Does he know the way I worship our love?

Tony walked into the conference room, noticing Michelle had left him a seat. As he looked around, he realised he could name almost eighty per cent of the people in the room. At this point, they'd been at the FBI head office in DC for about two months. It had been a lot to take in: a new house in a new city and a new workplace that managed to both be very similar and very different to what they were both used to from CTU. All the while still being newlyweds.

But it had been one of the best decisions of their lives.

Sure, DC offered more career opportunities for both of them, and the FBI was by no means a stress-free workplace, but, in comparison to CTU, they felt like they had much more stability. There were more restrictions and security, making both of them much more comfortable. It meant having a family, a routine, and a life outside of work was somewhat more achievable. Yes, there were still late-night call-ins, and yes, they still had to be reachable at all times in case of a national crisis, but the way things were done made it all a little less overwhelming. When things needed to be done on the ground, CTU was sent in, not them. Tony couldn't help but think of Jack, who had gone undercover around the same time he and Michelle had moved. If Tony had stayed, there was a good chance he would have been part of that operation, and he was glad he wasn't. He hadn't known the details, but it had involved a very ruthless drug cartel in Mexico.

The feeling of a fresh start certainly helped, too. And the people in the DC office generally seemed nice. Their superior, Agent Moss, ran a tight ship, and while his determination to abide by the rules at all times had irked Tony initially, seeing how much Michelle respected him and ultimately understanding that that was how the FBI worked had made Tony reevaluate his initial judgement. He was the one who had offered them both their jobs, after all. The salary and relocation packages weren't anything to complain about either. Michelle had also quickly become a friend and something of a mentor to one of the younger agents, Renee Walker, and he could see how much it meant to her to have someone look up to her like that. At the end of the day, if she was happy, then so was he.

As the last agent to enter shut the door, the chatter in the room died down. Larry cleared his throat. "As most of you know, we've been looking into a series of technology thefts over the past few months. Our working theory is that they'll be used for a large-scale attack, but we haven't pinpointed a particular group who may be responsible." The tone of Larry's voice then became more hopeful. "However, we have found one possible suspect whose previous crimes and capabilities make him highly likely to be a part of this."

"The target of this mission is David Emerson," Larry stated as the projector showed a picture of said man on the screen. "Former British army and SAS, his skills include urban warfare, sniping, hand-to-hand combat, and never getting convicted for his mercenary work." Larry went on to explain more about him, but Tony wasn't hearing him anymore. He felt like everything around him was far away, every sound muffled, his vision blurred, and the only thing he could focus on, the only thing that existed, was David Emerson.

The more Tony stared at the man, the more he felt like the picture was staring back at him, and the neutral expression on the man's face turned to an amused grin. Suddenly, Tony could hear someone directly in his ear, barely above a whisper. "Come to me, Tony." It said, and although Tony had never heard it before, he knew who this British voice belonged to. He looked around the room to see if anybody was speaking besides Larry, but they weren't, nor did anyone look like they were hearing that besides him. "Come to me, and I'll give you pleasure beyond your wildest imagination."

"Hey," Michelle whispered, resting her hand on his arm. "You alright?"

He blinked a few times, and for a split second, one that he would not process for a long time, he swore he could feel nothing but blind rage, almost hatred, for her because she'd interrupted his imaginings about Emerson. Tony then quickly nodded and returned his focus to reality, noticing that Larry kept looking at him.

"This will have to be a deep cover operation. If there's one thing we do know about Emerson, loyalty is very important to him. So we can't send someone inexperienced. We have to be very careful not to spook him." His face became very grave. "I don't need to spell out to you how critical it is for us to get a lead on this before it evolves beyond our control."

The screen changed to show a handful of agent profiles, including his.

"At the same time, we can't send someone with too much experience or reputation. If he can see our database – and we have to assume he can – he's going to vet anyone approaching him. Not only for the logistics of their background but also psychologically. Emerson will see right through people with long histories of service here, or anywhere for that matter." The profiles started to disappear off the screen. "But, with the right story… we can take advantage of the newcomers to the FBI. Which means that you're our best option, Almeida," Larry said, turning to him with an encouraging smile. 

He nodded slowly, having already guessed where he'd been going with this. When he glanced at Michelle, he noticed she looked concerned but was hiding it well.

"How will I get close to him?" He asked, hoping he didn't sound too eager, even though meeting Emerson felt like the most important thing in the world at the moment.

"We have a contact that'll vouch for you," Larry explained. Tony nodded. It seemed simple enough. "What's my story?"

"After leaving CTU, you and your wife were transferred to the FBI. She's adapting well, you... aren't."

Tony furrowed his brow. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what followed. "Go on."

"You don't like that she's better at the job than you are," Larry said, and it came out with less hesitation than Tony would have liked. "Your file – which we'll make sure Emerson will get his hands on – mentions a history of alcoholism. That's exactly what's going to happen. You'll start coming into work drunk and angry. That will go on for a while until the FBI will finally let you go. After that, you'll be the perfect example of a person Emerson recruits. Then we'll just wait for him to take the bait."

Tony took a deep breath. The story was a little confronting to think about, particularly the alcoholism. His family had a long history of it, and he kept that fact deeply private - even Michelle didn't know the full extent. It wasn't just out of shame but also out of fear that he would end up like them. Still, he could understand why Larry would want to use this as part of his cover since, unfortunately, it was very believable.

More than that… he didn't know how his life would be after he got back – assuming Emerson didn't kill him. Would they reset his record to how it had been before? Or maybe this wasn't a one-off. Maybe they'd use this story so he could permanently liaise with Emerson, meaning they could send him back under any time, and his reputation as an agent would remain discredited. He didn't sign up for this. Part of why he'd left CTU was to avoid being used for a mission like this. Yes, he wasn't stupid; he knew the FBI also did plenty of undercover work, but he'd hoped to be able to negotiate his way out of them due to his experience at a senior level. At the same time, he couldn't deny that getting to the bottom of these thefts was vital, something that he and Michelle wanted to help with. He also couldn't deny the very strong, almost disproportionate curiosity he had about Emerson. Getting close to him would satiate that. 

The meeting was dismissed, and Tony knew Michelle was upset. She didn't say much to him for the rest of the day, too scared to start what would likely end up in an emotional discussion. The voice also continued to speak to him, making it difficult for him to focus on his work. But, for some reason, it didn't seem to bother him as much as he thought. Rather, he was bothered by the fact that he couldn't be mentally present to listen to it. Only when they made it home, and Tony watched Michelle's mask drop to reveal her worry, did he allow himself to focus on something else, something he objectively knew was much more important.

"I… I know it's a lot to think about. I'm not exactly thrilled about it either." He said, shutting the door.

She lifted a shoulder. "Worrying about you being undercover is one thing. We've done that before. It's… it's the nature of your cover I don't like. You're going to have to throw your career away, and yes, I'm sure Larry will make sure everything is expunged later, but still." 

"We've got some time, so we'll keep talking about this." He reassured. "I-If you want, I can ask Larry to swap me out." As he said this, he felt that rage return, realising that it wasn't what he wanted at all. He couldn't lose this opportunity. Somehow, that was his number one priority.

Michelle shook her head. "No, he's right. It should be you, and getting close to Emerson will give us a great lead." She took a deep breath. "I just- I don't like this situation we have to create, the tension... Even if it's just pretend."

Tony smiled at her. "Don't worry, sweetheart. This will be over before you know it. It's not going to change anything between us. And besides..." He lowered his voice. "If we're going to fight, then we're going to have to make up eventually." He added.

She hummed in agreement, catching on to what he was hinting at and toying with the buttons on his shirt. "How about you start making it up to me now?"

"Sounds like a plan."

But as Michelle turned around and headed to the bedroom, Tony heard it again, that voice, for the first time, sounding angry, threatening almost. "Enjoy her while you can, Tony. While you're still a free man."

Michelle watched Tony exit the lift and walk into the FBI office. When she got a good look at him, she felt her breath catch in her throat. His head had been shaved, which made him seem a little rougher. While most agents usually didn't eat enough and lost weight on these missions because of all the stress, he seemed to have put on quite a bit of muscle. He was paler, but that could easily just be because he'd spent so much time in hiding. Of course, she'd expected his appearance might change slightly; that wasn't unusual for someone going undercover. But she could almost sense a change in him. The air around them was cold. Everything felt heavy. When he met her eyes, instead of seeing relief, recognition, some kind of sign that he was happy, he seemed indifferent, as if he'd looked straight past her, as if she was no more meaningful than anybody else in the office.

She must have looked visibly upset because Renee came up to her. "Everything okay?"

"Y-Yeah… yeah, it's fine."

Renee tilted her head with concern. "Did something happen with Tony? I thought Larry said the extraction went okay."

"He just walked past, and he… he didn't even look at me," Michelle said, her eyes still fixed on the closed door he'd disappeared into.

Renee paused in thought, biting her lip. "Maybe he's just upset because Emerson got away. He probably just needs some time to process it." She sighed. "I can't imagine how that would feel, all that time and energy undercover only for nothing to come of it."

Michelle nodded with an unconfident smile. "You're right. I shouldn't worry."

"How about you help me sort through the evidence the FBI brought back? It'll be a nice distraction while Larry debriefs him."

She agreed, following Renee to her office, finding that she couldn't help but continue to glance out into the bullpen, hoping that Tony would come out and look more like his old self. Several hours passed before he did, and admittedly Renee's distraction had somewhat helped. But to her dismay, Tony walked straight towards the end of the hall where the medical ward and showers were.

Larry came out too and met her and Renee in the office. He also had a look of concern on his face.

"Is he alright?" Michelle asked quietly.

He lifted a shoulder. "I think he's upset about the mission not going to plan. He gave us some great intel. I still think we're in a better place than we were previously. We found out Emerson is just moving the stolen tech from the real thief to whoever the buyer is. He's just an intermediary, and that intel was essential for us, but..." He sighed. "We didn't get him."

She looked down glumly.

"I really should have reached out to him that day," Larry said, looking very guilty. "Yes, that push got him alone with Emerson, but he took it much further than he needed to."

"It's not your fault," Michelle said, shaking her head. "He… he really got in his head towards the end. I couldn't even get through to him."

"I…" Larry sighed. "I feel like this is my fault. We shouldn't have sent him. And we shouldn't have used a cover story with such a personal touch."

She dismissed him again. "No. It was a good plan. And even though it wasn't entirely successful, it'll be good for his career." That was why she had ultimately agreed to it. Not just for the sake of getting Emerson but also because she knew it would line him up for a promotion and give him his first career win at the FBI. Had it been worth it, though? "I-It just… it went too far, but now that he's home, we can fix things."

Somehow, she doubted this. Other than the fact that he'd passed on an 'I love you' through Larry, what had happened the day he was kicked out of the FBI wouldn't be brushed over so quickly because he'd meant what he'd said and what he'd done. He'd gotten to his breaking point and resented her for it. She couldn't blame him. Not entirely, at least. But despite how much he'd hurt her, she'd missed him dearly, worried sick that he'd been killed and that their last interaction would have been the worst argument they'd ever had.

The fact was, though, he was alive and seemingly well. He was back. While things might not be the same again, they wouldn't give up on each other. She loved him, and he loved her. It would take some time, but they would get there.

"I'll go see him," Michelle said after a beat of silence. "Maybe he was just overwhelmed around too many people before and trying to keep it together."

Larry nodded. 

She made her way down the hall, feeling her chest tighten. Why was she nervous? He was her husband. And she'd gotten over what had happened. Right? She'd missed him so much. She should be teeming with excitement, not feeling a wave of dread wash over her. Was she being naive? Was he not going to be happy to see her? Should she be alone with him if he was volatile? She tried her hardest to shut her racing mind up as she peered around the corner of the dark locker room and called his name.

When he turned, the first thing she noticed was that he was definitely stronger than before, confirming her suspicions she'd had while he was clothed. Before he left, he'd wasted away from stress and drinking, so she was, in a way, glad to see that he'd bounced back. Her eyes widened as she saw what she first believed was a scar, but then quickly realised it was a red-ink tattoo in the shape of a pentagram just below his navel. She hadn't seen any occult or Satanic associations in Emerson's file, but perhaps this was some rite of passage for members of his crew. God, what had he done to him? He seemed to notice she was staring, glancing down at the mark and then back at her. She felt awful now. It wasn't nice of her to gawk at it like that.

"Tony…" Michelle said softly, prompting him to meet her eyes. Now, he looked a little more like her husband. She didn't want to startle him, so she slowly walked towards him, but thankfully, he didn't move away. There was still something distant there, and it made her eyes water. 

When she got nearer to him, she stopped, feeling utterly useless, unable to find the words to say. They hadn't left things very well when they'd parted. She hadn't heard his voice in three months now. Was he still mad at her?

Her mind started to spiral, but she gasped a little as Tony's arms fiercely wrapped around her, pulling her towards him. He was cold. Despite the smell of soap indicating that he'd just showered, he felt freezing. Usually, he was the one complaining she was cold when they cuddled.

"Hey," Michelle said reassuringly. "God, I've missed you so much."

To her worry, he said nothing, so she squeezed him back tighter to ground him. But no matter how much she tried to tell herself that he just needed some time to adjust, a part of her still had to wonder why she felt something was deeply wrong.

Tony wasn't completely sure how he felt about this. Of course, logistically, it made sense for Larry to prepare him, given he was his superior and all. But now Tony was starting to doubt whether he was really as content about Larry deciding his fate here as he had initially thought. He didn't think he was at this level of trust with him yet. And, frankly, the nature of the story was still bothering him, too. Despite his assurance to Michelle, he didn't want to pretend to be some abusive, jealous drunk. He understood that Emerson would want to see proof and that he wasn't the kind of person to just take someone at face value. But Tony just wished he could act like he was undercover when he was undercover. Not now, when it was too easy for the lines to blur.

Larry walked in with a laptop and some documents, greeting Tony tersely but politely and sitting across from him.

"Based on Emerson's profile and what we know about how he recruits his crew, I've come up with some questions he might ask you. We're going to give him access to information, but not too much to look like it's falsified or like he was meant to see it, so I would still expect a level of interrogation from him."

He nodded.

"Let's start with an easy one." Larry offered. "Why were you fired from the FBI?"

It felt strange to answer that, given that Larry would be the one 'firing' him when the time came. He really didn't like this. But he didn't want Larry to second-guess this mission. He had to see this through.

Tony cleared his throat, hardening his voice. "I was tired of being disrespected and treated like nothing by my superior." He looked up as he said that, meeting Larry's eyes with a hatred that was only half-pretend. "I told him where to shove it, and they kicked me out."

Larry kept his face neutral, but Tony was sure he didn't like that. In his defence, Larry had come up with this story. So, if he wasn't a fan of it, that was his problem.

"You're sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you showed up intoxicated to work every day for a week?"

He laughed derisively. "I'm surprised they noticed, given that they don't seem to give a shit about me. The FBI likes to play their favourites. And I wasn't one of them." The bitterness in his tone had come naturally to him, and he felt anger building up inside him seemingly out of nowhere.

"Alright, that's good. Then he's going to want to know details about your home situation." Larry explained, his tone more professional. "Because he'll know Michelle wouldn't just let you disappear. It needs to look like you've been fighting for a long time. So even though you'll be faking it here, you have to remember that when he asks you about her."

"Yeah. Got it." Tony said, feeling more than a little uncomfortable, even though he knew this was coming.

Larry cleared his throat, slightly changing the tone of his voice to indicate he was pretending to be Emerson. "Tell me about your wife."

"What about her?"

Despite the warning, Larry's following words still hit Tony like a brick to the face. "Are you sure you can trust her?"

He quirked a brow, and there was a slight, almost uncharacteristic, smarmy smile on Larry's face. "She's been working long hours without you, so you better keep an eye on her. I'm sure she's found someone to keep her satisfied while she's been criticising you." Larry started, not even sounding like himself. And where did that spot-on British accent come from? "I've been keeping an eye on her, and she seems awfully close to your boss. They meet up a lot. They're going to have to pick up your slack with you acting like this, so I'm sure they'll find a way to occupy themselves." Tony clenched his jaw. "You think all they do is talk? Things happen when you spend time with your boss more than your husband. Right now, he's probably got her bent over his desk like the pretty little slut she is."

Tony's eyes widened, and there was a tense silence. "What did you just say?"

"It's the classic boss and secretary situation. I'm sure you're not too surprised. She was bound to start whoring around after you pushed her away." Larry insisted, not sure why he had started being so aggressive. He had only meant to guilt-trip Tony about being an absent husband. When did he get all sexual about it? And why the hell did he put himself in there? Larry struggled to believe he'd come up with such a wrong scene to picture just to push Tony's buttons. He couldn't quite believe those words had left his lips; it had felt like someone else was speaking in his voice, and he had no control over it.

Angrier now, after the initial surprise, Tony got up, pushing the table that separated them aside and towering over his boss. "What the fuck did you just say about my wife?!" He asked again, his voice rife with fury as he grabbed Larry's collar.

Larry sighed, trying to look calm as he'd deliberately said those awful things and was just now dropping the act. "Almeida, you can't get hostile and defensive like this when he asks you a question. It'll just give him reason to suspect you're lying to him. He values loyalty, we know that, so he's going to try to catch you out, which means you can't afford to give him any doubt about you. Otherwise, he'll never let you close to him." He explained, trying not to show just how much Tony's violent reaction to his words had scared him; for a second, Larry thought he was about to get punched.

"That crossed a line," Tony said tersely as he released his grip, his whole body still trembling due to the tension in his muscles. "Don't talk that way about my wife again." He warned.

"I was trying to act like Emerson, you know that! Christ, I didn't actually mean it." Larry laughed nervously, aware that he, himself, didn't even know what had come over him as he was speaking. "You sure you're up for this?" He asked warily.

Tony let out a breath, eyes closed as he tried to regain his composure. "Yeah. It's fine. Let's try going over the earlier stuff again."

"That was nothing like me. I would never treat you like this." The voice in his head assured him, not for the first time. Tony had heard many utterances of that sentiment for the past hour and a half, and with every repetition, every assurance that he'd treat Tony with the utmost respect, Tony believed it more and more, and he couldn't help but resent Larry for putting him through something like that when it was completely unnecessary. 

"He's setting you up for failure. He just wants to humiliate you in front of your coworkers and your wife. How can you trust a man like him?"

And Tony realised that the only answer to that question was that he couldn't. Not completely. Not anymore.

After a painfully silent car ride, they finally pulled into their driveway. Michelle unlocked the back door and stepped inside the house, finding the light switch for the hallway. Tony quietly walked behind her. He didn't know what to say or how to act, worried that she was already upset and that he might make things worse. After putting her bag down and taking off her shoes, she sighed, turning around to look at him. Michelle pressed her lips together. She seemed very concerned for him. He realised his behaviour was definitely going to raise red flags now, given that he was home with her after three months apart, and he wasn't acting relieved or remotely happy in any way.

But he wasn't about to explain any of that now. Even if he had wanted to, he doubted he could explain to her how he'd been changed; there were no words to describe it. And even if there were, he doubted she'd be happy to hear about his gradual descent into a corruption of both body and soul.

As she went to try to find her words again, he crossed the length of the hall and cupped her cheeks in his hands, pressing his lips to hers. He tried to keep cool; he knew how to do this, how to serve, and was confident enough in his abilities to be sure it'd give her something to take her mind off all that was worrying her. It was not out of care about Michelle's peace of mind on Tony's part; no, he just needed her off his back, and if fucking her brains out was the price to pay, so be it.

Oblivious to his detached thoughts, Michelle kissed him back, sliding her hands around his waist to press his body to hers, still finding he was very cold. He walked them both back to the wall, and his movements became faster and more intense. His fingers deftly worked at the buttons of her shirt, his mouth slipped to kiss her neck, and his knee was pressed between her legs. She sighed, tipping her head back while lowering her hands to unbutton his jeans. Before she knew it, her bra had been tossed somewhere behind him, along with his shirt, and they had kicked both of their pants aside.

Tony picked her up, keeping her pressed against the wall and kissing her more desperately, letting this moment ground him and remind him of where he was, of who he had to pretend to be. She bit his lip a little, and although the feeling was nice, he recognised it felt very tender compared to what he'd gotten used to over these last few months. It wasn't enough for him anymore. The pressure increased, to his pleasure, but he quickly realised that something was off. Michelle's kisses had turned from gentle to hungry, her hands on him more demanding, and it sent a shiver down his spine because he knew that touch. 

He pulled back to confirm his suspicion. However, after blinking a few times at the blurred figure before him, he was met with Michelle's confused expression.

"Everything okay?" She whispered.

"Y-Yeah," Tony replied, quickly kissing her back to avoid letting her see the confusion on his face, and resumed his motions, but his mind was still stuck on what he thought he'd felt.

At first, he thought it had just been a figment of his imagination, but he soon understood that it was more present than he thought. It felt like a weird lucid dream he could control: if he reminded himself that what he was sure he was feeling on his skin wasn't possible, he'd see Michelle pinned on the wall, but if he allowed himself to accept it, in the blink of an eye she'd be gone, replaced by the familiar sight of David with that irritating grin on his face that Tony just wanted to kiss off of him. 

"I've missed you." The ever-changing figure in front of him said, and Tony heard both voices saying it, Michelle's with concern and a sadness that made it clear she knew he still wasn't completely back, and David's – his David – with the confidence of someone who knew they had the upper hand in a situation. The difference between the two was painfully obvious, and Tony knew who he'd rather spend that moment of intimacy with.

"I've missed you too. But I'm glad you're here now." Tony replied, and in his mind, there was no doubt about who he was talking to.

Feeling a strong sense of urgency to hide his true emotions, Tony lifted Michelle into his arms with a newfound ease. She quickly wrapped her legs around his waist and allowed him to carry her onto their couch. Michelle smirked as she straddled him, leaning down to suck at his neck.

Tony was lost in the feeling of it, but he still noticed when Michelle's slender hands shifted into more calloused ones, the grip on his flesh rougher, nails digging deep into him, giving him exactly what he was craving.

He felt David's nails claw at his skin, sharp enough to draw blood, and he bit his lip; it was taking all his willpower not to scream out his name.

"Again," Tony murmured almost giddily. "Hurt me again."

When he looked up, Michelle had freed him from his boxers and was slowly stroking him. He tipped his head back when she took him in her mouth whilst still keeping her hands busy, pointedly avoiding the scar. For a moment, the lips became more chapped, the tongue working in ways that no human's possibly could. He moaned in encouragement, but before he knew it, Michelle was back again, much to his disappointment.

It wasn't that she wasn't pleasing him well. She was doing just fine; there was just an intensity that she couldn't match. In fact, nobody could match. As he continued to think like that, she appeared for less and less time.

Tony blinked again, and all of a sudden, he couldn't feel Michelle's hair brushing against his skin anymore. The hands pinning his hips down were stronger, the brown eyes staring back at him had a hint of cruelty to them and were much darker than before, and he felt the rough scrape of a stubble against his skin. Tony smiled sincerely for the first time that day. He was back. As David started to grind against him roughly, almost using him, he sighed.

"You've been away from me for far too long, Tony," David said scoldingly.

"Choke me." He rasped.

Michelle reappeared with a furrow in her brow for a split second, halting her motion. "What?"

He met David's eyes. "Make me pay for it. I want to feel how angry you are at me for leaving you."

Michelle suddenly planted her palms on his shoulders, and her eyes widened with great concern. He looked back at her, confused and upset that she'd stopped him.

"God, where are you?" She asked emphatically.

At this moment, she knew that whatever he'd seen, whatever he'd done while undercover, had messed with him. Had he done something bad? Something so bad that he felt the need to be punished like this? Michelle knew he'd had trouble with feelings of guilt. He always had. That was part of the reason they'd taken this job: with the hope that the missions at the FBI wouldn't be quite so traumatic and ethically dubious compared with those at CTU.

He placed a hand on the nape of her neck, pulling her lips to his, but she moved away, grabbing her clothes off the floor and storming off to their bedroom. As soon as she slammed the door, she sank to the floor and burst into tears. She'd never felt this disconnected from him. She'd expressed concern, and he'd ignored it, which only made her worry more. His slightly docile, almost giddy expression replayed in her mind. He might have looked happy, but he hadn't looked present. He was unrecognisable to her. He'd done a blood test when he'd gotten back to the FBI, right? He couldn't be high. Then again, he'd spent such a long time undercover, so he'd probably used drinking to blend in. Or, maybe he'd done it to cope, no longer doing it as an act for his cover. She suddenly became riddled with guilt, doubting her actions from before. He'd been without her for so long, and she'd shut him out. What was she doing?

Quickly, she stood and opened the bedroom door, gasping a little as she found he was standing there. She could swear she hadn't heard footsteps. Before either of them could say anything, she hugged him again, apologising quietly.

"I didn't mean to do that." She sniffled. "You just seemed so far away, and I thought I was making you uncomfortable."

"Y-You didn't." He said unconvincingly, feeling at a loss for what to say. It wasn't supposed to have gone like this. She was supposed to be in a happy daze, not questioning whether he was okay. He couldn't give her any reason to suspect that he had changed. "It's just going to take some time to get used to being home, that's all." 

Michelle looked into his eyes searchingly."I- I just- I'm so glad you're back." She said after a beat, seemingly too emotional to try and pick his words apart.

"Me too." He mumbled, and Tony hated the fact that everything, from his words to the reassuring way he was smiling at her, was a lie.

It had been over a week now, and she still hadn't let him back in their bed. The line between the act that Larry was making him put on and his genuine resentment towards her had started to blur. They had to talk about it. She couldn't keep doing this to him when he didn't have any choice in acting like this. This was for work. She said she'd understand that when they first discussed this.

"Enough." He said, gritting his teeth. "You want to talk about it? Then we're fucking talking about it."

"We'll talk about it once the mission's over." She dismissed. But he could tell she wasn't satisfied with that arrangement.

"No." Tony grabbed her bicep so she could face him. "We might be pretending to be on the rocks at work, but once we get home, we're something else." 

Michelle took a good, hard look at him. "But I can't even tell the difference anymore. How am I supposed to know what's pretend and what isn't?" 

"It's all an act, alright?" He snapped. "You know I would never treat you like that!" 

He knew his hot-cold behaviour was confusing and conflicting, but he at least trusted her to know that he wasn't actually like this. Did she think he was for real?

"I don't care if it's an act. It feels real, and that's not okay!" Her eyes were wet with tears. She was genuinely upset, and instead of letting that make him realise he was taking this too far, that they should talk it through about how to step it back a bit, he let it fuel the anger he was so-called pretending to let drive him.

He went to hug her and hated that it somehow felt forced. Like he had to actually remind himself that she was his wife and he'd hurt her feelings. She pushed him away, shaking her head.

"I can't. I just- I know it's for the mission, but I can't sleep next to you right now."

Tony sighed. That scene kept playing in his mind, and he couldn't focus on anything else. On top of that, he couldn't shake the things Larry had said in that first session, and he still couldn't get over the fact that he had to hear this damn voice in his head at every turn, which only fueled his anger more.

"She's ungrateful, Tony." It emphasised. "You're putting your career on the line here, and she has the audacity to accuse you of mistreating her on purpose."

Even if he agreed with it, he was just too overwhelmed to do anything about it or rationally work through his feelings. Tony eyed the six-pack of beers in the fridge. His office was in disarray as part of his cover, as was his appearance. His hair was longer and greasier than he usually kept it, his facial hair far from the clean-shaven look he usually went with, something that made him hate himself whenever he looked into the mirror. The beers had been there for Larry to 'find' and report. But to hell with it. If he was supposed to be acting like an alcoholic, then why not make it real? He remembered there was a bottle opener in his drawer, again part of his cover.

Tony unscrewed the cap of one and took a generous swig. He didn't like drinking, never had, didn't do it for the taste of it. At that moment, he wasn't even doing it to solidify his cover. He just wanted to stop thinking for a while and stop worrying. He was determined to get drunk enough to ignore his feelings when he thought about how the FBI had decided to ruin him, doing exactly what he knew CTU would have done to him and Michelle if they hadn't left. Turns out you can't escape your destiny. One way or another, he was always going to have to be put in dangerous situations instead of staying in an office.

He drank it far too fast, given that he also hadn't had much to eat that day, but didn't stop himself from opening another, and another, until he started to wonder whether he should consider sneaking out to buy another pack. He'd hoped it would make him numb and silence the noise; instead, it only seemed to make the anger worse.

Tony stormed his way over to Michelle's office without really recalling the trip there. At this moment, he really wasn't sure whether it was the alcohol, the built-up frustration, or something else entirely because one month ago, he never would have believed it if someone had told him he'd physically lay a hand on his wife. There was a large thud, and, all of a sudden, his hand was around her neck. She was telling him to let go, but he couldn't hear it over the cacophony of voices and memories in his mind.

He was sure he'd never forget the look in her eyes when someone, likely Larry or a guard, pulled him back. She was terrified, but somehow, within her eyes, she still seemed concerned for him. Michelle was on the verge of tears, and there was a mark on her neck from where he'd grabbed her. He felt his stomach churn. Had he actually just done that? Hurt her? He… he hadn't been able to stop himself, and now… what had he done? More than that, what was to stop him from doing it again?

"Almeida, you're finished." Larry said, gritting his teeth. "Get the fuck out of here before I have someone escort you from the premises, or I'll kick you out myself."

Tony noticed Larry was standing between them almost protectively, his eyes flitting over to Michelle. He didn't know what it was, but something about the way Larry was acting made his blood boil. His mind replayed Larry's voice when he'd said he fucked Michelle on his desk when Tony wasn't there. It had just been roleplay, or so he'd said, but the fact that he'd chosen such a specific, plausible scenario to taunt him with had never sat right. He felt truly cheated now like this had all been some ploy so Larry could get close to Michelle.

"You know, if you wanted to fuck my wife, you could have thought of something smarter than sending me undercover." He found himself saying, the words coming out of his mouth as low as a growl.

"Tony." She said, full of disgust and shock, her voice still a little hoarse, like it hurt for her to talk. "That's enough. You don't need to keep doing this!-"

"Yeah, well, maybe I want to." He said, folding his arms. "Maybe not everything I do is part of this God-damned cover."

As he said those words, he watched the betrayal appear on Michelle's face. And he hated the fact that he really meant what he'd said. They were never going to recover from this now. Larry shook his head, looking him up and down like he'd made a huge mistake. Tony couldn't take it anymore. This was Larry's fault. All of it. Without hesitating, Tony drew his gun and pointed it at him. He didn't even register that he was so close to Michelle. He would risk hitting her if he fired. His breaths shuddered, and he felt himself seethe with rage. He wasn't sure he could even control his finger as it quivered around the safety.

Before he knew it, he'd been tackled to the ground by two guards, a jolt of electricity shooting through him as the taser made contact with his back. He fought against them, spouting some things that he wasn't even really sure if he believed. They dragged him half-conscious outside of the building, the sound of Larry barking orders and Michelle crying fading the further away he went.

After taking a moment to stand, he noticed the security guards outside were watching him like hawks. He still felt a little dizzy. Sculling multiple beers before probably didn't help with that. Tony was filled with spite, all of it now genuine. There was no act anymore. He'd been humiliated in front of every agent in the FBI, his wife didn't even trust him anymore, and worst of all, it hadn't even successfully gotten him close to Emerson. He'd been thinking about him non-stop, even to the point of hearing voices in his mind, but he didn't blame Emerson or the mission for this. No, he blamed Larry. 

Tony walked to a nearby bar that he'd discovered in his research for the mission, finding it thankfully quiet at this hour. He had to make this worth it. If Larry really did care about the mission, then he was going to update his file so Emerson could know about it. Tony worried that if he didn't get close to Emerson tonight, then it was truly over. All he'd done would have been for nothing. He would become the person he'd been pretending to be and have no reason to bring himself back to reality, no reminder of who he truly was, deep down.

He ordered a shot of whiskey, and he had to remind himself that this was still part of his cover. His phone buzzed on the bar. He saw it was Michelle's caller ID and ignored it. He'd upset her enough already, so what was he supposed to say? He wasn't just going to listen to her blast him about his behaviour. How could she judge him for something she didn't even understand? She'd never had to do this for a mission. More than that, if he was still supposed to be getting into a position where Emerson might try to approach him then he couldn't risk speaking to the FBI. They'd suspected Emerson might plant bugs to gauge whether he was trustworthy, so if he was listening, then he couldn't talk to Michelle over the phone.

She rang a few more times, each call coming with an additional notification of voicemail. She was probably worried sick about him. Tony was left with one text.

Please pick up. We need to talk. I'm worried about you.

Tony sighed angrily and drank the shot in front of him in one go, loving and hating the burning sensation down his throat. As he asked the bartender for another one, he briefly wondered if that was what he wanted, a calm, risk-free job away from any action or if this aversion from any field mission came from Michelle. He cursed at the thought. He loved her. He was sure of that, but he wasn't sure he loved what she wanted him to be, what she had made of him.

"Something on your mind?" A man asked. Tony wasn't sure when he had approached him. He hadn't seen him walk up to him. He just seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Tony dismissed that as something he hadn't noticed because he must have been more drunk than he realised. Apparently, he couldn't hold his alcohol as well after having been sober that long. 

Not in the mood to get chatty with a stranger, Tony didn't respond, rolling his eyes when he heard the chair squeak as the man sat next to him.

"Ah, the silent type." He said with an oddly fond tone as if they were old friends, and Tony was sure he was also smirking. Despite the annoyance, Tony had to admit the man's warm voice sounded kind rather than mocking, something about it that invited a conversation, and Tony hadn't been able to open up for so long. It was tempting, but as much as he would like to get this off his chest, he wasn't about to dump a month's worth of making himself incredibly unlikeable for a covert mission on a stranger.

His phone rang again. This time it was Larry. Frustrated, he declined the call and turned his phone off entirely, slamming it back on the counter.

"Well, it seems like you're obviously upset about something." The man insisted, turning to him with a confident smile that bordered on arrogance. "Is it anything I could help you take your mind off of? I can be a… pretty good distraction." He offered, very forward, but Tony didn't mind. Something about the man's voice was very familiar to him, and he didn't feel like a stranger to Tony, but rather someone he could safely open up to as if he had known him for years, but he was too drunk to put a finger on why. It was only when Tony finally turned his head that he realised who he was sitting next to.

"I'm David." The man introduced himself, but he didn't have to. Sitting in front of Tony was just the man he'd been trying to attract so much.

Emerson held out his hand, and Tony shook it with more strength than he needed to use, knowing the man Emerson thought him to be would surely feel like he had something to prove. But his brash confidence was short-lived; as soon as their skin made contact Tony felt something electric going through his whole body, leaving him stunned, and there it was, that voice again. "Welcome home." It said, in Emerson's voice, but Tony realised in horror that Emerson's lips hadn't moved, and the man was just grinning at him, amused.

"I'm-" He started introducing himself, hoping he'd been able to conceal the surprise at recognising him, but Emerson interrupted him. "Anthony J. Almeida." He finished with a proud smirk on his face. "Former Marine, former CTU, current FBI, and a brilliant yet highly undervalued agent, if you ask me."

"Yeah, my boss wouldn't agree with you all that much after today. And it's just Tony, by the way." Tony commented, smiling bitterly before he finished his drink in just one gulp, the alcohol burning down his throat, his body temperature rising as he was reminded of Larry's face as he had aimed his gun at him.

He shook his head, not wanting to think about that, then turned to Emerson again. "How do you know so much about me anyway?" He asked as if he didn't know, as if he and the whole FBI hadn't tried their hardest to make sure he'd get interested in him.

Emerson smiled at him, and the way his eyes roamed all over him made Tony's cheeks burn. He wanted to look away but found he couldn't; he was magnetised by Emerson's gaze. "You might not realise it, Tony, but you stand out. How could I not know about you?" He chuckled at Tony's expression. "I've been keeping an eye on you for a while now, and I thought it was time to finally introduce myself and make you an offer."

Trying to mask his burning excitement and relief that it had finally all been worth it, Tony nodded. "I'm listening."

"Let's just say that my line of work requires a level of secrecy. It isn't quite… above board." Something dark shone inside Emerson's eyes as he said that, and, somehow, it was tempting. He was tempting. Tony realised that even if this hadn't been the plan from the beginning, and this had been the first time he'd heard of Emerson, he still would have been interested.

"And I could use a man of your talent." Tony shivered at those words. There must have been something in his suggestive tone, or maybe Tony had drank too much, but the moment Emerson had said the word use, Tony's mind filled with images of what could be, the ways he could let Emerson use him. He tried to dismiss them, but they were overwhelmingly, violently intense.

Emerson hovered over him, one hand pressing on his throat, the other gripping his hip fiercely as he thrust into him relentlessly. Every stroke hit deeper, and Tony felt his eyes roll back into his head. He whimpered breathlessly, begging Emerson to keep going, and he obliged without hesitation. "You want more?"

"Please." Tony breathed.

"You're desperate, aren't you?" Emerson moved his hand and slid two of his fingers deep into Tony's mouth without warning but continued to choke him. Tony sucked on them obediently, eliciting a satisfied sigh from Emerson and making him push further into him "Anything for my partner." He purred, with a hint of degradation in his voice.

Tony could feel blood draw from the delicate skin on his neck as Emerson tightened his grip, almost gleefully. It took him a moment to register that the desperate, throaty moans were his. They sounded far away, his body so occupied by Emerson's touch, until his deep, raspy voice brought him back into the moment, grounding him. "You're mine." He commanded. "Say it."

"I'm yours." He promised, a shiver running down his spine as he realised the gravity of that moment. Emerson looked up to meet his eyes and grinned, and Tony's head fell back, eyes closed as he let himself be taken.

"This is where you belong, Tony. Right here under me."

That fantasy was more intense than anything Tony had ever experienced at the hands of Michelle and even Nina, but it didn't repel him. Instead, there was a part of Tony that wanted, no, needed to give into Emerson like that in every way possible. Nothing else was more important to him than being close to Emerson. 

"What do you say? Are you up for it?" Emerson's voice brought him back to reality, but there was something about his expression that felt off. It was as if he knew exactly what Tony had been thinking about. But that was impossible, wasn't it?

He took a deep breath. He had to get his mind out of the gutter and think about the case. He couldn't afford to fuck this up. Tony knew he was supposed to be friendly to establish a connection and gain Emerson's trust. But it didn't feel like a task to open up to the man in front of him who was looking at him with kind, understanding eyes, and the more they talked, the more Tony felt like they'd known each other for centuries.

"Yeah, I am." He said without hesitation.

Again, Tony had to forcefully remove the thought of Emerson fucking him six ways from Sunday, and he froze when Emerson chuckled. 

"Don't worry, I'm down for that too." He said, touching his shoulder before he walked off, and Tony could do nothing but get up and follow him.

Tony entered the shower and met her gaze. She looked into his eyes for a moment, seeing the same vacancy she had last night. She contemplated asking him to leave, but he pressed his lips to hers, and it was just too hard to resist when they'd been apart for so long. The more he kissed her, the more he seemed like his usual self, the more she recognised the way he was touching her. Tony moved his mouth down her body slowly, taking the time to kiss her neck, her shoulder, and between her breasts before casting a trail with his tongue down her stomach until he was kneeling before her.

When he peered up, Michelle saw a familiar raw expression of lust there, and she leaned back against the wall. Tony pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh, cupping the back of the other with his hand. He did it again and again, slowly, making each kiss intentional. His breaths were warm against her skin and made her shiver. Tony encouraged her to spread her legs by sliding his hands higher towards her butt.

The first stroke of his tongue was languid and intentional. It almost surprised her how much of her he was able to touch at once. He took his time to refamiliarise himself with her, spreading her wetness around as it formed. His stubble scraped against her labia, and she let out a muffled whimper at the sensitivity. The noise seemed to do something to him because he started to use more pressure, teasing her open with short probes. It was as though he were waiting for her to react, like he couldn't do anything until she confirmed what she wanted from him.

His lips covered her clit, and he started to suck, causing her knees to buckle a little, so she placed a hand on his scalp to support herself. It was hard to grab his hair since it was so short, so she ended up scratching his head and neck in an effort to keep him there. Even though she was worried she was hurting him, he certainly didn't appear to mind. In fact, every time she thought she might have dug her nails in too hard, he seemed to respond more, moaning against her. He paused occasionally to lap at her, licking away the trickles down her thigh. But whenever his mouth returned to focus on her clit, she would lose her balance, feeling small jolts in every inch of her body. Tony seemed to know exactly where to press - not that he'd ever had a problem with that - but right now, he was giving it his all.

Michelle bucked up against him with a gasp, her hand fiercely tugging at his short hair. She warbled his name, begging him not to stop, hearing her pleas echo against the tiling of the shower. He obliged very quickly, not wanting to wind her up any longer, knowing what she wanted and that she wanted it now. His mouth seemed to be everywhere all at once in a way she'd never experienced before. He was flicking her clit but somehow pressing inside of her, along with his fingers. When she came, she felt the tension release in every part of her body. Michelle placed a finger under his chin as he moved back and dragged him up so their mouths could meet.

They kissed messily, and she pulled him against her. If that was his idea of an apology, then apology accepted. She was prepared to make sure he knew that in every way possible, whether that meant reciprocating or letting him be inside of her, she didn't care. But as his body touched hers, she realised, with bewilderment, that he wasn't hard. Desperately, she started to grind against him, but her stomach sank when he pushed her away and stepped out of the shower, grabbing his towel on his way. Feeling utterly dumbfounded, she turned the water off and followed suit, yanking her towel off the rack and quickly drying herself off.

She followed him into the bedroom, where he was getting dressed for work.

"What the hell was that?"

"You're welcome." He said without meeting her eye.

"No." She said firmly. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to fuck me and then walk away like nothing happened. What, did you see that as some kind of favour? Like you were just doing it to make up for last night?"

Tony still wouldn't look at her. "You got what you wanted." He said indifferently. "You didn't say I could enjoy that."

Michelle squinted at him. "What?" She sighed. "Look, there's nothing to be ashamed about if you're having trouble with intimacy right now. We've been apart for so long, it's understandable. We can talk to someone-"

"It's not that." He said, cutting her off.

"Then what is it?"

He went to speak but didn't say anything, not as though he wasn't able to form the words needed but instead because he couldn't be bothered to.

"Talk to me, for Christ's sake. What's going on?" Michelle said, hardening her voice.

"I don't understand why you're making this a big deal."

She folded her arms. "Did it ever occur to you that I enjoy pleasuring you too?"

Tony scoffed. "You didn't seem to want to do that last night."

"Because what you asked for was insane!" Michelle stated. "Just because you wanted to give me the reins didn't automatically mean I was going to enjoy it."

He shrugged. "Can't I want something different?"

"Wanting something different is trying a new position or asking me to be a little rough, not demanding that I degrade you and make you bleed and use you like some kind of slave." She shook her head, feeling horribly disconnected from him, something she'd never felt in any argument they'd ever had. "Whatever happened while you were undercover, this need to… punish yourself like this isn't okay."

A heavy silence filled the room. He was shutting her out, and her worry overrode her anger. She just wanted him to be okay.

"We're going to be late for work," Tony said dismissively.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, feeling utterly defeated.

"Look, if you don't want to talk to me about what happened while you were undercover, that's okay." Michelle reasoned. "But just talk to someone about it. Please."

He stood still in his tracks before exhaling and walking back towards her. The hug felt forced, and again, the cold temperature of his body was very noticeable, but she returned it anyway, feeling like it was the least she could do.

Michelle just hoped that he would take her advice.

Tony's first few days at Emerson's compound went how he expected. He saw plenty of evidence of smuggled goods and illicit technology and was sure he'd be able to bring back plenty of evidence once he got a moment alone to take some photos. There was a level of trust among those who worked for Emerson, and they all regarded him with scepticism, as expected. Even if Emerson seemingly was okay with bringing him in, it would take some time for them to warm up to him. One man in particular, Damian Rennett, really seemed to dislike him. Tony couldn't help but feel like he was being watched at every turn. He wanted to call Michelle and then Larry to say that he was in, but it didn't seem there was going to be an opportunity for it any time soon.

He walked down a quiet hall towards where he believed Emerson had a private office. The door was slightly ajar, and it sounded like he was in there with someone. He was willing to bet it was Damian; the man never seemed to leave his side. Tony stood with his back flush to the wall, holding his phone so he looked vaguely purposeful in case someone walked past and accused him of eavesdropping. In the reflection of a nearby mirror, he confirmed the identities of the people in the office.

"-telling you, David, I don't like him," Damian said quietly.

"I don't want to hear it. Don't push me."

He huffed. "I understand why you fancy him, but believe me, he's trouble." Emerson reprimanded him with a glance that would have made anyone shut up, but apparently not this man. "Have I ever been wrong?" He insisted, and Tony just knew they had to be talking about him. He felt a cold shiver down his back. Were they onto him? Had he been made? Had Emerson only brought him here to get his information and then kill him? 

Tony didn't know exactly what happened next; one moment, they were standing next to each other, and the next, Emerson had Damian pinned to the ground by the throat with more speed and strength than he seemed capable of. 

"You should know better than to defy me, Damian." He gritted through his teeth.

Emerson retrieved a sharp knife from his pocket, and Tony held his breath, expecting his next order to be disposing of a dead body. But what he saw instead made him nauseous. The blade went to Damian's eye, and blood sprayed over his face. He grunted, and Damian screamed gutturally. Tony watched as Emerson furiously held him down while he gouged his eye out with all the delicacy of a person trying to stab an olive with a toothpick. As Emerson went to stand, Tony felt his stomach lurch when he saw a gaping, oozing wound where Damian's eye had once been.

He hurried down the hall back to the main room of the compound, moving near a computer so it looked like he was working. Nobody was around, thankfully, so, with shaking hands, he dialled a familiar number on his phone.

"Larry, it's me." He said quietly, thankful he even picked up. "Emerson took me back to his place, but they might be onto me. I think this is a set-up."

"What makes you think that?" Larry asked, and from his voice, Tony could tell he had been sleeping. "We know he's paranoid about loyalty, he could just be testing-"

"He took a man's eye out while they were talking about me behind my back," Tony emphasised, looking around frantically and feeling utterly terrified. "I-I don't think they saw me, but-"

Larry cursed under his breath. "Look, I don't want to put you in any more danger, but… how sure are you?"

"What?" He hissed.

"How sure are you that Emerson's onto you? You said you didn't think they saw you, right?" He clarified. "We… We've put so much work into this mission." The word 'we' made Tony snort derisively. It was his life on the line here. "If you think there's a chance your cover hasn't been blown and you took what happened out of context, then I can't let you back out now."

That made it perfectly clear to Tony how disposable he was to Larry. He didn't care what it took or whether he would have to lose his life in the process of getting Emerson. It made him wonder whether he'd follow up on his promise about expunging his record when he made it back to the FBI, if he made it back to the FBI. 

"Look. I'll stay. But Emerson's got high security around the place. I wouldn't be surprised if he's monitoring all cell phone frequencies. We have to keep this short." Tony said hurriedly. "Don't expect me to update often. But when the time is right for the FBI to move in, I'll let you know."

"Alright, be careful."

Tony heard footsteps and knew his time was up.

"One more thing. Tell Michelle I love her." Despite what had happened just a few days prior, he still wanted her to know that. Even though the last month had been some of their worst days, that was still true. And now, after what he'd witnessed, dare he say it, there was a chance he wouldn't make it out of Emerson's compound alive if he even had an iota of a suspicion that he was double-crossing him.

"I will."

He hung up the phone just as Emerson came into sight. He tensed his muscles so it wasn't obvious he was shaking. He'd kept his voice low, but if Emerson had even heard a sentence, he was finished.

"Everything alright, Tony?" Emerson asked.

"Y-Yeah." Tony cleared his throat to mask his fear. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good." He smiled. "I have some work for you. Usually, someone else does this, but he's a little… incapacitated right now."

Tony gulped, wondering if he had any idea that he'd been privy to the whole thing and despising Larry for putting him in this situation. "Sure. What do you want me to do?"

Michelle found herself standing in their living room. Somehow, the place still didn't feel like home. It was dark. She was in her work clothes but didn't really know why. There was a meow, and she turned to see a black cat staring at her from outside the window. A neighbour's, she was guessing. She'd never really believed that black cats were a sign of bad luck, but there was something uneasy about it. She hadn't ever seen it before.

"Tony?" She called, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Her brow furrowed as she faintly heard talking and, if she wasn't mistaken, moaning coming from upstairs. Something felt very off here; she could sense it in her gut. She called his name again and walked up towards their bedroom, her hand clutching her gun. There were dark shadows along the walls, and the air felt colder as she neared it. Most strangely, an eerie red glow emanated from their room.

When she peeked inside, she saw two figures; a man was perched on the edge of their bed, and another man was kneeling before him. It took her a moment to click that the man sitting on the bed, his hand clenched as he roughly pulled the other man's hair, was David Emerson. There were soft, choked groans coming from the man who was obviously servicing him, and Emerson praised him quietly. When she met Emerson's eyes, she became paralyzed with terror, like she was looking at something she wasn't supposed to, and he’d punish her for that intrusion. Only then did the other man lift his head and turn around.

It was Tony.

Even though, on some level, she knew she should feel hurt and betrayed and downright furious, she was instead very scared because both Emerson's and Tony's eyes were as black as midnight. She turned to run but gasped as she discovered Emerson had somehow moved and now stood in front of her, a devilish grin on his face.

"He's mine now, Michelle." He said, and a part of her would later wonder how she knew what his voice sounded like. "He has no use for you anymore." His hand fiercely gripped her throat, and as he squeezed tighter, everything went dark.

Michelle woke up with a hiccupy gasp, panting heavily. Sweat made her hair stick to her forehead, and she rapidly looked around herself. That unease in her gut was still there. It made her want to get up and check every room of the house, convinced that Emerson was lurking somewhere, ready to pounce and take everything from her.

But what snapped her out of her paranoia was noticing that Tony hadn't woken up. He was sleeping quietly, almost too quietly, to the point where she considered checking his pulse. He'd never been a heavy sleeper. And he certainly hadn't ever been incapable of hearing her wake up from nightmares, something she'd had a lot of in the early days of their relationship following the bomb at CTU. She gently placed her hand on his back. He still felt cold. And, despite not seeing him shave, he still had the buzzcut from being undercover. She didn't like it. It was harsh and mean. It was everything he wasn't. At least, everything he wasn't before he'd started preparing to go undercover.

Michelle got up and poured herself a glass of water, a little concerned by the presence of a black cat in their front yard. Just like in the dream, it simply stared back at her, like it was looking into her soul. She thought back to the other things she had seen in the dream, how devoted Tony had been to pleasuring Emerson. It felt ridiculous to think she was jealous based on something her mind had invented. But at the same time… he'd spent a lot of time with Emerson, and he certainly hadn't tried very hard to make up for it when he'd come home. This was just her brain's stupid way of reminding her of that. She had given him plenty of space; she didn't feel like she was being selfish now for wanting her husband to be present when they were intimate after so much time apart. She needed him to start acting like himself again, to make love to her as he used to.

It had to be a coincidence, she insisted to herself as she kept staring at the cat outside. The things she'd seen in the dream had been a metaphor and nothing more. Although, if it had really just been a manifestation of her missing him, then what did the dark eyes have to do with it?

As Michelle laid back down to try to sleep, her eyes welling with tears, she realised with pity that if Tony hadn't woken to her screams, then he certainly wouldn't wake to her cries, either.

–

"Michelle, are you alright?"

She blinked a few times, reminding herself where she was. "Yeah… yeah, I'm fine." 

Larry didn't seem convinced and shut the door to the meeting room, leaving just the two of them in the room. He then sat next to her, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"You've been a little off your game these last few days. Have I put you on for too many night shifts?" He asked with concern, offering a reassuring, apologetic smile. "Because you've gotta tell me if I am. I lose track of who I roster on sometimes. Especially when they're more senior agents."

Michelle had been there long enough that he felt he knew what her limits were. However, he still couldn't shake the feeling of guilt he still carried every time he spoke to her alone, especially now that Tony was back.

But Michelle shook her head, relieving him from his concerns. "I haven't slept well for the last couple of weeks, but it's got nothing to do with work. It's just… me."

Larry nodded, understanding why that might be. After all, she and Tony weren't doing a great job of hiding their tension at work. "Do you want to talk about it?"

If it wasn't for the fact that they'd spent so much time together these last few months while Tony was undercover, he would not have had the courage to be able to talk to her like this. Even then, it hadn't been easy. He'd felt like he was violating some kind of boundary, but at the same time, it was clear she'd gotten to a point of feeling very isolated, and he didn't want to stand by and let her go on without support. Larry had told himself that he'd done it for the sake of their jobs and making sure that she didn't slip up, but he knew that that was a lie. He would never act on his feelings for her, though. He wasn't that kind of person; he'd been cheated on, and he knew what that was like. But that didn't mean he couldn't at least be a good friend to her.

"It's… God, it's stupid." She ran a hand over her forehead. "I'll get over it. It's fine."

"Michelle, I might not have known you for very long, but what I do know is that when you say something's stupid and not to worry about it, nine times out of ten, it isn't."

She smiled a little. Larry did know her well it seemed. "No, this time, I really think it's stupid."

He smiled at her invitingly. "Well, let's hear it then."

Michelle hesitated just for a moment, not sure she should share that with him, but Larry sounded like he genuinely wanted to help her, and she did need someone to talk to since her own husband seemed to either not realise how she was feeling or not care; Michelle wasn’t sure which scenario she hated more. "I keep having these bizarre nightmares, and they, just, I don't know, they feel real. I wake up, and I can't fall back asleep because I don't feel right and…" There was a very distant look in her eyes. "I guess it doesn't help that Tony doesn't notice."

He furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

She let out a breath. "I mean, I wake up screaming, and he doesn't stir. He's never been like that." She frowned. "From the beginning, he's… he's always heard me if I wake up in the middle of the night." 

Larry opened his mouth to say something but could only come up with words that felt insincere even to himself. "I… I'm sure it's just because he's exhausted from God knows how many months of sleepless nights."

"You don't have to protect my feelings, Larry," Michelle said sadly. "He's… he's obviously just focusing on himself right now and getting used to being back at work. He'll get there with time. I'm just… I'm not his priority right now, that's all."

"But that doesn't mean you should suffer." Larry refuted. "That's not fair."

An awkward silence fell between them, and he suddenly felt very stupid. He was treading into a very dangerous territory that he didn't want to go into with his married colleague, whom he had authority over. And he certainly didn't want to do that when he knew that Tony hadn't been the biggest fan of him even before going undercover, let alone now when he had apparently been very aloof and hostile. He couldn't be this person for her, for both of their sakes.

"I… I should get back to my office." Michelle said after a beat, standing and leaving before he could even open his mouth to apologise.

But what Larry did know was that if the day ever came when she came to him and asked for his support, he would give it to her in a heartbeat.

"Want to tell me where we're going now?" Tony asked, trying to mask the anxiety in his voice, clashing with how calm and warm Emerson sounded, almost reassuring. "We're almost there."

Emerson soon parked in front of a decrepit warehouse that looked like it hadn’t been used in a while, yet there was another car there with no licence plate. Stolen, he presumed. They both got out of the car, and Tony could hear some muffled yelling but didn't have a chance to try to make out what it was before Emerson gently tugged him towards the large door. The cold concrete and wind made the place freezing, and even though it was the middle of summer, Tony could still feel a chill down his spine.

"Care to tell me what this is about?" He asked, trying but failing to sound tough and unbothered. Emerson sighed, meeting his eyes. "Well, Tony. A friend of mine, someone I've known all my life and whose advice I usually trust, has come to me with some alarming news." He confessed as he took out his Glock 19 and screwed the silencer on, and Tony’s heart sped up. "He says you're not as loyal to me as you appear to be. He claims that you're working for somebody else and that you're feeding intel to them, that that’s your piece of silver."

Tony took a deep breath. He'd been an idiot to think that Emerson hadn't caught him on the phone. Even though he'd kept the call to Larry just under a minute, it hadn't been enough. He was going to blow his brains out all over the windshield. Would anybody find his body? Emerson would be smart enough to dump whatever remained of him in the Potomac. 

"Emerson, I-" Tony started, terrified.

"Bring him in." He simply called, his eyes never leaving Tony's as two men, presumably from the other car, dragged a third one in, blindfolded and with his hands bound behind his back. Then, they threw him on the floor, and as Tony took a better look at him, he realised it was Damian, the very man he'd seen Emerson mutilate an hour ago. It shocked him. Damian seemed to be Emerson’s right-hand man, and he was willing to let him, a newcomer, someone he really shouldn’t trust at all, interrogate him?

"Leave us." He ordered the men, and they did. No one spoke until they heard the car drive away. "Damian." Emerson finally started then. "You've made some serious accusations against Tony here, saying he betrayed me." 

"But woe unto that man by whom the Son of man is betrayed! It had been good for that man if he had not been born ." He quoted, and Damian shook his head. "You're twisting my words, David. I told you he'd come to you under a disguise, which he has, then that being close to him would put you in danger, which it will!"

"Emerson, I would never put you in danger!" Tony insisted, a desperation in his voice that was equal part fear of repercussion but also something Tony couldn’t name yet, a fierce devotion that made him want more than anything for Emerson to know he could count on him.

"Thank you, Tony. I appreciate that." Emerson said, seemingly believing him. "So you agree he's lying?"

He looked down at Damian, seeing nothing but an unnerving apathy in his expression, even though his eyes were covered. "Yes."

Emerson grinned triumphantly. "You don't want to hurt me in any way, do you?" He asked as he turned towards Tony, running a hand down his cheek and making him shiver.

"No." Tony was quick to reply, hoping he wasn’t showing just how much that intimate gesture had affected him.

"Good boy." He praised.

Damian huffed. "Bloody hell, David, listen to me! You know I'm right!"

Emerson turned back towards him, all gentleness gone from his face and voice. "No, and I'll prove you wrong!"

Emerson then smiled again and handed the gun to Tony. He looked down at the weapon and then at Emerson, confused. "Shoot him." The voice in his head ordered him.

Tony knew that it was a test. It had to be. David had started to doubt him, and the only way he could know for sure if Tony was loyal was by handing him an empty gun to see if he'd kill for him.

But Tony considered, in horror, that maybe it wasn't a test. Maybe Emerson just trusted him, and the gun was loaded. And Tony craved nothing more than Emerson's complete trust, and it wasn't even because of the mission. Tony had realised he felt a burning need to prove himself in Emerson's eyes. He would do anything-

He paused mid-thought. Would he? Would he do anything? Would he do this? Would he kill for Emerson, knowing the man on his knees in front of him was right, that his only sin was knowing of his true intentions? But then again, wasn’t that reason enough to want to get rid of him, silence him for good?

Tony knew what he was supposed to do, what his training and his duty to uphold the law said he should do, what Larry would have him do at that moment, since he was fairly certain the two men had left and Tony knew for a fact that Emerson had just handed him his own gun, Tony should turn it towards Emerson and arrest him before contacting the FBI. Despite how casual Emerson was trying to make it seem, murder was a serious charge, and they could lock him away for a long time on that. Of course, things would end very differently if the gun he was holding was empty.

As Tony steadied his trembling hands, he looked at the man in front of them. Damian didn't seem afraid, just extremely annoyed. Maybe, Tony figured, he wasn't aware of the seriousness of the situation since he couldn't see him or the weapon in his hands. Maybe, Tony realised, that was his future if he decided to trust Emerson; Damian seemed to consider himself important to Emerson, possibly even a good friend. If Tony went down that same road, who was to say that one day soon, as the pathologically paranoid person he was, Emerson wouldn’t doubt his loyalty and would have him killed in cold blood by his next protege?

Damian sighed. "Oh, come on. We both know what you're going to do, so just get this over with!" He sounded oddly impatient, and his insufferable tone was starting to get on Tony's nerves, but would that be enough for him to kill?

He looked towards Emerson again, hesitant, but after a reassuring nod from him, Tony knew that for him, for his approval, he would do that and more. He turned back towards Damian and pulled the trigger. 

Tony stood there for a moment, observing the way Damian's blood and brains had splattered all around them. It looked so dark against the pale concrete, almost black, but he put that down to the dim lighting in the warehouse. Did Damian have a family? A partner? Someone, anyone, he could contact? Not now, of course. Emerson was suspicious as it was. But when he got back to the FBI, he promised himself he would. He'd bring them something to remember him by since there was no way they'd ever see his body again, even if it wasn't in such a state.

"Well done, Tony." Emerson praised, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure that wasn't easy for you."

"H-He was disrespecting you." Tony justified, in a monotonous tone he'd never heard himself speak in. It was like it had come to him naturally to do everything in Emerson's name. "He couldn't be trusted."

"He was disrespecting us both." Emerson pointed out, and Tony was a little surprised by Emerson pulling him in for a hug. He felt a tear roll down his cheek, unable to stop staring at the mess he'd made. Tony wasn't grieving for Damian. No, he was grieving for his morals that had died alongside him. What would Michelle think of him now? He'd killed a man in cold blood. Yes, he would justify this later as a necessary part of his cover, but he knew there was no going back now. 

Tony sighed. He knew now that he would kill for Emerson. He hoped there would never come the day when he found out if he'd die for him, too. The fact that the answer might not be no scared him.

Michelle shut the door behind her, checking that nobody could see her as she walked into his office. She looked very nervous, like she was doing something wrong, and technically she was, but Larry wasn't about to rebuke her for it. After all, it had been his suggestion.

"I haven't looked, but I've got it open on my computer," Larry said, turning it towards her.

"I really appreciate you doing this. I'm sorry to put you in this position." 

He shook his head. "It's no trouble. As far as I'm concerned, if this helps you get through to Tony, then it'll be for the benefit of the FBI, not just you."

Michelle examined Tony's medical records with scrutiny, desperately hoping to find a reason to explain his behaviour since coming home. But as Larry watched her press her lips together and flick back and forth between pages, he realised that maybe the answers weren't there. 

"There's… there's nothing here. No sign of assault. His STD test was clean. I… I know he has that tattoo. He said it was just a sign of loyalty, and he didn't seem that bothered by it. Besides that, there isn't a scratch on him." She looked up, more lost than ever. "I… I don't understand. Why did he request to seal his records from everyone, including me, if there was nothing to hide?"

Larry shrugged. "I wish I had the answers for you, but…" He trailed off. 

Her hunch had been that Emerson had hurt Tony, and it would have made a lot of sense, but if there was nothing there… then they were back at square one. He could tell the lack of logic here was driving her crazy. He'd noticed that very early on about her; Michelle, like him, worked best when there was pragmatic reasoning and structure behind something, be it a suspect's motives, an attack plan, or a trail of evidence. What concerned him now was not just how many sleepless nights she'd had but also that she was blaming herself, rethinking every single interaction she'd had with Tony since he'd come home, wondering what she'd done to upset him and make him draw away.

"Thanks anyway." She said, resigned, before turning to leave. He wanted to say something to reassure her, but he couldn't find the words.

He watched Michelle walk towards the elevator to leave but was confused to see Tony talking to Sean. They didn't even acknowledge each other when she walked past him. Tony had been home for a month by this point, and yet, Larry was pretty sure he'd spent so much time chasing up leads on David Emerson that it likely wouldn't have made a difference. Any time Larry arrived at the FBI, Tony was already there. Any time Larry left the FBI, Tony always stayed. His timesheets supported his ridiculous hypothesis of how many hours he'd worked. While he appreciated his commitment to the case, they'd long since established that the raid had gotten them much further than before, even if they hadn't caught Emerson. More than that, Larry was certain that Michelle wasn't okay with this – if Tony was even communicating what he was doing with her.

He waited for Tony to finish up at Sean's desk before following him back to his.

"Almeida, can I talk to you for a minute?" He asked, noticing that Tony was putting on his leather jacket and that he'd already changed out of his work clothes.

Tony looked up, shrugging. "Yeah, sure."

Larry shut the door behind them, not wanting anybody else to hear in case this got ugly.

"You heading out again?"

"Yeah, I'm meeting up with an informant."

That was the tenth time in the last four weeks he'd said that. And he knew for a fact that on each of those occasions, Tony hadn't bothered coming home in between, nor had he reported back any solid intel. Did the man even sleep? He also noticed Tony's head was freshly shaven. At first, he thought it was a coincidence, but it really seemed like every time he went to meet an informant, he came back with a haircut. It was strange, to say the least. He had to wonder what kind of twenty-four-seven barber he went to. And why?

"Look, Tony..." Larry sighed, trying to find his words, very aware that Tony was quick to get defensive. "I appreciate what you've done for this case, but... you don't need to keep doing this."

"I'm the only connection we have to Emerson. I need to finish this."

"I understand that, but I'm also your superior, and I don't think this is a good idea." Tony seemed to react a little to that. He admittedly hated dropping the 'superior' line since it was never good for morale, but he had done it here in the hopes of making Tony understand that he was pushing himself unnecessarily. "You're going to burn yourself out, and Michelle's worried about you."

The mention of Michelle's name was another thing that caused Tony to freeze and tense his body, looking at the desk.

"I appreciate your concern." He said stiffly. "But Michelle can handle herself. She's stronger than you think. If I quit the case now, we'll lose Emerson completely. And even if that'll make Michelle happier… I’ll hate her for it.” 

Larry was almost shocked by how dismissive he was. Before he'd gone off on that mission, he'd seen Tony as someone who would do absolutely everything and anything for his wife. He remembered how he'd been during the preparation, how defensive he'd gotten when he'd pretended to be Emerson talking about her. Now, the defensiveness was being channelled towards the case. His concern for Michelle wasn't the priority anymore. Larry realised that maybe he should have pushed harder about Tony getting counselling. This obsession with hunting Emerson down wasn't healthy.

"I didn't say she wasn't strong, but you're her husband, and you've spent a lot of time apart, so she needs you-"

"Don't tell me what my wife needs, alright?" Tony said with a slight growl. It reminded Larry of how angry Tony had gotten when he’d helped him get ready to go undercover. Still, he wasn't going to let the memory intimidate him.

Larry huffed. "Well, by the sounds of it, you're not home enough to know."

Everything happened in a blur. Larry felt his body slam against the wall, rattling the cupboards nearby, and Tony's hands gripped the collar of his shirt. There was a look of pure fury in his eyes that Larry had never seen before. Maybe it was the lightheadedness from the chokehold, but Larry could have sworn Tony’s eyes were darker than usual.

"You know nothing about my marriage, you know nothing about my wife, and you know nothing about what I've been through." Tony hissed. "So why don't you just let me do my job?"

He dropped him, and Larry coughed a few times, smoothing the fabric of his shirt. While Larry knew logically that that was an appropriate circumstance to reprimand Tony, he was too dumbstruck to move. His back burned from the impact against the wall. If Tony had done that in the heat of the moment, he shuddered to think about how powerful that would have been if he had planned it.

Larry had been concerned about Michelle before, but now he was genuinely scared for her. No relationship was without its faults, but now he was very much aware that Tony was actually capable of hurting her, not just emotionally but physically, too. He wouldn't confront Tony about this again, just in case he thought Michelle was asking him to do this on her behalf, which she wasn't. She'd made it clear that she didn't want him to bring it up with Tony. And now he understood why. Maybe she'd been warning him.

Logically, he knew this fear should be a sign to keep out of their lives, but it just made Larry want to protect Michelle even more.

Emerson had taken Tony in almost a month ago, but Tony was struggling to even remember what life was like before him. From the moment they met, Emerson had been flirty, his very first conversation with Tony being a not-so-subtle offer to fuck his troubling thoughts away. At first, Tony hadn't thought much about it, half convinced Emerson was joking. But then he had started noticing the way he'd talk to him, the subtle touches feeling less and less subtle each day, and Tony was beginning to suspect Emerson's closeness was more than just his European manners. He was pretty sure Emerson didn't treat his other associates like that. In fact, most of them tended to look at him with something of jealousy, if he wasn't mistaken.

Tony sighed, shaking his head. He was clearly delusional. He hadn't even been there a month; there was no chance he'd made an impression on his target so soon. Tony paused mid-thought; something about thinking of Emerson as a target felt… off, even though Tony couldn't quite put his finger on why.

'Because you want me.' That familiar voice that had never left him suggested, and by now, Tony had stopped questioning its existence, figuring the auditory hallucination was caused by how little he was sleeping lately at best and his guilty conscience at worst, reminding him he was not supposed to think about Emerson like that. 

Emerson was a mercenary of the worst kind; Tony should know better than to feel any sympathy for him. At the same time, given that he'd done everything and anything Emerson had asked of him, moving shipments of God-knows-what, keeping an eye on anyone he suspected was double-crossing him, even killing anyone if asked, Tony had to admit he didn't feel quite as 'dirty' as he should have. He was indifferent to it. He told himself it was because he constantly reminded himself he was undercover and that the ends justify the means, but he didn't really believe it anymore. More than that, he wasn't even neutral about Emerson. He was on his mind constantly. And not just for the sake of the case.

Tony was almost infatuated with the power he exerted over his crew. With the way he felt no shame or hesitation in doing something as horrific as pulling out an eye in front of everyone. There was something so voyeuristic about it. Somehow, the violence was almost salacious. It made Tony want Emerson to do something to him in front of everyone. 

Suddenly, he was reminded of the graphic vision he'd had at the bar that day. Just thinking about it again threatened to make him hard. And combined with the thought of other people watching …

"Everything alright, Tony? You've been standing there staring into space for the past seven minutes." Fuck, Emerson had just caught him daydreaming on the clock. And about him, no less.

"Emerson!" He shook his head, trying to wish away the thoughts he’d been having. "Sorry, I was just-" But he was interrupted just before he could come up with some excuse. "It's just David, Tony."

But Emerson – David – wasn't just anything. There was nothing ordinary about him.

As he thought more about him, the timbre of his voice that made Tony feel like he would do anything and everything for him, the strength of his body, the power he had over a room, he let himself get lost in his dark, inviting eyes, before his mind reminded him of he was capable of, by vividly replaying the moment he had gouged Damian’s eyes out. Tony looked down immediately, his heart beating faster. 

That had been just the first of many things Tony had seen happening at the compound that had made it clear there was more to David than what had been in his file. He'd been reading so much about David, and although the details from the FBI had been somewhat limited, he was sure he could recall every word and every image from memory. The intensive study was likely why he'd gotten to the point of hearing David in his head; it had been preparation so Tony could remind himself that he was being watched at any moment.

Tony had quickly realised most of David’s men were obviously afraid of him, and even though he hadn't yet figured out why, he had started following their example. By now, it was second nature for Tony to lower his gaze whenever David spoke to him, just one of many other changes he'd had to adjust to. It had almost stopped feeling weird as hell.

He'd read somewhere that dogs felt like direct eye contact was a challenge, and you should never start a staring competition with an angry dog. Tony wasn't sure it was true, but what he was sure of was that he had no intention to challenge David.

"You can look at me, you know."

It sounded like an odd allowance, but David seemed to have figured out where Tony’s mind was, why, all of a sudden, he seemed afraid of being alone with him. It was like David could smell his fear, and it delighted him. More than that, it seemed the more he tried to will his body not to shake and stop the images of what happened to Damian flash in his mind, the more his grin widened with amusement. It made David a little too excited for his liking.

David said his name, and it mostly snapped him back to reality. He took a breath, reminding himself that eye contact used to be something that came naturally to him just a month ago, and finally mustered the courage to lift his gaze and meet David’s eyes. The pitch black that was staring at him still made him shiver, but he didn't look away. Tony swore he could look inside them forever.

It wasn't like he had never looked at David before. On the contrary, there was something magnetic about the moment that had Tony staring at him when he was sure David wouldn't notice. He had tried telling himself it was just part of his job, observing David to pick up clues from his body language or something, but not even ten days in and he had to give up the pretence; by now, Tony had long stopped thinking about David as the enemy, and instead he was more like a puzzle Tony wanted to solve out of his own curiosity, a manic obsession that took over him every time he was around David. Although, if he was being honest with himself, this obsession didn’t fade even when he was alone.

David smiled at him, and there was something equal part gentle and predatory in his expression, and it felt inviting just as much as it screamed at a dormant part of Tony to just get up and run for his life.

As if reading his mind – and Tony wouldn't put that past him – David reached out his hand to cup Tony's face and keep him from looking down again or maybe from running. "Good boy." He said simply, those words making Tony weak at the knees. "You have nothing to fear. I wouldn't hurt you. "

It hit Tony how protective David was of him, to what extent, he wasn't sure.

"I want to do something for you. Come to my place tomorrow night."

His heart leapt in his chest. He was more excited by the prospect of that than he should be, certainly not because it meant progress on the mission. He didn't sleep that night when he got back to his apartment, his mind racing with thoughts of 'what if' and butterflies in his stomach.

When he arrived the next day, it still surprised Tony how nervous he got around David, not because he was undercover and risking his life by lying to him, but because he simply felt so overwhelmed by his presence. He could barely make eye contact with him or call him by his first name. Until yesterday, at least. But tonight here he was standing outside his house for something that David hadn't really explained properly. He trusted him, though. He knew that. And if it was something for him, how could he refuse?

David opened the door with a smile and invited him in. It was immediately apparent how much money he made based on the expensively modern yet gothic style of his house. 

"Can I tempt you with a drink?" He asked, getting a rather expensive-looking scotch and two crystal tumblers out.

Tony paused. When he'd first met David, he'd been wallowing his sorrows at a bar. His profile was supposed to show a sign of alcoholism. Was this a test? To see if it had all been some act? And, if he was being honest, he could use something to calm his nerves. Why not kill two birds with one stone?

"Yeah," Tony replied. "You can."

He passed him the drink, and Tony welcomed the warm sensation of the alcohol burning the back of his throat. They sat on a lavish sofa, and Tony was aware of the fact that David was not sitting across from him as an associate would but next to him, their legs touching. He looked him up and down, and Tony took another sip of his drink, needing it to take its effect as soon as possible.

"So… what am I here for?" He finally asked, shivering as David turned to face him and reached out to caress his face.

"It's personal, so I hope you won't mind me bringing this up. But may I make a suggestion?" His voice was mellifluous and captivating, and Tony found himself nodding. "Sure, go ahead."

"It's about your hair," David revealed, and now he was really confused. This was not what he had been expecting at all. "What about it?"

"It doesn't belong to you." He admitted with a grin as he ran a hand through his hair. As he'd joined David's crew he'd let it grow longer than he usually would have liked; he'd done it undercover before, and it helped him get into the mindset of being a different person. Although, this time that line had blurred much more than he had intended. "Not anymore. It makes you look so much more harmless than you really are, like a common thug or a street dealer, but we both know what you're capable of."

Tony tensed at those words that almost sounded like praise. He'd killed for David. His mind tended to focus on remembering what had happened before then, blocking out the moment he’d pulled the trigger. But now he felt it all come back. It hadn’t been in self-defence or for any good reason other than the fact that David had seen someone as a problem and wanted him gone. He'd hesitated less than he thought he would have. But Tony knew it had nothing to do with being loyal to his cover and everything to do with being loyal to David. He'd killed a man in cold blood because he'd told him to. Although Damian had seemed oddly indifferent, Tony believed that even if he’d begged to have his life spared, he still wouldn’t have let it affect him at all, and deep down, it scared him.

As if oblivious to the moral crisis Tony was going through, David brought his attention back by running a hand through his unruly hair. "You'd appear more intimidating and command the respect you deserve if you looked a little tougher."

Slowly releasing his moral qualms, Tony finished his drink in silence, unable to find a response but very aware of the way David was looking at him and the warm praise in his tone.

"Alright, then." He finally agreed, earning a smile from David that made his heart skip a beat. "Come," David ordered, leading him to the bathroom, and Tony was met with a chair and an electric razor. He turned to David with a furrow in his brow.

"You're going to shave." He stated. "You have a new purpose here now, and I think it's time you let go of the past. Some say memory is stored in the hair, and you need to forget about the person you were before you came to me."

'You have a new home with me now. No need to cling to the ones that turned their backs on you.' The voice in his head added, and Tony didn't need any more encouragement. He sat down in front of the mirror, slightly unnerved by the way he kept finding David's eyes with his own as he watched him grab the electric razor.

Tony kept staring at their reflections, picking up on the way David selected a clipper and assembled the razor, his every movement deliberate and calculated, and his face looking as solemn as if he was performing some sort of ritual, and maybe he was.

David placed the vibrating razor on his head, and Tony closed his eyes and tipped his head back, leaning into the machine. The buzzing soon became a comforting background noise, and Tony got lost in it, abandoning himself to David, ready to be remade into whatever David deemed suitable. 

As Tony opened his eyes, he was already a changed man, and he stood up with bewilderment in his eyes and moved closer to the mirror to study his new look. He ran a hand over his head, unused to the feeling of it, and it sent a pleasurable sensation all over his skin, making him never want to stop his motion. 

"Feels good, doesn't it?" David asked, amused, setting aside the razor. David was moving in closer, and Tony knew he could have stepped back; he just didn't want to.

"Yeah," Tony admitted, forcing himself to stop petting his own head, but his hand was quickly replaced by David's, that reached out to caress what was left of his hair. "And you look really good, too. This suits the man you've become." David admitted, and when he spoke, his voice low, Tony could feel his warm breath on his skin. 

They were standing so close to each other now, and with each new stroke of David's hand, Tony melted a little more under his touch, became pliable and seemed to forget why he would ever think to step back.

"David..." He still managed to whisper, but it was a question, not a request to stop, so David didn't. "Shh, I know you're liking this." He said. "It's okay to enjoy it, to give in to this sensation." He reassured Tony, and that's when he let go, surrendered himself to his feelings completely and closed his eyes as David's hands started lowering towards the back of his neck, and he let out a sigh.

Tony couldn't help it. He leaned into his touch like a cat. He hadn't realised how intimate this was until now, more than that, how much he needed to let his walls down around someone. There had been a shift from trying to maintain his cover to realising that there was no 'cover' anymore, just a person who'd been rejected by those he'd loved and served, now desperately in need of someone to remind him that he was still worthy. 

He felt David’s hands slip further down to his hips and pull Tony closer until their pelvises were touching. "David." He repeated, and now it was a plea. 

"I can stop at any time." David pointed out, courteous and grinning. "But do you want me to?"

"No," Tony growled, frustration in his voice. "No, I want you to keep your hands on me." 

David smirked. "Good. Let yourself enjoy it, then. Let me make you feel good." 

David’s hands moved again, more daring this time, grabbing at his ass and pulling him closer, and Tony could feel that David was hard against him. "I think you might have realised by now that you're not just another part of the crew to me. You're so much more."

That meant more to Tony than he realised. How long had it been since he had felt wanted and like he belonged somewhere like this? Even when he’d desperately told Larry he might never see the light of day again, his only response had been regarding the mission. He was nothing to them. And he was certain Michelle didn’t care about him anymore. Larry could keep her plenty busy, he was sure. They were over. They had been over the minute he had started letting the mission, well, David, take priority in his mind over her. Still, some part of him needed to understand why David wanted him so much. He needed to know this was real.

"Why me?" Tony asked desperately. "I don’t… why are you doing this for me?"

"There's something about you, Tony. Something that makes you stand out. You're not like the other people around here. You're different. You're... more." The tone of his voice sent a chill down his spine. "And you're going to be mine." The voice in his head added.

Suddenly, all bets were off the table, and there was nothing that Tony wanted more than for David to claim him in every way. He needed this like oxygen.

"Show me," Tony whispered, not sure what else he wanted to say. He should say no to remind David and himself that he was a married man who loved his wife, even if they weren't exactly happy right now. But a voice inside him kept telling him to just forget about her. What happened undercover would stay undercover, right?

"I will. In time." David said, taking a step back, and Tony slumped his shoulder in disappointment, forcing himself not to follow David. "I can tell you’re still conflicted about what you want, and we’ve had a little too much to drink."

"Come on, David, don’t-" He begged weakly, but David just smiled at him mischievously. "To look forward to pleasure is also a pleasure." He purred, seemingly amused by his impatience. "But I promise you, you’ll get what you want soon enough. For now, I think we both should get some rest. There’s a spare bedroom at the end of the hall. You’re welcome to stay. There's no point in going home when we’re both on the job tomorrow morning."

"Wait…" Tony said as he started to walk away, making him turn. "What will the others say? If they see us together tomorrow?"

David chuckled. "They already know you’re my favourite. Nothing to worry about."

As Tony stood there watching him leave in stunned silence, he could only hope that his definition of soon was the same as David’s because he didn’t think he was going to be able to focus on anything until he got what he wanted.

However, he was deluding himself because David wasn’t a want but a need.

Renee sat in her car with a sigh, closing her eyes. She still couldn't shake the image from her mind.

"I'm not going to ask you again. Tell me where the shipment is," Tony demanded, pacing around the table.

Renee folded her arms, watching through the glass. Larry had already left to try to follow up on something else. This guy wasn't going to give them anything by the looks of it.

Tony slammed his hand on the table, yelling at him again. The noise was loud enough to echo off the glass. She went to speak into his comm and tell him not to press further, but her eyes widened when, in one quick motion, Tony grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall, knocking the table to the ground with a clang. The hostile had been lifted off the ground and was wheezing. If she wasn't mistaken, she could hear growling. 

"Almeida, what the hell are you doing?!" Renee yelled. He didn't respond and, somehow, she didn't think it was because he hadn't heard. "Put him down - you're going to kill him!"

She burst into the room with a huff. Renee called his name again and again, very clearly. From what she could see, the hostile was white as a sheet. He looked terrified of Tony. 

"P-Port of Alexandria!" He screamed. "They'll be at the Port of Alexandria."

As she went to call security, Tony suddenly released him, allowing him to slump to the floor, gasping for air. "See, it wasn't that hard." When he turned around, she could swear he was smiling. 

"What the hell was that?" She asked, hardening her voice to mask her fear. "This is not CTU, we don't do that shit here!"

"Well, it worked, didn't it?"

She almost jumped when she noticed Tony walking across the car park in her rear-view mirror. Michelle wasn't with him, meaning they were likely going home separately again. That had been happening a lot lately despite Larry's efforts to try and coordinate their shifts. Although, really, Tony was the one disrupting things by the sound of it. He'd kept insisting on meeting informants late at night to try and follow up on Emerson. She thought Larry had spoken to him about this and told him it wasn't necessary, that they had enough evidence to follow the trail until it led to something promising, then they could send a tac team and end this once and for all. But apparently, that wasn’t enough for Tony.

There was something off about his insistence on pursuing this intently. Renee knew there had to be more to it.

She waited to start her car until she was sure enough time had passed so it didn't look like she was after him. She followed him from a generous distance, but it still felt risky. He was an experienced agent who could no doubt recognise a tail, especially if he was already on high alert. But she was hoping she could count on her own skills of stealth to avoid him seeing her. 

They made their way to the edge of the city, and Renee pulled to the curb as Tony parked in front of a seedy-looking motel. This made her pause. Maybe he really was just meeting an informant, and there was no reason for her to spy on him. But her instinct told her to keep looking into this, so she drove into a dark alley, hoping Tony didn't see her as he stood in the car park waiting. It didn't take her too long to get into the place's security system, but she did have a hard time finding Tony at first. Until she realised her mistake. She had skipped any motel room – never mind the fact that they really weren’t supposed to have cameras in the bedrooms – and tried to look for common areas where people might be having discussions. As her eyes stopped on Room 137, she found what she was looking for. 

The man on the screen, she was sure of it now that she could see his face better, was undoubtedly Tony. But he wasn't speaking with an informant, and certainly not with animosity. He was making out with him so desperately like he was drowning, and the other man was his only lifeline. But just as Renee was ready to conclude her stalking operation had only yielded knowledge of Tony’s affair – which made her immediately think of Michelle and how heartbroken she was going to be when she told her – she recognised the man who Tony was kissing so passionately.

"No, that can't be." She told herself in disbelief, but there was no denying it. The man in Tony's arms was none other than David Emerson.

It all made sense now.

The late nights 'following up on leads', the aloofness, the secrecy, all of it could be explained by this. He was still seeing Emerson. Whatever he had started with him for the sake of his cover hadn't stopped. It wasn't just about the affair, though. What if he was still working for him? Feeding him intel from the FBI? He was in a perfect position to do so since the mission had failed. However, now she realised it was likely that Tony had let that happen on purpose. It had all been a lie.

She needed to stop him. She was outnumbered, so she would need to call for backup. But just as Renee went to do so, she felt a chill course through her body as Emerson and Tony faced the camera again. She had to blink a few times to make sure she wasn't just hallucinating from fatigue. Her breath hitched when she confirmed what she was seeing.

Both of their eyes had turned black, not just the iris, but the whole sclera too. She could see fangs protruding from David's lips as they scraped Tony's neck, piercing the skin there to draw blood. The wound healed almost immediately. She brought up the window alongside, showing Tony's ID photo, taken before he'd gone undercover. The paleness of Tony's skin was so obvious now. Emerson had changed him in many more ways than one.

And, to her horror, the corruption wasn't even the thing they had to worry the most about.

She watched as Emerson stepped back, away from Tony's welcoming arms, much to his confusion, before looking around, his face shifting to something far more monstrous as his body language conveyed irritation. He scanned the whole room, then his head lifted, and his whole body stilled, like a predator that had spotted an elusive prey and readied itself for the attack. Emerson was looking up at the security camera, eyes that seemed to be staring deep into her soul.

"David?" She heard Tony calling his name softly, a voice she remembered only having heard him use towards Michelle long before he went undercover. "Is everything alright?"

"We have company." Renee froze as Emerson stared directly at her, suddenly feeling as though he could hurt her through the screen. "Agent Walker, I didn't know you liked to watch."

With shaking fingers, she took screenshots of what the security footage showed before everything faded to static. She slammed her laptop shut, breathing rapidly and looking around her before frantically getting ready to drive off.

She didn't know what she had just seen. But what she did know was that it confirmed that Emerson was far more dangerous than anybody could have imagined. And that whatever had happened with Tony had progressed too far to stop.

-

In the room, Tony turned to David with shame on his face. "I'm sorry. I'm usually good at spotting a tail…"

"It's alright. I scared her off." David assured him, turning to him with a reassuring smile, but Tony kept his head down, feeling as though he’d failed his master. "Do you want me to go after her?"

David pondered that for a moment, then shook his head. "No. Now that we're alone again, I want you to get on your knees."

Tony smirked as he looked up to meet his dark eyes. "As you wish."

Tony had been there for almost two months when he finally broke. He knew his time was almost up, and soon he'd be pulled out from his cover. He might have been feigning an addiction for the last couple of months, but the reality was he had gotten addicted to something, and it wasn't the bottle; it was David. 

He couldn't even picture life without him now. They spent so much time together.

It was clear that David liked him from a business standpoint, often being the first person he asked to accompany him for a job and someone he trusted, too. But that also extended outside of work. He would find himself staying the night at his house multiple times a week, the small, shitty apartment the FBI had given him slowly building up dust. It wasn't just because Tony liked spending time with him and liked the way David made him feel appreciated, loved, worthy. It was because Tony didn't even know if he could stop himself from being around him. He was falling for him, hard.

Which is why he couldn't bear to lie to him any longer.

David's mouth was on his neck, biting him lightly, not drawing blood yet, and his hands slipped beneath Tony's shirt, but he knew he had to stop him, no matter how much he was enjoying it. "David... stop." He pleaded, and to his surprise, David did, retreating until they weren't touching anymore, and Tony had to hold back a whine. "I need to talk to you." He finally said, eyes lowering in shame.

"Okay." David nodded reassuringly. "You can talk to me about anything, you know."

Can I? Tony quickly doubted.

"It was all a farce. Damian was right. You shouldn't have trusted me." He sighed. "My falling out with my wife, the FBI firing me... none of it was real. I'm still working for them. I'm undercover. I'm supposed to go back in a few weeks and give them all I have on you."

He waited for David to yell at him, to slap him, to take his gun out, or just to react in any way, but nothing happened. He didn’t know whether he was begging for forgiveness or punishment. But Tony gathered the courage to look up at him, his eyes welling with tears, only to find him smiling at him amused. "Oh, Tony." He said, cupping his face with a hand. "You still thought I didn't know?"

David pulled him closer and kissed him sweetly, with a softness Tony wasn't expecting. "Who cares why the FBI thinks you're here? What matters is that when I called for you, you showed up on my doorstep. It was all as I planned it." He said warmly, making Tony realise that David's mission had been him all along. "And now you can go back and be my eyes and ears within the bureau."

Tony was speechless. It seemed too good to be true. He still felt unworthy. He'd still been dishonest to him, not loyal like he should have been. Was this a test?

"You'd trust me with that?" Tony questioned. "But David, I- I almost betrayed you!"

David grinned. "Did you? Seems to me you were trying to warn me just now."

"How can you just accept this?" Tony asked, still in total disbelief at the lack of fury in David’s expression.

"You're upset that I'm not mad." David realised, furrowing his brow in confusion. "What do you need?"

"I-" Tony hesitated, confused by that question, but David insisted. "No need to be ashamed, just tell me."

"You." Tony said thickly. "And I need you to be angry at me, furious."

David nodded. "I can do that."

"Hurt me. I don't want to enjoy it. I want you to punish me."

David kissed him before his entire behaviour shifted. "As you wish. Get on your knees." He said, and if he wasn't mistaken, there was a slight grumble, or was it a growl, to his voice.

Tony obliged without hesitation, the slight fear he felt only making this more of a rush. 

"When you thought you'd be working under me, you never thought you'd be following this kind of order, did you?" David teased with a smirk, and Tony felt the sting of David's hand across his cheek before he could take his next breath. It was hard enough to make his head spin. He wanted to feel it again; he wanted to feel David's anger in every bone of his body.

"Look at me." David commanded.

Tony still felt like he wasn't worthy and hesitated in obeying the order, which made David grab him roughly by the throat, squeezing enough to make the slight dizziness from the slap persist.

"Who do you belong to, Tony?" He asked - as if there was any doubt.

"You." Tony rasped. "Forgive me. Please. I won't ever betray your trust again. I swear on my life."

David looked at him for a moment as though searching his soul, trying to see if he really, truly meant this, and Tony could only hope David’d understood that he did. He seemed to believe him, so he released him abruptly, making him wheeze for a moment. David then pulled him to his feet, ripped his shirt off, and all but threw him against his desk so he was bent over. His pants and boxers were yanked down, and out of the corner of his eyes, Tony could see the hallway leading to the office.

"T-The door's open." Tony pointed out, feeling almost stupid for saying it when he knew David wouldn't be so careless if it wasn't on purpose.

"That's right. Because everyone needs to see what happens when you hide things from me." He said, making Tony's cheeks burn in shame, but at the same time, he was so thrilled by the idea of being used by David like this.

Tony listened as David unzipped his own pants and started to touch himself. He was standing behind him so he couldn't see anything but heard David groan. It seemed just the image of him waiting and ready was enough to get David hard.

He entered him surprisingly slowly, but given how Tony's heart was almost racing with excitement, he whined impatiently.

"Say it again, Tony." He ordered. "What do you need?"

"I need you to show me that I'm yours." As he said this, he felt liberated, like he was speaking from the depths of his soul. "And nobody else's."

"Good boy." As he said this, he started pounding into him without hesitation. 

He felt completed, filled, whole with every movement, and incoherently told David how much he'd yearned for this for so long and David, with one hand kneading at his ass while the other rested on the nape of his neck, only tightened the grip he had on Tony at the sounds he was forcing out of him.

Tony moaned but pushed his face down so the sound was muffled against the desk. David then pulled him up to lift his head again, which hurt a lot given that it hadn’t grown back very much since being shaved.

"I want everybody to hear how much of a needy whore you are." David explained near the shell of his ear, and as he thrust into him again, Tony didn't have to fake the whimper that left him. It hurt. God, it hurt, but in just the way he wanted it to. He felt like David had every right to do what he pleased with him. He wanted the marks and aches to prove it. He wanted to remember this.

He gasped when David's hand wrapped around the base of his cock and started to stroke him. 

"You've done so well, Tony." He purred, suddenly gentler, if only in words. "You deserve to be rewarded."

His movements were still very purposeful, like this was a demonstration, a display of ownership and nothing more. But God, was he good. He hit just the right spot as he continued to fuck him, all the while touching him in such a pleasant way.

"Please," Tony said. "Give it to me."

They came in tandem; David first, and the release made Tony feel closer to him than ever, then him, in a way that made all of the stress from lying to him and trying to keep up his cover disappear. He didn't need to hold back anymore. This was where he belonged, right here under David, just as he'd visualised when they'd first met. Tony felt like he was on a different plane of existence. He didn't even realise David had slid out of him until he called his name to get his attention, making his ears perk up like a dog.

He'd closed the door now, and Tony recognised that the atmosphere had shifted. If David wanted privacy now, this was no longer just about punishing him and showing him off. This was about something else. Something more intimate, and Tony yearned for that even more than he had for that punishment.

David walked back over and kissed him, praising him quietly for being so obedient to him. Tony returned the kiss eagerly, relieved that David still wanted him the same way and that his honesty was appreciated. His mouth slipped to his jaw, and Tony sighed, tipping his head back, desperate to let himself enjoy this after being so scared of losing it.

Tony jerked back when he felt something sharp scrape the skin of his neck. "What the fuck was that?!" He asked, voice shaking as he retreated and looked at David, realising there was something wrong. The first thing he noticed was how dark his eyes were, entirely pitch black. He’d seen this before, when he’d made eye contact with David with his permission, but insisted to himself that it had been a trick of the light. Then, as he kept examining the familiar yet somehow unrecognisable man in front of him through his parted lips, Tony could see fangs protruding.

"Tony." David called his name, his tone concerned and his hands barely caressing his sides, as if he worried a touch too sudden could make Tony run. "Relax."

When he realised that David hadn't moved his lips on that last word and that the voice had come from inside his head, everything fell into place. All this time, he thought it'd been the voice of his conscience. He thought he'd allowed that darkness and anger within him to be vocal so he could prepare for his cover. He thought it had just been a temporary shift of focus. But now it all made sense.

David grinned at his expression of shock. "Come on, Tony. Don't tell me a smart boy like you didn't see this coming."

Tony blinked at him a few times, still in utter disbelief.

"Have you never questioned the voice in your head?" David asked, almost amused by how well he’d succeeded in making everything appear very normal to the man he’d tried so desperately to recruit. "It's me, Tony. It's always been me."

Tony believed that, undoubtedly. However, it made him question everything he'd done in those last few months. What he'd done before David had decided to approach him. How had he been able to get inside his head, even from back then? He was scared now. If he could talk inside his head, there was no telling what else he was capable of. Could he have influenced his mind? Made him act in ways he never would have otherwise? But most importantly, if David had, would Tony really mind when what he’d gotten in return, something that made him feel more alive than he had in years, was so fulfilling in every way?

David noticed his eyes darting from him to the door, and he smiled sadly. "You can just walk out. No one's going to stop you."

Tony looked at him sceptically. In all the months he’d spent with him, Tony had never heard David sound like that, resigned almost, as if either powerless or unwilling to make Tony change his mind. He wasn’t used to that and almost felt like David was giving up on him. "You're not going to try to keep me here?" He asked, heartbroken. Had he still not proven his loyalty enough? Did he need to do more? Did David truly believe he wasn’t worth fighting for?

David sighed, for once avoiding his eyes. "Not by force." He clarified. "But if you're that proud and you want me to, I can beg you not to leave."

Tony furrowed his brow. "You don't need me nearly enough to beg." He pointed out, and it made David smile so genuinely. "As an employee? No. But I've told you this before, Tony. You're so much more than that." He said fondly, and Tony couldn't deny how good it felt to be wanted and have a purpose like that.

At the same time, this reveal still scared him. Whatever David was, it clearly wasn't human. He struggled to think of the implications of that. He didn't want to let this get between them, but he couldn't deny his fright was taking precedence in his mind. "W-What are you going to do to me?" He asked, voice shaking.

"I'm going to give you a choice." David said simply. "You can walk out that door and go back to the FBI and tell them whatever you see fit, and I will leave, and you won't ever see me again. Or, you can kneel and give yourself over to me, and I promise I will take such good care of you; your wildest fantasies and your every wish will come true. I will forever be at your side."

Tony paused, thinking about what that meant. He was almost giddy with the idea of it, the fear of David's power aside. After all that time feeling undervalued and like he'd been thrown under the bus for the sake of the mission, David had been kinder to him than anyone else, even his wife. He'd treated him well and respected him for who he was. He hadn't ordered him to do something and then reprimanded him like Larry had. He was honest about what he wanted and what his rules were.

Really, the choice was obvious.

David was everything he wanted, everything he had never dared to even desire; in a way, he was similar to Michelle, how they'd both accept how much guidance Tony might need, during intimacy and otherwise. Both of them valued loyalty and adhered to their principles, morally righteous or otherwise. And, most importantly, both of them cared about him. But when someone close to them, in an advisory role, had expressed their doubt regarding him, Michelle had believed Larry, while David had ordered him to execute his own right-hand man for daring to question Tony’s role in his life.

Besides, what could Michelle offer him now? A few more months of fights before she'd eventually turn on him and leave him for their boss? If she hadn’t already?

Meanwhile, David was promising forever, and there was no doubt he meant it. Tony wasn't even sure what the implications of that were, but he'd rather take that than what he could ever hope to still have with his wife.

"If you change your mind, I can stop, if you really want me to." David assured, as though sensing his contrasting feelings. "But then you'll never know how it'd feel to give yourself over to me completely." He pointed out, the smirk on his face telling Tony he knew exactly how tempting he sounded and how much Tony craved what he was offering.

David then took out an ornate-looking knife, delicately toying with it in his hands and stepping so they were just inches apart, the blade almost touching his skin. "Isn't that what you want?" Tony felt his breath catch in his throat. "Won't you let me make you mine?"

Tony eyed the knife suspiciously as it hovered so closely to his heart. "How do I know I can trust you?"

David smirked, parting his lips to show off the long, sharp fangs he had seen before. "You can't."

Tony took a deep breath. There was no point even thinking about what he was going to do; he knew his answer already, and so did David. There was no point denying it. "Do it." He finally agreed, and in a heartbeat, David was on him again. This time, his fangs didn't just drag on his skin teasingly, but they sank into him, and Tony felt a sharp pain propagate from his neck through his whole body, but he didn't even consider trying to get David off him; he simply let him do of him as he pleased.

Time seemed to stretch, and Tony wasn't sure how long it'd gone on for when David pulled away from him. Tony looked at the blood dripping from the corner of David's mouth, his blood, and, for some twisted reason, it got a physical reaction out of him, with whatever blood he had left flowing south.

"I'm going to do something else now. Stay very still." David warned him, and Tony opened his eyes again, not sure when he'd closed them.

He felt pleasantly dizzy from the blood loss, and he furrowed his brow as he watched David slice his own palm open with a curved knife, letting his blood coat the tip of the blade. Then, without warning, David moved closer to him and sliced the skin below his navel, his pants still unzipped from before. It burned as he continued to carve something there, and when he finally pulled away, Tony noticed two things: he wasn't bleeding, as if the cut had cauterised instantly, and David had drawn a pentagram on him. It looked like a tattoo, except instead of ink, it was made from a combination of their blood.

Much to Tony's amusement, now that his fear had gone, David didn't seem intent on putting the blade away, instead taking it and cleaning the blood off with his tongue, making sure Tony could see. He then moved it to caress his cheek, the blade delicately gliding across his skin. Tony's breath hitched in his throat when the knife made its way to his neck, just resting there, but there was something almost thrilling about the amount of power David had over him right now. David smirked, noticing how affected he was by it.

The knife moved away, but before Tony could indicate his disappointment, he flinched at the feeling of the tip of the blade tracing a delicate line down his chest. There was just enough pressure to make him bleed, but not profusely, creating a thin stream of crimson against his pale skin. David bent down and repeated the motion with his tongue, making Tony tip his head back with a sigh, too lost in the moment to let his remaining concern take control of his thinking. David could do whatever he wanted for all he cared.

Suddenly, the sharp sensation intensified, and Tony gasped, looking down to see the blade piercing his chest and sinking deep into his heart, darkness spreading quickly from where it had hit him outwards to his veins. It was like watching the roots of a tree all turn from purple to black. The veins he could see beneath his forearms darkened, and everything felt cold. He felt himself struggle to breathe as though his blood had thickened.  

"David…" Tony barely managed to whisper out his name, and the fear and betrayal in his eyes hurt David. He always hated the process.

"It's alright." David tried to assure him, but it did nothing to calm the panic in his eyes. "To live forever, you must die first."

He could tell Tony doubted him now and was surely wondering if that had only been David's reaction to finding out he was working with the FBI. But David didn't have time to reassure him further because now that all his blood had been tainted by the darkness of the blade, Tony's heart stopped pumping.

David sighed as he looked down at Tony's unresponsive body. "Now you're truly mine."

Renee rushed out of the car, her heart pounding. The FBI couldn't help her, however someone else could. She hadn't been to church in a while. But she knew it was the only place she could go after what she saw. She reminded herself that there was an underlying, but unfortunately perfectly plausible betrayal here as well and that the news was going to devastate Michelle. However, more importantly, all of this meant that Michelle was in danger. Renee knew she was utterly powerless and clueless here, so hopefully someone here could help protect her. She was also very aware that Larry had been trying to get through to Tony but was failing miserably. If Tony suddenly snapped one day….

"Uncle Bill!" She shouted, knocking on the large doors. "Uncle Bill, it's me, Renee. Open up, please!"

The door opened, and he stood there, surprised by her urgency. "You’ve come yelling in the middle of the night to the house of the Lord. I hope you have a good reason."

"I saw the devil."

His eyes widened. In all the years he had known her, Renee had never been one to joke on serious matters, and he doubted she'd start that night. More than that, there was a haunted look in her eyes he hadn't seen in many years, and it concerned him. For as long as she'd been alive, she'd had what he could only describe as prophetic and vivid dreams. He had never doubted their power because, more often than not, what she saw often came true. Still, he tried not to let her see his worry, instead putting on a relaxed and welcoming expression.

"Come in."

He took her to the back room of the church and made her a cup of tea. There was a frightened look on her face, and she seemed to be clutching her laptop to her chest tightly like it was very dear to her.

"I-I had a dream about six months ago. For the first time in years." That alone was enough to make him fret. "And now I think I finally understand it." She got her laptop out and opened it with hesitancy, her fingers shaking as she typed. "My friend's husband went undercover and hasn't been the same since he came back. I worried for her. I didn't trust him and thought he might be up to something. So I followed him tonight to a motel and…" 

At first, he was confused by the video of two men touching and kissing each other in a motel room. He furrowed his brow and looked up at her. He knew her better than to think she saw the devil's work in a couple of men being intimate, but her eyes begged him to wait. He felt a chill run down his spine when one of the men turned around, and his eyes were as black as night. He sank his fangs into the other man's neck, who looked similarly inhuman. One appeared to have considerable power over the other, who seemed to be loyally obedient to him. He could sense the darkness from them and felt like it was powerful enough to penetrate the screen and enter his church.

"This hasn't been fabricated, I swear." Renee pleaded, used to not being believed after a lifetime of unexplainable predictions. "It's real."

"I believe you, Renee." Bill assured her, cutting her off in her ramble, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I take it your friend's husband is the one on his knees?"

She nodded, pausing the video so that it gave the best view of the man's face.

Bill stared at it pensively. "How long was he undercover?"

"A-About three months."

He sighed, realising she was here not just to understand what she saw but also to help her friend. However, if he was right about this… there was very little they could do about it.

"You need to stay away from him." Bill warned her, his tone grave. "So does your friend. I'm not just being protective because you're my niece. You cannot trust this man or his master! They're more dangerous than you imagine."

"Master?" 

He stood and grabbed a book from his shelf while she took a sip of tea. Bill flipped the pages until he found the one he was looking for. He placed it on the table, and Renee looked at it, then up at him.

It looked like an old manuscript describing the signs of men and women bewitched by the devil, how to spot them, how to protect yourself from them, even how to kill them and how to dispose of the bodies so the devil wouldn't bring them back to life again.

"I-I don't understand. The devil was just a fear tactic because people in the past were afraid of anyone who was different and didn't know how else to explain it, right?"

Bill's lips thinned. "Until a few years ago, I would have agreed with you."

"What changed?"

He cleared his throat. "A fellow member of the clergy used to live in New York. There were similar claims about a man named John Milton, people he changed just by being close to them, driving some insane, corrupting others so much their own families found them unrecognisable." Bill explained with a heavy sense of foreboding. "Yet the devil takes many forms. He can be in many places at once and tempt anyone if they're not careful."

Her gut sank. "You're… you're saying David Emerson is the embodiment of Satan?"

"You tell me. Your friend's husband, tell me how he changed."

"His whole demeanour… it's colder." She started. "He's more violent and volatile. I had to stop him from almost killing a suspect. He has no remorse for his actions. He doesn't show any emotion, even around his wife."

"He was never like that before?"

"We're government agents, so I think a little violence comes with the badge, but the way he is with Michelle… he used to worship the ground she walked on!" She emphasised, and Bill could see a sadness in her eyes, which made him realise just how much she cared about her friend. "She was his everything, but ever since he came back from the mission... he barely even looks at her."

He nodded sombrely. "This sounds radical enough. The devil claimed him I'm afraid."

She felt hopelessness start to consume her. While it sounded insane, she believed it. She had been there. She had felt Emerson’s power as he turned towards her. "What- what can we do? How can we stop him?"

"I fear it may already be too late," Bill said grimly. "The only thing we can do is try to save the rest of you."

Tony woke up trying to gasp for air but quickly realised that his body wouldn't. Not because he couldn't breathe, but because he… didn't feel the need to? He was lying in bed in a dark room he recognised as David's. The lights weren't on, but he was quite sure he could see perfectly fine. It was also a little cold. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out for. The last thing he remembered was David hovering over him, a memory that his body reacted to much more than his mind. But then, that pleasantness was interrupted by recalling what David had done to him in that moment of power over him. The knife. The blood. The… whatever had happened to his heart. Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong.

"You're awake." A voice said, and Tony whipped his head around until he found David standing at the foot of the bed. He could swear on his life he hadn't been there before.

"What… what did you do to me?" He asked, trying to mask the wobble in his voice.

"You told me you wanted to be mine," David replied simply with a touch of fondness in his voice. "And now you are. Welcome back, Tony."

That last sentence really threw him off, but he could only come to one conclusion. It explained the coldness, the darkness, the emptiness he felt in his body. "Did I… did I die?"

David smiled. "You've proven your loyalty to me many times over, Tony. I've never doubted you. But the true physical test occurs when, yes, you die. Only then do I know for sure that you're committed to serving me in mind, body, and soul."

Tony didn’t know what this meant now – not that he didn’t trust David to have his best interest in mind – but as his mind slowly recalled all the things David had shown him, the teeth, the eyes, the strength… all of his fear made its presence known in every fibre of his being.

"W-Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, but David just smiled. "Well, would you have believed me?"

"I... I don't know." He admitted.

Tony was still shaking but willed every muscle to keep tense so he could make sure David knew he wasn't okay with this. But as he continued to think about David, think about the fact that he hadn't told him what he was about to do, the betrayal, that fear started to turn into something else. His fists clenched, and he felt his cheek twitch. He was aware of a low, animalistic growling sound, and it took a moment to realise it was coming from his throat. Within seconds, he had pushed David to the ground with more power and ferocity than he thought he was capable of. Tony quickly got out of his clothes, and as he looked back down at David, he found out he’d done the same seemingly without needing to get up.

This further reminder of the hidden abilities David had kept from him only made Tony more furious, and he threw himself at him, hands planted on either side of him, and, at a merciless pace, he started to furiously grind against him.

Somewhere in the rational part of his mind, Tony knew that David could stop him any time he wanted to, overpower him and reverse their position, but he didn’t care. For as long as David would allow him to take his anger out on him, Tony would. 

Looking up at Tony with an infuriatingly amused look, David cupped his cheek as he continued to grind against him, anger powering his every motion. There was something so gentle about it, in contrast to the rough nature of Tony’s movements.

"Feels good, doesn’t it?" He smiled, and Tony wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face. "To use your anger like that. I can’t wait to see what else you can do with it."

Tony grunted, his hands pushing on David’s shoulders harder than before.

This was not meant to feel good for him. If it had, Tony would have slid inside him and would be hitting his prostate in long, deep thrusts. No, this way Tony was making it clear he didn’t care about David’s pleasure; he was only using him to get some friction.

Still, Tony had to admit that wasn’t getting him very far. Frustrated, he sat up on his knees and manhandled David around to have him propped up on his elbows until Tony's cock lined up perfectly with his mouth, but David still looked way too smug as he parted his lips.

Wanting to erase that smirk from his face, Tony started to thrust into his mouth as roughly as possible but soon realised he could not bring David to gag if they shared the lack of need for oxygen.

“Sorry to disappoint.” David’s voice said in his mind, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “But if you’re done trying to prove something, I can make you feel really good.”

Reluctantly, Tony pulled out, curious to see what David was about to do. Despite Tony’s suspicions, David did not try to reverse their position. He just got his tongue out and started using it on him, his skills making Tony let out a sigh as he pulled his head back and closed his eyes.

David had always been skilled at making him come apart with his mouth only, but this time, the sensation felt stronger, different, and Tony shortly wondered if that was simply an effect of the change he’d gone through. But as looked back down at David, he was shocked to find out why this time it felt so different; David’s tongue was longer than any human’s and split down the middle into a fork, each end moving independently and wrapping around Tony’s cock as fingers would.

That explained the intensified pleasure, and while David’s familiar smirk was still there annoyingly, Tony had to concede he didn’t mind it as much if it meant getting this in return.

“It’s nice that I don’t have to hide myself anymore.” He said, never stopping his work. “Having to keep this from you was getting quite tiresome. I knew you would appreciate it.”

It got to the point where Tony was seeing stars in the corner of his eyes, tipping his head back with a sigh. David’s voice in his head continued to encourage him, never having to pause to speak aloud and stop what he was doing, which Tony greatly appreciated. 

When Tony finally came down his warm throat it took him a moment to remember how to speak. David had never disappointed, but that had been a whole new level of ecstasy. Which is when something occurred to him.

"Wait." Tony said. "Am I… do I look like that?"

David just smiled as they both got up. "Why don't you see for yourself?" He suggested.

They walked over to the mirror, and the first thing Tony noticed was that he looked even paler than he had before he'd passed out, or died, rather. But the feeling of weakness and light-headedness was gone. The colour of his eyes flickered between his usual brown and total darkness; as he stared at his reflection every time a particular emotion emerged from the whirlwind he was still experiencing, the latter would appear, along with bulging veins around his eyes. He noticed his nails were now sharp enough to draw blood if he tightened his fist hard enough, but the blood disappeared, and the cuts healed over almost immediately.  

As he went to open his mouth, he leaned closer when he noticed that his canine teeth had elongated and were pointier and also that his tongue was forked. When he spoke, he found his words slurred.

"Damn it, even talking is difficult with this!" He huffed. "How am I supposed to get used to this?"

He could recognise why the other parts of his transformation would be useful for working for someone like David. He was stronger. He could be intimidating. And he appreciated that; anything that helped him do his job. It was going to take some getting used to, but he was okay with that. What he was struggling with most of all was finding a reason why his split tongue could be useful, but so far, he had found none.

"Have you forgotten what I showed you just a few moments ago?" David answered as if reading his mind, something Tony had no doubt he was capable of.

Tony turned to him. "That's it? The only purpose you have for it is…"

"You're not complaining, are you?"

"No." He assured. "I… I am grateful for this. All of it. I-I'm glad you see me as worthy."

David smiled and walked closer to him, cupping his cheek and making him lean into his touch. Tony fell to his knees, completely overwhelmed, as it started to sink in that he truly was David's forever.

"You can thank me by putting your tongue to good use," David suggested. He was already hard from just watching Tony come apart minutes earlier and stroked himself a few times while Tony waited patiently for him to move closer, knowing better than to take initiative.

David didn’t make him wait long, grabbing the back of his head and pulling Tony where he needed him, but when he started to move his tongue the way he usually would, Tony immediately became frustrated. He didn't have his usual precision, but he did recognise the appeal in one half of his tongue going in a different direction. However, to his relief, David didn't seem bothered by his lack of skill. He seemed to have no issue with letting this take as long as it needed to.

It took Tony a moment, but eventually, he was able to make long double strokes down his length. He practised that for a while, learning as he went how to tighten the ends of his tongue around David to have him make the softest noises of pleasure.

Only then did Tony start to take him in his mouth, slowly at first, the way he always liked it. He did so without breaking his eye contact with David, wanting him to know he was ready and willing to serve him in any way he asked. Then he took him deeper, adjusting to the way his forked tongue felt and using his hand to cover what his mouth couldn't.

"There, you're getting it now." David encouraged, fiercely grabbing Tony's hair, and keeping him in place. "But you can do better." David then lowered his hand to the back of his head, pulling him closer forcefully and making him gag a little, the habit of respiring persisting at first, but he didn't cease his motions. Tony worked harder, humming in encouragement, incredibly pleased by the fact that he no longer needed to breathe and could keep this going for as long as David wanted to.

When David came, with a few short thrusts into his mouth, Tony swallowed every drop, taking the time to clean him up with his tongue, now with more efficiency, but not without maintaining his appreciation. 

"Such a fast learner." David praised, cupping his cheek while Tony looked up docilely. "I knew you were my favourite for a reason."

Somehow, Renee was more afraid of this than she had been on the night she filmed the video that was in the laptop she was carrying, clenched hard in her tense arms. She was going to her superiors, both of whom were also trusted friends, to confront them about something that went against everything they believed. More than that, she was about to shatter Michelle's world, and even though she must have noticed the changes in her husband, Renee knew she wasn't ready for the truth behind them. But she knew in her heart that she had to tell them. Because if this went on any longer, the consequences could be catastrophic.

"Wait, you said this was about Emerson. Why isn't Tony here?" Larry asked as he took a seat across from him in the small meeting room she'd called them to. Michelle also looked confused as she did similarly.

"I… " Renee sighed, hating that Michelle already seemed upset by the mention of his name. Maybe this wasn't going to surprise her as much as she thought. "I'll explain."

She checked behind her again, somehow worried that Tony could see her and hear her at all times. She'd pointedly avoided him today, and even when they'd walked past each other, she hadn't met his eyes.

Renee placed her laptop on the table and opened it, pausing the video. "I followed Tony when he left the FBI last night." She confessed.

Larry squinted at her. "Why?"

"Because… because I had a hunch that he wasn't really meeting up with Allens. And I was right." Renee reminded herself to breathe, keeping her voice steady. "I tracked him down to a motel in Rosemont. And…" She bit her lip. "Let me just show you."

Michelle looked at her with confusion and worry as she turned the laptop around and hit play. She'd watched the footage herself so many times, so she had practically memorised the order of things here. But she didn't need her memory to know when Michelle saw the part of the video that revealed Tony as the person Emerson was kissing and slowly stripping off his clothes.

She shook her head, and Larry appeared both apologetic for Michelle and angry at Tony.

"Records show that he and Emerson have booked rooms at that motel under the same sets of aliases over twenty times since he got back. The times line up exactly with all of Tony's 'outings'." She still couldn't quite believe it. What had Emerson done to Tony to make him so dependent on him like a drug? As absurd as it had sounded, Bill's devil theory seemed to be the only thing that made sense. "It's… it's like he's addicted to him." She reasoned out loud.

She took a breath, ready for the final reveal, the proof that something was very wrong here and of higher importance than Tony cheating and leaking information, but was soon met with static. 

"No… " She quickly scrubbed the video trying to see if she'd somehow missed it, but the frames she was looking for weren't there. "No, that's not right." Renee tried to think if anybody had access to her computer today but then realised it wouldn't have taken much for someone, likely Tony, to have edited the clip.

But just as she tried to explain that there was more to this video, Michelle shook her head and stood from the chair. She ran a hand through her hair and started to pace back and forth, her eyes intermittently returning to the pictures on the screen. Larry looked at her, concerned.

"What did Emerson give him in three months that I couldn't give him in three years?" She asked, her voice wavering.

"You gave him everything he could have wanted, Michelle." Larry reassured her, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder, and she leaned into his touch. "Don't blame yourself."

Renee watched the comforting scene before her and hated that she was about to make this worse. "There's one more thing." She reluctantly revealed, but when Michelle turned to look at her, there were tears in her eyes. "I don't care. I've seen enough."

"I..." Renee took in a breath. "I know this is going to sound insane. I have- I had proof, but it's gone. So you're going to have to trust me because I know what I saw."

Larry scoffed. "Besides the affair with someone on the FBI's most-wanted list? What could possibly be more of a shock than that?"

She steeled her nerves, remembering that feeling when she was about to tell something she knew to be true to people she knew wouldn't believe her. She just hoped it'd end differently this one time, for all of their sakes. "David Emerson isn't human. He's… he's one of the many embodiments of Satan on earth."

They both squinted at her. "What?"

"It's not a figure of speech, he truly is the personification of the devil. I know it sounds insane, and I'm still struggling to accept it myself, but you have to believe me." She pleaded. "I've spoken with a priest, and we might be in danger-"

"You discussed classified information with a priest?!" Larry exclaimed, completely glossing over her warning.

"Where else was I supposed to go?" Renee yelled. "Besides, it's alright, I trust him. He's my uncle. But that's not the point. Emerson made the evidence disappear, but believe me, it was there. If you'd seen it… you'd sense it, too; something feels wrong about him. It's inhuman." She wondered how Tony could stand to be near him with the energy Emerson gave off. Maybe, she supposed, it was like cigarette smoke. It smelt disgusting to those who didn't smoke, but people could become addicted to it to the point where they couldn't go without one for long periods, even though they knew it would kill them.

"I told him about Tony's changes, and we agree that all signs point to David Emerson being Satan incarnate and that everybody who works for him, including Tony, is a demon. It's the only way to explain everything that's been happening." She took a breath, and then her face and voice softened as she met their stern eyes. "Please believe me." She begged them.

But Michelle shook her head. "Why are you making excuses for him?"

Renee just looked at her shocked. "I'm not justifying it, I'm trying to warn you that he's not safe to be around!" She went to continue, but Larry cut her off. "For God's sake, Renee, she just found out her husband cheated on her, enough with this Satanic crap."

"Michelle… I wouldn't joke about this." Renee pleaded, and Michelle realised she must really believe in the nonsense she was telling her. She had no idea Renee was that extremely religious, so of course, she started worrying she had been drugged or something. It wasn't that she wanted to be dismissive, but Michelle didn't want nor need Renee trying to soften the blow about something she should have been smart enough to see. Renee didn't need to be involved in this. She appreciated her honesty and the fact that she'd told her what she clearly thought was true, but it wasn't her place to decide why Tony had done it. It also wasn’t a good idea for Renee to confront Emerson or Tony about it; she would hate for her to be endangered for trying to protect her. Michelle at least knew Tony wouldn’t hurt her - at least not sober - but at this rate, who knew if he would hurt Renee or someone else?

"It would explain why he's been so volatile in the field lately, and it would explain why he's so devoted to Emerson because he's done something to him! As unlikely as it might sound to you it's the only explanation that makes sense." Renee was out of breath by this point, but it was clear that neither of them were receptive to her information. Michelle was staring off distantly, either too shell-shocked by the revelation or ignoring her for daring to try to explain why it might have happened. Perhaps a bit of both. Larry's expression had softened a little, his eyes flickering to Michelle.

"Renee… I think you need to go to the clinic." Larry then said, turning to her. His annoyance was gone and replaced with the tone one would use for a toddler having a tantrum. "We'll get you checked out, and you'll feel better in no time."

She blinked at him a few times, her mouth agape. "Oh my God, you think I'm crazy."

"I'm sure your uncle knows his Bible stories inside and out, but that's all they are, stories." He said calmly. "I think you just need a good night's sleep, and then maybe you should talk to someone a little more qualified to help you with your hallucinations."

Renee huffed, used by now to people dismissing her, but it never had made it any less painful. "Just because you don't believe me, it doesn't mean I need to be committed." 

Michelle seemed like she wanted to say something to defend her but couldn't find the words and was far too caught up in processing what she'd just been told. Renee looked between them with a scowl before storming out of the room and slamming the door behind her.

If they didn't believe her, then she would face Emerson on her own. Because even if they didn't want to accept what she saw, she did, and she was going to do everything in her power to protect them.

Bright lights still hurt him, but he knew from experience he would be totally back to normal soon. David had told him it was okay for him to make a reappearance since Tony knew the truth now, but he had yet to see him around.

"Damian?"

Speaking of.

"Yes?" He responded, then he noticed the way Tony was staring at him, leaning in closer to inspect his face. He just smirked at Tony's expression of disbelief. "You remember me." He realised and watched as Tony moved around to make sure his eyes followed him. 

"Of course I do. I watched you die!"

Damian smirked. "Oh, you did more than just watch."

"How?" He asked. "I don't-"

Damian smiled as he rested a hand on Tony's shoulder. "Let's have this chat somewhere more private."

They took a seat inside a small room David usually used for meeting clients. Tony still found himself staring at Damian's eye, trying to see if he could find a sign that what he'd seen David do to him was real.

Damian huffed. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Sorry." Tony said sheepishly, immediately looking down.

"How are you handling the change?" Damian asked after a beat, surprisingly kindly.

Tony shrugged. "Well I can talk without slurring my words now, so that's a start. I still find myself getting angry. A lot."

Damian chuckled. "I'm sure David will enjoy using that before it settles down." 

"You want to tell me what happened?" Tony finally asked what he was burning to know, and Damian nodded. "Let's start from the beginning. I hope you don't honestly think we didn't notice you when you walked in on our conversation. Your heart was beating so loudly we could have heard it from miles away."

"You were right. We were talking about you." He revealed. "I had made a few comments David did not like, and he had to remind me not to doubt his judgement."

"You knew, didn't you?" Tony said in disbelief. "You knew I was still working for the FBI."

Damian grinned. "Oh, Tony. I knew about your mission before your boss even thought about it."

Tony looked at him, puzzled. "What does that even mean?"

"I can see into the future." Damian said as simply as if he was discussing the weather. "And there's this running joke between me and David. When I bother him too much with my visions, he will take my eyes out. Funnily enough, it does work. Until I heal, my visions stop. When they get too overwhelming, I've been known to ask him to take them out."

The thought of someone wanting to get mutilated like that made Tony shudder. Even if it was to avoid pain, it freaked him out how carelessly Damian could talk about that.

"David is always happy to help me out, but he usually likes to make sure he gets all the information from my visions before he does so. I don't mind since it is my job to help him, after all." He added. "Anyway, David figured he had the perfect way to test your loyalty."

"Killing you was a test?" Tony asked, and his shock made Damian chuckle. "David would never have let you do that to me if it would have had any lasting effect."

"Why did he do it?" He asked, shaking his head. "It was so horribly unnecessary for you to die like that."

"You're so young." Damian said with a smile that Tony wasn't sure how to interpret. The sentence itself sounded almost like an insult, but then there was that look in Damian's eyes that almost seemed like envy. "Hold on to that sense of surprise. It'll be gone before you know it. When you live long enough, you get to the point where you've seen everything, and nothing fazes you anymore." Tony was pitiful for the sadness in Damian's voice. While the thought of serving David forever made him overjoyed, he recognised now that being immortal didn't always have its perks.

Then the corner of his mouth upturned. "But I have to say, I haven't had my brains blown out like that in a long time. I should thank David later for giving me such a thrill."

He stopped staring into space and turned back to Tony. "Of course, it was a test, and you passed with flying colours." He smiled. "Still, I couldn't exactly come back the next day pretending nothing had happened. I mean, I could have, it would have been funny to fuck with your head like that, but David vetoed that."

Tony nodded in understanding. "So why are you back now?" He asked, and Damian shrugged."I saw David would have talked with you by now, so I made my way back."

Tony found that he still couldn't stop looking at him, almost desperate to find a mark, a bruise, something to indicate that what he had done was real and that he should feel bad about it. But, neither the physical sign nor the guilt could be found.

Still, Tony recognised that although his emotions had been out-of-whack since being turned, he felt a small sense of relief for his past self, who had replayed the moment he'd fired the gun over and over again. However, having Damian around still made that conflicting. So if Tony was going to spend the rest of eternity with Damian around then they needed to clear the air.

"So, do you believe me now?" Tony asked. "That I'm not going to hurt David?"

"Oh, you are." Damian replied matter-of-factly.

"I'm not! I wouldn't–" Tony tried to protest, but Damian shook his head. "Indirectly, maybe, but it will happen. Trust me, I'm good at knowing things that have yet to come. I have seen it happen."

"And David knows that?"

Damian smiled. "David and I go back a long time," he said, and by the look on his face, Tony knew that was an understatement, "and he knows about my gift. I have hardly ever been wrong in millennia." He sighed. "I know he's crazy about you now, but before you came along, I was his right-hand man."

Tony furrowed his brow. "Then… Why would David not listen to you?"

Damian’s lips thinned. "I've asked myself that same question a lot, and I've asked him, too, to no avail. I think even he doesn't know the answer to that question."

"You're special to him in ways even I struggle to understand. Really, I told him I thought you were a waste of time." He smirked. "No hard feelings, of course." 

Suddenly, the smirk disappeared, and Tony recognised that Damian still didn't trust him. "But let me be very clear, if you do anything to hurt him, I will make you pay for it. You think you know pain because you died once? You know nothing."

Tony nodded respectfully. He was right. He didn't know anything about immortality or what it felt like to serve David for eternity. Not the way Damian did. It would take him some time to fully grasp that. However, it was clear that Damian would always be ready to protect David, no matter what, even if he wasn't the favourite anymore.

And that was something Tony definitely understood.

Larry woke to the sound of someone knocking on his door. The knocks were insistent but, at the same time, hesitant, like the person wasn't sure if they should keep doing it. He eyed the clock beside his bed. It was about eleven; he'd gone to bed early after working the night shift the day before. Larry threw a robe over his boxers and grabbed his gun out of habit. He didn't think it was anybody dangerous, but he could never be sure. It seemed Renee’s baseless paranoia had been getting to him.

The rain was audible against the windows, so he hoped whoever was out there hadn't been standing for too long. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a black cat in the driveway, seemingly unbothered by the rain. It must be a neighbour's.

When he made it to the door, his anxiety was replaced with concern as he saw the shadow of the person outside his door. He placed the gun on the side table and unlocked the door, finding Michelle standing teary-eyed with dripping wet hair in her pyjamas. The veranda of his porch obviously hadn't been enough to keep her dry.

"Michelle?"

"I… I didn't know where else to go." She said apologetically.

"Come in. It's freezing," Larry said worriedly, standing aside. "What's wrong?" He asked, shutting the door behind her.

"H-He didn't notice," Michelle said in a very small voice. "I… I left him, and he didn't notice."

He gave her a consoling look and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly and feeling her sob against him. She was shaking from being so cold and upset.

"I'm sorry," Larry murmured. "I'm sorry, Michelle."

Somehow, he felt like this had been a long time coming. A part of him that he'd tried to keep deeply buried ever since Michelle came to the FBI couldn't help but be glad for her getting out of that situation. She didn't deserve that. She deserved so much better. And the fact that she'd come to him of all people, had to mean something. However, he had to wonder whether Renee would have been her first option if it weren't for their… disagreement over David Emerson’s nature. But the details of that didn't matter now. He didn't need to try and analyse why she'd decided to come here. He just needed to be there for her and live up to whatever expectations she had.

At some point, Michelle pulled back, wiping her eyes. 

"You're freezing. You can use my shower if you want, and I'll throw your clothes in the dryer." He offered.

She shook her head, seemingly still worried about imposing.

"Use the hairdryer, at least." He insisted. "You'll catch something." 

Michelle made a so-so motion with her head before quietly agreeing. He led her to the bathroom and showed her where it was. If she continued to cry while she dried her hair, he didn't hear it, but her eyes seemed more bloodshot than they had been before when she came out. He took the opportunity to grab a blanket and place it over her shoulders before guiding her to sit on the couch.

"I can make you something warm to drink. I've got decaf, black tea, green tea, chai..." Larry stopped listing off beverages when he noticed she still seemed very spaced out. "Something a little stronger?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yeah." She whispered.

He grabbed two small glasses and the bottle of port he had opened recently, trying to ignore the fact that it was his ex-wife's favourite. At the very least, it would warm her up a little. But he didn't want her to drink too much, given how emotional she was right now and because she was likely driving home.

Or maybe, he let himself hope, she'd already decided that she wasn't going anywhere.

Larry sat beside her and watched as Michelle downed half the glass in a single gulp. God, how long had she been suffering like this?

They drank for a few moments in silence before Michelle finally spoke.

"It's..." Michelle sighed, tracing the rim of her wine glass without allowing the blanket he'd draped over her shoulders to move. "It's like he's not even there anymore. I don't feel him next to me in bed. I… I talk to him, and it's like I'm talking to a brick wall. As much as it hurts to say this, he might as well have died on that mission."

What hurt more was hearing how upset she was, Larry thought to himself. He shouldered some of the blame for what had happened. Maybe he should have seen that Almeida wasn't ready for a mission like this. At the same time, his record had shown that he was. He'd been undercover many times before David Emerson, so what had been so different here? What had crossed the line so much that the man was willing to shut out his wife?

She sniffled. "It all makes sense now, though. I… obviously Emerson was something for him that I couldn't be."

You're an incredible person and Almeida's an idiot for doing this to you, he wanted to say. He wasn't going to say things like that about her husband in front of her, though. He'd been divorced once, so he understood the nature of those complex feelings all too well. He didn't want to make any moves here. He was there for her as a friend and her boss but nothing more. She didn't need this right now.

At the same time, he couldn't ignore the fact that her hand had moved on the couch to touch his.

"Look, I'm sure this is the last thing you want to think about, but if you want… we can kill two birds with one stone. We'll follow Tony the next time he meets up with Emerson and have him arrested." He offered. "Or if you don't want it to be done publicly, then we'll give you the chance to confront him about it in a holding room. That way you don't have to worry about him hurting you."

She shook her head. "Even then, what's the point? It's not going to change the fact that he abandoned me."

"Look, I don't know what happened to Tony out there. I don't know what's made him do this, but what I do know is that you haven't done anything wrong, Michelle. You supported him after that mission. You were there for him in every way. If he couldn't see that then..." He trailed off as he noticed she was looking up at him with fondness in her teary eyes. She was very close to him now.

"Michelle." He whispered, just inches from her lips.

She leaned in for a kiss, and he tasted a hint of wine on her breath. He wanted to resist. He wanted to pull back and tell her that she wasn't thinking straight. But at the same time, he could feel such a sense of need from her. He could feel just how lonely she'd been, how many times Tony had rejected her physically and emotionally, and if he could be there to satisfy those needs for her, then why shouldn't he be?

Michelle paused, suddenly drawing back as though she regretted what she'd just done. He didn't want her to, so without thinking, he cupped her cheek and pulled her lips to his. She sighed, reciprocating eagerly. Before he knew it, she was sitting in his lap, and their bodies were pressed together. He dropped his mouth to kiss her jaw and her neck as she started to grind against him. 

Larry couldn't deny how many times he'd thought about this, but at the same time, he was aware she likely hadn't considered it for nearly as long. However, as his hands tentatively rested at her sides and she swiftly directed them under her sweatshirt to her breasts, he realised that maybe that wasn't true. He brushed both of his thumbs over her nipples, and she arched into his touch before grabbing the hem of her sweatshirt.

"Wait." He uttered, making her tilt her head in confusion. She was heaving, her lips puffy from kissing. "Are you sure? We don't have to-"

"N-No." Michelle said, shaking her head and meeting his eyes earnestly. "I know you won't hurt me. I… I know you'll listen to me."

He understood that she trusted him completely and let her take her top off and toss it next to the blanket beside them, using his mouth and his hands to touch her chest now. Michelle hadn't lost her rhythm, so he'd grown very hard beneath her now. Suddenly, he wasn't so worried she was cold anymore.

"Bed?" 

She nodded, and he picked her up, giving her a second to wrap her legs around his waist. The rain was louder now, but all he could focus on was the sound of her breathing heavily as she sucked at his collarbone. Larry gently lowered her onto the bed, covering her body with his. Her hands had crept lower and were yanking his boxers down. He shrugged his robe off, and Michelle pulled the elastic of her sweatpants down along with her underwear so she was bare before him. Larry stopped to stare at her appreciatively as he hovered over her.

"God, you're beautiful." He whispered before leaning down so he could kiss her again.

They fell to their sides, their hands roaming over each other's bodies. He took a moment to look into her eyes again, confirming she didn't have misgivings. There was a look of deep lust and vulnerability that quickly assuaged those worries. Larry had to admit he was also a little nervous for his own reasons. He hadn't been with anyone since his divorce over a year ago, so he hoped he wouldn't disappoint her tonight.

Her eyes were beautiful. Larry wondered with scorn whether Tony had bothered to look into them recently. She hooked a leg over his hip, slowly taking his hand and placing it between her legs. He slid two of his fingers down and moaned quietly as he noticed how wet she was. Larry started to tease her open slowly, loving the way she hummed in approval when he brushed her clit. One of her hands grabbed his bicep, and the other moved to join his. She bucked up against him when he pushed his fingers inside of her and started nuzzling her neck.

"There." Michelle whispered. "Right there." 

He obliged, winding her up a little more with his pace before finally increasing the speed. Larry didn't stop watching her face, watching how her eyes rolled back into her head as she murmured his name. His attention moved to her clit, and he applied more pressure until she came with a full-body shudder. She went to kiss him, but he preempted this by lifting her fingers to his mouth and sucking them gently. 

Michelle responded to that by straddling Larry and kissing him passionately, her breathing even faster now. She moved back, casting a long trail with her tongue from his chest down to his stomach. He felt his breath hitch when she started to stroke him, her eyes sultry. Larry whispered her name when she pressed her lips to his tip. Her hair tickled him slightly as she took more of him into her mouth whilst still touching him with her other hand. He groaned louder than he intended, and she looked up with a smirk before resuming her torture. 

As much as he was enjoying this, he understood that, above all else, she hadn't felt connected to Tony in so long. She hadn't felt a joint sense of intimacy. It didn't seem fair for her to pleasure him like this. She deserved not only to be loved back but also they deserved to experience this together. And at this rate, she was going to stop that from happening embarrassingly fast. When she came up for air, he said her name to get her attention, grabbing her shoulder.

"Let me get a condom." He breathed. 

Her eyes darkened, and she nodded.

Larry leaned over to his bedside drawer and passed Michelle the box. She took out a condom and tore open the wrapper. Michelle deftly rolled it over him, stroking him a few more times for good measure. She then shifted to slowly guide him inside of her, and she let out all of the air in her lungs, closing her eyes. After taking a second to adjust, she planted her hands on either side of him and leaned down. Larry grabbed her wrist with one hand, using the other to cup her cheek and make eye contact with her.

Michelle started to roll her hips forward, and she let out a whine.

"Fuck." He puffed, licking his lips at the concentrated expression on her face.

Their lips met messily, and she started to build up a tempo, making him groan in response. He shifted his hands to her lower back, helping her to move in time with his thrusts. Still, they didn't stop looking at each other, murmuring encouragements with every breath. Larry brushed her hair back so he could see her better. 

In fact, they were so in the moment that they were oblivious to the third person in the room.

David admired the sight with a smirk. He walked over to the head of the bed, running a hand down Michelle's back as she continued to ride him. She let out a pleasured cry, throwing her head back.

"Well…" He said to himself. "I can see why you like her so much, Tony."

He propped his cell against the bedside lamp, making sure the camera captured their faces.

–

She was already riddled with guilt. She couldn't give into the part of her brain that was so desperate to let herself feel loved and important to someone, even though she rationally knew she deserved it. Larry was so good to her. Too good to her when her marriage was in shambles, and she was here just to seek comfort because she couldn't stand sleeping next to her husband anymore. But that wasn't quite true, admittedly. As Tony had distanced himself from her, she'd found herself drifting closer to Larry, not out of desperation but out of genuine care and respect for him. This felt right. This felt like what she deserved. But she couldn't let herself have it. Something was holding her back.

What distracted her from her train of thought was a sudden change in Larry's demeanour. He had been holding her hips while she rode him, but now his grip was tighter, fiercer. If she wasn't mistaken, he was digging his nails in. The sounds coming from him sounded… angrier. It was like he no longer wanted this to be slow and respectful but simply wanted to take advantage of her vulnerability and get what he wanted out of her.

"Well, given that you're using him, don't you think that's fair?"

It wasn't Larry who said it, but the man sounded like he was near her. She tried to look around but was preempted by a hand on her neck. At first, she thought it was to keep her looking at him and remind her that he cared about her and was fully present in this. But then the hand started to tighten its grip beyond the point of being just for spicing things up a bit. Larry would have asked her if she was into this, though... right?

"You need this." The voice said again, in a way that made her skin crawl with shame. "Deep down, we both know you deserve to be hurt. You're betraying your husband after he spent such a long time away from you."

She wasn't sure who the voice belonged to, but couldn't deny that it was amplifying her remorse and the part of her heart that still ached for her husband.

So, if Larry was going to hurt her, then she wasn't going to stop him.

–

Larry noticed suddenly that one of his hands was resting around Michelle's neck instead of being at her waist. He couldn't remember moving it. The other hand felt sticky with what he guessed was blood. Had he been that into it, he'd harmed her?

"Shit." He muttered. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"N-No." She said roughly, a raw, raspy moan escaping her.

"What?"

"Do it again. Hurt me."

Michelle didn't sound particularly aroused by it. She sounded upset. She was much sweatier than before, her skin very flushed, and she was continuing to pump her hips even though he could feel he'd softened inside of her. And if he wasn't mistaken, she was crying. From physical or emotional pain, he didn't know. 

He lifted her head with his other hand to look at her. "I don't want to hurt you, Michelle. This… I don't want to do this to you."

"I deserve it." She said thickly.

"No, you don't." Larry rebutted emphatically.

He must have displayed great concern for her, and she seemed to react in shame.

"Well, that backfired a little, didn't it?" David uttered to himself, now back to watching them in his own body. The phone was still recording, but David was sure Tony wouldn't even make it to this part of the video; the message about what they were doing was very clear. But even if he did, he would simply explain to Tony that all he was doing here was seeing just how far Michelle would truly go if Larry wasn't such a sweet, vanilla man in bed. He would remind Tony that this was for him. 

She sat up and shifted so she was sitting on the edge of the bed, still oblivious to David's presence. Larry removed the condom and discarded it in the bin by his bed before joining Michelle, who had her hands in her lap and wouldn't look at him.

"Michelle, it's alright." He said tentatively. I-I shouldn't have forced-"

She shook her head. "You didn't force me. You haven't done anything wrong. You've done everything right for me in this whole mess." She sighed. "God, as if Tony doesn't hate me enough. If he finds out about this, I'm going to deserve whatever he does to me." She shook her head. "And now I've dragged you into this."

"You haven't dragged me into anything." He reassured. "Michelle, as… as awful as this sounds, if he was already having an affair, I don't think he's going to be as upset as you think. I think… I think you need to accept that he might just not want you anymore." He shrugged. "Although, I don't know how that could ever happen…" Larry let out a breath, not daring to meet her eyes even though he could sense her looking at him. "Because I do. I think you're incredible, and you deserve the world. You're one of the best agents I've ever worked with. I respect you and what you stand for so much. But more than that, you're honest, you're courageous, you're loyal to the people you care about, you're-"

He was interrupted by Michelle crushing his lips to hers with just as much passion as before. Larry flipped her over and kissed his way down her body like she had done to him. He paused, looking up at Michelle from between her thighs. She let out a breath and tipped her head back, and Larry made it his mission to show her in every way that she deserved the world.

David resumed the recording and watched him pleasure her for a little while longer until Michelle came with an unmistakably moved cry, one that would indicate to Tony that this was more than just some heat-of-the-moment fling. They kissed again after, with an intimacy and affection that went far beyond just lust. After pressing 'stop', he grabbed his phone and left the room.

He was going to show this to Tony, and then he would know once and for all that he belonged to him now.

Tony hummed approvingly as David kissed his neck. It was early morning, so neither of them had to be anywhere yet. There was something so softly intimate about it, and he wanted to cherish every moment. He was so lost in the warmth of David's touch that he disregarded the sound of a door being slammed open and frantic rummaging. Even David didn't seem too fazed or had at least used his intuition to determine it wasn't important. Based on a glance, the visitor was Damian.

At first, Tony thought Damian was just invading their privacy to ask David a question or do something otherwise trivial. But he was confused to suddenly find himself pulled from his position next to David and all but thrown against the wall, a hand around his neck. He looked furious, his eyes dark and his voice growling. Tony struggled to think of what he had to do with it and why Damian was audacious enough to attack him in front of David.

"Where the fuck did you put it?" Damian asked, oddly calmly, without a shred of the anger he was using to deprive him of oxygen and blood supply to his brain.

Tony furrowed his brow as best he could. "Put what?"

"The box you stole from me!"

It took Tony a moment to realise what he meant. Then he remembered; he'd gone through Damian's things after his supposed 'death', intending to take it with him when he brought the FBI in so he could return it to Damian's family. Obviously, that was no longer necessary. He'd just forgotten all about it since he'd been preoccupied with adjusting to his transformation.

Damian released him with a huff and started to search his drawers again, throwing clothes and items around without a care. Tony rolled his eyes.

"Third drawer. It's under a sweater." He recalled.

He watched as Damian eventually fished it out, looking incredibly relieved. He handled it with such tenderness, cradling it like a baby. "This is very important." Damian emphasised with a grouse, flashing his eyes. "Don't you dare touch it again, or I swear, I don't give a damn how much he cares about you, I will kill you, and you will stay dead this time."

"Alright, I won't." He said warily. "What's so important about it anyway?

"All the people I've cared about, that's what's in here." Damian huffed. "To explain this in terms you'd understand, I'm a guardian angel." Tony narrowed his eyes, confused. "Yes, a fallen angel, too, but that doesn't matter. Some humans are born with the gift of prophecy. In time, they find their way to me or some other angel with the sight, and we have to guide them towards fully understanding their gift and how to learn to use it. They're not many; I only ever match to a soul once every two hundred years, but for the moment I make contact with them, I care for them for the rest of their life until God takes them from me again." He spat out that name with a growl and anger in his eyes so strong that Tony was sure he could feel the ground underneath them shake. "Still, I'm not allowed to get too close to them, or it’ll cloud my visions and prevent me from helping them. It’s a fine balance. I have to watch from a distance and hope they're receptive to me, and I can meet them in dreams where they’ll see me, but I won’t. And after they die, I won't ever get to meet them again because I'm stuck on this miserable plane for eternity, so this is all I have left of them. This," he held up the box, "is full of items from all the people I've guided. Things that can't be replaced. Unlike you."

Tony nodded, understanding why he'd care so much about what he had dismissed as something trivial, finally comprehending its true importance. "I'm sorry, I won't get near it again." 

His expression softened slightly. "But thank you."

Tony furrowed his brow at his sincere expression. "What for?"

"When you thought I was dead, you wanted to get something you understood was important to me to my family. It was a noble gesture, if I had any." Damian said with a hint of bitterness, and Tony could finally place the emotion on his face as he looked between him and David one last time before leaving the room: envy.

Tony thought for a moment how it would feel to be so intimately involved in someone's life and be tasked with protecting them only to know that one day they would be gone forever. He imagined it would be the kind of pain only known by a widow or a parent who has lost a child except in Damian's case, he had to experience it over and over again. It sounded awful.

"He'll be alright, Tony." David said, snapping him out of his train of thought. "He's just protective. It's quite literally in his nature."

Tony nodded, looking back at him and realising how lucky he was to have David in his life. "Makes sense."

"Good. Now..." David purred with a smirk. "Where were we?"

David quietly entered the bedroom, watching as Tony responded immediately to his presence. He hadn't made a sound since he knew Tony could sense him. He blinked his eyes open, looking around, slightly on edge, but softened when he looked at him. Tony licked his lips, getting out of bed and kneeling before David without so much as a word but stopping when David firmly placed his hand on his shoulder.

"I'm afraid I didn't come here for that, Tony." He said seriously. "There's something you need to see."

He squinted at him, standing to meet his eye. "What?" 

"Haven't you noticed that someone's missing here?"

David watched as Tony clicked that Michelle wasn't there. It wasn't the first time David had visited him in the middle of the night like this, and they were always careful to be quiet when Michelle was there. Still, Tony didn't seem particularly bothered by her absence. 

"So what? Isn't it better for us?" He smirked. "This way, I can have you all for myself."

"Oh yeah? And while you get on your knees for me, who do you think your wife is doing the same for?"

"What are you saying?" The hurt in his voice only made David more eager to reveal the news to him. "Michelle would never-"

David pulled his phone from his pocket, opening the video and pausing it before passing it to him. Tony looked at him warily but took the device into his hands and played it.

"What is this?" He asked in disbelief, but he knew, even before the figure lifted her head to reveal her identity, Tony recognised that body, that back, usually pale but now covered in bleeding scratch marks: Michelle.

He might have rationalised what he was seeing and accepted that she was having an affair, considering he'd been sleeping with David for months. But that feeling of understanding soon faded as he heard the voice coming through beneath her screams of pleasure, a voice that Tony knew.

His eyes widened in anger as the camera moved to reveal just who his wife was riding. None other than their boss. Tony could see that he was not just resting his hand on her neck but squeezing and that she seemed to enjoy it, breathlessly begging him to choke her harder. Michelle had never asked him to do that, and in their last attempts at sex, when he had asked her the same, she'd refused, claiming it was something too violent for her to enjoy.

Tony's free hand clenched into a fist, and he wondered just how long that had been going on. Had it started while he was undercover? Had Larry taken advantage of her when she was alone and vulnerable, knowing full well he was in a position of power over her being her superior? How dare he? People like that were the scum of the earth for using someone’s weakness to get what they wanted. But Tony especially despised the person who was doing this to his wife.

But maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe this was something that went even further back. Was that the sole reason Larry had sent him undercover, so he could have Michelle all for himself?

David's following words were only throwing gasoline over the burning fire of Tony's anger. "Funny how when you asked her to hurt you, she wanted nothing to do with it, but the minute your boss offered, it was exactly what she wanted." 

He felt his breaths start to shudder and deepen. He wasn't just angry at them. He was angry at himself. He'd never liked Larry; he'd merely tolerated him for Michelle's sake. But if this was how she was returning the favour, then he wasn't going to keep pretending. He should have seen this coming; all those digs during the roleplay to prepare for his cover, the way he'd constantly reminded him how he'd abandoned his wife while he was conveniently there for her… from the day he arrived at the FBI, all Larry had done had been trying to get him out of the picture.

"When was this taken?" He asked, his voice full of disgust at what he was seeing.

"Less than an hour ago." David replied. "But if you ask me, this doesn't look like the first time they're doing this." He lied, fully knowing it was.

"He has to pay for this." Tony said gruffly. It wasn't even about their relationship. Tony knew they were over, had been ever since David had set eyes on him and decided Tony was going to be his. No, this was about Larry crossing a line and taking what was Tony's.

"Well, if you want to make sure Michelle knows who she belongs to, then all you need to do is get rid of the problem." David explained, almost gleeful as he watched Tony's expression become very determined. "Once she realises that, she'll know to never betray you again. She'll be yours again."

As a part of him wondered whether he even cared to be able to say Michelle was his when he truly had no use for her anymore, Tony promptly got dressed, and David could hear the low growl from the back of his throat. He met David's eyes with a look of gratitude, but at the same time, hesitance, like he needed his approval, his guidance to tell him how to react to this not-quite-unexpected situation. Every inch of Tony’s body shook with rage. He was a caged, feral animal desperate to break free. However, David recognised that even in such a heightened state, he still respected and displayed his loyalty to him, and it pleased him to no end.

"I'll be there to help you if you need me. But go on. You know what you need to do." David encouraged.

Tony nodded and stormed out of the room, and David had never been so proud of him like he was sicking a hunting dog on its wounded prey.

-

The lights were on in the house, confirming his suspicions that Larry was awake. He could hear two voices, not quite arguing but disagreeing over something. One voice got louder, and there were footsteps as though they were walking towards the door. Tony knocked loudly.

When the door opened, and Tony saw Michelle wearing nothing but a man’s robe, her lips puffy from kissing, her collarbones marked with lovebites, her hair a mess, her skin flushed in a way that only he should recognise, and her eyes wide with an immensely guilty look, he knew one thing and one thing only.

He wasn't just going to kill Larry.

He was going to make him suffer.

"It's been three months, Tony." David said one day. "And you only updated the FBI once, at the very beginning of your stay here."

Tony sighed. Being at the FBI felt like a lifetime ago now. And, he supposed, that was quite literally true. He wasn't the man he'd been when he'd left. It took a lot of conscious effort to remember that he was only supposed to be pretending to be close to David. But there was no need to pretend now. Really, there never had been.

"Yeah, and?"

David sighed, and Tony felt fear strike him. David looked disappointed. Had he done something wrong? Had he not proven himself enough?

"As much as I'd like you to stay… with such a long period away, I think they're quite worried about you." David explained. "Which means they're going to try to follow you. And that's not good for either of us, is it?"

Suddenly there was a surge of rage within Tony. He didn't want them anywhere near this. This was his home now, with David. He wouldn’t let them take it from him.

"I'll stop them." He said gruffly. "I won't let them get to you."

"Tony…" David said softly. "I think you need to go back. You need to give the FBI something that shows you've been investigating me so they won’t suspect anything."

Tony looked at him worriedly. "B-But what about you?"

"I'll make sure I'm nowhere near the compound when a raid eventually happens. We can plant some false yet plausible evidence." He reassured. "You'll call the FBI and tell them to move in on the compound. Some of my other people can be arrested to look more convincing, although they'll find their way out soon enough. They won't have enough to hold anyone."

The idea sounded fine, but what Tony really didn't like was the thought of where David would go. He would have to go back to the FBI and act like it was all over when it wasn't. His life with David had only just begun. Or so he had thought.

"I can't- I can't be without you anymore. I'm nothing without you, David. You can't leave me."

He caressed his face. "I won't. When the time is right, I'll reach out to you. You'll tell them that you're following up on the case privately, and they won't interfere because you'll make sure they know how upset you are at the fact that I escaped. You'll remind them that this is your case and you're only doing what any good agent would do." 

Tony trusted David. He did. But he already felt so lost by the prospect of being without David, even if only for a short while. Could he do this?

"W-Why do I need to go back?" He protested. "Why can't I just tell them I'm not who I used to be anymore? That I'm done working for them?" He tried insisting, but David smiled gently at him. "Because they'll want to come after us. They'll think about all the information you have and want to end you."

Despite all his newfound strength and immortality, David had warned him and made it clear that he could still die. Hell-forged weapons or holy objects were lethal to him and any other demons. The FBI might not exactly have them in their arsenal, but if they continued to look into David, there was a chance they might figure it out. More than that, they could still hurt David. And he couldn’t have that. But if he took control of the situation as David had suggested, became possessive about the case, and became difficult to work with, then he could make sure that didn't happen. He understood that on a rational level. To no one’s surprise, David had been right.

Still, his heart and soul just dreaded the thought of the time they would need to spend apart.

"More than that, this will show me that you're still loyal even when you're back in your old environment." David added, knowing nothing would convince Tony more than being under the impression that he was still being tested.

"Y-You're doubting me?"

"I never have, Tony." He was quick to say. "But it's one thing to serve me when I'm around. It's another to do so when you're with your wife."

He shook his head, meeting his eyes. "She's not the one I want to be with. You are."

David then passed him a burner phone. "I trust that. But for now, you're going to call your superior tonight. Tell him the FBI can move in because there's a large shipment of computer chips coming in. I'll make sure everything is in place. Can you do this for me, Tony?"

When he was asking like that, how could Tony refuse? This was for them. He trusted David. They would be together again soon enough. He took the phone in his hands.

It took a few rings before he picked up. "Hello?"

"Larry, it's me." Tony said, forcing his voice to sound low and alert as if he was hiding somewhere.

There was a pause. "Almeida? Jesus Christ, we thought Emerson had killed you-"

"I'm sorry." He said quietly, not needing to pretend to be nervous because he was genuinely terrified of what life without David meant. "He has bugs and people everywhere. He’s even more paranoid than we had been told. I never got a chance to be completely alone, even as I got closer to him, and he trusted me more. But I am now, and I have something. A shipment of computer chips. A big one. Tonight." He could hear David's voice in his head, guiding him and feeding him more details to give to Larry, and he obliged, repeating his words verbatim. 

"Michelle's going to be so relieved when I tell her you're okay." Larry said warmly, but Tony couldn't deny that just hearing her name come from his lips sparked jealousy he'd buried deep down. "I'll meet you at the agreed coordinates with a tac team. Be careful, alright?"

"I will." He said before hanging up.

"I-It's done." Tony then said, abandoning his ‘Agent Almeida’ voice and shaking, not because he was deceiving the FBI but because he wasn't ready to leave David. He couldn't. He felt purposeless without him now. "They'll be here soon. We need to… we need to split up and leave, so it doesn't look like we've been together. I… I have to leave."

As he went to move, David placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Tony." David reassured, tilting his chin up so he could look at him. "You'll come back to me. I know you will. And if you behave, I promise I will visit you."

Tony furrowed his brow. ."No, it’s not worth risking the FBI finding you.."

David just grinned. "Oh, don’t worry. They won’t see me."

"That's weird." Michelle commented, biting her lip as she peered outside the door only to find no one standing there. "You heard that knock, too, right?"

Larry felt an indescribable sense of unease but couldn't figure out why. "Yeah… maybe it was just the wind from the storm or that cat." He said, immediately disagreeing with his hypothesis, no matter how logical and sound it seemed. Renee came to mind, all the things she'd said about her dreams, but he shook his head, dismissing them. Now wasn’t the time to trust something that lacked tangible proof. Renee had been overworked, and it had resulted in irrational fear. That was all.

Still, the black cat was nowhere to be seen, and Larry found himself not entirely convinced it was nothing to worry about. Larry had never been one to trust superstitions, but there was something about that animal that gave him the creeps.

"Yeah…" She agreed unconvincingly. "You're probably right." 

She shut the door, and Tony waited until Michelle left the room, mentioning needing to clean herself up. Tony hated her smile, that happy, relaxed smile that was usually reserved for him only.

As soon as he heard the shower being turned on, he knew he could begin.

He stepped out of the shadow he'd been hiding in, feeling his form becoming solid again.

"Tony?" Larry asked, frozen in shock and subconsciously eyeing his gun on the counter. "How… How did you get in here?"

Tony put his hands on his hips. "Seems like I'm not the only one of us stepping into places we don't belong. My marriage, for example."

"Tony, I'm sorry, I-" He said pathetically. As Tony met his eyes, seeing the similar scratches and marks on his body that had been on Michelle’s, indicating that he had enjoyed himself just as much as she had, he felt all of his rage rise to the surface.

"Oh, you're not sorry." Tony growled, taking a step towards him. "You were planning this since the beginning of my undercover mission. You've been dying to have Michelle all for yourself while I was away! You confessed to that yourself. I was just too trusting, too blind to see what was right in front of me. This was all a big plan to get to her, so don't you dare tell me you're sorry!" He repeated, his voice loud and booming and turning into something more feral, like a growl. "But you will be once I'm through with you."

His eyes shifted from deep brown to onyx, and Larry took a shuddering breath. Tony's smile widened into a sneer, and two large fangs descended, extending into full view. If he wasn't mistaken, Tony's tongue was also forked, like a snake's. Which was when it hit Larry that he had much bigger problems than worrying about them being caught having an affair. Because now he believed every single word of what Renee had told him.

David Emerson was Satan, which meant…

"T-Tony?" Michelle asked, having reappeared with the robe still wrapped around her. But Tony wasn't about to explain anything to her; she would understand perfectly well in due time.

"Michelle, call the bureau-" Larry warned, and before he knew it, his legs were dangling off the ground. He flailed helplessly in Tony's chokehold, but it was far too strong. His movements started to slow, and Michelle's eyes widened as she noticed that Larry's face was turning purple.

"Stop it!" She screamed. "You're hurting him!"

"Oh, Michelle." He said her name with nothing short of revolt. "There was a time when I would have done anything you asked of me, no question asked." The veins in his arm bulged as he squeezed him tighter. "Back then, you never would have done this to me. Or maybe you were just better at hiding it."

She felt like she was glued to the ground, unable to say anything or do anything to stop him because she was both terrified of him and, unfortunately, everything he said was just an echo of her guilty conscience.

"Do you love him, Michelle?" Tony asked in a cold, malicious tone she'd never heard from him.

"W-What?"

Without loosening his hold on Larry, he turned to her, and she felt her blood run cold when she saw two gaping abysses where his eyes should be.

"I asked you if you loved him." He repeated calmly.

Her cheek twitched with both fear and anger. "I'd ask you the same question about Emerson, but we both know the answer to that." Michelle took in a shuddering breath, mustering her courage. "P-Put him down. Now."

"Fine." Tony agreed, letting Larry slump to the floor. He wheezed, gingerly rubbing the reddened mark on his neck.

Tony paused, and for a second, Michelle thought maybe she'd gotten through to him. But as she went to help Larry up, Tony suddenly drove his hand through Larry's chest, causing him to howl out gutturally. Crimson sprayed onto his face and white t-shirt. The radius of the blood stain increased rapidly, soaking the entirety of the fabric around his chest. He futilely attempted to pry Tony's hand out of him, but Tony simply smirked and, at a maddeningly slow pace, pulled his heart from his body.

"No!" She cried, clinging to the dining room table for support as she felt her knees give out.

The organ throbbed weakly in his blood-soaked hand, and Tony looked at it with the curiosity and fascination of a cat with a mouse it’d killed out of boredom. There was dark, viscous blood on his fingers, and she watched with disgust as he licked them clean.

"That's enough." A man said suddenly.

Michelle whipped her head around to find David Emerson standing behind her. With quivering fingers, she reached for her gun. She hadn't heard any windows break or doors open, any sign that he had entered the house. Which only confirmed to her more and more that everything she and Larry had believed adamantly was so far from the truth. They should have listened to Renee.

"You've done well, Tony." Emerson said, the tone of his voice like honey.

She watched Tony walk over to him, disregarding her and Larry entirely. Tony's eyes shifted back to their usual form, and she could see a level of vulnerability and lust there, as though Emerson’s praise was everything to him. It was a look she was familiar with. After all, once upon a time, she thought that that look had been reserved for her and her only.

Tony leaned into his touch with a quiet moan. "I'm so proud of you." Michelle saw how Tony lowered his head as if avoiding Emerson's gaze, but he seemed to notice, too, and he lifted Tony's head with a hand under his chin. The combination of Tony's docile eyes and Emerson's look of power made her skin crawl. He was too far gone. She knew that now. There was nothing he wouldn't do for him.

Emerson raised his wrist to his own mouth for a moment, and before he could even move it away, Tony grabbed it and sunk his fangs into a fresh wound. Michelle watched with disgust as he drank the blood like it was wine, his demeanour reminding her of a feral beast.

"You deserve it after working so hard." He purred, stroking his hair. 

"W-What are you?" Michelle asked, staring at Emerson in an effort to ignore the way he was possessively resting his hand on Tony's waist. He stayed silent, and she raised her gun so it was level with his chest. "What are you?" She gritted through her teeth, masking her terror. "What did you do to my husband?"

Emerson just grinned at her, unaffected by the threat of her gun. “I gave him more than you ever could.”

Fueled by her rage, Michelle fired, and Tony dashed in front of him protectively. That broke her heart the most. Regardless of what kind of monster Emerson had turned him into, he'd been willing to give his life for him. For a second, she thought she must not have hit either of them because her hand was shaking so much, and they both seemed just fine. Had the safety been on, and she hadn’t noticed, overwhelmed as she was?

But then Emerson coughed suddenly, bringing his hand to his mouth to spit something into it. Her eyes widened when he revealed the bullet. She took a step back as he walked towards her.

"I believe this belongs to you." He said, dropping the clean, warm bullet into her hand.

Determined to prove what she had just witnessed wrong, Michelle fired again and again, until she'd emptied the clip, but her only damage was six small holes in Emerson’s shirt.

Emerson only looked mildly bothered. "I just had this dry-cleaned." He muttered.

She did the only thing she could think of, which was to bolt, stopping only to grab her cell phone on the way. Every time she blinked, she saw Larry again, and she knew that if she didn't get out of there, she was going to end up like him. It was hard since she didn't know the layout of Larry's house well, but she eventually made it into the attic, shutting the door behind her and shoving a chair to try to jam the handle, but she knew it wouldn't hold for long. She needed help, but after three tries, all she could hear was the dial tone repeating over and over again. She was ignoring her calls.

"Damn it." She said, her voice cracking as she heard Renee's voicemail message. "Renee, you were right." She panted. He would find her soon, no doubt. "About everything. And I'm so, so sorry we didn't listen to you. But I need your help. Tony..." She paused to catch her breath but found herself hyperventilating faster and faster. "Tony killed Larry." She stifled a sob, sounding less and less composed with every word.

"You can run, but you can't hide, Michelle!" Emerson called, his voice sounding dangerously close.

"Emerson's here. They're going to kill me. Please, Renee, you're the only one I have left."

As she hung up, she gasped at the sound of a door opening, furniture crashing down and the feeling of someone pushing her against the wall. The light from the hallway cast a very sinister shadow over Emerson’s face. He was going to kill her for what she did to Tony, and she prayed he would be merciful. But to her surprise, he made no move to hurt her and just looked at her sweetly, almost admirably.

"You know... I'm sure Tony would forgive you if you only took the time to understand him." He explained gently. "I can give you both everything, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing."

Images flashed in her head of the dream she'd had, except this time, she was there kneeling before Emerson, serving him with as much devotion as Tony. She felt oddly drawn to it, oddly intrigued by the blackness of her own eyes, oddly attracted to the way Emerson was grabbing her, using her and Tony possessively. For a moment, nothing else mattered except Emerson, like her sole purpose in life was to worship him.

"Yes." Emerson encouraged softly, lifting her chin so she could look at him. 

She maintained eye contact with him, finding her thoughts slowly slipping away. Could she do it? Drop everything and be with Emerson? Belong to Emerson? If he was good enough for Tony, then maybe he was good enough for her, too…

The image was suddenly replaced by Larry's bloodied body, his screams deafening and harsh. She remembered seeing the coldness in Tony's eyes and the look of amusement on his face. 

And then she remembered that the man downstairs could not be considered her husband. Not anymore.

She took advantage of the fact that Emerson was seemingly trusting her right now and kneed him in the crotch. While it didn't incapacitate him as much as it would have a human, it gave her enough time to remember how to use her legs and bolt. If she could just get to the bedroom window, then she could get outside.

Michelle flinched at the piercing sound of the smoke alarm going off. She felt a gush of cold water on her skin and looked up to see the sprinkler system had been activated. Tony cried out in pain, almost as intensely as Larry had before. It took everything in her not to run downstairs and see if he was okay.

"Tony!" Emerson called, and Michelle was taken aback by the concern in his voice. He also sounded like he was in pain but mustering all of his energy to check on Tony and make sure he was okay. He really did care about him. He cared enough to prioritise saving him over punishing her, judging by the footsteps heading away from her.

Her phone buzzed, and she was relieved to see it was Renee.

"My uncle's on the roof. He poured holy water into the sprinkler system and short-circuited the smoke detector. I don't know how long it will last, so hurry." She explained. "I'm in the car out front. Where are you?"

Michelle wasn’t sure what to do. While, on paper, that plan made sense, she wasn't sure if Renee and her uncle realised that the holy water wasn't affecting Emerson nearly as much as it was affecting Tony. All she could hear was Tony’s agonising screams, but Emerson wasn’t exactly at the epitome of strength right now. He was frantically yelling and trying to get Tony to cover by the sounds of it. 

"Emerson’s trying to protect Tony. He might be a little incapacitated, but he’ll still kill me, I know it, especially since I just made him angry. I can't go through the front." As she stepped into the last bedroom of the house, she spotted the French doors to the balcony. "I'm coming out from the balcony."

"It's pouring. You'll slip and kill yourself!" Renee tried to warn her, but Michelle wouldn’t listen to her. "I don't have a choice." She said as she hung up. If she was going to die, then better this way than at Emerson's mercy.

Michelle coughed as she climbed out the window, feeling herself slide as she tried to scale down the pole of the platform onto the ground. There was so much rain, and the wind was freezing on her skin. The grass squelched under her bare feet, and she had to hold her bathrobe in place while she sprinted to the car.

In the corner of her eye, she spotted another figure. An older man in a black shirt and jeans carrying a small bag. Renee's uncle, she was guessing. He'd come from the front door which made her do a double-take.

"They're both gone. He wanted to protect his servant." He explained, yelling over the rain as they continued to run. Michelle could swear the screaming had gone on even while she’d climbed out the window, but she supposed instantaneous travel wasn’t a difficult task for the devil.

"Let’s go!" Renee called from the driver's seat.

They got in the car, and he handed her his jacket, for which Michelle thanked him. Renee took off immediately, the tires screeching as she did so. For a priest who would seemingly be well-versed in this area, he looked like he'd seen a ghost. He retrieved something from his kit, a small flask, which he downed in a single gulp.

"The blood of Christ." He explained, holding the flask out towards her, but she shook her head. It was a miracle she hadn't thrown up already when she still felt like she could smell Larry's blood.

Renee kept looking behind her nervously. They heard sirens in the distance.

"I'm going to get us back to the FBI. They're on their way to the house now, but I've got us a safe location to hide out in in the meantime."

"Renee, they're gone." Her uncle explained solemnly, but she shook her head, unwilling to just let that go. "We'll use the evidence to find them. They have to be stopped." She said determinedly. 

"You… you came to save me." Michelle said, after having sat there in silence for a moment, gratitude in her voice. "Even after I didn't believe you..."

Renee met her eyes in the rearview mirror. "I wasn't going to let them hurt you. I-I just wish I had come sooner." Michelle could tell Renee had been crying. "I'm so sorry, I know you cared about him."

"I’m sorry, too." She agreed, her lip pursed. "And now he’s dead because of me." She muttered.

"This isn’t your fault, Michelle." Renee insisted. "Even the three of us combined couldn’t have stopped him."

Michelle smiled slightly at Renee’s words, but it was going to take a while before she believed that.

Michelle finally felt her tears start to slide down her face, now knowing that she'd lost Tony and Larry for good. She thought back to that fateful day when Larry had proposed Tony go undercover, and she wished to God she'd fought harder.

Because if he had never met Emerson, then none of this would have happened.

Tony had only been away from David for a few days now, but it felt like aeons. Every part of his body longed for his touch again. He heard his reassurances in his head, which did help, but now he had to focus on keeping up his facade. Larry walked into the holding room he'd been directed to and sat across from him.

"How are you doing?" He asked with a smile Tony had long stopped believing was genuine. Tony wondered whether he was just asking this to be polite. 

"I'm alright." He replied shortly. "Tired."

Larry nodded. "I understand, but we really need to get as many details as possible from you while your memory is fresh."

"Yeah. Got it." Tony reminded himself to breathe. He was taken back to the initial roleplay he'd had with Larry before going undercover and meeting David, and vividly recalled the tension. He didn't see this going any differently, although now he wasn't tense because of the anxiety preceding the mission, he was tense because he had to remember that he wasn't supposed to give any indication that he really was loyal to and loved David. He had to act like he was glad to be back. Which he wasn't. He had to act like David was some repulsive criminal and not the man who he would give his life for, over and over again.

Most of all, he had to act like he was loyal to the FBI and his country, not the man who could command him to his knees in a heartbeat.

Larry switched on the recorder, stating the date and time and making him declare his identity. Before he'd met David, he would have enjoyed finally being able to say his rank and feel like the FBI was repaying him, but now he couldn't care less about retribution for his career.

They went over the mission's aim. Tony stated that everything he did in the lead-up was for his cover, including his inappropriate behaviour. He affirmed that he was sober now, which was true. He didn't think he'd ever feel a need to drink again now that he had a much better high to enjoy. He explained what had happened that night at the bar. He also had to postulate why the raid didn't go to plan and justified it with David's insane paranoia about trust, which the FBI already knew of. Tony then went on to act angry and say that he wanted to hunt David down if it was the last thing he did, ensuring that Larry believed he was eager to keep following up on the mission. He also had to reiterate why he had made little to no contact with the FBI during his time undercover.

"Michelle never wanted to believe that you were dead." Larry commented with a sad smile. "She had faith that Emerson was just distrustful of newcomers, and that's why you didn't risk reaching out." Larry said this with suspicion, like he didn't agree with that theory. "Suppose she was right. Makes sense. She is your wife after all."

Tony tensed. What the hell was he getting at here? Did he really need to remind him at every turn that he'd left his wife without any notice and a proper goodbye? Michelle would have gotten over that, she understood what it was for. But maybe Larry had made sure that she didn't, that she had every right to be upset so he could slip right in and be her hero.

"I'm sure you would have liked it that way, wouldn't you?" Tony muttered.

"What did you just say?" Larry asked, having the nerve to sound offended and surprised.

"You heard me. It was awfully convenient for you while I was gone, wasn't it?" He gave him a dirty look. "You could be nice and close to Michelle without having me in the way. Did you give her the idea? That I was dead?"

Larry lifted a shoulder nervously. "We had to consider the possibility, Almeida."

"Yeah, but you jumped to that conclusion pretty quickly, though, didn't you?"

He huffed. "Well, how the hell were we supposed to know? You disappeared. You didn't give me a single update. And the two that you did give me were barely enough."

"I told you Emerson watched me like a hawk." Tony insisted. "I couldn't get away from him. We went over this. I think it's easier for both of us if we just speed things along."

Thankfully, Larry didn't seem to be bothered by that. "Fine." He said stiffly. "It's on record that you felt it was a risk to your cover to contact the FBI." Larry typed a few things on his computer before tensing his jaw. "Were you intimate with the target?" Larry asked, seemingly as uncomfortable as he was.

Tony squinted at him. "Was I what ?"

"Did you have sexual relations with Emerson?" He clarified.

"You know me, Larry. I'm a government agent and a married man. Emerson is a fucking criminal." Tony tried his hardest to keep his anger at bay but couldn’t help getting audibly mad. "Why the hell would you even ask me that?"

He quirked a brow, and Tony realised he'd gotten very defensive. "That's not answering my question. You got a tattoo to show your loyalty to him. You did whatever you had to do because we knew going in that Emerson's a sceptic." He pointed out. "It's not a stretch to think you would go that far. And it's fine. We just need the truth on record."

Tony sighed. He hadn't wanted to lie, but he couldn't give him any reason to suspect that he might have feelings towards David or that these last few months had been the best of his life. He figured it was a safe assumption to believe that his mandatory STD test would come back clean, so nobody should suspect a thing.

"It was nothing like that!" Tony answered, and a part of him hurt at the pretend disgust in his voice. He wanted to be able to scream it for all to hear, that, yes, he had been chosen by David, deemed worthy of him. But he couldn't risk making Larry suspicious. "I was loyal to him, and I had to prove myself, but it never went that far."

As usual, he felt a sudden need to keep his guard up around Larry, not-so pleasantly reminded that Michelle had spent a lot of time around him these past few months. Was Larry trying to fish for information? Had he planted some idea in Michelle's head that he'd betray her with all that time away? That the reason why he hadn't communicated to the FBI was that he'd been so deeply involved with Emerson? Tony consciously disregarded the fact that that was very much true. Was this yet another way for Larry to conveniently get between the two of them?

"You know, asking that is standard procedure for any undercover agent, Tony." Larry reminded him, breaking his train of thought. "I'm sure Michelle knew that might happen while you were gone. It's part of the job."

"I'm not lying, Larry." He said, squaring his jaw but maintaining a calm tone in his voice. "I did a lot of things for Emerson, but we didn't sleep together. Michelle and I talked about this before I left. If what you were saying was true, I wouldn't lie to her, either." It had been more of an unspoken discussion, but when it came to work, Michelle always understood and maintained her rationale. She trusted him. So he didn't need to explain himself to her, to Larry, or anyone, for that matter.

"Alright, then," Larry concluded, although Tony still wasn't sure he was fully convinced.

Michelle sighed as she shut the curtains. Although she was quite sick of being cooped up in the tiny Witness Protection unit, she couldn't bear to go back to her house. Not when she feared that she'd find every possible sign she should have seen of Tony's path to serving David long before he had the chance to hurt her or the people she cared about. That being said, she was sure that even if she had believed Renee upon her first suggestion that David Emerson was more than just a mercenary, she wouldn't have had the courage to face him. 

Today marked two weeks since they'd buried Larry, since she'd watched Renee hand his ex-wife the folded American flag that part of her wished had been for her. Rationally, she understood that despite their rough divorce, this woman had loved Larry, had known him for a long time and had likely been there in the early stages of his career. It also furthered her self-hatred, feeling entirely undeserving of something to honour Larry's life when she was the one who'd sent him to his death. She was the one who'd decided to go to Larry’s home, and risk Tony being angry at both of them. Of course, she couldn't have known that his anger would translate to murderous rage, but regardless, she got Larry involved in something she shouldn't have, and now he'd paid for it.

The cause of his death had been another point of stress since it was no simple murder case. She, Renee, and Bill had to debrief John Foerstel, one of the executive directors of the FBI, and try to convey the supernatural elements of the incident. But eventually, he’d come to accept it, at the very least based on the evidence presented, over their word. For their protection, they'd been placed in a small house together, with extensive security measures in place. Although Michelle didn't doubt that if Emerson and Tony were going to come after them, they wouldn't stand a chance; they'd either meet the same fate as Larry or join Tony as Emerson’s servants. The latter scared her more.

"Janis thinks we might have a lead on Emerson's location." Renee said, hanging up the phone. "If we can confirm he's far away enough, then maybe we can go home."

Michelle hummed in assent. In some ways, by being here, she'd been procrastinating her grief and instead focusing on the fear of Emerson’s return. It wasn't going to be easy trying to rebuild her life, however, she was grateful to have Renee there for her. Her uncle had also shared some insight about Emerson’s nature. It helped to be able to understand who he was and what he'd done, but it didn't make her feel much better.

"Someone's here to see you…" The guard said, looking white as a sheet.

"Anders, what's wrong?" Renee asked warily, reaching for her gun. "Are we in danger?" 

"It's… it's Agent Moss."

"What?" She squinted at him.

The agent stuttered, and Renee accused him of making some kind of cruel joke, but then they all became silent as Larry pushed past Anders and entered the house. As Michelle looked at him, she felt her heart leap in her chest. He looked tired, and his clothes were ragged, but otherwise, he seemed unharmed. She'd missed him so much. Her heart had ached for him more than he would ever know. 

But the image of his eviscerated body appeared in her mind again, just as it had every night since then, and her rationality returned in full swing. He wasn't real. Emerson had killed him, and now he was screwing with them again. All because she'd betrayed Tony. It didn't matter that he'd betrayed her first because, in Emerson's eyes, nobody, nobody, was allowed to do Tony any harm and get away with it. Hadn't she suffered enough? Hadn't she learnt whatever lesson he'd tried to teach her? She wasn't going to sit here and take this.

Michelle grabbed her gun and raised it. "I saw you die. You're... You're not real."

He looked at her wide-eyed. "Are you on drugs?! Michelle put the gun down."

"He… he killed you." She said very sadly, with tears in her eyes. "You… you can't be here. It's not possible. W-We buried you." 

"What are you talking about? Are you okay?" There was concern in his voice, and it sounded so genuine, but Michelle didn't know what to believe. "Tony, he- I saw-"

Larry smiled at her, pity in his eyes as he understood what she must have gone through. "It wasn't real-" He tried reassuring her, but she shook her head. "I know what I saw." Michelle insisted.

"Michelle, I'm here. It's me, I promise you. Whatever he showed you, it didn't happen." Larry explained. "He just wanted you to think I died so you couldn't stop them from taking me."

He reached out to touch her, and she jerked back immediately upon feeling how ice-cold his skin was. It wasn't just the physical sensation. She recognised it immediately as the first symptom of Tony's demise that she should have seen coming. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Michelle tightened her grip on the gun. "He's done something to you, hasn't he? He's sent you after me to finish the job."

"I-I escaped, Michelle. He kidnapped me for my information after creating the illusion-"

"Bullshit, you and Michelle were together." Renee said, cutting him off. "If Emerson wanted to know what the FBI knew, he could have asked both of you then and there."

Larry shook his head. "He needed me alone. He asked me everything I knew about his case, and I told him."

"Then why didn't he kill you?" Michelle asked, her voice wavering. 

"Because I ran." He explained, exasperated.

"But he didn't sense you or try to stop you?" Bill inquired sternly. He didn't seem to be buying it either. "More than that, if you were being tortured for information, why aren't you injured? One of the most common ways the devil manifests himself is by putting doubt in our hearts and making us believe in things that aren't true. We're not falling for it."

Michelle watched Larry's reaction carefully. She hadn't seen him lie before, and she didn't doubt he had a good poker face. It was something of a necessary skill for his career. But his eyes kept flitting back to her worriedly. It wasn't because he was expecting her to cover for him or stop Renee and Bill's questions; it was because he was concerned for her. 

"For every cut, every burn, every single thing they tried to do to hurt me, they healed me. It meant that they could torture me far longer than any usual human would have lasted. I've been in a cold, damp basement for the last month. I was in the middle of nowhere, I had to walk for miles until I got to a payphone and called a cab. That's why I'm cold for Christ's sake." He looked between them. "I escaped by stabbing Tony with one of the knives, one of the hell-forged knives he was using on me. Emerson was far more concerned with helping him than stopping me."

Michelle met Renee’s eyes at that detail. That, she did believe. He'd completely ceased his chase of her out of the house to instead protect Tony from the holy water. Bill and Renee both looked at her as though they wanted her verdict. Could she really believe him? Knowing what Emerson was capable of and that he was still probably far more powerful than she could fathom? Knowing that Tony despised her and still might want revenge?

Her train of thought was interrupted by Renee moving to stand between her and Larry, spraying him with a bottle of what she presumed was holy water. He blinked a few times, and they stood there in silence as the water dripped from his clothes onto the carpet. He looked like he was experiencing the very human discomfort of someone who had unluckily been caught in the rain on a walk.

He blinked a couple of times. "What the hell was that for?!"

"Is it burning?" Renee asked, not taking her eyes off him and standing between him and Michelle.

Larry gave her an are-you-serious look. "It's cold water. Why would it be burning?!"

"Okay, good." She said, moving away. "You're not a demon then."

Bill nodded. "I think it's safe to say he's telling the truth, Michelle."

There was a pause, and Larry still looked like he didn't want to spook her, but she closed the gap between them, placing her hands on his shoulders and moving them to cup his face. Their eyes met, and Michelle saw the same blue she usually did. Not a trace of onyx or anger in sight. They embraced, and the cold temperature was again jarring to her, but she tried her hardest to ignore it in favour of appreciating the fact that he was here.

"God, you're freezing." Michelle murmured, snaking her arms around his waist. "Get in the shower, and we’ll dry your clothes. You’ll catch something."

Larry smiled as he squeezed her back tighter, recognising he’d told her the same thing the last time they were together. "Everything's going to be okay. I'm here now."