A/N: Please note, the rating is rising to an M from this chapter onwards!

Chapter 9

"This is horrible," Robin shook his head sadly as he watched his home invaded by colleagues who were dusting for fingerprints and taking DNA samples from goodness knows what. Kim looked at him sympathetically. She wished there was something she could do. This had been the last thing Robin needed after the say they'd had.

"I'm sorry, Rob," she said sadly with a sigh.

They spotted DI March walking grimly toward them and Robin rolled his eyes.

"Great, time to bring out the big guns," he sighed.

"Sir," March arrived beside them, "I'm so very sorry this has happened to you."

Robin gave another sigh and rubbed his head.

"Just find out if it was Layton," he said.

"Yes, well," March seemed to become a little defensive suddenly, "I'm not sure how far we're going to get on that one."

Robin frowned.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

March looked a little hesitant.

"The prints from Falcon Building," he began.

Robin stared on, expecting him to continue but he went strangely quiet.

"What about them?" he prompted.

"We didn't find Layton's," March explained.

Robin stared at him.

"What do you mean you didn't find Layton's?" he frowned.

"Perhaps he was smarter than we have him credit for," March explained, "maybe he was wearing gloves."

"But you pulled fresh prints!" Robin cried, "they said so, we were there!"

"The only prints we found belonged to the previous owner of the property," March told him.

Robin began to turn cold.

"Keats?" he asked, his voice shaking. March nodded. "But I don't get it – I spoke to one of the officers myself, she thought the prints were fresh from their location and the fact that the flat had been checked for prints the last time Layton had been there…"

"No new prints from Layton were identified," March said again, a little apologetically. "That doesn't mean to say we won't find them here if it was him. You said he ate your leftovers – I can't see him wearing gloves to tuck into a lasagne. We found prints on the cutlery, once we've ruled out yours that will hopefully prove one way or the other if Layton was your visitor."

Robin sank into the couch.

"This is a nightmare," he mumbled, "a total nightmare."

"We won't be finished here for a while," March apologised, "I still think it's a good idea for you to get some sleep."

"After Layton spent a night in my bed?" Robin shuddered, "I might never sleep again."

"Do you have anyone else you can stay with?" March asked, "family?"

Robin shook his head slowly and looked down. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Come to mine," Kim said quietly.

Robin looked at her gratefully.

"Thanks" he said quietly.

Kim hesitated.

"That's unless Layton's already there," she said quietly.

"How would he know where you live?"

"How did he know where you lived?"

"Listen, we don't even know if Layton was the one who broke in here," March said, "we'll get the results of the prints and the hair samples we found in the bed as soon as possible. In the meanwhile, do what she says, go and get some kip on her couch and we'll see you at six."

"What about my door?" Robin mumbled a little half-heartedly.

"Someone will be staying here as long as you need," March told him "crime scene. Tomorrow you can get someone to fix your door, in the meanwhile no one else is going to come and take advantage of the open house."

"Come on, Rob." Kim said quietly, "go and grab some things and we'll go and get some sleep at mine."

"I'm not going to be able to sleep after this," sighed Robin.

"Just try," said Kim. She glanced around. "Anything you want to take?"

"I'm kind of used to travelling light," Robin gave a half-smile as he thought about their time 'on the run' with Alex, fleeing from place to place, sleeping in strange beds wearing random pieces of clothing, never knowing what was around the corner.

Kim smiled back.

"Good point," she said, "come on. Let's get out of here."

Robin couldn't help but feel relieved to be leaving the flat as Kim led him away. The thought of someone breaking in made him feel soiled and disturbed but the idea that it had been Layton made him feel positively haunted. He couldn't stand being there a moment longer. Plus, when all of this was over he would have some serious disinfecting to do.

~xXx~

Keats didn't even know what he was doing as he approached the man. His limbs were shaking so much that he could hardly control them. He kept his hands firmly in his pockets to stop his trembles from being seen and arrived by his side. The man looked him up and down. There was contempt in his eyes. Keats swallowed and spoke words that came to him so unnaturally.

"I need something," he whispered, his voice shaking too.

The man looked away.

"Do you now?"

Keats jiggled a little on the spot. What the hell was he supposed to do? He didn't speak 'drug'!

"W-what have you got?" he asked.

The man looked back at him. He regarded him like something a cat had done in his shoe.

"For you?" he wiped his nose, "Nothing."

"Listen I don't think you understand," Keats's tone became angry and desperate as he edged closer to the man.

"I understand you've got a death wish to show your face around here," the man spat.

Keats reached into his pocket and pulled out the money he stole from Evan.

"I've got thirty pounds," he said. The man gave a sneering laugh that seemed to come from his nostrils and turned away. "Just give me the stuff!"

"I'll give you a bloody kicking –" the man began but something as rose up inside of Keats an angry elbow dug deep into his chest. The man gasped and fell back against the wall, shocked by Keats's actions. A combination of the rage of two men, the pure evil that lay within Keats and the desperation from Layton's addiction made him a very dangerous person to cross.

"Give me the stuff!" he spat, his elbow pressed to his throat. When the man hesitated he shoved it in a little deeper, causing the man to gag and choke.

"OK! OK!" he gasped, desperate for breath He reached into an inner pocket in his coat and thrust a small package upon Keats. "Your usual, sir."

Keats swallowed.

"I need equipment," he spat.

"What? You must have a ton of –"

"Equipment!" Keats spat. When he grew bored with waiting for the man to give him what he needed he took matters into his own hands. A fist in the stomach, a kick to follow, a boot in the face – when the man stopped moving Keats finally stopped kicking him and started rummaging through his pockets. He found a tin with everything he needed. He didn't care whose needles he used – this was only a temporary body anyway, he was under no illusions about that. He also found a nice little packet of cocaine, for personal use.

"Hmm, speedballing," Keats said quite happily, before wondering where that sentence had come from and why he felt excited about the prospect. The sound of footsteps brought him back to reality – the reality of a man lying on the ground in a pool of blood with Keats's boot mark in his guts. It was time to leave, as fast as possible. He jumped back in the car and turned the key in the ignition. He knew it was almost time to get rid of that car and pick up another. There would be time for that soon enough, he was sure for now he needed to get well away from the half-dead dealer and fill his veins with something so unfamiliar to one part of him and yet second nature to the physical.

~xXx~

Kim felt anxious as they arrived at her flat. She really felt sure she'd find her own door smashed in but there was no sign of any damage. She breathed a sigh of relief as she led Robin in.

"It's not like you don't know the place," she said, "go and sit down, I'll be right there."

Robin dragged his exhausted body through to the lounge.

"Why? Where are you going?" he asked.

Kim disappeared into the kitchen for a moment. She dropped her keys on the table then came back with a piece of paper and a sad smile upon her face.

"Letter from Linda," she said, "and the boys." she walked across the room and fetched a bottle. "God, I'm glad I told them to go away while Layton's on the loose."

"What are you doing?" Robin asked as Kim thrust a glass into his hand and started pouring out scotch.

"It's medicinal," she told him.

Robin didn't bother protesting that he didn't want it. These were extreme circumstances.

"Thanks," he said quietly. Just the fumes of the liquid made his eyes water but he took a sip nevertheless.

"Poor Evan," Kim said as she poured her own drink, "even he didn't deserve the trouserless treatment."

Robin coughed a little, then looked at Kim seriously.

"Kim, you were there on the roof. We all saw Layton. He was a wreck. There's no way he would have been strong enough, physically or mentally, to do all this stuff."

Kim drank some more scotch, rather quickly. She had been thinking all the same things.

"Maybe… maybe the time in his coma meant that the physical effects of the drugs lessened and he woke up without withdrawal?" she suggested.

"No one comes out of a coma strong enough to batter a couple of guards and stab a doctor like that," said Robin. "Kim, I've been there. After my accident… my time in ninety five… I was out cold for days and when I woke up it took me so long to regain the strength to even stand. Something's not right."

Kim took a deep breath. She tactfully ignored Robin spluttering as he drank and tried to think about things logically.

"Alright," she said quietly, "then what about Layton's accident?" She bit her lip. "You and Alex crashed. Alex went home. What if something happened to Layton?"

Robin had a momentary, horrible thought of Layton waking up in Alex's body and shuddered at the idea.

"I don't know if I'm following you" he said.

"Well, could a younger Layton have woken up here?" Kim suggested, "maybe there's a criminal version of that world?"

Robin rubbed his forehead. His head was starting to loll a little. Despite his protests he was so tired he could just about fall asleep right there and then.

"But Layton's always been a bit of a mess," he said, "it seems like he's woken up with a totally different personality."

"You do hear of people waking up from comas and behaving differently," said Kim.

Robin spluttered into his glass as he laughed.

"Yeah, sometimes from the whole going back in time thing!" he commented.

"OK, bad example," sighed Kim, but she smiled.

Robin sipped from his glass again. This time he didn't splutter or choke. His mind ran over another possibility.

"Maybe if there is a criminal version of that place, Layton went back there?" he asked, "Maybe – like us – he went back to a difficult year in his own life and woke up all… self-assured?"

Kim downed the rest of her drink. She was surprised to find her hands were shaking.

"Oh, let's face it," she said quietly, "we can go through every possibility and it doesn't change the fact that Layton is on the loose and we still need to find him."

Robin nodded slowly.

"I know," he said.

Kim glanced at the clock.

"It's getting late," she said, "I know what you told March but you really do look tired. Maybe we should try to get some sleep."

Robin nodded slowly.

"I suppose you're right," he said.

"Come on," Kim dragged herself to her feet and hauled Robin up from the sofa, "off to bed with you."

"Wouldn't be the first time I've slept in your bed," he commented.

Kim gave a little wistful smile. There were elements of the situation reminding her of their time with Alex. It made her feel a little nostalgic.

"You're not borrowing my pyjamas though," she warned.

Robin laughed.

"It's a deal," he said.

~xXx~

The car came to a halt as the toilet block became the most beautiful thing Keats had ever seen. He could hardly function by now as he stumbled out of the car and towards the dimly-lit block. He tumbled into the doorway, threw himself into a cubicle and locked the door. Slowly he pulled the lid over the toilet and sat down. It wasn't as though he had any experience with this… it wasn't as though he knew what to do… but something within him – within Layton - took him over and carried out the steps as though they were second nature.

The second Keats felt the rush spreading through his body was a moment he would never forget. He leaned back against the cistern, hardly believing something could have such a strong impact on his body. The rush was incredible; the euphoria stuck him with an intensity he had never expected. While for Layton this was a daily occurrence, for Keats this was an experience to behold. He started to wonder which of the deadly sins this would come under, because he was certainly going to bump whichever one it was up his list.

He didn't know how long passed. He didn't know how long he was sitting there, the high taking control of his body and mind, but finally someone started hammering on the door and demanding to come in for a crap.

He started to panic a little. He rushed around, gathering up all the equipment and the evidence, hiding it under his coat before he opened the door and ran, ran as fast as he could so that the desperate man couldn't see his features.

As he raced back onto the street he saw someone looking at his car. Well, Evan's car, examining the number plate.

Shit. It's been on the news.

It was time to leave it behind. Time to find a new vehicle to carry on the journey.

Just a short distance away he saw a man standing by the open driver's side door of a car. He was yelling something to a rather tartily-dressed woman who was walking away and sticking two fingers up at the man.

"Oh, come on, Michelle! Nothing happened! I wouldn't fuck your best mate!" the man cried, "get back in the car and we'll talk about this, yeah?"

The woman yelled back something Keats couldn't quite catch but the words "you bastard" and "lop off your cock with a blunt instrument" were heard.

"Don't be stupid!" the man cried after her, "you're far away from home, you've not got the money for a cab, just get in and I'll drive you back!"

It was now or never.

"Very kind of you," Keats hissed as he ran towards him from behind, jamming his elbow into the side of the man's head, knocking him sideways and jumping in the car. He slammed the door and turned the keys already in the ignition. The man scrambled to his feet and tried pulling on the door but Keats wasn't having that. He began to speed away as far as the car and the traffic would allow and finally managed to slip down a side road, away from the glare of the public.

A shout of elation came from deep within him. Another battle won. He knew that he was still on borrowed time and that he would have to work fast to cause the maximum amount of suffering in the small amount of time he had, but the car would buy him a little more time.

"That's two appetites sated," he whispered to himself, "two down, one to go."

~xXx~

"I didn't think this whole travelling light thing through very well, did I?" sighed Robin as he took off his shoes.

"What do you mean?"

"I've got nothing to sleep in," Robin sighed again.

"I told you, you're not borrowing my pyjamas," said Kim. She got into bed fully clothed and pulled the duvet up around her neck. It was a silly, childish way of seeking comfort and reassurance but it seemed to do the trick.

"I'll just taker my shirt off," Robin said, "I don't want to look as crumped as a crisp packet when we turn up in the morning."

Kim looked at his arm and shoulder as he shrugged off his shirt.

"Tattoo's healing well," she smiled.

Robin pulled his arm around a little to glance at it himself.

"You did a wonderful job," he told her, "I'm glad you're not giving up the tattooing full time. That would be a real waste of talent."

"You mean you want to get another freebie," Kim laughed.

"Hey, I more than earned that tattoo in the cost of pizza ingredients," Robin teased. As they both laughed it felt natural and 'normal', as though they were just two friends chatting. But the thought of Layton was always there at the edge of their minds.

"I'll put the alarm on," Kim told him, "we'll get up at five."

"Getting up in your house at ridiculous times of the morning seems to be a running theme," Robin commented.

He rolled over with his back to Kim and tried to get the pillow comfortable.

"Did you have those muscles last week?" asked Kim.

"Hmm?" Robin was already starting to fell asleep, "Oh. Joined a gym. Few weeks ago."

"You did?" This seemed like particularly amusing news to Kim who immediately felt guilty for laughing.

"After I had Alex faint on me about three times and couldn't even lift her up I decided maybe it was time I got a bit more strength in my body," said Robin.

"Not mocking you," Kim held her hands up, "honestly."

"Good," mumbled Robin as he began to drift away, "cos when I've bulked up you'll be sorry."

Before Kim could get in a sarcastic reply Robin had already started to snore gently. She settled down beside him and closed her eyes. It had been a nightmare of a day and she knew things could only get darker from this point on. But she also knew they'd faced the seemingly impossible once before and come through it together. Whatever surprises Layton had in store for them the next day, they'd be ready.

On that thought, she found sleep taking her away and the troubles of the day left her behind, just for a few hours. Soon they'd be back on the trail. For now, they only thing they needed to chase was sleep.