Disclaimer: Once again, I say this hurtful thing that gouges my heart with a sharp stick. I don’t own Witch Hunter Robin!!! *runs off crying*
Amon: I hate my current job. *takes off after Puff*
Puff: I do own Reika and Javan. Don’t use them. *wails*
Amon: *staring at Puff as she cries*
Puff: You’re a real comfort, Amon. You know that?
Amon: *still staring*
Puff: *knocks Amon’s feet out from under him*
Amon: Ouch.
Puff: Haha!
Amon: *stands up and walks away*
Puff: Wimp!
Amon: *turns slowly on heels*
Puff: Like I’m scared.
Amon: *grabs throwing knives off of wall and flings them at Puff*
Puff: *looks around and realizes she’s pinned to the wall* Feh.
Amon: *walks off*
Puff: Amon! Doll! I need to type! Help!
Chapter Eight: Unexpected Help
“Please tell me where we’re going. My friends will worry,” Robin begged, barely able to see the nurse’s outline in the muted light. The craft user had lost track of time and had no idea how long they’d been traveling through the door-lined hall.
“As I’ve said before, you’ll see,” the nurse responded soothingly, as if she could sense the feeling of fear that enshrouded Robin’s weakened form, “And as for friends, they still think that you’re in the examining room with the doctor.” The nurse chuckled lightly, the sound echoing off the walls.
Robin began to wish she had just suffered through the pain for a few days, instead of having seen the doctor. She reached to put her hand in her pocket before she remembered that they had her change into a hospital gown before the examination. That meant her cell phone, her only means of contact with the outside world at the moment, was lying in her coat pocket in some distant room.
The craft user was so busy lamenting her seemingly dire situation that she didn’t register the fact that the nurse had turned down a smaller hallway. This one was near-pitch black with nothing to line the walls. The floor was made of chipped tiles, their fragments causing the ride to be rather bumpy.
“You’ll have to walk from here,” the nurse said, rousing Robin from her mental distress. The nurse had opened the door at the end of the hall, gesturing Robin to stand up and go through it. Green eyes swept over the doorway, only imagining what could lie beyond. Slowly, Robin stood and began to take steps; the sharp tiles scratched at her socked feet.
She cautiously stepped through the door, searching for a light switch as she went. Her foot settled on a splintery wooden step and she recoiled out of reflex.
“Be careful; you’ll fall if you don’t step right,” the nurse cautioned, placing Robin’s trembling hand on a cold metal rail. Its steep incline indicated narrow stairs. Robin nimbly picked her way down, tapping her toes on the next step before descending.
“I’d really like to know where I’m going,” Robin said politely, pushing a bit of bang off of her face as she made sure she didn’t tumble down the flight of stairs.
“You’re already here,” a male voice rang out as bright lights flashed on. Robin shielded her eyes as she looked around for the source of the voice. She spotted her doctor standing off in the corner of the small room.
“What’s going on?” Robin asked suspiciously, desperately trying to gather together her fragments of energy. The nurse pushed her forward to a table, glittering metal instruments surrounding it. Robin’s emerald eyes widened as she tried to turn around.
“I promise we won’t hurt you,” the doctor said softly, “Please, sit down.” Robin warily lowered her body onto the cool, slightly damp metallic table while she watched the other two humans move about.
“Who are you people?” Robin questioned abruptly after a moment of silence, slamming her hands down. She immediately regretted the movement, delicately picking her left hand up and massaging the swollen joint. A small tear of pain escaped her as she fought to keep her control in front of the people who’d all but kidnapped her.
“Let’s just say we’re people who sympathize with both the STN-J and the witches,” the nurse said quickly, reaching over to snag Robin’s wrist for examination. She wanted to make sure that the blonde hadn’t further damaged the joint.
“How?” Robin inquired simply, wondering how a person could help both the hunters and the prey. It seemed quite impossible and extremely improbable, taking note of the fact that most people didn’t know about either group.
“Simple. We believe that each is right in its own way. If possible, we will lend support to both factions. We’re people of the medical field; if we can help someone who’s ill, we’ll help them no matter which side their on,” the doctor explained, pushing Robin down to the table. The girl laid down, resting her weary head on a thin feather pillow. The nurse wheeled in a portable x-ray machine, and positioned it where the doctor indicated.
“That’s good, very good. Oh, but look at that rib. A small fracture there and there,” the doctor muttered, pointing a small pen at the newly developed x-rays. He continued to talk to himself quietly, examining the images carefully.
“Well, Robin, I think that you came out on the good side of the fight this time. Two of your ribs are slightly broken; you’ll just have to be more careful when you move for a few weeks. Your wrist is just extremely twisted,” the doctor joked, patting Robin’s shoulder good-naturedly, “Now let’s see what we can do for your diminished power levels.”
The nurse carried in a metal tray, filled with all sorts of frightening tools. Double-bladed scalpels, needles four inches long, sharp corkscrews, drills, and vicious-looking scissors, just to name the items on top. The doctor dug around, shifting a few items here and there until he pulled out a thin wire attached to a hair-thick needle.
“This will hurt,” the nurse said coldly, holding Robin to the table. The girl hadn’t time enough to struggle when the doctor inserted the needle just below her elbow. He hurriedly hooked the wire to a machine and flipped a series of multi-colored switches. A jolt of energy flooded Robin’s body, making her convulse slightly. Her brilliant green eyes were flashing between glassy and bouncing with life every few seconds, nearly synchronized with the eardrum-shattering yelps of pain she was shrilly emitting.
“And we’re done,” the doctor proclaimed cheerfully as he flipped the switches back into their original positions. He withdrew the needle and carefully placed it in the bright orange biohazard box on the wall. Robin twitched for a few seconds before her entire body relaxed and she realized she felt much better.
“How do you feel?” the nurse asked kindly, “Can you light this?” She cupped a small candle in her hand and held in front of Robin. The craft user focused in on the wick, concentrating carefully on her goal, as she didn’t have her glasses with her. A flame flickered into life, proving Robin had miraculously regained her energy.
“We’d better head back to the main part of the hospital before people noticing that we’re missing,” the doctor said cheerfully, “Ladies first.” He gestured them back up the rickety staircase before straightening things up a bit.
“What did you do to me?” Robin inquired, examining the minuscule needle hole in her arm.
“It’s hard to explain. Basically, we hooked you up to a generator and fed a specific frequency of electricity into your body. You absorbed it, and it restored your craft,” the nurse elucidated plainly, placing Robin back into the wheelchair and pushing her down the narrow halls. Robin was rejoicing at the return of light as they headed back.
“I hate to seem ungrateful, but why did you help me?” Robin asked respectfully, bowing her head slightly.
“Like the good doctor explained, we’re people who are trained to help others and we do. Well, if it’s at all possible. We really can’t help someone who’s been toasted to cinders or electrocuted profusely,” the nurse joked merrily, “Good thing those kinds of cases don’t crop up to often, or it would get difficult to help the others. You know, feeling bad about someone dying and your mind wandering to them.” Robin smiled weakly at the nurse; she just had to throw in the ‘toasted to cinders’.
“I understand,” Robin stated concisely, drawing her shoulders back and straightening her spine properly. She delicately arranged her hands in her lap and held her head high. The nurse promptly smacked the girl’s shoulder, not enough to hurt though.
“Don’t sit so properly; you’re supposed to be sick, remember?” the nurse inquired teasingly, pushing Robin down a bit and making her slump in the chair, “Now relax and let your head loll a bit. Good, now put on your best ‘I don’t feel so good’ face.” The craft user did as she was instructed, actually looking twice as ill as she was when she first went to the examining room.
“Perfect,” the nurse crooned as she wheeled Robin into the large atrium, now refilling with those who had been sent scampering right before the battle. Robin kept her head absolutely still, but let her eyes dart around to search for her friends. Once again she spotted Doujima, though this time the slacker wasn’t lounging; instead, she was playing some sort of hand game with Javan. And once again, Amon was nowhere to be seen.
Robin redressed as soon as the door to the examination room closed. She hurriedly undid her hair, finger combed the locks smooth, and twisted her pigtails back up into their customary style. Just as she was finishing, the doctor walked in and smiled at her.
“You look like you’re well on the road to a full recovery, Robin,” the doctor commented, signing her release forms and writing a prescription for pain medication if her ribs acted up.
“Thanks to you,” Robin said gratefully, her eyes brimming with emotion to match her words.
“You were a very good patient. Most of the time we have to try several different power levels before we get it right, and by then most patients are screaming their heads off to be let go. Actually, most patients start screaming when they see the tool tray,” the doctor said offhandedly, winking lightly as he handed Robin the slip of paper with her prescription scrawled freely across it. She adroitly folded the paper in half and slipped into the pocket of her over coat.
“I have to thank both of you for helping me,” Robin said happily, standing up and straightening her skirt a touch.
“Don’t tell anyone about us, if at all possible. Please remember, we’ll help you if you come to us in need,” the doctor and nurse chimed simultaneously, gently pushing Robin out in the main hall. The craft user glided over to where Doujima and Javan sat, all the while casting disbelieving glances back at the room where she had been cared for.
“Finally,” Doujima sighed exasperatedly, “What did they do to you? Kidnap you and force some dangerous treatment on you?”
“No, just a few x-rays,” Robin quickly responded, her voice slightly guilty as she diverted her eyes. Her hand floated to where the thin needle had been in her arm; the nerve endings were still a little twitchy, but that could be expected. The three girls sat in silence for a long time, until Javan became very bored and decided to play with Doujima’s hair.
“Go play with Robin’s hair,” Doujima said slightly forcefully, pushing the child towards Robin. The girl was dexterously pushing her feathered hair back into place.
“Robin’s hair is all tied up, though!” Javan exclaimed, letting herself collapse dramatically into Robin’s lap.
“Where’s Amon?” Robin asked, casting her green eyes around the foyer. Doujima shrugged casually and, as if on cue, the stoic hunter strode back into the waiting area. He nimbly picked his way through the crowd waiting for help, pushing a few people out of his path so that he wouldn’t have to slow his pace.
“Let’s go,” Amon ordered distantly, his mind obviously somewhere else. Doujima and Robin hastily made sure they weren’t forgetting any important items, and rushed to catch up with him.
“Daddy, can I go see my mommy before we leave?” Javan asked innocently, her wide eyes focused on Amon. The hunter opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it and paraphrased his response.
“Your mother already went to the nice place she wanted to go to,” Amon said, kindly as was possible for him. He kept his eyes focused on the path ahead of him, not looking at his child. Doujima and Robin exchanged sad glances; both determined not to show how upset they were in front of the little girl. They had only known Reika a day or so, but she was a fast friend to both.
The four piled into Doujima’s car and drove back to STN-J headquarters, the overcast sky a fitting reflection of their moods. As they arrived, a slight drizzle was all that remained of the horrifying storm of earlier that day. Amon accepted Javan from Robin’s arms and walked off to his car.
“Daddy, where are we going?” Javan asked brightly, not quite getting the fact her mother had died.
“We’re going home,” Amon said briefly, buckling the small girl into the passenger’s seat and making a mental note to buy a car seat sometime soon. Javan nodded and settled back in the dark car as her father climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
Author’s Note:
Yeah, I know I got a little away from the main plot line, but I swear this will all fit when I’m done. ‘Sides, next chapter is when the real fun starts. ^_^ Let’s see. I received seventeen reviews for the last chapter. (Hoping for more this time *hint-hint*) And out of those seventeen reviews, six people read disclaimers. (Ya’ll didn’t think I test you, huh?) Now, I’m not mad or anything, but I’d really have to say that the disclaimers are quite a refreshing bit of humor before the really plot begins. I suggest that everyone reads them, and I’d like those who read them to tell me what they think of them. Oh, and I really want to apologize for the lateness of this chapter but the computer I use to upload was malfunctioning and I’m moving (again) so I’m busy trying to shove things into boxes while leaving all my reference materials unscathed.
To the Reviewers:
Slysilverinu: Why thank-you. I won’t tell, I swear it.
Suki1: *looks hurt momentarily before going into chibi mode* Puff though it was perfect place to stop, that she did!
Yumeko, Priestess of Dreams: I didn’t think it was that sad. (But this is coming from someone who can eat popcorn when the hunters shoot Bambi’s mother)
Darkpixie4: You like disclaimers? Puff loves disclaimers!
Jade: I can’t picture Amon with a kid, either. And that, my friend, is what is going to make this plot funny.
Cali1043: Well, I really wouldn’t say Robin came out of this chapter ‘okay’, but I’d say that she doing pretty good for getting electrocuted.
Dreamangel1130: No, not British; just really weird. I call my mother all kinds of different things. (No, not like that) FYI: I’m American.
Yoshi: Are you hyper like Puff?
Haruya: Well, here you go. I didn’t update on Sunday. Maybe it’s Robin, maybe not…
Becca: Thank you, but unique is what you get when you put a card like Puff in front of Karasu (My computer) and let her type. I am a very unique girl with many unique personalities. Eventually, I think; It will be MUCH later on though.
Pyro-witch2: Tis fine, my dear. *laughs* I don’t think this chapter was cute. But don’t worry, there’s cuteness ahead. ^_^ *runs off*
Kira Yaruna Amezuki: I think Amon is going to have a hard time raising a child. I think Amon would have a hard time keeping a goldfish alive. o_o
Wake-Robin: No, not weird at all. I actually didn’t want the death scene to be all mushy; I wanted Reika to go peacefully and content with her demise.
Ibpapasgirl: Well, Javan is Amon’s daughter. That means Robin can’t force her way into his apartment to make sure he doesn’t, like, kill her.
Jasmine Jackson: Okies, Puff will email. Actually, I’m pretty sure I just emailed you back…
xXxMysticalDreamerxXx: The rest of the STN-J is bound to want to be involved, so might as well start it early!
Row: Puff never falters in her quality of work, for a slight drop in her attentiveness would shame her for eternity.