Work Text:
Opening his eyes, Owner instantly felt the dizziness droning in his head. He knew that if he leaned forward or moved onto his side, or even had the strength to sit up, it'd knock him back out as quickly as it came.
He groans, attempting to sit himself up and lean against the headboard. He could feel the bandages shape around his body, maybe a little too tightly as he breathed. He looks around as he collects himself, breathing slowly. It's evening, late into the night even. The moon is peeking through the blinds, trying to see the sleeping humans and creatures in the night in all of its soft blue glow. It sneaks through the blinds in stripes and ribbons along the carpet and the bedsheets. He's awake, and he has no desire to see the moon in the sky or get out of bed either.
He does think about calling Robin, however. He can't feel his arm right now, and he's wondering if he slept on it or if it just stopped working. A wonderful thing to have. He doesn't know what time it is either, and then he thinks maybe not to call her.
He attempts to squeeze his hand, to make a fist like the physical therapist told him to do during his exercises. Owner grew tired of it every time they came in; from having to do hand exercises to smaller mind tests to standing up and walking with his rollator. He tried so hard to hold the little clothespin the doctor had given him, pinch it between his fingers and hold it still before moving on. It was hard at first because his hand would twitch and his wrist would hurt suddenly. Now it's just having and doing regular things one would do; make a fist, bend fingers so his hand was flat, wrists bending. Tiring, but Robin was there to help and encourage him when they were at her home. She’d always say "exercise time?"
He smiles lightly, tiredly but still with warmth in his cheeks did it show. He sees now that Robin isn't with him. She did say that she'd be sleeping on the couch if he needed her. He can feel the warmth in the bed becoming miserable as he's just alone in the bedroom.
His hand makes a fist, attempting to, and the fingers only twitch and shake. Owner squints and tries again. It hurts now, as his fingers act like missing frames of an animation, snap and snap and snap but no fist is made.
"What is…?" He muttered softly, squinting as he sat up straighter and looked down at his hand, the other gently cradling it under bands of bandages.
There's black on the fingertips of his middle and ring fingers. He doesn't feel it, and it's pitch black, as the moonlight isn't helping from where he’s sitting.
He lifts his other hand, and it still feels foreign as he rubs a finger against the darkness, fingers shaking as his breath sharpens. Did the stitching open last night? He doesn't feel any sharp pain currently, or maybe he's so numb still from meds that he didn't feel bleeding at all.
Robin, she'll know.
"Robin?" He calls.
It's dark in the hallway as he looks at the open bedroom door. He can't remember if she left a light on, but his mind is racing as he tries to attempt again if everything is normal.
The owner's eyes sweep over his hand again and they widen as he sees something wrong. The black…was it larger now? It was just on his tips, he knew, and now it looked to be on his fingers' prints. He huffs, he's not crazy, are his fingers bleeding, what is–
Then he sees it, the slow crawl of black racing down his fingers, consuming four and soon five of his fingers in ink darkness. The veins are being consumed as they race down first and then the skin, slowly but quickly.
The man gasps and snaps up sharply in bed, not giving any thought of his body healing, and strangles a scream in his throat. His other hand scrambles to assist, weak and ill-fated nerves in his fingers roughly scraping against the black, against poor skin, and pulling at bandages. The scream grows louder as the black crawls between his wrist and elbow, and his other hand fails him in helping.
"No, no, no, no! No, no, no, stop!" He cries, breathing wildly coming in and out as quickly as it comes. He can feel the muscle around his brain strain in agony and tired energy. His hands and arms burn with adrenaline and he can feel every trace of his ribs now as his weary lungs rise and fall too fast too quickly. "NO NO NO PLEASE STOP, STOP IT!--Robin! ROBIN!"
"Leave it alone."
He stops, fingernails burning Crescent moon's into his flesh as he looks to the doorway.
The light isn't on and the moonlight is his only savior. The remaining warmth in bed is now cold against his body, and the black is everywhere now.
But he looks down at a certain shape and for a moment he wonders if he's out of his body now, out of his element as his heart is beating rapidly.
In-between the doorway are two white stocks sitting just in the moonlight, bathed in the blue of it that peeked through. Two, twisted feet and shins.
"It should heal on its own," the voice droned. "Leave it alone."
But that's not what he's worried about, not of himself, not of the black now.
Between the twisted feet that he now sees are curled on their sides, is a bit of torn, blue fabric, dotted with sparkled tears and dark blood. It sits in between, unmoving.
His breath is caught in his throat, his heart is going mad and the darkness is eating at him in dots now.
“No…you're not real,” he whispered, the truth burning and leaving him shaking.
He looks to the darkness in the doorway, away from the two strange shapes below, and says sharply now at a face he wished to never imagine again. “I killed you.”
There's a breath of silence as the words left him. No winds are howling outside. No trees are hitting one another or tapping the windows. There are no creaks of the house snoring in the night.
Nothing.
It takes five strides for the feet to reach his bed, for the blue dress to swish and unfurl itself from the darkness as it clothes a broken and torn body of a mutilated image of a woman, her face gone, her arms and nerves and bones like the very dead trees of winter, split and growing, reaching towards him in the very quick and deadpan strides towards him, no creaks made no bend of the floorboards to hear as she finds him again, as she reaches to him, she's coming to get him, she's sCREAMING HIS NAME HIS NAME HIS NAME HIS NAME THROUGH BROKEN AND STRIPPED VOCAL CORDS AS SHES COMING TO GET ME AS THE PAIN BURNS HER IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT AS SHE IS NOTHING MORE THAN TORN FLESH AND INNARDS.
as her face mirrors his horror and death once she's upon him.
The thought of Rosemary and Robin somewhere safer than here is smashed as her scream fills his ears and head.
"OWN-NER! YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME!"
Owner gasps as he wakes up once more, his body seizing in the soft bed as though he came up from water. He coughs sharply, as his breath was caught in his throat and his lungs constrained his breathing as he slept. He’s trying to sit up but his body shakes and his arms burn with aches and pains under his weight. The man peeks through his squinting eyes and sees he’s in Robin's room again, but the light is on out in the hallway, and it’s not so suffocating here.
He hears footsteps as he grips the sheets to breathe, trying to lift himself again.
“Owner? Owner! Hey hey hey!” Robin calls as she turns on the lamp in the room, and crosses straight to him as he’s in a coughing fit. She shoves the rollator away that’s next to the bed and grabs onto his shoulders as he’s having trouble leaning up again. “Come on, it's ok.”
Her hand slips under his backside and he's able to sit up, whereas Robin pulled back the rollator so he could grab it to lean on. The man coughs as he leans against the back bar of the rollator, hiccups, and swallows while his back burns and sweat peeks through the bandages. Robin’s hand is running up and down his spine, careful to avoid the two large, healing holes in his back.
She listens as he coughs and tries to focus on his breathing as she showed him before, and she doesn’t speak as she holds his aching hand. Robin can feel him shake as he’s not under the covers anymore, and she moves her hand to press it against his neck and forehead. He flinches and she apologizes, telling him that it's okay again and again as he calms down.
There’s a beat of silence as Owner swallows down his nerves, as his chest lets him breathe and he leans back a bit to sit up straighter. He feels Robin's hand run slowly along his back before turning to look at her as the lamp sits behind them.
He sees how tired she is and can feel it too as he realizes how much that dream took out of him. He can feel his bones ache, and his eyes droop. His muscles burned to lay back down. But under it all…he feels bad for waking her up. He feels bad for everything that was going on right now.
His face must have shown it for Robin asked, “how are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”
Owner wants to swallow it all down again, like the medication pills he’s meant to take, or the pain he feels when he can't do certain things. He feels tired. He feels disappointed. He feels useless.
“Everything hurts…” he says softly.
Robin’s eyebrows knitted together, as her hand brushes gently against a bit of flesh. “Owner?”
He looks at her again, and he can’t hide it.
“What’s wrong?”
He swallows and holds his arms out to her, needing a hug. Robin's eyebrows knit further and she accepts his offer, her hands and arms around his burning and tired body carefully, his arms and hands on either side of her waist. He leans into her and sighs, the warm sensation now burning behind his eyes.
"I'm so sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to wake you up."
"No, no, no," she said softly. "You didn't. You really didn't."
"But I did. I fucking screamed, didn't I? I…I..."
She heard him shutter and let him cry into her shoulder. Robin hugged him tightly, her lips curling because she couldn't bear to see someone cry, much less him. He's healing, he's doing so good. This is just one of the moments that'll happen, that's all it is. She still supports him through and through.
Her hand reaches up and runs through his hair, careful of bandages and hearing him sigh softly. "Owner?"
He hums.
"What happened, whatever happened, it had to have been scary. It was only a dream, sadly a dream that scared you so badly. It was only a dream, is all I can tell you. But I'm not mad at you at all, I want you to know that. Don't think once that I'm upset or annoyed that your nightmare made me come in here; I chose to do that," Robin said, pushing her tears back. "I chose it because I care about you. I worry about you and your health and I want to see you be better, to heal better. Don't think I'm going to ignore it, we just… we just won't talk about it now, but know I am here to talk about it anytime you want. I am also in this with you. Ok?"
There's a pause before he hums again.
"Can I see your face?"
He pulls away and she reaches after him to wipe his eyes. He chuckles and she giggles. "See I'm taking care of you!"
"I know I know and I'm…so thankful for you and your patience Robin," he said. "I just feel like I'm not doing much lately."
Robin nods. "As in exercises or around the house?"
"I've done exercises. Because you told me to and that I had to. I just…feel stuck that I can't help you with things on the shelf or get the mail for you."
"Oh Owner," she said softly, cupping his cheek. He replies by leaning into her touch. "Honestly you'll have those moments. Everyone has them, especially at the stage we're in. It…it's hard, I know. But you are doing good, and I don't see that this part of you is a bother to me, because it's not!" She said with no actual harsh tone to her voice. “It’s not.”
He nodded, letting an inhale come in a little too sharply.
"How about this? We can go out tomorrow. I take you and Rosie to the park! It is getting a bit stuffy in this apartment." Robin said, looking around before going back to him again.
“That…that would be nice,” he smiled.
Comfortable silence sits between them, as he takes deep breaths to regain his composure. Robin nods, holding his hand as he breathes in and out slowly.
“Thank you, Robin,” he said softly.
“Of course,” she said. She carefully brushes a few hair strands out of his eyes, and he lets a soft smile fill his face.
More silence between them, as Owner looks at her after that exchange, and feels this wash of warmth come over him. Not in a million years would he see himself in this state, much less get there if there was an option. But seeing it now, living it now…with this new lifestyle and with how things are and with how Robin still accepts him…he can’t help but feel the warmth fill him whole now.
“Robin?”
She hums.
“I…as soon as I get out of these bandages… as soon as I can walk without that thing… I want to repay you somehow.”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to. I really want to.” Owner said. “Please.”
Robin looks at him again, lips pursuing. “You really don’t have to. Just let me take care of you and that can be all.”
Owner shook his head. “No. I’m going to do something for you, even if I have to think about it all of my time recovering. Just you wait, I’ll be planning. Because I care about you too and I want to repay it back.”
Robin laughed then, face getting red and shaking her head. “...Guess I’ll have to wait for that day.”
Owner nodded, grasping both her hands. “Yes. For I will show you that you matter so much to me in helping me and understanding me, that without you I just don’t know what would happen to me. And that I am crazily, madly in lov-“
“Mom?”
The two adults turn, best they can, to see the little child in the doorway. Rosemary was clinging to the door, hiding best she could. Save for the plushie frog she had stuck to her side like it was superglued.
“Hi sweetie,” Robin called, before glancing to Owner to see if it was ok if she could come in. He nodded and she waved her over. “Come on, it's ok, Rose.”
The sound of waddling was made and the child was in her mom's arms, picked up so easily. Owner pushed his cart over to her so she could sit in the seat. Her legs dangled over the edge in clothed dinosaur print, hair sticking wildly here and there.
“Hi Rosemary,” Owner said.
“Hi,” she said, fiddling with the frog's arm. She glanced up at him and her eyes were so big, always. “…why were you yelling?”
“Rosemary,” Robin stated.
“She’s fine. She’s just curious,” he said softly. He swallowed and coughed a bit.
“Here, I’ll get you a glass of water,” Robin said, standing up and quickly overlooking Owner again. “You’re not burning up anymore so that’s good. Anything else, you two? Do you need any meds? Are you in pain?”
Owner shook his head, Rosemary chirping. “Can I have water too? Please?”
“Sure honey, two waters,” Robin gave a half smile, waving a two in front of them before leaving to go to the kitchen.
Owner turned to Rosemary, his arms coming close to rest on either side of the bars so she wouldn’t push too far from him as she swung her legs. “You heard me screaming?”
Rosemary nodded, swinging one leg and twisting a bit in the seat. “I heard you yelling and I saw Mom get up. I didn’t know what was going on…”
The owner's eyebrows crinkled. “I wasn’t yelling, Rosemary. I…I was having a bad dream is all.” he then turns and leans back to rest on the pillows, tired of sitting up straight. “I’d never yell at all. Not around you guys or anyone I care about.”
He then sees that she wants to join him, her arms out, begging to be lifted, so he sits back up and tries to help/ pull her onto him as carefully as he can. He shouldn't be picking her up, but it's fine, it's not for long and he places her in the crook of his arm, where she can't burden weight onto his chest.
Owner looked down at the child, who was grinning now that she was next to him. “How long were you standing there before we noticed you?”
“For long enouf!” She exclaimed, quoting the same tone as her mother while maneuvering herself to get comfortable. She nearly kicks the man in the jaw. “I heard everything.”
“Oh really? Then did you hear where the jar of jellybeans is hidden?”
“…no?”
Owner shrugs. “Then I guess you won’t find them. More for me I suppose.”
Rosemary frowns, hatred filling her. She will remember this. Her hands are thinking about grabbing the two hairy caterpillars on his face again. But she doesn’t as she thinks back to why she got up. “…You had a bad dream?”
“Mmm-hmm. A really bad one,” he said, as he pushed her frog into her arms. There's no black on his hand now, and there never was any.
“What was it about?” She says, grabbing his hand carefully with her tiny hand.
He can’t tell her. She would never understand, nor is it ok for him to be talking about it after having the dream. He doesn’t want to think about it either way.
He picks at his words as he rubs her tiny fingers. "Well…it was about you two. You and your mother. And it got so scary that I feared you both were going to be taken from me. That's why I woke up the way I did. I didn't mean to scare you, Rosie, I promise."
The owner stays silent now, thinking maybe that wasn't the best thing to say to a sleepy toddler until Rosemary said “...I had dreams Mom was taken from me too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah…it was a monster that always got her,” Rosemary said, rubbing her face against her frog. “I hated it. Was it a monster that took me and Mom?”
“...It was. I hated it too.” Owner said softly.
He felt her shift and he glanced at her again, seeing her curled up and closing her eyes. She yawned and blinked her little eyelashes once or twice. "Can I stay here so no monsters can come in again?"
He nodded. "Of course. I wonder what your Mom will say though."
Rosemary grumbled and yawned again. Her eyes closed and instantly she was knocked out, face sunken into his arm as if gravity had overcome her. He chuckled, figuring there was no moving her now.
Robin came back in and gasped at the sight, before mouthing "is she ok?" Owner said that she was fine and that Rosemary had wanted to sleep next to him anyways.
"Aww ok," Robin said, before looking at the second drink and sighing. "She won't know I took a sip. It's fine."
She took a sip or two and helped Owner sit up to take a drink of his, feeling his throat clear and the dryness of it leaving him. It still felt sore from his screams but what else can you do?
"Thank you."
"Of course," Robin smiled before saying. "You sure you want her in here? I just want to make sure."
He nodded. "She'd get upset if she found out I wasn't next to her."
"Ok, if you don't mind then." Robin stood up after helping Owner lean back into a comfortable spot, also moving the sleeping child back to a spot where she was comfortable and near him on the bed. "Anything else you need?"
Owner took a moment, before saying "I wouldn't mind if...you stayed in here also than out there."
Robin stared at him, whether it was through tiredness or the slow realization, her face warmed a soft red now as her eyes widened just a little bit.
Owner saw her pause and stammered "only if you want to-"
"-No, No, I can-"
"-it-its fine you don't have to if you don't want to."
"Owner," Robin said softly. They both stopped as both of their hearts jumbled from the awkwardness, Robin taking a moment to word her very simple thoughts. "I don't mind. It…I think it would be safer in case anything would happen again."
Owner nodded. "Yes. That and…I know you wanted to sleep out there to give me privacy but…I honestly feel more lonely.”
Robin felt defeated by that last phrase that left him. She never wanted to make him feel alone and she was only sleeping out there for yes, privacy and safety for himself in case she accidentally slept on him or if he tore something in his sleep, anything. She hugged him once more, tightly no matter the bandages or bruises or broken bones that are still mending, and went out to turn off the light in the living room. She gathered her blanket and folded it up, getting an idea as she was doing so. She came back and scooped up Rosemary, telling Owner to sit up. Owner eyed her as she pulled one of the extra pillows behind him to place between him and her, as she laid down in her bed. Rosemary laid against her chest as she situated herself.
She peeked over the pillow barrier, to which Owner was still taller than the barrier to see her completely, and said “so you don’t wiggle around!”
“Makes sense,” he said, adjusting himself to lie down without the molded pillow slope he made. “Good night, Robin.”
“Night!”
Silence granted them both after Robin turned the light off, the soft sounds of cars passing by, and the wind blowing off of the building's walls. The owner's heart beat wildly and he swallowed, in fear of falling asleep again. He closed his eyes and relaxed.
Atop the sheets and past the pillow barrier, he felt the brush of Robin's fingers, as her hand gently laid against his, soft slender fingers against rough, patched ones. A breath he didn’t know he was holding let itself go, and he slowly fell deeper and deeper into sleep.
Robin however stayed up a little longer, staring at the ceiling and lights going by on the wall from the street. She wanted to make sure Owner was sleeping without terror. It didn’t sound like it now. She’ll have to write this down later, she told herself, something to tell the doctor in the morning. And the small thought of Owner doing something for her in the future…she can only imagine as that bit warmed her face, a bit of heat behind her eyes now. Rosemary muttered in her sleep and Robin looked down at her with a content smile, sniffing to herself.
They’ll talk about it in the morning, but for now, it’s very late for anyone to be up.