I don't own them.

Ben cursed and lunged at Ian, forgetting the gun in his hand, forgetting that Ian was bigger than him by about fifty pounds, forgetting that the odds were ten on one. All he knew was Riley was on the ground, not moving, a hole in his stomach.

Just as he was about to grab Ian and be beaten into the ground the door burst open. "Freeze!"

Ben felt the weight of at least six guns on him, knowing that they all belonged to Ian. He turned slowly towards the door, unable to be happy or relieved at the sight of the FBI. He could only think ruefully that he was stupid not to be thinking that Saduski would follow his every move.

For a split second Ben didn't know what would happen. He didn't know whether Ian would shoot him. He almost, for that second, wished he would. The prospect of living without Riley, of going back to Abigail and telling her Riley was dead…he didn't even want to think it. He cast one anxious look at his friend and hoped with every fiber of his being that this man…his friend, his partner in crime, his brother… wasn't dead. Because then there wouldn't be any reason for Ben to live.

Ian was a criminal, a traitor, a low-life, the scum of the Earth, in Ben's opinion, but he wasn't stupid. With a look at Ben that said we're not finished yet he thrust his hands into the air and held them there as Saduski and his team came in and forced his hands behind his back.

As soon as Ben was free to do so, he dropped to his knees beside Riley. He pushed back the other man's hair, words of comfort and prayer coming out in a half-whisper as he realized that the younger man's eyes were half-open, staring. His words stopped completely when he realized there was no pulse.

He barely heard one of the men call for a paramedic. He cradled Riley's head in his arms, pushing the hair out of his eyes. He registered the bruises, the cuts, the broken bones.

And there, in the basement of a church, surrounded by FBI and people who had wanted to kill him minutes ago, Benjamin Franklin Gates started to cry.

One Year Ago

"Tell me what I need to know…or I'll shoot your friend."

Ben's mouth was slightly open at this statement, his mind still trying to process everything. This was Ian. Ian, who had believed in the treasure and had gone on a journey all around the world looking for it. Ian…who Riley had never trusted. Who always seemed to scare the young genius.

"Hey!" Ben looked at Riley, standing on the other side of a small wall of barrels. His hands were up, his eyes wide as he looked down the barrel of a gun. Gun. For a second, Ben remembers something Riley said years ago, when Ian first joined their band of two in search of the treasure. He'll shoot us. Or blow us up. Or both.

Or blow us up. As quickly as he could with numb fingers, Ben struck a match, holding it out, trying to get Ian's attention. Don't shoot the kid…don't shoot Riley. "Look where you're standing. All that gun powder." He swallowed, looked at Riley. He hoped Riley would understand. "You shoot me, I drop this, we all go up."

The next thirty seconds, Ben can honestly say he never knew what happened. He had thrown the fire, Ian had caught it…then it fell. Ian and Shaw got out, leaving Ben and Riley…

"Riley, get over here!" Ben pushed against the heavy metal door, hoping it would open, hoping it would keep them alive. He heard the young man get next to him, obviously afraid of the fire. "Ben, what is this?"

"Smuggler's hold." Ben grunted, finally getting the door open, thanking his father for, in one of his many attempts to get young Ben's mind off the treasure, teaching him about ships and piracy. He knew that the door would lead them to a heavily guarded room, though if it would survive the blast of a hundred kegs of gunpowder, he didn't know.

"Get down!" Ben shouted, pushing Riley to the ground just before the gunpowder exploded.

It was like hearing a terrible band play at maximum volume. It was like being next to a jet plane as it started up. Ben wanted to cover his ears, at the same time feeling, for the first time in a week, very warm. His body shivered at the uncomfortable feeling of going from very cold to boiling hot in a matter of seconds.

Then, as quickly as it started, it was over. Ben opened an eye he hadn't remembered closing and saw snow. With two digs he was out. "Riley?" There was no answer.

Panicking now, Ben berated himself for taking Riley here in the first place. For bringing Riley along on any of his expeditions. Riley could have been shot today. He could have died. Again.

Just as he felt his breathing go shallow with fear, he felt a pile of snow move near him and Riley's head pop out. The man scrambled for his glasses before placing them on his face and looking at Ben, obviously as relieved to see his friend as Ben was to see him. Ben, already sitting on top of the snow, held out a hand to pull Riley out, which he gladly accepted.

They started walking, Ben talking about the Inuit village (which he hoped was in this direction) while Riley was beside him, for once not talking or complaining, just shivering.

"He's going to steal the Declaration of Independence, Ben." Riley said, his teeth chattering as he spoke. His eyes suddenly met Ben's and the ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "Told you he'd shoot us. Or me. Though it was you who decided to blow us up."

Ben looked at him and couldn't help but grin, telling himself over and over that Riley's shivering was due to the cold, not the near-death experience Ben had placed him in. Again.

Present Day

Ben stood in the hospital, looking at the double doors Riley had just been rushed through. For the first time in hours, he allowed himself to think. This was Riley, the one who would never grow up, who would spend more time at their house than at his apartment, who would and had gone to the ends of the Earth to help Ben.

A touch on Ben's shoulder made him jump. He whipped fast, startling Abigail. They looked at each other, Abigail shaking, tears running down her cheeks. Ben felt nothing. He had cried in the church but hadn't cried since. This was beyond words. Beyond tears.

"Will he be okay?" Abigail finally whispered, her voice breaking. Ben drew the smaller woman to him, all thoughts of their earlier fight forgotten in the face of the tragedy. He kissed the top of her head but said nothing. He couldn't tell her what he didn't know.

"What happened?" Two words that Ben had been thinking all night. What had happened? He remembered the bruises on Riley's body, the blood in his apartment. He remembered Riley's face when he had been shot, all surprise.

What had happened? And why couldn't Ben help him?

He stood, looking at the doors that lead to the operating room, willing his friend to be okay.

At the same time, something deep inside him told him he might already be too late.

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