A/N: Alright everyone, final chapter. I've kinda written myself out here, sorry if it's been disappointing, I guess the story just ran away from me. All that's left is tying up the loose end that lead to season three. I wanted to get this chapter done and posted for fear of this story being deleted, which apparently FF might do to the more…Adult stories. Which means this and Past Sins may be going bye-bye. Along with a few other stories of mine. Shame really, not just as a writer but as a reader. I still don't understand why FF can't just open a MA category, cause I'm sure their losing members to other more flexible sites.

Anyway, enjoy if possible.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Joe sat in the shower, the water teaming down on him, washing away the blood and brain. The last twelve hours a blur.

After realizing that Cazenove might have been working for the Kray, he'd dragged Emerson back to the Great Maurice to investigate the Lasts for proof. He'd taken Kent with him out of habit and because he'd wanted another chance to talk, hoping to salvage something of their relationship, but all they'd done was drive in silence, get drinks in silence and find the Lasts in silence. The only time Emerson had said a word to him had been to tell him that they weren't welcome at the pub, which he hadn't really needed to be told.

It hadn't taken him five seconds after that to find the Last with Cazenove's name on it, along with Steven Dukes and others connected to the case. Then everything had rushed forward. They had everything they needed to bring down the Kray's, except for the DNA evidence, but Joe was confident that would come back proving Jimmy and Johnny weren't Kray. While they waiting he decided to confront DCI Cazenove.

In hindsight it probably wasn't the best decision. Joe didn't know what he'd expected really, certainly not to be stood in the gents of a high class hotel, listening to the man trying to defend the indefensible. As Cazenove walked around him, telling him that it was the smarter option to let the Kray's run wild in the streets of East London; he felt anger bubble inside him. Because of this man, Kent and McCormack had been hurt. McCormack was dead. The reputation of the force was in question and he'd lost the only person he'd ever actually care loved. Joe had stood in that toilet with Cazenove laughing at him, scorning his moral integrity, throwing the ripper case back in his face. He'd stood there, his heart pounding as the DCI held a gun to him.

He didn't know how many times he'd face death since being assigned to Whitechapel, it felt like a thousand, but every time he faced it with only on thought on his mind. This time was no different. As his eyes closed, waiting for the man to pull the trigger, he thought about Kent and regretted ruining the best thing he'd ever had in his life. When the shot came, Joe flinched. It took him a few moments to realize that the warm blood covering his face wasn't his own. When he opened his eyes and saw Cazenove lying in a pool of blood on the toilet floor he'd felt his stomach drop. Swallowing hard against the bile that rose in his throat at the sight, he'd staggered away from the scene, informing the manager that there was a dead body in the gents and asking to borrow a room.

That was where Miles found him, sat on the floor, water washing away evidence of Cazenove's suicide. "We got the DNA results back. Ronnie's not the dad." Miles announced, turning off the shower.

Joe expected to feel relieved and vindicated, but all he felt was tired. He hung his head as the stress of the past month and a half crashed down on him. Everything he'd lost and almost lost flooding his mind like a tsunami, the shock taking hold.

"You think you're in control, but you're not." he stared at the swirls of blood tainted water. "No one is. It's nothing but chaos and lies."

"I told you that this investigation would take you to some dark places…" Miles reminded him. "That doesn't mean you have to stay there."

Joe dropped his head into his hand. He hadn't said it would utterly shatter everything around him. Miles hadn't said that it would destroy his relationship. If Miles had told him that bringing the Kray's to justice and saving the East End from murderous tyrants, would coat him Kent, he would have let things be. – At least that's what part of him wanted to believe, but another part of him knew that wasn't true. He couldn't have allowed the murders and intimidation to continue, sadly Kent and their relationship was the price he had to pay for doing the right thing. He just wasn't sure he would be able to live with that decision.

"When Cazenove shot himself, he was standing so close to me I got his brains on my face." Joe climbed off the floor, his body shaking, his mind a whirl. He dropped down on a small seat, wiping at the blood that clung to his jaw. "I'm not strong enough to bring this case in. - I'm not Nipper Reed."

"No you're blood not. - And you weren't Abilene either. You are Joseph Chandler and you better get used to it."

Joe looked up to see Miles crouched on the other side of the shower door.

"Nobody said you had to be the greatest detective that ever lived…." Miles said, pushing it open. "…only the best detective you can be. So sometimes you'll fail, that's okay. But it's not okay to give up." Miles got to his feet and held out his hand. "Get up sir."

Joe stared at the hand, then up to Miles. He appreciated what the man was trying to do, but he could never understand. "Go away Miles."

~WHITECHAPEL~

Confronting Dukes gave Emerson back that feeling of control he lost after his attack, that confidence the Kray's had ripped away from him so violently. He'd grin smugly as they sat in Steven Dukes' office and hold him all about the Kray's not being Kray, he just couldn't help himself. And he'd felt a buzz of joy as he'd lent forward, meeting the man's eyes and told him. "You've been had."

He'd gotten the same feeling when he'd walked into the organized crime division two hours later. It was heightened when Mansell handed him a set of cuffs.

"You do the honors?"

"Why me?" Kent had frowned.

"Cause you've been through more than all of us."

Emerson knew Mansell couldn't possibly know just what he'd gone through during this investigation, but he appreciated the gestured, especially as they hadn't really had much time to get to know each other.

But those feelings were eclipsed by what he'd felt watching Jimmy and Johnny Brooks being arrested. The only shadow had been Joe and the tied look on his face, the dark shadows under his eyes. Despite everything Emerson still loved the man, still wanted to be with him but that was impossible now.

~WHITECHAPEL~

Joe was sat alone in his office, going over the paper work for the Kray case. He still couldn't believe that Johnny and Jimmy had been killed, in custody of all places. The investigation was going to last months, but that at least wasn't his problem. For him it was over. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, wondering if he'd made the right decision. When he'd met with the Commander that morning, he'd been offered an out, a chance to get away from Whitechapel. He hadn't even hesitated to turn it down. Despite what had happened and his current situation with Emerson, leaving wasn't an option. As he'd told Miles, he may stumble but he wouldn't give up. Part of him was hoping that eventually he'd get another chance with Emerson, when things were back to normal, when life had settled down once more, when he'd forgiven him.

Joe sat up straight in his chair and smiled as said junior officer stood in the doorway of his office.

"Sir, do you have a moment."

They were alone, so the fact that he was being all formal highlighted to Joe just how bad things had gotten between them. He swallowed against the pain. "Y-yes."

Emerson walked into the office, on purposely leaving the door wide open. "I - I've been thinking about my future sir…." he trailed off and held out an envelope.

Joe looked at it, his heart clenching tight. "What's that?"

"I want a transfer."

"What?" Joe's eyes widened in panic. "Why?"

Emerson like at him like he'd grown two head. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Jesus Em, there's no need to leave."

"I think there is Sir."

Joe flinched a little. "Listen, things are going to be changing around here. The Commanders making us into a special unit, we'll be dealing with more unusual cases, copycat and such. I need all the men I can trust."

"Except you don't trust me, that's the problem."

Joe groaned. "I made a mistake Em, I'm only human, that doesn't mean I don't trust you…."

"That's exactly what it means."

Joe shot to his feet and rushed around his desk, pushing the door closed. "I screwed up." he said, turning to stare at Emerson. "I got scared and I wasn't thinking properly."

The younger man looked up at him with sad dark eyes. "Scared?"

"You know this is all new to me, Em. I've never had a proper relationship before you. I guess….I got scare of where it was going, of what it meant. When you said you loved me, it all became real, very real, then you got hurt and I had to face the real prospect of losing you. - I can't explain why I did it, Em. You know my head make no sense, even to me. But I swear to you, I meant it when I said I love you, and I still do. I don't want you to leave; I don't want us to be over."

Emerson sighed warily, his head hanging low. "I know you don't Joe. And part of me doesn't either. I still love you too….but I can't just pretend nothing happened. You hurt me; I can't just get over it."

Joe sat on the edge of his desk. "That doesn't mean you have to leave."

"Can you really see us continuing to work together, after all of this?" Emerson replied softly.

"We've been working together the past few days, without any problems."

Emerson stood looking at the grey carpet tiles. "A few days isn't really enough time to make a judgment, Joe."

"Agreed, so just give it a few weeks, if you're still determined to leave, then…" he exhaled slowly. "…I'll give you your transfer."

"I don't know Joe. Maybe it's just easier to do it now."

"Please, Em."

Emerson watched him intently, was the pleading in those tired blue eyes. "Your hoping I'll change my mind, aren't you? - about us I mean."

Joe shrugged. "Hope is the last refuge of a desperate man."

Emerson smiled softly. "Alright, I'll give it a few weeks. - But if I decided to leave, you agree, no questions or pleas."

Joe got to his feet, towering over the younger man. "Agreed."

They stood looking at each other for a long while, both resisting the urge to touch, to kiss, to be together. Finally Emerson stepped back and headed for the door, his heart thundering against his rips, while his stomach rolled.

"Kent."

He paused on the threshold, closing his eyes at the sound of his name, which no longer rang with the same lighthearted joyous tone. "Yes."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Emerson nodded. "Night, Sir."

Joe watched the door close, his chest filled with pain, but in the center of the pain was a small spark of hope. Someday he may get a second chance.

THE END

A/N: Sorry if this feels a little rushed, but you know I'm no good at endings, especially ones where I can't fix all the problems. Hopefully I'll get around to doing season three, though I have a bit of a problem as I don't have episodes 3 & 4 on tape, and can't really remember what happened in them. I may have to invest in the DVD, finances permitting. And I'm still waiting to hear if there's a season four, so I know if story three is going to have a happy ending or be another angst drive madhouse like this one was.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story, apologize again for the last few chapters. All that angst isn't good for anyone.

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR TAKING THE TIME TO READ AND REVIEW.

I hope to hear from you again. Fingers crossed.

See you soon

GATERGIRL

xxx