Michael was back in the darkness he loved. The light was a terrible thing to him. He felt no joy in the warmth of the sun's rays. Light just meant people. And people had a knack of staring at him. Crazy Michael. Crazy Michael with the voices in his head. Don't speak to crazy Michael, noo. He might bite you. And crazy Michael had sharp teeth.

Moonlight, streaming in through the holes in the roof of the room he had claimed as his own, reflected slightly off of the shiny plastic coating of the pictures of his angels. His eyes sparkled in the cold light as he softly stroked first one face and then the other, his expression frozen in a mask of purest happiness. A tear rolled down his cheek from an unblinking eye as he thought of his angel lying on the floor again. The fingers of his other hand unconsciously running through his own hair as the memories flooded his head.

Michael

His fingers stilled as the voice rang in his mind . He didn't need to answer. He wouldn't. He was thinking of his angels. He didn't need him.

Michael

"No Stan." Michael had wanted more conviction in his voice, but all that had come out was a whisper.

MICHAEL. Don't ignore me Michael. You can't ignore me can you? You need me Michael

"NO!" A shout this time. Michael crumpled into himself, his arms hugging his head as he tried to shut out the voice. He didn't want Stan. He wanted his angels.

I know why you're upset Michael. They took our angel again didn't they. Yes. Stole her away

A choking sob wrenched from the tangle of arms and legs as he remembered the flashing lights and the people. Like always. They always came and ruined it. They always took her away.

Michael, we can get another angel. A new angel

"No," he breathed "no Stan. They take our angels always. We can't ever keep our angels."

That's why we need another one Michael

"No!"

Don't make me angry Michael. You know what happens when I'm angry

A shuddering gasp broke from his lips as he registered the threat. Fresh tears filling his eyes.

Yes...I'll leave again Michael. I'll go away again. And this time, I won't be coming back

"Stan," Michael said, openly weeping "no Stan, I'm sorry, don't leave me again, don't leave me alone."

Silence...a silence so complete it felt like a cloth sack had covered his head. Shutting out the world. Clogging his senses. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't see.

"STAN!"

His breathing became ragged as pure panic set in. His heart beating so fast it felt like it was ripping out of his chest.

"Okay!" He cried "another angel! Just don't...don't leave me!" Michael broke down completely now. His body boneless on the ground and wracked with huge sobs. One hand clutching for the pictures of his angels. The other spasming as it stroked his most treasured possession. For another agony filled moment there was nothing and then,

Shhhh. Shhh Michael. I won't leave you. Not when there are angels in the world to add to the collection

"Angels, angels," Michael said softly through his tears. Nodding as his pounding heart slowed its beating. His exhausted body unwillingly falling into a twitching sleep.

Angelsss


Joe Hardy groaned as he woke from a deep slumber, the sun streaming through his window straight into his eyes. Grunting a little, he rolled over to the side of the bed, swinging his legs around and hissing as he felt the aches in his body.

"Oh yeah," he said aloud to himself as the memories from the previous night flooded his mind.

The officers had both drawn their weapons, each pointing towards the Hardys and their quarries. Frank and Joe had eased their hands into the air and a moment of tension passed until one of the policemen gasped slightly in recognition.

"What the hell is going on here!"

"Alan?" said Frank, recognising the new officer from earlier in the day. Seeing the man's stance relax slightly he continued "these two knuckle heads decided they wanted to play with the lady over there, only they didn't ask nicely." He motioned with his head towards the woman who still sat frozen on the ground, silent tears streaming down her cheeks and blood dripping down her legs from ragged knees.

Seeing the woman, Alan's face snapped from confusion to grim understanding as he holstered his weapon.

"Stand down," he whispered to his partner, who relaxed and also snapped his gun back into his belt. "Alright," he continued, taking out his cuffs and walking to the thug Joe had incapacitated, "Stu, radio in for a medic whilst I deal with these clowns."

Only once the two men were safely in the back of the patrol car did Frank and Joe stop to take stock of their injuries. Joe limped over to his brother who was holding his left shoulder, blood streaming down his chin from the split in his lip.

"Well don't you look all rugged and masculine when you're bleeding," Joe quipped, apparently at ease but all the while checking Frank over with his eyes for any other serious injuries.

"Wait till tomorrow when you're sporting a big ol' bruise on your face before you start ragging on me," replied Frank, equally checking out Joe for the same reason. He fished in his pocket with his good arm bringing out a tissue to stem the bleeding from his lip, ripping off a piece and handing it to Joe who gingerly applied it to his cheek.

Satisfied they had both gotten away with minor cuts and bruises they turned their attentions to the would be victim who was now standing, albeit with the help of Alan, her tears drying as she shakily gave her statement. Stopping a moment as she noticed the brothers walking towards her, she heaved a shaky breath before fixing them with a smile.

"Thank you, really, I don't know what I would have done..."

The Hardys nodded once in unison, Frank bending to pick up some of the spilled contents of her purse before handing them to her. He caught Joe's eye as he did so and saw the same understanding reflected back at him. The woman was easily in her forties. And her hair almost jet black. The likelihood of her almost being the third victim of Bayport's serial killer looked entirely slim. Most serial killers had a type that they almost religiously stuck to and rarely deviated from. Which meant the bozos in the back of the police car were just your common garden variety scumbags.

Giving their statements to the police, they were interrupted by the arrival of more flashing lights in the form of an ambulance. After checking out and cleaning Frank's lip and with the addition of a butterfly bandage to Joe's cheek, the Hardys were deemed fit and finally headed for their cars and their homes. But not before more thanks from the shaken woman they had left firmly in the care of the medics.

Thus Joe had finally opened his door to be greeted by a wild eyed Vanessa who barreled into him, squeezing his waist tightly before stepping back to berate him for all the worry he had caused her.

Joe smiled at the memory of Van flipping from indignation to concern as she had taken stock of her boyfriend's injuries and realised there was a good reason for him being so late..although Joe had sheepishly apologised for not at least letting her know he was ok as he genuinely hadn't noticed it was almost eleven o clock in the evening by the time he'd finally gotten home.

"Oh Van," he said to himself. Slowly raising his arms into the air for a stretch he winced at the dull aches and pains littering his body. Heaving himself out of bed, he limped over to their bathroom to take stock of his face. Groaning when he saw that Frank had predicted right and that a sizeable bruise covered the right side of his face around the bandaged cut, he poked at it gently, hissing as a sharp pain shot across his cheek.

"I'll live," he thought to himself as he turned on the tap in preparation of brushing his teeth. Thinking again of Vanessa's adorable concern, he paused mid brush staring at himself in the mirror in almost comical shock before throwing the tooth brush down and pelting it out the bathroom, aches and pains momentarily forgotten.

Dialing the number he knew by heart, his chest thudded loudly as he waited for Vanessa to pick up the phone.

"Joe?" At Vanessa's voice, all the air seemed to leave Joe's body at once as the worry melted away.

"Babe," he whispered in relief.

"Joe..what's wrong?" Vanessa asked in a confused tone.

He couldn't believe it had taken him this long. He berated himself in his mind for not making the connection sooner. A hint of guilt shooting through him as he realised he'd almost focused more attention on Iola's memory than on Vanessa's living, breathing self...almost.

"Van," he began "is there any chance you could go and stay with your mother for a little while?"

Andrea Bender had moved a few towns over when her animation business had taken off and she'd needed bigger premises for the extra staff she'd had to employ.

"Errm..what? Why?" Vanessa asked, confusion still in her voice.

"Remember I told you about the girl, the..one who had been murdered?" As Joe asked, memories of blonde hair and the faces of the two victims flashed through his memory. "Well there was a second murder yesterday."

"Yeah I saw in the paper," Vanessa said quietly. Thinking of the poor girls and their families. "What does that have to do with me going to see mom? You're not being your usual over protective self again are you Hardy? Because you know as well as I do that we discu..."

"No you don't understand," Joe said interrupting her mid flow. "They were..they were both blonde. And pretty. Blonde and pretty and young and..."

Silence on the other end of the phone gave Joe's cheeks a moment to blush red as his mind replayed his words and he realised they made him sound ever so slightly over protective...and a little over cautious. He opened his mouth to explain himself better when Vanessa's voice broke out of the phone again.

"Oh Joe," she sighed. Vanessa understood, even with Joe's babbling she knew what it was he wanted to say. Knew instantly how his newest case would be affecting him without him having to explain in great detail. Knew he wouldn't be able to take the loss of another person who he loved without it breaking him apart irreparably. It was one of the reasons Joe loved her so completely.

"It..would just have to be for a few days," he said around the lump which had grown suddenly in his throat. Swallowing the emotion he continued "I just can't think of you getting hurt Van."

"I understand Joe but..." Vanessa began.

"...Please."

In that one word, Vanessa felt Joe's pain like a shock through her system. Her eyes welled a little at the raw sadness which radiated in his voice.

"Ok Joe, ok," she said "I'm owed a few days at work so it should be fine. I can get out of town for a little while. I'm giving you three days tops though...I can't put up with thinking about you alone and in danger for any longer than that...and you will call me. Every. Single. Day." She added, punctuating her words with pauses.

Relief flooded through Joe at her words. He knew he was being a little hyper careful but he also knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on catching the killer if she was around, now the thought of Vanessa being in danger was lodged in his mind. No, he needed her as far away as he could get her.

"Thank you," he said simply. They talked for a little while longer before hanging up. Joe threw himself back on the couch, suddenly feeling emotionally drained and more than a little sleepy. He probably would have snoozed a little where he lay but a gurgling noise finally registered in the back of his mind.

"Shoot," he said, jumping up and trotting, albeit a bit more carefully on his injured leg, back to the bathroom where he had left the water running.


Frank huffed a little from his position on the bed as the phone continued ringing. He'd ignored it once already, but this time round it pealed incessantly. Sticking out his tongue, he carefully ran it over his bottom lip, cringing a little at the sting he felt and the blood he tasted. Finally, sighing again, he rolled over grabbing the offending object.

"What?" he snapped a little more harshly then he meant to.

"Well that's a lovely way to greet your co-super hero," Joe said with mock sadness in his voice.

Frank sighed a little before saying, not a little sarcastically "sorry there sidekick. I was busy being asleep. Remember how we agreed we'd earned a morning off for our heroics. I planned on spending mine being entirely unconscious."

"Sidekick!" Joe spluttered, the indignation in his voice causing a burst of laughter from Frank "when the hell did we decide I was going to be the sidekick."

"The youngest always gets to be the sidekick, it's the unwritten rule of comics," Frank chuckled at the self righteous gasp from the other end of the phone. "Now not that I'm incredibly happy to hear from my baby brother on my self instigated morning off but was there anything in particular that you needed?"

Joe grumbled to himself for a moment before asking "I just wanted to know if you'd heard anything from Con?"

The previous days events popped into Franks mind as he unwillingly remembered the death toll hanging over the current case.

"Not yet Joe, I was planning on ringing him as soon as I was up."

"Well..now you're up. So ring me back once you're done." And with that, Joe was gone, probably off on a quest for a late breakfast.

Shaking his head in amused bemusement, Frank consulted his cell phone for Con Riley's number.

"Hey Con," he said when the officer answered "tell me you have some developments."

"As a matter of fact Frank," Con replied, the closest to happy Frank had heard him in days "we do! Remember how you found out that Rachel was on her way home from a support group...well you'll never guess what Nicola was doing on the night of her death."

"No.." Frank said as the realisation of what this implied sunk in "So there is a connection after all!"

"Well, yes and no," Con replied "they were both at support groups. But it wasn't the same one."

"But that still means the killer could be targeting groups in the area right?" Frank said, unable to stop the excitement of a lead flowing through him.

"Looks that way...it's where we're going to be heading next anyways."

"But.." Frank said, a frown on his face as he thought it through "but you can't go sending police into support groups though right? I mean...that will alert the killer that you're onto him."

We'll cross that bridge when we come to it Frank, there's one other thing first," Con said, the excitement returning to his voice. "We picked up a print off of Nicola's locket!"

Frank's mouth dropped a little at this announcement.

"It's been sent to the lab now," Con continued, feeling Frank's enthusiasm almost through the line "rush job, fingers crossed the bastard is in the system."

"Con...wow...what a break!" Frank said, puffing out his cheeks and blowing out the air in a low whistle. "Keep me posted!"

"Will do Frank."

With a click the phone went dead the other end. Listening to the dial tone for a moment, Frank thought about the implications of what that fingerprint could mean before dialing his brother's number.

Without waiting for Joe to speak he said "I think we got him."


Huzzah for chapter four. I'm a couple of chapters ahead of myself now. I had been writing about one a day because this story entirely happened when one mental image popped into my head as I was at work, and that was a 'scene' from the ending. Just one picture. I had a grasp of little bits of plot but never planned the whole thing before I started writing it blind.

Then I had a productive break time at work on the weekend and managed to cement the whole story in easy to read bullet points, and last night as I sat down to crack on the next two chapters just sort of fell out of my hands. It's taking all my self control to not just post them both tonight!

I won't though, I mean, where's the fun in fics if there's no time between cliffhangers?

Sarah