All recognisable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just borrowing for my own pleasure... and pain?
This story is inspired by the song "All I Know So Far" by Pink. It is high angst, high emotion, and I would say there is a strong tissue warning (for later chapters at least).

All I Know So Far

Chapter 1

Hal was on Monitor duty, doing his due diligence and focusing all his attention on the screens in front of him. He'd already been given two warnings for negligent behaviour. Once when he'd managed to overlook a robbery taking place in full view of cameras, and once for falling asleep on the job. He knew he was skating on thin ice, so he couldn't afford any stupid mistakes today, especially given the mood that had settled over Tank recently. The man simply was not built for being couped up in the office all day, but with Ranger out of the country on a government sanctioned mission, it had turned into his reality. Everyone was doing their best not to add fuel to his fire, but as the days wore on into weeks, he became more and more volatile, likely to spontaneously combust at any moment and take out any Rangeman employee who had the misfortune of being in the general vicinity when he blew.

So, Hal's eyes were glued to the screens, his headset positioned properly, and his hands poised over the keyboard despite the fact that things had been quiet so far. As he watched, Steph's baby-shit brown POS car entered the parking garage and pulled into the space that Ranger had banned everyone from using so that it would always be free for her. Hal was pretty sure the only thing stopping Ranger from officially declaring it her space and putting her name on it was the fact that Steph's pride wouldn't allow him to give her such a prestigious position. She would view it as favouritism and demand to be given a park further away if she was going to get one assigned to her. And she'd probably be right, but it wasn't just Ranger who favoured the infamous Bombshell Bounty Hunter.

Ever since Ranger had brought her into their orbit, first by assigning a protective tail and later by offering her a position on the team, the Rangemen had been mad about her. Even the most hardened of their ranks had shown weakness where Stephanie Plum was concerned. Nobody wanted to see her get hurt, and everybody dreaded the inevitable day she woke up and realised that spending her days with men like them wasn't what she wanted from life and ditched them all completely.

It was only a matter of time until the on-again, off-again thing with the cop got stuck in the on-again phase and she was lost to them. No way would Joseph Morelli allow Steph to maintain a friendship with the men he'd openly referred to as thugs on numerous occasions.

On the monitor, Steph's movements were slow and lethargic as she pressed the button for the elevator, waited thirty seconds for it to arrive and then stepped inside, using her key fob to the select the seventh floor before leaning against the wall, head tipped back and eyes closed. She looked exhausted, but didn't appear to be injured, and there was no sign of her customary unidentifiable mess on any part of her body.

Hal wasn't sure what had brought her to Rangeman, but he knew the protocol. Steph shows up, you contact Ella to provide a meal and make either Ranger, or, if he was out of contact, the core team aware of her presence upstarirs. Ranger had declared that she was free to come and go as she pleased, which Hal thought was rather generous of a mand as private as Ranger, but then he figured, anything he didn't want Steph snooping in he kept in an undisclosed location that may or may not come in the form of a secret, private residence.

Unclipping his phone from his belt, Hal ensured Binkie was covering all the screens for him before averting his gaze to shoot of a couple of texts: one to Ella, and one each to Tank, Lester and Bobby. With that done, and Steph safely ensconced within the unmonitored walls of Ranger's inner sanctum, Hal returned his attention to the rest of the monitors, determined to do his job and avoid being called for a disciplinary hearing in the gym.

He was vaguely aware of Ella entering the seventh floor with a tray of food and exiting several minutes later, and assumed that with the food delivered, she had returned to her regular duties around the building. Which is why Hal nearly shit his pants when a gentle hand was laid on his shoulder.

"Miss Ella!" he exclaimed, his voice pitched unusually high thanks to his shock. Binkie was snickering beside him, but made a hand gesture to assure Hal that he had the monitors covered so he could focus on whatever the house keeper wanted.

"Forgive my interruption," Ella apologised, lowering her hand and stepping back away. "Tank is in a meeting and Bobby and Lester are both out on patrol…" Hal nodded for her to continue. It wasn't unusual for messages to be passed on to the core team via the monitors shift given the lack of secretary or personal assistant. "There's something wrong with Miss Plum."

Hal's spine stiffened, and he sensed Binkie's do the same as his entire body was put on red alert. "Wrong how?"

"She's sitting at the dining room table in the dark just staring at the wall. I tried to ask if she's all right, but she didn't seem to hear me."

He was out of his chair in an instant, monitors be damned. Tank could call him to the mats every day for the rest of his life for abandoning his post, but he wasn't about to let Steph suffer through whatever had befallen her life this time alone. "Binkie, get Patrol C to do an emergency donut run, and call Bobby back in." Spotting Junior exiting the stairwell, Hal pointed at him with a stiff arm. "Junior, interrupt Tank's meeting. We've got a code blue."

"Location?" Junior asked, standing at attention as Hal hurried around the bank of monitors toward the stairwell.

"Seven." He paused at the door and caught Ella in his sights once more. She was still standing beside the chair he'd just vacated. "You're with me," he commanded. "I need you to let me into the apartment."

She nodded and hurried to follow behind him as he turned, released the door and started taking the stairs two at a time. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. Something was wrong with Bomber. And not the usual 'she's gotten herself in over her head' something. The physical danger they could deal with no worries, but this did not sound like physical danger they were dealing with.

Ella used her fob to unlock the door, stepping aside for Hal to enter and pointing in the direction of the dining room where she'd said Steph was. Ordinarily, entering Ranger's apartment without permission like this would be an automatic death sentence. In fact, as far as Hal was aware, the only Rangeman employees apart from Steph, Ella and her handyman husband who had ever set foot beyond the foyer on the seventh floor were Tank, Bobby and Lester. But this was a Bomber emergency, and Hal wasn't about to sit idly by and wait for the core team to make themselves available to deal with it. Steph was his friend, too, and he couldn't bear the thought that she was having some kind of break down all alone in Ranger's dark apartment.

Not bothering to look around to appease the niggling curiosity at what Ranger's space was like, Hal made a bee line for the doorway Ella had indicated and stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of Steph. It was so much worse than Ella had described. Sat in the chair just to the right of the head of the table, her knees were pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around her knees as she stared blankly ahead, tears silently tracking down her cheeks.

Moving slowly, Hal ensured that his footsteps were audible on the plush carpet as he approached Steph's side, lowering himself into the seat beside her as he tried to figure out his next move. He had to snap her out of wherever her mind had taken her, but he also didn't want to startle her. He'd been aware of plenty of men entering this kind of catatonic place due to post traumatic episodes, but there'd always been someone more experienced, better qualified, or earlier on the scene to deal with it. Now, though, it was all up to him until either Tank or Bobby arrived.

Sucking in a deep breath, he tentatively reached up and swiped a few tears from her cheek with his thumb. "Bomber?" His voice was strained and croaky as he quietly called to her, belying the tension winding him tighter than a spring. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Steph, can you hear me?"

No response.

Hal glanced to Ella, hovering in the doorway as she wrung her hands, worry spelled out in her features. He didn't like Miss Ella's discomfort any more than Steph's lack of animation, so he steeled himself for a second attempt. "Steph, I need you to look at me," he requested, laying a hand on her forearm and squeezing gently.

Steph blinked rapidly, her head turning to face him like she was coming out of a trance. The pain in her bleary eyes was like a hot poker to his heart, and Hal had to stifle a sob at the pure anguish in her expression.

"Hal?" she murmured, rubbing the heel of her hand over her cheeks to rid herself of the tears lingering there even as more filled her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Hal asked, knowing that she absolutely was not, but needing to keep her focused on the here and now so she didn't mentally check out again before reinforcements arrived. "Are you hurt?"

The only reply was a broken sob as her face crumpled and she flung her arms around his neck. Hal hesitated only a moment before wrapping his arms around her back and bundling her slight frame closer to him. She'd once told him that his bear hugs were the best she'd ever experienced, declaring them an energy booster and a safe house all in one, so he hoped this hug would have that same effect on her now. He hated seeing her so upset without knowing who's head he could knock off in retaliation.

He just held her for the longest time, his thoughts spinning out of control. Where the hell were Tanka and Bobby? What was taking them so long? What had happened to devastate Steph – a normally happy, bubbly and resilient woman – so completely? Hal wasn't aware of any threats on the radar, and no alerts had been broadcast to the Rangemen about a Bombshell disaster. That left something personal, and Hal wasn't sure how he felt about being responsible for listening to, and helping her sort out anything of a more personal nature.

He'd almost prefer she zap him with his own stun gun again.

Almost.

But he couldn't just abandon a friend in need. Especially when that friend was Stephanie Plum.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Hal asked when her sobs had died off into the occasional wet sniffle.

Steph shook her head, her face still pressed to his chest, but he heard her mumble a question into his shirt. "How do you find the strength to keep going?"

"What do you mean?" Hal asked, frowning down at the top of her curly head.

"How do you keep going when you've lost everything?" she rephrased. Her face was still firmly hidden in his chest, but her voice was a little stronger. "How do you keep doing what you're doing even when you never get it right? I never get it right, Hal! I'm failing everyone. How do you keep going?"

Hal's arms tightened around her reflexively, his protective instincts rising even as his stomach clenched with fear for what Steph might have been through to make her think and speak like this. Sure, she could benefit from some training, but as much as she'd earned her Bombshell Bounty Hunter moniker, Stephanie Plum as far from a failure. Her methods were unconventional, but that didn't mean she never got things right. Her instincts were better than half the guys at Rangeman. And that was saying something!

Hal and Steph had worked closely over the years, despite a few disastrous mishaps when they were both fairly fresh on the scene. They had a bond that he liked to think was unbreakable, and knew that she requested his assistance specifically more often than anyone else's at Rangeman because she'd been privy to his own failures and was able to view him as human. Steph looked to Hal as an equal rather than a robot manufactured by the military, and for that he was grateful.

Military life hadn't suited him the way it had his colleagues, so he'd gotten out at the earliest opportunity. When he'd first joined Rangeman he'd still been a fresh-faced kid bumbling about in the dark. It had taken him a while to find his place and earn the respect of the other guys. He'd felt like he was always on the outskirts, but as his confidence grew, so did his connection with the Rangemen. He may not have the dazzling accolades that they did, but he had enough military experience to know the right way to act and speak to gain their trust. And these days he was a valued member of the team. Ranger had even had enough faith in him to show a couple of newbies the ropes in the last year or so.

"You keep going because it's the only choice there is," Hal informed Steph, loosening his grip as he heard the front door open and close, and using his index finger under her chin to lift her gaze to his. "It's your life to live and if you give up, no one's going to get in the driver's seat and keep you going for you."

She sent him a look that asked, 'Are you sure?' and gave him the clear reminder of the fact that her mother and the Burg had been battling for control over her life for years. Possibly even her entire life.

"Look, Bomber," Hal sighed as Tank, Lester and Bobby appeared in the doorway, looming behind Ella. "No one is just going to hand over the keys or issue you a copy of the official handbook to life. I don't know what all has gotten you into this headspace, and I don't pretend to be an expert on any of this, but I'll share what little advice I have to give: This is your life to live as you see fit. You make the rules. You decide what success and failure look like for you. And sure, you may not always meet your own standards, you may occasionally be manipulated and lied to and find yourself stripped down by the truth, but it's still your life, and as long as you're clutching the keys in your fist, you're still the one driving."

"Okay," Steph said meekly, averting her gaze to the tabletop, processing his words

Hal took the opportunity to acknowledge the presence of his superiors then, meeting each of the eyes in turn and receiving three barely perceptible nods of approval for his rambling pep talk before their attention snapped back to Steph as another sob escaped her. Apparently his words of wisdom hadn't been as helpful as he'd hoped.

"Hey, Beautiful," Lester said, stepping forward from the group and crossing to where she still sat on Hal's lap. "There's no need to cry! Hal's metaphors weren't that bad! He managed to stick to a single mode of transport this time!"

Hal chafed a little under the remarks, but figured Lester was just trying to use humour to ease Steph's mood. It was a technique that usually worked wonders. Steph wasn't one to dwell on the bad stuff or take life too seriously, but today was different. Just as she had when she'd noticed Hal's presence, Steph flung her arms around Lester's neck, the water works starting up again.

As Lester gathered her up and sat in the chair she'd been in when Hal arrived, Hal took the opportunity to excuse himself and move to the kitchen where he was quickly joined by Tank and Bobby. Their non-expressions were expectant, waiting for the report that Hal already knew he had to give. The only problem was, he didn't feel like he had any more information now than he did when he'd entered the apartment.

"She was unresponsive when I arrived," he said after taking a moment to organise his thoughts. "Hugging her knees, staring at the wall, crying. It took a couple tries to break through and when I asked her what was wrong, she burst into tears. You arrived right when I was getting her to talk."

"What did she say?" Bobby asked, a troubled furrow creasing his brow.

Hal shrugged uselessly. "Not a lot. She just asked how to keep going when you've lost everything and mentioned that she never gets things right, so she's failing everyone."

Tank's face gave nothing away as his gaze moved from Hal, to Bobby and finally to the doorway where Ella still lingered. "She's made those kinds of comments before," he finally pointed out.

"Not like this," Bobby countered with a shake of his head. "I've never seen her this upset before."

"What do we know about her movements today?" Tank questioned, spearing Hal with the hard look he'd come to dread.

"Nothing's pinged, but I can go run a history," he offered. He'd found it was always best, when delivering a report of zero value, to put forward a solution to the lack of information, especially where Tank was concerned.

Tank nodded and Hal double timed out of the apartment before anyone cottoned on to the fact that he was supposed to be on monitors right now. Hopefully Binkie had had the good sense to pull someone in to cover him after he'd dashed away. Steph was, after all, the priority.