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Isobel leaned against the wall outside of the hotel she’d tracked Vargas too. Penthouse suite. Some things never changed, although she did want to question how he felt a penthouse suite was a good idea to lay low.
It wasn’t her place of choice, she would rather be at home, even some motel where she could just be alone with her thoughts, comforted by the sound of those around her living their lives, but instead, she found herself here, telling herself she had exhausted all other options and methods to silence her thoughts, that this was the only thing she could think of.
She pressed the call button, heart in her throat, her brain telling her she could walk away now, but her body didn’t move, she simply stayed where she was in the doorway, holding the call button for his suite, wanting everything to go quiet.
When the door buzzed open it sobered her a bit. No questions asked, just a simple open door which she walked through, her eyes focusing on what was in front of her, stairs or the elevator.
She took the elevator up, leaning against the metal wall, closing her eyes, tightening and then loosening her grip on her handbag, knowing she should walk away but coming this far and wanting to see it through.
“Agent Castille.”
The way he used her title should have scared her - he’d killed two agents, what’s one more - but she didn’t flinch, she opened her eyes, looking straight at him.
“Vargas.”
He moved forward, stopping the elevator doors from closer.
“What have I done now?”
She swallowed hard, still in the relative safety of the mental box.
“Nothing. I’m not here as an FBI agent.” She moved her coat aside, no badge, no gun, just the waistband of her jeans.
He nodded slowly. “So, why are you here?”
“I need your help. I want something to stop my thoughts for a bit,” she paused, sucking in a deep breath. “I want some drugs. I have money.”
She waited for retaliation, for him to laugh in her face, for something to happen that would force her back downstairs, back onto the street where her thoughts would be twice as loud.
But he didn’t. “You better come in then, Isobel.”
She hugged herself as she stared at the small bag of white powder he’d placed on the countertop in front of her. She didn’t react for a moment, it looked like every other bag of cocaine she’d ever seen, she thought having it in front of her, standing only a short distance away from him would make it all click in her head that she needed to go home.
Sleep. Eat. Shower. Pull herself together.
“Something tells me you made a rash decision coming here, Isobel.”
She looked up at him, for the third time that evening. “I just want things to go quiet for a while.”
Vargas reached forward, moving the white powder off the countertop, replacing it with a bottle of wine.
“People usually go for the alcohol first, a little cheaper, and less of a come down the next morning.”
Isobel turned away for a moment, the blank wall she was looking at helped, her brain would catch up soon enough, but would it be in time? It was like she had a devil on one shouler and was just waiting for the angel to get in her place to whisper in her ear that it would all be okay.
“What happened, Isobel?”
It wasn’t a question she expected from him, but it made her turn around to face him.
She let out a breath, finally releasing her arms wrapped around her. “Do you really want to know, or are you playing the long game of, get her drunk, get her high, and then kill her?”
He shook his head, “No long game, just asking a question. No one just has a bad night and turns to coke, Isobel. Well, not someone like you anyway. Sure, you know everything about me, but I don’t engage with people unless I know all about them too.”
She lowered her head, “I told you, Vargas, I just want things to go quiet for a while. I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to have to look at you, but an FBI agent buying drugs on a street corner wouldn’t look great.”
He chuckled, “No, I guess it wouldn’t. But you being here doesn’t look great either, does it?”
She shook her head, “No.”
“So,” He stepped around the countertop, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, “Why are you here, Isobel? You know this is wrong, I bet you’ve got a migraine coming with all the back and forth your brain is doing right now.”
Isobel could feel herself unravelling and she hated it. He was right, none of this looked great, she had options, of course she did. She could have gone anywhere else, she told herself she couldn’t but she could. She could have turned up to anyone of her agents homes and they would have let her in, she could have called her sister, her friend, her father, but instead, she had ended up standing in front of Antionio Vargas, offering to pay top money for a bag of drugs that would silence her thoughts for only a night.
She let out a choked sob, her mind a scrambled mess as she fell from grace. A woman to be reckoned with, a force of nature, a woman in a position of power, falling apart in front of someone like him.
“I just need it all to stop, I need everything to stop, I want to get off this ride,” She looked up at him, although she couldn’t see through her tears, “please make it stop.”
“Sit down, Isobel.”
She did as he said, she felt too weak to argue with him. Now she was here, all her emotions she had pushed down were catching up to her. The empty feeling in her stomach, the anger she felt at too many people, her dad, Jess for leaving, at herself for being in this position. Guilt over Rina and Maggie, over OA and what he’s been through, over Jubal’s relationship with his kids. She was to blame for Elise’s weekly therapy session, and everything else that had come with the shared experience of nearly getting blown up.
“Let me call someone for you.”
She shook her head, “There is no one to call.” It hurt her throat to say it outloud, but it was the truth in her mind, there was no one to call, no one who would understand why she was here.
Isobel didn’t have an answer to the questions they’d ask. Wanting to know why she went to him, why didn’t she go to them? She didn’t know.
He sat down on the couch opposite her, pushing a glass of water in front of her, “Drink this, then I will make you some tea or something. When was the last time you ate? Even if I was going to give you that bag, you can’t snort coke on an empty stomach, Isobel, not if you had plans to go to work tomorrow.”
She raised her head, “Why are you doing this?”
He tilted his head? “Doing what?”
“Being nice, you have a hit out on me, or something? Right? I put you in prison, I’m sure you being in there interrupted some of your operation?”
He shook his head, “I don’t have hits out on anyone, I deal in drugs, not people. You’re not my favourite person, Isobel, but a respected FBI agent doesn’t turn up at a drug dealer's door without good reason. I was raised to be a gentleman after all.”
She shook her head, “I don’t know what I was thinking.” The admission was quiet, painful, laced with hurt.
“I don’t think you were thinking much at all.”
She hummed, “No. In my head this would be the easiest choice, just for a night of quiet.”
“It’s not the easiest, nor is it the safest, or the right choice and you know that Isobel. Regardless of our past, I am giving you an out, drink your water, let me make you some tea, and then let me have one of my men take you home, or to one of your friends places, then get help.”
She closed her eyes briefly, beginning herself not to let the tears fall. “I wish you would just kill me.”
“No you don’t.”
She opened her eyes again. “I don’t know what I am doing, Vargas.”
He nodded, “That’s okay, Isobel. You will, in time, once you get past this moment of upset.”
She shook her head, “You say that like it’s easy.”
He stayed silent, because they had both felt grief and pain, and they both knew that getting through those emotions, those turbulent times were far from easy.
Time passed slowly, the glass in front of her was replaced by a mug, she kept her head down, wiped the few stray tears that rolled down her cheeks.
He left her alone a few times, she heard his voice muffled by the walls, talking to someone. She assumed a deal, updates, even family, his line of work didn’t stop because she was there. Maybe if she was at the top of her game he would feel slightly intimidated, but right now, she wasn’t sure what she’d do even if she could hear him clearly.
“I called your friend, Agent Valentine,” He stepped back into the room, “He didn’t answer, I assume he is with his children, I will try again later.”
Isobel shook her head, “I can get myself home, you don’t need to tell anyone about this.”
He took the same seat he’d been in before, “You should know that despite New York not being my patch, I do hold some power over the dealers here, if they see you, they won’t sell to you, Isobel.”
She met his eye. “Coming here was a mistake, I know that. I just want to go home.”
“Give me a phone number, Agent Bell, Agent Zidan, Ms Taylor, I will call them, have them pick you up. Your father? Spend a night in one of his hotel rooms, get out of your own head for a little while.”
Isobel straightened up a little, reaching for her bag that was on the floor by her feet, she pulled out her phone, “Call Jubal again, this is his second number,” She hesitated before handing it over, a flash of what Vargas was capable of going through her mind.
“Don’t worry, I want nothing to do with the FBI, this number will mean nothing to me after you have gone.”
She had to believe him, and in a way, she did. So she passed him her phone, “Just, don’t tell him about the drugs.”
Vargas nodded, “I don’t think I will have to, Isobel.”
She stepped out of the apartment building the way she had gone in. Vargas had walked her to the elevator, a trip done in almost complete silence.
“Don’t come back here, Isobel, you’re better than that.”
“If I do, will I get that bag of white powder?” She needed to ask, she needed a backup plan in case things got worse.
He shrugged. “I hope you never feel like you have to find out.”
She didn’t reply to him, she just gave him a single nod of the head. She didn’t know what else to say, she just wanted the experience to end now. She could feel herself coming back down to earth, and she knew she’d crash land the moment she saw Jubal.
The street lights felt too bright, but she felt comforted by the darkness, and how empty the street was, until she saw her ASAC across from the building waiting by the car.
She stepped out onto the street, making her way over to him. “I appreciate you coming to get me.”
“Wasn’t the phone I was expecting, Isobel. What happened?”
She shrugged, “I am still trying to figure that out. I didn’t do anything, I haven’t bought anything, I just want to go home.”
Jubal nodded, “Let’s go. We can talk tomorrow.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Jubal,” She replied before getting into the car, “I went, it was a mistake, I sat for two hours drinking lukewarm tea and now I want to go home, please, I don’t want to have to talk about this again.”
“Okay.” Despite his voice sounding reassured, she knew he wasn’t.
“Look,” He’d pulled up outside her apartment building, speaking only a few times during the drive, “If you need to take tomorrow off,”
“I don’t,” She shook her head, her smile looking a little less forced, “I just need some sleep.”
“Okay.” It was the second time that ‘okay’ was all she could come up with. “Look, Isobel, I am here if you need me, okay?”
Isonel nodded, “I know. Thank you for picking me up. I promise you nothing happened, I just want to forget about it all.”
Jubal shrugged, “It’s not going to be that easy, Isobel, he’s a drug lord, and someone who put a hit out on all of us.”
Isobel nodded, tears once again building, “Jubal,” She reached out to touch his arm, “I am so sorry, it was a major lapse in judgement, I wasn’t thinking, I know that doesn’t give you much comfort, but I need you to trust me on this one.”
Jubal nodded, “Why don’t we pick this up tomorrow when you’ve had some sleep?”
Isobel nodded but only briefly, before muttering a quick good night and getting out of the car. She didn’t turn around as she made her way into her building, her head was down, and all she could think about was crawling into bed and hoping the last few hours had been a nightmare that she could wake up from.
“What actually happened?” Elise stepped closer to Jubal, she wanted to hear him clearly.
“I don’t know. According to Isobel, nothing. According to Antonio Vargas, also nothing.”
Elise shook her head, “Why would she go there?”
“I don’t know.” Jubal’s shrug was one of defeat, “In all honesty, I don’t think she knows herself.”
It was OA who suggested talking to her, “Something is clearly wrong.”
Jubal agreed, “She wasn’t willing to talk when I picked her up.”
Elise was the one who turned to face Isobel's office, taking half a step in that direction, “Well, she’s not going to have a choice now.”
It was Maggie who managed to grab Elise's arm before she could move any further, “I know you’re upset, but is shouting really going to help? Come on, this is Isobel, she wouldn’t have gone there without reason.”
“But what if the reason isn’t good?” Elise said, a harsh tone masking the fear that was in her eyes.
Maggie let go of her arms, but followed closely behind as Elise moved to Isobel’s office, pushing the door open, standing in front of her desk, with one demand.
“Tell me why you were with Vargas last night.”
Isobel looked up from her paperwork, Elise, tears in her eyes stood front and centre, with the rest of the team behind her.
Isobel took her glasses off, looking at Jubal who kept his head down. In the back of her mind she knew it would come out, she knew she would have to explain, she just assumed it would before to her ASAC, and not the woman she held hands with in what could have been their final moments.
“I was struggling,” Isobel replied, voice level, “I ended up there, I think when I started walking there was the possibility of me getting something to,” She stopped.
“Drugs,” She said eventually. “But, I didn’t. I sat for an hour in his apartment and then I left. I did a drug test when I got home, I got my neighbour to film it and it’s already at the lab. I took nothing, I didn’t drink anything, we barely spoke. It was a lapse in judgement due to stress.”
Elise was the first one to shake her head, confused. “Why didn’t you come to us?”
“I don’t know.” It was honest, but still sounded cold. Isobel knew if she didn’t keep her voice level, it would crack, and it was a long way down once it started. She was still the boss here, she still had a team to run.
“And now?” She was surprised that OA was speaking up. “Are you any clearer on why?”
Isobel shook her head, “This job is stressful, and it’s not always easy to go home and switch off. My job is to lead this team, sometimes, there are moments when it feels overwhelming. I don’t think I need to explain to you how people get those feelings to stop.”
Jubal cleared his throat. “The lab called this morning, the drug test and the blood test you took were both clean. NYPD did a drive by Vargas’s hotel, and have a live trace on his phone, no irregular activity.”
Isobel pushed herself up from her desk, swallowing down everything she felt. She reached for her notebook, writing, and then ripping the page out.
“This is the number for Assistant Director Reynolds, and the FBI’s complaints unit. If you have an issue with this, then you can go the official route of having me removed and starting an investigation into what I did. I will understand completely.”
She would. She wouldn’t blame them, she would almost encourage it. What she did was wrong, the fact that she did it still hurt her mind when she tried to play back the steps she took to get to his place, asking him for something that would silence her thoughts.
The team looked at Elise who shook her head, “You wouldn’t do anything to hurt us.”
Isobel nodded, “I wouldn’t, you’re right.”
“You should have come to us.” Maggie sounded defeated, “Why didn’t you come to us if you were struggling?”
Isobel shrugged again. “I don’t know.” Although it was becoming clearer to her. She was taught not to. She was taught to be strong, to handle her own business. She was the boss, she was supposed to be strong, she was a female, meaning she had more to prove than the men in the same position.
It wasn’t right, in the eyes of society, for her to go to the team she oversaw, and break down.
Isobel had done well, navigated the sadness and hurt in Elise’s tone, the fact Jubal wouldn’t look at her. She could feel, deep down, that she had lost the trust of Scola, and Tiffany had remained in the background, head down, probably feeling like her partner did.
“I can get Reynolds in, if that’s what you want.”
No. The answer was no. She only nodded when the team were in agreement, a strange feeling of something ending too soon. Should she have pushed harder for them to investigate her? Should she have removed herself anyway?
“We have a case.” Jubal, again, broke the uncomfortable silence, “Maggie and OA, you’re needed at the scene, location has been sent to your phones, everyone else, we should head to the JOC.”
Jubal watched as the team left, waiting a few moments while Elise stood in silence in front of Isobel’s desk.
“Elise,” Isobel started, “I am sorry.”
Elise, to her own surprise, it seemed, nodded, “I know.”
As she left, Jubal moved in, “What did you tell your neighbour who filmed the test?”
Isobel sat back down, head lowered, hands pushed against her desk. “Her father was an undercover drug cop. No explanation needed.”
Jubal reached into his pocket, pulling out a key, new, just cut, placed in front of her on a stack of files she needed to review.
“A key to my apartment. I don’t want you to feel like you need to go to him, ever again, Isobel. None of us do.”
She nodded, the words ‘thank you’ stuck in her throat, because she was wondering if she was. Was she thankful, or was she hurt? Had she lost their trust in a moment of simply wanting to be okay?
“I appreciate that.”
The awkward silence hung in the air long after he’d left her office. Head down, tears building, she had let them down, her own team, people she would die to protect, because in a moment of hurt, anger and complete loneliness, she made the wrong choice.
Isobel poured coffee into her mug, hands trembling slightly, her focus never shifting from the liquid, even as she put the coffee pot back.
“I’m sorry.” She looked up to see Tiff standing in the doorway.
“Sorry for what?”
“For not speaking up in your office, today. We all have our reasons, we all make bad choices when we are under pressure and stress. You’ve saved me a few times when I’ve been there.”
Isobel nodded, it’s what she did. Saved her agents, no matter what time of day or night, she would answer the phone, she would be there, it was her job.
“Elise was right to be upset, you all have the right to be upset, and to pull me off the case, to pull me out of the JOC,” Isobel was trying to explain, no hard feelings.
Tiff stopped her, “No one wants that. We all come to you for help, but who do you go to? We see substance abuse a lot in this job, when you’re in the states, sometimes you do one plus one and get three right?”
Isobel tried to smile, “I have an appointment with the therapist attached to the office. It was a bad night, a bad call.”
Tiff agreed, “He never gave you the drugs, did he?”
Isobel shook her head.
“He’s evil, but he’s smart. You said that, and it’s true. Money is one thing, but having the entire FBI come down on you, he knew he’d never survive it.”
Isobel ducked her head again, taking a steady breath. “I appreciate you saying that, Tiff.”
“Of course, boss,” She went to turn, but stopped, “Scola also feels the same, but you know how he is with feelings.”
Isobel managed to smile again,”Thank you, both of you.”
When the day was finally over, Isobel managed to get to her car without being stopped by anyone. The last one to leave, it felt good to walk out without having to force a smile, or get pulled into small talk.
Elise had come by her office before she left, the hug she’d given her was tight and comforting, no words were exchanged other than goodbye, Jubal had told her to call if she needed anything, Scola promised he’d bring in decent coffee, and Tiff had joked that she would bring in her special mugs if it would help. Maggie offered breakfast pastry and OA told her running could help, and he’d happily run with her if she needed someone.
All of it she appreciated, but as she sat in her car she was happy to be alone, just for a moment before all her emotions picked up again.
As she put her car in drive she took some deep breaths, waiting until she was on the road before she turned the radio up, drowning out everything else.
She turned left instead of right, a conscious decision to drive away from her apartment. She didn’t want to go back there. She didn’t want to sit in silence, replaying the conversation she’d had with her team. She didn’t want to replay the looks in her head, when she stepped into the JOC, when she stepped out of the JOC, eyes on her.
She knew all of them were watching, why wouldn’t they? After what she had done, being in the same room as a man who had tried to kill them. A lot could be arranged in an hour, and although nothing was, the team didn’t know that for sure.
She drove, music loud, thoughts drowned out by drive time music. Her brain was fighting her at every intersection to take her home but she moved forward, a destination in mind, one that would help - she hoped.
That’s all she needed really, was someone to understand, someone to listen. She didn’t need a solution or someone to fix it, she could do that on her own, she just needed someone to take it all for an hour so she could sleep, so she could smile, so she could sit down and feel something besides negative emotions.
Isobel pulled the car over looking up at the apartment building, not sure if the choices she’d made were the right ones, but deep down hoping something would come of heading up to his apartment.
She wanted to explain, fully, in-depth, in detail, with tears and with laughter everything she’d gone through, she wanted someone to listen, and then she wanted to forget, speak it into existence and watch it disappear.
As she got out of her car, she looked around, she muttered words to herself, telling herself she was going to be okay, she would get through this, a habit she’d had since she was little that did her no good the night before, but might help her now.
She knew the hall, she knew the door, and knocking made her feel a little better, even if this evening could turn out to be more emotionally damaging than the last, but this was the decision she had made, she had already knocked, there was no going back now.
“Isobel.”
No going back at all.
“Hi.”