A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Just wanted to give a major shout out to starryeyedwr1ter for reading and for the in depth reviews! I deeply appreciate it; it gives me the courage to continue writing, and it's really making me examine the characters and the story I'm trying to tell. Thank you so much! To all of those who continue to read, thank you! Please read and review if you can: it helps me produce better material!

What the world needs now

Is love, sweet love

No, not just for some

But for everyone

-Jackie DeShannon, "What The World Needs Now"

Exhaustion swept over Robin at the sight of Chris in Middle Rock Park. It wasn't that she had a problem with him. In fact, she quite enjoyed the thoughtful conversations she had with him. But sometimes, Chris could be a little too thoughtful. And after the evening she had just spent with Teddy, she wasn't too keen on Chris seeing through to her emotions, especially when she had no time to figure them out for herself.

Yet, inexplicably, she somehow still found herself changing direction and heading towards him.

"What're you doing out here?" Chris asked her.

"I could ask you the same question."

But she didn't have to. As soon as she got closer to Chris, she knew exactly why he was here at Middle Rock Park. His left eye was swollen, an unhealthy mixture of red, blue, and purple was developing under the skin: the beginnings of a black eye. She suddenly didn't feel so exhausted anymore.

"Oh my god, your eye! It's bruised!" Robin cried.

This wiped the smile off of Chris's face.

"I'm aware."

"My house is two blocks away, do you want me to get some ice?" Robin questioned, her voice trilling, "Or maybe a warm compress? Something to bring the swelling down?"

Chris hesitated. "It's really okay, Robin. Thanks."

"Or maybe we need to get you to the doctor, what if you have a concussion or some sort of skull fracture—"

"No," Chris said, this time more coldly.

Robin was startled by his tone: she had never heard him sound like that before. She put her hand to her deviated septum.

"Fine, sorry," she mumbled.

Chris sighed. "No, I'm sorry. I know you're just trying to be nice about it."

Robin furrowed her brow. What did he mean by that?

"Nice about it? Chris, I'm not pitying you," Robin said fervently, "I'm trying to help you. So would you just let me?"

He raised both eyebrows in surprise and hesitated again. The pause was enough for Robin to decide for him.

"Stay right here, I'll be back."

She set off on a jog towards her house. Once she made it there, she slipped in through the front door and crept into the kitchen: she didn't need her mother realizing that she was back home and asking questions. She found the ice bag in a drawer and hastily put ice into it. Once filled, Robin tiptoed out the house and jogged back down the street, breathless and hoping the ice wouldn't melt.

"Damn, that was quick," Chris remarked. It sounded like his mood had improved.

"Yep," Robin panted, coming to a full stop, "Okay, here you go."

She held out the ice bag, which Chris took from her. He placed it gingerly over his left eye.

"An actual ice bag—this is the good stuff," he commented with a grin before looking at Robin with his right eye. "Thank you, Robin. I really mean it."

The way the moonlight reflected off of his one good eye…

"You're welcome," she said sincerely, "So you don't have an ice bag at home?"

Chris shook his head. "Nope…gotta make due with ice in a towel. Works just as well, but water gets everywhere."

Robin put her fingers to her deviated septum. It was clear Chris had plenty of experience in taking care of injuries. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had always known this. But seeing him with this black eye was a wake up call to the fact that dealing with abuse was a constant reality for him. How had she never noticed his bruises or cuts before at school, after years of sitting in classes with him? Had she been so absorbed in her own pain that she didn't care about what others were going through, right in front of her own eyes? Her insides twisted with guilt.

"You okay?" Chris asked her.

He was the one with the bruised face, and he was asking her if she was okay?

Robin swallowed. "I—I just wish I had paid more attention to you."

"What do you mean?"

Chris sure didn't look confused by what she had said. His right eye searched hers knowingly. She didn't know why, but it felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

"I mean, you—you're a good person…and you've had to go through this for so long—I know you've had to go through this—all of this shit—and I didn't do anything, nobody has done anything about it."

She could hear the distress seeping into her own voice. Robin put her fingers back to the bump in her nose, but they crept towards her eyes. Chris slowly reached over with his right hand and took hold of her left. He gently brought her hand down from her face to her lap. Surprisingly to Robin, the touch hadn't been shocking despite having no idea the last time she held hands with someone. His palm was rough, but his touch felt warm and comforting. He didn't let go of her hand.

"Robin, I appreciate it, but you couldn't have done anything. You still can't," Chris reasoned, "And bad things happen to good people all the time."

"Well they shouldn't!" she snapped.

"Maybe so. But they do. They happened to you, didn't they?"

Her stomach dropped.

"What?" Robin whispered.

"I know that you've been through rough shit," Chris said quietly, "That's why you act all angry."

She snatched her hand away from his.

"I don't want to talk about it!" Robin exclaimed, her voice ringing loudly through the empty park.

Chris gave her a pitiful look. "My point exactly."

Robin glared at him. "Do you just get off on calling everyone out on their bullshit?"

"So you admit that what you're doing is bullshit," Chris pointed out, "You're not really angry, you just don't want people to get too close."

"I—what are you—you don't—I never said that!" Robin sputtered, "You're putting words in my mouth!"

Chris shrugged. "You used the word 'bullshit,' not me."

Robin inwardly swore. Damn him and that fucking x-ray vision of his. How was he able to read her so easily? No, she didn't want people to get too close…she couldn't go through losing someone again. But here she was, sitting on a park bench with Chris Chambers, helping him to ice a black eye and feeling outraged at all the people who let him down. And she did all of this while he said aloud the reasons why she was the way she was.

Robin had let him get too close, alright, and she didn't know if she wanted him to get any closer. But now, there was something inside of her telling her to not push him away.

She gave him a small smile.

"Well, you don't have to be so smug about it. Let me guess, you're going to school to be a psychiatrist?" Robin quipped.

Chris laughed. "A shrink? Hell no! Not that I think it's a bad thing, just too damn depressing. No, I was thinking maybe a lawyer."

Robin felt a rush of admiration. Becoming a lawyer was quite the ambition. Helping those who were treated unfairly, those who suffered injustice, those who were maybe even fighting to survive: it seemed like the perfect career for Chris.

"You'll be great at that. You can do it," Robin encouraged with a grin, turning towards him, "Although, I think you may have been leading the witness earlier with that 'you admit what're you doing is bullshit' line."

"Hey, I didn't hear anybody say 'objection,'" Chris contended, smirking, "It's too late for you now."

"Well, I'm just going to plead the fifth," Robin remarked, only half-joking, "Especially if you're the one cross-examining."

"No," Chris said softly but firmly, taking hold of her hand again, "Don't do that. I don't want you to do that."

His touch was still comforting, but this time her palm and fingers tingled as they rested in his hand. Her stomach flipped as she looked into his right eye. The moonlight reflected off of it, the deep blue of his eye shining brilliantly. He continued to hold her gaze as he lowered the ice bag from the left side of his face. She noticed that it appeared less swollen but much more purple. Robin winced, breaking eye contact.

"How is it?"

Chris sighed.

"I think I'm gonna lose the eye," he deadpanned.

Robin laughed, and Chris grinned back at her.

"Such a shame. Maybe we should get you an eye patch," Robin suggested.

"Oh yeah, that'd be real good for my reputation," Chris joked, "From lowlife to pirate."

"Your new getup could come with a sword?"

Chris gave her a wry smile. "As if I didn't look out of place already."

She hated to admit it, but it was true: Chris did look out of place amongst their fellow peers. He especially stood out against their classmates from Castle View, whose fastidious grooming and primping screamed how vain they all were. In a sea of paisley shirts and bright babydoll dresses, he stuck out like a sore thumb. It wasn't that Chris didn't appear to take care of himself; he looked so much more…effortless compared to everyone else.

"You do," Robin agreed.

Chris cocked an eyebrow at her.

"No, no, that didn't come out like I meant it to! I'm sorry!" Robin said hurriedly, "I just meant—everyone cares so much about what they look like and what they're wearing—you look like there's more that you care about! And I mean, not that your clothes look bad or anything—you kind of have a James Dean thing going on."

Chris smirked at her. "So you like that?"

Robin's face flushed red.

"I don't know! I guess. A lot of people like James Dean."

"Something he and I don't have in common," Chris remarked with a chuckle, "But hey, I'll take the compliment. Here I was thinkin' that you were gonna say I look like a Cobra."

…That was true too. With his leather jacket, straight legged jeans and engineer boots, he certainly could pass as a member of Castle Rock's gang of degenerates. Robin bit her lip, which Chris caught. He let out a single laugh.

"I do, don't I?" he asked.

"But you're not like them, Chris!" Robin insisted, "You're not at all!"

Chris smiled. "Thanks, Robin. And really, it's okay, I know I look like a Cobra. And I know I'm like a blot on the landscape to those pricks from The View…it really fucks with them."

To Robin's surprise, Chris's smile turned into a mischievous grin. She stared back at him, perplexed.

"They see me year after year in the college courses, and it's still the biggest damn shock of their lives," Chris explained, "Make no mistake, I'm doing all of this for me, but proving those assholes wrong feels pretty good."

"Yeah," Robin agreed, smiling at him sadly, "I'd imagine it does. It's just not fair what you've gone through—honestly, what everyone has put you through."

She could feel both the indignance and the guilt building up inside of her again. How could all of these people treat him so poorly? How could she have just ignored it for all of these years?

"Well, it is what it is at this point," Chris said simply.

And how could he just accept it?!

"It's still wrong! So wrong—and I could've done something!" she exclaimed, the guilt of standing by eating away at her.

Chris sighed. "Robin, I mean it, you couldn't have done anything…"

"Well I could've talked to a teacher, or the principal, or someone who's in some sort of position of power—"

Chris snorted. "Trust me, that wouldn't have accomplished shit."

Robin opened her mouth and then closed it, sensing that he had had experience with it before. He had a hard but mocking expression on his face.

"Back when I didn't care about school—back when I thought I'd be stuck in this hellhole for the rest of my life—the truant officer paid me a lot of visits," Chris explained, cynicism dripping from his voice, "If I was playing hooky, I'd get a week's detention and dragged to school. But wouldn't ya know, if I looked like I had been on the wrong end of a boxing match, I'd be left alone and no one said diddly-squat."

Anger at Castle Rock coursed through Robin's veins. Nothing about his life had been fair, and a corrupt system failed him repeatedly. But maybe he didn't need her anger right now.

"I'm so sorry Chris," she lamented, "I'm so sorry you've gone through all of this. At least with college next year you won't have to deal with it anymore."

He looked at her with an almost regretful expression, his lips curved into a sad smile.

"Thanks. And yeah it'll all be worth it next year. I just hope my brothers and sister will be okay."

Robin's heart almost stopped. To think that his younger siblings would have to endure the same abuse made her feel sick. What could she do?

"It might be hard but don't let that stop you from going, okay? This is what you've been wanting and you have got to go through it."

"I know."

Robin's eyes moved to the ice bag resting in Chris's lap.

"I want you to have that," she told him, gesturing with her head to the ice bag.

Chris gave her a puzzled look. "What? No, Robin, that's okay. This isn't the first time I've had to deal with this, and it won't be the last."

"I want you to have it for you," she insisted firmly, "And I want your brothers and sister to have it too."

Chris hesitated. "You really don't—"

"Yes," Robin cut across him, "I do. You said I couldn't do anything, but this is the literal least that I can do. Please."

He paused, and then he looked her directly in the eye.

"Thanks, Robin," he acquiesced, "This will help."

"Good. I'm glad."

They sat together for a few moments in silence. Robin didn't know what else to say as he gazed at her face, into her eyes. He always appeared to be trying to see through to her, to get to the bottom of what she was thinking and feeling, but this felt different. There was something about the way Chris was looking at her…

"I should get back to them," he murmured suddenly, "Make sure they're not too shaken up. Ol' man should be passed out on the sofa by now."

"Okay," Robin agreed halfheartedly.

They both stood up and faced each other. Chris held up the ice bag and smiled at her.

"I owe you one, Robin. Thank you."

"No problem at all," she replied softly, "See you soon."

With one last smile, Chris turned and sauntered away. She watched as he retreated slowly into the darkness and into the direction towards school, just like she had done the week before. But this time, there was a part of her that didn't want him to leave.