Ok, ok. So I suck at this whole timely chapter crap thing. But here we go again. Guess what time it is! It's shame time! I mean, late at night…time. That means I'm writing, which means, oh hell. Here you go, Chapter Two.
Oh, and also, I am entering this in the Mini NaNoMo writing thinger over at Harry's.
Disclaimer: YES. I AM THE PROUD OWNER OF WHICH HUNTER ROBIN. HA. HA. HA.
Under
the fog fog fog
And I will leave them all
Well I'm just a poor
little baby
Cause well I believe them all
Oh so while
you're growing old
Under the gun gun gun
And I believe them
all
Well I'm just one poor baby
Cause well I believe them all
-Y Control, Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Ping, ping, ping. Robin raised her head groggily with a grunt. Ping, ping, ping. Looking around sleepily she sought whatever it was that had so annoyingly awakened her from her thankfully dreamless sleep.
Her eyes began to adjust in the almost all-consuming darkness, picking up shapes and forms; a rope, a crate, a metal ladder affixed solidly to the wall. She glanced up. Ping, ping, ping. Sighing, she realized where she was and what had so rudely awakened her. It was pouring. Not that she was wet, or even normally bothered by rain, but it was still raining nonetheless. The little metallic pings seemed to surround her as they bounced off the hull of the ship, creating an odd acoustic resonance. Under normal circumstances she might have found it calming. Not today. She was still exhausted, and from the aches that still remained in her muscles—and one particularly uncomfortable crick in her neck, she wasn't sure if she had slept hours or minutes.
With a very un Robin-like 'hoof' she flopped back down to the floor of the ship, finding herself lying on something soft, that smelled good—glancing down in surprise she suddenly realized that she was resting on Amon's coat. 'No wonder it smelled good.' Her brain rattled at her, causing her cheeks to darken. She hadn't remembered requesting his coat, or even remembered lying down on it. Amon, where was Amon? She hadn't seen him in her initial sleepy perusal of the storage compartment that they were currently squatting in.
Forgetting the relative warmth of Amon's coat Robin pushed herself up, abandoning the coat in search of its owner. The pings of rain continued to ricochet off the insides of her pounding head as she wearily searched about the compartment. She looked behind boxes, crates, and other ship cargo; without her gloves they were all scratchy surfaces and hard angles. Not pleasing at all to touch. Shifting her hands over a rough box she felt a sharp pain, looking down and realizing she had drawn blood across her knuckles. Robin sighed, she wasn't usually clumsy.
The compartment was so dark and her eyes hadn't properly adjusted at all. She stopped for a moment—straining her eyes into the blackness, only to see the same blurred shapes she'd been staring at for the few minutes that she'd been awake. They blended together, forming an ugly black ominous thing, looming over her and consuming her.
"Amon…" Her own shaky voice surprised her, the desperation with which she had uttered the word starting to crawl from her voice box into her brain. She felt panic rising in her throat, lodging itself there as all the possible ways that he could have left the ship zipped through her head, lightning fast. "Amon." There it was again, that hopelessness, the despair. Apparently her brain had become very dependant, addicted, without her knowledge.
A sharp, sudden rustling to her left caused her to jump. "Robin." Her heart sank back to its normal position in her chest, and the clog in her throat left, soothed away by the gruff caress of his voice. "Are you hungry? I brought some food onto the ship with me." Food, ugh. Her stomach growled, a sign that probably signaled to Amon that she was indeed hungry. She probably would want food about now, if she could even remember what actually wanting to eat felt like. The growling of her stomach ceased, leaving her only with a painful curling in her gut, too painful to think about putting food into.
"No, I'm not hungry."
"Robin, you should—"
"Amon, no. I'm fine." She sat down, suddenly exhausted. She looked up into the looming black shape of her warden, comforted by his presence, for the moment.
……….
Amon sat down across from her, watching as her eyelids slowly closed, her head slumping against the crate she was resting against. His own eyes drifted down to where her hands were curled in her lap. His eyebrows raised, her knuckles were scratched and slightly bloody. When had that? The worry that had begin to sink it's icy claws into him pushed harder, as it had seemed to be doing every time he saw her now. She was looking worse and worse by the day. She was exhausted, probably sick, and too thin. Considering their present lives this shouldn't have surprised him, but it did, because this was Robin. Robin, who had been through so much already in her young life, Robin who had taken everything thrown at her and swallowed it without complaint, always persevering and surviving. Had she swallowed too much, had running away from her life, totally and completely for the second time been too much? Or, was something else eating at her soul?
For the first time in his life, Amon wished he had a craft. If he could only see into her small blonde head, even for just a moment, if he could just see what was eating her from the inside out, maybe he could stop being such a useless warden and start doing something for her. She wasn't a victim, so why was she acting like one?
God, what was he doing to her?
…………
Sleeping was nice, so nice; so quiet and peaceful. Waking however, was as usual, another story all together. She blinked her eyes, feeling restless, and useless. She felt like her skin was crawling—not because she felt dirty, oh she was dirty, she hadn't bathed in days, which bothered her in its own right, but this was something different. Nothing felt in place, her hands itched; her brain was working at a million miles and hour. Whimpering, and not knowing what else to do she laid herself down, pressing her eyes as tightly closed as she could.
What could she do? She was only one woman—one girl, one young, naïve, girl. What if they never made it, what if they were caught, killed. Amon, oh God Amon, if anything happened to him she would. She felt tears start to sting at her eyes. If she could just crawl out of this life—no she couldn't do that, never do that.
She was a wreck and she knew it. At least at Nagira's she had had some semblance of a home to come back to at night. A strange, raised bed, but a bed nonetheless. She had slept, and had dreams, horrible, tortured dreams, but she had slept.
An outcast, that was what she was. A child not allowed to live in this world, a small girl, running, hiding, hiding with a man who didn't care. It was just too much. She didn't want this, didn't ask for this, so why was she getting it?
So overwhelming.
So tired.
Her hands rubbed against one another in the dark, opening the freshly scabbed over cuts on her knuckles.
……...
The cargo hold opened, and Amon watched warily from behind a crate as muscled, gloved workers began to remove the contents of the ship, slowly, piece by piece. He glanced back at Robin, who was staring into space, eyes half-lidded. She swayed once, and he put his hand on her shoulder, steadying her gently, his eyes meeting hers with a strange force. She blinked at him, her eyes holding his for a moment before returning to their half-lidded, glazed state.
He was taking her to a doctor. He didn't care if it put them in danger. Right now, it was more dangerous for her to remain in the state that she was in, than to take her somewhere to recover. He had already sketched out the e-mail he would send to Nagira in his head, now the only question was of finding a terminal to send his message from. They were in Barcelona, and having never visited the city in his life, Amon hadn't the slightest inkling of where to go for secure medical help.
For the time being he would take her to the nearest motel and make her rest. She had actually slept for most of the ship ride, yet upon his announcement that they were going to be leaving the ship she had looked up at him with dark, pronounced circles under her eyes. She was still a mess.
Amon could see the sunlight streaming in through the open cargo hold, it alit upon the boxes that seemed so dark and looming before, casting a warm glow. He would have much rather docked at night, but for this particular trip, it wasn't his choosing.
After about an hour the workers ceased to come back into the ship. Sunlight was still streaming through the large opening, and as much as he would have rather waited until night to sneak out, (knowing the ship would be docked for several days) the desire at the forefront of his mind was to get Robin out of this dank, musty hole.
He grabbed her hand, holding it firmly and securely in his as he pulled her slowly toward the light. He had no desire for her lethargic state to get them into trouble, not now. She seemed to start at the form grip he had on her hand. He still had his gloves on, but he was careful to avoid her knuckles, noticing as he looked down that the blood looked, fresh?
She stumbled slightly as they moved towards the entrance, but as soon as she stepped across the gangway, and into the sun she seemed to brighten a bit. Her eyes squinted at the harsh light; it must have hurt a bit, after being kept in the dark of the ships hold for so long.
They walked quickly away from the Port de Barcelona, as a sign so proudly boasted as they neared the street. Signs in Spanish directed them to various places, but his eyes glazed over them, searching only for transportation and lodging. They reached the street, and Amon stuck his hand out, feeling foolish as he tried to wave down a taxi.
After several minutes of frustration on Amon's part, as taxi's sped by him to other patrons on the street, seeming to think he and Robin invisible, one finally roared up beside them. It stopped quite abruptly, and he took a moment to eye the driver, before ushering Robin in ahead of them and then climbing in himself.
"Dondé señor?"
Amon narrowed his brows. Shit. He didn't know where any hotels were, nor was he very fluent in Spanish. The taxi driver, apparently somewhat annoyed by his taciturn passengers turned to face them.
"Señor y Señorita," he said with conviction, "a dondé va?"
He fumbled, "Necesitamos una…"
"Hotel cerca Las Ramblas." Robin finished for him smoothly. Amon looked to where she was sitting beside him, eyes wide.
"A, sí, hay una hotel, Le Meridien que cerca Las Ramblas." The cab driver responded, promptly putting the car into gear and speeding off.
"Why didn't you tell me that you were fluent in Spanish, or that you had knowledge of Barcelona?" He asked her, his voice sounding oddly amused.
Robin shrugged. "I'm fluent in Italian, the two languages are very similar. It was only a small deviation in my language tutoring for me to learn it. Besides, the city is very beautiful, I was interested in studying it back at the convent." With that she slumped into her seat, eyes resuming their glazed staring.
Amon shook his head. Even exhausted, and sick, Robin still never ceased to surprise him.
……
The hotel room was sparse, he had booked the cheapest one that had two beds and a laptop hub. Even so, it looked inviting. The beds were white, and the linen that covered them looked soft. Thank god for Spanish hospitality. Even so, he hoped they were enticing and comfortable enough to get her to properly rest.
"Robin, take off your shoes and go lie down. I want you to sleep, and then when you wake up I want you to eat." Her face scrunched at the mention of eating, but she dutifully made her way over to the bed closest to the window. He hadn't yet told her of his plan to drag her off to a doctor; he figured there was no reason to yet. He knew she had no fear of hospitals, having been with her, so many months ago when she had hurt her arm on a hunt, and had to have it bandaged. Still, there was no reason to place any extra worry on her slim shoulders. He watched as she slowly removed her shoes, placing them delicately beside the bed, as she crawled into it and pulled the sheets around her. Robin seen to, Amon went hunting for that laptop hub.
………
Whoo boy, I am so very sorry for not updating in…most of forever. So, here it is! Also, those of you who like this will be happy to know that chapter 3 is DONE. I'm just tweaking it, so it should be posted very soon.
