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A/N: I don’t own the concept behind Kevin joining a bust/getting injured. This was based on mariadperiad20’s fic 9th favorite shirt which you can read here. The entire Foray into B99 is my favorite thing ever, and they graciously permitted me to use the beginning concept of this for two different story ideas I had.
Jake was bored, leaning up against the brick wall, occasionally flipping through his phone. Kevin stood beside him stoically, posture perfect as always.
Kevin had agreed, somewhat begrudgingly, to come on this operation since the item they were recovering was one of the oldest copies of Canterbury Tales to have ever been seen. Kevin had seemed excited, well as excited as Kevin ever seemed, at the prospect of getting to see the book, much less handle it.
The need for Kevin had risen when the proprietor had demanded someone ‘good at book handling’ accompany Jake to make his arrest. Captain Holt had pointed out that Kevin would normally bristle at just a condescending description of his academic work, but clearly, the allure of actually getting to see the book close up was enough for Kevin to disregard his pride.
Naturally, Jake hadn’t been bothered by the thinly veiled insult, rather shrugging and seeing that it was best someone came along so he didn’t get in trouble if the book did get damaged.
Captain Holt, on the other hand, had been far clearer about why he hadn’t wanted Kevin to accompany Jake on this particular case. In a rare display of emotions, he’d even exclaimed, quite loudly, the risk was far too high, and Kevin could get hurt.
Holt’s reasoning hadn’t of course, stopped Kevin from wanting to be involved. This is how the pair now found themselves standing in the alleyway on a chilly January day. Kevin was standing nearby, pretending to read a newspaper, while Jake eyed various people as they passed by.
Suddenly, Jake’s casual demeanor shifted, and he straightened, “Michael Turken? NYPD,” Jake stated as the individual from their case file neared them. The man took one look at Jake’s badge and bolted off down the street. “Damn it!” Jake shouted before matching the man’s sprint.
Jake wasn’t aware of Kevin’s location, and perhaps that was his first mistake, as he followed the suspect, his feet hitting the pavement hard as they rounded a corner into another alley, that thankfully had a rather high fence and no way to easily climb it.
Jake hurried to grab the man, only as the perp whirled on him and suddenly Jake felt something sharp stab his side. He grunted in pain, hissing through his teeth as whatever had gone into his side was pulled right back out, in an instant Jake felt hot liquid begin to trickle down his side and silently cursed what would inevitably be desk duty for a few days.
“Jake?” Kevin, looking abnormally flustered, joined the pair in the alley and Jake quickly nodded to the bag that had been dropped on the ground as he fought to wrestle his handcuffs on their suspect.
“Check the bag, make sure the book is in there,” Jake ordered as he managed to kick the knife that had most definitely been stabbed into him, away toward a trashcan. Was it getting harder to breathe? It felt like he was more out of breath than he normally would be after a brisk run, “Michael Turken you have the right to remain silent—”
“Jake—” Kevin’s voice sounded unusually harried, though Jake was certain to anyone else he still sounded unflappable.
Jake turned his head to look over his shoulder, seeing that Kevin had gone rather pale as he peered inside the bag. “What?”
“There’s a hand in this bag.”
“What, ew…like a fake one?” Jake handcuffed the other end of the cuffs to the chain-link fence, he could finish reading the rights in a minute, he turned back to check the bag and it all happened so quickly, his gun left his holster and there was a loud pop, a second later the bag was back on the ground and Kevin’s hands were over his stomach where he now stood in front of Peralta.
“Shit,” Jake cursed, he stepped around Kevin, and slammed his fist quickly into Turken’s jaw, thankfully knocking the perp out. He finished getting him in handcuffs before he stripped off his NYPD jacket and pressed it into Kevin’s injury.
“This is non-lethal; I will be fine,” Kevin assured him.
Jake shook his head, he must be panicking, because breathing was most certainly getting more difficult. “What the fuck, Kevin. I’m a cop, why did you step in front of him?” Jake demanded, thinking about how furious Holt was going to be.
“And simply let him kill you?” Kevin countered, gasping as Jake pressed down a little harder.
“Yes!” Jake snapped, “I signed up for that, that’s literally why I wear the badge.”
“That hardly seems fair. Especially given I would be the one having to console Raymond if something happened to you,” reasoned Kevin.
Jake had trouble believing that Holt would care much at all, but he kept his opinion to himself. “Yeah, and now you’re going to be the reason he murders me,” Jake griped.
“Hardly, as I said this is non-lethal.” There was an odd pause, “Jacob, did you touch your hands to your side in the last minute?”
Jake shook his head, “What? No. Kevin, save your breath,” he panted as he pressed down a little harder. Why was it so damn hard to breathe? Was he seeing spots now? Jake focused back on Kevin, who in turn was staring up at Jake with concern.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let you get hurt,” Jake apologized, feeling nauseous and cold all at once, as if it was suddenly hitting him that Kevin was bleeding under his hands.
“It is hardly your fault, I stepped in the way.”
“Why would you do that?” Jake asked again, glancing over at the perp who was thankfully still out cold.
“Because you matter to Raymond, and to me,” Kevin added after another moment. “Jacob, are you all right, you seem to be having trouble breathing.”
“I’m fine, you’re the one with a gunshot wound,” Jake replied, trying to focus on the words that Kevin was saying. The admission Kevin had just made left Jake feeling both thrilled and terrified about what Holt would say when he arrived.
He didn’t have long to consider, because a moment later the ambulance and police cruisers arrived. Captain Raymond Holt was the first one out of the car. “Kevin,” Ray said, and though to anyone it would sound as if it was a common statement, Jake could see and hear the fear and tension in Holt’s voice.
“Captain—”
“What did you do!” demanded Ray as he pushed Jake’s hands aside and pressed down harder.
Kevin’s own hands came up to grip Ray’s as he failed to hold back a groan of pain at the pressure. “Captain, it is good to see you.”
“You need to save your strength.” Ray admonished before he turned to Peralta, the perp, who’d finally regained consciousness was being taken to one of the cruisers. “I told you to keep him safe. You couldn’t even take that seriously?” he demanded.
Jake hung his head, his breath catching in his throat as he felt shame and hurt well up. He was beginning to feel dizzy, “Captain—” he began right as Kevin also tried to speak. “Raymond—”
“I do not want to hear it. I will deal with you later, get out of my sight.” His tone was quiet, calm, and icy, enough that Jake nodded and backed further against one of the walls. His knees gave out and he slowly sank to the ground, watching as the paramedics hurried to get Kevin loaded onto a gurney and into the ambulance.
Jake felt the world around him growing hazy as he heard the ambulance take off, his breathing was beginning to feel twice as difficult. “Jake?” Terry’s familiar features swam in front of him as he gasped for air like a fish out of water.
“Ter—”
“I NEED ANOTHER BUS!” Terry yelled, one of his hands coming to Jake’s side.
“I’m—sorry,” he choked, tears slipping from his eyes.
“Take shallow breaths, Jake. “You’re going to be okay,” Terry reassured.
But all Jake knew was darkness as he let himself slide into unconsciousness.
Captain Raymond Holt was pacing the length of the waiting room as the rest of his team began to filter in. “Captain, how is he?” Amy asked as she arrived.
“They seemed very positive, he is in surgery now,” Holt replied, he knew he should feel relief, but all he felt was worry. He had overreacted at the crime scene; Kevin had said as much in the back of the ambulance. Explaining that he’d jumped in front of the shooter because the shot would’ve killed Peralta.
When Terry arrived without Jake, Raymond felt his worry mount. “Where is Peralta?”
Terry glanced at Amy, his face growing serious, Raymond knew that facial expression, Terry had bad news and didn’t want to upset anyone. “Jake was stabbed at the crime scene…we found the knife.”
“What?” Amy gasped.
“The medics think it pierced his lung and nicked an artery, causing him to lose air and fill with fluid. His lung collapsed on the way in.”
“Is he alive?” Amy asked quietly, her voice wavering.
“They lost him briefly, but they were able to bring him back, they rushed him into surgery as soon as we arrived.”
Raymond sank into one of the plastic chairs, recalling his last words to Jacob had been harsh ones. He hadn’t checked on the status of his officer, but rather immediately let his emotions and fears get the better of him.
“Captain, you good?” Terry asked a little while later as they sat in the waiting room.
“I reprimanded Peralta for letting Kevin get injured. Only for Kevin to tell me he stepped in front of the perp to take the bullet. Now, I find myself at odds with my emotions. Peralta—Jacob regularly frustrates and irritates me. But I know he cares a great deal for this squad, and Kevin. Now I fear I have said something I will not get the chance to retract.”
Terry nodded in understanding. “You know, that’s the thing about having kids, they can drive you crazy one minute and be your biggest concern the next.”
“But Jacob is not my child.”
“Maybe not biologically. But you’ve said yourself that as adults we make the family, we wish we’d had. Jake worms his way into everyone’s hearts eventually, Captain. I don’t think you can deny that you see him differently than you see Boyle or even me.”
Holt was quiet for a moment, “I suppose not.”
“And I don’t think Kevin would’ve stepped in front of a bullet for anyone else but Jake. Like it or not, I think you both see him as a son, even if you don’t realize it.”
“What do I do?”
Terry smiled softly, “Apologize, and maybe remind him that he’s important to you too.”
“Captain Holt,” a doctor called, startling everyone. Raymond quickly stood. “Your husband is out of surgery; we’re moving him into a room shortly.”
“And he is all right?”
The doctor nodded, “He should make a full recovery. I’ll have a nurse bring you to his room once we’ve gotten him settled.”
“Thank you.” Before she could turn and walk away, Raymond spoke again. “Doctor, one of my officers, Jacob Peralta, was also brought in and taken to surgery. Could you make sure he’s put in the same room as my husband? He’s our son.”
The doctor gave him a sympathetic smile, “Of course. I’ll see if I can get an update as well.”
Raymond nodded his thanks.
“That’s a pretty good start, Captain.”
Half an hour later, Ray found himself seated in the middle of two beds. On one side slept Kevin, who, despite all things, appeared to be doing well. The doctors expected he’d regain consciousness soon. On the other side was Jacob, who they also expected to make a full recovery, but had crashed twice, once because of the collapsed lung and the second time due to blood loss. He was hooked up to a variety of tubes and wires, getting blood, and fluids, and he had a chest tube to keep his lung reinflated. They were keeping him under for a little longer to stabilize him.
“Raymond?” Kevin’s voice brought Raymond out of his thoughts, he turned to look at his husband and he couldn’t help but smile.
“It is good to see your eyes,” Raymond admittedly softly.
Kevin gave him a weak smile before he turned his head and saw Peralta, his brows furrowing. “He was injured.”
“You knew?”
Kevin shook his head, exhaustion etched in his features. “Not for certain. His breathing had grown labored as we were waiting for you and the ambulance to arrive. He also had blood on his side that didn’t appear to have come from me.”
“He was stabbed, the knife punctured his lung and nicked an artery. He died twice,” Ray whispered the last part.
Kevin reached out, gently gripping the hand that was lying at his side. “He made it, Raymond. We both did.”
“I shouted at him, it was unprofessional and…unkind.”
“It was, but now you have the chance to apologize to him.”
Raymond nodded. “Jeffords says that these feelings of frustration, and fear come from a place of…parenthood.”
Kevin chuckled, grimacing at the end of it. “I’m inclined to agree. Raymond, it’s no secret we both care deeply for him. If we had adopted, I’d like to think our child would’ve turned out quite like him.”
“Hmm, perhaps a little more professional,” Raymond replied.
Kevin smiled, “Perhaps, but I think you enjoy that he keeps you on your toes.”
Ray reached out, releasing Kevin’s hand, and gently pushed the hair from Jacob’s face, hating how pale the young man appeared. “I do, indeed.” His voice was soft and filled with fondness.
“Tell him, Raymond. We both will.”
The End
