Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to Janet Evanovich, and the rest is mine. I'm grateful she lets us play.

Warning: Dark fic. Adult language, adult content, violence, smut. This is written for mature audiences only.

Chapter 24

Stephanie's POV

I know Ranger wants to offer me comfort, but I'm too single-mindedly focused on going through the research, finding that evidence I know is there that will definitively link Tank and Farro to pause now. Further, I'm afraid that if I set aside my research for my feelings, Ranger will insist I stop, and I can't. I need to see this through. I feel Ranger's eyes on me as I turn back to the computer, and I'm relieved he doesn't push me into a conversation I'm not ready to have.

So I dig. I spend the rest of the afternoon into the early evening hours digging, comparing reports, initiating searches non-standard searches, and comparing what I find against existing evidence. My Spidey sense is in full alert, and I feel alive in my purpose. Watching the clock, I stand when required, walk when necessary, and take care of my human needs. And then oil erupts from the earth in a rapturous fountain, soaring hundreds of feet into the air.

I let out a hiss of air as a grim grin forms. Fuck me. Staring at the proof I sought, it's simple work to compile the remainder of the report, and I close the laptop with a heavy satisfaction as the smell of dinner captures my attention.

I look up, startled to see that Ranger, Hector, Lester, Bobby, Alex, and Ella are standing shoulder to shoulder, watching me with rapt attention. I attempt to quirk an eyebrow before locking eyes on Alex, who follows me as I walk unassisted to the restroom, eager to stretch and escape the scrutiny I wasn't previously aware I was under. Tomorrow and the privacy that will be afforded to me in my apartment on four can't come soon enough.

Alex raps lightly on the door, and I let her in before hobbling back over to the sink to wash my hands. "Damn girl," Alex says, leaning against the door. "When you are on a roll, it's mesmerizing. I've seen hounds give up on finding a bone more readily than you did going through all those documents. Have you always been able to work with such intensity?"

I let out a small, mirthless laugh as dry my hands on a towel. "Yeah, it's a blessing and a curse," I snort. I'm about to head back into the room when I stop, resting my forehead against the door. On the other side are well-intentioned friends who will inadvertently hurt me will their necessary questions. It's the unavoidable evil Ranger was afraid of in agreeing to let me review the data. I take a deep breath to steady myself against the approaching barrage of emotions, willing them to go back into the dark hole of denial I normally keep them.

Then I understand. That black hole is the numbness I used to survive the past year, but the strategy hurt me as much as it saved me. I wasn't ready to face my fears and insecurities, but maybe, under the understanding that these people are my true friends, I am now, at least a little.

"Are you doing okay, Steph?" Alex asks softly, and I know she is asking about more than my physical health.

"Tank was Ranger's best friend, and I believed him so easily," I confess in a small voice.

I hear Alex still behind me.

"I believed the lie. I believed I was the hateful one when in reality Tank hated me, and everything that's happened this last year all goes back to that hate. He hated me because I threatened everything that he believes about himself and what he values; he hated me for existing. I believed him, primed to do so by having lived a life, especially in the Burg, where I have always been wrong in the eyes of my friends and family, and I hated my existence," I state, and I watch as a silent salty drop drips off my nose and splatters in a minuscule puddle between my feet.

Alex steps closer to me but has the wisdom to wait.

"About a year ago, I killed a man. His name was Eric Farro. He was married though estranged from his wife, Amber and pre-teen daughter Stella. I've replayed the moment I shot him at least a thousand times awake and asleep, and I thought I knew everything there was to know. I was unqualified to go after this skip, and I shouldn't have been there. When Farro broke free from my ineffective restraints, he made it very clear he was going to rape me. I fought him, and in the ensuing struggle, he reached for a gun and was about to execute me when he dropped it due to the after-effects of the taser. I reached the weapon a split second before him, and as we struggled, I accidentally shot my skip. The worst part is that I stood there as Farro died, and I did nothing. I listened to his last words and his last breath. I killed him," I say brokenly but straightforwardly.

"Today, I learned something new."

Alex takes a sharp breath behind me.

"Tank and Farro knew each other from childhood. Their dads served together in Vietnam, and both belonged to the Shreveport POW/MIA chapter. When Tank and Farro were kids, their families, along with a few others in the community, regularly got together on Memorial Day and Veterans Day for BBQs and parades. That is at least until both fathers fell to alcoholism and drug abuse, running from demons that I suppose that claimed them in the end," I continue, a second drop joining the first on the floor.

"Farro went FTA for assault two years before I ever got his file. Rangeman was credited with the capture, and internal documents showed Tank was the team lead that day. Vinnie, my cousin and boss at the Bonds Office, kept a ledger of every payment he received from Tank when I was given files for dangerous skips with a bonus when I was hurt. I wondered where that money came from, so I followed the trail. The monthly payment sums match checks Tank wrote to himself from the Rangeman entertainment fund," I continue, my breath catching as I fight for control, "Except for one. The month I went after Farro."

"Oh Steph," I hear Alex gasp.

"Farro made a deposit into his bank account for ten thousand dollars two days before I went after him, matching a combination of withdrawals Tank made from several personal accounts over several days. Tank set me up." A third and fourth splatter appear beneath me.

"I see it so clearly now. The way Farro called me Little Girl, Tank's nickname for me. The way Tank suggested I quit bounty hunting and become Ranger's mistress. Tank told me I was a classy woman who needed romance in the bedroom, mimicking the exact words Farro breathed into my ear as he left bruising imprints of his hands and dick as they were pressed against my trapped body. I never told anyone what Farro said. Everything Tank said to me was a manipulation to keep me off balance and believing the lie. And I did," I begin to sob, turning to collapse into Alex's waiting arms. I allow myself a short indulgence of comfort before leaning against the door again, this time facing Alex.

I wipe my eyes and nose with the offered tissue and continue with new resolve. "I'm not going to believe the lie anymore. Farro was wife beating scum who peddled drugs to kids. That's the truth, and today I learned, when I was ready to find the truth, that Amber, Farro's widow, opened a bakery on the Shore, and Stella is an honors student. Before that, Amber was in the process of filing an Order of Protection against her estranged husband in the wake of his last domestic assault charge, and Stella was a truant. I didn't destroy their lives with my actions. I possibly saved them. I have done my best to destroy myself in the process of atonement all while believing the lie. I believed that had I allowed Farro to rape me, I would be hurt, but Amber and Stella would be better off. It's insanity, I can see that now, but the lie was seductive."

I press my lips together and sigh, gathering my thoughts before looking at Alex again, her brown eyes wide and flooded with unshed tears.

"I'll never really know why Tank didn't kill me himself. The only reason I can think of is that, in his mind, the conspiracy and manipulation were a means to an end, but since he wasn't the one who pulled the physical trigger, so to speak, he was innocent. He could act the part required of him as Ranger's best friend and a Core Team member of Rangeman, reaping the perceived benefits that would result of my demise," I state, each word feeling heavier on my tongue than the last. Then I lift my chin and press on.

"Tank did his best to destroy me, and when he failed physically, literally paying a childhood friend to kill me, he rallied to include the destruction of my spirit. He manipulated a violent, horrendous event and used it to break me down. I'm only now understanding how shattered Farro's death left me. The isolation. The paranoia. The deep-set belief that I am an evil person who harms others. This last year was hell, but I realize I have a second chance at life. I agreed to therapy, but now I understand much better what I am going to therapy for, and that gives me real hope in that process." I push myself from the door and stand up straight, tears trailing tracks towards the tiled floor.

"I'm so grateful you're here, Alex. You've helped mend my body, but by being a woman of obvious joy and compassion, you've also helped me to trust and see some of the positive in the world again. I hope that when I'm discharged tomorrow, it won't be the last time I see you," I say with genuine warmth.

I barely have the last word out when Alex wraps me in a big hug, losing her own battle against tears. "Don't you fear, Stephanie Plum. You and I are destined to be great friends. I see why everyone around here loves you, and so do I. We will all work to help you see what we see, Tank and all the rest of those fuckers be damned," Alex says forcefully.

We take turns washing our splotchy faces before I open the door, Alex behind me. I gasp at Ranger's unfiltered and agonized expression.

"Babe," he whispers.

"You heard," I say, more as a statement than a question.

"I was waiting for you by the door, and the sound traveled. Not loudly, but enough. I wouldn't have heard had I not been standing where I was. I shouldn't have eavesdropped, but I felt frozen by your story. I'm sorry for breaking your trust," Ranger immediately states somehow looking more horrified than before, and the words are explosive, knocking down another one of the walls I built while I believed the lies.

Before I even know what I am consciously doing, I lean forward with absolute assurance that Ranger would catch me, and wrap my arms around his muscular neck as he lifts me off the ground. He needs to hold me as much as I need to be held.

"There's nothing to forgive," I whisper into his neck, "But thank you for telling me the truth."

"I love you, Babe," Ranger whispers back, before setting me down on the bed again as Alex takes a quick round of vitals and places the cannula around my face as a coughing fit as a result of my crying starts. Relaxing against the pillows, I clutch Ranger's hand tightly and close my eyes. I take deep breaths, appreciating the pure oxygen as I do so, and allow myself to drift into the peace that follows deep emotional release.

"Alright, now I'm sure all of you have questions and concerns you want to be voiced, but this is not that moment. My patient needs rest," Alex announces with the full voice of authority.

I turn my head and look at my friends, who I hadn't realized were still in the room, not wanting them to worry unnecessarily on my behalf. "Hector, I left a written report in the shared folder you set up. Please distribute it. I'll answer any questions you guys have after everyone's had a chance to review the information," I state, addressing the obvious elephant in the room.

"Si, Angelita," Hector says, but his worried eyes linger on me.

"Ella, I'm sorry, but I'm more tired than I expected, and I won't be much good for our shopping appointment. Perhaps you could join me in my apartment on four after I'm discharged?" I ask, stifling a yawn.

Ella walks over and rests her hand on my shoulder. "Of course, Stephanie. Anytime. Everything is more than ready for your move in tomorrow just the way it is. Rest up, Honey," she says with maternal love in her tone that matches the expression on her face, and it takes down another wall. "I just checked, and your dinner is still hot and ready. I made your favorite."

"Thank you, Ella," I say in quiet gratitude, knowing that if I try to say much more, I'll start sobbing again.

As she leaves, Lester joins her, for once words failing him, and Hector follows in his wake. I see Bobby catch Alex's eye before he quietly departs to his office. I'm still clutching Ranger's hand as Alex wheels the cart of food towards Ranger and myself.

"That looks good. I'll follow the good doctor's orders and eat in a chair. After, would you mind helping me get ready for bed?" I ask Alex.

"Of course, Steph," Alex responds, pulling up two chairs beside the bed. I slowly move to sit in the one closest to my current position, but it does feel good to sit down for a meal. I reluctantly release Ranger's hand so he can sit opposite me. "Just knock on the door when you're ready," Alex states, stepping into Bobby's office and pulling the door closed behind her.

Ranger lifts the covers over the plates, and I choke back the tears again at the sight of my portion chicken fettuccini linguini, green beans on the side, and Ranger's Italian salad with chicken, small pasta side.

"Babe?" Ranger questions.

"She loves me," I say simply, picking up my fork and taking the first magnificent bite.

"Yes, she does," Ranger affirms, before taking a large bite of his salad, moaning slightly in satisfaction. "And she loves me, too," he states, his eyes alight with merriment.

I snort so loudly I almost choke at the sound of Ranger moaning before breaking down in peals of giggles, the mood instantly lighter. I eat about half of my plate, wishing I could possibly stuff away more, but crying uncle as I feel the food baby bulge forming.

Alex returns to help me freshen up for bed as Ranger pushes the tray into the hallway before stepping into Bobby's office. "Thank you for ordering everyone away," I tell Alex as she helps me get comfortable in the bed.

"It's hard to lose your privacy the way you have the past couple of days. As your medical care provider and your friend, it was time for a break. How are you feeling? What's your pain level?" Alex asks.

"A five," I answer honestly. "I'm tired, and I think the pain is more from fatigue and increasing my activity level over the day than anything else. It does feel better than it did even yesterday, that's for sure. It was a three when I woke up this morning."

"How do you feel about taking another dose of Motrin now? If you find it hard to fall asleep or you wake up from the pain, I can give you something stronger then. However, as you are aware, that something stronger comes with the side effects of dizziness and sleepiness," Alex suggests. "We can also put ice on it as you fall asleep. I'll be here to stow it."

"That's a great plan," I agree easily, appreciative of her clear suggestions versus orders.

I hear a loud thud originate in Bobby's office, and I jump at the sound. "It's okay, Steph," Alex says softly, placing a hand on my shoulder as I work to slow my heart rate that automatically increased in response to sound. "You're safe. Take several deep breaths. That's your hypervigilance from PTSD kicking in. Therapy will help you with that, but you're already doing better than you were when I first met you. I'm so impressed. Your determination, intelligence, and heart are to be admired. When I last checked, the guys were reading the report you compiled today, and, being men who care about you, it has elicited some strong feelings. Remember, it's not towards you, however. It's towards the assholes who hurt you." Alex gives my shoulder a small squeeze before she begins gathering supplies.

Alex injects the liquid Motrin into my IV before returning with the cold pack. "Thanks, Alex, for everything. I'm pretty tired. I'm going to go to sleep now," I say.

"You're welcome, but you don't need to keep thanking me," she replies, giving my hand a quick squeeze before turning off the overhead lights but leaving a dim under-cabinet light on and slipping next door.

It's funny, I think, pulling the blanket up tighter around me. I've spent the last two days wishing for some time alone, and now that I have it, I wish I had Ranger's arms wrapped around me. I catch the muted sounds of another muffled outburst followed by exaggerated shushing from next door, and I cling to Alex's words. I'm safe, I chant, but my body demonstrates my lack of faith with its unwanted trembling. When I get like this, every sound is amplified, and even my vision seems sharper.

I hear the outer door to Bobby's office open and close, and then, silence. Ranger's not coming, probably too busy dealing with my report or how it's affected himself or the other Core Team members. He's given me a lot of his time the last couple of days, and I don't even know when he's had a chance to work out last. Alex probably told him I was asleep, and he's reasonably taking this chance to catch up on his personal life. After all, I wasn't very good company this afternoon, and I didn't ask him to stay. I have no right to hope for his unlimited companionship.

But then why does the emptiness of this room feel so crushing? I take a deep breath, keeping my eyes pressed closed, and attempt to calm what I intellectually know is a spiral of irrational emotions. Despite my best efforts a tear sneaks past my defenses, but it never lands on the pillow.

My eyes fly open as a calloused thumb brushes it away.

"Querida," Ranger says softly, leaning over the bed.

"You're here," I whisper back, leaning towards him. Ranger presses his lips against my forehead firmly, and I automatically place my hands on his back to pull him closer.

"Siempre," Ranger says, his lips tickling my skin before sitting on the bed beside me. "I'll always be here for you. I love you."

I nod slightly in mute acknowledgment of his devotion before Ranger lays on the bed beside me, his arm snaking under my shoulders as I place my head in the soft spot of his shoulder, feeling instantly calmer as everything that is Ranger surrounds me. "Is everything okay? I heard some sounds…" I say, trailing off as I clutch a fistful of Ranger's shirt in my hand.

Ranger places his hand over mine, and I exchange his shirt for lacing my fingers between his. "Yes, Babe. Everything is okay. The sounds you heard were reactions to reading your report, but not at all towards you. After overhearing your conversation with Alex and reading the report myself, I should be asking you that. Are you okay, Babe?" Ranger says, his concern unmistakable.

"I think I'm learning to breathe again," I say quietly. "Tank's lies were choking me. I believed them, as supported as they were by the Burg, my family, and my past, and I made many choices this last year that polluted my life time and again, until the air quality was so bad, I couldn't breathe anymore. The report, as hard it was to write, displaced some of the bad air with good. I found new perspectives. I took a deep breath of pure, clean air."

I paused as Ranger pressed his lips against my head, savoring the tingle from the roots of my hair to my baby toes. "But Ranger, you are a gale-force wind."

Ranger holds me a little tighter in response. "I'm so proud of you, Babe. No one else could have put that report together the way you did, and it is exactly what we needed to pull the case together. But right now, I don't care about cases or figuring out how to make sure everyone who hurt you is taken into custody. That will wait until tomorrow or the next day. Now is the time for rest. Sleep well, Babe. I love you."

With those comforting words, I fall asleep quickly in the loving security of Ranger's embrace.

A/N: I've returned from my travels and am settling back into my regular routine. Chapter 25 is written, and I'm determined to give you the ending to this story before I start law school. Your reviews continue to humble and inspire me. Thank you so much.

Misty23y is a great beta, helping me with grammar, story continuity, writer's block, and is so encouraging. Thank you, Babe.