Karen unlocked the door, immediately feeling a sense of unease. She hadn't exactly felt comfortable with Bill away doing Lord knows what, but this was a much stronger sensation than usual. Before she opened the door, she glanced at the windows beside her. Neither looked broken. It was both a blessing and a curse that their vacation home was so isolated. She could feel safe from the press hounding her for information about her son and from whoever was involved with the conspiracy that Bill was fighting. Still, it also meant that if someone tried to attack her, nobody would hear her scream. Karen tried to put that out of her mind as she walked inside and set the grocery bags down.
But her blood ran cold when she noticed dishes in the sink. Dishes that she certainly hadn't left.
Her mind went to the hunting rifles in the attic and her Glock in her handbag. She admittedly hadn't fired a gun in years, not since she was FBI. But if push came to shove, she would like to think her instincts hadn't left her.
She walked further into the house, hyper-aware of every piece of furniture that could be used as a hiding place. The table in the den revealed more clutter. She spotted needles. Bottles of pills. Other medical paraphernalia. She wished the place had security cameras. Maybe someone had been using it as a site to stash drugs while she and Bill hadn't been here. Maybe there were squatters.
Her eyes widened as she noticed someone collapsed on the couch. Early to mid-twenties. Dark, curly hair. Hispanic. Blood-stained shirt. Ashen skin. Not moving. Oh, God, was he dead?
Karen turned, intending to go back to her handbag and call Bill, but gasped at the sight of Jacob. He looked tired and very worried. She hadn't seen him in a long time. Years had passed since she had left his father. She had tried to reach out to Jacob when she and Bill had married, but even with their ability to search government records, they hadn't found him. Although, as of late, they had come to understand why he was so elusive. He had walked away from her and his father in his first year of medical school, having snapped from the academic pressure his father had laid on him and declared he was dropping out. She had been a coward. She hadn't been the best mother she could have been. All because she hadn't been brave enough to stand up to her husband. She hated that she had only left him after Jacob had. She had tried to keep it together for Jacob's sake, but it had backfired terribly. The pain of divorce would not have been nearly as bad as the pain of Jacob resenting her so much to the point of cutting her out.
But when she met her son's eyes, she didn't see the scornful, hurt face of the young man who had stormed out of their house and never come back. She saw the little boy she had raised. The one who had been scared of the dark, no matter how much he had refused to admit it. The one whose frowns she had turned upside down. The one who had once looked up to her. The one who used to tell her I love you.
"Jacob…" Karen breathed, unable to stop herself from getting emotional, even as her mind started to put the pieces together.
"I… I need help."
"He's my friend, Mom, and he's hurt," Jacob stated defiantly before Karen could speak.
She could see the desperation in his eyes. She knew he wouldn't have come here unless it was his absolute last resort. He really, truly needed her help. She was his mother. She had promised to be there for him even when he actively pushed her away. However, she wasn't going to do it without any explanation. It wasn't like he had just run away. From what she had heard, he had become a follower of that psychopath, Joe Carroll. That was what the reporters who had been stalking her had demanded to know about. Karen was glad that she and Bill had retired from government work because at least the questions were not about Fayed's attacks in Los Angeles. But now she had to deal with her son being one of the FBI's most wanted, him and his apparent companion, Paul Torres — if that was even his real name — who was probably the unconscious man on her couch. The press had been so intense that Karen had gotten her and Bill to her lakehouse. It had been her mother's. Of course, Bill had left soon after when Tony had shown up at their doorstep. But she still wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was some explanation for why Jacob was here.
"I recognise him," Karen said bluntly, gesturing to the couch. "Both of your faces are plastered all over the news. You're a wanted fugitive... kidnapping, murder?"
"I never killed anybody, Mom."
He seemed almost ashamed of this, the way he used to when his father would demand to know his GPA, and he admitted to anything less than a 4.0, knowing his father would punish him for it. While he had never laid a hand on Jacob — she had stopped him that much — his words had hurt more than his fists ever could. That fear was just below the surface for Jacob. She could see it. She understood why he had ended up under the guidance of Joe Carroll: with no decent father figure in his life during his formative years, now he had to get his approval by killing for someone who was promising him the world. Jacob seemed to be telling the truth, albeit with difficulty, but she wasn't quite ready to believe him. God, how had things gotten so bad that she couldn't even trust her son's word?
"The FBI said you did." She folded her arms.
He pouted slightly. "Well, I haven't."
Although she was aware of how his eyes kept flitting behind her to the man on the couch, she was too full of emotions and urgent questions to acknowledge that right this moment.
"They say that you're involved with that serial killer, that you're part of a cult?"
"I didn't say that I was innocent," Jacob amended. "Why are you here?"
That was a fair question, she supposed. Of course, he couldn't have known she was here. God, she had deluded herself. Jacob wasn't here for her help. Jacob was here to hide.
"Because it's impossible at home," Karen explained. "There are federal agents patrolling our house because Bill is terrified that one of your cult friends is going to attack us. Reporters are following your father to the hospital in the middle of the night."
Jacob sneered. "Well, that's a bummer. Poor guy."
She had never seen him this callous before. It frightened her more than she wanted to admit. Even when Jacob had proclaimed that he hated his father, he had done it with clenched fists and eyes on the verge of tears. He had punched a wall, or stormed off to go for a walk, or blasted some God-awful music through his iPod. But here, he was laughing at the idea of his father being stalked and harassed. This wasn't the Jacob she knew. This wasn't the Jacob she had raised. And as that realisation hit her square in the chest, she burst into tears. Through her blurred vision, that seemed to shake Jacob's defences a little.
"Help me understand this, Jacob," Karen begged. "I'm your mother, and I love you, but I don't understand this."
"I don't think that I can explain," he said distantly, and she really knew it was true. She had lost him.
As she took a shuddering breath, her heart leapt in her chest at the feeling of Jacob hugging her. She hated the fact that there was some kind of hesitation, like this wasn't a familiar action to them.
"But I need your help. Please," Jacob whispered, his voice breaking. "He's hurt. Bad."
Karen gathered it wasn't the kind of situation where a few Band-Aids and some bed-rest would suffice. They were fugitives hunted by the FBI. The kind of help his friend needed was probably better sought from a hospital, but she couldn't take them there without exposing them. She thought about Bill and what he would do. She supposed he was technically in hiding, too, since Tony was legally dead and couldn't be seen. Maybe he had some contacts.
Karen pulled back and cupped her son's cheeks. "I'm calling Bill. He'll know someone who can help."
His eyes widened. "You're kidding, right? He's a Fed. You're both Feds."
"Retired Feds," Karen corrected.
"How is he going to help me if he's not even here?"
She sighed. She didn't want to give Jacob too much information. Not because he didn't trust him but because, if God forbid, the FBI caught him, he could be capable of giving up intel that put Bill at risk.
"I won't tell you the details for your own safety. But someone he's associating with might be able to help you. He's…" She let out a breath. "Off the grid, like you."
His brow furrowed in a way that was painfully familiar. "Like a criminal?"
"Something like that."
Even she didn't know all the details. Bill had kept a certain level of it secret for her protection. The only reason she had even let him go without full awareness of what he was getting into was the way he had looked her dead in the eyes and told her that he needed to help Tony calmly and solemnly. She had never heard him speak so gravely. While it had been hard to make a decision based on gut feeling, not on logic, she had ultimately believed it was important enough to let him go.
"Alright," Jacob conceded with a nod. "Call him. Do what you have to do if it means helping Paul."
So it was the Paul Torres she had seen on the news after all. The news had labelled him as a variety of things. Jacob's partner in crime. Jacob's companion. Jacob's lover, from media outlets of the tabloid variety. Based on the vulnerable look in Jacob's eyes, Karen had to wonder whether maybe there was some truth to that, too. Maybe Paul was more than just a friend to him. That made her a little more sympathetic to his case. It was one thing to help someone her son simply worked with. It was another to help someone her son loved. She walked back to the kitchen, aware of how Jacob had immediately gone to Paul's side.
There were a few burner numbers that Bill had given her. She called the one designated for absolute emergencies.
He picked up on the second ring. "Karen, what's wrong?"
"It's Jacob."
"Jacob?" Bill exclaimed. "I thought you hadn't seen him in years. I thought he'd left–"
"Well, he's here. And he needs help. Do you know if Tony has any mob doctors in the area?" She hoped that Tony wasn't within earshot. In their single, brief meeting, they hadn't exactly gotten along well. But from what she did know about Tony, a mob doctor wasn't an unlikely contact of his.
"Is Jacob alright? Is he hurt?"
She heard faint murmurs from the other room, and they made her purse her lips. "It's not him. It's… it's someone he cares about. They're both on the run together. I– He's my son, I can't abandon him like this."
Although Bill had never met Jacob, he had always made it clear that he would treat him like his own flesh and blood. He had been understanding of her pain and grief over losing her relationship with Jacob and her subsequent messy divorce. She hoped now that there was meaning behind those words because she really needed him here.
"I'll tell Tony, and we'll be there as soon as we can," Bill said with assurance.
Tony stood nervously as Bill knocked on the door of the lakehouse. Doctor Burke, one of David's contacts, was beside him, equally as nervous. He didn't know her that well, admittedly, but she had been the one to help revive him after Henderson had killed him, so he figured she was more than capable of dealing with this. She had brought a plethora of medical supplies, unsure what she was about to treat, something that Tony didn't really like, either. One minute, he, Chloe and Bill had been reviewing new intel. The next, Bill had demanded that he call one of his or David's doctor contacts so they could go to Karen's lakehouse. Tony had learned a lot of new information at that moment, namely, that Bill had a stepson he had never met. Tony hadn't gone along with it right away, demanding to know what the hell this was about and whether this was really such a good idea. But Bill had vetoed it, and Chloe had agreed to monitor police and FBI frequencies, so he had called Burke and off they had gone.
Karen came to the door immediately, ushering them inside.
"My son's partner has been stabbed. The wound looks infected, and he's feverish."
Tony furrowed his brow. It was one thing if Karen's son was in danger, but her son's partner? The three of them were risking everything for a stranger?
The doctor went to the couch, where Tony observed the two men. One could barely keep his eyes open. The other looked very distressed and was teary-eyed. But Tony couldn't even be sympathetic because he was struck with familiarity. When he turned to Bill, slack-jawed, he wouldn't meet his eye.
"Hang on." Tony looked at Karen, who seemed ready to counter whatever he was about to say. "Your son and his partner are the two serial killers that have been all over the news? Are you fucking kidding me?"
"I'm not going to let someone who works for a terrorist lecture me about ethics. Jacob has never killed anybody. You, on the other hand, have taken how many lives, Tony?"
He scoffed but felt the slight sting. Guilt was one of the only strong emotions he was still capable of feeling since losing Michelle because she would be the most disappointed by his actions.
"Wait, Karen, what do you mean he hasn't killed anybody?" Bill asked with confusion.
She huffed. "I don't know. But that's what he told me, and I believe him."
"Well, you're lucky I brought antibiotics," Burke muttered, breaking the tense silence that followed. "The wound is infected, but it hasn't gone septic."
"So, he'll be okay?" Jacob asked desperately.
"Most likely."
Jacob sighed with relief, kissing his boyfriend's forehead. Paul, Tony was sure his name was. He wasn't hugely invested in the Joe Carroll story since he was more concerned about Dubaku wreaking havoc on American soil. Still, the names Jacob Wells and Paul Torres had popped up enough to have a lasting impact on his memory. Although he had been ready to continue pointing out how risky this was, and that the conspiracy they were trying to stop was more important than a couple of kids who had gotten involved with the wrong people, he instead found himself sympathetic to the sight before him. Jacob was muttering to Paul sweetly as the doctor worked on him. Even though he, Bill, and Karen were looking, Jacob was oblivious. All that mattered to him was Paul. The world could be crashing down around them, but so long as Paul was okay, Jacob could live with that. Tony was aware he might be projecting slightly. But it was hard not to look at them and think of him and David, how, despite the aching hole of grief that had been carved into him, he had found a way to live again, and he had David to thank for that. If he and David were in this position, he was sure he would do anything and everything to save him.
The doctor had set up an IV and was now stitching the stab wound. Paul winced, and Jacob was quick to hush him and squeeze his hand. Tony noticed Bill and Karen walk towards the hallway. Bill had a hand on her shoulder. Karen looked very upset. He didn't know too much about their family situation. But given that Bill had only ever mentioned Jacob once, long before he was wanted by the FBI, he didn't doubt it was complicated. What family wasn't?
Although Jacob took no notice of his presence, Tony felt like he was intruding, so he moved to where Karen and Bill were.
"My son might have made some mistakes, but don't you ever talk about him like that again." Her voice then softened. "That being said, I appreciate you helping him."
He nodded. "It's fine. I'm just glad we got here in time."
"He's stable, but he'll need bed rest," Doctor Burke said, having come up behind him. "I've given him some more painkillers and antibiotics for the road." She glanced at Karen with a small smile. "Your son still remembers plenty from med school."
Karen returned her smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. There was still the unspoken question of what happened next. The longer they stayed in one place, the riskier things got. They all had to leave. Bill had made Tony swear that Karen wouldn't be involved in this and that she would be safe. And although they weren't the main reason she was currently at risk, Tony still felt a desire to uphold that. It was what Michelle would have wanted him to do. She wouldn't have walked away from this. Then again, she wouldn't have ever been a fugitive, either.
"They can stay the night," Karen decided, taking a breath. "Then… then we'll help Jacob get a car, and he can be on his way." She seemed uncertain of her words, like she couldn't possibly fathom letting her son walk out the door again.
"Mom, it's fine," Jacob said, now standing behind Doctor Burke. "Once it's dark, I'll take Paul the rest of the way to Joe's. He'll keep us safe."
While Tony recognised that Jacob was probably trying to say that he felt bad for inconveniencing Karen and wanted to keep her safe, he could tell that Karen hadn't interpreted it that way.
"Jacob, please." She came closer to him. "Don't go. You're not that kind of person. You have a good and pure soul. I-I know that Joe Carroll is probably giving you what your father should have, but it doesn't have to be this way. We have connections. We could help you, both of you, cut a deal."
He shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere without him. We're in this together. I… I love him, Mom."
She sighed. Tony could see the way Jacob was pleading with his eyes. He really, truly meant it.
"What exactly is Joe Carroll promising you both?" Tony asked warily, praying Jacob wouldn't get defensive — he didn't need to piss off a loyal follower of a serial killer. "I mean… I say this with no offence, but if he really cares about his people, then he shouldn't be leaving you to fend for yourselves."
Jacob bit his lip. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way. We had someone else with us, but she…" He squared his jaw slightly. "She abandoned us."
Tony thought about all the people who had abandoned him, how that pain had fuelled his anger and made him into the person he was now, how, maybe, if someone like Jack had been in his life during those dark days, he might have remained the kind of person Michelle could proud of. It was clear that Jacob and Paul were set in their ways. He wasn't going to try to open their eyes about how they had been radicalised. But maybe if he had a moment with them, he could share some advice, advice that they wouldn't be receptive to hearing from Karen or Bill.
"Look, I…" Tony started, unsurprised at how much empathy he felt here. "I'm not taking you to Joe Carroll's house; it's risky for both of us." He was glad there was a perfectly justifiable reason for him not to do that. It saved him from having to admit that the cult gave him the creeps. "But maybe we can find a halfway point."
Bill and Karen looked at him with surprise but not disapproval. Jacob was even more surprised.
"You would do that for us?"
He nodded. "I think it's the best way to make sure we all stay underground. I could set you up with some burner phones so you can call whoever you need to call."
"Paul…" Jacob's voice broke a little, but he coughed to harden it. "Paul has a system. He's good with computers. We'll make sure we're not connected to you in any way. Once… once he's better, of course."
"I'm sure that'll be a good help." Tony made an effort to keep his expression soft. Jacob really was just a kid too far down a path he couldn't go back on — at least, not without compromise. "If you give me the coordinates, I can call Chloe, and she'll give us a safe drop point. Do you have someone to take you the rest of the way?"
Jacob seemed to contemplate this for a moment before saying, "T-There's a ranger in the area I can contact."
"Alright, let's set this up."
Jacob contacted the ranger, while Bill contacted Chloe. The compound was actually not terribly far from where David's was, just further out of the city. Based on what Jacob had said about Paul's computer skills, Tony was sure David could certainly use someone of his talent. At the same time, watching Jacob continue to look back at Paul made Tony realise his mind was made up. The doctor gave Paul one last check, confirming his condition hadn't changed. Then, together, they got him into the back of Jacob's car, with Chloe confirming the license plate wasn't being searched for by the police. Bill and Doctor Burke would drive back to where Chloe was while Tony dropped Jacob and Paul off on their own. He wasn't sure why he was volunteering, perhaps because Bill and Chloe had more to risk than him. Or maybe because he just couldn't let go of the resemblance between Paul and Jacob and him and David. He wanted to make sure they were safe. He had fucked up Karen's life enough by taking Bill away from her. This was the least he could do.
Karen called his name as he went to leave.
"Thank you for coming here," she said gratefully. "I appreciate it very much."
Tony offered a small smile. "You're welcome."
As Tony drove off, he felt a clutch in his chest as Jacob sat with Paul's head in his lap. He murmured to him reassuringly, and Paul gave him a lazy smile despite his closed and weary eyes. Tony reminded himself to concentrate. He had to be on the eye for concealed cop cars, even though Chloe would surely be a few steps ahead of him. She continued to monitor the halfway point while he became aware of the guilt sitting in his stomach. He hadn't called David since he'd left to 'see an informant' today, and he hated himself for it. He tried to avoid piling lies on top of lies when he had to cover for meeting up with Bill and Chloe. And usually, he was back in time to not arouse suspicion. But he had been very side-tracked today. There were two missed calls on his phone, but he couldn't take them now, which would only make David worry more. He would have a lot of making up and explaining to do, but even then, it would still be insulting because it wouldn't be the truth.
They soon found themselves pulling up opposite a Jeep verified to belong to Jacob's contact.
Tony put his balaclava on — he justified it as wanting to keep himself off the grid, but really, he didn't want to become known to any other serial killers — and helped Jacob move Paul out of the car while the ranger opened his doors.
"Thank you, Tony," Jacob said earnestly, looking back at him one last time. "We owe you one."
"Yeah, you do," Tony said sternly but then softened his voice. "But be careful, and good luck."
Five Years Later
Tony hadn't been told much about the plan to break him out, namely, who wanted him out. His money was on someone who wanted the intel that came from working as a Fed for over a decade, a thought that frankly terrified him. The man he had become right before his imprisonment might not have cared about giving up information. But now that some sense had been, very belatedly, knocked into him, he didn't want to do any more damage. All he had left was trying to do right by Michelle's memory. And since the prison warden had denied his request to be moved to general population, he supposed he would have to do so outside of a prison cell and the law. Still, that only made sense if someone who knew him was breaking him out. Jack sure as hell wasn't. All of David's crew had made it clear they'd kill him if they ever saw his face again — they'd tried to put a hit out on him inside prison more than once. So, who was the person shoving him into an unmarked van? Who was the driver?
"Go!" a male voice ordered, muffled by his balaclava. The van took off just as the doors shut, and Tony took a moment to catch his breath.
"Who the hell are you?" Tony demanded, looking between the back of the driver's head and the person across from him.
As he pulled off the balaclava, Tony felt a growing sense of familiarity. But only when he saw the man smirk did Tony realise he was staring at Paul Torres. The last time he had seen him, he had been on the brink of death. The driver turned his head and revealed himself as Jacob Wells, something Tony could have figured out even without seeing his face. Although Tony recalled his sympathy for Jacob when they'd met, he was already on edge from his surprise prison break. More than that, he couldn't help but recall the crucial fact that both of them were followers of Joe Carroll. Oh, God, they were going to kill him. This was their idea of a thank you, murdering him.
"I-I don't understand," Tony uttered, very afraid to lose sight of either of them. "What are you two doing here?"
"Well, you did say we owed you one," Jacob said with a smile. "And since we don't follow anybody else's orders anymore, we decided to thank the person who saved our lives."
"What- by killing me?"
Paul just laughed, making Tony feel awfully paranoid.
"What?"
"We're not here to kill you, Tony," Paul clarified. "Through my connections, I found out you were in prison, and we decided to help you out. Sure, your crimes might be worse than ours by a long shot, but you did save my life, so I thought that was fair enough."
Tony's cheek twitched. He wasn't wrong. His lawyer had managed to save him from the death penalty by making him plead to treason only and not aiding and abetting genocide. Multiple murders were arguably nothing compared to treason — especially since he was now classed as a repeat offender for what he had done to save Michelle all those years ago.
"Plus, we're aware you didn't do it out of sheer evil," Jacob added, his voice a little more understanding. "We went through your file. We know what happened to you, and, well, we can't exactly say we don't understand what it's like to want someone dead with every fibre of your being."
Tony never expected such understanding from a serial killer.
"We would have killed Alan Wilson for you, too, but we figured the person who deserves that is you. Plus, that FBI agent already got a head-start," Paul added, disappointed the way a fisher would be if they hadn't successfully reeled in their catch of the day.
"What FBI agent?"
"Agent Renee Walker. She tortured him."
His eyes widened. That hadn't been on his bingo card for someone who had clearly shown herself as a law-abiding agent, even as Jack had influenced her.
"But she didn't kill him, and he was let go on parole. We kidnapped him, and we've got him back at the house."
He looked at him with bewilderment. "Wait, you took Alan Wilson to Joe Carroll's compound? I'm surprised he isn't already dead."
Paul shook his head. "Not Joe's compound. Our safehouse, Tony."
Tony furrowed his brow.
"We never made it to Joe's house," Jacob explained. "We realised if he really cared about us, he wouldn't have left us to the wolves. So, we decided we could make our own happiness."
At that moment, Tony observed a wedding band on Paul's finger. He was sure Jacob had one, too. Something about hearing him talk about Joe like he was just a figure of their past and not who their whole world revolved around made Tony proud. He wasn't by any means a mentor to them, but he would like to think that what he had pointed out to Jacob that day had helped him start to break out of the mindset that came from being brainwashed. At the same time, seeing the way Paul's face changed when he glanced at Jacob made his heart hurt because maybe, in another life, he and David could have had this. His mind replayed the moment he had pulled the trigger over and over again. He had fucked up, big time. He had told himself that he would do anything to save David, the way Jacob had for Paul, and he hadn't. He might not know what Jacob and Paul's idea of happiness was, but if it was total freedom, then he supposed that would have been just fine. He remembered David saying, Come on, after this next job, we're done. We'll cash in our chips and do whatever we want, and he hated that he had been the reason that had never come to fruition. He ultimately didn't regret going to Bill and Chloe. But he did regret his cowardice and not explaining to Bill that he wanted David protected.
"We're here," Jacob said, stopping Tony from spiralling any further about David, although the clutch in his chest was still there.
Tony had to admit he had relaxed a little, but he was still somewhat wary. As they got out of the van and walked inside, Tony watched Paul pull out a small tablet. From what he could tell, his level of security and high-tech equipment could only be rivalled by Chloe. That made him feel a little better since he was more of a hot-topic fugitive than they were. As they came inside, Paul and Jacob swept the house before guiding him to the basement, where Alan Wilson was sitting half-conscious and zip-tied. The rage he had felt when he had confronted him all those years ago was back.
"Pick your poison," Paul said, gesturing to a small table with a few guns, but mostly knives and other weapons. "Literally. We also have neurotoxins for you to dip a blade into if you want."
He cocked a brow. He couldn't say he'd ever thought about killing Alan Wilson with such specificity. But he supposed if he got off on killing people for fun, he would have preferences, too. Tony opted for the silenced Smith & Wesson, his usual pistol of choice. Paul muttered something about him being no fun, but Tony paid it no mind. Wilson stirred a little, and Tony noticed that he actually had fear in his eyes. He hadn't seen that back at the warehouse; he had been a smug, cold son-of-a-bitch and made Tony seethe with rage. However, now, he just saw a pathetic coward afraid to die. Tony sneered a little, raising the gun, but something didn't feel right. He had had a lot of time to think in prison. He had had a lot of time to wallow in regret and realise that he had made some terrible choices. Most of all, he had lamented that being in prison wouldn't even allow him to try to make up for anything. He would never be worthy of Michelle's forgiveness. He had accepted that. But he wanted to try to atone where he could because it was the right thing to do.
And that meant he couldn't do this. No matter how much he'd yearned for this… it wasn't going to make him happy. It wasn't going to bring Michelle back, either.
This odd feeling of enlightenment and righteousness was not unfamiliar to him. It was how he had felt when he had contacted Bill and told him he was alive. It was how he had felt when Karen had called Bill and asked him to help Jacob despite the risk. He hadn't regretted either of those things. No, in fact, both of those things had made him feel like a better man. Despite the protest of his cold, rational mind at the time, the awareness that he was putting everything on the line for a stupid kid and his boyfriend, by listening to his heart and making a decision with compassion… ultimately, it had paid off. Yes, he had lost David, and the guilt-ridden grief he had was not something he was over. And, yes, he had still crossed some boundaries he wasn't proud of, but if he didn't kill Alan Wilson right now… that would be the first step towards true atonement.
"You know what?" Tony could still feel the anger in every inch of his body, but he ignored it. "You two kill him. I don't want this anymore."
"What do you mean? He killed your wife!" Jacob exclaimed, and Tony realised there was genuine sympathy for him.
"I know." A lump formed in his throat. "But she wouldn't want me to do this. I appreciate what you both did for me. I know getting Wilson was very risky, but… I don't need to do this."
Before Jacob could ask him if this was what he really wanted, Paul simply said, "Suit yourself, Tony." He then walked past Tony, driving a knife into Wilson's solar plexus not once, not twice, but enough times that Tony was sure he would need more than two hands to count the total.
"Paul," Jacob scolded, like Paul was a dog chewing on furniture.
"What?"
Jacob didn't even seem shocked. If anything, he just seemed disappointed that Paul hadn't let him join in. The little conversation between them that followed was so domestic it almost made Tony laugh. However, he did feel something lift in his chest to see Alan Wilson dead. It brought him comfort, but it brought him more comfort to know he had made a decision that, while it wouldn't undo anything else, made him feel like a better man.
Paul informed Tony he had a set of fake IDs and some supplies for him waiting in the spare bedroom, so he left, allowing them to presumably clean up and dispose of the body. There was also some food and water as well. Tony was mostly sure by this point that they had just wanted to return the favour and that they had no intention of killing him. But the more he sat there, faintly listening to Paul and Jacob, the more emotional he became. He remembered having that sense of foreboding when Jacob had so tenderly worried about Paul dying. He remembered thinking that he would never let such a thing happen, yet he had, and he hated himself for it so much. He had let down both of the people he had loved more than anything. What he had done just now had been a slight step in the right direction. He wouldn't disregard that. But the consequences of everything else just made him feel pathetic.
By the time Paul and Jacob came in a few hours later, Tony was still sobbing into his hands, consumed by the sensation of hopelessness and regret.
"Oh, you did want to kill him, didn't you?" Paul said sympathetically.
Tony sniffled, shaking his head. "No, I'm just thinking about how I messed up. Someone close to me, someone who I loved, died because of me, and I've never been able to get over that."
Jacob furrowed his brow. "But it wasn't your fault that your wife died. You couldn't have known."
He shook his head, looking up, wondering how judgemental they might be as he explained what happened that fateful day at the hangar. Their expressions were surprisingly sympathetic but also showed some conflict.
"I was trying to work towards the greater good. I don't regret that. But if I had the choice again… I wouldn't have risked David's life over Jack's."
"I mean, it sounds horrible, but… I think Paul and I can understand that," Jacob said. "For the longest time, Joe was all that mattered to us, more than each other, more than ourselves. We chose to put ourselves first, and, yeah, it was the best decision we ever made, but I know that so many of his followers wouldn't have done the same. When you're devoted to a cause, whatever that cause is… it consumes us, and sometimes we don't realise how much until we step outside of it."
Tony lifted his shoulder a little. "I know a lot of my conscience is a result of not wanting to let Michelle down any more than I already have. In a way, choosing to go to Bill, choosing to try to stop those attacks, was like choosing her. I don't regret that part. I just… wished I'd been able to make a more balanced choice. I wish I'd at least told David. It was wrong of me to keep him out of the loop, and I should have known better because I kept Michelle out of the loop once, and it led to our divorce."
At this point, he was just hoarsely rambling with guilt. That obviously wasn't what Jacob and Paul had expected. They had done him a pretty big favour, and he should make a point of how grateful he was for that.
"I really do appreciate what you did," Tony said, wanting to make sure he didn't appear resentful because he wasn't. "It means a lot that you kept your word when I didn't expect you to."
"You're welcome." Jacob smiled.
"Where do you think you'll go?" Paul then asked, not with impatience, like he wanted him to leave, but with genuine curiosity. "I mean… it's probably best if you don't give us specifics, plausible deniability and all that. We're under the radar, and we'd like to stay that way."
Tony laughed through his nose. He hadn't really given much thought about what he would do if he was hypothetically broken out of prison — namely, because he had always assumed whoever broke him out would want him to work for them in return. So, the idea of having nothing, nobody to go back to, was almost overwhelming. He had a few contacts. But he didn't want to go back to arms deals here and smuggling there. He wanted a purpose. No, he needed a purpose. And he was tired of that purpose being money or something else superficial. At the same time, he was never going back to the government again, not for practical reasons, not for personal reasons, either. But he could find a balance. He would be underground, he would be outside of the law, but that didn't mean he couldn't do any good deeds. He could both work to do the right thing and expose the flaws in the government without letting innocent people come to harm. It would be a balancing act, but it was the only thing that felt logical, felt like something he could live with.
"I'm not sure yet. But I know that wherever I am, I'm going to try to make up for what I've done." He wasn't just saying it; he really, truly believed that it was possible.
"I'm sure your wife would be proud of you for that. At least, we want to believe that based on what we read of her file."
It was unexpectedly personal to hear Paul say that, but he was right. Tony couldn't make up for everything, but he could damn well try. And maybe, just maybe, one day, he would feel worthy of forgiveness — from Michelle and David.