Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin. : Criminal Minds is the property of CBS, the actors, producers, and writers of the show
Claimer: Damon is mine
AN: A special thanks to peppe1951 for beta'ing all my DAMON II & III chapters, and her and Colakirk's encouragement and input to help keep my story going.
WARINING: Corporal punishment is used in this chapter. If this bothers you, DO NOT READ. This is a fictional story, an offshoot of a fictional show.
DAMON III (10)
Damon didn't have to work on the anklet lock very long before the light switched from green to red and an irritating 'beep, beep, beep' alarm started emanating from it. Damon started frantically trying to open the tracker so he could get it off and run.
No such luck, Peter entered the room; he was talking on the phone, "No, I got him, he's right here. Going to switch them now, hold on." He sat down beside Damon, set the phone down and reached for Damon's leg. Damon was too scared to resist, he knew he was going to jail. Peter swiftly unlocked the compromised anklet, removed it and snapped a second one on in its place and observed the new anklet's light switch to green. He picked the phone back up.
"Anklet one has been removed, number two is now securely in place and activated." He listened for a minute, "Okay, thanks, I've got it now, 'bye." He put the phone in his pocket and turned to Damon.
"That was a one shot deal, Damon." He explained as he pointed to the anklet. "I was able to convince Hughes that with your abilities and your immaturity you wouldn't be able to resist testing the tracker one time. But now you know you cannot beat it so don't try it again; I won't be able to protect you next time. And just for your information, I do not have a key to the new anklet, so don't even think about trying to go through my stuff to find it."
Damon was on the verge of crying, "Y… you're not gonna send me to j… jail?"
"No, but there are consequences for your actions." Peter studied Damon's reaction.
Damon tried to pull his leg away, but Peter held on, "W… what do you mean?"
Peter tilted his head, "What do you think I mean, Damon? You know the rules and you tried to break them."
"But I didn't actually break any rules! I was never told I couldn't try to take it off…." He knew this was grasping at straws, but he also knew where Peter was heading, and he did not want to go there.
Peter just shook his head, "You want to dig yourself in any deeper?"
"But I don't want…"
"Well, I don't want to lose you again, not by running away or by being sent to juvenile detention. Guess whose wants supersedes the other?"
Damon tried to fight the tears, "Do you have to?"
"You have a choice, Damon." Damon groaned at that, he didn't like the choices Agent Burke usually gave him. "Either I can take care of it here tonight, or we can let Hughes handle it tomorrow. But I'm warning you, Hughes expects you to be disciplined."
No, Damon did not like his choices. "Can't we just tell him you did?"
Peter looked shocked, "After all I've tried to teach you about lying and now you want me to lie? No Damon."
Damon was still desperate to find an equitable solution, "Then maybe you don't have to do it so hard…"
Peter couldn't help but give a small laugh, "No Damon, you know it doesn't work that way." He studied him a couple seconds, "What's your choice Damon, now or at work tomorrow?"
Damon did not want to answer, silence gave him more time, forestalled the inevitable.
"Damon?"
He sighed, "Now."
With that, Peter removed Damon's leg from his lap and stood up, holding his hand out to help Damon to his feet and guided him over to the bed. He sat down and pulled the boy to him and paused with Damon still standing and facing him. Damon saw the paddle lying on the bed and started to pull back but Peter took his face in his hands, "Son, I love you and I want the best for you. You need to learn to live by the rules. You need to learn self-control. If I have to beat it into your hard head through your backside, I will do it to make sure you learn." He gently wiped the tears from Damon's face with his thumbs. "Are you ready?"
Damon could not believe he was allowing this, it was not his way, he should be fighting, running, something, but the alternative was Hughes and he closed his eyes and nodded in affirmation.
Peter gently pulled the child into position, holding him in place with his left hand. Damon wrapped his hands around the back of his head like he was ducking from an impending blast and held his face tight to the bed to muffle any noise or words he may utter. The blast did land on his derriere twelve times plus another two for words he did not quite get muffled.
When he was finished Peter tried to hold Damon close and Damon tried to push him away. "Th… that h… hurt!"
"Damon, when are you going to realize I'm not going to let you go?" He pulled the boy close and held him until his weeping subsided and then put him to bed again repeating those three words that Damon could not believe.
The call of the night had been silenced by the pain radiating from his backside and he fell asleep.
***WC***
The next morning, Damon refused to sit to eat breakfast. El, as usual, fussed over him, and insisted he had to eat. Peter assured El that he would probably be sitting at his desk, err table, all day so a compromise was made and they let him stand to eat.
When it was time to go, Damon shot Peter a dirty look before he carefully sat down in the passenger seat.
When they got to the office, Peter told Damon to wait while he went to talk to Hughes.
"But he'll be mad at me." Damon did not want to cross Hughes.
Peter gave Damon's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, "I'm going there right now. You'll be alright."
While Peter headed up to Hughes office Damon glanced around. It seemed like all the agents were looking at him, and then avoiding his eyes. Do they all know? Damn! The tracker! He wandered to the break area trying to avoid eye contact.
When Peter came out of Hughes office, he pointed at Damon and then at Hughes office. Report now.
Damon reluctantly headed up the stairs to report in. He took off his hat, knocked once and waited.
"Get in here."
Damon moved somewhat gingerly to his assigned spot. "Yes Sir?"
Hughes sat back in his chair, head resting on his fingers, "I understand you broke your rules of probation last night."
Damon swallowed hard at the way Hughes worded it… "I… I…"
"How many licks did Burke give you?"
"Four… fourteen…"
Hughes lifted his head off his hand and looked hard at Damon.
"F… fourteen Sir."
Hughes rested his head back on his hand.
"I understand two of those were for cussing. So isn't the true answer twelve?"
Damon dropped his head, "Y… yes Sir…"
"Look at me!"
Damon lifted his head back up.
"Burke is too easy on you. If it was up to me, I would have given you at least fifteen if not twenty licks." He glared at Damon and let that sink in. Damon shifted uncomfortably and unconsciously rubbed his hind end.
"But Burke is one of the best agents I have ever had and I am willing to deal with some of his idiosyncrasies." He watched Damon while he reflexively scratched his ear. "You know I don't even think you should be on probation. I think you should be locked up." He again hesitated as he observed the boy. Damon just stood there obediently.
"You have bad blood, boy. There is no fixing bad blood."
"I know Sir." Damon stated it simply, honestly, and from the heart.
For the first time they truly looked at each other. Damon was always made to look at Hughes, but this was the first time they looked into each other's eyes to the truth in them.
Damon finally understood why Hughes did not like him, and would never like him. He knew what Damon knew; he had bad blood, unfixable, unchangeable, a basic truth. Damon understood why he could never do anything right in Hughes eyes and he understood that he did not have to cover the truth in his reports. There was no way he could look worse, no matter what he wrote. He accepted this as a fact of life. Hughes was the only one who knew him for what he truly was, and he accepted that.
Hughes was not sure what he saw in the boy's eyes. It was not fear, not defiance, but a steady solid look of… acceptance? Understanding?
"Go write your report, boy." He did not sound harsh, but neither did he sound gentle. It was just a statement, no more and no less.
Damon did not have the urge to run as he calmly turned and left the office.
***WC***
While Damon was in Hughes office, Neal went to Peter's office. He did not knock nor did he wait for permission to enter; he invited himself in and went and sat down. "So, Damon tried to unlock his tracker last night?"
Peter sat back, "Yes, and he failed. Are you disappointed? Did you wish he would succeed and come and release you?" Peter was still a little on edge and did not have a problem taking it out on Neal.
Neal brushed a piece of invisible lint off his pant leg, "Of course not. What makes you think that?" But it would have been pretty cool.
Peter rubbed his temples, "I'm sorry Neal, I don't mean to take it out on you. You warned me of what he was going to go through and I appreciate your honesty. How are you doing? Second thoughts?"
Neal pasted on his best 'I totally agree' smile, "Of course not, Peter. Why would I?"
But what Neal didn't understand is that the more Peter knew about Damon, the more he understood Neal. "No reason. Just asking."
***WC***
Damon returned to his table ready to write. He had trouble concentrating because he had trouble getting comfortable. He knew he had to open his mind and overcome the pain to be able to write what he had to. He searched his mind; his memory files for something to overcome the discomfort. Why he chose what he did, he did not know, but as he started repeating the Bene Gesserit's 'Litany Against Fear' from Frank Herbert's book 'Dune' in his head, he started dropping into the mindset that could write the proper report:
'I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.'
He started writing….
***WC***
He did not notice that most of the office emptied out to go to the field for some investigation. He did not notice that only Jones was left behind to 'babysit' until he shook Damon's shoulder and told him it was time for lunch. He looked up, somewhat dazed, "Let me finish this part and then I'll eat."
Jones smiled at him, "Okay, but don't forget or it will be my ass."
Damon gave a half smile back; Jones was alright, "No problem." He went back to his report.
Before the end of the lunch break, agents were wandering back and Jones was getting updates on the status of the current case and Damon's lunch was forgotten.
Once Damon finished, he looked back over his report and saw several things he had missed. He wrote the inserts in the margin with arrows pointing to proper position and clarified the report. When he was content with a complete report, he pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and started writing from scratch. He did not have the luxury of a computer or even a word processor to mechanically insert the changes, once he knew what he wanted; he had to rewrite the whole thing neatly, just like Mrs. Burke had taught him.
He wrote about reading the file in a pile on Agent Burke's desk. How he analyzed the former thieves mistakes, how he cased the place to improve on the robbery. He did not explain how Neal told him about the hidden camera; he added the camera to his observations when he cased the premises. He included a sketch of the former thieves' mistakes and his improvements, taking full credit on himself; Neal was denied the credit he deserved. He told how he happened on the place that night, how he went in, how he took the necklace, how he took it home and the next day rented a storage unit to store it.
He included everything in his report except Neal's input and the feel of the thrill.
***WC***
Peter was tired. He had spent all day chasing false leads on his current case. Most of his agents and his CI had already gone home. He would probably have stayed longer, but he had Damon to contend with. He grabbed his files to work on at home and went to collect his wayward son. "Time to go Damon."
Damon looked up; a little surprised it was time to go. "Just a sec…." He wrote the last couple lines. "I just have to deliver this, Sir, and then I will be ready."
"You can turn it in in the morning. Let's go."
Damon almost looked shocked, "No Sir. I have to do it now. I'll be right back." He took off up the steps with his report before Peter could stop him.
Damon went up to Hughes office and followed proper procedure.
"Get in here."
Damon complied and handed Hughes his report, "My report Sir." There was no fear in Damon. He knew this man had total obliterating power over him, and he accepted it because the cause for his power Damon knew was right. He accepted it.
Hughes took the report. "I'll read this over tonight. Go home and report back in the morning."
"Yes Sir." Damon did not move.
"Go."
Damon left to join Peter and go home.
***WC***
That evening Diana and her significant other Christie showed up before dinner. Peter called Damon up from the basement where he had disappeared as usual. "Damon go sit on the couch. Christie wants to check your vitals."
True to Damon nature he was suspicious, "Why?"
Peter was tired and getting tired of being questioned about every order he gave. "Because I said so."
Damon saw he was irritated and did not want to push his buttons. He knew he had no choice. He went and sat down on the couch.
Damon was on the brink of a downward spiral. He didn't know that a part of him always thought he could beat the tracker, but reality hit him last night and he was dropping. He had lost all control of his life with no way to get it back. He had no control of his sleep time, his awake time, what he ate, when he ate, not even his hair was his to call his own. Now the masters of his life wanted to go inside him with a check-up. Why? To tell him when and where he could breathe? He knew Christie was a doctor, and he knew they wanted her to check him, for what, he did not know. The thought actually flashed through his mind that he would rather be in Hughes office, someone who understood him for exactly who and what he was.
Christie did a quick examination of him. He did as he was told; he was losing the power to resist. Peter gave her what medical records he had and the end result was a sleeping prescription. Damon was getting serious circles under his eyes and since he crossed the milestone of trying to remove his anklet, it was time to make him start sleeping at night.
Of course when it was time to take the pill, Damon tried to hold on to one last right of self and refused. End result, to avoid a spanking, Peter placed the pill on Damon's tongue and he had to swallow water, take another drink, swish it in his mouth, swallow again, and then Peter checked his mouth for insurance. Damon lost all control of self. Of course, if he ever went to jail, it would be the same thing, but with no one around you who cared. He did not understand that little detail.
***WC***
The sleeping pill did not still the song of the night, but as Damon looked out the window, he knew he was groggy, his head was not clear; you cannot answer the call with a muddy mind… The dark siren expected perfection and he could not give it, he went back to bed and shortly, to sleep, his mistress denied.
***WC***
##### If you want a happy ending it depends on where you stop the story. 'Till the next chapter #####