Hello, all. This is a birthday ficlet for Crissy. Enjoy.
The dust had settled.
The night was full, and the sounds of the night were absent. A tall man lay sprawled among chunks of cement that had been dislodged and his trenchcoat was torn, scraps of heavy material flung every which way. A gloved hand lifted, shifting the rubble and displacing a cloud of dust. A groan went up as the hand shoved inky locks away from dust-caked eyelashes. Gray eyes cracked open, then slammed back closed as fingers scrubbed the dust away. The man lifted his head, feeling it pound as though he had the hangover to end all hangovers, and he looked around, dilated pupils catching what little light there was and making sense of his surroundings.
He tried to sit up, but there was something flung across his body. It was warm and heavy, but he couldn't get his mind around what it was.
A thought shook him. Why was he here? He slid into a sitting position, not wanting to disturb the thing's immense powers that immediately flared up as he moved. The thing's aura smothered him, and he could feel the fear seeping into his pores. His lungs constricted, and he tried to control his nearly-panicked mind. All coherent thought fled his mind as the fear from the thing's aura and his own panic came to a boiling point. He couldn't get any air, his head was spinning, his hangover-headache was roaring--
He slumped back onto the slanted slab of concrete behind his back, sucking in air as the aura faded and the creature on his lap shifted and raised an appendage. Light reflected in a circular green hue, and his already-muddled mind became even more confused. Again, his thought circled around to the why of his current situation. He was sitting at what appeared to be the bottom of a vertical tunnel with a green-eyed being on his lap. What could have caused this predicament?
Amon thought as quickly as his throbbing head allowed, recalling the Factory infiltration he had contributed to--
It had collapsed. The air escaped his lungs as the thought punched him in the stomach. The Factory, the biggest collected witch-abusing company in the world, was gone. Karasuma had gotten out, he'd made sure of that, and Robin--
Was sitting on his lap. "Amon," she whispered. "Where are you? I can't see you." He heard the scared tone in her voice and his arms flew around her. He pulled her to his chest, cradling her shoulders and lifting his knees to push her even closer.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head upon his as she trembled from cold and exhaustion and shock. After all, that was the first time she'd been in the middle of a collapsing building. She buried her nose in his hair, relaxing as he laid his forehead on her shoulder. She felt him shivering beneath her, and eased herself around so that she was almost facing the same direction as he. The dark air permeated all around them, and she hid her eyes, utterly tired and traumatized by what she'd recently witnessed.
The minutes passed, slowly and agonizingly, until they simultaneously rose and looked up. Amon's eyes searched for a passage out, and Robin conjured a bit of fire to light the end of a shard from a broken support beam. She held it up, lighting the 'tunnel' to where the moon shone in the opening at the top. "The elevator shaft." The elevator had protected them, saving their lives and giving under the pressure.
Amon nodded, and began to climb. His arms were weak and his legs trembled. As he climbed, Robin followed, going slower to keep the fragment lit. Amon breached the top, testing for any unstable planks before pulling Robin up behind him. He stretched shakily, noting the light extinguish as she dropped it. She began to walk around, looking at the destruction and carefully avoiding Amon's gaze. This he noticed as he walked toward her.
She had stopped and was staring up at the moon, full, hazy and yellow. "A killer's moon," were her only words. Dew began to gather in her eyes, casting luminescence upon her features as the moon threw its light as them. She blinked, releasing a droplet and shivering as the night wind caressed her damp face.
Amon looked up at the moon, glaring at the dark for hiding their hope. He placed a hand on Robin's shoulder, lifting her chin with the other. "Why are you crying?"
Her face was composed, yet guilt- and anguish-ridden. "Maria. And . . ." She closed her eyes. "They died. All of the witches . . . the ones that I hunted . . . they're dead, because of me. Inadvertently, I killed them. That's why . . ." She opened her eyes and stared into his, asking him a silent question. Her eyes begged to know if what she had said was true, but she looked as though she wouldn't believe him if he refuted it.
In response, Amon cupped her face in his hands. "You are a witch. I am a half-witch. Would you have hunted other witches if you'd known what Factory did to them?"
"I-I wouldn't have had any choice! SOLOMON enlisted me to research the Raven's Flat crew, and they would have killed me if I had--" She closed her mouth, looking at him in realization. "I wouldn't have cared." Her voice was awed and surprised. "I-It wouldn't have mattered if I'd died. I wouldn't have cared. And quite frankly . . . neither would they."
Amon gave her a confused look. "Why wouldn't they? They'd be losing the most powerful witch in their employ." She nodded, rubbing a hand across her eyes. His own eyes grew wide. "You were so potentially powerful, they would have felt better getting rid of you." His voice was awed now, and he grew angry. They still existed. They wouldn't leave her alone for long.
He pulled her into a hug, tightening his arms around her shoulder as her slender arms slipped around his waist. "Robin, no matter where you are, no matter where you have to run, I will be with you. I will never kill you, not even if your powers grow stronger. I take back my earlier promise. I'll protect you from everything and everyone."
Though her hair was a mess and she was scraped and bloody, she laughed. Her throat opened and she threw her head back and laughed. It was a real laugh. She crowed to the moon, declaring, "I'm free!" She smiled up at Amon, and laughed again when he smiled in return. "Thank you, Amon, for everything. For my life. Just . . . everything. And I'm free!" She began to giggle helplessly, giddy with the thought that her life was now her own.
Amon couldn't help but smile. Quickly, before he thought, be bent his head and pressed his lips to hers, pulling back immediately. The fire died in her eyes, calmed, and she looked straight at him, head tilted back so she could face him head-on. He felt his cheeks warm, something that hadn't happened for a long time, and he skidded his gaze to the side. She pulled her hand up, placing it on his cheek and turning it to her. "Was that a question or a statement?"
He stared at her. "Both."
Her smile rivaled the moon, his personal star on earth. Robin's verdant eyes filled with tears, and her lips trembled as she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Amon's arms encircled her waist, one hand resting on her shoulder and the other on the small of her back, as though he would never let her go.
She eased her mouth over his, running tracks through his jaw-length hair.His breath came short and detached, mimicking hers, and her knees trembled as he pushed back. His lips massaged her, hand kneading her shoulder, then traveling up to undo what was left of her hair ties.
As her hair tumbled down about her shoulders, he pulled back, supporting the gasping girl in his arms. She leaned into his embrace, knees weaker than water, and buried her face in his jacket. Her heart constricted as she thought of what could have happened. He could have died saving her. He threw them into the elevator shaft and protected her . . .
She tightened her arms around his neck. As she raised her head, she was surprised to find his face sporting a worried look. She smiled reassuringly, and pulled his face down so she could whisper into his ear. Her voice was laced with the dark of the night and the warmth of her breath. "I love you."
Amon's eyes flew wide. He stood, transfixed, as she dropped back onto her feet and smiled. His eyes were unfocused, staring, and his brows were at his hairline. Slowly, he turned to look at her, and when he saw her smile, his jaw dropped. He drew himself up to his full height, and sputtered, "You-you . . . I . . . we . . . what . . . . you--"
She placed her fingers over his lips, waiting until he closed his mouth, then turned and began to walk away. She wasn't smiling -- outwardly. Inside, she was laughing. He was so adorable when he became flustered.
Her feet slipped silently over the rubble, and after a few moments she heard his anxiously soft tread behind her, rushing to catch up. As he came abreast with her, he bolted in front of her, stopping her with hands on her shoulders. When she looked pointedly at said hands, he dropped them with an embarrassed flush. He stared at her for what seemed like hours, trying to find the words to express his downright confusion.
After watching him struggle in amusement, she sighed and asked, "What is wrong, Amon? Why is it so bad that I love you?"
He closed his eyes, rubbing a hand over them tiredly. When he looked at her again, he looked sheepish. "There's nothing bad about it. I just . . . I don't know . . . how . . ." He looked at her helplessly, begging her to understand.
Stepping closer, she cupped his face in her hands, staring into his eyes, and murmured earnestly, "Just say what you feel. That's the easiest way."
He tilted his head into her hand, clasping it in his own, and closed his eyes again. She could feel his hand trembling -- he was scared. She almost cried. She had scared him with the most incredible confession she was ever likely to make, and now he was either going to break her heart or make her day.
She waited, tense, as he made up his mind. His gray eyes latched onto hers, and he saw the anxiousness in her face. He took her hands in his, taking a deep breath, and murmured, "Robin, I-I love you."
Her face broke out in the widest smile he'd seen yet, and the sheer sweetness of his drenched his heart. He bent and brushed his mouth over hers, gathering her into his arms and smiling in response against her lips. He brushed her ginger hair back as he looked at her, adoring eyes devouring her features the way she did his. Her fingers entwined with his dark locks, brushing over his pale face, snaking around his shoulders, circling him in a viselike grip.
Somewhere, headphones blasted and heels clip-clopped on the top floor of a gothic-styled building, and four pairs of eyes stared out the window intermittently, wondering after their lost and soon-to-be found comrades.
If you give me enough reviews, I'll change this from a one-shot to an actual fic.