/This fic is a hot mess, lol. Set at the very end of s3. Wow I seriously miss writing Lucien. I also would like to apologize to Jean for giving her such a pitifully small part in this fic, but I wanted to spend more time with Charlie and Lawson. Leaving incomplete for now, in case I write anything else about Charlie and the grieving process but no one hold their breath. Anyway, leave a comment if you liked it, feel free to contact me with any comments question or concerns. Warnings for a fair amount of blood and major character death.

"How much time do we have left?"

"Three hours." Charlie sighed and rubbed his temples. Jean put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"You did your best Charlie." She said, softly. Charlie sighed deeply, and rubbed his face.

"It doesn't matter. They're still going to hang him if I can't find anything."

"Charlie..." Mattie said, softly, "Let's...Talk this though. Like we did with the Doctor." Charlie nods, finally.

"Well." He sighed, trying to think past his headache and come up with something to say. Anything.

"Who would want to kill Lucien Blake?" Jean asks.

"I think a better question might be who didn't have motive to kill Lucien Blake." Charlie said, after a moment. "Prime suspect Matthew Lawson, seen arguing with the deceased, had access to the murder weapon...Smokes the brand of cigarettes found at the crime scene..."

"But you don't think he did it."

"No. And neither does Munro. But Melbourne does, pushed to have him convicted...Pushed for the death sentence..." He sighed, softly.

"But?"
"But those weren't his cigarettes. Dr Harvey confirmed that the genetic secretor markers don't match him. He reported the murder weapon missing months ago, he was always arguing with Blake over something. He has no motive, and he had what I thought was an airtight alibi."

"Which was?"

"He was drinking. He was pretty god damn buzzed when he met with me at the hospital."

Charlie was out of it. His hands were stained red with blood from his attempt to staunch the blood flow. The blood was tacky, having been on his hands for some time now. Munro has gone to speak with a nurse, who is calling Blake's next of kin, Mrs Beazley. Mattie was rostered on at the time, and has sat herself next to him. She doesn't say anything. She doesn't have to. There's blowback all over the left side of Charlie's face, in his hair and splattered on his shirt. Even Munro seems oddly sympathetic toward him.

"Do you have anyone I can call?" He asked, quietly. "Mrs Beazley probably won't be…." He stops. Charlie shakes his head, but after a moment, looks up.

"Can you call Lawson?" He asked, finally. "He should be at home." Munro nods, and walks quickly to the phone.

When Lawson arrives he smells like alcohol but Charlie finds it more comforting then annoying or upsetting. He pulls Charlie into a hug and insists he stays the night at the Blake house. Mrs Beazley cries, she cries and cries and Mattie does her best not to cry and oddly enough, Charlie can't feel anything at all.

"So? Why convict him?"
"Because Melbourne wants him gone. Now that there's no Blake..." Charlie sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose again.

"Okay. So who do you think did it?"
"I have no idea, Mrs Beazley."

"You really have nothing?"

"Well...They didn't shoot me, despite having ample time and opportunity. You saw me at the hospital, I was covered in blowback, right?"
"Yeah. I thought it was strange that you had so much blow back on you from a small ish wound." Mattie nodded.

"What does it mean?"

"I don't know." Charlie sighed.

"Anything else?"

"The cigarettes tested positive to traces of bex."

"So they had a headache?" Danny offered, stepping into the kitchen. Charlie gave him a pained smile.

"Yes. As far as we know." Danny'd been in town for the funeral, but had been asked to step in to fill for Lawson for a little while. He said yes, naturally.

"Bex." Charlie said, after a moment. "There was a bottle of bex on the tea table that evening. I have no idea who it belonged too."

"So?"

"The theory is that someone at the station had it in for Blake." Charlie nods.

"It has to be someone at the station. They're the only one who could have gotten their hands on Lawson's gun."

"Okay. That narrows it down." Danny offered.
"Maybe it's not Blake we should be looking at?" Jean offered, "Maybe they had it out for Lawson?"
"Okay. So. Who has it out for Lawson?"

"Tyneman?" Danny offered. Charlie smiled weakly.

"Maybe. But if it was him, he'd want you to know it was him. Anyway. He gets on Lawson's nerves more then Lawson gets on his.'

"Munro?" Mattie shakes her head.
"No. He's the one helping Charlie in his investigation. Anyway. If Munro wanted Blake dead he would have done it months ago. And he wasn't in town when the gun went missing."

"Davis, come here." Munro said, as he walked into his office, expecting Charlie to follow him. Lawson had been convicted that month despite Charlie's best attempts to convince anyone who would listen to him that it just wasn't possible for it to be Lawson. Lawson pleased not guilty, even Munro testified in his defense, but Melbourne had their way, and Lawson was sentenced to death. "I'm not any happier about this then you are. He's got his problems but Lawson is a good cop." Charlie folded his arms. "And I don't think he killed Blake. You know that."
"A little too late for that, don't you think?" Munro sighed and shook his head.

"Alright. I'll cut to the chase. Melbourne's not happy that I let you testify. So unhappy with me, in fact, that they've moved the execution date forward."
"No." Charlie said softly.

"Yes. To Sunday."

"They can't do that."
"They can and they have."

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked.

"Because I think you're smart."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Your Doctor would still be looking. Melbourne wants you back with them, but I've told them you're staying here for the time being. "

"Okay."
"Davis, I know you're as stubborn as a mule, with no respect for authority." Charlie shrugs slightly Munro's really not wrong." You'll be trying to prove him innocent when he has the nose around his neck I can feel . Forty eight hours. Find who did this, find me how and find me why. And I'll get the execution called off."

"How?"

"Leave it to me, Davis. Now go! Get that boy, Parks to help you." Munro said, showing him out of the office. Charlie looks at his watch, and breaks into a sprint towards the door.

"So you're sure that Lawson didn't have the gun?" Jean asked, looking between Charlie and Danny.

"Hobart, Danny and I turned his place, his desk and his car inside out"

"How did you get into his desk?"

"Munro gave us the spare key." Charlie offered.

"It was empty." Danny sighed. Charlie rubbed his temple again. Jean stood and collected the jar of Bex and a glass of water. Charlie put his face in his hands and tried to summon his inner doctor.

"Fancy seeing you here."

"Doc?"

"We don't have a lot of time, Charlie. You've zoned out again."

"So?"

"So, we need to find out who killed him."

"You?"

"I'm just a personification of your thoughts."

"So you could be anyone?"

"Yes."

"Why did I never do this before?"

"You've never needed to."

"How are we going to solve this, then?"

"Come with me." The 'thought' doctor leads him through to the crime scene, as if he was watching from outside of his body.

"Isn't this a sign of some kind of mental illness?"

"I told you I could find something."

"I thought you were ust a personification of my thoughts?"

"Shut up, Charlie." The thought says, but with no venom. "What do you see?"

"I see...Us, Blake falls...The bullet nicks a vein...That's why there was so much blood."

"Keep watching."

"He falls, I grab him, I try and stanch the blood flow. I don't realize he's already dead."

"Now listen, do you hear that?"

"Hear Wha- High heels."

"Very good, Charlie."

"So it was a woman."

"Yes. Well done."

...

"Charlie?" Jean asked, touching him gently on the shoulder. Charlie looked up at them, with wide eyes. "Mrs Beazley we've been going about this all wrong. I thought it was a man, it had to have been a man but it wasn't. It was a woman."

"A woman?"

"Her shoes clicked, when she ran away."

"Are you sure, Charlie?" He nods.
"Yes."

"So who do we have now?" Danny asked, pouring himself some water.

"I have no idea." He offered.

"Well...What women are at the station?" Mattie asked.

"Well...Sarah, but she's a terrible shot."

"Oh! Marie."

"She was out of town." Charlie reminded. "There's Barbara?"

"She hated the Doctor."

"Hobart used to call her Munro's Lapdog."
"We all know Hobart is a pig,Charlie." Mattie offered.

"Thing is, he wasn't wrong."

"Was it her?"

"I dont know." He sighed, looking at them. "I don't...I don't know."

"Did she ever take Bex?"

"Once or twice, why?"
"She has a bottle of it on her desk..." Charlie looked up, and then looked at Danny.

….

"Hobart."

"Davis here. Listen. I'm sending Danny over to the station. I have a suspect. I need you to go to Barbara's desk and get the cigarette but out of her ash tray. Put it in an evidence bag. Then get her, Ned, Munro, and anyone else around, bring them as well."

"Alright…Who's the suspect?"

" Also...Get me something off of her desk with her finger prints on it. And something with yours while we're at it."
"Why?"

"I'll tell you when you get here. Go right to Lawson's cell...You know the one. I'm going to get Doctor Harvery...Oh! Get the evidence from the scene as well, if you can. If Munro asks why...Tell him Charlie told you too."

"And this'll save Lawson?"

"I hope so. We have two hours left, Hobart. Don't mess this up."

He hangs up the phone.

"Danny. Go to the station. Get the desk key from Munro, wait until everyone leaves, then go into the bottom drawer of her desk."

"What am I looking for?"

"A weapon. Blood stained clothes. Anything.'

"Okay."

"Mattie. I need you to go to the hospital and get me the Doctor's luminol."

"He had some?"
"Should have."

"What about you?" Jean asked.

"I need to get changed!" He said, jumping to his feet.

Any normal person would not call Charlie...Dressed. He was wearing his uniform, but only half way. His shirt was buttoned wrong, his hair was unbrushed and unstyled, He wasn't wearing any socks, and one of his shoes was bent down at the back. He was wearing his blazer, but it was only half buttoned, and the belt was missing. His tie was crooked and he just generally looked like a mess. Arriving at the prison on Danny's bike (While Jean and Mattie picked up Dr Harvey from the hospital) Charlie was sprinting to get up to the cell. They had one hour left. Lawson was sitting inside looking very bitter. He looked up when he noticed Charlie sprinting up the stairs.

"Jesus Charlie. You look like hell."

"Thanks. Just got back." He offered, leaning on the wall to catch his breath.

"You haven't got your belt."

"Doesn't matter."

"Or your hat."

"Shut up." Charlie said, standing up as Munro, Ned, Hobart and Barbara made their way up the stairs. Hobart passed him the cardboard box full of evidence.

"Here. I hope you know what you're doing." He said softly, as Lawson gave him a slight frown. Even if he knew Charlie was going to try something, although, he had no idea what.
"You and me both." Charlie said, with a soft sigh.

"Alright, Charlie." Munro said, "Tell me what happened, to the best of your knowledge.

"Well...Blake and I left the building, and we were just outside the door. And then I heard two gunshots. I felt one skid my cheek, but when I looked over at Blake...He just sort of...Crumpled."

"and that's all you can recall?" Charlie nodded.

"Didn't see the offender?"

"No."Charlie said, suddenly rubbing at both of his eyes furiously. Lawson passed him a hankerchief, Charlie sighed softly, and rubbed at his eyes.

"Alright." Munro nodded. "We'll be in touch." He said, "Inspector Lawson, take him home. He's not fit to be at work right now. " Lawson nodded, and helped Charlie to his feet.

"Good job." he said, under his breath, as the two of them walked out of the door. Charlie found his eyes drawn to a stain on the cement. Lawson led him on, and back to his squad car.
"He was right there." Charlie breathed, as Lawson held the door for him.

"I know." Lawson said, and went around to the drivers side.

Once they were all assembled inside the jail cell, (Too many for your usual sort of last minute visits, but one look from Munro shut the warden up) Lawson stood up and did his best to fix Charlie's uniform. "Just take the blazer off." Lawson said, giving up on making the garment even mildly presentable. He helped fix Charlie's tie while he fixed the buttons.
"Sorry. Sort of got dressed in a bit of a hurry." He said, Lawson just shook his head, before sitting back on the bed in the cell. Charlie set the evidence out on the table that Ned had set up for him. All eyes were on him as he stood and looked at the collection of things in front of him.

"Ladies and gents. I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here. It's because Matthew Lawson did not kill Lucien Blake. Not only, am I going to prove his innocence, but I'm going to tell you who did it. And they're in this room.' Everyone looked around at one another. Munro raised his eye brows. Jean dabbed at her eyes.

"Lawson, what cigarettes do you smoke?"

"Camel Unfiltered."

"How often do you smoke?"

"Not often."

"So never more then one at a time?"

"No."

"Do you carry them on you?"

"No."

"Looking though Lawson's belongings after he was arrested confirms this." He said, "Now you could take my word for it, or you can let the forensic evidence speak for itself." He said, looking at Dr Harvery.

"I tested the cigarettes from the crime scene for saliva."
"And you found some?" She nodded.

"And then Sergeant Davis requested I try and find something identifiable from them. They came up as testing positive for Bex."

"And?"

"I took a profile of the genetic secreter markers."

"Did those markers match a sample I took from Matthew Lawson?" Dr Harvery shook her head no.

"There you have it. The cigarette butts do not and never have belonged to Matthew Lawson. Charlie puts his hand over his mouth to stifle a cough. "Now. The next thing. The crime. I initially thought that the perpetrator didn't have anything identifiable about them, but I was wrong."

"Wrong?" Munro demanded.
"Sadly." Charlie said, "Does happen from time to time. Now. Jean if you could do a little demonstration for me, can you please just walk the length of the cell?" Jean did as asked, but looked slightly confused by the movement.
"Do you hear that?" He asked, "Clicking. Heels. I heard that at the crime scene."

"Shoes don't mean I kill-"

"Defensive, Mrs Beazley? But why would you kill your employer? You hadn't been fighting. You had no motive, not to mention, no access to the murder weapon. So not you. So...who?" He looked at each person in turn. Lawson raised his eyebrows. "So. Someone who had it out for either Lawson, or Blake. Maybe both. A woman. Someone who knew Lawson well enough that they know what he smokes, someone who knew what time Blake and I would be leaving the office. Someone who spends enough time at the station to know where the guns are kept." He said, turning slowly until he faced Mattie. "Someone who's a hell of a shot."

"Mattie…"Lawson said, softly. Mattie's eyes water, and Charlie looks at her for a long moment. "You know, it's pretty easy to skew facts. But there's one thing that we're forgetting, isn't that right, Mattie?"

"The murder weapon." She deadpanned. Charlie nodded.

"Exactly. "

"Now, when Blake went down, Mattie, would you say that I had a lot of blood spray on me."

"Yes. "

"Now after reviewing the records, can you say why that was?"

"Because the bullet hit a vein. Blake had no chance of living, no matter how hard Sergeant Davis here tried."

"How many bullets did you dig out of Lucein Blake?"

"One."

"Where was it?"
"His stomach."

"How did a bullet in the stomach nick a vein in the neck? Munro, how many shots did you hear?"
"three."

"The third bullet got me here in the face.' He said, pointing to a sticking plaster on his left cheek, covering a graze. "So how on earth did they hit a vein in Blake's neck, and then miss my cheek?"

'She wasn't aiming for you."

"No she was not. Now how much blood do you think the shooter would have had on her?"

"At least a little. The bloody walls had blood on them."

"Constable, take off your blazer."

"What? Why?" Barbara demanded

"I'm going to spray it with luminol, and then see if it was you."

"You have to be joking. Sir you can't let him..."

"Take the blazer off, Constable." Barbara does as asked, and sets it on the table. Mattie spays the coat with it, and Danny gets the warden to dim the lights. Dr Harvery turns on the UV light. A speckling of blood is present on the Blazer. Munro pales. But not as pale as she was.
"And of course, the murder weapon. Lawson's service pistol, reported missing by him six months ago. Balistics matched it, right Munro?" Munro nods as Charlie gets the warden to turn the lights back on. "Hobart pointed out to me, after we looked though Lawson's house car and desk, that the shooter must still have it. So. Danny, if you will." Danny empties the evidence bag onto the table. The gun slides out. "Matthew, is this your gun?" Lawson looked it over and then nods. Charlie looked over at Munro. Danny passed him the magnetic power. After a careful dusting, he took the bottle of bex that Hobart had had the forethought to dust for him at the station. It's a clear match. Barbara puts a hand over her mouth. Lawson gives her a shocked look. Charlie sighed softly. "Now we know who did it, but Barbara, I just cannot for the life of me figure out why.' She looked at him for a long minute, and then sneered.
"So bloody smart, Davis. Bet you learnt that from him." Charlie raised his eyebrows briefly. "Yes. I did it. I did it because I looked at you and all I could see was Danny Parks happening all over again! You were going to sabotage yourself, just to please him and I couldn't let that happen!" She shouted. "I just couldn't."Charlie looks at her,
"Why frame Lawson?"

"He's just as bad." She spat. "He encouraged you. To set yourself up for failure." Charlie unfolded his hands, and then looked at Ned.
"Arrest her." He said, before looking at Munro. "Call it off." His voice is soft. When the superintendent doesn't respond right away, Charlie looked up and speaks louder. "I said call it off!" Munro nods, and goes to find a phone. Charlie sat on the bed next to Lawson, who put an arm around him again. He looked at the other man, and then put his face in his hands. His whole body deflated, and six months of panic, worry stress and grief seemed to roll onto him in a building wave. Lawson tilted his head back, relieved that he wasn't going to hang.

It was another month before they let Lawson out of prison. Charlie didn't come to collect him, and for the first week he stays in the Blake house, it feels like Charlie's avoiding him. Eventually, he finds him sitting cross legged on Blake's desk, looking at a chalk board covered in names and scribbles. He leant against the door frame, peering in at the tired looking sergeant.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were avoiding me."

"No. Or at least, I don't think so."
"Haven't seen you around. I didn't get to properly thank you for saving my life back there."

"Even Munro knew you weren't guilty."

"You were the only one who acted."

"Danny, Mattie, Mrs Beazley, Munro would you believe even Hobart helped me."
"Because you pushed." Charlie moved over and patted the desk next to him. Lawson climbed up and sat next to him. "You feeling alright?"

"I think a better question would be how are you feeling, after your near death experience.'

"I feel fine. I feel better then fine. I feel pretty damn happy to be alive."

"Good."

"How are you feeling, Charlie?"

"Oddly enough, I don't feel anything." Since the initial wave of sadness at the prison, Charlie'd had a lot of trouble summoning up any kind of emotion related to Blake. "Mattie says that's just how I grieve."
"Is she right?"

"I suppose." he said, "But I've grieved before, and I didn't feel this empty. I had his blood spattered on my face and I just can't feel anything." He said, softly. Lawson pats his back, and gets the feeling Charlie would like to talk about something else.

"How are things at work?" he asked, sliding an arm over Charlie's shoulder.
"Slowly turning back to normal. Danny's been offered a position back in Ballarat. He's thinking it over. Munro still wants you to take early retirement, I still want to throw Hobart down some stairs whenever he talks to me, people are still dying, the mourge is full so we've got bodies in the nursing home...And I've been offered a spot in Melbourne as the 'Senior Sergeant' "

"Will you take it?" Charlie shook his head no.
"I wanted to...But...Well you need me here." Lawson put his cheek on Charlie's head.
"Yes I do."
"And Mattie needs me. And Danny. And well quite frankly...I like it here."

"Don't you miss your family."

"Terribly. But...I have a family here as well." Lawson smiled.
"And we'd miss you as well if you left.' They sit in a comfortable quiet, and eventually, Lawson said, "But you need to choose you. You've spent a long time thinking about other people, Charlie." Shaking his head slightly, Charlie didn't reply. "For a few minutes, in there, I thought you were going to let me hang." Charlie snorted.
"I would have kept trying to prove you innocent until the noose was around your neck, and probably after that."

"Did you ever think I did it?" Charlie shook his head no.
"No...No you were way to buzzed at the hospital to shoot anything."
"Thanks, Charlie."

"Welcome."

"I notice Barbara's not up on your board."

"Yeah...I never even considered her until about three hours before I got to the prison."

"Because she's a woman?"
"No! Because she was my friend!" He said, looking indignant. "I trusted her!" He exclaimed, with wide eyes. "You don't shoot your friend's dad...You just...You don't….You don't do that!" He said, with wide open eyes. Lawson rubbed his arm slowly. Charlie sighed and settled down again.
"How did you come to her?" He asked, and Charlie considers that it's probably not wise to say that his personification of his thoughts told him so he sort of shrugs.
"Process of elimination."
"Ah. Did you have any idea what you were doing at the jail?" Charlie shakes his head no. Lawson laughed. "I also noticed you trying not to cough."
"Yeah. No idea what happened. Just got up there and I must have contacted the bubonic plague or something."
"I thought it was funny."

"You would." Charlie grumbled softly, but didn't break out of the hold.
"Spill it, Charlie. Your job's done. Saved me, avenged Blake, pulled a stunt that would have made him bloody proud, what's eating you?"

"You almost died, and you're asking what's eating me?"

"Hm." He replied.
"Strange man, strange, strange man." Charlie said,
"I'm already attending those stupid counseling sessions, what else do they want from me?"

"I really don't know." Charlie replied, "But, if you must know, I'm angry that you almost died because I made a mistake."

"I didn't."

"But you could have. And then where would I be."

"Charlie, you know as well as I do that they shouldn't have been able to convict me."
"Melbourne hates you."
"They can't get rid of me that easily."
"Munro's pushing for you to be put into retirement."

"So the truce it over?"
"We're grown men, Lawson."

"And you had a truce."

"Yes, we had a truce. Anyway, both the Commissioner and Munro will be out of play sooner rather then later."

"Well you're right about that." Lawson agreed, as they both looked up at the board. Charlie broke away from him, and took a cloth into his hand, before erasing all of the writing. He sighed softly. Lawson hopped off the table.
"So why were you sitting on the table?"

"Chair's broken."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah...Mattie and I broke it. Jean didn't want us coming in here...So we did. And we trashed the place."
"I'm sure Blake would have been pleased with that."

"Well...It snapped Jean out of it."

"And you?"

"Well I got to break Blake's things."
"Sure. You had a good time?"
"No. I feel like rubbish for it."
"But you still did it."
"Well...Mattie asked me too."

Mattie wanders like a ghost, sometimes. Jean had gone to bed, but not before looking into the Doctor's office She hadn't seen Charlie all day. He'd been harder to keep track of more recently. It wouldn't shock her if he was at the station combing over old records, trying to find something to keep busy with. She passes the doctor's room, only to hear a soft breathing on the inside. Jean had made sure no one was allowed in there, to touch the Doctor's things. Everything had to be just how he left it. She knows it's just grief, but she resents it all the same.

She opens the door, and peers inside. Charlie was lying on the bed, still in his police uniform. His face was buried in the Doctor's pillow, as If he was desperately trying to inhale the last of him, and hold it in his lungs. She watched for moment. She wanted to say something, to wake him up and remind him that Jean didn't want them touch his things But she was conflicted, because Charlie just looked so lost that if he had found something to hold onto, she didn't want to take it away. She goes into to the room, and watches his back rise and fall, and his grip on the pillow tighten every few breathes.

After a moment. She gently shakes him away. "Hm? Oh...Mattie." Charlie murmurs, sitting up slowly. She gets him to release the pillow, and sits next to him on the bed. He put an arm around her, after a moment. His blazer is slightly rough on her bare arms but she can't bring herself to care. After a moment, the tears come again. She can't stop them, just sitting here, with his things brings them on. Charlie turns to hold her closely and even if they aren't close, she can't help but feel grateful to him. She understands why he came in here. He, like her, just wants to be close to him. They don't exchange any words between themselves, they eventually just lie in amongst this sheets and pillows, breathing in the last of him. If Jean ever saw it, she never said anything.

"And you'd do anything she asked?" Charlie shrugged.
"Probably." Lawson nodded, and after a moment, turned Charlie to face him.
"Charlie." He said, softly, and Charlie looked down, only to notice his shaking fingers.
"They're shaking."

"They are."
"I'm sorry"
"Don't be." Lawson said, softly. He carefully took both of Charlie's hands into his own, holding then between them, before wrapping his other arm around Charlie and pulling him close. It's not the same, as it was with Blake. Lawson smells like cheap soap and spilled tea, but it seems to be strangely comforting. It's not until Lawson feels an unfamiliar wetness on his cheeks that he realizes that, like Charlie, he's crying.