Ethan walked away from the edge of the ferry, his eyes cold and sad. The water was splashing up from the wake of the ferry, but none of the droplets made it inside the carport. It took the ferrymen a few moments to notice him, and when one of them finally looked away from the little distractions Ethan had provided, his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Sir," the ferryman said, trapped somewhere between fear and exasperation. "You can't be down here while the ferry is in motion."

"Sorry," Ethan replied vaguely, his eyes unfocused. His attention was back at the dock, at the agent standing on the edge of the platform, of the words that he should not have been able to hear. Maybe it was that those words had been haunting his thoughts since that night, that he wondered and fretted and cursed himself for caring, and cursed himself for not caring. "I'm looking for Kevin. He's a friend of mine, and got me my ticket."

When he heard Kevin's name, the ferryman accosting Ethan quickly backed off. In fact, he even offered Ethan a polite smile, and nodded. "Let me get you off the floor, and then I'll go track him down."

Ethan allowed himself to be escorted towards the stairs, hands running along the cold railing. The inside of the ferry was comfortably warm, but Ethan still felt shivers running down his back. He curled up in a corner, biting his lip before pressing his head firmly back into the wall. He wasn't really looking at the ceiling, and he wasn't bothering to look at the numbers either. All he was thinking about was the wind-messed copper hair of the FBI agent, of the light as it caught the tear that slipped out of her eye. And her lips shaping into the words he did not want to remember.

He didn't notice Kevin until the man sat down right next to him. "I wasn't expecting to see you!" Ethan looked over, and his eyes were so empty that Kevin's smile quickly slipped away from his lips. "What's wrong, mate?" the man asked, stretching out a hand and placing it heavily on Ethan's shoulder.

It took him a moment to find his tongue, and when he did it still felt like it was made of lead. "I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Josie. Will you tell her for me?"

Kevin was silent for a moment, but seemed to think better of trying to pry any more out of Ethan. His eyes were already moist, and any more pushing might just push him over the edge. Kevin sat quietly with him for a few moments, before getting back up and heading to work before someone could come and chase him off. However, before he left, he did pause, turning his eyes back onto Ethan's folded form. "You'll be fine, man. I'm sure of it." Ethan was barely able to reply with a small smile, but his eyes were a little softer. Kevin smiled as well, before turning away and heading back down the stairs to the carport.

He tried not to think as he sat there, but the thoughts kept intruding back into his mind. He had managed to push away thoughts of Victor for a month, but that woman's arrival had pushed them all back into the forefront of his mind. And now there was no avoiding the guilt. The guilt that eventually began to transform into indignation.

He didn't move as the ferry pulled into the small island town of Coupville, ignoring the passengers who cast strange looks at his huddled form. It was so much easier to shift the blame to someone else. He was not a killer. He hadn't been the one to pull the trigger. The mob would have gotten him eventually. And the easiest justification; he never would have had to do any of it if that woman had just ignored him, just left him be to escape later, when he was away from scrutiny. She had forced his hand in the same way she had forced him to run. He had set up the situation so that he could escape. Victor's own choices had gotten him killed.

He settled down slowly, as the ferry passed slowly through the water of the bay. His breathing slowly settled out, and his justifications slowly slipped away from him, leaving him naked. Perhaps he had killed Victor because there was no empathy in him anymore. Maybe he believed he was better than the rest of humanity. There was no doubt that his justifications were all true. Victor had made his own choices. He probably would have lived a nice, long, healthy life if he hadn't signed up to work for the mob. And maybe if he hadn't embezzled money to fuel his gambling habit he would have never had to leave the mob. But he made his choices, just like Ethan, and there was no changing them now. There was no going back.

The numbers slowly began to shift, and Ethan looked at them lazily. The tears that had threatened since he had boarded the ferry finally spilled over, but only two managed to roll down his cheeks before his emotion was bled out. He was left empty, empty and tired. He didn't care anymore what that lady thought of him. It didn't matter if she sent the entire FBI after him. He would always get away. He was done trying to hide, trying to play it safe. Let her throw at him what she would. He would anticipate it all, and he would be ready.

The ferry docked into the Seattle port, and he could see the men moving in his minds eye, throwing out the ropes and slowly pulling the ship into the web. He stood, dusting himself off. And he didn't look behind him as he walked down to the off-ramp, into the waiting arms of the Seattle Police Department. He greeted them with a smile, and presented his hands.

Let her chase him. He would be ready. And there was no way she would ever be able to catch him for good.