I am so overwhelmed by your responses – this chapter is all especially for you! And for the person that asked; no this is not the last chapter (I've got so much more in store for you *cue evil laughter*).
Also, cudos to Nicole who is the lifeblood of this whole story!
PART II
Killian didn't go back to the office after he dropped Prince off. He bypassed it completely, his mind on the straight and narrow as he left the BAU building, bound for CIA headquarters. Twenty minutes later, under the guise of bringing her dinner, Killian burst through the Intelligence Agency's tech room so suddenly that Ruby squeaked as she spun in her chair. Victor was nowhere to be seen – a stroke of good luck. The brunette frowned at the agent as he stalked in, absent-mindedly setting the bag of MacDonald's down somewhere beside him.
"As much as I love –"
"Ruby, I need you to look at surveillance tapes from Broadway Street Police Station from about three to four weeks ago –"
"What's going on?" she asked, a genuine note of fear in her usually chipper voice. He must have looked as wrecked as he felt and he simply stared at her for a second.
"It's Emma," he finally said, his icy blue eyes boring down into her soft brown ones which widened at his words. Millions of questions must have whirred through her head in that moment and he could almost see them flitting in her eyes. With such a vague answer he'd given her, he prepared himself for a bombardment of questions, of demands to elucidate what he meant.
He was pleasantly surprised.
Almost instantly she spun around in her chair, fingers typing up a storm on her keyboard while he took the opportunity to sit down in Victor's vacant seat.
"What am I looking for?" she asked, never once breaking her typing rhythm as she logged in and outsourced the footage from Broadway Street that he'd mentioned as he burst in. Her brow was already pulled into a line of resolve, ready and awaiting his instructions.
He rubbed his forehead, "Three or four weeks ago, a meeting of some kind between two men? It would look suspicious and one of the men is James Prince." Ruby swallowed hard but coursed on, her eyes narrowed fiercely as she sifted through file after file, the footage eventually appearing on screen. For about three minutes, days zoomed by on fast forward before them, until they found exactly what they were looking for.
"Stop!" Killian crowed.
She paused the grainy tape and reversed it just enough so that it started at the three black sedans' arrival. Killian watched closely as they pulled to a stop on the opposite side of the street and, after a moment, several men were expelled from the vehicles. They were all suited, except for one.
He walked calmly over to a park bench a short distance down the street and took a seat. Less than five minutes later, Prince showed up clad in dark sunglasses and a black cap. The disguise managed to cover the majority of his features but after having just been in close proximity with him, Killian could recognise him with ease.
Prince sat down beside the casually dressed man and they spoke for around ten minutes – which Ruby fast-forwarded for time's sake – before the unknown man stood and began walking back to his cars. However, before he entered the central sedan, he tilted his head up and proceeded to look directly at each of the cameras on the street.
Something about it disconcerted Killian and he felt his stomach clench uncomfortably.
Regardless of how it made him feel, it also gave them the perfect head shot from which they could run an identity search. Ruby didn't even need to be asked before she was using what she could gather from the video to outsource the mystery man. There was a beep as the file appeared on screen and Killian slid his chair closer so he could read the document over Ruby's shoulder.
Neal Cassidy.
But as their eyes scanned the page the only things they could register that weren't redacted by black ink was that he was a former arms dealer who'd worked primarily in France eight years ago. There was a seal at the top of the page that gave them their next stop on the technological circuit: Interpol.
"Can you –"
"Hack into Interpol? One second, sweetie," she said, already dodging firewalls and security installations. Distantly, it occurred to Killian that what they were doing was illegal, highly illegal in fact. Hacking into international data servers in order to steal information from international protection agencies wasn't exactly under their clearance as BAU employees.
Neither seemed to bat an eyelash though, both brains in the same frame of mind as they stared at the computer monitor.
There was another beep as unsealed documents spread across the dozen screens in front of them and Killian had to push his chair backwards to look at them all. Far enough away, he stood and ran his eyes hesitantly over the plethora of information laid before him. As his eyes flitted between them he gathered several important facts: Neal had been the subject of an undercover operation, said operation had been successful in bringing him down, afterwards he was sent to Kaechon Political Prison Camp in North Korea and several months ago he had escaped.
Six profiles were spread out across the monitors, each pertaining to the individuals directly involved in the case. Killian read the names of each one, left to right as they existed alphabetically.
August Booth – Protocol Officer
Jefferson Grant – Unit Chief
Graham Humbert – Assistant Undercover
Gus Krekovich – Technology Analyst
Miranda Souillez – Assistant Undercover (Local Guide)
He felt his stomach drop to the floor at the same time Ruby gasped, the next name appearing in broad black letters in his mind.
Emma Swan – Undercover Agent
She looked so much younger in the photograph that accompanied her file, her features open and determined and even a little bit naïve. It was a completely different person he was staring at on the screen. Reading her file, he felt his heart drop into his stomach like a dumbbell. Her cover had lasted months and she'd managed to infiltrate Neal's trust circle – which implied a level of intimacy that made Killian cringe.
The file notes recorded by third parties made suggestions of perhaps getting too deep in her cover. They also mentioned her abrupt departure the very second Neal was in custody.
Swallowing the panic already starting to rise up in him, he turned to each of the files again, thick red block letters shifting to the forefront of his mind on three of the six files.
Miranda Souillez – DECEASED
Gus Krekovich – DECEASED
Graham Humbert – DECEASED
Looking closer, he heard Ruby voice his thoughts as they appeared in his mind, "All three died in the past couple of months since Cassidy was released," she said, her voice a shocked whisper, like wind through leaves in the dead of night. It didn't take an expert to put together why Emma had disappeared and he turned around to look at the tech analyst as realization crossed both their faces.
Suddenly, every memory of Emma in the past few months – since that very first day in the gym – was thrust under a new light. Trying to push him away, keeping to herself, the phone calls, the exhaustion in her gaunt face; it all made sense. He couldn't imagine finding out that a powerful man you'd put in jail had escaped, let alone combining that with the grief of losing people she had surely cared about at least once in her life and the ever-present fear that would have accompanied having a vengeful criminal haunting your every footsteps.
Everything shifted into place before his eyes to form a frightening image, one that pulled him from his reverie with a new fervency. Emma is in danger.
Neal Cassidy knew everything about her, had known everything about her for weeks.
Did she know that?
Was that why she went undercover?
His heart hammered a staccato against his chest, like a wild beast trying to beat free from the cage of his ribs.
"I need you to track Emma – her credit history, her whereabouts, anything," Killian said, leaning forward on the back of Ruby's chair, his knuckles turning paper white as he clenched the supple leather of the seat. She wordlessly obeyed his requests, leaning forward so her face was closer again to the screen.
It was far easier to get a hold of the blonde agent's credit history than her whereabouts, so naturally they were the first items to appear on the monitor. However, as he felt the tech analyst stiffen in the chair, he wanted to curse.
"Killian."
"What?"
"I don't think Emma's laying low."
For the second time that night, he froze.
"Why?"
She pointed one of her artfully painted fingernails at the screen, specifically to one line on a docket dated the day prior. It was a three thousand dollar deposit to a man named Charlander Wildes. Killian recognized the name and obviously, so did Ruby. Mr Wildes was renowned for his ability to procure weapons not usually permitted for the public. The only reason he hadn't been arrested yet was that there had yet to be any solid evidence on the man.
He was as elusive as smoke and charming as a fox.
He also had a strangely solid ethical code from what Killian remembered in that he didn't sell to drug dealers, pimps or any other individuals in that area of employment.
But what would she have bought for three thousand dollars?
The answer didn't truly matter, all that mattered was that Emma had purchased weapons the day before and, as Killian studied the profiles on the screen, he had a feeling he knew why. Graham Humbert had died only days ago in a shooting – the same one he'd been discussing only hours ago with Phillip and David outside the interrogation rooms.
Not only that but he'd been the home grown Assistant Undercover. Of all the agents in their unit, he would have been the one that Emma was closest too. And that thought, paired with his uncomfortably extensive personal experience, abruptly pushed Killian to a new conclusion.
She was getting revenge.
"Track Emma's movements and correlate them with Neal's," he instructed rapidly.
Ruby started typing again, "I'll use her phone and the number plates from that footage we pulled."
Another minute passed, which truthfully felt more like an hour before something happened. But, it wasn't Emma's location that came up on screen. Bright red writing flashed on the monitor directly in front of Ruby and she paused momentarily, seemingly stunned by whatever the writing entailed. Another beat of silence followed and Killian had to call her name to pull her back to the present.
She whipped her head to the side to look up at him, fresh panic glinting off her eyes, "There's a bug in her phone. Someone else has been tracking her movements."
If possible, he felt his chest constrict tighter, "What?"
"Someone else is tracking her movements and I think it's Neal!" she answered frantically and Killian was disconcerted to see tears of distress starting to well around the brown irises. They sparkled and danced in the low light of the room. Seeing it made him want to soothe the tech analyst but he couldn't afford to. The odds were already starting to pile up against Emma and they hadn't even isolated her location yet.
He put his hand on her shoulder, the only small comfort he could offer, "I need you to find Emma, right now and send me the location. How long will it take?"
"Long enough that you'll have it by the time you reach your car. Keep your phone on you," she answered and he felt a half-smile dust his lips at the notion that she knew exactly what he was thinking. He leaned forward to kiss her forehead gingerly before spinning on his heel and running out of her temporary office. By the time he'd reached the garage, as his feet slapped the cement floor loudly and he sprinted to his car, Ruby was calling again.
"Emma's been at the same location for half an hour, I've sent you the address - but Killian, there's one more thing."
He wanted to curse.
There was always a fucking catch.
"The main roads in that area are either congested or frequented by police presence. There are back streets but only one is freely available right now – the others have been closed because of suspicious threats, disturbances and one even has a flash mob on it. If you were a highly sought-after criminal, you would avoid any interaction with the police and any situations where your car was stationary for extended periods of time… Killian, she's organized it so the only street he can travel down – in the direction he's headed, with the requirements he'd have in mind – is the one she's sitting on. And he knows it."
Shit.
8888
He kept Ruby on speaker as he sped through Quantico towards the location shining red like a beacon on his phone's GPS, running about six red lights in the process. Halfway there Ruby made the decision that he wouldn't be able to take the road Emma was waiting on. By the time he took the necessary detour, Neal would be on Emma's street and she would be irretrievable from his grasp. So she made him park in a back street close by and was shouting instructions the second he jumped from the stationary vehicle.
"First left… turn right… left fork... take a left down this road," she directed, "You're now on the street parallel to her."
"Now what?" he gasped, out of breath from sprinting in an almost zigzag fashion through the smaller streets.
"Keep moving down – Killian he's getting close, you need to hurry up!" her frantic voice spurned him to push his already sore muscles harder and he ran headlong down the path until he heard her voice again, "On your left there should be a door to an abandoned shop coming up; take it."
It was rusted and easy to manoeuvre, and he had it swinging open with one well-placed kick. He had just passed the threshold when she was shouting orders again, her voice rising an octave as panic settled through her and transferred onto him, "There should be another door on your left, it leads to the alleyway. Emma is at the end of the alley – Killian they're on that street now – you have to get to her now and get her out!"
A fresh wave of adrenaline began to course through him as he ended the call and shoved it into his back pocket, shoving the door open and landing in the darkness of the alley. He used his momentum to turn on his heel.
His legs carried him like a bullet down the alley, his footsteps landing on the balls of his feet so not only were they quick but lithe and near soundless. Through the darkness he could see her crouched silhouette hiding behind a cement pot and pushed himself a little harder in spite of his tense muscles and burning lungs. There was about six meters separating them when he saw her roll out something that had been clenched between her fingers.
Confusion marred his forehead momentarily as it disappeared across the street, before he could just barely make out that it was a line of tire spikes, his thoughts affirmed when the first car crossed and began to swerve uncontrollably.
Fuck, he cursed inwardly, too late.
That would make his next job that much harder – because she'd already begun. But at the very least he could stop her from shooting, from immersing herself completely in the unforgiving light of danger. Because while there was no question that there was now a commotion, it didn't appear that she'd been seen – yet. If Neal knew she was there, he would be waiting in the wings somewhere for her to finish this pointless skirmish.
Killian watched as she stood up, her stance firm as she raised the long, sleek gun.
He readied himself as he finally came up behind her, moving his arms into a position that would make this quicker and easier.
Granted, he hadn't had to pull such a manoeuvre in a long time so he could only cross his fingers that he could brush off the dust and perform it with enough accuracy to strike success. But, even though it was risky, this was Emma – and he was more likely to jump in front of the cars than let her do something that had a 99% chance of getting her killed.
Praying to every deity he could think of, Killian swooped in behind her, hands shooting out to release the magnum and knock it away. Relief swept over him like a momentary tsunami as the ineffective click sounded and her body stiffened to a board. He knew he had less than a second before she would intercept him and any fight at this point was certain to draw attention and waste time.
His arm wound tightly around her waist before she even dropped the gun, his other hand cupped over her mouth to muffle any sounds as he dragged her back into the alley. She struggled in his grip, trying to gain some kind of leverage that would wrench him off.
They were completely shrouded by the darkness of the alley when she nearly managed to wriggle out of his purchase, so he spun her around and used his body to press her roughly into the brick wall to their left. His hand stayed clamped over her mouth and she grunted as her back hit the wall with a small thump. Killian watched as she looked up at him, face so close he could have felt her breath if his hand wasn't acting as a barrier.
Her eyes widened and her muscles went lax against him as she registered his face with permeable shock. For a fleeting second, that was all he saw – pure astonishment – and in that transitory moment, he pulled his hand away from her mouth, but didn't step back. She certainly was a sight for sore eyes. However, her surprise didn't take long to fade, replaced quickly by outrage and, only just visibly around the edges, concern. Her mouth pulled into a tight line as she glared up at him.
"What are you doing?" she hissed under her breath, green eyes flaring up with fury.
Killian's respite that he'd managed to snag her out of immediate danger's way died a quick death in the face of her heated glare. The softness of his features melted away in an instant and he narrowed his eyes in frustration, "Saving your life you idiot."
Emma shook her head, upper lip twitching with feral anger, "I don't need saving-"
Her words were cut off by the sound of voices at the end of the alley and both heads snapped in the direction of the noise so fast, Killian thought he heard their bones click together. Her phone was still sitting on the ground, screen up, and for a second she seemed about to move in that direction. But, before she could, they could just make out shadows approaching the entrance of the alley and, without hesitating, he seized Emma's wrist and began running as quietly as he could further into the darkness. She followed without protest, clearly acknowledging the danger of the situation they were now in.
As they reached the door which he'd come into the alley through, Killian stopped and pushed her in first, closing it gently behind him. The intermittent flashing yellow light of the torches was visible under the door as the owners of the voices outside searched the alleyway and, instead of waiting around, he grabbed her hand once more.
But this time she ripped it out of his grip, scowl so potent he felt as though acid should have exploded in his face.
"Listen, you can castrate me later, Swan," he said, striding into her personal space so he could deliver the message as quietly as possible, voice still taut with his own personal brand of wrath, "For now though, we need to get out of here before they come find us. So just bloody well follow me, would you?"
Emma's eyes burned into his for a moment longer, indecision appearing and disappearing like a brief spark of electricity, before she nodded stoically and took a step back. He took that as compliance and returned the stiff salute, turning on his heel and jogging unobtrusively towards the door that led to the street parallel to the one they'd just been on.
He opened it a fraction, scrutinizing the street for anything strange and was relieved to see it completely empty. He nodded for his partner to follow him as he opened the door fully, wincing when it creaked slightly, and slipped out of the building. She followed smoothly behind, eyes darting around like his, searching for a knot in the fabric of this precarious moment.
Luck, it seemed, was on their side for once.
They ran, uninterrupted, until they reached his car, neither speaking. Whether it was because they were out of breath or simply because of the choking tension, he didn't know. But, when the drive was just as wordless, he assumed it was the former.
Killian found a cheap motel and ordered Emma to stay in the car as he got a room. Again, surprisingly, she simply nodded, arms folded tightly across her chest. But even without her sharp words, he could feel the emotion boiling up inside her as it was in him – the strain building so that a crescendo was inevitable. After he retrieved the key and returned to the car, he motioned for her to follow him and they walked in stiff silence to their small room on the second floor.
The door closed with a soft click, the innocuous sound snapping the moments so it broke into tiny shards that littered the air, both agents whirling on each other in the tiny room.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she yelled, stalking two steps toward him, green eyes wild with rage like an untamed animal.
Killian pointed at her accusingly as he responded in an equally rancorous voice, "What the fuck is wrong with you? You were all but running to your death!"
Emma shook her head and clenched her fists, her knuckles going white. She strode forward another step and pinned him with her gaze, "I had it under control! I had a plan and you screwed it up -"
"What? Take out three cars filled with armed guards using one gun?" he interrupted, eyebrows raised with bitter incredulity. The cadence of his voice was like ice, sharp and transparent with uninhibited disquiet, "Sounds like a fucking kamikaze mission to me!"
"I've taken out more with less!" she retorted honestly but he had no concentration to spare being impressed. Killian's hand sliced through the air of its own accord, gesturing around the room as though the answer was strikingly obvious.
"Not when you were blinded by emotion!"
"I'm not blinded by emotion!" Emma spat scathingly, "I would have gotten it done and by now and he would have been dead if you hadn't fucking interceded like you always do –"
"He knew you were coming! He's anticipated it since the moment he touched down – counted on it, even! What self-respecting arms dealer doesn't take precautions when there's someone trying to kill him?"
She faltered momentarily before stepping back and narrowing her eyes doubtfully, "How could you even know that?"
"He had a track in your phone, Emma! Ruby found it in less than a minute! If you'd just come to us, you would have known that!" he chastised punitively, fixing her with a reproachful expression that lacked its usual softness. His jaw was tight and he could feel the vein in his neck surging forward against his skin, especially when she had the audacity to look infuriated by what he'd revealed.
"You hacked my phone?"
Killian considered her with disbelieving eyes, "If I hadn't, you'd be dead so don't act so fucking incensed!"
Emma took another step back and shook her head, voice lessening in volume but not sharpness, "You don't know that!" and then, with a frighteningly desperate edge, "You don't know him!"
"I know his type," he surged towards her, locking onto her eyes and refusing to let go as he tried to saturate his words with as much meaning as he possibly could, "and I also know revenge won't get you anywhere!" A voice in the back of his head screamed hypocrite but he chose to ignore it. Just because he sought it didn't mean it was something he would recommend to anyone else – especially Emma. Revenge was a soul-sucking endeavour and undeniably an end; it unearthed the good and replaced it with hatred and bile.
He could still feel the cavity in his chest left by its black-hilted shovel, an empty pit that had yet to be filled with the satisfaction of success.
Emma didn't deserve that.
"What?" she whispered, eyebrows drawing together.
He let his voice drop, the expression on her face making him soften as he said in a calmer tone, "I know he's killed your teammates from France. I know you put him away the first time. But Emma," he shook his head and implored her with his eyes, "you can't just do this – you can't just shoot blindly and expect to come out unscathed -"
"You've got no idea what you're talking about," Emma said, voice somewhere between hysterical and irate.
"Yes I do!" Killian countered with stunning honesty, his walls disappearing momentarily so she could see the truth in his words – even if she didn't understand the context, "And I'll be damned if I let you recklessly throw yourself into the fire just to catch a man out of vengeance!"
But even exposed raw, she shook her head at him and for a second he felt burned, before she muttered, affronted, "You think this is just out of some petty vengeance?"
"I'm sorry about your friends, Emma, but this is not how you pay homage to their memory."
Emma stepped around him and he turned around to follow her back with his eyes. Her shoulders heaved with every deep breath, her fingers trembling with the strain having them clenched caused, her eyes sparkling with a dangerous volume of emotion, "This is not just about them! This is not just because I'm angry he escaped!"
She turned around and pinned Killian with a look so poignant with pain he felt his heart tear, "It's not even just because he murdered my oldest friend!"
Anger bubbled to the surface in tandem with his frustration and he was walking towards her again, hands lifting and dropping exasperatedly, "Well, what else is there? Explain it to me because there's got to be a better excuse for your blatant stupidity!"
"He's coming after me!"
There was silence as her words seared themselves into his brain, every syllable forever burned into his memory. Seeing her expression, a voice admonished him for staying frustrated with her, for not moving immediately to comfort her. If he was truthful with himself, it wasn't fair – on either of them. But he deserved to know what was going on and she deserved his honesty, it was how they'd always worked in the BAU and it was going to work like that again now.
Hell or high water.
"Then why didn't you come to us? We could have helped, Emma!" he said, tenor still exacerbated but with a pleading edge. He wasn't completely heartless to the obvious discomfort on her face.
She shook her head, eyes starting to glisten with wetness, "No you couldn't! He wants to hurt me – and that means hurting you! And with Graham dead, that means you're next!" A shockwave ran through him at her admission and he stared at her, unable to comprehend what she'd just said. His brain hurt as it buzzed with concentrated emotions, but rather than sap his energy, it somehow only served to leave him more awake.
Maybe it was just because this was Emma.
Nevertheless, her words finally managed to sink in: He wants to hurt me – and that means hurting you. But…
"What?" Killian breathed.
Emma pointed at him, red eyes fixed on him as she answered, "He threatened you! All of you! He's coming after me which means you – the entire fucking team – are in his crosshairs!"
"Why did he threaten us?" he asked, something deep inside of him roaring to life as he watched her come apart at the seams, her voice breaking and cracking so she spoke in a raw cadence that squeezed the air from his lungs.
"Because he wants to hurt me…"
"But why does he want to hurt you?"
"Because I hurt him!" Emma yelled brokenly.
"By sending him to Korea?" Killian inquired.
"Yes – no. It's more than that!" She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead roughly, trying to physically untangle the knots in her head.
"What then?"
Emma's hand dropped so fast he felt like it splintered the air, her gaze snapping up to meet his with such intensity he was surprised he wasn't pushed back by the force of it, "I broke his heart! I killed his brother, destroyed his life!" She looked at the ground again, realization and horror playing out across her features like a sad symphony as she murmured, "And he wants to destroy mine."
With little warning, she dropped slowly down to sit on the floor with her back against the side of the bed. She brought her knees up to her chest and held them there, eyes glued to the floor as some internal monologue he wasn't privy to held her in place. It was such a vulnerable position – the most vulnerable position he'd ever seen her in.
They'd fought together for years, he'd seen her physically vulnerable a number of times and had acted on it swiftly to ensure his success on the practice mats. He'd seen her emotionally vulnerable a handful of times, never for long and never too raw. He'd seen her with gunshot wounds and tears in her eyes, but he'd never seen her so utterly broken.
It made him feel livid and wretched at the same time.
Killian moved slowly, like he was approaching a startled animal, kneeling down in front of her where she stayed unmoving in her upright fetal position.
"Emma," he said softly, waiting until she gradually – hesitantly – lifted her eyes to meet his, "What happened?" Silence answered his question and he could see her deciding whether or not to tell him, the way she studied him intensely. Her arms tightened around her legs and she leaned back against the side of the bed, looking at the ceiling as she finally responded in a monotone.
"…I was sent undercover when I was at Interpol. Neal was my third official mission. I was sent in to earn his trust, infiltrate the arms operation, and shut it down… but… I screwed up."
For a split second, Killian could only draw a blank. But then, with a certain level of poetic justice, he felt the last piece of the puzzle shift into place in his mind.
"You fell in love with him."
She didn't even blink.
"Not completely but… I did love him… enough that I was compromising the mission." Emma took a deep breath, like she was preparing for some momentous feat and he could hear the emotion seeping back into her voice, "So, I pulled the entire thing down on top of our heads. On the day it all happened I helped take down his mansion – I helped take Neal down and then Char– his brother tried to shoot us. I had to shoot him…"
He knew how the story would end before she even said it, purely by the trembling of her bottom lip as she finally pulled her eyes away from the ceiling to look at him, "Turned out I hit a major artery… he was sixteen."
"Emma –"
She looked back up at the ceiling, tears mounting until one finally slid out of the corner of her eyes, her voice shaky when she cut off his soft voice, "And I got out before the mission was complete – I couldn't stay. And Neal was given to Korean forces. And he hates me… and I don't blame him."
Killian watched her for an undefinable amount of time.
A broken bird.
It was all he could think of as he looked at her, and he had the most intense urge to heal – to pour cement into the cracks and stitch up her heart. Seeing her so hurt, so bloody damaged, he had to quell the sudden storm that swept through his chest. Because Neal had done this – Neal had made her like this…
"…So he wants to hurt you," Killian clarified in a calm but ominous voice, the only words he could truly manage at that point.
Emma didn't notice his tone, or the expression on his face that promised murder, "Yes."
She met his eyes, voice coming out low and earnest as she assured, "We were going to bring him in, Killian. Graham and I were working together – that's where I've been for the past three weeks… we were going to find him and take him to the authorities. But… but he killed him, he shot Graham in front of me… He died in my arms."
Killian's teeth ground together, fists clenching as a memory of a too similar experience came to mind. He loathed the idea that she'd suffered through anything remotely close, focusing on the sound of her voice as he closed his eyes and frowned deeply. Emma mistook his expression for something else though, because her voice became more beseeching – like she was begging him to see it from her perspective. Little did she know just how deeply he could empathize at that point.
"And… and I just – I knew I couldn't just take Neal to the authorities because, with Graham dead, you – the team… you were all next, all on his hit-list… and he's never going to stop - so I was going to take him down. I have to take him down."
Killian nearly jumped when he felt her hand reach out to cover his clenched fist, his eyes opening and zoning in on her instantly. She was staring at him again, most of the redness dissipated, making room for determination as she said in a firm voice, "I have to take him down… I can't afford to compromise you."
He turned his palm over so he could grasp hers, "Emma…"
But the moment was abruptly broken when he felt his back pocket buzzing and, with a meaningful look levelled in his partner's direction, he stood up to extract the device, somewhat annoyed with the caller's timing. As he pulled it around to look at the screen, he saw who was calling and Emma must have noted his recognition before he could answer.
"Who is it?" she asked huskily.
"Ruby," Killian answered as he pressed the green button and raised the phone to his ear, pulling it back instantly when the loud, female voice burst through the receiver.
"What is happening? Did you get there in time? Is she okay? What is happening?"
"She's fine; we're at the Paix Helvezia now."
There was a deep sigh of relief on the other end before she asked, "Is she there?"
"Yes."
He could hear the obvious change in her tone, the deepening of it that indicated something significantly less bright, "Put me on speaker."
"Ruby –"
"Put me on speaker Killian or I swear to God, I'll hack your phone and do it myself." Killian chewed his lip and looked down to Emma, who somehow heard his silent request for permission and nodded gently. There was a moment of silence as he finally pressed the button, a click that was heard on both ends as the phone's speakers were enlisted for use.
When nothing happened, Emma's voice broke the silence, "Ruby?"
"Emma fucking Swan I am going to murder you!" the brunette's voice roared through the device, loud enough that both agents actually jumped, "What on God's green Earth were you thinking? I am so ridiculously angry right now, it's any wonder I don't have steam billowing out of my ears like a fucking freight train!"
He watched Emma scrub at her face and cut off the woman's voice in his hand, "Ruby –"
"I'm not done, Jones!"
He was about to intercede again when the blonde shook her head, wordlessly telling him to let Ruby go. So he did.
"You just leave up out of nowhere, no explanation, no good bye – nothing! Not only that, but you decide to go on a suicide mission! I would love to know what is going through what I'm now sure is that absolutely empty skull of yours! Do you have any idea how worried we were? This freaking idiot in front of you alone was basically unbearable and broke a guy's hand just now – and yeah, I just found out about that you moron, Killian! But that's beside the point - don't you dare ever do that again or so help me, Lord Almighty; I will shackle you to your office desk and throw away the key!"
Her words echoed in the small hotel room and Killian heard as the tech analyst took a deep, and probably calming, breath before her voice reappeared, quieter than before.
"Now, I'm going to put that away for now because holy shit I was worried about you!" Emma's solemn expression brightened marginally at that.
"First thing's first – are you okay?" Ruby asked earnestly.
"I – I'm fine, Ruby," the blonde replied, voice husky and soft enough that Killian wasn't sure the phone picked it up until there was a bright response from the receiver.
"Good. Where is your phone?"
"Back at the alley – Jones told me about the bug."
There was the sound of Ruby clapping her hands together, "Molto buono – or as my parents would say, very good! Did anyone see you two?"
Killian took the opportunity to answer her question, bringing the phone slightly closer to his mouth, "I don't think so. No one followed us either and I checked in under false names."
"That's great. By the way I called Regina and told her you left early because you felt ill and I've also texted David so nobody's having heart palpitations about you disappearing."
"Thank you Ruby."
"No problem, now you can come back –"
"There's been a change of plans," he interrupted firmly, and tried not to watch the expression on Emma's face morph. She pulled herself up from where she had been sitting on the bed, standing in front of him with a confused expression.
"What?" Ruby inquired, equally unsure.
"We're going to help her."
"What?" Emma's voice croaked in synchronization with Ruby's.
"Pardon?" the tech analyst queried again, and he could just imagine her blinking rapidly in an attempt to process his rather abrupt 180. Not long ago, his focus had been purely to get Emma away from here and prevent her from killing Neal. Now though, with infinitely more background knowledge and a shitload of his own personal vendettas mixed in… well, his position on the matter had changed.
"You don't have to help if you don't want to but I figured you'd want in – we're going to take Neal out," Killian explained, leaving no room for argument as he waited for a response from the receiver. He and Emma both heard as the other woman scoffed loudly, her voice coming through as incredulous and only a touch jovial.
"Fuck that – I want in. I wanted to take this dick down the second I heard about him. I'm just surprised is all, you were pretty adamant about -"
He cut her off again (any minute now and she would start scolding him for such flagrant rudeness), "Good, stand by – we'll call you when we've hashed out some details."
"Alrighty then," Ruby replied loudly, "I'll let you two get to it – don't kill each other while I'm gone."
Killian's finger was hovering over the 'end call' button when Emma's voice forced him to pause. She was staring at the phone as she hesitantly called, "Ruby?"
The brunette answered instantly, "Yeah?"
"I'm sorry."
There was a pause and another sigh before Ruby said meaningfully, "It's okay. I still love you – look after yourself okay? Ciao belle."
The call ended before he could press the button and he placed the device in his pocket again, foolishly attempting to procrastinate in favour of meeting Emma's questioning gaze. He really should have known better as she waited patiently for him to finish the menial task, her eyes never leaving him. Eventually, he forced himself to look up at her again, face impassive.
Emma's arms were folded across her chest as she asked, "So you're going to help me now?"
"Yes," he replied with a nod.
Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, "I thought you said revenge wasn't the answer."
Killian shrugged, "I changed my mind – so how about we start with everything you know about his schedule and we'll build from there?" He hated how intently she was watching him as he diverted the subject, knowing she wasn't at all fooled by his need not to elucidate on his sudden change of heart. A part of him was already preparing for the inevitable, when she would ask why.
But, for some unfathomable reason, she relented. Her arms dropped to her side, her face shifting into a determined expression as she nodded and began to pace, "Okay… Where do I start?"
8888
Twenty-four hours later, Killian and Emma were perched around the table of their hotel room. A map was laid out on the table, red marker scarring the surface in lines and circles and instructions. Killian's phone and Emma's disposable lay off to the side where they were easily accessible but not disruptive to their work.
They were waiting for a call from Ruby; she was trying to install a tracking bug into Neal's GPS – a difficult feat when all she had was the make, model and number plate of the vehicle. Combined with the fact that she was trying to balance it with her paid work and refrain from being caught. Well, neither of the agents could complain that her time frame was a little longer than usual.
Once they had his location under observation, they could move on to devising a plan that utilized that knowledge. They'd already brainstormed several possible plans; hence the map with the red marker all over it.
As he stared down at the blue and green splotches and yellow lines, he felt a strange tickling sensation at the back of his neck and quickly attributed it to the feeling of someone's eyes on him. Lifting his gaze, he saw that Emma was watching him, a war of emotions battling for supremacy on her face as she stared at him. Killian cocked his head to the side and frowned, still leaning over the table.
"What are you looking at?"
"Why did you change your mind?" she responded instantly and he was put marginally off-balance by the change in topic – and maybe, perhaps, by the way she was looking at him as she spoke.
He shook his head, "What do you mean?"
Emma stood up from the table, holding his gaze all the while, "You told me that revenge wasn't worth it when you first found out I wanted to take Neal out," she said, "You didn't want me to kill him… But, I mean… you changed your mind." Already, he felt the direction of her questions and he felt his jaw tense at the recognition. This was not the sort of topic to be mulled over right before a mission – especially one so fine-detail oriented.
He watched her for a long moment as she held his gaze evenly, never letting it drop – wordlessly letting him know that she wanted an answer. And, with a wide range of experience in the area of her obstinacy, he groaned inwardly.
Killian ran a hand through his hair and dropped his eyes momentarily to the map on the table, "I still don't want you to kill him out of revenge – but not because of legality," he explained honestly, keeping his tone neutral, "I don't want you to kill him because I didn't want you to have blood on your hands… You don't deserve that. There's a big difference between killing an un-sub and killing a man you used to love."
She appeared to falter at his words, muscles tensing when he referred to Neal under the intimate term. But it was a fleeting display of vulnerability, walled up quickly with an expression of confusion as she started to walk deliberately around the table towards him.
"And yet, you're helping me right now," she said, tilting her head down to fix him with a stern look, "This isn't a retrieval mission, Jones. This is a strike." Her voice was low and steely, a warning that she couldn't be swayed on that decision. Neal had to die.
Killian nodded once, "I know."
She was standing in front of him now and he watched her face morph into utter misunderstanding, shaking her head gently from side to side as she stared up at him. He hadn't actually answered her question properly yet and they both knew it – he didn't really know what he'd been hoping for with his earlier vague answer. But, he had to try.
The precipice they were standing over was a steep and unforgiving one.
She didn't seem to care though, never once letting go of his gaze as she re-iterated her question, "Well… why are you helping now?"
"Because your life is in danger," he responded.
"My life's in danger all the time at work."
"Not like this."
His teeth were grinding together now, jaw locking and unlocking as he tried to withhold what she was clearly intent on having spilled into the air. Her eyebrows rose incredulously as she proffered, "There's a different way to want someone dead?"
"What do you want me to say, Emma?" he snapped, his patience finally breaking. If she wanted all his cards on the table, then fine – she would have them, dunces and all. She jumped at his rapid descent into intensity, eyes burning into hers as he stood up and moved towards her, leaving them centimeters apart, "Neal wants to hurt you. I didn't change my mind because I suddenly agreed with you getting revenge by killing him. I still don't want that for you – I want to put a bullet in his head because he's dared to put your life in jeopardy." He spat the man's name like it was acid, his words clipped and precise – the truth of them hanging in the air around them like the electrical sparks left over from lightning.
Silence enveloped the room in the wake of his admission and he wondered whether she would step back, whether this revelation might cross the line between partners and something more intimate and unambiguously dangerous.
It suddenly occurred to him how close they were, the feel of her breath puffing out across his face sending waves of gooseflesh across his skin. His eyes dipped to her mouth without thought and when he focused himself enough to meet her gaze again, he was stunned to find hers intent on his mouth.
Emma's green eyes snapped onto his and he felt her lean marginally forward; her presence impossible to ignore as the distance between them decreased even nominally.
He didn't have time to register as she pulled him forward by the leather collar of his jacket, pressing her lips firmly to his.
Firecrackers exploded in his brain, a wall of white that dulled everything else in the world other than her lips on his. Killian allowed himself to lean into the kiss, reluctant to move drastically should he disrupt the brittle moment. So, he settled for cupping her face with one hand, the soft skin of her cheek smooth and warm against his rough palm.
After a long second, she began to pull away, her head leaning down so only their foreheads were connected, and he assumed it was the end of the exchange – still shell-shocked because it felt like breathing for the first time in years. Her hands were still fisted in his jacket and he mirrored her by tilting his head forward to look at the floor. But, as he took a shaky breath in, ready to drop his hand and step back, she brought her lips back up to claim his.
This time though, she was more insistent, her mouth moving gently against his, noiselessly begging him to reciprocate. So he did, his hand sliding from her cheek to cradle the back of her head, slanting his lips over hers with a fluidity that was foreign and familiar all at the same time.
It was slow at first, long and languid, an ease about it that suggested they were practiced partners. But it grew, like a slowly mounting fire, ebbing brighter and hotter with each cursory slant of their heads until an inferno threatened to erupt. She chased his lips almost greedily, the shift in balance threatening to topple him over so he stumbled and had to grip her waist so she didn't trip over him.
The jerky movement was like ice water being shot down their back and, as they regained their balance, they finally pulled back.
Breathless and buzzed, foreheads still touching, her hands still clenched in his jacket, Killian waited for something to happen – anything to happen. Waiting for the conclusion to this moment was more painful than what would surely come afterwards, the bitterness of reality crashing down on them like a ton of bricks. He kept his eyes shuttered closed, focusing on returning his breathing to normal rather than the stifling air around them, the feel of her hands on his shoulders, the smell of her floating around him, the taste of her still fresh on his lips.
She took a deep breath and he bit the inside of his mouth, knowing she was about to speak, and, unnervingly, flickering his eyes up to meet hers.
Her eyes flitted across his face, and he could swear she leaned forward slightly before her words brushed against his face, "We need to stay focused."
Killian nodded, finally dragging his hand from her back at the same time she let hers drop from his shoulders and shuffled backwards so there was some space between them.
"I agree," he conceded and he could see her chewing the inside of her mouth. A stifling silence encased the room, broken abruptly by the sound of his phone buzzing on the dresser beside him. Distantly, he heard a car pull up in the parking lot outside the hotel but didn't pay it any attention as he picked up the phone and pulled it to his ear.
8888
Ruby was watching the screen closely, her eyes fixed on the small rectangular box in the middle of the monitor, watching as it was slowly but surely filled with green. Her fingernails drummed a rapid beat against the wood of the desk and she felt her heart beating faster with every progression of the emerald bar. In a matter of moments, she would have a lock on Neal's GPS and, with that, Killian and Emma would be able to make significant headway in their planning.
It had taken longer than usual to procure, purely because she still had a job to do – smaller things while they finished up the case of the mole in the CIA, but nonetheless time consuming. Hacking the remote device would have taken a while anyway so she didn't feel too bad about taking an entire day to retrieve the sorely needed information. Regardless, she still felt anxious to just be done with it so they could finally kill the bastard.
She squealed in surprise as someone entered the room behind her, the door creaking unceremoniously on its hinges as she spun around. Victor's eyebrows were raised, a dubious expression on his face as he noted her surprise. Glaring at him, the brunette hissed, "Don't you ever knock?"
"This is my office, Rubz. What's had you so on edge todays?" he said, walking forward so he was standing directly in front of her.
Ruby sighed, "Nothing, nothing – I'm fine. I'm just – er, ready for this case to be finished."
"Yeah," he replied, suddenly uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, "I guess you're keen to get back to your office at the BAU."
She nodded fervently, "Oh my god, yes. I just want to be in my beautiful pretty cave with my bobble headed figurines and my fluffy pens!" Closing her eyes, Ruby could already imagine it, the familiar smell of her perfume that was now a permanent fixture in the small room, her stickers and posters that were completely against regulation, the comfort of her chair as it moulded familiarly to her ass. It was kind of amazing how suddenly relaxed she felt just thinking about it, how completely Victor could turn her mood around.
Fixing him with a grin, she felt it drop when she saw his disappointment and for a moment was completely blind to the source of it. Until, with a hand clapped over her mouth, she began to apologise profusely.
"Oh, sorry – I'm sorry; I didn't mean it like that. I liked working with you – I mean, working here. But also with you, obviously. I'm just homesick, is all," she remedied, sending him an imploring smile that instantly lightened his mood.
Victor shrugged and scratched the back of his neck, his eyes leaving hers to study the monitors behind her absent-mindedly, "It's okay. I was... uh, actually wondering if maybe you'd like to keep in touch after this. Maybe you could come here and check my firewalls are working properly… or something?"
Butterflies flapped their wings in the depths of Ruby's stomach, "That sounds… like a really great idea, Victor."
He glanced down at her and smiled before a frown tugged his eyebrows together and he cocked his head to the side, pointing at the screens behind the tech analyst, "Hey, what's that there?" She turned around, eyes shooting to where he was pointing.
Shit.
The GPS track of Neal was finished and she'd forgotten to minimise it when he came in.
"Um…" Ruby mumbled, about to pull it down and concoct a lame excuse when he spoke again, a chuckle springing about in his voice.
"Why are you following a car that's staying at crappy hotels like the Paix Helvezia?"
"What?"
The brunette tapped at the keyboard so she could more clearly see Neal's location according to the GPS in his sedan, brown eyes searching the screen for Victor's observation. She heard as he settled into the seat beside her and rolled it so he too could show her, finger pointing to the little title above the blinking red dot that represented Neal's convoy. The words leapt out at her the second she read them, and her heart dropped through her chest onto the floor, thumping beneath her feet: Paix Helvezia.
Oh god…
"What is happening? Did you get there in time? Is she okay? What is happening?" her own voice echoed in her head, the memory swarming her brain as she remembered the same panic that had saturated her while she waited for him to answer. It was rising up in her now as she recalled his response.
"She's fine; we're at the Paix Helvezia now."
Oh shit, oh god…
Ruby's heart shrivelled to the size of a grape as she stared at the screen for a millisecond longer, Victor's concerned voice falling into the background as she scrambled about for her phone. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she punched in Killian's number, tears of anxiety pooling behind her eyes as she waited for him to pick up.
Victor was staring at her, his eyes boring into her face as he begged her to tell him what was going on. But she couldn't spare a thought, especially when she finally heard the click that signalled Killian picking up the phone. His voice came through strangely husky as he answered.
"Hey Ru–"
"Killian, you and Emma need to get out of there now!"
"What's wrong?" She could hear the frown in his voice, no doubt a result of the way hers cracked with terror.
"Neal is there, he's at the Paix Helvezia! You need to go now!" she replied frantically, blood thrumming in her ears so she almost didn't hear him say to Emma, 'We need to go.'
However, before he could answer her, say good bye, say anything, there was a thunderous crash that sounded like a door being broken in. Ruby cried out in shock as the sound of a struggle played out over the phone, the muffled sounds of a fight and furniture breaking coming through the receiver.
It all lasted several seconds until abruptly the line went dead.
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