black_sluggard (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
black_sluggard) wrote2011-10-07 01:26 am
black_sluggard) wrote2011-10-07 01:26 am
Entry tags:
(Fic) Black Edelweiss—Chapter Seven: The Other Shoe
Title: Black Edelweiss
Series: Zeitgeist
Follows: One Giant Leap
Wordcount: 2,493
Summary: Two weeks after Claire Bennet's televised leap from the Ferris wheel, the 12th handles it's first case delving into the strange world of specials. Evidence points the investigation toward a former Company Agent, a man Noah Bennet would swear up and down doesn't exist.
Details: Minimal details due to inflation. Full details in main post.
PREV: Chapter Six // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Eight
Chapter Seven: The Other Shoe
Feeling paranoid? Good: illumination is on the other side of absolute terror. And the only terror that is truly absolute is the horror of realizing that you can't believe anything you've ever been told.
—Robert Anton Wilson and Robert Shea, Illuminatus!
Javier had spent almost the entire trip back trying to find a way out of the conversation he had promised his partner. So far, his ideas had all fallen painfully short. The closer they got to their destination, the closer they were to that looming talk, and the more anxious he got. By the time they stepped out of the elevator at the precinct Javier didn't think he had ever been more nervous about a single thing in his life.
A part of him still held on to the fear that Kevin wouldn't believe him. That was an old fear, however. An obsolete fear, a throwback emotion to a world that used to make sense. Even if that sense had always been an illusion. No, Kevin would believe him. And, in so many ways, Javier thought that made it worse... Time travel or not, you did not tell a man who was happily engaged that you didn't think it was going to work out. You did not tell your best friend that you though you kind of ended up together. Not if you wanted to keep that friend.
His stomach was a roiling mess by the time they rejoined the others in the side office. How had he ever thought eating was a good idea?
Something about the atmosphere in the room struck him as wrong almost immediately. Quiet wasn't something Javier was used to walking in on when he and Kevin returned to the station. Kate and Castle were almost always arguing about something when they did, or else Kate was occupied with something important, leaving Castle to roam free. His curious and often restless nature usually meant the writer would find his own trouble somewhere, poking around at things he generally shouldn't.
And, as he took in the scene in front of him, the first wrong thing that Javier managed to put his finger on was Castle. Seeing the writer so still was just blatantly unnatural...
"Why is it so quiet in here?" Kevin asked, a concerned crease marring his features as he clearly picked up on the same thing.
As he spoke, every face turned to look at them. Castle and Kate both wore near-identical expressions of surprise, though there was an odd wariness, too, that Javier didn't quite know how to read. Bennet's face was almost entirely blank. A glance at Tracy saw her raise an eyebrow, but even that yielded no response from him. In the corner a small Asian man that Javier didn't recognize stood up straight, staring with some confusing emotion that his mind could only manage to interpret as wonder.
"We found a photograph of Reichardt," Kate told them after a long moment, her voice holding an odd, careful tone Javier thought he had heard her use more than once.
Usually when breaking terrible news to the families of victims.
Javier's heart had started to pound before he even made that connection, as if some more primitive portion of his brain were already several steps ahead of him, crying out a warning. And, as Kate slid the photograph across the table for them to see, the warning Javier thought he heard, echoing vainly in the back of his mind, was look away.
The photo was obviously very old, its black and white image stained a dull yellow with age. The words "Auschwitz, 1944" had been scrawled across the border in faded black ink. In the picture, two men posed side by side, both dressed in uniform. Though the image was small and somewhat faded, and the background somewhat difficult to discern, the foreground was still sharp and even the small detail of their insignia was easily recognizable. Of the two men, one was slender and obviously light haired, directing a bright smile toward the camera. The second man was younger, possibly in his early twenties. His expression was far more subdued, the smile fragile and a little forced. Seeing him, Javier's breath stalled in his throat...
There was a stuttering moment where his mind refused to believe what his eyes were telling him. A moment where he tried to attribute the recognition to a trick of the light or some other mistake. But nothing he came up with ultimately altered what he saw. Impossibly, if not for the photograph's obvious age and the twisted scar marring that second man's face―and every other detail of the image, grotesquely and unforgivably wrong―Javier would have sworn to anyone that he was looking at a picture of his partner.
Javier turned to look at him, finding Kevin just as shocked as he was. More. Kevin's eyes were locked on the photograph in front of them, disbelieving, mouth hanging open slightly. He shook his head faintly, lips moving without sound as he wrestled to find his voice.
"How...?" Kevin finally managed, breathless as the words stumbled over each other. "I don't― Just...how?"
Kate watched his face very carefully. Taking in his confusion, her expression softened.
"Ryan," she asked, her voice even, quiet, calm, like she was afraid to spook him, "is it possible that you and Reichardt are related?"
It took so long for Kevin to respond that for a moment Javier wondered if he had even heard the question. His forehead creased briefly, followed by a series of rapid blinks before he shook his head.
"I don't see how...” He trailed off, wetting his lips. "I took after my mom. She took after her dad, and he never looked that much like me."
Kevin's voice was oddly distant. Or perhaps it simply sounded that way.
For Javier, their conversation fell into the background as he found himself looking at the photograph once again, eyes lingering on a single, bizarre detail. Suddenly, pieces of the future that had been shapeless in their mystery began to make a surreal sort of sense… The way the intervening years had left his partner almost untouched. The endearment Kevin had spoken, only half-remembered. The uncharacteristic bitterness Javier had heard in Kevin’s voice when DiNozzo mentioned Reichardt’s name...
His stomach gave a sick lurch as Javier finally understood why his future self hadn’t bothered to give him any information on this case, despite what it might mean for Kevin. If what he suspected were true, it would have been beyond Javier's power to change. The only impact he could have on the situation now hinged on his decision to speak or to stay silent, and in spite of the damage it would cause Javier knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. On the heels of that realization Javier finally understood the words his partner had spoken in that strange vision months ago—what Kevin would remember about this day years from now. An interpretation of his words that Javier had never imagined might be true...
Reichardt wasn't the one poised to destroy Kevin's life. Javier was.
"Kev..." Javier's throat was dry, tight, the sound of his voice so odd to his own ears that it could almost have belonged to someone else. "This looks like your handwriting."
And it did. It wasn't identical, but then one could hardly have expected it to be, not after so many years. But Javier looked at his partner's chicken scratch every day. After all their time working together, Javier could practically read it in his sleep―less of an exaggeration than most would believe, as more than one sleep-walking session through a rough case had proven. Javier knew those jagged flourishes, those sloped ones and goofy nines―and he knew he wasn't wrong.
At first Kevin only stared at the image, shaking his head silently―though Javier noticed that he didn't deny the observation―before he woke out of his daze with a harsh blink.
"That's not me," Kevin said, voice flat, like whatever he was feeling hadn't yet caught up with what Javier's words implied. He took a step back from the photo, eyes pulled away from it with a sharp jerk of his head. "It's not me."
His gaze only fled as far as Javier's face. Javier didn't even know what his own eyes might have shown. Whatever it was couldn't have been pleasant, because the expression that soon answered it―confusion, hurt, betrayal―was painful to see.
"Javi... This is― I don't know what this is. A trick, or...something," Kevin argued, desperately, gesturing loosely toward the picture he was still so carefully trying not to look at. "You really can't think that's me?"
Javier had almost forgotten there was anyone else involved in this until Bennet made a soft noise in his throat. As quiet as it was, it drew Javier's attention sharply. The expression on the older man's face was thoughtful.
"The Company files should contain both fingerprint and DNA profiles," Bennet ventured evenly. "We can try to make a comparison."
Though it was a logical enough response to such an illogical situation, apparently, for Kevin, it was just too much. When Bennet moved toward the door Kevin's eyes flew wide, and Javier watched his partner's anxiety slip into outright panic―only seconds too late to realize that Kevin had drawn his gun.
"Don't..." Kevin said. His voice and his hand both shook.
The focus of the entire room narrowed precariously upon his partner. Kate stood rigidly, her hand resting on her gun as she watched Kevin and Bennet both. She didn't draw, and Javier saw the uncertainty dancing in her eyes. Tracy's pose held a similar alertness. Though Javier didn't think she was armed, her hands hung ready at her sides, and while the room was warm her breath misted faintly. Castle's expression was one of helpless alarm, and the strange man had shrunk back into his corner, eyes lit almost comically with horror. Bennet for his part had halted, raising his hands level with his shoulders. Despite the gun aimed his way and the visible desperation of the man aiming it, he seemed unusually calm. Javier saw Bennet's glance cast briefly his way, as though curious to see his response.
As though Bennet saw as well as he did that the safe resolution of the stand off rested solely in Javier's hands.
"Kev." As he moved slowly in front of the gun, Javier tried not to think about Bennet standing behind him. "We'll figure this out, Kev, but right now you're making Castle nervous. C'mon. Give me the gun."
Kevin's eyes darted to Castle and Kate, taking in their tense postures, and Javier saw his partner hesitate, forehead knotting fretfully. When his attention returned Javier let his eyes dip briefly to the gun, lifting his eyebrows faintly. Kevin nodded, breathing a little ragged as he lowed the gun, turning the handle out toward him. Javier took it, ejecting the clip and setting it on the table beside him. Kevin pulled in a shaky breath, running a hand over his face. It stayed there, pressed over his mouth. Muffled beneath it, his voice was small as his denials began to flow once more, like helium leaking from a balloon.
"It's not me. I swear. I'm not..."
Javier rested a hand lightly on his partner's shoulder, catching his eye and holding onto that contact desperately.
"We'll figure it out," Javier echoed himself, sounding certain.
And Javier believed those words—he had to—but Christ he just wished he knew how.
Javier felt Kevin sway just slightly under his touch, and quickly steered him toward a chair. Javier gave the shoulder a light squeeze before he turned his head to look towards Kate. She had relaxed somewhat, as had most of the others once his partner had been disarmed. Javier shot her a silent plea which she must have understood, because soon she had ushered the others out of the room.
It took Javier a while to get Kevin calmed down. What that translated to was a silent mode of tightly-wound panic that was almost perfectly still apart from the foot hammering restlessly under the table. Meanwhile, Javier's brain was having difficulty catching up with his gut. Even though he had been the one to make the connection, the idea that Kevin and their suspect could be the same person was difficult to get his head around. It sounded insane, and he wanted to say it was too impossible to be true, but Javier had been forced to accept too many strange things as part of his reality to discount it completely.
Still, he found his rational mind trying to deconstruct it.
Javier had been there when Kevin found Barbara's letter. If Kevin really was Reichardt, then he should have been able to understand it, shouldn't he? But Javier had watched Kevin skim that letter, and he hadn't seen even a whisper of recognition. Kevin had been in the perfect position throughout to steer the case away from himself—or bolt if he feared exposure. And right now, the confusion and fear he felt radiating off his partner were so palpable that Javier refused to believe they could possibly be a lie.
Kevin was staring at the surface of the table, unmoving except for the excited rhythm of his foot. The photograph had been left behind on the table, but Kevin had turned it face down minutes ago. He had been reluctant to touch it at first, but in the end he just hadn't seemed able to stand looking at it any longer. Even with his own experiences, Javier couldn't begin to imagine what his partner was feeling right now, how terrifying it must be having everyone doubt him like this.
Even worse if he was doubting himself.
Kevin looked...so lost. Javier's touch had helped to ground him earlier, and he found himself wanting to reach out again―to give Kevin something solid to hold on to. Javier was almost paralyzed by the indecision he felt about that impulse, mistrusting it. Afraid to have Kevin think he was staring, Javier had kept most of his attention on the door, waiting for the results that would bring an end to this bizarre state of limbo...
Something in the room changed abruptly. It took Javier a moment to realize that Kevin's foot had stopped. His partner breathed out slowly, dragging fingers raggedly through his hair.
"I don't know anything about this Reichardt guy," Kevin said, voice so small, but in its own way deafening after his silence. His eyes still stared at nothing. "Javi, even if I—"
Kevin stopped, silent for a moment, dazed, his face flashing with a sort of blank panic.
"Even if there is a connection...somehow," he eventually managed, "I just... I don't know."
And Javier couldn't stop himself from putting a hand on his partner's arm, then. Kevin met his eye for the first time since the others had left, looking at him with an uncertain, searching intensity that made Javier slightly uncomfortable. Like Kevin was looking at the only thing in the world that he was still sure of.
"I believe you," Javier said, softly.
It wasn't a lie. Whatever the connection between Kevin and their suspect ultimately turned out to be, Javier did believe him. He had to. Because if Kevin had managed to deceive him the entire time they had worked together, then Javier really didn't know this man at all.
PREV: Chapter Six // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Eight
Author's Note: I like to think that I've set this up so that it was easy to figure out―or failing that, that it makes sense after the fact. Or, you know, "a surreal kind of sense". Please let me know how I did with that. Also, any honest reactions to the reveal would be more than appreciated here or in PM.
Author's Note II: If you hadn't figured it out before, consider going back and re-reading interludes 2, 3 and 4 (or reading them, if you haven't yet).
Author's Note III: An explanation...
Series: Zeitgeist
Follows: One Giant Leap
Wordcount: 2,493
Summary: Two weeks after Claire Bennet's televised leap from the Ferris wheel, the 12th handles it's first case delving into the strange world of specials. Evidence points the investigation toward a former Company Agent, a man Noah Bennet would swear up and down doesn't exist.
Details: Minimal details due to inflation. Full details in main post.
PREV: Chapter Six // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Eight
Chapter Seven: The Other Shoe
Feeling paranoid? Good: illumination is on the other side of absolute terror. And the only terror that is truly absolute is the horror of realizing that you can't believe anything you've ever been told.
—Robert Anton Wilson and Robert Shea, Illuminatus!
Javier had spent almost the entire trip back trying to find a way out of the conversation he had promised his partner. So far, his ideas had all fallen painfully short. The closer they got to their destination, the closer they were to that looming talk, and the more anxious he got. By the time they stepped out of the elevator at the precinct Javier didn't think he had ever been more nervous about a single thing in his life.
A part of him still held on to the fear that Kevin wouldn't believe him. That was an old fear, however. An obsolete fear, a throwback emotion to a world that used to make sense. Even if that sense had always been an illusion. No, Kevin would believe him. And, in so many ways, Javier thought that made it worse... Time travel or not, you did not tell a man who was happily engaged that you didn't think it was going to work out. You did not tell your best friend that you though you kind of ended up together. Not if you wanted to keep that friend.
His stomach was a roiling mess by the time they rejoined the others in the side office. How had he ever thought eating was a good idea?
Something about the atmosphere in the room struck him as wrong almost immediately. Quiet wasn't something Javier was used to walking in on when he and Kevin returned to the station. Kate and Castle were almost always arguing about something when they did, or else Kate was occupied with something important, leaving Castle to roam free. His curious and often restless nature usually meant the writer would find his own trouble somewhere, poking around at things he generally shouldn't.
And, as he took in the scene in front of him, the first wrong thing that Javier managed to put his finger on was Castle. Seeing the writer so still was just blatantly unnatural...
"Why is it so quiet in here?" Kevin asked, a concerned crease marring his features as he clearly picked up on the same thing.
As he spoke, every face turned to look at them. Castle and Kate both wore near-identical expressions of surprise, though there was an odd wariness, too, that Javier didn't quite know how to read. Bennet's face was almost entirely blank. A glance at Tracy saw her raise an eyebrow, but even that yielded no response from him. In the corner a small Asian man that Javier didn't recognize stood up straight, staring with some confusing emotion that his mind could only manage to interpret as wonder.
"We found a photograph of Reichardt," Kate told them after a long moment, her voice holding an odd, careful tone Javier thought he had heard her use more than once.
Usually when breaking terrible news to the families of victims.
Javier's heart had started to pound before he even made that connection, as if some more primitive portion of his brain were already several steps ahead of him, crying out a warning. And, as Kate slid the photograph across the table for them to see, the warning Javier thought he heard, echoing vainly in the back of his mind, was look away.
The photo was obviously very old, its black and white image stained a dull yellow with age. The words "Auschwitz, 1944" had been scrawled across the border in faded black ink. In the picture, two men posed side by side, both dressed in uniform. Though the image was small and somewhat faded, and the background somewhat difficult to discern, the foreground was still sharp and even the small detail of their insignia was easily recognizable. Of the two men, one was slender and obviously light haired, directing a bright smile toward the camera. The second man was younger, possibly in his early twenties. His expression was far more subdued, the smile fragile and a little forced. Seeing him, Javier's breath stalled in his throat...
There was a stuttering moment where his mind refused to believe what his eyes were telling him. A moment where he tried to attribute the recognition to a trick of the light or some other mistake. But nothing he came up with ultimately altered what he saw. Impossibly, if not for the photograph's obvious age and the twisted scar marring that second man's face―and every other detail of the image, grotesquely and unforgivably wrong―Javier would have sworn to anyone that he was looking at a picture of his partner.
Javier turned to look at him, finding Kevin just as shocked as he was. More. Kevin's eyes were locked on the photograph in front of them, disbelieving, mouth hanging open slightly. He shook his head faintly, lips moving without sound as he wrestled to find his voice.
"How...?" Kevin finally managed, breathless as the words stumbled over each other. "I don't― Just...how?"
Kate watched his face very carefully. Taking in his confusion, her expression softened.
"Ryan," she asked, her voice even, quiet, calm, like she was afraid to spook him, "is it possible that you and Reichardt are related?"
It took so long for Kevin to respond that for a moment Javier wondered if he had even heard the question. His forehead creased briefly, followed by a series of rapid blinks before he shook his head.
"I don't see how...” He trailed off, wetting his lips. "I took after my mom. She took after her dad, and he never looked that much like me."
Kevin's voice was oddly distant. Or perhaps it simply sounded that way.
For Javier, their conversation fell into the background as he found himself looking at the photograph once again, eyes lingering on a single, bizarre detail. Suddenly, pieces of the future that had been shapeless in their mystery began to make a surreal sort of sense… The way the intervening years had left his partner almost untouched. The endearment Kevin had spoken, only half-remembered. The uncharacteristic bitterness Javier had heard in Kevin’s voice when DiNozzo mentioned Reichardt’s name...
His stomach gave a sick lurch as Javier finally understood why his future self hadn’t bothered to give him any information on this case, despite what it might mean for Kevin. If what he suspected were true, it would have been beyond Javier's power to change. The only impact he could have on the situation now hinged on his decision to speak or to stay silent, and in spite of the damage it would cause Javier knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. On the heels of that realization Javier finally understood the words his partner had spoken in that strange vision months ago—what Kevin would remember about this day years from now. An interpretation of his words that Javier had never imagined might be true...
Reichardt wasn't the one poised to destroy Kevin's life. Javier was.
"Kev..." Javier's throat was dry, tight, the sound of his voice so odd to his own ears that it could almost have belonged to someone else. "This looks like your handwriting."
And it did. It wasn't identical, but then one could hardly have expected it to be, not after so many years. But Javier looked at his partner's chicken scratch every day. After all their time working together, Javier could practically read it in his sleep―less of an exaggeration than most would believe, as more than one sleep-walking session through a rough case had proven. Javier knew those jagged flourishes, those sloped ones and goofy nines―and he knew he wasn't wrong.
At first Kevin only stared at the image, shaking his head silently―though Javier noticed that he didn't deny the observation―before he woke out of his daze with a harsh blink.
"That's not me," Kevin said, voice flat, like whatever he was feeling hadn't yet caught up with what Javier's words implied. He took a step back from the photo, eyes pulled away from it with a sharp jerk of his head. "It's not me."
His gaze only fled as far as Javier's face. Javier didn't even know what his own eyes might have shown. Whatever it was couldn't have been pleasant, because the expression that soon answered it―confusion, hurt, betrayal―was painful to see.
"Javi... This is― I don't know what this is. A trick, or...something," Kevin argued, desperately, gesturing loosely toward the picture he was still so carefully trying not to look at. "You really can't think that's me?"
Javier had almost forgotten there was anyone else involved in this until Bennet made a soft noise in his throat. As quiet as it was, it drew Javier's attention sharply. The expression on the older man's face was thoughtful.
"The Company files should contain both fingerprint and DNA profiles," Bennet ventured evenly. "We can try to make a comparison."
Though it was a logical enough response to such an illogical situation, apparently, for Kevin, it was just too much. When Bennet moved toward the door Kevin's eyes flew wide, and Javier watched his partner's anxiety slip into outright panic―only seconds too late to realize that Kevin had drawn his gun.
"Don't..." Kevin said. His voice and his hand both shook.
The focus of the entire room narrowed precariously upon his partner. Kate stood rigidly, her hand resting on her gun as she watched Kevin and Bennet both. She didn't draw, and Javier saw the uncertainty dancing in her eyes. Tracy's pose held a similar alertness. Though Javier didn't think she was armed, her hands hung ready at her sides, and while the room was warm her breath misted faintly. Castle's expression was one of helpless alarm, and the strange man had shrunk back into his corner, eyes lit almost comically with horror. Bennet for his part had halted, raising his hands level with his shoulders. Despite the gun aimed his way and the visible desperation of the man aiming it, he seemed unusually calm. Javier saw Bennet's glance cast briefly his way, as though curious to see his response.
As though Bennet saw as well as he did that the safe resolution of the stand off rested solely in Javier's hands.
"Kev." As he moved slowly in front of the gun, Javier tried not to think about Bennet standing behind him. "We'll figure this out, Kev, but right now you're making Castle nervous. C'mon. Give me the gun."
Kevin's eyes darted to Castle and Kate, taking in their tense postures, and Javier saw his partner hesitate, forehead knotting fretfully. When his attention returned Javier let his eyes dip briefly to the gun, lifting his eyebrows faintly. Kevin nodded, breathing a little ragged as he lowed the gun, turning the handle out toward him. Javier took it, ejecting the clip and setting it on the table beside him. Kevin pulled in a shaky breath, running a hand over his face. It stayed there, pressed over his mouth. Muffled beneath it, his voice was small as his denials began to flow once more, like helium leaking from a balloon.
"It's not me. I swear. I'm not..."
Javier rested a hand lightly on his partner's shoulder, catching his eye and holding onto that contact desperately.
"We'll figure it out," Javier echoed himself, sounding certain.
And Javier believed those words—he had to—but Christ he just wished he knew how.
Javier felt Kevin sway just slightly under his touch, and quickly steered him toward a chair. Javier gave the shoulder a light squeeze before he turned his head to look towards Kate. She had relaxed somewhat, as had most of the others once his partner had been disarmed. Javier shot her a silent plea which she must have understood, because soon she had ushered the others out of the room.
It took Javier a while to get Kevin calmed down. What that translated to was a silent mode of tightly-wound panic that was almost perfectly still apart from the foot hammering restlessly under the table. Meanwhile, Javier's brain was having difficulty catching up with his gut. Even though he had been the one to make the connection, the idea that Kevin and their suspect could be the same person was difficult to get his head around. It sounded insane, and he wanted to say it was too impossible to be true, but Javier had been forced to accept too many strange things as part of his reality to discount it completely.
Still, he found his rational mind trying to deconstruct it.
Javier had been there when Kevin found Barbara's letter. If Kevin really was Reichardt, then he should have been able to understand it, shouldn't he? But Javier had watched Kevin skim that letter, and he hadn't seen even a whisper of recognition. Kevin had been in the perfect position throughout to steer the case away from himself—or bolt if he feared exposure. And right now, the confusion and fear he felt radiating off his partner were so palpable that Javier refused to believe they could possibly be a lie.
Kevin was staring at the surface of the table, unmoving except for the excited rhythm of his foot. The photograph had been left behind on the table, but Kevin had turned it face down minutes ago. He had been reluctant to touch it at first, but in the end he just hadn't seemed able to stand looking at it any longer. Even with his own experiences, Javier couldn't begin to imagine what his partner was feeling right now, how terrifying it must be having everyone doubt him like this.
Even worse if he was doubting himself.
Kevin looked...so lost. Javier's touch had helped to ground him earlier, and he found himself wanting to reach out again―to give Kevin something solid to hold on to. Javier was almost paralyzed by the indecision he felt about that impulse, mistrusting it. Afraid to have Kevin think he was staring, Javier had kept most of his attention on the door, waiting for the results that would bring an end to this bizarre state of limbo...
Something in the room changed abruptly. It took Javier a moment to realize that Kevin's foot had stopped. His partner breathed out slowly, dragging fingers raggedly through his hair.
"I don't know anything about this Reichardt guy," Kevin said, voice so small, but in its own way deafening after his silence. His eyes still stared at nothing. "Javi, even if I—"
Kevin stopped, silent for a moment, dazed, his face flashing with a sort of blank panic.
"Even if there is a connection...somehow," he eventually managed, "I just... I don't know."
And Javier couldn't stop himself from putting a hand on his partner's arm, then. Kevin met his eye for the first time since the others had left, looking at him with an uncertain, searching intensity that made Javier slightly uncomfortable. Like Kevin was looking at the only thing in the world that he was still sure of.
"I believe you," Javier said, softly.
It wasn't a lie. Whatever the connection between Kevin and their suspect ultimately turned out to be, Javier did believe him. He had to. Because if Kevin had managed to deceive him the entire time they had worked together, then Javier really didn't know this man at all.
PREV: Chapter Six // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Eight
Author's Note: I like to think that I've set this up so that it was easy to figure out―or failing that, that it makes sense after the fact. Or, you know, "a surreal kind of sense". Please let me know how I did with that. Also, any honest reactions to the reveal would be more than appreciated here or in PM.
Author's Note II: If you hadn't figured it out before, consider going back and re-reading interludes 2, 3 and 4 (or reading them, if you haven't yet).
Author's Note III: An explanation...
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And my second guess would gave been Javier in that picture, but I'd discarded the idea because his time traveling doesn't work that way. So close and yet so far...I can't wait to see what happens next! O_O
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Apparently my brain is just as insane as yours. ;-)
Off to re-read now with the confirmation. =D
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Well, jeez... If it's really Ryan... did his power backfire SO bad he forgot himself? That oughta suck.
I would NOT want to be in their shoes right now.
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Where'd you get the pic, out of curiosity?
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