Chapter 3: Rob(bed Bank)

Rob pushed his sunglasses up his nose. The sweltering summer heat made them slip down whenever he dared to slouch his posture and dip his chin. He was on his way to the corner store, which was a twenty minute walk from the pristine house that belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Baker—Robert and Jo Ann, as they insisted on being called.

They were nice enough people, he supposed, even if they were too cheap to leave the air conditioner on for more than an hour at a time. Hence his desperate need to raid their coin tin and make the sweltering trek to the nearest shop for some ice cream. He'd spend a good thirty minutes in there if he could, if the clerk didn't start to eye him up like he was some kind of criminal. When he got back, hopefully the AC would be on.

Rob stuffed his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts—some kind of pity gift from Jo Ann given his complaints about the weather—and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He'd walked this route enough times that he knew it very well, but that knowledge didn't make the trip feel any shorter.

He had just reached the halfway point when he caught sight of the van.

Plain, unmarked van rolling at a sedate pace down the quiet neighbourhood street. Rob slowed his steps to watch it go by. The blazing sun made it glow something awful. If it hadn't been for his sunglasses, he might have had difficulty looking directly at the van, but as it was, he could make out two people in the front seat: two men, both also wearing sunglasses.

Rob thought that they looked vaguely familiar, but the heat and bright light overhead made it difficult to tell. The van kept going, driving in the opposite direction that he was headed in, and soon Rob forgot about the strange occurrence in favour of continuing his quest for ice cream.

One week later, the weather had cooled. Despite this, Rob had once again decided to go for his weekly treat at the shop. This time, he planned to buy a pack or two of gum. The Bakers never noticed when loose change went missing, and he figured if he asked, they would say yes anyway. It wasn't like they needed it. From what Rob could tell, they were well off. Taking in foster kids was probably something they did so they could feel better about themselves.

Rob kicked at loose pebbles on the pavement as he shuffled his way down the street. The street was quiet, always quiet. People here kept their kids at home, or took them to the malls, or took them to the pools. This was not the type of neighbourhood where kids played on the streets.

When the white van turned the corner up ahead, Rob took notice of it. The two men from before were there, this time without their sunglasses on. They were, however, wearing masks. Rob, who spent his free time on the internet like most other kids his age, recognized the masks.

If he was not mistaken, the man in the driver's seat was Lord Voldemort.

The van crawled to a very slow roll. Rob stopped walking to watch it. As the van passed by him, the man in the passenger seat swiveled to look him in the eyes.

Rob lifted a hand and waved.

The van kept on going, but the man kept staring at him. Rob stood there a while longer, waiting to see if the van would stop. When it didn't and the van's occupants were no longer visible, Rob resumed his walk to the shop.

Once there, he bought a pack of gum and a bag of crisps. Then he went home and borrowed Robert Baker's tablet so he could look up Lord Voldemort and his associates.

The next day, Rob made an unnecessary trip to the shop to buy beef jerky (and to look for the creepy unmarked van).

When he saw the van, he made sure to wave. The man in the van waved back, then had his hand knocked aside by Lord Voldemort. There was a brief tussle between the two men which made the van drift dangerously close to the far pavement, but soon enough, the van straightened out as the two men inside got themselves sorted.

Rob stifled a snort and kept walking, aware of the eyes that followed him. He went to the shop, bought his jerky, went home, and nicked an old sports bag from the Bakers' attic to cram his things into.

The next day, Rob went out, but there was no van anywhere. He spent an hour or so walking around, bag slung over his shoulder. No van or men in masks came up to him. Disappointed, Rob went back to the Bakers' house. He dumped his bag on the floor of his room and kicked it.

That night there were police sirens in the neighbourhood. The next morning, there was a news report online about a string of high-profile robberies in the area where the Bakers lived. Not only had thousands of pounds been stolen, but the homes had belonged to rich business men with many questionable things on their private laptops. Questionable, illegal things that had been uploaded for everyone to see.

Rob packed his bag back up and told Jo Ann he was going out and would be home for dinner. He had a hunch, a hope, and he would see it through.

Once outside, he did not head towards the shop. Instead, he headed in the opposite direction, the direction that led to the park. At the park, he located a bench with a good view of the main road and sat down on it.

It was a long wait. He pulled a pencil and a sudoku book out of his bag and started on one of the puzzles labelled 'medium'. He was part way through his first 'hard' puzzle when a black unmarked van came to a stop in front of the park.

Rob shut his book and got up. This van had tinted windows, but as he approached, the driver's seat window rolled down, revealing a dark-haired man with a bright, car salesman smile that seemed kind of forced.

"Hello," said the man in a cheery tone. "Wanna hang?"

Rob shrugged, said, "Okay," and made his way around to the back of the van.

Even from a distance, Rob could hear a whispered argument break out as the passenger door slid open to let the second man out of the van.

"Wanna hang? Why don't you phone the POLICE while you're at it, Tom—"

"It worked, didn't it?"

A man with messy hair and glasses came into view. He was also smiling, but his smile looked forced for different reasons. "Let me get this open for you..." He wrenched open the two back doors and gestured Rob inside. "Sorry if it's a mess. This isn't our usual van, but we had to pick something a little less suspicious."

Rob couldn't quite see how a black unmarked van was less suspicious than a white unmarked van, but he wasn't about to question it.

The interior of the van was relatively clean. There was a stain or two on some of the seating that was probably blood. Rob set his bag on the floor and sat down.

Tom glanced at Rob in the rearview mirror as he pulled the vehicle away from the curb. He was squinting in a funny way that made his forehead wrinkle. "How old are you?" he asked after a moment.

"I'm fourteen," Rob answered without thinking, then wondered if he should have lied and given them an older age. He didn't want to be shipped off to some creepy place to be used for child labour. If they thought he was older, they might give him a proper job, which was what he wanted. "But I'm smart for my age," he added. "I get very good grades at school." What else did criminals need children for? "I can fit in small places."

"Christ," said the second man. He shared a glance with Tom, who Rob was beginning to suspect was Lord Voldemort. "He's old."

"I'm not that old," Rob protested. Wait, why was he protesting that? "I mean, I'm a good age. A decent age."

"We can't take an older child," Tom said crossly. "That's the rule, Harry."

"That was never a rule," Harry retorted. He twisted his body to stare back at Rob. "Are you really fourteen? You look younger."

Rob didn't know what the best answer to give was. "Why is it bad if I'm old?"

"We're taking him home," Tom said, shoving Harry away with his left hand. "Where do you live, older child that we are not taking?"

"I don't have a home," Rob said, folding his arms over his chest. "There's nowhere to take me."

Tom glared at him in the rearview mirror. "That's rubbish. You're wearing different clothes than before and you didn't have that bag the first time we saw you."

Rob was not impressed. "Do you two just pick up children and abandon them on the side of the road if they're too old?"

"We do not," Harry said, sounding offended. "We aren't creeps! I did try to talk Tom into a mustache for fun disguise purposes, but he wouldn't do it."

"That sounds fun," Rob said slowly. If he kept them talking, maybe they would forget he wasn't supposed to be here. "Was he going to grow one out on his own? Or were you going to use a fake one?"

"Neither," said Tom. The van did a funny jerk, like it had bumped against something.

"As if Tom could grow a proper mustache on his own." Harry held a finger over his upper lip and gave it a playful wiggle. "The only time he has one is when our kids draw it on him."

"You guys have kids?" Rob asked, curious. This was news to him. The internet had never mentioned Lord Voldemort having children.

"Two kids," Harry clarified. "They started school this past year! Wait, I have photos—"

Tom smacked him. "Don't go showing photos of our children to strangers, you neanderthal."

Harry scowled. "This is a literal child that we have just kidnapped, not a stranger, but fine. I'll just have to talk about them instead."

"You will not," Tom said flatly. As he turned the steering wheel, the van jerked again. "We are taking this child home. Do any of these houses look familiar to you, child?"

"So they've started primary," Harry said loudly, "and Stolen really likes the plastic bugs they have. Sometimes they take them home and leave them lying around to scare their father."

"You would be scared if there was a large plastic cockroach glued to your boxers," Tom said in an irritated tone, reaching over to once again shove Harry back into his seat.

"Stop that! Eyes on the road, you maniac!" Harry flailed, squirming out of the way. Then he crawled out of his seat and tumbled into the back, where Rob was sitting. "Anyway, Tom's bitter that he has a cockroach phobia now. Not good for business if your enemies find out you have an irrational fear of plastic cockroaches."

"I do not—" The van swerved weirdly again, thoroughly claiming Tom's attention.

"Right, so, where was I?" Harry straightened up and sat down across from Rob. "Our kids are the best kids in the world. We would spend all our time with them if we could, but unfortunately, someone here is a supervillain."

"You knew that when you married me!"

Harry waved an airy hand. "Irrelevant."

"If you're busy," Rob said hopefully, "maybe what you need is a babysitter?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Are you offering?"

Rob nodded. "That way you don't have to take me home. I can just, you know, live with you guys and watch your kids for you."

"No," said Tom from the front seat. "Absolutely not."

Harry seemed to be thinking it over. "As much as I hate telling Tom that he's right, I think he's right. My idiot husband is a supervillain, which means we can't hire you because it's too dangerous."

"You KNEW that when you MARRIED me!"

"I didn't know we'd be kidnapping small children together!"

Things were getting confusing, but Rob thought he now had some idea of what was going on, and why they had told him he was too old to be kidnapped. "I know you said I was too old, but how about if you kidnap me anyway? I could be your third child."

Harry looked at Tom. "I like this one," he said. "Can we take them? Please?"

Tom scowled and pulled the van over. There was another faint thump as the vehicle came to a stop. "We will discuss this outside," he said. "Away from the child."

Both men got out of the van. The thing was, Rob could still hear them, not because the van was particularly susceptible to carrying sound, but because Tom had left the driver seat window rolled down from earlier.

"We don't take children from safe homes," Tom said in a firm tone. "We leave them where they are! If we start taking just any child, where does that leave us? With far too many children, that's what."

"Any child that is willing to get into an unmarked van with you as the driver can't be in a safe place."

"That's not the—wait. What do you mean with me as the driver?"

"I can get a permit in two years!" Rob shouted through the van wall.

"You're not supposed to be listening in!" Harry called back. "But that's great news!"

"People will go looking for an older child," Tom said in a lower voice. "This will lead to trouble."

There was a long stretch of silence before Harry said, "Yeah. I guess you're right. I don't want to put the kids in any danger..."

The back of the van opened. Rob blinked at the sudden influx of light and reflexively slid back in his seat.

"We can't kidnap you," Harry said, sounding genuinely disappointed. "Sorry."

"Wait," Rob protested, "you don't have to do this."

Harry frowned. "Unless your home life is really bad or something, we can't really justify it. You seem like a good kid from a good home. Maybe you think living with villains is fun, but we can't risk taking you just because of that."

Rob was tempted to lie, but he had the feeling that they would know if he did. "I live in foster care," he said quickly, "no one's going to miss me, I promise. In a few more years, they'll kick me out anyway."

"Then come to us in a few years," Tom said. "I'll find a spot for you in my ranks when you're a legal adult."

Rob didn't want to wait a few more years. "If you don't take me, I'll go around telling people who you are. I'll expose your identities."

The two men looked at each other, then Harry shut the van doors.

Rob waited to see what they would do, if they would get back in the van and drive him away, but he couldn't hear anything anymore.

After a moment, the doors opened back up.

"We are stealing you because you know who we are," Tom said, jabbing his finger at Rob, "not because we want you."

Rob grinned. "Fine with me."

Tom and Harry piled back into the van. "I see you've got a bag with you," Harry said as he buckled his seat belt, "did you need anything else from your house?"

"I have all my stuff," Rob said.

"Do you have your birth certificate?" Tom asked seriously. "That's an important one. We know from experience."

"More importantly," Harry said loudly, "is there anyone you want to say goodbye to?"

"No," Rob said. "I mean, no, I don't need to say goodbye to anyone. And I don't have my birth certificate, but I have my school ID."

"Useless," Tom said briskly. "We'll be enrolling you in a better school for September."

Rob liked hearing that. "Okay." He lounged back on the seat for a moment as the van swerved onto the main street and was welcomed by lots of honking. "So do you even have any candy? Isn't that part of the deal?"

"I have some chocolate—"

"We're already stealing you," Tom interrupted. "Don't push your luck, child."

"Wait, we don't even know your name," Harry said, appalled. "Are you a boy? What's your name?"

"I am a boy," Rob answered, confused. "My name is Rob."

"Well, rats. We've never had one with a name before." Harry nudged Tom's shoulder. "What should we do? His name's already Rob!"

Tom frowned. The three of them sat in silence as the van came to a stop at a red light. Rob fiddled with the strap of his bag and wondered what kind of house supervillains lived in.

Then the light changed back to green and Tom said in a voice full of confidence, "We'll do what we do best. We'll go rob a bank."

A/N:

i might draw what the children look like so you all have the visual so stay tuned... the next chapter will not be a new child because i decided it'll be nice to have a chapter dedicated to the current family dynamic before we move onto darling little double homicide.

in the meantime, a bit of info about rob, who is the favoured child in the sense that i favour him 3 rob has got a bit of both tom and harry's personalities. i imagine him like a younger tom but with harry's sense of humour and mischief. his original goal in this chapter was to become an evil minion, but what he got was much better, obviously.

he will remain the eldest child even after tom and harry adopt/steal more kids, and he ends up being kind of like a third parent in this way because he's the only one with any damn common sense. his age also means he's the most well-adjusted, sane child in the house, which isn't to say he isn't secretly chaotic but he does a better job at hiding it lol