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[cat_13145]

Title: Soldier Boys
Author: Cat_13145
Pairing: Don/Ian
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU Ian Edgerton is the first person Don meets after being shipped off to military school
Author's Note: This is posted thanks to jestana  and cerealkiller0, both of whom asked for a sequel to my  numb3rs_newyear fic for cerealkiller0. Hope she still thinks I'm the coolest author, especially after betaing this. Thanks and Enjoy!

 

 

Chapter 2

“You the probie?”

Don blinked, his mind running over the terms he was fairly certain that the kid with a stick up his ass had explained on the tour. Probie meant the new kid.

“Yeah,” he said, glancing around the dorm. Two bunk beds stood against the walls, and four grey lockers stood on either side of the beds.

The kid who asked the question nodded. “I’m David Sinclair.”

He indicated the kid sitting on the bunk above him. “This is Colby Granger.”

“Hey.”

Colby was a nice enough looking blond, with a Midwestern accent and a gait that suggested he’d been here since elementary school. David was black and muscular, looking like every TV marine Don had ever seen.

“Don Eppes.”

David nodded. “Californian right?”

At Don’s nod, he added, “I’m from New York. And Colby, here’s, from Idaho.”

“I guessed.”

“What gave me away?” Colby asked, peered down at them.

Don just grinned. He looked at the other two beds, trying to figure out which one was his, but they were both made with blankets so tight that you could bounce a quarter on it.

“You’re on the bottom.” Colby volunteered, helpfully, following Don’s gaze.

“Thanks.” He put his carry-all on the bottom bunk, looking around.

“Thought the bottom bunk was the better one,” he muttered, opening his bag.

“Yeah, well,” David muttered pulling a book out of his locker. “When you meet the guy you may not count yourself as so lucky.”

“Oh yeah?” Don questioned, pulling open the one empty locker and beginning to pull out clothes. He stood, trying to remember where the kid had said shirts went.

“It’s just…well…”

“Ian’s a psycho!” Colby interrupted.

“He’s not a psycho, man. Marshal just told you that to get you going.” David shook his head and looked up at Don. “Ian’s just a little…”

“Little what, Sinclair?”

All three spun towards the door. Don didn’t hear David’s explanation, as he stared. It was the same young man from earlier, the one who’d he’d shared a cigarette; the one person who he thought might be a friend. Apparently, they were bunk mates.

This could be good. Except Ian was acting like they’d never met.

David made introduction, and Ian merely made what could only be described as a grunt, before pulling himself up onto the bunk.

Don continued unpacking.

****

“So why are you here?” Don asked, sitting on the box underneath Stonewall’s window. Ian raised an eyebrow.

In public, during classes and in their dorm, Ian barely spoke to him. But almost every afternoon, they met beneath the window and talked. Don had discovered that the zen attitude he had noticed on the first day was simply a part of who Ian was. That he liked Hershey, but not Mars, that he knew the timing of every security camera and of the guards’ rounds. He also knew when most of the teachers were scheduling or planning tests. He could out-do anyone in lessons, but rarely seemed to put the effort in.

The guy seemed to have a method of getting hold of everything that was black market, and yet none of the others seemed to take the risk of getting too close.

The view that Ian was a psychopath wasn’t unique to Colby. Don also heard it from Nathan and Tim; even Robin (who had a thing for bad boys) seemed to steer clear of Ian. When Don asked them where they’d heard that, most of them sited old kids who left. It also seemed that Ian had been here since anyone could remember.

The guy certainly never volunteered information about his past, and there never seemed to be anything for him at the mail call. It was weird.

Don finally decided to take his mother’s advice and went straight to the source.

“Don’t know what you mean.” Ian said, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah you do.” Don shifted. “Colby’s here cause his old man is and everyone in his family has been here. David’s a scholarship kid. You know about me.” He shrugged. Ian had somehow, without any words, got the whole story of Charlie and Derek Steinman and his family out of him on their second meeting. “So what about you?”

Ian picked at the bottle wrapper, starting to peel it off. “I was born and my parents died.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“Well that’s what it feels like!” Ian suddenly was up and Don knew instinctively that this conversation was over. He watched as Ian slouched off and waited until he was out of sight before emerging.

He almost ran head-first into Colby, who was standing out there.

“Hey.” The blond was uncharacteristically nervous, fiddling with the uniform belt.

“Hey.” Don made to push past him, but Colby shot out a hand to stop him.

“Look, I saw you and Ian hanging out.”

“So? You gonna tattle on us?”

A faint flush came over Colby’s cheeks. “I’m no Arnold. Just thought you ought to know about Ian.” The blond sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Look that stuff I said on first day about Ian being a psycho; I didn’t hear it from Marshal.” He looked down at his feet. “I heard it from my dad.” He looked nervously around him. “Ian came here when he was just eight, youngest cadet they’ve ever taken. They took him, cause,” he swallowed. “Cause the place he was at before this, some catholic orphanage, he went nuts and nearly strangled a teacher.”

Colby evidently read Don’s disbelief in his face, as he said, “It’s true. Ask Coop if you don’t believe me.” 
Coop was the oldest cadet on base, a giant red head who’d been here longer than anyone could remember. If Colby was recommending he ask Coop, then he had to be pretty sure of his facts.

“Not judging,” Colby said, firmly. “Just advising you to stay away. Ian,” he shrugged. “He’s trouble

.”