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.*･｡. HOOD! .*･｡.
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012.
SAVED BY ANGELS!
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Robin frowned, "How is this gonna make radios?"

    "It'll help them communicate," Raven adjusted her grip on the wires in her hand and jutted her jaw leftwards, "Hey— now pass me that solder, lil' bird."

    "I thought I couldn't call you that?"

    "You can't."

    "Then, why—?"

    "You gonna pass me that solder, or not?"

   Rolling her eyes childishly, Robin grumpily snatched the solder and passed it over. She got a smug smile and rolled her eyes a second time. Her eyes flickered over the elements that Raven was soldering together, with Robin's aid from time to time, and tried to remember anything she had learned about radios without a speaker. Nothing. At least, nothing she could recall. Sinclair had never taught it to her in a lesson, and her father hadn't mentioned it even once— and, usually, Robin remembered everything about mechanics and engineering her father spoke about. She loved it.

    "Here, hold this," Raven instructed. She pulled her hair back into a tighter ponytail while Robin finished off the soldering like second-nature. "Good job. We're almost done," she explained.

    "Aren't radios supposed to be spoken through?" Glancing at them quite skeptically, it was Robin who voiced her concerns. There was no speaking component, and the radios looked shittier than they already had when tall guy had handed them over. "These things can't even be spoken through, Raven."

    "Who says they need to be?"

    "Huh?"

    "Radios are radios because they create modes of communication," her words always sounded wise when she was teaching. And, for some reason, she'd never come across as patronising to Robin. Raven Reyes knew what she was doing; it was no secret that she had an amazing mind, and was going to be the youngest Zero—G mechanic in over fifty years when she passed her exams — which she was bound to pass — in the fall, and she was also a year older, so it was only expected that she would know more than Robin did. But, while sharing all her knowledge, Raven was never an asshole. Sure, she got bossy and acted like she was the shit, but she wasn't an asshole. She was just smart. And Robin would never admit it, but she liked when Raven taught her new things. Robin guessed working with Raven wasn't so bad. Not as good as Monty, but not bad, at all. Raven continued; "Communication doesn't always have to be spoken, does it?"

   With the new realisation, Robin looked at the devices with new perspective, a look of wonder on her face. Raven waited, antsy.

    "They don't need speakers..."

    "We don't have all the parts," Raven nodded, "So, we make do."

    "There's always parts," Robin used her own words against her, watching as the older mechanic grinned. Again, the cogs in Robin's brain turned as she pieced it together; "But sometimes you gotta use the parts you didn't want, and make something new."

    "I taught you well," she smirked.

    "They don't have to speak as long as they have comms..." the younger of the pair mumbled, "They can still communicate on the ark, and we didn't need the parts that the council wouldn't give us..." Robin, for the first time since she and Raven had met, grinned widely. It was a surprise, but Raven happily took it in with a matching smile. "Raven, you're a freaking genius!"

    "I've been told."

   
• • •

It was quiet, out of the cave.

Ominously quiet. It made the hairs stand up on Robin's neck, as the trio slowly edged into the forest. At least the acid fog was gone.

She peered around, eyes squinted, and took in the silence. It had been silent the last time she ventured out into the foliage, but that had been different — this silence was deafening, and haunting. She didn't like the way it unsettled her, and sent her stomach in flips. It put her on edge; this silence didn't feel right, and it looked like she wasn't the only one who felt that way. Bellamy stood on her left, an eerily similar unnerved expression on his usually stoic face.

"Where is everyone?" Robin murmured.

    "I'm not sure."

   For a moment, she found herself worrying for Finn, Clarke and Wells. They had been out there too, and she had no idea whether they had been able to find cover. Although, the moment ended just as soon as it had begun — why was she worried about Clarke and Wells?

It wasn't as if they deserved her worry. Maybe Finn deserved it, so the point still stood. If they hadn't found cover from the fog, Robin wasn't so sure that princess and the pea would be a problem in her books, ever again. Judging by what the fog had done to her fingers, Robin had a feeling it would only be worse for anyone stuck in it. It was a sick-inducing thought, and while she didn't care whether the chancellor and his blondie lived or died, she was still humane — it sounded like one of the worst ways to go, and she didn't wish it on anybody. Plus, if they went down, spacewalker went with them, and she was actually warming to the boy. He wasn't so bad. And he had a pretty cool girlfriend on the ark who would probably prefer it if he stayed alive. So, Robin Loxely didn't particularly want Finn Collins to die a painful death from the acid fog. Actually, she found herself very much against it.

   Bellamy peered down at her, noting the paleness of her cheeks; a pale pink that was usually rosy.

"Let's find out."

She looked back up at him and nodded. As they stepped further into the open, Charlotte followed quickly behind Bellamy, planted in the middle, while Robin took up the rear.

They walked for a fair while, ducking under and dodging all the greenery they brushed past. It wasn't long before they managed to reach an opening. No one was around, not that the trio could see, and that silence didn't seem to falter. Only the sound of bird wings as they flew past, in the near distance.

"Anybody out here?" Bellamy called, "John? Jace?"

Robin frowned, Jace?

"Bellamy? Hey— we're over here!"

Sure enough, Jace's voice rang through the clearing. Bellamy led the way, and Robin jumped down from the log she was stood on, a thump! beneath her old boots.

Five figures stood like silhouettes in the clearing, and as they got closer, Robin realised that she only recognised two of them. She'd yet to get acquainted with everyone in camp. John Mbege was the second John in the skybox, besides Murphy, and he had become a crony of the first John. Jace stood next to him, and she noticed the way his eyes widened when they landed on her.

"Lost you guys in the stew," Bellamy said as he came to a stop in front of the five. He looked around at the area, "Where'd you go?"

"Made it to a cave, down there." John Mbedge explained, head tilted to the direction they had come from. His eyes fell upon their newest addition to the hunting group, who hadn't been with them before. He watched Robin closely, "Wait— where'd little hood come from?"

Robin rolled her eyes, "When two people love each other—"

Jace snorted.

"Dial it down," Bellamy gave her a nudge and readdressed the acid fog, "The hell was that?"

"I dunno," John shot Robin a nasty look, somewhat hurt by her insinuation that he was stupid, but answered the question with the utmost honesty. His nasty look was mirrored by the girl he sent the expression to, and he shrunk back a little.

Nodding slowly, Bellamy let his eyes graze over the group. Like a leader, he did a headcount and muttered a couple of names under his breath, concentrated as his thoughts took over. Something deep within him faltered, and his eyes darted back and forth, dancing to the tree line in search of a missing head. When he didn't spot him, his heart fell to his stomach and guilt began clawing at him. Robin noticed and her brows pinched. What was he doing? And, why did he look as though someone had threatened his life, and then that of his sister? It confused her.

"What?" She asked, getting his attention.

"Where's Atom?"

She didn't have an answer for him. Robin didn't know Atom any more than when she had bickered with Wells the prior morning, to which he had yet to thank her for still, but she didn't see him there.

"He wasn't with you?" Jace asked.

Bellamy didn't respond. Rather, he pursed his lips; "Spread out. We don't regroup until we find him, got it?" They nodded, "Good."

The group parted, and Robin took off to the left. She pulled her hood over her head and adjusted it. At first, she thought that she'd slipped away from the group on her own, but the sound of heavier footsteps behind her told her otherwise. "Go away, Jace."

"How d'ya know it was me?"

"You're loud."

"Oh..."

Robin continued to walk, hearing him race to catch up with her.

"Hey— wait, was that an insult?" He asked, mildly offended by her words, but not really caring all that much.

"Did it feel like an insult?" She said.

"Well, kinda—"

"Then, it probably was."

His lips parted. Whether it was in surprise, or because he wanted to say something, she wasn't sure— but it didn't matter, because he was cut short when the crunch of leaves came from their right; the two of them jumped and span around, Jace lurching forward, arm out with a dropship knife in his hand. Upon seeing who made said sound, however, his arm dropped back to his side and they both let go of the deep breaths that they had been holding, totally relieved.

"Woah," Finn held up his hands. "Cool it, Williams."

"Spacewalker," Robin looked him up and down for injury. Kid seemed fine. A bit sweaty, and dirty, but fine nonetheless. Her eyes trailed behind him and she soured, sighing; "Jaha."

He nodded, "You're alive."

"Yeah— why?" She arched a brow in his direction, a smug smirk on her lips as she taunted him. Robin's tone was slick, "You happy to see me?"

Wells rolled his eyes at her comment, though his usually serious face threatened to turn, his mouth twitching up at the corners. He turned to look at the ground instead of at Robin, partially because he feared what she would do if she saw him smiling at the dig. The pair may never get along, but Wells couldn't deny that Robin's way way of wording things was... unique. She wasn't like anyone else, on the ground — that was for sure. And, after being stuck in a vehicle that was over a hundred years old with his ex-best friend, the space walking bandit who was evidently crushing on her, and a bottle of whiskey, Wells Jaha had to admit he was glad to hear Robin Loxely, with her usual dry quip.

"Where's blondie?" Robin noticed her absence.

"Aren't you, like— her keeper?" Jace asked Wells, genuinely not understanding how Clarke had been out of his sight. Wells glared.

"She—"

   Finn was interrupted by a scream, then another, then a third. All of them shared a panicked look before taking off in that direction, barrelling across the forest, with Clarke Griffin hot on their minds. It was a girl's scream, and they were all thinking the same thing: no one had seen Clarke.

   Truthfully, upon eventually arriving at the scene, Robin expected to find Clarke Griffin dead. But she didn't. Rather, she found three figures hovering around a fourth, laying on the floor. Robin inched closer, and they shot around, alarmed until they saw it was her. His face grim, Bellamy looked to Robin with an unreadable expression that she couldn't place. She didn't like it, regardless. It wasn't right.

    "I heard a scream," she muttered.

    "Go back to camp," Bellamy cleared his throat, staring at Finn, Wells, Jace, and everyone else who had gathered around him and Clarke. "You too, Charlotte. Everyone go."

   The little girl nodded slowly, whispering something in his ear as she slowly followed after Jace, whom reached his hand out for her to hold. But, Robin didn't follow them. Not when Jace gave her an expression that told her to hurry up, or when Finn's hand brushed her back. Robin barely looked at him — she was stuck, stiffened in her spot, unable to pry her feet from the floor or her eyes from the figure whom laid on the ground. Robin couldn't move. She had no way of tearing her gaze from the writhing body, even when she felt the bile rise to the back of her throat as she took in all his blistered skin. Her legs wobbled, and her brain told her to move, but Robin couldn't. So, she stood. Staring down at Atom as he begged Clarke to help him, to kill him, not able to look away. Burning up her chest, to her airways, Robin tasted the sourness of vomit on her tongue that made her gag.

   She slowly lowered herself to a crouch and tried not to throw up her guts onto the ground. Robin could hardly hear Finn's whispers in her ear. They were soft, but far away, and she could focus on the churning in her belly, and Atom.

   He was twitching, and crying, and his body was covered head to toe in blisters and welts that had bled out, drenching his clothing a sickening shade of crimson. It was hard to look at. Robin felt weak and her eyes began to sting. For the first time, she looked to Clarke for guidance.

   Clarke shook her head.

    "Robin?"

   That wasn't Finn's voice— not this time.

   A face appeared in front of her own, deep eyes to match deep curls and a white scar on their forehead, "Robin, hey..."

   Her eyes met theirs. It was slow, and took a second, but they met and Robin found herself staring into the eyes of Bellamy Blake. As she stared at him, heart aching for the boy on the floor, he let out a sigh through his nose. Robin hardly knew Atom, but her light pants for air told him it didn't matter. Because Robin cared more than she ever let on, about people she would never admit. She didn't need to know someone to want to help them — the hood was a secret, and it was a means of helping total strangers; as long as they needed help, then they would get it. That was the whole point of it. No one had any idea it was Robin Loxely, yet she still helped them. Because she still cared.

"Go back to camp— okay?" Bellamy told her gently, his fingers softly grazing her arm. At first, he wasn't sure whether Robin had even heard him; she had no real response. "You go with Finn."

After a beat, she nodded.

"C'mon, Loxely." Finn spoke gently.

He and Bellamy helped her up, her body seeming light, and far smaller than it had before. When she stumbled on her feet, both boys steadied her with palms on the small of her back, their hands knocking and they casted one another an indecipherable look. But Robin paid it no mind. She was still staring at Atom, eyes lingering on Clarke Griffin as she hummed a soft tune. It was the same one; the one Robin's mother used to hum.

As her heart broke again in her chest, Finn placed his arm over her shoulder and held her up, his touch calming. Why did Finn calm her? Why did they both fit together like puzzle pieces? Her mind reeled the whole journey back.

When she stumbled again, lost in thought, a new hand appeared on her other side, grabbing her forearm in careful hold. Wells Jaha.

Robin didn't push him away. Rather, she clung to his shirt as her body folded over at the hips, heaving up the minor foods they had eaten since being on the ground. He patted her back, neither teen saying anything as she nearly threw up a lung, choking coughs and silent cries. No one mentioned the tears on her cheeks.

Not even Wells.

————

"Monty, concentrate."

Said boy sighed through his nose, restlessly.

He had been fidgeting in his seat since she had gotten back and showed him the pieces she had found in the automobile. While he was glad to see some leeway in their efforts to contact the ark, and parts that would put them at an advantage, Monty was still caught in Jasper — which, was fair. His best friend was clinging onto life, after all. But they had the seaweed, and all they could do was hope it would work. Jasper was at his best chance of survival since being saved, and so Robin needed Monty to focus. If they wanted to find a way to contact the ark, she needed him.

Robin knew he was trying.

Monty was trying to focus on the task at hand, but his eyes kept flickering over to Jasper. He had stilled since Clarke had returned, brewing the seaweed into a tea with Octavia's help.

Whether his lack in grunts and moans was a good thing, none of them were totally sure. They were just kids. But, they hoped it was a good sign, and were now just waiting for him to wake up. Until it happened, however, there was little they could do. All they could do was wait.

Wait, wait, wait. Well— Monty was sick of waiting. He slammed down the wristband in his hands and groaned, rubbing at his face.

In response, Robin didn't do much. She simply opted for staring as he had his small breakdown, his breaths heavy as he tried not to lose his mind. She had never been good at comforting people. The process of physically aiding people in their hardest times wasn't an easy thing for her. Sure, she lived to help others, but she was never very good at giving words of wisdom, or consoling. It way why she didn't help people as Robin Loxely, rather as the hood whom no one ever knew their real identity, let alone found comfort in. Robin just wasn't good at it. So, she sat still and continued to fiddle with wires and connect old wristbands, all while letting Monty have the small moment that he needed. Her eyes flickered back to him every now and then, until she soon looked up and caught his gaze, finding the boy already watching her.

"How can you be so calm?" He asked.

Calm?

Robin arched a brow, staring at him for a second longer, before she broke eye contact and looked back at her work. Calm? Monty thought she was calm?

Getting back to camp, Robin had been anything but calm.

Actually, she had been a mess. Stumbling, weak at the knees, an overwhelming smell of vomit clinging to her clothes. Robin threw up three times on the way back to camp, and Finn and Wells both debated carrying her, at one point.

It was as if seeing Atom in such a state had stirred her insides. It left her nauseated and dizzy, and when she thought about it for too long, she wondered if she would faint. She wasn't stupid; she knew what Clarke had to do. There was no other choice. His body being carried into camp by Bellamy hadn't been a surprise. But it sent an anxious shiver right down her spine, nonetheless.

   She looked down at her fingers, the blisters crusted and scabbed, and thought about Atom. Her stomach stirred, again.

"I'm not."

Monty frowned, "Huh?"

"I'm not calm," Robin shrugged, peering around their level of the dropship. It was only them and Jasper.

"You look calm."

"Looks can be deceiving."

He thought about her words for a minute, then nodded slowly in attempt to digest them. Monty scratched the back of his neck, face suddenly sheepish. Maybe he had been too hasty in his judgement.

"Sorry..." he trailed off in a murmur, "I just— I dunno what I'd do without him. He's my best friend, my brother." His words made for aimless rambles, and Robin listened intently. "I mean— he may not be my real brother... but he's always been there." Monty smiled sadly, "Every memory, there's Jasper."

Robin hummed, "Ya need a tissue over there, Green?"

"Shut up," he retorted, lamely.

They shared small smiles and laughed through their noses, then lapsed into a short silence. Robin appreciated that he loved Jasper, and she knew that this kid was important to him. In a way, Monty was lucky. Really lucky. He had played the right cards in coming to earth. Sure, he still had family up there on the ark, but he had been one of the first hundred kids to return to the ground, and with the boy he saw as a brother at his side. Maybe Jasper was dying, which wasn't all that great, but she still believed Monty was lucky. To care about someone so much was a blessing, and to be cared for by that person in the same quantity was grace at its finest. They were lucky because they had each other. Robin wasn't sure she had that kind of luxury, anymore. Her father was on the ark, but he didn't care, not enough to visit, or see her before she was sent to her death. All she had was Sinclair, and that was why she needed the radios to work. If not... well, Robin wasn't certain what she would do.

"We gotta do this, Monty." She eventually sighed, "I know Jasper means a lot to you, but if we wanna do this— if we wanna contact the ark... I need you," Robin admitted to him. "I need you, and that big brain of yours, okay?"

Robin shook her head and looked down, biting her low lip and sucking in a breath. She looked back at Monty with pleading eyes.

"I can't do this, on my own."

His demeanour softened, even softer than usual, and he found a nod of his head happening before he told it to.

Monty looked down at the wristband and scooted closer, taking it from her hand and into his own. He chewed on the inside of his cheeks and tried to figure out her plan.

"How are we gonna talk to them without speakers?" He asked, albeit hesitantly, but his shoulders relaxed when her lips twitched up into a small grin. Monty wasn't sure what he had said that had changed her whole attitude, but he supposed it didn't really matter.

"Radios are forms of communication," Robin recited the words she had taken with her, the words of another fellow lil' bird. "But speaking isn't the only way to communicate," she said. "We don't have any speakers, but we don't need 'em. We don't have to talk to the ark to let them know that we're alive, down here."

Robin watched his face, eyes lighting up and expression twisting into one of realisation, like she had cleared the fog over his brain.

"Morse code."

"What-code?" Octavia.

They both turned to watch her climb up the hatch, not failing to notice the tear stains on her cheeks and the redness of her nose. It was no secret that Atom's death had upset her, and it made Robins stomach churn with guilt. There was nothing she could have done, nothing that would make it better, so she tilted her head down and looked to the wristband in Monty's grip. He nodded, giving her an incredibly brief rundown of morse code, and how it could help.

   She still looked confused when he finished, but she accepted that they were smart enough to trust their opinion. Octavia joined their little group, and soon enough spacewalker appeared, making them a four.

   As ever, Finn had a charming grin.

   He shook a bottle in his hand, and they listened to the slosh of a brown, watery liquid.

    "Anyone up for a drink?"

   Robin eyed him closely as he popped the lid from the bottle and downed a large gulp, wiping his mouth with his hand and grinning wider when Octavia wiggled her fingers in yearning. Finn gave her the bottle happily and plonked down between her and Robin, gaze attached to the youngest of them as she tried alcohol, likely for the first time in her life. After a slight wince, Octavia pulled the bottle away from her face and inspected the faded label. She shrugged as the small letters blurred together, took another longer sip, nodding her head slowly; "Disgusting," she muttered and then cracked him a smile, "Love it."

   Finn patted her shoulder as she passed it to Monty.

    "Smooth," he coughed after a heavy glug, but they didn't miss his smile. Agro station was the station of moonshine, and while Finn's found whiskey wasn't as good, it made him feel all nostalgic inside.

   Robin was next in their square to receive the bottle and she took it gratefully. Their work on the wristband was long forgotten, left a mess on the ground in the middle of their group, but she had little care for it. Right now, Robin Loxely needed a drink. She lifted their half-empty bottle to her lips, tilting her head.

    "Can I get a hit of that?"

   Almost choking, Robin pulled the bottle away as they all flung to the left, messily scrambling over to the freshly awoken boy.

    "Jasper!"

    "Let's start with the soft stuff," Finn chuckled.

   He lifted their water canteen to Jasper's lips and let him take the most he could handle, watching his face fill with relief. It was odd to see him moving, and talking, and Robin wondered whether she had expected his voice to sound like it did. He sounded timid, and soft, and awfully sweet. Just like Monty, really, whom had reached a hand and clung onto his best friend like he would disappear if he dared let go of him.

    "Was that a dream..." he trailed off, "Or, did I get speared?"

    "You'll have a very impressive scar to prove it," they all turned to see Clarke appear up the ladder, a smile on her face. She seemed a lot less tense than she usually was.

    "My saviour!" Jasper cheered, softly.

    "Thank you, for not dying." Clarke took his other hand and gave it a squeeze, looking both grateful and relieved. She let go of the breath she was holding, and nodded softly. "I don't think I could've taken that, today."

    "I'll try not to die tomorrow, too, if that's cool." He smiled, and the group smiled back. Jasper looked to Octavia, amazed that she was waiting on him, alongside everyone else. The boy made minor efforts to hide his surprise and instead let go of a shocked sound at the back of his throat and blinked up at her. It made the girl giggle lightly as he spoke; "Oh— hello."

   Robin looked at the bottle of whiskey still in her hand, and took a long drag of the liquid. It burned down her throat but made for a good celebration, and she passed it over to Finn as she strolled to the open hatch. As she began the climb down, a voice stopped her.

    "Hey— I haven't thanked you, yet." Jasper said.

    "You don't have to," Robin shrugged and sent him a wink, hood pulled over her head as she descended the rungs. "Later, goggles!"

   Jasper blinked.

    "Was that the hood?"

   She made it to the ground floor with minimal pain in her arms and shoulder, and brushed herself off. Robin slipped through the door of the dropship and strolled down the ramp, stare bouncing between the few delinquents that were still awake. After a minute, she trudged over to the fire and threw herself onto one of the logs that circled it. The flames reflected light on her face, and the deep orange danced in her irises, making her glow with warmth. Beside her, the log shifted with movement. Her gaze slowly left the fire pit and ventured to the figure on her left, the angle of the flames that made a shadow cast over half his face. Robin stared for a moment longer, taking in the dried scabs on his nose and the fresh bruise in between his brows, thinking about what Monty had told her when she returned to camp.

    "Jasper's alive," she told him.

    "Hallelujah," he muttered dryly, "Praise be."

    "You're an asshole, John." Robin shook her head slowly, fingers twitching for the bottle she had left behind with Finn.

    "Nothing new, there." Murphy shrugged. He looked to her and rolled his eyes, taking note of the emptiness on her face. "Don't lie to yourself, Robin. You didn't think that kid would survive, either."

   Lips pursed, Robin mulled over the words. He was right. Robin didn't think Jasper would survive. In fact, she had little hope. But it seemed important to recognise that he had. Jasper had survive, and he had shown them that earth was survivable. Even if they thought otherwise. And that made Robin stand to her feet with a new drive; new passion; new determination.

   New hope.

   Murphy's lips tugged into a frown as he watched her walk back the way she came.

    "Hey— Rob, where ya going?"

    "To make a damn radio!"

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