Timeframe: Alabasta through Enies Lobby
Warning: Possible trigger regarding to suicide. You have been warned
Rating: T

AN: Credit where credit is due. I kinda sorta of got this idea from Colors and an Attempt by Nekoi Kurona. It's an interesting little one shot about Ace worth checking out

Brown, the color of endless sand

Much to Robin's surprise, being one of the leaders of a coup wasn't nearly as exciting as it sounded. Her typical day usually consisted of paperwork, assigning missions based on that paperwork, and more paperwork based on the outcome of those missions. As one of Baroque Work's leading operatives and a keystone in Crocodile's plan, anything that might result in her capture was deemed too risky to be personally involved in.

Robin looked out of one of the casino windows and sighed. It almost seemed sacrilegious to think about it, but she was bored. In the beginning there had been a certain thrill to all the secrets and shadow games, but right now she would rather be out on the sea.

The wind swirled, kicking some sand into a small tornado. Robin allowed herself to be mesmerized for a moment. It reminded her of her current situation, a never-ending spiral of plans, counterplans, and deception.

There was a soft knock on her door, and an agent entered with a sealed missive. Robin opened the letter, mentally translating the cypher. Her eyes widened in surprise. The princess whom she had been observing had made her move and was planning on returning to Alabasta as soon as possible. If someone was sent immediately, it was still possible to intercept her at Whiskey Peak.

This was the sort of mission reserved for the One pair. They were professional assassins, after all. But Robin was bored, and wasn't completely sure whether she wanted the princess dead or not. Despite the tedium of her day to day affairs, she was playing a game of fourway chess with Crocodile, the marines, and the Alabastian government.

It was time to shake up the status quo.

Robin was almost done packing when the snail phone rang. She picked it up, and without waiting to exchange pleasantries, a low, dry voice asked, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Your identity has been compromised," Robin answered. "I'm the only one who can stop the leak before it spreads."

There was a pause. "Take care of it." Before she could answer, the line went dead.

Robin grimaced and resumed her packing. "Don't worry. I will."

Red, the color of spilled blood

To most it seemed that Robin had ice running through her veins. Nothing upset her, not bad news, failures on the mission field, or even the idea of killing millions of innocent people. Even those who did not know her true name thought there was something unnatural about her cool, professional temperament.

This, of course, was utterly ridiculous. Robin had emotions just like everyone else. She merely learned to keep them well-hidden as a method of survival. Unless one knew what buttons to press, Robin was not going to allow her circumstances to affect her judgment.

On the day of Alabasta's war, every single one of her buttons was pushed.

It started with the straw-hatted fool and his prattle of dreams. It exposed a nerve Robin thought she had long-since buried. But his words were not directed at her, and Robin could ignore the discomfort brought on by the boy's similarity to Saul.

That exposed nerve was hit full-force when Crocodile called her by her full name. The wound was further exacerbated by the ignorant marine girl who tried to keep Robin from her goal. The past she had hidden from for the past four years was finally coming back to haunt her.

Robin didn't care. She would kill them all if she had to.

But it was all for nothing. The only thing Alabasta's poneglyph told was how to revive the Ancient Weapon.

In a way, Robin didn't mind when Crocodile stabbed her. Despite the needless destruction of historical artifacts she wasn't upset when the king activated the ancient booby trap. Her lifeblood was slowly leaking out of the wound in her chest, but Robin couldn't bring herself to feel anything at all.

The righteous fury at the World Government was gone. She couldn't even be sad that Ohara's secrets would never be found out. She had risked everything…and lost. There was no shame in that.

It was fitting in a way. Robin had survived one massacre largely by accident, of course she would die in another when it seemed she was in complete control.

Robin closed her eyes and welcomed the darkness. After twenty years her luck was up, and she welcomed the end.

Gold, the color of the new dawn

The Straw Hats proved themselves to be an amusing distraction. After years of scheming and espionage their utter lack of guile was refreshing, while their utter lack of self-preservation made them interesting.

Robin's dream was still dead. There were simply no more leads, and she didn't have the resources to dig up anything new. Someday the Straw Hats' luck would catch up with them, and they would bite off more than they could chew. With nowhere else to run to, Robin decided she would see this voyage through. There was worse company to die in.

She thought for sure the Knock-Up Stream would do it, but against all odds (the phrase seemed to be something of a recurring theme with this crew) they survived. Robin found herself intrigued despite herself. No one that she knew of—not the professor, not her mother, no one—had been to the White Sea. For the first time in her life, Robin strayed from the path set before her into unknown territory.

And then she found it.

The Shandorian's golden belfry led her to Roger's message. The dream that had been dead roared back to life, and suddenly Robin had a reason to wake up in the morning.

It was all because of the Straw Hat pirates, who not only suffered her presence for the information she held, but protected her life because she was one of theirs. For some baffling reason Robin couldn't comprehend, they liked her and wanted her to sail with them.

Sometime during that adventure, Robin couldn't pinpoint exactly when, she became one of the Straw Hat Pirates.

Grey, the color of the sky before a storm

Robin had thought of killing herself many times. The first had been when she was twelve years old, after being nearly beaten to death and abandoned at the side of the road. Her thoughts were often clouded by the macabre, but that time had been different. Robin had prayed for someone to find her and deliver the final blow.

The thought passed quickly, but it scared her to the core. After that when Robin hit a low point—of which there were many—the idea would always skirt around the edge of her consciousness.

You would be better off dead. Years later, it was a truth that wouldn't leave her. The Straw Hats had survived Aokiji's attack-again beating the odds-but this time it was different. Their brush with death was her fault.

She didn't deserve their loyalty. Robin didn't deserve anything except their hatred. That would come with time, it always did. And after allowing herself to get so close, after they had knocked down the iron wall surrounding her heart, Robin knew she couldn't bear that hatred. Their acceptance fulfilled a childlike desire for affection. It was like dumping a cup of water in the ground after a twenty year drought; her soul drank up everything they offered and yearned for more.

There was no more forthcoming. Not after what she planned to do tonight.

"Door-Door Fruit."

Robin stepped into the office of the Water 7's mayor. He was at his desk concentrating at his work and didn't even notice the intrusion. Robin pulled out a gun and cleared her throat.

The mayor's head snapped up, and Robin made sure he got a good look at her face before shooting him two times. The man slumped to his desk, uselessly trying to stem the bleeding.

"Wh-what…who?" A wet, gurgling sound escaped from his throat, and Robin hoped she hadn't hit anything vital.

In a flash her CP9 escort was behind the mayor. With motions almost too fast to follow, the massive man sunk his finger into his back three times. There was a strangled cry, and the mayor fell to the ground unconscious.

"That wasn't necessary," Robin said quietly, eyes fixed at the agent's hand. Blood and gore covered his pointer finger and dripped to the ground. "You might have killed him."

"I know what I'm doing. Now sound the alarm before he bleeds out."

Robin did as she was told, realizing the display of power was nothing more than an unspoken warning to her. Were she to try and break their deal and run she would receive the same fate as the unfortunate mayor.

The reminder was not needed. She would not run. With a heavy heart Robin stepped into the portal the Door-Man created and into the streets of Water 7. She looked up at the stormy skies and wished she could die.

Blue, the color of the sea which called her name

Robin did not cry, and if she did cry, she did not cry in public. Twenty years of fighting and scrapping for survival had taught her that much. Nothing ruined a reputation faster than smudged mascara, not that Robin would ever allow herself to be that vulnerable.

As Spandam dragged her down the Bridge of Hesitation Robin could not stop crying, and it irritated her to no end. There was no reason to cry. Robin knew with as much certainty as she had knew the Ancient Language that Luffy would succeed. After so long someone had come to her rescue.

Fairy tales told of knights in shining armor and charming princes, but all she had was the single most idiotic pirate captain on the Grand Line and his ragtag bunch of misfits. And, to be honest, Robin wouldn't have it any other way.

Black spots danced across Robin's vision from her captor's beatings. Between the physical assaults and the sea-stone cuffs, she was barely able to keep conscious. All the while Spanda (Robin found Franky's discourteous nickname to be wholly appropriate) kept on blathering on, blinded by delusions of grandeur.

"I won't go through those gates," Robin said, her voice harsh and raw. Spanda let the rope he was dragging her by go slack as he looked down at her. There was a crazed look in his eye, like a rabid dog.

"They said they would save me."

Spanda disagreed. Vehemently. Robin knew he would. But it didn't matter what the bastard thought, or how badly he beat her. All that mattered was that Robin took advantage of his goldfish-like attention span long enough for her friends (friends!) could make it in time.

And as Spanda dug into wounds twenty years in the making, the only thing Robin could do was cry.

But no matter how powerful their navy or terrifying their assassins, the World Government was helpless against the might of the Straw Hat Pirates. One moment Robin was being drug towards the gates, the next marines and government agents were forced back by an enemy they could barely see. Robin stood hesitantly, hardly believing the sight around her as more and more enemies fell to explosive rounds that could only belong to Long Nose.

This was her chance for freedom, and she needed no further prompting. Robin ducked her head and ran as fast as she could. And for the first time in her life, she was not ashamed to cry.