gut feeling

five: unsub

"Queenie, what are you doing here?"

"I know I'm not supposed to be around here, but--"

"No, you aren't! It's dangerous, you could have been killed and you aren't out of the clear yet!"

"Harvey, listen--"

"What happened to staying at the house until this--" Harvey waved his arms aimlessly, "--all blew over?"

"Harvey!"

"What?"

"They were right, I'm not just sick! We have to get away! If we were in trouble before, now we--"

"What do you mean, who was right?"

"Everyone! Your boss, our friends, they were all right!"

"About..." Harvey trailed off and looked up at Queenie. "About--"

"Yes, Harvey, they were right about me being pregnant! I don't know what to do! If we're in trouble, what do you think they'll do to us if they find out we're having a kid, too? Isn't that just another thing they can hurt us with?"

Harvey stood stock still and finally shook his head gravely. "I wish we could be happy about this." 

Queenie watched the crackling fire before her as she recalled her reason for being out in the middle of the woods in the first place. It had started over two years ago with her and Harvey getting into deep trouble for disregarding a job and trying to run away-- and then getting caught. Their "gang" (although they didn't like being called that: they were all rich and classy and preferred to be called such pompous things as 'investors in Chicago's well being' or a simple 'society') had been trying to decide what to do with them, when yet more bad news came in. 

Queenie was pregnant. 

Harvey had fought good and hard to get them away from Chicago after that, and was so close to being successful. They had taken refuge in an old gentleman's house, the owner of it being named Cecil, and been well hidden for long after Queenie had the baby. They were uncomfortable, but as time passed, the danger also seemed to go with it. How wrong they had been. 

Queenie was sitting in the lumpy chair by the fireplace, holding her one year old son in her lap and reading him a book about dogs. Harvey was watching with a smile as his (not official) wife cared for their son, whom they had named after Cecil. 

Cecil came into the room with a confused face. "You said that you haven't contacted anyone since before you came here?"

Queenie looked over to Harvey, pausing to listen.

"Yes, that's right." Harvey said, standing up. 

"And you never told anyone that you were going to come here?"

"Of course not. What's this about, Cecil?" Queenie asked. 

"Someone's here. For you two. They know. I don't know what to say, but they know that you're here and they heard the rumor that you were pregnant when you disappeared. They know there's a kid here. What are you going to do about that?" 

Harvey remembered that day vividly. They spent hours trying to figure out how to explain why they had a child, "Why don't we hide him?" "You think they won't search the whole house top to bottom?", until they finally decided that they would have to momentarily get rid of the baby.

"What the hell does that mean, Harvey? Momentarily get rid of a baby?"

"It would be better than them just taking him."

"No, what does it mean?"

"We put him in the adoption system, anonymously, and then adopt him back. Say he isn't really ours."

"Why would that work? They still would know that we have a baby."

"Queenie, they already know there's a baby here. We just need him to not be ours. If they think the baby has nothing to do with us, they won't kill him, they'll put him back in the system. They'll only punish us."

Queenie sighed. "Okay... so we momentarily get rid of the baby."

Harvey glanced up across the fire at Queenie and knew she was thinking the about the same thing: how badly the plan ended up going. 

"You said Cecil took Cece with him? Where did they go again?"

"Well, you know how interested in cars he is. Cecil knew how much Cece would like to see some more interesting ones, and they're having a car show not far from here."

"I'm sure Cecil would also enjoy getting out of the house." Harvey walked to the window as he heard a car pull up to the house. "Things around here have been... tense." He trailed off as he saw not his son and friend get out of the car, but Tom and Nicky, two members from their 'Chicago investors group.' 

Nicky and Tom let themselves into the house and somehow found their way straight to the room where the couple was. 

"Have you been watching the news?" Nicky asked, looking over to the tv (which was off).

Harvey glanced to Queenie."No, is there something we missed?" 

"Not if you turn it on now." Tom answered. 

Queenie picked up the remote with another glance at Harvey. "Which channel?"

After they turned the tv on, Queenie flipped a few channels before stopping at the one they were told to go to. They were met with the scene of a gruesome car wreck that spread down the street in metal and human pieces. 

"Did you do it?" Harvey asked, turning away from the image.

Tom turned to the door. "Not personally. It was an anonymous decision by the society."

Nicky followed him dutifully. 

"Who is it?" Queenie asked them as they left. "In the wreck?"

Nicky turned to her. "Let's just say, hopefully someone that you won't miss."

"There were no survivors." The tv droned in the background.

Queenie looked to Harvey, and then to Nicky. "Who. Was. It?"

"I think you already know, Queenie." Nicky turned to leave again. 

And she did know. 

What she didn't know was how to control her rage and grief.

Queenie and Harvey drove all the way to Rossa with Nicky and Tom in their trunk and had killed every single person who came after them. 

Harvey stood and moved to sit next to her. 

They sat in silence, because neither needed words. And, even if they did, what could either of them say to lessen the grief? Only a month ago, their guardian and good friend had died, along with their son. Killed by the people they were trained to trust. Killed as a power move. Their child had been nothing less to the society than an expendable soldier pawn. They had been check mated. 

Queenie rested her head on Harvey's shoulder.