Disclaimer: I own nothing, except maybe a broken heart for all my McCollins fans out there after the season finale...

I sincerely apologize for the delay in posting this. I just haven't been feeling the writing vibe lately. HOWEVER, this chapter is extra long for everyone to enjoy...at least, if you're anything like me, you will!

***WARNING- Aaron strikes again in this chapter. If you don't want to read the implication of rape, please skip over that section. ***

[Chapter 11]

The next few hours after the shocking news had been delivered to Andy were quiet. Sergeant Best had allowed Andy the rest of the day off after they told him their findings. He recognized the magnitude of the news, and the impact it would have on the rest of her life; his coppers would manage without her for one day. Andy had agreed that it was smart to announce her connection to the Slasher in morning parade the next day, too, but she definitely was not looking forward to it. She knew all eyes would be on her, scrutinizing, judging, and most of all, pitying her.

Sam was told to drive Andy home before Sam returned to work—it had been a direct order from Best that Sam had been glad to carry out.

The ride home had been a silent one. Sam knew Andy's brain was working overtime with this revelation, and he didn't want to push her just yet. She needed time to process everything that was implied with the news.

When Sam pulled up to Andy's condo building, he cut the engine and turned towards his girlfriend, leaning slightly.

"You want me to come up with you? I can't stay too long, but—"

"I don't want anyone else dying because of me, Sam," Andy said quickly.

Sam inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and mentally preparing himself for what was going to be a heavy conversation. Of course Andy had come to the self-depricating conclusion that she was the cause of all the murders. Sam wasn't surprised considering how compassionate and humble Andy was under normal circumstances.

"Andy, this is not your fault. What Lyddle is doing is all on him. People leave their lovers all the time. That's no excuse to start butchering innocent women." Seeing the disbelieving look in Andy's sad eyes, he shifted closer to her in the cabin of the truck and reached for her hands, holding them securely in his. "Sweetheart, you are not to blame for your half-brother's killing spree. You hear me? This is all his fault. You have nothing to do with all those women's deaths."

Andy closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the headrest behind her, exhaling a long breath of frustration. A stream of tears trailed down her cheeks, which broke Sam's heart. He cupped her cheek and brushed one of the streams of tears away with the pad of his thumb gently. After a few silent moments of contemplation, Andy breathed deeply and opened her eyes, staring intently at Sam.

"I want to draw him out. If he's in Toronto because of me and his crazy vendetta against me, then I should be used as bait to lure him out."

Sam shook his head vehemently. "No way, Andy. You're not going anywhere near him on purpose."

"You can't sit there and tell me that he's just going to stop killing one of these days—that he's going to just move on. What if I can prevent more women from being killed because they have the misfortune of sort of looking like me? Shouldn't I do all I can to stop him?"

Sam leaned closer to Andy and held her face in his hands. "You will, by helping the investigation along. You are not going to be put in harm's way, Andy." Sam blew out a breath and pressed his forehead to hers. "I can't stand the thought of you being in danger unnecessarily."

Andy smirked. "That's every day, Sam. I'm a cop, remember?"

"I know, smartass," he chuckled then sobered, closing his eyes, "but if something happened to you because of your psychopath brother, I couldn't live with myself knowing I couldn't protect you."

Andy sighed and ran her hands down Sam's strong arms soothingly. "I'll be fine, Sam. We'll get him before he gets anywhere near me."

Sam refused to tell her about his suspicion that Lyddle had been watching his townhouse, so instead, he grabbed Andy around the shoulders and embraced her as best he could while seated in the truck's cabin. After a moment, Sam released Andy and kissed her deeply before exiting the truck and walking her to her condo.

Once she was safely inside her condo, he strode back to his truck, pulling out his cell as he went. He dialed Sergeant Best's office and was answered in two rings.

"Boss, I need protective detail on Andy, but I know she won't accept it."

Sam heard Frank sigh over the phone. "I was thinking the same thing. She's too proud."

"Can we put an officer on her at a distance until we get Lyddle?"

"Well, how about you?"

"Me?" Sam was confused.

"Yeah, Sam. Who better to protect her than someone who has a vested interest in her safety?"

"So, what, we'll be partnered together…"

"Unless you have an objection to that?" Frank countered.

"No, Frank. Sounds good."

"Good. Until further notice, you two are partnered together. Let's catch this sonofabitch."

Andy locked the door securely behind Sam as he went off to start his shift, and went into the kitchen for a glass of Sunny D. She poured the glass of juice, her mind a complete blank. It had been blank and thoughtless since she had set foot in her condo. She was forcing her mind to stop racing a mile a minute, and for once it was actually working.

That is, until Tommy stirred in the spare bedroom a few feet away from her.

"Andy? That you, kiddo?"

Instantly, she had a million more thoughts and questions flooding her mind, all of them directed at Tommy.

"Yeah, it's me, Dad."

Some shuffling was heard before Tommy came out of the room slowly. His broken leg was nearly healed, but he still used a crutch to get around the condo.

"I thought you were on shift today," Tommy commented as he took a seat on the couch and reached for the remote control. As he sat, he glanced at his daughter briefly.

Before he could press the button to turn the television on, Andy said, "Did you ever suspect Mom had been with someone else before you?" Her words stopped him dead in his tracks. Tommy sighed.

"I knew, yeah. She told me about him the night she told me she was pregnant with you." He silently wondered what had brought this line of questioning on, but knew almost immediately why.

"Detective Barber got the results back, huh?" he asked, dreading the answer.

Andy reached the couch and sank down beside him, letting out a breath. "Yup. I have a half-brother who is out there murdering innocent women who look like Mom and me. Fun morning I've had."

Tommy shook his head sadly. "I'm so sorry, honey." Wrapping an arm around his daughter, he pulled her close enough for her to lean her head on his shoulder. While it was comforting for Andy, it was strange because rarely had she ever found herself leaning on her father when times were tough.

They were silent for a few moments, enjoying their closeness before Andy spoke. "His name is Aaron Lyddle. He would have been about six or so when I was born."

"Do they have a picture of him?"

"Yeah, they're releasing the photo tomorrow morning after the department is briefed."

"Do you know if the media is going to be mentioning your connection to him?" Tommy asked, worried about what damage that knowledge might do in the wrong hands.

"Sergeant Best assured me that it's not necessary to drag our family history or our relation to Aaron into it. They will mention that the victims all had similar characteristics, so that women who have the misfortune of looking like me will watch out."

Tommy scoffed and hugged his daughter a bit tighter. "I know that tone. You better not be blaming yourself for this monster's actions. It's not your fault."

She breathed out loudly. "Sam said the same thing, and logically, I know that, but it's hard to tell yourself that you aren't to blame for nine deaths when the reason they were killed was because they look like you. Well, I guess I should say that they look like Mom, not me."

"You look so much like your mother, Andy. It's partially the reason I was absent so often when you were growing up. Looking at you reminded me of what I lost when she left us. Looking back on it, I realize that it's a shitty reason, but it's mine, and I will never be able to apologize enough for it. I missed out on so much and made you grow up so quickly because of my own stupidity and childishness."

Andy stewed on that for a moment before nodding slowly. "Being here is a good start, Dad. Thanks."

The two sat like that, Tommy with his arm around his daughter and Andy resting her head on his shoulder, for well over five minutes, in comfortable silence. When the silence was broken—by Andy, of course—she found that there were tears in her eyes.

"I always wanted a sibling. Not like this, though."

Tommy frowned. "I know, honey. I wish I had known he was out there. Maybe we could have done something to prevent all of this from happening. You could have grown up together, been friends."

"Things don't always work out for the best, Dad. Would you have forgiven Mom if she had told you that she had a kid somewhere out there?"

Tommy was pensive for a second before responding without reservation. "Yes, absolutely. I loved your mother unconditionally. I would have done just about anything for her, even help to raise another man's child if she had let me know about his existence."

It was in that moment that Andy realized just how in love her father had been with her mother, and how much her departure, however it had happened, had affected him. He had never been an overly affectionate parent, nor was he very verbose, but he loved intensely and quickly—much like Andy did.

"I love you, Dad."

Slightly surprised at Andy's response, Tommy stumbled before replying quietly, "I love you, too, Andy. I'm sorry you're going through this, kid, but I know you'll come out on top. Us McNallys may get knocked down, but we get back up again."

Andy couldn't help the chortle that escaped her lips. "Chumbawumba, Dad? Really?"

Tommy laughed, but only because Andy had just laughed. "What's a Chumbawumba?"

That night, chilly and breezy as winter nights tended to be, found Aaron roaming the streets in search of someone to take his rage out on. Since he had killed the dollar store owner a few nights prior, he had been holed up in his apartment. Despite the rush and relief he had felt during the act, he now felt a kind of remorse for killing the man—he had had nothing to do with his vendetta against his half-sister for fucking up his life. He didn't resemble her or her whore of a mother in the slightest, yet Aaron had needed to kill someone, anyone, and there he had been. A crime of opportunity, but not one that he was particularly proud of.

As those feelings of remorse crept into his thoughts, he began feeling uneasy about being out on the streets; as if somehow everyone knew he had murdered a man in cold blood. It had never bothered him before, but then again, he had never killed a man before.

That evening, as he finally stepped out of his apartment for the first time in days, he pulled his collar up over his cheeks to shield him from the bitter cold and breathed a sigh of relief. He knew his previous thoughts were ludicrous; no one knew who he was or what his mission in Toronto was. He was simply a man walking down the street with no ill-intention. The blast of winter air on his face was a cleansing agent to his emotions – he once again felt free to carry out his plans.

And he had many of those.

Especially for Andy.

He knew he wanted to carry out a few more kills and revel in the sensation of his blade slicing through a major artery a few more times before it was used one last time on his half-sister and he moved onto a new city.

Even though he had followed Sam Swarek around for a whole day and had originally wanted to take him out first to make Andy suffer, he had recently decided against it. Knowing what he had learned about the police officer, he had a strong feeling that had he pursued him any longer, Sam would eventually have figured out that he was being watched and would have tightened his hold on Andy in the process of protecting himself.

The two were almost inseparable. Where Sam would go, Andy was usually close behind, and vice versa, unless they were on the job. He had noticed that their partnerings were never the same two days in a row and that they weren't always paired together. Aaron knew that if he wanted any shot at Andy alone, he'd have to get her while she was paired with another officer. All he needed was a few more days and he'd have everything in place to make that happen, and lure Andy away from her partner.

But first, he'd need to kill again. The burning need hadn't fully subsided since he'd killed the Chinese store owner, but he decided that he'd be more selective when choosing his next victim than the last one.

After having walked on Adelaide for an hour and not spotting anyone who may have fit the description he was looking for, he decided to turn around and walk back down the street towards Spadina. Wrapped in his thoughts, he didn't notice the brunette barrelling toward him in a rush. His shoulder bumped hers, making her spill the Second Cup coffee she had in her hand. As the coffee tumbled to the ground, Aaron let his eyes lock onto the clearly embarrassed woman before him. She is perfect.

"I'm so sorry," The girl muttered as she searched her oversized purse for something to clean the coffee with; some of her beverage had dripped onto Aaron's jacket as it had plummetted to the ground. The girl was roughly 5'5", petite and pretty. Luck was on his side tonight: the icing on the cake was that she wore her hair up in a ponytail.

She was obviously flustered and late for some appointment, despite the hour of night. "I'm really late. Should have been home a half hour ago. My dad's gonna kill me! I'm really sorry about this mess! I'll pay for the dry cleaning-"

Aaron chose that moment to turn on his "charm". He raised his hand and smiled politely.

"It's not necessary. This is an old jacket anyway. But let me walk you home," he suggested, motioning towards the direction she was originally headed. She seemed to think about it momentarily before nodding and smiling in a relieved way.

"Sure, I'm over by York Street," she replied, starting to walk beside Aaron towards her home. "Thanks for being so understanding. I'm such a clutz."

Aaron chuckled quietly. "It's a happy coincidence that such a pretty girl ran into me."

As the young woman smiled demurely, Aaron couldn't help the grin that grew in response to her reaction to him. The direction in which they were walking led to a darker street with an even darker alley Aaron knew well enough to know that it would be the best place to end this girl's life. A person who believed in all of that serendipity-destiny-fate bullshit would have called it just that. But Aaron knew that in this life, people made their own luck and destiny. Perhaps he could even carry out the rest of his ritual that he'd been forced to forego with his last few kills…

"So, what's your name?" the girl asked, turning her head towards Aaron as they walked.

Aaron hesitated briefly—this girl would be dead in an hour, so telling her his real name wouldn't harm him. He smiled, replying, "Aaron. You?"

"Cynthia." She returned his smile.

"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl," Aaron said, feeling the bile rise up in his throat at the empty compliment. Sure, she was pretty, but he was never one to pay women compliments, let alone one who reminded him of his whore mother, which made her unworthy to even be smiled at in his dark, twisted mind. When he saw the blush creep up over her cheeks, he felt a sense of relief, knowing that his fake compliment had paid off and he had her just where he wanted her.

The two walked side by side towards the girl's home, Aaron's gloved hands safely tucked away in his jacket pockets while Cynthia's flew animatedly this way and that as she told a story about something that Aaron pretended to care about. After a few minutes of mindless banter, the two found themselves walking further and further away from the prying eyes of other pedestrians and passersby, which thrilled Aaron immensely; it wouldn't be long before he was on top of her, getting what he wanted from her body, as the life drained out of her by way of the deep slit in her throat.

As they approached the alley Aaron knew was coming up before them, he gently touched her shoulder to stop her from moving forward. Puzzled, she looked at him.

"Cynthia, I'm having such a nice time with you tonight. I'm so glad I met you."

He could see that the poor girl was flattered and so excited about all the possibilities he had just opened up between them with those words. It was too bad that her rose-coloured future was never going to come true.

Aaron smiled, leaning toward her as he gripped his trusty hunting blade in his pocket. "Can I hug you?" he asked shyly, to which Cynthia responded by nodding vigorously.

He slipped his hands out of his pockets, holding his knife carefully out of view, and wrapped his arms around the girl's waist in a simulated hug. Cynthia reciprocated the hug genuinely, not realizing that Aaron's knife was about to plunge into her back.

With one last deft look around to ensure there was no one around, he took a step towards the alley, pulling her with him, and took her surprise as his chance to sink his blade into her back. The scream that followed was brief—he covered her mouth with his in the guise of a lover surprising his lady. As he pulled the knife out of its human sheath, he pulled her further down the alley way and allowed her to drop to the dirty ground like a sack of potatoes. She was fading fast; he must have severed something very important. He had to move quickly if he wanted to complete his ritual.

In an instant, he was kneeling over her, using the same blade he had just used to dispatch her, to slice the hair off of her head. Once he put the hair in his pocket, he set to work to satisfy his strange need to penetrate her as she was dying. As he did, he found no struggle from her; no calls for help, no defensive swatting, and definitely no hope in her eyes.

He finished a minute later, and was lucky enough to be just in time to watch the gleam in her eyes that indicated life, fade. That was his favourite part of the kill.

He fixed himself up, zipping his fly and brushing the snow off his pants. He turned and gave one last look at the body he was leaving behind him, feeling satisfied.

Leaving the security of the dark alleyway, he shoved his hands back into his pockets and started walking briskly back towards his apartment to continue planning how he would execute his baby sister with a renewed sense of purpose.

The next morning, Sam leaned against the wall at the back of the parade room, knowing full well what was coming. This morning, Sergeant Best was going to tell the officers that Andy and Aaron Lyddle were related by blood, and he knew that there would be a lot of pity glances and uncomfortable questions for Andy to answer after the fact. He just hoped she had mentally prepared herself for what was to come. He would be there for her the entire day, seeing as how they were now partnered together until further notice, but he could only comfort Andy so much while on duty…

Andy was sitting at her usual seat in the parade room, beside Gail, concentrating on her breathing and trying to remember that her colleagues needed to know what Frank was about to tell them. She had to put it out of her mind that this was personal information; once he had started to put the general public in danger while exacting his revenge, finding out everything they could about him was a top priority. So what if Frank was about to air some of Andy's family's dirty laundry? Who cared if this information was about to make all her colleagues question her ability to concentrate on the job? What did it matter if the meer existence of a long-lost half-brother insinuated that her mother was a tramp? This is a matter of public safety, Andy reminded herself. She knew everything she was thinking was true, but it was difficult to swallow, even coming from she herself.

Sam was brought out of his thoughts by Sergeant Best striding towards the podium at the front of the room carrying a file folder in his hands. Detective Barber followed closely behind him, carrying his own file folder and looking slightly anxious. Sergeant Best rested his file on the podium and peered out towards his officers.

"Morning, everyone. We only have one piece of business today, and that relates to the Yonge Street Slasher." Frank began his sentence strong, but it was obvious to every officer in parade that morning that he was nervous to continue his thought. He glanced at Andy and looked back up at his coppers, clearing his throat. "We have confirmed through DNA evidence that this man," he paused to put the only known photo of Aaron Lyddle on the board, "Aaron Lyddle, is the Yonge Street Slasher."

The room began to buzz quietly as the officers whispered to themselves. Sergeant Best cleared his throat, willing the room to stop chattering while he related the rest of the information.

Gerry stepped forward and began reading off a list of Aaron's physical attributes. "He's 36, white, about 5'9. He was born in Kingston. He hasn't had a job in over seven years. No credit cards, no up-to-date driver's license, picture health card, nothing. His last known address puts him in Kingston well over ten years ago. This is the last known photo we have on file for him from his now-expired driver's license."

Frank stopped to prepare himself to deliver the most shocking of the information to his officers.

"His father died of pancreatic cancer back in '94."

"Any other family?" one of the officers called out.

Gerry was about to answer that when Frank stepped in.

"Yes. We have confirmed that he is Officer McNally's half-brother. We suspect that he is responsible for the death of his and Officer McNally's mother, Carol." Frank looked at Andy, who had somehow managed to remain stoic as he had spoken.

Andy could feel all eyes suddenly focusing directly at her. Instead of meeting any of their gazes, she looked right at Frank and Gerry at the front of the room. She sat in her chair looking incredibly tense and emotionless. Gerry decided to continue to take back the attention.

"We also believe that he is targeting young women who bear some resemblance to his mother and Officer McNally." He pulled a large photo of Carol McNally's smiling face and stuck it beside Aaron's photo for comparison. In it, she looked to be about thirty-five. It was a photo that Andy knew well—Andy had clutched it tightly in her hand every night for three years after her mother 'left'. When it had become obvious that she was never coming back, she had tucked the photo away in her copy of Great Expectations by Charles Dickens and had pushed the book, and with it all thoughts of her mother, to the back of her mind. Recently, she had remembered the location of the photo and had decided to add it to her grave marker. The original had remained in her wallet ever since.

While the similarities between Aaron and his mother were noticeable, what was most striking was how much Andy looked like her mother. It was obvious that every single officer in the room was thinking that exact same thing, comparing Andy's face with the victim's photo staring back at them on the board before them.

"We have released Lyddle's picture to the media this morning and it'll be all over the news in a few hours. We don't know where he's residing, or how he's getting around, but we know that of his nine victims, seven were killed within a five kilometre radius from Yonge and Dundas."

"We need everyone to be cautious and vigilant. Now that we know what this bastard looks like, it's time to find him and bring him in. So, serve, protect, and let's get this murderer off our streets. Dismissed."

As the officers rose from their chairs, Andy's close friends filtered through the crowd toward her. Tracy was the first to reach Andy and hug her close. Chris and Dov patted her on the back silently—they had no idea what sort of sentiment they should convey. Sorry you have a murderous bastard for a half-brother just didn't seem to work in this situation. Gail frowned and touched Andy's arm briefly in her own form of compassion. Sam was right behind the group, ready to jump in and grab his partner if the questions got too intense, but luckily the friends and colleagues had all appreciated the sensitivity of the situation and hadn't pushed or said more than a few words of understanding.

"Alright, McNally, let's go," Sam called. Andy nodded and told Tracy she'd call her after their shifts.

Once in the squad car, Sam looked over to his girlfriend with slight concern. "You ok, McNally?"

She took a deep breath and let it out, turning to look Sam right in the eye. Sam read her look as one of determination. It was the version of Andy who had tackled him while he was undercover, the eager rookie full of resolve who would stop at nothing to get the collar. It was the Andy that had first caught his attention and had turned his world upside down, the one he had first fallen in love with before he realized that all facets of this woman were amazing.

"I won't be until we have my brother in the back of our squad. That, or in a body bag at the morgue."

He smirked, turned the squad car on, and began driving the two of them towards their first call of the day, confident that, given enough time, Andy would survive this crisis.

She just had to.