Present Day

John pushed the plate away, standing to take the suit coat Talbot handed him. "How's Jack doing now that he's back in school?"

"Why?" Talbot pulled at the shoulder of John's jacket before leading the way through the dining room toward the front door.

"Because he's integral to this plan."

"I didn't think he was on your list."

"He's not." John accepted the coat from the butler at the door, "Thank you Carson, no scarf today."

"It is chill this morning sir."

"It'll be fine. I'm only leaving for a lunch meeting and I'm spending more time in the car then in the open." John turned back to Talbot, "He's already sold us the controlling share in his father's company and now we just wait to squeeze Green with it."

"How so?"

"What could hurt a father worse than making his son your creature?" John winked at Talbot, going through the front door and down the steps.

"John," Talbot took the stairs as quickly as he could to keep pace. "I do have to wonder if maybe you've spent too much time mulling this over in your head that you don't actually hear yourself."

"How so?" John climbed into the car, Talbot following him. "What's there to explain?"

"Not explain, John, just understand." Talbot held up his hands, "These are people's lives we're talking about. What happens to them'll affect hundreds, thousands of people even."

"And now you're getting cold feet?"

"Before you had Mrs. Crawley come through our door and give you that information on Green you were fine spinning your theories in the corner. But now, with the balls in motion, you're feeling a little unhinged." Talbot rolled his shoulders back, "If we're being honest here."

"I never expected anything less from you Henry." John sighed, taping the door under the window before shifting to face Talbot. "But it's what I've been building toward for fifteen years Henry. This is my revenge."

"It's more than that John." Talbot shook his head, "Revenge is buying out his company or actually using any of your research to land his ass in prison. What you're doing is total annihilation."

"Serves them all right."

"No, it doesn't John."

"It's what they deserve, Henry." John barked and noted how Talbot shuddered a moment. He heaved a sigh, lowering his tone. "It's what they did to me."

"What if it's not about deserve, John?"

"You mean forgive them for destroying my life?" John waved a hand, "Forgive my old friend for scooping up the woman I was going to marry? Forgive the QBs who threw the book at me even though I innocent? Forgive the man who destroyed my life for nothing more than a nod of appreciation from the same friend who once swore blue he'd defend me to the end of his days before stabbing me in the back?"

"It sounds bad when you say it that way."

"No, it sounds about right." John settled back, adjusting his tie in his jacket. "It's the way things have to be."

"But what about your soul, John? What happens to you when the anger and rage and revenge burn their way through you, when the ashes of their lives flutter around you? What then?" Talbot waited but John did not respond. "Will you be happy then?"

"I'll worry about that when the time comes."

"Right." Talbot rolled his eyes, "We've had this conversation before."

"Then why keep having it Henry?"

"I guess I hoped your responses would change."

"They haven't."

"I noticed." Talbot looked out his window, "Oh how I've noticed."

Ten Years Ago

John settled into the seat, shifting to stretch his leg as the muscle twitched. He massaged it, sighing as the shooting pains eased slightly. Someone next to him coughed and John smiled at the man who took the seat in first class next to him.

"Still give you trouble?"

"Since the physical therapy was only looking to get me walking again and not actually fully functional it acts up on occasion."

"You mean you haven't used your scandalously large fortune to get yourself a titanium leg or something?" Talbot snorted, "Imagine you as a cyborg, with a leg hissing and thunking all over the ground as you walked."

"With your fortune I'm surprised you didn't set up shop in the mountains somewhere with a lair to rival a James Bond villain." John waved off the woman offering them drinks but Talbot reached over for one of the champagne glasses. "What have you been doing since you got out?"

"Well," Talbot swallowed his sip, "Just as promised. Half of what I've got is yours now so plan how you want to spend a filthy large fortune."

"I've already got ten million from the government when they admitted their mistake." John shrugged, "I don't really want things that money buys."

"Then you need to dream a little bigger darling since money buys everything." Talbot opened his arms, "Like this plane, for instance."

"What?"

"I bought the airline." Talbot raised his glass, "I thought it was a good investment and so did my accountant."

"Given him a heart attack yet?"

"It's a her and no," Talbot set his glass down, leaving a bit of bubbling liquid near the bottom. "She tells me that my decisions've actually been pretty sensible and she applauds the fact that she doesn't have to rein me in with my money."

"Not like you're at risk of dying poor now."

"Don't be jealous, it doesn't suit you." Talbot finished his drink and handed it to another stewardess. "And no, I'm not. But, then again, neither are you."

"I'm going to guess you've got plans for your ridiculous fortune?"

"In a way." Talbot tapped his fingers together, "Have you heard of a man named Robert Crawley?"

John turned in his seat, "How do you know him?"

"He found me when I got out." Talbot shrugged, "I was cornered by this lawyer with an obnoxious mustache and then practically dragged to an office. For a moment I was afraid they found out where I hid the money but then I realized the building was too nice to be government."

"And?"

"He questioned me about you."

"What did you tell him?"

"That's the thing I didn't have to tell him anything really. He knew it all." Talbot shook his head, "He knew more about your life than I did and we shared a cell for a year."

"I'm a very private person."

"You don't need to tell me." Talbot huffed. "Anyway, he only wanted me to help him get the final details he needed about you before he proposed a plan that I accepted wholeheartedly."

"Which was what, exactly?"

Talbot lowered his voice, leaning over toward John. "He wanted me to take your half of my ill-gotten gains and invest it in a scheme to bring a new John Bates to life."

"He said something about helping me make myself a different man."

"He told me the same."

John noted Talbot's face, "What?"

"It's…" Talbot chewed his next words a moment. "The way he talked it was like he needed to resurrect you from the dead."

"Prison is like death."

"No, not a social death but real death." Talbot shrugged, "I don't know. I thought it was odd when I couldn't find any trace of your existence once I got out."

"How'd you mean?"

"I went looking for those people you wanted to track down. You know, your murder board."

John sighed, "It wasn't a murder board."

"I know. But they are the receivers of your revenge yeah?" John nodded, "See, murder board. It doesn't have to be actual murder. It could be metaphoric."

"Whatever." John pulled at the collar of his sweatshirt. "The world's gone and changed without me Henry."

"I know." Talbot nodded, "It changes despite all of us."

"She's got a son." John's voice was almost so low Talbot could not hear it but he worked it out. "I saw them playing in Trafalgar Square this morning."

"He look like her?"

John shook his head, forcing his eyes closed for a moment to see the blonde woman again in aching detail before he opened his eyes to look at the unwelcoming beige of the airplane wall before him. "He looks like his father."

"Dominant genes then?"

"I suppose. I never was one for biology in school." John buckled his belt as the loading passengers died down slightly and the doors to the plane closed. "She's moved on and I need to as well."

"I'm sure she misses you too John."

"She never visited me in prison Henry. Not once." John scoffed, suppressing the urge to spit. "The moment I was out of sight I was out of mind."

"That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" John rolled his shoulders back into the seat, "She moved on and now I will too."

"Then you want to come and start a new life of leisure with me in Venice?"

"No." John rubbed over his scarred hands. "We're going to Venice to get my money and then we're going back to London."

"London?"

John turned to Henry. "I'm making the new John Bates. What better place to do that then in the primordial ooze where the last one formed and died?"

Present Day

John adjusted the papers on his desk and stood as two people entered the office. He smiled at them, gesturing to the leather couches before taking the one across the coffee table from them. The duo sat, both relaxing a bit more into the leather than one normally did in a meeting, and John opened his arms toward them.

"You've no idea how honored I am that I could get time with the two of you."

"It's not often an international businessman wants to conduct his business with us Mr. Christian." The woman sat up a little straighter, "But we deal in criminal law, primarily, not in corporate legal proceedings."

"I understand, Ms. O'Brien, and I wouldn't want to suggest anything to put you out of your comfort zone. Not at all." John cleared his throat, "I'm actually here on a matter of potentially criminal implications but I need a more rigorous interpretation of the law, if that's agreeable?"

"Don't you have lawyers in this obnoxiously large building, Mr. Christian?" The man drawled out of the corner of his mouth, resting his arm over the back of the couch before resting his mouth in a disapproving frown.

"I do, Mr. Barrow, but they're not as helpful as you could be to me in this. They specialize in patent law, business contracts, and human resource disputes. They've not got the experience of the Queen's Bench and that's what I need. People with real experience."

"Is this a job offer, Mr. Christian?" O'Brien perked up and even Barrow took a greater interest.

John worked his jaw, measuring their reactions to what he hoped appeared like a man trying to hide his true intentions. "I wouldn't say that… necessarily."

"What would you say… necessarily?" Barrow prompted and John moved forward on his couch to speak, voice lowered for theatric effect.

"I would say that I need two people who know the law well enough to bend around it. To mold it a bit to shape a more promising future." John paused, then waved them off to stand. "But I would probably need to look elsewhere since you two seem far too honorable to work in that fashion and I'm insulting you with just this suggestion. I'm so sorry."

He went to the door when Barrow called to him. "Mr. Christian?" John bit back his smile as he turned to the standing O'Brien and Barrow. "We're the people you need for this."

"Good." John returned to them, "Then let's begin."

Fifteen Years Ago

John grunted, trying to move his bloodied leg to a more comfortable position on the hospital bed but the handcuffs keeping his wrists to the bed restricted his range of motion. A shift sent pain shooting up his leg and he cried out. The officer at the door entered, hand on his baton, and John turned to him.

"Please, could you tell me why I'm here?" The officer scoffed, leaving the room as John hollered after him. "I don't know what's going on. Please tell me!"

He threw his head back on the pillow, almost biting through his cheek in pain. The door opened again and he sat up, struggling to rise when two people entered the room, accompanied by a DI. John cleared his throat to speak.

"Officer, I hope you'll tell me what's going on and why I'm here."

"I'm DI Vyner and you're here, Mr. Bates, because you murdered a man for the cash in his billfold."

"What?" John shook his head, "No, I was on my way home to propose to my girlfriend. I didn't kill anyone."

"Then what were you doing in that alley, Mr. Bates?"

"I heard a noise and I followed the source. I saw the man, on the ground, and I went to him."

"To rifle through his pockets?"

"No, to see if I could help him." John struggled to sit up, "He wanted me to pass on a message to Mary and George. From what I could tell Mary is his wife and George is his son. He loves them very much and he wanted-"

"This man's obviously delusional Inspector." The man with perfectly coifed hair cut through John's words. "The coroner said that death was instantaneous."

"He was alive and speaking to me." John pulled at the handcuff, "Will someone get me a phone so I can call my girlfriend and tell her where I am?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bates," Inspector Vyner shook his head, "But you're a dangerous man and we need to keep you under strict observation. No one's to know you're here."

"I didn't kill that poor man. Ask the shop keeper. I was in there buying the roses your flatfeet trampled and the chocolates and the card. He saw me."

"The timestamp on CCTV gave you more than enough time." The woman clicked her tongue against her teeth. "To kill a man for a few pounds, what kind of monster must you be?"

"I didn't do it."

"Inspector," The other man spoke again, "I'd say we move him to protective custody immediately pending his arraignment."

"I agree Mr. Barrow. We can't let things like this lie." Vyner snapped his fingers and two more officers entered the room. "Get this man a bed and get him to the nearest prison hospital. I want him under guard."

"You can't do this!" John fought their hold, holding back a scream of pain when one of them bumped his bandaged leg. "I demand a lawyer!"

"Much good it'll do you." Barrow sneered, "We've got a witness places you in that alley, killing that man. We've got the murder weapon, with your fingerprints. And that's not all."

He turned to the woman, "Tell him what else we've got on him Ms. O'Brien."

"We've got you with his blood on your hands."

"I didn't do it."

"Get him out of here." Vyner called over the noise. "We've not got all night."

John heard his own voice echoing in his ears, like it was not even his. "I didn't do it. I didn't kill him."

But no one was listening because no one cared.