She couldn't take it anymore. Everything was piling in on top of her and she couldn't even reach a hand from under the rubble to tap someone else in. Her shoulders actually ached from the weight of it all and she walked slowly because her joints felt as if they were on fire. She just needed to sit down, just for one minute and breathe, just to get her bearings back. It was like being pulled in a million different directions but worse somehow, and she wasn't sure if she could pull hard enough back towards herself to gather all her pieces again.

The office was quiet and dark and she slipped inside, craving the nothingness that it afforded. She closed the door behind her and sat down on the couch in the corner taking a deep breath.

She didn't know where the tears came from but they were there in full force, beating her on the inside and weakening her on the outside. She'd already cried a few times, but nothing like the sobs that were coming out now. It wasn't just the fight, it was everything. It went back to the bank the year before, back to her father in the hospital, back to the fight with Adam, back to so many things that she thought were fine but really weren't. She thought she had dealt with them. And maybe she had, but she'd never let them go. She held onto hurt with the same intensity she held onto love and it had gotten her to this place quite a few times before.

She couldn't sit up anymore and she slowly laid down across the couch, her arms wrapped around her stomach as the sounds of her own cries drowned out everything else. It could have been minutes or hours she laid there, her skin hot with angst, her throat rough and her nose running. She was a mess everywhere, the outside looked as bad as the inside and for a while she really didn't care.

"Lindsay?"

She opened her eyes at the sound of her name and found Jo staring down at her, concern etched deep into her face. She couldn't say a word because the tears were still coming fast so she shook her head instead. Jo crouched down and touched her forehead, not looking for a fever, but using a touch connoted as maternal to try and instill a little calm.

"What's the matter, honey child?" she asked, her voice slithering into southern as the emotion took hold of it. She hated to see anyone like this, and it always made her feel it more deeply when it was a friend.

"I'm so tired," Lindsay nearly wailed, trying desperately to catch her breath. "I can't hold it all anymore. I just can't."

"What can't you hold, Lindsay?"

"Everything!" she said, sitting up and scrubbing at her eyes. "Why am I the one that always has to be strong? Why do I always have to take the blame? Why do I always have to forget how I hurt because it's too hard for someone else? Why do I always have to fix everyone and everything else? Why can't I fall apart? Why can't I let go? I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!"

She was yelling now, her words punctuated with a fist to the cushions. She was seething and her hands were starting to shake and every time she blinked it was as if her eyes became hotter and hotter.

"Then get mad, Lindsay!" Jo said, her voice stern. "Let yourself get mad. Do it, right now."

"I am mad! I'm mad and I'm hurt and I want to break things."

"Do it!" Jo encouraged, grabbing the stapler off the desk. "Throw this."

"What?"

"Throw it! Get mad, Linds and throw it."

She hesitated for just a second then threw the stapler against the floor.

"Do it again."

Lindsay got up and took the cup of pens and pencils off the desk, jerking it so all the writing utensils flew out and scattered on the floor, before throwing the cup against the solid wall. A feeling washed over her then and she didn't know if it was good or bad, but she went with it, grabbing everything she could lay her hands on and throwing them all over the room. Anything that was hers and not expensive was at the mercy of her angry hands and she spent several minutes using every swear word she could think of, real and made up, throwing and breaking things and then picking them up and throwing them again. She screamed and cried and stomped her feet while Jo coached her to trash the place. It felt good and she hated that it felt good but she couldn't stop it until her desk chair crashed to the floor and she had nothing left to destroy. She just stood there for a moment, surveying the damage before the tears of relief came. Her legs turned to jelly and she slowly made her way to the carpet, crumpling into a tiny ball while Jo gently rocked her back and forth.

Slowly she realized that she had never been that mad before. Everything that had happened just hurt, it didn't anger her. She'd always been more likely to accept something than to fight it. And she knew it had nothing to do with how strong she was, and everything to do with how hurt she'd been. Accepting left you with less bruises. Accepting was self-preservation.

But it couldn't go on forever, no matter how safe it felt. She had to blow up, she had to let go. Because if she didn't it was going to eat her up inside.

She began to regain her composure, little by little until her breathing was normal and the tears stopped flowing. It felt good to lose it like that, but it couldn't become a habit. She eventually had to get off the floor and stand on her own two feet and put it all back together. She took a breath and smiled as Jo gave her a reassuring squeeze. They didn't say anything as they stood from the floor, both wiping away tear tracks and moving to clean up the mess. There was a lot to pick up but it was faster with both of them working on it. And besides the bent stapler and broken coffee mug, no one would ever know what had happened.

Lindsay reached over and touched the picture on her desk, then looked over at Jo.

"Thank you," she whispered, unable to think of anything else. Jo shook her head and pulled her into a hug.

"Anytime."

Lindsay nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Can I give you one more tiny piece of advice?"

"Yes."

"You need to talk to Austin. And you need to do it soon."

"I'm trying to give her space."

"When does space become avoidance?"

"I know. You're right."

"It doesn't have to be now, but you can't put it off forever."

"I know."

"Whatever else is going on with you, you need her. She's your best friend. No one else can help you the way she can, whether she completely understands or not."

"I'll talk. I promise."

"Good. If you need a stand in until then, you find me, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you."

The bullpen of the lower Manhattan precinct was teeming with people as Austin tried desperately to focus on the case file in front of her. Flack sat across from her trying to map out their suspect's alibi with their time line. She growled in frustration as she tossed her pen at the folder and her phone rang. With a sigh, she answered it.

"Messer."

"Hey Sister Sledge!"

The exuberant voice belonged to her big brother.

Austin pinched her nose and sighed. "What's up, Andy?"

"What's with the lack of enthusiasm Rin-Tin-Tin?" Andrew asked and she could almost see him bouncing at his seat, "I thought you'd be all excited to hear from your big brother."

"Andrew," her voice was harsher than she intended. "I'm in the middle of a big case, I got two little girls who never want to sleep, it's been a bad week, and I need to get back to work. Not that I don't love you to death but is there a point to all this?"

"Sorry," he softened some, and her gut hurt from the disappointment she could feel. "I just wanted to tell you that we're coming back to New York for Michael and Michelle's birthdays. There's gonna be a party at Mom and Pop's. You'll come right?"

"Drew," her voice was soft and she felt like throwing up as she remembered the last ill fated crossing with her father. "I don't know. Can't you guys just make a stop by our place?"

"Austin," he pleaded, and she could already feel herself giving in. "The only way to get over these fears of yours is to face them."

"Fine! Whatever," she snapped. "I gotta go."

She slammed the phone down in the cradle as she grabbed the glass paper weight on her desk and hurled it at the cement floor.

Flack's head shot up as the paper weight shattered into a million little pieces and scattered across the floor. He looked at his partner who had went from composed to a complete wreck in under a minute. She was glancing around for something else that would break and he made the executive decision to get her away from every one else. With both arms wrapped around her Flack practically carried her into an empty interrogation room as she started screaming every swear she could remember.

"Shit. Fuck! GOD DAMMIT!"

"Grace," he reached out to calm her down but she twisted away and slugged the cinder block wall.

"Why does this always fucking happen to me?" she screamed as she pounded her fist against the wall until her knuckles were bloody and bruised. "What the hell did I do to the fucking universe? Can I go a week without a knife getting stabbed in my back?"

"Austin," his voice was soft but strong as she continued cursing everyone she could think of and her foot collided with the folding chair at the table. "What's going on?"

"I suck, Don." She ran a bloody hand through her hair. "Did no one pass the memo onto you? I screw everything up and apparently have an invisible kick me sign on my back!"

"Talk it out," he urged her. He was taken back to nights like this thirteen years ago; nights when Austin would scream and cry at the injustices of her life just to be able to fall asleep. Something had sent her spinning and she was thrown back to the same scared, angry teenage girl that was just trying to survive. "Talk it out, Grace. Tell me."

She slid down against the wall and pulled her knees to her chest. "Lindsay and I had a fight... she said some things that... she might as well have called me Jack. She told me to go ahead and walk on out because it's what I do. I'm so mad at her even though I get that she's going through something. I am so fucking pissed off even though I know the truth. Then... then Andrew calls and tells me that they're coming into the city next week and I have to go see them. I have to go face that jackass I call a father and I have to talk to my brother. I'm so sick of it, Flack. I'm sick of understanding why people are the way they are! I'm sick of being the universe's punching bag. Why can't I ever catch a break?"

"I don't know," he sat down beside her and pulled her into his lap. They had dated once upon a time but it was one of those things that led them to the astute observation that they were better as friends. When Danny had left for the minors all those years ago he had made it his vow that he would protect Austin when Danny couldn't and he wasn't about to stop doing that now. She was so small in his arms and he wanted to protect her from every bad thing she had ever felt. She was so strong that people often forgot that she needed someone to stand for her sometimes. Somewhere along the line she had convinced everyone that she didn't need an ounce of help and Flack was gonna call her bluff. He wasn't giving her a choice, he was going to take care of her this time.

He held her until Mac entered the interrogation room. Someone had called and told him that Austin was freaking out and Flack could use some back up. The elder man knelt in front of them and held his arms out to Austin who leaned forward immediately and let her lift him from the cold cement. He sat her on the table long enough to wrap some gauze around her scraped up knuckles and then he lifted her again. He carried her out to the police issue SUV as her head burrowed in the crook of his neck as they passed her coworkers. No one said a single word as they watched her being carried out.

Mac placed her in the passenger seat and buckled her in like she was a child then he removed his coat and wrapped it around her. Neither said a word as he navigated the streets until they reached her apartments. He half-carried her up the stairs to the apartment and she leaned heavily against him as they waited for Danny to answer the door. He took one look at her before giving Mac a silent thank you and lifting her off her feet to carry her to bed.

Exhaustion was overtaking her body as Danny lay her down on their bed. He removed her jacket and shoes before tucking her under the blankets and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She was burnt out and too tired to take care of herself at that particular moment and he knew it. So, he laid on top of the covers beside her and wrapped her tightly in a hug.

"I've got you."

"You need to fix this."

Lindsay looked up from the microscope to find Flack, his face determined and his eyes narrowed.

"Um… fix what?"

"Whatever's goin' on between you and Austin. She told me what you said and you had better get on your knees and beg her to forgive you."

"Flack-"

"Do you realize what you did to her? Do you know how much that hurt her?"

"Yes! I do know that. I do realize that, okay? I know what I did and I'm sorry but she's not exactly keen on hearing that or even looking at me at the moment so I'm giving her a little space."

"Space? You explain to me why I've got a partner over there that was crying yesterday. If all she needs is space, you tell me why she's this upset."

"Because of what I said! Because we fought and because I yelled. It's none of your business anyway."

"Yes it is, and I'm not backing off until you go up there and make things right."

"It doesn't work like that, Flack," she said sadly, feeling some of the fight go out of her to be replaced with acceptance. "I really wish it did, but I can't change it."

"Don Flack I told you not to come up here," Austin said, coming around the corner with her hands on her hips. She took one look at the two of them and knew what had just happened.

"I'm just trying to get this straightened out."

"Look, it's my fault, okay?" Lindsay interrupted, throwing her hands in the air and standing up. "I was mean and stubborn and horrible and I said terrible things that aren't true and I'm wrong, okay? Is that straight enough for you Flack?"

He stood there for a second just staring at her, his jaw slightly dropped. He'd never heard her raise or voice or be mad or even this emphatic about her feelings.

"Linds," Austin started, her voice soft as she took a step into the room.

"Don't. I have work to do right now and I need to get back to that."

They were both silent for a moment, then left slowly, their feet quiet in the hallway while Lindsay collapsed back into her chair with a sigh. Nothing was going right anymore.

She was allowed to cry only once a day. Some people might think that was too much, some people might think it was too little, but it was enough for her and it worked. She hid out and let tears fall during her long showers because red eyes wouldn't be as noticeable or suspicious afterwards. She didn't want to burden Adam with it anymore and Colton didn't need to keep seeing a sad mama. And it wasn't like she was holding it in either, she was letting it go. She was just controlling the release.

Part of it was hurt and loss, but she had hashed that over so many times it was easy to suck that up and deal with it. Other parts, the parts that still made her cry were more about loneliness and anger than anything. Sure, the great majority of her sadness over the fight was what she had said to Austin and how she had hurt her friend. But the part that hurt now, the part no one seemed to know or care about was the words that had been hurled back at her. Cold. Closed off. Incapable of love. Hiding behind her past. She'd basically been called a coward and a liar and a prickly cactus of a person. It wasn't like she'd never been called those things before. She'd spent almost her entire early adult life swimming in such accusations. She'd always been able to ignore them because she knew they weren't true. But hearing it from her best friend really cut to the quick. Even the coward part was partially true, at least cowardice with her emotions. And she really hadn't been truthful about what was going on. But being incapable of love? That one hurt. That one felt like a kick to the gut every time she thought about it. She didn't think it was right, but maybe it was. Maybe that's why no one listened and no one cared. She wasn't doing that herself. It wasn't like she didn't try. She did everything she could to be the best friend possible, sometimes at detriment to herself. She didn't do it to feel good or to gain recognition, she just did it because everyone needs someone and she didn't want anyone to ever be alone. And to hear from someone who had been on the receiving end of such kindness that she wasn't good enough made her want to just give up on it all. She could focus on her family. She didn't need anyone else.

And maybe that made her even more closed off, but it made her hurt less. Adam and Colton were all she needed, and as long as she could pick herself up and make things right for them, she didn't need to worry about much else. Even the nagging at the back of her head that Austin was right would eventually shut up. She could ignore that. She could prove it wrong if she wanted to. She could use different techniques to make it stop hurting. It would all be fine.

Fine until she stepped into that shower and almost automatically the tears came and she sunk down to the floor burying her face in her hands. Everything rattled around in her head and there was nothing left but the words, the accusations, the yelling, the door slamming. If only she would have been gentler in her words, if only she would have just come clean, there never would have been a fight.

But she hadn't and she couldn't spend forever playing If Only. The fact of the matter was that she was hurt and mad and had just lost her best friend. There was a part of her that was glad, a part that said she didn't need someone who thought of her that way. But the other part, the calmer, more rational part told her that she needed someone that honest, who wasn't afraid to call her out.

But she was still angry. Angry that no one saw her side, that no one saw her. Had it not been for that parting line, this would all be over. They would have fought, Austin would have left and ten minutes later she would have been back and Lindsay would have spilled it all and everything would have been fine. Instead her mouth had gotten the better of her and she'd whipped out the nuclear bomb of insults.

It was so hard for her to remain angry when she thought of that. All that she could feel now was shame and disappointment in herself. She'd hurt Austin so badly and she wanted to fix it, but she wasn't sure she could.

But even if she could, she would still have her own problems, her own hurts, her own depression to try and overcome. She'd done it before, and she could do it again. She just hated so much that no one seemed to see how bad off she was. Of course Adam saw it, it was his job and she was not good at hiding things from him anymore. But she felt like no one heard her side of things. Austin was hurt so she told what Lindsay had said to her, and Lindsay often spoke of the same thing, so no one knew the things Austin had said. She supposed it was fair, the words that had come out of her mouth were so much worse, and everyone had been a part of Austin's life for a lot longer than they had been a part of hers. It only held that they would stop just short of taking sides. She couldn't blame them for that. She didn't even really care that Flack had told her in very specific words that she needed to go beg for forgiveness and fix all this. She didn't care, and yet it still hurt. She had no one in her corner, no one who would understand and accept that she was mad. Once again, she was back in the shadows, alone, where she belonged.