Title: A Case of Déjà-vu

Chapter title: Letter to a Friend

Summary: Brandt's worst nightmare comes to life as he is forced to relive his demons when a kidnapping turns into a protection detail … and this time he is determined not to fail, no matter the cost.

Author's note: So this is the last chapter! And before we start I would like to thank Grey Panther, Anise Nadiah, SPN4eva556, Guest and Acrylate for reviewing chapter 7.

And to all of you that have reviewed on the other chapters, added the story or me to their faves, or followed … I would like to thank you all for the support! As a writer that means worlds, so thank you for that and you guys absolutely rock! I love you ;)

I guess there isn't anything else to say other than: Enjoy this final chapter!

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything … Sucks, but true.

"For a man to conquer himself is the first and noblest of all victories."

The fluorescent lights that hung in the ceiling above him had been toned down in the room, but that didn't stop them from hurting Brandt's sensitive orbs anyway. He squinted his eyes slightly at the bright white light and tried to blink away the haze that seemed to have settled over them. He looked away from the blinding ceiling and across the hospital room.

Ethan's blurred features slowly came into focus; a small, relieved smile spreading across his lips. There was no one else in the room.

"Welcome back, Brandt."

Brandt opened his mouth to speak, but he found that no words came out. Instead, he could utter a small pathetic squeaking sound which made his parched throat protest painfully. Ethan handed him a cup of water, which Brandt accepted gratefully. The cool, clear liquid did wonders as it ran down his aching throat. He cleared it a few times before trying to speak again.

"How long have I been out?" His voice was raw and hoarse.

"A few days."

"Claire okay?" Brandt hesitated to ask. He wasn't sure if he could handle knowing the answer.

But Ethan quickly smiled at him reassuringly. "She's fine. They are only keeping her here for observation," he quickly clarified.

The analyst released the breath he had been holding in relief. She's safe. He wasn't sure what he would have done, if she hadn't lived. He knew he would have probably walked out of the IMF forever. The chances of another protection detail were high and, though he had done them successfully in the past before, he knew he couldn't go through with another one. The demons of the past would forever loom over his head, ready to strike at the worst possible time. Not only would he endanger himself and the asset, he would also endanger his teammates and that was something he absolutely couldn't live with.

Hunt observed his teammate intently. The tired features and the battle that seemed to roam inside the analyst's mind. He took it all in.

"This one got to you," he finally concluded out loud.

The sentence snapped Brandt out of his train of thought and his eyes quickly found Ethan's. They held his gaze for a moment, but then Brandt quickly looked away and on to the floor, deciding what his response should be. In the end, he settled for a simple one.

"Yeah."

Just like Ethan had suspected, the analyst had in fact been through a personal nightmare and to him, it didn't look like it was over quite yet. But he had promised both Brandt and himself that he would get him through this. It was his job as leader of this team.

"This is about Croatia, isn't it?"

A flash of guilt crossed Brandt's face and he swallowed a single time. "The minute I saw that girl I was taken back to that day. Suddenly, I was in Croatia again and all I saw was your dead wife."

"I thought you had left that behind, Brandt."

"I have carried the guilt of your wife's death for years. I have felt like the horrible responsible for putting you in prison. Because of that, I resigned from active duty! You think I can just let that go after a single conversation?" Brandt angrily replied.

"Then why did you pick up that phone?" Ethan countered. "You could have just continued walking away, if it was a problem."

"Maybe I should have! But you seemed hell-bent on having me on your team and I don't understand why." The question he didn't speak was evident in his eyes.

"We went through so much during the Ghost Protocol," Ethan sighed. "We worked as a team and we succeeded, against all odds. We function together, Brandt, and we need you just as much as you need us."

Brandt contemplated the answer for a moment before he shoot back one of his own. "I thought about that too. And at first, I believed it just as much as you do." He sighed deeply. "I'd never given it much thought. I think because it all happened so quickly and by the time it was over, I found myself back on a team. I was back in the field … accepting missions … doing the job I signed on for. I didn't question it and I really didn't look back."

"Until this mission?" Ethan guessed.

"Until this mission," Brandt confirmed.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"And say what? The minute I saw Claire sitting alone and scared in that room I knew I couldn't go back. By then, it was already too late."

"Brandt, you can't keep beating yourself up over this," Ethan wanted nothing more than for the man before him to see the truth. "The Secretary kept you even though you resigned from active duty. There aren't many people who get that opportunity. I certainly don't think any less of you, I never did."

"Then let me ask you this: if Julia had actually died? If she was gone from this world, would you have forgiven me?"

Ethan sat back, stunned at Brandt's words. He had not given that much thought. He thought everyday about her and of how close he had come to lose her and how devastated he would be if she no longer would be in his life, however little that was now. But he had never thought about what would have happened if her staged death had actually been real. He had no idea what he would have done, especially with lead agent William Brandt.

"No, you wouldn't," the analyst continued. "You would have tracked me down and hurt me in every way you had been, because it is only fair. And if you didn't, you would never have talked to me and you certainly wouldn't have put me on your team."

Ethan finally recovered from the initial shock of Brandt using Julia against him. "You can't speculate in what could have been. She isn't dead … She is alive and she is safe."

Brandt eyed the team leader before him and then smiled and shook his head like an idea so ridiculous had popped up in his head.

"This is what I am talking about. You forgave me in the blink of an eye and in that moment that was enough for me. But now I've realized who the person I seek forgiveness from is." He looked up at Ethan again, his face serious and filled with pain. "Me. And I can't give it."

"Brandt, you can't think that …"

"And you shouldn't forgive me either. Not that easily." The last sentence came out barely above a whisper. All the talking and the emotional turmoil had begun to take a toll of Brandt's energy. His eyes were heavy and his brain became more muddled with every passing second.

Ethan noticed it before Brandt even did and when he saw the dropping eyelids, he smiled sadly. He gently placed a hand on Brandt's shoulder. "Get some sleep, Brandt."

Even if he wanted to argue, Brandt didn't have to energy or the time. He quickly felt his eyes close and soon he fell into a slumber.

Hunt watched his agent fall asleep and then buried his head in his hands for a moment, overcome himself by the emotional drain. He stood up and took a quick glance on the pale, sleeping agent in the hospital bed before he turned to the door.

He only got four steps, when he stopped short. In the doorway, Benji and Jane were standing, both with a steaming Styrofoam cup in their hands. Their faces were questioning and somber. There is no telling how much of the conversation they had heard.

But Ethan does not begin to explain or offer up any words. Instead he just walks by with determined steps and down the white hall of the hospital.

He needed time to think. What started as an offer of help and consolation somehow evolved into a fight with no real winner.

Ethan was pacing around in the hallway a whole floor from Brandt's room, making sure he wouldn't bump into anyone from his team. The analyst had asked a single question that had blown his head away.

If Julia had actually died? If she was gone from this world, would you have forgiven me?

Ethan could barely bear the thought of actually losing Julia forever. He had nearly done so years ago and that almost-pain was bad enough. He didn't need the real one in his heart.

Deep down, he knew he probably couldn't forgive Brandt if the worst case scenario had come true. Merely the thought of having the same man responsible for Julia's death anywhere near him or his team would be enough for him to want to vomit out of disgust.

And that was the exact same conclusion Brandt had reached out there in the field. And if Ethan couldn't even think about forgiving him, why should he forgive himself? Why should he let himself go and take the easy way out when it all rested on his shoulders?

But if Ethan knew that would be Brandt's genuine feelings, he suspected he might cut him some slack. Julia had always been and would always be his responsibility, no matter how much he would try to deny it.

Ethan stopped short in his tracks as he realized where his train of thought had headed.

He would, eventually, forgive Brandt for a mistake that wasn't even his. It would be a mistake no one made. Far down the road, Ethan would learn to let it go. He would have learned that the whole world doesn't rest on his shoulders, even though he had always made it his job to think so. It didn't rest on Brandt's shoulders either. The analyst and the team leader had a commonality there; they both took upon themselves to save everybody and to harden and crumple when they failed.

He just needed Brandt to see that failure would always be a part of their lives and that it was okay to offer yourself forgiveness every once in a while.

Ethan had had a hard time adjusting when the IMF staged Julia's murder. He had a hard time forgiving himself for the fact that he brought her into the danger zone in the first place. But as time passed by, he learned to deal with it. He had watched her a few times after she had settled in. She had been happy and protected.

And if the price for her safety was for him to stay away, then he could accept that. If the most he got was a knowing and flirtatious smile from afar in exchange for her long life, then who was he to complain?

He had forgiven himself for it and he would teach Brandt how to do so too.

When Ethan arrived with the elevator at the floor Brandt's room was on again, he felt his phone vibrate softly in the back pocket of his jeans.

He took it out and read the text message that filled the centre of the screen, smirking lightly as he read Benji's text.

Figured you two ladies needed privacy, so headed home for quick shower and nap.

Ethan couldn't help but feel a small relief, since Benji would only be joking with this if things weren't completely dire. Of course, it was possible that Brandt had simply brushed them off or lied when they undoubtedly had asked after Ethan stormed out of the room.

But with the hurt and guilt Brandt had showed, he doubted the analyst could have covered that up so quickly.

No matter the reason, he was glad that there would be no one to bother them when he tried to patch things up.

Ethan quickly rethought that sentence when he looked through the large glass window when he reached Brandt's room.

A smile tugged at his lips when he had peeked through just in time to see Claire McGregor stand on the tip of her toes and place a gentle kiss on Brandt's cheek. Then she started to exit the room, towards her father who was waiting patiently in the doorway. Just as she reached the doorway, she turned and waved her goodbyes for the last time. Brandt was smiling kindly at her and waved back, trying to match her eagerness.

Then Claire stalked out of the room. She placed her small hand in her father's and smiled happily up at him. As they walked down the hall, she suddenly whipped around and looked at Ethan, who was starting to head into the room. They locked eyes and she smiled her big toothless grin and quickly waved at him too. He smirked and lifted his hand to say goodbye.

Then Claire and Senator McGregor began walking towards the exit of the hospital, Claire talking unconcerned to her father like nothing had happened.

Ethan found that Brandt had laid back into the pillows again, looking slightly exhausted, though he looked better than when he first woke up. Some of the color had returned to his face.

The team leader didn't enter completely; instead he leaned casually against the doorway frame and crossed his arms. He waited to speak until Brandt looked him in the eyes.

"She's taking everything very well," he simply started.

"Her father said she had had a few nightmares, but it is a small price to pay, all things considered," Brandt flatly answered.

A sort of uncomfortable silence followed and for a few minutes none of the two men bothered to be the first one to speak. It was Ethan's voice who finally broke the silence.

"You were right," he stated, almost hating himself for saying it, because he knew that if he didn't play it right, Brandt would never learn to let himself of the hook. At the analyst's questioning stare, he clarified. "About Julia. If it hadn't been a cover-up and if she was truly dead, I probably wouldn't have forgiven you. I would have resigned and hunted down every person involved in her death."

Brandt's eyes fell to the floor and Ethan could clearly see the wheels beginning to turn. He just needed him to see.

"Brandt," he said and waited patiently the moment it took for his agent's tired grey orbs to focus on him. "That didn't happen. And now, hopefully, it can never happen. You can't keep beating yourself up over what-ifs."

Out of all the answers, Ethan had predicted coming, he did not see the one Brandt actually voiced.

"I know."

"You know?" Hunt's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He hadn't really thought of an answer for that response.

Brandt sighed before he started to clarify. "Seeing Claire unhurt and safe was something of an eye-opener to me. All of the sudden I understood. I may never forgive myself for what happened, but I can defiantly learn to live with it."

"So the next time a protection detail comes through our door?"

"I keep my eyes open so none of you super-agents miss anything," Brandt smiled honestly for what seemed like the first time since the mission began.

"That's good to know," Ethan smiled back. He cleared his throat before he asked a question that had been nagging in the back of his mind. Now that the heavier turmoil was out of the way, he could address it now. "Why did you come back? After you walked out that safe house, you could have just stayed away, but you didn't. You returned."

Brandt's eyes fell to the floor and he seemed to contemplate his answer very seriously. It was almost like he didn't know or if he simply hadn't thought anymore about it. A few moments of silence followed and in those small seconds the only thing audible was the heart monitor. Then: "You said that it was your job to protect Julia."

Ethan nodded in confirmation. "It is."

"By the time we had rescued Claire," Brandt sighed heavily. "I realized that the job of protecting her had become mine … at least for a while."

The team leader couldn't help but smile at the logic. He couldn't argue with it. How could he? He had seen it the exact same way with Julia, only that job hadn't stopped yet. It was his own logic and to others, it might not make sense, but to the two IMF agents, it described exactly how they saw it. And that was just another thing they shared.

"Can we make a deal though?" Brandt said, his gaze serious.

"Anything," Ethan assured.

Then a smile broke out across Brandt's lips and a sort of mischievous spark glinted in his eyes. "Next time, we get Benji to do all the hard work."

Ethan couldn't stop the small laughter that erupted from his throat. He nodded his head approvingly.

"Deal."

The end

And that is all for now, folks! Drop a review on what you thought, not just on this final conclusion but also on the story in general. What was bad, good, weird … I'll take anything. After all, how can I become a better writer if no one points out the mistakes?

Anyways … I love you guys!

Crimescenelover out.