Hi everyone! So, I owe you all a huge apology, as promises were made and promises did not get fulfilled. I'll admit I was in way over my head accepting a double major in University, balancing a part-time job, and family life, and trying to find free time to write on top of that. (I ended up quitting my job and still didn't find enough time to study!) Anyways, the term is over now, and I am on my Christmas holidays for the next 2 weeks. On top of all the rest of my New Years resolutions, contributing to this story more often is definitely a priority! I am going to do my best to update as often as I can this break and as the term begins, as well. I won't make any promises though. But, know more is always coming until I say it isn't. I WON'T give up! That I DO promise. :)

Anyways, I made this one extra long to try to make up for it and begin to heal some of your wounds. I truly apologize and I hope you forgive me!

Nicky leaned back in the driver's seat, as he reached his hand into the McDonald's bag for another fistful of fries. He was having trouble containing his anxiousness and the only thing that distracted him seemed to be a focus on his hunger.

"You better slow down there, partner. Your face is starting to bulge out of your collar. You look like Elmer Fud." Chris snorted.

Nicky took another slurp of his soda and rolled his eyes. "Hilarious. Can we focus here, please? You know this is why I hate doing stakeouts with you."

"You're one to talk! Do you have to take a piss or something? Your leg hasn't stopped shaking since we left the precinct. You're making the whole car vibrate!"

"I'm anxious. Being cooped up in a car with you stresses me out!"

Chris scoffed. "You love stake outs with me."

"I do?" Nicky put his drink in the cup holder and turned to face his friend. "And how exactly, in your demented mind, do you come to that conclusion?"

"Because we bond," Chris said confidently, as if he had decided this after a long and close analysis. "In any other situation you'd find some reason to run away and not talk about what's bothering you, but when you can't leave the car for hours, you share, Nicholas! You share your feelings and you feel better."

Nicky almost burst out laughing. Instead, he shook his head and positioned himself properly behind the wheel. "You should've been a shrink, my friend."

"Thank you." Chris mocked. "I'm not certified, but I am a great listener."

Nicky held his breath. He knew this was coming. He knew that if he had any other profession he would have thought seriously about calling in sick to work in order to avoid this awkward conversation. It'd been months and Chris had held his tongue. He was bound to explode at some point and Nicky knew that he was due for it.

"So, when you're ready—"

"Just, shut up! You are so cocky, it isn't funny. You wanna ask me something, then you go right ahead, brother. Enough of this beating around the bush; let's get this over with." It seemed that Nicky was due to explode himself.

"Get this over with?" It was Chris' turn to reposition in his excitement. "I've been waiting for 6 months for you to explain to me why the hell you never told me you were raped as a kid. And you know what, I guess I've been waiting since high school for you to tell me that it ever happened! Are you really telling me now that you're still not ready to talk about it?"

Nicky was speechless. He was angry, but he also found a new feeling of sickness inside him that he hadn't noticed moments before. It was guilt weighing in his stomach and in response, he grew angrier at having to feel it.

"Was Shawn the first person you ever told?"

Nicky's eyes remained fixed on the parked car in front of them, though a glaze drew over them and he saw only the memories that threatened his contentment. "Yes."

"No one else knew?"

"No one."

"You're a hypocrite."

Nicky removed his eyes from the car and blinked hard in order to survey his partner. He didn't appear angry, nowhere near upset enough to attack him with those words like he did. He said it like it were a matter of fact.

Nicky agreed. "I know."

Chris looked back at him with his dark eyes full of what Nicky thought was sadness.

Nicky's own eyes filled with moisture and a burning resentment at the fact that he was being sympathized. He looked away, wishing, as he had found himself doing lately, that he were never assigned Shawn's case. "You know, I'm not happy about it."

Chris cleared his throat. "Never met a victim who was."

"I'm not a victim!" He felt violated by Chris' accusations. He didn't understand what he was feeling, conflicted with the telltale denial that he witnessed abuse victims putting up every day and the knowledge of his trying to distance himself from that margin.

"You were a victim, Nick." Chris leaned back and Nicky could tell he was in a conflict of his own. It was between reaching out as if he'd been wanting to and struggling not to treat his partner like he would a complaining victim. "This is surely one place your pride doesn't belong."

Suddenly, there was pelting off the top of the car and it wasn't until then that Nicky noticed it had been raining.

He didn't want to fight about it. He didn't want to talk about it. He certainly didn't want to relive it. He had a few reasons, but he knew that it was all mainly because he didn't know how. He didn't know how he'd react. He didn't want to know.

"You know what? I get that you don't want to talk to me. I know that I'm the last person you'd want to share your feelings with, but you need to talk to someone. Keeping it inside isn't healthy.

Nicky eyed his partner again, it taking all of his strength to feel anger over the numbing anguish that dominated him. "Why don't you tell me what you're really trying to say?"

And there was the look: the look of sympathy, one that shouted of reliability and trustworthiness. The one that wasn't meant for a fellow detective, but a poor, suffering victim. "A shrink wouldn't be that bad of an idea, Nick."

Nicky could feel his nerve crumbling there before him. "Tell me what you're really trying to say!"

Chris had had it. "How can you do the job if you're sick? You're traumatized! You need to work through this!" He paused long enough to take a breath and lower his voice. "What if the Captain found out? What then?"

"I don't know, Chris. I guess you'll find out when you tell him."

Chris growled. "This is my ass, too! If anything goes wrong, who do you think they're gonna look to?"

Nicky narrowed his eyes, thinking. "So, I'm not competent? That's what you're saying?"

Chris grabbed Nicky's arm with a jolt, which shook the car. He could hear his heart pounding, though his voice was calm. "Don't even think about it, man. You are not blowing this."

He had read him. He saw him reaching for the latch on the door, before Nicky realized it himself or thought a second about it.

"Don't be stupid." Chris stretched his arm across Nicky and pulled his partner's hand back, dropping it in his lap. Grabbing the seatbelt from over Nicky's left shoulder, he yanked it down and buckled it around him. "Don't forget we're not alone. Martinez and Fitz are right down the block. I don't want them seeing you running off, do you? Just relax, brother. It'll be over soon."

It was as if his confusion were controlling him. His body was shaking and the feeling of sickness in his stomach became indicative of fear. He feared he was breaking down, as he found comfort in his friend taking control.

After a few minutes, Nicky had collected his thoughts enough to speak. "I haven't slept in days." He admitted, feeling like he owed him an explanation.

Chris had his elbow resting on the sill of the car window. He rubbed his eyes with his large fingers and released a long breath, which Nicky thought was to be his only response. He then reached for Nicky and grasped his shoulder tightly. "I know." He didn't look at him. He appeared agitated and Nicky began to regret even entertaining the possibility of answering Chris' questions.

He ran his hands through his hair, releasing a loud groan. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have said anything. God damn it!"

His hand still on Nicky's shoulder, Chris gave him a reassuring squeeze, finally looking at him. "Nick, it's okay, you've been in this car all day. You're tired, you're anxious, it's fine. You're just bugging out."

"No, man! I'm such an idiot. What the hell was I… God, what was I thinking?" He was having trouble breathing and he could feel the sweat on his back, dampening his shirt. He didn't know what it was he was feeling, but what he knew was that he was going to lose it if he had to sit there any longer. "I gotta get out of here, man."

Chris tore Nicky's hand away from the door again. This time Nicky was aware of his fingers wrapping around the latch. "Nicky. Nicky, breathe! Now's not the time for a panic attack, okay? This is your collar. You wanna get these guys, right? People are gathering for the service now, those fuckers will be here any minute and then we can get out of here. Just breathe, bud."

Eyeing the streets around them through the windshield, Chris reached over Nicky and cranked the window down an inch. He leaned back into his seat, but kept his arm out over Nicky's chest.

"Chr-Chris, I can't!" His breathing hitched, as he unfastened his collar. "They probably won't even show. You'd have to be stupid to…" He cut himself off and wiped his face with trembling hands.

"Enough!" Chris took the distraught man's collar in both hands. "Nick, if you don't relax, I'm gonna have to knock you out! You can do this. You didn't tell me anything. I won't tell anyone, but if we miss arresting these fucks, I don't wanna have to lie! So, pull yourself the fuck together, damn it!" He slammed him back against the seat and released him.

Nicky cleared his throat and readjusted his shirt. His breath evened slightly, but his heart continued pounding away. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"It's alright! I just need you to calm down. Here." He said. He pulled the lever beside the driver's seat and it angled backward. "Just lay back. Relax. I'll take care of this."

Nicky felt like a child. He couldn't explain his outburst. He couldn't even name the emotion he was feeling. "Thanks," he choked, though he wasn't sure if he was actually appreciative.

Chris didn't move his eyes from the river front, where a dozen people were gathered. He was focussed, which was something that, in that moment, Nicky didn't understand. "You haven't freaked out like that since the tenth grade. You remember that?"

Nicky thought. He was talking about the time the two of them were hauled into the Vice Principal's office for forging their report cards. He chuckled. "That wasn't my fault. You told me they were gonna arrest us."

Chris smiled. "I thought they were! My sister told me it was a federal offense. How was I supposed to know she was messing with me?"

"I don't know, but she did grow up and become a lawyer, so that should tell you something." He smiled, wiping his eyes and forehead on his sleeve. "Oh, I was a blubbering mess."

"You had your reasons."

"I meant just now."

"You have your reasons."

Chris was stunted by his partner's outburst. He had never seen him lose his cool like that. Not since they'd grown up. And not since they'd become cops. Now, caught in a situation where they could both lose their badges if someone were to find out, Chris had every reason to contain the situation in any way he knew how.

They were trained on treating erratic behaviour in the academy. Of course, it was always to do with a prisoner and not your partner, who was behind the wheel, staking out in a tiny Ford Taurus for 8 hours, waiting to make an arrest. It wasn't like they were in a police cruiser, where he could just stick him in the back and at least he couldn't get out or hurt himself. Even then, neither of them could get out without being made. Not only would they blow their cover, but they would send a heads up to Martinez and Fitz that something was up, blowing their second cover. Chris was running out of options.

"I feel like this conversation is going in circles." Nicky responded minutes later, Chris almost forgetting what they were talking about.

Chris rolled his eyes, feeling that the chances of him giving Nicky a smack had soared. "I just meant that I don't blame you, alright? Just forget it."

He looked Nicky over, wondering how he hadn't seen this episode coming just based on the guy's appearance. His clothes were wrinkled from head to toe, like he'd rolled out of bed wearing them. His hair was too long, curling out behind his ears like a teenager's would. He hadn't shaved in weeks and dark shadows under his eyes told him why.

He shook his head. "I'm a good cop."

"I know you are, Nicky! The best! But right now, you are not well. You can't expect to do this job with no sleep. You know that better than anyone." Chris turned his attention back toward the street in front of him and saw the two other detectives getting out of the car. "Shit," Chris muttered, grabbing the keys from the ignition and pocketing them.

"Was that them? What the hell?" Nicky sat forward, for a third time grasping the latch on the door.

Chris put a hand on his chest and pushed him back, gently. "Nooo… It's okay. I told you I got this, partner. Just relax for just a few more minutes and then we'll get you out of here, capiche?"

"Chris! No, I'm fine. What are you gonna tell—?"

"Sh-sh-sh. It's alright. Just stay in the car and don't move. Got it?" Chris opened his door and jumped out. Before taking off down the street, he bent down and glared into Nicky's glazed eyes. "Do NOT get out of this car!"

He started sprinting toward the small gathering of people, slowing to a light jog as he crossed the street. They were all dressed in black, but none of them looked to be older than 25. Some wake, Chris thought as he neared closer.

Martinez and Fitz seemed not to be in need of either of them. All three suspects were lying face down on the sidewalk, their arms and legs spread. Fitz held his gun pointed strong, waving off bystanders, while Martinez searched them.

"Looks like you don't need me at all!" He tried not to sound angry.

"Where's Nicky? This is his collar, man!" Fitz was staring past him, as if expecting Nicky to come up behind him.

Chris rubbed his neck, thinking fast. "He got a migraine. Can't see. He's in the car."

They both looked at him.

"Sucks." Martinez said, slapping a guy's knee as he leaned over him. "I said spread 'em, boy, and I meant it!"

Boy was right. With a closer look, Chris realized that all three suspects barely looked legal. They were all above 20, but they were small and he felt that if he didn't know what they'd done, he might've had sympathy on them. But he knew. They were rapists and deserved nothing less than needles in their arms.

Chris patted down the last one and once each were bound with zip ties, he was dragging a skinny, smart ass down the street to the car.

"You're only taking one, so you can have this one." Martinez had said, wrestling with the kid who had just called him a 'cholo'.

Chris smirked, taking the kid roughly by the back of the neck. "Sure, we'll see if he can come up with one about the trailer trash who goes for a ride with a black guy and an Italian."

Reaching the car, he unlocked the back door with the keys and shoved the boy in. "Meet Detective Nicholas Adams. Boy, you'd be sorry if he were me, right now." He saw that Nicky was watching them in the rear-view. "Carl Goodwin." Chris said pointing at him and then slamming the back door shut.

He pressed his lips together, feeling guilty for what he knew he must do. He knocked on the driver's window.

Nicky stared at him, with a look that grew colder the longer he hesitated.

Chris motioned him with his finger. "Slide over." He said, waiting until Nicky had his legs on the passenger's side before he opened the door.

Hope you liked it!

Missed you guys! Tell me what's new in your lives. Oh, and what you think of this chapter :)

More is coming...!

Much love,

Meghan. xoxoxoxoxo