Confide in me, Agent Ressler (Blacklist fanfic)

Pained silence

Donald's POV

Pain radiated throughout his body.  He couldn't feel anything except the pain. Donald didn't feel the cold table he was still strapped to, he didn't feel the leather binding that held his ankles and wrist down.

He didn't know how long they let him bleed on the table, how long since they had shot him, or cut into him. And he wasn't entirely sure what all they did to him, at some point he passed out. 

When he woke up, he was still bound to the table.

He felt the shock pour into him, finally coming back. He went cold, his body drenched in sweat and it was like the pain was gone for a moment.

Temporary reprieved. He could think of something other than the pain. He let himself think about Charlotte.  He thought of her dark chocolate colored eyes, her soft mouth. He thought of how she made him forget all the bad in the world.

But it didn't make him feel better, because she was somewhere. Away from him, with that guard who's voice made Donald's blood boil.

She was in danger, and he could do nothing about it.

The pain flooded back in, making him groan despite him trying not to.

It was paralyzing, though he couldn't move much before hand, he could move now. Everything hurt. He didn't notice someone had entered the room until the person spoke.

"Well Mr. Ressler, well. Or shall I say Agent Ressler? My apologies on not using your proper title. And for this whole ordeal. You see, your fiancée has something I need. I hope you don't take this personally. " Beaugard pressed down on his leg wound.

He screamed, it reminded him of Anslo Garrick. When his men shot his leg and it almost killed Donald.

"She's not motivated enough, I'm thinking we need to motivate her more tomorrow. But for tonight. Let you rest. We need you fresh for tomorrow." He paused. "Medics come in please"

Donald passed out again before they entered the room.

~~
When he woke up, he was on a different table. This one wasn't metal, and he was in slightly less pain. His wrists and ankles were still tied down.

With great effort, he managed to lift his head up enough to gather his bearings. Different room than the one he was tortured in. His leg wound had a bandage in it, same with the cuts.

His legs aches, as did his abdomen area. His head pounded.

He sent a silent prayer that Charlotte was okay. That she wasn't injured.
He prayed that the task force would find them.

"Awake at last," The man with the Boston accent returned. "I'm so glad. It's been hours, and the boss grew terribly worried. I don't know why, you were just an unwanted surprise. You see when we first started looking into that bitch of a girlfriend you have, we saw you. And we had to improvise. Decided to take you with us. I'll admit you're useful. Can be used as leverage. But it doesn't seem to be working. Because you're useless, completely and utterly useless."

Donald spit in his face, "go to hell,"

The man punched him, hard.

"You prick." Donald guessed he was about to do something else because another guard stepped in the room.

"Scott. Stop. Silas is going to be upset you even spoke to him. Back to your position" a harsh female voice snapped.

They left. Stomping as they did.

Donald embraces the darkness as it claimed him in an uneasy sleep.
~~

"Donald. Wake up. Please Donnie wake up" Charlotte sounded like she had been crying for hours.

Donald's eyes flickered open, his vision was blurry but he saw her. Beautiful dark eyes wet with tears and deep concern.

"Lottie," he breathed. She started crying.

"Thank god, you're awake. Baby oh thank tid you're okay." She gently kissed him.

"You okay?" He couldn't manage more than that. Breathing and talking hurt.

"You were just tortured forever hours and you're wondering if I'm okay?"

He nodded. She gave a laugh that was more like a sob.

"I'm okay. After you passed out again they moved you van in here with me."

Donald realized he was in the he stayed in room, but still on a table.

"They wouldn't take you down. Said i we only had a few hours before they were separating us. That was a few minutes ago."

He nodded his head again. He felt guilty, but he couldn't think of what to say.

"I'm so sorry Donnie. I couldn't get then to stop. They kept demanding information that I didn't know about. I swear it."

"I believe you," she squeezed his hand. Her gratitude silent.

She cried and he gripped her hand tightly. She didn't seem to care because she didn't pull away.

"I love," he muttered.

"I love you too, rest okay?"

He nodded.

She pulled away.

"No stay, please."

"I will. I'm just going to get a chair. It'll be a second."

Scrapping against the floor, the chair was pulled over. Charlotte grabbed his hand again. Laying her head gently on his uninjured shoulder.

She muttered things to him. Sweet and calming things. They helped a little, in that strange way your partner can make everything a little better.

He still hurt like hell, but she was unharmed.
After an hour or two.
"We will get through this. You hear me, we will get through this."

"I know"

"Good, you'll be back to arresting bad guys soon." She gave a small laugh. It made him smile, despite the pain. That she was trying to make him laugh even on this horrible situation.

"It's not your fault, you know that right?"

Any of her previous laugh died.

"It was, if I gave them information-"

"You didn't know. How can you blame yourself for not knowing what they wanted you to tell? Those sons of bitches are the ones at fault. " it was the most he said in an hour.

She didn't respond, only nodded her head against his shoulder.

They remained like that for three more hours.

"Times up. Night time." And Donald was wheeled out of the room.