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Consciousness comes to Callum slowly, and when it does, he wishes it didn’t. Every bone in his body aches with a pain that persists after being repeatedly beaten by Keanu for the past few days. The frigid air of the warehouse has settled in deep, rendering him stiff and frozen.
He can’t feel his hands or his feet, and he can only manage a twitch of his fingers or a slight shift of his leg.
Callum keeps his eyes closed, unable to find the tiniest bit of energy necessary to open them. His throat hurts with every breath of cold air he pulls in. Silence surrounds him, and the soft drip of water somewhere or a chain rattling in the slight breeze are the only audible sounds.
A sharper pain comes from his abdomen, making it hard to breathe without sending stabbing agony burning along his nerves. It could be a broken rib, maybe two. It would certainly make sense. Callum winces at the memory of Keanu mercilessly kicking him as he flailed helplessly on the floor, gagged and chained and unable to escape.
Temples throbbing with the echoes of blows to the head, dizziness hangs over him like a fog, broken only by a faint ringing in his ears. Concussion is the most likely cause. Swallowing, a task made nearly impossible with his parched throat, Callum slowly opens his eyes. It takes a moment or two for them to adjust to the dim lighting, but when they do, the world seems dull and unfocused. The ceiling that towers high above him is one giant mass of shadows. Nothing seems real anymore.
The panic that once coursed through Callum like electricity now only lingers dully beneath the surface. At first, the initial shock of being kidnapped had kept him alert and gave him strength to try and reason with Keanu. But as time passed with no change, the situation worsened. The money never came, and Keanu only added to the growing collection of bruises that spread across Callum’s body like a gruesome painting.
Ben must have done something drastic by the last time he called. For the first time since the kidnapping, Keanu had looked shaken, his bluster and bravado falling away in just a few minutes. Callum had only been able to hear Keanu’s side of the conversation, but whatever Ben said clearly had a big effect.
And when Keanu ran away, any remaining hope Callum previously had left with him. Callum’s own words echo in his ears:
Don’t leave me! DON’T LEAVE ME!
Callum hadn’t known he was capable of making such anguished noise, his voice pushed to a breaking point by desperation. Resignation quickly overtook panic with the knowledge that help would have to come to him. When it did come, it meant nothing. He heard Shirley calling out for him. She hadn’t been far away. But try as he did, Callum hadn’t managed to summon the energy to respond. Beaten and exhausted, he couldn’t force words to pass his lips. And for a fleeting moment, Callum didn’t want to be rescued. It felt like Ben had given up on him. The money Keanu had been promised by Ben never came, and when someone finally found where Callum was being kept, it wasn’t Ben.
Every instinct in Callum’s body screams at him that it isn’t true. His mind, pushed to a breaking point from the ordeal, is spinning ugly tales of betrayal. He isn’t thinking clearly. Ben would never abandon him, something Callum learned during Christmas time. Seeing Ben brought low by his own actions, utterly destroyed by the knowledge that a man’s blood was on his hands, told Callum that he truly did care about the consequences his decisions brought. And at the end of it all, Ben had chosen to stay. He ran back to Callum with the desire to be better on his lips and the silent promise of commitment shining in his eyes.
Why hasn’t Ben run to Callum now, in his most desperate time of need?
Callum closes his eyes and thinks of a warm hand in his own, eyes like the ocean, and the quirk of a sly smile that softens into something genuine. Callum thinks of Ben, the man he loves, in case he reaches a point where he can think no more.
Unconsciousness creeps back in like a fog, clouding Callum’s brain and making the world around him start to fade away. Ben’s face, once crystal-clear in his mind, now blurs into an indiscernible mass of color. A shudder involuntarily works its way through his body, like it just remembered how freezing cold it is.
Then a curtain of darkness descends and Callum passes out again.
***
Ben feels like he’s going to collapse.
He’s been running for days now, unable and unwilling to stop until he finds Callum. He’s beaten down by everything he’s been through, both mentally and physically. Seeing Callum hurt at the hands of Keanu and not being able to do anything. Threatening everyone who crossed his path with the promise of hurt at the end of a gun that he wielded like an extension of his arm. Promising to shoot his own father in order to guarantee Callum’s safety.
The events on the boat were really the icing on the cake of this disastrous past few days. Falling from a tall height off the boat to crash into freezing cold water and then nearly drowning. When he finally managed to break the surface, he hit his head so hard that he saw more stars than those existing in the night sky above him.
He remembers standing on solid land, a shock blanket wrapped around his shoulders but doing nothing to ease the knot in his stomach that tightened with each passing moment. Blearily looking around him at the horrified faces of survivors, clothes drenched and wet hair sticking to their foreheads. It was impossible to tell if the wet streaks that tracked down cheeks were from the Thames or people’s tears.
His hearing aid had been completely ruined by his plunge into the water, rendering him completely deaf in one ear. Disorientation had hung on him like a dense fog, clouding his mind and leaving him hopeless to process what was happening. Keanu’s face in his peripheral vision, lips moving with silent words that Ben would never hear. And then he was gone, dashing off into the night to God knows where, and Ben was no closer to finding Callum than he had been before.
But now, after what felt like an infinity, Ben has the location. He’s standing in the warehouse, shivering at the cold that manages to penetrate his winter coat, desperate to start searching for Callum but not knowing how or where to start.
Jay and Stuart flank his sides, waiting for him to make the first move. Once Ben had obtained the location, he was ready to run off by himself and get Callum back, a decision that was immediately denounced. Ben had no choice but to come clean to Stuart about the situation, and although Stuart had clearly been angry, he managed to contain it. Ben could sense the rage that simmered behind a thin wall of restraint, and for understandable reasons. Stuart had been against Callum and Ben’s relationship from the start, warning Callum off from Ben on multiple occasions and having more than just one go at Ben when he felt things were getting too close. Ben had always moved past Stuart’s insults and blows, but after the whole kidnapping ordeal, he can’t help listening to the tiny voice in his mind that tells him it’s the truth. Getting involved with Ben put Callum directly in the crossfire of a fight that wasn’t his own. Ben was a Mitchell, and bad things did happen around him. He just never thought it would extend to Callum.
Jay, on the other hand, always shot down Ben’s self-criticism, and this occasion was no different. He made it clear that now wasn’t a time for placing blame, but rather for ending it once and for all, and making sure that Callum was brought home safely. His steadying hand on Ben’s shoulder and the promise to help gave Ben some of the strength that he had lost. And Stuart, to his credit, was willing to let his own personal grudge with Ben drop for the moment. “I just want my brother back,” was all he had said to Ben, in a tight voice that spoke of silent wishes to pound Ben’s head in for what he had done, but at least there is temporary peace between the two.
Callum is all that matters.
“CALLUM!” Ben yells, and he can’t help but stumble back a few steps. It’s disorienting to have his voice elevated to such a loud volume but only being able to hear it clearly in one ear. It’s still jarring, even after he screamed the same thing in the middle of the square, where he had stood dripping wet, hopeless and completely alone.
Ben starts walking forward. “CALLUM!” He calls out again, and his voice echoes through the space, but there’s no response. Now that he thinks about it, he can’t hear perfectly out of his good ear, either. He can hear, but noise seems duller, like he’s got water clogged in his ear. A thrill of fear spikes through Ben’s heart. Losing his hearing in his already partially-deaf ear is one thing, but this…
Mentally shaking himself, Ben pushes down the terror bubbling up inside him. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is Callum, who still hasn’t been found.
Jay and Stuart call out Callum’s name too, over and over, and Ben’s realization solidifies with each time they speak. He’s losing his hearing. He doesn’t know how or why. Maybe hitting his head caused damage.
Desperation peaking now, Ben takes the warehouse at a run, screaming Callum’s name and frantically looking in every nook and cranny. Time has no meaning as he searches and searches and hope trickles away like sand from a broken hourglass.
And then Ben finds him.
A sizable height down from a ledge, Callum lies flat on his back on a pile of rubbish, one arm thrown out to the side. He isn’t moving, and his chest isn’t rising and falling with breath.
All the air in Ben’s lungs leaves him in a rushed exhale. He had dreamed up a world of horrors about the state of Callum’s well-being while kidnapped, but to see him looking so small and so broken, something fragile in Ben finally breaks.
“Callum!” Ben calls out, and this time, he can barely hear his own voice. Fear strikes him again like a poisonous dagger, but he swallows down the bile rising in his throat.
For Callum is the mantra that has pounded in Ben’s head and his heart for the past few days, and it reaches a frantic, thrilling crescendo as his eyes land on Callum.
“We’ve gotta find a way down!” Stuart says, urgency evident in his voice even though Ben hardly registers the sound.
There’s no time, and Ben makes his decision.
“Ben, wait!” Jay protests, and he tries to grab Ben’s arm, but it’s too late. Ben is already jumping down, grunting when he lands hard on his feet and a flare of pain goes up through one ankle. He limps to Callum as fast as he can, slipping across the rubbish and eventually falling to his knees at Callum’s side.
Ben grabs for Callum desperately, pulling him into his arms and cradling his upper body in his lap. Ben gently positions Callum’s head against his chest for support, and his heart sinks when he sees the state he’s in. Callum’s face is deathly pale, and the dark bruises and blood stand out even in the dim light. His once-pink lips are now chapped and blue, and stubble drapes his youthful face in a shadow.
“Callum?” Ben whispers, his breath coming in shallow pants that hang in the frigid air.
Callum is unresponsive.
Ben fumbles to press his fingers under Callum’s jaw to feel for a pulse. Panic flashes through him when he can’t find one. Are his fingers too cold to feel anything? Or is there no pulse to be found?
“No,” Ben gasps, and he shakes his head. “No. No! Callum, can you hear me? I-I’m right here.”
Ben rubs one hand up and down the length of Callum’s arm, trying to take away the cold that has settled in deep.
“Please don’t leave me,” Ben whispers. “Please.”
Ben gently sweeps one thumb across Callum’s bruised cheek, wanting to wipe away the blood he finds there. Callum hasn’t so much as twitched since Ben took him in his arms.
“Please don’t leave me!” Ben’s words come out in a choked shout, louder than he meant to sound, but he can’t help it, and he can’t hear himself well anyway. He feels paralyzed by fear and the unacceptable possibility that he’s too late, that he’s lost Callum forever. He needs Callum to wake up. He needs to see those blue eyes, bright like chips of the bluest sky, that can take one look at Ben and see him for who he truly is.
He needs to tell Callum the one thing he hasn’t. He can’t be too late. He can’t have lost his chance. Not now, after this entire ordeal has brought him a stunning, yet simple revelation.
A small, labored breath goes into Callum’s lungs, and his chest rises slightly.
Ben’s eyes sting with tears that rise in his eyes like the rushing tide. “Callum?” He says, his voice barely above a whisper, too afraid to hope that it was true, that what he’d just witnessed wasn’t a figment of his imagination. His eyes dart across Callum’s face, desperately searching for a sign of life.
Callum’s eyebrows pinch together, and his eyes slowly flutter open a bit. He looks up into a familiar face, one he thought he would never see again.
“Ben?” Callum rasps, his voice rough from dehydration and disuse. Ben can barely hear it, but he can see it, the way Callum’s lips form around his name.
A strangled gasp of relief escapes Ben’s lips. His heart pounds rapidly against his chest, threatening to break through, and his eyes burn as the tears begin to fall.
“Callum,” is all Ben can manage to say before his voice is stolen by a lump of emotion that lodges itself in his throat. His arms move automatically, wrapping around Callum’s shoulders and drawing him close in a fierce embrace.
Callum crumples against Ben, his exhausted body slumping against the support. His posture is pliant and trusting, curling towards Ben like an anchor in a storm. He’s drawn to Ben like a magnet, closing the distance between their bodies like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
A shudder works its way through Callum’s body, and he turns his face into the crook of Ben’s neck.
“Found me,” Callum murmurs, his lips like ice against Ben’s skin. “Knew you would.”
A choked breath escapes Ben’s lips, suddenly struck with terror at how close he had been to losing Callum. It doesn’t feel real that he’s holding Callum in his arms after all this time, after sleepless nights where Ben’s mind spun the worst tales of loss and heartbreak. And just like that, the red haze of anger that had been driving him up until this point, that terrifying desire for death and pain that gave Ben strength to cut down anyone who got in his way, went blissfully quiet. All other thoughts of revenge desert him because Callum is right here, right here in Ben’s arms and so alive that Ben can barely draw breath.
“I’ve got you,” Ben whispers. “I’ve got you.”
Callum’s hands fist in the back of Ben’s coat, and he moves himself impossibly closer, pressing in as close as he can to fit against the solid line of Ben’s body. His head drops involuntarily onto Ben’s shoulder, so exhausted that he can’t maintain the strength needed to hold it up. He simply lets Ben take his weight, slumping heavily against Ben’s smaller frame, shifting one hand to Ben’s waist to steady himself.
“I—” Ben rests his chin on Callum’s shoulder and shakes his head. “I’m so sorry, Callum. I-I’m so sorry. T-this is all my fault.” His voice trembles dreadfully as the tears continue to fall down his cheeks in burning streams.
Callum presses his nose into Ben’s cheek and presses a tiny kiss to the underside of Ben’s jaw. “Sssshhhh,” he murmurs into the warm skin. “Don’t do that.”
“I thought I was gonna lose you,” Ben whispers, repeating the words that Callum had said when he was laid up in a hospital bed, a moment that felt like a lifetime ago. Ben had treated that situation lightly, peppering the conversation with jokes, much to Callum’s dismay.
Now Ben understands why. Now he knows how it feels to be utterly gutted by almost losing someone you love.
“Callum,” Ben says, and he takes in a shuddering breath. As he looks down into Callum’s face, broken but still so beautiful, the words come rushing out.
“I love you.”
He can’t even hear himself say it, but he knows the feeling behind those three little words, the feeling of warmth and comfort. There it is, the thing that lit a fire in Ben and kept it raging as he fought the world to get Callum back. It’s a simple truth that he’s always struggled to say, fearful that voicing it would leave destruction in his wake. But he can’t pretend anymore. He loves Callum more than life itself, and he hates himself for almost losing the chance to say it.
Callum’s lips part, and a tiny gasp escapes as a wisp of mist in the air. He tilts his head to rest against the curve of Ben’s chest, and a tiny smile lifts the corners of his mouth.
“I love you too.”
Ben can barely hear it, but he sees Callum’s lips curve with the words, something he’s said before but something Ben didn’t take seriously. Cupping Callum’s face as gently as he can, Ben leans down and captures Callum’s lips in a kiss, one that brings everything crashing to a sudden standstill. Ben’s hand cups Callum’s neck, burning heat through his cold skin, tilting his head just so and erasing every thought other than Ben as the rest of the world fades away.
Callum practically melts against Ben, curling his own hands around Ben’s cheek, thumbs resting in front of his ears and fingers cupping the back of Ben’s head. It isn’t a perfect kiss. It’s rough and desperate and a little rushed, the feeling of finally after a few days that had been stretched into an eternity of suffering. Their breaths steam in the frozen night air, hands gentle but desperate with the gut-wrenching need to be closer after the time apart. Ben’s heart thunders in his ears and he hurts with a soul-deep want, terrifyingly new yet painstakingly familiar, like he’s reliving a distant memory of the feeling he thought he’d lost forever.
When they finally break apart, both of them gasp for breath. Neither lets go of the other’s face, keeping barely a sliver of space between them. Their gazes are locked together in an unbreakable bond, every emotion heightened. This close, Callum can see every shade of blue in Ben’s eyes, witnessing everything he’s usually so careful to hide away. As Callum watches the slight up and down movement of Ben’s irises, no doubt looking at the damage on his face, Callum can see pain, so deep it’s almost hidden, but shining bright as Ben doesn’t tear his gaze away from Callum.
Ben feels completely exposed. He knows he must look wrecked; he can feel it in the furrow of his brows and the frown that tugs at his lips. But even those microexpressions aren’t enough to hide the unbridled relief that floods his face as he takes in Callum’s kind face. Callum is alive, and breathing, and in Ben’s arms like it should always be. Ben has no more armor left. It’s been battered and cracked by the numerous obstacles he faced on the journey to getting Callum back, and now, looking into the eyes of the man that he loves, it’s completely stripped from him.
Callum’s thumb drifts across Ben’s lips with a feather-light pressure, and Ben doesn’t hesitate to kiss Callum again. This kiss is slower, more gentle, with both men allowing themselves time to enjoy the feeling of their lips perfectly molding against each other.
It’s Callum who breaks the kiss, and involuntarily, it appears. He drifts back from Ben’s lips with a tiny, distressed exhale, his face screwing up with pain.
Ben tilts forward and leans his forehead against Callum’s in a tender gesture. “You alright?” He murmurs, his words ghosting across Callum’s lips in their closeness.
The pain slowly fades from Callum’s face. “Yeah,” he replies, voice low. “Just… you take my breath away.”
Ben smiles in spite of himself. “Are you sure it ain’t because you’re hurt?”
Callum gives a tiny shrug. “Bit of both.”
Shaking his head, Ben exhales through his nose. “I can’t think straight when it comes to you,” he admits, a hushed admission in the quiet night.
“Just when it comes to me?” Callum teases, his voice rough but tender, one corner of his mouth quirking up.
Ben lowers his head and presses a small kiss to the smiling corner of Callum’s mouth, then pulls back and presses their foreheads together again. Callum’s hands stroke up and down the length of Ben’s upper arms in a comforting gesture, a silent It’s okay. You can talk to me. I’m here.
Ben cups Callum’s neck in his hands, thumbs brushing against his cheeks. “You were in danger, and all my logic went out the window. I didn’t care what I did or who I hurt. All I could think of was you.”
Head moving forward a fraction of an inch, Callum brushes his nose against Ben’s. “I know you didn’t hurt anyone. It ain’t you.”
Ben bites his lip as his eyes prickle with the sting of fresh tears, brought on by Callum’s kind words. “But I thought about it,” Ben confesses. “I thought it was the only option. I— I threatened to shoot my own father.”
Any surprise at this statement is only shown in the slight widening of Callum’s eyes. “You did?” He asks, his voice small and hesitant.
Eyelids fluttering closed, Ben nods. “He didn’t think I would. But for you… for you, I would.”
“Yeah?” Callum whispers, barely believing the words that fall upon his ears. Ben, who has done nothing but try to please his father as long as Callum has known him, going so far as to organize a murder plot, just said that he would shoot his father. The man that’s supposed to be his top priority, practically a god in his life.
When Ben’s eyes open to meet Callum’s gaze, he finds nothing but honesty.
“Yeah,” Ben affirms.
“Oh, Ben.” Callum presses his face into the crook of Ben’s neck again and breathes him in, rendered speechless by Ben's sheer dedication. He finally made his choice, and he picked Callum. It's almost too much to handle.
They stay like that for a few minutes, content to just hold each other and not let go.
Ben is the one to break the silence. “You’re freezing,” he says softly.
Ben’s body is warm like a furnace that warms Callum up, but it’s not enough. He realizes that Ben is right, and that he’s visibly shivering in the cold air, his body trembling against Ben’s.
“Guess so,” is the only reply he can think of.
Ben laughs softly, and it’s a beautiful sound that brings a smile to his face. He strips off his coat and drapes it around Callum’s shoulders, bundling him up in the fabric that’s been made warm by Ben’s body heat.
“I’m going to get you to the hospital,” Ben says, and the resolve in his voice tells Callum that it’s not up for debate. “You’re gonna be okay. I will make sure of it.”
Callum nuzzles back against Ben, grateful for the coat but still in desperate need to have bodily contact with Ben. Without hesitation, Ben wraps his arms around Callum again, hands rubbing across his back and shoulders.
“And after that?” Callum asks quietly. “After I’m… back on my feet. What then?”
Ben looks down at Callum, who gazes up at him with a gentle look of expectation, awaiting an answer.
“Then we’ll go home,” Ben replies. He can feel the way his lips move around the word and the way it rumbles in his chest as he says it.
Home. The word sends a wave of happiness through Callum.
“Would you—” Callum pauses, suddenly struck by a rush of shyness and uncertainty that floods through his veins as he fights the hope rising in his chest. “Will you stay?”
Ben looks at him with soft, unguarded eyes. Then he leans in and closes the miniscule distance between them to press a silent, loving kiss to Callum’s forehead.
“Yes,” he whispers, voice cracking slightly. “Yes, I’ll stay.”