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Chapter 14

Nick and Ilsa were sitting next to him. He tried to forget about what Robin had left to do. He wanted to be with her.

"Have you seen it yet?" Nick was looking at his neck.

"No."

"Want to?"

"Nick! Leave him alone."

"Yeah..." he wanted as much information as possible, taking the round, handheld mirror Nick gave him.

Raising it, he looked at himself. His eyes and mouth were dark, rest of his skin pale, almost translucent. But his eyes were drawn to his neck. The blackened skin circled his throat, still concaved inwards so that his windpipe jutted out. He now understood why the intubation was necessary, and why they worried his windpipe wouldn't be strong enough without it.

"Fuck."

"That is a fair description," Nick took the mirror back, "How's Robin?"

"She seems ok, she was here this morning, coming back later. Doctor says I might get out in a few days."

"Well, when you do, call us and we'll pick you up."

"I can't disrupt your life like..."

"We want to help you."

"This... this isn't a short-term thing. Wheelchair for at least three weeks, maybe longer..."

"We want to help," Ilsa took his hand, looking him in the eye. "Let us..." The arrival of Robin and Linda stopped this line of thought, "Robin!" Ilsa jumped up, covering the floor in two strides and almost threw herself on her friend. Linda stepped back in alarm.

"Ilsa!" Although it was loud, the name was muffled in Ilsa's hair. She pulled back, tears on her cheeks as she looked at the bruising on Robin's face.

"I'm so glad to see you!"

"You too, I would've rung but..."

"No, no. You had bigger fish to fry. I'm just so glad you're ok." She glanced back at Linda.

"Oh, this is my mother, Linda. Mum, this is Ilsa and Nick... Cormoron's friends I stayed with before I moved in with Max." She watched as Linda put her hand out, Ilsa ignoring it and hugging her. Nick finally stood up, winking at Robin.

"I'm so glad you're ok Robin, we were so worried."

"I'm fine Nick, thanks. And thank you for what you did for Barclay..."

"It was a pleasure..." Ilsa was looking at her again, beaming.

"Send me the invoice for..."

"Like hell I will Corm."

"You need paid and I'm not leaving it for Barcl-"

"Funny that, he said the same thing about you. But no, it's ok. Really. Hardly did anything anyway... once I saw the state of him..."

"How bad was it... really?" Robin was worried about the answer.

"It was bad, awful in fact. Never should've happened. But they bit off more than they could chew really..."

"What d'you-"

"Sam fought back," Nick was putting his coat on, "he gave them hell, especially since it was three on one. Broke one guys arm, another's leg... punctured a lung." Strike was smiling as he heard it. "Anyway, we'll be going. Tell us when you want us to pick you up..."

"Not happening."

"Oh yes," Ilsa looked cross, "because look at the que of people lining up to take you to recuperate at their house." She smiled as she ended the sentence, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. "Call us." She hugged Robin again as they left.

"You're staying with them?"

"No."

"You can stay with me, Max won't mind."

"Doctor says," his eyes looked at Linda before he could pull them back to Robin, "wheelchair... won't get up the stairs."

"But I can..."

"Carry me?" He smirked, earning a smile back, even a smile from Linda.

"No. Help."

"No, it's fine. Really. I'll find somewhere. Besides..." he looked at Linda again, but Robin anticipated what he was going to say.

"I'm not going back home. I'm not leaving you, not like this. Not when you're alone."

"It's fine."

"No, it isn't. I'm staying in London."

"Robin..."

"Mum... I told you no." The silence was loud as no one looked at each other.

"Did you get it?"

"Yes, dropped it off at the station, Wardle's already started the paperwork. And here's your phone." Strike took it without taking his eyes off her.

"And did you..."

"Yeah, we found them. I'm so sorry."

"What they fuck you saying that for?" Linda was surprised at the angry tone of his voice.

"They asked what my job was... I didn't want to bring you into it but..." she looked down, hair falling over her heavily bruised face. Linda saw anger flash across his face again as he spoke.

"They hurt you because you wouldn't tell them?"

"It's not your fault. I told them about you and the office... that's why..."

"It's ok. Better that than they hurt you."

"It's not... you were given those pictures. My underwear." She started to cry, felt his hand on her face, but wasn't scared.

"Look at me..." she raised her head, looking him in the eyes, "Did they do anything to you? You can tell me... you know you can." Linda watched the tender exchange, feeling the trust between them.

"No," she shook her head, her mouth curving into a small smile, "Nothing. I promise."

"Good."

oOo

She woke gasping for breath, hands on her neck. Each night she slept, it was always the same thing that woke her. Seeing Strike with the noose around his neck. She knew what it was like to feel that tight pressure, blocking oxygen, feeling your brain die as you fought to stop it. She needed to see him. That's what she thought each time she woke.

The light was coming through her curtains, it was morning. As she made her way to the door, she heard murmured voices. She realised, she didn't want to talk to them.

oOo

"When will I get out?"

"The way you're improving, day after tomorrow." The doctor didn't look up as he spoke. "Do you have a place to go..."

"I'll be fine." At this the doctor looked at him.

"You'll need help."

"I'll be..."

"No, you won't be able to walk. You'll need help. I can't release you until you have somewhere to go."

oOo

Linda wouldn't let her out her sight. Yet again, she was with her at the hospital. Robin wanted to see Strike by herself. But that wasn't going to happen.

"Hey. How are you?" His voice was stronger and he looked more alert.

"I'm ok. You?"

"Yeah, good. Doctor says I could get out the day after tomorrow." At this she smiled.

"That's amazing... why aren't you smiling?"

"I want to say something." Linda had taken a breath, ready to make her announcement. Robin and Strike turned to look at her. "Michael and I were up talking last night, and we've decided we would like you to come home with us to recuperate..."

"Mum, I told you no..."

"Both of you." Silence.

"What? Why?" Strike looked reserved and curious at the same time.

"You'll need to be in a place where people are there to help you. We can do that. Like Ilsa said, there's no one else here. You saved our daughter's life, we want to help you."

"Mum..."

"No. Thank you, but I don't think..." he looked at Robin, her pale skin and dark eyes. But he knew she wasn't going to leave him there. He didn't want to go, be stuck in a house with people he didn't know and who didn't like him. But Robin needed him to. He looked back at Linda, "Are you sure? You know I won't be able to..."

"We're sure. You need help, and we can help you. Both of you."

"You don't have to do it," Robin had grasped his hand, "You don't have to do this, not for me. Not after what they said about you."

"Robin that was before." Linda was staring at her.

"You compared him to my rapist," the words were out before she noticed, as she looked at Linda with venom in her face.

"Robin," Strike had squeezed her hand, pulling her attention to his face, "It's ok. If they're sure, I'll come. We'll go together."

"But..."

"It's not forever. Trust me. It's not like before. We'll be back in the office in no time. I promise." She smiled, he had voiced what she was scared of. She looked back at Linda.

"Ok. Ok, we'll come home."