Tick Tock Part Three - Dock

Raw

They'd left the car at the scene, so Gavin shot Tina a message about having it picked up. It wasn't the first time shit like this had happened. She'd grab his keys from his desk in the morning and swing by during the day to pick it up. That was something to think about tomorrow. At that particular moment, as Gavin leaned on the elevator wall in the hotel with Nines beside him, all he could think about was how fucking raw it felt. Now that Elijah and Chloe weren't around to distract him, he could feel it pressing in. The cold reality of what had happened. How fucking close it had been. For him, and for Nines.

They'd been pretty much silent after Elijah dropped them off outside. Gavin's brooding had slowly gotten worse during the drive. He'd gone over everything. Every single interaction he'd ever had with Morgan. Their first meeting outside the apartment where he'd shown him pictures of the park. The park where he'd been taking pictures of his own fucking crime scene. The way he'd innocently asked for details and acted so disappointed when he'd insisted he couldn't help because it was an FBI case. The way he'd been so fucking sincere at Aaron's ceremony. The eagerness he'd shown during their interview as he was finally allowed to run the story he'd been planning for months. He couldn't believe Morgan had faked it. If it wasn't for the fact that he'd dosed him with a tranquilliser and he'd felt his hands gripping his throat, Gavin would have thought the Hickory Killer had made a mistake.

That was another thing he couldn't help thinking about. The Hickory Killer. He'd been right there. The man who'd terrorised him. The man who'd killed his partner. The man who'd killed Aaron. The man who'd haunted him for almost four years now. His skin prickled as he remembered the gentle gloved hand on his cheek. It had been so soft. Intimate. He'd handled him like fucking glass. He'd spoken about him so passionately, and he'd been so possessive. He'd tortured Morgan for hours for having the sheer audacity to touch what was his. Phck, I am his...He felt sick at the realisation. He was nothing but a toy for the Hickory Killer to play with as and when he chose.

He felt unbelievably cold as he thought back to the collected way the Hickory Killer had set up the rifle. He'd spoken so fondly about his memories of Jack's death. He'd romanticised his pain and grief. He'd set everything up so perfectly. The rifle. The screen. The rig. The door. Gavin could still feel the ringing in his ears from the crack of the shot. Watching Nines rag-doll on the screen had been one of the worst experiences of his life. He'd failed. For the second time. He'd failed his partner. Nines could have been killed. Would have been killed. It was only luck that had spared him.

Gavin was already trembling and gasping as he fumbled the door open and stumbled inside. He stopped dead as Nines gripped his wrist to stop him from walking away. The door had already clicked shut behind them, likely Nines' doing. He froze. They were both silent as Nines' hand slipped from his wrist to his sternum, pulling him back until they were pressed together, leaning back against the door. Gavin wasn't sure whether Nines lost the strength in his legs or if it was deliberate as he slowly slid them both down the smooth wooden surface to the floor.

Gavin pulled his knees up as he leaned back against Nines' chest. It was warm. It was safe. It was almost cosy. Nines knees were bent on either side, giving him a little shelter to hide in. He felt so fucking cold as he trembled. Nines' arm tightened, pulling him even closer as he wrapped it across his chest. His head leaned forward, resting against his shoulder. He wasn't sure whether Nines was being needy or attentive, but he swore he could see red from the corner of his eye. He heaved in deep, unsteady breaths. Calm the phck down! We're alive! We're safe! We're good!

"Speak to me." It wasn't quite a demand, but it wasn't a plea, either. Where the fuck was he even supposed to start with this shit? How could he even put into words the crushing sense of dread he'd felt? He'd been alone, vulnerable and powerless, in the presence of the monster that had caused his life to fall apart. The man who'd taken everything and just kept fucking taking. He played with people like they were fucking toys. He chose people for no other reason than to get a reaction from him. He'd chosen Nines. He'd targeted his partner. "Gavin." Nines nuzzled his neck almost comfortingly.