The Professionals Circuit Archive - Screams	    Screams

 

by Grey

  
 "Where the bloody hell is Bodie?" Doyle threw his jacket over the back of
the chair and scanned his memory one more time for some clue about his
partner's location.

"What'd you say, mate?" Murphy walked up, cup of tea in hand, his lanky
form relaxed and obviously rested from the weekend. 

"I said where the bloody hell is my dumb crud of a partner. We've got a
meeting with Cowley and he didn't pick me up this morning, rotten sod." 

"Haven't seen him, have I. Ask me, he's still tucked up with a bird
somewhere having it off and thinking lovely thoughts while you cover his
lazy arse one more time." 

Doyle shook his head, his hand running back through his curls. His anger
faded into a nagging fear, the same tug of panic whenever his friend
failed to arrive on time. "Something's not right, Murphy. He's a selfish
bastard, right enough, but he usually calls to let me know where he is and
I haven't heard a single word all weekend. Hasn't been at his flat since
we left on Friday." 

"Then he's at the bird's place, right?" 

"Not likely. He rarely sleeps over unless he leaves out of town or lets me
know." 

"So what are you saying? You think he's in trouble?" 

"Don't know do I, but there's something wrong." 

Murphy poured himself a bit more tea and settled down on the couch. "You
worry too much, Ray. Bodie's just let his weekend stretch to the last
minute. Not the first time is it?" 

"No, but this is different. Can't explain it, mate. Just feels wrong." 

Before he could say anything else, Betty called back to summon him. A
sympathetic look graced Murphy's features. "Better you than me, mate.
Cowley finds out Bodie's missing in action, he's going to be a right
terror until he finds him. Wouldn't want to be your partner when he does,
eh?" 

Doyle walked down the hall and barely made it inside his boss's office
before he heard the Scottish voice ask, "Where's Bodie?" 

"Don't know, sir. Haven't seen him all weekend." 

Worried eyes magnified behind thick reading lenses gazed into his. "Then
I'm afraid we may have a problem, .45." 

Ice slicked his belly before he spoke, his voice too near shaking. "Sir?" 

"Krivas escaped on Thursday and damn fool warden never let us know until
this morning." 

"Bloody hell, sir." Swallowing hard, the air suddenly turned thick and
dusty. "You think he's got Bodie then?" 

Clearing his throat, putting the file on the desk, Cowley removed his
glasses. "Pull a unit together and find out. You know what to do, lad.
Find your partner." 

"Yes, sir." Ray Doyle headed out the door, his mind fevered with ideas,
his whole body launched into an adrenaline rush to find Bodie. He couldn't
lose him, not now, not ever. 

******

Rolling over to his side, the groan scraped his throat, the sharp scratch
of blood bringing on uncontrolled coughing. The damp soaking his clothes
didn't help the wheezing thickness overworking his lungs. Hands bound
behind his back, his shoulders ached worse with each spasm. After a few
minutes, his body relaxed and short tested the air with smaller breaths.
Opening his eyes, darkness inked the light and Bodie saw only shadows,
mere slants of grey against black. 

Ignoring the roll in his gut, he shifted against the cutting gravel and
braced his back against the wall to sit up. Dizzy, he closed his eyes
again and tried to gauge how much time he'd lost since the last beating.
From the steady dull cry of his bladder, he estimated a few hours, but
couldn't be certain. No clues leaked through the small, high window, no
voices or sounds hinted time or location. He pushed away the fingers of
fear tracing the outer edge of his thinking. Krivas wanted him dead, but
he needed him to suffer more, hungered to break him. Hell, the bloody
bastard lived to deliver a measured and delicious pain to just get himself
off. 

Bodie bit his lower lip at the Congo memories, pushed away the awful
echoes of surviving that last session with Krivas and Irene. The woman's
anguished screams shaved the inside of his skull into long, curved
slivers. 

His head rested back against the cool, sweaty stone as an involuntary
shudder caught him by surprise. Body heat drained away, the chill
increased, his veins restricting circulation to bound arms and legs.
Despite the throbbing pain in his gut and face, he just wanted to sleep,
to block out the misery soaking through to his very bones. God, everything
hurt. 

A click alerted him to sit up straight, his balance awkward, as he waited
for the door to open. The flash of a bare overhead bulb stabbed at his
eyes, his focus blurred watching the man in the doorway. 

"Hello, Bodie. Glad to see you're awake, luv." 

"Sod off, Barnett." 

"I'd like to, but he sent me down to make sure you're still breathing,
didn't he. You're his pet, sunshine. He's getting ready for you upstairs.
You know how he gets, all euphoric and intense like. Scares me sometimes
our Krivas." 

His face set, his emotions pushed down by solid merc training, he shook
his head in contempt. "Bloody errand boy, are you, mate?" 

"Yeah, but at least I'm not the one bleeding and bruised, am I, Bodie, old
son?" 

"Doesn't mean you won't be before this is over." 

"Don't count on it. I'm not his type, am I." 

Grinding his teeth, Bodie closed his eyes against the throbbing pain at
his cheekbones, sharp stabs radiating through his face up into his
temples. He couldn't rub away the pressure, just endure it, the words
roaring in his head. Breathing evenly took serious concentration, took his
focus away from the leer and taunt of the man talking. After a few moments
of silence, he stared back at Barnett, his eyes more clear but his jaw
still clenching. "Yeah, you'd scream at the first blow, wouldn't you,
mate. Not enough bloody challenge." 

"You know me too well, Bodie. Always did. You, on the other hand, are his
favorite flavor, aren't you? All tough and stubborn, just like some bloody
cinema hero. God, why don't you just give in and have it over?" Barnett
leaned against the doorway, ankles crossed as he lit a cigarette, his eyes
never leaving Bodie's. After taking a long drag, he shook his head.
"Seriously, mate, you make most of your own trouble. He'd lay off if you'd
just stop being such an arrogant butch bastard." 

"Sod off, Barnett. I know Krivas, don't I? Right nutter, is Krivas.
Nothing I do short of dying's going to end this little dance party. Might
as well stop talking and get it over with." 

"Eager to die, eh? Want to end up like that poor sod Tony?" 

"Eager to shut your fucking face, mate." 

"Right then." Dropping his cigarette on the ground, Barnett stomped it out
with a twist and stepped closer. Bodie jerked his head away, startled as
the hand pushed back his hair, blood-glued strands tugging at his skin.
"You want to be tough, sunshine? Fine with me." The voice suddenly
softened, the words almost a loving whisper. "But I could help if you let
me." 

His head fuzzy, Bodie swallowed several times to lubricate his tongue.
"How?" 

"Can't stop the beating, can I, but I could give you something to ease it
a bit. Just a taste. Krivas wouldn't have to know." Fingers fluffed his
hair, light touches of heat and caring. 

His tongue stumbled and pushed out the words. "What the hell are you on
about then?" 

Pulling some pills from his pocket, Barnett held them close to Bodie's
face, the white tablets blurring together in the palm. "A couple of these
would take the edge off, wouldn't they. He's going to hurt you bad this
time, sunshine. I mean, you've always been a right pain in the arse, but
not even you deserve what he's planning. Take these and maybe you'll be
able to stand it awhile longer." 

Wanting to resist, he found his mind rebelling. "What are they?" 

"Just some pain killers, nothing fancy, and nothing you haven't used
before." 

"And what's your prize in this, mate?" 

"Don't like bloody screamers, do I?" 

"Not going to scream." He flinched away as Barnett squatted even closer
beside him, his face tight and serious as his dark green eyes met his. A
hand caressed his cheek, the slender fingertips stroking the whiskers. 

"Fucking brave soldier, eh? Well, tell me, Bodie, remember Sawyer from the
old mob? Just a real tough guy, our Sawyer, eh?" 

"Yeah." The image of the man's face flashed before him, strong, and
handsomely dark, and as hard as any CI5 agent. 

"Well, I saw Krivas do him. You want to know how bloody loud a brave man
can scream when that bastard decides he wants to hear it?" 

Closing his eyes, steeling himself from the stabbing thought, his voice
stalled, but then whispered, "I need some water." 

Reaching in his pocket, Barnett pulled out a flask. "Washes better with
scotch, eh. Besides, it's all I've got." 

Opening his mouth, the bitter pills burned with the acid of liquid fear
racing to his knotted gut. He squeezed his eyes shut and let a warm hand
wipe the sweat and blood into an oily grit across his forehead. Pulling
away as a mouth pressed gently against his torn and swollen lips, he
muttered, "Bloody hell, Barnett, what are you up to then?" 

"Just a kiss for luck, sunshine. You're going to need it, aren't you." 

******

Staring down at the body on the slab, Doyle turned his head and closed an
eye. "Can't be sure, can I. Half the poor sod's face is gone, innit." 

The coroner flipped a page on his board and nodded. "Well, the prints say
it's Cusak. We're still waiting on the dental records. May take awhile.
Your Mr. Cowley acted like it was important when he called earlier." 

"Yeah, it might be. Where'd you say they found him?" 

Reaching behind him, the older man grabbed a folder and handed it to
Doyle. "That's a copy for CI5. His warehouse address is only a few miles
up river from where they found the body wedged under a bridge piling." 

The hopeful wash of promise quickened as Ray's mind swept back over the
details of the last time he saw the arms dealer alive. Isolated, the place
worked as a perfect hide out and Krivas knew of Cusak's betrayal. "Thanks,
mate. This could be the break we've been waiting for." 

Before the doctor could answer, the agent raced out the door, focused on
calling together all his resources to find the one person who mattered in
his life. 

"Hold up, Ray. Not so fast. Where are we going?" 

"Come on, Murphy. I think we've finally gotten a solid lead on where
Krivas might have Bodie stashed away." He didn't stop until the taller man
blocked his path. Impatient and suddenly angry at the delay, Ray's voice
roughed up the air. "We don't have time to waste, mate. What's the
problem?" 

"Look, I want to find Bodie as much as you do." 

"I doubt that." 

"I just think that we're jumping to conclusions. We don't know if this
Krivas bloke even has him." 

"I know he has him. Now, either get the bloody hell out of my way or I'm
going through you. Clear?" 

Stepping to the side, Murphy shook his head and followed close at Ray's
heels, his voice still even but tense. "I just want to know why you and
Cowley are both so sure that Bodie's not just off on a lark somewhere. Not
like Bodie hasn't pulled this stunt before, is it?" 

Stopping dead in his tracks, turning, he faced off, his words like sharp
knives. "Shut it, Murphy. You think George Cowley's got nothing better to
do than run us over the whole bloody country trying to find a man who's
not missing? Krivas swore at his trial that he'd kill Bodie, said it for
the record, slow and casual like he was ordering a fine malt scotch after
a long Friday. Gives me fucking chills just to remember how he said each
bloody word, eyeballing Bodie the whole time. Now he's free and my
partner's gone missing. You don't know what the sadist is capable of, but
I know he shot a woman at close range with a .44 Magnum just because he
was jealous. Imagine what he'd do to the man who sent his crazy arse to
prison." 

"I'm sorry, mate. I didn't mean anything by it. Just not as sure as you
are, am I?" 

"Move it and stop wasting time then. Tell your fucking doubts to Bodie
when we find him." 

Before he could say if, Ray put his hand in the middle of Murphy's chest.
"And I swear, if that bastard's killed him, you'd better not even try to
stop me from shooting the son of a bitch. Got that?" 

Swallowing hard, Murphy started walking. "Don't worry, Ray. Nobody going
to kill Bodie." 

"Yeah, well, Bodie might think so, but he's not bloody superman, is he." 

Reaching for the door, Murphy let him pass through as he added, "Just
don't tell Bodie you said that when we find him, mate. Break his bloody
heart, that would." 

Ray grabbed his keys and fumbled at the car's lock, praying he had the
chance to tell his partner all about his own needy heart. 

******

The soft edges of sound filtered through white crystalline ether, the very
air frozen lace. Shivering, his muscles jerked inside his skin, the
tissues angry, his whole body resisting any control. Burning hands grabbed
him and pulled him back up, the slap a punctuation to his waking. 

Words buckled against lips too thick and distorted. "Go to hell, Krivas." 

"We'll go together, Bodie. Meet all our friends there, too, no doubt." 

Fighting back the groan, he failed to keep quiet as he shifted harder
against the wall. Blood and sweat stung his right eye as he tried to focus
on the man standing just a few feet away. Krivas watched him, his thick
jacket a protection against the cold. Cloudy puffs trailed out as he
spoke. "Tell me how it hurts." 

"Won't give you the bloody satisfaction, mate. Sod off." 

The kick to the side of his skull married bone to brick and the blurry
edges of blackness snatched away the weak light. Narcotic numbness gone,
each blow lowered his resistance to wanting to end it, to scream and have
it over. 

"Say that again, Bodie. Didn't quite hear that, did I." A few beats later,
his head pulled back up, Krivas hissed, "Remember our lovely Irene? Do
you?" 

"Yeah." The word gurgled with blood, his tongue thick and rusty with red. 

"A whore." 

"And you're a bastard." 

The fist buckled his chest, each gasp a flame searing through to his back.
After a long round of coughing, the taunting voice started in again. "She
liked when I beat her, liked to be fucked. Is that what you want, too? Is
it, Bodie? Tell me about the pain." 

Oily and slick, the words drained down his throat, the mix of blood and
spit choking him. Despite the pain, he curled his lips and smiled,
exhaustion freeing his rage. "Fuck yourself, Krivas. You're the perfect
bloody couple, eh. The only bastard who would love a sick fuck like
yourself, you are." 

Hands grabbed around his throat, a vise against his windpipe, all air
gone, bright flashes exploded, his brain pulsing against the jagged
cracking of skull. Blackness drew him under, the weightless fall like a
floating sense so much like drowning, he remembered childhood winters near
the beach. Icy currents tethered him to shore only briefly, the roar of
wind and sea like gulls crying in sympathy, Ray's voice the loudest
calling. Salt biting his skin, his eyes broken, his body drifted into the
netherworld of oblivion, the dark place sorely empty and frigid without
his best mate. 

******

Thin light fevered his eyes as he opened them slowly, the punch of
hospital air burning. Tears watered tired vision as he blinked several
times to focus on the face leaning near him. "Ray?" His own voice scared
him, not his, but a rasping croak from his throat. Muscles clamped down
and made it almost impossible to swallow, the pain clutching and solid. 

"Don't talk yet. You've got a bruised windpipe that needs tending, sort of
like the rest of you, eh." A hand stroked his cheek, warm fingertips
walking up the side of his face and then combing his hair. Swelling chest
ached with wanting to stretch and capture the touch forever, but his body
ignored his desire to move. His partner's silky voice anchored him.
"You're safe now, Bodie. Just sleep. We'll talk later. So much to say,
sunshine." 

Questions spun out in a swirl, few things clear, everything madness. Eyes
closing slowly, he drifted in the warm comfort of Ray's hand holding his,
knowing only that he loved his partner. Such knowledge soothed his aches,
the overwhelming torture eased with knowing Ray would always be there. 

******

Bodie groaned as he swallowed, the searing of warm tea sheer agony against
damaged lips and the inside of his mouth. Every gulp caused protest as
newly revived areas screamed to be attended. Like so many demands from his
abused body, he ignored them and finished the drink with a frown. He put
the cup down and let his head fall back against the pillow, the sudden
spasm of strained shoulders not missed by his companion. 

"Need some more pain meds, mate?" 

"Not now, Ray. Too soon." His voice only whispered the words, but each
syllable vibrated irritated tissue. 

"Not really. Doc said you could have more if you wanted. No reason to keep
hurting if you don't need to, Bodie. No reason to be so bloody stubborn." 

Rubbing a hand at a temple to ease the pounding, Bodie spoke very
carefully. "Makes me daft, pills do. Need a clear head." 

"What for? You planning on doing a budget or something?" The teasing smile
lightened the color of the tired face. 

Ray leaned against the raised rail of the bed, one hand bracing himself,
the other resting on the injured shoulder. Bodie relaxed, the constant
nagging discomfort lessened by so simple a touch. "Need you to tell me
what happened." 

Green eyes met his as Ray nodded, surrendering to the inevitable ugly
revelations. "Okay, mate. What's the last you remember?" 

"Krivas tried to choke me." 

"Yeah, well, he almost succeeded. I came in at the last and shot the sorry
bastard." A hand teased the bruises at his throat as sad eyes watered.
"Thought I'd lost you, sunshine. Too bloody close, that was." 

"How'd you find me?" 

"Found Cusak's body. Sussed it out that Krivas might take you to the
warehouse." 

All the time he spoke, Ray's right hand massaged his shoulder, lightly and
not too hard. He focused on the rhythmic handling while the voice soothed
him even further as he remembered the dank surroundings of his prison. "So
that's where I was then? Cusak's?" 

"Yeah. Bodie?" 

Eyes closed, Bodie drifted avoiding the dim flashes of pain, the piercing
screams stabbing his memory, the black and white images attacking behind
exhausted lids. "What?" 

"We found some other bodies." 

He stiffened, the playback of the deaths too vivid to ignore. Pushing back
the nausea, he nodded. "Yeah, I know. Barnett and Tony." 

"You knew them?" 

"Barnett, yeah. A lackey for Krivas from Africa. A stupid berk who crossed
the man once too often." 

"And this Tony? Who was he? He was obviously too young for that mob. Did
you know him, too?" 

"Yeah." 

"Bodie, what is it? Who was he?" The concern tightened the words, his
partner's voice tense and worried. 

"Bait." 

He kept his eyes closed, too afraid of the judgment, of the potential
loss. 

"Bloody hell, Bodie. Don't tell me that." 

"Have to, Ray. Krivas knew. He got me to a room and then got us both. Sick
bastard took his time with him, made me watch. Poor sod screamed almost
non-stop until he finally killed him." 

Nothing prepared him for the rush, the retching stealing his guts, the
sour blankness that sealed his pain like oil stifling his already black
heart. A cool cloth wiped his mouth and face. Finally strong arms wrapped
around his trembling shoulders, the hug a fearless rescue. Words ran away
and shivered in the darkness, fucking cowards. The young man's death
became another blame, another dark trophy for Bodie's shame to shelter. 

******

"Something's wrong with Bodie." 

"He's busted up and still in hospital, sir. Just figured out something's
wrong, did you?" 

"Don't be impertinent, .45. Now sit down." Cowley motioned him to a chair
and added, "I'm not talking about his physical condition, but I think you
know that." 

Crossing his arms, Ray stared back, his face set in stubborn resistance.
"I don't know what you're talking about, sir. Doctor said he should be
able to come home in a few days. He'll be fit in a few weeks after that.
No reason to worry." 

"Your partner was tortured, Doyle. Forced to watch two men killed while
being powerless to stop it. We both know Bodie. I don't think it's too
much of a stretch to think he might feel a bit responsible." 

"That's crazy. He's not to blame for what happened." The anger coated the
words, the tension pushing out his arms and curling his hands into fists. 

"Never said he was, did I? I said Bodie may feel that. The reports say
he's having trouble sleeping, nightmares, and he won't take the pain
medications. Have you asked him why?" 

"You tell me, sir. You're the one who's got him figured out, haven't you?"


Cowley stepped to the cabinet in his office and poured two drinks,
bringing one over and handing it to Ray. "Here." 

"Not thirsty." 

"Drink it, lad. We're on the same team, aren't we?" 

Reluctantly, Ray took the scotch, sipped and then drank the rest, the heat
burning all the way down to his belly. After a few moments, he managed to
find his voice. "I'm not sure why he won't take the medicine." 

"Any guesses?" 

"They'd just be guesses, sir. You have to ask Bodie." 

"Aye. He won't tell me either." 

Glancing up, Ray took in the weary expression, the concern genuine. "What
do we do, sir? He usually tells me eventually, but this is different. He's
closed himself off, like he deserves to be alone to suffer. Won't let me
near him, not really, not since the first day in hospital." 

"You know him better than anyone, .45. Is he a danger to himself?" 

He wanted to say no, reflex almost took over, but he stopped himself. "I
don't know. Maybe. I don't think he'd do anything directly. More like do
something stupid." 

"Like ignoring doctor's orders or worse?" 

"Don't know. Honest, sir. Bodie's a hard man to read sometimes." 

"Aye." Cowley finished his own drink and poured another, offering a
refill. 

"No, sir. I'm fine." 

Going to stand by the window, Cowley spoke without looking directly at
him. "Do you think that if you had time alone with him, you could assess
his condition better?" 

"Maybe. What do you have in mind?" 

"There's a safehouse up north, a cottage in a remote area. After his
release, Bodie needs some serious downtime to work through his recovery
and to come to terms with what's happened. I won't send him there alone,
not when there's any doubt to his state of mind." 

"I could go with him, sir." 

"You know he'll argue." 

"I can argue right back then." 

"Aye, .45. I'm sure you can be more than convincing." Cowley smiled for
the first time during the meeting as he turned to face him. "Try not to
get up his nose too much, Doyle." 

"Don't worry, sir. Stubborn bastard won't know what hit him." Walking out
the door, shutting it behind him, Ray smiled and thought of the powerful
impact a kiss on Bodie's cheek might make. 

******

Moving stiffly, Bodie turned his whole body rather than test his neck. "I
just want to stay home, Ray." 

"I know, but this will be better. Just the two of us out by the beach.
It'll be lovely." 

"Lovely, my arse. It's the middle of bloody winter. This is Cowley's idea
I'll wager." He continued to walk down the hall to his door, Ray beside
him. Putting the key in the lock, he found it didn't budge. "What's going
on, eh?" 

Holding up a different key, Ray moved forward. "Let me. Had to change the
locks for security, didn't we." 

"Right. Security is it? Wouldn't be you just wanting to be the one in
charge, eh, Ray? Bloody take over as soon as a bloke blinks more than
once, you will." Fuming, his face clouded, Bodie stepped inside wanting
more than anything to just go to bed. Instead he eased himself down on the
couch and let his head rest, the persistent pounding drumming away the
roar of traffic and a closing door. 

Ray's still calm voice steadied the air. "You're just tired, mate. Need to
rest. Why don't you get undressed, take a hot shower, and crawl under the
covers. Later I'll fix us some supper. We'll leave first thing in the
morning." 

"See, take over, you do." 

"Bodie, stop pissing about and go to bed." 

He smiled at the familiar irritation, a tone he preferred. "Been waiting
for that." 

"Waiting for what then?" 

"For you to finally lose your bloody patience. Tired of being your pet
project, Ray." 

"Mad bugger." 

"Yeah, well, I'm your mad bugger, so leave off." He opened his eyes to see
intense green eyes watching him too closely, the stare like a conjurer to
truth. "Ray, I just need some time to myself, eh? Not much to ask, is it?"


"Yeah, it is, sunshine." 

"Is it?" 

"You're not talking to some bird or Murphy here, Bodie. I know you're
hurting over this thing and I'm not going to let you wallow around feeling
sorry for yourself. Got that." 

Anger gripped him before he could stop it, his tongue lashing words too
harsh, too damning. "You're not going to fucking let me? Who the bloody
hell are you, Doyle?" 

"I'm your partner, that's what. I know how you're feeling, Bodie. You've
got to let it go, mate. Wasn't your fault about Tony." 

"Shut up. You DON'T know how I'm feeling. You don't really know anything
about me." The shaking took over and he struggled to control the wild
screams inside his head, the twisting of gut against the hatred of his own
weakness. 

The sofa dipped beside him and he swung out, a skilled hand stopping the
blow before contact. "You don't want to belt me, sunshine. Might as well
smack yourself." 

"Go home, Ray. Just leave me alone." 

"Can't do it, mate. You're stuck with me, no matter. Get bloody well used
to it." 

Tough words spoken softly spun a magical calmness as arms drew him closer,
his forehead resting on a bony shoulder. 

"God, I'm so fucked, Ray." 

"I know. We'll work it out, Bodie. I promise." 

"How? By running away? By hiding in the middle of fucking nowhere?" He
lifted his face, too weary to be embarrassed, the tears still burning
against his cheeks. "Won't make the screaming stop, will it?" 

Puzzled eyes stared back. "What screams, Bodie?" 

Closing his eyes again, he let his head drop once more, the pull against
sore muscles still painful. "Too many to count. I should be right deaf by
now." 

A hand petted and stroked the back of his head as Ray held him, the slow
breathing a comfort. "It's all right, sunshine. Just rest." 

"Can't. Too noisy in the dark." 

"Then I'll lie down with you." 

Easing back, Bodie shifted away, the promise in the words too scary. "Ray,
what's going on?" 

His partner held his gaze, his right hand reaching out to touch his
retreating chest. "I should've told you before all this happened. I tried,
but you shut me out." 

"Tell me what?" 

"You can't guess?" His knee nudged Bodie's as he leaned closer, touching
his belly. "You're a bright lad, mate. You know I'm not just into birds,
never have been. You did know that, right? We never discussed it, but it's
no secret." 

"Yeah, I knew. So?" 

"God, Bodie, don't be so bloody thick. Can't you see I'm in love with you?
Have been for awhile now." 

The squeezing of his heart matched the turning of his gut, the heat from
his partner's hand a focal point of attention. Despite that, doubt and
anger still controlled his tongue. "Why tell me now? You feel sorry for
me? Pity poor mad Bodie is it?" 

Shaking his head, the brown curls like a dark halo against the light,
Ray's face settled only a few inches from his own. "Do you believe that?"
Each soft word melted against his ear, each rub edged him closer to the
full lips. 

"No, but this is really bad timing, Ray." 

"I know. Can't help that, can I." A warm air carried the words, the
breathing pushed against his lips as a hungry mouth pressed to his. The
tongue lightly probed and entered, making the quickest of visits with a
few fast licks before retreating. Pulling back, he caressed his cheek as
he spoke. "You're an irresistible bastard and I want to help." 

"Sweet talker, you are." 

"Yeah. Now, let's put you to bed, mate." 

He groaned as his partner moved away and tried to help him to his feet.
"God, Ray, you wait until I'm too battered to move to tell me you love me?
That's bloody cruel, mate." 

"Not as cruel as a man who keeps his partner in the dark about liking
blokes, eh?" 

"No, not as cruel as that." The weight of yet another regret slowed his
advancement to the bedroom. Ray nudged him harder, the poke playful but
instigating a short spasm. "Damn, you're going to pay for that when I'm
better." 

"I'm counting on it, sunshine." 

******

Skittering rocks and broken shells rolled in the steady tide, tan foamy
fingers lacing the grey sand. Hands stuffed deep into wool pockets, Bodie
stared out at the slate sky, winter's bluster an icy brine against his
bare cheeks. Ignoring the plaintive wail of lonely gulls, he turned and
headed back to the cottage. The narrow world crushed in on him and he
needed to see the one bright spot in an otherwise dark universe. 

As soon as he stepped through the door, wood smoke tickled his nose along
with the smell of fresh breakfast tea. A voice too like music warmed his
heart. "Morning, sunshine. Nice walk?" 

"Fine, Ray." 

"Then why do you look like you just came back from a double round with
Macklin then?" 

"Leave off. I'm not awake yet. Need my cuppa, don't I." 

Taking off his coat and scarf, he hung them at the door and wiped the sand
from his shoes before stepping to the stove. He poured the hot brew and
then settled at the table, both chafed hands drinking in the warmth of the
mug. Ray sat down across from him, his own drink in his hand, his eyes
steady and watchful. 

"Wish you wouldn't do that." 

"What?" 

"Keep looking at me like I'm about to go drown myself or something. I'm
okay, Ray. Really." 

"Don't seem okay, mate. Really." 

"I'm sorry. Just got a lot on my mind, that's all." 

"We need to talk about what's going on in that daft brain of yours, mate.
Tell me what you're thinking." 

"I can't, Ray." Shadowed eyes stared across, the fatigue heavy like his
own soulful bruises. His partner's concern mirrored his own, but guilt
knifed his heart and the slow bleeding shame drained him. "I know you want
to help, but this is my game, not yours." 

"A game is it? You think blaming yourself for being human's a game now?" 

"I'm not saying that." 

"Then what?" 

"I don't want to talk about this, Ray." 

"Right then. You planning on going through the rest of your life without
sleeping are you?" 

"I wish." 

"Well, I don't. I'm bloody tired, Bodie. You put on this tough front, but
at night you're a right mess, you are. You can't keep this up. No one
could, not even superman Bodie." 

"Never claimed to be that, did I. Just leave off. I'm not in the mood to
fight." 

"Neither am I, but I'm not letting this go. Tell me about the nightmares."


"They're just bad dreams." Squeezing his eyes shut, he pushed away the
frightful vision of Irene's blasted face, the bone and blood mixed like
thick crimsom paint against his skin as he held her. In the dream he
screamed to call her back from the dead only to have her lipless mouth
accuse him of letting her die. The faceless corpse whimpered about
impotence, a cold hand stroking his withered cock, the blaming words
carried up on bubbles of blood to kiss his waiting ear. "Shit." 

"What?" 

"I hate this." Pushing back from the table, Bodie stood and walked to the
window, his head down as he braced against the sink. "They just won't
leave me alone, all these people I've failed." 

Ray's body pressed up behind him, leaning in, the heat welcome. "What
people, Bodie?" 

"Irene, Tony, so many others, Ray. People I've never told you about." 

Arms wrapped his waist as his partner's head rested on his shoulder.
"You're a good man, mate. You did what you could. Krivas and all the other
mad bastards we've fought against, that you've fought against, they're the
ones to blame, not you, sunshine." 

"You don't know that, Ray. Krivas murdered Irene because she was going to
run away with me. Tony, poor sod, just happened to be in the wrong place.
Jesus, the screams." He shook his head as he tried to muffle the
vibrations haunting his thoughts. "I've killed people, but I've never
liked it, not like Krivas. He got off on hurting people, I mean, really
got off, Ray. God, what a sick fuck was Krivas." 

"Yeah, so I figured. Saw the stains, mate." 

In a voice so low he barely heard himself speak, he whispered. "We were
friends once." 

"Yeah?" 

"Shared Irene for awhile even." 

The catch of breath behind him lasted just a second before the words. "So
that's it then? You feel guilty because you missed how twisted he really
was before." 

"Should've seen it, eh? You don't know what he was like, Ray. On a
mission, he'd get high on the violence, on the rush. We'd come back to
camp and fuck like maddogs, both of us with Irene. She liked the pain,
didn't she, needed it and we gave it to her. Both of us, not just Krivas.
Bloody unbelievable how good it was between the three of us. It was only
when I got greedy and wanted to run away that he turned. Irene ended up
dead and I ended up in a bloody Congo prison." His stomach heaved at his
own words as he fought to keep the rebellious tea in his belly. 

The voice at his ear remained even, breathy but familiar and calm. "So now
you punish yourself again? You think making yourself feel like shit will
change anything, do you?" 

"I'm not punishing myself, Ray." 

"Aren't you? The nightmares are your penance, your atonement for these
godawful sins you think you've committed." Passion fired the words as Ray
pulled away and turned him around to face him. "God, it's a damn shame
Krivas isn't alive so I could shoot the bloody bastard all over again.
He's done a right number on your head, sunshine." Tender hands captured
his face, forced him to stare into his partner's determined eyes. "I wish
you could see what I see." 

"And what's that?" 

"An honorable man who'd give his own life to save a mate. Why is that
goodness so hard for you to believe in?" 

"Because I live with myself, Ray, and I'm not who you think I am." 

"No? You think I'm just some lovesick bugger who just sees what he wants
to see then?" 

"Maybe." 

Shaking his head, Ray stepped back, releasing him. His body ached with the
absence. "I'm going out for awhile." 

"Ray?" 

Holding up a hand, Ray's sad face hardened. "Don't, Bodie. I need to get
away for awhile, and you, mate, need to take a serious look at yourself.
Think about who I am and if you really trust me or not." 

"Of course I trust you, Ray. I love you." 

"Yeah? Damn, Bodie. Do you realize that's the first time you've actually
said it out loud?" Eyes locked to his and he watched a greater cloud sweep
across clear green. "And I'd like to believe it. You really don't know how
much." 

"What do I have to do to convince you?" 

"I want you to think about who you think I am." 

"What? I don't understand. You're not making any sense, Ray." 

"Do you seriously think I'd love a bloke as evil as you seem to think you
are? Do you? 

Bodie rubbed his forehead, the power of his partner's words sharp, bloody
hooks snagging at his brain. "I'm sorry. I'm just confused right now,
that's all." 

"You're right fucked at the moment, no doubt about that, mate. Maybe more
of a mess than I can help. I don't know. I'd like to think you still care
about getting better." 

"I do." 

"Yeah? Listen to me then, you crazy bastard, and I mean really listen.
You're a good man, Bodie. One I trust with my very life. You need to
believe that as much as I do." 

Swallowing hard, the lump of words too thick to come out cleanly, he
forced them forward. "Don't leave me, Ray. Please." 

Arms wrapped his shoulders and he heard the shushing sound of his name
over and over, everything distant and yet closing in around him. Sinking
into the powerful connection, his very bones sagged with the weight of
exhaustion. Guided to bed still fully dressed, he slumped and folded,
spooned back into the strong supporting body of his partner. Sleep drew
him down, but fear stayed just outside the edge of the shimmering shadows,
just at the border of his own screaming madness. 

******

The sucking at his neck pulled him to the pale light as he took deeper
breaths, each one bringing him closer to full consciousness. A hand snaked
around his middle while the other teased his hair. The slow swelling of
arousal added to the delicious heaviness of waking. "God, Ray, that feels
fine, mate." 

"Like that, do you?" Licks and tiny nibbles coated his ear and flesh, his
whiskers fired by the contrast of heated tongue and cool air. 

"Yeah." Blinking several times to clear his vision, his partner's labors
brought a smile. "Hungry?" 

"Missed breakfast and lunch, didn't I." A low moan sent shivers through
his shoulders as once again an eager mouth worked against his heated skin.
"You taste salty like the sea air. I like it." 

The vibration of the words sizzled his brain as he shifted back to find
his partner's arousal pushing against his backside. Startled, he froze
completely at the realization of need. "God, Ray, what are we doing,
mate?" 

Stopping for the moment, Ray pulled far enough away to let him turn on his
back, his naked form above him. Raising a hand, he tested his fingers
against the fuzzy warm chest hair, found a nipple hiding, and teased it.
The catching breath and shudder pleased him. "What happened to your
clothes, eh?" 

Letting his body lean forward, Ray's smooth, husky whisper spread the
words across the short distance, his hands rubbing up and down over
Bodie's wool sweater. "Too many of the bloody things between us. Get
naked, mate. Join me. Feels good being here like this." His face lowered,
swollen mouth barely brushing his with just the slightest tip of tongue. 

"You sure?" 

Humping his erection against his thigh, he smiled, the desire blacking his
pupils even darker. "Feel sure, don't I?" 

"Feel like a horny teenager, that's what." 

He chuckled deep in his chest but stopped laughing as Ray shifted and
straddled his groin, his stare mesmerizing. "Horny, yeah, but I'm no
bloody teenager, Bodie, and neither are you. I know what I want, don't I.
Have for a long time." 

His breathing more labored, his partner's nude form holding him down,
words came out sluggish. Doubt like thick webs stalled thinking, his
overwhelmed brain wrapped in foggy clouds. "What's that, Ray? What is it
you want from me?" 

Ray crisscrossed his forearms, leaning forward to support himself while he
spoke, calm and direct. "Don't be afraid, Bodie. I see it in your eyes,
mate, sheer terror, eh? I scare you that much, do I?" 

"Don't talk like a nutter, Ray." He tried to turn his head, to break the
telling gaze, but found a forceful hand holding his chin, the restriction
like an iron mask, steady and unyielding. 

"Look at me, Bodie. Tell me what you see." 

"My partner acting right crazy looks like." 

"Yeah?" 

Reluctantly, he admitted, "No." 

"Then what? What are you afraid to say?" 

Breathing 12-foot spikes would've be easier than speaking. "You scare me,
Ray. I don't know what you really want. I don't want to hurt you." 

"You won't hurt me, sunshine. Never that." The honey-rich voice coated his
hearing, the words like sweet melted chocolate on the starved tongue.
Casually as a lazy cat, Ray released his chin, licking it several times
before kissing it gently. He pulled back to add, "And I won't hurt you
either. Promise." 

"I'm not afraid of that." 

"Aren't you?" 

"I trust you." 

"Prove it then. Take your clothes off and join me." 

His breathing too challenged, he begged, "Help me." 

Without another word expert hands and fingers shifted his body upward, the
sweater over his head and gone, the oxford beneath it unbuttoned and
dispensed with. Undressed like a sleepy child, Ray took off his shoes, and
stripped off his jeans and his briefs. He spied his results as he shoved
him back down on the bed with a bounce, fully exposed. Licking his lips
with satisfaction, he spoke with a hush of reverent appreciation. "God,
Bodie, you're so bloody beautiful." 

Glancing down, he saw only the fading bruises, the scars, and the aging
surface of his own form. His cock and balls lay hidden in dark curls, limp
and useless. Embarrassed he reached to pull up the covers, only to have
Ray stop him. "No. I want to see you." 

"I'm cold, Ray." 

"Not for long. Spread your legs and I'll warm your gorgeous bones,
sunshine." 

Reflex opened his thighs to the hushed command as Ray climbed on the bed
to kneel between them. The mere touch of his cock to groin tightened him
all over, the thrill a delicious reaction to silky heat rubbed against its
twin. His partner wrapped a hand around him, the swelling a slow hiss of
greeting to his dulled brain. Sparks flew up his middle, the fiery touch
arching his spine. Babble sprang from his throat and dribbled from a dumb
tongue, words meaningless and yet inspiring. Ray's whole body pressed
against him, thrusting, his voracious mouth stealing what little air he
could manage while vacuum space collapsed his unresponsive lungs, traitors
to survival. 

Every dulled nerve fired at once, thrilled to sizzle power to his belly,
building to critical mass, traveling to one purpose. Explosion rattled his
skull, surrendered his closed eyes to an impossible blast of light,
blinding, but vision filled, each haunt fractured and suddenly quiet.
Every bone cracked and singed to cinders and ash, every sensation bursting
at once. Pain against pleasure squeezed every muscle and then pumped one
last time before releasing, sheer sensation forced up from his center. 

His sudden scream scraped the bloody throat raw. Ray Doyle touched his
very heart and swallowed his fear, his doubt, and his black soul. His best
mate gulped down the stunning yell without even a whimper or moan. Body
shaking, he held on, arms clutching his partner, both their labored
breathing and racing heartbeats straining all healthy limits. 

Gasping, still not recovered, he shook his head. "Bloody hell, Ray. You're
a talented bugger." He kissed the top of damp curls and smiled. "Thanks." 

"Love you, Bodie." The breathy words soothed him, his eyelids suddenly too
heavy to stay open. Ray's nude form still draped his body, totally relaxed
and heavy. Whispering in his ear, he added, "You okay, sunshine?" 

"Lovely, mate. Never better. Really." 

"Lucky we're in the middle of nowhere then." 

"Yeah?" 

"You screamed bloody murder, you did. Would've scared the neighbors in
town. Didn't know you were such a noisy sod." 

He snorted and shook his head. "Never was before, mate. Bring out the
howler in me, you do." 

Raising a sleepy face, Ray smiled. "Do me best, sunshine. Now, time for a
kip, eh?" 

"Maybe we should clean up first." 

"Naw." The lazy drawl tickled his chest. "Waste of time really." 

"How's that?" 

"Make another mess later, won't we." 

"You think so?" 

"Messy business, love." 

"Think so?" 

"Know so, especially with a nutter like you. Now go to sleep, Bodie. Need
my strength, don't I." He squirmed and wrapped his arms tighter, his knees
pulled up slightly, but still between spread legs. Just that small
movement triggered another twitch, a pleasing sensory blast to thicken his
cock. The chuckle against his chest shook his whole body as Ray petted his
crotch, the slippery fluid letting his hand slide freely between them.
"Greedy bastard. Go back to sleep." And with that he pulled the blankets
up and over them, his deep laugh near a growl. 

Suddenly playful, more content than he could ever remember, Bodie
whispered, "Jesus, Ray, I think you've created a monster." 

Still fondling the half-erect cock like a new play pretty, Ray smiled, his
lips curled back, smug and happy. "And training the randy sod will keep us
both busy, eh?" A few short strokes and squeezes brought him all the way
back, the ache as strong as the first time. 

"God, Ray." 

"I can't believe you can be so hard so soon, mate. So bloody hard.
Should've figured." A brief sigh turned his voice sultry. "Don't close
your eyes. I want you to look at me when you get off this time." 

"What about you? Let me touch you." 

"Too soon for me, luv. Later." The whole time he talked, a heated palm
pumped him, the other hand rolling his balls, the tightness near pain, but
a wonderful hurt that stretched muscle to bone. Sweat slicked his thighs
all over as he worked his hips in the rhythm of Ray's fist, his eyes never
leaving the piercing green watching him. Once again the rolling pressures
wound through his gut, the tension gripping him, only this time slow and
easy, taut to breaking, but not quite. Eyes closed only an instant and the
movement stopped. 

Groaning protest, he pleaded, "Jesus, Ray. Please." 

"Look at me." 

Vision fluttered and he focused, the intense stare stealing his breath all
over again. "I love you, Bodie." 

The tender smile merged with pure sensation, generous weight as the
stroking action renewed in earnest. Struggling to keep the gaze, he moaned
with the effort not to sink into the solid clench of his body contracting.
The uncontrolled jerks rushed through almost as strong as the first time.
With a startled scream, his throat too sore to stop it, his heels dug
deeply into the mattress while Ray milked the last of him before he could
breathe again. 

Musky hands caressed his face, gently wiping the clinging spill of tears
from his bearded cheeks. Turning his head, he captured and kissed the palm
still slick with his own semen. "God, Ray. Don't ever leave me." 

"Never, Bodie. We're best mates. Forever." 

"Promise?" 

"It's in the fine print, sunshine. Now go to sleep, you greedy bastard,
before I have to get rough." 

Teasing, suddenly careless, Bodie whispered, "Maybe I like rough, Ray.
Deserve it, don't I." 

"Bloody hell." Groaning in fatigue and frustration, Ray pushed himself to
sit up, his eyes squinted, his mouth still swollen but now angry. "You're
a right mess." 

"Why, because I'm being honest?" 

"Honest about what? Wanting to be hurt?" 

"Maybe." He turned his head, Ray's disappointed stare too much to handle.
The chill froze his skin, his euphoria gone, replaced with the sinking
regret of revealing too much. 

"Don't fucking do that." Ray lay beside him, his face back in his view,
the green eyes tired and sad. "I hate when you shut me out like that." 

"I'm sorry." 

"I know. Look, we've both got a lot to think about, and I'm really too
tired to deal with this right now. Don't want to say anything wrong, do
I." 

"I don't mean to spoil things. Just do." 

"God, Bodie." Arms drew him closer, his head resting and petted as Ray
held him, his heart beating steady beneath his ear. "Just rest now. We'll
talk later." 

Settling against the warm skin, his own arms folded in against himself, he
sighed, "I'm not an easy bloke, Ray. You know that." A chin rubbed against
the top of his head, but no words came from his partner as he hugged him
just a bit tighter. 

He closed his eyes, the deep and rhythmic pumping of his lover's heart a
lullaby to lure safe sleep from the shadows, a chant to create dreams
without taunting spirits. Nestled there he drifted, worried, but hopeful.
The rare heart so near his own drummed away the haunting whispers, the
blaming voices turned to screams that threatened his peace. Ray Doyle
tamed the anxious spirit, not with violence, but with the strength of his
own faith. Damaged and limping, Bodie's mind settled down, accepted the
gift shyly and found his place in his partner's protective arms. 

Ray's gentle voice enthralled and soothed him as he shifted inside that
embrace. "Settle down, Bodie. Just sleep for me now." 

And he did. 

-- THE END --

*Dedicated to Rob for the inspiration and support.*

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