+18 - eps 22-27 - A case takes Russell and Brock to the brink of death. It'll be up to Gillian and the team to rescue them before they're killed by a white supremacist militia. And in the aftermath of the Paris attacks, the threat of a bio attack fo...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
**picture: moon over Boston
Gillian opened her eyes to the pale morning light and had to tell herself she didn't need to jump out of bed and scamper out the door. They've taken down the last of the militia, and it was somehow weird. It'd been almost a month since the attack to the compound and it felt strange, waking up without that quiet, cold anger inside.
But the night before in Akron had been the last act of the nightmare. The militia was no longer a threat. Brock was back to his home and on the mend. Russell would be discharged next week.
It was over.
She could linger in bed a while longer, maybe even sleep a couple of hours. They'd landed in Boston about two a.m. and it was Sunday. She was still tired and she knew she should take advantage of this break. Things wouldn't be quiet after the Paris attacks. Those events were bound to echo in America one way or the other.
So the best she could do was enjoy the chance of an ordinary Sunday. Have brunch with Connor, do his laundry, listen as he told her about his classes and his campus life, watch some movie together, keep an eye on the news, maybe invite Banks and "his girls"—wife and daughters—over for dinner.
She pulled up the comforter, eyes on the gray fall sky outside her window.
Over.
She wished she could call Brock to tell him so. It's over, stupid bitter man. I didn't make them suffer like they did to you; I didn't shoot them down like I shot Balken. But it's over. You're safe. Now get well soon and come back. Even if only to avoid me. I don't care. It's good to know you're fine and around.
Get well.
Had he found the Blue Label she'd packed in his go-bag? Like a silly present from a stupid secret admirer. Jeez, would she ever be able to behave like a grown-up around him, instead of the usual diehard fangirl she couldn't help to be? Most probably not.
The muffled sound of footsteps made her roll over. She faced the door at the same time Connor stuck his head in.
"Morning, Mom. Breakfast?"
Gillian frowned—he sounded and looked way awake for her son at seven a.m. "Are you sleep-walking?"
Connor scoffed. "I get up early every day at school. I'm afraid I'm getting used to it." She sat up but he shook his head. "Stay. I'll call you when it's ready. You came back late last night."
Gillian nodded, smiling to hide how odd it felt, Connor talking to her like that. He'd always tried to look after her, but all of a sudden he sounded so mature, even more than he'd always been.
It was a lazy, nice Sunday like she expected. Connor seemed to need some Mom-time, so he didn't lock himself up in his room to play or have a nap. They spent the whole day together, and he even allowed her some hugging.
The Banks family arrived at sunset. Gillian was grateful when Carmen took over the kitchen and stated she'd take care of dinner.
"You should take offense," said Banks. "That means she thinks you suck at cooking."
"I know, and I'm happy she thinks so, if it means I don't have to cook."
Banks was about to tease her some more when they noticed Connor's smile at Angeles. And what was even worse: Angeles' hand resting on his forearm as she smiled back.
They traded a shocked glance and looked up at Connor, who approached the table to grab a soda can—for Angeles.
Gillian pretended to cough to say, "Statutory rape."
Connor arched his eyebrows—are you talking to me?
Banks clarified with a misleading smile. "That's when a person of age has intercourse with an underage partner."
"I know what that is," Connor replied.
"It means you'll end up dead in a ditch if you lay a finger on his baby girl," said Gillian.
"I know that too." Connor took a few steps away from them, then stopped and turned around. "But according to state regulations, she'll be a consenting adult when she turns sixteen... right, Bob?" He winked at Banks and joined back Angeles in no hurry.
Banks eyes widened in shock. Gillian gawked at her son's back. Until she saw Banks' face and felt the twitch of laughter in her belly.
Carmen came from the kitchen then, glanced at their children and smiled. "They make a cute couple, don't you think?"
Banks' hurt surprise when he looked up at his wife pushed a giggle out of Gillian's lips. She managed to stay calm enough to pat his back. "Think of it this way: better Connor than some random punk you know squat about."
"She's got a point," said Carmen, thoughtful.
Banks' jaw dropped, as if his wife had just stabbed him. And Gillian couldn't help it anymore.
