"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. We're just about done here, and you've done plenty." The officer gave her a grin. "Go get some dinner or something. You look exhausted."
Robin smiled. "Thank you. See you Monday."
Even with so many people, cleaning the rubble from the explosion hadn't been an easy task. The criminal Franky had caused quite some damage—just another misdemeanor to add to his ever-growing list. On the other hand, Tony (better known as Chopper), his partner whom he had escaped with, had had nothing to do with the destruction, and so would be facing lesser charges.
On top of the robbery both had helped orchestrate, their records weren't looking good. Robin had heard Chopper had had his medical license revoked for the robbery; she didn't know the details, but it seemed he had done some shady things before the incident and had already been threatened with suspension or loss of his license.
The sun was just sinking below the horizon when Robin got into her car. She drove away from the station, looking around at the restaurants and shopping centers she passed. Zoro had invited her to dinner with him, his partner, and their friends, but she had already declined due to work, and was sure it was too late to join the party. She'd have to ask him about it tomorrow.
Robin made her way home and went inside. After a quick change of clothes, she turned on the TV, and, finding nothing of interest, went back outside and got in her car.
She started driving, not sure where she was headed, but going there anyway. She soon found herself on the edge of town, driving in the dark down a nearly empty road.
She checked the fuel gauge and quickly pulled into a roadside gas station. After filling up the tank, she went into the convenience store to pick up a snack.
"Oh, no," the cashier blurted out when she walked in.
"What's wrong?" she asked, startled.
"Sorry—I was just about to take a bathroom break is all," he explained, rocking on his feet.
"I could watch things if you need to go," she offered.
"What? No, no, that's fine—"
"It's no big deal," she reassured him. "I'm an officer, sir. My I.D.'s in the car if you'd like to see it."
"Really?" the cashier said in relief. "No, I believe you. If you could, then—thanks!"
He hurried out the door, running around to the back. Robin went behind the counter, leaning against it and studying the cash register.
Squealing tires screeched up outside and car doors slammed. Someone yelled something, and the doors slid open, allowing someone to rush inside.
"This is a robbery!" he yelled, pointing a gun at Robin. "Empty the register!"
Robin raised her hands, staring at the person in surprise.
"Chopper," she said.
Chopper's eyes widened. "What're you doing here?!" He shook his head. "Just empty the register!"
Robin leapt the counter and seized his gun, pointing it at him.
"Where's Franky?" she demanded.
"Outside," Chopper said, apparently unconcerned about the gun. "Getting gas."
"Where are you two hiding?"
Chopper gulped. "E—Empty the register!"
"You're in no position to make threats. I have handcuffs in my car. Are you going to come quietly, or will I have to use force?"
"I'm not going back to jail!"
Robin aimed the gun at his shoulder and fired, but it was a blank—the gun hadn't been loaded. Chopper used her surprise to his advantage and shoved past her to get at the register, making her fall and knock her head against the ground with a sickening crack. He glanced down at her as he gathered up the money, and when he'd shoved it in his pockets, he jumped over the counter again, seized some snacks, the gun, and water, and grabbed Robin (unconscious) with his free hand, dragging her outside.
"Hurry up!" Franky exclaimed from the front as Chopper opened up the back door of the van, placing Robin inside in a sitting position and buckling her in. He threw in the food, slammed the door shut, and flung open the passenger door, climbing in. Franky started the van up before Chopper even closed the door, and Chopper managed to get his seatbelt on as they started moving again.
"You got the money?" Franky asked as Chopper slammed the door shut in the wind.
"In my pockets."
"Good." Franky checked the rearview mirror. "Is she okay?"
"Knocked out."
"Okay."
They drove in silence for another minute.
"Hey!" Franky yelled, pulling over and coming to a screeching halt. He looked into the backseat and then at Chopper. "What the hell is she doing here?!"
"She was behind the counter!" Chopper exclaimed. "I don't know! Maybe she got fired from the police!"
"No way, she was the best cop there! My point is, why did you bring her here?!"
"I accidentally knocked her out! She might be really hurt, I couldn't leave her there!"
Franky stared at him incredulously. "You dumbass, the cops were gonna be there sooner or later, they could've gotten her an ambulance! God, you are such a goody-two-shoes!"
Chopper teared up. "I'm a doctor! And it was my fault! Let me take care of her!"
"Fine, stupid, but if she gets us caught you're taking full responsibility!"
Franky started up the engine again and they drove off into the night.
Robin had woken up shortly after Franky and Chopper had stopped talking, her head throbbing. She stayed silent, judging her situation, and realized it'd be best stay where she was at the speed the car was going.
She did her best to stay awake, but she had been on her feet all day, and was already exhausted from that and how late it was getting. So, when she decided to rest her eyes, she didn't open them again for quite some time.
When she next woke up, her head still ached, her neck was becoming cramped, and she was half-blind in the darkness. She blinked, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dark, and discerned a vague location: A small house, hardly any furniture about and looking as if it hadn't been lived in for years.
Trying to move made her realize her arms and legs had been bound. Which meant . . .
"You're awake?"
She squinted at the light being shone into her eyes.
"Hold still," Chopper said. He gently pulled open her eyelids one at a time, shining the light into them. "No sign of concussion. That's good. How do you feel?"
"Let me go," Robin said, voice hoarse.
Chopper pushed a glass to her lips. She kept them closed.
"It's just water," he said. "Please drink it. You've been asleep for almost thirty minutes, that's really not good."
"I woke up in the van," she said after reluctantly taking a sip. "I went to sleep by myself after that."
"Really? Thank goodness," Chopper exclaimed. "How do you feel?"
"Let me go."
"I need to keep an eye on you."
"I can find another doctor." She stared at him. "One who isn't on the lam."
Chopper flinched. "Franky says we can't let you go yet," he said, voice quivering. "I'm sorry. I'm trying to take care of you. Tell me how you feel."
Robin looked away. "My head still hurts," she said at last. "And my neck."
Chopper felt around her head until she hissed in pain.
"There's a little bump, but I think you're okay," he said. "I'm gonna wake you up later to check for a concussion again. And your neck . . . ?"
"It's just a cramp."
"Do you want more water?"
"Please."
Chopper gave her the rest and took the glass away. "I'll be back later," he repeated, standing. "Try to sleep."
Between naps, Robin tried to get out of her bonds, but to no avail; the knots were too tight, and the rope too strong. When morning came, she woke up, blinking blearily, and sat up quickly when she saw Franky and Chopper sitting at the tiny table in the corner.
"Oh, hi!" Chopper said, seeing her awake.
"My headache's gone," she said coolly as Franky turned around. "Now let me go."
"Can't," Franky said. "Sorry about this. You can thank Chopper—"
"I had to check on her!"
"I didn't want to kidnap anyone—but now that it's done, if we let you go, you can tell people where we are." Franky sighed. "I promise we'll let you go as soon as we find somewhere new to stay. In the meantime, we're not gonna starve you or anything."
Robin glared at him and he flinched.
"So," he said, looking away, "what were you doing at that store?"
Robin didn't answer, instead staring coldly. Franky turned away after a moment.
"Do you want breakfast?" Chopper asked timidly.
Robin shook her head.
"Okay. We have some . . . sandwiches, and those snacks. I know we stole them, but you gotta eat something."
"And we took your money, so don't be surprised," Franky added. "Your other stuff's safe."
Robin slowly reached down, trying to wiggle her fingers to reach the knots on her ankles. While Franky and Chopper wrote notes to each other, keeping their plans secret, she tugged this way and that, loosening them.
The knots had come undone by that night. When Franky and Chopper went to bed, Robin stood, creeping across the floor to look for something sharp to cut the other rope with.
A flashlight clicked on, shining in her face, and she saw Franky holding it, scowling at her.
"That was fast," he said, seeing her legs were free. He approached her and seized her shoulder, turning her around to see she had started to rub her wrist ropes against the rusty water tap. She kicked him and he winced. "Alright, you're coming with me."
He picked her up and held her over his shoulder like a sack of flour, trying to ignore her kicking him as hard as she could.
With Chopper's help, Franky tied Robin down to an armchair, torso strapped down tight and arms and legs roped to the appropriate parts.
"We're not gonna hurt you," Franky said again, stepping back with folded arms. "We just can't let you go right now, that's all."
Robin refused to eat when Chopper tried to feed her, so he reluctantly untied one of her arms to let her do it herself. Under his watchful eye, she didn't try to untie herself during those times. After a couple of days, he even started untying her completely to walk her around the house for exercise, while keeping a strong grip on her arms so she couldn't get away.
"I won't run," she said one day during one of these walks. She had been captive for about a week. "Just let me stretch my arms."
Chopper slowly released her, standing guard by the door of the room, and she raised her arms above her head, swinging them around for some much-needed movement. When she came back to the door, she allowed Chopper to hold her arms again as he led her back to the chair.
True to Franky's word, they hadn't hurt her during the two weeks she was held there. She was never too hungry or thirsty, and though the ropes hurt sometimes, her circulation wasn't cut off. Sometimes, when they thought she was asleep, they had even discussed how they had gotten to that point—and while Robin didn't approve of their methods, she could respect their reasons and disdain for the government.
"How can you be a cop?" Franky said one evening. "There's so much bullshit and hypocrisy in the system. I wouldn't be able to stand it."
"I know," Robin said. "I don't like it, either. But it's not going to get fixed unless someone from the inside fights against it."
"Like you didn't look the other way when your friend dropped bribes to get his boyfriend outta jail?" Franky muttered.
"I'm not saying I didn't. But the corruption runs deeper than setting someone free for a crime they committed trying to survive. Some battles aren't worth fighting."
Franky sat up from where he sat, and Chopper, sitting next to him, looked up.
"We're gonna let you go," he announced. Chopper nodded. "But you gotta do something for us."
"What would that be?"
"We're gonna rob a store tomorrow afternoon," Franky explained. "We just need some stuff for the road, and then we're off. If you pretend to be a helpless hostage, we'll let you go, and we'll be on our way and hopefully never see each other again."
Robin stared ahead, thinking.
"Very well," she said at last. "I'll do it."