A/n: Third Trauma Center piece. Ah, the feeling of accomplishment. Hah! So, this is a bit different from my usual style, thanks to Rin-neechan, who felt as though I should angst it up a bit. So... an angsty Angie piece! Come on, you know Angie has to break sometime. Spoilers are present for chapter six of both versions, just so you know. Pretty much an Angie-centric. Should be fun, right?

Disclaimer: I've been poked by TCGeek and told to be angsty by Rin-neechan. Blame them. Oh, and Trauma Center is all property of Atlus. No suey me.

Chapter 1: All Fall Down

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Slipping her keys into the lock, Angela Thompson pushed the door to her apartment open with a weary sigh. Entering the dimly lit room, she tossed the ring of keys on the coffee table, shedding her jacket as she bypassed her small living room and moved into her equally tiny kitchen. Tossing her jacket over an oak chair, she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Today had been one of the most trying days of her entire life, and what she needed now was a strong cup of coffee.

Rummaging through the cabinets it took her only seconds to produce a can of ground beans and a filter. Filling the coffee pot, she turned it on to perk, leaning against the counter as the sound of brewing liquid trickled through her kitchen.

This was a rare occurrence in her nightly routine. Usually after a day at Caduceus she would return home, lounge about her apartment for bit and have a light supper before turning in for the evening. She wasn't a big fan of caffeine before bed- especially after a late shift. But today was different; there was no way she could sleep at the moment, despite the early morning hour.

Folding her arms, Angie lowered her head to the counter, cool granite pressing against her forehead. Had she known what had awaited her this morning, she would have probably just stayed in the bed. She loved her job and prided herself on her abilities as a nurse. Caduceus was a rewarding facility to work for and she had many good friends on staff. Though today had been difficult, both on a business and a personal level.

In all actuality, this entire month had been nothing but a strain. Delphi, the people responsible for the loathsome GUILT, the disease she had been combating for months, had broken into Caduceus near the beginning and infected a member of the staff with a new strain that had moved so swiftly it was a miracle Derek had been able to control it. Not only was her colleague infected by the terrible disease, her father, a man she hadn't seen since she was a little girl in grade school, had been the man who had plunged the needle in Cybil's leg.

From that moment on, her entire month had gone from relatively normal and contained to sporadic and combustible. Delphi had ran and sought refuge on a ship based in the Pacific Ocean. The military had soon found them and formed a raid team, one that included Derek Stiles, head doctor at Caduceus, and herself. Being on that ship, having members of Delphi all around her, knowing GUILT was lurking in every corner, had been nothing short of unnerving. Many members of the terrorist organization had been infected with their own disease and she and Derek had operated on countless faces. It hadn't been too difficult at first, despite their deeds. Angie had pushed past their cruel works and focused on the fact that they were human beings. It had gone smoothly in the beginning, but after they had found that GUILT-filled lab...

Lifting her head from the counter, Angie raked a hand over her face, trying to forget the scene playing in her mind's eye. Seeing dark liquid sitting silently in the coffee pot, she poured herself a cup, deciding that her current state of mind called for straight black. Moving over to the kitchen table she slumped into a chair, blond hair falling over her shoulders and green eyes burning a hole into her fresh cup of coffee. Fingers idly following the grain in her table top, Angie knew there was no sense in fighting the image knocking around in her head- it was there, and she doubted it would ever go away.

When she had walked onto that boat she had known she would find something. It was just a gut feeling. It was Delphi's headquarters; how could they not? She had been expecting something, but the sight that had greeted her when she stepped into that laboratory... It was so wrong. So senseless.

All those babies...

Elbows on the table, Angie dropped her head into her hands, staring down into her coffee cup.

Babies! Delphi had used children. They had used helpless little children to harvest their disease. Every single one had been under two years of age. They had been torn from their homes and thrust in that horrible lab, full of tanks and beakers, tubes and wires, dull, artificial light. They had taken life in the purest form and tried to reduce it to disease and death. It was disgusting.

And her father...

Her father had helped with it all. Without him, without his mind and his abilities, Delphi would have barely had a leg to stand on. Kenneth Blackwell had headed Delphi and created the plague known as GUILT. He had infected countless people, infected those innocent babies. He had left her, his only daughter, and his wife behind to join a group of terrorists. The man that had given her life had helped take away so many. And his reason for why he committed such unspeakable crimes was a crushing weight on Angie's shoulders.

Massaging her temples, the nurse continued to stare down at her untouched cup of coffee. She didn't want to think about anything. This was the first night she had been home in weeks. She didn't want to think about all the hardships that had transpired on the boat. All she wanted to do was have a night to herself and to finally be able to snuggle down into her fluffy, familiar, comfortable bed.

"So why in the world am I having this coffee?" Her voice sounded hollow and weary and it seemed to bounce off the walls of her empty apartment, but Angie payed little mind to it. Looking down at her mug full of dark liquid, she sighed. "If I drink this, I'll be up all night." Which she certainly didn't want. Her mind would never shut off if she drank the entire cup.

Standing, Angie ambled over to the sink, holding the cup over the opening and slowly twisting her wrist. Before even a splash of liquid hit the aluminum, she faltered.

Should she be dumping an entire cup of coffee? There wasn't a thing wrong with it. It just seemed very wasteful. But she really didn't need it. Her nerves were strung tight as it was. But pouring the entire cup down the drain seemed so needless. Yet she didn't want to drink it. But she had made it. Yet she-

"Stop arguing with yourself, you ninny, and just stick the cup in the fridge!" Tiring of the senseless inner monologue, Angie turned around and reach for the handle to her refrigerator. Once again, as her fingers tightened around the plastic, she hesitated.

But coffee was never good after it had sat for hours...

With a frustrated huff, she slammed the coffee cup on the counter, sick of the useless argument she insisted on having with herself. It was just coffee! Blast. It wasn't life or death. Placing her arms on the counter, she leaned forward, blond hair framing her face.

Closing her eyes, Angie expelled a heavy sigh, nudging the cup further away from her. She knew the confusing mug of coffee hadn't triggered her one-sided squabble. She knew exactly what had every nerve in her body on high alert. She just didn't want to admit it. But as her breathing increased, she knew she was going to have to face it. She couldn't ignore it. She had been ignoring it since she had been told weeks ago on the boat.

She couldn't hide from the fact that it was her fault those babies had been forced to suffer so.

Feeling hot tears prick her eyes, Angie fought to keep them under control. As she struggled to rein in her emotions, her mind continued to roll. It was true. The reason Delphi had been able to experiment on the children was because of her father, and the reason her father had agreed to help the terrorists was because of her.

It was all her fault.

She had been selected by Delphi to harvest the GUILT. Her blood type had been an accurate match for the disease. Her father had agreed to help them to spare her. If she hadn't been a candidate for the disease, then her father would have never agreed to head the organization. While the rational side of her tried to argue and say that she had just been a child, that she couldn't choose her own blood type, her mind refused to hear it. Facts didn't matter- it had been her father's doing and, in turn, her own.

The liquid piling up behind her lids began to seep through, Angie's shame building up with them. Burying her head in her arms, she sought a feeble refuge, knowing she was already losing the battle before it truly began.

It wasn't just the babies and the GUILT. It went beyond that. It was her father. The man that had abandoned her, left her behind so her could conduct horrible experiments on human lives. She could remember being little and wondering why her father had left, what it was that she had done wrong. The wonder and yearning had soon turned way to anger and resentment and she had slowly built a wall around herself, vowing that she didn't care where her father was or why he had left her sitting.

Through it all, despite her promise, there had always been a part of her, a tiny iota, that still longed for her father. For his voice, his smile, his approval. She told herself otherwise, but he was the reason she had become a nurse, so that she might be close to him, even if he didn't want her. Though she went through her life pretending that she didn't care, that she could care less about the man that was her father, Angie had spent all her years searching and hoping for him.

When she had seen him Caduceus, in her place of work, she had been angry. Furious that he would invade her space and upset her life when she had just started feeling secure. Knowing he had infected her friend with the plague of GUILT had only increased her anger. At that moment in her life all the secret yearnings for her father had evaporated and she had hated him. Her ire had continued to build throughout the days that followed. On the boat they had still festered. When she and Derek had discovered that laboratory, her anger at him had leapt to a new height. If she thought she had hated him before, at that moment in time she had loathed his very being.

But when she had meet him face to face on boat, when, after so many years, she had gotten a real glimpse of the man that had fathered her, Angie's anger had simmered, becoming a dull blade. It had still been present, but overshadowed by a fear. Fear that she would lose him to the plague that he had created. Fear that now, after she finally got to see him, he would leave her again.

No longer concerned with tears, Angie allowed them flow freely down her cheeks. Unable to repress her cries, she gave in, body shaking with a mixture of grief and shame. Pushing away from the counter, Angie stumbled over to the table, haze of tears clouding her vision as she dropped shakily into a chair. She hated to cry. She hated to show her weakness. She always felt open and vulnerable, even when by herself. Though she hated it so, she couldn't resist the pull any longer; couldn't stop her mind from thinking.

Even though her father had done so many wrongs, even though she had tried to harden her heart towards him, the moment she had seen him on the boat, infected with GUILT, the little girl in her had cried out in despair. Even though he had committed countless sins, the child in her had wanted to be able to touch her father. Even though he had killed innocent people, infected little babies, she had just wanted her father to live.

Guilt intensifying, Angie lowered her head to her hands, salty wetness coating her fingers.

How? How could she hate someone and yet love them at the same time? Despite everything, all the wrongs he had done, she still just wanted her father. Not the monster that had created GUILT. Not the coward that had left her. Not the work-obsessed Professor Blackwell. Just her father. She wanted the man who could do no wrong, who had all the answers. The man who would tell her stories, tuck her in at night. The man who would ruffle her hair and tell her that he loved her.

Slumping forward, she leaned into the table, emotions churning inside of her. She felt as though her heart had been ripped out of her chest and tossed in a blender. Her face was swelled, eyes puffy from the tears that wouldn't stop. Her entire body ached, yet she couldn't stop crying, couldn't stop thinking. She just wanted to stop. She didn't want to do this anymore. She didn't want to fall down. She wanted...

She wanted to forget. She wanted to forget about Delphi. About all those people that had died because of her father, because of her. She wanted to forget about that dreadful boat and the horrible scenes she had stumbled upon. She wanted to stop falling down.

And she wanted to be picked up. She wanted her father to pick her up.

Knife twisting in her chest, Angie felt a fresh onslaught of tears sting her eyes. She knew that would never happen. Though Derek had saved her father from his own disease, she knew that her father would never be able to pick her up. He had been allowing her to fall since the day he had left. Her father, the man she had once known, had died years ago. Though he said he did it for her own sake, claimed he did it to protect her, he had done nothing but push her into a seemingly bottomless pit.

Now she had just finally crashed into the bottom.

And she knew that her father wasn't waiting there to pick her up.

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A/n: ... That's as angsty as L2G can get. It's hard for me not to write "But Derek knocks on the door and whisks her away to happy land". XD But we all know that's implied, eh? I did enjoy writing this. A new element is always fun to play with. And I picture as Angie as a strong woman who allows a lot of stuff to pile up on her back before she breaks. I'm sure being on a boat infested with GUILT, operating on the people who created it and being reunited with your estranged father could be the straw that broke the camel's back, don't you? Yeah, I'd so be a broken camel...

As always, reviews are loverly. Feed back is always appreciated. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed.

- L2G