December 5th - 2am

She lay there, dreaming of blood and bullets and pain, of poison and evil and fear. There was no light in her dreams, no help, no rescue and no salvation, never salvation. Only the dark and the way down. A shot! Pain, blood, darkness.

Nicki Reagan screamed, throwing off her blankets and stumbling into the bathroom. Her face looked ghostly in the harsh light, white and bone-tired. She hadn't been sleeping well, had been haunted by the images that were burned into her mind. Combined with the constant reminders of their family's unfolding tragedy, it made a hellish cocktail Nicki wanted to throw up. Sometimes she even thought about doing it, ending it all or running away without looking back.

"Can't. Won't. Not ever", she told the scared little girl in the mirror that was not the independent teenager she'd known as herself for so long. Nonetheless, even that shadow of a person was not ready to let go, rather opting for the other choice.

Nicki swallowed the nervousness in her throat and stepped back out of the room. They were currently all living at Reagan Manor, not wanting to miss any news from Mexico. Ever since Grandpa had made his arcane phone call to god-knows-who, nothing had happened. Jackie had been over yesterday, but they'd had nothing to talk about so the visit had been brief. Nicki simply couldn't take the silence anymore, this not-knowing, not-acting was driving her crazy.

"I won't be a victim", she whispered into the darkness, repeating a line she'd read online. Don't be a victim. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. Nicki needed to be prepared or else she wouldn't be able to catch any of her much-needed sleep.

That's why she slowly and quietly crept through the hallway, avoiding the creaky floor boards. She heard Henry snoring in the guest room long before she saw him through the slit in the slightly ajar door. Now or never, she thought, gathering the rest of her fragile bravery.

Her feet were light enough not to disturb her great-grandpa and neither did her other movements close to his head as she opened his drawer and snatched something in the compartment for socks. It was cold and felt just the right kind of wrong. Henry stirred for a moment, turned around and stuck out his skinny leg. Flooded with guilt, Nicki hesitated, only to be attacked by another series of images. Darkness. Evil. Blood. Pain.

"No", she breathed, gripping her prize harder. As quietly as she had arrived, she exited, closing the door behind her. Maybe Henry would wonder in the morning, but Nicki doubted he would check his hiding places. Suspecting thievery was not in his sweet-tempered nature.

Her breath formed little white clouds when Nicki stepped outside, pulling her woolen Jacket close to her body. Boots and coat had to stay inside, she had to feel the icy ground beneath her feet, had to know this was reality.

Suddenly Nicki wished she would smoke. People always seemed to be relaxed when they did it, some of the older kids at school even boasted that it made them think clearer. Nicki had always held such claims in contempt, thinking that smoking made you an addict and smelled awful. Solemnly, she pulled out an imaginary cigarette, lighted it and held it between two fingers, inhaling deeply. People were right, it was relaxing. Coldness and wetness slipped around her toes when she didn't move in the backyard for a while while she enjoyed the nonexistent cigarette.

"Done. Gotta toss it", she murmured, throwing out her arm and stomping down with her foot. It helped to calm her, to prepare her for what had to happen next. With one last glance behind towards the silent house, Nicki made her way over to the castle in Mrs. Maple's garden. Four huge, ancient spruces were rustling their leaves, almost looking like giants ready to conquer the world.

"Or like Harold Wyrdmann. Like him", Nicki said. She saw him standing there with his bloody knives, his greasy hair and that evil smile around his lips. He would be so overconfident if he saw me, she thought, he'd never know what hit him. I'm a Reagan and I won't be scared.

Nevertheless she was shaking when she took out Henry's weapon from her pocket, taking the stance of the police officer's on TV: wide spread feet, fully straightened arms, both hands firmly on the gun itself. Jamie had always told her that one had to be ready for the recoil or else the shot would miss, so Nicki took her time, imagining the trajectory of the bullet precisely. Harold Wyrdmann would not believe his eyes when she pulled a gun on him. Maybe then he would be the one to be afraid.

"I hate you", she told him quietly. Her shoulders were already burning from the unusual strain of holding the weapon all the time. How much time had passed? Nicki didn't know and didn't care, she had to do this however long it would take her. Kill your demons.

"You don't scare me. You don't, don't, don't scare me." Lies, she knew it. But this time she felt more in control, the metal giving her the power to face him. Now!

"Go away!", she screamed and triggered the gun. Jamie was right, the force of the gun knocked her back, even though it was such a small object. And the noise! Why was it so loud? She'd flinched and missed the tree, missed Harold Wyrdmann. She would not miss next time.

Determinedly, Nicki faced the wood again, biting down on her lips so they would stop quivering. Kill him, make him go away! Just make it stop! Again she positioned himself and took the shot, keeping her eyes open forcefully.

Bang! The wood splintered, a hit! But Harold Wyrdmann was still laughing, why wouldn't he die? Why wouldn't his face leave her dreams alone? She needed space, needed sleep, needed safety, needed him gone.

Again and again she shot him, hitting his chest and his head until an empty clicking sound was all that could be heard in the darkness of the backyard. Out of bullets, she recognized and wished she'd remembered to take extra ammo from her grandpa's closet.

"Leave me alone", she said, big hot tears streaming down her face. The tree was damaged, but not as damaged as she felt. It didn't help at all, Harold Wyrdmann just wouldn't die. Can't shoot a demon. Nicki felt herself collapse and welcomed the ground when it touched her face. Hugging herself tightly and breathing into the grass beneath her, she finally found some degree of peace, the gun with its hot tip pressed against her shuddering chest.

"Nicki!" Somebody screamed in the distance, probably her mother. Nicki didn't react at all, not wanting to loose the silence and the darkness that had become friends for a moment. Would they turn into enemies again as soon as she would get up?

"Stay away, stay away, stay", she murmured. Suddenly warm fingers touched her cheek, making Nicki flinch. He'd gotten to her!

"No, stay away, stay away!", she screamed, but the hands mercilessly pulled her arms away from her face. They stretched her form until she was lying on her back, arms above her head and legs flat on the ground.

"Thank God, she's not hurt", a deep male voice said. Frank? What was Frank doing here? Could he save her from Harold? Her grandfather would never let anything bad happen to her. But it had happened, happened to Jamie first and might happen to her next. What was safety if the family couldn't provide it for you?

Nicki sobbed, momentarily torn between dreaming and waking, not letting go of the gun as if it was her anchor to reality. Bit by bit, she pulled herself from the darkness, blood and evil back into the cold December night, feeling the grass and the wetness on her skin. It had begun to snow.

"Nicki?", her mother asked, concern making her voice sound higher than usual. Erin's worries made Nicki's guilty conscience even worse, she knew that her actions had been unforgivably stupid. It had helped, though. A little. Maybe she couldn't kill the nightmares, but a human being would have been dead ten times over by the time the clip of the gun had been empty. Right? Right? Yes.

"I'm fine", she said, taking a deep breath and opening her eyes to stare at the tiny white stars raining down on her. It was beautiful, it made her feel a freedom she had missed far too long. You can't hurt me. I have a gun.

"I needed to get rid of my nightmares", she stated, facing the adults. Linda and the boys were awake, too, she assumed, but Jack and Sean were too young to listen to this conversation. Carefully Nicki read the faces around her. Henry was obviously ashamed since he'd noticed the gun in her hands was his, her mother seemed as furious as always and Frank, Frank was thoughtful. At least only one of them was going to yell at her.

"And you thought stealing a gun was the right way to do that? You could have hurt someone, Nicki! You could have killed someone!" As expected, Erin's voice was loud and slightly panicky. Her daughter nodded earnestly.

"I know. That was the intention."

"What?", Henry repeated numbly, "You wanted to kill yourself?"

"No! I wanted to kill Harold Wyrdmann. Or at least I wanted to know what it felt like in case he ever showed up. I needed this. I won't be a victim."

"A victim." That was her mom, completely dumbfounded. Nicki saw understanding only in the eyes of her grandfather, who was silent for a moment before he clapped his hands.

"Of course you have the need to feel safe, which may not be as easily fulfilled as it had been after all this family has been through. But you can't endanger yourself or the public, Nicki. So next time we do this right", he said, using his Commissioner's voice and leaving no room for discussion. Nicki nodded gratefully and let go of the gun, thinking that Jamie would have been proud if he'd have seen her shoot and miss only once.

"Don't let go of the gun!", Jamie yelled just in time to prevent disaster. He'd woken up again and was scrambling out of a window in the Herrera mansion in Mexico. Danny's eyes widened when he realized what was happening - his movements to reach the roof of the mansion had pushed the gun out of the waistband of his trousers. That's why the criminals always loose in the movies, Jamie thought and stretched to catch the falling device, relieved when Danny got it. He wasn't sure his reflexes were anywhere near their normal speed. In fact, he wasn't up to par in general. Blacking out in the middle of the drama had been embarrassing enough, but not being able to keep up and thereby further endangering his brother's life was even worse.

"You should hurry, I'll catch up", he said, repeating himself and pulling his long legs onto the rough ledge Danny was already crouching on. Beneath him, the door bust open and men spilled into the lounge the Reagan brother's had taken refuge in when all hell had broken loose. Either Walter or Fire - who was, according to Danny, called Arabella - must have alerted the rest of the family.

"Damn, they're fast", Jamie said, gasping for breath. His limbs were shaking from erxertion already, but he would not be the reason his brother died, so he made himself go on. Grabbing the edge of the roof and jumping for all he was worth, only to feel his muscles betray him. He'd fall.

"Danny!"

"Gotcha, kid", his brother replied, lifting him as if he was just a child. That's what Jamie felt like, most of the time. Even now, on the run from the freaking mob, he felt his brother's condescending stare bore into him. I know, he wanted to shout, but it's not my fault I got poisoned! Neither of them were responsible for the mess they were in.

"You alright?", Danny asked, looking him over. Jamie grimaced, knowing his brother saw a weak wreck of a man, pale to greenish in color, sweaty, tired and shaking. The least he could do was not whine about his condition, so Jamie got to his feet and stumbled in the direction of the helipad, which was on the right side of the roof, set a little higher than the rest. Thankfully there were stairs leading to it and a machine waiting for them. Jamie had to give Danny credit, his escape plan was a good one. Once they were in the air, following them with cars would never work and hopefully there would be enough gas to reach the next embassy.

"Oh, fuck", Danny exclaimed, having already reached the airfield. As soon as Jamie had made his considerably slower ascend, he saw what was wrong. Another machine, its rotors still moving, which meant...

"Hands behind your head, Jimmy."

"Jamie", he corrected automatically, turning around to see three figures emerge from the second helicopter. His brother murmured something that sounded a lot like "How much bad luck can one person have?" and Jamie could only agree.

"Bianca?"

"Nice to meet you again", she replied, balling her fist and striking him directly on the nose. Pain shot through him and he fell on his ass, reminded again that he was wearing next to nothing. Jamie blushed, which earned him a chuckle from the woman and a disbelieving stare from his brother, whose hands were also extended in the air.

"Seriously?"

"Shut up, Danny."

"Yeah, shut your hole, Reagan", Bianca agreed, probably meaning both of them. She seemed taller and older somehow with that self-satisfied smile on her face, Jamie thought. Still a stunning beauty, though.

"Jimmy Reardon. Jamie Reagan. Whatever. You know, I didn't even believe the rumors at first, trusted you all the way. Good work, cop, getting my brain all screwed up. And what you did to Noble, not even speaking of the rest of the Sanfino's... boy, I'd been hiding the rest of my life, so imagine my surprise when my contact told me you were actually with the Herreras right now."

"Bianca..."

"Shut up and listen, Jamie!" His name sounded worse than a curse the way she pronounced it and he flinched, wondering when Danny was going to make his move. Now or after Bianca was through with him? He was so concentrated on his line of thought that he nearly missed his cue. Only when Danny's hand whipped around to take hold of their gun, Jamie understood and tackled Bianca unceremoniously to the ground.

"Come on!", his brother shouted, already looking for an exit after having taken care of the two very surprised bodyguards. As quickly as he could, Jamie scrambled to his feet and followed Danny back down the stairs, stopping once to collect the guns. His throat was dry and he felt like throwing up, having seen all that sudden death. Two corpses on the roof, only Bianca alive... Jamie stumbled, falling to his knees and taking Danny with him.

"What the hell, kid?"

"Sorry. Danny..."

"What?!" There was no way the inhabitants of the mansion would not have blocked the stairs by now, so heading the direction his brother was going made no sense at all. Even Danny had to admit that, but they were out of options. Jumping down the roof would have been suicide, but where else to go?

"Back to plan A?", Jamie suggested, leaning against the stairs to the airfield, not having followed his brother across the flat roof. His breathing was ragged, his temperature a lot higher than normal and he was still shivering, meaning the fever was probably still on the rise. They had to make their escape now.

"Can't. I hit the fuel tank", Danny explained with a pained expression, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. Jamie couldn't really blame him for saving both their asses up there, but his anger boiled up anyways. The only route out, the only road to freedom - lost because the great Detective Reagan had missed his target.

"You managed to destroy both fuel tanks?"

"I think so. Wanna go and check?"

"No." Of course there was no time to examine the aircrafts and they both knew it. Instead they headed for a low building on the roof, which turned out to be a small storage space for outdated equipment.

"There is no way off this damn roof", Danny huffed, turning around to his little brother with both annoyance and barely contained desperation. Jamie could see it all play out, his brother playing the hero and confronting the enemy on their way up the stairs. Him dying in a haze of bullets, Jamie being taken prisoner again and being send back to Wyrdmann.

"We can't go back towards the stairs", he said and turned around when the first figure appeared in the doorway on the other side of the roof as if to make his point for him.

"Get in here", Danny urged, stepping into the storage room. The brothers shared a dark look, then barred the door and the single window beneath the ceiling. Luckily the walls were thick concrete, as stable as the iron door. They even had electricity in form of a small flickering light bulb. Compared to his former cell, this was almost cozy, Jamie thought sarcastically.

And he had company, although he wasn't sure whether to happy about that right now. Danny seemed to be pissed.

"What now?", Jamie asked carefully, pacing the room while his brother opted for a seat on the dusty floor. For a moment he was met with silence, then Danny shrugged.

"We wait, I guess. See how much they want to get in here."

"And if they're not in a hurry?"

"Then we stay here for a while." Neither of them cared to admit that there was nothing they could wait for. Nobody knew about their rather tight predicament, meaning sooner or later they would have to surrender. Jamie swallowed, crossed his arms in front of his chest and continued to walk through the room. Eight steps, turn, eight steps, turn. It felt good to be able to move, almost like they had a chance to escape. And although his legs were tiring, he couldn't stop. In his mind, he was running.

"Doesn't look like they'll bust down the door", Danny commented about fifteen minutes later. At least Jamie estimated it to be that long since he didn't have a watch and didn't want to ask his brother.

"You should sleep, kid. I'll take first watch."

"No." Jamie couldn't sit down, didn't want to settle against the cold stone and fall asleep.

"Okay, if you insist. Wake me in a few hours", Danny replied exasperatedly and closed his eyes. Jamie nodded, staying silent and keeping up his march.

A/N: Well, that was fun! Including Bianca has been a request from masongirl1337. Did you like it?

If any of you have other ideas, comments or criticism, shoot me a message or leave a review! Seriously, I'd love that! :)