Chapter Twenty-Seven

His Princess was dying.

Kevin was glued to a chair in the waiting room, his hands still stained red with her blood. With every other breath, he saw the blood spreading out across her abdomen. He saw her face go ashen as she collapsed backward into Javi. He heard her frantic murmuring about the recording device underneath the desk. "We got him," she'd whispered as she bled out in front of him, as he held pressure on that hole that had been torn through her. "He confessed." She had to have been in pain, but blood painted her triumphant smile just before her eyes lost focus, before she went limp in Javi's arms.

He drew in ragged breath, his red eyes locked on the doors to the emergency room waiting area. Once upon a time, he'd thought not telling her about Jenny was the worst mistake he'd ever made with her. But that petty bullshit paled in comparison to seeing her broken and bruised, it was nothing compared to watching Moreno's bullet tear through her flesh and knowing it was his fault.

He hadn't protected her. He should have protected her. She never should have even been in that office. None of this should have ever happened.

"Here." A styrofoam cup was held out in front of him as Javi watched him wearily. Kevin took the cup, but didn't drink it. The warmth seeped into his cold hand, smearing blood across the white surface.

Javi took a seat next to him, looking more haunted than Kevin had ever seen him. "Beckett called Alexis' dad. He's on his way."

"Okay."

Silence settled in between the two men. The last time they'd spoken alone, Javier had punched him in the face. They'd said things to each other that they'd never be able to take back, placed blame on each other's shoulders in an effort to avoid their own guilt.

"You were right," Javier said suddenly. "I should have protected her. I should have . . ." his voice shook. "She never should have taken that bullet for me."

"It's not your fault," Kevin said automatically, ignoring the way his alter ego called him a liar. His assignment was over, but Fenton had never been closer, and the darker side of Kevin wanted blood. Moreno's. Javier's. Even Kevin's. Anyone would do. Fenton wanted to bleed the world dry until its penance had been paid. Nothing less than Kevin's years of control in stressful experiences had kept his alter ego from murdering Moreno with his bare hands. Kate's timely entrance on the scene had probably helped, too. Fenton had never truly known fury until he'd been a bystander to that bullet tearing through Alexis' body.

"That's a nice thing to say, bro, but I think we both know that's not true."

Kevin just looked down at the bloodstained coffee cup, then back up at the door. Willing it to open. Willing the trauma surgeon to come through and tell them that Alexis had made it through surgery. That she was going to survive.

Fenton might be happy blaming Javier, but Kevin knew the man wasn't to blame. Javier hadn't been the one spending nights with her for months. Javier hadn't been the one who'd caught her playing where she shouldn't and who, instead of sending her away, had pulled her even deeper into a dangerous situation. Javier sure as shit wasn't the one who'd sent her away when she'd come to him for help, for safety.

The door swung open, and Kevin was on his feet in a moment, disappointment knocking the air out of him when, instead of the trauma surgeon, his eyes landed on Alexiis' father. He was pale, his eyes wide as they danced around the room, skipping from him to Javier and back to him. "Kevin?"

For a moment, Kevin was stunned into silence. He was still in his Fenton O'Connell getup, glasses, contacts, three-piece suit and all. And yet Rick Castle of all people, who he hadn't seen in well over a year, had made him almost instantly. He blew out a breath. "Hi, Rick."

"What are you doing here? What happened? Where is she?" Rick demanded. "Is she—"

"Alexis is alive," Javier said, standing up. "She's in surgery now."

"What happened?" Rick repeated. "I get a call from Detective Beckett that she's missing, and then a few hours later I get another call that she's been shot and she's in the hospital?" His voice rose with each word. "What the hell happened to my daughter?"

"She was taken by a drug kingpin whose operation she'd been threatening," Javier said, his words the grossest understatement of the actual situation that Kevin could have imagined. "And when we found her, when we took down the kingpin… well, he didn't go quietly, and she took a bullet for me. We were there to save her, and she ended up saving me." Javier swallowed. "She's a hero. We got her medical attention as soon as we could—"

"Sounds like you did a bang-up job, Detective Esposito." Rick all but collapsed into one of the tiny waiting room chairs. His eyes landed on Kevin again, who was still standing, silent as he could feel his control fraying every moment he was stuck in that tiny room. "What do you have to do with this? I thought you moved away."

Kevin couldn't tell if the accusation in Rick's voice was imagined or not. The last time he and Alexis' father had been in the same room together, he and Alexis had been hosting him for dinner in their apartment. It felt like another lifetime when the writer had looked at Kevin with the cordial respect one might expect a father to have for his daughter's boyfriend. That certainly wasn't the way Rick was looking at him right now, and Kevin became very aware of the fact that he still had Alexis' blood on his hands. Kevin blew out a breath, feeling himself bristle under the man's scrutiny, feeling the criminal on his shoulder demand to know what the hell kind of father couldn't be bothered to keep tabs on his daughter's whereabouts.

"I've been working an undercover job. I never left New York. Alexi . . ." his voice caught on her name, and he watched Rick's face twist in confusion. How could he even hope to explain it all to her father of all people? He shifted the cup back in forth in his hands, and he watched Rick's gaze freeze on his bloodstained hands.

Rick's face paled, and he dragged in a ragged breath. "Oh my god." His blue gaze, so similar to Alexis' begged for answers that Kevin couldn't give. Because it was then that Kevin realized that all the answers in the world wouldn't change the fact that this man's daughter was somewhere in this hospital, fighting for her life. And the one answer that Rick truly wanted, whether or not his daughter would survive, Kevin couldn't give him.

Kevin pushed through the swinging doors to the waiting room. He tossed the cup into the nearest wastebasket, looking left and right for a bathroom. He heard Javier call his name as he stumbled down the hallway and swung open the door to the men's room. From there, he hunched in front of the sink, scrubbing at his skin with soap and the blunt edges of his fingernails, the water hot enough to turn his hands a new shade of red all their own. In the back of mind, Fenton whispered plans for retribution. Going to the precinct, getting the keys to Moreno's holding cell, and getting his hands bloody again. Making him pay for ever thinking he could touch her, for ever thinking he could hold her life in his hands and walk away.

Kevin gripped the edges of the sink as steam rose around him. He gritted his teeth against the panic and emotion threatening to smother him. This was why he'd created Fenton in the first place: to protect himself from feeling like this. To protect the people he cared about from getting caught up his dangerous job. How the hell had he ended up here? Falling to pieces while the woman he loved fought for her life?

He'd screwed up. He'd been wrong from the beginning, from the moment he'd run into Jenny in that bar, and every moment after it. He could see it all laid out in front of him, as clear as day. He'd loved Jenny, and when she'd broken him, he hadn't been able to cope. So he'd tried to protect himself. He'd been cold and closed his heart off. And despite that, he'd still fallen for Alexis, and she for him. And they'd been so happy. She'd been so perfect for him. And when he'd fucked that up and she'd made her own mistakes, he'd pushed her away. He couldn't cope with the pain then, either. Instead of trying to work it out, he'd buried himself in work. He'd created Fenton O'Connell, a man who couldn't feel, set him up to take down an elaborate drug cartel, and he'd spent a year letting him take the wheel.

But Fenton could feel. Alexis had taught him that lesson the hard way. And instead of telling her the truth, instead of making sure she stayed away, he'd kept hiding behind Fenton. He'd let her get involved. He'd let her be in Moreno's sights. And for what? So he could touch her again? So he could feel like he was involved with even one tiny sliver of her life? Because he'd never stopped loving her, but he couldn't stop hiding from his heartache, either?

He never could learn from his mistakes could he?

Kevin wiped aside the condensation on the mirror, staring back at the strange caricature he'd become. He didn't recognize himself in the black-framed glasses, or the brown contact lenses. He didn't see himself in the man in front of him, the way the stubble wrapped around his mouth, the wild mess of his hair, or the expensive suit. It was the fear and horror in his eyes that told Kevin he was staring at a reflection. It was the slump of his shoulders, the slight tremble in his lips. He was the same man he'd always been, Fenton or not, stupid fucking glasses or not. And he couldn't hide the truth any longer.

He wrenched the glasses off his face and pitched them across the bathroom. Then he removed the contact lenses with shaking hands and used water to slick his hair back into something resembling order. And then he loosened the tie and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal the tattoo on his chest. His fingers pressed against the black ink that coiled over his heart.

He'd gotten it shortly after starting the assignment, when months had passed and he still missed Alexis. When he had enough distance from their breakup to understand his own role. He couldn't do anything about that regret while he was in the middle of an assignment, but he'd gotten the tattoo so he'd never forget his own role in the way his life had changed.

That tattoo had always been his, not Fenton's. It was a reminder of the mistakes he'd made, the lies he'd told, the truths he'd omitted, and the way he'd hid when things got hard. It told him to do better. To use his spine as well as his heart. To be a better man.

Staring at the reflection of the tattoo, at the blue eyes that stared back at him in the mirror, he felt his heartbeat slowing. He felt that skin-deep fury begin to recede. And Kevin took deep breaths as he found something resembling control for the first time in far too long.

It was time for him to make a decision. If Alexis made it out, he needed to show her that he wasn't going to run or hide anymore. No more excuses. No more Fenton O'Connell.

It was time to see what Kevin Ryan was really made of.

By the time Kevin had composed himself enough to return to the waiting room, an older redhead had joined Rick in their vigil. Kevin recognized her as Alexis' grandmother, Martha Rodgers. They locked eyes briefly and Kevin gave her a brief nod of recognition. Confusion spread across her face the same way her son's had.

"Hey." Javier gestured back out into the hallway, and the two detectives stepped out.

"Any news?" Kevin asked.

"Nothing. They must still be working on her." Javier's eyes slid down the hallway to the swinging doors that the trauma surgeon has disappeared behind before jumping back to Kevin's face. "Beckett called. She's got Moreno in interrogation. He's asking for you."

Kevin's blood ran cold. "What?"

"He's not speaking to her. He only wants to talk to you. She and your boss are working on getting the audio feed from the club to use as evidence, but Alexis was the one accessing the feed. She's worried he's going to lawyer up before she can do much."

"Shit."

"You're the one who's worked with him for the past year," Javier said. "This is more in your wheelhouse right?"

Kevn blew out a breath. Already he was being pulled away from Alexis. "Yeah."

"Nobody would blame you for wanting to stay here, Kev," Javier tried.

He shook his head. "We can't let Moreno get a head start. I'll head right over. Call me when you have news."

"I promise."

Kevin glanced back at the double doors, willing himself to move in the opposite direction. Away from Alexis, toward the case that just couldn't seem to end. It was time to clean up the mess he and Alexis had made, once and for all.

"Mr. O'Connell, you're looking a little . . . off," Moreno said when Kevin entered the interrogation room and sat in front of the drug lord. "Did you lose your glasses on the way over?"

Kevin didn't grace the comment with a response. After leaving the hospital, he'd stopped at the apartment to change into clothes that weren't stained with Alexis' blood and then went directly to the precinct. He was going on thirty hours without sleep and, staring at the man who had put a bullet through Alexis and had killed who knows how many other people, Kevin knew relief was still far off.

"Let's cut to the chase here," Kevin said. "You confessed to the murder of Amelia Parry on a voice recording, you assaulted and attempted the murder of an NYPD officer, you're accused of at least one other murder, and I have seen you supply cocaine through the streets of Manhattan for a year. And those are just your greatest hits. I have the names of dealers within your organization who will turn on you in half a second to save their own asses. You're going away for a long time, no matter what kind of lawyer all your blood money can buy. And I couldn't care less whether you talk to me or you talk to Detective Beckett, because either way you're never walking free again. So say whatever the hell it is you want to say."

Moreno gave no indication that Kevin's words had bothered him. "And how is our damsel in distress? She got a tag on her toe yet?"

Kevin's fingers twitched, and he just barely held back the desire to reach across the table and break the man's neck with his bare hands. He cleared his throat. "She's fine. Gonna make a full recovery." His mouth twisted just a little bit on the bitter lie.

"Is that so? I guess I should have made a stronger impression."

"What do you want?"

The man paused, then smirked. "I wanted to know if you were prepared to tell the truth about your behavior over the past year. You haven't exactly been a choir boy. I wonder what the NYPD would think about you two fucking each other on the job."

"Are you blackmailing me?"

"Merely reminding you that intel goes two ways."

"Nothing is worth you getting out of this Moreno. Not my job, and not hers." After the sacrifice Alexis had made, Kevin would make sure Moreno got exactly what he deserved. "Now, are you ready to talk about your involvement with Umbra's drug scene or the murder of Amelia Parry or Hector Johnson?" he asked.

Moreno smirked and folded his arms across his chest. Silence settled in between the two men, and Kevin blew out a breath. "Fine. We're done here." His chair slid back and he returned to observation where Kate was waiting. "It suits him to be such a pain in the ass even now that we hold all the cards."

"Like you said, he's going away for a long time," Beckett said. "I was hoping to get this one closed fast. Thanks for trying. I know there's somewhere else you'd rather be right now."

"Sure."

"Was that true? What he said about you and Alexis?"

Kevin nodded. "More or less."

Beckett's eyebrows rose. "Does your handler know about that?"

"Unfortunately."

"That's what you and Espo were fighting about, wasn't it?"

Kevin's gaze shifted back to the man in interrogation. "I take full responsibility. Alexis has enough to deal with right now. Don't punish her for this."

Beckett shrugged. "She was off the clock, technically. And the things she was doing with you are currently the least of my worries." She glanced at Moreno before meeting his eyes. "I can't have a detective with a death wish running around Manhattan. It's not safe for her partner. It's not good for this department, or the city."

Kevin sighed. He couldn't disagree, much as he wanted to defend Alexis' actions. "But in the end, she caught the man responsible for at least two deaths and helped me finish my narcotics assignment."

Her eyes narrowed. "She got lucky. If he'd taken her anywhere else, she'd be dead now and he'd be walking free."

He thought of the bruises and blood painting her skin, the shallow rise and fall of her chest and her screams of pain. "Lucky isn't the word I'd use."

"Can't argue with that." She sighed. "I think we're done for now. Go back to the hospital. And keep me updated."

He nodded. "Thanks, Beckett." He checked his phone on the way to the elevator, and his stomach plummeted when he realized it was dead. What if Javi had tried to call? What if something had happened? What if she hadn't—

No. Kevin blew out a breath. If Alexis hadn't made it off the table, Javi would have called Beckett, too. He threw the car in gear and peeled out of the parking garage anyway. He wasn't going to leave her again.

When Kevin made his way into the emergency room, he was shocked to find the waiting room empty. Worst case scenarios filled his mind and he stopped the first nurse passing by. "Is Alexis Castle still in surgery?"

The nurse blinked at him. "Who?"

Kevin explained the situation and was eventually directed upstairs to the intensive care unit. He rushed through the maze of rooms and hallways and nurses stations until he saw a familiar face.

Espo sat outside the room, his face in his hands. Kevin couldn't tell if he was sleeping or crying. "Hey."

His former partner lifted his head. His eyes were rimmed in red and looked sunken with exhaustion.

"She made it out?" Kevin asked.

"You didn't get my message?"

"My phone's dead. Javi, did she make it out?"

Javi modded. "She survived surgery. But—" Kevin was already on the way in. "Hold on. There's something I need to tell you before you barge in there."

"What is it?"

"She's not in good shape, man. You need to prepare yourself—"

"What are you talking about? She made it through the surgery, didn't she?"

"And the doctor said the next test will be making it through the week."

All of the frenetic energy humming through his body came to a shuddering halt. Kevin's eyes locked onto Javier's, and he saw the heavy truth in his friend's face. He opened his mouth, but couldn't bring himself to speak. His eyes skittered over to the closed door to Alexis' room, then back to Javier. "I-I don't understand. She made it through surgery." He sounded like a broken record.

Javier took his arm and tugged him down into one of the seats just outside the door. "The surgeon gave us the full report: the bullet hit her liver. They were able to remove it and repair the damage. And fortunately, her liver will heal completely in time. But that bastard also broke her arm, fractured her eye socket, cut her up like a piece of meat, and they're still trying to determine the extent of the brain damage from all the head trauma." He blew out a breath. "It's not pretty. She's not okay, Ryan. I just wanted you to know that before you walked in there expecting some kind of happy ending."

For half a second, Kevin was tempted to correct his friend. For a long time he'd known better than to expect a happy ending. That wasn't in the cards. Not for him. Except, he had been expecting one. Hoping for one. An end to the madness. A moment of relief. But he'd been an idiot to even hope for that much. "Okay."

With a deep breath, Kevin stood up and walked to the door, pausing just for a moment before gently pushing the door open. Javi's words hadn't adequately prepared him for the sight of Alexis in the hospital bed. Bandages were wrapped around her skull and covered her left eye. Her right arm was in a cast, and her other arm had more tubes going into it than he knew what to do with. Her skin was deathly pale in the few places she wasn't bruised or swollen. He watched the cadence of the heart monitor, watched the shallow rise and fall of her chest as oxygen was pumped through the intubation tube protruding from her mouth. "Jesus Christ," he whispered.

Her father was seated next to the hospital bed, holding her hand in his own. Their eyes met for a moment before Rick's gaze slid back to his daughter. Kevin figured that was as much of an invitation as he was going to get. He slid his jacket off his shoulders and took a seat in the corner of the room. Javier joined him soon thereafter, and Kevin watched him bow his head, murmuring something that sounded very much like a prayer.

It had been too long since he'd seen the inside of a church for him to attempt any kind of leverage with the man upstairs, and Kevin wasn't sure he believed that any sort of creator existed in the first place. But the love he had for Alexis was real. So he held onto that tangible thing, that ache in his gut and emptiness inside of him, and he said his own kind of prayer to anyone to who might be listening.

Author's Note: A million thanks to ramennoodlebug, who always gives the best reviews. :)

Thanks for reading, please review!