Title: Hostage
Author: Jen – privateradios (Livejournal and Fanfiction), Tuesdaymorning (talkCSI)
Disclaimer: Not mine
Pairing: None as right now.
Rating: FRT
Summary: Neither dead nor alive, the hostage is suspended by an incalculable outcome. It is not his destiny that waits for him, nor his own death, but anonymous chance, which can only seem to him something absolutely arbitrary. He is in a state of radical emergency, of virtual extermination.
A/N: Came to me while driving. I blame my radio. And this will be one of those multi-chapter stories because I have a lot for this.
It's dark, cold and his chest hurt. His lips are dry, his throat itchy and he isn't sure if he's barely alive. His head aches, dry blood seeps are the corners of his lips and he wonders where the hell he is because he can't remember anything that happened in the last twenty-four hours.
All he knows is that he's here, in this area and knows nothing more than that. In the distant he hears the constant sound of water dripping and it echoes against the stone cold walls, sending him into insanity.
He coughs and bends over, his arms tied behind his back (he guesses its duct tape because it's thick and it itches like crazy), as he closes his eyes, breathing hard. He's not sure what is going on and he wants to yell, wants to panic and scream and demand who's to blame for this but before he can get answers, he needs to put together questions and reasonable thinking.
He decides to retrace his movements the following day, trying to recall the events and he starts with the fact of waking up in his apartment, sunlight streaking through his blinds, reminding him that another day awaits. He gets dressed, orders a coffee and makes his way towards work, weaving in and out of the many crowds that New York City offers.
Taking a sip of the coffee, his eyes meet another, a pair that belongs to a close friend and co-worker, Danny Messer.
"Hey Don." Danny greets as he makes his way over to Flack, hands in pockets as the chilled morning air bites at their flesh. His eyes land on the coffee and a smirk plays at his lips as they walk. "Didn't want to get me one huh?"
Flack laughs as he hands his coffee over to the other man and falls in step besides him, glad that this morning actually seemed to be going better than planned. "Go ahead, have a sip. I'm not sick yet."
Danny takes the coffee from his hands. "Thanks." And tilts his head back to take a long sip of Flack's coffee before handing it back over to him. All right, maybe Flack's coffee isn't the kind that Danny drinks but Flack doesn't mind giving him a sip. Once Danny licks the taste of Flack's coffee off his lips, he casts him a curious look before smiling. "Ready for another day?"
Flack glances over at Danny and his smile matches the other man's. "When have I never?"
And from there, he and Danny separate their ways before Flack's in his own area and at his own desk working on his own things again and he can't help but wonder if maybe he'll be pulled on an interesting case which requires him to get out as possible because the last place he wants to be is here in this office right now.
Then he receives a call and he tries to remember, tries to remember what name flashed across his caller ID because right when he saw that name, he darted from his desk and moved outside.
The water dropping in the distance brings him back to the state that he's in right now and he can feel hot tears forming behind his eyes, threatening to show his weakness. He needs to know how he got here and he needs to know why he's here because he wants out.
Something happened yesterday and for the life of him, Detective Don Flack Jr. can not put the pieces together. His head aches, his body's sore, the blood on the side of his face itches and Flack curls up onto the cold floor as he closes his eyes and tries to breathe in even steady breaths, anything to keep himself alive. And as he tries, he can't help but wonder what is going on with everyone else and if they maybe have the answers he's looking for because as of right this second, he is a hostage in a dangerous position.
