Prologue

It wasn't as though Gene couldn't tie his own tie, it was just that she wanted to do it for him. It was a gesture. Love. Support. Unity. They were three things that Alex and Gene always shared but never more so than on a day that held such fear, yet so much promise too. Alex straightened the tie as she looked Gene in the eye.

"There. All done," she said quietly.

"You think I'll convince them on the power of me formalwear?" Gene asked, raising one eyebrow slightly.

"I'm hoping we've got more convincing evidence on our side that your suit," Alex told him as she dusted down his sleeves, removing imaginary lint. She knew that she was just looking for distraction. She couldn't help it. The nature of the day was too daunting. She needed to take her mind off it in any way necessary. Dusting the arms of Gene's suit was just one such method. She'd already polished the salt pot, ironed a handkerchief and learnt the order of the musicians appearing in the BBC 'Perfect Day' advert.

"We've got plenty, Bolly." Gene told her as he pulled on his tie and loosened her handiwork a little, "mark my words. That arsebox isn't going to know what hit him. Except maybe my knuckles if he gets too close."

Alex frowned.

"Arsebox?"

"Testing out some new insults."

Alex nodded incredulously and turned to the mirror to check her reflection. She looked pretty much as she expected – scared out of her mind. She wasn't sure she's ever been more anxious in her life. The day of the start of Keats's trial had finally arrived and it had been a long time coming. Now he was answering to so many charges that Alex wondered if he was trying to fill out the I Spy Book of Serious Crimes; get 2 points for committing GBH, 5 for rape, 10 for murder and a bonus point every time he slips a little something in your drink.

So much was riding on this trial. It was about more than trying to put Keats in jail – the vital part was to rid him of his title. After all, without that step he could just slip out of his cell through whatever strange and ethereal method he had used to get out of prison in the past. But if that title was taken from him then his power would be too and his hold over Fenchurch West, Kim and anyone else he came into contact with would fade to nothing.

Alex swallowed. She looked pale and scared but there was also a look of determination in her eye. Good. She was glad that showed through because it was strong and getting stronger all the time. She turned to Gene.

"I'm ready," she told him.

Gene nodded.

"Makes two of us," he said, and with a deep breath he prepared himself for the day ahead. "Come on, Bolly. The courts are waiting. Let's go and do our noble duty."

He held out his arm and nervously Alex took it with her slightly trembling hand. The day scared her more than anything in living memory but together they were going to come through it. They had no choice. This wasn't Keats's time to shine. They would make sure of that.

~xXx~

Simon stared anxiously at Robin as he watched him shovelling another spoon of Cheerios into his mouth and staring down into his bowl. He could smell stale alcohol in the air. He tried to ignore it at first but as time went on it worried him more and more. It wasn't the first time he'd smelt it, or seen Robin knocking back Alka Seltzer, or struggling to get up in the morning.

He stirred the last few cornflakes around in the bottom of his bowl as he asked awkwardly,

"Are you having a shower before we go?"

Robin swallowed his Cheerios.

"Why?"

Simon hesitated.

"Just thought… you know… going to court," he swallowed, "I can smell a bit of… you know," he swallowed, aware that Robin was staring at him. "The smell of alcohol," he finally said, "might not make the best impression."

He cringed, expecting an angry retaliation and denial, he was as sure as hell that he'd have done so when he was drinking, but Robin just didn't have the fight left in him.

"I'm not on the stand today," he said very quietly.

Simon stared at him again, shaking his head slightly. The last month had seen the Robin he knew change beyond all recognition. Following Alex and Gene's discovery of a blank, numb Kim at Fenchurch West they had gone to the hospital to talk to him about it. His confusion and devastation at their news had sent him into such a state of devastation that he'd had to be sedated all over again. He couldn't understand what they were telling him; that after all his work to bring Kim back out of the evil shell that the station had built around her she had become something unrecognisable.

It had taken everything the hospital could throw at him to make Robin stay for at least one night, even with a small skull fracture. By the next morning he was refusing to stay put any longer and talked his way out of hospital. He'd made his intentions to stand up in court and testify against Keats for another bout of violent behaviour perfectly clear. Within hours of being discharged he was on the doorstep of Fenchurch West demanding to see Kim, to no avail. It wasn't his last visit either.

Constantly removed from the premises, he failed to gain access to any of the places he felt her likely to be and finally he'd started trying to call her instead. Both Simon and Alex had tried repeatedly to calm him down but the more they tried the angrier he got. When finally he took the desperate measure of organising a raid on Fenchurch West by the Canine division he was left devastated beyond words as Kim finally saw him, only to tell him that they were over and she never wanted to see him again. Repeated, cruel denials of her feelings for him ripped his heart in two.

What he didn't see was the collapse of her façade as she returned to her office and a tiny trace of herself escaped. She wept hysterically as she begged helplessly for Robin to forgive her to an empty room, crying to the walls that she was trying to keep him safe by sending him away before her hysterics finally brought her to her knees with a violent purging of the contents of her stomach, after which Keats was quick to offer a glass of water to help her feel better. Even though she knew what was in the water there was a part of her that knew a medicated haze was better than the raw pain of remembering what she had done, and so she drank it down and waited for the numbness to overtake her once again. She'd already seen Keats crack his skull with minimal effort. She was terrified of Robin being hurt again.

In the weeks that followed Robin went into himself. He was rarely seen anywhere but his office or his bedroom. The smell of stale alcohol clung to him day after day. At work he kept up a wholly professional front and no one would have been any the wiser if it wasn't for the slight scent of brandy.

"Have you," Simon cleared his throat awkwardly, "seen Jake lately?"

The look on Robin's face answered the question before his words did.

"That ship has sunk," Robin said quietly.

Simon felt awkward.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. While he still felt saddened by the way that he and Robin had parted Simon's desperation to return to a relationship had passed and now he saw his best friend falling apart. For a short time Jake had put a smile back on Robin's face. That had all but disappeared by now.

Robin was unaware of Jake's presence in his hospital room as he had frantically cried for Kim. He didn't have a clue that Jake had heard every word of his loving description of his passionate afternoon on the desk with her. In the days that followed Jake had been conspicuous by his absence in the line of people who had visited Robin during his week of enforced sick leave and when he finally sought him out, relieved and lifted to see his face, Jake had immediately shot a second bullet through Robin's broken heart with the words;

"I think we should keep things professional, Sir."

Never before had the word 'sir' been a kick to the face.

Jake had never given Robin a proper, nor truthful explanation for his sudden change of heart and as Robin's fight had already been all but killed he merely accepted it and walked away to cry into a glass instead.

"Maybe it's for the best," Robin said almost in a whisper as Simon sipped his coffee, "maybe we were never really going anywhere. He's too shy."

"Uh, look who's talking," Simon pointed out.

"Exactly," Robin shrugged a little, "I'm almost as bad as he is. One of us should have some guts. Otherwise we'll never get anywhere."

Simon nodded slowly. Even though he knew that Robin was covering for his true feelings he could see sense behind his words.

"I suppose," he said. He stared nervously into his mug. There was something he needed to say and he knew Robin wasn't going to like it. The timing couldn't have been much worse, if he was honest, but he'd already been putting it off for three days. "Rob?"

Robin slightly rubbed his temples.

"Hmm?"

Simon hesitated.

"You know I got the all clear from the doctor last week?" he said, "Got my driving license back and everything?"

"Yeah?"

Simon took a deep breath.

"I was thinking," he began, "that maybe I should," he closed his eyes for a moment, "move back home." He stopped talking, waiting for Robin to reply. When he didn't, Simon opened his eyes and risked a glance in his direction. There was a slight panic about him as though Simon had thrown him with that decision. "I mean, I've been really glad of the company and you've been looking after me so well," he licked his lips involuntarily, "I'd really missed your cooking." His slightly thicker waistline could confirm that much. "But I think I need to get back on my own two feet. You know… be independent…" he shuffled awkwardly in his seat as he saw Robin looking downhearted, "I need my own bed, I think I've had as much sofa as my back can take." He paused again and swallowed. "You could… probably use some space too," he said, not really sure of he was saying the right thing or not, "after all that's happened. I'm always here, you've got no space to think." Robin still hadn't said anything. "You... you don't mind… do you?"

Robin swallowed slightly awkwardly.

"No," he said stiffly, "course not. You need your space and I need mine. Why would you want to hang around with a misery guts like me any longer than you have to?" He closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his head as Simon cautiously asked.

"Hangover?"

Robin opened his eyes and shot him a brie glare.

"Think I've got a migraine coming on," he murmured, knowing he was covering for nothing.

Simon remained quiet as he helped Robin clear away from breakfast and get ready to head to court. The path Robin had started to walk was a familiar one to Simon, but no one had been able to help him when he started that journey so how was he supposed to know how to help Robin?

~xXx~

Kim's eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright in bed. Her face drained of all its colour as she gasped in a long, staggered breath and clutched her chest while her heart thumped and thrashed away inside of it. Her eyes were open so wide that her eyeballs started to sting from the chilly morning air and a scream stayed on the edge of her tongue, desperately trying to break forth from within. She knew she would have ten… maybe twelve seconds at the most of lucid thought before the strange haze would take over and she would be unable to truly think for herself again.

They were few and far between, those lucid moments where for a fleeting instant she knew exactly what was happening and that she needed desperately to break away but before she could do anything the fog would come down over her mind and like the subject of stage hypnotism show she would fall back under the spell that Keats, his air and his eyes had weaved over her. Once again she was controlled by his desires. And for the last month life had been that way.

She only knew because of the nightmares; the terrible memories that came forth in her slumber. If it wasn't for those then she may never have known that her life was no longer her own. He kept her a prisoner in her own mind, trapped by a veil of control that was almost invisible to her. She would remember little to nothing as she left her house and travelled to work, then came back home again when the day was done. At least, not until the nightmares began again.

Visions of him, his dark hair and deep eyes; the spectacles that he hid behind, the coat that encased him like a cloak, the stare he fixed upon her, the drinks that he left to pollute her mind and body, the tainted air that crept into her mind and left her unable to wrestle with her own thoughts. He whispered into her ear and spoke right to her soul.

The nightmares would show only flashes; flesh, her body laid on the cold floor as she saw his face above her; turning her head away as she felt him right there. She could see him, hear him grunting, hear the words he whispered to her, see his face contort in twisted ecstasy. She knew that every single time he made her believe this was what she wanted just a little more than he had the last. But every day, in that moment of darkest lucidity, the terrible truth ripped open her heart and killed every part of her spirit and her soul.

Sometimes she would wake up screaming Robin's name, but she had already sent him away. Sometimes she would beg for Alex to come to her rescue but the moment would pass and she'd be numb once again. She wished that the evil energy would overtake her again so that she could stand up and be Keats's equal once more but she had broken free of its hold and that was that.

So once again as the memories drifted away and the haze masked the truth she sat there in bed, wondering why her heart was pounding, Soon she would get up and get ready like a drone, then head to work awaiting Keats's presence.

Hell was far more than fire and flame.

~xXx~

Keats tightened his tie and checked his reflection in the broken shards of the bathroom mirror. It had been almost 18 months since his forehead had met with its shiny surface and caused the damage. He'd never replaced it. It reminded him of that night. There was more to that night than the blood and the pain of glass through flesh. There had been something that night he would never forget; a man who'd tried desperately to bring out his humanity but failed, just as he did every time. That night had been a first for Keats. First time with a man, yes, but that wasn't the 'first' he remembered it for.

It was the first time that anyone had wanted to.

No pills, no gaze, no gas and air.

Just Simon.

He felt a strange shiver running through his body which he immediately disregarded. It had come from something deeply hidden within him which he wasn't going to let hamper him on this, one of the most important days of his life. He'd tried to outrun it. He'd thought the day would never come. He thought that he could keep it at bay purely because he wanted to, and yet somehow that hadn't happened. The day had arrived.

Fucking trial.

He drew in a deep breath as he stared at himself in the largest remaining fragment of the mirror. He pushed his spectacles further up his nose and began to pull on his smartest suit jacket.

"Everything is normal," he told himself calmly, "everything will be fine. Nothing is going to change." His stare turned darker as he regarded his reflection seriously. "One week. Seven simple little days and everything will be back in its rightful place." He nodded to himself and turned around, repeating his affirmations all the way out of his flat and out to his car.

The battle of good Vs. evil had found a new battleground; a court of law.

Building a cage for Satan was no easy feat but for the first time the blueprints were in place.

Court was in session.

~xXx~

A/N: This fic follows Candle in the Wind; set one month later on the first day of Keats's long awaited trial. Please take your seat in court and no throwing things at the defendant – save them for the lawyer for the defence… *cough*

Huge thanks to Jessie for helping me pick the title from the 5 I couldn't choose between, I think I'm running out of good music from 1997 to snaffle the titles from! But this one is very fitting, in more ways than one. The rating might rise to M towards the end of the story, but for now a more pressing concern is that I need to issue a severe beard warning for the next chapter. Please come armed with razors and, where necessary, chaperoned by Geoff. Do I need to warn about a possible return from Simon's jumper as well?

Disclaimers aplenty, of course I don't own Ashes to Ashes it wouldn't be fan fiction if I did. Kim on the other hand is all mine, hands off Keats!

The next chapter will probably be up on new year's day so unless I sneak one in tomorrow have a very happy new year and I wish everyone great things for 2013 x