{trigger warning: death, murder, blood, guns, major character death}

"So, how are the kids?" Tyler asked while going through paperwork at the station.

Judah and Dallon seemed to be the least suspicious of him in their team, but Tyler wasn't going to take any chances. If Jenna and Brad already caught wind of his actions, as he suspected they had, then that meant the walls were closing in on him faster than he originally thought.

"Scarlet's fine. Lindsey and some of our neighbors took her and their kids to a water park in North Carolina for the weekend," Judah said, smiling solemnly at the police file in his hands.

"Don't worry, Akers, once we wrap this case up, you'll get to spend the rest of summer break with your family." Tyler grabbed his shoulder, and Judah sent him a startled look.

Brendon scoffed. "Did you really forget how to act like yourself?"

The best way to fly under the radar for as long as he could wad to act normal. What was Tyler's normal again? He didn't think it involved casual conversation and touching. Tyler took his hand off of Judah. "What about yours, Weekes?"

"They're little devils, that's what they are," Dallon joked. "My sister is taking them to our grandmother's house in Santa Monica next week. We're staying there and going to Universal the second this case is over."

"Hitting the ground running, huh?" Judah laughed.

"Yup. We haven't been on a proper vacation since- well, I think we've all earned it. Knox is in the thespian honors society and Amelie has a full ride into Emory University."

"Georgia?" Tyler inquired.

Dallon grinned proudly. "Yup. She and her girlfriend are already done with their senior year, they exempted all of their exams, the graduation is in two weeks. Knox is finishing up the last week of his sophomore year."

"You must be so proud of them," Judah patted his shoulder.

"Yeah." Dallon shook his head slightly, his smile faltering. "God knows the world hasn't been kind to us in the past couple years, but they're thriving in a way I didn't think was possible. I'm... I'm happy."

A sharp pain shot through Tyler's chest. Guilt, he assumed. He couldn't kill Dallon and leave those kids orphans. They already lost their mother, Tyler couldn't take their father too.

"You don't have a choice anymore," Brendon whispered in his ear.

He didn't have a choice anymore.

Someone called Judah's phone, and he left the room. Tyler saw this as an opportunity.

"Get him out of here," Brendon instructed. "Away from witnesses, then kill him and destroy the evidence."

"Hey, Weekes, I'm not feeling well," Tyler said, trying to add lethargy into his voice. He kept his eyes half open and he swayed just to make it believable. "I think the Prozac I'm on is making me drowsy. Can you drop me off at the hotel?"

"Yeah, of course." He started to be a his sequin suit jacket when Judah walked back in.

Immediately Tyler could see the betrayal and caution in his eyes that Jenna has had for weeks, if not months.

"He knows," Brendon said. "They all know. All of them, except for Dallon."

"That was Heaton." Judah stopped where he was, keeping his distance.

Tyler couldn't help it as one corner of his mouth curled up. "Any new leads?" He asked innocently.

"Not yet. There's no evidence." He was lying. Judah was a terrible liar. "They're doing a psychological analysis though, so it's a matter of time until we have a profile. Where are you going, Weekes?"

"Oh, Joseph doesn't feel so good, so I'm going to drop the kid off at the hotel."

"I can hold the fort until the other arrive. I'd tell Black so she doesn't get worried."

"Gotcha." He motioned for Tyler to follow him to the parking lot. Tyler looked back at Judah, winking, as he walked just behind Dallon.

On the ride to the hotel, Tyler started to devise a plan on how to efficiently kill Dallon in a way that guaranteed his prolonged escape. From where he stood, he didn't have much time left. The walls were closing in faster than he'd anticipated. He had to do something, and do it quick.

"What are we thinking?" Brendon's head popped up between the front seats, his face bloody and caved in on one side. "Stabbing, or maybe suffocation? If you shot him in the right place, you could make him suffer as long as you wanted."

Dallon's phone ringing broke Tyler out of his concentration. "Yello? Oh, hey sister from the same mister. How are Knox and Amelie? No, I'm just driving Tyler to our hotel. Wait, really? Damn, that sucks. Okay, I'll pass by and check real quick. No problem. Alright, love you. Bye."

"Your sister?" Tyler guessed.

"Yup. Apparently someone broke into the house last night and she wants me to check and make sure nothing was stolen. You mind if we take a detour?"

Brendon propped his chin on his hand, drawing bloody shapes on the glove compartment with his finger. "Not. At. All."

Tyler slowly grinned and shook his head. "Not at all."

The Victorian house was in good condition for how old it seemed to be. Its white paint on the outside had began peeling away from the white oak wood, the porch creaky but solid. There weren't any neighbors for miles. Tyler concluded that it was a good place to die.

Dallon unlocked the front door when his phone rang again. He groaned dramatically and sent Tyler an apologetic look.

"Sorry, Ty, but it's Jenna. I have to answer."

Tyler's blood turned to ice as he watched Dallon walk into the house ahead of him, blissfully ignorant to Tyler's intentions.

"He's going to find out," Brendon sang, making Tyler's skin crawl. "It's now or never."

"Talk to me dirty, Black. Wait, what? Yeah, there was a match for the blood but I haven't checked it. My computer's in my car. What are you talking about?"

Tyler pulled his gun out from its holster, clicking the safety off as quietly as he could so he didn't alert Dallon. He stepped into the foyer and gently closed the door behind him.

"Woah, woah, slow down, Bo Peep. What're you trying to say? Dangerous? Sociopath? There can't be any evidence, he would never do something like that. Tyler, what about him. Is he with me? He's-"

Dallon froze in the walkway a few feet ahead, his back to Tyler. With every second that passed, the air went a hair colder. Tyler knew exactly what Jenna was telling him.

"Do it. Shoot him," Brendon egged him on.

His hand was shaking. Was he scared? He shouldn't be. It must've been the nerve damage in his hand, that was all.

"You're out of time!" Brendon's voice boomed in his mind, shaking his skull. Tyler gasped, his body suddenly moving on its own. His hand raised the gun to point at the square of Dallon's back.

"Ty-" Slowly, Dallon turned, and before he could finish saying his name, Tyler pulled the trigger, the gunshot echoing through the vacant family home.

Dallon crumpled like a goddamn paperclip.

A blast of dark, dark red exploded from his back, and he stumbled back a few steps. Blood started to soak through the front of Dallon's turtleneck. He dropped to his knees, his left hand hovering over the hole in his chest while the other caught him as he fell. Dallon looked up with wide, shocked eyes, as if his mind couldn't comprehend what was going on.

Suddenly, all the satisfaction Tyler thought he would feel gave way to raw dread crawling its way from the bottom of his stomach up to his throat. He kneeled in front of Dallon, holding him up with a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, dropping the gun to keep Dallon steady with both hands. Tyler pried the phone from Dallon's shaky fingers and hung up on Jenna's screaming.

The color left Dallon's skin as he tried to talk, maybe to ask Tyler why he was doing this, but all that came out was a hushed groan of mortal terror. That sound, the guttural, mortal sound Tyler heard so many of his other victims make before, now felt like metal nails on a chalkboard coming from Dallon.

He flinched when Dallon wheezed and blood splattered against his lips, Tyler's initial fear of getting caught now replaced with the horrific realization that he just shot one of his best friends in cold blood.

His team was onto him, closing in on him, and he knew that. Tyler had to kill him. Dallon held all of the evidence tying Tyler to the crime scene in his computer. This guilt he felt wouldn't last. There was no reason to feel this way.

Right?

"W... why?" Dallon choked out, the words barely comprehensible. His bloody hand gripped the front of Tyler's shirt.

Tyler didn't know how to respond, not because he was taken aback but because he truly couldn't recall the reason behind this. There had to have been a reason. Yet he couldn't remember, and he hated not remembering.

"I wish it could've ended another way," was Tyler's meek reply, smiling tightly. "I am so fucking sorry."

Dallon's head dropped slightly and he tried to grab at his throat before finally slumping into Tyler, lifeless. Tyler felt tears run down his face, but he didn't feel grief. The overwhelming sorrow he should've been feeling shattered like thin glass. He knew what it was supposed to feel like, but a faucet had drained all of his emotions out, pouring down on the floor like Dallon's blood.

Tyler put his arm around Dallon's neck, cradling the lifeless corpse until he felt him go cold. The persistent ring of the telephone started to annoy him, so he picked up Dallon's phone and threw it against the wall. He hated the shatter but loved how it stopped the ringing.

It was too late to go back and try to explain to his team what happened if they caught him. They already knew about the things he'd done. Tyler killed Dallon vacuously- and now, he had to pray the price. For some reason, that didn't bother him.

He felt relieved not to have to hide anymore. His sins were out in the open, just like everybody else's.

Tyler set Dallon's corpse on the hardwood floor, closed his empty eyes, and ran into the backyard, hopping the fence and immediately being lost in the blackness of the woods, running until his legs couldn't take him anywhere anymore. He collapsed in the forest, tumbling down a steep hill. Rocks and branches scratched and scrapped his skin on the way down.

Both physically and mentally exhausted, Tyler forced himself back to his feet. He didn't remember what happened between when he got up.  he woke up sitting at the bottom in the shower, washing away any hint of mud and blood from his scarred skin. The gun was on the counter.

Brendon was nowhere to be seen.

He laughed, rubbing his hands over his face. "Oh, God. Fucking finally. He's gone. Brendon's gone, for good this time."