I remember seeing her leave the stationhouse, walking slowly, her ribs causing her pain... obvious pain. I had seen that look of agony sweep over her beautiful face every few seconds, and I had wanted nothing more than to reach out and help her, but I knew she wouldn't want it... she would just push me away. I walked behind her, trying not to let my normal pace run away with me. I didn't want to leave her behind. She probably would have tried to keep up, knowing her. I didn't want to be responsible for making her injuries worse.

I gave her a lift home after she'd identified the rapist. She'd told me that she'd recognised him instantly, and that she had spoken with the first victim not long after. Faith had told me very little about what had been said. I hadn't asked. I'm not sure I want to know. I'm not sure how I would react. How could I react to that sort of knowledge? Men have no idea what it's like, and I know that. Women have their own reactions to that sort of thing, and I respect that. I couldn't understand.

But what sticks in my mind is how -after the attack- she had had a miscarriage and lost her baby. The rapist had killed the baby. He probably hadn't even known. I doubt he would have cared even if he had known.

It had made me mad then, and even now, just at the thought, the urge to break something is almost overpowering. It is a constant battle to keep it under control. I don't want to let my emotions get the better of me, not around Faith.

It doesn't even seem to bother me majorly that Nicole broke up with me either. She's like an afterthought when it comes to Faith. I had told myself that I had loved her, but now I'm not so sure. I'm not so sure of anything. Had I loved her? Had I used the knowledge of her being with other men as an excuse to get away? Why hadn't I just thought it over a little more instead of getting myself in so deep... as usual. I might have been able to cause Nicole a little less pain. I hadn't really wanted to hurt her like that. I just wanted to be with Faith.

My partner means so much to me that I can't even put into words how it felt to hear of the loss of her baby, and how upset Fred had been. She'd told me he had cried. I would never have imagined him crying until now. I didn't think it was possible.

I remember now how I had wanted so desperately to be there for her after the miscarriage, even though she had seemed somewhat... blank. Whenever I had seen her during her desk duty, she had been staring at something blankly, her eyes vacant. It had frightened me a little. She had always seemed so on top of things, that seeing her so lost in something that meant so much to her threw me off. She had seemed like a whole new person, one who needed help desperately but was too afraid to ask.

Even when she'd told me of the news, she hadn't seemed as upset as I thought she would have been. If that had been my kid... god... I don't know what I would have done.

Well, the obvious answer is that I would deal with the guy responsible, make him regret ever taking his first breath. I would make him pay, and pay dearly for such a crime. I wouldn't let him get away with it.

But Faith doesn't seem too affected. Maybe it was because she had only been about ten weeks pregnant. Maybe she hadn't grown too attached. She hadn't had a chance to get to know the baby inside of her. That chance had been ripped away from her.

Still, I can't help thinking I could have done something more for her. I know, without a doubt, that that hit should have been for me... I should have been the one pushing papers for three weeks. I should have been the one in pain every moment.

And I know I should have gotten out of that car and chased that bastard all that way. Maybe I would have got him... who knows?

I don't doubt Faith's ability to run down a perp, but I feel I might have somehow been able to save that baby if I had just gotten out of the damn car.

I always make the worst possible mistakes at the most important times. I hurt people, I offend them... I ignore them. I shouldn't. I shouldn't do any of that stuff... ever. Especially not to my friends. Especially not Faith. They don't deserve it... she doesn't deserve it.

Sometimes I think about requesting a transfer to another partner, just to give her a break, let her get away from me for a while. But then I think how much I need her, how I couldn't bear seeing her hurt... or killed. I wouldn't know what to do if that happened. How would I be able to live with myself?

I need to be more careful... I know that. I do know it. But I never seem to realise that I know it when I'm out there. It's like I become a different person whenever I put that uniform on.

I suppose we all do in a way, all of us... me, Faith, Sully, Ty... everyone. I've seen them out of work. They're not the same people... they're different somehow. They're happier.

Then why do I still feel so bad when I take it off? Maybe it's because I get too involved. Not in a personal way... more emotionally, where no one can see that I care.

Everyone thinks I'm heartless. I have no one to blame for that but myself. I put on a brave face that makes everyone around me think I don't care. I put up barriers, push people away. Why am I afraid to let people know that I have feelings like everyone else?

Why can't I show I care?