Internal Facades

by DD Agent

Four months after the events of Black Sunday, the LAPD is left in a mess. Will is in a battle for Chief, Major Crimes and FID are now fused. However, murders at UCLA give everyone focus, especially when the traumatised and retired Flynn and Raydor return to hunt an old foe. Everyone has tried to exorcise their demons, and now they face them together once more.

20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

LA Times Online, 18th September 2010 [Early Morning]

MCD UP IN FLAMES

It seems that luck hasn't been on the LAPD's side these last few months, with the Eddie Hanson case and the trouble in the new Chief's personal life. Another blow has been struck against Chief Pope and his inner circle after the house of head of Major Crimes Brenda Leigh Johnson went up in flames.

Eye witness reports suggest a fire was started inside the house by an unknown assailant at around eleven thirty last night. Neighbours called the police and soon after Chief of Police Will Pope and suspected girlfriend Commander Sharon Raydor of Force Investigation Division descended on the scene. Eyewitnesses describe how Chief Pope ran into the house and brought out a man, supposedly Chief Johnson's partner, and then went back inside to rescue Chief Johnson. When he didn't come out, Commander Raydor went inside after him.

"It was horrible," described a neighbour of Chief Johnson who wished not to be named. "I've known Chief Johnson and her husband since they moved in. We'd heard these noises from the house, we thought they were watching a horror movie on loud. When we saw the flames, we called the emergency services."

Another neighbour, Doctor Vince Margo, 43, was on hand to administer first aid to the man Chief Pope brought out of the house. "His arm was in a cast, and the fire looked to have caused very bad tissue damage. As for the woman with Chief Pope, she looked around five months pregnant. Neighbours tried to stop her going inside the house, but she didn't listen."

Neither the LAPD nor any local hospitals in the area have confirmed the status of Deputy Chief Johnson, Chief Pope or Commander Raydor. The man who was pulled out of the house is reported to be seeking hospital treatment.

LA Times Twitter Account, 18th September 2010 [Early Morning]

LANow The man brought out of the fire at Deputy Chief Johnson's house is reported to be Captain Andrew Flynn, of UCLA Killer fame.

LANow No report as of yet whether Deputy Chief Johnson, Chief Pope or Commander Raydor are seeking hospital treatment.

LANow A body has been retrieved from Deputy Chief Johnson's home. No official identification has been made.

LA Times, 18th September 2010 [Page 1]

ANOTHER TRAGEDY FOR THE LAPD

The LAPD will add another photograph to their memorial wall today after reports of one of their own losing their life. The officer in question,

[Article Incomplete]

X

He moved through the flames like a dead man, and he was, more or less. He had been at bomb sites across the globe, had watched the handiwork of groups wanting attention, or his own government striking back. Fire didn't bother him, nor did falling pieces of ceiling and the debris from the fire.

The fire fighters were arriving; he could hear the sirens in the background. Covering his mouth with his sleeve, he used the fire extinguisher from the kitchen and attacked some of the flames on the door. The rest were too big to fight with a tiny little canister, but he could do this. Kicking in the door, he saw her lying on the floor. The room was heavy with smoke and her hands were locked behind her back with handcuffs.

She wasn't moving.

Reaching over, he gathered the blonde in his arms. She felt light, but then she had never been of particularly large frame. He saw the bedroom window to the left and kicked it open. Removing the glass, he pushed her through the window. She landed unceremoniously on the ground outside it, but a few broken bones were nothing to being burnt alive. He kicked the door shut, stopping anymore flames from coming in.

He joined her on the ground outside, and brought her onto her back, trying to help her breathe. He performed CPR, trying to get oxygen into her lungs as best he could. She stuttered after a few minutes, gasping for any air she could find. He moved behind her back and undid the handcuffs. Her wrists were rubbed raw, her head looked nasty.

Brenda opened her eyes blearily, trying to focus on whatever had happened. She looked up, her body aching, and found Wes' face. She tried to sit up, but her body wasn't having it. He tried to support her best he could, making sure she was comfortable.

"You saved me," Brenda coughed.

"Congratulations, you really are a detective," We snarled. He picked her up, supporting her shoulders so her feet dangled over the floor. He was bringing her round the back; he could see the sirens outside the house now. Many ambulances, many fire fighters.

"Why did you save me?" Brenda croaked as they moved around to the other side of the house. Wes looked behind them and steered her further forward.

"Because I don't think you killed my wife, Brenda. But I think you know who did."

"I know shit."

Wes smiled, and gripped her close to him as he dragged her out into view of the ambulances. The paramedics saw them and rushed over. He clung onto her as best as he could so she wouldn't fall down. "I need a name, Brenda. Just a name."

"No one knew who it was, Wes. No one cared; they just wanted to hurt you. You left; it was second best to them killing you. I talked them out of that." The paramedics reached them, and grabbed for Brenda. "I didn't know they'd hurt your family instead."

He watched as they took her to one of the ambulances; one with Andy Flynn driving away. She had answered his question, he now knew more of the truth but he was still lost. At least he had done his good deeds for the year.

X

The last thing she saw was Will's face. The last words he ever said to her were mouthed as the smoke over came them, some bizarre circumstantial suicide pact.

I love you.

The air had become thick with smoke, and breathing had become an issue. Tiles crashed around them, Will screaming in pain. She clung onto his hand for as long as she could, wishing that someone would come and help her move the table off of him. Just someone to give her what she needed, so for once she could have both, she could live and have her man. She didn't want to choose.

Things went black, and all she could hear were whispers of fabric, the scent of burning wood and the crash of flames gutting the house. Suddenly things changed and she could feel oxygen being dragged into her lungs.

Sharon Raydor tore open her eyes, not sure where she was. She could see the stars above the Los Angeles skyline, and she could see the flashing lights of ambulances and fire engines. She looked on the former house of Brenda Leigh Johnson and watched as the place curled in on itself like a burnt piece of paper. The hoses tried to stem the ferocity of the blaze, and it looked like it was working.

"WILL! WILL!" Sharon croaked, trying to see where he was. He wasn't next to her; he could still be in the house. The paramedics fought to get a hold of her, to look after her, but she just wanted to make sure Will was okay.

She began to break from their grip when she caught sight of two fire fighters dragging him out of the house. His face was white, his leg was at a bad angle but he was alive. He beamed when he saw her, and tried to reach for her, but was dragged to another ambulance by more paramedics.

Brenda Leigh Johnson was being pushed into an ambulance, and she nodded at the two of them before leaning back, inhaling the oxygen given to her. Andy was nowhere to be seen, but Major Crimes and FID were on the peripheral, watching the house go up in flames. Will waved to her as he was bundled away into the ambulance, blowing her a kiss as he left.

They were alive. Her skin felt raw, her lungs felt chewed up but above all, she was alive. The paramedic closed the doors - it was time to go to the hospital. She would see Will later, once she knew that she was okay. Like it was ingrained into her, she put a hand over her stomach. She couldn't feel any movement, and the lack of it frightened her. She started to hyperventilate, her body rejecting all negative possibilities. The paramedics put more oxygen inside her, trying to calm her down as they drove to the hospital.

When they were ten minutes away, Sharon felt her daughter weakly kick her hand. She cried with joy.

X

It was true that in moments of great turmoil or stress, you flashed back to all the things you had done, all the things you wished you could change. Tommy remembered the first time he had rode a bike, first time he had driven a car. All things he had done without his father. He remembered playing football games, the first time he had ever slept with a girl, the last time he had been to his home in DC. He remembered being on those tracks, he remembered hoping against hope that his father came for him, but wishing just a little bit that he didn't. He wanted to hurt everyone and himself.

"I remember the day no one picked me up from school, no one went to parent teacher night. The day no one went to my basketball game. You didn't want a kid. You wanted a pet. Well I think it's time that this pet got put down."

He remembered his father's face when he had said those words, had remembered the pain running through them. He had torn up his shoulder dragging him out of a car so he wouldn't kill himself. He remembered the horror in his face when Brenda had told him what happened to Sharon, and the guilt that would stick with them both.

"I would die for you."

He could remember sitting down with Sharon a few days after Hanson had been killed. They were sitting out in the back garden, a drink in their hands. He remembered Sharon telling him about her father, about her mother, about Sam. She had shown him the scars, all of them, old and new. She had looked at him, looked so proud for how he was, how he was trying to cope.

He remembered seeing his father's face that morning - a look of pride and love. The look he had always seen on his father's face.

"Come on, Pope! Do it!"

Tommy shook his head, breaking himself out of memory lane. He turned towards Jacob Weaver, the image of his father's face stuck in his mind. He spun the knife around in his hand and brought it down into Jacob's shoulder. The football player went down to the floor, screaming in agony. No one moved; no one knew what they were going to do next. The players let go of their grip on Danny.

The young Pope looked down on Jacob and wrenched the knife out of his shoulder. He pressed him down to the ground with his foot, hissing through the pain of his cracked rib. "Danny, get Mina."

Danny tore off the jacket he wore and wrapped it around the teenage girl before picking her up and carrying her in his arms. She was weak, disorientated. Whatever they had given her was not wearing off - they needed to take her to a hospital. Tommy reached out for his mobile phone and dialled for an ambulance.

"Yeah, a friend of mine has been drugged in a frat prank gone wrong. We're at the UCLA frat district; the house with all the blue and yellow banners out front, our friend will be carrying her. Thank you."

He ended the call and nodded for Danny to take Mina out of the basement. He looked down at Jacob Weaver as the door closed behind him. He threw the knife down on the floor and turned to him. He was bleeding; one of his frat buddies was putting pressure on his wound.

"You want to die so badly, go take a car onto the tracks. I don't want to die; I don't want to become a monster. I've offered you something that Eddie Hanson never offered any of us: mercy. Your sister is dead, and I'm sorry, but I honestly wish he was into killing boys, as you certainly deserve what he did to her. At least that way, justice would be done."

The group parted so he could get to the door. Just as he reached the handle, he turned around to Jacob Weaver, who looked almost solemn. "Oh, and FYI? My Dad is the fucking Chief of Police, and Mina is my step mother's niece. You can fuck with me all you like, but don't mess with the blue line. You'll regret it."

He joined Danny in waiting for the ambulance. As they drove away, he thought he could make out her smile.

X

"Who would do this to the Chief?"

They had decided to stay and investigate rather than go to the hospital. There would be time for that later, but it seemed that they all agreed they had spent too long there recently. Crime scene tape had gone up around the house; the fire had been cooled and calmed. There seemed to be a light bordering on the horizon, it seemed like the sun wanted to rise on the day.

Claudia turned to Gabriel, who was staring up at the house with horror. "Well think of how many people the Chief has pissed off over the years. Hell, think of how many people Flynn has pissed off over the years! I'm sure someone has got a fire fetish."

Provenza shivered, and looked to Tao. "Croelick likes playing with fire. He also likes playing with the Chief and Flynn."

Tao nodded and moved to the nearest squad car. "I'll put out an alert to bring him into the office."

The remaining structure was too dangerous for them to go through, so they had to go around the house. They had flashlights over the most dangerous of areas, looking for any information that would give them clues. Once the Chief and Flynn were able to speak without needing masks, they could ask who did it. But for now they had to see if there was anything they could get without their help, and make a quick arrest.

Gabriel shook his head as he thought over the events of the night. "What was Flynn doing here anyway?"

"Other than sleeping with the Chief, I can't guess," Claudia stated, earning an appreciative glance from Provenza.

The two teams were glad to be working together again, but it was a shame it had to be in these circumstances. As they moved around the back of the house, Claudia had a thought. "You think Agent Howard is capable of this?"

Once again, Gabriel disagreed with her. "I've known Agent Howard a while, and he seems like a stand up guy. He wouldn't do this to the Chief, he loves her."

"Of course if she's fucking another guy," Simon started, and Sanchez nodded, finishing his sentence.

"We see it all the time. Love is one of the biggest causes of murder. And jealousy."

They were joined round the back of the house, leading on to another street, by Wes Carpenter. They had only met him on the scene, but he carried a badge and had saved Chief Johnson's life - they seemed to be old friends. Claudia nodded to him as he joined in the search with flashlights.

"There's something over here."

Provenza pointed the flashlight to the prone form of a woman, and snarled when he realised who it was. "Lana."

Simon rushed over to get her pulse, but shook his head when he couldn't find one. The teams moved over and examined the position of where Lana's body was and where the house was - she could directly see as the house burned.

"Looked like jealousy was the motive, we were just concentrating on the wrong partner," Provenza mumbled, turning his flashlight away from the dead woman. He felt sad for Lana, he did, but if she had been behind the cause of the fire then he was glad she was dead. He didn't want to lose anyone.

Claudia looked over and saw the nasty step that Lana was collapsed on. "How does her neck look?"

"Fine, except for being broken," Simon mumbled, joining his friend in staring at the step.

Claudia turned to Wes Carpenter, who was looking over the scene with a fine tooth comb, before standing in what appeared to be the spot Lana had been on. "Looks like she had stayed to watch her handiwork, stayed to watch them burn. Maybe she had a change of heart and went for help, tripping over the stairs and breaking her neck."

Claudia shone her light into Carpenter's face, noticing the thin traces of a smile. He turned to her. "Well at least that's what I hope happened. God forbid we have anyone else around here trying to kill people."

She shone the light away, realising that maybe it was best if she didn't delve into the answer. Claudia was sure she would find nothing, which was what she was meant to.

X

Mina was going to be okay. Danny was ringing his parents so they could pick him up from the hospital, while Tommy was waiting by her bedside. She was having her stomach pumped so they could try and get whatever she had taken out of her blood stream, and then give her fluids and lots of rest. She would be okay - and Tommy hoped it would be the last girl he would ever see so incapacitated.

"Hey," she croaked, and Tommy grinned. He reached down and kissed her hand.

"You okay, Mina? Your grandfather is going to have a cow, he told you not to come."

Mina laughed grittily. "I'll take that under consideration. Thank you."

"It's okay; I wasn't going to kill you, Mina. For one, Sharon would kill me."

She looked off into the distance, still gripping onto his hand. Her gaze focussed back onto him. She looked like she was in a daze, but her smile was as bright as it could be. "I love you, Tommy."

She smiled wistfully for a moment before drifting off into sleep. He didn't know what to say to her; just kissed her forehead and decided to leave, call Sharon and his father, talk to them about what had gone on. Once again, he was thinking about dropping out of College and starting again the next year. He wasn't having much luck with higher education.

Tommy headed to go get something from the vending machine. Danny was there with a cup of coffee, and he smiled weakly at him. There were no words they could say to each other - only the hope that it was now all over.

"Tommy!"

He recognised the voice, and looked to see Caitlin running down the hall, followed by Brendan. She buried her arms around her older brother, clinging onto him in tears. Tommy looked up to see Brendan also crying, and Estelle and his mother looking upset.

"What's going on?" Tommy asked them, his thoughts immediately concerned about Sharon and the baby. He left them alone for five minutes…

Caitlin continued to cry, and he turned towards Estelle who explained what was going on. "Your father was involved in a fire. I'm not sure where or what happened, but apparently Sharon was with him. They called us, and now we're here."

Tommy felt numb. He knew he should do something; he should help his little sister and find out where their father was. But he didn't want to be a grown up, he wanted to be a teenager and drink and party and study hard when he could. He didn't want the responsibility, the weight of it all.

Danny rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'll go sit by Mina, call her parents on your behalf. You go check on your Dad."

He thanked his friend, and gave him the number of Mina's father. They should also be told if there was something up with Sharon, but he wasn't sure yet. Holding his little sister's hand, he took control of his family and went looking for their father. Estelle made sure Brendan was okay, and Jean watched as her son took care of his family. She didn't ask what he was doing in a hospital, didn't wonder who the boy was, or who Mina was. She would find out in good time.

They found the hospital room that their father was in, having been taken up from the emergency room. Tommy fumbled the door knob the first time, and then managed to open the door to see his father. He was pale, hooked up to a machine making sure he was getting enough oxygen. His leg was being cleaned, the wound looked awful. His father looked worried, and when he turned to the door he almost looked disappointed for a moment. Tommy laughed.

"Wanted someone else, Dad?"

"They won't tell me how Sharon is doing." He paused. "Come here you guys!"

Tommy walked over and reached for his father. He wrapped his arms around him, clinging on. Looking at him, so weak and yet resolute - he couldn't imagine his father as anything less than a police officer, standing up for justice. No doubt he had done something stupid like gone into a burning building to save a puppy or something. Tommy clung onto his father and started to cry, the adrenaline from the night causing him to break down into tears.

"Hey, I'm okay. Just a broken leg. They're treating me for tetanus, and I'll have to stay in tonight and maybe tomorrow, but I'll be okay. Strong lungs, I'm fine."

As Tommy broke away from his father, Caitlin reached up and curled next to him. He kissed her head and reached out for Brendan's hand. He smiled at Jean and Estelle. The latter nodded towards them. "Jean and I will be outside. If it's okay with you, we'll take all three kids back to your house and make sure they're okay for tonight, and then I'm sure Tommy can look after them until you're back on your feet."

Tommy and Will nodded at Estelle as the two women left, Jean squeezing her son's shoulder as they left the room. When it was just Popes and the nurses, Will started to laugh at how calm and non-controlling Jean and especially Estelle were. Caitlin grinned against her father's arm.

"Has the world ended?"

"Probably," Will smiled, taking in all three of his kids. He hoped that he would never have to gather them in a hospital room ever again.

"What happened, Dad?" Tommy asked, putting his arm around Brendan.

"Sharon and I were going for a walk, going to see if Andy and Brenda were about. Their house was on fire, I went in to get Andy out, and then went back inside for Brenda. Got trapped under a dining room table, and Sharon came in after me. Some fire fighters brought us out."

Tommy shook his head and reached for his father once again. "Is Sharon going to be okay?"

"I don't know. Listen, I'll be fine here; let your mothers take you home, get some sleep. I'll call you with more news." Will kissed Caitlin's head. "I'll be fine, I need to sleep anyway."

"Promise you'll wake up?" Caitlin asked, almost crying.

"I promise that I will, sweetheart. I promise you that."

Tommy ushered Caitlin and Brendan out of the room after they had hugged and kissed Will. The young man turned to his father. "Is she going to be okay, Dad? I want to stay with you till you know."

"I have no idea son, and I would love for you to stay but…I need to be alone for this, Tommy. I love you, but I need to keep you from getting hurt. I don't want to cry in front of my kids."

Tommy reached over and gripped his father. "I feel like I'm not your child anymore."

Will held his son's face, and noticed there was something off in his eyes. "Are you okay? Did something happen at the party?"

"I don't want to cry in front of my Dad."

Will laughed. "We'll talk about it tomorrow, after some sleep. You'll always be my child, Tommy; I'll always want to protect you. But I am glad to see that you are becoming the man I've always seen in you. Now, get some sleep, and don't bury Estelle under the patio, we want to sell the house."

Outside in the corridor, Tommy didn't tell anyone why he was laughing. Back home, with Estelle in the guest room and Caitlin and Brendan asleep, he cried to his mother, who just held her son.

X

He had been in pain before, and had survived it. But this was unlike anything he had ever come across, and eventually he just gave into the drugs, the feel of relief spreading through his veins. Everything was like a dream state. Maybe it all was a dream. He was still in bed after Hanson's attack - maybe it went even further than that?

The night that Sharon had told them about her father, that must be it. He was asleep after that; he would wake up in a moment and find it would be January rather than September. He would laugh some parts of his dream off with Provenza - him being a Captain, him having a super hot girlfriend, but would not mention any of the other things. He wouldn't talk about Sharon being raped; he wouldn't talk about shooting Jimmy. Hanson would still be out there, but he wouldn't be scarred, his wrist would still have skin on it.

"Mr Flynn? How are you feeling?"

Andy opened his eyes through the haze and turned to the nurse. She was looking at him with so much pity, and he knew he was crying. He realised too late he needed the pain, needed to know that the pain was real. Because it anchored him, because without it he would slip into a dream world where he lusted after the Chief, where everyone was sort of happy and no one was hurt. He searched, and on the peripheral of the haze there was the pain, and it snapped him out of his dream as he focussed on that.

"Chief Johnson. Is she alive?" he asked, tears forming in the corner of his eye. "Is she dead?"

The nurse didn't say anything, and Andy collapsed to the bed. Lana had got her wish, she had taken the one thing from him that he had ever wanted, ever desired more than a bottle of whiskey, a case to close. She had been the one thing that made sense; that gave him what he needed.

The pain numbed his body, and Andy wondered whether he would be able to get off of whatever this medication was quite easily, or whether they would have to drop down his dosage slowly until they were comfortable letting him off it. He didn't know, but it didn't matter to him anymore. As soon as he was out of this hospital room, he was going to go to a bar and drink himself into oblivion. He didn't want to think anymore.

"Mr Flynn, hello, I'm Doctor Sanford. Reviewing your chart, I can tell you that your cast protected your arm from a lot of the burns. Unfortunately your other arm must have undergone some fire damage during your escape, not aided by the metal handcuffs you were wearing. There is going to be some definite scaring on your wrist, and we are hoping to do a skin graft to cover that section of your forearm. Your other arm does need to be reset, but we can do that quite easily." He smiled at him, his lips painfully thin. "I am very sorry, Mr Flynn. We are trying everything."

But Flynn wasn't paying attention to the doctor towards the end; he knew he was in a bad shape. He was looking towards where the nurses were pushing another bed into the room. He sat up, hissing from the sudden stab in pain that the medication didn't cover. He looked towards the bed, recognised the blonde hair and the beautiful smile as she looked his way. An oxygen mask covered her face.

"Brenda."

She rolled over to where he was, and he could see that she was crying. Another tear slipped down his cheek as he stared at her, happy she was alive. He could still die of infection, complications in his damn surgery. He was going to recommend the LAPD institute jelly handcuffs, just so they were easier to get out of in case of fire.

But she was okay, that was all that mattered.

"Ms Johnson, your chart looks okay. Smoke inhalation, the head injury, shock of course and maybe some follicle damage from the gasoline. Thankfully you were brought out before the fire got into the room, which makes your injuries fairly light. I'll be keeping you in overnight of course, just to make sure there are no underlying problems and to treat your concussion. But I think you're going to be okay. As are you, Mr Flynn. We'll be keeping you in for a lot longer, but I think you're going to be alright."

The nurses made another cursory check on Andy and Brenda before they left the room. As they looked out of the window, they could see that the sun was rising. It was Saturday. Brenda pulled off the oxygen mask and moved over to where Andy was - she was wearing an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

"I hate those gowns…I always feel like…I don't know, I've just seen so many people in them die. I had Gabriel bring me some spare clothes from the office. Everything's gone," Brenda whispered as she looked at Andy.

"I'm sorry."

Brenda shook her head. "If anyone has to apologise, it's Lana the nut job. You have a great taste in women, Andy, just saying." She sat down on a chair next to Andy's bed, sucking in oxygen. Her hair was freshly washed, and the wound on her head was stitched up. "It's not your fault. Although, I think in future everyone at the LAPD needs to tell everyone who they are interested in, and make things clear. Ambiguous statements seem to be a bad thing."

"Guess I should tell Simon I'm not interested."

There was a snort from the doorway, and they turned to see Simon and Provenza come in. Simon shook his head at the pair of them. "I'm over you, Flynn. I like my men a little less gung ho."

Brenda smiled, but that soon faded when Gabriel came in, angry that she wasn't in bed. She rolled her eyes and moved over to place the oxygen mask back over her face for a few quick breaths before taking it back off again. Gabriel seemed appeased, but looked worried at the pair of them. He turned to the Chief.

"What happened?"

Brenda closed her eyes, hearing her own screaming inside her head. She whispered one word, which seemed to confirm Gabriel's suspicions. "Lana."

Claudia came in through the door, nodding at them and smiling at the Chief. "The fire fighters didn't manage to save much from the house. Some of the bedroom stuff is intact, mostly because the fire didn't reach it. The kitchen is gone, as is the living room. But…" Claudia brought something from behind her back. It was the Chief's handbag. "We saved the third most important thing."

Brenda smiled and ran her fingers over the bag. Andy grinned as he sat back in bed, tracing patterns in the bed sheets. The medication still wouldn't cover all the pain, and he rode it out. He looked up at Provenza, who was not impressed with seeing his best friend in hospital. It wasn't like he had planned it!

"You'll need to find Lana; get a confession out of her. Treat her like a witness, or Andy's next of kin or something; make reference to us being together to spark something off. She definitely lit the match." Brenda gritted her teeth as she shivered on the bed, flashing back to the events of the night before.

The two Lieutenants and the Sergeant turned towards Provenza, and he nodded. There was something that their half of two teams weren't telling them. He rubbed the back of his head and turned towards Flynn, not sure how his friend would accept the news.

"We found Lana. I'm sorry, Flynn, but she's dead." Provenza shook his head, growing angry. "As you two would have been, had Chief Pope and that Carpenter guy not pulled you out! So, I'm glad she's dead. Saves us having to file charges."

Claudia noticed that there was a look in the Chief's eye at the mention of Carpenter that she couldn't quite identify. It was something she had never seen before, and she didn't want to see again - something worse than fear. She turned to Claudia, hiding what she had seen in her eyes. "How did Lana die?"

"Broken neck," Claudia barked, not mentioning about the step.

Andy looked over to Brenda, wondering why she looked so concerned. The blonde Deputy Chief didn't say anything more, just reached and gripped for Andy's hand as tight as she could. His good hand was now the one that had been broken mere weeks before, but he still held onto her, wanting the contact with her.

"Chief? I mean it was an accident, Lana. You think otherwise?"

Brenda turned to Provenza. "No, Lieutenant. Write up your report with all the details, the coroner will no doubt decide how Lana died. The only people who wanted her dead were burning in the house."

Gabriel nodded and they moved outside to give them some room. Simon shook his head at Claudia for worrying the Chief, and Provenza rested his hand on Gabriel's shoulder. Outside she could see the rest of the team waving at her, and Wes standing there. He gave her a nod, and she nodded back.

"You sure, Chief?" Claudia asked from the doorway, turning towards Carpenter. He gave her a smile.

"I am, Lieutenant. Sometimes guilty people get justice from us, sometimes something else intervenes. Thank you, Claudia."

She shook the thoughts out of her head and concentrated on Flynn, who was intent on gripping onto her hand as hard as he could. They didn't say anything, just tried to fall asleep. Flynn watched Brenda fall asleep, and then turned, trying himself. The pain was still there, and he looked at his bandages, wondering what he had done to deserve them. Finally, he drifted off. They missed the news told to the team. They missed Claudia breaking down onto her knees in tears.

X

Will was getting irate at how no one would tell him how Sharon was doing. He yelled, but no one would tell him what was going on. After the sun had come up, and he had been in the hospital for hours without sleep, a doctor came in to talk to him. He looked grave, and Will wondered whether it was his fiancée or his daughter he had lost, or possibly both. Life didn't seem to be on their side.

"Mr Pope, you've been asking about Sharon Raydor. You're her next of kin on her forms, so I'm comfortable informing you about her status." He sat down on the chair next to Will. "Mr Pope, Sharon suffered no physical injuries apart from a few scrapes and bruises, but she inhaled quite a lot of smoke. We've had her on oxygen for a while, running constant ultrasounds to see how her child is doing."

"Okay." He didn't like the sound of this, not at all.

The doctor pushed a nonexistent lock of hair behind his head. "I've been looking at her records, and if I'm honest I'm surprised she hasn't had any trouble with the baby previously. I would have expected her to miscarry. She has a history of it, the last time she was pregnant. She suffered great trauma in February, and then with several incidents of stress over the summer…Mr Pope have you ever considered the idea that Sharon might want a termination?"

Will nodded solemnly. "At the beginning of her pregnancy she was in London, recovering from rape. She told me once that she had thought about getting an abortion while she was there, but she came back to LA before she could. She fell in love with our daughter; there was no need to consider it anymore. Why?"

"Well I think that her lack of eating, her lack of carefulness may stem from either a desire to kill the baby, or to kill herself, put bluntly. I've recommended her for a week's observation in here, where we're going to get her weight up."

"Did she miscarry? You said you were checking, and then you said it would be highly likely that she would!"

A glimmer of a smile graced the doctor's features. "Someone is looking out for you, Mr Pope. Sharon is very weak, very underweight, as is the child. She did inhale a lot of smoke, and we will be looking for any abnormalities the child will have when she's born. She may be born premature, so it is vitally important that we get their weight up, and that Sharon rests."

The doctor stood up from his seat and turned to Will. "You can see her now; you can talk to her and explain to her what needs to be done. You both work at the LAPD, so I'm recommending she visits the psychologist there twice a week, at least, to see if there are any underlying issues behind the troubles in her pregnancy. But, as long as we get their weight up and Sharon stays in bed until the little one is born, they'll be okay."

Will didn't know what to say, and thankfully the Doctor left him to it. His heart was beating wildly, and thankfully two of the nurses helped get him into a wheelchair so he could go see Sharon. She was in a room another floor down. He thanked them as he got to her door, and pushed it open.

Sharon was there, lying on the bed, having another ultrasound. She looked gaunt, pale, wrapped in thick blankets apart from her stomach which was on show. He could see his daughter on the monitor, could see how small she was. Probably less than the three pounds she was supposed to be. But she had eyebrows.

"Hey, you."

"Hey yourself," Sharon whispered.

The nurse left them alone, and Will rolled over to see her. She was smiling when she saw him, and she reached for his hand, and he took it between his, kissing her palm. Sharon was smothered in blankets, had an IV plugged into her arm.

"How long have you known you've been underweight?"

"Since the other day, when we went for the scan." Sharon sighed. "But I suspected before then, I was underweight when I came back from London and one thing and another…I'm sorry, Will. I am so sorry."

He reached up, bearing his weight on his good leg and kissed her forehead. She cupped his face with her hand, and he watched with horror as her eyes began to fill with tears. He brushed them away, but they kept growing.

"I wasn't trying to kill myself, or her, I wasn't, Will, I wasn't. I love her, I love her so much."

"I know, babe, I know."

He kissed her head, not sure what more he could say to her, what advice he could share to help ease the pain in her heart. He swung his leg around so he was leaning on the hospital bed. She accommodated him, and rested against his chest. His good leg rested between hers. Words wouldn't come to him, but just holding onto her meant the world. She was still here, he was still here.

"I love you, Will. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, and it's scary. I have been so miserable for so long, I've been through so much…I don't think I deserve this."

He kissed her neck, and Sharon shivered at the intimate gesture. He whispered in her ear. "We're in this together."

"I know, Will, but…"

Will shook his head, looking at her with soft eyes. "We are in this together. We're getting married. You have tried to be strong for yourself, and I've tried to give you space, but it hasn't worked. We're two halves, Sharon, we make each other whole." He ran his fingers over her neck, stroking where it met her back. She purred. "The Doctor wants you in therapy. We'll do it together, you and me. You can talk about Sam and Hanson and Jimmy, and I can talk about my Dad. And my Mom. And my brother."

Sharon looked at him, surprised. "You never talk about them."

"You think you're the only one who is fucked up? Get in line. We'll both share; we'll both have a competition to see who has the worst issues." He had a look at the IV. "They're making you stay here for a week; I'll be here every day, as much as I can. When you come out, you'll officially be on maternity leave, confined to your bed for the simple purposes of resting, watching sports and cuddling with your adorable fiancé."

Sharon giggled and leaned in to kiss Will. He laughed once again, and it finally stuck in her head that she wanted this life, wanted and deserved what happened to her, all the good little things that seemed to happen now she had this incredible man in her life.

"Just cuddles?" Sharon teased.

"We'll work on it. Start small, start innocent and then get a little risky." He brushed her hair back. "As soon as we get back I'm having guards and a ton of locks put on the house. I'm sorting out a new place, our place." He grinned and kissed her again. "I am having you, Sharon, as my wife, and there is not a damn thing the universe can do about it. I'm not used to not getting what I want."

"Good. Because I never get what I want, but I think I finally am. We'll do it, Will. Therapy, staying here." Sharon coughed. "Maternity leave, if I have to. I want this." She looked into his eyes. "I want this. I want to be happy."

"We are."

They hugged once more, being as close as they dared. Will wanted to let her get some sleep, and was about to move into his chair so he could get some of his own when there was a knock at the door. It opened to reveal Ian Baker, looking weary.

"Hey Ian, came to check up on me?" Sharon teased, and noticed his smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'm okay, Ian, everyone is okay."

Her smile faded as Ian approached, trying to look calm but his eyes revealed anything but. He was crying. Will felt awkward sitting on the bed, and moved to swing into his chair. Sharon gripped onto his hand, not wanting to go.

Will turned towards Sharon's oldest friend. "Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"No, you should stay, Chief," Ian's voice broke as he spoke. "A black and white was doing a cursory pass through this road, came across a body lying in a ditch. Three stab wounds to his chest, obviously dumped."

"Who? Ian, who is it?" She already knew the answer, but it just seemed wrong that it would be.

"Stephen," he coughed before the tears let loose again. He rested a hand on Sharon's bed, trying to steady himself.

Will shook his head. "Captain, you must be mistaken. How would Chief Mitchell end up like that, it makes no sense - he doesn't go out on the job. Maybe it was someone carrying his ID, mistaken identity with cops happens more than you think."

Ian pulled a bag out of his jacket and threw it on the bed. It was the personal effects from the body - Stephen - a wedding ring and a wallet. Sharon used a tissue to dig inside the bag and open up the wallet. She recognised the pictures, of his family, of his girls. And there, right at the end, was a picture of all five of them from so many years ago.

Sharon curled on her side, looking at the picture. She began to cry, and Will could only offer her his comforting embrace, his own grief building inside him. Ian left them to it after taking the ring and the wallet, needing to go see Michael and Eddie next. As he closed the door, he saw both of them curled in each other, crying.

Outside the hospital room, Ian Baker realised it would be easier to tell Stephen Mitchell's wife and children then it would be to tell his own friends. The LAPD redefined 'family', and as he walked back to his car, he was glad that Will and Sharon had each other.

Grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of joy, you must have somebody to divide it with.

Mark Twain

"I'm coming."

Will looked behind him to see Sharon wrapped up in a bed sheet. It seemed almost a mirror to the morning they had gone into Court, except today he was not trying to pick a tie to impress a judge, but to wear to his friend's funeral. She was not trying to deal with her pregnancy alone, she had him, but he could only help her grieve so much. He pressed his back against the wardrobe and looked at Sharon. She seemed defiant for someone who had only been out of hospital two days.

"I know what the doctor said, I know they said that I had to keep calm and just relax. But its Stephen's funeral, Will! I want to come."

The first week back at work had been bad, he'd had to hobble everywhere, he had to deal with the newspapers speculating about who could have murdered the head of Internal Affairs, conspiracy theories circling around like vultures. All he cared about was his children, and his fiancée. Caitlin and Brendan were fine, they had agreed to the custody terms and enjoyed seeing their mother more than they had, glad she was making an effort. Tommy had made plans to go back to his mother's fairly soon - he still hadn't told Will what had gone on, although he knew Sharon had some idea from the phone call Otto had made. He was waiting for his son to tell him, he didn't want to push him.

"I don't know what tie to wear." He looked at his wardrobe and shut the door behind him. He picked up his crutches and hobbled over to the bed. He slipped in next to her, holding her hand, tipping the crutches onto the floor. He hated to use them, hated to appear weak in front of his officers but he knew if he didn't then Sharon would rip him apart for not taking care of himself.

They said nothing, just held each other's hand. She was shaking under the covers, her face a little flushed but still pale. "You won't tell me about the case, Will. Have you found someone yet?"

"No, no one. I knew he was working on a case, but…I doubt it has anything to do with it, I honestly do." He clutched her closer to him, wishing he could give her better news.

"I miss him, Will. He was…I've had plenty of people trying to step into my father's shoes. Stephen was never like that, he was my mentor, he was my boss. He was my friend. I miss him so much; I just can't believe he's not here anymore."

She leant her head against his shoulder, and their hands entangled themselves in the sheets. Michael had collapsed against the door when he had been told about Stephen's death. Eddie had not said anything, just sat on his chair and watched a blank television. She hadn't heard how Ian had taken the news, but his phone had gone straight to voicemail all week.

"I don't know anything about IA traditions, Sharon…do you wear your uniforms? Babe?" Sharon broke out of her thoughts to look at Will who was smiling so softly at her, trying to keep her from getting hurt from so many things. "Tell me about Internal Affairs traditions when someone passes away."

Her lips fumbled over each other, she wasn't sure what to say. "We wear red. Just something red."

He smiled. "Red tape. Okay, why don't you get dressed and I'll dig out my red tie." He kissed her on the forehead and reached out for his crutches.

"I can come?"

"I would never deny you that," Will whispered. "I miss him too, Sharon, so much. It kills me that we can't find the guy that did this, I want to so badly. But we will. I promise you that."

Sharon moved from the covers and Will couldn't stop looking at her. She had put on quite a bit of weight in the past week, rounding out her hips and her breasts, and also making her start to show. She looked healthy - and although she still had some way to go and was on a strict diet from the hospital, she was getting there. The past two evenings they had gone out for a walk, and Sharon had made him promise he would not go and rescue anyone from any burning buildings. Like he could with his peg leg.

"Will, could you help me with this?"

She had gone and bought a few new clothes yesterday with Claudia and Simon, just to bolster her wardrobe and so they would actually fit. She hated to wear pyjamas all the time; she liked to be dressed and ready for work. He hadn't seen some of the clothes, but one of them was a red sun dress that reached her knees. She had a black cardigan that would go over the top.

"Sure."

She pulled off her pyjama bottoms and shirt, and changed into a fresh pair of underwear. Will's gaze never left her, took all of her in. Every single scar, ever single mark on her. As she handed him the dress, he knew that she wanted it this way, for her to be on show for him. He pulled the dress over her head, helped her slip into the spaghetti sleeves. He did the zipper at the back and kissed the neck that was on show. He pulled her cardigan around her shoulders, and she helped him with his tie.

"You look beautiful."

She didn't say anything, just held onto him for as long as his body would allow. His heart would let her hold onto him forever.

X

She was staying in a hotel. Her home was gone; all her possessions bar a few were burned out of recognition. She had a single suitcase containing the clothes she had, the few trinkets that had been saved. Her photographs, her furniture: everything was gone. They had insurance for acts of arson, so apart from not getting her deposit back she wouldn't lose any money.

"Hi, Fritz, it's me again. When you get a chance, call me back."

Brenda had left half a dozen voicemail messages on his phone, telling him about the fire and wanting to talk. She was grateful that he had moved all of his belongings out of the house, so they didn't have a fight about that. It was bad enough she felt guilty about what had happened to their place, but the guilt trip that Fritz would no doubt have thrown at her about her lover's ex was more than she could handle. As she lay down on her hotel bed, she had never felt more alone. Fritz was too busy in DC, Will was trying to help a grieving Sharon, and Andy was avoiding her.

She had got out of hospital on the Sunday after the fire, and when she had come back to visit Andy they weren't allowing any visitors. He was undergoing the skin grafts, and was in intensive care. She came in every day, and called his mobile to see if he would pick up. But nothing. Her entire life was gone - her marriage, her home and now when she needed Andy most of all she couldn't see him.

Today was Stephen's funeral. As Brenda looked out of her hotel she could see kids jumping in the pool, could see people acting like nothing was going wrong. She supposed they were right, but for her things seemed so empty. She hadn't known Stephen very long, not compared to the likes of Sharon and the rest of Internal Affairs. But what she had seen was a man who cared, a man who she had had fun with usurping Julian Brody in the race for Chief. Now she was trying to solve his murder, and they had no leads. No one seemed to want Stephen that dead, and even the mythical last case he was working on they had no trace of.

Wearing a black dress with a red scarf in her hair, Brenda decided to head to the hospital to see Andy. She needed a friendly face, and Andy was always that to her, if not more. She just needed to talk to him, to see his smile to make everything that they had endured was worth it.

"Hi, can I see Andy Flynn please?" She asked the nurse at the front desk. Despite the hot sun, Brenda had felt cold walking outside. She gathered the thin LAPD windbreaker she wore around her shoulders, her only jacket left in the world.

"I'm sorry, Ms Johnson, but Andy Flynn discharged himself this morning," the nurse announced. She saw Brenda's badge on her hip. "I can give you the address he said he was going to, if you'd like that.

"Thank you."

Taking a taxi, she found the address where Flynn was staying. It was a hotel on the opposite side of downtown from her. It looked nice, but she felt sadness welling up for him. He hadn't had a home in so long, and had just started to create one with her when it had been burnt down. Her heart skipped with joy as she walked up the steps of the hotel and went inside the elevator, trying to get to Flynn's floor. He was still injured, but she just needed to see him, see his smile and she knew she could get through today.

Finding the right room, she knocked on the door. She waited patiently until the door opened up to reveal Flynn. He looked at her with alarm, and immediately backpedalled behind the door. She had caught a glimpse of his injuries, his arm was back in a new cast, his other wrapped in a heavy bandage.

"Chief, what are you doing here?"

So it was back to Chief. Was he going to forget about this summer, about them sharing their feelings and making love and moving in to her house together? "Andy, I want to see you. I came every day to the hospital, just to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah the doctors said."

Brenda nodded, pushing her hand through the gap in the door. She needed him to know that she was there for him, that she loved him and wanted to start things over with him. She needed to get through the door.

"I called…listen, maybe you can come over to my hotel tonight? I've got room service…we could talk about things. Are you coming to Stephen's funeral today?"

"No."

"I could pick you up once it's over, we could talk."

There was some shuffling from the room and Brenda could see he wanted to close the door. She removed her hand, cold from where it had not been touched. Andy closed the door a crack before whispering to her.

"I'm sorry, Brenda."

As the door closed and was locked, Brenda didn't know what Andy was sorry for. But she couldn't miss the sound of weeping that came from the room as she stood there, wavering in the hall.

X

No one would never have thought that Internal Affairs was hated by the turn out at Stephen Mitchell's funeral. Will and Sharon parked up the car, and Tommy and Sharon helped him use his crutches to make it to the graveside. Stephen's family had asked for an outside service, and the sun shone down for it.

A line of officers stood in uniforms to the side, those that were there out of respect. Will looked up and saw that Julian Brody was present, his uniform buttons polished. He nodded at Will when he saw him staring, and Will wondered not for the first time whether he should have told Sharon about his thoughts about Stephen's investigation. Maybe another time.

The whole of Internal Affairs had congregated for the funeral, a parade of red and black standing out. Sharon squeezed his hand and went over to join Ian, Eddie and Michael, who all wore black suits with red ties. They held onto her, helped her to stand at the grave of their friend and mentor. Stephen's family looked over the grave, but Will could see that neither of his daughters had come to see their father buried.

"Chief," a southern voice greeted from behind him. Brenda looked good for someone who had nearly been burnt alive a week before. She had got the memo about wearing red, as had Taylor and the rest of Major Crimes and Robbery Homicide who stood over the graveside as a mark of respect for a great man.

"Flynn isn't here," Will stated, looking at the line of officers of Internal Affairs. Even his son, wearing a red shirt underneath his suit, stood with Sharon and the rest of FID. He wasn't with Major Crimes either.

"He isn't coming."

Will reached over and held Brenda's hand as the minister performed the service. He could see Sharon's chest rise and fall with tears, and was glad that the three Captains of Internal Affairs were there to see her through it. His gaze shifted from Sharon to once again look at Brody, who couldn't keep his eyes off of the casket.

He didn't know what to do, so he wrapped an arm around Brenda, keeping her steady. Something had happened with Flynn, and she needed a friend. He had thought about offering to let Brenda stay with them for a few days until she found a new place, but didn't know how she and Sharon would get on in a small enclosed area. He would be there for Brenda like she had been there for him in the summer, anyway he could. He didn't want to lose anymore family.

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me."

At the end of the service, Stephen's widow was given the flag that had been draped over the coffin. It was the Los Angeles flag, and she took it sadly. Another relative brought her away from the coffin to comfort her, but she didn't miss the ceremony that Internal Affairs gave. Two detectives produced a few bouquets and each officer of IA placed a white rose on the coffin. The four heads of department placed a pink rose on top, and held onto each other as they watched it be lowered into the ground. Internal Affairs was the closest department in the LAPD, they needed to be. When one of them died, it was heartbreaking.

As the ceremony concluded, and the mass of people began to disperse, Sharon found Will and held on tight. "Take me home," she whispered, and he did without question. They walked away from the scene, still in a state of shock. It seemed unnatural, that they were burying a friend, especially Stephen. Their grief seemed like a bad joke poured on them by an uncaring world.

Brenda stood at the grave, watching as they started to put dirt on top of what used to be Stephen Mitchell. She knew she should leave, should stop staring transfixed at what was going on, but she had nowhere else to be.

X

His father had said he could take the day off, but he needed to go into college. He had attended his first police funeral yesterday, had sat amongst the honour and tradition of the LAPD and watched as they buried one of their own. Once again he was having doubts about his life, and needed to get out of the house and away from an understandably grief stricken Sharon.

"Pope!"

Tommy turned around to where someone was shouting his name, and grimaced as he saw Jacob coming towards him. He could walk away, the image of Mina fresh in his mind. Mina's parents and her grandfather had wanted to press charges but as Mina pointed out, Jacob had already been given his cosmic justice by Tommy stabbing him in the shoulder. Tommy would get into trouble if they brought it up, so they had done nothing, much to Otto's sadness. Tommy decided to ride out what Jacob wanted, and punch him in the face if it came to that.

"On your own today, Weaver? Thought you always came with an entourage."

He tried to sound spiteful, but it didn't come off. This crap meant nothing, not really. Not when it was compared to what his parents had been through in the last few months.

Jacob shrugged at him. "None of them wanted to get involved with what happened - they called an ambulance, tore down the set up and told me to fuck off. Haven't seen any of them since."

"Well at least they have a brain between them," Tommy snorted. "If you want to beat me up, Weaver, go right ahead. But I think I made my point with that freaking knife you pressed into my hand. I am sorry, Jacob, I can't say anymore."

Tommy shook his head and continued to move through the grounds of UCLA, trying to be by himself. He had two missed calls from Charlie, and a text from Mina. He should have left, but his mother had asked him not to drop out again. She had told him to keep going. So he had, even though the stares had increased. He felt pressure on his arm as he continued walking and looked up to see that Jacob had followed him. He looked devastated, and Tommy couldn't handle that expression, not anymore.

"I miss her, Pope. I miss my sister." Tommy looked up to see that Jacob was crying. "She was everything; she was my damn best friend. And you know what is even worse? I miss Hanson. He was my mentor, he was my friend. I wanted to be him, ever since I met him; I wanted to live up to him. I don't know how I can go on; no one seems to understand what I've lost, or how much I hate myself."

Tommy hesitated for a moment, before he reached over and put a hand on Jacob's shoulder. "I stood there in front of Mina, and for a moment I considered it. Because for a moment I forgot everything that had happened, and all I remembered was the only teacher who truly believed in me. Then I remembered my father, who always has, and has never killed any teenage girls."

Jacob nodded, and smiled. "I'm going to a counsellor, now, trying to get better. It's hard, every time I crack open a text book, I think of him. I want to create some new memories of UCLA." He reached out for Tommy's hand, and they shook. A truce. "If you ever need anything, Tommy, then just ask. I'll email you my phone number, or something. You were right, about not wanting to turn into a monster. I'm glad you didn't go through with it, as that was what I would have become."

Weaver walked away, and Tommy looked on his departing form with sadness. People dealt with grief in different ways, some people blamed the world, some lived in a state of denial. Danny was waiting for him just outside the campus, and he relayed the story of Weaver before they went to lunch. Maybe freshman year wouldn't be so bad. He just hoped there were no more serial killers on staff.

X

She was in Stephen's office. She knew she should be at home, resting in bed, but she had come in to pack up the last of Stephen's things. All the case files and paperwork had already gone to the Internal Affairs conference room next door, so it was just the personal things he had.

There was a huge photograph of Stephen with his wife and his two daughters. She had met them a few times, they were so proud of what their father was doing. There was a smaller photograph of his eldest graduating from Yale, and another photograph of his other daughter wining some art prize. Tucked behind the family photographs was something smaller. Sharon almost thought it was her baby girl before she realised that the dates were different.

"Mal, due end of October," Sharon read aloud, and remembered that Stephen's daughter was pregnant. She hadn't seen her at the funeral, but if she was pregnant she may not have been able to cope with the stress. Her heart fell as she realised that Stephen had just missed out on seeing his grandson being born.

"Hey kid," Eddie opened the door to see Sharon sitting at the desk. "Shouldn't you be at home?"

Sharon shook her head as she turned back to the photographs and what else was on his desk. There was a larger image of the one in his pocket, of the four of them standing shoulder to shoulder. Sharon smiled weakly as she realised all of them had something red on, as was the IA tradition. Eddie patted her on the shoulder, and groaned when he saw the ultrasound.

"He'd been muttering on about Clara and Mal for ages…Clara's husband died in Afghanistan last year, she's all on her own. I didn't see her at the funeral, I didn't see Beth either."

Sharon didn't say anything, just looked through his desk drawers. There was a box with her, and she started packing up the photographs that covered his desk. "We should get these to his widow. I'm not sure that she'll want this one of us, I'll bring it but…I'd like to keep it, it's a beautiful picture. Finally a photograph where you and Michael aren't beating each other up."

Eddie snorted, and she looked over to see the brash man that had always seemed so strong, had always seemed hard as nails, crying. His face was raw, his fingers gripping onto the desk drawer. Sharon reached over and clung to him. Eddie stroked the back of her head as they both cried.

After they had wept for as long as they felt they could, Sharon moved to sit on the desk. Eddie opened the drawers and started pulling pieces of paper out, little trinkets. Sharon sighed. "You know the day he died? We were in the memorial garden, and he was telling me how he worried about all of us, how he always thought one of us was going to get killed."

Eddie agreed. "We all thought it would be you first, Sharon. No offence, but you have no concept of personal danger."

"Says the man who refuses to go out with a vest."

Ian knocked on the door and joined them. Michael came in next, the four heads of Internal Affairs frozen in their grief. They looked at the photographs that Stephen had kept, the ultrasound, the remains of Stephen's files. Ian rested a hand on Sharon's, not sure whether she should be there or not. But they needed to do this, needed to do this as a family.

"I know no one wants to talk about this, but we do need a new Head of Internal Affairs," Michael stated. He felt three pairs of eyes on him, but he wouldn't back down. "Did Stephen tell any of you who he wanted to replace him?"

Sharon thought back to her conversation with Stephen the morning that he had died, thought back to his announcement that he wanted her to take over the reins. She shook her head and continued on packing up the boxes, not realising that all three of the boys were staring at her.

"What?"

"Stephen wanted you, didn't he?" Ian asked, but Sharon shook her head so much her head spun.

"It doesn't matter what he wanted, I'm not taking the job. It's too soon, he's barely been in the ground a day and you're asking me to take his job? No, I won't do it."

Sharon shoved another photograph in the box, gripping onto the cardboard. She wished the boys would stop staring at her, would stop looking at her the way they had always looked at Stephen, like she was a guiding light to keep them on the right path. But as she matched their stares, she realised they had always looked at her like that.

"It's too soon," she whispered.

Eddie shook his head and put an arm around her. "We need a leader, Sharon. Stephen wanted you, he always wanted you. You took over FID from him; it was going to be natural that you'd be in charge of Internal Affairs."

Ian smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Maybe we should close the case on Stephen before we appoint a new head. See if Major Crimes can get to the bottom of his murder, and then appoint someone new. I mean, technically you're on maternity leave until she's born, so we don't have to appoint anyone new until you get back."

The boys nodded, and Sharon felt a little better. She had a while before Andie was born, and in that time she could persuade Ian to take her place, to look after Internal Affairs. She couldn't be a Deputy Chief, not like this. She had wanted to one day have a role like this, but not when it was replacing her murdered mentor.

"You know Stephen was working on a big case?" Michael started and the group mumbled, more focussed on making sure Sharon was okay. "Well I've just found the case file. Stephen was investigating Julian Brody on charges of corruption, drug smuggling, tons of felonies…including helping the escape of a man in custody."

Sharon's head shot up. "Jake Webster."

Michael nodded and passed her the file. There were notes, pictures of Brody and indeed of Webster. At the back of the file there was a newspaper article about her rape and departure from the LAPD. The picture of her was large, solemn.

"Stephen said he had to wrap up a case and then he was going to see Will and get the Assistant Chief job," Sharon looked at the folder. "Gentlemen, I think this is enough probable cause to get a search warrant and arrest Julian Brody."

The boys looked at her with a glint in their eye. Eddie smacked his hand down on the table, resting one hand on his gun. "Yes ma'am. I'll go inform Major Crimes, and if it's okay with Chief Johnson, I think we'd like to make the arrest ourselves."

"I have no problem with that," Sharon looked over the file again, moving from the desk to sit in Stephen's chair. She ran her hands over the article, the guilt welling up inside her, the anger about what had happened to Stephen rising. "If there is, tell her to come talk to the head of Internal Affairs."

Ian, Michael and Eddie left the office with renewed enthusiasm, something she couldn't muster. She looked at the folder, looked at its contents but held back the tears. It wasn't the time for grief; it was the time for justice.

X

He was spinning a toothpick in his hand, not sure what else to do. He regretted not going to the funeral yesterday, regretted leaving things how he did with Brenda. But he couldn't do anything else; he just needed to be away from her. He kept looking at himself in the mirror, at his scars and his injuries and wondered why she was even interested.

He had had his sponsor come in to the hospital to see him, to help him through things. He was planning to go to a meeting every day and keep his blood clean of everything. The only reason Andy Flynn was coming in today was to see the team, to see Sharon. He was still technically on sick leave until the bandages came off from both his injuries.

"Andy?"

He looked around, and realised that he had made a bad choice in coming into work. Brenda was standing at one end of the hallway, wearing black. She looked good, amazing, and Andy would give anything in that moment to be able to hold her and to kiss her. Just lose himself in her like he had done before. But it felt wrong, now, and he just needed her to keep away, for her to get back with Fritz and have a happy ever after with her husband. She deserved better than him.

She ran up to him and although he tried to walk in the opposite direction and lose himself in the corridors of the LAPD, she caught up to him quickly enough. She bit her lip as she approached him, looking over him with a gulp in her throat.

"You look good," she whispered and he laughed in contention, knowing that was anything but the truth.

"I look like shit. But I appreciate the lie."

She took a step forward and he took a step back. She continued to take a step forward and he moved backwards until they were in a deserted corridor of the LAPD and his back was up against the wall. She ran her hand down one side of his face, tracing over the lines, the scar on his chin.

"Look at me, Andy Flynn."

She tucked her hands around his waist, moving her hands up from the bottom of his shirt and pressing her hands against his skin. He hummed as she stroked the breadth of his back. He wanted her so badly, but his guilt was overwhelming. Although she had absolved him of everything Lana did, he still felt like he had caused the pain in her life. He could barely move his hand, but he managed to break one of hers away from his skin.

"Brenda, it's over, okay? It's just…over. Leave me alone. Please."

She moved her hand back over him, pushing towards him. He stammered, he didn't mean it. Did he know how much he had changed her life, how much she wanted him to do it all over again? If her marriage could be torn apart so easily, it wasn't worth having. All she wanted was Andy.

"You're breaking up with me? What, I'm not good in bed compared to some twenty year old arsonist?" she tried to joke, but it didn't work.

He broke their contact, and Brenda realised that Lana had got what she had wanted - the fire was going to break them apart. He waved his hand and pointed at her. "I'm too old for you. I'm broken in to a million pieces, and I can't give you what you need. I'm a drunk."

"So was Fritz! You think that matters, Andy? No, what matters is you want to protect me by pushing me away. We're not Will and Sharon; we haven't got any psycho ex husbands waiting in the wings to show up again. Lana is gone, Fritz doesn't care. The only thing that is standing in the way of us is us!"

Andy shook his head, leaning against the wall. "Fritz was right, what he said."

"I think you're wrong already, but I'm listening. What did Fritz say?"

He laughed at her words before catching himself. "I'm too old for you, I'm so injured I don't know how long it's going to be before I'm back to normal. I may never be as strong as I was before. It kills me when you're out late on a case and I'm not, because I want to be with you all the time. I want to work with you and love you and I can't." He sighed, looking up at her with a slight smile. "You know when we first met I hated you, because I knew if I didn't then I'd fall in love with you. I tried to stop myself, knew it would change everything but I couldn't."

Brenda's eyes shined and he smiled back at her. He reached over and ran his fingers over her cheek. "I don't want to wrap you in cotton wool; I love that you take risks but I want to be there by your side, in case any scumbags decide to mess with you. This was a mistake, we were a mistake. It's ruined everything good we ever had, and now we can't ever go back."

He brushed past Brenda, deciding to go home. He couldn't look at her face, and he knew if he didn't move quickly she would either yell at him or kiss him so hard he'd change his mind. He couldn't handle either.

X

Will was signing the last few sheets of paper when the door to his office opened. He was still in his old office, not having made the transition upwards. By next week he would be in his new office, with new photographs on his desk, old books lining the walls. But first, he had some loose ends to tie up.

"Mr Carpenter, sit down."

Wes sat in front of Will, who was looking upon the scene with interest. Will coughed, signed the last sheet and had his assistant take them away. He pushed back in his chair, looking at Wes. He had called Andrew to get his file, which had made for some interesting bedtime reading.

"Got your file. The real one," Will flipped through the pages in front of him. "Interesting work. Also got Brenda's file while I was at it, Andrew owes me a very big favour. You two worked together quite a lot, you two seem to work well together."

"Well we were friends once upon a time, that helps."

Will nodded, and put the file down on the desk. He looked up and down Wes, and saw a desperate man behind his thin veil of disregard. Will wasn't sure whether his applying for the job was a way to get to Brenda, or something of a new start for him. Will had called in another favour from DC and looked at the crime scene photographs of the massacre previously known as his family home. He could understand the need to protect, to defend, to avenge. He could see a man who was looking for a way to forget that he hadn't been able to achieve for the past fifteen years.

"I need someone who I can trust in this job, I do. I need an Assistant Chief who I can call up at any time; I need an Assistant Chief who cares about the LAPD and its officers enough to devote themselves to it. I need a friend, I need someone who I can trust to have my back and not stick a knife through it."

Wes nodded. Will put Brenda's file on top of his.

"That man was Stephen Mitchell, but unless the new head of Internal Affairs is also a necromancer, I doubt that is going to happen. Plenty of people have applied for the job, tons. I've had people from New York, Chicago, DC, San Francisco, Dallas…everyone wants this job; it's a huge step up. I've had about six applications from the LAPD alone."

"But you're offering me the job," Wes tested the waters and felt a rush of happiness when Will nodded his head. "Thank you…thank you." The sincerity in his voice was real, Will could tell that much.

He moved over to shake the man's hand. Wes pumped it enthusiastically, and Will grinned at seeing a hook pull the darkness out of the man's eyes. "I'll put through the paperwork; you'll have to go to the Academy to make sure you know all the rules and regulations we have as part of the LAPD as you're obviously not coming from another police department. But I'm sure you'll do fine, Wes, and I'm looking forward to having you on board."

"Thank you sir. I know I don't have any experience as a member of the LAPD, but I do have other, valued experience. CIA rejects, we are the best."

Will nodded, and gripped Wes' hand tighter, bringing him into a vice grip. Wes grimaced at the pain. "When I mean rules and regulations for you, I mean this. You lay a hand on Brenda, I will hurt you. Your little vendetta with her and the CIA stops now, if you join the LAPD. Leave it all behind. And if I ever get so much as a hint that you are using your previous agency experience to deal with the bad guys of Los Angeles, my fiancée will fuck you up. We clear, Carpenter?"

He released Wes, who rubbed his wrist. He looked up to Will, who was smiling. Wes nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Suddenly I am looking forward to this job a whole lot more."

Will showed him out, pressing a hand to his shoulder as he left. He sat back at his desk and hoped he wasn't making a mistake. In the paperwork he had gathered on Wes Carpenter, there was one thing that had stuck out. He too had gone into a burning building to save Brenda. Despite whatever else, he had done that.

X

When Gabriel had told her about the arrest, Brenda had shaken herself out of her funk and had immediately rushed to where Brody was being kept. She had dashed across to the Internal Affairs corridor, draped in black and found their interview rooms. She pushed open the door and looked at the monitors. Assistant Chief Julian Brody was sitting there, not a scratch on him.

"I got told you were beating him up!"

The only occupant, Sharon Raydor, snorted. "Not yet. We need you to get a confession out of him, Chief. We can't do it; we're too close to the case. Whatever slime ball lawyer Brody would get would throw it out within seconds." She looked up at the blonde Deputy Chief. "I need you to do this for me, Brenda, please."

Brenda looked at the woman in front of her. They had been enemies ever since they had met, hating each other and the way they worked. But over this summer, Brenda had got to know Sharon by how Will saw her, by how her team reacted to her presence. The pregnant brunette walked forward and reached for the Chief's hand.

"Have you ever had someone that taught you everything you knew? That believed not the best in you, but believed the best you could be? When I started working for Stephen Mitchell, I was angry, I was upset, I pissed off everyone. I was like Claudia, I needed grounding, I needed someone who could take what I was, what I could be and make me into this. Someone who believed in what we were doing. And now he's dead, and I think Brody is responsible and it kills me that everything I have fought for could get ruined by one man. Please, Brenda." She was crying. "Do this here, do this for us."

Brenda nodded and Sharon handed her the notes and she looked them over. She could do this; she could work with Brody and get him to confess. This was what she was here for; this was what the CIA trained her for. Brody had taken away Stephen Mitchell, a man who still had so much to give. A man who was adored by everyone who worked for him. A man who would have been their Assistant Chief.

Sharon smiled at her as she left the office, going outside.

"Chief Brody," Brenda greeted as she opened the door to the Internal Affairs interview rooms and turned towards the Chief. She hated this man more and more by the second. "Do you know why you're here?"

"No idea, those lovely Internal Affairs boys threatened to bring me down in handcuffs - I thought it best just to come along and see what all the fuss was about."

Brenda smiled, deciding to get on with it. "Chief Brody, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you wave your rights?"

Brody started to laugh. "Fine, fine I wave my rights. Just get this over with, Chief Johnson, so you can get back to sucking Pope."

Brenda ignored his words and looked over the sheets of paper in front of her. The notes were extensive; Stephen had certainly done his research into getting Brody sent down for the crimes he had committed. The newspaper article at the end, detailing Sharon's rape and departure from the LAPD, struck a chord with her.

If Julian Brody had never organised Jake Webster's escape, then maybe Jimmy Beattie would have never raped her. Will wouldn't have been a wreck over the summer, she might still be pregnant, Andy wouldn't have left and met Lana. They could have handled the UCLA Killer as a better unit. The hell that they had lived through for the past six months…all of it was because of Julian Brody.

"I don't 'suck' on Chief Pope's anything. I think Commander Raydor has that job now."

Brody laughed. "Yes, I think she does. Ironic, really, isn't it? Little Miss Rules fucking her commanding officer. No one seems to bat an eyelid."

Brenda smiled as she shuffled her papers. "Well, I'm sure someone minds. You know, I got told today that Commander Raydor is going to be the new head of Internal Affairs. A Deputy Chief. I tell you, whoever bumped off Stephen Mitchell did Pope and Raydor a big favour - he didn't have to fire him to put his pillow partner in the position."

Brody's face had grown pale. "She's going to be a Deputy Chief?"

"I know! All the grief people gave me after I came here. I earned my right to be here, all she did was get down on her little two knees," Brenda snarled. "I was starting to like Raydor, but this - this is so damn hypocritical I don't think I can overlook it."

Brody nodded and they both laughed, although Sharon could tell from the surveillance room that Brenda's was put on. Still, it made her shake, and Ian, who had come to watch, wrapped an arm around her to keep her still. This was for the greater good; they needed to get this confession.

Brody had somehow found a kindred spirit after all, and wanted to share his thoughts. "You know, I always wondered whether they were using each other. Raydor was sleeping with Pope to get a higher rank, and he was fucking a rape victim so he could get Chief of Police."

"I think you might be right. Quite a little 'first' couple, aren't they?" Brenda snorted. "You know, I do feel sorry for Mitchell, believing all this crap about them. I got taken in, with tales of how much they loved each other but I know Will, and love is something he just doesn't get. You know, Stephen was investigating you. Well, he told one of his detectives that he was coming over to talk to you."

Brody's eyes blinked furiously and he tried to get ahead of the conversation, remembering that he was still being interviewed. "Oh, god, yes! He came over to my house on Friday night, yelling and shouting about how I was corrupt and how he was going to throw me in jail. He was insane, probably got stabbed tottering home. He smelled like alcohol."

Brenda nodded, and pulled out the crime scene photographs of Stephen Mitchell. Brody didn't balk at the sight of them - his second mistake. His first had been to go to Mitchell's funeral where his family was mourning. Brody looked once more at them, and realised that he was being played. Despite their past, his actions had only made the FID and Major Crimes stronger this summer.

"I didn't kill Stephen Mitchell."

Brenda scoffed, tucking all the photographs away. "You did. You killed him because he presented you with this. Charges of corruption, of selling drugs, of avoiding LAPD protocol when it came to Force Investigations. Even got a statement from Jake Webster saying you helped in his escape. Now, who am I going to believe? The evidence of Stephen Mitchell or your lying face?"

Brody laughed, banging his hands against the table in protest. "She's just a slut! This little insignificant bug that has friends in high places who thinks just because her daddy put a bullet in his brain that she deserves to police us. We don't get paid a lot, we put our lives on the line and we deserve a little respect. But not from her, not from that little slut throwing herself at Pope."

"She turn you down Brody? That why you pushed Jake Webster into escaping? That why you stabbed Stephen Mitchell three times?"

Brody looked like he was going to say something, but Brenda put down a photograph in the middle of the table. "That is a picture of Stephen's grandson. He will never get to know his grandfather, and that is a crime that should have you locked away all on its own."

Brody's shoulders slumped, realising that the evidence was stacked high against him. He turned to Brenda, hoping that Sharon was watching what was going on. "I don't regret it, Chief Johnson. I don't regret stabbing him. Because at the end of the day, I can go to jail, I can die there. But Sharon Raydor can sit on her high horse and know that the reason Mitchell is dead is because he was investigating on behalf of her. She killed him, not me."

Brenda opened the interview room door to let Gabriel and Sanchez drag Brody out of the room. In the corridor stood every IA officer, Claudia and Simon at the end. The look on Brody's face was fear, but no one down that corridor would harm him. He did not deserve the effort.

"Brody."

He turned around and endured a smack in the face from Raydor. He skidded to the floor, blood trickling at the corner of his mouth. She reached over for another hit, but Brenda pulled her back. Gabriel and Sanchez escorted him away, and Sharon broke down in tears. The blonde held onto her best she could.

"You should have let me hurt him."

"While I appreciate the irony, Sharon, you shouldn't lose yourself over him." She found it hard to support the brunette, but she clung on all the same. Eventually Sharon pulled back, tucking her arms around herself. "Stephen wouldn't want that."

Sharon nodded, leaning against the wall. Michael, Eddie and Ian joined her outside the interview room, watching as he was led away. They had caught him, but it didn't make the loss any easier to bear.

Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey.

Lord Byron

She was pacing the psychiatrist's office, waiting for Doctor Leonard to appear. Waiting for Will to appear. She knew she was breaking two of the rules they had set for herself so she would have a healthy last trimester - but they had just arrested Julian Brody for the death of her friend, her mentor, and being stressed and being there were things they were just going to have to deal with.

The door to the office opened, and in stepped Will. He looked a little pale, looked a little guilty. But unless he had stabbed Stephen Mitchell and helped Julian Brody roll him out into the middle of nowhere, then he had nothing to be guilty about. But, still, the look was there and she didn't know why. Doctor Leonard was running a little late, stuck in traffic, so their session would be pushed back half an hour or so. It didn't matter at that moment - Sharon wanted to know why Will was feeling guilty.

"I'm sorry about Stephen. I'm sorry about Brody."

"Thank you, Will." She crossed her arms over her chest, not wanting to look at him. Something felt very wrong, and she didn't want anything to be wrong with her and Will. It wasn't right. "What did you do? What did you know?" She came out with it, not wanting to deal with petty small talk, even if she loved the man. She was fragile, and all she wanted was for him to hold her, not confess to conspiracy.

"I knew Stephen was investigating Brody, well, I suspected. But I didn't think Brody was capable of this - this is murder, all the other charges are…he'll go down for years, Sharon, he'll never get out of jail. The DA will see to that."

She sat down in one of the seats that they used for therapy, and looked at the man she loved. "Did you know he was investigating on behalf of me?"

"I suspected."

Sharon started to cry. Will immediately went by her side, trying to comfort her but she pushed his arms away. She backed away to the window, not wanting to look at him. "How am I supposed to go see his family? To even talk to them, offer my condolences, when I'm the reason he's dead? How the hell am I supposed to look his grandson in the eye, knowing that I'm the reason he doesn't have a grandfather?"

Will shook his head, rubbing his hands desperately over his face. "Stephen considered you a daughter, he considered all four of you his kids; you were so close. He would have died for any one of you. Sharon, Brody stabbed him. Brody stuck a knife in his gut and dumped him. You didn't ask for Stephen to investigate, you didn't ask Stephen to look after his own. You know, in your heart, that you would do the same for your team, because they're family."

Sharon nodded, still upset with the day's events. "Brenda was provoking him and Brody was saying all these things…about me sleeping with you to be a Deputy Chief, that you are with me because dating a rape victim makes you look good to the Mayor."

Will hobbled over and reached for her hand. It was a little raw from where she had punched Brody. He kissed her knuckles, kissed the engagement ring on her finger. "Brody is a bastard, a sociopath. He doesn't know us. We'll get through this, I promise you."

"I'm just tired of losing people I love, Will. People keep leaving me, or I keep leaving them."

He kissed her lightly on the lips. "I will never leave you. I will always be by your side. I would say till death do us part, but even then we'll be together."

The door opened behind them and Doctor Leonard came through. "Sorry I'm late, Chief, Commander. I hear it's been an eventful day. How about we sit down and talk about it all?"

Will gestured for Sharon to go in front of him as they sat down, and he held her hand as they turned to Doctor Leonard. He hoped these sessions were helping, and not making her miserable. They were helping him understand her and hopefully helping her understand him a little better. Sharon started filling them in about what had happened with Brody that day, Doctor Leonard listening intently.

She made one note during her session with the engaged couple - never did they stop holding hands.

X

She didn't want to go back to her hotel room alone, she didn't want to just sit there and think about what might have been. Brenda had been running through scenarios of what her life could have been like had Julian Brody not interfered, and she realised it didn't matter what could have happened, it had, and she needed to get back the life she wanted, which was with Andy Flynn. Brenda knocked on his hotel door, waiting to talk to him. Whether he wanted to talk to her was another matter entirely, but she needed to.

The door eventually opened, and Andy realised it was her. "Don't close the door."

"There's nothing more to say, Chief."

He moved to close the door, and Brenda smacked it with her hand, immediately pain ricocheting through her skin. "I just had to arrest Julian Brody for Stephen's murder. I just had to stop Sharon from smacking him down like the hand of God. I also had to hold her hair back while she threw up. Please, don't close the door."

The irony of the similar words from a similar woman made him open the door, pain written all over his face. The summer had begun with a woman asking him to open the door, to let his life back in. He realised he didn't want to close it.

"She okay?"

"She's fine."

Brenda stuck her foot in between it and forced herself into the room. He shook his head and went to lie down on his bed. Brenda looked around the room, at how Spartan it was. He had no belongings anymore, all of it was gone. Everything except the people he loved, who he was trying to push away.

"You know I was trained by the CIA to interview people. Well, actually, I worked for the Agency for seven years. I tortured people for a living."

Shock ran over his face, but he didn't shrink back in horror, just kept looking at her. She brushed a blonde strand behind her ear and walked over to where Andy was laying and knelt down beside him. He didn't move, for which she was grateful. "I understand pain, Andy. I've seen people's heads in water for hours; I've seen people shocked until they give a right answer. I've broken people with a few words. I get pain; I'm hurting as well, Andy. People keep slipping out of my fingers and I don't like it."

"Stroh."

Brenda sighed. "He'll always be on my back, like Hanson was for you. One day, I hope, he'll come back and I'll get to deal with him all over again. I need you, by my side, Andy. I'll drag you out of this hotel room, tie our hands together…" She kept saying the wrong things, and she knew it. "You said we were a mistake, and I understand you thinking that because we worked so well together and it was natural that we'd fall in love. I always knew I'd fall in love with you, somehow I knew."

Flynn used his better hand to bring her lips down for a bruising kiss. They kissed until their lips hurt; their necks ached, until all they could think about was skin on skin contact. Eventually they broke apart, and Andy looked at her in sorrow.

"I love you, Brenda. Honest to god, I love you."

Brenda moved between his legs and rested her body against his chest. She was still wearing his ring around her neck on a chain, and he fiddled with the weight of the silver. Andy rested a battered arm loosely around her waist, enjoying how she felt against him. He kissed her forehead, wondering where they would go from there. He thought for a moment before he looked down to see that Brenda had fallen asleep in his arms. A tear dripped down onto her hair.

"We could never be a mistake."

X

"It has been a very emotional year, hell; it's been a very emotional month," Will Pope began as he addressed the gathering of officers in front of the new building. "But it is my duty as Chief of Police to make sure we get through this the best that we can, and grow stronger in the process."

It wasn't so much a press conference, although there were cameras gathered to hear the speech that Will was presenting. Everyone was dressed in their uniform, civilian staff dressed in suits. Will was wearing his uniform, the four stars gleaming on his collar. Behind him was Wes Carpenter, wearing his own uniform and three stars. He looked a little uncomfortable, but Sharon noted that he had Will's back as he gazed the crowd. She was happy that Wes had taken the job; after all he had saved her life. But it hit her hard that it wasn't Stephen standing there.

The first row of people was the remaining Assistant Chief's and Deputy Chiefs. Brenda was standing there, hair coiled into a bun with her uniform pressed. Taylor was standing with them, representing Robbery/Homicide, as had been Will's wish. He was standing next to her, resisting the urge to reach for her hand to make sure she was steady. She didn't want to be there herself; she was still pregnant and not as strong as she should be. But she knew that despite everything she needed to be there for Internal Affairs, and they appreciated what she represented. She was wearing what she had worn to Stephen's funeral, with her Commander star clipped to her cardigan - she knew that Will's eyes turned to her most of all, making sure she was okay.

"We have lost an amazing man. No one could ever replace Stephen Mitchell, and no one would ever try. He is survived by the incredible Internal Affairs department we have here, the strongest in the country. I am extremely proud of the dedication, and the resilience of the men and women of Internal Affairs, who have been struck with many blows over the course of this year."

She turned around to see her four boys: Andy, Michael, Ian and Eddie. With the rest of Internal Affairs, they were wearing their uniforms with black and red armbands. They would do so until a new department head would officially go into effect, although Sharon was unsure whether she would ever stop wearing her colours.

Andy couldn't stop looking at Brenda, and Claudia had mentioned to her that he was thinking of transferring back to Major Crimes. She didn't know how their relationship was, although both seemed preoccupied with other things than Will's speech. No doubt Sharon would find out soon enough.

Taylor joined in where she was looking, and saw that Major Crimes and FID were standing together, looking at the officers assembled with a smile. Even Ross was standing with them, which made Taylor grin. Although they were missing Stephen, everyone was where they were supposed to be.

"As your Chief, I am going to try and make this transition period as swift, and as painless as possible. I have amazing respect for our previous Chief, Wendell Berrill. I shall continue on his legacy, I shall try and make this department stronger, and the police department that this city deserves. With our new Assistant Chief Wes Carpenter, we will renew our efforts; renew our relationships within the department, and come together to better serve this city."

Brody was in prison, his guilty plea throwing death penalty out the window, but he had no chance of parole. Sam had once again disappeared after he had been released the night of the fire. Lana's death was classed accidental, although there was a thought abroad in the department that their new Assistant Chief may have had something to do with it. Brenda was working harder than ever, still living out of a hotel and avoiding Carpenter the best she could. All the Internal Affairs paperwork was delivered to their house, and her four Captains came over for meetings unbeknownst to Will.

"It has been a tough road, and it will continue to be a tough road ahead. But the thin blue line outside this door is unbreakable, and that is what we need to remember, in the face of all adversity that comes our way. We are together, united by our love for this job, our love of each other, and our love of this city that we have pledged our lives to protect. Thank you very much, and God speed."

As Will came down from the podium, followed by Wes, he smiled at Sharon. She smiled back, thinking on his words. They were together, in every sense of the word. They were unbreakable, whatever came their way, and it pleased Sharon that things were finally slotting into place.

"Come on, we're going to O'Malley's," Taylor whispered in her ear as the assembled officers broke rank.

As Taylor led the way, the combined teams of Major Crimes and FID headed for a drink to toast the start of a new beginning, a new era at the LAPD. They were together, the thin blue line no longer hiding but out in front, standing side by side. A force to be reckoned with.

Claudia and Simon joined her as they walked, Tony chatting with Tao about their kids. Brenda and Flynn kept shooting each other glances, trying hard to keep their mind focussed on other things. Sanchez and Gabriel seemed intent on passing on stories to Tommy, who had just arrived. Wes jointed their party, and was talking surveillance equipment with Buzz and Taylor. Sharon waved at Eddie, Michael and Ian, as they went to celebrate with their own departments.

Provenza was watching all of them with interest, the smile on his face disgustingly prominent. He glanced at Flynn just as he once again ducked his gaze from the Chief's, and he shook his head.

"Why are we going to a bar anyway? We've got a member of AA and a pregnant Commander."

"They do soft drinks, knuckle head."

"Oh don't make me start on you Flynn; your Captain badge only makes me want to hit you harder."

The teams laughed, and Claudia and Simon went onwards to pull apart the arguing duo. Sharon stopped as she felt a hand go around her waist and left the two teams head onwards. Will looked at her and shook his head, laughing. Things were different now, too many things had happened. But despite all they had lived through, and the new truce they had built together, some things never changed.

Looking into the love she could see in Will's eyes, she was glad they never did.

LA Times, 30th October 2010 [page 5]

New LAPD Chief Will Pope and his fiancée Commander Sharon Raydor are pleased to announce the birth of their first child, beautiful baby girl Andie Michaela Pope. She was born on the 29th October, weighing 6lbs and 5oz. Her parents and the rest of the LAPD are said to be smitten with the new bundle, who is said to have her father's blue eyes.