"Marian, can you turn your music down!" Edward Fitzgerald's voice was defeated by the music reverberating from his teenager's room.
"MARIAN!" He yelled, walking up the stairs. "Marian." Upon opening the door he kind of wished he hadn't. Marian was seated, cross-legged on the floor bent over one of several papers and maps that littered the room. Robin was beside her pointing out something on the map and around the room at various points the rest of the Hood gang, as recognised from the news, were lounging.
Edward stopped short. Marian gave him a cursory wave without looking up but the rest of the people didn't so much as flinch.
"Marian?" Edward asked.
The dark skinned girl sitting on the bed leaned over to turn the music down so that they could talk without risking laryngitis.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing daddy, just going over a few plans for some things."
"And you needed schematics?"
"They were a necessity."
Edward took a step closer to the maps. "For the prison?"
Marian and Robin looked up in unison at Edward.
"You heard about Fordman, Dad. They're going to execute him." Marian stated calmly.
Edward sighed wearily.
"Why can't I have a normal daughter? When the only thing I have to worry about is catching her up here with her boyfriend instead of conspiring with criminals."
"Well I tried to talk her into doing both, Edward." Robin said, his hand snaking down Marian's knee and around her waist. The other criminals collectively rolled their eyes.
Edward glanced at the teenage boy he had once fondly regarded as almost his own son. He, of course, saw the changes that had been enforced through this hasty maturity and hardship but the young man he saw emerging seemed to be just as capable and charming as the boy, if a little darker and weary. It was sad, in a way, to see the wild, untamed mischief that had sparked the young boy with life all through his infancy, and later childhood, shackled. The young man who gave his daughter's waist a surprisingly chaste squeeze turned a look of concentration to the schematics. A fine white scar marked his cheekbone high and a purpling bruise was half seen creeping up his neck from beneath his pullover. Edward was reminded briefly of the sepia photos of the young men who went to fight in the World Wars; young, daring and stoic. The clothes were different but the expression was still the same.
He looked around the room and noticed that the other criminals were just the same. Suffering, persecuted and stoically fighting. And still children.
"...if we cut the power here..." Robin said quietly pointing to a place on the map.
"That'll tell everyone that you are there and you'll last three minutes top," Marian interrupted.
"...distract the guards?" Robin said looking up at Alan. The slight pick-pocket gave a shrug and a nod, his nose still noticeably swollen.
"You still need a way into the cells. Ever since that stunt in Cornwall last spring they've had a higher security protocol," Marian said.
Edward took another step further into the room, no one looked up.
"Five-nine-four-seven."
That got their attention.
"Huh," Marian said looking at her father.
"The security code for all penal institutions in the Eastern districts is the same; five-nine-four-seven."
"How the hell do you know that?" Alan said surprised. "Sir," he added, figuring he may have seemed less then polite.
"I'm a frontbencher on John's staff. I see the prison portfolios. Trust me, all the secure facilities operate on the same code."
"Edward, I could kiss you," Robin stated looking back at the maps and a feral grin spread across his face.
"Robin, are you sure about this?" Will hissed centimetres from Robin's face. The tall youth was dressed in a freshly pressed blue uniform. Alan beside him was similarly dressed.
"Too late now, just do it like we planned. I'm the prisoner, they'll never even look at you." Most of Robin's face had been coated in grease and dirt to the extent that it was hard to pick him out in the dark but almost unrecognisable in direct light.
Suddenly commotion in the building beside them drew their attention and six uniformed figures came rushing out, piled into four cars and drove away.
"Okay, that leaves four – let's get this over with."
They had barely marched four strides into the station's foyer before all three simultaneously abandoned the plan and ducked unceremoniously into an alcove, hiding them from view from the inner of the station and effectively trapping them between the door and the foyer.
"Damn!" Robin cursed softly.
Guy Gisborne was seated at the front desk talking arrogantly to the on-duty officer and conveniently blocking their access to the cells beyond.
"That's it, we're screwed." Alan said, stating the obvious. "There's no way that he won't recognise us."
Robin was sitting with his eyes closed tapping the floor with his fingers. Will and Alan exchanged worried glances.
"Okay," Robin said just as Alan was about to speak. "New plan: you two head down to the cells, get Fordman and get out. I'll distract Gisborne."
"You sure?" Will asked.
"What if Gizzy just calls the whole station down on your ass?" Alan asked.
"He won't," Robin said quietly. "He'll want this between us. And even if he does," he flashed Will and Alan one of his boyish grins. "I'll expect you guys to come rescue me."
Before either of them could respond he had dashed across the open foyer towards the toilets. The two boys waited with baited breath as they heard him whistle. Guy looked up suspiciously, glanced towards the bathroom and stiffened. Robin was leaning against the wall, expressionless. When he saw Guy looking he simply rolled backwards out of view, into the dead end of the bathroom. Alan and Will watched as Guy paused with a look towards the remaining police, obviously contemplating telling them but then he rose and followed Robin.
Alan released his breath loudly.
"Well that's it."
They both stood and pretended to act like they belonged.
Guy was cautiously entering the bathroom when Robin's arm snaked out and roughly pulled him through. He stumbled but quickly regained his feet swivelling to face the outlaw.
"So," he snarled. "The criminal walks right into the police station. Come to confess?"
"Just imparting a friendly word of caution," Robin said cockily. "Stay away from Marian."
Guy let out a bark of laughter.
"Pul-lease, like you still had a chance with her. You're nothing anymore Hood. You've got not future either way. You're public enemy number one and you think you can date? Like you ever had a shot."
Robin wasn't sure who started the fight. It might have been him. There was just so much pent up anger that twanged the bathroom with tension that one minute they were talking, low and furious and the next it had exploded into a fistfight. Bare knuckles struck bone, knees were jammed into stomachs and bodies were shoved violently into sinks.
What felt like hours, but was actually minutes, later both boys were leaning against opposite sides of the trashed bathroom with bleeding knuckles and breathing heavily.
"Why do you even bother Hood?"
There was something about that question that struck Robin as odd. The fight had left them both remarkably calm, as if it has simply been a way of venting frustration.
"You know it's not right?" he asked instead. "What they're doing, what your father's doing?"
Guy didn't reply, but that in itself was an answer.
"You're lucky your father's dead," Guy said softly.
Robin glanced up at the boy that now lived in his old room. They were both the same age, probably both liked the same sports, hell, they both liked the same girl. They weren't that different.
"You can change it, you know."
"Like it's any different," Guy said sarcastically.
"Not with that attitude, it's not."
"I thought it'd get better."
"It doesn't get better, just harder."
"What are you, the Dali Lama?"
"Would we be fighting over a girl if I were a monk?"
There was a considerable silence in which they listened to water dripping.
"Help us?" Robin asked.
Guy looked up at him. Brown eyes met green but just as he opened his mouth the door to the bathroom burst open and Alan and Will charged in straight at Gisborne.
"Stop!"
They pulled up short, glancing over at Robin who pushed himself off the sink.
"You got Fordman?" He waited for their hesitant affirmation. "Good. Let's go."
"But?" Will looked at Guy. Robin was already at the door and without a word he ushered the other two out. For a second he paused and the two young boys considered each other, then without a word Robin turned his back and left.
Later when they were helping a limping ex-politician down their back roads Alan turned to Robin.
"What the hell happened back there?"
Robin paused, surveying the vandalised street. "I'm not sure."