You guys should feel loved. I stayed up until 1:30 to write this for you. Now make me feel loved, and review. ;) If I didn't answer to your review in the last chapter, I'm sorry. I still love you. But my email was being wacky, so it wouldn't let me reply. It'
I don't know why, but I really love this chapter. It's probably going to be in my top three with this story. Anyways, here's the next chapter, up within a few days.
Ch. 3
In which Kevin hates needles.
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Alexa's apartment complex was a nice one, I decided as soon as Javier parked his car.
"You think she's another trust fund baby?" Javier asked.
"Probably," I replied. "It would make sense if she was such good friends with Kaci." We entered the building and walked towards the elevator, where a large group of old ladies were waiting.
"Oh, you boys can go on in," one of them said. "We're only going up to the second floor." Javier and I traded uncomfortable looks before shuffling into the elevator.
"There's not gonna be enough room, man," I whispered to my partner as we stood next to each other. As if to prove my point, one of the old ladies bumped into me as she was trying to make room for her companions. I stumbled, and Javier grabbed me around the waist and hauled me bodily against his chest. Well this was awkward.
"Sorry, thanks," I muttered, trying to pull away, but found that as I tried to back up, I pushed up against the old lady behind me. I sighed, resigned to my face being pressed into Javier's neck and my arms squashed in-between our chest. Why was this elevator moving so damn slow? Every time I inhaled, I smelled a bit of Javier. It was a slightly intoxicating scent of vanilla and cinnamon. I shook my head mentally. What was I thinking? Javier did not smell good. And I most certainly was not sniffing his neck surreptitiously.
"It's so nice to see a young couple as close as you two are," one of the old ladies said. I couldn't tell which one, as the lady behind me was currently pressing me even closer to Javier, forcing him to wrap his arms around my back once more just to keep me from being too crushed.
"Oh, we're not-" Javier started, but the same old lady cut him off.
"It's okay, sweetie, we won't judge you," she said. "Madge and Charlotte here have been partners for 42 years." I snorted quietly in amusement and shifted slightly, trying to get my aching wrists out from between mine and Javier's chest.
"What are you doing?" He murmured into my ear. I jumped at the brush of air against the side of my face and stopped shifting.
"My wrists hurt," I muttered back. Javier made a noise in his throat, and slipped his hands up to my shoulders. "Wh-what are you doing?" I asked nervously.
"I'm turning us around so you can move your wrist."
"Oh." He slowly shifted us around so that I was in the corner, and I could remove my hands from between us. "Thanks." I smiled up at him and he grinned down at me.
"No problem, bro."
"Why is this elevator not moving?" One of the ladies asked. I looked over. It was the one that had been squashing me.
"You forgot to press the button, Madge." That would explain why we were in here for such a long time.
"Oh," The lady who was closest to the buttons pressed floor two. "And what floor are you two boys getting off on?" She called back to us. I started and struggled to reach into my borrowed jacket for the slip of paper.
"Floor 8," I said when I had fished the paper out. Madge pressed the button, and I finally felt the elevator lurch and move upwards. When the elevator beeped at floor 2, all the ladies got off and I moved away from Javier wish a relieved sigh.
"Here, bro, let me see your wrists." Javier held out his hands and I placed mine in his. He pushed the sleeve of the jacket up, and rubbed a thumb across my bandaged wrist. "It's bleeding again," he murmured. I slowly pulled my hand back and pushed the sleeve of the jacket back down.
"I can deal with it when we're done here," I told him. "It'll be fine." His lips tightened worriedly, but I could tell that he wasn't going to argue with me about it. There was nothing I could do about it now, anyways. The elevator chimed and I glanced up. Our floor.
"Come on," I said, grabbing Javier's sleeve and pulling him out of the elevator with me.
"What was the room number, again?" He asked. I glanced down at the paper in my hand before shoving it back into a pocket.
"803," I told him. Three doors down from the elevator, as it turned out.
"Mrs. Volkoff?" Javier knocked on the door.
"NYPD. Open up, please." There was a tinkle of broken glass and a really high pitched scream that was abruptly cut off from behind the door. Javier and I exchanged a look and he kicked open the door, the both of us pulling out our guns.
"FREEZE, NYPD!" Javier shouted. Inside the apartment, there was a man in a mask holding a gun over a woman's prone form. It looked as if he had smashed her upside the head with something. When the man saw us come in, he raised the gun up to us.
"Put down the gun!" Javier shouted at the same time I did. The sound of two guns being cocked behind me made us both freeze.
"I do think that it should be you who puts down the gun, Detectives," the man in the mask said with a faint accent that I couldn't quite place. "Or my friends will be forced to put a few holes in Detective Ryan, and I will put one in Detective Esposito's head."
"How do you know who we are?" I asked, trying to buy us some time. The man shook his head.
"That will not work on me," he said. "Now put your guns down and raise your hands above your head or I will put a bullet in Ryan's knee." Immediately, Espo dropped his gun to the floor, and I followed suit, albeit a bit more slowly, and we both raised our hands.
"Move," One of the men behind me grunted, shoving me with one hand while holding his gun against my head with the other. I stumbled forward and walked until the man jerked me to a stop and ordered me to turn around and stand next to the masked man.
"What are you doing?" Javier asked nervously, face a study in panic. The man behind me chuckled.
"There's a price on your friend," he said. "We're gonna deliver him to someone, and if you cooperate, he may get there alive and in mostly one piece."
"You'll never get away with it," I told the masked man conversationally. "The police will find you." Javier's eyes pleaded with me to shut up, but I didn't pay him any mind. Unfortunately, I should have listened. My head jerked to the side as I felt the butt of a gun slam into my jaw. I groaned and clutched at the spot, my jaw throbbing. Well, that's going to leave a bruise, I thought through the haze of pain.
"Look, just leave him alone." Javier's voice cut through the haze. "If you walk away now, I won't tell anyone you were here, alright?" The masked man laughed. It was a harsh, uneven sound. Almost as if he didn't do it often enough.
"Not likely, Detective," he said. What was it about that accent that seemed so familiar? I let Javi and the man argue for a bit while I mulled it over. It reminded me a bit of grandma… That was it!
"You're Irish. You're with the Irish mafia,' I interrupted the masked man. Everyone in the room froze and stared at me.
"You know that how?" He asked. It was understandable. His accent was very faint. But with someone who had grown up surrounded by Irishmen and women, it was almost impossible to mistake.
"My family's Irish, dick wad." Another smash with the butt of the gun and I fell to my knees in pain, clutching my now bleeding face.
"FREEZE! NYPD! WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED!" Beckett. The most blessed voice I had ever heard. I listened for the clatter of the men's guns and lifted my head up to watch them raise their hands above their heads.
"Do not think you are safe, Kevin Ryan," The masked man growled at me as Javier rushed to our side of the room along with Beckett and six other uniforms. "There are others after you. You will never be safe as long as you have a price on you." Javier heard that last bit and scowled at the man.
"You keep on thinking that, pendejo," he growled back as Beckett ripped the mans mask off and put him in cuffs.
"You alright, bro?" He turned his attention to me, gently prodding at my cheek.
"Yeah," I mutter. "Hur's t' talk. Bu' nothin's broke." He wiped at the blood running down my face.
"Looks like you're gonna need stitches." I groaned and turned my face away. I hated needles. I heard Javier chuckle a bit and then he patted my head as if I were a small child. "I know you don't like it, but we can't have you bleeding out on us every time you open your mouth. Now, c'mon." He stood up and hooked his hands under my elbows, pulling me up with him.
"I'm taking Ryan to the hospital," he told Beckett. She nodded at him without pausing in her reading of the Miranda rights to all three men.
"I don' nee' ta go ta t' hos'ital." Espo shushed me and pulled me out of the apartment. "Wha' a'out t' 'irl?" Espo glanced at me, trying to figure out what I was saying.
"The girl?" I nodded. "I'm sure Beckett'll take care of her," he said exasperatedly, pulling me down the hall. "Now let me take care of you." I breathed out through my nose, since huffing would hurt, and let him guide me down to the car.
"Hold this to the cut." Javier handed me a bunch of tissues as soon as the car doors were shut. I pressed it tenderly to my face.
"I t'ink yer shir's ruined," I told him. He shrugged without taking his eyes off the road.
"It's fine. I never wear it, anyways." I took off the jacket, though, just to make sure that didn't get ruined as well. "You're going to get cold," he said, watching me out of the corner of his eye.
"'M fine." Javier sighed and cranked up the heat. The rest of the trip was made in silence.
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"Kee' tha' thing away fro' 'e." I moved to the far side of the hospital room as the syringe bearing nurse made her way over to jab at my jaw.
"Mr. Ryan, it is vital that we numb your jaw before stitching it, especially since it's bruised!" The nurse made another lunge for me and I dodged.
"I HA'E nee'les!" I cried. "Can' you 'ust glue I' 'ogether, or somethin'?" The harried nurse looked over to Javier for help. I glared at him, daring to contradict me.
"Kev," he sighed from his position on one of the two chairs next to the bed. "Please just let her." I raised an eyebrow and shook my head. Did he really think that would work? He stood up and I watched nervously as he walked around behind me.
"Wha' are you doin'?" I asked, suspicion evident in my voice. When he didn't answer, I started to turn around until he wrapped a steel arm around my middle, trapping my arms to my sides.
"Relax," he murmured into my ear as the nurse approached with her needle. I shook my head and struggled against his arm, to no avail. He reached up with his other hand and clamped down on my forehead, pulling my head back against his shoulder, and holding it there.
"Nononononononononononono," I moaned, my pain forgotten as the nurse reached for my mouth to hold it shut as she inserted the syringe into my jaw. I let out a whimper, shaking as the nurse withdrew, only to come back with a larger needle, this one attached to thread.
"Javi, please." I felt him chuckle behind me.
"Relax," he said. "You won't even feel it."
He was wrong, in a way. I did feel it, it just didn't hurt. Almost like a strange tugging sensation on my face. But I still hated it. There was a needle going through my skin.
As soon as the nurse was done, I jerked out of Javier's grip and collapsed into the chair. "I hate you," I told them both. Javier just ruffled my hair and sat down in the chair next to me. The nurse looked relieved that the ordeal was over.
"Doctor Bryant will be with you shortly," she told us. Javier smiled and nodded, and she left, still looking incredibly relieved.
"I've never seen a grown man so scared of needles," he teased. I glared at him. The bastard. Only he could have fun at my expense.
"You would too, if you had the experience that I did with them." Javier gave me an inquiring look and I sighed. "When I was 17, my appendix ruptured, so I had to go to the hospital. It took them seven tries to get the IV without my vein collapsing. And after the first three local anesthetics, the numbing agent stopped working. Do you know how much it hurts to have your vein collapse six times?" I demanded. He looked sheepish now.
"I'm sorry?" He offered meekly. I shook my head, already having forgiven him, but still wanting to make him feel bad for a while.The silence lasted until there was a knock on the door and the doctor walked in. He was a tall, thin, middle aged man with thinning black hair and dark brown eyes.
"Mr. Ryan?" He asked, looking at me. "You're x-rays show no signs of fracturing, so you're free to go home. Just make sure to be careful with your jaw. If your stitches pop, you'll need to come back in. And watch out for signs of infection." I nodded and took the sheet of paper he handed me labeled 'How to spot infection.' Genius, that was.
"Thank you, doctor," Javier said, standing up to shake his hand. I jumped up out of my seat and hurried to the door.
"Yes, thank you," I said quickly. "Come on, let's go." My last comment was addressed to Javier, who was taking an extremely long time to walk over to the door. I couldn't get out of the building fast enough. We had spent so long in the hospital that it was already dark. Beckett had called earlier to tell us to go home. We could discuss the incident in the morning.
"Kev, wait up, bro." Javier huffed up behind me.
"Sorry," I muttered. My jaw was starting to hurt again, and all I wanted to do was get back to Javier's place and fall asleep on his couch.
"You still wanna go by your place?" He asked once we were back in the car. I nodded. It would be nice to have some of my stuff. I leaned the unhurt side of my head against the window, and I must've fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, Javier was shaking me awake.
"We're here," he told me. "We're just gonna grab the basics then leave, alright? I don't wanna be here any longer than we've got to." I nodded, and we got out of the car. "Stay behind me," he muttered, pulling out his gun. I sighed at his overprotectiveness, but stayed behind him anyways. No sense in taking chances.
We were in and out in five minutes. All I packed were my toiletries, a few books, some extra money, and three changes of clothing. Javier didn't relax in the slightest until we were back in the car, where he let out a loud exhale and tucked his gun back into his shoulder holster.
"Let's go home," he said tiredly. I murmured my agreement as he started the car.
