Author: Rose With Thorns
Robin and Amon are in hiding, living day by day, while Amon's powers are growing. Little by little, while learning more about Robin's past, Amon may discover who he is.
Rating: PG-13, but it may go up
Pairing: RobinxAmon
Chapter One: I Think It's Going to Rain Today
Broken
windows and empty hallways
A pale dead moon in the sky streaked with gray
Human kindness is overflowing
And I think it's going to rain today
Scarecrows dressed in the latest styles
With frozen smiles to chase love away
Human kindness is overflowing
And I think it's going to rain today
Lonely, lonely
Tin can at my feet
Think I'll kick it down the street
That's the way to treat a friend
Bright before me the signs implore me
To help the needy and show them the way
Human kindness is overflowing
And I think it's going to rain today
It always rained in London. Always.
Robin leaned against the window, her forehead against the glass. On the street below she could see Amon's outline in the phone booth, his black silhouette in stark contrast with the red of the booth. She'd seen them in books as a child, but never thought they were real.
She never would have thought that the child of the Devil was real, either.
She watched his shoulders slump as he placed the phone back, and then exit the booth. This had become a routine. She'd stand across the street or near by and watch; always making sure he never saw her watching. Robin slipped from her perch, back to her room.
Two months. It'd been two months of running and calling for information. Salomon had questioned Nagira, but he'd told them that they were only half brothers, and that they barely spoke as children. They'd believed the lie.
"Robin."
She turned around. Amon stood in the doorway, his hair wet and water still dripping from his coat in rivets. "Hai?"
"We'll be leaving in the morning. You should pack."
"Where are we headed this time?" She handed him a towel.
"Ireland."
She nodded, and moved into the bedroom.
Their bedroom. They rented one-bedroom hotel rooms since Salomon would be looking for two people. She still flushed, every time they'd check in. Along the way Amon had purchased two plain, golden bands. Seeing the bands seemed to cause less suspicion among clerks at the front desk. The first motel, at two in the morning, had declined their request for a room on account of the fact that they didn't allow business of 'that' kind.
She barely owned anything other than the clothing on her back. She kept the small photograph of her mother with her, in her pocket, her glasses were constantly on, a bible, and a few pieces of clothing, all kept in a small sac she kept with her.
Amon had entered the bathroom, and as much as she hated to do it, she knocked on the door.
"What?" he was annoyed, obviously.
"Gomen, Amon. I just wanted to let you know I was going to the church."
She could hear the sigh. "Where is it?"
"It's just around the corner."
"Fine."
Amon stared at his reflection. He felt…
Dark.
He needed to get rid of that feeling. He'd been living with it for so long now…
Cupping his hands together he splashed his face, the stubble saw getting worse. He hadn't shave in a while. He really should, in fact, just the other day, Robin had…
Robin.
Her name had become a prayer for him so long ago that now he closed his eyes and inhaled. The bathroom still smelled of her bath. He frowned, suddenly realizing she left with wet hair. He'd seen her on the window sear watching him, wet tendrils of dark blond hair sticking to the sides of her face.
He had let his disappointment show, and she'd seen it. That was probably why she was going to church. He put his holster back on and threw on his coat. He should make sure she was okay.
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been three weeks since my last confession."
"Tell me your sins, child."
Robin took a breath. "I-" it didn't come out, instead, something else came out. "I sometimes…feel like I am alone. And I know that God is with me, but…"
"God shall never leave you alone. He shall always be with you in some form."
She closed her eyes, relieved to hear that. "And for penance, father?"
"An Our Father and a Hail Mary, child, though I must say, these feelings are quite normal."
He started to murmur those words that always comforted her, and she walked over to a pew to pray.
Amon walked apprehensively into the church. He'd never been one for worship, and the environment had always made him feel uneasy.
Candles seemed to be everywhere, and for a moment, he couldn't find her. His hand went to his holster.
A couple moved and her dark hair gave her away, contrasting with the black of her clothing. She had long ago thrown away the constrictive bustle and trench coat, as had he. Her cranberry pea coat was on the seat next to her, and the thick sweater she wore was a size too big. Her head was dipped in prayer. He took a seat behind her.
"…Now and at the hour of our death, Amen." She crossed herself, and after genuflecting, turned, but gasped when she saw Amon
He held out her coat for her, and she flushed. "Dono, Amon."
She sat up, panting. It had happened again, that horrible feeling that always came when a witch was hunted. Little by little she was becoming more aware of witches around, of their pain, their suffering. Amon, upon seeing that she was bored a week ago, thought that going to Stonehenge was a novel idea, but it had only resulted in their hurried departure. Historians were wrong. Stonehenge had been used for the trials and murders of witches. Their cries still pierced her thoughts every now and then.
She held the blankets to herself, shivering from the chill. They kept hadn't put on the heat. Amon never complained, and Robin's many nights in the Abby had left her with thankfulness for thick blankets, alone. She mentally cursed herself for wearing only a thin shirt.
She padded into the other room, where the bar refrigerator and coffee maker was. She had started a pot of coffee before she'd gone to bed, knowing that she'd wake. Robin gripped the cup heavily for warmth, a small grin escaping as the coffee's rich taste hit her tongue.
"It was a little girl this time, Amon." She knew he was behind her. She hadn't wanted to let on that she knew, but she had started to be able to sense his presence. It was fainter than most, but still there. He sat down across from her. "So young. She didn't know better."
"Where?"
"Europe…Spain, I think."
"As long as they're not close to us."
"But Amon, she was only trying to stop them from hitting her with a stick!" she slammed the coffee down, and it sloshed over the side.
"It is too late…rather, too early, to be having this childish conversation."
Robin looked away. He was so insensitive. "I just feel it's wrong, Amon," she said quietly. "Why should she suffer because of something she can't control?"
"I could ask the same of you."
She took a napkin and started to clean up the spill. "I have accepted what I am, even if I really don't know what it is. A seven year old cannot understand something as…as different as being a Witch is."
"I can say the same about a fifteen year old." Those last words stung. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes.
"You are cruel, Amon." Robin got up from the table, and retreated through the bedroom door.
His head hit his hands. He was cruel, and he knew it. It was for her own good, really.
Wasn't it?
He walked back into the bedroom; her covers were over her head, a few strands sticking out over the top. Amon started to lie back down, but he crossed the small distance between their beds and sat on the edge of hers. She lowered the coverlet slowly.
"I was a little-"
"No."
Her green eyes met his with surprise.
"No. You weren't being childish. You're never immature, Robin. I apologize."
She sat up, her head slightly to one side. He tried to keep still. The faintest movement and she'd know what he was thinking.
"How long will we be in Ireland?"
"Until Nagira finds more information pointing to somewhere else or until we meet up with any more Hunters. We've been lucky, so far."
Robin smiled. "It is because you are watching out for me." Her eyes fell upon his arm. Someone trying to lift some money off of him had shot him two weeks ago. By far, the would-be burglar had been injured far worse. "Maybe you'd be better off without me, though."
"I stay because someone needs to look after you, Robin. In case you loose-"
"Control. I know Amon."
Amon got up from the bed. They'd been around each other too long. "Get some sleep, Robin. Our flight is at nine."
He got onto his bed, but could barely sleep. The image of a young girl with tears in her eyes haunted his memory. He could feel that somehow, the manner in which they had been living was now being challenged.
By each other.