Hello :) here's the next chapter. We'll get back to Marta in 22, promise. Questions will be answered! Thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter :) I hope you like this installment too. I'm going to miss writing Marta and Aaron when it's over.

Please read and review.

21

"You didn't think this was going to be that easy, did you?" Aaron spits out another mouthful of blood onto the floor, "I've survived more than your worst nightmares." He breathes heavily and picks up the dusty gun from the floor. Alarms are blaring out everywhere and he's caught in the middle of them like a fly in a web. "I can't stop it now."

"Too late." Byer nods, barely standing, eyes fiery with anger. He stares at Aaron, the warehouse dark except for a single flickering light, "You can't do anything to change what you did, you can't bring back those people you killed. What's done is done."

"On your orders!" Aaron seethes, waving the gun a little, "It was your orchestration, your whim, your will." He's yelling so hard his throat is sore; he can't hear, he can't see – going in deaf, dumb and blind. "So you tell me what to do, Eric. What do I do now?"

"You've got a bullet left. Make it easy on yourself." He smirks a little, "That's what you really have isn't it, Agent Cross? Suicidal tendencies…" Byer chuckles, "Even before we inducted you, before you joined up, it's what you always wanted. Peace from the world because you didn't fit in and never will."

Aaron shakes his head, "Psych evaluations aren't going to get me to aim this anywhere but your head." He pulls off the safety. "Tell me where she is or I will kill you."

Byer flips out a flash drive between his fingers like a cigarette, looking at it. He looks back up at Aaron, "What did you find in Russia anyway? I assume this is some kind of proof."

"Throw it to me." Aaron starts to shake with impatience; he's running out of time to get it to Jason and find Marta. "Or I'll-"

"You'll what?" Byer laughs again, "If you kill me, you'll never find her or Bourne. You'll be alone… again." He slides the flash drive back into his breast pocket, "Just give it up, Cross. You'll never win against the entire organisation. They won't believe you, even with proof. In this country, a potential terrorist is a terrorist. You'll be branded for life, however long you end up living for. She'll die someday, knowing that you made her into a murderer who'll never clear her name." He stands up straighter, buttoning his jacket nonchalantly. "You may as well put that to your head, not mine, for all the good it's doing you."

Aaron stares at him, "How do you sleep at night?" He doesn't let the gun waiver, even for a second. "How do you kiss your children, look at your wife without feeling any guilt?"

"We do what is necessary." Byer spits through his gritted teeth, "I don't give a damn how we protect what's ours; we do it by any means. Collateral damage is unavoidable. How many agents have you killed to get here? Did you stop to think about their parents, their wives, partners, children?"

Aaron swallows, smiling sadly, "Collateral damage is unavoidable." He grits his teeth. "Doesn't mean I have to like it." He fires directly into Byer's shoulder, relishing the man's cries of pain as he collapses to the dirty ground. Aaron stalks over to Byer on the ground, tossing the empty gun away. He kneels over Byer's stomach, plunging two fingers into the bleeding wound and smirking as he screams. "You like being collateral damage, Eric?"

"You wasted your shot." He spits out from beneath Aaron, going rapidly paler as he gets angrier. "You should've killed me."

"Too quick." He twists his fingers and Byer screams again, "Tell me where they are, Byer. I can do so much worse to you, you will beg me to put a bullet in your head."

Byer grits his teeth, unable to move from Aaron's secure hold on his torso, "Fuck you. I'll go kicking and screaming before I give in to a terrorist." He smirks.

Aaron digs his fingers in and touches the nerve and Byer's screams nearly shatter the battered windows. "You brought me here alone, you made it just me and you and you wanted to torture me. How does it fucking feel, Eric? How does it feel to be the one on the sharp end of the knife with no hope?"

"At least I'm not you." He mutters and passes out cold on the floor.

Aaron pulls his fingers out of the wound, incensed. Nothing was going to stop him from finding out where they'd taken Marta. He couldn't go into the belly of the beast without proof she was being held there, even if it did eat him up to think about what they were doing to her. Aaron quickly pulls the flash drive from Byer's pocket and slides it back into his own, feeling around for a wire or a cell phone.

Suddenly, Byer flips them over, pinning Aaron to the ground, "Fuck you." He smirks, punching Aaron as hard as he can, Aaron's nose breaking on impact, blood spurting everywhere as pain spreads over him like hot tar. Byer hits him again and again as Aaron tries to find purchase on the ground enough to get an upper hand, his boots slipping on the concrete floor as Byer breaks one of Aaron's ribs, making him grunt in agony.

The alarms stop suddenly. The light keeps flickering in the dark silence for a split second before the click of another gun's safety getting turned off punches through the deadly haze. Aaron blinks past blood spatters and broken bones and sees a saviour standing tall.

"Jason." He mutters with a smile.

Bourne is ragged and looks battle-worn but holds the gun steady to Byer's head, barely half an inch from the barrel resting on his scalp. "Eric Byer; heard a lot about you lately."

Byer stiffens and stares down at the workmanship he's done to Aaron's face. "Jason Bourne, haven't heard enough about you to last a lifetime."

"Stand up. Slowly." Jason commands, his jaw set tight. "You made one hell of a fuck-up of this, you know that."

Byer follows Jason's command, turning around with his hands up in surrender. "Nobody's perfect, right? I'm just a guy, trying to do right by my country. You can't fault me for that. You both did it too, willingly." He says calmly, his hands bloodied and bruised as he waves them like white flags. "You can try and rationalise what we all did but it's the same in the end. We killed people, dangerous and innocent. We dragged people we loved into warzones and used them to our advantages or just as warm bodies to hold so we'd stop the faces of the dead running through our memories." He shake his head, eyes cold and empty, "You can't stop it; all of them are burned into our consciences and rightly so. If you believe in it, I'll burn in hell." He smirks slowly, "And all of you are going to be right there beside me, burning too."

Jason wavers for a second, a split second enough for Byer to take the advantage and charge him, knocking the gun out of his hand and to the ground far behind them in the dark. Aaron scrambles up to his feet, the piercing agony of pain threatening to render him unconscious if not for his goal; prove Byer wrong and save a life instead of end one.

Bourne punches Byer and twists his arm behind his back, taking advantage of his weakness and slamming him against the wall. Aaron reaches the gun and picks it up, yelling, "Jason!" to him as he throws it with whatever he had left inside him. Jason catches it and fires just after Byer kicks Jason's knee; the shot blasts into the roof, making plaster fall like snow on top of them. Byer grabs the gun and kicks Jason in the stomach, sending him reeling backwards into Aaron.

The weight of Jason against him makes Aaron stumble backwards as Byer pulls the trigger on the gun. For a second, he's not sure whose blood is what he can see.

Jason pales and looks at his chest as he falls backwards, the blood flowing like a waterfall, bathing him in scarlet. Aaron shudders and pulls him back, placing his palms over the wound just above Bourne's heart. There's so much blood, pooling between his fingers and flowing back out. Jason's eyes are wide and accepting. He reaches up with cold hands to grip Aaron's wrist tightly.

"No, no, fuck you, you've come too far." Aaron mutters and puts pressure on Jason's chest, knowing deep inside him that it's pointless. He knows which shots kill and Jason's pretty much dead already, "No, come on, stay awake!"

Blood gurgles up in Jason's mouth and he lays back flat against the floor as he gives up the ghost, grip slackened around Aaron's shaking wrist. His eyes dull, chest stilled; dead. No words, no song, no hero's last stand. He's just dead on the floor beneath Aaron's bright, bloodied hands.

Aaron stands up slowly, the blood dripping from his fingers onto the floor, splattering on his boots. Byer has Jason's gun trained on Aaron, cold and dead in the eyes.

Aaron looks up, a broken man made of rage, "If you've got a bullet left in that gun, I suggest you use it now or I will not stop until everything you know is destroyed."

Byer pulls the trigger without hesitating.

A/N: Please don't hate me; I had to do it. I just felt like Aaron needed the push and Jason's death was sadly all I could think of to push him off the edge. And yes, Jason's dead. No tricks, no doctors or miracles. Poor Jason, I've treated him so badly. I'm horrible.