Macy looks at me, that contemplated gaze in her eyes. Stuck between sympathetic and frustrated. "I'm sorry for troubling you today," she finally says. "You're free to leave. We won't be disturbing you anymore."

Akari looks up from their laptop. "Macy-" Macy just sighs and gets up, leaving the conference room. The door shuts behind her and Akari and I are left together. "I guess I will be escorting you out," they say. 

"Okay," I say, getting up from my chair. I'm surprised I was able to make it through the last few days with them interrogating me. Well, not interrogating. We're not in that dark room. It's a lighter atmosphere with windows to outside and a friendlier environment. 

The CIA calculated since it's Gerard the Russians wanted, they have no use for me anymore. I would have only been leverage to get him. Now that they got him, there's no reason to keep me in protection anymore. 

They've been asking me for information on what happened, desperate. I am the only witness to figuring out what happened to Gerard and the other agents. I think lying is definitely illegal but I guess only if you get caught. And I only said I couldn't remember, which is hard to prove I'm lying about. I've been able to keep it consistent, telling her I remember getting to the house, we were setting up. Then there was horrible gunfire and everyone went down. The rest is a blur as the next thing I know, I'm bleeding on the ground. Looks like Macy's finally given up on jogging my memory, which means she may be giving up on Gerard too. But I can see in her eyes she is desperate to get him back. 

Akari wheels toward the door, opening it and holding it for me. "Thanks," I say. They give a nod, then follow out. "How long did you know Gerard?"

Akari chews on the insides of their cheeks. "Um, it has been a couple years. Not as long as Brendon," they say. "I know he is one of the best agents. Highly trained, very resourceful and charismatic. Solved a lot of cases before taking this one." Their voice trails off with worry. 

"What's different about this case from the others?" I ask. "At least, what can you tell me?"

"This one is much bigger than we originally thought. And it has cost us the most agents." We turn down the hall. Akari stares straight ahead. They refuse to look at their desk area where there are bouquets of flowers over the desks. 

"Do you think Gerard's okay?" I ask. 

They don't say anything for a while until we get closer to the elevator. "The Russians took him alive again. We saw what happened when they had him for one day. If it has been 4, he is either dead or good as dead now." Their voice breaks off, getting weaker. "If he is still alive and being tortured, he would have reached the point of no return for recovery." The two of us get in the empty elevator and head to the ground floor. "If that is the case, I hope he is dead then he can be at peace." I swallow thickly, tensing up. "I do not think I should be telling you this," they mutter.

"No, please do. I want to know what's going to happen to him," I say. Akari can't give me the answers I need. They don't know the truth. Gerard isn't who he says he is. I doubt he's dead or being tortured. He's one of them. But still, it's not their fault they don't know that. I didn't tell anyone. Doesn't mean I don't want to know more about him. 

The elevator dings and we head towards the doors. "This case pushed him too far," they say. "In Austria, he was wearing down and then after Brendon, I thought he was going to snap. You might have been the one thing holding him together. But he felt guilty for dragging you into this. Only god knows where he is now." 

"Yeah," I mutter. 

"He could have done a lot with his life. But he joined the CIA," they mutter. Akari stops as we reach the exit. I look at them probably for the last time as I have no reason to ever come back here. This isn't my life. Technically, it isn't Gerard's or whoever he is. But this was just a fiasco to leave in the past and move on from. "Take care, Frank," they say. I nod and head out. 

I head back to Gerard's apartment. When I got out of the hospital last night, I didn't go to the hotel. I stopped by Gerard's apartment to get the things I've left there over time. But for some reason, I just couldn't leave. The rooms, the smell, the comfort, I didn't want to leave it. I'm in love with Gerard Way and deep down, I miss being with him. But he is dead. And he is someone I never met. He died in a car accident when he was a kid. He died with his parents when they were in Eastern Europe. 

After a few days of processing everything, it makes sense. No, not sense. This doesn't make any sense but it's something I understand better. They called him Dmitry and said it's been 20 years. He's 27 right now so that means they last saw each other when he was 7, which was when the car accident was. Something about faces not being their own must imply they changed their faces when they were kids to look like the American kids they were impersonating. 

I hate over thinking this because it's complete nonsense but what happened at the safe house is nonsense too. I can't guarantee I'm right but I know that I'm not utterly wrong. It's psychotic and morbid and a whole lot of other things that mean sick and twisted. But this is what happened. 

The more I think about it, the more I feel guilty for not telling Macy the truth. The Russians are planning something right now and it can't be good. And the CIA is at a disadvantage because they don't know everything they could know. I'm sure they're not completely helpless, they have more information than they're going to tell me, a civilian, about. But still, I'm sure this detail would be helpful. 

But I don't want to give Gerard up. It's stupid and selfish and maybe I could be arrested for espionage for withholding this. I don't know. But I know that Gerard or Dmitry chose to save me. Sure, he still shot me but I'm sure the other two would've shot me if he didn't. And I don't think they would have let me live as he did. Sure, I have stitches in and a nasty bruises on my chest and shoulder but nothing that won't heal. 

I get to Gerard's apartment building and head up to the sixth floor. I have his keyring that he left at the safe house. They gave it to me after they were done investigating. I unlock the door and turn it. I step in and sigh, the presence of his apartment easing my nerves. I'm going to have to move on with my life eventually. But for now, I just want to hold onto the past for a little bit. I shut the door and turn to face the kitchen when I drop the keys out of my hand.

I freeze in my tracks, losing my breath. The keys clatter to the floor, breaking the silence between us. "Gerard?" I whisper. 

He looks at me with bloodshot eyes and frazzled hair. He's breathing heavily from the looks of it, skin pale and sickly in color. He's pointing a gun at me but his hands are shaking badly and the gun is rattling subtly. Considering how accurate his aim was when shooting me at the safe house, I know he's a deadly marksman. But his hands are trembling so violently, I don't know if he could hit me from where he's standing now, only a few feet away. "Where is it?" he growls. His voice is hoarse and unsteady. 

"Huh?" I mutter. What is he talking about? What is he doing here? "Why did you come back?" 

His eyes are watering as he winces. "N-Niet! Where is it?" he asks again. He still has a Russian accent. He takes a step forward, his leg giving out and he groans. He catches himself on the counter, holding himself up with his other arms. I want to go over and help him but he still holds the gun pointed at my head. I know he didn't want to kill me before but something is very different now. He's not well, he's crazy and desperate. Whatever it is, I have a feeling he will not spare me this time if I'm not careful. He glowers at me, gritting his teeth and taking heavy breaths. "I will not as-ask again," he croaks. Even though it's weak, his voice is seething with agony. He slides his thumb down, missing the first time, and clicks off the safety. My heart starts beating faster.