Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of "Lie to me" and I make no money as result of writing and posting this story.
Ben was many things: calm, collected, a friendly face in the crowd, sometimes aggressive and maybe too confident for his own good, but now as he stood on the rooftop of a deserted building in downtown DC, his gun poised on the target, FBI Agent Ben Reynolds was none of those things. He was terrified, one step away from craping his pants terrified and nearly frozen in fear. There wasn't a calm, collected, confident bone in his body anymore and still somehow — only God and probably Dr. Cal Lightman knew how — everything from his perfectly steady gun holding arm to his impossible relaxed face betrayed nothing. His heart rate didn't rise, his voice didn't slurred, his palms didn't sweat, his muscles didn't clench and his tone didn't change as he spoke, calmly identifying himself as "FBI —" and telling the target to "Freeze!", yet to his own mind those words didn't even registered.
Yes, he knew he had uttered them. He had feel his lips moving, had felt the air leaving his lungs and forming the sounds, had even seen their reaction of the target's face — Lightman would have been proud of him spotting the slight movement of muscles and the barely there frown — yet beyond that and beyond the fear cursing through his body like a fucking virus poised to hurt, destroy and kill, Ben's brain registered nothing at all. And still if you were to ask him, even a minute later, how and why did he took that shoot, Reynolds wouldn't have been able to even imagine the answer, let alone know it. Because at that moment, at that precise second in time FBI Agent Ben Reynolds didn't know, didn't think, didn't even rationalized about all that was going on.
He just did.
…pulled the trigger—
…heard the loud, almost deafening bang—
…shoot the target—
…saw and felt his blood spluttering all over his face—
…watched him go down and know, as the sounds of distant bombs and despair started all around him, that the shoot and his call came a millisecond too late.
A.U.S.A. Zoe Landau never heard the explosion or the despair. She didn't even hear the sound of shrapnel going through brick, metal or flesh or that of death. She didn't hear anything, because as the world stopped around her, her ears, brain — her entire being — could only hear one thing and one thing only: her daughter's cry of "Mummmm—"
…and then, there was no world anymore and no sound at all.
It was simply silence, peace and the unquestionable truth that she was dead, that Emily wasn't and that nothing else mattered.