A/N: I'm really nervous about how people are going to review, so I sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter. I do not own the brilliant show or the talented, handsome Mr. Macfadyen. Again, I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
The scruffy looking man pulled back at his hood with gloved hands, fingers clearly poking through the worn material. With his slightly dirty face clearly revealed to Zoë, she couldn't help but think how handsome he still looked.
He laughed that sensual, soft laugh before repeating, "Zoë?"
The blue eyes twinkled in the slanted sunlight, capturing his tall handsome form in a perfect picturesque way. Zoë shrunk away and softly whispered, "Tom bloody Quinn."
Zoë didn't miss the brief flicker of pain, which Tom had always managed to lock away in one of his many boxes, flash across his bright blue eyes. They stood out against his handsome pallor, his face lightly streaked with dirt. His long lashes framed the blue orbs, which were now composed and gazing down at Zoë. Zoë noted the light scruffy beard he was growing, the stubble light in color in comparison to his face.
Tom gave her a grin, a grin that caused her to shudder. As good looking as he was when he grinned liked that, it was one he wore near the end of his days at MI5. The "I'm fine, don't worry," grin that was just a mask to hide all of his pain buried for so long.
Zoë pulled away from him, and used the alley wall that she was leaning against to help herself to her feet. She tried to push away from Tom when he stepped forward and gently eased her up, concern flashing across his face.
"I'm fine, Tom, let go." She snapped as she pulled her arm out of his reach, her other arm wrapped around her sore stomach.
Tom frowned sadly and took a step back, "Sorry," he whispered, looking at the ground like a scolded child.
Zoë looked back and forth in the alley and finally asked, "What are you doing here, Tom? You should be long gone, you should be-"
"Dead?" he asked simply, his completely collected expression belying his ready-to-fight or flee body posture. The cold yet hurt tone did not surpass Zoë's ears as her face flushed red. She shook her head and responded, "You shouldn't be here."
Tom nodded once, quickly, "I know. But," he laughed harshly, another thing Zoë remembered from his last few days, "I have nowhere else to go, Zoë. MI5 is…excuse me, was, my life. All I ever knew…" he trailed off, as his eyes darted elsewhere.
Zoë, unsure as to what she should say or do, sighed. She looked him over again and thought, God, he must be sleeping in a bloody dumpster. She realized thathis eyes were now focused down the passage where Danny had disappeared. His head was cocked to the side slightly, hearing something that Zoë couldn't, the pounding of her heart too loud in her ears. Suddenly Tom turned on his heel and took off in the opposite direction without so much as a word; just as Danny appeared out of breath from the other side.
"Zoë! Are you okay?" he panted, placing his hands on his knees.
Zoë stared, open-mouth, in the direction that Tom had abruptly disappeared. She shook her head and glanced up to meet Danny's worried dark eyes. "I hardly know, Danny."
He stepped forward and leaned down to meet her eyes, which were focused where she last saw Tom. "Bloody hell, you look like you've seen a ghost!"
A brief smile flitted across her face before she answered, "Ghosts don't exist, Danny."
Danny expelled the breath he was holding, seeing she was fine now, as he straightened up and asked, "Then what do you call us?"
Zoë sighed and met his eyes, shrugging for his benefit, "The best damn anti-terrorist unit?"
Danny grinned and clapped her on the back, a little too roughly for her taste, "That sounds like something I would say."
Zoë smiled back and nodded, "I know," she stated before walking towards the alley exit she saw Tom flee out of. When she found herself on the sidewalk, she ran a hand through her short red hair. She caught herself looking around the area, realizing she was looking for Tom.
Danny appeared behind Zoë quietly before speaking, "Come on, Harry's going to want to know all the horrid details of our failed op."
"And…?" she trailed off, casting him a side-long look.
Danny grimaced, "We lost the guy, you got hurt, and we all feel like bloody hell."
Zoë sighed and shook her head, "Same old huh?"
"Yeah." Danny waited as Zoë finally felt like moving, and they began walking aimlessly, both trying to stall the imminent scolding from their boss.
They were both silent as they walked slowly, until Danny finally spoke hesitantly. "You know, sometimes I mis- never mind." He looked embarrassed as he cut himself off from the burst of speech, avoiding Zoë's look.
"Sometimes you miss what?" Zoë prodded, trying to keep up her side of the conversation as they walked.
Danny paused before asking, "Have you ever felt that you've seen someone that you know? But upon closer inspection you realize it was the hair that reminded you of that person? Or their eyes…their voice…their posture even?"
Zoë felt cold all over as she stopped walking and asked, "Why? Danny what are you going on about?"
Danny stopped as well and shrugged, "I miss Tom, Zoë. I feel like a bloody bastard for leaving him hanging on a thread like that…and feel even worse that I helped gnaw on it till it snapped…I feel guilty."
Zoë heaved a suffering sigh before looking up at Danny. He wasn't looking at her, but at something or someone across the street. A spark of recognition flickered across his dark eyes before it was replaced by the guilt he was recently talking about. Danny hung his head, jumping slightly as Zoë placed a hand on his shoulder in a friendly manner.
He looked up and met her eyes as she said, "I feel terrible too, Danny. I can't help but wonder how things would have turned out if we would have backed Tom up that day…hell, how things would have been before Herman Joyce buggered it all up." She spat out Joyce's name with such disgust, it made Danny falter before his reply back.
"If you came face to face with him again…what would you say?" he asked, unsure as to why he was so suddenly vested on the subject.
Zoë looked away briefly, pulling her hand back as if she was just bitten. "Why do you ask?"
Danny once again looked at the ground, "Can we talk in private? I mean later, after the whole 'catching Harry up' bit?"
Zoë felt a heavy weight in her stomach, she was certainly afraid of what Danny had to say to her, that couldn't be said now in public. She realized that Danny was looking at her, and she nodded quickly.
"Sure Danny, sounds good to me."
Danny smiled and nodded, "Okay."
An hour and a half later, Danny placed a glass of red wine in front of Zoë before throwing himself onto his couch, next to her. She barely reacted, sipping at her wine as if on automatic as she stared straight ahead without really seeing anything.
"So…what I'm about to tell you cannot leave this room. Understand?" he began, his tone of voice having her attention quickly. He leaned forward and repeated, "It cannot leave the room, Zoë."
"Well, spit it out then, Danny!" she snapped, her nerves frayed ever since her brief encounter with Tom and the dead weight of fright in the pit of her stomach.
"I saw Tom two days ago," he said quickly, raising a hand to stop her from interrupting, although she made no move to, "I know it was him. I was face to face with the man, in all his dirty, grungy glory. I had no idea what to say to the damn man- I was so out of it!"
"How? When?" Zoë managed to choke out after a tense moment of silence, her hazel eyes wide as she stared at Danny.
"I caught a glimpse of him exiting a pub, and decided to follow him, see where he led me. I wasn't sure it was really him, until I saw him light up a smoke under a street lamp…smoking a cigarette as if he had no care in the world. I kept following him, when he led me to an abandoned warehouse…where he was apparently living."
Zoë felt teas swell up in her eyes, her throat tight as she murmured, "I saw him too, today…in the alleyway…"
Danny went bug-eyed and gaped unattractively at her as he blurted, "Are you serious? You must be joking! It can't be coincidence...decommissioned agents should never be seen again…I shouldn't even have seen him! Did you talk to him?"
Zoë nodded slowly, "Briefly- oh Danny! He was so pathetic looking! So vulnerable and hurt…and I know I did that to him. MI5, his country…we did this to him!"
Danny looked away, Guilt taking another chunk of his heart. He hung his head, "The poor man is miserable without this job…he lived for this place, for his country…and we all abandoned him in his time of need, then kicked him when he was already down."
Zoë solemnly nodded, wiping at a few tears that managed to escape from her eyes and slide down her pink cheeks. She looked away and turned back quickly, "We need to help him. Even if I lose my job doing so, I will help Tom Quinn."
Danny's expression became serious as he agreed, "Same here."
Tom Quinn, the popular man at the moment between two guilt ridden friends, was packing up what little belongings he had with him and placed them into a small box. He paused as he placed an ID of himself into the carton, a memory dragging itself from his past into the present…the familiar voices so close, as if they were right there whispering into his ears:
"…No, you um…you have to put your real self, in a box…and only when you come home…and you open up the box and say ''Oh…h-hello, real me."
"What if the box…got lost?"
A pause.
"You'd have to reinvent yourself."
Tom waved his hand in the air as if brushing away the memory, as thick as it was; it was like a nagging fly buzzing around his head. He sighed and closed his eyes, willing himself to control his emotions.
After a minute he reopened his eyes and froze. A few yards away, a door that led into the dark warehouse was open, and standing within the chipped frame was Danny and Zoë. Tom willed his heart to stop pounding as he grabbed his box and placed it under his arm securely.
"Where are you going?" Zoë called out softly, her brows furrowed in confusion. Tom smiled briefly.
"Classified," he called back, his voice echoing in the large building.
Danny shook his head, "Oh come off it, Tom!"
Suddenly the man felt angry, Danny and Zoë had no right to come after him and ask him questions like this. Not after all that had happen…
Tom shook his head roughly and jabbed his finger in their direction, "No Danny, no! You followed me from the pub- why? Why didn't you just walk away Danny?" when neither Zoë nor Danny made a sound Tom took a step forward, shouting, "Answer me, damn it!"
Startled, Zoë found herself stepping closer towards Danny. Danny looked at her briefly before answering, "I missed you, Tom! I feel like hell, Zoë and I feel like bloody shite for what we did to you, Tom. We're sorry, we really are."
There was a long tensed filled pause before a harsh laughter escaped from Tom's pink lips. He had his eyes squeezed shut and his head thrown back as the sound echoed in the darkness. Danny looked at Zoë again, confused and worried.
"Bye, Danny, Zoë." Tom stated, his face composed as if he was not laughing or smiling seconds before. Danny took a step forward, about to protest, but Tom had already disappeared into the shadows.
"Damn it Tom! Come back!" Zoë shouted, having found her voice now. She felt the tears cascade down her face once again, her heart torn, "Come on you coward!"
There was a loud crashing sound behind them, causing them to jump and turn in time to see an angry Tom Quinn marching forward quickly. He was nearly upon them when he stopped abruptly, jabbing a finger in Zoë's direction, "Coward? Is that what you think of me, Zoë? I'm a coward?"
Zoë stuck her lip out defiantly, "I think you're a bloody coward Tom Quinn. Running away, like you always do," Zoë knew she was just blowing hot air, Tom Quinn was not a coward, nor had he ever shown cowardice.
Tom chuckled, "Nice try, Zoë," turning to Danny he asked, "Anything you'd like to call me, Hunter? A traitor? An ass?"
Danny's mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Finally he found his voice and whispered, "Would, 'I'm sorry,' count?"
A flash of sadness crossed over Tom's face before he replaced it with a cool grace, "I should go, it was…nice, seeing you again."
Zoë and Danny found themselves gaping at where Tom had just stood. Danny managed to compose himself and place a hand on Zoë's shoulder. He squeezed it gently and whispered, "Come, Zoë, he clearly wants nothing to do with us any longer."
Zoë shook her head gently and took a step forward calling out, "Damn you Tom Quinn! Damn you!"
Silence ensued, save for the heavy breathing from Danny and Zoë in the chilly building. Danny once again gripped Zoë's shoulder, steering her towards the door they had appeared in. Casting one last, pitiful look within the dark confines of the warehouse, Zoë finally allowed Danny to lead her towards their vehicle.
When they had finally left, Tom stepped out from within the shadows and whispered softly, "I'm so sorry," his breath visible only slightly as the words escaped from his barely trembling lips. His blue eyes, brimmed with tears, closed as he expelled a heavy breath and turned on his heel, ready to leave the warehouse for a new home.
TBC...
I realy hope you guys liked this chapter, so please review and tell me!
I'm a nervous wreck about it, so I hope I did the show some justice.
