The next morning Emily snuck out of Lia's apartment, not wanting another argument, and walked right into the CIA building. It didn't take long before there were a dozen agents with guns on her, and cuffs were slapped on her wrists. They dragged her off to an interrogation room, and secured her to the table, before standing and staring at her.
"Do you think we're just going to let you off, since you turned yourself in? Cause it doesn't work like that sweetheart, you killed one of ours, you're going nowhere but federal prison."
Emily remained silent, staring tiredly at the two-way glass, ignoring the angry agents.
"Damn it, you walked in here, you talk to us!" He leapt up form his position on the wall, and leaned less than an inch from her face.
"You really want me to talk, give me five minutes with Matt. Then I'll tell you everything I know." She asked quietly, once he'd moved himself out of her personal space.
"Yeah, right. You think we're going to let you talk to your boyfriend?"
"If you want a confession, yeah, you'll let me." Emily told him with smugness she didn't feel. She was playing their game now, and it felt so wrong to be on this side, to be the crimminal, to be handcuffed to a table.
"You're going to give us a confession for five minutes with your boyfriend?" He was evidently bewildered by this thought.
"Yes."
"Honey, he isn't doing it right if it only takes five minutes." One of the agents cracked.
"I need to talk to him, it's important." She ignored their barb.
"Fine, we'll give you your five minutes, then you're spilling you guts, deal?" He relented, figuring they had nothing to lose.
"Deal," she parroted back to him.
"Bower, go get Flannery from the prison." The head agent instructed another one, who hurried out to do as asked.
Two hours later, Emily was still waiting for them to get back from the prison, nervous as can be, but trying to appear bored. The agent who'd gotten in her face was still in the room with her, watching her as they waited, his eyes studying her. The door suddenly opened, and Bower enter with Matt in tow, wearing full chains.
Matt stared part shocked, part horrified at seeing Emily. They hadn't told him why he was here, he'd assumed it was for more interrogation, but he stared at her now, unsure what to feel. He loved her and missed her, but he sent her away to protect her and their child, their child which he could tell she certainly wasn't carrying anymore. His heart started pounding so hard, he didn't even notice them taking the chains off.
Emily watched his eyes when he came in, shock, love, and fear radiated through them, and she felt the guilt of losing their child weigh upon her. He was the sight she'd been missing for two weeks, the one source of comfort she'd desperately needed now, and she only had a few minutes with him. A few minutes during which she had to break his heart.
"Alright, you have five minutes." He announced, after having taken Emily's cuffs, and leaving the two alone.
"Em, what happened? What are you doing here?" Matt demanded quickly, rushing over to her, and grabbing her by her arms.
"A few days ago, we all got sick on the boat, and I, I lost the baby, Matt." The tears she'd struggled to hold back over the last day or so, broke, and began washing over her face in a pained flood.
Matt didn't say anything, he'd already figured as much when he saw her. Instead he wrapped his arms tightly around her as his own tears began to fall, tracing rivers over his cheeks.
He pulled back from her after a moment, and tears still falling asked, "Tell me what happened."
"People started getting sick, it was cholera, and Jake called for help, and got the sickest on another boat. I fainted, they must have carried me on, but after a while I woke up at a hospital in French Polynesia. I started bleeding a lot, they, they," she began crying too hard to speak again.
"It's okay," Matt told, hugging her again.
Emily pulled back this time, and still crying, "they had to take the baby, they cut me open and took our baby."
He watched her crying, practically hysterical as she spoke, and though his heart broke for their lost child, he was thankful they managed to save Emily.
"We had a son, Matt. We should have had a son, but now he's at the morgue, and we can't even bury him." She moved back into him, her arms wrapped as tight as she could around him, face planted in his shoulder.
Matt's mind was whirling about; their baby boy was dead. He didn't make it because they were on the run, if they had been home, in LA, he would have lived. Emily wouldn't have gotten sick on that boat, and he would have been holding his son in another 19 weeks. Matt held on to Emily just as tightly as she held to him, his tears flowing as he tried to offer her comfort while absorbing this news. Their child gone, just like that.
Three CIA agents shifted uncomfortably as they watched and listened to the couple through the two-way glass. Cheryl had joined moments before Matt had arrived, having received a phone call from her friend, Ken. She watched the awkward CIA agents with annoyance; they put her friends in this position, they should see the fallout.
"So those two look like killers and terrorists to you?" She asked unkindly, sarcasm more than just tingeing her voice.
"Listen, they have my sympathies, but that doesn't excuse what they did." The head agent insisted.
"Yeah, on that. Here." She handed him two thick folders.
"What the hell is this shit?"
"That is a complete and thorough background check on Alex Diallo performed by one of the Bureau's best Intelligence Analysts. And this one holds statements, from his parents, teachers, friends, former employer, basically everyone who has ever known the kid, and couldn't possibly imagine him as a gangbanger."
"This is supposed to prove what?"
"If Alex Diallo isn't a gangbanger then all, except one of your charges against Matt just died. No aiding and abetting, no obstruction, and there sure as hell is no treason. All you have left on him is forgery."
"If this says what you say it does. But, we still have Scully here on murder." He spit at her.
"You're really enjoying the press on this one aren't you?"
"Hey, I didn't give them the dumb nicknames, I'm just utilizing them."
Cheryl shook her head, stupid ass, "on the murder charge, I have a few things that will help with that too." She dumped a thin manila envelope on the pile of folders.
"And this is?" He asked her impatiently.
"An affidavit from Border Patrol confirming that Agents Matt Flannery and Emily Lehman were stopped going across the border at 7:18 the night that your agent was murdered. This is accompanied by a copy of the ME's report stating TOD as between 7-8 pm. And lastly, a statement from a snitch handler in the Bureau's Drug Unit, describing a conversation he had with a snitch, who is going to remain anonymous for his own protection, about the murder. Specifically, about how three young men from this gang were discussing it the day after in great detail, and cleaning the gun they claimed to have used. They originally went to kill my negotiators, who weren't home, so they settled for your agent, who I assume was also looking for my agents." Duff's friend had finally gotten back to him this morning, and the HRT agent had gone speeding through the Bureau to get the statement to Cheryl.
"I bet you're real pleased with yourself."
"I'll be pleased when those two people have their lives back." She nodded at the glass, and the couple embracing through tears behind it.
"We still have them on the forgery charges."
"You know how we were talking about the press about two minutes ago? Well, I like them too, and when I hand them the extra copies I have of this stuff, and describe how even though it proves their innocence, after forcing these two people on the run for two years, and knowing that they just lost their child, you still insist on holding them for a law they broke freeing an innocent young man." She held his gaze while she made her promise in an icy tone.
He glared back at her, pissed he was beat. Then he relented. "We'll have to look over this stuff before we release them."
"You have until the end of business today, five o'clock should give you plenty of time. If not I find my friend at the Times, and he gets their story in tomorrow's paper." Cheryl didn't wait for a response, but turned her heel, and marched out the door.
Matt and Emily were startled by the door opening, but knew they'd been there for much more than the five minutes she'd been promised.
"Hey." Cheryl greeted, allowing them to collect themselves. "So, you two will be out of here by tonight."
"What?" They both stammered.
"We collected enough evidence to prove your innocence. Unless they want to look bad in the press, they'll drop the charges and release you both tonight."
"T-Thank you Cheryl," Matt stuttered, too stunned to know what else to say, while Emily just nodded her head enthusiastically agreeing.
"I want my best negotiators back. The Bureau keeps sending me these trainees that are just not ready for LA's crazies yet." She grinned, trying to lighten the mood a bit, and also not sure what to say.
"They are really going to let us go?" Emily wondered in disbelief.
"Yeah, yes, you will be free to bury your son." Cheryl gave her a meaningful look.
"Thank you," she replied softly, tears in her eyes.
"Which funeral home do you want to use? I'll call them to pick him up, so the morgue doesn't get antsy." If they left the baby unclaimed, the morgue might get impatient and shove him in a state grave.
"Ginty and Jones, they took care of my grandmother a few years ago. And his name is Sean, Sean Flannery." Sean had been the boy's name that the Matt and Emily had finally agreed upon.
"Sean Flannery," she said with a thoughtful smile, the reality of the child hitting her just then. "It sounds right."
"Yeah, it does." Matt said sadly.
"I have a few things to take care of and the CNU, but I'll be back to pick you up tonight. Just sit tight for a while longer." She gave them both hugs, and walked out the door.
Just a note, I'm not sure how people go about the death of a baby at 21 weeks, but since it's pretty developed by then, and called a stillbirth not a miscarriage (second trimester semantics), I decided it should get buried. Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you for reading and reviewing!