Flowers for the Forsaken

Warning: None.

A/N: Got nothing...have a nice day!

Everything started, as all bad things do, with an apocalypse inducing rendition of Country Roads.

It was a performance night within the faculty office, one that Don always tried his best to drop out of. He would rather keep his hobbies and work separate which includes baseball and his affinity for music. But, it seems that this time, he had exhausted all of his excuses, leading one of his friends to physically drag him into one of the rooms where the event was being held.

"Is this really necessary?" he asked, his tone bordering on whining.

"Sorry Eppes" the man replied, looking far too smug for his own good. "It's mandatory. You can't keep skirting these team-building exercises."

Team building my ass he thought, You guys just want to make fun of people. He had far too much work on his desk. He couldn't waste it on these kinds of events. As much as he loved going out with people, there was a time and place for everything. Quantico was not one of those places.

"Right…"

"Chin up, at least you're not singing."

"Thank god for small mercies."

The man dragging him let go of his shirt collar, depositing him onto a nearby table like an unruly kitten. "Now, don't try and sneak out of this until at least the fourth song, you owe me that much Eppes." Don sighed at that, annoyed. He did owe the man, he just didn't think that this was the way he'd pay it back.

"Fine."

Satisfied that Don was not about to get up and bolt, his friend left him, probably to find other unfortunate souls to drag in. "Asshole" he muttered underneath his breath, settling into a more comfortable position. He had a feeling that it was going to be a long night.

Two songs and three minutes of temporary deafness later, he was ready to throw in the towel.

"Wow!" the announcer shouted, his expression clearly fake. "That was some performance!"

"I'll say" he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Now, for our next singer, he will be giving us a unique rendition of an old country classic."

"Oh no…" he could hear sirens blaring from a mile away.

"So, let me introduce Agent Troy Sullivan who would be singing Country Roads! Let's give him a round of applause!"

And before Don could even get up and run, the man had run up to the stage, grabbed the mic, and then proceeded to screech out the most tone-deaf version of Country Roads. His voice and tone were all over the place, his voice was supremely scratchy, and Don had a distinct feeling that if he were to try and open the gates of hell, the unholy screams of the tortured souls that leaked out would be less painful to listen to then this.

Judging by the winces from everyone's face, they were all thinking the same thing.

So, in the name of preservation, he decided to get up and sneak out, running away from the room like it was on fire.

And that is how he found himself on the roof of Quantico, absently strumming away at the guitar that has almost never left his side.

He sometimes does this, sneaking away to climb onto the roofs of Quantico to enjoy a quiet night alone like some sort of teenager. Sometimes he brought his notebook to write in, sometimes he brought books to read, and on rare occasions, he brought a guitar.

While it was somewhat risky to do considering the fact that he wasn't too keen on anyone finding out he likes to play music, he also couldn't really stop. Contrary to what his family might think, he's never really given up on music. Yeah, he hadn't played the piano in a long while, but that doesn't mean that he's completely abandoned it. He just…decided to continue in secret on another instrument just so he has something that he can call his, something that won't be monopolized by other people.

It sounds depressing in hindsight, but most of his hobbies are a secret because of this.

So there he was, alone, singing to nothing but the moon and stars in the sky. He smiled as he took in the area around them, the glittering sight of faraway lights in the city, looking like the stars had decided to descend to earth to decorate the world. His feet were dangling off the building, moving to the beat, taken by the music.

Plucking out the final few melodies in the song, he let out a sigh, thinking of which song to play next.

"Planning on doing an encore?"

Don flinched, violently, at the sudden voice behind him. "Holy-" he hissed, turning back. There, he was met with the piercing gaze of a man who was a few inches taller than him. The man had a grin on his face, a grin that felt like a cat who had just caught a canary. His black hair was neatly combed to the side, probably former military if his stance was anything to go by. He was admittedly handsome, in a unique sort of way. His calm and mysterious aura probably doing most of the talking and flirting for him.

Definitely not like me he thought, snorting slightly. Considering he had been called "pretty boy" on more than one occasion and his honed "boy-next-door" charm, he was the exact opposite of dangerous and mysterious.

"Who are you?" he asked, his eyes tracking the man as he went over and sat next to Don, carrying himself with cat-like grace.

The man looked over at him and held out his hand, "Ian Edgerton" he replied simply. In an instant, Don knew exactly who he was.

"Ah…the sniper instructor."

"You've heard of me?" Ian asked. But, judging by his tone, he definitely didn't sound surprised at all.

He let out a snort. "Who hasn't? Sniper God, tracker extraordinaire, a terror within the classroom and on the field, someone so skilled that he can pick his own cases."

"Looks like you did your homework."

Don shook his head. "Not really. I just listened through the grapevine."

"And you would know all about that wouldn't you, Don Eppes."

That got a surprise out of him. "Wait, how did you know who I was?"

"I guessed. Some of my students couldn't stop talking about the cute new tactical instructor with the sweetest smile" Ian said, looking at Don. "Judging from what I'm seeing, I can't say they're wrong."

Don instantly looked away, his face completely red. He hoped that the cover of darkness managed to hide how flustered he was. Why the hell am I blushing? Don was never the type to go sheepish on someone, no matter how flustered or flattered he was. He always opted to shoot out one or two lines before smiling, trying to dispel any awkwardness he might feel from praise. But somehow, Ian Edgerton managed to make him act like he was 15 all over again, tumbling over his feet as soon as he had a crush.

Get a grip Eppes, you're better than this.

"Was that a compliment? Didn't think you gave those out" he teased, nudging Ian with his elbow.

"Depends on if they deserve it or not" Ian shrugged, his answer simple.

"You're saying I do?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.

Ian shot him a wolf-like grin, "only if you play another tune. Didn't really expect you to be that good even if your song choices were…interesting…"

"Oh shut the fuck up" he growled, shoving Ian lightly, his face feeling like its on fire. To be caught doing something like this was genuinely embarrassing.

"I'm just saying, I don't think you're in the Backstreet Boys's demographic."

"Please stop talking" he grumbled, burying his face into his arms that were folded over the guitar. He felt Ian poke him in the cheek. Don didn't need to look to know that Ian had a wide shit eating grin on his face.

"Never knew that the infamous charmer could get flustered" Ian said, observing his red face. "It's a good look on you."

With every word, Ian managed to rip the rug from under his feet over and over again.

"You know, I can't put on a performance if I die from embarrassment," Don muttered.

"Considering the miracles I've heard you pull? I wouldn't be surprised if you could."

"You have a surprising amount of faith in the abilities of someone you barely knew" he commented, absently plucking the strings.

"Maybe I just have an eye for talent" Ian shrugged, eyeing his guitar. "So…are you gonna play again?"

"Depends, what recommendations do you have for me?"

"Nothing at the moment" Ian replied after a brief moment of silence. At Don's annoyed expression, he let out a small huff. "Music isn't really my thing, I just liked hearing you play. It definitely beats the demon summoning incantations that they were trying to do in the room earlier."

"Don't I know it…" Don muttered, remembering the horrible performance. He looked over at Ian who was staring at the scenery too, a calm expression on his face. If Don had to pinpoint what expression it was, it would be content. Considering their line of work, that kind of feeling doesn't happen often. Who am I to deny someone that? With that in mind, he thought of another song to play, sitting up straighter as he got ready. "Alright, just be thankful that I've already got a few songs in mind" he said, experimentally strumming the guitar as if he hadn't just finished playing it a few minutes ago. "And, no judging."

"My lips are sealed" Ian replied, miming the movement of zipping his mouth shut. "Although…if you play Backstreet Boys again…"

"Don't even finish that!"

"I'm just saying!"

"You're the audience, you don't get to pick!"

"Now that's just rude!"

"That's rich coming from you!"

As they both threw jab after jab at each other, Don could feel himself relax more. It was only after he gave Ian a small smile as he sang did he truly realize what was going on.

Oh no…he thought as he froze for just a second. I'm…I'm in love. As he looked to the side at Ian's peaceful expression, something in his heart squeezed.

Shit…this is dangerous…

It took a few more years for him to start coughing up his first batch of flowers.

A/N: Sorry Donnie...it's all going downhill from here...br /

Also, fun fact, I love to do terrible off-key renditions of Country roads just to annoy the shit out of my friends. So yes, the start of this chapter is just a fun little Easter egg.