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Miami. Present day:

"What did you do to him?" Calleigh asked as she eyed the FBI agent suspiciously.

"I didn't 'do' anything to him; I merely put into motion a set of events that were inevitable."

Flashback. New York 1994:

The weekend went by in a blur, much of his time spent drinking himself into oblivion. The incessant beeping of his alarm woke him on Monday morning, reaching out blindly he smacked the clock radio to silence it. "At least I made it to the bed this time," he thought to himself as he dragged a weary hand over his face. Half-heartedly going through the motions of getting ready for work he walked through to the kitchen and made himself a coffee, using the beverage to swallow two aspirin in an attempt to keep his growing headache at bay. He made himself some toast but could only force half a slice down as his stomach refused to settle. He drunk the last of his coffee before collecting his keys and wallet and heading for the door.

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible he made his way in to the squad room, returning the smiles and nods of his colleagues as best he could. He slipped in to the changing room and opened his locker, checking that no one else was around he pushed things out of the way to check the drugs were still there. He slammed the door shut as he heard Andy enter the room; the burly detective looked his partner up and down. "You look like shit, heavy weekend?"

He tried to smile and sound convincing, "Something like that."

The older detective wasn't buying it, "I'm serious, John. You don't look good; maybe you should get yourself checked out."

He needed to say something to get him off of his back, agreeing with him seemed like the best option. "Ok, I will. I promise, after we've done these reports." He left the room before his partner had a chance to reply.

He sat opposite Andy trying to concentrate on writing up his reports about the raids last week; Lieutenant Fancy wanted answers as to why nothing was found at the search of Tommy's apartment. He tapped his pencil on the table as he tried to think of something to write, he kept looking across to the entrance of the squad room and then back to his hands again. "Keep it together," he told himself. Since arriving this morning he'd had a bad feeling, Agent Collin's words were still fresh in his mind.

He was shaken from his reverie by his gruff partner, "Quit tapping, John. You're giving me a headache." The irritation in the other man's voice was clear.

He looked at Andy in confusion, unable to remember what his partner had just said. "Sorry, what did you say?" He saw the other man's eyes narrow and felt uncomfortable being the focus of his attention. He kicked himself for being caught unaware; he knew he was doing a poor job of hiding his problems. People had already started asking questions and noticing behaviour, it wouldn't be long before somebody put it all together and the whole house of cards would fall down around him.

He heard Greg Medavoy's voice from across the room, "Uh oh, here comes trouble," he stuttered as he picked up a file and began staring at it intently.

His eyes travelled up as two IAB officers entered the squad room, his heart sank as he recognised the lead detective. He knew they had come for him, somehow they had found out about him. He gripped the pencil tightly in his hands as he watched them walk over to Fancy's office, so tightly that the pencil snapped. It caught the attention of his partner who looked up at him, "Jeeze, what's gotten in to you? Afraid the rat squad have come for you?"

He could feel the walls once again begin to close in around him, his heart beating wildly in his chest as his panicked brain tried to think a way out of the mess he'd gotten himself into. In a move of complete cowardice he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair as he stood and spoke to his partner, "Andy, I gotta duck out. Can you cover for me?"

He was almost out of the room before he heard Fancy's booming voice, "Kelly, my office. Now."

The last few hours had been the worst of his life, his world fell apart around him as Rodriguez and his partner showed him picture after picture of him meeting with the Malucci brothers and their associates. At first he tried to lie his way out of the hole he was in but as he was shown more evidence he knew he would not be able to talk his way out of it.

He felt completely betrayed; Collins had been playing him the whole time. He had told the FBI agent that he wanted out, "Be careful what you wish for," he told himself as he sat in a dingy cell at the 15th precinct. He had trusted the agent and now he was left holding the bag. He knew Collins had been the one to provide IAB with the photos and it was obvious he'd told them where to find the coke, no one else knew but the two of them.

Sure, he'd wanted out but not like this. His fall from grace had been higher and harder than he'd ever imagined, as soon as Detective Adams had shoved the search warrant in his lap he knew his time was up. The worst part was seeing the look on Andy's face as the bag of cocaine was found in his locker, not that he could see all that much as he was forced face-first into a locker and cuffed. He knew he shouldn't of but he couldn't help himself as he looked back and saw the look of utter devastation on his partner's face.

They had frog-marched him to an interview room and stripped him of his gun, badge and shield before spending hours questioning him and his association with the Malucci's. He could tell his silence had irritated the IAB detectives as they continued to hound him, throughout it all he refused to break. They had formally charged him and thrown him in the cells for the night until he could be put before a judge for his bail hearing. Andy had come down to see him; he couldn't bear to look at his partner's face as he was asked questions he knew he couldn't answer. The urge to confess everything to Andy was almost more than he could bear and so he lashed out at his partner before his defences crumbled completely. As Andy walked away he was powerless to stop the tears that fell from his eyes, he had lost his job and the people he loved all in one day. He felt utterly bereft.

The duty sergeant rattled the bars of his cage and brought him back to awareness, "Get up, Kelly. It's your big day in court." He couldn't miss the sneer the officer gave him, it was obvious that word had already got out about his involvement with the Malucci's. Tucking his shirt in and straightening his tie he stood by the bars and waited for the cell to be unlocked, "Step back and don't try anything funny."

He did as he was told and was pushed roughly backwards before having a pair of cuffs put on his wrists. "Is that really necessary?"

The officer gave him a look of contempt, "You think any of us trust a dirty piece of shit like you anymore?"

He was grabbed by the arm and shoved past the rest of the cells as the other detainees jeered and whistled at him. "Could you at least put something over my arms when we get outside?"

"Forget it, Kelly. We want everyone to see what you really are."

Much of the journey to the courthouse passed in a blur, he didn't even take in half of what was being said to him as he stood in the dock ready to face the judge. He'd declined his union representative last night knowing that it would be pointless, he would be dismissed from the police force with immediate effect, of that he was sure. He hadn't even bothered to ask for a lawyer, he'd been set up and caught red-handed; no high-flying lawyer would be able to talk him out of the charges against him.

He looked around the courtroom as the judge entered; he wasn't surprised when he didn't find any of his colleagues in attendance. He took a small amount of encouragement from the fact that at least they wouldn't have to see this. The public defender assigned to him did her best to argue his case but he struggled to understand what she said, his focus centred on one thing, Robin.

She had entered the courtroom just as the hearing started; she looked utterly shocked and stared at him with her mouth open. He felt the pain lance through his chest as the charges were read out; as each crime was described out loud she shed more tears. He closed his eyes and wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole so that he didn't have to see that pained expression on her face. His lawyer had managed to get him bail which had been set at $50,000, he knew he didn't have that kind of money and resigned himself to a long stay in a detention centre until his case came to trial. "Might as well get used to it," he told himself as he was led to a holding cell.

It took him by surprise when his cell door was opened less than an hour later, "Where are we going?" he asked the officer as he was led down the past the other cells.

"Looks like your lucky day, someone's posted bail for you."