Chapter 1

His hand shook a little when he spoke the question into the phone. There was no going back now.

"Chloe…are you, uh, planning to go to the cemetery any time soon?"

"Yeah, tomorrow actually…did you want to come with me?"

"Yeah…yeah, I think I'm ready now." It sounded as though he was trying to reaffirm that to himself too. "Do you mind picking me up, though? Kind of feel like I need someone to hold me accountable." He let out a small laugh of shame.

"Sure, I'll head to the florist then pick you up at around seven? It should be dark by then. Also, did Michelle have a favourite flower? I'll get you a bunch."

His mind flashed back to her. The house they'd only been living in for a few months at the time of her death. Her kneeling at the front window, securing the colourful plants in place. What she lacked in culinary ability, she did compensate for in gardening, and well, everything else she did. She knew exactly how to place each flower, the exact proximity apart they needed to be so they wouldn't block each other's sunlight and die. The exact patterning of colours. White. Pink. Red. White. Pink. Red. That was the mantra she had repeated to herself. Of course with the blast of the bomb through the glass, and the fire that had followed, they would have likely been incinerated. Much the way Tony's life had.

"Peonies. She liked peonies."

"Okay. I'll see you then."

"Bye Chloe."

True to her word, her blue Prius rolled up outside Tony's apartment at seven the next evening. The sky throughout the day had been an ominous charcoal grey. While it hadn't rained yet, the weather reporter on the five o'clock news had spoken of an approaching storm with strong winds. General advice was to stay inside. The perfect night to go wandering through a graveyard.

They didn't say all that much to each other on the way there. Just small talk, and avidly avoiding the subject of the people they were on the way to visit. She asked him how Sidra was. How the dead-end of the current assignment they were working on was going. If the flowers she bought were okay. And he played along, responding in short, simple sentences, asking equally innocuous questions to keep the conversation going.

It was quiet as the engine died down. Logically of course, most sane people don't visit cemeteries at night, especially when a predictably bad storm was imminent. But then again, most sane people weren't fugitives.

"Morris and Prescott are closer to the entrance, so we'll go there first."

He nodded as she lead the way. Lightning flashed overhead, causing Chloe to jump a little. There were small street lights around the border of the small cemetery, enough for the gravestones to be vaguely legible, but Chloe had the flash on her phone out anyway. Tony shielded the delicate bouquet from a harsh gust of wind with his black overcoat. He picked off a loose petal that had settled on his lapel. Eventually, she came to a stop. The thin oval of white light was stark against the granite. It was positioned between two head-stones, Tony squinted as he made out the names there. Morris on the left, Prescott on the right. He wondered if Chloe had already reserved a plot nearby, but something told him that between being captured by the CIA, and slowly trying to reestablish herself in America, she hadn't gotten around to it yet.

Tenderly, she knelt between them, dividing the lilac azaleas among the two graves. Lightning flashed again, the inscriptions on the two headstones now permanently burned into Tony's mind. Seeing such a short span of time between Prescott's birth and death turned his stomach. It reminded him that adults hadn't been the only ones who'd suffered. Even with Michelle's pregnancy being such a strong motivator for his revenge, such a great emotional tie, Tony at least knew his baby boy was still, and would forever be, safely nestled in her womb. There was something so chilling about the individual headstone, the knowledge that Chloe had had to buy a separate, little-boy-sized coffin just for him. A small part of him was at least grateful the planning of Michelle's funeral was a burden he'd not had to deal with. Tony hadn't needed to pick out a coffin and write a eulogy, he'd only needed to plan her vengeance. It hit him that responsibility of his and Michelle's funerals had probably fallen to Chloe, or to Bill. Maybe even Kim. He mentally noted to ask about it later.

His train of thought was interrupted by the softest, sweetest words he'd ever heard falling from Chloe O'Brian's mouth. She was angled slightly towards Morris' grave. He couldn't quite make out all of it over the wind. If Tony walked a little closer, he probably would be able to. But something about that felt intrusive. So he listened to the few sentences that made it to his ears.

"Hey honey, hope you're okay. I'm sure it's nice where you are. Not pouring with rain like it is here. The weather's probably nice enough for you to play outside with Prescott every day…"

Tony realised that he had no idea what Chloe's stance on faith was. What exactly her definition of 'where you are' referred to. Had she been brought up religious and abandoned it after too many unfortunate circumstances the way he had? Or maybe religion had been something she'd chosen to turn to after said unfortunate circumstances? Regardless, even the most religious people still tended to have their own personal envisions of what heaven, paradise, whatever, looked like. Somehow it made the person you were talking to seem a little closer. Of course Tony had never done this himself though. Yes, there'd been many deaths over the years, but none so close that Tony had visited the grave and had an explicit conversation with the deceased.

"I know I always say this, but thank you for taking care of him. Thank you for being there to raise him."

He remembered how hard it was for Chloe to be away from her son when she had decided to work with Tony and Bill on taking down Dubaku. The late-night conversations and over-the-phone bedtime stories to Prescott, who he was only a few years old at the time. Tony remembered the tears falling down her face when a small cry of 'I miss you mommy' would come through the phone each and every time before she'd hang up.

She tilted herself to face the other headstone. Her voice was even gentler now.

"Hi sweetie…I, uh, I hope you're being good for your dad up there. Better not be annoying him too much."

Tony wondered how Chloe was holding it together. Most people barely kept their composure when talking to their loved ones in this way. He admired her strength, the fact that she had the ability to speak to a hunk of granite in the ground with the same generosity and warmth she would have used to speak to Prescott if he were alive.

Taking a big inhale, she continued, her voice now breaking slightly. "I'm so sorry I could never spend time with you because of work. If I'd known I'd lose you so soon, I would have found work somewhere else. I never would have left Los Angeles. I always say this, I know. But I mean it each and every time."

He wondered how guilty she must be feeling. Not as guilty as him of course. No, the sins on Tony's conscience would forever surmount anybody else's. But he knew that Chloe would always punish herself for spending so much time away from Prescott. Tony wondered if Bill hadn't enlisted her help, then maybe their family would still be whole.

"I love you so much, I think about you and your dad every single day. And I will for the rest of my life." Slowly, she stood, patters of rain beginning to drop. "So, uh, I'll see you both later."

Tony was still taken aback by her softness. He realised just how much she'd let her guard down in this moment. Never in his years working with her had he ever seen the ever-annoyed and forthright Chloe O'Brian so emotional. She hadn't broken down. She'd barely cried. But the sheer love radiating from her was evident.

Thunder rumbled overhead as they trudged towards Michelle's grave. The mud was causing their shoes to sink slightly, making their sombre movements that much more sluggish. Tony snickered. "We chose the perfect night, didn't we?"

She laughed through her nose. "Well actually, it was supposed to be all sunshine and rainbows tomorrow, didn't think that was the mood we were going for."

It was true. Somehow the weather manifesting the emotions within them made them feel just a little less alone.

Although Chloe had stopped in front of what he presumed was Michelle's grave, she had directed her flashlight to the gravestone directly adjacent to it.

"Guess another guy moved in." The crisp, off-white marble headstone belonging to one Jane Forester was clearly much newer than its neighbours. It took Tony a minute to realise what Chloe was referring to. Then it hit him like a slap to the face. This was where he was supposed to be buried. But obviously with the FBI exhuming his grave, and his subsequent arrest in Washington, they'd assumed he wasn't going to be dying in Los Angeles anymore. A part of him wanted to fix it, go reserve a new plot so he could still be close to her as they'd wanted it to be. Another part of him revelled in the loss. Told him that he didn't deserve to be near her after the things he'd done.

She gave him space to stand in front, stabilising the light from her phone so he could see her headstone. Chloe watched his hand tremble, as he placed the elegantly white flowers on the ground. The rain was falling in a gentle stream. making distinct, little circles on the feather-grey slab.

"So, uh, I don't exactly know how this works, but I'm assuming you're up there, cradling our little boy in your arms. I'm sure he's beautiful." He sniffled. "Sometime, I try to imagine what he might have looked like, but I never feel like I'm doing him justice. You're probably standing on the edge of some cloud, wearing a white dress, and I know, I know, you're still just as gorgeous as the day they took you both away from me."

Her heart broke a little as he spoke, his voice sounding so shattered, expressing the way she knew he'd felt and continued to feel all these years. Come to think of it, he probably never even had the chance to grieve. Not properly anyway. Emerson had essentially forced him to exert his pain as rage, and by the time she and Bill had found him, they'd been so committed to the mission, the pain had still been likely shoved on the back-burner.

"I don't know if you know the stuff I've done, part of me really hopes you haven't. But I'm sorry. Baby…I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry!" Tony fell to his knees, the mud squelching a little as it made contact with his pants. Thunder grumbled again, louder this time. Rain poured down, the way tears poured from Tony's eyes. Even in the dark, Chloe could tell he was practically convulsing. His fingers gripped the soggy grass as though it would stabilise the anguish coursing through him. Shuddering breaths escaped his mouth. His head was facing the ground, as though he were too ashamed to look at her headstone.

Chloe knelt behind him, pressing her lips into a thin line. He didn't draw back when her gloved hand found itself between his shoulder blades, making small, comforting circles. She was close enough to smell the dampness of his wool coat. Her straight hair felt heavy, she was certain the rain had completely drenched it by now. Chloe reminded herself to wring it out before she got in the car.

Tony continued to cry out over the thunder as if speaking too quietly would prevent Michelle from hearing him. "I-I shouldn't have let those bastards manipulate me. I sold out. I threw away everything you and I ever worked for. Especially you. And for that, for all the things I've done, I know it means I'll never see you again. That's how it works, right?" He sniffed. "Good people go to Heaven, bad people don't?" Tony inhaled sharply. "God, forgive me, please."

She looked at his face, wet with the rain, wet with tears. His body still trembled beneath her hand. Trembled with cold, trembled with emotion. His curled hair stuck to his face, but he made no effort to push it away. Chloe knew that Tony, as much as he hadn't admitted it at the time, always felt at least some remorse for his actions. Much the way Jack did. No matter how much they isolated themselves, no matter how much of a scary face they put on, bothof them were deeply riddled with regret. But it wasn't until now that she understood just how much he'd been flagellating himself. And how much had been kept inside, waiting to gush out of him. How lonely he must have felt, having no one to talk to. David had only served to manipulate him, and as for her and Bill, they hadn't exactly had the time to sit around and talk about their feelings.

"You didn't deserve any of what happened to you. And while you might not have had the best reaction, I don't think anybody can blame you either. When I used to update Jack," she sounded so reverent when his name left her lips, "he always seemed so happy to know you were doing okay. I think that's all he ever wanted for you two. He wanted to see you both make it out of CTU alive and raise your family safely. That's what you deserved. A long, happy life far away from all of this." Chloe spoke softly, her undertone a little pained, as he continued to weep. She wasn't surprised when a few teardrops ran down her own cheek. It was almost as if she were telling herself a little too. Lord knows Chloe still needed the reassurance that she didn't deserve to suffer the way she had. She had blamed herself for years for Morris and Prescott's accident, only to find out from Adrian's dying breath that there was no reason to have done so.

The mention of Jack triggered more pain for Tony, a loud sob escaping his throat. He was no longer just grieving for Michelle and their son. The memories of every person he'd ever had to say goodbye to flooded through Tony like a tsunami. Family members. Teri. George. Paula. Ryan. Morris and Prescott. Larry. Bill. Even Jack. Albeit still alive, Tony allowed himself to grieve for Jack, because Jack was maybe one of the only people who'd been through so much of the same pain, the same heartache as he had, yet Jack was the one who was furthest away right now. At some point, Tony stopped crying. He suspected it was because no liquid in his body remained. Chloe felt his body stop shaking, the thump of his heart slowly easing itself back to a normal rate. When she felt the time was right, when she felt as though he were stable and present again, Chloe wordlessly pulled him to his feet.

They walked back to the car in silence, Chloe leading the way, Tony trailing behind her, his footsteps heavy with burden. She listened to the patter of water on the concrete as the excess moisture fell from her hair. Grumbling, since she only had her car cleaned a few days ago, Chloe shuffled a little to scrape some of the excess dirt from her sneakers. Tony, feeling slightly abashed at the mud coating his jeans and shoes, followed suit. It was still pounding down with rain as they shut the doors. She was a little startled when he spoke.

"The day they revived me, the day I woke up at Emerson's warehouse… I should have just put a bullet through my skull. Nearly did, actually. I-I just wanted everyone to leave me alone, I just wanted to die in peace. But you know why I didn't?"

Chloe tilted her head.

"Because growing up Catholic, they told me suicide was a sin, that I wouldn't go to Heaven if I did." He let out a slight chortle, almost insulting himself for trying to sound so morally conscious. "But if I could go back in time…that's all I'd do. My biggest regret. The one thing I wish I could change…was that." His voice turned to a mumble. "Not like I'll be going to Heaven now."

"You still did so much work undercover with them, without that we wouldn't have gotten to Dubaku. Staying alive was worth it."

He shook his head. "I'm sure you and Bill would have found another way."

Knowing that any reply she could formulate would simply sound patronising, Chloe simply started up the car, and took off.

She rolled up outside his apartment after another period of silence. There wasn't much to say, really. A click indicated she'd unlocked the doors.

Tony was still looking down at his lap. "Thank you. I don't think I could have done it alone."

Smiling a little, Chloe nodded. "Of course."

He returned her smile, just ever-so, as he stepped out of the car, the rain letting up as he opened the door to his apartment.