A/N - Thanks for all the reviews! Once again, you all made my day. I'm starting to wrap up the story now - but reat assured you guys are six chapters behind my writing - you still have much to look forward too!

So keep reading and reviewing - let's see if this chapter can take the reviews up to fifity!

Chapter Twelve – When Tomorrow Is Impossibility

"Walter, I need you to focus."

Walter paused mid-movement, turning to Olivia.

"Sorry dear. What did you ask?"

"What could this person have planned for these kids?"

"It depends."

"Would it be possible to erase those talents? Or transplant them?"

Walter frowned slightly, sitting down, tapping his liquorice on his chin.

"In theory, yes. The human brain is a wonderful thing. You know, it is possible for doctors to remove half of a child's brain and it just makes new connections and paths for them to grow up with? Simply fascinating."

Olivia frowned and felt the beginnings of a migraine hamming away just below her temple.

"You know, Aristotle believed that the centre of thought was the heart, not the brain. He thought that the whole job of the brain was to actually cool the heart. Thank goodness we know better now."

Olivia took a deep breath, releasing it through her nose.

"Walter, what would they need to do?"

Walter shrugged slightly.

"I presume that the procedure would be a simple case of removal."

"How would they do that?"

"Focus on the area of the brain for which the talent stems."

"So, whoever is doing this they would need to know their way around the brain?"

"I would assume that it would be a necessity. For example, for our little piano playing prodigy, that would be located in the cerebellum. For math, it would be the parietal lobe. So yes, that knowledge would be handy to have."

Walter chuckled to himself and turned back to his microscope. Olivia turned on her heel and headed back to the truck. The paranoia beneath her skin was making her itch and every few seconds she was glancing in the rear view mirror. Peter was with Michael waiting for her so that they could go and see Wyndell James. This time, she saw the grey sedan when it was four cars down. She switched route, heading away from the Wainwright's secondary estate. Olivia realized her mistake too late. In protecting Michael, she had driven herself onto a lonely street, with not much traffic. She increased her speed, trying to lose the car by dipping down narrow streets. She flicked on her phone and waited.

"Liv where-"

"The grey sedan is following me."

"Where are you?"

"Ashmore Ave. I'm trying to lose him."

"Stay on the line. I'll call Broyles."

Olivia could hear Peter dialling, his quick breaths and his rushed tones as he briefed Broyles. He hung up, coming back to her.

"He's sending someone now."

"Ok. I can't shake him."

"Same car?"

"Yup. Grey and a suspicious lack of plates."

Olivia was too busy focusing on an escape route that she didn't see that the sedan was almost on top of her until it was too late. The grey sedan increased its speed and rammed her, hard.

"Shit!"

Olivia struggled to gain control, ignoring Peter's questions. She finally got the car under her control but it was too late. The grey sedan rammed her again, hard enough to push her off the road. The last thing she heard was the crunch of metal and Peter's panicked voice begging for her to answer him.

It was the throbbing pain that woke her. A deep burn that was coming from her right arm. It trampled a steady rhythm from her wrist and up her shoulder. And it was light feathery strokes to her face that made her eyes open, blinking against the bright lights.

"Hey honey."

Peter's face was blurry and it took a few seconds for him to come into focus, a small smile on his face.

"Welcome back."

"What happened?"

"You were pushed off the road. Some agents found you a few minutes after the crash."

Olivia frowned, struggling to sit up. She gritted her teeth to hold back a scream when she tried to put weight on her right arm, falling back against the pillows.

"You broke your arm."

"What?"

"See for yourself."

She looked down, seeing the cast for the first time. That explained the burning and the pain.

"Dammit. Broyles is going to take me off the case now."

"No he's not. I just have to be the gun handler for a while. Six to eight weeks to be precise. And that's just the cast, not the physio that you will need afterwards."

Then the fear hit her, full force.

"Etta."

Peter's hand drifted over her face.

"She's fine. Kathleen has her and an agent has them."

"Ok. Michael?"

"Perfectly safe. Though he's worried about you. I think he has a crush on you."

"Jealous?"

"Nah, I can take him."

Olivia sighed and closed her eyes.

"I let them push me into a quiet street. I let them get me alone."

"All that matters is that you are safe."

"All this does is make me angry."

"I know. Me too."

Olivia eased herself into a sitting position again, mentally going over her body. She had a vague pain across her chest, from the seat belt she presumed but other than the arm, she felt fine.

"Can I got home?"

"In a little bit. They are organising you some pain relief for us to take home."

"What did Broyles say?"

"His main concern was that you were ok. And as soon as you are in the clear, he's given us full permission to go and see Wyndell James again."

"Good. I don't want this to lie just because of this. We need to find those kids. I was talking to Walter and he said that it is completely possible to remove parts of the brain. Whoever is doing this could be literally taking the talents from these kids."

"So they will be preforming brain surgery? On children?"

"Yes. So we are looking for someone with the knowledge of the human brain."

"That could be any of our scientists. After all, you need to do biology to get any kind of medical license."

"That's what I thought too. But Wyndell James is the first on the hit list simply because of the connection to the Wainwrights. It's the only solid thing we have."

Peter nodded, allowing her to continue her musings while he fussed over her blankets. Eventually, her flow stilted and she sighed.

"I'm fine Peter. But I could do with that pain medication so we can get back to work."

Peter leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss, sliding out of the room with a smile. He was back a few minutes later, a glass of water in one hand, a small collection of pills in the other.

"These should help. Take them and then we can get out of here. I told them we had to leave before you lost your patience."

"Do you have some for later?"

Peter patted his pocket.

"And a prescription for more if you need them."

Olivia smiled before popping the pills, pushing them down with the cold water. She stayed in bed, watching as Peter started gathering her belongings, putting her clothes on the end of the bed so she could change. It took her longer than normal, thanks to the club that was now attached to her arm. It wasn't until they were halfway home that she started to feel strange. The world took on an incredibly colourful hue, pulling and stretching, moving slower and faster all at the same time.

"Peter?"

"Yes, wife of mine?"

"What were those pills?"

"Painkillers."

"Were they sedatives?"

Peter said nothing and Olivia closed her eyes with a sigh, her sluggish brain finally understanding Peter's master plan. He was putting her in the backseat for this part of the case. He had done it on purpose. Her own husband had drugged her.

"It was a bad break, Liv. You need to rest."

"The case."

"I can take care of this part. All I need to do is check in with Wyndell James. Broyles has already agreed to come with me."

Olivia opened her mouth to protest but her mouth no longer seemed attached to her brain, the words stalling somewhere in her chest. All she managed was a slight grunt of protest.

"Liv, it will be fine. I promise."

Olivia leaned her head against the frame of the door, her eyes getting heavier and heavier. She fought the drugs, escaping their colourful grasp every time they tried to pull her under. Peter helped her from the truck, chuckling to himself as she failed to find her feet. He half carried her, half dragged her to the door, his voice echoing oddly in her head as he announced their arrival to Kathleen and Etta. He helped her up the stairs and into bed, tugging off her boots before tucking her in. She watched through half-closed eyes as he moved into the bathroom, filling a glass of water and placing it on the bedside table. He sat on the edge of the bed, playing with a strand of her hair.

"You can be angry with me later, when you have had a rest."

Olivia had the perfect threat in her head, but settled for hitting him lightly instead, her hand coming to rest on his leg.

"I love you. I'll be careful and I will call you in a couple of hours ok?"

He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss before leaving the room. Olivia tried to keep fighting the drugs but they won, entwining her into a colourful, dreamless sleep.

When she woke up, the sun was fading and her throat was painfully dry. She gulped down the water before sitting up fully in bed, listening. She could hear Etta and Kathleen downstairs in the kitchen, Etta's chatter travelling cheerfully up the stairs. She moved carefully out of the bed and got changed; opting for one of Peter's sweater's over her own, pulling the sleeve over the cast to rest on her elbow. She waited for the pain as she carefully moved her hand, seeing how far she could push it before the throbbing started again. The painkillers were still doing their job, the pain soft and distant. She finally headed downstairs and into the kitchen. Etta was sitting on the counter, watching as Kathleen cut up some fruit, her face smeared with banana.

"Momma."

"Hey sweetie."

When Olivia got closer, Etta frowned, her small hand coming to rest on the cast.

"Momma has a booboo."

Olivia placed a kiss on her head.

"Yes, Momma has a booboo."

Etta offered Olivia a piece of banana, which she took, leaning on the counter.

"So are you ok?"

Kathleen's eyes flicked over the cast and the small bump on Olivia's head that she had just noticed earlier in the bathroom. It was nothing, a mere drop in the long list of injuries that she had gotten doing this job, but for Kathleen, the injuries were all new and concerning.

"I'm fine. Apart from the fact my husband drugged me and is out there pursuing a potentially dangerous suspect without me."

Kathleen nodded slightly, slicing up some kiwifruit before scooping Etta off the counter and settling her into the highchair, placing the bowl of fruit in front of her.

"He called why you were sleeping."

Kathleen glanced at her watch.

"He will be calling again soon. He said he had some news for you."

The phone started ringing and Olivia scooped it up from the cradle, not bothering with the niceties.

"Peter?"

"Hey Liv, feeling better?"

"No. What's the news?"

"Dr Wyndell James is not a suspect."

Olivia took the phone into the living room, curling into the sofa.

"How so?"

"He's dead."

"What?"

"It looks like he killed himself. He didn't leave a note."

"Definitely suicide?"

"Broyles seems pretty convinced. And his office and apartment were completely trashed. Some of the files from his office were missing and Broyles is working through the apartment now, trying to see if anything else is gone."

"Shit."

"Not what I said. I'm going to head off to see Michael in a few minutes and then I'll come home. As long as I'm allowed home that is."

Olivia sighed.

"You tricked me."

"I had too. You would never have taken those pills otherwise. You needed to rest. How is the arm now?"

Olivia extended her fingers, moving them around slightly.

"It seems fine. And to make it up to me, when this case is over, you are making me dinner. A fancy one. With candles."

"Agreed. I'll call you when I'm on my way home."

"Be careful."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you too."

Peter hung up and Olivia sighed as she gnawed on her thumb. She wouldn't be able to relax until Peter was at home again.

Etta was colouring Olivia's cast when Peter finally got home, two unexpected people in tow as he came through the front door. Michael and Angela stood in the door way, unsure and uncomfortable as they took in their home. Olivia frowned before offering them each a smile.

"Hi."

Michael smiled in return, Angela nodding in her direction. Peter scooped up Etta, pointing to the living room.

"Make yourselves at home. I'll get some drinks."

Olivia followed him into the kitchen, frowning as he moved around the kitchen.

"What happened? Is everything ok?"

Peter slipped Etta onto his hip as he got a tray from the cupboard and started up the coffee machine.

"Michael is worried about Angela. Apparently she hasn't slept since this whole thing started. And Michael is terrified. And I figured-"

"That they would stay here with us?"

"We have the room and frankly, it keeps them close."

"Or in more danger. They would have been safer at the other property."

Peter paused in his drink preparations, coming to face Olivia.

"If being here helps them sleep and makes them feel safer, why not?"

Olivia smiled slightly, taking Etta as Peter poured the coffees and a tall glass of chocolate milk.

"Perhaps Michael can help with Etta's duck and car confusion."

Peter chuckled.

"Maybe."

"So tell me more about Wyndell James."

Peter sighed.

"He had second thoughts. He hung himself but according to the coroner, the bruising and the injury to his tongue indicated that he struggled to free himself but it was too late."

"Perhaps he was forced into it."

"He was scared, that much was obvious. Apparently when he heard that his office had been trashed, he freaked out. He was connected, not that it matters now."

Peter picked the tray up off the counter and Olivia followed him back to their guests, Etta talking softly in her ear.