Trust No One

Disclaimer: I don't own Witch Hunter Robin. No money is being made from this. Blah blah blah...

Summery: Oneshot. Warning for early series spoilers. A possible glimpse into Robin's mind in the events leading up to Episodes 15/16. Written from Robin's POV.

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I should have listened.

I know...I should have listened to you Father Juliano, heeded your advice, taken it to heart.

But I didn't.

And now look at me.

I'm afraid. I haven't truly been afraid in a long, long time. I may only be 15, but there are times I feel as though I've lived a lifetime of years. I feel it deep in my heart. It may be the reason others fear me so.

I've never understood it, why others would fear me. They shrink away as I walk by; whisper behind my back, but never to my face. My craft is for protecting them. I would never harm them. I am innocent of the crimes they think I have or will commit.

But it doesn't matter now. No one fears me now. It is I who fear.

Those I thought I might trust....it is I who cower in their presence. I try to act like nothing has changed. I continue to assist in any way I can, smile for them if I can manage it. But all the while, I watch them. Like a deer on the alert for its predators, I watch them all. And I listen. A part of me feels ashamed in doing so. A slight movement, any movement by any of them...and I immediately tense. Miho's reassuring nods, Dojima lazily turning the pages of her magazines, Sakaki pacing around or lounging in his chair, Michael's persistent typing.....not a one of them takes a breath without my knowing. I simply cannot relax my guard.

I wonder....if Mary felt this way around Joseph before and after telling him of her miraculous pregnancy. The still, awkward moments, the forced, polite conversation.....

.....it's enough to drive one mad.

Every time they move, I wonder. I wonder if they are moving to draw their weapons, to encircle me so that I cannot escape.

I wonder....if deep in their secret minds they entertain thoughts of malice. Do they envision themselves taking careful aim to do away with me? Do they finger their guns and imagine themselves pulling the trigger on me? Would they rejoice as I fall, knowing that I could not, would not defend myself against them?

Would they regret it if they did?

As I lay upon the office couch, my eyes never turning away, I remind myself that I must not turn my back on any of them. The moment I do could be my last.

I'm afraid to close my eyes.

But somehow, some way, sleep takes me.

Yet in the deep recesses of my mind where I should find comfort and solace, a moment of peace, I am hunted again in the nightmarish world of my own hell. They stalk me, taunt me, surround me. Every one of them.

They point their guns at me, their faces hidden. A voice...his voice...whispering.

"A witch must always be hunted."

I try to scream, try to make them understand. I'm not a witch. I can't be.

But nothing comes out.

I watch in helpless slow motion as their fingers tighten on the triggers. Orbo bullets fly at me from all directions. Their aim is true. I feel the sharp sting of each one as they enter my body, paralyzing me, killing me. Pain overcomes me as I fall backward. Still no sound escapes me lips. I feel the forceful blow as I hit the pavement. I cannot move. Tears fall from my eyes as darkness takes me.

I wonder...is this how Jesus felt, when Judas kissed Him in the garden?

I awaken yet again, bolting upright. There is no light in the room. No one is there. It's hard to breathe. I feel as though I nearly drowned, and have just come up for air.

The dream replays in my head, over and over again. I couldn't see their faces. I knew who they were, but I refused to look at them. I didn't want to see their expressions. I didn't want to know what they were feeling as they killed me. I didn't want to know which one shot first.

Now I'm afraid to open my eyes. If what I saw must come to pass, I don't want to see it. Any of it.

And I don't want to see him. I don't want to see you. Amon.

I fear you the most. I have not seen you since that day, in Touko's apartment. And yet I know where you must be.

You're hiding away, planning the hunt. From start to finish, you are drawing every minute detail so that nothing can go wrong.

Master Harry told me not to be afraid of you. You'd never betray anyone. But you betrayed the other one, didn't you? The other craft user?

What does Master know anyway? He feared his own son. I didn't blame him for it at the time. I sympathized with him. Deep in my heart, his sorrow was mine. I can't let myself feel that anymore, can I?

At first, I was drawn to you. I had a strange fixation with you. I thought perhaps it might have been a crush, but I realize the truth now.

You weren't afraid of me. At least, you never showed it if you were. Then again, you didn't show much of anything.

It didn't matter that you didn't like me. You weren't afraid of me, like everyone else I've known.

But things are different now. I see things as they truly were. I fear you. I fear everything about you.

Your eyes, your beautiful haunting eyes glare daggers at me, holding me in place while wishing death upon me. If looks could kill, I'd be dead a thousand times over.

Your pursed lips spoke few words to me. But I remember every one. Like the vampire that slowly, methodically steals blood from his victim, you steal my will, my confidence with every harsh command or critical rebuke.

I cannot understand why you despise me so. You made me feel as though I was the cause every wrong thing in this world, in your life.

I tried to brush it all off, tried to make the best of things for the sake of my mission.

But now I am cursed, doomed to live in eternal fear of you and those that would follow you.

I went against my mentor's advice. I knew it was wrong but I couldn't help it. I tried to be your friend. I trusted you all despite everything. Now I know.

"Trust no one."

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I'm a new writer on the block. Thanks for enduring my ramblings. I may write more stories if any other ideas come to me. Suggestions and thoughts are always welcome.

-StandAlone