Hello all! I am finally back with the newest chapter. Sorry again for the delay. I am probably one of the slowest writers EVER! Haha! Thank you so very much to everyone that reviewed last chapter. I always love reading your response to what I've worked so hard on. It helps motivate me to keep going. Also thank you to everyone that has added this story and me to their follows/favorites lists! It really means a lot to me! You are all wonderful! Just a quick warning: this chapter does contain bad language. Nothing terrible, but curse words none-the-less. Enjoy!
Chapter Nine
The fork shook faintly as it traveled up, a bit of scrambled egg just barely holding on, as Kevin's pale hand fought the desire to stab Calder's overly close leg. No he wouldn't stab his captor again. The detective learned the hard way that didn't do anything but cause problems. The last time Ryan tried to escape was the worst. He didn't see sunlight for over a week, being given only enough nourishment to survive. The detective shivered slightly at the memory of being stuck in what Calder called 'the box'. He remembered feeling the walls closing in, suffocating, with nothing but darkness to consume him, but that was almost a month ago. Since then Ryan knew he would have to play nice until his friends figured out he wasn't dead…if they figured out he wasn't dead. Kevin quickly shook that negative thought from his mind the action causing his food to drop back to the plate. Groaning in frustration the detective slammed his fork to the wooden table with a loud clang.
"You know, Kev. I could always feed you." Damon's voice was taunting as was his smirk.
Kevin clenched is jaw, refusing to respond, and focused again on the task of eating. Before the detective could even spear another piece of egg with his recovered fork the plate was unexpectedly pulled away from him.
Ryan cried out in distress, knowing what was coming next. Damon was indifferent to his captive's protest as he filled his own fork and lifted it towards Kevin's mouth. The Irishman pulled back as far as his chair would allow, closing his lips tightly.
Calder's smirk shifted into a wide shark-like smile, watching with amusement as his captive tried to defy him. "Come now, Kevin. I think we both know what will happen if you try to defy me. Just open your mouth like a good boy and I won't have to send you to bed without another meal. Who knows the next time I'll feel generous enough to feed you again."
Ryan squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to prevent Calder from seeing the forming tears there. He tried to ignore the shooting pains in his empty stomach, and the sensation of spinning that assaulted his senses. He knew he needed food; needed strength. So swallowing his pride Kevin reopened his glistening blue eyes, releasing a lone tear that traveled over a healing green and yellow bruise along his pointed cheek bone, and opened his mouth obediently.
Damon began feeding the worn Irishman with the care of a parent feeding their own child. The action bringing about an unease in the pit of Ryan's stomach and dousing his hunger.
"There…was that so hard?" Calder's voice rumbled deeply highlighting his southern accent. When only silence followed his word, the ex-military man's rough hand shot out and gripped his captive's face unrelentingly. His fingertips matched up perfectly with the deep blue bruises already left there. Humming disapprovingly, "I thought we discussed this, Kevin. When I ask you a question…you answer me!" Damon cautioned in a raised voice.
The detective flinched at his tormentor's shout and whispered softly. "I…I'm sorry."
Steely grey eyes narrowed slightly before Damon released his strong grip and pat his prisoner's pale cheek lightly. "It's alright. You're just a little tired, Kev."
They finished their breakfast without another incident before Calder led the NYPD detective back to his 'room' locking the door securely behind him. Stumbling down the stairs Ryan held tightly to the handrail in the hopes that his knees wouldn't buckle under him. Carefully, he made his way to the small bathroom next to the ratty mattress that brought him no sleep. Splashing cool water over his face Ryan looked up at his reflection in the small dingy mirror and found it difficult to recognize the face looking back.
His skin had a tint of grey pallor except for the many bruises decorating various parts of his body. Gingerly, the detective's pale slender fingers began his daily ritual of cleaning the many cuts received at the hands of his kidnapper. Hissing from the sting Ryan worked deftly his movements on autopilot from the numerous times he has treated his wounds in the past few months. The bone joint outlines of his raw discolored wrists jutting out with each movement of his hands as he slowing lifted his shirt. With care Ryan prodded his three broken ribs, hoping to gage their healing progress. After his inspection the weakened Irishman's fingertips ghosted over the visible lines of his ribcage; rage swelling in his chest at the hopelessness of his situation. Before he could stop himself Kevin smashed his fist into the mirror one, two, three times, the glass shattering to the ground around his bare feet. His chest heaving with his racing breath Ryan gripped the sides of the sink, hands slick with blood, as he tried to calm himself.
Dull haunted blue eyes flicked up, staring into the last few glass shards that still clung to the mirror's backing on the wall. The sight began to blur as Kevin's eyes filled with tears of frustration, blinking rapidly to clear his vision the detective's gaze lowered to his now bloodied hands. In somewhat of a trance, he watched the small tickles of crimson glided down the bowl of the sink and swirled slowly down the drain an idea forming in Ryan' mind. A very stupid, very dangerous and reckless plan. Clenching his jaw until the muscles there hurt detective Ryan ripped a strip of fabric from his shirt, carefully wrapped it around his right hand, and picked up the largest piece of glass from the floor that he could find.
"Javs! What the Hell were you thinking?! What is our unit's motto?!"
"If you fall behind you're left behind." Javier answered back his voice strained as he pulled Damon's injured almost deadweight with him. "But with all due respect Damon that's bullshit! I couldn't leave you to die or worse…you're my friend Damn it! If you wanted someone that could write you off like a lost hat then you picked the wrong person to train!"
Carefully, Javier lowered his injured leader to the sandy ground and pulled up his rifle using the scope to check if they were still being followed. Major Calder watched him with curiosity, blinking away the blood leaking over his eyelid from a deep cut on his forehead. The injured solider held tightly to his middle where his ribs had been abused, careful not to touch the angry burns littering his chest.
"I knew I saw something special in you. No one…ever in my life has done something like that for me. You could have easily been killed, but you came to rescue me…against immeasurable odds…on your own. It was near suicide."
Content with their position Javier sat down across from his friend. "You can thank me once we make it back to camp. Right now we've got to find shelter so I can bandage your wound up right. I did not just go through all that just so you could croak from infection before we get back."
The southerner laughed then coughed, spitting out blood. "Well I'll hold my thanks then."
The Hispanic soldier smiled and reached over to help Calder to his feet, but Damon held up his hands, stopping him. "Listen Javs. When we get back…there's something I want to tell you. After tonight there's no doubt in my mind that I can trust you. Trust you with my life."
Confusion flashed behind Javier's brown eyes. "What does that mean? Of course you can trust me. We've got each other's backs. We're a team."
Calder allowed Esposito to lift him up. "You can never be too careful when it comes to trusting someone. Always remember that."
Bang, bang, bang!
Javier pulled Damon behind a large boulder for cover as the bullets started. Throwing his CO a spare pistol the two shared a quick look before returning fire.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!
"Javier open up!"
Cracking his slightly glazed brown eyes, Esposito looked around at his messy living room. The remnants of his memory when he saved Calder's life slowly ebbing away from his consciousness.
"I know you're home. I can see the light from under your door. Also if I'm being perfectly honest I used the find your phone app. So unless you're being very reckless with the IPhone I so generously bought you then you're definitely in there." Richard Castle yelled through the locked door of Javier's apartment.
Javier leaned his head back against the couch and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to dull the sudden throbbing there. "Go away, Castle!" His voice came out rough and scratchy from lack of use.
"Uh…no."
"What?!"
"No I will not leave. You may not fully feel this way but I consider you a friend, a good friend, and you're hurting, I don't walk away from my friends that are hurting and in need of help." Rick said sincerely as he leaned his body against the door.
Javier slowly rose from his seat, his eyes slightly watery. "I don't need any help, Castle. What I need is to be left alone." His voice cracking on the last word, prompting an angry growl to follow.
Castle took a thoughtful breath. "But that's the thing, Javi…you're not alone."
The Hispanic detective staggered towards the door, knowing he should open it and face Castle; face the world. As he was in reaching distance of the doorknob, his hand hovering just inches from its destination, he stopped. With dark eyes Javier observed the slight tremors rippling through his outstretched hand.
"Okay fine! If I have to I'll just sit here all day and night and day again and night again. I mean it! I have pages due to my editor so I'm looking for an excuse to delay actually working."
Javier flexed his shaking hand and rolled his eyes before opening his apartment door. Castle tumbling across the threshold as the door he was only moments before sitting against was pulled away. In an almost comically manner Richard stumbled back to his feet, righted his coat, and flash Javier a bright, albeit forced, smile.
"Why are you here, Castle?"
The writer silently strengthened his resolve, and pushed past Javier farther into the disaster of his friend's apartment. Rick's perceptive eyes swept slowly over the numerous empty glass bottles of various alcoholic beverages that littered the kitchen and attached living area. There was dirty clothes strewn about the room and a few places where the walls had been dented, which ones were by a fist or an object, Castle wasn't sure. However, it wasn't the state of the room or his friend's hastily bandaged knuckles that halted the novelist's steps, but the completely untouched bottle of Irish whiskey Kevin had brought Javier from his honeymoon in Ireland as a gift that stood on the otherwise empty coffee table.
"I'm here because I thought you might want to help me, Kate, and Sam on our new case." Rick said, clapping his hands together loudly.
A jolt of sadness shot through Javier's heart at the mention of his partner's replacement. Samuel Whitmore was a good kid, a good cop, and Esposito would be forever grateful for his help tracking Kevin…even if it didn't work out the way they all had hoped. There was even a part of Javier that was glad Sam was the person who took over Ryan's job, but the Hispanic detective resented that the position needed to be filled at all.
Brushing his sadness aside Javier focused on an easier emotion, anger. "I don't work for the NYPD anymore, remember?" He growled through clenched teeth.
Castle looked taken aback by the hostility rolling off his friend and started to rethink this plan. Kate told him not to come, not to tell Javier yet. She didn't want him involved until they had more to go on, but Rick couldn't help himself. He knew his friend deserved to be informed of what was happening. But now, standing in front of Javier, a shell of his former-self, Castle wasn't so sure.
"Espo, just listen to me for a moment. I really think you'll want to-"
"NO!" Javier cut the writer off with a cry.
Startled by his sudden outburst Castle stumbled back a step, but Richard Castle was known as many things, and a quitter was not one of them. "Okay…okay so maybe you need a coffee or something before we talk. I can make us-"
Patience spent Javier gripped Castle's upper arm in a slightly painful hold and pulled him back towards the door. "I don't care what you want to tell me. I don't care what your new case is. I do not work for the NYPD anymore. Now leave me be!"
The door rushing to close in his face triggered a panic in the writer's chest. He couldn't let Javier close that door, not when he is so clearly wrecked. With time for only one final attempt Castle shouted the one things his friend wouldn't be able to ignore. "It's Calder!"
The wooden panels jerked to a halt just inches from its frame. "What?" The weary former detective's voice questioned.
"It's Calder. He tripped up. We found him on some security footage while investigating our new case, and we have a plan to catch him…but we need your help."
As predicated Javier opened the door fully, his brown eyes clearer than only moments before, and his voice firm. "Tell me everything."
Aww Castle is a good friend. What did you think of the newest chapter? Leave me a review to let me know if I'm doing alright. I hope to get a bit more consistent on uploading, but sadly I can only get so much writing done with my busy schedule. Believe me though, I cannot stand leaving anything unfinished. So it may take time, but I will complete all of my outstanding stories. What do you think will happen to Ryan? What kind of crazy plan does he have up his sleeve? Thanks for reading! Until next time…
