Specter's Gamble - 30. Chapter 30

After that day, Sam started coming over every day. After a while, Desmond realized to his greatest amusement, that he actually enjoyed the kid’s company. He didn’t even bother with a snide remark after Rayhe told him one day that Desmond was definitely a hell of lot more mellow now than he was a month ago. He just snorted something without an actual reply, and Rayhe left it at that.

Then, a couple of weeks or so ago, after yet another poker game (Sam tried to persuade the assassin to start playing with actual money, which Desmond flatly refused), they were watching TV, and after a while, Desmond realized that the kid was really quiet. He didn’t make any remarks about the show they were watching, and that was weird – the kid would always say something about the crap TV companies came up with, and his remarks would always be quite funny. Right when Desmond was about to ask if he was feeling all right, he felt the kid's head drop onto his shoulder.

Desmond looked at him carefully and realized that Sam had simply fallen asleep. He thoughtfully looked at the kid for several minutes, studying his face that wasn’t restless or tense; instead, it was almost serene. Then he shifted his gaze to the television and turned down the volume. When Rayhe came in around ten in the evening, he just silently raised his eyebrow after glancing at the kid who was snoozing peacefully on Desmond’s shoulder. The assassin shrugged with his free shoulder and carefully relocated the kid’s head onto the pillow. He managed to do it without waking Sam up.

“That’s some serious bonding right there,” Rayhe said seriously when they got into the bedroom. “Didn’t know you had it in you...”

“Right,” Desmond snorted. “The kid is attached to you a hell of a lot more than he is attached to me.”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel shrugged. “He never fell asleep on my shoulder before. It’s a good thing though,” he added. “I was worrying about him... He flinched every time anyone got too close for comfort... It’s definitely a good thing,” he nodded.

“Yeah, well...” Desmond yawned. “We are leaving... Hopefully soon... He’ll have to find someone else to bond with after we are gone...”

“Yeah...” Rayhe muttered.

...Half an hour or so later, Rayhe pressed his palm against Desmond’s mouth when assassin’s moans started getting too loud.

“Control yourself, will you?” he muttered with a half-smile. “Do you really want him to wake up because of your screaming?”

“I am a moaner, not a screamer,” Desmond shook Rayhe’s palm off his face.

“You are loud, that’s what you are...” Rayhe muttered and attacked Desmond’s neck suddenly.

“Son of a...” Desmond groaned and shoved his fist into his mouth.

...He managed to muffle himself that night, but as a result, his knuckles hurt after he bit on his fist too hard, and Rayhe ended up having a decent size bite mark on his shoulder, after Desmond desperately sank his teeth into the other man’s flesh right before the powerful wave covered him head to toe.

****

...“Take me with you,” Sam said suddenly, and Desmond slightly lowered his cards. “Take me with you,” the kid repeated seriously. “I can’t stand the thought of you two leaving... There is nothing for me here... Take me with you!”

“Kid...” Desmond slowly shook his head.

“I’ll do whatever I need to do,” now the kid looked desperate. “I’ll clean, I’ll cook... I suck at cooking, but I’ll learn, I swear!”

Desmond laughed in spite of himself.

“Just please... Take me with you...!”

“Let’s talk about this later,” Desmond said finally. “You need to go now.”

“Oh...” Sam said in a small voice, and carefully laid his cards down on the table. “Okay...”

“This is what I need you to do,” Desmond shuffled all the cards. “You are going to drive away, park your car around the corner...” he glanced at the kid who seemed to be bewildered right now. “Make sure whoever is in that car doesn’t see you do that. Then walk back here, come in through the back door... Once again, stay out of sight... You can do that, right?”

“Right,” Sam nodded stiffly.

“Good,” Desmond left the cards alone. “Let’s go.”

****

...“Go away already,” Desmond grinned and ran his fingers through the kid’s hair one last time before going back to the apartment. He was perfectly aware of the fact that the window in that car rolled down ever so slightly. He still couldn’t see the person inside, however.

He walked inside the apartment and locked the door. Five minutes later, the back door creaked open, and Sam carefully walked inside. Desmond nodded at him with approval. Finally, he saw the guy climb out of the car, and let out a quiet curse -- it was the same buffoon that almost broke Desmond’s neck back in that house three months ago.

“I know him...” Sam muttered in astonishment. “Oh, God... I know him...!”

“I am sure it’s a great story, and you’ll tell me all about it later,” Desmond said quickly. “Okay, here is your choice... It seems like he is going to get inside the old-fashioned way... He probably figures that if you wanna kill someone, you don’t ring the doorbell first, so I won’t see it coming... So, here is your choice...” he took a deep breath, eyeing the buffoon who was standing next to the car, glancing around and making sure there was nobody there.

“You can either open the door,” Desmond continued. “Which is risky because most likely he is going to try and knock me out... Or you could sneak up behind him and pump him with this...” he demonstrated a syringe, and Sam’s eyes immediately went wide.

“I’ll get the door,” he said quickly.

Desmond nodded.

“Be ready to duck,” he said seriously and went outside through the back door.

“Desmond...” the kid called after him when he was almost outside. “Don’t kill him...” Sam finished in a smaller voice.

The assassin didn’t say anything to that and disappeared behind the door. Sam took a deep breath and waited for several very long minutes. Finally, the doorbell rang, and Sam called out in a somewhat muffled voice:

“Yeah, yeah...” he feverishly hoped that the man behind the door wouldn’t be able to tell it wasn’t Desmond’s voice. “What is it now? What did you forget this time...?”

He rattled the door chain for several seconds, and finally, he took another deep breath and opened the door. “Be ready to duck...” he thought. “Be ready to duck... Be ready to...”

There was no chance in hell he’d be able to duck in time. The only reason the man’s fist didn’t collide with Sam’s face was the fact that apparently, he was aiming for Desmond’s forehead, and since Sam was a few inches shorter, the man’s fist hit nothing but air. Sam could feel the fist almost brushing his hair when the bigger man regained his shaken balance and stared at the kid with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Samuel?” he said incredulously, and Sam couldn’t stop his eyes from darting behind his shoulder when he saw Desmond.

The man tried turning around the second he noticed Sam’s gaze, but he was too late. Desmond’s hand flew towards his big neck, and Sam saw the glistening needle of the syringe. A second later, that needle sank into the man’s neck. The man slightly jerked, and suddenly, went down on the floor, as if someone turned the ‘Off’ switch in his head.