Chapter Text
It was late. The quiet of the house had settled in, the usual noise of the Naturals echoing through the halls had faded. The kitchen lights were dimmed, casting shadows across the countertops, and the soft hum of the fridge filled the silence.
Lainey sat at the kitchen table, one leg crossed over the other, her elbows propped up on the table, hands clutching a mug of coffee long gone cold. Her eyes were distant, unfocused, staring at the wall as though looking for something that wasn't there.
Ronnie had been watching her for a while now, from across the room, her hands working absentmindedly through the stack of paperwork she'd pulled out hours ago. She was pretending to work, but she was paying more attention to Lainey than anything else.
"Are you ever going to bed?" Ronnie finally asked, her voice soft but edged with concern, though her tone was calm, carefully controlled.
Lainey didn't look up, just took another sip of her coffee- cold, bitter. "When are you going to bed?" she parroted back, her voice flat, devoid of the usual spark. "If you could sleep, with all this talk of copycats and dead girls, could you really sleep?"
Ronnie's mouth tightened, her fingers pausing over the papers in front of her. She let out a soft sigh. "I know it's hard. And I know you don't feel safe right now, Lainey..."
Lainey finally looked up at her then, her eyes flashing with something sharp. "I know you know."
Ronnie's expression softened, the usual firm edge of authority slipping. She set down the papers and leaned forward, folding her hands on the table in front of her. "You're safe here, Addie. I'll make sure of that."
Lainey didn't respond, not right away. Her gaze drifted to the window, the night sky dark and uninviting. The words felt hollow to her, like they always did when anyone tried to offer comfort. Safety. As if it could ever be guaranteed, as if anyone could keep her safe when the ghosts of her past were constantly at her back.
She shook her head slowly, leaning back in her chair, still not meeting Ronnie's gaze. "You know as well as I do that 'safe' is just a word," she muttered. "It's not real."
Ronnie's breath caught for a moment, the distance between them like a chasm that couldn't be bridged by just words. She studied Lainey carefully, feeling that familiar pang in her chest. The girl in front of her wasn't the same person she knew. That girl had been terrified and broken, desperate for someone to save her. But this Lainey- this Lainey was different. Tougher. Hardened by too many years of surviving on her own. And sometimes, Ronnie wondered if that was the price she paid for pulling her out of the fire in the first place.
Ronnie's voice softened. "Have you thought about talking to someone about it? About what happened? It might-"
"I don't need to talk about it," Lainey snapped, cutting her off, her hand tightening around the mug. She took a long breath, trying to rein in the anger rising in her throat. "What happened is done. No amount of talking is going to fix it."
Ronnie leaned back slightly, sensing the walls going up, but she didn't push. She'd learned a long time ago that pushing Lainey too hard would only make her retreat further. Still, she couldn't help but ask, "You didn't take the practice GED, did you?"
Lainey's lips twisted into a small smirk, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Lia filled it out for me," she said dismissively, almost too casually. "She did me a favour. I mean, I could've taken it, sure. But what's the point? I'm not exactly planning on going to college."
Ronnie felt the twinge of disappointment before she could suppress it. She stared at Lainey for a moment, watching her, trying to figure out if the girl she saw in front of her had truly stopped caring- or if it was just her way of masking the fear. But she didn't press it. Instead, she raised an eyebrow, trying to keep her tone light.
"You really think you can just blow it off? You're one of the smartest kids I know, Lainey. You have a photographic memory- even if you act like you don't. You couldn't even give the test a shot? I mean, you could've passed it with your eyes closed."
Lainey scoffed, tossing her mug onto the counter a little too forcefully. "Yeah, I'm sure I could've. But why bother? What's the point of passing it if it's not going to change anything?" She threw her hands up in the air. "It's just a piece of paper. Just another thing they want to measure us by."
Ronnie stared at her for a long moment, the weight of Lainey's words hanging in the air. She knew there was more to it- knew that Lainey wasn't really talking about the GED, but about everything she couldn't control. The tests. The labels. The past that wouldn't stay buried.
Lainey's face softened for just a moment, the walls slipping slightly as she ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the messy strands. She didn't want to feel weak in front of Ronnie. She didn't want to let the vulnerability show, but it did, in the slight tremble of her hand.
"I didn't take it," Lainey muttered, her voice quieter now, almost too quiet. "Because I didn't need a test to tell me what I already know. I'm not the same as everyone else. I don't fit the mold. And that's not a bad thing, but it means nothing I do is ever going to be easy."
Ronnie sat still for a moment, taking in her words. She wanted to say something to make it better, something that would fix all of this, but she knew that wasn't possible. Instead, she said the one thing she could. "You're allowed to be scared. You're allowed to not have everything figured out."
Lainey let out a shaky breath, pushing herself up from the chair, moving toward the door as if she was trying to escape the heaviness in the room. "I'll be fine," she said softly, though her voice cracked slightly.
Before Lainey could walk out the door- it swung inwards, Dean stood there- his eyes on Agent Sterling. "We need to talk." Was all he said.
𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹
Cassie woke up in a cold sweat, her heart racing as the remnants of a nightmare clung to her mind. She couldn't remember the details, but the dread, the suffocating fear, lingered with her. She needed air. She needed to breathe.
Throwing off the covers, she slipped quietly out of bed, careful not to wake anyone else in the house. The hallway was dark and still, but as she approached the stairs, she heard voices from below. The kitchen. She paused at the top of the stairs, instinctively leaning closer to the source of the conversation.
"I told you, I'm fine. Lainey's fine. We are fine."
Dean's voice was unmistakable, tight, like he was holding something back.
"You're not fine, Dean. You're not supposed to be fine with this. I'm not fine with this."
Cassie's eyes widened as she recognized Agent Sterling's voice, and a part of her froze. What was going on down there? The last thing she wanted was to eavesdrop, but she couldn't tear herself away.
"You left."
Dean's words were sharp, almost accusing. Cassie could hear him, even in the quiet of the kitchen, his frustration seeping through. She took a step closer, trying to stay hidden in the shadows, desperate to catch what came next.
"Dean-"
"You left the FBI. I think we both know why."
"I left because I wasn't doing my job, Dean. I was angry. I needed to prove that I wasn't scared, and I got someone killed. Because I couldn't follow the rules. Because Tanner couldn't let even one case go."
Cassie felt a pang in her chest at the rawness in Sterling's voice. She could sense the guilt, the weight of her decisions. But Lainey- Lainey must've been listening, too, because she finally spoke.
"You could've brought me."
The words hit like a punch to the gut, and Cassie felt the weight of them even from behind the door. She hadn't expected that. The deep, aching vulnerability in Lainey's voice made something in Cassie stir.
Sterling was silent for a long moment. Then, her voice came, softer now. "I made the decision to let you stay here, because I knew you needed people like you."
Lainey scoffed. Cassie could hear it in her tone. She could practically picture her standing with her hands on her hips, the same way she did when she was pissed off.
"That wasn't your decision to make. What happened to you coming here to shutting down this program?"
Silence hung between them, the kind that felt suffocating.
Dean's voice broke through, low and measured. "What was the girl's name?"
The question hung in the air, the room going still. Cassie held her breath, wondering where this conversation was headed.
"I can't tell you that, Dean."
"What was her name?"
"You're not authorized to work on active cases. Leave it alone."
Dean didn't back down. "You tell me her name. I'll leave it alone."
"No, you won't."
Sterling's voice was firm, but there was something else there too- an edge of vulnerability that Cassie didn't expect to hear.
"I made you promises once," Dean said, his voice thick with emotion, barely contained. "I kept them. Tell me this girl's name, and I'll promise to leave it alone."
"Isn't it enough that I swore we would take care of this?" Sterling snapped, her words sharp. "I'm telling you the same thing I told Addie. We've got some solid leads. I can't tell you what they are, but I can promise you we have them. It's a copycat, Dean. Paint by numbers. That's all. Daniel Redding is in jail. He's going to be in jail for the rest of his miserable life."
Cassie pressed her ear to the door, straining to hear the exchange. She could feel the heaviness of it, the weight of the secrets hanging between them.
"What's her name?"
The tension was palpable.
"Why do you need to know?"
"I just do."
"Not good enough, Dean."
The silence stretched again. For a moment, no one spoke.
Then, finally, a soft answer. "Her name was Gloria."
Cassie's breath caught. It wasn't just a name. It was more. Dean's voice cracked, and she could hear the pain in it, raw and exposed.
"He introduced her to me. He made her say my name. He asked her if she'd like to be my mom. I was nine. I told him I didn't want a new mother. And he looked at Gloria and said, 'That's a shame.'"
Cassie's heart broke for him in that moment. She could almost feel the ache in his chest.
"You didn't know." Sterling's voice was quiet, gentle.
"And once I did know," Dean responded, his voice quieter now, breaking. "He wouldn't tell me their names."
Cassie could hear the way the room grew heavier, more solemn.
At last, Sterling's voice broke through the silence. "The girl's name was Emerson Cole."
Cassie stood still, not wanting to make a sound, but her mind was racing. She stepped back slowly, the weight of the conversation crushing her. She turned to leave, but as she did, she caught one more thing.
"I'm sorry, Addie-Bug."
The words were barely a whisper, but they were enough to send a jolt through Cassie's chest.
Lainey's voice, soft but firm, followed. "I know you are."
Cassie turned and left the kitchen, retreating back upstairs, her mind reeling.
𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹
Cassie couldn't shake the weight of what she'd overheard. She closed her eyes briefly, replaying the sound of Lainey's words-
"You could've brought me."
It felt like a dagger, sharp and raw.
You felt betrayed she left. But deep down, you understand why.
She hurt you, yet you still respect her.
Cassie thinks back to the separate occasions she overheard them talking in private.
You call her Ronnie. Not Agent Sterling.
She doesn't give nicknames- it makes you more attached. Yet you call her Addie-Bug
Lainey was more than just a project or a case. Veronica had cared for her- loved her, even. In her own way, she had.
But where had that affection gone? Why did Veronica let Lainey go? Why hadn't she brought her along when she left the FBI? What had been the reason behind that decision? Cassie couldn't wrap her head around it. It was the same reason Lainey had closed off. Something had happened, something neither of them was willing to talk about, but Cassie could feel it in the tension whenever Lainey and Veronica were in the same room.
Cassie's mind lingered on the words Veronica had said: "I made the decision to let you stay here because I knew you needed people like you." Cassie could see how Lainey had reacted to those words- hurt, angry, defensive. "That wasn't your decision to make."
But there was something else in Lainey's voice, a softening that Cassie didn't miss. As much as Lainey pretended not to care, as much as she pushed Veronica away, there was still a part of her that wanted to hear those words from her.
And then, Cassie thought, there was the name. Addie-Bug. What had happened to the little girl Lainey had been before? Before she had built these walls, before she had closed herself off from the world? What had happened to the trust she'd once placed in Veronica?
She needed to know more.