SO SO SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT! I tried really hard to get this done, and I have to thank my sister, Kayleigh, for helping me out with this chapter.

This is the last chapter of the fic, though there will be an extra chapter added (explained in more detail in the authors note at the end)

This involves an overload of flashbacks, so I apologise. I should also warn that there are mentions of self-harm in this chapter. If you wish to skip that part, stop reading at the paragraph that starts with the words 'Taking advantage of...' and start reading again at the line '"What are doing?"' (Wow, that makes it sound strange). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

-WC-

Chandler was in his office, staring at his pot of tiger balm, willing the emptiness in the pit of his stomach to go away. They had failed again. He had failed again. Every single one of them were dead, and he couldn't help but blame himself.

Without a second thought, Chandler stood up from his desk and strided into the incident room, his legs taking him to a familiar desk.

"Sir?"

The DC looked up at him with those deep, brown eyes that would put a puppy to shame. Kent had also been affected by the evening's events, the blond man could tell. It was written all over his face like an open book.

"Are you still up for that drink?" The DI asked before he could change his mind. If he thought about it too much, the more he would think it was a bad idea, and the doubt would stop him. He needed it. He needed to drink until he forgets, he needed to numb the pain, he needed to leave his demons behind for one night.

Kent seemed confused, like he didn't expect Chandler to ask such a thing. The older man thought about taking away the offer and going back to his office, but a shy - yet happy - voice spoke up. "Okay."

-WC-

God I need some coffee, Mansell thought, flicking through a file with his cheek leaning on his palm. He was officially bored. No new evidence and no new leads makes Finally a dull boy.

As if a curly-haired, Bambi-like God had answered his prayers, a hot container of Starbucks coffee appeared in front of him. The disgruntled voice of said God muttered "Tell your girlfriend to get better furniture."

"I'd ask why, but experience lends me the answer. What were you doing at Erica's last night? What's wrong?"

Kent slammed his bag on his desk before rifling through it. "Well, our boss is a dick who can't leave things in the past and my back fucking hurts off that fucking sofa - which I'm pretty sure is older than Skip!" He sighed, and collapsed in his chair.

"Oi!" came a voice raised in mock anger from across the room. "I'm still alive and kicking, you know. But, in all seriousness, where is his nibs?"

Kent pulled something out of his bag while shrugging. "I thought he was already here. He wasn't at the flat when I went to get my charger." He replied, plugging in the aforementioned object.

"Well, someone has to know where he is." The room went quiet as nobody has an answer. Miles turned back to the young DC. "Here, pass your phone over."

"Why does it have to be mine?" He complained, although he still did as he was told.

"Knowing him, he'll answer quicker if it's you." Skip started to type in Chandler's number and pressed the phone to his ear.

"I doubt that." The brunet mumbled to himself. The incident room remained silent, waiting for Chandler to pick up... But he doesn't.

Skip pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it in confusion. He stormed to his own desk and picked up his phone. He redialled Chandler's number and waited for him to answer, but the call disconnected with a couple of rings, a clear sign he had been hung up on. Miles turned to the rest of the team and told them what had happened. Riley looked toward Kent. "Do you know how long he stayed here last night?"

"I'm not sure, I went to Erica's before I had a chance to see him." He replied, wearily.

Riley suddenly had an idea. "We could check the CCTV from the station."

Miles contemplated the idea for a moment before agreeing. Mansell headed out to check the CCTV whilst Miles and Riley looked over the case notes, all their faces tinged with worry. Kent loitered around his desk, thinking about Chandler's whereabouts. Joe's not answering his phone? It is kind of a...

-WC-

... Strange scenario, and Kent didn't know what to do. He was sitting in a pub with his boss, an uncomfortable silence screaming in his ears as he tried not to fidget.

However, despite the fact that it was strange and uncomfortable, the young man couldn't be happier. Any time spent alone with the blond counted as a win to Kent.

"Thank you for this, Emerson." The DC almost jumped at the sound of Chandler's voice spontaneously cutting through the lull of the evening. Kent looked down at his hands, trying to conceal the blush on his cheeks.

"It's not a problem, Sir."

"Please, it's Joe." The DI corrected, copying Kent's actions before nursing his drink.

-WC-

Timmy's patience could only last so long. The two men were sitting in the car, which was parked in the middle of an abandoned street, the gun still trained on Chandler. It wasn't long into the awkward silence when the murderer gave up. "What? No remark, no shock, no surprise? I expected more from you, can't say I'm not disappointed."

The silence continued for a short while, until the shrieking of Chandler's phone cut through it. The DI glanced at his pocket before Timmy move to retrieve the phone. Looking at the screen, the man chuckled. "Emerson? Calling you already? That's a bit desperate."

Chandler's flinch was noticeable, adding to Timmy's joy. As the noise ceased, Joseph finally looked Timmy in the eye. "What are you trying to accomplish by targetting the team? You said you go after families, so why us?"

"Are you really that naive, Joseph? Can you really not see it?"

"See what?" He snapped, growing tired of Timmy's games. At that point, the phone began to ring again. The Scouse man groaned and hung up, throwing the phone onto the back seat.

"That! Looking after each other, being so close and friendly - You and Kent for crying out loud! You're the exact equivalent of a family."

Chandler looked away in confusion. Is Kent close enough to be my family? Sure, we're close now, we're... courting, but we're not that close... Right? It took a lot of effort to get to where we are now. I can still remember a time when I could barely talk to him. How did that lead to a time when...

-WC-

... The two detectives were walking through the empty streets of Whitechapel, the only sounds being their footfalls and the drunken exchanges between them. Their current topic of conversation: Finlay Mansell.

"Come on, Sir, admit it!"

"I can't I'm his boss!"

Kent rolled his eyes. "But even you have to admit he's a bit of a dick. I won't tell anyone if you say it."

"Kent, I-" The younger man had stopped walking and was staring at Chandler in anticipation of his answer. The blond sighed. "Okay, he is a bit of a... Well, for want of a better word, dick... I can't believe I've just said that."

A huge smile broke out on Kent's face before he continued walking. "Finally, someone said it!" Chandler smiled slightly at the DC's joyous outburst, but the smile quickly faded as he continued. "Since we're being honest, what do you think of me?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

The DI could almost laugh at the genuine confusion on Kent's face. "Because it's personal to me."

"Hmm..." The younger man went silent for a while before finally uttering "Could you at least tell me whether it's a good or bad opinion?"

Chandler looked down at the brunet sadly. "It depends on where you're standing..." He shifted uncomfortably under Emerson's wondering gaze. It was then that the older man had an idea. "Why don't you come to mine? I have a bottle of whiskey that needs opening."

"You want to get me more drunk than I already am?" He laughs silently. "Sure, why not?"

-WC-

Kent flicked through the CCTV images in his hands, depicting Chandler's earlier movements, trying to make sense of the unfolding scene. He sighs, dropping his hands to his sides before pushing open the door to the interrogation room.

"DC Kent." Jonathan greeted. He was sat in a corner reading a book whilst Charlie and Natasha sat on the floor building a tower with Lego.

"Morning." replied Kent. "I came to check up on you." he said, placing the CCTV stills on the table.

"We're fine, right guys?"

"Yeah," Charlie agreed, getting up and heading towards the remaining toys on the table. Natasha simply nodded.

"Natasha's still down and a bit distant, for obvious reasons, but her and Charlie seem to be getting on fine." Jonathan elaborates.

"Good to hear. Anyway, a PC will be around to bring you some food soon. If you need anything or want t speak with one of us, just ask them and they'll-"

"It's the Toy Man!" Charlie interrupts.

"What?" Kent said, rushing over to where Charlie was standing. The boy points to Timmy of the CCTV stills. "Charlie, are you sure?"

Jonathan walked over, Natasha following him, and picked up one of the images. "Yeah, that's him. That's Jack. Different hair, but that's him."

Natasha impatiently climbed up onto a chair and looked over Jonathan's shoulder. When she saw the picture, she yelled "Sam!"

Jonathan turned to Kent. "Who's Sam?"

"The Toy Man." Kent replied, grabbing the images from the table. "You three, follow me."

They rushed to the incident room, Jonathan carrying Natasha and Charlie running alongside them. Upon their arrival, Meg turned and raised and eyebrow. "I thought they weren't supposed to leave the interrogation room?"

Kent ignored her questioning to ask with a panicked voice. "Do we have any pictures of Timmy? Proper ones?"

"Here." Mansell shouted, sitting at his computer. "I'll check his files."

The team gathered around Mansell's desk, confused by Kent's inquiry. After a few moments, a photograph of Timmy filled the screen. Kent brought the teenager over to the screen. "Is this him?"

Jonathan looked panicked, perplexed as to what was happening, but as his eye caught the picture on the screen, he froze. He turned his head away from the image and towards Kent. "Yeah... Yeah, that's him."

The room went silent as the pieces fell together. "Does this mean..." Mansell began, unable to finish his sentence.

"Timmy's the killer." Miles finished for him. "I knew something was off about him."

Riley called for one of the other detectives to take the children back to the interrogation room.

"I think we can all agree that finding the boss has now become our top priority." Miles addressed the room.

"How are we supposed to do that?" Mansell inquired. "Timmy's phone is switched off, the boss isn't answering and there's only so far CCTV can go."

Riley joked. "If only people came with tracking chips. It'll make motherhood easier."

At that comment, Kent perked up. "Tracking chip?" he muttered to himself. This attracted everyone's attention.

"What do you mean, lad?" Miles asked, confused.

"Joe mentioned once that Anderson put a tracking chip on his phone." Everyone in the room looked at Kent, confused. "I'm not sure why, he never said, probably protection." He spoke quickly, touching his phone offhandedly.

"Well, is it still active?"

"Like I said, I don't know. If anyone would know, it's Anderson."

"So, if his phone is still on him, we may be able to find him... Well, it looks like we're gonna have to pay an old friend a visit. Let's go."

While gathering his things, Kent started thinking about Chandler again. The team all believed Timmy was going to hurt Chandler. They had to be wrong. He hoped they were...

-WC-

... Lying in bed, resting after their previous activities. They'd both lost count of how many times it had happened. They were both oblivious to the amount of Kent's possessions that now had a permanent place in Chandler's flat.

Taking advantage of his partner's semi-conscious form, Chandler took him time running his fingers across the scars adorning Kent's thighs and back, as well as the matching ones on his upper arms. Doing this sent a feeling of protection surging through the DI's body, as though it was his duty to keep his subordinate from harm.

"What are you doing?" An exhausted voice asked him.

Chandler rolled onto his side and draped an arm over Kent's waist, pulling him closer until his back was flush against his chest. "Nothing of importance."

They both enjoyed those peaceful moments, when they could forget about their job, about the implications of his actions, about the world around them. The line between colleagues and - Well... more - was thinning every day, but they didn't care. All they cared about was those peaceful moments.

-WC-

"DS Miles. Anything I may help you with?"

Kent, Miles and Mansell were currently standing in Anderson's office, who seemed annoyed at the detectives' presence. "Yes, actually. I've heard you have a tracker on our DI."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "It's true. How did you know?" Anderson glanced at Kent, making his guess known.

"Not important - Is it still active? Would you be able to track him down?" Miles asked, hurriedly.

"I believe so." Anderson assures, moving to retrieve his phone from his desk. "Though I haven't used it in a while." As Anderson searched on his phone, Kent's own mobile vibrated in his pocket. He glanced at is, but ignored it, confusing the other detectives. There was a pause to the Commander's actions as he waited for his phone to send him the information he needed. In this pause, he took the opportunity to look towards the doe-eyed DC, who was standing quietly by the door while wringing his hands, a sure sign of his nervousness. "I thought you were supposed to be looking after him now. I thought I could trust you to not mess this up." He spoke calmly.

Kent's breath caught in his throat, startled by being addressed. "Sorry," is all he could say, his voice barely above a whisper. However, a beep from Anderson' phone prevented anyone from mentioning it.

"Ah, there we are." The man remarked. "Do you know where this is?" He asked, passing the phone to the detectives.

After a moment's studying, Mansell exclaimed "I know it! It's an old street, usually abandoned, not too far away from the station."

"Hiding in plain sight." Miles growled. "Thank you, Commander."

"Not a problem." Anderson replied, taking his phone back. The team began to leave, but the Commander called "Emerson." The curly haired man stopped in his tracks, turning back. "Find him. Make sure he's safe."

Kent met Anderson's eyes. "I will. I owe you that much." He turned, hurrying to catch up with the others. Of course I will. This relationship has been the best year of my life. Well, then again, it's only been...

-WC-

"... 6 months. No, that's not right. We've only been dating for around 1 month. But, it technically started-"

"You're over-thinking it." Kent chuckled. After everyone had left for lunch, Chandler had pulled the younger man into his office. Kent was currently sat on the edge of the desk while Chandler paced.

"No, I'm not. We need to think this through. Get all the facts in place." The DI leant on the desk next to his partner, who was still amused.

"Why?"

Joseph sighed lightly. "Miles said I seemed happy the other day. Curiously. And if he's curious, he'll eventually ask why."

Kent rested his head on Chandler's shoulder, his smile still in place. "And if he does, you'll just tell him the truth. It's not like we need to censor anything."

"Except the start."

"Well, he doesn't need to know that part."

The blond laughed lightly, turning to kiss his lover's forehead. "I guess you're right." This caused the younger man to lift his head from its resting position so he can be face to face with the DI.

"Of course I am." He whispered, leaning in to close the distance between them. The warmth of the DC's mouth was inviting, allowing Chandler to deepen the kiss and forget about his surroundings.

That was until a voice called out "I guess I owe you twenty quid, Skip."

The couple pulled away and looked towards the incident room to see Miles smirking, Riley waving, and Mansell looking half-amused and half-pissed off.

Kent mimicked Miles' expression, pushing himself off Chandler's desk and patting him on the shoulder comfortingly. "There you go, problem solved."

-WC-

Chandler heard his phone vibrate from the back seat. He briefly glanced at it, having no intention to try and retrieve it, before return his gaze back to Timmy. "So, you were behind it all?"

Timmy giggled. "You finally caught on! Wow, I'm impressed."

"Stop being sarcastic. Why did you do it?" the blond snapped, annoyance seeping through his words.

"Like I said before, I don't like families. And yours really angered me. You argue on almost a weekly basis, yet you still stick around and work through it." The man sighed heavily in an overzealous fashion that reminded Chandler too much of Buchan.

"We have to, we're a team, there's not much we can do..." Chandler trailed off as Timmy leaned over to him with a smile on his face.

"You're naive, Joe." He leans back in his seat. "Anyway, it wasn't hard to break up your little group. A small visit to Natasha made you and Kent have a tiff, the mere mention of kids led to Mansell and Riley falling apart, a small nudge made Kent doubt your relationship, and our conversation..."

"Mornin', Ed. Sir, could I have a word?"

Chandler looked up from the files Buchan gave him to pay full attention to the new DC. "Of course, what about?"

"Well, I..." Timmy trailed off as he noticed the folders he had tucked under his arm. "Oh, I almost forgot, I wanted to return these files." He stated, holding them up. "I've been doing my homework." He added with a smile.

"What on?" The DI asked in confusion.

"Some of the team's big cases. I thought that there may be something I could use as a reference in this case, a method we haven't tried." He started looking through the files in his hands. "I've recently been looking at Blythe Huddart, Sasha Lowood, Ronald Clemence-Solebay, Elsa Durham, Luke Watney, Cindy Watney and, erm... Morgan Lamb?" Chandler felt a lump in his throat. "I don't think I read that one. Was she important?"

Breathing became difficult and the lump in his throat tightened. He got up from his desk and walked over to Timmy, taking the files from his hands. "I don't know." He uttered, voice just above a whisper. Placing the files on his desk gently, he turned back to Timmy. "What did you want to discuss?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter. Sorry, Sir."

Timmy left the office, leaving Chandler alone. The blond man turned to look out at the incident room and - more specifically - at Kent. As he did, the DC glanced up, catching his eye and giving his partner a small smile before returning to his work.

"You made Emerson leave." Chandler's voice sounded broken.

"Oh no, DI Chandler. I merely made you angry. You're the one who made him leave." Timmy stated bluntly.

The blond looked away. "Why those families? Natasha, Jonathan, Charlie, the others in Wales, why them?"

"Why does anyone do anything? I did it because I could. They were there, they were convenient. That's all I needed. Same with the ones in Wales. But they were piling up pretty quickly, so I needed a change of location."

"What made you choose Whitechapel?"

"Ah, the famous Whitechapel. You hear stories, but you have to see it for yourself. But now I have a question for you." Timmy raised the gun he had been neglecting throughout their conversation, pointing it at Chandler again. "What's with all the questions? You were hesitant t speak not so long ago."

The blond haired man looked the murderer in the eye and the corner of his mouth twists up into a small smile. "Sometimes talking is good. It can be really helpful."

"Helpful, how?" Timmy asked suspiciously.

"It kills time." The DI moved his gaze to over Timmy's shoulder. The DC faultered before turning around to see a group of police officers at the end of the street looking in their direction whilst talking on radios. He then began to hear the faint shrill of police sirens.

As expected, a few moments later some police cars came rushing down the street and screeching to a halt, the team of detectives hurrying out of them. Timmy hastily turned to Chandler in panic. "Get out of the car," he growled, infuriated. They opened their doors simultaneously, though Timmy jumped out of his seat speedily, running over to the blond's side, keeping the gun trained on him. Chandler did the opposite, stepping out of the car slowly.

Timmy ran to Chandler's left side, grabbing the latter's right arm, pulling him close so his body was half covered by the DI. He held his gun in his left hand, pointing it at the older man. "Stop where you are!" he yells at the approaching officers.

They all stopped in their tracks, guns still trained on Timmy. Out of the corner of his eye, Chandler could see snipers located on the surrounding buildings, but whether Timmy had noticed was an entirely different matter.

Miles cautiously stepped forward, a hand held out in front of himself to show Timmy that he was still keeping his distance. The DCs glanced at each other in confusion, wondering what Miles was trying to do. 'Then again', thought Mansell, 'with Chandler being held hostage, someone has to walk out in front of the armed gunman.'

"Timmy, listen," Miles began. "This has gone on long enough. Why don't you just give up Chandler, and we can talk?"

The armed man sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Oh, DS Miles. If only it was that easy. But that's not how you play."

"Play? What do you mean?"

"Don't you see?" Timmy smiled. "This is all just one big game to me. You're all just pawns for me to play with. And you all fell for it. I practically waltzed in, sat down at a desk and you all just accepted me. Well, maybe not you, Miles, but no one was going to listen to a worn-out old man. Call yourselves detectives when you couldn't even figure out I wasn't meant to be there. You were stood less than a meter from the very murderer you were chasing and you were still clueless. God, I had to kidnap someone to help you figure it out and it still took you this long. You know, she told me you were clever, but you're really not. Even now, you don't seem realise." Timmy giggled manically. "I win!"

Blood spurted from Timmy's left shoulder as a bullet pierced through. He stumbled backwards, causing him to relinquish his grip on the gun. This allowed Chandler to push himself out of Timmy's grip and make a move for the nearby weapon, and he turned it towards the murderer as he fell to the ground, gripping his wounded shoulder.

A group of officers ran towards Timmy, ready to handcuff him, one of the officers radioing for an ambulance. Some other officers pulled Chandler to one side, extracting the gun from his hands and checking his body for injuries. The DI surveyed the scene around him, taking a moment to think about the situation, before his eyes caught those of his curl haired DC. A small smile grew on the latter's lips - a sign to Chandler that their argument has been overlooked under the circumstances - which was quickly reciprocated.

After ensuring the DIs well-being, the officers walked away. As soon as they left the area, Kent rushed over to Chandler, his gaze never leaving the blond haired man in front of him. A moment of silence passed, both men drinking in the sight of each other, before Kent pushed forward forcefully, embracing the taller man. The DI wrapped his arms around his DCs waist as the latter wrapped his around Chandler's neck. "I'm glad you're okay."

Chandler smiled lightly at his junior's words. "So am I. Are you okay? Did you sleep well at Erica's? Have you been taking your medic-"

"God, you've just been kidnapped and you're worrying about me!" Kent smiled happily, tears running down his cheeks. When they pulled away, Chandler wiped them away before smiling himself. He can't remember the last time he was so...

-WC-

... happy. The only word capable of describing how I feel right now, which is strange considering it's Mansell and Erica's anniversary. The 'happy couple' are enjoying themselves, drinking and chatting with our friends and family. Seeing Erica happy is a privilage I haven't had in years, especially since... Well, it doesn't matter. But I can understand how she feels.

I can feel Joe pressing against my side as he talks to Miles, him leaning against the kitchen counter and me perched upon it. Although I know he's not doing it intentionally, it still feels special to me. It shows a breaking of boundaries; it's his unconscious way of being more affectionate.

A few moments pass before he turns to me, smiling slightly. I notice Miles' absence, confused as to when he left. I was too preoccupied with the feel of Chandler's warmth, but I smile back anyway.

We start to talk about random subjects - words being uttered, sentences being strung, but none of them matter; it's just idle chat. I feel his hand slip into mine, and I realise.

My life is finally getting better. Everything Erica and I have dreamt of is becoming a reality. Jobs, friends, family; we have it all now.

Life is gonna be good from here on out.

-WC-

Timmy lay silently in his hospital bed. The only sound that could be heard in the room was the frequent beeping of the heart monitor. That was until he heard a gentle knock, followed by the opening of the door.

"Hello, Emerson." Timmy grinned.

The door shut a bit harder than usual.

"Uniforms will be here soon to watch you. Until then, I'll be doing it." Kent stated bluntly.

"Got stuck with babysitting duty?"

"I volunteered. Someone has to make sure nothing happens to you until you're well enough to be questioned."

"Questioned? Why would you need to question me? I've admitted to it. I told you why I did it. What more could you need?"

"We still need to figure out how you managed to infiltrate our team."

"She faked all my files." Timmy smirked as he saw Kent's dazed reaction.

The DC hesitated before asking, "She?"

"The thing is, Emerson... I know everything."

Kent's heart leapt into his throat. How?

Timmy grinned, seeing the panic on the young man's face and the tenseness of his shoulders. "She told me everything I needed to know about you. And let me just say, well done."

"Shut up." The DC snapped.

"I mean, that sister of yours, she's a right piece of work, but you..." Timmy laughs. "When I first heard about the shit you two did and the trouble you caused, I couldn't help but wonder: how are you a police officer? How did you get away with it all? But I know now. It was her. Before the police could get involved, she would talk you away, give you a new identity, protect you. Though, with a disease like schizophrenia, there's only so far she can help. And how do you repay her? By abandoning her! Running off and leaving her!"

"We needed a fresh start-" Kent mutters weakly, but Timmy interrupts.

"And imagine what your team will think when I tell them."

Kent's head snapped up from where he was gazing at this feet and looked at Timmy, who laughs again.

"What? Think I wouldn't tell? I bet they will be so disappointed, or disgusted. They will never be able to look you in the eye again. You will lose everything and probably rot in prison for the rest of your life, Erica too." The man turned to look out the window. "Look at that big world out there. I have a life, a name, and I always will. See, I'm part of it. But you... You don't belong. Not being the person you are." He sensed Kent shift behind him. "She's gonna win, you know? There's no doubting it. You and all your friends won't know what hit them."

Fingers brush against Timmy's arm, startling him. He turned to see Kent standing next to him with a smile on his face.

"I know she'll win. I've spent enough time with her to know you're right." Kent remarked. "But you're wrong if you think you're telling them about me." Timmy noticed the needle in Kent's hand. He went to yell out but a hand covered his mouth, preventing his shouts. Kent's other hand quickly injected the solution into the cannula Timmy wore. Timmy felt himself become drowsy as unconsciousness over took him.

Kent sat back in the chair, put the cap back on the needle and placed it into his pocket. He watched Timmy from across the room, his face emotionless until the monitors started beeping. He stood up quickly as nurses ran into the room, placing a panicked expression on his face.

One of the nurses turned to the DC. "What happened?" She asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "He was asleep when I walked in so I just sat and kept an eye on him. Then the machines went off..."

"Okay. I just need you to wait outside for a few moments." The nurse informed him in a calm manner.

Kent remained in his panicked state as he was ushered out of the room. However, as soon as the door shut, his face once again became an emotionless mask. He started walking down the deserted hall, but accidentally bumped someone walking in the opposite direction. He turned to apologise, but froze when he saw an old woman dressed in red.

"What are you doing here?!" Kent asked, shock and anger seeping into his tone.

She smiled. "I came to tie up some loose ends, but you appear to have done it for me." At Kent's shocked look, she continued, "Did you really think I would let him tell? I don't wish to harm you."

Kent scoffed in disbelief. "You don't wish to harm me? Yet you sent him here in the first place and told him all our secrets? Excuse me if I don't believe you."

The man turned his back on the lady and continued walking. However, he stopped when she shouted, "How long will you keep hiding behind that uniform? It's not you. You know it, I know it, Erica knows it. You'll get bored eventually. Your sister already has. How much longer will you pretend to be something you're not?"

The DC turned back to her. "If you care about me at all... You would leave me alone, Aunt Louise."

-WC-

Timmy's laugh (before being shot) was inspired by this scene: watch?v=qfcEHOrhJmQ

The extra chapter mentioned in the first authors note will be me talking through the idea I had for a part 2 of this. However, I am not going to be writing the part 2. I was going to explain what I have planned because the end of this is kind of cliffhanger-y, and there have been hints at some plot points of part 2 in this chapter.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed the fic, and thanks for bearing with me :)