"Agent Larsen, I'm gonna ask you to clarify a few dates of service over the past six months." George Bixby told Tom, looking at him from across the small table.
Tom nodded, looking at George. "Alright."
"November 2nd of last year. We have you assigned to POTUS' detail while he campaigned in Ohio. Is that correct?"
"That sounds about right, yes." Tom nodded again, looking at George as he spoke.
"Then explain to me why and how somebody swiped your security card that same day, 400 miles away in Maryland, at Fort Detrick?"
"Are we on record here, sir?"
He nodded. "Yes, we are, Agent Larsen. What were you doing at Fort Detrick on November 2nd?"
Tom kept a straight face as he looked in front of him. "I was completing an assignment, sir."
"An assignment?" George Bixby raised an eyebrow.
Tom nodded. "Yes sir."
"Under who's orders?"
The door opened and Rowan walked in the room. Tom's facial expression immediately dropped when he saw his boss walking in. "Agent Bixby, I'll take it from here." He took George's place and sat across from Tom.
"I'm not saying anything without an attorney present."
"You seem nervous, Agent uh, Larsen, is it?"
"What are you doing here? And who the hell brought Rowan into this?" Cyrus asked as he looked next to him. Fitz was standing beside him, looking at Rowan and Tom through the one-way mirror.
"I did, Cy."
Back in the room, Tom was trying to speak to Fitz. "As I said, I wish to exercise my constitutional right to representation."
"I think you'll find the constitution doesn't apply in this case, Agent Larsen." Tom was trying to look through the mirror to get Fitz's attention. "Eyes on me, Agent."
"I would like to speak with the president."
"Relax, Agent Larsen. The truth shall set you free. All you have to do is give me the information that I need, and I'll have you on your way."
That son of a bitch. "Mr. President, please..." Tom begged.
Rowan ignored him. "Now, I see that we've established that you were present at Fort Detrick November 2nd, two days before the election, under "official assignment", as you put it." Tom didn't respond. "Agent?"
"Yes."
"What was that assignment, Agent Larsen?" Once again, no response. "Allow me to jog your memory. Multiple security cameras and several prints place you in the defense research facility for more than an hour, a highly classified area, as you might guess, where many lethal agents are studied and housed, including one specific strain of bacterial meningitis that went missing that day, the exact strain that killed young Jerry Grant."
"What is he doing, Mr. President?" Cyrus asked as he watched Rowan and Tom.
Fitz kept his eyes locked on the two men. "Finding out who killed my son."
Tom looked at Rowan. "What do you want from me?"
"You know what I want, soldier."
Tom shook his head. "I don't, I swear."
"Oh, but you do. Think. You were there. A vial goes missing. A young boy dies. You will be held responsible for the assassination of the president's son. I just need to know why you did it."
"I-I-I was under orders." Tom told him, getting more nervous by the second.
"Who's orders?"
"Please. I can't do this."
"Let me make this clear, Agent Larsen. There won't be one single person left on your side when you leave this room. You want me on your side. You need me on your side. And I will do all I can for you if you tell me right now what I need to hear. Who gave you the order?"
"Please, I..."
"Who gave you the order, soldier!?"
"Please.."
"Who gave you the order to kill the president's son!?"
Tom took a deep breath, swallowing hard before speaking. "Jake Ballard...Ballard gave me the order."
Cyrus looked at Fitz, who was just staring, his facial expression unchanged. "Sir?" He questioned.
"Do it."
It was extremely late when Fitz found his way back up to the residence. He was drunk, to say the least, but he had a reason. He had just found out that one of his secret service agents murdered his son. He had a reason to drink. As he was walking to his bedroom, he nearly tripped on something in the hallway. He looked down and saw Teddy curled up on the floor, his head on his stuffed lion, and his baby blanket wrapped around him.
Fitz bent down and picked up the little boy. "What're you doing out here, little man?" He asked as Teddy opened his eyes slowly and laid his head on his father's shoulder.
"Mes no get in yous room." He told him sleepily, yawning as he closed his eyes once more. "Door close. Me no reach."
Fitz nodded and kissed his son's head, stumbling slightly as he carried the little boy back to his bedroom. By the time Fitz laid him down, Teddy was already back asleep. He watched him for a few minutes before heading to him and Mellie's room and stripping down to his boxers. He looked at Mellie, who was sleeping so calmly in his t-shirt and a pair of black lace panties. He felt terrible. She wouldn't be sleeping like this again for a long time. He had to tell her. He had to tell her that their son was murdered, that his best secret service agent had murdered their son. That they weren't as safe as they thought they were here. If Mellie wasn't already the most protective mother in the entire world, telling her this would definitely turn her into that.
He crawled into bed next to her, wrapping his arm around her stomach, running his hand over her tiny, almost non-existent, baby bump. She wasn't that pregnant, but he knew she was. And he knew there was a small bump there. He rubbed her stomach, sighing to himself as he laid his head on the pillow. He didn't sleep at all that night, just stared at his wife as she slept ever so peacefully.
Fitz couldn't figure out a good time to tell her. Every time he wanted to, he couldn't stand to hurt him, to turn her good mood into a terrible mood. But he finally decided to rip off the bandaid and he called her into his office.
"Mel? Come here, baby."
Mellie raised an eyebrow and closed his office door before walking over to him. He pulled her into his lap, and immediately Mellie was extremely confused. He smelled like scotch, but she brushed it off. "Mellie, I'm gonna tell you something...and you can react however you need to. You can cry, you can throw things, you can yell, and you can scream. Whatever you need to do, you do it. Because this is something that you need to know, and it's gonna hurt like hell..."
Mellie nodded, looking at her husband. "Okay..."
"It wasn't an accident that killed our son..." Fitz started, running his hand through Mellie's dark, thick curls. "Jerry was murdered." He told her, and Mellie's mouth dropped. She looked at him with tears in her bright blue eyes. "What I'm about to tell you...you can't repeat to anyone else, Mel. It's top secret information at the moment. And some of it may not make sense to you, and I apologize for that, but I'm unable to answer most of the questions that you'll have."
She nodded once more. "O-okay." She told him, her voice breaking as she spoke.
"Jake Ballard ordered Tom to kill our son...yes, our Tom." He held Mellie close, sighing as he kissed the top of her head. "I don't know why. But I'm getting to the bottom of it. And as soon as I can tell you something, I will." He took his wife's hand, squeezing it gently. "And if you need anything, anything at all, Mel, I'm here for you. You let me know whatever you need and I will get it for you...It's you and me. And our babies."
"You and me.." She mumbled, burying her face in Fitz's chest. She sobbed loudly, which was less than what Fitz had expected. He held her in his arms, rocking her slightly as he ran his hand through her hair, trying to calm her as best as he could. This wasn't going to be easy on any of them. Especially Mellie, considering that she was pregnant. He was going to have to keep an eye on her and make sure that anything she needed or wanted, she got. Any time that she needed to talk to him, he was available. He had to make sure that he was there for her because it wasn't like she hadn't felt bad enough about their son's death already.
"I love you." Fitz whispered over and over again as he held his wife. "I love you so so much, Mels."
"I love you too." Mellie responded quietly, trying to ignore the sharp pain that was building up in her stomach.