John drew in a deep breath and began slowly and methodically to speak: "Tom Langan, I have a warrant for your arrest on charges of accepting bribes, money laundering, and aiding and abetting in the kidnapping of Brenda Barrett…"

"You sick son-of-a-bitch!" Jerry shouted as he lunged for Tom, but Agent Kincaid deftly stepped in front of Tom, giving Jax time to pull Jerry back.

"Jerry, just shut up!" Jax spat out through clenched teeth. He wasn't sure how he felt about Tom at this moment, but he sure as hell knew that Brenda was upset enough about this situation, without Jerry adding to that stress.

Tom's head was spinning. He couldn't believe that this was happening to him. "John, is this some kind of a sick joke?" Tom asked incredulously as Agent Kincaid removed Tom's gun and badge from him and then pulled Tom's arms behind his back and cuffed him, while John began Mirandizing him and Charlie barked noisily at their feet.

Jax pulled Brenda into his arms, as she stood watching the scene in silence, horrified at the events happening in her own house. Still seething but a safe distance from Tom now, Jerry watched smugly, more certain than ever that he had pegged Tom correctly from the first moment he'd laid eyes on him.

"You have the right to remain silent…" John droned, "Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to counsel before and during interrogation. If you cannot afford counsel, it will be provided to you at no charge. Do you understand these rights as I've explained them to you?"

"John, this is me -- Tom -- your partner and best friend. You don't really believe any of this, do you?" Tom asked plaintively, but John remained impassive.

"Do you understand these rights as I've explained them to you?" John repeated, avoiding Tom's eyes.

Tom ignored John's rote question. "You've known me since college, John. We've been together since Quantico," Tom said evenly.

John tried to block out Tom's words and continued to stare past him.

"You were best man at my wedding, and you held me up after my divorce," Tom pleaded a little louder and more ragged, as he continued to try to appeal to his friend, John, rather than the agent, John, but his pleas were falling on deaf ears. Tom was feeling frantic now as he finally shouted at John, "You know I'd never sell out to Leone -- and you especially know I'd never do anything to hurt the woman I love!"

The words were out of his mouth before he knew it, and Tom instantly regretted them. Brenda gasped at his revelation, while Jax and Jerry were startled as well, not so much by what he had revealed, but by the way in which he had revealed it. God, Tom thought, this day just kept getting worse and worse!

Brenda was reeling from everything that was happening, not the least of which was Tom's unexpected declaration of love for her. She suddenly felt dizzy and leaned into Jax's body for support.

"Are you okay?" Jax asked, alarmed by Brenda's sudden pallor.

"I'm fine. I just need to sit down," Brenda said softly, as Jax immediately led her to the couch.

"Brenda, I… I'm sorry…" Tom offered lamely, mortified that he had allowed her to learn of his feelings now, of all times. She was supposed to be avoiding stress at all costs, and here he was weighing her down with a truckload of it.

"You're pathetic!" Jerry spat out at Tom. "You don't know what it means to love someone the way Jax and Brenda love each other."

"Jerry, stop it!" Jax said tersely.

"Do you understand these rights as I've explained them to you?" John asked once again, seeming to ignore the other drama that was unfolding in the room.

Tom was oblivious to everything but Brenda now. "God, Jax -- is she all right? … If anything happens to this baby because of me…"

"If anything happens to this baby because of you, I'll kill you!" Jerry threatened, moving toward Tom once again.

"Jerry, either shut up or get out!" Jax's warned, his face a study in controlled anger.

Jerry saw the fire in Jax's eyes, and he knew that he -- and not Tom -- owned that anger, and he suddenly felt ashamed that he had lost his temper and added to this already chaotic situation. He watched as Jax bent over Brenda, who sat hunched forward on the couch. Her complexion had gone from glowing to gray in a matter of seconds, and he knew that he had played a major part in causing that.

Tom swallowed hard as he watched Jax, huddled over Brenda and whispering softly to her, caressing her with his words and his hands, trying to soothe away the hurt that had been brought down on her. God - - he hated himself so much at this moment. He was responsible for this chaos -- all of it. Even though he was innocent of the things he was being charged with by the bureau, he was guilty of loving her, and she probably viewed that as the ultimate betrayal of their relationship. She had wanted only friendship, and he had craved more -- much more. He suddenly felt more humbled by the inadvertent admission of his love for Brenda than he did by everything the agency was accusing him of. What's a little charge of aiding and abetting in a kidnapping and consorting with known criminals in comparison to completely shattering the trust of the woman you love -- even if that love was only from afar? Life was over for him as far as he could see. Even his dreams were shattered now because, without Brenda's friendship, he had nothing to fuel his dreams.

"Do you understand these rights as I've explained them to you?" John repeated impassively once again.

Tom glanced at John, who seemed to look right through him; then at Jerry, who looked at him with contempt; then at Jax, who looked at him with doubt in his eyes; and finally at Brenda, who had yet to look at him at all since his profession of love. His will to fight was suddenly gone. It didn't matter what happened to him from this moment on; he had lost Brenda forever, and everything else paled in comparison. He looked back at John and answered quietly, "Yes, just get me out of here -- now."

John nodded wordlessly and then bent down to grab Charlie, who had finally stopped barking. "I'll take Charlie," he offered to Tom. It was the first personal comment he'd made to Tom since he'd arrived. Tom nodded slightly and then slumped forward as Agent Kincaid put his hand in the middle of Tom's back and pushed him toward the front door.

"Wait!" Brenda's voice startled everyone. "I want a moment with him," she said as she stood and shakily started to walk to the foyer, where Tom and Agent Kincaid were poised by the open front door.

"Brenda…" Jax moved to stop her, worried that this would be too much for her, but Brenda held her hand up in protest, and Jax reluctantly stepped back to allow her access to Tom.

Tom turned in her direction, and marveled at how she still had the ability to make his heart stop just by looking at him -- even though he knew she hated him now. Involuntarily, his eyes swept over her, and he almost gasped at how beautiful she was, even under these circumstances. Some color had returned to her cheeks -- most likely due to the anger she felt for him now -- and her eyes, though tear-filled, still had the ability to pull him effortlessly into their endless depths. She was close enough now that he could smell her perfume, and he closed his eyes and drank in the scent of her, like a condemned man might enjoy a last glass of a fine liqueur before those final, irrevocable steps are taken.

He steeled himself for the inevitable slap that was sure to follow once she was within arm's length, but it never came. Instead, Tom felt her arms wrap around him in a warm embrace, and his eyes flew open at the feel of her breath on his ear as she whispered, "I know you're innocent, and I'll do everything I can to prove it. You were my lifeline once; let me be yours now."

She pulled back from the embrace, but kept her hands on Tom's shoulders, and spoke quietly, "Let Jax and me take care of Charlie. He's like family to me, just like you are. And let us help take care of you, too."

Tom's eyes filled with tears and his heart was in his throat as he stared into her eyes. He saw sincerity in those beautiful eyes of hers, and his heart quickened as he saw love for him in there as well. Perhaps not the love that he longed for from her, but love nevertheless.

"We have to be going now. We have a plane to catch," John said, interrupting the quiet moment between Tom and Brenda. They both nodded, and then John released Charlie to Brenda and motioned for Agent Kincaid to take Tom outside to the car.

Tom glanced back at Brenda, giving her one last look before leaving. "Thank you," he said quietly, his voice catching in his throat, and she nodded and smiled. That smile was like a new lease on life for Tom -- suddenly life was once again worth living because she believed in him. Tom knew he could survive anything now -- even a frame that was tight enough to convince the US Attorney's Office of his guilt.

Brenda slowly shut the door behind Tom, John, and Agent Kincaid, and then stooped down to pat Charlie on the head. "Everything's going to be fine, Charlie. Tom's going to be back with you before you know it." She stood back up and turned around to see Jax and Jerry both staring at her with concern on their faces. "I'm fine," she said softly, wiping the tears from her eyes as she walked into Jax's outstretched arms.

"I think you need to go upstairs and lie down now," Jax said, kissing her lightly on the head. She looked better than she had a few minutes before, but he was still worried that the stress of the day was going to take its toll on her.

"No," Brenda said firmly as she shook her head, "I want to be down here to be in on the plans for helping Tom."

Jerry stood there staring at Brenda, his mouth agape. "What the hell are you talking about here -- helping Tom? The man's been charged with being an accessory in your kidnapping, Brenda!"

"He may have been charged, but he's not guilty!" she retorted, her chin tilted upward in defiance.

Jax recognized Brenda's patented look of determination immediately, and he knew she would neither give up her notion of Tom's innocence nor go up to bed any time soon. "I want you to sit back on the couch then, and we'll talk about this situation," Jax finally said, as he guided her to the couch and then sat down beside her.

"What do you mean, talk about this situation, Jax? What the bloody hell is there to talk about? I told you before that the man was responsible for this, and I've been proven right!" Jerry exploded, following them from the foyer into the living room. He stood directly across from where Jax and Brenda both sat staring angrily at him -- Jax, for Jerry's outburst that was adding to Brenda's stress; and Brenda, for Jerry's adamant insistence that Tom was guilty. "And I'm more certain than ever now that he's the one who planted that story in the Inquisitor, too…" he added without thinking.

"Jerry, will you please just shut up!" Jax warned through gritted teeth. He couldn't believe Jerry had just let slip about the garbage in the Inquisitor -- now, of all times! "If you can't keep quiet, then get out -- and I mean NOW!"

"What story, Jerry?" Brenda asked, puzzled by Jerry's mention of a story.

Jerry remained silent. A sudden look of contrition passed over his face as he glanced lamely at Jax for forgiveness for inadvertently mentioning the story in the National Inquisitor.

"I asked what story you're talking about," Brenda repeated, looking from Jerry to Jax, and realizing that Jax was very aware of whatever Jerry had so obliquely referred. "Is one of you going to answer my question, or not?" she asked, again looking back and forth between the brothers. "Is this what you and Jerry were discussing when I came downstairs earlier, Jax -- what you were afraid I couldn't handle?"

Jax sighed, and shot Jerry another exasperated look and then pulled Brenda into his arms. "The National Inquisitor ran a front page story on us in this week's edition of the rag. Jerry saw a copy of it at General Hospital this morning and brought it right over to show me." Brenda nodded, bracing herself as Jax continued. "It was full of innuendoes and outright lies, but they did know about the pregnancy, Brenda, and they quoted an unnamed source in the article."

"And you and Jerry just naturally assumed that Tom was this unnamed source?" Brenda asked. Jax looked sheepishly away from Brenda. "Where is this article? I want to read it for myself," Brenda demanded, looking from Jax to Jerry.

Jerry glanced at Jax, who hesitantly nodded his approval, and then walked around to the table where he'd dropped the paper when Brenda had found them earlier. He picked it up and carried it around to Brenda, reluctantly handing it to her. "I'm sorry," he said quietly to both Jax and Brenda.

Brenda unfolded the paper and involuntarily gasped as she saw the glaring headlines: "MIRACLE OR MASQUERADE? … Is Pregnant Model Really Back from the Dead -- or Has She Just Been Hiding From Her Billionaire Boyfriend?" Quickly she read the accompanying article, breathing slowly and deeply, trying to control her mounting anger that she felt at the invasion of their privacy and the audacity of this publication to print such blatant lies about her and Jax, built on half-truths gathered from this "unnamed source" of theirs.

"Now do you understand why we think Tom is the unnamed source and could also be involved in your kidnapping?" Jerry asked as Brenda disgustedly tossed the paper onto the coffee table.

"It's not Tom," Brenda said resolutely, leaning back on the couch and crossing her arms in front of her.

"Sweetie," Jax began, "I hate to think that Tom was responsible for any of this, but it all adds up…"

"The unnamed source is not Tom, and Tom had nothing to do with Leone's men grabbing me!" Brenda insisted. "I don't care how much you two might think it all adds up -- it doesn't!"

"Brenda, calm down," Jax soothed. "I don't want to believe that Tom was involved in any of this, but it all makes logical sense." He went on to recount the entire hypothesis of Tom's involvement that Jerry had laid out for him earlier.

Brenda listened patiently as Jax related everything that he and Jerry had theorized. "You're right," she said quietly once Jax had finished, "it does make sense here," she pointed to her head, "but it doesn't make sense here," she pointed to her heart. "And this is what I've learned to trust," she added, continuing to point to her heart. "In my heart, I know that Tom is innocent of everything -- including talking to that rag. And I have to trust in what my heart tells me. It's never steered me wrong."

Jerry couldn't believe she was defending Tom based solely on her emotional reaction to him. "What about when you trusted that slime ball, Sonny Corinthos? Are you saying that your heart didn't steer you wrong there?" Jerry shook his head and laughed scornfully.

"Jerry! That's enough!" Jax yelled angrily at his brother, infuriated that he'd invoked Corinthos's name now, of all times. "Just get out of here -- NOW!"

Jerry hung his head, and murmured, "I'm sorry," before starting toward the front door.

"No!" Brenda held up her hand for Jerry to stay. "He has a point, Jax. I did believe in Sonny, but I wouldn't have had I truly trusted my heart about him." She paused momentarily as Jax gave her a questioning look.

"But you said yourself that you loved him…" Jax began. "Are you saying now that you didn't?"

Brenda shook her head. "No, I did love him. What I'm saying is that I knew in my heart all along that I couldn't trust him, but I ignored that little voice of doubt inside of me because I wanted to believe so much what he was telling me -- that he was not involved with the mob and that I was the most important thing in his life."

She took Jax's hands in hers. "With you, my heart told me from the start that I could trust anything you said or did -- and I have. It's the same way for me with Tom. I felt comfortable with him from the beginning, and it hit me that last night I was at the cabin -- the reason why I felt so at ease with him. He reminds me of you, Jax -- his mannerisms, his sensitivity, and most of all his heart. I got to know that heart pretty well in those three weeks we were together. Now, I admit that I had no clue as to the extent of his feelings for me, but I always knew he could never and would never knowingly do anything to hurt me -- including talking to a magazine like the Inquisitor -- just like you wouldn't, Jax."

Jax smiled warmly at her, no longer jealous of Tom and suddenly understanding why she always seemed so comfortable with Tom and why she could not be dissuaded from her belief in Tom's innocence. "If your heart trusts that he's innocent of everything, then who am I to doubt that?" he said as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

"You're joking, aren't you, Jax?" Jerry was dumbfounded by Jax's apparent blanket acceptance of Tom's innocence on all counts based solely on Brenda's feelings. "Brenda admitted that her emotions are all over the place because of these hormones she's got coursing through her now. What if she can't trust her own judgment because of those hormones?"

Jax gave Jerry a sharp look that made him want to wither. "I trust Brenda's heart now and always, and if she feels that Tom is innocent, then that's enough for me to believe it, too. Now I plan to do whatever I can to help find actual proof of his innocence that will hold up in court."

"Thank you, Jax!" Brenda cried as she climbed onto Jax's lap, taking his face in her hands. "Thank you for believing in me like this, and for wanting to help Tom, too. I know it won't be easy, but he's important to me…"

"He's important to both of us," Jax interrupted her. "We wouldn't be together if it weren't for him.''

Jerry shook his head as he listened to Jax. "Well, I STILL think he helped Leone's men snatch Brenda, and it's gonna take more than just Brenda's gut feeling that he's innocent to convince me otherwise."

"How about Charlie?" Brenda asked, looking up at Jerry.

"What about him?" Jerry asked, glancing over at the golden retriever, who had popped his head up as soon as Brenda had mentioned his name.

"You know how important Charlie is to Tom, and how much Tom loves him, right?" Brenda continued to press Jerry.

"Yeah, but what's this got to do with Tom's involvement with Leone in kidnapping you?" Jerry asked. "'Cause if you're trying to say that Tom couldn't possibly be a bad guy just because he loves his dog, then I KNOW your hormones are controlling your brain! There are lots of animal lovers out there who are also dangerous criminals, Brenda."

"You're probably right, Jerry," Brenda readily agreed, "but do you think very many of those criminals would willingly hurt the animal they loved in the commission of a crime?"

Jax and Jerry were both lost now. "What are you getting at, Brenda?" Jax asked, as curious about her point as Jerry was now.

"The men who kidnapped me drugged Charlie to get him out of the way," she pointed out. "Do you really think that Tom would allow Charlie to be hurt in any way? Now, if he had taken Charlie with him that night rather than leaving him with me, then I might be inclined to wonder about his involvement, but he didn't. He left Charlie with me, which is why the kidnappers had to put him out of commission to get to me. Tom loves Charlie like he was a member of his own family. He probably loves Charlie in much the same way you love Jerry, Jax…"

"At this point, he probably loves him MORE than I love Jerry," Jax quipped.

"Hey! I'm hurt by that remark, little brother!" Jerry shot back. "And I don't like being compared to a dog very much either."

"Will you two be serious here for a minute?" Brenda demanded, hoping that they understood her underlying point in all of this. " Do you understand what I'm saying, Jer?"

"Yeah, I guess I do… Tom wouldn't do anything that might hurt Charlie, no matter what it might net him in the end," Jerry admitted finally. "So he probably wasn't involved in your kidnapping in any way…"

Brenda nodded. "So, will you help us prove his innocence, Jer?" she asked anxiously.

"Oh, all right," Jerry said reluctantly, eliciting a squeal from Brenda as she jumped up and hugged him tightly around the neck. "But I reserve the right to change my mind back again if we uncover even one little shred of evidence that he's been involved with Leone all along," he added as Brenda pulled away from him.

"Agreed," Brenda said as she pulled Jax up on the other side of her and put her arms around both of their waists, "but I know that you won't find anything. Tom is a good man, Jerry, and I think you'll come to realize that soon enough."

Jerry rolled his eyes at that statement, thinking it would be a cold day in hell before he'd ever see Tom Langan as a good man, but he decided not to point that fact out to Brenda right now.

Jax hugged Brenda to him, and then pulled away from her, looking into her tired eyes. "Brenda, I really think you should go upstairs and lie down now. You look like you're about to drop from exhaustion."

"I am feeling a little tired," Brenda admitted. Who was she kidding? She was totally drained by the afternoon's emotional events.

"I imagine you are," Jax said, as he walked with Brenda to the stairs. "You've had the equivalent of an emotional marathon today. Dr. Meadows would have a fit if she knew what you've been through in the last hour or so."

"Yeah, she would," Brenda nodded, stopping at the foot of the stairs. "I can make it up by myself," she said, kissing him softly on the lips. "You and Jerry start planning strategy right away. I don't want Tom to have to be in jail any longer than necessary. We owe him, Jax." She glanced down at her rounded abdomen, and ran her hand across it, caressing it gently as Jax put his hand over hers and did the same. "This little one and I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for Tom," she said reverently. "He literally breathed his life into us. We can't sit back and allow his life to be stolen from him now," she finished, looking up at Jax, her eyes bright with tears.

"We won't," he promised, as he kissed her again and then watched her climb the stairs to their room. He turned to Jerry after Brenda was out of earshot, his optimism quickly replaced by the reality of the task ahead. "I hope we have a few more miracles coming our way because it's going to take nothing short of a miracle to find the flaw in a frame that would be tight enough to fool the US Attorney's Office!"

David Sikes watched his wife as she slept fitfully in her hospital bed. Seeing her shiver slightly, he reached over to bring her blankets up over her shoulders, gently running his hand over her cheek as he did so. Damned gloves! he thought as the latex of his hand prevented him from actually feeling Gwen's skin. He had always loved caressing her skin. She always used this expensive body lotion that smelled so good and made her skin feel like spun silk to him. Now all he could smell was the antiseptic soap he'd used when he'd scrubbed just outside her room, and all he could feel was the latex barrier that prevented his flesh from touching hers.

The gloves were not the only things preventing his flesh from touching hers. His entire body was covered, in fact. He wore sterile surgical garb from his head to his feet, to prevent any contamination of Gwen. Even the doctors and nurses, who tended to her 'round the clock, wore the identical garb. They all looked like a strange race of identical aliens, he thought. He wondered how Gwen managed to recognize any of them, since the only way she could identify them was by their eyes or their voices, but she did. He suddenly realized that he was thankful for this brilliant disguise that he was forced to wear for the next couple weeks. Perhaps he could keep his guilt and his pain hidden from Gwen beneath the mask and the gown he wore. Without them, Gwen would have seen the change in him immediately, and he doubted that she would even recognize the shell of a man he'd become. But with them, he could hide whom he'd become…at least for a little while longer…until she was stronger…until she was well again…and then he'd explain and she'd understand why he'd done what he'd done…at least, that's what he hoped…

The door opened and another gowned and masked figure entered the room, carrying another liter of IV fluids and a tray with syringes and sterile swabs. David couldn't tell if the person was male or female, but, judging from their slight build, he assumed it was a woman -- a nurse, most likely. He smiled as he thought how Gwen would have zinged him for his chauvinist thinking in assuming that because this worker was a woman, she must be a nurse and not a doctor. But his assumption was based more on observation than on any gender bias he might have. His practiced eye had come to realize that the nurses were the ones who did the actual care of Gwen -- the IVs, the medications, the explanations, the handholding, the connecting with Gwen and himself -- while the doctors here seemed to breeze in and out, stopping occasionally to discuss a new medication or give the results of the latest bloodwork, but rarely for very long.

He had felt lucky to even see Dr. Fields earlier. David was just arriving on the oncology floor to visit Gwen, and he'd managed to corner the good doctor just as he was heading for the elevator to leave. Dr. Avery Fields was the head of the team that was overseeing the actual bone marrow infusion here at Memorial Sloan-Kettering. He had come highly recommended by Drs. Hampton and Rose, Gwen's oncologist and gynecologist, respectively, who had been guiding her care from the moment that the dreaded diagnosis of breast cancer had first been handed down. He knew Drs. Hampton and Rose to be dedicated and caring doctors, who had gone far beyond competent professional care as far as Gwen was concerned. They had been there for them whenever they needed them, and that included weekends and holidays at times. He and Gwen had trusted their judgment when they had recommended Dr. Fields and this hospital for the bone marrow transplant. Dr. Fields seemed competent enough, but his manner was brusque compared to Drs. Hampton and Rose, and he always seemed rushed, making him appear impatient each time David had spoken with him.

This afternoon's encounter was no exception, but he had finally answered many of David's questions, especially about the timeline of the entire procedure. Dr. Fields had explained that the destruction of Gwen's own marrow with the use of high dose chemotherapy had begun several days before, which is what necessitated the complete isolation procedures for her. They were effectively destroying her immune system, leaving her particularly vulnerable to any pathogen that might cross her path -- no matter how innocuous that pathogen might normally be. Her cell count was already very low now, but it would still take a few more days before they could do the actual infusion. Then, once the actual infusion was done, she could be discharged in two to four weeks after that, barring any complications.

Barring any complications…those words had clung ominously to David's brain long after Dr. Fields had left him, and they continued to haunt him now. Barring any complications…No! He had to believe that there would be no complications now! He and Gwen had come too far, and they had both sacrificed too much, to even allow the thought of possible complications to mar any of this. He had to maintain positive thoughts about this for Gwen! He had to, even though it had been a long time since he had been able to really keep any positive thoughts in his head. They seemed to have been shunted aside weeks ago by the persistent feelings of shame and remorse that were his constant companions now.

He glanced up on the clock on the wall and saw that it was 9:45 p.m. He'd been here for seven hours now, and Gwen had been asleep for the past hour or so of that. He yawned and stretched as he waited for the nurse to change the IV bags and then infuse the lines with the contents of her many syringes.

"Mr. Sikes?" David jumped as he heard the nurse unexpectedly call his name.

"Yes? Is something wrong?" he asked as he swung around to face her, his eyes wide with fear at the thought that something had happened to Gwen in those few minutes that he'd taken his eyes off of her.

"I didn't mean to alarm you, Mr. Sikes," the nurse said, her eyes smiling kindly at him above the mask that hid the rest of her face, "but I was just going to suggest that you call it a night. Gwen is resting comfortably, and she would want you to go home and do the same." She saw his look of hesitation in his eyes, and continued, "I promise that we'll call if she needs you in any way. Right now you look like you could use a hot shower and a warm bed -- maybe even a stiff drink with a friend along the way."

"Yeah," David agreed, laughing slightly. "I am pretty tired. I think I will head out now. Everything you described sounds very inviting at this point," he said as he went out the door and down the hallway, heading for the locker room where his street clothes were stored. "And an old friend is waiting for me now for that drink," he added quietly, thinking about the new bottle of Jim Beam he'd picked up at a liquor store on his way to the hospital this afternoon. It was waiting in the car for him to take it home with him and tell his troubles to, just like a good friend should. Unfortunately, he thought sadly, the way things were going Jim Beam and Jack Daniels seemed to be the only friends he could trust to understand his troubles these days. He only prayed that Gwen would also understand one day, when the time was right.

Tom leaned back wearily on the sparse, metal cot in his isolation cell and sighed. He had been staring at these same four, dull gray, bare walls for what seemed like forever. He had paced the 8'x10' foot space -- with its lone cot, and its cold, metal toilet, and its battered sink -- endlessly since he had been brought here from the interrogation room a while ago. And he had stopped countless times to peer out the small, tempered glass window that was inset in the heavy metal door that separated him from the rest of the prison facility, in the hope of seeing another face. As a law enforcement agent, he was being kept in isolation, separate from the general population, for which he was grateful. Any law officer labeled dirty was fair game among most prison inmates, and he was thankful that no one would be using his body as a punching bag as a means of venting their frustration at the system and anyone who had ever worn a badge. He hated being alone, but he would have hated being brutalized by some crazed inmate even more.

All of his clothes and his belongings had been confiscated when they had arrested him -- including his watch -- so he had no idea what time it was now, but he knew it had to be late. It had been late afternoon when they had left Port Charles, and it had been hours since he'd been brought here to this federal facility in Queens. In the interim he'd been booked and frisked and questioned, but most of all he'd been shunned -- and that had been what stung the most. And the one who had ignored with him the most was his best friend and partner, John.

The trip from Brenda's cottage in Port Charles to this facility in New York City had taken a little over two hours, and in that time John had said less than a dozen words to him, and had barely even looked at him. In all the time Tom and John had known one another, they had never been at a loss for words with one another -- not even when they were first thrown together at Quantico, fresh out of college and polar opposites as far as personality was concerned.

John was handsome and had always been a real ladies man and a jock, having gotten a full ride to Ohio State on a football scholarship and even making the starting line-up of the Buckeye football team the last three of his four years at OSU. Tom, on the other hand, while attractive, had always been shy around women, and although athletic, he'd never done anything more than jogging and throwing the occasional Frisbee while in college. And his extracurricular activities at NYU generally consisted of part-time jobs, since he needed the extra cash just to make ends meet most months. But once they'd been paired at Quantico, their differences seemed to dissolve and they'd become fast friends and then partners. Over the years, they had covered each other's backs numerous times in both professional and personal scrapes. John had helped Tom through his rocky marriage and his even rockier divorce, and Tom had seen John through a myriad of bad breakups with countless, beautiful women. They had had their fair share of disagreements over the years, but they had always managed to get over those things because they trusted one another implicitly. But now Tom wondered if he'd lost John's trust and friendship forever because of these lies.

He had tried talking to John several times on the flight from Port Charles and then again once they'd arrived here, but John had refused to listen to him. It was as if John felt that Tom -- his friend and partner of nearly a decade -- no longer existed, and had been replaced by Tom -- the felon and mob collaborator. Tom had tried to tell John that he was being set up, but John had told him to save it for the judge and anyone else who might be interested, because he wasn't.

There had been an endless parade of agents since then, many of whom had known Tom for years and none of whom seemed in the least sympathetic to him or his situation. He had been branded a traitor, and now he was viewed as the enemy. In fact, he was seen as worse than the vermin that they normally arrested because he had been one of their own, and it appeared that he'd broken that inviolable trust and crossed the line to the dark side -- only he hadn't. But no one seemed to believe in his innocence. Well, that wasn't exactly true… There were those who believed he was innocent…

He thought back to the events of just a couple of hours before…As soon as he'd arrived here, he'd used his one phone call to call his sister Kate's husband, Andy Moherman, who was an attorney with offices in Brooklyn. Andy mainly handled civil cases and had very little criminal law experience, so he had promised Tom that he would use his professional resources to try to get the best criminal defense lawyer he knew. So when they had told him that his attorney had arrived, Tom had naturally assumed that Andy had come through for him. But it hadn't been Andy who had saved the day…

"Tom Langan, I presume. I'm Daniel Kennedy, from Kennedy, Marshall, and McBride, and I've been hired as your attorney." Tom had looked up from his seat at the table in the interrogation room to see a tall, distinguished, well-dressed gentleman, in his early fifties, with his right hand extended toward him.

Tom had stood and shook his hand and then had sat back down at the table, and Mr. Kennedy had settled across from him. Tom had recognized the name of Mr. Kennedy's prestigious Manhattan law firm immediately. They had recently handled a very high-profile murder case involving some socialite and her much younger lover. The socialite had been accused of murdering her lover in a fit of jealousy over his involvement with a fashion model. Tom had followed the case only peripherally from the TV and newspaper accounts, but to him it had seemed a pretty open-and-shut case, with the socialite appearing as guilty as sin in his book. But the top-flight lawyers at Kennedy, Marshall, and McBride had somehow convinced the jury that the socialite was an innocent victim herself -- of sloppy police work and tainted evidence -- and she was found not guilty. This firm was a bunch of heavy-hitters, and Daniel Kennedy was the founding partner and the heaviest hitter of the bunch. Tom had been very impressed with his brother-in-law's lofty connections to retain such an excellent attorney as this for his defense.

"I really appreciate this," Tom had said immediately. "I know your firm's reputation, and I'm very impressed that you've agreed to take my case. You must know Andy pretty well to be doing this for him. I mean, I'm not wealthy or anything, like your other clients."

Daniel Kennedy had furrowed his brow at him questioningly. "Who's Andy?"

"My brother-in-law, Andy Moherman. He's the attorney I contacted when I got here, and he promised he'd get me the best criminal defense lawyer he could find, and here you are now. I just assumed that he'd contacted you…" Tom had explained.

Daniel Kennedy had shook his head at that. "No, Mr. Langan, I've been hired on your behalf by Jasper Jacks. It seems that he and his fiancée, Brenda Barrett, whom you are accused of helping to kidnap, believe very firmly that you have been framed for this and everything else you've been charged with."

Tom had been both shocked and pleased by Mr. Kennedy's revelation. Brenda had promised she would be his lifeline, and she was sticking to that promise. He remembered the doubt that had clouded Jax's face, and he marveled that Brenda had been able to convince Jax to help prove his innocence. But he knew the depth of Jax's love for Brenda, and he doubted that Jax could deny her anything that she truly wanted -- even if it meant defending a man who had just declared his undying love for her in their own house. He had Jax and Brenda believing in his innocence and David Kennedy working to prove it. Now, they just needed to overcome the seemingly insurmountable evidence against him.

Kennedy had gone on to explain the so-called evidence that the bureau had on Tom that led to his arrest, and Tom had been stunned at how convincing it was. Someone had worked long and hard to make it appear that he had been on Leone's payroll for quite some time. There were hidden bank accounts in his name and phone records that made it appear that he and Leone had had extensive phone conversations, especially over the past few weeks. They had even documented his computer access to the files of the Jacks/Leone investigation when he was looking into Jax's background. They had made those innocent accesses appear that he had been using his position to keep Leone two steps ahead of the government at all times. The frame was so well crafted and so tight, that even he would have been convinced of his guilt had he been merely looking at the documentation of this case as it now stood. No wonder no one within the bureau believed his protestations of innocence.

But he did have renewed hope since Mr. Kennedy's visit. Brenda believed in him, and she had convinced Jax as well. Now he needed to work on convincing John as well…

To that end he had asked one of the guards to send word to John that he wanted to talk to him. That had been a good thirty minutes ago, and Tom was beginning to wonder if John would simply ignore this request as he had previously ignored him since his arrest, but then the door to his cell opened and John stepped in.

"What do you want?" John asked dispassionately, as the heavy door slammed shut behind him, causing an echo to swallow the room. Tom could faintly hear some faceless guard lock the door securely from the other side, then walk quickly away. John must be planning to finally listen to me and wanted some privacy, Tom thought, as he assumed that was the reason for the guard's hasty retreat from the area.

"John, I'm glad you came!" Tom smiled as he jumped up from the cot to greet his friend.

But John remained stoic and distant, unmoved by Tom's enthusiasm at seeing him, and Tom's smile slowly faded.

Okay, he still doesn't believe I'm innocent, but at least he's here, and that must mean he's willing to listen, Tom thought, as he took a deep breath and took a hesitant step toward John. "John, I saw what they have against me, and I can really understand why you and the rest of the guys think I'm dirty from all that garbage they have on me, but you… you know me. You KNOW I'd never do this," Tom tried to reason with John, but John still seemed unaffected by Tom's words, and John's face remained a blank mask of unreadable emotions, although his breathing quickened a bit.

Tom noticed the subtle change in John's breathing immediately. Good, he thought, at least something I'm saying is getting through to him, and he isn't ignoring me any longer. He took another hesitant step toward his friend, so that now less than a foot of space remained between them. "John, we've been together a long time, and you know me, old buddy…"

He reached out to put his hand on John's shoulder, but that was when Tom realized, too late, that he had completely misread his friend's body language. John's left forearm shot out in front of him and caught Tom squarely across the throat, and John shoved him full-force into the wall behind them.

"You bastard!" John screamed, his face distorted with a fury that Tom had never seen before. "You nearly killed me a couple of nights ago when you accused me of being in on Brenda's kidnapping, when it was you all along! You attacked me to throw suspicion off yourself!" He slammed Tom's head hard against the wall and then jerked him back again. Tom tried to fight him off, but John kept his arm pressed against Tom's trachea and continued pummeling him against the wall. John's pent-up rage had his adrenaline pumped beyond belief, and Tom was soon as helpless as a rag doll, fighting to even breathe, let alone defending himself against John's relentless blows. "How long have you been working for that scum Leone?! How many men have you compromised -- or killed -- with your leaks to him?! …Answer me, dammit! …Answer me!" John screamed as he continued to slam Tom against the dull gray walls that now were splattered with contrasting trails of bright red, finally releasing him from his frenzied hold. But Tom couldn't answer, as his limp, battered body slumped lifelessly to the cold cement floor…