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It's a split second decision: she doesn't stop to think, she doesn't - for once - let the voice of reason convince her that she shouldn't, that coworkers that barely know each other don't simply jump into each other's arms. She just jumps, as instinctually as Miranda has opened her arms, expecting nothing less than for Robin to trust her.
Surprising even herself, Robin does.
That's why Robin is now enveloped by Miranda’s strong arms, being held against the blonde's chest and being deposited so very carefully on the warm sand.
Miranda’s arms linger a little longer than would be normal, and at the same time they leave too soon. It all lasts too little, and yet to Robin it feels like a lifetime. She can still smell Miranda’s delicate soap scent lingering around her, mixing with the saltiness of the seaside air. It is as if Robin has found something in those arms, something she didn't know she had lost.
"There you go!" comes the cheerful voice from up above her head, and Robin tries to once again focus on her job, on her professionalism, pulling her usual mask back on her face. But as she looks up, she can see a warm understanding in the deep blue eyes above her, and that shakes her even more than the unexpected hug did.
*
"What is she to you?"
Adrian looks at her accusingly from across Miranda’s hospital bed, pain and regret distorting his face. For a man who's still married to his wife while trying to build a family with Miranda, he sure doesn't make much of an effort to hide the jealousy in his voice, Robin notices.
Hypocrite. As if he was the only one allowed to care.
But Miranda wouldn't want her to lash out at him, however much Robin wants to - he was supposed to be the one directing the mission, he was the one supposed to have contingency plans and safety measures in place, he was the one who should have kept Miranda safe - so instead she focuses on his question.
What is she to you?
Robin thinks of the ease with which Miranda reached over and held her hand while they walked side by side. She thinks of the tears that they have shed together. She thinks of Miranda’s arms around her, holding her, grounding her, keeping her together. She thinks of the special, secret smile that lit up the constable's face when her eyes found Robin's from across the room.
"She's my friend." The word feels wrong in her mouth - to reduce what she had with Miranda to simple friendship feels unfair, especially now - and yet, theirs was not a romantic relationship either, was it? Miranda had Adrian, after all, and Robin...well, Robin didn't need anyone else.
"A friend she'd take a bullet for."
"As I would for her."
"I wish you had."
Robin's eyes travel along Miranda’s body, looking so uncharacteristically small under the bandages, the tubes and the wires that keep her together - that keep her alive - and finds that his words don't hurt her as he probably wanted them to.
"I wish I had too."
*
He stops visiting after a while, and Robin is both relieved and angry. Relieved not to meet him anymore - the tense silences in the hospital room wore her out more than the loneliness does - but angry, because how dare he abandon Miranda.
Word around the station is that he patched things up with his wife and Robin can't help but think how heartbroken Miranda will be when she wakes up and hears the news.
Because she's going to wake up.
Robin squeezes the long, slender hand she's holding, as Miranda used to do with hers when she could feel Robin was upset.
She's going to wake up and Robin will be there when she does.
The nurses stop trying to make Robin leave the room when visiting hours end. The people from HR stop asking her how much longer her carer's leave will be. Robin stops counting the days.
It feels as if her whole world is waiting with bated breath for Miranda to wake up.
Robin keeps holding her hand, waiting.
*
"Hey."
Miranda’s voice is rough and crackly, her lips are chapped and her cheeks are sunken in, and yet her small, tentative, tired smile is the most beautiful work of art Robin could imagine admiring, her voice the sweetest song ever heard.
She can now admit to herself that a part of her had been terrified to not be able to hear her voice, to see her smile anymore.
She squeezes that soft hand once again, and this time the long fingers wrap around hers.
"I had the weirdest dreams."
And it's such a Miranda thing to say after being in a coma for weeks on end, that Robin can't hold herself back anymore and - carefully, delicately - hugs Miranda around her shoulders, and what starts falling from her lips as a laughter quickly turns into sobs as all of her fear, her sorrow, her guilt finally come out. Miranda’s hands come trembling up - even this small movement is such an effort for her - and land on her back, soothing, comforting.
*
When the doctors clear Miranda to go back home, with strict orders not to tire herself out too much, Robin puts her foot down and convinces her to come stay at her place - only for now, she reasons, until you get your energies back.
Miranda accepts, looking at her with that soft, understanding look that makes Robin stammer and bluster and remind her that it's just because Miranda needs someone to keep her in check otherwise she would overexert herself within five minutes of being home.
Miranda doesn't say anything, and just smiles down at her, her eyes crinkling up as if they had just shared a secret joke.
That evening, when she sees Robin bringing her pillow and linens to the couch, she 's the one putting her foot down, and telling her not to be ridiculous and just come to bed.
She holds her arms open, welcoming, and as Robin curls up against her side, she can't help but think of how perfectly she fits into the blonde's embrace, and she allows herself to simply bask in the happiness that she only finds in Miranda’s arms.