Chapter Warning: Child neglect, emotional abuse, and references to destruction of personal belongings.

Chapter 45: Bad Flashback and New Hope

Robyn POV

As we split up—Faye and Rose heading toward the non-fiction section while Emmett and I made our way to the comic books—I felt a spark of excitement. I noticed that the GameStop we went to didn't have many comics. I loved to read comics ever since I was a kid.

They had been my escape for as long as I could remember, the one thing that kept me company when my parents were away. They were also the easiest thing to hide from them. I still remember the first comic I ever got—one of my babysitters gave it to me just to get me out of their hair. But to me, it was everything. I had clutched it tightly, eager to show my parents, hoping they might share in my excitement.

Instead, they were furious.

They called it boyish and nerdy, saying I shouldn't waste my time on something so useless. When I refused to hand it over, my dad ripped it from my hands while my mom forcibly held me back, while the tears streamed down my face as I watched him throw it into the fireplace.

I could still feel the heat of the fire and the sting of the paper cut where he had torn it from my hands. The pages curled and blackened as the flames grew bigger, swallowing the comic whole. I sat there for hours, staring at the flames until they flickered out, leaving only ashes behind.

They called me dramatic and promised to buy me something useful—a math book, an etiquette guide, something that would make me more "proper" or help with the family business. They also fired the babysitter for giving it to me. After that, I stopped showing them things. I was too afraid they'd destroy something else.

In a way, I was almost grateful for the babysitters who barely paid attention to me. The ones who locked me outside or ignored me meant I could sneak off to the comic book store, using the cash I had carefully stashed away to buy stories I could keep—stories that, for a little while, made me feel like I wasn't so alone.

As we neared the comic section, I stole a glance at Emmett, only to find him practically radiating excitement. He walked with a lightness that made it seem like he was floating, his enthusiasm so pure it was almost infectious. When he caught me peeking, he met my eyes with a beaming smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief. My cheeks warmed in embarrassment when I realized I'd been caught staring.

I was happy—really happy—but also a little scared. The realization that I was bonded to him and Rosalie settled deep in my chest, a mix of warmth and uncertainty. They seemed like the perfect couple, the kind of parents anyone would be lucky to have. Warm and caring, always offering support, yet fiercely protective when it mattered. They knew when to be gentle and when to stand firm, never hesitating to push or be strict when it was needed. They weren't just dependable. They made you feel safe—even when you didn't realize you needed it.

And maybe that's why today felt so surreal. Because if things had gone the way they were supposed to—if Faye hadn't been there—I wouldn't even be here right now.

This was the day James would have kidnapped me. I would have been gone before anyone realized. But instead, Faye had stopped him before he even had a chance, and because of her, I was still here—standing in a comic book store, feeling safe for the first time in forever.

And yet, it terrified me.

They made me feel normal, like I was just a kid—a teenager. Like I belonged. Still, there were still things that made me worry. Was I supposed to call them Mom and Dad? Did they want me to? Did I? And then there was the biggest fears gnawing at me—the truth of my age and death. If I told them, would they look at me differently? Would there be disgust in their eyes? Would they still want me? What if they leave me?

I felt my eyes begin to sting, a lump forming in my throat at the thought. Before I could blink the tears away, a hand rested on my shoulder, making me flinch slightly.

I looked up to find Emmett watching me, worry etched into his face. His usual lightheartedness had faded, replaced by something softer, more serious. "What's wrong, little bird?" His voice was a mix of concern and confusion.

I quickly shook my head, wiping at my eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie before the tears could spill over. "It's nothing. I'm fine. Just got some dust in my eyes."

Emmett didn't look convinced. His expression turned thoughtful, a quiet sort of sternness settling over him. Before I could say anything else, he took my hand—his grip firm but gentle—and wordlessly led me toward a more secluded corner of the comic book section.

I glanced around, a little confused. "Emmett?"

He stopped, turning to face me fully. "Alright, kiddo," he said, crossing his arms as he studied me. "Let's try that again. No lying this time. What's really going on?"

See, this is what I meant.

My old parents never would have noticed—never would have cared. And if they did, it would have been nothing more than a dismissive, suck it up, or worse, complete indifference. But Rosalie and Emmett? They saw me. Even in the short time we'd been together, they noticed when something was wrong. They cared—really, truly cared.

But that only made the fear worse. What if I told them the truth and ruined everything, like my parents or babysitters always said I would?

I swallowed hard, looking away as I tried to steady my breathing. I hated this—being caught like this, being seen. Vulnerability never led to anything good. It only ever made things worse.

Emmett didn't rush me. He just stood there, arms crossed, waiting. The usual playful light in his eyes replaced by something gentler. Steadier. It didn't seem like he planned on letting this go anytime soon.

I let out a shaky breath, running my fingers through my now short hair, a bad habit I had when I was anxious or upset. "It's stupid," I muttered. "Not worth talking about."

Emmett's brow arched. "You seem like you're about to cry in the middle of the bookstore, I'd say it's worth talking about."

My eyes began to water slightly, my heart pounding in my ears. It wasn't fair how easily they could do this—break through my defenses like they were nothing. "I was just thinking," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "About… things."

He didn't push, just tilted his head slightly, waiting for me to give an answer.

I let out a shaky breath, searching for the right words—something that wouldn't make me sound like I was whining or, worse, like a disappointment. I also wasn't sure if I was ready to share one of my biggest fears. What if I made things worse? So, I decided to share what led to my eyes tearing up, hoping I had enough strength to not blurt out the full truth.

"I was thinking about my past parents," I admitted, my voice quiet. "About how much they hated my love for comics—or really, anything they didn't approve of, especially me." I hesitated, my fingers curling into my sleeves. "I remember the first comic I ever got. I was so excited to show them… but my dad ripped it out of my hands and threw it into the fireplace while my mom forcibly held me back as I cried and fought, trying to get it back."

Emmett's expression darkened, his jaw tightening, but he stayed quiet, letting me continue.

"Afterward, while I sat there staring at the ashes, they told me I was being dramatic," I said bitterly. "Then they promised to get me a real book. Something 'useful'—an etiquette guide, a math book. Something that wouldn't be a waste of my time."

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening. "That was the day I stopped showing them things. I just… stopped trying."

The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "What if I ruin everything, Em? What if I really am a waste of time, just like they said?"

I dropped my gaze to my shoes, my voice barely above a whisper. "What if I tell you the truth about myself, and you guys leave? What if I can't tell you, and you get tired of me—just like they did? Tired of waiting…." My breath hitched, my chest tightening painfully. "I don't think I can handle that."

A tear slipped down my cheek, then another. I barely even noticed until they hit the floor.

For a moment, Emmett didn't say anything, and I was too scared to look up and see his reaction. The silence hung between us, heavy but not uncomfortable. I braced myself for the words I'd been dreading—"You're too much," or "We were thinking of leaving," or worse, maybe he already left.

Instead, I felt strong arms wrap around me, pulling me into a comforting embrace. I inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of campfire making me relax deeper in his hold while my hands gripped the sides of his shirt.

"Little bird," he said, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it before. "I need you to listen to me, okay?"

I hesitated, my throat tight, but finally nodded in silent agreement.

"You are not a waste of time. You can never be too much," he said firmly, his hold tightening just a little, as though to make sure I could feel the truth in his words. "Not to me. Not to Rose. And definitely not to your sisters. The fact that your old parents made you feel that way—that's on them. They failed to be good parents. They failed to be good people. Not you."

I swallowed hard, resting my head against his shoulder, tears falling onto his shirt. "But I can't even tell you how old I was… or how I died. What if—"

Emmett didn't let me finish. He gently pulled back and tilted my chin up, ensuring I had no choice but to meet his eyes. "No more what-ifs, little bird. We're not going anywhere. You have as much time as you need to tell us about your past, and we'll be here, patiently waiting. It doesn't matter how old you were. Not to me, and definitely not to Rose. To us, you're just as much a baby as your sisters. You're stuck with us now—we just got you, and we're not going anywhere."

A shaky breath escaped me, something told me to believe him but I couldn't shake the feeling. "But… why?"

Emmett blinked. "Why what?"

"Why do you care so much?" I hesitated, my throat tightening, then swallowed hard and forced the words out. "I mean, I get why you and Rose love Faye. She's—she's easy to love. And Ivy's like sunshine in human form. But me?" My throat tightened. "I don't get it."

Emmett's expression shifted, his usual lightheartedness fading into something serious as he pulled away fully. "Robyn." His voice was softer now, careful. "Do you think we love you less?"

I dropped my gaze, suddenly feeling small. "I think…" I exhaled sharply, frustrated with myself. "I think I don't understand how you can at all."

There was a beat of silence before I felt Emmett's hand on my head, ruffling my hair unexpectedly. "Well, that's dumb."

I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"You heard me," he said, grinning, but his voice was still warm. "That's dumb. You don't have to be easy to love to be worth loving, little bird. And for the record? You are very easy to love. You just don't see it yet."

Something in my chest clenched painfully. I hesitated. "Even if I never tell you everything?"

Emmett's expression softened even more. "Even then."

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. I wasn't sure if I believed him yet—but maybe, in time, I could learn. "…Okay," I said shakily after a long moment.

Emmett's grin was instant, mischievous and warm, as he slung an arm around my shoulders. "Good. Now, are you going to keep doubting us? Because if you are, I might just have to start carrying you—our baby—around everywhere to prove my point."

I let out a real laugh at that, swiping at my face with the sleeve of my hoodie. "Why do I feel like you'd actually do that?"

"Damn right I would."

That set me off again, laughter bubbling up so hard I barely noticed the way his eyes softened or the quiet, triumphant smile he wore—like he'd just won the lottery.

Once my laughter went down to a giggle, he gave me a light squeeze on my shoulder and steered me toward the shelves full of comics. "Come on, little bird. Let's find you something awesome."

I nodded, and for the first time since being bonded to them, the fear tangled in my chest began to ease—just a little.

"Welcome to comic paradise," Emmett announced with a playful bow.

I stood frozen, my eyes widening as I took in the towering shelves packed with comics. "Whoa…" The word slipped out before I could stop it. I had never seen so many in one place before.

When I was younger, the only bookstores near my house barely had more than a shelf or two of comics—never a whole section like this. And since I could only go at night, all the good ones were always gone by the time I got there.

As I got older, comic shopping became a luxury I couldn't afford—not when survival became my priority. When I came out to my parents at eighteen, they made it clear: if I wanted to stay, I had to be someone I wasn't. Marry someone I didn't want to—someone twenty, maybe thirty years older than me.

So I left.

With no experience, I had to scramble to find a job, and I was forced to change my last name—that was their condition if I wanted to leave without the threat of a lawsuit hanging over me. They said they couldn't have someone like me staining their family name. Thankfully, I found a small place at a decent price, close to the café where I was hired. I didn't have much—just two pairs of pants, a couple of shirts, a pair of sneakers, and the little money I had secretly saved. But it was mine.

"This is amazing…" I murmured again, lost in the sight.

Emmett beamed. "I knew you'd love it! Do you know what you want?"

I shook my head, still too mesmerized to decide.

"Why don't you take a look around, little bird? I'm sure you'll find something you like." His voice was warm as he gave me a gentle nudge toward a shelf bursting with a variety of colors.

I stepped closer, my hands trembling slightly as I reached out, tracing the spine of one of the comics like it was something fragile—something precious.

I picked up the comic and glanced at the title—Betty & Veronica. I had never heard of it before, but as I looked closer, something familiar caught my eye. In the corner, bold lettering read Archie Comics. That name rang a bell, though I had never read anything from them.

Curious, I flipped through the pages, but after a few panels, I could already tell it wasn't my thing. I set it back on the shelf and continued browsing, but the sheer number of choices quickly became overwhelming.

There were too many comics! How was I supposed to find two that I-

Just as a twinge of panic started creeping in, a comic book suddenly appeared in front of my face, making me flinch slightly. I blinked in confusion and followed the arm to its owner, which was Emmett who was grinning mischievously.

"Hey, little bird! Look what I found! I think you might like it," he announced, his tone exaggeratedly playful.

Still feeling a bit confused, I took the comic from his hands and glanced at the cover. The moment I processed what I was looking at, a giggle slipped out.

"Really, Em?" I said, trying to stifle my laughter.

The comic he had handed me was titled The Flying Radioactive Penguin. Sure enough, the cover featured exactly that—a glowing green penguin soaring through the air, the aura around their body was like Green Lantern's. In the background, a busted-up robot polar bear shook a mechanical fist toward the sky in frustration.

"This can't be a real comic," I said, shaking my head with a grin. "No way."

Emmett gasped dramatically, staggering back and placing the back of his hand against his forehead like he was about to faint.

"Don't disrespect the Green Penguin, little bird," he declared. "His name is Gus! And his greatest nemesis, Polar Bear Pete, would not appreciate you downplaying his defeat."

His theatrics sent me into a fit of laughter. I had to wipe my eyes as I tried to catch my breath, completely missing the way he was watching me with a proud smile.

Then, with the same mischievous glint in his eye, he grabbed something behind him and leaned in slightly. "Wait a second," he said. "If you've never heard of the Green Penguin… Don't tell me you've never heard of Super Grandma."

I raised a skeptical brow. "You have to be joking. There's no way that's a real comic either."

But instead of answering, Emmett whipped another comic from behind his back, and my jaw dropped before I burst into fresh laughter.

The title read Super Grandma Fights Technology, and the cover was priceless. A stern-looking grandma in a cape, that was just an apron backwards, stood at the center, armed with a spatula in one hand and a frying pan in the other. She wore oven mitts, her stance fierce as she faced off against a sentient, menacing (not really) toaster.

It was ridiculous.

And yet, I couldn't stop laughing.

I laughed so hard, I forgot all about the panic I felt earlier. By the time I finally calmed down, wiping away the last of my tears, Emmett grinned and clapped a hand lightly on my shoulder.

"Alright, little bird. Let's find you something you might actually like," he said.

We searched through shelf after shelf, flipping through pages, but nothing really stood out. As time passed, a hint of discouragement settled in. Maybe I wouldn't find anything after all.

But then—I saw it.

Something familiar. Something I recognized.

The Marvel section.

Emmett noticed my hesitation and nudged me forward, guiding me toward the shelf. My eyes scanned the covers until they landed on one that made my breath catch in my throat. My fingers twitched before reaching out, hand trembling slightly as I carefully pulled it from the shelf.

There it was.

Ultimate Spider-Man 1/2.

A comic I hadn't seen since the day my old parents threw it into the fireplace.

I never even made it past the fourth page before they destroyed it.

I could almost hear my dad's voice in the back of my mind, telling me it was a waste of time. Telling me I didn't deserve it.

I had always meant to get another copy, but life got in the way—there was always something else demanding my attention. The thought always lingered in the back of my mind.

Beside me, Emmett shifted. "Is that the one your parents—?"

I cut him off with a sharp, jerky nod.

He hesitated for a moment, then asked carefully, "Do you want it?"

"Uh—yeah… I mean, no… I don't know… maybe," I mumbled, but even as the words left my mouth, I knew the truth.

I wanted it.

I wanted it so badly.

I exhaled shakily, my lips pressing together as I struggled to find the right words. But, as always, Emmett saw right through me—like he knew what I wanted to say before I could even find the words myself.

He studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he reached out, gently taking the comic from my hands, and dropped it into the basket.

"W-what? Em, you don't have to—" I stammered, my eyes wide.

"I know I don't have to," he interrupted smoothly, flashing me a grin as he held up the basket. "I wantto."

I stared at him, my throat tightening. It was just a comic—something small, something simple. But to me, it meant everything. In that moment, the weight of his kindness pressed down on me, and I wasn't sure how to handle it.

I lowered my head, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill, my voice barely a whisper, "Thanks…" The word felt like it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken things.

A large hand rested gently on top of my head, and when I looked up, I saw Emmett smiling at me—not with the usual teasing glint in his eye, but with something steady and comforting.

"Anytime, little bird," he said softly. "Now, what do you say we find you a second book?"

I nodded, swallowing against the lump in my throat. As we continued searching the shelves, my eyes kept flickering back to the basket, to the comic sitting there. For the first time in years, Ultimate Spider-Man 1/2 was mine again. And somehow, for the first time in years, it felt like I might finally be allowed to have it.

Just to let you know, which i'm you do, "The Flying Radioactive Penguin" and "Super Grandma Fights Technology" are not real books. As much as I wish they were, they are just books I made in my daydream that I think I would read as a kid. Spider-Man 1/2 and Betty & Veronica are real comics though. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!