Infatuation (PLL Emison AU)

Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Chapter 35:

Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Seconds before the shot was fired Marco sensed something was wrong. It wasn't just Duke's posture and body language, or the fact that everything around them suddenly seemed quiet. The birds weren't chirping. The wind was still. Everything seemed to be at a complete standstill.

He'd developed a certain sense on the battlefield. When a silence lingered for an unusually long time that meant danger was imminent. He instinctively reached for Emily and pulled her aside, trying to move her towards the door and get her to safety.

Toby stopped, trying to assess the situation. He'd only seen his Chief take control and command when he felt a looming threat. Before he could take another step towards them, a horrendous deafening noise shattered the silence.

Furey saw the shock on Emily's face. Then he saw the blood. Her adrenaline kept her from feeling it.

"Emily!" Toby screamed as he barreled towards them.

The noises were overwhelming. Yelling coming from inside the station. Duke's low baritone barking. The echo of another shot...

This one struck Toby in the shoulder. He whipped back because of the force of it, but kept running towards them.

No one could tell where the shots were coming from. Another bullet zipped through the air. Duke let out a yelp and crouched down on the asphalt.

The span of three seconds felt like a lifetime, like it was never going to end.

Boots stormed out of the station.

Emily looked at the gaping wound and the blood all over her body, touching her fingertips to it like it wasn't real.

But the blood wasn't hers. She wiped Chief Furey's blood out of her eyes just in time to see his eyes widen in surprise. His blood had painted her face, wet hot spatters covering her cheeks. It burned her eyes and turned her vision into an orange blur.

His cigarette fell to the ground, a spark of ashes raining against the pavement as he collapsed on to the asphalt.

Emily saw Duke cowering next to him and at first she thought he'd been hit, but he wasn't bleeding. She had the presence of mind to command the dog to seek shelter, pointing towards a retention wall and yelling, "GO! DOWN!"

He scrambled to his feet and listened to her, whining the whole way.

Officers came pouring out of the building, guns drawn. They immediately started fanning out and searching for the threat.

"Fields!" Toby rushed towards them. "Where did the shots come from?"

The ringing in her ears from how close the bullet had come to her made his voice sound muffled.

She froze. She didn't know whether to reach for her gun or help her boss.

She saw officers in the parking lot grabbing their weapons and pointing towards where they thought the bullets had been fired from.

The basic medical training every officer had to take kicked in and she fell to her knees and put pressure against the injury in Marco's neck. Blood seeped through her fingers. His body jerked and spasmed against the ground. A guttural choking sound filled the air as he realized he'd been the one hit. His eyes opened wide, pleading with her not to let him die.

Emily tore a piece of her blouse and packed the hole in the side of his neck. She couldn't tell if it had hit his carotid artery.

"Emily, what happened?" Toby holstered his weapon and leaned next to her. "Are you hit?"

"I don't know." Her ears were still ringing. "Fuck. Oh, fuck...we need an ambulance!"

"On it!" Another officer yelled, his phone up to his ear. "Shots fired! SHOTS FIRED! Oh Christ, we have an Officer down. I repeat...Officer down!"

"Help me stabilize him." Emily glanced at Toby.

"We need to get out of the open first." Toby glanced around for cover. "We're sitting ducks out here like this."

"We can't move him. Not with this injury." Emily shook her head.

Toby nodded. He saw several officers rushing out in Kevlar and helmets.

"We need cover over here!" Toby yelled to get their attention.

Several officers broke away from the rest and formed a blockade around them. The others quickly fanned out to look for the shooter, though they'd find no trace of them.

The social chameleon had a perfect way of blending in.

Sirens screamed in the air as the ambulance raced towards them from miles down the road.

"Just hold on, Chief." Emily held pressure against the wound.

His hand flapped against the ground.

"Toby, take his hand." She couldn't bear to see it fluttering against the asphalt.

She felt her father's blood coursing through her. How many times must he have done this on the battlefield? How many dying soldiers had he held?

Not Marco.

You don't get to take Marco.

It wasn't a request. It was a command.

Toby gripped Marco's hand as Emily worked to stop the bleeding, or at least slow it long enough so the paramedics and the doctors could patch him up.

She hadn't been able to see how bad the injury was. It was on the left side above his collar bone. She felt around for a pulse on both sides and realized she could still feel both beating, so it hadn't hit the major arteries.

She glanced at Toby.

"Your arm." Her eyes widened at the blood on his ripped shirt.

"Just nicked me." He let go of Furey's hand long enough to rip another piece of his shirt off and tie it around the gash, using his free hand and his teeth to help pull it tight.

The ambulance stopped at entrance, waiting for an all-clear sign. Officer Macho waved them through.

The paramedics rushed over to them. They practically had to pry Emily away from Marco. His eyes had fluttered shut and his face was pale. But he was still breathing.

She blinked and saw herself on the ground at the liquor store. Blood on her hands.

Now she was covered in someone else's blood...just like the night she'd walked in on Lyndon and Maya. It made her sick to her stomach to think that Maya had been soaking in her killer's blood for almost two days before Emily found her.

"Emily." Toby gently shook her.

Emily realized she was standing up and had been moved back several feet as the emergency crew did their job.

"Adult male..." One of the EMT's noted. "Sustained a single gunshot wound. Bullet entrance wound seems to be in the left posterior cervical region of the neck, above and medial to the scapula."

"Hey...hey, are you okay?" Toby's hand grazed her face, wiping more of the blood away to see if she'd been hit.

Emily watched as they secured Marco on a backboard and move him on to a stretcher.

"I'm...I have to go with him." Emily broke away from Toby's grip and rushed towards the ambulance.

"Emily, wait." He gently grabbed her arm.

She ripped it away from him.

"Toby, It's Marco. I have to." Her voice cracked. "It's what my dad would have done."

Marco had been in her life since she was a little girl. He'd helped teach her how to fire a gun. He'd been her dad's best friend. He was her protector after her father died. He'd believed in her skills as an officer.

If Marco died Toby wasn't sure Emily would be able to handle it, especially given everything she'd been going through.

"I'll follow with Duke." He knew there was no chance of stopping her.

"Duke." She gasped. "Oh my God, is he okay?" She spun around, searching for the dog.

"Another officer checked on him. He's a little shaken up. Not used to active shooting. He's been around me firing my gun, but hasn't been trained for this kind of thing."

"Hug him for me." Emily breathed a sigh of relief.

That dog had probably saved her life. Marco wouldn't have pulled her out of the way in time had Duke not sensed the danger.

She ran up to the ambulance and glanced at the crew as they were loading her boss into the back.

"Got room for one more?" She didn't give them a chance to say no. She just climbed in with him.

The paramedics were so preoccupied with Marco that they didn't pay any attention to her.

They didn't see her injury. And Emily didn't feel it.

Her head and heart pounded in synchronicity. The siren screamed as they weaved through traffic. She heard a police siren close behind.

Toby. She realized he'd probably hopped in a cruiser and was speeding after them.

The ride to the hospital didn't feel real. She felt like she was in a reenactment simulation as she watched them shove an IV catheter into his arm and cut open his shirt to get the flat sticky electrodes attached to his chest.

Emily stared at the scars lining his body from his time overseas. He'd been through hell overseas just to come home to this.

He can't die like this.

An erratic beeping sound from the monitors filled the air. It made the ringing in her ears worse. Her head started to throb.

She lowered her face into her palms and groaned. Her face felt hot and sticky from all his blood. She hadn't had a chance to stop and wipe it off.

She saw Marco's hand dangling off the edge of the stretcher and reached for it.

When the rig pulled to a complete stop, Emily moved towards the doors so she could get out of their way. A paramedic flung the door open and she carefully stepped out.

The sun hit her face, making her feel woozy. The adrenaline was starting to wear off and her entire body was aching.

She saw two people rushing to meet them at the door.

Spencer and Alison were dressed up in gowns and gloves. Several nurses flanked behind them.

Alison's heart leaped into her throat when she saw Emily standing there dazed and covered in blood. Her face was as white as a sheet under the dried blood on her cheeks.

Emily blinked and then started moving towards her, her limbs feeling shaky and uncontrollable. Alison reached for the sides of her neck, gently embracing her.

"God, what happened?" She was shaking in rage.

If I have to burn the entire world down to kill this psychopath I will...

Nothing made her feel more irate than when someone came after her loved ones.

"Emily..."

Emily didn't answer, which only served to upset Alison more. Everything else faded away and all the surgeon could see was her wife. She instinctively searched her for injuries. She could feel her shaking.

She's in shock.

That just pissed her off more.

"Emily? Did you hear me? What happened?" Her eyes darted away from the brunette and towards the ambulance where the EMTs were getting someone prepared to move out of the rig.

"Is it Toby?" Spencer frantically made a beeline towards them.

"I...uh..." Emily's tongue felt numb. Her entire face felt numb. I'm going to pass out.

She was on the verge of losing her vision when she heard Alison's voice bring her back to reality.

"You're safe now," she whispered softly. "You're okay."

Her tone was kind, but Emily could also hear the implication that she wanted to murder who was responsible.

"Emily, is Toby okay?" Spencer's voice went up an octave as she fought hard not to panic.

Emily shook herself out of her daze.

"He got grazed." She glanced at Spencer. "He'll probably need stitches, but he's okay. He's..."

"Here." Toby came rushing towards them. "I'm here."

Spencer ran into his arms, her sobs of relief filling the air. Spencer wrapped her arms around him, trembling. He kissed the top of her head.

"Marco was shot right in front of me." Emily licked her lips, forgetting that there was dried blood on them. She watched as the paramedics rolled Marco out of the vehicle.

"Son of a bitch." Alison grit her teeth.

"I didn't even...I...he got me out of the way." She could feel a throbbing pulse at the back of her neck, an ache tingling down her spine.

"It was the copycat." Alison leaned in and said quietly. "I got a text."

"I um...I thought that might be the case." Emily squeezed her eyes shut, fighting a pain in her head.

"Hey, are you okay?" Alison reached up and ran her gloved fingers against the back of her neck. She felt a slick hot substance and her eyes raised in alarm.

The blood was fresh. It wasn't Marco's.

She pushed Emily's hair aside and saw a gash underneath her jaw that ran down against the back of her neck.

"You're bleeding." Alison traced the injury, the sight of her blood making her skin crawl.

The bullet had grazed her before hitting Marco.

They made her bleed. They made her bleed again.

Her lips started to twitch in anger.

Fuck you, you fucking half-rate wanna-be wish-you-were-me psychopath. I'm going to fucking kill you.

"I don't have time to bleed. I have to find the fucker who did this." Emily touched the side of her neck. "You just take care of Marco."

Spencer had already met the paramedics and was getting the background on his injuries.

"Alison..." Emily pulled away and looked towards her Chief. "I'll be fine. I just need to get cleaned up. Focus on him. You and Spencer are the best. And he's going to need the best."

Alison nodded. She peeled off her gloves to put on fresh ones for Marco.

Emily wiped away some of her blood from the cut on the back of her neck and moved aside to let the EMTs get inside with Marco. Alison started to follow, but she turned around and looked at the shaken detective.

"Hey, promise me you'll stay." Alison gripped her hand. "Get checked out. Make sure it's only a graze and nothing more. I've seen too many patients not realize they've been shot until it's too late."

"I'll stay." Emily nodded.

As Alison was turning to leave Emily reached out to her, gently clasping her elbow.

"Ali..." When the blonde looked at her wife she saw the same wide eyes she'd seen when she had been wheeled in after being shot in the chest. "Don't let him die."

"I've got him, Em." She'd said exactly the same thing to Emily after she'd been pegged in the chest.

Leaving Emily was the hardest thing she had ever done, but she knew Toby would stay with her. They both needed to get checked out, so they weren't going anywhere.

She rushed after Spencer, knowing she was going to need help.

"What have we got?" Alison jogged into the trauma room, maneuvering through two of the nurses there.

"O2 dropped and he stopped breathing, so he's been intubated. Single gunshot wound to the neck. No exit wound. Bullet is lodged somewhere. Both carotid pulses palpable. No carotid bruits. Pulse is erratic, but other vital signs stable now that he's on the vent. Blood loss in the field, but someone on scene managed to pack and slow it."

Emily. Alison thought to herself. Her hands were covered in Marco's blood.

The trauma that this copycat had put her through...when she got her hands on this person it was going to end in a bloody mess.

"Getting him started on O-negative. Unsure about spinal involvement. X-rays and CT ordered."

"What about an ultrasound?" Alison suggested.

"On it." Spencer wheeled a cart towards him.

Alison took a moment to touch his hand.

"Marco...Chief Furey..." Alison tried to fight through emotions she didn't understand. Anger, Fear. Fear, Anger. Rage. Absolute rage. Compassion. "We've got you."

They were a smooth cohesive team as they worked to save Marco's life. As soon as they were done with his radiographs they pinpointed the bullet in the left side of the neck near his collar bone.

He was immediately rushed into surgery. If it dislodged it could cause even more damage. Alison watched the surgical team prep him, her hands trembling as she scrubbed.

I can do this. She assured herself. I HAVE to do this. It's Marco.

Normally she'd use her anger to remain focused, but it was different when it was someone she cared about on the table. She very rarely lost her composure in the operating room, but she'd been unable to breathe after Emily's surgery. She felt that same anxiety creeping in, just waiting to squeeze the life out of her.

Spencer had agreed to let Alison assist, knowing they would need each other's company to calm their nerves. Both of their partners were hurt. Both of their partners had come close to being in Marco Furey's position.

Alison glanced at Spencer before they began. Sometimes if she looked hard enough she could see the family resemblance. They were alike in so many ways. Driven. Controlling. Intelligent.

But they were also polar opposites. They were driven by different things, but in the end they wanted the same result...to save lives.

Spencer made an incision, widening the area where the bullet had gone in. Alison controlled the bleeding while Spencer worked her way in to get the bullet out.

It was a complicated surgery because there were so many nerves and arteries, but they were able to retrieve the bullet.

When Spencer pulled it out of him the entire room breathed a collective sigh of relief.

She dropped it in a basin.

Alison turned towards the nurse.

"Make sure to hold on to it. They'll need to log it as evidence." She knew that Emily would furiously track down who had done this, and she was going to help her...whether Emily liked it or not.

Spencer searched for any active bleeders that needed to be tied off before she closed the injury. Alison padded a sterile pad around the injury to clean up the blood, a sight that ignited both irritation and concern.

She hadn't been able to look at blood in the same light since she'd regained the memories of the night her family had died. Especially when it was the blood of someone innocent.

It still tickled something in her veins, but the obsession was waning. She was coming to terms with the fact that she'd always have urges. She'd always want to hurt certain types of people. But she was going to have to find a balance for her patients.

She couldn't allow herself to get emotionally invested, yet she also couldn't stop herself anymore. The barrier that made her such a great surgeon was crumbling. She had to learn to view the surgical field without thinking of the person underneath the sterile drapes.

Alison watched Spencer work. The tall brunette really was an excellent surgeon. She could appreciate the art behind her work. They made a decent team, though Alison would never tell her that. It would feed her ego too much.

They worked together in silence, neither of them knowing what to say. The uncomfortable truth that loomed in the air that it could have just as easily been Emily or Toby on the table made the tension in the room thick.

Alison didn't allow herself to relax until the surgery was over.

She quickly changed out of her surgical gear and followed him to the recovery room in the ICU.

After they got him settled she stood over him. He looked pale and fragile. She didn't like it. He'd always been an amazingly strong protective presence in her life. It was difficult to see him so helpless. He'd always protected her.

In fact, one of the very first things he'd said to her was that he would protect her.

"Hey, look at me." He'd met her sad blue eyes as she sat huddled in her closet. "I promise to protect you. I promise."

She remembered how gently he'd reached into the closet, close enough to grab her and pull her out, but he hadn't. He'd waited on her, because he knew she was traumatized.

She looked at the man in the bed and thought about how prominent he'd been to her childhood. She hadn't realized she had grown to care for him so much. All those years ago he'd saved her life. Granted, she'd been the one who put herself in that predicament in the first place when she cut herself. But he'd still saved her.

o ~ O ~ o

~ Then ~

Alison was swinging on the playground swingset, digging her feet in the soft ground, swaying more than swinging. She looked at the ground sadly. She missed when Jason pushed her. She could go so high that she was basically flying.

It had been a year and a half since her family died, but the pain of losing her brother was still fresh.

She was supposed to be running around with balloons and eating birthday cake for her ninth birthday, but she told her Aunt Mary she didn't want a party. She didn't want to be with anyone but Jason.

Her heart hurt.

"I just want to go to the park and be by myself," she'd said. "I don't want to have a party without my brother."

She'd said the same thing on her eighth birthday. Mary had been concerned about her pushing people away. The little girl had become sad and withdrawn.

Her night terrors were happening almost every night. She'd stopped talking to her therapist. She didn't want to tell them what her daddy had done to her, so she pretended it didn't happen. And eventually...she didn't remember.

Daddies were supposed to love and protect their little girls. She was his little princess...until she wasn't.

That night was a blur in her head, but she knew something really bad had happened. She just couldn't let it in. She pushed the monster behind a door in her mind and slammed it and locked it.

Pepe stared up at her, letting out a soft whine. He could sense that she was sad. She smiled at the dog and reached out to scratch his head. He licked her hand.

"Good doggie."

She had been really protective of Pepe since that stupid Alexis girl had told her that she could get him taken away forever if he bit her.

Alison wanted to bite that little brat. She'd seen her around in the neighborhood. When she saw her she often hid with Pepe because she was scared Alexis would hurt him.

Pepe was her best friend now that Jason was gone, and she would protect him no matter what. She would even hurt the girl to keep her dog safe.

"I love you, Pepe." She leaned down and kissed his head.

His tail swished against the ground.

She heard soft footfalls approaching. Pepe stood up, alert, watching a man walk towards her. He had grown very protective of the little girl.

Alison didn't cower in fear, but instead lifted her hand.

"Hi, Mr. Marco." Alison waved to the Detective.

He had a small gift-wrapped box in one hand and a soda in the other.

"Hey there, kiddo." He moved to squat in front of her. "Happy Birthday."

He handed her the present.

She didn't want it. She wanted to throw it at him and scream.

The only thing I want for my birthday is my brother back.

Alison turned away to hide her tears, but then she remembered that showing adults emotions was a good thing. They pitied her more.

"I don't want it to be my birthday." Alison looked away from him. "Not without Jason."

"I can understand that." Marco nodded, waiting for the child to face him again. When she did he smiled sadly. "I've lost people I loved, too."

"You have?" Alison gripped the chains on her swing.

"I have." His face darkened, his eyes hard and sad.

Alison recognized sadness. She understood it.

"I'm sorry," she replied.

"And I'm sorry about your brother," he said. "You want to tell me about him?"

"Jason was my bestest friend...before Pepe." She smiled at the dog. "I don't want him to be gone. I want him here with me."

"I understand." He didn't patronize her or talk to her like she was some dumb little kid, which she appreciated.

There was a lull of silence.

"So, your aunt says you don't want to talk to your therapist anymore." He tried to tread carefully.

He knew the dangers of PTSD and the importance of being treated, especially for a young growing mind who had witnessed a violent tragedy.

"I'm a big girl now." She huffed. "I don't need anyone to take care of me."

"Oh? All grown up, are we?" He placated her. "Going off to college and everything?"

Alison beamed. She couldn't wait to grow up and be big and strong. And she loved to learn. She wanted to learn more and more every day.

"My Aunt Mary says I'm smarter than anyone my age. She says I could be a scientist or a doctor." Alison perked up. "I'm studying really hard, Mr. Marco. I want to work really really hard and maybe become a doctor."

"That's really good, Alison." He encouraged her. "Do you ever think about going to a real school with all the other kids?"

Her gaze suddenly cut away from him. He sounded like her therapist.

"No. I want to stay with my Aunt Mary." Her response was defiant...almost angry. "She protects me."

Marco was extremely gentle in his response,

"What does she protect you from?"

Alison looked up at him, her face stony and cold. Her little lips were in a tight frown. Her brows curved down, angrily furrowed.

"It's okay to be scared." He gauged her reaction carefully.

He'd always known there was more to the story. He'd done extensive research despite his partner wanting to close the case and move on.

He'd uncovered an unsettling discovery about the DiLaurentis family and their connections, and Mary had confirmed it.

The only thing they didn't know was the horrors that went on in Alison's mind. Mary never pressured her to talk, but hoped therapy would provide the tools she needed to heal from whatever atrocities she'd been exposed to...or things that might have happened to her.

"Bad things happened to me, too." Marco still fought his PTSD. Being overseas had fundamentally changed something inside of him.

Alison twisted in her swing, anxious, but curious.

"Do you talk to people about the bad things?" she asked.

He nodded.

"I do." He started shaking the soda bottle in his hands. "See, if people bottle things up inside it starts to build into something that will spill out, making a big mess." He aimed the bottle away from them and popped the top off, sending fizzy liquid everywhere.

Marco tried to stop the liquid from spurting all over him. It was kind of funny, so Alison laughed.

"Bottling it up may make you feel really really mad. And then you might do things you'll regret," he said.

"What's regret mean?" Alison traced her index finger against the chains of the swing.

"Have you ever done something that made you feel sad...and you wish you could change it?"

She didn't understand what he was asking, but she understood that she needed to pretend that she could feel things like other people, so she nodded quietly.

"That feeling is called regret. And sometimes when we're upset we do things we can't take back, but wish we could. That's why it's important to never let it get to that point."

"Oh."

"I know us grown ups are so bossy." He rolled his eyes at himself, "But we care about you."

Not all of you.

She shivered when she thought of her parents.

"Talking to people can help you," he said.

And because it will make me not broken. It will make me look normal.

Alison bit her lip.

"What if I'm too scared?" Can't let those memories in. Can't remember. Don't want to.

"Children repress."

"Well, your buddy Pepe here makes you feel safe, right?" Marco asked.

Alison nodded.

"And your aunt. And I'm here to protect you, too." He assured her. "And if there is ever a time you feel really scared and you can't see any of us around..." He gestured for her to open her gift.

Alison looked at the birthday gift she'd all but forgotten. She hadn't wanted it at first, but now all this talk had her curious, so she carefully peeled back the wrapping paper and opened the top of the box.

She pulled out a little stuffed dog. Normally, she hated toys. She hadn't been a little girl since her mommy and daddy took her innocence, but this toy was different. It was a puppy that had been specially made to look exactly like Pepe.

"You can take him places when you can't take Pepe." Marco smiled.

She hugged it close.

"Thank you."

"Happy birthday, Alison." He slowly started to rise to his feet, but Alison reached out and tugged on his shirt.

He stayed in front of her, crouching, watching her carefully.

She took a quiet breath.

"Mr. Marco?" She looked up from the ground. "My daddy hurt me." Her bottom lip trembled.

It triggered Marco's paternal instinct, but he didn't dare reach out to hug her. He knew she hated to be touched. And Pepe would bite his face off.

"I'm scared." She lowered her voice. "I'm scared my daddy and my grandpa will come back. Grandpa wanted to hurt me, too. And I'm scared that they'll come and take me away from Aunt Mary and hurt me again."

Marco tried to contain his anger. The worst thing in the world anyone could do was hurt a child. And her family had clearly traumatized her. He'd done a lot of digging into the DiLaurentis family...and what he found had shocked him, and Alison was confirming his worst fears.

"They were going to do really bad things to me." She took a shuddering breath. "My daddy touched me..."

"They will never hurt you again. I promise." The commanding tone in his voice made her believe him.

"You pinky promise?" She extended her pinky finger towards him.

"I double pinky promise." He offered both of his pinkies in return.

Whoa, he means business.

She locked her pinkies with his and smiled softly at him. She didn't know it then, but he'd kept that promise her entire life...in more ways than one.

o ~ O ~ o

Alison stared at the unconscious man, fighting for his life.

"He's good at his job," Emily had said at the abandoned house.

She closed her eyes, trying to draw a memory from her childhood. She'd been at the cabin with her aunt. It had been shortly before Marco came to take them back to town. Mary was on the phone, learning of her father's death. A heart attack. But she'd said something Alison couldn't quite clearly make out.

"Thank you, Detective."

"Oh, Marco..." She whispered under her breath.

It all made sense to her now. How certain he'd been that they'd never come back for her. Why he'd adamantly told Emily they were dead.

He'd killed enemies overseas...

Had he cared that much? To kill for her?

Maybe she wasn't the only killer in town.

Even if she asked him, she knew he'd never tell her.

She leaned down and whispered in his ear.

"Your secret is safe with me." She knew a thing or two about keeping secrets.

She touched his hand and glanced at the monitors one last time before she left him to go join Spencer to help with the post-op notes.

She walked by the large glass window with his name on it and out of the ICU. She still hadn't dealt with the mountain of emotions swirling in her mind. She felt like at any moment a landslide was going to crash into her. The fear of the unknown when she'd seen the headline on the television. The terror that gripped her. The heartbreak she had when she saw Marco being wheeled in on the stretcher. And the anger.

The budding anger she'd felt when she got the text from her psycho-stalker. As she walked along the long corridors of the hospital in thought she realized that things were never going to stop...not unless she found a way to put an end to it. All the research in the world wouldn't help if they didn't know who was behind it. She wasn't very hopeful that the evidence Emily had collected at the house would turn anything up. The person had taken a page right out of her playbook. They blended in and they didn't make many mistakes.

Until now.

Going after Marco, Emily, and Toby was the last straw.

She pulled her phone out, staring at the text taunting her.

I gave you a SHOT, but you blew it. This is my game now.

She typed up a reply, uncertain of whether or not it would go through. Sometimes her responses pinged back to her and other times they went through to the copycat, a setting she was certain that was designed for a reason on the receiving phone.

Fuck you. They have nothing to do with this.

After a few seconds she got a response,

They do now. It's open season. And I've been brushing up on my hunting skills.

The fact that this person had a gun and was learning to shoot was alarming...and infuriating. She pounded the keypad in response,

You think you're so fucking menacing. You're nothing but a coward...too afraid to face me.

You've gone soft, Killer.

I will not throw my phone into the wall. I will not throw my phone into the wall. Alison clutched her phone so tight she was certain it was going to shatter into pieces.

You wanted my attention? You fucking got it. But this is between the two of us. Leave everyone else out of it. I'm tired of playing games. This is going to end with one of us in a bodybag. And I promise you it won't be me.

She was trying to lay the foundation for a trap, but that was hard to do when all she could think about was ripping this person's throat out with her teeth.

Don't be so sure about that.

"Fucking cocky little shit..."

Alison fired back,

I'll be in touch.

She closed out of the conversation, knowing she couldn't afford to concentrate on anything other than Marco at the moment.

She pulled up Spencer's name and sent her a text.

He's recovering in the ICU. I'm going to grab us some coffee and check in on Em and Toby. You in your office?

She walked towards the elevators, her phone lighting up with Spencer's response.

Coffee sounds great. Already looked in on Emily and Toby. They're okay. Yes, I'm doing post-op notes in my office.

Alison nodded in satisfaction. She liked that Spencer's first instinct had been to go and check on their partners. She put her phone away and climbed on the elevator.

When she reached the bottom floor she stepped off and rounded a corner. The first thing she saw was a little red and black ladybug. The colors stood out against the pale colored walls. Her aunt used to tell her that ladybugs were a sign of good luck. She smiled as she walked past it, hoping that her good luck was just around the corner, because she was having trouble seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

The little ladybug slowly crawled along the wall, moving up and down until it finally settled on a spot it was satisfied with.

A few minutes later a shadow fell over the tiny bug. A long fingernail circled around it before pulling back.

Her hand came soaring through the air, the intent to squash the ladybug, but another hand shot out and grabbed her wrist before she could.

Alex's eyes met Alison's. The blonde was carrying a tray with two coffees in her other hand.

"What are you doing here, Alexis?" Alison snapped.

"It's Alex." The journalist seethed. "And I'm following up on the biggest story in town." She yanked her arm out of Alison's grip, almost causing her to drop the coffees.

"Is that all we are to you? Stupid fucking stories?" Alison felt the urge to throw a scalding hot cup of coffee in her face.

First do no harm. First do no harm. First do no harm.

Maybe she could trip her in the parking lot instead. And then accidentally run her over with an ambulance. And back that ambulance up over her again.

"It's a matter of public safety." Alex insisted.

I could throw her off the roof of the building.

No, she'd probably fly away on her broom because she's a witch.

"Bullshit. You're a glorified gossip rag. You don't care about public safety."

"Would you care to comment for my glorified gossip rag about Marco Furey's condition?" Alex wasn't fazed.

"What is wrong with you?" Alison growled. "That man is a goddamn hero. And he deserves better than whatever shit piece you're writing." She looked at the pad and pen sticking out of Alex's pocket.

"He's hardly been friendly with me." She frowned. "He continues to allow his officers to berate me, your wife included."

Alison didn't like the way she'd said your wife. She already had a psychopath gunning for Emily. She didn't need Alex hounding her for an interview.

"Keep my wife out of this. And stay the hell away from Marco." Alison moved forward in a threatening manner.

She was still reeling from seeing everyone she cared about covered in blood. And she wanted to take it out on someone. Why not take it out on a leech sucking the lives out of people in their worst possible moments?

"What exactly is it that you don't like about me, Alison? We could have been friends, but you've treated me like shit since we were kids." Alex crossed her arms, daring Alison to hit her.

"That ship sailed when you threatened my dog on the playground." Alison curled her fingers into a fist.

Alex rolled her eyes.

"Oh my God, I didn't threaten him. We were seven and he scared me." Alex scoffed.

"Okay. How about the fact that you were constantly trying to make a story out of the worst day of my life? Or the fact that you continue to do it to this day with everyone in this town?" Alison felt her breath getting heavy.

Hit her. Hit her and then dump this coffee over her head. Watch her face burn off.

"It's my job." Alex growled defiantly.

"That's not the flex you think it is. You chose for it to be your job." Alison had no sympathy for her.

"It's what my dad did, but you wouldn't know that about me, because you never cared to learn." For a brief moment, a flash of grief washed across her face.

The only thing Alison knew about Alex's father was that he skipped out on her when she was a kid. He probably left because she was so annoying.

Of course, she didn't know the details about how it drove her into a depression and had her drinking at an early age. Emily hadn't divulged what had happened when she ran into Alex at the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, because Emily believed in the anonymity of the program.

"I couldn't care less about your sad tragic backstory." Alison could beat her in a heartbeat if they were playing "who had it worse" as a kid.

"I thought you would." Alex looked at her sadly. "I thought if anyone in town would understand fucked up families it would be you."

"Let me set something straight. Your father leaving you is nothing compared to me seeing my entire family slaughtered by my father." Rage burned through her.

How dare this woman stand there and act like some kind of victim? She didn't know what true pain was. She didn't know what it was like to be preened and groomed. To be molested and to live in fear. To soak in the blood of her family...her brother. To be raped. To lose the only constant in life to cancer. To go through life alone.

Loneliness was more than a feeling. It was a manifestation weighing heavily on her heart, a burden crushing her...suffocating her. It consumed her very thoughts. It controlled her very being. To hate and feel sympathy at the same time. Hatred for the monsters. Sympathy for those they'd hurt.

She truly was the only one of her kind in the world. A killer with a heart.

Alex could never understand that kind of pain.

"Leave my hospital." Alison was shaking in anger. "Now. Before I put you in it permanently."

"I'm not afraid of you." Alex scoffed.

"You should be." Alison took a step forward, fixing an icy glare on her.

An emotion flashed across Alex's face that looked like fear, but there was something else in her eyes that Alison didn't recognize. It's like she'd suddenly registered that Alison had destroyed her camera in a fit of rage...like she'd seen Alison's monster rear its ugly head. And instead of backing down from it, she challenged it.

"That coffee looks delicious." Alex took a step back from the angry blonde surgeon. Her eyes drifted to the cafeteria. She kept a wary eye on Alison as she walked around her. "Let me know if anyone would like to comment on the shooting."

She slowly backed away from Alison, never taking her eyes off of her.

Alison wanted to chase her down and beat her, but she had more important things to do. She balanced the tray of coffees in her hand and pulled her phone out to warn Emily.

Drake the Snake is lurking. Just letting you know. You doing okay?

Drake the Snake, a moniker that Aria had so brilliantly come up with had been Alison's favorite insult.

Emily texted back immediately,

Ugh. Thx. Doing ok. Getting cleaned up. Aria offered me some scrubs to change into. Cops need my clothes for evidence. How is Marco? Spencer told us he came thru surgery, but not much else.

It was just like the brunette to ignore the trauma she'd been through and worry about her boss instead.

He's recovering in the ICU. I'll get you more details as soon as I finish post-op. Any details on the shooter yet?

They're trying to track a trajectory based on spatter analysis. Once they've done that they'll search the grounds where they believed the shots originated from.

You're sure you're okay?

Physically? Yes. Mentally...I don't know yet. Still in shock, I think. Won't be okay until Marco is up and talking. Waiting for it all to hit me.

Aw, Em... Alison wasn't sure what to say to that. Her wife had seen one of the people closest to her gunned down. And Alison had a feeling that Marco had taken that bullet for Emily. I'm here if you need me, baby. I love you.

At the other end of the hospital, Emily smiled at the phone and replied,

I love you, too.

The detective closed out of her conversation with Alison and was getting ready to put her phone up when it buzzed in her hand. She thought it might be her mother checking on her again after she'd called her earlier. She'd assured her she was okay, even though she wasn't okay.

A picture of Hanna, Caleb, and the boys filled up her screen. She had been wondering when Hanna would get the news.

She didn't even get a chance to say hello when she picked up the call.

"Jesus Christ, Emily, are you okay? I saw the news about a shooting at the station. What happened?" The frantic tone in Hanna's voice echoed the way she'd felt when she saw Marco collapse.

"Yeah, sorry. I was going to call you. I didn't want you finding out like this...seeing it on the news. Things have just been...crazy." She touched the bandage on the back of her neck. "I was grazed, but I'm okay."

"The news is saying that two other officers were shot..." Hanna was afraid to ask.

"Toby and Chief Furey."

"My God." Hanna gasped. "Are they going to be okay?"

"Toby was grazed in the shoulder. He had some stitches, but he's going to be fine. Marco..." She felt a knot forming in her throat. "Marco is in critical condition. He was hit in the neck. He had surgery to remove the bullet, but they don't know how it's going to affect him going forward. He's still unconscious."

"Do you have a hit-man after you or something?" It normally would have been a joke with her, but she sounded dead serious.

No, a psychopathic copycat.

"What we do pisses a lot of people off. There are a lot of disgruntled criminals out there." Emily tried to keep her voice from shaking, but Hanna could hear it.

"You're not okay." Hanna called her on it.

"I am. But I'm not. I'm sorry, that probably doesn't make sense." She nervously worried at her lip. "It was..." That look on Marco's face. "Marco was just inches away from me. I had his blood all over me." She took a shaky breath. "Bullets were being fired everywhere. It was complete chaos." Now that she'd gotten started she couldn't stop, "It happened so fast. I know people always say that, but it was like a scene from a movie. It didn't feel real. I didn't even know I'd been grazed. I had to render aid to Marco while the person firing at us was nowhere to be seen. I watched Toby get shot and a bullet narrowly missed Duke..."

"They shot at Duke, too? Oh, hell no! The gloves are coming off for this motherfucker." Hanna growled. "Caleb can watch the boys tonight. I'm coming over to make sure you and Alison are taken care of."

"No." The last thing she needed was to put Hanna in the line of fire. "Han, I love you, but we need space right now."

"Are you sure?" Hanna asked. "If anything is going to send you spiraling, I'd imagine it would be this."

"I'm not going to drink. I'm sick just thinking about eating or drinking anything." Emily felt her gut roiling. "And I have to take care of Alison."

"Let her take care of you, too." Hanna ordered. "I know how stubborn you can be."

Emily chuckled at her comment.

"I've got to run, but I promise to keep you updated." Emily stared at the lockers, all labeled with hospital staff's names.

"I love you, Em," Hanna said softly.

"Love you, too."

After she hung up she slid her phone into the front pocket of the scrubs she was wearing. She had to admit that they were kind of comfortable. They were cozy like pajamas. She wouldn't mind wearing them every day.

She'd just finished cleaning the blood off of her arms, hands, and face. Her hair was damp from washing the blood out of it. She blinked, looking in the locker room mirror.

"Do they fit?" Aria rounded the corner with two cups of coffee from the little café across the street. Toby and Duke had escorted her there while Emily got herself cleaned up.

"Yeah." Emily turned around, taking the coffee that Aria was offering her. "How's Toby?"

"Stoic. Calm." Aria took a sip from her cup and then pulled back and blew lightly against the steam. "But I can tell he's pissed off, too. He's got that quiet sort of rage. The kind you don't want to be on the receiving end of. Ever."

"Yeah." Emily couldn't help but chuckle. "Complete opposite of a certain pathologist I know."

"Oh, I'll kick your ass while telling you I'm kicking your ass." Aria didn't deny it.

"Which is why I'm glad you've got my back." She smiled warmly at her friend.

"Always." Aria nodded. "So..." She watched as Emily shut the locker door. "You sure you want to do this?"

"As long as you're willing." Emily glanced at Aria.

"I'm always willing, Fields. When will you learn that about me?" Aria winked.

Emily smiled and followed her lead. Despite the trauma and the chaos, she was able to take a moment to be grateful for the people she had in her life.

o ~ O ~ o

Emily stared through the glass of the ICU room where her Chief was recovering. She remembered all too well what it felt like to be trapped in that bed. She'd been standing guard over him for at least an hour. No one said anything to her because of the fact that she was in scrubs.

She had been planning on slipping in somehow, but it was only when Aria offered her a set of scrubs to change into that she realized it could be this simple.

Marco Furey meant everything to her. She'd lost her father. She couldn't lose him, too. She swallowed hard, trying not to think about the moment his hot blood splattered all over her face. It was everywhere. Her hair. Her cheeks. In her eyes. Her mouth.

She felt nauseous, but fought it. She'd managed to keep from throwing up on the scene because her Chief needed her. The shock had rendered her unable to think about the fact that his blood was all over her.

The look on his face haunted her. The pleading desperation of a dying man who had always been the picture perfect version of strength. It was a look she never thought she'd see on his face. It was natural, she supposed, to feel that way when faced with your own mortality. She wondered if she'd had that look on her face after the car hit her.

She heard footsteps approaching. She knew who it was without looking. She'd know her stride anywhere. She saw Alison's reflection in the glass.

She thought she recognized the woman there...her wife, but she had discovered the many pieces that made up the woman she loved and she was slowly putting them back together.

"How did you get in here?" Alison asked softly, surprised to see her.

"I know someone on the inside." Any other day it would have been a joke, but her tone was serious.

"Aria or Spencer?" Alison questioned, walking up behind her.

"Aria." Emily's eyes fixated on Marco, a pump breathing for him. He had a neck brace on and was covered in tubes. "Is he going to be okay?"

"We won't know until he wakes up. We weren't able to do a neuro exam before surgery. There didn't look to be severe spinal involvement, but..."

"But he could be paralyzed?" Emily finished for her.

"Hopefully not." Alison put her hand on Emily's shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

There was a beat of silence.

"Okay." Emily didn't turn around, but instead opted to meet her wife's gaze in her reflection.

"Okay...what?" Alison tilted her head and furrowed her brows.

Emily gripped the seal below the large window before slowly turning around.

"I'll let you help me bring this fucker down. I'll work with you." She met the blonde's gaze.

When Alison looked into Emily's eyes she saw something in them that was broken. Whether that was her fault or seeing Marco getting shot was the catalyst was unclear.

All Emily knew was that she couldn't do it alone. She knew it was a risk to let Alison channel her darkness. But she was hoping that she could provide the light to balance out their dynamic. She just had to hope Alison would be honest with her.

Alison saw the torn weary expression on her face. She reached out and stroked her cheek. Emily let out a shaky sigh.

"I called my contact in the forensics department and put a rush on what I found in the house." Emily's eyes darted back towards Marco, like if she looked away for too long he'd die.

"That's a good start." Alison glanced around the hallway to make sure no one was listening. "We can touch base at home."

Emily nodded.

"How are you doing?" Emily's sad brown eyes met hers again. "That surgery had to be hell."

"It was." Alison slowly looked at the ground. "I was so angry...and so hurt. And I couldn't tell which one to feel. Which one was the right thing to feel." She felt Emily's fingers against her chin, tilting her head up.

"Both. It's okay to feel overwhelmed." Emily gently kissed her forehead. "We're going to get through this."

Alison leaned forward and pushed herself up on her tip-toes, her lips softly meeting Emily's. When she pulled back she stroked Emily's cheek.

"You need to get some rest, honey. You're still healing." She moved her hand down to Emily's abdomen, but kept her eyes focused on the gauze behind her ear where the bullet had grazed her.

"I'm not going anywhere. Not until your shift is over." Emily shook her head.

"Chief Hastings cut me loose for the day. She knows this was traumatizing for me. I suspect Spencer put her up to it." Alison looked through Marco's window. "I just need to double check my post-op and hand off the rest of my surgeries."

"That should work out perfectly. The Interim Chief is arranging for protective detail to stay outside Marco's room until he's recovered. They should be here soon." Emily had been pleased to hear that he'd be safe in case someone came to finish the job, though she knew she was the real target.

"Interim Chief?" Alison lifted a curious brow.

"Marco's second in command. Her name is Cece Drake. No relation to Alex." She frowned. "Got a call from her personally. She knew we'd still be at the hospital. She wanted to update me. She called an emergency briefing on the shooting and she made the call that even though Chief Furey is in the hospital with security she'd feel more comfortable with some of our guys here watching over him. Veronica Hastings signed off on it."

"Good." Alison nodded. "What about us?"

"I convinced her that we were safe. It will keep them off our backs so we can keep searching for the person who did this."

"I bet that went over really well with Toby." Alison scoffed.

"He's not going to fight me on it." Emily had been surprised that he didn't call her an idiot and force her to dress herself from head to toe in Kevlar, but he'd learned he wasn't going to win this particular battle.

"Let me go take care of a few things and then we can go home." Alison reached for her hand, gently squeezing it.

"I'll let Toby know. He's been hovering." Emily chuckled.

"Is he doing okay?" Alison asked.

"He's hanging in there." She squeezed Alison's hand before looking in on Marco one last time. "They'll call us as soon as he's up, right?" The broken emotion in Emily's tone was devastating for Alison to hear.

Alison nodded.

"I'll wait for you in the lobby." Emily kissed her cheek.

They parted ways, Emily making her way out of the ICU and back towards the waiting area.

She found Toby sitting in a chair.

Duke was sitting next to his feet. He was wearing a K-9 police vest that Toby had grabbed from the trunk of the car. He didn't want his dog alone with a psycho sniper out there. He'd slipped the vest on and it looked official. No one had said a word to them.

"How is Furey doing?" Toby asked, sipping water from a paper cup.

"Not awake yet. The bullet was lodged near his collar bone. It didn't sever any arteries, but they won't know about spinal injuries until he comes to." It pained her to think of him in that hospital bed.

"He's a tough old bastard, so he's got that going for him." Toby pat Duke's head.

"How are you doing?" Emily sat down next to him, looking at the bandage wrapped around his arm.

"Ten stitches. I'll be alright. You?" He glanced at a white gaze affixed to her jaw and neck. It was mostly hidden by her hair.

"Didn't need stitches. Once they cleaned it up they realized it was just a scratch. It narrowly missed me. It Marco hadn't..." She had a flashback to the moment he'd grabbed her and moved her. He had literally taken a bullet for her. "He uh..." She cleared her throat. "He saved my life."

"Habit for him. Probably following the instincts he picked up overseas," Toby said. He put his hand on her knee. "It's not your fault."

It kind of is. That bullet was meant for me.

"Right." Emily looked down at the ground, fighting back tears.

"Emily, seriously...look at me," Toby said gruffly. When her eyes met his he repeated himself. "This is not your fault."

"Whatever you say, Toby." She was too exhausted to argue.

"I know you. I know you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. I know that you're blaming yourself. And you need to stop it. Right now." His sounded like a drill sergeant ordering around a cadet.

"I'll be fine." She assured her partner. "I just need to process."

She could feel a tight ball of tension building in her stomach, but she kept pushing it away, fighting the inevitable. She glanced at her hands. Even though she'd washed them she could still see Marco's blood on them.

"Let me know when you and Alison are getting ready to leave. I'll drop you two and Duke off at your house." The harshness of Toby's tone had been replaced by a kinder attitude.

"Duke might be safer with you..." She hesitated. She knew the killer was after them, and that put the dog in danger.

She had seen how close a bullet was to hitting him in the parking lot. She was certain it had scared the shit out of the poor dog.

"He stays with you." Toby left no room for argument.

Normally Emily would have fought him on it, but she didn't have the energy for it.

They waited fifteen minutes before Alison appeared in the lobby.

Toby recommended going out the back way to avoid the press and for safety in general. The girls didn't argue.

They disappeared into the parking deck...

...a level below where a dark SUV sat, idling.

The shooting had not gone as planned. The gun was gone.

A cell phone glowed in the darkness as obsessive eyes stared at the last text.

I'll be in touch.

What the fuck did that even mean?

Gloved palms slammed against the steering column in frustration. All of that shooting practice had been for nothing.

They were all going to live. Every fucking one of them. Emily was supposed to die, but she'd walked away from the whole thing practically unscathed. Marco Furey and Toby Cavanaugh were just collateral damage, though it had been satisfying seeing their blood.

"Fuck."

If it hadn't been for the goddamn dog...

Then again...

Maybe this isn't the way.

Thinking about it, there was always only going to be one outcome. Alison was being defiant, so there was no other option than to rethink the plan.

Law enforcement would be ramping up the case now that three of their own had been injured.

A gloved finger traced Alison's words,

I'll be in touch.

An eerie grin reflected off of the screen. For the longest time there was a debate on whether to out Alison to the world or join her. They could have been unstoppable. But Alison had gotten lost somewhere along the way. It was clear the doctor wasn't the real deal anymore.

Poor little lamb, no longer the predator. Simply the prey.

"If you won't join me...then you'll die."

That was a promise.

Alison had gone rabid. And rabid animals needed to be put down.

o ~ O ~ o

Emily and Alison ordered dinner and then sat down in the living room together, both exhausted. Emily glanced at Alison.

"I want to compare notes about this psycho."

Hearing Emily say it was surreal. A woman torn between her job and their love...it was something strange that had transcended over such a short period of time. It didn't feel real.

"How do you know I have notes?" A smile tugged at Alison's lips.

"Because I know you." Emily smiled back.

"I think I might have an idea." She was working on plans to draw out the person hiding in the shadows. "This person can't make up their mind about me. They don't know whether they want to be me or hurt me. We saw that when they escalated to killing people who looked like me. I think whoever it is is torn between wanting a partner and wanting to get me out of the way."

Alison looked at Emily to get her opinion.

"I think so, too. For some reason this person fixated on you when you were young." She tried to keep a straight face to keep her anger in check, but her cheeks were starting to turn a rosy color. "They followed you for years. So it has to be someone local."

"Initially it was a game to them...to play with me. Then at some point they turned against me, trying to expose me. See..." Alison reached for her phone and pulled up a password protected notes app, showing Emily the names of the victims and how they spelled her name and SLK. "They called me out specifically."

"I knew I was missing something when I was looking at those names." Emily gently smacked the table. Some detective she was turning out to be.

Then again, love blinded people.

"When exactly did they turn against you?" Emily asked.

"That's tricky to say. Because several of the first kills didn't have anything to do with the list they were making in their mind. It's almost like a switch flipped."

"What happened that could have triggered it?" Emily's brows were curved in thought.

Alison licked her lips and looked at her wife.

"I married you." It was around that time that the killer had started to escalate.

"So...jealousy? This asshole thinks they have a claim on you?" The rage was getting harder for Emily to contain.

"I think they were trying to get my attention when they started killing women that looked like me. But when they started killing women that looked like you there was more anger in them." Alison pointed out.

"Okay, so we have someone local and someone who likes to spy on you." Emily frowned.

"And someone who knows basic forensics...or just picked up how to kill like I do. Someone who knew me when I was younger...because of the photos and the fact that they killed..." Alison felt a knot in her throat, "...they killed Naomi. They knew she was my best friend in high school. This person has been studying me my whole life. I was thinking maybe someone with ties to the NAT club."

The thought made her want to puke...that one of them was still out there.

"That might make sense given the darkroom in the abandoned house. That place meant something to the killer. It wasn't chosen at random. And why leave behind their equipment?" Emily scratched her head.

"Maybe a message...or maybe they just didn't have time to come back after they'd scrubbed the place clean." Alison shrugged.

A random thought occurred to Emily.

"Did you know at one point we were looking at Alex Drake?" she asked.

"You think because of the photography and the fact that we went to school together?" Alison mulled it over.

She'd always hated Alex, but was the woman a killer?

She thought about the night she'd smashed Alex's camera. It had terrified the journalist.

"I can't say I haven't considered it, but she moved away after high school." Alison rolled her eyes at the idea of Alex becoming some big star in New York. "Plus, she's my age. And that photo of me was taken when I was seven-years-old. She's not old-school. Her camera is digital. I know because I smashed the memory card."

"I guess..." Emily seemed lost in thought.

"The only thing I know for sure is that they're hurting you to get to me. They think hurting you will draw that darkness back out of me. It's someone who wants to push my buttons and control me."

And in a way, they were doing exactly that. Because Alison was ready to lock herself in a room with this person and go head to head with them.

"I've been thinking that since I seem to be the key to all this...the best way to catch them is to give them what they want." Alison pointed to herself.

"That's suicide, Alison." Emily sat up rimrod straight on the couch. "You'd be walking into a trap."

"Not if you're with me." Alison interjected. "I won't do this without you. But they can't know you're involved."

"It's a little late for that." Emily motioned to the bandage on the back of her neck. "I think it's safe to say they know."

"But they don't know to what extent you're involved. From the outside it looks like you're the one taking charge in the actual investigation. And I'll just be playing their game."

"I need some time to wrap my head around this." Emily rubbed her temple, her head throbbing from the stress of the day. "Marco almost died. Toby and I were shot. This person has moved beyond dangerous. And I don't want you to walk into their clutches."

"It might be our only way." Alison pulled up the text app and unlocked the message the copycat had sent claiming responsibility for the shooting. "They're not slowing down."

"God, who is this sick bastard?" Emily stared at the message in horror. She glanced at Alison's response. "What did you mean I'll be in touch?"

"I don't know yet. I just want them to think it's between me and them, which is why I told them I'll play. I don't want anyone else getting hurt. It's their move now." Alison frowned. "Unless we can make one first."

"This is..." Emily leaned back, suddenly sick to her stomach, "it's a lot."

She closed her eyes to fight back the nausea. But in the dark she saw herself drowning in Marco's blood.

Her eyes shot open, her entire body trembling.

She felt something warm against her leg and she looked down to see Duke leaning against her. Alison had her hand on Emily's cheek.

"You saw it, didn't you?" Alison knew what a flashback episode looked like. "The moment he was shot?"

"It was so terrible." Emily choked up.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Alison asked.

"I'm not ready." Emily shook her head.

"Whenever you are, I'm here." Alison squeezed her hand.

Emily smiled at her. They leaned in for a kiss, but the doorbell interrupted them.

Ugh, this delivery person has the worst possible timing.

Alison went to get their food, tipping the awkward teenager at the door even though he'd interrupted their moment.

They settled in to eat, though neither one of them had much of an appetite. Both of them were glued to their phones, waiting for any news on Marco's condition.

Emily stared at the container of her food, shoving it around with her fork.

Ground up red pepper juice oozed down the side of the take-out container.

She watched as it transformed into blood. She heard the crack of the gun and felt hot liquid coating her face. She heard Toby screaming. She felt Marco thrashing underneath her hands.

She dropped her fork and shoved the food away abruptly.

"Emily?" Alison looked up at her in alarm.

Emily started breathing rapidly as the sound of gunfire ripped through her her mind. Marco's blood. Toby's blood. Her blood. Duke cowering. The terrified look on Marco's face.

Blood.

The blood was everywhere. She looked at her hands and they were covered in it again. She tried to wipe them clean, but it was stuck to her.

Alison scrambled on the couch to get closer to her. The barriers that Emily had put up to protect herself came crashing down. The brunette put her hand against her chest and started rubbing it to try and stimulate her breathing, but there was a chokehold in her throat preventing her from doing so.

"It's okay, Em. Let it out." Alison caressed her cheek.

She watched as her wife's face twisted in agony. Her jaw fell open and a horrible moan came out. Then the tears started falling as she sobbed uncontrollably. She fell into Alison's embrace. She had seen some terrifying things on the force, but she'd never been that close to something so violent before. She'd never looked a man in the eyes as he pleaded with her not to die.

"I thought he was going to die in my arms." She gasped for breath.

"I know." Alison kissed Emily's shoulder. "I know. Me too."

I thought he was going to die on my table.

She wiped Emily's tears away. Emily's pain was always a catalyst for Alison's anger. This time was no exception.

Fucking psychopath.

You made my Emily cry. You broke my beautiful wife.

I'm going to break your neck for this.

"I thought I was going to watch him and my best friend and Duke all die." Emily looked down at her shaky hands. She could still see the blood.

"You're okay. You're all going to be okay, Emily."

Please stop crying. My heart can't take it.

My love. My soul. My sweet sweet Emily.

Alison's voice was filled with such genuine kindness and compassion that it sparked a whole new wave of anguish in the brunette. The last time she'd cried this hard was after Maya died.

"Shhh, it's okay." Alison tried not to let on that her heart was broken, too. She knew she had to be strong for Emily.

They had to be there for each other.

The emotions were overwhelming...for both of them.

This bastard had made her wife break down. She was sharpening her tools in her mind. Emily had always been her rock. Seeing her in shambles made her feel murderous. Her bloodlust was hard to contain.

Emily eventually tired herself out and dozed off on the couch. Alison covered her with a blanket and leaned down to kiss her forehead. She glanced at Duke and whispered for him to stay and guard her.

She needed to deal with what she was feeling now. Or what she wasn't feeling. Or what she was supposed to feel. She wasn't sure.

Just hours ago she'd had her hands covered in Marco Furey's blood. The same Marco Furey who had spent her entire life showing her nothing but kindness.

She slipped off towards the attached garage and walked inside. She looked at a wall of boxes. Most of it belonged to her aunt. She hadn't kept much from her childhood, but there was one thing in particular she could never find in her heart to part with.

She started digging through the boxes until she found the little stuffed dog Marco had gotten her for her ninth birthday.

She inhaled a shuddering breath and closed her eyes, hugging it to her chest. She sank to the ground. For a brief moment she was a child again. She was alone in her bedroom cuddling the dog because Pepe was outside on a walk with her aunt. She remembered feeling something in that moment. Feelings that she'd buried so deep she thought she'd never feel again. But for a brief moment, it was there...love.

She felt a burning wetness oozing through her closed eyes. When she opened them back up, tears streamed down her face. She cried for her childhood. For her brother, who'd died protecting her. For her aunt, whom she'd had a hand in helping die. For Pepe, who had made it to fifteen, but couldn't go on any longer. And for Marco...for the only man in her life who showed her compassion and decency.

A good man.

An honorable man.

A man who may have assassinated the original NAT club to protect her. If it was true, he'd gone to great lengths. Even if it wasn't true she trusted his word when she was a child. And it had made her feel a little better. It had been the catalyst in integrating her into a world where she learned to blend in...where to mimic emotions and make friends like Riley, Naomi, and Nick. To have a normal life, despite the fact that she was the furthest thing from normal. It had given her a life, attachments. If she had remained isolated what would have become of her?

"Ali?" Emily's soft voice carried through the air in a light echo as she walked into the garage.

She heard Duke's toenails tapping against the concrete. He'd probably led Emily to her. Alison didn't want Emily to see her like this. So weak. So...human. She tried to wipe the tears away, but more came.

"Marco got this for me when I was a child." She slowly looked up as Emily approached her, stuffed dog still in hand. "It looks like my old dog, Pepe. He told me that I would feel safer when I had him with me. And I did."

Alison glanced at the mess she'd made. She knew what it must look like. Boxes ripped from selves, old pieces of her childhood slung everywhere.

"I had forgotten." Alison stared at the stuffed animal in her hands.

"Forgotten what?" Emily sat down beside her.

Duke sat next to her.

"How much he actually cared about me." She stroked the faux dog. "I took it for granted."

"You didn't know how to connect." Emily reached out and put her hand on Alison's arm. "It's understandable."

"Is it?" Alison wasn't so sure.

There was a pause and then Emily moved her hand off of her arm and on to her cheek.

"You'd convinced yourself you couldn't feel anything." She wiped Alison's face clean.

"I did." Alison sighed, staring at Emily's puffy red eyes from her own tears.

Another pause.

Emily looked at her curiously.

"What's it like?" Emily questioned. "Not being able to feel?"

"The lack of emotional connection to other people has an odd way of making you feel like an outsider...like you're just separate, observing humans from somewhere else. Unattached...unwelcome." She'd felt it for so many years that she was able to vocalize it without thinking.

Emily's heart ached for her.

"What do you feel now?" Emily touched her hand.

Alison thought of the man who had saved her life when she was a child and how he was lying helpless in a hospital bed.

"Um...hurt." Her voice quivered. She took a breath to center herself and blew out an angry huff. "Pissed." She blinked slowly. "So pissed. This should have never happened. I should have found this psychopath that night you caught me at the safehouse. I knew they were waiting. I knew it had to be a trap. But I let my fucking urges drive that night."

"Alison, you spent years of your life operating a certain way. You couldn't have predicted this. And you can't prevent what you can't predict." Emily said softly.

"I don't know how to live with this...this pain. I hate it." She looked at Emily. "I hate what it's done to me. It's so much worse than feeling nothing at all."

"It won't always feel like that." Emily caressed her arm. "Trust me, I did my fair share of shutting down and numbing myself to the world around me after Maya died. It hurts when you let it in, but it's not forever."

"Doesn't feel that way. And I'm constantly torn between these stupid goddamn crying jags and wanting to murder people." Alison didn't hold back. She'd promised complete honesty. "I want to kill this person, Emily. I want them to suffer. I want their fucking head on a pike. I've never displayed someone like that after a kill. But I want to do unspeakable things to this person."

Emily paused, looking at her wife in a thoughtful way.

"I get that." She replied, peering into Alison's eyes. "I feel the same way."

"You do?" Alison was surprised to hear it.

"I've been thinking about it a lot lately." She'd been struggling with losing herself to the madness, but it was the only way.

Alison saw the conflicted emotions in her eyes.

"I haven't even asked how you are doing." Shame washed across the blonde's face.

"You have. You've been taking care of me for weeks now." Emily touched her knee.

"Not that." Alison shook her head. "About how you're dealing with this psychopath being after us. I've been so wrapped up in my own shit..."

"Don't do that." Emily frowned. "Don't belittle yourself just because you think you're not doing enough. I'm sitting here telling you that you're doing enough. You're enough." Soft hands reached out, palms gently cupping Alison's cheeks. "I know you feel like you have a lot to atone for, but I chose you, Alison. I chose you because I love you. I don't want you to change for me. I only want to keep you safe."

More tears trickled down Alison's face, striking Emily's fingers. She'd been terrified of losing Emily since the moment she realized she loved her. Alison had gone to gone to great lengths to protect her. It turned out that all she had to do was love her back.

"Do you want to go back inside...talk some more?" Emily suggested.

"I need to clear my head first." She wiped her nose against her sleeve. "I'm still processing everything. I don't know where my mind is right now."

"On vacation if it's smart." Emily fired back with a smile.

Alison laughed softly.

"What do you need?" Emily asked seriously. "What can I do to help?"

"I don't know. Maybe..." Alison paused, "Maybe time. Maybe just time to process."

"I can do that." Emily stood up and reached for her hand. "Come on, let's go back inside."

Alison glanced at the stuffed dog again. She gently put it back in the box where she'd found it and closed the lid, knowing that the dog would always be there. It was a comfort in her mind.

She took Emily's hand, letting the brunette pull her to her feet. They walked back inside, locking the door behind them.

Emily went to get changed for bed and Alison walked towards the bathroom to take a shower. Duke looked between them, uncertain of who to follow. He made up his mind after a few seconds and determined that Alison needed him more. He laid down outside the bathroom door while Alison turned the water on. The blonde smiled sweetly at him.

"You're such a good boy." She leaned down and kissed his head. "I think you and my Pepe would have really gotten along."

Duke's tail thumped against the ground.

After she peeled her clothes off she stepped into the steaming hot shower. The spray of the water hit her back and she could feel her muscles relaxing. She closed her eyes, trying to let the heat soothe her.

She let her tears fall, hoping they would take the emptiness with them as they swirled down the drain. She felt so lost. She willed herself to melt into the water and let it carry her away as it ran down the pipes. Because she couldn't take being torn between rage and heartache.

Feeling things was so new to her. She didn't understand how to make the tears stop. And not knowing how to make it stop made her angry, which only made her cry tears of rage. It was a vicious cycle. It made her feel like punching a wall.

She heard a noise and saw the outline of her wife's body walking into the bathroom. After a few seconds, Emily poked her head into the shower.

Heat surged through Alison when she saw Emily stepping into the shower behind her. Emily took a moment to appreciate Alison's body. She was wet and warm, glowing from the soapy mixture on her skin.

Emily lifted her hand and tucked a damp strand of blonde hair behind her wife's ear, and a shy smile formed on her face. Alison's hungry look nearly drove her to her knees.

Alison reached up and ran her soapy hands over Emily's chest, triggering intense sensations to ignite within the brunette. Alison's touch sent shivers through her. Her chest rose and fell on a strained breath.

Alison slid her hands down to her hips and then slowly moved behind her, massaging her shoulders, looking at her fading bruises. She observed the graze from the gun, which had finally stopped bleeding and was scabbing over.

She had come close to losing her. Again...

...if not for Marco Furey's heroics.

Soap bubbles dotted Alison's skin as she moved in front of Emily again. Her eyes traveled down to the brunette's chest, noticing her nipples standing erect, drawing her hands to them. She teased Emily's slick silky breasts.

Emily reached up, tracing her thumb underneath what she assumed to be remnants of tears. Her eyes were puffy and red. She kissed the blonde's forehead.

Alison melded her body against Emily's and they held each other under the stream of water until it turned tepid.

They dried off and walked into the bedroom. Duke was sleeping at the foot of the bed on the floor.

Emily put on an oversized night shirt. Alison grabbed a silky gown that opened in the front. She tied it closed.

She turned to face Emily, moving towards her. She wasn't sure what to do next, and she sensed the awkwardness. Feeling things...crying...it made things very strange for her. She wasn't used to showing her vulnerabilities, even to her wife.

Emily didn't hesitate. She reached out and embraced her in her arms. Alison nuzzled against her and breathed in her scent, her head on Emily's shoulder.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, swaying gently.

Then Emily pulled away and carefully guided her to the bed.

The brunette laid next to Alison as they faced each other. Emily ran her hand along her cheek, letting it come to rest, her thumb against the edge of her lips. She moved forward to kiss her. It was long and sensuous and it made the blonde shudder with desire.

More.

I need more.

She ran her foot along the inside of Emily's calf and felt her body tremble in response. Emily exhaled a shuddering breath into their kiss. Her lips met Alison's with more force before slowly moving to peck the edge of her lips and pepper her jawline with kisses. Her hand moved towards the thin lace tie holding Alison's robe closed.

"It's been a hell of a day." Alison murmured as she arched her neck to give Emily more access. "Are you sure you want to?"

"I'm sure." Emily tugged her robe open and laid her palm against Alison's stomach. "I need you." She nibbled against her neck.

Alison didn't need to hear anything else. She passionately gripped Emily's cheeks, careful to avoid the injury on her neck. Their lips met again with a frenzied need. Alison helped Emily out of her nightshirt.

"Should have just skipped getting dressed and gone right to this." Emily laughed as the blonde threw the shirt against the ground.

It nearly landed on top of Duke. Both women giggled as they watched him sit up and glance back at them. He stood up and walked towards the cracked bedroom door, like he knew exactly what they were about to do. He glanced back at them again as if he was telling them to have fun, go on you horny lovebirds. Get your freak on. He stood there for a second, judging them.

He nosed the door open and laid down outside in the hallway.

"Did the dog just tell us to get a room?" Alison snickered.

"What a chivalrous boy." Emily laughed.

"I think he winked at us when he left." Alison turned her attention back to Emily.

Most of her bruises were completely gone, but a few lingered. The first thing Alison did was swing her legs over Emily's hips and lean down to kiss the small brownish-purple spot on her ribcage. She felt Emily threading her fingers through her wet hair.

"I'm still sore, so be gentle." Emily cupped her cheek.

Alison nodded, kissing her lips gently, then slowly moving down to kiss her body. She took her time, tasting her, feeling her warmth. Appreciating the fact that she was still alive.

Their love-making wasn't about control. It was about comfort. There was something about trauma and loss that sparked the need to be as close as possible. They wanted to savor every moment.

Alison nudged Emily's thigh's apart and rubbed her body against Emily's as she captured her mouth in another bruising kiss. It started slow, but turned fiery after a few seconds. Emily plunged her tongue into Alison's mouth, teasing her.

Alison pushed Emily's hands above her head, watching her carefully to make sure she wasn't pushing too hard. A smile that was a mixture of hunger and lust told Alison that she wanted her, so she clutched Emily's hands above her head and trailed kisses down her neck, tasting the sweet salt on her damp skin.

Emily tried to tug her hands free.

"Alison, please, I need to touch you." She uttered out a shaky breath as she bathed in the sensation of Alison circling her tongue around her nipple.

Alison let her hands go and Emily reached up and cupped her breasts, gently caressing them in her palms.

Alison took a heaving breath and arched her head back, a smile of ecstasy on her face. Emily always knew the exact amount of pressure to use to drive her wild. She leaned down and buried her face in Emily's chest, moaning against her breast as Emily moved her fingers between their bodies.

Emily's hand stopped on her chest...right over her heart.

"I only feel it beating when I'm with you." Alison lifted her head and closed her eyes as Emily's hand lingered on her chest. She opened her eyes and peered into the dark brown lust-filled eyes staring back at her. "It's yours. It's been yours since the moment we met. My heart belongs to you."

Without saying a word, Emily reached for Alison's hand and guided her fingertips over the scar on her chest.

"Mine is only beating because of you. You saved my life."

In exchange for your soul... Alison bit her lip, her eyes darting to the side. I threw mine away and stole yours...

"Hey, don't look away." The brunette's soft warm palm brushed against the side of Alison's neck. "You think you don't have a soul?"

How the hell did she guess that?

"You have the most complex...amazing...beautiful soul I've ever seen. It's there. I see it in your eyes. So don't look away."

Alison watched as Emily moved her fingertips down her torso. She reached up and put one hand on Emily's cheek as she slid her other hand down over her hip and in towards her thigh.

She wanted to be looking at Emily when they connected. She liked how it made her feel, not only for her own personal pleasure, but because she liked to make Emily feel good. She pressed a kiss against Emily's cheek and whispered against her ear.

"Your touch is the only thing in this world that I understand, Emily." She let out a breathy sigh. "The only thing that makes sense to me." She felt her entire body tremble when Emily moved in her. "I love you." She lifted her head and watched Emily as she mirrored her motions.

She felt Emily's chest rise and fall with hers in tandem. Alison tried to hold most of her body weight off of her since she knew her chest and abdomen were still sore.

"I love you, too." Emily huffed into their kiss.

As they pushed their nightmare of a day away they experienced a rare moment of pure pleasure. Just long enough to forget the pain.

They stayed wrapped up in one another all night, cradling one another, holding each other.

Despite that fact, neither of them slept well.

Dreams about Marco being shot plagued Emily. Dreams about him crashing on the surgery table plagued Alison.

It wasn't until a phone chimed loudly in the morning that they both jolted awake, each reaching for their phones. Alison was terrified she'd get a call about Marco not making it, but her phone wasn't the one ringing.

Emily pulled the bedsheet around her as she sat up.

"This is Fields," she answered.

"Detective Fields?" Emily didn't immediately recognize the voice on the other end. Then she remembered she'd heard it yesterday.

"Chief Drake." Emily realized.

"Call me Cece." Her voice was kind and smooth and calming. She appreciated that, but she also didn't trust her, because she wasn't Marco.

She didn't know much about the Interim Chief. Just that she'd moved from California to DC when she was starting her career. She'd ended up in Rosewood because she was a friend of Chief Furey. Her brother had served in the army with him. Marco had saved his life overseas.

"How are you feeling?" Cece asked.

"Better." Emily reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. "Didn't get much sleep though."

When she looked back at Alison she saw a sultry smile on her face. Part of her felt guilty for having sex while Marco was fighting for his life. The other part of her had needed it to heal. Alison's love was the only thing that gave her comfort.

"I imagine sleep was an issue for a lot of people last night. Everyone is on edge," Cece said.

"I bet. So, what can I do for you, Chief?"

"Well, I wanted to see if you could come to the station. You know the importance of witness testimony. I'd like to see if we can piece together exactly what happened. I've already spoken to Toby Cavanaugh. He confirmed he wasn't sure where the shots were fired from or who might have fired them. I'd like to see if you have anything to add. Are you up to it?" Cece asked.

"I'd like to, but I want to check in on Marco...Chief Furey...first." Emily rubbed sleep from her eyes.

"I get updates on him every twenty minutes from the guards stationed outside his door. His condition is still the same. They're going to try and ween him off the ventilator later today," she said.

"Oh." It was disappointing to hear that he still wasn't up. She was worried about his prognosis.

She looked at Alison.

"I'll check on him," the blonde said quietly.

Emily nodded.

"Give me about an hour to shower and get ready." She certainly couldn't go in and talk to the Interim Chief with sex wafting off of her like a bodily perfume and messy bedhead.

"Thank you. I promise not to keep you long. I know you were injured yourself."

"It's just a scratch." Emily touched the scab on the back of her neck, which could have been a lot worse.

"I'm referring more to the car that hit you a few weeks ago."

"Never a dull moment." Emily grit her teeth. "I'll see you in a little while."

"Detective Cavanaugh said he'll come pick you up since you haven't been cleared to drive yet."

"See you then."

She hung up and fell back into the bed next to Alison, grumbling under her breath. She liked being next to her wife. She knew that she was safe beside her, which was an oxymoron. A cop safe with a serial killer.

"What's wrong, grumpypants?" Alison rolled to her side, leaning on her elbow. She walked her fingers up Emily's arm.

Emily smiled and pulled Alison into a hug. She kissed her head.

"I have to go in for debriefing and to make a statement. The Interim Chief wants to talk to me herself." She pulled back and looked at Alison.

"If she interrogates you I'll beat her up." Alison scowled, looking every bit as intimidating as a kitten, though Emily knew she could do much more damage than it looked like she could.

Still, beating her up was an improvement over wanting to murder her.

"You sound like Aria." Emily chuckled.

"Do you thinks she knows the cases are linked?" Alison asked.

"She didn't indicate that she did. And she didn't mention anything about bringing in the FBI. No one died, so they'd have no reason to get involved." Emily threw her arm over her forehead.

Their lives were so much more complex than she'd ever thought they'd be.

"You know...you don't have to go in." Alison massaged her arm with her palm. "I'm sure they'd understand if you need time."

She couldn't help but think about how mere hours ago Emily had completely lost it in their living room. She wasn't sure the brunette was ready to go in and relive it.

"I have to do this. For Marco. For us. I have to see what is going on at the station. And I've got to talk to my forensics guy." Emily turned towards Alison. "Are you going to the hospital this morning?"

"I planned on it, yeah." She nodded.

"Have Aria come get you. I don't want you out there alone." She sat up against the edge of the bed, trying to work the kinks out of her neck. "And you'll call me the second you know anything about Marco?"

Alison leaned across the bed and kissed the back of her bare shoulder.

"Of course." Alison let her lips linger. "I'll look out for him."

Emily turned around, straining to swivel her shoulder.

"Promise me you won't do anything else about the copycat. Let me see if my guy in the Lab came through for me."

"We're in this together." Alison reached out and touched her hand. "I'll wait for you."

Alison hated that Emily was in danger, and what's more she had put her in that danger...the moment they met. She knew she was poison, but like a natural predator in the wild she hadn't been able to help herself from luring the brunette in.

But that was then. Things were different now. They were a team. They were stronger together. Emily had a line on information and Alison had the experience. Together, they were going to stop the menace terrorizing their town...or die trying.

o ~ O ~ o

There was crime scene tape up around outside the station. It blew softly in the breeze.

Cones were scattered around, marking evidence. The pavement was still stained with Marco's blood. A stand had been set up with red yarn extending into the ground where the point of impact had occurred. The forensics team had been hard at work trying to pinpoint where the shooter had been set up.

Emily couldn't look away from the blood-drenched pavement. Several drops that were distant from Marco's stood out to her. She knew it was her blood.

She felt herself slipping into the very same darkness she was trying to protect Alison from. Because she wanted to torture and kill whoever had done this. But she had to make sure the police didn't find them first.

"Try not to look." Toby guided her towards the front door.

Toby took Duke into his office as Emily walked down the hallway to the Chief's office. The door was cracked, so she gently knocked on it.

"Detective Fields!" She saw Cece waving her in.

It was surreal to walk into Chief Furey's office and see a tall young blonde woman sitting in his place.

Chief Drake wasn't the only one in the room. Emily saw the two FBI agents, Agent Gellman and Agent Miranda, who had been working the Scarlet Letter Killer case standing beside the Chief's desk.

"Emily, how are you?" Cece asked sympathetically as Emily walked in and closed the door behind her.

"Uh...still a little shaken, but I'm okay." Her eyes slowly tracked between the Interim Chief and the agents.

"Why don't you have a seat?" Cece motioned to the empty chair.

Emily didn't want them to think she was uncomfortable, so she did what was asked of her.

"First and foremost, I want you to know that this department takes mental health very seriously. The Psychologist is open to you at any time..."

"Thank you." Emily feigned a smile. "I'd already been going since the hit and run. Guess I'll just add it to my tab." She attempted humor, but no one in the room smiled.

Tough room.

"You look surprised to see us here," Agent Gellman shifted his belt, wiggling his badge a bit.

"I am, actually." Emily admitted. "This is a mass shooting with no casualties...thankfully."

"That's true, but we're looking at every angle to make sure this doesn't tie back in with the active serial killer case. Serial killers do crazy things when they're desperate," he replied.

"Yeah, but this isn't this killer's MO. Trust me, Cavanaugh and I have been building the profile on the SLK for years. There are a lot of pissed off criminals in Rosewood..." Which had turned into Gotham City all of a sudden, "...that would love to see anyone who wears the badge six feet under."

"You seem so certain." Agent Miranda glanced at her curiously.

"I'm pretty sure whoever it was just fired indiscriminately." Emily tried not to let her nerves show, then again if there was ever a time to be nervous...it would be after being under fire. "They shot at Toby's dog for God's sake."

"Right." Cece glanced at the agents and then faced Emily. "What exactly was his dog doing here?"

"I brought him by." Emily rubbed her shoulder, working the sympathetic angle. "I've been cooped up from my previous injuries, and since Toby is working long hours he thought it would be a good idea for me to have some company."

"I've heard Detective Cavanaugh has been training him on his time off." Cece tented her fingers against her desk.

Emily couldn't figure out what her angle was.

Was she being interrogated or asked to give a statement?

"You'd have to ask him the specifics on that. I'm just playing dog-sitter." Emily played it off.

Agent Miranda jotted something down.

"Detective Fields, is there a reason you're being so elusive?" Agent Gellman asked.

"No. Of course not. I just wasn't expecting this. I mean, it's not a homicide..."

"You seem to have your guard up." Cece pointed out.

Marco can't wake up and get back here fast enough.

"This is just a new dynamic for me." Emily tried to think on her feet. "I'm used to Chief Furey being on the other side of the desk."

Pain flashed across her face. It was evident to everyone in the room that she was still shaken by watching Marco get shot.

"That's certainly understandable." Cece, breaking protocol, reached across the desk and gently patted Emily's hands.

"Chief..." The words felt wrong coming out of Emily's mouth. Marco was her Chief. "You'll have to forgive me. I'm dealing with a lot. It's barely been 24 hours since the shooting. Marco is still unconscious in the hospital. His blood is still out there on the pavement. So I'm sorry if I appear a little out of it. I was less than a foot away from him when some psychopath with a gun blew a hole in his neck."

"Of course." Cece nodded in sympathy. "You've been through a traumatic experience. I thought you might be prepared to give a statement, but I..."

"I'm prepared." Emily looked at the FBI agents and then back at Cece.

She knew she really had to sell the fact that she didn't believe the cases were linked, so she went through the shooting from the beginning. She gave no indication that there was a copycat out there.

"I appreciate the FBI following up on this and being so diligent." She bowed her head politely to the agents. "But the cases show no similarities. The SLK likes to take credit. They like toying with us...leaving things out in the open. Gifts for us. They don't commit the crimes out in the open. And the Scarlet Letter Killer has never used a gun. They prefer to be up close and personal to their victims. They like to watch the light go out in their victims' eyes." She tried not to think about Alison relishing in her kills. "They also don't make mistakes. And if they wanted us dead...we'd be dead. Not to mention there have been gaps in the SLK's kills. They've proven they know when to disappear."

The room was silent for a minute and then Agent Gellman nodded.

"I think Detective Fields is right." Agent Miranda agreed. "From what we know about the Scarlet Letter Killler, this doesn't look to be related. A serial killer is very different than a vigilante with a gun."

The copycat is both.

Which was why it was so easy to convince her fellow law enforcement officers otherwise.

"Have you all made any headway with the SLK case since I've been out? I only know bits and pieces that Toby has shared with me." She needed to know if they were still ahead of them.

"Another time, Detective Fields." Agent Miranda smiled. "You have enough to process right now. You just focus on getting better."

"Thank you."

At the very least she'd been able to throw them off Alison's trail.

After she was finished, Cece wished her well and let her go on her way.

She was going to go straight to the hospital to check on Marco, but she had one stop to make first.

She keyed into the forensics lab and made her way past a large examination table filled with baggies of evidence that still needed to be logged away. A few crime scene investigators were gathered around a microscope taking turns looking at something.

She made her way past a large room set up like a crime scene, a body outline in tape on the floor and synthetic blood spattered all over the wall.

She walked around the last corner and knocked on his cracked office door. He was staring at something under his microscope. When she walked in he swiveled on the stool so he was facing her.

The tall black man climbed to his feet, his lab coat falling down over his sides. When Emily had first met him, he was a care nurse at a mental institution. The institution was covering up patient deaths. He had helped with the investigation. He had gathered evidence, and that had been what led to shutting it down and moving the patients to a safer facility. After that, he had decided to change career paths, so Emily introduced him to the best forensics person she knew, Aria.

"Eddie Lamb...so, this is where you like to hide." Emily smiled at the forensics tech. He got out less than Aria, though when he did he kept in shape. He was pushing fifty, but looked thirty.

"Anything to get away from this crazy town." He gave her a soft smile. "I'm glad you're here. I've got something for you."

"Oh, is it something from the house?" She scooted next to him eagerly.

"No, afraid not. Nothing concrete anyway. I got a very messy partial, but nothing else."

Emily's heart sank, even though she knew it was a long shot.

"The tape was clean, except for traces of monomethyl-p-aminophenol hemisulfate." The words rolled off his tongue naturally.

Emily wasn't sure she could pronounce any of them if someone gave her lessons on it.

"What's that? Explain it to me like I'm a five year old." She glanced at the microscope.

"It's a chemical compound found in developing old photos. Not surprising a fleck from an image remained...and I picked it up after running it through one of my trusty machines that I won't even attempt to explain to you."

Emily laughed.

"So, why'd you get my hopes up?" Emily poked him.

"Because of this." He slid an evidence bag over to her.

Inside the bag there was a bullet.

"Is this from..." Emily licked her lips and swallowed.

"Yeah." He replied softly. "It was recovered from a car near where Cavanaugh was hit. A rush was put on it. I was able to pull a print. I thought I noticed a similar pattern, so I ran it against the partial. They were a match." He turned his computer screen towards her and pointed to the flashing screen. "Even more...there were traces of monomethyl-p-aminophenol hemisulfate on it."

"Holy shit." Emily knew they weren't Alison's prints on the bullets, so they had to belong to the copycat.

"What's more...there are oils found in certain gloves used for developing film...I found traces of what I believe to be that on the bullet."

"Eddie, you are a God." Emily looked at the report.

"Just a forensic tech who follows the science." He shrugged.

"If I wasn't gay I'd kiss you right now." She looked up at him.

They finally had some evidence to go on.

"Even if you weren't gay, I'm old enough to be your father, Fields. Don't be weird." He teased her. "I haven't told anyone yet since you asked me to use discretion. Plus, the evidence you obtained was illegal."

"This may sound weird, but...can you hold off on mentioning this? I'm working on a theory...and I have to be right before moving forward." Before I kill this psycho.

"You want me to sit on evidence that could point to the person who shot three cops?" he asked.

"Just for a little bit. It's...complicated. Really complicated." She reached for the file showing the matching prints and the information on the chemicals found.

"Cavanaugh know about this?" Eddie lifted a scrupulous brow.

"Just me." Emily bit her lip. She knew she was asking a lot of him, and giving him nothing to go on. "It's a matter of life and death."

"Just...be careful."

"I will, thank you." She scanned Eddie's report. "Can I have a copy of this?"

"Take it. It's yours." He lifted a finger up to his lips and zipped them shut. "As far as I know none of this exists."

"I owe you one." She pat his arm.

"You're the reason I have this job. You owe me nothing. If you hadn't introduced me to Aria I'd still be working in that mental institution. This was a far better career path. Less people. And it's quiet." He smiled.

It wasn't nearly as quiet as Eddie thought it was, but Emily didn't mind letting him think that. As they were closing in on the copycat they were certain to be faced with a perilous danger.

Marco had nearly been killed because of them. It was a wake-up call. Emily would do anything it took to protect the people in their lives, even if that meant lying to them, manipulating them...and even killing for them.

She was starting to understand the complexities of Alison's mind far more than she ever thought she could. And what's more...she was embracing it. She just had to hope that it didn't swallow her into a pit that she couldn't escape from.

*****

A/N: So, THAT'S where Eddie Lamb went! Deep breath. A lot happened here. A LOT. The trauma of the shooting, Spalison, Emaria, Hanna being the mom-friend, Alison and Emily showing each other their pain, opening up to each other...and trying to heal with intimacy, and learning to work TOGETHER. And a break-through on the case. So...yeah...a lot.

As always, be gentle about the intimate scenes.