You Break

Set directly after the attack on "Natalie"
Something akin to denial screamed at him, that this could be happening, not again, not to her.

Chapter One

John's stomach churned as he entered the kitchen of the diner, that familiar red hair, that body draped over the vat of hot oil, Natalie. Something akin to denial screamed at him, that this could be happening, not again, not to her. He quickly scanned the room, metal of his gun cool in his hand as he approached the body, lifting her carefully from the burning liquid as he fought back a gag, the mere thought overwhelming him; that his wasn't Natalie anymore, just a body, not her. He rolled her to the side and carefully brushed away the hot strands of red hair, that felt harsh and fake beneath his fingers, like doll hair, except it wasn't, it was hers. "What?" John asked confused, starring down at the burned flesh of her face. It wasn't her, thank god. "Natalie?" He called.

There was a whimper, tiny and child like and relief flooded John's veins. Tucked into a corner was Natalie. She was safe; it wasn't her. Emotion too powerful to understand swelled within him. Most of all frantic relief pushed its way to the surface as crouched down in front of her trembling form. "Natalie?" He spoke in a softer tone, her eyes wide and fearful, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. "Are you okay? Did you see anything?"

She did not reply and John noticed the glassy look in her eyes, distant, sapphire marbles that saw nothing. Reaching a hand out he tried again, "Natalie, what happened?" His hand brushed against her arm lightly and the contact made Natalie withdrawal further back into the corner, her movements jerky and frenzied, wrenching her tightly wound body away from John's hand.

John leaned back slightly, his one hand in the air. Her reaction was startling and unsettling. He had wanted to take her into his arms and hold her close, to never let go and know that she was real, she was alive, and she was safe. But Natalie's reaction forced him to deal with the situation at hand, letting any impulse he had to hold her go. "Whoa there. I'm not gonna hurt you. It's just me."

But her eyes were still fixed at nothing, her eyes didn't track his movements, just stared forward, seeing through him, seeing nothing, making John feel sick and helpless as he dropped from a crouch to his knees. "Natalie? Natalie, can you hear me? It's John." Yet Natalie sat silent. John tried again, checking over his shoulder as he spoke to her. This wasn't a safe place. He had to get her out of here. "Natalie, if you can understand me, I need you to tell me what happened."

Finally with a sigh and a shake of his head, he called out, "Someone call and get a paramedic here!"

"I'm here, John." Michael said pushing his way past Carlotta, who had disintegrated into a mass of tears and incoherent sentences, entering the kitchen only to stop short. The red hair, that still body, just hours earlier she had been worried about catching her death of cold because of the rain, oh god.

"Michael!" John called out and Michael turned to see his brother kneeling in front of someone.

Michael hastened over. "Natalie?" He asked, eyes pinging between the body lying so perfectly still by the vat of hot oil and the cowering form in front of his older brother. "Then who-"

"The waitress." John replied, standing giving Michael room to see Natalie's condition.

"Is she?" Michael asked. He had never been good at that part of the job, of talking about death. Doctors were supposed to be pros. He wasn't even close. Bad news, it killed him, and it seemed to swirl around people he cared about, always a hovering black cloud.

"Yeah. It looks like she was strangled first." John replied, running a hand over his face trying to reign in his emotion, his nerves raw and exposed from the shock of red hair when he first enter, from knowing it was so close to being her. He had to concentrate, had to get it together. "Look man, Natalie is ..." The words wouldn't come. If he thought about it too much he wouldn't be able to do his job; he wouldn't be able to leave her. "But I gotta go get this guy." He or she was still out there, and they would strike again.

"Yeah, go on." Michael nodded. "I'll take care of her."

"I know." John replied so softly that it was barely audible as he stepped out of the kitchen.

The diner was a mass of chaos. Marcie was doing her best to calm Carlotta as Evangeline gave details to the 911 operator and Marcie's guard stood around helplessly. Before John even got on the other side of the counter he was bombarded with questions, what happened, was Natalie okay, what was going on.

John took the questions in stride. "It wasn't Natalie. It must have been the waitress."

Carlotta gave a sigh of relief before guilt set in that she should be grateful for another's demise, she couldn't help it though, Natalie, she was Christian's wife, she was her mija. "Then where is she?"

"She's okay." John held up a hand as Carlotta moved to go and check on her daughter in law. "She's in shock. Michael is taking care of her."

"In shock? I don't understand." Carlotta said. "Was she hurt?"

"Did she see something?" Marcie chimed in.

"I don't know." John admitted. "But right now my first concern is catching whoever did this. Rob," He motioned with a jerk of his head to the police officer guarding Marcie. "I want you to call in back up. I want this place shut down for the next five square miles, barricades, the whole nine yards."

"On it."

"Mommy," the bells above the door chimed as Antonio came rushing in. "What is it?"

"The waitress... she was killed." Carlotta said.

"Good, you're here." John spoke. "I want you to stay with them. No one besides Michael and the paramedics are allowed in there until CSU comes."

"I don't understand." Antonio said, staying close to Carlotta's side. "What's going on?"

"Carlotta can fill you in. Right now we gotta find whoever did this." John said before disappearing back into the kitchen.

"Mommy," Antonio helped move her into a booth. "What happened?"

"I don't know." Replied his mother wringing her small tanned hands. "I went in to check on them and there she was. Face in the oil vat. I screamed... I dunno. I thought it was Natalie."

"In the oil?" Asked Marcie already aware of the answer. "She was in the oil, just like in my book. Oh god. Why did I ever write it?"

Evangeline hung up the phone, the operator stateside with the location and having assured her help was on the way. "Stop it." She approached Marcie, trying to comfort her, trying to show her she was not to blame. "It's not your fault. Someone out there is killing people, not you. You are not responsible for what happens in their twisted mind."

"No. I just give him all the ideas on how to murder people." Marcie held up a hand and backed away from Evangeline's comforting outstretched hand. She didn't deserve consoling, another person was dead because of her, because of what she had written. "I'm sorry. I just can't do this right now. I thought it was over. That the killer was only targeting the love crew and everyone had guards. Why is he going after people I don't even know?"

"I don't have the answer to that." Evangeline admitted before turning to check in on Antonio and a visibly shaken Carlotta. "I'm so sorry, Carlotta. Were you guys close? Did she work here long?"

"No. I had just hired her in fact. I think I still have her application under the counter somewhere. Lord, I can't even remember her name."

"It's okay. PD will work it out."

Antonio added. "She's right. Don't beat yourself up about it."

"I know, I know. It's just that poor girl- I just wish I knew what was keeping Natalie. I would feel so much better if she was with us." Squeezing Antonio's hand, she added. "She is so strong."

Antonio returned the squeeze, bending down to place a kiss on his mother's forehead. "She has nothing on you."

Evangeline slid into the booth across from Carlotta. "Don't worry. I'm sure she's fine. From what I've seen Natalie doesn't break easily."

John held the phone to his ear, listening to the report streaming from the other end. "Good. Keep me informed."

"So what the good word?" Michael asked from where he was sitting in front of Natalie shinning a pen light into each of her unwavering eyes.

"More like no word." John acknowledged. "Angel Groove is being searched. Patrol teams are out now and barricades have been set along the perimeter. If he's on foot we'll get him."

"We better." Michael placed the small light back in his pocket. "This thing is just killing Marcie."

"I know." John replied as he approached them. "So what's the diagnosis, doc?"

"She's non responsive, but her pupils are equal and reactive so I don't think she is suffering from a fall of some kind. Most likely? Shock."

"That doesn't sound very clinical."

Michael stood, giving a last glance to Natalie, knees tucked under her chin, blue eyes wide, yet seeing nothing. "Okay, post traumatic stress disorder."

"No." Said John, shaking his head. That didn't fit with the Natalie he knew, the Natalie who could handle anything. "That can't be right. It's gotta be something else."

"It's not that uncommon, John. I mean the human body handles shock in some strange ways, let me tell you."

"Not Natalie. I'm telling you, Michael, I have seen this girl go through some pretty hardcore stuff, stuff that would make a normal person break and she has held fast."

"Well, maybe she saw something." Michael shrugged. "All I can tell you is that physically as far as I can tell she's fine."

"That's fine?" John shouted, not able to keep the bite out of his voice.

Michael backed up, palms in front of him. "Hey, Bro, I'm not saying that I like seeing Natalie like this. Just that it's kinda not that surprising under the circumstances is all. I mean, witnessing a murder has got to mess with your mind." Seeing John grimace, Michael quickly amended. "Well, for people who aren't in the profession of hunting down psychos.

John exhaled, trying to wrap his mind around Michael's explanation, one with too many holes to hold any water. Natalie had dealt with so much, more than her fair share for sure, and she had never had a reaction like this. "Maybe..." He allowed trying to force the idea to fit. He told himself that he should be out there searching, not here. Michael said she was fine, that it was a common occurrence. John just wished he believed him. "Wait. What is that?" John asked, cocking his head to the side, eyes fixed on Natalie.

"What's what?" Michael asked, coming to stand next to his brother.

"Her wrists." John bent down, getting a closer look. "There is something black on them. Like melted plastic."

"Let me see that." Michael brushed his brother aside and peered closely at the blackness along Natalie's wrists. Not plastic, fibers but they seemed to be melted together, fused to her skin "That's odd." Michael commented, bending his head to try to get a glimpse of her hands.

"What's odd?" John asked hovering.

Twisting his body he finally got a glimpse at the edge of her right hand and then Michael understood. He understood all too well. "Oh God."

TBC

A\N: This is my first Jolie fic... Any comments or suggestions would mean the world to me.