A/N: A word of warning, from the next chapter of Dead Man Walking on Sunday night I will be raising the rating to an M for increasingly adult concepts and disturbing behaviour on the part of a crazed Keats/Layton hybrid!

Chapter 8

It was dark by the time Keats pulled up close to the barge. Good, he thought. Perfect. No one would see. In fact, there was no one around to see anyway.

He shivered and twitched as he sat in the car, the sound of Molly writhing and wriggling in the boot. His stomach was still full of lasagne and pizza, but there was another hunger that was gnawing away at him now. He'd been fighting it back for a long time but the barrage of memories from Layton that came forth in his dream had brought back with them the yearning for the kind of substances that Keats had never used in his life. He might have been many things but he'd certainly never been tempted to dabble in drugs. The only drugs he used were ones he slipped into the drinks of other people.

He found himself scratching at his arms. Why was he doing that? They weren't even itching.

"Oh stop that," he told himself angrily.

He got out of the car and slowly made his way down the tunnel to the barge. To say it was derelict was an understatement. The floor felt as though it could give way at any second. He couldn't see the inside of the boat all that well. The only light around was prom the headlights of the car. It wasn't exactly Buckingham Palace but it would do, certainly for what Keats had in mind.

He returned to the car and, first of all, collected up the non-human items he'd collected. His coat from his old flat, Evan's briefcase full of snacks, a bottle of water, Robin's pizza and a couple of photographs; the one of his parents and the one he'd stolen from Robin's flat. He hated to even admit that he'd taken it or why. He couldn't even allow himself to acknowledge that it was the image of the female half of the 'Anti-Evan Duo' that he couldn't bear to leave behind. Seeing Kim older, so different with her long dark hair and more tattoos than he'd ever seen before was strange and intriguing. Her different look took nothing away from the fact that this was still Kim; the woman so deeply ingrained in his thoughts that staring at her picture set off a hunger of a different kind inside of him.

Oh God, and it was driving him crazy. It seemed as though being in a living body had made every desire so much stronger. Thoughts of Kim on all those nights flooded back to him. He tried to shake those thoughts away. They were nothing but a distraction, a bloody distraction from the plan. He knew he had a lot of work to do and he needed to stop thinking about her, at least for the time being. She would feature later on. He'd make sure of that. Until then, he had to try to keep his mind away from that subject.

For the first time he started to rummage through Evan's belongings in the car. There were a few items in the glove compartment; a map, some keys to god knows what, a packet of Chewits and a few of his beard modelling photographs that he kept around to sign for fans. Not that he had very many of those these days. Which was probably why there so many photographs. There was, however, a small torch which Keats felt was a real gift indeed.

He took a bundle of items onto the barge for safe keeping then returned to the car one last time for Molly. He knew he wasn't in for an easy ride when the first thing she did was slam her legs into his chest the second he opened the boot. He tumbled backwards, the wind knocked from him for a moment as he watched her wriggle until she felt from the boot and landed with a hard thump on the ground.

"Well what a silly little girl you are," he hissed, "full of beans, full of fight but not a grain of sense in your head." He paused to scoop her up from the ground. "Just like another female Drake I know." He struggled to hold her as Molly let her body go limp and turned herself in a dead-weight. Layton's body was still not the strongest and he had a great deal of trouble lugging her down to the barge. Finally he threw her to the ground, turned on the torch and began to look around. There was a length of rope to one side so he grasped it and used it to tie her up a little more firmly, then he removed her gag. The ear-splitting shriek reminded him that he'd forgotten to give her a no-shouting warning.

"Oh shush, you stupid brat," he said, covering her mouth with his hand, "there's no one around, no one's going to hear you, all you'll do is lose your voice. Yeargh!" her teeth sank into his hand and he withdrew it quickly. He found Molly staring at him with absolute fury in her eyes. He hadn't expected that. He'd expected fear and terror, not anger. It unnerved him a little.

"They're going to find me here," she said, "they'll all be looking for you and they'll find me. And when they do I'll stand up in court and I'll tell them what you've done so they'll have to throw you in jail forever."

"Forever is a long time, girl," Keats spat. He unscrewed the cap on the water bottle and pressed it to her lips. "Here. Drink."

Molly hesitated for a moment. The last thing she wanted to do was follow Layton's instructions but her mouth was dry and her thirst was raging so she drank thirstily for a few seconds until he withdrew the bottle, refastened the cap and put her gag back on, amid much thrashing and struggling.

"Now," he said as he finished tying the gag and pushed her over, "You – stay." He managed to tie her to a fixing at the side of the barge and got to his feet. He stared at the girl, a little Alex in the making. "Sure you won't be lonely for long, he sneered. "There are a few old friends I'm looking forward to catching up with. I'll be inviting them back here for a fun-filled evening of entertainment." He turned and began to walk away. "Try not to struggle too much. No idea how old this thing is. Wouldn't want you to knock a hole in the bottom and sink to the bottom of the river like a little teenage anchor."

One lingering laugh was all he left behind as he exited the barge and retreated to the car. He suspected it was time to find himself a new vehicle. Evan's would be all over the news by now. Hmm, he fancied something sportier this time. Might as well have some fun. After all, how many times do you get the chance of an extra life – aside from when you're playing Sonic 2, that is.

~xXx~

"Shit, I'm fucking exhausted," Robin rubbed his head as he and Kim trailed back to the station. They had been on the trail of Layton for hours now. How had the trail gone cold after Evan? Pleas to the public for information had only resulted in people 'tweeting' BBC News to tell them it 'served the weird bearded one right'. Even news of Molly's kidnap hadn't helped. That just made people send in messages about her being better off with Layton because 'He might be a madman but at least he's never been a beard model.'

They were met by DI March who was looking stressed.

"We're bringing in a second shift of officers for searching," he said, "and there's a fresh search of woodland starting at dawn."

Robin felt his stomach clench like a fist.

"Searching woodland?" he repeated, "Why?" he already knew the answer but didn't want to acknowledge it.

"For the girl's body," March told him.

Kim looked at Robin's stricken face. She didn't really know Molly, she'd met her once or twice in passing, but knew Robin had come to know her better than that. She tried to give Robin a break from having to do the talking.

"Where are they planning to search?" she asked.

There's an area of woodland near Mister White's home," March told them, "it backs onto a golf course. We'll be reconvening at six." He looked at them seriously. "We want you out there, so for now go home and get some rest."

"We need to be here," Robin began but March cut him off.

"You've been searching for hours, you'll be good for nothing by the early hours of the morning," he said, "it's pitch black, it's cold, the search has pulled up nothing. We need daylight to see what's out there, if anything," he added hastily, "so go home. Get some sleep, and something to eat. Be back here at six."

Robin tried feebly to argue but his strength was waning. Despite his earlier bravado he was feeling exhausted, mentally rather than physically, and was almost glad of having someone else telling him what to do. Evan's words about Layton being 'different' were playing through his head non-stop and he needed to switch off, just for a little while, before he went crazy.

He left slowly with Kim, both feeling anxious and deflated that the search had so far gone cold. As they trailed out to the car park Kim turned to Robin and asked nervously,

"Can I ask you a big favour?"

"Does it involve me giving you a sample in a pot this time? Asked Robin.

"No, not that big a favour," said Kim. She looked a little hesitant as she rested her hand on the door of Robin's car. "Can I come and stay with you? I told Linda to get the boys away for a couple of days until this is over. I know it sounds like an overreaction but after what happened to Molly I'm terrified Layton's going to go after my kids."

Robin shook his head.

"Not an overreaction at all," said Robin. In all honestly they had no idea who Layton would be going after but anyone connected to the roof incident seemed like a strong possibility, "you did the right thing."

"I don't feel very safe going home on my own," Kim confessed.

If he was honest, neither did Robin.

"Come back to mine," he said, "we're probably safest together."

They climbed into the car and Robin started the engine.

"Would there be the possibility of pizza?" Kim asked.

Robin gave a gentle laugh.

"Kim, there is always the possibility of pizza," he said.

The short drive to Robin's passed in near silence. Both he and Kim were exhausted and too worried to really think of anything much to say. The thought of getting in and locking the door behind them was a very appealing one.

However, the illusion of feeling safe behind a locked door faded away pretty rapidly as they arrived. They could see something was wrong even before they reached the door.

"Oh fu-u-u-u-u-u…." Robin didn't even finish his swear word as he ran towards it. The door was ajar, the lock busted and wood splintered around it. He turned to Kim in utter alarm "Someone's been here."

"Yeah, I noticed that," Kim said a little sarcastically, but it was mostly through fear. Cautiously Robin let the door swing open and turned on the light.

"Police!" he yelled, "you're surrounded!"

"Oh yeah, surrounded," Kim mocked.

"You want to do this?" Robin offered sarcastically.

"Not really."

"Right – then let me carry on lying to the intruder!" Robin cried. He peered down the hallway and began to creep inside.

"Layton?" Kim asked in a whisper.

Robin glanced around.

"Can't imagine coincidences come in extra-large," he said.

They arrived at the kitchen where the sight of an empty Tupperware container and a lone pizza crust on the table struck them.

"The bastard!" cried Robin, "He's eaten my leftovers! He's eaten all my bloody leftovers!"

He opened the fridge to confirm this fact.

"Does that mean pizza's off?" asked Kim, getting her priorities straight.

Robin tiptoed back out of the room and peered in the lounge.

"Nothing seems to be amiss in here," he said, then retreated and started to make his way to the bedroom. He flicked on the light and the sight of a scruffy, unmade bed greeted him. "And he's been sleeping in my bed!" he cried.

Kim started to get a little excited.

"Gosh, this is just like Goldilocks and the Three Bears except with your mates!" she cried, then felt a little guilty about her excitable outburst and tried to tone it down.

"I can't believe it," Robin shook his head, his face turning red in fury, "I can't sleep in there now! It's got Layton cooties all over it!"

Kim watched as Robin left the room and tried another. She shook her head slowly. This seemed strange. It all seemed very strange indeed. Layton was a desperate man – this was far too audacious for someone on the run.

"URGH!"

The cry from Robin made her turn cold from head to toe.

"What?" she cried.

Robin came running back towards her looking frantic.

"The bastard!" he cried.

"What?"

"He done a crap!" His anger was growing so strong that he lost his grasp on the English language, "He done a crap in my toilet and he didn't fucking flush!"

"At least he did it in the toilet," Kim pointed out, but Robin noted she didn't volunteer to go and check the room herself.

Robin sank to the floor, his head in his hands.

"Fuck," he breathed.

Kim knelt beside him. She looked at his fallen expression. He looked empty and devastated. On top of everything else, his home had been violated.

"I'm sorry, Rob," she said quietly, "we were broken into once. Makes you feel just wretched." She glanced around. "Doesn't look like they've taken anything?" she said a little hopefully.

Robin let out his breath.

"Except our dinner," he said.

Kim sighed.

"Except that," she agreed.

Robin closed his eyed.

"Well, it looks like there'll be no sleep for us anyway," he said quietly, "I'd better call in. They'll need to get some prints right away. If this is Layton…" he hung his head. "Fuck, Kim, why would he have done this?"

"We still don't know for sure," Kim reminded him.

"Who else would have done this?"

"It just seems like an awful lot of bother for someone on the run to go to," said Kim, "wouldn't he be trying to get as far away as possible, not hanging around in the same place?"

Robin shrugged.

"You heard Evan," he said, "Layton's turned into a showman. He's doing this for a reason." He got to his feet and left the bedroom to find his phone. Kim sighed anxiously and stared at the unmade bed. What the hell was Layton playing at? Whatever it was, this was a brand new game and Kim didn't know the rules.

~xXx~

He couldn't block them out. The all-consuming cravings that filled every inch of his body. He hated them. They were abhorrent to his nature. His body twitched and trembled and he could hardly focus to drive.

The need for drugs had started to grow more severe after leaving Molly on the barge. Being on the barge had brought a little more of Layton to the surface, and with it came the desperate need to shoot up.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the rear view mirror. He could hardly recognise the twisted expression on Layton's face, the desperation and the need.

"Fuck!" he cried as he slammed on the brakes, a whisker away from hitting a lamp post. He breathed heavily, staring out of the window. What was he doing here? Why had he driven in that direction anyway? That wasn't where he had intended to go. But apparently it was where Layton intended to go.

He saw a man in a long raincoat, standing on the side of the street. A couple of young men were walking away from him. Keats took one look at the guy and knew. Knew what some part of Layton had led him there for. It wasn't what he wanted to do, not in the slightest – but it was what he needed to do.

He didn't have a choice. Layton had spoken.

~xXx~

"Sit tight and wait for help," Robin rolled his eyes as he sank into the couch beside Kim, "Now I know what it's like to be on the other side of the line. It's really not very comforting when someone's broken in and that's the advice you're given."

Kim looked at Robin's expression. He had a kind of mocking pout on but his eyes were dark and troubled. She patted his arm gently and told him,

"At least we're both here."

"And to think you came back here for safety!" Robin reminded her. He sighed deeply. "Do you want anything to eat? I know Layton's eaten all the good stuff but I could make something quickly or we could call for a take-away."

Kim shook her head slowly.

"I couldn't eat now, my stomach's in knots," she said.

"Mine too," Robin sighed. He leaned back. "There was some wine left from dinner the other night, it's all yours if you want it."

"Oh, now you're talking," Kim said with a gentle laugh.

"Wait there," said Robin as he got to his feet to fetch the bottle and a glass.

While he was out of the room Kim flicked on the TV.

"Just seeing what the media's saying," she explained as Robin returned.

Robin sat beside her and handed her the glass. He poured out the wine, then turned to the screen.

"Oh great, my ugly mug's on the TV again," he mumbled as he saw a picture of himself and one of Kim. It seemed that he was on the news more often than he was off it now.

"Chief Inspector Robin Shoebury-Thomas was involved in the rooftop confrontation and is now pursuing Arthur Layton," the newsreader said.

"Comment about me losing my marbles and tattooing police dogs in five, four, three, two, one…"

"Mister Shoebury-Thomas was seen asking tattooists if they would tattoo his police dogs some weeks ago…"

"See?" cried Robin, "you see? I am never living that down!"

"Arthur Layton is wanted for the shooting of four people, including Detective Inspector Alex Drake. He is also thought to be under suspicion of flooding the market with heavily tainted narcotics responsible for the deaths of three people including the undercover detective Victoria Stone."

"Shit, did you hear about that?" asked Robin.

"Oh god, that's the woman who was all over the news when we were helping Alex," Kim seemed a little shaken to see her. "You know, when the story came out she looked really familiar but I never could place her. I thought maybe I'd seen her around back when I was in the force before but," she shook her head slowly and sighed. "I don't know. Sometimes I think my memory is one big piece of swiss cheese."

"Detective Inspector Stone's death raised questions about the support offered to undercover detectives and officers," the newsreader continued, "After being assigned to infiltrate the inner circle of Nick Nailer, the notorious drug baron arrested last month, Ms Stone became addicted to narcotics and died after consuming a large amount of tainted heroin. Initial investigations showed that the drugs did not come from Nailer, that her habit had become so severe she had found an alternative supply to keep the severity of her problem a secret from the man she was trying to trap."

"Sad, so sad," Robin shook his head.

"Two other deaths in the capital in the following days led police to a tainted supply belonging to Arthur Layton who was thought to be making yet another attempt at building up a supply line again before his accident and coma."

"Shit, that man just digs himself into deeper and deeper holes, doesn't he?" sighed Robin.

As he and Kim sat and awaited the arrival of help and those eager to dust for prints they both wished that they felt a little less on edge. It wasn't just Layton being on the loose, nor Robin's break-in that was making them feel this way. It felt as though something bigger was brewing, something neither could quite put their finger on. Whatever it was, they tried to block those thoughts out with the volume of the TV and the reassuring glances between them.

The hope and the prayer that Layton would be behind bars by morning seemed to be edging further away from them – and so did their bravado.