Bit of a mess this one, innit?


Cal was doing his best to listen to what Reynolds was saying, something about Jackson Peters being at the local police station spilling the guts about the people who had come to him before them, but his attention was nowhere to be found. Back at the post office, everything had happened so quickly and suddenly that he was still struggling to process, more focused on the fact that now he had to add the involvement of armed people to the list of ominous things Gillian was keeping from him.

He didn't think about the fact that any one of those bullets could have hit him, or Torres or Reynolds, or God forbid a random bystander. For a moment he had even forgotten about Peters and his lies, and the truth he was still holding and could have helped them help Gillian: all he could think about, was that all of a sudden he was glad she had taken his gun from the safe.

"Lightman."

Reynolds' voice only just shook him out of his thoughts, and for one Cal was grateful. He had no reasons to stop worrying or panic about the unfolding events, but he also knew that he couldn't let that line of reasoning dictate his actions. Those thoughts were useful to keep him on the edge just enough to function and don't just take the events passively, but he couldn't let them derail and go off on their own.

"What"?

"I spoke with the local PD, they got Peters to talk but he wasn't much help."

"I'll talk to him."

Reynolds nodded, he had expected as much.

"I told them you would. To give you a heads-up, he told them that two men approached him this morning when he arrived for his shift. He said they got to him as he came out of his car, that they had a gun and were wearing ski masks." Of course they were! Cal said to himself. "They wanted information on the package, and to call them if anybody else came asking about it."

"We spent like 20 minutes with him before they attacked," Cal pointed out, clearly confused by the timeline. "How did they get there so quickly?"

"Peters heard the Postmaster talking about the request we put out this morning to the postal services. He overheard the conversation and thought someone might be coming."

"Looks can be deceiving." He muttered then, thinking he hadn't given any credit of sorts to the young man who had struggled to light up his cigarettes because of how much his hands were shaking. "Family got threatened?"

"He's not married but his father is in a retirement home. So listen Lightman, the police are holding him for us but he's not charged with anything so we should make a move if you want to talk to him." He sighed then glanced at something behind Cal. "Is she ok?"

Cal looked at him then followed his eyes, watching as a nurse handed Torres some papers which she took with her right hand, the left one safely trapped in a freshly made cast around her arm.

"Yes, just about." Cal sighed, mentally adding yet another thing to the list of things he was worrying about. "She messed up her arm when she fell, it's just an odd fracture but nothing serious."

"She got lucky there," Reynolds sighed then shook his head. "We all did."

Everybody but Gillian, Cal couldn't help but think, biting at his bottom lip to hold back the thought. Reynolds noticed the shift in the scientist's demeanour and averted his eyes for a moment. It hadn't been a full day yet and Lightman was already showing occasional cracks, moments in which the complex gears inside his brain seemed to lock shut and all connections failed. He could understand, close to seeing his own daughter in danger that was possibly the most nightmarish scenario Lightman could face, but the agent really wished he would snap out of it.

Reynolds was about to say something, perhaps even making a move to go get Torres so that they could move over to the police station, when Cal's phone rang. The man rolled his eyes at the sound as if it was the most annoying thing that had happened to him that day, but the overreaction was only due to the fact that he had been engaged in a silent conversation with himself about who the mysterious shooters might have been. So, when he finally reached for his phone and accepted the call he was still absorbed by his own theory, not even checking the caller ID and possibly ready to dismiss whoever dared to bother him when he was finally feeling like himself again.

"Ligthman." He blurted on the phone, stepping away to a more quiet corner to eliminate the background noises of the hospital. "Hello?"

A few silent seconds went by and Cal came really close to insult the caller and hang up, but then a big flashing red light went up in his brain to mark he'd better pay attention.

"Gillian?" He asked, hiding away even more to make sure there was no disturbance of sorts in case he was right. "Gillian, is that you"?

Even before she answered, with Cal holding his breath, he could hear her take a deep breath and prepare herself for a conversation she obviously wasn't looking forward to having.

"Is Ria ok?"

Cal's hand froze around the phone, his breath suddenly shortening and his head spinning. It wasn't the first time he had felt that way since the night before but he had not expected to get to that place all over again. He hadn't thought things could get much worse, at least not in such a short time, and then there he was. Gillian had been at the post office when the attack happened, and it was reasonable to think she might have been there before. For a brief moment, the ridiculous thought that she might have been the one doing the shooting crossed his mind, and he still had to remind himself that according to Peters it had been two men paying him a visit.

"You must be kidding-"

"Please, Cal." Her soft plea in response to his hissed words pissed him off beyond comprehension, but he couldn't push himself further after she spoke. "I just need to know that she's ok."

Cal had to literally count to ten and calm down before answering, meanwhile keeping an eye on the people around him to make sure nobody was within ear range.

"She's fine, just a broken arm when she fell." Breath in, breath out; repeat. "Gillian, where are you? What the hell is going on, love?"

"Cal-"

"Don't give me the run around, Foster." As the conversation went on, it was getting more difficult for him to control his emotion. "You lied to me, what have you been hiding from me? And what the hell do you need a gun for?"

"I'm sorry Cal, I-" Don't say it, he begged in his own mind, clenching his jaw. Please Gill don't say it! "I can't tell you, I'm sorry."

"What were you doing at the post office?" He asked, deaf to her request. "What was in that damn package that people are willing to kill for it?"

"Cal, please…you have to let this one go." Her voice was steady, too steady for Cal to like it really. "You have to trust me."

"This has nothing to do with trust, Foster. You're in trouble, big ugly trouble and you can't just-"

"This is the best way Cal. This is my mess." She sighed but when she spoke again her voice didn't falter. "It has nothing to do with you, I have to deal with it."

"I can help. We-"

"The FBI can't do anything about this, and you shouldn't get involved." Yet another confirmation that she had been at the post office, where she had no doubt spotted Reynolds with him and Torres. "It's too dangerous."

"And what about you, Gill? If it's dangerous for us, what about you?"

"I know what I am dealing with, Cal. And I am the only one who can take care of it."

"Gill, you can't just ask me to stay out of it. If you're in trouble… You have to let me help you!"

Reynolds and Torres were now glancing at him from a distance, too far maybe to hear what he was saying but certainly close enough to get a good idea of who he was talking to judging by his erratic behaviour.

"There's nothing you can do about it, Cal." Foster's voice left little room for interpretation or negotiation. "You have to stay out of it, I don't want anybody to get hurt. Torres was lucky, and I can't let anything happen to you. What about Emily-"

"Don't!" Cal growled, not because he didn't want her to mention his daughter but because he knew all too well he wasn't going to be able to counter with the reasoning if she had. "Gill, I- I can't just let you do this alone, whatever it is."

"You can, Cal." Her voice suddenly softened. "It's against your nature and everything you believe in and you're not gonna like it, but you can. You'll have to."

"Gill-"

"Whatever happens, I need to know that you are safe."

Cal closed his eyes, bracing himself at the impact of her words. She made it really hard, despite everything, to be mad at her. Concern trumped everything anyway, but the way her voice had softened in the last couple of sentences, particularly on Emily's name and when talking about him, did get through to him. It might have felt nice, on the surface, but it was wrong, all very wrong. She couldn't really be doing that, getting herself in unknown troubles and then telling him to be a good boy and stay put. Did she really expect him to sit on the bench and watch things unfold?

"Are you trying to protect me?"

The words escaped him with no warning, even more so in that seemingly soft tone of voice that seemed to have melted away the tension. Could he, maybe, stay put and give her some credit?

"Something like that." Gillian whispered on the phone, the faint intonation of a smile filtering through her voice.

"Gillian-"

"Everything will be fine Cal, I just need some time." She took a deep breath, giving both of them the chance to gather strenght before dropping the bomb. "But I need you to step back, if you don't you might expose me more than what I already am, as well as yourself. I know what I am dealing with and I will take care of it, I have to. This one is on me."

"How long?"

He wasn't surprised that she didn't respond, but he had to try. He didn't even care if Foster was going to lie to him - again - he just needed her to say something he could hopelessly cling on for at least a few hours.

But as he had already suspected, that wasn't his lucky day.

"I have to go, Cal." Gillian said then, her voice for the first time giving audible signs of weakness. "Bye."

Cal spared himself the humiliation of trying to stop her and endlessly calling out her name even after the phone went mute, and instead just let her go. Not because he wanted, nor because he agreed to her request, but simply because there wasn't much else he could do.


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Chapter 6: Breaking through