He almost couldn't believe what his eyes were telling him. It didn't seem right that it would be there, he couldn't accept what its presence meant. A sickening, sinking feeling formed in the pit of stomach that made it feel almost as if it had been tied in a knot. It was a knot so tight he'd almost lost the ability to breathe, it couldn't be true, it just couldn't be true. His eyes were telling him what it was, that it was there but in his mind he just couldn't accept it but yet he couldn't ignore it. It was there staring him in the face, an angry scar that stretched all the way across his granddaughter's right wrist, a testament that something had happened to her recently that he hoped she hadn't inflicted upon herself even though he couldn't be sure of that fact. Looking into her eyes he hoped that she could at least tell him that she hadn't done it to herself.

"What is this?" Nine asked his brow furrowing deeply in a frown of anger tinged worry.

Robyn tried to pull her hand away, "It's nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing."

Nine pulled Robyn's hand closer to him and turned it over fully with such force and speed that it startled her. She let out a small cry as he touched the painful wound, it made him let go of her hand as if it were red hot. Slowly she tried to draw her hand away but she could tell he wasn't yet through, his fingers interlaced with hers and she could feel his ice blue eyes willing her to look at him. Their pull was powerful but she resisted, he would make her go over it, make her tell him what had happened and she couldn't do it.

She couldn't face the pain of having to go over everything that had happened to her in Toronto. It was bad enough that when the police had come to see Kit they had asked that at some point during the week she see them at the local police station to debrief them on what had happened so that they could close their books on her case, they had spent a long time looking for her and wanted to know why she had run away.

It wasn't something she wasn't looking forward to.

Even though her eyes were lowered almost to the point of being shut she could see him raise a hand towards her face. His touch on her cheek was painfully gentle, like a whisper against her ear, but yet she flinched. It was something he didn't miss and she could feel him hook a thumb over her hair and pull it back from her face, another scar was revealed, another scar from the same person that would never heal. Like the scars within her it was just too deep.

Shaking off his surprise, Nine tried to fend off his growing anger, "I think you need to tell me the truth. Where did you get these scars?"

It was a question, a simple question but she couldn't answer it. Answering it would be making her do what she didn't want to. It would make her tell him everything, if she told him she would have to tell Sportacus. If she told Sportacus he would blame himself, she'd seen how fragile he was when she'd gone to visit him, she couldn't kick him while he was down, she just couldn't.

"Robyn, tell me what happened." Nine commanded again, his tone of voice told her that he wouldn't put up with her silence much longer.

The sound of footsteps outside his door woke him up. There was someone outside of his room. It seemed as if they were almost on the point of coming in but were hesitating for a reason unknown to him. He was almost tempted to call out, to tell them either to go away or come in but he was worried that he would disturb people that were trying to sleep or alert a nurse's attention to him. He didn't really like the idea of being given another pain killer via an injection in his stomach, as long as they thought he was asleep he would be spared the discomfort of it until morning. The only thing bothering him about it was that he wasn't asleep.

Someone had placed their hand on the door handle of his room. They pushed it down and he waited for them to open the door but nothing happened. It was as if they had frozen, debating whether or not to push through and run the risk of disturbing him or if they really wanted to enter his room. As if in answer to his theory the hand released the handle allowing it to return to its normal position. Listening carefully he could hear the footsteps recede, it wasn't long before he heard the person turn back and stop outside his door again. Once again the door handle was pushed down. This time the person on the other side pushed it slowly open. Even when the door was half open he couldn't see who his visitor was and had no idea of who would be coming to see him at that hour of the night.

He knew it wasn't Lily come back for another try, if it had been her he would have dead by now. She wouldn't have hesitated outside, she wouldn't have changed her mind about opening the door, she wouldn't have walked away only to come back again and she certainly wouldn't be making a meal of coming into the room. She would have been in by now and exacting her evil revenge for knocking her down, he was just glad that Robyn wasn't in the room with him.

Eventually the person pushing the door showed themselves. It wasn't Lily at all. In fact, it was her brother.

She didn't know how much time had passed. It might have been seconds, minutes or even hours, she had no idea. The only thing she was aware of was her grandfather's gaze burning into her from his position at the other side of the table. His hand was still at her cheek, it wouldn't be long before it was at her chin, tilting her head up so that she had no choice but to look at him. Looking at him would only be the next step to telling him what had happened. The moment she looked him in the face she would have to tell him the truth, his eyes would soften as she related where she had gotten the scars from. His hands would fix themselves together, trembling with emotions he couldn't release. Years of conditioning himself against emotional weakness would have done that. One day she'd tell him that that in itself was a form of weakness, that he was just hiding from those feelings rather than accepting them.

The rasp of his hand against her cheek brought back painful memories as he lowered it to her chin. It rested there, a hand hardened by many years of hard labour, a hand that had saved many lives and that had raised two children. It was a hand that wouldn't leave until it had answers. It sought those answers by tilting her head upwards. As soon as her eyes made contact with his she knew that he had won, there was nothing more that she could do but tell him everything. The only thing she couldn't tell him was who had attacked her. That would bring up far more questions than she could ever answer.

"I was attacked." Robyn said finally, her whole body was trembling under the emotional strain of reliving that awful nightmare as she spoke. "I was alone, someone was following me. I don't know why I did it but I wanted to know who they were and turned off down an alleyway. Maybe I hoped that they wouldn't follow me there but they did. I was cornered. One minute I see him pulling a scalpel from his pocket and the next he slashed my face. I tried to run but he grabbed my arm, that's when he cut my wrist. The next thing I remember after that is waking up in the hospital. They didn't find the man that did it, he found me again."

"What did he do?" Nine asked.

He hoped that she wouldn't tell him what he thought she would.

"He…he kidnapped me. I was tied up, I couldn't move. It was dark, he was there. He was there all the time and he…" Robyn couldn't finish, it was just too painful.

Nine nodded, his worst fears confirmed. His eyes had softened with unshed tears that he refused to cry. To cry so openly in a public place was weak, he wouldn't do it. When he had overcome the threat his next words might rock his emotions he looked up at Robyn.

"I take it Sportacus knows all of this?"

Robyn shook her head.

Nine's brow furrowed once more. This wasn't the answer he'd been expecting. Making a solid decision he got up from his chair, something had to be done about his son's ignorance in the matter. Walking around the table he pulled out his granddaughter's chair, she was about to stand when he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up. It was obvious to her what he was intending to do and she struggled but he carried her out of the cafeteria regardless much to the bemusement of those in the room that cared to observe the scene.

One of which people followed them out. He wanted an explanation.