A/N: This story is going to be on the angst side of things, not sure about the rating. It'll depend on the content of the story. It's going to be a different one this time around. Since I don't get to write about her often, I decided this story would focus on Natalia Boa Vista in a struggle that nobody sees..

Each chapter will have a song it somehow relates to.

It'll have slow updates, but yeah, a NBV one shot/story thing.


Natalia Boa Vista stared out of her kitchen window, holding a bottle of beer in her hand. She'd lost some weight. Gotten her fringe re-cut and dyed her honey-blonde hair a darker shade of brown. But her appearance didn't necessarily reflect that of a glow up. Those beautiful brown eyes were drained of their color, with dark lines underneath. Her hair was tied back in a messy ponytail that was barely holding up. Her posture was slightly slouched, as if she carried weights on her shoulders. Outside, the neighborhood dealer was about. He was selling weed, ectasy and blunts. Natalia tended to stay away when she witnessed things like dealings going on. Purely because being a cop in a crime infested area wasn't the most astonishing thing in the world. Instead she smoked a cuban cigar once every month. The spacing between smokes was to make sure she never became addicted. The regime worked like a charm - the same way her workout did.

She didn't know when she started drinking beers instead of her favorite cocktail ('that green stuff' as Delko calls it) but it wasn't necessarily anything she was proud of. It was 5:39am and Natalia was already drinking. Boa Vista took a last sip, poured the remaining volume down the sink and chucked the bottle in the trash. 'I need to stop drinking.' She thought to herself, turning away from the window and went to the drawer she kept locked. The DNA expert had retrieved the key from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Natalia inserted the key and swiftly twisted it until the drawer opened.

Inside the drawer was a gun. A Glock-19. Fully loaded, with extra ammo also inside.

Although she meant to pick up the gun, her eyes feel upon something that had distracted her from the firearm. A folded polaroid with a golden necklace sitting inside. Natalia took both, deciding she'd leave the drawer unlocked in case she wanted to put either away and pretend she never saw it.

She pushed the drawer shut with both things clasped in each hand. Natalia went upstairs to her bedroom, ignoring the mess that was her bathroom. Everything was placed on the vanity and she sat down in her chair.

Sometimes she debated if it was worth going back to San Diego. Pretending that she'd never come to Miami, married an abuser and wasted a lot of loose years she could've spent happy. She got used to all the nasty and horrific things that Nick Townsend did to her. It wasn't until her ex-husband was suspect in a murder investigation that she realized what was happening. She'd been pushed to the edge with her depression and was contemplating ways out. But the women's shelter had saved her from ending her life stuck in the abusive relationship.

The divorce was the most joy she'd ever experienced with him. She took out a TRO against him and was assured that she was free. But emotional recovery took months. And by then, it'd been ages since she had let anyone see past her long sleeve pullovers and worn out slacks.

That's when Eric came into the picture. Eric. The first man she'd given into once she was sure he wouldn't judge her scars. He too had his own scars. She'd noticed that. Delko made her feel whole again. Body image didn't matter to him. Natalia had put her trust in him since she was a little behind in the experience.. His gentleness showed that he understood her virginity with a lacking sex life.

Natalia unfolded the polaroid. It was a picture that would seem indecent and explicit without knowledge of what it meant to her. There were no copies for privacy purposes, but it was a picture of them both butt naked, drunk and way over their heads. He'd given it to her along with the necklace.

Butterfly: The golden, butterfly shaped charm on the end of the necklace. It served as a reminder to be free. Let it all go.

The meaning of it was self acceptance. Appreciation for the natural beauty of the body. They looked after each other, even with all the losses and situations that were thrown into the mix. He could never hate her and she could never unlove him. The cycle seemed to repeat itself. That's when she decided to stay.

She undid the latch and put the necklace on. It would be her personal reminder.

Natalia unbuttoned her shirt, stripping it off her body and letting it fall to the floor. She put the gun into the top drawer in her nightstand. The DNA analyst turned the light off, closed the blinds and got into bed in hope she wouldn't start thing about it again.