A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed Brenda's presence in the previous chapter. I hope this chapter provides some closure as well.

As always, I'd like to thank blossom-of-snow for her excellent editing of this story.

A shiver went down Sharon's spine as she watched Philip Stroh marching his hostage in front of him at gunpoint, using her as a human shield. His trap had been quickly executed. Once he realized that the LAPD was on his tail, he began spreading clues as to his whereabouts, luring even the seasoned detectives in the task force into a building full of flammable chemicals.

Sharon and Fritz exchanged worried gazes. Despite the several weapons aimed at Stroh, a single bullet shot in or near the warehouse could cause a massive explosion that would destroy the entire block. At this point, the only way out of it was in a body bag for all of them.

Sharon's thoughts raced. There had to be a way out or at least a way to retreat and re-evaluate. If they managed to leave without blowing the warehouse, Stroh would kill his hostage. But at the same time, it would save the lives of everyone on the block. Once she made her decision, she caught Fritz's gaze again, prompting him to distract Stroh.

"You know this can't end well for you, don't you, Philip?" Fritz asked, and Sharon used the diversion to remove one hand from her gun and reach for her belt.

"If it does, then it will end badly for you, too. You can't win with me," Stroh said.

Sharon's fingers closed around a canister of tear gas and released it from her belt. This would hurt everyone in the room, but it was their best shot at saving their lives and disabling Stroh. She could see Fritz following her movement from the corner of his eye and very subtly nodding in her direction.

Sharon hooked her finger in the safety catch on the canister and yanked before throwing the canister towards Stroh. White smoke erupted from the can, filling the space around Stroh. Although one canister would probably do the job, Fritz threw another cartridge towards Stroh, and two of the officers in the room with them did the same. Sharon's eyes, nose, and throat were stinging, and her vision became clouded. A dark figure loomed to her vision, and someone brushed against her as he ran out of the warehouse. By the general direction he came from, Sharon was almost sure it was Stroh.

"Everyone, stay inside! Nobody leaves the building," Fritz yelled. Before Sharon could contradict him, he began dragging her towards the center of the room, where the smoke was thicker.

Sharon coughed and tried to move towards the exit, but Fritz held her back. "What are you doing?" She choked on her words. Mucous was streaming from her nose and mouth, and she was no longer able to see her surroundings at all.

They heard a loud shot and then another one. "SWAT," Fritz wheezed.

Fritz's radio crackled. "We've got him. Philip Stroh is dead."

"Everyone out!" Fritz ordered in a suffocated voice. "Now, out!"

Sharon felt him grabbing her arm, and she followed him, her vision still fully impaired. She knew they were outside the warehouse only when she felt the wind on her face, cooling the scorching burns.

"We need medical attention here," Fritz called out.

"Here, too," Sharon heard from her side, followed by another officer requesting medical attention.

She felt a presence by her side. "Get down on your knees and tilt your head back. I'm going to flush your eyes," a woman said.

Sharon did as she was told and felt a cold liquid being poured on her eyes. The pain relief was immediate but short. The woman repeated the same action several times and then brought a water bottle to Sharon's lips and instructed her to sip and spit. Sharon felt snot and saliva coming out of her nose and mouth as she spat the water and made another round.

"I can't see anything," Sharon groaned after the woman poured water on her eyes for the fourth time.

"Your vision will come back in about half an hour," the woman said. "I'm going to get you decontamination wipes so you can remove the gas residue from your face and hands."

After cleaning up and changing her clothes to avoid skin irritations, Sharon was instructed to sit and wait for her vision to return. Fritz sat by her side, also recovering from CS gas inhalation.

"That was incredibly brave," he said. "You saved a lot of people today."

"I feel anything but brave right now," Sharon said.

"Sorry for dragging you into the fumes. Tear gas can make even seasoned officers panic. I saw Stroh running outside and didn't want you to follow him and get hit by SWAT."

"You made the right call. Thank you, Chief," Sharon said.

Fritz fumbled for her hand and squeezed. "You'd do the same for me."

In the absence of a comforting smile, Sharon hummed. "Did the hostage survive?"

"She's injured, but she'll live," Fritz said. "Can you see anything yet?"

"Shapes and colors, mostly," Sharon replied and blew her nose into a tissue.

"Me too. I can't wait until I can see the bastard's body," he said.

"I feel like I won't be able to believe he's dead until I see him," Sharon said.

After Sharon and Fritz's eyesight returned, the paramedics released them. Some of the effects of the CS gas could last a few more hours, but both of them felt much better now and could breathe regularly and see their surroundings. The coroner had just zipped Stroh's body in a body bag when they reached him.

"Chief, Commander," Kendall said.

"We can identify him for you," Fritz said, and Kendall unzipped the bag, allowing them to see the body.

Upon seeing Stroh's face, the burdens of months, years, of fear and paranoia and pain lightened. At last, Stroh was sent to a place from which he would never escape. She hoped that he would burn there for all eternity.

The vibration of her phone in her pocket startled Sharon, but she quickly pulled it out and took the call.

"Andy," she gasped. "Stroh is dead."

"That's great news, babe. Are you ready for some more great news?" Andy asked.

Dare she hope for another miracle? "Always."

"Rainie is awake."

-TBC-