The blood was everywhere. It had splattered all over the front of her dress, up against her neck and to the underside of her jaw. Droplets currently clung thickly to her cheeks as well.

The knife was slick in her hand. It should have threatened to drop as her body shook uncontrollably, but it didn't. The weapon seemed glued to her skin.

No. This wasn't happening.

"But it is Gillian." Finn stood several feet away, his white teeth bared in an animalistic greeting, his hands in the pockets of his overcoat. "How did it feel?"

She shook her head, knowing that she couldn't currently form words, knowing that it didn't even matter. He seemed to be reading her thoughts.

"Empowering isn't it?" He stepped closer. Oddly enough, he made no noise. The floor of the forest should have announced him but it was silent. Not a single rustle or crack of a dry branch.

"Go away."

"No Gillian. You don't want that." He stopped a few feet away, looking down at her. "You need guidance. Especially now."

"What are you talking about?"

He blinked, tilting his head slightly. "You're all alone you silly woman. He's gone. You killed him."

Her eyes wide, she stared up at him. There was another presence near her but she hadn't allowed her mind to wrap itself around the knowledge. It was attempting to protect her from the truth but Finn was now pointing it out with another flash of his canines.

"Look Gillian. You have to look or you won't accept the truth of what you've done…or what you are."

"No."

The smile fell away as anger twisted through the man's features. "Look… or I'll make you look." His words were soft but filled with malice.

"I…can't."

He was suddenly behind her, his fingers cruelly digging in to the back of her neck. "You can."

Twisting, she tried to move away, her shock subsiding as she started to cry. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Finn was unrelenting. He crouched next to her, his face close enough that she could feel his hot breath. "Look Gillian! God damnit, look!" Shaking her roughly, he tried to push her head down. "Open your eyes and look!" He was screaming in her ear now.

Her eyes barely cracked open just before the wail erupted from her throat.

(BREAK)

The scream died on her lips as her eyes flew open to familiar surroundings.

One hand gently cradled the side of her face, while another rubbed her arm. "You okay?" His voice was just a murmur.

She wildly looked around before she fastened her gaze on Cal, the warmth and concern on his face immediately calming her. Taking a deep breath, she ran a trembling hand over her face before nodding. The disorientation was passing as her memory kicked in. That's right. She'd gone into work with him, hit a wall of fatigue in the middle of the afternoon and crashed out on the couch in his study. The nightmare had been waiting for her though, skulking in the depths of her mind and looking for a weak moment.

"Did you make an appointment?" His eyes were searching hers.

"Um…"

He let out a sigh but continued to rub her arm. "You, of all people, know how important this is." A tiny smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sure you don't want me to pick a shrink for you, 'cause I will if I have to."

"Please don't." Gillian pulled herself into a sitting position as he rocked back on his heels. "I will. I promise."

"Uh huh."

"Really."

"Okay." Cal pushed himself up and lowered himself onto the couch next to her. "Do it now and I'll drive you myself."

"Now?" She opened her mouth to contest.

"Now." His arm had looped around her shoulders, pulling her into him. "Nightmares pretty bad, yeah?"

She paused as a tremor passed through her. "Yeah."

"Then what are you waitin' for?"

Shaking her head wordlessly, her eyes dropped to her hands and watched them tremble. Clasping them together, she unconsciously dug her nails in, forming little half moons.

"I know how hard it is darlin'." His lips were against her ear. "But you have this option. You have what I didn't have." She closed her eyes, feeling his kiss on her temple. "Please talk to someone."

Turning, she opened her eyes and caught his gaze, seeing the sadness and torment lurking in the hazel depths. It made her heart break just a little and she found herself nodding. "I'll go back to my office and look a couple of people up. I'm sure I can call in some favors."

The little smile didn't quite reach his eyes but he leaned forward and softly kissed her, paused and kissed her again, feeling her fingers thread through his hair. Years of furtive glances, submerged feelings pent up behind a now crumbling dam made his need almost painful. "Love you." The more he said it, the easier it became, the more he wanted to say it.

"Love you too." Her voice was soft against his lips.

"I'd better go." He made no move to do so. "The bane of Loker's existence is waiting for me." Cal kissed her again regardless, this time a little harder. She returned it, a little tremble running through her and this time it wasn't from fear.

With difficulty, she pulled her lips away and gave him a gentle push. "Go talk to Mrs. Douglas before Loker rams his head into the nearest wall."

"Might be worth it." He lowered his mouth to her neck and she gave a low gasp.

"Cal…" Gillian's voice was barely a whisper but still held a thread of warning.

"Okay, fine." He moved away reluctantly. "Let me take care of this and you do what you need to do." His gaze became insistent.

She nodded slowly, watching him as he turned and slipped out the pocket door that separated his study from his office.

(BREAK)

When the phone rang he answered without thought, expecting Emily to be checking in with him. Instead it was a slightly raspy voice that was instantly familiar. Cal stopped in the middle of the hallway, almost causing a pileup of employees who were scurrying to and fro. They darted around him, used to his erratic behavior.

"Dr. Lightman?"

Cal's throat felt dry as anger rose in the back like bile. "Is there a reason you're callin' me?"

"I wanted to speak with you."

"Now why would I want that?"

Bainbridge Senior hadn't expected anything different. He knew he didn't have any right to any kind of courtesy. "How is Dr. Foster?"

"How do you think she is?" Cal snapped. "As much as I'm enjoying this little chat, I have things to do."

"I wanted to apologize."

Cal almost dropped the phone before his fingers curled around it so tightly he felt that he might crush it. He didn't say anything.

"I wanted to apologize for my poor judgment."

"Are you fuckin' serious?" Cal's voice was a low hiss. "You hire some goons to abduct and drug me to keep me from testifying and then you practically plate Foster and me up to your psycho son and you're apologizing?" He fought the sudden urge to laugh. The idea of what this old man was saying was so absurd.

"That wasn't supposed to happen."

"Really? You've been protecting your rabid dog of a son for years and it never occurred to you it was eventually goin' to hit the fan? It never occurred to you that eventually he was goin' to have to pay for the things he'd done? I tell ya, if you had just allowed me to testify and put him away in the first place, he wouldn't have paid with his life."

This time the old man was quiet for several long moments before he spoke again. "I make no claim to say that everything I did was right. In fact it's quite the opposite. But I will say this: Finn was my son. My flesh and blood. As a father, all I wanted was for him to be successful and happy but early on I knew there was something wrong. He was never going to be the son that I wanted him to be. Nonetheless, he was still my child. I know you're a father as well. What would you have done in my place? Would you have done everything you could to protect your daughter?"

"Protecting is one thing. Allowing them to make mistakes is one thing. But making excuses and turning a blind eye while your child purposely hurts others is an entirely different matter. The blood that Finn spilled in not just on his hands but on yours as well."

Cal could hear rushed breathing on the other end as he waited.

"You're right Dr. Lightman. I know you're right, but it doesn't really matter anymore does it? My boy is dead and your colleague killed him. I think he had it coming…actually I know he had it coming but the pain is…so intense. I can't even tell you, but it all falls back on me. I wake up several times a night shaking and in a cold sweat because of what I've done, what I've allowed to happen and I just wanted to say that I was sorry."

The old man was looking for closure and didn't know how else to go about it. Cal sighed heavily and leaned against the wall. A tiny part of him felt a pang of compassion but the anger and horror of what had occurred trumped it many times over. He couldn't give the old man what he needed. "Was there anythin' else you wanted Mr. Bainbridge?"

Cal heard an intake of breath before the tone of voice became one of deep regret. "Be well Dr. Lightman." With that the connection was broken.

He stared at his phone for a moment before sticking it back in his pocket. He really wished he'd never answered it.