Hi, next one. Let me know what you think. I'm back to writing so hopefully get this one done soon!

Chapter 13

"How dare you? Robin has been through enough! Who knows if those three guys were all..."

"Mum! Stop. I do need to go to the office. Do you have a key?" She looked at Strike, he looked as though he was gearing up to something. "Cormoron, are you ok?" He smiled.

"I should be asking you that."

"I'm fine," she heard her mum grunt her disagreement, but Stike didn't look at her, his eyes steady on Robin's.

"You need to go to the flat, key is in my desk drawer – Barclay should've put it back. The documents are under my bed, in a shoe box marked SIB. Only hand over the gun licence, nothing else from under the bed, ok?"

"Of course... why what will I find?"

"Nothing, nothing to worry about. Just make sure it's only those documents. Then..."

"Look, this is ridiculous... Robin needs to rest. She should be at home..." Strike acted as though Linda hadn't spoken.

"It has to be you. Only you can decide what happens to them..."

"To what?" She pulled her chair closer to his bed, his hand coming up to her cheek, the silence pressing in on them. His quiet voice sounding loud.

"I... I got sent pictures. Of you."

"What?" she moved forward, hand coming up to meet him on her cheek, holding it, bringing it to the base of her neck.

"They sent them to me. The day after..."

"Are these the pictures Wardle asked your dad about?" But still they ignored her.

"They sent them to you? All of them?" She was quiet as she asked, scared of the answer. Strike knew she was thinking of that fourth picture. His face must have changed, she let out a sob and buried her face in her hands.

"It's ok," he started to sit up, wanting to be closer to her. His chest hurt and he groaned out loud. She moved closer, meeting him halfway, sitting on the bed, lying on his arm, crying as he wrapped his arm around her. Linda had stood up, but he waved her away, "She's fine."

oOo

Linda had only ever been to Robin's office once before. It hadn't changed. Except the addition of Pat, who was older and descended upon Robin as soon as they entered.

"I'm so glad to see you. I was so worried. How's Cormoron? He was so worried about you," she was saying this as she hugged Robin, giving Linda a cold look.

"I'm glad to see you too. He's – he's going to be fine, but it'll take a while. You might have to take some time off."

"Don't worry about that. I take it you're not here for a visit?"

"I wanted to see you. I need to get something from Cormoron's flat..." she left Linda in the main office as she got the key out the desk drawer.

"Sam put the key back in the drawer. Do you want tea?"

"Ok, we have time for tea."

They sat chatting, about the weather, recent cases. Robin was distant, not getting involve, Linda noticed Pat continuing to look at her daughter.

"Robin dear... how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she said it automatically, and Pat knew it.

"Ok. I'm so glad to have you back. Cormoron... he was so worried about you. Did everything he could to find you..."

"Where did he get the money?"

"The...?"

"The money, he had the ransom money. Do you know where he got it?"

"No. He just called Barclay saying he had it. Then Barclay went after him. Sorry..."

"No, it's ok. I just wondered. We need to get going, up to Cormoron's flat. Thanks for the tea, Pat, it was so good to see you."

"You too love, stay in touch. I'll be ready to get back here when you both are." They hugged, Linda watching the exchange, holding the door open for Robin to lead the way.

"She's nice."

"She's the best. It's up there, you can wait here."

"You're about to relive these photos... I want to be..."

"No, it's his home."

"Let me help you, he wouldn't grudge that. Not for you." They looked at each other, Robin smiling, nodding. They slowly started climbing. "How the hell does he manage these stairs?"

"He is perfectly able to..."

"I know, I didn't mean he wasn't... I mean with his leg... or without his leg should I say."

"Without..." Robin had reached his door, turning to look at Linda, "What do you mean?"

"Well... when he was at the station, that day you were... he didn't have his – prosthesis? That's what it's called right?"

"He didn't have it on? I knew his leg was bad when he came for diner, but he put it on to save face with you two..." as she turned to push the door open, Linda heard her mutter, "fat load of good it did." She didn't reply.

The first thing Linda thought as she crossed the threshold was how clean and tidy the room was. Not a thing out of place, not a dirty dish in sight. She expected dirty clothes, beer bottles on the table, rotting food in the sink. Her surprise must have shown.

"Not what you expected, hum?" Robin was smiling, a genuine smile, "He hates mess. He's not what you think..." She looked away as she walked to his bedroom, Linda staying at the door, looking around.

Robin got on her hands and knees, finding the boxes as soon as she looked under the bed. Two boxes side by side, crutches beside them. Again, it was tidy. She pulled out box one, labelled ''69-'89'. She paused, the years of his childhood. She opened the lid without thinking. Pictures, stacked on top of each other. She recognised Leda straight away, her face taking up most of the photo. Smiling, Robin looked at the next few, stopping at the fifth. It was the first one with Strike in it. He looked around 15, he had his arm around a younger girl. Robin could feel how close Strike and Lucy were in the photo, the way he held her tightly to him, arm around her shoulder. Lucy had a bruise on her left cheek. The left side of Strike's face was black and blue. Neither were smiling as they looked at the camera with guarded expressions. Keep moving.

She pushed it back under the bed, taking the other box. It was heavy, full of papers that spoke words and abbreviations she knew nothing about. She found the licence near the top. As she moved it back, something heavy moved inside it. She re-opened the box and was racking through it before she realised. His medal. It was cold to the touch. She closed her eyes, put it back in the box and shoved it back under the bed. As she went to get up, she grabbed the crutches.

"Got it, let's..." She stopped on seeing Linda sitting at the table, the small brown box in front of her. "Have you looked?"

"No. It's up to you." But Robin was walking to the table, pulling the box towards her and opened it, Linda right beside her. She was on autopilot.

"Robin..."

But she wasn't listening. The note was on top; wish you were here. She heard Linda gasp, taking the note from her. Putting her hand in, she pulled out the underwear.

"Oh my god Robin... what...?"

"They took them off... nothing else. Obviously... they wanted him to have them. Knew what it would do to him." She sounded cold, detached, thinking of the protective nature of the photo she had just seen. She put them to the side, removing the four pictures. She felt tears down her cheeks, Linda put her hand on her shoulder, looking at the pictures with her. The first showed Robin screaming with a knife at her throat, the second a man pulling her underwear down with her head thrown back, the third the man with his hand on her thigh, up her dress. The fourth was facing the other way, but Robin turned it over, letting out a sob as she quickly put it down. Linda had let out a noise of pain as the picture was turned over.

"Oh my god... Robin... look at me..."

"They sent him these. He had to look at them... he would've... he would've felt so... this would've hurt him so much."

"But you..."

"I know nothing happened, he looked at these and didn't know. He would've thought they had...he would've been so upset."

"Robin..."

"He would've thought he didn't protect me."

"It's ok. He knows now."