Bureau asked Peyton Wills to get to the Joe Carroll case immediately when Joe first escaped and ended Sarah Fuller. She was flattered but the case was cold. She didn't want to have a part of this little cult investigation. Carroll was famous of his cult, his followers. What had Debra called it? Carrollism. Peyton's expertise was cults and killers in general. Peyton wasn't happy about the bureau's decision. She had been assigned to this only because she had visited Carroll in prison once. Only because she was interested in Joe's obsession Edgar Allan Poe. Peyton had been under investigation by the bureau so she did not dare to question its decisions.

Like a good little agent she was, she obeyed. Surely Ryan was not happy about her intervening but what was she supposed to do about it? Besides Peyton had shadowed Ryan for the past few weeks and the nights he had encountered drinking; a lot of drinking. Only then had Peyton slipped herself. At the age 26 she had graduated to be in the FBI. She got picked with the firsts. Top scores from the tests all though her quick eyes and anger management were sometimes a problem.

She had dark combat boots, perfect to run with, great and airy in her feet. Her black and stretchy skinny jeans were also perfect. Her upper body had more convincing federal agent look; white buttoned shirt and black jacket with tiny shoulder pats. She wore pilot sunglasses as she entered her new work building. Her Glock 23 was firmly in her holster and her badge in her chest pocket. That was clearly a mistake. Every sharp glance directed at her came from her tough out core and bitchy look. Peyton wasn't going to do anything about that; she was who she was.

Peyton had pleaded the bureau to let her wear those clothes. With the dumb reason of 'it's easier to work at the field with these' went through. Surely that didn't have anything to do with who her father was. Peyton didn't waste much thought on her father anymore. Her light brown ponytail was tight and wavy.

When she got out of the elevator and on to her floor she pulled her leather briefcase closer to her body. The briefcase contained a file of the case and a water bottle with a sandwich. And her tiny laptop.

"Peyton Wills?" Peyton turned around and faced a young male, probably the same age as her. Mike Weston, Peyton recognized.

"Mike Weston," Peyton raised her brows and looked the young man from head to toe. Mike seemed surprised but gestured Peyton to follow him. He had a very casual outfit. Peyton smiled; guess she wasn't the only one. He led Peyton deeper into the office. They walked past the labs into a meeting room. There were only Debra and another man for her. Maybe this was the small group that really investigated the case. Now she had come to intrude it. Bureau and her father probably enjoyed this.

"No introductions needed, I've done my homework," Peyton said before anyone had a chance to speak up.

"Oh?" Ryan said, it was more of a statement than a question really. Peyton's storm grey eyes went straight to him.

"Ryan Hardy, born in 1966, dad was a NYPD street cop; now deceased. Former federal agent and 2003 caught Joe Carroll on the act trying to kill Sarah Fuller. But unfortunately Carroll stabbed you in the heart and now you have a pacemaker. Wrote a book about him; The Poetry of a Killer," Peyton smiled at her own smartass behavior. Ryan rubbed his chin and smirked.

"You're a fan?" his question made Peyton laugh.

"No, ugh, god no," she shook her head. Then her eyes went to Mike. "Mike Weston, you on the other hand are a fan of Ryan. You studied political science at Wesleyan and your dissertation was about Carroll. A true expert I see. You're one of the youngest of your unit."

"Please Peyton, save your speech of me," Debra said in a commanding tone. Peyton narrowed her eyes but remembered her father's advice. No one's going to trust you if you're a smartass. Don't be a smartass, Peyton.

"Specialized in cults and fringe religions, guess we have something in common," Peyton slashed a smile and then took her sunglasses finally off; placing them in her pocket. "So, the case so far… He tried to escape?"

The escape word made everyone in the room grunt. Peyton arched her brows and studied Ryan's body language. Peyton got slightly annoyed of the silence in the room. Finally Debra opened her mouth.

"Yes," Debra said with confidence. Peyton rolled her eyes. That was something that Debra should not be confident about. Peyton smiled and changed the weight to her other leg. Peyton wanted to laugh within. Shouldn't they worry of another escape try? Joe Carroll's followers were powerful and they could be everywhere.

"So you don't worry him try escape again?" Peyton chuckled silently and eyed her colleagues. Again with the silence, come on people! Peyton threw her briefcase onto the metal table and moved her hands on her hips. She looked intimidating. Really this was pissing her off, no one really told her anything. No one really spoke up.

"Okay am I going to do all the talking here or is someone going to tell me what's happening? Huh? How's it going to be?"

"We think you should visit Joe. The bureau has given great recommendations and Joey is missing."

"Joey? His son?" Peyton seemed amused. "I don't think he's going to kill him."

Ryan hit the table and got intimidatingly close to her. Peyton guessed she wasn't the only one with an anger management issues. Peyton wanted to attack Ryan but it wouldn't be fair to Ryan. Poor guy was about 20 years older than her. She glanced at him from head to toe.

"Careful with your pacemaker Ryan," Peyton was an ass. She knew it. But in the world that she came from, if you weren't an ass, or a bully, you would get bullied. And that was exactly what she had dealt with her entire childhood. Mike got to Ryan and grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him back. Peyton's comment had only made things worse.

"Just ask about Joey. Okay?" Ryan calmed down.

Peyton cocked her head and smiled. She nodded with a tiny smirk. "Okay I'll do that."

Peyton got everyone on their toes. An agent coming straight from the bureau and that agent being Harry Wills' daughter had them even wearier. Harry Wills was Peyton's dad. He was one of the top agents in the whole bureau. When Harry met Peyton's mother Maria Peyton was conceived. Maria was a crime scene investigator. If you wouldn't say that Peyton didn't have a career in the Federal Bureau of Investigation you would lie.

The way to the investigation room was hallow. The walls were radiating coldness. Everyone was calm. Mike had offered to escort Peyton into the room, although she really didn't need an escort she had said yes. Peyton's heart was beating fast with every step closing the distance between her and Joe Carroll. These moments made adrenaline run through her veins. Peyton was really an adrenaline junky. She just didn't want to admit it.

Joe was already waiting anxiously to see what story her new visitor bared. The glass between them wasn't a barrier as it was a speed bump. Not every visitor could see through the see through plastic wall. Finally his visitor walked to sit on the chair. Joe cocked his head and stared at the girls stormy eyes. She owned a very intriguing look. Her light brown hair was beautifully fallen on her shoulders. It had been raining outside because of the wetness of her hair.

Joe noticed her notebook and her pencil. He frowned.

"Hello," Joe said with a smirk.

"Hey," the girl said smiling. "Uh, I don't know what to say. It's a pleasure finally meet you."

"What brings you here?"

"Peyton, my name is Peyton," Peyton said with a shaky breath. "I came here because of your book, the Gothic Sea."

Joe's smile couldn't get any wider than that. Another friend, maybe?

"I really admire your work."

Joe was already in the room waiting anxiously. Who would they send now? He hadn't requested anyone so this would be a true surprise. Emma's little stunt with Joey had stirred things up but surely they wouldn't let Ryan in after he broke Joe's fingers. So the door opened and a familiar female face stepped in. Where had he seen her? Oh yes now he remembered. The innocent little fan girl, if you could call her that. Now she seemed confident woman with a good education. Her name was Peyton, now he remembered.

Peyton looked at Joe. He had broken fingers but still a grin on his face. The jail suit didn't really suit him. The interrogating room had two cameras, one pointed at Joe and the other at anyone who's interrogating. Mike stepped aside and didn't enter the room so Peyton sat herself casually into the chair. She didn't make any eye contact. Peyton could already imagine Ryan and Debra wonder what she was doing.

"Good and bad no longer existed. It was all degrees of evil now. Gwendolyn held his dying body as the storm raged on. Death had finally arrived, and it was glorious to the touch," Peyton moved her gaze into Joe's dark brown eyes. He tilted his head, studying Peyton. What in earth did she want from him?

"I remember you," he said with a wide smile. "Peyton."

"Oh I'm surprised you remembered me. You've been so busy the past years with all your friends visiting you," Peyton leaned back on the uncomfortable chair. Joe had shackles that were attached to his feet as well. She had nothing to be afraid of, still her heart beat like it was about to die. This was going to take much more of her energy than she thought. Joe raised his brows and looked impressed. Peyton wasn't as dumb as she looked like.

"Of course I remember you. You visited me many times," Joe looked at the camera with a smile.

Peyton looked at him with a soft smile before she started to talk again. She had visited him actually a quite few times, but she wasn't his fan. Okay she was. He was a serial killer and a psychopath, but that didn't mean that he didn't own an interesting ideology. Although the book itself was a commercial and a critical failure.

"So I'm supposed to be here to talk about Joey."

"What a surprise. You have me wondering," Joe's eyes still didn't leave the camera.

Payton cleared her voice and looked at him. "Mister Carroll if you could direct your focus on me."

"Oh pardon me. Yes what were you saying?"

His apologizing made Peyton roll her eyes. He had always been like that, playing mind games. Peyton sighed and rubbed her forehead. He wasn't going to tell anything. But Peyton knew that Joey wouldn't be hurt.

"I was asking about your son."

"I talked to Claire about this already," Joe sighed but not a muscle on his face twitched. Peyton breathed in deeply and glanced at the camera filming her, attached on the ceiling. Her look revealed more than words to Ryan, Debra and Mike all staring at the screen.

Ryan scratched the back of his head in anxiety. Joe wasn't going to say anything. He had people everywhere and what if Peyton was one of them? Maybe it was far-fetched but Philip Wills' daughter would be the least suspected person to be a member of the cult. That made her the perfect target to Joe. Peyton had visited Carroll in prison a couple of times and Joe's suggested there were more visits than Peyton led on.

"Ryan look at this," Debra pointed at the screen that showed Peyton leaning closer to Joe. Before Peyton did anything she looked at the camera with a meaningful gaze.

"Okay then, Joe. Why don't you tell me about your plan?" Peyton's expression turned into more kind and playful. Joe tilted his head slightly and smirked.

"What plan?"

"Your escape plan."

The talk with Joe gave Peyton nothing. He didn't admit anything, he didn't tell anything. The only thing he agreed to talk about was Peyton herself. And she didn't have time for that. The bureau was still stepping on her heels and she didn't like the distance they kept to her. She swore Joe and his cult into the lowest parts of hell as she walked back to her hotel.

She could not believe how shitty her first day was. She needed a drink, quickly. Before she had gotten to her hotel she had visited a liquor store and bought a bottle of vodka; and donuts. She didn't usually eat such trash but this was an unusual day anyway. With a sigh Peyton got to her room and glared around the corridor. She knew that Mike Weston and Ryan Hardy were staying in one of the rooms in this corridor but she didn't know where.

She opened the room door with her card key and got quickly inside, hiding her paper bag. When she closed the door behind herself and got the lights she could finally sigh deeply. Ah the peace of an own room; that was luxury.

"Peyton," a firm and a low tone voice scared her. A man in a dark suite was sitting on her bed. His face wrinkly of age and eyes dark with thought. Peyton swallowed deeply and walked over to her little dresser and placed the brown paper bag on it. There was heard a little mingling between the glass and the table. The man raised his gaze from the floor and directed it straight into Peyton's eyes. She hoped he wouldn't be mad. She hoped that nothing bad had happened. And she hoped that the bureau wouldn't bury her in more deep shit than she already was in.

"Dad," her dry voice said with a slight twitch of eye. Her father smiled at her and got up from the bed. He walked slowly over the now looking like a little girl and coughed. He was old and forcing her little girl to do something she wouldn't want to do would be hard. He had no choice but to do it. In all fairness he should be the one to tell her that.

But now, when Philip saw his little girl, look lowered from respect and awe he felt bad. The next sentence would shock Peyton's world so radically that she might not ever get back to her life. Never. She might have to go to witness protection service, but what the bureau said the agents did. Especially secret agents.

"What I'm about to tell you, you need to keep completely to yourself. You won't tell anything to Debra Parker, Ryan Hardy or Mike Weston. Not anyone do you hear me? Only I and only the most trustworthy people in the bureau know this."

Peyton was getting anxious. This cannot be the plan the FBI had disqualified. She would not do any of it. She would leave; run away. And who knows, maybe become a part of Joe's cult? She would be safer there than out here. The bureau would find their problems and eliminate them. Sooner or later that's going to happen to Peyton as well.

"The raven will fly," Philip whispered while keeping a full eye contact. "You can do it Peyton."

Mike Weston saw a guy in a suite leave Peyton Wills' room. He frowned at the man. Why would a guy wearing a suite come out of Peyton's room? Well Mike Weston wasn't a fool, he was from the FBI obviously. At least he hoped so. So Mike Weston decided to go and check out that Peyton was okay, you wouldn't want any Joe Carroll fans going and killing probably their best agent. The room door was slightly open. He knocked on it before walking in.

Peyton was crying on the edge of the bed with a bottle of vodka.

When someone walked in Peyton didn't move. She just stared at the floor with the bottle of vodka. Just a couple of minutes ago she had cried her eyeballs red and her makeup ruined. She had ruined her life. If she wouldn't be an FBI agent this wouldn't happen. She glanced at the glock 23 on her night table, feeling the need to grab it and shoot her brains out.

"Are you okay?" the voice startled her, making her break into more tears. Mike Weston stood by the door. Peyton sobbed and raised her eyes with an arch of brow. He looked just so perfect.

"Well why are you just standing there? Come here and comfort me," Peyton said and tried to choke back her tears. She brought the vodka bottle on her lips and poured the stinging liquor down her throat. It tasted like shit but she needed something to comfort her and if Mike wasn't going to do it. Mike closed the door and walked slowly over the bed. He sat down and grabbed the bottle out of Peyton's hands. She almost started crying like a baby. The warm light of the hotel room and Peyton breathed deeply and turned her whole body towards Mike. He didn't like where this was going.

"Well mister Weston," Peyton said quite drunk. Peyton started to get closer and put her hand on his shoulder with a tilt of her head. "If you won't let that comfort me why won't you?"

"Because tomorrow is work and probably a new body," he said and tried to deny all Peyton's touches and flirts. Peyton pouted playfully but made Mike fall on his back on the bed and Peyton jumped on top of him. She cleared her voice and held him down on the bed.

"Mike I'm really not that drunk and I'm just looking for some comfort. No emotions just sex, okay?" Peyton asked and Mike seemed surprised. After a while of silence Peyton crushed her lips into Mike's. It was better than she had expected and Mike got into it nicely. They started to kiss more passionately and started removing clothes. A bulge in Mike's pants made Peyton smile into their kisses.

"I guess that means yes," she moaned when he kissed her neck.

This would be Peyton's last memory of this case. The feeling of pleasure and the smell of sex and sweat. This would be a perfect ending really.