AN:

1) My favorite (not really) part of writing this road trip arc is constantly having to check back to see what color Alex or Ella's eyes are, or what the current state of their hair is.

2) This chapter gets unserious quickly…

Chapter 32: Ro-Ro's Pastries

Interlude #6.1

Red Roof Inn

New Stanton, Pennsylvania

Tonight did not go as planned for Alex.

A moment that was supposed to be the start of something new and special turned into a lot of blurry tears and clumsy confessions.

Alex splashed some cool water on his face. He walked over to the bathroom window, taking notice of a bath towel hanging over the curtains. He removed the towel and looked out the window. It was the same one Ella had contemplated escaping from about an hour ago.

He saw this tall old oak tree whose branches stretched about 5 feet below the window. Ella was insane if she thought she could make the jump. Though, Alex knew in his heart of hearts that he definitely would have tried the stunt a few years back. Oh, to be small and nimble, he mused. Part of Alex missed those days when he was all sinewy adrenaline. Things certainly weren't uncomplicated then, but they were simpler? Maybe? At least he knew who was on his side.

He turned back to the mirror and stared at his reflection, hardly recognizing himself. His irises were a pale green–nothing like Ella's bright emerald eyes. His hair was still dyed jet black, and it reminded Alex of the time Tom decided he was goth. Tom was all black hair and pasty skin and misplaced confidence.

Alex wished that the extent of his misplaced confidence involved wearing a choker to school.

He usually prided himself on his situational awareness. He was always two steps ahead of everyone in his life. But Ella…Ella had him fooled here.

Once she finally broke down and wanted to tell him the truth, he just let her go to bed. He had really taken a good look at her at that moment. While Alex needed to know her truth like he needed oxygen, he couldn't look past the dark circles weighing down her eyes. Above all else, she had to drive in the morning. This conversation would be just as well in the car. The two of them needed a little space anyway.

Alex had gone to the bathroom to pull himself together. He could not remember the last time he cried in front of another person. It honestly might have been 'one lovely afternoon in Cairo' when he sobbed so hard he blacked out. He was raised by perhaps the most emotionless man to ever walk the Earth (okay, that was unfair to John Crawley).

In fourteen years, Alex had never seen his uncle cry. Ian Rider was all carefully measured words and cautious footsteps. Sometimes, Alex still didn't believe he was actually a spy, though he conceded that was probably the best cover of all.

Spending two days with Ella is what broke him. In the three times they've spent time together, Ella has probably cried in front of him more times than Alex has cried period. Fuck what Ella said about him being the brave one here. At least she wasn't afraid to show the world how she really felt.

And how did Alex feel?

Raw, for one. It wasn't every day he got turned down in such a heartbreaking fashion. His cheeks were puffy and blotchy. He scrubbed his face with a washcloth to try to remove some of the puffiness, but the towel felt like sandpaper against his skin. At least the tenderness of his cheeks counterbalanced the heaviness behind his eyelids.

Still staring at his reflection, Alex wondered how it all went wrong. In what world does a girl kiss you first and then say she doesn't have feelings for you? Alex knew she was lying when she said that. He could hear it in the flatness of her voice.

Ella cited being too messed up to be worthy of him, but Alex could handle messy. Again, his best friends were the girl with the Damian Cray poster on the wall for exposure therapy; the boy who endured his parents feuding for years before finally dropping out of high school and escaping to his brother in Italy; and the woman who unexpectedly became a parental figure to a 14-year-old without a support system. And Alex ruled them all. His chaos was unmatched by theirs. Nothing Ella could ever do or say could be worse than being shot in the heart or watching your best friend explode. He didn't need her to protect him.

He didn't need her to protect him.

Alex didn't understand Ella's need to be a martyr here. In fact, none of her reasoning for any of this made sense. Alex blew his nose and chose to do what he did best–get to the bottom of this.

Sick of seeing his swollen eyes, Alex elected to sit on the floor. His back against the cool tile, he elected to list the things he knew to be true:

One. In spite of the past 30 minutes, he still really liked Ella. Alex knew it would take a lot more than that for his feelings to go away.

Two. Ella sent him mixed signals today. While Alex was willing to accept the initial kiss in the car happened purely to confuse the police officer, she never should have kept adding fuel to the fire.

Three. With Sabina in Chicago for university, Tom in Italy, and Jack spending so much time with her boyfriend, Alex knew he needed a change. Spending time with Ella's friends in the Hague was the most fun he had had in ages, and if he didn't get himself invited to more nights like that, he feared for his brain.

Four. While Alex thought he had gotten to know Ella pretty well by this point, he was deeply, deeply wrong. Alex knew how her voice quivered just as she was about to cry. He knew the depths of the unexplained scar that stretched from her upper cheek to her temple. He knew how her wispy hair felt between his fingers. He knew where her cocky grin ended and her anxieties began. He could hear the second her Dutch lilt began to weave its way into her American accent: usually the result of a moment of great emotion. He knew how much he wanted her and how natural she felt in his arms.

But then, there was the weight of her impending confession. There was the issue of her family, which Alex still knew nothing about. There was, most of all, the hurt she had caused him by turning him down for no reason at all.

Five. He knew she liked him too, and none of her excuses had been anything viable.

Six. He heard the sound of a phone ringing in the bedroom and lifted his tired body off of the bathroom floor to go investigate.

Interlude #7 (Interlude-ception)

Camp David

Frederick County, Maryland

Oliver Baker felt the breath leave his body when he saw that red blinking dot in the Southwestern corner of Pennsylvania. He looked around the room. Everyone looked relieved except for Johannes 2. The older man looked how Oliver felt: like a deer caught in headlights.

Oliver locked eyes with Ella's uncle, the tallest person in the room by a couple inches. Everyone else was focused on this stupid, evil, blinking dot. Johannes 2 discreetly shifted his hand from where it rested against his cheek and moved his index finger so it rested over his lips. It was the universal 'shut your fucking mouth' sign.

Oliver considered it for half a second but his anger at John Cornell had reached its boiling point. "What's your plan, John? Drive out and kidnap her? She's an adult who lives on a separate continent from you. She wasn't taken or anything and I'm sure she can hold her own."

"Man, why are you even here?" James spoke up, still upset about the other night when Oliver had frogmarched him outside in front of everybody. "Last I checked you were not a part of this family." Oliver scanned the room, seeing only Cornells and Bermans.

"Last I checked you were a prick," Oliver said lazily, "And your Dad forced me to come here. If it were up to me I'd be in bed with Fenna–this is our vacation, after all–but at least my presence here was wanted. You're only here because no one your age wants your company."

Oliver saw Johannes 2 stifle a laugh. Johannes 3 noticed this too, as he turned around towards his dad and gave him a very pointed look. Oliver wondered what the hell that was about.

"Boys, please stop fighting," Michelle, James and Ella's mother, pleaded. This was classic Michelle to never take a side and to just tell people to be quiet without resolving anything.

Oliver wasn't feeling quite so magnanimous. "You should ask your son why he's so quick to anger with me," he egged James on, "Ask him why he holds so much contempt towards me."

"Son?" John asked.

"Dude, stay out of this." James turned to Oliver. "Stop acting like you're family."

"He's mad that I called him out in front of everyone the other night for spilling Ella's secret to the whole group of us." Oliver kept that last part intentionally vague, just to let John Cornell scramble for a second.

"You did what?" John asked his son, his voice hard as ice.

James froze. "The rehab secret," Oliver explained sweetly. He saw John lighten up a little bit. "And exposing your little sister's biggest secret to her friends like that doesn't seem like what family does," Oliver said, dancing gracefully around several confidential subjects.

James let out an exasperated cry and threw a punch at Oliver. He had seen it coming from a kilometer away and took a step backward, easily avoiding the attack. He decided to escalate the situation further and pulled a knife out of his sleeve.

It was a Russian shmel bayonet combat knife that Yuri had gifted him a few years back. The metal glinted in the overhead lights of the office. "I'll advise you not to touch me," Oliver said coolly.

"Okay!" Johannes 2 finally intervened, "James, why don't you go walk it off. Son," he turned to Johannes 3, "Why don't you go with your cousin."

Johannes 3, the most mild-mannered guy Oliver knew, opened his mouth to argue with his father. Oliver sensed a lot of tension there and assumed their disagreement about Ella had never been resolved. Oliver took a mental note of this and glanced back up at the knife in his hand. All things considered, he was grateful that even as the knife-wielder, the room consensus was that he was the sane one here.

"Son," Johannes 2 said through gritted teeth. Johannes 3 locked eyes with his father and took a deep breath.

"Fine," he said curtly, "James, let's go."

The two guys left, leaving just Oliver, John, Michelle, and Johannes 2.

"Oliver, put the knife away," Johannes 2 beseeched, "You've made your point." Oliver obliged.

"Now," Johannes 2 continued, "John, you seem to have things covered here." Oliver blanched at this. "It's getting late, so why don't you go and get her in the morning."

"Are you really taking her side in all of this?" John replied. "I am her father."

"She's an adult," Johannes 2 shrugged, "And we both know she has the skills to survive. You taught her, after all."

Oliver felt very awkward all of a sudden. Who knew that moving to the States for an internship four years ago would give him a front-row seat in the Cornell-Berman family drama. He shut his eyes and wished he were with his own family right now. He'd take his mother's silent judgments of his sister's tattoos and septum piercing over whatever this was every single time.

"I'm her father," John repeated, "And I'm finding her tonight. This has gone on long enough and she needs to know who's in charge here."

Oliver glanced at Michelle who was just staring at that blinking dot. He looked at Johannes 2 who was obviously biting his tongue. Given his present company and his anger at John Cornell, Oliver again chose to speak up.

"I think you're just mad she outsmarted you."

"Excuse me?" John said, shocked at the challenge.

"You heard me. I don't know how you started tracking her, but without it, you never would have found her. You used government resources to shut down multiple state borders and still, she slipped through. I don't know what this is about, John, but it's becoming unsustainable. What did Ella even do to warrant this?"

John blanched. "That's a family matter."

"Don't play that game with me, John. I'm family and you know it. My father is dead and you're the closest thing I have left. You all know that I consider Ella and Clara equally to be my sisters. You can't ask me to keep an eye on her in England yet also exclude me when it matters most. She talks to me more than any of her blood siblings. You know that I'm family," Oliver puffs out his chest, "So what is the real reason?"

Johannes 2 nodded slowly. Oliver saw quite clearly they were on the same page and wondered why he wasn't speaking up too.

"Of course you're family, Oliver," It was Michelle who finally broke the silence. "You are always welcome in our home and I never want you to question your place with us. Right, John?" She asked pointedly. Oliver was grateful that someone was finally standing up for him.

"Thank you, Michelle. I know I've made my mistakes in the past, but family is about forgiveness and acceptance, right?" Both Johannes 2 and Michelle nod.

"Of course," John muttered.

"Seriously, John," Johannes 2 finally spoke up, "She's an adult. I don't know why she ran away, but I'm sure she has her reasons. I trust Elsje. She's a smart girl who has a good head on her shoulders. What are you going to do once you find her? Put her in timeout? She's 19."

"She's my child," John said simply, "And she needs to be put in her place."

Oliver was feeling left out. "And you're okay with this, Michelle?" He challenged, inserting himself back into the conversation, "Your husband is using federal resources for a multi-state manhunt to find your adult daughter who left on her own accord. That's a gross misuse of power. Isn't it a little weird that her father is tracking her every move? She hasn't answered anyone's calls, so I assume she doesn't have her phone. Remind me how you're tracking her, John?"

"I'm not an old man, Oliver, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve," John gave him a non-answer.

Oliver opened his mouth to reply but someone knocked at the door, interrupting him. "Come in." Johannes 2 called out.

Noa and her older brother Roee came in with a tray of pastries.

"Hana made this rugelach and asked us to deliver them because you guys are burning the midnight oil," Noa said sweetly.

"They're chocolate and almond," Roee explained.

"Thanks, kids," Michelle smiled, taking one off the plate. She took a bite. "It's been so long since I've had Hana's rugelach I've forgotten what it tasted like."

"Anytime," Noa smiled back, "Now, we're off to watch a movie." She turned away.

"Catch you later, Oliver," Roee said and followed his sister out the door.

John took a piece of the rugelach as well. It was bloated and overflowing with the chocolatey filling. He bit off half the pastry in one go.

"Oliver?" Michelle offered him the plate.

He shook his head. "I'm allergic to almonds," he reminded her.

"Right. Forgot about that, sorry. More for us, then. Brother?" she asked Johannes 2.

"Just a small piece," he considered, "Hana made another batch earlier and I swear I ate half the tray." He broke off the end of one of the rugelach. Oliver watched intently as he popped it in his mouth. The moment Michelle looked away, Johannes 2 discreetly spat the piece back out into his hand and pocketed the remains. Though mildly disgusted, Oliver's interest was piqued.

Oliver watched as Michelle ate the rest of her brother's rugelach. John also took another piece for himself. "These are delicious," Michelle said.

"You'll have to come visit Rotterdam soon," Johannes 2 replied, "I'll get Hana to make you whatever flavors you like at the bakery."

Growing bored with this pastry-based conversation, Oliver glanced over at the window and saw this tall oak tree. He did a double take and realized there was a figure crouched behind it, staring into the room. It was Oren, Noa's twin brother. The boy's eyes widened and he quickly put his index finger against his lips, making this the second time Oliver was shushed tonight. He decided to listen this time. Oliver nodded minutely and began to wonder what the Yarons were up to. He was suddenly grateful to be allergic to almonds.

All of Oliver's questions were answered a moment later when Michelle slumped back in her chair. At the same time, John's head fell forward and hit the desk.

Oliver looked out the window and saw Oren giving a thumbs-up to someone in the distance. The door creaked open and Noa and Roee returned with a pair of shit-eating grins.

"Did you know that if you add enough valium into these it makes people very sleepy?" Roee asked slyly. Oliver snorted.

"We've been baking since after dinner," Noa grinned, "Oren has been listening to this room all day, and things seemed to be getting more serious."

Noa looked from John and Michelle to Oliver to Johannes 2. "We specifically picked a flavor we knew you couldn't have, Oliver, but how did you not pass out too?" Noa asked him.

"So you kids were okay with roofie-ing me?" Johannes 2 raised an eyebrow. The Yarons' faces went pale.

"Well, you weren't the main target," Noa said quickly.

"We were just okay with civilian casualties," Roee admitted.

Johannes 2 was quiet for a moment before he laughed. The loud bellowing sound filled up the room. Oliver looked over at the Yarons, confused.

Once Johannes 2 finally calmed down, he spoke up again. "I assume you put the valium into the simple syrup you coated the rugelach in after they were baked? So the pills wouldn't get denatured in the heat of the oven?"

Roee nodded. "Yeah, pretty genius, right? How did you know?"

"Just a hunch," Johannes 2 replied, "You think you're the first kids to ever spike rugelach?"

"And here we were feeling like revolutionaries," Noa grinned.

"Ella would be proud," Oliver smiled back.

"Wait, seriously, how come you didn't eat any? There's no way you knew these were adulterated," Roee pondered.

Johannes 2 shook his head. "Children, my wife has owned her own Jewish bakery for 25 years. You really think I don't know the difference between European and Israeli rugelach?" The Yarons were speechless. "I knew from the second I saw those that you made them and were trying to pass them off as my wife's. They are very well made, I will admit, but they aren't what Hana calls rugelach. If you hadn't said they were made by her, I probably would have tried one, but alas. I might be an old dog, children, but that doesn't mean I'll fall for your new tricks."

"Will you adopt me?" asked Roee.

Johannes laughed heartily and shook his head. "Oliver, make sure they're still breathing." He walked over to the two lifeless bodies and placed his index and middle fingers on each of their wrists to feel for their pulses. "While I do support your reasoning for doing this, please be careful in the future."

"They're alive," Oliver called back. Johannes 2 nodded.

Roee spoke up again. "When I was adding in the valium, I accounted for them each eating two pieces and portioned it out so two pieces would put them out for four hours."

Johannes sighed, realizing he was losing footing in this conversation. "Well, I appreciate the forethought," he said through gritted teeth, "Would I be correct in assuming this is not your first time pulling a stunt like this?" Roee nodded. "Okay. While I, again, support you in this case," he said through gritted teeth, "If I ever hear you're doing this for evil, I will deal with you accordingly. You will never do this to a young lady…or young man's," he corrects himself, "Drink. Am I clear?"

Noa and Roee looked horrified. "Of course!" Roee exclaimed, turning beet red, "I would never roofie someone like that. I've only ever done it in the context of military assignments when I needed to put my target to sleep."

"Liar," Noa snorted.

"Okay. And, I've brewed some sleepy tea for our parents before so they didn't hear me sneak out during high school," he confessed quickly, "And I did it to Danny Brooke last night because he was annoying the hell out of me."

"That's fair," Oliver considered.

"Glad to hear it," Johannes 2 nodded. "You promise me you won't use your, erm, skills for evil?"

"I promise," Roee said.

"And you, Noa?" Johannes 2 pressed.

"Hey, I was only recruited because I know how to bake. That's the only reason I was in the kitchen and Oren got to play spy," Noa waved at her twin out the window. Oren stuck his tongue out at her. "I'm actually a victim of sexism here and therefore should not be prosecuted for this crime."

"Lech tizdayen," Roee replied, "You recruited me."

Johannes 2 sighed and turned to Oliver. "All of you make me glad I only had one child. Poor Ira getting plotted against in his own home. Does anyone else know about this scheme?"

"No," the Yarons said together. Oliver glanced back out the window and saw Oren still crouched behind the tree and decided not to believe a single thing that came out of any Yarons' mouth from that point forward.

"Keep it that way. If that kitchen isn't cleaned up, I'm telling your mother what you did. And," Johannes 2 paused, "I'm keeping the rugelach."

"Ben Zona," Roee mumbled.

"My mother is not a whore," Johannes 2 replied flippantly, "Thank you kids for your help, but I need to talk to Oliver now." Noa saluted them both and dragged her brother out of the room.

Oliver and Johannes 2 exchange glances before bursting out laughing. "Are they always like this?" Johannes 2 asked.

Oliver nodded. "Loyal to a fault and lethally protective of their own."

"That's Ira for you," Johannes 2 considered, referencing their father. "But I'm glad Elsje has people like that in her corner."

"Me too."

The pair decided to carry John and Michelle into their bed. It was only the next room over, and maybe it would buy them a few moments of confusion.

Oliver watched on as Johannes 2 swiped the excess glaze from the plate of rugelach and spread it onto the inside of both John and Michelle's mouths. For the second time that day, Oliver was very glad to have an almond allergy.

They were just sneaking out of the master bedroom when they ran right into the youngest Cornells: Christopher and Lilia.

"Hey, kids," Johannes 2 greeted them quickly.

"Why were you in our parents' room?" Christopher asked. He must be nearly 16 years old now, which blew Oliver's mind. He was no longer that little boy Oliver had watched grow up.

Johannes spoke up first. "Just finishing up a conversation. They're turning in early."

"I don't believe you," Lilia said defiantly.

"Lili–" Johannes 2 started.

"Yeah. You're right," Oliver replied. Johannes 2 shot eye daggers at him, "The adults were all drinking and your parents went a little overboard. Your uncle and I drew the short straws and had to carry them home. Look here," Oliver cracked the door open to show John and Michelle sleeping, "They're fine. Just a little drunk, so if they sleep late tomorrow, that's why."

"Then why did Uncle lie?" she pressed. Christ. Growing up under Ella Cornell really did a number on this child.

"Because I didn't want to embarrass your parents," Johannes 2 spoke up, "Didn't seem like something they'd want you kids knowing, so probably best not to bring it up to them tomorrow. Your dad doesn't like to appear weak, you know." The two nodded.

"Yeah, okay," Christopher nodded.

"Can I have some rugelach?" Lilia asked sweetly, pointing at the tray in Johannes 2's hands.

"Nice try," Johannes 2 snorted, "Now go to bed."

Johannes 2 and Oliver left the Cornell cabin quickly, hoping to avoid any more interactions like that. They jogged into the woods to that old clearing where there were no cameras.

"They're smart kids," Johannes 2 noted, "Sometimes I forget that. You did a good job with them tonight."

Oliver was taken aback. "Kids, especially Cornells, know when you're lying to them. They're too old and too smart to accept bullshit, so you have to be honest with them…Or, honest enough." Oliver corrected himself.

Johannes grabbed a stick and began digging a shallow hole. "It's weird to me how you kids are all grown up now," the older man remarked, "I still remember when each and every one of you was born. My own son is 27 years old," he shook his head, "And you! Little Oliver Baker is 26! God, you look so much like your father did when we first met." he paused. "Sorry, was that out of line?"

Oliver shook his head. "It's nice to talk about him."

"Well, your father was one of my very best friends. And how he loved you. He cherished having a son and you really are his spitting image," another pause, "Do you want children, Oliver?"

"Uhh," the younger man stalled, "Honestly? I'm not sure. I'd do whatever Fenna wants, really. I love her more than anything. She'll kill me for saying this, but she's still messed up about Adriaan, and honestly, so am I. If we ever did, we'd be a lot older, I think."

Johannes 2 nodded. "You'd be a good dad." He dumped the leftover rugelach into the hole he dug and began crushing them with his heel. There's point 3 for Oilver's almond allergy.

"How do you figure?"

"Seriously?" Johannes 2 looked up, "You're great with kids. You're honest and treat Christopher and Lili like real people. And I know they're not kids anymore, but you're an amazing older brother to both Clara and Ella. You see them for who they are and always try to meet them halfway."

"Oh, it's definitely 60/40," Oliver cracked.

"Well, that's sisters for you," Johannes 2 said and his face darkened a bit. He became fixated on burying the crushed rugelach remains.

"Man, you can be honest with me," Oliver ventured, "I know you had a hand in her escape. I won't tell anyone. In fact, I've been in contact with her once since she left." He didn't need to specify who 'she' was.

"You did what?" Johannes 2 almost dropped his stick.

"I knew she was in DC with my friend Yuri. She reached out to him and he told me. I called him once her Dad found out and began tracking her and told her to get out of town. I'm not stupid," Oliver assured the older man, "It was too short to be traced and I flushed the phone immediately after.

"Noa called her too. I guess Ellie had a burner phone on hand and gave Yuri the number. He gave it to me, and Noa called from a different burner that John was closing those state borders."

"I gave Elsje that burner," Johannes 2 finally admitted.

Oliver's eyes widened. He knew it. "So what happened?"

Finished with burying the rugelach, Johannes 2 sat down on this tree stump. "My son told me about what James said to her. Said she had a pretty rough night. He and I walked by the Cornells' cabin that next morning to see how she was doing and she seemed panicked. We took a walk–out here actually–but she wouldn't talk to us."

"Is that why he went to find Noa and I?"

"Yeah," Johannes 2 clarified, filling in part of the puzzle for Oliver, "Can I assume that you know what John Cornell's real job is?" Oliver nodded. "And, can I assume that you know about Elsje's…Oy gevalt, her work experience?"

"Yeah. Noa and I are the only ones who knew…or so I thought."

"My sister told me a few years back," Johannes 2 said knowingly. "Anyway, I told her I knew and asked if she needed anything. She asked for a ride to DC, so I gave her a ride to DC. My son got left in the dark–he doesn't know anything and I'm not going to be the one to tell him. He's pretty upset I won't tell him where Elsje is."

"I noticed that," Oliver replied.

"Yeah, he's unhappy, but he'll be fine," Johannes 2 shrugged. "In the car, Elsje says she had just finished talking to her dad when I found her. I guess…wait. I love this girl like a daughter, but her life requires so much context," Johannes 2 shook his head and Oliver smiled, "Do you know who Alex is?"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "I've met him."

"Oy! Then I have some questions for you. But first, you know who his father is, right?"

"John Rider," Oliver said under his breath.

"Yeah. Leave it to Ella Cornell to find the lost son of John Rider," Johannes 2 mused. "So what's

the deal with those two, anyway? I have my opinions, of course, but I've never met the boy."

"They've known each other for a year but have only seen each other twice before last month. I tried to grill the kid on his intentions, but he deflected every single question I asked. I don't think there was anything romantic going on, but Fenna thinks he likes her."

"And what does Oliver think?"

"That it's none of my goddamn business," he paused, "I'd actually support it though. He's a good kid."

"I'm happy to hear that," Johannes 2 was quiet for a moment, "Because she went to DC to find him. I guess he does fieldwork for British Intelligence, because John sent England false information, and he was on a bullshit mission in DC. John thought Alex and Ella were getting too close, so he pulled some strings and got the boy sent to DC. He was going to send him running around in circles until after this week and then he was going to make an example out of him. She heard that and left immediately to save him."

"Shit," said Oliver, "And that's why they're on the run?" Johannes 2 nodded. "I knew there was more to the story. God, John Cornell is such a fucking control freak."

"He's a narcissistic Klootzak–asshole–" Johannes 2 corrected himself in English for Oliver's sake.

Oliver's eyes widened. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"Neither does he. I've thought this since 1996, and if you don't keep that to yourself, I will convince Fenna to leave you for someone who actually reached 6 feet tall."

"Christ, man, I can keep a secret," Oliver flinched.

"I'm glad to hear it," the two men shook hands. "Now, when all of this is behind us and Ella is back in Europe, I'd like to invite you to my home in Rotterdam. I feel like the three of us need to have a conversation."

"That would be nice," Oliver replied.

The two men stood in silence for another moment before Oliver spoke up again. "I really saw John Cornell like a father," he started, "But I'm really beginning to question that right now. What kind of father threatens to hurt their daughter's friend–and his old friend's son–like this? That's not the type of man I want to look up to."

Johannes 2 exhaled. "You'll find that Ella is having the exact same feelings right now. It's hard when your family starts behaving irrationally. You have to choose to stand by them or to save yourself. No matter what you end up deciding about John, know that I will always be in your corner."

"We don't know each other very well," Oliver stated plainly.

"And I think it's time we changed that," Johannes 2 responded, "Things appear to be reaching a breaking point, and I want Ella to know she has a group of people backing her. But that's all I'd like to say on the matter because I think we need to call Elsje now."

AN: Blah blah blah the title is yet another Catch-22 reference (please tell me any of you have read this book)

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