Renee fiddled with her ring impatiently as she sat on the edge of the bed. She validated Larry's concern, but forcing her to stop and take a blood test during a crisis really felt like overkill. Yes, she had been shot and was admittedly still feeling sick from the epinephrine. But she was perfectly alert, able to do her job, and needed to know what was going on.
Finally, Doctor Macer came back in, holding her chart. There was something unreadable on her face that seemed to indicate the result was not trivial. Renee gripped the edge of the bed beneath her.
"Well, your blood test still showed some traces of the epinephrine, but other than that, there's nothing wrong…"
If that was the case, then why did she still look so hesitant?
"We did, however, find something else that might be of interest to you." Renee studied her, and if she wasn't mistaken, she was… smiling? What blood test came with good news? "You're pregnant."
She blinked a few times. "What?"
"There were elevated levels of hCG in your blood," Doctor Macer clarified.
Renee sputtered. "Y… You said that the test was accelerated, right? Couldn't that have created an error? Or a misread or–"
Doctor Macer shook her head, laughing through her nose. "If I were you, I'd think about eloping," she suggested, pointing to her engagement ring, "because in a few months, you're not going to fit into your dress."
Renee still couldn't speak, but recognised that this was somewhat inevitable. She wasn't on the pill as she found it made her sluggish and miserable, so she and Larry had always used other methods. He had never pressured her to try any form of birth control again, and he hadn't let that stop them from being intimate at all — it had just made them both neurotically careful. Once their relationship had taken a more serious turn, though, they had become a little slack, both knowing they eventually wanted children together.
"H-How… How far along am I?" Renee asked, realising she had been staring off into the distance, stunned, much to the doctor's slight amusement.
"About eight weeks, I'd say."
Their anniversary dinner. They'd had a lot of wine that night...
"Right. Well," Renee took a breath, "thank you, Doctor."
"You're welcome." She smiled. "Larry's a good guy, I'm sure he'll be happy when you tell him."
"Yeah," Renee agreed, realising now that she'd gotten over the initial surprise, she was actually pretty excited about it. It didn't feel quite real yet, which was to be expected. But given the nature of their jobs, they could have easily put off having kids until it was too late, knowing them, so why not let fate handle things here? "I'm sure he will."
Renee then stood and left the medical ward. As she made her way back to her office, a familiar voice said her name. Renee turned and found him already in his tactical gear.
"What did the doctor say?" Larry asked worriedly.
Renee shook her head, placing her hand on his shoulders. "I'm fine, Larry."
He sighed, smiling a little. "Good."
"There is one thing, though." He went to open his mouth, so she placed a finger to his lips with a grin. "It's nothing bad, but it's important and we should talk about it. At least, I hope you don't think it's bad."
Larry furrowed his brow. "What?"
She felt butterflies in her stomach, the way she had when she had asked him out. It was hard to believe that was three years ago now. There was something funny about her being more nervous to break the news to him now than she had ever been in the field. This wasn't because she wondered whether his reaction might be negative: this was something the two of them had discussed many times and agreed on. It was just a little unexpected. Then again, what part of their job wasn't? If they could handle dealing with whatever crisis the country was going through from day to day, then they could certainly handle having a baby. And maybe if they took up Doctor Macer's suggestion and eloped, with the stress of a big wedding gone, they could focus all of their attention on this instead.
Feeling a surge of confidence, Renee took a breath, saying, "I'm–"
"Agent Moss!" someone called. "We've got another update from Seaton. We need to move out immediately."
"I'll be right there," Larry replied, briefly looking over his shoulder. "Sorry, honey, can it wait?"
Renee tried her hardest to hide her disappointment, but unfortunately, this was a recurring incident. Any time she and Larry tried to have a moment of privacy, someone, or something — usually a phone — would interrupt them. At least when this was over, he would have something good to come back to.
"Yeah, it's fine," Renee dismissed. "We'll talk later."
He pecked her on the lips. "Love you. I'll be back soon."
Worrying about her fellow agents in the field was nothing new to her. But she had realised early on in their relationship that she was never going to get over the tightness in her chest that came when Larry was out there. Being on point made it somewhat easier, since she would know every detail of what was happening. However, that also heightened her worry in other ways. She was sure he felt the same. It was why they were so protective of each other, even over things that weren't a big deal, like a blood test. It was impossible to be naive or take anything for granted when they put their lives on the line every day. But with the excitement of what she had found out, for once, she wasn't feeling an impending sense of doom.
"Be careful, okay?" Renee said, stopping him in his tracks.
Larry turned to flash another smile at her. "I will."
Renee folded her arms, trying to scan the incoming feeds to see if anything was from or mentioned Larry, but found nothing. It was hard enough to worry about the case, but knowing the size of the army Starkwood had on their base only made her more apprehensive. Knowing that the FBI had destroyed Starkwood's missiles and arrested Hodges was assuring. However, this lingering canister had to be taken care of. She felt sick to her stomach in more ways than one. Her body seemed to want to make a point of reminding her of her pregnancy now. There was no way she could keep this from Larry for any longer. Screw priorities, when he came back, she was going to pull him aside, kiss him and tell him. Part of her wished she had told him over the phone during his very brief check-in, but that just hadn't felt like the right way to deliver such important news. She wanted to see his reaction.
Still, Renee managed to keep it together as Kim told her that she would be heading back to Los Angeles per her father's request. The thought of Jack begging Kim to let him die was so heartbreaking. It was his choice, and she respected that. But it made her wonder what kind of darkness he carried within him if he was so quick to dismiss his remaining chance at life and reconnecting with his daughter. Jack deserved so much better. She recognised that he had had an impact on her today. He had made her question her core beliefs and shown that sometimes his way was the only way to get things done. The thought of him just giving up…
"Renee?" Janis's voice snapped her back to reality. "Agent Park is on the phone for you."
She looked back at Kim, smiling politely. "I need to take this."
"I understand," Kim replied, seemingly unbothered. Renee imagined that she had gotten used to never finishing a conversation due to her father's line of work. "Good luck."
Renee walked back over to her desk, still unable to shake the dread coming over her. "This is Walker."
"Agent Moss is dead."
She had been idly looking down at her screen, but her head shot up so fast it made her neck hurt. Her reaction must have been noticeable because Janis also quickly turned to look at her worriedly.
"What?" Renee breathed.
Had she heard him correctly? He was saying it so matter-of-factly, the way that every agent had been trained to deliver bad news. But surely, if he was telling her what she thought he was, he would say it with a little more tact? This was her fiancé they were talking about. Maybe that was just it, though. Maybe it was because he knew she needed to be told directly, rather than be coddled. Still, this couldn't be right. She had spoken to Larry not that long ago. He had been getting into a chopper with Almeida to track the man with the smuggled canister. What the hell had happened?
"Apparently, he was killed in an ambush by the suspect. The chopper pilot, too. Tony Almeida's been shot, but he's alive. I've got medical personnel working on him now," Park continued to explain, before softening his voice. "I… I'm so sorry."
All she could hear was her thundering heartbeat. A hot flush rose to her face. She wasn't sure how long it had been since she had taken a breath. The more logical part of herself had questions, was picking apart every detail, sensing that something didn't add up, that there was more to this. However, the louder, more emotional part of herself was struggling to keep her body upright, somehow unable to comprehend the concept of Larry being dead. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. Not when they were supposed to get married, and not when she still had to tell him…
"Agent Walker?" Park asked, concerned.
"Do we have any leads on the hostile?" Renee replied immediately, her voice shaking.
"No, but the area's been cordoned off," he answered. "He couldn't have gotten far. We're setting up an operations base here on the scene to coordinate the manhunt. How do you want to proceed?"
She blinked a few times. "Me?"
"You're the ranking agent in charge now."
Those words seemed to enable her rationality to take control of her brain. No matter how much her heart ached as the realisation slowly started to sink in, she was not going to allow that to stop her from the FBI's pursuit of the bioweapon. There were thousands more lives at stake here, thousands more people who could end up with the same loss as her if they didn't find this hostile in time. Renee could already feel her eyes become wet with tears. Despite her newfound clarity, she wasn't sure she could internalise her reaction any longer.
"Maintain the perimeter. Begin a south-north sweep," she instructed. "I'll chopper out a team and meet you there as soon as I can."
"Agent Walker, I have more than enough personnel. You don't need to be involved in the search," Park advised, and although she trusted him to do his job, she knew that she wasn't going to be able to sit put while the person who killed Larry was out there. Perhaps that was also why he was telling her not to come here, questioning her ability to be objective.
"Yes, I do," Renee stated. "Keep me posted if you hear anything."
Park didn't seem to want to argue with her. "Yes, ma'am."
She hung up the phone, Janis still looking at her expectantly. They knew each other so well that Janis didn't even need to ask what had happened.
"He was killed in a shootout with the suspect," Renee confirmed.
Her face fell. "Oh… Oh, God, Renee."
Renee knew that if she allowed Janis to pull her in for a hug or start consoling her, she would break down, so she moved away, trying to maintain her focus on the situation.
"I need you to brief the White House on what's happened," Renee ordered flatly, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Call Doctor Macer and have her deploy a HazMat team to the perimeter line. Assemble a team to chopper out with me."
"I'm so sorry."
"Someone's going to need to notify Larry's ex-wife." Renee pressed her lips together. "Probably shouldn't be me."
"It's okay. I'll take care of it," Janis assured, not taking her eyes off her.
Renee thanked her with a nod, her vision starting to blur. She then turned to walk to the bathroom, no longer feeling capable of containing the contents of her stomach. The nausea had been coming and going for the past few days. Now, she obviously knew why, but this was the final straw. She ignored every agent who called her name along the way and was relieved that nobody else was in the bathroom as she made it to a stall. Most of what she threw up was bile. She let out a sob that echoed off the tiles of the bathroom. Her chest felt tight, and she placed a hand on the wall to stabilise herself. She was vaguely aware of her phone buzzing in her pocket, but she couldn't bring herself to answer it. He was gone. The love of her life, the man she had been so excited to create her future with, was gone. But this was more than just a personal loss. He had been a brilliant agent. He had taught her everything she had ever known. He had been her sounding board, and now she was going to have to deal with making decisions about one of the worst crises they had ever faced without him here to guide her. She had never felt this alone in her life.
So deep in thought, she was almost startled by the sound of quiet, but distinct footsteps on the tiles.
"Renee?"
She quickly wiped her eye with the back of her hand, not that she had a problem showing vulnerability around one of her closest friends. But she couldn't afford to lose authority over the situation. She had to do this for him.
As she opened her mouth to speak, no words came out.
"Look…" Janis said gently. "Nobody would blame you for stepping down right now, we can get a replacement–"
"No," Renee stated, slowly standing up and flushing the toilet. "I'm fine."
Janis bit her lip. "You're sure?"
"Yes. I'm not going to pretend that I'm okay, because I'm not, but I have a job to do," Renee explained, hardening her voice as much as she could.
She nodded. "Alright."
Janis left, and Renee took a shuddering breath as she met her reflection in the mirror. She was going to remind herself of her job as much as necessary to keep herself going. Most of all, she was going to find the son-of-a-bitch who killed him if it was the last thing she did.
It was hard to believe that twenty-four hours ago, she and Larry had driven into work, stopping at their favourite bakery along the way, thinking today would be like any other. A little while after that, she had pulled Jack Bauer from the Senate hearing. How had everything gone so terribly wrong in just a day? More than that, how could one person, one person, be the cause of all of it? From what Almeida had claimed, Wilson was the driving force behind any and all major terrorist attacks over the last six years. It had shattered her faith enough to hear that Charles Logan had been part of the Sentox conspiracy. To think there was somebody else more influential here was astonishing and infuriating. No amount of training could have ever prepared her for today, and doing it without her mentor had made it that much harder.
It had taken everything in her to not kill Almeida with her bare hands on the ride back to the FBI from his attempt to meet and kill Wilson. She had diligently made a point of focusing on delegating what she could and helping the investigation wrap up for the day so that people could go home. Security was well aware she was in no position to interrogate Almeida right now, so that had helped quiet the part of her mind that was hell-bent on storming in there anyway. However, the more Renee had thought about it, the more she had recognised that Wilson's actions had been the cause of Almeida's. She could see that if it weren't for the deep levels of corruption within the government, corruption she thought had long since been exposed, Almeida never would have sunk so low.
Renee watched as Wilson was taken into the holding room, still brandishing that smug smile that made her blood boil. He had a few cuts and bruises from where Almeida had hurt him, but was otherwise unfazed. Wilson didn't look like most of the terrorists they had arrested. That cruel, sadistic demeanour wasn't there. He didn't have the eyes of a killer, nor was he yelling manically about some manifesto or cause. By comparison, Almeida had looked closer to their usual suspects.
They were going to transfer Wilson for his protection from Almeida and interrogate him elsewhere. But that didn't sit right with Renee because she knew that no matter how hard they tried, they would never break Wilson — not with traditional methods, at least. Without a confession, he was untouchable. Even if they did find evidence of some petty crime, he would weasel his way out of whatever they attempted to charge him with. He would not be reprimanded accordingly, not even close. More than that, this wouldn't be a big deal for him. She had to wonder if Wilson was even capable of guilt. On the contrary, Almeida would have to sit with his for the rest of his life — assuming the death penalty was off the table — thinking about how horrified and disappointed his wife would be if she knew what he had done in her name. It was something, but not enough.
The door opened, but Renee continued to look in front of her.
"Woods is on his way to pick up Wilson," Janis informed her before holding out a manilla folder. "You need to sign the transfer documents."
Renee felt almost unrecognisable to the agent she had been yesterday. She never thought she would be someone who blamed the system, but here she was. So it was time to take matters into her own hands.
"What's wrong?" Janis asked as Renee moved away. "What's going on?" she repeated, concerned.
"Get out of here, Janis," Renee stated coldly.
Janis raised a brow. "Excuse me?"
"I said, get out of here."
"What are you doing?" Janis asked warily, like she was a wild animal.
Janis was echoing her voice of conscience, and that voice already sounded so much like Larry. She couldn't breathe. "Get out!"
"No." Janis's voice shook a little, and it disgusted Renee to realise Janis was actually afraid of her. "Absolutely not. I'm staying right here until Wilson is transferred."
"Fine."
Renee crossed the room and used the butt of her gun to smash the security panel. It beeped and fizzled in protest before ceasing its function. It was obvious to Janis that she was about to go off the deep end, and Janis would certainly want to stop her before she did anything drastic. But it was too late. Renee had committed to this now, and she wouldn't let anyone get in the way.
"What are you?–" Janis started. "Renee, what are you doing?!"
In one swift motion, Renee turned to face her, raising her gun. She almost couldn't believe she was doing this, raising a gun at one of the closest friends she had ever had.
"Put your hands over your head."
Janis scoffed in disbelief.
"I said, do it now, Janis!" Renee screamed, borderline hysterical. She tossed Janis her cuffs, feeling her chest tighten. It was getting harder to fight back her tears and stand on her feet. But she took a breath, knowing that she couldn't back down. "Secure your hands to that pole. Now!"
Thankfully, Janis seemed very eager to comply and started to cuff herself. "Okay, okay, okay. Just– Just calm down, all right?" she said in a jumbled rush. "Just– Renee, please don't do this. Please don't do this," she begged. "You've done your job. You arrested him. Let the courts take it from here. Stop this now, before it's too late. Don't throw away your career. This is absolutely insane."
Everything she said was correct. Deep down, Renee knew that. But there was a gaping hole in her heart that told her nothing else mattered. Her badge suddenly felt heavy in her pocket, as heavy as the shame would surely weigh on her once this was over. Renee took it out and held it to the light, as though reevaluating whether she truly believed in what it stood for now.
"Larry would not have wanted this." The mention of his name was like a knife through her chest. Janis knew what she was doing. If she wanted to stop her without calling security, mentioning Larry was the way to do it. Janis's voice softened as she pleaded, "Don't dishonour his death like this."
"Janis, I have to do this," Renee stated dismissively, determined to not delay this any longer.
"Why?" Janis asked desperately. "I know you're hurting. I know this is so hard for you right now, but just tell me why killing Wilson is going–"
"Because I didn't get to tell him!" Renee snapped, no longer able to put up with what felt like a cacophony of Janis and Larry's voices in her head, telling her she was not this person.
"… Tell him what?"
"Tell him that I'm…" Renee heaved, her voice breaking, "I'm pregnant."
At that moment, it all came pouring out. The gun landed on the table with a clatter, and she fell to her knees. Tears stung her eyes, and she wondered if she was going to throw up again.
"I-I found out right before he left," she took a shuddering breath. "But I didn't get to tell him because..." she gulped, "he didn't come back."
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry," Janis whispered gently, sighing.
"I just– It's not fair. It's not fair that I had to lose him while he," she pointed to the room behind her, "gets to walk out of here after today. He'll get a slap on the wrist, if that. I'm not talking about Almeida because he's going to rot in jail for the rest of his life. I'm talking about Wilson and all the people that work for him who have never been punished for what they've done."
"I… I understand what you're saying and I agree it's wrong. It's made me reevaluate what I believe in, too. But that does not mean you need to throw your life away over it."
She tipped her head in acknowledgement. "You're right. I know you're right," she admitted quietly. "I just don't know what to do."
"Get over here," Janis said.
Renee looked up to find her smiling sympathetically.
"You made me cuff myself, so get over here and I can try to hug you."
She grabbed the wall to stabilise herself and get to Janis, fishing her key out to unlock the cuffs.
"Sorry for pointing a gun at you," Renee uttered sheepishly.
"It's fine," Janis said, pulling her into her embrace as soon as she was free. "But you have to do one thing for me."
Renee sniffled. "What?"
"You have to take care of yourself," Janis said. "That's what Larry would want you to do. So you can't go to jail. You can't go — and I'm sorry to bring him up — full Bauer on Wilson. I'm not just saying this because of the baby: it's important for you, too."
She nodded against her, feeling warmth in her chest, and hope that she didn't think she was capable of mustering.
"And most importantly, I'm going to be here for you."
It wasn't going to be easy, by any means. But she wasn't going to be alone. More than that, she owed it to Larry to keep going. So she couldn't give up.
It was harder to button up her slacks today. That was the only real indication of time passing. Everything else had been a blur. Renee had blocked the memory of his funeral from her mind. It had been difficult trying to keep it together. But she was so grateful to have had her family, Larry's family, and Janis to lean on. Seeing his ex-wife had been hard, however. Renee could understand it hadn't been easy for her, either, seeing the woman her husband had left her for. But she had still had the decency to come up to Renee and deliver her condolences, which she appreciated.
Aside from that, Renee had been working every minute to find more evidence connecting Alan Wilson to what happened that day. Renee was pretty sure she had spent more time at work than at her apartment, their apartment, as it had been. She still hadn't brought herself to move his things. She wasn't sure she would be able to even touch his toothbrush without bursting into tears — the hormonal changes on top of that certainly didn't help. Unfortunately, the FBI hadn't found much. Their best resource was Almeida, which was why Renee was visiting him in prison today. Almeida had taken a plea deal for a life sentence, with no chance of parole, instead of risking execution. He was to give any and all information to the FBI and aid with the investigation for as long as it persisted. Given how broken-hearted he had been, it was almost surprising he hadn't leapt at the chance of being put out of his misery. Frankly, a part of her wanted to see that, too, but the thought of him having to sit with his guilt for the rest of his life was closure in its own way.
Renee had been strongly advised against visiting Almeida by practically everyone at the FBI, including the agents called in from other units to make up the numbers they had lost after the bombing. But her need to have control over the situation was the one thing keeping her going right now. So, she had calmly but firmly informed them that she would have no issue being professional around the man who had murdered her fiancé. She was the agent in charge, and she should act like it. She mostly believed those words, but seeing Almeida would put them to the test.
When she met Almeida's eyes as the guard opened the door, she felt hot anger rise in her throat — or was it her breakfast? Her morning sickness was still awful, but she hadn't managed to throw up today, and she certainly wanted to keep it that way in a place where bathrooms weren't particularly accessible. More than that, she didn't need to give anyone a reason to send her home or pull rank. Luckily, she had something to tide her over. Silently, she made her way to the table, sitting across from him and frantically fishing through her bag. She deftly found her nausea tablets and a bottle of water, taking a quick swig and a few deep breaths to decide whether her stomach would behave.
It took her a second to register that Almeida was talking to her. She gave him a dirty look. "What?"
"Those… those pills. They're for morning sickness," Almeida acknowledged. He looked almost ashen.
"Your point?" Renee queried, realising that while she might be able to keep her morning sickness at bay, her anger might not be so tameable.
"You're pregnant," Almeida concluded, his voice soft with apology.
In the brief time that Renee had known Almeida, he had been eerily cold and stoic, except for when Jack had interrogated him and when he had tried to kill Wilson. So seeing this guilty look on his face was almost jarring. More than that, it made it clear to Renee that Almeida indeed had a heart. Realistically, she should be furious with Almeida, which she was. But she also couldn't help but be angry with herself. Because maybe, just maybe, if Larry had tried to tell Tony she was pregnant with his dying breaths, then he might still be here today.
"Now, you're sorry?" Renee said thickly. "You killed the father of my baby, but now you choose to be sorry about it?"
Almeida sputtered, and everything after that felt like an out-of-body experience. Renee's hands ended up around his neck, his eyes wide with surprise while hers blurred with tears. She cursed him over and over again, becoming almost incoherent. She heard yelling in the distance, and while she went along with the guards as they tried to pull her off him, she noticed that Almeida was actually doing nothing to stop her. He wasn't fighting back because he knew that he deserved this. It made it somewhat less satisfying, not that she had wanted to hurt him for any reason other than pain.
Renee allowed the guards to cuff her and take her to another holding room. Someone mentioned calling the FBI. Well, so much for keeping her cool. It had been stupid and impulsive, but she couldn't say she regretted it. Mentally, she ran through the consequences of being charged with assault. She had already crossed a few lines with her actions a month ago. A judge might not like that, even with her otherwise impeccable service record. Maybe she could pull the insanity card. While she never liked the idea of PMS or pregnancy being used against women to claim they had poor judgement, in this case, misogyny might actually help her.
The door to the room opened after some time. One guard came over and uncuffed her. The other stood at the entrance.
"Alright, Agent Walker, you're free to go."
She furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"
"Almeida's not pressing charges. He, uh, also wanted to tell you that he was sorry and that he meant it," the guard said sceptically, before muttering, "not sure where the hell that came from."
Renee blinked at him a few times before finally processing his words and sighing with relief. She supposed it made sense since Almeida had practically let her hurt him, something that still puzzled her, given his apparent lack of remorse for anything else he had done.
She thanked the guard and walked back to her car before driving back to the FBI. A few people looked at her strangely when she came into the bullpen. Even if charges hadn't been pressed, word had still probably gotten around. Janis stood at her station with her hands on her hips and did not look happy.
"Do I have to put you on a leash every time you go near Almeida now?"
Renee looked at the floor. "It was stupid, I know."
"Damn right, it was stupid!"
"I just… I just snapped, okay?"
Janis pressed her lips together. "I know. And I don't blame you. But you got lucky." She pointed at her stomach. "As the unofficial godmother of this baby, I'm not letting you do anything like this again, Renee."
She snickered. Her sense of humour never failed to brighten even the dreariest of days. "Tell you what. If you don't lecture me about what just happened, you can drop the 'unofficial'."
Her eyes lit up. "Really?"
Renee smiled. "Yes, really. Who else would I want besides you? You were going to be my maid of honour anyway."
Janis hugged her tightly, nearly causing her to lose her balance. "I am going to spoil that kid rotten."
"I wouldn't expect any less."
The phone on Janis' desk rang, and Renee took the chance to go back to her office, shutting the door behind her. When she opened her computer, she decided to peruse Almeida's file again, searching for something that might explain his behaviour. Almost immediately, she landed on Michelle Dessler's file; her death had been his sole motivation, so it surely had to do with her. When she looked at her autopsy, one line explained everything: she had been pregnant. Eighteen weeks. Far along enough to know they had been expecting a son.
Renee closed the file and sighed, leaning back into the chair. While her anger towards Almeida did not wane, she did feel a little more sympathy for him. Losing a spouse was one thing, losing a child, too… She shook her head. She could understand, but it didn't change what had happened, and that she would give anything to have Larry back.
Renee could barely button up her coat now, but she did her best as she felt the biting breeze, making her way down the familiar path, lilies in hand.
Her grief was still something she carried within her and was constantly aware of, almost as much as the now-kicking being existing within her. She saw the FBI's counsellor when she could, but being proactive in her work — even though she still probably spent more time there than she should — and her health helped her more than anything. Janis fretting over her more than her own mother was a great help, even if it was a little much at times. Visits to the cemetery were also important, even if they were sometimes cut short by a phone call from work. However, today's appointment had been more important than usual, so she had arranged to take the rest of the afternoon off.
She laid the flowers down at Larry's headstone, still feeling her breath catch in her throat as she read the inscription there.
"Hey, honey." She smiled weakly. "I'm sorry it's been a while. Things have been, well, you know."
Renee took a breath, somewhat endeared that she was almost as nervous to announce this as she would have been if he were here.
"We're having a little girl," she said, her lips curling. "I… I remember you saying you always wanted a daughter. I wish you were here to see it." Renee sniffled. "God, I wish you knew. I wish I had told you. You… you would have been so happy. I-I should have just said it."
She placed a hand over her mouth to muffle her sob, a lump in her throat.
"I love you so much, Larry." Her voice wobbled. "You would have been such a good dad. But I'm going to love our little girl twice as hard to make up for it."
She allowed her hand to drop to brush his headstone, somehow making it feel closer to him. She wondered if this ever got easier, if she would be able to come here without feeling her body tremble and her nausea trigger. She supposed the only way she would find out was if she kept being strong and trying her best.
After talking to him for a little longer, she made her way back to the car. She was stopped by a call of her name. Her hand instinctively went to her gun at her waist, but as she turned around to see who it was, she relaxed.
"Jack?"
As they walked towards each other, she noticed he also had a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Last she heard, he was still in the hospital. The experimental treatment had worked, but she didn't think he had been released. She had given him space so he could heal alongside his family. But she had thought about him a lot. She didn't realise how overwhelming it was to see him until she hugged him without thinking twice. He hugged her back as best he could, now aware of the bump of her stomach. They both went to speak, but ended up talking over each other, which led to both of them laughing a little — or as much as was appropriate for a cemetery, at least.
"You first," he offered with a smile.
"I… I don't understand. I didn't think they'd discharged you from the hospital."
His eyes kept flitting down to her stomach. "I'm not out of the woods yet. I still have some treatments left, but I've been given the okay to drive."
"That's great," Renee said warmly. I'm… I'm so glad you're okay."
He nodded in acknowledgement. "How are you? You're… well, you're–"
"Pregnant," she filled in with a nervous laugh.
His expression fell as he connected the dots. "So you were just visiting your fiancé."
"Yeah," Renee whispered.
"How are you holding up?" he asked, with great sincerity.
"I'm okay, all things considered," she answered, her voice not quite level. "I-It's not easy. But I suppose you know that better than I do."
There was a pause, and she felt tears prick her eyes again.
"You know what the hardest thing was?" he then said.
"What?"
"It was the day I had to move my wife's things out of the house. I… I kept stopping myself when I put things into boxes. I would tell myself that she would need these things and that I shouldn't put them away." His eyes crinkled. "But when I got to the storage unit to drop off some things that didn't fit in my apartment, I just broke down."
"I get that. I think I've made every wedding specialist in DC cry with my story at this rate," she said with understanding.
"I'm… I'm so sorry," Jack then said. "I hate to think that if I hadn't trusted Tony so much, this might not have happened."
She hated to hear the anger in his voice. This wasn't his fault. Not at all. He didn't need to be sorry about this.
As he continued to ramble, she touched his arm, silencing him.
"Jack, stop. Please. Don't be sorry."
He looked at her with surprise.
"I don't blame you for what he did," Renee said, meeting his eyes. "Nobody does, so you shouldn't blame yourself, either."
There was something very distant in his eyes as he thanked her so quietly, she wasn't sure if she imagined it. She wondered how many things he had blamed himself for in the past, things that very likely weren't his fault. Knowing he apparently believed her now meant a lot.
"I take it you're here to see someone?" Renee asked, changing the subject.
He shook his head a little, seemingly snapping himself out of his thoughts. "Yeah. I, uh, I wanted to see David and Wayne Palmer's graves. I've been meaning to ever since I landed in DC, and, well, I got busy," he joked darkly.
Renee remembered reading in Jack's file that he had served both Palmers with a lot of loyalty, and that they had valued him as an agent, despite his unconventional methods.
"Do you want me to show you where they are?" Renee offered. "They're pretty big, but they're hard to see from here."
"That'd be great, thanks," he said politely, and they made their way back through the gate.
She led him to the site and went to give him some privacy as he paid his respects. But he said he didn't mind her staying. He quietly told her some things about David Palmer, particularly how much assistance he'd provided after the death of his wife. She'd always respected him as a leader, so she wasn't surprised to hear that he'd been the same in his personal life, too. She recognised Jack was being very vulnerable here, sharing his grief and reminiscing like this. But this was very much the time and the place to do so.
As the sun started to set and the wind became even colder, they walked back to their cars. They hugged again, and he told her to let him know if she needed anything since he would still be in DC for the indefinite future before hopefully moving to LA with his daughter and her family.
"Look, I don't mean to be forward, but… do you want to get coffee sometime?" Jack asked, making her stop as she placed her hand on the car door. "Not as anything… I'm not hitting on you at a time like this. I mean as friends–"
Renee chuckled softly, smiling as she cut him off with, "Don't worry, I know. And I'd love to."
"Renee?" Janis asked, sticking her head through the door. "Kim Bauer is here to see you."
"Alright, thanks," she replied, wobbling a little as she stood. She was still getting the hang of maintaining her balance. Other than that, she was doing better than she thought she would ever be, all things considered. Those hard days still came and went, the days when all she wanted to do was scream about how Larry was supposed to be here with her. There was still a heaviness in her chest. She still felt his absence at work and at their home. But she was so excited to meet their daughter, and was grateful for the support she had. She had had her baby shower soon, courtesy of Janis' planning, and both her mother and mother-in-law had taken her on shopping sprees for maternity clothes and the nursery.
Renee walked out and greeted Kim, who was waiting in one of the private meeting rooms. For as much as she and Jack had been catching up, she really hadn't crossed paths with Kim that many times since she was always heading back and forth between LA and DC for her own family. As a result, Kim's eyes widened a little, her baby bump not having been this visible last time.
"Agent Gold told me you had to ask me a couple of things?"
She nodded, taking a seat opposite Kim and opening her laptop. "Just checking some details about what happened at the airport again. Sorry to keep making you go over it."
Kim shook her head. "No, no, that's fine."
"How's your dad doing?" Renee asked.
"Good." Kim smiled. "Doctor Macer seems to think he might be home in LA by Christmas. How are you?"
Renee was a little taken aback by that. She figured Kim knew the baseline details of what had happened, but wondered how much her father had told her. He seemed like the kind of person who respected people's privacy. However, given everything that had happened to Kim over the years, including her brief stint working at CTU, she probably would have asked him some more questions.
"I'm okay, thank you." She stifled a yawn. "She's keeping me up with her kicking."
"How far along are you now?"
"Just hit seven months."
Kim hummed in understanding. "And I bet that heartburn's getting to you, too."
"My God, yes!" Renee agreed.
"Teri came out with a full head of hair, it's no wonder," Kim recounted. "You're glowing, though, Agent Walker. From what my dad tells me, you'll be a great mom."
Maybe Jack had told her more than Renee had thought.
"He talks about you a lot, you know?" Kim then said, before quickly following with, "Not… not like that. He's just– he understands you're going through. I think it's nice that you can both talk about that. I can tell it helps him." There was a sad look in her eyes. "He's… he's never really been good at opening up about it, so I'm glad he can around you."
Renee felt a clutch in her chest. When she thought about all the things she and Jack had talked about, she recognised that, yes, a lot of the conversation topics weren't very positive. But it had been so easy to talk to him. He didn't have empty pity: he understood in a way that nobody else could. And she was sure that Kim had the same empathy, too. Renee told herself then and there to make sure she stayed in touch with Jack after he went back to LA. That sense of genuine mutual compassion was too important.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to go into that. I'm sure you're very busy. What did you need to ask me about?"
She shook her head a little and refocused her attention. "Right, uh, let me get the evidence up."
After clarifying the details about the case, she noticed the sad look in Kim's eyes return again. Renee recognised that that day had been very hard for her. But she had managed to go through debriefs without getting too upset over recalling details before.
"I just still can't get over it," Kim said sombrely.
Renee tilted her head. "What?"
"That Tony was behind all of this." She sighed. "He was there for me and my dad so much, you know? He was there after my mom died. And then when my dad… disappeared, he and Michelle took care of me so much. I… I understand why Tony was angry. I do. It wasn't fair that they tried to leave CTU after suffering so much, but never got the happiness they wanted." Kim's posture straightened, and she held her hand up nervously. "Not that I'm justifying what he did. I just– What they both went through was awful."
She spoke about Almeida like he was dead, like the man she had known was not the same as the one Renee had. Renee realised, darkly, that Kim would be very good at compartmentalising like that. It was a display of strength and maturity, but she didn't doubt that the road to get there had been rocky.
"It shocked your father, too. I remember his face," Renee added. "I think he blamed himself for a long time because he believed that he should have been the one to find and stop him." She shrugged. "It was hard for him to accept that he had changed."
"Well, once he held me hostage, I'm sure that did it for him," Kim muttered, before looking up at her worriedly. "Sorry, that was insensitive of me to say. Tony Almeida's actions affected you a lot more than they affected me."
"It's okay," Renee reassured. "He hurt a lot of people. You have a right to be upset."
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was one of the field agents. It probably couldn't wait.
"You should probably get that. In my experience, no phone call at CTU was ever unimportant."
"You got that right." Renee stood and went to open the door for her. "Thanks again for this."
"No worries. I'll make sure my dad tells me when you have your daughter," Kim said warmly. "But, in case I don't see you before then, congratulations."
She smiled. "Thanks. I will."
Renee didn't expect to be going anywhere other than the grocery store at this stage of her pregnancy, and even then, Jack and Janis had been kind enough to do that for her. So, she wasn't particularly thrilled by the idea of working, but, ultimately, didn't want anyone else to be doing this. Even now, after several months of therapy and trying to focus on herself, when it came to this case, she still felt an excessive need to exercise control. As a result, she was escorting Almeida, along with his lawyer, to the bank so he could open up a deposit box Emerson had left for him. The investigation into Wilson had progressed slowly, even with Almeida providing intel. They only recently discovered that Emerson had even had this box, and that, more critically, it had been left to Almeida in his will. From what Almeida had surmised, the box likely contained evidence Emerson had collected on the conspiracy, possibly from before Almeida had worked for him. Strangely, though, despite Almeida cooperating with everything up until now, he had insisted on being the one to open the box, with his lawyer present. Renee doubted anything else in that box could incriminate him further. But she had always noticed he got cagey when Emerson was mentioned, so she had conceded. Unfortunately, the bank hadn't liked the idea of a high-profile criminal walking through, so they were doing this after hours, hence Renee was stifling a yawn as she came inside.
When Almeida saw her, he looked at her up and down, his eyes particularly focusing on her stomach.
"I mean this with no disrespect, but… should you really be here?" he asked.
Renee raised an eyebrow, and she recognised that he was genuinely asking her out of concern, but she wouldn't have it. "No, Tony, I should be using the maternity leave I'm entitled to since I'm due in two weeks, but because the FBI is still lacking in senior agents, no thanks to you, I don't have a choice."
He said nothing to that, looking almost skittish.
"Jesus, it took me half an hour to put shoes on tonight," Renee pointed out. "If you're worried I'm going to strangle you again, don't be."
"Excuse me?–" his lawyer asked, her eyes wide. But Renee swiftly cut her off, showing her identification and instructing the bank security guard to direct them to the deposit boxes.
While Renee had apparently put Almeida in his place, the lawyer started on a tirade about her client's rights and privacy. Renee tuned it out pretty quickly, and her disinterest only made the lawyer more insistent.
But when they got near the room with the deposit boxes, Renee felt her stomach lurch. Something was off. She had heard something. She was quite sure it was a car engine, which was worrying since they were meant to be alone in here. Up until this point, they had only heard the lawyer's chatter, their footsteps, and the slight jingle of Almeida's restraints. When Renee looked at Almeida, he seemed equally troubled. She tried to discern whether he seemed equally unnerved or whether he had anticipated this.
"You heard that too, right?" Almeida said.
She nodded, reaching for her gun, and the bank security guard followed suit. The lawyer looked around her worriedly. Just as she went to speak, the windows around them smashed deafeningly loud. There were gunshots, and, without thinking, Renee immediately started to look for targets and return fire. But whoever they were had brought a lot of backup. This couldn't be a bank robbery. They were here for them.
Almeida dragged her by the arm to each take cover behind a pillar. The guard tried to help the lawyer do similarly, but both were shot down. Renee's phone was in her back pocket. If she moved to reach it, she would be exposed due to the current size of her abdomen. Almeida looked at her worriedly, his fists clenched.
"I can still shoot with my cuffs. Give me your gun."
He did seem to be saying it genuinely, and the fear in his eyes likely put paid to this being some kind of breakout attempt for him, but she couldn't be sure. Her stomach hurt again, which only made her feel more inclined to be wary. Renee wasn't going to trust him for a second, and why the hell should she? This was exactly how Larry had died: supposedly helping Almeida defend himself against a hostile, only to reveal himself as a traitor.
"No. No way in hell am I giving you a weapon when we're the only ones here," she stated. "I'm not letting you do to me what you did to Larry."
"That's not what this is. Don't you get it? They're after me because of my intel," he shouted, narrowly missing a bullet that whizzed past the column. "I don't want any more blood on my hands. I want to help you, so just trust me. I'm getting you out of this."
She met his eyes, wanting to believe him, but still unable to convince herself.
"Let me lay down cover fire, so you can lock yourself in the room," Almeida proposed, motioning with his head. "The glass on that door is bulletproof."
"What about you?"
Renee wasn't sure why she asked. She rationed it as wanting to keep an eye on the criminal technically under her custody and authority right now. But deep down, she knew that wasn't entirely true.
Almeida shook his head. "My life's not the priority here. If I can slip in behind you, I will. But don't wait for me."
Renee flinched as a bullet chipped off part of the pillar she was standing behind. She wouldn't be unarmed completely; her other gun was in her boot, but it wasn't easy for her to access. Once she got inside, she could call for backup. However, right now… he was the only backup she had. Renee dropped the gun to the floor and kicked it over. It just made it into Almeida's reach.
"On my count, okay?"
She eyed the door. She might not be as swift as she usually was, but if there was ever a time for her to channel her focus, it was now. As soon as he told her to go, she bolted, praying that she kept her balance. She slipped in and immediately took cover behind a filing cabinet, reaching for her other gun as deftly as she could but struggling in the process. There was still a lot of gunfire to be heard from outside. She hoped Almeida was still one of the sources. Renee looked up worriedly as she heard footsteps and realised the door hadn't shut completely. A hostile burst through, but immediately fell to the ground, blood spreading on the floor beneath him. Almeida then followed, brandishing an automatic rifle he must have grabbed from one of the other hostiles, his restraints now broken, stopping to turn around and empty the rest of his clip.
"Thanks," Renee breathed as Almeida slammed the door shut, before her eyes widened at the sight of a dark stain on his shoulder.
Almeida looked down at it, equally surprised, but obviously, with his experience, being shot was not the most shocking thing to happen to him. Renee could no longer hear gunfire outside. He had obviously managed to disarm them all, but who was to say more weren't on their way?
Renee realised her stomach was still very tense. It had been a close call. She was just stressed, right? It was adrenaline. It couldn't be related to the dull cramps she had had earlier in the afternoon. Those had just been Braxton-Hicks again. Renee shook her head, trying to stand, only to find a much sharper pain that went through her stomach and lower back. It was so intense that she had to brace herself on the cabinet. Shit. Was she having contractions for real? Right now, of all times? No. She was fine. She was just reacting to having been shot at and having to trust Almeida. Renee took a deep breath, closing her eyes. When she opened them, she was surprised by how relaxed she felt, like that one breath had triggered her parasympathetic nervous system to regain control.
But then she saw the puddle on the floor between her legs.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding."
Renee looked back at Almeida, her jaw clenched. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"
"Your water broke," he said, like it was news to her, now clutching his arm and trying to compress the bleeding.
"Yes, Tony: my water broke."
He furrowed his brow for a moment. "You kept holding onto your stomach. Were you having contractions?"
"What do you think?"
"Why didn't you say anything?!"
She rolled her eyes. "Because, in case you didn't notice, we were a little busy getting shot at."
He huffed, wincing a little. "You said you weren't due for a couple of weeks."
"Yeah, well, if she's anything like her father, she's impatient and probably doesn't want to wait that long."
Almeida walked towards her and helped her to sit on the floor. "Give me your phone. I'm calling an ambulance."
"Call the FBI first," she rasped. "They'll be able to prioritise it."
Another contraction came. Renee took a sharp breath, her vision blurring. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed Almeida's expression was soft with worry. It was almost jarring compared to his usual demeanour.
Renee faintly heard Janis answer the phone.
"We've been ambushed, and Renee's water broke," Almeida informed her urgently.
"What?" That, Renee heard much more clearly. "Is Renee okay?!"
"She's fine. We're locked in one of the offices. The glass is bulletproof, we'll be okay if they send reinforcements," he informed her with a clarity and level-headedness that only came from years of experience as an agent. "But you need to send a tactical team and an ambulance."
There was a pause. "That might be a problem."
"Why?"
"There was a huge car accident downtown. It'll take about an hour for help to get there," Janis explained. "How far apart are your contractions?"
Renee shrugged vaguely. "I don't know. Less than ten minutes."
"I can patch you through to the paramedics. Give me a second."
Almeida put the phone on speaker and set it down beside him. Renee was still concerned by the blood pouring down his arm. "You won't make it before they get here."
She scoffed, her face slightly screwed up in pain. "Yeah, no shit."
"Sir?" another voice said through the phone. "Sir, are you there?"
Almeida responded, relaying to the paramedic what was going on. The paramedic seemed to agree that this was likely happening here, not the hospital, so Renee pulled her pants down over her boots.
"Great. The first thing my daughter's going to see is the face of the man who killed her father," Renee muttered gruffly.
He rolled his eyes. "Give me your jacket."
It was Larry's FBI windbreaker, to be precise. She had refused to part with it. It smelled like gunpowder and the cologne he used to wear. It wasn't quite a good luck charm: he had died in it. However, it made her feel close to him, and that was what mattered. Almeida laid it down between her legs, folding it like a pillow. Blood was now trickling down his sleeve, appearing in his palm. If he was about to help her do this — something she still hadn't quite accepted — then he probably needed to be alert.
Renee motioned with her head. "If the dead guy's wearing a belt, I'll help you make a tourniquet."
Almeida nodded, going over to the hostile, pulling off the thick belt and attempting to wrap it around his arm. When he came back to her, she helped to loop it through the buckle and yank fiercely until he was wincing. Of course, it was critical to help reduce blood flow, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't secretly a little happy to inflict pain on him. He then rolled up his sleeves a little, revealing his still very blood-stained hand.
"There's hand sanitiser in my purse," Renee recalled, and Almeida went through and found it, using a generous amount, obviously understanding that this was far from a sterile environment.
She had another contraction, this time lasting much longer.
"Four minutes," Almeida stated, and she had to admit she appreciated his care for keeping track of the time when that was the last thing on her mind.
"How far dilated is she?" the paramedic asked.
"Look any longer than you have to, and I'll shoot you, got it?" Renee warned, going to take her panties off.
Almeida met her gaze. "I'm just as uncomfortable as you are, alright?" When he looked down, he apparently didn't need to do much studying because his head shot back up immediately. "I can see the head."
It then hit Renee like a ton of bricks that she was about to do this with no warning, no preparation, no nurse, no doctor, nobody to hold her hand, and it terrified her. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Not only was Larry meant to be with her, but she also wasn't meant to do this when, for all they knew, they were still sitting ducks. How would she be able to defend herself if more hostiles came, when Almeida was injured and she would be holding a baby in her hands?
"I-I can't do this. Not here. I'm… I'm not ready."
Almeida seemed shocked by her change in demeanour, but when he spoke, it was more gentle and understanding than she'd ever heard from him. "I know this isn't ideal. I know Larry should be here, and you should be in a hospital. But you don't have a choice. You said you were having a girl, right?"
She nodded.
"Well, she needs you. She needs you to do whatever you have to do so you can hold her and tell her everything is going to be okay."
Renee took a few breaths, realising that he was right. Nothing else mattered. There was only one thing she had to do right now. All this time, she had been trying to stay strong for her daughter in spite of her heartache. But now she had to prove it. Despite wondering what she could have possibly done to deserve having Almeida, of all people, to be the one helping to deliver her baby, he was all she had right now.
If the contractions had been unpleasant, starting to go through labour with the paramedic's guidance and Almeida's echoed encouragement was even worse. She oscillated between solely focusing on pushing and thinking about anything else except the pain as a distraction. A fleeting part of her recognised that this had to be difficult for Almeida, too, being reminded of what he had missed out on with his wife.
Time soon became irrelevant. Renee wasn't sure if she had been doing this for a few minutes or a few centuries.
"Renee, push!" Almeida said for the umpteenth time.
She was dripping with sweat and tears. "I'm fucking trying to!"
"Yeah, well, that's not good enough, is it?" he retorted. "Come on, you're nearly there."
The encouragement in his voice was almost uncharacteristic, but she did need it. She gave it everything she had, planting her palms against the floor for resistance, until she slumped with release. Everything was silent for a moment until she heard a small cry, making her heart clench.
"Is she okay?"
When she saw Almeida, he had tears in his eyes and a watery smile on his face that she would never forget. "Y-Yeah. I think she's okay."
He passed the baby to her, swaddled in the jacket, and Renee immediately cradled her against her chest, cooing to her as she cried.
"Hi, sweetheart," Renee whispered, grinning through her tears.
She saw her daughter's bright blue eyes, exactly like her father, the smattering of freckles, like her mother, and her hair, not quite as red as hers, but somewhere in between hers and Larry's. As much as she had hypothesised what her baby would look like, to see her for real put anything she had ever imagined to shame. She had never believed in love at first sight. But it was the only way she could describe the immense, wonderful sense of affection she felt now, more powerful than anything she had ever experienced.
As overjoyed as Renee was, though, she couldn't forget that someone else should be beside her right now. Judging by the look on Almeida's face, it was clear he was thinking about that, too. Although Renee would never forgive Almeida for taking Larry's life, she would be forever grateful to him for saving hers and her daughter's tonight.
Tony had had his arm stitched and had been told he would be given a clean jumpsuit once he returned to prison. The bullet had hit a nerve, so he would likely have some weakness for a while, but otherwise, he was fine.
Renee apparently wanted to see him before he returned. He waited outside her room in the FBI's medical ward with one of the security guards, not wanting to interrupt whoever was in there with her. As Tony heard someone say goodbye and come closer to the door, he realised it was Jack. He had been informed that Jack had made a full recovery from the bioweapon, but had yet to see him since. Obviously, he and Renee had gotten somewhat acquainted if he had come to the FBI in the middle of the night to see her and the baby.
The door opened, and there was a mix of emotions on Jack's face. Judging by the way his expression soon softened, Tony figured he knew what had happened.
"Renee told me everything. You saved her life."
"I wasn't going to let her die," Tony replied simply. "I couldn't." His voice broke a little.
Tony had felt more emotion in the past few hours than he had in the past few years. Other than assisting with the FBI investigation, he spent a lot of time alone with his thoughts in prison. He still believed he was justified in his actions. He had brought Alan Wilson to the FBI's attention, although he still wished he had had the chance to kill him. However, he would be lying to himself if he said murdering Larry was something he didn't regret. He might have been set in his ways, but he had ultimately shown Tony a lot of trust, only to be betrayed. More than that, he had made Renee a widow and single mother in one fell swoop, and he hated himself for it. Tonight, he had been given a chance to redeem himself, at least a little. It wasn't enough. But saving her life and helping her deliver her daughter had reminded him that he apparently still had a soul beneath all of his numbness and resentment.
"What?" Jack asked.
Tony furiously wiped under his eyes. "I'm fine, alright? What do you care, anyway?"
He shook his head, sighing. "Because I know about Michelle."
Even all these years later, he still reacted to the mention of her name. Tony could barely bring himself to say it, or even think it, most of the time. It was always my wife to those who didn't know him well, and she or her to those who did.
"What about her?"
"You just helped deliver a baby after spending all these years mourning the loss of yours," Jack pointed out. "Regardless of what I think of you right now, that couldn't have been easy."
He huffed.
Before Jack could say anything further, the guard said, "Almeida, the van's already waiting. Enough chitchat. Go talk to Agent Walker."
"I'll leave you to it, then," Jack said.
As Jack went to leave, Tony called out to him again.
"I'm glad you're okay," he said honestly. "Really."
Jack laughed through his nose. "Me too."
Tony then entered, finding Renee sitting up in bed, holding her daughter. Tony had never seen her so happy.
"Five minutes, Almeida," the guard said tersely, shutting the door, to Tony's surprise. Renee must have told him that they were discussing confidential information or that she otherwise apparently trusted him enough to be alone with her.
"How are you? Both of you, I should say."
She smiled, sniffling. "We're good."
"You, uh, wanted to see me?"
Renee motioned with her head towards a nearby table. "Emerson's bank deposit box is there. I haven't opened it yet. Your lawyer might be dead, but you do still have a right to look through it first. But if there's anything in there that could help the FBI, let me know."
Tony came to the table, noticing not just the box but a large bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates that he was pretty sure were from Jack. As he opened the box, he wasn't too surprised by the contents. A lot of memory cards and thumbdrives, likely all related to the Sentox conspiracy or Wilson. He remembered David saying he had been collecting blackmail on all of the conspirators he had associated with from the beginning. The FBI could certainly use a lot of it. But then he found what he had been so desperate to get his hands on, to the point of calling a state-appointed lawyer that he had otherwise refused up until now, in a small envelope. The corners of his lips upturned as he opened it, finding the most recent photo of him and Michelle they had had, and their most recent ultrasound. Both had been on their fridge. David had obviously grabbed them before taking him to DC.
When he turned around and told Renee he had what he needed, she seemed surprised, blinking at him a few times.
"That's it? Your lawyer lectured me about your rights over a couple of photos?"
Tony held up the photos so she could see them. "I didn't want to risk losing them."
Her expression softened slightly.
"Given we both nearly got ourselves killed over it, I hope the rest is useful for the FBI."
She laughed through her nose. "I'm sure it will be."
As he turned to leave, he was confused by her suddenly calling his name.
"Come here."
He furrowed his brow.
"I'm still high on happy hormones. Don't let me change my mind," Renee explained. "You did deliver her, so you can hold her again for a moment or two."
Tony was admittedly stunned by her kindness. He was sure those happy hormones were indeed a big part of it. It had been a lot for him to hold the baby back at the bank, the weight of new life in his hands reminding him of just how many lives he had taken. He wouldn't be surprised if it reduced him to tears again, which made him grateful the guard wasn't in the room.
He came towards Renee, carefully taking the baby into his arms while passing her the photos to hold. The baby looked at him curiously. Given his slightly gruff appearance, it was surprising that the baby didn't immediately start crying or otherwise look afraid of him. It made him feel like less of a monster, to a small extent, at least. Perhaps it was because the baby had seen him before, if only for a few seconds.
"She has her father's eyes," Tony commented. He might not have known Larry for very long, but he would never forget the way he had looked at him, taking his final breaths. "What did you name her?"
"Laura, after her dad, then her middle name is Rose, after my mom."
Tony nodded. All of those emotions he thought had passed had come back now in full swing. But he didn't really care, if he was being honest. He noticed Renee was looking at the photos with crinkled eyes.
"You remind me of her," he said after a beat.
She tilted her head at him as he looked up.
"My wife," Tony clarified. "She would have liked you."
"Jack said the same thing," Renee mused. "I suppose I would have liked her, too."
The guard knocked on the door, and he took that as his cue to leave. He carefully handed the baby back to her, took the photos, and reiterated that he was happy to help the FBI interpret the evidence in the box.
"Thank you, Tony," Renee said as he touched the handle, in a grateful way that he didn't think was just due to the hormones. "I… I might have a lot of reasons to hate you, but without you, I wouldn't be holding my daughter right now. So thank you."
He met her eyes. "You're welcome."