Open Case File [COMPLETED]

The End (Part 1)

When she climbed into the car, Mason glanced at her but didn't say a word. Silently, they drove out of the cemetery, a baseball cap pulled low over Carter's face to conceal it from any watching eyes. They left the city limits and drove empty roads until they reached a cabin hidden away. Carter stepped out of the car, the sharp smell of pine flooding the air and her nose. Inside the cabin was mostly bare. It was a safe house that she had lived in since the car accident that supposedly she died in. There was no sign of photos or personal touches to the place. She hadn't changed anything, not wanting this to feel permanent.

She walked to the table in the center of the cabin and stared down at the blueprints, the files, the pages of notes that were all her ticket back to her life. Back to Kennedy. Back to Donovan.

Mason walked to the small kitchen and made coffee. He didn't speak. It was a trait Carter hadn't imagined Mason possessed. But it was something she had discovered over the two months. Along with his talent for making coffee, finding pieces of information some would say it was impossible to find, and winning every poker game they had.

When he set down a mug of steaming coffee before her, she didn't touch it. Mason settled into a chair across from her, eyeing her over the rim of his mug. Carter stared at the papers in front of her but couldn't see them. All she could see was the lifeless way Donovan gazed at her headstone.

The crunch of wheels on the dirt road, made Carter glance up, already reaching for her gun. Mason didn't move, not at all alarmed.

"It's just them," he said.

Carter relaxed, setting her gun down. Three pairs of footsteps crossed the drive and clambered up the creaky wooden stairs to the cabin. The new arrivals didn't knock, simply walked in. Carter returned her attention to the table before she could see them. Right then it was too hard, they all had aspects of Donovan in their faces and she couldn't bear.

At Carter's lack of greeting, all three Keller brothers looked to Mason for an answer.

"We went to the cemetery today," he said.

Carter clenched her fists and closed her eyes, feeling claws dig into her chest. Clint crossed to her and before she could fight it, he pulled her into his arms. Carter went, knowing she needed this.

"You should have told me," she said, her voice choked with tears.

Clint held her tighter, putting all his brotherly love into the action.

"You know why we couldn't," he said.

Carter did know. If she had been aware of how broken Donovan really was she might have jeopardized everything she worked for to contact him. Which could have meant his death.

The only reason Brock, Clint, and James knew was because when the men working for O'Malley had stopped watching them. They had then been clued into Carter's secret. Since then they had been part of her life in a way she hadn't ever expected. They were her support and lifeline to all the ones she loved.

When Clint pulled back, Brock stepped up beside him and laid a hand on Carter's shoulder.

"It ends tonight. Remember that. We are getting you home. We're so close. O'Malley won't be able to do anything to you or Donovan or Kennedy or anyone else after this."

Carter needed the reminder like she needed to get home. She met each gaze of the men in the cabin with her and nodded.

"Alright, let's finish this."

*****

Carter crept across the rooftop, Brock keeping pace with her. Their treads were soundless, nothing but the night wind to be heard. Beneath their feet, they could feel the vibrations of the club a few floors below. Though the walls were too thick to hear the music, they felt the thumping of the bass.