"Robin."
"Hm..."
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
"I don't know... Four?"
"That was a lucky guess."
"No it wasn't," she shook her head. "My vision is fine-"
"-You still haven't opened your eyes."
Hazel opened her eyes.
"That was a really good guess, huh?"
"Sure was."
"Why am I here?"
She glanced around, her head heavy and her eyes slightly blurred as she pushed herself up ever so slightly.
There was an awful smell of cleanliness, it was too clean, like somebody had spent two whole weeks scrubbing the floors in an attempt to remove every single germ. There were beeps, chatter, sobs, too much noise and everything just looked far too bright. The colours were too soft, too pastel, it was like they were trying to wash away any fear by avoiding harsh colours. But the overwhelming soft colours had the opposite effect on the girl who laid under thin blue sheets.
"...Hospital..." She mumbled, gathering her thoughts as she glanced through squinted eyes. "...My chest hurts... And my head? I can't feel my hands... My arms feel like rubber."
"That answers my next few questions then," the doctor said, reminding Hazel of her presence as she moved around, fiddling with wires and other random pieces, "We'll keep you in overnight so I can keep an eye on your vitals, try not to stress yourself out."
"Uhuh..." Hazel hummed, nodding along. Yet, she kept her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It seemed the doctor decided to just skip over some important information.
"Do you know how dangerous it is to be as careless as you were?" she asked, her voice void of emotion as she finally turned, glancing over the girl with her blue aged eyes that definitely needed more rest. That was rich though, coming from Hazel. "We've put you on medication and we're keeping an eye on your vitals. But we found that you were also malnourished and exhausted. You haven't been taking care of your body."
"Y'know, it could be worse," Hazel shrugged, sinking down, "last time I was here, I literally died."
"And yet, here you are again." The doctor shook her head, rubbing her eyes. "Most would see those experiences and try to improve their lives to stop themselves from finding more harm... Clearly, you're not like most, are you?"
"Of course not," Hazel shook her head, "I'm a busy girl you know, I have no time for that."
"Please, take care of yourself..." She sighed, "I'll be back in a few hours to check your vitals. Remember, don't stress. Eat the food the nurses bring and for your own good, get some rest. Let somebody know if your breathing gets worse. And please, don't touch the stitches."
"Alright, I will, since you're so nice." Hazel beamed, obviously still dazed and the doctor seemed to accept this, realising she would do as she was told and quickly, still very busy, the doctor turned and left the room once more. Pausing outside of the door to speak to somebody Hazel couldn't see.
Soon enough, footsteps approached her bed. Hazel didn't turn, she instead stared up at the ceiling, her eyes void of anything but frustration in herself for getting herself there in the first place. She didn't regret going to the hotel, she found good evidence. But, now her day would be wasted in a hospital.
More wasted time.
"Hazel..." Roderick sighed, dropping into the seat beside her bed. "What's going on?"
"Absolutely nothing. I'm just chillin', killin'."
He sighed again, watching her push herself up to look at him.
Frustratingly, this wasn't the first time they had been in this situation. The last time, it was when she had a little more care, when she had died for just a minute and she was actually bothered by her poor health... Things had changed.
"Hazel, please. I'm worried."
"I know," she sunk again. She thought she would be able to look him in the eyes when she spoke, she thought she would be able to handle everything. But she was wrong, just like she was wrong about a lot of things.
"One of these days," Roderick lowered his head and hushed his words slightly, "you're going to get yourself into a bad situation you can't get out of."
"...It wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen..."
"Do you know what you're saying, Hazel? Do you even realise?"
He paused and looked her over before sinking, his eyes boring into her as the thought struck him down like lightning.
"Of course you do..." He said in a breath of realisation. "Of course you do," he repeated, "...How long have you been thinking this way?"
"...A long time," she admitted, seeing no point in hiding the truth now that he knew more than anyone else had ever figured, "after granddad died..."
"Before-" he stopped, blinked, then leaned in with a hushed voice, "before you were even a detective?"
She nodded and suddenly, things began to click. He had known her longer than anyone. He knew her before she was The Hazel White, he knew her when she still cared, when she had barely a grasp of what she was doing in the world. She had come a long way, but for what? For this?
He felt partly to blame. If he had kept her away from crime scenes, if he had been there a little more, maybe she would never have become a detective. He knew her for years, he knew her life before all of this. But there they were, struggling to get through it because he didn't think to stop things from going too far. It wasn't his fault but, he couldn't convince himself of that.
"Your stupid, badly thought out schemes, the carelessness, getting hurt over and over... that wasn't just idiocy, was it?"
She didn't answer. Yet, the silence said more than she ever could.
"Talk to me, Hazel. Please."
"I don't want to be Hazel anymore."
She shook her head, unable to look anywhere but the blue blanket that seemed to be getting wetter and wetter as tears fell from her eyes with nowhere to go but down. She would have wiped them from her cheeks, but her hands were numb and wrapped too tightly. They hurt too much.
She didn't remember when she last cried. She didn't even feel like she was crying, but the tears were there, she felt them rolling down her cheeks and over her trembling lips, around her nose and just about everywhere. But she didn't feel it, not really. She just felt helpless.
"Then, should I call you Robin?" He asked.
She nodded. She didn't want to have to keep hearing the reminder of who she had become every time somebody called her out.
"We'll figure this out, Robin." He said, "if you need to talk about anything. The crime, life, life before all of this. Call me. I know I'm busier than I used to be, but I'll always make time for you. You know that, right?"
She smiled up at him sadly, her smile shaking and quivering as her nose turned red from sniffing and crying.
"I miss living with you," she admitted in a shaky voice. "I think that's the closest I felt to family in a long time."
"Really?" He turned to her, shocked by her words. "I thought it stressed you out?"
"No, never," she shook her head firmly, sniffing away her runny nose, "you're like a dad to me."
He smiled this time, warmed by the words she let slip in her woozy, medicated but oddly truthful state. She had no idea how much he wanted to hear words like that. But, throughout his life, he never got the chance to be called dad. Not when he and his husband got denied adoption, not when he and his husband struggled to find somebody who would have their baby and not when they got divorced because the stress of never having a full family toppled them to nothing. But now, alone with his work, he found somebody willing to treat him like a dad and somebody he would treat as a daughter.
He brought his hand up, ruffling her hair before sitting up in his seat.
"I should call Archie and let him know what happened."
"Not yet."
"Hm?" He turned, surprised she had stopped him. "Why not?"
"I don't want him to worry. He's stressed too. I'll only feel worse if I know that he's worrying. It was bad enough knowing that you would know about this. Can we- can we just keep this quiet for now? Until I'm better? I miss him, but..."
He nodded silently, understanding and accepting her words.
"I should mention," she sat up, glancing over the bandages that ran over her palms and up her arms, hoping to keep herself distracted from any eye contact, "I found something. As dumb as the stay at the hotel was, it wasn't entirely useless..."
"Shouldn't work wait until you're better too?"
"Not this," she shook her head, firm in her belief that this should be mentioned as soon as possible. "I saw two people at the hotel, a drug deal, but they mentioned things related to this crime. I wrote it all down in my notebook."
"...You're joking."
She beamed up at him, still with teary eyes but much brighter now after seeing him cheer up at the news.
"If you decide to look around, be careful. They should go there again at some point, so it's best if you don't scare them away and force them to change location."
"I promise I'll be careful."
"But-" she continued, pushing herself to sit up as she glanced towards the door, being sure that there was nobody there listening. There wasn't, but there was a figure, one that had walked slowly, seemingly upset. His eyes trailed over the walls, through the windows and door.
It wasn't who she expected.
Ricky. He looked rough, like he often did. His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes sharp yet... sad. She wondered if he saw her. But, she didn't get the chance to see as she realised she had gotten distracted from an important note she was making.
"But," she continued again, "the boys. I really do think they're being framed. They're good, I know them and you have to trust me when I say that they wouldn't do anything like this. They're not involved."
He faltered for a moment, unsure about why exactly she was bringing this up. But she went on.
"There's evidence against them, but I think they're being framed. Can you please make sure they're safe? If you need any more convincing, the conversation I heard at the hotel happened fifteen minutes before I got a call from them all, the only places they go are a twenty minute walk or more away from the hotel."
He nodded, smiling at her as he put his full trust in her words. She was always certain of things before she made requests to him. She hated being wrong and she hated wasting his time.
"Even now..." he breathed out, not finishing his words and leaving her to guess. He stood up from his seat. "You're a real trooper, Robin. I should go get your bag from the cafe before anything happens. Do you want me to come check up on you later, or will you be alright?"
"I'll be okay," she decided with a nod of her head, knowing she had already taken up a lot of his workday. And, with his job, he was almost always busy. "Thank you though Roddie. Really really actually thank you."
He smiled gently down at her, appreciating her warm thanks before he began to step back, rushing to keep this evidence as safe as he could for her sake.
"Bye Robin."
"Bye-bye, Roddie."
And he was gone, leaving her to sit in her silence and feel her stomach twist, wondering whether she should have told the man what she did about her own carelessness and the truth behind it.
Hazel slumped down, a pout on her lips as she stared up at the ceiling. What was she supposed to do now? She should have been working, but she was wasting another day in bed-
"Tweetie, you idiot."
She felt her face light up.
"You can't be mean to me, I'm in hospital." Hazel immediately sat up, meeting the eyes of three boys who approached quickly, two seemingly relieved while one scowled.
"You told us last night that you were fine, what the hell?" Ryan stopped beside her bed, his eyebrows furrowed while Hazel smiled up at him sheepishly, still a little woozy from the medication. She turned, glancing towards Leo and Fox who watched her carefully, hoping to see if she was alright before yelling at her. "You can't collapse like that!"
"I did it, didn't I? Want me to do it again?"
"Don't argue with me now!" He brought a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes as he breathed heavily. "Why d'you always argue with me!?"
"I don't," she shook her head quickly, "I only argue with you when you get angry."
"Why!? That'll make me angrier!"
"Because you're so quick to anger," Hazel sighed, resting with her eyes shut while a slight throbbing feeling grew in her forehead, "at least I know your anger's aimed at me that way."
"You what-?" He paused, taking in her words. Of course, she wasn't really thinking her words through, not like she should have. She was still so tired and the medication certainly didn't help. "What d'you mean?"
"I mean-" She paused, acknowledging the sense in her head and brought her fingers up to touch where she had landed when she fell earlier. "...Woah, do I have stitches?"
"Ryan," Leo sighed, dropping himself into the seat beside her bed, "she's too drugged up to think. Yell at her when she's out of the hospital."
He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest while Fox lowered himself to kneel beside her bed, resting his arm against the hard mattress as she breathed a little heavier than usual. He watched her carefully, taking in the fact that she had been crying and was left with the remnants of a red nose and puffy eyes.
"How're you feeling, Tweetie?" Leo asked, tilting his head.
"Weird and sad," she pouted, "I want to go home."
"You'll be able to go home soon," Fox said, his eyes set on hers as he watched her turn towards him. "Use this time to rest properly."
"...Okay..." She agreed, swaying her head from side to side before halting her movements, glancing towards the three with a tilt to her head. "...Why are you all here? Aren't you busy?"
"You're alone in hospital," Leo said, resting his elbows against his knees while reminding her of the obvious fact she had almost missed now that Roderick was gone. She couldn't expect him to stay all day when he was so busy. "We're not leaving you alone here. Oscar and Joel are here too, but they went to find snacks."
"You're all here?" She paused, bringing her hands to her chest while taking in his words. "Aw, my heart fluttered. You're all so nice." She paused again. "But aren't you busy?"
"The only busy person was Fox," Ryan stated. She had obviously been crying, and the fact that he was seeing her in a hospital bed hurt more than he thought it would. So, Ryan turned toward the baseball player and put him on the spot. Though, he seemed unaffected, already prepared with an answer and ready to explain.
"Yeah, but you told me to take care, so I skipped practice. Coach won't mind if I explain." Fox smiled at her softly while she hummed, slightly glad that he hadn't gone to practice, though, she wouldn't admit that. "You hit your head pretty hard. Does it hurt?"
"Only when I think about it," she shrugged, "But at least I'll look like Harry Potter."
"Nah," Ryan shook his head, leaning back, "his scar was on the right side of his head, yours is on the left."
"It's on the right side of his head? I thought it was the left side though..."
"It was described that he got the pain on his scar on the right side of his head in Order of the Phoenix."
"That makes sense, actually, I always thought-"
She stopped, taking a moment to acknowledge the cold boy's quick response with random Harry Potter trivia most wouldn't know unless they read the books. Leo watched, a smirk on his lips as he turned to face the silver-haired boy who seemed to falter, realising he had screwed up by speaking too quickly and thoughtlessly.
"You're a fan of Harry Potter then?"
"Uh, no, yeah... the movies?"
Fox scoffed, stood himself up as he stretched his arms over his head and shook his head at his friend.
"I'm in hospital, you can't lie to me anymore. It's not allowed, this is a lie-free zone. Tell me the truth," Hazel stared towards Ryan, knowing he was lying as he turned away, attempting to make up an excuse in his head. But she knew, she saw the falter in his expression. "Did you go through a Potter phase? What house are you in?"
He stopped momentarily, glancing down at his hands before letting a sigh escape him as he admitted defeat and answered.
"...Hufflepuff."
"Seriously?" Hazel sat up, her smile growing as the boy finally talked to her about something he was interested in. "I'm in Ravenclaw."
Ryan turned, realising that she wasn't being as critical as people usually were.
There was a time when he read in the cafe, it was the first brand-new clean book he had gotten in a while, and he didn't want to leave it at home where it would have likely been ruined with poured alcohol, blood or vomit. So he took it with him. When he read it, he got odd glances from all of the people who liked him for his 'bad boy' attitude. Sure, he was fifteen at the time and most people had probably grown up since then, but it didn't change the impact. They put him on edge. So, he stopped being so obvious about his hobby. Hell, he got a bad comment once when he mentioned it. That was enough to almost make him hate reading. Almost.
"Do you read a lot?" Hazel found herself growing more and more interested, genuinely wanting to find out as much as she could about the boy for her own satisfaction of knowing him and his hidden personality. She liked him, without a single doubt, but he was so much more than she first thought he was and he was so much softer than what he led people to believe. "I should've noticed when you made that Misery reference that one time- oh-"
She stopped and stared at the wall for a moment.
"Wait a minute," she furrowed her eyebrows, a slight ache following as the skin on her forehead moved with her actions.
Whenever she did his homework, he spent time on his phone. But thinking back, he never seemed to tap or type, she knew from her searches he didn't really use any social media either... All he did was swipe every once in a while.
"You read on your phone, don't you? You read all the time."
"I- wha-? How'd you-?" Ryan turned, his eyes widened to Fox and Leo who watched in silent entertainment. He seemed to be asking for help with only his eyes and no words. She was catching on quickly, the more that was revealed, the more she realised. "If you tell anyone I swear I'll-"
"You'll what?" She laughed, "I'm already in hospital." She sank a little, deciding to give her aching head some rest by leaving the boy alone and deciding not to tease him, as much as she would have liked to. "Honestly, I like the fact that you read."
"You like the fact?" He repeated, struck by that particular sentence. "What the hell?" He turned to Fox and Leo, "Is this a normal response? Do people normally act positively to reading?"
"Dude," Fox sighed, "we told you not to listen to her."
"...Eh?" Hazel tilted her head, confused.
"The only other person besides us who knew he liked reading was Amelia," Leo turned, explaining while the door opened and two figures approached. "She told him to stop wasting his money on books. He hasn't told anyone since."
"Seriously-"
"Tweetie!? You're alive!?"
They turned, their heads snapping towards the purple-haired boy who seemed frantic in his movements, his eyes widened in relief as he darted across the room and dropped at the girl's side, taking in every feature of her face. Her widened brown eyes he only now noticed the specks of gold in, her slightly squishy cheeks and the few freckles which decorated her slightly wonky nose and rounded face. Joel followed behind, his eyes tired as he simply drifted through the room. He was lost in his head while eating a Snickers bar.
"I thought you died!"
"I only got stitches and medicine, I'm okay, Oscy," she sat up and smiled towards him, leaning against his shoulder slightly, "there's no need to worry."
They glanced around, turning towards the oxygen beside her. Clearly, it was more than just medicine and stitches.
"I think we need to worry more," Fox said, "you're only here because you didn't look after yourself."
"I don't..." Her words fell away from her before she could fully get them out.
Her gaze fell and Fox immediately sat up, seeing how her fingers began to move, inching towards each other and before she could start to pick at her healing hands, he reached forwards and pulled them apart, his hand still on her wrist as she met his gaze and he spoke.
"I don't care." He said, his voice tense enough to get everyone to freeze, their hearts dropping in the sudden anxiety they felt with his serious tone. "You don't want people to care about you? I don't care."
"I didn't do anything to earn-"
"You don't need to. I'm going to care about you whether you want me to or not."
Nobody said anything, she thought she heard a gulp from somebody. Her eyes were latched to his, scared to turn away when they were so sharp.
"If you won't care, then I will." He pulled away when her eyes started to glaze over and he saw his own reflection of intensity for just a second, "you always say you'll 'try' to look after yourself, but we will. By our standards, you earned that."
"I care," Joel added, unsure what he was really trying to prove unlike Fox who wanted more than anything for her to realise that nobody needed to work so hard for a shred of care in their life. He wanted to meet whoever had made her think that, he wanted to know who drove her to this sort of reckless life that led to her always pushing and pushing, hurting herself to accomplish things.
"Yeah, dumbass."
"Ry, don't call her that," Fox said with his voice lowered.
"What? Why? I call everyone a dumbass."
"Still, don't call her that."
"Why?"
"Just don't."
Ryan glanced around, confused. However, upon noticing his friends nodding their heads, he seemed to shrug and nod his own. He knew that maybe his sharpness wasn't the thing needed at the time, she was in hospital and he wanted to be a little gentler. But his words escaped him before he could think about it. If it was just him and her, he hoped that maybe he could be a little softer.
"Alright," he said. "You're all weird but okay."
"You're just as weird," Leo noted and without hesitating, the boy nodded.
"Tweetie," Joel said, turning to her with his puppy eyes that were seemingly permanent. "How long do you have to stay in hospital?"
"...Overnight," she sunk, her nose scrunching as she said it, still with a rapid beating heart over the last conversation. "I hate hospitals. Last time I was here, I died."
They took it as a figurative 'died', presuming that she was just being dramatic again. But she wasn't. Still, she left them to think she wasn't being serious, she didn't want anybody worrying more than they already were.
"Ooh, can we have a hospital sleepover?" Oscar beamed, now wandering around the room. He had never been in a private hospital room before. He thought they only existed in movies. But, given the fact that Roderick was the person who took her there, she quickly realised he got her the room for the sake of feeling secure that her identity wasn't going to accidentally be slipped into a conversation while she was on medication.
"Only one person is allowed to stay," Ryan shook his head. "Who's coming to stay with you, Tweetie? Is your family on their way?"
She sank even further, lowering herself until the lower half of her face was under the thin blue sheets. She shook her head.
"What about Chief Hemms?" Joel asked. She shook her head again.
"I told him not to. He's already really busy and I took up a lot of his time."
They fell silent, glancing at one another.
The thought of her being in hospital completely alone was a heavy one.
"D'you want one of us to stay?" Fox offered and she seemed to hesitate. She obviously didn't want to be alone. So, they took it as a yes, despite her silence.
"Ryan," Leo turned to him, "where were you planning on staying tonight?"
The boy mimicked Hazel's hesitation.
"Home?"
They nodded, firm in their decision and unwilling to argue about it anymore.
"Tweetie, Ryan's gonna stay with you." Fox decided, and she smiled.
She was happy enough with the choice, she would have been happy to have any of them stay by her side, but Ryan's presence brought her a particular sense of comfort.
"Okay," she agreed tiredly, wriggling her fingers as the feeling started to return. "I'm gonna annoy you all night."
The night was getting later, the sky had turned black hours ago and Ryan was still in hospital.
He was happy enough to be there with Robin, he didn't mind dealing with the beeps of machines and the idle chatter through the halls. But, it made him sink into the chair beside her bed as he watched her move under a warm dull light. He didn't want her to be hurt, he didn't want to see the bad things he already saw happen to her too.
She occupied herself, easing her mind as best as she could with her notebook, scribbling into it poorly with injured hands. It was the same notebook that Chief Hemms had brought before visiting times ended. He seemed nice, he seemed to care about Robin a lot, like a dad. And he was quite friendly to Ryan too despite the past incidents of him telling him off for fighting. Instead, he sent him a kind smile that reflected how thankful he was. For what, Ryan couldn't say. But, he returned the thankful smile nonetheless.
"It's too quiet," Ryan sunk into the chair, breaking the silence with his own voice. "I don't mind being here with you but... I hate hospitals."
"Me too," she said, shutting the notebook to give him her full attention. "Is there a reason? I'd get it if not, they smell too clean."
When it was just them, he found his voice falling to a softness he didn't think it could. It was only when they were alone that he found their words were gentle, careful and kind. And as a boy seen more like an aggressive villain, he realised that the fragility of tender words was like a wash of cool air on a burning hot day.
"The last time I was here overnight," he sighed, moving the chair beside the bed closer to her, "I was with my mum... It didn't end so well." He could feel his emotions rise. But, it might have been because it was just them and the sky was dark outside while it was warm where they were. "God, I feel cursed. Why does everyone I care about end up here eventually?"
"I'm pretty sure I'm here because of my own curse," she reminded him. "And you know my luck. I'll probably be fine by tomorrow."
"I don't want to trust that," he shook his head. "Tweetie, I do care about you a lot, you know? I don't... I don't want to see you die- here I thought I finally found someone like her. God..." He dropped his head onto the mattress, thankful that the girl was still breathing heavily. Heavier than normal.
"Your mum..." she pushed herself up, quickly figuring out exactly what he was trying to say. "What was she like? What was that life like? You said you lived a good life once... I'm assuming that was the life you had with your mum."
"It was... it was warm and cosy, you know?" His voice was muffled by her bed, but, it was quiet enough in the room for her to make him out. "It was the last time I really felt at home and welcome when I got back from school. She always asked how my day was. That was when my mum was alive. She was everything to me, she was so brave and strong and all that I wanted to be..."
He clenched his fists, not in anger, but hopeful to get a grasp of reality, preventing himself from sinking into the thoughts of what his life could have been.
"Eventually," He continued, "She died. She had to be strong to survive but nobody can be so strong forever... I'm hoping I can get comfort back eventually. I doubt I ever will, not the same as it was, but some form of warmth that could just remind me that if I hold on long enough, things will work out and that the wait was worth it. I really just want to feel at home again."
"Well," she hummed, letting her fingers carefully and tenderly run over his fading silver hair, it was turning back to what it once was, the roots were dark again. He didn't want to fix it.
"What is it that makes a home?"
"...Care? Comfort? Knowing that you don't have to be anything other than yourself? I don't know, maybe it's just a place where you can let go. It's been so long, I don't remember anymore. Maybe it doesn't even need to be a place."
"But, you have an idea. And you might not be close to it now, but you at least have the memory of it. Try not to forget it. You won't get it again, it's never going to be the exact same feeling you had, but, that doesn't mean you won't find something just as good."
Her words were honest. More honest than he had hoped for. Really, he wanted to pretend that he could get back the life he once had, but it was ridiculous. It wasn't possible.
"What about you?" He lifted his head but kept his chin on her mattress. Her fingers still lingered in his hair. He didn't mind. "Do you ever feel like, y'know, where you're at is home?"
"I don't know," she shook her head. "My life has been weird. But... I did have it at one point. A proper home, I mean. With my grandparents. It didn't last long. That was when I actually had hobbies, but, that part of my life passed. Roderick, I lived with him for a while too. That was like a nice home."
"What about your parents? Do you have parents?"
"No? Yes?" She returned her hand to herself, deciding to pick at the bandaging as she thought about her life. "They're alive, I saw that they're doing well last time I checked. But, I don't see them as a family really. It's complicated, I'll explain more another time when I'm able to breathe a little better."
He nodded, accepting her words as he gently pulled her hands away from her picking, worried she would end up hurting herself more as he instead placed them down on her lap.
"You should rest," he said, falling back into his chair. "You rarely sleep enough, try to get some now, alright?"
"Okay... Thanks, Ryan... Really."
He smiled, seeing her sink into the bed, her eyes already tired with the sleep she rarely got. And it wasn't long until she was asleep, her breaths still heavy and enough to lull him into his own sleep beside her where he found the sound and smell of her enough to know that he was safe.