The old warehouse-turned-thrift-store-turned-abandoned-building was on the far side of town, and every second it took to get there was pure agony for Daniel. He tried Ethan's phone twice more, not really expecting an answer. Both times it rang three times, then went to voicemail, Ethan's cheerful "I'm not here, leave a message!" seeming to almost taunt him.

Garrett drove, sirens blaring until they got a couple of miles from their destination; the last thing they needed was for the kidnappers to hear them coming and turn this into a standoff. Daniel was hoping he and Garrett could get inside without anyone seeing them and neutralize the biggest threats before an alarm went up.

However, he was all too aware that they might be too late. The thought of walking in to find Ethan's lifeless body made him feel like he was going to be sick, so he pushed that to the side and focused on the plan.

Garrett parked the car a couple blocks away and the men approached silently, sticking to side alleys and shadows wherever possible. Dusk was falling as they approached, the long shadows of sunset offering ample shadow to hide in. They finally made it to the building in question, and Garrett and Daniel paused, their backs to the outer wall.

"Do a circuit for reconnaissance and meet back on the other side?" Garrett asked, his volume so low he was barely doing more than mouthing the words. Daniel gave a sharp nod, and they went their separate ways.

Walking as quickly as he dared, Daniel moved down the length of the wall, ducking under windows, even the ones that appeared to be papered over or boarded up -- he wasn't taking any chances. When he got to the corner, he paused, peeking around ever so carefully to check that the coast was clear. He'd gotten halfway down that second wall when he heard the voice.

"Who were you working with?" The question was followed by silence, but the fact that it was being asked at all made something in Daniel's chest relax. The sound he heard next, however--

Click-click

It was a sound he'd heard countless times, both from his own weapon and those of his officers; sometimes even from weapons wielded by criminals he was facing off with. None of those times had ever made his blood run cold the way this did, though.

He lifted his head just enough to see that the window was, by some miracle, not boarded over, merely covered in thick brown paper. It was large, reaching from about knee height to well over Daniel's head, and the panes looked brittle and worn with time. The glass was thin enough that he was able to hear the voice on the other side clearly.

"This is your last chance, Dansen. I'm tired of your games. Spill it or you're done."

Sorry, Garrett, Daniel thought, knowing his partner was probably about to come around the corner. He closed his eyes for half a second, sending out a plea to anything that might be listening to please, please let this work.

Then he took a few steps back, pulled his arms up over his head, and took a running dash head-first into the window.

Ethan closed his eyes; he didn't want to see the bullet coming for him before it hit. He sent out a silent apology to his brother and to Danny, and hoped that at least one of them might remember him fondly.

He was braced for more pain, braced for the end, but he was not braced for the sound of shattering glass behind him, and he jumped, almost as startled as Steve, who let a shot fly wild from his gun. Thankfully the shot went wide, shattering noisily into the concrete floor far to Ethan's right.

"Police! Drop your weapon!" Ethan froze, the sound of that voice seeming like something out of a wild, last-minute daydream. He tried to turn to see behind him, straining until he felt like his shoulders would pop out of their joints. He saw Steve's weapon swing up again, pointing behind him.

"You're way outnumbered here, pig," snarled Steve, his eyes wide with panic despite his confident words. Just then, shots rang out somewhere else in the building.

"Am I?" Daniel asked calmly. Ethan scrabbled desperately at the ropes around his wrists; Steve was at the end of his patience, and Ethan knew all too well what he was capable of. If he hurt Danny…

Steve backpedaled, keeping his weapon trained steadily on Daniel. "You have no idea what you're getting into," he said, nearly slipping on a stray brick behind him. "You can't hope to take us on. Your own men were working for us!"

"Put down the weapon," Daniel repeated. His voice was closer this time, and Ethan both ached for him to be closer and wished he were anywhere but here. "Are you okay, Ethan?"

"I'm fine," Ethan said, the slur in his words betraying the truth. "Danny, he's-"

"SHUT. UP!" Steve yelled, his voice going high-pitched with rage. His gun hand trembled, and he had opened his mouth to speak again when Ethan heard the distinctive scraaaaaaape of the door opening. He experienced a surge of fear that it was backup for Steve before a new voice entered the fray.

"Police! Drop your weapon!" Steve's weapon jerked wildly between the two targets, his eyes wide in terror.

"This isn't how this works," snapped Steve, as his eyes darted wildly around the room. ""I'm supposed to win, I get the money, I get the man, I get it all!"

"Dammit, Steve, give it up!" Ethan yelled, his heart pounding as the gun swiveled back toward Ethan. There was a pause as Steve seemed to consider it, then his expression hardened.

Ethan felt the slack in the ropes he was struggling against just as Steve's arm went into motion, moving to point the gun up and over Ethan's left shoulder. Ethan still couldn't see Daniel, but between his voice and the footsteps knew where he was, and knew where that bullet was headed. As Steve's finger tightened on the trigger, Ethan threw himself up and to the left, arms flailing for momentum as his still-bound ankles dragged the chair with him.

"Ethan!"

His name in the mouth of the man he loved was the last sound he heard before a deafening bang, followed immediately by a blast of burning, searing pain, then the relief of blessed, pain-free darkness.

Ethan fell, and Daniel felt the other man's name rip out of his throat with painful intensity as he returned fire on the man who had been holding him hostage. Garrett opened fire at the same time, and the man's bullet-riddled body fell to the ground. Daniel scrambled forward, reaching for Ethan, who was still, so still, as police sirens wailed in the distance.

Daniel had one hand over the wound, a bleeding bullet hole in Ethan's shoulder, while the other hand frantically felt for a pulse.

"Please, please, please…" he murmured the word over and over again as the sirens grew closer, slowly changing from the familiar drawn-out tones into… beeping?

Daniel jerked awake, suddenly aware that he'd been dreaming, again. He rubbed his hands over his face and looked up at the nearby monitor out of habit; the doctor had assured him that Ethan was out of the woods, but he still didn't take the steady rise and fall of those pixelated green lines for granted. He'd never forget those horrifying seconds when he couldn't find a pulse, though he'd later realize it was because his hands were too slick with Ethan's blood and shaking to be of any use at all.

"Danny?"

Daniel was jerked back into the present by the sound of his name. Ethan was blinking slowly into consciousness, his eyes clouded over by pain medication and confusion.

"Hey," Daniel greeted him, unable to help the wide smile that spread across his face at seeing Ethan's eyes open. Ethan tried to turn his head to look at Daniel more fully, but the movement sent a shock of pain across his face. "Try to stay still," Daniel said gently. "You've had a hell of a day."

Technically, it was already the next day, as it was sometime in the wee hours of the morning, but Daniel was past the point of caring.

"What-" Ethan tried to croak out the word, then stopped and swallowed hard. Daniel took it as a hint, grabbing a nearby cup of water and offering it carefully to the other man, who drank gratefully. "What happened?" he said when he was done drinking.

"You were an idiot," Daniel replied easily, though his tone was fond. Even now, even bandaged all over and high on pain medication after being kidnapped and tortured, Ethan rolled his eyes, and Daniel loved him all the more for it.

"Sure, but that doesn't usually-- ooooh," he said, as his memories slowly returned to him, pushing their way past the fog of medication, no doubt. "Danny, did I get shot?" Daniel hesitated, trying to think of a more gentle way to word it, then nodded.

"Yeah, you did." He reached out, taking Ethan's hand in his own. "Jesus, Ethan, what were you thinking?"

"He was going to shoot you," Ethan said with all the honesty of the drugged. He looked baffled by the question. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Let me take the shot," Daniel said, chuckling through the tears in his eyes. "That's my job." Ethan snorted.

"Cops," he said, as if that explained everything. He shifted, a look of discomfort passing over his face. "What did the-" He broke off as the door swung open, revealing a man who looked an awful lot like Ethan, just a little younger and a lot more worried.

"Ethan?" he said, his eyes wide.

"Alex." Ethan breathed the name, his face gone white. "No, you can't be here, you-"

"Ethan," Daniel said sharply, cutting the other man's panic short. "It's done, sweetheart," he said gently. "Steve, Michael, all the others -- they're all being put away. They can't threaten you, or your brother, anymore." Ethan looked between them as Alex spoke up in confusion.

"Daniel, is that you?" Daniel squeezed Ethan's uninjured shoulder slightly before standing, turning to face Alex. The younger man looked frazzled and exhausted, like he'd traveled nonstop to get here and not slept a wink.

"Yeah, it's me," he said, offering Alex a weary smile. "I'll get out of the way, and let you two catch up." Alex nodded distractedly and rushed past Daniel, who paused briefly in the doorway to look back. Alex was bending over the bed, relief written all over his face to see his brother awake and talking.