Yep, I caved and took a stab at some post-finale fic. Hope you like!
Also, this is not beta-ed. All mistakes are mine.
Disclaimer: Definitely not mine.
Summary: "To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now." -Samuel Beckett
Messy Together (1/3)
His head is pounding.
He can feel all the muscles on his skull throbbing with adrenaline and anger. Angry with Gates, and Ryan, a little bit with Beckett.
Angry with himself.
He heads for the elevator, but realizes that he's too tense for the smooth decent and turns to the stairs. His feet fall heavy on the cement steps. Harsh beats echo back at him.
You could lose your job.
You could lose your partner.
You could lose your friend.
He reaches the floor below and pauses. Somehow his fist comes into contact with the brick wall. The skin breaks for small drops of blood but he doesn't care.
She needed your help.
You needed to help.
You failed.
With a shake of his hand – that'll bruise – he starts his decent again. He hits the parking garage almost at a run, practically tearing the door off of his car when he gets to it. He's sitting in the driver's seat, key in the ignition, knuckles white with tension, gripping the wheel, when he realizes that he has no idea where the hell to go.
The world thunders around him, booming and cracking with flashes of lightening.
Where the hell can he go?
It's a full-blown thunderstorm when he gets there, and the water is dripping from his sleeves and jeans. The soles of his shoes squish on the tiled floor.
There are officers and doctors and interns giving him odd looks, but he just doesn't care. He just needs to see her.
He hesitates outside the morgue, hoping she's not busy. The double doors slide open with a push of his palm. The room is empty and cold. Like him. He finds her in the office, examining something on her computer monitor. She probably has no idea of what's happened in the last two days. He raps his 'better' hand against the doorframe, her head pops up at the sound. Her face falls in a blink, her eyes wide. "Javi…" her voice is breathy and surprised.
Surprised to see him here, now, and not in the middle of the night at one of their apartments. When she thinks he's in the middle of a case. And when he probably looks like he's been hit by a bus.
"What happened?" Her hand comes up to cup his cheek. He didn't even notice that she had stood up and crossed the room.
"It was him. The guy who shot Kate."
She gasps.
"She wouldn't back down, and I encouraged her."
Lanie takes his hands, noticing how ripped up his right one is, and pulls him to sit on the couch against the wall. Her voice is tight, almost teary, "Javi," she pleads with him, "what happened?"
He rests a hand on top of hers, warm and as comforting as he can be. "We went after him. Kate and I. Didn't tell Gates. I-I couldn't fight with her. She would've gone on her own and gotten herself killed."
"So she's okay?"
"Sort of," he sighs. His eyes drop to his hands, his right, bruised and stained with streaks of blood, his left intertwined with hers. "Ryan told Gates where we went. I'm on suspension."
"And Kate?"
He looks at her with solemn eyes, rubs his thumb across the side of her hand, "She resigned."
"She what?"
He can only nod. "'Bout half an hour ago. I haven't seen her since. I just…walked out. I don't know if I'll have a job to come back to, or a partner."
She apologizes even though she knows the words mean absolutely nothing and do nothing for him. "Here," she stands and picks up a first aid kit from behind her desk, "let me clean you up. You look like you can use it right about now."
He watches her disinfect the cuts on his knuckles and bandage up his hand. She's so careful, and gentle. Her fingers just feel like love. When she finishes she looks up at him, first aid kit pushed to the side. "I didn't know what to do. Even if we told Gates in the first place there's no way in hell she would've let her work this case. And you know her."
"She would've gone anyway." She's sitting closer, cradling the hand she just tended. "She's lucky to have you. Ryan is lucky to have you. I'm sure they know that."
"You know, I probably have the exact same training as this guy. Same weapon, same skills."
She rushes to pull his face to look at her, making him focus on the truth. "But the difference is, you use all that training for good. You help people. You save people."
"Do I? Almost a year we've been chasing him. He's like a mist. Every time we get anywhere near close he disappears. And right now, he's winning. Knocked me flat on my ass."
"Hey," she croons, "it's not over yet."
"What else can I do Lain?"
"Well, you're going to wait out your suspension, and we'll knock some sense into Kate. You'll go back to work and you and Ryan will forgive each other. And you'll be back at it soon enough. You just have to be patient."
He leans over to kiss her forehead, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm so sorry Lanie. I don't want to do this without you."
He feels her tense in his hold.
"Can we start over? Fix everything we screwed up? There doesn't have to be an end goal. We can just be us."
She relaxes, burying her face in his neck, not caring that he smells like sweat and rain. He smelled like him. Like the only man she's been able to think about for the past six months.
"No." She pulls back to look at him. "But we can start where we left off. Only…better."
His face cracks into the smile she's missed so much.
Her hands find a home on his biceps, his on her waist. He meets her halfway, his lips meeting hers in a fury of passion that's been absent from their lives.
And suddenly, he thinks, everything seems just a little bit lighter.