The drive back to New York would be long for Cal, and the wait for him to return would feel even longer for me. It would be ten hours if he drove the speed limit, but it was Cal so it would probably be closer to eight. Promise and Robin had taken me home and then left at my insistence. I'd told them I wanted to sleep, which was partly true. Promise had lingered, but she knew there would be time for comfort later. Later, once Cal was back and I could actually relax. Until then, I needed to be alone to recenter and process what had happened. She was patient with me, and I was grateful. Robin had left before her, but I barely had five minutes to myself before he reappeared, several bottles of red wine in hand. I'd just changed when the door opened again to reveal, as Cal would say, "our friendly neighborhood puck."

Irritation rose up in me, but I knew rationally that it was misplaced so I pushed it back down. "Robin," I said evenly, "I appreciate everything you've done, but I'm just going to go to bed now and sleep off the trauma of the last several days. I suggest you do the same."

The puck smirked. Never a good sign. "No, you're going to sit up all night like an obstinate imbecile until your impossibly more obstinate imbecile of a younger brother returns." He placed the wine on the coffee table and started toward the kitchen for glasses. "You, however, you will not be doing it alone."

I sighed and followed him to the cabinets. The irritation did not want to stay down, and Robin couldn't recognize my efforts for what they were: his benefit. I tried another, more honest tactic of evasion. "I only just got him back Robin. I have to make sure that he's back for good, and I won't know that until he is home and back to strewing his laundry about and rotting his brain with television." If my chest tightened somewhat at the thought of Cal being Cal again—finally—I didn't let it show.

Robin retrieved two wine glasses and set them on the counter before turning to fix me with a knowing stare. "Niko, I know you have never had a functioning parent, older sibling, uncle or aunt, grandparent, or anyone who, knowing better than you, could tell you what to do. Cal looks out for you and has always been the best brother he could be, yes, but I don't think you've ever had the experience of someone older and wiser telling you to sit down, do as you're told, and let yourself be taken care of. Try not to be too alarmed at what's about to happen." His eyes narrowed as he picked up the glasses and pushed them into my hands. "Go sit down."

Inwardly, I bristled at the implication that I needed someone to tell me what to do. Twenty years ago, perhaps that would have been nice. Now, it was nothing short of insulting. I pushed that feeling down too, held the glasses and his gaze and said calmly, "I appreciate the gesture, but I don't need to be taken care of. I just need Cal to return home."

As if I hadn't spoken at all, Robin started back to the living area, latching on to my elbow as he passed me to steer me along with him. Other feelings that I'd been pushing down lately began to bubble up to make room for the irritation and insult. I let him lead me toward the couch, thinking that perhaps sitting would help me regain control. I sat next to him and exhaled before trying again. "The things I have done in the last week are not things that I'm particularly proud of. Allow me a few hours to meditate on this and to find some clarity before Cal get back."

Robin continued to ignore me, instead pulling a corkscrew out of his pocket and opening the first bottle with practiced ease. He poured two very full glasses, and, keeping one for himself, put the other in my hand, then wrapped a warm arm around my shoulders. He clinked his glass against mine and said, "Drink."

I hesitated. "If Cal were here, he would say you were trying to get me drunk and make a move on me," I said gravely.

Goodfellow laughed at that and took a long sip before returning his glass to the table. "Yes, well if I were sitting here with Cal instead of you, he would no doubt make several crass jokes but he would also drink the wine and recognize that I am both of your only friend, and that I do know a thing or two about the way the Leandros brain works. Then he would drink some more and let me be there for him, because, slow though he can be, he can recognize support when it smacks him in the face. He had a good teacher. Now, try to be a little more like Cal." He emphasized this with a light slap to my cheek. "But only in that one aspect, please. I can do without his moaning and groaning for a while longer. Also I'm monogamous, so all of my affection for you must remain platonic."

It seemed that Robin had every intention of acting equally as obstinately as he'd just accused Cal and me of being. I sighed and accepted that he was not going anywhere soon. I felt uncomfortable with the situation, but I could recognize that I was in no position to kick Robin out, not after how much he'd been there for me already since Cal's first trip to Nevah's Landing. I took a drink of my wine to appease him and he gave an approving squeeze of my shoulders before letting go. "So, your solution for my worry about Cal going into a nest full of Auphe is to drink?"

"Yes. You will drink two…perhaps three glasses of wine, you will sit on this couch, and you will give yourself a break. If Cal needs help of any kind, you will not be too impaired to provide it, and I will be here to help. For now, there is nothing you can do. This is one thing he needs to do on his own, and you need to let go of some of this tension so that you can be here for him when he gets back."

I did not appreciate the insinuation that I was less than able to care for Cal just because I was tense, but I understood his point. I had to stay here regardless, and perhaps sitting here with Robin was just as good a way to spend this time than kata and cleaning I would have been doing otherwise. For once, Goodfellow allowed there to be silence. He quickly drained his glass, no doubt attempting to set an example of some kind for me. I closed my eyes and let the events of the last week flow over me. I didn't regret any of the decisions I'd made, but I didn't feel good about any of them either. "Thank you, Robin. You've been through all of this with me, and I know it hasn't been easy for you either."

With a humorless chuckle, Robin refilled his glass and needlessly topped mine off. "Ah, well. Perhaps we both need to unwind now that the immediate threat has passed. And you know, the Nepenthe venom in the toothpaste…it reminds me of a similar situation in Belize, decades ago…"

I continued to nurse my drink as Robin's words replaced the demons in my head. Avoiding his refill attempts, I finished my glass at my own pace and had just set it down when my phone rang.

"Cal," I answered.

"Hey Nik," he exhaled, sounding tired. "How's it shakin'?"

"Things are fine here. Tell me what happened in the Landing." Robin, eyeing me warily, poured me a new glass.

"It's over. I'm on my way home now." His tone of voice told me the basics of what I needed to know. He'd had to kill monsters that possibly looked too much like him, but had most likely suffered for a very long time. We would talk about the details in person, later.

I knew Robin could hear Cal through the phone, but I gave him a reassuring nod anyway. "Okay. I'll see you soon, little brother, and then we can start to put this behind us."

"Yeah." He sighed, sounding older than he should. "Yeah. You should get some sleep. I think this whole thing has probably been longer and harder for you than anyone."

"Ah, well, I have Robin here to keep me company tonight."

Cal gave a half-hearted chuckle. "I hope you're using protection," he joked. I didn't grace him with a response. "Put Goodfellow on the phone though, I want to talk to him."

"Don't speed too much, Cal. I don't want to have to bail you out of jail for smart-mouthing a traffic cop."

"Yeah, love you too," he said easily. I handed the phone to Robin, feeling somewhat lighter now that the deed was done. Cal would need some help to deal with whatever he met in Nevah's Landing, but that was the kind of help I was more than able to give.

"Hi kid," Robin said, propping the phone between his ear and shoulder as he popped the cork out of the second bottle of wine.

"You and Nik having fun without me?" he asked, his voice carrying through the phone.

"I had to all but tie him down to get him to sit on the couch and have a drink, but yes, so much fun."

I could imagine Cal's smirk at that. "Good. Try to convince him that I won't die or disappear if he goes to sleep for a while, or eats a real meal. It doesn't seem like he's done much of either lately."

"Yes, yes, after this we're heading to a steak buffet at the strip club, then straight to bed" Robin said, deftly getting up from the couch and avoiding my hand as I automatically reached out to slap his knee. "Tell me, do you think your brother is more of a lap dance or strip tease behind the glass kind of guy?"

"Robin…" I could hear the warning tone in Cal's voice before Robin moved too far away for me to make out my brother's words.

Knowing Cal was safe, I leaned hard into the back of the couch. I was spent. Utterly spent. I heard Robin say goodbye a few moments later and he rejoined me in the living room, once more placing a glass of wine in my hand.

"Alright Papa Bear, the cub is safe and en route home. Do you want to go to bed?"

Stiffly, I shook my head. I was spent, but I knew I wouldn't sleep until I saw Cal, whole and himself once more.

"I didn't think so." He shook his head and leaned into the couch, uncharacteristically weary. "To not be remembered…that puts even the bravest of warriors to uncertainty."

"Recent circumstances aside, I can't imagine many have forgotten you once they've met the fabulous Robin Goodfellow," I said.

Robin's eyes darkened and he exhaled. "Well, you must not have much of an imagination then. But, let's get back to those recent circumstances. I know this has not been easy on you, neóteros aderfós."

I'd been ready to brush his worry away with the usual dry sarcasm and segue into an easier topic of discussion, but Robin's words stopped my dismissal before I could even open my mouth. "No one has ever called me that before." Not in Greek, not in Rom, and not in English.

"Not in this life, no," he said quietly. "I know you are no one's little brother in the here and now, but suffice it to say that, while no one knows you better than Cal, I do know you, and I know that right now, you're hurting. And this kind of hurt? If you don't talk about it, it will only fester until it rises to the surface at the most inopportune time. I know that this must have brought up some feelings that you don't want to share with Cal, so use me. Get them out now."

I felt like I was in a strange role reversal of my entire life—these were the things I would say to Cal to get him to let out all his pent up anger and sadness. And Cal said them to me too, sometimes, but never with that look that Goodfellow was giving me now. I could tell just by glancing at his face that he knew better than me, that he was concerned for me, and that he wasn't going to let me get away with dismissing that concern. Slowly, I tried to put some of the thoughts I'd had during this debacle into words. "It was like…everything I'd ever done for him, no longer mattered. And he was happy. It was like he was better off without me. Happier without me."

Robin nodded, but pressed: "Without you, or without a history involving Sophia for a mother and the Auphe for an ancestry?"

"Is there a difference? All of that, that's become me as much as it is him. My history—our history—that's what's made me me. Maybe, if he could have continued to forget all of that without me inserting myself back into his life…"

"Maybe what? The venom would have worn off and he would have felt abandoned? He would get distracted by a hot dog cart and let his guard down, only to get himself killed because you weren't watching his back?"

I sighed, letting the words wash over me. None of what I was feeling was logical, and it was helpful to be reminded of that. After a while, I said, "You know, I missed him more when we were with him than I did when we couldn't find him."

"So did I. What else?"

I picked up the full-again wine glass and took a sip, stalling. "I just…wonder, at times, if I should have done things differently. If he would be happier had I done something, anything, differently." I took another drink. "Was there anything I could have done, to make a difference now?"

Robin grasped my shoulder. "Niko. You did the impossible. You still do, every day. Your brother is safe and sane, despite all odds. You are safe and sane."

"Because of him," I said automatically.

Robin smiled. "Exactly. And wouldn't he say the same?"

I closed my eyes briefly. Of course he would. "This is ridiculous. Nothing I'm saying is at all rational."

The empathy in Robin's words was undeniable. "Well no, it's emotional. It's alright to let that part of your brain take over for a few minutes every now and then."

I closed my eyes again, drained. Robin's hand moved to the back of my neck, and he rested it there, warm, for a few moments.

"There is undoubtedly much more we could speak about, but I think getting a few hours' rest would do you more good than anything else could. Will you humor me and take a nap while I stay here?"

While he stays here, just in case anything else happens. Because there was always something else. That thought drained the last of my resolve as I knew that, were something unexpected to occur, I was in no shape to properly handle it. I slowly nodded my assent and returned my glass to the coffee table. "Okay. I…Robin, I appreciate it."

He rose from the couch and waved away my thanks. "Lay down. I'll wake you before Cal arrives home." His voice left no room for argument, which was fine because I had no argument. I stretched out on the sofa and let myself drift off. I felt a thin blanket being draped over me and I heard Robin settle himself onto the adjacent chair. Watching over me. I felt safe—protected—in a way I hadn't thought possible in Cal's absence. I slept.

"Time to wake up, kid." Kid. Another thing I'd never been called. I opened my eyes to find Robin placing a steamy cup of tea in front of me. "Cal called me twenty minutes ago to say that he was dropping off his stolen joyride at my lot. Entitled brat. As if I just magically have a host of employees willing to make something like that disappear."

I sat up and blinked at him. "Don't you?"

A wicked grin. "Well, yes, but it's impolite for him to assume such things."

"Manners have never been his strong point," I conceded. "Robin, thank you—"

"Don't," he cut me off sharply.

"—for the tea." I raised an eyebrow at him and drank. It was a strong matcha at just the right temperature.

He sighed. "It's been a very long time, Niko, since anyone trusted me the way you seem to. I missed the feeling. Don't make it out as if I'm doing you so much of a favor."

I matched his honesty. "No one has ever treated me as someone who needs to be taken care of." I shook my head. "Cal does many things for me, and he knows how I need to feel needed. I often suspect he purposefully leaves messes and whines so that my daily routine has a familiar structure and purpose—clean, lecture, threaten, clean, lecture, threaten." I shrugged as a small smile tugged at my lips. "I need that. But…well, what you did for me last night was different. I didn't know what that felt like. You're a good friend, Robin."

Robin's reaction to my words looked more pained than anything. "No one deserves the childhood you had," he said just as we heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall.

I rose and caught Cal in open arms as soon as he opened the door. This, I knew. This was familiar and as easy as anything I'd ever done. Cal wasn't surprised by my greeting and he didn't resist my hold. It had hurt, how much I'd missed him remembering me, but that pain was fading.

Cal patted me on the back and pulled away. "What's a guy gotta do to get a sandwich around here?"

"Come sit down, Cal," Robin said, having moved into the kitchen. He pulled bread and cheese and tomatoes out of the fridge. I'd have to go to the store today. Cal patted my arm absently and moved toward the counter to slump onto a stool. He wasn't hiding how tired he was, and it both rewarding and off-putting to see him able to let his guard down so much with Robin. With anyone but me, really. Robin had been there for us unfailingly for years now, but it still surprised me how much Cal trusted him.

I followed my brother into the kitchen and we watched silently as Robin made us sandwiches: Cal's a grilled cheese and mine hummus and tomato.

"Bon appétit, gentlemen," Robin said, presenting our plates with a flourish. He smiled as Cal tore into his sandwich, happy to have a meal full of carbs and grease. "Emily Post has nothing on your table manners," he said mildly, catching my eye with a wink. "Niko, I shall leave the dishes for you as I know how much you enjoy doing them." He gripped Cal's shoulder as he passed him. "Cal, give me a call once you're rested. We need to have many drinks and a long discussion surrounding your alternate ego's choice in fashion. Namely in gingham aprons."

Cal glared at the puck. "Yeah, you really missed me, huh?"

Robin merely lifted an eyebrow so I took the liberty of swatting Cal on the back of the head for the both of us. He popped the last of his sandwich into his mouth and winced. "Sorry, too soon. I know this has been hell for both of you. Robin, first round can be on me. How's that?"

"A gesture so grandiose, it's astounding. I'm touched, Cal." He began to move toward the door but Cal reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Okay, okay. Two rounds?" he said, his words joking but his intentions were clearly sincere. He was simultaneously apologizing to and thanking Robin in way that only Cal could.

"Get some rest, kid," Robin replied, smiling. "And keep an eye on your brother for me," he added as he slid out the front door. Cal snorted at that and took a bite of my sandwich.

"Was he talking to me or to you?" he asked with his mouth full.

I reached out and tugged on a piece of his short hair, missing the shaggy ponytail he'd cut off. Maybe Cal knew that I too trusted Robin in a way we'd never trusted anyone but each other. "Maybe to both of us, little brother."