Disclaimer: *laughs* I don’t own Witch Hunter Robin, plain and simple.
Kitsune: I want to free Amon!
Puff: You’d break the machine; I get to open the box!
Kitsune: I saw him first!
Puff: Liar! He was my muse long before you even knew about him, sister!
Kitsune: He’s my friend!
Puff: *looks slightly amused* Kitsune, I doubt he likes either of us.
Kitsune: *pouts* That’s not true…
Puff: You know it is. He’s rather distant, much like you.
Amon: *pounding fists on the inside of the contraption he’s currently stuck in*
Puff: No! Amon, stop, you’ll jam the locking mechanisms! *Runs over to her invention and desperately tries to reset the now slightly distorted metal loops and hooks*
Kitsune: Is it broken?
Puff: *chews on her lower lip* Yes, I’d say so. And the area inside doesn’t allow much space for hacking and slicing.
Amon: Let me guess, I have to stay in here until you come up with some other ingenious invention.
Puff: Right, now where did I leave my drawing boards? *wanders off*
Chapter Eighteen: …Ouch, That Has Got to Hurt
Amon awoke slowly, his eyelashes adroitly parting the dense fog that clouded his charcoal eyes. He blinked carefully, pushing the daze away until only a light shadow remained to blot his concentration. His dark orbs danced around in the dim room, desperately trying to take in his surroundings before the full force of the pain washed over his body.
Eventually, after scanning the rest of the room, Amon let his attention wander towards a deeply shadowed corner. As he stared at the darkness, his eyes adjusted and he could faintly make out the shape that resembled a human form. Just as Amon’s mind began to filter out the nonessential parts of the image, the blazing fluorescent lights flickered into life and a nurse dressed in snazzy outfit strode in with tray.
“Ah, so you finally woke up?” the nurse questioned, but by her straightforward tone of voice it was readily apparent that he wasn’t to respond with an answer, “I should be quiet, since Robin and Javan are still asleep.” She gestured towards the corner that Amon had been focusing on as she set down her tray in a flamboyant manner, flipping her wrist out and letting the tray clatter lightly on to the table. She winced slightly at the noise, but let the pained look vanish when she noticed that the two girls were still sound asleep in the chair.
“What’s Robin doing here?” Amon questioned, his voice barely escaping as raspy whisper. The nurse looked up at him as if were stupid, her hands pausing momentarily as she carefully thought about how to respond.
“Well, first off you should be grateful she cares about you; poor girl was simply frantic for hours after the paramedics brought you in. Here, drink this,” she said, handing Amon a glass of water, “One of the doctors thought about sedating her, since she kept rambling on about how her ‘craft’ should have protected her and you were hurt because her attention faltered. Another one of the doctors, Dr. Takahashi, heard about her and took her away. Apparently he told her something good because when he brought her back, she was calm as could be.”
“You still haven’t explained why she’s here now,” Amon pointed out sharply, choosing to ignore the fact that many of the staff at the hospital could have overheard Robin speaking about her craft. He decided to be lenient when he spoke to his partner, given the fact that her mind had been preoccupied with his injuries.
“Robin and Javan spend a lot of time here. Your daughter is always talking to you, chatting about what’s been going on. Robin is quieter, though. It seems, to me at least, that she’s praying most of time when she’s here,” The nurse explained, evoking an incredulous look from her patient. Amon hadn’t thought that Robin cared enough to stay at the hospital with him, for however long he’d been comatose.
“How long have I been here?” Amon asked, forcing himself off of the comfortable white pillows and into an extremely uncomfortable half sitting position. He hissed slightly as he jostled his wounds, cursing Sela forcefully in his foggy mind. At least he could be happy he knew she was dead; that, at least, provided some solace to pain-filled hunter.
“About a week and half, I’d say,” the nurse said, flicking her fingernail against one of the I.V. tubes lightly, “For the first four days, you were really hovering between life and death. We nearly lost you a few times, but Dr. Takahashi fixed your wounds nicely. I’ve never seen wounds like the ones you have, especially from a car accident. That must have been horrifying, loosing control of the steering wheel and going straight into that cement wall.” She cast sympathetic eyes at him, not noticing the slightly confused look written on his stoic features.
“I don’t remember any accident,” Amon stated, not about to reveal the truth about his wounds if she didn’t know.
“Well, that’s understandable. You probably hit your head, or something,” she said casually, brushing his words off as if she heard them frequently and completely forgetting about how unnatural his wounds were. That fact alone disquieted Amon; was it really wise to put your life in the hands of someone who really didn’t seem to remember what they had said the sentence before? How was he to know she remembered all of her training?
“Yeah, I’d suppose so,” Amon said quietly, gently prodding his skull in various locations to see if he had any head wounds. The nurse looked at him with inquisitive eyes, nearly laughing at the sight of Amon poking his head. She had to bite her tongue and look away to keep from releasing the giggles. He, of course, knew it was quite out of character for himself, but he just had to know if there was the slightest indication that he had in fact wounded his head.
“Do you want to eat now or would you rather I come back later after the doctor has seen you?” The nurse questioned point-blankly, leaving no room for Amon’s response as she arranged the tray over the bed and skillfully arranged the small dishes. Though, when she removed the tin covers, even Amon’s ironclad emotional containment wasn’t enough to hold back his disgust for the hospital food. The hunter’s nose wrinkled ever so slightly as he quietly pushed the tray away when the nurse turned on heel and left.
“Daddy, you should eat,” Javan’s cheerfully high-pitched voice squeaked from the corner of the room. Amon slowly turned his head, ignoring the stabbing stiffness in his neck muscles. As his dark eyes settled on the pair of females, he realized that Javan’s voice wasn’t really high-pitched from overwhelming happiness. Robin’s slender hands were tightly coiled around the toddler’s midsection, squeezing the squirming girl.
Both his daughter and the craft user stared at him for a minute, as if they really couldn’t believe he was awake. Robin’s emerald eyes were twice their normal size, luminescent with glistening tears of happiness. For a brief moment, Amon feared that she would fling Javan into one of the walls and throw herself at him for a hug but luckily enough she simply stood her ground, settling for staring at her partner like he was going to die at any second.
“I demand to be set down,” Javan said forcefully, twisting her neck around as far as it would go so she could look at Robin’s face. The blond looked at her as if startled, nodded obligingly, and promptly put the little girl down on to her own two feet. Javan quickly scampered over to her father’s bedside, glancing around for any way to climb up.
“I demand to be picked up,” Javan said as forcefully as before, skillfully implementing her father’s ‘people skills’. Robin glided over, fluidly scooping the child into her arms and depositing her on the edge of the bed. As any child would, Javan didn’t understand that she had to stay on the edge. She flung herself towards her father, wrapping her small arms around his neck and nearly choking him. Amon winced and inhaled sharply at the pressure applied to his many still open wounds.
“Javan, let go of me,” Amon hissed, pushing his daughter back to the edge of the bed. The little girl, still blissfully unaware that she had done anything to warrant such rude behavior, pouted sullenly and glared icily.
“I’m sorry,” Robin said quickly, her voice thin and feeble, “I shouldn’t have picked her up.” Her head was hung low, her bangs shielding her eyes from Amon’s gaze.
“Hn,” Amon responded, not about to give in to his temptation to soothe her feelings, “Javan wouldn’t have given up.” Robin smiled a half smile at him, her green orbs melting into shiny pools. Amon looked away, his unemotional mind attempting to comprehend why she was so emotional over his waking up and why he seemed to be ‘happy’ as well, though in a much more subtle manner.
“Daddy, I’ve been so worried,” Javan cried out, apparently she already had forgiven her father for pushing her away. She crawled carefully along the edge of the bed, inching her way towards her father’s pillows. When she finally reached her destination, after many near falls, she carefully entwined her delicate fingers with Amon’s, evoking yet another smile from the observing craft user.
Amon simply didn’t know how to respond, staring blank-eyed at his daughter for what seemed to be a very uncomfortable eternity. A quick knock on the door and a doctor striding in broke the silence.
“Hello, Amon, it’s good to see you conscious,” the doctor said jokingly, holding out his hand for Amon to shake.
“And you are?” Amon asked pithily, his ill-humored nature still intact.
“I’m Dr. Takahashi. I was one of the doctor’s who treated you when you arrived. It’s such a shame that sweet, little Robin’s craft didn’t protect her from Sela’s time manipulation,” Dr. Takahashi said, casting a sympathetic glance at the fifteen-year-old.
“Robin, you told him?!” Amon near-shouted, ignoring the pain that shot through his body with every syllable. The craft user backed up so she was out of his reach, her green eyes nervous and tense.
“Oh, don’t worry. I treated Robin’s wounds when she was involved in the battle here and I helped her recover her craft. I knew all about the STN-J before I ever met either of you, though,” Dr. Takahashi soothed, though his cheerfully demeanor didn’t mesh well with either of the hunter’s moods, “Now Robin, would you and Javan mind stepping out of the room for a second while I make sure Amon’s wounds are healing properly.”
Robin nodded, plucking the little girl from her father’s side and gracefully gliding out the door. She shut the door with a fluid motion, leaving a very morose Amon with an overly jovial Dr. Takahashi.
“Any sharp pains?” Dr. Takahashi questioned, his tone still much too bright. Amon looked at him like he was stupid.
“I’ve just woken up from a coma and my body is covered with gashes from Sela’s fingernails,” Amon said sharply, hissing loudly when the doctor poked one of the slashes on his neck.
“Well, everything seems to be healing nicely,” Dr. Takahashi commented offhandedly, peering at one of Amon’s arms, “Oh, hello, what’s this? That shouldn’t be there.”
“What?” Amon asked, thinking that the doctor was going to point out something stupid.
“Look at those small wounds,” Dr. Takahashi ordered, pointing at a collection of tiny gashes on Amon’s arm just above his wrist. Amon’s dark eyes widened as he stared in horror at the wounds.
Author’s Note: I want to apologize for last week. I was in a really bad mood because I was sick. I’m still not all that much better. But my tummy isn’t upset. {bounces}I’d like to thank all the reviewers. Twenty-three. I’ve decided, thanks to some advice from a few of you, which is I’m going to try and not beg for reviews. I apologize if I pressured any of you into reviewing. I didn’t realize. {bows}Oh, yes, I know ff.net is having issues. So if you can’t review, try emailing me.
To the Reviewers:
Wake-Robin: {shifty eyes} Hey, there was a moral there and I didn’t even know it!
YellowDancer21: I’m a sucker for a bishonen. Any kind. Ah, my doll Javan will be back. Don’t worry, I understand, I’m not bothered.
Goth Musician: My computer is evil as well. But mine will shut windows by itself. Especially the kind that has passwords and took me fifteen minutes to get there.
Amon’s Angel of Darkness: I don’t really care it’s summer. Ah, is that a sly request for more chapters? {laughs} I’m sorry, I update once a week. I’ve done that ever since I started on ff.net last year. Besides, doesn’t it give you Sunday to look forward to?
Sakura Rain: Ya know, that was basically the same thing running through my head. I didn’t know what I was doing.
Hunter_Robin: Thank you. I want to see what happens too! {giggles}
Beautiful Witch Hunter Robin: I like hospitals. So sterile and shiny. I don’t have to wash my hands as much. {grins}
Gin_tora_ama: No, not summer vacation. I’m going to do home study very soon. School was too slow. {pouts}
Haze Tex: Could you have just seen it in CG? That would have been great. Why, thank you. I’m so very happy you think so.
Beastmaster2003: Really depressing? I’m relived that I finished another one. But I’m glad you like my story that much {giggles}
CEEGEE: I understand how you feel. A few times, I almost wasn’t able to update because the server wouldn’t let me in. Amon in the next chapter? I had fun with that.
AngelD: I’m assuming that the end was a good cliffhanger. {laughs} Well, did you enjoy this chapter?
Dragon’s Lair: I feel a little better. But I still have my fever. {sulks}
Ghosthunter: I’m happy you enjoy my story.
Suki1: Did you get into the soda again? Or was it sugar? You seem hyper…
De Lethe: Amon and the boss-man? That probably won’t be for a while. I’ve got so much MORE planned.
Meichan: Thank you. You don’t know how that makes me feel. I’m going to try and concentrate on how loving all of you are and not the total. That’s what I should done from the beginning.
SHAWN PROVANCHA: Thank you, thank you.
Who Would Be Called Konbyashii: Scampered away? {Pats head} I’m so proud of you. Sneaking away from social gatherings. Huggles time! {glomp}
Imo: Sure, but I update on Sunday. Every week, unless I’m not going to be able to and I’ll put a note in the previous chappie.
Carri: I don’t have the issues with parental controls. I have my own limits set on my computer. My mum doesn’t even touch it. {smiles} Something that others don’t have? You must mean the psycho that’s writing it. Me!!!
Row: I won’t cut back. I have too many fans. Poor Amon; he suffers in the disclaimers.