A/N: This chapter references my stories "Christmas with the Family" and "After the Bullets". Again, it stands alone so you don't need to read those stories in order to enjoy this one. But I'm posting the titles in case you missed them.

Be sure to read Labyrinth's latest chapter of "Welcome Her Home with Red Roses", bandbalso's "A Double Eagle Encounter", as well as ProcrastinationQueen's sweet "Love Through the Dark".

Also, a reader alert is in order. In this chapter Brenda discusses her attempted rape and murder by Phillip Stroh.

Chapter 2:

At breakfast the following morning, Brenda asked, "What does your day look like?"

"I'm going to be in the field with Bruno Hechsler just about all day. He's working a forgery case and his partner is on medical leave, so I said I'd help him out. What about you?"

"I'm gonna go to court. Everyone seems to be complainin' about the case a new DDA was assigned. For some reason she chose to have a preliminary hearin' and it's this mornin'. I want to see if there's anythin' Investigations can do to help her. Oh, and don't forget that I'm gonna go with Andrea to her spa tonight after work."

"Are you two going to get something to eat afterward?"

"We haven't talked about it. Why?"

"I'm just wondering if I need to grab something to eat on my own."

"No, I don't feel like sushi and that's where Andrea always wants to go. I'll bring somethin."

"Ok. I'll plan on you picking up dinner on your way home, then. Just call me if you change your mind."

"Ok," Brenda replied while finishing her coffee.

As Fritz rose he noticed her prescription bottle on the counter so he picked it up and put it on the table in front of her. "Don't forget this."

"I already told you I'm not gonna take it."

"Why not?"

"I don't need it. And didn't you hear Dr. Leonard recitin' all the side effects?" she asked.

"And didn't you hear her say that the side effects were felt mostly by teenagers?"

"I don't need it." Brenda was adamant.

"Yes, you do. That last flashback was dangerous."

"It was just a twig, Fritz. It wasn't dangerous at all."

"The twig wasn't dangerous, but holding your gun and shaking so hard that you couldn't control it was." He stopped and studied her for a minute before continuing. "Look, you need this so just take it."

"Fritz, I don't know how many ways to say it. I don't need it and I'm not gonna take it."

"Sometimes you just drive me crazy," he said as he closed his briefcase and headed out the back door.

Brenda couldn't miss the frustration and irritation in his voice. But she sat there until she heard Fritz's car backing out of the driveway, then she got up and put the bottle back on the counter, and finished getting ready for work.

After a brief warmup, Brenda and Andrea began their Zumba workout. It wasn't long before Brenda had worked up a sweat and was panting. When instructed to do so she took her pulse and found that her heart rate was safely within the target range, even though her body told her that she was going to die. But if her heart rate told her that she could continue, she would keep going. And as the workout resumed, she thought, I'm gonna pay for this tomorrow. And later, when she still didn't die, I'll bet if I could do this three times a week like Andrea, my muscles wouldn't scream at me the next day, and I wouldn't wind up feelin' like a crippled 80 year old woman. Since a spa membership wasn't in her budget, Brenda was grateful to Andrea for the times that she invited her to come along as her guest.

They topped off their workout with a shower and a massage. Then, just as Brenda had predicted, Andrea asked her if she'd like to go get some sushi for dinner.

"Oh, thank you, Andrea, but Fritz is countin' on me to bring dinner. He's had a rough day and I suspect he needs a little TLC," she lied with a smile. "Maybe some other time."

"All right. I don't want to go alone so I think I'll get some takeout for myself, too."

"I hope I'm not spoilin' your dinner plans," Brenda replied, feeling guilty that Andrea had befriended her and had invited her to be her guest at the spa, and now she was repaying her benefactress by forcing her to eat alone.

"No, actually, I didn't have any real dinner plans. It's probably for the best. I have to review some case updates for my staff meeting in the morning."

"All right, then," Brenda smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow. And thank you so much for invitin' me and introducin' me to Zumba. Even though I thought I would die, I didn't, and I loved it."

Andrea laughed, "Believe me, I know that feeling well."

Driving home Brenda thought, I'm so tired I could fall asleep right now. At least I probably won't have any more flashbacks tonight. I need Zumba, not pills.

That evening, while Brenda was setting the table for dinner, the phone rang. Fritz was bringing the take-out boxes in from the kitchen and heard one half of the conversation.

"Hi, Daddy, how are you? Is anythin' wrong? You want to come here? Yes… Yes, you're welcome to come but I don't ever cook anythin' special for Easter dinner. We can go out for dinner, though… Well certainly, she's welcome to come, but doesn't she want to go on Easter break with her friends? Really? Well, of course, I want to see her again. Since she's in college now, I don't ever get to see her when I come to Atlanta. The last time was Christmas… Sure… No, you get the guest room. Charlie can sleep on the sofa… Daddy, I know that her name is Charlene. But she's old enough to be called Charlie if that's what she wants… All right, let me know your flight arrangements… I love you, too… Bye."

When Brenda turned back to the table, Fritz commented, "I guess that means we're having company for Easter."

"Yes. Daddy says that Charlie wants to come here. Joyce won't give her the money to go with her friends to Acapulco for Easter break and she doesn't have enough money to pay for it herself. I guess our house is her only chance to avoid goin' home."

"Well, one good thing is that she has to get back to school so we won't have another skirmish over her living with us."

"I'm sure we won't. It sounds like she really loves Georgetown." Then Brenda grinned, "Besides, aren't you curious about what color her hair will be this time?"

"I hope it won't be quite the shocker that the red and green hair was at Christmas," Fritz chuckled and took a sip of his water.

"Well, no matter what color her hair is, she'll fit right in here in LA."

The next morning after breakfast Fritz once again picked up the bottle of antidepressants and put it on the table in front of Brenda. "Don't give me any excuses. Just take it."

Brenda looked up at him with an angry expression and said, "No."

"You know that you need this. So why don't you do the responsible thing and take it?"

Brenda gave him a silent, icy stare so he shook his head, turned, picked up his briefcase and cell phone, and left.

That's two mornin's in a row that he didn't kiss me goodbye. That man can be so stubborn, she thought as she sighed and picked up the bottle and put it in the cupboard. Maybe if he doesn't see it he'll quit buggin' me about it. Then she took care of the breakfast dishes and got ready for work.

Brenda was in her office on the phone with one of her investigators. When she hung up the phone her secretary buzzed her almost immediately and told her that DDA Sorenson had arrived for her appointment.

"Thank you, Linda. Please ask her to come in." Her meeting with DDA Sorenson began by listening to her explain the problem with some critical evidence.

"If you knew that your evidence was weak, why did you request a preliminary hearin' instead of convenin' a grand jury?" Brenda asked after DDA Sorenson's explanation.

"I thought it would be the best way to go in this case. Dan Hart's defense counsel was making statements to the press on an almost daily basis and I thought a preliminary hearing would be the best way to shut them down," DDA Sorenson replied.

Brenda recognized the defensiveness in her tone and decided not to let her get away with fogging the facts. "Well, that decision may have just cost you this case. You called for a preliminary hearin' even though your evidence was less than conclusive. And the result is that the defense counsel now knows that your evidence is weak and will use that knowledge to their advantage."

DDA Sorenson squirmed before asking her next question. "Can Investigations help get this case back on track?"

"I attended the preliminary hearin' and examined the evidence, as well as the entire case record, includin' the witness statements. And I honestly don't know what we can do. We're not miracle workers. We can't pluck new evidence out of the air. It's too late to send the case back to the LAPD for further investigation so the best you can probably hope for now is to reach a deal. But don't count on it. Hart's attorneys know that they can probably get an acquittal in court and they also get the benefit of hundreds of additional billable hours, not to mention all the free publicity."

DDA Sorenson's face flushed. She nodded and mumbled a chagrined, "Thank you," as she left Brenda's office.

Maybe I was a little hard on her, Brenda thought as she watched her leave. She's not the first DDA to let grandstanding get in the way of good prosecution and she certainly won't be the last. Hopefully she'll learn from this.

Four days later, Brenda and Fritz were on the couch watching the local news when a reporter began a story about the cost to taxpayers of the trials of local serial killers and Phillip Stroh's picture suddenly flashed onto the screen. Brenda jumped up and the popcorn bowl she had been holding on her lap fell onto the corner of the coffee table and broke. Shards of pottery and popcorn were scattered on the floor. She froze when she saw it, then ran from the room as a scream strangled in her throat. Fritz followed her into the bedroom where he found her on the bed in the fetal position hyperventilating. He sat down beside her and rubbed her back until she began to regain control.

"W… would you clean up the p… popcorn?" she asked while gulping for the air that her lungs couldn't seem to capture.

"Of course. You stay here and I'll take care of it," Fritz replied softly. He kissed her forehead and left the room. Phillip Stroh's image retreated from her mind when she heard the broken pieces of pottery hitting the wastebasket and she started to calm down. Her heart stopped pounding in her ears and her whole body began to relax. When she heard the vacuum cleaner she got up, checked the bathroom window to make sure it was locked, and washed her face before returning to the living room.

The next morning, Fritz found the prescription bottle in the cabinet and placed it on the table in front of Brenda. "You haven't been taking these, have you?"

She had expected to hear an angry accusation in his voice but what she heard was disappointment and sadness. That was more devastating to her than his anger would have been. Her heart sank and she softly said, "No."

Fritz just sighed and replied, "I've got to go," and left.

She sat staring at the bottle for a long time before getting up and pouring a glass of water, and finally taking one of the pills.

The following day they returned to Dr. Leonard's office for their next appointment. The first thing the doctor asked was if either of them had experienced any more nightmares or flashbacks.

Fritz waited for Brenda to speak. When she didn't, he spoke up in order to give her a few more seconds to pull her thoughts together. He told Dr. Leonard that he hadn't had any more nightmares, all the while fervently hoping that she'd admit that she'd had another flashback.

But Dr. Leonard wasn't fooled. "Fritz, do you often cover for your wife?"

He was startled. "Well… I, uh… I wasn't covering for her. It's just that this is very hard for her."

"Your wife is a very strong woman, Fritz. She can handle this." Fritz nodded but Brenda just sat there studying her hands so Dr. Leonard prompted her by asking, "Have you had any nightmares or flashbacks since our last appointment?"

Brenda looked up at Dr. Leonard and admitted, "I had a flashback two days ago."

"Tell me about it."

Brenda described the popcorn incident and concluded by explaining that when she had first investigated Stroh for rape and murder there had been a broken popcorn bowl and popcorn on the victim's floor. "Everythin' just came back to me and I freaked out."

Fritz was proud of her as she described the incident. She's not trying to minimize it.

Then Dr. Leonard asked the $64,000 question: "Have you been taking the medicine?"

"I only started takin' it yesterday. At first I didn't think that I needed it, but Fritz says that I do."

"Do you think that you need it?" Dr. Leonard asked.

"I don't know. But if takin' it will keep him from buggin' me about it every mornin' I'll take it."

"Brenda, I think you will see the benefits of the medication. But it will take two or three weeks of you taking your daily dose for the drug to build up in your system so you could have some more flashbacks. But if you're still having them in three weeks we can adjust the dose. And you need to call me immediately if you have any side effects so we can switch you to another medication."

Brenda nodded her head and said, "Ok."

"Fritz, I know you have your wife's best interests at heart. But this has to be Brenda's decision and you need to accept that. Constant reminders are counterproductive."

"All right. I won't say anything more about it," Fritz promised.

"Let's focus on your latest flashback for a minute, Brenda. Just so I'm clear, you said that everything came back to you. Since you've been concerned about Stroh for years I'd like to know exactly what his image on TV brought up in your mind," Dr. Leonard explained.

Brenda cleared her throat, stalling to give herself a few seconds to overcome her emotions and to refocus before beginning. "Well, in my mind I saw the bathroom screen cut and lyin' on the floor. And when I saw the broken bowl and the popcorn all over the floor I was afraid he was back in the house. But, of course, he wasn't. And I knew that, even though it scared me."

"Good, that's an improvement. Now, let's go to his attack on you. Were you alone when Stroh attacked you?" Dr. Leonard asked.

"You mean in real life or in my flashback?"

"In real life. I want you to go back to the beginning, when he broke into your home. Who was there with you when you saw the screen on the bathroom floor?"

"Oh, right. Well, I was in the bathroom talkin' to Rusty. He was in the dinin' room but I couldn't see him from where I was," she replied.

"Did you see anything else?"

"The bathroom window was open and I saw the cut screen on the floor. And I knew that Phillip Stroh had broken in and he was hidin' somewhere in the house."

"Describe exactly what you see on the film playing in your mind," Dr. Leonard probed.

Fritz's heart ached when he saw his traumatized wife begin shaking. He wanted to help her through this lancing of her festering wound so he did the only thing he knew to do. He took her hand again and said, "Take a deep breath."

Brenda nodded, breathed deeply and began again. "Ummm, I'm seein' the cut screen. I know it means that Stroh is in the house. Then I'm checkin' my pockets and my waist band for my gun. I see my purse on the kitchen counter and I know my gun is in it so I grab the curlin' iron. It's the only thing I see that I can use as a weapon." Brenda was still shaking and breathing heavily.

"That's very resourceful of you. Go on," Dr. Leonard encouraged.

"I walk into the kitchen intendin' to get my gun but Stroh is there. He's dressed all in black and he's holdin' Rusty with a huge knife to his throat. I drop the curlin' iron and he orders me to sit on my hands so I do. I give Rusty the signal to flip him and when he does, I run to the counter to get my gun, but then Stroh trips me, tryin' to make me fall. He slashes Rusty in the leg and Rusty kicks the knife away. I'm lookin' for my gun in my purse when Stroh pulls my legs out from underneath me and I fall onto the floor." Brenda was once again hyperventilating.

Dr. Leonard spoke in a low, soothing tone. "Take a deep breath… Another one. Now look around the room. You're in my office and you're safe here. No one is here except your husband and me. No one is going to hurt you." When she saw that Brenda's breathing had steadied she urged her to continue.

"Ummm… I'm on the floor and Stroh is on top of me tryin' to pull my pants down…" Brenda began shaking even more violently. She was overwhelmed and couldn't speak. Fritz, in tears himself, put his arms around her.

Dr. Leonard made note that it was the attempted rape that seemed to cause this crushing emotion that she was experiencing.

When Brenda regained control, she recognized it too, and when she could once again speak, said, "You know, it wasn't that he was tryin' to kill me that bothered me as much as that he was tryin' to rape me, and he wanted to do it in front of someone else before killin' me. I've had murderers try to kill me before, but I've never been raped."

Fritz's arms tightened around her and he moaned, "Oh, God, sweetheart."

She continued, "I guess you must think that's really weird that I would be more frightened of bein' raped than bein' killed."

Dr. Leonard replied, "No, Brenda, I don't think it's weird at all. As a matter of fact it's pretty common."

When Brenda heard that she took a deep breath, left Fritz's arms and sat up in her chair. She then took a tissue from the box that Dr. Leonard had handed to Fritz. After wiping her eyes and blowing her nose she said, "I think I've been more afraid after it was all over than while it was goin' on. I wasn't afraid then. Well, I guess I was. But I was more angry than scared. Not just that I was gonna be raped, but that he was gonna rape me in front of someone else. A kid. A teenage boy. That made me furious, and it made me fight harder."

Dr. Leonard nodded and said, "I can understand that. Rape is horrible anytime. But involving a child adds to the horror of it. Continue with what you see on that film playing in your mind."

"I'm fightin' for my life and Stroh is tryin' to choke me. I manage to get my foot up and I kick him in the face and he falls onto his back. He grabs his knife then he comes at me again but I get to my gun and I shoot him four times. I have to shoot him through my purse because I don't even have enough time to take my gun out, so I don't kill him. There's blood all over. Rusty begs me to shoot him again and Stroh begs me not to kill him. I'm pretty sure I can get away with killin' him and I tell him that. He promises to confess everythin' if I won't shoot him again. But I decide that I really don't want to hear anythin' he has to say so I refuse to listen to it. And then I call 911. I give Rusty a towel to wrap around his leg to stop the bleedin' and I keep my gun trained on Stroh until the police and paramedics arrive.

"Then it's all over and all I want to do is collapse, but I can't. There's all this after-action cleanup with FID and SID everywhere in my home. And since my home is a crime scene, I know I have to move out for several days. I couldn't even pack a suitcase without them watchin' me, checkin' even my bras and panties, and needin' to approve everythin' I packed. That was horrible. It felt like I was bein' exposed and treated like I was the criminal," she said bitterly.

"Brenda, it's completely natural that you've had nightmares and flashbacks. I'd be more worried about you if you weren't reliving that harrowing experience," Dr. Leonard reassured her before continuing, "After describing it frame by frame, tell me how you feel now."

"I just feel empty."

"Are you still afraid?"

"No, just empty. And exhausted," Brenda replied.

Dr. Leonard observed that Fritz had turned white so she turned to him and asked, "How did hearing Brenda's description of what happened make you feel?"

"Sick at my stomach, Doctor. This is the first time I've ever heard it in such detail. I want to throw up."

"Did you ever ask Brenda to tell you what happened?"

"Yes. She gave me the broad strokes and she said she would give me more details if I wanted to hear them. But, at the time, she was in such an emotional state that I was afraid I would be asking her for more than she was ready to give. And later on she said she didn't want to talk about it, she just wanted to forget about it. She closed up. And, believe me, no one can get Brenda to talk when she doesn't want to."

Dr. Leonard followed up by asking, "Brenda, can you now see that talking the experience through helps you gain control over it?"

She nodded in relief, "I do feel better. Does this mean that I won't have any more flashbacks about it?"

"No, not yet. But if you do, it's important to talk it through just as we did today. You can talk to Fritz about it. And, of course, we'll talk about it in our sessions. And keep taking the medication. Between therapy and the medication, I think we can eliminate the flashbacks."

"All right, Doctor," Brenda nodded.

Dr. Leonard turned her attention to Fritz. "How do you feel now about what you've been hearing?"

"Rage. Rage and hatred of Stroh. For the first time in my life I really, really want to kill someone."

"What else are you feeling?"

"I feel sick. I want to throw up."

"Fritz, look at your wife and tell me what you see."

"She seems perfectly calm now. As a matter of fact, I can't believe how she could describe something so horrific and be so calm," he replied.

"Discussing it helped her gain perspective on it. And I think you can achieve the same benefit by discussing your nightmares both with Brenda and with me."

"After hearing what actually happened in such detail I'm sure I'll have a lot more nightmares," Fritz replied.

"You might. So I want to give you an assignment. Write the details down and bring them with you to our next session. And discuss them with Brenda, too." When she saw Fritz's look of surprise, she smiled and said, "Don't worry about Brenda. Look at how calm she is now. She's a very strong woman. And she'll listen to you. I think it will be good for both of you."

Brenda turned to Fritz, took his hand and said, "You know I will."

Dr. Leonard saw that the color had returned to his face. "How are you feeling now, Fritz?"

"I feel calmer just looking at Brenda."

"Do you still feel like you want to murder Phillip Stroh?"

"Yes, but I won't."

"Do you still feel sick?"

"No. Not anymore."

As they walked back to the car, Brenda suggested, "Let's get somethin' to eat. That session has left me starvin'."

Fritz, still marveling at his wife's resilience, smiled and said, "You pick the place."

To be continued…

A/N: PLEASE review. Your comments, whether long or brief, are very much wanted. Thank you.

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