Title: What doesn't kill you...

Pairing: Chandler/Kent

Author: Claddagh

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Written for the kink meme prompt of 'Chandler/Kent, OC/Kent, abusive relationship, wherein one other + Chandler helps Kent.'

Disclaimer: Not mine

Authors Note - By the way, I do not dislike accountants, (my brother-in law happens to be one) but it was the first job that came into my head.

And can I just say - over 8,000 words…phew…I'm knackered after writing this! Please do enjoy, and I hope that everyone isn't OOC.

"Kent, Lad! Print those CCTV photo's for me, would you? The boss wants them." Miles called out across the office, his voice carrying easily over the hustle and chatter of the incident room mid way through a case. It was half past five, and technically, shift had finished half an hour ago, but the activity hadn't cooled even slightly, as the team were so close to the conclusion of a case, and none of them wanted to stop.

The young man completed this task swiftly, sending the photo's to the boss' printer in the other room and glancing up at Chandler, catching his eye and nodding to him to indicated that the photo's were printing.

That was when Kent's phone began to vibrate as a call came in, he sighed and contemplated letting it ring, as technically they weren't meant to use their phones while they were working, and as it was on vibrate, he could let it ring and no one would be any wiser. But when he glanced at the screen and saw the name flashing his heart stopped for a split second and his stomach churned unpleasantly.

Already regretting his decision he picked up the phone and brought it to his ear, glancing around the room to see if anyone has noticed.

"Hello? No, I'm at work… Of course I'm not lying… You know I'm at work, you can hear everyone in the office…no, we're working late…you don't need to do that, I'll be back soon…No, Alex - Fine. Do whatever…"

Kent clenched his jaw as he was hung up on, the dial tone now the only sound coming from the device. He was angry, Alex didn't believe him when he told him he was at work, and not…somewhere else. Kent wasn't sure where Alex kept thinking he was, but he never believed him when he said they were working late. He'd also insisted on coming to the office, just to see Kent there and make sure he was telling the truth. Now he would be escorted back to his own flat, as if he was an untrustworthy child.

He slammed his fist down on the table, still holding the phone, and let his head drop into the palm of the other hand, sighing.

It was only 20 minutes later that the team finished all of the paperwork and were ready to call it a day. They were all just pulling on their coats when a tall blonde man walked into the incident room. Kent was the only one of the group to recognise him, and with a forced smile he walked towards Alex and took his hand.

The other man didn't smile back and just looked at Kent for a moment.

"You *are* here then." He stated, his voice blank.

Kent blinked and smiled more widely, before speaking, his voice as quiet, soft and calming as he could make it.

"Of course, I told you that."

"Aren't you going to introduce us Kent?" Miles came up to the pair, flanked by Mansell Riley and Chandler (who had just came out of his office).

"Oh, of course. This is Alex Harvey, my b-boyfriend. Alex this is DS Ray Miles, DC Finley Mansell, DC Megan Riley and…" Kent paused. "DI Joseph Chandler." Alex shook hands with each of the team in turn as they were introduced. His obviously put on, fake smile plastered on the whole time. Kent could tell.

He shook hands with Chandler last, and Kent held his breath for the few seconds that the two men were staring at each others faces, sizing the other up and making their first impressions, their hands clasped together.

"So what do you do Alex?" Riley asked.

"I'm an Accountant. It's not as exciting as Emerson's job, but it pay's the bills."

"Oh believe me it wasn't exciting today. All paperwork." Kent admitted.

Alex still seemed to be staring at Chandler.

After a few seconds of silence. "So I presume you're the Joseph Chandler who was in the papers after the Ripper and Kray cases." Joe's only reaction to this was a slow blink of his eyes and a glance at Kent, who gave his most humble, apologetic look, hoping, praying that Alex wouldn't continue. "Almost had both of them didn't you, but neither were brought to justice. Emerson kept on saying it was outside factors that allowed them to walk free." Alex chuckled "I happen to be of a different opinion." He added pointedly, his eyes not leaving Chandler.

Mansell, gave a slight intake of breath at that, watching the two men avidly. The building shock and anger on Kent's face was so obvious that even Miles raised his eyebrow in surprise, Alex however seemed oblivious, his attention still focused on the DI.

Chandler pressed his lips together for a second. "Well, Mr Harris, unlike your job, we work with people, not money. They are not as predictable as inanimate objects."

Alex smirked at that, but before he could reply with another career devastating remark, Kent stepped forward and spoke up.

"OK! I think it's time we went home." He began to gently prod Alex towards the door and thankfully, he allowed it. He turned and added as an afterthought. "I guess I'll see you all tomorrow." Before leaving he gave the team another apologetic look and hoped to god he would still have a job in the morning.

"What a bastard." Miles stated , doing up his coat. "Why's the lad even with him?"

"You complete…IDIOT!" Kent shouted as he violently pushed the door to his flat open and stormed in, yanking off his coat and flinging it over the back of the sofa. Alex stalked in behind the angry young man quite calmly, closing the door, and watching Kent's progress through the small living room into the kitchen. He followed.

"You could have cost me my bloody job! You still might have!" The young man huffed, switching on the kettle and pulling a mug out of the cupboard. "I can't believe you spoke to Joe like that…You know how much this job means to me. Just because you can't stand your job doesn't mean you have to sabotage mine!"

Kent opened the cutlery draw and reached inside for a teaspoon. Just as he was about to withdraw his hand Alex came up behind him and slammed the draw shut, trapping his fingers. He cried out in pain as the wood cut into his flesh and looked up at Alex. Whose expression hadn't changed much, his jaw was slightly tighter and his eyes were more narrowed, but other than that his face was blank.

Kent glanced between the other man and his hand, his breath coming out in short sharp gasps.

"Don't. Ever. Talk to me. Like that. Again." With each pause of the sentence Alex pushed the draw closed even farther, a small grunt or gasp of pain escaping Emerson's lips with each push. On the last word, and the hardest shove yet, Kent could have sworn he heard a crack, the bones in his hand either scraping against each other or snapping entirely.

He could feel the world spinning, pounding in his head and ringing in his ears. He blinked a few tears away and licked his dry mouth, forcing out whatever words he could.

"P-please, I didn't mean…I just-"

"What? You just what?" the other man demanded, staring down at Kent with a discontenting calmness, considering the situation.

Emerson floundered for a moment, his mouth opening and closing a few times.

"Nothing, I..." he whimpered. "nothing…"

"'Nothing' is right Emerson." Alex then stood up straight and opened the draw, releasing Kent's hand.

He hissed in pain and immediately clutched his hand to his chest, unable to make eye contact with the taller man. Biting his lip to hold back the tears he shifted from one foot to the other, his hand throbbing. He heard Alex chuckle, and could imagine the look on his face, one of disgust and loathing. He'd seen it often enough.

"I bet you learned to talk back like that from DI Chandler. He had a mouth on him today as well." Kent glared at the floor at the insult of his boss, and tried to stop himself from arguing back; the pain in his hand was a good incentive not to. "Before I walked in I saw the way you were looking at him, and the way you talk about him at home. I think you need to get over this crush of yours Emerson. He doesn't want you, only I do, And even then, just *barely*."

Kent clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, trying to let the words wash over the top of his head and not register in his brain, but it was hard, because he himself already believed some of them. He saw in the corner of his eye Alex's hand come up to stroke his cheek and he automatically flinched away. Alex withdrew his hand and his smirk grew.

"But I don't want you tonight, who would?" He walked into the living room and grabbed his coat. "But I expect twice the effort next time." With those sickening parting words he walked out of Emerson's small flat, slamming the door behind him, leaving Kent standing in the kitchen, trembling, frightened in his kitchen clutching his hand.

This wasn't a new occurrence, in the 4 months that Emerson had been with Alex, this type of thing had happened a few times. It started out lovely, as any relationship did, then Alex showed his true colours. At the start it was just finger marks on his upper arm or wrist when he'd been grabbed too tightly in anger, then it evolved to bruised ribs and arms being bent backwards further than was natural. Though, Kent noted that Alex always hurt and marked him in places that could easily be hidden. He wasn't stupid, it was the trademark of the domestic abuse perpetrator, that and the psychological abuse, Kent knew that was what it was, but that didn't make it any easier to not believe it or actively stop it.

Fear was more paralysing and debilitating than most realised. It wasn't as easy as it sounded to up and leave someone who is abusive. Half of it was shame, a Detective constable, who investigated the Ripper, The Kray's, who deals with domestics every day, hasn't got the balls to leave a guy who hurts him.

Kent stood there in shock for a few minutes, before his strength left him and he had to lean against the kitchen counter, his breath uneven and his eyes clenched shut, trying to stop the moisture in his eyes from escaping. He tried to inhale through his nose and exhale through his mouth to calm his irregular breathing and his thumping heart. He then uncovered his hand and examined the hurt.

The damage was mainly in between the second joint of his fingers and his knuckles, a red angry line of broken skin where the sharp wooden draw edges had cut in. It was slowly oozing blood and already there were darkening bruises blossoming around the injury, extending way past his knuckles onto the back of his palm. Kent took a deep breath and attempted to move or flex his fingers, the dull ache in his hand flared to a sharp sting, and he found it impossible to move them even the slightest.

Likely something is broken then, the young man mused. Pushing aside his emotions and feelings, and quickly moving to the freezer, pulling out a bag of frozen peas with his good hand. It took him a minute using only one hand, but eventually he had the peas wrapped in a tea towel and pressed to his other hand. Cooling the already swelling flesh and staunching the bleeding at the same time.

Almost in a daze Kent made his way to his bedroom, tea forgotten. He placed the make-shift ice pack on his bedside cabinet and slowly, painfully undressed, dropping his clothes onto the floor, uncaring of the mess.

Crawling into bed and hugging his pillow tightly Kent allowed the tears to escape. He cried because of the pain in his hand. He cried because of the horrid words Alex had shot at him. He cried because of his situation, trapped like an animal, too scared to move from his cowering position in the corner.

'He doesn't want you…"

Those words were hurting him more than his hand, because he knew it was true. Kent developed his 'feelings' for DI Chandler very quickly after the older man had arrived. Initially he believed it to be hero worship, but when it failed to settle once he'd seen how human and incapable Joe could be at times, he realised that it might be something more. He'd come to accept that Joe didn't feel the same way about him, but hearing it out loud in such a blunt, abrupt way… It hurt.

Kent clutched his hand to his chest, the tears still falling from his eyes, landing on his pillow, dampening the material.

The next morning, the DC stood in the shower, enjoying the hot water flowing over his skin, trying not to look at his hand, which overnight, despite the makeshift icepack, had swollen, the skin becoming taught and shiny. The bruising had come to full fruition, dark blue and purple covering his knuckles and the back of his hand. The cut itself wasn't particularly deep, but it was painful, and he still couldn't move his fingers more than a mere twitch. But he soldiered on, ignoring the 'good morning' text that flashed brightly on his phone from Alex, and got dressed for work, attempting to do his tie with only one hand. Quickly before leaving his flat he messily wrapped the hand in a bandage, just to cover the cut while he was at work.

As he walked into the office, Kent put on his bravest face and discreetly tucked his right hand into the pocket of his trousers. No one paid him any heed except for the usual nod or smile sent his way, for which he was thankful for. Sitting down at his desk he began to sort the files that had been allocated to him. Using his right hand proved to be difficult. Well, agony to be precise. Every movement sent sharp spikes of pain up his hand, wrist and fingers, but Kent tried his best to keep his facial expression neutral. No one in the office had appeared to have noticed anything unusual in his behaviour. It was impossible to write however, and he was forced to use his much weaker, left hand. Chandler wouldn't be happy, he liked the writing in the files to be legible and neat, not like a child had been let loose in the filing cabinet!

It wasn't until lunchtime that this flawless act was disturbed. Riley had been sent out for coffee and tea from the shop down the road and had asked the young DC to accompany her and to help carry. Without thinking he'd accepted.

As they were leaving the shop Riley was trying to put her purse back into her bag one handed as she held the coffee holders in the other hand.

"Oh, Emerson. Could you just take these quickly for me please?" She asked, extending the hand holding the cardboard cup holder.

He nodded, and without thinking, tried to take the four coffees using his injured hand (as the other one was already full with the remaining coffee.)

The resulting pain from the weight was excruciating, a sharp stabbing agony shooting through his fingers and wrist. He gasped in shock at the sudden pain, jerking his hand away and sending the coffee holder flying. He moaned through gritted teeth as the pain slowly subsided to a dull ache, barely registering the crash as all six drinks hit the floor and spilled everywhere, spots of dark coffee littering the lower legs of his suit trousers. For a few seconds he daren't look up at Riley, slightly fearful of what her reaction would be and when he did, the look on her face said it all; confusion, shock, worry.

"Emerson? Wha-? What's wrong with your hand?" She frowned, her gaze darting between his face and the hand that he had withdrawn into the sleeve of his suit jacket.

His mind raced as he tried to think up an appropriate and realistic story to tell her. Even though he knew what eventually did come out of his mouth was so typical and silly, it was the first thing he could think of.

"I fell last night when I got home and landed on my hand. It's nothing." He was unable to hold her gaze as he spoke and he thought she could tell he was lying, but she didn't call him on it.

After apologising to the shop owner repeatedly, he paid for the new coffee and they made their way back to the station in silence.

Three hours later Kent could still feel the other DC's eyes on him, watching his every move from her desk near the door. Since the incident in the coffee shop she hadn't let him out of her bloody sight, and it wasn't just the perceptive eye of a detective, or that of a woman, it was that of a mother.

No one can hide anything from a motherly detective. Least of all Kent.

Just as everyone else was going home, the lights being shut off one by one, and while Kent was busy carrying the bin around the office, tidying up the desks (with difficulty because of his hand), was when Riley cornered him.

"Emerson Kent, I want you to tell me right now, the truth about what happened to that hand of yours." She looked up at him with a very serious, almost grave expression.

"I told you, I fell-"

"And I don't want any of that bullshit!"

Kent was beginning to panic now, she obviously didn't believe him.

"What makes you think it's bullshit?" He breathed, glancing into the bosses office, where he still sat, working away, despite it being clocking off time.

Meg sighed and placed her hands on her hips, a stern look in her eyes.

"Emerson, If you had really fallen, you wouldn't have tried to hide your hand, like you obviously have been doing today. You've bled through the bandage as well," Kent glanced down to see there was indeed a stripe of red across the white material. "…you couldn't have cut the back of your hand deep enough that it would bleed like that by falling."

"So maybe I cut it…" the young DC muttered, his eyes not meeting the woman's.

She shook her head and scoffed. "No you didn't, not yourself anyway."

Kent's head shot up. "What?"

"You left here, angry at Alex, after what he said. You came back in here this morning with an obviously fake smile and a broken hand. Your phone has been going off all day telling you have a text message. Each time you have read it, then chucked your phone down without replying, you're angry with the person texting you then. That person could only be Alex, and if you had truly fallen and hurt your hand, he would be concerned and any argument would have been forgotten."

Kent just stared at Riley, impressed at her perceptiveness, but at the same time, he knew he couldn't think up a convincing lie to cover up everything she had noticed.

"So tell me Emerson, what happened to your hand?"

Kent stayed silent for a few seconds, knowing that he was caught. He couldn't possibly think of anything that Riley would buy. She was a smart woman, who knew her team well. The young man took a deep breath, before cupping his injured hand in the other and began speaking.

"He didn't mean to."

Riley's stance stiffened.

"Didn't mean to what?"

"He…trapped my hand in a draw. He didn't mean to. He was angry." Kent whispered, as if he was too scared to raise his voice.

"You know who you sound like Emerson? Every bloody domestic abuse victim I've ever interviewed!" Riley hissed, clearly angry. "Usually the next time I see them it's turned into a murder case." Kent clenched his jaw. "You don't accidentally trap someone's hand in a draw, and being angry is NO excuse."

"I know. But when it's you…it's different."

"I don't doubt that, but it's still unacceptable. How long has It been happening?"

He hesitated. "About two months."

Riley's eyes widened almost comically. "Two months? Emerson you've got to get out. Please, we all care about you, you're better than that scumbag Alex. I knew there was something nasty in his eyes."

"It doesn't feel like I'm better than this sometimes. I'm so scared." He admitted, closing his eyes, trying to stop the humiliation from creeping up his spine.

Riley placed one hand on each of his shoulders, her motherly expression returning full force. "I know, but every one of us here will help you through this. You don't have to hide it. The first thing I think you should do is go to the hospital and have that hand of your checked out. Then we'll decide what to do."

He nodded.

Kent was accompanied to the hospital by Meg, to have his hand dealt with. An x-ray confirmed that he had a greenstick fracture on two of the metacarpals of his right hand. Not a serious injury, but a painful one which would restrict the use of his hand for the next few weeks.

Kent was immensely grateful that the nurse didn't ask for details on how the injury had come about, because he didn't know if he would have had the strength to lie.

Walking out of the hospital with a brand new white cast and the usual spiel of 'nothing too strenuous' in the next few weeks, Kent actually felt much better. His hand was sorted, he hadn't spoken to Alex in 24 hours and Riley was being very motherly towards him. It felt nice for someone to look after him so.

Despite this, he couldn't help but feeling nervous for what would happen when he did see Alex. He didn't want to be in this relationship anymore, there was no love in it, but he was too scared to end it, too scared of what Alex would do.

He sounded so pathetic. He hated himself.

"So tell me, what led to him doing…that…to you." Meg nodded to his cast, sitting herself down on the sofa, one leg tucked underneath before handing Kent a mug of tea, while taking a sip from her own. He took it with a sigh, staring pensively into the dark liquid, his fingers tapping restlessly.

They were sitting in Riley's living room, her kids having been sent to and tucked into bed, while her husband was still at work, on a late shift. They could have gone to a pub, it wasn't really that late, but Kent felt better talking here, no one to listen in on their conversation.

"I shouted at him, for what he said to the boss." Kent wouldn't look up and his voice was very flat, showing almost no emotion. Riley had seen it hundreds of times before. Kent had seen it hundreds of times before, they did the same job after all!

"I presume he didn't just trap your hand for a few seconds, judging from the look I got of it when it was being dressed?"

Kent shook his head. "He kept shoving the draw repeatedly as he spoke." He shrugged.

"What was he saying?" Riley wasn't sure if she wanted to hear it or not, judging by the gentle flush that erupted across Emerson's cheeks.

After a few seconds the young DC took a sip of his tea, before his gaze flickered restlessly around the room, searching for something to focus on, to distract himself from the conversation. That's why police interview rooms were so plain, so as to minimise objects and things that the victim can be distracted by.

"You don't need to know that." He eventually breathed, bringing his sock covered feet up and crossing his legs on the sofa, making him look impossibly small in Riley's opinion.

"Yes I do Emerson, because what he's saying to you is something that obviously hurts and you believe, or else you wouldn't put up with it." Riley reasoned, resting her head on her hand.

"I know…that everything he say's to me is the usual stuff that every " He paused, as if unwilling to say the next word. "…victim gets told. But it's hard to not believe it."

"I know Emerson, but whatever he is telling you, it's not true. None of it." Riley insisted, her anger bubbling as despite her words the young DC looked unconvinced and just as miserable as he'd been before.

"I Think you should tell the boss."

Kent's head shot up to look at Riley like she was insane.

"Why! Why should anyone else have to know?"

"It's our job, we stop things like this." She insisted.

"I don't want anyone to know, least of all the boss. Please Meg." Kent pleaded, his eyes wide, almost fearful.

Riley seemed to be thinking for a few seconds, her jaw clenched and gaze fixed on Kent unwaveringly. His eyes eventually won her over. She nodded slowly.

"Okay. But I want you to get out of that relationship. If anything happens again, I'll have to tell the boss. Deal?"

"Ok."

A small chime interrupted their conversation, a dim light shining through Kent's trouser pocket as his phone lit up, alerting him to a text message. He glanced at Riley, already knowing who it was and dreading what it would say.

"Where are you love?

Come home.

A

x"

He showed the text to the blonde woman, who pursed her lips and looked back at him.

"Tell him it's over."

"Over text?"

Riley rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Emerson. Over text. He broke your hand, no one is going to judge you by doing it this way. Would you prefer face to face?"

Nodding, Kent slowly tapped out the text (using his left hand), hesitating slightly before pressing the send button.

"I'm sorry Alex, It's over. This relationship is not working.

I'm at a friends and I would like you to be gone when I get back.

Please don't make this any harder.

E x"

"What if he doesn't take it well, what if he won't leave?" Kent mumbled, placing his phone on the coffee table, before sitting back and taking another drink from his tea.

"Then we make him leave."

"It started off so well. He was so nice. It felt good having someone reciprocate your feelings for once." Kent stared down into his lap dejectedly. Riley sighed sympathetically. She knew what the DC was referring to. The others may be ignorant, as men usually are with matters of the heart, but she'd seen it, the minute she'd joined the team.

She saw the longing stares when he thought no one could see, she saw the little things he did to try and command the DI's attention, saw the look of pure jealousy and hatred he gave DI Norray whenever she'd gone near Chandler. It was obvious to her, she was a woman, she could see these things, where men just can't. Miles was busy trying to convince a reluctant Chandler to date all of these women, who didn't know him or understand him, while ten feet away, sat at his desk, arranging his belongings or carrying the wastepaper bin around, was Kent, who not only accepted Chandler, not just idealised him, but understood him.

Stupid man, not seeing Emerson right in front of him, Riley thought furiously. It wasn't as If Kent's feelings were unrequited, she was sure the boss felt similarly. Of course it was harder to tell with the DI, he was much more closed off than Kent, but when you have feelings like that for someone, it's hard to hide them.

Yet another noise from Kent's phone interrupted their silent contemplation, this time it was the ring tone, not a text message tone. Kent stared at the phone fearfully, knowing without looking that the name on the screen was 'Alex'.

After a minute the ringing stopped, the screen going dark and '1 missed call - Alex' taking up residence on the screen. Kent sighed, his head falling back onto the back of the sofa, relieved.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" Riley offered, putting her empty mug down on the table.

"No, I couldn't do that, you've already helped me enough, Meg. It's okay, I'll go home, we've got work tomorrow anyway."

"no, Emerson I insist, We've only got the sofa, but I'd rather know where you were and that you were ok." She replied, sternly, leaving no room for argument.

Kent nodded. He couldn't deny that he was secretly happy that Riley was taking care of him so, she reminded him of his own mother. "Ok, thank you Meg. I really appreciate it."

"No problem love."

The next day at the office (after telling a little white lie to the rest of the team, backed up by Riley, that he'd fallen in the car park on the way out last night to explain his cast) Kent was busy sorting through the large pile of files that had been dumped on his desk, when he felt someone's presence behind him.

Looking up he gave a smile when he saw that it was DI Chandler, staring at him with a gentle expression on his face.

"Sir?" He chirped in a way of greeting.

"Kent, I was wondering, do you have the CCTV photo's for Buxton street. Miles said that he gave them to you."

Kent immediately began searching through the masses of folders and files on his desk, he knew he did have them, but where was the problem. "I should have…just a second."

After a minute of searching Kent registered in his peripheral vision that Chandler had perched himself on the corner of the young man's desk and was currently adjusting his tie.

"So, How's you and Alex?" He was trying to sound casual, but the way he avoided Kent's surprised gaze the DC deduced differently.

"Umm…" Kent stopped searching for the photo's. "Actually…Alex and I are no longer together. It…uh…wasn't working out." He forced out, feeling slightly awkward, telling this to his boss.

He found the file, right on top of the rest, and handed it to Chandler.

"Oh, I hope you are ok." Chandler said awkwardly, as if he'd read it somewhere that you were suppose to say comforting things during a break-up.

"Thanks sir." Kent smiled, taking pity on the DI. Just as Chandler was about to walk away Kent called his name, licking his lips before continuing.

"I'm sorry about what Alex said when you met him, Sir, I couldn't believe what he came out with."

"It's fine Kent, you aren't responsible for what he said. I hope that didn't have anything to do with you splitting up."

He shrugged. "A little, but there were other reasons. It wasn't a good relationship." He gave a strained smile up at Chandler, but was interrupted by his phone vibrating it's way across the desk, lighting up.

He sighed and picked up the mobile, quickly hitting the cancel button on the call.

"Oh, go away Alex…" He muttered, practically throwing the mobile back down, not noticing Chandler's flinch at the sound of the impact.

"Do you need a lift home later?" Chandler asked, gesturing to his cast. Kent looked up at the DI, considering his offer.

It was nearly 7 in the evening when Chandler's car pulled up outside Kent's building. Both men sat for a second in silence before the DC turned to the other man and gave a small smile.

"Thank you sir, for the lift. Much better than the tube."

"You're welcome." Chandler replied, returning the smile.

Half way through climbing out of the car the young man froze, staring up at the building with a small frown on his face.

"What is it Kent?"

He turned back to Chandler.

"I didn't leave the light on."

The two men, Kent leading, with Chandler closely behind, walked along the corridor that led to the younger mans flat. When they came to his door, it was closed. Kent stared at it for a moment, before glancing back at Chandler.

Hesitating for a second, the DC reached out his non-cast covered hand and gripped the handle, hoping that it would be locked and he had just indeed left the light on by accident.

It wasn't locked, it swung open easily. Kent's breath hitched as he slowly walked into his flat, scared of what he might see.

Hardly anything was out of place. The young man wouldn't have been surprised if his flat had been ransacked by burglars, but it appeared that wasn't the case. The only difference Kent could see was two white candles had been lit on the coffee table, creating a small, traditionally romantic glow. Kent thought it was more creepy than anything.

"Ah, Emerson Love, you're home. I was getting worried." Alex came striding out of the kitchen, with a large fake grin adorning his face. He froze at the sight of Joe.

Kent shook his head. "Alex I told you, it's over. And I wanted you gone by the time I got back."

Silence.

"What's he doing here?" Alex hissed, his voice sharp and his posture already tightening, as if readying himself for a fight.

Kent let out a quiet chuckle to hide his rising apprehension. "He gave me a lift home. Because I can ride my Vespa, now, can I?" He lifted his right hand to show Alex the cast.

The Accountants eyes narrowed and the corner of his mouth twitched up in an almost unnoticeable sign of glee at the result of his attack on Kent two nights ago. His expression quickly returned to the budding anger when his attention shifted back to Chandler's silent presence behind Kent.

"Didn't take you long did it?"

Kent frowned.

"What?"

"Barely 24 hours and you're already bringing other blokes home."

"Alex." Kent began calmly, knowing that the situation could easily escalate. "We. Are. Over. And it's not like that."

"No of course not, you've been following him around for years like a brainless lapdog, now you've brought him home because you're just going to have fucking tea!"

Kent closed his eyes for a few seconds.

"I think you need to leave Alex."

In that instant the other man surged forward and gripped Kent's uninjured hand in a tight, almost iron grip, slowly bending the hand backwards.

"Don't you fucking tell me what to do. I broke your other hand, I can do the same to this one just as easily!" Alex snarled into the young man's ear, smiling sickly at the small grunt of pain the DC let out as he pressure on his wrist increased.

Chandler was standing behind Kent, shocked. Alex broke Emerson's hand? Was this a common occurrence? How had he not noticed? He quickly snapped himself out of his thoughts and came up close behind Kent.

"Let him go. Now." He ordered in his most authoritative voice he could muster.

Alex looked at Chandler, only gripping Kent's wrist harder.

"What are you going to do about it?" he smirked.

"Oh, for god's sake Alex!" Kent shouted, before, as forcefully as he could, yanked his hand sharply out of the other man's grip, the blood quickly rushing back into the extremities. "We're over! There's nothing between Joe and myself and even if there was, it's no concern of yours! This wasn't a relationship, it was abuse, now LEAVE!"

The silence in the room stretched. All three men surprised at the youngest ones outburst.

After a few seconds Alex gained his composure and slowly lent forward into Kent's personal space. The DC had to consciously force himself not to flinch back.

"Fine. But just remember Emerson. He still doesn't want you." Alex whispered, jerking his head at Joe. He straightened up. "and I agree, It wasn't a relationship. A relationship has sex in it. You couldn't even keep me satisfied in the bedroom."

With that disgusting remark Alex's smirk widened and he brushed past Kent, heading for the door. A deep flush of embarrassment crept up Kent's neck and face and he closed his eyes so he didn't have to turn and look at Chandler's expression.

What he didn't expect to hear was a low thud, a deep grunt of pain, then a thump as something heavy hit the floor.

Kent turned, expecting the worse, and found Alex sprawled out on the floor, clearly unconscious, his nose steadily trickling blood, Chandler standing above him, looking down, shaking and flexing the fingers of his right hand.

For a few seconds Kent couldn't speak, he just stuttered out a few vowel sounds.

"W-what did you do?"

Chandler looked at Kent, anger clouding his eyes.

"I wasn't going to let him get away with speaking to you like that." He breathed, his hand still flexing.

Kent sighed and rushed forward, grabbing the DI's hand, and looking at the hurt. It was swelling slightly already.

He chuckled, before looking up into the confused face of his DI. "We match Sir." He joked, shrugging and holding up his own injured hand. Chandler gave a strained smile back.

"What do we do about him?" Kent asked, looking down at Alex.

"We can call one of the PC's to come and pick him up, I acted in self defence." Chandler pulled out his phone.

Kent nodded. "He deserves everything he gets."

After Alex had been taken away, barely conscious, Kent had slumped onto his sofa and rested his head in his hand, while Chandler sat down slightly more elegantly next to him.

After a minute, Kent lifted his head to look at the DI.

"I'll just get you some ice for that hand." He rose from his seat. "Do you want something to drink? Tea?"

"Yes, but, I'll come and help, Emerson. Thank you." Chandler smiled, standing and moving to the kitchen, following the smaller man.

As the DI made two cups of tea, in silence, deftly swiping a few grains of spilled sugar off of the side, as Kent procured an ice cold bag of peas from the freezer and wrapped it in a thin tea towel. He handed the bundle to Chandler, giving a slightly sheepish look, who smiled in thanks and placed the bag on the back of his right hand, the coldness dampening down the burning heat radiating off of his flesh.

Once they both had their tea and were seated back in the living room, at either end of the sofa, the silence stretched, not necessarily uncomfortable, but not easy either. Chandler was the one to break it.

"So how long has this been-?"

"About two months." Kent answered before the DI had even finished the question, already knowing everything that Chandler was going to say.

The blonde man shook his head and sighed. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Well, it's not really the kind of thing you bring into the workplace sir. Is it?"

"Emerson, you forget what our workplace is. We could have dealt with it."

"I didn't want to tell anyone. It's not…something that happens to a Detective. Or it shouldn't anyway."

"Emerson it doesn't matter who you are, you just met the wrong person."

"Yeah, I guess."

A few more seconds of silence.

"What did he mean earlier?" The DI asked carefully, almost reluctantly.

"When?"

"When he said 'he doesn't want you'"

Kent looked down, up, away, anywhere instead of at Chandler.

"It was one of his favourite things to say. The usual domestic abuse line of 'nobody else wants you'. It sounds stupid when said now."

"But why me specifically?"

Kent just raised his eyes to Chandler's and looked into his eyes, willing him to understand without the young mean having to explain everything. Even if it meant that he was rejected, as Alex said he would be. The DI's confused expression maintained for a few seconds, his eyes searching Kent's face furiously, before he put the pieces together in his mind. His dawning look of realisation could have been considered comical if the situation wasn't so serious. Kent bit his lip and looked at the floor, already expecting Chandler to up and leave now.

The young man shoved his tea onto the coffee table, the force making a small amount of the liquid spill over the edge, splattering the wooden surface, before standing up. Chandler flinched. He walked over to the only window in the living room and stared out, not wanting to see the look of rejection and disgust on his DI's face.

"I'm sorry Sir, I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear. Believe me sir, I've tried not to feel this way." The young man's shoulder's slumped. He looked…defeated. "and nothing will change. I can carry on the way that I have been, you don't need to have me transferred or anything, Sir I promise I won't make it difficult." The young man rambled, his voice getting more and more shaky and unstable as he continued.

He expected to hear the slam of a door at any moment and was shocked and elated when he felt a warm hand slide from his left shoulder blade, upwards, to curl around the junction of his neck and shoulder. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, not wanting to let Chandler know just how much his touch was affecting him.

"I don't want you to carry on the way you have been." Chandler said simply, before his fingers hooked under the younger man's loose shirt collar and pulled it down, exposing his neck. Emerson couldn't contain a surprised gasp when he felt the DI's lips press gently against his neck.

"What? Why are you…?" Kent began, his voice low and breathless.

Chandler smiled. "Do I really need to explain?" He left another kiss on Kent's neck, gently biting the pliable flesh.

Kent's heart pounded in his chest, while his mind was a whirling mess of disbelief. Chandler reciprocated? It seemed so improbable, but Kent wasn't going to protest, he would take what he could get.

He shook his head.

"No. No, you don't."

With that Kent turned around to face Chandler and studied his expression. There was no reluctance, only anticipation.

Both of Joe's hands came up to cup Emerson's cheeks before drawing him in. Initially their noses bumped, and they both gave nervous chuckles at the mishap, Kent's face immediately flushing, before repositioning and letting their lips finally come into contact.

They were frozen for the first few seconds, not wanting to break the moment. Kent's heart pounded in his chest, the blood rushing through his head and ears so fast, from both his nerves and elation, making him feel slightly faint.

Joe's hand slowly snaked around the back of the smaller man's head, pulling him closer, while threading the tips of his fingers through the long curly hair at the nape of Kent's neck.

Both men simultaneously opened their lips, the kiss immediately becoming frantic, their lips roughly moving over the other man's. It wasn't a particularly good kiss, but neither man minded, their heatedness of the embrace making up for it's lack of finesse.

Kent threw his arms around Joe's neck and forcefully drew the older man's bottom lip into his mouth, sucking gently, before clamping down with his teeth, smiling at the slight jump that the DI gave at the sudden shock of pain.

Once his lip was released, Chandler immediately replied by running his tongue along the inside of Kent's upper lip, sending a shiver down the younger man's spine. The action pulled a quiet sound of pleasure from the DC's throat, who slowly pulled away from the kiss, not opening his eyes for a few seconds. He licked his lips and sighed lightly.

Chandler watched the expressions of surprise, satisfaction and arousal flicker across the other man's face, as if he wasn't quite sure which emotion was the dominant one.

When Kent did open his eyes, Chandler was taken aback by the emotion swirling in the brimming brown irises. The young man was clearly having difficulty dealing with the recent events, everything having changed so quickly.

Kent smiled up at Chandler, the action making him seem even younger than he usually did at thirteen years his junior.

"Come on." He said softly, grabbing the taller man's hand (in his non-injured one) and confidently leading him to what Chandler presumed was the bedroom. Once inside the young DC immediately turned and requited their lips, giving Chandler no chance to even take in his surroundings, but he didn't really mind.

Within seconds both suit jackets had been pushed off of shoulders (Kent's right arm catching on the cast, making the two men laugh briefly), and shirt buttons were quickly being undone in between breathless kisses. When they were both shirtless the younger man stooped down and began to kiss, suck and bite Chandler's chest, his breath hitching at the scent of the other man's skin. A mixture of shower gel, deodorant, and Chandler's individual smell. Kent was almost dizzy with the assault on his senses.

Before Kent could move any lower Joe's hand skimmed up the pale arms and shoulders, pulling the young man up so he could reunite their lips. Only a few seconds later the DI's hands flew to the smaller man's trousers, his fingers fumbling over the button, cursing quietly when he as unable to undo it quick enough.

Kent chuckled and easily undid the button and lowered the zip himself, allowing the loose trousers to fall to the floor, taking off his socks at the same time. He looked up to find that Chandler had done the same.

He went to kiss the other man, but he found that Joe wasn't responding. He pulled away with a frown, noticing that Joe wasn't looking at his face, but at his body, with a shocked, pitying expression on his face.

Self consciously Kent looked down, and found what Joe was staring at.

There were bruises on his hips and on his upper arms, each one in a clear shape of a fingerprint or hand. They were from a few days previously when Alex had been too rough. He'd forgotten that they were still there.

"Um…" He uttered awkwardly, sorely tempted to wrap his arms around himself.

Joe seemed to come out of his stupor, moving forward, running his fingers over the bruises.

"He's been hurting you like this and you didn't tell us". Chandler said quietly, his jaw clenched in anger.

Kent shifted from one foot to the other, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. I was scared."

"I know." Joe muttered, suddenly rushing forward and capturing the young man's lips, effectively removing the awkwardness the brief exchange had conjured.

Kent sighed in relief, he was sure that Chandler was going to walk out after seeing the marks left by Alex. He enthusiastically wrapped his arms tightly around the taller man's neck, pulling him closer and down towards his lips.

Chandler's hands slid down the slim back, before gripping the back of one of Kent's thighs in each hand, pulling his legs out from under him and allowing him to wrap them around the DI's waist.

Joe was surprised at how light the DC was, he could easily support his weight.

Emerson let a small noise escape his lips as Chandler allowed them both to fall onto the bed, with the smaller man's legs still wrapped around Joe's waist. He arched up into the body above him, both men grunting at the pressure between them.

Joe looked down at Kent, taking a few seconds to study his face, the pale skin, contrasting against the flushed cheeks, the messy curly hair that he tried so hard to tame. Finally his eyes, big, wide, dark brown, with flecks of yellow. They showed how young he was and how kind. Alex was a monster for hurting the DC, making him ashamed of who he was.

"Emerson…" Chandler whispered, watching as Kent's lips quirked up in a gentle smile at the loving tone of the other's voice, before he dove forward again and kissed the young man, pulling him close and enveloping him tightly in his arms.

While Chandler hated that Alex had ever come into Kent's life, he couldn't help but think that this might never have happened otherwise, never have addressing the underlying emotions between the two of them.

The emotions were bittersweet, but Chandler had always believed that what didn't kill you, would only make you stronger.