Wrote this story for Angst Fest Weekend.
This is Part ONE of a 3-part story.
Prompts used are:
4. I don't need you anymore.
25. Are you even listening to me?
29. I didn't mean it like that and you know it.
She's walking.
All on her own. Has been for the past couple of weeks. Wobbly steps that shouldn't look as graceful as they do, but there's always been a regal air to her that he's found enchanting, a poise and elegance Robin has seldom seen in the patients he works with.
Regina Mills came to him after a horrible car accident. Her best friend, Daniel, who'd been driving the car she'd been in, had not made it, and Regina had needed a large number of surgeries and lots of hospital time before she'd finally been cleared to start her physical therapy.
She'd had to learn to move again, learn her limits and push them as her bones regained their strength, and now, almost a year later, she's walking again.
Robin hates it.
And hates himself for hating it.
Because he should be happy for her. Is happy for her, but the thing is, once they reach their goal, the patients leave, and Robin is left to treat someone new.
He does not want Regina to leave.
It hurts to think about it. To imagine coming to work and not seeing her there, scowling at him in those yoga pants and loose-fitting tank tops that somehow make her even lovelier.
Rule number one: don't get emotionally attached.
He's repeated it like a mantra for years and years, and it's a philosophy that has actually helped him be better at his job. It's easier to push someone's limits and break through their fears if you're not worrying over whether they'll get mad at you for it.
But with Regina it had been different from day one. Her biting words had charmed him, her prissy attitude amused him, and little by little, she'd come out of her shell for him, to the point where she'll stay longer sometimes and share an insipid sandwich from the hospital cafeteria with him for lunch, or arrive a little earlier and bring him coffee so they can have a chat before they start their sessions. She still despises all the exercises and having to take things slow, he knows that, sees it in the frown she's always sporting when he starts her stretches and warm-ups, but she always leaves with this elusive, satisfying smile that Robin has not been able to stop dreaming about from the moment he first saw it.
They flirt sometimes, too. A little banter here and there, some lingering touches when she shakes his hand goodbye... she's even given him a few pats on the cheek when she kids around with him. Seeing her really is the best part of his day, pathetic as it sounds, and now she's leaving, and all that's bright in the world, he's sure, will leave with her.
A handsome young man walks into the room while Robin is standing there, watching Regina walk and feeling sorry for himself. And that's... new. She's never had anyone come inside before. Her father usually waits for her in the car and Robin would roll her out in her chair and watch as Mr. Mills helped her onto the front seat.
But today here comes this man, tall and handsome, giving Regina a seductive smile as he greets her and congratulates her on a job well done. And Robin's blood boils.
"I thought I told you to wait in the car?" is Regina's reaction to the man's appearance, but she's smirking back, blushing just a little bit when she looks at her guest.
"I wanted to bring you your cane in case you needed it," he explains, brandishing the object and setting it against the wall. "Besides, you know I can't resist watching you move," he flirts, wiggling his eyebrows at her, and Robin just... stands there, frozen in anger, in jealousy, while this seemingly new addition to Regina's life just waltzes right in and takes her hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles as she laughs.
It seems, though, that Robin's stony attitude has caught her attention, because she seems flustered and repentant when she gives him a whispered, "Oh, sorry," and then proceeds to make introductions.
"Robin, this is my friend, Dr. Facilier. Samdi, this is my physical therapist, Robin Locksley."
Robin shakes the man's hand with maybe a little too much force, his eyes boring into the other man with nothing but disdain as he manages a somewhat polite, "How do you do?"
Facilier continues to smile, this time knowingly, giving him a look that says he's quite aware of the little green monsters coursing through Robin's veins right now.
"I, ah... I'm going to make a call outside while you finish up," Samdi tells Regina, and she grins at him, nods her head, and stretches her arm so that they remain in contact just a little longer while the man walks backwards to the door.
Once he's gone, Robin's anger settles a bit, but not enough to go unnoticed, it seems.
"He's just a friend," Regina tells him, "he's taking me to lunch at his new restaurant."
But Robin says nothing in return, rather walks away and busies himself with putting the small weights he'd used for their warm-up back in the box by the corner.
"Robin?" she asks softly, and then, at his lack of a reply, her tone grows frustrated. "Are you even listening to me?"
"You don't need to justify yourself to me, Regina, I'm just your therapist," he says, refusing to look at her while the emotions inside him simmer.
But his answer seems to have enraged her.
"Really? Is that why you were staring daggers at him? Because you're just my therapist?"
"I did nothing of the sort," Robin defends, and he knows, he just knows he sounds like the most petulant child, but he's defensive, and angry, and jealous, and he cannot help the venom in his tone when he adds, "You're seeing things that aren't there."
And why is he lashing out at her, you'd ask. Why is he being so stupid?
The truth is, he has no idea. All he feels is this insane need to guard himself against all vulnerability, to show that he's stronger than this, to stop his heart from betraying his feelings by going the complete opposite instead.
Because maybe that way it'll be easier to get over her once she's no longer in his life.
"Oh, I'm seeing things now? Is that what happened two weeks ago? I saw something that wasn't there?"
She's talking about the day he almost kissed her. She'd just taken her first couple of steps, had been unsteady on her feet and fallen right back into his arms, their faces so close he could smell cinnamon on her breath, feel the soft brush of the tip of her nose against his. They'd stayed there for endless seconds, looking into each other's eyes and inching ever closer, until his lips were about to touch hers... and then Regina's nurse had knocked on the door to check on her progress, and the moment had been broken.
"I didn't mean it like that and you know it," Robin defends. Still, that day can't have meant all that much to her if she now has this Samdi fellow escorting her to lunch after their session, can it? So he adds, "But as far as that's concerned, you seem otherwise engaged, so I don't see why that day has to mean anything."
"Fine," she snaps. "You know what? You're right. I don't have to justify myself to you. This will be our last session. I'll keep doing my exercises at home. Thank you for your help, but I don't need you anymore. Goodbye, Robin."
It breaks him apart when she says it. He likes being needed by her. Likes to be the person holding her up and whispering encouraging words in her ear, the one guiding her steps, the one proudly watching and assessing her progress. But she's right, other than monitoring her exercises, there isn't much else he can do for her at this point in her recovery. She'll be fine on her own.
And that's the point of all this, isn't it? The reason he's so mad. She's moving on. Without him. And he's just wasted what has turned into their last minutes together by being an asshole.
Robin watches her walk away without another word, her steps aided by the black cane Samdi has left there for her, and he's too stunned by his own stupidity to follow.
When his boss calls him into his office the next day, Robin is curious. It's not exactly normal for him to be summoned like this.
He's greeted by John Little with a cheery hello, his boisterous demeanor a contagious trait that makes Robin laugh at his silly jokes and shake the man's hand animatedly.
"So. What's up?" he asks, and John grins.
"A position has opened up in our facility in Boston," he explains. "I'd like you to take it."
That shocks him. "Boston?"
"It's not that far from us here in Maine, just a few hours," John tries to sell it by telling him, "and you'd get a great raise, too."
"I... don't know what to say," is Robin's response.
"Think about it. I'll send you all the boring administrative details in an email, take the rest of the month to consider it and let me know your decision, alright? In the meantime, we'll continue business as usual."
It's fast. No bullshit, no preamble, the way John has always worked. It's why Robin likes this hospital. He doesn't have to deal with annoying bosses who value unnecessary paperwork over quality of work, he gets to choose his hours for each patient depending on their schedules, and best of all, he can walk home from work and vice versa. It's a good life, and up until two weeks ago, it had always been a fulfilling one.
But he's ruined what was a great friendship by letting his bullheaded idiocy get in the way, and it consumes him, makes him regret every choice he made that day. He should've apologized. He should've said something. He should've told her how he felt. He should've let her choose what she wanted instead of pushing her away.
And now, Regina is likely using her rediscovered motor functions to walk in and out of chic little boutique restaurants with that pompous Samdi guy, and it's all Robin's fault.
It doesn't take much mulling over. It's a good change, a good job, and better pay, not to mention he'll be far enough away from Regina that maybe, just maybe, he can get over her and this non-relationship he created in his head.
It's time he moves on, as well.