Hullo little people of my life and soul. Happy new years! Okay, this chapter contains lots of goodness cuz' I'm thinking of writing just a few more chapters so I have to make this roll sooner than later. It depends on how I feel the plot is going… Read and review because I'm quite irresolute on how I ended this, was it a cliff hanger? I'm unsure since I'm not too familiar with the cliffies but please R&R.

"Robin wouldn't do that to us," Doujima said shrilly from her lonesome spot in the conference room. "She was kidnapped; she's being kept somewhere waiting for us to rescue her."

Amon rubbed his temples for the millionth time that morning. Things were culminating, things that were out of total control. Karasuma's health for example, it was deteriorating slowly and modern medicine could do nothing for her. The three of them had been discharged four days ago with prescriptions of very strong painkillers and gauze to retreat their wounds once in a while. Sakaki would have to go again to see when he could drop the brace from his leg and Amon had to go to get his stitches removed from his eyebrow. His shoulder was still in excruciating pain but he dealt with it in his brooding silence.

Another thing that couldn't be helped was Amon telling the others of Robin's past actions. As much as he had liked to keep it to himself, tell himself over and over it had been a mirage caused by the smoke, the dutiful hunter in him kept him from doing just that.

"It could have been a hallucination on my part but Robin was there last night," as soon as the words were out of his mouth he wanted to take them back because saying it out loud like that…it made it sound so much more real, more true.

"M-maybe the witches got to her," Sakaki grunted while trying to lift his injured leg to the spare chair next to him. "They made her do it since, uh, you know, she's at their mercy and stuff."

"Yeah, they probably threatened her with something or—or maybe she was protecting us!" Doujima piped hopefully, looking from one to the other for a sort of approval but both simply stared back giving almost a pitying look.

"What could she have possibly thought was more dangerous than the killer tsunami coming towards us?" Sakaki asked her gently as to not tear her hope too early. "She trapped us for some reason but to 'protect' us probably wasn't high on the list."

"Amon, you don't think it was really Robin do you?" Doujima turned to Amon who surprisingly gave a start at being directed to the conversation again, "Not the Robin we know. She couldn't have been in her right state of mind."

Amon looked away from those big optimistic blue eyes that were screaming for him to agree, any reassurance would be fine, even lies would be welcomed just as long they weren't given another reason to cry again.

"Robin—she, she wasn't acting like herself," he declared lamely turning away from the two young hunters who had exchanged looks of deep relief. As they started to discuss ways and reasons for Robin's newly acquired agenda Amon rubbed his temples and tried to stop those last images of her attacking and the craft of her fire burning his chest… He had kept that little detail for himself just like he had kept Robin's blood red pendant hidden deep in his trouser pocket. If they could endeavor with denial he didn't see why he couldn't. Well, actually he knew hundredths of protocol reasons why he shouldn't but he couldn't help it.

The Robin he knew would have never done what she did to her fellow hunters. The Robin he knew would've never turned her eyes—her craft on him, of all people, and he knew this in the bottom of his stoic heart. But that didn't stop the nagging voice of reason in the back of his mind that asked conspicuously over and over, 'But do you really know her? Did you ever?'

------------------------------------------------------

Robin's skin was full of goose bumps. Not because of the freezing ripples of wind that had been seeping in to the rundown warehouse, or because Louis had been caressing her cheek and patronizing her as some sort of sick amusement for the past five minutes but because of what she was about to do. In her mind she knew that it was the right thing to do but that didn't stop the prospects of the simple action to terrify her senseless. Her teeth chattered at the cold and a breath of relief escaped her as soon as Louis had gotten bored of his callous forms of fun and returned to his never ending games of Solitaire. He had ordered Masuo to exchange the bandana, the one she had on was becoming displeasing to look at and it had begun to smell according to him.

This was the golden opportunity she had been waiting for almost five days. She had been patient, taking Louis's horrid remarks and treatment and even Jung's snide comments on Amon. Robin had dealt with it all and it had solidified her choice.

'I'll be strong, I won't scream,' she promised herself as the sound of Masuo's shuffling feet through glass reached her ears. She felt the coolness of the handcuffs more prominently than before and gulped; it was time. In the pit of her stomach she sensed an inkling of regret for what she was about to do to Masuo, he had been kind to her.

"Okay child don't try anything, I'm going to change this very fast, okay?" his cane fell to the ground with a clatter that echoed about as he grunted to kneel in front of her.

It was off: faint light made her eyes hurt in a second but it wasn't going to stop her, that nanosecond was precious. Robin released her craft with exuberance so that the poor man was sent flying from her. Without bothering to hesitate or wonder how much she would suffer later because of it Robin melted the handcuffs off her wrists. The metal turned brilliant orange in seconds and melted right off.

Adrenaline was what kept the burns from getting to her or stop her action in full progress. It had taken her seconds to do all this so when she raised herself from the chair Masuo and Louis were still blinking and wondering what had just happened. Robin turned to Louis far off in a small folding table with cards spread around looking at her and let all the frustration, anger and vulnerability show in her craft against him. The craft exploded from her and slashed deadly through the air as it made its way to him.

In all her long fifteen years of living with her powers Robin had never actually liked the pain it caused people but she let herself enjoy it as Louis was slammed back against the tin walls of the horrid place. Satisfied, Robin turned to the exit and burned open the door which exploded with a bang and opened to a world where the sun shone and wildlife beckoned.

She could see for the first time in what seemed ages; a blue sky extending beyond. Trees with falling leaves and drying grass sprinkled with the occasional night frost began after the gravel gave away to rich soil. All this she took in and headed towards it like a starving man for a stale piece of bread. It was hope, it was a promise, it was her Holy Grail. The sky…sprinkled with twinkling stars…that shined in the sun…stars?

They danced in every shape and form about her, around her. Robin overlooked this and made a run to the exit but the stars followed like small comets that pricked at her skin, pricked because they were weren't beautiful bringers of light, they were pieces of glass. As she realized this Robin noticed that the exit never seemed to come towards her no matter how fast she ran towards it, or that no matter how entranced in her escape she still wasn't able to hear the inevitable screams of pain that were suppose to be coming from the human torch Louis had become.

Robin knew it was lost even before she managed to trip on her dress and slam down on the floor. Her breath ragged at her lungs and sweat dripped from every pore. Her body felt like it had been beat on by a metal bat in every spot possible; she was actually surprised her head wasn't spinning like it always did nowadays.

"Finally an escape attempt, and here I thought you were going to be all boring today again."

Even if her head wasn't dizzy, it felt heavy to lift. Her eyes swam with tears as she saw them both, Louis and Masuo staring back at her looking calm and collected without a scratch about them. She saw the door she had blasted a minute ago intact and fully closed blocking that wonderful sight she had just seen. If Robin paid more attention to her position on the ground she would have noticed that her prisoner chair was right behind her: she hadn't moved toward anything or away from anything. What she did notice was the pinpoints of blood that were ensuing like polka dots from tiny shards of glass perforated all over her palms. Another thing that had been real was her stupidity for melting metal against naked skin. Angry red blisters were appearing all around her wrists. All of this made Robin think of that idea people had of getting cut somehow but not experiencing the true pain until you could see the blood or damage that had been done with your own eyes. They were right, the people.

"Well done, you have managed to entertain me for, ah, two minutes," Louis said giving her a glowing smile while making a big show of checking his watch.

"W-what? But How? I saw—," she sputtered from the floor.

"What you saw was an illusion courtesy of Masuo here."

Robin forced her ten-pound head to turn to the man on the cane. He refused to meet her eyes as he shuffled from one foot to the other. His navy blue sweater had a burn around the left shoulder and under it, the shoulder itself was beginning too look like her wrists.

From the floor, mustering to keep fresh tears from coming and some of her dignity in place, Robin found it deep in her to feel glad. Glad she caused as much pain as she could even in her state of self.

That didn't help the fact that she had realized the bandana wasn't to keep her from escaping, it was to keep little pesky problems like this one from happening. They had other ways to keep her in check.

Fighting was no good; crying was no good, then what was? What was she supposed to do?

Her heart still pounded and blood rushed through her veins but she was going to die. The way Masuo looked at his shoulder handling it carefully while refusing to look at her and Louis coming over with his a lopsided grin and a new bandana at hand made it clear she would die sooner or later.

With her eyes covered again, she was led onto the chair. Masking tape sounded and Louis roughly taped her arms to the armrests on the chair. He didn't tape her wrists but he enjoyed gripping them in what he was pretending to be 'concern'.

'I'm going to die and I didn't even get so say goodbye…I never told him…'

Life ripped from her hands, useless and weakened, Robin dropped her head and sobbed.

"Oh, boohoo, what's with the water works?" Louis laughed while Robin tried to stifle the noise coming from her mouth. "You are so naïve it just makes my day."

He sighed melancholically patting her wrists knowing it would add to her tears and as further punishment he forbid Masuo from treating them, "She did this to herself after all. Maybe she likes it, like a cutter likes—cutting, she likes to feel the burn, how sadistic…and kinky."

Masuo and Robin gritted their teeth at the sound of Louis inhuman burst of laughter, but unlike Robin Masuo had the opportunity to get out.

"I'll go get something to eat, and a new shirt," he added looking at his ruined sweater. He was half way down to the door holding his breath, waiting for it…waiting for it…

"You go do that but I think it's time for you to step up."

Slowly, all too reluctantly Masuo turned to the man who was at least ten years his junior and from whom he followed orders, "What do you mean?"

Louis shrugged and gave him a warm smile he probably gave his students everyday, "I'm aware today is Jung's day but I ordered her not to go 'all the way'. You, on the other hand, I want a hunter down, and I want it today."

Masuo's eyes narrowed and his grip on the cane tightened, "Does Jung know I'm doing it today too? Maybe I should wait for my time like we planned before."

"No, I don't care about Jung's petty wishes. I want a hunter down, I'm bored…I want this game to get a move on."

--------------------------------------------

"Doyle Hotta, thirty-seven years old, born in Tokyo," Michael said reading from a fax send from the Factory. "He was a custodian in a school for rich kids for the past seven months, worked as a plumber before that. Other than that, there is no clue as to why he was there last night."

The night was approaching and they were still in the conference room waiting for a break through of whatever kind. So far, it was getting them nowhere. A car had been left on the scene but it had lacked license plates or any registering sticker, no one had reported it stolen and according to car retailers in the city, no one had bought one of its kind that they could remember. They had hit a brick wall without any hope or solution.

"They will contact us," Michael said finally after no one had spoken up. "It's obvious we won't get much out of it and they know this so they will tell us what to do next, it is a game for them after all."

Doujima shook her head wordlessly while Sakaki moved his crutch out of the way to yell at Michael better, "A game? It's not a game, Karasuma is dying and Robin is missing! We can't just sit here and twiddle our thumbs wondering when the phone will ring!"

"We can't, but we will."

With those words the team split for home. None of them knew what to do. Sleep? Eat? Watch television? It wasn't like their exhausted bodies and droning minds would allow any of that but they could at least wonder. Once in the basement garage Amon turned to his car without a word of comfort to either Sakaki or Doujima but they were used to it.

"Don't hurt the leather," Doujima stated as a ritual as Sakaki got in the backseat of her sports car.

"Yeah, yeah, I can't wait until I can ride my bike again," he grumbled stretching his leg on the entire seat.

"You could at least be a tiny bit grateful that I waste my precious time being your chauffeur," she gave him a dirty look in the rearview mirror but his only response was on oversized grin.

"Doujima, you could go visit her you know."

Her smile froze in place but she refused to answer.

"She's in Intensive Care but since she's under STN protection you could go visit her whenever you want, visiting hours don't matter."

"I know that."

"So will you go?"

"No."

Doujima chewed at the inside of her mouth, fully aware he was frowning reproachfully at her but she didn't care. She didn't care, not at all. Not even a little bit… He didn't understand.

How could he? He wasn't hurt like she was, he was on crutches taking painkillers but he didn't understand, he just couldn't.

"I don't want to see her," was her final and only response.

He thankfully quit talking about it—he quit talking at all. She didn't care…not even a little bit.

Sakaki hadn't seen it, not before it hit. He hadn't been pushed to the ground by Karasuma at the last minute…he hadn't seen the wave hit the woman with its force to the tree. If he had he wouldn't want to see her dying on the bed, seeing her lay there and feel guilt gnaw up inside him, he just didn't know.

Karasuma had protected Doujima instead of herself and now she was dying, easy as that. Except how could you say it out loud for them to understand? Doujima didn't know, didn't want to figure it out.

"Goodnight," he said stiffly once outside his apartment building and turning to leave without waiting for a response. She shook her head and drove off, maybe she would stare at the TV for a few hours, she had always enjoyed midnight infomercials. Tomorrow in the morning she could simply say she had gone to visit, Sakaki could never tell when she was lying. It would make him feel better…

Without realizing it Doujima had driven all the way to the hospital. The tall taupe building beckoned somberly, its big Red Cross suggesting people suffering in its insides. She shook her head, no, she couldn't, she wouldn't. Maybe tomorrow she would be able to face that sight again but not today. She turned her signal to go right, behind her a car did the same.

Her inside hunter signals pointed to the suggestion that she might be followed but she drove the idea away in a flash. She was only eighteen, she couldn't be so paranoid at her age. Leave that to junkies and UFO fanatics…

The car went to the left lane, right lane, turned corners—all along with her.

'I'm being followed,' Doujima concluded after three more miles. She wasn't scared just weary, so much for midnight good bad TV. Gingerly reaching for her purse while keeping an eye on the stalker, Doujima tried to find her cell phone. Where was it? Did she even have it?

Panic made its way to the pit of her stomach and gurgled, it wasn't there.

As if it perceived finally being noticed the driver in the car sped towards her until he was tail gating. Doujima pressed the gas and managed to keep safe distant but the person wouldn't relent. Furiously she looked around discovering there was no one behind of before them. They were simply speeding down the suburbs that were bizarrely vacant of any traffic whatsoever.

Doujima almost lost control of the steering wheel as the car hit her hard from behind.

"Shit, shit."

She burned tire taking a turn, the stalker followed…then just disappeared. Doujima blinked—gone?

A second later she tore her eyes from the mirror and looked at the big brick wall literally right before her.

Instead of her going towards it, the wall seemed to be coming to her at great speed. Her eyes widened and she thought of Sakaki's rolling eyes and his criticism of her.

She did care, she cared a lot.

-------------------------------------------

"There isn't any hot water on our floor."

Amon turned to an old woman in a terry cloth robe wearing carpet slippers after emerging from the elevator. He was looking through his mail but hid it hastily at the sight of the woman, there were envelopes with the STN-J insignia.

"I'll keep that in mind," he grunted trying to slip around her.

"You are looking a bit yellow," she continued taking on the look of a caring old grandmother. "I don't know what you do but I bet you don't eat. You can get the flu if you don't take care of yourself."

He stood still staring at her, willing for her to simply go away but she didn't and started to make comments on his wardrobe, "All that black…you'd think you're going to a funeral daily…are you a drug lord or something those people do to get easy money?"

Thinking it was enough Amon wordlessly passed by her and went to his own apartment two doors from hers. The woman had Alzheimer's, she would ask him the same thing in the mornings and evenings when she caught sight of him. Usually he could stand there and go through the replayed conversation but today he didn't have it in him.

He entered his small apartment and turned on the light. The dim light created shadows making the place look somber and wretched even if it was actually in very good conditions.. The living room was entirely empty with the exception of a large oval shaped mirror of to the wall. A doorway to the side contained the kitchen which was impeccably clean and had no signs of food, utensils or plates. He would always eat out or simply not eat at all it usually depended on what his job was at the time. His keys were dropped with a clatter on the kitchen counter and he retreated to his bedroom. Hopefully he would be able to sleep a couple of hours just enough to help him think clearly in the morning.

Once in his room he turned on the bedside lamp, the clock read ten twenty. The hair at the back of his neck stood up slowly and he reached slowly for his gun.

"Amon"

Two pairs of green eyes bore into him as he swiveled to meet them. There she was looking just as pale and serene as she had behind the fire five days ago. Her hands were to her sides and her hair was loose like back then. She smiled softly at him and he retracted his hand from his gun a fraction of an inch.

"What are you doing here?"

Robin shrugged gently like a child being asked where her parents were. She held out her palms slowly as if to show she came in peace, she would do nothing because she had nothing.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," she finally spoke indicating at his chest.

"Why did you?"

She looked away at loss for words, was it guilt, sadness? What was in her eyes?

"I'm sorry"

He fought for self-possession, she was here safe and sound. The worry and confusion could stop now. Robin approached him slowly almost cautiously without saying anything else. He could feel a vein throbbing in his neck. Something was wrong, there were too many questions unanswered for it to be 'fine'.

"Where were you all this time?"

Instead of responding she reached for his hand in his coat lingering by the gun. He let her take it in hers but his back had stiffened and he studied her face carefully for the first time. It was Robin, there was nothing that said otherwise but the truth—

"I was in a place, waiting for you," she smiled sheepishly as if wanting to make up for the lack of elaboration. She approached and pulled at his coat. Even with her standing before him as a distraction Amon could feel her slip something in his breast pocket. The truth was—

"I'm sorry about hurting you, but I had to."

She was too close and he couldn't back off, his bedside table was right behind him.

"Are you going to tell me anytime now why?" he asked harshly brushing off her grasping hands. Her green eyes were playful and he knew even if it was impossible—

Without bothering to dignify herself with a respond she grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him.

That night five days ago Amon had known it deep in his mind it hadn't been Robin. His mind had tried to process the fact and make it plausible over and over but he had known it all along. Just like now this person—this girl was not Robin, not the Robin he knew…but the trick was just too deceiving, it looked so real…and he had waited for so long…

He kissed her back.

Weh mir, oh weh…die Liebe...

Men, huh? I'll be back.