A/N::: So... this has been sitting in my flash drive for quite sometime, just needed some editing. This is to get the last chapter's drama out of the way and add onto the "intense" plot (note: sarcasm)

Disclaimer::: Don't own the series (THAT I WANT TO FINISH READING SO I CAN CRY OVER THE ENDING IN PEACE).

By the way, I uploaded a one-shot a while back. You should check it out ;)

Ch. 10

Jeopardize;

To put somebody or something at risk of being lost, harmed, killed, or destroyed

When I came to, my senses failed me right away. The room was spinning madly; my vision was blurred, my sense of smell was lacking. My mouth felt slacked from medication, and any sense of touch was numbed. But instead of struggling and flailing, I relaxed my muscles and lay back, counting to 50 before opening my eyes again.

The room was bright and sharp; the strong scent of the vase of flowers beside me was overwhelming; the bed sheets beneath my body felt scratchy and used; and yet I managed a weak grin, conquering the muddled reality I had felt seconds ago.

"I'm back," I rasp, breaking into a coughing fit that rattled my aching rib cage. "Ow," I whimper, referring my heavily bandaged abdomen, "I must've been a cursing sailor after getting this one." I wince, realizing that Zach and I were not alone in the room; Dee Dee and Josh stood side by side at the foot of me bed, clutching each other as they traded looks. "Not that I've been shot at before," I add weakly. I glance at Zach for help, but he doesn't seem to notice, instead looking relieved at my consciousness.

"Oh man, Cam," he breathed, "you would not believe how many times you were in and out of it. I lost count after ten; you would mutter something and your eyes would flutter and then you were out like a light." His voice was light and teasing, but his white-knuckled grip on my hand told me the truth; he had actually been worried. I shot him a skeptical look, which translated to "I've had bullets hit me in worse places" which I doubt eased his mind.

"I don't recall any of that," I admit sheepishly; at least that's what I was going for, with the guest in the rooms and all. God, it's so hard to pretend after waking up from a temporary coma. "How many days have I been out for?"

"Six nights, five days," Zach answers, oddly specific. The look in his eyes softens. "The kids miss you, hon. We all did." I smile at him apologetically, opening my mouth to apologize, but he stops me with his Zach Look. Yes, the one that jumps rope with his This Is My Nonverbal Warning look, and his Don't Even Think About What You're Going to Say look, which is quite hard to pull off, but he manages it.

"Well, I'm back now," I say firmly, pressing the remote control to position myself better, ready to face my two guests head on. "Tell me all the gory details of the night I got shot." I wait for Zach to respond, but he doesn't. Instead, he avoids my gaze, staring hard at an invisible piece of lint by my legs.

"Actually Cam, Zach wasn't there when it happened." At this, I took a real good look at the couple across from me; and gawked at what I saw. I did not see the shining, madly in love couple that I'd seen a week ago; instead, I saw people who resembled them in a vague way, but lacked any facial expressions I'd come to relate to them.

A woman who had Dee Dee's features, but lacked the warmth that I had always related to her stood across from me, her eyes serious and without laughter. Her face, which was probably worse less than a week ago, had stitches running across the left side of her face to the bridge of her nose, similar to getting backhanded with a gun (trust me, I know). They would leave an ugly scar, but somehow I doubted it would take away from the beauty she held.

And the man she stood next to looked as if he'd been slugged hard in the face one too many times. His lip had a deep split running through it, his right eyes was turning yellow, a bruise that made me even wince. His left arm was in a sling that he held precariously by his side. His nose seemed slightly crooked, which led me to believe he'd broken it. His sapphire blue eyes that I had always related to naïveté and my own recklessness were now calm and steady, staring back at me, unflinchingly.

I couldn't fight back the Cheshire grin that broke my features. "Oh, man," I chuckle, "you guys look like shit." Zach's eyes widen at my words, and they stare at me in disbelief. "I mean, have you looked at yourselves recently? You look worse than I do after a whole day of having the twins all to myself. To think you guys would have epic battle scars, why I'll be damned." I laugh, ignoring the sunburst of pain that restrains my movement. Soon enough they join me, because I know that I look worse than they do combined. Even Zach fought back a smile, glancing as the high school sweethearts as they finally relaxed their tensed exteriors, letting out guffaws as they fought back to bite back a comment.

"Ok, ok, now that we've gotten rid of the tension, we should really go over what happened," I say after we fall into comfortable silence. "Sit down," I suggest, gesturing to the pair of chairs on my left. "Please," I add, after they hesitate. They do, and I let some of the pressure on my chest ease, knowing that the hole in my memory will soon be filled.

"Well, I guess we should clear the huddled white elephant in the room," Dee Dee murmurs, glancing at Zach and I. We share a look before focusing our attention on her and her movements. She squirms under our bemused gazes, taking in a breath before saying, in a confident, clear manner, "We know that you both work for the CIA as field agents, and that you're part of the special group that has been trained from the day you could understand what you'll be doing with your lives and the risks." We say nothing as her gaze shifts between us, unnerved. "To be specific," she rambles, "you went to a school for spies," at this she looks at me, and then to Zach she says "and you… Zach, I know how you've become what you are today. I'm sorry." Miraculously, Zach's gaze is even and amused, despite the fact that a well kept secret of his was just spoken. I shift my hand to feel for his pulse, which is a little quicker than normal, but nothing too alarmingly.

"And just where did you hear all of that?" His voice loses the humorous tone it usually holds when talking to civilians; his eyes have become cold and professional.

She sighs, gathering her thoughts before responding. "I didn't hear about it; I discovered it." I swear that I could've heard her wrong. Did she just admit to figuring out one of the most vital secrets of our country, and knowing our true identities? Did she really just willingly put her head on a platter?

I assume the same air of professionalism as Zach, stating coldly "So you realize that you've just admitted to knowing something we kill for to keep secret, also knowing that we're very good at our jobs, including cleaning up messes, without fail." I watch as she shrinks back, her husband moving forward, as if he could possibly shield her from our ruthlessness.

"Dee Dee didn't ask for this," he says angrily, sensing the change. "She's already been sworn to secrecy to the CIA, who's taken every precaution to cover up any tracks she might have left behind. If it makes you feel better, there's always someone watching us, an agent of some kind to keep us in check." He says the last words with such venom; it's hard to believe he hadn't heard the words before.

"Feel better?" Zach repeats, incredulous. "We're supposed to feel better knowing that despite all of that, you still managed to become targets? For all we know, the agent on duty to watch you could be dead and we're supposed to feel better?" he sneers, unable to restrain the earlier effects of Dee Dee's words. "This is why civilians shouldn't play with things they know nothing about. People just end up being dead or shot." The words were a direct implication to my wound, and I can't help but shoot him a look of wariness.

"We both know that my wound is no one's fault but my own," I say softly, although my fuzzy brain is none too reliable. I squeeze his hand hard, to pull him back towards me and into his seat instead of looming over them and me. After he does, he directs his smoldering gaze towards the window before getting up and walking over to it, burying his clenched fists into his pockets.

"I didn't know," a meek voice whispers. I shift my gaze back to the upset couple, who are witnessing a side of Zach which many people, after seeing it, do not live to tell of it. "I didn't know that trying to find you two would create such a mess of the lives of the people I care about." A pang of guilt strikes my heart as Dee Dee fights back tears. "I only wanted to know that you two were okay. That you had just ignored our wedding invitation, instead of something worse. I knew there was something different about you, all of you, and somehow that led me to a caved in, narrow path that was unforgiving." She swipes at tears that fell, and instead of begging eyes, her gaze was steady and firm, her blue eyes clear as she looked at me. "I'm sorry about what happened that night. But I'm not sorry that I found out, or that it's led us to you two." I blink, feeling too entirely, uncomfortably confused.

Unable to fight back my curiosity, I found myself questioning her motives and why she felt she needed to find us. She tells me how her parents were killed by terrorists during a suicide bombing years ago, a few years after we had all graduated. She sniffles and smiles, admitting she caught sight of Zach and me at the scene. I nod in confirmation as she continues; there was no point in lying now.

"I thought I was going crazy. And I decided I hated not knowing. I hated not knowing what was going on in the world and where tensions were rising. Maybe if I had, I would've told my parents to stay far away from any historic landmarks, specifically the highly populated ones. Maybe I could've-"

"No," I cut her off, "you couldn't have known. None us had any idea there was an organized attack, especially on Thanksgiving. You shouldn't blame yourself, not even an ounce." I sigh as a piece of hair falls in my face, and suddenly Zach's there beside me, brushing it away, his gaze no longer fierce.

"I'm sorry about your parents," he says quietly, "but you had no right going off and finding everything about our lives."

"I hadn't intended to," she admits, "but one thing led to another and in the end it was all timing and sources. Honestly, we hadn't known you two lived in this area. I was… floored when I found out. And I immediately destroyed every piece of information, and set ablaze the crumbs I followed to get to where I was." She hangs her head, her next words so weary, she could've been the one waking from a coma. "But it appears I was too late."

"Not entirely," I say carefully. "Someone from the inside might've tipped the enemy off. Tell me, the night off the attack, did your- our- assailant try to kidnap you or kill you?" I watch as they both muster themselves up, prepared to give me what I need.

"Kidnap us, most definitely," Josh replies confidently. "There was a sketchy van and everything waiting." He glances at his wife who reminds me suddenly of a small, fragile bird whose wings had been broken. "They seemed to know we weren't anything special; there were only three men tops. By the time you arrived, our spotter had come down and was taking care of one of the guys. The other two took us on individually, which is how we acquired, ahem, 'epic battle scars'." He shot me a loose smile that I returned. "It went by so fast… and then you were screaming our names, and they started to panic; that's when the guns came out. God, to have a gun pointed right at you, staring down the barrel…" He shuddered violently, and I couldn't help but be sympathetic; everyone's first time is traumatizing. "And then you rounded the corner and he just turned and fired." His voice cracks on the last word, and he ducks his head to hide the tears that we all know are there. "'How could he just shoot?' is what I asked myself. Is that normal? He could've killed you and gotten away with it. You were on the ground and there was blood everywhere, your blood." He chokes on a sob, covering his mouth with his fist.

"I screamed your name," Dee Dee continues, her whisper a loud echo in the silence. "You responded, reaching for us from your splayed form. You called our names, and that vile man pointed his gun at you again and I just- I just reacted and shoved him as hard as I could. I thought he'd dropped his gun so I turned to scream at you to get up, to just get up and stop bleeding and be fine but…you didn't." A tear slipped from her eye, her gaze so filled with remorse, my own eyes were moist with memories I did not remember. "He still had the gun and gave me this-" she traced the stitches on her face "-for pushing him. That's when Zach showed up and saved the day." She sniffled, a laugh edging into her words. "The first thing he saw was you- and god, I'd never want to be the target of his anger. He pulled out a gun and shot the one I was struggling with. The driver was dead within seconds, and they'd all been thrown into the back of the van. The other two were dead at the hands of our spotter. Someone called 911, but I guess it was a special line because they didn't show up in ambulances and cop cars. They hauled us all away and from what I gathered on the news, made it look like a gang shootout. All the shops had been closed, and the workers of the café had been given hush money. From there, it's just boring hospital stuff and dealing with Zach's, ah, broodiness, one might say." She shot him a joking smile.

I didn't wait for his response, instead sitting back and closing my eyes to digest it all. In the end, I proved to be useless and just another patient for Chief to pay the bills for. I guess I was just off my game, not fully ready to get back in the field. But then a paling thought occurred; What if I was never ready?

"You saved their lives." That was Zach and his broody self.

"Did I?" I respond, "Because it seems as though I was just another useless victim, getting shot and all."

"They would've taken us," Josh pipes in, no longer choking on fear.

"Yeah, if Zach hadn't shown up. I ended up lying in the street, bleeding out."

"No, don't you get it Cam? You're screaming and hollering distracted them and made them panic. You threw them off enough for me to get there and finish what you started. If it hadn't been for you, they would've been gone by the time I got there. You saved them, not me." I heave a sigh, the reality of it all too heavy to carry by myself.

"Then it's only fair to say that you saved my life as well, and I'll be forever grateful." I look at Dee Dee and Josh and make sure they understand. "Both of you," I add before they can say anything else.

A comfortable silence settles, now that everything is out in the open. Zach slumps in his chair, now at ease with our company.

"So I guess this means we'll forever be in each other's lives, huh?" Before they get a chance to respond to Zach's inquiry, a sudden jiggle of the door handle directs our attention to the door where inaudible shouts could be heard.

"Oh, no," I sigh, knowing the familiar authority of the voice.

"Baxters," Zach concludes. "Should I let them in?"

"Only if they have Abby and Matt. Otherwise they can go be worrywarts over someone else." Zach was already slipping out the door, the loud barks of voices easing in the room, filling it with noise before he closed it behind him.

"I figure you know about them as well?" I ask.

Dee Dee nods. "Along with Macey McHenry and Elizabeth Sutton, alumni of the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women."

I don't bother holding back a grin. "Then welcome to our world."

So...yeah. Any ideas on where to go next?