His naked torso crinkled his muscles as he sat up, balancing on one arm, and eye roaming, giving Ellis a once over. His sight was glued longer than a once over should, but they both didn't care.

The young body next to him still moved to the irregular balance of breaths, driblets of sweat sparkled as they appeared and disappeared on every part of him. His bones were much more prominent than the last time Nick had seen him, during the outbreak. His muscles still held on to his body tightly, yet his bones were easier to find. Over the bones were the horrid purpled blue bruises, a screaming red of cuts also littering the youthful body.

The bruises on his neck held a much more different meaning, they were sucked into making under positive circumstances.

The incisions were scattered randomly, but all in the same direction. They declined in a downward diagonal, someone right handed raising the knife up to their left shoulder and slashing it toward their right hip. He'll cut off Spencer's hand later.

On impulse Nick pushed off his arm and kissed one of his ribs, he made it curt, while still letting it last long enough to show affection. Against the salted and twisted skin he whispered apologetically.

"I have to go to work." He was indecisive of what he was so guilty for, lying or leaving.

He tilted his head upward, where he could see a forgiving and trusting beam on El's face. His lips were lopsided and bitten, but they smiled down at him with a sincerity that made every flaw unknown to his eye.

"Like Sherlock Holmes." Ellis spoke, no wince, no cringe. Nevertheless he still held his mouth at a small cautious part.

Nick's thumb pressed onto his cheek and glided to the side of his face, his eyes on the tarnished half. He can't hold his other cheek with a comforting hand, but he can at least give it the warmth he offers without the burden of causing the boy pain.

"You're just like a fucking five year old," He climbed off the bed and threw back a smirk as he picked up his clothes, "but yeah, I guess I'm like Sherlock Holmes."

Ellis crawled to his previous position at the head of the bed, slipping underneath the covers and snuggling into his pillow. He was too lazy to find his boxers in the midst of the jumble of clothes strewn all about the floor. Plus those pills helping his pain were making him drowsy. Or it might have been the after glow of probably the most fantastic sex he had ever had.

His eyelashes flickered in Nick's direction; he didn't want to miss any minute of gracefulness that was Nick.

He tried hard to keep them open, but the weight of the past events and his body's healing process was making a dull fatigue drone over his head. When Nick pulled his pants up, the southerner's eyes had closed and his mind followed.

"I think I'm going to get some sushi for dinner," He rifled through his blazers, choosing to add one to his outfit, "you like raw fish?"

He pulled his suit together in front of the standing mirror across the room. When he didn't hear the bubbly southern drawl he glanced into another perspective of the mirror. He saw the sleeping reflection of his lover and couldn't help the little gentle lift of his own lips.

Nick used a light step to walk to the bed, where he placed a simple, lasting kiss on the very tip of his scar, above his brow. He used the same step and delicacy to leave his bedroom, a wide, delighted smile decorating his face.

He ambled into his office with the same upturned pair of lips that he had left his bedroom with. Talen had been leaning up against a wall playing on his phone, his patience was beyond Nick's comprehension sometimes.

"Hey, anything for me today?" He slopped into his seat with his beam becoming bigger.

Talen hid his scrutinizing eyes. "Well yeah, there is one thing. Some underground guys from Cape Cod are having some negotiating troubles with us. They want you to go and give their cut in hand."

Nick finally let his happy visage wipe away into his natural imprinted scowl. Work tended to have that effect on him.

"Why can't I just send it to them?" His emphasis on the word 'send' went unnoticed.

Talen couldn't help the small inference about the fact that his boss wouldn't want to be too far away where as only last week he would have been more than willing.

Adding that to the list, he pressed on.

"They said they don't trust you not to actually deliver the money and that they want to meet you in case you run off. They said some horseshit about how they worked with someone from the Boston area years ago and their cut had never been delivered."

Talen's mind buzzed back to the night he had told Vitale of the Cape Cod chemists cheating their family into getting more money. Two of the head chemists had been shot down in their homes that night. He had never bathed in over one hundred thousand dollars before.

But he remembered how it felt so right, it was less than what he truly deserved, but it still felt right.

Nick looked at the door with knitted brows, he really didn't like leaving Ellis with out him here. If he needed something important then his cover is blown, or if there's an emergency here, the innocent boy could get hurt or put in prison. He looked back quickly at Talen, realizing he had been gawking at the door for a good minute.

"All right," He rolled his chair out and sauntered to the door, "I'll hit our money spot then drive down to the lab. I'll be back in a few hours." He would make it a fast trip, the faster he comes back the faster he'll be back withhim.

Talen, being the wholesomeassistant he is, walked Nick to the car and waved him out.

He turned back, looking at the tiny enclosure.

Something about this hick has Nick so flustered and unorganized, even distracted. The ingredients used to make a horrible Mob Boss. One that deserved a mutiny of some nature. Now the only thing left to finally mix the ingredients and light the spark was to find the proof.

He moved silently through the house, like a rat.

The dark eyes revitalized in pride when he pushed his ear to the gambler's bedroom door. He couldn't hear any motion or signs of life on the other side of the wood.

He took his time opening the door, lucratively he made no sound when he opened and closed it behind his back. In the light left on from the hanging light he could see the boy he had scarred.

There were a pair of staines clothes tousled on the floor, some of it overlapping the other. He could even pin point a deep red pair of briefs near what looks to be a crumpled pair of pants.

He didn't really believe that the kid would be thatcomfortable to be naked around his employer.

The thick blanket covered more than his chest, reaching almost to his chin. His head was turned, resting on the grotesque gash he himself had shaped. His feminine lips were open only a tad, but his whole face was unruffled. The golden waves brushed his eye lids, making barely noticeable twitches.

Talen moved closer, he could see something on the soft skin of his neck, barely peaking out from the blanket. Neither he nor the others touched his neck that night they had taken him. Having experience he was positive that the supple skin was untouched that night.

He was close enough to touch him, instead mildly he pulled the covers down, past his Adam's apple.

The pure cruelty of his smirk was undeniable...hickeys.

They looked fresh, deep purple marks with splotches of yellow skin. He snickered derisively.

Then with a sick sense of care he brushed the blonde waves out of his closed eyes, his grin extending when the boy's face altered into something akin to pain.

"N-No…

He left the room, still grinning through the shrill screams of unadulterated terror that poured out of the door.