A/N: Thank you guest for your review!
"O" is for Offering
"You have something on your mind, David?" Granger demanded.
David was startled by Colby's sudden ferocity. His own anger, fed by all the conflicting emotions he'd been inundated with since the Janus List exposed Colby as a traitor, surged to meet it. "Seems to me you've plenty of apologizing to go around."
"For doing my job?"
"For not confiding in me!" David wanted to drive Granger face-first into the desk. He wondered if it'd feel better or worse than when he did it to that suspect the day before Granger and Carter escaped, hours before finding…. David cut off that thought, revisited slamming Colby into something solid. He felt sick for even thinking it.
"I was undercover, David. Spying. What part of that don't you get?"
"You've been lying to us for two years! You were pretending to be my partner. My friend." David looked away, furious he even cared. Had ever cared. "I don't even know who you are."
"Yes, you do, man," Colby protested, offering his most sincere, hopeful mien. "I'm the same as I ever was. I just had extra assignments you didn't know about."
David blew out an explosive breath. "Whatever," he grunted.
"Think about it for a minute, David," Colby growled. "I was still training at Quantico. I wasn't even a rookie yet when Dwayne approached me. Kirkland figured I was his best bet at finding the mole, but he wasn't stupid. He knew I wasn't a spy. He didn't give me some elaborate cover to try to remember while I was trying to root out a mole, gather intel, and trying to learn a new job. He said be myself, just don't talk about my work with him."
The very plausibility of the argument infuriated David even more. He wasn't to blame for how things stood between them.
"If I had told you, David, you would've started treating me different. You would've gone to Don, or he would've come to you when he noticed the difference," Colby said, offering detailed answers for questions that'd been torturing David for weeks. "You do things by the book. But this wouldn't've been in any book. You would've gone to the ADIC if Don didn't. He would've contacted DC, tried to verify my story, Mike's. Lancer would've heard, or someone in his network. I'd've had a bigger target on my back."
He made a negating gesture, as if he knew David didn't care about that, as if he thought David would've deliberately done that to him, as if it didn't matter.
"Best case scenario, Lancer would've come after me and tortured me to find out what I knew—or because I tried to deceive him—and eventually killed me." Colby said it as if it wasn't important, as if Sinclair offering him up to Lancer wouldn't've been a betrayal. David found it disturbing.
"But worse case, Lancer comes after my team, tries to determine what I told you all. At worst … he goes after Charlie or Amita, even Alan. How could I protect them then, David?"
It was another rational argument. David drew the anger around him like an old, comfortable coat. To do otherwise admitted David was in the wrong. To deny his fury left him susceptible to the sharp grief and pain (and guilt) he'd felt watching Don interrogate Colby, for so easily believing Colby had betrayed the country he loved, for so adamantly insisting Colby was a traitor, for nearly leaving him on that freighter for Lancer to do with as he pleased.
"Either way, Lancer's spy network is still intact, only they'd be more cautious and on the lookout for counterintelligence agents, and the risk to this country and her operatives would've been unmitigated.
"So, tell me, David … what would you have had me do? What would you have done in my position?"
David's pride, provoked by Colby's logic, and his justified anger—if slightly misplaced, he allowed in the deepest, darkest corner of his mind—spit out before he could censor his mouth, "Not take what I told you to your boss."
Colby looked genuinely baffled. "Why would I do that?"
It took everything in David's power not to slug him. "Because you're a spy." He hurled it as if it were the vilest thing he could say to a person.
"Oh, come on, man," Colby snapped, exasperated. "I knew by the end of our first case together that no one on the team was a spy. I wasn't going to waste my time—or Kirkland's—reporting on a bunch of people I knew were innocent."
"Yeah, sure … being a rookie and all."
"Don't be stupid, David. You've been undercover before," Colby said, though his tone lacked the heat of his words. "Spies—and undercover agents—have to work well without supervision. We have to have good instincts."
He faltered a bit, and David refused to examine just why that was and why it bothered him so much.
Colby rubbed his face, visibly frustrated. "I wasn't placed here just to spy on you guys," he said, offering a debriefing with minimal prompting. It made David wonder. "Or even the whole floor. I had to spy on—gather information on—every single person in this building. Not just the FBI, but the other federal offices too. Dwayne had been here long enough Mike needed me to make sure he hadn't allied with anybody else who could compromise national security. I already knew you weren't part of the network."
"And Kirkland trusted you just like that?" David scoffed.
"Yeah, David," Colby said ironically, "just like you used to."
"You give yourself too much credit, Granger."
"I didn't mean … that's not …" Colby floundered, looking down, then tentatively back up, though not meeting anyone's eyes. "I'm sorry."
David narrowed his eyes. What the—
"David, everything you told me stayed between us, man," Colby said earnestly. "I never pretended about our friendship or lied about myself. Only omitted some things."
"Which is still lying."
Colby worked his mouth a moment, a lost, hopeful look on his face. "I'm sorry."
David threw that peace offering back at him with a disgusted snort. "Yeah … you are."
He pretended not to notice how Colby's posture sagged dejectedly. He also ignored Don's glare, though it was harder not to let Megan's obvious disgruntlement affect him.
"Hey, Colby, what was Kirkland doing here?" Megan said suddenly, as if she'd been following a different conversation altogether. "DC said he'd been here for six weeks; you'd been in prison for five."
Colby changed gears seamlessly, leaping at Megan's offering.
"I contacted him when Don kicked me off the Carter case. Told him I thought Dwayne was going to get arrested, give him time to put feelers out."
Granger looked toward Don. "Mike was pissed I didn't tank the investigation."
Eppes glanced away, something suspiciously like guilt creeping across his expression. Sinclair didn't like it.
"I was supposed to tank it, prove my allegiance to Dwayne, get an invite to meet his handler." He blew out a breath, eyes flicking down before finding empty space again.
"What did he do?" Megan sounded as if she couldn't decide to be appalled or outraged on Granger's behalf.
David told himself he wasn't interested in the answer.
"Hold on a minute," Don said, gesturing at Megan. "What about the Carter case? Was that Kirkland's idea," he spat, "to send you out there by yourself?"
"Yeah." Colby licked his lips, pausing briefly before offering the rest of the story. "He, uh, said since it was my fault Dwayne was going to run, I'd have to stop him. I'd have to prove myself to you too. We'd figure out later how to use Dwayne's containment. He told me to get the recording equipment. Told me he'd call in an anonymous tip to get you out there."
"That bastard," Don snarled.
And then some, David thought, rubbing the back of his head, irritated he cared.
"Neither of us thought he'd kill me," Granger offered, as if that made everything alright.
"But it crossed your mind he'd shoot you." It wasn't a question, and Megan was livid.
"Mike timed the call." Colby stretched his shoulders back, lips quirked. "Tried to make sure even if Dwayne did shoot me, you'd get me medical help in time."
"Unless he shot you in the heart or head. Or nicked an artery." Megan's voice rose with each word, eyes promising Kirkland was oh so lucky he was already dead.
"He didn't," Granger said with his head down. "It all worked out."
"If that's what you want to call it," David muttered under his breath.
Don snorted.
"Afterwards, Mike came out here. Told me I'd have to go to prison to get close to Dwayne since I let him go." He shrugged.
Bastard.
"You let your cover get blown," Don said, in disbelief, in awe. "Man, Colby."
David couldn't deny it was a ballsy move.
"Mike came back when everything was in place, told me it was time—unless I wanted to back out. He stayed in LA while I was in prison. Wanted to be close to coordinate information … make sure he could get to me if things went too far south, relay need-to-know intel double time."
"Ashby," Don said. After a pause, "You knew. When I sent you to get Charlie, you knew what Ashby had."
"Yeah," Colby admitted, then as he'd been doing all night, offering more than anyone asked of him, "I didn't know he was paranoid. Or had been poisoned. I never got the chance to ask Mike about it. I thought he'd get with Charlie, give him whatever he needed to, and then…."
"You were waiting to be arrested." Don turned away briefly, rubbing his mouth.
Liz smiled sadly at him, but contributed nothing, only listening and watching; she hadn't been there, David remembered, for any of it. Not the bridge. Not even the oceanside safehouse. Not the hunt. Or the freighter. Or after—
David nearly sobbed in relief when Megan said, "So, what were you thinking, going up on that bridge?"
Colby rubbed his hands vigorously through his hair. "What I told you I was. I didn't know he was willing to blow himself up … I was trying to keep that from happening." He sighed. "I just wanted to get it over with," he added quietly.
"And Naomi Vaughn?"
"I was only trying to move her."
No one said anything and Colby sighed again, leaning against his desk, and offering everything up to this team. "I was supposed to kill her," he admitted. "Dwayne was unsurprisingly pissed at me and when he had to send a team in, I figured she'd be safer with me. I could save her if I wasn't a target too. Get us both out of there, get them away from you." He glanced up. "I wasn't going to hurt her. I needed to go to prison, she didn't need to die."
"In the interrogation," Don said, "you went from denying everything to confessing like that." He snapped his fingers. "What was that?"
Colby looked down, back up to that point where he didn't have to meet anyone's eyes. "I … uh, I blew my assignment. Again. I wasn't supposed to get close to you guys, wasn't supposed to think of you as my team. The interrogation was hard … I knew I disappointed you, hurt you … betrayed you. I … uh … I didn't want to see it in your face." He bent his head, offering further avowal. "Originally Mike was going to intercept the Janus List from Ashby … but then he got word of Dwayne's deal. The only way to stop him from leaving the country was to confess what I had done, shed light on what Dwayne was doing. So we just moved up the timeline. I wasn't really prepared for how much the interrogation would hurt; I hadn't had time to wrap my head around it yet. But Mike and I had talked about it, and I knew what I had to do."
"Oh man." Don sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widened, lips parted. "Shit," he whispered. He turned away momentarily, jamming both hands through his hair.
David didn't like the guilt he saw in Eppes, didn't want to see it there. They had nothing to be guilty for—that was all on Granger.
Don didn't agree.
"Dammit, Colby." His voice was harsh, yet tired, frustrated. "That goddamn interrogation. You wouldn't even look at us." His voice was getting louder, angrier. "You never looked at me, actively avoided it … until you told me what I expected to hear."
Oh. Oh.
Colby licked his lips, glanced down, pulling back, that guarded expression firmly in place.
No one said anything for a couple of minutes, dealing with this reveal, then,
"So … your escape. Kirkland was still here."
Don circled back to the beginning, no doubt cataloging everything Granger said, filling a dossier in his head until he was satisfied with the answers. Answers Granger kept offering. David vaguely wondered how much trouble Colby would be in if word got out what he was doing.
"Yeah. He came to see me; told me he got intel Dwayne was planning his escape the next day during our transport. My last chance to back out." His eyes flicked briefly to David. "He gave me a key to swallow. Told me whose cellphone to take, which speed dial to use. That was the last time I saw him."
He worried at his lip, looking down at the floor. Don abruptly excused himself but returned momentarily with an unopened bottle of water he shoved into Granger's hand. Colby offered the teeniest of smiles when Don nudged his head at the water, backing off only after Colby untwisted the cap and took a drink. Something else to wonder about, David decided.
"I texted him from the garage while Dwayne called his handler. I never heard from him."
"Yeah, Lancer must've made him sometime after he left the prison," Don murmured.
"Dwayne and I separated on the subway platform; cops were looking for two white men, not one. We stayed apart on the train, that's when I called Charlie. I had an idea why Mike didn't get back to me, but I still needed time to meet Dwayne's handler. Mike had already posited his handler was our mole. I had to get to him, expose him … end it." He fiddled with the bottle, took another drink. "So it wasn't all for nothing."
David abruptly remembered Colby had told him during the Kaufman case he wanted his story told. He blinked something out of his eyes. Colby hadn't even known if they were coming after him, if they'd get to him in time, if they returned his trust—yet he still completed that damn op. If it had been left to David, they never would've gotten there in time, probably never even found his body, only learn his story from Kirkland's files when it was too late to matter. David didn't think he would've been able to live with himself then.
Didn't mean he was ready to forgive his former partner now, though. He was still a stranger. Is he? a tiny voice wondered, but then Colby was offering more of his story—more of himself—pulling David from that uncomfortable place in his head.
"He, uh, Lancer … uh, he was waiting for me. He asked for the phone. You know the rest."
Like hell they did. David bet a whole lot happened between giving up the phone and finding Colby bound to that chair with a needle of potassium chloride sticking out of his chest. He didn't call him on it, though. Told himself it had nothing to do with friendship or sympathy or guilt.
Goddammit, he didn't have anything to feel guilty for. He wasn't the one living a lie for two years.
"Did Carter do anything to you in prison?" Liz asked bluntly. "Since he was so pissed at you."
David really wished she would've stayed out of the conversation, continued offering nothing to it. He didn't want to think about Granger in prison … an FBI special agent in prison … in general population … with an old, pissed off friend he had helped nail—he jumped off that train, at that moment cheerfully contemplating cutting Liz's tongue out with an old, rusty butter knife.
"Nah," Colby said easily, glancing sidelong at her. "I never saw him except at transports. That last one, he told me he'd been in solitary for the past three weeks."
"So you were alone." Megan zeroed in on what she saw as the most important part of that offering. David couldn't identify everything in her voice.
Likewise, he couldn't read Colby's expression, although the fact that he blanked it spoke perhaps more eloquently than he'd intended. Do not go there, David warned himself.
Colby shrugged uncomfortably, offering a shy smile as they all continued staring at him. David snorted, made himself look away. "I spent most of the op alone," he quietly confessed. "It's okay."
"What do you mean alone?" Don demanded.
Colby blew out a breath, picked at the label on the bottle with a thumb.
"I barely knew anyone in the op, just my handler. That way I couldn't give it away if I was caught. Same with them. So I was alone." Granger glanced down, scuffed absently at the tiled floor. "All the secrets, the isolation … what I told you on the train?"
Don nodded, looking even more concerned, and Sinclair wondered what the hell he was missing. The girls didn't seem to mind, but it bothered David. A lot.
"I wasn't entirely convinced I wasn't being set up. You really were the only one I could trust."
He raised the bottle to his lips, brought it down without drinking; David thought it had to do with the eyes on him and not a lack of thirst.
"I actually need to thank you all, especially you three." Colby's voice was raspier than normal, and his eyes were suspiciously bright as he indicated Don, Megan, and David. "You didn't know it, but it meant the world to me that I could relax around you; just be a normal agent. That I could let my guard down. That you were my friends as well as my colleagues." He ducked his head. "You have no idea how much that helped me. Thank you."
"Aw … Colby." Megan's own voice threatened to give out.
And David snapped.
"Nice of you to take advantage of us like that," David said caustically. "We wouldn't've been so open, seeing as how you were a stranger and all."
David didn't register what the others were angrily yelling at him, for Granger was suddenly in his personal space. "You know what, David? You want me to leave, I will. But you're going to have to say the words. I won't do it for you."
David felt a thrill of something (not guilt, not remorse or loss or even grief, goddammit … it wasn't those) at Colby's words, even as he shoved him in the chest to back him off. Granger moved maybe half a step.
"What do you want from me, David? I've apologized. Do you want me to grovel? Fine, I'll do it. Do you want to take a swing at me? Go for it, I won't stop you. Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it. Even leave." Colby's anger was tinged with distress, but he didn't back down.
David's fury rose and matched it, overtopped it, overtopped all reason and tact and common sense. He deliberately looked Granger up and down, allowed his face to twist into contempt, raised a hand but only to put it on the partition next to him.
"You're not worth it," he declared.
He didn't expect Granger's reaction: his bearing collapsed inward, and he gave a faint, sharp intake of breath. His face drained of color, and he hung his head. Shame and remorse contorted his countenance. Colby stumbled back a step.
"I know, man," Colby said softly. "I'm sorry."
He accepted it, just like that. That he was worthless, that he should be mortally ashamed, even after his rather large role in taking down the Chinese spy ring. All because David told him so.
And he knew then that he could do what Lancer couldn't: he could completely break Colby, utterly destroy him. It was a heady rush to know that Colby trusted him enough to give David that kind of power over him. To tear him down, to lay waste to everything that was Colby Granger.
It called everything David had felt and done and said since Don told him Colby was on the Janus List into question. It challenged everything, mocked everything, turned everything inside down and upside out.
David couldn't deal with it. Not now. It was too much. The emotions were too much. And so….
And so he grabbed his keys and jacket, turned his back on his once-partner, and walked away without a word. When he entered the elevator, Colby still stood where David had left him, head down, forlorn and defeated, his offering dismissed and rejected. It didn't make David feel any better.