Panov's POV

It took him a few seconds to realize David was unconscious. It should not have surprised him given everything that had recently happened. Uncharacteristically barking orders to the soldiers he ensured that David wouldn't die of shock.

Mo should have expected David's reaction to Conklin. The man had only recently realized and acknowledged his mistake. An assumption made based on information he had tricked out of Mo. A memory that still left a bitter taste in the doctor's mouth.

Flashback

Dr. Morris Panov walked through the double doors of the psychiatric ward on the third floor of Bethesda's Naval Annex and approached the nurses' counter. He smiled at the uniformed aide shuffling index cards under the stern gaze of the head floor nurse standing beside her.

Apparently the young trainee had misplaced a patient's file—if not a patient—and her superior was not about to let it happen again.

"Don't let Annie's whip fool you," said Panov to the flustered girl. "Underneath those cold, inhuman eyes is a heart of sheer granite. Actually, she escaped from the fifth floor two weeks ago but we're all afraid to tell anybody."

The aide giggled; the nurse shook her head in exasperation. The phone rang on the desk behind the counter.

"Will you get that, please, dear," said Annie to the young girl.

The aide nodded and retreated to the desk.

The nurse turned to Panov.

"Doctor Mo, how am I ever going to get anything through their heads with you around?"

"With love, dear Annie. With love. But don't lose your bicycle chains."

"You're incorrigible. Tell me, how's your patient in Five-A? I know you're worried about him."

"I'm still worried."

"I hear you stayed up all night."

"There was a three A.M. movie on television I wanted to see."

"Don't do it, Mo," said the matronly nurse.

"You're too young to end up in there."

"And maybe too old to avoid it, Annie. But thanks."

In truth it wasnt just the one in Five-A that was keeping him up. Every part of him was screaming that something was wrong. It had been happening since his young patient had escaped his pursuers in Paris. Mo didn't have the full information on what happened in Paris but he knew that Alex had been angry. Angry and unable to come visit Mo. Jason Bourne, David Webb, Del... no better not go there. Even for him those were dangerous thoughts to be having.

Then again they may must take him into protective custody. Only he, Alex, and a General that Mo had never met were left of the original group. Someone was picking them off which meant someone was a mole. Whether the mole was still alive now that was the question.

Suddenly Panov and the nurse were aware that he was being paged, the wide-eyed trainee at the desk speaking into the microphone.

"Dr. Panov, please. Telephone for—"

"I'm Dr. Panov," said the psychiatrist in a sotto voce whisper to the girl.

"We don't want anyone to know. Annie Donovan here's really my mother from Poland. Who is it?"

The trainee stared at Panov's ID card on his white coat; she blinked and replied. "A Mr. Alexander Conklin, sir."

"Oh?" Panov was startled.

Alex Conklin had been a patient on and off for five years, until they both had agreed he'd adjusted as well as he was ever going to adjust—which was not a hell of a lot.

There were so many, and so little they can do for them. Whatever Conklin wanted had to be relatively serious for him to call Bethesda and not the office. Could they have found David?

"Where can I take this, Annie?"

"Room One," said the nurse, pointing across the hall. "It's empty. I'll have the call transferred."

Panov walked toward the door, an uneasy feeling spreading through him.

"I need some very fast answers, Mo," said Conklin, his voice strained.

"I'm not very good at fast answers, Alex. Why not come in and see me this afternoon?"

"It's not me. It's someone else. Possibly."

"No games, please. I thought we'd gone beyond that."

"No games. This is a Four-Zero emergency, and I need help."

That had him standing impossible straighter.

"Four-Zero? Call in one of your staff men. I've never requested that kind of clearance."

He in fact had only ever allowed it once. For a broken soldier that they wanted to use again. One who had seen the worst of humanity but still had the smallest amount of faith in it. David... please dont let it be the younger man.

"I can't. That's how tight it is."

"Then you'd better whisper to God."

"Mo, please! I only have to confirm possibilities, the rest I can put together myself. And I don't have five seconds to waste. A man may be running around ready to blow away ghosts, anyone he thinks is a ghost. He's already killed very real, very important people and I'm not sure he knows it. Help me, help him!"

"If I can. Go ahead."

"A man is placed in a highly volatile, maximum stress situation for a long period of time, the entire period in deep cover. The cover itself is a decoy—very visible, very negative, constant pressure applied to maintain that visibility. The purpose is to draw out a target similar to the decoy by convincing the target that the decoy's a threat, forcing the target into the open.… Are you with me so far?"

"So far," said Panov.

This was David. There was no one else it could be. He wanted to curse loudly but that would only give away that he knew. What are you thinking Alex?

"You say there's been constant pressure on the decoy to maintain a negative, highly visible profile. What's been his environment?"

"As brutal as you can imagine."

"For how long a period of time?"

"Years."

"Good God," said the psychiatrist. "No breaks?"

"None at all. Twenty-four hours a day. For several months. Someone not himself."

"When will you damn fools learn? Even prisoners in the worst camps could be themselves, talk to others who were themselves—" Panov stopped, catching his own words and Conklin's meaning. "That's your point, isn't it?"

"I'm not sure," answered the intelligence officer. "It's hazy, confusing, even contradictory. What I want to ask is this. Could such a man under these circumstances begin to … believe he's the decoy, assume the characteristics, absorb the mocked dossier to the point where he believes it's him?"

"The answer to that's so obvious I'm surprised you ask it. Of course he could. Probably would. It's an unendurably prolonged performance that can't be sustained unless the belief becomes a part of his everyday reality. The actor never off the stage in a play that never ends. Day after day, night after night." The doctor stopped again, then continued carefully. "But that's not really your question, is it?"

"No," replied Conklin. "I go one step further. Beyond the decoy. I have to; it's the only thing that makes sense."

"Wait a minute," interrupted Panov sharply. He knew where this was going and what the man was going to do. He had to stop it before it went any further.

"You'd better stop there, because I'm not confirming any blind diagnosis. Not for what you're leading up to. No way, Charlie. That's giving you a license I won't be responsible for—with or without a consulation fee."

"We don't have time for that. I'm sorry, Mo but it has to be stopped now."

"ALEX!"

With that the line went dead and all he could do was stare at his phone in shock. Without meaning to he just signed one of his friend's death warrants. He had to stop this before it went any further. But who to call?

End of flashback

For years following this event Morris had felt intense guilt over what happened. At how close he had come to losing David. It had taken years for him to even speak to Alex again.

Now they had to wait for David wake up again. He would explain what was happening to the man. Hopefully this would stave off on Delta returning to the surface.

David's POV

When he became aware again he found that he was laid out on the ground. A warm blanket was draped over him and he could hear people moving about. At first he thought that All For One had finally caught up to him and Yukhiro.

Then his brain caught up with the stupidity of that thought. There was no way the villain would have taken him along. Much less cared enough to lay a blanket over him. No whoever he was with it wasn't All For One or any of his group.

David didn't know whether he should be relieved or not. There were too many possibilities on who it could be. Very few of them were friendly and ended well for the killer.

When he opened his eyes he found that he was in the warehouse. Cold grey eyes searched around him looking for enemies. A dozen or so feet away he could see Conklin talking with his soldiers. Izuku bared his teeth at the man and began to sit up.

Near the entrance to the warehouse was Echo. The Frenchman felt his gaze and raised his chin in acknowledgement. His eyes trailed to something behind David.

Slowly David pushed him so that he was sitting up. Then he turned his head to the side so that he could look at what Echo was gesturing to. David's heart stopped when he saw a familiar brown haired man watching him.

Hazel eyes that had seen him through so much. Ones that David thought he would never see again. Mo... he thought Morris Pamov had been killed. He checked several sources to confirm that he was dead. So how was this man in front of him now?

A small exhausted smile crossed Mo's face as he greeted, "Well hello David. How are you feeling?"

That caused everyone who was in the warehouse to pause. Several pairs of wary eyes looked over at them. David glared at them and it intensified when he saw Alex start towards them. He saw Echo discreetely shake his head at the agent. Shoulders slumped as Alex moved back and restarted his conversation with his agent.

"David?" The soft question drew his attention back to the psychiatrist.

Taking a deep breath to force himself to meet the doctor's gaze. The gentleness was nearly overwhelming. It had been too long since he saw anything but anger and murder in other people's eyes.

David questioned wincing at how rough his voice sounded, "How? I thought you were dead."

Hazel eyes sharpened as they looked towards Conklin.

Then he said, "Despite the reports Alex put out I was never in any danger. He simply wanted to draw you out. Intentions were something I did not know of until it was too late."

David didn't sense any deception from the man. Instead there was pure honesty in the hazel eyes. They seemed to beg the younger to believe his words. Something he granted after considering everything he knew.

The younger man rubbed tiredly at his eyes, "That explains how you are alive. That does not explain however why we are all here. Last I checked Alex wanted to murder me for something I did. He says I killed my brother but I can barely remember anything about him. Most of what I do remember is from the dammed forest."

Mo reached out a hand then hesitated. His hazel eyes seemed to ask for permission. And for a moment he pondered giving his permission. Then shook his head. Nothing against the doctor but he did not want to be touched right now. He didn't know if he could stop the violent reactions.

The last thing he wanted was to hurt Mo. He was after all one of two people that he actually cared about.

Wait... he stiffened. Where was Yukhiro?

"Let David go!"

Fuck there he was.