Kate was waiting for her flight with Agent Vera Novak, who was absently looking at her phone and not really paying attention to her. Kate was fine with that. Her heart was hurting badly right now, and trying to carry a conversation was just too difficult. She wanted to be alone, hidden away and not bothered for a long time.

She knew of Vera, but she didn't know her all too well. Vera was of Slavic descent with brown hair to her shoulders and grey-blue eyes. She was very in shape, which Kate was slightly envious of. Kate wasn't bad, but she didn't have quite as many muscles.

"Excuse me," Vera said as her phone rang, and Kate watched her get up and answer it while walking slightly away. She studied Vera's posture and facial expressions, and something didn't feel right. When Vera looked over at her and almost seemed nervous to find Kate watching her, that really didn't feel right. Kate made herself look away so as not to seem like she was being nosy, but her heart was beginning to pound. She didn't really trust anyone right now, if she was honest. The only two people she did trust were Brant and Porter, but neither of them were there with her.

"Sorry," Vera said, returning now. "My sister. She's always having to know where I am and what I'm doing."

"Hmm," Kate replied nonverbally. She gave a sympathetic nod, but the way Vera's body was tense made her aware that it was a lie, not that she'd needed confirmation. Kate wasn't stupid.

Their flight was called, and Kate was mentally trying to figure out what to do as Vera picked up her bag and headed for the terminal. She lagged behind, still thinking. Where was Vera going to kill her? Before they got on the plane? On the plane? Once they got home? Maybe Norman didn't want to kill her, but Elijah would. Or maybe Norman had changed his mind, and what better way to pull it off than to make Kate think she wasn't going to be killed when he actually was planning to?

"Shit," she said, making Vera look over her shoulder at her. "I forgot my smokes."

"You can get more later," Vera insisted.

"These ones are special, sorry. I'll just be a minute. You go on ahead."

"Kate..."

But Kate was already turning around to head back to the exit. She made it just outside the door when Vera jumped her from behind. Kate let out an aggravated cry, and they went down together. People gasped and watched as she and Vera got to their feet and began punching each other. Vera was tough, but Kate was tougher. She took hit after hit, feeling blood on her face and bruises forming. Where she'd had the shrapnel in her side got hit more than once, and she screamed as the wound was reopened. Her leg was barely hanging in there, and she feared those stitches would come out too. Then Vera got Kate into a chokehold from behind, and Kate was grabbing for anything to use in her favor.

"Just give in to it, Kate," Vera said fiercely as she held on. "You were never going to get out of this alive."

Kate struggled, looking to the crowd for help. A woman to her right discreetly handed her a small coffee thermos, and Kate took it and smashed it into Vera's face.

"ARRGGHH!"

Kate pulled free and took off running, her body in agony as she went. It was pointless to fight Vera right now; she was in flight mode now anyway. She dodged people and cars, getting across the street and running for her life. She ran until she got lost, and then she didn't know where to go or who to trust.

Well, she did know someone. She just hoped he would still want to help her.

...

Brant was on his back on his couch, watching smoke drift to the ceiling. He wasn't technically supposed to smoke inside, but it was raining, and he hated standing out there getting wet while puffing away on his vice.

Maybe he really should just quit.

Pounding on his door made him lurch upwards, spinning his head to look at it. He put out his cigarette and grabbed his gun, just in case. He moved to stand next to the door. He was about to ask who it was when:

"Brant? Brant! Please open the door! It's Kate! Oh God, please be home. BRANT!" More pounding. Brant unlatched the door and pulled it open, and Kate stood there bloody and beat up and breathing like she'd run a marathon. She was also drenched.

"Kate," he said, shocked at the sight of her. "What the hell happened?!"

She practically fell inside, and he caught her on the way down. He helped her upright and then shut the door. She was shaking and holding herself. That's when he noticed her shrapnel wound was bleeding. He moved into action, steering her to his bathroom for medical supplies. Kate hobbled beside him without a word.

"Brant, what are you doing?" she asked when he took off his sling.

"I can't work with it on," he answered logically.

"You'll hurt yourself..."

"It's fine," he said curtly, and she let it go. He helped her take off her shirt, which made her groan in pain.

"Who did this to you?" he demanded, getting the gauze ready.

"Vera."

"Who is that?"

"She was the agent sent to pick me up and met me at the airport. She's on someone's payroll. I just don't know if it's Norman's or Elijah's."

"I thought they didn't want to kill you?"

"Apparently they changed their mind." She grimaced as he cleaned her up and began packing the wound and wrapping it. She put one hand on his good shoulder and leaned her head back against the wall, breathing in spurts.

"I should have taken you there," Brant said, mentally beating himself up.

"I should have not been an idiot and realized there are more dirty law enforcement than clean ones," she grunted around the pain. Brant finished with her side wound and then went to her face. She closed her eyes as he gently wiped away the blood so he could see the source of it. She had a cut on her right cheek that wasn't deep enough for stitches but enough to make it look worse than it was. He dried off the spot and stuck two small bandages over it to hold it shut.

"What do you need from us?" Brant asked, knowing Porter was going to want to help as well.

"I don't even know," she said despairingly. "I don't know who to trust back home. I don't know what's going on. I'm just...I'm so tired." She started to cry while fighting it, which made her sobs harder and jerkier. She fell against him now, and he held her close, wishing he had answers and could help her better.

"We'll figure it out, Kate," he promised. "You've got us."

"Thank you," she said around her tears. "And just so you know, I haven't cried this much in a very long time."

"I know." He let her cry it out, knowing she was processing everything, needed to process everything. When he felt her shiver from being cold, he finally let her go and went to get her a long sleeved shirt of his that was clean as well as pants, which she put on after drying off completely. It bagged on her a bit and she had to have a tight belt around the pants, but she didn't care.

"Smoke?" he offered, and she shook her head.

"No," she answered. "I don't think I want to smoke anymore."

Brant wasn't sure what led to this decision, but he accepted it. He nodded and gestured for her to sit on the couch while he put his sling back on and then brought her a water. She drank it fast and set the glass down after with a slight bang.

"F***ing shit," she said loudly, angrily. "I want to put an end to this!" She buried her face in her hands and let out an aggravated yell. When she dropped them again, she met Brant's eyes.

"So where do we start?" he asked.

...

"Thanks, Evan," Kate said. She was so tired, but she had to keep going. Brant was taking notes next to her since she had him on speaker.

"Are you alright, Kate?" Evan asked, sounding concerned.

"No, but I will be. Not that you care."

"I actually do care about you, Kate."

"Right. Tell that to the hussy you banged while we were married."

Evan let out a heavy sigh. "You're never going to forgive me, are you?"

"I've forgiven, but I'll never forget," she advised.

"Just be careful, alright?"

Kate hung up and pressed her fingers against her temple, massaging lightly. Brant dropped his pen and sighed.

"Okay," he said. "So Colin dated Vera, which is how she got the information cos Colin is a git and can't keep his mouth shut."

"He always was an asshole," Kate muttered, remembering.

"So he's not Norman's contact. Vera is," Brant went on. "You think she's connected with Elijah too?"

"Has to be. Norman works with him."

"So we just have to figure out which one put the hit out on you."

Someone knocked on the door, and Brant went to answer it. Porter came in with his laptop under his arm and looking harried and concerned.

"You alright, Kate?" he asked, sitting down across from her and setting the laptop down on the coffee table.

"Been better," she answered.

"No kidding," Porter said wryly. "Okay, so there was a hit on Norman's jet in Germany."

"Pit stop or new place to set up?" Brant asked.

"No idea. I got police there to check it out, but the jet was abandoned. So our guy is on foot or in a car now."

"Has anyone found Vera yet?" Kate asked.

"No, but they're looking. London is pretty heavily surveilled, so hopefully we find her soon."

Kate just nodded, and Brant pressed his fingers together, processing. She leaned back into the couch and desperately wanted to sleep.

"I'll keep on it," Porter said, noticing. "You two stay here for now. Call me if anything happens."

"Sure," Brant agreed. He went to let Porter out, and when he returned, Kate's eyes were closed. She felt him kneel in front of her and rest his hands on her knees. "Hey."

"Mm," she replied nonverbally.

"I actually have a guest room here," he said. "How about we get you comfortable in it?" She opened her eyes and found his. She nodded slowly, and he stood and offered a hand, which she took. She held onto it as they walked to the room, but when she stepped inside after letting it go, she suddenly felt afraid to be alone.

"Brant?" she said.

"Yea?"

She tried to find the words, but they wouldn't come. Brant seemed to understand, though, since he simply took her hand again and led her to his bedroom. He pulled back the comforter, and she crawled in and curled onto her right side. He rested on his back on top of the comforter, pausing to look at her when she lifted her head and looked over her shoulder at him.

"Closer," she whispered. "Please?"

Without a word, he got back up and slid under the covers next to her. She turned onto her left side, realizing with his sling he couldn't hold her properly, and she put an arm over his stomach and tucked her head against his neck on his shoulder. His right arm was under her, and his hand smoothed her back and arm comfortingly.

"Thank you," she said. "Goodnight, Brant."

"Goodnight, Kate."

The Next Day

Brant wasn't going to pretend he wasn't happy that Kate was still there, but he did hate the circumstances for it. Waking up with her had made him feel such joy inside, and it was so different from all the anger that it made him crave more.

He watched her come out from checking her bandage and sit down at the table across from him. She picked at a piece of toast.

"Burn out," he said, and she looked at him.

"What?"

"That's what you're feeling," he continued. "I felt that way a few years ago, and Nash explained what it was."

"You were burnt out?"

"Yea. Didn't see the point in eating or getting up every day. Work felt hopeless. We were dealing with a cop killer at the time, and I felt helpless not being able to protect my own team."

"Did you get the guy?"

"Oh yes," Brant answered, nodding. "Nash and I got him."

"That's good."

"When I look at you, I see that burnt out version of myself looking back," he finished. "Nash suggested taking some time away to re-center and get better."

"I can't really do that right now..."

"Not now, but after," Brant corrected. She looked thoughtful for a moment, and he latched onto this because it was better than her looking half dead. "Where would you want to go for a holiday?"

"The Dominican," she answered.

"Then go there," he said simply. "When this is all over, get on the first plane there and stay there for a month."

She laughed softly, which was good to hear, although he knew she was still in a lot of pain from loss. "It'd be kind of lonely all by myself." She gave him a pointed look, and he felt slight shivers at the fact she was inviting him. At least, he thought she was.

"Maybe a friend'll meet you there," he replied, testing it.

"Maybe we'll be more than friends when it's over," she countered. His skin tingled. She was definitely confirming it. He cleared his throat.

"Lucky friend," he said.

"Very lucky," she agreed, sticking another piece of toast into her mouth. Brant was having a slight daydream of what Dominican Kate would be like when Porter called. Brant put it on speaker.

"Yea?" he answered.

"Turner turned," Porter replied.

"Come again?"

"Turner told us where Norman is in Germany. I guess he didn't take the pressure of interrogation so well."

"Lucky for us." Brant looked at Kate, who was listening.

"German police are doing a raid as we speak."

"They won't find him," Kate said. "He's too smart for that. You think he doesn't know Turner ratted him out?"

"We'll find out I guess," Porter sighed. "Any updates on your end?"

"My boss is frantically trying to figure out the connection between Vera and Norman and/or Elijah. My family has people watching them currently to keep them safe."

"Good. I'll be in touch soon when I find out the results of this raid."

"Thanks, Nash," Brant said, and they hung up. He looked at Kate again. "Well?"

"I guess all we can do is wait, but it's driving me crazy," she said with a heavy sigh. "And I can't stop thinking about Delia..." She stopped talking before she cried, which Brant knew she was sick of doing.

"They sent her body home," he told her softly. "Your family can have a funeral."

"There shouldn't be a funeral," she said angrily. "There should have been a homecoming celebration. She had so much life left to live. I just can't stand it knowing she's gone and it's my fault."

"No, it's Turner's fault," Brant corrected. "It's Norman's fault. It's Elijah's fault. It was not your fault, Kate...never your fault." She sat there breathing heavily, a single tear rolling down her cheek. She finally nodded and blinked away the rest threatening to fall.

"How did you survive it?" she asked. "Losing your mother and sister?"

"I don't think I really did," he confessed. "I mean, look at me. I let my temper get the best of me...I run hot most of the time, and I'm married to the job to take down people like my father or people involved in handing out drugs and contributing to overdoses. So, no...I don't think I really survived it. I'm living it every day."

"I don't want to be like that," Kate said. "No offense, but that's a hell of a way to live."

"I know."

"I know healing takes a while, but it does start eventually," she added. "Maybe yours needs to start sooner than later."

He twisted his lips into a small smile. Maybe so, but he didn't know where to start. That was the problem.

"I'll help," she offered. "When you're ready."

"Thanks."

"And just so you know, having someone's name doesn't mean you're going to be anything like them. If anything, it gives you the chance to prove you're better."

Brant had no response to this as he didn't know what to say. She was right again, but he just couldn't stomach being called Tom. Not right now. He watched her get up and go watch TV. He sat alone for a while, wondering whether or not he could actually get the healing he was clearly craving.

...

Kate wanted the pain to stop. She played with Brant's cigarette in her fingers, trying to will herself to smoke it, but something in her just didn't want to. She wasn't sure how to feel about that. She tucked it away and sighed. She tried to be interested in what was on the TV, but in this moment, she didn't quite frankly give a shit about whether or not those eggs were done properly and if they'd get rated well by the judge. She shut it off, growling softly.

"Sounding more like me every day," Brant commented, standing behind her. She scoffed.

"Maybe that's for the best."

"No, it's not."

"I'm so angry," Kate said, her fists balled now. "I don't know how to handle this feeling right now." She put her head into her hands, and a moment later, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Luckily, I do," Brant stated. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Come on," he said again, grabbing some sort of stick from his mantle on the way by. Kate followed because she was admittedly curious, and she also wanted a release of this anger somehow. She watched him pull out his phone and call someone.

"Hey, it's me," he said. "You mind if we do a little smash therapy? Yea. Ten minutes. Thanks."

Kate was very intrigued now. They got into Brant's car and ended up at a place that was filled with stuff, some broken and some still intact. Kate was surprised to see Stokes there. A woman was with him; she was beautiful with her dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, and slightly darker complexion.

"Falls," Brant said, giving her a nod. She nodded back.

"You look like shit," Stokes commented.

"So do you," Brant retorted.

"Okay, boys," Falls said, giving them a smile. "Settle down." She looked at Kate next. "Hi, I'm Elizabeth Falls."

"Kate Macer. Nice to meet you," Kate said. She looked at Stokes, who appeared grim and upset almost. He was leaning on a cane for support.

"I'm so sorry, Kate," he said to her. "I let you down."

"It's not your fault," she replied. "You didn't know."

"Still..."

"Really, it's fine," Kate said firmly, and he stopped arguing with her. He looked at Brant next.

"Ah, you brought the hurley," Stokes commented, eyeing up the stick in Brant's hand. "Nice."

"Hurley?" Kate asked.

"Don't ask," Falls answered, chuckling a little. "Come on then. Let 'er rip."

"I'm not sure I understand," Kate started, but Brant was already mid swing, and Kate jumped slightly as he started beating the shit out of everything in that room...and he only had one good arm.

"Smash therapy," Falls said to Kate, when she looked confused. "Works amazingly well."

"Here," Brant said, tossing the hurley to her. "Go for it."

Kate felt a little bit stupid doing this, but then she got pissed off again, and she unleashed. She barley heard Stokes cheering her on while Falls clapped and hollered. Brant stood quiet, his good hand down by his side with his thumb tucked into his pant pocket, but a small smile was on his face. Kate smashed the shit out of everything, and by the time she was done, she felt a little bit better. Panting, she slowly sank down to the ground until she was sitting and leaning against the wall, the hurley now resting on the ground next to her. Stokes and Falls left them then, and Brant sat down next to her a moment later.

"Thank you," Kate said, looking at him. "That felt amazing."

"Good."

"Now what?"

He looked thoughtful for a minute; then he lifted a brow as he looked at her again. Before he could speak, though, the sound of heels clicking on pavement occurred just outside the door. They both looked to see a woman in a black leather suit holding an automatic rifle and smiling widely at them.

"Chantel," Brant said, stunned.

"Surprise, bitches," she replied. She aimed, and Kate managed to grab Brant and shove them both down behind cover just as bullets flew. Kate rested on Brant, her hands covering her head. She felt Brant take off his sling again, and he moved to roll her over so he was shielding her now.

More gunfire sounded, and Kate heard Stokes and Falls shouting as Chantel aimed at them next. This gave Brant and Kate time to get up and find weapons. Brant pulled his pistol from the back of his pants while Kate grabbed the hurley. She got one swing in while Chantel was preoccupied—right in the back of the right leg. Chantel screamed and went down, and Kate was on her instantly. She received a machine gun to the face shortly after, and she cried out in pain before falling onto her back. Chantel was quick; she was fighting Brant next, disarming him easily and using her machine gun like a bat, getting a hit into his chest. Kate went for Brant's gun, her nose bleeding. She crawled over to it and tugged it over with her fingers, picking it up finally and turning around to aim it at Chantel. Brant was still engaged in a fight with her, though, and she didn't want to accidentally shoot him. Stokes and Falls were having the same problem. Stokes had fallen to the ground, though, his cane next to him.

"Brant!" she shouted, and he whacked Chantel's pressure points on her arms with his fists as she attempted to wrap her fingers around his throat. He managed to throw her off and collected her machine gun as she fell down. He aimed it at her, and she smiled up at him.

"We would make a great team," she advised.

"Like I said," he told her. "I ain't interested." He looked up at Kate and the others. "You alright?"

"We're good," Falls said, answering for her and Stokes. She was reaching to help him up now.

"Fine," Kate answered, feeling angry again. Her nose was throbbing; she hoped it wasn't broken. She gripped the pistol tightly, telling herself it wasn't smart to shoot Chantel even though she wanted to.

"Where's Norman?" Brant asked Chantel.

"Like I'd tell you," she snorted.

"It's her," Kate said suddenly.

"Her what?" Brant asked.

"I can't believe we missed it," Kate went on.

"Missed what? What are you going on about?" Brant asked, annoyed.

"She's behind the trafficking," Kate said, and Brant looked surprised.

"Why do you say that?"

"Her behavior towards me at the club for starters, and who would think that a woman would be trafficking other women and girls? She's the perfect candidate."

"So Norman just did the drugs?"

"I did it all, Brant," Chantel said to him. "Norman was just my face of the entire organization. You think anyone would have listened to me if I was publicly in charge?"

"So why attack us and reveal yourself now?" Kate asked her.

"Because loose ends need to be dealt with," Chantel answered. "And you all were so hell bent on getting Norman that no one thought to look for me. I had the upper hand...the ultimate surprise attack."

"I don't fully buy it," Brant said as Falls moved to pick her up and handcuff her.

"Buy what you want...or don't," Chantel said, looking at him. Kate wondered if the woman was intentionally just trying to head game them, but she didn't know. She did want to do one thing, though. She marched up to Chantel and stared at her for a moment. Then she slapped her hard across the face.

"Oh!" Stokes yelped while Falls gasped. Brant started to laugh, and Kate's hand stung as she backed away and glowered at Chantel.

"What goes around comes around," Brant commented when he calmed a little bit. He nodded to Stokes, who followed Falls as she led Chantel out of there.

"You two alright?" Falls asked them over her shoulder before disappearing.

"We're fine," Brant answered, examining Kate's nose now. She hissed and winced as he touched it lightly.

"Okay," Falls said. "Call if you need me."

Brant didn't answer her. He studied Kate's nose and then gave a nod. "Not broken, but you're gonna get a black eye or two."

"Great," Kate groaned. They headed out together, Brant not even bothering with his sling anymore. Kate hoped he wouldn't further injure himself, but she didn't feel up to lecturing him. He was a big boy.

"So, if she's a part of this," Brant said, referring to Chantel, "then maybe we can still get Norman after all."

"Send him a communication from her," she clarified. "From say...her phone?" She held up Chantel's cell phone that she'd stolen from her after slapping her. She showed him that it was unlocked, and he grinned.

"Perfect."