The moment Jared threw the door open to Brenton's study, he heard movement – the sharp scrape of a chair, a grunt of annoyance – and his eyes found Brenton instantly. His father had been turned away from the door, gazing out the window with a book in his lap.

"Evans!" Brenton snapped, spinning around. "Didn't I tell you not to let anyone –"

Brenton cut off the moment he saw who, exactly, was standing in his doorway and the lecture fled his lips and left his mouth hanging open instead.

Brenton had hollowed out since Jared had last seen him, the skin pulling sharply against bone, casting his face into sharp plains and shadows. It made an unwanted pang of homesickness rip through Jared's chest, of loss without knowing what exactly he was missing.

Jared waited, hoping Brenton would recover himself enough to speak first, but it quickly became obvious he wasn't going to, and Jared swallowed down the dryness that had entered his throat.

"You look surprised to see me," he said eventually, his voice scratchy.

For a long time, Brenton just continued to stare, the silence between them stretching and twisting uncomfortably.

"I am," Brenton said, and he stood up slowly, placing the book he'd been holding down onto his desk, his eyes only leaving Jared's for a second to take in Tai and Marco, to notice the handcuffs around their wrists.

There was something in his expression Jared had never seen there before. It was an almost sickened relief, a strangled, surprised hope. Jared was surprised at how flat it made him feel.

"Where have you been?" Brenton asked. "You've been gone for weeks."

Jared swallowed down the emptiness that was rising within him and tried to colour his voice with emotions. If this was going to work, he had to play his part right.

"I've been with the S.I.S," Jared said, faintly relieved when he heard a familiar conceit enter his voice. "They took me hostage after Parker tried to kill me."

Brenton's Adams apple bobbed up and down, and Jared tried not to let it bother him. He knew his father well enough to recognise his signs of discomfort.

"We thought you'd turned against us," Brenton said.

"Of course, you did. You haven't trusted me ever since I brought Leah back, have you? Why else send your second in command to kill me?"

Something shifted in Brenton's face at that. Nothing in it moved, not exactly, but something happened, like rocks shifting at the bottom of the ocean, sending surges to the surface.

"No," Brenton said softly. "No. I didn't send him. I never would have. Surely you know that."

When Jared didn't reply, Brenton took a step forward.

"Surely you know that, Jared," Brenton repeated, the words more urgent now, demanding and desperate.

Jared stared at him for a moment longer before he sighed.

"Yeah, I do," he admitted.

Brenton relaxed slightly, and Jared felt an overwhelming urge to leave it there. To go back to who he'd been before; to the naive, blind mess he'd let his father turn him into.

But even as he cherished that thought, he felt his throat moving, heard himself speaking.

"Even you aren't ruthless enough to hand out a death sentence to someone who can't die."

For a moment, his words hung in the air, their weight heavy enough to silence everything, but then Brenton jerked, a choked noise wrenching up his throat as if it had been pulled from his guts by a rope.

"What did you just say?" Brenton asked.

When Jared didn't reply, Brenton just continued to stare, his face paling until he was deathly white.

"Jared –"

"Were you ever going to tell me I'm immortal?" Jared cut in, his voice unstable. "Or were you just going to wait until the entire world was dead and let me figure it out myself?"

"No!" Brenton exclaimed, and it was only when Jared saw the fear in his father's eyes that he realised he was shaking, his body vibrating like a live wire. "No, of course not. I was always going to tell you. You have to understand that I didn't want this. I never wanted it to be you. If I could've taken your place, I would've."

Jared held up a hand and Brenton cut off.

For the first time in his life, Jared could see the nerves under Brenton's skin. The complete panic that one of his plans might be spinning out of control – properly, devastatingly out of control.

"Don't try to rationalise what you did to me," Jared said softly. "I've spent the last two weeks doing that myself."

Brenton swallowed hard, panic and guilt flooding his face.

"How did you find out?" he asked.

"Parker shot me, that's how. I was already dead by the time the S.I.S arrived and killed him."

Brenton's eyes flickered to Tai and Marco again, and Jared saw the cogs turning, the pieces falling into place.

"That's where you've been this whole time," Brenton said slowly. "The S.I.S took you."

"Yeah."

Brenton's eyes moved back to him. "But you managed to escape?"

"Obviously."

Brenton's eyes sharpened, all vulnerability disappearing as quickly as it'd come.

"You thought I'd sent someone to kill you and you still chose to come back," he said, the words slow and guarded. "Why?"

Jared locked eyes with his father and he let everything rise to the surface; the misguided loyalty he'd never quite manage to shake, the desperate need for Brenton's approval, the twisted love he felt for this place and these people. All the things that were going to devour him once this was all over.

"Why not?" he said eventually. "I don't have anything else. You made sure of that."

Brenton was silent for a long time, his chest rising and falling slowly. He was staring at Jared with eyes that betrayed nothing and yet told everything.

It made Jared's breath catch in his throat, made him terrified that Brenton could see right through him, right down to the core. He became acutely conscious of Tai's hand moving in his peripherals, shifting subtly towards his stashed gun.

But then Brenton spoke.

"I'm sorry I made you feel like that."

Jared blinked, the apology throwing him off guard.

"It's alright," he grunted, shifting on the spot.

Brenton stared at him for a moment longer and then he nodded, his eyes moved to Tai and Marco again.

"And you've brought back hostages."

Jared glanced back at the two of them.

"Yeah," he said. "Seth and Leah weren't in the complex, but these two might be helpful."

He pointed a finger at Tai.

"This one's Leah's ex. He probably knows where she is."

Tai tensed, and Jared could feel the anger rolling off him.

"Well done, Jared," Brenton said. "We'll go down to the cells."

Jared had to physically stop himself from letting out a breath of relief at those words. Once they'd gotten Brenton out of the library this would nearly be over.

He turned to grab Tai and Marco, but then Brenton cleared his throat again.

"Hold on. There's something I need to check."

Jared glanced back at Brenton and his mind slowed, his conscious sluggish as he registered what he was seeing.

Brenton had pulled out a gun.

"Wait," Jared said, and even he heard the panicked surprise in his voice. "What –"

Jared's protest was interrupted by a deafening bang and then Marco was blasted backwards, his body smashing against the door, a bullet hole spewing blood from his forehead.

Jared's world went white. His ears were ringing, his breath running ragged. It was only when Tai let out a shout, his hands reaching down towards his pockets that Jared realised if he didn't do something now, Tai was going to blow this entire plan to hell.

Fast as lightning, Jared grabbed the gun from his holster and pointed the barrel at Tai, making the larger boy freeze in place. Tai's gaze shifted between him and Brenton, his face a war of fury.

"Careful," Jared said softly, locking eyes with Tai and forcing as much meaning into his gaze as he could with Brenton there. "Don't make this any worse for yourself than it has to be."

Tai stared at him, his breaths coming in furious heaves, and then his shoulders slumped, his eyes flickering to Marco and then turning away again quickly, flashing with pain.

Jared let his gun drop.

He allowed himself a single second to choke everything back down, to let the anger reduce to a simmer, before he glanced towards Brenton again.

He wasn't surprised when he found his father's eyes were locked on him, gaze calculating.

"Why did you do that?" Jared asked carefully.

Brenton watched him a moment longer before placing his gun away again. There was an expression of satisfaction on his face that made Jared feel sick.

"I wanted to check you were telling the truth," Brenton said simply, "to make sure you didn't care about them. We only need one anyway."

Jared felt a rush of pure fury flow through him, almost choking him in its heat, but he pushed it down.

"Do you still want to take this one to the cells?" Jared asked, head jerking towards Tai.

Please say yes, he prayed. Please.

"Yeah," Brenton said and moved around the table.

He reached the door and pulled it open, raising an eyebrow when Jared didn't immediately move to escort Tai through it.

Catching himself just in time, Jared jerked forwards, his knuckles white as he gripped Tai's forearm and manoeuvred him around Marco's body. They were both studiously avoiding looking at the dead man, unwilling to lock gazes with such empty eyes.

When they emerged into the corridor and Brenton let the door fall closed behind them, Jared let out a breath of relief.

"Oh, one second," Brenton said, and Jared stopped. "Evans!"

Brenton's voice echoed down the corridor and Jared tried not to flinch at the volume of it. There were more people out here than he'd wanted: guards lining the walls, rebels pushing past, disappearing into sound proofed rooms.

He heard a faint call of acknowledgement from Evans. Somewhere deep in the house.

"Call Andre!" Brenton called. "We're going to have to dry clean the carpet again."