What doesn't Kill You

Billy had gone missing.

Michael had arrived to pick him up to head to the office just like he always did in his Taurus for their commute. When he didn't answer the door, Michael's innate paranoid instincts switched on and he broke into Billy's room. What he had found chilled him, almost breaking his usually calm composure.

The place was wrecked. Saying that there were signs of a struggle was an understatement. Everything had been tossed, chairs broken, shattered glasses and dishes from what looked like last night's room service were strewn all over the floor. As Michael surveyed, his body tightened from a combination of fear and dread. He then spotted something he would have given anything not to see. Blood. Streaks of it were on the splintered coffee table. He had hoped that it wasn't Billy's, but it was clear to Michael that he had been abducted so he called his office, panic barely contained.

ChaosChaosChaos

After Forensics went through the room, gathering as much evidence as they could, including the blood, Michael, Casey and Rick began sifting through the papers and other personal effects to glean any clues. Rick felt uncomfortable at prying into Billy's life, knowing how guarded he was about his personal life, but that discomfort was leveraged by the intense need to find out what had happened to him and to get him back safely. His concern was building and growing with every hour that had passed.

"You, okay, Rick?" Michael asked.

"Yeh, yeh, I'm just..."

"I know how you feel, but we have to dig through everything, the longer Billy's missing -"

"I know, the stronger the possibility, he's..."

Michael nodded. None of the men wanted to think about that possibility, let alone say the word.

Abduction was always a grim prospect. In civilian life, the more hours and days that someone remained missing, the quicker hope dwindled of finding that person alive. In the spy game, abduction never had a good outcome. You were either a prisoner of a foreign government in which case you were disavowed and left out in the cold or killed outright. Never to be found again. Neither option was acceptable for the remaining members of the ODS so they feverishly searched, internal ticking time bombs in their heads reminding them how little time they had.

ChaosChaosChaos

The blood results had come back positive for Billy's blood type. Further DNA testing had confirmed that it was Billy's as opposed to any abductors. The news amped-up the urgency of finding him.

Nothing they had looked over had given them any hints as to who could have taken Billy or why. They then shifted their attentions to Billy's cases, but since most involved the others, it was hard to draw any conclusions that would single out Billy over them. Still, they read and examined every possible lead.

A fear then seized them. What if they couldn't find anything or anyone in the searches they had access to? That could then mean that someone deeper in Billy's life or worse yet, in his life at MI6 could be exacting revenge. If that were the case, the hope that was barely alight and struggling to stay lit as it was would practically be extinguished. Billy's past at MI6 was sealed and untying the red tape that even with cooperation would take time, would make Billy's rescue that many more days, probably weeks away, in essence signing his death warrant. It was a difficult fact to swallow so Michael, Casey and Rick, now with the assistance of Adele and Fay, both of whom cared for Billy as well, worked furiously to find any clues and initiated the process of cutting through the bureaucracy of getting information from MI6. The activity eased the anxiety of facing a grim result during the day, but when they went home to get what little sleep they could, the quiet of the evenings allowed the thought to seep into their minds and, for Rick, into his dreams. Adele had decided to stay with him when she had seen his ragged expression as well as his tired body language. He had welcomed the company and comfort. That night, he had awakened breathless and sweating from a nightmare. She wrapped her arms around him and rocked him.

"I let him down. I couldn't find him," Rick breathed while he sobbed. "I couldn't save him. I couldn't save him."

ChaosChaosChaos

Billy emerged from consciousness feeling the familiar grogginess and disorientation that comes from having been drugged. He hated to admit how familiar he was with it both from recreational use and from being at the mercy of enemy combatants. There was also the familiar pain that usually came from physical confrontation. He tried to clear the cobwebs from his mind as well as fire up any synapses that would ignite without too much strain. He lifted his head and that sent shards of pain slicing into his brain and he moaned. When he tried to straighten, he felt the restraints holding his arms to a chair, his shirtsleeves furled up past his elbows. He vaguely noticed soreness there, but by comparison to the other radiating pain throughout his body, it was barely worth noting, still, it made him look and he saw blood at the crook of his left elbow. He felt his face crinkle in curiosity, but he was too involved in trying to recall how he had ended up where he was rather than expend clearly limited mental resources to the injury on his arm. He'd have to figure that out later.

He surveyed his surroundings while he continued to engage his addled brain. As cognition started to coalesce, the pain throughout his body felt as if it was increasing exponentially so much so he sensed himself clenching and tighten in response then moaned.

"How does it feel there, Liam, aye?" Said a voice Billy thought he should know, once again his brain tried to sift through his sluggish memory recall as well as through the increasing pain.

"Do you not remember me? Well, I suppose that's understandable. It's been seven years, after all."

Billy struggled to remember and exerted his concentration on the voice, the owner just staying out of sight range as if playing some kind of guessing game with him. Seven years ago, he had been at MI6, just barely, he was about to be given the boot for his part in...then recognition finally kicked in.

"Charles?" Billy gasped.

"Right, there you go then," said the voice as the owner finally emerged from behind Billy.

"What..." Billy started to say before his voice was stolen by a spasm of pain.

"It took a bloody long time to find you, but I put that time to good use, mate. I'm not seventeen anymore and I can finally make right a wrong."

Billy's breathing was laboring through the fiery intensity of torment raging through his body.

"I can now put to rest my brother's injustice, get the justice that's due him."

Billy finally put together what Charles was telling him, but then everything spiraled out of his control as the last thing he felt and heard was his own screams.

ChaosChaosChaos

Billy had been missing a month.

Usually, most search and rescue teams would have already switched from a rescue mission to a recovery one. Michael, Casey and Rick were facing that choice, but the idea that they would have to accept failure once they did, that they had failed to rescue Billy, was unimaginable.

Higgins began to exert pressure as well as the harsh reality that whatever had happened to Billy, too much time had passed, that they had to face the fact that he was probably dead and that they had to go on, that there were other missions that needed to be accomplished. Though they couldn't argue against the logic, their emotions resisted the acceptance.

"You don't think..." Rick said.

"No, I don't. Billy was taken against his will and fought and he fought hard. Only way anyone could get the drop on him would be through some kind of other intervention," Casey analyzed.

"Intervention?" Rick asked.

"Like being drugged," Michael filled in.

"Yeh and if killing Billy was their intent, we would have found him dead."

"It's been a month, it's possible -" Rick said, not wanting to play devil's advocate, but was in need of some reverse logic to keep him from falling into despair.

"Since when did I become the cheerleader here? That's YOUR job, Martinez. Stop slacking and making me do your work for you. I'm just laying out the facts for you. If this were about the CIA, about us, or anything professional, we would have heard intel about it. This was personal."

"You mean revenge?" Rick asked.

"Probably, though I have no idea how we're going to find out who snatched Billy, what I do know is Billy doesn't know how to surrender so until I see a body, I'm not giving up on finding him even if it means doing it on my off hours,"

Michael couldn't help but smile. Casey would never say anything flowery or sentimental, but he would fight to the death anything that came between him and people he cared about. Over the six years that Billy had been with them, Casey had bonded with the Scotsman sooner than Casey would ever admit. Billy had more than proven himself to him, which was no simple task for a naturally distrustful type that Casey was. For a man who worked for the government, there was not a more disdainful, unrepentantly mankind adverse man than Casey Malick yet he would sacrifice his life for any of them without hesitation. There was no truer example of cognitive dissidence than he was, all the more the accomplishment that Billy had achieved such respect from Casey.

"We on the same page?" Michael asked.

Rick nodded.

"All right then, let's find Billy."

ChaosChaosChaos

Billy awoke feeling completely wasted. He felt stripped clean of his skin, his organs aflame with pain. He vaguely remembered what had happened and seeing Charles was like being Scrooge facing his own version of Marley's ghost. The difference was he knew his purpose and the visitation was not about warning him that if he continued on his life's path, he would pay a cost greater than he could ever know. That had already happened to Billy. No, Charles was there to avenge his brother, a brother that everyone but Billy, believed had died a wrongful death, a death that Charles felt Billy was directly responsible for. Billy knew the truth, but he would fail to convince anyone that it had been Charles's brother, Johnny, who had betrayed his country and whose actions had forced Billy to take the fall for it. The choice had cost him his career and his country. His only regret was that he could never go home again, to live there again, but he had created a new life in the CIA with friends who had his back. He had gained, by far, so much more than he had lost.

Still, his past had caught up to him again and he knew that he would have to pay the price for the lie he had created. He could pay for it with his life, but he had accomplished six years of quality work with exemplary men with hearts of heroes and he would never give any of those years back to return to MI6 so he would die without regret. If he had a philosophy of life, it was that he had believed that things happened for a reason and he knew it to be true in his case. What had happened to him seven years ago, the decisions he had made then had all brought him to this point in his life and he was truly grateful for the second chance he had been given being with the ODS. He would die satisfied he had done good work, hero's work.

He lifted his head up and trailed up the body of the man he regretted hurting the most. Charles had only been seventeen when his brother had died and he had idolized and romanticized his brother. Johnny had not started out as a traitor. He had come to MI6 with the same idealized notion that Billy had about the work, but along the way, not unlike Carson, he had grown disillusioned and what was once friendship had turned into bitter rivalry. Johnny had become reckless and for every credit Billy received, it had only fueled the resentment Johnny had felt for him. Billy's efforts to reach out were dismissed and his overtures ignored. Johnny's zeal would be his downfall, but it would also be Billy's fall from grace. Now he was witness to yet another life damaged in Johnny's wake.

"So, how are you feeling?" Charles asked his voice filled with contempt.

"Bloody brilliant," Billy moaned as he looked at the track marks on the crook of his elbow. "I see that you've been dosing me. How considerate of you?"

"Still the same Liam, or Billy is it, now? Left your homeland behind, have ya?"

"If memory serves, I was given the boot," Billy said as he groaned through pain.

"For killing my brother," Charles said his voice strained with venomous intent.

Billy cringed with the pain and the accusation. He didn't blame Charles. He didn't know the truth and he wasn't willing to destroy his belief to save his life. Besides, he knew Charles would never believe him.

"Johnny gave me no choice," Billy said more sadly than accusingly.

"You had a choice, Liam!" Charles yelled.

"So do you, mate. Is this how you want to honor your brother? With revenge?"

Charles punched Billy across the face. Billy grimaced. When he recovered, he saw that Charles had a hypodermic and he knew what was coming.

"Don't tell me how to honor him! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have just his memory."

Billy watched as Charles held his upper arm and injected the fluid into his vein, helpless to stop him. He felt the jab, knowing that the painfulness of the injection had been deliberate. Once done, Charles stepped away.

"So, mind telling me what you're giving me? I mean, I've had my share of controlled substances, but this, this is quite the unique one," Billy said feeling the effects beginning immediately.

"It's my own formulation," Charles said proudly. "You see, I became a chemist, yeh? I tried joining MI6, but couldn't pass the psychological profile."

Billy had a come back, but he knew it would be a pointless jibe. It would only drive Charles further to the edge of the madness already driven by years of anger and lingering grief, grief that he knew he had caused, of that, there was no denying.

"What you're feeling is only going to get worse for each shot I give ya. You'll be begging me for mercy in time."

Billy felt the pain rising and he started to pant and moan, but mixed with it was a feeble laugh.

"You'll be waiting a mighty long time there, lad."

"If you're hoping that your mates'll be coming for ya, you better think again. They haven't got a clue where to find ya."

Billy's laughter then became more boisterous. He wondered if the drug Charles was giving him was also turning him a bit mad as well.

"You don't know anything about my mates, Charles. They're the best in the business and they'll find me," Billy said with a certainty that made him feel proud to be counted as their friend. There was no threat in the statement just a simple expression of fact.

"You'll be dead by then."

"I'm not afraid of dying, Charles," Billy said, his voice weak and shaky with pain.

Charles heard the soft acceptance in Billy's voice and it sobered him a little.

"There was a time when I would have gladly died in your brother's place...some days, I still wish I had...we were mates, yeh? You know that and even before...even after...I would have taken a bullet for him...I know you don't believe it and being Johnny's brother, it's understandable that you wouldn't...I can't hold that against ya, but I know it to be true."

Charles had expected to feel a lot of things when this moment came. He had expected hate, resentment and revenge, but never sympathy for the man he had blamed for his brother's death for seven years. He had known Billy as a teenager and he had always seemed a friend, even a brother to both him and Johnny, but when his brother had died at his hand, everything had changed.

"You killed my brother and I've been waiting seven years to make it right," Charles said his conviction wavering.

"Do what you must, Charles, but I guarantee, you will gain no peace from killing me. You will not hear me beg for my life. I don't have the right to ask it of ya. Only you have the power to spare it."

Billy clenched in agonized torment and his body felt as if it were slowly being eaten away as if there was acid running through his veins.

"Bloody hell..." he uttered.

Charles watched Billy's suffering and suddenly the satisfaction didn't feel that fulfilling anymore.

ChaosChaosChaos

Bureaucracy was king in government run agencies and whether it was a chair, desk or dossier, it took going through a seemingly insurmountable amount of red tape to get what you needed. Adele and Fay had worked their administrative magic on the system and were able to get Billy's sealed dossier from MI6. It had only taken days versus weeks thanks to them, but still, those lost days were more days that Billy was at the hands of some psychopath. All of them felt the pressure, but also the determination to find Billy.

Michael, Casey and Rick had poured over all of the information and for the first time they had learned what had happened to Billy before he had come to the CIA and the ODS. They had learned what had destroyed Billy's career at least on paper, but as they read the reports that had portrayed him as insubordinate and as someone who had killed a fellow MI6 agent, they knew that the Billy they knew and worked with wasn't capable of betraying his country or a fellow operative. It all felt wrong. It raised red flags and they were bound and determined to exonerate Billy because clearly no one had bothered to defend him at home.

"This smells of conspiracy to me," Casey said. "Billy was a fall guy. No doubt about it."

"I agree. Something just doesn't add up here," Rick said.

"We've gotta interview these people again," Michael said. "Especially the brother of the agent Billy killed, Charles McKinney. Depending on his relationship with his brother, if this was personal, he'd have the best motive to hold a grudge all these years. He was seventeen when John McKinney was killed. That's a pretty impressionable age to lose a brother."

Casey and Rick nodded in agreement. The days were ticking by quickly which meant that many fewer days for Billy's survival. A month and counting and it made them all worried and nervous.

ChaosChaosChaos

Billy didn't know what day it was or how long he had been in captivity. All he knew was pain, excruciating, almost continuous, pain the least of it came through as a dull ache that flared into tearing and fiery torment, the worst of it coming as an acidic inferno burning his insides, Charles's compound rushing through his veins setting everything on fire in its wake as it moved through his body, to his heart, his lungs and other organs.

Charles sat and watched. The incendiary rage he had felt for so long was suddenly tempered at watching Billy's suffering. Billy hadn't solicited any mercy from him, hadn't asked for forgiveness, and had only expressed regret for the past. It hadn't been what he had expected at all. As he listened to Billy's ragged breathing, he thought about what he had said.

"I'm not afraid of dying, Charles."

"You will not hear me beg for my life. I don't have the right to ask it of you. Only you have the power to spare it."

Billy felt Charles's conflict and didn't begrudge him his own suffering. After talking with him, Charles had stopped injecting his solution into him, but Billy feared that the damage had probably already been done if how he was feeling was any indication.

Billy couldn't escape the cold hard facts of the past. He had killed one of his own, Charles's brother. The reasons were irrelevant and didn't change that fact. It would be the scar that would never fully heal, that he would wear until his death, which felt precariously close at that moment. He felt compelled to give Charles as much closure as he could give him in case he didn't make it.

"Ch...Charles...I'm sorry that my actions took your brother from y...you...of that I will have regret for the rest of my days...but...y...you still have a chance. I see in it your eyes..." Billy moaned. "I know you have doubts...Johnny was a good man...but he lost his way... and that's where you are, mate...j...just lost...doesn't mean you have to stay that way..."

Billy felt his world greying and taking a breath was getting more difficult. Charles saw Billy's pained and sincere expression and the rage of loss had started to ease and seeing his suffering gave him a pang of guilt that again, he wasn't expecting to feel. He had expected Billy to act defiant, accost his brother's memory and tell him that he had deserved what had happened to him, that would have made killing him simpler, easier to rationalize, but Billy hadn't done any of that. He had given him sincere regret for his actions. He didn't even blame his brother or his country for his ouster instead, Charles heard Billy plead to his humanity. He was giving him the benefit of a chance to show it, not to save his own life, but to save Charles's life, by giving him the opportunity to show mercy and he had. He could no longer inject Billy with the poison he had created, but he wondered if the sudden rush of conscience would be too late to save Billy.

Charles then stood up and walked over with the intent to free Billy.

Suddenly there was a thundering sound and footsteps rushing towards the room. Charles grabbed his gun and readied himself, the spell of compassion seemingly broken. The noise snapped Billy out from his fading consciousness back to awareness. He knew immediately what was happening and had to stop his friends from hurting Charles.

"Charles, untie me. Those are my mates. I can stop them," Billy asked hurriedly, grimacing and grunting, his tenuous hold on consciousness slipping quickly.

Charles hesitated.

"Hurry, Charles. I promise no harm will come to ya, but they need to see me freed. Please let me help ya. You have my word," Billy pleaded, the anxiety of saving his friends as well as Charles was accelerating the pain and making breathing that much more difficult, but his determination was resolute.

Charles calmed and knew that Billy would never betray him. It was such a contradiction to how he had always thought of Billy. He had always seen him as a betrayer, as the man who had killed his brother, but suddenly not anymore. He released Billy from his bonds just as his friends stormed the room.

"Stop! D…Don't," Billy said, pain stoking up into full fire again as he rose from his chair, the overwhelming pain threatening to subdue him. "Charles means no harm, mates. Drop your gun, Charles. It's all right. He won't fight ya, trust me."

Charles dropped his gun. Michael, Casey and Rick stood down as well. Billy then couldn't hold himself up any longer and slowly began to drop to his knees, groaning on the way down. Rick ran to catch his fall and eased him to the ground. Billy had lost consciousness and Rick called for EMS on his comlink, surprised at how panicked he had sounded.

Casey pulled Charles's arms behind him to restrain him.

"He killed my brother," Charles said more sadly rather than angrily.

"He had no choice. Your brother drew on Billy because he had confronted him about being a double agent," Michael explained. "Something you didn't know but need to know is that rather than have your brother's reputation ruined and if I know Billy it was more about sparing you and your family the ridicule, Billy took the fall for him. He got deported for his efforts and now he could die. You took revenge for nothing and on the wrong man."

Charles listened and was overcome with emotion. Suddenly he was just a misguided twenty-three year-old who'd been living with a lie or half-truths for seven years. He didn't have to rationalize that they were lying to him. Somewhere inside of him, he knew they weren't. If Billy trusted them, he knew he could too.

"I'm sorry, I…I have been living a lie all along. I understand that now."

"Don't be sorry, just tell us what you did to him so we can save him," Casey said tightening his hold out of residual anger.

"Of course, but…" Charles said, his expression grim and guilt-ridden.

"But what?" Michael asked.

"It may be too late…the damage may be too extensive," Charles said with genuine sadness.

Casey tightened his hold again.

"You better hope that Billy finds a way to survive because I'm not a bleeding heart like he is or as forgiving."

He walked Charles out of the room as Rick cradled Billy until EMS arrived, his body deathly still and his breathing catching unevenly. Michael found himself uncharacteristically relieved and worried simultaneously. Rick looked up, sadness on his face, but it was more than about Billy's condition. Michael caught it and understood.

ChaosChaosChaos

Saying that Billy was in bad shape was an understatement. When Charles had revealed his "cocktail" of chemicals, the doctors had been amazed that Billy was still alive. Michael, Casey and Rick weren't surprised, just concerned that Billy staying alive would be more difficult to achieve. Charles had been cooperating and seemed truly contrite. The three men had marveled that Billy could talk down someone who had devoted so much time nurturing vengeance as well as so much attention to detail to accomplishing killing him. Seven years of pent up revenge had been diffused by what they knew to be Billy's compassion. He had stopped them from hurting Charles and had told him to disarm himself. It wasn't a far stretch that Billy had somehow reached the young man, made him see that the hate he had been harboring would never come to any good.

Charles had clearly not known the whole truth about his brother and when they had told him what Billy had done, the shock of the misunderstanding had left him sorrowful. Though he had offered his help, he had admitted that his sole intent with the chemical concoction was to kill Billy slowly and painfully and that he had never considered creating an antidote, but he had surrendered himself to the authorities without struggle, cooperated as much as he could and took responsibility for his actions.

All that didn't salve the ache that afflicted all the men of the ODS as they took vigil over Billy as he healed or hoped that he would heal.

There was another ache that weighed over them.

While trying to figure out how to find Billy and having learned about his past in the process, they had managed to straighten out Billy's misunderstanding with the British Government in a rare moment of interagency cooperation. Though they had felt triumph over the achievement, a feeling of selfishness had settled over them from it.

"Do you think he'll go back?" Rick asked, almost afraid to voice it aloud.

"Of course, he'll go back. Wouldn't you? It's his home. Even I can relate to that," Casey said brusquely.

"I guess, but I'd…we'd miss him," Rick said with poignant wistfulness.

"Sentimental drivel like that has no place in the CIA, Martinez. We have to respect what Billy wants and in the end, no matter how much he may like us, he's getting an 'all is forgiven' from his government. You don't just throw that away."

"Even after they just booted him out without giving him the benefit of a doubt, without taking into consideration all of his faithful service? Frankly, I'd be pretty p.o.'ed."

"Admit it, if it meant going back to your family, having everything that had been taken from you back, wouldn't you overlook all that?" Casey asked.

Rick paused and had to grudgingly admit to himself that if he had been disavowed then given a pass back, he'd take it immediately without protest. He would have missed his family and would have agreed to any conditions in order to come back and be with them again. It was selfish to think that Billy wouldn't feel the same.

"Yeh, yeh, I guess I would," Rick admitted then gave Casey a look.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just a little unnerving hearing you argue for family and forgiveness," Rick said with a small crack of a smile.

"Contrary to my reputation as the human weapon, I'm not without feelings. I just choose to keep them to myself most of the time," Casey dodged, trying to sound defensive, but failing to be convincing.

"Right," Rick said doubtfully.

Rick knew that the cracks to Casey's seemingly impenetrable façade could be found in his dogged steadfastness to the team. It was with each of them and only them, that he would make such concessions to concern and caring.

Michael looked at Billy through the trauma ICU glass and felt an ache in his chest that he hadn't felt since Fay had asked him for a divorce.

"Michael? You okay?" Rick asked.

"You know, it took a long time for me to trust him because I thought he was someone Higgins was trying to unload on us, just like I thought that about you. You thought you were special. I'm like that with everyone. Looking back, I can't believe that I didn't see his loyalty immediately. Some spy I am. That loyalty and commitment was in his posture, on his face, in the very first act he did on his first mission with us. I am a paranoid bastard, emphasis on bastard. He has every reason to leave," Michael said, his voice thick with emotion.

He then walked away.

Casey watched him leave.

"You know, Michael is the first to admit that he's a paranoid bastard, but that mental state is just as much about protecting us as it is something that takes away from him. It's what makes him a leader I would go to hell and back for. I still think guilt is a pitiful waste of energy, but I know that he'd rather see Billy leaving us under his own power than in a box and right now, I don't think…" Casey stopped, swallowed back his emotion.

As much as Casey prided himself on being unflinchingly blunt without apology even he found it difficult to think of Billy as a lost cause, that they would have to carry his body back in a box and escort it to Scotland for a proper hero's burial. He couldn't even express that thought aloud to Rick, but he didn't have to. Rick saw it in his eyes and had felt the same pain.

ChaosChaosChaos

The doctors had performed extensive tests. MRIs and CT scans were done to determine what damage, if any, had been caused by the chemicals that Charles had injected into Billy.

The good news was there didn't seem to be any permanent damage that they could detect. The bad news was that Billy was still unconscious and though his vitals were holding for now, there was cause for concern as fluctuations in the numbers the machines were telling them as well as the numbers they got back from blood tests told them that Billy hadn't escaped unscathed. It was all up to him now. The more time given to him to heal, there was still a chance he would recover so they would monitor closely and make any adjustments necessary to the medications they were giving him to maximize those chances.

It was all cold comfort.

Billy was going to be unconscious for the foreseeable future. That's what it came down to and the longer he was out, the greater the possibility that there would be a whole slew of other complications that would hinder his recovery if not kill him outright.

It made Rick sick to his stomach and he had to leave. He went back to the office and asked Adele if he could talk to Charles. She had understood and had arranged it.

Charles was put into a room, shackled to a stainless steel desk that was bolted to the ground. Rick walked in and sat opposite him.

At first, there was nothing but silence. Rick didn't know what to say. Charles saw the look on his face and could feel the resentment there.

"So, you're one of Liam's mates here, aye?"

"Billy," Rick said coldly. "He's Billy to us."

"Right. Sorry. Old habits –"

"Why?" Rick blurted out. "I mean, I know why, I guess but –"

"Hate. Simple as that, mate. I harbored that hate for seven years. Let it fester real good, yeh? All I knew was that he had killed my brother, someone he had treated like a brother. He had treated me like a brother –"

"And that should have been your first clue. Billy could never do that to someone he felt that way about, not without a good reason. I've only know him for seven months and I know that as sure I know that he could die because of what you did to him."

Charles hung his head down. He laced his hands together and squeezed them.

"Yeh, I know and I'm sorry about that now. Li- I mean, Billy showed me how wrong I'd been. I was only seventeen when Johnny was killed and Billy never explained, he just left us like Johnny had so I just thought he had betrayed him, betrayed me…when you're a young lad and your only role models were two men you thought were James Bond and they both left ya one way or t'other, the loneliness was unbearable so the hate was easy to grasp."

Charles put his hands into his face, looking truly upset. When he looked up, his eyes were red and tears stained his face. Rick softened at the expression and realized that Charles wasn't a maniacal killer, just a grief-stricken man.

"Billy couldn't tell you the truth. He knew that what your brother did would hurt you and your family so he took the fall to spare you then when he was ordered deported, the records were sealed and he was sworn to secrecy," Rick explained.

Charles nodded.

"I expected him to be arrogant, you know? Proud of what he had done to Johnny. It would have made killing him worth it, easier, that even if I had gotten caught or killed, I had secured vengeance for my brother and I would have had satisfaction," Charles said, his voice laced with regret. "I wasn't expecting him to say…that he was sorry for what he had done, that he had regrets…then he said that he knew I wasn't a killer, that there was still a chance for me…I…"

Charles took in a breath to quell his trembling voice.

"When he told me he wasn't afraid to die, that I had the choice to save him or not…I realized that he was absolving me. After all I had done to him, he was absolving me and suddenly the hate just left me in a rush, but by then…Mother of God what have I done?"

Rick marveled at Billy's ability to see the good in people, in mankind. Billy would joke with Casey about how he was the yin to Billy's yang. He was also amazed at Billy's talent for reaching to the heart of people, no matter how distraught. Rick knew there was evil that couldn't be salvaged for some people. Billy did too, but he needed proof before he would completely count anyone as a total lost cause.

Clearly, he had reached Charles, but he may have been the last benefactor of Billy's mercy and that hurt Rick.

He then felt his cell phone vibrate. He stepped away from the table and took out his phone. On the screen was:

Billy is regaining conscious. Come back now.

"What? What is it?" Charles asked.

Rick turned around.

"Billy's waking up."

"Thanks be to God," Charles said, but then his expression changed again. "There's something you should know."

A cold chill ran up Rick's spine.

ChaosChaosChaos

Rick rushed back to the hospital when he had gotten the text. By the time he had gotten there, he had found Michael and Casey huddled around the ICU observation glass, hope and concern on their faces. Rick had hope as well, but it had been tempered by what Charles had told him just before he had left.

"How is he?" Rick asked, wanting to get as much information from them before he shared his.

"Billy started coming out of unconsciousness and began choking on the ventilator. They sedated him so that they could remove it. They just finished and he's breathing on his own now," Michael related, optimism clearly in his voice. "It may take a while for him to wake up again. The doctors are going to run some tests to see how Billy is…"

Michael's rare optimistic moment then faded a bit.

"What? What is it?" Rick asked, afraid himself now.

"The doctors are worried about the pain he's still having. They don't know the source, but they think the drug he was injected with may have damaged his nerves. Pain meds are keeping it under control, but unless those nerves heal –"

"He'll be in pain for the rest of his life," Rick finished.

"Yeh. What worries me though is if it's bad…" Michael said, but again couldn't finish.

"That he won't be able to be an operative anymore," Rick finished again then faded into his own introspective moment. "That might not be the only thing that could stop him."

Michael and Casey turned to Rick.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked.

"I went to see Charles. I needed to understand why and to get some answers."

"Well, did you?" Casey asked.

"Yeh, I got both," Rick affirmed, but his expression showed that he knew more.

"Well, don't keep us in suspense, Martinez. What did McKinney have to say?" Casey pressed irritably.

"He told me that the drug might affect Billy's brain, that he might not remember –"

"Us," this time Michael finished.

"Or more," Rick said, fear and sadness in his voice.

"Brain damage?" Michael asked, a small look of shock on his face.

Rick nodded. All three men then turned their attentions back to Billy. Now off of the ventilator, he looked almost peaceful, but mystery and trepidation still hovered over Billy's survival. All of them could handle a physical disability, would be reassured that Billy could overcome just about any setback like that, but brain damage, whether it was memory loss or worse coupled with nerve damage that could leave him incapable of overcoming crippling pain, that was something even their able bodied determination would find difficult to defeat. The thought was daunting, but they knew that they wouldn't leave Billy's side nor would it change their commitment to him.

They watched and kept hoping because it would be what Billy would do for them.

Once Billy was settled and the tests done, an MRI on his brain among them after Rick had told the doctors about the possibility, they had returned to their vigils. They didn't want Billy to wake up alone, even if he didn't recognize them or something worse.

Rick watched Billy sleep and it all seemed so deceiving the tranquility on his face. The soft rise and fall of Billy's chest, without the help of the respirator, was probably less reassuring than Rick was giving it credit for being, but clinging to it helped him.

He was no longer angry with Charles. Not for the same reasons anyway. After meeting him, seeing the regret in both his body and voice, Rick could only feel sorry for the misguidedness of his actions now. Something he was sure Billy had seen and had used to help save Charles and the rest of them. Still, there was anger and he was surprised by the reason why he was angry now. Of course he was angry that Charles had injected a poisonous substance into Billy's veins and that the damage from that even now could be killing Billy, but it was more than that.

He was angry with Billy.

He was irritated that Billy didn't even try to explain to Charles about what had happened to his brother seven years ago. Rick knew that he was being a hypocrite. If anyone was as asinine about being by the book, it was he, so it shouldn't have bothered him that Billy had followed the rules and hadn't explained to Charles, because he had been bound by protocol not to, but it did bother Rick. If Billy had just chosen to break the rules even just bend them a little, Charles wouldn't have grown up hating him and poisoning him seven years later.

It was irrational. Rick knew it and he knew that the anger would pass, but for that moment, he had to blame someone, be angry with someone because it seemed even more irrational that Billy could be dying from something they had nothing to offer as a cure. Still, it was typical of Billy to spare someone pain and take on all the abuse and blame that came with making, in Rick's mind, a patriotic choice.

It was all up to Billy now and even though his body was healing, it didn't mean he would ever be the same. Only by waking up could he tell them if he was going to be the same Billy they knew. The odds were so stacked up against him everywhere Rick looked. Even if Billy survived, it was possible he would never wake up. Even if he woke up, it was possible he would be in perpetual pain for life. Even if he woke up and was in pain, he might not remember anything.

So Rick just watched and waited.

He then saw Billy's body twitch and arch ever so slightly then a moan emanated. Rick saw his fists clench. Clearly, Billy was in pain and it hurt to see that even in semi-consciousness, he couldn't escape it.

Rick saw Billy's eyes flutter open, heard his breathing change to a pant. Rick stood up and tried to catch his line of sight.

Billy caught it. His face was lined with pain and something else that made Rick stiffen. Confusion.

"Hey, hey, you're okay," Rick assured as he put a hand on his friend's chest.

Billy sensed Rick's calming presence and relaxed as much as the pain he was feeling would let him.

"Who are ya?"

TBC. Thanks for reading! Hope you'll enjoy the rest.