He was in bed when the hospital phoned and despite the shrill ring Jenny hasn't so much as stirred. When he heard the news Javier was in hospital, he had gotten up and pulled on whatever he could find, clean or not, he didn't care.
The car ride over was a blur. Red lights turned green, horns barked out sharp yelps, and the engine purred peacefully. Smoke burned his lungs, and the overpowering smell of gasoline in the parking garage overpowered his senses. He barely even realized he was on the right floor when the elevator doors squeaked open.
He couldn't help but blame himself. If his heart hadn't been so stupid, and his brain so logical, this would never have happened. Javier would have been with him, probably in the middle of alcohol induced sex, but with him, not in some hospital room.
A nurse at the front desk told Kevin where his partner was staying and he hesitantly began the journey to the door. The corridor was silent and the only sound that could be heard was his heavy footprints on the vinyl flooring and the deep thud of his heart beating against his rib cage.
Reaching the door, he leant against the wall, mind struggling to unscramble his thoughts. Guilt, so much guilt. He didn't want to go in but it was as if some force of nature was pulling him there. Mentally he wasn't prepared. He wasn't prepared for the overwhelming emotions that would sweep over him, or the emotional turmoil it would resurrect. He just couldn't do it, but some force deep within him was pulling him there.
There was a part of him that knew he would be okay. It was like a sixth sense he had. Javier had laughed when Kevin had brought it up one night in the Old Haunt and he remembered laughing to. Those were the good times, when neither of the two partners had feelings towards each other.
When every handshake was just a handshake and not an excuse for any type of physical contact. When those inches too close were because there was no other way, not because they enjoyed the heat of the other radiating onto equally heated skin. When those nights of drinking had no reasons why and didn't end up with too many close calls. When they were just bro's. When everything was simple, before Jenny, Lanie and the realization of the blasted sexual tension.
Gathering his thought and gathering a deep breath, he pushed open the door. The smell of sickness and hand sanitizer washed over him and with it a new wave of guilt. Hooked up to the machines was Javier, his Javier. He was too pale, much too similar to Ryan than the Latinos normal complexion. Hooked up to him were tubes and an oxygen tank was somewhere nearby. The only sounds available were his partner's slow breathing and the calming rhythm of the heart monitor. Relief washed over him. The only major injury he could see was a bandage on his upper cheek, stark white against Esposito's tanned skin. He may have injured his partner, but he didn't kill him.
He walked over to one of those uncomfortable, plastic chairs and pulled it over to Esposito's bed. The bottom of the chair scraped lightly against the worn out floor, not enough to disturb Javier but enough to get on Kevin's nerves. He sat down, moving the chair half an inch closer successfully wedging him between the bed and the hard plastic.
For the first time that night he allowed himself to relax. All the stress from the incident seemed to melt away. Without hesitation he grabbed his partner's hand, gently running his thumb over the smooth skin. He rested his head on his other hand, just beside Javier's. The heat radiating off of his partner felt comforting and for the first time in a while he allowed himself to sleep.
He would wake up tomorrow and he would be home, and at work he and Javier would return to being friends. Yeah, this was just a really bad dream. He tried desperately to convince himself of that but deep down he knew it wasn't true. What he had done, or hadn't done, would never be forgotten, or forgiven. He couldn't forget this and he sure as hell couldn't forget the guilt.
His mind returned to what the nurse had told him. He was hit by a vehicle coming in from the left. He could almost visualize his partner's reaction. No matter how much he tried to forget, he couldn't. Esposito shouldn't have been so distracted but he was, and Ryan knew it was all his fault. If he had just kissed back, forgot about stupid logic and kissed his partner back, than Esposito would be okay. He wouldn't have left the house, and he sure as hell wouldn't have been so out of it.
The problem was he couldn't take it back not now not ever, but hopefully in time he would be able to make it up to him.