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Finn’s bedroom window, uncomfortably open, let in gasps of the wind as the breeze rang out like a train whistle. It wasn’t raining, no, but it sure sounded like it. Finn’s eyes rang between the other two people in the room- his bedroom- who were laughing at something or other. Gwen: his sister, his number one supporter, the person who was with him despite, well, everything. And Robin: his best friend, the cool guy who wanted to hang with him, the (second?) toughest kid in school, and– his everything.
Gwen was going to be there for the night after an incident that afternoon. An incident with a rope and a branch and Finn’s stupid failure, that ended with the other two having to jump in to save the day— to save his life.
Robin, having climbed in through the window and now being covered in goosebumps, was beside the siblings whilst he had a conversation with Gwen. He was going to be staying the night, too— an in the moment decision, but a fair one nonetheless— but didn’t have anything with him.
With a huff, Finn meandered to his closet and struck out one of his jackets. He threw it over to Robin, who caught it with one hand whilst still talking and facing Gwen. Her mouth fell open almost comically, making Finn scowl at his best friend. He almost seemed as shocked as Gwen was, but he kept it hidden under a guise of sly coolness (Finn saw straight through it).
Robin slid on the jacket and immediately shivered, before slumping rather dramatically onto the bed behind him. Gwen snorted, hunching her eyebrows.
“Tired, are you?” she remarked, and, although she was being obviously sarcastic, Robin responded correspondingly.
“Yes. I’ve been running around all day for—” he struck out a finger in Finn’s direction, like he had committed some crime, “him. And before that I was at school, so.”
Robin seemed to have struck a memory inside of Gwen, and Finn assumed it was the same situation they didn’t tell him about earlier: how she, apparently, had punched the boy in the gut. Finn gently walked over to his best friend and sat, upright, next to him, still facing Gwen.
“How did you know I was there?” he asked, not specifically asking either one of the two. By ‘there’ he obviously meant the woods, his neck tied around a noose.
The atmosphere in the room immediately shifted, and Finn could feel Robin's eyes on the back of his neck, stinging almost protectively. Gwen swallowed, looking at the ground. He picked at the base of his thumb.
A moment passed, like they were all processing what was said.
“Well— I had a… feeling,” Gwen murmured, and she met Finn’s eye.
He knew what she meant, though. She had either a dream or one of her visions, but they both knew saying that out loud wouldn’t go down well with Robin. They’d been scared their entire lives of people knowing, scared that they may call her a freak, scared that they may hurt her— like Terrance did. Does.
Robin’s tongue outlined his gums and he, too, failed to look at Finn. Robin swallowed, and Finn could practically see his mind whirring. His memory of the moment was rather blurry, but he knew that Robin had gotten there before Gwen did, knew that he had been screaming and crying. He knew that Robin had tried to get him down, but that it didn’t work. Finn knew, against all odds, that he had witnessed Robin at his lowest, and it was all his fault.
“I just got worried, I guess. You weren’t at school for a couple days and— man, Finn, I know you wouldn’t run away like that. So I told Showalter to cover—” Robin began, but Finn cut him off.
“Showalter? Billy Showalter— as in Paperboy? One of the missing kids?” Finn slurred out urgently, and Robin’s eyes flung open. As if he just realised— the idiot only just realised!
“Oh shit, yeah!” Robin was slowly getting louder now, his mouth forming the shape of an O. How did he only know now? Come to think of it, Finn wasn’t aware of how the boys existed in the basement after their deaths; had they been there all together, clumped, which meant that all five of them were with him? God, he wanted to know, but Robin was his only source of finding out. And he didn’t want to stir up some unfortunate memories if he had the choice. He gulped.
“Oh shit— I tried to fight him,” Robin muttered, but this time it was mostly to himself. That didn’t stop Finn from picking up on it, though.
“You what? Robin, he saved my fucking life!” Finn exclaimed, and Robin smiled sheepishly.
So— that probably meant he knew that already, right? So he was there to witness Finn’s conversation with Paperboy. Don’t go upstairs. Fuck, that was obvious now.
“Okay, okay, I’m really confused right now,” Gwen suddenly piped up, and the two boys looked at her with nervously apprehensive gazes.
She doesn’t want to know, they both non-verbally communicated to each other, their eyes the messenger. She could hardly take the brief summary of what happened, how would she manage with the details of their torture?
“Yeah, Gwen, it’s fine. Basement stuff,” Finn replied, receiving a you sure? look from his sister. He nodded, and she brought her lips into a firm line.
Finn slowly turned back to Robin, who smiled nervously. With a smile like that, Finn’s regrets were dripping away, and he was reminded why he brought Robin back in the first place. He smiled back.
“Yeah, sorry man. Thought he did some shit, it doesn’t matter,” Robin said, his voice as cool as ice. Finn nodded at him, and then an awkward silence filled the room, drowning him faster than his own secrets, regrets and worries did.
Finn jumped onto the thing Robin said earlier.
“You told Showalter to cover?” Finn repeated his best friend's words, whose eyes lit up.
“Yeah! So I could find you!” he exclaimed. Gwen’s howling laughter filled the air.
“You— pff— you left school to find Finn?” she teased, and Robin gaped at her.
“Yeah! What would you have done?”
“Well— I don’t know! Beat up those fuckers who beat him up?”
Robin smiled a wolfish grin, like Gwen had just said something he wanted her to say and he was about to prove a point.
“I did that! Wow, Gwen, I think I like you better than—”
“Guys! Jesus Christ,” Finn sighed, not particularly wanting Robin to finish his sentence. Because he knew Robin liked him better than Gwen! Obviously.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, burying his face in his palms. If Robin was to stay the night, then he’d have to stay in his clothes. God, he would stink in the morning. He’d know.
He then paused, a halt in the movement of his thumbs, and brought his hands down near his thigh. He looked at Gwen who was, for some reason, making funny faces at Robin. Fuck, they were going to start pissing him off if they kept—
Gwen grabbed at Robin’s wrist and swatted him down, an offended shriek being omitted from the boy like a fire alarm.
“For God’s sake! Robin, don’t you dare,” he warned, putting a finger up at his friend sternly. Robin’s hand was already halfway through the air when he stopped, very well on course to have whacked Gwen straight in the face. She was smirking, and her eyes were so clear in her emotions that he read her like a book: my elder brother protects me, dunce face. He scowled at her.
Robin then pouted like a sick puppy. But, with that stupidly smug look on Gwen’s face, Finn simply didn’t have the energy to care anymore. With a sigh (he was not going to enjoy the earful he’d get from Gwen after this, but he was sure that he’d enjoy the look on her face) he nodded to Robin, and he switched from sad to ecstatic within moments.
Robin’s hand swung through the air, a claw of fury and frustration, and collided swiftly with Gwen’s face. A thwack ran in the room, and, surprisingly, he heard Robin’s satisfied cackle before Gwen’s howling yells. Only just moments before though, as soon after Finn’s ears were ringing.
“Oh fuck! Robin, what the actual fuck!” Gwen spat, but her words were not only laced with anger, but blood. Her mouth was bleeding. Finn’s eyes widened immediately, and Robin’s hands flew to his mouth. She wasn’t crying, but she looked like she wanted to chop Robin’s head off right at that moment.
Robin moved quicker than Finn did, his movements swift like his punches.
“Shit, Gwen, I’m sorry! Shit, shit, shit,” he repeated. His eyes were blazing and he had pulled an arm around Finn’s sister, tender and loving, and, well, brotherly.
Gwen cringed at him, her teeth showing stained red like she had painted them. Finn gulped.
“Guess it’s even now,” Gwen moped, hair falling in front of her face.
Just as Robin was about to coo her once more, Finn stepped forwards and waved his hands in front of her, catching her attention by a flick of the wrist.
“Gwen! Don’t tell dad! Here, you can hit me instead!” Finn ushered. Gwen’s frantic features quickly cooled and lost their tenseness, and a knowing smirk was adopted onto her face once more.
“I can hit you? You won’t get mad?” she asked. Robin suddenly whipped his head towards Finn, his face concerned. Finn just waved him off. Meanwhile, one of Gwen’s teeth seemed to have dislodged inside her mouth as she spat it out, covered in blood and spit.
All three of them repulsed at the sight, and Robin fetched a towel from the side of Finn’s room to wrap it up. He was gentle with it, folding it over and pulling the fabric at its corners, before laying it in his lap. He looked up, as if confirming for the others that they may continue, a pleased look on his features.
Finn almost laughed, but his joy was cut off by a blazing sucker punch to the face.
His head snapped back as he let out a low groan, his hands darting to his cheek, where he had been smacked. Finn saw Robin, between the gaps of his fingers, drop his mouth open in shock, head whipping from Gwen back to Finn. Then, he launched himself forwards, his hands flipping towards Finn’s face, but Gwen knocked them off course with one foul swoop.
“You can’t touch him, you idiot,” Gwen reminded, her words slurring. She probably needed a drink of water, Finn thought, pain pulsating through him. A drizzle of blood stuck to the side of her face. He hadn’t been punched in a while, but this was a sick reminder of the familiar sting.
Robin, frowning, opened his mouth and then closed it. Once he’d finally seemed to decide what to say, he did so with a massive bite of snark.
“So this is normal for you two?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. It was moments like these when Finn was obviously reminded that Robin had no siblings (his multitude of cousins didn’t count, for obvious reasons, and Robin only saw them once a month or so. Or would have.) It was obvious why he let Gwen punch him. He didn’t want her snitching to Terrence— it evened the deal!
Gwen smiled, blood falling from her mouth.
“He offers himself to get punched a lot, yes.” she grinned stupidly. Robin seemed to have had enough with her oral redness because he finally huffed and whipped down the room, opening the door, before leaving and coming back with a glass of water no longer than twenty seconds later.
“I do not,” Finn retorted, still nursing his bruise.
Gwen seemed to consider something for a moment, muttering a small, “yes, you do, you chicken,” under her breath whilst her eyes trailed Robin as he walked to the length of the room. Finn pouted, drawing her attention back to him. She scowled, before quietly mumbling, “sorry, didn’t mean it,”.
She decided upon whatever was going on in her head, because, after a large gulp of water, she set her glass down and held her chin up highly.
“Robin,” she began, snatching the boys gaze away from Finn’s face and injury back to her, “why the fuck do you know where our bathroom is?” She asked. Finn froze, his eyes widening being the only part of his body that moved. Robin seemed to do the same thing, however his was much more comical and laced with panic.
He chuckled nervously.
“I… guessed?” He answered, but that blatant lie was not good enough for the girl as she held up a bony finger and gestured for him to try again. Robin deflated with his nerves.
“Fine. I’ve been here before. Many times,” he explained truthfully. Gwen obviously gritted her teeth at that, and Finn could practically see the cogs whirring in her head, the raging and roaring thoughts that were being broadcasted in the scapes of her mind. Or how many cuss words she was throwing at him right about now.
“How many?” She fumed. Finn was surprised her voice was audible with how hard she would have been grinding her teeth against each other right about now.
Robin turned to Finn for help, desperation winging in his eyes. How many times had he been over? Honestly, Finn didn’t know if the figure in this universe was the same as the one in their original one: if they were closer or had a lesser bond. In his universe, Robin had really only gone over when Finn needed a distraction from his dad, since Robin knew how much of a hitter that he was, or if Robin had gotten paranoid over a few of the kids at school who had beat him up. Robin stayed a whole night after Moose gave him a bloody nose, but he covered it up with homework. Finn bought it then, but now he wasn’t so blind.
Finn simply shrugged at his best friend, who suddenly turned to panic and then acceptance. He smiled awkwardly at Gwen. She lunged forwards but then quickly retracted her body, as though to scare him. Apparently, it had worked, because Robin flinched backwards enough to make the folded up tooth in his lap slip onto the floor without so much as a squeak from the boy.
Robin’s face went pale and he swiftly snatched it back up, his hands moving faster than the pounding of Finn’s heart. Robin then steadily raised to his feet, making sure to balance the tooth between his palms and watching that it didn’t fall, before gently lifting the pillow on Finn’s bed and placing it beneath.
Gwen burst out laughing. Robin turned and stared at her blankly, his expression empty and almost confused. After a long pause, he opened his mouth.
“What?” He asked, voice innocent like a toddlers.
“Fuck did you do that for?” Gwen managed to say in between giggles.
Robin apparently stayed true to his act, and Finn knew what was coming. Finn discovered this rather grave fact when they were freshmen, soon after they had first met. He hadn’t believed it at first, didn’t think his brain was actually working, because Robin Arellano, the toughest person he and most people knew, believed in the—
“The tooth fairy,” Robin answered flatly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Gwen burst out laughing, folding over and clutching her stomach, whilst Finn groaned loudly into his hands. Robin set his arm over his knee as he sat down with one leg propped up, and his cool stature only made Gwen laugh more.
“The— fucking… tooth fairy?” She asked, hardly able to breathe because of the magnitude of her laughs.
“Yes!” Robin doubled down, clearly growing annoyed with her antics. Finn buried his head in his knees.
“Gwen! Stop that! He wouldn’t have had to leave it for the fairy if you didn’t let him punch you!” Finn reasoned, his voice growing thin. Gwen snapped up at him, and eventually her giggles were swallowed down and she was left room to speak.
“You’re right, Finn! If you were able to teach me how to fight instead of being a whiny little pacifist, then maybe I would have!” She gasped, voice dripping in sarcasm.
Robin perked up from his seemingly unbothered stance against the bed.
“I could teach you how to fight,” he stated, and Finn’s eyes flew open. Too late, though.
Gwen had already shot to her feet by the time the end of Robin’s sentence had left his mouth, and she was running towards him full speed. Robin startled backwards into the bed that rammed up into the boy's spine, and Gwen leant into his face with a humongously stupid grin on her face that screamed bad idea.
“You would? You really would?” She asked, basically bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Uh— yeah? Sure,” Robin replied, and Finn let his face fall into his palm. Gwen admired Robin like he was the sun, and, despite her plethora of insults, she probably found him to be the coolest person in the world. With everything going on, for her to be able to learn how to fight with him would be good. That didn’t mean it would cause fucking chaos though, considering Gwen had the pent up rage of a bull against everyone that had ever beat Finn up, and this might end with Gwen having dozens of teenage boys out to get her.
Robin didn’t know what he was getting himself into.
“Garage,” she stated, like she could only get out one word at a time. She wanted them to go to the garage, because that was where they had the most space.
However, Gwen grabbed onto Robin's hands and yanked him up to his feet, leaving Finn to frantically scramble to get up. They had already left the room as he darted to follow them, whisper-shouting at them to be quieter. They’d have to get past their father in order to get to where they wanted. Finn was betting that the man had already passed out.
They crouched low as they passed through the living room- Robin holding his breath as his chest was held in a frozen burst- and Finn followed through at the back. He picked up stray beer bottles as he did so, before pushing them into the bin bag at the end of the room. Robin helped a bit. Finn couldn’t help but feel a tad bit ashamed.
Of his home life, his father (but never of Gwen) and the mess that they lived in. But, it was probably safe to assume Robin had… lived through worse.
He hated that.
He let the moment seep through.
With a sigh, they entered the garage and Finn shut the door behind them all, a soft click echoing in the room. Gwen was beaming then, and Robin seemed slightly confused but somewhat eager to teach her. They stood side by side in the space of the garage that was open, and Gwen immediately took up the stance she had seen Robin perform a million times before. In fact, Finn didn’t really know if they watched the fight with Moose in this universe, but he assumed it was a somewhat similar context.
Finn walked over to a chair in the corner whilst Gwen buzzed, sitting relaxed. His mind, however, was rolling with turbulence.
Robin snorted at her as his body slacked and his shoulder rolled back, his waist sticking outwards in a way. He shed the jacket Finn had given him earlier, his muscles bulging. Finn hid his mouth behind his hands.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he called.
“Of course it is!” Robin replied, and then stood beside Gwen. She turned to look at him, her grin wide, and then looked back at the wall.
Before anything, however, Robin grasped his bandana from his head and handed it to Gwen for her to keep her hair out of her face. Finn smiled at that, but, for some reason, his face flushed at Robin’s bandana-less form.
And so they went on like that, with Robin performing each regular stance and Gwen copying it, her expression held in a way that could only be described as dorky. With each punch that Robin threw, Gwen did the same. Eventually, Robin moved onto something more complex.
“How about I teach you a roundhouse kick?” Robin asked, eyes sparkling. Gwen nodded whilst biting her lip, like she had lost the ability to speak. Robin stepped back and then hopped forwards again, before throwing out his leg, spinning and landing back onto the spot he had started on. The whole movement was swiftly performed and he landed it that way, each spasm of muscle a work of art.
Finn felt his face burn.
Gwen muttered a small, “okay,” before attempting to move. Her kick was slightly lower, her legs a bit bent, but she didn’t fail miserably. With a few more adjustments, she had got it down quite well. Robin grinned and gave her a high five. For a moment, then, Finn thought that Robin would teach Gwen their move: the one Robin taught him in the basement. He didn’t though. Finn was glad for that.
“Can we spar?” Gwen piped up, and Robin snorted.
“No!” Finn yelled suddenly, “No, Gwen, no way,” he shouted, and Gwen pouted. Robin, however, threw his hands out in front of him as though he was trying to reason with Finn.
He approached swiftly to where Finn was sitting, his legs quick. Finn settled deep into his chair, crossing his arms. Where he expected Robin to stop his crusade, he didn’t, but came closer. Finn gulped.
Robin took a step even further towards Finn, and then leant down, both of his hands on either armrest. Finn tried to make himself as small as possible, squeezing into his own body. He could feel his heart pounding, his face a blood shade of red. And then Robin leant in closer, his face drawing to Finn’s, stopping around ten centimetres away. Finn let out a shaky breath.
“Come on, estrella, please. I’ll be gentle,” Robin said quietly, his voice low as his eyes flickered up and down the length of Finn’s face, lingering on a spot Finn couldn’t quite place. Finn’s exhale was nothing short of a snort. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, before he settled on saying nothing other than a rapid nod.
Robin bit his bottom lip, remained there for a moment, and then leant away so quickly that Finn could have imagined him ever being there, before the boy turned away to Gwen and held up his fists. Gwen was snickering quietly into her hands.
Finn wasn’t able to pay much attention after that. He knew, though, that at one point Gwen sent a rocketing kick to the side of Robin’s head, and at another Robin had her pinned to the ground. They were soon both sweating and panting, and they walked up to Finn. Robin perched himself on the ground, chest heaving, whilst Gwen leant against a rack of shelves behind her.
“Well, Finn, I think Gwen could fight The Grabber now!” Robin exclaimed, and Finn’s eyes widened whilst Gwen smiled broadly.
“Shh, Robin! Terrence might hear you!” Finn chided, but Robin threw him off, instead biting the inside of his gums.
“You’re right. We should have a code name for him.” Robin smiled, his hair sticking to his broad shoulders as the muscles in his legs tightened to keep him balanced. Finn’s eyes shot back to his best friend's face, a tang in his stomach similar to butterflies, of all things. He must be ill.
“Cupcakes,” Gwen stated, her mouth drawing into a line like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Finn and Robin both simultaneously looked at her with identical confused faces.
“What? Grab, snatch, batch, cupcakes!” She giggled. Finn hummed as he thought it through, whilst Robin scoffed.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah! I think you’re jealous,” she muttered, and Robin dramatically put a hand to his chest.
“Me? Jealous? No,” he laughed.
“Yeah, because Robin so wanted to make that code name,” Finn chimed in, causing Gwen to laugh at him. They both joined in, and soon enough all three of them were giggling on the garage floor.
Gwen yawned. “We should get to bed. Today was… ugh,”
“Yeah,” Finn agreed, “I need some fucking sleep, man,” he said.
The three of them got up from the ground and crept back upstairs, Finn dangling a blanket over Terrance’s slumbering form. When they got back into the room, Gwen slumped onto the middle of the bed, before patting the space to her right, near the pillow.
“Finn, you’re here,” she stated, and then pointed to the other side, “Robin, here.”
Finn’s stomach did that thing once more.
“I’ll stay in the middle here,”
He felt himself deflate.
“No, I can sleep on the—” Robin began, but Gwen cut him off.
“No you won’t. You’re family now,” she finished, and then settled herself under the covers awkwardly, lying parallel to the pillow. For some reason, that made the decision final, and Finn and Robin followed suit with their positions, aimlessly following her orders.
After Gwen was long asleep, Robin and Finn talked without much conversation, until they, too, fell asleep. It was a good night, he thought, free of any nightmares. Robin was there, and so was Gwen. He was safe. The two most important people in the world to him were there, alive and breathing and there.
He enjoyed those caught moments, which he didn’t get that much. He enjoyed that night.
Even if his body was acting in a way that it never had before around Robin.
He agreed with his previous thought. He must be ill.