Story is complete in 38 parts. Postings will be every weekday until complete. No posts on Saturday or Sunday.

Set between season 5 and 6. Spoilers for Arrow of Time, The Fifth Man and Disturbed. Canon pairings for the season (Charlie/Amita and Don/Robin). No character death.

Characters: David Sinclair, Charlie Eppes, Don Eppes, Alan Eppes, Amita Ramanujan, Robin Brooks, Colby Granger, Liz Warner, Nikki Betancourt, Larry Fleinhardt, OCs

Special thanks to ancientmaverick for beta reading! Thank you very much! All remaining mistakes are my own.

The following story is fictional and does not depict any actual person or event. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

PROLOGUE – A LEISURELY EVENING

96 billions neurons

47,055 drug overdoses

135 days

1 family

Thu, March 26 - 21:30 - Parking Lot, Los Angeles

"Thank you for the surprise," Robin said as she walked beside Don. "It was beautiful."

She was in the middle of a juridical fight about the death of a young man in custody that was taking all her time and strength.

"You needed the distraction," Don answered with a slight smile. "And I got an evening with a beautiful woman out of it."

She hit his shoulder playfully. "Charmer," Robin accused him. "But the dinner was wonderful." Delicious food, tasteful décor, and the best possible service - the restaurant had delivered even more than promised. More important for her was his attention. She had told him about her interest in this particular restaurant, and he had listened.

"Glad you enjoyed it," he said, stopping and facing her. Cradling her head in his hands, he gave her a light kiss on the forehead. "And now stop thinking, just for tonight, about Matthew Flynn. He died, and that's a tragedy, but I've read the reports, and you and the DEA did everything right. You are not to blame."

"Yes, I know. But his parents were working hard to get together the bail and post it. He would - he could have been out of jail when the fight broke out." She shook her head. "With the suicide of his roommate now, I'm not so sure anymore that the drugs were his. Maybe he really had been in the wrong room at the wrong time. Something like this shouldn't have killed him."

"Robin." He kissed her again. "Stop thinking about it. You did what you were supposed to do. You are not responsible for his death. He was responsible for his own choices. It was your duty to charge him with the evidence you had. The man who killed Matthew Flynn is the only one responsible for his death."

She nodded. "Yes. But-"

"Stop thinking. And that's an order, counselor."

She smiled. "I don't take orders from agents."

He raised an eyebrow. "Not even special agents?"

"No." She grinned and opened her mouth to make a saucy comment when Don's demeanor suddenly changed.

He tensed up, and his warm hands left her face and flew to his waist.

Then she heard the screeching tires.

Everything happened so fast that she would later need to watch the surveillance video on slow motion to follow the movements.

He pushed her back toward the restaurant as a dark van came to a halt next to them. Strong hands grabbed at her. She pushed back. Desperately, she tried to remember the defensive moves she had learned from her family and Don. She used her elbows and fingernails and tried to hit important places.

Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Don. He fought but she couldn't make out how he was faring. Her breath was coming too fast, everything hurt, and the panic threatened to burst her chest.

She heard shouts and moans and cries as through cotton.

Suddenly, she was free.

"Run!" She heard Don's desperate order. "Run!"

She may have forgotten in her panic how to fight, but she knew instinctively how important it was to do what he told her in a situation like this. She sprinted as hard as possible. After the first few steps, she kicked away her shoes to run on the wet and cold underground. Even the little pebbles hurt like needles on her bare feet.

She focused on her target - the restaurant. She tried to ignore the pain and ran despite how much it hurt, knowing it slowed her down.

A loud bang destroyed the cotton in her ears. Everything returned with vehemence in full loudness.

She fell forward. Reflexively, her arms shot out and caught her as she crumbled to the ground.

"Robin!"

She heard his call. She really heard it, but she didn't understand why she would be lying on the cold, wet ground. Don wouldn't let her fall if it was cold or slick. But hadn't she been in LA? There shouldn't be snow around.

"Robin!"

He sounded far away.

A pain she had never felt before hit her from inside. She jerked and pulled her knees to her chest. Tears sprung to her eyes. She didn't understand what was going on.

Her hands found the source of the pain and pressed against it. For a moment, everything turned dark.

"Robin!"

She startled at the clarity of her senses as they returned. Staring at her hand, she watched, fascinated, as the red blood dripped to the ground. She forced herself to turn, seeking out the sound of fighting.

Between her and the dark van, a man laid on the ground writhing and moaning. A wave of dizziness swept over her. She just needed to close her eyes for a moment.

The hurt man managed to climb to his feet. He held his arm across his chest and started to run away. She kept searching for her target. Far away, as if she would look through a tunnel, she then found Don.

Two men were dragging him to the van. He wasn't fighting anymore.

Why didn't he fight?

Frantically Robin looked around until she saw the restaurant. He had sent her back. Why had he sent her back? Probably to get help.

She tried to get her feet under her, but the pain in her abdomen kept her pinned to the ground.

Crying and fighting for breath, she started to crawl.

She only had one aim: get help for Don.

Hands were grabbing her arms and pulling her away.

Everything went dark. Robin fought to stay awake. She needed to get help. For Don.

It took great effort to open her eyes, but even as she did so, something pressed on her stomach. Her cry of pain turned into sobbing. The pain felt like fire crawling through her insides.

Her fingernails scratched at the ground, desperately trying to find something to hold on. She tried to roll away from the pain, but nothing worked anymore.

She needed to tell them something, but the pain was making it impossible to think.

She gasped, fresh waves of pain rolling over her as blood filled her mouth. She tasted iron on her lips, and the voices around her grew louder, speaking with greater urgency.

"Don," she breathed. "Don. You've got to help Don."

More blood collected in her mouth.

'He is an FBI agent. You have to call his team.'

Why wasn't anyone reacting? She'd spoken clearly, hadn't she? No. The words had only been spoken in her mind. She tried again.

"Don!"

And then, black. She wouldn't regain consciousness again until it was too late.

TBC