Author: Sirius
Disclaimer: See Part I.
Author's Note: As always, feedback is welcome. In addition, keep in mind that this is AU, and that anything involving Charlie's family history in this story is something that I have made up… I've also added a tiny bit about Rosslyn, since I haven't seen those episodes in a while.
Chapter Summary: What was in that envelope? Oh, and this chapter – in my estimation – contains somewhat graphic content and definitely carries a Kleenex warning. It picks up right where Part XII left off. The formatting looks like it's being a little weird again. The flashback sequence will be in bold print.
Charlie had gathered her into his arms, but she still saw the pictures in her mind. She'd known what they'd done to Deena, but that… tops of shaved heads looking down on a bound girl, bruises on her stomach, bruises on her face. Hands holding her down as the men… Other images showing every time she'd been struck, every time she'd been kicked. Enraged boys displaying as battle wounds the broken bones she'd dealt to them, bragging…she'd lost… she'd lost. The final set of images… Deena's eyes, wide with terror, pain, hopelessness, as the knife carved into her arm, her stomach.
"She was still alive… God, Zoey, she was still alive when they did that."
Gina and Xander had rushed into the room at Zoey's scream, guns drawn, and had heard Charlie's comment. Of the two agents, Gina saw the pictures first. Before her orders kicked in, before she even thought to notify Ron, the first words going through her head were I want those bastards taken out back and shot.
In Leo's office, Ron's head snapped up and he listened attentively to whatever was coming in over his earpiece. "Confirm that, Toscano!" Ron's sharply barked command silenced everyone in the meeting. Abbey put a hand on her husband's shoulder, sending a silent message. Wait. Let Ron do his job. Don't rush when everything may be all right… just wait.
They watched as seconds ticked by… then all started to breathe again as Ron's stance relaxed – ever so slightly. He was still alert, but it was a lesser state of it, one that would have passed by anyone who hadn't worked with this man for the past few years. DiMenna didn't notice, but he relaxed – more or less – when the general tension level in the room eased up.
Near the door, Ron still listened intently, interjecting the occasional half-question, apparently answered before he could finish. Toby observed with open admiration the level of teamwork that existed between these agents – even though he was only seeing a small part of it. Protect and serve, loyalty, dedication, and selfless devotion to duty. There is no glory in this job, an often thankless task, but in this calling is evidence of deep and abiding honor in and to all who choose to follow it. It's a life in the shadows. Can anyone else truly know what these people give up? Do we even think to show our gratitude when we can? Toby remembered Simon Donovan, and the two agents killed at Rosslyn.
Toby's attention was caught by Ron's next comment. "Confirm – he was supposed to receive that prior to police contact? Is that best theory or…? I see. It's not likely that there will be much – if anything – left… Yes, follow SOP."
What the hell is going on? Toby thought. The first agent mentioned was Gina, so it has to have something to do with Zoey… or Charlie, since Zoey has been effectively glued to his side since he woke up – all things considered, that could only be a good thing. So, presuming that the "he" is Charlie, what was he supposed to receive…?
Ron's voice dropped back to a low murmur that made his words inaudible to the rest of the room, and by this time everyone knew that there was nothing life-threatening going on… but that didn't stop Toby from pacing.
It didn't stop Josh from running his hands through his hair.
It didn't stop Leo from cursing under his breath, and it didn't stop Margaret from worrying about him.
It didn't stop Sam from resting his head in his hands… or Ainsley from resting a comforting hand on his back.
And the only thing that stopped Jed Bartlet from leaving that room to check on his daughter was his wife's calming hand on his shoulder.
She'd been born after their dad had left… not that he'd been there much to begin with. He'd been almost eight then, and started spending his mornings greeting this tiny, squirming, screaming thing that grabbed onto his heart and didn't let go. Smiling eyes and an angel's laughter. When she was three, she did her best to give him a makeover with her birthday cake. He got her a puppy. Keep an eye on her, Edison, you old mutt. You always did.
He was there when she was in her first school play – Mom was there opening night, but had to work the rest.
He looked at the things his mother missed, held his sister when she cried because Mama had to work… and he was angry. Worthless jackass. It's your own fault you've missed all this and I hope you realize it one day. She shouldn't have to cry, and their mother shouldn't have to work so hard… and he was angry, and couldn't yell at the man who'd betrayed them all.
When he shouted at her, he realized that he needed to do something, and went to his mother's boss. "I need help," he said. "I don't like who I am anymore; I don't know who I am anymore." And the Captain taught him, as much as he could – how to find that calm place deep inside, how to focus… and how to defend himself. These lessons would serve him well… until Rosslyn.
He grew, excelled, kissed his mother goodbye and went off to college, even though he purposely stayed close… just in case they needed him for anything. And then one night, Tony came to his dorm… and he went and held his crying sister. One world ended and another began. He'd been there for everything before… for her, but he'd always had his mother there, in the background, easy to reach… just in case. Now, he was all there was for her.
He found a job, a family, a love that he had never imagined… a father… all because he had to be there for her. And now, she was gone… gone… in blood, and violence, and hatred…
And the only thing calming Charlie's shattered soul was the smell of sun-kissed raspberries.
TBC…
