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"You're just like me, you know." Prescott smiled at her, eyes as cold as a snake. "Pushing all the little buttons in people's heads to get what we want. I've seen your work, Agent Henderson – you're just as ruthless and manipulative as anyone that was down with us in the Pit, and the truth is you're better at it than most of them. You like to pretend you're on the side of the angels, but you're just a higher-quality monster."
Listen. Bex fully understood that the entire speech had just been standard seriel killer manipulation, attacking her sense of self the same way he'd done to all his victims. She'd done the same thing to him, reframing his ego as pretension and comparing him directly to the victims he thought so little of. It meant nothing, and wasn't something worth thinking about.
But that was easier said than done, sometimes. The idea lurked in the back of her head like a monster in the closet, too close to a fear that had been back there for far too long. Even though it was for a good cause, she knew she played with people's heads. She did it easily, and she did it well.
Oliver had been good at it, too. She'd loved him with her whole heart, and she trusted that he'd loved her. That was why it had thrown her so deeply when he hadn't put the suspect out after he'd given up Sam's location. He'd had that kind of darkness in him, and she hadn't even noticed. Never even imagined it. She knew he was still mostly a good man, still mostly trusted him, but there had forever been a "but" hanging in the air.
If she'd missed something like that in him, how easy would it be to miss something like that in herself? Would she go too far one day and just let a suspect keep metaphorically burning?
She was too quiet on the flight home. Hassani let her be, too wrapped up in his own worries. He had found out that his wife was investigating connections to the Pit before she died, and though she and Shane had offered to help him investigate he was currently keeping everything he'd found close to his chest.
Shane, of course, seemed to know exactly how she was feeling. He didn't push her to talk about it when she didn't want to, but he stayed close and kept up a series of truly awful knock-knock jokes that did a surprisingly good job of distracting her. He even made her smile a few times, which felt like a minor miracle.
But the monster lingered into the night, leaving her staring up at the ceiling instead of being able to sleep. Shane shouldn't have noticed—she and Hassani often joked that a fire alarm wasn't enough to wake him him—but at some point he nudged her shoulder. "Okay, I've been patient enough." He sounded far too awake for someone who should have been unconscious for the last few hours. "Talk to me."
She closed her eyes, trusting him far too much not to give in. "Do you ever worry about me?" she asked quietly. "That I'm going to cross a line one day? Take things too far?"
Shane made a frustrated sound. "I knew this was about what Prescott said," he muttered, but his touch was gentle as he turned her head to look at him. The look on his face, half-illuminated by the light coming in through the blinds, was as kind and loving as it always was. "Open your eyes, sweetheart. I want you to see my face when I tell you this."
She opened her eyes, shifting to face him fully. "I'm serious, Shane. What if the dark just grabs me one day? You know how ruthless I can be when it comes to bringing someone in."
His expression didn't change. "I don't know that I'd use the word 'ruthless,' but I know what you mean." He stroked his thumb along Bex's cheek. "I also know that I have never worried about that for a second, because you always do exactly the job that needs to be done. Once we've arrested the killer or saved the potential victim, you always stop. I've seen it over and over again."
The sheer certainty in his voice made her chest tighten. "But what if I don't one day?" She squeezed her eyes shut again, curling her hand around his wrist. "What if I'm doing my job, and something happens and I just don't stop?"
"That's not who you are." He still sounded so sure. "You're like your dad, Bex. You do this because you know this is where people need you. You do what you have to do to meet that need, and sometimes that means going places you don't want to be. But it's the need that keeps you there, and when that's done you always get right back out."
Bex tightened her hold on his wrist, throat closing up as she opened her eyes. Maybe she couldn't be sure of her own darkness, but she would do a lot not to disappoint Shane Florence. "How do you have so much faith in me?"
He shifted even closer, the light in his eyes brighter than the streetlights as he pressed their foreheads together. "Because you're worth believing in," he said softly.
When they kissed, it was enough to make her forget all about the dark.