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.
But he couldn't not respond to Ruvin as hard as he tried to ignore it, as many times as he walked away from it.
And he couldn't deny her the ability to see him again when she asked him like that.
He's outside the apartment complex next to Wyatt's office building, and he's leaned against the wall, smoking a cigarette trying to stab off the cravings for something much more powerful. Of course, she's coming right this instance. He'd hoped he could shoot up again because even if he's not doing the long term drugs anymore, he's still addicted to tranquilizers thanks to that man and needs to take them twice a day to survive.
He doesn't want to see her again. As long as he can believe that she's gone and lost forever to him, he can go on believing that he doesn't belong anywhere else but where Wyatt tells him to go.
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 he wasn't so used to feeling helpless, knowing that he can't protect her would be impossible to bear.
"Ruvin," he says and a hundred words die on his lips. All worry and concern, and he didn't want to see her again and not long ago he didn't want to be alive at this point but that doesn't suppress the joy he feels underneath the exhaustion and pain now that she's standing in front of him.
He reaches his hand out to touch her arm, gently, tentatively.
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."
"Of course it is," Robin says though he can't mask the hoarse sound of his own voice like lately it hasn't been used enough or it's been used too much.
He wraps his arms around her, pulling her close against his chest. And yes, she is real and alive and that's her smell and that's her voice, and she's not at all gone like he'd convinced himself. It's her that's breathing against his hands. He can sense how much she needs this like if he lets go she'll fall so he won't let go, won't lessen his hold on her even slightly. I'm right here. I've got you.
It's a careful road that he travels now. He gave himself over to Wyatt with the assumption that that was it... that was the whole of whatever remained of his life, and now she's here. She's here and she missed him.
He missed her too. He missed her more than he could ever put into words, and he hadn't realized how lonely he'd been until he saw her again. But should he say that? Seeing her doesn't change the fact that they'd all be better off if he wasn't-
There are too many complications.
"Are you alright," he asks instead and then winces because he knows the answer to that. "I mean are you- You said you were staying somewhere safe. I just-..." He's worried. Still. He saw the way that she phrased her questions. He saw how tense she looked standing only feet away from him. "If you want to talk about what you saw in detail, I'm... I can listen okay? I don't want you to have to deal with it on your own. You don't have to if it's too hard but it... I don't know."
"Rachel Conway and Adrian Vela, they--I've been staying with them. A lot of people have. They have apartments in a big building where they're letting people who lost their homes stay." People who have lost their homes. She tucks herself against him. "I don't know. I don't-- I don't want you to hate me."
Her voice drops and she can hardly take saying the words.
He doesn't let go of her and then what she says makes him choke on empty laughter. It's not that it's funny that she should think that. It's more that the idea is utterly ridiculous to him and so far from the realm of possibility that it's the only sound he can make.
"Ruvin, it is absolutely impossible for me to hate you," Robin says, and for once, his voice has strength mixed with his concern and his love. If there's anything he's sure of, he can be sure of that. "There's nothing that you could do or that you could see in some future that may not even happen that could possibly change the way I feel about you."
It does so much to heal her heart, hearing him say that. She might even be relaxing--letting herself relax, which is more than she's done for what feels like forever.
She hugs him harder. "Can I stay here? Please-- I think..."
Ruvin bites her lip. All the images, the fear, press in on her and even being held like this can't make it all go away. Wyatt--
She looks up at the building. She can't help remembering it as a sanctuary, even though she doesn't trust the man. Even though she doesn't want to. "I'd rather be here," she whispers.
Robin winces at the request. He doesn't know what he wants. On one hand, everything is so much easier when he's convinced himself that he's alone and that there's no one left to care about. On the other hand, it's Ruvin, and if she needs this... after what she's been through, how could he turn her down?
What has his time with Wyatt taught him? That he's no better off than when he started. He's worse off. Addicted to tranquilizers. the monster living within every inch of him, behind every beat of his heart. It's not him but it may as well be.
"Ruvin, I don't know if that's... a good idea."
God, it hurts. It hurts so much no to say what his heart wants, to not to give in to her because he knows that she's hurting. He just doesn't think he's the best thing for her. Anger like a poison running through every inch of him. And he doesn't trust Wyatt to be so near her. He doesn't trust Wyatt at all. He betrayed him.
And if he could keep her away, he can save her the pain of his eventual demise. It's all very smart, very important for him to stay strong even if it means hurting her now to do it.
The problem is Robin Rice has never considered himself a strong individual.
No. No no no. Ruvin presses her face against Robin's chest and smothers the tears until it's just the twitch of her shoulders that gives them away. "Then come with me. To Rachel's place. Tell him to give you whatever you need and come with me."
Please don't leave me. Please don't make me leave you.
"Ruvin, it's mostly me that would make this... a bad idea. Yes, he's a lying bastard, but-" I'm worse.
Under no choice of his own. It's so difficult. So painful. He knows she's crying, and he can't stand hurting her but he practically signed his life away to the man who took away his ability to choose, and this is all going to add badly. One way or another.
"Look what happened before.. when we all thought that you and Rachel were going to die." And doesn't it hurt to say her name, too? "We said really perfect goodbyes then, didn't we? And when that finally does happen in reality." Finally. Finally. "It's-" Robin winces. God, it hurts. It hurts so much to hurt her. It's like whatever was left inside of him is being torn into pieces by something sharp and intangible.
"I'm an angel of vengeance," he says finally after working past the pain enough to speak in a voice that doesn't show how much he's hurting. It's tired and matter of face but he so carefully controlled the pain.
"I don't care!" She yells it against his shirt. She can't look at him. She just can't do it. "I don't care if they were perfect, I don't care if all this is is what's left when everything gets broken, I don't care if it's short or ugly or..." She trails off. The energy goes out of her voice. "I don't care. I love you. Please, Robin. You said--"
How many times is she going to turn his own words on him? "It's impossible for me to hate you," she whispers. She does look up then, remembering what her own strength feels like, remembering resolve. "No matter if you think I should or not."
Robin closes his eyes when she yells. It's not like he didn't expect it but it doesn't make this any easier.
"You will care, and I care," he insists softly, tiredly. "I'm trying to help you. I know it doesn't seem that way, but-"
He sucks in a sharp breath. He should have known that she'd do that too.
"I don't want you to hate me," he says. "I want you to leave me alone." And the wince that follows that is more than he has the ability to hide. He doesn't want her to leave but he wants her to- He doesn't want her to hurt any more on his behalf, never mind that he has to hurt her to do this at all. "I can't-" God, he needs a tranquilizer. He needed it an hour ago. "It doesn't matter." And another wince.
Robin doesn't know what to say at first so he pulls further back and turns away from her, facing the door to his apartment complex. He pulls his package of cigarettes out with shaky, needy hands.
Is it really that important?
He watches how he can barely light a cigarette because his body needs the drugs waiting up in his room so badly. There's no way his life will end well, and there's no way that it won't end sooner rather than later. How much time would they have left if he let her back in? Certainly not more than a year.
Robin pulls back all the emotion. He was good at that once, wasn't he? Polite, curt, on the rude side when necessary. Easily irritated. He takes a drag from his cigarette. It's easier when he's not looking at her.
"It's like... Halloween," he says, not sure where the words are coming from but very controlled with the delivery of them. Control. Like he has much. "All of the humans in this country on Halloween dress up. They like to pretend to be monsters for that one day." He pauses, taking another drag of his cigarette. His voice sounds tired but matter of fact. Simple, neat, curt. "And then one day, a monster decides he wants to pretend to be human, put on a mask to make everyone believe that he could be a normal, happy human, too. And wasn't he believable? He convinced some, even convinced himself for a little while. You... and Rachel, you were my one day. But that day is over, and I'm not allowed to pretend that I'm something I'm not anymore."
She's silent for a long time. She's angry at him. She can barely get her mind around how angry.
"I got my abilities back." It takes effort to keep her voice from shaking. "I thought, if I was going to die, then I could at least do something for you first. I was going to give Rachel an older brother. A stillborn older brother, so nothing else would change."
He wants to talk about being a monster? Fine. "I was going to do it, but I can't control it any more. I couldn't get it to work.
"You're not the only monster. If you're tired of pretending, so am I." She folds herself around crossed arms, trying not to be ill at the thought of everything. "You can't stop me from talking to Wyatt. You can't stop me from telling him I want to stay."
But he couldn't not respond to Ruvin as hard as he tried to ignore it, as many times as he walked away from it.
And he couldn't deny her the ability to see him again when she asked him like that.
He's outside the apartment complex next to Wyatt's office building, and he's leaned against the wall, smoking a cigarette trying to stab off the cravings for something much more powerful. Of course, she's coming right this instance. He'd hoped he could shoot up again because even if he's not doing the long term drugs anymore, he's still addicted to tranquilizers thanks to that man and needs to take them twice a day to survive.
He doesn't want to see her again. As long as he can believe that she's gone and lost forever to him, he can go on believing that he doesn't belong anywhere else but where Wyatt tells him to go.
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"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.
She presses her fingertips against closed eyes.
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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 he wasn't so used to feeling helpless, knowing that he can't protect her would be impossible to bear.
"Ruvin," he says and a hundred words die on his lips. All worry and concern, and he didn't want to see her again and not long ago he didn't want to be alive at this point but that doesn't suppress the joy he feels underneath the exhaustion and pain now that she's standing in front of him.
He reaches his hand out to touch her arm, gently, tentatively.
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"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."
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He wraps his arms around her, pulling her close against his chest. And yes, she is real and alive and that's her smell and that's her voice, and she's not at all gone like he'd convinced himself. It's her that's breathing against his hands. He can sense how much she needs this like if he lets go she'll fall so he won't let go, won't lessen his hold on her even slightly. I'm right here. I've got you.
It's a careful road that he travels now. He gave himself over to Wyatt with the assumption that that was it... that was the whole of whatever remained of his life, and now she's here. She's here and she missed him.
He missed her too. He missed her more than he could ever put into words, and he hadn't realized how lonely he'd been until he saw her again. But should he say that? Seeing her doesn't change the fact that they'd all be better off if he wasn't-
There are too many complications.
"Are you alright," he asks instead and then winces because he knows the answer to that. "I mean are you- You said you were staying somewhere safe. I just-..." He's worried. Still. He saw the way that she phrased her questions. He saw how tense she looked standing only feet away from him. "If you want to talk about what you saw in detail, I'm... I can listen okay? I don't want you to have to deal with it on your own. You don't have to if it's too hard but it... I don't know."
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Her voice drops and she can hardly take saying the words.
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Robin doesn't miss that either.
He doesn't let go of her and then what she says makes him choke on empty laughter. It's not that it's funny that she should think that. It's more that the idea is utterly ridiculous to him and so far from the realm of possibility that it's the only sound he can make.
"Ruvin, it is absolutely impossible for me to hate you," Robin says, and for once, his voice has strength mixed with his concern and his love. If there's anything he's sure of, he can be sure of that. "There's nothing that you could do or that you could see in some future that may not even happen that could possibly change the way I feel about you."
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She hugs him harder. "Can I stay here? Please-- I think..."
Ruvin bites her lip. All the images, the fear, press in on her and even being held like this can't make it all go away. Wyatt--
She looks up at the building. She can't help remembering it as a sanctuary, even though she doesn't trust the man. Even though she doesn't want to. "I'd rather be here," she whispers.
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What has his time with Wyatt taught him? That he's no better off than when he started. He's worse off. Addicted to tranquilizers. the monster living within every inch of him, behind every beat of his heart. It's not him but it may as well be.
"Ruvin, I don't know if that's... a good idea."
God, it hurts. It hurts so much no to say what his heart wants, to not to give in to her because he knows that she's hurting. He just doesn't think he's the best thing for her. Anger like a poison running through every inch of him. And he doesn't trust Wyatt to be so near her. He doesn't trust Wyatt at all. He betrayed him.
And if he could keep her away, he can save her the pain of his eventual demise. It's all very smart, very important for him to stay strong even if it means hurting her now to do it.
The problem is Robin Rice has never considered himself a strong individual.
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Please don't leave me. Please don't make me leave you.
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Under no choice of his own. It's so difficult. So painful. He knows she's crying, and he can't stand hurting her but he practically signed his life away to the man who took away his ability to choose, and this is all going to add badly. One way or another.
"Look what happened before.. when we all thought that you and Rachel were going to die." And doesn't it hurt to say her name, too? "We said really perfect goodbyes then, didn't we? And when that finally does happen in reality." Finally. Finally. "It's-" Robin winces. God, it hurts. It hurts so much to hurt her. It's like whatever was left inside of him is being torn into pieces by something sharp and intangible.
"I'm an angel of vengeance," he says finally after working past the pain enough to speak in a voice that doesn't show how much he's hurting. It's tired and matter of face but he so carefully controlled the pain.
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How many times is she going to turn his own words on him? "It's impossible for me to hate you," she whispers. She does look up then, remembering what her own strength feels like, remembering resolve. "No matter if you think I should or not."
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"You will care, and I care," he insists softly, tiredly. "I'm trying to help you. I know it doesn't seem that way, but-"
He sucks in a sharp breath. He should have known that she'd do that too.
"I don't want you to hate me," he says. "I want you to leave me alone." And the wince that follows that is more than he has the ability to hide. He doesn't want her to leave but he wants her to- He doesn't want her to hurt any more on his behalf, never mind that he has to hurt her to do this at all. "I can't-" God, he needs a tranquilizer. He needed it an hour ago. "It doesn't matter." And another wince.
God. He hates this.
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She knows he's lying. She knows he is.
He has to be.
"It... Why are you doing this?"
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Is it really that important?
He watches how he can barely light a cigarette because his body needs the drugs waiting up in his room so badly. There's no way his life will end well, and there's no way that it won't end sooner rather than later. How much time would they have left if he let her back in? Certainly not more than a year.
Robin pulls back all the emotion. He was good at that once, wasn't he? Polite, curt, on the rude side when necessary. Easily irritated. He takes a drag from his cigarette. It's easier when he's not looking at her.
"It's like... Halloween," he says, not sure where the words are coming from but very controlled with the delivery of them. Control. Like he has much. "All of the humans in this country on Halloween dress up. They like to pretend to be monsters for that one day." He pauses, taking another drag of his cigarette. His voice sounds tired but matter of fact. Simple, neat, curt. "And then one day, a monster decides he wants to pretend to be human, put on a mask to make everyone believe that he could be a normal, happy human, too. And wasn't he believable? He convinced some, even convinced himself for a little while. You... and Rachel, you were my one day. But that day is over, and I'm not allowed to pretend that I'm something I'm not anymore."
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"I got my abilities back." It takes effort to keep her voice from shaking. "I thought, if I was going to die, then I could at least do something for you first. I was going to give Rachel an older brother. A stillborn older brother, so nothing else would change."
He wants to talk about being a monster? Fine. "I was going to do it, but I can't control it any more. I couldn't get it to work.
"You're not the only monster. If you're tired of pretending, so am I." She folds herself around crossed arms, trying not to be ill at the thought of everything. "You can't stop me from talking to Wyatt. You can't stop me from telling him I want to stay."
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