A/N: Hello all! This is a crossover fic of Lana Parrilla's new show Why Women Kill combined with her old love interest from Once Upon a Time. Hope you love it!
Day 4, August 5th, Prompt 155: Why Women Kill/OUAT Crossover
Robin Locksley liked to believe he was a man rooted firmly in reality and in science. He was not one to get swept up in silly notions or fall head over heels for the first girl he saw. No. He was a traveling doctor, who spent his life going to various parts of the country to help and heal those in need of specialized medical care who could not access it for themselves. He had no time for love.
Then December 3rd, 1949 happened.
Robin was supposed to be on an earlier train to his next destination. He had spent the last two weeks in Los Angeles working in a research lab to determine the effectiveness of new antibiotics. Normally, he would not stay in such a large city with an abundance of medical resources, but the idea of a drug like penicillin preventing illnesses and diseases enthralled him. He wanted to see it for himself, so he stayed to work in the research lab with other doctors and scientists who invited him there to see their findings. He vowed to learn as much as possible, wanting to use that knowledge to better serve his patients in rural areas. Were there other antibiotics that would produce the same result as penicillin, if not better?
He was so invested in the answer that he lost track of time. By the time he glanced at the clock, his train had long since departed the station and the sky had grown dark. The research lab was closing, and the janitor was giving him the stink eye. He was ready to clean the space Robin occupied and head home to his family. Mouthing an apology, Robin grabbed his briefcase, deciding to return to his hotel for the night. He would leave tomorrow instead.
The research lab was located only a block from the Chez Magnifique. When Robin stepped off the front steps of the lab, he noticed the large crowd circling the establishment. Cars were stopping everywhere to drop passengers off, and everyone was dressed to the nines. It reminded him of parties in the 1920's before the depression and war. Back when everyone was happy, carefree, and hopeful for the future.
He didn't want to trek through the crowd and traffic in his ordinary street clothes. He was certain that his coffee stained lab coat and wrinkled pants would earn him stares from the attendees, so he circled around the building to the backside. He headed down the alley with his head bent, running through his to-do list mentally for the next day.
If it hadn't been for her blood, he would've missed her.
Robin recognized the seeping red liquid immediately. He jerked his head up when he stepped in it, shocked to see a woman badly injured in the alleyway with blood surrounding her. His medical instincts kicked in, and he raced to where she was to assess the situation. She had two deep stab wounds, one on her back and another on her front. She was bleeding profusely, but the location didn't appear to be near a vital organ. With proper medical attention and care, the woman could likely pull through. She was scarcely breathing, barely alive at this point from the blood loss, and she was turning cold.
"Help me," the woman said, her cracked lips barely moving to allow the words to escape. "Alma …"
"Shh," he said. "Save your strength. I'm a doctor, and I'm here to help. I need to stop the bleeding, so I'm going to apply pressure first to see if I can stop it."
Robin quickly opened his briefcase, grateful for the medical equipment he carted around with him. He grabbed the necessary supplies, speaking calmly and explaining what he would do next.
"I need you to stay calm," Robin said. "You've lost a lot of blood, and staying calm and as still as possible will prevent it from getting any worse." He put pressure on her back wound, which appeared to be losing blood much quicker than her front. He needed to get her blood to clot. "Tell me your name."
"Rita," she said, her voice sounding like a wheeze.
"I'm Robin Locksley," he said, continuing to apply pressure. The blood loss slowed a bit, which told him that the stab wound thankfully did not puncture an artery. A tourniquet would not be needed. He kept his pressure steady, and when the blood loss slowed more, he began bandaging the wound. It would likely take multiple dressings.
The door behind them banged open, causing Robin to jump and startle. Rita whimpered in fear, starting to squirm in an attempt to get away. "Hold still," Robin said soothingly. "It's alright. No one will hurt you." He turned to see the man who had raced outside with a gaggle of partygoers at his feet.
"She's alive!" the man yelled. "The dead woman is alive!"
Robin finished bandaging the wound. "She's never been dead," he said. "She's just lost a lot of blood and needs further medical attention. Can someone call for an ambulance?"
"I already did," replied a blonde woman who stepped forward in the crowd. "They should be here any minute." She crouched beside Rita, obviously already acquainted and familiar with the woman in distress. "Rita? It's Grace. It's going to be okay. This nice man is taking really good care of you."
Rita tried to wheeze out another response, her voice raspy. "Alma …"
"We know," Grace said, reaching out to push a strand of bloody hair off of Rita's forehead. "She was covered in your blood. She tried to give her acceptance speech, and the blood was just dripping off her. We called for the police, but she took off."
Rita looked alarmed at that, which Grace quickly reassured: "Don't worry. She's far away from here. She knows her facade is over, and that the town is on to her. She will be behind bars soon where she belongs."
The blaring sound of the ambulance sounded then, turning into the alleyway where they all gathered. The crowd parted, making room for the emergency vehicle and the paramedics who hopped out to assess.
"What happened here?" one of the men asked, looking to Robin for an explanation when they noticed his lab coat with his name embroidered on the front.
"She was found in the alley with two stab wounds," he reported. "Both are deep, and I was able to stop the one on her back with two dressings. No vital organs or arteries appear to be punctured. I'm not sure what weapon was used, but it is a small, straight wound so I would suggest that type of object." Robin paused a second before continuing. "Her front wound appears to have stopped bleeding as badly with the back controlled. She was going into a bit of shock, and I didn't want to move her by myself."
The paramedics squatted on either side of Rita, assessing the dressing that Robin had made. They rolled her to her front slowly to peer at the stab wound. It was not as deep as the back, and being facedown had applied some of the necessary pressure to slow the blood flow. Rita had squeezed her eyes shut, and Robin could tell the movement was painful for her though she tried to hide it.
"We'll bandage this one on the ride," the man said. "Miss, we're going to take you to the hospital to be examined. You've had quite the ordeal, and we want to ensure you heal properly and get you seen by a medical professional. Alright?'
Rita nodded feebly.
"Would anyone like to ride along?" the paramedic asked the crowd. Robin was surprised when no one offered, not even the blonde woman who appeared so concerned over Rita's welfare at first. He noticed another woman tugging on her dress sleeve, pulling her away from the scene.
"I will," Robin said, feeling an undeniable pull to the woman. He couldn't understand how no one wanted to go with her after she had been stabbed and nearly lost her life. Then at the surprised expressions of the medical personnel: "I want to make sure she's alright."
"Okay," the paramedic said. "Hop in with me, Dr. Locksley."
If Rita hadn't been in so much pain, she would have killed Scooter Polarski.
Her mind had been slow and muddled with the blood loss. Now that her wound was taken care of, though, her thoughts were making more sense and her awareness of her surroundings was returning.
She spotted Scooter when the paramedics were preparing to load her in the ambulance. They were assessing her stomach wound, explaining that she needed to go to the hospital and receive further treatment. Rita was only half listening though. She was fixated on Scooter and his female friend. He was leaning against the brick wall of the restaurant, chatting with a young blonde girl in a dress Rita herself could have worn a month or so ago. Apparently, the boy she loved was so distracted by another woman that he didn't realize Rita almost died in the alleyway.
The only thing on his mind was sex.
She closed her eyes, taking a breath to calm herself. It felt as though her blood ran cold at the pain of him still running after other women. It seemed that Dee Filcot wasn't her only competition for Scooter's heart, though she wasn't sure if she wanted it anymore. Did she really love him, or did she love the idea of the man she thought he could be?
She was done. Rita had promised herself long ago that she would never allow a man to make her feel a certain way or forget who she was. She was not one to sit and wallow in her pain. Which meant it was time for Rita to accept that she was alone in the world again. She had no one this time, not even her beloved cousin Isabel.
The doors shut behind them on the ambulance. Now with Scooter out of her sight, she refocused on the man who insisted on accompanying her to the hospital. His bright blue eyes continued to watch her with warmth and concern, an expression Rita was not used to seeing directed at her.
She had to admit he was attractive. His light brown hair looked as though he spent his day running his fingers through it, deep in thought. His lab coat fell just above his knees, and he looked like the kind of doctor anyone could trust to do their very best to save them.
She wondered why he would want to help someone like her. It wasn't as though she was a saint. She was Rita Castillo, a woman that most would be angry she survived in the first place.
The next hour was a whirlwind. They put Rita in triage, with a number of nurses and doctors coming by to ask questions. After a certain amount of time, the bandages were removed to examine the wounds, and then she was re-bandaged and placed in a room. She was able to communicate normally now with the blood flow controlled and wounds properly managed, and she was turning into quite the snarky woman without a fear of death plaguing her.
Robin couldn't help but stare at her. Now that they were out of the darkened alley, he noticed how beautiful she was. Rita wore no makeup and her ruined dress was a plain brown, but she was still one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. It was truly something to still be that attractive and interesting, even when your hair was matted with blood. There was just something about her that caught his attention, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't look away.
A doctor came in to speak with them. "You're a lucky lady, Mrs. Castillo," the doctor said. "The wounds should be able to heal on their own. We applied a sab to them before re-bandaging, and neither appear to have hit anything vital. You should be good to go home in the morning. We'll give you something to alleviate pain in the meantime, and I'll just ask that you avoid any strenuous activity in the coming weeks to allow time for healing." He noticed her dress. "We'll also dispose of that and bring you a medical gown," he said. "I'll send a nurse momentarily."
"Thank you, doctor," Rita replied as the man left the room with his clipboard.
Robin's mind froze on the doctor's use of the word mrs. He couldn't believe he had sat with a married woman for over an hour when her husband was likely worried sick for her. Her hands were bare of any jewelry, so he made an assumption he shouldn't have. "I apologize," Robin said once the doctor was out of earshot. "I should have asked if you wanted me to call anyone for you. Should I phone your husband now?"
She turned to Robin, surprised he still remained at her bedside. When she realized he was serious, she laughed without humor. "I take it you don't realize who I am."
He stared at her, puzzled by her bluntness. Rita clicked her tongue, continuing to chuckle. "I'm the Rita Castillo," she said. "I was recently thrown into jail for killing my husband by poisoning him. I didn't do it, of course, which is how I'm sitting here talking to you." She leaned in close to him, wincing a little at the movement. She might as well tell him everything, especially since he saved her and already saw her at the brink of death. "I just got out of prison actually," she said. "I was framed by the woman who stabbed me. Alma Filcot."
Robin raised his eyebrows, not quite sure if she was being serious or not. He did seem to remember a woman of her description being on the front page of a newspaper recently, but the memory was vague. He wasn't sure if he even read the article. His research at the lab had consumed him.
"Alma not only killed my husband, but my cousin too," Rita continued. "She made it look like a suicide. That's what we were fighting about in the alleyway when she stabbed me. The fucking psychopath." Rita stopped to smile at him mischievously. "Now with that out of the way, are you ready to run for the hills? I would prefer you do that now instead of later."
Robin blinked several times before responding. Once, twice, three times. "Excuse my language," he said. "But holy shit."
This time Rita truly cackled, leaning back in the hospital bed. "I bet you wish you had left me in that alley now," she said. "Everyone else did. They knew who it was they'd be saving."
"Every life is worth saving."
"Try telling that to this town," she said, looking away. Emotion flashed in her eyes, but she regained control quickly. Rita kept her face neutral when she continued: "They all hate me because my stepdaughter told them what I used to do for a living. That I sold my body."
"Why would she do that?"
"I don't know," Rita said, rolling her eyes. "What irks me the most is that everyone is so quick to blame me, to shame me for my choices. But no one has once asked why Carlo was in that whore house in El Paso to begin with."
Robin looked at her disbelievingly. "Your past choices do not dictate who you are forever," he said. "One mistake doesn't mean you need to suffer or die. You grow older, wiser, and you gain needed experience to make better decisions. " He rolled his eyes a little. "And they say California is open minded."
"You're not from here?"
He shook his head. "I come from all over," he said. "I'm a traveling doctor. I came to Los Angeles to work in a research lab for a few weeks. I was going to head out to my next destination this evening, but I'll likely go tomorrow. I missed my train this evening because I stayed late at the lab."
"You don't have to stay here, you know," Rita said. "I'm perfectly able to take care of myself. I've done it many times before. You can go back to where you're staying and rest before your train leaves."
"I know," he said. "I just felt obligated as a doctor to assure you were in the best care and attended to." He paused a second to remove his hat. "Besides, I already gave my hotel room up this morning, so it's not like I have anywhere to be or somewhere to go. I should be on a train to New York right now."
That caught Rita's attention. "Really?" she asked. "So was I. I had purchased tickets to travel and everything"
Robin smiled at that coincidence. "Looks like our paths were meant to cross."
"Maybe so," Rita agreed, her lips twitching into a small smile.
