This is a long one guys because it is the LAST CHAPTER, you heard right, from now on this story is moving over to it's sequel Lie and Let Die that already has the first chapter up on there. This hasn't been edited, nor the first chapter on the other story because I wanted to get them up on time and both of them so bearing mind I've given you TWO WHOLE CHAPTERS! I think I deserve a little slack; not that I wont be editing them tomorrow but just sit back take it as it comes. Please do follow and favorite Lie and Let Die so I know people are continuing to read but please tell me what you think of this chapter (Lets get to 140 for this story, team power!) As well as the opening to Cammie of Cavan Part 2/ it's sequel. I promise it is going to get a hell of a lot more intense than it already is ;) I love you all, it's been two years and I've grown as a writer in that time, the first chapters are horrific compared to some of the more recent chapters and the sequel really will be more consistent, I promise.

Chapter. 23 – Bloody Coat.

Matt and Joe sat in the pristine black leather seats that were common place in any waiting room, but where they waited wasn't exactly where normality was expected when it came to chairs or anything else for that matter unless you were one who waited in this long blank white hallway often – an activity which Joe and Matt had done one more occasions than they cared to admit. The two of them stared forward without faulting as they waited for the order to enter the Directors office and neither said a word to each other; the two seats they occupied were a rather adequate representation of their friendship, so nothing more seemed to be needed to be said. It wasn't like all agents in the CIA had confrontations with the Director but Matthew Morgan and Joe Solomon were something of an exception – unfortunately it usually was an aftermath of one of their gigantic screw ups. There was, however, one exception to the silence that accompanied these visits, and it had happened twice before.

"So, you're gonna be a Dad again, huh?" Matt proffered for conversation as he slouched in his chair and turned casually to face his best friend who kept an uninterested gaze deprived of all emotion fixed forward in form of acknowledgment.

"Again? I never actually stopped being a Dad the first time." Joe informed with measured indifference. Matt's face screwed up in something of a wince of contemplating disagreement.

"Yeah, but you know what I mean, how badly are you freaking out?" Matt demanded as a tease, breaking Joe into turning towards him with a light expression of annoyance, it didn't look like much but breaking tough Joe Solomon's indifferent layer was very rarely as dramatic as one would assume. And yet Matt relished every time he succeeded purely because he found it fun.

"Matt." Joe pushed in way of telling him to stop as he proceeded to rapidly regret telling his best friend what Abby had told him at the worst time possible – but whatever, he was over that bit. Matt just beamed as he saw the impatient expression and heard the frustrated tone in Joe's voice. "You know it's different this time." Joe insisted.

"How? You're great with Krissy!" Matt defended Joe for him because he sure as hell wasn't going to do it for himself but he did honestly fail to see how someone as smart as Joe could believe he'd fail so horrifically at something he'd done before. It was illogical.

"Yeah, Abby and Krissy know what I am now; we're going to have to deal with that." Joe reminded him, slipping back somewhat into how he usually acted with the exception of those select few of which Matt was one, the first, something Matt constantly tried to exploit.

"Know what you are? Jesus, Joe; you're not a werewolf!" Matt wined but promptly sat a little straighter and looked a little more serious. "Wait, are you a werewolf?" Joe rolled his eyes and succumbed to letting his real self control his expressions which was a five second issue when it came to Matt who had now stopped chuckling and looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

"Christ." Joe collapsed into his hand in frustration, consequently breaking Matt down into even more giggle which wasn't a good moment for the Director of the CIA to swing through his door and look down his nose at the two adults who had moments before been a picture perfect representation of how his best agents should behave outside his office. Nothing was said as the two of them stood up and followed the Directors disapproving gaze to where it had turned.

The room wasn't actually the Directors office, with a suspiciously accurate number of chairs for the people needed in the room and an empty table sheltering obviously false filing cabinets – it didn't take the best two spies in the CIA to cotton onto the blatant facts that surrounded them - but they were equally smart enough to acknowledge that the location of this conversation was secondary to the conversation itself. Matt and Joe had been in this position so many times that it didn't cross their minds that they still hadn't gained that level of clearance.

To anybody else the confrontation that they settled into as they sat would appear to be completely relaxed and casual but Joe and Matt had also decided a long time ago to decide that they would assume they were good enough that none of their tension was picked up, even as the Director leaned over his desk for a moment or two and flicked his eyes between the two of them.

"Agents, I'd say I can't believe we're here again but what truly surprises me is that it's been as long as three years given your track records." The two agents he was addressing continued to stare forward with professional attention despite the fact that this insistence to meet every time they did anything noteworthy in relation to the circle was rather pointless. "You're good Agents, don't get me wrong but when it comes to the Circle of Cavan you constantly ignore the rules because you're too eager, personal reasons or not the fact that you're good Agents doesn't allow this to be glossed over it simply makes it even more alarming."

"You don't say this when we've gotten rid of a founding member." Matt only breathed it out but it founded the famous mark for the tradition of one of them failing to hold their tongue for this time round.

"That is because the successes make up for the numerous screw ups that are undoubtedly tagged to the instances Morgan but five of your own students got dragged into this."

"One of which being my daughter, Matt's as well, Director. With all due respect I'd appreciate it if you didn't insult my intelligence by suggesting I'm okay with what happened." Joe interrupted desperately catching up with the disrespect Matt had kick-started. The Director was tiresomely used to it by now so only shuffled before he impatiently carried on.

"We'll get to Cameron Morgan in a minute but it was your choice to retire into that school and the consequent responsibilities shouldn't be that hard for you to focus on." His tone really was one of someone who had little interest in the subject by this point, undoubtedly because this was probably his fifth scenario like this that week it was strange then that the Director rather liked talking to Morgan and Solomon because of the cheek they were unable to restrain. Although he'd prefer not to have occasion to talk to them, of course.

"We are not retired sir; we are specifically assigned to the case for the Circle of Cavan which is why I'm not entirely sure why you put us through this primary school detention process every time we contribute towards it. Our agreement was that we can take our own actions and alert the secret services when necessary." Matt pointed out steadily, as if the Director didn't know what he was talking about.

"I'm well aware of the agreement, Agent Morgan but I made it when I was under the impression you weren't going to be stupid about it. The return of your daughter in the matter has hindered you recently."

"The circle corrupted Cammie, but she feels very passionately about getting justice out of them now." Matt replied, steadier still as they broached the subject that he'd known this meeting would feature heavily – not that he was happy about it.

"Then she won't have a problem co-operating with us from now on then, thank you Morgan." The Director brushed over this quickly and although Matt began to protest, he stopped himself and turned his attention away with a shake of his head and an unprofessional bite of his lip to prevent himself from losing his cool, a potential problem he was used to when it came to family. The Director was aware of this, however, and that was exactly the present problem. "Apart from that, this has been one more mark on your record that I can't keep letting pass so as from this moment you are off of this mission." The Director spoke with next to no emotion – making it particularly less impressive that that was when both Matthew Morgan and Joseph Solomon started with a whirl of emotion at what their boss was daring to suggest.

"But sir, you can't!" Matt hissed with absolutely no attempt to restrain himself, Joe not being too far behind.

"Nobody knows the case like us! We've put years of our life into this, we know." The director remained unimpressed upon.

"I do but that's partly why I think we need some new eyes on the topic don't you? Besides, Solomon will need maternity leave with his wife soon anyway and Morgan, you must want to keep your attention on your recently returned daughter, rebuild bridges and all that. Give my best to Abby, Solomon, I won't be hearing much from either of you with a baby on the way for a while." The tone of his dismissal became increasingly impersonal and although there was a good hour and a half after this but point it was time that the Director had intuitively suspected and thus planned around, by the time the meeting was closed Matt and Joe were no less furiously determined than the Director was glad he could move onto his next just as exhausting task of the day.

"You're insane!" Zach had had no intention of being anything but human today, nor any of the days that were to follow, he wasn't going to be a spy or an assassin or the son of a crazy terrorist or a student he was just going to let that damn bullet wound heal so he could promptly return to being all of those things whether he enjoyed it or not. Until he'd found himself in a Gallagher Academy office with one of the most professional spies he had been aware of lying completely hammered over a generic desk neither of the people in the room were sure whom it belonged to and Zach would have probably passed off as not having an owner if it wasn't for how suspiciously lacking it was in any personal evidence at all.

"Nuh-Uh!" Townsend sat up suddenly, his suit was creased and his hair tussled, and his eyes, his eyes had gone so wide with an innocence of emotion that he looked childish past generally looking younger. "I may be a little bit tipsy, but that doesn't mean I'm not telling you the truth why would I lie?" It didn't help Townsends case that his chest was ripped with a loud hiccup midway through his sentence and he grew more and more frustrated with himself by the second but more so with Zach who was witnessing the many facts that were painting this whole conversation to seem like drunken ramblings and had no problem contemplating it as anything past that and in fact he seemed to be only a little impatiently bored. It wasn't supposed to be happening like this, Edward had practiced this conversation in his head even before he'd met Zach or known who he was, practiced it since he'd found he'd had a son that Catherine had hidden from him but slurring it at him after he'd had a bullet removed wasn't in any of his practiced scenarios.

"Because you're more than a little tipsy, Agent; give me that bottle and go to sleep." Zach really did just want to leave to be left alone where the doctors couldn't find him because if he had been any more patient he probably wouldn't have been so kind about it. He was working with an impatience he told himself wasn't born out of the buzzing worry that was normally nothing more than a jolt that he could calm down at the mention of his mother or the circle or Blackthorne, but here it was swarming around his body and pulsing so hard it couldn't be ignored for an uncomfortable ten minutes now.

"Agent." Townsend repeated like it was a knife through his heart, his eyes widening like a puppy in the rain even more, not that it had seemed possible. Zach accidently expressed how taken aback he was with the guy who he was used to being something of a superior at this school – who now was pleading through the stench of alcohol on his breath and although he was sure Tina would think it was Christmas, Zach just felt nothing but uncomfortable. "Zach you know it's true, I saw it in your eyes when I told you, look at me Zach and tell me that you believe that I'm your father!"

"Townsend, I know your mind must be completely battered right now but try and clear it enough to realise that if what you're trying to say was true then you would have had to have been with my mother, Catherine, Townsend, surely contemplating that idea can sober you up enough to through up." The surge of terror and unease that came with this general area of topic spiking up for no particular reason. Townsend just looked away from him and the childishness in his eyes glazed over with something more expected with the darkness that he usually carried with him and he spoke under his breath in reply, as if he didn't want Zach to hear.

"I thought she was different." Zach through his arms up in exasperation a little before a pain tore near where he'd been short and he carried on the same way his mother was reacting to a sudden movement at her knife wound because she had been the one to raise him and she was the one he got his damn mannerisms from.

"For Gods sake!" Was the only thing he could manage to meet Townsends intense break down of pure emotion of which pretty much everyone who knew him must have been certain he wasn't capable of. Townsend really did not want to carry on insisting this was true but he was getting into the habit of slipping past the point that it could be dismissed as a drunk mans joke.

"Zach, listen to me!" Townsend stumbled up, knocking down the half empty bottle of alcohol that dribbled and pooled over the desk, the chair he'd been wobbling on until that point crashed as he bounded round to Zach who stiffened and took half a step back but he was adequately confident enough to know he could take on an hysterical drunk man whether he was a spy in sobriety or not. Townsend grabbed onto Zach's arm with every ounce of his desperation and leant subconsciously for balance on the wall the two of them stood next to that was holding a wide mirror that was probably only there to hide something top secret.

"Look at me." He slurred and glanced at the mirror, Zach stared stubbornly forward as Townsend continued to swap his eyes between looking at Zach and the two of them in the mirror as if he could drag his son's gaze there with him. "I know you can see it, I know you know it's true you're smart Zach that's why you don't want to look and see any similarities." Zach remained unrelenting and as Townsend sloppily tried to turn Zach's head towards the mirror with the hand that had been on his arm Zach made good use of the instincts he'd been holding back by swiftly capturing the hand in a grasp tighter than anything Townsend was capable in his state who had fallen dizzily back by half a step. They were still uncomfortably close and the thumping feeling in Zach's veins was pushing the disgust he had at his mother to the surface.

"Zach." Townsend breathed, Zach found himself wanting to punch him but as Townsend looked in the mirror again, glancing between them but with a look in his eyes that showed a surrender in trying to get Zach to look he glanced himself and saw what he had been expecting. It was a little anticlimactic, perhaps Zach had been expecting more dramatic lighting of a crash of thunder but the sky outside was clear. He'd never looked like Catherine, her eyes and nothing else, but the mirror held the same hair and build and even though he'd inherited mannerisms from Catherine by being around her all the damn time there was a similarity in the way they held themselves and their features settled, a similarity in how the impact of Catherine in their lives shone with self-loathing in their eyes. Zach dragged his eyes back to the Townsend that wasn't in the mirror.

"You want me to believe you're my father? Whatever, fair enough." His tone started reasonably calm but the layers of hatred it sheltered snapped out more and more evidently as he went on, but it always remained oh so quite. "So then shame on you, because that doesn't make you my dad, it makes you horrific. You left me with her!"

"I didn't know!" Townsend pleaded, kick-starting the first rise in Zach's voice no matter how badly he wanted to remain the one with most control.

"Bollocks. It's your job to know! You're a spy! An Operative! You should have known!"

"She didn't tell me!" Townsend defended before Zach could carry on.

"When did you find out then?" Zach pushed, completely devoid of emotion in tone as a dramatic come down from seconds before despite the buzzing in his head.

"What?" It was half surprise in Zach's choice of question and half the litres of alcohol being pumped around his system that blurred his capability to understand everything at his usual rate.

"Well you had to figure it out in order for you to be pushing this conversation me." Townsend spluttered out a response immediately, his words were becoming more slurred and he stood as if on the edge of falling over.

"It's only been a few years - " It sounded like there was another hiccup building as the sentence progressed but seeing as it came to nothing as Zach let the anger run thick and stopped him from carrying that sentence to the end, he half suspected it was to stop the older man from throwing up.

"A few years that I wouldn't have to have been with her!" Townsend looked broken and as if he was about to say something until his cheeks bulged and he posed himself as if to throw up again, leaving Zach able to turn away rather determinately without any objection before he slammed the door and inhaled as much air as he biologically could.

"Zachary." Was the only thing he could muster through his lips anyway, and probably wouldn't have made any difference.

These halls were foreign to Cammie, this was not her home – not that it ever had been – but it was where she had to stay from now on, apparently there were some mother hen wrinkled Morgan's in Nebraska or something but Cammie probably should think about people like that. She was aware of how unenthused the corrections in her head were considering she had a task or retraining and rewiring herself to be suitable for the only sort of life she had a chance of using as a safety net from the fall she'd taken; although to Cammie, it felt like she was still holding onto the rope against that wall in the Circle base.

It was a rather grand old place, and once she'd taken away her determination to find a way to escape, the possibilities of the secret passage ways made her heart flutter with an operative's interest that she wasn't used to have been innocent before. Not that everything changed, and she would have felt cheated if that impression had been one Cammie had chosen to play into, thus the students here still made her skin crawl – past the point of the fact that they were so average for teenagers even if that was an opinion no one else would have dared draw with all the correct information on them. Her belief in the irritancy over them being past that point was drawn mainly because the normality when she was drowned in the awkwardness that was conversing with her blood relatives and the roommates she'd been forced to share a room with felt completely foreign but human none the less. Not that any of that was more pressing than the fact that she was realising she'd barely been human at all for a very long time.

Cammie hadn't really known where she was going although that was an ignorance she had quite been enjoying until she saw Zach Goode leaning against the doorway looking thoroughly exhausted and reasonably broken down – a stance Cam was used to seeing on people who had recently been shot at. Zach was supposed to have crutches for a week or two but even though he held at his side now, she could tell he hadn't been using them and his bandages were visible under his t-shirt, his coat had changed colours, a fact Cammie was aware of because it was her coat that had been dyed from green to Zach Goode blood. Between them lay the sword of Gillian Gallagher, an item Cam was used to hearing stories and plans over but she was considering cracking open a book or two from the Academy's library for an evenly biased background on it.

"Agent Townsend is looking for you." Cammie proffered over to him awkwardly , not entirely if he had known she'd been there but not surprised when Zach just opened his eyes and turned to her without a hint of surprise. Talking to Zach was one of the many things Cammie was sure was a normal teenage girl thing to experience, even if it was layered with the life of the daughter of two renowned spies who'd been raised as a terrorist. She didn't know how to talk to him, not after she'd treated him along with everyone else, but there was a relief in his presence under this unfamiliar roof that it had been just as unfamiliar to him, and that he'd grown up in the childhood Cammie remembered, he was the picture in Catherine's office drawer. Zach scoffed to acknowledge what she'd said and right now he looked a little crazy.

"Oh I know, he found me all right. He's crazy, I-" He shook his head and faced the way he had done before he'd acknowledged her but after biting his lip he found himself capable of giving her his attention again, Cammie walked towards him gingerly – a little guilty at how almost nothing it was that she felt towards his existence. "Did you know?"

"Yes." Cammie replied promptly and she saw his jaw jump and he looked at his shoes, he wasn't trying to hide his emotions at all, and although Cammie could tell pretty much everyone who talked to her was making a conscious effort she knew that sure as hell wasn't Zach's intentions but she'd been under the impression that he wasn't going to let her see any of that anyway. "I mean only since when you were shot. But you two-"

"Don't say it." Zach turned to her frankly as she stopped short a few steps away from him and he moved to face her, Cammie wasn't used to people cutting her off but she just raised her eyebrows as she let him carry on. "Don't tell me that I'm similar to him."

"Why because he's worse than...your mother?" Cammie pushed, choking on Catherine's name at the last moment, she'd fell from her own intentions to keep her real self away from Zach Goode and anyone else she didn't want to allow access to without realising, but that had only been a little slip of emotion, she still had a chance to rain it back.

"Because I know I should have figured it out for myself." It was Cammie's turn to scoff and roll her eyes considering how much of a damn arrogant attitude to have after finding out who your dad was. Maybe it was a Circle thing, Cammie contemplated as the smile faded, because that was an adequate response to sum how she had been – especially now, especially these last few months. Zach tried to right his posture without hurting his wound, a sign from his body language that he had every intention of changing the subject before he verbalised this. Apparently his mind immediately going to a conversation on fashion choice.

"Seriously how you wearing a tank top I know winter kicked in a while ago but it's not spring yet."

"Are you trying to insult me?" Cammie asked because genuinely she wasn't entirely sure.

"I'm not trying but I wouldn't mind if I was by chance." Zach shrugged, a sly grin creeping onto his lips as he spoke and Cammie knew he had left any realm in which he might talk about Townsend with her in.

"Well I'm sorry but it's hard to dress appropriately when you've left the only home you've thought you'd ever known to live with people you were brainwashed into hating. My wardrobe is fairly lax at the moment because It's going to take a lot more convincing for me to get in those ridiculous school uniforms." Cammie supplied just as flatly a way of making ordinary people she was used to but she doubted it had much effect on Zach even if it was something he was reasonably involved in.

"Tell me about it, when I came here it took a lot of doing to get me out of those plaid skirts." Zach replied just as flatly. Cammie smirked a little until she realised how exhausting she found it, her eyes studied the blood stains on her coat that he wore and all her effort in this conversation was done.

"I used to have a warmer jacket, but then I gave it to some guy." Zach creased his eyebrows in acted judgment on the decision as he folded his arms and remarked;

"That wasn't very smart."

"No, it probably wasn't." Cammie remarked dryly but a real smirk did escape at the last second but it fell away fairly promptly and after a split second of shuffling she carried on past him to another undetermined part of the Gallagher Academy.

"Must have been some guy." Zach called before she was too far away, Cammie span on her heal and saw that Zach had lent against the wall again, head back now and he looked considerably more tired than the average gun wound patient. Cam humoured him with a response before she left indefinitely.

"He could be, I don't know if it matters yet, besides; it looks better on you anyway."