Gerry awoke to what he thought was the sound of the bedroom door shutting. He pulled himself to sit, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. Dawn had not long broken, with stray rays of sunlight shining through the windows, making patterns on the bed sheets. His mind flashed back to the events of the previous night.

After he had left Sandra asleep, he had gone down to the living room and prepared the sofa. It was only a couple of hours later when he was woken from his slumber by the sound of distress coming from up the stairs. With worry plaguing his dreams, he hadn't managed to achieve a deep sleep. He shot up the stairs and into his bedroom. Sandra had begun to stir in her sleep, tossing and turning from side to side. Tiny beads of sweat had begun to form along her hairline as she slept. He sat down on the side of the bed and contemplated waking her from her unconscious struggle. He gently tucked her hair behind her ear as she calmed for a minute. A thin layer of sweat covered her skin glistening in the moonlight and glueing her hair to her forehead. Before he had a chance to wake her, she bolted upright and gasped for air, taking a few panicky breaths. She surveyed her surroundings before sighing and feeling her forehead with the back of her hand. She let a sigh escape her slightly parted lips as she attempted to regain normal breathing. As her heart began to slow, she reached for the glass of water Gerry had left her on the bedside table. He watched her closely, inaudibly expressing concern for his friend after her nightmare. Her eyes soon met his, and silently pleaded for him to stay. She hadn't the energy to speak to him, her dreams still a vivid image in the front of her mind. She laid her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. The feel of Gerry softly running his fingers through her hair gave her something to focus on, pushing the nightmare further back in her mind.

He threw the bed covers back, and swung his legs from underneath them. He checked the time once more. The clock read just over 6.59am. The alarm began to sound, signalling that the clock had reached 7am. As he reached over to silence the irritating beeping, he realised that he had been right in thinking Sandra had been the cause of him waking from his slumber. He took a hold of the mug of tea Sandra had left for him, and sighed. Last night had been a night he had never wanted to encounter. After the chat they had in the office, he would never have expected her to turn up on his doorstep that night. He still hadn't been able to process all of the information he had gained recently; he thought Sandra was the least likely person he knew to go through all of this.

He got up and dressed before heading down to the kitchen. He still had some time before he had to leave for work, allowing him to wash his mug up by hand instead of throwing it in the dishwasher. As he waited for the kettle to boil, he realised that the kitchen had been tidied. He wasn't a messy person, and would never have a cluttered kitchen, but the few glasses from the previous night had been washed up and were laid on the side, the soapy bubbles trailing off the glass and onto the drainer. He studied the empty bottles of beer that were safely put away in the recycling, to make sure they were not broken. He counted them, sighing with relief that all of the bottles were intact. As he opened the fridge for the milk he needed for his coffee, he noticed the paper note Sandra had stuck underneath the small black magnet.

It read 'thank you'.

He leant against the counter, his finger running up and down the side of his mug, as he soon became lost in thought. Sandra had obviously not wanted to stick around and face what had happened last night, hence why she had left early. Part of him was angry at her, for running out on him, despite him showing over and over that he was there for her. He clenched his jaw as he thought about how she had disappeared and shut him out countless times. His whitened knuckles slowly relaxed their grip on the mug as he took a deep breath. He couldn't get angry at her. Last night was the biggest step she had made; ever. He was incredibly proud of her for coming to him when she really needed help, not letting her pride get in the way of her health. He realised that she could have easily gone to the hospital, but she chose to come to him instead. He was still in shock at her confession last night. He would never completely understand what drove a person to hurting themselves so severely. Every time he closed his eyes, a vision of her battered skin took over, the lines and array of colours embedded in his memory forever. He had never seen her so broken, and he was extremely worried. The Sandra he knew was not known to show this much vulnerability. Her tall walls she had built around herself were still standing, with cracks in the brickwork allowing him to peer inside, a witness to her acts of self destruction. He was sure that over the mere few days that had passed since he discovered that she hurt herself, there were now double the amount of cuts on her arms.

A quick glance at the clock above the doorway triggered a surge of panic washing over him like a tsunami. He had woken up so ridiculously early, and now he was going to be late. He hoped that Sandra wouldn't bollock him for being late, knowing that she was probably part of the cause.

Oh how wrong he was. As he waltzed into the office, 10 minutes late, he was faced with silence. Sandra stood in her doorway, the framework supporting her body. The cross look on her face told him everything he needed to know. He took her appearance in, not expecting her to relax her 'uniform' this much. Her usual black jeans were being sported, weirdly being paired with a navy hoodie. Gerry knew this was the one she had worn when she turned up at his front door. He glanced at the sleeves of her jacket, knowing exactly what they hid from the others' sight. Her eyes knew immediately where he was looking. She had surprised herself putting the covering on before leaving for work. There was a level of comfort that it provided, almost like an armour, protecting what lay underneath.

"What was it this time? One night stand late to leave?"

He sighed and dropped his bag at his desk. He'd expected her to be slightly angry, in order to maintain her work facade, but not this bad. The sternness in her voice had shocked him.

"Sandra,"

All attempts at pleading with her were knocked out of the window as she stormed over to the incident board and sighed. She began looking over the information, making mental notes as to how she was going to delegate the tasks to her team.

"Okay, so forensics came back this morning. The blood found under the passenger seat did not belong to Simon. However, it has come back as a match for a man called Buster Davies," she handed a piece of paper to Gerry before continuing, "Gerry and Steve, I'd like you to go and talk to him. I want to know how he knew Simon Page."

She gave a quick glance to the boys who had surrounded her by the board.

"Brian, could you go through the files and see if there is any mention in anything of Buster Davies. I am going to get a head start on this report, it sure is messy."

The man nodded his head and smiled as she spun on her heels and retreated to her office. The men let out a breath and Brian and Steve turned to face Gerry; knowing he wasn't meant to get caught in Sandra's wrath.

"Something has really pissed her off."

Steve turned to Gerry for answers; knowing that if anyone was going to get any information out of her, it would be him. He shook his head and grabbed his coat from the coat hook by the main doors.

"So Gerry, who was the mystery woman?"

A chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head at the Scot. He knew exactly what had put Sandra in a mood, but he definitely wasn't ready to be castrated by her for blabbing. He decided it better to keep quiet about everything as he and Steve left the office.

Sandra had angled her office blinds to give her a slight view of what was going on. She did not want them to be able to see her properly, but she needed to know when people were about to knock on her door. She sighed as Gerry and Steve left the office. Her line of view soon moved to Brian as he sat at his desk, waiting for a copy of the forensics and DNA profiling reports to come through the printer. She should have printed copies off already for him, knowing how he'd always preferred to have a hard copy he could scribble on and highlight key information. She soon turned her attention to her own computer screen, opening her word document and beginning the report. She hastily tapped in half a page of writing before opening the overflowing case file over her desk. Once she was satisfied with the organisation of the paperwork, she began combing through the reports. It soon became clear to her that she was not in the right frame of mind to be doing such important work. Leaning back in her chair, she began to think about the previous night. The panic began to feel good, and she knew she was almost ready. Not tonight, but soon. Since she had begun feeling so low, she had told herself that she was forbidden to do anything until she was able to go that far. Now she had hit her target, her plan could be put into action. She began to mentally prepare herself, grabbing a pen from the end of her desk and scribbling parts of her plan on a piece of scrap paper; regularly glancing at the window in case someone disrupted her.

An hour later, her glance at the window revealed an excited Brian hurrying to her door. She quickly screwed up her paper and hid it in the drawer closest to her. She waited for his knock on the door before inviting him in.

"Guv, I couldn't find Buster Davies anywhere in the file. But, I did find a Spencer Davies. I did a bit of digging and found that they are brothers."

Sandra sighed with relief, glad to be finally getting a step closer to the final result of the case.

"Brilliant Brian."

He spun on his heels ready to leave the office but quickly stopped in his tracks; knowing he had almost forgotten to tell her the most crucial piece of information.

"Oh, and get this. Spencer was classmates with Chris. Coffee?"

Her eyes shot up to meet his, knowing that Brian had just uncovered a missing piece of the puzzle. She began to speak, "Brian, meet Steve and go and see Spencer."

He nodded before grabbing his AFC Wimbolden scarf and his bike. He lent the bike against his desk and quickly made his guv a coffee. She hadn't actually replied to him, but he knew her well enough now to know when she needed one. He quickly brewed the mug and delivered it to her desk. She smiled in appreciation, silently thanking him before he shut her office door and disappeared from the main office.