They were alone. Their companions had gone out in search of food for the evening, leaving them to talk but she hadn't said so much as a word since she'd been brought home. He knew there was more behind her silence. When he looked deep into her eyes it was if he could see the cogs within her brain ticking away in formulation of something. Something he knew couldn't be good.

Robbie shifted himself on the sofa and brought a hand to Robyn's cheek, turning her head so she was looking at him. "What are you thinking about? What's going on in there?"

"I have to help him escape. I can't let them take him."

If he had the power to rewind time or make the ground swallow him up he would have picked that very moment to get it to do so. He stood up and turned away from her. What had she just said? He was sure he must have imagined what she said, that it was just a trick of his ears. He'd heard her completely wrong and if he asked her to repeat herself it would come out as something totally different. She wouldn't mention even the least conventional notion of helping her murderous brother escape. A brother they now understood to have followed her all the while she was in Toronto and witnessed without remorse the evil she had had inflicted upon her.

Those that had been in the room when Morgan had launched his verbal attack on Robyn had relayed back to their leader what had been said. In turn Boris had come to speak to her about it but he had been greeted with the same unbroken silent state she had remained in until she'd broken that silence just now. Unable to reason with Robyn, Boris had told them what he knew.

Robbie turned back to look at Robyn, her eyes sliding upwards to meet his when she saw his movement in her peripheral vision. She was asking him the impossible, she wanted to do the impossible and she wanted his help. Before, after and since his death he had never denied her anything but he couldn't give her this.

He couldn't.

Needing to escape the longing in her eyes he walked away, going upstairs and sitting on the bed in the spare room. It was a bed he had slept in, in a room that had always ultimately been his. A room that he knew contained a chest filled with reminders of his past beneath the bed. He tried to turn his thoughts away from the direction they were taking but part of his old nature had never truly died. He recounted the words he had said on more than one occasion when he had lived beneath the ground in his lair, in the years before the small baby was dumped on his doorstep, when he'd been a villain.

'It feels so good to be bad.'

If he helped Robyn was he being bad? Wasn't he ultimately saving a life? But at what cost?

Sighing deeply he eased himself onto the floor in a kneeling position, reaching his hand out under the bed for the chest. His searching fingers found its handle and he pulled it, sliding the chest towards him and over the fingers of his hand on the carpet.

"Ouch!" He cried, taking his hand out from under the chest and shaking it in hopes it would dull the throbbing in his fingers. Even though he was alone in the room he looked around him and straightened his waistcoat, "I meant to do that."

When he felt he could move his fingers without pain again he gingerly pulled the chest the remainder of the way out from under the bed. It was covered in dust and he blew it off before sneezing violently. In the back of his mind he knew these things had to be a sign that he was doing the wrong thing, that he shouldn't be doing this at all. Temptation drew him on as he lifted the lid of the chest and looked inside.

So many memories. So many evil deeds born from a desire to remove from town the one who had become one of his closest friends. Each item was a tool he had used to help achieve that plan. Each one had failed miserably. He'd always thought he'd been good at being bad but when he looked at things now he realised he was better at being good.

'So why am I looking at this stuff now?' He thought to himself.

He went to close the lid but something caught his eye. It was his most recently used invention. One he had used for the purpose of good, switching its original purpose from that of evil. He reached into the box for it and lifted it out. If he was going to help Robyn it was one of the best things he could give her.

Left alone with her thoughts she sat with her head rested on the back of the orange fuzzy chair. With its recliner function it was the most comfortable chair in the house and rarely unoccupied. It also offered a direct view of the stairs and anyone going up or down them. It was one such benefit she took advantage of when the stairs creaked as her 'daddy' descended them. As their eyes met she could see him fighting a private battle with himself, a side she had only learned of since his resurrection coming to the fore.

He came to a stop in front of her, sighing heavily. "If you're going to help Morgan you're going to have to get past those guards of his. This should do the trick."

Robyn took the purple ball he held out to her. A faint memory drew itself to her as she brushed its rubber surface. As soon as she took it from his hand he turned away from her.

As he walked back up the stairs she heard him say, "I had tunnels all over Lazytown. Some of them should still be useable. One even goes as far as Crazytown, it can be got to via another tunnel the entrance of which is beneath the mail box near the Mayor's house."

She hugged the purple ball close to her as she tried to work out what to do.