Disclaimer- don't own, don't sue.

A/n- Okay this is where things actually start to get interesting and come together, so sorry for the long build up. Not a lot of Cindy this chapter either but I promise there will be later. I just need to establish the rest of the plot first.

Chapter 10

He stared down at the sheet, the article, for once he seemed completely unaware of her presence, Cindy's head gave another throb as his lips parted and he began to whisper the words on the page.

"'Bullies, thugs, monsters in backwards caps, call them whatever you call them, but they are the catalysts for this horrible act, they start the chain of events, they are the spark to the fuse, they light the fire under the victims and allow them to steadily blow up." He swallowed and Cindy saw tears swimming in his eyes, she felt a pang deep in her heart and another in the cut on her head.

He licked his lips and looked up at her, for the first time there was no malice in his face, his hand shaking, he held out the article to her and with ginger, traitorous hands, she took it, her, somewhat obscured by blood, vision, drinking in the ink on the page.

'Someone needs to save these people, save them from themselves and from the villains who put the gun in their hands…'

"The mayors here." Tom said with a shake of his head and a disgruntled snort.

Lindsey rolled her eyes, "We don't have to worry about him." She snarked.

Tom gave her a dry look, "Yeah cause, if he only fires me that's all right." He said sarcastically making Lindsey glare his way.

"That's not it." She said with a shake of her head, "but if he tries to get in the way, I'll be forced to make the headlines all about him in stead."

Tom raised an eyebrow in scepticism but he knew that tone and therefore knew that Lindsey wasn't exaggerating, "You just wanna leave me hanging?" he asked.

Lindsey gave a small smile, "Let's just say that Cindy was telling us all about this high class ball she snuck into one night."

Tom looked confused, he gestured with his head as a sign to go on.

"And lets just say that, at said ball, Cindy may or may not have walked in on a certain politician on top of someone elses wife."

Tom laughed loudly, letting his head fall back; circumstances as they were, Lindsey hadn't smiled properly in days so it was a surprise when she felt her teeth show.

Jill jumped when the paper bag dropped into her lap; she quickly spied her boyfriend standing over her, a cheeky smile on his lips.

"Hey," she hushed, opening the bag and smelling cinnamon, she smiled at the sight of the donuts.

"Sugar cures all." Luke smiled gently, leaning one hand on the back of her chair and the other on her desk.

Jill tilted her head back so she could get a better look at him, "Isn't it just a wonder how you passed medical school." She teased, her shoulders feeling light at the sudden lack of lead emotions weighing them down

Luke pouted, "That's my professional medical opinion."

"Well in that case." Jill grinned, standing and wrapping her arms around his neck, "I'm feeling terribly ill doctor." She kissed him. "And now its all better."

Luke smiled sadly as he saw the darkness return to her eyes, "She'll be fine Jill," he whispered.

She swallowed, avoiding his eye, "What if she's not, I don't think I could take that, and I can't figure out why." She shook her head as if she was laughing at herself.

Luke kissed her lightly on the nose, "And who says you'd be a bad mother." He joked.

"Me." Jill whispered.

"Clearly not."

"Death by exsanguination. Ouch." Bunny chirped, looking down at the corpse with a curious air.

Claire glanced at her dryly, "In a nutshell." She quipped.

"I'd hate to die like that." Bunny said with one of her rare hints at something more deep.

Claire peered at her carefully, "I've see worse." She said slapping off her gloves and tossing them into them 'biohazard bin'

"Yeah, but still." Bunny said softly, almost nostalgic, "imagine laying there, watching your life slip away, its odd to think of someone taking blood for granted, but hey," she shrugged, "there ya go."

Claire thought about it for a moment, "That won't happen to you Bunny."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because it doesn't happen to most people, it's only those unlucky few who know to much, say too much or have a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Bunny paused, flipping her head, "Well…I certainly don't know too much." She joked.

Claire laughed, smiling genuinely at the girl and ignoring completely the fact that the three traits she had just described all belonged to only one person she knew, one person she couldn't ever imagine taking life for granted.

Cindy was dizzy and she couldn't fully blame the pistol-whip and its resulting concussion.

'Suicide effects all and the people who commit such an act seldom think of this or maybe perhaps they think that it won't hurt anyone else. Because that is what themselves have been told. That nobody cares.

Suicides are tragedies, nothing more, noting less, if your unlucky enough to be one of the ones left behind you know. Because you are affected by the choices of someone else, someone you care about. And you are powerless to stop them.'

It was a small extract from the whole article but it stuck in her mind, her pounding, over worked mind, he sat across from her silently, gun hand resting in his lap. "My son killed himself." It came out as a whisper and Cindy didn't know if she was supposed to hear it.

"I found that." He gestured with the gun at the article. "in his room, it was the closest thing to any kind of explanation, most of it was ripped off, the author, the details, most of the print, all I knew was that it came from, The Register-" he looked at her and his eyes steeled again, "it came from you."

"None of you understand the power you have, do you? He read that article and decided to jump. He thought you were blaming him. As if it was his fault." His voice was rising in pitch and Cindy sat more alert in her chair, alarm bells going off in her head. "as if he wanted it to happen. As if he was as bad as them. As if he wanted to hurt people." He stood up, his eyes wild and his fists shaking in rage.

Cindy swallowed, held up her hands, she stuttered "That's not--that's not what it meant—that-that." She couldn't finish for the hatred that was now burning in his eyes seemed to have stolen her breath.

"You blame him, rather then the real reason, those little bastards who caused everything." There was a mad gleam in his eye and Cindy was afraid, "I'm not just going to teach you." His voice became eerily calm, "but I'm going to teach everyone, and teach them to see who are the real culprits here." His voice was insanely calm, "I don't care how many of you i have to kill." Cindy felt her head give another painful throb as she thought of the face in the by-line photo, the cool, calm, collected face. The face of her some-times friend. The face of Tye Silvani.

Feature-article extraordinaire.

A/n-Here's hoping that you actually remember who Tye is, cause otherwise…err, I haven't done my job very well ;)