Robert was twenty-one when the Clave had started to ignore the Circle and their demands. They started calling them an embarassment. But Robert was used to that. The Shadowhunter terrified of being marked, that was an embarassment. He didn't so much mind anymore, not when it was Michael holding the steele. He was so careful, and calm. Even in the worst moments. Robert envied that.

Valentine was getting more and more ferocious with his temper, and his killings. They'd captured the werewolf who killed his father and held him in their secret hideout for a month, whiping him, and starving him, and whatever else Valentine demanded.

Robert hated watching Michael have to do it. His eyes would drop to the floor, and he'd already beaten the creature so many times he didn't even have to look to know where he would hit. He'd see the parabatai rune move on his shoulder as his arm came up and down, and they were shallow hits, not very strong either and Robert knew that. But Valentine never saw the difference, he never saw the look Michael would give the werewolf. Full of pity and sorrow and apologies. And somewhere deep inside Robert he hated Valentine. But Maryse seemed to worship the ground he walked on, so he stayed. But he so wanted to go for Michael.

Robert was the one who'd caught Michael with a vial in hand putting the werewolf out of it's misery without leaving a trace of who'd done it. And Michael was trying to escape as Robert rounded the corner to the cell.

"Hey!" Robert had shouted when he'd seen a hooded figure in the wide open cell. Valentine wouldn't have forgiven him if someone had allowed him to escape. The vial had dropped to the ground and smashed into a million tiny pieces as the werewolf slumped down, arms bent awkwardly, dead.

And when the hooded person jumped back and looked at Robert, eyes wide and full of fear, was when Robert realised he was staring at his parabatai. Feet bare, baggy sweater and flannel pajama pants. Robert's heart stopped for a second.

"Michael!" Robert scolded.

"SHH!" he'd hissed back.

Robert was standing in the doorway now, "How long have you been here? It's seven in the morning."

Michael started to shake, "I don't- it was about three when I left the house. The guard was watching the door, so I couldn't grab my boots. I snuck out the window, ran through the forest into town, got an apothocary to make the draft, he agreed without payment when I told him what it was for." his words became quieter, "I couldn't keep this up. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Robert said back in disbelief, "You're sorry?"

Michael flinched, "What would you rather me be?"

"I don't want you to be sorry." Robert sighed, "You did the right thing."

Michael's feet were bleeding, his parents were probably about to climb the Demon Towers to search for him, there was glass all over the floor and Valentine would be there any second.

"Go." Robert murmered, steering Michael out, "I'll clean up the glass and explain. Just get home."

Michael nodded, and ran off into the early morning sun.

Robert quickly scooped the glass into the drain on the floor and told Valentine he hadn't thought the werewolf would make it through the night. Valentine swore and kicked at the dead body, but said nothing else about it.

That was the first time in a long time Michael had smiled.