A Whump fic, of which I will attempt to finish. Riggs gets into trouble while tracking down a diamond thief. The whole team works together to help him. If you, dear reader, are just here for the whump or h/c, I totally get it.


Looking up at the rain, Riggs could only wonder if he ever had a shot at a long life. He didn't think so, not now, but maybe in the start. Maybe if his Dad hadn't been so often drunk. Maybe if his Mom had kept fighting. Maybe if cancer didn't exist.

Nah, there was too much stacked against him. If it was gonna go, this would be how.

The pooling water below him would be pink by now. He was no stranger to how bleeding bodies looked. Belly shots bled a lot. He should probably pass out any minute now. There were worse ways to go.

Four hours earlier

"We got an address on Nash." Bailey announced to a pleased Averly and less-so Roger.

"Perfect." Avery spun on his heel to look at Roger. "You can take that one, and I can explain to the city why they have on less Starbucks."

"We had ideal reason to believe Nash stored the diamonds there."

"I'm talking about blowing up the espresso maker, Rog." Avery retorted. Cutting off a defensive 'Riggs-did-that-I-had-no-idea' story from Roger, he pointed to the door. Roger nodded as he and Bailey retreated out of his office.

"Riggs!" Roger strode into the office looking satisfied. "Bailey got a hit on our Diamond guy."

Looking delighted at his escape from paperwork, Riggs grabbed his jacket and keys. "Weren't you clocking out?"

"Yeah, well, Trish is cooking tonight, and, I… you know."

"Ah." Riggs winked. "I won't say anything."

"Oh, you better not." Roger retorted. "I'm driving. God knows how many of those coffee beans you inhaled."

Bailey watched the two of them leave. Turning back to her computer, she curiously entered the address into Google Earth. Yellow ugly, one floor house, looked like it was built in the 60s and never repainted.

She shrugged and got up to make another coffee.


Dom Nash was ready. The two idiots were going to come in here thinking some measly jewelry store thief was waiting for them. They probably half expected him to be high! But no, the diamonds were just a bonus. Avery was the one he wanted to pick a fight with. Asshole took out his inside guy. Samuels got him the drugs, he had the contacts. It was a very nice deal. Until Avery messed it up. Samuels would be in court tomorrow. All he had to do was delay him.

Pulling up at the ugly yellow building, Riggs hopped out of the car nearly before Roger had stopped.

"Riggs!"

"I'm not fast, you're slow."

Roger could only sigh, as he joined Riggs walking up the path. Arriving at the door, Riggs reached up to knock as the door swung open a crack.

"Oh, look, at that. Invited in." Riggs drew his gun and looked pushed the door open. "Nash? You in here?" Hearing no answer, the pair stepped inside. "Nash?"

The shot came out of nowhere. Roger and Riggs dove behind a sofa, as the shots stopped, reloading.

"Okay," Riggs sighed. "He'd have to be in the kitchen, that's the only place where he could shoot at us without us seeing him." A few more shots peppered the couch. "I'll go through the hallway, get him from behind, you hold him off."

"I hold him off?"

"Yeah."

"You hold him off."

"Are we gonna do this now?"

"How should I hold him off!?"

Riggs stared at his partner. "Is this about Trish's cooking?"

"No, of course it isn't. You know what-"

"I'm going. Cover me." Riggs sprinted out from behind the couch as Roger looked over and answered the restarting gunfire.

The kitchen was dark lit up only by flashes from Nash's automatic weapon. There was a pause, and Roger jamp to the doorframe. No shots followed him.

"Riggs?" Hearing nothing, Roger peared towards the kitchen. He got up. No shots. "Did ya get him, Riggs?" Silence. "Riggs?"

Roger rushed towards the kitchen, terrified. He vaulted over the counter and… saw no one. The floor was covered in shell casings. It was completely silent, the only sound Roger's breathing. Outside a car started. Roger spun around and sprinted through the door.

A black sedan sped away. Roger fired a shot or two after it before he ran empty. The Sedan sped away, but not before Roger caught the plate.

He stared after them, then picked up his phone. "Bailey. 5-Lima-Whisky-Foxtrot-7-9-1-Bravo. Run it. They've taken Riggs."