Sometimes, when Nagira wanted to think, he wandered up to the spare room in his office. He would lie on the bed, next to the ghost of Robin, hearing her breathe, cry, shake, long for his brother and a way out.
When he was really worried, he would tell her it was going to be ok.
Once in a while, when he looked around he thought he saw them. A passing reference in a magazine to a certain book, a cryptic ad, the silence in between songs on the radio, it all felt like them to him.
He believed they were ok.
He had to believe they were ok.
Sometimes, when he couldn't think because Robin's breaths were too shaky, when he heard Amon's sigh and the whisper of his hair when he looked down defeated, he'd roll to the side and shut his eyes tight.
"It's going to be ok. You're alive. You're alive."