Disclaimer: I do not own Castle. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit is being made.
A/N: So, this is a quick oneshot in response to a prompt over at the Castle kink meme on Livejournal. It's a little rough, but it was fun to write, and I think it unstuck me on my other story, so with any luck, there will be a Thin Blue Line update tomorrow evening.
"I'm your partner. That means I'm with you 'til the wheels fall off."
Goddamnit. The earnestness in Ryan's expression just about killed him, and he had to break eye contact. He glanced down, then back up, hating what he had to say next, already anticipating the hurt he'd see in those unearthly blue eyes.
"I know, bro," he started, "but..." There it was, the flash of pain, the sting of rejection that was the last thing Esposito wanted to cause. "I'm gonna need you to get my back if things go wrong, alright?"
Ryan looked crushed, and it was pulling in a lot more of Esposito's willpower than he wanted to consider to keep from reaching out, to keep from relenting, but damnit, Esposito was not going to let Ryan risk his badge- or his life- for his ghosts. He couldn't afford to give ground, not now, because if he gave even a little bit, he'd fold completely.
"...Okay," Ryan managed, and Esposito was pretty sure he'd have felt less guilty running over a puppy, but he forced a last bit of strength.
"Thanks." His tone was almost clipped, and he slid behind the wheel, taking one last glance at his partner, hoping he hadn't just destroyed the one thing in his world he truly needed as he drove away.
Every muscle tense, stomach knotted, Ryan was pacing the ground floor hall of the precinct when Beckett called. They were moving out not two minutes later, Ryan riding along with Demming as they rushed to Racine's office. He did his best not to give anything away, glad that Demming was focusing on driving and not talking. He wasn't sure he would have managed anything in the way of civilized conversation while he was busy imagining all the things that could be going wrong. His fears were not eased when he thought he caught the muffled sound of a gunshot as he circled around to the back of the building.
Initially, when he came around the corner, Ryan didn't notice the wound on Holliwell's side- he'd turned back toward Beckett as he'd raised his hands, and his jacket had blocked the blood from Ryan's view. When he did notice, his blood ran cold. No way Esposito marked Holliwell and let him walk away, not if he had a choice.
"Where's Esposito?" he asked, the panic not yet reaching his voice. When it took longer than the single second Ryan was willing to wait, he caught Holliwell's coat and yanked, torquing the wound on his side. "Where's Esposito?"
"Racine's office- second floor," Holliwell spat, and Ryan's stomach went even tighter at the way Holliwell's grimace of pain seemed just a bit smug.
Ryan took the stairs- waiting for the elevator would have cost him valuable seconds. On some level, he was both surprised and grateful when Castle followed close on his heels- he may not have been a cop, but some backup was better than none- but his attention was focused on getting up the flight of steps as quickly as physically possible. He needed to find Esposito, needed to make sure he was alright.
"Esposito!" he shouted, as soon as he was clear of the stairwell door, and it just about killed him that it was an unfamiliar voice that called back.
"In here!"
Ryan took the corner out of the hall and into the office sharply enough to clip the wall. Thornton was kneeling, Esposito sprawled barely conscious on the ground beside him, blood already thick enough on the floor to turn the plush cream carpet black. Ryan hit the ground beside him on his knees and shoved his radio at Thornton without a word- he heard him call out for an ambulance, but the words were a vague blur in the background.
"Damnit, Esposito," he managed, pressing the heel of his hand into the freely bleeding wound low on his shoulder. He was losing too much blood, how was he losing so much blood?
"Kevin?" Esposito murmured, sounding confused, and Ryan couldn't still the shiver of fear that rolled through him. Esposito never called him by his first name, not even after a few drinks.
"Yeah, man, I'm right here," he replied, pressing harder against the wound, trying to stop the blood from seeping out from beneath his hand. Esposito hissed and tried to shift away, but Ryan moved so that he was resting against his thigh, giving him nowhere to go. "I gotta stop the bleeding, man, don't move."
"Looks like... needed the backup after all," Esposito said, apparently giving up his efforts to move and simply leaning back bonelessly against Ryan. "I'm sorry, Kev..."
"Don't be sorry," Ryan replied, practically begging. "Don't be sorry. Just hold on, okay? The ambulance is on its way, I just need you to hold on, alright?"
"Shouldn't of said it like that... Just didn't want you to get hurt. Not 'cause of me. Not ever." Esposito made a feeble effort to grab his wrist, and Ryan had to bite his lip to keep from honestly panicking at how weak Esposito's grip was.
"Dude, come on, please don't talk like that." He was begging, now, there was no hiding it. "Please, Esposito, just... Just hang on. I need you to hang on. I need you." The words slipped out, but he couldn't bring himself to care that they weren't alone, that he was giving away so much more than he'd ever intended to. "Please, man. Stay with me."
"Always," Esposito murmured, rubbing his thumb lightly against the thin skin of Ryan's inner wrist. "Til the wheels fall off." His eyes drifted closed, and his grip went slack- Ryan felt his own heart stutter in his chest.
"Esposito... Esposito! Don't you do this! Damnit, Esposito, don't you dare do this!" He pressed harder, trying to do more to stop the blood, trying to get a response, any response. "Please, please don't do this. Stay with me, damnit, please!" He was frantic, begging, pleading with his partner. Tears rolled hot and unwelcome down his cheeks, landing on his bloody hands. He leaned down, bent nearly double to press his forehead against Esposito's, struggling for control, struggling to keep back the anguish that had opened like a pit of fire in his gut. "Please, Javi, I can't do this without you," he whispered, his voice ragged, full of things he'd tried very hard not to name. Things he'd tried very hard not to show, things that now he wished he could say.
He didn't move until the paramedics forced him to, and even then, he refused to do more than shift to Esposito's other side, watching with hollow eyes and keeping pace as they wheeled him out. He stayed beside him, gripping one wrist in a desperate mimicry of Esposito's earlier hold on him, until the hospital staff barred his path, and he stood staring after him until someone finally guided him to a seat.
His head was full of cotton fluff. Everything was distant, and fuzzy, and the cotton had absorbed all of the moisture out of his mouth- he was parched. Slowly, Esposito opened his eyes, intending to reach for the bottle of water he kept beside his bed, and he frowned. His room, he was pretty sure, did not have an acoustic tile ceiling, nor were his curtains pale lavender. Also, his room didn't beep quite so much- puzzled, he made an effort to sit up. Not a good idea, as it turned out, and he fell back against the bed- he was in a bed, even if it wasn't his own- with a short groan of pain. His shoulder burned, though it was distant, fuzzy...
It clicked into place suddenly. He was in a hospital, and he was on pain meds. That would explain the fuzzy, and the pain, and the dry mouth. He moved to sit up again, much more slowly this time. The faintest edge of a smile touched his lips when he realized that he wasn't alone.
Beside him, in a position that had to be ungodly uncomfortable, Ryan was asleep- he was sitting in one of the plastic hospital chairs, but he was leaning forward and sideways, his head resting on the bed just below Esposito's hand. It was kinda adorable, really, and Esposito wondered how long he'd been there like that. He also wondered why, exactly, they were there at all- obviously something had gone wrong, but the details were a little muddy.
"Ryan... Hey, man, wake up," he said quietly, his voice low and raspy, but that was only to be expected. Much to his amusement, Ryan didn't wake up- he just shifted a bit, bringing his hair within reach of Esposito's fingertips. Smiling with unguarded affection- something he was pretty sure he was blaming on the pain meds- he shifted just a bit, petting the hair that had so conveniently presented itself. Moving his arm hurt, but it was kinda worth it; Ryan's hair was soft and springy.
Maybe it was the light touch, or maybe it was the bed creaking when Esposito moved, but Ryan stirred, blinking and sitting up abruptly. Esposito instantly felt guilty- he hadn't really been able to see Ryan's face when he'd been lying down, but he looked like crap. His eyes were red-rimmed and surrounded by dark shadows so heavy it looked like he'd lost a fight; lines of strain and exhaustion further marked his eyes and the corners of his mouth. The way he glanced around, his eyes jumping instantly to the softly beeping machines when he woke, looked terrified.
"Easy, man, didn't mean to startle you," Esposito said softly, and Ryan's eyes snapped to him. He looked startled, confused, and Esposito thought he maybe wasn't completely awake yet.
"Javi?" he asked, quiet desperation in his voice, and another wave of guilt swamped Esposito.
"Yeah, man. You okay?" His brow furrowed, and he tried to reach out to catch hold of Ryan's wrist, but the pain in his shoulder made him fall short. Ryan, still staring at him like he couldn't quite believe he was actually talking, caught his hand, and held it- didn't give him a quick squeeze, or take a safe-but-still-affectionate grip on his wrist, but actually held his hand, clutching it like he was afraid to let go.
"You're awake," Ryan said, still with that desperate edge.
"...Yeah," Esposito said slowly, pretty sure that he was, in fact, awake. That Ryan seemed to be having trouble with that concept was... really not reassuring. "You look like I shouldn't be."
"The-" Whatever Ryan was going to say, he apparently thought the better of it, and he blinked quickly- Esposito was startled to see tears welling up. "Good," Ryan said finally. "It's... I'm glad you're awake. I should... I should let the nurses know." Ryan hesitated, and Esposito gently flexed his fingers around Ryan's.
"You wanna tell me what's up, first?" he asked, not really wanting Ryan to leave, not really wanting to deal with anyone else. Wanting, also, to know why his partner looked on the edge of crying.
Ryan gave him a look, one he wasn't quite sure how to interpret, and moved like he was going to pull his hand back. Esposito squeezed his fingers again, not willing to lose the contact- he was probably going to regret that later, but he was still a little dazed. Ryan yielded, more easily than Esposito would have expected, leaving their hands entwined.
"You've been out for days," Ryan managed, avoiding his eyes by staring at their joined hands. Esposito blinked, alarmed- and then wondered if Ryan had been sleeping in those godawful chairs for days, as well, and he felt guilty again.
"What happened?"
"You don't remember?" Ryan glanced up at him, and there was a flash of... something in his sharp blue gaze, but he was looking down again before Esposito could figure out what.
"Not so much." Esposito paused to think, trying to remember what case they'd been on. "We were looking into the murder of... Paul Fitch..." Bad scene, guy'd been electrocuted... After a moment's concentration, the memory came flooding back, chasing away some of the pleasant distance from the pain medication. He remembered Ike, remembered going to help him find the ledger... Remembered Holliwell. "The dirty cop!" he exclaimed, trying to sit up further- Ryan looked back up at his sudden movement, and quickly pushed him back down, though he didn't let go of his hand. "Holliwell, from IA-"
"Yeah, we know. We got him. And Racine. Case's closed, man, Demming even threw Thornton a bone and kept his name out of the robbery report." Ryan's voice had gone flat, almost hard, though his touch was still gentle.
"Oh." He stopped trying to move, the ache in his shoulder starting to pick up in intensity. "I... Holliwell pulled a gun on us."
"Yeah." Ryan's tone was downright clipped, now, and Esposito frowned.
"That S.O.B. shot me, didn't he?" Esposito theorized, glancing at his shoulder, which was heavily bandaged.
"Yeah."
"Fuck. That was definitely not part of the plan."
"Yeah, well, the plan sucked," Ryan snapped, dropping Esposito's hand. He felt an odd pang of loss, and met his partner's angry glare with unease.
"I think I'm getting that," he said, his tone conciliatory, and he remembered the rest. Remembered how hurt Ryan had looked when he'd turned down his offer of help, how fragile he'd seemed in that moment. He vaguely remembered the pain, and the fear, and the feel of Ryan holding him, trying to stop the bleeding. He also vaguely remembered trying to explain, while he felt the world spinning away, and pleading words whispered across a distance he couldn't explain. "... Ryan..."
"Don't," Ryan said, moving to stand. Esposito reached out and caught his wrist, gritting his teeth against the flare of pain in his shoulder, and Ryan paused, his expression flowing from one emotion to another too quickly to follow. He sank back down into his chair, and Esposito brushed his thumb lightly over the inside of his wrist. "The doctors weren't sure you'd make it," Ryan said, after a moment. The vulnerability in his tone was obvious, and he met Esposito's eyes, offering, waiting.
Esposito dropped his hand from Ryan's wrist to his fingers, entwining them again, pushing that boundary that they'd always skirted so carefully. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Ryan's hand, feeling the tiny tremors just beneath the skin- nerves, exhaustion, stress. He wanted to still those tremors, to ease that burden. Ignoring the way it made his entire arm burn, Esposito lifted Ryan's hand to his lips, ghosting a kiss over the skin.
"You're my partner," he said quietly, putting everything they'd never said into the words, a promise he'd never dared make to anyone before, feelings he'd never been willing to show. He held Ryan's gaze, refusing to falter, needing to know that he was listening, that they were on the same page. Needing to know that Ryan would understand exactly what he meant, exactly what he wasn't saying. "That means I'm with you 'til the wheels fall off."