A/N: Okay, so I'm not completely happy with this chapter (hence the long wait), but I figured that I should just publish it and get it over with. I hope it's okay. And thanks everyone for the reviews! I really appreciate the feedback.

Disclaimer: Numb3rs is not mine.

The moon gives light and shines by night
I scarcely feel the glow
We learn to live and then we forgive
O'er the road we're bound to go
More frail than the flowers, these precious hours
That keep us so tightly bound
You come to my eyes like a vision from the skies
And I'll be with you when the deal goes down

-"When the Deal Goes Down," Bob Dylan

Chapter 5—Company

To Don the wait felt like an eternity. At first he had tried to fight. As soon as Don had reined in his despair, he'd lashed out at Hett with his good leg. He'd caught the man by surprise, taken his legs right out from under him. But Don hadn't planned particularly well—he was a sitting duck, really. Chained to the wall, with no escape. When Hett had regained his feet he'd looked at Don for a moment. He'd reached out and held Don's head steady, and for a moment Don had thought that Hett was going to knock him unconscious like he had in the house. Then he'd punched Don. Don felt his nose crack.

As he spat blood, Don felt the prick of the needle in his skin.

"You can still back out, you know," Megan told Robin, glancing back at her, concerned. They were in Megan's car, and she was driving, with Colby next to her, trying not to shift his leg too much. Colby was pale and sweating, and Megan was sure that his pain meds had to be wearing off by now, although he'd refused to take more. They dulled the senses. In the backseat were David and Robin.

Robin shook her head. "You know I can't. He could be telling the truth." Megan nodded. They'd considered leaving Robin behind, but there were too many ways to find out what she looked like. Don could have had a picture of her on him, or else on his phone. If Hett knew Robin's full name—because what Don had told him was a wildcard as well—he could have simply looked up her picture on the internet.

Megan slowed down a little, and then halted. "We're here," she told them. They all took a deep breath. Megan drove into the warehouse. Standing by a door in the wall was Hett. The door was open, Megan noted, and Hett was pointing a gun into the room beyond it. He was pointing it at Don, she reasoned. In case they tried anything.

Megan and the others stepped slowly out of the car. Hett checked them for weapons one by one, emptying their pockets. He made them remove the Kevlar vests they'd been wearing—just because he could, Megan was sure. Kevlar didn't exactly protect from close range head shots. When Hett gestured for them to step into the room, Megan entered last, followed only by Hett. She heard the door click shut behind them.

They'd decided on no backup. Having another team out there waiting was just too unreliable. They might decide to move at the wrong time, too soon or too late. With Don at Hett's mercy, coming in guns blazing hadn't been an option either. They had to play the hand they'd been dealt. They were alone with Don and Hett.

Don was chained to the wall, facing it. His arms were stretched above him, bare past the shoulders, where his shirt sleeves ended. On his arms Robin could see burns, many of them. There was blood dried on one arm as well, as though it had dripped downwards and dried before he had been chained. There was also blood on the floor. Don had his forehead rested against the wall, talking to himself.

"Ms. Brooks," mumbled Don, like he did when he flirted with her, and Robin heard the smile in his voice. She took a step forward, but David reached out and grabbed her arm, looking into her eyes and shaking his head.

"I wouldn't do that," confirmed Don's captor—their captor. Robin looked at him, glaring, eyes filled with fear and anger. Hett's gun was trained on Don. She stayed still, turning back to Don.

"Robin, I missed you," he told the wall, his voice suddenly raw with honesty. "I know you were working, and so was I. The job's everything, right? But it hurt. It hurt a lot. I… I think it still hurts, Robin. But… this is different." Don cocked his head slightly. "I suppose," he said dubiously. Then: "Robin?" He was almost begging this time. Behind him, his team's eyes were wide with horror. "You won't leave? It's worse when you're not here."

Robin turned furiously on Hett. "What did you do to him?" she hissed, her eyes glaring, holding back her tears through anger. She had never seen Don like this. His voice was his own, but his words were not.

"Drugged." The word was Colby's. Robin turned to him. "I think I recognize the… effects," he said in explanation. Megan stiffened and David glanced at Colby with a grimace. Hett looked remotely curious. Robin looked only at Don. Then Hett spoke.

"I think it's probably time for Eppes to come back down to earth, as they say. Don't you?" he asked calmly. "Why don't you come in? Stand against the wall, there," he told them, gesturing. Then he turned to Colby. "I'd have you do it, seeing as you know the drill, but I must say, you don't look so great," he said, noting Colby's pale complexion and his crutches. "You"—he gestured to Robin—"Robin Brooks, I presume?" He didn't wait for a response. Instead, he motioned to the handcuffs on the table. "Cuff them." Robin went over to the table, while the FBI agents moved towards the wall, never taking their eyes off of Hett. Robin moved over to them. Her heart was hammering, and her hands were shaking slightly. She was scared and furious, and she wanted nothing more than to run, or to hit Hett, scraping her nails down his face.

Instead, she cuffed Megan first, searching the other woman's eyes briefly before moving to pull her hands behind her back. She saw only understanding and pain. Then she cuffed the men. Colby sank to the floor as soon as he could no longer use his hands to hold the crutches steady. Their clatter made Don twitch, although he had yet to look at them. When Robin had cuffed herself as well and all of them were sitting against the wall—a safe distance apart, of course—Hett moved over towards Don.

Reaching up towards Don's left cuff, Hett unlocked it, allowing Don to swing away from the wall. Don't eyes had been partially closed, but now they shot open with the complete and utter clarity of initial pain. Hett swung Don around so that his back was towards the wall and he could see his team, his people—his girlfriend. Don looked over at them.

"Robin?" he asked, only this time he was actually looking at her, registering her presence. Then his head fell forward as his body tried to curl up, to protect itself. Hett had kicked his ribs, and everyone in the room had heard the sickening crack.

Don swung slightly in place, dangling from just his one wrist. He was gasping for air, trying to regain control of his body. Then another blow came, and another, these to his kidneys. Don winced away from them, gasping, raising his freed arm to try to fend them off, only to hear another sickening snap. He cried out in pain, instinctively cowering towards the wall, using it to protect as much of his body as possible. Eventually, the blows stopped.

Don looked up, his eyes following his torturer. Like a wounded animal, he could watch nothing but the thing that he knew would inflict more pain. Hett walked over to the table—Don had never seen it before this, although the rest of the room was much as he'd have imagined, with no other furniture but a chair for Hett to sit in—and picked up what appeared to be a metal pipe. As Hett turned back towards Don, Don shook his head. It was a pathetic gesture, weak, Don knew, but he hadn't been able to hold it back. Hett looked at him and then smiled. The smile was cruel.

Hett had a few good whacks at Don with the crowbar—he could see now that it was a crowbar now, not a pipe. Don wanted nothing more than to close his eyes, to surrender to the oblivion that he could feel hovering on the edge of his mind. But he couldn't. Don's eyes were glued to the crowbar, watching it come down on his ribs, his stomach, his broken arm. And then his ankle. It was his right ankle, and the bones didn't so much as break as crumble. Don felt them and he finally screwed his eyes shut, but he could no longer find the oblivion that had been waiting right there, waiting for him to reach out for it. The abrupt new pain had driven it away.

"Ah, damn!" Don cried out, eyes screwed shut, gasping. Every part of him hurt. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to feel the fingers on either hand. His shoulders and his bones were still very much there, though. He let his head limp forward, vaguely heard Hett's footsteps retreating, and then became aware again of the other presences in the room. He lifted his head slowly. They had come for him. Only to see him like this. The eyes he sought first were Robin's. She was there, unharmed, her mouth open slightly, the pain on her face evident. Tears were running silently down her cheeks as she looked at him. He tried to smile weakly at her, but he was pretty sure it came out more as a grimace. He felt some of the dried blood on his face cracking.

Next was Megan. He wanted to kill her, really he did, for bringing them here. Her job was to protect the team. By bringing them here, by surrendering to Hett, she'd only sealed all of their fates. A voice in the back of his head admitted that he didn't want them to see him like this. He didn't want anyone to see him like this. When his eyes met Megan's, she looked back at him, scared and defiant.

He looked at David next, and saw pain and horror in the man's eyes. David had been just as unprepared for this as the rest of them, and was taking it hard. Don's protective instincts stirred. How could he give up now, with everyone here depending on him? When he looked into Colby's eyes next, Don found only heartbroken understanding.

Don knew what they had all seen in his eyes. He felt it in himself, radiating through his very bones and into his surroundings until he breathed it back in with the air. He felt despair. A painful, determined despair, because he knew that they would not all make it out of this alive. And if one of them had to die today, he knew that he would be the one to do it.

I hope it was okay-I'm sorry, I know it wasn't great, but this chapter just wasn't really working for me. Please no one bash me for it, because I'm perfectly aware that it wasn't all that good. I appreciate it :) I think I like the next chapter better, though.