I'm not going to lie this took longer than it probably should have. I had to start over many many times, but I'm finally happy with it and I hope you shall be too!

I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Violence, Choking. Still in the process of writing so check here for new warnings as I go!

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Letting his eyes roam over the warehouse Street found himself forcing back a groan before he started after the suspect once more. He knew that they weren't always going to be going up against people that were as physically fit as they were, but he'd be happy if it happened a little more often. Hell, he'd take them being a little more afraid to jump off of buildings. He wasn't sure how much more his knees could take.

Alright, that was a lie. He knew that he wasn't even close to wanting or needing to throw in his hat, but the case they were working on kept dragging on and on and he was tired. All he wanted was to curl up in his bed and sleep. Actually sleep. In his own bed instead of a couch at the precinct. Which he was almost positive he was about to get called out for.

For the last few months everyone on S.W.A.T. had been focused on taking down an up and coming crime boss. Even after all the time that had passed they still weren't sure how an organization with so many people was able to be built without anyone knowing until it was almost too late. No, not 'almost' too late. They were too late.

The case had been brought to them after the organization had killed a total of ten people in the span of three weeks. At first they hadn't even thought to link the cases together. They had all known that they weren't random by any means, but they hadn't seemed linked either.

It wasn't until the death total had jumped up to seventeen that they had finally figured out that all of it was connected. If he was honest he couldn't remember exactly how they had connected all the dots together. All he knew was they finally had a target to go after. Well, more than a few targets actually.

For the most part it hadn't been all that difficult to round everyone up and put a stop to most of the organization. Even though their death toll had climbed quickly there hadn't been that many people. They had just had some very good leaders.

Good enough that they were the only ones that were left. Months of running around feeling as if they may never bring an end to them all that was left were the leaders. They were so close. Just two more people.

With the knowledge that it was only them left the team had decided to split in half and focus on figuring out one. They knew that the men were closely tied together, but there was too much information for all of them to be working on both men at the same time.

Chris, Tan, and himself had spent the last few weeks investigating a man named Eliot Baylon. Unsurprising, it had been damn near impossible to find anything on him. At least anything in recent years. As soon as the man turned 29 it was as if he had fallen off the face of the planet.

From what they had been able to gather he was a fairly average person. He did decent throughout his schooling before moving to LA to take over the cafe his grandmother had after she passed away. There was nothing to make it seem as if there needed to be concern about him. He was just a person.

At least there wasn't until he met James Keller. Something else that made no sense. Keller, like Baylon, had been completely average. Hell, he had even been going to college to earn a degree in child psychology.

It seemed as if all of that changed when the men met each other. The relationship that they had would have been something else if there hadn't been so many bodies trailing behind them. Or that was what the suspects they had taken down already seemed to say.

From everything that they had been able to gather the reason they had been able to build their organization as quickly as they had was because of how they played off each other. It was as if they could read a person and convince them to do things that would normally horrify them. It was like nothing he had ever seen before.

A part of him wanted to compare them to cult leaders but that didn't seem to fit either. From what they were told they weren't looking to be worshiped or have their words be law. It was almost as if they had seen something familiar in the people and had decided to explore it.

If he was honest, Street had no idea what he was supposed to think about the whole thing. It all just seemed too much to be true. There was no way that two normal people had caused so much chaos and heartbreak and death. It just didn't seem possible.

Not that any of that really mattered though. The evidence was right in front of him and the entire team. Everyone saw them for who they were and they all knew that they had to be stopped before more people died.

Which lead him to where he was now. He and Tan had just been going to question one of the victims family members when Baylon had strolled in. He had looked completely at ease even after they had noticed it was him.

Before they could fully introduce themselves as SWAT and arrest him Baylon had pulled out a gun and started to open fire. They had tried to get everyone out of harms way, but some people had been hit.

A moment later Baylon was running out of the building and, after checking that Tan was taking care of the hurt, Street had taken off after him. Something that he realized now that he was alone was probably not the best idea. He really didn't want to think of how often he felt that way.

"Eliot Baylon!" Street called out knowing that his best course of action was going to be trying to get the man one on one so he didn't lose him, "This is LAPD SWAT. I know you're-"

"In here?" a deep voice offered sounding calmer than he expected as the man walked out of the shadows, "I'm not hiding, Dear."

A shiver that he hated himself for ran down Streets spine as Baylon came to a stop in front of him. The man already had his hands held up in front of him to show that he was no longer holding a weapon. Somehow seeing that didn't make the younger man feel better.

"Eliot Baylon," Street started slowly making his way forward his gun steady on the man knowing that he could still very easily have the gun he had before, "You're under arrest for-"

"I hate to interrupt," Baylon offered a sad, almost shy smile coming to his lips, "But don't you think it's a bit odd that you know my name and I don't know yours?"

"What?"

"You have to admit it is a little rude."

For a moment everything that Streets mind seemed to blank completely. In all the years he had been arresting people never once had someone asked his name like that. People had done it with sneers and sarcastic remarks, but never so sincerely. It didn't make any sense.

Yet somehow it fit perfectly with everything that he knew about Baylon. He and Keller had worked hard to get into peoples mind and convince them to kill. That was what he was trying to do now. If he could get into Streets mind he probably thought he could get out Scot-free. It was an interesting tactic.

"Tell me," Baylon suddenly questioned his head cocking to the side, "How long have you been studying up on me?"

"I…" Street started to answer before shaking his head at his own stupidity, "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does. So much time wasted learning about me and for what?"

"To arrest you. To stop you from killing more people."

Street watched as the mans shoulders sagged as a sigh fell from his lips. An all too familiar feeling coursed through him at that. He had seen that look on so many peoples faces and for some reason it hit just as hard as it did for anyone else.

It shouldn't matter to him what the man thought. He was a murderer. There was no doubt about that. There was so much evidence piled up against him that having a trial was only a formality at that point.

So why did he hate the dismissal from the man? Why was it he felt like an apology was on the tip of his tongue? Why did he want nothing more than to try to convince the man that he was nothing like the person he saw him as?

It had taken so long for Street to finally be able to be himself without second guessing everything. Okay, so he was still trying to figure out how to do that, but he had gotten a lot better than he had been before.

After everything that went down with his mother and almost losing the team he couldn't let that part of him takeover anymore. He knew beyond a doubt that if he did than it was just going to lead to his own destruction. He didn't want that.

Yet standing in front of Baylon watching him look so disappointed he couldn't help as all those feelings threatened to take over and pull him down once more. It was so disorienting and it felt as if there was nothing he could do to get his feet steady underneath him.

Slowly the killer let his arms drop to his sides as he took a step forward. A voice in the back of his head barked at him to pay attention, but it sounded muffled and far away. The only thing he could hear was Baylon starting up once more.

"You're a smart man, aren't you? You have to be. You wouldn't be standing in front of me. And yet you reduce yourself to this."

A shiver ran down Street's spine at that tone. He had heard it a thousand times growing up. It was exactly like some of the foster parents. It almost always came right before he was smacked to the floor.

It had been a long time since he had been afraid of being hit. Between his father and some of the foster homes he had gotten fairly used to it. He never really thought that the abuse was normal. It was more something that he had to deal with. Then he learned how to hit back.

He wasn't exactly proud of the person he had been when he was younger. Some of the things he had done leaned a lot closer to questionable than he liked to think about. He knew that it was just him trying to survive, but doing what he did now…

That wasn't who he was any more though. He was SWAT officer. He was one of the protectors now. He didn't get to pick and choose who he protected or arrested. He followed the evidence and he did everything in his power to uphold the law to make the world a safer place.

The last thing he could do was randomly start swinging at people. He had to be better than the person everyone had expected him to grow up to be. He couldn't let himself be that person. He had to be better.

"You haven't told me your name yet," Baylon continued rocking forward once more, "We can't have a conversation, a real conversation, if we don't know each others name."

"We aren't having a conversation at all," Street stated hating how soft his voice sounded, "I'm placing you under arrest for murder. That is what is going to happen."

Baylon's head dipped forward as he shook it making it impossible to see his eyes. A ball of dread formed in the pit of his stomach at that. Street barely had time to figure out what was going on when the man rushed forward knocking the gun from his hands and him onto his back.

A grunt fell from him as the air was knocked from his lungs. He barely had enough time to block the hit coming for his head before another blow came down catching him on the side of his head right by his eye.

Ringing filled his head as the world went completely red. It took a second too long to figure out that blood was falling into his eye. Hit after hit slammed into his head knocking any kind of logical thinking away before it could even fully register.

The world seemed to slim down to a small dot as the pain of the hits echoed around him. The crack of a fist hitting his face. The ringing echo that filled his brain. The way his head snapped to the side over and over with every punch.

All of a sudden a vastly different feeling overtook him as fingers gently caressed the side of his face. Street felt himself flinch back from the touch only for the man above him to softly shush him while cupping the side of his face. A whimper that he wished he could hold back escaped him as the fingers pressed too roughly on his cheek.

"Oh little one," Baylon muttered his grip tightening harshly before pulling back and wiping away both tears and blood, "What have you done to yourself?"

It took all of Street's energy to force his eyes open at that. He was vaguely aware that he had been hurt fairly badly by the man, but he still wasn't expecting the pain the crashed over him as the hazily red figure above him came into focus.

Baylon smiled down at him almost lovingly his thumb running back and forth over a cut on his cheek. It was in that moment that the man vaguely reminded him of a parent attempting to soothe their child. Everything about that made him feel sickened.

An almost sad hum came from Baylon as his hand slid down Street's face wrapping around his throat. Weakly he reached up to try to stop the man as his fingers began to tighten and he put his full weight into pinning him to the floor.

Feeling the air being cut off from his lungs Street felt panicked. He had gone in knowing that Baylon and the situation was dangerous and he wasn't sure what had happened. It was as if the man had gotten into his head.

His head swam as his fingers wrapped around the murders wrists trying in vain to claw and push him away. Baylon simply continued to hum a tune as his grip tightened even more around his throat.

"Oh, it's far too late for that, dear," Baylon offered gently as he leaned down, "You've already done enough. It's okay now. You don't have to keep fighting."

Spots of black dotted his vision the fight slowly draining out of him as his hands fell to the floor. Everything in him wanted to keep fighting, but he felt so weak that he couldn't bring himself to move anymore.

All he could do was watch as the sound of his blood rushing through his veins overtook the murders voice. In that moment there was nothing other than Baylon and he was so sure that he was going to be the last thing he ever saw.

The whiskey brown eyes looked so peaceful and calm watching him; almost like embers of a fire. He couldn't help thinking that maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing on the planet. He knew that that thought should have scared him, but it didn't. If he was honest he wasn't sure what he was feeling. He did know that it wasn't close to being the first time he felt it though.

He wasn't afraid of death in any way. That fear had died at the hands of his father when he was a child. Every time he walked into the house he was sure that he was never going to walk out. He had felt that long before he had even truly understood what death was.

As he grew up he had used that to his advantage. So many people had tried to make him afraid of them and what they might do to him, but it never worked. There was never anything worse they could do that his father hadn't already done.

Before he realized what was going on air suddenly rushed back into his lungs causing him to roll over to the side as painful coughs racked through his body. Without thinking he tried to curl in on himself only for something to stop him.

Reaching up he tried to fight whatever it was that was keeping him from moving. His mind yelled at him saying that it was Baylon and that he needed to get away before the man took a hold of him again.

The grip was too strong though and he couldn't move. Not knowing what else he could do Street opened his eyes needing to see what was going on. Instead of Baylon holding him down he saw the man slumped on ground blood pooling around him.

Feeling the fight fall away once more he turned his head slightly and saw Tan staring down at him. An almost desperate looking smile came to his friends lips as he blinked back tears that were threatening to fall.

"They're almost here, Jim," Tan's words slowly filtered in, "Just hold on a little while long. Okay? The bus is almost here. Just a little while longer."

Reaching up with a shaky hand Street tried to place it on his friends face only for his hand to fall short. The smile slowly fell into a frown as Tan reached out himself to take hold of his hand almost painfully tight.

Feeling the last of his energy start to fad once more Street smiled up at Tan wanting nothing more than to assure him that everything was going to be fine even as the blackness continued to pull him under.

"No, Jim, stay awake," Tan started once more his voice sounding farther away than it had before, "Stay awake. Please."