![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
FIC UPDATE: Angels Ain't Easy Chaper 25 (A Shot In the Arm)
Title: Angels Ain’t Easy
Author: Archet
Pairing: OMC Jody McKinnon/Matt Hawkes
Fandom: High Mountain Rangers
Summary: a story of falling in love, figuring things out and just holding on.
Disclaimer: I did not create the High Mountain Ranger character/s, only this fic and the Original Male Character, Jody McKinnon, and any other original characters in supporting roles. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: this fic is set in 1989, approximately a year and a half after the events of the final episode of High Mountain Rangers. There will be no acknowledgment of the events of the spin-off show Jesse Hawkes.
Note: this fic takes place a little over four months after Bad Luck, Bad Guys and High Mountain Rangers and is a sequel to that fic, so reading that first is recommended.
Additional: this fic will depict same sex physical and romantic relationships, and dominate/submissive themes. If this ain’t your thing, venture no further.
Summary this chapter: Wheeler interrogates Matt for information.
Warnings: see end of chapter for warnings if needed so as not to spoil chapter -- nothing graphic.
Chapter 25: A Shot in the Arm
“Bit of a shock, I’m guessing?” Wheeler asked.
Despite himself, Matt couldn’t tear his eyes away from the badge. It was legit; at least, it looked legit. After a few seconds Wheeler finally folded the leather holder back up, and taking a step away, tossed it on the table. Matt’s gaze followed its arc, watching as it skidded over the table’s polished surface to come to rest next to Wheeler’s pistol.
FBI?
Jon?
The two concepts didn’t even compute. Matt released a breath, shaking his head slightly to clear it. Whatever he’d been dosed with had largely cleared, but he didn’t know whether or not the queasiness in the pit of his stomach was due to the drugs, or the information Wheeler had just shared.
Suddenly all of Jonathan’s secrecy, his reluctance to share anything of substance about his life, was starting to make sense.
“Look, I’d love to give you some time mull all this over, but I’m in a bit of a time crunch,” Wheeler said. He stood a few feet away, regarding Matt with interest, hands braced on his hips.
The unpleasant, squirmy sensation in Matt’s gut intensified, and he counted out a couple of steady, even breaths before he spoke.
“Like I said,” he began, looking up at Wheeler. “I don’t know where Jonathan is.”
Wheeler huffed out a breath, mouth curling up. “Yeah, I figured that’s what you’d say. What if I told you your boyfriend was responsible for the deaths, the executions, of several of his fellow agents?”
Matt stared, shaking his head even as he replied, “He’s not my boyfriend. And I don’t believe you.”
“Even after what I just showed you?” Wheeler asked. “Matt, let’s be real, you don’t know anything about the man Jonathan really is.”
Mind racing, Matt looked away, hiding his eyes from Wheeler as he attempted to get his thoughts in order. If Jonathan was FBI, what then was Wheeler? Was he FBI as well? Matt had to admit, the guy certainly sounded like a cop. Regardless, he needed to keep the guy talking, give Jody time to realize something was wrong. Maybe someone had seen his and Wheeler’s tussle in the diner’s parking lot? Maybe it’d been reported to the police? Maybe Jody had called the station already, and on not finding Matt was raising the alarm, or at least beginning to suspect something odd was going on.
That was more maybe’s than Matt was comfortable with, but so far there wasn’t much he could do about it.
“Maybe I don’t know Jon like I thought,” he said, and concealing his hope Matt lifted his chin and faced Wheeler again. “But I know he’s isn’t a murderer.”
Wheeler held his gaze for a long moment. Matt stared back. After a beat, Wheeler smiled, then after a breath, he sighed, and straightening stood back on his heels, sliding his hands into the pockets of his windbreaker. Tilting his head, he studied Matt again, gaze assessing, probing.
“Was he that good to you, Matt?” Wheeler asked, again employing a gentle tone that made the hairs on the back of Matt’s neck stand up. “You’re still going to be loyal, even in the face of this?” A gesture was made in the direction of the badge.
Swallowing against the dryness of his mouth, Matt shrugged. “I’m not being loyal. I’m just not taking the word of an asshole that assaulted me, drugged me, and tied me to a fucking chair as fact.”
As Wheeler’s expression closed off, going blank, Matt smirked.
“Anyway, all you’ve shown me is a badge, and that may make Jonathan a liar, but that’s it. I mean, it’s not that hard to figure out if you think real hard about it,” he said, pushing as much condescension into his voice as possible.
Gaze narrowing, Wheeler favored Matt with a speculative look. “You’ve got a point, I suppose,” he said slowly. Letting out a breath, he tilted his head to one side and then the other, as if to work out tension there. “And I see what you’re trying to do, by the way.”
Focusing on staying relaxed and not giving in to the mounting urge to strain against his bonds, Matt asked, “And what’s that?”
“You’re trying to antagonize me. Provoke me,” Wheeler said, and taking a step closer, he continued. “You’re figuring that I know all the tricks. Is that it, Matt? Empathize with your kidnapper, get him to see you as a person, achieve a connection.”
Coming to a stop right in front of Matt’s chair, Wheeler said, “So you’re going for the next best thing. Distract me. Needle me. Make me angry.”
Feeling a bead of sweat trickle down his spine, Matt fought the urge to squirm. “Wow. You got me all figured out,” he said dully.
Wheeler rocked in place, and looking down said, “I’ll even bet you’ve guessed that I worked with Jonathan? That I’m an agent too, haven’t you?”
Matt tipped his head back, looking Wheeler in the eyes. “Oh, yeah, it’s the windbreaker that gave it away. And guess what, genius? I still don’t know any more about Jonathan, or his whereabouts, than I did five minutes ago, so you’re still shit outta luck.”
Wheeler chuckled, a rather unsettling sound, Matt thought.
“I think I see what Salvatore liked about you,” Wheeler said, raising a brow with a half smile on his lips.
“Gee. Thanks, I guess,” Matt offered flatly.
Wheeler laughed shortly and then replied, “You’re welcome, but we’ve gotten a little off track, haven’t we?”
With a sinking feeling, Matt fought to stay relaxed as much as possible, kept his breathing steady, and remained watchful for any possible advantages that might present itself.
“So,” Wheeler began, and drawing his hands from his jacket pockets, took a step closer. “Let’s just cut right to the chase.”
There was something held in the man’s left hand. Despite himself, Matt reacted, recoiled back against the back of the chair at the sight of a syringe held in Wheeler’s fist. The fine point of the needle looked to be about an inch long.
Heart pounding, Matt looked up, meeting Wheeler’s gaze. “Go to hell,” he spat.
“Already been, got the t-shirt to prove it,” Wheeler replied, and moving to stand at Matt’s side, brought the syringe up, holding it out in his opened palm. The barrel was over half filled with a yellowish liquid.
“I could hurt you, Matt,” Wheeler said evenly, sounding strangely thoughtful, his eyes on the syringe now as he brought it up; needle pointed at the ceiling. He gently thumped the syringe’s barrel. “But I’d rather not. So how about we do this instead?”
Pressing the plunger with his thumb, Wheeler forced a small amount of the liquid inside the barrel to push up through the fine, silver needle. The liquid made a quick arch in the air, and then dropped, spattering onto the stone tiled floor with barely a whisper.
“It’s been proven, well, mostly proven, that the implementation of physical violence or force generates somewhat questionable data, at times,” Wheeler offered, as if reeling off the information he’d learned from a text book by rote. “But I think we both know the quality of those results lies in the proper application of said force, don’t we?”
Understanding that there was little to nothing he could do to prevent the application of whatever methods Wheeler meant to apply, Matt decided to go for broke.
“I think you’re fucking certifiable, so spare me your psychobabble. Do whatever you’re gonna do and get it over with.”
Wheeler huffed a brief laugh, and reaching down began to loosen the cord wound tightly around Matt’s forearm.
“This is just a little something to relax you, make you a little more… forthcoming,” he said evenly. “It won’t hurt. In a couple hours you won’t even be able to tell it ever happened. I just need you to be a bit more cooperative, and this is the most efficient way.”
Matt gritted his teeth and looked away, fingers curling around the ends of the chair’s arm rests as Wheeler slid the needle under his skin. The minor prick developed into an uncomfortable sting as the drug was injected. Heart pounding, his coiled anger snapped and hissed at the injustice, and his fear of what came next sounded as white noise inside his head. As quickly as the sting had come, it dissipated as the needle was quickly removed.
It wasn’t until he felt the heavy hand on his shoulder that Matt could face Wheeler again. The man’s gaze searched his. Searching for what, Matt could only guess. Eventually, whatever it was Wheeler was looking for he either found, or gave up on finding it. Releasing a breath the man straightened and moved away, carefully placing the emptied syringe on the table at Matt’s right hand side.
“See? That wasn’t so bad,” Wheeler observed as he looked at his wristwatch. “Just be a few minutes now.”
Matt wanted to ask what was going to happen in a few minutes, but clamped his jaw shut. A shiver ran through him, though he didn’t feel cold. He swallowed, and let his body relax. Wheeler was going to be disappointed. He wanted Matt cooperative, he’d said, but what the man didn’t realize was that Matt truly didn’t know anything revealing when it came to Jonathan. In fact, Wheeler himself had provided more insight into Jon than Jon himself, and half of that was bullshit.
Matt chuckled to himself. What a shit show. He sighed, and let his head drop back to rest against the wooden back of the chair. His eyes felt heavy. A wild thought shot through him that maybe Wheeler had overdosed him? Lifting his head, he frowned, and looked down the long length of the dining table. The sunlight slanting in through the row of windows danced over its lacquered surface in a peculiar way, and Matt stared, mesmerized by the shimmering colors until he came to with a start, suddenly remembering he was tied to chair in a strange place, being held by a what might be a genuine lunatic.
Focus, dammit. Think of Jo. Hold onto your focus
Wheeler had moved to the far end near the fireplace, and was talking with someone, a broad chested, thick-necked man wearing brown slacks and a beige Members Only jacket. Matt blinked hard a few times. He hadn’t even noticed the new arrival. His vision cleared, the dancing sunlight subsiding into normal sunbeams. He bit down hard on the side of his cheek, and the little burst of pain seemed to reorder his scattered thoughts.
After another few seconds of conversation--Matt couldn’t discern any actual words, only the muffled sounds of the two men’s voices--Wheeler turned and started back his way. Thick-neck pivoted and left via the door next to the fireplace Matt had noticed earlier, leaving it slightly ajar behind him. Wheeler bypassed his own chair and came to Matt’s side. Hitching his hip, he leaned against the table and sat down on its lip, one leg dangling down.
Tilting his head, he observed Matt with interest. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
Matt considered the question; saw no reason not to answer. “Fine,” he replied.
“No headache?” Wheeler asked.
Matt shook his head. “Nope.”
“That’s good,” Wheeler said. “Matt, can you tell me who Jonathan Silva is to you?”
Matt nodded. “Sure. We dated a few months. I thought things were pretty serious, right up until he took off. I don’t know what we are now.”
Wheeler nodded. “So Jonathan was your lover?”
Again, Matt nodded. “Oh, yeah,” he said, smiling a little. “It was really good, I mean, for a while.” He frowned. “I mean, now I know a little more about why he disappeared, but back then, yeah, I kinda hated him for bailing on me.”
Why am I telling him this?
“That’s too bad. Jonathan should not have done that,” Wheeler said, then added, “But I’d like to talk about back when things were good between you two.”
Brushing aside his confusion, Matt said, “Sure.”
“When you were together, did Jon tell you anything about his job, or who he worked for?”
Matt thought for a moment. The phrasing of the question disqualified Jon’s mention of being involved with the mob from their morning meeting, so Matt replied, “He said he worked for Crystal River, the resort chain.”
Wheeler nodded. “Right. But back then, did he ever mention anyone else that he might have done work for?”
Again, Matt considered the question closely, and then shook his head. “Nope.”
“You’re sure?” Wheeler pressed.
“I’m sure,” Matt said.
“Matt,” Wheeler began, stopped for a beat, and then continued. “Did Jon ever give you anything for safekeeping? Something like a list of numbers? Anything like that?”
Opening his mouth to answer, Matt found himself hesitating.
“Matt?” Wheeler prodded. “You can tell me. It’s okay.”
Confusion danced across Matt’s thoughts like the sunlight on the table.
I don’t want to do this.
Focus. Jody. Jody’s gonna come.
Taking a breath, Matt felt a surety slide into place at the thought of his lion. He looked at Wheeler. “No, Jon never gave me anything like that, but man, when Jody finds out what you’ve done he’s gonna freak.”
Frowning, Wheeler’s chin tipped down and he looked hard at Matt. “Who is Jody, Matt? Is he connected to Jonathan?”
Matt scoffed. “Of course not.”
Leaning in, gaze fixed on Matt’s face, Wheeler pressed. “Who is Jody?”
Matt sighed, and all but slouched in the chair. He could really use a nap. The ropes really were most inconvenient, though he supposed he could put up with them a while longer. His flexed his fingers, working on getting the blood flowing back through them, and frowned as they tingled.
“Matt? Who is Jody?” Wheeler asked again.
Looking up, Matt smiled. He liked thinking about Jody. He’d almost forgotten Wheeler was there.
“Jody’s my boyfriend.”
Wheeler made a thoughtful noise, and pushed up from the table. He paced a few feet away, turned and came back, coming to a stop in front of Matt’s chair. He folded his arms over his chest, gazing at Matt for a long moment.
“Does Jody know anything about why Jonathan came back up here to see you?” Wheeler finally asked.
Matt shook his head, replying with a note of exasperation. “No, how could he? Jody doesn’t know Jon at all, and trusts him even less.”
Nodding thoughtfully, Wheeler said, “Let’s get back to you and Jonathan. You’re sure he never mentioned anything about some codes? Not even today when you saw him? A list of numbers, like account numbers? Anything like that?”
Matt considered for a long beat. Wheeler had asked several questions. “No, that doesn’t sound like anything he ever talked about or gave me.”
Matt hoped his answer satisfied Wheeler, as the conversation was frankly becoming boring. He’d much rather talk about Jody than whatever Wheeler was on about. He flexed his arms against his bonds restlessly. The chair wasn’t very comfortable, though as he fidgeted he found that his left hand was a littler freer than before, the cord wrapped around him having been loosened up a bit by Wheeler when he’d administered the shot.
Frowning, Matt recalled the prick and the sting as Wheeler had forced the drug into him. Jody wasn’t going to like that at all. Looking up at Wheeler, Matt considered the strange calm that had settled over him. He should be much more pissed off than he felt.
“How about we talk about the things Jonathan did give you,” Wheeler suggested.
Matt sighed, weary of the subject. “Okay.”
“Like what, exactly?” Wheeler asked.
“You mean, like what did Jon give me?” Matt wanted to know.
“Exactly, Matt. What did he give you?”
Matt thought back, and the more he considered the question, the less it seemed like any of Wheeler’s business.
“Nothing much,” he replied vaguely.
Tipping his head back, Wheeler sighed. “Come on, Matt. You were doing so well, think back carefully.”
“It was mostly dinners out, dates, stuff like that,” Matt said, a thread of annoyance running through his tone.
Wheeler soothed him. “That’s good. What about actual gifts?”
Gaze narrowing, Matt pinned Wheeler with a hard look. “Why do you need to know?”
Wheeler took a moment in answering. Unfolding his arms, he looked at his wristwatch again, and mumbled something Matt couldn’t quite make out. Something in the man’s stance changed then as he took a step closer, his broad shoulders squaring off, his arms going down at his sides, fingers clenched into fists.
“Because Jonathan stole something very valuable from me, Matt. And I need it back.”
Matt considered Wheeler’s reason, and found he cared very little for the man’s predicament.
“So? That’s not my problem,” he replied easily.
Expression tightening, Wheeler advanced another step. “But it is, Matt. Now answer the question. I know you want to.”
Matt frowned, thinking back to that time. “He bought me clothes sometimes, nice things, expensive things. He liked dressing me up, not that that’s any of your fucking business,” he replied, pushing a little petulance into his tone.
Matt felt heat rise over his face, and though Wheeler was right--Matt did want to answer his question-- something inside him was beginning to chafe and squirm. Something didn’t feel right.
“What else?” Wheeler prodded.
The image of the jade hawk rose in Matt’s mind, and the pressing need to share the information danced over his nerves, promising relief if only he’d give in. The need to comply had made his answers flow freely, but there was something about Wheeler now, something predatory about the way he was watching Matt, that made him clamp his mouth stubbornly shut.
“Matt?” Wheeler said evenly. “What are you thinking of? I can see there’s something you want to tell me.”
“I’m not sure,” Matt mumbled.
Why was it so hard to answer, where before it’d been so easy?
“Stop fighting it, kid. I don’t want to have to dose you again so soon. It’ll hurt if I do. You’re young, but I don’t know if your heart could withstand it, but I will if you make me, Matt.”
Matt curled his fingers back around the chair’s armrests. The wood beneath his palms felt good, felt solid and real. He concentrated on that feeling, even as the compulsion to obey unwound inside him. He pushed against the urge, and felt sweat break out over his skin. He shivered, and the gliding calm from before melted away, leaving a strange and confusing sensation, like an itch under his skin he couldn’t get to.
Matt looked away, shaking his head in denial. “I don’t know,” he said.
The touch to his hair startled him. His gaze darted up, and Wheeler was there, close, his fingers gentle as he smoothed Matt’s hair back from his temple.
“I know it’s hard,” Wheeler said softly. “But you’re doing so, so well, Matt.”
The praise activated a warm wash of satisfaction in Matt. He felt himself relaxing a little, felt some of his stubbornness drain away. Wheeler’s big hand drifted down, his palm a warm press against Matt’s cheek.
“I won’t hurt you, Matt, if you don’t make me. I promise. But you have to tell me what I need to know.”
“Um,” Matt said, the eagerness to submit warring with the unnerving, twitching warning that was mounting inside him.
“Come on, kid,” Wheeler encouraged.
“It was nothing,” Matt began, at a lost why the information was so important. “Just a hawk.”
Wheeler’s hand fell away, and Matt let out a relieved breath. He didn’t want the asshole touching him. He didn’t like it.
“A hawk?” Wheeler asked, genuinely confused.
“Yeah,” Matt said. “A figurine. A carving of a hawk. Like my last name? Hawkes.”
Wheeler blinked, thoughts turning inward. “Interesting.”
Matt watched as Wheeler retreated, taking a couple steps away. The warm sensation of the man’s touch lingered on Matt’s skin, and his body tightened in response. He felt queasy, and there had been something intimate and personal about it, about the way Wheeler had touched him. Only Jody got to touch him that way. It felt weird and wrong.
Focus.
Matt’s thought from earlier sounded through him, like a bell struck. He drew in a quick breath. He blinked, something clicking over inside him as the realization of what was being done to him snapped into focus. How had he lost the truth of that so easily?
“Where is the hawk now, Matt?” Wheeler asked, looking down with a new light in his eyes.
Focus.
“I packed it up someplace,” Matt said, lending particular concentration to his words. “I’m not sure precisely where it is right now.”
Both things were true. At one time, he had packed the hawk up. And currently, Matt wasn’t a hundred percent where the hawk lay. He knew it was either on his kitchen counter, or perched on the window sill. It’d traveled around his kitchen since Jody had discovered it in his pantry, just being moved from here to there until Matt decided what the hell to do with it.
Wheeler seemed to accept his answer, and the man turned away and stood seemingly lost in thought. Matt took a cleansing breath, watching Wheeler warily. A muted thrill of victory filtered down through the forced calm running through his veins.
Focus.
Jody.
Matt breathed a little easier, just thinking of his lover. Jody would come, Matt knew it. He was suddenly unshakably certain of it. Another breath and he felt stronger, steadier.
Matt could feel it. His lion was coming for him. A smile curved his lips.
“What are you smiling about?”
Matt lifted his head. It was Wheeler, standing once more by the table, one hand resting against its surface, head tilted toward Matt as if he’d momentarily forgotten he was there, lashed down to the furniture.
Happy to answer this question Matt said, “Jody is gonna kill you.”
Gaze narrowing, Wheeler raised a brow. “Is that a fact?”
Matt nodded, feeling very certain. “Oh, yeah.”
In the face of Matt’s blatant confidence, Wheeler’s mouth flattened out into a hard line. Reaching out, he picked up his pistol, making a show of thumbing off the safety before sliding it into a holster under his jacket. He faced Matt squarely, brown eyes hard.
“I’m not worried about your boyfriend, Matt.”
Still smiling, Matt lifted his chin. “I’ll remember you said that.”
****Additional Notes*****
Inching right along! I decided that Wheeler should do something other than beat the info out of Matt, so here we have the idea of the 'truth serum'. I don't doubt such things exist, though I doubt they work quite this way, I just tailored the results to fit my flow. I like the idea of Matt being stubborn enough to push against it, and naturally calling on his connection to Jody to help him through it. I think Wheeler would do just about anything to get what he needs, and his reasons why will eventually become apparent. It's not just Jonathan he wants, but what Jonathan knows is his goal. Next up we'll see how well Jody, Jon and Alex work together! If they can at all, ha!
*****
WARNINGS for: threat of violence, intimation, drugging
Author: Archet
Pairing: OMC Jody McKinnon/Matt Hawkes
Fandom: High Mountain Rangers
Summary: a story of falling in love, figuring things out and just holding on.
Disclaimer: I did not create the High Mountain Ranger character/s, only this fic and the Original Male Character, Jody McKinnon, and any other original characters in supporting roles. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: this fic is set in 1989, approximately a year and a half after the events of the final episode of High Mountain Rangers. There will be no acknowledgment of the events of the spin-off show Jesse Hawkes.
Note: this fic takes place a little over four months after Bad Luck, Bad Guys and High Mountain Rangers and is a sequel to that fic, so reading that first is recommended.
Additional: this fic will depict same sex physical and romantic relationships, and dominate/submissive themes. If this ain’t your thing, venture no further.
Summary this chapter: Wheeler interrogates Matt for information.
Warnings: see end of chapter for warnings if needed so as not to spoil chapter -- nothing graphic.
Chapter 25: A Shot in the Arm
“Bit of a shock, I’m guessing?” Wheeler asked.
Despite himself, Matt couldn’t tear his eyes away from the badge. It was legit; at least, it looked legit. After a few seconds Wheeler finally folded the leather holder back up, and taking a step away, tossed it on the table. Matt’s gaze followed its arc, watching as it skidded over the table’s polished surface to come to rest next to Wheeler’s pistol.
FBI?
Jon?
The two concepts didn’t even compute. Matt released a breath, shaking his head slightly to clear it. Whatever he’d been dosed with had largely cleared, but he didn’t know whether or not the queasiness in the pit of his stomach was due to the drugs, or the information Wheeler had just shared.
Suddenly all of Jonathan’s secrecy, his reluctance to share anything of substance about his life, was starting to make sense.
“Look, I’d love to give you some time mull all this over, but I’m in a bit of a time crunch,” Wheeler said. He stood a few feet away, regarding Matt with interest, hands braced on his hips.
The unpleasant, squirmy sensation in Matt’s gut intensified, and he counted out a couple of steady, even breaths before he spoke.
“Like I said,” he began, looking up at Wheeler. “I don’t know where Jonathan is.”
Wheeler huffed out a breath, mouth curling up. “Yeah, I figured that’s what you’d say. What if I told you your boyfriend was responsible for the deaths, the executions, of several of his fellow agents?”
Matt stared, shaking his head even as he replied, “He’s not my boyfriend. And I don’t believe you.”
“Even after what I just showed you?” Wheeler asked. “Matt, let’s be real, you don’t know anything about the man Jonathan really is.”
Mind racing, Matt looked away, hiding his eyes from Wheeler as he attempted to get his thoughts in order. If Jonathan was FBI, what then was Wheeler? Was he FBI as well? Matt had to admit, the guy certainly sounded like a cop. Regardless, he needed to keep the guy talking, give Jody time to realize something was wrong. Maybe someone had seen his and Wheeler’s tussle in the diner’s parking lot? Maybe it’d been reported to the police? Maybe Jody had called the station already, and on not finding Matt was raising the alarm, or at least beginning to suspect something odd was going on.
That was more maybe’s than Matt was comfortable with, but so far there wasn’t much he could do about it.
“Maybe I don’t know Jon like I thought,” he said, and concealing his hope Matt lifted his chin and faced Wheeler again. “But I know he’s isn’t a murderer.”
Wheeler held his gaze for a long moment. Matt stared back. After a beat, Wheeler smiled, then after a breath, he sighed, and straightening stood back on his heels, sliding his hands into the pockets of his windbreaker. Tilting his head, he studied Matt again, gaze assessing, probing.
“Was he that good to you, Matt?” Wheeler asked, again employing a gentle tone that made the hairs on the back of Matt’s neck stand up. “You’re still going to be loyal, even in the face of this?” A gesture was made in the direction of the badge.
Swallowing against the dryness of his mouth, Matt shrugged. “I’m not being loyal. I’m just not taking the word of an asshole that assaulted me, drugged me, and tied me to a fucking chair as fact.”
As Wheeler’s expression closed off, going blank, Matt smirked.
“Anyway, all you’ve shown me is a badge, and that may make Jonathan a liar, but that’s it. I mean, it’s not that hard to figure out if you think real hard about it,” he said, pushing as much condescension into his voice as possible.
Gaze narrowing, Wheeler favored Matt with a speculative look. “You’ve got a point, I suppose,” he said slowly. Letting out a breath, he tilted his head to one side and then the other, as if to work out tension there. “And I see what you’re trying to do, by the way.”
Focusing on staying relaxed and not giving in to the mounting urge to strain against his bonds, Matt asked, “And what’s that?”
“You’re trying to antagonize me. Provoke me,” Wheeler said, and taking a step closer, he continued. “You’re figuring that I know all the tricks. Is that it, Matt? Empathize with your kidnapper, get him to see you as a person, achieve a connection.”
Coming to a stop right in front of Matt’s chair, Wheeler said, “So you’re going for the next best thing. Distract me. Needle me. Make me angry.”
Feeling a bead of sweat trickle down his spine, Matt fought the urge to squirm. “Wow. You got me all figured out,” he said dully.
Wheeler rocked in place, and looking down said, “I’ll even bet you’ve guessed that I worked with Jonathan? That I’m an agent too, haven’t you?”
Matt tipped his head back, looking Wheeler in the eyes. “Oh, yeah, it’s the windbreaker that gave it away. And guess what, genius? I still don’t know any more about Jonathan, or his whereabouts, than I did five minutes ago, so you’re still shit outta luck.”
Wheeler chuckled, a rather unsettling sound, Matt thought.
“I think I see what Salvatore liked about you,” Wheeler said, raising a brow with a half smile on his lips.
“Gee. Thanks, I guess,” Matt offered flatly.
Wheeler laughed shortly and then replied, “You’re welcome, but we’ve gotten a little off track, haven’t we?”
With a sinking feeling, Matt fought to stay relaxed as much as possible, kept his breathing steady, and remained watchful for any possible advantages that might present itself.
“So,” Wheeler began, and drawing his hands from his jacket pockets, took a step closer. “Let’s just cut right to the chase.”
There was something held in the man’s left hand. Despite himself, Matt reacted, recoiled back against the back of the chair at the sight of a syringe held in Wheeler’s fist. The fine point of the needle looked to be about an inch long.
Heart pounding, Matt looked up, meeting Wheeler’s gaze. “Go to hell,” he spat.
“Already been, got the t-shirt to prove it,” Wheeler replied, and moving to stand at Matt’s side, brought the syringe up, holding it out in his opened palm. The barrel was over half filled with a yellowish liquid.
“I could hurt you, Matt,” Wheeler said evenly, sounding strangely thoughtful, his eyes on the syringe now as he brought it up; needle pointed at the ceiling. He gently thumped the syringe’s barrel. “But I’d rather not. So how about we do this instead?”
Pressing the plunger with his thumb, Wheeler forced a small amount of the liquid inside the barrel to push up through the fine, silver needle. The liquid made a quick arch in the air, and then dropped, spattering onto the stone tiled floor with barely a whisper.
“It’s been proven, well, mostly proven, that the implementation of physical violence or force generates somewhat questionable data, at times,” Wheeler offered, as if reeling off the information he’d learned from a text book by rote. “But I think we both know the quality of those results lies in the proper application of said force, don’t we?”
Understanding that there was little to nothing he could do to prevent the application of whatever methods Wheeler meant to apply, Matt decided to go for broke.
“I think you’re fucking certifiable, so spare me your psychobabble. Do whatever you’re gonna do and get it over with.”
Wheeler huffed a brief laugh, and reaching down began to loosen the cord wound tightly around Matt’s forearm.
“This is just a little something to relax you, make you a little more… forthcoming,” he said evenly. “It won’t hurt. In a couple hours you won’t even be able to tell it ever happened. I just need you to be a bit more cooperative, and this is the most efficient way.”
Matt gritted his teeth and looked away, fingers curling around the ends of the chair’s arm rests as Wheeler slid the needle under his skin. The minor prick developed into an uncomfortable sting as the drug was injected. Heart pounding, his coiled anger snapped and hissed at the injustice, and his fear of what came next sounded as white noise inside his head. As quickly as the sting had come, it dissipated as the needle was quickly removed.
It wasn’t until he felt the heavy hand on his shoulder that Matt could face Wheeler again. The man’s gaze searched his. Searching for what, Matt could only guess. Eventually, whatever it was Wheeler was looking for he either found, or gave up on finding it. Releasing a breath the man straightened and moved away, carefully placing the emptied syringe on the table at Matt’s right hand side.
“See? That wasn’t so bad,” Wheeler observed as he looked at his wristwatch. “Just be a few minutes now.”
Matt wanted to ask what was going to happen in a few minutes, but clamped his jaw shut. A shiver ran through him, though he didn’t feel cold. He swallowed, and let his body relax. Wheeler was going to be disappointed. He wanted Matt cooperative, he’d said, but what the man didn’t realize was that Matt truly didn’t know anything revealing when it came to Jonathan. In fact, Wheeler himself had provided more insight into Jon than Jon himself, and half of that was bullshit.
Matt chuckled to himself. What a shit show. He sighed, and let his head drop back to rest against the wooden back of the chair. His eyes felt heavy. A wild thought shot through him that maybe Wheeler had overdosed him? Lifting his head, he frowned, and looked down the long length of the dining table. The sunlight slanting in through the row of windows danced over its lacquered surface in a peculiar way, and Matt stared, mesmerized by the shimmering colors until he came to with a start, suddenly remembering he was tied to chair in a strange place, being held by a what might be a genuine lunatic.
Focus, dammit. Think of Jo. Hold onto your focus
Wheeler had moved to the far end near the fireplace, and was talking with someone, a broad chested, thick-necked man wearing brown slacks and a beige Members Only jacket. Matt blinked hard a few times. He hadn’t even noticed the new arrival. His vision cleared, the dancing sunlight subsiding into normal sunbeams. He bit down hard on the side of his cheek, and the little burst of pain seemed to reorder his scattered thoughts.
After another few seconds of conversation--Matt couldn’t discern any actual words, only the muffled sounds of the two men’s voices--Wheeler turned and started back his way. Thick-neck pivoted and left via the door next to the fireplace Matt had noticed earlier, leaving it slightly ajar behind him. Wheeler bypassed his own chair and came to Matt’s side. Hitching his hip, he leaned against the table and sat down on its lip, one leg dangling down.
Tilting his head, he observed Matt with interest. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
Matt considered the question; saw no reason not to answer. “Fine,” he replied.
“No headache?” Wheeler asked.
Matt shook his head. “Nope.”
“That’s good,” Wheeler said. “Matt, can you tell me who Jonathan Silva is to you?”
Matt nodded. “Sure. We dated a few months. I thought things were pretty serious, right up until he took off. I don’t know what we are now.”
Wheeler nodded. “So Jonathan was your lover?”
Again, Matt nodded. “Oh, yeah,” he said, smiling a little. “It was really good, I mean, for a while.” He frowned. “I mean, now I know a little more about why he disappeared, but back then, yeah, I kinda hated him for bailing on me.”
Why am I telling him this?
“That’s too bad. Jonathan should not have done that,” Wheeler said, then added, “But I’d like to talk about back when things were good between you two.”
Brushing aside his confusion, Matt said, “Sure.”
“When you were together, did Jon tell you anything about his job, or who he worked for?”
Matt thought for a moment. The phrasing of the question disqualified Jon’s mention of being involved with the mob from their morning meeting, so Matt replied, “He said he worked for Crystal River, the resort chain.”
Wheeler nodded. “Right. But back then, did he ever mention anyone else that he might have done work for?”
Again, Matt considered the question closely, and then shook his head. “Nope.”
“You’re sure?” Wheeler pressed.
“I’m sure,” Matt said.
“Matt,” Wheeler began, stopped for a beat, and then continued. “Did Jon ever give you anything for safekeeping? Something like a list of numbers? Anything like that?”
Opening his mouth to answer, Matt found himself hesitating.
“Matt?” Wheeler prodded. “You can tell me. It’s okay.”
Confusion danced across Matt’s thoughts like the sunlight on the table.
I don’t want to do this.
Focus. Jody. Jody’s gonna come.
Taking a breath, Matt felt a surety slide into place at the thought of his lion. He looked at Wheeler. “No, Jon never gave me anything like that, but man, when Jody finds out what you’ve done he’s gonna freak.”
Frowning, Wheeler’s chin tipped down and he looked hard at Matt. “Who is Jody, Matt? Is he connected to Jonathan?”
Matt scoffed. “Of course not.”
Leaning in, gaze fixed on Matt’s face, Wheeler pressed. “Who is Jody?”
Matt sighed, and all but slouched in the chair. He could really use a nap. The ropes really were most inconvenient, though he supposed he could put up with them a while longer. His flexed his fingers, working on getting the blood flowing back through them, and frowned as they tingled.
“Matt? Who is Jody?” Wheeler asked again.
Looking up, Matt smiled. He liked thinking about Jody. He’d almost forgotten Wheeler was there.
“Jody’s my boyfriend.”
Wheeler made a thoughtful noise, and pushed up from the table. He paced a few feet away, turned and came back, coming to a stop in front of Matt’s chair. He folded his arms over his chest, gazing at Matt for a long moment.
“Does Jody know anything about why Jonathan came back up here to see you?” Wheeler finally asked.
Matt shook his head, replying with a note of exasperation. “No, how could he? Jody doesn’t know Jon at all, and trusts him even less.”
Nodding thoughtfully, Wheeler said, “Let’s get back to you and Jonathan. You’re sure he never mentioned anything about some codes? Not even today when you saw him? A list of numbers, like account numbers? Anything like that?”
Matt considered for a long beat. Wheeler had asked several questions. “No, that doesn’t sound like anything he ever talked about or gave me.”
Matt hoped his answer satisfied Wheeler, as the conversation was frankly becoming boring. He’d much rather talk about Jody than whatever Wheeler was on about. He flexed his arms against his bonds restlessly. The chair wasn’t very comfortable, though as he fidgeted he found that his left hand was a littler freer than before, the cord wrapped around him having been loosened up a bit by Wheeler when he’d administered the shot.
Frowning, Matt recalled the prick and the sting as Wheeler had forced the drug into him. Jody wasn’t going to like that at all. Looking up at Wheeler, Matt considered the strange calm that had settled over him. He should be much more pissed off than he felt.
“How about we talk about the things Jonathan did give you,” Wheeler suggested.
Matt sighed, weary of the subject. “Okay.”
“Like what, exactly?” Wheeler asked.
“You mean, like what did Jon give me?” Matt wanted to know.
“Exactly, Matt. What did he give you?”
Matt thought back, and the more he considered the question, the less it seemed like any of Wheeler’s business.
“Nothing much,” he replied vaguely.
Tipping his head back, Wheeler sighed. “Come on, Matt. You were doing so well, think back carefully.”
“It was mostly dinners out, dates, stuff like that,” Matt said, a thread of annoyance running through his tone.
Wheeler soothed him. “That’s good. What about actual gifts?”
Gaze narrowing, Matt pinned Wheeler with a hard look. “Why do you need to know?”
Wheeler took a moment in answering. Unfolding his arms, he looked at his wristwatch again, and mumbled something Matt couldn’t quite make out. Something in the man’s stance changed then as he took a step closer, his broad shoulders squaring off, his arms going down at his sides, fingers clenched into fists.
“Because Jonathan stole something very valuable from me, Matt. And I need it back.”
Matt considered Wheeler’s reason, and found he cared very little for the man’s predicament.
“So? That’s not my problem,” he replied easily.
Expression tightening, Wheeler advanced another step. “But it is, Matt. Now answer the question. I know you want to.”
Matt frowned, thinking back to that time. “He bought me clothes sometimes, nice things, expensive things. He liked dressing me up, not that that’s any of your fucking business,” he replied, pushing a little petulance into his tone.
Matt felt heat rise over his face, and though Wheeler was right--Matt did want to answer his question-- something inside him was beginning to chafe and squirm. Something didn’t feel right.
“What else?” Wheeler prodded.
The image of the jade hawk rose in Matt’s mind, and the pressing need to share the information danced over his nerves, promising relief if only he’d give in. The need to comply had made his answers flow freely, but there was something about Wheeler now, something predatory about the way he was watching Matt, that made him clamp his mouth stubbornly shut.
“Matt?” Wheeler said evenly. “What are you thinking of? I can see there’s something you want to tell me.”
“I’m not sure,” Matt mumbled.
Why was it so hard to answer, where before it’d been so easy?
“Stop fighting it, kid. I don’t want to have to dose you again so soon. It’ll hurt if I do. You’re young, but I don’t know if your heart could withstand it, but I will if you make me, Matt.”
Matt curled his fingers back around the chair’s armrests. The wood beneath his palms felt good, felt solid and real. He concentrated on that feeling, even as the compulsion to obey unwound inside him. He pushed against the urge, and felt sweat break out over his skin. He shivered, and the gliding calm from before melted away, leaving a strange and confusing sensation, like an itch under his skin he couldn’t get to.
Matt looked away, shaking his head in denial. “I don’t know,” he said.
The touch to his hair startled him. His gaze darted up, and Wheeler was there, close, his fingers gentle as he smoothed Matt’s hair back from his temple.
“I know it’s hard,” Wheeler said softly. “But you’re doing so, so well, Matt.”
The praise activated a warm wash of satisfaction in Matt. He felt himself relaxing a little, felt some of his stubbornness drain away. Wheeler’s big hand drifted down, his palm a warm press against Matt’s cheek.
“I won’t hurt you, Matt, if you don’t make me. I promise. But you have to tell me what I need to know.”
“Um,” Matt said, the eagerness to submit warring with the unnerving, twitching warning that was mounting inside him.
“Come on, kid,” Wheeler encouraged.
“It was nothing,” Matt began, at a lost why the information was so important. “Just a hawk.”
Wheeler’s hand fell away, and Matt let out a relieved breath. He didn’t want the asshole touching him. He didn’t like it.
“A hawk?” Wheeler asked, genuinely confused.
“Yeah,” Matt said. “A figurine. A carving of a hawk. Like my last name? Hawkes.”
Wheeler blinked, thoughts turning inward. “Interesting.”
Matt watched as Wheeler retreated, taking a couple steps away. The warm sensation of the man’s touch lingered on Matt’s skin, and his body tightened in response. He felt queasy, and there had been something intimate and personal about it, about the way Wheeler had touched him. Only Jody got to touch him that way. It felt weird and wrong.
Focus.
Matt’s thought from earlier sounded through him, like a bell struck. He drew in a quick breath. He blinked, something clicking over inside him as the realization of what was being done to him snapped into focus. How had he lost the truth of that so easily?
“Where is the hawk now, Matt?” Wheeler asked, looking down with a new light in his eyes.
Focus.
“I packed it up someplace,” Matt said, lending particular concentration to his words. “I’m not sure precisely where it is right now.”
Both things were true. At one time, he had packed the hawk up. And currently, Matt wasn’t a hundred percent where the hawk lay. He knew it was either on his kitchen counter, or perched on the window sill. It’d traveled around his kitchen since Jody had discovered it in his pantry, just being moved from here to there until Matt decided what the hell to do with it.
Wheeler seemed to accept his answer, and the man turned away and stood seemingly lost in thought. Matt took a cleansing breath, watching Wheeler warily. A muted thrill of victory filtered down through the forced calm running through his veins.
Focus.
Jody.
Matt breathed a little easier, just thinking of his lover. Jody would come, Matt knew it. He was suddenly unshakably certain of it. Another breath and he felt stronger, steadier.
Matt could feel it. His lion was coming for him. A smile curved his lips.
“What are you smiling about?”
Matt lifted his head. It was Wheeler, standing once more by the table, one hand resting against its surface, head tilted toward Matt as if he’d momentarily forgotten he was there, lashed down to the furniture.
Happy to answer this question Matt said, “Jody is gonna kill you.”
Gaze narrowing, Wheeler raised a brow. “Is that a fact?”
Matt nodded, feeling very certain. “Oh, yeah.”
In the face of Matt’s blatant confidence, Wheeler’s mouth flattened out into a hard line. Reaching out, he picked up his pistol, making a show of thumbing off the safety before sliding it into a holster under his jacket. He faced Matt squarely, brown eyes hard.
“I’m not worried about your boyfriend, Matt.”
Still smiling, Matt lifted his chin. “I’ll remember you said that.”
****Additional Notes*****
Inching right along! I decided that Wheeler should do something other than beat the info out of Matt, so here we have the idea of the 'truth serum'. I don't doubt such things exist, though I doubt they work quite this way, I just tailored the results to fit my flow. I like the idea of Matt being stubborn enough to push against it, and naturally calling on his connection to Jody to help him through it. I think Wheeler would do just about anything to get what he needs, and his reasons why will eventually become apparent. It's not just Jonathan he wants, but what Jonathan knows is his goal. Next up we'll see how well Jody, Jon and Alex work together! If they can at all, ha!
*****
WARNINGS for: threat of violence, intimation, drugging