"Robin, you look- what's wrong? Did something happen?"
"I-"
She fell, her body collapsing onto the couch beside Roderick who immediately sat up, noticing the teary-eyed state of the girl too fragile for a world as harsh as it was to her.
The room was a mess, not quite on the same level as her own home was, but it had a similar feeling. The same paper smell that blended with too much coffee, the same files scattered where they could fit, dust, untouched by a man not home long enough to think of it as a worry. It was a place that didn't look very much like Roderick, then again, he didn't look like Roderick to most people. He came off as clean, organised and always knowing. He was rarely knowing. Clever, sure. But not knowing. He was just a man trying his best to prove a world wrong.
Robin thought she was strong once, that she could handle any situation. In reality, it was the glue that held her together that was strong. She crumbled, but the glue she used to piece herself back, the lack of care, the knowledge that things wouldn't often go right and the expectancy that it wouldn't, that was stronger than she could be. And only now, once the glue wore away, chipping to nothing, she was left crumbling and fragile, turning to dust. She wasn't who she thought she was, she was never really Hazel White.
"What happened?" Roderick sat by her, placing a delicate hand on her back as she burrowed herself into the pillows.
"Ryan said he likes me," she said, voice muffled, "and- and I like him- really really actually."
"But?"
"But he hates me. I'm Hazel White, I ruined his life, I took away his home, I got his dad arrested for fifty years! Fifty!" She shook, holding the pillows too tightly in a sharp grip. "I- I left my things with him. My bag. My ID, my notebook. Everything."
Roderick's eyes widened.
"Robin, that's-"
"I don't care how dangerous," she pushed herself up, exposing her wet eyes and shaking lips, "if he wants to ruin my life, I'll let him. I ruined his. But..."
Roderick sank, shaking his head at the situation. He once wanted to be a dad, he still did. He forgot that it would involve this.
"C'mere," he gestured with a flick of his head and she sank into the side of him, letting her hug him like he did when she used to call him Uncle Roderick despite there being no blood connection but a strong sense of family. "I'm sure it will be fine. I'm- I'm sure it'll work out."
She nodded.
How long had it been since she left him? Twenty minutes? Was that long enough for him to read? Or was it too long? Was it long enough for him to read and then call the media, a newspaper, a-
She threw herself away from Roderick as her phone vibrated.
"Hello?" She gasped into the phone.
"Hazel."
Oh.
"Archie," she sank and Roderick watched all of her hopes fade again as she prepared to make new glue to piece herself together with. Lack of care, lack of hope, low expectations. That was all it took, and she was fully prepared to go back to that once the case was over, once it ended and she could forget this life ever happened. "What's up?"
Roderick noticed how easily she caught her voice, how easily she made herself sound as normal as ever, like she wasn't wiping continuous streams of tears from her eyes as she spoke.
"I just thought I'd let you know that nothing is missing, not as far as I can tell at least. But I can't be sure, this would need to be something you double check at some point."
"Is all of the evidence there?"
"I think so? Hold on, I'll find the notes," he stopped, unknowing of her state as he searched through boxes. "Ah, I'll bring it to you tomorrow. There are boxes everywhere."
"Okay..." She sighed, feeling herself sink. Why? Why would whoever this is break in and not take everything? She almost hoped things were gone just so it would make some sense. "I need to go. Let me know if anything else happens and be careful please."
"Alright, take care, Hazy."
"You too."
The call ended and the phone dropped from her hand, hitting the floor with a short thud before she fell with it, sprawling out as she stared up at the ceiling.
What now?
It didn't make sense. She still couldn't imagine any scenario where this made sense. But her brain was breaking. She didn't know what was what, she could barely figure out what two plus two was without counting on her fingers. Her brain wasn't her own anymore, but she didn't know who it belonged to, Hazel or Robin? Maybe neither.
"Rob-"
Her phone vibrated again. And much slower this time, she picked it up, holding it to her ear as she curled up on the ground beside the coffee table, preparing for whatever disappointment was going to hit her this time.
"Hello...?"
"Tweetie- uh- Hazel? What? What the hell?"
"Oh God."
"That's not a good start."
She sank, panicking. She didn't know what she was going to do now, she never prepared for what she could possibly say in response to everything. It felt hopeless, she felt hopeless. She wanted to help him, keep him calm and safe from a life that always seemed cruel to him, but how was she supposed to do that when she was keeping him from that?
"Ryan, please," The panic turned into frantic words desperate to get off of her tongue. Roderick watched, seeing that she didn't hide the fact that she was clearly distressed. "I'm really really sorry and if you hate me, I totally get it. And if you decide to tell people who I am, that's okay too, I really don't mind. I'm sorry-"
"Oi."
She stopped. Her fast thought words that spurred out coming to a halt like a frozen fountain.
"I was going to say thanks. But since you seem to think I would even consider telling people, I'm gonna say... fuck you. And thanks... Damn, look at that, I was trying not to swear so much anymore, but you made me."
"No, no I can't do this again." She shook her head, pushing herself up to flee to the spare room Roderick had prepared for her. "Please be upset at me. It's deserved."
"Okay, I change my mind," he said. "Fuck you, fuck you, thanks. In that order."
She fell silent, realising that if she said anything else, it would only result in the list of 'fuck you's growing longer.
"Right. I'm gonna talk. You're gonna listen."
"Okay."
She stood in her room, noticing how the things she had even while she lived with Roderick were still there. A poster of a cat wearing a teddy bear costume, a pink shirt that no longer fit her, papers sprawled out on the desk covered in writing, but none of it was work, almost all of them recipes handed to her by her grandfather, some of them her own. It barely changed. It felt young, innocent, like it was never really her room because she had changed so much from who she was then.
She tried to calm herself as fast as she could, but her steps quickened, her pacing became a little more frantic as she listened to Ryan.
"I read your notebook and I was pissed. I still am a bit. Like, what the fuck, who even are you?"
"I-"
"Listen."
"Sorry."
"I saw that we were suspects? What the hell? Dude, Jason was an idiot but he was my friend. That guy was too pretty to hurt, honestly... and just so we're clear, I still think you're prettier. But," he cleared his throat, "then, I kept reading, and I saw that you didn't actually suspect us all that much and- you know, you use that thing like a diary, don't you? There was a whole page dedicated to a cat you saw once? What's up with that? But, I saw that we were kinda being framed? Are we? That's scary."
"...Ryan..."
"I'm not done yet. You're not allowed to use that voice with me again yet."
"Okay."
"Leo knows who you are doesn't he? You wrote about it and you said that it checks out. Is that true- man, I keep getting off track. I was gonna say, I appreciate you trusting me with this. And no, I'm not angry about the shit with my dad. Kinda grateful, honestly. I don't know what my life would have been like if he was still in it, but it wouldn't be good. You can talk now."
"...Are you okay?"
"...Yeah. Mostly." He sighed. "We did all of this in the worst way possible. I'm still shaking over the fact that you like me. But also, you know, this. I feel, I don't know, confused? Everything's bundled into one big ball of feelings."
She understood. She didn't know how to feel either. The thrill of knowing for sure that he liked her the same way she liked him made her stomach flip, the fact that she was talking to him now and not frantically trying to fight off the media was relieving. But it was frightening. It wasn't quite the same as when Leo found out, that was less intentional, this was her own doing and it felt so much scarier.
"Just, before anything else," She gathered her mind as best as she could, "I want you to know that I tried not to lie. Everything I said about my life was true, except I didn't go to school in the North at all and haven't been to school in years now. My name is Robin, but it's Robin Merez, not Hemms."
"Oh thank God, I was trying to come up with a nickname for 'Hazel' but I came up with nothing."
"That's not how nicknames work, they're meant to be organic."
"Ay, keep this up and I'll start calling you 'Organic'."
"Please don't."
"Alright, Organic."
"So..." she glanced around, realising that she was laying on her bed, though, she didn't remember getting there. The conversation was so engulfing, she couldn't think of anything else. "Are we... okay...?"
"Almost."
"Almost?"
"I have a lot of complaints. You didn't even technically go to our school yet you still did most of my homework, are you mad or do you just like to suffer? Why were you so obvious? Like, now I think about it, you were really obvious. I'm so disappointed that you don't actually work in the cafe, you-" He stopped, "okay, no I'm just rambling at this point. I think this entire conversation was just me rambling."
"That's okay," she let out a long breath, still not entirely able to wrap her mind around what was happening. She thought that maybe she needed time to figure it out, maybe he needed time to come to terms with the fact that she was a liar. "Just-"
She stopped herself, unsure. She didn't know how to feel, how much of herself to show, whether she should be Hazel or Robin or Tweetie. There were so many versions of herself that were clashing. Hazel was a steady thinker, reckless but sure, always certain, always there in the moment. Robin was weak, but she was soft, or was she naive? She was a runaway, helplessly terrified. Always running. But who was Tweetie? Young? Innocent? Herself? She didn't know, she didn't know if she would until that part of her was gone. But she didn't want it gone like she didn't want her skin to renew her into a new person anymore. She just wanted to come to terms with it. She felt like the two-headed monster that she was had grown another head and now she saw more, things were so much more confusing.
"What's up? You gonna finish that thought, or...?"
"Just, please don't call me Hazel. I- I really don't want to be her."
"Of course." He agreed within only a second. Whether it was because he didn't want to call her Hazel or whether he was accepting that she didn't want to be Hazel, she didn't know. "...Are you still disappearing for a while?"
"Yeah."
"Okay... is that because of, y'know, detective stuff- wait."
She waited, hearing a flick of paper. He was still looking through her things even as he walked.
Then she waited longer.
"You've been getting threats this entire time?" His voice rose, but, he seemed to try to keep it as level as he could. "Like, actual threats!?"
"Kinda..."
"Why didn't you say- wait. That was a stupid question, ignore that. Is that why you're gone? You're like, hiding?"
"Yeah... My house was broken into again today."
"What!?"
"Could you do me a favour?" She hummed, her voice growing wearier as the night lingered for longer and longer. His rise in volume did nothing and she easily brushed his shock away.
It was still reasonably early, it hadn't even hit eight yet. But she was exhausted. Everything was exhausting her. The fact there was still so much for her to do was wearing her out, forcing her eyelids to feel particularly heavy. Staying awake wasn't easy.
"Anything... as long as it's not, y'know, weird."
"Ew, no, never- oh god, I still need to talk to you about that-"
"About what?"
"Doesn't matter right now, don't worry. But, while I'm gone, could you do me a favour and maybe try really hard to stay out of trouble? I don't want you guys to be hurt in all of this, but I'm scared you might be."
"...This sounds weirdly serious, is this serious?"
"Very. I think someone's trying to frame you guys..."
"Oh damn."
There was a silent pause, quiet enough for her to hear that he was still walking. Where, she wasn't entirely sure. But it seemed like it was still outside where there was barely life but enough to be heard. Passing cars, wind blowing, sniffing nose to fight the cold.
"Do the others know?"
"Only Leo, but he figured it out, I never actually told him."
"What? How'd he figure it out!?"
"He realised after it came out that I was only eighteen. I've not exactly been very subtle."
"That makes sense, thinking about it. I can't imagine anyone but him figuring this sort of thing out but... Are you going to tell the others?"
"I should," she knew that at this point, it would be cruel not to. It felt selfish. "That's gonna be hell to do."
"I could, if you want? I mean, I'm on my way to see them, I have your stuff. I could explain. If Leo and I are okay with it, I'm positive they will be."
"That's a lot to ask of you."
"Clearly you already have a lot. I want to help, Tweetie. I still really like you, none of this is gonna make me forget how much you've helped me."
"Only if you're sure. Don't do it if you don't want to, please. It's not fair to make everyone else do things for me, I need to deal with things."
"Tweetie, seriously, you've dealt with enough."
She didn't say anything. She disagreed, but, she wasn't going to argue about it. Not now, not with Ryan. She knew how to be a different person when she needed to, how to arrange her thoughts in a way to prioritise one thing and distract from another. She felt like she deserved so much worse. She only knew the guilt of running away, of hiding from her problems. Her problems, her work, her issues, her parents. It was too much.
"I'm guessing you need your stuff back?"
"Ah, yeah... I won't be leaving the house for a while though- could you leave it with Stewart? I'll ask Archie to pick it up for me."
"Sure," he agreed with a warm voice, soft, breathy. It wasn't how she imagined this conversation going. She expected more aggravation from both sides, but, there was none and she was drenched with both relief and upset, upset that once again, she wasn't facing consequences. "I'm gonna tell the guys. Is that okay?"
"That's... okay."
"Can I still call you?"
"Of course." She wasn't sure if her voice was mimicking his own softness because she was on the verge of falling asleep or because she genuinely felt soft. "I'm... gonna have to go. I can't stay awake."
"Rest well, Tweetie."
"Bye, Ryan. Thank you."