Robin had convinced himself when he left the Conrad that he wouldn't see anyone he actually cared about ever again and that it would be better for them in the end. A foolish belief considering he hadn't left the city but the city is big, and he'd be spending most of his time indoors as a lab rat. It wasn't hard to believe
( ... )
She ran most of the way, like she didn't believe he'd still be there if she took too long. Wyatt. Of course Wyatt. In the midst of everything she'd almost forgotten. She's scared. Scared what she'll find when she gets there, scared why Robin would go to that man. For a few blessed minutes she's outside her own head, worried purely and wholly about someone else. Afraid of something other than herself.
"Robin!" She calls out before she even sees him, standing and smoking and looking so tired and so edgy at once. She stops running and just takes him in, her beautiful, loving, broken brother. She would rather have him like this than any twisted thing she might try to make by 'helping'. She loves him, all of him, all of this helplessness and exhaustion and everything he hates about himself. She just stands there, too breathless and scared to approach, though she's not sure what kind of fear it is now. Like maybe he won't be himself if she touches him. Like maybe the dreams will be real if she gets any closer
( ... )
Don't look at her. You don't have to look at her. Don't do it. It's all over then.
Robin manages it for a long time, manages to ignore that she's said his name, manages to keep his gaze solidly forward. He can't keep it up for long, not when he can no longer hear the sound of her nearing and she isn't saying anything more.
Eventually, he has to look, and when he does, his breath catches in his throat. A very painful feeling takes over him, rooting him to the sidewalk.
Say something mean. Make her leave. You should have never let her came.
That voice says those things so desperately, and it acts as though he actually has a choice. At the sight of her, he's overcome with the feeling of how much he loves her, and it pushes him from the wall and toward her until he's standing right in front of her. God, he hates the way her body seems so tense, that she feel afraid at all. It hurts to see. It hurts to know how much she suffered on her own. He's supposed to protect her. He's never been able to but he's supposed to, he has to and if
( ... )
She twitches, not quite a flinch, and looks up at him from between her fingers. The look on his face--
"It's you," she breathes, and some portion of the anxiety she's harbored since the plagues rushes out of her. She touches his shirt, moves her hands to his side, slowly finds her way into a hug. And then holds on to him like he's the only thing keeping her standing. Sometimes it's so hard to talk to him, to say anything but his name, because his name is easy and she doesn't have to try and frame all the confusion and relief into words.
She could fall asleep right here. She's been so tense, so so scared that somehow the familiar will get twisted just by her presence. Broken or not, Robin is safe. He's everything safe. "I missed you."
Robin is not happy about being awake. He sits on the floor pressed against the kitchen counter with his head back against it and his eyes closed. If he knew... that she would end up here, again. He wouldn't have turned her down in the first place. Or maybe he would have been more mean about it. He can remember what that's like, can't he? Being a complete bastard. It used to be easy.
Ruvin is handcuffed to a radiator on the floor passed out across from him. He's not supposed to take the handcuffs off of her until she's awake, coherent, and calm. He's completely unaware that that is an order he's been given that he literally cannot break (ah, mind control).
He can't think about what she did, what she almost did. It makes him feel pretty fucking miserable for failing at that one simple thing, to get her to leave, to get her to go away. He can't think about it. He can't. It hurts, and all he wants to do is take more tranquilizers and go back to sleep. If there was a drug to make her stop caring about him, he'd force it on her but there
( ... )
She moves before she's really awake. She doesn't want to be awake. The thick fog she's buried under--she just wants to stay there, away from thought and sensation. She doesn't. It wears off, slowly, and she can feel the radiator at her back, her arms twisted uncomfortably. Hot back. Cold side where she's stretched against the floor. Something biting into her wrists--
The last thing she remembers is Wyatt. Wyatt's face. She groans. "No," she mumbles. She's not supposed to be here any more.
Robin opens his eyes when he hears her speak. He's still watching her for a long time before he manages to open up his own mouth. If he could take back ever responding to her in the journals or ever telling her where he was, he would.
"Ruvin," he says. His voice is quiet, hard. There's no anger in it, just a commanding kind of tone. Listen to me. Look at me.
She curls up, away from him. Shame and guilt roar into her. Remind her of what she was trying to do. And Robin knows. Of course he knows. She tugs at the handcuffs, still disoriented, still unsure of where she is or why. She won't look at him. She can't. After what he said and what she did she wants nothing more than to curl up somewhere and die, go back to sleep and never wake up again. Wyatt can do what he wants to her and anyone else because what was the point? What was the point of all that fighting and all that trying when all it brings them is right back to this place again?
Comments 58
It's okay. It doesn't matter.
Reply
I just
When that happened, when I dis
I don't want to hurt anyone.
Reply
Reply
There wasn't
[A long, long pause while she has a panic attack in Rachel and Adrian's bathroom]
It wasn't me. But I couldn't stop it.
Reply
Reply
"Robin!" She calls out before she even sees him, standing and smoking and looking so tired and so edgy at once. She stops running and just takes him in, her beautiful, loving, broken brother. She would rather have him like this than any twisted thing she might try to make by 'helping'. She loves him, all of him, all of this helplessness and exhaustion and everything he hates about himself. She just stands there, too breathless and scared to approach, though she's not sure what kind of fear it is now. Like maybe he won't be himself if she touches him. Like maybe the dreams will be real if she gets any closer ( ... )
Reply
Robin manages it for a long time, manages to ignore that she's said his name, manages to keep his gaze solidly forward. He can't keep it up for long, not when he can no longer hear the sound of her nearing and she isn't saying anything more.
Eventually, he has to look, and when he does, his breath catches in his throat. A very painful feeling takes over him, rooting him to the sidewalk.
Say something mean. Make her leave. You should have never let her came.
That voice says those things so desperately, and it acts as though he actually has a choice. At the sight of her, he's overcome with the feeling of how much he loves her, and it pushes him from the wall and toward her until he's standing right in front of her. God, he hates the way her body seems so tense, that she feel afraid at all. It hurts to see. It hurts to know how much she suffered on her own. He's supposed to protect her. He's never been able to but he's supposed to, he has to and if ( ... )
Reply
"It's you," she breathes, and some portion of the anxiety she's harbored since the plagues rushes out of her. She touches his shirt, moves her hands to his side, slowly finds her way into a hug. And then holds on to him like he's the only thing keeping her standing. Sometimes it's so hard to talk to him, to say anything but his name, because his name is easy and she doesn't have to try and frame all the confusion and relief into words.
She could fall asleep right here. She's been so tense, so so scared that somehow the familiar will get twisted just by her presence. Broken or not, Robin is safe. He's everything safe. "I missed you."
Reply
Ruvin is handcuffed to a radiator on the floor passed out across from him. He's not supposed to take the handcuffs off of her until she's awake, coherent, and calm. He's completely unaware that that is an order he's been given that he literally cannot break (ah, mind control).
He can't think about what she did, what she almost did. It makes him feel pretty fucking miserable for failing at that one simple thing, to get her to leave, to get her to go away. He can't think about it. He can't. It hurts, and all he wants to do is take more tranquilizers and go back to sleep. If there was a drug to make her stop caring about him, he'd force it on her but there ( ... )
Reply
The last thing she remembers is Wyatt. Wyatt's face. She groans. "No," she mumbles. She's not supposed to be here any more.
Reply
"Ruvin," he says. His voice is quiet, hard. There's no anger in it, just a commanding kind of tone. Listen to me. Look at me.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment