Daniel could see the tension written in every line of Ethan's body, from the way he clenched his jaw to the way his fingers whitened with the strength of the grip he held on his glass. Without thinking, Daniel reached out, brushing Ethan's fingers with his own.

"You're going to break your glass," he said gently. Ethan blinked down at where their fingers touched before slowly relinquishing his grip.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "I… I worked hard to get out," he said slowly. "You have no idea how hard it was to get out. Do you know how many people won't hire people with a record? There's a reason the recidivism rate is so high -- people can't find a fucking job to pay the bills, so they turn back to crime so they won't starve. So, yeah, my job is shitty, but it's my job, and now I'll have to find another one after, and-" Ethan was rambling, his eyes unfocused as his hands tapped nervously on the tabletop. Daniel pressed his hand over Ethan's carefully.

"Ethan," he said slowly. Ethan paused and took a deep breath. "Why don't we go somewhere more private to talk about this? My place, maybe?" Ethan shook his head emphatically.

"So anyone they have watching me can look up the address to see who owns it and realize I went home with a cop?" He laughed nervously. "No thanks. But we can go to my place. You don't look like a cop right now anyway, so no one will think anything of it." Daniel nodded.

"Alright, lead the way."

The men walked to Ethan's apartment, silent the entire way, the air between them thick with an odd tension. Daniel could practically feel Ethan fighting the urge to look around them for anyone who might be watching as they walked.

Ethan's apartment was a third-story walkup in a building that had to be at least forty years old. The bricks were crumbling at the corners and many of the windows had paper plastered to the inside, yellowed and peeling from the sun. Lights shone from behind the papers, with shadows moving across some of them.

Ethan led him inside the lobby, where the air was thick with the scents of too many people cooking in too small of a building, then they headed up the two creaking flights of stairs, covered with a thin, stained carpet. Daniel had seen worse in his years as a beat cop, but he still had to fight the urge to cringe away.

When Ethan opened his door, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over a chair before turning to Daniel.

"Sorry, probably not what you're used to," he said with a embarrassed shrug. "Turns out working a real job doesn't pay as well as crime," he added with a slightly bitter smile.

He wasn't wrong. The apartment was basically one room, with one door that Daniel assumed led to a bathroom over to the left. Directly to his right was a kitchenette, consisting of a two-top stove and a small sink, and to the left was a bed. A couch dominated the center space, pointed at an old box-style television.

What did surprise him about the space was how clean it was. While there wasn't a lot of room, there was also no clutter at all. The old carpets were immaculately vacuumed, and the counters and stove top in the kitchen were spotless. Even the bed over to the side was made, corners carefully folded and tucked in.

"I'm just impressed by how clean it is," Daniel admitted. "My place is a wreck." Ethan snorted as he shut the door behind Daniel.

"I remember having to wade through take-out boxes to get in the door of your dorm room, so somehow I'm not surprised," he said wryly. "Want anything to drink? I have beer and our local artisanal Gannon City tap water," he said, gesturing to the kitchen sink with a flourish. Daniel waved a hand dismissively.

"No, I'm good." Ethan was moving restlessly around the small space, so Daniel went to sit on the couch, watching his lean form move gracefully around the room, cleaning invisible messes on counters and floors until Daniel spoke up. "Ethan, sit down. We came here to talk, remember?" Ethan huffed out a breath and, after only a moment's hesitation, joined him on the couch.

"You have to understand," Ethan said slowly. "I've been trying to leave all this behind for over a year. They don't make it easy to leave; there were offers and threats and incentives to stay given. I had to fight tooth and nail for my job and this shitty apartment, and now I might risk losing it all." Daniel stared across at Ethan, who was rubbing his thighs nervously as he spoke.

"So why do it?" Daniel asked. "Just because they killed someone? It's hardly the first time they've done that." Ethan snorted.

"It's the first time they've done it when I had any knowledge of what might be going on behind it. But, whatever I might know about it aside, the murder is only a small part of it," he admitted. "I want to leave it all behind, forever," he said firmly, with a conviction that surprised Daniel. "And they've made it plain that they'll always be there, always following me, always knowing where I am. Always trying to win -- or threaten -- me back." He met Daniel's eyes. "They've threatened Alex in the past too, you know," he said. Daniel's eyes widened.

"Your brother? Why would they do that?" Ethan shrugged.

"Leverage. It's how they got me back the first time I tried to leave. I cut off communication with him when he moved last year, so they weren't able to find him." Daniel stared, aghast.

"You and Alex don't talk anymore? But you two were so close!" Ethan's eyes fell closed, pain fresh on his face, and Daniel instantly regretted pushing the matter.

"I know. It hurts like a bitch, not knowing if he's okay, not know what he's up to. But it was the only way to keep him safe, or at least safe from these particular people. Gannon seems like a perfectly normal, safe city, but the crime rings here run a lot deeper than I think even you know," Ethan explained. Daniel frowned.

"If the crime ring you know about is such a big deal, how do we never hear about it? Sure, some of the crimes might be disguised as random happenstance, or they might be running out of town jobs, but usually rings like this get by on their reputation, and for that they have to have a name. How have I never heard of a… well, a gang name?"

"Because they're counting on people thinking that exact thing," Ethan said. "Jack always said that getting too well-known by name was always the downfall of the big organizations. He wanted to keep it organized, but keep it small and nameless so it would be harder to talk about. Any time any of us needed to talk about it for any reason, we were supposed to just use generic phrases like 'at work'. And it seems to have worked, if you've never even heard an inkling of their presence." Daniel blew out a breath.

"That's entirely too clever," he admitted. "This is the sort of thing we're going to need in testimony from you."

"And I'll do so, happily, after they're taken down completely," Ethan promised. "Otherwise, I'm a dead man just for talking to you. They don't like having me out in the world, knowing how they work. They think it's dangerous for them. And I guess, going by tonight, they're right," he added. "The only way I can move on is if they're taken down for good," he said. Daniel let out a low whistle.

"No pressure," he muttered under his breath. Ethan's eyes snapped up to his.

"On the contrary," Ethan said, eyebrows raised, "all the pressure. If I go back in, I'm trusting you to do this, to help me bring them down so I'm not doing it all for nothing." Daniel felt a tickle of suspicion start to crawl up his spine.

"Ethan," he said slowly, "If we do this, it has to be within the law," he said firmly. "You're not a vigilante. You'd be working undercover on behalf of the Gannon City PD." Ethan snorted.

"You and your rules. Yeah, whatever. But I have rules, too -- first and foremost being that this can't be on the books. If they have an informant in the department, they can't know what I'm doing." Ethan's gaze was intense, and Daniel found himself caught in it for a long moment before he jerked his eyes away and replied.

"It can't be completely off the books," Daniel replied, "or else we'll have no proof you were working with us when it all comes down. Unless you want to be charged for being complicit…" Daniel shook his head. "No, it has to be official. My word alone won't be enough." Ethan chewed on his lower lip.

"If it's on the books, whoever is the leak will know. There has to be another way."

"At least one other person has to know," Daniel said after a pause. "I could tell my partner, Garrett Collins. I trust him absolutely. I know he's not the leak." Ethan looked worried.

"Are you positive?" he asked, his hands clenched tight into fists. "My life is literally in your hands here, Daniel." Daniel was struck by the immensity of that statement, and how true it was. As a police officer, having such a huge responsibility wasn't entirely foreign to him, but having it stated so plainly by someone who once meant so much to him was sobering.

"I'm positive," Daniel said, infusing his voice with all of the surety he felt. "Garrett's a good man. I'd trust him with my life."

"If you're sure he can be trusted… alright."

"How will you get back in?" Daniel asked.

"I'll call Steve tomorrow," Ethan said, distaste showing visibly on his face. "He'll be willing to meet with me." Something about the way Ethan couldn't control his facial expression when talking about the man set Daniel's teeth on edge, and he couldn't help but wonder about what history might be between the two.

"You should wear a wire, so I can know if you need backup." Ethan shook his head immediately.

"No way. I'll be searched before anything of importance is discussed. It'll take a little while for them to trust me again. A wire would be a death sentence." Daniel sighed in frustration.

"Fine. But you'll need to check in regularly. If you really think they won't recognize me, we can meet up here for check-ins."

"I'll be fine," Ethan said dismissively. Daniel looked up at Ethan, who was lost in thought. It was weird; yesterday he'd been so shocked to see Ethan again, but today it was almost like some of the emotions from ten years ago were starting to resurface. Of course, he felt some concern about the safety of any of his informants, but not to the degree of what he was feeling for Ethan. The thought of Ethan going into danger was actually sending his stomach into knots.

"We- I am going to keep you safe," Daniel said firmly. "You'll have to agree to stay in communication if we're going to do this." Ethan looked up, and seemed surprised by the vehemence in Daniel's tone.

"Careful, Danny," he said with a wry smile. "Or I might start to think you give a shit about what happens to me." Daniel felt a flush rising up his neck, his face heating with unwarranted embarrassment.

"It's my job to keep people safe," he said shortly. "If I can't keep someone who came to me for help safe, then what good am I?" Daniel wasn't sure what he'd said wrong, but something in Ethan's face shuttered as he spoke.

"Keep people safe, right," Ethan snorted. "That's why you all focus on taking down those super-scary kids smoking weed instead of going after the harder-to-get guys running the hard drugs through town. Those 19 year old kids sure feel safe after their apartments are raided, let me tell you." Daniel scowled. This was the problem with Ethan; he refused to respect the law.

"Those kids are breaking the law," Daniel said. "And they're doing it knowingly. We don't get to pick and choose which laws we enforce."

"Sure, sure" Ethan said, waving him off. "Listen, I'm going to turn in for the night. I have a big day tomorrow of lying to men who've threatened to kill me," he said with false cheer. Ethan stood and led the way to the door, obviously ready to show Daniel out. When Ethan reached for the door handle, Daniel reacted on instinct and reached out to catch his arm.

"I'm being serious about keeping in touch," Daniel said. "I want to hear from you tomorrow, alright? Put my number in your phone. Under a pseudonym if you need to, but add it and let me know what you're doing." He squeezed lightly, Ethan's arm warm under his touch. "Please?" Ethan looked down at where Daniel's hand rested on his arm before looking up to meet his eyes, something cautiously hopeful there.