Title: Zero Hour
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Don Flack
Fandom: CSI: Vegas/CSI: NY
Table: 1, stories_a_z
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Don Flack, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.
***Greg hardly dared to look around him, not wanting to see anything more of where he was. He didn't know what part of the city he was in; all he knew was that the place was filthy, and it wasn't somewhere that he would want to die, if things came down to that.
He didn't know how long it would take Don to do what these men had demanded of him; they hadn't told him anything other than that his life depended on what his boyfriend did. But somehow, he didn't think that they would return him to Don easily.
He'd never been so terrified in his life -- not only for himself, but for Don, as well. He knew that these men were after his boyfriend, that they wanted to make Don suffer. And what better way to make someone suffer than to go after the people they cared about the most?
Closing his eyes, Greg tried to calm himself down, to hold on to the belief that Don would be here to save him. Don would do whatever these men were telling him to do, and he would find a way to get them both out of this. If anyone could make things right, Don could.
What would he do if Don't couldn't get him out of this? Greg trembled at the thought; he pushed that idea as far as from him as he could, refusing to contemplate it. He wasn't going to have to try to figure out a way to escape by himself. Don would show up. He had to.
Don wasn't going to leave him here, in these mens' hands, without trying his best to rescue him. Don would do whatever he had to do to get him out of here, even if it meant putting his own life at risk. That was what bothered Greg the most -- knowing that Don was so selfless.
Don would throw himself in front of a bullet to save him, Greg was sure of it. He hoped that it wouldn't come to that, but he didn't trust the men who were holding him captive to keep to their bargain with Don. They would find some way to try to kill both of them.
And Don would be alone and unprepared, Greg thought, feeling helpless and frustrated. He didn't dare try to do anything himself; he couldn't, even if he knew what to do. He was gagged, as well as bound hand and foot, and there was no way to wriggle free of his bonds.
All he could think of at the moment was that he would have to watch the man he loved gunned down, while he was helpless to do anything to stop the inevitable, or even warn Don of the danger. And then that gun would more than likely be turned on him.
Greg seriously doubted that either of them would survive this. He wanted to believe that Don could be the conquering hero and save him, as well as bringing the men who had done this to justice. But he knew that was something he shouldn't depend on.
If only he could do something, find some way to let Don know that this was a trap set for him! He shook his head, wishing that he could somehow dislodge the gag so that he could cry out to Don when he either saw his boyfriend or heard his voice. But it stayed firmly in place.
He couldn't give up, Greg told himself firmly. He might not be able to believe that Don could simply swoop in and make everything all right, but he could try to do something that would help his boyfriend. He wasn't going to simply lie here and wait to die.
But what could he do? His abductors had made sure that he couldn't cry out, and he was bound too tightly to be able to free his hands. There was nothing he could do to warn Don; he was just as much a pawn in this as his boyfriend was, helpless to do anything.
No, Don wasn't a pawn, he told himself resolutely. Don had dealt with situations like this before, he was sure -- but he had probably never been put in the position of having to rescue someone he loved. That was why he would throw caution to the winds.
Greg didn't want him to do that; if Don was too focused on him, then he might overlook the danger he was in and do something stupid. He could only hope that his lover was going to be cautious, and that he would find a way to disentangle them both from this knot they were trapped in.
He glanced at the clock on the wall, an icy shiver of fear running down his spine when he saw what time it was. It was nearly midnight -- the zero hour that these men had given Don for their rendezvous. Less than half an hour to go before it would all be over.
Would they leave him here while they went to meet Don and take charge of the man his boyfriend was getting out of prison for them, or would they take him along? Would they make an exchange -- or would he have nothing to look forward to but a quick death?
Worst of all, would they draw Don into a trap and kill him? That was what terrified Greg the most; he could deal with thoughts of his own death, as long as Don was safe. It was knowing that his boyfriend was in even greater danger than he was that made his blood run cold.
Don would find someone else if he was killed. He would grieve for a while, but he would move on. He wasn't the kind of man who would spend his lifetime wrapping himself in sorrow for what he'd lost. And he would know that Greg didn't want that for him.
But if he lost Don .... Greg couldn't see himself ever being with anyone else. Don was his first love, the only man he ever wanted to love. Even if there were other lovers in his future, without Don in his life, he knew that he would never fall in love again.
Closing his eyes, Greg swallowed hard behind the gag, praying that Don would have some kind of plan. Of course, he'd have one, he told himself firmly. Don wasn't just going to rush into this without being careful; he wouldn't simply jump in head first without assessing the situation.
But what could he do? These men were ruthless; the way they'd kidnapped Greg proved that. And he could tell that they weren't the kind of people who valued human life; he was sure that they would just as soon kill both himself and Don as they would look at them.
He couldn't do anything; he couldn't warn Don, and he couldn't get out of this situation by his own means. All he could do was hope for the best, and pray that his boyfriend had some kind of plan, some backup that would come to the rescue and ensure that both of them survived this.
Would Don be able to send him some kind of message that he could interpret if he needed to? He hoped so; he couldn't see any way out of this mess, but maybe Don could, and maybe his boyfriend would be relying on him to play his part in whatever he might have planned.
He could do that, Greg told himself, trying to marshal his courage. He could do whatever Don needed him to do. He'd do anything to make sure that they were both all right, that he was returned to his lover, and that neither one of them suffered any ill effects.
One of the his captors approached him, pulling him to his feet and pressing a gun into the small of his back. "Time to meet your boyfriend," he snarled into Greg's ear, his voice rough and hoarse. "If he does exactly what we tell him to, you'll be fine. If he don't -- well, then you've got a problem."
Greg refused to look at the man, knowing that his fear would show in his eyes. He wasn't going to give these bastards the satisfaction of knowing how terrified he was. Though they probably already had some idea of that, given that he couldn't stop his body's trembling.
His captor made his way to the door, half-dragging Greg behind him. Greg's muscles tightened as the door was opened; he was sure that Don was out there somewhere, waiting to confront these men. He just hoped that his boyfriend was prepared for whatever might happen.
Don would be prepared, he told himself, starting to feel frantic when he didn't immediately catch sight of his boyfriend outside of the warehouse he'd been held captive in. He would be here, and he would set a plan in motion that would end this situation without anyone getting hurt.
Would Don be able to do that? Or would he have come here alone, as he'd been told to, knowing that it would probably result in both of their deaths? Greg hoped that Don hadn't been so careless; Don was a cop, and he should know better than to rush into a situation without backup.
This was zero hour, he thought as he was dragged down a darkened alley. Either Don would be able to save him, or he would die here. They might both die here. Either way, there was nothing he could do about it. He just had to wait and see how this scene would play out.
He could only hope that Don knew what he was doing, and that there was more to what would happen in the next little while than the two of them winding up dead. This was the last scene of a play that he hadn't wanted to be in, and he hoped that it wouldn't end up being a tragedy.
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