Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

***

“Hey,” Audrey calls from the kitchen when she hears the front door open.

“Hey." Don kicks off his shoes in the hallway, hangs his jacket and walks into their apartment to find her in the kitchen with a pot of pasta boiling on the stove “You’re a life saver.” He mumbles and hugs her from behind, gently kissing her neck.

“I know.” She returns with a smile and tastes the sauce before she aks “How did it go?”

“Not too bad." he answeres vaguely, there's still too much new information in his head for him to be sure not to let something slip by accident.

Audrey knows better then to ask any questions about the assignment "And your new partner?"

"He's...odd."

"Odd how?"

Eight hours earlier

He's alone in the war room, still trying to wrap his head around what is happening. Today is the day the task force he's been freshly assigned to comes together for the first time, only a few weeks before the assistant director had approached him and asked him if he looked for a career change. He agreed without hesitation.

The sound of the elevator arriving pulls him out his thoughts.

The doors open to reveal a tall man with short brown hair and a pair of aviators perched on the bridge of his nose. He walks across the vast main room, messenger bag half  slung over one shoulder, and comes to a halt next to him by the table.

“I hope I’m not late.” It's more of an announcement than a question.

Don looks at him with one eyebrow raised, considering they're the only two people in the room and wonders why exactly this guy has to stand so close to him “Don’t think so.”

The messenger bag lands on the table with a thud and he extends a hand “Julian Gale.” He introduces himself.

“Donald Ressler."

“Where did they pull you from?” he asks and shoves his hands back into his pockets.

“Special ops.” He answers shortly.

“Well at least we’ll have someone to kick a door down.” Julian looks at him over the rim of his sunglasses and leans slightly forward, emphasising the height difference between them.

Dons eyes narrow briefly “And a charmer apparently.” He shoots back which causes the other mans face to shift into a smile. There is something about the whole leather jacket wearing sunglasses indoors business that irks him but he can’t put his finger on what it is.

Julian points a finger at him and chuckles “I think I like you.” With that he spins on his heel and casually walks over to one of the offices. When he reaches the door he briefly turns around again, sunglasses off, his sharp gaze laced with a smile “This is gonna be fun.”

Don follows him but keeps a distance.

“Fancy.” Julian taps his finger on the small sign next to the door stating both their names and enters.

“Any idea what this is gonna be about?” Don asks leaning against the doorframe, eyes following the man who apparently is his new partner looking around their office.

“Nah,” Gale answers from his spot perched on the edge of the shared desk “But you know what Blacksite means, right. We’re onto something big, Donnie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He discards the other mans remark with a quick motion if his hand “I don’t know about you, but this feels like a big fat promotion to me. Trust me."

They meet the rest of the brand new Raymond Reddington task force about an hour later, then dive straight into hours and hours of briefings. The air in the rooms sizzles with a mixture of tension and excitement. And testosterone.

Later, darkness has already fallen, Julian catches him in the parking lot while he's having a smoke.

“Nasty habit.” Julian remarks and comes to a halt next to him.

“That’s what Audrey says.” He returns without much thought.

“Who’s Audrey?” Julian asks causing Don to instantly regret dropping her name.

“My fiancée.”

“You should listen to her.” He leans against the wall next to them and crosses his arms.

“That’s also what she says.” Don retorts with a small smile "You were right, by the way."

"I know. With what?" Julian jokes, earning a chuckle from his partner.

"That we're on something big." he explains and throws the butt of the cigarette in the trash.

"The biggest Donnie," he agrees and pushes away from the wall "the fucking biggest."

Don watches him walk towards his car with his hands shoved into the pockets of his worn leather jacket and wonders.

“I’m glad you moved units. Gives me less reason to worry.” Audrey calls from the kitchen while he sets the table.

She sounds genuinely happy and Don is glad that she has her back towards him “I know babe, me too.” He lies and hates himself the second the words leave his mouth. She always worried when the bureau called in the middle of the night because they needed backup whenever wherever, when they sent him across half the world and back to pull some low life from his bunker, always worried that one day he might not come home.

The hunt for Raymond Reddington might be different but also the same. The game was the same but the stakes had gone up.

Chapter Text

***

Before Bobby Jonica and Sam Raimo join the task force their fourth man is called Alex Jones, a DEA Agent with a big heart and a contagious smile.

Ten months after they started hunting Reddington Alex is shot by one of Reddingtons associates. Julian, Pete and Don stand behind his widow at the funeral while she is desperately trying to hold it together for her two kids. A speech is held, salutes are fired and as the coffin is lowered into the ground Julian and Don look at each other, both knowing it might as well have been one of them.

He curls around Audrey that night, holds her a little tighter and she knows he lied about the dangers of the new task force.

No three weeks later and still a man short they fly to Belgrade on a few hours notice, the second the intel about Reddington being there drops they are sent packing their bags. Julian is against it, argues that they haven't had time to properly work out a plan but their superiors don't care and tell him to make use of their flight time.  

12 hours and half a world away they find themselves in a black Passat, watching a remote cobbled street drown in the nightly rainfall. Somewhere behind a heavy iron gate across the street are Reddington and his associates, probably plotting the destabilisation of some regime but from the outside everything is perfectly still. Pete is around the corner with some local police officers as back up if things go sideways.

"I don't know about you Donnie but I have a bad feeling about this." Julian mutters and looks at his partner "Hey!" he exclaims when there's no reaction and gently jabs Resslers arm.

"Huh?"

"Audrey give you trouble because of the short notice?" he asks half ironically "This level of silence is weird even for you."

Ressler doesn't answer right away, the muscles in his jaw working. "She left."

"What?" Julian asks baffled and his eyebrows almost meet his hairline.

"Yeah. Packed her bags and, you know."

"I'm sorry man, really," Julian sais geniunely "I know how much she means to you."

"Well, doesn't seem to be mutual."

Julian is quiet, briefly considering his words before asking "Is it because of Reddington?"

"Yeah." Don answers, eyes fixed on the iron gate across the road but Julian doesn't miss how he tenses and blinks rapidly a couple of times.

"We're doing the right thing here, you know that right?"

Ressler doesn't answer instead reaches for the radio "Hey, we got movement."

Julian falls silent, eyes trained on the gate across the street. He spots the silhouettes of at least three men and a fourth that stands out, slightly shorter than the others, the fedora clearly visible.

"That's Reddington right there." He states and radios Pete "We have Reddington plus three or four guards, any ideas?"

"I got ten officers right here, lets hit 'em." Petes tinny voice  sounds from the radio, radiating confidence.

Julian nods to himself and looks at Ressler, passing him the radio  "You heard him. Your call team leader."

He takes the radio and looks back and forth between the gate and his partner. This is their chance, probably the best they'll ever get. "On my command."

The heavy gate swings open slowly, the first of Reddingtons guards steps out on the street looking left and right, checking for any obvious threats. Behind the tinted windows of the car Julian and Don pull their guns from the holster, the tension that lies in the air is almost tangible. Another man steps out on the street, again, looking around first before Reddington follows him in a confident stride as if he didn't have a worry in the world.

"Go!"

Reddingtons gaurds open fire before they can even get out the car all the way, the first two rounds hit the drivers side window and tires of the Passat, shattered glass flying everywhere. They cover behind the rear of the car, the sound of the approaching footsteps of Pete and the police officers echoing through the alleys. Ressler peers around the car to see two of the guards running back towards the bulding while the other three take off on foot, forming a protective triangle around Reddington. More gunshot rattle through the air, ploughing through the peaceful silence of the night.

The decision to follow them is made within the fraction of a second, Ressler dashes across the street closely followed by Julian. One guard goes down not long after they started chasing them, Julian lands a lucky shot but it's not enough. The man cries out and goes down hard on the cobbled pavement but neither Reddington nor the others pay him any attention, they carry on without looking back.

Julian and Don are getting closer and closer, both younger and in better shape than Reddington but the rain comes down hard and Ressler stumbles over a slanting curb and almost falls, causing Julian to turn around and look out for him, giving Reddington and his men time to increase their lead.

One of them turns around and aims at the two agents but misses, even though neither of them covered, both driven by the kind of adrenaline fueled determination that makes you forget about danger. They are getting closer again, quite literally breathing down Raymond Reddingtons neck when they round a corner and they're alone.

They come a halt by a crossroads, both panting and looking around, checking the roads and other possible escape routes but there's noone to be seen. The empty streets are silent, the wet cobblestone glowing in the orange hue of the streetlights. A dog barks in the distance, then there's nothing but the sound of the rain. The cold of the April night begins to seep through their soaked clothes.

"Fuck." Don mutters and turns to Julian who looks back at him with his brow knit with frusttration.

"There's no way they could've known we were there." he exclaims and throws his hands up in defeat.

"Doesn't matter,"  Ressler returns and holsters his gun "They're gone."

"Yeah." Julian agrees in defeat and holsters his gun as well "Let's get back."

"Right."  he agrees and pushes a strand of wet hair from his forehead "What?" 

Julians face freezes when he notices the reddish smear that his hand left behind on his partners forehead "Show me your hand."

"Why?" Ressler asks, clearly confused by the request but he can ask no further before the other man grabs his right hand, his own coming away stained a deep red "What...?" while his suddenly sluggish brain struggles to comprehend what that means Julian is already busy undoing the zipper of his jacket. He carefully peals away the soaked fabric and feels his heart pound against his ribs.

The bulletproof vest is still intact but the sleeve of the grey sweater underneath is soaked in thick red, a steady flow caused by a bullet that had entered right next to the shoulder strap of the vest "Shit, Donnie." Julians voice trembles "One of them must've gotten  you."

Ressler doesn't answer, gaze glued on the rythmic pulse of blood coming from his shoulder without feeling anything, as if it was someone else's. The knit fabric of his sweater is sticky and starting to itch, the warm liquid coating his cold hand glistens strangely when suddenly reality hits him like a freight train and his shoulder explodes with pain so intense and unexpected that his knees buckle.

Julian lurches forward and manages to keep him from falling and before he knows it they're kneeling on the pavement, Julians arm firmly around Dons shoulder. He's got his forehead against Julians chest and the other mans body feel warm against his, even through the wet leather of the jacket. He hears Julian talk frantically over the radio but can't make out the words, his ears are full of cotton and his breath picks up.

There are a shitload of blood vessels in the shoulder. They were running. He's got a rare blood type. Fuck.

"Hey," Julians voice cuts through the cotton and he feels him move, sitting back on his heels so they're face to face "Help's on the way."

" 's cold." the adrenaline rush is gone and he feels himself crash. Hard.

"I know, fucking rain aye?" he knows it's the blood loss but he also knows that his partner, who is currently pale as a sheet and shivering against his chest is probably aware of that so he talks the edge away "Help's coming, they'll warm you back up."

It's the last thing Don remembers before he drifts off, the warm words ghosting past his ear and the scratch of Julians constant five o'clock shadow against his cheek.

Chapter Text

-2017-

***

***

"How did that come along?" Julian asks as his fingertips ghost over the scars on his left thigh.

Don lets out a long breath "Long story."

"You mean classified story." he rolls over and puts his head on his hand. 

"Yeah." Don admits, gaze glued to the ceiling. The room is dimly lit, shadows of the tree outside the window dance across the walls. It's the same apartment, the same bed, the same man. Not the same feeling.

Julian shifts again,his hand coming to a rest on Dons waist and he nuzzles his shoulder. After a beat of silence he whispers "Would you believe me if I said I missed you?"

He doesn't know what happend in the last four years. He can't know. "You were gone without a trace." he says instead.

"I, uh, had to sort some stuff out." Julian admits reluctantly  " 's not always easy, doing the right thing."

If only he knew. "Is this the right thing?" Don turns his head to look at Julian who is half curled against him, elegant like a cat between the dark blue sheets.

"Let's act like it is" Julian whispers and leans in to kiss him "Just for tonight." he adds huskily and their lips brush against each other.

He leans into the kiss and Julian cards a hand through his hair and holds him like he has so many times before, when the hunt for Reddington got too much, when there was nothing left but each other and the anonymity of the night.

He knows what they're doing is wrong. Cooper gave him the task of staying ahead of Julians investigation, sabotage it so he won't discover the truth. Sleeping with him is not on the list.

There is so much he wants to tell him, what the task force is doing, how they're doing good although it's hard to see sometimes, what a good team they are, hell even Reddingtons eccentricities. How I wish you could stay, join the team.

"Why did you come here tonight?" 

 Don takes his time before answering, contemplating "What if I missed you too?" it wasn't even a lie but feels like one rolling of his tongue, like he was trying to gain the other mans trust just to get more information "We're the only ones left, you and me, you knew that?"

Julian gaze shifts "What do you mean?" 

"Remember Mako Tanida?"

"Of course."

"He went after our old team a couple of years ago." he doesn't have to say more for Julian to understand. 

"Wait, does that mean...?"

Don nods "Sam, Bobby and Pete are gone." he spares the details, hearing about what Bobby actually did wouldn't change anything but make matters worse. 

Julian sits up, his face frozen in shock "Jesus...I didn't know..." he trails off, trying to wrap his head around what he just learned. 

"No one knew where you were, and us looking for you might have just lead Tanida to you too." he explains and Julian nods. 

"Did you get him?"  

"He was shot." And I got his head in box, delivered by Reddingtons closest confidant.

He tilts his head "But?"

"But what?"

"There's more to it." Julian has always been able to read him like a book.  He reaches out to put his hand on the side of Dons neck and gently circles his fingers through the short hair on the back of his head "Something happened."

Don looks straight into his dark eyes and takes deep breath "Back then... Audrey and I had just gotten back together," he clears his throat, notices the faint twinge of happiness passing over Julians face and it hurts like fuck but he pushes himself to go on "We were on the way out of the city when...when Tanida caught up with us. She was shot." his voice breaks over the last words and the room is suddenly silent. 

Julian scoots over and pulls him close "I'm sorry."

The lump forming in his throat keeps him from speaking, the weight of the events of the past years suddenly threatening to crush him. A breath shudders from his lungs, then another and Julians arms tighten around his body "It's ok."

It's not.

This, this right there is where he lets down his guard and allows himself to be weak, because he knows this is Julian, and Julian is a safe place. He's never allowed himself to grieve her loss, to actually let himself feel the emotion. Over the years it faded in the backround but it has never really left him, burned in the back of his mind like a scar and there is something about the way Julians body feels against him that breaks it open all over again. 

But for the moment it's okay, even when its not. 

Tomorrow they'll be two agents again, but not tonight.  

Tomorrow we'll stand on opposite sides, tonight we're one. 

"Allies today, enemies tomorrow."  

Chapter Text

***

When he wakes up the rain is gone. He is in a room painted in a nasty shade of green but sunlight is streaming through the window and Julian sits next to the bed in a chair much too small for his tall frame.

“Morning sunshine.” He says quietly, a soft smile playing around his eyes.

“What time is it?” he mumbles, the edges of the world around him are fuzzy and his whole body feel thrice its normal weight.

“Half past nine.” Julian answers and shifts in the chair, leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees to get a better look at him “How’s the shoulder?”

“Okay. Whatever they gave me, it’s working.“ The pain in his shoulder has subsided to a dull ache and they’d put his arm in a sling securing it against his chest. 

“Good.” he nods with a relieved smile.

"Reddington?" 

Julian just shakes his head, obviously disappointed with himself "Vanished, found no trace of him or his guys."

"Shit."

"On the bright side, the guy I took down lived, we're taking him to D.C. for questioning. It's something." it's a shitty attempt to lighten the mood and he knows it. 

They’re on the plane home only a couple of hours later, Julian keeps grumbling about how this whole operation was set to be a failure while Pete escorts Reddingtons guard to the back of the small jet. Don hangs back and sits down by the window across the isle from Julian. He's got two missed calls from Audrey but he's too worn out to call her so he switches off his phone and stares into the clouds 

By the time they arrive in D.C. the painkillers have worn off and he is pale and taught like a bowstring. Pete pulls Julian aside after they arrive at the blacksite to collect their things “Make sure he gets home alright." he says in a low voice, concerned gaze resting on Don who is currently stood by their office door, staring into space.

"Sure." Julian answers and makes his way across the room. 

Pete can't hear Julians voice from across the room but he watches Don nod at whatever he said before pushing away from the wall to leave the office. 

Julian leads him to his car and Don is too tired and in too much pain to protest. They arrive at his apartment just past midnight, both glad that the hallways in the building are empty. Don fumbles with the keys for a couple seconds before Julian takes them and unlocks the door. 

Once inside, Audreys absence becomes dauntingly real. There are obvious gaps on the shelves, missing books and knick knacks except for a key that lies on the kitchen counter.

She was really gone.

“Thanks for dropping me off.” Don says after a beat of silence and manages half a smile but Julian doesn’t move.

“If you think I’ll leave you here in this sad excuse of an apartment all by yourself you still don’t know me.” He closes the door behind him and shrugs off his leather jacket “Got anything in the fridge?”

“Uh, yeah.” Don answers a little puzzled.

"Good. Painkillers too?" he asks and receives a nod "You go grab some and I'll see what I can come up with."

"Right, ok." still puzzled but in no mood to argue he leaves the kitchen. 

The bathroom is half empty too, stripped off of everything that belonged to Audrey and it feels like salt rubbed into the wound. They were planning to get married, built a life together. Have kids. 

Now, it's all gone. Nothing was left but a half empty apartment and a gaping hole in his heart that grows deeper and deeper with every heartbeat. The sounds of Julian pottering around in the kitchen and the knowledge that he's not alone is comforting although he doesn’t like to admit it. The last 48 hours finally start to catch up with him but he fights down the tears threatening to spill and instead grabs the painkillers from the cabinet, swallowing them dry. One hand braced against the sink he takes a steadying breath. He wants to hate her but can't. 

“At least she left you the food.” Julian remarks when he returns from the bathroom making Don huff a humourless laugh.

Julian puts two plates with a sandwich on each on the kitchen table and they eat in comfortable silence, both tired and in the mood for some quiet. He places their plates next to the sink before turning back to him, giving him a once over "You should get some rest." he says softly.

"Probably." Don agrees and rises from the kitchen chair.

"Hey uh, do you mind if I crash here?"  he shifts his weight, suddenly insecure. 

The worry however is short lived "No, sure, it's fine. There's a spare blanket in the bottom drawer over there, at least there was." Don adds dryly, tries not to sound bitter but fails "If you need anything else..."

"No, thanks. Just glad I don't have to drive across the city after all this...shit." he rambles which earnes him another half smile from his partner. 

"Night Julian."

"Night."

The bedroom door falls closed behind him, the sounds of Julian in the living room seeping through the thin wood.

Gingerly sitting down on the edge of the bed he looks at her side, empty and untouched. There is nothing left to distract himself with anymore but the steady throb in his shoulder and his eyes sting with unshed tears. He wants nothing but collapse against the pillows and sleep for three days straight but he's still fully clothed and every movement makes his shoulder jolt with pain, leading to a hoarse moan falling from his lips.

No five seconds later there is a knock on the door "You ok?" Without waiting for an answer the door opens and Julians face appears from behind the door and before he knows it he's standing in the middle of his bedroom. The blue shirt he's been wearing is gone, revealing the wife beater underneath.

Don tries to protest but he ignores it and cuts to the chase "I broke my collarbone in college, trust me when I say I know what I'm talking about Donnie." he says, the use of the formerly hated nickname causing a brief smile to ghost over face. Three, Julian takes mental note, pleased with himself.  "Besides, nothing that I haven't seen."

He gives in then, alowing Julian to guide his aching limbs out of the sweater and jeans he's been wearing with careful, steady hands. 

"You look like shit." he states and looks at his partner standing in front of him half asleep on his feet wearing nothing but boxer briefs and a stained bandage.  

"Right back at you." Don returns but looks relieved, grateful that he's not alone. There's something about Julian that makes him just fit in right where he is, something that makes his presence feel effortless and inviting. 

Julian just grins and turns on his heels and walks to the door, switching off the light in passing. 

He's asleep before his head hits the pillow and things feel ok for a moment. 

The world can wait and carry on being the shitty place it is in the morning. 

Things are not ok but they might be again, one day. 

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He continues to find things around the apartment Audrey forgot when she left and two weeks later he finally finds the courage to give them back to her. 

He puts all of it in a tote bag and drives over to her mother place where she's staying for the time being. 

While waiting for the door to open he prays that it won't be Mrs. Bidwell answering the door, she had never liked him. When the door swings open to reveal Audrey he doesn't know if he wouldn't have preferred her mother. 

Wordlessly he holds out the bag, afraid of what might happen if he spoke.

For a few terrible seconds dragging by they stand in front of each other like strangers.  

"Please don't hate me." her voice cracks, struggling to hold back the tears. Even though she looks like she's barely gotten any sleep last night, all messy hair and smudged mascara, she is still the most beautiful woman in the world to him.

Don looks into her hazel eyes and wants nothing else but hold her, quit the god damn task force and be with her but that's not how life goes "Never." 

She accepts the bag and he turns to leave, feels her eyes on his back the entire way to the staircase but doesn't look back. 

Chapter Text

***

"Hey," Bobby appears at the door of their office causing Don to look up from the stack of papers on the desk "Pete and Sam already left, I'm heading home too."

"Sure, see you tomorrow." he answers with half a smile and turns back to his paperwork but Bobby speaks again.

"You seen Gale?"

His eyes briefly dart towards the empty chair across their shared desk, only then he notices that its been sitting empty for a while "No."

Bobby nods "Seems today has hit him pretty hard."

"Yeah."

"You got uh," he says and gestures towards the cuff of his sleeve.

"Shit," he curses and rubs at the blood stain on his sleeve as if he could make it come off "thanks."

A moment of silence stretches between them before Bobby pushes away from the doorframe, his posture giving away his exhaustion "See you tomorrow, Ress."

He watches the other man walk across the main room through the half drawn blinds of the office window, waits until he's sure Bobby is gone before he gets up and leaves the office headed towards the changing rooms. There's always a spare shirt in his locker and although it doesn't really make sense to change now the urge to do so is stronger. 

He mechanically goes through the motions of changing and is about to leave when he hears a sound from the back of the room. In the far right corner is a row of unused lockers, they started storing boxes and other spare utensils behind it. Quietly, he makes his way across the room, not sure what he hopes to find, and peers behind the lockers.

There, in a dusty corner crammed with unused clutter he finds his partner, crouched on the dusty floor next to a stack of empty cardboard boxes.

"Hey."

Julian startles and his head whips around to look at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Don can see the shame creeping up his neck and the unshed tears clouding his partners eyes. 

"You okay?"

He struggles for words, his eyes darting around Dons face until he finally manages a shrug. Don makes sure to keep his face neutral and lowers himself onto the ground next to Julian, the crammed space forcing him so close to the other man that their shoulders touch. Julian sits with his legs drawn to his chest, arms around his knees and stares at his hands.

"Is it because of the bodies?" it's a stupid question but there's nothing else to say, to lessen the horrors they'd witnessed today. 

A heavy moment of silence passes until Julian heaves a sigh and answers " 's too many, Don. You know they," he stops and shakes his head in disbelief, motioning his hand between them  "they speak, and- and..." he stumbles over his words "they scream, Don. They were massacred, just like that, because they stood in Reddingtons way." tears shine bright in his eyes now and he looks at the ceiling hoping to find the sky but sees grey concrete instead.

There was no way to tell if Reddington killed them or not but it doesn't matter. 

Ressler looks at his partner who has bared his soul in front of him, raw emotion hits him like heat waves and he doesn't know what to do. He has also seen the bodies, a cruel mass of tangled limbs, skin and bones and meat. Lives tossed away without second thought. 

Julian tears his eyes away from the ceiling and turns to look at Don. The walls that he surrounds himself with are almost tangible at this point, his face hard and pale like marble. He wants to reach out, to find his way behind his shield and melt the ice underneath. So much is locked away deep but struggling against its chains, pulling and yanking, waiting to break free. He wants to reach out and say its ok, let it break free before it breaks you, but he can't. Too much is going on inside his own heart.

Then, unexpectedly, he feels a warm hand on his shoulder and he can't help himself but melt into the touch. Before he knows it his head is on Dons shoulder and his tears seep into his shirt. The other man doesn't move, waits, but eventually puts his arm around his shoulders which makes Julian to curl into the embrace even further. He  feels the warmth of Dons body seep into his skin, breathes in and smells fresh detergent, sandalwood and something else he can't place. 

"I'm sorry." he straightens up suddenly, restores the distance between them and runs a hand over his face.

"Don't be." Don says softly  "Come on." he gets up from the floor and offers Julian a hand which he gratefully accepts "Let's go. The others already left." He adds when Julian looks at the door anxiously.

They leave the building together, Julian gets into Dons car without much question. Traffic bustles around them but Julian silently stares out of the window, frown etched deep into his features. The lights of the cars create tiny kaleidoscopes on the wet glass and he can feel Dons worried eyes on him at every stoplight.  

He turns his head to look at Don after the car stops outside his building "Thanks."

"Anytime." he says genuinely.

"You wanna come in? Bein' alone sounds like a shitty idea right now."

Don answers by killing the engine and they enter the brownstone together. 

Julians third floor apartment is spacious with an open kitchen and living room. It looks well lived in, homy in a way of scattered books and a leather couch softended from years of use. Tidier than he expected considering the permanent state of mess that his desk is. 

They sit in comfortably silence for a while, neither in the mood for conversation after the events of the day. The room is bathed in a warm light, nothing compared to the harsh, blueish neon lights at the office and Don catches himself looking at the other man from his spot by the kitchen counter.

Without the sunglasses there's no shield to hide his expressive, soulful eyes. Julian has the kind of enamouring, destructive beauty about himself that makes it impossible to look away, it catches you and holds onto you with the promise of a bad ending but it doesn't matter because you're already addicted. 

"Enjoying the view?"

"Always." he answers ironically and it's only half a lie. He expects a bitingly witty remark in return but Julian remains quiet.

A darkness settles over his face when he asks "Do you believe in afterlife?"

"No." Don answers truthfully.

"Why not?" there's no judgement in his voice, just curiosity. 

He shrugs "I just don't think there's more than rotting six feet under. What about you?"

For a brief moment the space between them is still and the air in the room shifts. 

Julian raises from the couch and walks across the room slowly, coming to a halt rigth in front of him"I believe in the now."  he looks straight into Dons green eyes, cold an clear like a winters day "I believe in living."

Don lips part slightly, heat pools in his stomach. Head faintly tilted upwards he looks at Julian thorugh his long lashes, such a tease. Another step forwards closes the distance between them, seals their lips together without a second thought.

The rush of blood through their veins feels like a high, they stood amidst dozens of bodies but they walked away, lived, live right now more than anything and its addicting like a drug cursing through their systems.

Julian pushes him against the kitchen counter so hard he gasps and grabs the cold marble for support.

A fire is burning behind Julians eyes, he looks at him like Eve looked at the forbidden fruit and takes a bite so big the sweet juice drips down his chin knowing they are doomed.

They leave a trail of clothes on the way to the bedroom, the buttons of Dons shirt fly off and scatter across the bedroom floor when Julian  tears through the fabric to reach the pale skin underneath and he drinks in the sight before him. He wants to say something, anything to describe what it does to him but there is no time when he feels the clasp of his belt getting undone.

In a way Don has always known, there is something about the almost ridiculously toxic display of masculinity that gave Julian away. 

Julian pushes him down on the matress and it feels as if someone turned up the contrast of the world, every line becomes sharper, the darkness darker, wrong turns right and he loves every second of it. Loves the bite of nails on his back, carding his hands through hair, burying himself in the heat.

The ecstasy fades but the high stays when Julian gets up to  get rid of the condom. Don stretches with a content sigh while Julian rummages through the bedside table. He lies back down and tosses Don a pack of cigarettes after fishing one out one for himself. 

"Thought that's a nasty habit?" he asks with a flash in his eye and accepts the offered lighter.

"It is," Julian says with the cigarette stuck between his lips before he reclines against the headboard and puts a tiny ashtray on his thigh "Thats why it isn't a habit I keep."

Don shakes his head in the way he always does and takes another drag, savouring the slight burn. Fuck, he missed it. "How did you know?" 

Julian shrugs nonchalantly "Just did." he angles his head to look at Don who lies next to him with his eyes half closed, beats of sweat still glistening on his chest, looking so beautifully undonde he wants to devour him all over again "Besides, I don't recall you complaining."

The remark makes him chuckle, low and rumbling, before he leans over to stub out the cigarette "No complaints." he says softly, his face inches away from Julians and his dark gaze lingers for a heartbeat before he swiftly moves to get up. Still a fuckin' tease in Julians opinion and it doesn't make things easier. 

"Where you goin'?"

"Shower."   

Julian briefly considers following him but ultimately decides against it, lights another cigarette instead and allows the events of the night to sink in while he listens to the sounds of the shower running. There were many things he would've expected to happen but not this. The clarity he felt earlier evaporated and left behind an uncomfortable amount  of questions.  If it would've been someone else he'd put it off as a response to relief some pressure, a coping mechanism to release some endorphins after a terrible day, but this is different. They are no two strangers who met at a random bar, two lives whose lines only crossed for one single night before parting again. There is quiet a big possibility for this to turn awkward, or worse, impact their work at the task force. 

His train of thought is interrupted by the bathroom door opening to reveal Don  with nothing but a towel slung around his waist, hair still damp and looking for his clothes. Julian watches him get dressed but doesn't say anything, suddenly unsure how to handle the situation.  

Don bends down to pick up the ruined shirt and shoots Julian a look who just grins at him but then gets up to pull a black jumper from the wardrobe "Here." he tosses the piece of clothing across the room and Don catches it.

"You owe me a shirt." is the only thing he says before he leaves.

Julian catches himself peering through the half drawn blinds, watches Don exit the building and get in his car. He doesn't know why he does it, maybe part of him hopes he turns around and comes back upstairs. After the car pulls away from the kerb he goes back to bed without showering, lies sprawled between sheets that smell like sex and mistakes and wonders. 

The next morning the shower gel stings in the scratches Don left on his back as a souvenier of last night. 

He puts on a black button down and leaves for work.

Chapter Text

***

It's six months after the first time they fell in bed together when Julian asks him to stay the night.

Don dries off after taking a shower and reaches for his pants but Julian catches his wrist.

"Stay." he humms and spins the other man around to face him  "Just for tonight."

 Don looks at him with his head slightly tilted upwards, his unkempt hair falling across his forehead creating an almost boyish look. There really is no reason for him to leave, its a Friday night and they have the weekend off but staying the night has never been something they do.  

Julian doesn't wait for his answer and simply pulls him back underneath the soft sheets with him, relishing the feeling of their bodies melting against each other so effortlessly. The other man curls against him, a small sigh ghosting over his neck before he leans in to kiss him, lazy and soft and sweet.  

Julian opens his eyes and feels like is lost at sea, drifting with the currents. Their faces are still close enough for his lashes to brush over Dons brow every time he blinks and the moment comes but doesn't pass, time stands still in a dream like moment and the world stops existing. 

He knows its not forever, nothing is, and it is the transience that makes the moment feel so much more intense. It's in moments like these that he feels alive with the heat of another body next to him, breaths ghosting over his skin and the knowledge that the second the next day dawns it'll all be over.

Except that its not.

They'll go to work separately, always, but more days, or nights rather, they spend together than apart.

He knows its beginning to cloud his judgement, he worries too much when they go in the field together, more than a partner should. He also knows its one sided, knows that at some point Don will move on and they'll just be partners again. He knows.

It's wrong, it's against the rules of the FBI, they'll get caught eventually. 

Deep inside him he knows which is why he's enjoying the moments they share while they last. Don is completely different from the guys he used to be with, most of them had been younger, edgy or at least trying to be. None of his relationships had lasted for more than a year. This was different. It was by no means a relationship, it was more like a friends with benefits thing, but it felt more like one than most of his previous flings. To him Don is like french toast on a Sunday morning, the kind of guy you'd drive down the highway with in the middle of the night listening to Tom Petty.

They're more than they used to be and he doesn't know what to make of it.

His thoughts carry him so far away that he doesn't notice how much time passed but when he looks over he finds Don fast asleep, half draped across his chest and face tucked comfortably in the nape of Julians neck.

Gently he cards his fingers through his hair, soft and still a little damp from the shower, along the delicate line of his neck and down across freckled shoulders. His gaze lands on the scar from Belgrade, long healed and nothing more than a small spot of puckered scar tissue now but his gut still clenches at the memory. Back then they were nowhere near as close as they're now but he vividly remembers holding Dons unconcious body that night in Belgrade, freezing and soaking wet from rain and blood, the same body that he holds in his arms now, here, in the warmth very own bedroom, almost two years later.   

He reaches across the bedside table to switch of the light before he turns around to curl around the man sleeping soundly next to him. 

When Don wakes up it's still early, the sun barely up. The February morning casts a cool light through the large bedroom window and he looks over to find Julian still fast asleep. His lazy gaze rests on Julians face, soft and relaxed, all guards down and so damn beautiful he can physically feel it. 

He knows he's falling in love, knows the feeling of standing on a cliff while the rock is crumbling away beneath his feet but it's already too late to step back, to stop the inevitable chain of events. It's the moment between standing on solid ground and free falling, right then and there but he know he's already lost.

Julian already means too much to him, gets under his skin too much to step back and let go. 

This was never meant to happen but here they are, it's not just sex anymore but actually falling asleep next to each other. There was always an unspoken rule between them: No hard feelings. Rules are meant to be broken...right?

He brushes the tips of his fingers along the curve of Julians spine, nothing but a light caress hoping he wouldn't wake him up, gently traces the outline of the tribal tattoo on his left bicep and remembers the first time he noticed it. He's made some sarcastic remark about it but Julian shrugged it off. "2003 was a crazy year Donnie."

"You could get rid of it."

"Nah," he said "some mistakes are meant to be remembered."

The moment Julian said those words is a vivid memory, like a polaroid. Is that what they are, a mistake, he wonders quietly still looking at Julians sleeping form next to him. After a glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table he decides that it is definititely way too early to be up on a day off and pushes the worry into the furthest corner of his mind, replacing it with the warmth of Julians body against his side and the gentle scent of the sheets, of 'together'.

A few hours later he wakes again to find Julian gone but sounds from the kitchen are seeping through the bedroom door together with the smell of fresh coffee. 

He finds Julian pouring two cups from a Bialetti, his smile upon noticing him hitting something deep inside him. 

"Morning sleepyhead." he says with a genuine smile and pushes one of the mugs across the kitchen counter. 

Don accepts the mug with a unintelligible mutter and takes a slow sip of coffee. Years of FBI still haven't managed to turn him into a morning person, contrary to Julian apparently who watches him with amusement from the other side of the counter. 

They spent the morning together, lazy and sweet and way too close. 

It feels good, too good. 

Way too good. 

Chapter Text

Macau, 2011

"Our target," the magnet pins the photo to the whiteboard with cold click "From what sources tell us he's one of Reddingtons suppliers, he's been hiding in Macau for the better part of the last year. Likes gambling. Pack your bags gentlemen."

A day later Julian checks his reflection in the mirror of a nondescript hotel room in Macau. The last time he wore the tux was to his sisters wedding. The marriage didn't last but the tux still fits like a glove. 

They meet in Pete's room to go over the details of their mission one last time before heading to the casino in separate cars. In theory it was as simple as it gets, in and out without raising attention, but they all knew from experience that nothing involving Reddington was ever simple. Sam, Julian and Don were to go in, the others stayed by the van parked at the back exit of the casino.  

"Alright then boys, let's go."

The casino entrance is lined with red and orange lights that bathe the street in a surreal glow, a dragon on top of it, fire breathing muzzle wide open. The doors are decorated with lavish wooden carvings and lampions hanging on each side. They're close to the coast, a whiff of ocean breeze drifts through the humid air when Julian leaves his car keys at the valet parking and looks around. Not far from him but still at a safe distance he spots Don entering the casino, tailored black tuxedo hugging his shoulders and waist. After leaving a generous tip he walks through the doors and across a vast foyer, the red velvety carpet silencing his steps. 

"You in?" Sam asks over his earpiece. 

"Yeah." he answers in a low voice and spots Don by the cloakroom, signalling him to come over with a discreet gesture.

"At the bar in ten minutes?" Julian asks casually and hands of his coat.

"Yeah. Check for exits." Don answers and pushes away from the counter before anyone could notice their conversation.

The main room of the casino is a cacophony of sounds and lights, people mingling across the floor around Roulette and Black Jack tables. Julian makes a beeline for the back of the room, follows a waiter to find the kitchen before circling the room once again before making his way towards the bar. He watches a pretty barkeeper preparing the Whiskey Sour he ordered before returning his attention to the crowd. 

Precisely ten minutes after his arrival he is joined by Sam and Don, casually sliding on the stools next to him one after the other. 

"Any sign of our man?" Sam asks in a low voice. 

"Not yet." Don answers without looking at him. 

They linger at the Bar for a few more minutes before leaving one by one to mingle with the crowd and keep an eye out.

Julian walks towards the large staircase at the far end of the room, takes a left at the top and strides along the gallery walk leading to the VIP rooms on the second floor. He scans the crowd bustling beneath for a few minutes before walking along the wall and back staircase to check the spare rooms for activity. The neon lit back corridor turns out to be empty, only a few casino employees cross his path. He peers around the corner before returning to the gallery walk and is about to make his way back to the staircase when he feels a pair of strong hands close around his neck before he is pulled into a dark room, door falling close behind him with a final sounding thud. Hands search him and take away his gun and earpiece before they leave him abruptly to shove him forwards into the dark. 

The lights come on suddendly causing him to squint against the brightness. He's inside a storage room, chairs are stacked against the wall alsongside folded spare tables, three men are in the room with him guarding the exits and right in the centre of the room, sat by one of said tables is Raymond Reddington himself. He wears a black three piece suit with a matching bow tie and fedora, looking like he just left the roulette table to get a drink from the bar. 

"Hello Agent Gale." he greets him smoothly. 

Julians shoulders square "How do you know my name?" he asks sharply, working hard not to give away the shock of seeing the man who they hunted for the last three and a half years right in front of him.

Reddington laughs wholeheartedly and shakes his head before he looks at the dark skinned man stood closest to him "See, that's what I was talking about." he exclaims before turning back to Julian "Do you really believe I wouldn't know who my prosecutors are? I thought you'd be smarter than that, but on the other hand if you were you probably wouldn't be working for the FBI after all."

Julians eyes narrow "What do you want?" he cuts to the chase, mentally accessing any possible exit strategies. 

Reddington leans back in his chair and cocks his head, lips curling into an enigmatic smile "What is it you want, Agent Gale. Here, in this Casino."

"You know damn well." 

"Ah, you might want to reconsider that." he retorts and with a wave of a hand the dark skinned man steps forward to hand Reddington an envelope "You see I've always liked folders and papers and such things." he starts and waves the envelope around, Julian watching him closely "We live in such dramatic times, don't you think? All this computers getting smarter and smarter by the day but you know what is more secure than any firewall or server or whatever they might call it?" he takes a rhetorical brake and opens the envelope "This right here. Paper. Unhackable, untraceable, ah I always liked the smell of worn paper from a file cabinet in a dusty office. So many memories."

Julian listens to his little monologue, eyes never leaving the criminal and he knows he won't stand a chance so he has no other option then to wait for whatever is coming for him. He watches him pull a bunch of photographs from the manila envelope and gently putting them on the table before him before taking a sip from the glass of Scotch next to him. 

"Come closer Agent Gale, don't be shy." 

Deciding that he doesn't have much of a choice he approaches the table catiously and Reddington pushes the photos across the table towards him. He stops the sliding paper with the tips of his fingers but pulls his hand back quickly when he realizes what he is looking at. 

"Yes, I keep a close eye on my prosecutors." Reddington says, his voice gaining a dangerous edge and their eyes meet like colliding steel.

"What do you want?" Julian asks again and can't keep his voice from trembling.

"I want you to know that I have enough to crush you and your little squad like the unimportand little pests you are. Imagine these photos in the right hands Julian."

The use of his first name only adds to the rage bubbling up inside him but he restrains himself, still trying to work out any sort of plan to inform Sam and Don know what's happening. He knows it's a strategy to unsettle him but he's not willuing to play along. 

"If you have so much why didn't you blow us up already?" he asks in an attempt to buy himself some more time, eyes darting back and front between Reddington, his guards and the door. 

Reddington chuckles "To be honest I don't know. You might turn out to be useful at some point and I don't like wasting opportunities."

Julian steps back from the table "What happens now?" 

"Nothing happens, you go back to your fellow agents I go back to my business, what did you expect?" Reddington asks as if it was the most obviuos thing in the world "But remember, I know your little secret." he adds in a low voice, making it clear who is the one in charge of the situation. 

The second he finishes the sentence a gun is pointed towards the back of Julians head.

"Out." one of the guards orders and they start making their way towards the door. Reddington remains at the table, their gazes brushing one last time before he is out of the room. His gun and earpiece is pushed back into his hands with a look of the guard that insinuates he's better off not entering that room again. 

The moment he puts the earpiece back in he hears Sams voice, pulling him back into the now "Gale? God damnit where are you?"

"I'm here." he says in a low voice and walks away from the door "Sorry, thing didn't work. Back online now."

"Copy that." it's Don's voice in his ear now and he feels a wave of guilt hitting him "Find anything?"

"Nope, all clear." he lies "Guess our date blew us off." he swiftly rounds a corner and casually walks down the stairs towards the vast main floor. 

About halfway across the room the other two agents join him and they gather in a secluded corner by the cloakroom to discuss their next steps. Julian is only half aware of what's being said, adrenaline still rushing through his veins. Don gives him a slightly concerned sideways glance but doesn't ask about his strange behaviour. 

They go back to the hotel about an hour later, all still jet lagged and more than annoyed that they'll have to be coming back the next day. Julian wordlessly heads to his room, closing the door behind himself only to lean against it, releasing a heavy sigh. 

"What the fuck." he mutters under his breath, cards a hand through his hair and kicks off his shoes.

He tries to sleep that night but fails, the lights of the city casting midnight rainbows into his room but it's not the lights or the noise of the city that keep him from sleeping.

It's the image of Reddington pushing shiny photos of him and Don across the table, naked and kissing in some hotel room that keep him from sleeping. Good knows where it was and more importantly, god knows who took those photos or how. Of all the things that could've gone wrong, this was by far the worst. How the hell did Reddington learn of their affair he asks himself over and over like a mantra. 

After hours of tossing and turning with too many pictures playing out in his head like scenes of a film he throws the thin covers aside and gets up swiftly, looks out of the floor length window into a jungle of lights. His brain is running at double speed, working up scenarios of what would happen if Reddington really decided to pass those cursed photos on to the FBI. He wants to dive into the sea of lights and disappear like a fish in a lagoon, longs to dive deeper and deeper until he won't be found. 

He cards a hand through his hair and leans against the cool glass, gaze drifting to the wall behind the bed. All of him wants, needs to sneak out of the room and to the other side of the wall where he knows Don is sleeping soundly, unknowing of what happened today in that cursed storage room, but he knows he can't got there. Every fibre of him yearns for the comfort of a familiar body, a place to hide from the web of lies Reddington dragged him into tonight but he knows there's no way to hide from the truth. Their little dance has gone on for long enough without being discovered, it's a cruel twist of fate but everything has to end in one way or another. 

They were doomed from the second they fell in bed together and now they're endangering the whole task force because Raymond fucking Redddington has leverage on them. 

Chapter Text

On a cold, misty morning in 2017 a black SUV pulls up outside a cabin. 

A man in a black suit and coat gets out and scans his surroundings with a skilled eye before he locks the vehicle and makes his way across the small clearing towards the front door. He knows he's being watched form behind the thin curtains. 

The door opens only seconds after the man rapped his knuckles on the chipped wooden door. 

"Agent Gale?" the man asks curtly.

Thick dark brows knit over even darker eyes  "Who wants to know?" 

"I was sent here by the Attorney General." the man says instead and moves his jacket to reveal the badge on his belt. 

"Aha," Julian returns and leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest "And what could the Attorney General want from me?" he asks mockingly.

"I think it would be best if me moved inside." the man suggests firmly but Julian simply looks at him for a second before he slowly shakes his head.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me who you are and what you want."

The man stares back at the disgraced agent on front of him. To be honest, when they send him to find who seems to be the last living member of the Reddington Task Force available for an assignment he'd expected something else. What he hadn't expected was to find a man in a brown knit sweater that seemed too large, with a sharp cut face telling the story of many laughs but even more sorrow and eyes boring right down into his soul. The man started to feel unease creeping up his neck.

"That's a matter of national security." the man works hard to keep his tone neutral.

"Shame." is the only answer he receives before Gale turns his back to him and is about to close the door behind him.

"Reddington." the man says louder than necessary, giving in. Gale freezes on the spot and looks at him over his shoulder like a haunted man. "Are you gonna let me in now?"

"What do you know about Reddington?" 

They're inside the cabin now, stood by the small kitchen counter opposite each other "I know you were a member of the Task Force that hunted him for five years." he reaches into the pocket of his coat and tosses a photo on the counter "You might want to have a look at this."

"What's this?"

"86 bodies at an ice rink in Reston. All tied to Reddington in one way or another."

Gale's gaze snaps up from the photo and he drops it on the counter as if it was suddenly red hot "No."

The man shifts his weight and straightens up "I expected you to say that." his voice suddenly becomes sharp "Must I remind you that with your list of shall we say, exploits," he pauses, closely watching the other mans reaction "Saying no isn't really an option here, is it Agent Gale?" 

Julian doesn't answer, features hard like marble he stares at the other Agent. 

"The A.G. expects you in D.C. by tomorrow. I suggest a shave." 

Without another word, the stranger turns on his heel and  leaves.

Julian still stands by the kitchen counter, gripping the edge so hard his knuckles turn white trying to control his breathing. 

Four years after the Task Force has been disbanded, four years of trying to get his life back on track and fix the holes and rips five years of chasing a man across the globe tore into his life. Five years of too little sleep and too many wrong choices. He tries to fit the pieces together of why they approached him, they were five Agents in total, four of them with a way less flaunted file then himself. Why not Sam, Pete, hell even Bobby Jonica or...

Don. 

"Fuck." the curse tumbles from his lips as memories come flooding his mind of the nights they spent together, desperately seeking some sort of comfort and relief, of normality in this shit show the Task Force had turned their lives into. Obsession burned so deep in both of them that it had extinguished everything that makes life worth living. 

He grabs his phone and opens the contacts, scrolls down and...

Who the hell knows if the number is still active. Who know if he's still with the FBI, or alive even. 

Who the hell knows.

Chapter Text

***

"This is ridiculous, even for Reddingtons standards."

They're in the middle of the Mexican desert, surrounded by nothing but red sand and a few scarse bushes scattered between the dunes. About half a mile away, the ruins of a church are visible in the distance, cliffs of red and yellow sandstone looming behind them. The sun has just set, the last rays peeking over the horizon while the sky is already turning blue in the east. The lines in the sand cast shadows that become wider by the second, creating the illusion of the sand turning into waves of rumbling water. 

"A meeting in the ruins of a church in the middle of the desert? At night?" Don deadpans and looks over at his partner "Just another Thursday."

Julian shakes his head and grins "Crazy son of a bitch."

The wind howls, blowing sand on the back of their heads and over their coats. They're hidden between the tips of two dunes in safe distance to the church, alone, but there are forces on stand by to make the arrest. 

"Imagine we made it tonight, Donnie." Julian whispers although there's no reason to "Imagine we finally put him behind bars."

"Odds are against us." Don answers, ever the realist "You know the intel we got was shit. Who knows what's gonna happen tonight, and you know what I'm not really keen on finding out."

Julian gives him an irritated look "What's going on with you?"

"I got a bad feeling about this."

"Well, let's hope it won't come true." he answers under his breath, squinting in the darkness.

The sun had fully set by then, the sand shining bright in the pale moonlight and Julian reaches behind him to get the night vision binocular from the bag.

"Anything?"

"Nah." Julian puts the binocular down "And if there was anyone coming, the scouts by the roads would radio us."

Don lets out out an annoyed sigh and cracks his neck "Let's run through it again."

"Whats's there to run through?" his partner replies slightly annoyed "He shows up, we radio back up, bada-bing bada-boom. There's nowhere for him to go, I mean look around." he waves his hand in front of them "Besides, it's not like sand makes good back up."

"You know what irks me? We don't know who he's meeting."

"Could be anybody." Julian remarks briefly and resumes watching the church through the binocular. 

"Exactly. That anybody could very easily turn into a big fucking problem." Don says darkly. 

"We almost never know everything about an operation Donnie, its never been a problem over the years, why now?"

" 'cause we're in the middle of fucking nowhere, again, with backup miles away..." 

He is interrupted by the sound of the radio, waits for Julian to reply something in Spanish.

"Two jeeps just left the road about two miles east." Julian translates, his eyes darting back and forth between his partner and the church.

"Did they see who it was?" 

"No but there are not really anywhere else they could be heading, there's nothing but the church in a ten mile radius."

Silence falls, the cold desert winds howling around them. 

About five minutes later, the sound of engines drift though the cool night air. Two Jeeps come into view, their headlights break through the darkness, illuminating the front of the church and the cliffs as they park in front of the building. The engines fall silent but the lights stay on, brightly illuminating the area around the church. 

Then, nothing happens. Nobody gets out of the Jeeps. There's nothing but silence.

"This is just perfect." Julian mumbles, referring to the cars standing facing away from them, the headlights creating a shield of light against the darkness making it impossible for anyone standing in front of them to see what's going on behind the cars. 

"Whoever this is, he's feeling safe." Don asserts in a neutral tone, the ears in his brain still grinding who Reddington could possibly meet at this godforsaken place. 

"Could be worse, huh. Come on." Julian jerks his head in the general direction of the church "Let's see who thinks nobody's gonna stab him in the back." 

They move backwards slowly, decending the dune around the far side facing away from the scene, only the moonlight illuminating their path. Once they reach the foot of the large dune they crouch behind a dead tree surrounded by a couple of small bushes hiding them from unwanted eyes. The now muted radio is blinking, notifying them that their back up trying to reach them but Julian doesn't dare answering it this close to their target. 

Not even a minute later Reddingtons signature sleek black S-Class comes into view. Watching the car coming to a halt directly across the two Jeeps facing towards them Ressler can't help but shake his head, no matter the terrain, Reddington just had to show off. 

The driver side door of the Mercedes opens, revealing his body guard who walks towards the rear door to open it for his boss. 

"Reddington."

Julian is about to radio for back up but Don stops his hand when the diver side door of one of the Jeeps opens "Wait. Let's see who he's with." 

A dark figure gets out of the car just to open the passenger side door of the other Jeep and get in. The Engine starts and the car pulls away. 

"What the fuck?"

"Maybe they just used two cars to distract...whoever. Who cares."

Reddington slowly approaches the car, closely followed by his guard, seemingly as confused as they are about the sudden derparture. 

Julian and Don exchange a quick look, deciding in the fraction of a second that now#s the time. 

"FBI!"

Reddington startles, his bodyguard immediately opening fire while his boss makes his way to safety behind the bulletproof windows of the car.  

The doors of the Mercedes slam as they slide from a run to cover behind the remaining Jeep, too busy to notice that there was still no movement from the car. 

Julian aims from behind the back of the Jeep to shoot the tires when Dons gaze falls through one of the windows of the Jeep, suddenly widening when he sees a mess of cables and what he can only guess to be C4.

"Get away from car!" he shouts over the chaos, mindlessly grabbing Julians sleeve to pull him away from the car bomb. 

They barely make it a couple hundred feet away from the car before it burst into a ball of flames, the shockwave pushing them both to the ground and covering them in a shower of dust and gravel. 

None of them sees Reddingtons car speeding away in the distance. 

A beautifully clear sky full of stars stretches above the crumbling church and a the burning wreck of a car. 

It is the first thing Don sees when he opens his eyes again, blinks dust and tears away, breath shuddering from his lungs in short gasps. He rolls over slowly, anchors his palm against the sand to push himself up, tries to feel his body for injuries but everything seems strangely numb. He sits there for a few seconds and just breathes, sluggish mind working to progress what had just happened when suddenly it hits him. 

Julian.

He looks around, the flames blindingly bright against the pitch black surrounding them until he spots him only a few feet away, right next to a piece of debris. 

Scrambling to his feet he tries to get to him, stumbles and falls to his knees next to his partner.

"Hey," he croaks, instinctively reaching out to brush some dust off of the other mans face "Julian." it falls from his lips like a cry for help.

Juians lids flutter before he blinks and looks up at Don. The light of the fire make his hair shine like flames, engulfing his face like a halo but his bright green eyes are clouded with fear "Donnie?"

"Thank god," he breathes and offers him a hand that Julian gladly accepts "Are you ok?" 

Julian takes a second before answering but finally nods "Yeah, think so." he says voice sounding thin and distraught "You?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Julian nods again but doesn't say anything, they sit in front of each other for a few seconds, both processing before Julian suddenly reaches out and pulls him close, holding onto him like dear life. 

"Fuck." is all he manages to say before he feels Dons arms tighten around him.

"I know." tears lace his voice but it doesn't matter.

They break apart when they hear sirens approaching from the distance, both look towards the noise to see four local police cars approaching. 

By 3 AM they're back at the hotel after a thorough check up at a local hospital. Without words they both go to their separate rooms to take showers and collect their thoughts.

Julians room has a tiny balcony overlooking the parking lot at the back and the desert stretching behind it. There are no lights in the parking lot below his window so there is nothing but a sea of darkness outside the small glass door. He tosses the towel which he used to dry his hair on the bed carelessly before replacing the towel around his waist with a pair of thin sweats and a jumper. A chilly breeze welcomes him outside and he leans his arms on the railing, the old metal jarring under his weight. 

By tomorrow the weight of tonights events will have caught up with him, he know all too well, but for now he is still in the empty halo between. They say the soul takes double the amount of time to catch up with you when you're travelling. There's a weird parallel to almost getting blown up he muses. 

He notices he never locked the door behind him when it suddenly opens.