The Mistakes and Memories of Edward Townsend

Roseville, Virginia

Nothing about his decision is rational. Frankly, it just isn't a reasonable idea to go see someone you've hated most of your life. But Edward is too tired to care now and he's got a score to settle with Catherine Goode, so he takes step after heavy step to Sublevel Two.

Abby is in her room, taking a shower as far as the sound of running water suggests, and knowing her, she won't be out for another twenty minutes. He does not plan to tell her about this visit anyway; too many questions would arise, none of which he wants to answer, and it's not pertinent to ongoing or future missions. It is just Edward Townsend, confronting the demon of his past. He has to see her locked behind that glass in her cell, unable to hurt anyone anymore.

He forgets that despite all the death she's caused and destruction she's wreaked, none of it was physical for him.

Foot in front of foot. Calm his pounding heart. Breathe in. Breathe out.

When he enters the elevator to the Sublevels and stands still to let the retinal scanner read his eyes, he's wondering if it's a mistake.

When he exits the elevator, he's one hundred percent sure it is when he sights Zach crouched in front of his sitting mother. Scowling, he stands when Edward arrives, and looks between his father and mother like a small child caught between two divorced parents.

Edward can't help but be polite like the British gentleman he is and says, "Am I interrupting something?"

Zach turns away from his mother and makes his eyes big to communicate a feeling everyone feels around Catherine: For the love of everything that is holy, don't leave me alone with her because I want to kill her and myself simultaneously. "No, you're not," Zach says, his voice a little too high. "I was just saying goodbye."

Edward raises an eyebrow questioningly as if to say, For now or permanently?

His son's firm brow, so much like his own, tells him, Forever.

Right. That's why Edward is here. To say goodbye and good riddance to Catherine Goode before she's locked in a maximum security prison at Langley and he never gets to scream at her again. He levels an icy gaze at the woman behind his son, but she doesn't notice. She just presses her hands to the glass, as if to touch Zach's shoulder and back, and meets Edward's stony glare with a familiar honey-sweet smile that makes him- and Zach, by the look of it- want to find the nearest trash can and vomit. "Zachie, dear, have you met your father?" Catherine says, her words dragged on to a length that she sounds slightly drunk. She waves to Edward like he's her old friend. "This is Agent Edward Townsend, honey," she drawls, her eyelashes fluttering. "Isn't he so handsome? You look like him so much, Zachie dear. And with you two here with me, it's just like a little family reunion. Wonderful, isn't it?"

Oh, yes. Positively fantastic. Absolutely spiffing.

Zach's face is dark, probably having the exact same thoughts. "I'm going to leave now," he says awkwardly, not looking back at his mother at all and brushing past Edward with a little reassuring physical contact. "When you move her," he says in a stage whisper, "don't let her out of your sight. She's planning something, I just know it, because she hates this place and she sounds much too...what's the word?"

"Happy?" Edward casts a suspicious look at Catherine.

Zach shakes his head. "No. Insane." He pats his father on the back. "Have fun." Edward swears in return and watches him leave.

He is alone with Catherine.

All he can remember is how cold she was. Her cold hands on his bare chest, her cold lips on his neck.

He shivers as he approaches her.

"Townsend, darling, what a lovely surprise," Catherine drawls, her smile lovely like a Southern beauty's, her eyes gleaming viciously with evil. "What brings you here, to my home." She draws out the last word, ever so raising Edward's anxiety. "Isn't my home nice, dearie? Rachel and Joseph were so nice to me earlier. They brought me lots of things, like pillows and blankets and toys. Look what they gave me," she says, thrusting an array of colorful crayons and paper at him against the glass. "They were here asking me questions and they gave me stuff to draw with. Isn't that charming?"