So it has definitely been a while, I know. But I do have an excellent excuse! I was in Argentina for two whole months and now I have school, which is mighty ridiculous.

This is a response to that very dramatic finale last season. Something tells me the new season is going to blow. Italics are from a Silversun Pickups song. Annnnnd I have another one written already that just needs the right ending, so worry not.

"I still sleep on the right side of the white noise, can't leave the scene behind."

She woke up with a start. The low whir of a vacuum being pushed across carpet jarred her from sleep. Valera groaned and turned toward the digital clock on the bedside table, it's glowing letters broadcasting that it was 1:47 A.M. Annoyed and grumpy, she rolled on her back and stared up at the ceiling. She lay there, discontent for a moment, before she realized that her fiancé, Ryan, was cleaning the house at nearly two in the morning. This could not be good.

Valera slid out of bed and silently moved across their bedroom floor. She wasn't quite sure what she was getting herself into. She and most of their colleagues knew about his OCD and she could easily pick it out in the neatness of his clothes, his car, his kit, his locker and his house. Nothing was out of place and dirty dishes never sat in the sink for too long. Granted, it was a bit bizarre for Valera when they first started going out, but he had pretty good control over it and it never got in the way of their relationship, personal or professional. She had seen him clean before, but never like this. This was something new, this was something scary.

She wasn't sure how to approach the situation; should she interrupt him or wait until Ryan has satisfied whatever urge made him break out the vacuum cleaner at two in the morning? Valera decided that standing just outside the living room, watching him push the machine across an already bare rug was safe enough. She was perturbed by the way his forehead creased and his eyes fixated on the carpet. He was obviously preoccupied with some thought by the way he chewed at his lip. She wanted to step into the living room and flap her arms until he noticed and switched off the offending noise, but the sight of him like this cemented her to the floor.

It took Ryan three minutes to notice his sleep tousled fiancée standing there with a look of concern creased into her face. Giving the vacuum cleaner one last push around the coffee table and in between the lamp and couch, he turned it off and began to carefully wind the cord up. He wasn't sure what to say. How was he supposed to go about explaining this to her?

"Ryan." Valera's voice broke the newly acquired silence. "Why are you vacuuming? It's like two in the morning, come back to bed."

"I-I can't, Max, I can't." Ryan wheeled the vacuum cleaner back to its designated spot in the closet and busied himself with the task of grouping together the empty hangers. He wanted to go back to bed, he really did, but so much had happened in the past few weeks that he was overwhelmed and cleaning obsessively was his automatic coping mechanism.

Valera crossed the living room in a few strides, appearing at his side. "What are you doing?" she was worried about him and still wasn't sure what to do. Of course they had discussed his OCD, but they hadn't covered what to do when something like this happened. Probably because stuff like this never happened.

"Fixing things." He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes he was afraid of what would happen if he did.

"Can you please look at me?" She asked quietly, touching his arm.

Ryan pretended not to hear her.

"Damn it, Ryan. Organizing the closet isn't going to fix anything!" The combination of frustration at what to do and worry got to Valera and she snapped at him.

His movements stilled.

"What else am I supposed to do, Max? I can't sleep!" His voice broke and for a minute, she thought he was going to cry.

"I…I don't know." She admitted defeat. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's not much to say." He mumbled.

"I know a lot has happened…" She began carefully.

"Well, that's a fucking understatement." Ryan replied flatly, having grown sick of the psychoanalytical talk he'd been hearing lately.

her patience was paper thin. "Ryan, quit being so damn negative, I'm trying my best, you don't-"

"I don't what Maxine?" He was yelling now. "I had to turn in one of my co-workers because she was tampering with evidence! Do you know how much scrutiny the lab is going to come under?! First me, now Tara and then I had a gun pointed in my face!" She had never heard him yell like this before and for the first time in a very long time, the pajama clad DNA analyst had nothing to say. Ryan was shaking as he yelled, his eyes boring holes into her. "And then you know what happened? My best friend was involved in a shoot out and went missing and I can't do a damn thing about it! So, tell me Maxine, what the fuck am I supposed to do? I can either gamble or vacuum and let me tell you something, vacuuming is a hell of a lot more productive than gambling! That's how I relieve stress, I just-" his voice softened and he took a deep breath. "Eric's one of my best friends, Max and he's missing and Calleigh, God knows what she's going through and I should be able to do something and I can't." his voice was shaking.

Maxine closed the gap between them as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Her own brown eyes were swollen with tears as she wrapped her arms around him. "I know."

"When you see yourself in crowded room, do your fingers itch, are you pistol-whipped?

Will you step in line or release the glitch? Can you fall asleep with a panic switch?"