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asphaltcowgrrlTitle: It Ain’t Nothin’
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,039
Summary: Something happens during an interview that lands one of the boys in the ER.
Author’s Note: Written for the weekend challenge at 1_million_words. My prompt was: “He was vaguely aware that he was weeping. It didn't mean anything.” Not sure why this screamed ZAYNE at me, but here we are.
“Zeklos.”
“Andy?” It was Hilary, sounding worried. “Where are you? Is Zayne nearby? He’s not answering his phone.”
“No, no he would not be answering his phone,” Andrej said quietly. “We are in the emergency room.”
“What? Why are you in the ER?” He could hear the panic rising in her voice. She cut him off before he could respond to her questions. “Are you okay? Is Zayne? What happened? Why aren’t you telling me anything?”
“Take a damn breath,” he heard Trish say in the background. She sounded worried, too, but not quite as panicked as Hilary. “Give me the phone.” There was some rustling before he heard Trish say hello.
“What’s going on? We were trying to get ahold of Zayne to ask him something, but he wasn’t answering his phone.”
“Zayne had an accident,” he said with a sigh. “He is okay, but he was injured.”
“Okay,” Trish said, letting out a heavy breath. “Let me put you on speaker and then tell me what happened.”
He waited until he heard both girls’ voices saying they were ready before he began. “We were interviewing a witness that we both suspected was the perpetrator in our current case.” Running his fingers through his hair, he continued. “Zayne had asked him a question that made the suspect uh, how did Zayne say it? Twitchy?”
Hilary chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds like Zayne.”
“Based on the reaction, Zayne gave me our code for ‘let’s regroup and come back’. I agreed with his assessment; we needed to gather some background information and come back when we were better informed.”
Andrej closed his eyes and pressed the fingertips of his free hand against his forehead, wishing he could keep the memory of what happened next hidden away in the depths of his subconscious. He knew that he’d be replaying those few minutes of his life over and over again in his dreams.
“Zayne stood, we’d been sitting on the couch in the suspect’s house, and I stood after him.” He took a deep breath. “Zayne moved towards the front door, and I turned to follow. I’d only gotten a few steps when I felt something against my back.”
“Oh shit,” Trish muttered. “We’re not going to like this, are we?”
“No,” he said. “I stopped, glanced over my shoulder, and saw that our suspect had pressed the barrel of a gun against me. Zayne turned and, for reasons I do not understand, crossed the living room swiftly. He grabbed my arm, yanked me out of the way before the suspect could react. He shoved me towards the door, turning back towards the gunman and before Zayne could disarm him, he pulled the trigger.”
He felt his gut clench as he said the words. Even here, in the lobby of the emergency room, he could smell the acrid bite of the gunpowder. And the blood. There was so much blood. Zayne’s blood. At times, he swore he could still feel it on his skin, sticky and hot.
“Jesus,” Trish muttered.
“Holy shit,” Hilary shouted.
“He got Zayne in the left shoulder, a mistake on the gunman’s part. He should have shot him in the right side.” A smile tickled his lips at the thought of what came next. “Zayne, enraged at being shot and running on adrenaline, jerked the gun out of the guy’s hand and cracked him in the head with it. It knocked him out cold. I believe Zayne was in shock.”
“Nah, that’s just Reyes in pissed off mode,” Trish laughed. “Not surprised he coldcocked the fucker who shot him.”
Andrej sighed heavily. “He’s being treated right now and, wait, I believe that is the doctor. I will call you back.”
Hanging up, he leapt to his feet and raced across the floor of the waiting room.
--
“Do we have to,” Zayne asked sleepily. He was still struggling against the sedative, having trouble shaking its effects.
“Only for a few minutes,” Andrej said, giving him that look, the one that said he’d better comply or there’d be consequences later. “The girls are worried about you.”
“And the narco?” He was on the fence on whether he wanted to see Rosewood right now or not. “Is he worried?”
“Jay is on his way here,” Andrej said, looking at his phone, responding to a text. “He insisted when I called to let him know you were awake and recovering.”
Zayne nodded. He really didn’t want company, but if they were going to let him go home tonight, then it was probably better that Zeklos had help. “Okay, let’s get this over with. I know that everyone in this place likely hates me right now.” Zeklos had informed him that, because he was being combative, they’d knocked him out to clean and suture his wounds. He was ashamed of his behavior, but he hadn’t been himself either.
Chuckling, Andrej shook his head. “They understood,” he said, resting a hand on Zayne’s arm. “You are a police officer who had been attacked and shot. It was only natural to be in battle mode. Although, we might want to send them something tomorrow, just in case.”
Nodding, Zayne agreed. “Okay, make the call before I throw up.”
Andrej gave him a wary look. “Please get that out of your system before I put you in my car.”
Laughing, Zayne winced when the action sent a bolt of pain through his body. “Damn, that hurts.”
“It will only get worse when the pain medication wears off, I’m afraid.” He initiated a video call to Hilary’s phone and waited.
“Is he okay,” she asked without even saying hello. “Let me see him, Andy.”
Turning his phone so that it faced Zayne, he heard both Hilary and Trish start to cry. Hilary, he had expected. Trish had been a surprise.
“Jesus,” Zayne groaned. “Do I look that bad?” He moved his fingers over his face, across his hair.
Hilary started to choke on her tears before they turned into laughter. “No asshole, we were just terrified we were going to lose you.”
She started to cry again, and Trish wrapped a supportive arm around her. “How are you feeling, Reyes?”
“Tired. Giddy. Like I’m going to hurl.” He shrugged with his good shoulder. “Typical from what they’ve told me.”
“Good,” Trish said. “Not sure it’d be the same without your dumb ass around making stupid jokes.”
Zayne smiled. “I love you, too, Rollins.”
“Whatever,” she said, winking. “Hil?”
“You know I love you, Zayne.” She dabbed at her eyes with a Kleenex. “Go home, get some rest, and let Andy take care of you.”
“Doesn’t Andy already take care of him,” Trish asked. “I was certain that was the only reason Reyes was still alive.”
“Yes,” Hilary confirmed, “but he’s going to be doing double duty now. Andy? Let us know if you need any help. Or a break, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed, not turning the phone towards himself. “Tell the girls goodnight, Zayne. I think I heard your doctor in the next cubicle.”
“Good night,” Zayne said, feeling emotion welling in his chest. “I’m sure Zek will keep you updated on my condition.”
“When can we come see you,” Hilary asked.
“I will call you in the morning,” Andrej said, finally turning the phone towards himself. “Depending on how he is feeling, I will let you know.”
“That’s good enough,” Hilary said. “Let us say goodbye.”
He turned the phone back in Zayne’s direction and they said their goodbyes. Andrej pocketed his phone, looking at Zayne for a moment.
Zeklos had an odd look on his face, one Zayne couldn’t place for a moment. That was when he became vaguely aware that he was crying. It didn’t mean anything, he told himself. It was the adrenaline dump, the shock of being shot. It was the girls’ fear and worry bouncing off of him. Hell, it could be the meds making him crazy. These tears didn’t mean shit.
He put his face in his hands and sobbed.
Zayne felt the bed dip and then a strong, familiar arm wrapped carefully around him. He leaned into Zeklos’ body, taking in all the quiet strength his partner projected. Zeklos was muttering softly in his ear, words that he didn’t understand, but knew were meant to comfort him all the same. More tears came, more intensely than before, when he realized how upset Zeklos must be if he were attempting to soothe Zayne in Romanian.
“Îmi pare rău,” he whispered, using one of the few phrases he’d learned over the years. I’m sorry. A phrase he now knew in three languages. One he probably ought to learn in several more.
“Nu,” was all Andrej could offer back, hand caressing Zayne’s face. “No,” he repeated, fighting to get control of himself and his English.
“Te iubesc,” Zayne countered. Next to I’m sorry, it was probably the most important phrase he’d learned in his boyfriend’s native tongue.
“Te amo,” Andrej replied in one of Zayne’s native tongues.
A smile crossed Zayne’s face at that. “You might learn some Spanish yet,” he teased.
“Aw, isn’t this sweet,” James said, entering the small cubicle they had Zayne stashed in. “Your doctor’s coming to discharge you, he told me which spot was yours.”
“Thanks, gingerbread,” Zayne said, accepting the gentle half-hug the redhead offered.
“How you feeling?” James shoved his hands into his pockets, watching Zayne closely.
“Just peachy,” Zayne laughed, wincing again at the pain that it caused. “But I’ll survive.”
“Glad to hear it,” the doctor said, parting the curtain and coming inside. “Who is going to accept responsibility for you?”
“That would be me,” Andrej said. “We live together so it makes the most sense.”
The doctor nodded and went over cleaning and caring for the wound in detail. Andrej, true to form, broke out the notebook he used during interviews and jotted down anything he thought to be important. “He ought to come back in a week for a recheck, just to make sure that the wound is healing. No need to make an appointment, but if you call ahead, one of the nurses can set aside a space to look at it. That way you won’t be waiting half the day to get seen.”
Andrej made a note of that and nodded. “I will make sure to call ahead.”
“And he’ll likely call four hours in advance,” Zayne added. “It’s how he is.”
The doctor chuckled and asked if they had any questions. Seeing as no one had any, he handed Zeklos a clipboard with papers to be signed. Once he’d completed them all and handed them back, a nurse came in pushing a wheelchair.
“Not sure she’ll be able to push your lard ass out of here, Reyes,” James teased.
“Go to hell, gingerbread,” he shot back, causing the nurse to bark out a laugh.
“How do you deal with these two,” she asked Andrej quietly.
“It is an exercise in extreme patience,” he whispered back.
“Believe it or not,” she told James, “I am stronger than I look.” With that, she helped Zayne off the exam table and into the wheelchair.
Andrej exited the emergency room to get his car. He was just pulling to the curb when the nurse pushed Zayne through the automatic doors, James close on her heels.
“Okay cowboy,” James said, hauling Zayne out of the chair and into Andrej’s car. “I’ll be right behind you guys. So, no more stupid and reckless behavior, okay cowboy?”
“Yeah, yeah, narco,” Zayne shot back. “No more idiotic acts out of me tonight.”
“I guess I can’t expect any more,” James said. His eyes flicked to Zeklos. “If you want, I can stay to make sure you’re not alone if he falls or does something else stupid.”
“Hey, I promised, no more stupid tonight,” Zayne protested.
“I meant accidentally stupid, not intentionally like earlier.”
“That would be fine,” Andrej said, stopping the inevitable argument before it could start. “See you at home.”
James nodded. He ruffled Zayne’s hair before quickly kissing his check. “Thank you for watching out for Andy.”
Zayne smiled, his heart swelling with pride and love. “It’s my job, narco. It’s what I do.”
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,039
Summary: Something happens during an interview that lands one of the boys in the ER.
Author’s Note: Written for the weekend challenge at 1_million_words. My prompt was: “He was vaguely aware that he was weeping. It didn't mean anything.” Not sure why this screamed ZAYNE at me, but here we are.
“Zeklos.”
“Andy?” It was Hilary, sounding worried. “Where are you? Is Zayne nearby? He’s not answering his phone.”
“No, no he would not be answering his phone,” Andrej said quietly. “We are in the emergency room.”
“What? Why are you in the ER?” He could hear the panic rising in her voice. She cut him off before he could respond to her questions. “Are you okay? Is Zayne? What happened? Why aren’t you telling me anything?”
“Take a damn breath,” he heard Trish say in the background. She sounded worried, too, but not quite as panicked as Hilary. “Give me the phone.” There was some rustling before he heard Trish say hello.
“What’s going on? We were trying to get ahold of Zayne to ask him something, but he wasn’t answering his phone.”
“Zayne had an accident,” he said with a sigh. “He is okay, but he was injured.”
“Okay,” Trish said, letting out a heavy breath. “Let me put you on speaker and then tell me what happened.”
He waited until he heard both girls’ voices saying they were ready before he began. “We were interviewing a witness that we both suspected was the perpetrator in our current case.” Running his fingers through his hair, he continued. “Zayne had asked him a question that made the suspect uh, how did Zayne say it? Twitchy?”
Hilary chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds like Zayne.”
“Based on the reaction, Zayne gave me our code for ‘let’s regroup and come back’. I agreed with his assessment; we needed to gather some background information and come back when we were better informed.”
Andrej closed his eyes and pressed the fingertips of his free hand against his forehead, wishing he could keep the memory of what happened next hidden away in the depths of his subconscious. He knew that he’d be replaying those few minutes of his life over and over again in his dreams.
“Zayne stood, we’d been sitting on the couch in the suspect’s house, and I stood after him.” He took a deep breath. “Zayne moved towards the front door, and I turned to follow. I’d only gotten a few steps when I felt something against my back.”
“Oh shit,” Trish muttered. “We’re not going to like this, are we?”
“No,” he said. “I stopped, glanced over my shoulder, and saw that our suspect had pressed the barrel of a gun against me. Zayne turned and, for reasons I do not understand, crossed the living room swiftly. He grabbed my arm, yanked me out of the way before the suspect could react. He shoved me towards the door, turning back towards the gunman and before Zayne could disarm him, he pulled the trigger.”
He felt his gut clench as he said the words. Even here, in the lobby of the emergency room, he could smell the acrid bite of the gunpowder. And the blood. There was so much blood. Zayne’s blood. At times, he swore he could still feel it on his skin, sticky and hot.
“Jesus,” Trish muttered.
“Holy shit,” Hilary shouted.
“He got Zayne in the left shoulder, a mistake on the gunman’s part. He should have shot him in the right side.” A smile tickled his lips at the thought of what came next. “Zayne, enraged at being shot and running on adrenaline, jerked the gun out of the guy’s hand and cracked him in the head with it. It knocked him out cold. I believe Zayne was in shock.”
“Nah, that’s just Reyes in pissed off mode,” Trish laughed. “Not surprised he coldcocked the fucker who shot him.”
Andrej sighed heavily. “He’s being treated right now and, wait, I believe that is the doctor. I will call you back.”
Hanging up, he leapt to his feet and raced across the floor of the waiting room.
--
“Do we have to,” Zayne asked sleepily. He was still struggling against the sedative, having trouble shaking its effects.
“Only for a few minutes,” Andrej said, giving him that look, the one that said he’d better comply or there’d be consequences later. “The girls are worried about you.”
“And the narco?” He was on the fence on whether he wanted to see Rosewood right now or not. “Is he worried?”
“Jay is on his way here,” Andrej said, looking at his phone, responding to a text. “He insisted when I called to let him know you were awake and recovering.”
Zayne nodded. He really didn’t want company, but if they were going to let him go home tonight, then it was probably better that Zeklos had help. “Okay, let’s get this over with. I know that everyone in this place likely hates me right now.” Zeklos had informed him that, because he was being combative, they’d knocked him out to clean and suture his wounds. He was ashamed of his behavior, but he hadn’t been himself either.
Chuckling, Andrej shook his head. “They understood,” he said, resting a hand on Zayne’s arm. “You are a police officer who had been attacked and shot. It was only natural to be in battle mode. Although, we might want to send them something tomorrow, just in case.”
Nodding, Zayne agreed. “Okay, make the call before I throw up.”
Andrej gave him a wary look. “Please get that out of your system before I put you in my car.”
Laughing, Zayne winced when the action sent a bolt of pain through his body. “Damn, that hurts.”
“It will only get worse when the pain medication wears off, I’m afraid.” He initiated a video call to Hilary’s phone and waited.
“Is he okay,” she asked without even saying hello. “Let me see him, Andy.”
Turning his phone so that it faced Zayne, he heard both Hilary and Trish start to cry. Hilary, he had expected. Trish had been a surprise.
“Jesus,” Zayne groaned. “Do I look that bad?” He moved his fingers over his face, across his hair.
Hilary started to choke on her tears before they turned into laughter. “No asshole, we were just terrified we were going to lose you.”
She started to cry again, and Trish wrapped a supportive arm around her. “How are you feeling, Reyes?”
“Tired. Giddy. Like I’m going to hurl.” He shrugged with his good shoulder. “Typical from what they’ve told me.”
“Good,” Trish said. “Not sure it’d be the same without your dumb ass around making stupid jokes.”
Zayne smiled. “I love you, too, Rollins.”
“Whatever,” she said, winking. “Hil?”
“You know I love you, Zayne.” She dabbed at her eyes with a Kleenex. “Go home, get some rest, and let Andy take care of you.”
“Doesn’t Andy already take care of him,” Trish asked. “I was certain that was the only reason Reyes was still alive.”
“Yes,” Hilary confirmed, “but he’s going to be doing double duty now. Andy? Let us know if you need any help. Or a break, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed, not turning the phone towards himself. “Tell the girls goodnight, Zayne. I think I heard your doctor in the next cubicle.”
“Good night,” Zayne said, feeling emotion welling in his chest. “I’m sure Zek will keep you updated on my condition.”
“When can we come see you,” Hilary asked.
“I will call you in the morning,” Andrej said, finally turning the phone towards himself. “Depending on how he is feeling, I will let you know.”
“That’s good enough,” Hilary said. “Let us say goodbye.”
He turned the phone back in Zayne’s direction and they said their goodbyes. Andrej pocketed his phone, looking at Zayne for a moment.
Zeklos had an odd look on his face, one Zayne couldn’t place for a moment. That was when he became vaguely aware that he was crying. It didn’t mean anything, he told himself. It was the adrenaline dump, the shock of being shot. It was the girls’ fear and worry bouncing off of him. Hell, it could be the meds making him crazy. These tears didn’t mean shit.
He put his face in his hands and sobbed.
Zayne felt the bed dip and then a strong, familiar arm wrapped carefully around him. He leaned into Zeklos’ body, taking in all the quiet strength his partner projected. Zeklos was muttering softly in his ear, words that he didn’t understand, but knew were meant to comfort him all the same. More tears came, more intensely than before, when he realized how upset Zeklos must be if he were attempting to soothe Zayne in Romanian.
“Îmi pare rău,” he whispered, using one of the few phrases he’d learned over the years. I’m sorry. A phrase he now knew in three languages. One he probably ought to learn in several more.
“Nu,” was all Andrej could offer back, hand caressing Zayne’s face. “No,” he repeated, fighting to get control of himself and his English.
“Te iubesc,” Zayne countered. Next to I’m sorry, it was probably the most important phrase he’d learned in his boyfriend’s native tongue.
“Te amo,” Andrej replied in one of Zayne’s native tongues.
A smile crossed Zayne’s face at that. “You might learn some Spanish yet,” he teased.
“Aw, isn’t this sweet,” James said, entering the small cubicle they had Zayne stashed in. “Your doctor’s coming to discharge you, he told me which spot was yours.”
“Thanks, gingerbread,” Zayne said, accepting the gentle half-hug the redhead offered.
“How you feeling?” James shoved his hands into his pockets, watching Zayne closely.
“Just peachy,” Zayne laughed, wincing again at the pain that it caused. “But I’ll survive.”
“Glad to hear it,” the doctor said, parting the curtain and coming inside. “Who is going to accept responsibility for you?”
“That would be me,” Andrej said. “We live together so it makes the most sense.”
The doctor nodded and went over cleaning and caring for the wound in detail. Andrej, true to form, broke out the notebook he used during interviews and jotted down anything he thought to be important. “He ought to come back in a week for a recheck, just to make sure that the wound is healing. No need to make an appointment, but if you call ahead, one of the nurses can set aside a space to look at it. That way you won’t be waiting half the day to get seen.”
Andrej made a note of that and nodded. “I will make sure to call ahead.”
“And he’ll likely call four hours in advance,” Zayne added. “It’s how he is.”
The doctor chuckled and asked if they had any questions. Seeing as no one had any, he handed Zeklos a clipboard with papers to be signed. Once he’d completed them all and handed them back, a nurse came in pushing a wheelchair.
“Not sure she’ll be able to push your lard ass out of here, Reyes,” James teased.
“Go to hell, gingerbread,” he shot back, causing the nurse to bark out a laugh.
“How do you deal with these two,” she asked Andrej quietly.
“It is an exercise in extreme patience,” he whispered back.
“Believe it or not,” she told James, “I am stronger than I look.” With that, she helped Zayne off the exam table and into the wheelchair.
Andrej exited the emergency room to get his car. He was just pulling to the curb when the nurse pushed Zayne through the automatic doors, James close on her heels.
“Okay cowboy,” James said, hauling Zayne out of the chair and into Andrej’s car. “I’ll be right behind you guys. So, no more stupid and reckless behavior, okay cowboy?”
“Yeah, yeah, narco,” Zayne shot back. “No more idiotic acts out of me tonight.”
“I guess I can’t expect any more,” James said. His eyes flicked to Zeklos. “If you want, I can stay to make sure you’re not alone if he falls or does something else stupid.”
“Hey, I promised, no more stupid tonight,” Zayne protested.
“I meant accidentally stupid, not intentionally like earlier.”
“That would be fine,” Andrej said, stopping the inevitable argument before it could start. “See you at home.”
James nodded. He ruffled Zayne’s hair before quickly kissing his check. “Thank you for watching out for Andy.”
Zayne smiled, his heart swelling with pride and love. “It’s my job, narco. It’s what I do.”
