Author's Notes: Okay, so the last chapter was actually supposed to end with a little more angst but apparently it didn't, because I'm a horrible writer and anyway, it was better in my head. :P This chapter took me forever and a year to write and I had been ill and in and out of doctor appointments for tests and such (also forgot to mention at the end of Realizations I was in the ER) but luckily I didn't crap it up too much. x]

Okay, there is something I must get off my chest because I don't know why, but it wasn't until I was nearing the end of writing Realizations (probably because I wanted to use the Rihanna/Chris Brown reference) that I realized that Taylor Swift's "Love Story" wasn't released until 2008, making it three years after this story takes place…x-x;; I don't know how many of you noticed that or not, but it really bugged me after I realized it. Dx So forgive me, but the rant shall stay as is, it took forever to write in the first place. ^^;;

This chapter is going to be quite a bit longer than the last chapter (Fifteen pages compared to six…). Prepare. Anywho, this chapter switches from Perry and Elliot's POV and well…this is the climax of the story. This is also where I guess most of you will go insane mad because of the ending…most of you, anyway. I *really* had no other way to write this story other than this, so yeah…forgive and forget. :P I promise though, the next and final chapter will be worth the wait I should only hope…and oh yeah! I *slightly* merged Elliot's second POV (after…well, the first lyric, not to spoil :P) because I felt that it would work together better and since this is kind of Elliot's story, it gave her a longer narrative. :]

Well, enjoy, and here's popcorn for everyone *throws bags to each one of you*.

WARNING: This story I rated overall teen, but this particular chapter had some vulgar language in it that I should forewarn you about, you know, for the kiddies and whatnot out there…8)

*** = Flashback ;]

"Perry, where do you think you're going?"

"I have to find her Jordan, before it's too late," I declared hurriedly in a voice I have never once allowed Jordan to hear uttered from me, something I wouldn't permit anyone to hear from me ever again.

It was no surprise her face reflected those exact feelings I assumed she'd feel—shock and bewilderment. "Perry, do you even know where she's at?" she spoke mildly.

Standing there, I looked down at her disappointedly at the fact she made me realize I had absolutely no idea where that bastard lived. "No," I uttered, "No I don't, I suppose," I broke, still absolutely pissed at myself and grief-stricken by this whole thing and by Barbie.

Why didn't I just follow my gut instinct and stopped this from happening in the first place? Why in the hell did I have to choose to be stubborn and let Barbie unknowingly drive off to her own death? I'm such a fuckingidiot; I can't believe I didn't realize this from the beginning. Even Newbie…damn it, I should have seen this coming; that bastard practically screamed crazy from the start. Every telltale sign of his being should have let meknow! It should have clicked the moment he didn't want to come to the hospital, the moment Barbie came in with that bruise on her wrist…everything should have alerted me he was the killer!

"He gave Barbie an address earlier of where she'd meet him at over the payphone because he claimed he was too cowardly to show up at the hospital for her, but I seriously doubt anyone else has that address," I mumbled exhaustively as I paced back and forth in front of Jordan with my hands glued behind my head in frustration and anger.

"If he's already got away with twelve murders, then what makes you think that the address he gave Blondie wasn't just some remote location to…you know…"

"Jordan, we can't think like that. We need to check Barbie's apartment for any kind of address book she may have and her phone records to locate the guy," I stated heatedly. Wait…this man must have been some sort of genius for going this long without getting caught, because he wouldn't be so moronic as to let someone catch onto his trail that easily. "No…you're right, he probably has been covering everything up," I uttered in defeat as I sat back down, rubbing my temples stressfully.

Jordan caressed my shoulder while staring intently at the floor, her face void of any sort of emotion, and it wasn't just the Botox either. "We're going to need help. I'll call Blondie's friends and have them to meet us at her apartment pronto," she said as she began getting up and digging her cell out of her handbag.

"We don't have a lot of time, so Jordan, listen to me very carefully," I began as I stood up, taking hold of her arm, "I'm going on ahead of everyone and if you find the address, call me immediately. Have Newbie to look through Barbie's apartment since he's dated her and knows where the hell everything's at and have Carla and Turtlehead to search the area where Ms. Connor had collapsed," I spoke softly and firmly.

"I'm coming with you," she affirmed gravely, not once flinching or stirring.

Gripping her arm, I sighed and nodded. "No, Jordan. Listen to me—I want you and Newbie to leave Blondie's apartment as soon as you're sure you can't find anything, alright? Go ahead and call the police and then after you search her apartment, I want you to take Jack and go to your mom's for a while," I ended sternly.

Slinging her arm from my grasp, she snapped and shouted, "What the hell do you think you're going to do, show up to play superhero and save the day? What the hell! You'll get killed, you moron!" Jordan bit her lip angrily and quickly lowered her head, trying to conceal the fact that she was almost crying.

"Jordan, I'll be careful. I'll drop you off on the way and I'll drive around the city looking," I said decisively. I looked at her and sighed, "I don't want you or Jack to get hurt. If for some reason I don't make it back…that means he'll probably come after you next." Suddenly, the situation finally sunk in for the both of us, well, not so much me as it did for her.

With the last chance she had at fighting back before she broke, she asked, "Wait…he doesn't even know me. Why would he come after me for?"

"He'll assume the people I'm around knew who he was and that would pose a problem for him, and you'll most likely be the first one he'd go for because I'm closer to you. He may also know about you from Blondie, too, which would help in finding you. Same goes for everyone at the hospital, alert them as soon as possible." Sighing heavily, I realized that there was no way I was going to back out of finding Barbie, even if it meant my life. I had to try to save her. "I just don't want to take any chances, so I want you to get Jack as soon as you can't find anything and go to your mom's."

Jordan finally broke as she looked at me helplessly, "Perry, you can't do this!" she yelled vehemently.

I can't really say that I've ever seen this side of Jordan, but I knew she realized I could die. She also understood that she wasn't going to change my mind about it either.

"I have to Jordan," I started impatiently, "we can't argue about this anymore and you can't stop me from at least trying to save her." I looked at her as she nodded her head while dialing, trying to hold off the heavy tears to make it through the conversation as I changed out of my work clothes.

A few moments later after calling JD and Carla and finally the police, she mumbled, "Let's go," as she put the cell phone away. I knew she didn't want to accept it, but she knew that someone had to save her.

"Yeah," I mumbled as we both headed out the door.

It was really late. Going out into remote parts of the city wasn't exactly a hobby of mine, but Brian needed me. Still, I couldn't understand why Brian didn't just come to the hospital like everyone else did; I mean I wason-call, and he could ignore his phobias by at least visiting the clinic, can't he?

I walked up along the wobbly and rusted steps to his apartment because the main lobby was closed for the night. I'm not sure if it may have been because of my fear of heights, but it seemed like I was nine stories high already even though it was only a five story apartment complex. I tried not to look down so much because it made me nauseous, and I sure didn't want to do that to Brian and have him take care of me, the doctor, instead. I mean, how embarrassing would that have been?

I finally reached the door to apartment number 24, the last apartment in the building. When I got there, the first thing I noticed was how old and rotted the door seemed and how the outside didn't appear to be cleaned in years. Why would he stay in a place like this for? Another thing that caught my attention was how trash and dust was everywhere on this level outside, even toilet paper hung from the planters that held dead vines shimmied up the sides of the place under the broken window next to the doorbell. Looking the opposite of me, I saw that there was graffiti painted and fading on the brick with strange gang symbols that looked decades old. Wait—it wasn't just this apartment, the entire place was a dump. As I looked beyond my reach, I could see busted windows from a distance with sheets softly dancing in the quiet night's wind as they fluttered over more graffiti and old chairs that were isolated and left to decompose. How could anyone live like this?

"Hey, doll—" a coarse voice uttered from under me as I jumped and gasped, "—wha's a pretty thing like you doin' out this late in the night fo', 'specially at that rundown junk pile up there?"

I immediately leaned over the edge carefully and looked down, searching for the source of the voice and found an old man a story down with a cigar in his hand, eyeing me strangely but without contempt as his brow furrowed in curiosity.

"Um—I' m here to check on my boyfriend, he gave me the address to his apartment…maybe I'm at the wrong place?" I said warily as I walked down the steps cautiously to hand him the piece of paper I wrote his address on.

He gently took the paper from my grasp and looked over it, nodding in silent confusion. "It's the right address, but Baby Cakes, ain't nobody lived up in that fifth story fo' ova' thirty some years it been now," he began quietly as he looked up at me with his yellow and glassy bloodshot eyes, as if trying to let me know that I was crazy for even asking, "ain't nobody lived there since the Kessler murder's back in the mid-70's I do believe," he ended as he coughed from the cigar he was smoking on.

Blowing the smoke from my face, I asked curiously, "Murders? What do you mean?"

He grinned and took the cigar from his mouth and pressed it against the wall, extinguishing it whilst nodding. "It's quite the story. Yeah, I tell ya. Long about 1975 somewhere, they lived this family up in those apartments—big 'ol family. They wudn't the richest folk around, but you'd think they was with them many kids they had an' all that rent they were needin' to pay for 'em an' to take care of 'em an' all. Oh, they was some happy bunch'a kids, they were—all except fo' their ma, of course. She was strugglin' tah make ends meet, tah keep her marriage goin' and tah raise her family. You'd never thought she'd be capable of any wrongdoin' whatsoeva', but it got the lot of us when she'd gone and done what she'd a done. That very year, the whole family was ova' fo' Christmas dinna' an' she just snapped, just couldn't take it no more. She took the entire family out includin' herself with a butcha' knife that night. No one lived 'cept a boy of hers that managed to sneak out. It's a sad story, I tell ya, fifteen people died that night. Such a pity. 'N ever since then, ain't nobody wanted to live in that place after what happened there, they even some who claim it's haunted tah this very day," he ended grimly and reminiscently.

"Oh my God…that's horrible, I'm so sorry. Did you know these people?" I asked almost in tears. Kessler, why was that name familiar?

"Oh, not personally, I was just a newcoma' back then an' I really didn't get well acquainted wit 'em." He looked up at the floor above and sighed.

"Do you happen to recall the boy's name, or maybe what happened to him afterwards?" I asked him curiosity for having a sudden chill run up my spine when I heard only one got away, and something wouldn't quit nagging at me about it.

"The name was Michael Kessler. Nobody knows really, the last anybody heard of him, he was put into some sort of psychiatrics' ward fo' a long many a years it had scarred him so much," he said sharply as he looked back at me. "Yo' boyfriend must'a gave you the wrong address cuz nobody be livin' up there now," he said firmly as he put his hands in his pockets. "You best be gettin' on yo' way, girly, there are crazy folk out at this time o' night just a waitin' fo' a pretty young broad to come along n' prey on," he warned and nodded at me whilst walking away, "you best be careful now, y'hear?"

I smiled bashfully and nodded, "Yeah, thank you, I will," I mumbled quietly, almost to myself. Hey…my mom knew a few Kessler's when I was little…

While watching him walk back into his own home, I already agreed with myself that I was going to go ahead and try to knock anyway. I mean, I didn't want to come all this way for nothing and then disappoint Brian if he was there…that would be rude. He could also be in trouble too…so I can't do that. Although, it seems like the guy was telling the truth when he said nobody had lived there in over thirty years, I mean, it looked like it. So why would Brian give me this address to come to? Maybe I overheard him wrong?

As I started up the stairs, this sudden pain in the pit of my stomach erupted into something awful that made a lump in my throat. I'm not sure why it was now that I felt like I needed to run, but it was certainly an overwhelming feeling. I don't believe in ghosts, so it wasn't that. There was something else about this place that bugged me—how everything seemed so…ominous. Like something about this place screamed out that I needed to run, to get as far away as possible and I just couldn't figure out why. Why would I be feeling this way for? Didn't I trust Brian?

Before I could even answer myself, I was already absentmindedly knocking on the door. My heart started racing quickly as the most outrageous thoughts went through my head while I felt like I was being choked. Could I really be getting into something that I could be powerless to prevent? What if Brian isn't who he says he is? What if…

Suddenly as I stepped forward slightly, the door in front of me opened, only no one was standing there—just an empty, black room greeted me with a grim manifestation of shadows ahead.

…her killer instinct tells her to be aware of evil men…

I jumped in alarm. Something didn't seem right as a chill went up my spine. There was nobody there. When I started to lean back, I noticed a squeaking sound from up under my feet. I looked down and the floor board was loose next to the door's hinge, and it lowered down ever so slightly as I stepped off of it. So that's what caused the door to open. It was an old door after all. This entire place is old and out of date. Freaky coincidences aside, I wasn't in the mood to get a scare or spook from this place tonight, I just wasn't.

Hesitantly, I began to walk inside. There were no lights on. In fact, I didn't think there was any power either. The air in the room was frigid, obviously because of the broken windows that let in a draft. It was colder in here than it was out there. My feet seemed to sting with every cautious, creeping step I took. I looked around the room, hoping to see someone, or something, anyway, just to let me know I'd be clear to go and not feel guilty if Brian was here…somewhere. Why would he stay in this place for I wonder?

"Hello? Brian? Is anyone here?"

I noticed that the room was indeed furnished, but it wasn't anything of this century. Yellow, striped couches rested drearily against the wall with old tables accompanying them, and chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. There couldn't possibly be any way Brian was staying here, unless he was lying about his income because he thought that I might have pitied him or broke up with him, which that wouldn't be the case at all…

Creak.

I jumped and gasped as my posture froze into place. That was an undeniable footstep. Please, oh, please let it be Brian…

"Elliot,"

Thank God.

Somewhat relieved (somewhat?), I turned around to face him. The moon shone upon him, only being able to see his silhouette, I replied, "Brian! You had me worried and terrified for a second there! I thought that you gave me the wrong address and—"

"Terrified? What for," he started chuckling, "don't you trust me?" he asked me in a tone of amusement and sarcasm.

"NOT of you, of course! But uh…yeah, Brian…why didn't you tell me that you were…poor? I mean, I would have understood," I choked out questionably as I looked around the room and straight back at him.

"I'm not, actually," he started, "I'm quite wealthy, to tell the truth." His voice seemed mocking which worried me a little bit.

I began warily, "What do you mean?"

"I don't live here. As a matter of fact, I don't even live anywhere in or around this area," he spoke jovially.

"I don't get it, then why—"

"You really haven't figured it out yet?" he said as his tone dropped to a more casual falsetto.

Suddenly, everything inside of my body burnt as the intense heat went to my head and my heart skipped a beat. "What…?"

He stepped aside from the moonlight jaggedly, and every fiber of my being began to tremble at what was not Brian Summers. His hair was the same color blonde as mine, as were his eyes. Brian had black hair and green eyes! But…they have the same voice, or at least, I thought they did…

"Who are you? You're not Brian," I questioned sneeringly. Oh God, what have I gotten myself into now?

"Actually, I am. I'm Brian Summers. I'm also Ian McCormick, Scott Tisdale, Jason Parsons, and Randy Toler," he grinned in a friendly way that was almost sinister. "As for my real name," he began, but suddenly paused as his hand slipped behind his back.

Click.

The door…he locked it. "My real name you already know," he smirked wistfully as he stayed in the same, good-humored tone of voice.

I glanced at him in almost disgust as I pondered about what he meant by that. "W-what do you mean?" I choked out fearfully as I slowly began to back up, because unless he was Charles Manson's son, I didn't know who the frick he was.

He smiled at me, but this time his facial structure crafted itself into a domineering, evil form. "Oh, you don't know? Well, I'll give you a hint," he started, his eyes glinting at me as he began approaching me gradually, "this used to be my home until a mad woman wrecked it with all the crazy she held inside of her for so long. I overheard yours and Mr. Anson's little conversation, by the way," he stated intensely as his expression changed from happy-go-lucky to I'm-gonna-kick-your-ass-bitch.

I gasped as I suddenly and undeniably realized who he was. "Michael Kessler…" No! He…he's the serial killer!

"And you should've taken his advice and left while you had the chance, pretty girl," he mocked merrily as he suddenly darted towards me.

I promptly reacted by ducking and rolling to my left near a china cabinet, but he immediately kicked me in the stomach and rolled me over on the floor, quickly lifting me up with his strong, calloused hands as I struggled to scream. "You're not going anywhere, Blondie," he warned scathingly as he threw me against the wall with a thud.

Coughing, I struggled to sit upright while clenching my stomach and caressing my neck that was in searing pain. I then realized that I was lying in broken glass as I struggled moving around when it cut me. "Why are you doing this? Neither I nor any of those other girls you killed did anything to you! You can't blame what your mom did on everyone else…," I strained saying, my voice brittle and very weak because of the strangulation.

He glared and smiled at me callously as he nodded, "No, I don't think you quite understand my dilemma, Elliot. You see, ever since my mother's outrage, her family and friends, mostly women, blamed it entirely on me because I was the youngest. It drove me mad. Then one day after being released from the psych ward, I ran into my 39-year-old aunt who threatened me when I was only fifteen and killed her, throwing her body into the beach near my apartment. I got away with it because they were never able to find her body or a suspect. From then on, I decided to just kill all the women in her family and all female friends, seeing as though they anger me the most. I only kill when I happen upon one of them and then I target them, and on normal time I'm the Michael Kessler you see before you," he paused and smirked, "and I've gotten away with it each time," he ended gravely as he never once took his glare from mine.

"You see, Elliot, I've known you for quite a few years now. I was once a patient at your hospital, by a name I didn't care to mention earlier. Christopher Hadley, I believe it was," he remarked as he flicked his nose, which got me to thinking of…

"You're that patient that refused treatment when you fell off that bridge?" I asked him inquiringly in almost a whisper. I can't believe it, I knew the guy beforehand?

He nodded, smiling while softly speaking, "You bet'cha."

I gazed at him in disdain and fear, uttering, "You refused care because you weren't who you said you were, am I right?" I stated solemnly. Why didn't I listen to Dr. Cox? He was only trying to warn me…

His grin widened as he spoke, "Obviously. At the time, I wasn't staying around this area, but I was passing by, still in disguise might I add, when I stumbled over that bridge into traffic because I'd dodged a car that almost ran into me," he stated indifferently and sarcastically.

"Boy, I wish it would have…," I whispered lightly in scorn.

"I overheard several conversations with your friends while visiting and when I discovered who you mother was, I was almost ecstatic," he stated casually as he began laughing. "Your mother's mother was a close friend to mine, but because of distance, I didn't bother going after her so quickly. Besides, what would be better than to see a mother's grief over her murdered child anyway? I'd say it was nearly three years ago at best this all occurred. I was going to approach you one day as Ian, but I realized you were staying with a friend, so I couldn't move in on my target. I marked you down on my list and left for Washington, but I came back three years later to see how my prey was doing. It turns out in the coffee shop you were also single and living alone, and I knew it was the perfect opportunity to move in on you," he gloated in almost a devilishly overbearing sense.

Pretty girl is suffering while he confesses everything…

I suddenly loosened my posture and fell back into the wall in shock. "You…you were targeting me for three years?" I asked limply. I couldn't believe it. I had a crazy person wanting me dead for three years? I was just barely a Resident then…

"Yep, how does that make you feel?" he chuckled jubilantly.

My grandmother…yes, of course! The Kessler murder…it's all coming back to me. I was so little then when I was first told. But why would anyone murder families and friends just because one person's chemicals weren't balanced right in their brain and caused all of that? It made absolutely no sense! Snapping out of my thoughts, I looked at him in despair as I realized something. "Wait…does that mean that there was more than twelve?" I mumbled quietly as I brushed shards of glass off my clothes nervously.

"In your area there were twelve…so far, anyway. You'll have made thirteen—lucky number thirteen. In total, I may have murdered about…70 women? I lost track somewhere down the road," he said heartlessly.

"You evil man—how could you do something that despicable and not even care?"

"After a couple of slayings you get used to it," he gloated cynically. "I wanted to erase all traces of her existence in her female friends and one day, male if I ever get around to it. The women are my main concern at the moment," he snarled as he clenched his fists together, causing me to react and press my back firmly against the wall.

"So you've basically changed your identity each time you murdered and got rid of the evidence and started over? You're basically getting revenge for what your mom did to you, and just because I'm related to someone you can't kill you target me instead, and should I mention the others? That makes absolutely no sense! You're insane if you think you can get away with this!" I shouted in anger as I clenched my own fists.

He growled, furrowing his brow while he began pulling out something from the back side of his jean pocket—a knife. I winced as I realized I had to run. I didn't have time to think, so I raised myself up and ran towards the window with a little burgundy chair next to it and grabbed it as he followed behind. I tried to pick it up to bust him over the head with it, but I was too slow. The knife lunged towards my stomach and penetrated me as I gasped in a weak scream that wasn't loud enough to hear from the outdoors and dropped the chair. Before I fell to the ground, I used up what strength I had left in me and kicked him in the crotch, causing him to drop the knife that I then grabbed as he bellowed out in pain. I clenched my stomach in agony as I took the chair with the knife hand and threw it out the window, causing the glass to shatter into millions of little pieces. Immediately, I made my descent out the window all the while avoiding cutting myself, although that didn't seem too realistic in the first place.

I ran as fast I could run as I began gliding down the steps and on the rail, and I could hear him cursing as glass was being broken. I had to get away as fast as I could, and I couldn't even stop to get help. I glided down the stairs painfully and wobbled left and right as the turns seemed to curse my bleeding wound to the point it'd be so painful to move that I felt as though I needed to sit down. I ignored the sweltering pain and jumped down almost a story from the ground when I heard him running down the stairs. When landing, I was somehow able to avoid twisting or breaking my ankles or legs and began running from him. I stumbled several times as I made my way past dumpsters and cars in the alley, trying to make my path into main roads where crowds of people ought to have been. I could hear him not so far behind me as I panted and huffed, making my way towards the end of the alleyway.

It was expected but not at all wanted, because all of a sudden, I was unable to keep going any further and I fell down onto the concrete like a ton of bricks—my body had given out on me.

Every part of my body was sore, I was losing massive amounts of blood, and my breathing was becoming shorter. I had given up all hope. I laid there and tried to hold the blood off with my arms, but I knew that was no use unless I got medical attention immediately.

I heard him coming ever so closely towards me, and I closed my eyes and began to pray for a miracle. All I could hear was the footsteps getting closer, the wind, and a car engine…?

Suddenly, I opened my eyes to look out towards the opening of the main road. There, a red sports car was parked and a man got out of it with a look of distraught upon his face.

"Dr. Cox…?"

When I pulled up to Barbie's apartment with Jordan, I saw Newbie running down the sidewalk, approaching us quickly. Jordan got out of the car and ran around the rear and then approached my window where she met up with him.

"Good DJ, you're here. Go in and I'll be there in a second," she dictated idly as she looked at me regretfully. When she knew Janet was inside the apartment, she finally said to me, "Be careful, Perry. Don't do anything stupid, alright?"

I smiled at her, almost chuckling. "Aren't I already doing something stupid?"

Jordan nodded and leaned in to kiss me for what I hope wasn't the last time. "Please come back, you moron." Her eyes watered but she somehow managed to hold it all in. I didn't really let the fact that I may actually die sink in yet because I needed to be strong for Jordan...and for Barbie. I knew that I was the only one able to save her, even if Gandhi and Carla were to find her, what could they have done? They didn't have any weapons, and even if they did find her, how much time did we really have? What if he spotted them? Scalpel Jockey would undoubtedly protect Carla first and foremost, and I certainly wouldn't want to put her in thatkind of danger. Somehow, I just knew that they wouldn't be anywhere near that park and that's why I sent them there, so I could have the remainder of the city for myself to search over.

"Wish me luck," I mumbled as I began to pull away. From the rear view mirror, I could see Jordan standing there in almost a lifeless daze as she watched me ride off, staring at me for what may have been the last time she'd ever see me alive. I didn't want it to be that way. I just didn't, but I knew that either way I was going to come face to face with that bastard and I knew that someone was going down. Above all else, I wanted to save Barbie, even if it would cost me my life. I didn't mind killing in situations like these. I couldn't just let her die, not while I knew what I felt and may have subconsciously known from the beginning of all this. I justcouldn't let anything happen to her, not while I could have kept this from happening. If I had only intervened when she came into work with that bruise earlier…

As I drove around any and all barren areas and low-grade communities, I started thinking about why I didn't take any of those warning signs seriously and just ignored them like I did. Could it really have been because I didn't want to show that I actually cared? Am I that much of a prick? Sure, I'm not the first guy you'd go to for emotional advice, or any sort of advice really, because I'm just not that go-to guy. I should have just acknowledged sooner what was wrong, and when she came to the hospital with that bruise, I should have tried to end that relationship right then and there.

I reached for a box up under my seat while keeping my speed steady. I pulled it out onto my lap and took the lid off of it. "I never thought I'd ever have to use this puppy," I said lowly to myself. It already had bullets in it and was ready for use. I took the gun holder out as I placed the box back under the seat and put it on safety, strapping it on the side of my jeans.

Suddenly I was jerked from my thoughts when my cell phone rang—it was Jordan. "Hello?"

"We can't find anything, we've searched the place inside out and we still can't find an address."

"That's no surprise…but Jordan, tell Newbie what I had said earlier and get the hell out of there, the police should be on their way and I want you to go to your mom's, and I want you to pick Jack straight up from daycare, you got that? I—"

Suddenly I had another call coming in. "Carla's calling, so I need to go—"

"I love you, Perry," she said as her words slightly broke, keeping a steady tone.

Her words seemed to bite into me, but in a good way that had left me off guard for a moment. "Love you, too." I meant it, too. If I was to make it out of this alive, I'm sure as hell going to start working on trying to be a more perfect father and ex-husband…okay; maybe I was going to die after all.

I answered the beep. "Find anything?" I asked impatiently.

"Not yet, we've circled around the park and couldn't find anything, and we've asked people if they've seen her but we've got nada. I take it that you haven't found anything yet since you asked me."

"As much as I hate to admit it, but yeah, I have a better chance at this point of finding Bin Laden in a garbage can somewhere than finding Barbie because I have absolutely nothing to go on in a city this big. She could be anywhere."

"Don't beat yourself up over this; nobody could have known he was the killer. Just because you had rational, instinctive paternal feelings towards the guy with Elliot didn't mean that feeling was telling you he was some sort of murderer. It's not your fault and it's not anybody else's fault either," she assured, trying her best to comfort me with her soft, motherly hen voice that did somewhat heal me emotionally, "and I'm sure that wherever Elliot may be, she's smart enough to run away from this dangerous situation anyhow…," her voice trailed off contritely.

I knew that our hope of finding her was fading by each passing moment—our voices and outlooks reflected that. "The only chance we have now is if some greater force, or hell, God, was to intervene, and what are the odds of that happening, really?" I said spitefully. I was so pissed at the big man right now that I could move a mountain with all this anger.

"Don't give up on miracle happening, Turk isn't," she said softly, "we'll find her somehow. I just know we will."

"Carla, miracles don't happen," I said bitterly as my grip tightened on both the wheel and the phone.

"I know you're upset, but—"

"Carla, get the police over to Madison and Fifth—now."

I hung up the phone immediately, but not at what she was about to say. It was more or less what, no, who I saw in front of me not even 500 feet off in the distance as I braked and began panicking.

Elliot.

"ELLIOT!" Dr. Cox screamed in panic and fright as I watched him run towards me. He saw Michael behind me.

Did he say my name? "Dr. Cox!" I yelped out weakly. Dr. Cox stopped almost fifteen feet from me when I heard a click from directly above me. I was too afraid to look up, so I just kept my eyes on Dr. Cox.

I couldn't believe it though, Dr. Cox of all people? Maybe it isn't so strange he showed up, but with the way he was acting towards my previous relationship with 'Brian', I just thought…

Did he really care that much about me?

And that's when I saw the gun strapped next to him.

I already knew when I heard that click that Michael had a gun on him, but thankfully Dr. Cox did too…yet, at the same time, I wasn't so happy about it. I just couldn't see Dr. Cox hurting anyone that way…

"You're too late," Michael avowed in grandeur.

Dr. Cox saw my injury and he gasped, "You bastard, I'll kill you," he uttered out in rage.

Michael smirked and chuckled, and I gathered up the courage to look at him—he was aiming the gun towards my head. "Never thought we'd meet again, certainly not like this—I wasn't anticipating any company," he declared surprisingly in a bright tone. Suddenly though, his tone went down a notch, "I really didn't want to get you involved. I really liked you at that bar, seeing as though we both shared the same hate against young Elliot here. It's actually surprising that you're here, really."

Dr. Cox grimaced and growled, "I don't fucking hate her, you bastard! Don't you dare act like you know me!" He took the gun from his side and immediately aimed it towards him. "You're number's up, ya prick! The police are on their way and you aren't going anywhere," he shouted, his eyes never once leaving mine. I knew he took the fact that he was aiming a gun at my head into consideration, so I assumed he had a plan. I could only hope…

"Do you honestly think you can pull a trigger faster than I can? I'm almost certain you've never did anything like this before, and surely not nearly as much as I have," he blustered out in rage. Suddenly, that friendly demeanor had vanished. Things were now getting desperate.

"Oh, I know you can pull a trigger faster than I could, I'm no moron. The thing is—you're not killing the girl. Not over my dead body," he dared him, whose gaze was now meeting his.

No, he can't do that—! "Dr. Cox! You better not be asking him to shoot you instead! Get out of here! It's too late for me, just go, please!" I pleaded feebly, but I knew it'd be in vain. He'd…he'd die for me? No, Elliot, don't cry…please, don't cry…

"I'm not going anywhere," he said gravely as he held out the gun motionlessly, starring him unflinchingly in the eye.

"Dr. Cox…please! He'll kill you! I'm going to die anyway, just go!" Why is he doing this? I didn't want him to die over me! Why won't he just GO! I've already lost too much blood and I'm getting lightheaded…!

He ignored my plea, of course. "So, what's your story, pal? 'Cause you've honestly got something wrong with you when you target innocent women who didn't do a damned thing to you," he asked curiously, his voice still remaining in a somber tone as he continued to meet Michael's sinister gaze. He's stalling for time, is that it? Obviously, Michael hasn't caught on…

"Since I'll have to kill you anyways, I suppose I can fill you in," he started, never once letting his guard down, "the name's Michael Kessler, son of Deana Kessler who murdered her family, I escaped obviously. Ever since, my goal was to erase any and all traces of her family and friends for good starting with the women. I've gotten away with at least 70 slayings and 'disappearances.' For this area, Elliot here will be lucky number thirteen…,"

"What the hell does that have anything to do with Elliot?" he asked irritably. Did he just say my name…again? He's never once called me by my actual name…

"Simple, really—she's in relations to my mother, well, her grandmother anyway. She's long been dead, so when I first learned of her mother, it was almost around the same time I met Elliot, about three years back at Sacred Heart, actually," he stated.

"Wait, what do you mean? You've been inside of the hospital and have known her for three years!" Dr. Cox hissed crossly, just as confused as I was.

"Yes. I've targeted her that long, too. Since her mother lives so far away, I just decided that I would cause her deeper pain until I was able to reach her by murdering her sweet, precious daughter while I had the opportunity," he reveled.

"You're one fucked up individual, that's for damn sure," Dr. Cox scowled.

"On the contrary!" he chuckled. "Nevertheless," he pressed the gun up against my head as I yelped slightly, "I need to end this before someone sees us here, and I can't be spoiled over you or anyone else, can I?"

Michael smiled devilishly as he looked at me and then back at Dr. Cox. "I think I know who I'm going to finish off first," he declared as he pointed the gun back towards Dr. Cox, and every part of me died inside as I watched helplessly, not being able to do anything to stop him from pulling that trigger.

And the man with the golden gun thinks he knows so much

Thinks he knows so much...

"It's best if she lives with this image in her last moments as her mentor is murdered in front of her very eyes," he cackled cynically.

As I watched while slowly losing consciousness, I saw that Dr. Cox's expression remained frozen as was, but he looked at me. His eyes were almost completely cloudy and…was that tears I saw forming? They weren't for himself, either…they were for me. For me, the Barbie doll from Connecticut…a colleague of his for five years...not a protégé like JD…but maybe…his precious Barbie doll that he was losing? Suddenly, the image of him punching Kelso in the face for me was stuck on repeat and wouldn't stop. At the time, I didn't take it into consideration that it may have been more than a friendly gesture, but now…now that we were both facing our demise, it suddenly became clear. In his own weird and Coxian way, he was trying to show me he cared and that he looked out for me like his own daughter. Like I was his little girl he needed to protect, to die for, like now…and I couldn't lose him.

I couldn't do anything but lay and watch him be murdered in front of me for my stupid mistakes he was only trying to warn me about! And now, his blood was going to be shared on my hands…why couldn't I have just listened to him and JD? Why? I should have known if Dr. Cox was going out of his typical mannerisms that it must have been something significant he was trying to show and warn me of, but no, I didn't listen like the foolish girl I was and ignored him as always. And now, he was going to die for that stupidity…the very thing he tried so desperately to stay clear of from me, and he just threw himself in like that, even though he should have known there was no hope of rescuing me, unless he…no…he couldn't have thought…thought that him dying for me would…

"I'm sorry Elliot that I couldn't save you…but damn it all if I don't give it one last shot…," he mumbled in remorse, my eyes beginning to widen as he flexed his arm out further towards Michael, at a clear attempt of killing him before he did as tears ran down his face.

All of a sudden, unconsciousness was gripping me stronger than ever, and with the remaining strength I struggled holding on to, the last thing I would try to see was his regret and the gun, and then…the synchronized gunshots.

Somehow I know that we can't wake again from this dream,

It's not real, but it's ours…

Maybe tonight we'll fly so far away,

We'll be lost before the dawn.

Author's Note: So, should I just go ahead and kill myself now or wait for you all to do that? Now, I'm going to be clear when saying that when I meant God-awful cliffhanger, I meant GOD-AWFUL CLIFFHANGER. I'm SORRY! O.o; Hell, I doubt that Cliff from Between the Lions could hold onto this one…cereal…

I'm so SORRY that this took so long! Really, I've been in such a rush to get this finish I shirked reading the latest chapter of Bells' My Captain just to get this chapter out of the freaking way…RLY! So, you all should know that there is one last chapter left and the next chapter will be…well, a lot easier to write than this one has been. This chapter, I have to say, has been the most difficult thing for me by far, and I feel I still didn't get that intense emotion I wanted up until the very end like the last chapter…blegh. Practice makes perfect, you know, but I'm far from that obviously!

The only thing I'm telling you about the next chapter that it will explore deep inside of Elliot's mind (beware, I'll probably screw it all up because her brain is like a rubics cube…or whatever…) and that's all I'm saying. My intention for this chapter was to finally piece together for the two of them their feelings for one another that are on a father/daughter level that I've felt hasn't surfaced nearly enough on Scrubs to the point it almost doesn't exist. I know it's there, especially after that episode where Perry punches the lights out of Kelso…I was trying to establish something that has been bugging me for some time. I'm not even particularly fanatic over Elliot…I don't love or hate her; I just like her more than average. xD I'm not sure, it's just one of those miniscule things that bother me.

Anyways, forgive me for the long notes, but I hope you weren't disappointed because of the wait and that it was worth it…*sighs*. The next chapter won't take me nearly as long…well, that is, if I don't hit up my doctor's again. :P I'm going to rest for tonight…I have homework but of course I forgot it…oh well, I phail in Biology anyway. :P Goodnight y'all. 3

PS - I know I said I was using Pretty Girl as the lyrical ambiance for the story, but this chapter had two things that screamed out to me whilst listening to these songs on the vocational bus, the first being Cornflake Girl by Tori Amos and the second and last being Before the Dawn by Evanescence. Just thought you'd wanna know what went through my head and the mood of this chapter. ;]