A/N: Hi people, I'm back! With Angst! I don't think I've written a singe story that isn't an angstbomb. Oops, oh well.

Pairing: Fairly obvious

Plot: Not telling

Rating: Probably not fit for children or those of delicate disposition.

Disclaimer: Not mine, yadda yadda yadda... Now on to the massacre, er, I mean story!

Amon's fingers trembled as he lifted the gun and stepped into what had, only hours earlier, been an apartment. The walls were blackened and barely standing, and there was little left of what had been inside. He surveyed the living room hastily before he moved to the other rooms one by one, arriving finally at their bedroom, and was immeasurably relieved to find it empty, if just as scorched as the rest of the rooms. He sighed and sagged against the last sturdy looking wall, unconsciously putting away his gun as he did so.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, then winced at the thick, heavy smell of ash and smoke in the air. The witch hunter silently cursed the cruelty of the fates for letting this happen. Three years had passed without even the slightest hint, then this. His fingers trembled again when he brushed them tenderly across the simple gold band that had graced his hand for nearly two years.

"Robin." A whisper, a prayer from a dead man's lips.

His heart clenched painfully from its stifled perch in his chest, but he ignored it. No, more than that, he completely detached himself from it. He had to if he was going to-, Better not finish that thought, he thought to himself. He had to think clearly, had to find Robin, and quickly.

He'd only left to get some supplies and check with his ever annoying half-brother. Robin would've joined him but she hadn't felt well, he recalled. This fire looked like it could've happened anytime in the last hour or two.

He knew, with sudden clarity, where she'd be going, and he could beat her there. He straightened and started to leave, but hesitated when he heard a crack beneath his boots. He glanced down and was startled to see a picture frame, since they never really kept pictures. He knelt, scooped it up, and slid the picture out, as it was obscured by sooty glass.

Robin smiled brightly up at him from the singed picture in a lovely white dress, and he was there too, smiling even, albeit he wasn't looking at the camera. Amon smiled sadly down at the sweet memory of his beautiful bride in white. For a moment he couldn't tear his gaze away, but then he remembered that he needed to go. He stood and tucked Robin's keepsake in his pocket, then rushed to his car.

Half an hour of serious speeding later he stood outside of Raven's Flat, lying in wait. When he saw her his breath caught quietly in his throat. She looked no different than she had earlier that day. Her plain black dress and long red coat contrasted by her strange wrapped pigtails.

She approached slowly, and her smile was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen. It promised death and destruction beyond imagining, it was cruel and even her soft green eyes screamed for blood. His heart clenched again and his hands shook as he took careful aim.

Robin didn't have time to block the first shot, and the wall of flames she threw up only succeeded in melting the bullet. The molten metal splashed over the bridge of her nose, and across her left eye, then it painted a wide, bloody trail to her hairline. Her half-moon glasses, splattered with blood and flecked with cooling metal, fell to the ground and skittered away even as she flung fire wildly at her assailant.

Amon had little trouble dodging her ill-aimed attacks, even as he charged forward. However, when he had his gun to her throat he froze, his dark eyes locked with her mocking green ones, and he tackled her instead, his hesitation having lasted but a fraction of a second.

As he lay there holding her down and pressing the good side of her face into the concrete so that she couldn't kill him, he realized something. Her face was different. It was completely void of her innocence, sweet and pure. The innocence that had always been a part of her.

This time when he raised his gun, his hands didn't tremble, even as the pressed the barrel of his gun to the center of her chest and pulled the trigger. He released her face and relaxed. It didn't matter if she killed him now, the damage had been done, and his promise fulfilled.

Suddenly she was gasping wetly in pain and shock. "Amon?" She rasped, her face turning to meet his. Amon was shocked by the fear and pain and love on her face.

"Robin?!" He shifted and cradled her gently, stroking her bangs gently away from her remaining eye. "Robin." This time not a startled cry, but a gentle, loving whisper.

One of her hands rested by the wound on her chest while the other clutched her stomach desperately, and Robin wept. "Amon, I- I'm s-sorry-"

He shook his head firmly and touched her cheek. "Don't be." Amon held her tight and pointedly ignored that she was dying.

She shuddered weakly against his chest as she bled out. "Amon." Her marred face was sad. "I-I l-lost th-the-" She choked off painfully and her hand clenched more tightly to her belly.

His eyes widened in shock as he realized what she meant, why she'd snapped. The hand that had rested against her face drifted to cover her own where it pressed desperately to her body. "You were-" He trailed off when she nodded weakly. He felt a rush of emotions he couldn't have identified even if his eighteen year old wife wasn't bleeding to death in his arms. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Robin's brow. "I love-"

She smiled weakly. "I kn-know, and I l-lo-"

He smiled against her bloodied cheek. "I know. Robin." Then she was gone.

Amon lay her gently down, knowing precisely what he had to do now.

He pulled the singed wedding photo from his pocket as an afterthought and place it in her cold hand, careful not to get too much blood on it.

He placed his faithful gun at his own temple, and winced at the cold touch of the metal.

"Robin."

A single shot pierced the night and Amon's body fell beside his wife's, his empty hand falling to land gently over hers, separated by a burned and bloodied wedding picture.

A/N: Ohi! Me again. In case I was being to subtle: Robin was pregnant, but hadn't yet told Amon, then she miscarried. This caused her to snap. Also, the picture was something that Robin kept without telling Amon.

I don't know if I got Robin's age right, but hey I think I got them both mostly in character! Or not, whatever.

*Insert clever but shameless plea for feedback here*

Bye!