Well here it is. Hopefully this'll be something nice before the 3 month anniversary of Robin's death in canon tomorrow on 8/8/16
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Robin climbed the steps and walked up around to his cell. As he'd expected, he found Will there laying on his bunk staring into space.
"Hey, you missed second meal."
His cellmate simply continued to stare at the bunk above, not acknowledging his presence.
"You alright?" he asked, regretting the wording almost immediately. He knew that Will was not alright. He hadn't been since the riot.
With a sigh, Robin sat down on the edge of the bunk and nudged Will's leg.
"Will," he said gently, "Come on, mate, you need to get up."
Sliding his eyes closed, the younger man tossed one arm over his face.
"I'm not just going to go away, so you might as well talk to me!" Robin insisted.
"What the hell is there to talk about?" Will grumbled.
"What's been bothering you," he stated the obvious, guessing, "Is this about Nurse French?"
He didn't answer.
"I'm sorry," Robin said sincerely, "What happened to her was horrible."
Will shook his head, muttering, "Why didn't she lock the door?"
He knew the question was rhetorical, but Robin answered anyway, "Maybe she didn't realize there was danger at first. Maybe it all happened too fast. We can't know."
"If only I'd made it to the infirmary," the other man grumbled.
"It wasn't your fault, Will," he insisted.
Not bothering to address what Robin said, Will abruptly pushed himself off the bunk and began pacing around the cell agitatedly.
He sighed, "Will, what happened after we left each other?"
The other man stopped, the back of his shoulders slumping.
"I was jumped by one of them gang types," Will explained softly, "I managed to fight him off and get away in the dark, but there was so much going on...I found a closet on my way. Shut myself inside, stayed there until those SWAT boys broke the door down."
"It's probably good you did."
"Oh yeah?" Will challenged, "If I hadn't maybe I could have helped her, but I was too much of a bloody coward!"
"Will-"
"Look, you're right, okay?" Will interrupted, "She's out of my league...I'm locked up. I know that, but if I'd been there..."
Looking down at the concrete floor, Robin said softly, "You couldn't have done a thing."
The younger man turned back to him, opening his mouth to argue.
"You couldn't!" he insisted, "Believe me, I'd know."
Will looked at him questioningly.
With a sigh, Robin said, "I told you I made it to the warden's office, right? That we stayed in there the night?"
"Yeah."
"Well just before the police arrived three of those same gang types founds us," he explained, "They made it pretty obvious they didn't care about me, but her...I was determined not to let that happen, but I couldn't have stopped them if the cavalry hadn't shown up."
Will listened intently, but did not comment.
Not really looking at the other man, Robin rambled on, "Sometimes you can't...I couldn't protect her...just like I couldn't protect Marian."
His voice broke at the end of the sentence, squeezing his fingers over his eyes to brush away the tears. Getting emotional in prison was never a good idea, but sometimes it was too hard to hold back.
Pulling himself together, Robin sat up a straight as he could on a bunk-bed.
"I do understand what you're going through, Will," he said, "But just, you know...you just have to be glad that she survived. It may be hard but at least she still has a chance."
Will swallowed hard, but nodded as he sat down next to him on the bunk and answered, "Yeah. I guess that's something."
Robin patted Will's shoulder, hoping the gesture was comforting since it was all he could offer.
Before either could say anything else, however, heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, and CO Glass appeared in the cell doorway.
Glancing at the two men sitting together on the bunk, he raised one eyebrow but did not comment.
"Locksley, stand up," he ordered, motioning him over.
Robin stood from the bunk, and walked over as instructed.
"What's going on?" he asked as Glass stooped to fix shackles around his ankles.
"Warden wants to see you," Glass grumbled as he locked the wrist shackles on.
Robin was surprised to hear that.
"What about?" he asked, wondering what it was that he could have done this time.
"You'll have to ask her that," Glass barked, gripping his arm and roughly turning him out of the cell.
Glass paraded him down the block, and into the corridor leading to the staff area.
It was a slow trip as they stopped at a security checkpoint that had never been there any of the other times Robin was brought to see the Warden. At it Glass showed his credentials and went through a metal detector, while Robin was subjected to a thorough pat-down before he was let through.
Glass then scanned his ID badge across a card reader to enter the main office, something else he couldn't remember the COs doing before the riot.
He thought warily about how it seemed all the new features were focused on protecting themselves rather than inmates.
Glass guided him through the offices, past Warden Mills' secretary at her desk, and stopped him in the doorway.
Glancing around, Robin recalled the last time he was in there. When he'd been dragged out by the SWAT team, his ears still ringing from the flashbang.
"Warden," Glass knocked on the doorframe somewhat tentatively, "You requested I bring inmate Locksley?"
The warden had been sitting behind her desk when they arrived. She stood with a nod and said, "Yes, please come inside."
She stood stiffly behind her desk as Glass led him over to a chair.
"Give us a minute," she instructed.
As Glass plodded away toward the door, Robin discretely studied her. She looked like she was alright, though tired. Even under her makeup, he could see dark circles around her eyes.
Glancing up, she ordered, "Close the door."
"Ma'am?" Robin could hear the surprise in the man's voice. He was a little surprised himself, as the staff never let themselves be alone in a room with an inmate.
"It's alright, Sidney," she insisted, "Just shut the door."
He didn't look back at Glass, but could hear a long pause before the door finally clattered shut. As it did so, he saw the warden's body subtly deflate almost as if in relief. She continued to stand behind her desk, not speaking or even really looking at him. Instead her eyes were distant, almost as if she were staring over his shoulder, though he could tell she wasn't looking at anything in particular. She stayed that way for what was probably only minute or two, but felt so long and drawn out Robin couldn't help shifting uneasily in his seat.
"You're probably wondering why I called you here," she suddenly spoke, still not meeting his eyes. After another long pause, she stiffened, looking down at him.
"I wanted to discuss what happened during the riot," she said, "What you did...I owe you thanks for it."
He blinked in surprise, "What?"
"You were right in what you said," she sighed, "It would have been impossible for me to reestablish order if I'd gone into the riot, and then when those men found us...you didn't have to help me. You risked your own safety...and you probably saved my life."
"I didn't do that," he stated.
"Yes," she said firmly, "You did. We both know it."
"Warden," he shook his head, but couldn't come up with anything to say.
She looked at him for a moment before speaking, "I took a look at your medical report, but...how are you?"
"I'm alright," he answered. The day after the riot they'd brought in new doctors to handle the inmates injured in the riot. After taking a look at him, they'd even sent him over to the hospital for x-rays, and determined he had two cracked ribs from where those Aryan freaks stomped him. The ER doctor had told him that he was lucky they didn't rupture his spleen, though. His chest was still covered in giant maroon bruises and hurt a lot to move, but there wasn't much he could do about it.
"I wanted to let you know that I appreciate what you did," she continued, muttering at the end, "While I still can."
He looked up at her, "While you can?"
His words drew his attention back to her, but she didn't speak. Glancing around he noticed a white box stashed next to her desk.
"Are you going somewhere?" he asked.
She laughed mirthlessly before saying, "No, I'm getting fired."
"What?" Robin asked in surprise.
"No officially yet," she continued on, "But I expect word will come any day now."
"Why?"
That caused another harsh laugh to fall from her throat, "There was a riot at this facility during which five COs and half-a-dozen inmates died, and many more were injured. Then less than a week later an inmate fatally stabbed two others. I think the better question might be why wouldn't I be?"
"They can't blame you for this-"
"Of course they can!" she argued, "And rightfully so. I was responsible for overseeing this prison, and this happened on my watch. This has shaken the public's faith in the Department of Corrections, and the state government in general. They want a sacrificial lamb, and I'm it...I don't even blame them."
"That's..." he began, shaking his head incredulously, "...not right."
She chuckled darkly again, "What are you saying you'll miss me?"
There was no right answer to that question.
Crossing her arms over her chest, the warden turned away pacing back and forth a couple times behind her desk, stepping out to stand beside it just to the side of the white packing box. Finally she took a deep breath and turned to him, "Locksley are you..."
She trailed off and shook her head before speaking again, "Why did you help me that night?"
"What?" he asked.
"Why did you help me?" she repeated, "You didn't have to. You could have avoided getting hurt. You had no reason to care, so why not-"
"Why not what?" he asked, letting his voice rise in a way that was probably not a good idea, "Leave you to go get killed?"
She shrugged.
"You still think that's the kind of person I am?"
"Are you?" she asked matter-of-factly, "I...did you think that helping me might be better for you when the riot was over? You said you understood that you'd be going back to lockup-"
Robin sighed tiredly, "You're going to think whatever you want, but I've said it over and over again. I never hurt my wife. I don't know what happened to her, and that kills me everyday! Not just that everyone thinks that I did it, but that I don't know who did. I was her husband. I was supposed to protect her...but if you really believe I'm the type of man who'd kill the mother of my child it doesn't matter what I say."
"Do I believe that?" she murmured, turning to look at the bookcase on the left wall from them, "I believe in our justice system. It's what I've based my entire career on...I have faith in it. I have to believe that it works."
He sighed, wondering what he really expected.
"...but...do I think you're the type of person who would..." she stopped to shake her head, "...I don't know."
He studied her as he stared thoughtfully into the distance, noticing the faintest visible glimpses of teeth working her lower lip.
"How did you get that scar on your lip?"
The warden looked at him. He figured she'd demand to know why he'd asked that question again, and he didn't actually know himself.
Indeed she did look at him questioningly for a few minutes, when she finally spoke it was so faint he barely heard her, "The day I told my family I was marrying my husband...we were very young and my mother...she thought I could do better...no matter what my opinion was on the issue."
Robin's lips dropped open in surprise, "I...I'm sorry."
She shook her head absently, "I don't regret anything. He was a good man."
"Was?"
"He died over 13 years ago, car accident," she muttered, "...I didn't even know at the time that I was pregnant with our son."
"Shit," he muttered before he could stop himself, "I'm sorry, really, and if they are going to fire you I'm sorry for that too."
She stared at him quietly.
"Robin," she finally spoke, "I don't know if...all I can say is that...I hope you find justice."
He could say he didn't know what he was doing, but that was not true. He did know what he was doing. He knew it was a bad idea and that this would probably go very badly, but both of their emotions were raw and open, and, if she was right, he might very well never see her again, so it was worth it even if he did end up on the business end of a nightstick.
The shackles jangled as he cleared the distance between them in less than three strides, cupped the line of her jaw between his hands, and brought her mouth up to his own.
The kiss lasted less than a minute...less than half a minute, realistically, but it was enough to feel that her lips were softer than any he'd ever kissed, and that, though she gasped in surprise, she didn't pull away until a knock at the door echoed through the room.
Immediately, she tore away from him and stepped aside, "Yes?"
The door swung open, revealing CO Glass and the warden's blond assistant standing in the doorway.
Glass' eyes widened and he asked, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she answered firmly, though he was close enough that he could see her clench her hand shakily by her side.
"Um…" her assistant started, looking confused, "...Warden, you have a phone call from the Department of Corrections' main office."
The warden swallowed hard before nodding, "Alright, I'll take it in here."
"Let's go, Locksley," Glass dragged him from the room as she stepped behind her desk to pick up the handset.
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TBC...
A/N: Hope you liked it and that their conversation seemed realistic. The story will shift and be a little different from here, but hopefully it will be a good thing. It will mean less OutlawQueen interaction for a while, but the wait will be worth it. I'm not Adam Horowitz, I mean it when I say that!