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Robin Hood is the Prince of Thieves ([info]robinofthehood) wrote in [info]wariscoming,
@ 2013-09-18 23:40:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:claire callahan, robin hood

Who: Claire C and Robin
What: Talking about playing death, maybe
Where: Claire's place
When: Some time in the afternoon


The first time he'd spoken to Claire in this way, it had been out of something akin to desperation. Though he would never label it that. His best friend, and his wife, had both, though unintentionally, left him feeling as though he had reason to speak to someone like her. The trouble with that was knowing deep down they were right, when he'd spent so long vehemently dismissing the notion that he needed help. When the majority of your time was spent focused on helping those around you, it was easy to turn a blind eye to your own problems. Easier to wrap yourself in the comforting blanket of denial. Here, though, he led a very different life. Here there was plenty of time when he had little to do. And it was in those moments that oft ignored feelings and memories clawed their way back to the forefront.

He had come a long way with her, and made a lot of progress. That was how she worded it. To him, a lot of it had been to do with Marian. He'd needed a way to tell her, and up until all too recently hadn't known how. Now that he had been able to share more with her, they had grown closer than ever. Up until recently, that was. Unsurprisingly (in hindsight), volunteering to take part in deaths sacrifice had not been a popular move.

Though it had involved bringing people to their ends, one of the hardest parts for him to accept in taking on the role of death was that such suffering still existed in the world today. He had given up more than many people might conceive to help the hungry, and the poor. And then death had transported him to a place where famine and poverty existed on a dizzying scale. Though rationally he knew that didn't change the good he had done, it was hard not to think of that as being of little impact by comparison.

So now he was sitting on the couch in Claire's apartment, eyes focused on something through the glass doors as she occupied herself with something in the other room, lost in his thoughts. His foot tapped a constant beat on the carpet until he became aware of it, and he put a hand on his knee as a physical reminder not to. Anxiety had brought with it a few habits the first few times he'd come to see her that he hadn't quite broken yet. It wasn't that he didn't like her, or truly appreciate all she had done for him. It was just that he never knew just what she would end up getting him to talk about, before he even realised he was doing it. That and he hated the notion that he needed help. He still hadn't been able to lose the feeling that somehow, it made him weak.



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[info]changinghats
2013-09-27 03:04 am UTC (link)
"Maybe so," she admitted at his confession. "But it's my job, Robin. I can't tell you how to feel. You have to do that. And you have to think about how it is you feel. I can't do that for you." She leaned forward in her seat, arms crossed on top of her knees.

He knew better by now. This was how it had to go. She could, and would, guide his train of thought. But it was up to him to get there. He had to come to terms with his emotions, with his memories. It was ultimately Robin's responsibility to deal with his past. She was just the one who would get him there.

"You were asked to do something no one should have had to. You were asked to take another life. Again. But this time, Robin... These people were already suffering. And, if Death is to be believed, their souls would have moved on safely afterwards. I can't imagine any of those people had a one-way ticket to hell so... You ended their pain and likely sent them on to somewhere far more peaceful. Isn't that something to think on?"

Okay, maybe she could give just a slight push in the right direction. But this wasn't any ordinary case. This wasn't even PTSD at its finest, the way Robin usually was. This was Death. A day working as Death. This was extreme.

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[info]robinofthehood
2013-09-28 04:15 am UTC (link)
"Sometimes it's easier not to." Which as an admission he knew was not all that surprising coming from him, especially to Claire. She knew just how reticent he could be, and had been on a number of topics. But that didn't mean he hadn't tried. Endlessly he'd fought himself, made himself open up to her. Because she was going out of her way to help him, when she didn't have to. A lot of it was because he knew it was helping him, as well, and he knew things could be better. But most of all it was for Marian. She'd told him that him being happy and okay made her happy, and he had said time and again that her happiness was what was most important to him. It was what he fought for the most passionately.

"I know that. Looking back at it objectively I know that they were suffering. But I could have helped them. That's all I did, Claire." That was all he could do. What good was he if he couldn't help people in that way? "And they were terrified. They might not be suffering any more, but I'll never forget the looks on their faces. I get what you're saying. I just..." He wasn't sure how to finish that sentence, or what he was even trying to say. Because the whole thing was one giant contradiction. He knew how much he had done to help in the fight here, by taking on this task for a day. And yet to have taken the lives of people that in another life he might have saved was a slap in the face.

"It's fine," he eventually concluded, almost dismissively. "I know you'll say it's not, but what alternative is there? I'll deal with it."

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[info]changinghats
2013-10-01 01:16 am UTC (link)
Honestly, as stubborn as Robin was and as hard as he tried to push away his issues, he really had at least made an effort, and that's all Claire had ever asked of him. He was a good guy, and not just in the Hero of Nottingham sense. He really cared about people in general, his friends and loved ones especially. But that was what had put him in this position to begin with. Always caring for others, never worrying over himself until it was too late.

"You could have helped," she said softly. "But for how long? How far gone were most of them? They'd have needed help far beyond your skills. So far from home? You could have given them some bread and meat that day, but what about the next, or the one after?" She shook her head, her eyes closing, trying not to think too long on the pain he'd seen. It would be hard to take that backseat if she didn't.

Right. She could do this. He was trying to brush it off and she knew better. You didn't work that closely with someone and not know them well. "Those people needed medical attention. To be that close to death, it was more than you could have handled. You're one man, Robin. I know you want to save everyone, but you can't."

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[info]robinofthehood
2013-10-01 05:59 pm UTC (link)
"I am acutely aware of how little help I could have been, thank you Claire." He was doing his best to hold down his frustration, but in this situation it wasn't easy. In 1192, brining people food and money, saving them from the sheriffs antics, that had helped? Here, in this day and age? It felt like child's play. The notion that it could make any difference seemed ridiculous. He had felt ridiculous. Useless, anyway. And what about Becker? He'd been sent to a war torn country and he seemed to be coping just fine.

"There were children there, hundreds of them. I know it's foolish but somehow I thought in this day and age things would be better." A mother had been holding her child in her arms when Robin had reached their side, and that had nearly stolen his resolve. He'd had to take her child from her, and he couldn't imagine that pain. If, when, he and Marian had children, he knew just how terrifying that would be. Raising them in this place. In an apocalypse. How could he not constantly be worried for them?

Sighing he leaned back in the chair, eyes focused directly ahead of him. "But it's like I said. It doesn't matter. I can't do anything about it. I sure as hell can't change it." No, he was one man in the middle of an apocalypse hundreds of miles away feeling more powerless than he had in almost his whole life.

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