The piercing ring of his cell phone woke him almost instantly. Grumbling, he fumbled around with one hand for the wretched little gadget.

"Hello?" he growled, sitting up and pressing the thing to his ear.

"Carlton." The voice was unusually high and panicked.

"Karen?" He sat up a little straighter. "What is it?"

"She's on the clocktower," Karen said in what could've been a horrified whisper. "She won't come down, Carlton."

He jumped out of bed, his head throbbing. "I'm coming. I'll be there as fast as I can.

"Good. Every second counts." Just like that, she hung up.

He snapped his phone shut and ripped his coat off of a bed post. He had seen this coming. They all had. Juliet O'Hara was a wonderfully strong and brave young woman, but even she had a breaking point. And apparently, she had finally reached it.

For weeks, they had all been worried about the young blonde detective. She started coming into work late, something she never did, and he caught her crying almost every day. Then, four days ago, she broke up with her boyfriend, Spencer; was constantly on edge, and burst into tears or blew up at the smallest of things.

"Dang, O'Hara," he muttered, swinging his door open and running down his stairs as fast as the laws of physics would allow him to.

He flew out of the front door, cursing as a fleet of raindrops hit him in the face like needle, and into the car, praying as he jammed the keys into the ignition. Praying that O'Hara would realize just how much she had to live for. Praying that he wouldn't be too late.

The ride usually took twenty minutes, and in the rain, thirty. It took him thirteen. He knew he had broken at least two traffic laws, but heck, that didn't matter anymore. Not when the light of his life was in jeopardy.

As soon as he pulled up, he saw her. She was facing the back of the tower where it was a direct drop to the ground. He realized with an odd sort of chill that she was wearing a pretty, light blue dress and- he could tell even from down here -silver high heels. She was standing on the very edge, her blonde hair raised in the wind in an eerie sort of way, her dress clinging to her body because of the rain. Her arms were raised gracefully as if she were about to take flight.

He realized with a surge of some feeling he couldn't place- maybe jealousy or unease -that Spencer was on the tower as well, standing a couple feet away from her, apparently talking to her. He reached to touch her shoulder and she yanked away, wobbling dangerously on her heeled shoes.

"Carlton, thank goodness," the Chief called, running up to his car at once. "You need to get up there now... we've got a team on the other side with a net, but you know those things don't always work." She sighed, looking up at the tower as he climbed out of his car. "Gosh, I've never seen her like this before. I've checked her records, and as I suspected, she doesn't have any mental history. I wonder what could've caused a breakdown like this, just out of the blue?"

"I really don't know, Chief." And we don't have time to wonder. He strode towards the tower, looking calm in spite of himself. As he walked through the doors, the only shelter from the rain, he saw Henry and Guster standing around nervously.

"Did you talk to her?" he asked instantly.

"I tried," Henry said wearily. "I was their first choice because I've done this before. It's bad enough when it's some random person off the streets acting all weird, but Juliet-" he broke off, staring at the ground.

"I haven't gone up there, but even from down here, she's scaring me," Gus interjected. "It's not like her. It's like her brain's breaking down or something."

"That's exactly what's happening," Henry said grimly, and, to Lassiter, "You better get up there now. Like I said, I've done this before. Talking psychos- I mean, people," he amended hastily, "down from roofs and buildings. She doesn't have much time left."

Just then, the elevator door opened and Spencer staggered out with his head in his hands.

"She won't listen to me," he croaked, slumping down on the ground. "I think she's gonna do it."

"You're gonna give up on her?" Lassiter shouted, startling everyone. "You can't give up on her, Spencer. If we're going to save her life- which we are -you can't just give up. She deserves better. If we need to give up the sun, moon, and stars to save her, we're going to do it!"

"Lassie, there's no hope." Spencer looked up with shining eyes. "She's gonna jump."

"Not if I have something to say about it," Lassiter snarled, shoving his way past Spencer and into the elevator. "I'll carry her down if I have to."

"Don't," Henry advised. "She might struggle and you could both fall. Touching her hands and stuff will help, but don't try to force her down.

"Gotcha." Lassiter jabbed the big button with the "R" emblazoned on it and the door closed, covering their anxious faces.

Oh, why couldn't the stupid elevator go any faster? She could've jumped by now. He whacked the button angrily, his panic increasing with every passing second.

Finally, a few excruciating minutes later, the door opened. He was in the gear room. He swung the door open, plunging bravely through it and into the rain, and found himself facing the giant clock face for the first time in three years.

The part of the building with the clock face on it was about twelve feet tall, give or take. There was a ladder leaning precariously against the wall, shining with rain, and he advanced up it, gripping the side so tightly his knuckles went white. The climb seemed to drag on forever, the top of the ledge never any closer than before- but finally, he could see her, just a couple yards away.

"O'Hara," he called, hoisting himself up onto the ledge. She glanced over her shoulder with a wild, dead expression in her eyes that gave him chills.

"Carlton," she said in an odd tone that he couldn't place.

Think, think, think, he told himself sternly. What was he supposed to say? He had never done this before. He didn't know how to coax her down. Henry had done this before, he said, so why hadn't he? Why was everyone so preoccupied with protecting people from other people when one of the biggest dangers was the person themselves?

"Why are you up here?" he asked helplessly, hearing the anxiety in his own voice.

"I didn't have anywhere else to go," she said listlessly and still staring out into the distance. "I don't have anyone to turn to."

"Yes, you do," he said, trying so hard to make his voice sound encouraging rather than panicked. "You have me. You can just come home with me right now, O'Hara, you don't have to do this-"

"I can't come home, Carlton," she said almost carelessly. "This is what I have to do to make things right."

"Don't be an idiot, O'Hara. This wouldn't make anything right. It would ruin everything," he said, struggling to keep his voice level. "You need to come with me and get the help you need."

"Don't say that!" she cried, turning to face him for the first time. "I'm not crazy! I don't need help!"

"Then why are you doing this?" he asked gently.

She looked at him, her eyes darting helplessly between each of his. "I- I-" She let out a shuddering sigh and sat down, crossing her legs. "If I tell you, will you listen?"

"Of course." He dropped to his knees so they were on eye level, wincing as he knelt down in small pools of water.

"Okay." She shifted her weight as if unsure where to start. "It all kinda started a year and a half ago, when Shawn and I starting dating."

Lassiter's heart sank. Of course. This was about Spencer. Everything was about Spencer. "Go on," he said.

"I was madly in love with him, Carlton, I was blinded by his attractiveness. I dumped Declan Rand, who was and still is one of the most decent men I've met, just so I could be with Shawn! And he was madly in love with me. Or at least," she closed her eyes, a single tear dripping down her face, "I thought he was."

She took a deep breath. "And so it went on. We dated, we flirted, we worked together. He flipped his hair around and solved every case we couldn't. I was enchanted by him. And you, you tried to make me see sense, but I didn't listen, Carlton!"

"I know, O'Hara," he said quietly.

"And I just found out-" she stood up, her words choked with a sob, "-he's been lying to me. Not just since we started dating, but since I met him! He's been lying to everyone, and he was so dreadfully in love with me that he couldn't bother to tell me the truth!" Her face, now a veritable waterfall, was full of pain and anguish and regret.

"And this is why you're doing this?" he tried to keep the surprise out of his voice.

"No," she sobbed, sparkling silver tears spilling out of her blue eyes, mingled with the fresh raindrops falling from the sky. "It's because I'm tired of being lied to by everyone. Shawn, Ewan, Frank, Lloyd- everyone who I've ever looked up to, everyone who ever cared about me. I'm tired of getting hurt. I don't want to get hurt anymore, Carlton!" She took a step towards the edge.

"But this isn't the answer!" he stood up and tried to pull her towards him. She pulled away, rocking dangerously on her high heels, and he quickly steadied her, remembering with a jolt what Henry had said. "You can't do this. O'Hara, you don't need to do this. If you die, I will too. I can't live without you."

"Yes, you can," she said, tilting her head to one side in a slightly impish way. "I think you'll be better off without me, actually."

He sighed in frustration. "O'Hara, listen," he implored. "You're an amazing person. You're an amazing cop. Really, I'd be lost without you!"

"Marlowe can take care of you. She's your wife," she said simply, and took another step toward the edge.

"No, no, no," he said quickly, his mind racing. "Marlowe's my wife, that's true. But you're my partner and my best friend."

"Partner is something you've been forced into," she stated mechanically, not turning to face him like she had before. "Best friend is a relative term."

"It's all relative, O'Hara!" he shouted, his anger spilling over. "All of it or nothing! You're my best friend, aren't I allowed to say that? Is it a crime if I care about you?"

"No, but if it was you'd be in cuffs right now," she snapped.

Another stab of panic hit his heart. Gentle, you have to be gentle, or she'll lose it, he told himself sternly.

He looked up at the sky. Please, please help me know what to say. Please help me save her.

He looked back at her, holding her gaze steadily. "You've been through a lot. I know that much. You had a loser father and a bad childhood, you came into a department of work where everyone doubted you, you've had romantic confusion, you've been nearly killed so many times, and you've been targeted specifically at least once. But," he added, "a lot of good things have happened to you. Your father did everything he could to earn your trust back, you've gained respect from almost every officer in the department, you had a blissful year in love with your boyfriend, and you've survived serial killers. If you jump, you throw all that down the drain. If you jump, you won't be harming just yourself. You'll affect your boyfriend and his father and his best friend and your family and me. I'm not Frank or Lloyd or Ewan or Spencer. I'm Carlton and I love you and I haven't let you down yet. I don't intend to."

Her shoulders relaxed and the only sound was the pitter-patter of the rain against the concrete.

"O'Hara, I almost lost you on this same building three years ago. Back then, it was at the hands of a serial killer. I don't want to lose you this time at your own hands," he said, taking a tentative step towards her as the rain soaked through his coat.

She turned back to him with a look of regret and pain in her eyes. "That's so sweet of you to say, Carlton," she whispered, "but I can't do this anymore. I'm tired of heartache. I'm tired of being left in the cold." She closed her eyes, preparing to fall backwards.

"No!" he shouted, grabbing her hand. She steadied herself but didn't open her eyes.

"Don't do this to me, Juliet," he whispered, his voice breaking on her name. "Don't do this to yourself. You can still make the right decision. It's not too late to come home."

"Home isn't there anymore," she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks again.

"Yes, it is," he choked, barely getting the words out, his eyes red and watery. "You can always come back to me. I'll always love you no matter what happens."

"What are you saying, Carlton?" she whispered, pushing a few strands of soaking hair out of her eyes.

"What I'm saying," he whispered back, and then turned away. He turned back, his chest heaving with emotion. "What I'm saying is, if you don't jump, I will welcome you back with all my heart. If you don't jump, I'll love you for the rest of my life and even after that. If you don't jump, I will do everything in my power to make sure you never get hurt again."

She stared at him in bewilderment. He held his arms open.

"Come home, Juliet."

Just like that, her face crumpled, and she fell to her knees sobbing. He pulled her to her feet and practically lifted her into his arms, holding her so tight she could barely breathe. She swayed back in forth in his arms, tears mingling with rain and running down her shoulders and off her fingertips. He was crying, too, something that was rarer than diamonds.

For a moment, he held her up by her shoulders, tears trickling down both their faces.

Then the tables turned.

He began to weep openly and fell towards her. She threw her arms around him, the two of them embracing and sobbing in the pouring rain.

"I am so, so sorry," she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder and rubbing soothing circles on his back with the palm of her hand. "I don't know what I was thinking. I'm so sorry, Carlton."

He didn't answer and sobbed into her shoulder. Eventually her tears slowed and she was left holding him with the rain falling down on their backs. Not at all embarrassed at his tears, he put both his arms around her and hugged her tight.

"I can't believe you were going to do that," he sobbed, his entire body shaking. "I can't believe it. I can't believe you would do that to me. I just can't believe it."

The sincerity of his tears broke her heart and sent her into tears all over again. "I can't believe it either, Carlton," she cried, her lips right by his ear. "I'll never even think about doing it ever again."

They just sat there, both with broken hearts and broken souls, hugging tight in the hopes that their broken hearts would unite and become whole again. She cried softly into his shoulder and he sobbed into hers.

After a few minutes she started shivering and pulled away.

"It's so cold up here," she said quietly. "Can we go down?"

"Sure," he said wearily, brushing the last of the tears(but certainly not the last of the pain) out of his eyes. He took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders almost solemnly and took her hand, leading her to the ladder.

As they climbed down, there was no applause from below like in the movies. There was no great feeling that everything would be okay again. There was only a stunned, scared silence and a lingering sense of fear and what would come next.

He climbed all the way down and held his arms open to her as she advanced down the last few feet. She fell into his arms, almost knocking him over.

"Let's go," he said, putting a single strong arm around her shoulders and steering her towards the elevator.

They stepped into the elevator and let the doors close on them, locking out the world, locking out the clocktower, locking out what had just- or what might have -happened.

"Don't you ever do that to me again," he whispered, crushing her into his embrace. "If you pull a stunt like that again, I'll never forgive you."

"It wasn't a stunt," she whispered sadly, and put her arms around his neck.

"Then what was it?" he asked, looking at her with a miserable expression that broke her heart.

"I don't know, Carlton," she said, trembling dangerously as tears came back to her eyes. "I guess I was trying to take control of my life."

"By ending it?" He held her gaze with his soul-piercing blue eyes.

"I-" she whispered, and bit her lip.

He kissed her on the cheek. A few more minutes of silence, penetrated only by their quiet tears, passed by as they held each other, neither wanting to let go.

"It's gonna be okay, Carlton," she said at last.

He laughed grimly. "I wouldn't go there just yet, O'Hara."

Tears spilled out of her eyes and she buried her head into his shoulder, putting both her arms around him. He rocked her in his arms and stared at the little light on the elevator wall that moved as they passed each floor. Neither of them knew what to say to the other to fix the situation, to heal the wounds on each of their hearts.

That's because there weren't any words. Words couldn't fix something like this, and it wasn't going to be okay yet. Not now, not in a couple hours, not the next day. But once the healing began, and once they had time, things would be okay.

Eventually.