Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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

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

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

"Hi, Jack."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Something about the CIP firewall?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Where is he?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where is he?" he repeated.

"Tony Almeida's dead," Schector insisted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It won't."

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

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

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

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

Every second of silence felt like aeons.

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" she asked worriedly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dessler."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How are you feeling?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded. "Good luck, then."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You know exactly what I just said."

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His brow furrowed.

She lowered her voice. "Deep sky."

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

"As in?–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I was told to call you."

"By whom?"

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

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

"It's Bill, Jack."

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

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

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

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

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

"Arrested?"

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

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

"Bill–" Jack protested.

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

"We don't have ten minutes."

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

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

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

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

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

"Alright," he agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You and Chloe?" Jack asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I never said it would be easy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

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

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

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

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

"Are you okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Michelle–" Renee gasped with panic.

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

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

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

"Are you alright?" he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No. Release her now."

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

Larry sputtered. "You're what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

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

"Agent Moss? Where's Agent Dessler?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Michelle was kidnapped–"

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

"What?–"

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

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

"Wait… that doesn't make sense."

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

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

She gaped at him. "Bauer what?–"

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

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

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

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

"I've got Janis on it."

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

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

"Alright."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Speaking from experience, Renee?" Sean quipped.

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

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

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

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

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

She shook her head.

"Has Tanner been stabilised yet?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dessler."

Or an FBI agent. 

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

"How the hell did you get out?"

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

Walker shook her head in disbelief. 

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks," Michelle said quietly.

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

"Did coming here help you, at least?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Get down!" Walker shouted.

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

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

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

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

"You can't take them by yourself."

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michelle looked at the floor.

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

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

Chapter Text

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

"What is this place?" Jack asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I need to take this."

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

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

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

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

"By who?" Jack asked.

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

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

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

"No."

Jack took a step back. "What?"

"I was really working for him."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And whose fault is that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What about me?" Michelle asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

"You're shaking," Tony pointed out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry," Tony said genuinely.

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

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

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

"Good luck."

He smiled slightly. "You, too."

Chapter Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then consider me your knight in shining armour."

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

"If anything, I should thank you."

"Thank me? Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

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

"Saul, it's me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She obliged, and he shut the door behind them. 

"What the hell was that stunt you pulled?"

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

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

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

"Where?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can you trace it?" Michelle asked.

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

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

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

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

She had to get to her.

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

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

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

"Down here!" Chloe called.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the hell is going on?"

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

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

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

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

Jack looked at Tony pointedly, then back at David.

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

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

"How did you do it?" Tony questioned.

"Christopher Henderson."

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

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

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

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

"And?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Anyway... I talked to him."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Drop the gun, David."

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pulled the trigger.

Should David...

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

Chapter Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What happened?"

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

"Are you alright?"

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

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

"Tony..." 

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

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

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

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

"You alright?" Michelle asked.

Walker scoffed. "You drugged me."

She sighed. "I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, you okay?"

She nodded. "Just a little dizzy."

"Sit down," Michelle said gently.

"I'm fine–"

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

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

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

"So, it's really true?"

Michelle exhaled. "Yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My point still stands."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Everything alright?" Jack asked warily.

David just scoffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Alright," he said.

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

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

As Michelle stepped out, he heard David laugh derisively.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michelle gave him a funny glance.

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

"Exactly what happened here?" she asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"W... What?"

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

"Even Larry?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

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

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

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

"Hey, it's me."

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

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

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

"Besides Agent Walker, no."

"Agent Walker? As in?…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Have you got Dubaku?" Michelle asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michelle furrowed her brow. "Where?"

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

"It's inside you."

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

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

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

Michelle nodded.

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

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

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

"I'm not going," he said.

They turned to look at him.

"What do you mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

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

One of the first things she and Renee had done together back at one of the old safehouses was go for runs together, a slight upgrade from the treadmill. They had started as slow and brisk walks on account of Michelle's injuries, but had then become mini marathons. It had been beneficial for her both physically and mentally. Surviving the car bomb might have been a miracle in itself, but she still had chronic issues that would probably remain with her forever and worsen with age. She had some mild hearing loss, which Renee was always aware of. She adjusted the tone of her voice in a register that made it clearer for her to hear if they were somewhere noisy. If someone called out, but was too far away, Renee would relay it to her without skipping a beat, just quietly, not wanting to make it obvious. 

From the way Michelle had fallen, her back, hips, and neck were severely misaligned. Given that she spent fifty per cent of the time stuck at a desk and the other fifty per cent working out with Renee, it seemed to be a good balance of changing position to help with mobility. She saw a physiotherapist as well, although that had come with its own set of challenges when the first one, despite vetting from the CIA, had tried to kill her. Well, she wasn't quite sure if it had been them or an impersonator. All she knew was that as she had lain facedown on the bed, her gut had warned her that the person who had seen her in did not match the person standing over her. The terror of having to flip over and fight back so quickly in an awkward position when she had already been sore came second only to the night at the church. At least Michelle could trust that even if she was having a flare-up, the adrenaline of having her life endangered could override it. Saul had been right to assume that the people after her wouldn't try to kill her publicly or in a way that immediately implicated them, but that didn't mean they couldn't slip through the cracks.

It was after that incident that Renee had suggested kickboxing. Michelle had had self-defence and field training a number of years prior, but the accident and lack of movement had made her rusty. Renee had managed to find a small gym that was open twenty-four-seven. They timed their visits around their awkward work hours so that they were usually alone in the ring. Bodyguards would survey the outside, and there was always someone at the CIA keeping an eye through the cameras, too. But for the most part, it really was just her and Renee there. Michelle recognised her willingness to be completely isolated with Renee was a testament to how much she trusted her. There was still a chance, a small chance, but a chance, that Renee Walker would appear as a notification on her tracking program, informing her that she was trying to spread her information to the people who wanted her dead. However, it was getting harder and harder to believe that. If Renee wanted to kill her, she would have by now. 

Sparring together had not only brought the endorphins that came with exercise, but also a better chance to release her stress and frustration. She and Renee knew each other well enough by now that they could be a little rough without crossing the line of risking injuries — or, in Michelle's case, more injuries. It was fun, too, and made her feel empowered. Ever since Michelle had started all those years ago, she had realised that she could learn a lot about a person by the way they fought. She had become familiar with her opponent's tics and habits, trying to learn how to anticipate each attack so she could beat them to it. It had also taught her a lot about herself, made her try to unlearn or conceal her own habits, or use them to trick the other person into thinking she was doing one thing when she was doing another. It was a good mental challenge.

But, clearly, she had managed to learn a lot about Renee because she managed to catch her off-guard and pin her to the mat. Michelle blew a piece of hair out of her eye as she found herself straddling Renee, holding her down by the shoulders. 

"Gotcha," Michelle said with a smirk, but the smirk soon stretched into a grin.

"Oh, we're so having a rematch!" Renee protested.

Renee was laughing, and she couldn't help but laugh, too. She wasn't sure she had ever felt this carefree, just able to be in the moment without sinking into depression about the past or spiralling into panic about the future. But then her mind went places she didn't expect it to. She and Renee were looking right at each other. The colour of her eyes, that electric blue with flecks of green, reflected in the light was beautiful. Although her skin was flushed, Michelle could still make out all the little freckles on her face and trailing down her shoulders. Her chest was heaving, and her lips were slightly parted. She was breathtaking, in every sense of the word.

Michelle wasn't sure when her feelings for Renee had started to change, but it was pretty hard to deny they had now. She believed a good part of her care for Renee simply came from Renee's unyielding loyalty and willingness to be there for her in return. Her life would be pretty miserable without Renee. She really was the only friend she had now. Although her colleagues at the CIA, few as they might be, were kind and respected her, she was not in any position to see them outside of work, simply because she was a walking target, and they were totally justified in wanting to keep their distance. More than that, she couldn't be certain that all of them were trustworthy. Rebecca, Saul's Chief of Staff, was probably the only other person who saw her as human and not just as a valuable asset. Having lost her husband a number of years ago, a senator who had been assassinated, she had been able to help her out in that way. But while Rebecca and the CIA could support her professionally, Renee reminded her every day that she was alive for a reason, that she was more than just an agent, that she was worth it as a person.

However, deep down, Michelle couldn't deny that she still had a death wish, albeit a much smaller one. It wasn't that she actively considered taking her life or believed that life was meaningless. It was more that she was holding on and motivating herself almost entirely with the case. She would be more than willing to make a heroic sacrifice if it meant putting an end to the conspiracy. She would be content with having her star put on the wall. Even if she miraculously survived all of this, with no family and many years of service behind her, the CIA would see her as a perfect candidate for a suicide mission, and she could die with dignity that way, too. She had never empathised with Jack more deeply than she had in these last eighteen months or so. When she had read through the reports regarding the suitcase nuke incident in LA, she had learned Jack had been willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good, that he hadn't wanted to die for nothing, hence having fought to stay alive in China. She completely understood his perspective. Michelle still felt guilty for not having pushed harder to rescue him in the first place. Saul had shut the idea right down, reminding her that she already had enough people after her. She had been very insistent, but he hadn't budged. She really wished she could call Jack and talk to him, but he had disappeared after that day, and it didn't seem he wanted to be found.

By now, the laughing had trailed off, and they were both silent, just staring into each other's eyes. Michelle wasn't quite sure whether she had lowered her head or Renee had lifted hers up slightly, but she knew that their faces were closer to each other than before. A part of her, deep in her heart, was screaming at her to just say to hell with it and kiss her. If Renee was uncomfortable or wasn't thinking about kissing her first, she would have pulled away, and her gaze wouldn't have dropped to her lips.

The only problem was that this wouldn't just be a kiss. This was not a fleeting moment of attraction. It carried so much weight.

Renee threatened to undo all of her plans, and it scared the shit out of her, more than any assassin ever could. Admitting her feelings for Renee meant thinking about a future after this case, even if it was still years away. It meant committing to finding a way to live again. It meant, to a small degree, letting go of Tony. It meant letting someone in, and accepting that she would be at greater risk. It wasn't that Michelle wanted to selfishly restrict Renee to being her bodyguard: it was that she was terrified of letting her get involved in this. She couldn't lose her. Her heart couldn't handle any more grief than it already held. More than that, Renee deserved so much better than her. She deserved someone who wasn't going to ruin her life. She had such a bright future ahead of her as an agent. If she was going to die, better she die for her country, not because of her. Michelle also couldn't dare to lose her if she was wrong about her intuition — although she rarely was — and Renee's feelings weren't reciprocated.

Michelle wasn't sure how long she had been ruminating for, but Renee must have taken the hint that this wasn't going to go any further because when she awkwardly cleared her throat and looked away, they mutually parted. Renee no longer seemed interested in the rematch. They were silent as they showered and got back in the car. Renee drove her home, and Michelle hated the disappointment she could see Renee was trying to hide. She shouldn't have let that moment go on for so long.

The car pulled to the curb, and Michelle took her seatbelt off as quickly as possible, feeling tears well in her eyes.

"Hey, uh…" Renee said, stopping Michelle before she could get out of the car. 

Michelle turned to look at her nervously.

"Same time tomorrow?" Renee asked, her voice gentle but uncertain. It seemed she had a million more things she wanted to say, but didn't know where to begin or if to begin.

She mustered a smile. "Yeah. See you then."

Although this promise of tomorrow gave her hope, Michelle was still terrified to cling to it and couldn't help but worry that she had just lost her only chance with her.

Chapter Text

Although Renee had vouched for them, Agent Moss wasn't particularly happy about any of this. He also wasn't happy with Saul pulling rank and making Chloe perform some private analysis in one of the FBI's offices. She was looking at the data from Dubaku, but they had told Agent Moss it was from one of Emerson's computers. Saul would have made Chloe analyse it at the CIA, but Michelle wanted to be close by. Their secrecy notwithstanding, Agent Moss was pleased that they had managed to detain Dubaku and that the Matobos were safe, as was the president.

"So, where's Almeida?"

Jack looked at the floor, and Michelle didn't seem to want to answer his question, either.

Agent Moss put his hands on his hips. "Are you fucking kidding me? You lost him?" There was something almost amusing about how Agent Moss was referring to Tony like some kind of feral rottweiler.

"He's following a lead," Jack finally decided to say. 

"Where, Bauer? The Bahamas?"

"He gave me his word. I believe him. He wants to put an end to this as much as we do." Better he say it than Michelle. It was lucky enough that what they had achieved had counteracted all the rules they had broken in the process.

"You'll have to forgive me if I find that hard to believe since he didn't tell you he was alive." He sighed, glancing between them. "Alright, fine. The second Almeida is done being useful, we are putting him in holding, and he is staying in holding."

Jack felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and they took that as their cue to leave. He found a private corner in a hallway to answer it.

Chloe didn't even greet him, just asked, "Is Michelle with you?"

"No, she went back to her office."

"Good."

He furrowed his brow. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I found something she's not going to like." She sighed. "Renee's name is on Dubaku's list."

Jack felt his blood run cold. They had discussed everything in front of Renee, and Michelle had insisted all morning that she could be trusted. But even though he respected Michelle's judgement, he hadn't let his guard down entirely around Renee. He just hadn't known her long enough to have a definitive idea of her character. He had acted the same way around every other FBI agent, and frankly, Tony, too, today. Finding out that there was likely a mole had only justified his behaviour more.

Really, Jack had never been a trusting person. But after Nina, he had become even more reluctant to allow himself to get comfortable around new people, particularly government agents. He knew Michelle had likely lived similarly, ever since it had been made clear to her just how many people wanted to kill her. However, he was quite sure that Michelle's relationship with Renee was more than platonic, or at least had been at some point. It was clear in the way they regarded each other. Perhaps not to the untrained eye, but to him, for certain. They had known each other for years, from his understanding, and while that should incline Jack to have a little faith, he could also clearly recognise that that made Michelle more susceptible to being taken advantage of if her guard had relaxed with time.

"What if someone's trying to frame her?" Jack queried, wanting more definitive proof, and still wanting to give Michelle some credit.

"It gets worse," Chloe said, seemingly disappointed and worried for Michelle. "I've been digging deeper into the tracing program the CIA has been using to look at who's opened Michelle's profile, since the mole apparently got past it. Now I can see a transmission to a device Tony confirmed belonged to David. It came from Renee's IP, which was verified with her SSH key, too. Renee's the mole. She has to be. She sent Michelle's details to Dubaku's people so they could target her. Emerson worked for Dubaku. That's how he and Tony found out."

"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"For someone to be able to frame her… technically, it's not impossible, but it's not easy to pull off. I'll keep looking into it."

"Alright. Thanks, Chloe."

As he hung up, his eyes fell to where Michelle was standing near Renee's computer, her hand gently resting on her shoulder. He thought back to when they were at CTU, when he would often find Tony and Michelle in a similar position. They had always kept things professional at work — up until the Cordilla virus outbreak at least — but Jack had always noticed the subtle moments of contact between them. It was how he had figured out they were going out, long before any paperwork to Division had been filed disclosing their relationship. 

Jack called Michelle over, making sure he kept his expression neutral towards Renee. He pulled her aside in the hallway, making her look at him with concern.

"Did Chloe look at Dubaku's list?"

"Yeah." He paused to mind his words, not wanting to jump to outlandish conclusions, but not about to sugarcoat anything, either. "Renee's on it. Chloe also believes she's the one who told Emerson and bypassed the CIA software."

She squinted at him. "What? No, that… that can't be right."

"Michelle–"

"I trust her, Jack," Michelle said firmly, before adding, "Objectively."

"And, once upon a time, I trusted someone, too."

She bit her lip. "This is obviously a mistake. Someone is setting her up. If she, or someone she worked for, wanted me dead, I would have been six feet under a long time ago."

"I want to believe that's the case, but this is pretty damning evidence that you can't look away from."

Michelle looked over at Renee, shaking her head. She seemed as unsteady now as she had after interrogating Tony, like her whole world had come crashing down.

"I know you were or are involved, so if you can't be impartial here, then let me question her."

She took a breath. "Fine. But I'm going to be there when you do."

He nodded, letting Michelle go back to where Renee was working and bringing them both into her office. Renee looked at both of them with confusion. The more Jack thought about it, the more memories were dredged up. He didn't want to believe it was Renee, either, both for Michelle's sake and because, from what he had seen, she was an agent with a promising future. But he hadn't wanted to believe Nina was playing him, either. He had fought to find evidence that exonerated her, and he had still been burned in the end. He wasn't going to let Michelle make the same mistake. She had already been through far too much.

"Take a seat," Jack said to Renee coldly.

Warily, she obliged, looking at Michelle, who was unreadable. "What's up?"

"You tell me."

She furrowed her brow. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb." 

Renee's eyes moved to Michelle again. "Michelle, what is he talking about?"

She opened her mouth to speak but chose not to, keeping her arms folded.

"Michelle, what the hell is going on?" Renee asked again, unnerved by his stare.

"You told Emerson Michelle was alive. You sent the file to him and bypassed the CIA's software."

Her eyes widened. "This… this is ridiculous. I would never do that."

"It was a confirmed match with your IP and SSH key."

"Well, obviously, whoever did do it was smart enough not to get caught and make sure someone else got blamed. I'm being set up, can't you see that?" Renee implored, raising her voice. "Michelle, you know I would never do this to you."

Nina had been emotional like this, too. She had been so horrified by his accusation, and that moment of sympathy he had had for her had been his biggest mistake. He wouldn't let Renee try to manipulate Michelle.

Renee looked at Michelle desperately. "I care about you. For God's sake, I've been there from day one trying to protect you–"

"Unless they were paying you enough that it didn't bother you being at risk, too, if it made the whole thing look believable."

"Jack," Michelle said warningly.

"Who are you working for, Renee?"

"The FBI," she insisted.

The memory of Nina was consuming him now. He was seething with rage and pain from the betrayal, desperate to protect Michelle. He couldn't undo what Nina had done, but he sure as hell could make sure nobody suffered the way he had.

Jack could see the tension in Michelle's expression, could see her desperately trying to find a tell, desperately trying to know whether Renee was telling the truth. But Jack knew that just talking wasn't going to cut it. He shoved Renee further into the chair, wrapping a hand around her throat, not minding the bandage from where he had shot her.

"Who are you working for?" he roared.

"Jesus Christ, Jack, enough!" Michelle yelled, grabbing his arm forcefully.

He retreated, and Renee coughed a few times. Michelle stood between them, clearly upset. 

"She doesn't know anything, alright?" Michelle said, her eyes wet with tears.

Jack took a deep breath, realising that maybe he had been caught up in the familiarity of the whole situation. He wasn't going to let it go. Not until Chloe came back to him with more concrete evidence. But being an outsider here was exactly why he had been brought in. It was what made him able to judge things from a neutral standpoint. But for now, he knew Michelle wasn't going to let him try anything again. 

He walked out of the office, shutting the door behind him. As he stood there trying to collect himself, he realised he could hear them talking through the door.

"I'm sorry," Michelle said. "I had no idea he was going to do that."

"But you knew he was going to interrogate me," Renee snapped. "Where's he getting this from? That the breach was traced to me?"

"I… I can't tell you that."

The chair creaked a little, presumably from Renee standing up.

"Why the hell are you shutting me out? How can you not trust me after everything we've been through?" 

"I do trust you. I told you that at the hangar."

There was a pause, and, if Jack wasn't mistaken, one of them was sniffling.

"Michelle, I took a bullet for you," Renee said bitterly. 

"Look…" Michelle sighed. "Today has been a lot for Jack. He had the Senate hearing. He found out I was alive. He found out Tony was alive. He's paranoid, and he's getting protective because he blames himself for what happened to me."

"I get that, but he's been on this case for what, half a day? You've been on it for nearly seven years. You can't just take his word for everything."

"But that's exactly why we brought him in here. We needed the perspective."  

She huffed. "This isn't CTU, Michelle. This is still our turf. There's a reason it was decommissioned: you can't just strangle anybody remotely involved in the case to get an answer."

Michelle then softened her voice a little. "He was just trying to look out for me. You know about what happened between him and Nina Myers: he trusted her, and she killed his wife."

Renee scoffed. "Oh, so I'm Nina Myers now?"

"That's not what I meant. But you can't blame Jack for–"

"I'm not blaming Jack for being suspicious: I'm blaming you for not defending me in the first place," Renee said, gritting her teeth.

Jack heard Renee's voice increase in volume, meaning she was walking towards the door. He quickly moved into the bullpen so she wouldn't know he had been eavesdropping. When Renee came out, he noticed the pinkish tinge around her neck, and she scowled at him. He didn't know what to believe anymore. He just wanted the truth. 

Michelle then followed, looking at him with anger, but also a hint of concern.

Before he could attempt an apology, his phone buzzed in his pocket again.

"Is that Chloe?" Michelle asked.

"Yeah."

"Put it on speaker," she said tersely.

He obliged, hoping dearly that Chloe's initial conclusion had been wrong and that she had an update that could resolve this.

"Someone's trying to wipe the system!"

Larry stormed down the hallway with the security guards as fast as he could, trying to keep up with Michelle and O'Brian. Jack had stayed to monitor O'Brian's computer to prevent attempts at sabotage — apparently, that was something that had happened before in their CTU days.

"What the hell is going on? I thought you were here for CIA analysis–" Larry started.

"There's a mole in the FBI, and this has just proved it," Michelle informed him.

"What?" He tried to get closer. "How?–"

She huffed. "Dubaku has a list of the US government agents on his payroll. Just as Chloe started cross-referencing the list, someone tried to wipe the system. I don't think that's a coincidence."

They made it to the server room to find Sean and Erika. Larry ordered them to freeze, and Sean slowly raised his gun. However, it seemed they were a second too late because Erika had already collapsed. It appeared she had been shot in the arm and was still breathing, judging by her scream of pain.

"It wasn't me!" Sean shouted, shakily getting on the floor at the request of the guards. "I followed Erika up here. She was trying to crash the system. I shot her in self-defence!"

"Oh, you son of a bitch, Sean!" Erika exclaimed, then insisted Sean was just as complicit as she was, and demanded a lawyer.

Larry called for more security and a medic, allowing Michelle and O'Brian to shove past and try to analyse the server. "Chloe, can you recover the files?"

"I don't know yet."

"What files? What the hell is happening?" Sean asked worriedly.

"Yeah, that's what I'd like to fucking know," Larry said under his breath.

Both Erika and Sean tried to protest, but spoke over each other and, with frustration, he told them both to shut up.

There was silence as O'Brian continued to type away, and he prayed that whatever file she was accessing wasn't permanently lost. Judging by the smile that crept across her face, it seemed she had gotten there in time.

"I've cancelled the wipe. Everything has been restored."

Michelle read what was on the screen, then looked over her shoulder. Larry kept his eyes on Sean, who was now handcuffed, and Erika, who was having her wound wrapped.

"Wait…" Michelle said. "That's the whole list?"

O'Brian nodded. "Yeah. The matches between the FBI database and Dubaku's list are Sean Hillinger and Renee Walker."

"Renee?" Larry asked quizzically. "She couldn't possibly…"

"No, she couldn't," Michelle finished. "Otherwise, she would be in this room, not you, Erika."

"But it doesn't explain her SSH key being connected to the hidden transmission of your file," O'Brian rebutted, and Michelle bit her lip.

Larry could tell Michelle was conflicted by this, and he couldn't blame her. It was very hard to believe that the woman who had protected and loved her for so many years could be secretly working with the people who wanted her dead. But besides the emotional side of things, logistically, it made no sense. There had been plenty of opportunities for Renee to get Michelle killed, right back to the beginning, and Larry doubted Renee had been swayed or paid off after she and Michelle had gotten close. Renee didn't betray the people she loved. Even after her and Michelle's breakup, she had been anything but spiteful. She was still as protective of her as she had always been. Her impulsive behaviour this morning was a testament to that.

"Chloe, can you get a date on the transmission?"

She hummed as she tried to do so before tilting the monitor so Michelle could see.

"We were at that conference in New York," Michelle recalled. "All three of us."

Larry nodded as he remembered this, too. "Could the timestamp have been fudged?"

O'Brian shook her head. "Nope, and I've just gotten a location tag with another scan. It was from here. If Renee was with you, she couldn't have done it. Someone obviously used her device and accessed her keys."

Michelle walked closer to Sean and Erika, standing over them with her hands on her hips. "You set Renee up, didn't you?"

"Wait, you told Dubaku that you were Renee?" Sean said with bewilderment. "I thought we agreed we were going to be equally liable."

Erika sneered at him through her pain. "You were making me do all the work. I wanted to cover my ass."

Michelle's jaw twitched. "So Dubaku asked you for FBI intel, you figured out what was up with my profile, struck gold, and managed to distribute it without triggering the software."

"Just thought I'd keep him apprised," Erika replied coolly. "Nothing personal. Although it was very sweet to see you defend your girlfriend, sorry, ex-girlfriend."

Larry warily watched Michelle clench her fist, but she walked away.

"She was going to ask you to marry her," Erika called, making Michelle freeze. "She couldn't stop smiling when she came back from her lunch break with the ring–"

"Shut up, Erika," Larry interjected, but Erika clearly didn't feel a need to listen to him because she continued rambling, and, all of a sudden, Michelle didn't seem to want to take the high road. He grabbed her arm just as she went to tower over Erika again, hearing her breathe heavily. "You're better than this," he reminded her. "She's trying to get in your head."

Michelle broke from his grip with a huff, walking back to the main hall and leaving them in silence.

"I guess we can put this case to rest now," O'Brian muttered.

Michelle ran back to Renee's desk, tears pricking the back of her eyes. Renee looked up, then looked back down with no reaction, much the way Tony had in the interrogation room, which only made it hurt more. Jack was nearby, having stepped out of Chloe's office just as she had returned.

"Erika tried to set you up. That's why your key showed up," Michelle explained. "We found the mole."

There was a beat of silence before she said, "Did you sic Bauer on her, too?" with a flat tone.

She sighed. "You know I had no idea he was going to–"

"Well, you should have figured it out," Renee snapped, cutting her off. "You didn't even question him when he said I was the mole."

"I didn't believe him, even for a second," Michelle insisted. "I told you, I trust you–"

"Then it shouldn't have been a matter of debate. This never should have happened."

Michelle pinched the bridge of her nose, unable to find a way to respond to that. She had messed up, big time. It didn't help that Renee had already been through a lot today. But Michelle now had to worry about the state of their relationship, even as coworkers, after today. Her heart broke at the thought of losing her like this. Michelle had spent the last six years trying to fight the demons from her past and create a future with her. However, the presence of so many people from CTU today — not that she blamed them, specifically — had brought up so many emotions that she thought she had worked through. It was messing with her head. In hindsight, she should have figured out that Jack felt the same. He had been trying to protect her because he had been thinking about Nina, particularly since it was likely he was already judging her a little for having a relationship with someone she worked with — again.

Now that they were in something of a quiet period — the FBI was only working on Dubaku's information now and the CIP device aftermath, and although the CIA anticipated some other insidious players to appear today, there was no sign of them yet — maybe she and Jack could take a moment to breathe. There was no point trying to push Renee any further. She had hurt her, so she needed space.

She walked away from Renee's desk and called Saul to update him, now saying with assurance that he could talk to Larry directly now.

"Thank God, we figured this out. Come down to Langley when you can."

"Will do," she said with a small smile, realising she should feel a lot happier about the work she had done today than she was.

Jack approached her as she hung up with a look of apology on his face.

"I should have trusted you, I'm sorry."

Michelle let out a breath. "It's fine. I know you were just looking out for me." She looked back at Renee and pressed her lips together. All she wanted to do was get on her knees and beg her to forgive her, but there was no point. Not now, at least. "I'm going to go out for a while. I need some air. Then I'll head to Langley."

"By yourself?" Jack asked, raising a brow.

Michelle bit her lip. "You're not going to let that happen, are you?"

"Come on," he said with a soft expression. "I haven't been to DC in years. Let's go for a walk."

They ended up at the Washington Monument, watching the sun slowly set over the horizon, the sky the colour of apricots. She and Renee had taken many walks around here on their lunch break or after work. They had talked about everything and anything here. It was their spot. Jack seemed to be in a slightly nostalgic mood, too, mentioning that he and Audrey used to eat lunch here sometimes.

"I'm sorry about what I did to Renee before," he said, not looking at her. "I assumed I was going to be more objective than you, and I was wrong."

"It's okay." She sighed. "I understand why it was hard for you."

There was a beat. "How serious were you and Renee?"

"I would have married her," Michelle admitted. "I almost did. I… I'm the one who stopped her from proposing to me because the timing was around the time I had to infiltrate the FBI, and I couldn't tell her anything. I didn't want to lie to her, so..."

He nodded. "I'm sorry."

The brief moment of peace was soon interrupted by the feeling of the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, a familiar sense of fear entering her gut. She glanced at Jack beside her, and he seemed to feel the same, his hand going to his weapon. Someone was watching them. A dark shadow slowly crept closer, making Michelle whip her head around. She found Tony, no longer wearing his leather jacket, sporting a black eye and a busted lip, gingerly sitting on one of the stairs behind them.

"What the hell happened to you?" Michelle asked.

"Payback for betraying David," Tony answered, his face stony as he continued staring out across the water, disregarding her visible concern. "It's not important. I need to talk with you both."

"About?" Jack asked, also craning to look at Tony.

Tony sighed. "I told you I was going to follow up on a lead."

"No, you said you were going to turn yourself in as soon as this was over," Jack corrected.

"And I will. But like I said, this ain't over yet," Tony rebutted, pushing right past Jack's clear annoyance. "There's going to be another attack here in DC."

Michelle thought about who else they had on their watchlist that was connected to Dubaku and might not be pleased by his arrest. "Juma?"

"How'd you know?"

"The CIA looked into him, too," Michelle explained. "We eased off since it didn't look like he was personally involved with the CIP device, but we haven't forgotten about him."

Jack then asked, "Who's the source?"

"Someone from Emerson's crew. He has a direct line of communication with the Juma regime in Sangala. It wasn't easy getting the information out of him, but I'm convinced it's accurate."

"Then hand it over to the FBI," Michelle suggested. "We've found the mole. That part's over. Chloe's there, too. You can trust–"

Before she could continue to reason with him, he cut her off with, "My source tells me that the window opens at nineteen hundred hours. By the time the FBI wades through their procedures and red tape, it's going to be too late."

"Then go to the CIA. Saul will take this seriously–"

"Michelle, we don't have time."

She huffed. "Do you really mean that, or are you just too stubborn to let him listen?"

"What's the target?" Jack said, stopping them before the conversation got heated again.

"He doesn't know the exact target, but it's definitely going to be of high value and high impact," Tony answered emphatically. "He gave me the name of somebody who's been involved in the planning."

"Who?"

"Ryan Burnett."

"Senator Mayer's Chief of Staff," Jack specified tersely.

He tipped his head in acknowledgement. "That's right. He's been involved from the very beginning."

"What about Mayer?" Jack followed.

"No," Michelle was quick to say. "He's CIA. He's not involved."

They both looked to her, confused. "The senate hearing was all a ruse to get you to DC, Jack." She smiled a little at him, seeing the subtle relief in his expression. "It was the only way I could track you down without making you think you were in danger. Mayer's been helping the CIA try to fish out the mole in Taylor's cabinet."

"Didn't do a very good job if he couldn't even bust his own Chief of Staff," Tony uttered.

She wanted to say something to his snide comment, but was too tired to muster the energy.

"You better not be lying, Tony," Jack warned.

"This is real," he implored.

"Burnett will be on Dubaku's list then. As soon as he finds out that Dubaku's in custody, he'll start running," Jack concluded.

Michelle sat up, trying to refocus herself on the case — as if she had focused on anything else for the last six years. "We need to get moving then."

"I've already got a tail on him. If you're with me, meet me at the corner of First and Constitution."

Neither of them said anything, but Tony stood and went to leave, putting his sunglasses back on. He paused, looking down at both of them and softening his voice. "I need your help. Please."

Michelle met his gaze. Although today had revealed a lot about Tony to her, and at times, she had considered him unrecognisable... his eyes told her she could still trust him.