Captive *Complete*

Chapter Five

Liam Black and Ethan Miller.

Liam rubbed the nape of his neck absently, then sighed when his husband's fingers replaced his own.

"Careful, or you'll put me to sleep." He told him wryly.

"You need to sleep," Tyler replied while planting a soft kiss on his nape. "By my count, you've been up for forty-eight hours at least."

"I took a nap earlier, remember?"

"Twenty minutes, maybe. Not nearly enough."

"I am okay,"

"No, you aren't. You're never okay when one of your chicks is out of the nest."

A little laugh escaped him. "One of my chicks? I think there is a better nickname for a six-foot-four-inch detective. And I think he'd think so too."

Tyler came around the desk and rested a hip on the corner so he could face him. They were in Liam’s office.

"Your friends are all your chicks, especially when one comes up missing."

"He should have checked in by now. He should have checked in hours ago."

"Given the terrain, I doubt he could get a signal out." Tyler paused and asked deliberately. "Are you sure that it's the only thing that's bothering you?"

Liam frowned. "I do feel guilty for sending him there without filling him in about that guy. And now, he didn't contact us. . .What if that psycho killed him? What if the plan didn't work and we don't get anyone from there alive?"

". . .At first, I believed George when he said that the killer wouldn't harm Ethan, since he was stalking him for quite some time."

"He's fine," Tyler stated firmly. "I am sure of it. If that guy wanted to kill him, he would've done it a long time ago, but he chose not to for a reason. Ethan is the key to catch that killer alive."

"I don't really know. It's just I am sensing a vague feeling that something is wrong."

"It was a simple enough assignment," Tyler said, in a thoughtful tone. "Granted, our information put his target deep in the middle of nowhere but hiking there and finding him shouldn't have been much trouble for Ethan, considering his tracking and survival skills. All he had to do was to track and report back. We inform George of the location of their escaped fugitive, and our job will be done. The SCU can go in and get him."

"Yeah." Liam was still frowning.

"What?"

"Well, there are reports of survivalist and militia groups in that wilderness. Very incredible reports. Some of the groups have been up there for years, and they aren't just unwelcoming to visitors; they're actively hostile."

"Ethan has too much experience not to be able to avoid that kind of potential trouble."

"I know, I know. But I wish now I hadn't sent him in alone."

"One man alone, skilled and accustomed to rough terrains, could cover the distance faster and get in and out with the least chance of being detected. We agreed, and so did Ethan."

He nodded. "Yeah, it makes perfect tactical sense. . .I just still have that nagging feeling about how he was able to escape? A feeling that there is much more we aren't aware of."

Tyler knew that his husband was right. They knew a little about this killer, not enough reasons why he should be kept alive.

"Why don't we give a call to George?"

Liam knew it wasn't much of a question than a statement. He reached over for the phone, pressing the well-remembered digits.

"Liam?"

"You're on speaker," Liam told him. "I'm here with Tyler. Sorry to call so late. Although I have no idea whether it's late where you are."

Being George, he didn't answer the implied question. "Let me guess, Ethan hasn't checked in."

"Yes," Liam said with a sigh, and Tyler added. "Also, we want to know more about that fugitive."

A sigh could be heard from the other end. "I told you everything that you need to know."

Tyler placed both palms on the desk and glared at the phone. "An Ex-Special Crimes Unit agent with a vendetta is hardly a piece of information. Telling us that Ethan’s father is the reason behind this man's killing spree, is not enough, George."

Liam placed his hand on his husband's arm to calm him.

"He is right, George. We had just risked our best friend's life into the wilderness, in a quest of looking for someone who has some kind of blood feud with his father."

There was a long pause before George spoke. "Whatever is discussed now, It should never leave the room."

Liam dumbly nodded, forgetting that George couldn't see him, before muttering 'okay'.

"So, what are your questions?"

Ethan stared back at the spitting image of the girl in his dream and contemplated if he should ask him if he had a sister. Maybe she was the one Wyatt and that guy Luke were talking about.

Wyatt sighed and looked down.

"I see that you don't have any questions for me, so I'll leave."

"What do you need me for?"

Ethan cut him off, and Wyatt raised his eyebrow inquisitively.

"It's really obvious that you need me for something, that's why you kept me alive."

Wyatt stood up and sat on the bed next to him, which made Ethan shift away a bit. The slight movement didn't go unnoticed by his captor, who smirked.

"Why does someone hold anyone captive? Ethan, you're a leverage that I will use to get the truth out."

"What truth are you talking about?"

"Something that you are a major witness of."

Ethan waited for him to elaborate and didn't register the tender contact when Wyatt brushed his cheek with his hand that until he felt its warmth.

"You had some breadcrumbs there," Wyatt told him and kept his hand on his cheek, brushing his thumb over the corner of his mouth and staring intently at him with a look Ethan couldn't comprehend.

He as well was so caught in the moment that he felt himself leaning forward towards those pulp lips. He watched how Wyatt’s icily blue orbs glued on his lips as well, wetting his own in anticipation. Ethan’s breath hitched as well awaiting the tender contact, which was severed when Wyatt moved his hand away and stood up.

He cleared his throat and looked back at Ethan.

"Try to rest for now, and I'll come later to check on you."

Ethan nodded in a haze. He still couldn't believe what he was about to do. If Wyatt didn't move away, he would have kissed him. He would have felt those luscious lips.

He couldn't grasp why would he even consider kissing a man; not just any man, but an escaped felon who he was meant to help capture.

What was so alluring about him?

He leaned down on the soft pillow and stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours, pondering on why this man has so much influence on him. His eyes started to get heavy, overcame with exhaustion, and he drifted to la-la land.

He woke up by some bright lights that blinded his vision. The beeping of the machines and the disturbing sound of the respiratory machine, unsettled him. People in white lab coats were surrounding him.

He moaned and groaned, feeling some sharp pain in his chest. One of the nurses noticed him, and she hurried by his side. She took away the respiratory mask and smiled at him cheerfully.

"Welcome back." She told him while holding a glass filled with an orange liquid. "Here, drink this to ease your words out."

He nodded, still wary about his surroundings, and with her help, he gulped the sweet liquid that lessened his throat.

"Where is dad?" His voice was still groggy, but it didn't hurt as much as he thought it would.

"Dr. Miller is on his way. I have just paged him." He nodded again and tried to sit up, so she assisted him by lifting the pillow behind him to support his back. "So, how are you feeling?"

"A bit of pain here." He placed his hand on his chest and felt the outline of a bandage near his heart. He frowned, recalling that he had to do the operation to replace his malfunctioning heart. He rubbed the bandage, contemplating on the fact that he had a stranger's heart inside his chest.

"Here," The kind nurse handed him some pills and a glass of water. "Some painkillers." She clarified.

He took the two pills and gulped the water to ease them down his throat. He gave her a shaky smile.

"Do you know who this belonged to?"

He pointed to his heart and watched how her face paled. She tried hard to keep the smile but to no avail.

"It belonged to a sweet girl." She went on with a smile and a faraway look. "She was a happy and hyperactive girl who everyone grew to love-" Her eyes widen a bit in sudden realization "-I mean, that's what we were told. . .Anyway, I have to go. If you need anything, just push this button."

He brushed off the nervousness of the nurse as the discomfort of talking about the dead and gave her a curt nod.

He was left alone with his thoughts. He remembered Janey and wondered if she was alright. She must've been here for an operation as well. He wondered if she had one and if it was as successful as his, hopefully, was.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a loud angry scream, a voice of a boy calling someone a murderer. He watched through the small window of the door how two men in guard uniforms rushing towards the commotion.

"You killed her! You killed her, you asshole!" He heard the boy yell, trashing and knocking something down in a loud thud. "Let me go. Let me go! I will kill you! I swear on it!" He sobbed, and it made Ethan's heart ache.

"I will." He heard the boy whisper; then it turned quiet. Eerily quiet. The only sound that could be heard was someone heavily panting.

Another voice asked about where to take him, and then Ethan heard his father's voice.

"Take him to the operation room and restrain him."

His father's tone of voice was short of breath but calm, and it brought an uneasy shiver through his body.

He didn't have time to register or think about anything, as the latter opened the door with a cheerful smile as if nothing had ever happened in that hallway. He had a bruise on his cheekbone that was grazed in a small cut, brimmed with blood. As he was about to close the door, he saw the men carrying a teenage boy with ebony black hair that covered his face. The only thing showing was a pair of pink lips that were parted for air.

He jolted awake and screamed in agony when he hit his foot on the nearby table in the process.

He was all sweaty and heavily panting. The dream or memory was still vivid, rewinding in his mind.

The door flung open, and Wyatt looked at him concerned. He turned on the oil lamp since it was getting dark in the room.

"Are you alright? What happened?"

Ethan has never felt so fragile in his life as this moment. He was still shaking, knowing that those lips he saw, that unconscious boy from his dream, was Wyatt. His eyes brimmed with tears remembering what Wyatt was yelling and wailing about in his dream. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he and Janey were related. It didn't need elaboration to know that Wyatt was crying about his sister's death.

"Ethan?" Wyatt’s expressionless face held worry and hurt this time. Still, Ethan didn't respond.

Janey must have died during her operation, that's why Wyatt was crying and screaming bloody revenge. He probably blamed his father for the failure of the operation. Maybe that was the reason he was holding him captive, he thought.

Maybe he wanted to kill me as a vendetta against my dad.

"Ethan," Wyatt’s voice cracked. They locked eyes, exchanging stories and emotions without uttering words, and almost yelped in surprise when Wyatt pulled him for a needed hug. He felt himself melt in the warmth as he hid his face in the nook of his neck. Smelling that beautiful scent of vanilla and sandal that was assuring. He felt his trembling calm down, and his tense body relaxed.

Hugging his soon to be killer wasn't something planned, but he needed comfort after that horrible memory, and he knew that Wyatt needed it as well.

His captor pulled away and gave him the same weird look that Ethan couldn't get its meaning. He bit his lower lip nervously and took a large intake of breath. He cupped Ethan’s neck and leaned in, capturing his lips in a longing, soft, and gentle kiss.

Ethan’s eyes widened in surprise, and his heartbeats increased. He watched the desperation that overwhelmed Wyatt’s eyes when he pulled away, breathing harshly against his lips.

Ethan licked his own, savoring the taste, and when Wyatt wanted to move away with a saddened gaze, he didn't know what got him to do it. He pulled him back for another kiss that expressed all their anguish, despair, and hurt. He Held his hand across his chest. Wyatt’s hand slid across his neck. His touch feathery soft, sending a shiver that traveled down Ethan’s spine into his throbbing legs.

He watched Wyatt close his eyes, pressing his lips harder on his own, deepening the kiss. Ethan tugged Wyatt’s silky raven black hair and heard him grunt against his lips. He felt his tongue swipe against his lips, and he granted him access on which Wyatt dominated his mouth, turning the kiss more passionate.

Ethan could feel Wyatt’s heart slamming against his palm, and he could smell his breath and feel the stubble on his upper lip, a harsh contrast to the softness of his lips. He knew his heartbeat as well was racing crazily, immersing in the blissful feeling.