Work Text:
He wasn't sure what woke him.
Garcia Flynn felt the mattress move as sleep abandoned him. Opening his eyes groggily, he watched as Lorena quietly pushed herself out of bed and moved through the moonlight towards the door. “Is everything OK?” he asked, voice rough with sleep.
“I heard Iris cough, I’m just going to check on her. Go back to sleep,” she whispered. She glided ghost-like across their bedroom and silently let herself out of their room.
Settling back into his pillow, Garcia pulled the blanket from where it was sliding down to the floor. He only had time for one big yawn before he heard a grunt from the bedroom next-door, followed by Lorena yelling in a way he’d never heard before, “GO!!” Instantly alert, he pushed the hopeless blanket to the ground, grabbed his gun from its hiding place, and rushed out the door of his bedroom, nearly colliding with Iris as he did so.
Instincts kicking in, he whispered as loudly as he dared, “Into the nook, go!” Making sure Iris had followed instructions, he padded lightly the few feet between his and Lorena’s bedroom and Iris’s. “No,” he whispered desperately. No no no no no…
His years of experience as a soldier kicked in and stopped him from rushing recklessly into Iris’s bedroom. Keeping his body protected by the door frame, he slowly peered around it…
… and saw his mighty warrior wife pull a knife from the chest of an armed intruder, giving a fierce yell as she did so, then spin to ram it into the eye socket of a second intruder, who slumped to the floor in a heap. Heart pounding, he leaped into the room just as the third man trying to invade their home made his way through Iris’s bedroom window. He made it no further, a bullet from Garcia’s gun taking him right in the forehead.
“Go check on Iris,” he yelled to Lorena, voice frantic with fear. She nodded, running lightly from the room. Garcia heard a shout from outside, and jumping over the body of Lorena’s second victim (that’s not a knife, it’s a letter opener!), looked cautiously out the window.
A bullet ricocheted off the house mere inches from his head, and he cursed, ducking beneath the window sill. When he peeked over it seconds later, he saw three additional thwarted intruders running towards an idling black van in the cul de sac outside, which took off as soon as the men jumped into it. After verifying no others were trying to climb up to the window, Garcia did a thorough sweep indoors and out, but found no one else. They were safe.
For now.
This could only have been Rittenhouse. Clearly the information he had stumbled upon at work was way more sensitive than he ever could have imagined. The ringing in his ears, which had been torturing him since he fired his gun indoors, grew louder as he realized that their safety was likely short-lived.
Running back inside, he sprinted to his bedroom and into the walk-in closet. Fearful, he moved to Lorena’s vanity, makeup bottles and tubes strewn across it, and crawled underneath. Pushing against a knot in the wall, Garcia held his breath as a door popped open, and let it out only when he saw the terrified faces of his wife and daughter.
“Thank G-d,” he cried, pulling them out of the safety nook and into his arms, unable to contain a sob as he held close the two people on earth most dear to him. “Are you okay?” He looked them over quickly and didn’t see any injuries, but he had to be certain.
Lorena nodded, as did Iris, unable to speak through her tears. “What was that, Garcia?” Lorena asked, voice shaking despite her courage.
“I’ll explain soon,” he said, pressing a kiss into her hair. “We’re not safe here any longer,” he whispered into her ear. “Pack up a change of clothing and any valuables you want to take with you. I already have a bag packed so I’ll gather a few things for Iris.”
Lorena nodded, and scooted out of the nook into their bedroom, resting her hand lightly on his cheek as she moved past him. Garcia held out his arms to Iris, who followed her mother. He looked sadly around the bedroom, a room he had shared with his wife for ten years before the violence of this evening marred the lovely memories he'd made there. He suspected he’d never step foot into it again.
Holding out his hand to Iris, Garcia forced cheerfulness into his voice. “That was really scary, sweetie. We’re going on a little trip until we make sure it’s safe for us to return. Are you OK with that?”
Iris nodded, eyes still full of tears, but now looking resolute. Garcia’s heart nearly broke.
Throwing a change of clothing, a few stuffed animals, and her baby book into her backpack, Garcia took Iris’s hand and went to check on Lorena. Their three bags packed, the family made their way downstairs, and climbed into their car. Garcia drove the short distance to the nearest train station, then parked the car and called for a cab to the airport. Let Rittenhouse figure out if they had traveled by land or by air.
As they drove to the airport, Garcia’s mind was racing. Where could they go that would allow them some time to escape the ever present Rittenhouse? Pulling up the Kayak app on his phone, he searched for several destinations before finally settling on one he hoped would hide them from Rittenhouse for a good long time.
Looking through his wallet, he verified he had enough cash to buy three tickets to São Paolo at the airport.