Someone asked for something along these lines and because I have this stupid called love for you, I wrote it. 🙄

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Donovan first became conscious of the hard, cold concrete surface beneath him. The second was the heaviness in his limbs. The third was the absence of sound all around him. The fourth was the unease in the pit of his stomach.

Slowly, he pried his eyes open, blinking into the dim light. The only source of illumination was a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. With its help, he was able to make out a square room entirely made out of concrete with only a single metal table on one side. It could be nothing other than a bad sign.

As his grogginess wore off, he pushed himself into a sitting position, working to connect the events that got him here. Before he could work through anything, he heard a soft groan behind him. He twisted around and his heart sank.

Carter lay on the floor.

Wincing at the stiffness in his muscles, Donovan crawled over to her. He pushed back her hair and cupped her face, looking for signs of abuse. When he found none he let out a breath.

"Carter," he whispered.

She stirred but didn't open her eyes.

"Carter, wake up."

With what looked like all the strength she had, Carter opened her eyes. They were unfocused and Donovan didn't know if she even registered that he was there. Whatever dosage of knock out drug he had been given, he guessed she had been given the same. He was lucky the high amount hadn't killed her. 

"Hey," he said, caressing her cheek, willing her to stay with him. "I'm right here."

"Don..."

Her eyes closed again and her head lulled to the side. Lifting her into his arms, Donovan sank onto the ground, pushing his back against the wall, holding Carter close to him. Her head dropped onto his shoulder and her breath brushed against his neck making him realize how cold it was in their prison.

"You gotta stay with me, Carter," he said, tightening his grip, willing his warmth to help rouse her. "We're going to get out of this."

He had no idea how. He didn't know where they were. The last thing he could remember was playing a barman at the Phoenix Club, mixing drinks, Carter acting as a server, and then nothing. As far as he could tell their cover had been blown. He didn't want to think what it meant that they had been kept alive. He knew what was coming.

In response to his dark thoughts, he kissed Carter's head fearing the future.

"We're going to get out of this," he said.

"Donovan..."

He peered down at her, watching as she tilted her head back to look at him. Her eyes were more focused but he could see how the drug was still keeping her strength at bay.

"It's going to be okay," he said.

Carter blinked. "Liar."

Despite it all, Donovan couldn't help but chuckle. "You just need to stay with me."

"I don't ever plan...on leaving you."

Fear coursed through Donovan as he stared into the eyes that he knew better than his own. He wasn't going to be able to face torture with Carter here, knowing that she would hear what was happening to him. He couldn't bear the thought of her being hurt. He didn't know how they were going to do this.

He pulled her back to him, needing to sit in the moment of delusional comfort for just a moment. To feel her arms wrap around him. To smell her hair and breath in all that she was.

Their time ended when there came the thumping of footsteps.

Donovan pulled back from Carter and held her face. "I love you. Whatever happens, you need to remember that and you need to be brave."

Carter tensed, and he could see the memories of pain rising to the surface. She had already faced torture before and Donovan was going to do everything in his power to make sure she didn't face it again.

As a door on the far side of the room was unlocked, Donovan scrambled to hold onto their final moment.

The door opened and three men walked in lead by a man who had been their target for the last four months: Andrew Carver. After the two men set down chairs, Andrew motioned to them.

"Tie them up," he said.

The men approached Donovan and he held fast to Carter knowing there was no way he could fight them, his muscles were still weak and Carter was barely able to hold herself up. Still, when one of the men took Carter from his grasp, Donovan lunged at the second, grabbing his legs and taking him down.

As he went to snatch the man's gun, a fist came out of nowhere and slammed into his face. Stars exploded in his vision and he slumped. When he was able to focus, he found that he had been hauled up and set in one of the chairs.

Beside him, Carter was in the second chair, head drooping to one side. She was so weak they hadn't bothered to secure her ankles, only tied her hands together at the back of the chair. For Donovan, they tied his wrists and ankles to the chair. He struggled but it was pointless, he wasn't going anywhere.

Andrew nodded to two of the men and they left, closing the door behind them as the other guard took up a position along the wall. For a minute, the mob boss eyed Donovan then glanced at Carter. When she remained semi-conscious, he dismissed her.

"Special agent Donovan Keller," Andrew said. His soft voice belied the murderer he was. "I must say you play a role well."

Donovan held the man's gaze, hating every aspect of his existence.

"If it weren't for the informant you turned against me and which I discovered I might have never known." He smiled like they were sharing a joke. "It's so hard to find people you trust nowadays, isn't it?"

Donovan didn't respond, this man was enjoying some sick game and he wasn't going to play along. When Donovan didn't so much as blink at the man, Andrew's amusement hardened.

"I took you to be a smart man and so I'm sure you understand what comes next."

Again Donovan didn't respond, even though he did know. Andrew waved to the guard and he laid out a selection of menacing tools. Donavon flexed his jaw, preparing himself.

"You, Mr. Keller are going to tell me everything I want to know."

"You understand that I won't talk," he said. "There will be no point because, in the end, you will kill me all the same."

Andrew nodded. "True, but I believe I can make you tell me all that I want to know."

"He won't."

Carter's voice was so quiet that it took everyone a minute to realize that she had spoken at all. When Andrew slowly set his gaze on her, fear and panic seared through Donovan. He could not let this man focus on Carter.

"What did you say, my dear?" Andrew said.

Carter twisted her face so she could look up at Andrew. "He won't tell...you anything. No matter what you do. You might as well...kill us both now."

Again her voice was weak, hardly above a whisper.

Andrew cocked his head, amused and calculating. "Is that so?"

Carter dropped her head, all her energy spent. Donovan strained against the ropes, wanting to get to her, needing to protect her. Andrew looked to Donovan.

"She seems so certain that you won't talk."

"I won't," Donovan said, needing to keep Andrew's attention away from Carter.

Andrew whipped out a gun and had it pointed at Carter's head so fast that Donovan didn't even have time to suck in a breath.

"Don't!" He shouted. "Don't you dare! If you're going to kill anyone kill me! Let her go. She doesn't know anything! Shoot me!" 

It wasn't hard to hear the panic in Donovan's voice. He knew he was giving away his heart but he couldn't let Carter die. Couldn't bear to see her ripped from his life. He would do anything to avoid that fate, even if it meant the end of his life.

Andrew smiled with pleasure. "Ah, that's what I thought. This is the way to the truth."

Donovan was struggling so hard against the ropes that his wrists were turning raw but he didn't care, didn't feel it, he needed to break free. Needed to get out for Carter.

"Donovan," Carter said. "I need to tell...you something."

He looked at her, how hunched she was, how she couldn't lift her head to look at him. He couldn't let this happen. He needed to do something. He needed to save her.

Andrew seemed amused by Carter's words.

"I hate your oatmeal," she said.

That froze Donovan as well as Andrew. They both stared at Carter in complete confusion.

"What?" Donovan asked.

Carter rolled her head, meeting his gaze. "I'm going to die. I wanted you to know that I hate...your oatmeal. You don't know how to cook it right. It tastes...awful and watery."

Andrew chuckled, amused by the strange confession. He looked at Donovan. "No words of love for you it seems."

In the breath in which Andrew was distracted, Carter sprung from her chair, ripped the gun from his hand, cracked it across his face, and fired on s at the guard. In less than a second, the guard was disabled and Andrew was unconscious.

Carter dropped to her knees, the spike of adrenaline gone, leaving her as weak as before. She held the gun towards the door waiting, arms trembling. When the second pair of guards didn't charge in, she collapsed to all fours.

"Carter," Donovan said, almost speechless at how fast she had moved.

Shaking with fatigue, she inched her way over to him. Using his chair as support, she raised herself up and sawed at the ropes on his wrist with her knife.

It was the same knife that had been sewn into the back of her bra. The one Donovan had located and given to her a second before the men had entered the room. The one she had been using all this time to cut at the bindings on her hands.

With Donovan's hand freed, she fell to the floor. Donovan took the knife and finished the rest of the job of freeing himself. Unbound, he used the cords to tie Andrew's hands and ankles. He knelt beside Carter, holding the back of her head. She blinked up at him.

"I love you," she said. "In case you weren't sure."

He laughed and kissed her.
"I'll be back."

Hating to leave her, but needing to, he crept to the door. When the second set of guards hadn't entered the room, Donovan guessed that the thick door and concrete had dulled the sound. At the door, he raised the gun, adrenaline flooding his veins. He flung it open and fired at the two guards waiting there. They dropped to the floor clenching their bleeding wounds and Donovan held his position, waiting for reinforcements to come charging towards him.

But when the concrete stairwell remained empty, he edged forward, training the gun upward. Cautiously, he climbed to the next floor, swiveling this way and that as he went, searching. Where they had been taken was an abandoned factory in the middle of nowhere as it seemed.

As Donovan was about to check the perimeter, he heard the blare of sirens and distance shots fired. Relieved, he rushed back to the basement. Carter was still laying on her side and Donovan scooped her up, kissing her face over and over again.

"I take it we're going to make it out of this one?" she asked, eyes closed.

Donovan dropped into one of the chairs, weary. "We are."

The pounding of boots echoed throughout the factory and Donovan waited, clutching Carter close to him. The image of a gun pointed at her head replayed in his mind over and over again. He would never forget the terror he felt at seeing that. He kissed her again as if that could help stop the replay in his head.

The first agent that came down the stairs was familiar. Brock lifted his visors and shook his head.

"I feel like we've already done this before?" he said as other agents spread out behind him. "But the last time it was at a school."

Donovan offered his brother a half-smile, closing his eyes and resting his head on Carter's. That world seemed like it was a lifetime ago and yet nothing had changed. He still held the girl he loved in his arms and feared for what could happen to her.

"Area secure. I have agents Keller and Owens," Brock said into a mic.

At Donovan's feet, Andrew moaned and Brock stared down at the man, hatred burning in his eyes. Brock yanked the man to his feet, making Andrew grimace.

"I'm going to take care of this piece of-"

"I hate you both!"

The exclamation came from the stairwell and a moment later Mason came storming into sight. Carter lifted her head and Donovan raised his eyebrows as Mason stopped before them glaring.

"Do either of you know how difficult it was to find you!" he said.

Carter looked at Donovan. "Is it just me or does Mason sound like he was worried?"

Mason flicked his hand. "Don't flatter yourself. I only worried that the Bureau would fire me because they thought I lost you."

Carter dropped her head back to Donovan's shoulder. "Yeah, he was worried."

"I would agree," Donovan said.

Mason shook his head. "Like I said, I hate you both."

He spun around and left the room followed by Brock, who was roughly pulled Andrew along. Donovan stood, still holding Carter. She wrapped her arms around his neck, accepting his support.

"You know what I think?" she said.

"That I need to learn how to make oatmeal?" Donovan asked.

"Yes, but more than that. I think we need a vacation."

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*sits unmoving, staring at you 😳*

I know, I can be unnerving at times, it's a true talent. 💁‍♀️

Here you go, here is the general area where you can dump your thoughts and anything else you might want to. 💬🗯💭🔫

Why did I write this? I don't know. I don't even think I realize I'm writing these when I'm writing them. Okay, I know I'm writing them but where they come from, why they come, where are they going (cotton-eyed Joe) I just don't know anymore. I'll get a single thought and pop! The whole thing forms in my head.

Sometimes it comes from what you say...no scratch that the majority of the time they come from what you say. What can I say your my muse! For part of the time, don't get ahead of yourself.

Vote, blah blah blah

Can you tell I'm in a very 🤪 mood?

Good! 😎 I pulled it off chill. I was worried my oddness was showing for a second there.