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“They won’t get the pension anyway under the circumstances Charlie you know the drill. Give him up and face the court martial only chance you’ve got, your family will still draw on your salary.”
“Can’t do time sir, not after the Middle East.”
“So how’d this happen, Charlie?”
“MackInroth, and a man called Elsinger set this one up.” He nodded towards Connor who sat still on the cold floor rocking gently, he seemed unaware of his surroundings and Peter felt the tension coil in his gut.
“And they’ve booked leaving you the goat?” Peter theorized.
“Something like that.” Charlie looked down the muzzle of his gun drifting away from Connor to the floor as Peter looked out the small window at the armed response unit. Stanislav followed his gaze and within a heartbeat Peter pulled the gun from his waist and fired one shot. Charles Stanislav fell soundlessly to the floor, a look of complete disbelief on his face. Fresh hot blood sprayed Connor who began to keen softly at the smell of cordite and death.
Peter kicked the gun from the lifeless form and spoke into the comlink, “Man down, we need a stretcher team and a medic, the situation is secure.” He fumbled for the small earpiece and ripped it off in his frustration as he crouched down in front of Connor.
Peter reached a hand forward cupping Connor’s cheek in his palm. The skin was clammy and cold to the touch and Connor winced trying to pull back.
“Connor?” Peter spoke softly as MP’s removed the body of the dead officer and secured the house. Anton pushed in and meet Peter’s concerned gaze.
Connor rocked and wouldn’t look up. “Love please look at me.” Still the prone man hugged himself tighter and kept his eyes riveted on the floor. “Connor, breathe, come on love, see me.”
There was a small shudder and a choked gasp as Peter tilted the much-loved face up to his. Doyle blinked slowly, coming back by degrees. He wound his arms tighter about his body as the shivering increased and Matt wrapped a soft warm blanket around Connor’s shoulders and handed the ends to Peter who drew him forward into a gentle embrace.
“Peter?” The voice that issued somewhere from Axon’s chest was small and confused.
“Hey.” Peter closed his eyes and let his body warm that of his love, his fingers gently petting the dark hair as he held him closer. “Welcome back.”
Connor pushed away as his face contorted from the pain in his legs and reached forward with a trembling hand to touch Peter’s face.
“Thought you’d wigged out on me there.” Peter guided the smaller man to his feet and feeling him sway, swung him up into his arms and moved into the lounge, propping Conner on the soft cushions as Anton followed doggedly to examine his charge.
“Hurts.” Connor said softly as he gripped Peter more forcefully.
“I know.” Peter soothed gently as Anton inspected the wound on Connor’s skull.
“Superficial cut, the bleeding has stopped, but that’s one hell of a bump.” Anton smiled and Connor burrowed further into Peter’s solid chest away from the questing hands.
“Well done.” Colonel Williams smiled broadly from the doorway as he cleared his men from the house. “You ever want to come back Axon?”
“Don’t think so sir, the don’t ask don’t tell policy leaves me cold and I’ve hidden this long enough.” Peter kissed the top of the bowed head as his hands skinned the soiled shirt from Connor.
“Think you have too, son.” George responded and motioned to Matt to join him outside.
“Anton?” Peter asked as he felt Connor shiver again and laid him back against the soft cushions as Anton attached a blood pressure cuff and took a reading.
“BP is fine,” he moved the pen light over Connors eyes, “pupils are responsive. Connor?”
“Yes.” Connor’s voice was slightly slurred.
“Do you know where you are?” Anton asked.
Connor smiled and looked at Peter for the first time. “With my Peter.”
“And where is that?” Anton smiled.
“Area 51.”
“Today’s date is?”
“October the ninth.”
“Good. Do you feel nauseous?”
“No. Just a headache.”
“Blurred vision?”
“No.”
Anton moved down towards the blood soaked knees and pulled out a pair of scissors to cut away the cloth. Connor’s eyes never left Peter’s.
“You’ll need sutures at the least, some of these lacerations are deep, maybe a couple of stitches, but we need to get you cleaned up first.” The last was directed to Peter.
“Shower?” Peter pulled Connor to his feet supporting his weight against his side.
“Upstairs.” Matt answered. “You need a hand?”
Peter nodded, as Matt looped a long arm around Connor’s waist and Peter mirrored the action as they began the slow ascent upstairs.
“I seem to remember.” Peter teased gently when Connor got halfway up the stairs and sagged, “that the first time we had a shower together I had to watch the bruises then too.”
“D?j? vu.” Connor smiled.
“God I hope not, I don’t think my heart can take this again love.” Peter kissed him softly and urged him forward to the bathroom.
Storm dark eyes assessed the level of damage on the trim form, dark bruises fading to yellow and purple festooned the olive skin, ribs could be seen through the translucent skin, giving him a pallid air. Peter stripped the remainder of the soiled clothes from the abused flesh as Connor gripped the blanket around him and settled on the toilet and watched Peter adjust the spray of warm water in the shower.
“You’ll have to go in with him Peter, I don’t think he could stand on his own.” Matt smiled as he patted his shoulder. “I’ll get you some towels and the MP’s have brought your luggage into Connor’s room. It’s across the hall. Holler if you need help.” The door closed softly as Peter stripped and turned to see the dark eyes devouring him as he moved closer.
“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Connor closed his eyes as warm hands slid the blanket off his body. “Elsinger told me I’d let you down and that because of me you and Cooper died.” Tears streaked the tired features and Peter leaned in to kiss them away.
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