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When Evie, Michelle, and Blue finally emerged from the bunker, they were enveloped by Sydney at night—foggy, silent, almost unreal. Rescue workers were rushing around, but Evie felt as if she were out of her body. The sound of a helicopter in the distance reminded her of everything she had left behind below—the darkness, the fear, the moments when she wasn’t sure if she would survive.
Shortly after her interrogation and medical examination, she refused a ride home. She didn’t want the hotel room NCIS had booked, nor JD’s offer to sleep over at his place. Just peace. Just her own little corner.
Her small apartment on the edge of Sydney smelled of the sea and humidity. The model plane JD had once given her still sat on the shelf, and from under it she took out an old picture from her AFP days—her and JD, in uniform, smiling. It was a life that seemed so far away.
As she sat by the window, a light rain began to fall outside. The phone rang—JD. She didn’t pick up. She wasn’t ready yet.
Instead, she opened the folder on her desk, the one they’d found in the bunker—documents, encrypted files, something that hadn’t been fully solved yet. Evie knew the nightmares weren’t over yet. If the bunker was hiding something, it was just the beginning.
Taking a deep breath, she opened her computer. A blue light glowed on the screen.
“Let’s go,” she whispered.
The NCIS Sydney station was bustling with the usual hustle and bustle—typing, phones, reports. DeShawn was searching for a file when his hand touched Evie’s computer on her desk. The computer turned on, and the voicemail Evie had transferred from her phone to her computer for no apparent reason appeared on the screen. His hand clicked the mouse twice - the file opened and suddenly - her voice.
“For the record, I think your taste in topping sucks…”
At first he smiled. Typical Evie - sarcastic even on the verge of death. But as the voice became quieter, more broken, the smile disappeared.
“…just so I don’t die down here with you still wondering…”
“…I only took the damn thing to… get us back to where we were before you…”
The silence in the room became heavier than air. DeShawn leaned back, guilt pressing against his chest. He didn’t know she had left him a message. He didn’t know that in the midst of the chaos she had been thinking about them. About what had happened a few days earlier. All of it with Kane.
“…Before things got messed up between us. Which was mostly your fault, by the way.”
He shrugged, and smiled bitterly. Yes, that was true.
“…But I guess I just missed. Will miss.”
The sound cut off. The file ended. And with it — something DeShawn thought he had buried.
He sat there for a while longer, until he felt JD’s gaze behind him.
“Everything okay?”
DeShawn shook his head.
“No. But… now I know she’s sorry for what happened between us.”
JD stepped closer, eyeing the screen. “Are you going to tell her you found it?”
DeShawn was silent for a moment. Then he said quietly, “I don’t know. I’m not sure. Maybe.”
At that moment, Evie stood outside, her hands in her pockets, looking out across the bay. The wind brought her the smell of the sea—and maybe, if the silence was deep enough, she would hear her own voice, still trapped somewhere on the disk between the words she never wanted him to hear.
Evie sat on the balcony of her small apartment, her legs crossed, looking out at the twinkling lights of Sydney. Her mind still wandered to the bunker, to Michelle and Blue, to all the fears they’d endured. Then: suddenly she remembered—DeShawn.
Her phone rang. It wasn’t a call, it was a message: “I’m listening.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She didn’t know whether to laugh or blush in panic. She placed her hand on the cold balcony railing, trying to gather her courage.
When she arrived at the NCIS Sydney office the next day, DeShawn was standing by the window, his arms folded, his gaze heavy but not angry. Evie stepped closer, trying to smile, but feeling vulnerable, as if she were standing in the middle of broken glass.
“Hey,” she began quietly.
DeShawn raised his eyebrows. “Hey.”
A brief moment of silence. Then he dropped his hands. “I heard your message.”
Evie muttered, “Oops…” and blushed.
“Oops?” DeShawn repeated, laughing slightly, his gaze still uncertain. “Evie, why did you leave that… message?”
Evie looked out the window, breathing in the sea air. “Because I had to. Because I… had to know that you would know that… that I cared. And that I was worried about what would happen between us if… if…”
DeShawn smiled, slightly tired, but kindly. “…If I died downstairs?”
Evie nodded. “Yeah. And… maybe I was afraid you would never hear this. And that you would never know that I messed up. This whole thing with Kane… threw me into a rut and I didn’t…” Evie didn’t know how to finish, she looked away.
DeShawn stepped closer, put his hand on her shoulder: “Evie… I listened anyway. And yes, I know you messed up. Maybe we both messed up. But we’re good now.”
Evie dropped her hands and smiled, the first spark of relief after all these nights of fear and chaos. “Thanks D.”
DeShawn smiled, “You still have to tell me about Kiss, Marry Kill. I’ll be weighing you down for a long time.”
Evie tried to hold back her laughter, “Never, partner. Never.” She winked at him and smiled.