Moran was taking the stairs down four at a time. His knife was in his hand, and he was in a wonderfully numb state of minimal thought, just instinct and adrenaline.

It had been one of his old Hits people that had told him, had seen the man come in and meet Ines. It had only taken seconds for him to check the security tapes to confirm. Now he was vaulting down the stairs as fast as he could without risking injury. This was it. No further.

No one in the room was prepared for Moran's entrance, but the only one who didn't make surprised shout at the door exploding open was Lorna, who was too busy trying to keep Ralph off of her with nothing but her feet to take any notice of the rest of the world. She was on the floor, bare from the waist up, with a split lip and with her arms pinned to the floor by the man above her, and her feet planted in his stomach, keeping him from advancing any further. She looked over once she noticed he'd paused, and nearly sobbed as she saw Sebastian.

Ines finally snapped into action three seconds after the door open, pulling her gun out of her holster and raising it to point at Moran.

Moran was already moving, however, and before she could fully raise the weapon he was on her, his knife slashing across the inside of her wrist, parting the tendon. She screamed and dropped the gun, which he stooped to pick up. The shot rang through the tiny room like a bombshell, echoing over and over again as Ralph slumped slowly sideways, most of the right half of his head splattered on the floor beside him. Moran shoved the body aside and wrapped one arm around Lorna, helping her up and turning the gun on Ines, but the Algerian was already out the door, shouting commands and clutching her wrist.

Lorna screwed her eyes shut against the red mist, turning her face away, and was very disoriented to find herself suddenly up and against Moran. The scared part of her wanted to reject the physical contact, too freaked out to let herself be touched, but the rest of her pressed in further, chasing the feeling she'd been craving for months. Other than keeping herself up, she knew she wasn't going to be much help for him, not with the way her hands were shaking and her heart was pounding.

He got moving immediately, shooting the first guard to come running in through the head, and the next in the chest. There was a pause in footsteps, so he tucked the gun in his trousers for a moment and grabbed the guard's keycard, tucking it into his pocket and heading for the hall, glancing back and forth before moving a cell down. He swiped the card and kicked the door open. "Jim! Let's go, now!" he snarled, before letting go of Lorna and turning to shoot another guard who had entered the hall.

Jim was out in the hall in seconds, having heard the commotion and prepared himself accordingly. He was still in handcuffs, unfortunately, but he was much more present than Lorna, who looked a little hazy at the moment. "What's the plan, Moran?" He asked sharply, eyes scanning the hall.

"Yeah, about that," he grunted, clearing the hall before bending to help Lorna up again, heading for the stairs. "Car and go. We'll come back later."

Jim swore but couldn't argue, just nodded and followed, feeling annoyingly defenseless with the handcuffs on. He would have been angry with Moran for having put them on him in the first place, if he thought the man had had any idea that this would go down. Judging by Lorna's state of undress, someone had tried to sexually assault her, and Moran had snapped. He would need to have a talk with him about that being the line, but for right now, he would follow his bodyguard's instructions without complaint.

When they hit the stairs, Moran scooped Lorna up against his chest and took the stairs two at a time, suddenly thanking whoever was out there for all the days he'd taken the stairs to Ines's office in the last few weeks.

He shot two more guards in the stairwell, but it was only three flights to the garage and then they were diving into the first car they saw- a grey maintenance van. He hot-wired it in the span of a few seconds, and they were careening out onto the street while he wracked his brain for somewhere they could go.

Jim set about finding something in the van to free himself from the handcuffs, ignoring their plight for a moment while he worked on his comfort. He lucked out and found a paperclip in the glove compartment, and after a minute he was free, and lifted his head to look at the situation. "We need to leave the country," he said as they were forced to stop at a red light. "As far as I know, Armetti was untouched. He's still in love with Harrison. We can go there."

He nodded in agreement, already heading for the airport. "We need to find Lorna a shirt. Any chips you can cash in at Heathrow, or are we just going to have to steal the plane?"

"We won't need to steal a plane, I can get us in," he shook his head, turning and looking into the back of the van, where Lorna was sitting in silence, her hands in her lap. "Harrison. Look and see if there's a shirt or something back there. And clean off your lip."

She just looked at him for a second, unhearing.

They hit another red, and Moran slammed on the brakes, swearing and looking over his shoulder to see if they were being followed. Then his eyes landed on Harrison. He grit his teeth, looked forward again. "Lorna, listen to me. You are safe. No one is going to touch you. Find a shirt."

His voice filtered into her ears further than Jim's did. She wanted to hear Sebastian, so she made an effort to. Without saying anything in response, she shifted onto her knees, beginning to sluggishly search. Jim let out a relieved sigh, turning back around.

Sebastian got underway again, doing his best to lose them in traffic. "Jim, take my knife from my belt and cut open the fabric of the roof above you. You should find a small yellow box. Rip it out and break it," he said as he swerved through a few lanes of traffic.

"Tracking device, or something else?" He asked, leaning over to get the knife from his belt and then doing as he said, grunting with the small effort. Lorna was putting on a black zip-on hoodie in the back, and then rubbing her bloodied lip.

"Tracker," he agreed, swerving to take an exit last minute after Jim broke the device. He got off the highway entirely, and then got on in the opposite direction. "Let'em think we headed north," he muttered, taking the exit for Heathrow.

"Good idea," Lorna said quietly in the back, still looking a mess, but not so pressing that authorities would stop them. "Where are we going?"

Jim glanced back at her. "America. Armetti."

Moran let them talk, and concentrated on driving. They pulled into Heathrow a few minutes later. "Where am I going, Jim?" he asked as they approached the turn offs for various sections of the terminals.

"Doesn't matter. Pick a terminal, all I need is to use a phone inside," he said, waving his hand a little bit. His wrists hurt from the handcuffs.

He nodded, pulling into domestic departures, which was closest. "Come in with you, or stay here?"

"Stay here, I'll only be a minute," Jim said, unbuckling his seat belt as they slowed down. "I'll have new directions when I'm out."

He nodded, pulling to a stop. "You have ten minutes. I'm going to circle the block. If I'm not back, or you're not, assume the other got caught and keep going."

"Understood," Jim said, ignoring that they would be in a bit of a sorry state without him, and got out of the van, immediately heading for the doors. Time to get to work.

Moran immediately pulled away from the curb, merging back onto the road and heading for the first turnaround.

"Lorna," he said, glancing over his shoulder at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road. "You still with me?"

She blinked, eyes flitting up to him. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm with you," she said quietly, nodding a little.

"Once we are in the air, I will happily do whatever you need, but right now I need to focus on getting us out of here. So just stick with me until then, alright?" He passed a car driving half the speed limit and took a hard right.

"Yeah, I know, I will," she agreed, her knees drawn up to her chest. "Don't worry about me right now, I'll be okay."

"I'm going to worry. I just can't do anything about it," he muttered, glancing at the clock and turning around, heading back.

She fell back into silence, incapable of carrying conversation right now. As they pulled back up to the departure gate, Jim came back out, looking slightly more relaxed. He got back into the van. "Head for the employee entrance. My contact will meet us there."

He didn't question, just took off again, turning down a service road and pulling into the employee parking lot. He parked, and climbed out. His shoulder had ripped open at some point, and the blood was starting to soak through his shirt, but that was half the reason he wore crimson. He looked around the parking lot, then walked around to open the door for Jim and Lorna. "Alright, let's go."

Jim led the way, bringing up a hand to wave at a man in a security uniform who came up to them. "Sir? Right this way, please, we had a canceled private flight, you can borrow one of the smaller jets," he said, beckoning them to walk with him. "Any luggage?"

"No."

Moran kept a careful eye on Lorna as they walked. He wanted to pull her into a tight hug, just keep her close and safe and here , because fuck he had missed her. But he had no idea what she needed right now, and his best guess was that touching her would be a bad idea. So he kept his distance, walked quickly, and wished he'd pocketed his bottle of painkillers this morning.

The security officer led them through the back workings of the airport, ignoring any odd looks they received, seeming to feel that as long as they didn't stop no one would try to apprehend them. He led them out onto the tarmac after a few minutes, making a beeline for an expensive looking plane, whose stairs were already extended down to the runway. "Alright, go ahead and board. You'll be moved to the top half of the queue. There should be people waiting for you in New York. If you need anything else, ask the flight staff, they'll be happy to arrange it for you. Now I have to be off. Have a good flight, folks." He turned and left, and Jim led the way up the stairs confidently.

The door closed almost immediately after they boarded. Moran evaluated the plane carefully for anything amiss, ignoring the friendly flight attendant as he tried to lead them to plush seats, his smile and safety speech relaxed and unhurried as the plane got underway. Moran didn't unclench until they cleared the ground, but then he took a slow breath, eyes on the flight attendant but otherwise relaxed. He looked at Lorna, sitting across from him. "Alright?"

"Physically, yeah, mostly," she said, lifting a finger to probe at her split lip, frowning a little. "I'll deal. Not the first time this has happened. One of the few where I was actually rescued, so that's nice."

He nodded just a little, sitting back slowly and taking a long breath. His shoulder throbbed, and his shirt was sticky. "I'm sure you both have questions..."

Lorna shook her head, but Jim scoffed. "You could say that again. What the fuck happened. Walk me through it. Debrief me."

So he did. He started at the beginning, at waking up in the army barracks, and gave Jim the details of everything that had happened. The torture, the decision to grift Ines, the takeover and security work... Right up to the moment he had heard about Harrison and had decided to expedite his plans. "...which is when I opened your cell," he said finally, tiredly, a few minutes later.

Jim nodded, digesting the story. Lorna didn't react at all. She just thought about it, putting herself in his place easily. She would have done the same thing.

She got out of her seat and moved across the aisle to collapse in his lap.

He winced just slightly as she hit his shoulder, shifting her over against the good side of his chest, holding her tightly and doing his best not to get blood on her. "I missed you," he said very quietly.

"Do I even have to say it?" She asked wearily in a sad attempt at a joke. "God. It felt like I couldn't breathe when you died. I missed you so much."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I did the best that I could to keep you both safe." He was so glad that she was here in his arms, that everything was over. "I never want to grift again," he said with a half-hearted laugh.

"Yeah, that's valid," she snorted, shutting her eyes and just taking in the feeling of him again. Jim appeared to be ignoring them, but she wasn't sure what he felt about the whole thing. "You can have hits back, and I'll take over grifting, yeah?"

He laughed a little. "Let's focus on getting the network back first," he said dryly, reaching up to twine his fingers into her hair gently.

She had to fight not to start crying, everything suddenly taking over her at once now that she was wrapped up in his arms, safe and sound. Every night she'd spent alone and heartbroken in an empty bed, every morning she'd had to get up and do his job, every moment she'd spent trying to survive in a world without him. The relief she'd had to stuff down inside of her when she'd found out he was alive, the brief hopelessness before he'd shown her the ring he still wore on his finger.

She let out a hitched breath, leaning further into him.

He held her a little tighter, ignoring Jim's raised eyebrow as he bent to speak in her ear quietly. "I'm here," he said softly. "I am here, and I love you, and I am not going fucking anywhere."

She nodded a little, her hand curling in his shirt. Ironically enough, this was the safest she'd felt in months, not even an hour after she'd been sexually assaulted, and now fleeing the country. He felt like home to her. "Stop giving us that look, Jim."

The mastermind snorted. "What else am I supposed to do? You're nauseating." But for once he didn't sound annoyed. "How's your shoulder, Moran?"

"I'll need to get the stitches redone when we land."

Jim nodded. "I'm sure Armetti can find someone."

"And you? I tried to keep the damage minimal, but-"

"I'm fine." He waved the concern off with raw fingers.

Lorna's eyes opened to look at Jim. She didn't say anything for a moment, but just appraised him. "You shouldn't fib to your bodyguard."

Jim met her gaze. "Firstly, I am fine. It takes a lot more than a few missing fingernails to lay me out. Secondly, right now he isn't my bodyguard. He's suspended pending investigation."

She scoffed, raising her eyebrows at him. "And who are you going to use to investigate him, huh? That's ridiculous. Without him we'd both be in there right now. And I doubt Ines volunteered to have her wrist slit open to stage our escape."

He raised an eyebrow, glanced at Moran again, and sighed. "What the fuck should I do, then? Your story is reasonable, but at the same time there are millions of other possible scenarios. And you can't tell me you faked how much you enjoyed fucking that woman. Lorna hasn't forgotten, I'm sure." He glanced at Harrison.

Lorna sighed. "No, of course not," she said, shaking her head a little, as if she wasn't in Moran's lap. "But Jim, let's be honest. You and I fucked enough while he was gone. Can you say it was for any other reason than getting a little release?"

He stood, then, heading for the mini fridge and pulling it open, removing a bottle of scotch and a few chilled glasses. He set them on the small table, and opened the bottle with a wince before Moran could offer help. He was silent as he poured, then sighed. "This whole thing is a bloody mess."

"Things with the three of us involved usually are," she sighed, her eyes very fixed on the glasses. "Hey. Don't... don't pour me too much."

He looked over at her, then nodded a little, pouring less than a finger into one glass and well over two into the others. He passed them their glasses and sat back with his own, taking a long sip.

"That was clever, with the saline, Moran."

He shrugged. "Delay tactic, mostly."

"What was the plan otherwise?" She asked, taking the glass with an overly firm grip. She'd been staving off withdrawal with tiny bottles of low-proof alcohol for about three weeks, and having this in front of her was a little overwhelming.

Moran glanced at Harrison a bit warily, before taking a sip of the scotch. "I was converting the security system like she asked, but I was writing myself a network of backdoors. When it was done I would have been able to control that building completely. I was close, but then..." He shrugged.

"Yeah, shit happened," she agreed, taking a cautious sip. Jim's eyes were on her, assessing.

"Harrison, how capable would you be of going dry, right now?"

She groaned, rubbing her eyes. "I probably wouldn't die."

Moran chuckled, draining his glass and setting it aside. "Have this as a parting farewell. I'll go dry with you." He looked out the window, watching the clouds go past. "Once we get to Armetti's... then what?"

"We'll decide when we get there. I need to know how useful Armetti's data gathering abilities are. When we know more we can decide where to strike back. I don't want to go in blind," Jim replied, still sipping his scotch. Lorna nodded. Secretly, she was just relieved that Armetti wouldn't have an excuse to try and move in on her, not with Sebastian there.

He nodded. "My back doors should still exist," he said quietly, considering. "As far as I know, no one knew they were there. We can probably exploit them."

"Good, that will help, probably immensely," Jim nodded, shifting in his seat to get more comfortable. Honestly, he was slightly uncomfortable. Not physically, but with this situation. He had Moran back. The only person he had ever shed tears for. And his relationship with Harrison was now... weird. He'd fucked her because she was a part of the sniper, in his mind at least, but he had to admit to himself that if he hadn't enjoyed it, he wouldn't have continued doing it. He drank some more scotch and tried to stop thinking about social dynamics.

The scotch relaxed Moran, and he realized in retrospect that he probably shouldn't have drunk anything until they were safe at Armetti's. His stomach was empty and he was a bit low on blood, and the stuff hit him harder than he would have liked. He forced himself to focus, keeping his attention on Lorna, but eventually he was lulled by her warmth and the alcohol into a quiet doze.

Lorna was relieved that the flight was almost seven hours long, because she could feel Sebastian start to drift off below her, and the same started to happen after she downed the rest of her glass and set it aside. With her head pillowed on his chest, she promptly went to sleep.

Jim watched the two quietly while they slept. He poured himself another scotch, but took it slowly, turning the events of the last few months over in his mind, trying to find solutions to questions he couldn't even properly define.

Sebastian woke suddenly as the plane started to descend. His shirt crackled as he moved, the blood dried and glued to his skin. Lorna was asleep on his chest and he did his best not to disturb her, shifting her gently onto the seat next to him before he headed off to go take a piss. He nodded to Jim as he passed, but though the man was awake, he didn't acknowledge him.

Lorna woke up disoriented, unsure where exactly she was or how she'd gotten there for a second before she saw the empty seat next to her. Jim looked... mostly unperturbed, so she assumed Sebastian had just gone to the bathroom, and she settled back down again, yawning, eyes resting on Jim again. "What are you thinking about that you didn't take this one safe opportunity to nap?"

He met her gaze for a moment, and there was a brief second when he actually considered telling her.

Then he reigned himself in with a derisive snort and shrugged. "I spent enough time sleeping in that damned cell. Now is the time to plan. I want my network back."

She wasn't entirely sure she bought that, but hell if she was going to argue. She wasn't insane. There were lines she didn't dare go near, even after her stint as right-hand man.

"Yeah, that would be nice, wouldn't it? I really look forward to removing Ines' hands."

"It sounds like Moran already got a head start."

"Not nearly as much as I would have liked," Sebastian said as he walked out of the small restroom and headed back for his seat. "I cut a tendon, though. That'll fuck that hand up for a while."

"We seem to be extremely good at taking out our enemies hands," Lorna muttered, not looking extremely pleased. "Wish it was, I don't know, their fucking heads."

"It will be," he assured her firmly, reaching out to pull her into his lap again. He needed her there. "We won't be down for long. Very few in the network are hers. The rest think Jim appointed her in his absence. They have no idea where the two of you got off to. They'll support us."

"Christ, is that what happened?" She asked, sounding vaguely disappointed. "I suppose that means a good portion of them are still alive then. I wasn't sure, the way they raided the building."

He nodded. "Too costly and time-consuming to kill everyone. Ines had had people in security for more than a month-" he shot a look at Jim- "So when they raided, they sent in a small group at first, and they were 'defeated' by security and a wave of backup that had been supposedly brought in by Jim from off-site. Security cleared them and no one questioned, so Ines literally walked into the building, and security took her up to you. You were both... occupied..." Another look- "So there wasn't much of a struggle there either.

"I'm willing to let the security lapse jib by, but after the way you fucked that woman I don't think I want to hear from your high and mighty celibacy horse about how they caught us fucking," Jim snapped, his accent getting a little stronger for a moment. He felt surprisingly strongly about that. "Even if we hadn't been busy, what would have been different? If Harrison had even been up to the task of protecting me, she would have been shot and I would be in the same position, except about to lose my third."

He rolled his eyes but didn't respond, just shook his head a little. "What the hell were you thinking, Jim? Not fucking Harrison, I can relate to what you were thinking there. But how could you let things slide so far out of control?"

Jim ignored the slight snort of amusement Lorna gave to the part of the sentence that concerned her, lifting a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose. "I don't know, Moran. I don't know."

"Don't bullshit me," he said, shaking his head. "You always know. I was playing a part, Jim, but some of that was based in truth- what's the point of my protecting you if this is the result of my death?"

Jim steamed in silence for a moment, then said, in a short, clipped manner, "Moran, for Joseph, Mary, and all the fecking Saints, I can not explain to you what came over me. I was furious, Moran. You've been by my side for the greater part of a decade and I grew comfortable. Accustomed. I was on my own for the first time in a long time, and I decided very quickly that I didn't adjust as well to it as I wanted to. I'm a largely solitary man, but victory isn't as sweet without someone to compliment you on it. The king is still the king if you take away his advisers, but he isn't a very good one."

Sebastian was silent for a long while after that, processing what Jim had just said. Finally, he nodded a little. "Well, then, boss, I'll just have to work on not dying again."

Jim fell into an angry silence, bitter he had said that out loud. It was the closest thing to admitting he had feelings, and it was extremely uncomfortable. He didn't feel like himself.

Lorna remained extremely still and quiet, afraid of drawing anyone's attention, considering what she'd just been privy to hearing.

Moran let the silence continue, broken only by the captain's voice on the intercom telling them to buckle in for landing. He shifted Harrison off of his lap into the seat beside him, and strapped in, but his mind was elsewhere. Mainly on what Jim had just said. He knew better than to react, but the implications were still staggering. The king is still the king if you take away his advisors, but he isn't a very good one.

He knew Jim cared, but never had he expected the man to admit it.

When they landed, the friendly flight crew reappeared and helped them get off the plane fairly quickly. Disorientingly, the sky was just about as bright as the one they'd left seven hours ago. On the tarmac, one of the attendants pointed to the door they needed to enter, and said, "I believe if you want to call a cab you can do so toll-free inside. Is there anything else I can do for you before you depart?"

Sebastian considered saying he'd left something aboard, walking on and cleanly dealing with the crew, but their disappearance would raise more flags than their standard flight, and instead he shook his head. "That will be all." He headed for the building, keeping Jim and Lorna in his sights.

Lorna gravitated back towards Moran's side as they headed for the building, her hand brushing his. She didn't want to be separated from him again for even a second. Jim gave them a look, but then returned his attention to their surroundings. "We need to get a burner. To call Armetti."

Moran nodded in agreement as they entered the terminal. To his relief, it only took a word from Jim and they were through customs with no questions asked. He didn't bother to try and figure out why that was, there were more important issues at hand.

Jim used a payphone to call a cab, speaking with a light Spanish accent rather than his typical Irish. He hung up and wiped down wherever he'd touched with a handkerchief. "We'll stop at a corner store and buy a phone and some less... eye-catching clothing." Between his and Lorna's tattered, filthy outfits, and Moran's expensive suit, they were turning heads.

Lorna nodded, pulling up the zipper on the hoodie she was wearing, worried it would slip down and turn even more heads. Jim led them through the airport as if he was familiar with it, which was surprising, since she was pretty sure she had been there more times than he ever had. They came out into the loud New York air again and headed almost immediately into the cab Jim had called, all piling into the backseat, which was uncomfortable for everyone.

Moran let Lorna take the middle. She was on better terms with Jim than he was. He tucked her under his arm, on the premise of saving space.

Jim called for a stop at a mobile shop and returned ten minutes later with a phone, which he promptly threw in the river as they crossed a bridge. Then he gave the cabby a new address, a few miles out of the city, and lay back.

Lorna didn't pay much attention to where they were going. She didn't really know where Armetti was nesting these days, and she didn't have the energy to look for familiar landmarks. She just sat in silence, her head pillowed on Sebastian's shoulder. She didn't think she could ever get sick of being pressed against him. It felt awkward now, though, now that she had reached a new level with Jim. She felt differently about what he thought of her. Of them; her and Sebastian. She didn't want him to interfere because he didn't trust his bodyguard anymore.

There's no you and me, this impossible year
Only heartache and heartbreak and gin made of tears
The bitter pill I swallow, the scar's souvenir
That tattoo, your last bruise, this impossible year

There's never air to breathe, there's never in-betweens
These nightmares always hang on past the dream...

- Panic! At The Disco - Impossible Year -