Taken

A couple suggestions smashed together. Have fun!


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A soft buzzing sound stirred Carter from her sleep. Propping herself up on her elbow, she grabbed her phone and squinted at the bright screen. Flopping back onto her pillow, she answered.


"Hello?" she said, one arm flung over her eyes.


"Carter Owens."


The voice was deep and controlled, like a building storm.


"Yes?" Carter felt on the verge of falling back asleep, the sheets warm and inviting.


"We have Donovan Keller."


Carter shot upright, her mind spiked with adrenaline as her heart stopped. In the background, she heard a familiar voice.


"Let go of me."


The protest was followed by an impact and a grunt of pain. Carter's hand flew to her mouth, her emotions a riot in her chest. Her mind was scrambling to come together, the shock of what was happening distorting everything.


"What are you willing to do for your partner, Agent Owens?" the voice on the other line said.


Carter closed her eyes and leaned her head against her hand. She hated how even though they weren't married, Donovan was the thing that could be used against her.


"Anything," she breathed out.


"Good. Then here is what you are going to do for us."


As he explained the impossible, Carter focused on breathing, slowing her pounding heart, stilling the chaos in her mind.


"Do you understand?"


"I do. Can I please speak with him?" she asked.


There was a pause then a low murmur of voices.


"Carter, I'm...fine," Donovan said, the words slurred.


Carter clenched her fists, trying not to imagine what he had been put through to lose the ability to speak clearly.


"I'm going to come get you," she said.


"Don't-"


"Stop, I'm doing this."


Before Donovan could reply the phone was snatched away from him.


"You know what you need to do."


The line went dead. For a moment, Carter felt the panic of what would happen if she didn't do everything asked of her. Her mind raced to the end, imagining the worst possible outcomes. Before she could get trapped in the never-ending cycle, she mentally shouted at herself. Those thoughts were a waste of precious time.


Standing, she made herself turn cold, shutting down her emotions until all that was left was logic and strategy. She dressed and gathered what she needed. It was a small amount, knowing that she could not be weighed down. On her nightstand was her FBI badge. She flipped it open, but then dropped it in the drawer and closed it. What she was about to do could not be tied to the Bureau.


The rest of her plans formed as she completed the next tasks. Before she knew it, she was standing before a familiar door. She knocked twice and waited, her face giving away nothing. Donovan's father frowned as he saw Carter.


"What is it?" he asked.


"They took Donovan," she said, with no inflection. "I would ask my father if he were here-"


Carter was cut off. "Of course."


The man disappeared, only to reappear a few minutes later dressed and carrying a black duffle bag. He eased the door shut and nodded at her. The night was chilly, a whitish blanket of clouds hid the stars and moon from sight. The pair strode towards the sleek, charcoal car and climbed in.


"What do they want?" Ted asked.


Carter told him as she started the car and pulled away.


"But I know where Donovan is and I don't plan on playing by their rules."


"How?"


Carter gripped the steering wheel, not looking at him.


"I slipped a tracker on him before he left." She shook her head. "I had a bad feeling."


Ted said nothing to this and Carter was grateful for his silence. They remained that way as they drove, both all too aware of what it would mean if they didn't handle it right. The car ate up road, carrying them closer and closer to Carter's other half.


When they turned down a darkened street, she switched off the headlights, using the muted light from above to guide her. The houses around them were dilapidated, age and insufficient funds eating away at them. No lights shone from the windows, sleep the one easy escape from reality.


As they stepped out of the car, it was into a place that held an air of abandon. The sound of gunshots would not be out of place and the police would have deaf ears. After checking her shoulder holster, Carter gently pushed the door shut, hiding any warning that could be given.


The pair cut down an alleyway heading towards a cluster of duplexes. The smell of dirt and trash clawed the air, the breeze doing nothing to disperse it. The nipping cold sent a shiver down Carter's arms. At the corner, they stopped and surveyed their target. It was a large, three-story building long since vacated, the level of decay in the structure evident even from the outside.


"Can you cover me?" Carter asked.


In answer, Ted slipped back into the alley and climbed to the roof using a rickety fire escape. Carter took in a breath, stealing herself what she was about to do. In any other situation, Donovan would be by her side, his steady presence would be the courage she needed. She gripped the handle of her gun, imprinting her palm with the ridges. She couldn't let herself think about it. The calm and focus she needed were in the thought of him needing her now.


A flash of light bounced off the cracked concrete before Carter's feet. The signal. She crouched low and peered around the edge of the building. The street was deserted. A scan of the neighboring windows showed no sign of snipers. Even if there were any, she needed to trust that Ted would find them before they found her.


Taking one final breath, she darted across the road, skirted the yard outside the three-story building, and stopped, her back against the wall. She waited, feeling the rush of adrenaline as it heightened the world around her. The grimy, rough stone, the hard-packed dirt, the faint scent of the ocean. When there was no sign she had been seen, she slid along the wall, searching for an in.


A mold softened window was her entrance. Beyond it was a fraying couch in an empty room. She eased the window up, gritting her teeth as it stuck in sections before moving on. When there was a space big enough for her, she hoisted herself into the opening. She dropped to the floor, landing on the balls of her feet with the couch blocking her.


As she moved to the door, she strained to hear anything but all was silent. The door handle let out a creak of protest as she turned it and she froze, but nothing happened. Through the crack in the door, she peered down the hallway. Nothing stirred. She stepped out and swung her gun both ways, checking.


As she edged down the dirt coated hall, she tensed, the lack of noise almost deafening. She hit a floorboard that groaned and from around a corner, a figure popped out. Carter fired twice, the shots dead center, the sound muffled by the suppressor. A bit of the tension vanished, knowing she was in the right place.


She moved from room to room, clearing each of them. In one of the last ones on the floor, she encountered two gunmen, but they were taken out with barely a sound. Carter backtracked to the stairs but stopped when she spotted a shifting shadow on the wall. Her mind scrambled for another route.


She retraced her steps, ending up in the kitchen. The place was pockmarked, decay having had its way with it. In one far corner lay a hole in the ceiling. Stowing her gun away, Carter lifted herself onto an even table and reached up. She grasped the exposed beam and she hauled herself through the hole, holding her breath. The space was a tight fit, but she managed to wriggle herself through.


There was no one in the room with her and she quickly crossed to the open doorway. Out on the landing was a hooded figure, gun poised in preparation. He shifted and the shadow that had given him away wavered on the wall. Carter fired once, the shot hitting him in the chest. He staggered and went down.


Carter swept through the rooms, eliminating men as she went, her thoughts razor-sharp, focused only on the next step. The second floor cleared, she checked the stairs to the third but had a suspicion they would be protected as well. With no holes to the upper floor, she took the last measure she could.


Finding the right window, she pushed it open and looked to drain pipe that still clung to the outside. A flicker of fear went through her, but the thought of Donovan steadied her resolve. She perched herself on the windowsill and tested the thick pipe. When it held true, she swore under her breath and took hold. It whined under her weight but didn't give out. As fast as she dared, she scaled up it to the next floor.


Her muscles shook from the effort of climbing, but she never stopped. There was too much at stake.


Passing by the window, she went all the way up to the sloped roof. As she pulled herself up the shingles dug into her hands, but they felt stronger than the pipe. Dorm room windows jutted out from the roof, catching what faint light the moon gave off. Carter moved across to the closest one and peered inside.


What she saw tightened her heart. Donovan was strapped to a chair at the center of the single attic space, his head lolling to one side. A single guard was with him.


A spark of emotions flared inside Carter's chest, but she tamped it down, needing all her focus. Checking her gun, she took a breath, knowing that speed was the only way she would get both Donovan and her out of this.


Shoving the window up, she dropped into the room, landing hard. As the guard spun, Carter emptied a clip into his chest. He hit the ground and Carter raced to Donovan, her heart pounding in her chest.


"Donovan," she said, cutting away the bindings.


His head wobbled as he twisted it to look up at her.


"Hello, future wifey," he said, the words blurry around the edges.


Carter faced the shot guard, her hands on her hips.


"Brock, what did you do to him?" she asked.


Brock rose to his feet, grimacing.


"What did you do to me?" he asked, removing the heavy jacket. "Did you have to shot me so many times?


"Couldn't take any chances."


Footsteps pounded on the stairs and Clint and James appeared. James had a splatter of red on his chest and Clint had two on his chest and shoulder.


"She had backup," Clint said, crossing his arms.


Carter spread her arms out. "You never said I couldn't have backup and your father didn't object."


"Traitor," Brock muttered.


"What was her time?" James asked.


Brock checked his phone. "10 minutes and 42 seconds."


James let out a surprised whistle. "Beat our best times by a minute."


Despite the ridiculousness of the whole situation, Carter smiled. When she turned back to Donovan, he was getting to his feet, his legs unsteady. She hooked one of his arms around her neck and wrapped her arm around his waist. He beamed at her.


"Hi," he said, the scent of alcohol coming off of his breath.


"I know it's common for bachelor parties," she said, "but did you guys really have to get him this drunk?"


"Yes," they all said.


"It was the only way he would agree to let us put you through the training course. Once drunk he's as agreeable as a puppy and just about as helpless," Brock said.


"He was adamant that you didn't need to prove anything," Clint said. "That the fact that he loved you was enough."


Carter nodded in understanding. Having seen first hand the way they all protected and loved Donovan they weren't about to let him be taken away by someone who didn't deserve him. It was the whole reason she had agreed, she didn't need to prove to them that she deserved him but to herself.


"So," she said, lacing her fingers through Donovan's as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Do you have a verdict?"


All three brothers exchanged looks, the weight of their decision passing between them. When all three sets of eyes landed on her, she straightened. James grinned at Carter.


"It appears we're letting you marry our brother."


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


Wapow!


(That was a quick punch to the face. Just kidding, I would never do that to you!)


What did you think?


I had so much fun writing this one cause it meant I got to make it really intense when it actually wasn't that intense at all. Also I love that the brother's would get Donovan drunk and do this to Carter! So great!


When did you figure out that the whole thing was a test:


When she said Brock's name?


Or sometime sooner?


Like I said at the time, this was a smash up of someone wanting Carter going through a training course with the brothers, as well as them testing Carter, and Donovan getting taken and what Carter would do. So I hope it satisfied your wants!


Till the next one shot!


Vote, comment, follow because drunk Donovan is still the cutest!

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