Well, here's the second update for today. (: & YES, I know this one is CRAZY long. But I honestly could not stop writing. xD I hope you enjoy it, & please leave a review! Thank you so much for the reviews so far; I love reading them. I reply to everyone privately. (:


Chapter Seven - Breakdown

Mal drove, and Natara left a message for Oscar, letting him know what came up. "Hey, I'm really sorry, but something just came up at work; it's really important. Don't bother with the coffee, just drive to my place and let yourself in. I'll see you when I get home." She hesitated a moment before adding, "I love you, bye."

Mal glanced over but didn't comment, pulling into the Wilson's drive way. They got out of the car to see all three Wilsons sitting on their front porch.

"Thank God you're here," Mrs, Wilson said, relief flooding her voice as she led them inside. They sat on the opposite couch. "You need to see this,"

Taylor handed Natara a piece of paper. The paper was printed from a computer, and the ink was smeared a bit.

Looks like I missed one, the paper read. Don't worry, I'll be back.

Natara shivered slightly and looked at Taylor. "This doesn't look good," she muttered, more to herself than Taylor. "Where did you find this?"

"I... We went to the store earlier, and we were only gone a couple hours... And when we got back, this was on my bed.

"How did he even get in?"

"We have no idea," Mr. Wilson said, speaking up. "Did you happen to find any information from earlier?"

Natara relayed the evidence found, leaving out the part of her past she didn't exactly care to share at this point. "The brother of the suspect we're dealing with now... Has... Uh, had a history with me, crime-wise. So the guy has a serious grudge against me. But what I don't see, is why he targeted you."

"Is there a way he would have known you'd be assigned to this case?" inquired Mr. Wilson.

"I don't believe so, but it's something I should check into. It's definitely plausible. Do you mind if I keep this note for further investigation?"

"Of course, take it," Mrs. Wilson said, "If it will help."

Just then, a muffled clambering came from somewhere underneath them, like something had fallen. Mrs. Wilson's gaze snapped quickly to a door which Natara presumed led to downstairs.

"What was that?" Taylor asked tensely, twisting strands of her hair nervously around her finger.

"Let's find out," Mal said quietly.

It was probably nothing, but Mal and Natara drew their guns anyways as Mal slowly twisted the door handle. "If you hear any yelling," he said, turning to Mr. Wilson, "Please flip the light on down there,"

Mr. Wilson nodded and stood by the light switch panel that controlled both the kitchen and down stairs hall lights.

Mal and Natara crept silently down the stairs, listening for more noise. Another sound of something falling pierced the silence. As they crept around the corner, Mal motioned for Mr. Wilson to flip the first light on. He obeyed, and half the room was flooded with light. Natara observed with horror that the man had blonde hair. Bleach blonde.

"Ah, hell," she heard Mal mutter, almost inaudibly.

"Freeze!" Mal yelled, pointing his gun at the stunned man, "S.F.P.D., arms up!"

"Ah, hell no!" the man replied, pulling a gun of his own out, training it on Natara. "Move any farther, and your pretty little girlfriend over there is dead!" Natara scowled, pointing her gun at the guy, ready to pull the trigger if needed. Bad memories of a night much like tonight flooded her, and she pushed them back violently. Not now! she chastised herself silently, Focus!

"Gun down!" Mal warned again, "Hands up, or I'll be forced to blow your brains against that wall back there!"

While the guy was busy arguing with mall, Natara crept back into the shadows of the room that were not lit, and turned into the stairs where Taylor and Mr. and Mrs. Wilson still stood, terror written all over their faces.

"You three should get out of here," she hissed quietly, slinking along the wall. "This is dangerous." All three shook their heads.

"We're not leaving you guys down there yet," Mr. Wilson said, "Can we help at all?"

"Call the police and tell them Mal Fallon and Natara Williams need back up; quick!" Mr. Wilson rushed upstairs for the phone, and Taylor stayed clung to her mother.

"Taylor, you really need to get out of here. You could get hurt."

Taylor shook her head, refusing. Natara turned around, exasperated, and slinked around the corner, gun once again drawn. Somehow, Mal had gotten the man to lower his gun. He suddenly and swiftly kneed the man in the gut, causing him to double over and drop his gun. Mal kicked it out of the way. He pushed his gun closer, warning in his voice.

"Last chance, buddy. Hands up!" The man slowly put his hands up, but his ominous countenance did not change.

"So," he sneered at Natara, "Killing my brother wasn't enough for you? Now you want me, too?" Natara tensed, adjusting her grip on the gun. "Why don't you come over here and shoot me yourself?" he taunted. "You're too scared, aren't you? Coward."

Anger began to rise in Natara, but she fought to push it down. She stepped closer, pointing her gun.

"How the hell did you know where I was?" she demanded, shaking slightly.

"You're not the only one good with that profiling crap," he sneered. "Ever since my brother's death, I've sought you out. To avenge him, and kill you. I knew you worked around here, so I called your dumbass Captian," he laughed ominously. "Said I wanted to report some suspicious behavior... and she gave me all the contact information I'd need. I figured if I committed something big close to the area, you'd come running up here to solve it."

Mal jabbed him with the barrel of his gun. "Watch your tongue!" he yelled, fighting to control his rising anger.

"Well, go ahead. Shoot me, Natara. Kill me. I don't care. You took away my little brother; my only reason to even give a damn about anything. So go ahead. Just don't shoot your stupid boyfriend over there. Wouldn't want him nearly incapacitated like the last one, now would we? What was his name again?" he paused, mock-thinking. "Oh, right. Shawn. Shawn Mallory. Bet you haven't forgiven yourself for that one, have you?"

Natara felt angry tears threaten to fall, but she blinked and fought even harder to control her emotions. She took another step closer.

Mal jabbed him again, this time harder. "You're dangerously close to your brains being blown to bits," he growled at him, tightening his grip on the gun.

"Aww," he droned in mock sympathy, "You feel guilty? Well, you deserve it, you little useless bastard. He'll never be able to walk again, because you shot him. You shot him AND my brother."

Natara fought hard for control of her emotions, as fresh waves of guilt and pain and anger threatened to overtake her. She bit her lip to keep from crying, training her eyes hard on the guy. Mal jabbed him harder with his gun, and he let out a grunt of pain.

"In fact, why don't you shoot him, too?" he scoffed, pointing to Mal. "Have that on your conscience for a while, too. Add to the list of partners you've nearly killed!"

Just then, their back up burst in through the patio door behind noticed that the lock had been broken.

The man's eyes hardened, and he stared hard at Natara. "You know what? Go to hell, you son of a-" Mal kicked him hard in the stomach, causing him to bend over, choking.

"Shut the hell up!" Mal yelled.

One of the back-up officers quickly handcuffed him, Mirandized him, and shoved him out the door, still hurling insults at Natara.

Natara flung her gun down, and turned on her heel, scrambling up the stairs, tears burning her eyes.

"Nat!" he heard Mal protest, starting after her.

She whipped around. "Mal, just leave me alone right now. Leave me the hell alone." She turned again and ran up the stairs. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson and Taylor had already moved, allowing her easy passage. By the look on their faces, she guessed they had heard the insults, too. She quickly crossed the living room and burst out the front door.

She sank down on the bench on the porch, head in her hands, as she felt hot tears stream down her face. She couldn't hold them back any longer. She frantically tried to wipe them away, but they kept falling. Guilt, anger, and pain surged through her, all at once, like lightning striking a building. It threatened to over-power her. Everything that the man had said out loud, were all of the doubts and thoughts that constantly ran through the back of her mind. It's your fault! You deserve this! You're useless, you can't even save your own partner!The words stabbed her like knives, each one stinging.

Taylor quietly slipped out, her thin frame easily sliding through the half-open door. She walked over and gingerly sat down by Natara, resting her hand on Natara's arm.

Natara wiped tears out of her eyes, struggling to speak. "I suppose you heard all of that," she choked out. Her voice sounded horrible, like a scared child.

Taylor nodded sullenly. She softly used her fingertips to rub Natara's back, offering silent comfort. They sat like that for a few moments, before Taylor stated quietly, "It's not your fault, you know." Natara still didn't trust her voice, but she reached over and squeezed Taylor's leg, glancing up at the night sky.

"And don't listen to any of that crap that psycho said about you. I may have just met you, but I do know you're not useless; all you've ever done for me is help my family and I, and you barely even know us. Like you said to me earlier... You need to stop blaming yourself for something you had no control over." Taylor suddenly seemed to gain wisdom beyond her years. "You remind me so much of Brynne," she said, her voice faltering suddenly. "You're beautiful and smart and you'd do anything to help someone, even if they were strangers. Just like Brynne." She chokes Brynne's name out, her voice thick with emotion.

They were both crying now, embracing in a long, silent hug. When they finally pulled away, they both wiped their eyes with the back of their hands.

"You're an amazing girl, you know that?" she told Taylor, still fighting to control her voice. Taylor leaned into Natara and stared at the night sky. It felt like they'd known each other forever, yet they had only just met today.

Mal quietly slipped out soon after, and Taylor quickly excused herself to get some water.

The sight of Natara crying alarmed him momentarily; in all the years they had been partners, he had never seen her cry. Not once. I guess even the strongest people break down sometimes, he thought to himself.

Mal put his arms gently around Natara, enveloping her in a hug. He felt her lean into him and slip her arms around him, allowing a few stray sobs to escape. She pulled back, desperately wiping tears off her face.

"Are you okay?" Mal asked softly. Great question, Mal, he thought sarcastically to himself, Really, that was genius. She is very clearly not okay.

"No," she said weakly, "Not really."

He slid his arm around her and she leaned into him, feeling somehow safer.

"You know," he said after a moment, "That guy was a complete dipstick."

Natara laughed in spite of herself.

"None of what happened that night was your fault," he said, growing serious again. "And you don't deserve whatever you're feeling. Shawn has forgiven you; everyone else has. Now you need to forgive yourself."

"Thanks, Mal," she said quietly, looking up and meeting his gaze.

He looked down into her pretty, brown eyes, momentarily getting lost in them. They were beautiful, even in their swollen, red, just-got-done-crying state. Everything about her was beautiful.

Mal broke the gaze, getting up and helping her to her feet. He could not be thinking those things. Not now.

Mal lead them back inside the house, holding the door for Natara.

Taylor was curled up on the couch, fast asleep. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson were at the kitchen table, looking understandably nervous and confused. Natara could tell they had a million questions burning their minds, but the sight of her seemed to change their minds.

She glanced at a mirror that hung by the door, suddenly self-conscience. Her hair was a mess, and strands of it were matted to her face and neck, held in place by tears or sweat. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and her eye make-up was smudged under her eyes. Lovely, she thought sarcastically, pulling strands of hair off her face. That's fantastic.

"Why don't you two go home and get some rest? We have questions, but they can wait until tomorrow. Thank you," Mrs. Wilson added, "For everything."

Mal and Natara thanked them, and said they'd be in touch in the morning.

Both exhausted, they stumbled out to their cars.

"You good now?" Mal asked Natara, opening his car door.

"Yeah," she said smiling, opening her car door as well and tossing her bag to the passenger seat. "Thanks. Goodnight, Mal."

He nodded with a smile, and got into his car, starting the ignition. "Goodnight, Nat."

Natara got in her car and watched him drive off. She drove home in silence, using all her energy to stay awake.

Soon later, she arrived back at her house, desperately wanting to collapse in her bed. She saw Oscar's car parked in her driveway, and the kitchen light was on.

"Shoot," she groaned under her breath, "I completely forgot." She rubbed as much of the smeared make-up off as she could, trying to erase the image that she had been crying.

She stumbled in tiredly, and Oscar greeted her at the door. "Hey, beautiful," he said, quickly pecking her on the lips.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes and smile slightly at his greeting.

"Are you okay?" he asked, surveying Natara's appearance.

"Yeah," she lied, "Just a very, very long day." She sighed, tossing her bag carelessly to the couch. "I'm really sorry, but I am completely exhausted. I really need to sleep. And it's getting late; you should get some rest, too. You can crash on the couch."

"Okay," Oscar said squeezing her hand with a smile. She had a hunch that Oscar didn't believe her, but thankfully, he didn't press. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she smiled back, stumbling into her room. She collapsed into bed, still fully-clothed, and fell asleep within minutes.