A/N: Welcome to a very special colaboration between me and another writer who is not a member of this site but whom I share and bounce a lot of ideas off and with. This story had been in the works for some time, both as a concept and as written. I sincerly hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 1

Late at night, New York rooftop:

They say Las Vegas is the city that never sleeps. Guess they didn't know about New York yet. Or crime for that matter.

Even at night there's always something going on because not everyone sleeps at night. In fact, it's often at night that the nastier of the crimes seem to happen.

In the darkness or in the light, it's all the same to me.

I'm a veteran of the New York City Police Department. You don't make it to the level of Detective without seeing a few things, especially not when you're a Level One Crime Scene Investigator. Every day there's always something new, some new twist on the same old story. The theme of the story can be robbery, rape, assault, or my not-so-personal favorite theme, murder. Everyone has a story, even the victims, and it's my job to find out what that story is, even if they are so stupid it's all I can do to not laugh.

I've seen smart people, people with degrees coming out of their ears, do the most amazingly stupid things, and I've seen the exact opposite happen.

Just when I think I've seen it all, I realize I haven't.

The thing is, though, this is my city. As a cop, I'm its protector, a protector of the people, so to speak. And it's a duty I take very seriously. I may not be able to stop the crime but I can see to it that the victim does get justice, no matter how long it takes. Everything's connected and it's my job to find that connection.

Sure, sometimes the amount of seemingly senseless crimes frustrates me. Sometimes it feels like I get one perp off the street, only to have to deal with another one, and another one. I've been cussed at, punched, shot at, you name it, and sometimes by the very people I'm trying to protect. It's enough to frustrate the hell out of anyone. Some days it's enough to make me want to give up. To bang my head against a wall until I bleed or pass out. Or to cry.

But then, something will happen, and I'll realize that all my hard work is worth it. Somebody's got to protect the city, and since I volunteered, it's a duty I won't back away from. And that's enough to get me out of bed, strap on my badge and gun, and on my way to the crime lab.

Rich, poor, young, old, college-educated, dropout, male, female, no one's immune, either as a criminal or as a victim. A lot of people have learned that I can be your best friend, or if you're on the wrong side of the law, your worst nightmare come true.

New York rooftop, several miles away:

The night has fallen again. For most it's a time of rest. Not for me. It's the time when nightmare become reality and I become both hunter and hunted, protector, and deadly enemy. What I hunt, few would believe exist, and I envy them in their innocence.

I did not ask for this battle, but it is mine and for me it will end with my death, but not before I have taken as many as I can with me. I will not go gently into this good night.

When I am gone another will be called to take my place, and the fight will continue, as it has always done and as long as we continue to fight, to hope, it will always be. They will not win; we dare not let them, for to let them win is to plunge this world in to an eternal darkness us humans have never seen before.

I remember when I had the same innocence as the people I fight for. It was not that long ago. Now I look in the mirror and see a person I hardly recognize. The face is the same, but the face holds a pair of eyes that show the hardness of a person much older; the eyes of a warrior with so much blood on her hands.

I have scars, so many scars. The physical ones heal but the emotional ones, they will never heal. I've seen those I call 'friend' die before my eyes, helpless to save them. I know, oh how I know, that there was nothing I could have done to save them, to protect them because for some, the darkness came to them because they chose to walk the path without a light.

I know I don't walk this road alone, and that is a comfort, but a small comfort, for I know too, they will die like me. Alone. Forgotten. We only ask one thing; that when we die, we die trying to do the right thing, trying to protect those that cannot protect themselves from that which they do not understand.

My nightmares are real. For those who cross me, I aim to make theirs just as. And while I am still standing, still capable of fighting, I aim to do it well. It's my duty, my calling, and I will not walk away as long as there is breath in me.