TITLE: Safety Screen

FANDOM: Jake 2.0

PAIRING: Jake/Kyle (cos I’ve finally lost it)

NOTES: Missing scene for ‘Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot’ aka The One Where Jake shoots Kyle. The loosest reference to ‘screen’ ever, but it’s there.

writers_choice: screen

“Lou, please…”

He’s not sure why he’s begging, isn’t entirely sure why he’s there. The night is blurring, and he doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol, the adrenaline or the shock, but Lou’s talking at him as if she expects answers. He has to give answers.

Because Kyle can’t.

“Jake, I know it’s been a long night, but I need to know what happened.”

Strip club. Initiation. Kyle. Shot. Bleeding. Left for dead.

He can’t speak, but he owes them the truth. He owes it to Kyle.

“They took me to a…bar. They cut the Wolf into my arm,” he touches at the mark, shivering though it’s not cold, “and then we were driving, and Kyle…he’s just thrown into the road.”

Lou moves closer, hovering by his chair, and he’s glad. He’s not sure he can keep talking, but he does, and the words start to lose meaning, as memory takes over.

“They beat him around, took him inside. I…watched. Kyle…he insists he’s alone, but they don’t believe him. They think…I’m working with him, and they pulled a gun. I said something, some bullshit about judging and deeds, and he hands me the gun.”

The metal was cool, he remembers, oddly cold. He held it carefully, studying it, then pointed it at his mentor. His partner. His best friend.

“They wanted me to kill him. He just…watched me.”

Pale green eyes, no hint of mischief now. Just something that could be betrayal, and perhaps a hint of…fear? He made Kyle afraid of him, and that thought sickens him. He wants to take it back. Can he take it all back, please?

“Lou, I don’t…”

“Jake, it’s alright. We need to know.”

“I shot him.”

The trigger was smooth, well-oiled, and the shot was true. Kyle flipped back, bleeding from his chest all over the tile. He didn’t move, not an inch, and for a moment, Jake thought he was dead. He’d killed Kyle. He’d murdered Kyle.

He’s babbling now, but he thinks Lou’s too shocked to care.

“Handcuffed him, a gag, and they let me. Just close enough to know he was breathing. We were leaving, and I looked back. I looked back.”

Couldn’t believe it was true, that his friend was bleeding out. That he couldn’t help, that he was walking away. But he’d promised, promised Kyle, that he’d see it through. He couldn’t break that promise, not now.

“Saw the cellphone, sent the message. And I followed them.”

He realises he’s crying, that his voice is raspy, but he has to finish this now. It all has to be told.

“They showed me the nuke, were gonna take it to Afghanistan. For Aubrey, they said. I lost it, I wasn’t thinking, tried to take them out. They caught me with the knife, and…you guys turned up.”

He smiles then, but it’s weak. He’s told his tale, now he wants to crawl away. Burying his head in his hands, he wonders if he’ll ever forget that image – Kyle, bleeding, left.

“Okay, Jake, we’re done here. I’m…going to the hospital, you want to come?”

A hollow laugh rings from his lips, because there’s nothing he wants more, but he can’t. He just…can’t.

“He doesn’t want to see me, Lou.”

She leans down to him, a hand resting on his shoulder. She’s so strong, he thinks. He could never be that strong.

“Jake, he’ll want to see you. And you need to see him. Come on, let’s go.”

He’s learnt to follow orders.

~

Standing outside a hospital room was probably not what Lou had in mind, but he’s past caring. There’s security in the screen, in the thick pane of glass dividing him from the man he shot, the man he…

There aren’t words to describe his feelings right now, but they’re stopping him from moving, barely allowing him to breathe. He knows what it’s like to love – he’s had Sarah all these years – and Diane raises jealousy in him like no one ever had before. But Kyle…

Here’s where he stops understanding. Because when he shot Kyle, it felt like he was destroying himself, ending something inside of him. He has no idea when they became this close, because there’s never been a warning shot, a sign, but he’s in some advanced stage of meltdown, and he doesn’t remember feeling this way ever.

That’s why he needs this screen, this divide. He can’t tell Kyle about this, can’t share it over a beer – ‘Hey man, guess I love you’ – because there are ways to lose your friends, and there are ways to destroy everything you ever had. He can’t go in there, because Kyle will see it all over his face, and he can’t stand to lose so much standing in those pale green eyes.

But he can’t stay away. Because he could have killed Kyle that night, perfect aim or not, and then what? To lose everything but really nothing, to have never crossed the line because he was too scared, too much of a coward? And he doesn’t kid himself – this could happen again, by his hand or someone else’s, but he’s already come too close to losing Kyle far more times than he’d like, but this time he’s going to do something.

Propelled by newfound conviction, he’s through the door and into the chair before he can lose his nerve. And he waits, with patience he didn’t know he possessed, but he waits. Because screens aren’t for NSA agents with too much to lose, right?

He carefully takes Kyle’s hand, and whispers, “Hoo-ah.”