This story starts a long time ago, back when an Agent Paul Briggs was still relatively new to the Bureau. It was his first big case, a deep cover with two other agency agents. The cover was to not only infiltrate one of the biggest drug lords of the world, John Marcello, but many of his fellow big players. Briggs had worked his way up to Marcello's right hand man, his partner Rodney was head of security detail, DOD agent Symphony Taylor was Marcello's girlfriend.

It started out normal, Briggs and Rodney under aliases of Nicolai and Eli were both sitting by the beach, laughing and drinking beers all around having a good time... until the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Rodney groaned as he rolled off his beach chair to run inside. "Hello?"

There was silence for a minute before Rodney came out onto the deck. Briggs turned to him, the beginnings of a laugh on his lips when he saw Rodney's face go white.

"What is it Eli?" Briggs asked as he got up from his chair. They may be taking a day off but the cartel knew where they lived and even visited so they were never allowed to break cover.

Rodney didn't answer the question, choosing instead to hand the phone to Briggs.

"Romero."

"Nicolai, I need you. I need you to get me."

Brigg's heart stopped at the words that left the mouth of one Rachel Marcello. In his time playing this role he'd gotten quite close to Marcello's fifteen year old daughter. When Marcello was out he'd often ask "Nicolai" if he would stay with her to watch over her. In turn it turned into many late nights of card games and movie marathons. The two considered each other brother and sister, it was common knowledge that if you messed with Rachel her father would be the least of your worries.

"Rachel? Rachel where are you?"

"On the corner of North and Pavilion."

"On the corner of North and Pavilion? Rach, what are you doing in Columbia Cartel territory?"

"I decided to walk home from school, I know I shouldn't have but it was such a nice day. Two guys grabbed me, brought me here… they… Nicolai, please," she begged.

"I'm on my way."

It was less then ten minutes later when he pulled up on the corner of North and Pavilion in his black Mercedes. One look at Rachel was all the confirmation he needed. Her dress was ripped and her makeup was smudged, it didn't take a genius to know what they'd done to her. He got out of the car, his eyes ablaze.

"Who did this?" he demanded.

"Nicolai, please, let's just go," Rachel begged.

"Who?"

"Juan."

Juan Cortez, a mid-level drug dealer for the Columbia Cartel run by Diego Rodriguez. The club they were currently standing in front of was their headquarters.

"Get in the car Rachel."

Anger coursed through his veins as he threw open the door to the club. Everyone went silent the minute he entered.

"Where is Juan?"

"Nicolai Romero, what are you doing in my neighborhood?" Diego Rodriguez asked, rising from his seat.

"I need to speak with you."

The drug lord gave a nod to his bodyguards, allowing the agent to pass.

"You better have a good reason for this."

Briggs glared at the Drug Lord, knowing that if he had any hope of killing Juan he had to play this right.

"One of your guys raped my girl."

Diego's eyes went aflame and slightly wide. One of his men raping innocent Rachel Marcello spelled turf war. It angered the man to his bones, he condoned a lot, but rape wasn't one of them as he had two girls Rachel's age.

"Do what you have too."

Briggs grinned smugly as he reentered the crowd of curious onlookers. "I want Cortez. Where is he?"

"What are you doing here Romero? You're out of your turf," the dealer asked equally smug.

"You think you can snatch and rape a girl from our territory and get away with it?"

"And what makes her so special?"

"She's Rachel Marcello, I believe you know her father?" Briggs stated with a smug grin as the blood drained from Cortez's face. Juan looked from Briggs to Rodriguez, he knew the drug lord wasn't going to protect him on this. "Look, I'm not going to kill you now. I want you to know it's coming. These people won't protect you, they protect you and we have a turf war they know we'll win. When Marcello hears about this, you better pray that someone merciful finds you first."

With that, Briggs left the club, ready to crack skulls but aware that there was a distraught teenager waiting for him.

Rachel was curled up in his back seat with a pillow and blanket that he always kept in the trunk. Her face was black from where the mascara had run down her face and her eyes were red rimmed from crying. Without asking Briggs opened the back door and got in. He kept his movements slow as he reached towards her, taking her into his arms. The damn broke the minute she was tucked into his arms.

"Shh, I got you Rachel, I got you. I will never let anyone hurt you ever again, I promise." He kissed her head.

If only it was a promise he could keep.

When they arrived back at the house, he told the guy at the gate (it was a BIG house) to send a 911 text to Marcello and to call him. Then with a blanket still wrapped around her, he led her to the theater room and laid her down on the couch.

"You stay here principessa, I'll be right back."

She nodded into her covers, hiding her face from the world.

He exited the room, closing the double doors behind him to see Rodney (aka Jones Harris), Lana, James, Rowan, Agatha, and Liam standing in a half circle waiting for him. They would be the small council if Drug Cartels had such things.

"What happened?"

"One of Rodriguez's dealers took her on the way home from school and raped her. They let her go after and she called me. I talked with Rodriguez and he said to do whatever we have to. I want open season on this guy and anyone who tries to protect him, the more gruesome his murder the better."

"You got it Romero, does Boss know?"

"Not yet, I sent the 911 text but he hasn't called me yet."

"Ok, want me to call Dr. Baroda?" Agatha asked, her eyes darting to the closed door.

"Yes."

Briggs returned to the room. It was dark out and the large maroon drapes covered what little light from the moon there was, still the room was warm and inviting with two lamps bathing the room in a dark golden glow. With a sigh, Briggs sat down on the edge of the couch, his hand resting tenderly against Rachel's blanket covered arm.

"Nicolai," she whispered.

"I'm here baby girl, I'm here."

"It hurts."

"I know, why don't we get you cleaned up?"

Normally that would not be his suggested course of action but they already knew who the rapist was and he was definitely not going to be prosecuted by legals so he saw nothing wrong with it.

With a comforting smile he led her to her room, with the full intention of leaving her there to get cleaned up, but she turned to look at him. She let the covers drop around her and he knew it took everything in her to not curl up in herself.

"Nicolai?" she asked softly.

"What is it sweetheart?"

"Will anyone ever want me… after this?"

"Baby girl, of course."

"Would you?" her face was serious.

"Rachel…"

"I mean if you were my age or I was yours and I actually loved you like that… would you want me?"

"Yes," he whispered as he kissed her forehead. She smiled, and while she was no where near okay, he had taken a tiny bit of her pain away.

The next few weeks were hard, Rachel had nightmares every night and when she had them only "Nicolai" could consol her or get her back to sleep. It appeared that the turf war they had been hoping to avoid had started as a good number of the Columbian Cartel weren't to eager to betray one of there own and it only got worse when Juan was found dismembered on their doorstep. In addition, to make matters worse, FBI, DOD, and DEA were ready to make the arrests.

It happened one night that was particularly bad. Marcello, Rodriguez, and another drug lord by the name of Martel were busy trying to negotiate a peaceful solution before more of their men were hurt. As second hand man, Briggs was there, and where Briggs was, Rachel wasn't far behind.

Rachel was curled up on a comfortable dinner chair by the poker table next to Rodney while Briggs paced behind Marcello, keeping tabs on the conversation and the other drug lords' men.

A red light flashed briefly in the window and Briggs bit his lip, it was the two minute warning that they were about to go in. He nodded to Rodney and Symphony.

It was a blur after that. The FBI and DEA stormed into the room armed with guns.

"Gun!" Briggs yelled to one of the FBI agents. The agent turned to see one of the drug lords reaching for something behind the couch. The agent hesitated and the drug lord took the gun and fired two shots.

Briggs grabbed Rachel around her waist and pulled her to the ground. The battle of arrest continued around them but all Briggs could think about was the fact that when he pulled his hand away from Rachel it was red. In terror he looked down to see her lifeless head resting against the floor. Her head dropped back when he pulled her up.

"No, no, Rachel!" he screamed, pressing his fingers into the bleeding bullet wound in her chest.

The drug lords had been arrested and led out before Rachel was shot so Marcello was unaware of his recent loss. All that was left were a few agents, Rodney, and Symphony.

Briggs pulled her close to his chest, her head still dangling backward as he cried into her neck.

Rodney kneeled before him, tears in his own eyes.

"Paul." His real name sounded so foreign, it'd been to long since someone had said it allowed.

"She's gone," he whispered in disbelief, looking up to meet the eyes of his partner.

"I know."

Behind him the agent that hadn't shot stared at her in tears, feeling guilty for not shooting, but he was following protocol, he hadn't seen the gun; the agent hadn't killed her, protocol had.

He took off for a few months, unable to stand doing that job anymore. That night stayed with him, haunting him, he vowed he would never let protocol stand in the way of getting the bad guys and that night she became his deepest secret, deepest hurt.


A/n Anyone catch the reference to the first episode? Where Briggs shot the guy even though he didn't see the gun, I imagine something like this would be why. Another person under his watch would not die by protocol.