Chapter Twenty: Hide and Seek

Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.
—The Godfather Part II (1974)

Javier had no idea how long he stood there, frozen in the goddamned doorway like an idiot as he struggled vainly to process what had happened.

This was his fault. It was his fault no matter how he looked at it. He had failed his partner—first in his cowardly refusal to face Reichardt, and then by leaving his partner's side when Kevin had needed him there the most. And though Javier's control in that situation had been stolen from him, even that could not excuse him. While the choice might have been taken from him in this time, it had fallen into the hands of his future self. That man had chosen to let their only chance to get Kevin back slip through his fingers.

No—stop. Focus.

Javier closed his eyes and forced himself to control his rapid breathing and to reach past the panic clouding his thoughts. Because if he forced himself to think about it rationally—as far as the word even applied anymore—he knew it wasn't as bad as it seemed. Because Kevin had been there. That first time he had found himself in the future Kevin had been there. Javier had seen him with his own eyes. He called that image to his mind, holding onto it and forcing himself to breathe and to remember that he had seen proof first hand that they would get Kevin back, and that—

And that somehow Kevin had managed to sneak up on him while Javier had been standing in front of a mirror in an empty restroom.

It doesn't sound like Claude's style... Bennet had said during Konrad's interrogation. Too...visible.

Javier's breath caught before that recollection even had the chance to turn into a complete thought. With his eyes still closed, as he held his breath it was quiet enough that he managed to hear a soft sound—a breath or the movement of cloth maybe. It was just faint enough that he couldn't tell what it was, but he heard it all the same. And when he opened his eyes, slowly, the room in front of him still appeared to be empty, but he knew it wasn't. He knew—

The room wasn't empty, and the only reason it wasn't was because Javier was still standing in the goddamned doorway...

Javier reached slowly into his jacket. Listening tensely, he didn't miss the soft intake of breath as he drew his gun. And there was no target in front of him at which to aim, but he raised the weapon anyway.

"Freeze," he demanded.

He had almost no warning before the unseen weight of another body collided with his in what absolutely felt like a shoulder-check. It was almost successful in knocking him off his feet—it was successful in knocking him out of the way. But Javier was able to let the momentum turn him around as it passed so that he was facing the route of escape. And then there was no choice but for Javier to do the only thing he still could do—

He fired.

Javier aimed six shots blindly down the empty hallway—a reckless fucking move, and just as desperate. Four of them impacted harmlessly with the far wall, but two of them bloomed bright red in midair. There was a grunt of pain, and suddenly Konrad became visible as he tumbled to his knees.

Javier caught up to him quickly, biting back a twist of nausea as he watched the bullet work its way out of his partner's shoulder and— Jesus, what had he done?

It's not Kevin, Javier reminded himself harshly, swallowing. It's not him.

But, God, once Konrad turned to face him—once he saw the pain in the man's face, and the ragged exit wound and the bright scarlet stain soaking through the front of his vest—it was so hard for Javier to believe that.

Breathe. Think. Focus.

And though the sight of Kevin on his knees and bleeding on the floor in front of him made his chest tighten, Javier did force himself to breathe and to hold his gun steady as he kept his aim on the downed man.

"I said 'freeze', goddamn it."

The pain smoothed away from Konrad's expression quickly enough as he looked up at Javier. Just for a second Javier saw something else there—not recognition, but a kind of disarmed confusion in the other man's eyes that he couldn't quite put a name to. It was only apparent for a short moment, quickly hidden behind a bright, unconcerned smile.

And Javier had seen that smile several times—during an interrogation or across a poker table, and just once while his partner was being tortured—but Javier had never seen it aimed at him, like he was a stranger.

"Don't think we've met yet," Konrad said conversationally, as if a bullet hadn't just torn through his guts. "You a cop or a Company man?"

"I'm your worst nightmare if you even think about trying to set foot outside this precinct," Javier answered him sharply.

And where he had even found the bravado for it, Javier really couldn't say, because as even as his voice sounded it wouldn't have taken very much at all to shove him back into the maw of total panic.

Konrad looked him over thoughtfully, his smile turning more sincere—curious and sympathetic—as he worked his way to his feet. He looked at the gun in Javier's hands speculatively, patient but not at all close to impressed. The blood had already stopped seeping from the wound in his stomach, and Konrad just stood there, watching him carefully. And that was when finally managed to sink in that Konrad didn't see Javier and his gun as a threat or an obstacle but as an inconvenience—

At best.

And it all would have been so much easier if he only looked like Kevin, but Konrad also sounded like him, in his voice and even a little bit in his words. He moved like Kevin. His facial expressions spoke a language Javier had long grown fluent in—a language he could still half read, even though deep down he hardly knew this man at all. Javier doubted almost anyone else would have seen Konrad's slight hesitation as the immortal stared him down and looked at him with an expression which was stubbornly determined and—again, if it were Kevin—just a little regretful.

"Listen, kid," Konrad said softly, raising his hands in a neutral pose that was likely meant to be nonthreatening, but failed spectacularly, "you don't want to get in my way."

Javier clamped down on his irritation at the slight, and kept his grip on the gun steady.

"Call me 'kid' again," Javier said, evenly. "I dare you."

And Konrad's gaze lit with a fierce energy not unlike what he had leveled on Bennet in interrogation—eyes narrowing on Javier, not with anger but with purpose.

"If that's the way you want to play this..." Konrad said, shaking his head, though his mouth drew into a faint, taunting smile. "Kid."

(—
=)

When Kate and the other officers found him, drawn back by the sound of gunfire, Javier was standing in the hallway with a hand pressed tightly to the back of his head. He had a split lip, and there was a throb across his left cheek that he could already tell was going to bruise pretty darkly. Kate swept a cautious eye over the hall before she lowered her gun to approach, looking him over carefully.

"What happened here?" Kate asked.

"Konrad," Javier managed tightly. "He can turn invisible. He was still here, and he got past me and I—"

He caught himself, swallowing and wetting his lips only to wince at the sting.

"He got my gun," Javier said finally, not quite daring to meet Kate's eye. "He was headed toward the stairwell on the east side of the building."

A few of the officers headed off immediately, and Kate quickly sent the rest after them. Once they had gone, she took a moment to squeeze his shoulder, forcing him to look and to make eye contact as she held his gaze with her own.

"We'll find him, Javier," Kate said firmly. "I promise."

And Javier couldn't say anything to that, he simply nodded.

Once she was out of sight Javier felt the cool pressure of the gun Konrad had taken from him ease away from the back of his head, and he let himself relax just a little. The grip around his wrist still held tight, however. And, unfortunately for him, with his hand pressed his head like that, obviously injured, and with the immortal standing unseen behind him, Javier didn't even look like he was being led.

"Good," Konrad's voice said, a low whisper in his ear. "Now take me to the parking lot. Your car."

Seeing no immediate way out of his current situation, Javier did as he was told. Kate would have kicked him for it, but he found that gun at his back ridiculously reassuring. As long as Konrad was holding him hostage Javier knew where he was, and even the constant threat of injury was preferable to losing track of him—losing Kevin—entirely. And Javier hated not being in control of his circumstances, but there were degrees. Javier could handle something like Konrad holding him at gunpoint—an obstacle he could face and fight if he had to—but just seeing that empty room had almost broken him completely.

Which wasn't to say Javier was happy about it—he absolutely wasn't. And it was small comfort, but Konrad didn't seem ecstatic about the situation either. He had dropped the invisibility once they reached the parking garage and found it empty. Once they reached Javier's car, Konrad had him raise his hands as he fished through his jacket, digging out Javier's keys and wallet. Javier watched the joyless expression on the other man's face as he pocketed the cash from the wallet.

"Listen...Detective Esposito," Konrad said, pulling the name from Javier's driver's license, "I really am very sorry about this, but you haven't given me much of a choice."

He even sounded sincere, but Javier wasn't feeling generous enough to accept the apology of a man in the progress of mugging him. He chose to say nothing, and watched Konrad's expression twist into something even more unhappy, and just a little ashamed.

"Look, I'm not stupid," Konrad continued, forcing himself to look Javier in the eye. "If I were just a suspect to you people, you could have just unlocked my memories and been done with it. But you didn't. You walled off Ryan's memories in my head and I know why."

He paused, shaking his head as if still trying to make sense of it—which Javier seriously wished him luck with, because if Konrad ever managed to figure it out, the man might be able to give him some advice.

"You're NYPD, right?" Konrad continued wearily. "Ryan's a friend of yours, and you want him back. I understand that...and I'm not trying to stop you."

And Javier was thrown for a moment, because he didn't think he could possibly have heard that right.

"What?"

Seeing that he had Javier's attention, Konrad took a breath, hesitating.

"I only want one thing," Konrad said slowly, "and I promise you can march me right back in my cage."

Konrad paused a moment, allowing that to sink in before he continued.

"Adam just told me that my son is dying," Konrad said, his voice turning alarmingly fragile as he spoke. "I haven't seen Sam in fifty years. Please. Please, just... Let me do this. Just this. Let me say goodbye to my son."

And his voice did break at that, and Javier saw the beginnings of tears in the man's eyes.

"Please?" Konrad asked him again. "If I go back now—if I become Ryan again—I won't get another chance."

His tone was so pleading and hurt and earnest that Javier had to listen very closely to the words themselves rather than the emotion in them in order to ignore the stubborn part of himself that kept wanting to forget that it wasn't Kevin that was speaking. And the intelligence they had on Konrad didn't say anything about a son. Despite his every instinct screaming at him that Konrad was telling the truth—or, perhaps, even more because of them—Javier didn't know if he could trust him.

"Adam apparently hates your guts. How do you know it's not a trap?" Javier eventually managed, finally latching onto a thought he could use.

"Doesn't matter," Konrad said, shaking his head. "I can't just walk away. Fifty years from now—a hundred years from now—I'd rather regret something that I did than something I didn't do. I have to do this."

And Javier hurt for him, he really, honestly did, in spite of himself. But he had made a promise, and this was his last chance to keep it.

"I can't just let you go," Javier said, voice calm and more sure than he had actually felt for a very long time. "I promised Kevin I wouldn't let him out of my sight. If your plan is to walk out of here, you're going to have to shoot me, because the only way it's going to happen is if I'm dead first."

Javier took a step forward—toward Konrad—until his chest came up against the muzzle of the gun. Konrad studied his face, eyes wide and a little stricken by the ultimatum. For several seconds, Javier didn't think either one of them so much as drew a breath. With the barrel pressed against his sternum, Javier felt Konrad hesitate. And Javier had to wonder if, somehow, Kevin was in there fighting this, because that confused expression from before crossed Konrad's face again.

Slowly, Konrad lowered his gun.

"Then come with me," Konrad said finally.

And, suddenly, everything fell into place.

"Chaperone," Javier managed dully, remembering the note. The word was a toneless mumble stripped of any expression by his surprise.

"Sure, whatever," Konrad said with a confused blink, possibly interpreting it as a question. "What do you say?"

And Javier could have probably said a lot of things, but all that he could manage at first was an odd, strangled laugh. Because no matter how he chose to look at this new option, it was impossible for him to feel like he actually had a choice.