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Title: Black Edelweiss
Series: Zeitgeist
Follows: One Giant Leap
Wordcount: 4,455
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 warnings and details in main post.
PREV: Chapter Twenty-Seven // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter 28: Rude Awakening
Once I dreamt I was a butterfly, a butterfly flitting and fluttering around, doing as I pleased. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was myself. Suddenly I woke up and there I was, myself again. But I didn't know if I was myself who had dreamt I was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming he was me.
—Zhuang Zi
"You should get that."
Someone was knocking on his door again. Whoever it was, they were persistent—Kevin had been doing his best to ignore the sound for what felt like several hours. He had decided not to answer it because...
("Why is it so quiet in here?" )
He couldn't quite remember. Whatever it was, he thought, it couldn't have been that important.
"Not yet," Kevin said, returning his focus to the game. "It can wait. Let's finish this round first."
Though it was possible that the knocking was getting louder, because it was becoming more difficult for Kevin to push his awareness of it to the side.
"Bro, you really should get that. What if it's Jenny?"
"It's not," Kevin said, keeping his eyes on the screen. "She had that thing tonight, remember?"
Though Kevin couldn't now remember exactly what that thing was, either.
It did make sense, though—if Jenny had had plans it would have been the perfect opportunity for a game night. He and Javier hadn't had one in far too long—at least not a proper one, not like this. It had been months since Kevin had managed to feel this relaxed with his partner—back before things had gotten weird and complicated, and that confusing tension had stolen its way into their friendship. Kevin missed those days so badly. And he never missed them more than during the time that he and his partner did still spend together. No matter how pleasant it was, it always seemed to fall just short of the mark. But tonight, for the first time in ages, it felt like it used to—it felt like it was supposed to—and that wasn't something that Kevin was prepared to give up.
Not without a fight.
"Hey, keep your eyes on your side of the screen, Javi, you just shot me—"
"It's time for you to answer the door, Kev."
Javier said it very slowly, his voice soft and oddly solemn, and there was something strangely hollow about his partner's insistence that crept up on him, instilling Kevin with a peculiar sense of dread.
"I can't," Kevin said, his voice trembling just a little. He didn't dare to look at his partner, too afraid that if he did he would be forced to do what Javier asked. "I'm not ready."
Because he could feel it—even though he wasn't being allowed to remember what it was, Kevin knew that something was wrong. There was something lurking on the edge of thought and memory, something painful and horrifying—something destroying—that he didn't want to face. Something that was impossible for him to fight or to change, something that couldn't be ignored or denied. Something that he didn't want to accept—perhaps couldn't accept, not without being unmade.
Unmade...
("Kev... This looks like your handwriting." )
Kevin stood, slowly, turning to stare at the door. The banging was so much louder now, rattling the door on its hinges with every blow. A few nearby picture frames had fallen from the walls. Yet in spite of the violence he knew the chain would hold—it would hold for as long as he needed it to. Nothing could force him to leave...he would have to choose to. He looked away with a shudder, knowing...
Knowing now exactly what that would mean.
"I'm not ready, Javier," Kevin said, shaking his head. He was safe here, and as long as he stayed whatever was out there couldn't hurt him. "I can't—"
"You have to, Kevin," Javier interrupted. "You know you have to."
"Javier, please..."
"I know you're afraid, Kevin, but you can't stay," Javier said, softly. "You need to trust me."
("Kevin, I want you to trust me. Can you do that?" )
"I do trust you, Javi..." Kevin said wearily, finally looking his partner in the eye. "I'd trust you with anything, only—"
Kevin stopped himself, taking a deep breath.
"Only, you're not really Javier," Kevin said, acknowledging that fact slowly. "Because this place—this moment—is all in my head, and right now there isn't anyone I trust less than myself."
No one in the whole world that felt more like a stranger.
"I don't know if I can do this," Kevin said. "I don't know if I can survive the truth—all the confusion and grief and fear and guilt that's waiting on the other side of that door. It's too much, and it's something that, once I leave this place, I am never going to be able to escape."
"It's going to hurt, Kev," Javier said, mournfully. "It's going to hurt a lot, but you can't give up. That's what staying here is, Kevin. It's giving up. It's saying that nothing that you've ever done—none of the things that have made you who you are—ever mattered. And you don't believe that. I know you don't believe that, because I don't believe it. I know you—I know exactly who you are—and you are a lot stronger than you believe yourself to be. I know you can beat this, Kev."
And knowing that all of this was an illusion within his own mind, Kevin was caught off guard by that level of certainty. It was faith and confidence and purpose that, before, Kevin would never have thought he possessed—but that he now realized, in the life that lay ahead of him, he would be unable to survive without. He would need faith—strong faith—in the simple fact that he existed, and that his life held meaning.
Yet, if it surprised him to find these things in himself, it didn't surprise him at all that those virtues would be represented in Javier.
("We'll get through this. I promise." )
"Okay," Kevin said.
And his voice was a dried and terrified whisper, but it was still a promise—to himself, and to everyone to whom that person still mattered—that he would fight. That he would take that first step.
Before he even realized it the doorknob was in his hand.
Sparing one final look back at his partner, he saw Javier smile.
"See you soon, Kev."
(—
=)
When Kevin opened his eyes, it took a few moments for his awareness to fall into place.
He was sitting in the interrogation room, and Peter Petrelli sat at the table before him. At first glance, so little seemed to have changed that, just for a moment, Kevin wondered if whatever Peter had meant to do hadn't worked. But as other details trickled in, Kevin realized that his arms were no longer chained, and that his partner sat in a chair beside him. Turning to look at Javier in surprise, Kevin was shocked at what he saw. His partner had a split lip, and there was a dark bruise decorating the side of his face. He looked absolutely exhausted. But he was staring into Kevin's eyes with an intense, searching attention, his expression equal parts wary and hopeful in a way that Kevin couldn't quite manage to interpret.
"Kev?"
Javier sounded like he was making sure.
Kevin found that he couldn't respond—he could barely breathe, his chest painfully tight as it sunk in that he was missing time. And if he hadn't been there—if Javier hadn't known for certain who he was looking at—then he knew Konrad must have been there in his place, and there was no way for Kevin to know for how long, or what he might have done—
His heart was hammering violently in his chest, his anxiety and confusion threatening to devolve into full-blown panic, but Javier reached out to squeeze his shoulder.
"Hey, Kev, stay with me. Are you with me?" And when Kevin still didn't respond, his partner's hand slid up to the back of his neck, forcing him to look Javier in the eye. "Easy... It's okay. You're okay. It's over."
Firm but gentle, the contact helped to anchor him, their eye contact offering him something else on which he could focus.
"Javi, your face..."
Kevin stretched out his fingers to inspect the damage, but though his touch was light he watched Javier flinch. Not from pain, Kevin slowly realized. Recognizing the sudden alarm he saw in his partner's eyes, Kevin drew his hand back as if burned feeling a sick fear begin to squirm in his stomach.
"Oh, God... Did I—"
Kevin was hardly given a chance to fully think it before Javier visibly shook off whatever it was that had spooked him. Taking careful hold of Kevin's wrist Javier pulled it back between them, looking Kevin firmly in the eye.
"Just a misunderstanding," Javier said firmly—though Kevin wasn't sure if his partner was referring to the bruises or his own reaction. "Don't worry about it."
Kevin opened his mouth to argue, but the words just wouldn't come. Though he had so far avoided falling apart, his thoughts were still far too jumbled and chaotic for him to latch on to any one thing. Javier seemed to sense this and leaned in close enough so that, speaking softly, he could be heard.
"We got our killer, Kev," Javier said. "We got him. It wasn't you, and it wasn't Konrad, and—"
"How long?" Kevin finally managed to ask shakily. "How long was I—"
He was at a loss for how he should even frame the question. Fortunately, it required no clarification.
"Two days," Javier said, his eyes distant with a soft, weary expression of disbelief. "God...just two days. It felt like so much longer..."
Just two whole days that, to Kevin, had passed in the blink of an eye, because for two whole days Kevin hadn't existed in any practical sense of the word.
Kevin's mind hung helplessly on the thought. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in the hope that it might allow him to focus his thoughts into something coherent. But there was no way for him to examine the fact of his circumstances that could successfully blind him to their horror, and the attempt only sent him crashing back against the madness of it. Distantly, he was aware of pulling his hand back from his partner's grasp and curling in on himself, his elbows resting on the table to support him while his fingers threaded themselves tightly in his hair.
It took several slow, shaking breaths and the weight of Javier's arm slung carefully across his shoulder before Kevin finally managed to get a grip on himself. Opening his eyes, he saw that Petrelli was gone and only he and his partner remained. Though he knew their privacy was more than likely an illusion, Kevin was thankful. Even if Bennet and all the others were still watching from the observation room, at least Kevin could pretend that he wasn't falling apart in front of an audience...
Javier's arm tightened briefly around his shoulders. It took effort, but Kevin managed to signal his recovery with a nod and a weak attempt at a smile.
"What happened, Javier?" Kevin finally asked him. "What did—"
Jesus Christ, how the hell are you going to deal with any of this if you can't even bring yourself to say his name?
"What happened?" he asked again, a short moment later.
Because Kevin desperately needed to know what he had missed while he was...gone.
Javier hesitated briefly, letting his arm fall from Kevin's shoulders with a slight frown. Kevin couldn't imagine it was easy to figure out what to say or where to begin. After several slow, silent seconds of consideration Javier nodded quietly to himself, turning to examine Kevin's face carefully before he spoke.
"The interview...went about as well as it could have, I guess," Javier began slowly, awkwardly. "It was...like Bennet thought it might be. Reichardt—Konrad—didn't remember anything. Nothing after...after you. Nothing from your life. He wasn't there. But he did give us some background on the victim—not much, but more than we had. And he named a few other possible suspects, though at first we didn't think any of them were viable... Only, it turns out that Adam Monroe isn't as dead as Bennet and everyone else thought he was."
Javier took a deep breath, wetting his lips.
"We kept Konrad in holding while Kate and Bennet went looking for Barbara," Javier said, frowning. "I stayed on the desk. I—"
He hesitated, sitting back and looking down at the surface of the table. Kevin was concerned at his partner's sudden silence, but afraid to reach out to him, fearful that he might startle him once more.
"Only a few people in the station know he was you, Kev," Javier said finally, thankfully looking him in the eye. "I mean, they all saw you, but Bennet had Kate process Konrad under his own name. The official story is that Konrad agreed to give us information on Zimmerman, but didn't want to risk exposure. The whole precinct thinks that you volunteered to let him speak through you using an ability. None of them ever understood the real connection between you."
It would have been hard for Kevin to say he understood it himself, but he chose to spare Javier that observation in favor of another.
"That seems real flimsy, Javier," Kevin said weakly.
His partner frowned for a moment before shaking his head.
"Maybe," Javier allowed, "but it's close enough to the truth, and Montgomery's already signed off on it. That's how it's being handled. "
And Kevin saw what Javier was trying to say. He was saying there was a chance that Kevin could walk out of this room and resume the life he had been living before any of this came to light—that his secret was safe, and that the others were all willing to suppress the truth for his sake. Kevin didn't know how he was supposed to feel about that.
"What about the killer, Javi?" Kevin asked anxiously. "Adam Monroe? He knew Konrad, didn't he? What if he talks? Or...even if he doesn't, he's going to need to see trial some day... If we need a witness to get our conviction does that mean I'd have to—"
"No," Javier said firmly, cutting him off with a shake of his head. "Kate says that Bennet's been working on an angle with Monroe in order to get him to cooperate, and we've got Barbara as a witness if we need her. Even if she's not enough, there are other bodies Monroe needs to answer for. He's not getting away from this, Kev, and you—"
Javier stopped taking a deep breath.
"You don't have to worry about Konrad again," Javier said, very finally. "He isn't coming back. It's over now. Our lives can finally go back to normal."
Kevin wasn't sure that he could believe that last—from the look of it he didn't think Javier believed it either—but Kevin chose to nod his head as if he did all the same.
Several minutes passed before Kevin felt like the task of leaving interrogation was even remotely possible. Even stepping out into the hallway was difficult. A part of him feared looking anyone in the eye—in light of the things he had learned about himself, Kevin was terrified of what he might see. Yet if Kate's relieved greeting seemed a little uncertain it was also plainly heartfelt, and the quick, tight hug he got from Castle took him completely by surprise. Ms. Strauss offered him a sympathetic smile. Bennet, for his part, met Kevin's arrival—his return—with an appraising glance before acknowledging him with a simple nod.
"Welcome back, detective," Bennet said.
The walk from interrogation to Montgomery's office felt impossibly strange, as if he didn't walk those same steps almost every day. As they went, Kevin saw that the eyes of the officers they passed held an awed yet wary respect—no doubt, he thought, due to the frightening risk they believed he had taken. While he supposed the risk had been very real, Kevin felt uncomfortable at the attention. The falsehood on which it was based was at the forefront of Kevin's mind...
And with it the certainty that, possessed of all the information, any awe they still felt would find itself tempered naturally by revulsion.
Seated before the captain, Kevin kept his eyes downcast, listening with a quiet, desperate attention as the others made their full report on all that had happened in his absence. Over the course of their debrief, Kevin learned several things.
He learned about Adam Monroe, and the motives of revenge that had led him to murder Jonas Zimmerman with the intent of framing Konrad and forcing his exposure. According to Bennet, the man had agreed—with what, given Adam's earlier goals, Kevin had to assume involved some manner of threat or supernatural coercion—not only to confess his crime but to keep Konrad's existence—at least in his current identity as Kevin Ryan—a secret. It was all very neat and tidy. Yet, while Kevin was endlessly thankful to have been found innocent of Zimmerman's murder, the knowledge that he had still been indirectly responsible for the man's death inflicted a subtle, nagging pain on his conscience, like a sore under his tongue.
He learned that, apparently, there was a recording of Kate's interview with Konrad. The official version had been edited heavily, but a copy of the original had been kept for review by those who already knew his secret. Bennet, Javier, Kate, Castle—each of them had already begun to lose their own memories of the interrogation. And that recording would be available for Kevin to view when he felt he was ready, they told him—though Kevin couldn't even begin to imagine when that might be.
Finally, they told him about Konrad's escape.
Hearing them relate the event—even knowing how everything had turned out—Kevin had experienced a churning surge of panic. Konrad had vanished from interrogation. He had assaulted Kevin's partner and taken his gun. He had basically kidnapped Javier, and the two of them taken off to do God-knows-what only God knew where—though Castle said something about Maryland—and God alone knew why, because now his partner didn't remember any of it. Even Kate's assurance that Konrad had returned—and returned him—of his own free will couldn't quell the of anxious feeling of dread twisting in his gut.
They had very few leads to work from, and discretion would slow any investigation, otherwise they risked calling attention to why they were tracking the whereabouts of their own detectives... There was a very real possibility that Kevin would never know exactly what his other half had been doing.
Kevin did his best to remain calm, but in the end it was all far too much to take in at once.
He managed a short, choked excuse as he left Montgomery's office, though it was hardly even words. No one stopped him, and when he heard the door open and close behind him he didn't bother to look back—he knew it was Javier who had followed. When his partner finally caught up with him Kevin was standing at the elevator. He had stopped because he didn't even know where he was going—he just needed desperately to be somewhere else. But as desperate as he was for some manner of escape—from his circumstances and the impossibility of facing them—he knew it simply wasn't possible.
And he half feared that if he kept going—if he left the precinct and his partner and everyone else behind—he might start running. If he did, he wasn't sure that he could stop.
When Kevin turned around Javier still stood several feet away, though it was nakedly apparent how badly he wanted to close that distance. Kevin thought it was likely his partner was afraid of scaring him into taking off again. In fact, as Kevin considered the lengths to which Javier must have gone to just to keep an eye on him—on Konrad, during his escape, even if Javier no longer fully remembered—it became impossible to see the look in his partner's eyes as anything less than panic.
Seeing Kevin bolt like that...
"Shit. Javi, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—" Kevin stopped, shaking his head as he tried to wrangle some control over his thoughts and his breathing. "I just— I need—"
Honestly, Kevin didn't have a clue what he needed. His sanity had been beaten to tatters, and it was all he could do to maintain his hold on the ragged ends of what remained. He was so close to losing his grip completely...
As he watched his partner's panic cool into something else, Kevin thought it was possible Javier understood that.
"No. I get it," Javier said, finally taking a step toward him. His eyes scanned the hallway for a moment before taking cautious hold of Kevin's arm. "Come on."
Kevin wondered very briefly where they were going, but it honestly didn't matter, so he didn't bother to ask, simply allowing himself to be led. They didn't go far. Kevin was surprised when they stopped at the door to one of the men's rooms. Javier opened the door, doing a quick sweep before turning to gesture Kevin in. The gesture turned awkward and loose as his partner looked him over. He seemed uncertain and oddly embarrassed... No doubt due to the skeptical expression that Kevin knew was on his face.
"You need a moment," Javier said, softly. "Take it. Take as long as you need. And when you're ready I'll be waiting."
Though still uncertain, Kevin gave in to the remedy for his partner's sake.
Once the door closed behind him, Kevin found he did feel some small relief. No one was watching him here. He didn't have to worry about what anyone else was seeing. That had been the hardest part of sitting in that office, he realized—the scrutiny, real or imagined. Knowing that the others knew the truth, it was difficult to imagine what they must see when they looked at him, yet at the same time, it was hard not to wonder. Were they looking for cracks, waiting for him to split apart again? Were they trying to see through the illusion now that they knew what lay underneath? Or was it the other way around—did they now have trouble seeing him at all? And when he looked at the people who didn't know, it was almost impossible not to speculate what they might think of him if they did...
No, Kevin thought with a weak snort, he did need some time alone—time to think, and to decide where things stood within his own head before trying to worry about his standing with anyone else.
Alone...or at least as alone as it was possible to be when there was another person lurking deep inside his mind.
That thought drew his gaze to the mirror. It was difficult, at first, to even look himself in the eye—to look upon a face that he now knew wasn't entirely his. Taking a deep breath, Kevin fought the panic and the nausea threatening to creep up on him—forcing himself to look, to lay his claim.
His body. His face. His life.
If Kevin couldn't convince himself to believe that, then there was no point expecting anyone else to.
As he allowed the study of his reflection to roam, Kevin became aware of other details. He took note of the fact that his vest and tie and jacket were all missing. He was also wearing a different shirt than the one remembered putting on the last time he had dressed. He recognized the one he was wearing now—he always kept a few in a locker at the station for all-too-frequent emergencies—but the knowledge that it had been Konrad who had put it on him rendered that otherwise simple detail paralyzingly surreal.
His stomach did a queasy flip when he realized the cut from his encounter with Barbara had healed completely.
The shock left his face somewhat pale, making the few days' neglected growth of his beard stand out on his cheeks and chin. His hair was also a mess, though he recognized that was his own fault from the way he had been pulling on it. Coupled with the shrunken, defensive stance he saw he had fallen into and his avoidance of eye-contact, Kevin thought he looked, appropriately, like a crazy person. Certainly not like anyone he should have recognized.
Kevin let out a self-conscious snort, making an effort to stand up a little straighter as he sorted himself out. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt as best he could, wet his hands from the tap and combed them carefully through his hair. He managed to relax the tension in his shoulders just a little. It wasn't much, but it was an improvement. Looking just that much more put together helped him feel just that much more like a whole person. Offering himself a weak smile, he stuck his hands in his pockets.
He sucked a hiss through his teeth at the sudden, sharp pain in his hand.
Pulling his hand from his pocket, Kevin found the pin he usually wore on the lapel of his jacket. The backing had slipped loose, and he had stuck himself pretty badly. Leaning over the sink, Kevin carefully withdrew the pin from his finger. A few small drops of bright red blood fell into the basin as he quickly turned on the tap, but as he rinsed it under the cold water the sting he was expecting never came. Bringing his hand closer to inspect the damage, Kevin's breath caught when he found none. He had stuck himself badly enough to bleed, and yet there was nothing...
His hands were shaking before he even managed to fully process what that meant.
The pin fell from numb fingers, rattling noisily in the sink as he stared at his hand. As if it were something he had never seen before—as if a part of his brain refused to recognize it as his. Kevin felt his knees start to buckle beneath him, and when they lost the strength to keep him standing he only just managed to catch himself on the edge of the sink. He hung there silently for a while, water soaking through the knees of his slacks from the damp tile, forehead pressed against the cool porcelain of the basin as he tried desperately to regain the stability he had so briefly won. Trying to keep his grasp on a reality that had flown so far past sane that words didn't even exist for it.
And as he knelt there, engaged in his struggle, Kevin shocked himself by letting out a laugh, even one that was half sob by the end of it. Because there was nothing funny about any part of this, and especially not about the understanding that had come crashing down on his head like a brick. Because Javier had been wrong—painfully wrong.
Kevin might have been himself again—whatever that even meant—but nothing about his life was going to be anything close to normal ever again.
PREV: Chapter Twenty-Seven // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Twenty-Nine
