"What if the way we started made it something cursed from the start
What if it only gets colder
Would you still wrap me up and tell me that you think this was smart
Cause lately I've been scared of even thinking 'bout where we are"
— Banks
___________________________
"Do you know how stupid you are?"
Adrian looked at me, angry perhaps, but definitely not liking what I just said. I couldn't tell if he was just looking or glaring. We had reached his penthouse overlooking Tribeca. It was quite the opposite of Silas's preference. Adrian liked his things plain black and white, and contemporary whereas Silas was more of a vintage-preferring person.
"No, to the left," Adrian instructed against his will when I struggled to find a water bottle in his fridge. I took one out and poured both of us two glasses of water. He gulped his and set it down on the marble counter. I sat on the stool beside him and squared my shoulders.
"You deserved that," I said, rather an unpleasant tone noted.
"You probably wouldn't have said that if it had been Silas in my place," he answered right away, his eyes impassive.
I knew that I wouldn't have thought so but to feel a little sane I would have said the same thing to Silas. Of course, I didn't mean when I said it to Adrian. But he didn't have to know that. His bone fractures would take a few weeks to heal. That was enough for taunting him.
"You should be grateful that Benson helped you," I hissed and finished my water, knowing that she could've prevented the fracture and keep it to a flesh wound.
"She helped me?" He rose both eyebrows. "For all we know, she could have been waiting for you to get shot."
"Well, aren't you supposed to be aware of everything? Why don't you know who the bug is, then?"
"She doesn't tell me everything." With that, he looked away, maybe sulking. Age had touched his features. He looked warier than how he was in Maui. There were lines which weren't there before. It was sort of appealing.
"You should go upstairs, take some rest," I suggested.
"I have people who'd help me," he said when I aimed to help him shift to the wheelchair.
"Okay." I took my hand to myself, slightly humiliated. That was when it came to me that he was to be at bed-rest.
"Adrian, you can't go to the trial tomorrow," I said immediately.
He peered up, blue eyes narrowing instinctively. For a while, I couldn't tell what he was up to. Either he was going to be happy or devastated. Never the both.
"Thanks to your Agent Benson," he smiled. "I'll go. I made a promise to myself that—" He looked at me cautiously, choosing his words. "— I'll get rid of Megan."
I didn't say anything for a few minutes before standing up. "I'll leave then. Should I call the housekeeper to help you up? It's the least I can do."
"You don't have—" he halted as if reminded of something. "Okay."
So, I did before leaving the penthouse.
"You'd think people had better things to talk about," I said, having made the news again as I sat across from Silas in Agent Hart's conference room. "It's your last trial, and all the reporters do is ask me if it's a boy or girl."
The news had been leaked the next morning, on the day of the last trial. I particularly didn't like the idea of not being the one to bear the news. Yet, sooner or later people would find out. One could hide a baby bump only for a few months anyway.
"Well, what is then? A boy or a girl?" Silas was looking at me, of course pulling my leg.
"One with the huge ego, yes," I bit back, liking our small conversation. There was something very relaxing about sitting here, talking to him. He wore one of his carefree smiles after a long time. His hair was trimmed now, hard to recognize if it was curly or straight, his face shaved, and him clad in one of his tailored suits.
"It's easy to like a pregnant woman, don't you think? Sympathy and everything," he continued to tease.
"As if it isn't easy to get knocked up whatsoever," I snorted, making him laugh. "I don't want sympathy, Silas. I want justice."
Silas's smile was vague. Hart walked in, a few seconds later, his blue eyes darting from Silas to me individually until he halted before the table and dropped something heavy on the glass with a thud. I looked down, finding two bullet-proof vests.
"Mr. and Mrs. Dale, I suggest you two put these on. I had been informed about the sniper," Agent Hart said, sliding the vests towards us. I caught mine, so did Silas.
"Is it necessary?" I said, feeling the uncomfortable fabric with my hands.
"You of all people should know that it is after yesterday, Dawn," Silas spoke, his voice suddenly firm. He was reaching for his tie to loosen, his eyes on Hart now.
"Where can we put these on?" I asked, my eyes roaming around instinctively.
"Emma will lead you two," Hart said, pointing his jaw towards Agent Benson who was about to walk into the room.
Once back at the conference room, I found Silas already, there. He was now straightening the lapels of his jacket.
"Now, we have reasons to believe that whoever is behind the attacks will try to harm Mrs. Dale again," Hart stated, startling and causing me to remove my eyes from Silas. "Mrs. Dale, if any of our agents tell you to follow orders such as 'sit in the car' or 'hide' or anything at all, you'll proceed."
"I —" I thought about that one bug partly, but added, "Of course, yes."
"You'll be fine then." Hart's lips curved slightly. "Now, Mr. Dale, you'll come with me."
Benson came forward as well. "You'll be coming with me, Mrs. Dale."
Before I knew my head had turned for one glimpse at Silas. He was talking to Hart animatedly. I nodded at Agent Benson half-heartedly and marched out of the conference room, setting off down the tiled steps.
"DId Adrian throw any tantrums?" I asked, my mind still on Silas.
"A bit, yes," said Benson lightly. "He's in the car now."
"Good," I muttered more to myself, making my way towards the elevator. Outside the air smelled like cigarettes and sweat, sounds of inane chatters and clicking cameras following. I ignored every single question thrown at me, concentrating on the ground below through my sunglasses.
"Shame. I was starting to enjoy how stupid those reporters were." It was Adrian who spoke with sarcasm when I sat beside him.
"How are you feeling?" I ignored his remark, observing him. He looked unexpectedly tired as though he hadn't slept all night.
"I was forced out of my own car and to wear a vest underneath my shirt," he said calmly, his eyes flicking towards Emma resentfully while she drove.
"Safety precautions," I highlighted with a smile. "You can't drive like that."
He looked offended when I gestured towards his leg.
"I had no idea," he murmured before looking away.
The drive to the court was very short, existing only a minute. It was more painful because of the silence in the car interior. There were a few reasons the bureau wanted us to be out of plain sight. Apparently, the idea of crossing the street and slip into the Foley square and then cross the street again wasn't tempting. There were barricades perched on the sidewalk to keep the reporters from climbing the stairs. They pushed against each other as I climbed out of the car, Wayne from the front seat shielding me. I wrinkled my nose at the smoky air and clambered onto the steps.
Desmond was visible behind one of the pillars. He had gotten rid of his silky black hair, sticking to a trim. He ambled towards me as I left the crowd behind. Adrian insisted on getting out in the garage since he needed to be shifted into a wheelchair.
A light breeze ruffled my hair as I looked out at the Centre Street and the forget-me-not blue sky.
"Where is he?" Desmond spoke, his brown eyes scanning the crowd. "I was told you'd be arriving together."
"But the bureau wanted to escort him," I frowned, immediately looking at the bureau across the street.
"It's okay. The bureau won't be causing any trouble," Desmond assured me when I met his brown eyes. "Now Dawn, even if we get the confession, they will still have the break-out thing to hold against him."
"I know," I nodded, paying attention.
"If that happens, there will be testimonies and the boards will make a decision. If we can't get him out even after the confession, we will turn to WITSEC," he finally finished.
I let out a noisy sigh. "Good to know." My eyes strained across the street, spotting Silas behind Hart and Osbourne, stepping into the car. My gaze only faltered at the commotion at the steps. A familiar face was visible, her blue doe-eyes on me.
"Dawn?" Megan smiled, eventually as she faced me. "Ah, Mr. Maxwell, a pleasure to see you."
Desmond and Megan shook hands and right afterward, he excused himself.
"Megan," I smiled back when she turned to me.
"Congratulations." Her smile formed into a grin as she touched my arm, almost friendly. "You'll be a great mother, always fussing over the little thing."
"Thank you." I kept my smile prominent, shrugging her hand off casually. "But you probably have to repeat the same thing after the trial."
"Really?" She looked impressed. "Why are all these feds around you? Why do you need protection?"
My eyes flickered to the car arriving at this side, men climbing out of the car. To Megan, I added, "I really don't have time for this. Silas is here."
As I aimed to walk past her, she held my wrist, nearly tugging me back. I struggled, gritting my teeth. But she was in front of me now, her smile faint.
"Megan," I warned calmly, looking around for Emma who had her eyes on the car.
"Dawn, I'm still talking," she said as if offended.
"I am done talking, Megan," I mirrored her expression, shoving her hand off me.
"Well, I'm tired of all these people digging into my past," she spoke fast, her lips moving at a full tilt. "Did you really think that I depend on Adrian?"
"What did you do?" I muttered.
"Just found out what you're up to. I don't need Adrian for that, Dawn." Her voice was low yet lucid, boring into my ears. We looked at each other for seconds, silent until she murmured ever so slowly, "Sad day, isn't it, Dawn? Say goodbye. Go."
"What do you mean?" I couldn't care about my fear crippling into my face. I had held my breath in that instant, embracing the sort of silence before the storm.
Megan's blue eyes stared at mine for a split second before she whispered, "There you go."
And a gunshot reached my ears.