The Rookie
Chapter Eighteen - Welcome Home Baby Girl
You and Javi give the Murphy's a chance to process the new addition while you play happy families.
Warnings: fluff, smoking, alcohol, swearing, angsty
Words: 4750
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Murphy unlocks the front door and pushes it open with his elbow. You can hear Connie moving around the kitchen, low music rumbling away.
“Honey?” Murphy calls out.
There is a clatter and a bang as a glass is thunked onto the counter, and Connie rushes out.
“Oh thank god, i called the office but they said you’d been out all day but had no idea-”
She trails off as she sees Murphy, head hung low, and clutching the baby, who is wide awake now and wriggling in Murphy’s arms.
Connie gasps and looks from the baby to Murphy and back again.
“Steve, what the fuck is this?”
You step out from behind Murphy as you shut the door with a low click, and wave awkwardly in Connies direction. She ignores you as her eyes narrow at Murphy and the baby. Her steely gaze holds his, until his features crumple and he deflates, shoulders going slack and fringe flopping into his eyes.
“Oh Steve,” Connie coos, rushing forward and wrapping Murphy and the baby in a warm embrace.
Murphy lets out a low groan, and you touch his shoulder gently, pulling him away from Connie and peering up at his red rimmed eyes.
“Here, Murph, lemme take her.”
Its your turn to take the baby from Murphy like he did from you earlier, and you take her into the kitchen to give the Murphy’s some privacy, as Connie wraps Murphy up in her arms as he starts to cry into her shoulder.
The baby is fussy, wriggling in your arms as you pace the kitchen with her, pointing out different objects and colors in an attempt to soothe her. You hear the front door rattle and open, Javi announcing his arrival with a loud, “Hello?”
You walk the baby back into the living room, Murphy and Connie no longer in there, but you notice the closed bedroom door and sobbing coming from within.
Javi raises his eyebrows and nods towards the door with a sheepish expression, “Connie not taking the news of a new addition well then?”
“I think that’s Murphy,” you grimace, and Javi snorts with a shake of his head.
“It’s getting to all of us eventually,” he mutters, before he shakes the grocery bags at the baby. “You hungry?”
“Starved,” you answer and he chuckles, emptying out the contents on the sofa. A multitude of diapers, creams, jars of food, formulas and even a stuffed toy cascade over the sofa and you stare at Javi in shock at him even knowing what to get.
“Had to ask the shopkeeper for help,” he grins sheepishly and you inhale deeply, eyeing the diapers.
“Ok, i’ll get her changed if you wanna get some food ready for her?”
“Um, sure.”
You set her down on the sofa, handing her the stuffed toy and thankfully she is distracted enough to let you change her out of her clothes and change her sodden diaper.
You dont want to put her back into her suit, sweat and probably her mothers blood on it, eager to throw it out and put her into something more comfortable when you tiptoe past Connie and Murphy’s bedroom into the spare room. You grin when you spy Murphy’s gym bag on the floor, and rummage through it, finding what you were looking for and bringing it back out to the living room. Placing Murphy’s old Princeton PD training tshirt on the sofa, you swaddle the baby into it and she settles again, cocooned safely.
“How did you know to do that?” Javi asks incredulously, and you blush at him as you pick up the baby.
“Lots of baby cousins,” you explain and he nods in disbelief. “You got the food?”
“Yeah, I think so, I got milk here from this formula, and I got some Plum and Pear mush here.”
You just look at what Javi is holding and frown.
“I don’t think shes old enough to know how to sip from a cup, but we can try her on the ‘mush’ I guess.”
You hold your hand out for the jar and spoon, but he says, “you hold her and I can feed her.”
You nod silently and settle yourself into the sofa, turning the baby so she is crooked comfortably in your arm. She obediently opens her mouth, searching for the food, chubby little hands grasping at the spoon when she is fed, and contended, happy coos lead you to believe she's enjoying Javi’s choice of dinner. He smiles while he feeds her, even making you laugh when he pretends to be an airplane flying food into land in her mouth and your heart aches. Seeing him acting so natural with a baby gives you a dopamine rush, probably a delayed reaction from the emotional day.
She eats quickly, obviously hungry after today's events and her eyes start to droop the second Javi finishes feeding her the entire jar. Javi lifts her wordlessly from your arms and walks her into the spare room, setting her in the middle of the bed. He pulls pillows from the head of the bed, and sofa cushions from the living room and makes a soft wall around the bed to act like a buffer for her should she move. She's out cold the second she's laid down so you doubt she'll move much, especially while swaddled the way you’ve done it.
You watch the two of them from the door frame, admiring the gentle way Javi deals with the baby and the care he puts into making sure she's safe. It's a far cry from what you normally do, and even further from this afternoon; Murphy and Javi chasing after sicarios on foot in a mission they weren't even supposed to be on while you cried over two dead bodies left behind.
He settles himself on the edge of the bed, watching her for a moment before he turns and notices you standing there.
"You OK?"
"Yeah," you smile, heat flushing your face, "just watching how good you are with her."
"Lotta baby cousins," he mimics, shrugging as the tips of his ears go red as he looks at his shoes.
Your smile drops as you sigh, rubbing the back of your neck before you change the subject.
"I need to go, need to be home,a bottle deep before today sinks in and hits me like a freight train. And we need to call CNP, and need to give these two space to get their plan sorted," you cross your arms and nod in the direction of Connie and Murphy's room.
"I'll call it in now, you get those two."
You nod and turn towards the opposite bedroom door as Javi heads towards the phone in the kitchen.
You knock on the door, and you're answered with silence.
"Guys?" you ask the door, as you hear Javi's muffled tones from the kitchen telling you he's through to someone on the other end.
"OK, I'm coming in," you call tentatively, placing your hand on the cool doorknob and turning, pushing open the door with your shoulder.
The room is dark, a lamp in the corner providing the only source of light. It illuminates Connie standing between Murphy's legs, sitting on the edge of the bed, his head against her stomach, arms wrapped tightly around her and she has her arms draped over his shoulders. She is stroking his head, methodical strokes of his mussed blonde hair.
You clear your throat and Connie opens her eyes and throws a tired, sympathetic smile your way.
"We're gonna give you guys some space, we've changed her and fed her and she's down on the bed, out for the count."
"Thank you so much, we appreciate it."
You turn to leave when Murphy speaks.
"Rookie?"
His voice wavers and he swallows audibly as he shifts in Connie's hold, blinking up at you.
"I know we all need to talk about what happened today, but gimmie a few days to get sorted."
You nod and watch as Connie pulls him to his feet, before moving past you, giving your fingers a quick squeeze and a grateful smile, as Murphy follows her, ushering you out the door, closing it behind you.
"What are your plans?"
Murphy rubs his jawline slowly, peering down at you from his close proximity in the dimly lit space.
"Dunno, think we wanna keep her. Need to go through logistics but she's alone, and I can check she's no extended family, but I just have a good feeling about her, ya know? Connie feels the same and she's not even held her yet, I just wanted to put the idea past her so we really need to talk about it properly and see what legal hoops we need to jump through."
Your eyebrows shoot up in astonishment, surprised at how sure Murphy sounds about his plan.
"Good for you man," you whisper, clapping him on the back and squeezing his arm.
"Thanks Rookie."
You move slowly into the living room, spying Javi's broad shoulders filling the doorway to the spare room, his arm loosely round Connie's shoulders as she watches the baby.
Murphy nudges you lightly with an elbow, and you look up at him, eyes intent on yours.
"Are you and Javi gonna be OK now?" he asks in a hushed tone.
"I guess," you shrug, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. "You heard about as much as I did earlier. Guess we need to do some talking too."
"Give him a chance."
"I told him I would, we can behave like grownups sometimes, but we'll see how this conversation goes whenever we have it. I'm assuming you know what happened between us?"
"Not hard to read the room, it's my job. And you're as transparent as glass, fucking hazing Javi Peña? That was never gonna work."
"Coulda fooled me," you wink at him and he laughs, pulling you into a typical Murphy bone-shattering hug.
"Give yourself a chance," he whispers into your ear, "you're trying so hard to prove yourself to everyone else you're forgetting to put yourself first."
Your heart skips a beat as you mull his words over, brows furrowed, and Murphy let's you go, slipping past you and moving to the doorway opposite to look in on the baby too. Javi slides out of the way for Murphy to take the space and catches your eye, nodding towards the front door.
Your hand is on the deadbolt when Murphy says incredulously, "is that my fucking gym shirt?" and you open it, heaving the heavy door open and smiling widely as you step into the corridor, Javi muttering goodbyes as he follows you out.
He lives two floors above Murphy, the beige walls of the common corridor the same on both floors, monotonous and ugly. The paper is peeling in the corner closest to Murphy's front door and you can't help but look at the curling paper, yellowing with age.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot," Javi says gravely, turning to look at you head on, dark eyes focused intently on yours in the shabby hallway.
"Can I borrow your phone to call for a cab home?"
"Sure," he smirks. "Only if you stay for a drink first."
You grin at him despite yourself, heart settling in your chest, familiar words from a familiar soul, and after a beat, you nod hesitantly.
"One, I swear to god Javi, that's it."
You point at him sternly, but your grin gives you away and he raises his hands, surrendering to you with his own lopsided grin.
You follow him up the stairs and into his apartment. He shirks his worn leather jacket off and throws it over the back of a chair at the table.
He offers you the packet of cigarettes before disappearing into the kitchen area to fix you a drink and you slide into one of the straight backed chairs, pulling a cigarette from the pack, inhaling deeply as you light it.
You feel instant relief, and while your immediate thought is that it's because you havent smoked all day and you're finally getting one, a part of you pushes the thought forward that it's because you're here, with Javi, somewhere safe with someone special. You push the thought away as quickly as it forms, not wanting to face the emotions that come with accepting a feeling like that, as Javi comes back into the room, holding two tumblers of whiskey, setting one in front of you. He thumps down into the chair closest to you, knees bumping against each other under the table. You're reminded of the blood stains covering your jeans once again and you take a large gulp of the smoky whiskey, followed by a deep inhale, thinking about this afternoon, closing your eyes softly to stop yourself from seeing the events play out before you again.
"You OK?" Javi asks, deep voice infiltrating your busy mind.
"Yeah," you sigh, snapping your eyes open again, putting the tumbler back onto the table, toying at the edge of the glass with your fingers. "Just, one hell of a day."
Javi grabs your hand, gently slipping his fingers between your own as he pulls your hand away from your glass, leaving them both intertwined on the tabletop. You stare at them, his golden skin glowing compared to your own, tired skin. You don't feel like you fit into your own skin right now; it feels like a coat you want to shed, not quite right for who you are.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
"I dunno, what's to talk about? Another shit show of a day, but one of a million shit shows day after day, and I didn't help us. Where the fuck do I start?"
Javi grimaces as your voice breaks, squeezing your fingers tightly, which reassures you slightly, calming your heart which has picked up in speed.
"Why don't we talk about the panic attack?" he says carefully, watching for your reaction.
It jars you, being reminded of your weakness in the crisp light of his living room ceiling light, pointing out that you can't handle the stressful pace of the day to day of your job. Your eyes brim with tears and you freeze, swallowing a lump forming in your throat, afraid to open your mouth and speak incase the tears fall.
"Oh cariño, I'm sorry, I just thought it might help to talk about it."
He gets up from his space moving toward you and pushing your chair back to face him. You just have time to plant the cigarette into the ashtray when he pulls you into a hug, crushing you against his taut ribs, arms tight around your shoulders. You press your hands into the small of his back, inhaling deeply and smelling musky sweat and his cologne, but it's a comforting smell, grounding you and calming you. He rubs your shoulder as you just stay connected, and you focus on the smell of him, the smell you realize you've missed over the past few weeks.
"I'm sorry," you mumble into his shirt.
"What?"
"I'm sorry," you say more clearly, pulling back but not unhooking your arms from around his waist, looking into his concerned eyes.
He waits for you to elaborate, and you chew your bottom lip.
"For everything. For today, I shouldn't have put us in that position. I'm sorry for the panic attack. I'm sorry for being a dick the past few weeks instead of just talking to you. I'm sorry-"
"Why are you apologizing for having a panic attack?"
"Coz you shouldn't have had to pull me out of it, I can normally sort myself out, but I know it was unprofessional to have a fucking breakdown mid-shift, especially where we were."
Javi looks genuinely perplexed, hands still rubbing gently at your shoulder as he looks intently into your face.
"Hemosa, we're way past professional at this point don't you think? And why should you pull yourself out of it? You can ask for help when you need it."
You snort, dropping your gaze to look at the sliver of his bronzed belly visible to you between the buttons on his shirt.
"I shouldn't be asking for help when I'm the one who caused the panic in the first place. If I didn't put us in that position, I wouldn't have been thinking about Natalie and that baby, and why we were there in the first place. It was all my fault."
Javi waits for a moment, carefully calculating his words.
"If you hadn't been doing surveillance on the house, we wouldn't have known Natalie was killed. We wouldn't have been there to stop those fuckers from killing that baby. And Connie and Steve wouldn't have a new chance at a family right about now. And I wouldn't have been able to help you when you needed me the most."
You shove Javi away roughly, embarrassment reddening your face at the mention of your panic attack once more and tears brim in your eyes again as you look at him, wounded puppy eyes on you as he stumbles backwards. The emotions flood your brain and your reaction surprises even you, as you screech, "I don't need you to help me Javi. I don't want you to help me, I don't need you to know I need your help, or I even have panic attacks in the fucking first place!"
The tears burst and fall down your face as you ball your hands into fists and slam the table, making the tumblers jump and clink against the wood. You put your face into your hand, wiping away the tears ferociously as your heart rate picks up and pounds in your chest.
"Why?" he asks like a petulant school child. "Why should you face something like that alone when I can help you?"
"Because I don't want you to think I'm weak!" you shove him again in his chest, making him take a step back and you don't care that you're pushing him away, metaphorically and physically. You've done this before, you can handle it, and you can ignore the panic when it rises in your chest like a bear until it hibernates away again until the next load of shit comes barrelling in to cause another one. "I don't want you to have to worry about the fucking Rookie on top of everything else we do, that she can't handle a bit of stress in the job. It's the job, it comes with the territory. It'll happen again. And you shouldn't have to worry about whether or not I'm fit to do it, or always watch out for me incase I have a breakdown every time I see a dead body, or another kid sucked into this mess, or Carrillo shouts at me at bit too often in the middle of a raid. Coz I can handle it. I know I can."
Javi reaches out for you, but you shove his arm away, tears rolling down your cheeks freely yet again today, fuelled by the embarrassment of this situation. He pulls you in anyway, letting your fists strike him as he pulls you into a standing hug, squeezing you so tightly the breath puffs out of your lungs with a tiny exhale. Your strikes become more feeble as he holds you, until your arms just drop, and allow yourself to be enveloped by Javi, squeezing you and stroking your hair.
"You can't help but worry about the shit in this job," he whispers in his gravelly voice into your ear. "That makes you human. But worrying about the shit you can't control is anxiety. Crippling anxiety. And you shouldn't have to face that alone. So I'll be here. Every fucking time cariño. Coz it hurts me to see you hurting. So I'll be here."
You just let yourself be held, Javi's words soothing you and calming you down. He always knows exactly what you say to you. You feel foolish for your outburst but ignore it, allowing yourself to be comforted by his muscular arms holding you up, letting your tears stop and your heartbeat slow down again. You sniff and Javi pulls back, not letting you go and looks intently into your eyes with his chocolate ones.
He smiles gently at you, using his thumb to brush stray tears away from your cheeks. He holds your jaw in his hands, cupping it and sending a shiver down your spine, as he leans forward and plants a kiss on your forehead.
You inhale deeply, a shudder running through you.
You don’t know what it is but feel an inexplicable urge to lean just a tiny bit forward and plant your lips on his.
They’re soft and pliant and give way when you push yourself onto him, his mouth opening gently for you as you poke your tongue into his mouth. Your tongues dance and you both lean in deeper to the kiss, Javi dropping his hands. When one cups your elbow lightly, and one’s skates down your waist you jump and pull back, licking your lips and swallowing audibly. His pupils are blown wide, staring into yours imploringly, mouth agape, as if waiting for you to do that again. But you can’t. You can’t do this. You don’t know what came over you. You avert his gaze when you mumble about needing to head home now, turning away. The hand still clutching your elbow squeezes you lightly and you stop when he says, "I can't let you go when you're like this."
"I'm OK now, thanks Javi."
"I don't think you are."
You snort and roll your eyes, shoving him playfully and eliciting a grin from him which you respond to wholeheartedly with your own.
"Why do you always see me at my worst?"
"I don't think I do," he winks at you, serious eyes despite the playful grin. He lifts the tumblers from the table and walks them into the kitchen to place into the sink.
With his back to you, he says, "Stay here tonight. Let me look after you."
He turns, holding a hand out to you, eyes expectant and honest on yours.
“Javi I can’t,” you sigh, rubbing your lips, still tingling from your impromptu kiss. “I don’t know why I did that but I’m sorry and-“
He moves closer to you, pulling your hand from your side and intertwining your fingers, eyes gazing deeply into your soul.
“It’s OK hermosa.”
You’re frozen in spot and he tugs at you gently, encouraging your feet to move.
Your mouth falls open, words already forming to say how this isn't a good idea when he grimaces, pulling you closer to him so he can rasp into your ear.
“Life’s too short to give a shit, especially this fucked up life we live in Columbia.”
“Javi that’s not an excuse to-“
"Not like that,” he shakes his head, internal cogs moving so much you can tell he’s trying to come up with something to say so you don’t bolt like a deer caught in the headlights. “Nothing will ever happen between us that you don’t want. I won’t ever put you in that position. But right now, we both need to sleep and forget about today. Then we've an early start, especially with the new information we've got. But I need to make sure you’re OK."
You pull away from him, eyes shining.
This is your Javi again. The gentle soul, hidden behind his hard shell who will do everything he can to protect you, even if you’ve probably fucked it up again by kissing him. It just felt so right, but now you’re terrified it’s going to tear another piece of the fabric off your relationship that you can’t fix. But you trust him. And if he says he’ll never put you in an uncompromising position then you have no reason to distrust him. It won’t happen again, Javi doesn’t want it to, that’s his gentle way of saying it, and you feel so heavy from the emotion of today you know you need to sleep, stopping you from doing more random acts like kissing your friend? Thank god he’s not pushing you for reasons as to why you would do something crazy like that. So you drop it, another thing you really need to address soon but you push it away and change the subject.
"New information?"
"Maybe not important, but it confirms a few things."
"What does?"
He ignores you, pulling you down the hallway towards his bedroom, and your heart picks up speed again, trusting him despite the last time you walked this hall together. He's right; it's late, and you're absolutely exhausted after today, after every day, and a good night's sleep will do you wonders.
"Want me to sleep on the sofa?"
"No," he stalls just as he arrives at the bedroom door, pushing it open with his hip. It's swamped in moonlight streaming through the curtains and it looks warm and inviting despite the cool color palette. "Want me to sleep on the sofa?"
You shake your head, and walk through the doorway, pulling him with you. He moves to the chest of drawers, rifling through it as you sink on the bed, exhaustion taking over and you yawn widely.
"Here," Javi hands you a worn tshirt and you let him pull you to your feet again with a groan. You traipse onto the bathroom and step out of today's clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor where you stand, too tired to be polite and put them anywhere else right now. With Javi's loose cotton tshirt draped over your frame, you splash water onto your face when you see your reflection in the mirror, grimacing at your red rimmed eyes and tear streaked face.
When you re-emerge into the bedroom, Javi is already in bed, broad, bare shoulders poking out of the top of the covers, arm tucked under his head as he lounges on his side, facing outwards with his eyes closed. You clamber into the crisp, cool sheets behind him and sigh contentedly as you slide down into a more comfortable position on your back.
"What were you saying about new information?" you whisper into the darkness.
Javi doesn't answer for a moment and you think he must be asleep already when he rolls round to face you. The moonlight shows you his features, bathed in a cool glow, and his eyes are like beacons in the dark, shining brightly and pulling you in.
"It's kids. That's how they've been getting away before now. Kids are helping them escape. I was on top of Poison when a kid pulled a gun on me."
You gasp, clamping a hand over your mouth. You were having a meltdown over nothing and Javi had been dealing with not only chasing sicarios, but having to handle kids with guns now too?
"Fuck, Javi, sorry, I didn't even ask you what happened."
He shrugs and continues. "At least we know there's no moles inside the embassy. At least for now. There's kids on the ground, hidden in plain sight helping Escobar."
You shake your head, mind whirring with this new information.
"How the hell can we stop him if he's got a network of kids spotting for him?"
"That's a problem for tomorrow," Javi sighes, closing his eyes and shutting down the conversation. You think for a few minutes, before exhaustion kicks in and tries to pull you under, muddling your thoughts.
You shuffle forward in the bed, trying to inch silently closer to Javi's warm body, when he smirks and rolls onto his back, throwing his arm out towards you. He jerks his head and you grin as you slide into the crook of his arm and chest, tucking yourself against him and poking your cold toes under his bare legs. You splay your hand across his stomach, holding onto him tightly, and you brush the waistband of his boxers as you rest your hand on his hip, blushing slightly.
"Goodnight cariño," he murmurs into your temple, kissing you there lightly, and you're not even sure if you say it back as you drift into a dreamless sleep, wrapped in his arms and entangled in his body.
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