…Danielle pulled on her thick coat as the car drove inexorably towards the prison. Even with the heating activated it was freezing. Not that she was surprised as it was late November after all. "Cold?" Rick asked.

She nodded. "Yeah it's freezing."

"It is rather," he agreed and before she could stop him had put his thick coat over hers. "I'm…" she started, but Rick simply started to whistle. With a sigh but smile, she surrendered. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry I can't turn the heating up any further," said Martin, the Smith's Grove driver.

"No worries," Danielle smiled at him. "I'm sure heating always struggles this time of year."

Martin chuckled. "Indeed."

Before she knew it they were at the prison. Danielle felt another shiver of… something but wasn't sure what. Fear? But there was absolutely no way she would change her mind now. "Ok?" Rick murmured; something had obviously shown on her face.

"Fine," she said with a determined nod.

"You don't have to you know," he said softly. "Honestly Danielle you don't."

"I know," she smiled a little. "But I've come this far so I'm going to see this to the end. I guess it's just… strange to think I'm about to see a man die. Evil son of a bitch yes, but still…"

"As long as you're sure, remember what I told you."

"Nope," she squeezed his hand. "I'm good Rick, let's do this."

"Ok," her friend squeezed back.

They reached the first security point and she realised Rick hadn't been kidding. They were patted down by armed men and all she could hear was the chatter of radios. Rick told them he'd left his equipment in the car so as not to bring it and have to surrender it. "Ok," one of the armed guards said. Danielle didn't have to see them to know their guns were the real deal. "Can I see both your acceptance letters please?" They both pulled them out of their pockets. Danielle remembered when she'd gone to her cell just before they left to change into her black suit and slipping said letter into the pocket of the suit's jacket. Michael had gone with her.

You look gorgeous.

She smiled thinking of that text now. "You're just saying that because you're biased," she'd joked.

No Danielle, I'm saying it because I'm honest.

Rick was also wearing a suit and tie under his equipment vest. He knew she loved men in suits and she'd kept touching his jacket and tie. "What would Michael say?" He joked.

"I don't think I want to find out," she'd grinned back. "I'd probably be dying myself." The guard must've cleared her because he handed her back the letter, simply saying "Thank you Miss Avery." The sound of her adopted name made her smile again, she doubted that would ever change. Seconds later Rick was also cleared and they headed through the first set of prison gates. The buzzing sound of the gates opening was of course familiar to her after Smith's Grove, whose gates did exactly the same. Along with other witnesses, she and Rick continued walking to the next checkpoint.

…

Death Row, 4 hours to execution:

Derek's suspicions had been proved right. The macaroni and cheese did indeed taste cheap, but he tolerated it because he didn't want to die hungry. The chicken however with it wasn't bad. It was just a shame he couldn't also do so with his lust satisfied. The chocolate pie however was good. Derek severed each mouthful as he ate the huge dessert, trying to make it last as long as he possibly could. He was surprised he even wanted to eat without throwing it up, but it was as though his stomach just like his eyes earlier had accepted its life was soon to be over and wanted to go in style. Father Fletcher had spoken to him for three hours straight about Christianity and what it meant, how to accept Jesus and the rest. Derek had listened, nodded, said 'hmm' in the right places and even gone along with saying the so-called 'sinners prayer.' He however doubted it would do much good. If he was Jesus, he certainly wouldn't accept a guy who was only talking to him because his life was over in under 6 hours. The Chaplin was still with him now, Derek had been told he could be with him right until he was dead. Normally he would've told him to fuck off hours ago having no time for religion, but his company was better than none. Aiden Thompson had arrived at mid-day and was sitting with them now as he ate. Derek didn't want to speak to him though unless he had to. His mind seemed to have gone numb unable to think about anything. It was as if his very ability to think had already died before his body did.

"Is there anything you can do?" He finally looked up from his pie of which he still had a lot left to look at Thompson. To get me out of this?"

"I am still trying," the lawyer said smoothly. "I will not give up until… I have to."

He understood what his lawyer was not saying. Until you're in the chair being fried. "Thanks," he said grudgingly. If Thompson hadn't been able to thus far, what were the chances he'd be able to this close to execution? Derek knew very occasionally lawyers managed to get a reprieve, an appeal at the last hour or even a pardon for their clients in the past, but he also wasn't stupid enough to think the governor would pardon someone who'd raped and killed forty-two women without remorse or mercy. As if reading his mind, Thompson spoke again. "There are protesters outside the governor's mansion right now trying to stop this execution." .

Derek scoffed. Those fucking idiots. They only cared about the abolishment of capital punishment, not the man who was about to face it! "Those twats don't give a shit about me," he said, voicing his thoughts. "They just hate the death penalty. They're probably thrilled Derek Chancer is about to face the damn chair!"

"That's as maybe," Thompson said. "But you never know, the governor might take notice."

"Bullshit he will," Derek snorted. "He's probably as happy as all those fucking women out there that I'm about to die! Those gawping fuckers who will sit in the witness room come 6 and cheer when I'm pronounced dead! Those protesters never do any good, they just want the media to see them and have their voices heard! When in God's name have they ever succeeded in stopping an execution?" He didn't even apologise to Father Fletcher for his use of God's name that way, he'd gone past caring if he was completely honest. "What the fuck do they achieve? Now if they stop this execution I'll love them forever! But come on, their just fucking idiots who want an excuse to protest! Those candles? Songs? Prayers? They ain't for me! They're just to have attention on them as opposed to the guest of honour," he sneered the last three words.

"I understand your point of view," Thompson said evenly. "But you never know, they might. Either way I can't stop them if they wish to protest and that's not my responsibility anyway, my job is you."

"Then fucking do something," Derek snarled before he could hold the words back. "I don't want to die tonight Thompson! My only hope now is you and you damn well know it! There must be something you can do?"

The telephone in the small office they were in suddenly rang and Thompson grabbed it. Derek desperately tried not to feel hope, he wasn't naive enough to think it would be good news. "The governor has just denied clemency," Thompson said softly as he lowered the receiver. Derek felt his panic threaten to take over again. That was it, the last nail in his coffin. The only way he could deal with this was anger. "Of course he fucking has," he snarled. "Got to look after the victims, all those bitches who are dead and their families, got to respect the women he killed blab, blab! Spare me Thompson, I don't need to hear anymore! I bet that's what he said in his fucking tailored suit and tie in his announcement, yes?"

"Near enough," Thompson said quietly. Derek couldn't help it. He took a deep breath and let it out in a long, terrified scream. "FUCK!"

…

"Ok Rick, Danielle," a guard said. "If I could ask you to just wait here please for the first of the transport vans?"

Rick nodded. "Of course." He and Danielle sat on benches specifically for waiting witnesses. They could hear the soft singing of the Anti-death penalty protesters just outside the Maximum security unit's gates. She wondered if it was Chancer's execution they were protesting for, or just against the death penalty itself. If she had been one of them she wouldn't be protesting for Chancer what so ever! Hell she'd probably miss this entire execution altogether, unable to protest in good conscience because of whom was about to die!

"I don't know why they even bother to protest," she said quietly, voicing her train of thought. "I mean, what good does it do? Illinois is a death penalty state and I don't see how singing and praying with candles will change it."

"You are so sinical Miss Avery."

"So correct," she countered. He chuckled. "I do have to agree though. I don't see the point of it either. Not really."

She suddenly heard a voice she recognised from the news and couldn't resist turning towards the speaker. "Excuse me," she said quietly. "Mrs. Goodall?" The woman turned. "Hello?"

"I'm sorry," Danielle said, standing and holding out her hand which Sarah Goodall took. "My name is Danielle; I was in Smith's Grove when they were…" she hesitated. "Insisting on trying to treat Chancer."

"It's nice to meet you," Goodall said, immediately noticing the woman in front of her was blind.

"I recognised your voice from the news," Danielle said, knowing Sarah would notice she couldn't see. "I heard you speak just now and wanted to introduce myself. I am so sorry for your loss Mrs. Goodall."

"You are a sweetheart," the other woman squeezed her arm. "Thank you Danielle. Rick stood then and introduced himself, telling Mrs. Goodall he was one of the Smith's Grove guards and what Derek Chancer had almost done to him. But Danielle noticed he altered the story slightly by saying guards had come in and knocked Chancer out. She understood, saying it was Michael Myers when no one knew how he'd changed? She doubted anyone would believe it. She couldn't stop a smile at Rick when he told the lie.

"Samantha Lever is also here," Mrs. Goodall said in a low voice. "Rachel's sister."

"Shit," Danielle exhaled. "Rachael was very young wasn't she?"

"19," Mrs. Goodall murmured. Danielle felt anger for Derek Chancer all over again. "Son of a bitch."

"How old was Andrea, Mrs. Goodall?" She asked softly.

"She was 25 when Chancer took her from us. She'd gone down to the local shops for some milk and bam! We told her not to go so late at night alone but she was adamant."

Danielle smiled sadly at her. "Sounds like I would've really liked her, determined to be independent. It just sucks that fucking… sorry," she apologised, but Mrs. Goodall chuckled. "You're right. They are fuckers."

"It sucks that fucking men think women are worthless, shouldn't be independent, should be controlled, obey the man's every word, raped, beaten, killed."

"You sound like you're talking from experience?" Mrs. Goodall said gently.

"Oh yes," Danielle almost growled. "Damn right I am. But we're not here to focus on me, we're here for Andrea and all the other women that bastard in there killed!"

"You're a darling," Danielle realised with shock that Samantha Lever had just joined them another she had heard speak on the news. "But do tell us your story? How were you… unfortunate enough to meet Mr. Chancer?" Keeping it short she told them about Adam, his abuse leading up to her suicide attempt which had landed her in Smith's Grove. How Chancer had come in and somehow been employed by Adam to listen to and report on her to him. How Adam had managed to critically injure Charlotte her best friend, and then kidnap her. Like Rick, she altered the story so it sounded as though other guards had rescued her. She felt him squeeze her arm as she too lied and they smiled at each other, sharing their beautiful secret.

"Sweet Jesus," Mrs. Lever said in horror when she was done. "I'm so sorry sweetheart, you're just as much a victim as our families are!"

"Thank you Mrs. Lever," Danielle said sincerely. "But I don't think that's true I didn't lose someone I loved, I wasn't raped and killed by him."

"That's as maybe," Mrs. Goodall said firmly. "But that fucker in there still put you in terrible danger. That to me makes you just as much of a victim! Kudos to you for being here to witness him fry, you deserve closure just as much as we do!" Danielle was so touched by Mrs. Goodall's passionate words, she stepped forward and hugged her. She was almost brought to tears by the warmth in the other woman as she embraced her back without hesitation as did Mrs. Lever. "I meant to say call me Sarah," she murmured in Danielle's ear, just as Samantha Lever had done. "I prefer Sam," she said in a confidential whisper.

"Here's the van," Mrs. Goodall said a minute later. Danielle could not believe it when both women took her arms and helped her towards and into the van, Rick following behind. "Oh I see how it is, I'm out of a job," he murmured to her once he was sitting behind her, Mrs. Goodall beside her. Danielle chuckled. The van pulled away and Mrs. Goodall told her that this one was only for family and directly connected witnesses. "Which of course includes you," she squeezed Danielle's arm again.

"How many… grieving family members are here?" She whispered to Sarah Goodall.

"I think every victim has one witness," the other woman murmured back. "Due to his high number of… casualties we could only bring one witness for each victim."

"Did that cause you a problem?" Danielle asked. "You sound a little bitter."

Sarah laughed a little. "Oh my husband wanted to be there, insisted he wanted to see that 'fucker die'" she stressed the last two words and Danielle knew it was a quote. "But… you know, she's my daughter, Chancer killed women, you understand?"

"Oh hell yes!" Danielle said vehemently. "Damn right I understand Sarah! Did your husband relent in the end?"

"He didn't like it," Sarah said. "But yes, he finally understood my point of view."

"Good!" Danielle said sincerely.

They finally reached the gates to the Maximum security unit and the van came to a stop. The doors slid open at the push of a button from the driver and they all exited. Mrs. Goodall immediately taking Danielle's arm again. It was almost as though something in her story had caused Sarah to take her under her wing during this execution. That said, Danielle knew they were both united by terrible loss in their own way thanks entirely to Derek Julian Chancer.

…

Death Row, two hours to execution:

Now, he was starting to feel sick. Derek was certain he was about to throw up the chocolate pie he'd just finished. He desperately fought with his insides, determined not to give the prison even that small victory before they fried him. He knew the witnesses would be starting to arrive now and it made everything seem even more real, as if he'd been living in some horrible nightmare for the last few days. He could almost hear the grim reaper himself banging the symbols of deaf together in his ears, telling him he would soon claim Derek Chancer's soul. Derek believed more in the grim reaper than this Jesus rubbish Fletcher had spouted at him all day. Just as he'd suspected no visitors came to see him during the allotted final visit time, but then he wasn't surprised. Thompson and Fletcher had stayed with him inside the holding cell as they were allowed to do. Every now and then Thompson would step out to take a phone call on the office phone nearby. Every time he did this, Derek would desperately clamp down on any shred of hope which tried to rear its head. There was… pun intended, absolutely no chance it would be good news at this late stage. Yes it had happened before this was true, but to him? A rapist and woman killer? Not likely! He wasn't naive to think it would do either. Even though every single part of him had prayed… hoped for it constantly over the last forty-eight hours. He didn't even have the energy or inclination to put up a final fight when a guard entered to shave his head and calf. He was a beaten man by this point and what would fighting do anyway? They'd probably just shackle him and carry him to the fucking chair when the time came if he did that.

…

Danielle was surprised how small the witness room actually was, or perhaps it was just the sheer number of witnesses within it for this particular execution. Either way it was tight and claustrophobic. Just before they'd entered Rick had asked her one final time if she was sure, she'd hugged him and nodded once. Now they were inside the time for changing her mind had passed. Once again Sarah Goodall was sitting on one side, Samantha Lever on the other. It was as though she'd made two instant friends united in grief and loss. Rick was sitting right behind her. The witness room was almost silent, save for the soft murmur of conversation. Rick had asked the guards ahead of time if he could show Danielle the glass before Chancer was brought in, to which the guards had agreed due to her special circumstances. So when they'd entered the witness room he'd taken her up to the huge sheet of glass and she'd touched it. It went from one side of the witness room to the other Rick had explained, giving everyone the best possible view. The Death Chamber was directly on the other side, a small room containing purely 'old sparky' and nothing else.

"That sounds so macabre," Danielle remarked with a grim smile. "The best view of someone dying. Now it kind of make sense why they stopped public executions. At least all these people in here have a valid reason to see it as opposed to pure blood lust."

…

Death Row, thirty minutes to execution:

The sedative they'd given him hadn't worked. They'd told him it would sedate him slightly; it'd done fuck all. True he'd only swallowed the little pill ten minutes ago, but damn where were the effects? Panic and terror were most certainly not the last two feelings Derek Chancer wanted to die with!