Title: Assaulted! Series – Part twenty-nine
Author: jadvisioness/lilacs_roses
Type: Numb3rs
Characters: Colby Granger, Don Eppes, Ian Edgerton, Tim King, etc.
Pairings: Surprise pairing/s
Beta this section: Munchkinofdoom; Laura_Trekkie; Chrissy6299
Genre: AU; crime-drama; hurt/comfort; episode related; romance/ust
Rating: NC17
Warnings: non-con/sexual assault/rape; slash
Spoilers: Mole, Janus List, Trust Metric, whole 'spy' storyline
Summary: Colby's raped in the seventh floor men's room of the FBI. How does the team take it and, more importantly, what happens - to the perpetrator, to the victim and to those close to him?
Feedback: Again, please keep the reviews/comments coming because they really help me stay motivated :) Thanks. This thing is getting so complex, I feel like I'm floundering!
AN: This chapter is filled with different POVs; hope they are relatively easy to keep up with.
Thank you all so much for the reviews and the support – especially those still reading!
Ian walked back down the stairs to the living room, seeing Alan sitting in his recliner as he passed by him to reach the couch. Eppes Senior had his eyes closed but Ian knew he wasn't asleep from the way the man was breathing and the tension in his body, and Ian sighed inwardly.
Once he'd set Charlie on his feet in his room, Ian had stood there with his arms crossed over his chest and stared pointedly at the man who tried to continue the previous discussion, arms gesturing and going from one idea to the next, none of which had made any sense to Ian because Charlie hadn't been able to continue one sentence before changing directions and starting another – a clear indication of sleep deprivation.
Under the sniper's unremitting glare and constant silence, the professor had finally given up all pretense of not being on the verge of collapsing and had gotten undressed and into bed.
Ian had snorted while shaking his head when he'd seen that Charlie had fallen asleep before his head had even made contact with the pillow.
He'd then stationed one agent in the upstairs hallway while having the other two patrolling the perimeter of the house, one taking the back and right side with the other taking the front and left side of the Craftsman.
Boots off and lying down on the couch, Ian made sure his phone was on vibrate and finally focused on relaxing. He needed sleep but his body had been going for so long that he knew it would take awhile for it to understand that it could rest now – unlike Charlie, he had never been able to just crash – and he sighed inwardly once more.
Ian was utterly exhausted. While he'd pushed himself often in a variety of hunts and other assignments, this one had a… this one… it was personal. And that frustrated, upset and otherwise screwed things up in ways the sniper didn't want to admit or think about.
Ian believed in the work he did; he knew that it was something that was needed and that he was well suited for – hell, he was pretty much made for it. When he was given an assignment, he pursued it with a focused intensity that bordered on… Ian smirked inwardly, his exhausted mind going off in another direction… Someone once told him that he was the bastard son of Yoda and Clint Eastwood (or Dirty Harry, he was too tired to remember which), but he had often thought of himself more along the lines of a mix of The Terminator, completely focused on its mission, and some old Wild West character, following a code of his own.
That attitude had seen him through a lot of jobs throughout the years, with the majority of cases being nothing that really pierced the armor that he had built around himself – that was needed in order to keep a certain detachment in place. Ian had learned very early in life that he couldn't afford to internalize things or they would damage him past an ability to heal; that knowledge about himself had served him well in the Army and beyond, especially with his career as a sniper.
That said, there were a few cases that got to him, that he got so involved in that he pushed himself outside the 'safe' limits he'd established long ago. While he'd come very close to crossing that proverbial line when Hoyle had shot Megan and he'd gone toe-to-toe with Don, Ian knew that none of them compared to what was going on now.
Ian's mind was all over the place and he fought to bring his focus back to concentrating on his breathing and making himself relax. It took a long while to do it and even longer to finally fall into a restless sleep.
Despite having turned in early, Ian hadn't gotten as much sleep as he should have. His slumber was interrupted by bits and pieces of real life, memories and anxieties that mixed together to form a hodgepodge of disturbing dreams. The one that finally woke him up all the way, and made him decide to get up, was a nightmare; one that had him finding Don but a Don that was so broken that there was no trace of the man they all knew.
Ian jerked awake to find the Craftsman quiet and false dawn beginning to lighten the sky beyond the living room windows. The first thing he needed to do, despite his need for coffee, was to check on Charlie and then check in with the other three agents, who would be rotated out in a couple of hours.
Charlie looked to be in almost the same position that Ian had left him in last night. The sniper focused on him, noted his rhythmic breathing and sighed silently; at least one of them looked like they were getting the sleep they needed.
He quickly used the bathroom and then headed back downstairs to the kitchen to make coffee. Some time yesterday, someone had had the foresight to set out a large 50-some cup coffee urn and it was still there, with all its supplies right next to it. Ian set it up and, while it brewed, he started the regular coffee pot that was a foot further down the counter. When the small one had enough for a cup in the carafe, Ian pulled it from the heating element and poured himself a cup and then replaced it.
Moving to the island, he took a seat on one of the stools and blew into the mug, trying to cool the dark liquid enough to take a drink – needing the caffeine to kick in as quickly as possible.
Fifteen minutes went by and Ian stood up, his mug empty now, and pulled another three cups down from the cabinet. After finding a serving tray, he put the filled mugs on it and then took all of it out to the other agents on duty. They'd have to take it black because Ian didn't bother with finding the sugar bowl or something to hold the milk.
Coming back to the kitchen, he found Alan preparing his own cup of coffee.
"Morning." Ian didn't know if he should address the senior Eppes by his first name considering the situation.
Alan nodded his head towards Ian, not giving the sniper help with his unvoiced thought.
Refilling his own mug, Ian then moved back to his seat at the island and Alan moved to the refrigerator, staring at its contents for a few moments before moving to gaze into a few of the cupboards. Obviously coming to some type of decision, he then moved back to the fridge and pulled out a few things before going back to one of the other cupboards.
Soon, pancakes, eggs and fried potatoes were coming together on the stove and all were done without a word from the elder man.
Ian continued to sit at the island because he didn't feel like drawing attention to himself by either offering help to Alan or by going back to the living room. Belatedly pulling his phone from its place on his belt, he checked for messages, debating on calling the office when he saw there were none.
Just about the time he decided to get up and go into the living room to make the call, Alan turned to him with a plate of the breakfast fixings.
"Agent Edgerton."
Ian sighed inwardly, "Thank you, Mr. Eppes," he replied as he took the plate from the older man.
At least he had his answer now.
Alan had had a restless night, his mind filled with everything that had happened over the course of the day, and he was struggling to come to terms with everything, not the least of which was Agent Ian Edgerton.
The eldest Eppes was, at heart, a pacifist. He'd done a lot of protesting against the Vietnam War and a variety of other things in his youth; but he was also an intelligent, articulate and understanding person. Alan understood the need for law enforcement and government – the need for order to minimize the chaos that comes with a civilized society. And having a genius for a younger son with an older brother who had, either consciously or unconsciously, sacrificed or otherwise given up a lot in his youth to accommodate him, Alan understood far more about human nature then he probably would have if things had gone differently.
Alan had, by his very existence, experienced a lot in life. Having Don, and now Charlie, involved with the FBI, he had also heard and learned a great deal more, especially when combined with the observations of those in Don's team as well as Amita and Larry – most of which he could have done without understanding.
Something he'd relearned over and over again was that there was always two sides to every coin; that everything wasn't black or white. And it seemed that Agent Edgerton was the living embodiment of that.
The man was apparently some type of celebrity within the ranks of the FBI – if Colby's reverent remarks were anything to go by – as well as in other circles and was highly regarded. But beyond that respect and admiration, there was an undertone of something…. It had been present during David's and Edgerton's confrontation yesterday but Alan had been so shaken with everything that had happened, he hadn't seen it clearly.
Alan had been able to identify it this morning though and it was one more thing to add to his growing uneasiness around the man.
Fear.
It wasn't the type of fear that he'd experienced when faced with armed police during a protest; it wasn't the kind he'd felt when one of his boys had been in trouble or danger when they were little or the kind that he lived with on a daily basis because of Don's job. It wasn't the kind he'd felt while listening to his eldest son's and King's conversation either.
No, this fear was the kind that seemed to speak to something… primal in the human brain. The kind that came to the fore when you couldn't breathe – when you'd swallowed the wrong way or you got into trouble in the water and you thought you were going to drown and you couldn't get your breath back.
It was… instinctual.
Alan sighed inwardly, trying to pin the elusive concept down. He supposed it was akin to the kind of fear that inspired the fight or flight response to go on alert.
At any rate, Alan now found himself very leery of the man; unable to relax around him. Oh, there was no doubt that the stress of having Don kidnapped, in the clutches of that serial assaulter, was quite enough to keep him from getting much rest, but having Edgerton around simply made it impossible.
Alan still hadn't figured out how to reconcile everything about Agent Edgerton as he plated up breakfast for the man.
Charlie came to awareness gradually, taking him several minutes to realize that he was awake and for his mind to actually kick into gear. Turning his head to the side, something that seemed inordinately difficult, he checked the time on his bedside clock and groaned.
It was far too early for him to be awake; although he remembered turning in quite early, for him, and under protest. Even so, why was he still so tired? Why did he feel like he'd been drugged? His thoughts were like molasses and his body was just as slow when he tried to move from the bed.
After a few minutes, Charlie was finally up and, his foggy mind slowly beginning to get with the program, decided that he should skip the bathroom and head directly for the coffee pot because he was in serious need of caffeine.
~~n3~~
While Alan had told his son, and Agent Edgerton, that he wasn't concerned with Don being gay or bi-sexual and just wanted Don to be happy, Alan didn't know what to think about what was going on between his son and Edgerton. And the whole matter with them both appearing to be interested in Colby, at the same time, was just too much for him to get his mind around.
While he could see what might attract his son to Colby… well, he liked Colby… Edgerton was… he was just too… he was… he was predatory… a wolf in sheep's clothing.
And now that Alan had seen the wolf, he was concerned what Don was getting himself into.
The man was danger incarnate and he was someone both his sons worked with, liked and respected. Alan was frightened of whatever repercussions would happen if Edgerton ever crossed a line or something with his sons.
~~n3~~
Charlie walked down the stairs quietly, after having waved sleepily to the agent in the hallway, and walked across the living room, noting that it was empty. Hearing voices in the kitchen, he was just about to open the door when he blinked, stopping short.
~~n3~~
"My son, both my sons, may trust you enormously, Agent Edgerton, but I don't." Alan took a breath, looking at the man who stared back at him, his face blank of expression. "Obviously Don has got to know your reputation, just as well as everyone else, but… you are a dangerous man, Edgerton; I knew that the first time I met you. It's a part of who you are that I've never been completely comfortable with, to tell you the truth, but it wasn't until yesterday that I saw how dangerous."
"I have accepted the fact that Don might never settle into a committed relationship. But there is that possibility he will and… I just don't want that possibility to be with you." Alan shook his head, his body radiating confusion about the situation, concern for his son and anxiety over the other man's presence. "To be completely honest, Ian, I am scared to death of the repercussions that would happen to him – to both of my sons – if you ever…." Alan swallowed, unable to finish his thought.
Looking the other man straight in the eyes, Alan frowned. "How can my son be attracted to such a dangerous person?" Sighing, Alan raised a hand to his face and rubbed it before looking back to Ian.
"I mean, I don't understand how a man can be attracted to another man to begin with, obviously, but… I would much prefer Don to be in a relationship with Colby over you, Agent Edgerton."
~~n3~~
Charlie stood outside the kitchen doorway, completely blindsided by what his father was saying to Ian. Charlie had known that his father was upset yesterday but he hadn't imagined that his dad would hold such an extreme point of view regarding the agent – especially now that Alan knew that Don… well… that seemed to be a large part of the problem – Don's attraction to Ian.
Not being able to let the rant continue, he burst into the kitchen, "Dad!"
Alan's eyes widened, "Charlie… what are you doing up so early?"
Ian looked to the youngest Eppes, his professional mask fully in place, and responded as if it were any other time they'd conversed. "Morning, Professor."
The sniper may have appeared as unruffled as ever but Charlie, even though he was usually oblivious to such things, had been around Ian long enough to understand that Ian wore a lot of masks and this was the one he used when he was stressed.
Charlie had no idea what to say, not only to his father, but to Ian as well. Before his muddled mind could come up with anything though, Alan was already speaking.
"Your mother and I never wanted this life for Don, Charlie – or you, for that matter. And now," Alan shook his head slightly before continuing, "look where it's gotten us: Don's been kidnapped by a murder/rapist; you're running yourself into exhaustion trying to help find him… and your brother's attracted to a man who hunts down other men."
Charlie barely registered a muscle jumping in Ian's cheek before his dad continued.
"Where did we go wrong?"
It was that agonizingly quiet yet emotional question that kicked Charlie's brain into gear.
"Dad, no, you and Mom didn't go wrong. Don and I… we just… we just grew into people who wanted to help others in the best ways we could."
"No. No, we, your mother and I, we made Don your protector when you were young. We told him, over and over and over, to take care of you – to make sure that you ate your lunch when you were at school and not to spend all your time in the math labs; to keep the bullies away, to keep you safe from them; to teach you how to be… to be a normal boy – get you involved in things that kids your age liked to do….
"We saddled your brother with you, we created this need that Don has to protect, to be responsible for… someone; maybe even everyone. And, in your brother's way, he couldn't do things half-way. He went into law enforcement – but he couldn't just do it at the city or county level."
Alan was banging the pots and pans used from breakfast around now. "Nnnooo, Don had to go for the federal government kind; he had to join the Federal Bureau of Investigation and…."
The noise stopped and Alan turned back to a stunned Charlie and a silent statue of Agent Edgerton.
"I just don't know how to feel about all of this. You're a dangerous man Agent Edgerton. And…" Alan swallowed, stumbling over the words. "And if… if we get Don back…." He shook his head, momentarily closing eyes that were bright with tears before taking a deep breath and continuing. "I don't know if I can handle having you involved with my sons, Agent Edgerton."
Without prompting, Alan left the kitchen.
