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Gram heard the commotion before realizing what it was. The men around him, in the wide room he was tied up in, all looked across to the door outside, where there was a strange noise. It almost sounded like Yok’s fireworks. Gram squinted forward with a bit of trouble, since he’d taken a couple hits to the head when they got him, and it had been hours now. God, his head was killing him. Gram looked down at his body — he was in a heavy decorative wooden chair, set in an abandoned office lobby. He was zip tied to the arm rests, and the legs, with a rope around his middle as well, and the chair itself was in the middle of the lobby, with a view of the papered over windows, the front door, and the big reception desk. It seemed like an insecure place to put him, but the building itself was definitely abandoned, so it probably didn’t matter.
The four guys guarding him looked bored, until the noise outside started.
“What—”
“Shut up!” Two of the guards exchanged words, and Gram felt the beginnings of hope stir up inside him.
Black came in like a bottle rocket; no stealth, all explosive force. He was carrying a bat, like he favored, and the first guard was down on the floor before Gram could blink. Two guards rushed forward, clumsy in their shock, and Black didn’t hesitate. The last guy aimed his gun but didn’t want to shot his colleague, and Black used that to his advantage, rushing forward, bat swinging.
Outside the room they were in, the noise was growing, not just fireworks, but shouting, both angry and triumphant. A crowd? Then, behind Black, the door to the room opened, and Sean and another figure came tearing in, pursued by more men. Sean peeled off to fight alongside Black, their second-best fighter tag teaming against the armed guards, a bat and a metal rod against guns. It made Gram’s stomach leap to his throat, but they were holding their own.
The other figure who had entered with Sean and Black beelined towards Gram, a knife glinting in his hand. It took Gram a moment to realize that, though he was dressed differently, the face in front of him, sawing at the zip ties, was Black’s.
“Wha— Black?” Gram’s eyes darted to Black, who he knew very well was fighting fiercely just across the room. “Wait a second?” Gram was too concussed for this.
The Black look-alike gave him a wincing smile, which was definitely not right on Black’s face, and moved to Gram’s other hand.
“Ah, sorry, no, my name is White,” White said, “I’m Black’s twin.”
Gram blinked at him, confusing warring with everything else that had happened.
“Oh.” Gram said, his head throbbing as he tried to process that Black had a twin? “I’m Gram.”
White winced again as he cut through Gram’s wrist zip tie, and dropped to the floor to get the ties on Gram’s legs.
“I know,” White said, mysteriously. He got the tie off, and cut the last one too, before standing and putting a hand out. “Are you alright? Can you stand?”
Gram took White’s hand, looking over at the real Black, who was back to back with Sean and fighting the last two guys. Neither of them was Techit, though Gram was sure he’d been around. There was definitely a crowd outside as well, shouting clearer to let something go. White looked over too, and then his eyes widened.
“Look out!” he screamed, just as gunfire burst onto the scene. Black and Sean dove behind the reception desk, and White dragged Gram to follow them. None of the guards had fired their weapons, but there Techit was, aiming his gun, surrounded by other guys and guns, just like last night. Gram’s breath got short in his chest, as he collapsed on weak limbs behind the desk. He was gonna get captured again, they were pinned down, no one would help them, oh god-
“Hey!” There was a hand on his face, and suddenly Gram was looking into the stern gaze of Black. His own Black, the one who’d been fighting. Gram’s head was spinning with panic and pain, but Black held his cheek, and glared the anxiety into submission.
“It’s you,” Gram said, nonsensically. Of course, it was Black, who else would it be? But there was an identical twin, apparently, and White was hovering over Sean, as they all leaned against the underside of the desk, shelter from the bullets that scattered down over them. White had an expression on his face, as he looked at Sean in worry and affection, that seemed familiar. That seemed wrong. Something clunked into place, and Gram’s eyes boggled. “Oh my god, it’s been you?!”
His Black blinked at him, but Gram was talking to White. White, who startled and looked at him with a guilty look on his face, another expression he’d never seen Black make. Oh god, Gram was an idiot.
“What the fuck?!”
“Gram, we’ll explain later, can you focus?” Black, the real one, snapped, slapping his face lightly where he was still touching him. Touching him, like White hadn’t done in months. What the fuck was happening.
“He put that together with a concussion, I’m impressed,” Sean said, with a little grin, and White jabbed him with an elbow.
“Sean,” he hissed.
Black was still looking at him, trying to communicate something to him with his eyes, but Gram was now looking over Black’s face for the discrepancies, something to prove that it was the real Black and not White, pretending. Something to indicate how long it had been, or to give him a hint of why, or what happened. The only thing he could see if that his Black looked furious, and he looked ill, pale, and sweatier than he should be after just a few fights. Was he thinner?
“What happened to you? Where have you been?” Gram asked, and Black growled, glancing up at Techit and the others, who were presumably waiting to shoot them if they popped out. Black didn’t answer, but instead looked at Sean and White.
“Where the fuck is the cavalry?”
White, strangely, was on his phone — Black’s phone, actually, by the case — and typing furiously.
“Any minute now.”
Black looked up again, and whatever he saw made him pale even more. “I don’t know if we have a minute, Nong,” he said, and Gram’s heart started to beat faster again. He didn’t like the fear in Black’s face, another unfamiliar expression, except this one really was on his Black.
“Phi, don’t—” White started, but Black grit his teeth, and looked at Sean.
“Take care of my brother, asshole,” Black said, and White reached out and gripped Black’s sleeve, his eyes welling up.
“No,” White said, and Black leaned across Gram to hug White very quickly, nearly shoving him back after squeezing him once, even though White tried to cling on. Then, Black swallowed, glanced up at the approaching gunmen again, and then did something that made Gram’s heart actually stop.
He swooped in to press a kiss just off center of Gram’s mouth.
Then he was gone, taking Gram's oxygen with him, and the guns were firing again.