Chapter Text
“On god, I’mma kill you if we get out of this alive!” Bullets whizzed through the air, exploding on impact with anything and everything in their path. A small group of men — no more than three or four — shouted what Carter assumed were various commands to kill them and get out of dodge.
“Stop whining and shoot!” Yelled Lee, sliding him a magazine beneath the hailstorm of bullets. They were parallel behind two Roman columns. Or at least, what was left of two very old, very expensive columns. Chunks came away in a spray of marble every odd second.
Lee can’t help but be relieved that it wasn’t his culture suffering irreparable artistic losses in the crossfire. He could only handle many foolhardy gunmen and meaningless territorial disputes. No, the target of their stakeout was a private warehouse, recently acquired by a charitable investor abroad. European, well-educated, and invested in the preservation of Italian antiquities. This sort of thing honestly wouldn’t have been their problem if not for a string of familiar faces milling about. The good thing about having a liaison from Hong Kong, especially one with a knack for faces, was that Lee could pick out bad company. Power changed hands, but rarely did the bottom rung move more than ‘left’ or ‘right’.
Carter flinched as the ground next to him sparked. He flattened himself against the surface and drew a large breath, finger poised on the trigger. At least half of them were equipped with a standard 32-clip SMG. Those had an average rate of 10 bullets per second. It stood to reason that it’d be three seconds and change before the magazines unloaded.
One, two…
Carter dove across between pillars and pulled the trigger. A body hit the ground as Lee seized him by the arm and pulled him into cover. The remaining two goons made up for the lack of manpower with more lead.
“You got an extra clip? I’m almost out.” Carter panted. Lee frowned and shook his head.
“What you got left?” Asked the younger Detective, pointedly ignoring how tightly they were squeezed in together. Lee popped the chamber one-handed, and two slugs falling into his palm.
“Two rounds.”
Carter, with less flourish, pulled the clip from his Beretta and checked.
“I got one.”
“There’s two of them left.” Offered the Inspector. Carter blinked at him, and then nodded, understanding what was being put down. They’d gotten good at this part.
“So if I go this way…” The younger man started, gesturing.
“And I go that way—” Confirmed Lee, leaning in the opposite direction.
“We can take ‘em out on the reload… or die horrible deaths.”
“Yes.” Lee said, honest to a fault. Carter shrugged.
“Shit, good enough for me.” Carter maneuvered around the older man, getting into a position they could agree on. Less in Lee’s lap and more to his left. He could think about that later— or well— NOT think about it. This was the kind of shit that gave people early onset heart problems.
“On my signal we go up.” Lee directed firmly. Scared out of his wits, but determined to do it anyway. It was one of the many things about him that Carter liked, even aspired to. Right now? He was scared shitless. It took everything from a pinch to prayer to keep from clamming up, to be brave. His partner was better at hiding it than him, but his face could never lie: Lee was terrified. That meant Carter was in good company.
Three, two…
“NOW!” They shouted in unison. Both men darted from their hiding place and shot. Two bodies dropped. Only one made any indication of life, SMG forgotten as he clutched his bloody leg. Lee bounded toward the remaining man, gun drawn.
“Don’t move, you are under arrest.” The henchman moaned and sagged in resignation. Lee spared a glance in his partner’s direction. “Did you call backup?”
“Yeah. We ain’t white though so. That’ll be another two hours.” Lee gave him an annoyed look. “… They’re on the way. We made out pretty good though.”
CRASH!
Both men locked eyes and turned slowly. One column tipped into the other like something out of a Buster Keaton movie, sending both to the ground in an explosion of dust and broken rock.
“It was like that when we got here?” Lee explained. Carter nodded enthusiastically, stepping as far as possible from the shattered marble. At least the bad guys didn’t have to write reports. Or deal with the city. You at least knew what you were getting into when you walked into dens of gangsters and smugglers.
“What are we standing around for? We got suspects to bring in.” Carter looked around the depot and whistled. Splintered crates, broken statues, dead bodies, and a whole lot of money down the drain. Considering how much cocaine he and Lee dug out of said crates before the bullets started flying, he ventured a healthy guess that the man at the top of all this would have a lot of explaining to do.
“Suspect. The other two are dead.” Lee slapped the cuffs on the man for good measure.
“Let’s see what he knows.” Suggested Carter, gesturing at their new arrest, who now that he thinks about it, probably won’t be walking on that leg anytime soon. Lucky him though, because Carter always aimed for center mass. Lee turned and started digging in his coat pocket for his cell.
“Let me call the Consulate. I’ll need to pull his passport.”
Carter saw movement from the corner of his eye, and what happened next was a lot like fireworks:
“LEE—!”
It started with a ‘bang’.
The world went into slow-motion for Lee, who was suddenly shoved back as Carter dropped like a stone. As much a reflex as it was the product of his years, Lee snatched his gun and fired in the direction of what put his partner down. The bullet struck true, and a fourth man fell to the floor dead. That did not change the fact that Carter wasn’t getting up.
“Carter!” Screamed Lee. He then dropped his gun and knelt at his partner’s side, rolling him onto his back. He’d barely begun to touch him before his fingers came back with blood, so much blood. “Carter!”
The younger man groaned and opened his eyes, glassy and unfocused. Disoriented, but alive.
“You get ‘im?” Carter croaked sluggishly. Nevermind that there was now a .45 caliber sized hole in his left shoulder. Lee could punch him, if he wasn’t a hair’s breadth away from losing it altogether. Now was the time for focus.
“You have to stay awake.” The Inspector snatched his tie and quickly wrapped it around his fist, putting pressure on the wound. Carter squirmed weakly and hissed, but made little other sound, and that scared Lee more.
“Why would you do that?” Lee bit back bile as he moved his partner up against one of the crates. They encountered impossible, even absurd dangers, and came out on the other side. Bruised and bludgeoned, but breathing. That was the arrangement. This? His partner, gushing blood on the floor of some nondescript warehouse? It was anything but.
“Partners.” Carter said blearily. Before Lee could begin to think of what to say to that, the younger man had reached up and covered Lee’s bloody hand with his. “I got your back.”
“You’re not supposed to be hurt.” Lee’s voice wobbled, a treacherous strain of weakness. It was childish and frail, unbecoming of an officer with his marks. The Juntao syndicate had taken the heritage of Hong Kong hostage and in its lust for possession for possession’s sake, it had taken his former partner too. They got on well. Liked the same beer and cheered for the same basketball teams. Most vital: They could spend weeks living out of each other’s desk drawers and part ways, unattached. They were professionals, and little else seemed to matter when chasing a quarry so grand. A bust that would cement them in history. What Lee hadn’t known was that there was more than one way to make history. He attended the funeral in his dress uniform, met with the wife and child of the man whom he’d spent years refusing to know.
“S’ okay. Was my turn to be the hero.” The slug hadn’t gone all the way through, which was markedly good news for his chances of survival. The problem was that it was still inside, and it wouldn’t get out by itself. There was also the issue of the bleeding. Even small movements seemed to spill blood.
“Don’t speak.” The Inspector took his wadded tie, tacky with blood, and wound it around Carter’s shoulder, tying it tight.
“I’m not gon’ die.” Carter, for all his braggadocio, was trying his best to keep cool among the overlapping strains of fire licking away at him. He tried to move his arm and the edges of his world pulsed and darkened. “Lord. I might die— What’s the ETA on that ambulance?”
Lee’s face hardened, decision made.
“I’m not waiting. Can you stand?” The older man did not wait for an answer to that question before he flanked Carter’s uninjured side and hooked an arm under his, pulling him up. Jesus, Lee was strong. That shouldn’t surprise him. After all, he’s seen the man naked… Dear god, don’t let his last thoughts be about his very naked, very toned partner. Dying on the verge of some gay crisis wasn’t at all how James Carter anticipated going out.
Carter’s legs buckled like a newborn foal’s, but he didn’t crumple. Small favors. He can blame the blood loss if he starts getting any dizzier. Meanwhile, Lee has smoothed his nerves into a more manageable shape. What energy didn’t go into hefting his— heavier than he looked— partner out of the door went into mental triage. Find the car, get Carter into the car, get him to the hospital, savehimsavehimsavehim.
“Lee.” If Carter could, he would’ve snapped to get his attention.
“Mm?” Lee looked around the lot, spotting the sleek black chrome of Carter’s corvette a short distance away.
“Hurtin’...” Carter had all but sagged against his side, cold and clammy to the touch.
“Hang on. We’re almost to the car.” Lee assured absently, still a million miles a minute into his mind. Carter gripped his bicep hard.
“Talk to me.” Carter pleaded. Whether for his sake or Lee’s: He’d go to his grave with the answer. “You ever been shot?”
“Once.” Not the answer Carter was expecting. Lee dodged bullets like it was a fact of life, rather than something that put you on the news. It was hard to imagine any version of him that would be caught off his game, occupational hazards be damned.
“Where?”
“If I say, you won’t believe me.”
“Tell me somethin’. I’m woozy.”
“I got shot in the foot.” Admitted Lee, still embarrassed after all this time. He’d been much like his current partner in those days, hungry for action and too free spirited for his own good.
“You’re lying.” Carter’s eyes narrowed. It occurs to Lee that they’re quite beautiful, up close like this.
“I’m not. Keys?”
“Right pocket. You’re gonna tell me that story if I make it.” Lee slid his hand into Carter’s pocket and pulled out the key ring.
“I’ll tell you that and the other ones. Keep pressure on the wound.” He loads his partner into the passenger’s side and slides across the hood to save time getting in. Carter doesn’t look good, skin shining with perspiration under the lampposts. He looks dull and muted, so unlike the bright young man who brought life and color to the Inspector’s black and white lines of procedure. Before Lee can think better of it, he’s shrugging off his suit jacket and putting it over Carter’s shoulders. The younger man’s mouth twists gratefully, and for a minute it looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t — can’t. He doesn't need to.
“You’re going to make it.” Lee said it with such conviction that there was no choice but to believe him. Forget what they both knew about his odds. That this kind of rapid blood loss was more consistent with an arterial bleed, and that his window only shortened with time.
“Don’t scratch my car.” Carter grunts, face pinched with pain.
Over the roaring engine, Lee says:
“No promises.”
The wind lashed at their faces as the convertible shot through LA streets. Lee was driving too fast to read any signs, guided only by Carter’s occasional left-right dictation and swearing when they hit potholes. It was a touch of lucidity that staved off the great big elephant on the road.
“You didn’t have to do that.“ Lee furiously runs a hand through dark hair, all nerves.
“Yeah man, I did.” Carter mumbled with some irritation. A good thing: If he was annoyed, then he was alive. “Don’t you apologize now.”
“Thank you.” There it goes again, the pinprick behind the eyes and the bitter-salt tang of pre-emptive grief. “You’re my best friend, you know?”
Carter’s lips were drawn tight, throat working. “Ask me later and I’mma lie like a motherfucker, but you’re the real deal… I wanted to be like you for a change.”
“Don’t be like me.” Lee paid no mind to Carter’s surprised face, continuing, “Be yourself. Be James Carter… He’s the ‘real deal’ too.” At that, Carter blinked sluggishly, averting his eyes. If Lee heard him sniffle, he said nothing of it.
“Yeah, yeah. You're my best friend too. Now turn up the radio, ‘fore I fall asleep.” As commanded, Lee flicked the switch and turned the dial. Gentle vocalizations filled the car stereo as Carter leaned back in his seat, recognition on his face. He liked this one.
Good morn or evening friends: Here’s your friendly announcer
I have serious news to pass on to everybody
“What I’m about to say could mean the world’s disaster…” Carter mumbled along, head lolling. It’s a terrible time, but Lee is reminded of how lovely a voice the man has under the outrageous humor and exaggeration.
Could change your joy and laughter to tears and pain
It’s that love’s in need of love today
A mile more and they’d reach the hospital. Carter just needed to fight off the cloud of exhaustion settled over him. No one ever talks about how comfortable it is. Like sinking into a mattress made for you, takes the weight right off.
Don’t delay, send yours in right away.
Lee floored the gas and took the gear up another notch. They’d long broken the law on this impromptu trip, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered more than his partner.
Hate’s goin’ round
Breaking many hearts.
Half a mile. Two minutes, if that. Lee looked Carter’s way and his stomach sank at the sight. His usually expressive face had started to go slack. Lee wanted to scream.
“Carter!” Carter perked up at his name, head lolling. His limbs were getting heavier and it took all his strength to respond. Luckily, they were rolling into the bay of the ER between one blink and the next. Lee didn’t bother to do a proper parking job before he got out and all but dragged Carter from his seat.
“Mm…” Carter breathed shallowly, swimming in and out of awareness as he was pulled.
“Awake. Carter please—“ The Inspector begged, tears freely falling now. They were twenty feet from the entrance. Carter was little more than a sluggish collection of limbs at this point. All that he knew was the older man’s distressed face, knitted with worry and care. That was just Lee and his big heart. A heart which he’d somehow carved a place in, to be moved by no force on heaven and earth. That reminded him:
Carter jerked sideways into his partner, planting a wet kiss along the corner of Lee’s mouth as they staggered through sliding doors. It had all but stopped the older man, who looked at him with big wet eyes.
“What was that for?” Whispered a bewildered Lee, fingers touching where Carter’s lips had just been.
“Just…being polite.” Carter grinned, before promptly passing out in Lee’s arms.