A/N: Hello! So I was originally planning on waiting a full week to post the next chapter, but I also know the story needs to move along a bit for new readers coming onboard, so I decided to go ahead and post this! Thanks so much for all your reviews and follows so far, it was more than expected, though some of you are coming from the first installment of the story so it's good to see you all back! Okay enough from me. Enjoy reading :)

Chapter 2 – Hypostasis

Madelyn jumped at the knock on the front door even though she'd been expecting it. Red and blue lights flashed outside and she quickly went to let the officers inside. She wasn't even crying. She should have been crying, right? All she felt was numb.

She was instructed to return to the kitchen where she sat hunched over at the table with a mug of hot tea. A female officer approached her, introducing herself only as Charlotte, and asked her a few questions until she appeared satisfied that Madelyn was alright, then Madelyn was left alone for a while.

All she could think was why? Who would want him dead? What had William ever done to anyone to deserve such an awful and horrific death?

She barely sipped at her tea as her conversation with John Harrison slid back into her thoughts. Could he have been wrong? Could it have been someone who wanted William's money? Would they come after her next? Was she even safe to go outside?

The sudden pang of fear that struck her was barely overshadowed by the weight of what had happened, though her thoughts refused to fully process everything. The knowledge was enough to handle, but her emotions refused to cooperate. William had been the center of her life for almost a year, a familiar pillar she could go to for anything. And he had been her last surviving family member.

It seemed her family was plagued by death, and she was the last one standing.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur. The remainder of the house was scoured for evidence, while Madelyn answered a few questions about where she'd been, and what William had been up to recently. By eleven o'clock, his body was finally taken from the living room. He'd been murdered, concluded the lead investigator, but that had been obvious to Madelyn from the start.

Charlotte came over again and asked her if she had another place to stay that night. Madelyn remembered Kelly had asked her to call, so she did, and told her everything. The officer strongly advised her to stay at Kelly's for at least several days and guided her upstairs so she could pack a bag. When they came down again a little while later, John was back, standing in the kitchen and having a few words with one of the other officers. Madelyn noticed he'd changed his shirt and wasn't wearing his coat, but didn't think on it further as she was guided towards the door, a stuffed duffle bag slung over her shoulder. She paused beside him, hesitant to speak until she saw the softness in his face.

"I'll be staying at my friend Kelly's for a while."

Compared to his steeled expression, his voice was surprisingly quiet. "Good. You shouldn't be alone."

Madelyn had only just met him and yet in that moment she sensed that he was capable of caring immensely, even though he may not have shown it. She didn't have the will to say anything else in return, so she turned and followed Charlotte out the door.

"Madelyn."

She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder.

"If you need anything, you have my number."

She offered him a slight smile, then headed out the door to catch up with Charlotte.

The way he had said it made her feel that much more secure, despite the fact that she'd only met him that evening.

Whoever this dangerous, manipulative smartass was that Admiral Marcus had warned her about, John wasn't him.

Kelly welcomed Madelyn into her college flat with open arms, but Madelyn wanted nothing more than to go to sleep without a word to her friend. She crashed on the couch and wrapped herself in a blanket, and when she woke up with the sun pouring onto her face, the only reason she bothered to get up was because the smell of coffee was hard to resist.

Almost the second she raised the mug of brown liquid to her lips, she remembered it was Monday, the start of the university's second week of classes, and she had to teach today. Suddenly she didn't even want her coffee and went to fish her communicator out of her bag. She glanced at the time. She'd slept practically all morning and her headache proved it.

The head of her department, an older Nigerian woman named Naomi, quickly reassured Madelyn that Kelly had called earlier that morning to explain what was going on, and Madelyn's classes would be taught by a substitute until she was one hundred percent ready to return to work. Madelyn thanked Naomi wholeheartedly, and promised to be back by next week. Nevertheless, Naomi told her to take her time, that the process of grieving could be a long one, and not to forget about the possible occurrence of a court case should William's murderer be caught. Madelyn groaned at this revelation, but ended the call grateful that she wouldn't have to deal with the pressure of returning to work anytime soon.

Slipping her communicator into her pocket, she was suddenly overwhelmed with the fact that her grandfather was gone. She took up her warm mug of coffee and returned to the couch, where she curled up into a blanket and flipped on the television. She surfed through channels for a while, pausing on the local midday news, where they were covering the discovery of a man's body in a ditch outside of London. Madelyn about choked on her coffee when several photographs of the crime scene flashed onscreen. The man's body had been brutally broken, his head twisted around and his neck bent in an unnatural position. She quickly turned off the television, unable to shake the image of William's corpse from her mind. The only difference was William's throat had been deliberately slit, a barbaric and painful way to die compared to the quick and neat death of having one's neck snapped.

Madelyn shivered at the thoughts racing through her head, flinching suddenly as she felt her communicator buzzing in her pocket. Noticing the caller id, she hesitated to answer it, but she knew Owen would get mad if she didn't.

With a sigh, she picked it up and held it open. "Hey, Owen." She quickly cleared her throat when she heard how tired she sounded.

"Maddy, I am so sorry about your grandfather. You don't sound good. I could come over—"

"No, you don't need to come over, Owen. I just woke up anyway."

It wasn't that at all, but she had no problem with lying to him. She simply didn't want him to come over. He would only try to coddle her in the most overbearing sort of way that would only make her feel worse about refusing to reciprocate his feelings.

"Where are you?" he asked quickly.

She paused, considering he probably knew the location of Kelly's dorm. "At a friend's," she replied blandly.

"You sure you don't want me to come over?"

"I'm sure." God, he sounded desperate. She breathed a heavy sigh. She needed to placate him somehow. "But there is something you could help me out with, if you don't mind."

"I'll do anything," he replied.

She had to smile at that. So predictable. "We'll want to start preparing for the funeral, I guess. Maybe you could get some things together for a presentation on his life or something. God knows there'll be a lot of important people at the funeral. I'll get to work on the obituary."

"Absolutely. I'll stop by your house. They'll let me in, right? Even if it's taped off?"

She swallowed. "Just avoid the living room and you'll be fine."

"Right, of course. Listen, if you need anything, you know how to contact me."

"I know, Owen. Thanks."

"Anytime, Maddy."

The call ended and Madelyn leaned her head back against the couch. Getting Owen to help her was easy, but getting him to stay out of her hair in the future was going to get increasingly harder now that William was gone. She felt her throat tighten up and tears prick her eyes. She would have to go back to the house outside London eventually. Working furiously on her lower lip, she pushed her blanket away and clambered off the couch. At least in the shower she could cry without making a scene in case Kelly came home.

Feeling more refreshed and awake after standing in the hot spray, Madelyn ruffled her dripping hair with a towel as she walked barefoot across the room to where her duffle was stacked on top of a storage cabinet. Her communicator buzzed periodically on the couch and she went over to glance at it. There was one voice message from an unknown number. She sighed. Insurance had probably already gotten wind of everything. She'd call them back later. For now she needed to get a start on that damn obituary. It was the least she could do to recall each and every thing her grandfather had done in his life that had made an impression on her, on Starfleet, and on society in general.

She grabbed some fruit for a very late brunch and spent the next several hours sitting in various places around Kelly's dorm writing, using the old fashioned technique of pen and paper because there was something more personal about that which she preferred. Maybe it was the instant connection between her brain and her hand and the words on the page that she liked, that made the words on the page breathe with more life than if they had been pixels on a PADD. She made a mental note to have her students do some writing by hand once she went back to the university. She imagined she'd get some complaints, but she knew the results would be worth it.

By three o' clock in the afternoon, she was satisfied with the overall obituary and set about counting the words. She laughed out loud at the final count. That was going to be one expensive column in the Telegraph. Shrugging, because she knew her grandfather had left a copious amount of money behind to her name, she settled into a cushioned chair at Kelly's tiny breakfast table and began typing the document into her PADD.

She glanced up when she heard the front door to the apartment open, but had to make a second take when John Harrison walked in behind Kelly. The blonde looked a little flustered, and Madelyn wondered what had transpired between them that had led to Kelly's agreeing to bring him straight inside her flat.

"He followed me home, Maddy. I was about ready to stun him, but he said you hadn't returned his call so I got a little worried."

Madelyn glanced at John as Kelly tossed her bag onto a table by the door and disappeared into her bedroom. Then she remembered the voice message on her communicator, and realized the number must have been John's. She hadn't added him to her contacts yet.

"I guess I should have listened to your message," she offered apologetically. "Sorry."

He didn't seem bothered. "I shouldn't have been so quick to contact you. You appear to be prepared to stay in for the day."

Madelyn suddenly felt self-conscious as he crossed the room. Not that she felt she needed to look pulled together for any reason, but she couldn't help but wonder what was going through his head as his eyes swept over her. Obviously his comment was directed at the way she was dressed. She wore a baggy teal t-shirt with black leggings, and no bra because she hadn't been expecting anyone but Kelly to turn up. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, but at least it was clean. She crossed her arms instinctively over her chest and focused her gaze back on her PADD as John came over and looked curiously down at what was on the screen.

"That is a rather long obituary," he remarked. Madelyn looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, partially because he'd pointed out something painfully obvious. He met her gaze as the corner of his mouth lifted, and she looked away.

"My grandfather was a very accomplished man, though he would never talk about it," she said, returning her gaze to the handwritten obituary she was transcribing onto her PADD. "I want people to know—specifically the people he worked with—that he was more than just a senile old man with a temperament and a generous streak. Starfleet probably wouldn't be what it is today without his contributions."

John didn't reply and Madelyn glanced up to see him open her communicator and tap a few buttons. A tinny version of his voice emanated from the small speakers.

"Though you may already be aware, the man responsible for your grandfather's murder was found dead in a ditch outside London this morning. The authorities have been unable to identify him due to the state of his face and skull, however I ran a few tests and a DNA match confirmed that he worked for Admiral Marcus. In fact he was one of the Admiral's top commanders up until last night. I thought you would want to know this, since Starfleet has not been willing to divulge this information to the media."

There was a pregnant pause in the message. John took a seat across the table from her as it continued.

"You need to be careful, Madelyn. There are things happening here outside of my control. I can only offer you my support, and should you need it, my protection. However my work will periodically take me off-world and I won't be able to stay in contact with you at all times. Call me back when you get this message."

She waited a moment to respond, letting the information in his message sink in. The way he was looking at her made her uncomfortable and she shifted, dropping her eyes back to her work.

"Did you mean that?" she asked.

John put her communicator on the table in front of her. "The people I work for cannot be trusted. I can't be sure who ordered the hit, but it's become clear to me that someone in Starfleet was unhappy with my contact with William."

Madelyn felt her features betraying a sense of horror. "What you're saying is if you hadn't talked to him, he'd still be alive. That could put me next on their list."

"I promise you it will not come to that."

The fierceness in his voice made her hesitate to retort. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that someone wouldn't break into Kelly's flat in the middle of the night and slice her throat open like her grandfather's, that he could somehow stop that.

She'd barely known him for twenty-four hours, and in that short space of time, her grandfather had been murdered and suddenly it was her life that was now in jeopardy. How could this man even pretend to promise her that she'd be safe? And why was he blaming himself?

She clenched her teeth together and dropped her gaze down to her PADD to keep her tears at bay. "How am I supposed to feel safe if Starfleet is putting hits out on their own benefactors?" she asked quietly, her voice betraying the emotion that welled up inside her. "And since when does Starfleet order assassinations in the first place? The money in my bank account belonged to William. If that's what Starfleet is after—"

"I can assure you it is not about money," John interrupted.

"Then what is it about?" she exclaimed. She was unwilling to accept the idea that she would never know what her grandfather died for.

"It's a complicated thing, but if I told you the truth, I would only be putting many more lives at risk, including yours, and I cannot do that."

She saw the way his jaw tightened and nostrils flared as he spoke, and suddenly she realized that maybe she was being a little selfish, that maybe there was more going on than she suspected and it would be better to slow down and wait and see how things played out. But she just couldn't shake the feeling that the thing she wanted to know was right on the tip of John's tongue and he simply refused to tell her.

And the worst thing was that maybe he was right.

She leaned back in her chair and ran her fingers through her hair with a long sigh. Kelly came out of her room at that moment and paused, looking between the two of them. "I'm heading out for dinner and movie with a few mates. I don't 'spose you want to come along, Maddy?"

Madelyn considered it, but her head felt heavy as her mind whirled through all the things John had said just now and in his message.

"No, you go ahead, Kel. I'm staying in tonight." She returned her friend's smile and watched the blonde head out the door. When Kelly was gone, Madelyn straightened and looked at John. "My being here isn't putting her in danger is it?"

"No, I wouldn't worry about her," he replied.

The confidence in his face and voice was somewhat reassuring, but Madelyn reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose anyway. "After the funeral, maybe I should get out of town for a little. William had a house down near the coast in Hastings. I bet I could convince the university to let me off for a few more weeks."

John nodded. "Stay out of London until things calm down. I may be able to find the ones responsible for this, but I can't confirm that they won't come after you. However, assuming you don't intend to cut off Admiral Marcus' monetary requests…"

Madelyn raised an eyebrow at the way he ended the sentence with the suggestion that he was all for the money to keep pouring in every month. She knew her grandfather had put several thousand every few weeks into a fund that he had created specifically for Marcus, but she had no idea what the money was actually used for.

"Is that what they're all talking about now? Losing the money?"

John lowered his voice, as though the subject was particularly sensitive. "Marcus has seemed more on edge since yesterday, yes. Which is also why I don't believe he is directly responsible. He would never order the assassination of someone who keeps his coffers full."

Madelyn nodded slowly. "It wouldn't effect me if the fund was kept alive for the next several decades. Though it'd be nice to know what it's being used for."

Another faint smile slipped through John's cool facade. "If I told you that, I would have to kill you."

Madelyn let herself match his look. "Let me guess, Admiral Marcus is building himself an army of self-aware androids armed with phaser cannons."

She knew Marcus wanted to slowly militarize Starfleet. He'd had the argument countless times before with William, but at the moment she needed to make sarcastic remarks if only to remind herself that her life wasn't totally over.

"No," John replied, dipping his chin in a failed attempt to restrain his amusement. Madelyn's smile widened slightly when she saw the look.

"Then I guess I'll just never need to know where the money is going."

But that was the only thing she didn't need to know. Everything else was far too important, like who had ordered the hit on her grandfather, and who had then killed the assassin? Why was it that she could indirectly blame John for this turn of events? He had even admitted to that and yet he wanted to protect her, but in order to protect her, he couldn't give her the answers to any of those questions in the first place.

It was an insufferable conundrum she found herself in, only slightly placated by the softness with which he was now looking at her.

"Do you want to go out to dinner?" she asked, feeling a sudden desire to understand this man who had stepped so quickly into her life at the very moment she needed someone the most.

She registered the faint surprise on his face by the way his eyebrows rose just slightly. Regretting her sudden impulse to ask out a practical stranger, she took her upper lip between her teeth and rapped her fingers on the tabletop, letting the awkwardness show on her face. "Nevermind, I shouldn't have even said that."

"I appreciate the thought," he replied quickly. "However I don't think it would be wise for us to be seen together in public by anyone in Starfleet."

Madelyn nodded, grateful he took her impulsive suggestion and her realization of said suggestion without offense. "Yeah, sorry, I don't know what I was thinking." She ran her fingers through her hair. "You probably weren't planning on staying long anyway."

"No. And I would've had no need to come over in the first place had you returned my call."

"I'll be sure to do that next time. I'm sure you need to get back to work."

John stood from the table and nodded, pulling his hands behind his back. "You will contact me if anything happens."

It was more of a command than a suggestion, but Madelyn nodded. "Don't worry about me. I'll be busy preparing for the funeral, so I definitely won't be alone for the next few days."

"Oh?"

"My friend Owen Gallagher is helping me out. He's in Starfleet under Admiral Marcus." She hesitated. John seemed to have stiffened at her mention of Owen. "Do you know him?"

"Commander Owen Gallagher. Yes, I know of him. From the small amount of time I've spent around him, I've learned he's brash, ineffective, and completely obsessed with you. Now that I've met you, I'm wondering why you keep him around at all."

"Well, he's my friend," she replied, hoping he could at least understand that. "And I don't share the feelings he has for me, despite what he might say. But he's supportive, and right now I need him."

John was silent for a moment, letting his eyes flit over her face before he pulled his communicator from his coat pocket. "I have several duties to attend to before I go off-world with Marcus next week. I may or may not see you again before then."

Madelyn stood and walked with him to the apartment's door. "I don't have any expectations. It sounds to me like the less we're together, the better off I'll be. But I'm glad to have met you."

John didn't say anything as he stepped outside, his gaze passing over his surroundings before returning to meet hers.

"Just let me know if you learn anything new about William's death," she said quietly. "I don't think I'm going to get the truth from anyone else but you."

"I will."

That was all he said before he turned and went away down the corridor with long strides. She watched him until he disappeared around the corner, and then she pulled herself back inside and shut the door quietly.

Despite the information he had relayed to her, John gave her a sense of stability that she hadn't felt in a long while, not since she'd lost Mark. It wasn't that he was a confident masculine male, or that she was attracted to him (which she was starting to admit to herself that she might be, though he was the sort of attractive that anyone could easily fall for, she told herself), but it was his countenance, the way he conducted himself, and the way he seemed to have a firm grasp on everything he said. He didn't mince words, but he didn't keep her guessing either.

Madelyn hadn't known many people who could present themselves to the world in such a self-possessed, coolheaded manner, and without coming across as overtly arrogant. John was merely knowledgeable and assertive, and as a result Madelyn saw no reason to alert Admiral Marcus to his entrance into her life, especially not with what had happened.

If anything, she decided she could trust John Harrison far more than either the Admiral or even Owen, and that quickly pushed John towards the top of her short list of people who she felt comfortable around. For now, she decided there was no harm in letting a new person into her life, and though that didn't mean she had to open up to him, at least she knew she could confide in him if something happened.

Alrighty, that's all for the week! Please review and give me feedback if you feel so inclined! I must know how you all feel about this rehash!