Title: Repercussions

Author: FraidyCat

Disclaimer: Don't blame it on me.

Summary: Another Janus tag, because I must.

DON P.O.V.

The repercussions were astronomical.

Every last case that Granger's name had been connected to would be challenged. Attorneys would already be lining up, trying to get their clients' cases thrown out of court. For those already in prison, there would be demands to release them, and lawsuits claiming false arrest. For the foreseeable future -- well past the end of his own career, probably -- the team would have no time to do anything except reinvestigate closed cases and appear in court defending their earlier actions. Over. And Over. And Over.

Exactly the part of his job he hated the most. He craved the action, the bust; and he barely tolerated the paperwork and the legalities. Thanks. Thanks one hell of a lot, Colby.

Now that he really needed a shrink, Don would be chained to his desk or a witness chair all day long, and unable to see Dr. Bradford. Which was a shame, because he really wanted to ask him how the hell he was supposed to trust anyone on his team again. Megan had come back from her mysterious absence full of secrets and angst, even before Granger's cover was blown. Sinclair was destroyed when his partner became a stranger. Neither one of them could be trusted to watch his back, anymore. And Liz? At least it wasn't a question of trust, with her -- at least Don didn't think so -- but he knew she shouldn't be watching it in the first place. There was a reason agents on the same team weren't supposed to sleep together.

He sat silently on the couch at his brother's house, a black cloud hanging over his head that he had to learn to live with, somehow. It was going to be there forever.

ALAN P.O.V.

The repercussions were astronomical.

He stared unseeing at his hands in his lap, and knew he should probably say something. Neither one of the boys was talking, and that was not a good sign.

All he seemed to be able to do, though, was remember last Thanksgiving.

The entire team had been there, along with Amita and Millie. Larry had been hovering somewhere over the house, Colby had joked. Alan could still taste the surprisingly good pumpkin pie the young man had brought. He had made it with eggnog, a recipe he got from his mother. Alan had enjoyed it so much, he had almost begged Colby to share. Granger had just laughed and claimed it was a "family secret", and also his insurance for future Thanksgiving invitations to Casa Eppes.

There would be no eggnog in the pumpkin pie, this year. Federal justice for spies was strict, and swift. There might not even be a Colby Granger by Thanksgiving of this year. Alan shuddered as the thought crossed his mind. He felt vaguely guilty as he wondered if Don would be angry if he sent the man a batch of his favorite oatmeal cookies in prison.

Shit.

He felt disturbingly as if he was losing one of his sons.

CHARLIE P.O.V.

The repercussions were astronomical.

Astromomical in a way that even Larry would appreciate, post-space.

Charlie was in a state of denial, and having a difficult time hiding it from his brother. He felt badly for Don. Extremely badly. His sympathies extended to Megan, and David...but he was having an impossible time expressing that sympathy. The mind that was the talk of an entire generation just could not wrap itself around this. It was not possible that this had happened.

Colby was his friend, a converted sinner who used to make fun of him but had grown to brag about his "Whiz Kid" to anyone who dared showed disrespect. Colby picked Charlie's scrawny little butt for his flag football team in the park last winter. Once -- and Don did not even know this -- he and Colby had gotten drunk together after a particularly nasty case that ended badly for everyone.

None of this made sense, the way that the numbers always did. Charlie had been wrong to take his attention away from the numbers. They had never failed him, they had always embraced him. They could be counted on, at all times, to do what they were supposed to.

God, he wanted a piece of chalk.

COLBY'S P.O.V.

The repercussions were astronomical.

He sat in the tiny cell and felt like...well, he felt like what he was. A traitor.

He could still see the tears shining in David's eyes, the anger flashing in Don's, the despair that flared in Megan's. He had never meant for this to happen. It was not supposed to be this way.

They had promised him.

He hadn't even seen the Whiz Kid since it all came down. Colby had been whisked off to federal lock-up in the back of a squad car before Charlie got back to the bullpen. He hoped the kid was all-right. He wasn't trained, and hardened, like the rest of them. Not that anybody could be ready for a thing like this.

He stared at the paper shoes on his feet and would have given anything for a pair of shoelaces, or a razor blade, or a sharp knife, or some cyanide. Something. Anything. Damn.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

He banged his head solidly and slowly against the wall.

They had promised him.