WHAT: Robin comes to Vallo! Edwin tells him about Nikolai. WHERE: The DOA offices and then a nearby park WHEN: April 10th WARNINGS: SO MANY SAD FEELINGS STATUS: Complete
Apparently, even when transported more than a hundred years into the future, Robin maintained the ability to charm anyone in his path. Right now, it was a member of this unknown DOA. She’d retrieved him a cup of tea - terrible, but he’d never say it - and chatted with him about some of these things. She’d even made an attempt to teach him the ways of this infernal device that sat on the table, lit up and glowing with a seemingly infinite amount of magic.
Robin, to his credit, barely even balked. He’d already been unbushled once, what was another thing?
So he focused on what he did know, and that was that she had mentioned Edwin. Robin’s face had lit up and he’d so charmingly asked her to retrieve Edwin that she hadn’t even hesitated. Good, because that meant he didn’t have to make demands, and he was already feeling off-kilter enough from everything.
Yet glad not been tortured and cursed with this kidnapping, which was an odd thing to be relieved about.
Brenda had done as asked and when she returned with Edwin, she had blushed quite a bit on Robin’s arriving smile. Maybe she didn’t know it was not for her, but Robin didn’t correct her. “Here you are, Mr. Blyth. I’ll bring you those samples later.”
He still had no idea what she meant by samples, but Robin could be a people-pleaser when he turned that diplomatic charm on, and finally turned the smile to her. “Thank you, Ms. Brenda.” She hadn’t provided her family name, and that made him twitch just a little.
But then she was gone and he could look at Edwin now, and his shoulders could fall and he could relax. He could be his true self now, and his smile morphed into something more calm and loving. “Fancy meeting you here in this strange world.”
Edwin had been sure, absolutely sure, that when he'd been called to the DOA because Robin Blyth had arrived that there had to be some sort of mistake. It had been two years since he'd first arrived in Vallo. Robin Blyth could not have come here now, after all this time. It was impossible.
And yet, when he walked into the office at the DOA, there he was. Exactly as Edwin remembered him. His chestnut hair, those brown eyes, that smile… good lord, that smile. Edwin was, for a long moment, captivated by it. He couldn't look away.
And then Brenda left – he never thought he'd be distressed to have Brenda leave a room before, yet here he was – and then Robin’s charming, Sir Robert-ness of it all fell away away and he was just Robin again, and Edwin couldn't look at him anymore. Couldn't stand to look at him. He couldn't identify the feelings roiling around in his chest. Guilt, yes. Guilt about falling in love with Nikolai when Robin wasn't here. Guilt about the fact that he wanted nothing more than to have Robin smile at him when Nikolai wasn't here.
“Yes,” he managed, a little terse. His own shoulders hadn't relaxed. Had, in fact, been rigid since the moment he'd confirmed with his own eyes that Robin was here. “I'd not expected –” he swallowed, staring hard at the wall. “Violet is here too. She arrived about half a year ago.”
Robin had recently gotten used to the idea that he could touch Edwin while certain people were about, and even more when they were alone. Now, they were alone. Edwin was still saying confusing things, however, like Violet being here half a year - he’d only just seen her hours before.
Maud had been the second person he’d asked after, following Edwin, and that had been a negative. But Violet had been? Robin’s brows knitted together. “Without Maudie? Gods, she must be a pill to deal with. How have you two been getting on?” He knew they didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but she hadn’t exploded him yet so that was a good sign.
“Nevermind that, just tell me you’re well and whole? You look well and whole.” Robin moved into Edwin’s personal space, and then leaned in for a kiss. It was intended to be something light, easy to escape from if the door were to open suddenly. Robin was more than willing to shout his love from the rooftops if it wouldn’t have embarrassed Edwin so terribly.
Edwin should have expected this. Some part of him, in fact, had expected this. But it still came as enough of a surprise that he only stared at Robin, caught like a deer in headlights, until the last possible moment when he turned, not just his head, but his entire body, and retreated out of Robin’s orbit. He’d been close enough to smell him, a scent that he thought he’d forgotten but, as it turned out, was as familiar as it ever had been, and Edwin had simultaneously wanted to touch him and wanted to run fast in the other direction.
Running, in fact, seemed like a very good idea, and his eyes darted, quickly, toward the door as though he might, in fact, make a break for it. He couldn’t do that. Robin didn’t deserve that. Robin had never done anything, but be one of the best people Edwin had ever known. It was Edwin who deserved to be walked out on, not Robin.
“I – It – She…” he swallowed, and forced himself to look at Robin. “We need to talk,” he managed, and glanced at the door again, though this time not with any thoughts of making a bolt for it like some sort of scared rabbit. “But not here. Have they… given you an apartment yet? Or would you –” he started, and then stopped. He couldn’t invite Robin to Sutton Cottage, not yet. Not when it was still so much the place he’d shared with Nikolai. “Or we might go to a park?” Not as likely to have evesdroppers as a cafe or a restaurant, but maybe it was better that they have this conversation somewhere a little more public.
Oh. Well, that was not good. Robin had been given the information - strange world filled with magic, people like him arrive on a regular basis and live here for any amount of time. He didn’t like to try and wrap his head around the idea that maybe Edwin barely knew him, but he could win him over again. He was confident in the love Edwin had for him, now, after all this time.
“I told them I didn’t need one if you were here,” He replied simply, but it felt a little lame now. Robin couldn’t help but look like a wounded pup, it was one of his genetic failings.
He waved it off as he reached out to grab the phone (there was no way, given the last telephone he’d seen had been a huge, stationary device and they weren’t even commonly used.) and shoved it in his pocket. “I’ll figure something out, not to worry, they gave me enough money to run an entire estate on. But the park sounds nice, some fresh air would do me good. Lead the way.”
Oh. Oh. Edwin felt a new level of wretched, and the kicked puppy dog look he shot Robin before expressed it clearly. Except, of course, he couldn’t have Robin feeling sorry for him, not when it was him who was doing this to Robin, and so he did his best to turn the look into… something less pathetic. A scowl, perhaps.
Only, it had been that, had Robin arrived two years earlier, Edwin would have jumped at the chance to have him over to Sutton, where they could live together, quite openly, and not need to worry about any rumours that would be circulating. The rumours would have been quite true, and he didn’t think Robin would have minded. Would have, in fact, confirmed them in that easy, wonderful way of his.
He had to make himself speak. It was absolutely ridiculous that he found himself completely unable to form words. But he cleared his throat. “I think you’ll find that the money won’t carry you as far as you might expect,” he said. “But, of course, I could – or Violet could,” if you wanted nothing to do with me, which of course you won’t, after all this is said and done, “help you until you can get settled.”
He swallowed, and turned to leave the room. “There’s a park not far from here.” He cleared his throat. “Did you arrive via the forest, or through the city?”
Edwin and Robin had been such a pair for a while now it was difficult for him to re-adjust to this mindset where he wasn’t welcome to reach out and place a hand on Edwin’s back as they left the room, or the idea that he wouldn’t be following Edwin home. But he was adaptable, he’d adjust. Starting over knowing what he knew now? Easy.
It was those optimistic thoughts that carried him out of the room and the building, following Edwin the entire way as he took everything in. “Forest, but I barely saw any of this when I was escorted into the building, I just was a bundle of confusion and energy rattling around. Been a while since I’ve had such a massive thing happen and not seen it ahead of time.” Or, at least, in his disjointed and out-of-context way. Maybe he’d been tapped out.
When they stepped out of the building, Robin was already staring up at the very tall buildings, but at least had enough self-awareness to stop before stepping into the busy road. “And I thought London was chaotic. This is something, Edwin.”
“It is,” Edwin said. He didn't especially love all the noise, but he did love the anonymity of being just another face on the street. He preferred to remain at Sutton these days, but he didn't hate it when he had to come to the city. “Maud would like it, I think. And the cars are much faster.” This last he said with a small smile at Robin, and then immediately cursed himself for it. It was hard not to smile at Robin. But it wasn't fair to do so.
He turned away again, and fell silent, rehearsing in his head what to say to Robin as he made his way to the park.
“Maudie would love it,” He had to agree, as he watched the busy streets and people. He had to keep up with Edwin too, which was proving to be a a strain on his attention span as he wanted to look around. “I already miss her. Poor Violet.” He’d have to make sure to give her a hug even if she gave him a look, later. Maud would want them to stick together.
Getting to the park wasn’t a long walk, Edwin had been right, but it opened up another world of strange for Robin to take in. It was beautiful, but there was also a small family of blue ducks and that caught his attention immediately. It was a war inside of him that wanted to distract from whatever Edwin wanted to talk about (Robin couldn’t imagine it was something good) and to change the subject to them.
But no, he could square his broad shoulders and give Edwin his full attention. “Right. So. We’re at the park. Not to take a turn around the take, I imagine?”
Edwin probably should have been more aware of the fact that Robin would be absolutely fascinated by everything here, and that if two years had been enough to inoculate Edwin to Vallo’s weirdness, two hours on Robin’s part would have just left him with more questions. But every moment Edwin didn't tell Robin about Nikolai gnawed at him. He felt like he was lying to Robin by not telling him. He felt like he was being disloyal to Nikolai’s memory.
“Yes, let's…” he looked around, and nodded toward the bench. “Here, let's sit,” he said.
He resisted the urge to take Robin's hands once they sat, instead took to wringing his own.
“Well, Robin,” he said. “I think – I don't know what Brenda told you, probably nothing useful,” he grimaced, because that had been unnecessarily rude, whatever his personal feelings on the woman where. “But time moves strangely here, especially… especially in regards to home. But you should know that I've been here for two years this last January already.” He hesitated and then added, “It's April 10th, today, if you didn't know. Twenty-twenty-four.”
Now they were sitting and Robin would have much rather stayed standing because this conversation was getting more and more dreadful by the minute.
But he sat. He sat, when he wanted to use this opportunity to have a little picnic and lay his head in Edwin’s lap and pull him down for a kiss instead. He sat, even dreading what was coming, the frown on his face was impossible to hide at this point. “I’m sorry- Two years?” He’d been told time was weird. He’d been told that Violet had been here half a year.
But two years? That was longer than Edwin and Robin had been together. He’d known this was the future, and that thought had delighted him, but this? This filled him with dread.
Robin swallowed it down, “A lot can happen in two years.”
Edwin nodded. He couldn’t meet Robin’s gaze. Hell, he couldn’t even bring himself to look in the general vicinity of Robin’s face, or his… anything. His hands, at least, were safe. If he stared at his hands, he couldn’t see how much Robin would hate him.
“It can. I wasn’t alone. I was… There was a man. Nikolai. We were, we were together for most of that time. We lived together, at Sutton, for a time.”
He’d decided that he wouldn’t try to cushion this with excuses or apologies. No when I came here, we’d only known one another for three weeks. No I didn’t let myself fall for him for nearly eight months, because I was waiting for you. He wouldn’t beg for Robin’s forgiveness; he didn’t deserve Robin’s forgiveness. And at the same time, he couldn’t regret the time he’d spent with Nikolai. He would never regret the time he’d spent with Nikolai. So no, just the bare facts, laid out before Robin, and if Robin hated him for it, then… then that was his right.
Edwin might have been avoiding looking at Robin, but Robin wasn’t doing the same. He stared at Edwin, deeply, and without comment. He watched every line, that expression, the way his eyes were downcast. Most of that time is what settled deep in his chest and Robin had to take a breath.
And another breath.
Until he’d met Edwin, Robin hadn’t felt this way about anyone before, and couldn’t see himself ever feeling that way about anyone else ever again. But he hadn’t been here, so there was no way to say that with any measure of certainty except for the pain that was growing in his chest.
Was this what a panic attack felt like?
Robin still hadn’t taken his gaze off of Edwin. Be he also hadn’t talked, either. He just took another breath, and then closed his eyes to plunge himself into darkness. It didn’t help. He was floundering and didn't know what to say or do.“You keep saying it like it’s past-tense.”
That was a very long silence. A long, uncomfortable silence that did absolutely nothing for Edwin’s anxiety or his guilt, or his absolute certainty that he was, possibly, the worst person on the planet. There’d been a world, not long ago, where he’d been evil. Evil enough to have used the Goblin’s Bridal on Nikolai. He wondered if that Edwin would have found this any easier. He his lip to prevent himself from trying to fill the silence, from trying to explain away what he’d done, to tell Robin that some small, guilty part of him had also missed him for most of that time, how he and Nikolai had spoken of it once.
“It…” Edwin cleared his throat. “Sometimes people don’t stay here. They get sent back home, or off to other worlds. We’re not really… we don’t really know how it works, exactly. So it is. Past-tense, I mean. Nikolai disappeared about a month and a half ago.”
Robin immediately hated that there was some very small part of him that was relieved by that news. Not because he was vindictive or hated this unknown man, but because Robin couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t see him and immediately punch his face. Which-- well, would have been extremely unfair.
“I’m sorry.” He was, it was true, and he didn’t sound sarcastic at all. Edwin deserved something good, no matter where he was, and if Robin wasn’t able to give it to him then-- well, damn the man that could, but Robin was owed nothing. “I- uh- was he good to you? When you were here?”
Edwin wasn’t sure what was worse; recalling Nikolai and his second disappearance, or the genuine sympathy that was in Robin’s voice. Robin was too good. Robin was too good for him, and too good for just about anything else. Edwin was sure that if their positions had been reversed, he’d have been far less kind, far less understanding, than Robin was. He hated how kind Robin was being. He hated that all he wanted was for Robin to wrap his arms around him.
He brought his fist to his mouth. He wasn’t going to cry, that would just make all of this so much worse. “He was,” he said, and cursed at how his throat closed around the words.
Robin felt like he was having an out-of-body experience when he nodded. “Good.” Oh, god, he sounded choked-off at that, which wasn’t his intention. But Robin could feel the emotions swelling in his chest and his throat and if he didn’t get out of here, he would likely be fit to burst those emotions openly.
He stood, abruptly. It was an awkward thing and not nearly as smooth as Robin would have liked and he had to shove his hands into his pockets to avoid touching anything that he was no longer allowed to touch.
So that was that. Two years, Edwin had moved on. He’d been happy, and realized he could be happy without Robin. He deserved that happiness, Robin would never try to take it from him, and so he just nodded. Blasted tears better wait until he was out of Edwin’s sight to make their appearance. “Right- I ah- I need to go. I need to be alone right now, I think.”
Edwin made himself look up at Robin; he both dreaded it and couldn’t help it, but most of all he knew he had to. He owed it to Robin to at least look at him, and not be so much of a coward to avoid him completely.
He had once, long before, wondered what Robin would look like if he was getting his heart broken. Now, he had his answer. It was the only question, he thought, that he wished he had never been able to answer.
He resisted the urge to stop him. To grab his hand and tell him to stay, that they would figure this out. What right did he have to try to stop him?
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, quiet enough that he would be surprised if Robin heard him at all; he couldn’t make his voice any louder.
In hindsight, it had been laughable that the most hurt Robin thought he would feel in terms of Edwin was the conversation that felt lifetimes away. “Tell me to stay, stay for you, and I will.”
Edwin hadn’t. Just as he had then, Robin felt second in line. The one that was never worth speaking up or waiting for. It was an unfair thought and was gone as soon as it came, but it had pushed the tears forward and all he could do was respond with a shaky nod and few words. “Me too.”
He wasn’t sure which way to go, or where he was even walking, but Robin couldn’t stay here any longer. He had to move, so he did, into the unknown.