Bloody hell, you keep CoveOp reports too? Is this a thing every agent should do? Maybe I should keep one myself… Yes, it's Bex Baxter here. 17. English. Gallagher Girl. Zach, I hope you think I'm doing a good job here. You've trusted me with this so…I hope I don't let you down. You asked me to start from Budapest until when you returned so here it is.

So after…the Incident, we decided not to tell the adults or Liz. You didn't want to tell the adults because you'd lose their trust and I didn't want to tell Liz because…well, she's Liz. But you, being the weirdly loyal and noble one, told me to tell Macey to break it to her. I suppose you're right because Macey, unlike Cammie and I, get people and usually don't spend our time thinking about the best way to lie to people for their own good.

We stood there in the Labyrinth for a long time. You let me lean against you and you waited for me to calm down. We slowly made our way out into the still bright sky and that was all I remembered, I was still too much in shock. You pulled me through the tourists and traffic and immigration until we were on the earliest flight back to Heathrow. I don't know how you did it, Zach. Surely you care about Cammie as much as I do but you kept going despite everything. I froze, you know. I turned off all my spy instincts and blocked out my brain from screaming Mr. Solomon's past lectures and just let you lead me.

Then, you ridiculous git, left.

Not immediately, at least. Mum and Dad called and said that they needed help in Greece and to be honest, I can't remember all the details. I just remember breaking into a police station and drugging two policewomen. But I remember you. You were standing there, holding the file and staring off into the streets of Greece. Then I knew exactly what you wanted. Or at least, I saw that exact same look on Cammie before and I said what I would've told her, "Go. We're good here."

You glanced at my parents then back at me, your face had your signature half-smile but I could see that it wasn't in your eyes, "Thanks, Baxter. I owe you one."

"You bet," I called at you. But you probably didn't know because you were already gone. I told my parents about some rubbish that you needed some guy time (if that is such a thing, they certainly don't have it in movies). I know, lousy but it at least it worked! Or, um, you know, they were busy with work so they couldn't really care.

I went back to London on my own, the lead Mum and Dad found were taking them to Africa and school was starting in three weeks. I called Macey on the way home, as the familiar noise of London sounded around me. I think tears started to fall in the middle of the call because Macey suddenly said, "Right, I need to take you shopping in Oxford Street, Top Shop, Selfridges, whatever. Brightens anyone's day up. Also, you need some major girl time, too much time with Zach Goode is, well…not good."

"Don't be silly, Mace. You've got to finish your junior year training and you're halfway around the bloody planet." I said as I took out a tissue and blew my nose.

Macey fell silent for a while and said gloomily, "Well, I was going to fly over on my private jet but I suppose Dr. Fib's lectures are just as important."

I laughed through my tears, remembering one of my favorite professors (besides the one that teaches P&E), "Then get to it, McHenry. I'll call you everyday, I promise."

Two weeks later, you stumbled back into the apartment at two o' clock in the morning, covered in dried blood, filthy and not to mention, with a bottle of vodka in your hands.

"Bex…I…I need to get…" You slurred and staggered into the apartment.

"You better have a good explanation for this," I snapped as you clumsily closed the front door. I squared her shoulders and stood right in front of you. "Leaving for two weeks straight without a word? You're lucky I haven't reported you to Mrs. Morgan yet."

You squinted and looked at me, "Why didn't you?"

I ignored him. "I think the better question is why do you have that in your hands?" I jerked my chin at the bottle of clear liquid, which you proceeded to take a swig out of. I caught sight of the label. "Jeez, Zach, is that vodka?" I snatched it out of your hands, "How much did you drink?"

"Never mind the vodka," you said, wrenching it out of my hands. "I need your help." And you staggered into the guest bedroom, tripping and slamming into walls on your way.

I rolled my eyes, "Zach, it's bloody two o' clock in the morning. Also, you're drunk. Leave it until the sun comes up and when you're not intoxicated."

"No, I need to be drunk for this. I…I can't do it when I'm sober." You replied. The ceiling and I shared an exasperated glance and I followed you into your room.

You flicked on the light and sank into the armchair at the corner of the room, "Lift the mattress and take out the notebook." I could see you better in the light now and you looked more terrible that I imagined. Your hair was matted, bruises on your cheekbones, clothes filthy with stains and what looked suspiciously like dried blood. You looked like you had been sleeping in the streets. Maybe you did.

I lifted the mattress with a grunt and pulled out a black rectangle, "Right, we've got your stupid notebook. Now can you clean yourself up?" I tossed it onto the bedside table and went to his closet of clean clothes.

"No, Bex. Don't do that yet." You tried to pull yourself up in the armchair but failed miserably. Your head lolled to one side, eyes half closed and you chest rose up and down rapidly. "I need you to write it down. In the notebook, please."

"Nope," I shook my head, starting towards you with an armful of fresh pyjamas. "I'm getting you in the shower and brushing your teeth. We leave this to the morning."

"Washing up can wait. I can't trust myself to tell the truth when I'm sober. I…I need to tell you where I went and what I did."

Oh.

"I'm not sorry for being drunk." You started. I rolled my eyes. "Secondly, I'm sorry about what you have to hear next." You sounded…regretful. That was surprising. Since I didn't know Zach Goode could sound like anything else except for annoying and cocky. You shifted in your chair, "You can walk out of this anytime you want. I would."

"Don't be ridiculous, Zach. What could you have possible done?" I responded dryly, flipping to a blank page and began writing.

"I went to New York, Singapore, Switzerland and finally back to London." You began and your gaze drifted out the window. Your eyes didn't seem to focus on anything, just the past memories in your head. You ran a hand through your hair, swallowed and said softly, "I had to find…people. People who I knew in the Circle, the ones who trained me and worked with me and worked with Catherine."

"You prat!" I hissed, jerking my head up to glare at you. "They could've killed you."

"I had to, Bex. After Budapest, I had to go looking for more answers. I had enough of…of waiting around and false alarms and worrying."

A knife twisted in my gut, "Please don't tell me they told you that they really did…" kill her. If I weren't sitting on the edge of the bed, I would've stumbled from the shock.

You shook your head, "Relax, Baxter. I don't know anything about Cammie more than you do."

"What? Surely-"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing!" You got up and paced agitatedly in front of me, your hands fisting through your hair. "No one could tell me anything about Cammie and it's all my fault. It's my fault that we're stuck in London. It's my fault Liz can't find anything. It's my fault the entire faculty at Gallagher is having sleepless nights."

"Hey, don't say that." I scrambled for something comforting to say. "If no one you know knows where Cammie is, you wouldn't know either."

"Yes but they aren't my mother's son, are they?" You turned sharply on your heels to face me. Then you leaned down and grabbed my shoulders and shook me. "Don't you see it, Bex?" Your eyes were boring straight into me. "If I hadn't openly betrayed the Circle yet, I would be with my mother right now. I would know where she was because she would've taken me. I would know what plans she had for Cammie because I would be the one next to her carrying it out. That was why Joe was so interested in me in the first place, because I had the perfect position to know everything. Everything about my mother, about her future plans, her assets…" You dropped your gaze and looked down into my lap. "If only I stayed a bit longer, I would have known every step they would take this summer and Cammie would be here."

"So why am I still writing this?" My throat was dry.

"You know what Blackthorne is for, right? Cammie must've told both of you." You let go of me and headed towards the window, your back facing me. I saw your reflection in the window pane- blank and jaw tightening. Your shoulders were much sharper than usual. He hasn't been eating much, I noted.

"Yeah." I said edgily. "She said it in her reports."

"And after we…you know, we're trained to forget it, like how normal people delete bad memories automatically. In the morning, I won't remember it as clearly." You pointed limply at the notebook I was writing in. "That is my conscience and I need it to…remind me." You started to drum your fingers irregularly on the windowsill. "Also, sober Zach does not like to face his conscience. Sober Zach does not like to talk about this."

You were now referring to yourself in third person. Maybe you downed more than half a bottle. Either that or you were terrible at holding his alcohol.

"So you write drunk in this?" I raised an eyebrow.

You shook your head, "Never. But just this time, you will be privy to my thoughts."

"So tell me what you did, Zach."

"New York. Janet. I don't really know if that's her real name. Mother just calls her that." You said. "I stole a cab and grabbed her. I took her to a dark alley and started to question her. Oh gosh, Bex…" You moaned as if in pain and had another mouthful of vodka. For a moment, I could see your lips shining under the moonlight, coated with vodka. "I don't know what I was doing. It was like white-hot coals inside my gut burning out everything good in me. The me who helps Liz with experiments and helps you to work out was gone. Like really…really gone."

"Then I started to ask her where my mother was. She…she couldn't answer me. She said she didn't know. She said that Catherine went off on her own, she's been silent for weeks. I thought she was lying, Bex. How could she not know? Everyone in the cell would know where his or her boss was. I don't know what happened next," You rubbed your face with your hands. "I started to smell blood and I heard screaming. There was so much blood. I didn't know what was going on." Your voice went higher and softer, almost whining confusedly. "And Janet was just lying there on the ground. Of course, I put here there. I think…at that moment…I wanted her lying there."

I swallowed, remembering a snippet from Cam's CoveOp reports, where you said that Cam really didn't want to know what you had done. I stayed quiet and kept writing. My pen dug deeper into the paper. Thoughts churned in me but I let you keep talking, seeing as now words began to tumble out of uncontrollably.

"Singapore. I kicked Mr. Tan into the Singapore River." You laughed bitterly. "He couldn't tell me anything either so…I lost control. It was so weird losing control. I was screaming at myself to stop and stop and stop but nothing happened. I kept hitting, kicking and before I knew it, his body was floating like a leaf. Have you ever seen leaves floating on top of the water, Bex?"

"Yes I have, Zach." I replied emotionlessly.

"You're getting mad at me, aren't you?" I could actually hear the smirk in your voice. "You're going to throw me out the first thing in the morning."

"No. I'm not." I said, keeping the pen in my hand moving. I shifted on the mattress, I couldn't help wondering for the first time if you were really how you were described in Cammie's journals- the broken boy with the dark past. I thought she had been clouded by love and all that rubbish but the way you were speaking changed my mind.

"Don't lie to me, Baxter. No one wants Zach Goode around."

"Just continue."

"Switzerland. Same thing happened. Except that this time, it was a lake. Her eyes matched the color of the water. Ingrid was a very pretty Swiss woman, until I broke her nose." You sighed. Not in remorse, I suspected, but at a good memory. "I bet she rues the day she taught me that trick."

I clutched the pen tighter.

"London. I…chucked Danny into a rubbish chute. I'm going to spare you the gory details this time. You're white as a sheet, Baxter." You chuckled. Yes, the git had the nerves to chuckle. "I took them all to hospital afterwards. They'll be fine."

I swallowed and put the pen down gently. I leafed through what I wrote, debating on what I should say.

"Bex, talk to me. Please, say something." You turned away from the window. You took a few drunken steps towards me and I don't know if you have some hidden talent for theatrics but you were standing in a pool of moonlight like some sort of fallen angel of the night. (What? It was seriously movie-esque!) Your back was stooped like an old man's, face haggard and thin. (Mental note: Make Zach a full English breakfast ASAP.) Your hands were trembling at your sides. You looked down at me with dark eyes and I really didn't want to know what they had seen. "You can say that you hate me. I wouldn't blame you. Zachary Goode may just hate himself for this too."

"If Macey were here, she'd say that something good came out of this." I said, thinking of our daily phone calls and feeling nothing but wanting to ring her up immediately. "You put more than half the cell out of action, your mother should be weaker now."

You shook your head, "It doesn't feel like it, Bex. She's still up to something, somewhere. It might happen now, or tomorrow, or maybe even next year." I went quiet because you know what, Zach? You are usually right about things concerning the Circle.

"I'm not going to report you." I said softly, after a few moments of thinking. "But I hope you know what you did was-"

"Well, what did you expect out of a person who is trained to be an assassin?" You spat. Then let out a long sigh. "If anything, Baxter, I've learnt that you can never completely change who you are. I'm still Circle-trained or Blackthorne-trained or whatever you call it, on the inside." You went tiredly back to your chair and sank down into it. You lifted your vodka bottle and swished it. " I mean, did you know that the very first assassins celebrated their killings by drugging themselves into stupor?"

"Stop it. Zach, you're not trained to be assassin anymore. Do you hear me?" I walked over to you and grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled your face close to mine. I could smell the alcohol on your breath. "You will never be trained to be an assassin anymore nor will you ever be one. You're with us now, do you understand? You're going to be like Mr. Solomon, all right? I'm pretty sure he hurt or killed people before, when he was still in the Circle, like you were. But that doesn't mean he stays a criminal forever. He came over to the good side, like you did. He changed for the better, like you're doing right now. And now he's a good person, like you're going to be."

I tried to sound as convincing as possible, willing that you'll believe what I just said. But you just stared right back at me without saying a word. I could see that you didn't believe a single word. Exasperated and tired, I let go of you and turned to the door, "On second thought, I'll let you wash up by yourself. I'll return your bloody notebook in the morning."

Something tugged in my chest and lingered at the door, looking over my shoulder, "But I really meant it, Zach. You've proved yourself a hundred times over, to Cam, to Mr. Solomon, to me…that you, surprisingly, are not bad of a guy." You turned your head and blinked at me.

I was about to close your door when you said, "You would've done the same. By the way, I can see why Grant likes you so much."

"Nothing happened with Grant and I." I clarified, throwing my hands up. "Why does everyone think we were together? It was only one work out session!" Jeez, I probably won't even see him again…

"Riiight."

"Be quiet, you drunk arse."

"Hey, Baxter?"

"Yes, Goode?"

"You're not going to tell Cammie any of this, right? Not exactly my proudest moments."

"That you have a diary that you put down all your darkest secrets and feelings in?" I smirked, holding up your journal-slash-CoveOps-report. My gaze flickered to the worn pages in it, wondering what else was in there. Things just as bizarre as tonight? Secrets of the Circle? Secret romantic fantasies of Cammie? On second thought, I'd rather not know about that.

"Erm, that and everything I told you tonight."

"But I'm still going to tell her that you ran away." I replied.

"You know she's going to ask about it right after you tell her that." You said.

"Then it'll be your choice if you want to be completely honest with her or not." And without wanting to hear what you said next, I closed the door. I went back to my room and replayed what you had said in my head. Soon, I couldn't stop myself and switched on my phone. My finger still instinctively hovered over Cammie's number for a moment when I remembered that it would be pointless. So I scrolled down a bit more and waited for Macey McHenry to pick up the phone.

"Bex? Isn't it…" I could hear her calculating. "Like, two thirty in the morning over there?"

"Yeah, I'm awake at this hour, thanks to Zach Goode." I replied, rubbing my eyes. The tiredness was finally catching onto me. "He's back and…we talked for a while."

"Well? What did he say?" Macey asked.

I filled her in quickly but left out the details. "Does Zach feel like a lost cause to you? I mean, what he said and did…" I trailed off.

"Bex, I know what lost causes are and what they do. I've seen enough of them to last a lifetime." A heavy sigh and she continued. "I thought I was one myself for a while before I came to Gallagher. And lost causes can't find their way back without any help. So trust me when I say if Zachary Goode was a lost cause, he wouldn't have come home."

A/N: This chapter was seriously hard to write. I wrote it about 4 times in Zach's POV until I went 'screw this, let's get a Gallagher Girl in here to do the job.' Then proceeded to rewrite it from Bex's POV for about 3 times. I'm probably breaking some sort of author-reader contract by writing in her POV and if you hate it/find it weird/terrible, I completely understand.

I apologize profusely for making you guys wait for 7 whole months and the good news is: I've begun to lay out the details of Zach's POV for the 5th book. (The book is filled with Post-Its! That's a huge step already!) I've also finished the 6th book and I have a rough idea of what's going to happen in it and how this somewhat fanfic series is going to end. Thank you again for reading and sticking with me. I really do love all of you.

Cheers,

AwesomePP