Chapter 83

"You're my attorney,"Jake growled into his phone. "You've got to do something."

"Agent Shepard, I assure you I'm doing everything that needs to be done in this situation."

"Everything but tell me how long until my suspension is lifted," Jake snapped.

"OPR has already cleared you. The last step is NPO. I'm meeting with the FBI's Public Affairs specialist tomorrow."

"You're joking. Some bad PR is holding this up?"

"Agent Shepard, this made the national press. The FBI isn't in the habit of handing out second chances. We are aiming to keep our perception that way."

"You're aware there's someone cutting down D.C. citizens with a scythe on our streets and you're telling me the FBI would rather worry about their public image than have more able bodied agents trying to stop these murders?"

"I'm telling you to be patient."

Patient! The vein in Jake's neck threatened to pop. "I've been patient. It's been four days. I can't put my life on hold for much longer. Isn't there anything you can do to speed up the process?"

"The legal system has rules in place for a reason. Hold tight and let me do my job, Agent Shepard."

"Well do it already so I can get back to doing mine!" Jake disconnected the call and slammed the phone down on the table, his confidence in his FBI appointed attorney at an all-time low. The man sounded like he was in his nineties, and he probably had just as many open cases on his docket.

Jake needed to get his suspension and house arrest situation cleared up or it wouldn't matter if he made any progress on his trace.

He'd called the phone number multiple times, listening to the message over and over, like the voice would change somehow. But it didn't. Jake could no longer avoid the truth. His father recorded that message, and this was the closest Jake had ever come to finding him.

Checking the tracing program he'd set was still running, Jake walked back to Dana's bedroom and finished packing his bag. He'd hoped his attorney would've given him the green light already. When he did, Jake needed to be ready.

The groan of floorboards made him stiffen. When the door creaked open, he hadn't been expecting Claire. She stood there, clear-eyed and alert, her gaze landing on Jake's bag.

"Are you going somewhere?" she asked.

"Eventually."

"Oh." She looked down, picking at the hem of her black sweater. "It was nice while it lasted, I guess."

"What was nice?"

"You, me, Dana, all under the same roof. It felt … normal."

"I'm not going anywhere yet," he assured Claire, steering her into the living room where he sat her down on the couch. Taking the chair across from her, he couldn't help staring.

"What?" Claire demanded. When Jake didn't answer, her paper-white skin paled even further. "Oh God! I did it again, didn't I? I fugued out!"

"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" he teased, trying to ease some of the fear he saw in her eyes.

"How long?"

Jake shrugged. "Not as long as before. Long enough to scare me."

Claire buried her face in her hands. "Why does this keep happening?"

Jake moved to the couch and tried to take her hand, but she leapt away from him. "Sorry," she muttered, pacing now. "I just hate this, ya know? It's scary not being able to trust myself, my memory."

Jake hated to push her, but he needed to know. "What's the last thing you remember?"

She paused. "The back porch, with you … and … oh God! Betty!" Claire sank down onto the floor. Jake rushed to her side. "She's dead, isn't she?" Claire sobbed.

Nodding, Jake took a seat beside her.

"The Reaper?" Claire asked.

Jake nodded again.

Claire sniffed, wiping her eyes with her shirt sleeve. "When is this going to stop?"

"Dana is working with the BAU as we speak. They'll figure it out."

"No, not the Reaper. Me. I don't want to keep phasing out, reliving terrible moments every time I come to. It hurts too much."

"I know this is hard, Claire, but we'll figure it out."

"Will we?" she whispered, her voice broken. "How? Sending me to another program, another doctor? It's not working."

"I wish I had the answers, Claire. I don't. But I can tell you we're not giving up."

She laughed. "Your packed bag says otherwise."

"I'm not going anywhere right now."

He meant what he was saying, but Claire was right. Eventually Jake would have to leave if he wanted to track down his father. Sighing, he let his head fall back, reconsidering his plans. It was an impossible situation. How could he choose one family over another? Wade and his mother were blood, but Dana and Claire, they were something more. They were the family he chose.