Look, I'm really, really sorry about the delay. And I know you don't want excuses, but I've been dealing with a lot lately, and I'm working two jobs, and this story is causing problems on top of that. But I wouldn't let myself sleep until this was finished, so here it is. I'm not sure I like it, but the chapter's finally done.

I apologize for any typos, but it's almost seven in the morning, and I haven't slept. Also, there aren't any appearances by Marlow or Kim this time around – someone said they missed the FBI last chapter, and I meant to include them this time…but it didn't work out like that. By the time I finished the last section, I knew I wouldn't be able to write the scenes the way I wanted to, so I pushed them back. Sorry.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS – I do not own 'Traveler,' or any of the characters, nor do I own any lyrics, quotes, etc. used in this story. This is rated Teen, for blood, violence, and especially in this chapter, very strong language. This is set after 8th episode ('The Exchange') so all spoilers are fair game. Also, all characters are liable to injury or even death, because when I write things usually get messy. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Begin Again

Chapter Five

"I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you."

Friedrich Nietzsche

Peoria, Illinois – heart of the Midwestern stereotype and current location of three very wanted fugitives.

At the moment, Will, Jay, and Tyler were parked outside the Busey Bank – in another six minutes, a teller would come and unlock the front doors. A tense silence had settled over the trio, until Tyler finally spoke up.

"What if this guy's already picked it up?" he wanted to know. "What do we do then?"

"The bank hasn't even opened yet," Jay reminded him. The clock ticked one minute closer even as he spoke.

"But what if he came in last night?" Tyler protested.

"That'd be too obvious," Will pointed out. "There's no way it'd be dropped off and picked up on the same day."

Actually, Will doubted there'd even be anyone here to pick it up this morning. And if they couldn't find a way into the box on their own, they'd be staking this place out indefinitely.

Maybe Jay was thinking along the same lines, because he'd caught his glance, a worried frown playing at the corners of his lips.

"Do you know how to get in?" he asked. Clearly he was still skeptical – that was because he hadn't seen what Will had just spotted out in the parking lot. Or, more specifically, who Will had spotted in the parking lot.

"I do," Will replied. He watched as the figure crossed the lot up to the front door.

"You do?" Tyler asked.

Will turned to glance into the back seat. "You still think someone's already picked up the envelope?" he asked. He nodded his head at the window. "She's from Hometown."

Now Tyler and Jay both craned their necks to catch sight of the woman letting herself into the bank – leggy and tan, with blonde hair cropped short to frame her face.

"Her?" Tyler raised his eyebrows.

The woman disappeared into the building.

"Now what?" Jay asked. "Swipe it before she leaves?"

"I've got a plan," Will promised.

"And you didn't before?" Tyler asked incredulously.

Will ignored the statement. "You won't like it," he added.

"Try us," Jay told him.

He did.

They didn't like it.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Delia Kincaid figured she was set. She had a sweet gig as a secretary for a respected (and very rich) CEO, a posh, upscale office, a classy apartment, and a sleek convertible.

Sure, her boss expected her to fuck him at least twice a week, right there on his desk, but it wasn't really a big deal.

Especially since, as an ex-prostitute, she was used to that sort of thing.

She'd thought it was the end of the line back then – one too many run ins with the law, and this was it. Her days as a call girl – hell, as a free woman (not that she'd really been free in the first place) were over.

Then he'd shown up.

She'd asked who he was. He'd told her to just shut the hell up and listen. He'd said that he worked with a group of people working very hard to protect America.

Fuck America, she'd told him. She'd fucked just about everyone else.

That's when he'd smiled and said she was exactly what they'd been looking for.

They needed someone to keep a close eye on a certain businessman. And by close, they meant close.She took a position as his secretary, and she'd been there ever since.

It was her job to keep tabs on him, monitoring his every move, recording everything that went on behind closed doors.

And then, about a year ago, they started sending envelopes – she'd drive out to Peoria once a month and pick it up from a safety deposit box. She just did her job, and did her best not to think to hard about it all. Because the deeper she found herself in this shit, the more she doubted they were really trying to protect the home of the brave.

So every month she found herself marching into the Busey Bank in Peoria – and today was the day. She'd slipped inside just as the doors had opened, spoken to a manager (who'd spent most of the conversation ogling her ample chest), and grabbed the envelope in under five minutes.

But just as her sexy little Lexus came into view, Delia felt the tip of a knife poke into her back.

The parking lot was empty – aside from this new presence, she was alone.

"Hello, Will," she murmured, her voice a purr. "They told me you might come."

Although they'd only met once, and briefly, Delia had heard a thing or two about Will Traveler – she'd knew that he was a loose cannon, and not at all opposed to cold blooded murder. Fortunately, she also been informed that he needed her, and as long as things stayed that way, she'd stay alive.

Then again, if things went south, she was expected to do something she'd just as soon avoid. But orders were orders, and for now, she'd just have to play it by ear.

Will didn't speak – he simply placed his free hand on her shoulder and guided her towards a station wagon, with two men waiting inside.

"How's your girlfriend?" Delia asked slyly. "Oh, wait…"

She came to a halt as the knife burrowed deeper into her skin, biting into her flesh. She stifled a gasp.

"I could scream," she whispered, a hitch in her breath.

"You'd be dead before you hit the ground," Will shot back.

He wasn't the sort of guy you fucked around with – and Delia knew a thing or two about fucking.

"I guess we'd better keep moving, then," she said quietly.

Will shoved her forward, none too gently. He opened the back door and pushed her in before following her inside himself.

Delia settled herself in the seat, adjusting the hem of her short, black dress. She glanced up to find the eyes of the two men up front watching her in the rearview mirror.

"Hey, aren't you the guys that blew up that museum?" Delia asked, smiling coyly.

Before either could respond, Will reached across her and into the purse resting at her hip. He pulled out the envelope and opened it swiftly, reading and rereading the paper inside. He held it up, and for the first time Delia read the neatly typed print.

En masse.

"What is this?" Will demanded.

"I've got no idea," Delia replied airily.

An instant later Will had her wrist in his grasp, and he twisted her arm painfully. A strangled scream escaped her lips and she tried to jerk away, but it was useless.

The man in the front passenger seat was frowning. "Will," he said uncertainly.

"We've talked about this, Jay," Will replied evenly. He glanced out the window, making sure the parking lot was clear – that no one had heard Delia cry out. "Tyler, drive," he said finally.

With a nod, Tyler pulled out of the parking space and they were gone, leaving the bank behind.

"Let me go," Delia ground out.

"Not until you talk." If possible, Will tightened his grip. If he pulled her arm back any further, the bone would snap and splinter and –

"Alright," she hissed. "I tell you, just – just let go."

The last part was a desperate whisper.

Finally, Will released her hold on her wrist – but he held up the knife, his eyes warning her not to try anything. Not that she could do much – she was in car with three men, speeding towards the city limits.

"What is this?" Will asked again, motioning to the envelope.

"It's a code," Delia explained. She massaged her forearm carefully, flexing her fingers as feeling returned. "It says we're going ahead with the plan."

"Plan?" Tyler repeated.

Delia glanced up to him, then back to Will. "They've got me working for Harper Enterprises out in Topeka," she told them. "Secretary for the CEO – I've been watching him for almost four years, with no directive – until this."

She gestured to the envelope on the seat.

"Keep talking," Will warned her. "What's the directive?"

Delia shook her head swiftly. "I can't tell you that."

She knew it was coming, but she couldn't stifle the gasp of pain that escaped when Will grabbed her arm again, twisting it back and pulling her close. The knife found its way to her throat, pressing into her skin.

"What's the directive?"

From the corner of her eye, Delia saw Jay turn around in his seat. He opened his mouth to protest, but Will shot him a look that silenced him immediately.

"You've got one more chance," Will told her. He meant it.

"I can't…" She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Look, you can't stop this. Even if you kill me, it's still going to happen."

"What's going to happen?" Will demanded. The knife never left her throat.

There was no alternative. She'd said what she needed to say – there was no point in carrying on this way any longer. She managed to slip her free hand into her purse, and her fingers wrapped around an object inside.

"Sorry, Will," she whispered.

His eyes widened in realization a second before it happened, but it was too late. Delia pulled the syringe from her purse and slid the needle into her own neck. She gasped as the toxin burned fire and ice through her veins – spasms wracked her body as darkness closed in around her, and everything faded away.

ooooooooooooooooooo

He should have seen it coming – he should have known something like this would happen.

For a few moments Delia twitched awkwardly, until finally she fell still. Will reached across and felt for a pulse at her neck.

Nothing. She was gone.

"Dammit."

"Will?" Jay was looking back, eyes wide with worry.

"What's going on?" Tyler demanded, eyes still on the road.

"She's dead," Will said grimly.

"What?" Tyler almost turned around in his seat.

"Keep driving," Will ordered, his voice harsh.

"What the hell just happened, Will?" Jay asked. He cast a quick glance to Delia's still form, then trained his gaze on Will, who was reaching for her hand.

In her palm he found the syringe, now empty. Blood still dotted the tip.

"Probably sodium thiopental," Will said, half to himself. "It's what they use for the lethal injection," he added when Tyler opened his mouth to ask. "It'd take a high dose to kill her that fast."

"What now?" Jay asked quietly.

Will frowned. "We hide the body."

Tyler barked out a harsh laugh. "We are so fucked."

TBC

Like I said, this chapter isn't exactly what I wanted, but at least it's done. I'm starting my first semester of college in two weeks, and I'm working pretty much all the time – from now on, the most I'll be able to update is once a week. I'll try really, really hard to make sure the wait's not longer than that.

Fun fact…I had 'Traveler' episodes running on my computer while I wrote this chapter…and it took me the span of all 8 episodes to finish.

Please review!

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