In a haze that he never wanted to come out of, Davyn headed for his apartment. He took a quick shower there, changed his clothes and gathered everything he owned. This was it, he was never coming back to that place. He'd have the people at his fathers real estate business rent it out or sale it as soon as possible.

He would leave Chicago and never look back. His heart tightened the fraction of a second in which he thought about Ron, but he tossed the subject aside. He was livid that in spite of his best efforts, his little brother continued to try and kill himself. He was done. He loved Ron, but he wasn't his responsibility.

"Fuck this! Fuck everything," he mumbled as he hailed a cab and headed for his next and final stop.

The lair of evil hadn't changed at all. It was still under construction and a pair of apparently homeless men were keeping an eye on it. They both stopped roaming and their jaws dropped open as he approached. Davyn ignored them and pushed his way inside.

Two other men were securing the ground floor and headed towards him. They froze, eyes wide with shock.

"Yes, very effective," he mumbled.

"Boss?"

He didn't bother to answer and hurried up the stairs. Some more people called out to him, but he was definitely not interested in socializing. Soon enough, he pushed the door to the former office open. Nicholas Harkin was there, sitting behind the desk, looking over some papers. When he raised his face, he too looked as if someone had hit him over the head.

"Boss?"

Davyn charged around the desk, grabbed him by the collar and smacked him against the wooden surface . "What the fuck did you do?"

"I... I thought you were dead or something," Baron stuttered.

"Disappointingly enough, I'm still breathing." Davyn moved his hand to cover the man's neck and squeezed. "Now please explain to me what you did. Slowly and using small words."

"Everything's been going great," Baron choked out. "Our reputation... Your reputation... Our income has tripled. It's well beyond anything you could have predicted."

Davyn loosened his grip, a frown on his face. "And why is that?"

Harkin let out a laugh which was filled with glee. "Are you kidding? Every other street gang is terrified of us. Of you! This clearly showed that we mean business."

It sure did. Davyn stepped back, a small part of him swelling with pride. The rest of him, however, was filled with disgust. "Ah, yes, of course. And you have your scapegoat, just like you always wanted."

"That's not true. Look on the bright side! All the records are gone. No one can place us anywhere. No one can find us!"

"You imbecile, my description is all over the news! Everyone is looking for me! Me, not you! How long do you think it will take for the police to put two and two together and find me?"

Baron faltered. "But you went under. Disappeared for over four months."

He had, and he would do it again. It grated on Davyn's nerves that everything had gone so well for Harkin. He got exactly what he wanted from Snitch Gravel. "Did you do it?"

Baron frowned at the question. "What do you mean?"

He had to be kidding! But it answered the doubt swirling inside Davyn's mind. "The fire. The deaths. Did you do that?"

There was a long pause in which the man probably tried to gauge which answer would be more favorable. Fortunately, he seemed to remember who he was talking to and that lying was not an option.

"No."

"Do you know who did?"

"Well..." There was another moment of hesitation before Baron shrugged. "I think it might have been a short circuit somewhere and the building caught fire."

"There was no investigation?"

"As far as I know, no. After we claimed the attack, they were too busy hunting you down to check. Anyway, even if they find out it wasn't intentional, I think the damage is done. Well, not damage, because it's been great for us."

Them... It was great for him. Davyn bit his tongue not to curse out loud and prepared himself for the most pressing question. "How many?"

"How many what? Money?"

Ignoring the grammar issue, he pressed on. "People. How many people died?"

"Around ten, I think."

Ten people! Ten more people whose blood was on his hands. Walt, Edwards, Omar, Ahmed... His vision blurred and for a moment, his knees felt on the verge of buckling. He gritted his teeth and held himself together. At least he didn't know their names so that he could put them on his list. Still, the number was like an avalanche of bodies, falling over him, burying him.

It wasn't his fault. He'd done nothing to cause the mayhem. Not even his dumb lackey had. It was all a coincidence which had benefited Snitch Gravel. The metaphorical blood was on Snitch Gravel's hands and he'd already made up his mind about all this. He was done.

"I'm glad you're back," Baron said, even if he'd been practically thrown over the desk. "I'm sure with your big brain you can figure out a way for this to work even better."

"Yes, of course. More money."

"Yes, more money. More influence. More fear."

Fear... The look on Millie's face when she saw him. Pregnant Millie. Freider bleeding at his feet and yet winning. 

His hands became sweaty and he balled his fists. What was the point of this? Why was he faltering? He'd made the decision to leave Chicago once and for all the moment he'd stepped out of his house. Freider's house... Freider and Millie's house... The thought made him sick.

"We can go so much further with this!" Baron sounded excited now, his hands clasped together. As always, he was unable to read the room.

"Good luck with that."

His face fell and his eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

Davyn headed for the desk which used to be his, pulled out the top drawer and gathered his papers. "It's exactly what it looks like."

"Wait, you can't just--"

"Oh, but I can just." He slammed the drawer shut. "You got what you wanted from me. Now you're on your own."

"This is not... This was not the deal!"

Davyn quirked an eyebrow. "The deal? The deal was that you do what I tell you to do in exchange for my skills. Now... Well, you can do whatever you want." And he headed for the door.

"You can't just walk away from this!"

"Try to stop me!"

And just like that, he walked away from another part of his life that he didn't want anymore. As expected, Baron didn't try to stop him.

No one ever did when he walked away.

♣

Davyn had little patience after he left behind what he no longer needed. Emotions and legal complications. People who no longer cared about him and never really did.

He still had the Counters. His life could still have purpose.

So, in order not to go insane, he focused on what needed to be done. The past was the past and he'd already done that. He couldn't go back, make different decisions, say different things. His knuckles still throbbed. Baron's words still lingered in the back of his mind.

He had work to do. 

He couldn't stand another bus ride, so he got himself plane tickets for Washington and headed straight for the airport. He was done here. Everything was put in order with his business and he'd made sure it would continue to generate money for him with minimal effort.

For a brief moment, he wondered if his father would be proud of him. The knowledge that Sirius probably would be managed to warm him up a little and cover some of the guilt for leaving his mother behind. But his mother was an adult who'd made her choices and it definitely wasn't his job to protect her. She had Freider.

Out of the five days at his disposal, he'd only taken up two. The hallways of the Counter's facility were empty and the building felt much colder. But now he had more time to settle into the studio they had rented for him. It was a little larger than his former flat, ant there was an actual wall between the bedroom and the kitchen area, but he couldn't care less. He would have gladly spent his nights in the barracks in Cairo.

His hasty return, however, did not go unnoticed. Once he dropped his stuff off and returned to the facility and his new office, it only took Benjamin a few minutes to knock on his door.

"Oh, back so soon? I thought you needed time off?"

Davyn fought the growl building at the back of his throat. "I got it done faster than anticipated."

Without being invited, Benjamin entered the room and took the seat in front of his new desk. "That means you're efficient."

No, it meant he was fucked up. "Of course I'm efficient. That's why you recruited me."

"You're also cocky."

That he was, so he didn't see the point to confirm it. For a few moments, Benjamin just looked around, as if the room wasn't the one they'd provided for him. Davyn hadn't put any personal touch on it.

"Are you ready to get started?"

Of course he was. Anything to keep his mind off the mess he'd left behind. "That's why I'm here."

"Very well then." Benjamin reached into the inner pocket of his expensive-looking jacket and pulled out a folded folder. "I'm here to present you with your daily schedule. You will notice that apart from the mandatory training which is for your own safety, you have very much time that you can use as you see fit. Since we have deemed you the leader of your team, you also have timeslots dedicated to meetings and checking up on them."

"Meetings?" Davyn picked up the folder and opened it. "What is this, a corporation?"

Benjamin let out a low chuckle. "Of course not, but keeping in touch and trusting each other is very important. You will also see that your activity focuses mainly on interpreting what you found in Egypt and locating the other jewels."

"What are you doing with the one we found?"

"Engineering is testing it out to see if the information we have regarding its proprieties is real."

"And is it?"

"Oh, it's too soon to figure that out yet."

Davyn didn't believe him, but he didn't insist either. From the easy smile on Benjamin's face, it became quite clear that he would not be given information he didn't need to know in order to complete his tasks. His mission was to find the jewels, not use them.

But the thought nagged him over the following days as he poured over books on Egyptology, Egyptian legends and the interpretation of hieroglyphs. What were they doing with the jewel? And if there were more, would they be used spread out to generate power, or could they be used together.

His thoughts became scattered once the rest of his team returned from their leave. The first to visit him was Phillip who entered the office and let out a long whistle.

"I was going to comment on you being a big boss man with an office, but holy shit, Davyn, all these books!"

Davyn slammed the one he was reading shut and leaned back in his seat. "Nice to see you, too, Phillip."

Phillip narrowed his eyes at him. "What happened?"

"Why would you think something happened?"

"You're... Different."

Davyn scoffed. He wasn't different. He was in full-blown denial, just like last time. Only the object of his denial had changed. "Not really."

Phillip closed the door behind him and sat in front of the desk. "Look, I never pushed, and I won't now either. But I know what desperate looks like. I know what denial looks like. And you're reeking of both."

"How do you know about all that?"

Phillip only hesitated for a moment before his expression turned stony. "Let's just say I was forced to do some things I've been trying not to think about for a very long time."

Davyn had figured that much himself, but just like his friend, he'd never pushed. "And are you ready to tell me about it?"

"Not yet. But I could ask you how much you know about the IRA."

"I know it's not pretty."

"And it's enough."

Phillip was right. It was enough. Davyn bit down on his lower lip. "Mine is different and a lot more dramatic in a way that is not necessarily... Well, I guess the difference is that it's a little too personal and that makes it seem more important than any grander scheme of things."

"Personal things always are. But you don't look well at all, my friend."

He wasn't. It didn't mean he wasn't going to try and hide it. When Rachel and Simon showed up later that day, both of them glowing with happiness, they didn't notice anything strange. Neither did Harrison or Alan.

 Even if Davyn was glad he didn't have to explain himself, their ignorance also came with a sense of loneliness which smothered him. Still, he pushed past it and focused on his job. Training was bringing him great satisfaction since Kato made sure to help him improve his skills. Soon enough, since the others had a lot of catching up to do, he and Phillip ended up sparring daily, each trying to one-up the other.

When they finally took a break, they settled in to watch the others. Davyn's favorite show was to watch Rachel and Simon going at it. Since they were closest in skill, Kato made them face each other. Davyn didn't think it was exactly fair since Simon would rather skewer himself with a katana than harm Rachel, but he did his best to play along. Alan showed promise as well while Harrison obviously hated fighting, but he had no choice in the matter.

Davyn wished his research would be as rewarding as his training. Even if he'd mostly managed to decipher the writing over the next few months, it was nothing but a story about the sun god Ra bestowing his gifts of fire upon his people. There seemed to be warnings there, of fire and misery, but what that had to do with a jewel or how it helped him find the others, he didn't know.

It became so frustrating that Davyn ended up spending nights at the compound pouring over endless texts regarding Egyptian legends. His birthday caught him on one such night and he simply found himself being nineteen without any celebration or acknowledgement. He allowed himself to contemplate that for a few moments.

A year ago, he'd taken Millie out on their first date. A year ago, he'd just lost his father and was in complete misery. This year wasn't much better, but at least he knew what he was doing and had a direction.

He dedicated a few seconds to wondering what Millie looked like now, how big she'd gotten, but threw that image to the back of his mind. It was one subject he didn't want to think about at all. He'd done the math late into the first night in DC and he'd concluded that the baby had to be Freider's since he'd been away for so long and that was the end of that. A part of him wanted to investigate it further, but he still didn't want to think about them. Their time would come, but not yet.

He didn't want to think about Ron either. Every time he did, he got a painful tug in his chest. It was caused by a mixture of terror, guilt and pure rage. He just hoped he was out of rehab and doing better. If Freider had decided to take everything away from him, he should take Ron, too.

Ugh, he hated his birthday!

He had no time for a sentimental trip down memory lane. He needed to focus.

He needed to do his fucking job!

♣♣♣

So Davyn left Chicago behind and is sinking into his new life as a full-time secret agent. And he's apparently pretty good at it. At least he has friends. Friends who don't know when his birthday is 😅

The ball is rolling. Towards what, you'll find out soon enough!

Thanks so much to everyone who is still following along. There won't be much more to go of the story, but I can't predict a number of chapters since I'm not sure how fast the pacing will be from here on out. My prediction is, pretty damn fast.

But there are still things that need to happen and the next chapter will be... interesting.