The doctor's voice was reassuring and soft.
"Did I fall asleep?" Stupid question but it unnerved him that the doc was in front of him and there was no way Beckett was going to sit there is silence. The doc didn't answer, he just launched into a round-up of information that had Beckett's head spinning. Details and names and codes. He focused hard on the words all wrapped up in Kayden's soft tone. He hadn't realized just how much Kayden's voice was reassuring him and keeping him calm.
"So there you go," he finished. "We need details of what you can remember from that letter and any idea of who you think might have this key in Texas."
"I only read it briefly. It was a simple thing." Frustration leached into him, "God. I wish I could remember. Something about the other key is all I can think of."
"And the Texas bit?" Kayden wanted a memory that Beckett couldn't recall and it frustrated him.
"That the key is in Texas. Honestly, I was reading it and then he came in. Alastair."
"Do you know anyone in Texas?"
"No. That's just it. I've never even been to Texas and I don't even remember my mom, let alone know if she had friends in the South."
"Okay it's fine," Kayden was holding his hands and it felt nice. A link to a world he couldn't see very well. His voice was so soft and it reminded Beckett of when he lay in the bed and had only Kayden's voice to calm him. "The list of numbers in the box you were given by the lawyer is an account number and a reference, probably for that safety deposit box. That much Manny has narrowed down. He'll get that to us and all we need to do is go to the bank with the two keys and open it to see what your mom has hidden that she wanted only you to see."
"But we don't have the other key." Irritation bubbled under his skin. The memories were there but were frustratingly just out of his reach. Something in the letter had made him stop and think, but all of that was lost in a haze of pain. He must have made a sound of frustration because suddenly Kayden was squeezing his hands and calming him down. Affection for the man he couldn't see, the young man who was a doctor, filled him. A lot of it had to do with the flow of Kayden's voice, like whisky and honey it was smooth and warming.
"We'll find it," he reassured. "Right now though, I need to check your vitals and see how you're doing."
"I wish I could see you." Did I actually say that out loud? Quickly, he changed the direction of what he was saying. "And it's not as if my other senses are like super-sized or anything. I can't smell or hear anything better."
"You mean because you are for all intents and purposes blind? The sensory input information we get from what is around us is about eight-five percent visually processed. Even with blind people, the other senses don't get better, it's just that more attention is given to them. But if that was a clumsy attempt to find out what I look like then I am taller than you by a bit, green eyes, blond hair and apparently I look good in scrubs." The last he added with a laugh.
"Bet the guys love you," Beckett laughed in return and then realized what he had said. Instantly heat climbed inside him. "Sorry, you were talking to me—the first day I was here and you said you were gay—look, I was only half awake. Sorry."
"I always talk to my semi-conscious patients, get all that pesky sexual preference shit out of the way at the start before they get well enough to beat on me."
"Oh." Beckett snagged that comment and held it tightly. He hadn't been wrong then. He had heard properly. The doctor with the sexy voice and the firm touch was definitely gay. "Elisabeth wasn't my girlfriend," Beckett blurted out.
"Okay." Kayden pushed himself up against the sofa to stand from the floor. Beckett knew that by the pressure and movement on the sofa. His voice held that tone people used when they were puzzled why Beckett had said something so odd. Suddenly it was vitally important that Kayden follow exactly what he was trying to say.
"She kept my secret though. About why I tracked down Gregory Bullen. I told her about the stuff my mom left for me with her lawyer. I trusted Elisabeth." Beckett didn't want Kayden to go. Suddenly the reality of the FBI wanting him and the puzzle of the keys and the death of someone he had shared secrets with seemed too much for him to hold on his own. He leaned forward from the sofa and blindly reached out to stop Kayden from leaving. His fingers found material and he gripped tightly, twisting them and holding Kayden. "Did she die because of me?"
Kayden prized his fingers away from the material and very patiently answered. "No Beck, she died because the Bullens have secrets and she knew enough about them to cause trouble. She was interning with the senator and clearly found something or maybe heard something that she shouldn't have. I'm not lying when I say if the Bullens had known you had anything to do with Elisabeth you'd probably be dead too."
Beckett shivered at the thought. "But I told her what my mom had written. That there was something hidden in this old room. Elisabeth told me things. Like the code for the password generator on Greg's computer. How did they find out about her and not me?"
"I don't know." Kayden's tone of voice seemed final. It sounded an awful lot like Kayden wasn't ready to speculate. "Right now I'm thinking bed may be a good idea so I can check how you're healing and you can get some sleep." Sleep had never sounded so good. Add to that the chance of his bodyguard's hands all over him? Didn't matter if it was for medical reasons or not; Beckett was more than interested in that.
"What time is it?"
"Just before nine."
"In the morning?"
"Evening."
"I'm not tired." Beckett belied this with a wide yawn then shrugged. "Maybe I am."
Kayden helped him to wherever he was sleeping and Beckett didn't even bother getting undressed. He just knew that bed was a good place and he felt safe. Remembering he hadn't actually managed to tell Kayden that he too was gay he kicked himself for it. All that building up to the big announcement and he had lost it at the last moment. Oh, but Kayden smelled so good. It was only when Kayden thanked him softly with a chuckle that Beckett realized he may well have said that out loud.
The dream was full on and in it there were so many threads that it was impossible to pull one out and identify it properly. The Bullen house was there, in all its brooding glory, carved into the mountain and old to look at. Gregory was hugging him, holding him, keeping him from moving away. Then there was a woman. Who appeared how he thought his mom may have looked, like an older version of himself, dark hair with brown eyes maybe. The only photo he had ever seen of her was one old faded shot that the lawyer had passed to him, the same photo that was back at the Bullen mansion in his wallet.
She was talking to him in the dream. No. That wasn't quite right. She was actually talking at him, telling him what he had read in the letter. Over and over he was thinking Texas fits here. Somewhere in this mess of dreams there was a link to something he wasn't getting. The letter he had received from her along with the teddy bear that day in the lawyer's office had spoken of how the man who was handing it to him was the man she had loved. Austin was the same person who had somehow managed to get Beckett away and place him with a new family. Images forced their way to the front of his mind and he wished they were true. His mom smiling down at him and telling him it was going to be okay. And Austin—
"Kayden!" He woke up calling Kayden's name and he called it again. In seconds Kayden was there, the door banging back and slamming uselessly against the wall.
"What's wrong?" Kayden sounded alert and Beckett doubted the other man had been asleep at all.
"I have it." He got up and turned to rest his feet on the floor. "We need to go—"
"What the fuck Beck, I thought you were dying or shit."
"No. I had this dream—look—get dressed. Do you still have my jeans? Or I can borrow some of yours? We just need to get out of here—"
"We're not going anywhere."
"Austin, my mom's lawyer, the man who placed me with the Jamieson family and kept my mom's secrets after her death. The key isn't in Texas, the key is with Austin. See? Austin. Texas." Beckett blinked and faced the shadow in the doorway. He imagined he could make out blond hair but that was probably just his sleep-induced imagination.
"Then why didn't Austin give you the key when you saw him?"
Damn it. That was a good question. Dragging a hand through his short hair he closed his eyes for a second. Blind or not closing his eyes helped him think. Inspiration hit him. "Maybe he didn't know what it meant?"
"A key is a key, Beck." Another very good statement but still, the coincidence between the mention of Texas and the man's name being Austin was too perfect to ignore.
"It may be in her effects that he kept, or inside something. Come on. Surely it's worth a try?"
"Where does this Austin guy live?"
"I don't know, I mean, I do know, I'll remember. It's about six miles outside of Albany—"
"No. I'm not taking you out of here. Full stop. Let alone back to the Albany area. We'll talk about it in the morning. Get someone from Sanctuary to pay him a visit."
"No, he may only talk to me."
"You're tired—"
"Jeez, I'm not tired now. Don't you get it, he may have the freaking key." Beckett stood and could clearly make out the shape of the bedside table at the side of the bed. He opened the top drawer and stuck his hand in, pulling it back when something sharp dug into him.
"You're in a recovery room and you've got your hand in amongst scissors in a medical supplies drawer," Kayden drawled. "Go back to bed."
"Where are my clothes?" Beckett turned to face Kayden's shadowy shape. "My jeans, my shirt. Or do you have something I can borrow? I'll call a taxi."
"Beck. For God's sake, it's three in the morning."
"Cab's run twenty-four hours." A strong hand held him tight and he was up close and personal to the definitely blond and square jawed Kayden. Details were blurry but Beckett could make out the general shapes and colors of things around him.
"Not to places this remote they don't. Go back to bed and we'll talk in a few hours." Beckett shook off the hold and stumbled to stand upright with the sudden loss of support. He felt for the table next to the stand.
"Get me a phone." He remembered his own phone had flown from his hand and shattered into pieces.
"We'll talk in the morning, kid."
"You can't stop me leaving."
Kayden moved fast. Left the room and shut the door behind him slipping what sounded like some kind of outside lock. What the hell? Kayden had locked him in his room?
"Let me out!" Beckett beat on the door with his good hand. "Let me out, you freaking bastard."
"We'll talk in the morning," Kayden's voice was so damned calm.
"Fuck you, Kayden."
"Likewise, Beckett."
Beckett slumped miserably to the floor with his back to the door. What the hell? Didn't Kayden get how important this could be? All it would take was a quick trip from wherever the hell 'here' was to Albany. With the key and an idea of which bank the box was in they may find enough inside it to really do some harm to Bullen operations. Severely pissed, he knocked his head back against the door, wincing as neck muscles protested the movement. There was no way he was sleeping now, but hell if he was going to sit on the floor for what remained of the night. Wearily he stood and crossed to the bed which had changed from being a dark shape to an actual white rectangle. Still bitterly angry at the way Kayden had handled the situation—locking him in his room like he was a freaking kid no less—he climbed onto the bed and pulled the sheet up and around his neck.
Just wait 'til the morning. Asshole.