AN: Thanks to all of you for waiting! It means so much to me. I hope you will like the next Chapter. You know I am looking forward for the next few chapters. I'll ab-solut-ely try to update every Chapter as soon as possible. You know I won't stop until you want me to and I love writing this.

Have a nice day and pls don't forget your reviews.

-Sun

Chapter 14

6 o'clock. I was on my feet for almost 13 hours now. It feels like an eternity. But I am still going on. Now more then ever.

My life is far from ordinary.

I know that.

It always has been like that.

I know what I was going to do when I was 6 years old after my mother was nearly killed by a thieve and my plans never changed.

I was like a mother for my little sister because dad wasn't able to be a father for his little girls. But I should I accept when he wasn't able to cope with his own life? After he knew about the affairs my mom had he lost himself, and we lost him too. She slept with a lot of men to forget the things that happened to her in our house when my dad spent time with friends instead of staying with her. Maybe that's the reason why she did it; to hurt him, after she got hurt. Maybe she thought it was his fault.

Or she thought she would be able to forget her fear and her normal life by sleeping with completely strangers.

I don't know.

I don't know her at all.

But the craziest thing is, they are still together, too scarred what people would say.

In the eyes of our neighbourhood we were the perfect family. We are still the perfect family.

In my eyes we are broken.

Separated.

The reason I took Ruby with me is that I love her.

I love her to much to let her stay there.

When I was a young girl visiting high school in the younger grades school was a waste of time in my opinion.

After I said that out loud I had to see the head master. All he wanted was my mouth shut. And afterwards I shut it.

I keep my mouth shut, ignored my thoughts, keep going on, doing what they wanted me to do, what everyone excepted from me, but my opinion never changed.

I was happy when I finished school, able to follow my plans and so I became a cop.

And then everything has changed so quickly, not redgrogadely.

Pictures are stuck deep down in my head. Awfully Pictures.

Murder.

In the city. In the village. In the nature.

Everywhere.

Mothers. Brothers. Fathers. Friends. Lovers.

Everyone.

Victims.

Women. Men. Children. Adults. Teachers. Housewives. Workers. Unemployed.

No limits.

Conflictions.

In School. At home. At Work.

Profound and almost insolvable Problems.

Drugs.

Poor. Richs.

In every social class.

Hate.

I have seen so many forms of it.

Anger.

I know how it feels.

I know how it looks like.

Bullying.

Under sisters. Friends. Colleagues.

Hard to control.

Injustice.

Murders are getting out of jail because there isn't enough evidence; even you know they did it.

A man getting only 4 years for raping a little girl.

It's hard to erase. It'll be there. Always.

Blood.

I know how it looks like. I know the smell. And the worse thing is… you get to know how it tastes. It tastes like a hand full of old bronze coins in your mouth.

Every Day. Every Week. Every Month and every year. My whole life. And it's hard to cope with that. You have to be able do something like that. If you are not able, you are lost:: Goodbye! Or should I say: Badbye?!

A long time I was sleeping with different guys, a lot of guys, I met at the disco or in pubs to forget about what I have seen at work. If you are doing such a job, you need something to forget. And this was my way to be someone else. But it wasn't satisfying.

Then I learned how to survive and I knew with rules and regularities I would be able to make it through the days. And yes, I get it all done.

I was good at my job and in a way I needed it.

I can't say I am loving it, it's too ugly, too rude and too hard. But after I have done it, after I helped people, after I kicked the ass of some criminals getting them into jail there is a satisfaction.

Satisfaction. My mind is wandering to this simple word.

Satisfaction…

In my job.

A short moment of satisfaction, the satisfaction of forgetting, when I was sleeping with a stranger.

But it's not what I wanted.

It's not what I needed.

Life-, Love-, -Satisfaction is something my heart screamed for and something I found on simple one day. I lost again in one night.

I was felling so quickly and so madly in love. My love rising unlimited, intentionally. I felt like going crazy when my heart felt like bursting. I wasn't able to cope with this sort of feelings after years living with a cold heart, wearing under my black jacket.

But then, suddenly it heated up quickly, getting warmer each day with her around me. And now it's getting freezing cold again, because of one reason: She isn't here to keep my heart warm. Save it before freezing to death.

She is more then a girl I met once at the madhouse.

She is more then a victim to me. She is more then a file.

More then someone I had mercy with.

She is more then someone I spent a night with to forget my work.

She is the reason I was able to feel again, to be proud of my feelings.

She is the blood floating through my veins.

And I am sitting here waiting for Agent Spade and Conroy to get me to the hypnotic after they got their file from Sydney.

I am sitting here going through Joeys hospital files , hoping to find something and when I am looking at the pictures they made from her once it's like I am looking straight into the eyes of someone else.

Her eyes were so different when she was looking at me and I am scared of what will happen to them now.

Will they be empty, desperate and hurt like back then?

I am scared, so scared, but I can't cry. My eyes are dry like my mouth and I know I need to concentrate, because tears won't help.

But my head hurts and a red pain is pulling up my legs, hurting, and the colour is changing.

I know something bad had been happening when they were entering my office two hours later with a file in their hand and something else in their hands.

I don't wait, nor I waste time with unnecessary and nonsense empty phrases, neither they want to.

"What is this?" I am asking unhesitatingly, feeling my stomach starting to rebel.

I am going insane because of the weight on my shoulders, the scare, the pain, the thoughts of might loose her and my body isn't helping.

My head is hurting, my body is outworn, and my feet don't want to carry me any longer.

I am weak.

My body is weak. My thoughts are.

And I know there won't be any good news for me.

"We've gotten something down In Sydney." They don't need to tell me from whom. There is only one solution.

"But it's for you." She is handing me a small brown envelop with my Name printed on it. It's waiting for me to open it, knowing what I will find.

But I am opening it to make sure. As a cop there is no jump to conclusions.

With shaking fingers I am opening the envelope on the backside, letting them glide into to feel the smooth surface.

Pictures.

"And you know what he did? How we find out he killed another girl? He sent us pictures of the dead victim and gave us tips where to search. He played with us every time."

No. No. No.

It can't be. No, that can't be the truth.

It has to be a dream. A nightmare.

That's what I am telling myself the whole time, just to realize it's really true. I won't wake up, dreaming, sweating, crying, terrified, but with Joey in my arms. It's real… It's real…

It's…

It's enough to look at one of the pictures to make me wanna throw up. And that's what I am doing, letting the photographs touching the ground while I am leaving my office as fast as possible.

Early enough I am at the girls' bathroom in front of the loo throwing up.

Once. I am feeling so sick.

Twice. My mouth is feeling strange.

A third time.

Swallowing lips. Effusions of blood in the face.

Blood. Blood everywhere.

It's enough to forget my hard cop image.

Instead I am doing something only people are doing who love and who are afraid.

And I love. And I am afraid.

I am sinking on my knees, grabbing a hold onto the loo, throwing up again. A last time, sobbing and crying, shaking uncontrollable, almost screaming.

A pink pain is crawling up my back, its fingers pulling itself nearer, grapping my head. Strong fingers, pulling every inch of my face.

It's blinking like a neon sign, painfully, right behind my eyeball causing more pain.

I don't want to be able to see, if it means I will never be able to forget these pictures.

I don't want to be able to see when I am not able to see her again.

And I am crying.

It's all I can do now.

When my head was full of sorrow and I was still sitting beneath the loo, waiting for my qualm to rise again, I thought about giving in. Yes, I am ashamed of myself, but people are having a disposition to giving up, instead of fighting when life is hard. And I am like that now. I stopped being a robot, now starting being a human, after Joey rushed into my life.

The same time I am thinking about how happy she made me so fast I also have to think about the picture I have seen just a couple minutes ago. Now… again… sobbing… dying… mentally.

It's a voice, loud and strong, forcing me to breath.

"Senior Constable?" Conroy is asking, her hand touching my shoulder slightly.

"Leave me alone…" I am answering behaving like a child after a big discussion with the parents hiding in the room.

I wanted to be untroubled.

Mad at everyone. But mostly mad at myself for letting Brett take her, for giving in, for just thinking about giving up, for crying instead of searching.

But I am damaged and I've paid enough, and now I want to let anyone else pay for my pain and Conroy is the only one there.

But she is very resistance.

"No, I won't. We need you out there, S.C. Buckton. You are the only one really knowing her. Nothing is done. It's not the end, but it might be if we don't give our best."

"Haven't you seen the pictures? Haven't you seen what he has done to her?" I am yelling at her, feeling sorry at the same time I did. Surely she has seen it, she isn't stupid. She knows what it means. Yes, she knows what's going on. She has seen this so many times.

But now I am not a cop or a colleague. I am a dependant.

"Have you seen her wounds? Her eyes?" I am saying now calmer, but still terrified. "He damaged her once again. He beat the shit out of her and I am sure he won't stop until she her dead body is laying in front of him! And what are we doing? Nothing! Tomorrow night everything will be over and we won't be able to find her!" As soon as I said this, my right cheek is hurting intentionally, feeling hot like 100 needles are stuck in my rosy flesh.

She slapped me, once, but with an indescribably strength. She really needed to get me back to reality, away from the entire self – pity, back to my fighting – mode.

Her eyes are saying sorry, her mouth is telling different things. She knows it was necessary and I know it too.

"Calm down! She isn't dead, he just wants so bother us, like he did in the past. But this time it's so much more. He knows we know the truth. Maybe he knows what you know about him. Because of this he sent the pictures to you. But this isn't the way it's going and this will first end if you are giving up. You won't get her back with lying down and crying. We need to see the hypnotic to bring your lost memories back and that might save the girl."

I know she is right. A crying self – pity cop won't help Joey. I need to put myself together to save her. But a few tears are falling, I can't do anything then feeling sorry, ashamed o myself and broken.

Conroy is calming down, her voice is soft und she is looking down at me while I am looking away. I can't believe I needed someone else to wrap me up. It's a shame. But I know this will stay a secret.

I first look at her again as I am hearing her question. Even it was more a statement.

"You are in love with the girl, aren't you?" She is saying her eyes full of mercy and insight.

"How?"

"A blind would be able to see. He would feel the love you are feeling for her, it's surrounding you. Wherever you go."

I am looking away again. How much I wish Joey would be able to feel my love for her. Someday. Very soon, she will, I am telling myself and I am almost smiling at the thought of her smile, holding her again, kissing her, watching her, comforting her.

"We will find her. We will bring your girlfriend back."

Butterflies are rising, a strange feeling now, a beautiful feeling in general. A beautiful strange feeling magnifying in my stomach.

My girlfriend.

Almost I corrected her. Joey isn't my girlfriend. Yet.

But I want her to be. I want her to call her mine. I want to be a part of her. I want her to be a part of me.

It's strange to think to think about someone like I do about Joey, when I know her just a few days under these circumstances. But sometimes you just know if something feels right. And then there is something else you realize it just feels perfect.

It felt perfect, I am correcting myself desperately.

It will feel perfect again, the optimistic in me is responding.

"Come on, We are going to save your girlfriend now." The first time I see her smile and it remind me ho my mother once smiled at me when I was a young girl when I was down.

Insightfully, loving, arrogating and calming.

The first time after Joey I really feel rescued, knowing what to do next.

"Saving my girl." I am replying, drying my tears, grabbing her hand to find a hold to stand up.

I am taking a step,

And another step forward,

Following the big and ugly werewolf.