[Immunity] David Kay - Ch.6: TheWrongManAtTheWrongTime

Instructions

Deacon stayed by Annie's bedside long after the day shift switched to night. The fluorescent lights buzzed above, the ventilator let out its mechanical sighs, and Annie's hand felt warm but didn't respond in any way under his grip. Time slipped by until a shadow showed up in the doorway. Not Hondo. Not Luca. Not Tan. Not even the doctor. But him. Agent Devereaux. Deacon caught his reflection first in the glass—tall, sharp suit, arms crossed like he expected everyone to just fall in line because he was there. His face mixed concern with urgency, but there was a glint in his eyes that didn't fit this scene. Ambition. Calculating. Cold. Exactly what Deacon didn't need right now. He tensed up, squared his shoulders, but didn't turn. "Now isn't the time." "That's up for debate," Devereaux replied, stepping fully into the room. His boots clicked against the tile like some kind of countdown. Deacon let out a slow breath. "I said I'm not doing this right now." "I'm not here to push you," He said. Deacon finally turned to him, and for a moment, Deveraux hesitated. Deacon's eyes seemed hollow—not empty, but definitely shaped by pain. The kind of pain that made people a little dangerous. Clearing his throat, he said, "Sergeant Kay... I know this is tough. I know your family means everything to you." "No," Deacon cut in, his voice low and sharp. "You have no clue." Devereaux paused. "I get that this is emotional—" "You don't get to use the word 'emotional' with me," Deacon snapped, standing up slowly. "You can't stroll into this room with your clipboard and badge and act like you understand anything that's going on here." Devereaux bristled. "I'm just trying to keep the case from falling apart." Deacon stared at him, trying to figure out if he was for real. "My wife almost died. My kids were nearly killed. My home was destroyed. The case could fall apart for all I care." "You don't mean that." Deacon took a step closer. "Try me." Deveraux took a steady breath. "Murido is still willing to talk. But time's running out on that immunity window. If your team could cooperate—" Hondo slipped in behind him so quietly that Devereaux didn't notice until he gently touched his elbow. "Agent," He said, his voice calm but with an edge, "this isn't the place." Devereaux looked up defiantly. "With all due respect, Sergeant Harrelson, it absolutely is the place. The attack on his home is exactly the leverage we need to justify fast-tracking—" Deacon tightened his jaw so hard that Hondo almost stepped in between them. "Leverage?" Deacon repeated quietly. Devereaux blinked. "I didn't mean—" "You just said," Deacon murmured, "that what happened to my family is leverage." The room felt like it was closing in on them. Even the machines seemed to be eavesdropping. "That's not what I meant," Devereaux insisted stiffly. "I'm just speaking from a legal perspective." "You should quit talking," Hondo warned him under his breath. But Devereaux kept going. "Sergeant Kay, the system works when we use every tool we have—" Deacon took another step toward him.Hondo's hand shot up instantly, blocking his way—but Deacon's gaze stayed locked on Devereaux, his anger palpable. "In my world," Deacon said softly but dangerously, "family isn't a tool. They're not leverage. They're family." Devereaux swallowed hard. "I'm trying to prevent more bloodshed." "And I'm trying not to rip your badge off your chest," Deacon growled. Hondo gently pushed against Deacon's shoulder. "Deac. Not here. Not now." Devereaux straightened up, trying to regain some control. "Sergeant, I need you to cooperate." "You lost that chance when you walked in here." Deacon replied, glowering at Deveraux. "Then I'll talk to your commander," he shot back, although his voice wavered slightly. Hondo didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. "Agent Devereaux," he said firmly, "I'm giving you five seconds to leave this room on your own." Devereaux froze. "Otherwise," Hondo continued, eyes steady, "I'll escort you out myself. And I don't care who you work for." Devereaux's jaw tightened. He glanced between them—the broken husband barely controlling his anger and the sergeant exuding a calm that felt like a warning.He took a step back."I'll wait in the hallway for you to discuss the case professionally," he said stiffly. "No," Hondo corrected. "You'll wait outside the ICU wing. Or you can wait in your car. Your call." Devereaux opened his mouth—then closed it.Without another word, he turned and left.The moment he was out of sight, Deacon let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. His hands shook—too much adrenaline, too much anger, too little sleep.Hondo stepped up beside him, speaking quietly. "You okay?" "No," Deacon whispered, his gaze returning to Annie. "But I will be." And Hondo understood the unspoken part. I will be... once I make Murido pay.