Oh wow it happened, sooner than planned! Of course once the idea came I just had to write it and unleash it. Anyway, a lot of my Suburban Legends reviewers said they would like a sequel so here it is! Fingers crossed it's as good as if not better than the original! To all new readers I advise you read Suburban Legends first.

This fic is going to be set 7 months after. Please read and review!

She looked to the left, darkness, then to the right, darkness and above, darkness. She tried to stretch her hands out to feel her way through the suffocating black and they banged hard against wood. She was trapped! Her chest felt tight as her heart beat erratically against her ribcage, bump, bump, bump, too quick, she was breathing too quickly too, she had to slow it down, had to preserve what stale air there was. Did anyone know she was here?

She beat her fists hard against the wood and started to scream, wasting the precious oxygen in a panic. It was too dark and too small; she was going to die down here, lost, alone, forgotten. "NO! NO! NO!"

Detective Ridley Moon awoke in a cold sweat and for a brief moment was simply confused as she made to sit up and realised she could. So she wasn't trapped but what was wrong then? Darkness. The gasp escaped her before she could help it as her head turned about sharply in a panic and she threw the sheets she had become tangled in off in a panic. Trapped, vulnerable, lost in the dark. She fumbled in the dark for the holster looped over her bedpost and immediately yanked out her gun.

There was a low, deep rumble followed by a bright, white, sudden flash that had her tensing in alarm. There was a storm then, as she tried and failed to relax she realised she could hear the heavy pounding of rain on her tiled roof. It was pouring out there, heavy, warm drops that were simply a side effect of the humid Miami weather. Ridley didn't think she would ever get used to the clammy temperatures, long periods of scorching sun, or the storms and right now she didn't want to.

She stood upright with a shudder, tensing again as another flash of lightning illuminated her room for a few seconds. Shadows, there were too many shadows and she was starting to shake as she felt an uncomfortable and horribly familiar panic begin to take over. There were too many places to hide in the dark, and with the electric out her alarms were out too, anyone could be in her house without her knowing. She had to get out, outside there was space, outside she could run. It was ludicrous but as the blackness continued to smother her the feeling of being trapped grew and she found herself standing and hastening to the door.

Move slowly, be cautious, and don't make a sound, this was the mantra she chanted over to herself internally as she tried to quieten her loud breathing. She reached for her bedroom door knob with a trembling hand, swallowing hard as she only just managed to stop it from squeaking as she eased it open. Anyone could be out there in her hall and she had no way of knowing!

'Shit, keys!' she thought anxiously as her eyes rolled back desperately to the abyss behind her. 'End of the bed,' she reminded herself, 'end of the bed in your handbag.' She crept back hastily, pausing and waiting impatiently for another flash of lightning to guide her. She screamed when the light illuminated her room once more and she found a ghoulish figure staring back.

Detective Tim 'Speed' Speedle awoke with the low rumblings of the storm and reached for his lamp. He grumbled out a curse when it failed to light as he realised the power was down. 'Must be one bad storm,' he thought cynically. It sounded close, heavy, loud and destructive. He reached for his phone and pressed the button, illuminating the room slightly and showing the time to be 02:15. He frowned at the old-fashioned, metal, belled alarm clock beside his bed, silver with red hands and completely unsuited to his tastes. It ticked loudly, giving a faint metallic echo as it did and when the bells went off he always struggled to turn the damn thing off and often found himself heading to work with a headache. Of course those moments were rare, as he rarely used the thing; in fact he never personally set it. The clock was a gift from Ridley Moon, Tim's...something, he didn't even really know what kind of relationship they had anymore. When she was visiting his house she would often seize an opportunity to sneak into his bedroom and set the clock without him being aware.

Seeing the clock brought Ridley to the forefront of his mind as he rubbed at his mussed, thick, dark hair tiredly and looked at his phone again. If his electric was out hers probably was and if the storm had him awake she would definitely be up, alone in the dark and probably more than a little scared. He started dialling her number, pressing the phone to the side of his face as he forced himself to sit upright and wake up more. The rain was almost deafening now and when Ridley's phone rang off to her answer phone he felt a prickle of worry. No matter what time Tim called at, Ridley always answered, she never put her phone on silent and she was incapable of sleeping through it, in fact she was incapable of sleeping through the simplest of noises these past few months.

"Shit," he grumbled as he snapped the phone closed and stretched his arms out. He knew he was just being paranoid but still, he had made a promise to himself that he would always react to his gut feeling when it came to Ridley. He had almost lost her once and they were still going through the recovery process of that horrific incident, he knew he would never forgive himself if he ignored his worries and something happened again. It was highly unlikely but still, better safe than sorry. As he stood up he tried ringing her again but she failed to answer.

He dressed hastily, fumbling about awkwardly and cursing many times as he banged into several objects. Eventually, thanks to his phone, he was able to find a pair of reasonably clean jeans on the floor, a black t-shirt and a pair of trainers. Finding a suitable coat proved to be a much more difficult task as he didn't actually own a raincoat and he was ninety-percent positive that his standard issue CSI coat was at work. With another curse he grabbed a jacket that he knew would be worse than useless in the storm and then finally he strapped on his gun and grabbed his keys.

Ten minutes later found him soaked and cursing in his car as he looked out to a blurry gloom. Driving at night was unpleasant enough but driving in a storm like this was just idiotic. 'Chivalrous,' he chided himself dryly as he hit the wipers on full power and squinted ahead. 'Damn this storm's close,' he thought moodily as he saw lightning spark just metres away. 'If I don't spin out on the roads I'll probably get hit by a falling tree.' He glanced at his mobile and pressed the call button, one more time before he did something stupid. It rang out again and he knew something had to be wrong, Ridley would never ignore three calls from him, even when she was angry with him she at least texted 'I'm fine now fuck off'. It was their unspoken agreement; Ridley would always let him know she was okay even if they technically weren't talking.

He pulled out onto the road as carefully as he could, wincing as his tyres seemed to slide a little too easily onto the tarmac and the rain threatened to pound through the metallic roof. He was sardonically thankful that at least no one else should be out there for him to collide into. He drove slowly though he wanted to burn rubber; he knew he was no good to Ridley wrapped around a tree. 'Suppose I should be grateful she made me keep the car,' he thought cynically. Tim had wanted a motorbike and had intended to trade his car for one but Ridley had grumbled about how unsafe bikes were, how she would never share one with him and how they were no good in bad weather. In the end Tim had compromised by getting the motorbike anyway but keeping his beat up car as well though he rarely drove it anymore.

Normally Ridley was just a half hour drive away, twenty minutes if it was a quiet day, that had been her compromise coming down to Miami from New York, that she would rent a house close to one of them. She had come very close to getting one near Calleigh and the beach but it was over a good hour away from Tim's, though she had denied that being a factor to the blonde who had lamented that they wouldn't have as many girlie nights with Ridley far away. Ridley had replied teasingly that a few streets away wasn't as bad as several states away.

Forty-five minutes passed by before Ridley's modest home loomed into view. Tim almost missed it until the lightning illuminated the bent post box out front with a gold 22b painted on its side. His car screeched to a halt sloppily as he struggled momentarily with the wheel and ended up parking it sideways against the kerb. He turned off the engine, yanked out the keys, hurried out, hit the key fob and ran for it. He headed towards her front door, his eyes widening when he heard a low banging in the wind. He hurried forward, phone out to illuminate his way, and halted in alarm when he saw that her front door was wide open, hitting against the wall with the force of the storm.

"Ridley! RIDLEY!" he yelled as loudly as he could but he may as well have not bothered, he could barely hear his own voice over the storm. Inside or out? Where should he check first? Damnit he was wasting time thinking about it! He headed to her drive, her car was still there but he didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Should he call for help? He turned around with a scowl and hurried back to the porch, glancing about him as his feet splashed through numerous puddles. He halted suddenly when a flash of lightning showed the silhouette of...something at the front of the house in the small garden. Tim wasn't sure what it could be though it made him nervous enough to tug out his gun before he hastened towards it.

The rain beat off him mercilessly, showing no signs of letting up, it was so hard it was beginning to hurt and his exposed skin was turning red with the force. He held his phone out though he knew the light hindered as much as helped him, giving him away to a potential foe. He kept moving forward, unable to make it out until he was almost on top of it, then the lightning flashed again and he glimpsed a familiar, frightened grey-brown eye staring up at him. He sheathed his gun and dropped to a crouch immediately. "Ridley!" he snapped in alarm when he felt the cold nozzle of a gun pressed against the bridge of his nose.

"Tim?" her voice was barely audible.

"Ridley it's me, what the hell are you doing?" he demanded as he pushed back some of his soaked hair.

"Tim."

Blood. His eyes widened as he realised that's what the dark stains his phone light reflected off were, large and little drops and stains all over her hands and arms and even her face. He reached out to her, gently, unsurprised when she was stiff and resilient, caught up in her confusion and fear. "Damnit Ridley come on," he ordered as he urged her to stand. He guided her with one hand about her waist, his phone out in his other hand as he attempted to guide them. It was hard moving through the damp mud and several times his trainers threatened to stay behind in the drenched garden. He guided Ridley as far as the open front door before pausing and looking at her with a concerned frown. "Ridley," he queried in a serious voice, struggling to be audible over the storm, "is there someone inside?"

She shook her head as her lip trembled.

"Are you sure?" he practically shouted it.

She shook her head again. "Too dark."

He sighed and tugged the front door shut, then he tugged out his key and locked the door with his spare key. "Let's get to the car," he decided. He took her by the hand and they hastened through the rain to his car.

Once they were inside, Tim locked the doors, turned on the heater and flipped on the light above them before turning to take in her soaked, bedraggled appearance. What he could see of her wounds were largely superficial and it was difficult to tell what had caused them. She was hunched over, her arms crossed tightly over herself. "Ridley what happened?" he demanded.

"I woke up and everything was dark," she confessed quietly as she stared forward listlessly, "and I started to panic because I knew the power was out." She hunched forward slightly, pausing to push back some of her damp, dark hair. "I tried to go through the steps, but I thought if someone was there they would hear my deep breathing and I wouldn't hear them... It was so stupid, I had to get out, I just wanted to be outside and I went to leave and then realised I forgot my keys." She shook her head and let out a horrid laugh that set Tim's teeth on edge. "I turned to get my keys, the lightning flashed and of course I just happened to be facing my mirror when that happened..." She bowed her head slightly and shook it. "Of course I freaked out and I...shit..." She paused and looked down at herself warily.

"Ridley what do you do?" Tim demanded seriously as he felt a pang of worry rush through him.

She parted her arms slowly with a wince, suddenly aware that the dampness around them was warm and felt different to the rain. "There were shards everywhere," she murmured softly, "the mirror broke...I shot, it was instinctive, I thought someone was there and I took a shot..."

"At the mirror." Tim's eyes went wide as he noticed the dark crimson stain covering her left arm. "Shit," he cursed as he turned on his engine hastily and flicked on the lights. "There's a cloth in the glove compartment, wrap it around your arm tightly," he ordered as he started to drive. The lightning had flashed and she had saw a figure and fired without thinking only it had been her own reflection and evidently the bullet had ricocheted off the mirror, shattering it in the process before hitting her left arm.

The car skidded dangerously several times and even did a 180 as Tim drove in a state of panic, wondering how long she had been sitting in her garden simply bleeding, how deep the wound was and how much blood she had already lost. He drove to the hospital in the space of thirty-five precious minutes. Of course it was busy when they got there, many people had already been injured in the storm but after some anxious shouting and grumbles about being detectives, Tim finally got Ridley in to get her wounds treated.

It was almost two hours before Tim would learn that the bullet had gone straight through and was lying in Ridley's bedroom somewhere, that it had narrowly missed an artery and that was Ridley was in fact okay and just in need of some minor stitching. During that time he remained outside the door to the operating room, grim faced and soaked to the bone, wondering and worrying about Ridley's state of mind.

Ridley had transferred down to Miami just three months ago. When she had arrived she had been put on immediate full paid leave with regular daily sessions with the Miami-Dade psychiatrist. It was Lieutenant Caine who had arranged it all after Ridley had worked with them on concluding a case that had started in New York and finished in Miami.

The Suburban Legends Killer as he had come to be known was a serial killer who had murdered in the style of urban legends, killing numerous people in horrific fashion, including Ridley's partner Detective Silver. It had come to a boil when he had taken Ridley as a victim, torturing and raping her for hours before burying her alive, he had intended her to die buried alive but had been foiled by Lieutenant Caine and Detective Speedle finding her just in time. In the end, thanks to the evidence she had left on him and her descriptions on him, and his determination to defeat them leading to the sloppy mistake of taking Detective Delko for his next victim, they had found and killed their killer.

It was all just six months ago that it had ended and Ridley had headed back to New York. Of course she had been enticed back to Miami by Tim just five days later to spend Christmas in Miami with her friends before heading back to New York once more to take some time contemplating Lieutenant Caine's offer of a transfer to Miami, some time to grieve, and some time to cope with her own personal trauma and nightmares.

Now it was June, close to the anniversary of Detective Silver's brutal murder and also close to Ridley returning to work as a detective and starting her new role in Miami, and Tim was in serious doubt that she was ready. He understood her fear, hell he had expected it but opening fire on a suspected intruder in her home without even trying to identify them, if it had been a real intruder...well of course she had a right to defend herself but killing someone was still killing someone and wasn't she damn lucky the bullet had only hit her arm? Then sitting outside in her garden, exposed and bleeding out... She was still dangerously unstable.

The doctor eventually came out with reassurances and granted Tim permission to see Ridley. She was sitting on a plastic chair, arm bandaged and in a sling, stitches on her left cheek and down her right arm and an apologetic look on her pallid face. "I'm sorry Tim," she said quietly as she met his worried stare, "please don't tell Horatio."

Tim sighed and scratched at his drenched hair awkwardly before shutting the door behind him. "Ridley..."

"I'm due back at work," she said a little more clearly, "and I don't want another month off. Please, it was alright when I had the distraction of finding a house and moving in but that's all gone now and it's horrible just being stuck with my thoughts day after day."

"Ridley you could have shot someone without identifying them, you could have killed them, you could have killed yourself," he retorted in a serious tone.

"I know," she replied with a dejected look, "it was stupid of me, I...I had a nightmare...I was in the dark, trapped, and then I woke up only...only the nightmare was still happening, it was still dark..." She trailed off as her hands started shaking and she suppressed a tremble.

Tim eyed her quivering hands warily; it had been worse as recent as three months ago, he had thought it had stopped but now he was wondering if she had just gotten good at hiding it. "Ridley you're still suffering post traumatic stress," he said as gently as he could.

"Oh is that what it is?" she snapped defensively with an angry look in her brown-grey eyes. "When you get kidnapped and held hostage and tortured and...and raped," she choked out the last word as her eyes filled with tears. "You don't just get over it!" she snapped. "You move on but I can't if I don't get back to work."

Tim took a step towards her and reached out to embrace her but she pushed him back angrily with one hand. He let out a heavy sigh, she wouldn't stay at his house because that was where she had been taken from by the killer, hell it had only been in the last month that she had started coming by again but she was jumpy when he tried to embrace her and whilst certain things were allowed there was no sex. He understood it of course, never questioned it and tried to be understanding about it but more and more she seemed to be pushing him away as if determined to do it alone.

"Ridley I understand okay and I want you back at work, of course I do but I don't want you going back before you're ready because I care okay?" he added with his own defensive look as she glowered up at him. "Look, let me take you to a hotel, get a nice bed and we'll talk about it tomorrow."

"Tim I can't," she answered wearily as she rubbed at her eyes viciously with her free hand, "I...I'm sorry, God it's been months but..." She shook her head. "It's not fair to you, I can't... I just can't be with you."

"Ridley I get it," he retorted calmly, "and I'm not looking for anything I just know you won't come to mine and you can't go home with the electric still out, that's all."

She sighed again and nodded weakly.

It was just after noon the next day that Tim took Ridley back to her house and helped her check round it for evidence of a break in. Satisfied that no one had entered the property, he then helped her tidy up the bloody mirror shards and the bloodstains on the carpet before leaving her to go to the Miami-Dade Headquarters. It was there, after some serious debating with himself, that he confessed what had happened to Horatio. He had contemplated saying nothing but then Horatio had given him a look and demanded to know what was wrong and somehow it had all come out. Well not all of it but enough for Horatio to head round to Ridley's to discuss the matter with her.

In the end Horatio had recommended another month off for Ridley, assuring her warmly that she would still receive full pay and have a job kept open for her and that it was for her own good. She had protested angrily, cried, cursed and even called Tim a liar and a blabbermouth to Horatio before accepting the unyielding Horatio's decision with a sigh and a sad nod. She had then attended the psychiatrist with a bleak stare and accepted the recommended medication she had been so resistant to.

Tim spent the rest of the day in the lab in a bad mood prompting his best friend Detective Eric Delko to query it. After much prompting Eric finally wheedled the truth out of a guilty Tim before assuring him that he had done the right thing. Despite Eric's reassuring words Tim felt guilty anyway and he was unsurprised when Ridley replied to his concerned text with- 'I'm shit, leave me the fuck alone'.

Horatio had tried to reassure his traces expert too, confidently remarking that when Ridley was ready they would know and that she would improve. He even suggested that all it might take was the right case; little knowing that one was about to crop up, pushing the mundane cases of drug shipping, illegals trespassing, theft, vandalism and murder to the background.

One more short month of peace was all they were going to have before Miami was turned upside down by the disturbing, weird and terrifying.

This prologue just seemed to flow out of me last night, honestly I just couldn't stop typing it! I debated about it for a while though as I obviously don't want Ridley being a damsel and I sort of imagined a more gripping opening for the sequel but honestly I liked this so I went with it. Basically I figure given everything they all went through that they all still have issues, especially Ridley who wants to better and working again but despite her best efforts just isn't. I also figured her relationship with Tim would still be complicated because I felt that was realistic.

So anyway, I hope you all enjoy, please read and review!