A/N: This work is purely to resolve my own issues at this point so if anyone is reading this and actually enjoying it, thanks! A few notes on this chapter: this takes place later in Season 4 once Andy and Sharon are dating, Fritz does NOT have heart issues, and Brenda and Fritz are a bit younger than in canon so that my head canon fits better. In case anyone actually is reading and cares, yes, Brenda is a little OOC, but Brenda was done so dirty in this show that my head canon has always been that she went on to live a good life and was able to find some happiness and redemption. Oh, and I plan on an epilogue. Thanks for reading!

Sharon couldn't help her wandering glance and pounding heart as she pulled into an open spot on the side of the road, the first stop on her way to the Ferndell Nature Museum. It was irrational, she told herself, but somehow she was expecting Brenda Leigh Johnson to pop out from behind a nondescript sedan in some sort of bright floral ensemble with her trademark dark sunglasses and massive shoulder bag. But it wasn't like she had seen Brenda at all since her departure from the LAPD so Sharon really had nothing else to compare it to.

As she had many times over the past several weeks, Sharon wondered again why exactly she had tangled herself up with this. She knew that the pull to not let this opportunity pass her by came from somewhere deep inside, but she also knew with equal certainty that to bring it all out and unpack it was likely to compel her to not actually follow through in the end. So Sharon found herself backed up against what she suspected and what she knew for sure as she took a deep breath and exited her car. Soon, at least, the first part of this unexpected turn of events would be over, and that could at least be some temporary relief.

Sharon thought back to the night of revelations in her condo, mentally paging through all of the truths she and Rusty had held unknowingly from one another about the very event and the very person who had in her own strange way brought them together. Sharon hadn't ever realized, until her name was spoken aloud and the floodgates opened once more, the impact the whole chain of unfortunate and crazed series of events had had on Rusty. Maybe Rusty hadn't even realized himself, Sharon mused, until it all was laid before them in the twilight of her living room.

"You know," Sharon commented carefully once Rusty had gently untangled himself from her and took his seat once more. "I don't think it ever really came up before, and I'm sorry for never thinking to ask, but were you disappointed to not see Brenda again? After all of the dust settled, I mean?"

Rusty was quiet for a minute, a sign that now he was actually mulling over his thoughts rather than scrambling to conceal them. "I don't know," he answered slowly. "I guess I never really thought about it. In the beginning, like when I first came home with you, I wanted to talk to her so badly because I thought she was the only one who could help me find my mom. But now I don't know why I thought that."

Sharon hummed a little in reply. "Brenda was - is, I assume, still - very good at her job. You weren't wrong to have put your faith in her. And if she had stayed in a position to have been able to help you, Brenda would have found your mom. Just like we did."

"Not that it made a difference," Rusty's voice held just a tinge of bitterness to offset the resignation. His mother was a difficult reality that he had come to accept, mostly thanks to Doctor Joe. "But, yeah, I did trust her for some reason. And I did understand that her leaving meant that she couldn't finish what she had started with me, even though it pissed me off. But then everything else just took off so quickly - between my mom skipping out again and school and Daniel - that I never really thought about it much after that."

Sharon thought back to the early days and weeks with Rusty - his refusal to sleep anywhere but the couch, his litany of complaints and demands and woes, the prickliness that he wore like a badge of honor but that Sharon recognized as the shield that it really was. "It's pretty significant that you trusted her," she observed. "You didn't trust many people back then. And to be together when Stroh attacked you, that tends to be an experience that people bond over." Sharon glanced at Rusty, trying to discern where his head was at from his posture in his chair - a near impossibility in the dark. "I'm sorry," she said after a moment, her tone dropping into a softer note than she'd used all night. "After what you and Brenda had been through together, I should have been a bit more mindful of how it might have helped you to stay in touch with her. Maybe that might have been a good thing for you."

Now it was Rusty's turn to dig deeper. "Why didn't you," he asked, but immediately clarified. "Not that...I mean, I don't blame you for not doing that. I don't think I really needed it. Or I wasn't hurt for not having it. But you thought of, like, everything else with me. School and rules and teaching me how to, like, be a real person. It just seems weird that you didn't think of that."

Sharon sighed. "It's not that I didn't think about it," she confessed. "But I talked myself out of it every time. Things didn't end badly with Brenda, not exactly, but I was still new and a bit uncertain in Major Crimes, and I was hesitant to seek her out. Maybe because I was afraid she'd be resentful that I'd ended up with her job or maybe because I'd feel more inadequate if I was around her. And I was a little afraid that you'd end up pulled into two different directions."

"Meaning?" Sharon took it as a small victory that Rusty seemed more curious than angry.

"Brenda and I are pretty different. Very different, in all honesty. And even though I'd come to feel fondly toward her by the end - especially after being with her in her house that night - I was a little afraid that Brenda's way of responding to you - with the case and your needs and everything you were dealing with - and no matter how well-intended, wouldn't necessarily be how I would handle things." Sharon chuckled wryly. "I was basically thinking like your parent from that very first day, if you hadn't already figured that out yet."

"Yeah, I, uh, caught that pretty early on," Rusty admitted, a smile evident in his own voice. "And I know you were protecting me, because Brenda was kind of a loose cannon with things and you didn't want me to be more confused than I already was with everything."

"That would about sum it up.'

"The weird thing is...you didn't have much to worry about with that. Like, even when I wasn't sure about you yet, and, you know, I had trusted Brenda to find my mom, I still knew that she wasn't...I don't know how to say it."

Sharon let Rusty sit quietly for a moment before pressing him on. "I won't care how it comes out. It's more important that it does."

Rusty let out a breath like he was gearing up for something stressful. "Okay, I guess, here it goes." He paused, then continued on carefully. "In the beginning, Brenda...she was an adult, but she seemed like me. How I felt. Lost. Alone even when I was...with other people, you know? But then, when I got you, and you were so different from her, from us, I guess, it made me realize that maybe I wanted to be that instead."

Sharon felt a myriad of emotions wash over her. Pride, that Rusty was so good at reading the damn room. Vindication of sorts, because how many times had she herself made the same assessment of a certain Deputy Chief? Sadness, that Rusty had suffered so in his young life before he'd come into her care. And love, love that blossomed in her chest and overpowered everything else. Love for her son, and amazement that somehow she had become the person he had striven to be like. "What was I that you wanted to be?"

"Normal. Okay, that sounds bad. Um, stable? Like well-adjusted? I mean, Brenda was nice and all and she was pretty good at her job. And her husband is okay and they, like, definitely seem to love each other. But she was...broken, I guess. And I was, too. And she would have tried, maybe, but how could she have really helped me when she couldn't help herself?"

"I wish you could have known her before. Before the end, I mean." Sharon's eyes misted a bit at the poignancy of it all.

"Didn't you hate her then?"

Sharon chuckled. "She drove me crazy. But she was so, so good at what she did. And so empowered and confident and brilliant. She truly was. Once I got over the hating part a bit, I used to watch her in that murder room and at crime scenes and she'd blow me away. She was - she is - incredible."

"So what happened to her? How did she go from that person she was to the one that I met?"

Sharon sighed. "The world caught up to her a bit. And once things started downhill, they didn't seem to stop...and that was about where you came in." She thought back to their tangled conversation so far and had the sense that from across the room, Rusty was doing the same.

"Did anyone ever talk to her after Stroh escaped?" Rusty's sudden question exploded into the silence. "Not, like, to tell her that it happened, because of course Chief Howard did. But did anyone from Major Crimes ever see if she was okay?"

Sharon thought back guiltily to the hours and days and even weeks so far since Stroh's escape. The immediate concern for Rusty that persisted to this day. The secondary concern for her. The careful looks and kind words and occasional brushes on her shoulder and hand on her lower back, although that last part was just Andy being...whatever it was that she and Andy were these days. If anyone from her team had talked to Brenda, they certainly hadn't told her about it. And strangely enough, she realized Fritz Howard hadn't said a word to her just as she hadn't said a word to him.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Maybe. I didn't. I probably should have. Chief Howard never said anything, so I guess I never really thought about it."

"You were pretty focused on keeping me alive."

"And I still am, mister," Sharon shot back a bit playfully, trying to hide the sheer desperation that was lurking just below the surface. It had been a long road, these last few months.

"Brenda still works with the DA's office, right," Rusty asked. "Didn't you say that she had been offered a job somewhere else but she turned it down so that Chief Howard could take his job offer instead?"

"As far as I know," Sharon answered slowly, wondering where this all was going. "Why?"

"I think maybe I would like to see her. Just to, like, see how she's doing. I know that you all, like, know how I feel about Stroh escaping - you more than anyone - but Brenda...she was there that night. He almost killed her, too. I bet she probably feels a lot like us. And I want to talk to her."

Sharon never would have expected that this was how this night would go. "I can talk to Chief Howard tomorrow and get her phone number. Maybe feel him out a little about her before getting in touch."

"It shouldn't just be me, either," Rusty said suddenly. "You...you should come, too. It...it might be good for all three of us."

"I will if you want me to," Sharon answered smoothly even as her mind raced. "And it would be nice to see how she is. But why...what made you decide that?"

"Everything is different now," Rusty said seriously. "You're different. You're not the same person who took over Major Crimes and wasn't sure how you fit. And I'm not the same either, mostly because of you. So that means that Brenda probably isn't either. And that's a good thing, right? That's like some hope, even though Stroh is out there and that really sucks. If we could all manage to be better even though all of these things have happened...it's like none of us are broken now. Even if we were."

Now Sharon really did want to cry. "You were never broken," she managed. "Never did I ever see you as broken. Nor will you ever be."

"I know that now," Rusty's voice was strong enough to pull Sharon out of her near-tears. "And if I know that now, maybe Brenda does too. Maybe she managed to put herself back together."

Sharon tried to keep herself in check as she made her way from her car to the museum, not that it was a true museum in the traditional sense of the word. She couldn't stop herself from scanning the expanse of trees and woods and nature, so different from her typical surroundings, looking for a flash of blonde that would morph into Brenda Leigh Johnson but also anticipating the sudden rise of panic and nausea and fear that would signal Philip Stroh. Why, of all places, had Rusty suggested Trails?

To say this wasn't her choice of meeting spot would be an understatement. Sharon would have preferred a breezy lunch at a casual but comfortable restaurant downtown or close to the condo. Part of her had entertained asking Rusty if they shouldn't just invite Brenda to the condo for...coffee? Afternoon tea? But the whole concept suddenly had seemed so absurd to Sharon, who was usually an unflappable, competent hostess, that she'd abandoned the whole idea and had simply deferred to what she hoped would be Rusty's good judgment. But then Rusty had suggested Trails Cafe of all places, leading to a myriad of emotional and logistical hurdles to cross.

Sharon hadn't had the heart to unpack Rusty's familiarity with Trails, considering that it was located in Griffith Park - the setting that had inadvertently brought them all together - but she herself had lived in Los Angeles long enough to know that one simply just didn't park and head to the cafe. There was a walk involved. But maybe Rusty knew what he was doing after all, Sharon mused as she made her way toward the trail head. Perhaps the three of them sitting stiffly around a table or on a sofa was no way to broach the years and distance and trauma that this meeting was intended to address. Once she'd wrapped her head around it a bit, Sharon could appreciate the idea of her and Rusty and Brenda walking together, slowly warming back up to one another, before sitting down face to face. So after Rusty had pinned down a plan that he seemed to be comfortable with, Sharon had taken the next promised step.

Sharon knocked on Deputy Chief Howard's open door, annoyed at herself for the hesitancy that she read into her own movements and hoping at the same time that Fritz Howard would be none the wiser. She felt a bit better when the Chief looked up from his paperwork and gestured her inside, his face relaxing a bit from the tension that had darkened his features just moments before. It was hard adjusting to a new position, Sharon thought as she stepped carefully inside. She could speak to that first hand.

"Captain," Chief Howard was saying, jarring her out of her thoughts. "It's always nice when there's a familiar face to pull me away from the neverending paperwork cycle."

Sharon tried a smile. "I don't mean to take you away from anything."

"You're not. Trust me, this is nothing that can't wait." The Chief gestured toward one of the chairs in front of his desk and Sharon sat gratefully. "What can I do for you? You guys got a case?"

"This...um. No, Major Crimes doesn't have a case. Not one for SOB, that is." Sharon felt herself fumbling and tried in vain to catch herself. She hadn't expected this to be so difficult. She glanced up to find Chief Howard studying her carefully.

"Sharon," he said gently, so gently that Sharon could once again see, just like she had so many times since Fritz Howard had officially joined their ranks, why Brenda had fallen for him. "What is it?"

Sharon forced herself to meet his eyes. "It's nothing serious," she admitted. "I just had something to ask you, but nothing major. I don't even know why this all seems so uncomfortable."

"I don't think I've ever seen you nervous," Fritz commented lightly even as he continued to watch Sharon appraisingly. "And I'm curious, so now you have to come out with it."

Sharon smiled unexpectedly, breaking some of the tension a bit. "I came to ask you about Chief Joh - about Brenda," she caught herself hastily. "If that's all right."

Now Fritz just looked confused. "Sharon, why wouldn't that be all right? Brenda's...Brenda's good. Great, even. Despite this whole mess with Stroh again."

"I'm glad to hear that," Sharon answered, feeling some of her confidence returning. "Really, I am. It's just...Rusty and I were talking recently, about Stroh and Brenda. And it occurred to both of us that it's been quite awhile since…" And now she was faltering all over again. Why was this so difficult?

Fritz's eyes softened. "Since you've talked to her? Or seen her? You or Rusty?"

Sharon sighed. "Something like that. I…I wish I had been better about staying in touch. For both of them."

"It's not like you didn't have anything else to worry about," Fritz pointed out. "A new division to run, a foster child with his own issues. The case going to trial."

"Still." Sharon didn't want to make excuses. "With the way everything happened, I should have tried harder. I...I've thought of her often. I just never acted on it."

Fritz studied her with such scrutiny that even Sharon had to resist the urge to squirm. "If I'm being honest," he finally said. "I've told her I can't even tell you how many times over these last few years to call you. I think it would have done her some good. Maybe you, too. So it's not just on you, Sharon."

"I came to see you to ask you for her phone number," Sharon said, emboldened by Fritz's words and her own confession of sorts. "And to see if you thought she would be okay with me calling."

Sharon was surprised to find herself at the receiving end of the sort of smiles that she'd only ever seen Fritz Howard direct toward his wife. "I think she would be more than okay with you calling," he said as he reached for a Post-it. "Maybe it's not my business, really, but the two of you...I'd hoped that you would stay in touch."

"I do wish that I had," Sharon admitted. "Especially for Rusty's sake. It's become more apparent to me recently that with what the two of them went through together, it might have helped if they had had more contact. And I should have done more to facilitate that."

"It would be good for Brenda and Rusty, sure," Fritz agreed easily. "But I think it would be good for you and her, too."

Now it was Sharon's turn to eye him curiously. "Chief Howard," she began, but backtracked at his look. "Fritz. If you don't mind my asking, why?"

"I don't know if I can explain it," Fritz offered thoughtfully. "You and Brenda, for all of your differences and fighting - because let's call it what it was - you were good for her. And if you don't mind me saying so, I think that she was good for you, too."

"I'm certainly better at what I could have been in Major Crimes because of Brenda. Watching her work and coming to learn why she did what she did, in the way that she did it. It helped me in ways I never could have imagined." Sharon had never, even to herself, put these thoughts into words before today. She could scarcely believe she was doing it now, to Brenda's husband no less.

"That's not exactly what I mean. And don't sell yourself short, Sharon. You're plenty good at what you do all on your own. It's...I still don't know how to explain it. The two of you...it's good that you're going to call her. I think for everyone involved, it's good, even though I'm doing a pretty terrible job at explaining why."

Sharon reached forward to take the offered Post-it. "I think it'll be good, too," she said softly. "Will you tell her that I'll be calling? That, uh, might help me to actually do it and not lose my nerve."

Fritz only shook his head, a slight smile on his face. "The two of you," he said. "Unbelievable, how alike you are. I've been telling Brenda to call you for months - years - now, and she's made excuse after excuse. Finally admitted that she was worried about bothering you or opening a door that you'd rather keep closed. Not that she didn't want to see you. Not at all."

"She wouldn't have been bothering me," Sharon retorted honestly. "I never would have been unhappy or thought it to be inappropriate if she reached out. I'm sorry she didn't."

"And it's the same with Brenda," Fritz answered, so swiftly that it felt to Sharon like he was gearing up for the grand finale. "Trust me, Sharon. She wants to hear from you. And you seem to want to be in touch with her - you and Rusty both. Someone has to make the first move here. And you know how stubborn my wife can be. So, please, Sharon, hang onto that resolve of yours and call her. Please. For everyone's sake."

Sharon, strangely, found herself smiling. "Well, Chief Howard, since you've put it that way," she said easily as she stood up and smoothed her skirt. "Rusty's already suggested a place so I guess all that's left is to call Brenda and set a date."

Fritz Howard smiled back. "I think you'll be glad that you did. I think all three of you will."

Sharon thought back on the initial phone call as she approached the trailhead, still scanning for familiar faces - welcome and unwelcome - even as she rationalized that Philip Stroh was not going to show up in Griffith Park of all places. Fritz had clearly given Brenda a heads up; when Sharon had called, Brenda had been warm and clearly happy to hear from her, but also refreshingly direct about making plans to meet in person. Sharon had shared Rusty's suggestion - the Trails Cafe on an early Saturday afternoon, adding with some trepidation that Rusty had a mid-morning study group and that he planned to meet them at the cafe itself, giving Sharon and Brenda time on their own to meet and walk there. But Brenda had been surprisingly nonplussed about what Sharon viewed as a blatant attempt on Rusty's end to get the two of them alone and agreed easily. She still wondered what all of the fuss seemed to be; even Andy had jumped enthusiastically on the bandwagon when she'd told him about her weekend plans, becoming the third person so far to make comments about how good this would be for Sharon and Brenda both. But Sharon was starting to feel, literally and figuratively, like she couldn't see the forest through the trees. Or the former Deputy Chief through all the tourists and weekend health nuts.

"Sharon?" A familiar voice pulled Sharon from her reverie. Here we go, Sharon thought, surprised as she felt herself nearly boiling over with equal parts anticipation and nervousness. She turned before her introspection could do her more harm than good, and suddenly there she was, Brenda Leigh Johnson standing before her, looking as if no time and all the time had passed all at once.

Sharon knew that she ought to say something, and she would eventually, but for now all she could do was to take her in. Brenda Johnson, who Sharon always had to remind herself actually stood shorter than her, in jeans and slip-on shoes and a striped t-shirt under a fitted zip-up hoodie, with her blonde hair pulled back into a casual half-ponytail. Sharon didn't know if it was the clothes or the setting or the years - strangely - but Brenda seemed lighter, somehow. Happier. As if somehow the faintest of lines on her face were from joy and laughter rather than worry and sorrow. And Sharon felt herself relax just marginally as the full force of her realization hit her. Brenda was okay.

"Sharon, you look wonderful," Brenda was saying, and Sharon barely had time to respond before Brenda had stepped forward to hug her easily. "It really is so good to see you. I'm so glad that you called. I've been wanting to for so long but never managed to get up the nerve."

Sharon was astounded by both the hug and the string of words, likely more truths than Brenda had spoken in one swoop in all of their years of knowing, and often mistrusting, one another. "I'm really happy that you came," she said, offering her own honesty as she hugged Brenda back. "And I know Rusty will be, too. He'll be here in a little bit."

"I can't wait to see him," Brenda commented as she pulled back. "Fritz told me that you adopted him. That's...that's amazing, Sharon. Truly."

"He's the amazing one," Sharon said modestly as they fell into step side by side. "I never felt like something was missing from my life but now...I can't imagine not having him in it. It's been unexpected but so unbelievably rewarding. Rusty is such a gift." She felt her throat unexpectedly closing as her emotions threatened to overcome her, but just as suddenly, Brenda's hand was on her arm.

"I remember that one of the last things I said to you was about finding Rusty's mom," Brenda said softly. "And you did. Because little did I know, you were already right there. Like it was meant to be."

"Maybe it was." Sharon wiped at the sudden moisture in her eyes. "He's my bonus child. He's like the one I never knew was missing until I had him. And with everything that's happened, I just can't imagine letting him go."

Brenda was quiet for a moment as they walked, each lost in their own heads among the trees and the shadows. "Do you hate me," she finally asked, and Sharon was thrown for a loop not just with the words, but with the resigned tone in which they were spoken.

"Hate you? Brenda, whatever for?" But Sharon had a sickening sense that she knew where this was going. This was why they were all here, wasn't it?

Brenda seemed so calm that Sharon had to wonder how often she'd imagined this moment, rehearsed it even. "For not killing the man who tried to kill your son?" She looked over at Sharon carefully as if she was trying to gauge her reaction. "It's okay if you do. You'd have every right. I hate myself for it at times, more than what's probably healthy."

"I don't hate you," Sharon said swiftly, her mouth working nearly as quickly as her mind was firing. It was a truth and a lie all at once.

Amazingly, Brenda looked more amused than anything else. "I haven't been taking confessions for a long time now," she commented easily. "But even I can see that's not the whole truth."

Sharon rolled her eyes, breaking up her own tension a little even as she internally marveled at the surreality of it all. How was it that Brenda Leigh Johnson managed to bring out the qualities in herself that she disliked most of all? "Brenda, you could never take an official confession ever again and you'd still be able to pick out a lie from a mile away. Doesn't it ever drive you crazy?"

"It's a bit exhausting, I'll admit. But I think you're deflecting a bit, Captain." Brenda slowed her steps and reached for Sharon's arm to gently tug her to a stop. "Just say it, whatever it is. I can take it. It's...I'm...things aren't the same as when you last saw me. I'm not as fragile as I had gotten to be back then."

"I didn't see you as fragile," Sharon shot back before she could even process. "Even at the end, with everything that happened. You were - you are - one of the strongest people I know. And even the strongest people can have terrible things thrown at them."

Now Brenda's eyes held a challenge. "Even the strongest people can break," she countered. "And even the most moral and upstanding ones can hate. Especially when it's justified."

Sharon felt all of the usual emotions that accompanied Brenda Leigh Johnson, previously dormant over the past several years, crash around her. Frustration. Pity. Fury. Affection. All of which warred inside her as she fought the urge to scream. Or argue back. Or flee. But before Sharon could do any of those things, she thought inexplicably to Rusty. Rusty, whose words in her condo all those nights ago were surprisingly similar to the ones that Brenda was so acceptingly expressing. They weren't so different, Sharon realized, her son and Brenda. And maybe that would be the bridge.

Sharon willed her heart rate to slow and her voice to steady before she finally spoke. "Okay," she said softly, finally finding Brenda's eyes and looking at her fully. She was glad that there seemed to be little foot traffic today as she and Brenda had essentially come to a stop in the middle of the trail.

"Okay," she said again, finding her resolve and also, with some surprise, a smile. "How is it that all of this time has passed and here we are, the two of us still egging each other on?" She was relieved when Brenda smiled back.

"We always were a bit like oil and water," Brenda agreed. "Although I said that to Fritz once and I got a science lesson. He thought oil and vinegar was more like it." At Sharon's confused look, she continued. "He said that even though they don't mix, oil and vinegar are good together, if it's done right."

Sharon actually laughed. "You always did drive me crazy," she said honestly, not minding the affection that crept into her voice as she looked the younger woman up and down. To her surprise, it felt a bit more like chastising a sweet but maddening younger sister than the headstrong and often obtuse workplace headache Brenda had been to her all of those years before.

"That's pretty mutual. But you were good to me. And you were often right, even when I didn't want to hear it. And in the end, strong or not, I wasn't...right. Not myself, I mean. I wasn't who I really wanted to be, but it took me a while to get there."

Sharon could see it all starting to dovetail. "And you got there on that last night. With Stroh in your kitchen."

Brenda seemed to be steeling herself before she spoke. "Yes. It...it was a crossroad. I couldn't keep it up, what I was doing and who I'd become. And I know that it was the right thing for me, to walk away. To not hear it, to not kill him. But sometimes, especially lately, I wish with all of my heart that I hadn't had to choose. That it hadn't been Stroh at the center of the crossroad."

"I don't hate you." This time, Sharon's voice was softer but sure and she reached for Brenda's hand with both of hers. "Truly, Brenda. I wish there was another way, another choice that could have been made. But I don't hold you responsible."

"That's generous of you to say." Brenda curled her fingers around Sharon's, holding tight. "But I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"I wish sometimes that you could have," Sharon confessed, her speech now rushed as her heart finally put it all into words and her voice ushered it out into the space between them. "Even though I know why you didn't. And I'm not so lacking in self-awareness that I don't realize how I contributed to that. How all of us did, really. Me and Pope and Taylor. Gabriel and Goldman. Everything that happened to you - that you were put through - set the stage for what happened."

"So much had gone wrong. With everything. And there was a part of me that wanted so badly to shoot him. To end it. And then I'd just be the person everyone had already assumed I was, even if I kept my job. Unethical and messy and out of control. But I knew even in that moment that I'd never come back from it. I'd always be that worst version of myself. I'd live down to everyone's expectations. And that wasn't who I was. Or who I wanted to be."

Sharon felt her eyes welling. "That was never who you were. I never would have wanted you to feel that way. And I've had to face, over the years, that we all played a role in that. That you not shooting Stroh was the best and worst thing all at once and for different reasons."

"It's been harder lately. I've never felt such regret about not shooting him until he escaped and everyone was at risk all over again. It...it feels like I chose myself over everyone else now that it's all happened like it did." Brenda looked away, the tears in her own eyes apparent.

"It's not your fault," Sharon said swiftly. "Brenda, none of this is your fault. I don't blame you - I've never blamed you - for any of this. Not even now."

"Maybe you should." Brenda's voice warbled. "It wouldn't be off base. Especially with Rusty now at even more of a risk."

Sharon dropped her gaze to Brenda's hand, stroking lightly at her fingers until she could sense that Brenda had turned her head back toward her.

"He's your son," Brenda said softly. "And even though it was the last thing I ever wanted to do, I put him in danger. I let a dangerous man live so that I could redeem myself and try to rebuild my own life and now your son's life is at risk because of it. There's nothing that I could ever do to make that right."

"In some strange way, if it wasn't for you, he wouldn't even be my son. And even with everything we've all survived and suffered through, I can't imagine a life that he wasn't a part of. And I will always, always remember that you brought him to me." Sharon met Brenda's eyes again. "I was just telling Rusty recently that if you had killed Stroh, Rusty would never have come into my custody. Or been on our radar at all. He would have been another child abandoned in the system. But he isn't. He's...he's wonderful and resilient and just...mine. I love him so much, Brenda. And I'd rather live with Stroh loose and Rusty as my son than to have lived the rest of my life without him but with Stroh dead." And there it was, Sharon realized. The stone cold truth of it all. In a choice between peace and tension, safety and danger, normalcy and terror, she'd choose Rusty every single time. Her love for Rusty would always win. And the scales would finally be tipped on the thin line she'd always danced with Brenda Leigh Johnson, because without Brenda there would have been no Rusty.

Sharon was barely aware that she had started to cry until suddenly Brenda's arms were around her. She'd never pegged the younger woman for the hugging type, and yet here were two in under twenty minutes.

"I knew that you'd find his mom," Brenda whispered somewhere in the vicinity of her ear. "I never doubted that you would take care of him, that you'd help him. But to know everything that you did, that he's yours now and he's okay, that something wonderful came out of something so awful...it's helped on some pretty dark days."

"He helped me some, too." Sharon hugged Brenda's waist affectionately before pulling back a little. She smiled fully at Brenda as Brenda gently disengaged and took a step back. "I have to say, you never really struck me as much of a hugger."

Brenda laughed easily as they started walking again. "I could say the same for you," she teased before turning serious again. "I'm...even with all of that…" she waved her hand between them as if to indicate all of the baggage they'd unpacked together. "The last few years have been good. Better than I ever could have expected."

"How do you like the DA's office," Sharon asked as they meandered toward their final destination. "I suppose it's odd we never crossed paths even once."

Brenda's sideways look told her enough even before she spoke. "I tried to keep my distance," she explained. "I didn't want to make it awkward for anyone. And the job's fine. Interesting work, but I tried for this one just to be a job, you know? And David didn't stick around for too long, which was a blessing in some ways. He was better off trying to rebuild outside of LA, without me to fight his battles. But it was a bit...difficult when Fritz joined the LAPD. I didn't expect that one."

"Me either. And I can imagine how strange that must have felt."

"As strange as...dating a subordinate?" Sharon whipped her head toward Brenda as Brenda raised her eyebrow teasingly. "Come on, Sharon, you had to know that you and Flynn would be the talk of PAB."

"To be fair," Sharon said, aware that her dignified tone had Brenda wearing a full grin and feeling too amused to even be offended. "I didn't see that one coming either."

"But it's...you two are?"

Sharon let Brenda squirm a moment before throwing her a life preserver. "Good," she said maddeningly before elaborating. "Like...really good. I think it could really be something. Andy is…" Sharon blushed as her words dropped off.

"I always thought he had a little thing for you," Brenda shared in a conspiratorial tone. "Even when he seemed to dislike you so much, it was almost like he...well, you know. Thin line between love and hate and all of that."

Sharon shot Brenda an amused smile. "Thin line indeed," she observed, watching as Brenda got the message and smiled back. "And I guess you and Fritz are happy?"

Something that Sharon couldn't decipher flickered across Brenda's face as they came upon Trails. She followed Brenda off to the side once they'd climbed the steps, presumably to wait for Rusty, and waited for Brenda to fill in the blanks.

"Yes," Brenda said simply as they'd settled comfortably standing side by side, looking out over the trail and scanning for Rusty. "Very much so. It's...it's actually pretty unbelievable." Sharon caught her eye as Brenda seemed to make up her mind. "I'm...um. I'm pregnant."

Oh. Wow. Sharon was caught off guard but also immediately thrilled in a way that she wouldn't have anticipated. "Oh, Brenda," she breathed. "That's wonderful. Congratulations." This time, it was Sharon who reached out to hug Brenda gently before pulling back just enough to give her a careful onceover.

Brenda unzipped her hoodie fully as she smiled at Sharon's sudden scrutiny. "Guess I didn't do a bad job at camouflaging," she joked. "Not that it's a secret, but I didn't want it to be the first thing on display either. Although I suppose that option won't last for too much longer."

"Probably not," Sharon agreed, remembering her own pregnancies. "Oh, Brenda, look at you." She smoothed a hand across the slight curve of Brenda's belly before she could catch herself, but Brenda reached out to hold her hand in place before she could apologize and withdraw.

"It was definitely a surprise," Brenda confessed softly. "But a good one. Fritz had always wanted kids but I could never get around to it. We had a scare before we were even married and I remember just like...putting it in a drawer in my desk to deal with later. But I never did. Or I made excuses because I was scared and short-sighted. And with my mom...she had been wanting to tell me something but I didn't make time to hear it. And it finally occurred to me that there were so many things I'd never made time for that were going to pass me by, just like her. It was meant to be, I suppose, because this all was completely unexpected."

"But not unwelcome," Sharon observed, finally putting together the light in Brenda's eyes and the absence of regret and worry and urgency in her mannerisms. "I'm so happy for you. Are you...how are you feeling?"

"Better than I thought I would be," Brenda admitted, dropping her gaze to her midsection and her and Sharon's tangled hands. "I'd sort of thought that if it came to this, it would be something I'd endure, I guess, more for Fritz's sake. But this is something else entirely. I never knew how much I could want something - someone - I haven't even met yet. And it does feel a bit like a chance to get this second half of my life right."

"You didn't do badly on the first part," Sharon chided gently. "But this is definitely a different beast. It's not always fun but it's amazing. It really is."

Brenda eyed her curiously. "Did you like being pregnant?"

Sharon smiled as she thought back to so many years ago. "Mostly. But especially when they moved. It made it all so much more real. But then, of course, labor makes it very, very real and that's usually pretty terrible"

Brenda laughed. "So I hear. But other than that, a lot to look forward to, it sounds like."

Sharon spotted Rusty in the distance just then. She watched him approach, taking advantage of the time to covertly drink him in before he noticed the two of them waiting. She could feel Brenda following her gaze. "Definitely a lot to look forward to," Sharon agreed. "More than you'll ever see coming, even now."

"You know," Brenda commented as Sharon gently dropped their hands. "This feels like meeting Rusty all over again. Like he's still the same boy from all those years ago, but he's not all at once. Because, when you get right down to it, I'm meeting your son for the first time."

Sharon brushed Brenda's arm lightly as she watched Rusty spot them and wave, a grin on his face as he headed for the stairs. "I couldn't have known it at the time, but Rusty was like my light at the end of the tunnel. He was my turning point, too. I changed jobs and divorced my husband, finally, and adopted my son and...got together with Andy. I hope your baby is as healing for you and Fritz as Rusty has been for me."

Brenda barely had time to give Sharon a meaningful look before Rusty was standing in front of them. And Sharon found herself watching with unexpected emotion as her son, her Rusty, the boy who they had saved and had managed to save her, save the both of them, in his own way, embraced the woman who had brought Sharon's son to her on what was to be her own first step toward some sort of redemption. They'd finally come full circle.