2 - Post-Mortem Blues

"Robin?" he asked with a slight confirmation nod.

She looked down, unable to bend her neck.

Bill let an encouraging smile tug at his lips. "Is there anyone I can call for you?"

Frowning, she swallowed the lump in her throat. Her feathery fringes played with the wind, tickling her nose as she bit back tears and sniffled.

"No."

"Don't you have any other family?" His face dropped a bit, and his eyebrows creased with concern.

"No." Robin swallowed her discomfort as she adjusted in her seat. She tried not to let her mind drift to the accident, but the more she tried, the stronger the memory became.

"Hey, we need to get her to the hospital," the young paramedic attending to Robin's minor injuries said.

Robin glanced back and forth between the lanky paramedic and Bill.

Bill understood the hint, stood, said goodbye, and moved away from her view.

She felt her heart tumble, recognising the feeling as abandonment. Why did his leaving upset her? He knew nothing about her. To him, she was just another person in a car crash. Robin dug inside her mind to find the answer, yet none was supplied. Giving up, her attention turned to the irksome poking and prodding of the medics.

"You can relax, sweetie," a female medic said.

Robin allowed her head to rest on the puffy bed, but her muscles would not loosen. She scanned the interior of the ambulance, not looking for anything in particular. A smell similar to hand sanitiser burnt her nostrils. That alone pinched at a memory she did not want to resurface. Shaking the thought from her mind, Robin stared at the ceiling and began counting the bolts holding the ambulance together.

The voice of an older paramedic startled her. "Do you feel any pain anywhere?"

Robin shifted her gaze to the woman with her hair pulled back in a tight bun. "My head and my side."

"Can you show me where?"

"It-it just hurts. I don't know." Just thinking about the pain made it worse.

"Do you feel light-headed, any dizziness or nausea?"

The medics were getting fuzzy, but she wasn't about to tell her that her head felt like someone was using it as a spinning top.

"No, I'm fine." She flinched when something pricked the inside of her elbow. Whimpering Robin tried to see what was pinching it. The ache was dull but irksome like a mosquito bite.

"How about-" the woman pressed.

"I'm fine." Robin snapped with a glare. The tremours were dying, replacing it was exhaustion. Her eyes rolled as she tried to keep them open. From the corner of her eye, she saw the middle-aged woman sigh while writing on a notepad. Robin was so tired.

"From what I can see, it looks like you've only got a few scratches here and there, the doctors will run tests to make sure you're okay." The woman shoved the clipboard into her bag, and Robin was glad the interrogation was finished.

She returned a grunt. "I guess..."

"You'll be okay." The medic smiled. "Not many victims are as lucky."

Lucky? How was losing her parents lucky? Robin wanted to scream, but the effort would aggravate her head. Her chest throbbed with pain - not only physical but emotional pain. But she didn't want to discuss that issue at the moment. Instead, her jaw tightened as she gritted her teeth. She gave a jerky nod to satisfy the woman. A tear still managed to leak from her eye and onto the pillow. "Where are we going?"

"To Cooper Hospital. Do you have any family I can call for you?"

A few more tears trickled down her cheek as she scrunched her nose. "It's just...just me now."

For once, the blonde had no words to say. Her face fell, a look of sympathy - or pity, Robin couldn't tell nor did she care - crossed her chubby cheeks. "Oh, I'm sorry," said the medic. Her gaze dropped to her lap. Cupping Robin's hand in her own, she sighed. "I understand what it's like to lose a loved one."

Robin just stared at their joint hands. Closing her eyes, she whispered, "I'm sorry for your loss."

A small sniffle broke the silence in the white van. "Thanks.

Robin was grateful for the peace. Though her head pulsed, she could ignore it as long as she didn't think about it.

Arriving at the hospital, the drivers of the portable first-aid van hopped out of the vehicle. Outside the doors, a team of nurses and doctors in scrubs met the medics. The nurses rushed the gurney away from the rain that had appeared, out of the blue. Then again, it could have been raining for the entire trip and Robin wouldn't have known. Everything was just blurry. She didn't care if the rain pelted on her skin or if the sun glared on her cheeks.

"How old are you?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, confused. The doctor was asking her how to fold. 'What an odd question,' she thought before another series of waves shocked her temples. She gasped. God, her head hurt so much.

The same voice asked her again, but Robin ignored it. She was too drained to ask the person what he meant. Her tired eyes watched the ceiling tiles whiz by. 'Why is it so bright?' she wondered as cool hair fanned her face.

The staff bustled and raced around her like a frenzied circus as they transported her through the bright halls.

A sudden rush of emotions covered her. She wished her parents were there. It wasn't that they would comfort her, they'd long stopped that. Pushing the thought out of her mind, she let her ears drown in the boisterous halls. Exhaustion grabbed hold of her, it's grip was fierce and fast. Her brain coveted the lure. Despite the rambunctious commotion and whizzing lights, Robin's eyelids began to shut.

"Honey, I need you to stay awake!" someone new was calling.

Robin faintly understood the prompting voice, but she couldn't obey. She wouldn't obey. It was so overwhelming. Everyone around her wanting answers and fighting to help her. Things were happening all too fast. Another flurry of emotion swept her off her feet.

"Honey! Honey!"

'Please stop!' She wanted to cry in frustration, for her loss, for her freedom, for everything she concealed within since the beginning of her parents' fall. She just felt so tired. 'Just a minute, that's all,' she bargained with her conscience. Everything was numbing. Her head, her side, her chest. All of the pain was vanishing. Robin felt herself slipping into a slumber as a mask fixed over her face. She could breathe, really breathe. For the first time in eleven years, she welcomed the clean oxygen inflating her lungs. Her eyes rolled back into their sockets and her body unravelled its built tension as she lay on the mat in peace. Resting in peace.

~

Blinding light registered to her brain. Unable to move, Robin whimpered as she tried to lift her head. Her muscles were rigid and fought to keep her immobile. She wanted nothing more than to squash the throbbing itch in her side. Baring her teeth, she inched her numb fingers across her stomach, almost grazing the purple latex. Squeezing her eyes tight, Robin swallowed a wave of nausea from the dizzying motion.

"Whoa! Get her hand away from there!" a man spat in alarm.

Robin whimpered and her hand trembled. She was determined to stop the ache by her waist.

Straight away, one of his assistants snatched Robin's desperate hand and restrained her wrists to her waist.

Panic and confusion coursed through Robin's brain, so she began squirming and whimpering, trying to relieve her reddening wrists from the nurse's strong hold. Her heart raced, her eyes widened while she tried to scream for help, but nothing came out. It was like she sold her voice to Ursula, the sea witch. Tears swam to the corners of her eyes as she battled for control.

His deep baritone voice commanded in annoyance, "Hold her still! I need anaesthesia! Now! I can't work on a moving body!"

People flew around her zooming in and out of her sight. Her head spun like tea cups on a carnival ride as she tried to keep up with the motion. For God's sake, where was the pause button?

The clear, plastic rim of a mask slammed on her face made her recoil. Terrified, Robin held her breath. She did not wanting anything in her system to further impair her warped senses. She wanted to be conscious and aware of what mutilation her body was enduring at the hands of these strangers. It wasn't that she could stomach the blood and gory surgery, but she didn't want anyone's hands near places they shouldn't be. Cold sweat poured down her temples as her head twisted, trying to evade the other nurse's hands.

Forcing her into a headlock, she felt as if she were suffocating. Robin coughed and wheezed as she continued her struggle. Her fight became pure adrenaline. Before she knew it, she felt as if she were floating in the air. A sickening, flowery scent filled her burning lungs as she inhaled deeply. She coughed again, her head jerking as she choked on the faux oxygen. Her eyes fought to stay open but lost their focus instead.

"No!" Robin cried. Her thrashes grew weak as tears flushed down her cheeks. After a few passing seconds, her mind succumbed to the beckoning dreamland. A last shed tear stuck on her cheekbone as her head lolled to the side and her eyes closed.

~

For a moment, she wondered where she was, and then she smelt the disinfectant hanging in the air. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. Hospital. Robin blinked her unwilling eyes. A chill cascaded across her arms, bringing her to awareness. Nudging the coarse fabric closer to her chest, she wiggled her arms underneath the not-so-warm blanket. Her toes were freezing despite the socks attempt to hug them. 'Why are hospitals always cold?' Groaning with discontent, she knew there was no falling back asleep. At least her head wasn't hurting anymore.

As her eyes adjusted, Robin thought back to the times she had been here before. She knew the ins and outs of hospitals; it certainly wasn't the first time she'd been admitted. Of course, the other times, she reluctantly volunteered to enter, always under a false name, never revealing her parents' identities, and always disappearing before the cops came and questioned her. The last thing she wanted were nosey officers digging into their personal lives, viciously interrogating information out of her about the latest bruises and wounds scattered across her skin. It was no one's business but hers.

"You're awake!"

Robin almost jumped ten feet in the air, the only thing keeping her on the bed was the IV needle shoved into the back of her hand. Startled, her eyes flashed onto the lady's face. After the excitement, her eyes returned to her feet. 'How the heck did she get there? When did she come in?'

The woman's pumps clicked on the tile as she made her way to the bed. Warmth seemed to emit from the woman's body, and Robin couldn't place why she felt safe. "Hello, I'm Ms Hartman. What's your name?"

"Robin."

Ms Hartman grabbed Robin's unoccupied hand and shook it. "Well, it's awfully nice to meet you, Robin."

Eyeing the woman, Robin noted Ms Hartman's accent. She wondered as to where it came from. It was Australian or British.

Ms Hartman's said, "I understand you don't have any family to take you home. I'm sorry for your loss. I can only imagine how difficult this all must be for you."

Robin looked down, a flush covered her cheeks as she lost her small grin. She swallowed, at least she didn't need to waste her breath explaining her 'situation' to another person. "Yes, ma'am." Still, her eyebrows furrowed and her nose crinkled as fought back tears. Tears were not acceptable in public.

"The doctors estimated you were around fifteen to eighteen, but they weren't sure." A chair scraped next to her bedside. Ms Hartman nestled on the seat, keeping her spine as straight as a stick and her hands clasped in her lap.

Robin couldn't help but take notice. Sophistication equalled money. She narrowed her eyes, sizing up the woman.

The lady wore nude pumps and a blue business suit. Her scent was citrus with a dash of freshness unidentifiable to Robin. A coach purse slumped in the corner. No doubt this woman had expensive taste.

Robin continued her assessment.

Where was the money coming from? Surely the lady's salary couldn't accommodate her lavish fashion style. Not only that but, what was a woman of her class doing here, lending a helping hand to a beyond repairable teen such as herself?

"Robin?"

Shaking her head, Robin looked up. "Sorry, what was the question?"

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen. Why are you here exactly?" Her voice was small.

Ms Hartman beamed warmly as she clutched Robin's hand. "Oh! I'm very sorry! I'm from Child Protection and Permanency otherwise known as CP&P," she chirped. "Our mission is to ensure the safety, permanency and well-being of children and to support families, or in your case, get you into a foster home."

Despite Ms Hartman's willingness, Robin didn't want her help. She didn't need it.

"I can take care of myself," Robin protested.

Unfazed, Ms Hartman took a breath. "Well, when you turn eighteen, you legally are an adult. Until then, you are considered a minor." She underlined her words with a curt, but firm smile. "I'm sorry, but it's the law, and I can't change it."

"I already have a house," Robin said. "I don't need to live with a complete stranger."

Ms Hartman sighed. "I know it can be frightening to live with a family when you don't know them. It can all be so overwhelming, but maybe if you just keep your mind open, you might like them?"

"But-"

Before Robin could further object, Ms. Hartman cut her off. "Besides, when you're eighteen, you can leave your foster home and live in your house."

Robin groaned and rolled her eyes. "I don't need some babysitter that's only going to shove me in a corner of their house for less than a year and then kick me out." She huffed. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." 'I've been doing for ten years,' she added silently.

"I'm sorry, but the law disagrees with you and you don't have a choice in the matter." With her eyebrows knitted, Ms Hartman rubbed small circles on Robin's hand. "Robin, you should give it a chance. Who knows? Maybe you'll even like these people."

"What if I don't want to like them?" Her voice cracked with pain as she thrust her arms across her chest. She winced, her neck and side stung from the exertion.

Ms Hartman stayed silent. Finally, she spoke. "I can't make you like these people you'll be staying with. Your first placement might only be temporary until we find you something more permanent. Could be a night, maybe longer. I'm not sure."

"I don't want to stay with them at all. Just leave me be." Tears welled in Robin's eyes. When she wiped her eyes with the back of her free hand, pain pulled at her waist. Robin clutched her side and groaned.

"Is your side hurting you?"

"I'm alright."

"The light's green on your remote. You press it and get morphine that way."

"I'm fine. It's really only a dull ache I think. It's not all that bad," Robin lied.

Unconvinced, Ms Hartman nodded slowly. "Well, if it gets too bad, you should press the button."

Robin flushed. "I know. I just don't like that stuff. It makes me loopy." Her smile disappeared as her eyes turned to her lap.

"Robin? Are you okay?"

Shaking out the thoughts, Robin looked back up. "I'm fine. Really." Robin unconsciously rubbed at her upper arm.

"Your arm, it's bruised."

A small colour distortion on Robin's skin peeked out from under the sleeve. "It's probably from the accident."

"Which one, Robin?"

Her eyes snapped to the woman's and she squirmed in her seat. "Wha-What do you mean." She frowned.

Ms Hartman's tone remained neutral. "The surgeon informed me of possible abuse when the nurses were switching you out of your clothes," she said. "I've seen bruises before, I knew them all too well." Her tone dropped several notches as she breathed. "It's yellow and faded."

"Maybe I bumped it, not that it's any your business," she snapped. Robin struggled to contain her growing temper. Her eyes narrowed as her blood boiled. How dare that woman pry into her life! 'She has no right,' Robin thought to mitigate her parent's drunken deeds.

Silence hung in the air until a light rap came from the door.

"Um, excuse me, ma'am?" Another woman entered the room. "I need to check her vitals and change her padding."

Robin bit her cheek to keep away the throbbing as the nurse unwrapped the white wrap. She flinched when the woman's cold hands pressed against the skin.

"Is it painful when I touch it?"

She held her breath. "It's fine."

"You have morphine if you need it."

"I know, thanks."

Getting back to work, the nurse replaced the pads for clean ones. Promptly after a few follow-up questions, she gathered her tools and scattered.

"I'm sorry," Ms Hartman said at last. She waited a long beat. "You don't have to hide it anymore. I know the bruises didn't just come from bumps in the crash." She cringed a little as her voice softened into mid-whisper. "They can't hurt you anymore, Robin."

How Robin wished those words were true. The memories were there, beating at her all the same as the real ones did.

"They can't hurt you anymore," Ms Hartman repeated.

Robin fought her rising tears. "Yeah, they can."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Just never mind."

"Hey, it's alright to tell me. I'm not judging you, Robin. If that's what makes you apprehensive."

"No, it's nothing. Just forget I said anything."

Ms Hartman leaned back in her chair, her back slacked. "It's just that, I want you to feel safe with trusting me. And I know it's hard and it's frightening to go to a place you've never been before, living with complete strangers. But, I promise you'll be okay. It'll all turn out for the best. Can you trust I won't stop until I know you're happy with the new family you'll be with?"

Bowing her head, guilt overrode Robin's frustration and tension. In the back of her mind, she knew the woman was genuine. It was trusting her where Robin was having difficulty.

"Fine, and I'm sorry that I was rude earlier."

The woman smiled weakly and squeezed Robin's hand like the medic had. "It's alright. I'd honestly be a bit worried if you were completely fine with it. No hard feelings?"

Knock, knock. The door opened ajar.

Both women snapped their heads to the door.

"Excuse me, is this room 224?" A man's voice asked nonchalantly.

Since when did I become popular? Robin rolled her eyes at her unspoken retort.

"Yes." Ms Hartman stood and smoothed her suit.

"I'm here for Robin erm," the man peeked down at his phone, "Elliott?"

Robin glared at the figure standing in the door. How did he know her name?

A/N: I'd like to dedicate this chapter to GreenWriter for their amazing story, Saving Hope! Their psychological thriller had me going crazy with all its twists. It was a pleasure to read! Check the author and story out!