Missing

By Melanie

 

 

 

 

 

Thirty years ago – Norfolk, Virginia

 

The boy was curled into himself in the back seat, a picture of unhappiness and pain. He was almost glad he was out.

 

The boys near silent whimpering had caused him to hit him more than once, now he would have to wait until the bruises faded and every day he had to wait was money quickly vanishing.

 

He should have grabbed the girl instead, she’d seemed docile enough. But she hadn’t come to him, the boy had. Wanting to touch and pet the puppy lying at his feet. He’d smiled up at him with white teeth and a happy, sunny disposition.

 

The boy was probably about four but could pass for about three he decided. The buyers had wanted a boy or a girl about three.

 

The boy whimpered in his drugged sleep, curling tighter in on himself.

 

He clenched his hand into a fist and reminded himself that every day that he had to wait was money that he was losing that someone else could claim.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Today – New York City

 

They went through the archives once a year to clean them out and pack folders of cases gone cold into boxes that would be transported to the archives.

 

This was one part of his job that Danny Taylor didn’t like, he liked finding the people they were looking for, solving the cases.

 

Not packing the folders, the information, the leads into a box with a hope that someone else would be able to solve what they hadn’t been able to.

 

The folder in his hand was similar to every other folder he’d ever looked at.

 

It was dated, with the name M. J. Fitzgerald stenciled in fading black ink across the front of it. The name sounded familiar and when he flipped the folder open, curiosity getting the best of him and probably Sam was right and some day that was going to be the death of him he found a black and white picture of a young boy staring back up at him.

 

Bright, happy smile.

 

He leaned against a file cabinet flipping through the scant amount of details.

 

Four year-old Martin Jason Fitzgerald, kidnapped from a playground while under the care of his nanny.

 

Father Victor Fitzgerald and Danny realized with sudden shock why the name sounded familiar.

 

Victor Fitzgerald was the Assistant Director of the F.B.I. Although he’d just been a lowly agent when his son had disappeared.

 

This was his son, and Danny was half-way surprised that with the power that Victor Fitzgerald wielded like a baseball bat, that he didn’t have a special team in place just to look for his son.

 

If this had been his son…

 

Halfway down the second place he figured out why, bloody t-shirt that the boy had been wearing on the day of his disappearance had appeared two weeks later.

 

They’d never found a body, but every single shred of evidence indicated that the boy had probably been killed and no body would ever be recovered. It was a testament strictly to the Fitzgerald name (both mother and father) that the file had never actually been closed.

 

Would probably only be closed if a body surfaced for them to bury.

 

Victor Fitzgerald had been one of the smartest investigators in F.B.I. history, young men wanted to be him when they grew up, but he hadn’t even managed to locate his own son.

 

“What are you looking at?” Danny jumped and Sam Spade grinned impishly in response from the doorway.

 

“Cold case file,” he muttered. His heart still racing and Sam walked toward him. He could appreciate her grace even if he couldn’t appreciate her sex.

 

“The Martin Fitzgerald one,” she murmured as she saw the name and the picture.

 

Danny flipped through the rest of the folder. There was really nothing contained within it with the exception of the bloody t-shirt, and he was unsurprised that it had gone cold, even while he was surprised that it had been allowed to go cold what with who the missing boys father was.

 

He closed the folder and wondered if the boy was alive or if he had been killed at the young age of four.

 

He wondered if Victor Fitzgerald still looked for him even with a bloody t-shirt screaming that the boy had been victim of foul play.

 

He wondered if he had the same name, then decided that he wouldn’t because that would have been the first thing the kidnappers would have changed.

 

Name, appearances.

 

He had probably been Jason Smith by the time his kidnappers were done with him, probably had anything that he remembered of his family and his life beaten out of him and that was if he was even still alive.

 

He thought about his own Martin, safe in his little office uptown. Probably annoying a secretary and playing solitaire on his computer because they weren’t even close to tax season and he was bored out of his mind but would refuse to leave early, ‘because it’s the principle of the thing Danny, if we force the secretaries to stay than we should have to as well’.

 

Martin was a do-gooder even when the do-gooding was making sure his secretary had inane stuff to type up and someone to annoy her.

 

He touched his pocket, the familiar weight of his cell phone within it. He’d call him at lunch, maybe if they hadn’t gotten a case by then Danny would sneak out early and if he showed up at the office Martin wouldn’t be able to say no to him.

 

They could go to a movie, or they could walk in the park. Or they could go home and curl up on the sofa and watch some old black and white movie on A&E.

 

Martin loved those movies, loved that channel, and Danny loved him so he put up with it even though they had all those movies on DVD and it seemed kind of stupid to watch them on network TV when they could just pop a disc and watch it with no interruptions unless they made their own.

 

Danny smiled softly to himself, Sam snickered and Danny realized that he’d forgotten about her. Sam was used to that though and when he looked up she had her own soft smile on her face.

 

“Did you need something?” Danny arched a brow at her.

 

“Jack wanted me to get you, we have a case. Missing four year old boy, he was snatched from a park about two hours ago, his nanny called it,” Danny froze in the act of sliding the M.J. Fitzgerald folder into the cold case box.

 

He stared at the folder. Four year old snatched from a park and his nanny. Four year old snatched from a park and his nanny.

 

There was a 29 year gap between them; it couldn’t be a coincidence… could it?

 

******************************************************************************

 

Martin Scott let himself into the tiny two bedroom apartment with a sigh. He pulled at the tie around his neck and sighed even louder.

 

There was no one to hear him.

 

Danny had called at lunch, with news of a case; a missing four year old boy.

 

And they had been together long enough that Martin knew how this worked, though it had taken him a number of years and a three day tantrum where he’d moved out, to get it.

 

In normal day to day operations Martin came first, but when there was a case, especially a case with a child… well then the case came first and Martin was expected to understand that.

 

It had taken him a while, but he’d finally gotten it.

 

He could be blasé about it now, even as he grumbled inwardly at the thought of having to sleep alone (because Danny and his team would work and work until they either passed out from exhaustion at their desks or they finished the case, whichever came first) and he hated sleeping alone. Couldn’t really, he’d doze on the couch or the bed but he didn’t really sleep unless Danny was there.

 

It was some leftover remnant from his childhood he was sure.

 

The two psychiatrists that he’d seen, one when he was a teen and his parents were freaking out over the fact that he couldn’t sleep at night and the other during college when he was freaking himself out because he couldn’t sleep, had insisted that there was obviously something in his childhood that had started it.

 

The both tried hypnosis with little to no success and then they’d given him sleeping pills which Martin didn’t take because he didn’t care for the way they made him feel.

 

He’d resigned himself to not sleeping or sleeping the maximum of two hours at a time and then he’d met Danny and he could suddenly sleep the whole night through and he’d proposed marriage after their first night together.

 

Danny had laughed at him, thought him joking. But Martin had been totally serious and he’d done everything within his power to keep Danny with him.

 

He stretched, and noticed the blinking message light on the answering machine. He pressed the play button and shed his coat, winding his tie around his hand.

 

At first there was nothing, a slight whistling sound on the other end and then someone speaking low and fast, voice angry and hard.

 

Martin froze.

 

He knew that voice, the harsh words and he had a brief moment of where his vision cleared and he was a child and a young man had his hand over his mouth and was squeezing him tightly muttering under his breath that if he didn’t shut up he’d kill him.

 

The same young man shook him, hit him, told him to shut the fuck up as he cried for his parents and his sister.

 

Martin didn’t move, just stood there staring at the machine long after the message had ended. He should pick it up; take it to Danny or the police.

 

But what would he say...

 

‘I got this phone call and it freaked me out and I thought I might have been kidnapped as a child?’

 

They would have him committed, Danny would leave him because he thought Martin nuts sometimes but usually Martin could blame it on the idiots that chose to do their own taxes then tried to take deductions that weren’t legal for them forcing Martin to have to work extra hard to keep them from having to pay their life savings in fines.

 

If Danny thought that he might actually be insane he wouldn’t even bother packing. He would just buy new clothes for his new apartment, in a new city far away from Martin.

 

And that was unacceptable.

 

He stared at the machine, sitting there innocently like it hadn’t just tried to shatter Martin’s life into tiny little pieces.

 

He wanted to throw it against the wall and watch it shatter. But then Danny would ask questions and Martin wouldn’t have any answers.

 

At least none that he could share.

 

Finally he walked way, shut off the light and walked into the bedroom. Tossing his coat and his tie into the wooden rocking chair that they’d bought at an estate sale the first year they’d been together. He sat down on the edge of the bed and then laid back, closed his eyes.

 

He wouldn’t sleep but if he could just stop thinking maybe he would figure out what he needed to do.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Martin was curled up in a tight ball that didn’t look at all comfortable when Danny managed to make it home.

 

Dressed in a pair of ragged sweat pants that at one point used to belong to Danny and a t-shirt that, unless Danny missed his guess, had also at one point been his.

 

He knew without even seeing them that there were thick, warm socks on his feet because Martin’s feet were always cold.

 

Wrapped around him was the quilt that they’d picked up during a drive through Pennsylvania years ago.

 

He looked warm and peaceful, but Danny knew that the only reason that Martin was even sleeping was because everything, from the ragged sweats and the t-shirt that had definitely seen better days, to the quilt that they’d wrap around them when they napped on the couch on Sunday’s, all those items smelled like Danny.

 

Martin had tricked his subconscious mind into thinking that Danny was right there and that had allowed him to sleep.

 

Danny sat on the end table, pulled his tie off and dropping it next to him leaned over to run gentle fingers over Martin’s face.

 

His Martin was safe, untouched. Unlike the M.J. Fitzgerald that was either dead or missing, still, after so many years or the young Peter Renfer that they still hadn’t found any sign of even after 24 hours.

 

Martin’s eyes fluttered and he was suddenly awake and staring at Danny, a smile on his lips and happiness lighting his still sleepy eyes and Danny leaned down to kiss him.

 

Because this was his Martin and he loved every part of Martin, but he really loved how happy Martin looked at seeing him.

 

Martin’s eyes asked the question and Danny shook his head sadly and Martin lifted the edge of the quilt, waiting for Danny to toe off his shoes and shrug out of his coat and climbed into Martin’s cocoon with him.

 

He let Martin run strong hands down his back and side, molded his body to Martin’s sleep warm one, closed his eyes and sighed.

 

Martin kissed his eyes, his nose, both cheeks. Like the little butterfly kisses that Danny remembered in the memories (dreams) he had of his mother.

 

Those memories (dreams) allowed him to remember a time when he was safe and warm and loved, before it had all been shot to hell.

 

He’d been cold before he met Martin, hadn’t felt safe or warm or loved in the years after his parents deaths.

 

But the moment that Martin had burst into his life with a bright smile and quick wit that had all changed. Because Martin knew absolutely nothing about Danny’s past besides the fact that his parents were dead and his brother was in jail and he knew enough without even being told that there were just some things that Danny wouldn’t (couldn’t) tell him about it.

 

He’d never asked the questions that Danny wouldn’t answer (why don’t you drink, why don’t you visit your brother) he’d just accepted and loved Danny just for himself

 

It probably hadn’t hurt that Martin suffered from some odd form of insomnia and hadn’t had a good nights sleep in all the years before he’d met and fell in love with Danny.

 

Martin was murmuring indistinctly against his skin now, calm words that had no meaning but were soothing nonetheless, arms wrapped tightly around him, keeping him safe.

 

Grounding him in his presence and his love, offering silent support that Danny accepted gratefully.

 

Victor Fitzgerald would appear in their office soon, Danny had offered the M.J. Fitzgerald folder to Jack silently and Jack had perused it just as silently and then he’d walked away and made phone calls.

 

And now Deputy Director Victor Fitzgerald would be appearing on their doorstep, with his own team of agents to ‘assist’ them with their investigation.

 

Danny had to wonder if the man thought his son was still alive, if that was why Victor Fitzgerald was jumping on a plane to fly back from wherever he’d been in Italy.

 

His son would be about 34 now. A grown man if he was still alive, probably with a wife and children and a whole life that his parents and his sister had not been at all involved in.

 

If he was alive, if he was found… Danny wondered how he would react to the family that he’d been stolen from.

 

If he would even accept them as his own.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Martin was cooking breakfast for him, Danny sat perched in his chair waiting for the moment where he would have to intercede. He wouldn’t say that Martin was inept in the kitchen but there had been the two fires and if Danny hadn’t been there Martin might have burnt their apartment building down.

 

Martin was good at a great many things, anything in the kitchen with the possible exception of the coffee maker (Martin made absurdly good coffee, Danny usually took a thermos to the office) he just couldn’t operate.

 

But he kept trying, determined that he was going to master the kitchen. Danny had just begged him to order takeout if Danny wasn’t going to be home… because he kind of wanted an apartment and a lover to come home to.

 

Danny admired Martin’s perseverance, even as he bought and kept a fire extinguisher ready at all times because there was no telling when he was going to actually need it.

 

“I need to fly out to Washington for a few days,” Martin was saying when Danny focused on him again, Danny frowned. Which had no effect on Martin because he had his back to him.

 

“Family stuff going on, I’ll be back on Friday,” Martin continued on blithely unaware that Danny was scowling.

 

Martin hated it when Danny went out of town, whined and complained; he never seemed to realize that Danny hated it just as much when Martin was the one leaving the city… he just didn’t whine about it.

 

He despised those moments when Martin would go home for a few days and leave Danny all alone in their apartment.

 

He was only slightly placated by the fact that Martin normally scheduled his visits when Danny had a case and would seemingly be too distracted to notice that Martin wasn’t there.

 

Martin sometimes made impromptu visits home.

 

Martin turned, a bright pleased smile on his face and Danny was somewhat shocked to see scrambled eggs that looked perfectly done and bacon that looked to be just the right amount of crispy on the plates in his hand.

 

Danny eyed him suspiciously. Had Martin been taking a cooking class that he’d neglected to tell him about?

 

The toaster buzzed and ejected the toast, golden brown and Danny wondered if he was still sleeping on the couch, wrapped up in Martin and their quilt.

 

“Are you bribing me with food?” Danny asked, he looked from plate to plate and then back to Martin who looked slightly confused. So he clarified.

 

“So I won’t bitch about the fact that you’re going away.”

 

“I’ve been practicing.” Martin still sounded all sorts of pleased. And since Danny remembered a time when leaving Martin alone in the kitchen meant a phone call to 911 and the Fire Department (and the guys there had been on a first name basis with them for a while, which led Danny to realize that he hadn’t actually had to call them in a bit because normally they invited him to play basketball and he’d not played for weeks at least) Danny thought he might have a reason to be proud.

 

“My mom sent me the family recipe for Macaroni and Cheese…” Martin mumbled as he shoveled food into his mouth like it was his last meal.

 

“Let’s not get carried away.”

 

Martin grinned. “I’ll let you supervise.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

Danny didn’t go to the airport with Martin. He’d had every intention in doing so, he couldn’t go to his gate with him but he could go as far as security and kiss Martin goodbye before he went though the checkpoint and got on his plane and left Danny alone for anywhere from two to seven days.

 

He hadn’t been sure when Danny had asked how long he would be gone. Which wasn’t unusual but still made Danny slightly uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure why.

 

Victor Fitzgerald was on his way into the office. Danny had gotten the call as he was helping Martin do dishes and contemplating whether or not Martin would let him fuck him in the kitchen.

 

The last time he’d let him they’d broke the kitchen table, Danny blamed faulty engineering. Martin had been on the bottom though and ended up with bruises that made in uncomfortable to sit for days, Danny had thought it a bit excessive but Martin had still put the moratorium on kitchen sex and would only allow Danny to seduce him in the living room, the bedroom and the bathroom.

 

And sometimes by the front door but only if they knew there was no one on the other side.

 

Martin could be kind of a prude sometimes.

 

So now he was sitting at his desk, bouncing a pen against his pad of paper as they waited for Victor Fitzgerald to arrive, all he could think was that he could be at the airport kissing Martin within an inch of his life and convincing him to not leave the City.

 

Sam rolled her chair the short expanse and joined her tapping pen to Danny’s. It was like a little band they had going.

 

They heard Victor Fitzgerald long before they saw him, pens stilling as they listened to his booming voice.

 

He sounded angry and Danny winced.

 

It had been his idea, he was the one that had thought that the old M.J. Fitzgerald case was linked to the new Peter Renfer case.

 

And Jack wouldn’t give him up, wouldn’t let the wolves get him. But he could make his life a living hell if he so chose.

 

Victor came into view, Jack and a man that was obviously with him following in his wake. Danny had met him once before, he still went with his first assessment.

 

Victor Fitzgerald was a force of nature.

 

And wherever his son was he was one as well.

 

******************************************************************************

 

The house was quiet when the cab that Martin had hired pulled up.

 

It wasn’t surprising, his mom worked until five, his father until six on a good day.

 

Martin handed over thirty, waved his hand when the cab driver offered change. Opened the door, collected his bags and stepped out.

 

The cab pulled away as he stood there. Staring at his childhood home. He felt strangely disconnected.

 

‘He’s a troubled child I don’t know what you hope to accomplish by this.’

 

‘That’s just it, he’s a child. He deserves a chance to have a normal life.’

 

His parents’ voices, he remembered them. They were the first real memory that he had from his childhood.

 

The rest of it, any time before he hit five was just blank. A traumatic event of some sort both of his psychiatrists had offered. They hadn’t been able to tell him what kind of traumatic event, just that there had been one.

 

Martin bowed his head.

 

‘God damn it, come back here you little sonofabitch.’ A mans voice, swearing and it sounded so real that Martin looked around expecting to see someone.

 

But there was no one. It was only one and the street was deserted.

 

He hefted his bags and walked up the steps, shuffling the bags around when he reached the door so he could fumble through his pocket for keys.

 

He still kept his house key on his key ring even though he hadn’t lived at home in a number of years.

 

He fought with the door for long minutes, the lock was tricky and you had to turn the key just right and twist the door handle in clockwise then counterclockwise before it would allow the door to open.

 

When he was finally in he dropped his bags, pushed the door closed behind him and leaned against it closing his eyes.

 

It smelled like home. The cinnamon potpourri that his mother insisted on putting in every room of the house, with just the scent of home.

 

He felt safe here in this house in a way that he didn’t feel in New York unless Danny was standing right next to him.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Danny sat across from Victor Fitzgerald and didn’t fidget. He wanted to, he wanted to ask the man why he had commandeered Jack’s office, why he’d pulled Danny into it, closed the door and then not said anything to him.

 

Part of the not saying anything thing might have been because he had his sons file and the Renfer file sitting side by side and seemed to be comparing them.

 

Line for line, word for word.

 

“They were both taken from a park,” Victor’s voice was softer than Danny had expected. Maybe it was because this was a piece of his son that he was looking at, the one and only possibility to either find him or bring his killer/kidnapper to justice.

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Though parks in different cities, the MO remains similar. Martin was with his nanny and the Renfer boy was being watched by a young babysitter. No parents around, busy area… very easy for the someone that you pay to care for your children to lose sight of them momentarily.”

 

Danny nodded, Victor still hadn’t looked up and he wondered if possibly Victor was just talking to himself, musing over the facts of the case while he got them straight in his head.

 

“They were both four,” Victor looked up and Danny almost winced at the pain in those dark eyes. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Victor Fitzgerald look anything but stoic and sort of mean.

 

“Yes sir,” Danny said softly.

 

“Just children,” Victor stared at him, eyes seeming to bore through him into the wall behind him. Like he was seeing something other than Danny sitting in the chair. “Children that young should be with their mothers.”

 

Danny didn’t agree or disagree. He wasn’t sure what the appropriate thing to say would be in this instance.

 

Because none of those manner books that Martin periodically recited to him had anything that he could remember on how to deal with a still grieving father that hadn’t managed to let go of his possibly dead son even after thirty years had passed.

 

“Do you have children Agent Taylor?”

 

“No sir.”

 

“A wife, a girlfriend, a lover?” Danny narrowed his eyes because he had never hid what he was so he wasn’t about to begin now even if it felt like Victor Fitzgerald was testing him.

 

“I have a partner,” Victor’s eyes widened imperceptibly, Danny hadn’t thought it possible that there was anyone that worked for the FBI that hadn’t known that he was in a relationship with a man, it had caused a huge hullabaloo when he’d declared Martin his emergency contact and forced the issue enough with his medical coverage to ensure that Martin would be covered if something (god forbid) should happen.

 

“How would you feel if he went missing?”

 

“I’d probably go insane, and then do everything within my power to find him.”

 

“Multiply that by 1,000,000, that’s how I felt when my only son didn’t come home from a park that he visited every single day.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

Martin woke to a warm hand brushing across his forehead. He could hear the low murmur of the television still playing. Could faintly smell the hand lotion that his mother always wore without fail.

 

“I thought you weren’t coming for another few days,” his mother smiled down at him. Expression warm and loving and he had never had any doubt that his mother loved him endlessly.

 

That’s what mothers did, wasn’t it? Love their children. Devoted their time and energy and themselves to making sure they grew up healthy and happy and most of all strong.

 

“Where’s dad?” he glanced at his watch, he’d slept less than an hour. It would tide him over until he could wrap himself up in the sweats of Danny’s that he’d appropriated for this visit.

 

“He’ll be home shortly, I’ll call and tell him to pick something up for dinner,” she rubbed at the lines on his forehead. Like her gentle touch could dissolve them and make him the carefree child that he’d never been.

 

“Italian?”

 

She laughed softly and Martin smiled, relaxing even though he hadn’t thought he’d been tense. “I’ll have him stop at Papa Sicily’s.”

 

When she walked out of the room Martin sat up, the blanket falling into a pile on the couch beside him. He stretched and stood.

 

Fumbled for the remote and turned the TV off.

 

He could hear his mothers’ low voice, either talking to his father or leaving a message with his fathers’ secretary.

 

He walked slowly to the stairs; his room was on the second floor.

 

His parents’ room right next to his, if his mother’d had a choice she would probably have slept in his room with him.

 

The two seconds that it had taken her to get to him when he’d had his nightmares had been to long in her mind he was sure.

 

He’d had horrible nightmares as a child.

 

Nightmares of a man hitting him, of that same man screaming at him to shut up.

 

He had nightmares of biting that same man on the arm and fleeing as fast as his little legs would carry him, ending up in the middle of a street, with car horns honking at him and Martin had been almost twelve before he could even cross the intersection at 15^th and Colonial without breaking out into a cold sweat.

 

He’d always known that his parents weren’t actually his parents, but they’d loved him and supported him and had held him while he cried and made sure he got whatever help he needed and would accept and that’s what parents did.

 

He’d never told Danny that. Never told him that he was adopted, that from the way his nightmares played out it seemed his biological parent had been as abusive as Martin suspected that Danny’s had been.

 

He couldn’t remember his real mother, sometimes when he managed to sleep he thought he could see her, could smell her.

 

But then when he woke that fleeting memory vanished and he could no longer access it.

 

He thought she might be dead, that the father that had hit him and yelled at him to stop crying, had killed her and the sister that he still thought was a figment of his imagination.

 

He opened the door to his room slowly, hazy sunlight peeking through the large windows.

 

It was getting late and he glanced at his watch and wondered if Danny would still be at work or if he would have made it home by now.

 

******************************************************************************

 

“So what are our next steps?” Jack asked.

 

Danny tapped his pen against his pad of paper, next to him Sam was on what had to have been her twelfth cup of coffee since Danny had started counting, and she looked as if she was going to bounce of the ceiling if someone so much as sneezed at her.

 

Danny wasn’t much better, though he’d stopped drinking the coffee when it had taken him two minutes to grab onto his pen to write down his messages.

 

“There’s a woman at Quantico, Catherine Delvin. She’s done some amazing work with computer enhancement of missing children photos. I’ve already given her a copy of Martin’s,” Danny wondered if he would ever stop flinching when Victor said his sons’ name. “She’ll be here tomorrow morning to show us what she’s come up with.”

 

“I think we’ve used her software before,” Viv mused. “It takes into account the parents and siblings as well as dominant genetic traits.”

 

“Yes,” Victor nodded. “She’s also an old family friend. She’s doing this as a personal favor to me.”

 

The table was silent, Danny’s pen tapping out an erratic rhythm the only sound.

 

“Until Ms. Devlin arrives then, why don’t we take a break,” Jack said. Victor looked up and opened his mouth as if to disagree then shook his head and obviously changed his mind.

 

Danny breathed a sigh of relief. He had a feeling that if Victor Fitzgerald had his way they would all be chained to their desks until this case was solved and Peter Renfer and his son were home safe and sound.

 

Victor finally nodded his head in acquiescence and Danny stood. Shoving a folder that he wanted to look over and grabbing his cellphone from the charger on his desk.

 

He thumbed it open, noticed that he’d missed one call. Smiling when he realized that it had been Martin, probably calling to tell him that he’d made it to Washington in one piece and that he loved and missed him.

 

He’d listen to his voice mail when he got home and then he’d call Martin back and if he got really lucky he might be able to convince Martin to go into the bathroom, run some water and engage in phone sex with him.

 

It had been a number of years since he’d managed to do that.

 

Martin could be a prude sometimes, especially when he was under his parents roof. Danny had taken it upon himself to totally demolish any and all instances of Martin’s prudishness.

 

It was his mission in life and sometimes the only enjoyment that he got.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Martin rolled onto his side, one arm under his head the other laying out in front of him, resting on top of his totally not ringing cellphone.

 

He could smell Danny all around him, but it still wasn’t helping him fall asleep. He really wanted to talk to Danny. Listen to him tell him mindless things about his day.

 

‘God damn it, come back here you little sonofabitch.’

 

He sighed, pulled the quilt around him tighter and wondered how pissed Danny would be when he realized that Martin had taken it with him.

 

The phone vibrated under his hand and Martin smiled. A quick, happy one and he flipped it open and pressed the buttons and there was Danny.

 

“You took our quilt with you,” Danny’s voice was accusatory, but not angry. He sounded amused more than anything.

 

“It smelled like you,” Martin said softly. His parents room was right on the other side of his and they both worked early in the morning and even though Martin was a grown up now he still thought his dad might ground him if he knew how late Martin had been up.

 

“Hmph,” Danny grumbled. Martin grinned. “I had this grand plan to come home, get naked, wrap myself up in that quilt and then call and convince you to have phone sex with me. Obviously that plan is shot all to hell now.”

 

“Yes, and not only because my parents are like three feet away and probably awake listening to me talk to you right now.”

 

“Well I was going to make you go into the bathroom and run a bath to muffle the noise.”

 

“It’s like three in the morning; don’t you think that would look a little odd?”

 

“Well you’d have to be the one explaining it to your parents so I kind of wasn’t worrying about that end of it.”

 

Martin rolled his eyes.

 

“I love you.”

 

“Love you too,” Danny sounded amused and happy and carefree. Martin suddenly wished that he was home with every fiber of his being.

 

“Tell me about your day.”

 

“Well one of the big bosses is here, came in for this new case that we’re working on. It might be connected to a case from a while ago.”

 

And there was Danny for you, “Well that was very vague.”

 

“Well it’s on-going so…”

 

“Then don’t talk about it,” Martin hadn’t been a pseudo-spouse to an FBI Agent for years without learning a bit of what Danny could talk about and couldn’t talk about when a case was still open. “Tell me something inane and stupid.”

 

“Sam is probably crawling the walls of her apartment. She had like thirty cups of coffee today. Jack looked like he wanted to cry when the big guy walked in and Viv said that you should have called her before you left. She wants you to bring back cheese?” The last said with a bit of a question and Martin laughed.

 

“Tell Vivian that I will bring her cheese back with me. I miss you.”

 

“Then come home, I’ll meet you at the airport, if you take the red-eye you’ll be here by dinner.”

 

“It’ll only be a couple of days,” Martin promised. “And I’ll call you every one of them.”

 

“You better. Because if you don’t I’ll be coming out there to drag you home with me and I’m not above using handcuffs and force.”

 

“I look forward to you explaining that to my parents, it should be amusing.”

 

“They’d understand, they love me best you know.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

Danny rolled his shoulders, twisted his neck and winced at the crack he heard.

 

He’d slept on the couch; he hated sleeping in the bed by himself. Because if he slept in it, then he reached across it and when his hand didn’t land on Martin’s sleep-warmed body it just served to remind him that he was sleeping alone.

 

And that meant that it was either tax season or Martin was out of town.

 

“She’s here,” Sam murmured as she walked past him, taking a seat at the table. Danny pulled his notepad toward him, pen in hand and wheeled his chair over.

 

Catherine Delvin was about Victor’s age, hair tight in a bun though her face was warm and smiling. Especially as she looked at Victor.

 

The two were obviously friends of some sort, which kind of surprised Danny. Victor Fitzgerald didn’t seem to be the type of man that would have friends; acquaintances maybe. Enemies definitely.

 

But friends.

 

But Catherine Delvin smiled at him, called him Vic absently as she pulled papers from her bag. Vivian took her seat next to Sam, Jack in one on the other side Danny.

 

“I managed to come up with three composites based on the genetic history that Victor supplied for me. All three composites are similar in composition which should narrow our search down considerably. I had it loaded into the computers in Quantico prior to leaving, it didn’t turn up any hits but they still have a number of databases to go through.”

 

She laid the pictures out one at a time and next to him Sam jerked in shock. Danny’s eyes widened and Jack’s hand gripped his arm. His chest hurt and he realized that he wasn’t breathing.

 

“Oh my dear lord,” Vivian crossed herself and Danny wanted to fling himself out of his chair and rip the photos into shreds.

 

“Martin.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

Martin had loved his bedroom growing up.

 

To a young boy it had been the perfect place, the perfect refuge.

 

His parents had allowed him to hang whatever he wanted on the walls, his mother had handed him the tacks when he’d bought posters and waved his father away when he’d muttered about holes and decreased property value.

 

He’d had his own record player and his own little 13” TV that he’d got from his parents on his sixteenth birthday in lieu of the car that he’d swore that he didn’t want.

 

His favorite part about his room though was the fact that when the sun rose it creeped across the floor inch by inch and tickled him awake.

 

He’d loved that on weekends. Being woke by the sun, feeling it’s warmth against his skin. It made him smile still.

 

He rolled over, his cell phone lay by his pillow and he stared at the ceiling and grinned. They’d talked for hours, quiet murmurs and they’d both been yawning by the time they’d hung up, ‘I love you’s’ falling from their lips.

 

Danny would sleep on the couch Martin knew, he hated sleeping in the bed when Martin wasn’t there and he didn’t blame him.

 

If Danny had been the one taken away from him on business he would have been curled up on the couch under the quilt waiting for him to return.

 

Of course Martin had the quilt with him and he pulled it to his nose and breathed deeply.

 

And smiled.

 

A knock at his door and his mother peaked her head in, he glanced over at the clock on his bedside table.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

 

“I have vacation saved,” Jackie Scott grinned.

 

“You shouldn’t waste it on me,” Martin shook his head, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. He weighed the pros and cons of showering before he ran or waiting until after he got back.

 

“And who else am I going to waste it on? Your father?”

 

“You guys should take a vacation together,” Martin smiled; he could make it a Christmas present. His mom had wanted to go back to Italy for years and it would probably be more fun for them then it had been when they were riding herd on a nine-year-old boy prone to hyper activity.

 

“We would, but I don’t think I could listen to  your father complain about how the company is going to fall apart around him without killing him and you would probably be very upset if I had to go to jail for that.”

 

“Justifiable homicide mom,” Martin said solemnly. “You would totally have me on your side, besides I love you best.”

 

“I heard that,” Paul Scott leaned in the doorway a smile on his face. He glanced at his watch. “If you want to run before it gets to much warmer you should go now, either that or you can wait until tonight.”

 

Martin pushed back his covers, hands lingering on the quilt.

 

“I’m going now, you want to come with?” he asked his dad.

 

“I’ll get all the exercise I need when I kick your butt on the racquetball court later.”

 

“Jeez dad, someone would think you were competitive or something.”

 

“I have to be thankful that I can still beat you at something, couple more years and you’d have to push me out in a wheelchair.”

 

“And you’d insist on a handicap and still kick my butt,” Martin grinned.

 

He touched his phone and looked at the clock. Danny would already be at work he decided. He would call him at lunch.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Danny wanted to scream. As it was he took a deep breath and tried Martin’s cell phone again.

 

He could feel Victor Fitzgerald’s eyes boring into him, could feel the activity going on all around them even as he felt somewhat displaced from it.

 

On his desk one of Catherine Delvin’s composite photo’s sat. Next to it the picture that Martin’s mother and Danny closed his eyes.

 

How was he ever going to explain to Jackie Scott how he had managed to destroy her family in one fell swoop?

 

Then he reminded himself that Jackie Scott wasn’t Martin’s mother, at least not his birth mother and he had no idea if Martin even knew that.

 

And how the hell was he supposed to tell him any of this.

 

Knew that the parents that he’d grown up with weren’t his by blood.

 

And how the hell was Danny supposed to tell him.

 

Jack was calling the police in Washington, probably about the time that Danny finally got Martin on the phone the police would be showing up on the Scott’s doorstep.

 

They were scheduled on the next plane out, leaving in just a few hours and if it hadn’t been for Victor Danny would have had Jack convinced to wait until they could be there to explain what was going on instead of having uniforms descending on them like Jackie and Paul had done something wrong when all they had done was raise a young boy and love him as if he was their own.

 

Danny hoped they weren’t involved in this. Hoped with everything that he was because Martin would never forgive him.

 

“Hello?” a female voice, not Martin and Danny almost wanted to cry.

 

“Jackie?”

 

“Danny,” her voice was warm and Danny remembered that this woman had welcomed him into her family with open arms because her son loved him.

 

“Jackie,” he closed his eyes and tried to keep his voice calm and even. Nothing wrong here, nothing to see. “Is Martin right there?”

 

“He went out for a jog, he should be back in a little bit,” he could hear her moving around and he could hear the knock at door and suddenly Paul’s raised voice.

 

“Paul what’s going on?” Jackie sounded scared, confused and Danny pressed a hand against his mouth to keep from screaming.

 

******************************************************************************

 

He normally ran two miles at home, down from his usual three and Danny had called him a wimp for dropping the extra mile but it also served to allow for an extra half hour of cuddle time so Martin didn’t take him to seriously.

 

He was doing three today though, running a path that he’d run when he was a teen-ager, he knew it like the back of his hand. Could probably run it blind folded though he wouldn’t ever do that and he would never mention the thought to Danny.

 

Because if he mentioned it to Danny then Danny would dare him to do it and then Martin would end up falling into a ravine and breaking both legs and they’d have to go something like six months with no sex.

 

He was just starting to feel the pleasant ache in his muscles, when he saw the man. Standing directly in his path and Martin slowed because the path wasn’t near wide enough for him to just jog around him, there would be some skirting needed and the other man would have to cooperate.

 

“Hey,” Martin called, maybe if he got his attention the man would move out of his way.

 

He looked a little overdressed to be out on this path anyway, normally when Martin ran this path he saw other joggers, shorts, t-shirts, sweat pants.

 

Not dress pants and white dress shirts.

 

And it seemed Martin’s call had got his attention after all, the man turned with something that looked like a baseball bat in his hand and Martin’s eyes widened.

 

He tried to stop, slipping on damp leaves that the sun had not yet broke though the dense tree cover to dry yet and he realized that he was on a collision course with that bat just as he hit it.

 

The blow knocked him flat on his back, and as he lay there dazed, struggling to breathe all while trying to figure out what the hell had just happened a face appeared before him.

 

“Long time no see buddy boy,” he grinned and Martin closed his eyes. “Don’t struggle, don’t scream,” he felt something cold and metallic press against his temple.

 

“I’ve got a little something that I need your help with. Be a good boy and maybe I won’t kill you once we’re done.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

Martin’s cell phone either wasn’t working or he didn’t have it with him and Danny thought it possible that he was going a little crazy.

 

When this was all over he was having some sort of homing beacon implanted directly into Martin’s body. It might piss Martin off but Danny knew that he would sleep better at night and he was pretty sure that he could get both Victor’s buy-in as Martin’s biological father and the Scott’s as his adoptive parents.

 

He steadily pushed the numbers again, the steadiness of his fingers belying the clamoring of his heart, he dialed them all out just in case something had happened to the programming on his phone and he’d not been calling Martin for the last six hours after all.

 

Beside him Jack flipped through a file of case notes, looking slightly bored. In the front seat Victor was staring sightlessly out the window as they were driven to the Scott’s residence.

 

There’d been a report of someone being attacked on one of the trails that Danny knew Martin liked to run. Two eyewitnesses waiting to speak to them as soon as they were finished interrogating the Martin’s parents.

 

One of them knew Martin, had gone to school with him and she’d been able to identify him from pictures supplied.

 

Danny was trying not to allow himself to think about anything to closely. The thought of Martin missing, gone, possibly taken again by force this time by the same man that had snatched Peter Renfer would only serve to get him thrown off this assignment.

 

By all rights Jack should have done just that, should have requested that Danny stay back in New York where Sam and Vivian were researching, looking for any impossible connection that linked Martin to Peter Renfer.

 

Danny could have told them that it was all a wild goose chase. There was no connection, the man they were dealing with was very obviously insane and there didn’t need to be a connection between them. Danny would have absolutely no problem, he thought, pulling the trigger when they came face to face with this menace from Martin’s past.

 

The only reason he wasn’t back in New York was because Jack knew, had to have known, because Danny had been extremely vocal about the fact that if Jack tossed him from the case he would be on the first commercial flight to Washington to find Martin himself.

 

And wouldn’t that embarrass the F.B.I. all to hell.

 

“Anything?” Jack asked idly, Victor turned slightly in his seat.

 

Danny shook his head and refused to let his frustration show, drew a deep breath and another and tried to not focus on the ball of fear knotting in his stomach.

 

There would be years and years of therapy needed to get through this when it was over he was sure, for both Martin and for himself.

 

“When we get him back I’m implanting him with a homing signal of some sort,” Danny muttered.

 

Victor smiled softly. “I’ll supply you with it.”

 

“And I’ll lend you the dozen men that it’ll take to hold Martin down in order for it to be implanted,” Jack said wryly.

 

Danny frowned, because yeah Martin would probably not agree with that outright.

 

But Danny could be sneaky when he wanted to be and if it meant doing it when Martin was unconscious than he wasn’t above doing that to achieve his chosen goal.

 

To keep Martin safe.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Danny had met Jackie and Paul Scott numerous times before, he considered them family. He had his own stocking at Christmas and Paul had started making hints about Danny making Martin an honest man.

 

That first Christmas he’d spent with them Martin had been all apprehensive nervousness and jitters for days leading up to it. Even as they’d walked up to the house Martin’s hand had been sweating within his and Danny had been half a breath away from telling Martin that it was okay, that they didn’t need to tell them.

 

But Jackie had opened the door laughing and happy to have Martin there, she’d hugged Martin and hugged him and whispered in his ear that she would kill him if he hurt her baby.

 

Paul had been standoffish for about thirty seconds before he’d ruffled Martin’s hair causing him to blush and Danny to laugh then he’d shook his hand and smiled warmly and just like that he’d been part of their family.

 

Loved because Martin loved him.

 

Wanted because Martin wanted him.

 

He’d been as close to adopted by the two as he could be without actually signing paperwork and having to change his name.

 

He’d never seen them like this, every other time had been warm smiles and open arms. Now Jackie was pale and looked as if she’d just moments prior stopped crying and was two words from starting again.

 

Paul looked as if he was mere seconds away from punching a hole through a wall, from the looks of his knuckles Danny thought he might have done just that at some point before they’d arrived.

 

If Danny had met him under this guise first he was almost positive Paul wouldn’t have been shaking his hand.

 

Knocking him on his ass, yes. He definitely wouldn’t have been welcoming him into their home. Welcoming him to their family.

 

Jackie rushed to him as soon as she saw him.

 

“Danny,” hands clutching at his desperately, eyes begging him to tell her that everything was okay, that it was all just a misunderstanding.

 

And he wished he could.

 

But he couldn’t.

 

Jack was the only one of them who was calm. Of course that didn’t surprise him much, Danny had always thought Jack at the very least part robot. Nothing seemed to affect him, not like Danny who thought if his heart raced any more that he might have to have someone take him to the hospital.

 

Martin missing, and Victor was eyeing Jackie and Paul as if he was envisioning them in orange jumpsuits and behind thick metal bars. He’d already determined that they were guilty, Danny was sure nothing they said was going to change his mind.

 

“Jackie,” Danny squeezed her hands, met Paul’s eyes over her shoulder as he drew her into a tight hug.

 

“Tell me this is some elaborate April Fool’s joke that you and Martin have been planning,” she begged him. Her voice was near hysterical and Danny wondered if he should have Jack call an ambulance, or their family physician.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he closed his eyes and let her hug him back. Knew that this was totally outside procedure and that Jack was almost certain to reprimand him once they left.

 

But this was his family, his ‘in-laws’ as Martin jokingly called them and he was going to offer as much moral support as he could without telling Jack and Victor to back off and leave them the fuck alone… thus getting himself fired and forcing him to look for a new job.

 

Because Victor had every right to have his questions answered. If he was right Martin was his blood, the son stolen from him years prior.

 

The son that was missing once more.

 

“Danny maybe you’d better step outside while we talk with Mr. and Mrs. Scott,” Jack said touching his shoulder gently. A small measure of support that hopefully Victor didn’t see.

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Danny pulled away from Jackie, eyes meeting hers and he was gratified to see some small measure of approval there. When they got Martin back maybe he wouldn’t have to find some way to salvage his broken family after all.

 

He’d gotten used to having a family; he didn’t want to lose it.

 

“Danny,” Jack was obviously not pleased with his statement and Danny turned to face him.

 

“Jack… Martin’s missing and if I’m not here as an investigating agent then I’m going to be here as Martin’s partner and support his family,” Danny stated decisively, arm around Jackie’s shoulder and Paul’s hand came up to rest on his shoulder.

 

A picture of solidarity against the forces of evil that were now that Missing Person’s Unit that Danny had devoted a large portion of the last few years to.

 

Jack shook his head but after a shared look with Victor didn’t say anything.

 

“Why don’t we all sit down,” Victor said, sighing with resignation.

 

Danny led Jackie to the sofa, sitting right next to her mulishly glaring at Jack and daring him to say a word. Paul sat on the other side of him and Jack just shook his head.

 

“I don’t know what this is about,” Jackie said softly, voice tearful and scared. “Martin was just going out for a run, he should have been back hours ago. And then policemen show up at our door and tell us that we can’t leave and we can’t talk to anyone and we don’t know what’s going on here,” she sounded bewildered and Danny wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

 

Victor sat heavily in the chair across from him, Jack remained standing and Victor withdrew a file from his briefcase. Opening it to remove a picture and placing it gently on the coffee table facing them.

 

Jackie gasped and Paul stiffened and Danny closed his eyes again at the sight of Martin’s familiar features.

 

Victor’s voice was low and harsh when he spoke, the pain of missing his son for thirty years etched into every word that he spoke.

 

“Now I have some questions about my son.”

      

******************************************************************************

 

Martin winced as he woke, his entire body ached. Like that one time he’d foolishly thought he could outplay Danny on the basketball court.

 

Danny had wiped the floor with him but at least he’d given him a backrub and cuddled with him after Martin had collapsed in agony on their bed.

 

Possibly he’d slipped him some pain relievers in with the soup he’d made him but Martin couldn’t prove that and Danny had always denied it.

 

There was no warm body behind him now indicating Danny was anywhere in the vicinity and memory flooded back with no warning.

 

He jerked and made to sit up, not getting very far as it seemed one arm was secured by handcuffs to the bed frame.

 

“Okay?” A young boy’s voice spoke, innocent and sweet and Martin swung his head searching for the location, then finally looked down.

 

A boy, no more then four sat on the floor beside the metal bed he was secured to.

 

“Hi,” Martin said breathlessly. What the hell?! “What are you doing here?”

 

The little boys face crumpled and Martin’s eyes widened because he couldn’t handle kids even when he was a kid.

 

“The bad man took me and I cried and screamed and mommy never came,” the boy cried, tears streaming down his face and Martin leaned over and touched his head. Ruffled his hair like his father used to.

 

“It’s going to be okay,” Martin murmured, the boy stared at him in disbelief, tears still streaming unchecked down his face. And yeah Martin hadn’t really believed that either.

 

“What’s your name?” he asked because he didn’t hold out hope for rescue in the immediate future. Danny was still in New York and it would take hours for him to get to Washington and that was even if they were still in that state.

 

The boy eyed him carefully, as if he was remembering endless lectures of ‘don’t talk to strangers’, ‘never tell a stranger your name’ and ‘for gods sake don’t take candy from people you don’t know Martin.’

 

Or maybe that was only his childhood he was remembering.

 

“Peter Renfer. I’m four,” the boy held up five fingers.

 

Martin smiled wanly. “Hi Peter, I’m Martin.”

 

“Take me home?”

 

He tugged on the cuffs securing him to the bed discreetly, wincing at the pain in his chest. It was possible he had some internal injuries and he was really hoping against hope that he was wrong and the asshole that had hit him with a baseball bat was in no way, shape or form related to him.

 

“Oh good you’re up,” the voice echoed through the room and Peter climbed up onto the bed hiding rather ineffectually behind Martin’s legs.

 

Martin blinked and squinted as bright lights flooded the room.

 

“It’s about time, I thought you were going to sleep forever,” the voice was jovial and its owner entered the room holding a tray in his hands.

 

“You woke just in time for dinner; I should have known that the smell of food would wake you up.”

 

“It was the pain actually,” Martin muttered.

 

He sat the tray on a small table that Martin hadn’t noticed at the head of the cot and smiled down at them. Martin thought it quite possible that this guy was absolutely insane.

 

“Peter?” he held out his hand to the boy which Peter eyed distrustfully and didn’t touch.

 

“Its dinner time Peter,” the smile on that face seemed to fade into something else and Peter shrank back even further behind Martin which he hadn’t thought possible seeing as how there was a wall there but whatever.

 

“Not hungry,” Peter announced, Martin glanced down at him with a bit of surprise. Because he’d thought kids were always hungry. Not that he had a lot of experience (or any) with them, but still. Popular media always showed them eating, normally things that were totally unhealthy for them but sometimes other stuff as well.

 

“Peter,” the smile dropped totally off the face and there was the face of the man that had hit Martin when he was a child and hit him again when he was an adult with a large wooden object. Martin wanted to toss his food in his face and kick him in the balls.

 

“I’m not,” Peter insisted. “Makes me sleepy.”

 

Martin eyed the food suspiciously. Sleepy equaled drugged, which equaled no escape if they were kept comatose.

 

“I think we’ll skip dinner for tonight,” Martin said stiffly. “One meal won’t hurt us.”

 

The man scowled, his features pinched and mean looking and finally he swept out of the room. Leaving the tray where it was, Martin listened carefully and heard the clicking sound of a lock being engaged on the door.

 

Peter curled up against Martin’s legs, arms around his knees and staring at him silently.

 

“Home now?”

 

Martin reached down with one hand and touched his head softly.

 

“Soon, I promise.”

 

And hoped that he could actually accomplish it.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Danny was frustrated. Standing outside the room where Vivian and Sam were talking to one of the witnesses.

 

Jack had barred him from participating, shooting him a look that spoke deeply of disappointment and Danny hated that he’d done something that Jack didn’t agree with but Martin was his life and Martin’s family was his family.

 

Just because he’d been barred from the room didn’t mean that he couldn’t watch the proceedings though, hand pressed against the cool glass and he flinched as the woman, Desiree Cavanaugh spoke quietly of seeing an older man hitting Martin with a baseball bat.

 

Of seeing him pressing a gun to Martin’s head and pulling Martin to his feet and shoving him as they’d walked away.

 

Danny wanted to scream at her because why hadn’t she done anything? Why hadn’t she screamed and called for help and done something.

 

By the time they’d finally arrived at the station, there’d been three witnesses instead of two.

 

Three witnesses that had seen Martin get knocked down and then kidnapped.

 

And none of them had done anything at all to help him.

 

The only saving grace for this third one seemed to be that she’d followed; she’d gotten a description of the van that had driven off with Martin inside, as well as the license plate number.

 

Vivian had already sent someone chasing after that information and Danny held his breath because with luck he’d be able to bring Martin home soon.

 

And then he could kiss him and coddle him and have Martin swearing at him for treating him as if he was glass.

 

He could introduce Martin to his real family and he wondered where Victor Fitzgerald had disappeared to. He would have thought that the other man would have been right in the thick of things.

 

Especially since he’d finally located the lost son that he’d been searching so many years for.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Victor splashed cold water on his face and tried not to look at his reflection in the mirror. Movements almost robotic.

 

His son, his only son was alive and well and even if he wasn’t particularly safe at the moment he knew that this team would do everything in their power to make it so.

 

Danny Taylor would do everything in his power to make it so.

 

He closed his eyes and bowed his head.

 

“Don’t even think about interfering with their relationship,” Jack’s harsh voice from behind him and his eyes snapped open to see the reflection of the other man in the mirror.

 

“He’s my son,” Victor said softly.

 

“And he can’t be your son if he’s gay, if he has a male lover?”

 

“He can be whatever he wants to be.”

 

“Don’t interfere in their relationship,” Jack reiterated sharply. “Martin won’t thank you, and Danny might actually kill you if you try to keep them apart.”

 

“He loves him,” Victor murmured. “I know that, I saw that when he talked about his Martin before I even knew that his Martin was my son.”

 

“So let them be.”

 

Victor nodded once, not agreeing or disagreeing. He would have no choice he knew, his little boy was a grown man now, had a life and family of his own.

 

He stared down at his hands, they were gripping the sink tightly and he wanted to rail at the unfairness of this all, to have finally found his son only to have said son vanish before he even got a chance to hold him once more.

 

He drew a deep breath, and then another one. His wife was on her way. His daughter flying in with her husband and two small children. He hadn’t told either of them anything besides the bare facts.

 

He’d found information about Martin, possibly located him. That was all… mostly because he thought if he told them he’d found Martin that they would never see him again.

 

He hoped before they arrived to have Martin back and if that meant with Danny Taylor standing tall and proud by his side he guessed he would have to learn to deal with it.

 

They all would.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Martin stared at the ceiling, there were water spots there and he’d counted them at first and then tried to figure out what they resembled.

 

Abstract paintings mostly, although there was one near the corner that looked like a lopsided palm tree and one by the door that looked like a bunny if he squinted and tilted his head to the left.

 

“Martin?” a young voice down by his hip, Peter had curled up in a ball by his legs and he was a warm steady presence.

 

He wasn’t Danny though and he would scare the boy by falling asleep and screaming them awake. The kid was already traumatized enough, though when they got out of there Martin could give him the name of several good therapists.

 

Therapy hadn’t worked for him but it might not be the same for Peter. Besides the fact that he was bound and determined to return Peter to his family while Martin had been afforded that luxury.

 

He’d still had wonderful parents though, they must be worried sick and he hated to think about how insane Danny must be at that very moment.

 

They talked twice a day under normal circumstances. Sometimes more but always at least twice. They hadn’t even managed one call the day that he’d been grabbed unless he counted the fact that they’d talked on phone for almost four hours and it had been about 2 am when they’d hung up finally.

 

He rested a hand on Peter’s head and felt the boy relax.

 

“It’s okay,” he said quietly, keeping his voice soft. The food was still where the man had left it, he peered at that bottle of water and wondered if it was safe enough to drink.

 

He was thirsty, knew Peter had to be as well. Finally he lifted one arm and snagged it, studying the seal around the cap.

 

It hadn’t been broken but Martin had seen enough crime show dramas to know that there were ways to tamper with things without breaking the seals.

 

A small needle inserted into the plastic for one thing and he tilted the bottle back and forth trying to see if anything spilled out.

 

Peter watched him curiously from down by his hip and Martin bit his lip.

 

“Thirsty,” the boy declared.

 

Martin nodded and finally just gave into whatever fate had in store for them, twisting the bottle cap. He felt the seal break and he offered up a silent prayer that the water would be just that, water.

 

He took a sip of the water; it tasted like normal bottled water. Luke warm from sitting out in the room and he finally offered it to Peter who scrambled to his knees leaning against Martin’s stomach as he wrapped greedy hands around it.

 

“Not so fast,” Martin cautioned as the boy tilted it up. He tried to be careful Martin saw, but he was four and thirsty and scared and water dribbled down his chin. He finally stopped when the bottle was half empty and offered it back to Martin shyly.

 

“It’s okay,” Martin shook his head and gestured for him to finish. Peter shook his head and held the bottle out to him a mulish expression on his face that Martin had seen on his face in pictures when he been a child.

 

“I’m a big boy,” Peter said proudly. “I have to share and be good.”

 

Martin smiled gently and took the bottle from him, “You are a very big boy,” he agreed. “And you’ve been very good and very brave. Your mommy and daddy will be very proud of you.”

 

Peter grinned at him, bright white teeth shining and he curled up against Martins’ hip again, eyes warm and trusting as he watched him.

 

Martin tilted the bottle back and drained the rest of it, leaning slightly to place the empty bottle on the floor and hoped that he hadn’t just poisoned them both.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Danny was tapping a pen against the conference room table. Sam sat next to him silent, Vivian was at the white board updating what information they had managed to glean from the three witnesses that had come forward.

 

The details of the van, the license plate number and finally the DMV photo of the man that the vehicle was registered to.

 

Andrew Jacoby.

 

In the middle of the table, spread out between Danny and Sam was Andrew Jacoby’s list of priors.

 

Danny had stopped reading when every next word he’d read made him want to smash his fist through something hard and unforgiving.

 

Martin stared back at him from the whiteboard, a shy smile on his face. He hated having his picture taken. Right next to him was the picture of Peter Renfer and Danny closed his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face harshly.

 

Sam leaned over to him, a comforting hand on his arm.

 

“He’ll be okay,” she said softly, reassuringly. Danny opened his eyes and wanted to ask her how she knew, how she be sure.

 

“We found the van,” Jack waved at them from the entrance of the bullpen, a patrol officer standing slightly behind him.

 

Danny closed his eyes again and prayed that Martin was alright, and that he could just hold on for a little bit longer.

 

******************************************************************************

 

The van was the only vehicle in the parking lot of an abandoned, run down warehouse.

 

Danny shivered, cold for no reason suddenly as he wondered if this was where Riley Freemont had been keeping Martin and Peter.

 

It wasn’t much to look at, no power to the building, windows broken from age and kids playing ball in the parking lot.

 

“Danny I think you should stay in the car,” Jack said quietly. Danny shook his head, didn’t trust his voice to actually work.

 

They’d managed to force Victor to stay behind, he’d been waiting for his wife and daughter to arrive and he’d still fought it. Danny had as well, because they’d wanted him to sit in a nice, comfortable office while they got Martin back and he wanted no part of that.

 

He wanted to be the first thing that Martin saw when they came through the door and he knew that Jack was breaking rule after rule to allow him to be there.

 

Sam was already outside the car, blonde hair gleaming in the sun. Beside her Vivian had a walkie talkie in hand and was speaking to a couple of the local bureau agents.

 

Danny reached a hand for the door handle and was gratified that it didn’t shake as he pushed it open. He could hear Jack’s long suffering sigh as he too exited the car. A hand on his shoulder stopped him and he turned slightly, a nod from Jack and a squeeze on the shoulder and Jack walked away.

 

Jack had always said that he was no good at this part of things, the supportive, caring boss-type figure.

 

Danny thought he might be wrong about that, he squared his shoulders and walked over to where Sam and Vivian were still huddled together talking.

 

And made sure that they had him on the first entrance team.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Martin had managed to fall asleep, he wasn’t sure how and he really hoped that the water hadn’t been drugged after all.

 

He didn’t think it had been because Peter had drank more than he had and the boy was wide awake, head resting on his hip. He’d started out with his head resting on Martin’s stomach and Martin had almost tossed him off the bed in pain.

 

It was possible that there was internal bleeding, maybe a few broken ribs.

 

Danny was going to be pissed. So were his parents.

 

A faint popping noise woke him and Peter jerked beside him, sitting up suddenly as Martin himself scrambled to his knees. Cursing at the handcuff that kept one hand bound, he managed to contort himself enough to push Peter behind him.

 

More popping noises and it took Martin a second to realize that it was gunfire.

 

Actual gunfire and he hoped that whoever was shooting was someone that they wanted to see and not someone else who was going to drag them further from their family’s and loved ones.

 

“Martin?” Peter’s voice sounded tiny and scared behind him, little hands twisting in the back of his t-shirt. Warm, muffled puffs of air told Martin that Peter was burying his face against Martin’s back.

 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, reached behind him with the arm he could actually move and awkwardly pressed a hand against Peter’s small, shaking frame. “It’s going to be okay.”

 

And he hoped he wasn’t lying.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Riley Freemont on his knees, hands cuffed behind his backs and Danny had never wanted to punch or shoot someone in his entire life.

 

The bastard was laughing at them.

 

Just laughing, because they’d searched the building from end to end and had found no sign of either Martin or Peter and now he knew he was going to go insane.

 

He thought of Jackie and Paul sitting beside a phone waiting for someone to call and tell them that their son was okay.

 

He thought of Victor and his wife and daughter, waiting at the police station for someone to tell them that the hell that they’d lived in for over 30 years was over and that the child that had been stolen from them had been found.

 

“Where are they?” Jack was hissing, hovering beside the man and Danny straightened slightly. He’d never heard Jack sound like that before, never heard him sound like he was two seconds and a twitch away from just ending someone’s life.

 

Riley Freemont obviously heard the same thing, his laughter died and he stared at Jack like he had no clue what was going on. His eyes flitted around the room and Danny’s followed the same paths.

 

The agents and cops were all studiously looking the other way, Sam was actually studying her fingernails and Vivian was staring at the radio in her hand like it could answer all of life’s mysteries.

 

“Where are they?” a soft almost inaudible click and there was a jerk from the agent standing next to Danny.

 

They didn’t mind the ‘fear of god’ tactic.

 

Because honestly watching someone practice intimidation was better, in most of their minds, then going back to the station and telling Victor Fitzgerald that they had not located his son and they were really sorry, and could he please not fire them?

 

Obviously fear of Victor Fitzgerald only extended so far though and they were going to have to draw the line at actual violence being perpetuated on the suspect, because badges and careers had been ruined over less.

 

Freemont swallowed heavily, face pale and Danny’s hands clenched.

 

“It’s just a boy, and an accountant. They’re not even important,” he whined.

 

“The accountant, the not important one, you say,” Jack grinned, a truly scary grin and Freemont cast around for help. “His father grew up to be the Deputy Director of the F.B.I. You might see parole over his dead body.”

 

Freemont blanched, visibly shaking on the ground. “There’s a door, hidden in the third room on the left behind a book case. They’re in there.” Jack stood easily, waved his hands and two agents came forward, yanking him none to gently to his feet. “I didn’t hurt them, not after I got them here. I didn’t lay a finger on either one of them.”

 

Danny growled and would have gone after him with raised fists if Jack hadn’t latched onto one arm and pulled him away. Freemont had hurt Martin enough before he ever got him to this place and Danny hoped at this point to just find him relatively in one piece.

 

“Sam make sure the ambulance is standing by,” Jack called out, he dropped Danny’s arm as Danny stepped ahead of him. Third room on the left and there was the book case.

 

He didn’t even pause, one of the agents that Victor had supplied stepping up beside him as they muscled the bookcase out of the way. Letting it fall on the ground the others stepping around it and there was a metal door. Three padlocks on it and Danny growled again in frustration.

 

He could hear Jack behind him ordering someone to find cutters of some sort to get them off and he wondered if he was desperate enough to rip them off.

 

Sam came running in with a ring of keys, obviously found when they’d patted Freemont down and Danny knew his own limitations. Knew his hands were shaking just a bit to much to actually work any of them so he stood aside as Sam flipped through the ring.

 

One lock down, then the second and Sam went through all the keys twice before the third finally clicked open and fell away.

 

She stepped back and he yanked the door open, squinting in the darkness and he could hear heavy breathing in the room, a flashlight was shoved into his hand and he stepped into the room, shining the light in an arc.

 

Bright eyes glittering at him and he took a step forward, then another. Martin’s face staring at him, as he moved closer and closer. Moving slowly in the dark and he could hear Jack yelling for lights and other un-important things as he walked towards Martin.

 

He flashed the light down and saw one of Martin’s arms handcuffed to the bed, the other twisted behind his back and then he was in front of him.

 

His hands were still shaking, the light was wobbling back and forth and later Martin would probably, maybe, laugh at him for being scared for him. But at the moment he reached out with a shaking hand and cupped Martin’s face and tried to be manly and stoic because Sam and Vivian would never let him live it down if he cried.

 

“Danny,” Martin’s voice was shaky, and there was pain in it and Danny swallowed his fear and noticed that the arm Martin had twisted behind his back was actually his way of protecting someone.

 

A little face peered at him from around Martin’s body and Danny recognized the face as one whose picture was right at that moment tacked up next to Martin’s on a whiteboard.

 

“Who’s this little guy?” he asked even though he already knew the answer, keeping his voice light and unthreatening. Peter grinned at him warily and Martin leaned forward, resting his forehead against Danny’s chest and Danny allowed an arm to wrap around his shoulders and hoped no one noticed the kiss he pressed to the top of Martin’s head.

 

“I’m Peter,” a sweet little voice answered him. There was wetness against his shirt and he hoped it was Martin crying and not Martin bleeding from a head wound that he hadn’t noticed.

 

“I’m four,” Peter smiled at him, held up five fingers and giggled.

 

There was movement behind him and lights suddenly blaring to life in the room, Martin didn’t move, but Peter blinked rapidly taking in all the people moving around.

 

Paramedics with stretchers and Jack moving to stand beside Danny.

 

Someone snapped the chain on the cuffs around Martin’s wrist and Martin moved enough to wrap that arm around Danny’s waist. The other still holding onto Peter behind him.

 

“Are you going to take us home now?” Peter asked brightly.

 

Danny nodded.

 

“Yeah we’re going to take you home now,” he murmured. Paramedics tried to take charge of Peter but he fought them, clinging to Martin until Martin finally looked up.

 

He’d been crying, cheeks wet and Danny’s heart clenched. Martin didn’t cry. He hated to cry, said it gave him headache.

 

He moved away from Danny, though he kept his hand still resting on Danny’s waist and stared down into Peter’s now tear-stained face.

 

“It’s okay,” he soothed. He ruffled Peter’s hair. “You’re going to be a big boy right? You’re going to let Sam and Vivian go with you to the hospital…” Peter screwed up his face in an expression that said he was going to fight this with every breath in his four year old body and Martin smiled gently, understanding on his face. “How about if I go with you?”

 

“Promise?” Peter’s voice trembled and Danny wondered if this was what a four year old Martin had been like when he’d been kidnapped and then rescued. Scared of unseen things and terrified of being alone.

 

“I promise.”

 

The paramedics bundled them together onto one stretcher, Danny walking alongside one hand clasped within Martin’s because the moment they’d tried to wheel them away Martin had latched on and he’d been pulled along beside them.

 

He wondered if everyone would be waiting at the hospital or if he would get a few hours grace to explain to Martin why he suddenly had two families.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Martin hadn’t said a word to him. Not since he’d said his name in that heartbreaking voice while he’d been handcuffed to a bed.

 

The paramedics tried to tell him that there wasn’t enough room in the ambulance for all of them. That they would take Martin and Peter to the hospital and Danny could follow along beside them. The only thing that had changed their minds, he thought, was that Martin absolutely, positively refused to let go of his hand.

 

Superhuman strength would most likely have to be applied to get Martin to let go of him.

 

Even now, in the brightly lit Emergency Room, with doctors and nurses and cops in uniform bustling in and out of the private room that Danny was sure Victor Fitzgerald had ordered Martin hadn’t let go of his hand.

 

And Peter hadn’t let go of Martin.

 

It was making the doctors and nurses very upset, Danny was trying to be helpful, moving as far to the side of the bed as he could to allow them to poke and prod and determine what injuries Martin and Peter had sustained.

 

Peter looked to be in good health, although a bit skittish. He wondered what had happened to the boy that had introduced himself to a stranger and it hit him like a ton of bricks that Peter had only done that after Martin had spoken his name and wrapped himself around him.

 

“Mr. Taylor?” a nurse, young and blonde was standing beside him and he blinked wondering how long she’d been there pulling on the sleeve of his jacket. From the half smile adorning Martin’s face he thought it might have been longer than it should have been.

 

He stared down at her, his best intimidation face on though she didn’t appear to be buying it. He sighed, ran his thumb over the across the skin of Martin’s hand and waited for her to make her request.

 

“We need to take Mr. Scott down to X-ray now,” she smiled at him, warm and genuine and a glance over showed Martin frowning though from the way he was sitting hunched over Danny knew that he had, at the very least, cracked if not broken ribs and he didn’t need to suffer like that; not if Danny could help it any way.

 

Danny nodded and Martin’s frown deepened, subsiding a bit when Danny squeezed his hand reassuringly.

 

“Peter why don’t we go get something for you to eat from the cafeteria,” Danny held out his other arm and Peter moved slowly from his spot at Martin’s other side. Looking back and forth between them until Martin finally nodded with resignation and released Danny’s hand.

 

Peter took Danny’s free hand now, looking on with worry as Martin was helped into a wheel chair. Danny stopped them before they could move him, leaning down and kissing Martin softly. Martin smiled up at him, it was tired and Danny could see the lines that pain had forced onto his face but he was safe now and he kept reminding himself of that.

 

“I’ll be here when you get back.”

 

Martin nodded, another smile though now it was Martin’s way of reassuring Danny that he would be there when he got back and then the nurse was wheeling him away.

 

“When are my mom and dad gonna get here?” Peter was a pint sized worrier at his side. Worried about Martin, worried about his parents.

 

“They should be on their way here, do you want to try and call them before we get something to eat?” Danny kneeled in front of the boy, hand on his shoulder and he could never remember being this small.

 

Peter nodded, eyes filling with tears and Danny wondered what Riley Freemont had told Peter about his parents. What he’d told Martin thirty years prior.

 

Hatred, vicious and pure and he wanted just five minutes alone in a room with the man so that he could punish him for every night that Martin’d had nightmares.

 

The door the room opened, Sam standing there looking startled at the sight of Danny kneeling in front of a child.

 

“He told me that mommy and daddy didn’t want me any more,” Peter’s bottom lip quivered, tears falling from his eyes and he looked heartbreakingly sad.

 

And now Sam looked as if she was going to burst into tears, Danny pulled Peter into his arms. Tight hug, “They love you and they miss you so much,” whispered into his ear and he didn’t even know if Peter heard or understood him.

 

Sam did though; she had her cell phone out and was grimly punching numbers. She talked quietly into it while Danny quietly comforted Peter and then she was kneeling beside them.

 

“I have someone here who wants to talk to you Peter,” she held the phone out to the boy and Danny released his grip on him allowing Peter to cup the phone in both hands and press it to his ear.

 

“Peter? Baby?” a crying female voice. “Buddy?” a crying male voice that time.

 

“Mommy, daddy,” Peter was crying again, but he was babbling into the phone, not making any sense but Danny was almost positive that the parents at the other end didn’t care in the slightest.

 

He stood slowly, moving a bit away and Sam followed him.

 

“How’s Martin?” she asked quietly, hand on his arm.

 

“He’s…” Danny pressed a hand to his eyes, it felt like tears again and he couldn’t understand that because Martin was safe and healthy and not whole by any means but he was safe, and Danny didn’t know why he felt like crying.

 

“Danny,” Sam squeezed his arm, if his posture had been more inviting he thought she might have hugged him but she didn’t, she just squeezed his arm and waited for him to open his eyes. “He’s okay, it’s been a stressful few days… but. He’s. Okay.” She said it like it needed to be stressed, like she was forcing him to believe it.

 

“They took him for x-rays,” Danny said softly. “They were talking about cracked ribs but I’m pretty sure that at least one or two are broke and they’re worried about internal bleeding.”

 

“You’ll cross that bridge when you get to it; he’s in a hospital now. Victor Fitzgerald is flying in his private doctors and at least two specialists as we speak.”

“Martin’s going to hate that, he dislikes hospitals with a fiery passion.”

 

“Well I imagine he’ll be spending a few days here at least. A private room has been arranged for him and we’ve got a psychiatrist for him to talk to so he can begin working through things,” Jack from the door and Danny turned to face his boss.

 

Hoping he still had a job after he’d pretty much broken every single regulation while searching for Martin.

 

“He doesn’t like shrinks, thinks they’re all quacks.”

 

“Be that as it may,” Jack shrugged, looking down at where Peter was still crying into Sam’s phone. “He’ll need to speak with someone, they both will.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

Danny was walking back towards Martin’s room with two cups of coffee, one for him, one contraband one that he’d had to insist three times wasn’t for Martin before the nurses would let him walk away from their station with it.

 

“Excuse me?” a petite woman, dark hair, dark eyes and Danny stopped suddenly. Coffee sloshing over the rims of the cups onto his hand.

 

“Oh I’m so sorry,” she pulled a white handkerchief from a pocket, dabbing at his hands smiling her apologies at him.

 

Danny just stared at her.

 

Because this was Martin in a female body. This woman had Martin’s eyes and Martin’s hair and Martin’s mouth and Danny wanted to say something but couldn’t think of a word to utter.

 

He’d not told Martin about the Fitzgerald’s yet. Not told them that they’d found the family that had been missing him for thirty years.

 

“I’m Janice Montgomery, you are Danny Taylor, correct?” she smiled at him crumpling the handkerchief up in one hand.

 

Danny nodded slowly.

 

“Good, my father is lousy with descriptions. You’d think since he’s worked with the F.B.I. for over half his life that he would be better but he’s not,” she shook her head ruefully. “All he told me was that you were fairly attractive, tall man with dark hair of possibly Latino descent. Which honestly I never needed to hear my father utter the words ‘fairly attractive’ in conjunction with a man but oh well.”

 

“Can I help you?” Danny finally found his tongue and aimed to stop her. Martin could get going on tangents like that, normally about math or accounting or why chess was a perfectly acceptable date night game.

 

“Sorry, my husband is normally here to put me in check but he’s flying out in a few days with our kids so it’s just me.”

 

Danny raised an eyebrow and Janice looked at him with an apologetic expression.

 

“I was told that you could take me to my brother?”

 

Danny winced and Janice narrowed her eyes at him.

 

“See the thing is…” he took a deep breath, Janice couldn’t have Martin’s temper as well that would have just been cruel to their parents.

 

“He doesn’t actually know about you yet… and your connection to him.”

 

Janice growled at him, the same sound that Martin made right before he launched into a tirade to end all tirades.

 

Or he could be wrong and she could have Martin’s temper as well.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Martin had been patient for a very long time. He’d let the nurse poke and prod, he’d let the doctors poke and prod. He’d had x-rays and tests run until he wasn’t sure what exactly they thought they’d find but hoped they’d let him know if they found anything bad.

 

The entire time he waited for Danny to come back, it had been over two hours and he was holding the call button in his hand now, twisting it back and forth and wondering if he could possibly handcuff Danny to his side until Martin was able to not want to panic because he wasn’t there.

 

He was just getting ready to hit the little button to summon his nurse ‘if you push it I’ll be right here, you have nothing to worry about Mr… Martin, you’re perfectly safe here’ and order her to find Danny right now when the door pushed open and Danny entered.

 

Looking tired and happy, and Martin tried not to notice that he was wearing that expression that Martin only saw when Danny was trying to gear himself up to tell Martin that he’d killed all his plants or gave all his books to charity.

 

Not that the last one had happened but Danny had threatened to do it often enough that Martin thought it was only a matter of time.

 

Danny was followed by a petite brunette. Dark eyes and she looked vaguely familiar though Martin couldn’t place why because he was fairly certain that he’d never laid eyes on her before.

 

“You said you’d be here when I got back,” Martin grumbled petulantly. And he was aware that he sounded no older than Peter at that moment but Danny had promised and then he’d disappeared for hours leaving Martin at the mercy of doctors and nurses that were sadistic and cruel even though they promised ‘this won’t hurt a bit’.

 

Danny smiled at him and then glanced uncertainly at the woman who had moved up alongside him who was staring at Martin like she was looking at a ghost and while happy about it could possibly burst into tears at any possible moment.

 

Martin didn’t handle crying woman very well. He preferred to hand them off to Danny (who charmed them into giving him their first born) or his mother (who always seemed to pull cookies and sympathy out of nowhere).

 

Speaking of which…

 

“Am I going to get to see my parents before they drug me into somnolence?” he asked bitterly. Because the doctor and his nurse had both mentioned sedation and he had been overruled when he mentioned that he didn’t really need to be drugged in order to sleep.

 

Which was a lie of course but he had figured he could convince Danny to crawl into the tiny bed with him and hold him so he could sleep for a few hours.

 

Danny bit his lip and Martin eyed him suspiciously.

 

“They’ll be here soon?” he said it as a question and Martin wondered what the hell was going on and what he wasn’t being told. It wasn’t like Danny to keep secrets from him.

 

He moved his gaze from Danny to the woman and wondered if he could blame Danny’s strange behavior on her. Danny noticing his look hastened introductions.

 

“This is Janice Montgomery, she’s…”

 

“My maiden name is Fitzgerald,” she interrupted Danny. Smiling gently at Martin like she knew this was difficult for him and he just stared at her in incomprehension, because he didn’t understand.

 

“My brother called me Jannie,” she said softly and she stared at Martin with sad, sad eyes and Martin swallowed.

 

“Marty took my blocks,” a tiny little girl, black hair up in messy ponytail though it had started the day neat and orderly, was glaring at an equally small boy who was clutching the blocks protectively to his chest.

 

“Mine first,” he stated emphatically.

 

“Am I going to have to separate you two?” a gruff male voice and both children looked to the door of the playroom.

 

“Daddy,” cried in unison and the girl rushed forward launching herself into her fathers’ arms, while the boy took longer because he didn’t want to lose his carefully won prize.

 

His father plucked him off the floor, children resting on both hips and they were almost to big to be held together by their father but for a little while longer they could.

 

“Do we need to have another talk about the mutual benefits of sharing Martin?” the boy swallowed and looked down and then slowly handed one of the blocks in his hand to his sister. She smiled happily at him and his father looked down at him proudly.

 

Martin breathed, blinked and Danny was standing by his bed. Hands clutched tightly between his and he knew that Danny was two seconds from calling for a nurse.

 

“I had to share my blocks with you,” he said softly, she smiled at him and Danny squeezed his hands and he felt like his chest was going to burst and he totally didn’t understand what the fuck was going on.

 

“Daddy made me share my blocks with you and then I got a lecture on the mutual benefits of sharing.”

 

Danny muttered something that sounded like ‘that sounds like something Victor Fitzgerald would do’ and Martin still didn’t understand and his chest still hurt and he tugged a hand free from Danny’s and fumbled for the call button for the nurse.

 

Who appeared silently, pushing Janice away and moving Danny further towards the head of the bed and helped Martin turn onto his side. A doctor appeared beside her, needle in hand and Martin had a second where he wanted to say no but he didn’t get his mouth to work before they were giving him the sedative.

 

Maybe the world would make more sense when he woke up.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Martin opened his eyes and regretted it immediately.

 

The sun was bright and shining so either he’d not been out to long or he’d been out for a whole day and from the way Danny was slumped down in a chair, eyes closed. He looked tired even though he was asleep he thought he might have been out at least over night.

 

He cleared his throat and Danny jerked to attention, eyes snapping open and when he saw Martin looking at him he smiled.

 

Then frowned.

 

“How do you feel?” he asked. Martin squeezed his hand and winced when he shifted slightly.

 

“Sore,” he said softly, his voice sounded gravelly and he thought he sounded pathetic and miserable.

 

He glanced around the room, craning his neck and taking great pains to not shift his body at all. Every time he breathed his chest ached in response.

 

There was no sign of the woman that had been in the room when the doctors had thankfully knocked him out.

 

Danny pulled his chair closer to the bed, gripped Martin’s hand tightly and took a deep breath.

 

“I’m not going to like this, am I?”

 

Danny touched his face, a thumb tracing over his lips and he smiled slightly. Trying to look reassuring though Martin couldn’t rightfully say that he felt in the least reassured.

 

“You know how I mentioned that one of my big bosses was in New York because of a case.”

 

“The one that was connected to another case?” he vaguely remembered the conversation. Late at night, wrapped in a quilt that smelled like Danny, listening to Danny talk about nonsense things that Martin hadn’t even paid attention to because truthfully he’d only been on the phone so he could hear Danny’s voice.

 

“Yeah, that one,” Danny winced and Martin frowned.

 

He didn’t think he liked where he thought Danny’s vague words were leading this conversation.

 

“His name is Victor Fitzgerald,” Danny said softly, his eyes were locked intently on Martin’s face and Martin waited for the other shoe to drop.

 

“Thirty years ago his four year old son was snatched from a park…”

 

“Do you want to pet the puppy?”

 

He knelt down, daddy would be mad because his pants were dirty but he liked playing in the sandbox and if he made the face that daddy made when he didn’t like something on TV then the other kids stayed away.

 

Martin closed his eyes

 

Felt Danny stroke his hair gently and he leaned into the touch.

 

“Martin…”

 

“I have a family,” Martin said softly. And he did. Jackie and Paul Scott had taken him, had raised him and loved him as well… if not better, than the parents that were his biological ones would have.

 

He pressed his free hand to his chest, his heart hurt and he didn’t know if there was something going on or if it was a psychosomatic reaction to the upheaval that he was sure was going to be foisted on him whether he wanted it or not.

 

“I know,” Danny soothed. He felt soft lips press a kiss to his forehead, brush another one over his lips and he wondered how accepting the Fitzgerald’s would be of their son being gay. Of his being in a stable, happy, loving relationship with another man.

 

Because he was pretty sure that he wasn’t at all how they had envisioned their son turning out.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Martin was asleep again, hand lax in his. Calm, steady breaths and even though every so often his face would twinge in pain, for the most part it was calm and relaxed.

 

Danny leaned forward in his chair, bowing his head slightly. The conversation had gone better than he’d thought it would, at least Martin had not outright stated that he would have absolutely nothing to do with the Fitzgerald’s.

 

Not that Danny thought he was going to be given much choice in the matter.

 

He wondered if maybe, subconsciously, Martin knew that the reason that the Scott’s hadn’t been into to see him yet was because Victor Fitzgerald had pretty much stated that until he, his wife and his daughter got to see and talk to Martin, that Jackie and Paul were not allowed anywhere within a five mile radius of him.

 

The door being pushed open drew his attention and he watched as Janice’s head peaked around the corner, her body slowly following.

 

The door closed quietly behind her, on the bed Martin’s brow wrinkled as he frowned.

 

Danny drifted a hand over the lines and Martin breathed a sigh and settled once more.

 

“He’s asleep again?” her voice sounded disappointed as she walked to the foot of the bed and stared down at her brother.

 

She’d done this before, right after the doctor had sedated Martin the first time she’d stood there and stared at him.

 

Awe written into every inch of her face, her hands had been clenched at her sides and Danny knew that she’d wanted to touch her brother but didn’t feel that it was her place.

 

He didn’t know her, she didn’t know him.

 

Danny had wanted to tell her that it was okay, that it was going to be okay… eventually. But he’d not said a word. Just watched, because it wasn’t his place to decide what Martin was going to be okay with. There were already too many other people were going to be or already were making decisions for Martin and Danny would not be one of them.

 

He would tell Martin what he knew and allow him to make his own decisions, like he always had tried to do.

 

Besides he didn’t know Janice. Didn’t know Victor or his wife either and even though they were blood relatives they were as good as strangers to Martin.

 

And it should be up to Martin as to whether or not he felt that he could have a relationship with them.

 

“He’s in a lot of pain, the doctors…” he waved his hands at the IV’s hanging at the head of Martin’s bed. He wasn’t sure exactly what they were giving him but he was pretty sure that it was throwing Martin for a loop and a half every time he regained consciousness.

 

Janice nodded in understanding even as she looked disappointed.

 

Every time she came in Martin was sleeping, eventually he was sure she was going to start talking about the conspiracy to keep Martin from having to interact with her or her parents. Even though Danny had no control over how Martin reacted to the medications that he was being fed through his IV’s.

 

The door opened again, Victor Fitzgerald this time, followed closely by an apologetic Jack and Danny stood. Still holding Martin’s hand because everyone knew that they were together and there was no reason to hide it.

 

Plus he got a bit of a kick out of Victor Fitzgerald wincing at the sight of their linked hands. If he ever walked in on them kissing Danny was pretty sure they might be responsible for the Assistant Director of the FBI having a massive heart attack.

 

Victor hugged his daughter loosely, whispered words that Danny didn’t hear and they stood together at the foot of the bed staring at the missing member of their family.

 

Stared at him like if they studied him long enough and hard enough they would know all his secrets, know everything about his life… know him and how to interact with him when he woke.

 

Danny could probably tell them everything that they wanted to know.

 

Martin was a gay accountant who suffered from insomnia and nightmares, who loved the parents that had taken him off the street and raised and loved him and was also in a committed relationship with an F.B.I. agent who tended to be the jealous type.

 

He was pretty sure that wasn’t the son or brother they thought they were going to end up with.

 

“…we’re going to move him to a private facility in the morning,” Victor was saying when Danny tuned into the conversation.

 

“Wait a minute, what?” he held up a hand and he must have looked shocked and angry because Janice moved away from her father to come stand beside him and touched his arm gently as if that would calm him down.

 

He wanted to tell her that only worked when it was Martin touching him and seeing as how Martin was sleeping while people were trying to make important life decisions for him, well obviously he was still going to be pissed off.

 

“The reporters are pretty much laying siege to the hospital, the guards have already caught two photographers trying to sneak onto the floor and while they’ve been removed from the grounds Martin is very hot story, missing four year old son of the Assistant Director of the F.B.I. found after thirty years, that’s an important news story.”

 

“It must be a slow news day then,” a tired voice from the bed and Danny saw Janice grin as Martin shifted, grimaced and squeezed his hand.

 

Victor’s hand latched onto the metal bars at the foot of the bed, leaning forward slightly. Martin stared at him and didn’t say a word.

 

Though there was a flicker of recognition that indicated that Martin knew who Victor was.

 

Danny sat back down in the chair, hand tight around Martin’s and when Martin looked at him he smiled reassuringly.

 

Martin was shaking, his hand trembling within Danny’s grasp and Danny lifted their linked hands and pressed a kiss against the back of Martin’s. Letting his lips linger there while he tried to think of the right thing to say.

 

“You’ve met Jack Malone before, this is Victor Fitzgerald, he’s Janice’s father,” Danny said softly.

 

“I know.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

They left him alone with Danny when Martin refused to agree to be moved.

 

When they’d finally left Victor Fitzgerald had a look on his face that spoke to being thwarted and not liking it at all.

 

Jack had been amused and hiding it badly, Victor would probably do something cruel to him in the future as punishment. Jack would probably enjoy it because it would give him just cause to retaliate in some way.

 

Janice had smiled at him, she’d stood small and quiet by her fathers (he refused to consider Victor his father because he didn’t know the man and wouldn’t bestow a title that was a form of endearment on a man that he’d only just met) side while he’d done everything but ground Martin for not going along with what he deemed a necessary precaution to protect him.

 

As Martin saw it, the man that had taken him had been captured. What more did he have to be afraid of beside his own memories of the events that had catapulted him into the life he’d lived.

 

“Are you okay?” Danny waited until the door closed behind Janice and sat on the side of the bed. Martin smiled up at him, and laid his hand against Danny’s thigh.

 

Danny returned the smile, a hand touching his face gently and Martin closed his eyes. Leaning into the touch.

 

He still hurt, though the drugs made him feel as if he was experiencing it from two floors away. In a few hours it would return full force but until then he felt kind of hazy and vague and really not up to defending his decision to stay put so he hoped Danny didn’t try to change his mind.

 

“I’m tired,” he admitted quietly.

 

“I know,” Danny pressed a kiss to his forehead. Let his lips linger against his skin and Martin loved him so intensely at that moment that he felt tears well up and was glad that his eyes were closed.

 

“I don’t want to sleep,” Martin whispered. Even with Danny there he was scared to let himself drift off, even though he slept already. For hours on end he’d slept and he wondered if it was the drugs or the fact that the man that had so utterly terrified him as a child had been captured that had put an end to the never-ending cycle of nightmares.

 

He hoped it was the latter, was almost positive of that fact though he wasn’t brave enough to tempt fate. He could only imagine what new nightmares would spring into his already too full rotation.

 

It was a testament to how long they’d been together that Danny knew what he needed without Martin having to ask for it.

 

His eyes opened when he felt the bed shift and looked over to see Danny pulling his shoes off and shrugging out of his jacket. Tossing it on the chair before he climbed into the bed with Martin. Lying on his side, hand hovering over Martin’s stomach, other resting under his head and he looked at Martin.

 

Just looked at him. Eyes locked together and Martin blamed the drugs and the pain for the fact that he could feel tears in his eyes again.

 

“I’m spending a lot of time with your parents,” he started softly and Martin smiled. Because Danny hadn’t even hesitated and Martin knew that he was referring to Jackie and Paul.

 

“Once things calm down,” unspoken was the ‘when Victor Fitzgerald takes a valium’, “I’ll see what I can do about sneaking them in.”

 

“Don’t let them move me,” Martin murmured. He wouldn’t put it past them to try and sneak him out under the guise of ‘protection’ while Danny was gone.

 

“They’re not taking you anywhere, I can promise you that. Not unless you want to be moved,” Danny stated emphatically. “We signed papers and besides you I am the only person that can make that call.”

 

Martin smiled, relieved, even though those papers had only ever been an issue because Martin had kind of freaked out about Danny being in the wrong place at the wrong time and who would look out for Danny’s best interests if something happened.

 

To which Danny had replied that he was always careful and Martin didn’t need to worry about him and he kind of needed to breathe sometime within the next sixty seconds or he was going to pass out, then he’d signed the papers and everything had been okay.

 

Even though Martin still worried when Danny was chasing after bad men with guns with no particular motive to not use them against him, he at least felt marginally better that if, god forbid, something did happen that Martin would and could be there for him and people would listen to him when he talked.

 

He’d never thought those papers would be used the other way (because hell he was an accountant and the most dangerous thing he normally encountered was running out of caffeine in the middle of a three day tax audit) and that it would be Danny looking out for Martin’s best interests while Martin was drugged to the gills and finding the plain white walls kind of interesting because of the way they sparkled when the sun hit them just right.

 

“Although if another photographer gets in here I reserve the right to at least look at that place they want to move you to.”

 

Martin frowned.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Victor wasn’t just blowing smoke when he was in here earlier, when he told you that there’d been several attempts to breach the security to get in here, he wasn’t making that up. You are on a private floor; there are guards at each exit and one at the nurses’ station,” Danny’s voice was calm and in control but Martin knew they were about two seconds from Danny’s over-protective, ‘wrap you in cotton gauze and stick you in a drawer because that way you won’t over get hurt’ side popping up and then Martin would have to hurt someone.

 

“Why?” Martin was confused, bewildered and Danny seemed to understand that he didn’t quite get what was going on. And he didn’t laugh or make fun of him, just stroked his hand over Martin’s stomach so gently that Martin thought he’d imagined it.

 

“Like they said, you’re big news. And by not releasing any information other than that you as well as Peter Renfer were both safe and being treated in a local hospital, well it’s only fueled the flames. It hit the national newswires yesterday so I don’t think we’ve seen the worst of it yet. You’re going to be famous, Sam thinks we might be able to finagle a free car or something,” Martin was almost certain that Danny was making that last bit up but still…

 

“I don’t want to be a celebrity,” he moaned. “Can you imagine what my reunion next year is going to be like?”

 

“At least this way everyone will know your name.”

 

“I would have settled for them just not calling me Marty anymore.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

The decision to move or not to move was taken out of their hands at 4:30 the next morning when one of the free-lance photographers managed to get all the way to Martin’s door and was just pushing it open when Danny and Jack arrived on the run after having gotten paged while scrounging for coffee that wouldn’t kill them.

 

Jack had physically restrained Danny from hitting the man, visions of lawsuits probably dancing before his eyes as he’d kept Danny pressed to the wall while he struggled and yelled and threatened the man with bodily harm and possibly death.

 

He couldn’t be sure though if it had been actual death or maiming though, the words had just spilled from his lips and he’d been seeing a quite bright shade of red at the thought of someone getting into Martin’s (who was supposed to be protected, where the hell were the guards) room while he slept.

 

When the photographer had been led away by amused cops that had given Danny a wide berth when they’d shown up Danny had to wait a few minutes to allow himself to calm down before going into see Martin.

 

He had no idea what he was going to tell the other man, he had to have heard everything and when he finally pushed open the door he found Martin on the bed staring at the door with wide eyes, scared and hiding it badly.

 

He went to him immediately. Pulling Martin into his arms, hugging him tightly. They weren’t ones for public displays of affection normally, but the last few days seemed to just be bringing it out of them.

 

Besides Jack had seen them kiss before that day Martin had been rescued.

 

A Christmas party with mistletoe landmines three years prior sprung to mind suddenly. Martin was shaking again and Danny wondered if he’d ever even stopped in the first place.

 

“Get the name of that place Victor wants to move him to, we’ll take a look at it.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

It was a nice place.

 

Quiet, out of the way. A private recovery facility for celebrities and other famous faces that wanted to be able to heal without the prying eyes of the media.

 

Martin didn’t want to know how much it was going to cost him to stay here for an hour let alone until his doctors deemed him once again healthy.

 

He was actually kind of glad that he wasn’t paying for it, he was pretty sure that his health care wasn’t going to even contemplate covering it.

 

He had a private set of rooms, Danny was being allowed to stay with him and the only bad side was the fact that he was going to start having daily chats with a psychiatrist who was most definitely going to make him talk about his life and the kidnappings.

 

He closed his eyes, buried his face in his hands and did not groan out loud because that would only serve to make Danny rush into the room, possibly with his gun drawn.

 

He felt a soft touch on the back of his head, the bed dipped and arms wrapped around him. A warm body pressed up against his back, chin on his shoulder and he knew it was Danny because he would know the feel of him anywhere.

 

He didn’t ask if he was okay, didn’t say a word. Just sat there and held him and let his thoughts race a mile a minute.

 

Two weeks of daily visits with a therapist, then every other day visits with the therapist and his biological parents and somewhere in there it would be determined whether or not he would be allowed to contact his other parents and normal people didn’t have problems like this.

 

Besides the fact that he wasn’t a child and shouldn’t need to get someone’s permission to speak to his parents and let them know that he was safe and unharmed and had Danny with him so the Fitzgerald’s couldn’t be all that bad, right?

 

“It’s going to be okay,” Danny whispered against his neck, arms wrapped around him tightly, but not tight enough to cause undue pressure against his ribs.

 

Martin snorted; he hadn’t thought he was bad enough that Danny was resorting to attempting to lie to him.

 

“Well maybe not right away,” Danny amended carefully. “But hey, we’ve got a private room, with a lock on the door and they didn’t take the condoms or the lube away so we’ve at least got the possibility of having sex somewhere on the horizon once you stop wincing every time I try to get you on your back.”

 

Martin grinned despite himself and he could feel Danny smile against his neck.

 

“And we’re together,” he said softly, Danny mouthing a kiss along his neck. “Don’t forget that we’re together.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

Therapy was just as invasively horrible as Martin remembered it being. The questions were the same as well, and they wavered between things he had no desire to ever speak of and things that he had no recollection of in the first place.

 

His therapist was a drastic change from the last two just over fifty year old men that he’d had. She was young and cheerful and always seemed to be smiling at him even when he snapped and growled and bared his teeth at her.

 

Danny found that amusing. Martin wasn’t sure why.

 

He knew it was mean and totally uncalled for, she was doing her job to the best of her abilities and if he’d asked her, quite seriously, if she was old enough to actually be attached to the certificate hanging in a place of honor on her wall, she didn’t seem to take it personally.

 

She did continually ask if he was ready for his parents and sister to begin attending sessions with them. At the beginning of each session and he was beginning to rely on that to tell him when they clock started.

 

He didn’t tell her that she’d just said parents and left of the sister part he might have thought she was talking about the Scott’s and relented already.

 

Because the Scott’s were who he thought of as his parents. His mom and his dad and no matter how many times he was reminded that he was Martin Fitzgerald now he still thought of himself as Martin Scott.

 

Mostly because he wasn’t sure how to be Martin Fitzgerald. Wasn’t even sure he wanted to try.

 

Because he was almost sure that being a Fitzgerald meant no Danny and he wasn’t willing to give up Danny for anyone, not even his family.

 

He refused to, Danny had been his rock. Solid and strong, he had run interference with his therapist (Melissa Graves, call me Missy) until she had put her foot down and insisted on one one-hour chat to break through the ice.

 

And by putting her foot down Martin meant that she’d stood outside their door until Danny gave him up and Martin finally relented just so that they could get some sleep.

 

He probably would have just not shown up, but Melissa had invited Danny as well as Danny had never been through therapy before he wanted to go so had dragged Martin along with him.

 

“The sooner we get through the therapy thing the sooner we can go home,” Danny had said.

 

And maybe that was why he loved Danny so much, because it should have been ‘you’ but instead it was ‘we’.

 

Danny didn’t even need to be there. He could have gone home and waited for them to release Martin, but he knew Martin well enough to know that if he had left Martin wouldn’t have been far behind.

 

Against doctors orders or not.

 

It had been three weeks, Martin was mostly, physically healed. But some wounds were harder to close and heal then others.

 

He hadn’t agreed to a joint session with his ‘family’ yet and at some point both Melissa and Danny were going to get tired of waiting.

 

Melissa would apologize but tell him it was for his own good. Danny would tell him to quit being so stubborn, and if they’d done the joint sessions they would be home already dodging phone calls from the Fitzgerald’s.

 

Unfortunately they knew where they lived and where Danny worked but that was there were locks… to keep unwanted, uninvited guests out.

 

Even it they were supposedly family.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Danny was silent when he entered the room.

 

Lately it was uncertain what sort of mood Martin would be in when he returned from his solo therapy sessions.

 

Mostly it would depend on how much Missy had pushed for the Fitzgerald’s. Danny pushed to, but he knew Martin’s limits. Knew that if he pushed to much, to fast that Martin would firmly entrench himself in whatever decision he had made and not waver at all. He could be stubborn that way and Danny wondered who he’d inherited that from.

 

Martin was sitting on the bed, staring out the window, hands moving restlessly against his thighs.

 

Danny touched his shoulder gently, waiting to be either acknowledged or rebuked. Because if it had been a bad enough session that Martin sought solitude instead of Danny sometimes he would pull away.

 

He was gratified to feel Martin lean into his hand. Enough so that he climbed up on the, Martin would yell at him later about not having taken his shoes off first, but for now he settled behind Martin. Legs on either side of his hips, arms wrapped tightly around him.

 

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what had happened.

 

Because something obviously had.

 

He waited in silence, silence that soon seemed oppressive and very not right.

 

Martin would normally have been muttering ‘that woman’ and ‘who does she think she works for anyway, me or them’ by now.

 

The ‘them’ was of course the Fitzgerald’s that Martin hadn’t even spoken to since their move to the private recovery facility.

 

He opened his mouth to say something, anything to break the veil of silence that had fallen and was to quiet.

 

“Tomorrow,” Martin said softly. One word and it was filled with such pain and fear that Danny tightened his arms even more, closed his eyes and rested his chin on Martin’s shoulder.

 

He knew he should tell Martin that he didn’t need to do this if he wasn’t ready. But it was long past time and the longer Martin put it off the harder it was going to be when he finally did it.

 

He could feel Martin trembling in his arms, terrified of speaking to the parents and sister that had waited and searched for so long for him. Danny knew would absolute certainty that there would be no sleep attained that night.

 

“You don’t need to do this,” he whispered. “Not if you aren’t ready.”

 

He had to offer the out, had to make sure that Martin knew that this was his decision, not Danny’s or Missy’s or even the Fitzgerald’s. It was Martin’s and if he chose to change his mind Danny himself would go to Missy and tell her to call it off.

 

The session would do no good if Martin was too terrified to participate in it.

 

“I’m tired Danny, I want to go home.”

 

******************************************************************************

Martin was still awake when the sun rose. He’d closed his eyes at Danny’s insistence but he didn’t think he’d slept more then twenty minutes.

 

Danny had slept, was in fact still sleeping, hand heavy on Martin’s hip. They hadn’t made love since they’d been at the recovery facility.

 

When they’d first arrived Martin had been sore and jumpy and still suffering from internal injuries.

 

When he’d finally healed enough to contemplate it he’d been weirded out by the fact that while their door might have had a lock on it, his doctors, the nurses that manned the front desk and the cleaning crew all had keys to it.

 

Not that anyone would use them, at least that was what they’d insisted when Martin had pushed. Not unless something was wrong and they had no other way to gain access to the room.

 

But the fact that they had the keys and had the option of using them was enough to put a damper on things in Martin’s mind.

 

He felt Danny shift behind him, hand tightening as Danny pressed against him.

 

It would be so easy. They were under covers, Martin was wearing only light sleep pants, Danny a pair of boxers, they could start this morning off on a good note since it was pretty much guaranteed to end on a bad one.

 

“So cold showers again,” Danny sighed, he didn’t sound enthused about the prospect. Hell Martin was enthused about another cold shower, not with Danny warm and willing behind him.

 

But…

 

“Anyone could walk in,” Martin muttered. It was like having a horny Danny at his parents house that first time all over again. Terrified of his parents knowing what they were doing, even though they had to have known they were having sex because they’d let them stay in the same room.

 

“No one has walked through that door without first knocking on it,” Danny growled. Martin turned on his back to stare up at him. Obviously the lack of sex was wearing on Danny’s nerves because that had sounded downright snippy.

 

“Exactly, our luck has been too good. It’s bound to change the minute we try something different,” Martin explained. Even to his ears it sounded weak and his hormones as well as other parts of his body were screaming at him to stop being an idiot.

 

Danny laughed at him, kissed him roughly. Lips moving over his possessively, tongue invading his mouth and Martin forgot what his objections were supposed to be.

 

This was a bad idea why?

 

When Danny released him he was breathless and panting, sprawled across Danny’s chest while Danny was leering up at him, hands inside his pants clutching at his ass and grinding them together.

 

Martin managed to frown down at him but it was hard what with the fact that he was moving in motion with Danny and most definitely sending mixed signals.

 

“No fair seducing me with your kisses.”

 

“I tried to seduce you with my naked body but you just turned bright red and barricaded yourself in the bathroom for two hours. I’m still not sure how you managed that, that door doesn’t even have any way to lock it,” Danny eyed him like he was waiting for Martin to spill his guts and Martin stared back at him and kept his mouth shut, wondering what he would have to do to convince Danny to kiss him like that again.

 

He liked privacy when he was in the bathroom, if he told Danny how he’d secured the door then Danny would figure out a way around it and then Martin would have Danny perched on the tub while Martin was on the toilet and that was just plain disturbing.

 

There should be some acts that are still private.

 

Besides the fact that the image of Danny perching on the tub was way to similar to his mom perching on the tub because Martin had been afraid that their old claw-footed bathtub would turn into an alligator and eat him.

 

He’d been five at the time and had, admittedly, quite an active imagination.

 

“Martin?” Danny’s voice was soft, his hands gentle against his face, (when had they moved? Martin didn’t recall) from the edge of worry he’d said Martin’s name more than once.

 

Martin smiled at him, it was a weak one but Danny was obviously giving him points for effort and he returned it gently. Like Martin was fragile and he didn’t want to spook him by showing to many teeth.

 

“I was just thinking about the tub at my parents.”

 

“You mean the one with the claw feet that you thought was going to turn into a crocodile…”

“Alligator,” Martin corrected, Danny rolled his eyes at him.

 

“… alligator and eat you?”

 

Martin could feel himself flushing, skin burning hot. “I wish I’d never introduced you to my parents.”

 

“You don’t mean that,” Danny wrapped his arms around him and Martin realized that he was still lying on top of him. He wondered if Danny would move him before oxygen became an issue or if he would be explaining to someone how he hadn’t meant to kill his boyfriend but that Danny had never told him that he couldn’t breathe.

 

“I don’t?”

 

“No, because if you hadn’t introduced me to your parents they would still be trying to fix you up with every pretty girl that they met at the grocery store. And then I’d have to harm people. You wouldn’t want me to have to hurt people, would you Martin?”

 

Martin smiled at him, leaned down to kiss then glanced at the clock, groaned at the time and rolled off of him.

 

“We should take showers and get dressed. We’re supposed to be in Melissa’s office at ten.”

 

“We?” Danny rolled onto his side, propped himself up on one arm and ran the other hand across Martin’s back. He’d been wearing a t-shirt when they’d gone to bed, it was one of the reasons that Martin figured he had to have at least dozed at one point because he didn’t remember Danny removing it.

 

“Melissa said I could bring you if I wanted, for moral support so…” Martin shrugged helplessly. He didn’t think he could do this unless Danny was next to him, lending him quiet strength.

 

“Well we should get ready then,” Danny smirked at him. “If we take a shower together we can save time.”

 

Martin stared at him doubtfully.

 

“Can you keep your hands to yourself? Because the last time we tried to have shower sex we almost killed each other.”

 

Danny smiled innocently at him. “I promise nothing.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

Danny wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand the silence.

 

He wasn’t sure how much longer the Fitzgerald’s and Melissa could handle it. Or would allow it to go on.

 

Martin on the other hand seemed to be having no problems at all with the silence. He hadn’t made eye contact with anyone in the room besides Danny since they’d sat down.

 

Martin choosing the one seat that would put the Fitzgerald’s on the opposite side of the room and force Danny to sit so close to him that he could feel his body heat. Not that he minded.

 

Not in the least.

 

It was just the seat that Martin had chosen was a loveseat that had obviously not been designed for two grown men to sit together on, they were wedged in it so tightly that they’d have to stand at the same exact moment or they’d never be able to get up.

 

Of course if Martin’d had his way he would have sat in the hallway while the meeting was held.

 

They’d been sitting in an increasingly uncomfortable silence for going on ten minutes. Obviously the Fitzgerald’s and Melissa wanted to allow Martin to be the one to direct how this first initial meeting was going to go.

 

From the way Martin wanted the meeting to go Danny wouldn’t be surprised if they sat there for the hour in complete and utter silence.

 

Because Martin was making no attempt to say anything or to even looking like he was contemplating speaking, instead he was rubbing his hands against jeans and staring at his knees like they were the most fascinating thing that he’d ever seen.

 

Victor cleared his throat and Danny looked over at him.

 

He was staring at Martin with wide eyes and an expression that managed to convey a slew of emotions that Danny honestly hadn’t even been sure that Victor could feel.

 

Fear was the most prevalent and Danny knew that it was fear that Martin might not accept them.

 

Might not be able to accept them.

 

He wasn’t a child any longer, wasn’t a four year old boy that idolized his father and loved his mother and sister with all the fierceness of a child’s love.

 

Danny touched Martin’s back, he could feel the slight trembling which never seemed to ease. Made a mental note to offer a backrub later because Martin was holding himself so stiffly he was going to need it in order to relax.

 

“I thought maybe we could spend this first meeting just getting to know each other,” Melissa’s voice was soft. Probably so as to not startle Martin who looked as if he was ten seconds from bolting.

 

Danny glanced over at her and knew that this meeting was going the way that she’d intended. He didn’t know what to tell her, Martin could be stubborn. Obviously something that was both a genetic trait from Victor and something that he learned at the knee of Paul growing up.

 

Martin cleared his throat and Danny, as well as everyone else, looked over at him.

 

He’d honestly thought that Martin would not be able to participate in any way.

 

“I just…” Martin trailed off, his voice was so quiet that even Danny, who was sitting next to him, had to strain to hear him.

 

“Martin?” Melissa kept her tone even and gentle. Coaxing almost, Danny rubbed his hand in small circles against Martin’s back and debated putting a stop to this.

 

Martin was doing this, had agreed to this meeting because he wanted to go home. But Danny wasn’t willing to put anymore stress on him than Martin was already feeling.

 

“I just… I don’t know what you want from me,” Martin said softly, he stared at his knees. Didn’t make eye contact with anyone, not even him. Danny laid a hand over his, squeezing tightly. To remind Martin that he was there.

 

Victor leaned forward in his chair, Janice on one side, his wife Clarice on the other, he stared intently at Martin.

 

“We just want a chance to get to know you, spend time with you. You’re our son, our family.”

 

Martin nodded slowly, swallowing audibly, turned his hand over under Danny’s and laced their fingers together.

 

“I have a family,” he stated. Firmly and with a resolve that Danny hadn’t heard in a long while.

 

Victor started sharply and Danny was sure that he would have retorted angrily that the Scott’s were not Martin’s family if Clarice hadn’t grabbed his arm. Danny was sure she was digging nails into Victor’s arm because the older man winced and silenced.

 

“We know that,” her voice was cultured and smooth. This was a woman that had been born and raised with money.

 

Danny couldn’t help but wonder how different Martin would have been raised and turned out if he hadn’t been kidnapped as a child and raised by a family without the money and privilege that he would have been afforded as a Fitzgerald.

 

“I want to see them,” Martin said. “They’ve done nothing wrong but take in a lost child and raise him to the best of their ability.”

 

“Martin…” Janice this time and it didn’t surprise Danny that the entire Fitzgerald clan would have to speak up about Martin’s relationship with the Scott’s.

 

Martin looked up finally, making eye contact for the first time since they’d entered the room.

 

And maybe some things were hereditary. Because Martin’s voice when he spoke was hard as steel and brooked no disagreement.

 

“This is not negotiable.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

“Well that could have gone better,” Danny said as they entered their room. Martin sighed and flopped down on the bed. Staring at the ceiling and wondering if there was a way to have made this entire day not happen.

 

He’d hurt the Fitzgerald’s, he’d could see that. His insistence that he be allowed contact (he was an adult, had been for a number of years and there was absolutely no reason that he should be needing to ask permission to see anybody) with the Scott’s had wounded them but Martin had seen no way around it.

 

He refused to give up his parents just because he’d been found by his biological family.

 

They’d just have to work out some sort of arrangement that allowed him to keep both.

 

“I thought it went okay,” Martin muttered. He was lying through his teeth and Danny knew it from the sound of his laugh.

 

He closed his eyes and felt Danny drop onto the bed, crawling up the length of Martin’s body. Knees on either side of his hips and he smiled as Danny dropped a kiss on the tip of his nose.

 

“You were in the same meeting I was weren’t you?” Danny brushed their noses together.

 

“You know I was.”

 

“Then you should know that when one half of the party bursts into tears and another one actually gets up and walks out… that’s not a good thing.”

 

Martin winced. Because while Victor might have remained stoic and silent after Martin’s declaration, Janice had burst into tears and Clarice had collected her purse and her jacket and stalked out of the room without saying another word.

 

“I was supposed to be honest and forthright about my feelings and opinions.”

 

“There’s being honest and then there’s being a bit cruel,” Danny shifted to his side, one leg laying over his and one arm resting against his chest. “They’re your family Martin, right now that doesn’t mean much because they’re being a bit forceful about making you accept that fact instead of giving you time to come to terms with what that means on your own.”

 

Martin leaned his head against Danny’s, closed his eyes.

 

“I just…” he mumbled and he felt Danny shift next to him slightly. Silent while he waited for Martin to say something more. “I’m an adult you know, I’m not that four year old child and I just feel like…”

 

“Martin?”

 

“I feel like this is going to devolve into a custody battle and I’m not a child. I’m an adult and I can make my own decisions and I just want…”

 

“You want what?” Danny asked when Martin fell silent for longer than what he probably felt necessary.

 

“I want to be treated like an adult, like the decisions and opinions that I have matter. I want them to realize that I can make my own decisions and I want them to give me time to deal with all this without everyone looking over my shoulder waiting for me to denounce my parents.”

 

Danny shifted again, hands pulling him into Danny’s arms and he laid his head against his shoulder and kept his eyes closed.

 

Maybe if he kept them closed long enough he could open them again and this would all have been some sadistic nightmare.

 

“I don’t think they’re going to give me that time, are they.”

 

Danny kissed his forehead, arms tightening around him.

 

“No, I don’t think they are,” he murmured against Martin’s skin and Martin hitched a breath. “But at least they’ll let us go home now.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

Martin was sleeping, heavy and warm against his side when the door pushed open. Janice’s head pushing around the corner and she must be getting kind of annoyed that every time she tried to talk to her brother he was sleeping or having some sort of mental break and having to be sedated.

 

Though granted the last one had only happened the one time and Martin blamed in entirely on the stress of the day which Danny was inclined to agree with mostly because Martin was already pissed at a good amount of people and Danny kind of wanted to not add himself to that list.

 

“He’s sleeping?” she didn’t sound surprised or disappointed and Danny narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously.

 

“What are you doing here?” he cut right to the chase; Martin had taken a pill and would sleep until either the drugs wore off or Danny gave him some really good incentive to wake up.

 

Last time he’d had to wake him up it had been a blowjob and they’d almost been late to dinner, which had been the reason Danny was waking him up in the first place, because Martin had tried to reciprocate.

 

If he hadn’t had clumsy hands and been drowsy as hell, Danny might have allowed it. But he liked all his bits and pieces exactly where they were.

 

So he’d pushed Martin onto his back and hovered over him while he’d jerked himself off. All the while watching Martin watch him with half-lidded eyes that screamed ‘fuck me now’ and he’d been half-tempted to take Martin’s eyes up on the offer.

 

Instead he’d hustled them into a shower and they’d made it to dinner ten minutes before the dining hall closed.

 

Janice flopped down in a chair and sighed. Ran a hand over her face and sighed again.

 

“I’ve talked to my dad,” she started. Stopping and looking at Martin. Even though he and Martin were lying on the bed together Danny knew that Janice was looking at her brother and not him.

 

He didn’t interest her. Her brother did.

 

“About?” Danny prompted. Because if Victor had sent Janice in here to tell them that because the session hadn’t gone well that he was going to fight them leaving for New York then Danny might have to have Jack send him his gun so he could threaten people.

 

He didn’t like feeling like they were being held hostage.

 

Janice cleared her throat and Danny was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

 

“My dad’s called the Scotts, they’re…” her voice broke and it hit Danny suddenly that for the Fitzgerald’s, the fact that Martin was fighting having any sort of tie with them, it must be painful. Especially after having searched for him for so long.

 

“We’re not going to keep them away any longer,” she breathed, a deep exhale and Danny looked over at her.

 

“Thank you,” Danny said softly and she smiled at him. A watery smile, eyes still filled with tears that hadn’t yet spilled over.

 

“Martin was right in there,” she reached over to the box of tissues that was kept stocked on the dresser. Dabbed at her eyes and regained her composure, Danny blinked and she was a Fitzgerald again.

 

Cool, calm, collected.

 

The only sign that she’d even, possibly contemplated tears was the hint of redness around her eyes.

 

“I’ll be sure to tell him that,” Danny smirked. Trying to keep things light. Regardless of what Martin thought or said. The Fitzgerald’s were his family, and one day he would be comfortable having ties with them and spending time with them and Danny didn’t want to be the reason why they couldn’t get along.

 

“The Scott’s took in a child, one who needed a home and loved him. I think my dad…”

 

“Not your mother?”

 

Janice laughed a harsh laugh. “My mother believes that if we continue with therapy and keep the Scott’s away that Martin will come around, that he’ll accept us.”

 

“He’ll accept you faster if you give him some space to deal with everything.”

 

Janice smiled wryly. “I think dad and I have finally figured that out. We’re not usually so hard-headed. It’s just… it’s been so many years and I think we all had this vision of how the reunion was going to go when we found him and this… wasn’t it.”

 

“That’s not Martin’s fault,” Danny said.

 

“I know, I think we all know that. Eventually my mother will admit that she realizes that and take a step back or possibly a valium.”

 

She stood and walked over to the bed, touched Martin’s hair and bent down to kiss him on the forehead.

 

“He’s my brother you know,” she whispered, tears in her eyes again.

 

“I know,” Danny said softly, he reached out and squeezed her hand. He wished he could tell her that everything would work out, that they would go home and Martin would accept them as his family and that they’d have family barbecues and both the Scott’s and the Fitzgerald’s would be there and happily share Martin between them.

 

But he couldn’t.

 

“Take care of him?”

 

“Always.”