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This has been the longest day of Lev’s life.
He doesn’t think anything could ever feel better than the relief that washed over him when he finally saw Daphne stride out of the building, Jeremy Davis in tow. Lev instinctively slotted in next to her and secured the man from the other side, eager to do his part to bring this nightmare to a close.
However, that sweet relief quickly morphed back into unease when he finally got a good look at his partner.
Ever since she left the building, Daph hasn’t given him more than a passing glance. Once she assured their suspect was safely in custody, she had immediately glued herself to Karadec’s side. She trailed him silently as he completed his checklist, her arms rigid and her eyes downcast.
It’s been almost an hour since they left and she’s still standing at attention besides Karadec, who’s finishing up addressing a few officers. The taller of the two nods in respect as he finishes and Karadec returns it curtly. Daphne doesn’t move. As the officers retreat, Karadec turns to his junior detective. Lev is too far away to hear exactly what he says to Daph, but he can’t miss how his partner flinches at the head detective’s words. She only nods in return, her eyes glassy. It seems to satisfy Karadec though, as the man turns away from her to make a beeline towards Morgan and her daughter. Daphne watches him go, seemingly frozen in place without her superior guidance for a moment. She snaps out of it though and, after a quick scan of the surroundings, finally begins to move. She mechanically past the remaining officers, past the ambulance, past the gathered crowd. She only slows down once she reaches a secluded corner of the lot, tucked away from prying eyes. She gently settles herself down on the curb, her lips pressed tightly together.
Lev watches her warily from a distance, hoping that she just needs a moment alone to compose herself. But the longer she sits, the more he can’t hold himself back.
Something is very wrong.
Daph is his partner. His other half. They put their lives in each other’s hands every single day. He knows her habits, her mannerisms, the way she holds herself. He knows every little thing about her - her coffee order, the way she scrunches her nose when she's concentrating, hell even the fact that she only eats the tops of muffins because she thinks the bottoms ‘taste weird’. He knows her better than anyone, than anything, than even himself.
And that’s why he can't pull his gaze away from her.
Her hands are clasped together so hard that her knuckles are beginning to turn white. Her lips are pursed just as tightly, drained of blood as well. The worst part, however, is her eyes. They’re completely unfocused, her gaze vacantly fixated on the pavement beneath her feet.
It's not right.
Even if they’ve been combing through evidence for hours, and it’s so late that even Karadec has gone home, her eyes never glaze over. No matter how awful the case, how long it takes, how tedious the process, Daph always stays sharp. Even when Lev himself is faltering, his partner’s focus never wavers. Not even for a second.
But looking at her right now, that couldn't be further from the truth. She looks so defeated. Fragile. Broken. All things that he never thought his partner could be.
Lev’s feet are moving before he can even realize what he’s doing.
He forces himself to slow as he approaches her. He’s positive she can feel the anxiety radiating off of him as he gently settles down on the curb next to her, this shoulder barely grazing hers. It takes a moment for her to notice that she’s no longer alone, the realization of his presence causing her to flinch. It makes Lev’s heart ache. However when she sees it’s him, some of the tension in her figures melts away. Her shoulders drop, and the pained grimace that was gracing her face loosens, if only a little bit.
“Hey Oz.” She blinks rapidly as she greets him, but her eyes are still too cloudy to put Lev at ease.
“You okay?”
Daphne’s gaze flickers over to the dispersing crowd. “Everything is just about wrapped up. Paramedics checked over everyone. Tom’s going to be fine after a few days in the hospital. Melon is good besides some wrist abrasions and a bruised ego. Everyone else was unharmed.”
“That’s all great, but I asked if you were okay.” He attempts to be playful with it, but fuck, he can’t hide the concern that drips out. Daphne must hear it too, as her nose wrinkles slightly. Innocuous for anyone else, but a telltale sign that she’s not happy.
He hates it when she does it.
“I’m fine, Oz. Thank you for checking in.” Her voice is too level, too controlled. It’s not real. It’s like she’s at a press briefing, putting on a composed facade for the cameras. Lev tries to catch her eye but she refuses to look at him, her gaze still pointedly fixed on the ground.
He knows he should probably just shut up and take a step back, let her open up to him when she’s ready. But he just can’t bring himself to do that. Something’s wrong. He’s seen his partner after countless cases, ranging from petty robberies to full blown homicides and everything in between. But he’s never seen her like this.
He knows his partner better than anyone, and he knows that she’s not okay.
“Did you go see the paramedics?” He places a hand gently on her shoulder. Daphne flinches, recoiling from his touch. It deepens the pit in Lev’s stomach. Though she’d never admit it out loud, he knows how much she likes to be touching him. Even Soto has joked about it in passing - personal space isn’t a thing between the pair. He’ll lean on the back of her chair to read over her shoulder. She’ll perch on the edge of his desk to chat, feet resting idly in his lap. Even when they’re in a briefing, they’ll both linger closer to each other than anyone else. It brings Lev so much comfort and so, seeing her jerk away from him breaks something deep inside of him that he didn’t know could be broken.
“Why would I do that? I’m not the one who got shot,” Daphne snaps, jerkily standing up and Lev can’t help but wince as she leaves his side. After a moment she starts again, her voice steadier but more strained, like he’s trying desperately to sound put together. “Seriously, it’s okay, Oz. I’m fine.” She turns her head and as Lev follows her gaze, he realizes she's looking at Karadec with a pained look in her eyes.
“Nope, none of that,” he says gently, pulling her gaze back to him, “Daph, It’s just me. It’s just us.”
He flashes her a soft smile, and her eyes soften in return. It seems like that loosens something inside of her, and Lev can practically see all of her carefully crafted walls crumbling down in one fell swoop. With the tension dissipated, her body goes limp. She leans heavily against his shoulder and lets out a gut wrenching sigh, like she was holding the weight of the world on her shoulders before. And knowing Daph and how hard she is on herself, Lev is sure it felt like that to her.
After a moment, she composes herself enough to murmur a few words. “I was just so worried, Oz. About Ava. I was so afraid that she was going to get hurt.”
He sets his head gently against hers, shifting slightly so that she’s laying more comfortably against him. “But they didn’t. She’s okay.” From across the lot, Lev can see the girl. She’s pressed tightly between Morgan and Ludo, Karadec hovering protectively behind the trio. The girl laughs, and Lev can’t help but smile. “She’s strong. If Ava’s anything like her mother, she’s going to bounce back just like that. That family is resilient above anything else.”
Daphne doesn't reply, her gaze still focused on the group across the lot. Her voice drops, low and unsteady and so unlike his partner that it sends a chill down Lev’s spine. “I couldn't do anything. If Ava would have gotten hurt, it would have been on me.”
“That’s not true, Daph. It wasn’t just on you. Melon was there, and he -”
“No!” She cuts him off abruptly, voice trembling. “Melon at least tried to do something. Hell, Tom tried something and he’s not even a detective. I just sat there, Oz. I froze.” She pulls away from him, wrapping her arms around her knees. “I’m a detective, damn it. I choked. I choked, and people got hurt because of it. Civilians got hurt because of it. If Morgan didn’t solve the case, what would have happened?” She trails off, her voice dying.
“Daph…” he starts but can’t find the words, his voice trailing off as well.
“I’m worthless, Oz,” she managed to choke out between ragged breaths. “A disgrace to the department.”
The certainty in her voice shatters Lev’s heart.
“That’s not true.” He tries to keep his voice level, but, fuck, he can’t help the desperation that leaks into it. That’s not true. That’s not true at all. Gently but firmly he pulls her away so he can look her in the eyes, keeping his hands wrapped firmly around her arms. He gently rubs his thumbs down her shaking shoulders in a clumsy attempt to ground her. “That’s not true, Daph.” Her lip only quivers in response. “Daph, you did everything you could. You saw Tom and Melon - if you would have tried something, you would have just gotten yourself hurt. Or worse. You could have…” His voice falters, not even wanting to say it.
“He pressed the detonator.” Daphne’s voice is so quiet he barely hears it.
“What?”
“He pressed it, Oz. The detonator. I tackled him and held him down but he still fucking pressed it.” She was trembling again, her eyes glassy with emotion. “I could have killed everyone in that goddamn room because I wasn't fast enough. Because I wasn’t good enough.”
Oh.
“Daph,” he forces his voice to stay steady, pressing down the emotion bubbling in his chest, “Morgan knew the bomb was a fake, right? I trust her. Karadec trusts her. Soto trusts her. And after seeing what she did in there today, I can be sure that everyone in that damn room trusted her when she said it, Melon included. You trusted her, and you followed your instinct. And you were right.” When she doesn’t reply, he squeezes her hand. “You were right, Daph. You’re a good detective. Please let yourself believe it. Please.”
Daphne is ominously still for a moment, and Lev thinks that he’s lost her in her own head. But before he can say anything else, she surprises him by closing the gap between them and pressing herself into his chest with a force that almost sends both of them tumbling to the ground. For a moment Lev is frozen in shock, unable to do anything but stare at his partner quivering against him. Tentatively, he settles his arms around her lightly. When she doesn't pull away he tightens the grip, and feels her melt into him. As she presses further into the embrace, Lev realizes she’s not just shaking. No, she’s crying.
No, not just crying.
She’s sobbing.
His partner has always been so hard on herself, but Lev has never seen it get this bad before. Whatever happened in that room broke something deep inside of her, shattering it into a million tiny pieces that are now laying at Lev’s feet.
And honestly, it breaks him too.
In his eyes, Daphne Forrester is the best detective on the force. Lev could talk for days about how amazing she is. How professional she is. How yes, this whole situation is awful and horrific but damn it, it’s not her fault in the slightest. She’s a good fucking detective. More than that even, she’s a good person. She’s quick-witted and selfless and goddamn it, she was held hostage for hours and still, all she can think about is the other people.
But he can’t get the words out. All he can do is mumble over and over again, his voice hitching with every breath. “You’re okay,” he murmurs into her hair, half as a plea, half as a reassurance. He can only repeat it over and over again, his words wild and desperate and half slurred as he holds his partner tightly against his chest.
You’re okay.
You’re okay.
You’re okay.
“I’m okay,” she echoes back after what feels like an eternity, face still buried into his chest. “I’m okay.”
For a moment, they’re both still. She shifts in his arms, and Lev reminded that she’s here. That she’s alive. That she’s okay. That she’s not leaving him. The dams break, and emotions he’s been desperately trying to hold back for the last few hours wash over him. And before he knows it, he’s crying too.
“You’re okay,” is still the only thing he can bring himself to say.
She’s okay.
God, she’s okay.
From the moment Soto called and told him what was happening, those were the only words he wanted to hear.
As soon as he was briefed on the situation, Lev knew this case was going to be more emotionally taxing than most. Innocent members of the public were wrapped into a personal vendetta against the department, heightening the normally high stakes to a terrifying extreme. Moreover it was on their home territory, hostages being held in their very own department.
And besides, Lev just naturally wears his heart on his sleeve. That's his whole thing. He expected to be on edge all day, more so than usual.
But he’s a detective, goddammit. If he let his emotions overtake him every time he ran a case, he’d have to quit. He’s good at keeping them tucked away, hidden, in order to finish the job at hand no matter how sensitive the subject matter is to him.
But when Soto told him that Daphne was one of the people that was being held, Lev felt something snap inside of him. The fear that overtook him was different than anything he had ever experienced before in his life. It was primal almost, something so raw and piercing that he couldn’t just push it down like he was trained meticulously to do. It undid him completely, leaving him dazed and quivering on the bathroom floor more than once throughout the investigation.
And, as he holds her partner in his arms, Lev realizes it’s because of her.
It’s always been her.
He’s been running through worst case scenarios in his head all day. But not about the case, not really. All day, his only thoughts were about all the horrible things those people could be doing to his partner in there.
She was only a junior detective, expendable in the eyes of a criminal who had a score to settle with the department.
They could have used her as leverage, pressing a gun to her head to make sure everyone stayed in line.
They could have tortured her for the fun of it, just to watch everyone squirm.
Lev knew it was selfish. He absolutely should have been more worried about the civilians, or Ava, or even Morgan, than a trained detective like Daphne. But the idea of his partner being hurt in any way was the only thing he could focus on, the thought that the gunshot they heard could have been aimed towards her…
“Oz?” Daph’s voice drags him back to reality. He doesn’t even realize she has pulled away from his embrace. She’s staring at him with wide eyes, the remnants of tears still lingering on her lashes. “Why are you crying?”
Her eyebrows furrow slightly as she blinks at him in confusion. Her makeup is smeared from the tears, small flecks of black trailing down her face and settling on her cheeks, which are also flushed with emotion. Lev doesn’t think she’s ever looked more beautiful.
“I’m just really glad you’re okay, Daph.”
His voice cracks hard at the end and his partner laughs softly at it. It’s small, but it’s a glimmer of her usual self shining through all the hurt, and Lev can’t help the tear that slips down his cheek at the sound.
She’s okay.
Fuck, she’s okay.
For a moment, Daph just stares at him. Her eyes are still puffy from crying, but there’s something new as well. There’s an unfamiliar softness to them, her normally harsh and piercing gaze now shrouded in something tender. Before Lev can think about it too hard, his partner is pressing her lips against his decisively. Heat rushes to his cheeks instantly and Daph reaches forward, cupping her hands around his face to wipe his lingering tears away gently with her thumbs. Once he’s sure that he isn’t just imagining it Lev leans in to deepen the kiss, letting his hands settle tenderly on his partner’s waist.
After what feels like forever, and somehow is still not long enough for Lev, Daph pulls back and her eyes flutter open gently, meeting his own with a blush. For a moment, nothing else matters and they’re the only two people in the world. And then reality comes crashing back down as her gaze shifts from Lev to something over his shoulder. Her eyes widen in alarm and she curses sharply under her breath.
Instinctively, Lev pulls her closer. It’s silly, he knows. There’s dozens of cops milling around, so whatever she’s looking at can’t be that dangerous. But goddamn it, she’s his partner and he wants her to know that he’s always got her back.
He turns his head to see what she’s looking at, and he can’t help but curse too. From across the lot, Morgan is staring at them. Her eyes flicker across them like she’s analyzing a crime scene, and a shit-eating grin spreads slowly across her face as she puts it all together.
Daphne lets out an embarrassed groan, and Lev fully expects her to pull away from him in an attempt to retain some professionalism in front of their colleague. But much to his delight, she instead just lets herself fall against his chest once again. He instinctively wraps his arms around her, savoring the warmth that blooms in his chest at her touch.
From across the lot, Morgan smiles sincerely as she meets Lev’s gaze. She winks at him before pulling her fingers across her lips, turning them at the end. Lips sealed. I won’t tell Karadec. For now, Lev thinks with a groan. With that, the consultant turns back towards her family and the head detective, who thankfully seems to have not noticed what is happening between his two subordinates.
They’re definitely going to have to talk about this eventually.
But that is an issue for later.
Because right now, with Daphne wrapped safely in his arms, Lev is exactly where he’s always wanted to be.