Author's note: Finally, the next chapter's up. This chapter's more about Athrun because I wanted to add a little more depth to his character, and it's a break from Kira. One of the longest chapters though. Read on and I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 20:

"Before I start, anything you want to say, Detective Zala?" Assistant Commissioner Murrue Ramius tipped the manila file at him, her eyebrows furrowed.

Athrun shook his head. "It's all in the report, Ma'am."

Murrue sighed, leaning back into her chair with the open file on her desk. "Yes, it is," she frowned, "and I have to say that I am not at all thrilled by what I'm reading." She shook her head exasperatedly as she read before glancing up at him, closing the file with a loud snap.

"Dead," she said simply, "you have one officer dead on your watch. And one injured. Explain to me again how that happened."

It was a rhetorical question. All the details about how the operation had been carried out, and how it had eventually screwed up, were in the report and Murrue had read it. The question was one of disbelief and incredulity, and Athrun had no answer to it.

Murrue sighed when there was no reply from her subordinate. She hadn't expected one. "Detective Zala, you should know that this will lead to an official reprimand in your file."

"I understand, Ma'am."

"Okay."

There was an awkward silence as Murrue took the time to examine her agent. Athrun had a stoic expression on his face and he held her gaze steadily, but she could detect the undercurrent of tension and frustration beneath the calm surface. When Athrun Zala had first entered the law enforcement agency, she had seen his stats and was impressed by the fact that he had been the youngest cadet to top his cohort at the academy and that he had a remarkable host of medals and awards under his belt. The fact that he was the adopted son of Siegel Clyne - one of the pioneers of the pharmaceutical industry and one of the richest men on earth – had made him a source of attraction. Murrue had thought that he was just a rich kid.

But the Athrun Zala she met had been modest, intelligent and eager to learn. That was when she had been the chief of the special unit. When she had been promoted to Assistant Commissioner, Athrun had been the one and only successor she had in mind. He had solved many cases with his smart intuition and eye for details. His honourable personality and the absence of any official reprimands in his file were bonus points.

Until now.

But much as she wanted to do something to help, having one dead officer and another injured was the worst thing that could ever happen to the supervisor of any operation.

She pushed down the conflicting emotions in her. "You may go, Detective." She gave Athrun a dismissive nod and watched as the blue-haired officer stood up and headed for the door.

"Athrun."

He paused and turned to look at her, his emerald eyes registering surprise that she would call him by his first name under a situation like that.

"As AC, there's nothing I can do about the official reprimand. But," Murrue let a grim smile cross her lips, "as your friend, I want you to know that this isn't your fault, even though it looks like it is. These people were armed and full of malicious intent. Zachary Jones didn't wait for backup. This isn't your fault and you've gotta remember that."

Athrun nodded, but Murrue saw the hesitation in his eyes. He didn't believe what she was saying. She opened her mouth, about to add on to what she had said, but he interrupted her with a polite "Thanks, Ma'am," before opening the door and disappearing out of sight.

Athrun sank into the chair behind his desk and let his head fall back, his emerald eyes closed.

The day hadn't gone well one bit. All day long, he had been busy. After escaping Murrue's office, he had returned to his own department to find Yzak Joule seething behind his desk, a white bandage still covering his face. The silver-haired officer had been discharged in the morning; but instead of going home, the stubborn idiot had turned up at the office, digging through the reports on his desk feverishly, hoping to find some clues on his attacker. Athrun had had to manhandle him into a car and charge Dearka with the thankless task of sending him home.

He had later called the lab, only to be disappointed by the fact that Miriallia Haw had no further leads on the unknown chemical trace. She needed more time, and time was something Athrun didn't have. He had spent the rest of the day staring at photographs of the crime scene, trying to piece together what had happened, and reading the statements of the guests in the hopes of finding something insightful.

Now that night was approaching and ennui was setting in, he found that there were emotions in him that had been suppressed by the flurry of activities in the day, but were now slowly rising.

The dressing down by Murrue, which wasn't much of a talking-to, had been the last nail in the coffin of his guilt. It wasn't what she had said about the official reprimand or the hint of disappointment he had detected in her voice. It was the last sentence she had said, about it not being his fault. It made him guilty because he knew it wasn't true.

In the nights following the failed operation at the Clyne Mansion, Athrun had revisited the incident numerous times, lying on the couch in his office. What had gone wrong? Plenty, actually, and all of them his fault. The perpetrators had gotten in through the window, which meant that they had been on the grounds. So, why didn't Team #1 and Team #2 pick them up? Because these criminals were experienced, stealthy, focused – they knew what they were going for; but both his teams didn't. His subordinates weren't aware of how many people they were expecting, or how they looked like, or which window they would enter from. And it was his fault for not pre-empting and preparing his teams mentally.

And how did those criminals get up to the second floor? They must have had gadgets with them, like a grappling hook or something. So why didn't Team #1 detect their gadgets when they were conducting physical checks. Athrun had been there, leaning against the door, watching every move but he hadn't detected anything out of the ordinary either. So how did they smuggle their gadgets into the compound? What had he missed out? Why, in the first place, did he miss out anything?

And the laser trigger alarm system. The security cameras. The motion detectors. All immobilized before anyone on his team had realised what was happening. There must've been someone coordinating it. Maybe one of the perpetrators, or maybe someone stationed elsewhere, in a control center of some sort. And the disruption in their line of communication which had prevented them from contacting each other. That's why Zachary didn't get backup, Athrun thought bitterly, not because he didn't wait, but because he couldn't get any. So why the fuck didn't he see it coming? The disruption of the security cameras in the Clyne Mansion should have been a lesson.

Athrun imagined what it was like facing down a group of armed criminals alone, yelling desperately into his microphone for backup but realizing only too late that there would be none coming. How would he feel? Panic and fear definitely. Hopelessness? Perhaps. And a sense of betrayal.

At the police academy, his instructors had drilled into him that fellow officers were family, and family members watched each other's back. He hadn't done that. He hadn't watched Zachary's back. He had let a member of his family get his neck slit. He remembered the feel of Zachary's wife collapsing into his arms when she had received the news and the faces of his children who were so confounded by the turn of events that they didn't cry. They just stared up at him, as if they knew he was the one responsible for the fact that their daddy wasn't coming home.

And they were right, because he was responsible.

"Chief?" A soft, hesitant voice broke him out of his reverie and he raised his head to see Meyrin standing in his doorway. She pointed at the phone on his desk. "You've got a call."

"From?"

"Lacus Clyne."

"About the investigation?"

"No, personal matters."

Athrun straightened in his leather chair and busied himself with opening one of the numerous files on his desk. "Just tell her" he hesitated, feeling guilt and shame mounting in him, "I'm not here… uh… just say I've gone home."

He saw Meyrin wince out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it and pretended to be busy scanning through the document. He didn't know why he was lying and he didn't have the energy to figure it out.

Meyrin returned to her cubicle and he heard her talking on the phone. "Yes, Lacus… sorry, the chief's left the office already… yes, yes, I know. I'm sorry. I just came back from running an errand, so I didn't know that he had already left. I just assumed that he was still around until I looked into his office… no, he's taken his bag, so I don't think he's coming back. Do you want to leave him a message or something… what? But he's not around… no, wait… you're what?"

Athrun heard Meyrin's phone slam back into its cradle and a flustered Meyrin burst into his office again. "Chief, I'm sorry! I told her you were not around but Lacus said-"

"-she would be coming up to see for herself." Lacus pushed Meyrin aside to replace her in his doorway and finished the sentence. Then she smiled sweetly at the dumbstruck man behind his desk. "Evening, Athrun."

Athrun sighed and dropped his file. "What are you doing here, Lacus?"

She shrugged. "I called your home phone and your cell phone and couldn't get you. So you had to be in the office. And when you got Meyrin to lie for you, I knew it was time for me to make an entrance." She plopped herself down in front of his desk uninvited.

Athrun eyed her critically and sighed again. "Go home, Meyrin," he nodded at the red-haired girl who was still staring at Lacus slack-jawed, "I'll handle the rest and lock up."

"Are you sure, Chief?"

"Positive. Tell the rest of the team to take off too. It's been a tough day."

He waited until Meyrin had left his office before turning back to his files, trying to ignore the pink-haired woman who was staring at him across his desk.

"You lied to me," Lacus said accusatorily.

"I was going home soon," Athrun muttered, "If you hadn't turned up, I would have already been on my way out of the office."

"So I'm the one holding you back now?"

Athrun glanced up hurriedly from his file, hearing the hurt in her voice. "I didn't mean that-"

She cut him off with a raised hand and began to glance around his office. Her gray eyes landed on the couch pushed up against the wall. "You've been sleeping on the couch. The jacket slung over the armrest instead of the coat-rack or the back of your leather chair suggests it. There's a shallow dent in the seat which indicates a long period of time spent on it. Aren't I right?" She eyed Athrun critically.

"How'd you know all that?"

"I don't spend so much time around you and learn nothing."

"So maybe I should recruit you as my investigator," Athrun smiled wryly. Lacus ignored the comment, and the smile. "How long haven't you been home?" He shrugged and returned to his file even though he was not registering any of the information that he was reading.

"Let me jog your memory: you've been holed up here for a week, Athrun."

"How'd you make a guess like that, Detective Clyne? What evidence in my office indicates a week-long stay?" He grinned.

"Not evidence. An informant." She laughed when she saw the sceptical look on Athrun's face. "You recruited my secretary as your informant?"

Lacus laughed again, her gray eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're only half right, Detective Zala. Meyrin is only my informant on Saturdays. Shinn works for me on Mondays, Luna on Tuesdays, Dearka on Wednesdays, Nicol on-"

"Hold on," Athrun interrupted, "you recruited my entire team?"

"Yes." Lacus flashed him a triumphant grin. "Trust me when I say that I even know when you visit the bathroom."

Athrun rolled his eyes in exasperation. The Lacus he knew was really capable of doing something like that. "I'm going to have to refurbish my entire team now, Lacus," he sighed.

"Don't bother," Lacus grinned, "I'll get to the new recruits too, eventually."

"Why'd you do that for?"

The grin on Lacus' face faded. "Because I'm seeing the signs again, Athrun."

"What signs?"

"The signs that you're going off the deep end."

Athrun dropped his gaze and went back to studying his file intently. Until Lacus leaned across his desk, snapped his file shut with a hand and pushed her face into his line of vision.

"Don't brush me off, Athrun," she said warningly. She cupped his chin with her fingers and forced him to meet her gaze. "Stop beating youself up."

"I'm not," Athrun said, but his protest sounded weak even to his own ears.

"Bullshit," Lacus said, "Holing up in your office for days on end. Did you take lunch? Let me answer that for you: No. How long since you've had a decent night's sleep? Answer is: you've never had one since Officer Jones died. Poring over your reports obsessively. Blowing up at your agents for no apparent reason. Lying to me. Those are the signs, Athrun."

"I-"

"Don't deny it." Lacus interrupted, tightening her grasp on his chin, her gray eyes watching him closely. Athrun kept his mouth shut under the intense scrutiny.

"It's not your fault, Athrun."

"It is," he snapped before Lacus could cut him off again, "if I had been more alert, more aware of what was happening, if I had predicted what would happen, Zachary wouldn't have died." He pulled away.

"You're not a fortune-teller, Athrun. You're not god. You're human. No one knew what would happen at the party. Zachary Jones didn't die because of you," Lacus persisted, then she paused before adding quietly, "and I'm not just talking about Zachary's death, Athrun. You know what else I'm referring to-"

"Don't," Athrun snapped, emerald eyes flashing angrily. "Don't go there."

Grey eyes narrowed back at him. "I'll go there if that's what it takes to keep you from falling over the edge," Lacus retorted, the tension and frustration creeping into her voice, "you're not responsible for what your father did, Athrun. You don't owe anyone anything."

"Stop it."

"Your father made those decisions. Just because he was your father and he's dead doesn't mean you need to pay back on his behalf. You're not responsible. Your father chose to kill those police officers and take those innocent lives with him. It wasn't your fault-"

The files on Athrun's desk were swept off with a loud clatter and exploded all over the floor. She stared impassively at Athrun who was now towering over her, the fury and rage rolling off him in waves. "I said shut the fuck up," he snarled.

"Or what?" Lacus stood. She was shorter than Athrun but she met his eyes unflinchingly, using her calmness and poise to battle against his wild anger. "You'll hit me? Kill me?" She challenged, "get rid of me because I'm standing in your way? Just like how those police officers and innocent people were standing in your father's way?"

Her last point hit home as she saw Athrun back down visibly, his furious expression replaced by one of horror and disgust. "I'm not my father," he whispered.

"No," Lacus said simply, "you're not."

She watched his knees cave in under him as he fell back into his leather chair. "You're not your father," she pressed on, "so why do you always try to bear responsibility for what he did? You're Officer Jones' superior, that's why you feel responsible for his death. It was unfortunate. No one could have foreseen it. They know that. I know that. Damn it, Athrun, you know that too, but you choose to beat yourself up because you feel that you need to contribute back to the police force after what your father did. You're taking this harder than all of us because you feel that your inability to prevent his death makes you his murderer. You're making yourself out to be your father."

By the time she was done speaking, Athrun was hunched down in his leather chair. He was holding his head in both hands, eyes screwed tight, as though he could shut her out simply by not seeing her. Lacus stepped around his desk and put both hands on his, lowering them gently. Fearful emerald eyes met her calm grey ones.

"You're not responsible for what your father did," she whispered, "it's not your fault that Officer Jones' died. You're only human, Athrun. You can't go around shouldering all these responsibilities." It's time to let go."

Author's note: There, that's done! Okay, I realised this chapter is somewhat different from the previous ones, in terms of the level of emotions. And I'm a little concerned about the ending. Is it too abrupt? So I'll really really appreciate feedback! Good or bad, just throw it at me! Review review review!