Don't Make Me Choose Between My Love and My Life

As Jack followed the FBI agent down the hall, away from the bullpen, he still couldn't help but wonder why he was here. He had been defiantly defending his honour at the senate hearing, and now, he was somewhere that usually got him into the situations he had been berated for in the first place. Safe to say, he had his guard up. Based on the lack of restraints, he was pretty sure the FBI wasn't arresting him for anything, but the mystery only made him tenser. All Agent Walker had told him was that his presence had been requested to aid with a large investigation, something so critical that she had had no problem stopping Senator Mayer in his tracks and whisking him away. Considering Jack had been inactive for several years, he didn't have a clue what this pertained to. From his understanding, CTU's remaining cases had been handed back to the CIA after the shutdown. His best assumption was that one of his old undercover profiles might be useful for whatever the FBI was dealing with. He wasn't keen to get involved in this; bad things always happened when he was asked to help just one more time, but the senate hearing was no more appealing.

Agent Walker opened the door to a private office. The plate on the door read CIA Liaison. The CIA being involved made this a little more logical. The CIA had barely put up with his bullshit, but probably respected him a little more than the FBI. His mildest infringements of the law would give most FBI agents an aneurysm.

A woman sat at the desk, half-obscured by her computer screen and slightly turned away from him. Initially, Jack made nothing of it, but when she stood and met his eyes with a small smile, his heart stopped.

"Hi, Jack."

This wasn't possible. She had died from the explosion. She had been dead before Tony had been rushed to CTU. But maybe that was just it. Jack had never had the chance to go to the scene of the accident or even see her body in the morgue. He was happy to see her. How could he not be? But he couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding, knowing that there was likely a complicated explanation for how she was alive, how she had stayed hidden, and how she was apparently at the FBI. Thinking about her made him think about Tony, too, a crushing devastation hitting Jack as he realised that Tony's death had apparently been in vain.

"I'll, uh, let Michelle take it from here," Agent Walker said from behind him. Jack had forgotten she was still there.

Michelle nodded, tilting her head slightly to make eye contact with her. "Thanks, Renee."

The door shut, but Jack couldn't stop looking at Michelle, still trying to convince himself that he wasn't hallucinating. Michelle must have registered his stunned look of concern because she came towards him and hugged him.

"It's good to see you," she whispered.

He hugged her back. "It's good to see you, too."

They parted, and she returned to her desk, inviting him to sit across from her. Her hair was shorter and curlier, in contrast to how it had been last time. The burgundy suit she wore reminded him a little of that day, though. Hints of crow's feet were visible around her eyes, reminding Jack of how much time had passed. The lamp on the desk highlighted a faint scar across her cheek, and a path of discoloured, textured skin on her neck and collarbone that seemed to continue beneath her blouse. Her death might have been faked, but Jack did not deny that she had suffered through an ordeal, that she had survived, not just lived.

Michelle sighed. "About… about a year after we helped you disappear, David Palmer approached me on behalf of the CIA. He wanted me to privately investigate some internal security breaches across various agencies. He figured that since I'd left CTU I could be objective. At first, I refused his offer. Tony and I were trying to have a fresh start after agreeing to leave government work behind. But when Palmer showed me the potential impact these breaches could have… I couldn't look away."

He was more than familiar with that mindset. How many times had he been called into CTU, tried to tell them no, reminded them of what he had lost, only to ultimately accept because the potential consequences of the crisis prevailing were too great to ignore?

"Everything started out fine. I'd look through the files or try to run traces, then he'd pay me into an offshore account. But then…" She closed her eyes, taking a breath. Although Jack undoubtedly knew that Michelle was strong and that this would have only made her stronger, he also recognised that this was not easy for her to talk about, or for him to hear. Her eyes opened again, slightly bright. "That morning happened."

Jack's chest tightened. He had thought about that day many times over these past years, to the point where he believed it haunted him more than the twenty months of torture he had endured from Cheng. Knowing Michelle was alive made some of his guilt ease, but not completely, not when her situation was still ultimately his fault. It was clear she had managed to make the best of it and was making a valiant effort to serve her country. He couldn't imagine how hard that had been for her, trying to move on after losing the love of her life. Jack remembered how she had thrown herself into work after Tony's imprisonment; it was no surprise that she had used that same strategy to cope here. 

"The CIA grabbed me from the house and put me under protective detail. They were supposed to take Tony, too, but they… they prioritised me, and by the time they went to get him, he was already in surgery at CTU." There were tears in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. "It took me a long time to recover, but eventually, I found it in myself to keep looking into what Palmer had asked of me. I-I wanted to get you out of China. I begged them to," she said, looking up at him apologetically. "But they wouldn't. They said it would put me in more danger than they would be able to protect me from. I-I didn't even care by that point. I'd lost so much already–"

"Michelle, it's… it's okay, I appreciate that," Jack assured, covering her hand on the table. "It's my fault you were even in danger in the first place–"

"No," she said firmly, cutting him off. "If I could go back, I would still make that choice. And as for BXJ, I know you had nothing to do with your father and your brother. You were working towards the same goals as I was."

He felt taken aback by that. It wouldn't stop Jack from blaming himself, but hearing her say it helped to lift some of the weight he had been carrying in his body since that day. However, all of this information confused him more. Michelle couldn't have just called him in to say hello, certainly not when he likely still posed a risk to her situation, so what was this about?

"I… I don't understand then. Why am I here?"

Michelle grabbed a laptop from the desk and moved it in front of her, opening it up.  "Ren– Agent Walker would have mentioned the national security threat."

"Something about the CIP firewall?"

She nodded. "I've been a liaison between the CIA and FBI for over half a year now. Recently, we learned that one of the people behind this threat is someone you know, someone we both know. They won't let me near him. The CIA is worried for my safety, and truth be told… I'm not sure how objective I can be here. Which is why I need you to help me bring him in."

Jack furrowed his brow, trying to think of who she could be referring to. So many CTU cases came to mind, but none where he thought Michelle would be unable to cope. Michelle had always been good at remaining objective even when faced with a personal crisis. This was a rarity for her. Even then, why him and not an active CIA agent?

But when she turned the screen to show a CCTV snapshot of Tony Almeida, clad in a leather jacket, with no government insignia there or otherwise to be found, and standing near an armoured, unmarked car, he felt some mix of betrayal and confusion in his chest. He stared intently at the image, desperately trying to find a contradiction somewhere, something that indicated that this man was just a freakish lookalike. However, when he saw the graveness in Michelle's expression, he realised that maybe she wasn't the only one who had beaten the odds and survived.

"Michelle…" Jack said hopelessly. "I… I held him as he died. This isn't right."

"I know this is insane. Believe me, I was as shocked as you were when I found out. But they exhumed his grave. The DNA isn't a match."

"Where is he?"

She slumped her shoulders. "We were hoping you could tell us. But I can see that's obviously not the case."

"Where is this from? Who is he working with?" he asked desperately, trying but failing to conceal the emotion in his voice.

Michelle leaned over to change the screen to another profile. "A mercenary by the name of David Emerson. He's been linked to the component thefts for the device, and also Ike Dubaku, who you might know is Sangalan General Juma's right-hand man."

Painful memories of Sangala came back to him, and the thought of Tony being remotely connected to him was both infuriating and gutwrenching.

"There has to be something else. Tony can't be a part of this, he would never–"

"I know, Jack," Michelle said grimly. "I don't want to take this at face value, either, which is why we need to find him."

"And if he doesn't talk?" Jack pointed out, hating that he was referring to Tony like some stony-faced criminal who would rather die than betray his cause.

Michelle shrugged. "I can only hope that when he sees my face, he'll confess. The situation of my identity is…" She bit her lip. "Complicated, to say the least. I haven't been under an alias, but the CIA has kept track of every person who has accessed my file and what they've done with the information. Tony and his associates aren't on that list."

Now that some of the shock had worn off, Jack could process how strange that was. If this conspiracy was as big as she claimed, and somehow linked to the CIP device, why wasn't she in hiding?

"Like I said: it's complicated," she repeated with a mirthless smile.

He could see the fear beneath her expression, the fear that her theory wouldn't hold, that Tony would see her face, and it would make no difference. Jack had to have faith that this would work. Michelle had always been Tony's Achilles heel. If he still believed she had been dead for all this time, surely seeing her alive and affronted by his actions would make him reconsider. Jack had to believe that Tony was not that far gone, that there was more to this that they just couldn't deduce. Jack knew now that he was going to stay and help, the little voice of worry that this was going to end horribly for him be damned. He had to help Michelle, and, more importantly, he had to get to the truth.

Michelle stood by the phone with her arms folded. Larry paced anxiously beside her as they listened to Jack and Renee talk to a seemingly evasive Schector. Jack having found a probable lead after being at the FBI for less than half an hour was promising. She had called him for a reason, after all. But she wasn't going to be too optimistic, not when she knew that even if they found Tony, they had no idea what to expect after.

Of course, Larry was not as keen to have Jack here, hence his insistence that Jack and Renee wear bugs at the meeting so he could listen in. Schector's bodyguards hadn't found them, luckily. Michelle didn't like the FBI pulling rank when they had such tight rules surrounding interrogation. But Michelle prayed that Jack would at least not go too far and get himself kicked off the case when she needed him so desperately. Admittedly, she still felt some guilt over pulling him back into yet another national security crisis. But she and Saul had concluded Jack was their best option, so here they were.

"Where's Tony Almeida?" Renee asked. It still surprised her how much she still reacted to the mention of Tony's name in the present tense. Ever since she had found out he was alive and working for a mercenary no less, she had felt about as lost as she had when she had first woken up in the intensive care unit of a CIA medical clinic. She believed wholeheartedly that having Jack here today would help her find the truth. She prayed that if Tony saw her, he would stop whatever he was doing and come clean. But something felt uneasy, like she wasn't even sure if that would be the case. She reminded herself to breathe. She didn't, she couldn't, know everything yet, not until Tony was found and brought here.

"Tony Almeida?" Schector said in disbelief, and Michelle prayed it wasn't genuine. "In the ground, I suppose. Unless he was cremated. Didn't he die at CTU a while back?"

"You've got an out here, Gabe. They're not after you," Jack reminded him. "They're willing to accept that you didn't know what Tony Almeida was going to do with the components that you helped him steal."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he defended. "Nobody I knew stole anything, and if they did, I knew nothing about it."

"This is far more serious than you know, Mister Schector," Renee said sternly. "If you help us find Almeida, I can see to it that you're kept in the clear. Otherwise, you could be a co-conspirator to multiple terrorist acts."

She knew that that was the right thing for Renee to say, and what she had been told by Larry, but she also knew that given how skittish Schector was already, threatening him with charges could just make him clam up more. 

"No, well, I think this conversation is over." Schector's voice trembled, the arrogant facade fading for a moment. "I tried to answer all your questions, honestly. But I think from now on, you can speak to my lawyers. So, goodbye, Jack," he spat bitterly. "And good luck with the senate hearing. I hope they fry your ass. Ari, could you show these people to the door, please?"

"Are you sure you want to play it like this?" Jack said warningly.

"Yeah, that's the way I want to play, Jack."

Michelle felt her hope start to slip away, accepting that they were about to lose their best lead, but then her heart leapt in her chest when she heard commotion. In contrast, Larry's eyes widened, and both of them could only stare at the receiver until they finally heard Jack and Renee yelling in unison for Schector to drop his weapon. 

"Okay, okay, okay! You two are going to prison. This was unprovoked! Unprovoked!" Schector protested.

Larry glanced at Michelle, silently communicating that if Jack did anything, anything, he didn't like, he was going to pull the plug. 

"Your man Ari was going for his gun — I've got a witness," Renee rebutted.

She looked back at Larry, who seemed to relax a little. 

"Why don't we try having this conversation again? Where is Tony Almeida?" Jack asked.

"No. I'm not talking to you."

"Where is he?" he repeated.

"Tony Almeida's dead," Schector insisted.

Michelle gripped the edge of the table. Something about even the word being near his name made her shake. He was alive. He was really alive. The things he was doing might not make sense, but that didn't mean he wasn't alive. 

"Are you sure you want to stay here for this?"

"I'm fine, Larry," she said dismisively.

She couldn't give him any reason to take her away from this. Yes, there were so many boundaries being crossed here, but she wasn't about to lose her only chance to understand why Tony was doing all of this.

She leaned closer to the speaker. "Jack. Do whatever it takes."

"What the hell are you doing?" Larry hissed.

"He's not going to talk," Michelle answered, meeting his gaze. "You've tried your way, let me try mine."

When Jack then said, "I'm going to enjoy this," his voice sent a chill down her spine. She hadn't heard him speak like that in such a long time, but it reminded her of the reason she had brought him in. 

That made Schector drop his facade pretty quickly. "E-Enjoy what?"

Larry stared daggers into her. "Dessler, I swear to God, if this gets us a lawsuit–"

"It won't."

The man screamed, and Michelle bit her thumb. She didn't know what Jack was doing, but she was sure Larry was going to ask him and Renee for a full debrief when they got back. Renee didn't seem to be stopping Jack, which she was thankful for. Jack got results; nobody could argue with that. However, sometimes Michelle really hated the position she was in. She had faith in Jack to do the right thing in whatever way he thought was best, but she couldn't blindly disobey Larry when she was supposed to act like she was on his side.

"Alright! Alright! I'll tell you what I know," Schector conceded. "There's no need for me to lose my good looks over this," he went on with a nervous chuckle. "Okay. The last time I saw Almeida–"

As Michelle went to give Larry an I told you so look, the sound of gunshots and shattering glass came roaring through the speaker.

"Bauer? Agent Walker, do you copy?" Larry asked.

Every second of silence felt like aeons.

"Yeah," Renee said, and the slight tremble in her voice made Michelle press her lips together. 

"Tell your men they've got a shooter on top of the Columbia Building, heading south," Jack informed them, and Renee relayed the order without skipping a beat.

Michelle let out a breath. She had prepared for this day, knowing it would be dangerous, but the thought of either of them having a close call like this when the day had barely started made all of her worries resurface. Through the speaker, she heard a ringing phone. It sounded too far away to be Jack's or Renee's. There were footsteps, and someone pressed answer. To her annoyance, the comm unit didn't pick up what the caller said, but she clasped a hand over her mouth when Jack said Tony's name and asked him what was going on.

"We'll find him, Michelle," Larry  assured. "We're going to get answers."

Renee signed off, and she and Larry went to reconvene with the other agents. Janis approached Larry and asked him to privately follow her, shooting Michelle a look that she didn't like. After a moment, Larry returned with an apologetic expression, the same expression he had had when he and Renee had sat her down and told her that Tony was alive.

"What?" she asked worriedly.

"Janis was monitoring FAA chatter and found something…" He hesitated. "Of interest to the case."

Michelle came to Janis's desk with him. Janis played the audio snippet, and Michelle was unable to conceal her reaction. It was a punch to the gut. He sounded different, but not unrecognisable. There was a flat shallowness to his voice that solemnly reminded her of how he had been after his release from prison. Tony was apparently giving directions to an air control officer, who obeyed without question. God, what was he doing?

"We're still running the remaining analysis, but we can tell it's legitimate," Janis explained. "I can tell them to hurry up on the voiceprint–"

"You don't need to," Michelle said, keeping her voice neutral. "There's no doubt that's Tony." She had struggled to say his name ever since his supposed death, but had gotten better at it over the last few months.

Larry immediately started barking orders for people to get in contact with air traffic control and analyse projected flight paths. She wanted to scream. Everything faded to background noise. Now, her priority was stopping whatever disaster was about to happen. If he was redirecting planes, it could only be for one reason, and the thought of so many deaths on his hands made her want to find him only so she could shake some sense into him and understand why.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was a number she didn't recognise, but in this industry, people changed phones a lot for security, so she didn't think it was suspicious. In any case, she walked away from the chaos to answer it.

"Dessler."

"Michelle, it's Jack," he answered. "I don't know how much of that you heard, but the sniper was one of Tony's people."

"I-I know." She felt her breaths start to shudder. "But we've got bigger problems now. We just got a recording of him redirecting two planes. They're trying to run interference, but if they don't stop him… Jack, we have to find him before it's too late."

Jack cursed under his breath, and she could understand why he felt just as lost as she did. He had known Tony longer than she had. She couldn't blame him for being just as shellshocked by this. There was a pause before he asked, "Michelle, how many people knew we were going to see Schector?"

She lifted a shoulder. "Less than a dozen people, including Renee, Larry, and myself. Why?"

"How the hell did Tony know I was there? I doubt he would have had Schector under watch. I think the tip came from someone inside the FBI."

It wasn't a surprise. She had been acting in anticipation of this for a long time. Today was the day she could finally take action, and she would tell Jack that when he got back. However, with Renee possibly in earshot, since they were likely in the car together, she couldn't say anything yet.

"We're keeping things about this case on a need-to-know basis," Renee rebutted. "Almeida must have had an eye on Schector. He would have been covering his ass."

Jack tutted. "We were there for ten minutes. There's no way he could have gotten a shooter into position that fast. Michelle, until we sort this out, I think you need to assume that there might be a leak in the FBI."

She nodded. She had had many people after her for many years. Acting like everybody around her might be working for the people who wanted her dead was, unfortunately, very normal for her. "I will."

The beeping had been persisting for some time, with no apparent cause. But as Michelle opened her eyes groggily, the downlights above her making her cringe, she registered that the rhythm of the EKG seemed to be in sync with it. There was some quiet chatter in the background that became more coherent with every passing moment. Her body felt numb and slightly cold. Her head felt foggy. She flexed her hands as much as she could without pulling on the needle in her hand linked to the IV. 

How long had she been out for? She was obviously in some kind of medical ward, but it wasn't CTU's. She wasn't sure why that had been the first place to come to mind, but it had, like it was to do with the last thing that had happened before blacking out. As she realised that a great deal of time could have passed, she felt her heart start to race, the EKG beeping more erratically in response. A shadow rushed past her, shrouding her view of the medical equipment and the rest of the room.

Michelle tried to speak but could only manage a feeble gasp. What was going on? What had happened? As she tried desperately to think back, her eyes started welling with tears, like her heart already knew but her brain couldn't get there yet. As some of the sensation came back to her limbs, she made more forceful attempts to sit up, but the intermittent dizziness made it hard to do so.

"Easy, easy," the doctor said, holding her down by the shoulder. "Don't try to move yet, Agent Dessler."

Agent? She hadn't been called that in a while.

The doctor then lifted her bed. Michelle winced at the searing sensation in her core. She took a few deep breaths and managed to weakly ask what was going on.

"I'll leave Director Berenson to explain it to you," he said, his lips pursed.

That name stood out to her. She had never met him, but knew he was the one who had relayed information to David Palmer about the security breaches. Apparently, Berenson had personally selected her to aid him with the case. As soon as she thought about Palmer, everything came back to her in a rush. Seeing the news. Going to leave. Tony stopping her. Getting to her car… That was the last thing she remembered.

As the door shut to her room, she took a look at the man sitting near her. He had a solemn look on his face.

"How are you feeling?"

She shook her head. "What's going on?" she managed to ask again, unnerved by the horrible sense of dread in her body.

Berenson sighed. "You're at a hidden CIA clinic in Langley. You've been in a coma for almost two months, Agent Dessler," he explained. "There was an attempt on your life, likely by the people we've been investigating."

Her car. It had had to do with her car. 

"My… my husband, where is he?" Michelle rasped, feeling her face grow hot.

Berenson pressed his lips together. "I'm sorry, but he was murdered a few hours after we took you."

She squinted slightly, unsure if she had heard him properly. "W-What do you mean? Why didn't you bring him here with me?"

He looked very sorrowful. "We had to prioritise you because of the case, and since CTU also got flagged about the accident, they took Almeida before we had the chance to."

"I-If he was at CTU, why didn't they do something? They should have been protecting him." Her voice was racing now, even though she wasn't clearly enunciating everything.

"Yes, they should have," he said emphatically, like he was just as upset about it as her — Michelle doubted that. "But things got out of hand with the Sentox attack, and... they were too late to save him."

She felt anger rise in her chest. "Who killed him?"

"He was killed by Christopher Henderson, former director of CTU Los Angeles and one of many parts of the conspiracy you've been helping to solve."

"If you knew we were targets, then why didn't you protect us?" Michelle demanded. "Why didn't you tell Palmer so he could warn me? He made it sound like I would be far-removed. This wasn't what I signed up for."

Berenson sighed. "We were trying to keep you far-removed. We didn't know they were already onto us, not until it was too late."

Michelle felt her body slump against the bed, her hands clammy and mouth dry as it hit her. She wanted this to be some horrific nightmare, or purgatory, so she could wake up next to Tony and confess to him about doing work for Palmer. She wanted to have a second chance to tell Palmer that someone else could do this, not her, not after they'd left, not when they wanted to start a family. Oh, God. With the way her body was aching, combined with having been in a coma… Michelle looked down to find her stomach flat. If two months had passed since that morning, she would have been showing much more now. She started to hyperventilate, and her heartbeat became the only thing she could hear. Her hands came to her abdomen, furiously pulling the blanket off her, but she saw nothing but an array of thick, ugly burn scars all over her pale skin. Michelle heard herself scream and every muscle in her body protest in agony as she keeled over. There were hands grabbing her. She fought them until something sharp went into her arm, and everything faded to black.

She felt a sense of deja vu when she woke up, she guessed, a few hours later. Berenson hadn't moved. He was typing something on a laptop, but when he noticed she was awake, he shut it and looked at her with sympathy. Her head was swimming. The sedative was still probably in her system. There was a tray of food on the table beside her, but she had no appetite. Apparently, she was truly starting to register what had happened because she felt a horrific sense of emptiness, not the anger or confusion from before.

But even though she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and never wake up, a larger part of her wanted answers, wanted justice, wanted to do something. Under any other circumstances, that skill to detach and remain focused on a larger plan or goal was useful, but here, it just made her feel insensitive. She felt like all the horrible but true words Tony would use to describe her if he were here and knew that this had all been her fault. Maybe it was a blessing he wasn't, because she didn't want to think about how he would have reacted.

"Do…" It still hurt a bit to speak. "Do you have any idea who put the hit out on us?"

"Unfortunately, no, which means that you're still in danger," Berenson said apologetically. "And the members of this conspiracy work high in the government, so we can't follow usual protocol."

Michelle nodded. "I… I remember David Palmer explaining that to me. He just… he said my name would never come up anywhere. He said it was consulting work for you and that it carried minimal risk." The anger returned to her voice with that last sentence.

"The government is going to protect you now," Berenson explained. "I know that sounds a little ironic, given that I've just told you we can't trust them. But I've put together a heavily vetted security detail for you that will keep you safe until you and I see this through. It's a combination of recently retired and recently initiated agents across all departments, including some of the best Secret Service agents and a few from the FBI, to avoid arousing suspicion — believe me, I checked them even more. We'll have people watching you twenty-four-seven as you continue to work."

She blinked at him a few times. "Work?"

"I don't normally ask retired agents to help the CIA, but with this, I have no choice, because I can't even trust my own people. I can't trust the FBI. We can't trust any government agency, or even the presidency."

"Why… I still don't understand  why you picked me."

He smiled a little. "Your work on the Cyprus recording. I would have asked your husband, too, but…" He sighed. "The treason charge made him a liability. It could have rendered any evidence he found null and void. That's why we only asked you."

It pained Michelle so much to think that if Tony had been involved, then she wouldn't feel this guilty now. They had come after her. They had come after her because she had chosen to work for Palmer after agreeing with Tony to leave government work behind. She was a monster, not just because of what she did, but because even now, while her heart was aching, she was still thinking about who else might get hurt because of this conspiracy. She was still thinking about the job over him, and she hated herself for it so much. All the arguments preceding their divorce came to mind: Tony's hurtful words, accusing her of being cold, and her not being able to find a counterargument. The fear of starting those fights again had been precisely why she had kept it a secret. But had she known it would be this dangerous… she wouldn't have kept him in the dark. More than that, maybe she wouldn't have agreed to it at all, although she also hated that she couldn't quite convince herself of that.

"What's going to happen to me now?" Michelle asked.

"Once the doctor is happy to discharge you, we'll take you to a safe-house."

"So, what, I'll be in WitSec?"

He shook his head. "You and I both know a box of hair dye and a new driver's license are not going to do anything to keep you safe. We know these people are already in our systems. In particular, the FBI, whose database manages WitSec. The best way we can counter that is by figuring out who and what these conspirators have accessed."

Michelle screwed up her face at him. "I'll be a sitting duck?"

"Believe me when I say it's far from conventional, but it's the only way we can catch them in the act."

"This… this is insane," Michelle said with disbelief. "How am I supposed to get intel and help you solve this if you're going to put my life at risk?"

"These people are not low-ranking mercenaries. They're smart, power-hungry, and ruthless. They know our protocols. Some of these people might have made these protocols. They know our strengths and weaknesses, so we can't do anything by the book. Your public government file will still say you're dead, but these people are going to be looking at your CIA file, and that's still going to say you're alive."

She looked at him with bewilderment. How the hell would that keep her safe? 

He just smiled mirthlessly. "Normally, when an attempt is made on an agent's life, we hide them, but like I said, they have access to WitSec, they'd find you in no time. So, by keeping you alive... that's going to make them pause. They'll realise that maybe we've got something up our sleeves, and they'll hold off on another attack attempt."

The logic tracked, but it felt so convoluted, and the basis for this strategy was merely profiling of the supposed conspirators.

"Most importantly, your CIA file is now partially encrypted. It's not hard to break, but anybody who does will activate a background trace and install spyware on their device. We believe the software is sophisticated enough to be able to work around VPNs and firewalls. If they try to share that file with somebody else, the software is embedded deep enough that they'll trigger it, too. We'll gain an understanding of the network of people who might be involved, but that's not enough to hold up in court. They might be accessing your file for reasons other than this conspiracy, innocuous ones, even."

She nodded. That seemed a little more proactive, but still, it was a lot of detail to process right now.

"As you keep looking through those documents, we'll have the same software there, too. If they try to follow what you're doing, we're going to know. Once we have a better idea of the network, we can start planting you in the agencies or bureaus where we believe the mole or moles are."

Michelle huffed. "You expect me to keep going with this after having everything taken from me? How do you know they won't shoot me down the second I leave this hospital? That there isn't another bomb waiting in my car for me?"

"They know we're onto them. Nobody's tried to take out O'Brian again, so they're not going to try to take out you, who's being protected. If they do, it'll be during a time that's opportunistic, when the country is already in crisis, not something random. That's... what we hope, at least."

She shook her head a little. She appreciated his candour, but she felt so lost and overwhelmed by all of this. It felt like a mix of poker and a multidimensional chess game, just trying to predict their opponents' strategies, except here, they seemingly knew very little about them and could only make educated guesses.

"I know it's a lot," he lamented. "I know this isn't what you were expecting. But you're our last option, Michelle. Between you, me, and Rebecca, we have to stop this before it gets worse and puts more lives in danger–"

"I've lost my husband and my child, and you have the audacity to ask me to think of the greater good?" Michelle snapped, her voice hoarse.

He didn't fight back or insist further, just continued to look at her with sympathy. 

Her cheek twitched. She wasn't going to sit here and listen to this. Yes, on a rational level, she knew that solving this case was quite literally the only thing she had left in her life. But she wasn't going to do it with a smile on her face and act patriotic and be the good little agent they wanted her to be. No, she would never stop reminding them of their failure in saving Tony. She knew what the protocol was, but they also should have realised that her retirement meant she had had no interest in being put in such a vulnerable state again. Tony should be here with her. Tony should be here, and he wasn't. And it was all her fault.

"Just get out," Michelle said weakly. "Leave me whatever files you want me to look through and go."

Berenson seemed to have no objections to that, so he did, pausing only to say that he was sorry, but she didn't want to hear it. When she was left alone, she rested her head against the bed, covering her face with her hand, and let out the sob she had been holding in. She hated how physically powerless she felt right now. But emotionally, she was prepared to take her pain and use it to put an end to this because there was nothing else for her to do. The only life she was risking now was hers. She had no family anymore. She might blame the CIA for not saving Tony, but she sure as hell blamed herself for putting him in danger in the first place. She would be stupid to let herself get close to anyone again. She didn't deserve that. And they didn't deserve to be another victim of her work. More than that, she didn't deserve to feel that kind of happiness after having had it and thrown it away. 

All she deserved was the satisfaction of hunting down every last member of this conspiracy, even if it killed her.

Renee still had a feeling of repugnance in her gut. She had never lied to Larry, not once, in the nine years they had worked together. The fact that Jack had been here for a mere hour, yet had managed to twist her arm into lying to her boss, and friend, made her angry — especially since Michelle was apparently okay with it. Jack had whisked Renee away from the Columbia building, told Michelle they had a probable location on Almeida, and off they had gone. She still questioned Jack's presence here. Yes, she trusted Michelle's, and, by some extension, the CIA's judgement, but Jack had already crossed so many lines, and Almeida wasn't even in their sights yet. Renee just hoped this would be worth it.

She also refused to believe there was a mole in the FBI. She simply refused. Jack was clearly in denial about Almeida and what he was capable of. That had to be it. He was probably still paranoid from the conspiracies he had seen at CTU. It was a horrible thought to be that distrusting of an institution he had served for so many years. But she wasn't going to let that get in the way of today. Michelle had brought him here for his expertise and connection to Almeida — although she was a little unsure if that connection was a positive or a negative, given how he and Almeida had fought at the docks. She knew, logically, she should have intervened, but frankly, she hadn't trusted either of them to listen to her.

Now, Renee looked through the glass to where Almeida was sitting in an interrogation room. They had taken special care to escort Almeida to the interrogation room without crossing paths with Michelle. Almeida had said nothing so far, not even to Jack, arguably the only other person he might speak to. 

Renee glanced at Michelle beside her. She was unreadable. It was hard to tell whether she was truly up for this. Really, in any other context, having one spouse interrogate another was generally considered inappropriate, a line that shouldn't be crossed. But Michelle had insisted on being the one to do this, and her reasoning made perfect sense. Almeida didn't know she was alive. Ergo, seeing her face would make him show remorse, confess to his crimes, and give up his information that, at this rate, they were solely relying on to get to the CIP device. They still had no idea why Almeida was allegedly doing any of this, although most of them agreed revenge was a likely answer to that question. He didn't have any known associations with cults or extremist groups — Emerson's crew did not fall into that category —  and his profiling indicated that he was shrewd and sceptical enough not to be easily radicalised. However, Almeida did have a history of acting outside the law to protect his wife, so trying to avenge her was not a stretch. They hadn't brought up this theory much around Michelle, not wanting to in any way insinuate it was her fault, although she likely felt that way anyway.

"Michelle, are you sure you want to do this?" Larry asked.

"Yes." She turned to him. "You know it has to be me." 

He nodded. "Good luck, then."

As Michelle opened the door, Renee looked intently at Almeida, wondering what his reaction would be. Jack was standing behind her, Larry on the other side. She was sure they were just as invested in this, Jack especially. It was a hard thing to think about, seeing someone you've known for years, someone you've worked with, someone you've trusted, but feeling like you're standing in front of a stranger. Still, there was no denying that this was harder for Michelle compared to anybody else. Being willing to face him like this was a testament to her strength, as an agent and a person. Furthermore, Michelle had worked more on this investigation than anybody else; it was only right that she be the one to speak to Almeida first.

But as Renee continued to watch Almeida, knowing Michelle was in his view, she saw nothing from him. He simply looked up, then returned his gaze to his lap.

"Oh my God, he knew," Jack whispered.

"Son of a bitch…" Larry uttered. "Now Michelle doesn't even have that leverage. It means Almeida's done everything knowing she was alive."

"How the hell did this happen?" Renee asked. "The CIA was meant to be keeping track of who was looking into Michelle's file."

"Then there's a leak," Jack said grimly, not smugly, just making a point that he had been in this situation before, leaving no doubt that his theory was likely true.

Before they could discuss that, though, Renee realised that Michelle must have made the same deductions because she walked in front of Almeida and slapped him across the face, hard. Larry grimaced.

"How long have you known?" Michelle asked, her voice loud and clear despite the glass. "How long have you known that I'm alive?" As Michelle paced past him, Renee could see an angry, red mark on his cheek. "A week? A month? The whole God damned time?"

"We have to get her out of there," Larry said. "She's not going to be able to do this."

"Yes, she can," Renee defended. "Just give her a chance."

Almeida sat there in silence, still not giving her eye contact, still not indicating any emotion. He hadn't seen his wife in over five years, and right now she was standing in front of him, but that apparently meant nothing. Renee kept looking at Almeida, and then back at Michelle, feeling a pang in her chest as she noticed the slight tremble in Michelle's body. It wasn't out of fear. It wasn't because Michelle couldn't do this, because Renee damn well knew she could. It was the shock, the anger, the realisation that Almeida had made these choices consciously aware that Michelle was alive and out there. It raised more questions about his character, about why he was doing all of this. If it had simply been a matter of revenge, that was understandable. She had watched Michelle blame herself for so long, watched her think that everything Almeida had done was her fault because she was the reason he was grieving. But now they couldn't rule out the idea that Almeida had willingly turned against the government and was working with Emerson and his associates for no reason other than money, power or something else superficial and utterly unjustifiable.

"Fine," Michelle said. "Let me tell you what I know instead. You're working for a man named David Emerson. He has connections to people responsible for the genocide in Sangala. Genocide. We are not talking about a local cartel or a gang. This is huge, Tony." Michelle slapped the papers in her hand against the desk. "So let's cut the shit. You tell me what you know, and maybe they won't execute you for helping this guy." Her voice had been neutral before, but Renee could tell she was gritting her teeth now. "Who knows? Maybe you'll just get to walk out of prison after a few months like last time. But the only way we're going to know is if you tell me what you're hiding."

"You're talking to me about hiding?" Almeida finally said, his voice initially flat and stable. However, Renee noticed the twitch in his jaw and the flush in his cheek that was not a lingering effect of the slap. He then said, much louder, "You looked me in the eye and told me that you were done with all of this. You went behind my back!–" 

"It wasn't supposed to be like that."

"I'm less upset about you working for the CIA and more upset about you hiding it from me. We agreed that we were out. You told me that you wanted this." He shrugged. "Was any of it true? Did you even want to get back together?"

"Of course, I did," she defended. "I thought I was out, and it was what I wanted. I just didn't realise I could be convinced otherwise."

"Then why didn't you talk to me about it?"

"Because you wouldn't have even considered it," Michelle insisted. "You were so protective, more than usual. You would flip out if I went for a run without telling you or was five minutes late coming home."

Almeida crossed his arms as much as he could with his cuffs. "So you're saying this is my fault, my fault, when you put our lives in danger."

She rolled her eyes. "I looked through some files. That was it. Stop making this about me. You're the one–"

"How is this not about you? Those people tried to kill us because you stuck your nose where it didn't belong."

"I never would have said yes if I'd known how risky it would be–"

"See..." Almeida scoffed. "I don't believe that. You're honestly telling me if you had a second chance, you wouldn't do it all over again?"

Michelle tensed, looking away. "I would have at least put us under protective detail."

He laughed derisively. "So that's a yes, then. You just have to save the day. You just have to be the fucking hero–"

"If I'd sat on my hands and then seen what Juma was doing on the news, knowing I could have prevented it, I never would have forgiven myself," Michelle said. "You, on the other hand, have done anything and everything knowing that I was alive, for what, Tony, money?"

"Like that wasn't why you kept the work for Palmer secret."

Renee had to wonder what Almeida's play was here. Here sat the man who once went to prison to save Michelle's life, but now it just sounded like he despised her. He was throwing accusations left and right about things that even Renee, someone who hadn't known Michelle for as long, but certainly long enough, knew she would never do. She had been there for Michelle in her darkest days, so hearing him accuse her of greed like this made her furious. But she had to respect Michelle's wishes. She had to stay out of this because right now, Almeida was talking, and that was what mattered.

"For God's sake, I put the money in a college fund for our son, Tony."

"Yeah." He looked her dead in the eyes. "The son that you killed."

Michelle gasped a little, taking a step back. At that moment, Renee knew the tension consuming Michelle's body was not going to stay hidden under a cool facade for much longer. 

"What did you just say?" Michelle asked, her voice breaking, but the underlying warning was there, like she was giving him one chance, just one chance, to revoke his statement.

"You know exactly what I just said."

"You son of a bitch," Michelle uttered before grunting and launching herself across the table at him. His chair fell to the ground with a loud thud. The table concealed Renee's view, but it looked as though she was strangling him, and Renee believed she was right to do so. Strangely, though, Almeida kept tugging her closer, and not just to try to pry her off him.

Larry called for security, while Jack was already making his way over to the door. They pulled Michelle off Almeida, and she quickly swatted their hands away from her shoulders. She brushed past the two of them and the guards that had been summoned, leaving Almeida wheezing on the ground. 

Michelle stormed out into the hall. Renee followed, watching as she entered her office, slamming the door shut behind her. Renee heard a stifled sob, making her press her lips together. 

Before she could contemplate knocking on the door and going in there to comfort Michelle or going back to the interrogation room to deck Almeida, she heard Janis ask for her from the bullpen. Renee knew that she couldn't let herself be distracted on such an important day. There would be time to talk later. And she was sure Michelle knew this, too, that the two agencies had come so far in investigating this, so they couldn't just give up at the first unexpected element.

But Renee promised herself that she would find a moment to sit down with Michelle and tell her that what Almeida had said was wrong, that it wasn't her fault, that she didn't deserve any of what she had just had thrown at her. Lord only knew she needed to hear it.

Renee had to admit she was still a little bitter about the cancellation of her mission. She had trained so hard, created intimate details of her cover, and become fluent in Russian, but they had somehow deemed babysitting a CIA agent more important. At least they were out of the hospital now, and her task had upgraded from guarding someone unconscious to guarding someone conscious, but… mostly bedbound. Renee still hadn't really spoken much to Dessler, and the senior agents supervising her had insisted on no chitchat to distract from their task. At the same time, with her injuries and the death of her husband and child, Dessler had every reason not to be in a talkative mood.

She didn't know the details, but when Berenson from the CIA had spoken to Dessler in the hospital, she had heard bits and pieces of a very emotional conversation from the outside. It appeared Dessler blamed herself for what had happened, but also held resentment towards the CIA for not saving both of them. Renee couldn't imagine what that was like, having to grieve such a horrific loss and also cope with the guilt over having caused it. In any case, it was clear that this agent was very important to the CIA, hence the excessive security detail. Dessler's CIA file was somewhat encrypted and said she was alive, but her public record said she was dead. It didn't seem she was under official Witness Protection, nor did she have an alias, which was incredibly strange. That being said, none of this was related to the FBI, so not following protocol was somewhat anticipated. All Renee knew was that whatever was going on here was so important that she had been plucked from FBI headquarters to do this security work indefinitely, completely overriding Larry's authority. There were a few other FBI agents with her level of experience, mostly from interstate. Then, in contrast, most of the remaining guards were former Secret Service or CIA, some having retired many years prior. She didn't know much about them, though. Even her shift instructions were individual. She had no idea when or how often any of the others were around.

Her eyes went to the clock. She sighed. Her shift had been particularly uninteresting this afternoon. The three hours of sitting in silence, doing mostly nothing except listening out in case Dessler needed anything, had passed incredibly slowly. It was almost seven now. There were still three more hours to go, and that was assuming the next agent on shift arrived on time. Dessler hadn't left her room. It wasn't unusual. She had mostly stayed in bed after her discharge from the hospital, both out of physical fatigue and having no desire to get up. Still, something was nagging at Renee. It had been too long. It was too quiet.

She stood, walking over to the bedroom door. One of the other agents in the house furrowed his brow at her. Renee knocked once, not loud enough to startle Dessler, but loud enough for her to hear. There was no response. She tried a few more times before announcing that she was coming in, the nagging feeling now more prominent.

Dessler lay under the covers, motionless. Renee took a couple of steps closer and pulled back the blanket. She knew Dessler had frequent nightmares and slept lightly, likely out of paranoia, so the fact that she didn't stir worried her further. When Renee noticed the pale, bluish tinge of Dessler's skin and that she was cold to the touch, she gasped. Just to be sure, she squeezed her shoulders a little, but the limp way she moved only confirmed her suspicions.

"Call for help!" Renee shouted, turning her head.

With a shaking hand, she moved her index and middle fingers to the side of her throat, finding a very weak pulse. Renee then checked her airways and listened for any faint breathing.

She heard footsteps behind her and whipped her head around at the agent as he hung up the phone.

"I've called Berenson. He's on his way with a medical team. I didn't want to risk her name being on any emergency room lists."

She nodded. "Get a towel and soak it in cold water."

The agent disappeared for a moment, also turning on the lights in the process. The warm lighting only made it more apparent how pale she looked as Renee kept repeating her name.

"I've got the towel," the agent said, passing it to her. "I also found her bottle of sleeping pills almost empty. She must have tried to OD."

She cursed under her breath, realising the cloth wouldn't do much good, but tried nonetheless to apply it to her head. Renee could feel how cold her hands were from the cloth, but Dessler was completely unreactive. She then tried to adjust the collar of her crewneck sweatshirt to get access to her chest to start compressions. The elastic was too tight, so she gingerly attempted to pull it over her head. A second set of hands joined her, helping to prop Dessler up. Her lack of reaction scared Renee more than she thought it would. It wasn't the first time she had administered CPR to someone, but the fact that she didn't even know just how long Dessler had been out for terrified her. Now that Dessler's chest was exposed, Renee noticed the thick burn scars that covered almost every inch of Dessler's skin. She had seen a couple on her forearms and neck before, but the scars here were much larger and much more discoloured, the skin beneath leathery and textured. Renee gave them a sympathetic look. It wasn't even just sympathy for her physical pain — really, her coma would have helped a lot with that, even if she would likely have some chronic pain as a result. The sympathy was mainly for the emotional pain of having to look at these scars every time she saw her reflection. These scars would serve as a daily reminder that the choice she had made had resulted in the death of her husband and the loss of their only child. Renee understood now just how guilty, just how ashamed, just how unworthy, Dessler must have been feeling. 

Her compressions and mouth-to-mouth seemed useless, but as she repeatedly checked to see if her pulse was still there, she knew that there was a chance. The medical staff from the CIA announced their arrival, and the agent beside her called out their location. When they came in, Renee let them take over CPR, giving them the details of what she presumed had happened. Berenson was shocked and immediately started yelling at one of the other agents on duty, asking why they hadn't checked on Dessler sooner. One of the doctors grabbed a syringe and filled it with epinephrine, letting them try a few more compressions before sliding the needle into her chest. They paused, waiting for a response, before continuing CPR when they found none.

Just as Renee started to think that all hope was lost, Dessler suddenly jerked in tandem with the doctor's chest compression and started to splutter. She gasped hoarsely, trying to take in as much air as she could. The doctor pulled back to give her a little space, and Dessler immediately pivoted to retch in the bin by her bed. Eventually, she stopped, but made no effort to move. Dessler let out a sob, gradually trying to sit up. When she was upright, there were tears in her eyes that Renee knew weren't just from coughing her lungs up. Renee's heart broke as she realised that while everybody else in the room was incredibly relieved, Dessler was devastated. She curled up into a ball, bursting into tears and wrapping her arms around herself. Berenson went to console her, but she screamed for him to get out, dragging the blanket back up to cover her, and he seemed to know better than to press further.

It hit Renee that the shock of being brought back to life hadn't even fazed Dessler. She was disappointed. She probably felt like she had failed again, and it made Renee's gut sink at the thought of just how much darkness was consuming her.

The medical staff were apparently forthright enough to have brought everything they needed to tend to Dessler and check her vitals. Renee stayed the rest of the night, somehow feeling like it was wrong to leave her. Sure, they had doubled the protection in the house, including someone sitting at the foot of Dessler's now open bedroom door. But even when Renee's shift ended, she decided not to leave, making herself as many coffees as necessary to stay awake.

To her surprise, despite having every reason to sink further into her depression, Dessler got out of bed the next day. Renee was sitting at the table when she came out into the living room with wet hair, wearing a tracksuit, different to the one she had had on for the last how many weeks. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, but she looked more put-together than Renee had ever seen her. However, Dessler's gaze was cold, and Renee realised that she, along with all the other agents, shouldn't gawk at her like a zoo animal.

Everybody was very intent on giving her space, letting Dessler make herself a cup of coffee with some toast, sitting on the opposite side of the table from Renee. Dessler ate slowly and silently. Renee fiddled with her empty mug, checking her phone for messages, feeling like it was inappropriate to leave her, but not quite feeling welcome, either.

"They told me it was you," Dessler said after a while, clearing her throat, and Renee looked up nervously, taking a moment to realise Dessler was speaking to her specifically. "You were the one who saved my life last night."

Renee froze. She couldn't quite tell if she was angry about it — not that it changed the fact that it had been the right thing to do. But there was something very stern in her voice, despite the hoarseness from lack of use.

"Yes. I… I'm the one who did CPR on you." 

Dessler met her eyes, and Renee saw resolve there, resolve that made her able to conflate the woman in front of her with the incredibly capable, high-profile CIA agent she had been instructed to protect. It was like today, Dessler had decided enough was enough.

"Thank you," Dessler said, her voice surprisingly appreciative.

Renee relaxed her shoulders a little. "You're welcome."

Dessler looked down again, finishing the last of her breakfast. Renee almost had to ask herself if that conversation had been real. But then Renee swore, she swore, that Dessler smiled, just a little, and all Renee wanted to do was see it again.

Michelle looked at her reflection in her pocket mirror one last time, letting out a breath. Her mind was still racing, as was her heart. Rage still coursed through her body, but there was panic, too. She had walked into that interrogation room with effective certainty that Tony had no idea she was alive. The CIA had monitored access to her file. They had checked, and re-checked, that none of the people in the estimated conspiracy network were affiliated with Tony. But now, she found herself slipping into a familiar paranoid mindset. If Tony had found out she was alive without her knowledge, then who else had? It was just a reminder of how deep this conspiracy ran and that, until it was over, she had to keep her guard up.

Of course, it wasn't the first time her life and safety had been threatened. There had been multiple attempts on her life these past six years, each one causing the CIA to become more stringent to the point where Michelle only needed one hand to count the times she had been totally alone somewhere. Things had died down recently, though, apparently indicating that the people after her were so focused on their plans that killing her had become somewhat secondary. Still, she was careful. Even within the FBI, nobody truly knew why she was here, not even Renee or Larry. As far as they were all concerned, she was just someone from the CIA who spent a lot of time in her office or in private meetings, passing information between the two agencies, and, well, that was her job, but the motivations were not merely fostering interagency communication.

Now that she had cleared her head a bit, she could acknowledge that what she had learned was actually incredibly useful. The CIA had highly suspected the presence of a mole in the FBI, but now they could confirm that this mole had a direct line to Tony, and likely Emerson, too, based on the incident at Schector's apartment and Tony knowing she was alive. This agent was clearly capable of getting around the software the CIA had embedded in her file. That narrowed things down a little.

There was one more thing she was focusing on, though. Something that she knew without a doubt was important, even if it made no sense: deep sky. Two simple words that Tony had implored her to tell Jack while her hands had been wrapped around his throat. Jack, and only Jack. She desperately needed to get a moment alone with him, out of earshot of any other FBI agents.

But for now, she had spent enough time crying behind a closed door, and she needed to salvage whatever professionalism she had left. She had known it would be difficult to maintain complete objectivity when interrogating Tony, but as soon as he had accused her of the very thing she had made herself sick with guilt over, it had struck her deep to her core. She could only describe her reaction as an out-of-body experience. It had taken a lot of healing for her to stop flagellating herself for the people who had put the bomb in her car and ultimately torn her family apart. So to hear it coming out of his mouth with such bitterness behind it made her wonder how much he hated her.

When Michelle opened the door, she saw Jack and Renee standing and talking in the hallway. Both of them turned to her with concern, but she offered a small smile to try to convey to them that she was okay — at the very least, that she would be.

Michelle led them back into her office, closing the door behind them. While she had never let herself get too comfortable at the FBI headquarters, she felt more vulnerable now than ever. But she trusted Jack, and she trusted Renee, even though she had been advised to treat Renee with the same level of scrutiny as everybody else in the building. Her faith in Renee was not subjective, but Saul would say otherwise.

"I was just saying to Renee that it's likely whoever told Tony about the FBI visiting Schector also told Tony that you were alive."

She nodded, noticing that Jack was giving Renee a slightly discerning look. Jack obviously understood that she must trust Renee, but in his eyes, Renee was just as much of a suspect as anyone else until proven otherwise. It was probably for the best that someone was being utterly impartial, and really, that was why Jack had been such a good candidate for helping her, although Michelle still believed she was being as rational as she could. But the more she looked at Jack, the more she thought about Tony.

"I… I didn't hurt Tony, did I?" Michelle asked quietly.

He gave her a look of sympathy and shook his head. "He's fine. Agent Moss is trying to make him talk, but I don't think he's getting anywhere. He suggested I try, too, but if Tony didn't speak to you, I doubt he'll speak to anyone. Do you have any idea who might have compromised you?" 

"If I did, I wouldn't be as nervous as I am right now," Michelle answered. "I know I've got people after me. That's why the CIA has been keeping track of everybody who has accessed my file. But obviously not well enough because someone managed to tell Tony, and, as you said, they're probably FBI."

"I still have to believe Tony hasn't known for long," Jack said with an optimism she seldom heard from him. For Jack to be optimistic, he had to truly believe his words. He wouldn't lie to be pitiful. "He would have gone looking for you."

"I want to believe that you're right," Michelle said. "But after the things he said, I... I really don't know if that's the case." She felt like she might cry again, but she held strong, shaking her head. "Either way, we need to find out who bypassed the CIA's program."

"We have a lot of analysts, but I doubt they're all capable of that," Renee pointed out. "It shouldn't be hard to create a shortlist based on qualification and clearance level. I can start on that now."

"That'd be great, thanks," Michelle said warmly.

Renee faced Jack. "Since I'd rather not give this to anybody else in the office, do you think you can help me?"

Just as he went to answer yes, Michelle quickly said that she needed to ask Jack about something, which Renee, thankfully, didn't give a second thought. Jack looked at her with confusion, but shut the door after Renee left, per her request.

"Tony…" She took a breath. Her voice had been racing before. She might have calmed down a little, but she was clearly still anxious. "Tony told me something right before Larry pulled me away. More specifically, he told me something to tell you."

His brow furrowed.

She lowered her voice. "Deep sky."

His eyes widened, recognition coming to him quickly. It seemed the spirit of CTU was still alive in both of them.

"As in?–"

"Well, it can't be anything else, right? Maybe… maybe he's working with someone from CTU." Michelle lifted her shoulders. "I-I know it sounds crazy, but–"

"He wouldn't have said it for no reason."

Michelle bit her lip in thought as to who might be on the other end. There were a few people who came to mind immediately, but for all she knew, it could be someone from before she had started at CTU, or maybe Tony was just using this line because he knew it was secure. 

"Call it," Michelle said, unable to remain patient. "I don't want Renee to worry too much if we keep her waiting."

He nodded, and she watched as he typed in the numbers. Every iteration of the dial tone felt like agony.

"This better pan out to something good. I don't know what to believe anymore."

"I know," Jack said with sympathy. "I hope so, too."

When the other person answered, their voice was modulated. Jack stated his name, but held up his hand as though to tell her not to, which was reasonable. She appreciated that he understood how much danger she was in. 

"I was told to call you."

"By whom?"

"Tony Almeida. He gave me this old CTU emergency phone code: deep sky."

There was a scraping noise, like something was being pushed around the receiver.

"It's Bill, Jack."

Her eyes widened. "Bill, what the hell is going on?" she blurted, feeling like she should at least be able to trust him.

"Michelle?" He exhaled. "It's good to hear your voice."

"You know I'm alive?" she said with disbelief.

"Chloe found out and told me," Bill explained. Chloe accessing her file without triggering the CIA's spyware was not that far-fetched, Michelle supposed. But it only made her worry that apparently at least one FBI agent was as capable of her and using those skills nefariously. "I'll explain everything later. Where's Tony?"

"FBI headquarters. He's been arrested," Jack answered.

"Arrested?"

"He orchestrated the terrorist attack today," Michelle explained. "I was interrogating him."

Bill cursed under his breath. "I'll call you back on a secure line."

"Bill–" Jack protested.

"I need ten minutes to set up the VPN."

"We don't have ten minutes."

"Ten minutes," Bill said decisively before hanging up.

She sighed. "Just when I thought this couldn't get any more complicated…"

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Bill will explain everything. He has to."

Michelle did believe that and also acknowledged that they didn't have any more time to waste. She had already hurt her credibility pretty badly with Tony's interrogation. She needed to assert that she was fine and that she was in control of the current situation. So if that meant putting the thought of Bill to the back of her mind, as hard as that was… 

"Renee's probably wondering where we are," Michelle said, looking up at him. "Let's go help her. I'll excuse myself after about eight minutes and come back here. Wait a minute, then follow me." 

"Alright," he agreed.

When they made it to Renee's desk, she looked between them slightly sceptically. It was subtle, but Michelle knew Renee well enough to know she suspected something was up. Obviously, the paranoia of the apparent — well, not apparent, known — but unidentified mole or moles in the FBI was getting to her, too. But Renee wasn't the mole. If Renee were the mole, Michelle would have been long dead. Michelle had decent reason to believe Larry wasn't, either, but that was more of a gut feeling, so she wouldn't assume he was entirely trustworthy.

Michelle wasn't surprised to find her chest tight, her eyes glancing around to see who might be watching her. It had been an adjustment working with so many people after years of essentially hiding out at home or in a private, restricted section of Langley.

"Are you okay?" Renee asked quietly, while Jack spoke to Larry as he approached him.

"Yeah," Michelle lied. "I'm fine."

Renee looked up at her, and their eyes met. Renee could probably tell that she was far from fine, but given the current nature of their relationship, Renee seemed to be resisting any urge to press the issue. Michelle was grateful for that because she knew if she let herself open up even a little, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from breaking down.

Michelle glanced at her watch, and the eight-minute mark was steadily approaching. She smoothly got herself back to her office, claiming she would follow up on a lead out of sight from the bullpen. Jack appeared not long after. His phone started to buzz as soon as he shut the door.

"Bill, stop screwing around," Jack answered shortly. "Tell us what the hell is going on!"

"Tony is not a terrorist," Bill explained calmly. "He's working deep cover. He's working with me."

"We have proof that he tried to bring down two commercial airliners," Jack retorted.

Again, Bill didn't react to his anger, as though he had been expecting this, which made sense. "You don't know the whole story. That's part of an ongoing operation–"

"Operation?" she asked quizzically. "What kind of operation puts hundreds, if not thousands, of lives in danger?–"

"Michelle, please. You both need to listen," Bill insisted, cutting her off. "Our government is corrupt. There are people on the inside who are actively aiding Dubaku and the Juma regime."

She huffed. "Yeah, I'm aware of that. I've spent the last six years investigating it. I'm living with a target on my back because I got too close."

"I know," Bill said apologetically. "But whatever progress you've made at the CIA, it's deeper than that."

That hit her square in the chest. "What do you mean?"

"Look, I trust Saul. I've worked with him before, and I don't doubt that you're both doing some good work." That gave her a small sense of relief. "But this goes all the way to the president's cabinet, Michelle, which is why we're working outside the government."

"You and Chloe?" Jack asked.

"Hi, Jack. Hi, Michelle. It's good to hear from both of you." Chloe's voice sounded further away from the speaker but was still audible.

"You too, Chloe," Michelle said with a small smile.

"I saw the hearing on CSPAN," Chloe added. Michelle could practically picture the scowl on her face. "I can't believe what that senator said to you, Jack. You looked good, though..."

Michelle could tell Jack still didn't like this very much, and frankly, neither did she. They certainly trusted Bill and Chloe, but all of this having gone down outside the CIA's jurisdiction only further complicated the chaos that was this investigation. Michelle still couldn't get her head around why they hadn't contacted her earlier. Likely to protect her identity, she thought. Still, if they trusted Saul, she was sure he would have appreciated them reaching out sooner. They could have been working together on this. Saul could have kept this separate from the main CIA database. He already was, to some degree. However, those thoughts were secondary to one burning question.

"I still don't understand what Tony has to do with this."

"Right," Bill said. "Tony was supposed to be near the CIP module the whole time. With him in custody, we've lost our ability to control it and to attack this conspiracy. We have to get Tony back undercover as soon as possible."

"He's at FBI headquarters, Bill," Jack pointed out.

"I never said it would be easy."

Jack went to protest again, but she spoke first, suggesting, "Wait. There's an FBI agent who can help: Renee Walker." 

"No," Bill said, to her dismay. If she tried to explain why she was more than confident Renee wasn't the mole, then he would probably deny her request further. But this wasn't going to be easy to pull off; they needed all the help they could get. "The FBI has been compromised. Somebody in the Bureau is aiding Dubaku."

She rolled her eyes. "I know it's the Bureau, that's why Saul planted me here. But Renee's not the leak, Bill. I trust her with my life." 

He must have detected the sincerity in her voice, because he thankfully conceded, saying that they could do whatever they had to do to get Tony out. Jack met her eyes, and there was some sympathy there. She was being subtle about it, but she wouldn't put it past Jack to connect the dots that she and Renee were more than just colleagues — had been, at least.

"You do realise by roping her into this, you'll be making her a target. It's also likely that she'll lose authority to work on the case."

She bit her lip. If it was one thing Michelle didn't want, it was that. She couldn't do that to Renee. "Alright, we'll do this ourselves, then."

"Do whatever you have to do, just do it quickly," Bill insisted worriedly. "Chloe's getting into the FBI's system now. She'll help you. Call me back when you're ready."

The dial tone sounded, leaving the two of them in stunned silence. Michelle soon realised that her fears about jeopardising Renee's position at the FBI also applied to herself. There were still things she needed to do at the FBI before the truth came to light.

"Jack, if this gets me off the case… Saul's not going to be able to get me back in without revealing that the CIA has a plant in the FBI." Her words started to quicken, so she took a breath. "I've spent every second since that day working on this case. I can't afford to lose my position here."

"I won't let that happen," Jack said with assurance. "I think I've got a way of making sure you have plausible deniability."

While the thought of one of Jack's plans made her nervous, Michelle couldn't deny that he could get out of a situation like this. It might be chaotic, but it was likely to work, and with her despairing urge to know what the hell was going on... she had no choice but to go along with it.

The plastic of the syringe felt cold and slightly ticklish against Michelle's skin. She was somewhat reminded of the time she had smuggled a syringe of epinephrine in her skirt so she and Tony could revive Jack after he stopped his heart. While she didn't blame Jack for any of what had followed, she couldn't deny that that decision had been the start of it all. She supposed what she was about to do came with about the same level of anxiety, although she wasn't at risk of killing anyone here. Michelle glanced at her sleeve to ensure the syringe wasn't visible, taking a breath. She couldn't believe she was about to do this, but she knew she had to. It was the only way to keep Renee safe. More than that, their plan had enough risk as it was; if Renee saw what was about to happen, she would do everything in her power to stop it, and Michelle didn't doubt she would succeed.

"Hey, you wanted to see me?" Renee said, opening Michelle's office door.

She nodded. "Yeah. Can you shut the door?"

Renee did so, then walked towards her. She had the same look of concern from before, which, as terrible as it felt to think of it this way, was exactly what she had been hoping for.

"Are you okay?"

Michelle didn't have to hide the worry and overwhelm on her face. It was very much real. She shook her head. "He hates me," she whispered. "Tony knew I was alive, but it didn't matter. He did all of it because he hates me."

Renee softened her expression, closing the gap between them. She went to hug her but resisted, like she didn't want to overstep her boundaries, instead opting to rest her hands on her biceps. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I-I wanted to pull you out of there, but I knew it was important for you to see it through."

"It's okay. I should have… I should have stopped myself." Michelle pursed her lips, her voice wobbling. "Everything went out the window as soon as I realised he wasn't surprised to see me. B-Because it means that we have nothing. He did those things to hurt me–"

Renee was quick to hush her and pull her into her arms, and Michelle couldn't deny it was what she needed. "There has to be more to it. We'll figure it out. Larry's still interrogating him." She didn't sound like she was trying to be facetiously hopeful. It was more that she was trying to assure her that they were doing everything they could.

Michelle sighed. Ever since their break-up, it had been hard to even act like friends, instead returning to a very cordial, professional relationship devoid of any softness or care beyond human decency. It had formally lasted for about three weeks; it had been too hard simply because they still cared about each other, at the very least as friends. But now it was so hard when a hug lasted longer than it should, or reminiscing over the past went too deep, or they still found themselves picturing each other on either side of the bed when they woke up in their homes alone. The break-up had changed things, but Michelle stood by it because, at the end of the day, it had been to protect her. It didn't change the fact that they still had feelings for each other, though.

And that was exactly what Michelle was taking advantage of right now.

Michelle leaned into her touch more, resting her cheek against her shoulder, prompting Renee to hold her tighter. Her arms slipped around her waist, and Michelle deftly allowed the syringe to fall into her palm. She positioned her hand carefully and looked up at Renee so their eyes could meet. They were so close to each other, and she couldn't deny that it felt right, her body remembering every second together with so much warmth and adoration. For a second, Michelle thought Renee was going to kiss her, which gave her the final push to drive the needle swiftly into her upper arm. 

Renee stumbled on her feet, immediately looking beside her at the empty syringe in her arm, and then back, with a combination of shock and hurt.

"Michelle–" Renee gasped with panic.

"I'm sorry, Renee," Michelle whispered.

Renee tried to fight the sedative, but with the dose she gave her and how fast-acting it was, she was out in a matter of seconds, collapsing on her like a rag-doll. Michelle gently laid Renee on her side on top of her desk. The look Renee had given her made tears prick her eyes. She hoped dearly this was going to be worth it. Michelle walked to the door, locking it from the inside. She looked back at Renee one last time, praying she would understand.

When she met Jack in the hall, she furiously wiped under her eyes, refocusing herself.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Michelle dismissed. "Bill better be right about this." She looked up at him and noticed he seemed to be similarly apprehensive. They started to walk in lockstep over to the bullpen, and she spotted the bulge of a gun in his jacket pocket. She had given him her keycard, which he could hopefully claim to have stolen once the records showed this later — if they were around to be debriefed, that was. He also had an earpiece in, likely already on the line to Chloe and Bill. "Are you sure this plan is going to work? How do you know they won't try to kill you?"

He shook his head. "You're too high profile. They won't take the shot."

She trusted him. She did. But his plan was insane. It was the best they could come up with, and if it worked, it would result in the best possible outcome, but she still couldn't stop herself from thinking about everything that could go sideways.

"What if you're wrong?" Michelle said quietly, now that they were in the vicinity of more people.

"I'm not," he affirmed. "Just follow my lead, and I will get us out of this."

What Michelle also didn't like was that she didn't know the plan's full extent; it was the only way for it to look believable to everyone, particularly Larry. However, they weren't civilians: they were trained agents; they could tell when people lied, and although she wasn't completely readable when she wanted to be, she still worried she might give herself away. That was another part of why she had had to make sure Renee didn't see this. They knew each other too well.

She was broken out of her anxious spiral by the sound of gunfire and the feeling of Jack's arm roughly wrapping around the front of her body, trapping her against his chest. When he pressed the gun to her temple, he did so quickly but gently. The muzzle was warm, and she noticed some particles of plaster on her shoulders from where he had shot the ceiling. Her throat felt tight, and as she looked around, several guards had their guns pointed at them. Jack did his best to let her cover as much of his body as possible to ensure they had limited, ideally, no opportunity to take a shot. Larry strode forward, shoving past analysts who stared, dumbfounded.

"If you want Michelle to stay alive, you're going to do exactly what I say." The tone of Jack's voice sent a chill down her spine. It was hard to remind herself that this wasn't quite for real. "If I see any of your men try to shoot, she dies."

Larry immediately signalled for the guards to stand down. One of them protested, and he repeated the order with more urgency, as if he wanted to berate the guard for suggesting something as moronic as trying to win a fight with Jack Bauer.

"Bauer…" Larry then said calmly, the way one would talk to a feral dog. "Whatever you want, we can sort this out without bringing Michelle into this. You know the FBI isn't the only agency that cares about her well-being, and you're already in hot water with the senate hearing." Jack tightened his grip in response to those words, making it harder for her to breathe. "Let her go, and we'll talk."

Jack shook his head. "Release Tony Almeida, or she dies."

He blinked at him a few times. "Almeida?– You?– What do you want with him?"

"Quit stalling," Jack said, ignoring the question. "You just said how important Michelle's life is. Release him, now."

"No," Larry dared to say. "No. Non-negotiable. Let her go. My men outnumber you. They won't hesitate to put a bullet through your skull."

Jack scoffed, flicking the safety off, which made Larry's eyes widen. Michelle didn't exactly have to fake her fearful response this time. She had heard Jack put it back on after shooting the ceiling, which had given her comfort, but she should have realised he might want to use it to make a point. "You sure about that? You know who I am and how long I've been at this for, and so do your men. If they miss, her death will be on your hands. You'll be at the CIA's mercy."

Larry's cheek twitched. "How do I know you won't kill Michelle anyway?"

"I don't want Michelle to die," Jack explained calmly. "I just want you to release Tony Almeida. Do what I ask, and I'll let her go." 

Larry huffed. "God, I knew it was a mistake to bring you in." He looked at Michelle with concern. "I'm sorry he's not the man you thought he was, Michelle, but I can't afford to risk this."

She nodded fearfully and together they followed Larry to the holding room. When Tony met her eyes, he was shocked for a microsecond, but quickly processed what was going on. His stony facade soon returned, and he went willingly as the guard released him.

"Now," Jack resumed once Tony came behind him in the vestibule of the interrogation room. "We're going to walk out of here without any trouble. You, and only you, can follow us outside, and then I'll release her."

"No. Release her now."

"I think you've forgotten who's in charge here, Agent Moss," Jack said coolly. "I already have someone in your system. With one phone call, we can wipe you out."

Larry sputtered. "You're what?"

"Don't believe me? I can give you a demonstration."

The lights started to flicker, and the screens in the vestibule went black. Michelle wondered if Chloe was enjoying this little display of theatrics. Larry frantically ran over and tried to click, but to no avail. "How the hell are you doing this?" Larry demanded, craning his neck. "Who's working for you?"

"Not important. Don't make me change my mind about our deal."

He exhaled, his expression softening and worrying when he looked at her. "Fine. Follow me and I'll escort you out of here."

They made it to the ground floor, and at every turn, she worried that a sniper was ready to take them out. But Larry seemed at a total loss. He didn't seem to have a way out. He hadn't even clicked that Renee was nowhere to be seen in all of this. They just had to get outside, and, hopefully, Bill was already there. Jack's grip maintained its ferocity. She could tell Tony was concerned but trying not to show it. The little flickers when Larry wasn't looking reminded her that Tony was still the man she once knew deep down — she hoped, at least. Other than the knowledge of his involvement with Bill and Chloe, it was hard to discern that, not after what he had said. Still, her heart was racing at a mile a minute, so it was nice to know somebody else was just as worried about this as she was — or, at the very least, visibly worried. She was sure Jack might have some qualms, too, but he was much better at pretending he didn't.

When they stepped out into the sun, Michelle spotted an unmarked cobalt blue van. It had to be Bill. Couldn't he have chosen something a little less conspicuous? 

"Alright, enough, Bauer," Larry said sternly, regaining his voice. "I can see your ride's here. There are no shooters on the roof. I've done everything you've asked. Now, let her go."

They were just inches from the back door, Tony's hand already prepared to pull it open. Jack still had her in the same position. He loosened his grip slightly and quietly told her to start walking forward. She met Larry's gaze as she did so, and he maintained eye contact with her, looking with concern, but still glancing at Jack behind her. They came quite close to each other, and Michelle was pretty sure that Larry would have a weapon on him to take control, which was not what they needed, not when they were so close. 

But then everything seemed to happen all at once, in a way that reminded her just how long Jack and Tony had been working together. Tony lunged to grab and practically throw her into the back of the van, the shock making her scream out Larry's name without even thinking. As Larry tried to come after her, his body started to convulse, and he collapsed. She saw the wires of a taser extend out in front of them, making her grimace. At least Jack hadn't shot him, but it made her wonder how much of the FBI's weapons arsenal he had raided. 

The door slammed shut and Bill took off without warning. Michelle felt herself slide around the back, desperately coughing, not realising she had been so restricted. She gingerly rubbed her neck, her vision slightly blurred with tears. When she finally got ahold of her breathing, both Jack and Tony were looking at her worriedly. 

"Sorry," Jack said sheepishly. "Had to make it look real."

"It's fine," she replied with a slight rasp.

Jack glanced at Bill, who drove urgently, but not fast enough to arouse suspicion from cops who might be parked. He said nothing, and neither did Tony, who looked incredibly guilty, which, unfortunately, was an expression she remembered all too well on him. A part of her was tempted to try strangling him again, still seething. But it was superseded by one, her litany of questions and the acknowledgement that he would need to be conscious to answer them, and two, the understanding, based on how Jack was looking at her, that he probably wouldn't let her get very far, even though he didn't seem very happy with Tony either.

"You better start talking," Jack bristled, looking between Bill and Tony. "Both of you." 

When Larry's eyes opened, Agent Park was hovering over him with concern.

"Agent Moss? Where's Agent Dessler?"

It took Larry a moment to realise what he meant. Then it came back to him. Bauer holding a gun to her head. The look of terror on her face. Releasing Almeida. The computers going down. A scream.

"Put an APB out on her, Bauer, and Almeida," Larry said with as much authority as he could. "Now. She's been kidnapped."

He groaned as he tried to stand, feeling gravel stick to his skin and dust all over his clothes. He should have known better than to trust Bauer. If it hadn't been for his very credible threat that his associates had hacked into the FBI's system, he would have tried harder to reason with him. As he glanced at his watch, he calculated that he had been unconscious for about ten minutes. He needed to track down that van, fast. As he went to call Renee, it suddenly hit him that he hadn't seen her for even longer. Not since… Where the hell was she? 

Larry made his way back inside as fast as he could. When he made it upstairs to the bullpen, everybody looked at him expectantly and worriedly, still in fight-or-flight mode from Bauer's actions.

"There was a blue van that came onto the premises about ten minutes ago. Find it," Larry ordered.

"I-I'm still trying to kick out whoever's in our system," Janis replied, clearly shaken up. "What's going on?"

"Bauer and Almeida were working together, that's what's going on. They took Michelle, and that blue van is the only way we have of getting her back."

"Does Renee know?" Her eyes widened. "Hang on… she wasn't there when Bauer took Michelle at gunpoint, was she?"

He shook his head. "I need to find her so she doesn't hear the news from somebody else. Where is she?"

Janis shrugged. "She was here, then Michelle called her to her office. Haven't seen her since."

That didn't sit right with him. He thanked her and made his way over, immediately finding the door locked. Larry yelled out her name and tried the handle some more, but eventually, it opened from the other side. Renee looked about as frustrated and disoriented as he had probably looked when he had woken up. Her hair was slightly messy, and there was a hole in her shirt on her right shoulder, along with a tiny red circle. 

"Michelle was kidnapped–"

"Michelle drugged me," Renee said gruffly, cutting him off.

"What?–"

"What?" she asked, much louder than him.

Before Larry could try to explain, Renee held up an empty plastic syringe. "She called me to her office. She pretended to be upset, but when I got close to her, she sedated me." There was so much betrayal in her voice. Larry couldn't imagine how upset she must feel.

"Wait… that doesn't make sense."

"Well, that's what happened," Renee said, annoyed.

"No, no, I believe you," Larry clarified. "But it doesn't add up. Michelle drugs you, then Bauer holds her at gunpoint–"

She gaped at him. "Bauer what?–"

"He told me if I released Almeida, he'd let her go."

"And you complied?" Renee exclaimed. "Are you insane?"

"I couldn't afford to risk her life, you know that. Then he tased me, and they took off with her."

She furrowed her brow, finally releasing her anger and processing what had happened with immense worry. "Oh my God. Almeida took her? He could try to– Are we looking for her?"

"I've got Janis on it."

Renee slumped her shoulders. "Then... then one of those things had to be planned. Either Bauer forced Michelle to drug me to control her, or… the kidnapping was all an act to get Tony out. I- This doesn't make any sense."

"You're right," Larry agreed. "Was Bauer there when she drugged you?"

"No."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's an awful lot of trust on his part to just assume that she did it."

As soon as she clicked what he was implying, she gaped a little. "No. I refuse to believe that she did that on purpose. Whatever they're up to… she would have brought me in on it. I know she would have."

"Maybe it was to protect you. Or maybe she was afraid you'd catch onto what she was doing."

She still didn't appear convinced, frowning slightly. "Show me the footage of Bauer taking her hostage. If we can see any sign that they looked coordinated, then I'll accept it." 

"Alright."

Together, they walked back to the bullpen, stopping along the way to ask Janis for an update. She said that it appeared some of the traffic camera footage had been looped or wiped, so their chances weren't good, which did nothing to allay his worries. 

Larry was concerned about Michelle's well-being, but he was also concerned about how Berenson would react when he found out he had let their liaison get kidnapped on his watch. The FBI and CIA had never gotten along, historically. Larry had initially been very hesitant to allow a CIA liaison in their office. It was rarely done. Usually, the heads of the agencies could convene; they didn't need a person to go back and forth. But when Berenson had explained that the CIP device and technology thefts were linked to something larger, and classified, of course, he had insisted that a CIA agent supervise their investigation. He wasn't a fan of most CIA or CTU agents — when they had still been floating around DC. They invented their own rules and usually had no regard for well-established systems and laws that the FBI prided itself on upholding. It made locking horns a very frequent occurrence. 

However, Michelle had been different. While she wasn't tied to the same obligations as he was, she did seem to care about and respect the way he ran things. It made him respect her in turn, appreciating her authority and expertise on a case she had worked on for several years. Unfortunately, their initial interactions had come with a side of awkwardness: he had known about her and Renee's relationship, and how it had ended. They had seemed happy together, but when Berenson decided to nominate Michelle as the liaison, she had abruptly broken things off between her and Renee. He didn't know the intimate details, but he did know that Renee had been very hurt by it. Nonetheless, it was clear that the two of them still had feelings for each other; he hoped they could reconcile once this case was over.

Of course, that wasn't going to happen if she was missing and at the mercy of her terrorist ex-husband and his deranged partner in crime.

He asked Sean to bring up the security footage of the bullpen, pausing at the moment when Bauer had grabbed her. It had all been so abrupt, but Michelle trusted Bauer and had known him for a long time... it wasn't unreasonable to theorise that they had planned something together. Sean rewinded further, playing from when Michelle excused herself from Renee's desk. Bauer followed her after a minute or so. They stayed in Michelle's office for some time, then Michelle went out to the medical ward, and he went to their weapons arsenal using a keycard he wasn't meant to have  — Michelle's, likely.

Renee folded her arms as she watched Michelle enter her office, only one of them coming out a moment later. Then, Bauer and Michelle met up again, calmly walking to the bullpen. Sean played the moment of Bauer holding her hostage frame-by-frame, zooming in on their faces. Michelle looked a little skittish, initially, but then completely terrified as the gun came to her head. It was still hard to tell whether it had been rehearsed or real.

"She's not even fighting him," Renee muttered.

"I mean, it's Bauer. I wouldn't try my luck if he had a gun to my head."

She looked at him. "Still, she knows him. She could have used that, but she completely went along with it."

"Renee, maybe she was just scared," Larry offered.

"She could have tried to resist," Renee insisted. "She's stronger than she looks."

"Speaking from experience, Renee?" Sean quipped.

She shot him a dirty look. "Shut up."

Larry sighed. "Can we get footage inside Michelle's office?"

Sean nodded and switched the screen to show Bauer and Michelle standing close to each other. Bauer had a cell phone out, likely on speaker. Private offices didn't record audio for security reasons, and it was too hard to read lips because the footage was blurry. Everything seemed… fine. From what Larry could tell, they were both worried but remained calm. Then Michelle passed Bauer her keycard, without any kind of coercion, which seemed to indicate that Michelle had indeed been in on this.

Renee looked defeated, but still undeniably worried about Michelle. He was processing his own shock, too. It was possible there was more to it, but for now, it was reasonable to assume Michelle and Bauer had orchestrated this stunt to get Almeida out. Larry wanted to believe there had been a good reason for it. She wouldn't play Renee like that. More than that, he had been there when Michelle had found out Almeida was alive. She had been so heartbroken, particularly as she had learned what he had been doing. Combined with how she had interrogated him, it didn't quite add up to assume it had all been part of some scheme. God, this case had already been such a head-fuck, and now it was only getting worse...

"Janis, have you tracked the van?" Renee asked.

She shook her head.

"Has Tanner been stabilised yet?"

They had been so preoccupied with Almeida that Larry had forgotten another one of Emerson's mercenaries had been detained.

"Let me check…" Janis typed for a moment. "Yeah, he's out of recovery."

"I'm going down to the hospital to talk to him."

Although that wasn't an unusual step to take, for some reason, that set off alarm bells for Larry. With Michelle's life potentially on the line, was Renee really in the right headspace to go out and do this? She had already gone behind his back with Bauer in the process of getting Almeida, and he was still struggling to trust her completely. He hated to treat her like this, but she had left him no choice.

"Renee," Larry said firmly, following her as she went back to her office.

"I'm not just going to sit there reviewing footage, Larry," she said shortly, loading her gun. "If Bauer's people got into our system, there's not going to be anything for us to use. But Tanner's got information, and I'm going to get it out of him."

He wasn't going to be able to stop her without suspending her on the spot, and, even then, there was a fire in her eyes that he didn't want to mess with. It felt a little ridiculous to think he was the head of the FBI, yet not only had he let himself lose an important agent, getting tased in the process, but now he was also about to let another agent go off to interrogate a suspect, unsupervised. But the fact was, they needed to get Michelle back. They also needed to get Almeida in their custody again before any planes could crash for real. More than that, they needed answers from all three of them. And he was sure Renee needed answers from one person more than any other. He couldn't believe he was about to let her do this.

"Just be careful, and don't do anything crazy, alright?" he said warily.

"I'll be careful," Renee said, meeting his eye. "But I'm not promising anything."

Larry called out to her again, but she ignored him, walking to the elevator and shutting the doors before he could get another word in.

It felt a little inappropriate to take a gun into a church, but given her situation, she hoped that whoever was up there would forgive her. Michelle felt like she was being watched, stopping every few seconds to peer over her shoulder. Her security detail had probably figured out she was gone by now, so if anything, it was likely them. Still, she wasn't going to be stupid enough to assume that nobody was lying in wait to get her. That was the reason for all of this, right? The CIA had insisted on implementing extensive security measures both in the hospital and now after. She had to wonder how much of it was out of necessity and how much of it was an effort to control her, seeing as she was still furious with them. They needed her badly, and they did not shy away from pointing that out. Michelle didn't mind. She wasn't going to give up on the case despite her world having come crashing down. It simply wouldn't be worth it if she did. 

However, she would never forgive them for letting her husband die. 

While Michelle didn't make a point of bringing it up, whenever that day did arise in conversation, she could still feel a deep-seated rage within her towards the CIA. She wondered if she would ever let go of that. Even if they decided to give her the highest commendation they could, would she ever be able to look Saul in the eye and say it had been a pleasure? She cared about her work deeply, she did, but she wasn't going to look past that. It wasn't a matter of displacement, though. No, the only person she hated more than the CIA was herself. Even though they had apparently deduced the people who had put the bomb in her car had largely done so as part of framing Jack, and not directly because of the work she had been looking into, Michelle was sure at least one person involved had to have had some motivation to take her out, regardless.

The worst part, though, was that the danger hadn't gone. The more she investigated, the more connections she found, which made her cognisant of just how risky all of this was. Palmer couldn't have known how deep the conspiracy ran. She didn't fault him for that. Despite having so many people surrounding her, protecting her, and willing to put her life before theirs, Michelle felt lonelier than she had ever been. She wished dearly she could go back to work in an actual office, but Saul was still trying to implement more security measures at Langley. At the same time, by this point, six months out of the hospital, she felt suffocated. She just needed some time by herself, which was why she had snuck out in the middle of the night. It hadn't been easy, and really, it would have alarmed her if it had been. But several months of observing the guards' routines — although Saul liked to change it up quite often — meant she had known roughly where people were positioned at all times, and been able to slip past them. She hadn't gone too far, just walked to a small church close to her safehouse. Michelle hadn't ever been particularly religious; however, since Tony had been buried in Chicago, and she was somewhere in the outer suburbs of Washington, this was the closest she would get to having a private moment to talk to him somewhere that wasn't her bedroom.

Walking outside alone had been enough of a change, the sensation of crisp wind brushing her skin waking her up more than coffee ever could. It was so peaceful this time of night that it made Michelle realise that she really hadn't been outside enough since even a walk around the block was a huge ordeal to organise. She had been doing most of her physical therapy using a treadmill, and given she wasn't overly achy or puffed out from the walk, she supposed it had paid off. She knew people in Witness Protection usually got dogs for added feelings of safety. Even though her situation wasn't quite Witness Protection, she figured that maybe if she had one, she could use the excuse of taking it for a walk to get some fresh air for herself, too.

As Michelle entered the church, she wondered if there was a priest still around somewhere, seeing as the candles were still lit and the doors were wide open. Otherwise, it felt empty. The light helped to make it feel less eerie, but she was still keeping her guard up. Michelle walked into the vestibule where the candles were. She dropped a coin into the donation basket, finding the rattle jarring against the silence. Looking at the array of candles there, she wondered how many people were suffering as she was. Well, she doubted anybody was in her exact situation, but she was sure some of these candles were for deceased loved ones. She placed two unlit candles side by side, picking up one of the lit ones to let one catch the flame, and then the other. 

At this short distance, the smell of the candle and incense was a little much, so she coughed, pulling back momentarily. Vivid images, not unlike the ones that usually plagued her sleep, flashed in her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut. While smoke generally never meant anything good, it now served as a horrific reminder of that day, and she tried to avoid it at all costs. But the smoke aside, even the simple action of thinking about Tony and their son, watching the two flickering teardrops of light, made her chest hurt. She took a breath, and it got caught in her throat, tears springing to her eyes. 

Michelle proceeded to the central part of the church, shakily sitting down in a pew and burying her face in her hands, muffling the sob escaping her. At this point, she really hoped there wasn't a priest at the back somewhere because she didn't want to talk right now. She didn't want to have to explain why she was here to someone who couldn't possibly understand.

"Dessler."

Or an FBI agent. 

Not bothering to wipe her tears, she twisted in her seat to see Walker standing behind her. There was a look of concern on her face, but judging by how she was standing with her hand on her hips, she was clearly pissed off, too.

"How the hell did you get out?"

"I've been bored shitless. Let's just say it made me more observational," she replied flatly. 

Walker shook her head in disbelief. 

"God, can't I be alone for just ten minutes?" Michelle said before she could reply, her voice cracking a little. 

She raised one eyebrow. "Considering that it's my job to protect you and that you're technically still on suicide watch, no, not really, Michelle."

Michelle huffed, turning back around and resting her elbows on her knees. She realised Walker was probably particularly mad given that she had narrowly saved her life last time. Michelle wished it could have been enough. She wasn't going to try to take her life again, she could say that much, but it didn't make living — existing, really — any more appealing.

Walker spoke into her radio, informing someone that she had found her. Michelle didn't care if Walker dragged her back to the house by the ear. Walker had seen her at her worst; it was hard to feel particularly embarrassed by anything anymore. To Michelle's surprise, though, she didn't make any motion to force her to leave, and simply sat next to her in the pew. 

"I'm sorry for what you're going through," Walker said, biting her lip. "I, uh, I know you've heard it from everybody, but I do mean it. I admire the fact that you're still working for the CIA doing… well, whatever you started doing for them in the first place. Not like they've told me."

"Thanks," Michelle said quietly.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, and Michelle found her presence more comforting than she thought it would be. She still wished she had had more time by herself, but also acknowledged it would only have been a matter of time before someone tracked her down.

"Did coming here help you, at least?"

She thought about it for a moment and then nodded a little.

"If you want…" Walker cleared her throat. "If coming here helps you feel better, maybe we can work something out. I doubt you'll go alone, but we can try to give you more privacy than you've had."

The corners of her mouth upturned a little. "That'd be nice."

Michelle took that as her cue to get ready to leave, letting Walker lead the way, keeping a hand on her holster. Walker suddenly froze in her tracks, and although Michelle couldn't see anything immediately wrong, her gut seemed to agree with her. Her eyes fell to the large doors, particularly the observation that they were closed, when they had been wide open before.

"You didn't shut those when you came in, did you?" Michelle asked, but she already knew the answer.

Walker shook her head, walking forward to try the doors, only to find they weren't budging. She cursed under her breath. Michelle doubted they were locked in for a trivial reason. No, now she felt very aware that she was trapped inside a place she didn't know with a single guard to back her up.

As Michelle went to ask Walker what to do, Walker looked up and behind her, her eyes widening. 

"Get down!" Walker shouted.

Before Michelle knew it, there were gunshots echoing off the marble floor of the church. Michelle quickly took cover behind the doors to the main part of the church, feeling Walker's hand plant across her chest, pinning her against the wall. There were multiple shooters, by the sounds of it, their bullets ricocheting off the hinge of the door. Walker shouted something into her radio, but raised her gun, obviously prepared to defend the two of them in the meantime. Walker quickly ducked her head around, shooting a few rounds and gathering a quick scope of how many people were out there. But before she could retaliate, she moved back. This happened a few more times, and she estimated there were four shooters, all of whom had moved closer to the vestibule.

Michelle felt a little useless just standing there. And she did have her weapon with her, too.

"Cover me," Michelle said. "Let me get to the other side of the doorway, so we can both return fire."

Walker shot her a puzzled yet authoritative look. "The hell you will." 

"You can't take them by yourself."

"And you are not allowed to do this," she rebutted, reloading her gun. "The other agents will be here any second now."

When Walker tried to shoot again, she cursed under her breath. Before, Walker had looked justifiably stressed from adrenaline, but now she genuinely looked worried.

"What?"

"They've gained on us again." Walker let out a breath. "Fuck this, I'm not waiting for them."

This time, Walker was successful in firing back, judging by the sound of two distinct winces. Instead of pulling back, however, she decided to try her luck at shooting more of them. She managed to hit another one, but as she did so, she cried out in pain and fell back onto the floor. Michelle saw blood splatter onto the floor. In the candelight, she could also see a small wound starting to form near Walker's hip, just below her vest. The remaining shooter continued to fire, and Michelle heard the sound of car engines and footsteps. The other agents had obviously gotten there now. She dragged Walker towards her so she was out of the hostiles' lines of fire, smearing blood over the light-coloured tiles as she did so. Her breathing was laboured, and she desperately started applying pressure with her jacket on the wound.

"Shit. I'm sorry," Michelle said worriedly. "I'm so sorry."

Walker weakly shook her head, her expression devoid of anger or resentment. "It's fine. It's my job," she rasped, before grimacing at the increased pressure.

Michelle grabbed her radio and started asking for a medic, but thankfully, a few of the other agents heard her panicked yells and found them in the church, busting open the doors with a large bang. She wanted to stay with Walker, but one of the other guards, an older former Secret Service agent, gruffly took her away and led her to the car so they could go back to the house. A familiar, overwhelming sense of guilt rose in her chest. If she hadn't snuck out, this never would have happened. If Walker didn't make it, she would be entirely responsible for her death, and she was completely ready to blame herself. She would have blamed herself anyway if one of the agents protecting her died, but in this case, she had put herself in danger voluntarily. She had been an idiot, an idiot, for going off on her own. Saul had claimed any attack on her life wouldn't be obvious, but a locked church with no security cameras would have been the perfect location for someone to take care of her quietly. They had probably followed her and taken refuge in the back of the church through another entrance, which also meant they probably knew where her safehouse was.

Michelle realised that she must have been very deep in her spiral, because she didn't register the other agent telling her that they were home now.

Thanking him quietly, she waited for the agents to check over the interior of the house before washing up and getting ready for bed. By now, the early hints of sunrise were starting to show. She didn't think she was going to get any more sleep, but she couldn't fathom doing anything but lying down, staring at the ceiling and worrying.

"Walker's in surgery now," the guard said as she went to close the door.

She nodded. "I'm… I'm so sorry for all of this."

"It's fine, but don't do it again."

Michelle looked at the floor.

"Look…" His voice softened. "It's hard being cooped up in here, I get it. But I've protected a lot of people over the last fifteen years of my career, and I don't think I've ever had to deal with a case like yours. So just remember... we're here for a reason, and we're going to protect you with everything we have."

She certainly didn't feel worth it. But she didn't want anybody to die because of her. Not again.

Michelle followed Jack down the stairs of the loft. Bill and Tony hadn't said anything on the way, despite Jack pressing them both. While Michelle trusted that they were safe here, it didn't stop her from feeling incredibly unnerved. She couldn't think of a time over the last six years when she hadn't, if she was being honest. When she was around people she trusted, the feeling subsided, but never disappeared completely. What was at the forefront of her mind was Saul finding out she had been 'kidnapped'. She needed to tell him she was fine, but she also didn't think that she was going to get the chance here.

"What is this place?" Jack asked.

Bill smiled. "We like to think of it as CTU. What's left of it, anyway…" 

A familiar voice said her name, and Michelle found herself looking at Chloe when they made it to the basement. "I… I'm glad you're not dead. I mean, I've known that for a while, but it's nice to see you. Same to you, Jack."

"It's nice to see you, too," Michelle replied.

"I'm glad you're with us," Chloe said, looking up at Jack.

Jack shook his head. "I'm not with anyone until someone starts answering some questions."

Michelle's phone buzzed in her pocket. It was Saul, as expected.

"I need to take this."

Before she could do so, Tony plucked the phone from her hand. "Not in here. Not now."

She huffed, glaring at him. "Fine." The car ride hadn't been long, but it had been long enough for her to mostly calm down from the adrenaline of Jack taking her hostage, such that all the anger she had felt earlier was resurfacing with a vengeance. "Let's get on with the questions so I can tell them to call off the search for me since I'm guessing you don't want them to raid this place." Her cheek twitched as she met Tony's eyes. "Where the hell have you been?" She jabbed a finger into his chest. "I spent five and a half years thinking that you were dead. I mourned you. I blamed myself day in and day out–"

"I was dead. For almost ten minutes, or so I was told. And I could say the same thing about you, Michelle." His stony facade came back up, but she could tell he was struggling to maintain it. 

Michelle realised she hadn't really thought about that much, him waking up and hearing the same news as she had, him having to find out much later that she was alive, him mourning her... It wasn't nice to think about. But she was still too angry and in too much disbelief to have a heart-to-heart with him like that.

"By who?" Jack asked.

"David Emerson," Tony answered. "I don't know who he paid off at CTU, but it was his people who injected my body with a hypothermic compound and were able to revive me."

Although information on Emerson had been scarce, she did know that all of his operatives had one thing in common: a grievance against the federal government. It explained why Tony had ended up there. But with the revelation that Bill and Chloe were involved, maybe it wasn't as straightforward as she had thought. They were apparently working together, so maybe everything she had been reading had simply been part of his cover, a way for him to get close to people like Dubaku. If that was the case, she would be immensely relieved, as would Jack, she was sure. However, the fact that Tony still looked so guilty inclined her not to get her hopes up.

"And since then, you've been working undercover to expose his operation?" It appeared Jack had come to the same optimistic conclusion that she had.

"No."

Jack took a step back. "What?"

"I was really working for him."

"You were what?" Michelle gasped, her voice betraying all of those emotions from when she had first seen that CCTV footage and his profile had been updated from Deceased to Missing. 

He wouldn't meet her eye. "I was angry. I hated the federal government for taking you from me. I ran Emerson's crew for more than three years, and I did some pretty bad things." His voice broke. Tony not seeming proud of his actions helped a little, but he didn't quite seem sorry, either. What was worse was the possibility that he was only reacting like this because she was here, not because he believed he had been wrong.

She closed her eyes. Everything they had thought was true. Tony's grief had fuelled him into a monster. Although it seemed it had been temporary, the damage had still been done. Part of her tried to think about what would happen after today, if they made it out alive, that was. Tony would go to prison. She doubted there would be a way for him to avoid it. She tried to think about them, about talking through everything. But there was just so much; she didn't know where to begin. Of course, this was also under the assumption that things would finish today. Who knew if they would truly solve even part of this conspiracy in the next twenty-four hours?

"What made you turn against him?" Jack said, still just as shocked by his betrayal, it seemed.

"The CIP device," Tony answered. "Emerson had my crew stealing components to breach the firewall. I knew what that meant. Innocent Americans would die. And I didn't sign up for that."

"Damn it, Tony!' Jack exclaimed. "Why didn't you call the authorities?-"

"More than that, if you knew I was working for the CIA, why didn't you call me?"

He went to answer, and it was clear he was feeling the shame from her and Jack's questioning, so Bill did so for him.

"He couldn't. One, he only found out that you were alive recently, Michelle. Long after Chloe and I got involved. And two, he found out Emerson's client was Dubaku."

She sighed. "And we know Dubaku has agents inside the FBI and Taylor's cabinet."

"The Juma regime controls Sangala's vast diamond wealth. Dubaku hasn't been shy in throwing it around," Bill elaborated. "That's why Tony came to me, since he didn't know how far or high up this thing went. Chloe and I have reason to believe it's even more pervasive than what you and Saul have concluded."

"Yeah, of course you won't consider that your precious CIA's been corrupted, too," Tony muttered.

She rolled her eyes, turning to him. "Christ, do you even hear yourself? You are unbelievable. I'm not working for the CIA: I'm working for Saul and Rebecca. We're using the CIA's resources, but we're not being that stupid." 

"Doesn't matter. People can hack files or plant bugs. Nothing outside of this room is safe. Why can't you understand that?"

Michelle pulled at a section of her shirt, flashing one of the burn scars on her collarbone. Tony reacted to it immediately, despite the anger in his expression. "Don't tell me I don't know what safe is. I've spent the last six years living in fear–"

"And whose fault is that?"

She scoffed. "You really want to start this again?"

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "I don't think we finished it. You need to start living in the real world, Michelle. Every second you help the government, you're helping the people who ripped our family apart, more than once–"

"If it wasn't for me, this conspiracy would still be buried–"

"You?" The proximity was making her shake the way Jack restraining her had. "I'm the one who's getting my hands dirty and actually doing the work."

"Enough!" Bill yelled. "Both of you. We have to get to Dubaku, and we have to get him today before he leaves the country. We don't have time for this. Tony, you need to get back under as soon as possible."

Michelle sighed, moving away from him. She was almost surprised by how many times she had to inhale and exhale with intention before she felt like she could calm down, and even then, it was like his mere presence felt like a snake constricting her chest.

"What's the next step?" Jack asked.

"There's a new job in the pipeline," Tony began, briefly glancing at her with concern. "For me and my crew. I don't have all the details, but I do know that it'll get me in the same room with Dubaku himself."

"The challenge is going to be reinstalling Tony with Emerson," Bill said. "We have to assume Emerson knew Tony was in FBI custody and somehow managed to escape."

She narrowed her eyes. "Escape? He'll think you cut a deal. Emerson's tenet is loyalty."

"But if I come with Tony..." Jack said. "I can vouch for him and explain how and why I got him out."

"What about me?" Michelle asked.

"You need to stay hidden as you have been," Bill said with concern for her. "You can rough yourself up a little to look like there was a struggle. We'll give you a car to get back to the FBI and say that you escaped. That'll keep the FBI and CIA off our backs in the meantime."

She nodded. "Alright, I can work with that. But if I don't like where this goes, I will bring Saul in, and you won't stop me. We're on the same side here."

Bill conceded, and while Tony didn't appear pleased, he didn't protest. Bill then looked expectantly at Jack. "What about you? Are you in?"

"I don't know what to believe right now, but you're the only people I can trust, so fine."

"Chloe, set up the call with Emerson and help Jack build his cover. Make sure there's no contradictory details in what the FBI has filed and what he tells him." He then turned to Michelle. "I'll get the car ready for you."

That left her and Tony in the same room. Her arms were still folded. While she certainly felt better knowing that Tony was on their side, she still couldn't push past the fact that he had willingly worked for Emerson for several years before deciding to draw the line about his activities.

When she met his eyes, his expression was much softer than it had been in the interrogation room or even before. He seemed to have noticed that she wasn't quite okay yet, and he looked more like the Tony she remembered. Everything felt very quiet now. Tony took a few steps forward, slowly, his hands in his pockets. It was hard to think of him and the man she had argued with before as the same person.

"Look, uh…" Tony said quietly after a moment, having recomposed himself. "About before, I didn't mean what I said. I just wanted to get you close enough to give the code."

For a moment, she had forgotten about the most hurtful thing he had said in the interrogation room — rather, she had blocked it out. Tony sounded apologetic, but there was truth to what he had said, so she couldn't totally believe it. Granted, enraging her had worked, and she wasn't sure how he would have given her the code otherwise. 

"You don't have to lie to protect my feelings."

"No- Look, I… We might have our differences about some things," he amended. "But I don't blame you for what happened to the baby. I might have felt that way a long time ago, but not now. Not anymore. I've forgiven you."

Michelle pressed her lips together. That meant more to her than either of them probably realised. Even with her work to forgive herself, to hear it from him was a big deal. But she wasn't about to start this line of conversation because it wouldn't stop, and she couldn't let him lose focus. It felt strange to think that she had never acknowledged her grief over their son with him until today. When she looked up, she noticed a red mark on his throat. There were also a few scratch marks across his cheek.

"I'm sorry for hurting you," Michelle said glumly.

He shook his head. "I don't blame you for that, either."

There was a beat of silence. He still seemed to be watching her. Maybe it was the fact that they hadn't had a moment like this in what felt like a lifetime — and, really, it kind of had been. But there was still something almost caring there.

"What?"

"You're shaking," Tony pointed out.

She consciously tensed her body. "It's fine." 

"Today's not the day to pretend. You need to be in the right frame of mind for this," Tony rebutted. "You've been like this since the van, and not just because of me."

"Don't worry about it, it's stupid," she dismissed.

He laughed a little. "In all the years I've known you, whenever you've said something's stupid, that's rarely been true."

Michelle supposed she had no choice but to be open about it. He was right.

"I've spent a long time looking over my shoulder. I've had a lot of people try to kill me. So when Jack grabbed me without warning, it... freaked me out a little. And it reminded me of when Saunders' men took me."

Tony nodded, the pain from that day creeping into his expression.

"I'm sorry," Tony said genuinely.

She shrugged. "I haven't thought about him or that day in years. What happened just hit a little too close to home. I'm fine. I promise."

"Everything's ready to go, Michelle," Bill said, reentering the room and holding up a pair of car keys.

Tony passed her phone back to her. "We'll keep you updated."

"Good luck."

He smiled slightly. "You, too."

Agent Walker was hospitalised for a few days, or so they told her, and, in that time, Michelle sent her a large bouquet of flowers, some chocolates, and a card containing a detailed apology — unsigned, but she was sure Walker would know who it was from. Walker then spent another couple of weeks at home on bedrest. Michelle heard nothing back from her, not even a passed-along thank you for the gifts. She didn't blame Walker: her stupidity and selfishness had nearly gotten her killed.

Although her failed suicide attempt had somewhat jolted her out of her depression, the shooting at the church had been a punch to the gut. People wanted her dead so badly that even holy ground hadn't been able to protect her. No matter how claustrophobic and terrible Michelle felt trapped inside all the time, it wasn't worth the lives of her security team, especially when she believed they should be protecting innocent civilians, not a CTU-turned-CIA agent who had kept pushing the limits of fate and had now paid the price. While Michelle was aware that she was helping the CIA solve a very big and dangerous conspiracy, other than that… she didn't really feel worth protecting. Everyone close to her had died or otherwise suffered because of her actions. Nothing would change that. Even if she got to the end of this, and the CIA gave her a medal for it… she didn't have anything left. All she could do was work for the CIA and keep the country safe until her luck ran out, and she, too, met her demise. It was a grim outlook to have on life. But somehow this was still a step above feeling like everything was pointless.

However, to Michelle's surprise, Walker showed up for her routine shift at the beginning of the next week. Walker was situated inside the house (they had moved Michelle somewhere new now), and there were a few extra agents there — there had been since the night at the church — but she was still here to protect her. She could have easily taken this as an excuse to get transferred to another assignment. She was in the early stages of her career; there were far more exciting things she could be doing with her time. But here she was, walking gingerly, but still intent on performing her duty here.

Walker must have noticed her staring because she furrowed her brow. "What?"

Michelle blinked at her a few times. "N-Nothing. I just didn't expect to see you back here."

"A bullet won't stop me that easily, Dessler." Renee smiled grimly.

"I, uh, I didn't mean that. I meant, why are you still on this job?"

She shrugged. "Because until whatever threat you're under passes or at least eases, I'm on the very short list of people allowed to be near you."

"Still, that's…" Michelle let out a breath, "twice you've saved my life now. And both times, it was because of something I inflicted on myself."

"Then consider me your knight in shining armour."

Again, she was so taken aback by Renee's kindness and how unfazed she was. Sure, it came with the eagerness of an agent not yet harrowed by loss, but she could have just as easily been angry at her. She could be resentful, spiteful, vengeful, even. But, clearly, she wasn't.

"If anything, I should thank you."

"Thank me? Why?"

"Doing this was not in my five-year goal plan," Walker explained. "I had been preparing to go undercover. I put months of effort in, then the day before I was meant to leave, suddenly, my boss tells me that I've been reassigned to WitSec. I was so mad. I assumed it was going to be playing Go Fish with some drug lord who cut a deal with the Attorney General. As soon as I learned about you, I felt a little better. At least there was a credible threat. At least I would be protecting someone who deserved it. Then I got to save you, not once, but twice, and it… reminded me why I went into this in the first place. I wanted to protect people, and I wanted to help them."

Michelle could certainly understand that. It was why she hadn't been able to say no to Palmer when he had enlisted her help. Serving the greater good came before everything else. It wasn't that she was putting the job before her loved ones. On the contrary, it was because she cared about her loved ones that she had done this. When Palmer had explained the situation to her, all she had thought about was the kind of world her son would grow up in. She had told herself that if she could play a part in making it better and safer, then why shouldn't she? Still, Michelle knew that not everybody saw it that way. If Tony had survived to learn he had been collateral damage in her choice, she didn't think he would have been okay with it, despite how much he had assured her the day they got back together that it was okay for them to have different priorities. Just thinking about Tony made her chest hurt, so she quickly tried to put him out of her mind — an impossible task, but she at least managed to blink away her tears.

"I appreciate that, Agent Walker. It's… it's good to have you back here."

"You can just call me Renee." She met her eyes. "But, you're welcome, Dessler. It's all worth it to keep you safe."

Renee probably had no idea how much it meant to her to hear those words. 

"If you want me to call you Renee, then you can call me Michelle. It's not like I'm using an alias."

"Will do then. Although I won't lie, that still makes no sense to me. If you're really that high-risk, you should have a fake name and enough plastic surgery to make you unrecognisable." She held up her hands. "But, if that's what the CIA wants…"

It was certainly an unconventional situation to be in. Under any other circumstances, nobody should know her real name. She shouldn't be living under a consistent alias, and everyone protecting her would have plausible deniability. But through starting her work, she had come to understand more and realise that Saul had been right about this move. The CIA's background trace program had already turned up a lot of high-profile, surprising names. Even if they weren't all complicit, it gave her a pretty clear idea of what she was up against. And although the incident at the church had been frightening, Michelle was making a valiant effort to channel that fear into something productive: continuing to stop the conspiracy. The more names she could get, the more people they could keep an eye on, and the closer she would be to living a little more normally.

"I'll put it this way: complex cases require complex methods of protection."

She laughed. "That vagueness sounds about right for a top-level CIA operation."

Michelle managed a smile. She hadn't smiled very much lately. But as she did so, she realised she should do it more often.

As Michelle drove off, she called Saul back. She wasn't far from the FBI office at least, but Saul needed to know first. Larry and Renee could wait. She also didn't want to apologise to Renee over the phone: she deserved to hear it face-to-face. It was the least she could do.

"Saul, it's me."

He exhaled. "Thank God, you're alright. What the hell happened?"

"It was all an act. Jack took me as leverage to get Tony out. Tony's not actually working for the Juma regime." Saying the words out loud made her feel better, but it didn't undo the nagging reminder that he hadn't always been on their side. "It's… it's complicated, but he and some ex-CTU agents are working undercover to get access to the CIP device."

"Ex-CTU? What?– So they're working on their own?"

She huffed. "Yeah, I know it's not convenient."

"Damn right, it isn't," Saul said, annoyed. "They're just doing everything we've been doing but keeping it private. Whoever they are, tell them we're working together."

"I know, I know. And I told them that, but right now it's too much of a risk to Tony's cover, and mine."

He lowered his voice, his tone cautious. "You sure you trust him?"

"Do we have a choice?" Michelle responded. "If he's able to get close to Dubaku, then this might be our only chance."

"I don't like this. They're taking our case, your case."

"Which I will reclaim once I get back to the FBI. Look, I've got to go." 

When she made it to the boom gate at the FBI's entrance, one of the guards there recognised her and immediately spoke into his radio with alarm. He allowed her to park in the guest bay, since her car was still in its rightful reserved spot. After gently coming to a stop, Michelle took the chance to look at her reflection in the rearview mirror one more time. She had messed up her hair, unbuttoned her shirt a little, and smudged some of her makeup. Hopefully, it would look convincing. Larry had certainly looked afraid of Jack. And given that he had never really trusted her completely, based on his general apprehension towards the CIA, she was sure the story would be plausible.

As Michelle came up the elevators and entered the bullpen, she was met with the wide stares of other FBI agents. But then her eyes went to Larry, who stood with his hand on his hips, surprised, but not as relieved as she had anticipated.

"I escaped and found a car," Michelle explained. "They tried to follow me, but I lost them."

There was a pause. "Did Bauer tell you to say that, too, or are you improvising now?"

It took her a moment to click. Larry had figured it out. Likely, Renee, too. If anything, Renee had connected the dots first. So much for plausible deniability.

"What?" Michelle asked, trying but failing to feign ignorance.

"Cut the shit, Michelle," Larry said sternly but quietly. "In my office. Now."

She obliged, and he shut the door behind them. 

"What the hell was that stunt you pulled?"

Michelle sighed. "I will explain everything to you and Renee, but it has to stay between us."

"Yeah, well, that might not be easy because she's out doing God knows what looking for you."

Michelle pressed her lips together. She should have known Renee might try to do that, but at the very least, she could have organised a search team. If she was out there on her own…

"Where?"

"She went and interrogated Tanner at the hospital. But she's not returning any of my calls, and now Janis has told me that his lawyers are on their way." His voice then softened. "She might be pissed that you drugged her, but she's still worried sick about you."

Now, she really felt guilty. Renee learning the truth had been inevitable, but Michelle almost wished she had been upfront and looped her in. The thought of Renee doing anything and everything to find her made her feel both fondness and deep fear. Renee had gone to great lengths to protect her in the past, so there was no limit on what she might be doing now.

"I lied to protect her," Michelle insisted. "It will all make sense, just let me explain."

"Alright." He huffed. "I should be suspending you for this, or worse, and I'm sure that's one thing Berenson and I can agree on."

The phone on Larry's desk rang before she could start explaining — what she trusted she could disclose, at least; she didn't want Larry to know everything just yet, but she would give him a decent-enough story that wouldn't get her taken out of play.

Whoever was on the other line didn't say much before Larry worriedly responded, "I'll be right over." He hung up, then looked at Michelle with apprehension. "Janis said she has something on Renee," he explained, his words ominous.

When they got to her desk, Janis had a slight grimace when she met Michelle's eye. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad audio recordings again, but..." She clicked play, a gruff, unrecognisable masculine voice, stating, "Walker is extraneous. Kill her before you get here."

Michelle felt her breath catch in her throat. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, not once, but twice, consecutively, but she ignored it. While she admired the fact that Renee had apparently tracked down Tony and Jack without much to go on except sheer determination, and had likely gained some useful intel in the process, all she could think about was how she had put her in danger.

"Can you trace it?" Michelle asked.

"I've been combing through it, looking for a tag that will give up their location." Janis looked at Michelle with concern. She was Renee's best friend, so she knew about their relationship. Janis probably didn't think too highly of her, given the nature of their breakup, but she was kind to her nonetheless.

Larry tried to look in more detail, and Michelle took the chance to check her phone. The text was from an unknown sender. It was a set of coordinates, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, which confused her. 

But the second text made her blood run cold: hurry she needs u. bill and chloe otw.

There was only one person that 'she' could be referring to. Getting this text had to mean there was a chance Bill and Chloe wouldn't make it in time.

She had to get to her.

Michelle walked towards the elevator, ignoring Larry's calls of her name. Renee was her only focus. It didn't matter if Renee hated her when she found out the truth, so long as she was okay.

After putting the coordinates in the GPS, Michelle drove as fast as she could. Larry rang her multiple times, but she refused to answer. She was too busy deftly swerving between cars, and speeding through every yellow light, praying she wouldn't be pulled over, hyperaware that time was ticking for Renee, her heart racing.

When Michelle drove onto the construction site, her eyes widened at the sight of the blue van from before. Although nobody was working on the site today, there were big craters of dirt and equipment strewn about, so she ended up parking further away than she wanted to, getting out and following the tyre tracks and footsteps. Her hands were shaking.

"Down here!" Chloe called.

Michelle made her way over to the ditch, where Bill hovered over a familiar, motionless figure on the ground. He was pressing on her chest and trying to give mouth-to-mouth, but to no avail. 

Chloe stood nervously, biting her thumb. "Jack didn't hit any arteries when he shot her, but she was suffocating under that tarp for almost ten minutes."

Michelle blinked at her a few times. "Jack didn't hit any arteries when he what?"

"He pretended to kill her so Emerson would trust him." Chloe pressed her lips together. "We gave her epinephrine, but I don't think it's working. I hope we're not too late."

Compelled by guilt and a desire to fix this, Michelle told Bill to move, who did so without hesitation, and then bent down, resuming compressions immediately, her vision blurring with tears as she paused to blow air into Renee's mouth. Michelle realised now she understood the worry Renee must have felt all those years ago when she had performed CPR on her. She hated herself for having made Renee feel like this — even though her feelings for Renee were not what they had been back then.

"Come on," Michelle uttered. "Don't die before I can tell you I'm sorry. Please."

Just as she felt Bill's hand on her shoulder, ready to pull her away, Renee started spasming and coughing violently, wheezing between breaths. A few particles of dirt came out of her mouth, and her eyes darted around frantically.

"You're okay. You're okay," Michelle said, helping her to sit up, still fighting her tears. Renee leaned into her instinctively.  

She had almost lost her. God, she had almost lost her, and the day had barely begun.

"Breathe, sweetheart, it's okay," The term of endearment rolled off Michelle's tongue so instinctively, she didn't notice. Out of the corner of her eye, Bill and Chloe seemed a little surprised, understandably. It wasn't like their relationship had ever been documented.

Renee took a moment to catch her breath, and when she was finally doing so steadily, she closed her eyes. Michelle tucked a hair behind her ear, still muttering to her.

But it appeared Renee remembered how she had gotten into this situation in the first place because when she opened her eyes, she stared Michelle down with fury, her cheek twitching.

"What the hell is going on?"

As the van took off, Tony couldn't help but let his eyes wander out the back panel towards the construction site. He had sent that text as quickly and discreetly as he could have, but the combination of the pretty bad graze Jack had given Walker and the plastic tarp made Tony nervous. He supposed it should affirm to him that he really was honouring his old self by not wanting more innocent lives to be harmed, particularly after nearly crashing two planes together this morning. However, his motivation had also been rooted in the look Jack had given him, supplemented with a quick comment that Walker was important to Michelle. Tony had the feeling Jack knew something he didn't, or wasn't supposed to, but there hadn't been a chance for him to press him for more information. Frankly, right now, all Tony felt was conflicted. Having Jack here, as nice as it was to see him again, was very risky. Seeing Michelle this morning was messing with his head, too — although he had managed to hide it pretty well.

"It's all set," David said as he hung up and resumed his seat. "Nichols is on his way with the diamonds."

Tony gave a curt nod, aware that David was staring daggers at Jack. Even after that loyalty test with the gun, he clearly still didn't trust Jack, and why the hell should he? But Tony really wished he would. He wished David would trust Jack because he trusted Jack. David's perpetual, paranoid desire to make his own judgement and try to catch Jack at a weak point only made Tony more apprehensive.

"Is something bothering you, Jack?" David asked.

Jack looked at Tony pointedly, then back at David.

"No, I was wondering... why you never told Tony how you got him out of CTU."

David met Tony's eyes, his expression akin to a parent scolding a child for keeping a secret. But David had been the one to start this. David had always withheld what he felt was necessary. Even with the intimacy that had developed between them, he had never fully disclosed everything, and made Tony feel bad for asking. Tony was pretty sure that building resentment had ultimately driven him to contact Bill and Chloe.

"How did you do it?" Tony questioned.

"Christopher Henderson."

Jack looked sceptical. "Christopher Henderson tried to kill him."

He tutted. "Henderson had no intention of killing Tony. He purposely missed the artery when he injected him. It was just enough to slow his heart to the point where you'd think he was dead." 

Their gazes met again, and Tony couldn't get over how David was talking about him like he was a prized pet dog, a possession, an asset, not... a man he had loved and cared for. David never liked to be public about their relationship, but sometimes the way he spoke about him hurt because there was truth to it. David really did see him like that.

"My job was to extract and revive him, and... use him against you."

"And?"

David just shrugged a little. "By the time I stabilised him, you had already killed Henderson. Mission had failed. So, my team went dark." 

"Why didn't you just let Tony go?"

Tony stiffened as David simply said, "Tony chose to stay with us."

Jack's eyes bored into him, but he kept staring ahead, his eyes bright. It was incredible how viscerally his body reacted to a mere mention of those early days. That torrent of emotions, that confusion, that horrible gaping sensation in the depths of his core. He remembered being angry. He remembered being a loose cannon. He remembered trying to leave, more than once...

"He was consumed with hatred and anger over what the government had done to Michelle."

Jack looked away at that part, clearly still blaming himself, for which Tony wished he wouldn't.

"Anyway... I talked to him."

But then he remembered letting David's words sink in, being open to the idea of channelling his anger into something more prolific.

"More importantly, I listened to him," David said, clearly trying to prove a point to Jack, knowing about the similar relationship they used to have. "Pretty soon, he came to realise that... I was right."

David had pointed out all the ways he — and Michelle — had been screwed over all this time. He had never really villainised Michelle, not nearly as much as the government. It had only been later, when they both had learned she was still alive and working for the CIA, that David had started to talk about them as the same entity and tried to convince him that the government had poisoned her and that he should still want to avenge her as though she were dead.

"About what?" Jack asked, although his voice sounded very quiet now. Tony couldn't quite focus. He felt like he was separating from his body, like his mind and his soul were back in that deep, dark place. He paid less attention to his surroundings, vaguely aware of the moving shadows from the sunlight.

"That the rules had changed," Tony recited, his voice wobbling a little, those words having been a mantra for him for all this time, a consistent principle to hold onto, "and there was nothing such as honour left, that we would have to take care of each other like brothers."

Jack looked at him like he didn't even recognise him, the way he had when he had admitted that he had run David's crew voluntarily in Bill's loft.

"His own wife chose the CIA over him," David then added, the words like a knife through Tony's chest no matter how many times he had heard them. "Tony needed someone in his corner, and I've been that person for him."

Litvak then announced that they were almost there, and both he and Jack regained their focus soon enough, the way they used to at CTU, when even after the worst of disagreements or blatant arguments, they would always snap back. But Tony still struggled here, more than he should. That conversation, combined with everything he was holding back from David, the guilt having amplified tenfold, was making it very difficult to remember what he was supposed to be doing. All he wanted to do was get on his knees, confess everything, and beg for forgiveness, but he doubted he would get anything other than a bullet in his head, and that would mean failing his only goal: getting the CIP device into the right hands. It wasn't the time. If he had wanted to tell David everything, they had passed the point of no return. He just had to get through this meeting.

But then, as they started to prepare, Tony felt his stomach drop when David grabbed Jack too quickly for him to retaliate and pressed the muzzle of his gun to his head. Tony raised his weapon in retaliation, although his hands were still clammy, and it felt so wrong to point his weapon at either of them.

"You better tell me what the hell is going on," David demanded.

"Drop the gun, David."

"You know, I just couldn't figure out your play, so I tried to give you some time to come clean, because we are like brothers, right, Tony?" David asked, gritting his teeth.

His finger was trembling as he said, "Put the gun down, David."

David scoffed. "You actually think that I would let you steal those diamonds from me?"

So he thought it had been about greed? That couldn't be further from the truth. Once upon a time, he and David had been on the same wavelength to an almost frightening degree, but now, he had driven a wedge between them. He had failed David. The version of him that David thought he had created would have resented Michelle and wanted to go through with the CIP device plan just to spite her. But he couldn't do that to her, and he couldn't do that to Jack, either.

"It's not about the diamonds," Tony explained. "It's about killing innocent people. I can't let you finish this."

Everything became a cacophony. Jack was yelling at him to take the shot. David was telling him to withdraw his weapon. Litvak was somewhere in his peripheral vision, also armed. He couldn't do this. He couldn't—

He pulled the trigger.

Should David...

• Die? ⇥ Go to Chapter 9-A
• Survive? ⇥ Go to Chapter 9-B

"Let me see it," Tony urged, but David shoved his hand away. "Let me see it!"

This wasn't how this day was supposed to go. He hadn't felt right about it, not that he had misgivings about trying to do the right thing; that was all he had tried to do lately, particularly since learning that Michelle was alive. But Tony had intended to explain everything to David, most critically, that he had only been trying to protect him. David was all he had had for such a long time. He would never betray him like that. Yet here he was.

Tony tried to think of who he could call, but doubted any member of David's crew would be keen to help if they found out whose fault this was, particularly since Litvak was dead, too.

"This wasn't about the diamonds, David," Tony explained, realising with great dread that this might be his last chance to tell him the truth. "You crossed a line I wasn't willing to. I'm sorry."

"If you're looking for forgiveness… go to hell," David spat. "You… live with it."

In the background, Tony could hear Jack trying to convince the Matobos to go along with the plan, even though it might endanger them further. Tony really should be there with him so he could have a say in how this would go down. But all Tony could do was watch as David mustered his draining energy to look at him with scorn and deepen the guilt in his heart. Tony hated himself for not being honest from the start. He should have trusted David to understand. Every lie had been like another brick on his back, but now this was going to destroy him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, feeling tears well in his eyes and almost unworthy of trying to save his life. 

David's breaths were uneven and took great effort. Tony could tell he was in pain. He was dying slowly, but doing everything he could to make Tony aware of that. He wanted him to feel the pain he was feeling. But, eventually, David stilled, his eyes half-mast. With a shaking hand, Tony shut them. He wanted to throw up. He was so overwhelmed by everything around him, all he wanted to do was shake David back to life and beg him to take him back, if only for David to kill him with his bare hands. He still couldn't take his eyes off him, hoping that maybe, just maybe, David's anger from his betrayal would keep his soul alive. 

The grief was so familiar, too. Michelle might not have died by his hand like this, but the memories came back uncontrollably, to the point where Tony had to steady himself on the couch. He remembered holding her in her arms. He remembered how angry she had been earlier today. He remembered her look of disgust, almost unrecognition, when he had told her that he really had worked for David. That look had indicated to Tony that even if they did make it out alive today, things would never be the same between them. He felt entirely unworthy of her love, despite the contempt he had held towards her. At the end of the day, what she had done had ultimately been noble, and he admired her for it as much as he resented her for it. It started to dawn on him that he might live the rest of his life alone. Perhaps one of David's crew members would kill him to avenge David. But the truth was, nobody had loved David and been loyal to him like Tony had — at least, not until about a year ago.

Tony was suddenly aware of a hand on his shoulder. When he turned, Jack looked at him and then down at David with concern. Tony realised Jack had been saying his name.

"The Matobos are going to work with us." The words brought him back to reality. "We've got to go."

Tony nodded. "Let's get the bodies out of sight."

He attempted to do so with great difficulty, and Jack seemed to be aware of this because he stopped him from moving David's body and instead instructed him to take Litvak.

By the time they did so, a car pulled up outside. Nichols hadn't tried to contact David to confirm the meeting, so it had to be Bill. He was accompanied by Chloe, Michelle, and Walker. There was dirt on her white shirt, and her neck was bandaged. She glared at him when she walked past. He wondered how much Michelle had told her. Tony blinked back his tears when Michelle looked at him, but she tilted her head at him, walking over.

"What happened?"

"David figured out I was double-crossing him. He tried to kill Jack, and I shot him." His voice broke a little, and she seemed to notice. "He's dead."

"Are you alright?"

Tony wiped under his eye. "I'm fine."

She obviously didn't believe him. He couldn't figure out how to tell her just how close he and David had been without widening the growing wormhole of grief. Of course, it was also awkward given that she was his wife — not that he assumed she hadn't had any relationships while he had been 'dead' to her, too. It just wasn't the time or place to get into this.

"Tony..." 

"David was more than just my business partner, alright?" he snapped.

But Michelle didn't seem upset or even fazed. It was inconsistent with her reaction to him working for David. Surely, the knowledge that he had been intimate with David had to make her judge him more. But all he could see in her expression was genuine pity. She could apparently separate her feelings about that from this, and simply understand that he had lost someone important. God, what had he done to deserve her?

Before either of them could attempt to continue the conversation, Chloe called out to ask for help with the trackers they were planting on the Matobos. When Jack did so, Michelle went back to where Walker was sitting in the back of the van. Tony had noticed Michelle's eyes flit to her a few times. 

As Tony came to help Chloe and Jack, he realised he could hear Michelle and Walker talking, their voices at a low volume but not a whisper.

"You alright?" Michelle asked.

Walker scoffed. "You drugged me."

She sighed. "I know."

"Then Bauer shot me and buried me alive," Walker said gruffly. "How do you think I'm doing, Michelle?"

"Emerson would have killed you," Michelle reminded her. "I'm sorry we had to keep you in the dark, but we didn't have a choice."

"Yes, you did. You could have trusted me. You should have trusted me." 

Even though she didn't seem to want to air her dirty laundry, still keeping her voice low, Tony could tell how upset she was based on her tone. Tony wondered how long Walker had worked with Michelle. Long enough, it seemed, for them to be arguing about trust.

"I do trust you," Michelle said calmly but with assurance. "But if I'd told you this at the FBI, would you have believed me?"

There was silence for a moment. It seemed Walker didn't want to answer that.

"I'm going to go help Chloe with the transmitters," Michelle decided with a defeated sigh.

When Michelle moved into his view, Tony quickly tried to look busy, muttering something about finding out Nichols' ETA. He got a glance at Walker, who was now helping Bill with something. She had the same look of anger on her face as before, but there was something sad there, too. He couldn't blame her, he supposed. It reminded Tony of when George had told him that Nina was a mole; it had been so unbelievable to try to fathom it, but it had been true. He wondered how long Walker had been an FBI agent. Perhaps she was still green enough to believe that everybody who served their country did it for patriotism and genuine devotion with no ulterior motive. When he had thoughts like this, they were almost jarring now. It was all David. He knew that. But he couldn't deny there was truth to them. If it wasn't for him believing what David had told him, at least a little, he wouldn't have been so easy to turn. However, Tony could say he hadn't been as much of a loyal servant to David's cause as he had once thought. After all, he never would have cared about the CIP device if that had been the case.

Tony watched from the corner of his eye as Michelle moved back to the van, where Walker was leaning against the side. Walker staggered a little on her feet, and Michelle was immediately aware of this.

"Hey, you okay?"

She nodded. "Just a little dizzy."

"Sit down," Michelle said gently.

"I'm fine–"

"Come on," Michelle encouraged. Her hand went to Walker's waist, guiding her to sit. "We've still got some time."

Tony felt like he was intruding on something private. He could hear them a lot clearer than before, and they didn't seem to be aware of it, but he couldn't find it in himself to move his feet.

What confirmed that they were oblivious to his presence was Walker resting her head on Michelle's shoulder, likely out of exhaustion, but there was something intimate about it, too. He imagined Michelle had been quite lonely for all these years, so he was glad if she had had a good friend in her life.

"So, it's really true?"

Michelle exhaled. "Yeah."

"I've devoted my career to the Bureau and you just expect me to believe that it's corrupted — that the entire government's been corrupted?" Walker said, her voice somehow both doubtful, but also saddened with acceptance.

"Not all of it," Michelle reminded her. "But until we find out who's involved, we can't trust anyone."

She shook her head. "I still don't– You're working for two agencies, what are you doing risking everything by going off with a bunch of rogue CTU agents?"

Michelle laughed through her nose. "You know I was one of them, too, once upon a time?"

"Yeah, but not now. Now, you're an incredible CIA agent, and you're going to lose authority on everything you've worked so hard on. If Larry hasn't already suspended you, he will."

"Actually, he can't, because I'm not really working for the FBI."

Walker furrowed her brow. "But you're liaising."

"No, I…" Michelle took a breath. "I was sent by the CIA to find the mole in the FBI. We knew there was a mole before my identity got leaked. The liaison part was all a cover so I would have the access I needed. But you can't say anything to Larry. I'm only telling you because I trust you."

Tony was a little shocked that Michelle was saying this to Walker when she was also one of the suspects. Michelle wouldn't have done so unless she had an implicit reason to trust her. Something that went beyond working together or perhaps even just being friends.

"Is… is this why you broke up with me?" Walker asked, her voice cracking slightly as she pulled away to look at Michelle. "You were trying to protect me from all of this?"

"Yes," Michelle admitted. "I didn't want to lie to you, and I didn't want to hurt you."

Now that Tony was hearing these words, everything seemed to stick out to him, even from a distance. The way Michelle's hand was resting on Walker's knee, the way they were looking at each other, the way their voices had softened, like they could be vulnerable around each other, like the world stopped when they were together. The slight shock of this realisation aside, he could understand Michelle's view. He remembered the feeling of secrecy around the Salazar operation and how shocked Michelle had been when she had found out he had been keeping so much from her. Even if it had been for work, it had never sat right with him, lying to his wife. It had gone against every rule about good relationships.

"Well, you did. You broke my heart."

Michelle pinched the bridge of her nose. "I know. I just– I knew it was going to get messy. And I wanted to keep you safe. It's the same reason I made sure you didn't see what Jack was going to do to get Tony out of the FBI."

Walker sniffled. "And you didn't think I'd go looking for you?"

She smiled a little, tucking a hair behind Walker's ear. "Well, I knew you'd figure it out, eventually. I thought you might have a tactical team with you, but I should know better from my knight in shining armour."

Tony's chest ached, tears welling in his eyes. It wasn't so much out of jealousy, just intense fondness, as he thought about the past, all the private moments like this he and Michelle had shared. Perhaps it was the guilt about David still heavy in his chest, but when he looked at them, all he could see was that Michelle was happier and better off without him. Even if she and Walker were apparently not together anymore, the feelings were still there; it was plain to see. She had found someone despite the grief and pain she would have felt after losing him and their son, just as he had. It didn't stop him from acknowledging the feelings deep in his heart that he still had for Michelle. Even in his darkest days, nothing had made them fade. Even when he had been gutted finding out she had been hiding her work for the CIA, he had loved her with just as much intensity. When he had found out she was alive, he had felt a desperation to find her so she could forgive him and they could be together, knowing David would never forgive him if he found out he had been going behind his back. But now, with the memory of David dying and Michelle's reaction to his choices, he felt totally unworthy of both love and forgiveness.

"He's five minutes out. Get into positions," Jack said, and Tony shook his head, reminding himself of all they still had to do today. 

He wanted Michelle to be happy, and he was sure she had a much better chance of that without him. But as he walked past the spot where Jack had moved David's body, all he could pray was that Walker and Michelle wouldn't meet the same fate he and David had.

"Let me see it," Tony urged, but David shoved his hand away. "Let me see it!"

He hadn't seen a lot of blood spray upon shooting David — something he still hadn't quite processed — but he had obviously been hurt beyond a graze. There was an exit wound, which was also good, but David seemed to be in a lot of pain.

Again, Tony tried to tend to David, but he just recoiled with indignance. 

"You didn't hit an artery, just a nerve, you bastard," he explained. Tony wasn't sure if he meant that metaphorically or literally. It was likely both, given how limp David's arm was.

"I told you, it's not personal," Tony insisted. "You just crossed a line I couldn't, alright?"

"Oh, I believe you. Only you could be so pathetic to vie for the approval of a woman you damn well know will never take you back."

He huffed. "I made this decision before we found out she was alive."

"My point still stands."

And he was certainly right. While David may not be a sharpshooter right now with his injured arm, he was apparently still accurate enough with his words. He might have decided to go to Bill and Chloe, still believing Michelle was dead, but really, her memory had always served as his conscience. It had been the thought of what she would think that had haunted him for all these years, although his anger and pain had greatly muffled that voice, her voice, in the early days of running David's crew. The CIP device had been enough to wake him up, though. He would like to think that it had woken up a part of him, and not just his guilt, but he honestly couldn't be sure.

"Just let me stitch it, alright?" Tony said, deflecting the comment. "It's the least I can do."

"I'll do it myself," David insisted, gritting his teeth, so Tony grabbed the bag of medical supplies from the van and passed it to David.

David's dominant hand being injured made it quite a task for him to shrug his jacket off and half-remove his shirt to expose the wound. Obviously, there was a lot of blood surrounding the skin, but Tony could see that the wound was not very severe. David disinfected the wound with a clammy hand, wincing quietly, apparently still trying to make a point of it to Tony. But it took him almost five minutes just to do that, his movements weak and limited in range of motion.

Tony grabbed the sutures and gauze. "I know you're stubborn enough to want to do this on your own, but we don't have time."

David didn't say anything, still refusing to admit defeat, but held out his arm nonetheless. He was so stubborn that he wouldn't even look at Tony as he quickly, but gently, stitched up his wound. Seeing it clean made him feel a lot better. But David had still lost a lot of mobility, his arm hanging dead by his side. He might never shoot with two hands properly again. For now, that probably wasn't a bad thing, but it would be a permanent reminder of this incident, more than just a scar would give. Frankly, Tony was just happy he was alive. He could live with injuring him; he wasn't sure how he would have coped if he had killed him.

He helped David put his shirt and jacket back on. The dark fabric would hide the wound from Nichols and his crew when they arrived, so hopefully, they wouldn't ask too many questions about how it had gone. If anything, they should be more focused on the Matobos, which they would certainly deliver on. Tony's heart was still racing from the shock of it. But David would be okay, and that was enough to give him reprieve. To some degree, Tony also felt better now that David was mostly aware of everything he had been hiding, meaning he wouldn't have to lie anymore. However, he tried not to think too hard about the strong possibility that their relationship, in the personal and professional sense, would never recover. David would not forgive and forget. It didn't matter that Tony hadn't been trying to hurt him: he had betrayed him all the same.

Jack then came over. He had been yelling at Litvak, who had nearly shot him in retaliation after Tony had shot David, but Jack had managed to be commanding enough that Litvak had stood down.

"Everything alright?" Jack asked warily.

David just scoffed.

"Look, we've got our people on the way," Jack said, meeting David's gaze. "All we want to do is put a tracking device on the Matobos, something that Dubaku's people won't notice. We'll let you take your diamonds and leave. We're not going to rat you out to the Feds. We just can't let that CIP device or the Matobos be at Dubaku's mercy, got it?"

His cheek twitched. "Fine. Your word is meant to be worth something, so I'll take it."

As David got up to talk to Litvak, still clutching his arm, Tony pulled Jack aside.

"Bill and Chloe dropped Michelle and Walker off somewhere, right?" he asked.

Jack shook his head. "I told Bill to keep Renee hidden. Michelle insisted on being here for this."

His eyebrows rose. David and Michelle being in the same room felt wrong in so many ways. It would be like two asteroids suddenly colliding. They represented two very different parts of his life, and each would certainly have something to say to the other. He mostly trusted David wouldn't hurt Michelle, but he was scared nonetheless. Obviously, she would have to hide with Bill and Chloe once Nichols got to the hangar for the meeting, but he was still frightened by the idea of her being so close to this. Tony supposed that fear was quite stupid since Michelle already was close to this, just in a different capacity.

"Alright," he said.

But Jack could clearly tell he was anxious because he said, "Michelle will be fine," with assurance. It was likely more a statement of faith in her ability to protect herself, a subtle dig that she didn't need him to protect her, rather than a judgement of David's character.

The blue van soon pulled up, and Bill, Chloe, and Michelle got out. With all their supplies, Walker had likely found an appropriate hiding place, although he was sure they would all be worrying about her. It wouldn't be beyond David to pry; Tony just hoped Nichols would arrive soon enough that he wouldn't have the chance.

As Michelle stepped out, he heard David laugh derisively.

"Well, I didn't think I'd be seeing you today."

"So you must be David," Michelle replied drily.

In his peripheral vision, David grinned humourlessly. "It's funny, I was just talking about how sad it is that Tony still tries so hard to please you."

"I could say the same about him and you, but I guess that's what happens when you manipulate someone at the lowest point of their life," Michelle said plainly, stepping closer to David. "For as much as you apparently brag about having turned him, you neglect to mention that he was vulnerable, so it really wasn't much work for you, was it?"

Tony supposed it should say something about him that he was scared by Michelle approaching David and being so up-front. Did he really revere David that much? Was he that afraid of his disapproval or his wrath? David had protected him with everything he had for so many years; viewing him that way never used to bother him. But now, having opened his eyes a little and been so stricken with guilt over going behind his back, he recognised a dependency in their relationship. Tony understood that it came from having been so emotionally devastated when they had met. Nonetheless, it made him question a lot of things.

"He might have been vulnerable, but his principles should have held up — if he'd had them in the first place," David countered.

The look in Michelle's eye, never mind her ostensibly defending and standing up for him when it really should be the other way around, made Tony panic and step between them.

"Oh, please, Tony, she can protect herself," David said, clearly noticing his tension. "If anything, she should be shielding you after what you did to me."

Michelle gave him a funny glance.

Tony just sighed and pulled her aside, leaving David to walk off with satisfaction.

"Exactly what happened here?" she asked.

"David figured out that I was playing him. He held Jack at gunpoint and forced me to tell him everything. I shot him in the arm. Obviously, he's fine, but he took all of it as a sign of betrayal." 

He meant to appear indifferent about it, but he ended up sounding more upset.

"I'm sorry," Michelle said genuinely. "I realise that must have been hard for you, but you did what you had to."

It took him a moment to process that she was actually being sympathetic to him over that, for which he felt undeserving. If anything, it just made him feel more pathetic.

"It's fine," he muttered, still trying to act like it wasn't a big deal, even though she could see right through him. He also really didn't want to get into why this betrayal was gutting for him. She was already judging him for working for David: he didn't really want to tell her that their relationship ran — at least, had run — deeper. More than that, being his wife, it had a degree of awkwardness around it, too — not that he would judge her if she had been seeing someone in their time apart.

"Tony," she said, bringing him back to the present. "You're upset. What's wrong?"

He looked down at the floor. "Emerson is more than just my business partner, alright?"

When he mustered the courage to meet her eye, again, she somehow seemed sorry for him. More than that, it almost looked like she wanted to get in the ring with David. But then Tony noticed her eyes flit over to the van. The first time, it was subtle, but as they stood there, him trying to conceal his emotions and her trying to find something to say that wouldn't sound insulting, he noticed it happen again and again.

"You want to check on Walker?" he asked, very quietly.

She bit her lip and nodded. Obviously, they must be quite close if she was this worried.

He nodded. "I'll cover for you. Follow my lead."

They moved to the van slowly, Tony getting into a position that would make it look like he was helping Bill, but still able to keep an eye on David.

Michelle also created the illusion she was getting something out of the back, but he soon heard her voice, very quiet, and softer than before.

"Hey, it's just me," she whispered. "Are you alright?"

There was a huff. "You drugged me, Bauer shot me, and now I'm suffocating under all this shit. How do you think I'm doing?"

Tony felt like he was being rude by eavesdropping, but he felt compelled by his desire to stay. A part of him justified it as protecting them both as promised, but admittedly, he was curious, too.

"I'm sorry we had to keep you in the dark. This all got so out of control."

"Well, you should have trusted me enough to help you."

"I do trust you," Michelle corrected. "But if I told you this at the FBI, would you have believed me?"

There was a beat of silence. "I just– It's really true? Everything Bauer said? I've devoted my career to the Bureau and you just expect me to believe that it's corrupted — that the entire government's been corrupted?" Walker said, her voice somehow both doubtful, but also saddened with acceptance.

"Not all of them," Michelle corrected. "But until we find out who, we can't trust anyone."

Walker sighed. "So your solution is to go play CTU?"

Michelle laughed through her nose. "You know I was CTU, once upon a time?"

"Still, you... you're going to lose authority on everything you've worked so hard on. How is that going to help?"

"Larry can't take me off the case."

"You might technically be CIA, but he still has authority over you," Renee said with confusion.

"No, he doesn't, because the FBI doesn't really have control over the case, not the way they think they do. The CIA put me there to find a mole."

Tony's eyebrows rose. She must obviously trust Walker implicitly if she was telling her something like that. It was a little strange given that Michelle hadn't been at the FBI for very long. Maybe she had known Walker from before, but even that sounded off since Michelle would have been living with a lot of distrust towards government agents. There was something ironic about both of them having had the same mentality but working in very opposing ways to make a difference.

"W... What?"

"At least one person in the Bureau works for the people who want me dead. It's obviously not you, but I can't take any chances. Until Saul says it's okay, you can't tell anybody."

"Even Larry?"

"Especially Larry," Michelle rebutted. "I'm inclined to trust him, but I won't risk it."

Again, there was silence. Walker just seemed to be in plain shock, and Tony couldn't blame her. He had been as faithful and idealistic as she had, once upon a time. He felt so far removed from that person now.

"Is… is this why you broke up with me?" Renee asked, her voice cracking slightly. "You were trying to protect me from all of this?"

Tony had to take a second to register what he had heard. But as he did, he realised it made a lot of sense. Why else would Jack have so vehemently asked him to inform Michelle of what had happened to Walker? Why else would Michelle have looked so nervous while Walker had been hiding? She had been so defiant standing in front of David, but as soon as they had been alone, her facade had cracked just enough for him to notice. Tony wanted to believe he was part of that response, that she still felt comfortable around him to drop her guard and vice versa. But her worry about Walker after nearly losing her... went beyond the way one should care for a fellow agent or even a friend.

"Yes," Michelle admitted. "I didn't want to lie to you, and I didn't want to hurt you."

The slight shock of this realisation aside, he could understand Michelle's view. He remembered the feeling of secrecy around the Salazar operation and how shocked Michelle had been when she had found out he had been keeping so much from her. Even if it had been for work, it had never sat right with him, lying to his wife. It had gone against every rule about good relationships.

"Well, you did. You broke my heart."

"I know. I just– I knew it was going to get messy," Michelle explained. "And I wanted to keep you safe. It's the same reason I made sure you didn't see what Jack was going to do to get Tony out of the FBI."

Walker sniffled. "And you didn't think I'd go looking for you?"

There was something very sweet in Michelle's tone as she said, "I was sure you would. I just thought you would have a tactical team with you. But I should know better from my knight in shining armour."

Walker didn't seem to know what to say to that. Her whole world, professionally and personally, had just been shattered. It wasn't dissimilar to how Tony had felt upon learning Michelle was alive. It would take some time to process. But Tony could only hope their relationship would prevail. If Walker had made Michelle happy and been loyal to her, kept her safe... how could he be upset about that? No matter how much it hurt, it hurt, he could never let his petty jealousy override that.

Bill then moved past Tony to where Michelle was. "We need to hide. They'll be here any minute."

Michelle got back out, mouthing thank you to Tony as she walked with Chloe to the service closet of the hangar. 

Tony then reconvened with David, who still had a look that Tony didn't like, his eyes on Michelle as she walked out.

"I mean it, David, I swear to God, you don't lay a hand on her."

"You think I want to punish you so badly that I'd kill her?" he asked.

Tony didn't know what he was getting at, squinting slightly.

"I don't need to kill her to hurt you, Tony," David just said with a mirthless smile. For a moment, Tony thought David was insinuating torture, but then he went on, saying, "The pain of losing her, once again, will never be as bad as the pain of her betraying you, and she did that all on her own."

"They're here," Jack called out, stopping Tony from responding.

But the truth was, there was nothing for him to say to David, because he was right.

Michelle sighed as she watched Renee walk through the front door of the law firm. Jack, Bill, and Tony went over their formation one last time. This was huge. If they did this right, they could get Dubaku and the CIP device. But if something went wrong, it would be a death sentence. Michelle recognised that she was worried for all of them, as well as the Matobos and Michael Latham, who were in there against their will. Of course, she felt a painful nostalgia towards Tony, memories of waiting in perpetuity for field updates when they had both been at CTU still coming to mind. And with Renee out, too, this time, it made that anxiety twice as intense, even more so because of what she had already been through today. God, this was insane. This was a task for a tactical team with a direct line of communication to a government agency and a helicopter full of people on standby, not four people, one analyst, albeit a very good one, and someone who was trying to juggle pleasing the FBI, the CIA, and the team.

"I've got this handled, Michelle," Chloe said with assurance. "Call your people. If I need anything, I'll tell you."

She thanked Chloe and decided to call Saul to update him, as promised. Larry could find out what he needed later. He was going to be pissed, as would Saul, but Saul would help her out, not demand she get back to FBI headquarters without giving her a chance.

"Hey, it's me."

"Chatter is indicating that the Matobos are in Dubaku's custody. What's going on?"

"There were… complications with Emerson and his crew. But we're tracking the Matobos, and now we believe we're outside the building where Dubaku is. Our plan is to arrest him and secure the CIP device, then take this directly to Taylor."

He hummed in assent. "And you haven't told the FBI anything?"

"Besides Agent Walker, no."

"Agent Walker? As in?…"

"Yes, Saul, that Agent Walker," she confirmed with enough annoyance that Chloe raised an eyebrow. 

Saul had always been protective of her to the point of suffocation. Yes, he was the head agent on this case, he was the supervisor, but this was her work, so if something happened to her, it was all over. He had been very wary of her dating an FBI agent, and still was, even though she and Renee hadn't been together for some time now. Michelle had known the risk, but had very good reason to conclude that Renee was objectively trustworthy. And even though things were a little dissonant between them right now, Michelle still didn't doubt that.

"This is not the time to get into it. But if you need anything, tactical support, another pair of eyes, tell me," Saul insisted. "I'm trusting your judgement here. If you think you can pull this off, I won't stand in your way. Just be careful. If this becomes a public fuck-up, then we lose everything."

"I know, I know. But I think with fewer people, they'll be less likely to see us coming."

Chloe then muttered something as she looked at her screen. From the corner of her vision, it looked like interagency chatter.

"Jack, I just intercepted an FBI alert identifying Dubaku's next target," Chloe said. "A chemical plant near Kidron, Ohio. Twelve minutes from going critical. There are thirty thousand people in that town. We have to hurry."

"Michelle, are you absolutely sure this is going to work?" Saul asked. 

With Chloe and Jack corresponding beside her and Saul explaining once again that this was a bad idea, she couldn't take it anymore. 

"Saul, I can't help them if I'm on the phone. I have to go," Michelle said abruptly, hanging up before looking down at the computer screen, eyes occasionally flitting up to the windscreen. "What happened, Chloe?" 

"They've located Dubaku and an S-DART control station."

Her eyebrows rose. "That's powerful enough to drive the CIP device."

They sat there tensely as Jack continued to relay their plan until all they could hear was shooting. It was loud enough to make Chloe turn the volume back down. The CCTV footage was also harder to see due to all the flashes from the gunfire. 

"I've got the CIP device. It's been destroyed," Tony announced, making her, and she was sure, everybody else relieved.

"Have you got Dubaku?" Michelle asked.

"No, but I've got the Matobos," Renee commented. "I'm taking them back to the van."

She hoped Jack or Bill would be the next one to pipe up and declare that he found Dubaku. But every time she asked, neither of them could confirm anything further. They did find Michael Latham, but the sound of an explosion cut them off from saying anything further. Michelle and Chloe both yelled to ask firstly if they were okay, but just as importantly, if they had found Dubaku. The explosion sounded like it had fried their comms, making her worry immensely. She was grateful the CIP device had been taken out and the Matobos were safe, but losing Dubaku wasn't an option when they couldn't be sure how many of his associates were in the US.

The back door opened, and Renee came back with the Matobos, flashing Michelle a small, satisfied smile. Michelle tried not to make it obvious how relieved she was to see her.

Michelle then heard the sound of sirens grow near. First responders would be on their way. They had to get out of there. People started to evacuate the building, and for some reason, Michelle felt drawn to them. She felt a need to watch them as they frantically filed out. She wasn't sure why until she caught sight of precisely the man they were trying to detain. Had she blinked or been looking elsewhere, she surely would have missed him.

Michelle swiftly grabbed her gun and got out of the car, ignoring Chloe and Renee's confused comments.

Dubaku tried to walk into a side alley, and Michelle followed him, taking cover frequently as he continued to look behind him. She didn't want to do this when civilians and cops were around. But she wasn't going to let him get away, even though this was risky for her to be so open like this.

"Freeze," Michelle said when she finally had the opportunity. "Hands up. You have nowhere to run."

When Dubaku reached for his gun, she didn't hesitate to shoot him in the back. It never failed to surprise her how stupid people could be when they were desperate, including criminals. Despite almost getting away with their larger crimes, they would always try to find a way out, even though it was clear they were cornered. She remembered the first time she did this in the hotel all those years ago. She remembered the sound of the gunshots scaring her. She remembered feeling almost frozen as she looked at the blood on the ground. But living with an active threat on her life had made it easier to do this, something she knew helped her from day to day but also concerned her for a while. It had made her spiral about what kind of person she was to feel so callous about taking a human life. But what had helped her get over it was the reminder that the people out to get her had had a part to play in the bomb that had ripped her family apart and conspiracies that would send the country into pandemonium.

She rushed over and grabbed any weapons and devices off his person. "I have him," Michelle said into her comm. "I have Dubaku in custody." 

After the others confirmed they were on their way, she rolled him over. He was still breathing. 

"Who else is working for you inside the US government?" She tapped his face a few times to rouse him. "We can take you to a hospital, but tell me who works for you."

He shook his head, each blink longer than the last.

"I know you have a son. In Sangala."

Although he was becoming weaker, she could tell he reacted very much to this.

"I lost a son. Before I even got to meet him," she said bitterly. "I'd hate for you to experience that pain, too. But I can keep him safe if you give me the names."

"T-There's a list," he said feebly, moving his hand to his ribcage. "Don't hurt my family."

Michelle furrowed her brow. "Where?"

He brought her hand to where his was. He was losing a lot of blood, but if they could just get this… 

"It's inside you."

Dubaku confirmed this with a nod. Jack called her name, and she looked behind her to find him, Renee, and Tony together. She explained what had happened, and Renee called for an ambulance. Jack didn't hesitate to cut the man open and take the device out, but given that he was already dying, she had to wonder whether he even noticed the extra pain.

"What do we do about the Matobos?" Renee asked.

"We can escort them safely to the White House," Jack offered. "This is too much for us to handle now."

Michelle nodded.

"I'll call Larry to have them set up security at the hospital for Dubaku," Renee said. "I'll ride with him and then meet you all back at the FBI. Then we'll explain everything to Larry."

"We're not revealing the evidence to anyone yet," Jack countered. "Not until we find the mole. It stays with me."

Renee held up her hands defensively. "Fine. What about you, Tony?"

"I'm not going," he said.

They turned to look at him.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't go back into custody. Not yet."

Jack tried to explain something about dealing with consequences, and Michelle noticed the guilt on his face return, but he was quick to shake his head. "I might have some more intel. I'm meeting up with a member of David's crew."

"Intel?" Renee folded her arms. "About what?"

He huffed. "That's what I need to find out. But this isn't over yet. The conspiracy goes above and beyond Dubaku."

Michelle knew this, but the information the CIA had fed to the FBI only went up so far; she couldn't blame Renee for being surprised. 

"I give you my word, once this is all over, I'll turn myself in." He sounded slightly nervous about that.

Michelle conceded, telling him to be careful without even thinking, and Jack added that he would hold him to it. 

Renee called Larry, and the ambulance arrived just as she hung up. Tony, too, disappeared, saying his informant was waiting a few blocks away at a restaurant. Michelle relayed the information to Chloe, Bill, Saul, and the Matobos, leaving just her and Jack.

She realised at that moment that they had been left without a car. As she went to point this out to Jack, she whipped her head around at the sound of glass shattering. He stood, holding the door open for her to the passenger seat of the car he'd just broken into and brushing the shards off the upholstery.

Michelle snickered, happy to find a moment of ease amongst the stress. "We can't take you anywhere, can we?"

He smiled grimly. "Isn't that why you brought me here in the first place?"

Tony still held that feeling of disconnect within him. Every part of his body seemed to be in a different place, a different time, a different world, even. His mind focused on what he had said to Jack, Michelle, and the others: getting intel on the upcoming attacks. Half of his heart was filled with a myriad of emotions regarding Michelle's apparent relationship with Walker. The other half was yearning for Michelle and her forgiveness, deeply, delusionally convincing himself that they still had a chance to reconcile. But his soul held that horrible, gutting sense of emptiness from David's last words to him. He would never see him again. Tony had always assumed that if David got angry about this, he would just kill him, and up until recently, he had been able to live with that possibility. But there was nothing to be done now. He had lost David for good.

As he pulled up to the compound, it felt strange to think that this had been a place he had called home for so long and now, it was the last place he felt he should be. Once he went into his room — and David's, too — and removed his belongings, it would feel more like he was detaching, saying goodbye to this chapter in his life. Although it wasn't the first time his world had been flipped upside down, leaving him lost, he had always had someone to guide him out of it. Jack. Michelle. David. But now, he had no one. He had no idea what the next part of his life would hold. Hell, he didn't even know if he would make it through today.

Not all of David's crew had been on the Dubaku job, so he expected to see a few people when he came in, but the place was eerily dark and empty. Word would have gotten around about his betrayal, so either they had all decided to gang up and go somewhere new, or...

He only heard the footsteps as the gun — presumably — clocked him on the temple. Tony wasn't sure how many of them there were, but they certainly worked well together as they delivered blow after blow to his body. He tucked his chin into his chest, his hands coming over his ears to protect his head and neck. It obviously wasn't about revenge, just making a point, because it took less time than Tony expected it to for it to stop. One of them spat at him and called him a traitor before leaving him to rot on the floor.

As Tony struggled to get to his feet, he felt blood drip from his nose onto his shirt. His temple throbbed. But the joke was on them because Tony felt entirely deserving of what they had done. They hadn't really threatened him or hurt him. He was hurting just fine on his own.

It was a struggle to make it up the stairs. He didn't think any of his ribs were cracked, but he was huffing and puffing as he grabbed his clothes from the closet, his mementos, few as they might be — just a few photos from the fridge of his and Michelle's house, and his wedding band — and his work supplies, computer, and whatnot. Tears stung his eyes as he took in all the details for the last time, the slightly unmade bed, the faint smell of David's cologne, the pile of books on the nightstand...

He shook his head. He had to get back to what he was supposed to be doing; otherwise, he would be even more distracted as he tried to do so. At the very least, he feared reprisals from any other members of David's crew who wanted to confront him about his actions.

All he could hope for was that the outcomes of today would make it all worth it. Although frankly, Tony was certain he would spend the rest of his life looking back on this time, wondering whether things could have gone differently.

After downgrading the threat level on Michelle's life, Renee had been able to return to work at the FBI while Michelle had settled in at an undisclosed office owned privately by the CIA. They had become close during the time Renee had helped to protect her, and that friendship had only grown deeper with time. Of course, they couldn't discuss work explicitly. Michelle's case was still highly confidential, and everything at the FBI was on a need-to-know basis. Still, that didn't mean they couldn't have a healthy bitch about their day when they caught up after work. Michelle recognised it had done a lot for her, having someone to confide in, someone who understood her, someone who never judged her, someone who genuinely cared about her. It meant everything. Although Michelle didn't have as many security guards everywhere she went now, Renee was there for her almost all of the time, regardless. Renee insisted that she had made a promise to protect her, and she would continue to do so until her case was over.

One of the first things she and Renee had done together back at one of the old safehouses was go for runs together, a slight upgrade from the treadmill. They had started as slow and brisk walks on account of Michelle's injuries, but had then become mini marathons. It had been beneficial for her both physically and mentally. Surviving the car bomb might have been a miracle in itself, but she still had chronic issues that would probably remain with her forever and worsen with age. She had some mild hearing loss, which Renee was always aware of. She adjusted the tone of her voice in a register that made it clearer for her to hear if they were somewhere noisy. If someone called out, but was too far away, Renee would relay it to her without skipping a beat, just quietly, not wanting to make it obvious. 

From the way Michelle had fallen, her back, hips, and neck were severely misaligned. Given that she spent fifty per cent of the time stuck at a desk and the other fifty per cent working out with Renee, it seemed to be a good balance of changing position to help with mobility. She saw a physiotherapist as well, although that had come with its own set of challenges when the first one, despite vetting from the CIA, had tried to kill her. Well, she wasn't quite sure if it had been them or an impersonator. All she knew was that as she had lain facedown on the bed, her gut had warned her that the person who had seen her in did not match the person standing over her. The terror of having to flip over and fight back so quickly in an awkward position when she had already been sore came second only to the night at the church. At least Michelle could trust that even if she was having a flare-up, the adrenaline of having her life endangered could override it. Saul had been right to assume that the people after her wouldn't try to kill her publicly or in a way that immediately implicated them, but that didn't mean they couldn't slip through the cracks.

It was after that incident that Renee had suggested kickboxing. Michelle had had self-defence and field training a number of years prior, but the accident and lack of movement had made her rusty. Renee had managed to find a small gym that was open twenty-four-seven. They timed their visits around their awkward work hours so that they were usually alone in the ring. Bodyguards would survey the outside, and there was always someone at the CIA keeping an eye through the cameras, too. But for the most part, it really was just her and Renee there. Michelle recognised her willingness to be completely isolated with Renee was a testament to how much she trusted her. There was still a chance, a small chance, but a chance, that Renee Walker would appear as a notification on her tracking program, informing her that she was trying to spread her information to the people who wanted her dead. However, it was getting harder and harder to believe that. If Renee wanted to kill her, she would have by now. 

Sparring together had not only brought the endorphins that came with exercise, but also a better chance to release her stress and frustration. She and Renee knew each other well enough by now that they could be a little rough without crossing the line of risking injuries — or, in Michelle's case, more injuries. It was fun, too, and made her feel empowered. Ever since Michelle had started all those years ago, she had realised that she could learn a lot about a person by the way they fought. She had become familiar with her opponent's tics and habits, trying to learn how to anticipate each attack so she could beat them to it. It had also taught her a lot about herself, made her try to unlearn or conceal her own habits, or use them to trick the other person into thinking she was doing one thing when she was doing another. It was a good mental challenge.

But, clearly, she had managed to learn a lot about Renee because she managed to catch her off-guard and pin her to the mat. Michelle blew a piece of hair out of her eye as she found herself straddling Renee, holding her down by the shoulders. 

"Gotcha," Michelle said with a smirk, but the smirk soon stretched into a grin.

"Oh, we're so having a rematch!" Renee protested.

Renee was laughing, and she couldn't help but laugh, too. She wasn't sure she had ever felt this carefree, just able to be in the moment without sinking into depression about the past or spiralling into panic about the future. But then her mind went places she didn't expect it to. She and Renee were looking right at each other. The colour of her eyes, that electric blue with flecks of green, reflected in the light was beautiful. Although her skin was flushed, Michelle could still make out all the little freckles on her face and trailing down her shoulders. Her chest was heaving, and her lips were slightly parted. She was breathtaking, in every sense of the word.

Michelle wasn't sure when her feelings for Renee had started to change, but it was pretty hard to deny they had now. She believed a good part of her care for Renee simply came from Renee's unyielding loyalty and willingness to be there for her in return. Her life would be pretty miserable without Renee. She really was the only friend she had now. Although her colleagues at the CIA, few as they might be, were kind and respected her, she was not in any position to see them outside of work, simply because she was a walking target, and they were totally justified in wanting to keep their distance. More than that, she couldn't be certain that all of them were trustworthy. Rebecca, Saul's Chief of Staff, was probably the only other person who saw her as human and not just as a valuable asset. Having lost her husband a number of years ago, a senator who had been assassinated, she had been able to help her out in that way. But while Rebecca and the CIA could support her professionally, Renee reminded her every day that she was alive for a reason, that she was more than just an agent, that she was worth it as a person.

However, deep down, Michelle couldn't deny that she still had a death wish, albeit a much smaller one. It wasn't that she actively considered taking her life or believed that life was meaningless. It was more that she was holding on and motivating herself almost entirely with the case. She would be more than willing to make a heroic sacrifice if it meant putting an end to the conspiracy. She would be content with having her star put on the wall. Even if she miraculously survived all of this, with no family and many years of service behind her, the CIA would see her as a perfect candidate for a suicide mission, and she could die with dignity that way, too. She had never empathised with Jack more deeply than she had in these last eighteen months or so. When she had read through the reports regarding the suitcase nuke incident in LA, she had learned Jack had been willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good, that he hadn't wanted to die for nothing, hence having fought to stay alive in China. She completely understood his perspective. Michelle still felt guilty for not having pushed harder to rescue him in the first place. Saul had shut the idea right down, reminding her that she already had enough people after her. She had been very insistent, but he hadn't budged. She really wished she could call Jack and talk to him, but he had disappeared after that day, and it didn't seem he wanted to be found.

By now, the laughing had trailed off, and they were both silent, just staring into each other's eyes. Michelle wasn't quite sure whether she had lowered her head or Renee had lifted hers up slightly, but she knew that their faces were closer to each other than before. A part of her, deep in her heart, was screaming at her to just say to hell with it and kiss her. If Renee was uncomfortable or wasn't thinking about kissing her first, she would have pulled away, and her gaze wouldn't have dropped to her lips.

The only problem was that this wouldn't just be a kiss. This was not a fleeting moment of attraction. It carried so much weight.

Renee threatened to undo all of her plans, and it scared the shit out of her, more than any assassin ever could. Admitting her feelings for Renee meant thinking about a future after this case, even if it was still years away. It meant committing to finding a way to live again. It meant, to a small degree, letting go of Tony. It meant letting someone in, and accepting that she would be at greater risk. It wasn't that Michelle wanted to selfishly restrict Renee to being her bodyguard: it was that she was terrified of letting her get involved in this. She couldn't lose her. Her heart couldn't handle any more grief than it already held. More than that, Renee deserved so much better than her. She deserved someone who wasn't going to ruin her life. She had such a bright future ahead of her as an agent. If she was going to die, better she die for her country, not because of her. Michelle also couldn't dare to lose her if she was wrong about her intuition — although she rarely was — and Renee's feelings weren't reciprocated.

Michelle wasn't sure how long she had been ruminating for, but Renee must have taken the hint that this wasn't going to go any further because when she awkwardly cleared her throat and looked away, they mutually parted. Renee no longer seemed interested in the rematch. They were silent as they showered and got back in the car. Renee drove her home, and Michelle hated the disappointment she could see Renee was trying to hide. She shouldn't have let that moment go on for so long.

The car pulled to the curb, and Michelle took her seatbelt off as quickly as possible, feeling tears well in her eyes.

"Hey, uh…" Renee said, stopping Michelle before she could get out of the car. 

Michelle turned to look at her nervously.

"Same time tomorrow?" Renee asked, her voice gentle but uncertain. It seemed she had a million more things she wanted to say, but didn't know where to begin or if to begin.

She mustered a smile. "Yeah. See you then."

Although this promise of tomorrow gave her hope, Michelle was still terrified to cling to it and couldn't help but worry that she had just lost her only chance with her.

Although Renee had vouched for them, Agent Moss wasn't particularly happy about any of this. He also wasn't happy with Saul pulling rank and making Chloe perform some private analysis in one of the FBI's offices. She was looking at the data from Dubaku, but they had told Agent Moss it was from one of Emerson's computers. Saul would have made Chloe analyse it at the CIA, but Michelle wanted to be close by. Their secrecy notwithstanding, Agent Moss was pleased that they had managed to detain Dubaku and that the Matobos were safe, as was the president.

"So, where's Almeida?"

Jack looked at the floor, and Michelle didn't seem to want to answer his question, either.

Agent Moss put his hands on his hips. "Are you fucking kidding me? You lost him?" There was something almost amusing about how Agent Moss was referring to Tony like some kind of feral rottweiler.

"He's following a lead," Jack finally decided to say. 

"Where, Bauer? The Bahamas?"

"He gave me his word. I believe him. He wants to put an end to this as much as we do." Better he say it than Michelle. It was lucky enough that what they had achieved had counteracted all the rules they had broken in the process.

"You'll have to forgive me if I find that hard to believe since he didn't tell you he was alive." He sighed, glancing between them. "Alright, fine. The second Almeida is done being useful, we are putting him in holding, and he is staying in holding."

Jack felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and they took that as their cue to leave. He found a private corner in a hallway to answer it.

Chloe didn't even greet him, just asked, "Is Michelle with you?"

"No, she went back to her office."

"Good."

He furrowed his brow. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I found something she's not going to like." She sighed. "Renee's name is on Dubaku's list."

Jack felt his blood run cold. They had discussed everything in front of Renee, and Michelle had insisted all morning that she could be trusted. But even though he respected Michelle's judgement, he hadn't let his guard down entirely around Renee. He just hadn't known her long enough to have a definitive idea of her character. He had acted the same way around every other FBI agent, and frankly, Tony, too, today. Finding out that there was likely a mole had only justified his behaviour more.

Really, Jack had never been a trusting person. But after Nina, he had become even more reluctant to allow himself to get comfortable around new people, particularly government agents. He knew Michelle had likely lived similarly, ever since it had been made clear to her just how many people wanted to kill her. However, he was quite sure that Michelle's relationship with Renee was more than platonic, or at least had been at some point. It was clear in the way they regarded each other. Perhaps not to the untrained eye, but to him, for certain. They had known each other for years, from his understanding, and while that should incline Jack to have a little faith, he could also clearly recognise that that made Michelle more susceptible to being taken advantage of if her guard had relaxed with time.

"What if someone's trying to frame her?" Jack queried, wanting more definitive proof, and still wanting to give Michelle some credit.

"It gets worse," Chloe said, seemingly disappointed and worried for Michelle. "I've been digging deeper into the tracing program the CIA has been using to look at who's opened Michelle's profile, since the mole apparently got past it. Now I can see a transmission to a device Tony confirmed belonged to David. It came from Renee's IP, which was verified with her SSH key, too. Renee's the mole. She has to be. She sent Michelle's details to Dubaku's people so they could target her. Emerson worked for Dubaku. That's how he and Tony found out."

"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"For someone to be able to frame her… technically, it's not impossible, but it's not easy to pull off. I'll keep looking into it."

"Alright. Thanks, Chloe."

As he hung up, his eyes fell to where Michelle was standing near Renee's computer, her hand gently resting on her shoulder. He thought back to when they were at CTU, when he would often find Tony and Michelle in a similar position. They had always kept things professional at work — up until the Cordilla virus outbreak at least — but Jack had always noticed the subtle moments of contact between them. It was how he had figured out they were going out, long before any paperwork to Division had been filed disclosing their relationship. 

Jack called Michelle over, making sure he kept his expression neutral towards Renee. He pulled her aside in the hallway, making her look at him with concern.

"Did Chloe look at Dubaku's list?"

"Yeah." He paused to mind his words, not wanting to jump to outlandish conclusions, but not about to sugarcoat anything, either. "Renee's on it. Chloe also believes she's the one who told Emerson and bypassed the CIA software."

She squinted at him. "What? No, that… that can't be right."

"Michelle–"

"I trust her, Jack," Michelle said firmly, before adding, "Objectively."

"And, once upon a time, I trusted someone, too."

She bit her lip. "This is obviously a mistake. Someone is setting her up. If she, or someone she worked for, wanted me dead, I would have been six feet under a long time ago."

"I want to believe that's the case, but this is pretty damning evidence that you can't look away from."

Michelle looked over at Renee, shaking her head. She seemed as unsteady now as she had after interrogating Tony, like her whole world had come crashing down.

"I know you were or are involved, so if you can't be impartial here, then let me question her."

She took a breath. "Fine. But I'm going to be there when you do."

He nodded, letting Michelle go back to where Renee was working and bringing them both into her office. Renee looked at both of them with confusion. The more Jack thought about it, the more memories were dredged up. He didn't want to believe it was Renee, either, both for Michelle's sake and because, from what he had seen, she was an agent with a promising future. But he hadn't wanted to believe Nina was playing him, either. He had fought to find evidence that exonerated her, and he had still been burned in the end. He wasn't going to let Michelle make the same mistake. She had already been through far too much.

"Take a seat," Jack said to Renee coldly.

Warily, she obliged, looking at Michelle, who was unreadable. "What's up?"

"You tell me."

She furrowed her brow. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb." 

Renee's eyes moved to Michelle again. "Michelle, what is he talking about?"

She opened her mouth to speak but chose not to, keeping her arms folded.

"Michelle, what the hell is going on?" Renee asked again, unnerved by his stare.

"You told Emerson Michelle was alive. You sent the file to him and bypassed the CIA's software."

Her eyes widened. "This… this is ridiculous. I would never do that."

"It was a confirmed match with your IP and SSH key."

"Well, obviously, whoever did do it was smart enough not to get caught and make sure someone else got blamed. I'm being set up, can't you see that?" Renee implored, raising her voice. "Michelle, you know I would never do this to you."

Nina had been emotional like this, too. She had been so horrified by his accusation, and that moment of sympathy he had had for her had been his biggest mistake. He wouldn't let Renee try to manipulate Michelle.

Renee looked at Michelle desperately. "I care about you. For God's sake, I've been there from day one trying to protect you–"

"Unless they were paying you enough that it didn't bother you being at risk, too, if it made the whole thing look believable."

"Jack," Michelle said warningly.

"Who are you working for, Renee?"

"The FBI," she insisted.

The memory of Nina was consuming him now. He was seething with rage and pain from the betrayal, desperate to protect Michelle. He couldn't undo what Nina had done, but he sure as hell could make sure nobody suffered the way he had.

Jack could see the tension in Michelle's expression, could see her desperately trying to find a tell, desperately trying to know whether Renee was telling the truth. But Jack knew that just talking wasn't going to cut it. He shoved Renee further into the chair, wrapping a hand around her throat, not minding the bandage from where he had shot her.

"Who are you working for?" he roared.

"Jesus Christ, Jack, enough!" Michelle yelled, grabbing his arm forcefully.

He retreated, and Renee coughed a few times. Michelle stood between them, clearly upset. 

"She doesn't know anything, alright?" Michelle said, her eyes wet with tears.

Jack took a deep breath, realising that maybe he had been caught up in the familiarity of the whole situation. He wasn't going to let it go. Not until Chloe came back to him with more concrete evidence. But being an outsider here was exactly why he had been brought in. It was what made him able to judge things from a neutral standpoint. But for now, he knew Michelle wasn't going to let him try anything again. 

He walked out of the office, shutting the door behind him. As he stood there trying to collect himself, he realised he could hear them talking through the door.

"I'm sorry," Michelle said. "I had no idea he was going to do that."

"But you knew he was going to interrogate me," Renee snapped. "Where's he getting this from? That the breach was traced to me?"

"I… I can't tell you that."

The chair creaked a little, presumably from Renee standing up.

"Why the hell are you shutting me out? How can you not trust me after everything we've been through?" 

"I do trust you. I told you that at the hangar."

There was a pause, and, if Jack wasn't mistaken, one of them was sniffling.

"Michelle, I took a bullet for you," Renee said bitterly. 

"Look…" Michelle sighed. "Today has been a lot for Jack. He had the Senate hearing. He found out I was alive. He found out Tony was alive. He's paranoid, and he's getting protective because he blames himself for what happened to me."

"I get that, but he's been on this case for what, half a day? You've been on it for nearly seven years. You can't just take his word for everything."

"But that's exactly why we brought him in here. We needed the perspective."  

She huffed. "This isn't CTU, Michelle. This is still our turf. There's a reason it was decommissioned: you can't just strangle anybody remotely involved in the case to get an answer."

Michelle then softened her voice a little. "He was just trying to look out for me. You know about what happened between him and Nina Myers: he trusted her, and she killed his wife."

Renee scoffed. "Oh, so I'm Nina Myers now?"

"That's not what I meant. But you can't blame Jack for–"

"I'm not blaming Jack for being suspicious: I'm blaming you for not defending me in the first place," Renee said, gritting her teeth.

Jack heard Renee's voice increase in volume, meaning she was walking towards the door. He quickly moved into the bullpen so she wouldn't know he had been eavesdropping. When Renee came out, he noticed the pinkish tinge around her neck, and she scowled at him. He didn't know what to believe anymore. He just wanted the truth. 

Michelle then followed, looking at him with anger, but also a hint of concern.

Before he could attempt an apology, his phone buzzed in his pocket again.

"Is that Chloe?" Michelle asked.

"Yeah."

"Put it on speaker," she said tersely.

He obliged, hoping dearly that Chloe's initial conclusion had been wrong and that she had an update that could resolve this.

"Someone's trying to wipe the system!"

Larry stormed down the hallway with the security guards as fast as he could, trying to keep up with Michelle and O'Brian. Jack had stayed to monitor O'Brian's computer to prevent attempts at sabotage — apparently, that was something that had happened before in their CTU days.

"What the hell is going on? I thought you were here for CIA analysis–" Larry started.

"There's a mole in the FBI, and this has just proved it," Michelle informed him.

"What?" He tried to get closer. "How?–"

She huffed. "Dubaku has a list of the US government agents on his payroll. Just as Chloe started cross-referencing the list, someone tried to wipe the system. I don't think that's a coincidence."

They made it to the server room to find Sean and Erika. Larry ordered them to freeze, and Sean slowly raised his gun. However, it seemed they were a second too late because Erika had already collapsed. It appeared she had been shot in the arm and was still breathing, judging by her scream of pain.

"It wasn't me!" Sean shouted, shakily getting on the floor at the request of the guards. "I followed Erika up here. She was trying to crash the system. I shot her in self-defence!"

"Oh, you son of a bitch, Sean!" Erika exclaimed, then insisted Sean was just as complicit as she was, and demanded a lawyer.

Larry called for more security and a medic, allowing Michelle and O'Brian to shove past and try to analyse the server. "Chloe, can you recover the files?"

"I don't know yet."

"What files? What the hell is happening?" Sean asked worriedly.

"Yeah, that's what I'd like to fucking know," Larry said under his breath.

Both Erika and Sean tried to protest, but spoke over each other and, with frustration, he told them both to shut up.

There was silence as O'Brian continued to type away, and he prayed that whatever file she was accessing wasn't permanently lost. Judging by the smile that crept across her face, it seemed she had gotten there in time.

"I've cancelled the wipe. Everything has been restored."

Michelle read what was on the screen, then looked over her shoulder. Larry kept his eyes on Sean, who was now handcuffed, and Erika, who was having her wound wrapped.

"Wait…" Michelle said. "That's the whole list?"

O'Brian nodded. "Yeah. The matches between the FBI database and Dubaku's list are Sean Hillinger and Renee Walker."

"Renee?" Larry asked quizzically. "She couldn't possibly…"

"No, she couldn't," Michelle finished. "Otherwise, she would be in this room, not you, Erika."

"But it doesn't explain her SSH key being connected to the hidden transmission of your file," O'Brian rebutted, and Michelle bit her lip.

Larry could tell Michelle was conflicted by this, and he couldn't blame her. It was very hard to believe that the woman who had protected and loved her for so many years could be secretly working with the people who wanted her dead. But besides the emotional side of things, logistically, it made no sense. There had been plenty of opportunities for Renee to get Michelle killed, right back to the beginning, and Larry doubted Renee had been swayed or paid off after she and Michelle had gotten close. Renee didn't betray the people she loved. Even after her and Michelle's breakup, she had been anything but spiteful. She was still as protective of her as she had always been. Her impulsive behaviour this morning was a testament to that.

"Chloe, can you get a date on the transmission?"

She hummed as she tried to do so before tilting the monitor so Michelle could see.

"We were at that conference in New York," Michelle recalled. "All three of us."

Larry nodded as he remembered this, too. "Could the timestamp have been fudged?"

O'Brian shook her head. "Nope, and I've just gotten a location tag with another scan. It was from here. If Renee was with you, she couldn't have done it. Someone obviously used her device and accessed her keys."

Michelle walked closer to Sean and Erika, standing over them with her hands on her hips. "You set Renee up, didn't you?"

"Wait, you told Dubaku that you were Renee?" Sean said with bewilderment. "I thought we agreed we were going to be equally liable."

Erika sneered at him through her pain. "You were making me do all the work. I wanted to cover my ass."

Michelle's jaw twitched. "So Dubaku asked you for FBI intel, you figured out what was up with my profile, struck gold, and managed to distribute it without triggering the software."

"Just thought I'd keep him apprised," Erika replied coolly. "Nothing personal. Although it was very sweet to see you defend your girlfriend, sorry, ex-girlfriend."

Larry warily watched Michelle clench her fist, but she walked away.

"She was going to ask you to marry her," Erika called, making Michelle freeze. "She couldn't stop smiling when she came back from her lunch break with the ring–"

"Shut up, Erika," Larry interjected, but Erika clearly didn't feel a need to listen to him because she continued rambling, and, all of a sudden, Michelle didn't seem to want to take the high road. He grabbed her arm just as she went to tower over Erika again, hearing her breathe heavily. "You're better than this," he reminded her. "She's trying to get in your head."

Michelle broke from his grip with a huff, walking back to the main hall and leaving them in silence.

"I guess we can put this case to rest now," O'Brian muttered.

Michelle ran back to Renee's desk, tears pricking the back of her eyes. Renee looked up, then looked back down with no reaction, much the way Tony had in the interrogation room, which only made it hurt more. Jack was nearby, having stepped out of Chloe's office just as she had returned.

"Erika tried to set you up. That's why your key showed up," Michelle explained. "We found the mole."

There was a beat of silence before she said, "Did you sic Bauer on her, too?" with a flat tone.

She sighed. "You know I had no idea he was going to–"

"Well, you should have figured it out," Renee snapped, cutting her off. "You didn't even question him when he said I was the mole."

"I didn't believe him, even for a second," Michelle insisted. "I told you, I trust you–"

"Then it shouldn't have been a matter of debate. This never should have happened."

Michelle pinched the bridge of her nose, unable to find a way to respond to that. She had messed up, big time. It didn't help that Renee had already been through a lot today. But Michelle now had to worry about the state of their relationship, even as coworkers, after today. Her heart broke at the thought of losing her like this. Michelle had spent the last six years trying to fight the demons from her past and create a future with her. However, the presence of so many people from CTU today — not that she blamed them, specifically — had brought up so many emotions that she thought she had worked through. It was messing with her head. In hindsight, she should have figured out that Jack felt the same. He had been trying to protect her because he had been thinking about Nina, particularly since it was likely he was already judging her a little for having a relationship with someone she worked with — again.

Now that they were in something of a quiet period — the FBI was only working on Dubaku's information now and the CIP device aftermath, and although the CIA anticipated some other insidious players to appear today, there was no sign of them yet — maybe she and Jack could take a moment to breathe. There was no point trying to push Renee any further. She had hurt her, so she needed space.

She walked away from Renee's desk and called Saul to update him, now saying with assurance that he could talk to Larry directly now.

"Thank God, we figured this out. Come down to Langley when you can."

"Will do," she said with a small smile, realising she should feel a lot happier about the work she had done today than she was.

Jack approached her as she hung up with a look of apology on his face.

"I should have trusted you, I'm sorry."

Michelle let out a breath. "It's fine. I know you were just looking out for me." She looked back at Renee and pressed her lips together. All she wanted to do was get on her knees and beg her to forgive her, but there was no point. Not now, at least. "I'm going to go out for a while. I need some air. Then I'll head to Langley."

"By yourself?" Jack asked, raising a brow.

Michelle bit her lip. "You're not going to let that happen, are you?"

"Come on," he said with a soft expression. "I haven't been to DC in years. Let's go for a walk."

They ended up at the Washington Monument, watching the sun slowly set over the horizon, the sky the colour of apricots. She and Renee had taken many walks around here on their lunch break or after work. They had talked about everything and anything here. It was their spot. Jack seemed to be in a slightly nostalgic mood, too, mentioning that he and Audrey used to eat lunch here sometimes.

"I'm sorry about what I did to Renee before," he said, not looking at her. "I assumed I was going to be more objective than you, and I was wrong."

"It's okay." She sighed. "I understand why it was hard for you."

There was a beat. "How serious were you and Renee?"

"I would have married her," Michelle admitted. "I almost did. I… I'm the one who stopped her from proposing to me because the timing was around the time I had to infiltrate the FBI, and I couldn't tell her anything. I didn't want to lie to her, so..."

He nodded. "I'm sorry."

The brief moment of peace was soon interrupted by the feeling of the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, a familiar sense of fear entering her gut. She glanced at Jack beside her, and he seemed to feel the same, his hand going to his weapon. Someone was watching them. A dark shadow slowly crept closer, making Michelle whip her head around. She found Tony, no longer wearing his leather jacket, sporting a black eye and a busted lip, gingerly sitting on one of the stairs behind them.

"What the hell happened to you?" Michelle asked.

"Payback for betraying David," Tony answered, his face stony as he continued staring out across the water, disregarding her visible concern. "It's not important. I need to talk with you both."

"About?" Jack asked, also craning to look at Tony.

Tony sighed. "I told you I was going to follow up on a lead."

"No, you said you were going to turn yourself in as soon as this was over," Jack corrected.

"And I will. But like I said, this ain't over yet," Tony rebutted, pushing right past Jack's clear annoyance. "There's going to be another attack here in DC."

Michelle thought about who else they had on their watchlist that was connected to Dubaku and might not be pleased by his arrest. "Juma?"

"How'd you know?"

"The CIA looked into him, too," Michelle explained. "We eased off since it didn't look like he was personally involved with the CIP device, but we haven't forgotten about him."

Jack then asked, "Who's the source?"

"Someone from Emerson's crew. He has a direct line of communication with the Juma regime in Sangala. It wasn't easy getting the information out of him, but I'm convinced it's accurate."

"Then hand it over to the FBI," Michelle suggested. "We've found the mole. That part's over. Chloe's there, too. You can trust–"

Before she could continue to reason with him, he cut her off with, "My source tells me that the window opens at nineteen hundred hours. By the time the FBI wades through their procedures and red tape, it's going to be too late."

"Then go to the CIA. Saul will take this seriously–"

"Michelle, we don't have time."

She huffed. "Do you really mean that, or are you just too stubborn to let him listen?"

"What's the target?" Jack said, stopping them before the conversation got heated again.

"He doesn't know the exact target, but it's definitely going to be of high value and high impact," Tony answered emphatically. "He gave me the name of somebody who's been involved in the planning."

"Who?"

"Ryan Burnett."

"Senator Mayer's Chief of Staff," Jack specified tersely.

He tipped his head in acknowledgement. "That's right. He's been involved from the very beginning."

"What about Mayer?" Jack followed.

"No," Michelle was quick to say. "He's CIA. He's not involved."

They both looked to her, confused. "The senate hearing was all a ruse to get you to DC, Jack." She smiled a little at him, seeing the subtle relief in his expression. "It was the only way I could track you down without making you think you were in danger. Mayer's been helping the CIA try to fish out the mole in Taylor's cabinet."

"Didn't do a very good job if he couldn't even bust his own Chief of Staff," Tony uttered.

She wanted to say something to his snide comment, but was too tired to muster the energy.

"You better not be lying, Tony," Jack warned.

"This is real," he implored.

"Burnett will be on Dubaku's list then. As soon as he finds out that Dubaku's in custody, he'll start running," Jack concluded.

Michelle sat up, trying to refocus herself on the case — as if she had focused on anything else for the last six years. "We need to get moving then."

"I've already got a tail on him. If you're with me, meet me at the corner of First and Constitution."

Neither of them said anything, but Tony stood and went to leave, putting his sunglasses back on. He paused, looking down at both of them and softening his voice. "I need your help. Please."

Michelle met his gaze. Although today had revealed a lot about Tony to her, and at times, she had considered him unrecognisable... his eyes told her she could still trust him.

Michelle watched as Jack straightened his tie, occasionally looking at the cars around them. It was hard not to think about the day she and Tony had dropped him off by the train tracks. She wondered whether Tony was thinking about it, too, but his face was still devoid of emotion, and there was obviously more tension to focus on at present. They were about to infiltrate the White House. If Jack didn't get the information out of Burnett in time, they were finished. It also didn't help that Jack was refusing to let Bill, Saul, or the FBI get involved. However, Jack had allowed her to tell Saul that a non-specific attack was imminent. She understood why Jack was somewhat trying to shield the CIA from liability, much the way he had when he had raided the Chinese consulate — it said a lot about his character that he was putting himself on the line like that again here. But given that they were working towards precisely the same goal, it felt counterproductive.

"Listen, Jack, maybe you should reconsider."

He met her eyes in the rearview mirror. "Reconsider what?"

"Taking someone external into your confidence. I know you don't trust the government, but even Bill's been part of this almost since the get-go."

"I don't know what it's going to take to get Burnett to talk. If I have to use extreme measures…"

Tony furrowed his brow. "I don't get it, either, Jack. What– You don't think he'll go there?"

"I'm driving off a cliff here. I don't need to put Bill in the passenger seat."

She sighed. "At least, let one of us come with you."

Jack shook his head. "Michelle, the people who still want to kill you are in there, and you're a wanted felon, Tony: you wouldn't get past the first checkpoint." Michelle had barely pulled to a stop outside their agreed spot before he opened the door, uttering, "See you on the other side."

"Good luck," Tony added, and when he turned back towards her, he revealed that he had been as concerned about Jack as she was.

"He'll be alright," she said unconvincingly.

"Let's hope so." He sighed. "What do we do now? Chloe's on the line with Jack, but I still don't feel right leaving him."

Technically, they could do this from Langley, but that would make them pretty useless if things went horribly wrong and they weren't nearby to help. 

She nodded. "I agree. Let's park somewhere around here. We might be the only ones who can stop this."

Tony happened to have a street in mind. She didn't ask him for context, whether it was something he had used on one of his jobs, or whether it came from having called DC home for some time. For some reason, the thought of the latter hurt more than the former, the idea that he had been here, living, breathing, existing, in DC all this time, and she had never run into him. How different would things be if they had found each other earlier?

"Michelle?" Tony asked, snapping her out of those thoughts. It had only been a moment, but she felt like she had been musing for hours. "Are we going to move or not?"

She shook her head. "Sorry. Yes, we should move. Where to?"

Tony gave her directions, and they found themselves at a spot a few minutes away. She reminded herself to breathe. Obviously, she was anxious about what Jack was doing, but she was also anxious about the two of them being targets. Thankfully, Tony's spot seemed secluded enough that she could relax a little. 

"Are you sure you don't want me in the driver's seat?"

She shook her head. "Your eye is half-shut, and it's dark. It's fine. We'll just..." She let out a breath. "Wait here."

"Alright," he agreed with a nod.

Michelle suddenly realised that she could be stuck in this car for hours with him. She hated that the prospect of that seemed more difficult than going into the White House with Jack and risking her life.

Renee felt the wind whip through her hair as she got out of the car. The air smelt of salt, and she could faintly hear foghorns.

Larry hadn't wanted her wasting time going to see Dubaku now that he had agents around him who were not Sean and Erika. She had tried to convince Larry that they needed to be more vigilant than ever, that this day might not be over, but he had only conceded when she had also admitted that she was frustrated, upset, and needed to clear her head.

However, not long after her arrival, she had managed to find a reason to say I told you so because one moment, the doctor had said Dubaku was stable, the next, he had flatlined, and an orderly had seemed very intent on rushing out of the room. Trusting her gut instinct, she had followed him out of the hospital, watched him ditch his scrubs and steal a car. Renee had told Larry she was following him and had tailed him all the way to a warehouse by the marina. 

She now quietly started following the orderly on foot, trying to gauge whether he knew about her presence and was leading her into a trap. The guy seemed young; perhaps he really did think he had come here alone, but she couldn't be sure. 

Despite her chilly surroundings and hyperfocus on the man's actions, she felt nothing but a burning anger in her chest. Her brain also refused to let her forget about the sore tendons in her neck. Out of everything she had gone through in the last twelve hours, watching Michelle stand by and allow Jack to interrogate her had hurt the most. She was still processing the fact that Michelle's position at the FBI had been a lie. It sounded ludicrous, but she knew it was for real. Michelle breaking up with her so abruptly made perfect sense now, and at least assured her that everything had been genuine between them.

However, Renee pointedly tried not to remind herself that the fate of their relationship no longer just depended on the two of them because Tony was back in the picture. She had been calling him Almeida all day, but when she was thinking about him as Michelle's ex, it somewhat made more sense to be more personal. Even if he went to prison for the rest of his life, Michelle wasn't going to steamroll over that. Admittedly, Renee had to admit part of why she was so angry was jealousy. It didn't sit right with her that Michelle, someone she knew to be rational and fair, had gone completely AWOL as soon as Jack and Tony had entered the picture. Yes, part of it was simply a difference between how the FBI, well, how most of the law-abiding government agencies worked, versus the CIA and its pet, CTU. She felt like the FBI had been useless today, that the wool had been pulled over their eyes again and again, while the CIA had done the real work and saved the day. But most of all, she had hated feeling so in the dark when their relationship had been built on such deep honesty and vulnerability. She just needed to talk to her. They needed to get their feelings out and work through this. She hoped Michelle would forgive her, but what if Michelle had other plans now?

Renee shook her head. She had to focus, and she had to stay quiet. Whoever this guy was, he worked for someone who wanted Dubaku dead. And now that that had been achieved, she needed to find out what the next part of their plan was.

When she made it to the bottom of the stairwell, she peeked inside the room to see various men clad in camouflage and brandishing large weapons walking around. She counted about a dozen of them. As if on cue, her cell buzzed. In the glance she took before holding it to her ear, she read Larry's name on the caller ID.

"Walker," she answered quietly.

"It's me. That situation at the hospital you told me about?–"

"Yeah, I'm on it, Larry," Renee said curtly, resisting the urge to berate him for not believing her earlier. "I traced a license plate to an import-export firm."

"Tell me."

She took another glance, ensuring they weren't moving towards the door. "The orderly I mentioned, he just joined up with about a dozen soldiers. Africans. Heavily armed."

"Where are you?"

"44543 Lambourne Marina, near Johnson Park," she answered. "I'm in the warehouse basement."

Larry sounded like he was walking around the bullpen, and when he spoke again, she detected stress in his voice, which was at least an indication that he trusted her this time. "Renee, we have intel on another attack by Juma's people. It's happening in DC. Sometime after nineteen hundred hours."

"That's news to me," she muttered, again looking over her shoulder.

"Berenson just told me. Michelle's following this up, but she hasn't given details to anyone, including him."

She huffed, knowing that could only mean Jack and Tony were still involved. "Well, this is it, Larry. No question."

"All right, listen, sit tight," Larry ordered. "I'm on my way with backup."

As Renee ended the call, she heard footsteps and realised that the soldiers were about to move out. She dashed back up the stairs the way she came and took cover in the shadows. The men filed out of the warehouse onto the docks and began to board a large boat. She deftly followed them, ducking under railings and carefully walking along the watery pier towards the stern. The boat started to take off, and she knew the only thing she could do was follow them to their destination. 

Renee leapt, feeling the impact of the deck hard against her chest. Her gun slipped from her grip, and she cursed under her breath as she realised that the small splash she had heard was the sound of it floating to the bottom of the ocean. The water was a lot colder than the wind, but it thankfully snapped her out of the slight light-headedness she had felt since being shot and strangled. She went to call Larry to update him, but huffed as she realised her phone had been completely soaked.

She was on her own now.

"And after all of that, finally, they came to the same conclusion I had made at the start of the meeting," Renee said with a groan.

Michelle snickered, sipping her wine. "Different agency, same bullshit."

Renee could honestly say she was very grateful to be sitting and talking with Michelle like nothing had happened. Although she really wished something had. She had wanted nothing more in that moment than to cup her face and bring her lips to hers. She had to believe that the way Michelle had looked into her eyes had been because she shared the feelings she had for her, too. But she was also very aware that Michelle had been through so much already, and the last thing she wanted was to make her uncomfortable. She respected and admired her deeply. All Renee cared about was protecting her and making her happy. She would never want her to feel forced into something.

"I'm glad I have you to remind me that I'm not going insane, just surrounded by idiots," Renee said, reaching up to a shelf to put a dried dish away, feeling her shirt lift.

She raised her glass. "Right back at you…" 

Upon hearing her voice trail off, Renee turned to Michelle and saw that she was staring at something, her mouth slightly agape.

"What?" Renee asked gently, tilting her head. 

Realising that Michelle was looking at her waist, Renee peered down, noticing that the gunshot scar on her hip was visible. It then hit her that Michelle had likely never seen it before — at least, not since it had healed. She usually wore long tank tops when she worked out, ones that wouldn't ride up. The night she earned that scar was one she would never forget. Although her initial days of being part of Michelle's security detail had come with resentment, over time, Renee had realised that she cared for Michelle in a way that couldn't be justified with a sense of duty alone. She had checked in on Michelle often, even as her risk level had lowered and it hadn't been that necessary for her to do so. Michelle had been a little reluctant to accept her companionship at first, especially after the night at the church. But Michelle had eventually realised that Renee wasn't going anywhere and started to let her in. Michelle trusted her, and it meant everything. Renee was grateful that Michelle wasn't afraid of something happening to her or that she was going to leave if things became dangerous for Michelle again. As far as Renee viewed things, she was going to protect Michelle until the threat was over, regardless. If she was being honest, though, she didn't think this desire to keep her safe would ever disappear.

While continuing to look at Michelle's concerned expression, Renee took a few steps towards her, before taking her hand, the one that wasn't holding the wine glass, and bringing it to the scar. 

"It's okay, Michelle," she whispered, covering Michelle's hand with her own.

"You… you have that because of me," Michelle replied in a very small voice. "You could have died because of me."

She couldn't stand to hear Michelle spiral into guilt and blame herself for something that wasn't her fault. Renee believed Michelle was doing something so noble, so brave, by still finding it in herself to work for the CIA and finish what she had started, despite what had happened. But Michelle still didn't see that.

So, at this moment, Renee knew she had to try to find a way to make Michelle open her eyes.

Renee wasn't sure what compelled her, but she couldn't deny that everything felt right as she cupped the back of Michelle's head with her free hand and pulled her in so their lips could meet. The kiss was brief but intense. When Michelle pulled back, just slightly, there was a vulnerable yet relieved look in her eyes, her pupils dilated.

Which meant, to her absolute delight, that she wanted this, too.

Michelle slid her hand into her hair, resuming the kiss. Her other hand moved higher from the scar to her waist and gently guided them both back to the kitchen island. Renee took the hint and lifted Michelle onto it so they were roughly at equal level. Every time they stopped to come up for air, Renee found herself lost in Michelle's eyes. Still, both of them moved tentatively. Michelle spread her legs a little, and Renee gradually inched her way to stand between them. Still, she was hyperaware of Michelle's responses, not in any way wanting to push her boundaries. When Michelle didn't quite tug Renee in immediately, she looked at her, suddenly panicked that she had been presumptuous.

"Sorry, I–"

"Don't be," Michelle uttered, taking a breath. "I'm sorry for sending mixed signals the other night. I wanted to kiss you so badly. I... I like you a lot. You care about me so much," she went on. "You saved my life, and I don't mean because you did CPR or because you took a bullet for me, I mean, I… I look at you and I'm reminded that I didn't always use to be this miserable, that I used to be happy. You give me light. You treat me better than I deserve. You're so good to me. I-I'm just afraid of what this means. I don't want you to get hurt because of me."

Renee shook her head slowly, thumbing at the tear that was just below Michelle's eye, tracing over the scar there. "I'm already by your side almost every day. Whatever danger is after you, it doesn't matter to me. I don't care if it's like this for the rest of your life because I promised you I would be there, and I will. Even… even if we become more than friends, that'll only make me want to keep you safe more. You deserve the world, Michelle. I want to be there for you in every way. I have these feelings for you, too. You're… you're incredible. You–"

She was cut off by Michelle pulling her in for another kiss, and this time, Renee could relax a little, knowing they both wanted this. Michelle's fingers slipped under Renee's shirt, creeping up to the clasp of her bra while Renee's worked to untuck Michelle's blouse and do similarly, catching a glimpse of the scars on her chest. It wasn't the first time she had seen them, but they were a powerful reminder of how Michelle had gotten here. Michelle's hands cupped her breasts gently, making Renee hum in approval.

Michelle seemed a little apprehensive about taking her shirt off so Renee decided to continue touching her beneath the fabric, wanting to communicate in every way that she was not scared, she was not disgusted, she was not judgemental, she wanted all of her despite her past, that she thought she was a braver and more committed agent than she could ever be, that she was a wonderful person deserving of love like anybody else. Renee let Michelle take her shirt off, giving her better access to touch and kiss her.

"Bed?" Renee whispered.

"Yeah," Michelle replied, pulling away. Her skin was flushed, and her lips were slightly puffy from kissing. When their eyes met again, Renee felt like she had taken down another layer of her walls. 

As Renee picked her up, Michelle let out a muffled noise, so she gave her a second to wrap her legs around her waist. Michelle moved her mouth to suck at her neck. She walked them both into the dark bedroom, setting Michelle down on the bed. Michelle seemed more comfortable taking off the rest of her clothes now, and Renee followed suit, matching her pace. 

For a moment, they stilled, both of them now bare before each other. Michelle was still sitting on the edge of the bed, and Renee knelt down in front of her, cupping her cheeks and kissing her again. She felt Michelle sigh into her again, before Renee's hands gently guided them both towards the head of the bed so she was hovering over Michelle. Something still didn't feel right, though. It was too dark. She couldn't look into her eyes properly like she had been able to in the kitchen. Renee reached for the bedside lamp to turn it on, but felt Michelle's hand shoot out to grab her wrist.

"It's…" She let out a breath. "It's just easier for you."

Renee shook her head. "I don't want easy, Michelle. I want to see you. All of you."

She hadn't expected so much want to pour from her voice, but it must have been enough for Michelle, because she loosened her grip after a beat. Renee flicked the switch, casting a soft, warm glow over the room. Her hair was slightly fanned against the pillows. The brown of her eyes seemed even richer, deeper, letting Renee see straight into her soul. The scars looked the same as they had all that time ago, accompanied by the slightly newer scar of when the paramedic had jammed the needle of epinephrine into her chest. Renee really hadn't seen them since, as Michelle always opted to wear shirts that covered her chest when they worked out, even when it was warm.

"You're beautiful," Renee told her, before very softly pressing her lips to one of her scars without dropping her gaze. She did it again, and again, feeling Michelle take in a shuddering breath. Renee moved further down her body, taking the time to give each one the same attention and care.

When Renee made it down between Michelle's thighs, she looked up at her.

"Is this too much?"

She shook her head, and Renee realised she was very moved. "N-No. I… I just– It's been a while."

"It doesn't have to be anything more than this. We can take things slow–"

Michelle shook her head. "I want this, Renee. I want you."

There was a very raw vulnerability and desire in her voice that made Renee's heart swell. She felt very privileged to be in this moment, reminded that Michelle had chosen to do this with her, that this was something to cherish. This was the amalgamation of the little glances and chaste touches that had happened leading up to now. Under any other circumstances, it might be a bit much to hear such an emotional outpouring when they had never been physically intimate like this before, but not when Michelle said it. Her story only made her more grateful and aware that everything, especially in their line of work, could be taken away in the blink of an eye. They had to hold onto what they could. And what Renee already knew was that she did love Michelle, she did care about her, initially only platonically with just a fleeting hope that it was more, but now she could put paid to any doubts that her feelings for Michelle weren't reciprocated.

So, Renee knew tonight she would give Michelle everything she wanted and more. Because if Michelle didn't think she was worthy of it, then Renee wanted nothing more than to prove her wrong.

They had sat there in silence for a while, just anxiously waiting for a sign that either something was going well or something was going terribly wrong. There had been multiple moments where either of them had opened their mouth to speak, but then been unable to find the words. Tony couldn't blame her. This wasn't the time to open up the can of worms that was the least six years of their lives. Tony needed to talk to her, though, needed to get it off his chest, needed to beg her to understand what had happened. And he sure as hell wanted an explanation, too. As he had informed her this morning, his anger towards her had been largely driven by her betrayal, not just the way she had betrayed him. He valued loyalty in relationships. He always had. She had agreed to leave government work behind for their future, and had violated it at the first opportunity. She had always had more dedication to the job and serving their country than he had, and that difference was even starker now.

The question was, was it stark enough to mean they could never see eye-to-eye again?

His phone rang, and before she could even ask, he put it on speaker so they could both hear. Bill was on the other line, which could mean he was either updating him on the Matobos' well-being or he knew about what Jack was doing. The latter seemed much more likely.

"Jack's under arrest. They've got him locked down in a holding cell here."

Michelle sighed beside him, placing her hand to her forehead.

Tony said, "Listen to me, Bill–" 

But Bill already seemed annoyed and cut him off with, "No, you listen. We still don't know where the attack's taking place."

Michelle furrowed her brow. "Burnett didn't break?"

"No, they stopped Jack before he could get the information," Bill explained. "And Burnett didn't go for the president's immunity deal. You were the one who brought Jack the intel, right, Tony?"

"That's right," he confirmed.

"How real is it?"

"Very."

Bill still seemed intent on getting all the details. Tony supposed he had no choice but to bring him in, after all. "Who was your contact?"

"It was a guy in Emerson's crew with a direct line to Juma."

"Any chance we get another crack at this guy?"

He stiffened. "That's highly unlikely, to say the least."

There was a pause.

"What, are you telling me, he's dead?!" Bill said incredulously. 

"That's right," Tony answered uncomfortably, and Michelle raised an eyebrow.

Bill huffed. "I wish to God you'd brought me in on this."

"Jack didn't want to put you in that position. For what it's worth, he was trying to protect you, Bill," Tony defended, but he doubted he would be receptive to any form of apology until later.

"Did you have a fallback plan, at least?"

"Immunity for Burnett was the fallback."

Michelle closed her eyes. 

"That's it? Nothing else?" Bill asked with exasperation.

"No. Nothing," Tony concluded tersely.

Bill hung up forcefully, and Michelle pressed her lips together. She seemed like she was going to say something, but decided not to, given that she had heard Bill rip into him just now.

"We have to get into the White House," Michelle decided after a beat. "Saul can help us. We can vouch for Jack and explain everything to the president."

He shook his head. "You heard Jack before. Both of us are vulnerable if we go in. You, especially."

"What choice do we have?"

"Your profile was leaked to the people who want to kill you. All it takes is one person. Even with a fake ID, if they know you, they know you," he pointed out. "I'm not letting you set foot in there." 

Tony was almost surprised by the words coming out of his mouth and the clutch in his chest. He had always been protective of her, and it had been a point of argument more than once while they were still married — the first and the second time. He had never intended to do so in a controlling or manipulative manner: it had simply been a defence mechanism to everything they had been through. No matter how much tragedy CTU had exposed him to, and no matter how much they had discussed this pragmatically in the early stages of their relationship, the more he had fallen in love with her… the less rational he had become.

Michelle seemed a little surprised by his reaction, too. Whether it was because she was offended by it or because it was bringing back her own memories wasn't clear in her expression.

"You have no right to say that to me. This is not your place. This?" She pointed out the window behind her. "This is everything I've worked to stop over the last seven years. What kind of person would I be if I decided to let it go now when they've done so much damage already? I need to see this through, and I'm going in with or without you."

Her voice was level, but not without emotion. He went to find a counterargument, but it was clear she had already made up her mind. They were as stubborn as each other. If they kept arguing, they could be there all night and wouldn't achieve anything in the end.

"Fine," Tony conceded. "I'll go with you. Saul can get us both in, can't he?"

She nodded and proceeded to call Saul. Michelle immediately told Saul he was on speaker and that he was in the car with her. Tony had met Saul once, many years ago, but imagined whatever impression he had had of him then was nothing compared to what he thought of him now. It reminded him a little of when he had first approached Bill and told him what was going on. Although Bill had been willing to listen to him, at the very least out of pity. He doubted Saul would offer the same sympathy. In any case, Saul agreed to help them, recognising that Jack needed all the support he could get right now.

"Alright," Saul finally said, after typing away for a while. "I'm sending the least populated route to your PDA."

Michelle thanked him, but before she went to hang up, she froze. They looked at each other. It had been faint, but he had definitely heard it. More than that, he had felt it: a brief, but powerful rumble under the car.

"What was that?" Tony muttered, looking around for any cars or pedestrians before remembering the street was deserted. "Earthquake?" he postulated, but as he said the word, it didn't sound right.

Michelle bit her lip and shook her head. "We lived in LA for over a decade, we both know that's not it."

She opened up her laptop on the dashboard and started trying to get into what looked like nearby security camera footage and floor plans. 

"Remember Peter Madsen? What if it's an artificial earthquake like the one he caused?" Tony proposed.

Michelle made a so-so motion. Even that didn't sound right. Although that earthquake hadn't been initiated by nature, it had very much still felt like one.

"What's happening?" Saul asked.

"I'm looking for the basement entrance to the White House that's closest to where we are," Michelle explained, before finally settling on one screen. Tony's eyes widened as he saw about a dozen men wearing camouflage storm into the White House basement from a large, smoking hole in the wall. 

"Oh my God," he whispered.

"Saul," Michelle said urgently. "The target is the White House."

Michelle could still feel her heart race as she caught her breath while Renee was slumped on top of her, just as sated. Their hands had found each other, although Renee certainly didn't need her hands right now as she continued pressing slow kisses to all of her scars, her tongue tracing the thicker ones. It was emotional, almost to the point of overwhelm, for her body to receive so much attention, particularly a part that she hated so much.

"I think you've found them all," Michelle said with a chuckle, lacing her free hand through Renee's tangled hair.

Renee hummed against her, and she felt the vibration on her sternum. "I'm just double-checking."

She laughed again, realising how good it felt to do so. Although Renee had been bringing her a lot of happiness since they became friends, to have had a night filled with such elation was something to cherish. The sex hadn't just been about lust, about buried feelings and desire: it had been about connection, trust, vulnerability. The way their eyes had met, the subtle and explicit ways they had communicated to each other about what they both wanted, the feelings of comfort and safety she had had in Renee's arms, the same way she felt whenever Renee was walking with her down a dark alley, only magnified. She had given herself over to Renee in a way that she never thought she would with anyone again and had been affirmed so wholeheartedly that she could trust her.

"Come here," Michelle said, her hands going under Renee's arms, encouraging her to lift her head so their lips could meet. Renee melted under her touch, moving to straddle her, their bodies still so warm.

"I see why you wanted to do this the other night," Renee commented, her lips on Michelle's jaw.

"Oh, really?"

Her voice lowered. "Because... if you had fucked me senseless like you did just now, I definitely would have lost that rematch."

"Ah, you figured out my secret strategy," Michelle said coyly, her lips still stretched into a grin.

As she met Renee's gaze, there was something that seemed to light up in her. "That," she just said.

Michelle squinted at her, her smile dropping slightly, but Renee's fingers came to either side, pushing the corners of her lips up.

"That is beautiful," Renee finished. "Your smile."

She blushed a little. It was incredible how intimate this felt, how it didn't even feel like they had just started showing these feelings for each other, like it had always been this open and adoring between them.

"Well, you should be happy with yourself because you're the one who put it there."

"I am happy, thank you," Renee beamed. She then glanced at her bedside radio and screwed up her face slightly. "It's after midnight. I've got a meeting at eight-thirty."

Michelle returned her pout, pecking Renee's lips as she stood and started to pick up her clothes. She just watched Renee for a moment, noticing the way the lamplight illuminated the freckles on her shoulders, the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders, although as she bent down to pick something off the ground, her eyes caught sight of a...

"Butterfly?" Michelle asked.

Renee placed her hand on the faded tattoo in the middle of her back. "I was eighteen and wanted to spread my wings," she explained, her voice slightly derisory at the end. "Honestly, most days I forget it's there."

"It's cute," she said teasingly.

She finished getting dressed and came over to kiss Michelle.

"I– Tonight was... amazing," Renee said, her voice less coy than before, now more vulnerable.

Her hand cupped Renee's cheek. "I couldn't agree more," she admitted softly.

That assurance made Renee smile in a way that warmed her heart. As they finally parted, Michelle was bewildered to see Renee walk to her bedroom window, opening it up.

"You can use the front door," Michelle pointed out. "You're an adult, you know? We're both adults."

Renee appeared hesitant, turning to look at Michelle again.

Michelle's brow furrowed. "It's not like you haven't stayed late here before. None of the other agents will think it's weird."

She shook her head. "But I usually don't leave looking like I've gotten dressed in the dark, with my hair a mess, and a smile this big on my face. I– Not that I'm ashamed in any way, but, I don't know, isn't it going to come across as questionable for us to be sleeping together? From a professional standpoint?"

That did make Michelle pause. Although her surveillance had lessened with time, her life was still basically under someone's watch twenty-four seven. Nobody had ever said it was forbidden to have personal relationships with them, although, the other guards had somewhat followed suit and stepped up as she and Renee had started hanging out more casually. But she did still have a target on her back and technically it was still possible that someone on her security team had ulterior motives. She trusted Renee with everything she had. But if Saul found out... he probably wouldn't see it that way. And besides, they were still treading water here. Michelle certainly wanted to pursue this relationship with Renee, and by the looks of it, so did she, but there was no need to disclose it yet. 

"Yeah, maybe you're right," Michelle agreed as she got out of bed, dragging a blanket with her to cover her chest. "We can talk about it more later."

She helped Renee open the window wide enough to get out. Although her house was single-storey, it was a little elevated. There was some awning for Renee to use as a foothold, though, so Michelle wasn't too worried. However, Renee seemed to like the dramatic effect because after getting out, her arms folded on the windowsill, she pulled Michelle in again greedily.

"Alright, bye, Romeo," Michelle then said once the kiss broke, gently placing a hand on her chest.

Renee gracefully descended the side of the house like a cat, landing on her feet with a surprisingly quiet thud. She then hopped the nearby fence and made her way over to her car. Some of the guards reacted to the sound, but Renee was already driving off as they came closer, and Michelle had already shut the window.

Michelle closed the curtains, taking a seat on the edge of her bed and cupping a hand over her mouth. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she stifled a laugh of disbelief. She never thought she would smile again after everything that had happened, let alone laugh, but Renee had proven her wrong time and time again. For her to have been so vulnerable around Renee and vice versa tonight was overwhelming in the best way. Her stomach was still doing somersaults like she had just gotten off a rollercoaster.

But the reason she was so emotional was also that she had never thought she would feel worthy of any of this again. A part of her still feared that this would be temporary, that Renee would realise more and more what a mistake it was to be close to her. However, that voice of criticism and doubt was a lot quieter than usual. No, right now, all she could hear was her heart, telling her that she had something so wonderful to hold onto, and that she should, without guilt, without hesitation, without worry.

It would take a while for Michelle to truly believe that, but for now... that sensation would bring her a more peaceful sleep than she had had in years.

While swimming had been a component of her training at Quantico all those years ago, Renee had never anticipated relying on it so heavily until now. She had snuck into one of the rooms on the boat, found detailed schematics of the White House and some serious weaponry, only to be spotted by a young man, one of Juma's soldiers. Without even thinking, she had jumped overboard, and now she was moving her body with all of her might to get away.

The water was freezing, but it was hard to pay attention to that when she could still hear automatic weapon fire directed towards her. The bullets were sounding further and further away, but she wasn't going to turn around and check if she was out of range yet. She just needed to move, get to land, and find a payphone to call Larry and tell her what she had seen.

But clearly the kid wasn't going to give up because she soon heard a running motor and realised he had taken a small raft to chase her. All of her work to put distance between them was obliterated soon enough, the roar getting louder and louder as she approached a cluster of rocks along the shore. She ran as fast as she could, her soaking hair and clothes weighing her down, before using her momentum to get over a retaining wall.

"Hold it right there!" someone shouted, and Renee found herself blinded by the headlights of a four-wheel drive. She could make out the shadow of a man in a Ranger uniform with his hand on his holster.

"I'm Agent Renee Walker, FBI," she shouted, shielding her eyes from the bright light.

His eyes widened with recognition. "Agent Walker, we just got an alert on you–"

"You need to call Larry Moss at the FBI right now. Tell him there's going to be a terrorist attack on the White House."

Thompson nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I'll call it in right away. This is Thompson..."

Before he could pass on the information, he fell against the hood of his car with a bang as bullets pelted his chest. Renee didn't even have time to grab his radio, bolting into the woods with as much urgency as before. She feared with every step that she would trip over a branch or rock that she couldn't see, and it would be her demise. She had to stay alive. She had to warn someone, anyone, with a line to the president that an attack was imminent.

Renee approached a small stone-walled building, but before she could attempt to enter, she found herself staring at the end of the soldier's gun. The fact that he hadn't just shot her had to mean something. He looked upset. Then, as she looked into his eyes, she remembered what she had read in Dubaku's file and what she had heard from eavesdropping on the boat. Everything came together now. Dubaku had had a son, and Renee was staring right at him.

"Juma had your father killed," Renee blurted.

He squinted at her. "What?"

She raised her hands, silently begging him to listen. "Listen to me, I know that Dubaku is your father. Juma's been lying to you. Your father is dead."

Although she certainly wasn't going to let her guard down, it saddened her to realise how young he was.

"My father is alive!" he insisted.

"Juma had to make sure that your father didn't talk. So he sent a man named Udo to murder him."

He shook his head in a way that inclined Renee to believe her words were affecting him, but not enough. His faith was being shaken; however, he seemed to want to cling to what was familiar and remain in denial.

"No. No, I... I don't believe you."

"Look, I was there when Udo did it. That's how I found you, by following him back to the railcar."

He slowly and shakily lowered his weapon.

"General Juma betrayed you."

"You are lying." His eyes were bright with tears. "You are lying!"

As he went to shoot, she managed to grab a shovel from beside her, swinging and clocking him over the head, shattering the glass of the door beside them. She hit him again as he stumbled, getting him to the ground and pressing the handle of the shovel against his throat.

The remnant water on her hands and body made her slip a little, which he used to his advantage, flipping her over and pulling her up. He fought back with an anger that Renee believed could only come from slowly accepting that she was right. She jabbed at his body, trying to get him off her, but found herself being pinned against the wall, his hands around her throat. It didn't help that now the bandage on her neck had come off, so his calloused hands were pressing right on her tender wound, making stars creep into the corners of her vision. All she could do was look him in the eye and beg for mercy. 

But as Renee found herself sinking against the rocky wall, her blinks getting longer and longer, she doubted she would get it. No, she was going to die here before she had the chance to tell the FBI about the attack. Lives would be endangered. It would be a critical failure on their part. But Renee was also thinking about how, if she died now, she would never be able to see Michelle again. Their last interaction would be an argument. She would never be able to tell Michelle that she forgave her...

Renee gasped hoarsely as the pressure on her neck was released. Flashlights danced around everywhere, illuminating the dark woods.

"Renee!" Larry shouted.

"I know the target," Renee rasped as Larry helped her up — she could thank him for saving her life later. "It's the White House."

To her confusion, he didn't seem surprised as they walked quickly to where a chopper had landed. "I know. Berenson just told me," he yelled over the noise.

"How does he know?!" 

"I'll tell you when we land!" 

Again, this was strange. He seemed to be using the noise of the chopper as an excuse, but that was ridiculous. This was urgent. They had earmuffs. Why was he refusing to elaborate on how he had found out and what the FBI was doing about it? Sure, the CIA knowing already had to mean things were in motion, but it didn't add up. The more she studied Larry's expression on the short ride, the more she confirmed that he had to be hiding something from her, and she sure as hell was going to find out.

They landed and made it to a staging area near the perimeter of the White House. She started to look through the documentation there, trying to find the answers. She found herself rubbing her neck without realising it. She was convinced the only reason she was still standing after being sedated, shot, and strangled twice was sheer determination, or perhaps stubbornness.

She did notice Bauer and Buchanan's names on the manifest, which was a little surprising, but she didn't think Larry would keep that secret from her. At the very least, he would have told her on their way. What did they have to do with the CIA? The whole point was that Bauer and Buchanan weren't affiliated with the government out of purportedly justified paranoia.

"Larry, what's going on?" Renee asked, as soon as he had a free moment, placing her hands on her hips. "Why did Berenson know about the target before I did?"

He took a breath and pulled her aside. "He got the intel from Almeida. He and Michelle helped Jack get into the White House."

"W... What?"

"Janis found traffic camera footage of them dropping Jack off, parking in an alley, then..." Larry hesitated, making her stomach do backflips. "They followed him inside."

Larry continued to explain the situation, but all Renee could hear was the sound of her heartbeat drowning out everything else. Michelle was in there with Tony. They were completely outnumbered. Had Juma already taken them hostage, or had they been able to hide? Who was to say that Tony didn't secretly have a hand in this attack? Her mind consciously suppressed the possibility that Michelle had been killed. It was unfortunately very likely because they didn't just have to worry about Juma's people: they also had to worry about the corrupt people in the White House who wanted Michelle dead. Renee didn't like this, not one bit.

"I'm going in there," Renee said, turning towards the White House, not remotely caring how she did so or what trouble she would get in for it.

Larry called her name, but she ignored him. He said it again, caught up and grabbed her bicep. She tried to push him away, but to no avail. "Renee, stop and think about what you're doing. There are dozens of soldiers with automatic weapons in there. Secret Service agents are dead. You'll be killed before you even call out her name."

"I don't give a damn. I'm getting her out of there–"

"Renee," Larry said sternly, but his eyes were sympathetic. "I know how much you care about her, but the president is our priority here, not Michelle."

She fought his grip a little, her heart still screaming at her to run inside and find her if it was the last thing she did.

"Are we clear on that?"

"Clear," Renee answered, meeting his gaze.

He didn't let go of her arm, obviously expecting her to bolt. "Are you sure?"

Rationally, she knew he was right. She had to focus. If they could save and help the president, then they could help the hostages, too. If they took down Juma and his men, then they could search for Michelle. Michelle was more than capable of defending herself, and the fact that she had someone with her, even if he wasn't particularly trustworthy, was better than nothing. She took a breath. No news was good news, right? Even if Michelle was in there… she would have had a plan, beyond just helping Jack. She would have understood the risks and what was at stake, although Renee certainly knew she would gladly sacrifice herself if it put a stop to this. 
 
"Yes," Renee said honestly.

Larry still took a moment to let go of her, then together, they walked back to the staging area, preparing to call the vice president.

But all Renee could think about was that, even if they got into the White House soon, there was a good chance Michelle was already dead. The idea of finding Michelle's body made her want to scream.

Michelle relayed directions from her phone as best she could, just a few steps in front of Tony, who was looking around vigilantly. Even though they hadn't been spotted by anyone so far, all the bodies of Secret Service agents on the floor around them didn't make him feel any better. His phone also wasn't working; Juma had presumably blocked all communication, but apparently, Michelle's line to Saul was still intact. With Bill apparently detained in the White House, and Chloe probably still at the Bureau, Saul was all they had.

There was something painfully nostalgic about fretting over Michelle like this. It had been hard enough in the car, but now, with both of them so vulnerable, he was on high alert, more than he had been in a very long time. This had been so impromptu, and they were vastly outnumbered compared to Juma's people. Michelle was very careful with her movements, but if Juma had the means to disrupt or, worse, listen in on her conversation with Saul, they were finished.

He could faintly hear chatter, but everything was eerily quiet. What their plan was, here, they weren't sure. They could at least be eyes and ears inside and relay information to the CIA, but then what? They would have to wait until a field team came in and pray that one, they would be successful enough to give them a way out, and two, that none of them were secretly part of the group of people that wanted Michelle dead. Hell, even a pissed off agent who had known someone on one of those commercial planes might want him dead.

Tony started to hear noises, but trusted that Michelle was guiding them correctly. Then they started to get louder, but she still wasn't reacting.

"Michelle," he whispered. "Can't you hear that?"

She furrowed her brow, but then cursed under her breath and stopped in her tracks. They had to hide, fast. If Juma's people found them, they likely wouldn't even be taken as hostages: they would be killed on sight.

Michelle frantically looked around her, and while he couldn't hear Saul on the other line, it seemed they were out of options. She motioned with her head towards the wall. "The air vent will take us to where Jack and the president are." 

Tony immediately worked to open it, grateful it didn't creak too much. He also moved a nearby table towards it so they could climb in. Michelle went first, and as her top rode up, he caught a slash of a large patch of discolouration on her back. She pulled it down with one hand, but it soon became clear this was going to be a tight fit. Michelle craned her neck, at least as much as she could manage.

"What are you doing?" she hissed. "Come on!"

He shook his head, climbing in behind her. "Probably should have been me first," he muttered.

Although he couldn't see her, he didn't doubt she was rolling her eyes as she huffed. "You looking at my ass is the least of our problems right now. Shut the grate."

Tony obliged, and they awkwardly started to shuffle through the duct. Michelle would pause whenever they passed another grate beneath them, firstly testing that it was secured, and then that nobody was looking through it on the other side. 

"What is this? Die Hard?" Tony grumbled, trying not to make too much noise as he inched his way through a particularly narrow portion of the vent. He wasn't sure why he was pointing out something so vacuous right now, but rationalised it as a coping mechanism to distract himself from thinking about how insane this was, and how likely it was going to get them killed.

Michelle snorted. "What? You're McClane and I'm Holly?"

"Tonight, I think we both have to be McClane," he countered, reminded that it was the two of them and Jack against God only knew how many terrorists.

They eventually arrived at a T-junction, but soon realised that both paths led to the same place: the saferoom they were trying to get to, so they ended up facing each other. He could hear the president; it sounded like she was asking about her daughter, and Jack was reminding her that her life was the most valuable here. When Michelle went to adjust the vent over the room so they could look inside and confirm where they were, they were met with Jack pointing his gun at her.

"Jack, it's Michelle!" she whisper-yelled. "Tony's with me, too." 

He lowered the gun and stepped closer to the grate, as did the president.

"What are you doing here?"

"We're here to help you," Michelle explained. "Are you okay?"

Jack shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Hang on," President Taylor said, also walking closer. "How did you two get in here and avoid Juma?"

"Madam President, I had contact with Saul Berenson from the CIA," Michelle answered. "We're the ones who told him about the attack as it happened. We believe someone on the inside is actively aiding Juma."

Her eyes widened with horror. It never failed to both amuse and sadden Tony every time he saw someone react with so much shock to the notion that someone who ostensibly served their country could have ulterior motives. The former had come from years with David, responding to corruption with smugness and self-righteousness, as if he were somehow superior for not trusting any form of government institution. But really, it had all been a ridiculous coping mechanism to mask the latter, the deepseated betrayal he had felt time and time again that no matter how hard he, Jack, Michelle and everyone else he had ever known had tried to stop bad things in the world, it had all been futile knowing some of the people they had served had been behind it all.

Michelle started explaining to the president that things weren't safe for her, and that she had to be careful about who she trusted. Better she hear it from a CIA agent than a fugitive, Tony supposed.

"Wait a minute, what did you say your name was?"

"Agent Michelle Dessler, ma'am. Former CTU, currently CIA."

The president then moved her head, her piercing gaze meeting his. "And by Tony…" She narrowed her eyes. "You mean to say I'm looking at Tony Almeida?" 

He exhaled. "Yes, Madam President."

"Haven't we spent the whole day trying to hunt you down because we theorised you were on a mad revenge spree over your wife's apparent death?" The president pointed at Michelle. "And now you two are working together?"

She sighed, looking uncomfortable. "It's a long story, Madam President."

"And I will demand to hear it once this catastrophe is over."

The president tried to ask Jack about opening the door and getting her daughter inside. Jack refused, then whipped his head around at the sound of beeping, walking towards the door.

"What's he doing? Is that some kind of explosive?" the president asked worriedly.

"Oh my God, they've got access codes," Jack realised.

He started to work frantically to short-circuit the entrance point. This only further confirmed to the president that someone from the inside was driving this entire attack. Something as sensitive as access codes to a White House saferoom couldn't have been easily obtained by hacking alone. If Juma had the codes, it was because someone had given them to him.

Jack then came closer to the vent, working on opening some valves of natural gas. One spark, and the entire room would be blown to pieces. Judging by the amount of gas, a blast might be enough to make the duct they were in collapse.

Juma then threatened the president's daughter. While Tony couldn't see what Jack and the president were seeing, Tony didn't need that to know this hit a nerve for Jack. Even though it appeared Jack hadn't had contact with Kim for quite some time, he wondered how he could ever go a day without thinking about her. 

"Jack," Tony said, struggling to reach into the pockets of his jacket in such a confined space. "I have a block of C4 that I can trigger remotely. If you lure Juma's people in here, I can set off the explosion as a diversion."

"What's the range on it?"

Michelle looked at him expectantly.

"I'm not sure, but we don't have a choice," Tony said. "It's our best option."

"Combined with the gas, there's a good chance the ceiling will cave in and take you both down with it," Jack pointed out.

"We know, Jack. We have to protect the president," Michelle said, having already come to that conclusion.

Tony opened the gate and passed the block to Jack, who placed it as far away from the grate as possible, while still concealing it from anyone who might spot it as soon as the door opened. Combined with the decently high ceiling and his own knowledge of the security and architectural requirements of saferooms, Tony was cautiously optimistic that they would be shielded from most of the blast, but he couldn't be certain.

Jack looked between them with the same solemn expression he had when they had dropped him off at the train tracks all those years ago. The two of them stayed incredibly still as Jack opened the doors. There was yelling and commotion, but Jack was eventually directed to sit with the other hostages, and Juma started making demands to the president.

"Look…" Tony uttered quietly. "I'll be alright, you need to go."

"No," Michelle said. "If the duct collapses, I'm going down with you."

Tony shook his head. "You and Saul are the only ones who can finish this. He can get you somewhere safe."

Michelle bit her lip. Even in the dark, he knew that face: she was lying.

"I lost connection with Saul as soon as we stepped into the White House," she admitted.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She lifted one shoulder. "Because you never would have let me get this far if I had." 

She was damn right about that. He would have dragged her kicking and screaming away from the White House if she had suggested going in there so blindly. But really, even if it had come to that, she still would have won.

"How did you navigate the halls?"

"Saul gave me schematics that I downloaded locally before we got out of the car," Michelle explained. "The rest was just me trying to listen out for hostiles."

Tony recalled she had been very late to react to the noise. He supposed that pretending to talk on the phone probably hadn't helped her focus, but still… it was nagging at him.

"You took a second to hear them," he commented. "Were you that distracted?"

"I lost some of my hearing in the bomb, that's why," Michelle explained. "I'm better at hearing low frequencies, which is why I felt the ground shake."

His face softened. "I'm sorry."

She didn't reply, instead deciding to look down through the grate in case Juma's people came in, but there was nothing so far. He decided to check, too. If they didn't get an opportunity, hostages would die, or worse, the president. His own grievances against the government aside, he recognised how chaotic things would be if she were assassinated like this. It all started to feel so hopeless. If Jack was part of the hostages, the only way for him to distract Juma and his people would be to put himself at risk — something Tony and Michelle both unfortunately knew he would have no issue with. Things could only get worse from here if they didn't think of something.

"I tried to kill myself," Michelle said after a while, still looking through the grate.

"What?" he whispered.

"A... About a week after they discharged me from the hospital, I took a bunch of sleeping pills." There was a distance to her voice that frightened him.

He didn't know what to say to that. He didn't know if she was saying it to make a point of it or if she was just getting it off her chest. When he had envisioned talking to her about everything, he hadn't imagined it like this. He was struck with a feeling of panic, like he was dying before a priest and needed to confess all his sins so he might have the slightest chance of forgiveness. He couldn't find the right words to say. He had so many things he had to ask, not just to her about their time apart, but to God above about why all of this had happened to them.

"All I have wanted to do since I found out you were alive is tell you how sorry I am. I need you to understand that the reason I said yes to helping the CIA was fear," she went on. "With every passing year that we worked for the government, the thought of bringing children into this world scared me more and more. We had so many near-misses and threats to deal with, day in and day out. I thought leaving would help me let go of that, but it only made it worse. It took away my power. It took away my feeling of safety because being able to have some kind of control over stopping the bad things in this world gave me comfort."

He could understand. He had held those fears, too, but really, the difference was that she had been much more proactive about them. He remembered the conversations they had had about wanting to give their children long, happy, and safe livelihoods, not wanting to be so overprotective that they compromised on their quality of life. But Tony had never quite been able to convince himself he would be able to manage that. He doubted he would ever be able to stand in a public place without thinking about entrances and exits, scanning people in the crowd, wondering, just wondering, if something horrible was about to happen.

"I thought consulting would be a good compromise," Michelle said, shaking her head. "I thought I wouldn't have to be near it. I thought it would be over quickly. I'd look through some files, find an anomaly, something to give them a lead, use the money to support us, and then move on. You were right when you said I would still do it all over again, but I wouldn't have been so stupid to assume that I didn't need protection, and I absolutely would not have kept it a secret."

He could hear so much guilt in her voice. As she had spoken, her pace had increased rapidly, and through keeping her volume quiet, her voice had broken more than once, like she was pouring her heart out, like this had been weighing on her mind for so many years, which it certainly had, and only now could she finally talk about it with him. Being on the precipice of death was certainly an odd time to do so, but really, in this line of work, sometimes their most vulnerable conversations had happened at the worst of times. After all, the looming threat of a nuclear bomb had ultimately been the catalyst for them to admit their feelings for each other. 

"The only reason I kept it to myself was that I knew it would blow up into something huge, and I didn't want that. I didn't want to ruin all the work we had done in that year we got back together. I was a coward. It's no excuse, I know that. I do."

"You weren't a coward," Tony corrected. "For you to risk your life the way you have, for you to keep going despite it all, that's more courage than I've ever seen in anybody else."

She seemed very receptive to those words, but also understood that his commendation of her character did not erase how she had hurt him. "I-I felt so guilty about hiding from you. I was going to tell you everything. It was eating me up. I couldn't go on, but then... then that morning happened." She sniffled. "I know this barely scratches the surface, but I'm saying this now because we might not make it out of here alive, and I need you to know that the only person who has ever hated me more than you do is me."

Although this conversation had cleared some things up and given him some understanding, the betrayal of being lied to still stung. It had made him question so much. He had proudly believed their relationship had never been better. His trust in her hadn't been shattered, though. It had been broken, yes, but not beyond repair, not to the point where he was paranoid and believed she could be lying to him now. It wasn't like what had happened with Nina, far from it. Really, if he didn't trust her, they wouldn't be in this duct together right now. He also realised he was still being defensive, perhaps because for all these years, his voice of conscience and guilt, making him question what he was doing on the wrong side of the law, had always sounded a lot like her. And seeing now that she had suffered so much over it made him want to let go of that inane idea David had put in his head that Michelle was cold and saw the loss of their son as acceptable. She might be a little more rational than he was at times, but she was not cold.

"Michelle…" Tony said softly. "I don't hate you. I hate what's happened to us. I hate what we've had to do, but I don't hate you. I've never hated you." 

She choked back a sob, but clasped a hand over her mouth to avoid drawing attention to them.

"I was so happy when David told me you were alive," Tony emphasised, trying not to let the memory of David consume him. "Even though I didn't understand why you'd lied about working for the CIA or what had happened, you were alive. You were out there. I could find you..." 

It hit him now that this was really the first time he had sat down and looked at her all day. Maybe the tightness of the duct made it more intimate, but they were here together, and he felt a desperate need to capture every moment here.

"I'm sorry about what I said when I interrogated you," Michelle said, pursing her lips. How could she possibly be finding it in herself to apologise for that now? "I was out of line."

He shook his head. "You were interrogating me, and you probably had to prove that you wouldn't go easy on me. That, and given what you thought I was doing, it was a fair call."

"I'm sorry about what happened at the hangar. Really, I am," Michelle said. "I might not agree with his actions, but I know you cared a lot about him."

It still astounded him that she could offer so much kindness about this. She should still hate him, and she should certainly hate David, too, yet here she was.

"He was all I had," Tony stated simply, his eyes crinkling. "I had nothing left. I didn't.... I didn't want anything to do with him, at first. But going out on my own would have been suicide. Those people would have come after me, and I wouldn't have been able to take them."

That wasn't quite true. He had tried to escape the first night he had woken up in David's compound, basically hoping that he would be gunned down and that his misery would be put to an end. David had drugged him and dragged him back to the house. That cycle had repeated a few more times before Tony had finally given up from exhaustion.

"I took everything David said as gospel. He told me that the rules had changed, and there was no thing such as honour left. He said we had to take care of each other like brothers." 

He took a shuddering breath, David's voice playing in his head like it was yesterday. Although he should start thinking of his time with David as behind him, he wasn't ready to let go yet.

"And you believed him?" Michelle didn't ask it with disgust, to his surprise.

"I did," he admitted. "I was in such a vulnerable place. Like I said, I... I had nobody, and David was…"

"There for you?" Michelle offered.

Tony sighed and nodded. "Pretty much. I-I don't know where I'd be without him. I know I can't make excuses. I know I have a clearer head than I did back then, but, at the time, it saved me."

Again, she seemed to understand. After all, it had been a long time, and she ostensibly had not been totally alone, either.

"Not that it's my place, but… I'm a little surprised you dated an FBI agent when you were well-aware there was at least one mole in the Bureau."

"No, it isn't your place," she said, but she was smiling slightly. "Renee was one of the agents assigned to protect me from the beginning. She had been vetted extensively. Nothing even remotely linked her in terms of motive or opportunity to get involved with the conspiracy. Add to that, she's saved my life, more than once..." She shrugged. "It's hard to argue with that."

Tony noticed a very heartfelt look in her eyes.

"It was a risk just for her to be near me, but she didn't care. She didn't see what I did. She didn't look at me like damaged goods or the heartless woman who got her family killed, like I'm sure everybody else did." There was a hint of bitterness as she said that. "Renee saw through all of that and looked at me for who I am," Michelle said fondly. "She… she made me feel worth loving again."

In a very painful way, Michelle's words reminded him of how he had felt about her when they had first met, even before they had gotten together. She had told him she didn't think he was pathetic or suspicious because of what had happened with Nina. She had just understood that he had been played and that his only crime had been his loyalty to the woman he had loved.

"She was my only friend for the longest time. I might have been working at the CIA, but you have no idea how alone I felt," she said with a slight harshness, like she felt the need to make a point that she hadn't been living some wonderful, happy-go-lucky life in their time apart. "When we admitted our feelings for each other, it was a sign of hope for me, a sign that I still deserved to be living and breathing while I thought you were dead, that I had killed you." 

Due to his stubbornness, it had been hard for him to think about how she had been in just as much of a dark place as he had all these years. He had felt guilty about his actions, but she clearly had, too. She was an honest and good person. She had done all this to serve her country. It hadn't been to hurt him. It hadn't been an act of pointless stubbornness. It had felt necessary for her. The only reason she hadn't said anything was that she, rightfully, had feared his reaction would be negative and utterly controlling. Yes, her decision to help the CIA had gone against everything they had agreed on the day of Marwan's attacks, but he could also understand that it was hard for someone to let go of that innate need to do the right thing. He saw it in Jack, every time he got called back to help with something, no matter what he had lost or suffered the previous time. And Michelle and Jack were similar in a lot of ways, so it made sense.

Michelle's gaze dropped. "Except when I broke up with her."

He tried to act slightly surprised, not wanting her to know that some of what she had said was not news to him.

"If you don't mind me asking, why did you break up with her?"

"When it came time for the CIA to plant me in the FBI, I knew I was going to have to lie to Renee about why I was there. It felt easier to do that if we were colleagues than if we were in a relationship. I– I just couldn't."

Although he had known this from the hangar, his mind went back to the Salazar operation again, that horrible look of shame in her eyes when she had said how stupid she felt for not having noticed he was going behind her back.

"Especially when we were that serious.. I… I hoped she would understand once this was all over. But obviously, she was hurt by both the abruptness and the fact that she knew I was hiding something. I tried to say it was for the sake of her career, and that I didn't want the FBI to think nepotism was involved. I tried to talk about how messy it got when the two of us filed those papers at CTU, and everything that happened after. She knew it was bullshit, but I also refused to tell her the real reason, so…"

"Well, for the record, I never would have suspected you weren't together any more," he admitted quietly.

She furrowed her brow, and he laughed a little with an awkward smile. "When you were at the hangar, you two seemed… pretty close. Hard to argue with that."

Michelle's cheeks reddened a little. It made that slight feeling of jealousy, but mostly happiness for her, come back. Maybe it was the fact that they were sitting ducks in here and that things could go horribly wrong any second now. But he just needed to know. Not to be spiteful. Not so he could make her feel bad. So he could understand.

"Do you still love her?"

The question caught her by surprise, but before she could answer, they were brought back to reality by the sound of commotion below them. They saw shadows moving, mostly clad in camouflage. Jack shouted Bill's name, and before Tony could think about it, he detonated the C4.

The bang of the blast rattled deafeningly against the metal of the duct. The last thing Tony noticed before everything went white was that Michelle had grabbed his hand.

Michelle still couldn't get over how nice it felt to wake up next to somebody else. She took comfort in the feeling of Renee's body against hers, the gentle sound of her breathing, the faint smell of perfume on her skin. Her arm was draped over Renee's waist, their hands intertwined. The sun was already shining through the windows. Little things like this reminded her why she was alive. Renee had taken all those years of self-hatred and guilt and proved them wrong, proved that she still deserved to have a life and feel loved. They had been together for some time now, but Michelle never failed to remind herself of how grateful she was to have her every morning when she woke up.

Renee shifted after a while, taking a breath.

Michelle kissed the butterfly between her shoulder blades. "Morning, beautiful," she mumbled.

"Morning," Renee replied, squeezing her hand, before rolling over so she could face her and they could kiss properly. 

She nuzzled Michelle's nose and tugged her body closer. Michelle tipped her head back as Renee started pecking kisses over her jaw and neck. But then Michelle's eyes widened as she caught sight of the clock on the bedside table. The number was slightly distorted through the empty wine glasses, but the hour alone was a concern.

"Oh, shit, we're so late," Michelle said, cupping Renee's face and giving her a kiss on the mouth. "Get up."

As Michelle got out of bed, frantically trying to pick up her clothes from the floor, she blushed a little as she noticed Renee was just watching her with a smirk. She seemed to have no intention of getting out of bed, and, really, Michelle couldn't blame her. 

"Don't give me that look."

"What look?" she asked innocently.

"That one," Michelle answered, punctuating her words by tossing Renee's shirt at her. "You know I feel like it should be you up here worrying about being late, not me," she pointed out, before placing a hand to her chest in mock worry. "Have I corrupted you with my dubious CIA ways?"

Renee laughed. "If that's what you call what we did last night, then yes, you have corrupted me, and I'd very much like you to corrupt me again."

"Consider it a date." Michelle gave her a knowing look. "Come on, we have to get dressed."

"Do we have to?"

Michelle rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but grin at Renee's pout. "We both have that conference call with NSA at nine. Come on."

She went to grab something from her cupboard, but stopped at the feeling of Renee's arms snaking around her waist. Michelle twisted her neck to see Renee kneeling on the bed, pressing her body against hers. Her lips found Renee's. It was too hard to resist, but, then again, she wasn't trying very much, either. Michelle smiled against Renee, leaning into her touch. She let Renee tug her down so she could straddle her, playfully pinning her wrists above her head.

"I'd better make this quick, then." 

"Why? Is there someone else you have to get to?" Renee teased.

She hummed. "Ah, you got me. You see, there's this FBI agent I have a huge crush on. She's gorgeous. She's got red hair and these adorable little freckles. She's incredible at her job, too…"

"How is she in bed?"

Michelle dropped her head near the shell of Renee's ear. "Very good," she purred.

"Oh, she sounds wonderful," Renee murmured, catching her lips for another hungry kiss.

When Michelle leaned back, she met Renee's eyes and fell silent, almost moved to tears by the way she was looking at her. She was wearing nothing but a half-buttoned shirt over her underwear, her hair was all over the place, and she knew she had a zit on her forehead, but Renee looked at her like she was an angel.

"You're beautiful when you smile," Renee said in a very fond way, cupping her cheek, then running her hand down her arm. "When you light up, it's like the whole world lights up with you."

Michelle smiled shyly. She wanted nothing more than to show her how grateful she was in every way, but they really had to get going. At this rate, they wouldn't even have time for breakfast. 

"As tempting as this, and I do mean tempting, Larry is going to fry your ass and Saul is going to fry mine if we're late."

"It'll be fine."

Michelle cocked a brow.

"I have the most beautiful woman in the world in front of me. Larry has to understand that I was late because I was making sure she knew how much I appreciated her."

She snickered. "You know what? Just for that…"

Michelle lowered her head, her lips coming to the junction of Renee's neck and shoulder.

"Hey!" Renee slapped her back lightly as Michelle started to suck at her neck, scraping her teeth a little. 

She then blew cold air over it, before hovering over Renee to peck her lips. "Come on. If we hurry, I can help you cover it up."

"I'm getting you back for that later."

"Why do you think I did it? You're cute when you're feisty."

Michelle held out her hand to help Renee up, yelping as Renee grabbed her ass. They managed to get dressed without taking each other's clothes off again, quickly applied some powder to the fresh lovebite on Renee's neck, attempted to remove the creases that had formed from their clothes being on the floor all night, and even made a couple of coffees for them to have on the go. 

Michelle locked up the house, stealing one last kiss and telling Renee to have a good day as they each went to their cars.

"Love you," Michelle called out without even thinking.

"Love you, too," came the response, before a pregnant pause.

She looked over at Renee, slightly surprised but not displeased. Renee seemed to have the same reaction.

"Did you just?–"

"Did you just say it back?"

There was silence again before both of them laughed a little in disbelief, nodding.

"We'll, uh, talk at lunch?" Renee offered. "Our usual spot?'

Michelle smiled. "Can't wait."

Renee still couldn't shake the giddiness as she arrived at the FBI just five minutes before the meeting. She had called Janis in the car to let her know she was running late so she could have the relevant intel ready for her. She walked as fast as she could down the hall to where Janis was waiting at the entrance to the bullpen. They immediately fell into lockstep as they headed to the meeting room.

"Larry's waiting," Janis informed her, passing her the folio before looking her up and down. "You're awfully chirpy for someone who's about to get their ass whooped for being late."

"I'm not late," Renee quipped, still struggling to wipe the smile off her face before she walked into a meeting regarding serious and dangerous matters of national security. "I've still got a minute."

Janis squinted slightly. "Didn't you wear that yester–? Oh, you guys are like…"

Renee winked at her and walked in, smoothly taking her place in the seat left for her. Larry's eyebrows rose, and she bit her lip as the NSA and CIA agents appeared on the screen. Luckily, Larry did most of the talking, so she wasn't caught off-guard by any surprise questions. But his eyes bored into her every time he looked in her direction.

Once the meeting was over, she stayed in the room with Larry, knowing without a word that he didn't want her to go anywhere.

"You were with her last night again, weren't you?"

Her relationship with Michelle was still something of a secret. It was inter-agency, so there was no need to disclose anything, technically. But she also knew about Michelle's position of being a high-value target, and she had the scar to prove it, so they had still agreed to keep it need-to-know. They would make things official when the time was right and the threat on Michelle's life was a little less serious. At least, Renee could only hope that day would come. Of course, in a workplace like the FBI, it wasn't going to go unnoticed that she was involved with somebody.

"We overslept. It won't happen again. I'm sorry," she said genuinely. "Was it that obvious I was with her?"

He snickered. "You can't stop smiling and there's a hickey on your collarbone."

She placed her hand to it, blushing. Obviously, she hadn't done a very good job of covering it. "She told me she loved me this morning, and I said it back," she admitted.

His expression softened. "I'm happy for you." His voice then became a little sterner. "But don't ever be that late again."

She looked into her lap. "Understood."

"Now that that's out of the way…" Larry smiled a little. "Tell me everything. You've been so secretive about her, and it's been months, hasn't it?"

Renee lifted a shoulder. "Like I told you, she's a CIA agent. She's been in some pretty dangerous situations, so she's a private person. We agreed to keep things on the down-low until they got serious."

He nodded. "Fair enough. She must really trust you then."

"Yeah." Renee subconsciously touched her waist. "She does."

Michelle arrived with just under ten minutes to spare, which meant Renee would have barely made it in time. She hoped Larry would be forgiving, given that Renee was usually very punctual. After going through the security checkpoints, Michelle went straight to the boardroom, still unable to allow her face to become neutral. Rebecca seemed to know, raising an eyebrow at her. However, Saul also seemed to know and looked a lot less pleased about it.

The words replayed in her mind over and over again, each time creating a new spark of joy. Renee loved her, and she loved Renee. The fact that she hadn't even thought before saying it and felt no regret whatsoever was a good thing. It had felt right. It was true in every way. All this time, Michelle had thought these feelings for her had been solely of gratitude, an intense appreciation for the few people she had left in her life, but she realised now it was so much more than that. It was love, and it made her feel so wonderful to know that Renee felt the same way.

The meeting came and went, and Saul followed her back to her office, holding some kind of document wallet. He took out what appeared to be a photo and slid it across her desk.

"Care to explain this?"

She pressed her lips together. It looked to be taken from CCTV footage in a parking garage. The photo showed her and Renee kissing near her car. Although it was a little blurry, anyone who knew her could easily tell who it was. She understood why he was bringing this up, she did. It was his responsibility to keep her safe. But she wasn't a child, and she wasn't an idiot in love. She had known the risks going in, and so had Renee. She wasn't going to let Saul berate her for it, and certainly not after such a good morning.

"How long have you been with her?"

Michelle sighed. "Over six months."

"I've had people watching you every second of every day, how the hell did I not know about this?"

She looked into her lap. "I… I told the other agents not to tell you. Although given how many 'sleepovers' Renee and I have had, I'm surprised you didn't figure it out."

His eyebrows rose. "Jesus Christ, does nobody have integrity any more?" He tutted. "Who was it?"

"Saul, don't, alright? It's my fault."

He rubbed his hand over his face, laughing mirthlessly. "You know, when I picked out people for your security detail, it was so you could be protected, not so you could pick one to sleep with."

"Saul, I love her," she said emphatically.

"That's even worse." He lowered his voice. "Walker is an FBI agent, Dessler. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"If she wanted me dead, I'd be dead ten times over, Saul," Michelle argued. "You know that."

He huffed. "Even if she's not trying to kill you, we know she works directly with at least one person who does. She could be relaying information to them, intentionally or unintentionally–"

"She's not another Nina or another Allison, Saul," Michelle snapped, cutting him off.

That struck a nerve for him, but she didn't care. This was different. She would not allow him to project his past onto her. It wasn't personal. Saul was good to work with. She did trust him, and he was a man of his word. But with him so constantly occupied and overzealous in making sure she was safe twenty-four-seven, on top of all the duties he had running the CIA, they weren't exactly friends. She knew the risk of her situation. But she also knew they would never lure out the members of this conspiracy if she spent the rest of her life bubble-wrapping herself physically or emotionally.

"She is all I have, please. I trust her with my life now more than ever."

"So help me God, if you're wrong," he warned, slightly gritting his teeth.

Michelle met his eyes. "I'm not."

As soon as Renee confirmed with Larry that there was enough protection around the president, she bolted towards the site of the explosion. With every step, she glanced down at the bodies, praying to every god in existence that she wouldn't recognise them. She didn't know where she should be looking. She didn't even really know what had happened, but what she did know was that she had to find Michelle.

"Renee!" a voice called, and she turned to see Jack. Buchanan was leaning on him, barely conscious. "Where's the medic?"

"They're setting up a triage at the end of the hall."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted another agent who didn't actively look like he was helping anyone, and asked him to escort Jack and Buchanan.

Someone painfully familiar cried for help, and Renee felt her heart stop. She coughed at the billowing smoke and hot air coming from the epicentre of the blast. It looked like it had been a saferoom of some kind, based on the charred electric panel. Renee couldn't see much besides several large pieces of plaster and metal that had crashed from the ceiling.

She turned on her flashlight and gasped when she found Michelle trying to lift a rather heavy-looking chunk from a pile of debris. Michelle's eyes were focused on the small gap between the rock and the floor. She was bleeding from her temple and was covered in ash, but otherwise looked okay. Renee went to hug her without thinking, but then, when Michelle bleated Tony's name helplessly, she realised why she had been screaming.

"Tony's trapped," Michelle said worriedly, looking up at her. "I can't move one piece without the other ones falling on him. I need your help."

Renee nodded, and she could hear Michelle breathe shakily, occasionally muttering incoherent reassurances to Tony, who wasn't responding. Michelle mustered all of her strength to move one piece while Renee held the others in place. His hand twitched a little, and he groaned softly. The more pieces they moved, the more they could see that, luckily, there had been a decent gap between the fallen rubble and Tony's body. Once everything was clear, they very carefully rolled him over after determining that he didn't appear to have any visible broken bones or major injuries. Tony coughed up some dust and jerked a little.

"It's okay… it's okay," Michelle reassured, leaning over Tony and squeezing his hand. "Sweetheart, keep your eyes open, please."

Her heart pulled at that. She wondered if Michelle had even realised she had said the word. Probably not, she was guessing. Then again, Michelle had called her sweetheart earlier as well. Had they both been heat-of-the-moment utterances, or had she meant them? Had she only meant to say it to one of them? Renee shook her head. It wasn't the time. In fact, it was incredibly inappropriate, stupid, and selfish to be thinking about something like this when the two of them had just been in an accident. 

She turned and yelled out for a medic, but as she looked back at the two of them, Tony was sitting up and Michelle was holding him. Michelle was still hyperventilating and now on the verge of tears. As Renee got a better look at Tony, she realised he was actually not as physically injured as they had initially surmised. There was a chance of something like cracked ribs or a concussion, but aside from a few scrapes and bruises, he was fine. However, both of them looked very afraid, and Tony was hushing Michelle, trying to get her to calm down. He was still more injured than she was, but was very aware of how much Michelle needed support right now.

"I almost lost you again," Michelle croaked, letting out a sob.

"I'm here. We're both here. It's okay," he rasped, pausing in the middle of his sentence to cough before kissing her cheek.

Then it hit Renee like a bus. They had just been in an explosion. The last time that happened, they lost their son and were ripped apart from each other. Michelle wasn't overreacting about Tony's injuries now: she was trying not to let her mind go back there, both of them covered in ash and blood, holding each other for dear life. She remembered those early days of protecting her vividly. She remembered how Michelle had rejected help, like she had wanted to feel her heartache all over again to remind herself of it because she deserved it. Michelle had come so far from that place, and Renee was very aware of her part in it. It wasn't that she had some hero complex, like she had seen Michelle as someone to save for her own gain. But the more time they had spent together, even just as friends, the happier she had become, which was why it was so hard to see Michelle so overwhelmed like this.

But it was even harder for Renee to stand by helplessly as Tony comforted her. Their foreheads were pressed together, and Tony was trying to help her breathe more stably. His hands held her fiercely, his lips on her temple. This moment was something very necessary for them, a way to ground themselves. Renee just felt like she was intruding. It wasn't her place to be this person for her, not right now. She should just walk away. Michelle didn't need her here. 

She whipped her head around at the feeling of someone touching her shoulder. Larry. 

"The president wants to talk to the people from the FBI and the CIA who've been working on this. Berenson's on his way from Langley," he informed her, his lips pressing together at the sight of Tony and Michelle. "Should I tell her they need a minute?"

"Yeah," Renee agreed quietly. "I'll come with you and tell her."

Renee stood and walked out towards the hall, resisting the urge to look behind her. Michelle probably hadn't noticed her leave.

"Are you alright?" Larry asked. "I know that probably wasn't easy for you to see."

"I'm fine," she replied shortly, wiping a tear from under her eye. "Let's just go talk to the president."

There was something about sitting in the Oval Office whilst covered in ash and watching the president look between them all with a stern look that reminded Michelle of a group of students in the principal's office. Saul was doing most of the talking and stressed that the president's lack of knowledge about the whole ordeal had been for her protection. In the meantime, Rebecca was running the CIA on Saul's behalf. President Taylor and Ethan Kanin didn't seem impressed by any of this, nor did Taylor's daughter, who kept interjecting only to point out the damage this could do to her mother's credibility, or how unacceptable it was that her mother's life had been in jeopardy because of these people. Kanin cut her off at the slightest opening, emphasising that it wasn't important for her to discuss this now. She gave him an icy glare. It seemed some tension was there.

Michelle's eyes flitted to Tony. He had been checked out, and the medics had said he was very lucky; any more pressure and he could have had internal bleeding. It had taken her a while to get herself together, but, for the most part, she was okay now. Or at the very least, she could hold on until this day was over so she could process it all. She was looking at Renee, too, and it seemed every time she looked at Renee, Renee looked away, like she had been caught doing something she shouldn't be. At least she didn't seem mad at her like before. Almost dying tended to have a way of belittling arguments. Renee was also shivering a little, even though Larry had given her his jacket, and her hair was wet. Michelle made a mental note to ask her what exactly had happened while she had been out.

"So you mean to tell me that there have been corrupt individuals in the FBI, Secret Service, and my cabinet, but nobody thought to tell me?" Taylor said, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Who knows what kind of classified information I could have passed on to them?"

Saul shook his head. "Madam President, we had to be certain of their identities before we took action."

"I still should have known."

"With all due respect, Madam President," Michelle started, clearing her throat as all eyes fell on her. She had already had to ask for things to be repeated a few times, and for everyone to speak louder, no matter how hoarse their voices might be, and try not to talk over each other, because with her existing hearing loss and now the unsettling tinnitus, it was a struggle to keep up. "The president who did know about the conspiracy was assassinated."

It took her a second to click who she was referring to. "You… you mean to say there are people in the White House who took out David Palmer?"

"And others, including his brother," Saul added.

Although the president had been kept in the dark, she somehow seemed to have enough intuition and knowledge of what had happened to put the pieces together.

"So you were being protected quite heavily, then, Agent Dessler," she said. "Since you were apparently the only agent on this case, that's why most of us, myself included, knew very little about it."

Michelle nodded. "Yes, that's correct, Madam President."

She then looked at Tony. "Protected to the point where you, her husband, had no idea until very recently?"

He confirmed her suspicion.

"My God…" The president muttered. "What are you doing to identify the remaining moles?"

"The CIA and the FBI will work together," Jack answered. "There are also two ex-CTU agents who have, unbeknownst to us, been investigating the same conspiracy. One of them is Chloe O'Brian. The other is Bill Buchanan, who was also taken hostage tonight and is currently recovering from his injuries."

She nodded. "Does he have a family?"

"Yes, Madam President. A wife," Tony answered. Michelle hadn't known that. She was glad to hear Bill had found someone; she and Bill might never have gotten very far in that sense, but he had always been a good boss and friend.

"Agent Pierce, please see to some security detail around Mister Buchanan and his wife. They could be at risk," The president ordered.

Pierce excused himself immediately.

Taylor clasped her hands together, looking deeply troubled despite their assurance that they were working to find the people responsible for the attack. "Do you have any leads at this point?"

"Ryan Burnett, Madam President," Jack answered. "Whom I was trying to interrogate before I was arrested," he clarified with a slight bristle. "He was aware of the attack on the White House this evening, so I'm sure he would likely know details about, God forbid, any further attack plans."

She bit her lip. "I see."

"If you are suggesting any form of enhanced interrogation, need I remind you there was an entire senate hearing this morning condemning the Counter Terrorist Unit's use of this exact tactic," Olivia pointed out. "I will not allow this to happen under my mother's administration."

"Livy…" Taylor said in a warning tone.

"Actually," Saul started, and Michelle had to stop herself from laughing at the fact that he was actively suppressing a grin, "the hearing was, for the most part, a method used by the CIA to bring Jack Bauer in. Senator Mayer is working with us. He'll release a full statement later that withdraws everything and announces the restructure of CTU."

Jack looked genuinely grateful for this, and she was glad to see it. Tony seemed to approve of it, too.

The president's daughter looked furious and stormed out of the room. 

"Madam President, I also have another lead," Tony then said after a pause, causing Michelle's eyebrows to raise. God, more secrets? "I have intel that Starkwood has a WMD, a bioweapon. There's a cabal made up of executives of private military companies that intends to use it on American soil."

Michelle gaped at him and then looked at Saul. "We had circumstantial evidence about Jonas Hodges and that he might be working with others, but nothing like this."

"How did you get the intel, Tony?" Saul asked.

"It took a long time. I tried getting closer to one of the cabal members and convincing them I was on their side, but then, between learning about the CIP device and finding out Michelle was alive, I had to prioritise. I didn't know the total order of operations today, but I knew the CIP device had to be dealt with first."

Jack furrowed his brow. "Were Bill and Chloe looking into this as well?'

He shook his head. "I've been looking into this as soon as I woke up in David's compound. But only today have I learned that everything is connected. The plan was to bombard the government with one attack after another until they were reeling, and have no choice but to depend on these private military companies for support from terrorist attacks that they're funding."

The president was also, once again, in total disbelief. Michelle was, too. It was like the CIA had had a puzzle they had been solving for years, and Tony had suddenly shown up with a bag of missing pieces. These incidents had seemed so isolated, but every group hadn't had enough motive for it to make total sense. But if the aim had been to debilitate the US government and make them unable to trust or depend on their usual resources, then several mass-scale attacks in succession were the way to do it.

"Jesus Christ," Larry muttered. "How the hell has the FBI not been aware of any of this?" He then looked at Saul, and at her, with annoyance. "Probably doesn't help that the CIA gave the FBI barely anything to work with because you were trying to flush out traitors without telling us."

"And I put Michelle at great risk to do that. She never should have been so exposed, but we had agreed it was the only way to make the moles reveal themselves," Saul defended.

Renee looked at her with pressed lips, and Michelle hoped there was some more understanding between them now.

"Tony, do you know if the WMD is onsite at Starkwood?" Jack asked, preventing Saul and Larry from further bickering.

Tony nodded. "I'm pretty sure it's being delivered tonight. But I don't have proof to connect it to Starkwood. At least, not enough for a search warrant."

"And since Starkwood is private, we can't do anything without one," Renee concluded.

Saul and Larry looked at the president expectantly.

"I can't possibly authorise this," she said, looking deeply tormented. "But if we sit here and do nothing, that bioweapon could get into the hands of the wrong people very quickly."

"All we need is something, even if it's small," Jack concluded. "If we can intercept the shipment or get something from Burnett and make even the slightest link between the weapon and Starkwood, then that'll be enough. We could get the CDC to verify the contents, if it's biological. But for now, Madam President, we need to keep you in the dark for your protection."

"Alright. As soon as you have proof, I will give you whatever resources you need to invade Starkwood and shut those bastards down," Taylor affirmed.

"Wait, there's one thing I don't understand, Tony," Michelle said before they could get ready to leave. "If you were working for Emerson, why look into the conspiracy?"

He met her eyes very solemnly. It was the first time she had looked at him today and truly seen him as the man she had fallen in love with. "Because they were also involved with the Sentox."

"Sentox?" Taylor said, astonished. "Meaning…"

"They're the ones who put the bomb in my car," Michelle finished, her voice heavy with understanding, her heart aching at the thought of Tony's only motivation being to avenge her and their child. "It didn't stop with the CIP device and Sangala. Starkwood and this cabal had their own agenda, and the CIA wasn't even close to figuring it out. You found the people I've been trying to hunt down all this time."

In a way, Michelle felt like she had been humiliated, that she and Tony had effectively been digging the same tunnel from opposite ends. She had worked so hard, kept herself so isolated, but she hadn't even been entirely successful. If they had done this together, if she had been upfront from the beginning, even if that bomb had still gone off in her car, they could have worked hard to get justice as a team.

She thought she might break down again, but shook her head as she remembered everything that had happened today, and everything that could still happen if they didn't stop this. It had been impossible to think about that after the C4 went off earlier, and those emotions were still sitting just beneath the surface. Really, they had been ever since she had found out he was alive. And with Renee here, too, it was only making her heart more conflicted. All she had done today was worry about their safety. But it wasn't the time to overanalyse her relationships, past and present. They still needed to get through today, and they still needed to get through today alive.

Michelle could barely eat. Her hands were shaking too much, and she was quite convinced whatever did manage to get into her stomach would come back up again soon enough. Renee clearly knew something was up with her, but said nothing as they ate and then started cleaning up. Michelle kept looking over at her, capturing little snapshots in her mind because she didn't see any possible outcome other than Renee despising her after she broke the news. Michelle had already cried in the car today, but knew there would be plenty more tears to come. She ultimately knew what she had to do for the sake of the case, but it was going to hurt badly for both of them.

"Can we talk?" Michelle asked, putting the last dish in the rack.

"About?"

She sighed, leaning against the bench, noticing that Renee was looking at her with worry. "About us."

Renee reacted very much to the tone of her voice. "Michelle, what's wrong?"

"I've been given a new assignment today." God, she wanted nothing more than to explain it all, start to finish. She trusted her. But she just couldn't trust the people around her. "I'm going to be liaising between the CIA and the FBI. In two weeks, I'll be working out of FBI headquarters."

Her eyebrows rose. "That's… that's a good thing, isn't it?" she said warily, still not understanding her.

"It would be, in theory. But the reason this is happening is that the FBI is being brought in on my investigation."

She didn't need to elaborate there. While Renee didn't know the details and wasn't the kind to pry, she knew that her case had brought her nothing but turmoil.

"I've seen the list of agents from the FBI who'll be working on it. You're one of them."

Renee looked at her with confusion. "What, you don't think I deserve to be on it? You don't think I'm ready?"

Michelle was quick to shake her head. "No, of course you do. You're one of the most capable, hard-working agents I've ever met. It's just…"

"Just what?" She folded her arms.

She exhaled. "It's dangerous."

"I work at the FBI, Michelle," Renee said half-jokingly.

"N-No, you don't understand." Michelle couldn't even bear to meet her eye as she continued to protest pathetically. "There's a reason so few people are on this case: anyone who does becomes targeted, big time."

Renee still didn't seem to buy it. Michelle was being very vague. FBI training aside, anyone would know she wasn't telling the whole truth. They had had this conversation before, back in the early days of them dating, when Renee had profoundly stated that she would protect her with everything she had, no matter what came their way. But it was more complicated than she realised.

Renee lowered her voice, stepping closer and searching her eyes. "Are you being threatened?" She grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at her. "Michelle, if something's going on–"

Michelle shook her head assuredly. Oh, how she wished things could be that simple. If someone was really forcing her hand, then Renee could save her, but even Saul hadn't had to tell her to do this. Michelle just knew it was going to get messy because what the CIA would tell the FBI about the case and what the case was actually about were two very different things. It was going to hurt Renee and send her ideals crashing down. The least Michelle could do was be in control of it. Most of all, Michelle couldn't lie to her, not like this. Lying to her as a colleague was one thing, but she couldn't betray her trust, wouldn't betray her trust, as her partner.

"No. It's just– I'm terrified of you being so close to this," Michelle explained. "I fall in love with you more and more every day, and that's what scares me because I haven't felt this way since Tony, and I don't want to lose anybody else." 

She gave her a bewildered look. "You're worried about the past repeating itself because we'll be in the same office now?"

"Yes. We nearly lost each other more than once because of work. I can't have that happen again. I can't lose you."

"Well, all the more reason I'm on this case so we can solve things once and for all, and you won't have to worry about this any more."

"It's also the fact that we'd have to disclose our relationship formally, and that can make things complicated. I don't want this to affect your career."

Renee huffed. "Michelle, I couldn't give a rat's ass if anybody says anything about that. Larry would understand."

Michelle knew Renee was just going to keep refuting her arguments left, right, and centre. She was fighting for them, but Michelle couldn't let her win. Michelle couldn't let Renee convince her it wasn't going to be so bad because she had no idea what this was really about, and wouldn't know until it was over.

"I love you. I care about you." Her voice wavered. "But I don't see another way we can do this."

"Do what?" Renee asked warily.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I think we should go on a break."

"What?" Renee had a stunned and betrayed look, her mouth slightly agape. It obviously was the last thing she had expected to hear. 

"Just until this case is over," Michelle amended, but she had already driven the knife into her chest.

"Michelle, we've been together for nearly three years. You can't throw that away now because you're afraid. We've worked through this," Renee pointed out. "And besides, we don't even know how long this case will go on for. You want to put your life, our life, on hold out of fear?"

Michelle went to speak, but not before Renee could say, "You are the most incredible person I've ever met. You make me feel alive. You understand me. I have never loved anyone the way I love you." Her expression fell, as though struck with panic. "Don't… don't you feel the same way?"

"I do," Michelle said thickly. "I swear to you, I do. And that's why I have to keep you safe."

"I can protect myself," Renee stated emphatically, before lifting her shirt and grabbing Michelle's hand so it was touching the scar. Just looking at it always made Michelle emotional, so to touch it like that was even more confronting. "This is proof that I would give my life for you. If I had to make that choice a thousand times over, I would take the bullet for you every single time because that's how much you mean to me." She dropped Michelle's hand, and at this proximity, she could see her cheek was twitching. "Don't you get it? I'm not running away because of the people after you. If I wanted to do that, I wouldn't have stayed on as your security detail after I got shot. I wouldn't have checked in on you. I wouldn't have even stayed friends with you, let alone…"

Renee stepped away and went to her bag. When she came back to where Michelle was standing, she placed a small, velvet box in her hand. Michelle placed her hand over her mouth as she opened it and found the emerald engagement ring inside. God, what had she done? A small voice in Michelle's mind told her this was her punishment for getting involved with someone while working on such a big and dangerous case, but she quickly shut it up. Michelle wasn't going to let anyone, not even herself, make her regret her relationship with Renee. Her fingers were shaking. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. She was supposed to be crying with tears of joy, hugging Renee and telling her yes a million times over, not on the verge of screaming because she was breaking Renee's heart and being so horrible to her after Renee had given her nothing but kindness and happiness.

"Do you understand now, Michelle?" Renee said thinly. "I'm not leaving. I'm not giving up on us."

Michelle thumbed her cheek and pulled her in for a hug, not saying anything, but wanting her to communicate that she understood and appreciated that so much.

"I… I'm not giving up, either. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I do, I swear," Michelle begged. "But right now, we both need to have our heads screwed on straight because this case could cost us everything. We just need to put things on pause. Can we do that?"

Renee squeezed her back. "For how long?"

She took a shuddering breath, finally meeting her gaze. "For as long as I need to get over the fact that losing you is a risk I'll have to take."

Despite the somewhat more content tone Renee had had, clearly, this was not going to go away, because she pulled away from her, furiously wiping tears under her eyes. Renee wouldn't look at her. Earlier, Renee had intended for her to stay over, but Michelle was sure she would want to rescind that offer now.

"I'll go back to my place," Michelle suggested. "I… I get you don't want me here, and that's fine, so I'll just..." She let out a breath, realising that Renee wasn't fighting for her to stay or even willing to keep talking about it. "I'll go."

Michelle grabbed her bag shakily, her knees wobbling like they were going to give out. Renee didn't move. As she got to the door, she paused, turning to look at Renee's back one more time. "I love you," she said with as much emphasis as she could, despite now fighting to keep her composure.

Renee scoffed and revealed her face, stained with the tears she had let out silently. "Get out," she demanded brokenly.

Michelle supposed she deserved that, so she glumly walked out and shut the door behind her. A pang struck her chest as she heard Renee let out a sob. Michelle was grateful the drive from Renee's place to hers was a short one because it was a struggle not to let tears blur her vision. Just as Renee had managed to keep her heartbreak silent until she was alone, it was only when Michelle closed her front door that she sank against it and burst into tears. She was an idiot. She had been an idiot to believe this case wouldn't eventually tear them apart. Renee was so good to her. She had fought for her through everything. But now, Michelle feared that there was no coming back from this. She wasn't sure why she had ever thought Renee would be okay with this. Somehow, she had naively believed Renee would understand her reasoning and agree to put things on hold, but how could she when she didn't even have all the information? There was no better way to have approached this without putting Renee or the case at risk. Michelle knew that. But it didn't stop her from feeling so horrible.

When Michelle had her first day at the FBI, a few weeks later, she expected some form of karmic treatment, for Renee to look at her with cold bitterness in her eyes, the way she had looked at Tony the day they had both found themselves at CTU the day of Habib Marwan's attacks. She wouldn't have blamed her for treating her like that. But instead, when she caught a glimpse of her, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, poorly concealed by makeup. It was like she had done nothing but cry since the night of their breakup, and that just hurt more. After all, Michelle had very much done the same.

Michelle soon realised that the tension between them could pose a problem and risk someone at the FBI pointing out a conflict of interest and shuffling personnel around, which she didn't want. So, she waited for a moment where she could catch Renee alone. She was in the staff kitchen making coffee when Michelle quietly came towards her, checking they were alone, and resisting the habitual urge to put a hand on her shoulder or her waist. Renee didn't acknowledge her.

"I need to talk to you," Michelle said, before clarifying, "about the case."

There was a pause before Renee mumbled, "Fine."

"We're not going to be able to work together if we can't even look each other in the eye," Michelle started, her voice quiet. "And that's a problem for everyone. We need to be cohesive on this. The fact that we know each other so well means that we can cooperate effectively here. And the more productive we are, the sooner this case is over. I need you, Renee, as an agent. So, for the sake of this investigation, can we at least try to get along? Please?"

Renee was silent and still wouldn't look at her.

"Look, I know you hate me right now–"

"I don't hate you," Renee said, her voice hoarse as she cut her off. "I'm angry at you. You broke my heart. But I don't hate you." She sighed, finally meeting her gaze. "Give me some time, but you're right, we shouldn't let this stop us from working well together. It's… it's the opposite of what you wanted from this, right? You did this so we wouldn't have a conflict of interest, so let's not let that happen."

Michelle nodded. "Thank you."

It took everything in Michelle not to say that she loved her, but she apparently didn't need to worry about that slipping out because Renee just walked away, abandoning her just as she had in return.

Now united and assured that there were no more traitors in their midst, the FBI and CIA were coordinating this mission together. One team would head to the Port of Alexandria, where Tony believed the bioweapon would be delivered, while another would lie in wait on the perimeter of Starkwood, ready to move in once they confirmed the shipment was linked to them. Tony would be talking directly with the president, his intel making him more suited to run point and communicate to both teams.

Renee was part of the first team, and Michelle was part of the second. Larry and Saul had been wise to do that. Questions had been raised about whether Michelle should be showing her face at a place like Starkwood, knowing some of the conspirators who wanted her dead were on site. But she had pointed out that with everything that had happened today, her cover identity was hardly intact anymore, so it didn't matter, more than that, that she needed to be on the ground, and nobody had argued with that. Even then, it wouldn't stop Renee — and probably Tony — from worrying immensely about her. God, what a mess this day was. It just kept getting worse and worse. The CIP device and White House siege had both been gruelling enough to deal with, but now this was even more concerning, especially since they had very little intel. They were relying entirely on Tony's intel. Even after interrogating Burnett — with permission, this time — Jack still hadn't gotten much other than a confirmation of some of Tony's claims. Although the CDC had plenty of established protocols, they didn't know what kind of bioweapon they were dealing with here, so they couldn't prepare very specifically. 

Renee was exhausted. Even without her various injuries, she still would have been running on sheer adrenaline at this point. She didn't know who or what to believe anymore; however, she supposed she had no choice but to go along with it. Although she still didn't know how to feel about the FBI's integrity basically being insulted in front of the president, she recognised this threat was real, that was for sure. And while Renee still certainly wasn't the biggest fan of Tony, she was willing to trust him now more than ever since he had been mostly right about the attacks so far today.

She watched as Michelle put her Kevlar vest on at her locker. Michelle had showered to get some of the ash off her and had had her head wound stitched. It was just the two of them. Renee tried to gauge whether she was still upset, but couldn't tell from afar. She wanted to tell Michelle that she forgave her and that she understood the choices she had made. But she couldn't start such a loaded discussion now. There was no time. It would mess with her focus, too. At the same time… who knew what would happen next? She didn't want to think about the likelihood that one or both of them wouldn't make it back, but in this line of work, it couldn't be ignored.

Renee slowly walked towards Michelle, who looked up, her face expressionless, before looking back down to close the locker. She stood directly in Michelle's path out of the locker room and back to the bullpen. Michelle met her eyes, and, without thinking, Renee kissed her, hard, backing her against the locker door. Michelle kissed her back like she was desperate for oxygen, her body trembling from being so overwhelmed. It brought back all the sparks she had buried deep within herself and tried to forget. The whole day's worth of emotions and the pain from the breakup caught up with her, and she felt like she had to hold onto every second because life was so precious. She loved her. God, she hadn't stopped loving her. And based on Michelle kissing her back so passionately, Renee could only pray that she felt the same way. It wasn't some attempt to make her forget about Tony. It wasn't about trying to compete. She just needed to tell Michelle that she was there for her.

But even though she wasn't using her words, this was still a distraction. Michelle probably already had this on her mind, and now Renee was complicating it further. She couldn't do this to her. Not now. 

When they parted, a tear rolled down Michelle's cheek, and Renee brushed it with her thumb, tenderly touching the scar there.

"I didn't get to do that before you left for the White House," Renee said, her voice wavering.

Michelle opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't find the words, and Renee started to walk away. 

"Renee..." Michelle then called, making Renee stop in her tracks. "Be careful."

Renee turned her head to look at her with a nod and a small smile. "You, too."

While everybody had expected the shipment to be heavily guarded, the number of hostiles and their adroitness made Jack fear just how many people, how many powerful people, were behind this conspiracy. One particular assassin had come very close to killing him, but by sheer fluke, he had gotten him, and now he was driving the truck with the bioweapon back out of the gate. Renee was leading the team and taking out the remaining hostiles.

Jack had to be careful that he didn't hit any FBI agents as he drove out, but also that he didn't let the van take any hits from the ongoing gunfire. If even one bullet made it into the truck, they would risk leaking the bioweapon into the air around them. They didn't know how potent it was yet. It would risk spreading to the FBI agents in the vicinity, and possibly further into the general population. Of course, being the driver of the truck, Jack was also aware that if it leaked, he would be exposed first. Even if he held his breath, it could contaminate him through his skin. They had to assume the worst about the bioweapon until further notice.

Just as he thought he had made it out far enough towards the van sent by the CDC, his phone started to buzz. He quickly put it to his ear.

"Jack, get out of there. A bullet went through the back of the truck," Renee informed him urgently.

Jack quickly but safely pulled the truck to a stop and got out as fast as he could, allowing the CDC to quickly set up a perimeter. His heart started to race as he tried to remember whether there was a seal between the trailer and the cab. If there hadn't been one, how long had it taken from Renee telling him he needed to get out, his mind registering that he needed to get out, to actually getting out? Would they be able to find a treatment? Not just for his sake, but in case any other containers of the pathogen in Starkwood's hands ended up being deployed. What would the effects be? Was he contagious already?

"Agent Bauer?" someone asked, and as he turned, he recognised the woman in the hazmat suit as Doctor Macer. He hadn't seen her in many years.

"I need to take a sample in case you were exposed. Our team has sealed the leak and detected that a minimal quantity escaped the canister. There's a chance that residue could have been inside the truck regardless."

He nodded, following her to the van where a mobile lab had been set up. "How contagious is it?"

"We don't know yet, but we've taken samples, and we should know everything we need within the hour, including whether you were exposed," she explained. "But we'll expedite the test that at least confirms it is a weaponised pathogen and deliver this to the CIA and FBI as ordered."

The doctor there took a blood sample and a cheek swab. He was told to isolate from the others until they knew for sure. Jack realised that meant up to an hour alone with his thoughts, something he tried to avoid at all costs. He wondered if this was how Michelle felt all those years ago in the hotel. Waiting and wondering without a single clue, feeling useless all the while. They were already so behind and had so little intel. After all that effort, Burnett hadn't known much. Tony had given them everything he had, and he seemed angry with himself for not looking into the issue further. But Jack could understand why Tony had had to prioritise, and ultimately, he had made the right call. It was frustrating to think that Bill could have helped him with this, too, but Jack was also quite glad he was still alive and would recover. If Tony and Michelle had detonated the C4 a second too late, Bill would have been at the centre of the blast.

For now, they could get the go-ahead to infiltrate Starkwood. But even with all hands on deck from the FBI and CIA, with the billions of dollars and equipment and armed mercenaries that Starkwood had, on their turf, they had the upper hand. So all Jack could do was sit in the back of the van as it drove to the FBI and pray that if anybody was going to go down, it wouldn't be the people he cared about.

Never put all your eggs in one basket was a metaphor that was becoming more and more relevant for Larry. The grounds for their search were shaky enough. The CDC might have confirmed the Starkwood shipment contained a weaponised pathogen, but that didn't necessarily mean — from a legal stance, at least — that Starkwood had any more onsite. Then, an executive of Starkwood close to Hodges, Greg Seaton, had privately called Almeida, claiming to have intel on where the weapons were stored and insisting on the FBI offering him protection and full immunity. He claimed he knew of Almeida through Emerson because of the CIP device and Dubaku. The president had signed the deal, since Starkwood was such a large place that it was best if they were efficient in their search. The urgency was what made all of this so daunting. Obviously, being the director of the FBI, Larry knew about urgency, but the way this was all happening really didn't have a lot of contingency or direction. They were just blindly trusting and following Seaton. Sure, he claimed that Hodges was a madman. However, Larry had learned today that insanity really was a spectrum, from people like Bauer, who ultimately still wanted to do the right thing and just had obscene methods, all the way to people like Hodges, who somehow believed he wanted to do the right thing even when he was knowingly killing innocent Americans. Almeida's position on that spectrum was yet to be decided.

Larry followed Seaton into the warehouse, Michelle right by his side, just as wary as he was. Although Seaton seemed to be acting secretive, like someone would if they were betraying the multi-billion-dollar private military company they worked for, he still couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. He had felt this way all day, if he was being honest. He didn't like not having control when it came to running the FBI, and he'd had to relinquish it to the CIA, Bauer, and Almeida. To top it off, with their constant disappearing acts, Larry had barely had the chance to tell them that he didn't like it. But what was he to do when the country was in crisis and these people were the only ones who had the intel?

Or not.

As they came inside, he observed that the room was barren. There was nothing hidden under a sheet. There were no blueprints. No doors. No sign at all of a bioweapon. 

Michelle looked at him wide-eyed.

"Almeida," Larry whispered harshly into his comm. "The warehouse is empty."

"What?" he replied, sounding genuinely surprised, which negated any doubts Larry had that Almeida was double-crossing them. "The fuck do you mean it's empty?"

"Empty as in empty. The bioweapon isn't here. It means either Seaton's intel is wrong or he's playing you," he uttered. "You've got about five seconds to figure it out."

Judging by the smug look on Seaton's face, Larry concluded it was the former. 

"You son of a bitch," Larry growled. "Tell me where the damn weapons are now!"

He said nothing, and Larry decided not to waste his time. Michelle wasn't hiding her anger any more, either, ordering two FBI agents to restrain Seaton.

"Larry, the weapons have to be inside Starkwood," Almeida urged, and Michelle nodded in agreement. "They're there somewhere. Tell your men to keep looking."

"Stand by," Larry said, switching off his comm. "All right, everyone outside now." 

The agents filed out of there promptly, and Michelle walked in lockstep with him, her eyes flitting back to Seaton in case he tried to pull anything.

"I don't like this," she muttered. "Even if we'd sent both agencies, we'd still be outnumbered. Hodges probably knows we're here, and now Seaton has us right where he wants us."

"I know," Larry said quietly, as they waited for everyone to clear out. "All right, listen up," he called, trying to maintain his confidence for the sake of the team. He could see that most of them looked nervous. Michelle had her gun out. "We're going to do a point-by-point search of this entire compound. I want four teams sweeping every structure on this property."

He whipped his head around at the piercing sound of squealing tyres and revving engines. The LED headlights from the rovers blinded him as they neared, along with far more tanks than he was comfortable with — frankly, outside of war-zones, he wasn't comfortable with any tanks.

Michelle cursed under her breath. The agents immediately formed a defensive barricade, Michelle included, but she stayed closer to Larry.

"Hold your fire! Hold your fire," Larry directed loudly, praying everyone could hear him, as even more vehicles and mercenaries approached them. One gunshot could start a riot, and they would be obliterated. "Hold your fire. Stay in position."

"Agent Moss, stand down," Berenson said through his comm.

It was hard to hear her behind him now, but Michelle's rebuttal was loud and clear in his ear, "Saul, they just drew on federal forces–"

"These people are not fucking around," Berenson pointed out. "If you don't want to lose your men, you'll get them to stand down. Now."

Larry once again asked everyone to hold their fire as a man in full body armour stepped out of one of the tanks with the same arrogance as Seaton, clearly stating, "That's far enough."  The man then walked closer, and Larry was very concerned by the potential weapons in his arsenal — and by weapons, he meant all of Starkwood. "We cooperated with your demand to search this building. Now, we're asking you to leave."

"There are biological weapons in this facility," Michelle insisted. "We're not going anywhere without them. Now tell your man to stand down."

"Those charges are absurd, and we're not going to let you keep searching," he replied coolly. "You're on private property, and we're prepared to defend it if necessary."
 
Larry hardened his voice. "You are threatening federal agents. Stand down. Now!" 

"We're protecting our rights against a hostile government that's using false charges to try to shut us down. Now, we don't want any bloodshed. But if you try to advance any farther, you will be fired upon."

Michelle looked at him with worry. If they complied with Starkwood, it would make the government look like an easily pliable joke, but if they didn't, they could lose everybody. What were they supposed to do?

As the last few agents exited the boardroom, Renee watched Michelle appear at the doorway. She looked confused by the room being empty. But Renee and Larry had agreed that it wouldn't be right to give her the news in front of everyone.

"What's going on?" Michelle asked. "I thought the meeting was at eleven."

Larry sighed, his face full of concern. "Just sit down, Michelle."

Michelle looked between them worriedly before taking a seat at the table's head in front of the closed laptop. She and Larry were on the two adjacent chairs.

"You know how we've been looking into David Emerson as a connection to Juma?" Renee started.

"Yeah, what about him?"

"We found security camera footage of one of his associates that proves he's in the DC area," Larry answered.

"That's… that's great, then. Isn't that what we've been looking for?" Michelle said, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Renee bit the inside of her lip, resisting the urge to place her hand on Michelle's shoulder. Even all these months later, they were still trying to figure out boundaries now that they were meant to be just friends. It made this whole thing so much harder. She knew when Michelle opened the laptop in front of her, she was going to be absolutely blindsided, and she desperately wanted to be there for her in any way she could. But she didn't want to take advantage of Michelle's vulnerability. And, frankly, she still hadn't gotten over the hurt from Michelle breaking things off with her the way she had.

"It is. It's just… the associate is going to be a little familiar to you."

Michelle furrowed her brow. Whoever she was thinking of, Renee knew she was wrong.

"I… I don't understand. Why are you both acting like this is a huge deal?"

Both of them went to speak, but neither of them felt like they could. Larry looked at Renee in a way that silently communicated that she should be the one to tell Michelle. But as Renee opened her mouth, the words died in her throat.

"You're scaring me. Tell me what's going on," Michelle demanded nervously.

"Just open the laptop, Michelle," Larry said softly.

Michelle's fingers trembled as she did so. Renee watched Michelle gape in the reflection of the screen. She remembered how shocked she had been when Janis had found it, the sinking feeling in her gut when she had privately brought Larry around to show him. They hadn't even been able to celebrate that the lead was the most promising one they had had since the FBI had been brought in on the case, because both of them had immediately thought about how much this would impact Michelle and make her question everything she thought she knew.

Michelle zoomed in on the photo of Tony Almeida, shaking her head. "This… this can't be right. This isn't real."

When she looked up, Renee met her eyes solemnly. "It is, Michelle."

"No," Michelle insisted. "This has to be fabricated. They told me that he died from the injection. I saw the autopsy. This isn't right."

"We had his grave exhumed, Michelle–"

Her eyes widened with horror. "You dug up my husband's grave?!"

"The body in there doesn't match Tony's DNA. It's not him," Larry explained. "I'm sorry, Michelle."

She seemed completely paralysed by disbelief, trying her hardest to think of a plausible explanation, trying to refute their claims, but her eyes remained fixed on Tony.

"Do…" Michelle took a breath. "Do we know where he is now?"

Renee shrugged. "We're looking for intel on where Emerson might be hiding out, but it would be safe to assume that Tony's with him."

"H-He would never do this. He would never work for someone like Emerson."

"It's hard to believe, but until we find out more, we have to operate under the assumption that he's armed and dangerous," Larry said.

Michelle scoffed, her bottom lip wobbling as she got up from the chair and walked out of the room, back to her office, shutting the door loudly. 

Renee looked at Larry, and then at the open door. They decided there was nothing else they could do, so they resumed their work. Renee tried her best not to let her anxiety about Michelle distract her too much. They didn't see each other for the rest of the day, even at lunch when they usually both ended up in the staff kitchen together.

While Renee wasn't rostered on for the night shift, she got caught up on a trail of evidence she had been following, and stayed a few hours longer than intended. When she walked out into the bullpen carrying her bag, it was dark and quiet. Most of the skeleton staff were working where the servers were. But she noticed light shining into the hallway from Michelle's office. As Renee walked towards it, she heard clicking heels, meaning that Michelle was still inside.

Renee knocked. She didn't hear a response, but was somewhat certain Michelle was muttering something quietly.

"I'm… I'm coming in, Michelle," she said.

When she opened the door, there were papers everywhere, far from the organised state Michelle usually kept things in. Her laptop and monitors showed things related to David Emerson, with one screen showing the same image of Tony from before. Had she been doing this all day?

Michelle glanced at her, not upset, thankfully, but slightly frenzied. "I-I have to find him. I have to tell him that he can stop doing what he's doing because he doesn't need to. He thinks I'm dead." She smiled a little in a way that deeply concerned Renee. "He's going to be so happy when he finds out that I'm alive, and then everything's going to be okay."

"Michelle…" Renee whispered, covering her hand on the mouse with her own.

Michelle paused what she was doing and sniffled, pivoting to rest her head against Renee's chest. Renee wrapped her arms around her, feeling her breathe heavily. She wasn't quite crying yet, but Renee gathered that, by this point, the shock had worn off and the pain of Tony's apparent actions was hitting her now. Renee couldn't bear the thought of her being alone tonight. 

"You're coming home with me, alright?" Renee murmured.

Michelle nodded against her, squeezing her tighter. She moved away only to shut down her computer, and Renee helped her to lock up the office before they walked down to the parking garage together. Michelle said nothing on the ride home, simply staring out the window blankly.  When they had still been together, they had often carpooled when going out. Renee could think of so many drives like this one. She thought about how many times she had rested her hand on Michelle's knee while she drove, how they used to talk about anything and everything in this car, how many times they had said I love you in this car, how many times they had acted on those I love yous in this car. They had never sat in silence like this.

Renee turned the lights on in her house, letting Michelle come in first. She looked as though the entire day's emotions and work were weighing her down.

"You can take the first shower. My pyjamas are in the same drawer as usual, take whatever you want to wear."

Michelle nodded.

"And you can have the bed, I'll sleep on the fold-out."

It felt strange saying that. Even before getting together, it hadn't been uncommon for them to fall asleep on the couch together watching TV, let alone in bed when they had been together.

Michelle thanked her quietly before moving to the ensuite. Renee listened to the water run as she set up the fold-out couch.

By the time she finished, Michelle was getting into bed.

"Don't wait up for me, okay?" Renee said. "You need to sleep."

Michelle didn't say anything to that, and Renee hoped she was already dozing off.

After Renee got out of the shower, her phone buzzed on the bench. It was Larry.

"Hey, I just wanted to check in. Johnson said you and Michelle went home together."

"Yeah," Renee confirmed quietly. "She's at my place."

"I thought you guys broke up."

She sighed. "We did. I just– I didn't want her to be alone tonight."

"How is she?" he asked.

Renee made a so-so motion with her head. "Tired. Overwhelmed. It was a lot to take in. She's barely said a word."

There was a pause before Larry softened his voice, saying, "Don't worry about being here early tomorrow. Just stay with her and make sure she's alright. Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks, Larry," Renee said appreciatively.

After hanging up, she walked out of the bathroom. Michelle was sitting against the headboard with her knees to her chest. 

"Hey…" Renee said softly, walking over.

When she sat on the edge of the bed, she noticed the despair in Michelle's eyes. There was a pause, then Michelle burst into tears. Renee was quick to take her in her arms, telling her that it was okay, and hushing her. It had been a long time since she had seen Michelle cry like this. She was so lost, so despondent, so terrified of what the future held now that she had learned Tony was alive, and ostensibly working for a mercenary no less. But it wasn't just about that. It was about all those years of mourning and blaming herself for his death.

Michelle's fingernails dug into her shoulders, and Renee shifted so she was on the opposite side of the bed. As they got under the covers, Michelle curled up against her. She continued to weep, and Renee pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her tightly.

"Why would he do this?" Michelle croaked.

"I-I don't know, but we're going to find out, okay? I promise."

Renee spent the rest of the night holding her, willing her to just try to sleep. Michelle clung to her like she was the only thing she could rely on, the only stable thing left in her life, and Renee did all she could to make sure she knew that she was there for her, that she could always trust her, that she would never lie to her or betray her. It took several hours before Michelle finally cried herself to sleep, and only then did Renee allow her eyes to shut. 

They woke to the sound of Renee's alarm clock. As Michelle grumbled sleepily, Renee reached back with her hand, aimlessly slamming her hand down until the beeping ceased. She batted her eyes open and found herself in the same position she had fallen asleep in. Their legs were intertwined. Michelle's arm was draped over her waist. Their faces were inches away from each other. Michelle tilted her head up, revealing her red-rimmed eyes. 

They stared at each other for a moment. She wasn't sure who leaned in first, but neither resisted when their lips met softly. The kiss was gentle but made every feeling she had buried deep since that heartbreaking night rise to the surface. And judging by the way Michelle moved her hand to cup her cheek, she could tell she felt the same. 

Michelle's other hand slid under her t-shirt, and while it felt wonderfully familiar, Renee also knew that this wasn't something she was doing rationally: it was something she was doing out of need, out of wanting to fill the gaping hole in her heart that Tony's sudden reappearance had carved out. She had watched Michelle slowly heal over many years, slowly find a way to forgive herself for the turmoil that had resulted from her decision to work for the CIA. So watching her crumble like this made her feel an intense fondness for her, a desire to protect her and support her.

Renee pulled back ever so slightly and saw disappointment on Michelle's face. 

"I-I'm sorry–"

"Don't be. Look... I love you. I– I haven't stopped," Renee admitted, thumbing under her eye. "But we can't do this. Not... not now."

Michelle nodded. "I know," she whispered. "And I love you, too, and you're right. I know what I said was for a reason, and I don't want to go back on it. I don't want to use you like this."

She tucked a hair behind Michelle's ear. "You're not using me. Once this case is over, we're going to talk about us, okay? This isn't giving up, this is just putting things on hold, like you said."

The question of the state of Tony and Michelle's relationship once they got to the bottom of this remained unasked.

Michelle glanced past her at the clock, but Renee shook her head, tilting her head back towards her. "Larry said we can take whatever time we need. He's alright with us getting there a little late this morning."

Michelle sighed. "Sounds good to me. Can we just lie here for a while and have breakfast later?"

"Sure…" Renee cocked a brow. "As long as you're not making it."

That elicited a snort from Michelle, despite the brightness of her eyes. Seeing that flicker of happiness reminded Renee of just how resilient Michelle was and just how far she had come. More than anything, it made Renee believe that they were going to get through this.

After what felt like forever, Sunny opened the door to the quarantine zone, and judging by Jack's initial assessment of her facial expression, perhaps he had gotten lucky after all. To feel optimistic was incredibly strange, so his scepticism would doubt it vehemently until he was given something concrete to be glad about.

"We're just checking in at the FBI. You're in the clear. Whatever amount you might have been exposed to wasn't enough to infect you."

"And you're sure it won't set in later?"

She shook her head. "This is a rapidly-acting pathogen. It would have shown up in your blood immediately. The other good news is that it's less infectious than we thought: it's not airborne like the Cordilla virus was."

Jack realised just how rare it was that he received good news, let alone twice in the same conversation. He felt his body release the tension he had been holding since he got in the van. "Thank you." 

When he stepped out and made his way to the main entrance, Renee came over, looking at him expectantly.

"I wasn't infected."

She sighed with relief. "Thank God. I'm glad." 

"Me, too," he agreed with a small smile.

The bandage on her neck had been freshly changed over, something he hadn't noticed before. It reminded him of what she had been through today, but it also spoke wonders of her as an agent that she was still standing.

"Before we go in, I just need to say one thing."

Renee stopped in her tracks and looked back at him.

"I'm sorry for how I've treated you today. Michelle trusts you for a reason, and I should have listened to her, not made my own assumptions."

She took a moment to digest this, but seemed to understand. "I appreciate that. But I know you were just looking out for Michelle, and I don't blame you. All I've realised today is that you can never be too careful about who you trust." She laughed derisively. "Two people I've worked with for years have been arrested for treason, and now there's a terrorist running point upstairs. I think I can forgive you for being paranoid."

He hummed in assent.

They continued to walk ahead, and Jack decided to change the topic to something more relevant. "What's happened since we left the port?"

"Tony's lead apparently screwed us over: the bioweapons weren't there."

His eyes widened. "They have to be!"

"Well, they're hiding them." Renee walked faster as they came towards the bullpen, so he matched her pace. "And now they've drawn weapons on our agents. They're kicking us out."

He cursed under his breath. "Let me guess, they made some bullshit claim about posse comitatus."

"Yeah," she confirmed stiffly. 

They got to the bullpen, and Agent Gold yanked Renee aside by her shirt. Jack assumed it was urgent and related to the case, but proceeded to where Saul and Tony were, neither looking particularly calm about the situation, either. He had only worked with Saul a few times, but knew damn well that he was the only person with as short a fuse as him or Tony.

Tony looked him up and down with worry.

"I'm not infected," Jack explained, and Tony gave a small, relieved smile. "Renee's gotten me up to speed. What's going on?"

"The CIA has a source inside Starkwood: Douglas Knowles," Saul said, scrawling a phone number on a sticky note and passing it to him. "Get him on the line while I keep Michelle and Larry from being shot at. He's our only way out of this mess."

As Jack went to a quieter part of the bullpen to do so, Renee approached him, biting her lip. She looked as though she needed to say something to him.

"What?" Jack asked, concerned, but she seemed to notice he was halfway through dialling Knowles' number.

"It can wait," she said unconvincingly. "How can I help?" 

Michelle resisted the urge to scream as Hodges went on and on about how many of his rights they were violating and what actions he could take against the CIA and FBI. She was not at all comfortable with the number of armed mercenaries he had ordered on their field agents, especially knowing that many of them knew exactly who she was and the kind of research she had done on them. In a way, it showed their underlying cowardice that they wouldn't shoot her, not in front of the head of the FBI. But it was obviously also due to their ultimate objective of enacting their schemes. Saul had told her he would patch Douglas Knowles through, but every passing second made her clench her gun tighter and rapidly scan her surroundings in case one of Hodges' men decided not to change their mind. Larry tried to look calm, but she knew he didn't have any better ideas. He continued to stall Hodges, but Hodges was not the kind of man to be easily convinced. Hodges wanted them out of there, and he would clearly do whatever it took to make that happen.

Just as he gave them a five-minute window to clear out, Jack suddenly spoke in her ear. Michelle hoped that meant he was well and not infected. She had been worried about his exposure. 

"Larry, I want you and your men to pull out on Hodges' timetable. Michelle, you're going to have to find a way to stay behind. We're going to get your vectors over to a CIA contact inside Starkwood."

"Knowles?" she asked quietly, barely moving her lips.

"Yeah," Jack confirmed.

Larry glanced at her. "Isn't that how we got into this mess? A supposedly friendly contact inside Starkwood?" he pointed out sceptically.

"He's the chairman of Starkwood, but he was cooperating with Senator Mayer and our investigation of the company," Saul explained. "He's all we've got." 

That seemed to convince Larry a bit more. Still, the issue of getting Michelle to stay behind was at hand. She knew Tony was listening on the other line, and wondered how much Saul had had to convince him that she should be the one to stay behind. The pressing time to make a decision had probably forced him to agree begrudgingly, not that he really had any authority over what she could do.

"Alright, I've got four hundred eyeballs trained on me right now," Larry said. "How the hell are we supposed to get Michelle to stay behind?"

"You and your men need to create a diversion to cover Michelle's escape," Jack instructed. "If you all get on those helicopters together, we are going to lose this weapon for good."

Larry still looked hesitant, mostly out of concern for her, but Michelle gave him an affirmative nod. They couldn't lose the bioweapon, not when it was within their grasp.

He sighed. "I'll do what I can."

Larry motioned subtly with his hand for her to come forward. "Take his bag," he said, referring to one of the agents behind her. She only had some tactical gear on her, but could certainly do with more if she was going to be alone. Even though she would have Knowles with her, he wasn't quite a field agent.

Michelle slipped to the back of the warehouse as the herd of agents moved forward, interweaving between taller agents who would shield her from sight. Seaton started yelling at Larry, and before she knew it, there was commotion. It didn't sound like shots being fired, thankfully. It was more like one of them had started a fistfight with the other.

Knowles was waiting for her in the shadows, very skittish. She asked him for identification and showed him hers in return.

"You better not be screwing with me like Seaton was," Michelle said warningly.

"I'm not." The anxiety in his voice inclined her to believe him. "I promise. That street's solid security cameras. I'll take you to a restricted area. It's on the east perimeter. There's a good chance the weapons are there." He put his lip between his teeth. "The place is crawling. I don't know how we're going to make it."

She nodded. "I'll take care of that," she assured before speaking into her comm. "I'm with Knowles. I'm going to need satellite support on the east perimeter."

"I've got you just off the landing pad. No hostiles in your immediate vicinity," Tony informed her. "Proceed at your own discretion."

"Copy that." Michelle looked to Seaton. "Which way?"

"Jack…" Renee said just as he hung up the phone.

Michelle and Knowles were on their way. They would call with any updates, and Tony was watching the satellite footage with Agent Gold.

"I need to talk to you." She had the same look of anxiety as before.

He nodded and followed her into his office.

She paused to take a breath before saying, "Your daughter's here to see you." 

Jack blinked at her a few times. "What?"

Renee sighed. "She came to the senate hearing in the morning and has been trying to reach the FBI all day."

He felt a familiar sense of nausea and dread that arose any time Kim was nearby during situations like this. The last time he had felt it was when the Sentox had been released at CTU. He had forgotten just how much he hated it, how much it consumed every fibre of his being. He almost didn't want to believe Renee. Kim had expressed, explicitly, that she had no interest in seeing him. But six years was a long time, long enough for her to change her mind. Was he naive for believing that? That she might actually still want him in her life? The senate hearing had been over half a day ago. God, had she been waiting for him all day? Why hadn't anybody said anything earlier?

"She showed up just before we got back from the port and said she wasn't leaving," Renee elaborated. That was his little girl, alright. "She's sitting in a meeting room. I'm not sure how many more times we can offer her coffee before she goes looking for you herself."

It almost didn't feel real. He was almost paralysed by the thought of seeing her. He didn't want to disappoint her again. He didn't want to hurt her. He was still convinced that she would be better off without him in her life. His mind also couldn't ignore the ongoing crisis in the other room. If he did this now, it was going to mess with his headspace, and he couldn't afford to have that happen now.

"What… what about Michelle and Larry?" Jack said, and the words sounded like an excuse. "They need help finding the bioweapon–"

She shook her head. "We can manage, Jack," she insisted, not with false bravado but genuine reassurance. "Go see your daughter."

He conceded with a sigh. "Alright. Thank you."

Renee smiled a little. "You're welcome."

As Jack walked down the hall, he faintly caught sight of a figure sitting on the couch, but nothing could prepare him for the way his heart stopped as she stood up and faced him. God, she had grown up so much. He remembered how stern and cold she had looked the day he had come out of hiding. He remembered the hatred in her words and how much she had meant them. But now, something had softened. She looked happier, despite the tears in her eyes. She looked healthier, like the light had come back to her.

"Daddy," she whispered.

There was still some apprehension there. He was scared to approach her and vice versa. But he told her to sit as he came towards her, trying not to let his voice break as he did so. What did it say about him that he could barely meet her eye? He felt almost ashamed to be in her presence. But more than that, at this proximity, he could see so much of Teri in her, and it made his heart clench.

"Did Agent Walker tell you I was trying to find you?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"I've tried everything to track you down: state department, private investigators. E-Every time I got a phone number or an address, you were already gone."

So, she had tried to look for him before today. It hadn't been a spur-of-the-moment thing because she had seen the news about the hearing: she had been looking for him. He had never stayed in one place for very long after coming back from China. He had struggled to define home. The closest he had felt had been in Sangala, but that had been more about the people he had been with, the sense of community, not the place itself. Home was the people he cared about, but with so many of them dead — or so he had thought, up until this morning — it had been difficult to find that sense of peace. And, on top of that, he had been well aware of the countless list of enemies who might try to come after him. Every time he had had an inkling someone knew where he was, he had moved. While he had taken some comfort in knowing he had mostly outmanoeuvred them, if he had known they had been sent on Kim's behalf, perhaps he would have let them find him. Or perhaps he still would have been a coward and run away. He wondered how many times she had gotten close, gotten her hopes up and then been let down by him, once again. 

"I'm sorry," Jack said. "I thought I was doing the best thing for you by staying away."

Kim shook her head slowly. "Daddy, I've missed you so much." 

"I've missed you, too," he echoed, with a watery smile. "You need to know how sorry I am for everything that you've had to live through because of me."

"No, don't do that. Don't put that on yourself." She met his eyes. "I'm the one who should apologise. I pushed you away. And instead of taking responsibility for all the mistakes I've made in my life, I blamed you. And it was stupid and immature. And now, look at the time that we've lost…" 

He pulled her in for a hug, hushing her and feeling her tears land on his shoulder. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay. I'm here now. Once today's over, we're going to talk, and I'm going to be there for you in whatever way you want me to."

Kim nodded, holding him tighter. "I have something else to tell you now." She sounded nervous, but not upset, so he hoped it was good news — today seemed to have had plenty to go around. She pulled back so she could look at him. "You're a grandfather."

His eyebrows rose, and he laughed in disbelief. "What?"

"I got married a few years ago."

The slight panic that crept into his expression must have been obvious because she put her hand on his and shook her head.

"Not to Barry, don't worry." She chuckled nervously. "His name is Stephen. He's a doctor, and he's, uh, he's very good to me." He could tell how much she was beaming, her fingers shaking as she got her phone out and showed a photo of a sleeping baby girl. "She's six months old. We named her after Mom."

"Oh, sweetheart, that's wonderful. I'm… I'm so happy for you."

"I want you to come to LA and meet her as soon as this is over," she asked. "Please."

He didn't have to give that a second thought. "I'll be there." He could only hope he would be able to keep that promise.

Jack then glanced at the clock. He probably needed to get back to the bullpen and check on any updates, despite Renee's assurance that they had things handled. He told Kim, and she didn't seem to mind, likely figuring he was involved in what was going on. She said she would go back to her hotel room, and they could get a flight back together, if they wanted.

"Before you go… why did they bring you to the FBI?" Kim asked. "Is it to do with the attacks that have happened today?"

"Yeah. It's a long story." Jack chuckled mirthlessly. "But I guess what's probably the most relevant to you is that, uh, Tony's alive. So is Michelle."

Kim blinked at him a few times, gaping slightly. "What?– How? W-We were both there when Tony died that day at CTU. Chloe had said Michelle was in an explosion."

He sighed, her total disbelief very similar to how he reacted in the morning. 

"Did– I don't understand, were they together? Why didn't they tell you?"

"They didn't know until recently. Michelle was hidden and protected by the CIA. Tony ended up working for a mercenary." Her eyes widened at that. "But now they're cooperating to stop the attacks."

"Should I be expecting a third wedding invitation then?" Kim asked off-handedly. "They only did a dinner the second time, I feel like they're probably sick of it, at this point."

He bit his lip. "It's a little more complicated than that. They were both involved with other people, and I think they still have feelings for them."

Kim grimaced. "Forget I said anything then."

Jack hummed in assent. "I don't know what they're going to do."

"I hope they can both find a way to be happy, and, well, that they get through today to even think about that."

"I hope so, too."

Michelle peered around the corner, watching as the trucks arrived above the bunker, her heart still racing. She had already taken three hostiles down on her own, since she had split with Knowles so he could divert some more from her. But Knowles hadn't met back up with her, so she had to assume the worst. After sneaking into the lab and sending confirmation of the bioweapon to Saul and Tony — which she had located on floors that apparently didn't exist on their schematics — they had told her they would get the president to authorise an airstrike as soon as possible. She had helped herself to some body armour and ammunition in a storage room, but didn't like the fact that she hadn't seen many women around. There were enough worries about being recognised as it was; it didn't help if she stuck out like a sore thumb. What was taking them so long to move in?

"Saul," Michelle hissed. "Where are the F-18s?"

"The president just cancelled the airstrike," Saul informed her incredulously.

Her eyes narrowed, her hand going to her comm in case she hadn't heard him properly. "What do you mean she cancelled it?"

"She doesn't believe our intel is strong enough to justify military action," Tony explained, and he sounded just as frustrated.

"I-I don't understand," Michelle said, feeling her heart race. "I saw those canisters with my own eyes. So did you. They're in that bunker. What more intel does she need?"

Saul sighed. "I know. It doesn't make any sense, but right now, we've got a presidential order to pull you out of the Starkwood compound, along with the perimeter teams," he informed her, and she knew if he wasn't being stubborn about it, then they really were at a total loss. "Larry also knows. He's preparing to move his teams out, but he has to get you out of there first. He'll be sending you coordinates for an exfiltration point along the south-west perimeter. 

"You've been there long enough for someone to have recognised you," Tony added worriedly. "Now, you're alone, and they might already be trying to hunt you down."

Something wasn't right. Taylor had stressed the importance of evidence and doing whatever it took to get the bioweapon, so why would she change her mind so suddenly without explanation?

Michelle got her binoculars out and inspected the operatives near the trucks. They were loading something. Tony said her name impatiently, but she told him to wait. She spotted three letters on a large tank and recalled that she had found abnormal purchase records in Starkwood's financial history; it had been one of the only leads the CIA had had.

"I might know why the president called off that air strike," Michelle uttered.

"What do you mean?" Saul asked.

Michelle saw someone look in her direction and took cover again. "I think Starkwood has surface-to-surface missiles. That's how they plan to deploy the bioweapon." She paused to catch her breath. "A fuel truck just pulled up next to the bunker where they're storing the weapons. They're pumping it into an underground depot."

Tony seemed to already have some insight into this. "Can you see the logo on the side of the tank? What type of fuel are we talking?"

She craned her neck without coming out of her cover before confirming, "RP-7."

Tony cursed. "That has to be it. Do you have any C4 on you?"

Michelle opened up her bag. "Yeah. I've got three charges and a remote detonator."

"Do you think you can gain access to the underground fuel depot?" Saul asked.

"Yeah, but I need to move quickly before the fuel truck pulls away."

"We need to call the president first," Saul reminded her. "Maintain your position. Don't do anything crazy."

Michelle huffed. How could she not, when this was part of the conspiracy she had worked so hard to unearth? How could she stay still when those missiles could be deployed at any time?

"No. I'm not letting them get away with it."

"Michelle," Tony chided warningly, but she wouldn't have it.

"Someone is pulling Taylor's strings. She's not going to authorise anything."

She knew this was insane. She did. But she wasn't going to let it stop her.

"Michelle hasn't responded to me yet," Larry said with concern. "I gave her the coordinates fifteen minutes ago."

Renee bit her lip. That wasn't good. Her mind immediately went to dark places: a Starkwood operative had captured her for information or worse. It never should have been her. Renee understood why Michelle had an excessive need to be in control of this case. She would, too, if she had suffered so much in pursuit of the truth. But it was a huge risk for her, and they all knew it. The very people who were part of the cabal Tony had uncovered could be in the same place as Michelle, waiting to take the shot and silence her for good. Renee felt sick as she continued to spiral and told Larry to hold his position until she asked Saul and Tony what was going on. Jack stayed on the line with them.

She walked back over to where Saul and Tony were. Tony was walking with his hands interlocked behind his head, while Saul was angrily trying to get through to the president. 

"What happened?"

"Michelle found surface-to-surface missiles loaded with the bioweapon. She believes that Hodges blackmailed the president into calling off the airstrike."

Renee's eyes widened. "So what now? Do I tell Larry to move in?" Somehow, that simple solution didn't sound like it was going to work.

"We're trying to get the president to reauthorise the strike, but Michelle said she's taking them on her own and blowing up the missiles to incinerate the bioweapon."

Renee gaped at Tony. "What?– Is she insane?"

Tony shook his head and appeared just as stressed as she was. "She said she has to see this through with or without approval," he explained.

"God..." Renee sighed. 

He laughed a little out of sheer disbelief.

"What?"

"Nothing." He hardened his voice, the anxiety returning to him immediately. "I just remembered this isn't the first time she's done something this crazy."

Renee folded her arms. "What? You mean beyond drugging me and faking a hostage situation with Jack like she did today?"

He snorted. "This is exactly like the time she called me from inside the hotel." Solemnness arose in his expression. "She was supposed to wait outside for CDC, but thought she could stop the virus from being released, so she went in, no hazmat suit, guns blazing."

The fond way he was talking about their past made her feel a pang of jealousy. It was stupid, about as stupid as it had been before. Tony and Michelle had been married. She and Michelle hadn't even gotten engaged, although things could have been different had it not been for the CIA's plan to seek out the moles in the FBI. But Renee also recognised that she understood how he was feeling. He cared for Michelle. So did she. They could at least agree on that.

Michelle had intended to do this covertly, but things had escalated so quickly. She had taken advantage of Starkwood having slightly dropped their guard since they falsely believed the FBI had vacated the premises. There had only been two operatives standing guard near the bunker where the fuel had been pumped. She had held one at gunpoint and used him as leverage against the other, who had heeded her instructions to take her to the fuel. 

The bunker was pitch black, and the noise from the boilers made it hard to listen out in case anybody had snuck up behind her, especially given her hearing loss. The various pipes and machinery also created a lot of hiding spots in case someone was already down here, waiting to make their move. But she put on a brave face, wanting them to know not to underestimate her. She was trying to think about the most strategic way to place the C4 while also being aware that someone could check in on the Starkwood operative at any moment. She had handcuffed him to one of the pipes.

"I know who you are," the operative said. "I'm surprised you're still alive when half the people in this building have wanted you dead for so many years."

She smiled mirthlessly. "I'm surprised, myself."

"People have lost billions because of you," he went on. "This country needs companies like Starkwood. You're so delusional that you don't even realise the irony in the government having to use you, a retired CTU agent, to get this done because they can't trust anybody."

Michelle looked back at him. "Yeah, because a company that's about to fire missiles onto American soil is really what this country needs."

"It's an acceptable loss. It'll make that stupid bitch you call a president realise that she's wrong."

She never thought she would be face-to-face with one of the people she had been trying to expose, talking like this. His vehement devotion to his cause honestly scared her more than him trying to kill her. It made this all feel a little more real and justified, that, yes, people like this existed and had access to weapons of mass destruction. But she wouldn't take the bait and continue to argue with him. There was no point, and no time.

A quick survey of the room confirmed the charges were spread evenly. Michelle then walked back over to the hostile and uncuffed him with a glare. He didn't budge.

"I can leave you down here, if that's what you want. Can't make any promises about you coming out after, though — at least, not in one piece."

He rolled his eyes and raised his hands, standing in front of her, so she could nudge him with her gun to lead him above ground.

As she walked back over, the detonator firmly in her other hand, she glanced at the other operative she had knocked out. But she should have taken a better look because a second after she turned around, she felt herself knocked to the concrete, the detonator rolling into a small grate. The same hostile launched at her, and she threw her elbow behind her, grunting as it smashed the cartilage of his nose. She got to her feet, taking advantage of the fact that he had one hand on his face to kick him in the stomach, and then between his legs. With so many attempts on her life in the past, this was nothing. She could only pray it would be the last, that after today, after all the arrests were made, she could walk free without constantly looking behind her, or placing her hand to her holster, ready to draw her weapon at all times, that she wouldn't have to worry that someone like Renee or any of the other people on her security team, whom she would forever owe, would be at risk of dying all for her.

However, just as she got him to the floor, groaning in pain, she noticed that the glass on a nearby emergency panel had been smashed. An alarm could have been triggered, but she couldn't hear its shrill frequency. If it hadn't been for noticing the glass, she would have had no idea. She ran towards the second hostile, the one she had escorted to the bunker, trying to pull him back. He was a lot taller than she was, which made it difficult to accurately aim for more vulnerable areas. She kicked the backs of his kneecaps, then swept his legs so he fell, hitting his head on the ground. As she went to kick him again, he grabbed her by the ankle and dragged her down with him. She tried her best to rotate, occasionally flitting her eyes to the other hostile, and got her legs near his head.

He clawed at her, moving violently in her hold, but she managed to wrap her legs around his neck, twisting and jerking until she heard a loud crack and he fell limp. Now the alarm was a lot louder and more resonant. An entire army comprised of people with a vendetta against her would be here in seconds. Except, unlike before, she was totally on her own now. She had no way of contacting Larry to ask for backup, and even if she tried, he was probably too far away to do much. There was a loud roar, indicating the missiles were preparing for take-off. She was running out of time.

Michelle rolled over and tried to stick her hand through the grate, thankful the gaps were just big enough for her hand to slide through and that it was very shallow. Blood was dripping onto the floor from the wound on the side of her head, which had now reopened. She had to wipe some of it from going into her eyes with her free hand. The detonator was barely out of reach, so she tried to lift the grate, but it was bolted to the ground. Ironically, since those two hostiles had been taller than her, she probably could have demanded they get it out for her. She tried to lower her arm further, wincing as the metal pinched her shoulder, fumbling for the inconveniently smooth cylindrical object. She had to do this. If she failed now, thousands of innocent people would die, and she would only be able to blame her own audacity to take the hostiles alone. At the same time, who else could have done this? Unfortunately, that was what most of this damn investigation always came back to: the CIA or FBI lacking jurisdiction to run any operation officially through the proper channels, forcing them to use one of their favourite agents who could be conveniently scapegoated at any time and had nothing to lose. Except, well, there were two people oscillating in her mind that she would be very upset to lose.

Finally, Michelle felt the weight of the detonator in her hand, physically and emotionally. This wasn't just about stopping the bioweapon: it was about actively taking her power back, doing something after having to hide and be so vigilant for all this time. This was about putting an end to overzealous companies like Starkwood and restoring faith in the government. This was about justice. This was about protecting people. This was about everything she had sacrificed all these years to get here. 

And when she pressed the red button, she couldn't deny the release she felt in her body.

Tony had spent what felt like aeons pacing, waiting for some kind of sign of life from Michelle. With every passing minute, it had become more and more convincing that she had been killed, or worse. It wasn't like someone from Starkwood would ring and complain that the FBI had left someone behind. No, these people wanted her and her information badly. He tried not to spiral too much. He told himself that she was alive until proven otherwise. He refused to let himself think about how it would shatter him if he lost her today, just as he had found her again. Even considering the possibility really put things into perspective. It reminded him of when she would go into the field at CTU, and how, even when everything went perfectly smoothly, by the time she got back, any arguments or petty complaints from earlier in the day would vanish, too aware that one bullet gone astray could have taken her from him. It applied the other way around, too. There had rarely been something that hadn't been resolved by thinking about how short and fragile life was in that line of work. Tony realised he missed thinking like this, not the overwhelming anxiety about the unknown and need to remain objective, or treating her life with equal value to other agents — he had never been good at that — but just the feeling of wanting to protect her. That was what it always came back to: wanting to keep her safe and wanting to make sure she was happy. It was most of why he had pushed her away after his time in prison: he had believed she would be better off without him and didn't need him holding her back. It was just the way he expressed his love for her.

He observed that Renee seemed just as worried as he was, for which he couldn't fault her, although he had detected some slight hostility when he had brought up the Cordilla virus outbreak earlier. Had it been the other way around, her bringing up an example of Michelle's valiance during a time when he wasn't around, it would have triggered his penchant for jealousy, too. Tony wondered how similar they were. They had to be at least a little if Michelle had been in relationships with both of them. Admittedly, just over these past couple of hours, when he and Renee had been in the bullpen running point, they had almost been in mental lockstep with each other. When he had gone to say one thing, she had beaten him to it, and vice versa. Maybe in another universe, they would have just been working at CTU or the FBI together. It felt strange to think about: working for the government again, probably because he had always assumed when this was all over, he would be in a holding cell — if he even made it out alive. They might offer him a deal, but prison was a very real, almost certain possibility. More than that, he doubted he would be allowed to work for the government with two treason charges behind him, one with much less sympathetic reasoning than the other. In all honesty, he really hadn't thought much about the future beyond this day. This day had been the only thing on his mind for so many years, so now didn't feel like the best time to start.

Suddenly, one of the screens displayed a stark white flash, a rumble echoing through their comms before static and an eerie silence. Tony felt his heart leap in his chest. Without hesitation, Saul ordered Larry to move in. It was clear Michelle had been successful, but there was still the question of whether she had made it away from the blast in time. He didn't doubt her ability, but he lacked faith that anything could go right today, out of his own belief that there was some kind of divine punishment waiting for him, that he was going to suffer today to truly atone for the lines he had crossed over the last six years. 

Tony held his breath, waiting for a response from her, but remembered the explosion had probably fried her comm. 

"Larry, what's your status?" Renee asked. She was gripping the table so hard that her knuckles were white.

"I'm getting to her, just give me a minute," Larry responded impatiently, clearly worried, too.

There was gunfire again, Larry obviously encountering some resistance. But every additional delay was killing them. Tony met Renee's eyes, both cautiously optimistic, but too afraid to release their stress until they knew Michelle was okay.

"Michelle, you alright?" Larry called, and she lifted her head to see him and a few other agents running towards her.

She was sitting and trying to catch her breath. The bumps, bruises, and bleeding nose weren't even the worst of it. After pushing herself with adrenaline so much today, she was going to need a lot of painkillers and physiotherapy. She was pretty sure she had met her quota of mandated fieldwork for the year, or maybe two. The explosion had also caused a slight resurgence of the ringing in her ears. However, as it had been a bit further away than the vent, it wasn't quite as bad, not even bad enough to make her overwhelmed again, the feeling of achievement surprisingly and thankfully outweighing it all.

"I'm fine," she rasped, trying to speak over all the buzzing in her ears. He extended a hand to help her up.

"Damn…" Larry uttered, as he looked around, making Michelle blush a little. "I'm sure the president can't be too mad about you going against orders. If you don't get a medal of bravery, I'll make you one myself." She could tell from his facial expression that he was making an effort to speak louder, which she was grateful for. 

She laughed through her nose. She really had liked working with Larry, and she was glad her intuition to trust him had been well-founded. But she could also tell it had been hard for him to let go of so much authority and control today. By this point, the CIA had basically taken over the FBI.

"Thank you for being so understanding with… all of this. I'm sorry I turned the FBI upside down and wasn't quite truthful about my purpose."

He shook his head. "I mean, it's a lot to process, but I can see you've sacrificed a lot to get here, and you've done some great work. I hope we can still see you around once you go back to the CIA full-time."

Michelle smiled, although it hurt her jaw to do so. She had gotten a few scrapes and bruises; she was sure they would be an unpleasant shade of purple when she got home. "I do, too."

"Speaking of, I think Saul wants you back ASAP so you can debrief the president. But Hodges has been arrested, so that's a start."

She nodded. "Good."

Larry called over two other agents and ordered them to escort her to one of the vans heading back. "Oh, and…" he said, just as she turned to leave. "Tony and Renee both wanted me to tell you they're glad you're okay."

"Tell them they can say it to me in person when I get back," she replied.

As Michelle started walking, she remembered the kiss she and Renee had shared before they left. The rush of adrenaline she had experienced was one that only came from the impending fear that it might be the last time they ever got to feel each other's touch. She knew it well. But her brain was pointedly reminding her that this was also a kind of moment she had had with Tony, more than once. Ever since she had found out Tony was alive, she had been exhausted by the constant comparisons her mind had made after years of trying to let memories of Tony fade. She hadn't tried to pretend those years with Tony hadn't happened, but she had learned to stop them from entering her mind and guilting her every time she allowed herself to feel something for Renee. Having nearly lost both of them multiple times today, it had been very overwhelming. Renee had kissed her like the world was going to end. It had been genuine. It had been heartfelt. It had been an apology. And she should appreciate that, but she couldn't stop herself from remembering her and Tony's first kiss, and the kiss from the day they got back together. She needed time to think, lots of it, with a glass of wine, or perhaps a bottle, and a good night's rest. Maybe after the debrief, she could go home for a while. Even though there would still be more evidence to sort through, if they had taken care of the bioweapon, that likely meant there were no major threats, so she would be free to take some well-deserved rest.

The sound of two rapid gunshots in succession shocked her out of her train of thought, although they barely penetrated the layer of fuzz and ringing. Michelle turned her head rapidly from side to side, seeing that the two agents had both been killed. Some of their blood had splattered onto her. The way she immediately took cover and drew her weapon, her eyes darting around, could only come from someone who had spent such a long time in fear for her life. It was too dark to see any snipers on the roof, but she had a general idea of where they were based on the bullets ricocheting off the corner of the walls she was hiding behind. If they couldn't get a clear shot, they would want to finish the job by hand before they drew too much attention from the FBI agents. Yes, their shots were silenced, but as soon as Larry tried to check in and make sure she had gotten to the car safely, he would know something was up.

Upon seeing a moving shadow, Michelle raised her gun to the roof above, but ensured she continued to check the neighbouring buildings. She knew at a time like this, she would need her eyes more than her ears. More shots were fired, so she ducked, one bullet grazing her arm, ripping off part of the jacket she was wearing and causing her to wince. She fired in the general direction of the shots and sighed as she heard one of them make contact with something, or someone, based on the faint cry of pain and clatter of their gun cascading down the roof and onto the ground.

There was an uneasy silence for a moment. She knew that there had to be at least one more assassin, but she was too far away for them to shoot. Michelle needed to draw fire from them without risking too much exposure. Without losing her grip on the gun, she grabbed her phone from her pocket and tried to call Larry. But just as she got the dial tone, there was a loud bang on the roof above her, one she could certainly hear, and she looked up to see someone launching themself at her. Michelle tried to prepare herself for impact, but narrowly missed smacking the back of her head against the wall. The assassin, like her, was in full body armour, meaning she had been sent by someone professional. Call it a gut feeling, but Michelle knew she wasn't just some random Starkwood operative defending their turf; this woman and her accomplices were here for her.

Michelle wrapped her legs around the woman's waist and tried to flip her over, but struggled as she started to choke her. She was bone-tired from before, making her movements so sloppy that she was relying solely on adrenaline. However, she had never been so grateful for all those sparring matches with Renee and for pushing to take care of her body even in the depths of her depression. Although right now, what was powering her was something that no amount of push-ups or dumbbells could yield. And she and Renee never made each other bleed like this. Their eyes met; Michelle didn't recognise her as anyone from Starkwood she had investigated. Stars started to creep into the corner of her vision, but Michelle willed herself to keep her eyes open, pushing the woman away with everything she had, even as she pushed back.

With one hand, Michelle feebly reached for her weapon, swinging it in an arc and hitting the woman across the face with the butt of the gun, allowing her to finally gain the upper hand. Her already bloodied knuckles collided with the woman's nose, and Michelle felt the bone break beneath it. She hadn't realised just how much anger was powering her, until she acknowledged how many times she had beaten the assassin. The woman kicked between her legs, and Michelle groaned in frustration, trying not to let it throw her off balance.

"Who sent you?" Michelle asked, using one hand to pin the woman's throat down, while the other held her gun to her face.

"Go to hell," she rasped.

Michelle's cheek twitched. "You first."

In one swift motion, she shoved the muzzle of the gun under her vest and shot the assassin in the neck twice, causing blood to spray around her. She would have shot her in the head if not for the need to try to identify her, although her broken nose wouldn't help. Michelle panted a few times, placing her hand to the wound on her arm and trying to compress the bleeding. Although the woman had stilled, Michelle was still wise to disarm her.

Just as she went to reattempt calling Larry, there was a vibrating sound coming from the inside of the woman's jacket. Michelle fished out a cell phone. If only Chloe or Janis were here, then they could run a trace. But her eyes fell to the phone's added voice modulator. She could answer it without being identified.

"Has Dessler been taken care of?" a distorted voice asked as she picked up, making her blood run cold.

"Yes," Michelle answered, trying to keep her voice monotone. "She's dead."

"Good. At least we have something to celebrate today. We'll discuss a new way to obtain the pathogen once we meet," the person said conclusively, as though they were about to hang up.

"W-Wait," Michelle said, trying not to sound too nervous. "We need a new meeting spot. Intel says the current location is compromised," she bluffed.

The person hummed in thought, seemingly not doubting her, and gave her the address of a warehouse and a meeting time of three hours from now.

"Bring the body." Despite the alteration of the person's voice, Michelle could still detect sadism in their tone. "I want to look into the eyes of the bitch who tried to take everything from me."

They hung up, and Michelle felt her whole body shake with fury and fear. She remembered what Tony had said about a cabal wanting to use the pathogen. Whoever had paid the assassin to come after her had to be part of it. Michelle used the woman's jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face so she could take a clear photo, then decided to call Tony. He knew more about this cabal than anyone, after all.

"Hey, Larry just told me you were on your way–"

"I'm sending you a photo to run through facial recognition," she said tersely, cutting him off, too on edge to appreciate the care and relief in his voice. 

He tried to ask what was going on, and heard the sound of him receiving the text on the other line. There was a pause.

"I know her," Tony said with a hint of worry.

Michelle bit the inside of her lip. "How?"

"She… she was the member of the cabal I tried to get intel from," Tony explained, confirming her suspicions. "I-I don't understand. What was she doing at Starkwood?"

"She just tried to kill me. Which means I've pissed the cabal off enough now that they're out for blood and they don't care about hiding any more."

When Tony walked into the small study David had called him to, the first thing he noticed was the worry on his face. Usually, when the two of them had a moment alone, David would let his guard down, crack that cocky smile that Tony adored, and show the affection that he generally kept hidden around the other members of his crew, lest they think he played favourites. But today, he was showing that vulnerability in a different way. Tony had seen this face very few times. David was not one to lose his cool even under the tensest of circumstances, so whatever it was, it was bad.

"What's wrong?"

"Take a seat, Tony," he said gently.

Tony did so, noticing that David was resting his hand on a closed manila folder.

"Sean came across something that he thought you might be interested in."

Tony furrowed his brow. "Why me?"

He sighed, sliding the folder in front of him.

"Open it."

Tony's fingers moved to reveal the documents inside. Subconsciously, Tony deduced that he was looking at some kind of personnel file. There were names, dates, and projects listed. The top corner was marked with CIA insignia. This was a government profile, not a public record. But Tony's eyes immediately fell to the attached photo. He lifted it to bring it closer to his face, hoping it would give away some detail that confirmed that the person he was looking at was a lookalike and nothing more. But it had the opposite effect. As he looked more intently, he saw more and more features that accelerated the rush of memories, both fond and traumatic, in his mind. He heard his heartbeat thunder in his ears.

"I… I don't…." 

"Your wife betrayed you," David said simply.

"W-What?"

"She's working for the CIA, Tony. They saved her from the bomb."

Glancing back at the photo of her face, he noticed a large scar across her cheek. He remembered holding her. How limp she had been. All the blood. The blood. If she had been rescued by the CIA and they had kept her there, then that wasn't her fault. She would have believed him dead. If that was where she had ended up, he couldn't blame her.

"Whatever they wanted her for, she couldn't have known they would–"

He tutted. "Records show she became reactivated on their system eleven months before the day of the accident."

Tony tried to think about that. For a second, he went to protest again, claiming it was just leftover from when she had worked at CTU up until the day they got back together. But when he thought more carefully about the timeline, he realised that, at this point, they had been establishing their private security business. She had left CTU long before this date.

"This… this isn't right. She told me she was leaving CTU behind, and she did. I remember how happy we were on her last day, I…"

"I couldn't get any further details about missions and such, but from what my contact gathered, she's been a private consultant. So, whatever she did, she did from inside your home."

Now, Tony tried to think harder, recalled her working late nights in their study, and had assumed it was for their business. They had put a lot of time and effort into setting themselves up financially for their future, so he hadn't thought twice about it. To think she had gone behind his back to do something that completely went against everything they had agreed made his stomach sink. They had worked so hard on communication, too. They had gone to counselling. They had done so many good things and had never been prouder of the state of their relationship. Had it all been a lie?

He slowly swung his head from side to side. "How– Why didn't she tell me?"

"Perhaps she thought you'd try to keep her away from it."

"You're damn right I would have. We agreed this was the only way we would be able to start a family, that we would never be safe, so long as…"

As soon as he said family, he desperately tried to flip to see if there were any next-of-kin listed in the file. Other than the mention of her deceased husband, there was nothing. Maybe the people who had put the bomb in her car were still after her. From what he had researched, that was more than likely. Maybe she was keeping their son hidden to protect him.

"O-Our son," Tony said, his voice breaking. "She… she's kept him from me. I need to find them, I need–"

"Tony…" David interrupted softly. 

Tony turned to the last page, which contained some medical records, before moving his finger to one particular section.

"She lost the baby, Tony."

Hearing those words, knowing they were absolutely true, was his undoing. He went back to the page with her photo, finding it impossible to feel angry at her when he was so awed at the fact that she was out there somewhere, living and breathing. There was a chance that he could hear her laugh again, see her smile again. Tony also realised that beneath all of his shock and pain, there was a part of him so wrought with guilt because he didn't know how he was going to explain what he had done to her if they ever met again. She had done something noble. It might have been part of the reason they had been torn apart again, and he couldn't look past that; he couldn't look past that she had kept such a huge secret and endangered their lives. But as for him, well, he had given up on being noble a very long time ago. 

The hurricane of emotions took control of every part of his body. He felt as hopelessly lost as he had the day he had woken up in David's compound. David had been there for him, had held him, had stopped him from going over the edge. And from there, he had rebuilt himself. He had evolved into someone so different from the man Michelle had loved. He had taken his festering grief and pain and turned it into something constructive — rather, destructive. At the beginning, he had been reluctant. David's ideologies had gone against everything he had known, that desire to serve and protect. Over time, however, he had believed David's words and adhered to them, reminded only of his conscience when David had started working to breach the CIP device. Contacting Bill and Chloe had taken courage. While they hadn't shown it obviously, Tony knew they, too, had been judgemental of his choices. But the information he had given them had just been far too valuable to refuse.

Tony became aware of David's hand on his shoulder, such a comforting presence. However, it also came with a side of nauseating shame because he wasn't even loyal to David right now. He was going behind his back to make sure his plans didn't come to fruition. It hadn't been an easy decision to betray David, but there had been innocent lives at stake, something he hadn't been able to ignore. Right now, though, Tony knew he wasn't strong enough to resist him, wasn't strong enough to actively pull away from him. David had supported him every step of the way as he had tried to find a way to live life without Michelle, without ever having the chance to meet the son that would have symbolised their new beginning. He had needed David then. And he needed David now, too.

He stood, feeling his knees wobble, and David took him into his arms. Tony tried to gain control of his breathing and maintain his composure, but as tears started to sting his eyes, he realised that he wasn't going to be able to.

"It's okay, love, I'm here," David whispered, kissing the side of his head.

His fingers dug in tightly to his back.

"I will never betray you."

As David said those words, Tony let out a sob. He felt unworthy. David had saved his life, and here he was, stabbing him in the back. When he found out, he was going to kill him, but that pain wasn't going to compare to the disappointment he would see in David's eyes. Even Bill and Chloe weren't going to be able to help him, nor would they be able to vouch for him and protect him. There was only one thing he could do, one thing, to salvage his life: find Michelle, demand an explanation from her, but also... beg her for forgiveness.

Tony waited for the room to fall quiet. Everybody was looking at him expectantly, and he had to admit it was nice to feel this kind of respect. He had obviously proven himself enough today to be seen as more than just the only man with intel about the case, more than just a last resort. They wanted his help to solve the rest of the conspiracy. 

He moved his cursor and clicked on the profile to display it on the screen behind him.

"The assassin that Michelle encountered is named Cara Bowden. She's an intermediary between the members of the cabal and the leader, Alan Wilson." He tried not to say the name with too much disgust. Talking about Wilson never failed to make burning hatred rise in his chest. "He's incredibly secretive. It took years to piece it all together, but, long story short, he's at the top of the food-chain. He was the one who controlled Charles Logan. He got BXJ involved. He assassinated Palmer when he got too close."

Michelle's and Jack's expressions both softened. He might not be going into detail, but they all understood the underlying emotions there.

"And today, he tried to get the bioweapon so he could use it on American soil."

"How good was the intel?" Saul asked. "Based on what you're saying, I'm surprised you were able to hack into those files."

"I didn't hack into them: I accessed them directly," Tony explained shortly, praying nobody would follow up further.

Renee furrowed her brow. "How the hell did you manage to get direct access to Bowden's computer, let alone Wilson's?"

Tony huffed. He supposed it would have come out one way or another, but he really didn't like the fact that Michelle was in the room. It felt somewhat ridiculous, given that she already knew about the real relationship he had had with a criminal, but this was a little different. "I was... involved with her. I used to copy files from her computer and its private network linked to the cabal onto my hard drive in the mornings after we…" He felt his cheeks redden, and couldn't bear to look at Michelle. "It wasn't easy. I had to convince her I was a true believer in the cabal's delusional 'patriotic' cause. She wouldn't let me near them. She said she'd put in a good word for me, but that if I really wanted to prove myself, I had to cut ties with everybody else, starting with Emerson's crew." 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying not to let the harshness of David's final words to him re-enter his mind and overwhelm him. 

"I tried to tell her that the crew would be useful, and that I'd let her know." He lifted a shoulder. "But when I came back to Emerson's compound that day, he told me about the CIP device. Soon after, I found out Michelle was alive, and I never spoke to Cara again. I cut her off completely."

"So, she probably wasn't referring to you positively to Wilson, if at all, meaning we can't exploit that relationship," Larry concluded.

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "And now we've got a meeting with him in a couple of hours that we're not ready for."

Everybody else hummed in thought. They couldn't miss such a vital opportunity. But if Wilson suspected anything was off, they wouldn't even get a glimpse of him. Michelle's fluke had worked, but they shouldn't push their luck. Wilson couldn't suspect for a second that something had happened to Cara. Tony didn't think going in her place was going to work, as Larry had mentioned. He found himself looking down at Cara's profile on the laptop, while everybody else looked at the screen behind him. There was silence, and he could see that a few people were looking between the image of Cara and Renee. Then it hit him. The resemblance wasn't great, but with a little help… it might just work.

"Renee," Jack said, and she looked a little startled. "If you wore Bowden's clothes and sunglasses, you might just be able to pass as her at the meeting, and take her body in the bag, claim it's Michelle."

She gaped at him. "Yeah, until he gets closer to me and realises I look nothing like her. Seriously? Hair and eye colour is what you're basing this off of?"

"You'd put on body armour and that would bulk you up, too," Jack supplied.

"Because body armour's going to be real helpful if one of his henchmen blows my brains out."

"We might not have a choice," Saul rebutted.

"We don't have to let it get that far," Jack pointed out. "All we need is a clean shot of Wilson. We sedate him with a tranq dart and take him back for interrogation. At the same time, we kill his men to minimise the risk to you, Renee, and get you out of there."

"And, hopefully, if he's apparently so excited to see my body, it'll distract him from his usual paranoia," Michelle added.

"Fine," Renee agreed. "But the second you knock him down, you get me out of there. I'm not going to be able to take on God knows how many mercenaries on my own."

The plan sounded like it might work, although Tony could tell Michelle wasn't happy about the idea of putting Renee in the line of fire like this, and he couldn't blame her. But she cared about stopping this conspiracy, as did everybody else in the room. They could put an end to this today. However, Tony could also tell Michelle still had something on her mind. She kept looking at him, and he couldn't figure out why. Larry seemed to notice this, clearing his throat to get the room's attention. 

"Alright, we can keep thinking about alternatives, but right now, this is our only idea, so let's prepare regardless," Larry decided. "Half of us will coordinate our teams, the other half will try to make Renee look as close to Bowden as possible."

Everyone muttered in agreement and left the room, but Tony asked Michelle to stay. 

She nodded, shutting the door before they met halfway.

"Look, I… I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Cara," he said, not able to meet her eye. "I-I wasn't trying to keep it a secret–"

Before he could finish, Michelle cut him off with, "That's not what I was thinking about. I… I get it. Sometimes that's the only way to gain someone's trust."

He furrowed his brow. 

"You said you stopped contacting Bowden because of the CIP device and because you found out I was alive. What…" She sighed. "What was your plan if those things hadn't come up?"

"Why are you asking this now?"

"Because once again we're about to go into something dangerous blindly, and I just– I need to know. What were your intentions?"

"I don't know," he confessed after a beat. "When I think back to how angry I was and how much I was hurting, I think I would have done whatever it took to get closure." Before she could look any more disappointed in him, he was quick to attempt to salvage this by saying, "But I'm not that guy anymore. The CIP device made me realise I didn't want to go that far, not really. And then the day I saw your face on a CIA profile sheet… you brought me back down to earth. You made me realise just how much I'd fucked up, and how I wasn't that person, couldn't be that person anymore."

He spoke those words with so much earnest and desperation that it physically hurt when he finally dared to look up at her and saw that she wasn't relieved, but dismayed.

"That's what I thought," she said glumly. "It's because of me."

"W… What?"

Michelle smiled sadly. "You really would have done anything and everything to get to Wilson. The only reason you're ashamed to admit that is me being here."

Even all these years later, she was still so much better at reading him than he realised. He had never thought of it like that, but here she was, saying it in plain English, and it made sense. There was truth to it. He didn't want to believe it. But there was no evidence to the contrary: he was just in denial. He had spent all of today trying to prove that he wasn't a terrorist, that he wasn't evil, that he wasn't working against her, and it had meant nothing. He realised just how stupid he had been. How could he have possibly thought that he was still worthy of her now? One day didn't erase six years and the potential future, no matter how much he had hoped it might.

"I-It doesn't matter any more," Tony weakly attempted to dismiss. "I never had the chance to become that person, and that's what matters."

"It does matter," Michelle countered, not with anger, but with disappointment. She looked like she might cry. "The person you are matters to me — with me around, but especially without me." 

Tony pathetically attempted to explain himself, but couldn't find the words, and she started walking towards the door.

"I'm sorry," he called. "Michelle, please, I-"

"Just go help Larry with positioning the snipers," she said, not facing him, her voice wobbling. "I'm going to go make sure Renee is ready."

Michelle wiped the few tears under her eyes hastily; she didn't need Renee worrying about her right now. When she came in to the small staging area, Janis was desperately trying to adjust every aspect of Renee's appearance, her eyes constantly flitting back to the photo of Bowden on the screen. Jack's belief was correct: they appeared more similar now that she was wearing her clothes and armour. Michelle was grateful the fabric was dark, since it mostly concealed the bloodstains she had left. She hadn't realised just how much she had pummelled Bowden before shooting her. When Renee turned around, even with the sunglasses covering her eyes, she looked scared. Michelle had never seen her like this before. Renee was pacing, her breaths heavy. When she finally took the glasses off, she was on the verge of tears.

"He's going to see right through it," Renee said worriedly. "He trusts Bowden with his life. She's his only liaison to the cabal. If he even has the slightest suspicion–"  

"I… I know, it's not ideal. And I'm sorry that it has to be you," Michelle said genuinely. "I– You need to know how much I appreciate this. You're taking a big risk for me and–"

Renee shook her head. "This isn't just about me being scared for my safety. I'm worried about how slim our chances are of doing this right. I can't– I don't want to disappoint you if we don't finish this today."

"You could never disappoint me, Renee," Michelle said emphatically.

Janis huffed, throwing her hands up. "I've done all that I can. I don't think we're going to get any closer to making you look like Bowden." 

She moved a mirror around so Michelle saw herself standing behind Renee. Without thinking, her hand went to Renee's shoulder to reassure her. Janis seemed to take the hint and left, muttering something about helping Larry get the body ready for transport.

"Most of all, I can't lose you," Renee said, turning to face Michelle. "When I took a bullet for you in that church, it was just me doing my job. But now…" She shook her head. "I can't let today tear us apart."

"It won't."

Renee took a shuddering breath. "I can't do this. I'm sorry. I can't do this."

Michelle squeezed her biceps. "Hey," she beckoned softly. "Yes, you can. I know you can. I believe in you."

Their eyes met, making Michelle realise, not for the first time today or even in this past year, that they had never been good at committing to being broken up.

Tony walked down the hall, going to retrieve some ammunition for his gun from the weaponry, trying to get in the right head-space. This was it. There was no going back. They were going to finish this for good.

But when Tony looked through the open door and caught sight of Michelle kissing Renee tenderly, the way she used to kiss him, he knew, without a doubt, that he and Michelle were finished for good, too.

Renee took a few deep breaths as she watched the cars pull up outside the warehouse. The bag holding Bowden's body was on the ground beside her. She hoped Wilson wouldn't want to look at it immediately, otherwise it would all be over and she would end up in her own body bag. The sun was slowly coming up over the horizon, so hopefully it wouldn't make the sunglasses look too questionable. She clenched her fist, praying that this went as planned. Michelle was in the tactical van with Larry, while Saul was interrogating Jonas Hodges for his information, in case it was of any use. It was a risk for Michelle to be so close to this, but she couldn't blame her for wanting to stay involved. Tony and Jack were leading two field teams to watch for any snipers that Wilson might position and take them out. Renee just hoped they would be about to do it without spooking him pre-emptively. She was also wearing a bug on the inside of her collar, on the off-chance Wilson said something to incriminate himself, but everyone knew that was unlikely.

A few bodyguards stepped out first, doing a sweep of the area. They frisked her, taking the pistols from her holster and the inside of her boot. She stayed very still, trying to seem cool, calm, and collected. She had known being checked was likely to happen, but it made her feel even more vulnerable. This operation was relying on the guards considering what was more likely: that Bowden has lost a little weight and maybe didn't sleep well, so she looked a little tired? Or that an FBI agent had the audacity to take her place with a half-assed impersonation. It made Renee aware that even if Wilson trusted his intermediary and security detail, he was still a very paranoid man. And, she supposed, the leader of a large conspiracy had every right to be.

More guards poured from another van and started moving to the surrounding rooftops and platforms. There was no sign of Wilson yet. He was probably waiting for confirmation.

"There's even more of them than we expected," Jack said in her comm, to her worry. "We won't move in until we've got eyes on Wilson. If he suspects anything, he'll bolt."

"Understood," she replied quietly, barely moving her lips.

Eventually, Wilson stepped out of the van with two more guards, still scanning the area. He looked a little different to his profile; he had clearly done a good job staying under the radar. He smiled when he met her gaze in a way that made her skin crawl. Her shoulders tensed as she noticed that Wilson's guards walked in a very particular formation, one that, essentially had him surrounded by people taller than him.

"Shit," Tony muttered. "None of us can get a clean line. You'll need to stall him. Get him close."

"Get him close?" she hissed.

Before she could ask Tony how the hell he intended for her to do that without getting killed, Wilson approached and embraced her, kissing her on the cheek while one hand crept lower than it should. In the van, Tony had mentioned that Bowden apparently had had something beyond a professional relationship with Wilson, so she leaned into his hug — difficult, considering she found him repulsive and wanted nothing more than to throw him to the ground or shoot him point blank.

"I've missed you," he said, going to remove her glasses, but she stopped him with a shaking hand.

"I have a headache," she fibbed, trying to emulate what she had heard from a recording of Bowden's voice that Tony had played for her. They would have attached a voice modulator to her diaphragm, but the guards would have seen it. "The light will bother me."

His eyes narrowed slightly, but to her relief, he nodded and stepped away. Her eyes kept flitting to the body bag. Wilson scrutinised the dried blood on her clothes. She looked down at it and waved her hand dismissively.

"Dessler put up a good fight," Renee said with a huff. "The bitch just wouldn't die. But she won't be a problem anymore."

There was a sickeningly gleeful smile on Wilson's face as he bent down to open the bag. His preoccupation with Michelle's apparent death meant he was really buying it, apparently. However, Renee wasn't ready to relax yet, and how could she?

Renee stopped him with a hand on her shoulder, trying to keep him bent down so Tony or the others could get a good shot. "W-Why don't we discuss the pathogen first?" she offered, hoping she wasn't being too pushy. "I think that's more important."

"You need to relax, Cara…" Wilson refuted with a hint of suspicion. "You don't look well."

Renee gulped, trying to calm her nerves. "I think I'm coming down with something."

Wilson paused his motion, and while she was relieved that he wasn't opening the bag yet, she was less and less convinced that she was in the clear. He looked up at her, now genuinely stunned.

"I can't believe I fell for it," he said simply, yanking off her sunglasses. "From a distance, you almost had it. But up close…" His hand caressed her cheek, and it made her nauseous, the other going up her chest and around her neck. "I can see what's going on here. Who sent you? FBI? CIA?" He tightened his grip. "Believe me when I say I will make sure you tell me everything."

"Sir," a guard called, having bent down and unzipped the bag in one quick motion, revealing Bowden's ashen face.

Wilson turned to look at it, but before Renee could panic about being a new entry on Wilson's list of people he wanted dead, blood sprayed onto her skin.

As soon as Wilson had finally exposed himself, his movement initially too close to Renee for comfort, Tony had levelled the rifle to precisely aim at his neck. At least one of his eyes could see clearly. The one that had been half-shut from the brawl with David's crew had improved slightly with ice, but his vision was hardly twenty-twenty right now. The only reason he was here was that he was apparently still one of the best snipers they had, something that gave him a small amount of pride to know. Everything happened so fast, but Larry barked an order for him to take the shot, so he did, just as Wilson turned to look at the body. Wilson collapsed on top of it and the two guards near him futilely tried to defend him before meeting their own demise.

"You've got hostiles headed up the stairs where you are, Tony," Larry said in his comm. "Bauer's taken out the others near the van."

Tony did his best to take cover before they arrived. They shot at him while he reloaded his pistol. To nobody's surprise, they were relentless. Tony wouldn't have expected any less. The urgent priority of keeping Renee safe was overriding the catharsis he had hoped he would feel by shooting the man behind some of the nations' worst tragedies over the last seven years, and, of course, the turmoil he and Michelle had gone through. Maybe it would come later, once he was no longer fighting for his life. At least he had had the privilege of taking the shot. The only person who had deserved it more than him was Michelle. Still, to some extent, it felt like fate that Wilson had ended up in his line of sight, instead of those of the agents on the other rooftops. 

It took a while for him to find an appropriate gap to return fire; the hostiles timed their shots very well. If he didn't shoot back, they would probably opt for hand-to-hand combat or all charge towards him. Then he would really be outnumbered. Tony fished through the bag of Wilson's sniper, whom he had killed before, and found a supply of grenades. He deftly pulled the pin out and threw it towards them, not wasting a second in resuming his cover. The blast completely overpowered the speaker of his comm. Someone was yelling through it, but he couldn't tell.

Tony tried to look behind him and see whether he had succeeded, but the smoke shrouded his view. 

As he went to speak into his comm and update Larry and whoever else was on the line, he froze at the sound of someone who absolutely should not have come up here.

"Tony!" Michelle shouted.

What the hell was she doing? She was supposed to stay in the van. She had barely been able to stand since coming back from Starkwood. She wasn't supposed to have been in the line of fire, but, as he had already seen, this was a fight he just couldn't win with her.

He called out and ran towards her, not giving a damn about the hostiles who might be there anymore. They both coughed through the settling smoke, an unhelpful reminder of the White House explosion and that fateful day. But before he could say anything, she was hugging him fiercely. He was certain that she hadn't forgotten about their painful discussion before, and he hadn't, either, but right now they were, once again, too focused on the overwhelm of almost losing each other yet again to get into it.

"Are you okay?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"We got Wilson," she stated proudly after a beat, although her voice wobbled. "He's in our custody. Finally." He couldn't imagine how this must feel for her. "And Hodges is willing to cooperate, so we have the evidence we need to detain him."

"That's good. That's… that's really good," he agreed warmly. "Is Renee alright?" He hadn't exactly gotten the chance to check after taking out Wilson and the two accompanying men.

"She's fine. Backup moved in quickly on the ground," Michelle assured. "I– As soon as I heard the explosion, I had to see if you were okay." Her voice broke again.

She was insane, she really was, and he loved her for it more than she would ever know, but he could understand the underlying urgency. He could only hope days like this would be behind them from now on. They had been through more than enough. They deserved to move forward, although the future had too many questions, so Tony decided not to think about it, instead motioning with his head and going to suggest they walk back to the staging area.

Before he could open his mouth, her eyes widened, focused on something past him. As he went to look at what had caught her gaze, he felt her shove him out of the way, almost knocking him to the ground. Despite having heard non-stop gunshots before, the sound of these two in succession made his heart stop. The smoke started to clear, allowing him to see fresh blood pouring from the forehead of one of the hostiles he hadn't killed successfully with the grenade. Something warm had splashed onto him. More blood, but not his. Michelle turned around, revealing a growing crimson stain on her waist. 

"No…" Tony gasped.

She didn't even acknowledge it, already halfway to the ground, so drained from everything today, leading him to close the gap between them frantically, the ache in his ribs be damned, so he could catch her before she cracked her skull open on the concrete.

Tony yelled into his comm for medical help, immediately taking off Michelle's jacket so he could use it to compress the bleeding. He lifted her slightly, finding an exit wound, which was a relief, but she was still losing a lot of blood rapidly. His mind unhelpfully reminded him that this was how she had looked before she died in his arms. Even though she obviously survived, at that moment, that was the conclusion he had drawn. He had barely felt her pulse. There had been so much blood, and she had been so limp. Tony tried to use the anxious tension in his body to focus on better staunching the blood flow.

"Michelle..." he bleated. "You… you saved my life."

"Of course I did," Michelle rasped, still able to convey that he shouldn't be so surprised, even with the weakness of her voice.

Her eyes were fluttering. Tony used his other hand to tap at her cheek and keep her awake. Michelle then groaned in pain in a way that made his heart ache. Even if she had been using pure adrenaline to get up here, it didn't change the fact that she had been through an ordeal, physically and emotionally, today, so trying to stay conscious was a much greater effort for her than it should be. She met his gaze, her expression soft. He kissed her without even thinking about it and she feebly kissed him back.

"I'm sorry," Michelle whispered. "For everything."

He shook his head. God, she was mustering all her energy just to apologise to him. "No. Don't– We're going to get you help, okay?"

Voices from behind told him to move away so they could lift Michelle onto a stretcher. They placed an oxygen mask on her face, and Tony explained what had happened. He followed them down the stairs, shaking and very aware of her blood on his skin. Renee appeared, too, looking just as worried with a few blood stains to match from Wilson's hostiles. The paramedics started preparing to get her into the ambulance, and they stood on either side of her, both babbling endless reassurances. Michelle's eyes kept tracking between them, like she wasn't sure who to look at. But Tony wouldn't let something as trivial as his jealousy come to mind right now.

One paramedic told them both to step back, citing there wasn't enough room for them both to come along, clearly knowing they each wanted to be with her desperately and wouldn't be able to decide, not with the urgent time-frame. They could meet her at the FBI.

"You're going to be okay, Michelle," Tony said for the umpteenth time. Her eyes were half-mast but directed towards Renee.

"I love you," she mumbled.

"I love you…"

"Too," Renee finished, and Tony registered that she had said the same thing he had.

Tony looked at Renee, and she met his eyes, awkwardly. He replayed that last moment in his mind. Michelle had been looking at Renee, but he had been the last one to speak to her. There was no way to tell who that had been meant for. It only reminded Tony that even if it had been for him, it wasn't going to change her mind about who she wanted to be with. 

Renee stepped out of the locker room, having now scrubbed Wilson's blood off her and changed into clean clothes. As she walked back into the hall and saw Tony coming out of the men's locker room, it appeared he had done the same. There was an awkward moment, neither of them able to meet each other's gaze. They hadn't said a word to each other since the paramedics had loaded Michelle into the ambulance. She was now in recovery; the bullet had gone right through, so with painkillers and bed-rest, she would be okay, thankfully.

When she made her way back to the bullpen, with Tony not far behind, Janis called for her. She looked nervous.

"What?" Renee asked.

Janis put her lip between her teeth. "I need you to know that if I had been in charge, I would have been smart enough not to let this happen."

Renee furrowed her brow.

"Larry, Bauer, and Berenson are debriefing the president about Wilson's arrest. But we still need debriefs from everyone who was at the warehouse earlier ASAP. And because Almeida will probably have to be in custody after this... he needs to be debriefed now, and you're the only one available."

Well, that wasn't going to be uncomfortable at all.

"Like I said: if I'd had anything to do with it, I would have made sure someone else was assigned instead of you–"

"It's fine, Janis," Renee said, a little too insistently. "I'll debrief him. Thanks for the heads up."

She nodded. "I've booked Conference Room C for you. Good luck."

Renee grabbed her laptop and some pen and paper, then approached Tony, who was standing and leaning against a wall towards the back. She supposed there was nothing better for him to do, since whatever small semblance of authority he had had before was no longer valid. She realised it would be quite hard to do that, to go from being treated with the same level of respect as a fellow agent to being lumped in with the rest of the terrorists arrested today. Even though that was kind of his own fault, after everything he had helped with today, she didn't quite want to believe he entirely deserved it.

"Berenson wants me to debrief you while he's speaking to the president," Renee explained, and he nodded, following her into the room.

They took their seats, and both tried to take themselves back to almost twenty-four hours ago. It helped that Tony had been on the other side of debriefs before, as he thankfully kept things succinct. He clarified points that could be misconstrued or used in court before she even had to ask. Tony was very matter-of-fact, but she noticed him struggle when he spoke about Emerson. No matter what kind of person he was, she could sympathise with some of the pain he was feeling. When they got to talking about the White House, Renee had to remind herself to concentrate as her mind cruelly replayed the images of Michelle and Tony in each other's arms after the explosion. Usually, for a debrief over such a long period, she would take breaks for her and the witness's sake, but it seemed they both just wanted to get this over with.

Before they knew it, they were going over Wilson's incapacitation.

"What happened after you sedated Wilson and the two guards?" Renee asked.

"Agent Moss informed me through my comm that hostiles were headed my way," Tony started. "They arrived on the roof and started shooting. I tried to shoot back but couldn't do so safely. I threw a grenade I had obtained from one of the other dead hostiles to disarm them."

That made sense now, but from where she had been, she hadn't been able to tell who had the upper hand. Neither had Michelle, which was why she had apparently bolted out of the van towards Tony as soon as she had heard the explosion.

"Michelle called my name. I went over to her. The smoke made it hard to see, but I knew it was her based on her voice," Tony explained. "I… I noticed she was looking at something behind me. I couldn't tell what it was until she pushed me out the way. Two shots were fired. One of the hostiles from earlier hadn't been dead and tried to shoot me. By stepping forward, Michelle took the bullet and shot him at the same time. I called for help and did my best to compress the bleeding until the medics arrived."

Tony wasn't quite stoic during this part of his testimony, either, and Renee found herself shaking a little as she typed it down. Michelle had taken a bullet for him. Michelle had gone running towards an explosion without a clue what the threat was, all to make sure Tony was okay. Michelle cared about him so much. It wasn't like Renee didn't already know that, but something about physically seeing their interactions today made that concept hurt in a new way. It made everything that had happened between her and Michelle today pale in comparison. Michelle had kept her in the dark about so much. Although they had kissed for the first time in months today, Renee was suddenly aware of the idea that they might have just been out of pity. One had been while giving her CPR, that didn't count, the second time hadn't been initiated by Michelle, so that hardly counted, either, and the one they had shared before leaving to meet Wilson… well, she had been scared. Perhaps it had just been a way to comfort her. A way to say goodbye.

Renee realised she had been delusional. As if Michelle was going to choose her over her husband. Even though there were lots of reasons Tony should go to prison for the rest of his life, Michelle would fight tooth and nail to get him a reduced sentence, work release, house arrest, or something of that nature. She would fight because he had been in prison before and because she would testify to his good acts, so they negated the bad. She would fight because she loved him and this would be the way to make up for how her actions had hurt him, albeit inadvertently. After years of processing immeasurable grief, she and Tony would be together again. They could have their family. They could have what they wanted again. Renee would learn to get over that. She would be grateful for the years they had shared and be a good friend to her because she wouldn't be bitter about it. No matter how much she was going to see Michelle and Tony and wish that she was there instead of him, she wouldn't let that stop her from being a friend in whatever way Michelle wanted her to be — if Michelle wanted her at all, that was.

She had stopped typing some time ago, just staring at the screen and feeling her chest hurt. Tony warily said her name, and Renee fought the urge to cry.

"Look, I don't exactly know what's going to happen to you after today," Renee said, clearing her throat to harden her voice. "All I know is that Michelle loves you, and she'll make sure you can be together again. But let me say one thing." She met his eyes. "If you break her heart again, I swear to God I'll make you regret it."

He looked hurt by that, but not in the way she had expected.

"Who said Michelle and I were going to be together?" he asked quietly, narrowing his eyes at her slightly.

She narrowed her eyes in response. "Isn't it obvious?"

He shook his head slowly. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm still probably going to end up in prison, no matter how hard she tries. And now that this case is more or less over… there's nothing stopping you and Michelle from making amends. I'm sure she'd be a lot happier that way."

Did he seriously think that Michelle had given up on the thought of reconciling their marriage? Was he insane?

Before the conversation could get any more tense, Janis knocked on the door and stuck her head in. They both looked at her, and she bit her lip. "Whenever you're ready, Berenson wants to talk to you, Tony."

"He can go now. We're done here," Renee said, and Tony didn't seem to have any objections to that.

Michelle woke with a throbbing pain in her side, the shadow of a doctor standing over her. It took her a moment to adjust to the light. She was in FBI Medical. She had been shot. That was about all she could remember. 

"I've been told not to give you painkillers yet, sorry," the doctor said apologetically. "But you're very lucky, Agent Dessler. The bullet went right through. A couple of inches to the left, and it would have hit your spleen. Assuming nothing changes and there's no sign of infection, you'll be released by the evening."

She nodded. "Thank you."

Saul was standing at the back. It looked like he had just come in. The doctor relayed the information to him when he asked, and he took a seat by her bed as the doctor left. Seeing him there gave her deja vu. The first time they had met, she had been aching, covered in burn scars and fresh out of a coma, and he had been the first person to speak to her other than the doctors. She could still remember that day so well. She could remember hearing his voice when he told her that Tony had been killed at CTU. She remembered the way her heart had shattered when she had realised she was no longer carrying the new life she and Tony had been so happy about…

"How are you doing?" he asked.

Just trying to adjust her position and sit up caused a lot of discomfort. "I'm alright."

Saul must have noticed her wince because he smiled pitifully. "I meant more emotionally than physically. I'm the reason the doctors haven't given you the good stuff yet: I need to talk to you, and I need to do it now. Rebecca's been awake for almost two days straight. She's coming here to pass some classified intel, then I'm going to go back to Langley, and she's going home."

As Michelle tried to recall what had happened before being shot, it came back in a whirlwind and then she realised it was over. Yes, there would still be a matter of detaining the remaining cabal members, but with Wilson arrested and the evidence from both Bowden's laptop and Hodges, he wouldn't be able to hurt anyone again. She didn't have to live her life with such fear and secrecy anymore. Sure, she wouldn't be naive. But with Wilson out of the picture, it meant soon enough, she would be able to sleep at night again. Michelle knew it might take a while for it to hit her. However, in the meantime, she wouldn't disregard what had happened today.

"It just doesn't even feel real. We have the man who's tried to hunt me down and tear this country apart in custody. And we have enough evidence to keep him there." She wasn't surprised to find tears welling in her eyes. "After… after seven years, it's done."

He nodded. "You've made a lot of sacrifices and done some hard work. Taylor wants to give you a Medal of Honour."

She felt herself blush a little. It was one thing to feel the relief and satisfaction for herself, but being recognised for it certainly felt a little more special. It wasn't that she particularly cared about the impact of this case on her career, but it felt nice to have someone tell her it had all been worth it.

"Bauer also put in a good, but honest, word about Tony," Saul added. "And Taylor was receptive to it."

At the back of her mind, she had worried about Tony going to prison. No matter how much, objectively, she believed his actions were deserving of punishment, she didn't want him to go through that again. She had put him through enough. More than that, there were better ways for him to spend his time to make up for what he had done while working for Emerson.

"What did she offer him?"

"A work release option. He'll basically be at the CIA's beck-and-call for as long as he's physically and mentally able to work." He grimaced slightly. "I don't think Tony was thrilled about it, if I'm being frank, even though I told him it would be at my discretion and that we could negotiate the kind of work he wants. Given his long history of service, I think consulting would be best, which, uh, I see the irony in, given that's what got you into this mess in the first place." He laughed nervously. "But I guess he needs some time to think about it, regardless. He'll have to stay here in holding until he decides within the next week."

It all sounded fair. Really, it was perfect and offered flexibility. They weren't just trying to get rid of him. They were trying to give him a chance at redemption that most people in his position wouldn't be offered. She had to wonder if they would have been this lenient had she not been around or married to him.

"And if he doesn't take it?" Michelle asked.

Saul sighed. "He's looking at minimum ten years in solitary."

Her eyes closed. He had barely handled a few months there, yet she had the inkling he might actually be considering it. She needed to talk to him before he made a stupid decision and destroyed what little chance they had of making things right. But of course, this would inevitably lead into the discussion of who she wanted a future with: him or Renee. And this was a decision she had hoped to have more time for — although she had been subconsciously mulling it over ever since she had found out he was alive. She wouldn't make it in haste, but she wouldn't let Tony push her away from him again, either. She had to tell him how she felt. Renee, too, but she wasn't about to incarcerate herself voluntarily out of self-hatred. And she knew the conversation with Renee was going to be a lot smoother. Yes, they had the issue of her concealing the CIA's true intentions, but Renee, hopefully, would ultimately understand that, now that she had all the context. There was a rational compromise they could come to. It wouldn't erase how she had hurt her with their sudden breakup, but it wouldn't mean they were over, most likely. As for her and Tony… well, those issues were a lot more emotionally complex, and she wouldn't deny her part in starting off this twisted chain of events, but she prayed they could come to some sort of agreement too. She didn't want to lose either of them, even if she only pursued a relationship with one.

"For the record…" Saul said with a sigh. "I'm sorry about the things I said about Agent Walker. I've seen first-hand that she's exceptional and has a bright future ahead of her. I can also see that you care about each other a lot. I'm sorry for doubting your judgement."

"I appreciate that," Michelle responded with a nod. "But I know you were just trying to protect me, so I get it. Thank you for having my back all these years." She smiled a little. She had been angry at him a lot at the beginning, but he had never compromised on his promise to keep her safe and help her solve the conspiracy, almost to a fault. "Seriously."

"You're welcome. You're one of the best agents I've ever had, but more than that, you're also a good person," he said warmly. "I've never seen someone with such fierce loyalty to both their loved ones and serving their country. Most people in this line of work are married to the job. You've found a balance."

That meant more to her than he probably realised. She had always considered herself more on the side of the latter; it was basically why she and Tony had split the first time, and why there was so much tension between them now. But she supposed she had relearnt those boundaries with Renee in a different way. Michelle had to believe that she could continue that balance, as Saul had put it, in the future, regardless of who she ended up with.

"And I know you've probably got a much bigger decision weighing on your mind right now, so I'm going to let you go," Saul concluded, going to the door. "But you've done some incredible work today and you should be proud of yourself."

As he said this, Michelle felt a final surge of urgency. It was now or never. She couldn't keep this in any longer. They had to talk. 

Michelle called out to Saul, "Tell Tony I need to see him."

The five minutes between Saul leaving and Tony arriving felt like decades. Michelle tried to rehearse how she would start the conversation, but she knew the minute she saw his face, she would forget it all. She steeled her nerves as the door opened. She was going to tell him she loved him, and that she wouldn't let him go to prison. But as for his questions about beyond that, about what her intentions for the future were, she still didn't know what she wanted. That could wait. She just had to save him. It was going to end in tears one way or another and she knew that, so long as it didn't end in anything other than Tony promising that he wasn't going to punish himself by refusing the CIA's offer.

Tony's expression was soft, but unreadable. "How are you feeling?"

The lack of painkillers really wasn't helping, but she refused to numb herself through this. She needed to face it head-on. And, unfortunately, her gunshot wound and other physical ailments wouldn't hurt nearly as much as her heart would after this conversation was over. "Not too bad," she lied.

"Saul said you wanted to talk to me," he said warily, like he already knew where this was headed.

Michelle nodded, and he took a seat.

"Saul told me about what Taylor offered you. I wanted to know what you thought."

He wouldn't even look at her. "I don't really feel like being the government's bitch anymore, Michelle. I'll do my time. I deserve it." His voice was cold, the way it had been after his release from prison. She wouldn't have it.

"Did he explain that you'd probably just be consulting like I am? Regular hours, good money… exactly what we wanted when we left CTU?"

Even that word seemed to strike a nerve for him. He probably had a lot of opinions about her consulting work. 

"No, Michelle: that was what you wanted," he said bitterly, and although there was anger and disgust when he looked up at her, she also recognised that his eyes were bright with tears.

"Look…" She took a breath, resisting the urge to scream into one of the pillows beside her. Every feeling she had buried deep or thought she had gotten over was rising to the surface, and she didn't think she could contain any of them. "We have a lot to talk about. But the main reason I brought you in here was to ask that you consider the CIA contract. Please. Jack vouched for you to get this."

"I didn't ask him to," Tony brushed off.

He looked indifferent, and that was what really confirmed he was pushing his own emotions down, too. She knew how grateful he had been to Jack for getting Palmer to reduce his sentence the first time, so it was probably bringing up at lot of memories. Her, too. She remembered how terrified they had both been in the early days of his incarceration, the looming fear that they had the right to execute him, the equally looming fear that she might forever see him behind a pane of glass. Michelle realised she was just as terrified of losing him now. Even if he got a minimal sentence, she doubted he would want anything to do with her after that. And, she supposed, she wouldn't blame him, as much as that hurt. But she wasn't going to let him suffer again.

"Why are you pushing me away again?" Michelle asked, unsurprised to find her voice breaking as more memories from their divorce came to mind. "I'm not falling for it this time. We're hurting, and we've been through a lot. But we're not going to be able to work through it if you lock yourself up." 

He was silent, so she continued, needing to implore how much she cared about him, with, "What was today all for then, huh? What was the point? You don't get to walk away from me now. I fought for so long on this case because I needed the truth, I needed to know you weren't a terrorist."

Tony laughed derisively. "But you think that anyway, don't you? You're never going to get over that. You never got over me risking everything to save you from Saunders, so why the hell would you be okay with what I did voluntarily, out of my own grief?"

"Are you saying this because you think I can't get over it or because you can't, Tony?"

Tony hardened his voice. "Then look me in the eye and tell me you forgive me for everything."

"Do you forgive me?" Michelle asked genuinely. "Or were you just saying that back there out of pity?"

"I'm surprised you even think you need it." The meanness to his voice was back again. He hadn't answered the question, but, then again, she hadn't answered his, either. "You said yourself that you don't regret agreeing to help the CIA in the first place."

She let out a breath. "You're right: I don't. But I don't hold myself entirely responsible for what happened, because the fact was there were plenty of other things that put us at risk. Right down to getting Jack into hiding, not that I regret that, and I know you don't, either. How do you know this wouldn't have happened if the Chinese had found out Jack was alive? We were both federal agents. We both made enemies."

That logic was the only way she'd ever made peace with it. No, her decision hadn't helped, but she wasn't the only one to blame. She hadn't put the bomb in her car.

"But you made more, Michelle. You were careless and chose to add to that when we were preparing for a family." Her heart ached as he said that word with so much pain.

"I was misinformed," Michelle said thickly. "Nobody, nobody, could have known how deep this ran. And look at what's happened today. I don't want to think about the kind of world we would have raised our son in if I'd done nothing."

"Yeah, because this is so much better." His cheek twitched as he looked at her. "Is this what you want? For us to have kids and put a giant Band-Aid over everything? Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but this isn't going to disappear. We'll have kids, and we'll fuck them up because we're going to have this argument every day and be miserable." He narrowed his eyes. "But you'll feel better, won't you? You'll feel like you got back what we lost, and that you've fixed everything. You'll feel like the hero."

There was that word again: hero. She hadn't done this for any kind of recognition or praise, and he knew that. Tony projecting this far made her doubt the situation so much more. Maybe he wasn't acting like this to push her away. Maybe this was really how he felt, and she was an idiot for thinking he held anything but contempt towards her.

"God, if you hate me so much, then come out and say it, Tony." She gritted through her teeth. "I know I fucked up bad this time, so you don't need to sugar-coat–"

"Stop saying that. I have never hated you. I hate some of the decisions you made. I hate that you didn't trust me to talk about them. I hate what's happened to us. But I know that deep down, you were doing this to protect our family — at least, trying to. You didn't do any of these things out of greed or for your own gain. And that generosity is why I love you so much. It's what's always inspired me to be a better person."

His use of present, not past, tense for love, wasn't lost on her. But she wouldn't let it give her false hope. She wasn't so naive to believe that love would be enough to save them.

"Just tell me what you want, please. I'm tired of–"

"I want you to be happy!" Tony snapped. "And we both know that's not going to happen, since I'm clearly not the kind of person you want to be with anymore."

Michelle really regretted saying those things before they had left to capture Wilson. She should have lived with the curiosity and asked those questions later. What difference would it have made? If anything, it had just made them more emotional before the mission. It hadn't resolved anything. She knew why she had done it, though. Once upon a time, they had had more than their fair share of arguments about never wanting to tell each other things before they went into the field, things that might mess with their focus. It had led to those things building up and creating tension between them, followed by the explosion of an argument bigger than it ever would have been, had they brought it up at the time. Since leaving CTU, they had made an effort to stop that from happening. So, with her learned habit of telling him everything as it came up, she had brought something up when neither of them had been in a good position to discuss it.

"I didn't say that!" Michelle protested. "I said that it's important to me and that I care about knowing the truth, but that does not mean that I'm giving up on us. I… I was trying to process what you told me. I was shocked, and I didn't want to react in a way that would affect you too much. That didn't mean that I wasn't interested in discussing it. That's what now is for. We can talk about everything, and get it out in the open so we can move on."

"You've already moved on," Tony spat harshly.

She exhaled sharply. "I told you Renee and I are over–"

"I saw you kiss her, Michelle, alright?" he refuted, cutting her off. 

"Because she was scared. It's no different to how we kissed when the roof fell in–"

"I don't care why you did it. All I know is that you did it and you meant it, so why don't you stop making up excuses and admit the truth? You love her and not me. Don't pity me."

"Why do these things have to be mutually exclusive?" She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Why can't you believe that I love both of you?"

That seemed to affect him slightly, the plea that he still had a place in her heart, and that he always would. But she knew how stubborn he was, so he wasn't just going to believe it without trying to refute her some more.

"Even if that's true," his voice became quieter, but grittier, "you don't deserve to wake up next to someone you have to justify loving. It's because I love you that I'm walking away and making this easier for you. You deserve better than me. You deserve someone with no baggage. You deserve someone where the happiness isn't going to wear off."

"What, so you think I'm just going to give up and take the 'easy' option? Renee is important to me, I'm not denying that. But you're the one I married. You're the one I promised, twice, to spend the rest of my life with. I'm not letting that go."

"But we aren't the people we were all those years ago. Hitting the reset button isn't going to work this time."

Somehow, she almost wished he was still yelling at her, because seeing how suddenly resigned he had become made her feel so much worse. He wasn't fighting her, which meant he wasn't being receptive. He was going to let his self-hatred win.

"I'm just trying to spare you from heartbreak again, Michelle."

Why did things have to be so complicated? Why were their lives filled with so much turmoil and fear and loss, to the point where they couldn't have a conversation without feeling like someone was ripping their hearts out? Michelle couldn't fight her tears anymore and let out a sob, clasping her hand over her mouth. She didn't want to cry right now. She wanted to fight for them. This wasn't about making a decision about who to be with, this was about healing them so they both could move on, with or without each other. It was going to hurt. It was going to be rough. But she wasn't going to let him give up.

Tony stood and started to walk away. When he made it to the door, she decided to give him one last reminder. 

"To have and to hold. From this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part," Michelle recited, her voice hoarse, making him freeze. "You're saying those words don't mean anything to you anymore?"

He shook his head. "I can't do this, Michelle." His voice broke as he turned to look at her again. "One minute you're saying how disappointed you are in me for what I've done, the next you're begging me not to leave and saying you love me. Which is it?" he demanded. "Tell me the truth so I can find a way to live my life."

"I do love you," Michelle said quickly. "And even… even if we don't stay together, I don't want to lose you," she pleaded. "I'm not making all of my decisions now, but all I'm saying is that I don't want you to go anywhere, especially not to prison."

"But I'm never going to be her, am I?" Tony sniffled, slumping his shoulders. "Renee is everything you could ever want, so I don't need you to keep me around because you feel sorry for me. I'll be fine on my own, alright?"

Hearing him say that reminded her that in all of this, she had forgotten about Emerson and how he had been there for Tony, like Renee had been there for her. Except, while she was selfishly thinking about which of the two people, who both loved and cared about her so much, she should opt to be with, Tony was left with her or nobody. Yes, he could find somebody else, but after losing so much, that wasn't going to be easy. Michelle knew all too well that love like this couldn't be replaced, love that had been fiercely built on a desire to protect each other and survive despite the odds, despite every curveball life might throw at them. What she had had with Renee and what Tony had had with Emerson were different. Equal, but different. 

"I wish Emerson was still here for you," Michelle said honestly. "I know you're hurting. And I'm sorry because you didn't deserve to lose him after what you did to make things right today." 

He scoffed, and a tear rolled down his cheek. "If he were here, he would be in prison, Michelle. He would hate me, and he would be right to do so."

"You don't know that," she said. "I believe he loved you, truly, and that he wouldn't stay mad forever."

"You didn't know him," he defended.

There he went with the self-loathing again, and if it wasn't for the current state of her body, she wanted nothing more than to shake his shoulders to snap him out of it and make him realise he was worth loving. Maybe her claim that Emerson would have forgiven him had just been insulting. Michelle remembered reading in Emerson's profiling that he valued loyalty. Maybe it was wrong to believe that he would have understood after Tony had betrayed him. Maybe she should consider the idea that she loved him and forgave him more than anybody else. It did not change his loss, though. No matter what kind of influence Emerson had had, Tony had still lost somebody close to him.

"Regardless, I know he helped you to heal. He was all you had for a long time. Just like how Renee was there for me."

Tony shook his head. "It's not the same, though. Not really." He didn't say it defensively, but solemnly. "David brought out the darkness in me. He made me think about every time the government screwed me — screwed us — over and helped me to channel it into terrible things so I could feel better. The more I did it, the more it grew, the less I found myself justifying it. But Renee…" He smiled wanly. "I can see that she's brought out the light in you. She helped you to heal. She helped you to be better. And you've done things to keep people safe. You've done things to counter my destruction. You've done amazing things, and with her, you'll do so many more. Which is what you want, right? I… I saw the way you looked at her before you blacked out. And I saw the way she looked at you." 

"I-I took a bullet for you," Michelle protested weakly. "I saved your–"

"But I know you. You would have done that for anyone," he pointed out, and she unfortunately agreed with him. "That's just who you are, Michelle. What difference does it make if it was me?" He sighed. "You told Renee you loved her before you blacked out. You were bleeding out, you were in pain, but you still remembered to tell her that. How am I supposed to compete?" 

"Wait, what?"

She still didn't remember much of what had happened after pushing Tony out of the way, and certainly not anything she had said. She just remembered their faces, both incredibly worried. She remembered feeling Tony put pressure on her wound, desperate to keep her alive. She remembered Renee holding her hand, desperate to assure her. But it was all just a blur, overshadowed by the excruciating pain that she could still feel. "I told her I loved her? Are… are you sure I didn't say it to both of you?"

He shrugged a little. "Well, even though I was doing most of the talking, you were looking at Renee. We were on opposite sides of the gurney. It was hard to tell."

"I don't... I don't remember, okay?" Michelle sighed. "All I know is that I love you, and that I also love Renee, but if I lose either of you, it will destroy me."

As Michelle readied herself for Tony to argue again that she had said it to Renee, and that she didn't love him, to her surprise, he got up and left, slamming the door in his wake. They had been awake for over twenty-four hours. They were both exhausted. Tony had obviously decided that he had said what he had needed to say, and that the ball was in her court now.

She closed her eyes, leaning her head back with a sigh. The tears that came now were silent. She had hoped this conversation might give her some clarity, but all it had done was make the confusing whirlwind of emotions escalate more. Michelle tried to think back to the conversations she had had with Renee today, too. She had hurt her; she knew that. Did she even deserve either of them? Michelle stopped herself from going down a familiar rabbit hole of guilt. It felt incredibly stupid to think about the fact that she had taken down a huge government-level conspiracy and prevented multiple terrorist attacks, ran into dangerous situations without so much as a thought, mostly on her own with no guidance, but it was the question of who she wanted to spend her life with that was breaking her.

In any case, it was her choice, not just in the sense that it was up to her to decide, but also in the sense that she would have to face the bulk of the consequences.

As Renee entered her office and took a seat, she couldn't help but acknowledge that it felt like she hadn't been able to take a breather all day. Just the act of tipping her head back against the chair made her want to collapse with exhaustion. Larry had said she could go get some rest soon; he and Berenson were just trying to complete what they could for today, so most of the personnel on duty could get some much needed and deserved sleep. Trying to do so after an intense day — although these past twenty-four hours had been the craziest she had ever experienced — usually resulted in sleeping like a rock or lying in bed, her body tired, but her mind too wired.

But the biggest thing hitting her right now was that... she had contributed very little today.

Sure, she had been in the field. She had chased Juma's boat down like her life had depended on it. She had helped with the attempted recovery of the bioweapon at the port. Hell, she had really put her life on the line by impersonating Bowden. But a lot of those things had only been consequences of the findings of the CIA, those former CTU agents, Jack, and Tony. The FBI... had practically been field backup today. It wouldn't have made a difference if they had called DCPD or SWAT instead. They hadn't done much. If it hadn't been for the others, they never would have gotten this far.

She had had to watch two of her colleagues get arrested for treason, she had been interrogated, she had been lied to, and she just hadn't felt like she had had any control over it. Michelle had been understanding — when there had been a slow point for a conversation, at least — but it still felt like one big joke. She didn't resent Michelle for her choices, including the sudden and unexplained end of their relationship. She understood completely, and didn't think she would have done anything differently in her position.

Renee took her badge from her pocket, holding it in both hands and turning it around, watching the way the desk light reflected off the gold insignia. She had served the Bureau with her heart and soul. She had believed that it was immune to corruption, that with the way Larry ran things, the agents here were all as morally rigid and law-abiding as her. But she had been proven wrong today. So, she had to ask herself if anything she had ever believed since Quantico was true or relevant. The major players in the conspiracy might have been detained successfully, but who could say more weren't out there, or that another conspiracy wasn't already brewing?

At the back of her mind, she was aware that spiralling so existentially was not a great idea when she was this exhausted, but she couldn't stop herself. Did any of her work matter? Would it matter in the future? Or had the unleashing of this monster just proven that the government was as useless and fallible as those people had claimed? If the CIA alone had handled everything, she might have been inclined to try playing for the other team. But Tony had been the one with the missing pieces. Only by going completely outside the government — not even just outside, but in blatant opposition to the government — had he found the head of the conspiracy. He had been driven by personal motivation. What would he have discovered if he had researched even more broadly? It all just made her head spin. She had never felt so lost in her life.

There was a knock at her door, making her look up. Jack. She offered him a small smile.

"Hey," he said, his expression softening as he noticed how pensive she was. "You alright?"

She nodded, although he could probably tell she was lying. "How's the interrogation going?"

He shrugged a little. "Wilson's denying everything, even though he's being pushed pretty hard. The CIA has enough evidence from Tony to hold him and send him to prison, but his information is valuable."

That only made her feel more dismayed. "Is there something I can do? Something that the FBI can do? We can push him to his limit. I couldn't live with myself if the man who destroyed Michelle's life got away with anything."

Jack seemed to look at her with pity, taking a seat across from her.

"You know how to play this game, I don't," she went on. "What am I supposed to do to help?"

"I can't tell you what to do."

Before she could protest and acknowledge her own desperation, that she had such a need to be useful here because of Wilson's role in hurting Michelle, he went on, with, "I've been wrestling with this one my whole life. I see fifteen people held hostage on a bus, and everything else goes out the window. I will do whatever it takes to save them — and I mean, whatever it takes. I guess maybe I thought..." he chuckled grimly, "if I saved them, I could save myself."

"Do you regret anything that you did today?"

He paused for a moment, but then shook his head, laughing through his nose. "No. But then again, I don't work for the FBI."

Her brow furrowed. "I don't understand."

"You took an oath. You made a promise to uphold the law."

She had, but promises could be broken. Jack had taken an oath once upon a time, too, albeit a different one. But he worked on his own principles. Even then, he wasn't really tied to a particular ideology. He just had his mind, body, and soul. He just wanted to help people and do that in whatever way he could, rules and boundaries be damned.

"When you cross that line, it always starts off with a small step. Before you know it, you're running as fast as you can in the wrong direction just to justify what you started in the first place. These laws were written by much smarter men than me. And in the end, I know that these laws have to be more important than the fifteen people on the bus. I know that's right. In my mind..." He sighed. "I know that's right."

Renee nodded, a sad but wistful smile creeping across his face.

"I just don't think my heart could have ever lived with that. I guess the only advice I can give you is... try to make choices that you can live with."

She took a moment to digest those words. She didn't know how to respond, how to probe him further for an answer. But he was right. He couldn't give her an answer. She needed to make this decision on her own.

Jack looked like he wanted to say something but Berenson soon came in to call him over for something, so she let him go do whatever he had to, taking her back to where she had been before: alone with her whirlwind of thoughts.

Maybe she needed to walk away to understand. Maybe the reason she was spiralling so much was that the fountain pen she had gotten as a gift when she had graduated from Quantico was in her peripheral vision, that her badge felt so heavy in her hands, that she could see the FBI insignia on the back of her windbreaker hanging on a hook behind her door. Maybe she just needed someone to talk some sense into her. But she felt like she was at a crossroads. Could she really keep working for the FBI, knowing what she did now? Did she have enough faith in herself to use her integrity as her strength, elevate others, and make a point of proving that the FBI could and would be better, that rules and the law were necessary, that the core of her soul still aligned with its mission? Or did she need to take the time to learn more about herself? Did she need to re-evaluate everything and put herself on a different path, or no path at all? Did she need to remove all rules and restraints so she could really, truly, understand who she was and what she wanted in life?

It wasn't about making a choice that seemed easy to her at this moment, that seemed safe, that could give her solace. It wasn't about being impulsive, either. If she walked away now, she didn't know if she would come back, and that, that, meant one thing: she had to make a choice she could live with.

What should Renee do?

• Walk away ⇥ Go to Chapter 24-i
• Stay at the FBI ⇥ Go to Chapter 24-ii

As Renee walked down the hall, she saw Tony come out of the medical ward, hastily wiping tears away. She was pretty sure they had just had that conversation. It made her pause. Was this really the time to discuss her personal life with Michelle? Michelle had just had a gruelling talk with her husband about their futures and the choices they had made. She would not be the highest of Michelle's priorities right now. God, what was she thinking? The last thing Michelle probably wanted was for her to come in crying about her career when she was preoccupied with reconciling the feelings in her heart, particularly about Tony.

No, if she was going to figure her shit out, she needed to take responsibility and do it by herself. Larry couldn't allay her qualms. Michelle couldn't. Jack couldn't. Nobody could.

So, she just walked out. She took her gun and her bag, and she walked out, stopping only to leave succinct but sufficiently informative notes for Larry and Michelle, praying they would understand, as well as placing her badge on her desk. She wouldn't be able to do this while having it remind her of who she was, who she used to be, perhaps.

She had never felt so detached from her body as she hailed a cab, somehow with the foresight to switch cars in a tunnel, knowing they would search for traffic cameras once they realised she was missing, and arrived at the airport, bluntly asking the receptionist for the soonest overseas flight. She would likely chop and change, ride the impulsive wave until she found somewhere that felt far removed enough to let her think about her life.

It felt crazy. Really, it did. But she refused to let herself back out. There was a reason she hadn't brought her cell: if she heard Michelle's voice now, she would break down. She had to do this. She had to get her answers. The thought of not finding them scared her, but so did the thought of complacency, of being suffocated by her comfort zone. She felt so alone, so vulnerable, but that was how it had to be.

She would make things easier for Michelle. She would give her the time and space to work through the last six years with Tony. Her relationship with Michelle had been wonderful, and neither would ever forget it. But Renee knew it wasn't her place to be in Michelle's life right now.

Larry was packing his briefcase, finally ready to head home, when Janis knocked on his door.

"Have you seen Renee?"

It wasn't an abnormal question, by any means, but, for some reason, hearing her ask it made his stomach sink. 

"No, isn't she in her office?"

"I... I've checked everywhere. She's not with Michelle. She's not in the bathroom. And... all of her stuff is gone. Her office is packed up like she left."

He shrugged a little. "Maybe she did. Maybe Berenson dismissed her." It was a simple explanation, but it didn't sound right, like it couldn't be that easy.

"Left like she's going on vacation, not just home," Janis corrected. "I– Even if you're right and I'm being dramatic, she wouldn't just leave like that, would she? The last time I saw her, she looked tired, but she was fine."

"Did she and Michelle talk? Maybe it was a lot, and she just needed to get away from it."

Janis shook her head, looking very concerned now. "That's just it: Michelle said Renee never came to see her after she came out of surgery. Only Tony."

Larry felt his chest tighten as he set his things down and followed Janis out of the bullpen. He habitually scanned for Renee — her hair usually made her pretty identifiable from afar. But not only could he not see her, he started to have the terrible feeling that Janis had a right to be worried, that he should start panicking, too.

He went to Renee's office, confirming that her bag was gone, as Janis had said. However, her badge was on her desk. And, as he came closer, beneath it were two envelopes that Janis wouldn't have noticed from a cursory inspection of the room. One was addressed to Michelle, the other to him. It rattled him that her handwriting didn't look rushed or frantic. It looked like she could have written it a year ago or five minutes ago.

As Larry opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, again finding the handwriting eerily neat, the first few sentences were enough for him to draw his conclusion.

"Janis, go call security and have them look for Renee."

Renee would have her computer with her, too. She could easily cover her tracks if she wanted to disappear. At least, he hoped that was what her slightly cryptic letter seemed to imply. If she was running away, escaping somehow, perhaps from the stress of all this, but the letter felt like such a goodbye that it unnerved him deeply.

"What do I tell anyone if they ask?"

Having run the FBI for so long, he knew that, as a leader, his job was to keep everyone focused and level-headed. That meant if he was worried about something, he couldn't worry them, too, unless he believed it was worth disclosing. Everything was need-to-know. With the day basically being over and only skeleton staff being required from here on out — even then, many people would clock off, and new people would come to overtake their work, who hadn't been very involved in the last twenty-four hours or so — he felt some guilt over looping them into this. But Larry knew there was no other conclusion he could draw: Renee was missing, and she clearly didn't want to be found. She had already done some pretty outlandish, uncharacteristic things today. Could all the stress have set her over the edge to do something dangerous that she might regret? He was so scared. And even though loyalties had been shaken today, he had to believe a good chunk of the people left in the FBI would care if one of their own was in trouble.

"I'll take care of it. You just go to security."

She nodded and left, her heels clicking rapidly as she walked down the hall.

Larry entered the bullpen and cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention. They all looked exhausted. He wished he could tell them it was time to go home, although he was glad he had commended them all for their efforts earlier.

"Agent Walker is missing. I need everyone who hasn't clocked out yet to check traffic cameras. She probably left the building less than half an hour ago."

People muttered with confusion, likely because he wasn't explaining what had happened.

"This is not related to an attack," he clarified sharply. "She's missing, so you're going to do your job and help find her. If you can't keep your eyes open, go home, but if you can stay, then start searching for her. If it was the other way around, you know damn well she would do everything to find you, so give her the same respect. Am I clear?"

There was more consensus this time, some people who really seemed like they were going to collapse, leaving, while others mustered what they could.

Larry's eyes then went to the hall leading to the medical ward. Before he could aid with the search, he had to be the bearer of bad news to someone else. Better she hear it from him, he supposed. He had seen Tony leave a little while ago and presumably go back to holding, so he trusted he wouldn't be interrupting anything except well-deserved rest — still not ideal, but less awkward, at least.

When he got to the door of her room, he noticed Michelle was still awake, for which he was glad. He wouldn't have wanted to wake her with something so worrying.

Larry knocked, and Michelle lifted her head a little, inviting him to come in. She looked like she had been crying — probably related to her and Tony's conversation.

"How are you doing?" he asked, wondering why the hell he was being such a coward and making small talk at a time like this.

She nodded. "I'm fine, uh, do you know where Renee is? Janis was looking for her."

He sucked in a breath, hating the hope in her eyes. God, she really cared so much for Renee. His hesitance must be perceptible because Michelle's expression faltered.

"Larry, what's going on?"

With a sigh, he came closer to her bed and passed her the envelope with her name on it.

If Larry had to describe what a broken heart looked like, it was the face Michelle made as she started to read the letter, not that dissimilar to the expression she had had when she had learned Tony was alive.

As Renee came into the bullpen, she saw Tony come out of the medical ward, hastily wiping tears away. She was pretty sure he and Michelle had just had that conversation. While Renee didn't want to burden Michelle with her problems if she was still upset, she recognised that she wanted to help Michelle as much as she wanted Michelle to help her. She wanted Michelle to know she was there for her in whatever capacity she wanted. Although Renee was coping with this morality and career crisis, it didn't override the importance of that.

She decided to wait a little while and give Michelle some space, helping Janis with sorting some evidence before finally making the brave trek to the ward.

Renee peeked through the glass pane, reminding herself to breathe. Michelle had a box of tissues beside her. Renee debated turning around, but caught Michelle's gaze. She nodded, as if to say she could come in.

"Hey," Renee said as she came in, trying not to sound so apprehensive or like she was upset. "How are you feeling? Doctors said surgery went okay, right?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. They still haven't given me decent painkillers yet, so..." Michelle laughed through her nose. "I'm as good as I can be."

Renee hummed in understanding. She certainly could do with some pain relief herself. They had given her some pills, but she would have to wait until she was home and not needing to drive to take them. "And how… how did everything go with Tony?" she then asked, her voice soft.

Michelle just shrugged, the reference to the conversation making her tense. "It got heated. I just– I just don't want him to throw a good opportunity away out of self-loathing. But obviously when we started talking about life choices..." She let out a breath, shaking her head. "A lot of emotions came up."

Renee sighed, coming to take a seat by her bed. Michelle grabbed another tissue. Renee squeezed her other hand. That alone seemed to comfort Michelle.

"I hope he makes the right decision," Renee just said. "For your sake, and for his."

Michelle nodded, squeezing it back. It made Renee glad she had come in here. The last thing Michelle needed was to feel alone right now, or worse, that both of them were upset with her. They still had some things to talk about, but it didn't need to happen right this second, and would be much less emotionally charged, she hoped.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Michelle asked. 

Renee realised she must have been staring into space for a while, lifting her head with surprise. When their eyes met, a small smile had crept across Michelle's face.

"I have the feeling you didn't just come in here to check on me," Michelle explained.

They had never been able to lie to each other. Even after all the revelations today, still being able to read each other felt oddly fond. It should be a testament that their relationship would hold up, no matter what form it ended up taking. Renee had to admit just sitting with Michelle like this made her feel a little more assured, herself. She wasn't Michelle, the CIA agent who had lied to her: she was Michelle, the woman she loved with all of her heart, who understood her better than anyone else, who was kind, and thoughtful, and everything she could ask for in a friend and partner.

Renee bit her lip. "You're right. I, uh..." She looked into her lap, trying to form her words. "I'm just having a hard time processing everything that happened today. I should be happy that we took down a conspiracy, the conspiracy that destroyed your life, but all I can think about is how the government failed. The FBI, the CIA, we wouldn't have been able to do it without outside help. Tony... Tony went to such extremes, and I appreciate that, but it scares me that the FBI, in particular, was useless."

Michelle looked at her with sympathy. "The FBI wasn't useless, and neither were you. We wouldn't have succeeded today without you."

She knew Michelle wouldn't just say that out of pity, but it was hard to believe. Renee could feel her overwhelm more intensely now, tears coming to her eyes out of sheer exhaustion and disbelief.

"I interrogated Tanner and got us a lawsuit. Real helpful," Renee groused.

Her head tilted. "What happened with Tanner?"

She huffed, her cheeks reddening slightly as she recalled what had happened. "I was so desperate to find you. I was just filled with this… this rage, and no matter how hard Larry was working, I felt like it wasn't enough. I don't even know what came over me. I started yelling at him, then I squeezed his oxygen tubes and–" Her voice broke. She felt like a monster, like an abomination, like an absolute hypocrite for what she had criticised Jack for today.

"Hey," Michelle said softly, grabbing her hand again. "We've had a fucked-up day. Sometimes, that means we do fucked-up things. You're allowed to be upset–"

"It's not just that. I... All we've proven today is that the government is corruptible and vulnerable, and not powerful enough to take on people like Wilson. And that even with everything we've done, there could still be more to the conspiracy, or more people like him already working on their next project." Her voice was racing, and she tried to catch herself but ended up choking back tears.

"It's okay. I understand exactly how you feel," Michelle said, and Renee stopped herself from rebutting childishly that she couldn't possibly, very aware that Michelle had been in this line of work for almost twice as long as she had. "I remember feeling exactly the way you did after I had to work with Jack and Tony to prove the Cyprus recording was fake. We were minutes away from starting a world war under false pretences, and it terrified me."

Renee wiped a tear with the heel of her hand, still holding Michelle's hand as she looked up. "How did you deal with it? How did you go back to work, knowing what you did, that everything you were taught to believe and put your faith in wasn't as strong as you thought?" 

"Well, I first reminded myself that by continuing to work in the government, I could make it better. I could hold a high standard for myself and the people around me, and that would make us stronger."

Michelle's statement aligning so well with what Renee had tried to tell herself helped a lot. It made it seem less idealistic, although clearly, a firm attitude hadn't been enough to prevent a conspiracy like this from brewing.

"But that was when I also decided to get my field training," she added. "I didn't really care either way before. I liked what I did. After all of that, though, I felt like I wanted to do more. I wanted to be in and out of the field to get a better understanding of how things work, how we communicate, how we can be better."

Again, having Michelle confirm that what she was thinking wasn't totally futile made her feel better. She was right. Even though they had exposed weaknesses in the government and its agencies, that didn't mean that they couldn't fix them. Now more than ever, they had the tools and awareness to make a difference. Working with a purpose beyond her duty would guide her. More than that, there would be rampant distrust within the government because of what had been exposed; a good level of scrutiny could stop them from being complacent, even if it bordered on paranoia for a period.

"Do you feel like it was worth it?" Renee asked.

Michelle gave a small shrug. "Of course. I mean, yeah, there are some things I wish I had done differently..." she joked darkly. "But that decision to stay despite the corruption I saw is one of the most important decisions I've ever made."

Renee couldn't help but think about how Michelle had another important decision on her hands, but said nothing. She felt like she could breathe a little easier now. Staying at the FBI felt like the right thing to do. However, that didn't mean she couldn't shake things up a little and offer herself some new perspective.

"Now that this has all come to light... you won't be liaising anymore, right?"

"Yeah, I'll be back to consulting for the CIA." There was an unspoken desire that Tony would be with her, too. "Why do you ask?"

She bit her lip. "I'm, uh, thinking about asking for your job."

Michelle's eyebrows rose. "You want to be the new liaison?" she seemed to ask it with surprise at her desire for change, not with doubt at her ability to do so. Michelle having faith in her as an agent meant more than she would ever realise. 

She nodded. "I want to learn more. I want the two agencies to work better together. If I could make changes that mattered, that would give me a more realistic purpose."

Her smile of encouragement made Renee's heart swell. "I think you'd be brilliant. Well, you already are brilliant. But I'll talk to Saul, put in a good word for you. He's impressed with what you've done today, anyway, so I'm sure you're a prime candidate for him."

"That would mean the world," Renee said gratefully. "Thank you for... talking some sense into me."

"Of course. Were you really that worried?"

She shrugged. "It's kind of like my whole world came crashing down today. But I'm feeling better now."

"Good." Michelle smiled before stifling a yawn.

"I'll let you get some rest," Renee said, standing and kissing Michelle's forehead. She had done it without thinking, and although Michelle didn't seem to mind, it appeared to remind her of the decision she still had to make, an emotion akin to guilt creeping into her expression. But whatever Michelle decided, Renee knew, undoubtedly, that she would be there for her, in whatever way she wanted.

As Tony left Michelle's ward, the slam of the door still echoing off the linoleum, he took a moment to collect himself in a shadowy part of the hall. He wouldn't be surprised if some of their conversation had been audible from the bullpen, although even if it hadn't been coherent, people could have easily put two and two together.

He hated that he could still hear Michelle crying. It had been hard enough to even hear her voice today, to see her face, to be reminded that she was here, that she had been here all this time. But, as it always seemed to be with them, the chaos of the day had exacerbated the already strong emotional charge. Now, they had let their feelings out. So, somehow, they had to search through the noise for some clarity on the decisions they each had to make. It should be a no-brainer. It really should be. He knew this was the deal of a lifetime. Nobody, nobody, in his position, with his priors, should have been offered this, the good he had done today notwithstanding. Jack and Michelle were to thank for it. But Tony couldn't quite agree to anything yet. He needed time to think. He felt like he was suffocating. He just wanted to scream into an abyss about everything that had happened not just today, but over the last six years.

A guard came down the hall, calling his name, and he looked up with a nod, following him back to the bullpen. Obviously, they wanted to keep an eye on him, even though he hadn't been placed in holding yet.

"Director Ingram? Almeida's here," the guard said.

Tony caught sight of Rebecca Ingram, someone he had only ever known on paper but was well aware of. She looked quite tired, which was understandable if she had been running the CIA all this time. From what he had heard Saul say earlier, she was only stopping by the FBI to drop off some classified documents, then heading home.

She gave him a small smile and shook his hand. It was semi-surprising, given that she knew exactly what he had been up to and had worked closely with Michelle. But maybe he was minimising his value here. Maybe he did deserve some respect.

"You look about as tired as I am," she said sympathetically, and again, it threw him how she could talk to him like he was just another agent in this office.

He laughed through his nose, but then her eyes narrowed. "Are you alright?"

Tony blinked a few times, not quite registering that she had asked him a question. "Yeah, I'm... I'm fine. Just a little stuffy in here."

He honestly didn't know if that was even true, his body rife with tension.

"Technically, you're meant to be sitting in holding, but I'll escort you outside if you want some air. You'll have to be cuffed, though," she offered.

Being in a dark room by himself was the last thing he wanted right now, so he accepted, holding his wrists out to allow the guard to restrain him, before following Ingram up the stairs to the roof.

Peak-hour traffic had started now, so the air was a little smoggy already, but it was much nicer than inside. Ingram walked towards one of the ledges, and together they looked out at the slowly building traffic. He remembered doing this a lot at CTU, especially in the early days. It had been a way to reflect and relax after whatever crisis they had faced, wondering if any of the people in the cars below had any idea of what could have happened had they failed.

Ingram pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering him one like he was a fellow co-worker and not a major flight risk. He politely refused. He had never really been a smoker. The closest he had come in recent times had been the occasional cigar David had usually offered associates in a meeting, but that hadn't quite been the same.

"I quit years ago," Ingram said. "But every now and then, when we have days like today, I let myself indulge a little."

"We all have our vices," he commented.

Things fell into silence, but not really an awkward one. She didn't entertain him with small talk, apparently understanding that he was up here to think. Of course, one of the biggest things on his mind that was only now hitting him was David's death. Death in their line of work had always been a possibility, but Tony never could have anticipated being in a position to kill David and not putting him first. David's scornful words deserved to replay in his mind for the rest of his life. After everything David had done for him, giving him a home, a purpose, a place to feel loved, Tony had repaid him with the ultimate betrayal. 

Tony had told himself all this time that sparing innocent lives had been worth it, that he had done the right thing because deep down, that was who he was: someone who did the right thing. But now, he couldn't quite convince himself that losing David had been acceptable. There was nothing to do to get him back. There was no point in agonising over that fateful decision to reach out to Bill and Chloe. But it gave him some food for thought. Just as Michelle's memory had haunted him while working for David, if he took the CIA's offer, he was certain David's memory would haunt him, too, tell him that he was blindly obeying an institution that had taken everything from him. He didn't know if he believed those words anymore. There was truth to them, but there was also truth to the idea that he was capable of and, more importantly, wanted to do the right thing.

Really, there was proof of his apparent reputability right here, right now. A director of the CIA had just offered him a cigarette and given him a privilege he was not entitled to. That could only be because she believed he wouldn't try to take advantage of her and escape. Sure, there were a few guards standing behind them, but it was the principle that mattered. She probably, rightfully, assumed that he was going to take the CIA's offer, so he wouldn't quite be a 'criminal' as soon as those papers were signed. Again, it just felt like a reminder that he was an idiot for even thinking about subverting expectations.

He knew that if he took the CIA's offer, it would, in part, be to gain Michelle's approval and forgiveness. Even if she didn't want to be with him anymore, something he would completely respect and understand, he still wanted that because like it or not, she had given him light the way Renee had given her light, and was responsible for some of the good in him. Although, really, Michelle was such a good person that Renee merely enhanced those characteristics; they would still exist even if she hadn't been there for her the way she had. Likewise, if he said no, it would, in part, be to appease David, to forgive him the only way he could. It begged the question of who the hell he was without either of them. Sure, it wasn't like Michelle had been the reason he had enlisted in the navy and later applied at CTU, just as it wasn't like David had been the reason he had ultimately become a mercenary. But both of them had encouraged Tony to pursue and stay on those respective paths.

At the end of the day, whether he took the CIA's offer, went to prison, or tried to make a run for it now, there would be challenges, and he would never stop looking over his shoulder, wondering if he should have made a different decision. But it wasn't about what would be easy. It wasn't about who he wanted to please more. It wasn't even about redemption.

It was about making a choice he could live with.

What should Tony do?

 • Escape ⇥ Go to Chapter 26-A-I

 • Refuse the CIA's offer ⇥ Go to Chapter 26-A-II

 • Take the CIA's offer ⇥ Go to Chapter 26-III

Tony felt himself take shuddering breaths as he walked out of the ward, running a hand through his hair. He had known their conversation would be intense, but not to this extent. Combined with everything else that had happened today, it was a lot to handle and he was at his wit's end. He was exhausted, yet he didn't even think sleep would be possible right now, not when he had so much on his mind.

He tried to walk towards the bullpen, hoping that if he couldn't hear Michelle crying, he could collect himself. But his legs were shaking, so he ended up stopping to lean against the wall. It was oddly quiet, which only amplified the sound of his breathing and sniffles as he tried not to break down. He just wanted to scream. Tony had been well aware of the magnitude of this day in the lead-up, that his two worlds, Michelle and David, would collide with major consequences. He was grateful that both of them were okay. But his relationships with either of them, not so much.

Someone called his name, likely an agent looking for him, so he let out all the air in his lungs, wiping under his eyes, before returning to the bullpen.

"Director Ingram? Almeida's here," the guard said.

Tony caught sight of Rebecca Ingram, someone he had only ever known on paper but was well aware of. She looked quite tired, which was understandable if she had been running the CIA all this time. From what Saul had said earlier, she was only stopping by the FBI to drop off some classified documents, then heading home.

But the sound of jingling handcuffs soon distracted him. He turned to see David, restrained at the wrist, one of which was noticeably stiffer than the other, being led to a holding room. David just scowled at him, and all Tony could do was blink a few times. He would have bet good money on David being in the Maldives or wherever the hell he had wanted to run off to by now.

Ingram explained, "The CIA found him at a private airfield after we finished up at the port. I transferred him here because I figured the FBI would have more to ask him."

Tony just furrowed his brow. David had bolted right after the meeting with Nichols, without so much as a goodbye. He shouldn't have even had the chance to get caught. Had he been... waiting for him? But Tony was less focused on logistics and more focused on the possibility of being able to speak to David. Even if David just told Tony to go fuck himself again, like he had back at the hangar, he still felt a burning desire to try. He also wanted David to know that he had had no part in his arrest, contrary to what he might think.

"Can I, uh, speak to him?" Tony asked, half-expecting Ingram to laugh in his face, but she didn't, asking the guard to escort him there. That made him pause. He should be sitting in a holding cell right now, but she was kindly letting him speak to another fugitive. She obviously would know a lot about him, however, she was still treating him with the respect of a fellow agent, not a felon. Perhaps he was reading too much into it, but the thought of how Ingram regarded him sat at the back of his mind.

He followed the guard, who, unsurprisingly, remained in the room as he shut the door.

"I have nothing to say to him," David just said, looking behind him at the guard.

"I am not the one who ratted you out. I had no idea where you were going," Tony explained, trying but failing to meet his gaze.

David, stubborn as usual, said nothing.

"I know I went behind your back, and believe me, it killed me to do that, but like I told you, it was about innocent people, not hurting you," he went on, wondering if this was a futile effort. "Please, David, come on."

There was a painful silence. But just as Tony started to accept that he might have to give up, David finally lifted his head and looked him right in the eye.

"You're dead to me, Tony," he said plainly. "But if you want to resurrect yourself, you know what you need to do."

It was cryptic enough that the guards probably questioned what David was implying, but wouldn't know how to interpret it. Even if they deduced that David was asking him to aid his escape, they would have no reason to assume he would follow through, because he had gained some trust and respect from them today. They would likely assume he wouldn't do anything for David, not with the offer he had on the table. 

Although at surface level, Tony had every reason not to trust David, Tony also knew that David, paranoid as he was, didn't quite play games like this. If Tony broke David out and escaped with him, he was almost certain that would be enough for David to forgive him — but never forget. Of course, doing so would make him a fugitive, and the government wouldn't extend an olive branch again.

The idea of breaking David out shouldn't even be on his mind. He had an incredible offer from the CIA, one that normally would not be offered to someone in his position. He would be an idiot not to take it, but somehow, he felt a need to mull it over, just the way he couldn't stop himself from mulling this over, too. The desire to make things right with David, even if Tony didn't escape with him, necessarily, was too strong to ignore. He was nothing but loyal to the people he cared about, and after betraying David, he would gladly take an opportunity to redeem himself. Likewise, he had betrayed Michelle by working against the law, so taking the CIA's offer would be a way to redeem himself for her, too.

But Tony didn't want to make the decision based on the approval of either of them. He needed to make this decision himself. Unfortunately, it was hard to partition his own wants from his consideration of how Michelle and David would take his decision. It shouldn't be hard to just pick what felt right, but the problem was... he could see himself in either position with equal comfort. Picking up the pieces and learning to be the good guy again, or deciding that chapter was behind him and enjoying the freedom that came from being unattached to an institution. He didn't think David would want to return to mercenary work; the diamond money would allow them both to retire. But Michelle would be so disappointed, and even though he would likely never see her again, he feared that knowledge would haunt him, worse still, that he might lose the capacity to be good forever. Just as he had told Michelle that Renee had given her light, he recognised that Michelle had given him light, too. He was a better person around her. But he stood up for himself more with David, and he wouldn't forget how the government had screwed them all over. If he took the CIA's offer, would he just hear David's voice in the back of his mind, nagging, calling him a coward and a disgrace, telling him he deserved every bad thing that might happen to him? Would he feel like he was living a lie, just for Michelle? He didn't want to do that, and she surely wouldn't want him to do that, either.

At the end of the day, this was not about making a choice that would be easier, not about making a choice that everybody was expecting him to make, and not about making a choice based on who would suffer less as a result.

It was about making a choice he could live with.

What should Tony do?

 • Escape with David ⇥ Go to Chapter 26-B-I

 • Refuse the CIA's offer and let David go ⇥ Go to Chapter 26-B-II

 • Take the CIA's offer ⇥ Go to Chapter 26-III

As Tony slid into the stairwell, the apparent lack of security didn't make him feel smug, contribute to some idea that David had planted in his head about the government being fallible: it just made him feel bad. However, his feelings changed nothing about his intentions.

He had to get the hell out of there.

Either way, working for the CIA or being imprisoned would trap him into something he didn't want. He didn't deny that he had made mistakes, big mistakes, that were worth punishing. He also didn't deny that he was of some value to the CIA, that if he really wanted to, he could pick up the pieces and be the good guy again. His brief chat with Ingram on the balcony had supported that notion. But after all those years working for David, one thing he had come to cherish more than anything was freedom. Sure, working for David had come with its own regulations in some ways, but it was nothing like the life he had once had. And with everything he had gone through, he had determined that that life just wasn't for him anymore.

He knew his decision would hurt her. He knew it would. But he wanted to believe that she would appreciate his honesty, respect his statement that he couldn't be part of the government anymore, not the way she wanted him to be. Jack would be pissed, too — hell, he already was — but this wasn't about what others thought. For once, this was about what he wanted. With David gone, and now leaving Jack and Michelle behind, he could take the opportunity to really analyse who the hell he was and what the hell he wanted out of the rest of his life.

As Tony walked outside, the fresh air already felt liberating and validated that this was the right thing for him. He snuck into a side alley with poor observability from the street camera above, although once he got back to Bill's loft where some of his stuff was, he would cover his tracks. When he had asked Larry a few hours ago, he had told him that Bill was in the burns unit and expected to make a full recovery. Meanwhile, Chloe had landed safely in LA with Morris some time ago, so Tony was certain he wouldn't bump into either of them. Although he wanted to believe neither could have changed his mind, he still wouldn't have wanted to see the disappointment on their faces.

Tony carefully walked through the streets, eventually finding an old, beat-up sedan, away from any places of residence, by the looks of it. He smashed the window with his elbow and got in, keeping an eye out for witnesses. As he hot-wired the car and drove off, it wasn't surprising that tears pricked his eyes. He knew he was inching closer to the point of no return. He could still turn around and go back to the FBI, act like it had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, and that he really had no intention of running. He could walk back inside and act like nothing had happened or easily make something up to justify his absence, but he just couldn't. It wasn't in him anymore, and while he had a lot of uncertainty about everything, he acknowledged that knowing what he didn't want was as important as knowing what he did want.

"Rebecca," Saul called, walking to meet her on the other side of the bullpen. "Where's Almeida?"

Her brow furrowed. "In holding. I escorted him there myself. I'm about to head home."

For some reason, he couldn't quite believe that. It wasn't that he didn't trust Rebecca, but he knew in his gut that something was off. She seemed to know he was worried, wordlessly walking towards the holding rooms, and opening the door, only to find Almeida gone, his cuffs on the table, and the guard in the room unconscious.

Saul cursed under his breath. "Get Moss. He couldn't have gotten far."

Of course, that was the easy part. The hard part, telling Michelle, was on him. He hated the apprehension he felt. It wasn't like it was his spouse that was missing. But it was the deja vu, all the horrible feelings coming back from when he had told Michelle, barely out of a coma, confused and afraid, that her husband was apparently dead. At least this time, he wouldn't have to follow that discussion with something about work. This time, he would tell her that Tony, against her wishes, against her expectations, had broken himself out of federal custody, but that the burden wouldn't be on her to find him. However, Saul doubted Michelle would just sit there and cry about it. If anything, he would probably have to stop her from hobbling over to the bullpen, grabbing a laptop, and trying to help.

Before Saul made to leave, he noticed the CIA contract was still on the table. Almeida hadn't felt passionate enough in his actions to tear it up, apparently. The pen was still there, too. Saul picked up the document, unsure why he felt compelled to flick through it until he found a small, scrawled note on the last blank page. He tore out the page with some care, realising that Michelle may want to cling to it for the rest of her life.

He came back to the bullpen, already finding Moss yelling out orders. Their eyes met briefly, Moss silently telling him good luck, knowing what he had to do. Although he had had his bureau fucked around today, largely by him and Michelle, he clearly still respected and held a lot of sympathy for her, which Saul appreciated.

Saul walked down the hall, coming into Michelle's room with a polite knock. She still looked like she had been crying, which, in a way, was a good thing. Had she been riding the high of accomplishment — which, really, most hardworking agents like her never got the chance to experience it, always thinking about the next task ahead — this would have been more crushing.

"Have you spoken to Tony again?" she asked.

The sigh he let out, combined with Tony's absence in the room, seemed to tell her everything, her eyebrows slowly lifting and mouth falling agape. "No... Tell me he didn't."

Saul came closer, passing her the note, which read, I love you, and I'm sorry. Within seconds, her tears landed on the paper.

"The FBI is already looking for him," he tried to say with encouragement. "He's probably still in the area."

"But you know damn well that if he wanted to disappear..." She choked back a sob, meeting his gaze. "He could."

"I know," Saul lamented, his voice softer. 

He knew Walker might be the best person, maybe one of the only people, who could truly comfort Michelle right now. Saul decided to go look for her.

If Renee:

 • Walked away (Chapter 24-i) ⇥  Go to Chapter 27-i-A-I

 • Stayed at the FBI (Chapter 24-ii) ⇥  Go to Chapter 27-ii-A-I

Tony had thought that moment on the roof would have cleared his head a little, but as he read through the contract yet again, he was dismayed, but unfortunately not surprised, to find nothing appealing about it. It wasn't like the CIA was trying to screw him; the contract was quite concise, and he had known what to look for. The deal really was much better than he deserved.

The problem was… he just couldn't take it.

While today had certainly made him realise that he was still capable of doing the right thing, that didn't necessarily mean he wanted to. He wasn't going to go out and hijack a plane or blow up a building; he didn't want to do the wrong thing, either. What he was, was tired, both in the sense of today, and in the sense of the last six years. He just didn't have the drive for anything anymore. He was burned out beyond recognition. His mind, body, and soul had been through so much, too much, to feel any desire to push himself into trying to be the best agent or the best mercenary he could.

Michelle would be upset. He knew that, and that was largely the reason for his hesitation. But it just didn't sit right with him. It wasn't that he had expected that taking the CIA's offer would mean her taking him back. He wasn't delusional. But he knew that it just wasn't in him to be a Fed again, not anymore. More than that, he didn't feel worthy of it. One way or another, people had died because of him and his actions. On a matter of principle, it felt wrong to take the deal and act like he was the good guy again, or that he had never really changed. He had felt unjustified in walking into CTU after his treason charge and nobody had gotten hurt that time. This deal was was blatant pity, from Michelle and from Jack. He understood they were looking out for him and his well-being, but he didn't need it.

He needed to be punished. One day of good deeds did not erase six years of bad ones.

Tony heard footsteps outside. Saul came in a moment later. Although Tony had acted apprehensive when the deal had been presented to him, Saul seemed to look at him with the expectancy that he would announce he had been ungrateful and foolish and pass the signed contract to him.

Saul furrowed his brow as Tony just slid the contract back over, face down.

"I can't take this deal," he explained.

"What do you mean, you can't?"

"I mean, I can't be a Fed again. I'll do my time, as I should."

Saul stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You do realise we didn't just offer that for your sake? We need your intel, Almeida."

"I'll give you my intel," he amended. "But I can't be at the CIA's mercy."

He just scoffed. "You're not fucking serious."

Their eyes met. "I am not a Fed anymore."

"All your wife has tried to do since she found out you were alive was prove that you were still the man she loved. She's going to be devastated. What the hell are you doing?"

He slammed his hand on the table, the guilt trip uncalled for and unnecessary. He had made up his mind. He would not let anybody change it, even the one person who had a shot at it.

"I'm not taking the deal," he insisted.

"If you think you're going to get away with anything less than twenty-five fucking years, you're a moron. The judge will know that you refused a deal to serve your country."

He shook his head. "I'm aware of what I'm doing, alright? Yes, I know she's going to be upset, but I'm not doing this to please her."

It came out much colder than intended and Saul's eyebrows rose in response. Yes, deep down, the thought of prison after so many years of absolute freedom terrified him, particularly remembering how poorly he had handled a mere seven months. But the CIA was imprisonment in its own way, too. And even if he broke out, something he was certain he could pull off, becoming a traitor with a shoot-to-kill order was no more liberating. It was ironic. It really was. But he just couldn't do it anymore.

Saul had practically dragged Tony by the ear down to the ward. He was still so angry with him. This was ridiculous. This shouldn't be happening. Saul was certain Michelle would be equally stunned and disappointed. If Michelle didn't slap Tony across the face for doing something so selfish and ignorant — it wasn't like she wasn't capable of doing so, from what he had heard about the interrogation yesterday — he sure as hell would.

The look on his face must have been enough for Michelle to know what was going on because she just glanced between them and said, "No."

"I'm not taking the deal," Tony said calmly, but she wouldn't have it.

"You're an idiot. You're an idiot. Sign the contract right here, right now. Don't mess with me."

He shook his head. "My heart isn't in this anymore. I just– I can't, Michelle, alright?"

Saul expected to see her get angry again. Instead, she looked hopeless and alarmed, like she didn't even recognise Tony, like his soul had gone, leaving him as a shell too stubborn to do the right thing but not callous enough to do the wrong thing.

"We're not going through this again," she said, her voice rough. "You martyring yourself by going to prison. That was one of the worst moments in both of our lives, and you're just going to bring it all up again. And this time you won't even be out soon enough for us to argue about it."

"You don't need me to be happy."

"Fuck you," she muttered. "You don't get to make that decision for me. You don't know what I want. You don't know what I've been through!" her voice broke. "Just because I've had Renee doesn't mean I haven't mourned you, haven't thought about you every minute of every fucking day because I care about you so much and I love you. Even when I thought the worst, I haven't stopped loving you."

Tony wiped under his eyes.

"Do you really hate yourself that much?" she asked, her voice quieter, more heartsick. "You really don't think you deserve this, so you're going to put yourself back in a situation that's never left you the same?"

He didn't answer, but he didn't need to.

She was actively fighting back tears, but holding her body so tightly only seemed to make it more painful. Tony reached out, likely instinctively, but she pushed him away with more strength than she should be using. She was not just upset: she was furious with him, and Tony was an idiot to have thought she would react otherwise.

Tony took the hint and made to leave without saying a word, staring blankly ahead and trying to keep some composure as Michelle's sobs became audible. She was gutted, absolutely gutted, by his choice. He might have tried to do it for himself, but he had hurt her deeply in the process and he couldn't undo it. Even if he turned around right here, right now and signed the damn contract, the damage had been done.

Saul was tempted to berate Tony again, remind him of everything he had watched Michelle go through, only for him to hurt her in the worst way. But, judging by the look on Tony's face, he could punish himself perfectly fine on his own. Apparently, it was all he knew how to do.

The only one who might be able to comfort Michelle right now was Walker. Saul decided to go look for her.

If Renee:

 • Walked away (Chapter 24-i) ⇥  Go to Chapter 27-i-A-II

 • Stayed at the FBI (Chapter 24-ii) ⇥  Go to Chapter 27-ii-A-II

This was crazy. It really was. But Tony couldn't deny that it felt right, that the liberation of not being tied to an agency was all he could see himself doing for the rest of his life. While he still felt guilty over having left Michelle, he could only hope she would understand why, that this wasn't meant to hurt her, that he was simply stating that although he would always love her and care about her, they just weren't meant to be together, not anymore, not in the same way. They were just too different now. When his loyalties had aligned with hers, they had been a force to be reckoned with. But now, his heart was in another place. He couldn't live inauthentically. He had had a taste of freedom, and he couldn't give it up. Obviously, being on the run was still limiting in some sense, but it was what he wanted.

The escape had been surprisingly easy, probably because he had gained a lot of trust today, something he felt a little bad for betraying, but not bad enough. He had disarmed and held the guard in his room at gunpoint, stopping him from using his radio, walked him over to David's cell, forced that guard to release him, then the he and David had knocked them out. Tony had let David go first, telling him he would cover for him. Then, he had managed to slip out a few moments later, such that David had no idea he was behind him right now. He had chosen this stairwell because of its poor visibility, and looped the cameras in advance. Hopefully, by the time someone noticed that neither he nor David were in their cells... they would be long gone — assuming he had interpreted his message correctly and David would allow him to come along. Tony had to believe this was enough to warrant forgiveness, particularly with the implication that by being on the run together, Tony would continue to guarantee their safety.

Finally, he got outside, the fresh air and morning light so appropriately symbolic. David was looking around himself, a gun in his hand, presumably from the guard he had either disarmed or killed.

"David," Tony uttered, making him whip his head around and point the gun at him. He could tell it was difficult for him to use his non-dominant hand, but Tony didn't doubt he could still shoot him if he felt like it.

David soon dropped the gun with a huff of disbelief. "I didn't think you were coming along for the ride."

Tony smiled without mirth. "We both know I'm not Fed material anymore. And I'm not going back to prison. I... I want to make it up to you. I want to be with you, if you'll have me."

That seemed to surprise him more. He couldn't even respond with his usual snark, looking at Tony with a mixture of scepticism and — very subtle — affection.

Tony could hear some noise from inside, so he motioned with his head towards an alley. David caught his drift, and they carefully managed to locate an abandoned car. He smashed the glass for David — he didn't need to risk hurting his other arm — and decided to drive. David could still shoot with his good arm if they encountered resistance hopefully.

"They caught you at an airfield, didn't they?" Tony asked.

"I technically haven't agreed to let you come with me," he pointed out.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm taking us back to the compound to grab our stuff. If you have another pilot you want to call, do it now. Whether you want me with you or not, we won't have much time before they're looking for us."

"And if I don't want you with me?"

He gave a vague shrug. "I'll drive to the border and make sure I don't get caught. I don't know. What's it to you?"

"Well, a promise is a promise..." David admitted stiffly. "We need to have a talk, a good, long talk, but splitting up is pointless. You broke us both out. We're in this together now. Although I have to say..." Tony met his eyes briefly. "I really didn't think you had it in you."

He laughed through his nose. "I didn't either. But I'm here now." His voice sobered. "And I do mean it. I... I want to be with you. We'll stay under the radar, and... we'll be happy together, the way we were."

There was still some tension in the silence that followed. David seemed to really want to point out that it was Tony's fault that they were even in this mess, but he managed to hold his tongue.

"You know why I took the job for Dubaku in the first place?" David asked him.

Tony furrowed his brow, looking at him before returning his gaze to the road. "I mean, it was good money. Why else?"

David tutted. "I wanted us to retire. The wealth from the diamonds would have set us up for life."

He felt a clutch of affection for David. He had suspected this, but David had never confirmed it until now. It might not change the fact that it had still crossed a line Tony wasn't comfortable with, but it did make him wish he had been more upfront about it. Maybe they could have worked something out. Maybe he shouldn't have assumed David would accuse him of going soft or reverting to old morals. David hadn't been working for Dubaku entirely out of greed: he had been doing it for them.

"When you talked about cashing in our chips and leaving this behind..." Tony started, shaking his head. "I thought you were just saying it hypothetically. I didn't realise– I... I'm sorry. No, I'm not sorry about putting my foot down, but I'm sorry for how I did it. You didn't deserve that. If I had been honest, things at the hangar wouldn't have gone down the way they had."

To his immense relief, David's expression softened, apparently receptive to his apology.

"Well, you've more than made up for it now," David said decisively. "So why don't we put the past behind us and look forward to our future?"

He felt his heart swell. They were doing this. They were really doing this. Tony hadn't lost him forever. He could still have the life he wanted with him. Tony would be lying if he told himself that he wasn't still thinking about Michelle, but he was in no way questioning the choice he had made. She would learn to be happy without him, likely with Renee, as she had been, and he would be glad for her.

"Rebecca," Saul called, walking to meet her on the other side of the bullpen. "Where's Almeida?"

Her brow furrowed. "In holding. I escorted him there myself. I'm about to head home."

For some reason, he couldn't quite believe that. It wasn't that he didn't trust Rebecca, but he knew in his gut that something was off. It didn't help that he had been very aware, and therefore very nervous, about Emerson and Tony being in close proximity to each other. Initially, Saul had thought it was stupid, almost rude, to assume that, after everything that had happened today, Tony would turn around and betray the government again. Combined with how he felt now, unfortunately, it became apparent that he had only disregarded his suspicion because Michelle had implored that her husband was trustworthy.

Rebecca seemed to know he was worried, wordlessly walking towards the holding rooms. He went to Tony's; she went to Emerson's, clearly on the same track as him. He wasn't surprised Almeida was gone, not in the slightest. His cuffs were on the table, broken, and the guard in his room was, at a glance, only unconscious.

"Son of a bitch," Rebecca uttered, making him turn his head to where she was likely faced with a similar sight. "Emerson's gone, too."

"They went together," Saul concluded. "Get Moss on this now."

She nodded, biting her lip at the implication that he would be telling Michelle. It wasn't going to be easy. She had already been through so much today. She had taken a bullet for Tony, and he had repaid by leaving her. It was almost a double-whammy, both him refusing the CIA's offer and him actively choosing to be a criminal again. At the same time, it left no question to his motivation: he had wanted to break Emerson out because he loved him. It would still hurt Michelle to discover that, but maybe it wouldn't be such a shock. He could only hope, at least.

When Saul made it down the hall towards the ward, he tried not to look too angry. Even though he was happy to write Tony off and let the government have at finding him and Emerson, that was not the case for Michelle. In some ways, he didn't know how she would feel. She would be upset at his choice, sure, but even he could recognise that finding Tony and dragging him back here by the ear wouldn't change much. He doubted she would be resentful enough to want to put him in prison just to punish him. Her begging him to take the CIA deal and avoid prison in the first place was a testament to that.

Saul knocked warily, and she told him to come in. He could see she was still crying. She had been through so much, and he was about to make things so much worse. The reminiscence from when he had broken the news to her that Tony was supposedly dead was not helping this, either. What was it with him always being the bearer of Michelle's bad news? The only instance he hadn't had to deal with was Michelle finding out Tony was alive.

"Saul, what's wrong?" she asked, clearly perceiving his hesitancy.

He took a breath. "Tony escaped," he informed her. He wouldn't dare sugar-coat this. She was strong enough to take it honestly. More than that, he didn't really want to. Tony no longer deserved to be spoken about with respect or justification for his actions.

Her eyes widened. "W... What?"

"We think it must have happened about fifteen minutes ago. The FBI is already looking for them both."

"Both?"

"Emerson's gone as well. I don't know whose idea it was, but obviously, they helped each other."

To his bewilderment, her shoulders slumped like she was... relieved. She was certainly still upset, and looked like she might cry again, but the heartbreak he had expected was nowhere to be seen.

"He did it for him," Michelle said simply, but sadly. "He didn't run away for no reason. He just... He did it for him."

Technically, they didn't even know who had broken out who, but it seemed that didn't even matter to Michelle, that she could accept that it had been an act of love between them, not an act of defiance or spite towards her. Having a logical explanation, whether it was true or not, was enough for her. It made Saul remember that Michelle hadn't gotten as far as she had without strength and resilience. Most of today had been about the truth, not just seeing Tony again. And the truth had come to light, namely that, while Tony had taken some wrong turns, he wasn't quite the terrorist they had initially thought — although they were back to questioning that now.

Tony had made his choice, but she was okay with it. While a part of him wanted to point out her clear subjectivity, her apparent total lack of care or motivation for tracking down him and Emerson, both of which had the potential to wreak havoc, he was actually relieved to see her contentment here. She had been through enough.

Still, Saul was aware that his absence might hit her harder later on. She would need a shoulder to cry on, not just over this, but over everything. Walker could be that for her. More than that, Saul owed her an apology for doubting her. Saul decided to go look for her.

If Renee:

 • Walked away (Chapter 24-i) ⇥  Go to Chapter 27-i-B-I

 • Stayed at the FBI (Chapter 24-ii) ⇥  Go to Chapter 27-ii-B-I

Tony's eyes had skimmed the contract about a dozen times, but he still had to make himself read every word consciously and absorb its meaning. The contract wasn't even that long, which, really, was a sign that it wasn't hiding anything. Nobody was trying to screw him. This was a stock-standard work release deal. Technically, it contained no specifics of the work he might be required to do, but Saul had given him firm assurance that the work would not endanger him or his livelihood, that they were not trying to get rid of him, that they really just wanted his information and his assistance with the aftermath of the conspiracy.

He had wanted to believe that reading the deal would knock some sense into him and make him realise he was still a good man at heart. But all Tony could think about was David and how he had betrayed him. It wasn't that Tony believed he was no longer capable of being a Fed: he just felt like it was something he was forcing upon himself. Add to that, a chance to make things up to David that he would lose if he took the deal, it was pretty difficult to feel excited. He also had to acknowledge that, unfortunately, even if he became as dedicated of an agent as he had been all those years ago, maybe a better one, it wouldn't be enough for Michelle. She would always look at him with disappointment at the decisions he had made. He wasn't making this decision for her or for David, but that was a factor, and when he took that away, the idea of working for the CIA just didn't feel right, not anymore. However, he also didn't want to go back to being the bad guy. He didn't want to spit on the deal and make a statement. He just felt he couldn't bring himself to do either. He realised he was oddly content with the idea of going to prison and facing the music, only because it felt like the most neutral option, the option that didn't please either of them, although neither would be happy about it, he was sure.

If intended to refuse this deal, though, he wouldn't dare waste the opportunity in front of him.

Tony asked the guard in his cell if he could excuse himself a moment, citing that he had forgotten to explain something to Janis regarding a file he had transferred. He claimed it was too complicated for someone else to relay. Thankfully, he had gained a sufficient amount of trust today because the guard didn't seem to have an issue with it.

He made his way into the bullpen, relieved by the lack of stares. In a way, he felt quite bad, knowing what he was about to do, but it wasn't personal. This was just something he had to do to feel content. He wasn't going against the government. He wasn't going with it, either. But he was making a choice that he knew was necessary. Jack had basically told him that was what he had to do, albeit not in this context, but the sentiment held.

It didn't take him long to get the information he needed, nor was it hard for him to swipe the tiny, but integral item he needed to pull this off. Janis gave him a strange look as he explained something about a file that really wasn't that difficult to understand, particularly for someone like her. It only made him more nervous. What he was about to do was pretty serious. He just hoped it wouldn't be wildly misinterpreted as some act of rebellion and anarchy, most of all by the person whose judgement would hurt the most.

"Tony?" someone called from behind him. Larry. Shit.

He tried to look casual as he turned around, but Larry didn't seem overly surprised he was in the bullpen, apparently giving him the benefit of the doubt.

"I just had to add a note to a file for Janis," Tony said. "But, uh, do you mind letting me see Emerson before I go back to my cell?"

Larry's brow creased slightly. "Alright."

Tony walked alongside Larry towards the other holding room. David looked up with surprise, and that surprise only grew as Tony pushed the table aside, seized David by the throat and pinned him against the wall. For a moment, David's expression perfectly resembled his reaction to Tony shooting him, which made his heart twinge.

"You did this to me," Tony gritted through his teeth. "You made me like this. You corrupted me!"

David looked both offended and confused, but as Tony subtly let the paperclip drop into David's sleeve, there was an understanding. It was so minute, only the two of them could recognise it. Tony could only hope David wouldn't struggle too much to undo the cuffs or defend himself with his nerve pain.

As he moved in, trying to feign great anger, uttering, "Left stairwell," David just responded with, "God, do you have to be so dramatic?"

Tony shouted something about killing him in response, not wanting to make it look like they were communicating secretly.

"Almeida, enough!" Larry shouted, pulling him back by the collar, not unlike how he had pulled Michelle off him yesterday.

True to David's claim, Tony resisted Larry at first, keeping up the act, but eventually conceded, brushing him off as well as the guards who had joined in to restrain him before storming out.

"Almeida..." Larry called. "Almeida," he said more insistently. "Are you alright?"

Tony huffed. "I'm fine. I just– I've got a lot on my mind."

His expression seemed sympathetic as he nodded, but he soon escorted Tony back to his cell, telling the guard to keep an eye on him. Tony returned his gaze to his paperwork, confirming it hadn't become any more enticing, and, well, within about fifteen minutes, it wouldn't be an option for him anyway.

Per Tony's request, Saul came into the holding room, initially expecting Tony to have come to his senses and pass him the signed contract. But a strange feeling crept into his gut as he met Tony's gaze. Something told him this wasn't going to go as expected.

"I can't take this deal," Tony just said. "I'm sorry."

"What do you mean, you can't?"

He shook his head. "I can't be a Fed again."

"You do realise that you're going to a federal prison for at least twenty-five years, if not more, if you don't sign those fucking papers."

"I know," Tony said. "But I'm not lying to myself."

"Well, go tell your wife that because I sure as hell won't be the bearer of bad news regarding you — again."

Tony sighed, standing and walking to the ward with a demeanour akin to a dog with its tail between its legs. Saul decided to give them a moment of privacy and walked back to the bullpen, trying to see where Moss was, but one of the security guards soon called his name.

"Emerson's escaped," he blurted.

Saul blinked a few times. "Escaped?"

"What's this about Emerson?" Larry asked from behind him.

The guard repeated the statement while Saul walked over to the holding rooms, just to confirm nobody was messing with him. When he found Emerson's cell empty, the guard who had been watching him either unconscious or dead — he couldn't tell from this distance — he cursed under his breath.

"Almeida," Saul gritted through his teeth as Larry came in.

"What?"

"Almeida," he growled, shoving past him and making his way back to the ward, where Michelle was already crying as Tony sat beside her despondently.

Saul recognised that part of his fury was not so much rooted in his own feeling of betrayal and disappointment but Michelle's, too. She had fought tooth and nail to give Tony a chance today and redeem him. But both denying the CIA's offer and taking advantage of the trust that had been instilled in him would hurt her deeply, more than the initial discovery that he was alive and a mercenary at that ever had. It was clear Michelle was utterly shocked by his choice, although he had to wonder how much she knew. The news that he had added aiding and abetting a fugitive to his list of crimes would not make her feel better.

Saul didn't skip a beat in lifting Tony up by the collar, to Michelle's protest and confusion.

"Tell me where the hell he is right now," he demanded.

"I don't know–"

"I don't have time for this. Tell me."

Michelle looked between them, apparently aggravating the stitches in her side. "Saul, what the hell is going on?"

"He helped Emerson escape."

Her eyes widened. "You what?"

Tony held his hands up, keeping his voice level in a way that was just infuriating. "I'm not denying that. I'm not trying to run. You can cuff me right now. It's over."

Saul released him and didn't hesitate to do so, gruffly shooting Michelle a look of apology. But now, she didn't look quite so astonished. She still looked upset, undoubtedly, but somehow, she had gained clarity while Saul was scratching his head trying to understand whether Tony still had a play here.

"You did it for him," Michelle concluded, her voice much softer. "Didn't you? You denied the offer, so you could do that?"

"I had to make it up to him," Tony admitted, holding his wrists out but keeping his eyes on Michelle. "It was a matter of principle. But also..." He sighed, looking very ashamed now, and much more familiar. "I couldn't lie to myself like that. I'll do my time. I'll be okay."

Michelle squeezed her eyes shut. "Okay," she whispered. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said as Saul dragged him out, sent him back to holding and requested multiple guards to stand sentry and rip up the contract. 

He then thought back to Michelle and realised the only one who might be able to comfort her right now was Walker. Saul decided to go look for her.

If Renee:

 • Walked away (Chapter 24-i) ⇥  Go to Chapter 27-i-B-II

 • Stayed at the FBI (Chapter 24-ii) ⇥  Go to Chapter 27-ii-B-II

Tony looked through the contract one more time, but it wasn't really necessary; as Saul had claimed, it was as legitimate as it had seemed and had no bullshit hidden clauses. The length of the contract was a testament to that. He would be at the CIA's beck-and-call until he was proven physically or mentally unable to work, or turned sixty-seven, and could legally retire — although unofficial consulting would never be off the table. Technically, the work he could be contracted for was unspecified, meaning anything from shit-kicking intern work all the way to being sent on a suicide mission. But Saul had explained he would probably be consulting like Michelle; more importantly, Saul had emphasised that he would look out for him and Michelle and had no intention of trying to screw him, so that felt a little better.

As he picked up the pen, he knew he was doing the right thing. He still wasn't quite sure how he had managed to get this opportunity, but he would be a fool not to take it, even if he was still a little nervous about it. Working for the CIA was the right way to redeem himself, particularly since they were aware now more than ever of the potential fallout of powerful intra- and inter-government conspiracies. He might have felt a little different if the FBI had offered him the contract instead. He was coming full-circle, and the familiarity of it was comforting in its own way. Wherever David was, he would certainly disapprove if he had any idea, and Tony knew he would have his voice in his conscience, but he didn't have to give it any power. His chapter with David would never be forgotten, but it had come to an end now.

He signed, initialled and dated wherever he had to, and Saul came in a moment later, almost on cue. Before Saul could ask, Tony handed him the contract.

"Good choice," Saul said, slightly surprised, since Tony hadn't been the most enthused about the deal upon its presentation.

Tony smiled a little. "I know if I want to see real change in the government... it's never going to happen if I'm still on the outside."

Saul hummed in assent. "And I think you're better off making those changes with us rather than the FBI. Just don't tell Moss I said that."

He snickered. That rivalry between the two agencies was never going to go away, it seemed.

"You want to go tell Michelle, or should I?"

They might have had a heated discussion before, but this would surely make her feel better.

"I'll come with you."

As Saul opened the door, Michelle still looked like she had been crying, understandably, but she froze and perked up as Tony came in behind him. Tony looked very nervous. While part of the pain and difficulty between them was the years of familiarity, Saul recognised that they were almost like strangers to each other right now, their time apart dividing them but not destroying them. Whether Michelle tried to make things work with him or pursued her relationship with Walker didn't matter; she would be relieved, immensely, to know that the Tony she had loved was still the Tony in front of her.

Tony came to sit beside her bed, and she turned her head to face him, trying to get a read before he could speak.

"I'm taking the CIA's offer," he informed her, and she just closed her eyes with a sigh.

"Good. That's..." She laughed a little in disbelief, like she honestly hadn't been able to tell what he would say. "That's really good."

He nodded, relieved by her reaction. "I'm sorry about before–"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't be. It's been a hard day for both of us. I'm just–" She sighed. "I'm just glad you came to your senses."

"Me, too. I... I know it's going to be an adjustment, but you made me realise that it's never too late to do the right thing. I've made mistakes again, but I know this is the best way I can make up for them."

Michelle reached her hand out to caress Tony's cheek. It seemed to affect him a lot.

"I think we'll make a good team," she encouraged. "And I'm going to have your back."

"So will I," Saul added, half-wondering if he should give them more privacy, but this conversation was apparently still regarding Tony's decision about work, not their personal lives. "The way you were treated after you got out of prison the first time wasn't right. Obviously, the circumstances are different here, but Taylor wouldn't have signed off on this if she didn't believe you were trustworthy enough, so I'm not going to let anyone say otherwise."

Michelle looked over at Saul appreciatively before returning her gaze to Tony. "It means so much to me that you're doing this."

"We always wanted to end up at Langley. Better late than never, I guess," he recalled, clearly assured by her promises. "I owe it to Jack for defending me to do this. More importantly, I owe it to you to try being the good guy again."

"You haven't stopped being the good guy," Michelle said warmly but honestly, and Saul couldn't help but agree. Tony had made a lot of decisions, not always right in the moment, but ultimately, he had realised where his moral compass should point, and that seemed to give Michelle solace.

Again, Michelle's approval seemed to be very important to Tony. Saul had to wonder how much of his decision had been made based on her, and how much on himself. It was clear Tony was influenced greatly by the people he was around. Even though there was no certainty they would remarry, it appeared that that didn't matter to Tony, that he wanted to honour that part of himself regardless, a true affirmation of his character.

"I'll let you get some rest," Tony suggested, stopping only to kiss her knuckles as he got up. Although that news seemed to have assuaged Michelle, she clearly still had a lot on her mind and in her heart.

As they walked out, Saul informed Tony apologetically that he would still have to stay in holding until everything was sorted out. He offered to transfer him to the CIA, albeit with the disclaimer that their rooms were no less comfortable. 

"I'll stay here; it's fine," he said. "I know there's a lot both agencies have to work through, but I... I really appreciate what you offered. I shouldn't have been so ungrateful before."

Saul just shook his head. "It's understandable. I recognise adjusting from being on one side of the law to the other is difficult, in either direction. But I think this is best for everyone. Langley wanted you all those years ago. Now with what you've done and what you've experienced... you'll bring a perspective that the government needs, badly."

Tony nodded, those words assuring him a little more.

At the back of his mind, Saul was aware that he owed Walker an apology. He had apologised to Michelle, and sure, he hadn't directly regarded Walker with suspicion or apprehension, but he felt a need to commend her for her work. It had been tricky for her to walk the line, have her idealistic law-abiding world come crashing down, but she had ultimately aided the FBI and CIA today. More importantly... she was as loyal and caring to Michelle as Tony was, and after everything Michelle had been through, she deserved that.

Saul decided to go look for her.

If David:

• Died (Chapter 9-A, Chapter 25-A), and 
  • Renee: 
    • Walked away (Chapter 24-i) ⇥  Go to Chapter 27-i-A-III
    • Stayed at the FBI (Chapter 24-ii) ⇥  Go to Chapter 27-ii-A-III

• Survived (Chapter 9-B, Chapter 25-B), and 
  • Renee: 
    • Walked away (Chapter 24-i) ⇥  Go to Chapter 27-i-B-III
    • Stayed at the FBI (Chapter 24-ii) ⇥  Go to Chapter 27-ii-B-III

Jack checked he had everything, not that he had had much with him to start with, before walking out of the lounge room back into the bullpen, finally ready to go home. They had detained him after his trip from Sangala before the senate hearing, so he would go to Kim's hotel room, and they would try to catch a flight together. It made his heart swell. He was a grandfather. He was going to be in Kim's life again. After everything, he still had a place, still had people who loved him. On top of that, despite some trouble along the way, he had reunited with Tony and Michelle, and no longer had to mourn them the way he had. Chloe was already in LA with Morris. Bill would be hospitalised for a few more weeks, then Karen would take him back to Vermont. Of course, he was very aware of the lives that had been lost today, agents and civilians alike, he was aware of the awful secrets that had been uncovered, he was aware that the country had suffered today, but for once... he could step outside of that and acknowledge that things had worked out for him, for once in his life, things had worked out for him.

But then he heard the scream, the raw, horrible, and familiar scream, imperceptibly, the sound of a heart shattering to pieces.

People in the bullpen looked about as busy as they had before, although a few reacted to the noise. Jack walked towards the medical ward, the door to Michelle's room open. Saul and Larry were both standing and muttering to each other, while Michelle was sitting in bed. She was sobbing hysterically, her hand clasped over her mouth. There were two pieces of paper on the bed, both handwritten.

"What happened?" Jack asked.

"Tony escaped. Renee's gone AWOL."

Jack furrowed his brow. "What?"

They both elaborated. Apparently, the FBI was already searching for both of them, but the situation wasn't very hopeful. Tony was smart enough to get far away from DC or even the country before the FBI could even gather the facts. As for Renee, well, this was certainly unexpected, but she knew what she was doing, too. Jack thought back to their last conversation. He had suggested some reflection, but she had obviously gone about it in an extreme way, having bottled up her emotions all day and then no longer been able to contain them.

He came closer to Michelle, noticing that the papers were letters from Tony and Renee. He tried to comfort her, but as soon as she became aware he was there, she asked for him to get her laptop. She was panicking, her body struggling to process the shock, but somehow, her sense of drive was prevailing here, demanding her to take action.

While he commended her for her resilience, he could see blood seeping through her gown from where she had been shot. Larry noticed it, too, calling for the nurse. A second nurse came in with a syringe containing what they presumed was a sedative. The three of them didn't say anything. Jack was sure she was capable of using productivity to push through this, but she was exhausted, physically and mentally, and needed to rest.

However, Michelle wasn't as unfocused as they had presumed because she pushed the nurse holding the sedative away.

"Don't you dare," she gritted through her teeth, her voice thick from crying. "Stay the hell away from me."

Jack realised he had never seen her this angry. He had seen her at her worst. He had seen her cry. Even when she had acted cold after her divorce, it had barely masked her pain. But this was different. She looked like a bull about to charge at anyone or anything that interfered with her desire to look for Tony and Renee right now. Obviously, their sudden disappearances were difficult to accept, but Jack could tell her reaction wasn't just about that. No, she had been pushed to her breaking point, and now it was all coming out.

Michelle tried to leap out of bed and run for it, pushing through the limp in her stride from her wound, but Jack caught her, holding her in place. She cursed at him, valiantly trying to break free from his grip with an intense rage that only confirmed his suspicions. Her fists beat on his back hard enough to leave bruises, but he managed to hold her still enough for the nurse to slide the needle into the side of her neck. Even then, Michelle fought it, passing out with a scowl.

When Michelle woke, her last memory of being drugged came to the forefront of her mind. She was still groggy, but contrary to whatever their intentions had been, she was no less upset or determined than before. As she tried to gain more consciousness, she jerked around, feeling her body thump against the mattress and her vision blur. It was only the searing pain in her, likely restitched, wound that stopped her, though she damn well tried to push through it.

Someone was checking her IV, but they soon disappeared, revealing Jack sitting in a chair behind them. He had a laptop out. There was an aggravated red mark on his cheek. She didn't realise she had been that rough. Her anger about being drugged against her will remained, but she felt a little bad about it.

Jack registered she was awake, meeting her gaze, clearly ready to stop her if she tried to get out of bed. She didn't really feel like being knocked out again, and now she was confident she would collapse if she stood up, so she stayed put.

"Did I hurt you?" Michelle mumbled.

He laughed through his nose. "It's fine."

She nodded glumly.

"I've been helping the FBI look for both of them," he said, respecting that small talk was the last thing she wanted to hear right now. "If this was LA, I'd have some ideas, but the fact is..." He smiled sadly. "I obviously don't know him as much as I thought I did. I don't know what he's been doing in DC. He knows these streets better than I do. The only associates of his I know are Emerson and Schector, and they're both dead."

She sighed. Although she hadn't explicitly thought Jack might be their best shot of finding Tony, to hear him express his own despair didn't make her feel better. She appreciated his honesty, though. It hurt, but it was better than giving herself a false sense of hope.

He closed the laptop, clasping his hands and meeting her eye. "I need to tell you that I'm sorry for my part in this."

Her brow furrowed.

"I walked past Renee while she was in her office before. She told me how lost she felt, how she didn't know who or what to believe anymore, that this day had her questioning everything..." He shook his head. "I tried to tell her that she had to make choices she could live with, that nobody could tell her what to do, that she had to decide where she wanted to dedicate herself. The most I thought I was encouraging was for her to take some time to reflect or consider changing her role at the FBI, but seeing what she's done and what she wrote in that letter..." Guilt crept into his expression.

While that did surprise Michelle, she doubted Jack had been the reason for all of this. Renee would have already been having these thoughts. And really, even if he had sat her down and told her that she had to uphold her oath, that she had to be an FBI agent, she might have run off anyway out of spite. Michelle only wished Renee had thought to talk to her. The signs had been there at the hangar, really. Renee had told her how stunned she had been by the revelation that the government she worked for had been corrupted and she had known nothing about it. Although they had hardly had the time to talk today, particularly after that, Michelle wished she had found a moment here or there to assure her. They had kissed each other. They had held each other. Had that not been enough? But she had shared moments with Tony, too. She had kept Renee in the dark today. She had let Jack interrogate her, fully aware there was no line he wouldn't have crossed. She had risked Renee's life by making her impersonate Bowden, even though that hadn't exactly been her idea. She had treated Renee horribly today, when she really thought about it, and she hated that. Could a two-minute conversation or an I love you have prevented her from doing something so drastic?

Then, she thought back to the heart-to-heart she and Tony had had in the duct. They had been so honest and vulnerable with each other. He hadn't shut her out. He hadn't given her the silent treatment. It had been a choice to open up to her, but then he had turned around and decided to reject the only chance at a good life he could have been offered. When she reviewed more deeply, she acknowledged they hadn't really had a conversation about their future, just their time apart, purely so they could gain an understanding of each other's choices and clear the air a little. Had she spooked him with the CIA offer? Their intense conversation, what might have been their last conversation, hadn't exactly been encouraging. She had basically yelled at him to take something that was good for him, but hadn't stopped to consider if he actually wanted it in the first place. In some ways, she would have understood if Tony had started running Emerson's crew again, and that was technically still a possibility, but Emerson was dead; he couldn't justify that. Even running the crew to honour Emerson somehow didn't feel right. Tony couldn't be alone. He didn't do well when he was alone. Was this all an act of self-hatred, a way to punish himself and push her away again?

As Michelle had gone over the last twenty-four hours in her mind, tears had started to fall. She was staring blankly ahead. Jack apparently hadn't said anything, but from what she could see, he was looking at her with pity.

Her head turned towards him. "Did they not know how much I love them?" she asked, her voice a desperate, despondent whisper.

Jack looked like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to agree or disagree, trying to find a kind but honest way to assure her somehow. Somewhere in her mix of thoughts and feelings, she reminded herself that, technically, she hadn't lost anyone yet. She could get one, or even both, of them back. Jack couldn't get his wife back. God, she was being horrible right now. How entitled was she to vent to him when there was no reason to give up yet?

At the same time, she had every reason to give up. She was still angry and hurting, but she hadn't even thought about asking for her computer again or for a status update. She wanted closure; that was what she wanted. Even if that closure was that both of them hated her, or couldn't forgive her for her mistakes and choices. She was also afraid to fail, to let too much time pass and lose her chance of locating them. She felt mentally paralysed by her emotions. The usual drive and ambition she had within her, what she had held deep in her core to keep herself alive over these past tumultuous years, were nowhere to be found. She couldn't bring herself to work on anything else as a distraction. She could barely bring herself to speak right now. She wanted to go to bed and not wake up until Tony or Renee came out and apologised for the horrible prank they had pulled on her–

"They wouldn't have left the notes they did if they didn't care about you," Jack finally decided to say, stopping her from spiralling any deeper — for now. "But for now... I think you just need to go home and rest. Being exhausted is not going to help. More than that, when people run away like this, it's not always a matter of trying to find them. Sometimes, it's just about waiting for them to come back to you."

But would they? Tony wouldn't, unless he was willing to turn himself in and go to prison — something he clearly didn't want, and she wasn't sure if she wanted, either. As for Renee, well, it was still hard to tell whether her letter had been a way of saying she needed space or a way to say goodbye forever, which Michelle really didn't want to think about.

"Maybe that's not the case here. Maybe it is. I... I don't know. The only thing I know is that they're stubborn, and if they're not ready to be found, they won't let you– the FBI get near them."

The logic made sense, unfortunately. But she didn't want to wait for them to let themselves be found. All she could do was picture them alone with their dark and horrible thoughts, with nobody to pull them out and assure them that things would be okay, that she loved them and would care for them, that she would be there for them.

His phone rang, and he excused himself to answer it in the hall. The call was short, and didn't seem to be emotional or urgent, but she could tell there was something very light in his expression, piquing her curiosity. For a second, she wanted to believe it was about Tony or Renee, then stupidly realised there was no reason that Larry or Saul wouldn't have just come here and told her.

Even more suspiciously, he didn't look at her when he sat back down, trying to act nonchalant. Jack was a good liar. Jack could use his body language to make someone believe he was thinking one thing when he was really thinking the opposite. But he had let his guard down around her, just the way he had on the phone. He only did that around people he trusted.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

He looked up, caught slightly off-guard. "Yeah. Yeah, it's fine." For a moment, she thought that was all, and that she had read into things too much, but then he said, "Kim was just saying she's landed in LA. She's on her way home."

She blinked a few times. "Kim? I thought...?–"

"She came here for the senate hearing," he explained. "Tried looking all over to find me. I ended up talking to her while you were at Starkwood. We... we reconciled, and she wants me to come home to LA with her to meet her husband and daughter."

"Jack... Jack, that's wonderful," Michelle said warmly.

While the happiness she felt for him raised her spirits slightly, she soon found herself reminded of Tony and Renee so fast it made her chest hurt. She wasn't quite sure what had triggered it, the reminder that LA had once been her home, the thought of Kim, someone who had experienced the horrible depression she had finding someone who loved her — Michelle assumed and hoped it was not the therapist she had been seeing and a client of — or, most bittersweetly, that Kim was now a mother. Regardless, everything she had felt before and thought she had been settling became uncontrollably prominent in her mind again. Jack's conversation had managed to distract her, but just like that, her stomach was made of lead and her hands were shaking.

"Michelle," he said sympathetically, passing her a tissue as she sniffled. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't be. It's not your fault. None... none of this is your fault."

"I'm going to take you home, okay?" Jack offered softly. "You should get some rest."

Michelle bit her lip. For as much as sleep was really what she needed, enough that it might overpower her racing mind, she felt bad for Jack having to do this when he should already be on a plane by now. But she had nobody else. They were all either at home themselves or mustering their remnant energy for the searches.

"I'll... I'll just wait for Rebecca to finish or take a cab."

She sat forward, trying to ask for her phone, but found herself wincing. Although her mind wasn't foggy from the sedative anymore, whatever painkillers she had been given had probably worn off. Suddenly, her body ached, like it was trying to override her mind, and tell her that she needed to let someone help her for once in her life. It was like everything had totally caught up to her. The adrenaline crash, all her physical injuries on top of her chronic ones. She was trembling, making small whimpers and breathing labouredly. She felt like she was suddenly trapped in her own body, like her mind could work, but all her nerves were on fire.

Jack's hands helped her back into bed. He kept hushing her and called for the nurses. Michelle soon found herself sobbing uncontrollably like before. This wasn't the pain of the shock, this was the pain of the slowly creeping realisation that,for the indefinite future, she was alone. Once upon a time, being alone had been her coping mechanism, but with everything that had happened to her, the torture her heart had endured, she couldn't do it anymore.

When the nurse grabbed her arm, she didn't resist this time, a small part of her hoping that she wouldn't wake up.

Although the nurses had only given Michelle painkillers, not a second round of sedatives, she still half-dozed off in the car, for which he was glad. He wished he hadn't let her probe him. He shouldn't have brought up Kim. Even though she had been happy for him, it had been the last thing she had needed to hear.

When he pulled into her driveway, he gently touched her shoulder, prompting her to turn to him, blinking a few times.

"We're home," he informed her.

She nodded.

Jack got out and came to the other side, helping her to step out and allowing her to lean on him as he walked her into the house. He remembered her apartment being very bare and practical after her divorce. It wasn't very different now, although he had to wonder if it had changed at some point, if this house had had touches of light and sentimentality from Renee living here with her. On the bright side, at least the house wouldn't immediately remind Michelle of her, although he was sure the memories they had shared here would override that.

She looked like the walking dead, like she might collapse at any second, like the only reason he could tell she was alive was the beat of her heart.

"I'm going to shower," Michelle muttered. Before he could ask her if she was okay to do so, she added, "I have a stool. I'll be careful."

He let her go off then, deciding to put a few of her things away and turn on the lights. He wouldn't leave her without saying goodbye, and he was frankly still worried she might slip and hurt herself. More than that, he didn't feel like he should leave. He had hoped their conversation would help her, even a little. He had hoped to get through to her on some level and pull her out of her turmoil, but it was clear that he couldn't do that. It had been a mild reprieve until Kim had come up. Jack couldn't leave her like this, wouldn't leave her like this. This was not a small crisis. Her whole world had come crashing down — again.

In some ways, Jack felt like he was serving Tony, like he was doing something Tony would have asked him to, had Tony at all disclosed his intention to run. He remembered Tony buying his groceries and coming to check in after Teri died. This was an indirect way of repaying the favour for that, especially since Jack felt like he had failed to support either of them during their divorce.

His phone rang. Kim again. Since he had saved her number now, it was a very big deal for him to see her caller ID come up on his phone for the first time in years.

"Hey, sweetheart," he answered, wondering if she could already hear the lament in his voice.

"Hey, have you gotten to the airport yet?"

Jack closed his eyes, hating that it had only been a few hours, a few fucking hours, since they had reunited, and he was already letting her down again. If he could swap places with Michelle, give her the happiness he had felt reuniting with Kim today, he would do it in a heartbeat. He didn't deserve this.

"Dad?"

"Something came up with Michelle," he started to explain. "I had to take her home."

He hadn't had the chance to explain this to her before. He hadn't thought he would be staying. He had honestly thought he had gotten Michelle to a better point, but he had been a fool to think that. No, right now, he was all she had.

Kim sounded concerned as she said, "Did something happen? Is she okay?"

"Tony and Agent Walker are missing."

"I-I don't understand. I thought things were wrapping up. Were they kidnapped?"

He sighed. "No, it's not like that. They... they just left. Tony broke out of custody. Renee went AWOL. The FBI hasn't got a lead on either of them." The technicalities didn't matter, so he stopped himself from over-explaining. At the same time, he felt a need to justify why he was here with Michelle, why Michelle couldn't be alone right now. "Michelle's pretty torn up about it. I took her home. There was nobody else. She doesn't have family or friends who know she's alive, only the people inside the government." He felt like his voice was racing. "She wasn't going to be able to drive herself–"

"No, no, I get it, Dad, you should..." Kim exhaled. "You should be there with her," she said, apparently understanding the situation, but Jack could still hear the disappointment in her voice.

"As soon as I know she's okay and someone can be there for her, I'm going to get on a flight to LA. I promise, baby."

But realistically, it could be weeks or even months. He had no idea how long this would go on for, nor did the FBI or Michelle herself.

"It's alright, Dad," Kim insisted, like she had given up on the possibility altogether. "I'll let you go. Michelle needs you."

He sighed. "Alright. I love you, okay?"

"Love you, too."

As he went to hang up, he got call waiting. He didn't recognise the number.

"This is Bauer."

"It's Berenson," the voice on the other side answered. "Larry said Michelle was discharged."

"Yeah. I just took her home."

Jack could hear Saul breathing heavily, making him furrow his brow. They couldn't have already found one of them dead, surely. Why was he so stressed?

"Saul, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just would have sent someone else with you since I figured you weren't staying."

"I am staying," Jack corrected. "She doesn't have anyone else."

Saul let out a breath. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

Now, he started to feel a creeping sense of worry in his body. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know if anybody told you this, but she was on suicide watch after she thought Tony died. We nearly lost her. Walker was the only one who managed to snap her out of it. Now, she's lost both of them." Saul then said, "For the love of God, Jack, keep an eye on her. Please." It sounded like he was begging him. For Saul to be begging...

Jack's heartbeat started to sound louder and more insistent. He could hear the water running. How long had the water been running for now?

The phone fell from his hand. He felt himself bolt, yet somehow he didn't feel fast enough. That horrible feeling consumed him as he followed the noise and located the bathroom.

She gasped with fright as he barged in. He caught sight of her back, marred by scars and discolouration, as she frantically wrapped a towel around herself, sitting on a stool and leaning against the wall. Michelle was confused by his presence, blushing slightly.

"Sorry," he uttered, shaking his head and trying not to look. "Sorry. I thought-"

Jack went to leave, questioning whether he had just let Saul's worry and his guilt get the better of him, the way it had when he had interrogated Renee and gotten rough, blinded by his own memories. 

But then he caught sight of the thin, red stream of blood running down the outside of her thigh. The accompanying feeling of dread made him believe it wasn't just from her gunshot wound reopening again. His eyes widened. When he met her gaze, he saw shame. She was hiding her hands from him beneath the towel. Jack slowly walked towards her.

"Jack, get out," Michelle insisted, her tone slightly angrier. "Jack. Please. Get out of here."

He slid open the shower screen and grabbed her by the arm. Her hand clutched an open pair of sharp nail scissors. She was squeezing so hard that she had made a thin slit in her palm. She protested and tried to fight his grip as he compressed the bleeding with one hand, using the other to move her towel, only as much as necessary, to reveal a much larger, deeper gash on her upper thigh. 

Michelle was screaming for him to leave her, borderline hysterical. There was another towel on a nearby rack that he grabbed, tearing a strip off so he could start wrapping it around her thigh, ignoring her attempts to shove him away. He wiped some of the water from the showerhead off his face, working to keep both wounds compressed and hushing her, but she wouldn't have it. He thought he had seen her break before. He was wrong. She had been angry and shocked upon first hearing the news, desperate to take action. But now, the depression had started to sink in, accelerated by her tumultuous history, by all the pain she had endured these past five or so years. He remembered getting to this point of raw agony and almost delirium after Teri had died. It had taken him a few weeks, but he had gotten there, he had been this bad, pacing around his apartment, putting a gun to his head then moving it away from him like it was a cursed object.

But he had gotten himself out of it by thinking about Kim, somehow able to overpower his thoughts that she was better off without him. Michelle didn't have that.

"Jack, stop it!" she howled, hitting him like she had before, now tearfully pleading him to let her be, to let her do this, but he wouldn't have it, he wouldn't lose her. 

He went to remind her that Tony and Renee were still out there, but for her to have decided this was the best way to deal with it, she had obviously concluded that even if they showed up in a few days, a few weeks, a few months, her heart had already been shattered. Whatever trust and assurance those relationships had been built on, that foundation, had been crushed by their departures. It didn't matter that they were alive. Their collective actions had hurt her and reminded her of her loneliness in this world, made her feel unworthy, made her feel like she wasn't allowed to have good things. The damage had been done.

Jack turned the water off, making her wails sound even louder. He covered her with her towel again, apologising quietly for scaring her.

Their eyes met. "They left me," she said brokenly. "They both left me."

"I know," he whispered. "I know."

But no, he didn't. Historically, he had been the leaver in his relationships, the one to close himself off physically and emotionally when things got hard, not wanting to hold the other back. He had lost people, too many people, in horrible, horrible ways, but it had made him reluctant to get close to people as a result, to put distance between them so the inevitable pain of losing them wouldn't hurt so much. He could see now that Renee had helped Michelle rebuild herself after losing Tony, that she had been her light, vaguely analogous to how Emerson had been there for Tony. Then, she had believed she had gotten Tony back, that they had come to some understanding, and both of them had left her.

She made a noise akin to a wounded animal, turning her face into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her. Her body was trembling. She struggled to breathe, and he tried his best to keep her grounded, holding her tightly.

Tony and Renee had both made their choices, independently, but Jack had to wonder if either of them would have changed their mind had the other decided a little sooner. They hadn't done it to hurt Michelle. Jack was sure they hadn't. But it didn't change the fact that their decisions had broken her. They had probably each thought she would be better off with the other.

If only Tony and Renee knew how wrong they had been.

You've reached ending #1 out of 13. Try a different combination of choices to see what happens!

The last person Tony expected to find on the other side of the glass was Michelle, yet here she was. She had not come to his sentencing, but Tony imagined she had come to learn the facts, regardless. Whether it had been because of the awful reminder of his first time in prison or her current anger at him, likely a bit of both, he had not blamed her.

Michelle took her seat and picked up the phone. The glass was a little smudged, but it was still plain to see that she wasn't doing well. Her eyes were red-rimmed, the circles beneath them almost black. She looked pale, like she hadn't seen the sun in the almost two months between that calamitous day and now. For some reason, it made him pause. He had expected her to be upset, but this was too severe of a reaction, especially given the support she had.

"What?" she asked bitterly.

"You... you don't look well." It sounded more offensive and stupid out loud than it did in his head. No shit, she wasn't well. It was his fault.

She just scoffed. "I've lost two people important to me in the last two months, so no, I'm not well, Tony." 

His brow furrowed. Two people?

Michelle exhaled. "Of course. You wouldn't know because you were too busy playing the martyr to give a shit."

When he thought about it, he, too, had lost two people important to him during this period. However, he dismissed it quickly because he only had himself to blame. It was his fault David was dead. And it was his fault that a pane of glass was separating him and Michelle right now, such that he couldn't help her. He wouldn't dare voice a shred of regret He remained set in his decision. However, he still couldn't quite figure out what had happened with Michelle, and he hated to think that had he been able to make this choice after, he might have been able to help her, though he tried to remind himself that he had made his choice for himself, not her, no matter how intertwined their needs were.

"Michelle, what happened?"

"Renee's missing."

"Missing?"

She squared her jaw. "While you were telling me that you weren't taking the CIA's deal, she wrote me a note, walked out of the FBI, and hasn't been seen since."

His eyebrows rose. He recalled how conflicted and angry she had been about the FBI being kept in the dark during the investigation. But after both agencies had started working together more transparently, she had seemed fine. She had been a critical figure in getting Wilson. Going AWOL wasn't something she would have done lightly. And while sometimes a decision like that was a cry for help, if Renee hadn't left any breadcrumbs for Michelle, by the looks of it, it was more likely that she didn't want to be found, that she would isolate herself to the point of numbness as a coping mechanism. After all, he would know. They both would, really.

Michelle sniffled, pointedly trying to keep her composure. "Damn the both of you."

"I'm sorry–"

"You're sorry? I'm terrified they're going to call me in the middle of the night saying you were shivved. Meanwhile, I have to ask myself whether they're going to pull Renee out of the Potomac because I have no fucking idea where she is or where to find her."

The ambiguity was what made it so awful. He at least knew David was gone for good, and more than that, that even if he was still alive, he would have wanted nothing to do with him. It didn't make it hurt any less, but there was closure, and she didn't have that. Her life was basically on pause until she found Renee, dead or alive.

Tony noticed that Michelle was staring at him, apparently with concern, which only made him feel worse. He might be hurting too, right now, seeing her face, being reminded of his own loss, but he didn't deserve sympathy, especially from her.

"I can't– You really thought this was the right choice? Thirty years, no parole, you're telling me that was better than working for the CIA, likely for much less time?"

He sighed, looking down into his lap.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," she demanded. "You owe me that."

So he did. He dared himself to meet her gaze, accepting the familiar expression of disappointment, shame, and worry.

"If you had broken out and rounded up Emerson's crew members to take over his operations, I would have been upset, but I would have understood. It would have been a way of expressing your love to him, that you were loyal to him and wanted to honour that."

It took him a moment to digest those words, that she actually would have been happier if he had chosen to run away rather than punished himself. He still adamantly refused to consider that any of this had been for her benefit, that this had been an attempt to push her away and guide her towards Renee, whom he had trusted to love and care for her. But it made him question the way she loved him and regarded him, whether it had never been about doing the right thing, just being loyal to someone or something, one way or another.

"But this, this," she gestured to him, "doesn't make any sense. Like the judge said — yes, I read the transcript — you're punishing yourself, not redeeming yourself. This might be some big act of retribution for you, this might make you feel like you're doing something right, but you didn't stop to think about how it would affect the people who care about you!"

Her voice had risen enough for people to stare, although an emotional outburst in a prison visitation setting was hardly unusual. She was breathing so heavily that she was fogging up the glass. She banged on it once, hot tears streaming down her face. If there wasn't a barrier between them, she might have slapped him and he would have taken it, if only to envelop her in his arms and tell her how sorry he was for what she was going through.

"I get you're upset about Renee. I'm sorry. If... if I had known at the time that she had done that, I wouldn't..."

He couldn't even finish the sentence before she gave him a dirty look.

"Don't fucking pity me. No, you wouldn't have."

Tony let out a breath. No, he probably wouldn't have. But he recognised that, had he not done this, he would have been able to be there for her, to some extent. This wasn't the way he should be supporting her. But it was all he could do now.

"I just mean that I'm sorry I can't be there for you now or help you," he amended.

It didn't seem to make her feel any better, as she reminded him again that this was his fault. She obviously didn't blame him for Renee's choice, but she pointed out that even if Renee was here, his choice still would have impacted her deeply. But then she paused, her posture straightening as she said, "But this is what you want, isn't it? To be punished and reminded of all the things you hate about yourself?"

He shrugged vaguely. Again, she wasn't wrong.

"Well, I'm not giving you the satisfaction."

It was at that moment that she got up and left, slamming the phone back down on the receiver. It was only when she turned around that his own tears started to fall.

Tony had told himself he had made that choice of his own volition, that it didn't matter if Michelle hated him or not, but he had been wrong. He stood by the idea of not wanting to be a Fed anymore, or a criminal, but he recognised his position of apparent neutrality had been the worst choice he could have made in her eyes.

He would never earn her forgiveness, but maybe there was something he could do, even if it wouldn't be enough.

As Michelle got home, thankfully having avoided her neighbours whose cheeriness was not what she needed right now, she shut her front door loud enough to make some of her furniture rattle. She wasn't sure how she had expected to feel after that visit, but recognised in hindsight that it had been the last thing she had needed. Her heart was aching with worry for Renee, her mind re-reading the words in the letter from memory and trying to find new interpretations, none of which were helpful or assuring, and instead of taking time for herself or being proactive in finding her, she had gone to speak to the only person capable of making her feel worse.

She had managed to run some errands afterwards, purely to avoid being home alone again, but it had been exhausting, so, she just ended up sitting on the ground against the front door, kicking off her shoes and letting out a scream, hugging her knees into her chest. She had never cried as much as she had in these last few weeks. Even in the depths of her depression after her coma, she had been numb and listless, and taken drastic measures, but she hadn't felt angry like this. It would have been a struggle even if only one of these horrible things had happened, but both of them were just too much to bear.

Her cell rang, and although she wanted nothing more than to throw it at the wall and smash it to pieces, she recognised that she still had to answer to Larry or Saul. Technically, her work had been tabled for now, but if something urgent was happening, she would have to be there. The country going through a crisis would actually be a welcome distraction, the only thing she felt like she could have control over right now.

It was indeed Saul, so she answered, clearing her throat to sound a little stronger, although, in all honesty, it was pointless; Saul had seen her during her worst days, and while their working relationship hadn't gotten off to a great start, one thing was for certain: they never bullshitted each other.

"How are you holding up?" he asked.

She sighed. "I went to see him today."

Her mind replayed the last thing she had said to Tony. Her statement had been strong, but did she really believe it? Did he? Would she come back, if only to yell at him some more but also to feel a little less alone, though she would never admit it? Maybe so he would feel less alone, too? She hated that she was thinking about him and how lonely he would feel, having lost Emerson. No matter how angry she was, she just couldn't stop herself from caring about him, and that made it hurt even more.

Saul hummed. "That explains a lot. I'm actually at the warden's office now." 

Her brow furrowed. 

"With Tony."

That struck her with panic, leading her to ramble about whether he had ensured nobody had seen him and Tony together, reminding him that, even with his recent history, he would still be known as a Fed in prison and would already be regarded with suspicion by the other inmates. But Saul cut her off, explaining that Tony had been brought into the warden's office innocuously and privately.

"Alright, then what... what's going on?"

"Tony's made an offer to be the CIA's eyes and ears inside the prison. There are a lot of high-profile players in there. He thinks he can get close to them."

Maybe if this had happened several years ago, maybe even during his first time in prison, she would have understood or even welcomed that offer. But after the choice he had made, this was both reckless and insulting.

"He'll get himself killed," she countered bluntly.

"Tony is aware of the risk," Saul explained calmly.

Her hand gripped the phone fiercely. "Is he still there with you?"

"Michelle–"

"Is he still there with you?" Michelle repeated, gritting through her teeth.

Saul sighed. "Yeah."

"Put him on the phone."

The audio was muffled for a moment, but she heard Saul say, "Your wife wants to speak with you," in a tone that one would use to describe a dog with rabies. She was past giving a shit what anybody thought of her. After everything, everything, she had been through and was still going through, she had no capacity or desire to be patient.

As soon as Tony said her name, she exclaimed, "Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Michelle, I–"

"No, you don't get to do this," she stated, cutting him off. "You don't get to act like you want to be the good guy again just to please me. I told you I don't need your pity. You've already hurt me. What– You think this is going to fix everything?"

He tried to insist otherwise, apparently surprised and annoyed by her reaction, which only proved she was right, that he was doing this as a pathetic, thoughtless attempt to rectify something he couldn't.

"I shouldn't even need to point out that this will get you killed, too. Now maybe you want that. But I'm not letting that happen. You don't get out of this that easily."

Tony huffed. "Then what do you want?"

"What I want is to not have everyone I love in my life leave me without an explanation or care for how I feel!" she blurted, her voice breaking.

"Tell me what I can do, then," he begged softly. "If there's something I can do, I'll do it."

That briefly reminded her of Jack, who had gone back to LA with Kim. She was more than happy for him. He didn't deserve to be involved in this mess. He had done enough. Apparently, he had spoken to Tony with as much disapproval and anger as she had while he had still been at the FBI. She had already made a point of telling Jack she would be fine, even though he clearly hadn't believed her, not when they had been down this road before and this time, she was coping with Renee's disappearance on top of it. But he also respected her boundaries, and had let her go, saying for her to call if she needed anything. She hadn't, and she probably wouldn't, unless Renee was somehow found in LA — of all the places Renee might have escaped to, sunny and happy LA was an unlikely contender — and he could make sure she didn't run again.

"There's nothing you can do," Michelle said plainly. "You've made your choice. Now live with it."

It came out with vitriol, something she had never directed towards him, but the sad part was... she couldn't blame it on the heat of the moment. It was true: there was nothing he could do.

You've reached ending #2 out of 13. Try a different combination of choices to see what happens!

Tony was certainly more than familiar with things going wrong, just as they seemed to be finally going right, but it didn't change how much it hurt every time it happened. Although this time, it wasn't his life that was in pieces. On the contrary, he was finally getting back his sense of morality, duty, and stability, something he falsely thought had been long gone.

It had only been about five minutes after he had seen Michelle's face light up at the news that he was taking the CIA's offer that Larry had come in, worriedly announcing that Renee was missing. Michelle had desperately asked for a laptop, and basically hadn't taken her eyes off it since. It didn't help that Michelle was beyond depleted, and should be resting on account of all her injuries, but was forcing herself to stay awake. She had re-opened her wound from tensing her core so tightly, but had persisted in searching for Renee as the nurses had tried to re-stitch it.

Of course, Tony had tried to help, too, by analysing every word in Renee's letter and trying to understand her state of mind to make an educated guess about where she might have gone since searching traffic cameras was proving futile. Michelle was pointedly sticking with the theory that Renee had run away somewhere to clear her head, but Tony could also sense a different kind of darkness beneath Renee's words. Renee had obviously been driven to her breaking point, but Tony just hoped she hadn't done something she couldn't undo. That being said, Tony didn't know Renee the way Michelle did. Nobody did, really, although Janis and Larry were as good as they could get. 

He couldn't imagine how Michelle was feeling. Sure, he was dealing with a great loss today, too, but there was closure to it. Even if David could be brought back from the dead, nothing would change; he had destroyed his relationship with him. David would never forgive him. It hurt, God, it hurt, but it was done, and ultimately, he had chosen a path that didn't align with David anymore, regardless. He would mourn that loss, and hold on to those years together in his heart, but he had no need to stop his life over it. But for Michelle... this had been so out of the blue, there was so much ambiguity and so many questions. There was no rhyme or reason to Renee's actions, which made finding Renee difficult both in the sense of trying to locate an adept FBI agent who didn't want to be found and trying to grasp Renee's mindset to even find a place to start.

By now, the lights had been dimmed in the hospital ward, the nurses' way of subtly trying to get her to sleep, but she just stared at the bright screen. Technically, she could have been discharged by now, but she clearly had no intention of leaving the premises. While Tony recognised that with missing people, the first twenty-four hours were critical, he also recognised that Michelle wouldn't be able to think clearly like this.

Tony warily rested his hand on hers. "Michelle, you need to sleep," he said quietly. "If you want to find her, you need to be thinking straight–"

"I'm fine," she insisted. "I can't... I can't just quit. What if something happened to her? What if I'm the only one who can figure this out? She left that note for me. I'll find her. I know I will."

He sighed. He knew there was no way he would convince her to close the laptop, but she was at her wit's end. Her fingers were trembling. She had to keep blinking to force her eyes open, which were becoming progressively teary.

"She's strong," he reminded her, not to be pitiful, but to give her some solace. "She's strong, and she's okay."

"You don't know that!" she refuted, turning to look at him.

"I know," Tony conceded. "But getting a few hours of sleep won't change anything."

Michelle opened her mouth like she was going to fight him again, but she just slumped her shoulders, not staring at anything in particular. He slowly placed his hand on the laptop, and she let him close it and set it on the table beside them.

He knew he should just let her rest, and go back to his holding cell, but he didn't feel right leaving her. Being alone was the last thing she wanted right now, and from experience, Michelle liked to isolate herself when she was upset, much the way he did. It wouldn't be right to leave her, although he was very conscious of the fragile boundaries between them.

"Could you stay?" she whispered, her voice slightly choked.

Tony nodded, and judging by how she gingerly shifted along the bed, he knew there was no doubt she wanted him with her. He had gotten changed and showered earlier, so he didn't smell of gunpowder or blood anymore as he carefully got into the bed beside her. It was a narrow space, and he also had to make sure she was on the correct side to avoid aggravating her injuries, but it made his chest clutch at how easily, how simply, they both fit.

Michelle let out a muffled whimper, her body starting to shudder as she let out her tears. He hushed her, pushing a hair from her forehead, which only made her curl into him tighter. His eyes closed as he held her, his own body giving into fatigue, using its remaining energy to just hold her in a way that made her feel safe. He stirred slightly as a nurse came in to sedate Michelle a little, something she had refused before. As it kicked in, her cries ceased.

They both managed to sleep until morning, disturbed by the sounds of people coming and going from work, somehow waking up around the same time, like their bodies had remembered how to synchronise their internal clocks. Her hand was still fiercely on his waist, as her head was tucked into the crook of his neck and shoulder. They were very, very close to each other. As she woke up, she became aware of this, too, biting her lip slightly.

Her eyes met his. She was asking for something, but he wasn't quite sure if he should give it to her. It wasn't that he didn't want to comfort her or be there for her in this way, but she had such a big decision on her mind — conditional, of course, on them finding Renee; Tony doubted she wanted to consider the possibility of otherwise — and he didn't want to make it any messier. Nothing could be casual between them; nothing ever had been. With their line of work, and everything they had gone through, there was such an electric intensity to their actions and how they regarded each other, now more than ever.

"You've lost someone, too," Michelle said as though reading his mind, and while that reminder broke him, her voice somehow making it much more real than seeing the look in David's eyes, it still didn't feel right. She still had hope. She was just too upset to recognise that.

He shook his head, his voice wobbling a little as he reminded her, "You haven't lost Renee. She's out there, and you'll find her."

"But right now, I have you," she whispered desperately, "and I... I can't be alone. Please, don't leave me alone."

It was harder to deny her now, not when she was begging him like this, not when she was likely still feeling some insecurity over their conversation from the day prior. That tension was certainly underlying; Renee's disappearance just took great precedence over it. He needed her to know that he cared about her. It didn't matter if they didn't get back together. She needed support, and, unlike the last six years, now, he could be there for her.

Their lips met, everything feeling so familiar and so right, her hand sliding under his shirt, while his cupped her face. Nothing else was going to happen, though. For one, they could be walked in on at any second. But more than that, a kiss was enough of a big step; anything more, and he would feel like he was taking advantage of her.

Soon enough, though, she pulled away, looking like she was confused by her own request. But then, as their eyes met again, she became apologetic. Whether it was over the kiss or her abrupt ceasing of the kiss was indeterminable. 

"It's okay," Tony said assuringly, not wanting her to think he was disappointed either way. "It's okay."

Her eyes crinkled. "I'm sorry. I feel like I'm using you."

"I'm here for you," he just informed her. "Right now, you're dealing — we're both dealing — with something. One day, we'll both come out on the other side, but for now... I'm here for you."

She took a moment to digest those words, giving a small and slow nod. He expected her to resume the kiss, but she just squeezed him tightly. He sighed, tucking them both back into their position from before.

Her future, their future, held so much uncertainty, but he would be her rock if she needed him to be.

Three weeks had passed, but they were no closer to finding Renee. Although Michelle continued to hold strong in the belief that Renee was just hiding herself very well, but was otherwise fine, it was hard to ignore the possibility that they wouldn't be finding her alive, that Renee had been very distracted and very upset, and that it had cost her her life. Nobody had voiced this around Michelle, but she had noticed the hushed whispers that would cease when she came into the room.

Saul had been kind enough not to give her too much work regarding the conspiracy, allowing her to use whatever time and resources she needed to keep searching for Renee, with Larry's support. It was hard not to convince herself she was being utterly selfish, but after everything she had sacrificed and endured, on top of being one of the only people who knew Renee well enough to be able to find her, she couldn't just handball this to someone else or let it fade from priority.

Tony had been there for her, too, also forgoing work on the conspiracy, and while, initially, it had been a blessing since she was afraid to be alone, knowing it would remind her painfully of those first days in the hospital, now, she had to ask herself if it was really what she needed. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate him or that he wasn't helping her; by God, he was, particularly because communication between them was so easy, having known each other for so long. But every time his hand came to her shoulder, or they hugged just a second longer than they should, or they kissed on a whim and parted a few seconds later and pretended it hadn't happened, it only made her feel more conflicted. She felt like she wasn't supposed to be thinking about relationships right now. How could she when someone she loved so dearly was missing? On one hand, she could convince herself that Renee clearly didn't want her around if she had disappeared the way she had. On the other, with the way Renee had written that letter, the cry for help cryptic, but apparent, Michelle had to believe it was her responsibility to find Renee. When she tried to remind herself of the latter, it only made her feel guilty, like she was stringing Tony along or just using him for comfort until she found Renee. It wasn't how she wanted to do this.

"Michelle?" Tony asked, and she registered it wasn't the first time he had said her name.

She wasn't sure how long she had been staring at the screen for. As she looked around herself, she noticed Tony had made her a cup of coffee, clearly some time ago, judging by the lack of steam. Her eyes went to the clock. They had spent all of their Sunday afternoon pursuing this search. Apparently, a day off meant nothing to either of them, but Tony looked exhausted, and she hated the idea of him doing all this for her. It wasn't right.

Finally, she met his gaze, plainly concerned and pitiful for her.

"You look like you're going to pass out," he said. "Why don't I make you something to eat?"

It was a simple gesture, but it was her breaking point. She couldn't keep doing this, spiralling about every nice thing he did for her, overthinking their interactions. It was too much for her to handle right now.

"Michelle–"

"Just... just stop doing that, okay?" Michelle snapped, tears brimming her eyes. "Stop... being nice to me."

It spoke wonders of the how well they knew each other that it took him all of five seconds to deduce what she meant, that it wasn't about him making her something to eat or giving her a hug, it was about the connotations of every little gesture.

"We're supporting each other. It doesn't have to mean anything," he claimed, but neither of them really believed it.

She shook her head. "You know that's not true. Not when it comes to us."

He sighed, conceding.

"I appreciate you helping me search for Renee," Michelle amended. "But this... it's just not the time. Every time I let you in, I feel like I'm giving up on Renee, and then thinking about Renee makes me feel like I'm just using you, and that's not what this is. I don't want that."

"But it isn't. Like you said, I... I'm dealing with loss, too. It's for both of us."

That only made her feel worse, the reminder that she could actually get Renee back while he had no chance of getting David back, not with the combination of logistics and how principled he was about loyalty. Although Tony had chosen to work for the CIA of his own volition, the reminder that he was, to some degree, trying to redeem himself in her eyes and mend their relationship, platonic or otherwise, was not what she needed.

She sniffled. "I'm sorry."

"Someone you love and care about is missing. You don't need to be sorry."

Michelle let out a long breath, burying her face in her hands. She was aware of him moving from his position at her dining table to come console her on the couch. There was hesitancy to his movements, like he wasn't sure if he could hug her, and she hated that she was making him feel like that, but also recognised it came from his own insecurity, too.

"We're here for each other," he reminded her. "I know we keep thinking about the past and the future, but right now, we're here for each other, and that's all that matters."

She tried to cling to his words and truly believe them. She wanted to. She wanted him to comfort her and vice versa, but it was so hard to navigate that in the context of everything that had happened. At the same time, when he put it like that, it was hard to resist. Not when she needed the assurance now more than ever that he, that someone, was there for her. She had nearly lost both of them. She had nearly lost other people she worked with and cared for, too. And even though she hadn't lost Renee yet and refused to believe that she would, right now... Tony was here for her, and she was here for him, too.

Michelle lifted her head, finding his gaze. He wiped a tear from under her eye. She cupped his cheek and pulled him down to meet her lips. He kissed her back, but just like that night in the ward and every moment since, they both paused and looked at each other with worry.

"What do you want?" he asked very quietly.

She wanted to feel loved. She wanted to feel like she wasn't alone.

"What do you want?" she echoed.

"Do we need to say it?"

And that was enough for her to know their feelings were mutual. Michelle kissed him again, pushing him gently against the couch cushions. Her sweater ended up on the floor, as did her laptop — with much more care, of course. 

He stilled as he noticed her bare chest. Most of the bruises from fighting Bowden were gone, but the scars, of course, were still there, would always be there. She hadn't really undressed around him, not properly, since their reunion. Slowly, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to one of them, then another, and another, like he wanted to acknowledge them, acknowledge that she had suffered the way he had. But it was hard because it reminded her too much of Renee. Although the memory of those scars was associated with her guilt over killing him and their son, the memory of those scars being given affection was so deeply associated with Renee. It was too much, to have such a strong reminder of Renee and how much she had cared for her and healed her, all the while having Tony bring her back mentally to six years ago, to when things were so much simpler, albeit falsely so.

She didn't want to think right now. So, she put some distance between them, peeled off his shirt, and shifted down so his lips could catch hers. Their hands soon found familiar places. No matter how much they had tried to preface this with the disclaimer that it would be merely physical and have no bearing on their relationship, it was easy to refute that with the eye contact, the wordless communication, the way everything just came together. It was like they had been apart for minutes, not years.

While she would still be living in limbo until Renee was found, to know he was here for her in the meantime and beyond... was everything she needed.

You've reached ending #3 out of 13. Try a different combination of choices to see what happens!

While Michelle was not unfamiliar with feeling a mixture of emotions, she was quite sure she had never felt such dichotomous emotions before. The bittersweet contentment regarding Tony's decision to spend the rest of his life with Emerson was so contrasting to the worry and displeasure regarding Renee's sudden departure. Michelle wasn't bitter, though, by any means. How could she be when she was so concerned for her? Michelle did, to some extent, though, blame herself for her Renee going AWOL in the first place. The note she had left implied to Michelle that she had felt lost and needed to figure things out on her own. While Michelle was okay with giving her some space, she didn't like that nobody knew where she was or if she was okay. It made her feel very conflicted about whether she should be looking for her. Obviously, Michelle wanted to find Renee, but she feared making her search known to her would only drive her away further. Renee needed to be receptive to help. If Michelle pushed too hard, it would only drive her away more.

It wasn't like Tony wasn't on her mind, though. To some degree, she had the same fears about him, not knowing where he was, but having Emerson with him gave her some solace regarding his safety, at least. Admittedly, she had tried to convince herself, perhaps delusionally, that Tony and Emerson were going into retirement to allay her concerns. They would be foolish to draw attention to themselves by inciting a major attack or even just making themselves known in the criminal underworld of wherever they were. More than that, it would prove a point that Emerson, despite having his own intentions, ultimately loved and cared for Tony the way she had. She would never be able to look past the things they had both done, but she could recognise that, one, Tony probably felt that way towards her, too, and two, they were happy. Frankly, after what they had all endured, they deserved to hold on to joy wherever they could find it.

Her phone buzzed, not startling her very much since she had hardly slept, despite the painkillers she was on. It was Jack. He had checked in on her almost every day since heading back to LA to be with Kim, something she was very glad about.

"Hey," she answered.

"Hey," he replied quietly. From what she recalled, he was staying with Kim and her family until he could find a place to rent, so it made sense if he was trying not to make too much noise. "You sound like you're wide awake," he commented sympathetically.

Michelle laughed through her nose. "And you'd be right."

"How are you holding up?"

She knew he didn't mean her physical injuries.

"I just– All I want to know is that she's okay. I can accept that Tony has Emerson, but... Renee's by herself, and she's not thinking straight."

"I'm sorry for my part in this."

"Don't be," she said emphatically. "You were trying to give her advice. You couldn't have known that she would have interpreted it that way."

"I know." He didn't sound very convincing. "I just have to ask myself if it could have been prevented."

Michelle had asked herself that same question, replayed every moment of that day in her mind, wondered if there had been a time when Renee had needed support and she hadn't given it. In many ways, she had failed Renee. She had kept her out of the loop on everything regarding Bill and Chloe, largely to protect her, but it had still come across as betrayal. She had revealed the truth about her work at the FBI quite bluntly. Renee had seen the impact of the conspiracy and been hit with the reality of the government she served. Of course, it would have been difficult for her to grapple with it all. Michelle just wished that she had taken five minutes, five God damned minutes, to talk to her, to remind her that she was there for her, Tony's resurgence notwithstanding, and, most importantly, to praise her for the work she had done because they wouldn't have succeeded without her. Based on the wording of the letter, Renee hadn't felt that way, hadn't felt like she had achieved anything, and Michelle hated that more than anything because it simply wasn't true.

"Even if it could have... it doesn't change anything about now."

"Yeah," he agreed, barely audible.

"How's everyone?" Michelle asked, wanting to change the topic.

"They're good," Jack answered. The difference in his voice was very noticeable. She rarely heard him speak like this. "I still feel like I have to pinch myself. I... I never thought I'd see her this happy. And I never thought seeing her so happy would make me happy, too."

She smiled, although it was still hard to be reminded of the loss of her and Tony's son. It wasn't that she was jealous or resentful of Kim. It was just that she still wanted a family, more than she would ever admit to herself. Having almost had and subsequently lost that opportunity had intensified that desire for her more than she had realised.

"I'm so glad," Michelle said warmly. "I really am."

"I'll tell her that. She's worried about you, too," Jack added. "But, I'll let you go for now. You should get some sleep."

Michelle hummed in assent.

"Let me know if there's anything I can do."

Even if there was, she probably wouldn't. She wouldn't dare disturb his peace.

"I will," she lied. "Talk to you later."

"Good night, Michelle."

"Night."

Michelle hung up with a sigh. Going to bed still seemed about as impossible as before, so, for the umpteenth time this week, Michelle pulled out her laptop and opened up the street camera footage that she had saved. Renee had done well to cover her tracks, but the blurry snippets that remained were almost sentimental to Michelle. They gave zero information about where Renee might have gone, but they were all the FBI had right now. They really were at a loss. All of her family and friends interstate and overseas had been contacted. None of them had heard from Renee, and the genuine worry in their voices had put paid to any theories that they were covering for her. Michelle thought she could try to gauge where Renee might be — or might have been, if she was moving around quickly — just based on instinct, but she couldn't bring herself to change the screen, staring at the frame with tear-blurred vision.

"Where are you, baby?" Michelle whispered.

They really shouldn't have stayed in Europe this long, but both of them had been too enamoured to leave. David hadn't been back in years, and was enjoying showing Tony around, telling him all the secrets that tourists seldom knew. It was stressful having to be so pedantic covering their tracks, knowing that Interpol had probably sent their faces to every agency here. David having a five o'clock shadow and him having something that made him vaguely resemble a Greek priest helped, but they still needed to get out of here eventually.

For now, though, they would enjoy Paris, do all the stupid things that couples did in Paris, right down to leaving a lock on the Pont des Arts, which would be the last thing they did before they left. But as they walked away from the small locksmith (David had insisted the ones closer to the bridge were overpriced) David suddenly stopped in his tracks, yanking him into a nearby alley.

"What?" Tony asked worriedly. "Cop? Interpol?"

David shook his head, gesturing with his thumb towards a figure that Tony soon identified as Renee Walker. Initially, he panicked, figuring that the FBI had caught onto them, that they had made a grave error somewhere. But as he looked closer, he realised he didn't have much cause for concern, just confusion. She didn't seem to be carrying a badge, nor was she wearing her windbreaker. If she had a gun on her, Tony couldn't tell. Her shoes were regular sneakers. Tony doubted she was in plain clothes in an effort to blend in and catch him and David out. For one, she wouldn't be alone, and he would have recognised another nearby agent, just based on demeanour. She didn't seem to be looking around her or speaking into a radio, either.

What the hell was she doing here, then?

Tony looked back at David, who just cocked a brow. "I didn't realise the FBI hired vampires. Or was it that you and Bauer helped her, given that she was... important to your wife?"

He rolled his eyes. "She's here on her own. I can tell."

"And that's not suspicious to you at all? Why should that matter if she's ultimately here looking for us?"

"That's the thing: I don't think she is."

"Well, you better make sure you know for sure."

His shoulders slumped. They were supposed to be staying out of trouble. David and his damned paranoia sometimes...

"You're serious?"

"We have to be sure," David insisted. "It won't matter where we go if she's following us."

He did have a point, although Tony maintained his theory. They would have to go about this carefully. This had to be a clean grab. Renee would put up a fight — although the apparent relaxing of her guard might help. And then they would definitely need to flee the continent afterwards.

"Alright," Tony agreed. "How are we doing this?"

Paris. What the hell was she doing in Paris, the city of love, when she wanted nothing more than to be alone right now? She had been going off an ad hoc policy of taking the soonest flight to any country — except the United States, obviously — whenever she felt like she had been in one place for too long. But Renee had made some exceptions, so she could only conclude she had come to — and stayed in — Paris to punish herself, like that would somehow make things better.

She had sat on a bench and watched pigeons butt heads with each other over baguette crumbs, all the couples, young and old walking blissfully, like Renee could sense how much simpler their lives were — she was sure she was being overly cynical, but her problems were surely more intense compared to the average civilian — and the sun setting over the horizon.

She missed Michelle so much that it made her whole body ache.

Renee felt like an idiot for having done what she had, but she couldn't go back on it now. What agent went AWOL then showed up less than two weeks later saying everything was fine? More than that, it wasn't fine. Her heart still held the conflict from that day. She didn't know what the hell she wanted to do, where her place was in her own life, let alone Michelle's. It wasn't that she was expecting things to be the same. For all she knew, Michelle was still trying to negotiate and talk with Tony about their future. She maintained her desire to give Michelle space. But Renee just felt more lost than ever.

Although she had very little care for her well-being right now, instinct drove her to get up, not feeling like getting mugged or worse, just because she was gloomy. She had been staying in a hostel not too far from the city. Most of the other people there were Western tourists, like herself, but she had refrained from interacting with them, and had made a point of keeping her belongings, few as she might have with her, hidden, as well as having used all the usual tricks that would determine whether anybody had snooped through her room.

It didn't take long for the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up, jolting her slightly out of her depressed numbness and making her usual reflexes kick into overdrive. She was being followed. Carefully, her hand went to her weapon. She wouldn't withdraw it unless she was certain she needed it. Technically, she had a permit, from a contact she had made in preparation for her undercover work all those years ago — not that it had ever come to fruition. But it wasn't a very legitimate one, and it wasn't in her name, so she didn't feel like being questioned. More than that, she had to remind herself she was supposed to be blending in like a tourist. Although her French was decent, she didn't feel like explaining herself to the police, especially without a badge to prove her identity. Leaving her badge behind had been symbolic, and necessary for her mental state, but she forgot how often she relied on having it to avoid having to explain herself to people — particularly, men.

"Renee," someone called, their voice more than familiar, and she found herself looking at Tony, although it took her a second to identify him with certainty, on account of his overgrown facial hair. He was blocking one of the entrances of the narrow side-street she was in. She didn't like that.

Although Tony looked quite calm when she met his gaze, she was pretty damn confused. Had he been looking for her? Actually, scratch that–

"What the hell are you doing out of custody?" she blurted. "And what are you doing here?"

He just chuckled. "I could ask you the same."

Renee narrowed her eyes at him. "You broke out, didn't you?" she concluded. "You son of a bitch. How could you do that to her?"

A flash of guilt appeared in his expression, but then someone else said, "He could say the same right back at you," and the instant recognition of the voice made her blood run cold.

She turned around slowly, finding Emerson standing on the opposite side of the alley. They had boxed her in. Renee wished she had eyes on the side of her head so she could keep an eye on them simultaneously. Emerson didn't seem surprised that she was alive, but she hoped that meant he wouldn't want to rectify Jack's failure in killing her.

"We just need to have a chat," Emerson said calmly, almost with amusement.

He stepped closer, and so did Tony. Under any other circumstances, she would scream, and although she certainly wasn't pleased about this, she realised that she trusted Tony not to hurt her — at the very least, because he cared about Michelle, and by extension, her. The one thing she could say for certain about Tony was that he would never jeopardise his wife's happiness, which made her really question her assumptions about his apparent abandonment of her.

"I'll go willingly," Renee insisted, still expecting one of them to try knocking her out.

But Emerson pressed the muzzle of a gun under her jacket into her lower back. "I'm sure you will, but you'll have to forgive me for wanting to be certain."

She huffed.

"Let's just get out of here," Tony decided, shooting Emerson a glare.

They had escorted her to a sketchy, abandoned building they were presumably squatting in. It made her current accommodation look like a five-star hotel.

"Nice place you guys have here," Renee commented, not sure why she was deciding to risk annoying the men technically holding her hostage.

Emerson just laughed. It at least made her feel a little more assured that she would leave here alive.

"How exactly did this happen?" Renee asked as she sat and leaned against a dusty table, looking directly at Tony. "After everything you and Michelle talked about, you threw away a perfectly good offer from the CIA?"

"I'm not a Fed anymore," Tony replied simply. "It's not in me. I love David, and I chose to be with him. I wasn't going to live a lie."

She scoffed. "What– So this is just some honeymoon for you?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Like I said, I wasn't going to be an agent, not the agent she would have wanted me to be. And I sure as hell wasn't going back to prison. So, that left one option, and since nobody foresaw the risk of putting David and I in neighbouring cells... I took the opportunity to make things right."

Renee relaxed her shoulders. She did appreciate his honesty. She wondered if Michelle had that clarity, though, if she was able to look past her understandable shock and hurt to recognise it hadn't been an act of vindictiveness towards her. Michelle believed, rightfully, that Emerson had corrupted her husband, mind, body, and soul. Why would she be at all okay with Tony having chosen to run away again? Renee could see, however, that Tony wasn't blindly following some order of Emerson. No, the way they kept looking at each other, subtle as it might be, was quite... sweet. She supposed Emerson had been all Tony had had for such a long time. For them to have fallen in love wasn't actually a far stretch, although Renee couldn't look past Emerson clearly having manipulated Tony at a vulnerable point in his life.

"And, if I'm being honest? What helped me make that decision was the belief that you would be there for her."

Renee scoffed. "So, this is my fault?"

"Well, how exactly did you get here?" Emerson asked, and she shot him a dirty look. Tony, she was happy to reason with. Tony was important to Michelle. She didn't really care about pissing Emerson off.

She sighed. "I felt lost. I realised that the government was fallible, the FBI, particularly, and I felt like nothing I did that day mattered."

Tony's expression softened as he narrowed his eyes. "Without you, we never would have gotten closer to Wilson, are you kidding me?" He shook his head. "For years, all I've wanted was his head on a platter, and, okay, no, I didn't get that, but it took a weight off me, Renee."

His kindness left her sputtering. She hadn't done it for him, though: she had done it because Wilson was a horrible person and had needed to be punished. Of course, part of what made him so horrible was the way he had destroyed Michelle's life with a mere snap of his fingers.

"The FBI was made to look like a laughing-stock," Renee retorted. "The CIA had barely cracked the surface after the years of work Michelle put in. You were the reason we even got close. And that's not a bad thing. I know it isn't. But I got into Quantico because I wanted to help people and uphold the law. What's the point if my own colleagues, people I'm supposed to take a bullet for and trust with my life, are complicit?"

"You know, Tony and I have talked about this exact topic many times–"

"David," Tony chided.

Emerson held up his hands. "I'm not wrong."

"Are you... are you trying to recruit me right now?" Renee asked with disbelief. "Is that what this is?"

"No," Tony said, glaring at Emerson pointedly. "We don't have time for this. Renee, I get you were feeling lost. Believe me, I understand how you feel, but why go AWOL? Why not just talk to Michelle?"

She wanted to retort with an immediate, Because she was too busy yelling at you, asshole! Instead, that statement struck a nerve, not in the sense that she was angry — otherwise, she certainly would have snapped back at him — but in the sense that she was reminded of how utterly guilty and worried she felt for having left her.

"I don't... I don't know," Renee admitted. "I was afraid I'd come off as selfish for complaining to her about my career crisis when she was dealing with so much, mostly you. I told myself I needed to step away from it all to think. So, I got on a plane, and..."

He sighed. "You know she's probably worried sick."

"About you more than me, I bet," she muttered.

Tony seemed both amused and saddened by her lack of self-worth. She remembered Michelle telling her years ago that Tony had a certain puppy-dog eye look she could rarely resist. She had mused about how she used to joke with him that if their children inherited that trait, she would let them get away with everything. That had been a very happy time in Michelle's life, Renee thought, a time when she had learned to cope with the worst of her grief, before her mission to infiltrate the FBI had begun. Renee was quite sure that was the look on Tony's face right now, and she was not immune to it, apparently.

"Renee," Tony said softly. "She loves you with all of her heart. As soon as I learned how you had been there for her, you have no idea how happy I was, how relieved, to know that she had been taken care of."

She felt a swell of pride, the only positive emotion she had felt since leaving the FBI. Maybe Tony was right. Maybe she had let doubt get the better of her and she had done something stupid. A break had felt necessary, but all of this chaos could have been resolved by just talking to her. She had to fix this. She couldn't stand the thought of Michelle sitting there so worried for any longer.

"I love her, too," Renee whispered.

Tony nodded, seemingly glad he had gotten through to her. "So, call her, tell her that, and make this right."

Michelle had been packing her work bag when her phone rang. However, it wasn't her cell. No, she soon realised it was a burner phone she and Renee had gotten for emergencies way back when Renee had still been assigned to protecting her. She was surprised it was even still charged. They had seldom used it in recent years.

Her fingers shook as she dug through her bag to find it, realising more and more that Renee was calling her. She felt like she couldn't breathe, barely managing to answer in time.

"Michelle, it's me," Renee said.

The relief she felt was not unlike the time she thought Tony had been killed by that assassin. She trembled, barely grabbing onto her desk to steady herself and sit back down.

"Michelle, are you there?" Renee asked worriedly.

"Yeah," Michelle was quick to answer. "Yeah. I am. I... Oh my God, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she assured. "I... Are you?"

Tears came to her eyes quickly, blurring her vision and making her sniff audibly, her heart still racing.

"I've been so worried," she rasped. "Renee, I really thought... I really thought I'd lost you."

Now, it sounded like Renee was crying, too. "I know. I... I'm so sorry. I just needed some time, but I never should have left you like that or assumed that you and Tony would have worked things out and that you wouldn't have wanted to be with me anymore."

Michelle went to speak, but Renee cut her off by saying, "He's actually, um, here with me."

She blinked a few times. "W... What?"

"We bumped into each other. I had been missing you so much, but too afraid to call you. Then he knocked some sense into me, and..."

Although she had never been one to believe in fate, she was willing to make an exception for this. How fortunate had it been for them to have found each other? Particularly the fact that they had apparently been able to put their differences aside just to talk about her also seemed unbelievable.

"Do you want to talk to him?" Renee asked.

Her heart skipped a beat. She had told herself she had closure, and she did believe that, but to hear his voice one last time...

"I– If you don't mind."

Michelle took a moment to ensure her door was locked. Her office walls were soundproof, but she still wanted to be careful if she said either of their names. Renee had been wise to call the burner.

As she got back to her desk, she heard him say, "Michelle?"

"Tony..." she said, her voice breaking. "I- Are you okay?"

"Better now, knowing that you are."

She laughed through her nose. "I just can't believe you found her."

"Trust me, it was a shock for us, too."

Us. He was here with Emerson. They had indeed run away together.

"I'm happy for you," Michelle informed him, admittedly so glad to have had the chance to tell him that.

"You... you are?"

"I know you did this because you love Emerson, not because you hate me. I would never want you to live a life that would make you miserable. So, if this was what your heart wanted... I couldn't stop you."

He sighed, apparently having needed to hear that. "I had faith you would understand. But to hear you say it means the world. I... I need you to know I still love you. I always will."

"I know you do," she said warmly. "And I love you, too."

There was silence, but neither of them needed to say anything. They had a true resolution to everything now. Their chapter together was complete, and it had ended as well as it could have, given the circumstances.

"I better put Renee back on the phone, but, uh, I'm really happy for you. I wish you both the best."

"Right back at you," Michelle agreed, squeezing her eyes shut as she recognised that those might be her final words to him.

"So, yeah, you have Tony to thank for me calling you," Renee said with a small laugh as she picked up the phone again. "But, truth be told, I don't think I could have gone on like this any longer. I probably would have caved in another continent."

Michelle chuckled. "I'm glad to hear it."

"I guess I should be heading to the airport, then," Renee said, seemingly hesitant. It was understandable for her to be anxious about the prospect of being met with the entire Bureau demanding to know where she had been.

"I'll come to you," Michelle decided. "Which is... where, exactly?"

"Paris," Renee answered.

Michelle just laughed with disbelief. "Alright, I'll see you soon."

She went to hang up, but Renee soon said, "Michelle, wait!"

"Yeah?"

"I... I love you so much. I really do."

Her body flooded with warmth. "I love you, too."

There was a knock on the door, leading her to put her phone away hastily. When she opened the door, she found Larry standing there.

"Hey, I didn't realise you were still here." He then seemed to notice her visibly emotional state. "Is everything okay?"

"Renee just called me," Michelle said, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt.

Larry's eyes widened. "W... What?"

"She's okay. She's in Paris–"

"Paris?!"

"I'm getting on a plane."

Larry nodded emphatically, a grin stretching across his face. "I'll make some calls."

Technically, they hadn't agreed on a meeting place. But when one said they were in Paris and were trying to meet up, there were very few places that made sense except here. Renee had checked to see which flight Michelle was on. She had touched down a few hours ago. The airport was less than an hour from the Eiffel Tower. Had Michelle wanted to drop her things off somewhere? Had she brought much with her? Would they be staying the night, or was Michelle just going to escort her back? Should Renee stop trying to predict what Michelle might do and just call her like a normal person?

Renee looked at her watch. It was a few minutes to noon. She swore in her gut that this was right, that soon enough, Michelle would make herself known. Maybe she was crazy, but she swore she could sense that Michelle was nearby.

"Renee," someone called, making her heart flood with relief. She was here. She was really here.

She searched through the crowd until her eyes found Michelle, who politely but hurriedly weaved her way towards her. Renee tried to close the gap between them, both navigating towards a quieter spot that was free of people, only occupied by pigeons. Her heart was racing, almost afraid that if she blinked, Michelle would disappear like a mirage.

Renee went to hug her, and Michelle leaned in, but seemed to still at the last minute, holding Renee's biceps and looking up at her with teary eyes, just taking a moment to affirm that she was real, too.

"Don't scare me like that again," Michelle pleaded, her voice thick.

She sniffled, hating the reminder of how much worry she had caused Michelle, that having been the opposite of her intentions. "I won't. I promise."

Michelle apparently didn't need much convincing because her arms slid up to the nape of Renee's neck as she buried her face in her neck, stifling a sob. Renee just held her back fiercely, lifting her slightly off her feet. For that moment, it was like the world had stopped, like all they had was each other and that nothing else mattered. The sensation was overwhelming, smelling Michelle's perfume, feeling her familiar touch, hearing her mutter how relieved she was to know she was okay. It made Renee realise that she had been wrong, so damn wrong, to have risked throwing it away. Michelle was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and she made a vow to herself to make that known to her for the rest of their lives together.

When they managed to find it in themselves to part, both of them were noticeably more teary, but still smiling.

"We're such a cliché, aren't we?" Renee joked. "Emotional reunion at the Eiffel Tower, of all places."

Michelle giggled, but then she bit her lip in a very intriguing way. "I have a way to make it worse."

Renee squinted at her slightly, then watched as she took something out of her bag. Two somethings, both equal in size, the designs slightly different. One box was incredibly familiar, and Michelle passed it to her, but Renee refrained from opening it.

"I wanted you to understand that I love you," Michelle started. "I've been thinking about my future longer than you might realise, and that I can only see myself with you. I know I messed up, big time, with the way I ended things–"

"It wasn't your fault," Renee insisted. "You were in a terrible position. It's okay. I understand."

Michelle shook her head. "I... I appreciate that. I really do. But I realised that I needed to make my feelings clear. I'm so sorry if you felt like I wasn't supporting you, especially after such an awful day."

"It's okay," she assured. "It was me doubting myself, not you. I would never doubt you. I just didn't want to be a burden."

"You aren't a burden, sweetheart."

Renee looked at the floor, feeling Michelle's hand wipe a tear from her cheek. The hand soon fell, and Renee realised that Michelle was kneeling before her, holding out an emerald ring that bore similarities to the one she had almost given her, but had some differing elements, too.

"You're everything to me. I love you with all of my heart. Will you marry me, Renee?"

She nodded, getting on one knee to join her and open up her box. "Yes. With all of my heart, yes." She smiled through her tears. "And will you marry me, Michelle?"

Michelle nodded, her grin equally broad, neither of them caring about crying audibly. "Yes."

They somehow each managed to slide the rings onto each other's fingers, the tremble from overwhelm notwithstanding. It took a moment for them to stand and embrace again, now laughing with disbelief and joy more than crying.

"You know, I'd thought one proposal at the Eiffel Tower was bad enough, but two?"

Michelle beamed, "Well, with everything we've been through, an almost fairy-tale ending isn't that bad, is it?"

Renee chuckled. "Janis is going to lose it. She's such a sucker for romcoms."

She gave Renee a funny look. "Why does that sound weird to me? You told me Janis used to make a point about boycotting Valentine's Day."

"Oh, believe me, that's what she wants you to think. Ask her what her favourite movie is, she'll swear up and down it's Weekend At Bernie's. But I'm the only one who knows her dirty secret: she has a whole shelf full of Julia Roberts movies."

Michelle gasped with faux-surprise. "Scandalous."

Even this light-hearted moment made Renee realise how much she had missed not just Michelle, but the other people in her life, too. The alone time had been necessary, but it didn't change that she had a life that she did love back in DC.

"I know you're probably exhausted, but do you want to go for a walk since it's so nice?" Renee asked after a beat. "We can get lunch after."

"It really is a beautiful day," she mused. "So long as we get to spend the rest of the day in bed with pastries, I think I'll manage. Where do you want to go?"

She motioned with her head towards the bridge. "I was thinking the Pont des Arts."

"The bridge with the padlocks? Really? After all that complaining about clichés?"

Renee laughed through her nose. "Admittedly, this time, it's not just me. I, uh..." She pulled the padlock out of her bag. "I owe Tony and David a favour for helping me. But we can't go all that way without leaving our own mark, can we?"

Michelle's expression softened, holding out her hand. "Lead the way, then."

Michelle lifted her arm, putting it next to Renee's, who had done similarly, their rings equally sparkly under the warm lighting of their hotel room. Both of them were laying on their backs, the mattress comfortable enough that she would have no trouble sleeping tonight — if they even tried to sleep.

"I feel like a princess," Renee said. "Fancy hotel, champagne, bubble bath, giant diamond ring... You really do spoil me, honey."

She chuckled, nuzzling her neck. "Well, I had to compensate for the hole you were staying in."

Renee scoffed. "It wasn't that bad."

She then used her phone to take a photo of the ring. She had already called Larry, and Michelle had called Saul and Rebecca. Now, they would text the photo to some of their other friends. They would make more formal plans to tell their families later, particularly since Michelle's parents and brother still didn't know she was alive.

"Should I hit send?" Renee asked, her finger hovering over the send button for the text to Janis.

"Go for it," Michelle encouraged. "I'm anticipating hearing a scream from the other side of the world."

Sure enough, less than a minute after Renee hit send — and her cell reception wasn't the best, so really, Janis had seen the text within an ever shorter period — Janis called, the vibration of the phone apparently just as excited as she was.

Renee put the phone to her ear.

"That's how you tell me you're alive?!" Janis exclaimed, loud enough for Michelle to hear and stifle her laugh by putting her hand over her mouth. Renee was pretty sure she had burst an eardrum.

"I thought Larry told you," Renee defended teasingly.

"Yeah, he did, but that doesn't mean you aren't required to tell your best friend that you're sorry for skipping town without a goodbye."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"So... so wait," Janis went on, confused. "You bought a ring for Michelle all that time ago. Then she bought one for you, too?"

Renee found herself staring at it again, Michelle's hand now intertwined with hers.

"Yep. Two proposals. And to top it all off... we did it in front of the Eiffel Tower."

"Bullshit."

"Nope." She grinned at Michelle. "It's exactly as cheesy as it sounds."

"Unbelievable. You know the only way to make up for this is to make sure I'm your maid of honour, right?"

Renee chuckled. "Of course. But for the record, you were always going to be my maid of honour."

"Good," Janis said, before asking, warily, "Is, uh, your fiancé still there with you? I hate to say this, but I actually have a work-related question for her."

Apparently, neither of them were too bothered by this. Michelle held her hand out.

"Hi Janis," she greeted. Renee faintly heard Janis say Congratulations. "Thank you. Yeah, believe me, I'm..." Their eyes met. "So glad we're here together."

Renee kissed Michelle's knuckles, but then decided to move her hand precariously along Michelle's inner thigh beneath her bathrobe. Her eyes widened, and she blushed a little, swatting her hand away.

"What did you need to ask me?" Michelle said to Janis, pointedly keeping her voice level, even as Renee decided to put her hand back where it had been.

Renee could still hear Janis, apparently asking about navigating CTU's servers. The FBI was going to be using them as part of a new initiative to foster more engagement between them and the CIA, especially now that CTU would be recommissioned.

"Most of what you'll need is under Etudes," Michelle explained, trapping Renee's hand as it got higher up, and shooting her a warning look. "Just watch yourself if you want to go on a tirade about CTU's ethics because I wrote a decent chunk of the modules in there."

That seemed to be enough of a starting point for Janis, muttering details that Renee couldn't hear, but Michelle seemed to be able to interpret for her. Sometimes, she forgot that Michelle had once been behind a desk like Janis had. But now, with the conspiracy behind them, the thought of Michelle having more regular hours and less physically demanding work was a relief for both of them. Renee still wasn't quite sure what she wanted to do yet. She wasn't ready to give up fieldwork, but knowing that Michelle was there for her meant that whatever happened... they would be together and they would find a way to make things work. Both of them valued each other's careers and sense of duty so much.

Michelle then hung up, tossed the phone aside and tugged Renee towards her. "I'm going to get you back for that," she uttered.

But the teasing and movements of their hands soon stilled as they found each other's eyes again, falling silent.

"I love you so much," Michelle said warmly.

"I love you, too."

Michelle's hand came to her cheek, the coolness of the ring's metal a pleasant reminder. "You know, I had a thought. Maybe it's going too far, but... maybe it could be sweet."

Renee tilted her head. "What?"

"We should get married here."

Her eyebrows rose. "What– Today?"

Michelle laughed, shaking her head. "I might have had the foresight to bring the rings, but I wasn't thinking that far ahead. No, I just mean when we do get married... we should do it here, in Paris. Sure, it's cliché, but now it's our cliché. More than that, Paris is the place where I got you back. It's where you somehow ran into the only person who could have convinced you to reach out to me." She looked like she might cry again. "To seal our love for each other here would mean a lot to me."

Renee pressed a slow kiss to her lips, then rested her forehead against hers. "I think I'd like that. But for now... I think I've got a different idea of sealing our love."

Michelle hummed in assent. "Why don't you show me?"

You've reached ending #4 out of 13. Try a different combination of choices to see what happens!

As Tony watched Michelle enter the visitation room and make her way over to him, he couldn't help but notice she had lost weight since the last time they met. God, she was so torn up. He wished he could do more for her, but it appeared her coming to see him was helping, at least. If it wasn't, she wouldn't keep coming back at every opportunity. It was good for him to check in on her this way, too. He might have made his choice independent of her, but he still cared about her deeply.

She took her seat and picked up the phone. His hand went out to touch the glass lightly, and hers came to meet his. They had done this a lot during his first time in prison; it was no surprise that they had revived the habit here.

"Hey," he greeted softly, his eyes crinkling slightly with sympathy.

"Hey," she echoed.

He would ask her how she was doing, but it was clear that they were past small talk. Their visiting periods had initially been spent trying to comfort Michelle and assure her that wherever Renee was, she was okay, but the more he had said it, the less sincere it had sounded. So, as of late, they had been spending their time trying to deduce where Renee might be. Of course, he didn't know Renee that well, so he couldn't contribute too much. However, being somewhat removed from the scenario gave him insight that seemed to be useful. It was hard to watch Michelle talk about Renee, though. It had little to do with envy or jealousy: it just broke his heart seeing the way her eyes would light up before she inevitably burst into tears or otherwise broke down. Renee made her so happy, and had supported her during such a difficult time in her life. Tony could only hope Renee could keep doing that for her.

Of course, the only reason that he and Michelle were even speaking, and that she wasn't furious with him for putting himself back in prison was the understanding that he had done it as an act of love to David, not an act of vindication to her or self-loathing. Yes, he still believed he needed to be punished for his actions, but he wasn't pushing her away. She had promised at his hearing to come visit him, and not just as a placeholder while Renee was missing, but for the rest of his sentence. They still loved each other, always would, even if their futures wouldn't be spent together, not in the same way, not in the way they had imagined once upon a time.

"No news?" he asked, just in case, but he already knew the answer based on her expression.

She shook her head. "I brought the letter again," she then said, getting it out of her purse. He had read the letter before, but it had seemed cryptic enough that he believed giving it an additional read might help. It was hard not to view the message as anything but a clear desire for isolation or, worse, a suicide note. He was holding out for the former. Renee having a breakdown because her ideals had been destroyed by the conspiracy was logical. So long as she eventually came to her senses and either reached out to Michelle or allowed herself to be found.

"There is something about this that's familiar to me..." Tony started, then looked up at Michelle. "But I'm not sure you want to hear it."

Her brow creased. "What?"

Tony sighed. "After you left me..."

Michelle looked away.

"I wasn't doing well. I ended up driving out into the hills. I don't know how the hell I didn't get myself killed..." He could see the mere topic was upsetting her, so he quickly shook his head and got back on track. "I thought I wanted to run away and be alone, but doing that just made me want someone to pull me out of that place. I ended up calling Jack. It was probably one of the last times we spoke before I shut him out, too." 

Again, she failed to see the point, so he tried to better choose his words as he said, "My point is, when I thought I wanted to run away, I still ended up going to something familiar. So maybe Renee is doing that. Maybe, with everything that happened, she wanted to get away from DC and anything that reminded her of that, but she still wanted to go back to something she knew."

She took a moment to digest that theory. He could only hope she was interpreting that as a sign that Renee leaving had been a mere desire for some time away from the government and the people in it, as opposed to an active, direct choice of abandoning her. Tony might not know Renee that well, but he knew that she wouldn't do that to Michelle. Frankly, even from just those few hours of running point together, he had determined they were similar in some ways, obviously in their love for Michelle, but even in the way they thought and processed things; it had been surprisingly easy to communicate with her.

"Renee's adventurous," Michelle said, her face showing she was still deep in thought. "She's the kind of person who would get a plane ticket to some random country just for a change of pace. But maybe you're onto something. Maybe we're overcomplicating this."

It sounded like she was trying not to get her hopes up too much. But the thought of any kind of guidance in this made the situation much less bleak.

"Does she have any family she's close with?"

Michelle nodded. "Most are in St Louis. I know Larry asked around there, so that's out. She has an aunt in Ireland that I remember her mentioning. I don't exactly know if they're close, but it's worth looking into."

He hummed in assent. It was still a shot in the dark, but it was better than nothing.

She then rang Larry and relayed this information to him. From what Tony could hear, Larry was apparently trying to be semi-optimistic, probably for his own sake, as well as Michelle's. Tony could only hope having the support of the FBI and the CIA was encouraging, but also recognised that she would want to find Renee herself, that she took responsibility for Renee's disappearance and wanted to make things right.

"Alright... Yeah, I'll come down. Thanks." She hung up. "I'm going to go down to the FBI."

"Good luck," he said.

"Thanks. Not just for that, but... for helping me so much these past few weeks. It's meant a lot having you support me like this."

Tony smiled a little. "You're welcome."

Michelle was at the back of Tony's mind in the following days — had she ever not been? — praying that she was on a plane to meet Renee somewhere and that they had managed to find her. It was unlikely, to say the least, but he could only dream. After everything Michelle had endured, she not only deserved to be happy, but to have peace, to stop looking over her shoulder or having a case on her mind. He understood that the latter might never be possible for her, the way it wasn't for Jack. But he also recognised that what she had been through had changed her, had hurt her so deeply that she might at least try to fight those instincts in favour of a more peaceful life.

But as Tony eyed the phone in the corner of the yard — his yard, really, since at the moment, there were very few prisoners in solitary like him, and their behaviour hadn't warranted them the privileges of phone usage — he bit his lip, tense. He should call. He had only spoken to him for a moment a week or so ago, barely able to communicate that he wasn't ready for the plan to go ahead, not yet, even though, yes, there was an expiration date.

Tony called the number, reciting the code word nonchalantly, the guard not paying him any mind. All prison phonecalls were listened to and traced, but with the voice modulator and location rerouting, as well as the fake audio track played over it, one of many phone conversations he and David had recorded years ago to fool anyone who might be eavesdropping, nobody would ever know who he was really talking to.

"Are you ready?"

"No," Tony replied with a sigh. "Not yet. She's following up on a lead. If it doesn't pan out, I need to be there for her."

David grumbled slightly. "You know that time is running out."

"I do," he insisted. "But I can't leave her. Not now. I'm all she has."

He huffed. "And I thought you were over."

"We are over. Just give me a few days, alright?"

"Fine."

He appreciated David's offer, but right now, it just wasn't what he wanted. Helping Michelle through this was more important. He didn't care if that meant delaying or even destroying his chance of escape. He hadn't gone to prison just so David could break him out. He had taken the opportunity to free David and earn forgiveness, but had accepted that he might spend most of the rest of his life behind bars. If push came to shove, he would still rather have that than abandon Michelle when she needed him.

She should be happy. She really should be, but she wasn't. She was too afraid to be hopeful.

Renee's aunt apparently had heard from her over a week ago, making it sound like she had planned to come see her, but she had never shown. That could be for any number of reasons, from Renee changing her mind all the way to something Michelle would rather not think about it. There was as much reason to believe she was in Ireland as there was to believe she was on the opposite side of the world. There was as much reason to believe she was alive as there was to believe she was dead.

The FBI was still working with the idea that Renee had been in Ireland at some point, but it wasn't exactly a small country, and who knew if Renee had even made it that far, that she hadn't called her aunt from elsewhere? Michelle wouldn't dare give up on Renee, but she couldn't let herself get attached to this lead when there was no certainty to it. She had that letter memorised by now. There was nothing more she could get out of it, she was sure. Meanwhile, her computer was running a live facial recognition search on the security cameras of the nearest airport to Renee's aunt.

However, Michelle wasn't really thinking about her computer now as she walked through the prison security checkpoints, her hands shaking. Was she really about to do this? She had pulled enough strings now, so there wasn't much to go back on. It was a matter of how far she took it. She felt like she was reeking of desperation, questioning whether Tony was going to be offended, or at the very least, deduce what she must be feeling and pity her. 

She relaxed a little more after making it out the other side and being directed to the holding room. She took a seat, her leg bouncing as she confirmed everything was in place. 

When Tony came in, escorted by the guard, he looked confused, understandably. They had probably told him she was here on CIA business and had kept the visit on the down-low for his own protection. God, her heart was pounding. She was crazy. She really was.

Michelle rose from her seat, crossing the room to hug him. They hadn't done so since his sentencing, so neither of them spoke as they held each other — well, tried to, as his hands were still cuffed.

Tony soon pulled away, his eyes roaming her with concern. "Michelle, what's going on?"

She said nothing, just retrieved the key from the band of her bra — the coldness of which had been incredibly unpleasant — and undid the cuffs on his wrists, making his eyes widen.

"The cameras are off," she whispered, and that only seemed to overwhelm him more.

"I don't understand..."

She took a shuddering breath. "We didn't find her. She called her aunt but never showed, which means she might be... I just can't do this anymore."

He tilted his head, taking advantage of his unrestrained hands to tuck a hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do."

Her lips pressed together as she gave him a moment to conclude that yes, there was something he could do, and she had put everything on the line just to get this moment alone with him. He looked at her with a slight furrow in his brow, so, in the interest of time, she just walked back to the table and pulled the condoms out of her bag.

"Michelle..." Tony said with commiseration. "I know you're upset, but you don't want this."

"I know it's crazy," she admitted. "But this isn't just for me. I... You've helped me so much. This is the least I can do–"

"You don't owe me, Michelle," he insisted. "I don't want you to do this just because of that."

She shook her head. "But I love you. And right now, I just– I need this. Please. If you don't want to, that's okay, but if you do, too..." Her voice had started racing by this point. She was going to break down right here, and he could tell, because he strode over and slid one of his arms around her waist, while the other threaded through her hair, their lips crashing together.

Michelle sighed, walking them back so he collapsed into the chair and she could straddle him. They had to stay quiet. Even though the cameras were off, the guards outside might still hear. As his hand worked at the zipper of her slacks and soon slid beneath her waistband, she felt her body shudder. She hadn't been intimate with anybody in a long while, let alone him, who knew her so well, and vice versa, so it wasn't surprising that it became overwhelming very quickly for both of them.

Every time they made eye contact, she forgot how to breathe. Just the rolling of her hips against his lap was enough for him to hiss for her to pass him the condom. She ended up leaning most of her bodyweight against him, both still necking as they started to build up a rhythm, each of their gazes occasionally going to the door or the security camera, confirming it was still off. Her shirt had opened a little, allowing his mouth to work at her chest. Most of her larger scars from the bomb were there, so to have him give them that attention and affection was very emotional for her.

It was clear by the way he was struggling to stay composed, too, his movements as frantic as hers, that she wasn't the only one who had needed it, for which she was glad. They held each other tightly enough that she would probably leave little crescent-moon indents in his jumpsuit, not to mention the bite mark on his shoulder from her attempts at muffling her moans. Both of them babbled assurances to each other, reminders that they were not alone in their respective plights, that no matter what, they had each other, even if the circumstances were beyond what either of them could have ever expected.

By the time they finished, they were both in tears, breathing heavily as they redressed themselves and checked that neither looked obviously mussed. She felt ashamed. He might have wanted this, too, but she still felt like she had used him, and she hated that.

Before Michelle could say anything, her cell buzzed in her bag. Larry was on the caller ID; he probably just wanted to check in.

"Dessler," she answered, adjusting her shirt collar, her hand brushing over the mark he had left on her neck — rougher than usual because of the facial hair he now had. She would probably have to let some of her hair down to cover it, lest one of the guards see it on her way out.

"Michelle, we have her," he said, making her heart stop.

"W... What?"

"Your search. Janis got the results. We found her leaving Belfast airport, tracked the flight... she landed in Tokyo a few days ago."

Tokyo? He had to be messing with her. He had to be, and she would berate him for being so mean to her at a time like this. But Larry would never do that. So this had to be real. A lump formed in her throat. Renee was alive. She was okay. She was out there somewhere. She could find her.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"The next flight from DC to Tokyo is in about four hours. I've gotten you a ticket. We lost her leaving the airport, but border patrol knows. She can't leave Japan without being stopped."

Michelle reminded herself to breathe. "Okay... I– Thank you."

"Go get her back," he encouraged.

Tony looked at her expectantly as she hung up.

"They found her. She's in Tokyo." She was still struggling to process what she had heard.

His eyebrows rose. "Tokyo?"

Michelle shrugged vaguely. "I don't know, but I've got a flight to catch."

Ton's eyes lit up. "That's good. That's... that's really good, Michelle."

Now, she really felt guilty and questioned everything she had done to make today happen. Her face faltered slightly, and Tony came closer to her, tilting her chin up so she could meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry," she blurted. "God, I just came here and used you and now I'm about to leave to go after someone else."

He shook his head. "You didn't use me. We've both been vulnerable and hurting. This was a way for us to comfort each other."

She took a breath. "You really mean that?"

"I needed you, too," he added emphatically. "Everything has been so crazy for us, but this, this moment we just had, was a way to remember that we have each other. I love you and I care about you. We might not have the relationship we used to, but that will never change." He motioned with his head. "So go get your girl."

Michelle laughed a little, pecking him on the lips, before finishing recomposing herself and heading out, stopping only to say that she loved him, too.

She hadn't been to Japan in a very long time, not since she was in high school. Some parts were still so familiar, not just sights, but sounds, smells, every little thing her body could sense, while others were more reflective of the time that had passed. Her body was beyond exhausted, but she was still powered by so much adrenaline, wanting to believe the feeling deep in her core that knew Renee was here somewhere.

Michelle had a hunch about where Renee was, based on Tony's theory of her desiring something still familiar yet far removed from her life as a federal agent. She didn't like to think of it as a test, but, in theory, if she was right about this, it would prove not only that she knew Renee as well as she thought she did, but also that Renee's departure hadn't been personal, hadn't been an act of leaving her, just a desperate way of coping with her existential spiral. Michelle didn't know how she would feel if she was wrong about this.

Seeing how busy everything was did nothing for anxiety, although she acknowledged this was the kind of environment Renee would love. As Michelle went to buy train tickets, she had to take a moment before going up to the counter. Her Japanese was rusty; she hadn't used it much during her work on the conspiracy, nor had she used it to speak to relatives on the phone since she had been in hiding. She hoped she wouldn't bump into any of them now; she didn't need to give anyone a heart attack. But maybe if all went well, she could see them after she found Renee, with Renee. That was a strange thought, introducing Renee to her family. She wasn't ashamed of her or worried about commitment, by any means. It was just that, deep down, she had always figured the chances of her (or Renee, or Tony, or Jack...) not making it out to the other side of the conspiracy were almost certain. Her family felt as distinct from Renee as Tony had, a totally different part of her life. But they had already started to meld now. Maybe they would be able to keep doing so.

She shook her head. She was getting ahead of herself.

The botanical gardens were closing soon. The sun was already starting to set. But, by God, if she was here, if she was waiting for her... It felt almost stupid to think about, Renee somehow knowing she was here and coming to reunite with her like a romance movie. At the same time, the butterflies in her stomach and her heart going at a mile a minute had to be for some reason other than the impending fear that she was going to be shattered with disappointment.

She didn't even know where she was going, just following the winding paths, trying to find a balance between moving quickly to cover the park efficiently and moving slowly to pinpoint details that might help. An elderly couple gave her a commiserating look. Was it that obvious she was about to lose it? There was also a family of three, their son asleep in his stroller, striking her with an intense fondness. Ever since she had lost her and Tony's son, seeing families out and about had always affected her, but this felt even stronger than usual.

"Michelle..."

Michelle had been moving so fast that when she froze at that beautifully familiar voice, she nearly lost her balance. She couldn't bear to turn around. She was imagining it. She had to be. She was driving herself crazy with possibilities, and too blinded by nostalgia to be thinking rationality.

A hand gently touched Michelle's shoulder. The next breath she took in shuddered. Finally, she summoned the courage to turn around. Her mouth opened a few times before she could speak. Renee looked like she had been bawling her eyes out, and Michelle's lack of response only seemed to upset her more. Her heart wanted her to throw her arms around Renee and hold her close, but her mind couldn't let her forget the hurt and the worry she had experienced during her absence.

Tears pricked her eyes. God, she was really here. She had found her. She should be so happy right now. Renee seemed to have a similar sense of conflicting emotions.

"Why?" Michelle just asked. "Why didn't you talk to me? Why did you leave?"

Renee shook her head with a sniffle. "I didn't think..." She made a hiccupy noise. "I didn't think what I was going through was important. You and Tony had so much to deal with. I just– I wanted to give you space. I couldn't burden you–"

"Renee, I've been worried sick," Michelle explained, her eyes unable to ignore the bullet scar on her neck. "God, they were looking for you in the river."

Her lips pursed. "I'm sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was make things worse."

She registered that Renee almost looked ashamed. They still needed to talk about this, not just Renee disappearing, but also her motivations for doing so. Right now, though… they had each other. She had Renee, and Renee needed to know that she had her, too.

In one swift motion, Michelle tugged Renee aside, concealing them both with some foliage and pulled her in so their lips could meet. The kiss was desperate, apologetic, and overjoyed all at once. As Michelle tried to convey to Renee that she loved her, that she had missed her so much, that she was everything, Renee seemed to be reciprocating with greater emphasis, like she was echoing her unspoken words back to her. Her fingers became damp with Renee's tears as she rested her hand on her cheek. Renee had her hand around Michelle's waist — the side without the gunshot scar.

When both of them parted, they were still so overwhelmed, both crying and resting their foreheads together. At least, some of the moisture on their faces was from the tears; the rest was from the rain that had slowly started to fall.

"Straight out of a movie..." Renee muttered, making her snicker. 

"Let's go get dry," Michelle suggested.

They had gone back to her hotel room and shared a hot shower together. Renee still had a lot on her mind, and Michelle did, too. Michelle had called Larry on the way to let him know they were both okay. Just faintly hearing his voice through the phone had made Renee realise how worried he had been for her, too. It made her feel awful. She couldn't deny that having a moment of freedom and separation from work had been necessary, but had she known she would hurt that many people, she might have communicated a little better. Even then, just having Michelle near her made everything seem clear. Why the hell she hadn't just found a time to talk to her, she didn't know. She had let self-loathing and doubt get the better of her. She would never let that happen again.

"I have to ask..." Renee said, drying her hair with a towel.

Michelle looked over at her, doing similarly. "Yeah?"

"How did you find me?"

She smiled a little. "I wish I could say I cracked some code, but all I did was go back and forth to visit Tony in prison and talk it over with him–"

"Wait– Prison?" Renee said, freezing.

Michelle's expression faltered slightly. "Tony refused the CIA's offer and set Emerson free. It happened about the same time as you walking out."

Her stomach sank. She never should have been so presumptuous. "I… I'm so sorry. If I had known that had happened, I never would have left you alone. I swear to God, in my mind, you and Tony were working through things and needed time."

She shrugged a little. "It's okay. I managed. And he helped me find you. Although..." Their eyes met. "Something tells me it was less about me getting on the right track and more about you letting yourself be found."

Renee nodded. "I couldn't bring myself to just come back home and freak everyone out, so I... started leaving hints."

Michelle hummed, coming closer to Renee and putting her hands on her shoulders. "I called your aunt in Ireland. Then Larry managed to find you leaving Belfast and heading to Tokyo, so I got on a plane. You were waiting for me at the gardens, weren't you?"

She smiled. "I missed you. I mean, I've missed you this whole time, but when I came to Tokyo, it was because I really missed you. I remember you telling me about your grandparents, and coming to the gardens when you were younger..." She sighed. "So I kept showing up, hoping you would find me."

"I'm glad I did," Michelle whispered, already looking like she might cry again. "I'm so glad."

Renee leaned down to kiss her again, her skin warm and scented faintly with the hotel soap. Michelle's hands soon came to Renee's chest, tentatively touching the knot in her towel. They still had so much to discuss, but maybe some of what they were feeling... didn't need words to resolve.

As Michelle watched the display on each test show precisely what she had suspected, she let out a sad laugh. 

Why couldn't anything ever be simple for her?

Of course, of course, she had to be part of that minority for which condoms weren't effective. More than that, she had doubted her fertility was in its prime given her existing struggle to conceive from the previous time and all the stress, physically and emotionally, she had been under. She hadn't wanted to believe it, but the random bouts of nausea and sudden inability to digest anything other than bread and rice over the last couple of weeks had been hard to argue with. The three sticks in her hand, all different brands but conveying the same answer to the same question, put paid to any lingering doubts. Things were still so delicate between her and Renee, and her and Tony, too, frankly. This was hardly the time, and she was pretty damn afraid that it would destroy what she had barely reconciled. At the back of her mind, she realised she should probably also ask Tony if he had been with anyone besides Emerson and Bowden, but Michelle figured he and Emerson would have likely been tested some time ago, and Tony still would have been careful with Bowden so that probably wasn't an issue.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. How long had she been sitting here since ducking out to the pharmacy at six in the morning?

"Michelle?"

She told Renee it was okay to come in. Renee was understandably surprised to find her sitting on the floor in tears, sitting cross-legged in front of her. Michelle didn't even need to say anything as she turned the sticks around. Renee blinked a few times, then let out a soft, "Oh."

"It happened once, like I told you," Michelle started, realising that even though she had already mentioned the hookup to Renee during their conversations, she felt a need to justify it further from this news. "I... You have to understand that at that point, I was losing hope. The FBI was looking everywhere. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I felt so alone, and so scared, and I started to realise I might not find you alive–"


Renee shook her head, stopping her in her spiral by cupping her face in her hands. "Michelle, why would you think I would be upset about this?"

She scoffed. "Because I got knocked up by my ex?"

"One, technically, until a few weeks ago, we weren't even together. Two, I figured that you and Tony might want or need something like this; that was part of why I left. Three..." Her voice softened. "Honey, you're pregnant. On what planet is that bad news?"

Now, Michelle could notice the sparkle in Renee's eye and register that she wasn't even fazed: she was excited, more than that, elated, and that deep down… Michelle was, too. It didn't change that this was crazy. Her situation right now could be an episode of a soap opera, but neither of them seemed to mind.

"It doesn't make you uncomfortable that the baby is Tony's?"

She shook her head. "He was an important part of your life. He cares about you and loves you. In a way... it's actually kind of sweet. You've had so much on your mind about your future and who you want to spend it with. This lets you stay close to both of us."

When she put it like that, she was right. During their discussions over the past few weeks, Michelle had brought up her desire to visit Tony in prison regularly, and Renee had been totally understanding, so it made sense that she would be okay with this. She was too good to her. She really was. But Michelle was tired of pushing her away. There was no longer the excuse of the conspiracy or of other complicated factors. Now, they could just start their new chapter, the one Renee had expressed her desire for about a year ago.

"You also just saved us a lot of IVF money. Really, this was the ideal way to go about it."

Michelle just snickered. "Since when do you know how much IVF costs?"

Renee blushed a little. "I started looking at fertility specialists around the same time I bought your engagement ring. I knew it wasn't going to be immediate, but I just– I knew I wanted that with you."

She tilted her head. Now that made her feel even worse about how she had broken things off, but she tried not to think about it too hard. Instead, she tried to focus more on the fact that apparently, this was something they had both wanted with each other, and now it was happening.

"In the meantime, though, no more sake for you," Renee then said faux-sternly. They had indulged a little over the last few weeks of their impromptu vacation. Larry had practically ordered them both to stay here until they had kissed and made up, and then some.

She made a small salute. "Aye, captain," she responded, making them both giggle.

Renee shifted, so she was next to Michelle, leaning against the wall, their heads resting against each other, hands finding each other.

"I guess I'm going to have to start looking for a maternity-sized wedding dress..." Michelle then commented.

Renee laughed through her nose, but also seemed quite surprised she was mentioning it. With all their talks, of course, commitment had been implied, but they hadn't yet circled back to Renee's unknowingly ill-timed proposal.

"Planning a wedding and preparing for a baby at once, you really think that's possible?"

"We took down a national-level conspiracy. We can do anything," Michelle said determinedly, but soon shook her head. "No, you're probably right. Maybe we should take our time with the engagement, and then who knows? Our kid might be the page boy or flower girl."

Her lips upturned. "I think I'd like that."

Tony sighed as he dialled the phone in the yard. He had thought David had taken the hint, but the coded letters sent to the prison had put paid to that. David was still hiding out somewhere in DC, even though it had been a couple of months now, waiting for Tony to give the go so they could escape. It made Tony feel assured that he really had made things up with him and restored that loyalty, which gave him a greater sense of peace than David would ever know. 

But his circumstances had changed now, and he didn't quite fit into David's life anymore. He wanted David to be free and happy. It would obviously hurt for both of them, really having to say goodbye now, but David would understand. Tony knew he would.

"I've been waiting to hear from you," David just said.

"I've been trying to find the right words and the right time, but the bottom line is... I can't come with you."

"I know," David said, unsurprised. "When I saw her coming out of an obstetrician's office, that made it pretty clear. Congratulations."

He smiled a little. "Thanks. I hope you understand."

David hummed. "I have to say, though, committing to watching your child grow up behind bars is rather torturous."

Tony laughed through his nose. "It's better than never seeing them at all. More than that, Renee and Michelle want me in the baby's life. I… I couldn't say no to that." He wasn't surprised to find himself choking up. This really was the last time he would speak to David. "I– Thank you. For everything you've done for me."

"I should say the same. Especially since the only reason I'm not your cellmate right now is you. I wish you — and her — the best."

"You, too. Good luck out there," he said softly, before the dial-tone came.

What was it they said? If you love someone, set them free? That was what he thought he had done by pushing Michelle away all those years ago, but that had been wrong. Now, though, having given David his freedom back and giving Michelle the assurance and closure she needed to be with Renee... Tony could believe it.

You've reached ending #5 out of 13. Try a different combination of choices to see what happens!

When Michelle woke, she was a little surprised, but not bothered, by the awareness that Tony's hand was on her waist, his breaths warm against her skin.

It wasn't the first time this had happened over the last couple of weeks.

He really was too good to her. She hadn't expected anything other than platonic sympathy from him, but, to nobody's shock, they had fallen back into old habits quickly. Since he didn't have a place yet, he had basically moved in with her, spending every second either helping her search for Renee, or helping her with all the other things being neglected in favour of that. He was cooking for her, reminding her to take her medications, and encouraging her to sleep when she inevitably got to some ungodly hour with zero progress and tears blurring her vision. She had done her best to remind him, repeatedly, that she loved him, and that while Renee was currently taking up pretty much all of the time they should instead be using to open some dialogue between them about the last six years, that hadn't changed, wouldn't ever change. Of course, it helped to know they were more or less on the same page about their future, with him having taken the CIA's offer and making it clear that he wasn't expecting it to mean she should or shouldn't want to reconcile their marriage. But he was also suffering right now, in his own way. For as much, or as little, as Tony had spoken about Emerson since that day, she knew he was mourning him. Their paths likely still would have diverged even if Emerson were alive, but that didn't erase all the time they had spent together.

Michelle turned over slightly to face him, his eyes half-shut, but opening when he realised she was awake.

"Hey," he murmured, gently and somewhat hesitantly tugging her in for a kiss.

They were still somewhat dancing around it. While they were sharing a bed and had kissed a few times, more for comfort, since he, notably was still grieving losing Emerson, who was now apparently on the lam, having escaped FBI custody, nothing more had happened, and it would likely stay that way for the time being. Deep down, she wondered if it would last, if there would come a point where she decided looking for Renee was a lost cause and accepted that she should be grateful to have Tony alive, well, and not hating her for her choices. But the thought of that broke her heart because, one, that would mean giving up on Renee and after all she had been through, she could not bear to give up on the woman who had been everything to her in her darkest days, and two, it would somewhat imply to Tony that he was an afterthought, that she only wanted to be with him if Renee couldn't, rather, wouldn't, be found.

Michelle's hand came to his cheek, rough with stubble. He had shaved the goatee, but kept some facial hair. Even just the familiarity of waking up next to him made her chest pang, her mind so easily, too easily, going back to that day, to all the moments they could have lost each other. She was surprised she wasn't having nightmares about it. That being said, she wasn't exactly sleeping much, or very deeply, too wired with theories about Renee's whereabouts, including the unfortunate possibility that something horrible had happened to her.

"How'd you sleep?" he then asked, meeting her gaze, his thumb tracing the scar on her cheek, and then the dark circle under her left eye.

She shrugged. There was no point in lying to placate him when he could see perfectly well that she hadn't. "I shut my eyes and I see my computer screen."

He snorted weakly. "Figures."

Michelle took a long breath, realising as she became more conscious that her back was particularly sore today, and understandably so. For as much as Tony had helped her keep up on everything she needed to, sometimes prying the laptop out of her hands and telling her to stretch or walk around for a bit, she was still recovering from a physical and emotional ordeal. They had somewhat swapped stories about the relative health issues they each had from the car bomb and whatever other injuries they had sustained. He had heart medication that she made an effort to remind him to take, and she had her regular regime of painkillers, rest, and physiotherapy, on top of the hearing loss that he had become more than mindful of.

"You okay?" he asked, concerned.

She shook her head. "Just my back. Might work from bed today."

He hummed in understanding. "Let me wash up, and I'll get you breakfast, okay?"

"Okay, thanks," she said softly, taking a moment to just watch him. It was incredible that despite their time apart and their differences, him walking around her bedroom and having a toothbrush in her ensuite felt so natural. She tried not to read into it too much. This was not some sign for her to be with Tony over Renee. It didn't work like that. Maybe if the circumstances weren't so uncertain and terrible, she could validate things like that, but as of right now, the second she felt a little too fond of having Tony here, she reminded herself that Renee was out there, with a questionable mindset, and needed to be found and assured that she was incredible, as an agent and a person, and that no matter what she did, she could do it with support. She had tortured herself rereading the letter Renee had left, less and less able to convince herself it wasn't some kind of cryptic suicide note. Tony had assured her, genuinely, but surely also with naive optimism, that it was not that, that from what he knew about Renee, even if she was doing something extreme to cope, she was not going to do that. Michelle had to wonder whether any of that was him projecting based on his own experience after losing her.

Michelle's eyes were half-closed when her cell buzzed on the nightstand. It was about ten in the morning. She and Tony had been given some much-needed vacation time. His contract with the CIA could start whenever he was ready. Saul had basically told her to use whatever CIA resources necessary to find Renee, and that unless something urgent arose, the aftermath of the conspiracy could wait. Larry had expressed the same sentiment, and since Renee worked under him, he had the FBI looking for her regardless, although Michelle wanted to believe this wasn't about having the best satellite coverage or updates from other agencies and more about her, her and no one else, deducing where Renee had gone.

She reached over, expecting to see Saul, Rebecca, or Larry, at the very least, a government extension number, on the caller ID. Instead, she saw a private number. It wasn't unusual in this line of work to have people swap phones or obscure their numbers, but for whatever reason, she felt very apprehensive.

"Hello?" she answered as clearly as she could, rubbing leftover sleep from her eye.

"Hello, Michelle," the voice greeted, its sinister tone making her posture straighten.

"… David?" Michelle queried.

She must have said it relatively loudly because Tony quickly came out of the bathroom, wearing a towel, haphazardly wiping water off his body.

"I-I don't understand," she then said, more convinced it was indeed David Emerson on the other line.

"Oh, but you will, Michelle."

Everything was quiet. She couldn't tell if it was silent or if she just wasn't able to hear such a quiet noise translated through the phone. His reception didn't seem the best, either.

"Michelle," a horribly familiar voice rasped. "Help me."

Her eyes widened. "R– Renee?"

At that moment, Tony grabbed the phone from her and put it on speaker. "What the hell are you doing, David?"

David just chuckled. "I must say, I wasn't too sure if you two would shack up together so soon, but I'm certainly not surprised."

"Cut the shit, David," Tony said, although Michelle noticed his cheeks redden slightly at how perceptive he was. "I know you're pissed I didn't break you out, but this has nothing to do with Renee and Michelle."

"You're not wrong, but Tony, we both know the only way to punish you is to punish the people you love."

His jaw squared, and Michelle was aware of how much her heart was pounding, her mind concocting terrible images of what circumstances Renee might be in. She also had a myriad of questions. For one, how the hell David had found Renee when the government had not? Had it been a coincidence? Had they both, respectively, been trying to flee the country, and David had taken advantage of Renee's likely distracted state and kidnapped her?

"I chose to work for the CIA of my own volition, David. I wasn't betraying you. It wasn't personal."

"No, Tony, how could it be personal when you came crawling back to her like the pathetic man you are and deluded yourself into thinking they'll see you with any shred of respect, instead of recognising everything I've ever given you?"

For as much as she was very angry, and very scared for Renee, she could also acknowledge that Tony was being very hurt by David's words. It had been a big decision to make, and she was ultimately proud of him for making it, independently, as he had said, and she trusted that David's criticisms wouldn't make him reconsider. However, it wasn't what he needed to hear.

"So, what, you wanted to hurt Michelle by hurting Renee? That's your way of punishing me?"

"Well, let's see."

Michelle's eyes widened, her hand clasping over her mouth as she heard a cry of pain.

"Next time, she loses an eye."

In turn, Tony looked horrified, both for her sake and Renee's.

"David, let her go," Tony insisted through gritted teeth. "She has nothing to do with this."

"I want to redeem myself, Michelle!" Renee shouted desperately. "I'm sorry! Please, give me a chance to redeem myself!–" 

"That's enough," David said, before the dial tone filled the stunned silence between them.

Tony wouldn't have been surprised if Michelle had had a panic attack after that, however, she had just sat still, her body trembling, eyes staring off into the distance, until he had come and sat on the bed to embrace her and she had broken down, not just from fear, but exhaustion, too. After everything she had gone through, this was the last thing she needed. Unfortunately, this type of phone call was something they could both empathise with deeply. Nobody deserved to have to go through that; once was more than enough, and now Michelle was going through it again, after one of the most volatile and intense periods of her life. He hated that he was, in some way, responsible for this. He had believed refusing David's last offer at redemption in his eyes would have just meant David cutting ties with him, likely spending the rest of his life behind bars. But, of course, David had had the means and resources to escape, and Tony should have at least clocked that David might want to hurt him or Michelle in retaliation.

"I… I'm so sorry," Tony said, shaking his head. "I should have– I don't know what I should have done–"

"How could this be your fault?" Michelle asked, stopping him from continuing to form a correct answer, pulling away to meet his eye.

He shrugged. "I should have known David might want revenge. I– I thought taking the CIA's deal would make him never want to see me again. I didn't think he would still want to get back at me after everything, and in hindsight, I never should have believed that."

"Even then, what were you supposed to do?" she pointed out. "Other than asking for more protection around us, there was nothing you could have done. You made a choice for yourself, a choice that I am so proud of you for, and he should respect that. If he truly loved you, he would respect your decisions."

Although a tiny part of him was considering whether he should have helped David, at the very least to protect Renee and Michelle, he could affirm, both from her words, and his own conscience that, no, he shouldn't have to be punished, and neither should the people he cared about, for making that choice. It had been the right thing to do, and he believed that with confidence. The only thing he could do now was help find Renee and make it clear to David that, yes, he had deeply appreciated his presence in his life, was grateful to him for many, many things, but could no longer see eye-to-eye with him, and that they should just go their separate ways. He also was still somewhat amazed that Michelle could humanise David, perceive him not just as a criminal, someone who had had a bad influence on him, but also someone he had loved dearly.

She was still sniffling, so he leaned in and kissed the top of her head. "We're going to find her, okay? I promise you."

That seemed to spring her into action, making her wipe away tears and grab her phone again. "I'm going to call Larry. I doubt they'll be able to use my cell data to get anything, but they need to know so they can prioritise looking for her."

Neither seemed to want to admit that the FBI probably couldn't do much here. They had no idea where Renee could have gone; she had covered her tracks very well. All they could say now was that her path and David's had overlapped for long enough that David had seen it as an opportunity. He wondered if he would have done anything like this had he not bumped into her. Probably not, Tony was guessing. The idea of David being impulsive like this frightened him, for Renee and Michelle's sake. He was used to David making good, solid plans before acting on anything, his paranoia usually making him unlikely to want to change things last minute. This was new, and this meant he couldn't predict his behaviour. It made him feel even more useless, but also even more responsible for making sure they found Renee in time.

"Larry, I've got you on speaker," Michelle said, making him look up.

"Tony, do you have any idea what Emerson might want with Renee? I– This doesn't make any sense. How the hell did he even find her?" Larry queried, sounding understandably worried.

"I don't know," he confessed. "My only theory is that he somehow crossed paths with her and then decided he wasn't over what had happened."

"Any idea where he might have gone?"

He huffed. "No. Extradition countries seem likely, but it hasn't even been two weeks. I don't know if he was moving slowly to avoid making too much noise."

As soon as he said that, he felt a sudden burst of panic, like he shouldn't have been so pessimistic when that was not what Michelle needed to hear right now. But when he looked at her, she was still deep in thought.

"I'm still thinking about what she said," Michelle said with a frown. "About redeeming herself. I– It sounded off to me."

He had to agree: it had sounded off, and he hadn't known Renee for nearly as long as Michelle had. "Maybe it was a clue," he offered, wanting to be optimistic that Renee wasn't overly injured, such that she had been able to communicate something like that.

"Redeeming herself?" Larry asked. "Christ, she's really not in a good place. I should have clicked–"

"Wait, that might be it," Tony interrupted. 

Michelle furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

"Christ the Redeemer. David has contacts in Brazil."

Even if it was somewhat of a stretch, it was a start.

Her eyes widened. "Maybe she can see the statue from where she is," she suggested. "Or at least, she's in Rio. That's… that could be it, right?"

"Well, we've got nothing else, so let's get on a plane and find out," Larry said decisively. "I'll get Janis on this, and I'll call you back."

"Thanks, Larry," Michelle said gratefully.

When she hung up, she let out a sigh. They couldn't get too excited, but this was definitely better than nothing. Still, it didn't change that they were on an undetermined timeframe. He didn't want to think about the possibility that David had hurt Renee, or worse, after he had hung up, possibly as punishment for attempting to reveal her location.

"We're going to find her," Tony said, wanting to show his support, wanting to let her optimism drive this, because usually, she was the one who prayed for the best, or at least, wasn't cynical. He needed that hope, and so did she.

Michelle nodded, leaning into him more. He was glad his presence was a comfort, when really, many people in her position would be angry and resentful towards him. He couldn't deny that he was over-the-moon, not that he had ever wanted to force Michelle to be with him again, far from it, but he could at least appreciate that through this, they had supported each other in a way that felt so organic, so true to who they were, so powerful, despite the challenges they had faced.

"I… I love you so much," she whispered. "I'm so glad you've been here for me."

"Of course, Michelle," he said, brushing a hair from her face. "I love you, too."

"It's been nice having you here," Michelle then admitted. "Not just for this, but in general."

That made him pause, not because he didn't want to hear it, but because he feared she was saying things she might regret.

"You don't have to–"

"No, I mean it," she insisted, meeting his gaze in a way that conveyed she indeed did. "I– After everything, you're here with me, and that matters. You're supporting me. It's not that I resent Renee. I respect that she went through a personal crisis and needed help to deal with it, but I can't look past her not coming to me."

He shook his head. "She didn't want to burden you. She was trying to protect you."

Michelle shrugged helplessly. "It still hurts. So, I– I don't want you to think that I'm only being nice to you because you're helping me find Renee. I… I've been happy having you with me, regardless."

"I know that, Michelle, and believe me, I've been happy having you here, too, not just because I'm looking for a void to fill David but because I love you, and I've missed you, and I'm glad we're moving forward together," he assured. "Look, we don't have to talk about this now, okay? Let's just get ready to leave."

She seemed slightly disappointed by that, but he could only hope that would be the most she faced here, that it wouldn't be overridden by the crushing guilt of losing someone she loved — again, and for good.

Renee was pretty sure if Emerson didn't kill her, the heat would. It wasn't that she hadn't travelled to hot and humid places before: she was just usually a lot more prepared. That lack of preparation had frazzled her and was probably the reason she had gotten caught. That being said, she had been looking out for Feds, not Emerson. Being the sly bastard he was, he had stalked her on her way to her hostel without her noticing, too occupied with existential questions about what she was doing with her life, whether she had made the right call leaving the way she had, not necessarily because she was homesick — the idea of freedom and not being tied down anywhere for now was liberating — but because she knew she had hurt Michelle in the way she had done it and she hated herself for it so much. At the same time, she couldn't go back, not now, not when she so desperately needed this time to figure out what she wanted. She just wished she had told someone where she was, because her half-assed attempt at trying to hint that she was in Rio de Janeiro had probably not made sense. Emerson had punished her for it by reopening the wound on her neck with his knife, not enough to put her in grave danger, but enough to sting like hell. Although she was far from comfortable, she was aware he could have hurt her a lot more, so she wasn't going to complain.

However, Renee had no intention of sitting and waiting around for someone to find her. She needed to figure out what Emerson wanted, what would give him peace, at least, enough peace, to let her go, so they could go their separate ways. She refused to admit that, deep down, she wanted to escape, not because she wanted to save her life, but because she was afraid to face Michelle, Larry, even Tony, anybody who was presumably trying to rescue her. She just wasn't ready for it. She didn't want to stress Michelle any further. Michelle was probably upset, and rightfully so, and needed time. She didn't deserve to have Michelle come down here and also put herself on Emerson's warpath, all because of her own stupidity. Renee hadn't even given Emerson a second thought after his arrest, yet now she wished she had refreshed her memory of his profile because that might actually help her figure out what the hell he wanted now, besides punishing Tony through her, something he had made quite clear. It was borderline ridiculous for Emerson to have fled the country, yet risked it all by taking her and alerting Tony and Michelle. That kind of irrationality could only come from being deeply in love with someone. She would know, after all.

"You really couldn't let Tony go, could you?" Renee asked.

Emerson looked up with surprise.

"I might not remember everything in your file, but your profiling suggested that you value loyalty. I get why you're upset with Tony. I do. He went behind your back to Buchanan and O'Brian. After everything you tried to drill into his head, he still went and did that." Renee sighed. "In a way, I know how that feels. I was there for Michelle during her darkest days. I supported her. I helped her get her life back. I thought I was helping her find purpose in the law, in doing the right thing to help the greater good, then she broke up with me when I tried to propose because she was following a secret CIA agenda."

She paused to consider her words. She hadn't realised just how much they had had in common, albeit from opposite angles, until she had said those words. She didn't really like the idea of relating to Emerson. But, hell, if that got him to show mercy, even temporarily, it would be enough.

"But I'm not angry at Michelle for that. I respect her and her decisions. That's how I'm loyal to her, supporting her no matter what, and she's good to me in return."

Emerson's gazed narrowed. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that you never wanted loyalty from Tony. You wanted blind submission. You wanted him to worship you and your beliefs and never think for himself."

His jaw twitched, and Renee had to ask herself if she was really doing the right thing, pointing that out to the man holding her hostage. She just couldn't help herself because, well, she wasn't wrong, and maybe Emerson needed to hear that. Maybe he needed to consider that Tony wouldn't actually be receptive to or even fearful of this at all, just angry and hurt. She could only hope Emerson wasn't narcissistic enough to fail to consider that he was in the wrong here.

"I don't believe you," he said simply. "It doesn't hurt you that she and Tony are back together? After everything you did for her, she went back to him, and you're not heartbroken?"

She shrugged. Truth be told, it did hurt, not because she thought Tony was taking advantage of her, he was too respectful of her boundaries for that, but because, well, for as much as she knew she needed this time to soul-search or whatever she wanted to call it, she also missed Michelle so much her chest ached. Would Michelle take this all as a betrayal? Would Michelle view this choice she had made as a sign that she could and would abandon her at any moment? It wasn't the truth, far from it. If she had believed Michelle needed her, she wouldn't have left so selfishly. But part of why she had left had been to give Michelle space, to acknowledge that she and Tony needed time to catch up and heal in whatever way that looked like for them. She would never resent Michelle if she got back together with Tony, but it would hurt. And that was what she needed Emerson to understand, that no matter how much it hurt, her love for Michelle meant she would want her to be happy, above all.

"It does, but not to the point that I would ever wish harm on her — or Tony," she answered honestly.

"God, is she some kind of siren?" he said with a huff. "She's stabbed both of you in the back, more than once, by putting the institution she serves above you two and your relationships, and yet, you both pathetically hand her the knife every time."

Renee raised a brow. "You're the one being pathetic."

He blinked at her a few times. "Excuse me?"

"You barely even spoke to Tony before you hung up. If all you wanted to do was hurt me, you would have sent him a video of me bound and gagged, cut my head off, shot me, whatever, and left it at that. I think you want him to come find you, just so you can see him again."

"Watch it," he warned.

"You want Michelle to see the power you have over Tony," Renee went on. "You want to scare Tony so much because you think he'll come crawling back to you and abandon Michelle again to keep her safe. You're desperate to get him back because you can't face the fact that he didn't choose to run away with you: he chose to go back to being a Fed."

Renee didn't need him to concede defeat. His fist connecting with her nose basically confirmed she was right. She met his eyes defiantly, spitting blood at him. He hit her again, but she held strong, knowing that while he held the cards physically, she held them emotionally. She knew exactly how to push his buttons, and that would be her key out of this mess.

The excitement of knowing where Renee was with reasonable certainty was soon quashed by the acknowledgement that, one, the Christ the Redeemer statue was very large and therefore visible from many places, and two, Rio de Janeiro was no small city. Janis had managed to work her magic by cross-referencing street camera and satellite footage to create a map of probable regions. Still, there was a lot of ground to cover, and it would be up to them to figure out where Renee was being held. If Emerson had contacts here, he could very well have falsified papers for safehouses and businesses, so nothing was off the table. Tony, unfortunately, knew little about Emerson's contacts here, having not really left the US during his time in hiding, understandably.

However, unlike Michelle, Larry and most of the other FBI agents, Tony had the advantage of knowing Portuguese. Given that Renee and Emerson probably wouldn't have blended into the crowd, they could only hope someone had seen her. Still, it was a hot day, and people had better things to do than answer questions about the whereabouts of a random woman. Some people seemed to at least have seen her, which was promising, based on the length of the conversations they were having with Tony. Michelle's average levels of Spanish were leading her to pick up the occasional word or phrase, but the languages were still quite different. Due to the speed the locals were speaking and the thicker accent, she wasn't really able to discern much, just watch Tony's expression.

One particularly brusque man didn't even let Tony get a word in.

"He told me to fuck off," he explained as they continued walking.

She snickered. "That one, I got."

Humour was all they had to cope right now as they scanned their surroundings desperately, not sure if Renee could be in the backroom of something like a populated cafe, a motel room, or a decrepit building. Michelle kept looking down at her phone to ensure they stayed within Janis's region. She really shouldn't be on her feet this much, but so long as she found Renee and ensured she was safe, she could spend another month in bed if that was needed. She was trying to narrow it down further, but there wasn't much more she could do. Michelle was hyperaware that time was not on their side, that it could very well be too late, that they wouldn't be finding Renee restrained to a chair, but facedown in a pool of her own blood–

Tony grabbed her arm suddenly, making her gasp. He seemed to be thanking the woman he had asked and shown Renee and Emerson's photos to before motioning with his head towards a building across the street, an old apartment building, but seemingly still populated based on the laundry hanging outside windows.

"She said she saw David take her there, half-conscious, a few days ago, hasn't seen her since. He claimed she was his wife and that she'd had too much to drink."

The semantics didn't matter. Renee was there, or at the very least, nearby, if Emerson had decided to move her. They relayed this information to Larry promptly, who asked if they wanted to wait, pointing out that Emerson could have backup with him. But Tony seemed somewhat confident that Emerson's apparent impulsivity meant he would likely be alone or only with a handful of men.

"Wait, unless you want?–" Tony asked, looking at her, but she shook her head. "Hell no, we're going in there. We'll be fine."

Larry said he would set up a perimeter in case Emerson tried to bolt, and as soon as they hung up, they made their way over, scanning the apartment buildings on the east side based on the location of the statue. Michelle could still feel her heart racing like she knew, she knew, Renee had to be here, or at least had been. The intense desire to protect Renee was probably how Renee had felt about her all these years being her security detail. That only made her want to find her more, to ask her why she had run, why she hadn't just spoken to her. She might have expressed her feelings of betrayal by Renee to Tony before, but really, they didn't matter. Michelle just needed to save Renee, at any cost, even if she did still bear some understandable resentment towards her for how she had ended their relationship. They just needed to talk. That horribly overwhelming discussion with Tony in the medical ward had taken up a lot of time and energy, but she should have made Saul bring Renee in, either before or after.

They knocked on a few doors, understandably being met with no response or very confused, disgruntled people. One particular older woman seemed to give Tony the evil eye for no reason. He still looked intimidating, in a way that was admittedly attractive to her, but probably made others want to be wary of him. Tony beseeched the woman, holding her door open before she could slam it shut, and showing the photos of Renee and Emerson again.

The woman looked at Michelle, who pleaded her to say if she had seen them, and she seemed to understand that whatever was going on was serious, citing the number of a room at the end of the hall. They both thanked her and made their way over, finding the door ajar, which did not feel like a good sign. They both drew their weapons, sweeping the room, unnerved by the only sound being the wind in the trees outside.

Michelle stopped in her tracks at the sight of an upturned chair and a dark red stain on the carpet, not overly large, but not trivial, either. 

"Tony," she uttered, making him come to where she was.

They both looked at the nearby open window, displaying a pretty damn perfect view of Christ the Redeemer.

"She had to have been here," Michelle said decisively. "We probably just missed her. God damn it…" 

Now the tears were coming. They had been close, so close, but they had failed.

"They can't be far," Tony reminded her, his voice firm.

Before they could continue looking around, as if on cue, her cell rang. Both of them had put transmitters on their phones so the FBI could trace the signal immediately. She answered and put it on speaker without a word.

"You got down here quick, didn't you?" Emerson just said, amused.

"Listen to me, you son of a bitch," Michelle responded, her voice thick. "If you do anything else to her, I will kill you. Do you understand that?"

"Well, you'd have to find me first to do that."

She groaned, looking around and seeing the other windows were quite wide. "You're watching me. You know I'm here," she observed. "I know that much."

"You're stalling to get a trace. I know that much."

Her eyes closed. "Please, David, just let her go. You and Tony can talk about whatever you need to. We'll come to you alone, if that's what you want."

Tony cocked a brow. She wasn't sure if that was because she was suggesting going in without backup or because the prospect of talking to Emerson made him nervous.

"Fine," Emerson said, making Michelle freeze, unsure if she had heard him correctly. "The building with the yellow door two blocks north from where you are. If I see a single FBI windbreaker, she dies."

"Alright, we'll be there. No backup." And, really, she was being honest. This wasn't like the other times where national security had been at stake. This was personal. Larry could try to arrest Emerson if he escaped and ran into the streets, so long as they got Renee back first. Besides, the perimeter should act as insurance for that, too. Although, really, Michelle didn't care if Emerson escaped. She wanted him as far away from all of them as possible. He had done enough. While she didn't entirely blame Emerson for the choices Tony had made and the man he had become, she still believed that Tony deserved to move forward from that chapter, to affirm to himself that he was atoning for his mistakes, without the devil who had tempted him being there to make him doubt himself. 

While she should be relieved that she had a seemingly definite location of Renee, she couldn't will her feet to move. A part of her still feared it was a trap, but the tone in Emerson's voice inclined her to believe he was being honest. Tony's lack of apprehension and confusion about why she wasn't running as fast as she could down the street somewhat confirmed that.

"Let's go," he encouraged, taking her hand, and she nodded, taking a shuddering breath.

On the way, Tony checked in with Larry about the perimeter, not giving him much more, just saying he would get back to him soon. Larry thankfully trusted him, and Michelle hoped that would stick with Tony, the reminder that he was the good guy again, and people were already seeing that.

When they arrived, it felt strange to knock like they were just visiting David, not about to negotiate Renee's life. While Tony would have been worried about Michelle, regardless, the terrible familiarity of it all made him feel almost certain he was as anxious as she was. They were both breathing very heavily, despite appearing relatively neutral and in control.

Nobody responded, making Tony even more on edge. Michelle tried the handle impatiently, finding it unlocked.

She looked up at him.

He nodded, using his hands to show how he wanted to check the room. While he did trust David was being honest here, he couldn't ignore the possibility of otherwise. There could be an ambush or a bomb, for all they knew.

The room was furnished, surprisingly. The house hadn't exactly had security. David had probably just broken in here and hoped for the best.

"In here," David called sternly.

They turned to see a kitchen, Renee tied with rope to a wooden chair in its centre. The sunlight highlighted the bruises on her skin, the blue of her eyes as bright as the teal of the tiles around her. Dried blood coated her mouth and neck and stained her tank top. Her shoulders were pink from sunburn. There was a large gash on her shoulder, and her nose looked broken. She looked exhausted, but not overly injured. She made a muffled noise through her the rope in her mouth, her frightened eyes meeting theirs.

No matter what they had each imagined as a worst-case scenario, nothing could ever prepare anyone for seeing someone they loved in a position like this. Michelle took a sharp breath, and Tony put his hand behind him to stop Michelle from bolting towards her, gun at the ready in the other hand.

"Look, David," Tony started, intentionally not raising his gun, but wanting to keep some form of defence, hating that he couldn't be sure talking David down would work. "Let's just talk about this."

He opened a switchblade, placing it to the hollow of Renee's throat, pulling her hair back with the other hand so she couldn't move. "Not much to say, really. You've come crawling back to her, because you've deluded yourself into thinking that's how you want to spend the rest of your life, serving the government that betrayed you again, and again. You think you got your happily ever after, so now I'm giving you a reality check."

"David, there are Feds blocking you in," Tony pointed out, brushing over his words, not giving them any power. "They've got a shoot-to-kill order on you. If you turn yourself in, you'll get through this."

David scoffed. "What, so I can wait for my turn in the electric chair?"

Tony shook his head, softening his voice, as he pleaded, "You don't need to do this. Let her go. We'll talk."

"But you've made up your mind, haven't you?" he spat painfully. "You didn't break me out. After everything, everything, I did for you, you left me to rot."

He supposed he couldn't argue with that. He wasn't sure what he was fighting for. It wasn't them, unfortunately, not anymore. He would always love David, but they would never be the way they had been, even if he dropped everything and helped David flee the authorities right now, leaving Michelle in the wind. It was over. They had all made their choices. The only silver lining of this was that they had found Renee, when she could have really disappeared for months on end.

"I didn't choose to work for the CIA as a fuck you. I… I love you, and I'm grateful for everything you've done, but I don't like the person I became with you."

"Don't like or don't want to admit exists?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "I made choices I don't regret, but I made a hell of a lot more that I do. I want to atone. I want to redeem myself, not because of Michelle, not to prove anything, but because I want to, David. I'm sorry, but there's no going back. And I don't want you to die. I'm glad you survived that day, and I want to keep it that way."

He sneered. "But you won't let me go, will you?"

A part of him wished he could, but he couldn't, not with two witnesses, even though they might not fault him, maybe even cover it up with him, starting his renewed government agent career and relationship with Michelle this way would be terrible.

"No, but I'll put in a good word for you," Tony offered. "Maybe they can cut you a deal."

"I have no interest in a deal."

"Then what the hell do you want, David?" Tony demanded. "You want to punish me, fine. You want to spit in my face, beat me, tell me how I betrayed you, go ahead, but you keep Michelle and Renee away from this. Let her go, now, David, or I swear to God–"

"You'll what?" he threatened, drawing blood now and making Tony have to work harder to hold Michelle back. "I saw how much it broke you to shoot me. You really think you can do it again?"

Tony raised his gun with a shaking hand. It was difficult to be reminded of such a pivotal moment, one he still hadn't fully processed, but had only managed to accept knowing that ultimately, David was fine. This time would be different. David had crossed a line, dragging Michelle and Renee into this. It was cowardly. David might have claimed it had been about punishing him where it hurts, the people he cares about, but he also knew damn well that David was clearly so upset that he couldn't even bear to have a conversation with him. He had had his men beat him when he had returned to the compound. He had kidnapped Renee, not Michelle, to put even more obstacles between them. Tony wished to God that David wasn't this stubborn, but the more Renee struggled in the chair and the more Michelle kept fighting to push through, yelling abuse at David, telling him what she would do if he hurt Renee any further, the more Tony realised that the choice was unfortunately clear.

"How about I make it easier for you?" David proposed. "I'll give you five seconds before I slit her throat. Five…"

If Tony didn't prove himself now, nobody would trust him, not even himself.

"Four…"

Michelle had her gun, and she would shoot without hesitation.

"Three…"

But this wasn't her mess to fix.

"Two…"

Tony double-tapped, hitting David in the chin and neck, causing him to fall back against the kitchen counter, smacking his head on the cabinet as he fell. Renee was breathing rapidly. Michelle shoved past him, rushing to Renee's side to untie her, muttering assurances to her.

"You're okay. You're okay," she said softly, their foreheads resting against each other. "I'm here."

Although Tony knew he had made the right choice, based on the feeling of absolute resolution in his mind and gut, the ache in his heart from seeing David dead, for real, this time, would be permanent.

Michelle must have brushed Renee's hair off her face and muttered that she had been so worried about a thousand times as they medics had patched her up. Other than some dehydration and restitching her wounds and broken nose, she was fine, but it would be hard to truly feel that way until the bumps and bruises faded. Michelle still had a set to match, after all, although most of them were on their way out. Michelle wanted to insist to Renee that she get bedrest and not be let out of her sight after what she had done, but she felt that would be a little harsh to say to her right now. She had just almost been killed; she deserved a minute to feel the relief that she was alive.

The paramedic went to give her painkillers, but Larry suddenly stuck his hand out, preempting this. "Sorry, not yet. We need your statement, Renee."

Renee looked into her lap, as much as she could with her sore neck, at least, and nodded. Obviously, Larry wasn't ready to look past what she had done, even though he was otherwise being nice. It would probably feel worse for Renee to have two people demanding to know everything, and the conversation Renee and Larry would have would likely differ from the conversation they would have.

"I'll give you both a minute," Michelle said, squeezing Renee's hand before stopping as she winced.

"Sorry, rope burn," Renee explained weakly.

"I'll be back, okay?" she assured, and Renee nodded.

When she turned, she noticed Tony was sitting on the sidewalk, staring blankly ahead of him, right towards the black body bag being loaded into the car. She didn't need to ask to know. He was obviously distraught over having killed Emerson, especially since he had been in this situation twice now, within a couple of weeks. She was glad he had, and she doubted he regretted it. After all, he probably could have aimed for the shoulder again, or the leg, but it seemed Tony had decided he had had to kill him to prove something. She hoped it hadn't been for her sake, but she also wouldn't have been able to sleep, knowing Emerson was vengeful and able to break out of federal custody. She believed it had been for Tony's own sake, too, much the way choosing to work for the CIA had been something he had decided for himself.

"Hey," Michelle said softly, making him look up, slightly startled.

He smiled wanly as she sat next to him.

"I'm so sorry," she then said, cupping his cheek with her hand. "I can't imagine how hard that must have been for you."

Tony sniffled. "I knew I had no choice. I never would have let anything happen to Renee," he said with insistence, as though she might think otherwise. "I just wish he'd listened to me. Even if I never saw him again, if he didn't let me visit him, I… I would at least know he was alive. But at the same time, he was in custody, and look what happened. I wouldn't have wanted him coming after you, either of you, again."

"Likewise, I wouldn't have wanted him coming after you, Tony, directly or indirectly."

Unsurprisingly, he seemed to have not realised it could have been his life on the line here.

She rested her head against his shoulder, snaking her arm around his chest. "But you're allowed to be upset, you're allowed to mourn," she reminded him quietly. "I don't want you to think you have to hide that, okay? We've had complicated lives, and he was a big part of yours, and I respect that, I do. I don't agree with his choices or some of the ways he treated you, but I know that you loved each other deeply, and that's not a crime."

He wiped away tears with the heel of his hand, obviously having needed to hear that.

"Thank you," he replied inaudibly enough that she had to read his lips.

Michelle tugged him closer, letting him rest his bodyweight against her, just the two of them acknowledging that they were okay, that their feelings, complicated as they may be, were permitted, were trusted, with each other. She was telling him, silently, that she respected his pain and would never want to invalidate it because no matter who Emerson had been to the rest of the world, he had been someone to him.

"Michelle," someone then uttered, and she turned to see Larry standing over them somewhat sheepishly.

"Renee wants to talk to you."

Of course, she and Tony could take time. Unlike back at the FBI, where her desperation to talk to Tony had overridden talking to Renee, believing her to be in a better frame of mind, this time, it was in reverse: Tony would be okay, at least for a moment, but she needed to understand why Renee had made the choice she had — specifically, how she had gone about it more than anything.

So, she stood up gingerly, resting her hand on Tony's shoulder, half for her own support, and half to remind him that she wasn't going anywhere. When Michelle walked back to the ambulance Renee was sitting in, something in her expression was deeply concerning.

"Sit down," Renee said softly, and Michelle did, searching her eyes frantically and only finding regret there.

Renee pulled her in for a hug, slowly, which Michelle returned tentatively, hearing Renee whisper in her ear, "I can't stay."

"Why?" she asked desperately. "You scared me so much. I was so worried. Whatever you're going through, talk to me. I'm here."

She shook her head, her arms sliding around her waist in a familiar way, one Michelle acknowledged she might not feel again for a very long time, the same way she might not hear her voice, or smell her perfume, or see her smile…

"I need to do this on my own. I'm not being reckless. I…" She took a breath, clearly exhausted. "When I signed up for Quantico, it was because I wanted to help people by upholding the law. But that day proved that the FBI is not powerful enough, not against conspiracies like this. It opened my eyes. I still want the same things. I just need to see if being at the FBI is the right way to go about them. Maybe it'll mean a different government agency. Maybe it'll be something more on the ground. Maybe it won't be anything official, just something meaningful to me that gives me a reason to wake up every morning and tell myself I'm doing the right thing. Larry's giving me vacation time. He understands."

Michelle respected her point of view, but she still felt she was running away from something.

"Then let me help you. I understand what you're feeling, and so does Tony–"

Her grip tightened. "I don't want to burden you. You and Tony deserve time to talk and work through things, without having to worry about me, when this is something I know I have to decide for myself."

That made Michelle pause, pulling back slightly to meet her gaze. "Renee, I haven't gotten back together with Tony, if that's what you're thinking. He's been staying with me, and now we're both working at the CIA, but we've only kissed a few times, we haven't slept together or done anything–"

Her racing list of explanations was silenced by Renee crushing her bruised, chapped lips to hers. Michelle could taste dried blood, but she kissed her back, treasuring the moment as she became more convinced it would be some time, maybe forever, before she had something like it again.

Renee moved back, holding her face. "Whether you are or you aren't doesn't matter to me." She then tucked a hair behind Michelle's ear. "All I know is that you're supporting each other, and that you both need that. You need time to talk through everything. Tony just killed Emerson, someone he loved. Yes, it was to save my life and I'm grateful, but he's going to need someone to help him through that, and that person should be you."

Michelle sighed. Renee was right, but she just couldn't bear the thought of letting her go. At the same time, who would she be to force Renee to stay? Much the way she never would have wanted Tony to take the CIA's offer solely to please her or prove himself to her, she would never want to try to convince Renee she could find the answers to her existential problems when she might not have them. If stepping away from it all was what she needed, then Michelle couldn't stop her.

"I– Just promise me one thing?" Michelle asked, her eyes watering.

Renee tilted her head.

"Wherever you end up calling home, whether you decide to come back to DC or you find your place somewhere else, tell me, keep me in the loop. I still want you in my life. Regardless of what happens with me and Tony, whether we get back together for real, or we stay friends, or something in between, that has nothing to do with the extent to which I love you and care about you and want to support you. So please, don't shut me out, don't make this goodbye forever."

"I won't," Renee said, and Michelle believed her. "I– I know I fucked up by making you worry. I wasn't in the right headspace back then, but now, I'm telling you, to let me do this, at least until I figure out what I want, then I swear to you, you'll be the first to know."

She took a shuddering breath, feeling tears start to roll down her cheeks. "Okay," she whispered, getting to her feet, letting Renee's watery smile convince her that this was okay, that she would be safe. "I love you so much. Be careful."

"I love you, too."

They embraced one more time, but Michelle then gained the strength to move away, knowing if she didn't now, she would hold her for eternity. 

When she came back to Tony, now standing and looking at her expectantly, he seemed to know what had happened, closing the distance between them to hug her.

"She'll be okay," Tony assured. "She's strong."

Michelle nodded against him. "I know."

"We're going to be here for each other, okay?" he said assuredly. "We'll take it one day at a time, okay?"

It would still be a lot to grapple with, for both of them, in their own ways, on top of all the existing turmoil, but if it was one thing she believed, it was that they would get through it.

You've reached ending #6 out of 13. Try a different combination of choices to see what happens!

Michelle was convinced she needed someone to put a password on Tony's file, one she didn't know, one she couldn't hack her way around. The number of times she had opened it now was borderline obsessive. It was torture, absolute torture, to keep making herself look at his face, to remind herself that he was out there somewhere, when there was very little to do about it. He had made his choice, and she should respect that, she should. She never would have forced him to take the CIA's deal if it wasn't really what he wanted anymore, but she couldn't let go, either.

A hand warily came to her shoulder. "Michelle, why don't you get some sleep?" Renee suggested. 

She looked at the time in the corner of the screen. It was very late. If her doctors knew what she was doing, they would certainly scold her. She was supposed to be resting. She had fallen through a ceiling, fought off a ruthless assassin, and gotten shot. She really shouldn't be out of bed, let alone stressing the way she was.

Finally, she looked up at Renee. Bless her for all she was doing to help find Tony, even though she had no reason to. Renee cared about her so much, too much, perhaps.

"Thank you for being here," Michelle said gratefully. "I know a lot has happened, and we still need to talk about things, but your support means the world to me."

Renee smiled, apparently needing to hear that. "You're welcome. I just wish I could do more. But obviously..." She sighed, trying to find her words, and Michelle hated to think she was making her walk on eggshells. "He knows exactly how we're searching for him."

Michelle nodded glumly. That was the whole problem. It wasn't just that he was a former Fed and knew how searching for a fugitive worked. It was that he knew how she would go about finding him, and therefore how to outwit her perfectly. It made her question whether finding him was even possible or necessary, if he apparently didn't want her. She should be able to move on. She should. She should be able to live her life while holding him in her heart. But this was different to last time. He wasn't dead. He was alive. He was alive and out there somewhere. The closure she had felt interacting with him that day, having him in front of her, was all but gone. She was back in that awful limbo she had felt upon seeing that fateful CCTV screenshot for the first time.

But she couldn't let her own despair make Renee think she wasn't helping. She needed to let Renee give her hope.

"You being here is more than enough. I mean that," Michelle emphasised.

Again, Renee seemed affected by her words. Michelle couldn't stand the thought of Renee thinking that she had forgotten about her or didn't care about her. She was everything to her.

Michelle shut the laptop, using the table to assist her as she stood. "Let's go to bed."

Renee had stayed over every night since her discharge from the hospital. Initially, Renee had politely offered to sleep on her fold-out couch, but Michelle had been the one to insist that wasn't necessary. She needed the assurance she wasn't alone. Renee had understood, although both of them were still maintaining some ridiculous platonic courtesy, keeping a small gap. It wasn't quite like the night she had found out Tony was alive and her world had come crashing down. She was vulnerable, but she didn't want to use Renee like that, couldn't expect her to be that for her. It just felt wrong at this point. At the same time, it seemed like Renee really wanted to be there for her.

"Renee, I love you," Michelle reminded her as they got under the covers. "I love him, but I also love you."

Renee scoffed, putting a hand on her forehead. "You don't need to say that. God, I'm not expecting anything of you. I'm here for you because I want to be."

"I know, I just– I want you to understand that. I'm worried sick about him, and everything between us is on hold, but that does not change the fact that I love you, and you're important to me."

Their eyes met. There was so much to say, but they couldn't open this can of worms, not now.

Michelle took a deep breath as she scanned her keycard and came through the door to the bullpen. She half-debated turning around and going home, but she couldn't. She had told herself last night that enough was enough, that she had to let go, that she had to let Tony honour his choice. She had told Renee that, too, that she didn't want Renee to be strung along like that, that she would just need some time, and then they could talk.

She expected to find everyone staring at her, but she didn't even get that far because Rebecca grabbed her by the arm and pulled her aside, walking her to Saul's office. That couldn't be good. Saul wouldn't look her in the eye. That couldn't be good, either.

"What's going on?" Michelle asked, taking her seat.

Saul sighed, looking at Rebecca like they were debating who should be the bearer of whatever bad news they had, then returning his gaze to her, obviously deciding he was doing it himself. 

"Taylor changed the order on Tony to shoot to kill."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "W... What?"

"It's been over two weeks, long enough for him to turn himself in. She said he was a liability because of his intel and experience."

Michelle shook her head. "Shoot to kill orders are for criminals who have been profiled as willing to hurt innocent people. That's not Tony. That's the opposite of Tony and that's why he was even offered the CIA's deal. He didn't even hurt anyone in his pursuit. The guard he knocked out was fine. Nothing's been connected to him!"

"But he refused that deal," Rebecca pointed out, "so Taylor's interpreting that as a statement. It's bullshit, I know."

"Larry and I tried to reason with her. She wouldn't have it," Saul commiserated, and she appreciated it dearly, particularly Larry's input. "She might have appreciated the work he did, but not enough, not now that he, through his choice, renounced the government."

Her face felt hot, a lump in her throat forming. This couldn't be right. They couldn't be telling her that after everything, they were going to be torn apart again. Sure, they never would have been together in the same way, but she would have wished him well and kept him in the back of her mind. Now, the very government she had served and sacrificed so much for was not only going to treat Tony like a pariah, but kill him for it, too.

"This is what happened last time all over again," Michelle concluded, her eyes starting to tear up. "It's politics. Palmer would have pardoned Tony, he said that to Jack, that it didn't matter how it would look because he wasn't going for re-election, but then his brother forced his hand, wanted him to close well. And now?" Her voice broke. "Taylor's doing the same thing. She's trying to make sure she looks like she can take affirmative action and people want someone to blame so they're scapegoating him — again."

"I know it's awful, Michelle, but there's nothing we can do," Rebecca said pitifully. "Now, we have even more reason to be searching for him because he's a higher priority fugitive than before."

That gutted her more, knowing that her colleagues, people she served alongside were all going to be racing to be the one to find her husband so they could kill him. She felt like she might throw up, but she was mostly full of anger, anger built from the grief over him that remained in her heart. She was also surprised by her apparent lack of objectivity here. When he had been arrested the first time, she remembered somehow trying to rationalise why the government had taken these steps — something Tony had ultimately interpreted as unsupportive of his situation, when it had only been a coping mechanism. But this time was different. That little voice wasn't there anymore. It didn't tell her that if this were anyone other than her husband, or even Jack, or any of the other misunderstood agents she knew, she would be ultimately agreeing with Taylor.

All she could think about was him.

For the first time, she truly understood what Tony had felt the day Saunders had called him, threatening her life. She thought she had gained sufficient insight when he had been kidnapped the day they had gotten back together, but that was so far removed from what she was experiencing right now. Again, the difference was that little voice, the one that had reminded her that all of their lives had been in jeopardy and that Tony's couldn't be saved at their expense, which was not here now. Sure, part of that was the lack of ongoing nation-wide catastrophe, but more importantly... she just didn't care anymore. All that mattered right now was him. She would do the unthinkable, sacrifice herself in a heartbeat, sell her soul to the devil himself, if it meant making sure he was okay.

She rose from her seat and walked further down the hall to her office, grabbing whatever was hers and shoving it into an empty cardboard box. Michelle was vaguely aware of footsteps behind her, but ignored them in favour of continuing to pack.

"Michelle, what are you doing?" Saul asked, his tone slightly wary.

"What the hell do you think?" she responded gruffly, clearing out the last of her drawers before standing up, admittedly fast enough that it made her dizzy, but she refused to show a shred of weakness here.

He exhaled. "You're upset, and you have every right to be, but this is insane. If you want a vacation until you feel better, take it, but think carefully about what you're about to do."

Michelle scowled, looking him in the eye, taking out her badge and slamming it down on the desk. Rebecca's eyes widened slightly. It wasn't like it had made a loud noise, but the weight of its symbolism had stunned them both into silence.

"I'm done." Michelle held up her hands. "I'm done."

She stormed out, with nobody daring to follow her. When she made it to the ground floor, the security guards were silent as they performed their routine searches. She might be furious right now, but she knew that making a scene and refusing to be checked would only delay her more in her goal. She didn't know how long Saul would wait, but the second he concluded she really wasn't coming back, he was going to track down her devices and shut her out from any database access. If she copied the right information over before he did so, he wouldn't have a chance of tracing her activities.

There was only one thing she had to do now: find him before the CIA did.

Renee pulled up to the curb somewhat guardedly. She had a spare key, so she had planned to make some dinner for the two of them before Michelle got home, but Michelle's car was already in the driveway. It could easily be rationed as her still recovering from her injuries and not yet up for a long shift. But Renee had the feeling it wasn't that simple. Nothing ever was.

When she came inside, she found Michelle on the couch, surrounded by papers, the light from her laptop screen illuminating her face. It was a freakish reminder of how she had acted the day she had found out Tony was alive, stoic and hyper-focused. She didn't react to Renee's entrance at all.

"Hey, I thought you were finishing a little later tonight. I was going to make some dinner."

"I quit," Michelle said plainly, not looking up from her screen.

Renee blinked a few times, not quite registering those words. "What?"

"I put my badge down and I quit," she clarified.

Renee came closer to Michelle. "What happened?" she asked levelly.

Michelle looked up with a scoff. "Larry didn't have the decency to tell you?"

Now, she was really worried. Obviously, something had happened at the CIA, but Saul and Larry had been keeping each other apprised of what was going on with Michelle and Tony. For Saul not to tell Larry, or Larry not to tell her, more likely... it couldn't be good, especially considering that she was now the liaison and should have been informed for professional and personal reasons.

"I barely spoke to him all day. I ran the bullpen while he was on the phone with Taylor." Perhaps that had had something to do with it. That hadn't been a good sign, either, now that she thought about it. Usually, Larry wasn't on the phone with the president alone unless something big, but also highly classified, was going on.

Michelle met her gaze. "They're going to kill him."

There was only one person that him could be referring to. Her stomach sank. 

"They changed the order?"

"He's a liability, apparently."

She could see all the signs now, the way Michelle was acting. It was exactly how she had been in the early days of her discharge from the hospital after the car bomb. That frightening, intimidating facade masking a deeply vulnerable and aching soul.

"So... so now what?"

"I need to find him so I can warn him," Michelle answered simply.

If she had stormed out of the CIA and apparently abdicated her badge, she obviously didn't care that she had basically just announced she was going to aid and abet a fugitive. Michelle's record was pristine, but if she helped Tony evade capture and got caught, they might make an example of her. Renee wanted to shake her by the shoulders and snap her out of it, but, at the same time, she could understand. After everything Michelle had done, this was a total punch to the gut. She had every right to be furious, and she had every right to help him avoid something that was utterly unfair. Renee believed Tony needed to be punished for his actions, but not like this. Even if he wasn't important to Renee the way he was to Michelle, Renee recognised they were vilifying him for political gain.

"I'm sure he's keeping an eye on his file," Renee pointed out assuredly. "He knows how to keep himself underground."

"I just– It's different now. I need to talk to him. Maybe if he turns himself in, it'll be okay."

That broke her heart, the idea that Michelle still wanted to save him, even though it was pretty clear he didn't want to go back to prison. Michelle's hands were shaking, and she was looking away again, almost like her words held no water.

"I know he won't want to, I know that. But I have to try," she went on, having perceived Renee's thoughts.

"What can I do to help?"

Michelle seemed surprised by that. "You shouldn't," she just answered, her lips pressing together. "At best, it's obstruction of justice. At worst, it's aiding and abetting."

Renee shrugged a little. Obviously, Michelle was doing this very consciously, which meant, no, she would not wake up and walk back into the CIA with a sheepish apology. She was beyond the point of no return.

"You have a career and a future ahead of you," Michelle pleaded. "I don't want you involved with this. I know I said I appreciated your support, and I do, but now it's different. I have to do this on my own."

Rationally, she knew she should. She should hug her, tell her she wished her the best, and walk out. They might already be stalking her. Hell, she had been thinking about whether she even still had a chance with Michelle, and now the turnabout of the situation had made it clear. Michelle would not be stopped in her pursuit of Tony. And while Renee wanted to help her, she had to think of herself, at least, a little. She would go to prison for Michelle, she would give her life for Michelle, she would do a lot of things for Michelle, but this was for Tony. Michelle was doing something solely for Tony, and Renee could respect and understand that, but it wasn't her place to get involved, not too much.

"What if I don't help you, but I still... help?"

Michelle's brow furrowed.

"Technically, I'm still meant to be searching for Tony as part of my duty, right?" Renee pointed out. "Who's going to know whether I'm searching for the FBI or searching for you? I've already been working overtime to look for him, but they can't prove why I'm doing it."

She seemed to understand the logic, but still looked hesitant. "You're walking a fine line," she said. "If any of this came to light, I wouldn't hold my breath for Larry to defend you."

"I know," Renee admitted. "But I still want to help. I'll be careful, just like you will."

Michelle bit her lip. "Alright."

Renee ended up making the dinner she had planned to anyway, then grabbed a burner laptop Michelle had and helped her search. They really didn't have much to go on. Before, that had been a bad thing, but now, in some ways, that was a good thing, knowing the government didn't have a solid lead, either.

Chloe and Jack both called Michelle at some point. That had been happening almost every night. Both of them were with their families in LA, concerned and conflicted about Tony, but Michelle had insisted that while she was grateful for their support, she didn't want them involved in this any more than they already had been.

While Michelle was on the phone, Renee realised she recognised a face in the security footage of a gas station she was looking at. She had been searching somewhat randomly, only guided by the hypothesis that Tony was heading north to the Canadian border. He could be on the other side of the world for all they knew, but the FBI and CIA had kept a pretty close eye on private airfields, so the likelihood of him having gotten onto a private chopper or jet was small. Of course, Tony, being a former Fed himself, meant that this could be a total waste of time.

But Renee zoomed in a little further and confirmed that the cluster of pixels looked familiar. More than that, the face only seemed to appear in these few frames. The rest, she soon concluded, was on a loop. Unless this man was also a fugitive, incidentally, there was no reason for these cameras to be cleared.

"Did you find something?" Michelle asked, having noticed her scrutiny.

"I... I think I might have."

As Michelle came closer, she turned the screen around to show her. The immediate raise of Michelle's eyebrows inclined Renee to think that she agreed with her conclusion.

"W-When was this?"

"Last night. There's a motel up ahead, unless he circled back somewhere, he... he could still be there."

Both of their breathing became audible. Michelle looked like she was about ready to get in her car and take off, but who knew if she was already being tracked in anticipation of this? Renee, too, since they knew she was the only one who might help her right now? But they couldn't just ignore this. This might be their only hope.

"We could take a vacation," Renee said calmly, meeting Michelle's confused gaze. "You're not doing well, right? You're not thinking straight. You walked out of the CIA. You need a break."

Michelle's lips slowly upturned, deducing what she was getting at.

"And I'm all you have right now, so... so I could take you somewhere, a road trip. You just want to be away from everything right now, don't you? No phones, no computers, no contact, just the two of us."

Her voice lowered. "You'd do this for me?"

Renee nodded, smiling a little. "It's just a vacation, Michelle. If something happens, and you change your mind, well, I don't know what's' going on in your head, do I? They can't blame me for anything."

She hummed. "Let's get packing."

Michelle's heart was racing almost as fast as the windshield wipers were moving, trying to clear the pattering rain. She had intended to sleep in the car while Renee drove, but she hadn't been able to, not when she was so aware that they were getting closer and closer. She should still be watching for tails, even though they had gotten a rental car, paid in cash, and rigged the GPS to show a totally opposing route.

She still couldn't believe Renee had done this for her. It was a big risk, and she appreciated it dearly. Michelle would never forget it. She wished she could show her gratitude better, but her brain was too preoccupied with the current task that she couldn't bear to think about the future. It just wasn't important right now. Right now, she had to save her husband, make sure he understood that the government was not offering him any leniency, so he had one shot left to turn himself in. Otherwise, she would wish him the very best. She felt a creeping sense of paranoia, aware that if they were tracking her, it might be her fault that they find him, and she would never forgive herself for that. But she and Renee had checked, and checked again, that everything was in place.

The sign of the motel came into view, making her breath catch in her throat. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but she wanted to believe the feeling in her gut that they were in the right place. Renee parked, and for a second, they just watched the people coming in and out, counted the cars, observed whether they could see lights on or cameras. It wasn't just about Fed instincts, though; when they were alone in public together, Renee still liked to be vigilant and check their surroundings, having never let go of her duty to protect her from those early days.

One of the doors upstairs opened, and she saw a man in a hoodie walk out, apparently to dispose of a trash bag. The rain distorted the figure as he walked down the stairs and past the car to the Dumpsters. But when he turned slightly towards her, she gasped slightly. It was him. His goatee was a little longer, but she had seen enough to know.

As she looked behind herself, Renee already had a laptop out, pulling up the cameras in the area. They had been covering their tracks along the way, but Renee concluded, "They're already on a loop. We're in the right place."

By the time Michelle looked out in front of her again, he had shut the door to his room. For some reason, despite wanting to run up those stairs and go after him fervently, she couldn't move.

"Hey," Renee said softly, placing her hand on Michelle's shoulder and making her look up. "This is your chance. Go talk to him."

She took a shaky breath. She had to do this. She had come all this way. Time was precious.

So, she grabbed her bag and got out, ignoring the rain as she walked up the stairs, looking around herself. Renee had said if they located Tony, she would drive around for a while and park somewhere else, making it look like Michelle had never left, so if they were following the car, they would only find Renee.

Michelle got to the door and knocked, somehow feeling like that was stupid, but not wanting to scare him right now. There was some shuffling. The door had a peephole, so, hopefully, he would realise it was her.

"You have the wrong room," he said sternly through the door.

"Let me in. Please," she begged. "I need to talk to you. It's important."

He opened the door as far as necessary, yanking her inside by the arm gruffly.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Tony hissed, but really, he was just worried and shocked, not upset — she hoped, at least.

"I'm here to warn you. They changed the order to shoot to kill."

He laughed in disbelief. "I know that. You realise coming after me is the last thing you should have done?"

"I've been careful. It's okay," she assured, not wanting to let him deviate. "Listen... You need to turn yourself in."

Tony stiffened. "If I wanted that, I would have done so by now."

"Yes, but now things are different. I can't let them kill you. I can't."

"Even if I turn myself in, there's a good chance they'd give me the death penalty."

She hadn't thought of that. She had assumed a long prison sentence, maybe life, but with the demonisation towards him now, they might just do that. No, that would be even worse. At least out here, he had a chance.

"Sweetheart..." Tony said softly. How long had it been since he had called her that? "You shouldn't be here. I appreciate it. I really do. But you need to go. And if Renee's here, too, so does she."

"Alright, I... I get it. I can't help you," she conceded. "But I just– I need to say that I love you, that I'm sorry, and that... I wish you the best. I'll..." Tears blurred her vision. She was an idiot for thinking she could have changed his mind. "I'll go."

Michelle turned to the door, hoping Renee hadn't left yet so she could catch her in the parking lot, but then Tony called out, "Michelle, wait."

She stopped in her tracks, her hand on the door.

"Stay the night," he offered. "It's already late. You... It would be better if we move when traffic's busy."

It wasn't quite obvious what stay the night implied. She didn't want to be presumptuous, but this might be the last time they ever saw each other. They wouldn't have to worry about what their actions meant tonight, because there wouldn't be a tomorrow to analyse it. This was goodbye. This was goodbye, and the only way she would feel closure was if everything was on the table now.

Michelle looked back at Tony again, slowly taking steps towards him. She ran a hand through his hair, still short, but longer than the buzz-cut since he obviously hadn't seen a barber. It would probably help him blend in better by distinguishing him from his current profile. His eyes searched hers, but she soon brought her other hand to his cheek and tugged his lips down to meet hers. He didn't quite reciprocate at first, but then registered that she meant this, that this wasn't a heat-of-the-moment thing, that she wanted this, wanted him.

His hands went lower to her hips, walking them both back against the bed. He laid her down gently on the squeaky mattress, the look in his eyes telling her that this was as vulnerable and important for him as it was for her, that he was scared, too, but wanted to hold on to this moment and treasure it, that, right now, all that mattered was each other.

Michelle was surprised that she had even managed to sleep after all of that. It had been so cathartic for both of them, an opportunity to show forgiveness, understanding, sorrow, every emotion they hadn't been able to express to each other during their time apart. As she rolled over, she could see he hadn't woken, his arm still draped around her waist. On one hand, she wanted to rouse him since he had intended to leave this morning, too, but on the other... the night had ended so well, she didn't want to make it horribly upsetting by waking him and reminding him they were saying goodbye for good.

She kissed his forehead, slowly moving out of bed and letting his arm flop on the mattress. Her face screwed up slightly as she got up. Her gunshot wound still aggravated her core muscles when they were used. Tony had been so gentle and aware of that, but obviously her body was still physically tired, and the very sunken, unsupportive mattress they had been on hadn't helped.

After texting Renee that she would be ready to leave soon, one by one, she picked her clothes off the floor and bed, putting them back on, but keeping her eyes on him as she did so, still debating waking him. She was already getting teary. It wasn't fair. It really wasn't. She knew now she had no excuse, that she had to let go, but she doubted she ever would. Tony had taken such precedence in her mind since the day she had found out he was alive, and even more so after Saul had told her about Taylor's orders.

But she had Renee. She might need time to figure out what she wanted to do with her life, but she had Renee, Renee who loved her so much, and that was enough. It should be enough. She couldn't keep stringing Renee along like this. Renee had helped her heal and move on. She should be able to do that again. But things were different this time. When she had believed Tony to be dead, she had been able to move forward, knowing she would never see him again, but even though that was still the case now... she couldn't just forget about him being out there, alone and one mistake away from being met with a hailstorm of bullets, with no twenty-one gun salute to follow. It made her fists clench.

She had gotten dressed by now, but decided to look around the room, making up excuses in her head about ensuring she didn't leave something behind that could be attributed to her. Tony still hadn't stirred. The sun was coming through the windows now, although the sky was still mostly grey. Michelle suddenly stopped in her tracks, deciding she needed to force herself to move now, or she never would. She walked to the door purposefully, looked back behind him one more time, silently wishing him good fortune and happiness. It would have felt insincere saying it aloud, but she really did hope he would find some contentment and satisfaction in life. This had been his choice, after all.

As she walked out of the motel room and came down the stairs towards Renee's car, she couldn't help but feel like she had forgotten something, even though everything she had brought with her was still in the bag in her hand.

When she got in, Renee gave her a small smile, but then seemed to study her more intently as she put her seatbelt on.

"Why aren't we going anywhere?" Michelle asked.

"You want to stay," Renee concluded with a bittersweet smile.

It caught her off-guard, making her sputter. "I... What?"

"I know that look in your eyes. You love him, and you want to stay."

"I-If I stay longer, it puts us at risk–"

Renee shook her head, earnestly saying, "You know I don't mean for a few more hours or a few more days."

"I... No, I need to leave. We need to split up to keep him safe–"

"Michelle..." Renee said with commiseration. "It's okay. You know that your best chance of protecting him is being by his side, away from where anyone can find you."

Everything Renee was saying was true, but Michelle couldn't bring herself to admit it. She couldn't hurt Renee like that. She couldn't have dragged Renee into this mess only to abandon her. It wasn't right. She loved Renee. She did. She truly did, and they could have a life together. But when Michelle thought about it, she had already made a choice that interfered with that. Just as she had given Renee the encouragement to take the liaison position, with Taylor's betrayal towards Tony — towards her, too, really — she had walked away from the only thing she had ever known and meant it this time.

Her eyes went to the motel room. She realised all of her anxiety and overwhelm right now was rooted in the feeling of being separated from him, from having him close and walking away. Last night had felt right. It wasn't that she loved him more than Renee. Her priorities had just changed. Running away had been his choice, and she had respected that. But now she had chosen to side with him over the people who had stabbed him in the back. And that just meant she had to be with him. It was the only thing that made sense.

"The longer you leave this, the riskier it gets. If you're going to do this, you need to do it now."

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine," Renee said assuredly. "I know this is what you want in your heart, and I respect that. I just want you to be happy, with or without me."

Michelle appreciated that; it made her feel a lot better about this. "I also meant in terms of plausible deniability. You told them we were on vacation. What's it going to look like if you come back without me? They'll know we went looking for him."

Renee bit her lip, before reaching towards the backseat for one of their duffel bags, the one containing weapons. She fished around before pulling out a syringe and a vial with a label Michelle recognised instantly.

"I thought I was doing the right thing, but you had other plans," Renee said in a very deliberate tone. "You drugged me and went looking for Tony on your own. I have no idea where you went. You didn't tell me anything to protect me."

She laughed through her nose. What had she done to deserve her?

Michelle took the items from her, drawing liquid from the vial into the syringe, verifying the dosage. At least this time, it wouldn't be so much of a shock for Renee. She wouldn't be hurting her.

Renee had pushed some of her hair away, tilting her neck, the veins visible through her fair skin. She could see Renee's pulse was faster than she let on. While Michelle might not be saying goodbye to Tony now, she was saying goodbye to Renee, and that hurt a lot, too. But Renee could still make a good life for herself. She had people who cared about her. She had a future. With her and Tony, their only chance of making it out okay was being with each other.

"Don't let what happened to Tony and I be a reason to ignore what I told you," Michelle advised. "You can still make change in the government. It needs people like you, people whose ideals aren't swayed, people who are loyal and put their heart into everything they do."

She nodded, apparently having needed to hear that.

Michelle cupped her cheek. "You gave me my life back," she said emphatically, her eyes teary. "I love you with all of my heart, and I hope you find someone who made you as happy as you made me."

Renee smiled wetly. "I love you, too," she whispered.

She leaned over, injecting the sedative with care, but not in excess. It would still have to look like Renee had put up a fight. But Renee could easily claim Michelle had done it in her sleep. Michelle watched Renee's eyes flutter shut, kissing her forehead and feeling a tear roll off her cheek onto Renee's skin.

But then she felt compelled to move, aware that Tony might be awake now and preparing to leave. She couldn't miss her chance. It was going to hurt. She was going to think about Renee for the rest of her life, but she had made her choice, and she was sticking with it.

Michelle got out of the car, lugging her things with her, including a few weapons from the other bag, and scaling the stairs frantically before knocking on the door. This time, Tony opened it faster, but with confusion, still half-asleep but able to look at her with concern.

"Did you forget something, or...?"

"I'm staying."

He squinted at her, then let her inside.

"I'm back on the road today. If you want to stay for breakfast, that's fine, but–"

"Tony, I'm staying," she repeated. "I'm coming with you."

Now he looked sceptical, but also pitiful.

"Michelle, don't do this. You think this is what you want because you feel bad, but I give it two weeks before we're at each other's throats. It'll make you miserable. This life isn't for you. Your life is at the CIA, and that's okay. I want that for you. I want you to be happy."

"I already quit," she confessed with a mirthless smile.

His eyes widened. That hadn't come up in conversation last night — well, they hadn't even really had a conversation.

She put her hands on his shoulders. "You asked me once to walk away from CTU and from working for the government, and I failed. I failed you and I failed our family. But now..." She shook her head. "Things are different. I'm walking away, and I'm doing it for real because I'm choosing you this time. You're more important than anything else."

"I don't want you to do this to prove a point. That's behind us now."

"I know I don't have to," she agreed. "But I want to."  

His mouth opened a few times, unable to find his words, but ostensibly floored by what she was saying. It wasn't about him cheering her on for renouncing the government: it was about the solidarity. It was about how, this time, she was choosing him. He had never put that on her, but after her choice had torn them apart, she was taking the chance to make things right.

"There's no going back once you do this."

She nodded. "I know."

"They'll come after both of us," he admonished. "They won't see you as an agent, or a former agent: they'll see you as my accomplice."

"Not if I make sure we stay hidden. Between the two of us... they'll never get close."

Finally, he realised that this was for real, that she was staying with him, and seeing the elation on his face made her heart swell. They were really in this together. After everything, they had prevailed. They had found a way to see eye-to-eye again. Granted, some of the factors influencing their situation had been external, but it didn't change the principle of the choice she was making.

And as he kissed her with an electrifying passion, one that was so reminiscent of their first, she realised what she had left behind: her heart.

You've reached ending #7 out of 13. Try a different combination of choices to see what happens!

While Renee had thought a lot about how things would turn out, she never would have expected Tony to refuse a deal from the CIA, let alone the best deal he could have gotten. Obviously, the only person more surprised and affected by Tony's choice was Michelle. Michelle had determinedly and coldly gone back to work at the CIA like nothing had happened. Michelle had barely spoken to Renee, who was now visiting the CIA's office as part of preparing to take on the liaison role, or anyone, really, unless the conversation pertained to work.

She worried about Michelle so much. She remembered when Michelle had told her about Tony's imprisonment and their divorce. It had been hard enough for Michelle to open up about Tony without so much guilt coming up, but talking about their relationship had helped Michelle learn to work through those emotions. Renee couldn't even imagine how many memories this was bringing up for her, especially since this time, Tony hadn't made this decision in the heat of the moment: he had sat there and chosen to go back to prison, refusing an offer nobody in his position would usually receive. He had made that decision, knowing how much it would hurt her. 

Renee hated him for it. 

Michelle was the most wonderful person Renee had ever known and come to love. Tony had loved her, and lost her, then somehow gotten her back again. Everything he could have wanted had been on the table, yet he had thrown it all away. It wasn't like he had chosen to become a terrorist again or otherwise made a point that he was against the government. He had chosen a selfish, stupid option and broken her heart. Renee had been there while she had picked up the pieces, bit by bit, not without setback, not without fear, not without a lot of strength, and he had destroyed that. She understood what it was like to love someone so much that you would sell your soul just so they could be happy. She had thought Tony understood that, that he regarded Michelle in the same way, irrespective of their relationship status, so it was both bewildering and infuriating to see him do otherwise. Maybe he had changed. Maybe he wasn't the man she'd read about in his file. People evolved. That wasn't unusual.

But, clearly, that was breaking Michelle's heart, having to accept that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't the man she loved anymore.

As Renee got into bed, her hand about to switch off her bedside lamp, she paused at the sound of her cell ringing. She expected it to be Larry or Saul, but found Michelle's name on her caller ID.

"Hey," Renee greeted. "Everything okay?" As if anything could be okay for Michelle right now.

"Hey..." Michelle answered, her voice so weary and devoid of its usual warmth. "So, Tony..." It sounded painful for her to even say his name. "Tony's sentencing is tomorrow."

Frankly, Renee was surprised Michelle was bringing it up, let alone with the implication of going, but the thought of Michelle letting her in right now thrilled her more than it should. Renee just wanted to be there for Michelle in whatever way she would let her. If Michelle wanted her by her side, then she would be there.

"I... Could you come with me? I just– I can't do it alone."

"Of course," Renee assured. "I can pick you up."

There was a small sigh. "Thanks. I... I really appreciate it."

Silence fell between them but neither hung up. Renee was so desperate to seize this moment, ask Michelle how she was, tell her that she loved her and would be there for her, but she wouldn't suffocate her or spook her, nor when she was so vulnerable. It had obviously been hard enough for Michelle to ask her for help, so she wouldn't risk pushing her away. Renee had had to stop herself from fearing what Michelle might do to herself, alone and heartsick, too easily picturing the night she had found her unconscious.

"I better let you get some sleep–"

"Michelle, wait," Renee blurted, unable to stop herself from rambling, her heart and voice racing as she continued. "I just– I'm so sorry about everything. I can't even imagine how upset you must be right now–"

"Renee, it's okay," Michelle said wanly. "It's not your fault."

"I know, I just... I need you to know that I'm here for you."

It came out much stronger than intended, and that was the moment she knew she had messed up. This was not what Michelle needed right now. This was not the time for her to think about it. For God's sake, her husband might get life in prison tomorrow and instead of respecting her boundaries, she was opening up a can of worms, the can of worms.

"I know you are," Michelle uttered quietly, things becoming silent again as Renee pinched the bridge of her nose, resisting the urge to salvage this. "I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks again."

"See you then."

Renee hung up, sniffling. She had never missed Michelle like she did right now. She wanted to hold her. She wanted to dry her tears as they fell. She wanted to give her a place to feel loved and safe. She wanted to remind her that she was not alone in this world. She wanted to give her everything. If only Michelle would let her.

Michelle felt like she was getting ready for a funeral — and technically, the death penalty was not off the table for Tony, even though it was unlikely. She had changed her outfit about five times, not dramatically, just swapping her shirt for variations of burgundy, navy, black, grey, nothing cheerful but nothing morbid, either.

A small part of her was convinced that if she didn't go, it wouldn't be real. But it wasn't like she hadn't already been seeing the effects of his choice. She had walked past an empty office in the halls of Langley that could have been used by him. People had been afraid to mention Tony around her, their whispered gossip ceasing when she came into view. She hadn't even gone to see him in the jail cell they were holding him in, but had been given some curt assurance from Saul that he was being protected. She had also resisted the urge to look up the judge or any other details about his case because she couldn't change anything. Even if she walked into the courtroom and begged Tony on her knees, she couldn't change anything. She was powerless. She couldn't save him, no matter how hard she tried.

In a way, she almost would have understood if he had broken out of custody and disappeared off the face of the earth. Doing so would have symbolised him choosing freedom, choosing liberty, choosing Emerson's way of life over hers. While that still would have been hard to process, it would have affirmed to her that he was still the same man she had known, deep down, because at his core, he had been loyal above all. Whether he was on the right side or the wrong side of the law, he was loyal, and she would have respected a decision that conveyed that. But this… this wasn't a sign of anything other than self-loathing, stubbornness, and insecurity. It made her question everything she had ever known about him, particularly their time apart, both the first and the second time. Did she know him at all? Had she ever know him? Could this have been anticipated? More than that, had she not loved him enough to make him realise he was worth redemption?

She heard a car pull up outside and concluded the grey sweater she had on would have to suffice. She locked up and came to the front door, greeting Renee, who looked very concerned for her but hid it under a mask that most would never look beyond, except her. Renee seemed like she didn't know what to do with herself, and Michelle supposed she should blame herself for that. She had isolated herself so much. Their last proper conversation had regarded Renee's desire for a meaningful career change. Michelle wished she could tell herself that she had thought about calling Renee over these last few weeks, to her dismay and fear… she had felt like Renee couldn't help her, more than that, that she couldn't be helped.

As they got in the car, nobody was surprised by the silence. It wasn't the time for small talk. And although Renee's support was implicit, she felt like vocalising that was inappropriate, too. Even as they neared the courthouse, deja vu slowly consuming her, it surprised Michelle that her heart was steady, that she wasn't shaking, that she wasn't feeling anything she should be. Michelle had to wonder if she was really a ticking time-bomb, if, when the judge handed down the verdict, she would let out a guttural scream and fall to her knees. She remembered having these feelings at the sentencing for his first treason charge, but somehow getting through it with nothing but a nod and a sense of glum acceptance. She also remembered having this same worry for Tony, wondering whether he would finally break, drop the facade of strength and stoicism that he had been keeping up for her and everyone else and maybe for himself, but he had gotten through it, too. She doubted this time would be any different.

Surprisingly, the courtroom wasn't very full. Most of the people who knew Tony and would be interested in the outcome of the sentencing were too busy doing their job as federal agents. Saul and Larry had respectively given them the morning off. It only made her hurt more, the empty room likely symbolising to Tony that nobody cared about him. He didn't need that self-flagellation amplified. He unfortunately did a damn good job of it on his own. For all the love and support he had given to others, he could only give himself hatred and criticism. On the other hand, not having the press here like last time was a blessing. They had made a bad situation so much worse.

A few people stared at her as she walked in. Even the decision of which pew to sit in felt like it had to be considered. She couldn't bring herself to be at the front, but the back felt wrong, too. For fuck's sake, she was his wife — had been his wife, at least — and she was thinking about seating arrangements. Renee obviously knew she wasn't doing well (God, she was so good to her, too good to her) and guided her to sit in the third row, keeping close to the aisle. Jack soon showed up, giving her a hug that was far too reminiscent of Tony's first sentencing.

There wasn't much waiting before they were asked to stand for the judge, and Tony was brought in, too. This time, the deja vu was much worse and harder to ignore, like a stab to the heart. She thought she was keeping herself composed, but Renee's hand ever-so gently, almost apologetically, reached out to hers. Michelle took it, but didn't squeeze it, couldn't squeeze it, feeling like it would mean something that she didn't even know if she wanted. Jack's hand rested on her other forearm.

The proceedings went as expected, all his charges laid out, only this time, she couldn't be angry at the labels being used to describe him because they were true. They were all true.

"Mister Almeida, you were offered the deal of a lifetime by the CIA. A deal that, I say with the least offence possible, nobody in your position deserved." The judge lowered her glasses, staring right at him. "Yet you have chosen to throw it away."

"That's correct, Your Honour," he answered, apparently unaffected by the reminder.

"You understand I have to consider this in my decision because, like it or not, that choice was definitive. It stated that you are no longer loyal to the government, that you refuse redemption, and only seek punishment," she went on. "I'm upset by the decision I've come to, knowing who you used to be, but you have left me no choice."

The pause as the judge looked at Tony, then over at her, felt like forever.

"I hereby sentence you to thirty years in federal prison."

Michelle thought she hadn't reacted visibly or audibly, but a few people turned to look at her anyway as the judge finished with more formalities.

She half-expected to get up and scream at him, or follow him into holding, ask the bailiff for a moment, but she just couldn't get her feet to move. This was goodbye. Maybe some day she would muster the courage to visit him — if he even wanted to see her, that was — but for now... this was goodbye.

The courtroom cleared out, leaving just her, Jack and Renee, who still hadn't let go of her hand. It was only when the bailiff apologetically informed them that another sentencing was being carried out in a few minutes, which reminded Michelle that life hadn't stopped for everyone else, just her, that they made to leave.

It angered her when she came out and saw the sun. How could anything be bright when she was feeling the way she was right now?

Jack had to catch a flight, so they said their goodbyes. He had only come back to DC for the sentencing; Michelle was glad he had reconciled with Kim and could finally spend time with her and her family. He said for her to call if she needed anything, but they both knew she wouldn't.

She then found herself alone with Renee, who almost looked afraid of her at this point.

"Look, um..." Renee started, her hands in her pockets. "We've still got an hour before we have to head back. Do you want to grab something to eat?"

She should say yes. She should be grateful for what she still had in her life, say yes, and let Renee be there for her. But she couldn't. She just... couldn't, and that was the closest she would get to understanding the mindset Tony had been in when he had refused to sign the papers.

"I'm just going to go home. I've got enough of my files there..."

"Alright, I'll take you there," Renee was quick to offer. "Maybe I can pick something up for you on the way."

Michelle just shook her head. "I'll take a cab. You can go back to work. I won't keep you."

"Michelle..." Renee said softly, clearly hurt, her face not unlike the expression she had had when Michelle had drugged her, but so much worse.

"I just– I can't right now. I'm sorry."

She felt like she was broken, like this time, her heart hadn't just been shattered but pried from her chest and left to rot somewhere. Even in the early days of Tony's death, she had been able to recognise, largely with Renee's help, that she could heal, that the pieces were there and she could put them back together. But this time, it didn't feel possible. Everything felt heavy, hopeless, just... wrong. She didn't know how to feel anything but what she was feeling right now. She didn't know how she would ever feel happy, ever feel love, ever feel human again.

Maybe things just weren't supposed to work out for her.

You've reached ending #8 out of 13. Try a different combination of choices to see what happens!

Michelle stared blankly out the car window, still a little drowsy. The exhaustion of that day, particularly her injuries from falling through the ceiling of the safe-room, the mercenaries at Starkwood — one, in particular — and getting shot, had all caught up to her. It was a good thing the FBI and CIA hadn't needed any intel from her over the past couple of days because she wouldn't have been able to give them a coherent answer.

She had spent most of those hours in the ward in and out of sleep. They had kept her a little longer than expected to monitor for a suspected infection, but eventually determined there was no risk. Now, Rebecca was driving her home. Although Rebecca had made the offer based on them living relatively close to each other, Michelle wouldn't be surprised if she had also done it as a favour to prevent her from interacting with Tony and Renee. She hadn't spoken to either of them after Renee had confided in her about her sense of duty and wanting the liaison position, and Tony had agreed to take the CIA's deal. That gave her some comfort, knowing they were on good paths in either case, but with the conspiracy no longer a pressing issue, it left little for her to do other than think, long and hard, about what she wanted. 

After Rebecca pulled into her driveway, she helped Michelle step out of the car. The adjustment from sitting to standing still aggravated her stitches, even with painkillers, so the help was appreciated, but she was fine to be home alone. 

"I'll get you some groceries tomorrow morning before I head to work. Call if you need anything."

Michelle smiled, leaning on her doorjamb. "Thanks again."

Walking inside felt somewhat eerie. Not seeing the inside of her house for a few days because of a crisis was not abnormal, but the profoundness of everything that had happened made it feel very significant. She was so far removed from the position she had been in a few days ago, physically, mentally, and spiritually. Her future looked a lot brighter than it used to, but it was no less complicated. There was a lot to unpack. Forcing herself to make a decision today felt almost silly, but she wouldn't be able to rest until she gave it some thought, while trying not to go in circles. The longer she delayed this, the worse she would feel, and the more she would question herself. Really, it wasn't like she hadn't been thinking about this for a long time. Granted, it was only a few days ago that she had learned Tony wasn't quite the terrorist the government had initially perceived him as. But she had never ruled out the possibility of a relationship with him, admittedly, having always had faith that there was more to it, faith that was now justified.

She decided to shower first. She still had a waterproof chair to use from the early days of being very weak on her feet after the injuries from the bomb, so she wouldn't have to get too tired standing and leaning against the wall. It was funny how a shower could be so symbolic. After days like the one she had just had, the simple act of taking a moment for herself was both a staggering reminder that she was somehow alive and had beaten the odds, and that she had worked hard, physically and mentally. The act of scrubbing her body and washing her hair also seemed to take some of the negativity and intensity of the day off. As much as she would like to take some more dedicated R&R, her phone was still on and within reach. Work-life balance just wasn't possible as a federal agent.

It was about lunchtime by the time she got out. Although she wasn't a proficient chef by any means, she could at least say her food was better than what she had eaten in the hospital — Saul had, however, kindly snuck her some homemade food for lunch the previous day. She ended up making a grilled cheese with some tomato soup she had frozen, nothing particularly special, but comforting. She also turned on her diffuser and opened a couple of windows, wanting to air out the house a little. Her apprehension towards smoke made diffusing essential oils a better alternative to candles.

She sat on the couch, burying her face in her hands, taking slow, deep breaths. In a way, she was almost angered by the choice in front of her. She didn't feel like she deserved not one, but two people who cared about her so deeply. But she loved them, God, she loved them, with all of her heart. And that was why making this decision purely in terms of logistics didn't seem like the best approach. It had to be practical, yes, but she didn't want to be so impersonal about this. It had to feel right in her gut, too. And only she could figure that out.

After so many years apart and all they had endured, just seeing Tony made something light up in her. With their history, it was impossible to consider leaving him behind, even if he had made choices that she might never get over, and vice versa. It certainly helped that he was making much better decisions now. His actions might have exposed a part of her character she hadn't known about, but ultimately, he was a good man, and his heart was in the right place. There would be a lot to talk through, and it would be difficult, no doubt, but that didn't mean it wouldn't be worth it.

As for Renee, well, they had still been together for a long time. Renee had supported her through some of her darkest days. She had not taken the break-up lightly, though. Even after discussing it and learning more about why she had done so, it was clear the wound would not heal over, not yet, at least. Renee was more closely aligned with her present values than Tony was — than Tony had ever been, in some ways — but that didn't mean their relationship wouldn't come with its own difficulties. She had, to some degree, broken Renee's trust, and that would take time to recover.

Either relationship would have conflict and disagreements. It was just whether those incidents blew out of proportion from years of emotional charge and became impossible to resolve, something that they would just come back to over and over again. 

The key problem was she could see a future with both of them. Getting married — or remarried, again — having children, building a life, likely in DC, together... would make her happy, and would hopefully make the other person happy, too. She still wanted the other person to be in her life; they certainly would be as a colleague, but as a friend, too, ideally. Was that selfish of her? Would the other be so heartbroken and yet agree to stick around, purely for her sake? She didn't want that. She wanted all of them to be happy in their own ways. They had all suffered and dealt with so much, to varying degrees, in varying facets. Michelle couldn't live with herself if her decision or the way she expressed that decision resulted in losing someone.

She knew she was at a crossroads. She knew this choice had to be what was best for her. It had to be what her heart wanted. Her mind had to be content enough, too. Even if the road less travelled was always somewhere in her subconscious, it had to be quiet enough not to interfere with her life. She hoped dearly that she wouldn't lose the other person in her life completely, and that they would be understanding. She also hoped that the one she decided to be with wanted to be with her, too, that they wouldn't believe they would constantly be compared to the other one or need to prove themselves up to some standard to make her feel better, because that was simply not what she wanted.

There was only one part of this choice that was clear to her. It wasn't about who she had more to make up to. It wasn't about who was going to give her an easy life. It wasn't even about whether she loved one of them more than the other, because she loved them both equally. It was about making a choice she could live with.

What should Michelle do?

 • Be with Tony ⇥ Go to Chapter 28-a

 • Be with Renee ⇥ Go to Chapter 28-b

 • Take more time ⇥ Go to Chapter 28-c

As Michelle got out of the car, she still had to ask herself what she was doing here. Some of the agents who caught her gaze seemed to be thinking the same thing.

Larry came up to her. "Hey," he said warmly. "How are you feeling?"

It had only been a few days since everything had gone down, so her movements were still ginger. He had kindly sent an agent — not Renee, pointedly — to her house to pick her up and bring her to Emerson's compound.

"Getting there," she replied. "Still feel like I could sleep for a month."

He laughed through his nose, before explaining, "We've mostly finished up in there. Forensics are trying to get some prints to identify the other members of his crew, but you're more than welcome to look around in case Tony has anything in there you might want."

In a way, it felt like he was a coroner offering her the belongings of a dead man, but that was the opposite of what had happened. Tony was gone, and he was alright. Although she was hurting at the reminder that she had, in some ways, lost him just as she had gotten him back, it wasn't agonising her the way it probably should. Tony's choice to spend his life with Emerson had cemented a sad, but honest realisation: she had been learning to let go of him ever since she found out he was alive. She had craved closure, but had mistaken it for a desire to get him back. Now that the smoke had cleared, she could acknowledge that she had just wanted to know that, at his core, he was still the man he loved, and in most ways, he was, and that he was happy, with or without her.

"I have to say, I think I'm still processing your reaction to all of this," Larry said with a slight nervous smile. "Your husband broke out a terrorist and ran away with him, but you apparently couldn't be happier for him."

Michelle nodded. "I don't blame you. I think I surprised myself, too, but..." She shrugged. "I want him to be safe and enjoy his life. He's suffered enough."

"And you're absolutely sure that Emerson didn't force his hand?" Larry asked warily.

She shook her head. This had come up in the hours following his escape, the question of whether Tony had been coerced, but she had had the utmost faith that the decision had been made of his own volition. Larry and Saul had somewhat tried to convince her otherwise for her own sake, apparently wanting to give Tony the benefit of the doubt. But in the twenty-four hours or so they had spent together, she had come to understand that he was as devoted to Emerson as he had been to her.

"I was married to Tony for long enough to know that you can't make him do anything. Push him hard enough and he'll run five hundred miles in the other direction out of spite. The only exception is when someone he cares about is at risk. Emerson might have manipulated him, to some extent, but he had been in custody. He couldn't have threatened me or anyone else. If Tony broke him out, it was his choice. I believe that. I really do."

"You're the expert..."

Michelle spotted a familiar head of red hair in her peripheral vision. Michelle leaned slightly to look at her, not sure what she wanted to convey, biting her lip. Renee didn't seem to know what to do with herself either. Larry just looked between them.

"I hope you both can talk things out now that this mess is over," Larry commented. "You make her really happy. And by the sounds of it, the same is true in reverse."

She hummed in assent, feeling an urge to just run over to Renee and tell her that she loved her, but it wasn't the time or the place. While she wasn't conflicted about what she wanted: to be with Renee for the rest of her life, she needed to take time to digest what Tony had done. More than that, for as long as the FBI and CIA made finding Tony their priority, it wouldn't feel right. Another threat would inevitably come up, and Tony would just become another fugitive that they wanted to catch. It still felt strange to think of him like that. For her, Tony had just gone off to live his life; for everyone else, he was someone who needed to be apprehended and imprisoned, no different to Emerson. It hadn't made Michelle doubt her sense of duty, but it had made her recognise how Tony had felt all those years ago when he had put her above national security. She honestly prayed they never caught him, and she doubted they ever would.

Larry then walked her inside, saying he was happy to stay for as long as she needed to while Renee coordinated the FBI and updated the CIA on their findings. She was really loving her new position as the liaison, and Michelle couldn't be happier for her. She wanted nothing more than for Renee to thrive in her life and her career.

Most of the compound was bare, understandably. It wasn't particularly interesting, yet Michelle couldn't stop herself from imagining Tony here. Had he made dinner for Emerson in that kitchen? Was the grocery list on the fridge for them? Had they fallen asleep on the couch watching TV together? Had he lived here? Had he loved here?

Had they planned their jobs here? Had he sat at the table and talked about hijacking a plane or blowing up a building like it was a regular Tuesday?

She shook her head. For as much as she wanted to honour the fact that he and Emerson loved each other, it was still a dangerous, slippery slope that led to the reminder of what he and Emerson could be doing now. If they were smart, they would stay under the radar from now on. They wouldn't do anything audacious and risk the US or any foreign governments finding them. She wanted to believe they were going to retire and just spend time together, travel the world, do whatever it was that fugitives did. The mass of diamonds that Emerson had gotten from Nichols inclined her to believe that they would have no problem supporting themselves. It was a matter of Emerson's greed. Would he want to pick back up as soon as they were in the clear? Or would Tony have asked him to leave that life behind and just be with him, the way he had asked her to leave CTU all those years ago?

Upstairs was not too different. The rooms had either been bedrooms or workspaces, all bare, the tables covered in dust marks where laptops and folios had once been. But when she came into the large room at the end of the hall, she was assaulted with the nostalgic sense of Tony's aftershave. Apparently, he hadn't changed it at all. The smell wasn't even that strong. It was just something she could pick up on. The bed, slightly unmade, again, had her thinking almost wistfully about them. She didn't want to romanticise their time apart. But she could recognise that he had found happiness where he could, much the way she had with Renee. That happiness didn't have to be dampened by the impact of her decision to go behind his back or his decision to work for Emerson.

Larry was still in the hall, giving her some privacy, apparently. She found herself looking through drawers, not particularly sure what she would find or what she even wanted to find. She just felt like his presence was in this room and wanted to hold on to it, since she doubted she would be here again. There was nothing really in there, although she found a series of blank postcards, all from quite idyllic locations. She couldn't tell where they had been taken, and there were no captions on the photos, either.

When she got to the last shelf, she nearly didn't bother. It was hurting a lot for her to bend down, yet she felt compelled to look inside. And she was glad that she did because she found a very familiar Cubs sweater, one she had gotten him years ago for his birthday. It had some limited edition logo or colouring that had made it very difficult to find and quite expensive. For a second, the thought of him having left that behind, like he had done it to leave her behind, hurt her, but then she noticed a piece of paper fall out as she unfolded it.

I love you, and I'm sorry, it read. She sniffled, holding it to her chest. He had left it for her. He had been packing his bags in a hurry, aware that the FBI was on his tail, yet he had stopped to leave her this, knowing she would want to search the place.

"Michelle?" Larry asked from behind her, obviously having heard her.

She turned to look at him with bright eyes, making his eyebrows raise.

"You okay?"

Michelle nodded. "He, um..." She cleared her throat. "He left me something."

Larry seemed to understand. "Take whatever you want. We're all done here."

On a whim, she grabbed the postcards, too. It was silly, but she would probably put them in a little keepsake box or something that she would never look at again. Nobody seemed to mind, after all.

After one more sweep of the room, she told herself she had to say goodbye, even though Larry looked like he would gladly stay here for hours until she had closure. It meant a lot that he was being so kind to her after she had caused such chaos at the Bureau and, to some degree, betrayed his trust. She might not be working with him much in the future, but she would appreciate the time she had spent working under him. He had been a good boss, and for as much as the CIA and FBI liked to bicker, Saul seemed to agree.

Michelle came to the doorway of the bedroom, no longer stopping her tears from falling, the sweater securely in her grasp.

"Bye, sweetheart," she whispered.

For as much as Michelle had no desire to even get close to tracking Tony and Emerson down, her curiosity still got the better of her. So, despite having every reason to be resting in bed, she was sitting on her couch, wearing the Cubs sweater, and using a burner laptop to search through traffic camera and satellite footage. There wasn't much to go off. She had replayed the snippets of him in the alleys near the J. Edgar Hoover Building more times than she could count. She could probably give a frame-by-frame summary from memory.

Admittedly, most of her insomnia was a result of her rehearsing what she wanted to say to Renee, usually not getting very far into her little speech before deciding that everything was wrong and she wasn't sending the right message. She needed to make things up to Renee, assure her that she loved her, that she hadn't stopped loving her, that she appreciated her dearly. She couldn't word vomit. She needed to tell Renee how she felt and what she wanted, and allow her to do the same without anxiety clouding her thoughts. Although she was sure when she did muster the courage to initiate this conversation, all of her mental planning would go out the window, anyway.

The FBI had deduced that Tony and Emerson must have left the country, based on that being the aim of Emerson's first escape attempt. But that didn't exactly narrow things down. They could be anywhere — although non-extradition countries would be a smarter option. However, as Michelle asked herself this question again tonight, she realised she might have a hunch, one she could safely explore since the FBI had no idea about this computer.

She got up slowly, walking towards her bag, where the postcards still were. She had already put the note from him in a box in her closet for safekeeping. They were certainly photographs, not paintings. Maybe she could find them online. The postcards could have come from anywhere, but who was to say that a reverse-image search wouldn't turn up anything? Michelle almost wanted to stop herself here. Was she really about to stalk them like this? Should she be doing this? She would be careful, of course, but she still had to ask herself if this was contradicting her apparent contentment with the situation. More than that, if she found them, she would lose plausible deniability if, if, the government ended up finding them down the track, too. This would have to stay secret. A deeply buried secret. Would she tell Renee? Should she? That might make things worse, putting her in an awkward position between her loyalty to her and the law. More than that, starting off their renewed relationship with a lie would be terrible.

Michelle decided she wouldn't. She couldn't. The postcards weren't evidence. Larry had said so. So, if she accidentally shredded them, it wouldn't be an obstruction of justice, by any means. In some ways, she was now more tempted to hang onto them. But they would haunt her. She would always be aware of their presence. It would be akin to The Tell-Tale Heart, only with the sound of crashing waves or seagulls haunting her as opposed to a thumping heart.

Her hands clutched the postcards tightly, unable to ignore the fact that getting rid of them would mean losing just one more piece of him. But she would hold him in her heart, as she had been. It sounded cliché, but it was true: she just carried him with her every day. She had grown around her grief. He might not have died, but she had lost him, she would not be with him again in this life. Maybe in another, they had made things work. Maybe in another, he had become a CIA agent. Maybe in another, she had run away with him. There were endless possibilities, but none of them mattered because right here, right now, she didn't have him anymore, and that was okay.

She managed to walk to her study and pull out her shredder. It was nearly full. She should probably empty it, but shredding classified documents, as she often did in her line of work, had its own protocol. The photographs would be added to the pile of clippings, and then she would call Saul and get them off her hands tomorrow, so she would never have to think of them again.

One by one, Michelle dropped the pictures into the slot, the shredder taking a little longer than usual because of the thick-ish cardstock the postcards were made from, but ultimately getting the job done. She took a deep breath. If this wasn't closure, she wasn't sure what was.

And now, she really had no excuse not to talk to Renee. This was over. Renee might still be performing some duties to look for Tony, but she was mostly doing a lot of onboarding with the CIA as part of her new position.

Michelle looked at the clock on her wall. It was nearly one in the morning. She should go to sleep and do this later. Then again, being up at this time was not abnormal for either of them, and at this rate, she thought she might explode.

She decided to call Renee.

Renee had only been half-asleep when her phone rang. She initially assumed it was Larry, or even Saul, but then her heart skipped a beat when she saw Michelle on the caller ID. There was only one reason she could be calling, and it terrified her. She felt almost frozen, equally anxious about having waited for this call as she was about answering.

"Hey," Renee answered. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm... I'm fine. I just, uh..." Michelle trailed off, apparently just as nervous as she was.

"Did you want to come over?" Renee asked, not sure what had possessed her to be this forward but realising that talking face-to-face might make this easier.

There was a pause before Michelle said, "Yeah. I do. That would help. I just, uh, I'm still on my pain meds, so I shouldn't be driving."

"I'll come to you then," Renee decided, feeling even more desperate now, but clearly both of them were fumbling here.

"Great. I'll, uh, I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, see you soon."

Renee let out an audible breath as she hung up. The reminder of Michelle's injury seemed to make her neck wound hurt more, too. Did she love Michelle so much that she felt sympathy pain? She had heard of parents feeling it for her children. Renee's mother would swear she felt sympathy cramps when she had her period. When Renee thought about it, she had saved Michelle's life, twice, and it had made them very close. They had nearly lost each other that day, too, and been there for each other in a very intimate way. Maybe it wasn't that much of a stretch.

As Renee started to get dressed, she found herself second-guessing everything. A tracksuit somehow felt so informal for the discussion they were about to have, but what was she supposed to wear at one in the morning? It was still an upgrade from pyjamas. Was Michelle in her pyjamas, too? Had Michelle put jeans on? Should she put jeans on? God, she felt like she was going on an impromptu first date. Since when was she this nervous around Michelle? She didn't want to mess this up. That was why. She knew this conversation would make or break them. She had to make sure Michelle understood that she had forgiven her for everything, that if she had been in the same position, she probably wouldn't have done things too differently, that she loved her with all of her heart and wanted to support her. Rationally, her outfit really didn't have much bearing on that, but she mulled it over, anyway.

Her compromise was a nicer tracksuit than the one she normally wore. For some reason, some crazy reason, she also brought something with her that, at one point, she had told herself she never wanted to look at again. But her intuition wouldn't lie to her like this, right? Her intuition guided her every day as an agent. Her intuition had saved her life, and Michelle's, more than once. She had to believe it was worth trusting, that it was worth listening to the small hope in her heart that she was going to come out of this conversation full of joy. 

Renee locked up and got in the car, driving the familiar route to Michelle's house, trying to control her breathing. When she came to Michelle's street, she could see the light in the living room was on. How many times had she pulled into this driveway, usually bearing groceries or snacks for her and Michelle to enjoy? How many times had she picked her up outside to take her to the movies or the gym or wherever they had planned to go, even work? It had been a long time, she realised, a very long time, since she had casually come to Michelle's house like this. The last instance was when she had brought Michelle home the day she had found out Tony was alive.

When Michelle greeted her at the door, Renee could see her chest was moving, like she had been rushing around, perhaps trying to tidy things up. She was wearing a Cubs sweater that Renee had never seen before. Tony's? Renee had remembered Michelle being upset over not having any mementos of Tony. Had she gotten this from the compound today?

Michelle must have noticed she was staring because her eyes flitted down to the logo, then back up again.

"I, uh, I can explain," she said, not quite sheepishly, like she had been caught by surprise, but more that it would be part of their pending discussion.

She let Renee in, and they found their familiar spots on the couch. Michelle offered her a drink, and since they were both still on painkillers of some variety, they opted for tea. For a moment, neither of them said anything, just sipping their drinks in silence.

"I tried to think about what I wanted to say about a million times, but now that you're here..." Michelle laughed nervously. "I've come up empty. So here it goes..." She sighed. "I love you with all of my heart," she said carefully. "You are so important to me, and I'm grateful to have had you as a colleague, as a friend, and as my partner."

For some reason, Renee felt herself start to doubt everything. It was more of a mental reaction than a physical one. The idea that everything would work out okay — or better than okay — was such a rarity for people in their line of work that good news always came with scepticism.

"And I need you to know that has been a constant in my mind and in my heart. Even when I found out Tony was alive, even when on that day, everything was falling apart, that has not changed."

Michelle said it so emphatically that it made Renee wonder whether she had been doubtful that Renee would take her back. It was insane; of course, she wanted Michelle back. If Michelle said she wanted to move halfway across the world or join the circus, she would do it — although really, the one more likely to make impulsive adventurous decisions was her, not Michelle. Renee tried not to get too caught up in it. She needed to listen to and absorb Michelle's words. Michelle was telling her she loved her. That was a good thing, a very good thing.

"When I walked into Emerson's compound..." Michelle shook her head, and Renee could see she was getting teary. "I didn't think I would feel anything because from the moment he took off, as soon as I came to understand it had been about Emerson, not about running away or spitting on the government, I realised that I had already learned to let go of him. Finding out he was alive all those months ago had made me start to process the fact that there was a plausible chance I wouldn't get to be with him again."

When Renee thought about it, it made sense. Sure, Michelle had been utterly shocked by the revelation, but with the break they had taken, and all that had been revealed that day, there was a lot more clarity to be had. Michelle had had time to think about her future. It hadn't just started the other day. It made Renee more assured of this, of the idea that Michelle was not saying this on a whim and would later retract her words, but that Michelle was saying this because she truly meant it and believed it.

"He left me this." Michelle tugged on her sweater. "I bought it for his birthday years ago. I don't know how he even still had it. And I'm going to hold on to it. It's all I've got left of him."

There was a fondness in Michelle's eyes that made Renee's heart clutch.

"But the way I felt when I found it made everything clear. I didn't call you because I decided that with Tony gone, you're all I have left." Their eyes met. "I called you because seeing what Tony did for Emerson, seeing how far he went, how devoted he was, made me remember that I would do the same for you, that you are the one I want to be with, that I've wanted to be with you this whole time, because you're so good to me. You've loved me and nurtured me at some of the worst times of my life. You've never judged me. You've never–"

She took a sharp breath, a tear falling down her cheek. Renee was getting misty too now, wanting to throw her arms around Michelle and kiss her, but having enough self-control to let her finish, to cherish this moment.

"You've never ever been jealous of Tony or resentful of my past. You've loved me for who I am. You've made me feel like life was worth living. At a time in my life when I hated myself with every fibre of my being, you proved me wrong over and over again. I wouldn't be here without you. So, what I'm saying is... as soon as you're ready and able to make this work, let's do it, because we know that life is too short to wait for these things." She smiled wetly. "I want to be with you, Renee."

Renee could go on her own speech, echo her words, confirm that her love was reciprocated and then some. But actions spoke louder than words, and the perfect tool was sitting in her bag.

As soon as it came into view, Michelle clasped her hand over her mouth, clearly understanding the implication. Renee opened it, the memory of the last time she had held this box fading from her mind, forced out by the strength of the love and pride she was feeling right now.

"You're my whole world," Renee whispered. "You've made me happier than I ever thought was possible in my life. I never– I never thought being swapped out on an undercover mission would end up being the best thing that ever happened to me, but here we are. There've been some bumps in the road. But that's behind us now. I forgive you for everything."

The look on Michelle's face made Renee realise that meant a lot to her.

"I don't even need to. You did the right things. You always do the right things. You inspire me every day to make good choices, to be the best person and the best agent I can be. We lift each other up and we will keep doing that as we make our future together. So will you marry me, Michelle?"

She nodded eagerly. "Yes," she whispered. "God, yes."

Renee took the ring out, her fingers trembling as she slid it onto Michelle's ringer.

"It's beautiful," Michelle commented, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry for what happened last time–"

"Shut up," Renee breathed, gently cupping Michelle's face so their lips could meet. Michelle held her for dear life, laying back against the sofa so Renee could cover her body with her own.

Out of all the ways that day could have ended, Tony's great act of love had been a surprising one. But it had been the catalyst for her and Michelle to commit to the promises they had made, and leave the past in the past — without it coming back from the dead this time.

You've reached ending #9 out of 13. Try a different combination of choices to see what happens!

As Michelle woke, she was a little surprised by, but welcomed, the feeling of Renee's hand intertwined with hers. She sighed, realising she had rolled over during the night such that she was face to face with Renee, who was still sound asleep. Even now, after most of the stress regarding the conspiracy had been eased, waking up next to her still brought Michelle a sense of peace — particularly on a day like today, when she needed the reminder that she wasn't alone.

Michelle used to isolate herself when times were tough, but everything she had been through had changed that, and now she, admittedly, had a greater dependence on her relationships than she used to. The fear of having everything ripped away from her had not subsided. She wasn't sure if it ever would. But Tony's choice, even if she understood the rationale behind it, had brought up a lot of memories of feeling alone and helpless. Renee had been her rock these past few weeks. She had helped her so much, able to put aside their own need to discuss that day and what had been revealed, just to support her. She really was lucky to have her in her life. 

They hadn't quite discussed the future of their relationship yet. Although they had returned to sharing a bed almost effortlessly, they hadn't slept together. There was nothing that needed to be said; they each derived comfort from each other's presence. It wasn't unlike the night after Michelle had found out Tony was alive, the shock hitting her so viscerally that she had desperately needed someone to ground her. However, now they didn't have a conspiracy hanging over their heads. After Tony's sentencing today, they could finally have a proper conversation, but Michelle doubted it would take long. Everything felt right when they were together. It wasn't that she didn't love Tony anymore; on the contrary, knowing he would be in prison for several years only made her fret for him more. But his decision to throw his life away for Emerson — not unlike how he had saved her all those years ago — had made it clear that their loyalties were no longer aligned, not the way she had secretly hoped they would after that day came to an end. It was still difficult to accept. She would still mourn the loss. But understanding why he had done it made it much easier to process.

Finally, Renee stirred, and Michelle met her eyes with a small smile.

"You sleep okay?" Renee asked.

Michelle nodded. Although it had been hard to fall asleep with the thought of today, ultimately, she hadn't gotten into a spiral because she had accepted that regardless of what happened, Renee would be there for her. She wouldn't have to cope with it alone.

Renee showed even more thoughtfulness as they started to get ready. It wasn't to make a point of it; Renee was just trying to make this day easier in whatever way she could, and Michelle appreciated that so much. She made her coffee, she ironed a shirt Michelle had planned to wear but had forgotten to lay out, and she made sure the house was locked up, which allowed Michelle to take the morning slowly. Her chest was tight as she became more cognisant that she would, in some way, be saying goodbye to Tony today.

As she came to meet Renee at her front door, she reminded herself to breathe.

"You look nice," Renee said quietly, and Michelle thanked her equally audibly.

The drive was silent, but appropriately so. Despite the calmness, as they came closer and closer to the courthouse, deja vu slowly set in, reminding of the fear she had felt back then. At least this time, she knew the death penalty was highly unlikely, but back then, with the attention of the press, she had had to deal with people asking her how she would cope if her husband was executed. She remembered trying to be brave for him, seeing him try to be brave for her, then both of them breaking down in the small holding room of the courthouse, Jack practically prying her off him as he was taken away. This time would be different. She wouldn't get her hopes up for the length of his sentence. His existing charges, plus what he had done for Emerson, meant there was a strong chance he would be spending most of, if not the entirety of, the rest of his life behind bars. But she could live with that, even though deep down, she wondered how he would cope, knowing how hard it had been for him to spend seven months imprisoned. She wouldn't know what to do with herself if they executed him.

"Michelle?" Renee asked, looking at her worriedly. The car had stopped. They were parked at the courthouse.

Michelle tried to take a breath, but it got caught in her throat. She couldn't breathe, let alone speak, and Renee clearly knew this because she took her into her arms, holding her fiercely.

"I'm right here with you, okay?" she said with profound affirmation. "No matter what happens, I'm here for you."

She squeezed Renee back tighter, thanking her again for being there for her, before they got out of the car and walked in. Jack was already sitting in a pew close to the front, and his presence both made her feel better, but also reminded her more of the past. He had been going back and forth between here and LA, having reconciled with Kim and committed to being a part of her family, for which Michelle was so glad. But understandably, Tony was important to him, too, so he had wanted to be here.

When Tony came in, their eyes met in a way that conveyed he knew exactly what they were both thinking about. However, she didn't see quite the same fear she had last time. Obviously, he was afraid, and prison was not appealing to him, but he wasn't the man he had been all those years ago. Back then, he had been a Fed about to be thrown in prison for a very human and empathetic choice. Now, deep down, at his core, he was the same: loyal to the end, and that gave her great solace. However, he had been working on the wrong side of the law for some time. Maybe this didn't scare him as much now. Maybe he had accepted that this was inevitable given his actions.

Renee held her hand during the proceedings, trying not to let the rather long list of charges remind her of the potential sentence he could receive.

"On top of refusing a deal that most people in your position would be very lucky to receive, Mister Almeida, you facilitated the escape of David Emerson, your associate."

He nodded. "That's correct, Your Honour." She remembered that same look on his face, not quite pride, but certainly not shame or regret, when the judge had so bluntly stated that he had allowed Saunders to escape and jeopardised national security.

However, even though aiding and abetting a fugitive was not a measly charge, the judge mentioned — with some hesitancy — that technically, nobody had been harmed thus far as a result. The guard Emerson had disarmed had only been knocked out, not killed. Although the FBI was at a loss for where to find Emerson, there were apparently no crimes that could be linked to him. Michelle had to wonder if that had been by design, whether that was a sign that Emerson and Tony's relationship had healed, that Emerson was willing to avoid unnecessary violence to mitigate the impact on Tony. She might not approve of how Emerson had taken advantage of Tony, but she could recognise that he loved Tony and cared about him. They could agree on that much.

"All of this considered..."

Michelle tightened her grip on Renee's hand. Jack's was resting on the opposite forearm. The judge gave her a curt look, clearly knowing who she was, and then turned to Tony.

"I hereby sentence you to thirty-eight years in federal prison."

She let out a breath. Not as long as it could be, but that was certainly difficult news to take. Although Tony tried to act stoic, she could see it was a little confronting for him, too. Court was dismissed, and she made her way over to him, her knees feeling like they might buckle. The bailiffs stood in her way, but Jack managed to speak to them and request that she be able to say goodbye to him.

Understandably, since Tony had used a holding room to his advantage to let Emerson go, the guards stayed in the room with her and frisked her quite thoroughly, which was difficult for her to deal with when he was a mere few feet away from her and all she wanted to do was throw her arms around him.

When she was finally released, they closed the distance between them in an instant. She clung to him tightly as he squeezed her back, no longer fighting her tears. Neither of them said anything. They just understood that they needed this moment of closure. It was going to be a very long time before she got to hug him like this again. Given his charges, they would only be seeing each other opposite a pane of glass, but hopefully, with time, he could gain some small privileges here and there. She reminded Tony that she would see him regularly, even though he said he wouldn't hold her to it. She might not be his wife anymore, but she still wanted to support him. She still loved him.

The guards said that they had to wrap it up, so she pulled away, looking into his eyes one last time. 

"Be careful, okay?" she whispered, her hand cupping his face.

He covered it with his own. "I will."

Michelle then managed to step back, allowing Jack and Renee to say their goodbyes, too. She was a little surprised when Tony hugged Renee and also registered that he seemed to be telling her something.

They soon came out, and although it was still overwhelming and she was still crying, she felt better than she thought she would, or at least, more contented than she thought she would.

"I'm sorry, I have to get to the airport," Jack said, meeting her eye and putting his hand on her shoulder. "You'll be okay?"

Michelle looked at Renee beside her, and knew she would be, before turning back to him with a nod. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thank you for coming down. It meant a lot to me, and I'm sure it meant a lot to Tony, too."

He smiled a little.

"Say hi to Kim for me," Michelle added, and he said he would.

Once they were alone, Michelle decided she could indulge her curiosity.

"If you don't mind me asking... what did Tony tell you when he hugged you?"

Renee smiled in a very sweet way as she looked at her and explained, "He thanked me for being there for you for all these years."

She had had the feeling it had been something like that, which just made her feel a clutch of affection for him. God, she already missed him.

"He also asked me to keep being there for you, in whatever way you wanted — not that I had any intention of doing otherwise."

Michelle hummed in assent, leaning on the balls of her feet to kiss Renee. Renee seemed a little surprised, but kissed her back nonetheless.

"What was that for?" Renee said with a small laugh as they parted.

She shrugged, her eyes still teary. "Just because."

Renee tilted her head at Michelle. "We've got a little while before we have to be back," she then said. "How about we go get coffee? My treat?"  

Michelle took Renee's hand. "Yeah." She smiled, able to convince herself that although it would take time to accept what Tony had done, things would be okay, especially if Renee was with her. "Let's go."

As Tony sat in his cell, he could honestly say he felt more relief than he probably should. No, thirty-eight years in prison was not a trivial matter to process, but he could recognise that so much of his stress had been rooted in the fear of the unknown and in the unresolved tension. But he had healed things with David and Michelle. It wouldn't be easy, but he stood by his actions, and knowing the people he loved were okay was all that mattered.

He was so content that he didn't notice the guard escorting him in the wrong direction, away from the solitary cells. Tony asked what was going on, but the guard said nothing. Rationally, this could only be a bad thing, but his gut seemed to disagree. For some reason, he felt a sense of assurance.

The lights went out, and then he really started to panic. He felt himself being shoved. The darkness and sirens became disorienting. He couldn't make heads or tails of where he was, or who was around him, vaguely aware of someone's arm around his chest, something cold and hard against his skull. The muzzle of a gun.

Tony yelled in protest and the voice hissing at him to shut up was more than familiar, but he wasn't sure if he could believe it yet. The floodlights were blinding as he was directed outside, but clearly, they knew what they were doing, because they avoided being seen and got into a prison transport van which already had its plates removed.

The van took off in an instant, and Tony still found himself a little confused as he slid around the back of the van.

Soon enough, the person's balaclava came off, revealing a smirk Tony knew all too well, making his heart leap in his chest.

"You didn't think I would just leave you here?" David grinned.

You've reached ending #10 out of 13. Try a different combination of choices to see what happens!

As Michelle dried her hands on the towel, she stifled a yawn. When she looked up at the clock, realising it was only seven in the evening, although the time of year meant it was still pretty bright outside, she wasn't exactly surprised. It had been almost a week since that momentous day, and she was being reminded with every step of what she had been through physically. She had been giving herself some well-deserved rest, even though she still had her phone on, at all times, just in case. However, even with her immense fatigue, she still managed to wake herself up at ungodly hours of the morning and ruminate about the decision she had to make. It felt funny to think she had made some very difficult decisions through her work, decisions most people could probably never make, let alone against the clock, but this one felt harder than anything. In a way, while she had been subconsciously flipping between the possibilities of being with Tony or Renee since she had learned Tony was alive, she had honestly never thought she would have to make it for real, probably because she had never imagined that all three of them — plus Jack, Chloe, Bill, Larry, Saul, Rebecca, anyone and everyone involved — would make it out alive. Particularly with Tony, she had figured he would be behind bars, or worse, on death row, after it all went down, but her heart warmed to know he had ultimately made the good choice of returning to work for the CIA. As for Renee, well, Michelle had had more faith that she would forgive her for keeping the true nature of her role from her.

From the other room, she heard the staccato of two buzzes of her phone against her nightstand, but paid them no mind. By the time she actually turned the lights off and got into bed, she had nearly forgotten about them and was tempted to let them wait until morning. After all, if they were texts, not calls, they couldn't be that important, right? But the possibility of otherwise ultimately drove her to open them.

The number was unknown, but the images that came up made her heart stop, her shoulders hunch, her core tense enough to aggravate her stitches, but the pain of that paled in comparison to the sickening familiarity in her gut.

The first photo was of Tony, duct tape over his mouth and body bound to a chair, his eyes half-shut like he had been drugged, not unlike how he had been in the photo sent by that assassin all those years ago. The second was of Renee, in a very similar position. By the looks of it, they were back-to-back, being held by the same person. She knew she should call the number, opportunity to trace the location be damned, but she couldn't move, horrible memories she had tried hard to forget coming back to her. But she had to remind herself that nothing was set in stone here. The past didn't have to repeat itself. She was different from who she had been back then. She was stronger, much stronger. This being so unprecedented was unnerving in its own way, though. Back then, she had known Tony had been captured in the field. This… this made no sense. It was supposed to be over. The only loose end was, well, Emerson's escape from custody, but they had already assumed he was out of the country. He had disappeared without a trace, or had he?

With quivering fingers, Michelle called the number. 

"I'm surprised you took this long to call back," the voice answered after not even two rings, confirming her suspicions.

"What do you want with them, David?"

"Oh, it's not about them: it's about you, Michelle."

Her brow furrowed. "Me?"

"You see, you're a very lucky woman, to have survived everything you have, to have succeeded in what you set out to do, and to have not one, but two people, who love you so dearly that they bend over backwards for you at the slightest provocation, that they would sacrifice their lives for yours in a heartbeat."

He was saying such positive things, but the way he said them only made her feel a nauseating sense of guilt, like she was about to be punished for succeeding, punished for being lucky, punished for, clearly, his own dissatisfaction.

"See, I don't think you deserve it." She could practically picture the sneer on his face. "I think you've pledged your loyalty to the government and I don't think Tony and Renee should keep suffering for it anymore."

She recognised he was trying to punish Tony by punishing her instead. This came as a surprise, given what Tony had informed her about Emerson basically wanting to cut ties with him for good unless he helped him escape custody, which he hadn't. Had Emerson truly believed he would and then been gutted by the actual outcome? The statement about her loyalty to the government also implied that Emerson thought, at least to some extent, that either she had forced Tony to take the CIA deal, which she hadn't, or that he had only taken the deal to gain her approval and forgiveness, which he hadn't.

"So what do you want?" she asked, her voice concealing her deep-seated pain from the belief that he wasn't trying to get anything out of her or make her yield to some criminal demand, just trying to hurt her.

"I want you to choose," he said simply. "The idea of both your lovers in danger should make you realise that they're more important than the institution you serve. And, of course, this time, losing one for good will make you love the other even more."

So she was right. This was a sick mind game. He could be asking her for anything, but he just wanted to test her.

"You'll have twenty-four hours to think about it before you meet me at a set of coordinates to make your decision."

Her chest was rising and falling emphatically. "How do I know this isn't bullshit? You love Tony. You would never let me kill him."

"Oh, so you've already started thinking about this?"

"No," she insisted. "I don't trust you're giving me your word. How do I know you won't kill them, anyway?"

He scoffed. "So my reputation means nothing to you, then? I am a man of my word. If you indeed choose Renee, then really, Tony deserves to pay for his mistakes, for foolishly submitting himself to you so foolishly when you don't want him anymore."

She prayed to God that Tony wasn't hearing this, at the very least, that he wasn't believing this if he was. Emerson still had a hold on him. Even though Tony had proven he wanted to break free of him, this would be difficult for him to listen to. She didn't want him to think, even for a second, that she was going to comply with this request, that she was going to make that choice — at least, in this context.

"Take the time you need, Michelle, but let me make it clear that if I have an inkling you've brought the Feds in on this, I'll kill them both and make sure you don't even have bodies to bury."

Hot, angry tears stung her eyes. 

"And in case you don't know this, I'm a very paranoid man, so don't be stupid."

As she got the dial tone, she clasped her hand over her mouth, resisting the urge to scream. She knew, rationally, she should call Saul or Larry. She knew, rationally, that this was unfair, and that she damn well would not yield to his demands. But she couldn't get over how personal this was. Emerson wasn't asking for her to do anything illegal. She didn't have to tell anyone, even though she probably should. Other than the obvious fact that he was a fugitive and needed to be arrested, if she tried to come in with backup, as he had said, he would see it from a mile away and she would risk losing both of them. When she thought back to the last time she had had to make a terrible choice like this, she had brought Bill in, and she had nearly lost Tony. The assassin had been testing her, sure, but she was very aware it could have been for real. More than that, if Emerson didn't want anything other than to torture her psychologically, what would threatening him even do? The sadistic tone of his voice had made it clear that he probably wouldn't even care if he lost his own life, so long as he got to see the turmoil on her face when she made the choice.

Jack was the only one she could think of calling, but he was back in LA. So was Chloe. There wasn't enough time to bring them into this, and frankly, she didn't want to. This was between her and Emerson. She was more than happy that both of them were with their families and she wouldn't dare ruin that. It wasn't necessary, either. Saul, Rebecca, and Larry would all gladly help, especially after the service she had given to her country, but she just couldn't risk it.

She would get them out of this mess. She would sooner lay down her own life to free them both than let either of them suffer because of her — again. 

It was hardly comfortable having her head at this angle, but Renee was too exhausted to keep herself upright, and so was Tony, leading to both of them awkwardly resting their heads on each other's shoulders. They were fucked. They really were, this time. She had wondered briefly whether this was all smoke and mirrors and Emerson and Tony would flee together, but the absolute shock and disgust in Tony's voice as he had berated Emerson for doing this had put paid to that. Emerson was being serious and apparently fair. He wanted to hurt Michelle by hurting them both. Not even. Other than having them kidnapped, Emerson hadn't actually hurt them or ordered his men to. Emerson just wanted to push Michelle's buttons, force her to make a horrible, inhuman choice, one that she probably already would have been considering, just not with these consequences. She would have at least had the assurance that they were all alive and well until Emerson had called her. Renee and Tony hadn't been able to hear much, but it wasn't like they couldn't put two and two together. Emerson would make Michelle come here and choose who would live, and who would die. Having uncovered such a large conspiracy, she might not want to trust the government to help. She might show up on her own and helplessly go through with it. 

Renee wouldn't resent Michelle for whatever she decided — the fact that she wouldn't be around to see one decision, notwithstanding. And she wouldn't resent Tony, either. She had not quite been kind to him the day they had met, so now felt like a better time than ever to smooth things over.

"Look, Tony," Renee uttered, lifting her head a little. "I want you to know that… if she chooses you, I trust you'll be there for her. Forget everything I said before. No hard feelings. I know you love her, and you two deserve to have a life together again."

"Renee, you don't have to–"

"No, I do, because you deserve to hear it. Yes, you've made mistakes, but you've paid for them, and you've made better choices now."

He sighed. "I… I appreciate it. But we don't know if it'll get to that."

"Don't we? She wouldn't risk both of us dying."

"Yeah," he muttered defeatedly. "Well, likewise. If she chooses you, I'll be glad knowing you'll take care of her. I… I'm so grateful she's had you. I really mean that. You've healed her. You bring out the best in her."

She felt a pang in her chest at his kindness. She wanted to believe it wasn't a result of the circumstances, rather something he meant genuinely, something he would have said regardless.

"And on the off-chance we do make it out of this mess, and she makes the lower-stakes version of this decision, that won't change."

Renee smiled a little. She felt like this was the first time she had spoken to the Tony that Michelle had known before all of this. She had seen parts of that version of him come through on that day, but now she truly understood who he was and why Michelle had loved him so much.

Silence fell between them again, neither really able to sleep despite it being very late at night or early in the morning. All they could do was wait and see if Michelle would show up on her own, cornered and afraid, or with the cavalry behind her, refusing to yield. She wanted to have faith it would be the latter. But somehow, she couldn't, and that scared her, given she usually believed that things could always go right, even if the likelihood was small.

The two guards, members of Emerson's crew whom Tony had tried to speak to and failed to reason with, were no longer in the room. They were probably guarding the rest of the house, but Renee had to see this as an opportunity. They could try. Emerson would honour what he had said to Michelle, so he wouldn't kill them yet, right? At the very least, Emerson seemed eager to mess with Michelle's head, so he wouldn't want to ruin that.

"Tony," she then said quietly. "Maybe we don't have to let it get this far. We're alone. We can try to make a break for it. Emerson wouldn't kill us yet, you know that. And you know the people here, you know their strengths and weaknesses, maybe you can even try to convince them to help."

He hesitated when he replied with, "I doubt we can rely on that. They beat the shit out of me in retaliation for shooting David, remember?"

Renee bit her lip. "Even then, this is our only chance to escape. You don't want Michelle to have to make this choice, do you?"

"Of course not."

"Then let's do what we can. On three, we'll try to knock the chair to the side. That should make it easier to try to move the rope."

"Alright, which way?"

She motioned with her head. "To the right."

"My right or your right?"

Renee huffed. "Towards the door, not the window. More room that way."

"Okay. On three then."

She braced her core, nodding. "One…" She took a breath. "Two…" She leaned back to gain momentum and felt him do the same. "Three!"

Her temple soon hit the carpet, and Tony groaned loudly — she had forgotten how injured he already was. The room was spinning. They had probably made enough ruckus that someone might come try to check on them. They had to hurry. Renee flexed her hands, finding them less restrained than before, the rope having slid up slightly, constricting her sternum unpleasantly. She tried to shimmy her body to move it further. It had loosened slightly, but not enough. The knot had been between them, just out of reach for either. Tony was struggling more than she was on account of his harsher injuries, so she did her best to push it up over her head, wincing at the friction of the rope against her face.

Undoing the rope around their ankles was much easier, and her heart raced at the sound of footsteps. She helped Tony untie the remaining rope, then got him to his feet. The house was single level, on a relatively large property, based on what she could see out the window. She was mostly sure they were still in the state, but couldn't be certain. Tony had gotten the hint, swinging the chair and smashing the glass. His aim was a little inaccurate, and she could see him staggering, but they both managed to climb out, running with all of their might. They just needed to get to the perimeter.

Just as she got her hopes up that Emerson's crew was far behind them, she heard the familiar cocks of shotguns as flashlights shone right into her eyes.

"Nice try," Emerson said, stepping out of the light and looking between them.

She met Tony's gaze, but he didn't seem to have any ideas, already getting on his knees and raising his hands. Renee did the same, accepting that when Emerson restrained them again, he wouldn't make it nearly as easy to break out. 

Michelle wished she had come up with a plan in the last twenty-four hours, but she hadn't. She got out of the car, looking around herself in case someone had followed her, both hoping someone had, and that they had not. This was it. She had exhausted all her options, save for trying to kill Emerson herself, and even then, that was unlikely given she was still struggling to walk long distances on account of her injuries, and that he was probably not alone.

Two men guarded the door. They said nothing to her, simply opening it and instructing her to take the second left in the hall. She was armed, and they hadn't seemed to care about that, which made her slightly optimistic, but when she entered the room full of computers and screens, a rough, calloused pair of hands started frisking her. Emerson stood there, amused. The guard told her to interlock her hands behind her head. He was more than necessarily thorough in his check, taking the gun in her holster and her boot, the knife strapped to her side, and her cell. He even looked for an earpiece. It made her somewhat glad she hadn't said anything to anyone in the end, unfortunately, because he clearly would have seen through it. Rebecca had noticed she was behaving strangely at work, and had tried to press her, but Michelle had played it off as being stressed about contemplating her future. She hoped Rebecca had bought it. But at the same time, she hoped she hadn't, and that if she was trying to help, she was doing so from afar.

"You can go, Litvak," Emerson said once he was done.

He nodded and obeyed, taking her contraband with him, leaving the two of them alone. 

"I have to ask how you even broke out," she greeted flatly. She wasn't going to indulge him in bullshit conversation.

"The other loyal members of my crew," he answered pointedly. "The ones that didn't shoot me, refuse an opportunity to make amends, and go back to the institution  — and woman — that enslaved him."

Michelle rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you think happened, but Tony chose to work for the CIA on his own. I didn't force him to take it. I didn't tell him that taking it would fix everything between us because that's not how it works, David. You're upset with him, I get that, but if you loved him as much as Tony made it sound, you wouldn't hurt him like this."

He laughed in disbelief. "You're the one who's hurt him, Michelle. And that's why you have to pay the price."

Emerson then moved away, revealing two similar sights that made her stomach drop. He had upgraded their previous arrangement. Now, they weren't together, but in separate rooms, presumably in the same house she and Emerson were in, each armed with a vest of C4 and tied to chairs much more securely. There were two detonators on the table, each wired to different outlets.

The muzzle of a gun came to her head. "I'll give you one last chance to think because I'm feeling benevolent, but if you still haven't decided…" He waved another detonator in her face. "I take them both out."

She sighed, her lip wobbling as she looked between them. They each looked so afraid. She hated the thought that they each might be convincing themselves she would choose the other. She wanted to talk to them, but doubted she would get the chance. Emerson was right. She had had time to think about this. But she hadn't, not really. She had to wonder if push came to shove, if he started counting down, she would have a knee-jerk reaction and pick one. But she didn't even want to let it get to that point. She refused to let this happen, yet she was powerless to stop it. It didn't matter that she had been contemplating her future with them relationship-wise; this was entirely different.

"Let me talk to them," Michelle suggested. "I promise you, I've thought about this. Just… just let me hear their voices one last time."

"Fine," Emerson decided after a beat, keeping his hand firmly on the gun and using another, noticeably shaking, probably from the nerve damage to his arm, to press another button. "You've each got thirty seconds to beg for your lives. Tony first."

Tony looked around before finding the camera. "Sweetheart, whatever you do, I forgive you for everything. I love you, with all of my heart, and I'm grateful for the time we've had together. Do what feels right. Do what you can live with."

Her eyes crinkled. She went to say something back, but he had already switched off Tony's mic — never mind him still talking and unfortunately being too far from the camera for her to read his lips — and turned on Renee's. "Walker, hurry up."

"I love you, Michelle," she said, clearly trying to sound less afraid than she was. "I'm so lucky to have had you in my life, and no matter what you pick, it'll be okay. You'll have someone who loves you with all of their heart, and you deserve that. You deserve to be happy after everything you've gone through. Do whatever you need to do."

"That's enough," Emerson said decisively, switching off the mic again. "You've got ten seconds, Michelle."

She wanted to fight, even at her own expense. She wanted to be angry, tell him how horrible he was, tell him how much she despised him for being so cruel. But she couldn't move, paralysed with fear and knowing one way or another, she would be devastated and forever remorseful that she had killed someone she loved and would have no chance of getting them back this time. Tears were brimming her eyes. Her hands tentatively went to the buttons in front of her, with consciously equal pressure.

"Four… Three…"

Suddenly, the screens went black. Emerson tried to press the keyboard, but got no response, notably moving the gun from her head. The house suddenly felt a lot more quiet. Could it be?

Before Emerson could realise what he had done, Michelle shoved her bodyweight back, hard enough that she felt her stitches reopen. Turning hurt like hell, but she managed to knock the gun from Emerson's hands as he fired it, shooting a window, before falling to the floor. She kicked him in the stomach, throwing herself on top of him, the ache in her stomach paling in comparison to the fury in her heart and determination to make this right. She pinned his arms down with her knees, one side notably making him feel worse than the other. He couldn't even call into his radio for backup. She could hear a lot of gunfire. Help had arrived. She wasn't going to lose them. She knew she wasn't.

Emerson tried to sit up, but she preempted this by head-butting him, breathing heavily. She managed to reach for his gun and point it right at him.

"For the record? I never would have chosen," Michelle said. "I love them both with all of my heart, and I want them to be happy."

"He'll never be happy with you," he rasped. "He's moulding himself just to please you. He deserves to suffer for his own mistakes. I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen."

"Fuck you," she growled. "You should be ashamed to dare to say you ever loved him."

He seemed to know he had nowhere else to run, just sneering. "You think you know what's best for him? You don't."

Under any other circumstances, that might have made her pause, probably long enough for him to overpower her. But she didn't believe it, not at all. Tony had made that choice on his own and she stood by that firmly.

"You don't, either," she simply said, before firing a round straight into his forehead.

She let out a breath, her body aching. While her feelings over Emerson had evolved from entirely negative to a little more nuanced over the course of that day, right now, she was pretty damn glad he would no longer be a problem for any of them.

"Michelle!" two wonderfully familiar voices called from behind her, and when she looked up, she could see Saul with Renee, and Rebecca with Tony, both coming towards her, roughed up but clearly okay. The anger she had felt moments ago was surpassed by her overwhelming sense of ease. Now her side was really aching, and she could feel warm blood sticking to the fabric of her shirt. She couldn't even speak, just let out a noise of relief and burst into tears as they each bent down to embrace her.

"We're here," Tony uttered.

"We've got you," Renee whispered.

She held them for dear life, realising now more than ever how much it would crush her to lose either of them, let alone both of them. She truly loved them with everything she had. No matter what Emerson had claimed, she was not ungrateful. She was not blindly putting the government above them. She valued the greater good above all else, yes, but that was largely because she knew a better world for everyone meant a better world for her loved ones. She tried not to think too much, just appreciate the feel of both of them holding her, securing her, comforting her.

It was only the medics arriving that got them to move away, both assuring that they would be back as soon as they could and that everything was okay now. Saul and Larry started directing teams to sweep the house while Rebecca helped her get up.

"How'd you figure it out?" Michelle asked.

"I bugged your cell when you went to the bathroom," she explained with a smile. "I knew something was up. When Larry told me Renee wasn't returning his calls, either, that was when I clicked."

She nodded. "Thank you so much. I just– I was so scared if I told anyone they'd spook him."

"Well, that's what intuition is for, right?" Rebecca then glanced at Emerson's body on the floor. "And at least he won't be a problem anymore, for anyone."

At that moment, it occurred to Michelle that although Emerson had threatened his life, Tony might be a little upset by her killing him.

Rebecca tilted her head, having noticed her concern.

"N-Nothing, I… I just realised I killed someone that Tony loves, or at least… loved."

She shook her head. "I think he'd certainly understand why. Trust me, when he saw you, he just ran towards you without a care in the world. Even then… Emerson tried to kill him, and Renee, I don't think Tony would have exactly forgiven him for that, either."

"You're right," Michelle agreed.

"House is clear," someone then said, and she looked to see Saul. "We've detained the remaining crew members, those we caught, at least. You'll all be brought back to the FBI for debrief and then probably stay there until we can guarantee the threat on your lives is gone."

"Thanks, Saul," Michelle said appreciatively.

"And they can stitch you back up, too — again," Rebecca pointed out, making Michelle laugh through her nose.

While she was grateful she hadn't had to make that choice, she was still aware she had one to make, equally difficult, even if it wasn't life-threatening. But that choice she almost made, and this choice she would have to make, would have had to be, and had to be, a choice she could live with.

What should Michelle do?

 • Be with Tony ⇥ Go to Chapter 28-a

 • Be with Renee ⇥ Go to Chapter 28-b

 • Take more time ⇥ Go to Chapter 28-c

Michelle tried to control her breathing as she came into the holding cell. Although Tony had signed all his papers from the president, with all the people they had in custody, it was taking a while to get him set up, and they had decided he would be safer here than in a hotel on account of all the enemies he had made, including Emerson's crew. Plus, they were still getting intel from him about Wilson.

He reacted to her presence immediately. There was still a slight stagger to her walk, but she was at least on her feet. Even though she still needed to take breaks to rest her body, usually siting down was enough.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, as she took a seat across from him.

She nodded. "I'm okay. Still can't sleep on my side, but I'll get there."

He smiled a little. "That's good to hear."

"And how are you?"

Tony sighed. "Tired," he answered. "I haven't been able to sleep." He gestured with his head to the small cot in the holding cell. It didn't look very comfortable. Still, even if this were the Marriott, he would probably feel the same. "But I've had a lot of time to think."

"Me too," she agreed. "Which is why I'm here to talk to you."

He was searching her face, but she was intentionally keeping it steady. She was probably going to cry, but she just prayed it would be from joy, not from sadness. The latter would come later.

She took a breath. "I want us to try again."

His head shot up, but he seemed to be shocked, not upset, she hoped. "What?"

Michelle reached across the table and took his hands in hers. "I want to be with you," she said, meeting his eyes.

"I… Michelle, you and Renee will work through things. I see how she looks at you. She loves you, and you love her. You'll make each other very happy. What you have is special. Don't give up on that-"

"I do love Renee, but I also love you. I'm not saying this out of obligation, that because I married you twice that I need to marry you again. I've been contemplating this for longer than you might realise," Michelle started. "The other day, we both asked each other about forgiveness and neither of us really answered. We've both made mistakes and crossed lines that we never thought we would. The question isn't necessarily about whether we regret them, because I don't regret what I did but I regret how I did it, and maybe you don't regret some of the things you did with Emerson in the early days, but you regret not speaking up sooner. I don't–"

She paused and shook her head. So far, Tony seemed very deep in thought, paying attention to her words. Him not scowling or interrupting her with some offended comment about her assuming he would forgive her, were good signs. It helped that they were much calmer than they had been during their confrontation the other day.

"I'm not answering for you or assuming anything. I'm just trying to say that forgiveness shouldn't be conditional on regret, just acceptance. Can I live with knowing that you, in some ways, undid the work I was trying to do, and can you live with knowing that the reason we lost each other again was partially my fault. Until we each found out the other was alive, we didn't really think we had to answer those questions. We both carried that guilt with us, but now we don't have to, not in the same way."

He nodded, his expression a little more neutral.

"You said something the other day about Renee giving me light. She helped me heal in so many ways, and I will cherish what I had with her. But there wasn't a day that went by when I didn't hold you and our son in my heart. Which is why everything changed when I found out you were alive, and I believe she will understand that. I ached for you." She took a shuddering breath. "I needed to know the truth. I had faith that there was more to the FBI's initial assumptions, that you were still the same man I loved, and you are. At your core, you still are. I know that for sure. You're my husband, and I love you, unconditionally. The way I see it, people in our line of work don't get do-overs. But somehow, we've gotten another one. We're both still here, and we love each other, even if we have some things to work through. I-I don't like to believe in signs, not when we've had so many horrible things happen to us, but I believe that has to mean something."

He was very affected by her praise of and belief in him, which only made her feel more hopeful that he was agreeing with her, that he wanted another chance with her, too.

"I know I've made mistakes." Michelle hadn't wanted to sound this desperate, but she didn't care right now. She just wanted him to know how much she loved him. "I know we've really been through hell this time, and that I'm to blame for a lot of it. But I want to heal with you. I want to be with you again. I-I can't let you go now that I have you back again. Please. I mean it. I want to be with you."

"I…" He seemed to be at a total loss for words. "You do?"

Michelle nodded. "Yes," she said emphatically. "I know it won't be easy, but no relationship is. We have so much to talk about, and there will be good days and bad days, but I want to be your wife again, if… if you'll have me?"

He had his mouth open, shaking his head, and was getting teary. The silence was killing her. Was he maybe just upset that he was about to let her down? She couldn't deny a part of her still felt very stupid and presumptuous, believing she was undeserving of being with him again after how she had hurt him, even if he had hurt her, too.

"I… I know I'm putting you on the spot. I just– I'm telling you that if you want to get back together again, then I do, too." Her voice started to race. "But if you don't, that's okay. I won't hold it against you–"

She was silenced by him cupping her cheeks and crushing his lips to hers. It felt electrifyingly intense, like this was his way of saying he agreed, not like an apology. It wasn't like the kisses they had shared that day. It was totally authentic. Nobody was dying. Nobody was breaking down over nearly losing each other again. She had him, and he had her. They were going to be okay. They had to be.

When he pulled away, he was crying more than before. "I… I would be so happy to be together with you again. I just– I didn't expect you to come here and tell me that. Not in a million years." He sniffled. "I really thought we were over this time. But I want to work through this with you. I know we can."

Michelle smiled through her tears, her chest flooding with relief. "Really?"

He nodded. "Really."

She let out a long breath. "God, I love you so much."

The corners of his Tony's lips upturned. "I love you, too."

She let out a laugh of disbelief. How long had it been since he had said that to her with so much emphasis? How long had it been since he had looked at her like that?

"I have to say, I was a little nervous about having to work together again, but this..." He let out a breath. "Makes it a lot easier. I think it will, at least."

Michelle nodded. It was definitely going to be an adjustment, but they could handle it. 

He kissed her knuckles. "Thank you for giving me another chance."

"Thank you for giving me one."

As nice as this moment was, there was still an unspoken question between them. It dampened the relief she was feeling from this conversation having gone so well, but she tried not to let it fade completely. In any case, it had to be done.

"Have you spoken to Renee?" Tony asked after a beat, seemingly reading her mind.

Her face fell slightly as she shook her head. "Not yet. That was my next stop."

He nodded, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You should probably do that then."

"Yeah," she agreed quietly, giving him another soft kiss before standing and walking towards the door.

"Good luck," Tony called as she grabbed the handle. "But from what I've seen… you won't need it. She'll understand. If she cares about you as much as I think she does, then she's going to understand."

His words were earnest, not pitiful, and she could only hope that they would prove true. 

She thanked him, then started heading towards Renee's office, taking a few deep breaths. Renee's eyebrows rose when Michelle knocked on the open door. She knew Renee's shift was ending, so since this would likely upset her, at least she could go home after. Renee had basically also been camping out here until they could be more sure no reprisals would occur. She would have security monitor her house for a little while, too.

"Can we talk?" Michelle asked, trying not to sound too vague. 

Renee nodded. "Shut the door?"

Michelle did so, but instead of taking a seat on the opposite side of the desk, she crossed the room and took Renee into her arms, feeling a lump build in her throat. Renee seemed surprised, but hugged her back.

She kept trying to speak, hating her cowardice as nothing came out, tears pricking her eyes again, but she finally pulled back, cupping Renee's face and noticing that she already seemed to have resignation in her eyes.

"You and Tony are getting back together," Renee concluded with a nod. "I can see it on your face."

"Yes," Michelle confirmed, her voice a whisper. "It's... it's not that I don't love you–"

Renee hushed Michelle, wiping one of her tears away even though her own eyes were bright. "Michelle…" she said softly. "The day you found out he was alive, I knew things had to end between us. You were so shocked and so hurt, but deep down, I knew you were happy, too. You wanted the truth. You wanted to find a way to redeem him so you could love him again. And even though…" she took a breath, "a lot of things happened to us the day of those attacks, I know in your heart that day wasn't just about fighting to end the conspiracy: it was about fighting so you and Tony could be together again."

She sniffled. Michelle had to agree with her words, but it was still hard to accept that what they had was coming to an end. Although Michelle dearly hoped they could stay friends, she would understand if Renee wanted space for a while. They would both have to mourn a little, even as they both entered new beginnings.

"You gave me my life back," Michelle reminded her. "You've given me wonderful years, and I will cherish them." Her hands came to Renee's shoulders. "And even though we might need some space for a while, I want you to know that you are always welcome in my life. This is not me choosing him over you. I still care about you, and I still want you here for me, if that's something you want, too. You're... you're one of the best friends I've ever had, and it would mean the world to me if we could stay that way."

"Of course," Renee whispered with a small smile. "I care about you so much, Michelle, and I'll always be here for you."

Michelle hugged her again with a long sigh. "Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me."

They held each other for a while, their tears silent. It was a ringing phone that made them part. Michelle stood on the balls of her feet to kiss Renee on the cheek, giving her one last smile before walking out. Michelle walked down the hall to her own office, feeling that something in her had lightened now. She could finally move forward. Those past few days had been some of the longest of her life, but really, she had been thinking about this decision ever since she had found out Tony was alive.

Michelle sat in the chair behind her desk, clasping her hands and letting out a breath.

She had made her choice.

Michelle peeked behind her, still a little affronted by her nostalgia. She never thought something as simple as watching her husband put on a dress shirt would be so emotional. But they were really here. That image she had held in her mind of the two of them at Langley was no longer a fantasy. Granted, it had taken a lot of blood, sweat and tears to get here. Having prevailed through everything was already worth celebrating. But the stars having finally aligned for this chance to be there for them... it was hard not to be incredibly appreciative.

As she put her shoes on and came over to meet Tony, he smiled in a way that made it apparent he was feeling a little sentimental, too. Her hands reached up to adjust his collar slightly.

"I'm not a kid on my first day of school, you know?" he joked, raising a brow.

She laughed through her nose. "I still want you to look good."

He kissed the top of her head, gently enough that it wouldn't disturb the stray curls she had just sprayed down.

"God, I can't believe it's been so long," she muttered with a bittersweet smile as she looked up again, putting her hands on his shoulders.

Tony covered her hands with his own. "I know."

She didn't even need to specify what it was. It was just everything: waking up in the same bed, getting ready for work together, neither of them having anything to hide or building up inside. All of these things had been impossibilities until just a few weeks ago. It made her anxious, but mostly in a good way. They had agreed to take things one day at a time, use that as a mantra as they went into their new future. So much could change in a mere twenty-four hours. They knew that pretty damn well by now.

"It really is nice seeing you in a suit again," she commented, hoping to ease his nerves; boosting his ego a little wasn't the worst way to do that.

"Oh, really? You didn't like the bad boy look?"

Michelle bit her lip. While the moment she discovered he was alive still haunted her, probably would haunt her for the rest of her life, she couldn't quite agree with his claim.


"I didn't mind it," she admitted, but he knew her too well to accept that as a neutral response, smiling that little cocky smile of his that made her want to yank him by the collar and drag him back to bed. Instead, she just narrowed her eyes slightly with a small giggle. "Easy, cowboy. Let's get to work."

Jitters were still high as they got to the car. He was understandably nervous about his first day back as a real Fed, not just an ad hoc consultant, and she was nervous for him, too. It wasn't that she thought it would go terribly. It was more that this was a big step for him — for both of them, really — and she wanted to make sure he understood she would be by his side every step of the way.

They would be working part-time for a little while. She was still dealing with a lot of physical fatigue and burnout, and they were trying to make time for discussions about their relationship, including going to therapy. This time, the world could wait. It helped that neither of them was in charge of anything major, neither of them would have that weight on their shoulders. They had Saul and Rebecca's full support for their new schedule, so maybe, for once in their lives, they could actually strive for some work-life balance — as much as Feds could attain, at least.

When they passed through the boom gates, each flashing their IDs, she could tell it was a big deal for him to be able to do that. Despite her attempts to as, his nerves were still palpable as they parked.

Michelle put a hand on his shoulder, making him look up at her.

"Everything's going to be fine," she said assuredly. "I promise."

He let out a breath. "You sure they won't look at me like I walked right out of Guantanamo?"

She shook her head. "You probably weren't in the right frame of mind to realise it, but when you ran things that day, people listened. People respected you, most of all, Saul. Even if some agents have their own judgement, they can't go against him if they know what's good for them. Besides, Renee's still new around here, too. A lot of the attention will still be on her."

Tony nodded.

"You deserve this, sweetheart," Michelle emphasised, and that was enough for him to look a little more at ease. "Come on. We're in this together."

The corners of his lips upturned. "Alright. Lead the way."

Eighteen Months Later

Tony looked down at his hand again. He was sure he would still be a little surprised by seeing a wedding band on his finger again for the next few days, but it also made him all the more appreciative of the hard work they had done. It hadn't been an easy year and a half; there had been a lot of discussions ending in tears, times where they had needed space since working together had its own set of challenges, and a lot of therapy, both individually and as a couple. They were lucky the CIA had had a recommendation, with top-level clearance, no less. Otherwise, creating metaphors for matters of national security would have been quite difficult.

But they hadn't given up.

They had proven their strength and commitment to each other, once again, so today, they could commemorate their progress. He felt an odd sense of deja vu from the dinner he and Michelle had had for their second wedding, but having Jack there was much nicer this time. It was also nice to see Kim happy, not faking a smile and on the verge of breaking down. She was about ready to pop with her and her husband's second child, making things a little awkward as she danced with Jack, given the function room dance floor was small to start with, but they made do. Michelle was still dancing with her father too, and Tony met her eyes again, giving her a soft smile. God, she was beautiful.

"They've put the cake in boxes for everyone to take home with them," a voice said from beside him, and he turned to see Renee standing there. "And I've put the cake topper in Michelle's bag."

"Thanks." He smiled.

While it had been a little awkward at first, he had come to appreciate having Renee as not just a good friend to Michelle, but to him, too. To his own surprise, he hadn't let jealousy get in the way, because there was nothing to be jealous of. She and Michelle had moved on and found a different way to be in each other's lives. Tony was grateful to Renee. He didn't want to think about the kind of place Michelle might be in if it hadn't been for her. Renee had also helped to organise some of the planning today, so it had felt a little more special and had had some elements of surprise. They hadn't wanted a full-blown wedding again, however, since this time it wasn't just a reconciliation after a divorce, but after several traumatic events and near-death experiences, he and Michelle had agreed they deserved something a little nicer.

"I have to say, I don't think either of us has ever laughed so much at a cake."

Renee grinned. "Well, it was a pretty good idea, if I do say so myself."

She had kept the cake a surprise, and asked the bakery to pipe Third Times a Charm in icing on the top. They had all made the joke before the day, but neither he nor Michelle had actually thought someone would take it seriously.

"It's been a good night. Thanks for doing so much of the planning for us."

"You're welcome." She met his eyes. "You both had a lot on your mind, what with work and building your new house. I thought you deserved a way to relax and celebrate."

Silence fell between them as they both watched Michelle. At the beginning, he might have mistaken Renee's expression for one of envy or longing, but he now knew undoubtedly it was an expression of genuine joy. Renee cared about Michelle so much.

"She looks happy," Renee mused.

"Yeah," he agreed before turning to her. "She wouldn't have gotten to this point without you, Renee. I know I've said this, but thank you for being there for her when I couldn't. And thank you for still being in her life even though I know it probably hurts for you to see her… with somebody else."

Renee tilted her head sweetly. "Of course. It might have bee hard at the beginning, but… she's happy. That's what we both want, right? I'm glad you've made things work. You deserved another chance together." 

Michelle was now holding Teri, and Tony was very aware of how her face had lit up. She then whispered something to Teri, which made her giggle in a way that melted his heart.

"I hope you and Michelle can make that work, too," Renee said, subtly motioning with her head. That was their next step, they hoped. They had both agreed that they were in a stable enough position, both in terms of not being in danger anymore and emotionally, to try to start a family. Their hours at the CIA were very manageable, and Saul had assured them they wouldn't be sent into the field, not after the service they had provided to their country.

Before he could say anything, Kim came up to them. She looked at Renee, and then at him knowingly.

"I thought I'd let you steal my father back, Renee," Kim said with a smile.

That was another thing that had blossomed over the last year or so. It had started with Jack being the one to do a lot of the debriefing at the FBI and CIA, as well as consulting on the reconstruction of CTU. Then, Renee had started calling him in for more and more minor things that he probably didn't need to be there for. One thing had led to another, and it hadn't taken long for both him and Michelle to click, even individually, that he and Renee were spending a lot of time together. But when they had collated their observations, it had become crystal clear. They were both very happy for them, especially Jack after everything he had been through, too. Renee had been nervous about overstepping boundaries with Kim and not wanting to feel like she was replacing her mother, but Kim seemed to like the two of them together more than anyone.

The song had changed now. He wanted to dance with Michelle again, so that felt like a good time for them to him and Renee to part. Little Teri had gone back to her dad. Tony caught a glimpse of Rebecca practically sitting in Larry's lap, nuzzling his neck. He and Michelle — the entire CIA and FBI, really — had been betting on whether they would actually get together after both had shown clear signs of being interested in the other, but never saying so. Apparently the wedding had been enough of a motivation to think about love, or maybe they had both just had a little too much champagne.

Tony went over to Michelle. He nuzzled her nose, and their lips met for a kiss.

"Hey," she said softly. She was already tearing up again, like she had when she had read her vows, and he had read his.

Tony snaked his arms around her waist and she rested her head against his chest as they swayed to the beat. She wiped away one of his tears, too. If someone had told him all those years ago that he would be doing this again with her, he would have thought they were crazy. But it wasn't an unreachable fantasy: it was real. They were together again, and, more importantly, she was happy. They both were.

"I have something to tell you," Michelle said quietly, biting her lip.

He furrowed his brow. "What?"

"You know how I was running a little late this morning to get dressed? I went to the store to get something?"

Tony nodded. Her sudden need to duck out this morning had made him fear she was getting cold feet, despite her multiple claims to the contrary. She had been nervous all day, and so had he, something that did make a little sense. It hadn't been in a bad way, just a combination of excitement and jitters. Still, even now that the big part of the day was over, that expression was there on her face.

Michelle lowered her voice. "I took a test. I'm pregnant."

His eyebrows rose. "For real?"

She nodded, and he laughed through his nose. 

"That's great. I… that is great, right?"

"Yes." Michelle couldn't contain her smile. "We're having a baby. A little sooner than expected, but…"

He shook his head. "I didn't think anything could make me happier today, but you've just proven me wrong," he said fondly.

"Me, too," she agreed, before her voice started to waver. "I… I'm so glad we're here together. I'm glad we didn't give up on each other."

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "So am I."

"I love you so much," Michelle whispered.

Tony met her eyes. "I love you, too."

You've reached ending #11 out of 13. Try a different combination of choices to see what happens!

Michelle tried to control her breathing as she knocked on Renee's open office door. Today would be one of Michelle's last days at the FBI, since she should be working at the CIA from here on out. She had basically been trapped at either agency in case any of Emerson's associates or other enemies from that day wanted to go after her.

Renee reacted to her presence immediately. There was still a slight stagger to Michelle's walk, but she was at least on her feet. Even though she still needed to take breaks to rest her body, usually siting down was enough.

"Hey…" Renee said, looking slightly dumbfounded. "How… how are you feeling?"

She nodded. "I'm okay. Still can't sleep on my side, but we'll get there."

Renee smiled a little. "That's good to hear."

"And how are you?"

She bit her lip. Renee was cute when she was nervous, and it made the corners of Michelle's lips upturn. "I'm… I'm okay. Just, uh…" She shook her head. "Did you need anything? Or–"

"I'd like to talk, if you're not busy?" Michelle asked calmly.

"Sure." Renee seemed even more anxious now. "Shut the door?"

Michelle did so, then took a seat across from her at the desk. Renee was searching her face, but Michelle was intentionally keeping it steady. She was probably going to cry, but she just prayed it would be from joy, not from sadness. The latter would come later.

She took a breath before saying, "Yes."

Renee furrowed her brow, and Michelle reached out so she could take Renee's hands in hers.

"A year ago, you said you wanted to marry me, and now I'm saying yes," Michelle clarified.

She shook her head. "Michelle, you and Tony can get through this. It might take time, but you love each other so much. It'll be okay."

Michelle shook her head. "I know it seems sudden for me to be deciding this, but the truth is I've been thinking about it ever since I found out he was alive. Even though it was a relief to know that ultimately he's still the same in his heart, I can't look past what he's done. Things will never be the same between us again. Too much has happened to us. We've been torn apart one time too many, and no matter how hard we try, we're never going to have the kind of relationship we wanted. We're never going to move forward, not completely. We're not getting any younger, either. I cherish what we had, while it lasted, but we need different things now, and I've accepted that." She exhaled. "Obviously… obviously, we still have some things to talk about, too. But I believe we'll be able to move past them. I love you so much, and you make me so happy, Renee. I want to be your wife. If… if you'll still have me?"

Michelle was too occupied by her racing thoughts and voice to notice the smile slowly creeping across Renee's face.

"I… I'm so sorry for letting this case control our lives and rob us of happiness when all this job reminds us every day is how precious life is and that we should appreciate it. But I want to spend every second making it up to you. I want to be with you, Renee."

"I want to be with you, too, Michelle." She sniffled. "I just… I wasn't expecting this. As soon as we found out Tony was alive, I thought we were really over."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry for the way I ended things between us. I-It was abrupt and disrespectful, and you didn't deserve that."

"It's okay. I… I understand now more than ever why you had to do that," Renee assured.

Their eyes met, both equally teary, and Michelle pulled her in for a kiss. She could smell Renee's perfume, and it was so familiar, so right to be doing this with her again. It hit her just how much comfort and safety she found in Renee's arms. The kisses they had shared on that day, although rooted in urgency and the fear of losing each other, had been real. But this made her feel electrified and reaffirmed her decision. She hadn't lost her. She was here, and she was saying yes. They had made it through this.

When they eventually parted, Michelle pressed her forehead against hers, her eyes closed, grounding herself in this moment.

"I love you," Renee said softly.

"I love you, too," Michelle replied, no longer fighting back her tears. As her eyes opened, she grazed the scar on Renee's neck with her thumb. "My knight in shining armour."

Renee covered Michelle's hand with her own, meeting her gaze. "I wish I had the ring here, but it's in my underwear drawer at home. Maybe… maybe I could give it to you over dinner?" she suggested.

"I'd like that," Michelle agreed.

As nice as this moment was, there was still an unspoken question between them. It dampened the relief she was feeling from this conversation having gone so well, but she tried not to let it fade completely. In any case, it had to be done.

"Have you… spoken to Tony yet?" Renee asked as though reading her mind.

Michelle's face fell a little as she shook her head. "Not yet. That was my next stop."

Renee nodded, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You should probably do that then."

"Yeah," she agreed quietly, giving her another soft kiss before standing and walking towards the door.

"Good luck," Renee called as she touched the handle. "But from what I've seen, you won't need it. He'll understand. I… I know the thing he cares about most of all is your happiness."

Her words were earnest, not pitiful, and she could only hope that they would prove true. She thanked Renee, then started heading towards the holding cell, taking a few deep breaths. Although Tony had signed his papers from the president, with all the people they had in custody, it was taking time to get him set up, and they had decided he would be safer at the FBI for the time being. Plus, they were still getting intel from him about Wilson.

He looked up at her with surprise, and before she could say anything, she crossed the room so she was standing on the same side of the desk as him. He took the hint and stood up, so she could hug him, feeling a lump build in her throat. Tony hugged her back.

She kept trying to speak, hating her cowardice as nothing came out, tears pricking her eyes again, but she finally decided to pull back, cupping Tony's face and noticing that he already seemed to have resignation in his eyes.

"You're getting back together with Renee, aren't you?" he concluded with a nod. "I can see it on your face."

"Yes," Michelle confirmed, her voice a whisper. "It's... it's not that I don't love you–"

"Michelle…" Tony said softly, wiping her tears away, even though his eyes were bright. "This job is always going to haunt us. I know that now more than ever, and that's okay. We've evolved into two very different people, and I know we're never going to see eye-to-eye again. We won't be happy if we're together, not anymore." He took a breath. "But I know that Renee loves you and cares about you so much, and that you feel the same way about her, and I want you to understand how happy that makes me. She's good to you. As soon as I realised how she had been there for you while we were apart, I knew it wasn't my place to try to be that person for you anymore. We had a good run, you and I. And now it's time for you to move on."

She sniffled. Michelle had to agree with his words, but it was still hard to accept that what they had was coming to an end. Although Michelle dearly hoped they could stay friends, she would understand if Tony wanted space for a while. They would both have to mourn a little, even as they both entered new beginnings.

"Thank you for everything. You gave me some of the best years of my life, and I will never forget them." She placed her hands on his shoulders. "We'll need some time, I know, but... I still want you in my life. We're still going to be working together, and I'm still going to be supporting you."

He nodded. She expected him to seem somewhat awkward or less keen about that now, but he didn't seem fazed at all.

"We've worked so well together in the past," he reminded her. "We can certainly keep doing that. I wanted to come back to the CIA to redeem myself. It wasn't conditional on what you decided. I don't want you to have to worry about me."

That gave her some assurance, but really, him taking that offer had been enough of a sign that, at his core, he was the same man she had loved for all this time, loyal and caring to the people he loved.

"It took guts to take that offer," she pointed out. "So I hope you know that. But I also hope you know how much it means to me."

He seemed very affected by that, but it just proved that this wasn't about her choosing Renee over him: it was about honouring what she had had with both of them and remaining loyal, just expressing it differently from now on.

"I'm going to have your back, too," he said. "I'm never going to stop caring about you because you matter to me, and I love you. If you still want me in your life, then of course I want you in mine. I'm always going to be there for you, even if it's a little different now."

Michelle hugged him again with a long sigh. "Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me. I… I care about you, too."

They held each other for a while, their tears silent. It was the knock of a guard on the door that made them part. Michelle stood on the balls of her feet to kiss him on the cheek, giving him one last smile before walking out of the holding cell. She walked back to her office, feeling that something in her had lightened now. She could finally move forward. Those past few days had been some of the longest of her life, but really, she had been thinking about this decision ever since she found out Tony was alive.

Michelle in at the chair behind her desk, clasping her hands and letting out a breath.

She had made her choice.

The light reflected off the diamond so brightly that Michelle genuinely thought it might distract her from the road ahead. Of course, it wasn't about how beautiful her engagement ring was; it was about the way her heart fluttered as she thought of the moment it had been slid onto her finger — particularly since the person she had shared that moment with was right beside her.

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend, huh?" Renee commented.

Michelle glanced at her with a knowing smile.

"So, we're still doing this bet?" Renee then asked.

"Oh, absolutely. It'll help us arrange seating at the wedding."

Renee had proposed last night, but they hadn't announced it to anyone except Renee's family. They planned to tell Michelle's when they made the trip to see them and also inform them she was alive. They had a small wager going on for a spa voucher they had won at a charity auction based on who correctly predicted the first person to notice the ring. This only worked because both of them were at the CIA today, otherwise Renee would have been certain Janis would have picked up on it first, and she probably would have been right. But Michelle was betting on Rebecca, based on Rebecca usually being the first person they usually saw when she came into work, while Renee was betting on Tony, for more obvious reasons. Now that he had adjusted to working at the CIA, with Michelle's support, of course, and taken the time to heal from their split, amiable as it might have been, she and Renee were coming to welcome having him as a friend in their lives.

Renee laughed. "What? Whoever notices the ring first gets to be closer to the main table?"

"Something like that. But I also want that massage."

"In your dreams, Dessler," she quipped, parking the car.

They tried to act nonchalant as they walked into the CIA but frankly, Michelle still couldn't wipe the smile off her face, and Renee was still riding the high of the excitement of her career change. The liaison position already seemed to be a good fit for her, and Saul seemed to like having her on board, too. Everything really had worked out. The people she loved were happy and within reach. Bygones were becoming bygones.

Everyone filed into the boardroom, including Rebecca and Tony. Michelle kept giving Renee glances, particularly as they sat opposite each other. If neither Rebecca nor Tony piped up soon, she would question their capabilities as CIA agents.

But just as Saul went to command the room, Rebecca gasped, grabbing Michelle's hand and then looking between her and Renee. "Oh my God. When?"

Around the same time, Tony gestured to her ring from across the table and exclaimed, "Christ, you'll put an eye out with that."

That obviously got the rest of the boardroom chattering, but Michelle still couldn't determine who had spoken first, and neither had Renee, based on the amused yet confused expression she had when their gazes met.

"Ah, congratulations," Saul said with a smile. "The taxpayers of America should be glad to know their money is going on… what is that, a whole carat?" He snickered, as did a few others. "I'm kidding. You both work hard. You deserve it."

"Hang on, you would have seen it, right?" Renee asked, looking at Saul. "Who noticed first: Rebecca or Tony?"

She said it with such enthusiasm that Saul cocked a brow at both of them. "And this is important because...?"

Michelle bit her lip as she met Saul's gaze.

"Alright, now I'm afraid. Genuinely, I think it happened simultaneously. Do with that what you will."

Renee looked at her with a grin. "I guess it'll be a spa day for two."

Eighteen Months Later

Renee had called Tony to let him know she was coming past, so he wasn't surprised when he opened the door and invited her in, even though he didn't really know why she was here. It was pleasantly convenient that he happened to live so close to her and Michelle. She still had a lot of gratitude for and respect towards him for being so nice to her, and to Michelle, even though many people in his position probably wouldn't be. No matter how much it had understandably hurt, initially, he had been more than willing to accept Michelle's plea that he stay in her life. They still worked in the same office anyway, so really, it was hard for him not to be in her life somehow. And, to her own surprise, Renee hadn't been jealous or insecure about it. Michelle and Tony might have a history, but they could still be friends. 

Tony cared about Michelle the same way she did. Renee couldn't argue with that.

She was also aware that the healing Tony had done, bringing him back from cold and angry fugitive to loyal and empathetic CIA consultant, couldn't have been possible without Michelle's support. She really did bring out the best in people. It was why Renee was here at Tony's house, alone, because with her and Michelle's wedding coming up soon, she now had an idea for a way to honour that. Renee had mentioned it off-handedly around Michelle, who had seemed pleased by it, but too nervous to actually make it happen. So, Renee figured, she could make it a little easier.

"What did you want to ask me about?"

Tony seemed a little confused. Renee had been deliberately vague over the phone, but it was really because she hadn't wanted to ask him something so personal without being able to read his facial expressions and make sure that if he did say yes, it was genuine.

"It's about the wedding," Renee started. "I… I thought of an idea. I sort of asked Michelle about it non-committally, and I think it would mean a lot to her. But I don't think she'd like it if you were doing it out of pity."

He shrugged. "Shoot."

"How…" She bit her lip. "How would you like to walk Michelle down the aisle?" She quickly held up her hands. "Not in a gross, sexist, she was yours and now she's mine way. More of an… honouring the past and moving forward way."

Tony contemplated it for a moment. The fact that he wasn't horribly offended was a relief. When she had first thought of the idea, it had sounded a little strange, but as she had considered it… she had realised it was actually quite sweet, given the circumstances.

"Obviously, you might want to ask your plus one if it's okay with her…" Renee added.

For the last six months, he had been seeing Rebecca, whom he had gotten closer to through his work at the CIA. Before that life-changing day, Renee had only known Rebecca by name, as one of the other higher-ups working on Michelle's case at the CIA. Rebecca was now overseeing the reinstatement of CTU headquarters in DC. Since CTU was a division of the CIA, and Tony had plenty of experience with running one of the biggest CTU offices in its heyday, the two of them had been working together quite closely. With both so passionate about rebuilding CTU, they had spent plenty of late nights reviewing old investigations and trying to adjust policies to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past. Michelle had been the one to figure out that they had both been seen in the same clothes from one day to the next enough times to not be coincidental, although with Renee liaising between the FBI and CIA, she had seen it, too. From what Renee knew, Rebecca had some demons in her past, just like Tony, and had lost her husband a number of years ago. People like that tended to find each other and help each other heal.

"I mean, I'll talk with Rebecca about it, but knowing her, she won't mind at all. I… I'd be honoured to do that."

Renee smiled. "Great. I'll let Michelle know. I'm sure she'll be glad to hear it."

She could tell Tony really did like the idea, and that he wasn't just doing it to make Michelle happy. It wasn't in a desperate yearning way; it was simply something that felt right.

"I'm really happy for you both," Tony said genuinely, after a beat. "I'm glad you two were able to work through what happened with the case."

He had said this more than once over the last year and a half, but Renee knew he really did mean it.

"And we're both happy for you, Tony," she returned.

Renee's phone buzzed in her pocket. There was a text from Michelle.

all good?

They had an appointment with an IVF specialist relatively soon, so she should probably be getting home. Renee replied that she would be there in five.

"I've got to run, but thank you for agreeing to this," Renee said appreciatively.

"No worries. Thanks for suggesting it." He smiled, leading her back to the door. "Tell Michelle I'm looking forward to it."

"I will." 

She made it home and Michelle seemed to just be getting off the phone.

"Hey, sorry about that. Just let me freshen up and we'll go," Renee said.

Michelle nodded. "I double-checked with the venue: they don't have an issue with Audrey bringing her service dog, so we'll call Jack and let him know it's all good," she informed her. "We'll just have to remind them to keep the music at a suitable volume, but that's probably for the best for little Teri, too, anyway." 

"That's great, I'm glad."

That was another thing that had happened since she and Michelle had gotten back together: Jack mustering the courage to reach out to Senator Heller and ask him to be in Audrey's life again. It had helped that Jack had commendations from the president and CIA behind him, and that he was no longer doing any fieldwork. Heller had taken some convincing, but it had ultimately been the look on Audrey's face when Jack had walked into the room that had done it for him. Michelle had had to give some context to Renee for what had happened between them, but if it was one thing she had known, it was that Jack had been through a lot, so to see him happy was quite a rarity.

Renee took a moment to change from her work clothes into something more comfortable and respray her perfume, before locking up and getting in the car where Michelle was waiting.

"I always like that one on you," Michelle mused as she took off.

She chuckled. "Well, you buy me a new bottle every time I run out, so I'd be surprised if you didn't." 

"You nervous?"

"A little. I mean, I'm excited, but I'm still…" Renee sighed. "Nervous."

Michelle hummed in understanding. "Me, too."

"I have to say, it's a shame that this is just a matter of biology because, at our rate, we'd have like... a whole herd of kids between us by now."

That made Michelle snicker, the smile on her face priceless. In the silence that followed, Renee recalled why she had been a little late.

"I stopped by Tony's on my way home before."

Michelle furrowed her brow.

"I asked him if he wants to walk you down the aisle. He said he'd be honoured."

Her mouth fell open, and she gave her a double-take, before keeping her eyes on the road. "I– Really? You're sure he's not just doing it?–"

"Nope, I saw the way he reacted. He wants to do it."

Michelle's reaction made her heart melt. "I… Thank you for asking him. I don't know if I would have had the courage to do it myself."

"You're welcome." Renee's eyes then crinkled. "I can't believe you're going to be my wife in a few weeks," she said. "We've been planning this for so long, but… it's actually really close now."

Michelle reached out to rest her hand on Renee's thigh. Renee squeezed it.

"And you're going to be mine," Michelle added warmly. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

You've reached ending #12 out of 13. Try a different combination of choices to see what happens!

It had been almost a week now. Michelle hadn't spoken to him or Renee, either, Tony assumed. Tony figured she was thinking long and hard about what she wanted. Michelle could only make the choice that was best for her. She could only listen to her heart. Tony recognised how hard that must be. The road less travelled would always be at the back of her mind, but she would have to find a way to not let it stop her from living the rest of her life. He hoped that regardless of whether Michelle wanted to be with him, or Renee, the other person could push through their pain and still be there in her life, even if it hurt. Michelle deserved that. Tony knew that if Michelle were to come to him and tell him she wanted to try again, he would say yes in a heartbeat, and Tony hoped that if she told Renee the same thing, that she would say yes to her, too. It might be hard, living in the shadows of Michelle's memories of Renee, and vice versa, but Tony wouldn't let that make him jealous or resentful, not when he cared about her happiness above all else.

But, at this point, Michelle hadn't made up her mind, so maybe she needed some help.

Tony had done some thinking, too, mainly about the consequences of his choice. Despite all odds, he was being reactivated as a CIA agent. Baseline clearance. Nowhere near what he used to have, but he wouldn't be petty about it; the alternative was worse. By working for the CIA, he could redeem himself. He did fear backlash and mistreatment, but ultimately trusted that Michelle and Saul had his back. He and Michelle had already worked together after all, and he was sure Saul would agree they had managed the crisis pretty damn effectively from their end. Tony was also giving the CIA any intel he had, as was Bill, who was still recovering from his injuries in the burns unit, via Karen, and Chloe, who would be consulting on the re-establishment of CTU. The FBI was also going to provide protective security for them; there were still a few people who might not be so happy about the attacks they had stopped. But, by the sounds of it, things would be okay. It was going to take some getting used to, working on this side of the law again, but he was going to try. He owed it to Michelle, and to Jack, for vouching for him.

As he walked up to Janis's desk, she greeted him with a bewildered look. Her complete lack of poker face reminded him very much of Chloe. He leaned against the barrier of the cubicle.

"Uh, can I help you?" She didn't sound offended, merely very confused.

"You and Renee are close, right?"

Janis still looked very sceptical. "Yeah… we are. Why?"

"Do you know if she's working tomorrow night?" That would be the day he had the keys to his new place.

"She doesn't usually. Let me check…" Janis opened up a spreadsheet and scrolled to the bottom where Renee's shifts were listed for the upcoming week. "Nope. She'll only be called in if it's urgent. I'd like to think we won't have any more terrorist attacks in the next few days, but…" She knocked on the desk before uttering, "Never say never."

Tony laughed through his nose. "Yeah, you got that right," he muttered. "Would you be able to give me her address? I, uh, I need to talk to her, and I'm not going to be around here for much longer."

Janis didn't seem to have any objections to that, thankfully, and when she passed him the scrawled sticky note, he recognised the name of the street. It wasn't far from where he would be living now. He was willing to bet it wasn't too far from Michelle, either.

"Thanks for that."

"No worries. Oh, and..." Tony stopped in his tracks as he went to move away, looking back at her. "Since I'm guessing you're going to be talking to Renee about Michelle, I'd recommend beer if you want to ease the tension, not wine. Renee gets giggly with wine."

Tony remembered, with a pang of fondness, that Michelle used to get like that when she drank wine, too. Either that, or she would just fall asleep, usually on his lap while they watched a movie. It came to mind so easily it actually hurt. Obviously, he hadn't done a good job of not showing it because Janis looked at him with concern. 

He shook his head a little. "Good to know," he said with a slight smile. "Thanks again."

"Good luck," Janis replied. "I know it won't be an easy conversation, but I think given that you both care about Michelle, I'm sure you'll be able to see eye-to-eye on that, at least."

The next day, he found that the house they had given him was a surprisingly decent-sized three-bedroom in a quiet neighbourhood. Popular with Feds, he could tell. That would have put him at ease once upon a time, but it didn't quite feel that way now. It was scarcely furnished, and it felt strange to be doing something as domestic as buying groceries and bedding. Tony was also very aware of his loneliness. He had to remind himself that he was buying food for one person, not two. He also read through some of the onboarding papers for his consultancy. There was a lot of familiarity about it, and he appreciated that he wouldn't be sent into the field — Michelle wouldn't be, either, presumably. His first task would be going through everything related to the conspiracy, something he already felt he had garnered enough respect for. He would be working with Michelle and Saul, and seeing that information convinced him to stop procrastinating and go talk to Renee.

He was incredibly nervous as he stood outside her door. The afternoon sun was warm on his back, but he knew he would be sweating bullets even if it was the middle of winter. Renee opened the door with a surprised look on her face. 

"Hey…" Tony greeted awkwardly. "Can we talk?"

"About?"

"Michelle."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Should I be concerned by the fact that she's not here?"

"She hasn't spoken to me, if that's what you're getting at. And I'm guessing she hasn't spoken to you, either?"

She sighed, looking away. "No. She hasn't." She bit her lip. "Come in. We'll talk."

He wiped his feet and held up the six-pack of beers. "Where do you want these?"

"Just on the table there is fine." Renee motioned with her head. "I'll get the bottle opener."

Renee went into her kitchen as he took a seat. When she came back, she opened one bottle and held it out to him, but he stopped her.

"Not for me. I don't drink anymore. I just, uh, didn't want to show up at your house empty-handed."

She nodded. "Do you want a Coke or something?"

"Yeah, that'd be great." 

Renee went back to the fridge. As Tony took a cursory glance at her house, he pushed down thoughts of Michelle being here and this place probably being like home to her. Renee returned to her seat and passed him the can. He thanked her quietly, and a beat of silence followed as they each took a few sips.

Finally, Tony mustered his courage to speak, beginning with, "We might have our differences, but if there's one thing we can agree on, it's that we want Michelle to be happy, right?" 

"Right," she confirmed.

"Now, if it were up to me…" He sighed. "I think she would do just fine getting back together with you. She deserves someone like you. I can see how you've been there for her and I'm so grateful. But I know that our history is always going to get in the way of that. It's not fair. If I could disappear and erase those memories from her life so she could have a fresh start and move forward, I would," he confessed. "And I know that even if she wanted to get back together with me, I would never be enough for her. As much as I would like to be hopeful and say that we're capable of working through everything, it'll take a long time, and it'll be exhausting. It's not fair. She's had two relationships, two good relationships, and now she's stuck having to choose. I don't know what I would do in her position, and I'm sure you don't, either." He looked up from where he had his hands clasped. "So maybe she doesn't have to choose."

Renee squinted slightly, as if to say go on.

"What if she could just spend time with both of us? There would be some boundaries that the three of us agree on, but, ultimately, it would mean we could both be there for her in whatever way she needs us to be, with no strings attached or expectations. Maybe it'll help her make a decision one day, but we wouldn't pressure her to." He took a breath, trying not to ramble so rapidly, especially seeing that Renee looked deep in thought. "I… I know it means serious things like marriage and kids become a little more complicated, but I just think… we both want to be there for her, so why not, well, both be there for her?"

"Like an open relationship?" she concluded.

He tipped his head in confirmation. "Yeah."

Renee seemed to contemplate that for a moment, but eventually agreed with a nod. "I think that could work. I mean, it depends on what Michelle thinks, obviously, but I can see the appeal in it. There'll be some trial and error, but you're right: we just want her to be happy, and this seems like the fairest way to try to make that happen."

"I'm glad you agree," Tony said with a small smile.

"When do you want to talk about this with her?"

He lifted a shoulder. "As soon as you want to. I can't stand the thought of Michelle spiralling anymore."

"What about now? I could call her and tell her to come over."

His eyebrows rose. He hadn't quite been expecting that, and it made all the nerves that had just started to ease upon seeing Renee on board with his idea return. But why wait? They were both here, and there was no current national security crisis, so they should probably take advantage of that. Still, as he went to speak, no words came out. He was suddenly struck with panic, wondering whether Michelle might not like the idea, and whether he would just be holding her back more. Renee didn't seem to be going along with it out of pity, he reminded himself. If Renee really thought this wasn't a good idea for Michelle, she would have said so. What reason did he have not to believe her?

"Hey…" Renee said softly, snapping him out of his anxiety. "We can do this. We're both here. You said it yourself: she shouldn't have to keep thinking about this anymore. So let's help her out."

Tony exhaled, meeting her eyes. "Call her."

Renee watched anxiously as Michelle's car pulled up in her driveway. It was funny; she had kind of missed seeing it there. The time between Michelle agreeing to come over and her arriving had felt like the longest ten minutes of Renee's life, and she was sure, Tony's, too. Tony was still sitting with his hands clasped at her table, staring into space.

Renee turned to look at him, biting her lip. "She's here," she informed him quietly, and he nodded.

She moved to stand behind the door, ready to open it as the doorbell went off. Renee offered Michelle a soft smile, but her face fell slightly as she got a better look at Michelle. Michelle clearly hadn't slept in days, and given what she had had on her mind, on top of recovering from a hell of a day, it wasn't surprising. Michelle greeted her weakly, not quite able to look her in the eye.

Renee tried to keep her own voice level. "Come in, Michelle."

As soon as Michelle saw Tony sitting at the table, she froze, looking between them rapidly, like she couldn't bear to give either of them an iota more attention in fear of cementing her decision. Tony seemed a little stunned to see her, too, the assuring facade he had put up not so strong now.

Renee soon realised that even though she wasn't feeling any less worried than they were, she seemed to be the only one who could speak at this point.

"Just– Why don't I get you something to drink and then three of us can talk, Michelle?"

Michelle nodded like she didn't have a choice. "Okay."

Renee got her a can of vanilla Coke, her favourite, and then sat opposite Tony. Michelle was at the head of the small dining table, her lips pressed together.

"Tony and I have talked about some things," Renee started. "About you, and everything you've gone through."

"We both care about you, and love you so much. We want what's best for you," Tony went on. "And we agreed that it's not fair for you to have to make a decision like this."

Michelle furrowed her brow. "I don't… I don't understand."

Renee steeled her nerves. "We think we might have an idea. Something that can work for you in whatever way you want it to."

Michelle nodded slowly, apparently confused as to how such an idea could exist.

"What about an open relationship?"

Her eyebrows rose, but it didn't look like it was in disgust, just in surprise.

"It would mean…" Tony elaborated. "It would mean taking away some of the pressure of having to make such a huge decision and letting you live your life in the meantime. It would also let you talk to both of us and set your own boundaries as we work through things and you and Renee work through things. We're going to have to get used to working together again, and that's going to be its own adjustment, so hopefully, this will make it easier."

Michelle seemed to concur, albeit hesitantly. She was obviously very happy that Tony had taken the CIA's offer, despite knowing it would come with challenges. But they weren't even going to be able to appreciate the nostalgia of working together again if they didn't talk about this now. More than that, Renee was going to be liaising between the FBI and CIA, so it had to work for her, too. They couldn't work in harmony and be the damn good team they had the potential for if they couldn't find a way to sort out their personal business.

"There are going to be hard days, days when you and I need space from each other," Tony added. "And even though you're capable of dealing with those feelings alone, you shouldn't have to. Renee knows and understands what you've been through, so she'll be able to support you. More than that, you love each other and deserve to spend time together."

Michelle was still quite unsure.

"This is something we've agreed on together, Michelle," Renee emphasised. "Nobody is forcing the other to do anything they don't want."

She shook her head. "But this isn't a solution. It means putting our futures on hold because I'm not going to be committed to either of you."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Renee countered. "We want you to take whatever time you need. Nobody's going to be upset with you."

"You…" Michelle looked like she might cry. "You can't do this. You can't do something like this all for me. You say it's fine now, but what if one, two years down the road, you resent me for stopping you from things like having a family? Then… then I'll lose one, or both, of you, and I can't have that." Her voice broke slightly. "Just give me some more time. I'll figure it out." Even she didn't sound very convinced.

"But maybe this kind of scenario will help you decide if you do eventually want to just be in a relationship with one of us," Tony offered. "And if it doesn't, if it just makes you realise that you want to be with us both, then that's fine, too. One step at a time. For now, all we're saying is… we both want to be there for you, in our own time, in our own way."

This time, Michelle seemed more receptive to those words. Her face grew concentrated in thought.

"It might take a few tries to figure out the best boundaries for everyone, but with some patience and communication, I think this could work," Renee said, grabbing her hand. 

Tony grabbed the other. "Please, Michelle. We want to do this for you."

She nodded slowly, her eyes going between them again and Renee could only hope that it was clear just how much she meant to both of them. There was such fondness in Tony's gaze and it made Renee feel hopeful that this was going to work, because if Tony had as much care for Michelle that she did, then it had to be okay. They were going to be okay.

"Okay," Michelle decided. "I… if you're saying this is okay, then yes, I want to try this. I-I don't want to lose either of you, and this seems like a way to do that."

"You will never lose us," Renee said strongly.

"No matter what," Tony added.

Michelle squeezed both of their hands. "I love you both so much," she said, her voice heavy with emotion.

"We love you…" Renee met Tony's eyes.

"Too," he finished.

Two Years Later

As Michelle padded into the living room, wiping sleep from her eye, she was slightly confused as she found Tony and Renee sitting on the couch, apparently in deep discussion. It initially unnerved her, fuelling the tiny fear that still laid within her that they secretly resented their arrangement. She had gone for a nap after lunch, her heartburn having kept her up all night, and then her nausea coming in the morning to make it all worse. Neither of them had looked over at her, so they obviously didn't know she was there.

"We're already going to get them like a million teddy bears. Is it really that important that we get one with a jersey on it?"

Tony scoffed. "The jersey is the most important part!"

At this moment, Michelle also noticed that the TV was on, albeit muted, and had been switched to ESPN. So they were having this talk again. Michelle sighed with relief. Obviously, she had been loud enough because they both stopped and turned to look at her, their expressions softening.

"How are you feeling?" Renee asked.

Michelle nodded. "A little better."

"Do you want me to make you a tea or something?" Tony then offered.

"Maybe in a little while, thanks," she answered, coming to take a seat in the armchair across from the sofa. It took her a good moment to do so; she was only five months along, but she was huge compared to most other pregnant women at this stage, and understandably so.

Both Renee and Tony were looking at her expectantly, but also with a sense of fondness that made her heart flutter.

"You know most people have this argument over baptising their kids, right? Not baseball?" Michelle just said, trying to make them realise that their passion for this decision, while endearing, was... a little insane.

"Well, baptism would have been easier: both our families are Catholic," Renee pointed out, before muttering, "Although I don't think the Catholic Church — or any church — would approve of this situation."

Their menáge-a-trois really had been the best thing that had ever happened to her. At first, it had been a matter of her spending equal time with Renee and Tony, who each made her so happy in different ways. But over time, Renee and Tony had come to enjoy spending time with each other, too, to the point where the three of them had built a house and moved in together. It was unconventional, to say the least, and telling friends and family had come with a mixture of reactions, but really, given their situations, it made sense, and they were happy for them. They even had a set of matching wedding bands, not to mention the twin daughters on the way; one with each of her and Renee's eggs. She had been wrong to think that this would never last, that they could never be truly happy or would have to compensate somewhere. She was so glad she had given it a chance.

"You know, if you guys are that hung up about it, maybe they'll have to be Dodgers fans instead," Michelle suggested. "Or they can watch football, not baseball."

"Absolutely not. I won't have our kids be traitors," Tony said with apparent offence.

She rolled her eyes. "We're having twins. Can't one support the Cubs and the other support the Cardinals?"

Renee placed a hand to her chest. "You want to split up our family?"

"Alright, new idea: when the girls are old enough to crawl, you can stand on one side of the room with Cardinals merch," Michelle decided, pointing at Renee, then at Tony, "and you can stand on the other with Cubs merch. Wherever they go sets them for life, and neither of you can argue about it."

Renee and Tony looked at each other, thinking about it with enough ostensible earnest that made Michelle question how far their baseball devotion really went. But it obviously wasn't just about baseball. They were all so excited to be parents. Both Renee and Tony were actively involved in every step and had had a lot of discussions about the future. One thing they had realised over time was that they really were similar in some ways. They cared so much about her, about each other, and about their children. That passion was what made her love them both so much.

Michelle realised she could feel tears coming. Her pregnancy hormones sometimes meant crying over the littlest things, and when it was over something mildly sad or merely inconvenient, it was a little embarrassing, but when it was something nice... well, she embraced it.

"Oh, Michelle, we didn't mean to upset you," Renee said, having noticed.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Tony added.

Both of them soon came to her side, and only when she looked up did she reveal her smile. "I'm not crying because I'm upset." She placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "I'm crying because I'm grateful to have two baseball-obsessed idiots who love me so much."

Renee beamed, relieved. "Well, that's what your idiots are here for."

Tony kissed her cheek. "Let me make you that tea. You'll need it: the game starts soon and your idiots are going to need a peacemaker after."

Lord help her.

You've reached ending #13 out of 13. Assuming you found them in order, well done, and thank you for making your way through this fic! Otherwise, try a different combination of choices to see what happens!