Disclamer FOR ALL CHAPTERS: I do not own any of the characters except the criminal. Numb3rs is not mine.

In the split second that the FBI's prime suspect Henry Baycliffe drew his gun and prepared to shoot Special Agent Don Eppes, something happened that no one could explain. It was just Don and Colby, sent to pick Baycliffe up at a rundown motel. They were following a tip from an anonymous citizen. It was supposed to go smoothly, beautifully. This nineteen year old kid wasn't even supposed to have access to a weapon.

Henry's finger pulled the trigger. Don prepared for the searing pain that he knew was coming now, but it never happened. Maybe, he thought, he died quickly with no pain at all. But when the gunshot sound finally came to an echoing end, he opened his eyes to find he was still alive, and Baycliffe was still standing in front of him, with a gun pointed at him.

Don's agent skills kicked in and he drew his weapon and fired, simply and quickly. There was a threat now; the agents' lives were in danger. As the enemy went down, something else red caught Don's eye besides Baycliffe's new wound. It was right under his nose, in the prone form of Colby Granger, who was lying face down on the concrete with a bullet hole in the center of his back. There was already a small puddle of blood around him.

The world was in slow motion as Don called for an ambulance, as he cuffed the whining Baycliffe, who had merely been shot in the shoulder, to a light pole in the parking lot. He returned to Colby's side quickly. He took him in his arms and held him while he bled out.

Colby tried to speak but spit out blood instead. He tried again. His eyes were wide as even more blood erupted from his mouth.

"No, Colby. Don't give up on me. They are coming to save you. You will be okay. Just stay awake for me. It's okay, man, you'll be fine." Colby coughed again and the blood ran down his cheek.

The sirens in the distance made Don's heart race. What was taking them so long? Don tried desperately to stop the bleeding, to do anything to help Colby.

And why did it matter so much now? A few months ago, Don might have been more okay with it. But now as he held the dying agent, his dying agent, in his arms, he knew it was because it should be him on the ground while Colby tried to save him.

His team was falling apart. Megan was gone, David was mad all the time, Charlie lost his clearance, the new kid was taking herself too seriously, and now this. If Colby didn't make it, he knew would lose David, too, diminishing his team into virtual nonexistence.

The EMTs took Colby quickly after the ambulance arrived, revealing Don's blood-soaked arms, shirt, and partially his face. He sat back onto heels and watched as Colby was placed on a stretcher and taken out of sight. The policeman on scene asked Don some questions, which he answered monosyllabically.

"Are you alright, sir?" He couldn't tell whose blood was on Don's shirt.

"Fine..." He stood now, coming out of a trance of some kind.

"What's his name?"

"Special Agent Colby Granger. Baycliffe pulled a gun on me and… Granger took the bullet." The cop glanced nervously at Don, afraid that he would spontaneously break down.

"Can that be the statement?" Don was suddenly tired. He thought about calling his team.

"That's fine. I have to go." Don turned and walked away from the obnoxious man and tugged his cell phone out of his pocket. He quickly dialed David's number.

"Don? Where are you guys? I thought you were just picking up Baycliffe…" Don just waited as he let the realization strike David. "Where's Colby?" The difference in tone was almost tangible.

"Ambulance. Kid had a gun… shot at me… and…" Don broke off, watching the ambulance pull away with Colby. He zoned out as David answered, hanging up the phone and climbing into his car to follow the ambulance to the hospital.