A/N: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter - I have GCSEs at the moment and so my time's been taken up by that. I felt bad, however, for leaving this for so long, so I figured I'd just put up what I have so far. Sorry for the shortness and delay!

And even though I've genuinely not had the time to respond to reviews personally, as soon as all this is over I'll make time and I'll just say right here for now how grateful I am for all the kind words you've left me :D

... Ok this has to be the most serious, grown up sounding A/N I've ever written o.O

Enjoy (=

Nee naw, nee naw, nee naw.

That grating pitch. That repetitive noise.

Nee naw, nee naw, nee naw.

How could they stand it?

Nee naw, nee naw, nee naw.

That piercing shriek continuously tore through my mind stabbing the swirling mist with a more stabbing effect than any dagger.

Nee naw, nee naw, nee naw.

Believe me, I know.

Nee naw, nee naw, nee naw.

The detective turned back to throw a glance at me over his shoulder. There was some quality in him that I couldn't quite place. Something.

Nee naw, nee naw, nee naw.

I vaguely realised I was staring at him, making him look a little uncomfortable. That infernal sound coupled with his face span with the mist causing my mind to form images of startling clarity.

Nee naw, nee naw, nee naw.

Nee naw, nee naw, nee naw.

"Nee naw, nee naw, nee naw!"

I shook my head, blotting out his voice. I didn't want to think of him now. Not after all this.

"Nee naw, nee naw!"

A three foot bundle of pure, glowing energy ran in incessant circles around my legs. Long as they were, they looked ridiculous next to my five-year-old son.

"Nee naw, nee naw, nee naw!"

Sensing a potential catastrophe at the speed in which he was zooming – I half expected to see a dust cloud forming behind him – I threw out my arms and caught him, lifting him high up to reach my face. The sudden lack of momentum seemed to pass him completely as he continued to try and run in my arms.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." I laughed, quickly alternating my grip to keep from dropping the poor kid.

He gazed up at me, his huge blue eyes meeting mine as he panted to catch his breath from his exertions. He produced a crumpled up piece of paper.

"Look daddy!" he squealed with excitement, "Look what I drewed!"

Smoothing it out best I could, whilst trying to maintain my grip on my squirming son, I smiled with amusement at what he had drawn, "A police car?"

He nodded frantically, "Yeah, yeah, yeah and," he poked a pudgy finger at the siren atop of the car's roof, "Look!" he declared proudly, "glitter glue! It makes it flash!"

I had to hand it to him, the idea was impressive. Tilting it into the light made the glitter sparkle as if it really were emitting a spinning, rouge light, "And who's this next to it?" I asked, pointing out the severely out of proportion character towering over the car.

He nuzzled his head into my shoulder, "It's me." He stated, as though it were obvious, "I'm a police dec... defect... det..." he screwed his little face up before settling on, "Defective."

"A police detective?" I corrected him.

"Um. Yeah."

I snorted and my son shot me a hurt look, "You'll need a hat..."

His eyes suddenly lit up once more like the glitter covering his blue polo, "Really?"

"Uh huh." I dropped him to the floor and he followed me closely all the way to the dining room. I had to be careful not to kick him. I dug through the drawers where we kept the table mats before pulling out a police man's hat from a Hallowe'en party the week previously.

He gave a squeak of delight and beamed as I placed it on his head.

My wife chose that moment to walk in. My wife. Even with her face screwed up in irritation, she was still the most beautiful thing I had ever laid my eyes upon. Pale and soft of skin with huge eyes of identical inquisitive cobalt of our son. I had studied her face, almost with fascination. Everything, from her dark, black curls, to something as intricate as her perfect, evenly spread eyelashes – long and widely set, highlighting her innocent and curious features. Sometimes, as she slept, I would study her – every last detail, down to the very last freckle lost in the light dusting across her cheeks – awed that she chose me.

"I just cleaned the carpet, guys!" she huffed in frustration, "Why is there glitter..."

She faltered and her face melted into a joyful beam that lit up her face as she saw her son in a policeman's hat, currently attempting to arrest me, appearing very threatening as he brandished his chosen weapon of a banana.

"And who are you meant to be?" she asked, laughter lilting her words as she knelt down to his level.

"He's a detective," I chuckled and he nodded furiously.

"Well," Mary grinned, "We should record your first arrest, shouldn't we?"

She stood up fluently, her skirt flowing and she picked up the camera from the dining room table.

I grabbed my son and sat him on my knee, poking my head out next to his, our grins equally stupid. Gripping the drawing, crumpled forgotten on the floor next to us, my boy displayed it proudly to the camera just as the flash popped.

The photo fell out of the camera into Mary's waiting hand, the little detective making wild grabs for it. Mary laughed and handed it to him. He took it abruptly and scrutinised it closely, his face inches from the paper.

His fingers left little swirls of red glitter glue across the print, adding a splash of colour to the black and white memory. Remarkably symbolic to the effect he had on our lives.

Red. Little did I know how much that would saturate my life in time to come.

Red. Like the saturated gauze pressed into Shawn's abdomen.

Red. Like the glue coating Lassiter's hand.




"Alright, Spencer. We're almost there."

Shawn shook his head with a grimace, "No I know... but weren't you supposed... to leave?"

Judging by the Paramedic's glare, I'm guessing he was.

Lassiter scowled, "Why? You want me to leave?" He started to extract his grip from Spencer's hand and prepared himself to move out of the way, but Shawn was having none of it. I wasn't sure if it was the desperate way in which he clung onto his colleague or the frightening half sob-half shout as he tried to sit up which made him stay, but either way he did.

"Sorry." He grunted. Spencer said nothing.