Word count: 730
No GoodbyesWhere Amon was, Robin didn't know.
Who was well, and who was injured, Robin had no idea.
Did Michael get hurt? She remembered seeing Karasuma fall, Sakaki as well. Shots were aimed everywhere. Computers had fallen off the desks, and wires were all over the ground.
Was everyone all right?
Robin did not know.
The stairwell gave her an intensely caged feeling. She walked slowly down each step, heart pounding, her heels knocking too loudly against the stone for her liking. Her heart battered wildly against her chest, and her footing sped up, then slowed again, when her hands clamoured for hold against the cylindrical rock beside her. She couldn't see anything. The dim yellow-green lights fizzed into darkness mere seconds after she started to make her way down, and now, Robin was not only trapped in a stairway, the exit of which she could not make out, but she was locked in darkness as well.
Where was Amon? It had taken much self-persuasion on her part to leave him. She cursed the thickness of the ground above her, hoping to hear his breath, pressing her ear against the icy walls. Thrice she'd started to make her way down, as he commanded; and then turned around, frantically, up to listen again. Her mind played tricks on her. She heard phantom gunshots, only to realize they were echoes of her memory, fooling her in her fear.
The scrap of paper was at the bottom of her deep pocket. Too anxious at the time, Robin hadn't thought to look at it until the lights failed and she was making her way down, dried tears on her face, eyes blank. The warmth of Amon's hand still seemed to linger on her ear, which it had brushed as it reached to slide the paper into her hair, and Robin recalled the bright amber of his eyes. She'd never seen his eyes up so close before. And she might never again, if…
She needed to get out of there.
Sense of urgency renewed, Robin's footsteps clattered quicker in the empty coldness of the chamber steps, and suddenly, she found herself at the bottom of the seemingly endless stairs. Robin stopped, briefly, squinting around her, and ignited a midair flame, small and quick, to illuminate the walls around her. She was in a long corridor, with brick walls and a low ceiling. She saw lights, of the same sort as above, dotted along the hall, but they were dim and unresponsive, looking dusty in her vision. Robin blinked suddenly, and reached a hand into one of her many pockets, pulling out her glasses. It might help her to see.
And then she rushed down the hall, the echoes sharper, and louder against her ears as she hurried. Mild panic coursed through her body, and her armpits felt sweaty against her black dress. Robin's eyes, flickering with emotion, raced this way and that, begging to see the exit soon. This fear was something she was unacquainted with; even when they were running from the intruders pursing them, Robin's terror had been at arm's length. It must have been because of Amon. But she could tell-- when he leaned in to whisper at her, eyes inches from hers, she knew he was afraid. And his uncertainty, frightening her, made her all the more desperate to save him.
She still thought he shouldn't have. But the mere thought of her being left there, left to die-- no, she didn't mean die, of course not; that would mean everyone else would have been… Robin didn't know what else might have befallen her. Still running, tears streaming, Robin felt the futility of her thoughts, powerless to stop them anyway.
She hoped she'd come to end of the tunnel soon. It seemed like this underground night went on forever. Robin panted, pigtails bobbing. She'd make it out of here; she would. She had promised Amon. Robin had not said it, but she returned the fear in her eyes with faith, and trust, as bravely as she could.
And once Robin escaped, only then-- could she come back, and rescue him in return.
Robin continued running, face wet, her body numb, and legs full of lead. Her feet felt heavy.
She wouldn't say goodbye. She wouldn't. Robin took off her glasses, and brushed a hand across her eyelids, slippery with tears.
Not yet.
