.. No Good Choices ..

Zach

The house looked the same as I remembered. Somehow, I wasn't surprised that this is where we'd ended up, where everything had led us. It made sense really. This started here, years ago, when Ally and I were too young to even guess what a phone call could do to our lives. Before we'd met Eva, before we knew what our mother was. It all had led us to this.

Alyson hadn't blinked since we'd pulled up. I couldn't read her the whole ride. It made me uneasy. There was too much at risk for this to be another one of Alyson's games. But there was too much to lose if we didn't try.

Cammie touched my arm as we walked to the door. "Should we restrain her?" Her voice was quiet, but that didn't prevent Ally from scoffing in front of us.

She turned around, holding out her wrists. "Go ahead, Cameron." She grinned. "Point your gun at me if that makes you feel more comfortable."

There was a beat in which they just looked at each other.

Behind us, I heard Townsend shut his car door. We'd taken two vehicles, an extra precaution in case Evelyn had decided to tail one of us. Alyson's eyes flickered to him as he joined us on the path. She took a step back, the grin dropping as she turned her attention to the house. There was something in her eyes I couldn't name. For a second I wondered if she was thinking the same thing I was. For the first time in over a decade we were back at our childhood home— together— and with our father.

"Let's not waste time," Townsend said, adjusting his jacket. "I believe we have a job to do."

Alyson's eyes flickered to Cammie for a second before she turned and opened the door.

The house hadn't changed since we'd left it almost a year ago. Dust had gathered on the counters again. There were rustles as something hid away when we entered, a squirrel most likely. But the furniture was in the same position we'd arranged it. The curtains were still tied at the edges of the windows. It was a small section of the world that hadn't seemed to shift dramatically in the past few months.

I hated being here just as much as last time.

Cammie and Townsend stayed downstairs, keeping watch and making sure we hadn't been followed. Beside me, Alyson rolled different vials from a hidden compartment in her bedroom wall. She hadn't said a word since we'd walked through the door.

"When did you make this?" I asked, tapping the panel of the wall she'd shifted out of the way.

There was no answer. The silence from her was unnerving. It wasn't natural. I'd expected her to throw taunts or to bring up things I'd wished to forget. I'd expected a bite or jab or guilt trip. In all honesty, I wouldn't have been surprised if Evelyn had been waiting for us in our room to help Alyson kill us. Instead, there had been nothing but silence from my sister. It was shocking how much it bothered me. We were alone in our childhood home and she hadn't even looked at me since entering the house.

I huffed. "Alyson—"

"Don't, Zach," She hissed, finally looking up; her expression froze me. She didn't grin, didn't glare, didn't try to hide anything at all. The mask had fallen. There was a well of emotion in her eyes, something she'd fought showing me since we were kids. For a moment I forgot what we were doing, where we were- because this Ally, this was the Ally I remembered growing up, raw anger in her eyes and a cold determination in her tone.

"Just… don't," she said, turning back to the vials. She looked between two of them, fingering the labels.

My eyes lingered on her hands. She hadn't been wearing gloves when she walked in at Gallagher. But she had always been careful, crossing her arms, using her hands as she spoke, keeping them turned at just the right angle. A knot twisted in my gut. How much of it was second nature to her now?

Possibly the hardest part of this entire situation was watching her grip things a little too tightly. Watching her shake out her fingers every few minutes.

I'd done this to her. Not once had I intended to hurt my sister when we were young, but it didn't change the fact this was my fault. I couldn't bring myself to regret leaving them behind, choosing to follow Joe and leave the Circle behind me. I wasn't the only one who had made a decision. But Alyson's hands were a result of my decision, unknowing or not. Evelyn and Clara's capture after the Circle's destruction was partially my fault.

Alyson pulled her hands back quickly, tossing a vial at me. I caught it, but when I turned back to her, the mask was back in place, a dark glare in her eyes. Her arms were crossed again, safely tucking her fingers from view.

There was nothing that could validate what Alyson had done— nothing that would make me accept it as the right decision. My sister had done horrific things. But so had I. One of the fundamental differences between us had always been the fact I hated everything we did. Alyson didn't. She always seemed to thrive in every mission. Every target.

But watching her closely… It struck me how much Grant had been right about. She wasn't the same as she used to be. She seemed wilted. The attitude and threats and games, they were all there, but something was lacking. She was an echo of who she used to be, and without the next mission before her, she was off balance.

Alyson used to say we didn't have a choice in what we did. I always insisted we did. Looking back, I still believe we did, though now I understand what Alyson meant. If we wanted to survive, if we wanted any sense of control in our own lives, there was only one thing we could do. Obey.

I'd done what I'd needed to do in order to keep Cammie safe. She'd done what she needed to do to keep Clara and herself safe. Our methods were different. Perhaps our morals were too. But who was I to judge when the same blood was on my hands.

She'd gone too far. She'd liked it. That was the difference between us. But the girl who'd walked into Gallagher was someone different. She was broken, she was scared— angry, yes, but not out for blood. At moments during our conversations, it almost felt like old times, before the wall went up between us.

My sister may have been burned, and it may have been partially my fault.

But she wasn't dead.

"This is what you need," Alyson said, shoving a vial at me. She stood up, turning to go back through the door, away from the room we first promised to keep each other safe in. Away from what we used to be.

I stood to follow her. "Alyson—"

She turned faster than I thought she would, eyes blazing. "I don't want to talk to you right now, Zach." She turned around again, nearly making it to the front door.

Reaching out, I grabbed her arm. Alyson hissed quietly, yanking away roughly. A second later, we were outside, and Alyson was marching back to the car.

Cammie watched her from her spot on the porch. When the car door slammed shut, she glanced at me, relief flooding her expression when I held up the vial. "We should go," she said. "Who knows how Liz is doing."

I nodded. She was right. We could deal with whatever issues Alyson and I were having on the way back to Gallagher.

We were almost to the car when the first shot landed at Cammie's feet. Alyson was out of the car in an instant, eyes scanning the area. Beside me, Cammie was already moving to take cover. I heard Townsend yell something over the comms, but couldn't make it out.

Evelyn was here. That, or someone else was staking out my mother's house with intentions to kill us. If she was here, then the search team wouldn't be far behind, assuming Grant was able to track Evelyn. Having to rely on assumption always made me uncomfortable.

"It was a warning." Alyson was beside us now, lips pressed together in a firm line. "She wants you to know she's here," she said pushing past Cammie and me.

The house was our best cover. Until we found out where Evelyn was, our best chance at not getting shot lay with its protection. Another shot rang out. This time, right on our heels. As we crossed the porch, I hesitated. There was something nagging at my memory. An instinct that was bred into me after years of training together.

I frowned, my feet slowing. "Evelyn never misses."

Alyson paused, watching me. Her breathing was labored, eyes urgent as they flickered around the area "Zach—"

Before Alyson could finish, I grabbed Cammie's arm and pulled. Her eyes widened as she flipped back, falling the few steps off the porch. We stumbled down, only taking a second to regain our balance. The next second, I was turning, facing my sister. "Where is it?"

She blinked, raising her eyebrows for a moment before Cammie was drawing her gun, pointing it at my sister's chest.

Alyson stared at us for a second. "I have no idea what you're talking about." The words seemed genuine. If only that were enough from her.

I shook my head. "Evelyn doesn't miss—"

"She does if she's having a breakdown."

"Alyson!"

In an instant, she moved, knocking the gun from Cammie's hand and stepping towards me. It only took a second for Cammie to have the gun trained on her back again. Alyson didn't look particularly concerned with that fact. She narrowed her eyes, voice low. "I could have killed your girlfriend a long time, ago, Zachy. If you think I'm going to put myself through your therapy sessions just to try to kill her here with a stupid bomb, then you're a real dumbas—"

"I'm not sure what kind of protocol you all are following," Townsend said, coming around the house, his own gun drawn, "But it would be preferable if you stopped acting like children and started being the operatives you were trained to be." He made his way to move towards the house.

"Townsend, wait—"

The blast wasn't the worst thing. In fact, it happened too quickly to remember. What I registered was the pain as my head hit the ground, the heat of the blast singing my side. The breath was sucked from my chest, filling instead with ash and heat. My head swam, the world a dizzying mix of orange and black.

There were voices echoing from somewhere around me. My eyes were bleary as they searched for the source. An endless ringing filled my ears as I blinked, sitting up.

Cammie.

There was a beat before I found her, lying on her back near the car, two figures hovering over her. I stumbled to my feet, pushing against the wave of nausea.

Alyson was yelling. That much was evident from her face, eyes wide, almost… scared. The ringing in my ears didn't allow me to make out words, but my focus was more on who Alyson was screaming at.

I wasn't sure where she'd come from, but Evelyn looked perfectly at home in the chaos around her, light and shadows flickering over her face from the fire raging in the house. It almost seemed like the explosion itself had brought her, blazing and dangerous as any bomb.

Evelyn's eyes were wild, a gun in either hand. One of them had most likely been Cammie's. My heart lodged itself in my throat, the sheer panic I'd felt only a few times before rushing through my veins with the adrenaline.

My movements seemed too slow, taking the few steps towards Evelyn. Noise rumbled in my ears, coming back in waves. Alyson wasn't screaming anymore, but there was the crackling flames from the house.

When Evelyn noticed me, she grinned. Her eyes a little too wide, the mania clear. When she spoke, it sounded like she was speaking in a tunnel. "Look, who's up in time to see his girl die."

Alyson's eyes flickered to me. She looked worried, her fingers seemed to twitch before she clenched her fists again and again. Cammie still appeared to be unconscious.

"Get away from her, Evelyn."

Evelyn smirked. "No, I've waited too long for this, Zachary." She stepped closer to Cammie, gun still trained on her. Her other hand moved carelessly, still holding the second gun.

"Eva—" Alyson started, stepping closer.

"Shut up, traitor," Evelyn snapped before turning back to me. "You left us in a fire, Zachary. I think it only makes sense that you lose everything in one too," she said, a crazed laugh in her voice. "But here, let me give you one last thing." She raised her other gun, pointed it directly at Alyson's chest. Ally froze, glaring at her best friend.

I stared at Evelyn as she laughed. "What?" she asked. "You've done it before."

My heart stopped for a moment, blood running cold.

"Don't be an idiot, Zachy." Alyson's voice was emotionless. There was a deadness in her eyes that I'd never seen before.

"Tick tock, I don't have all day." Evelyn tilted her head a gleeful glint in her eyes.

Sometimes there were no good choices.

One more chapter. Then the epilogue. Then the end.

Excuse me while I try not to explode at the thought.

(I'm sorry if this is sloppy in some areas, it's late and I'm not positive I edited it fully, but I meant to update sooner than this, so... here.)