Red Robin | A Gone Series Fanfiction

ONE

"Terrible what happened, isn't it?"

"Oh, um, terrible?"

"You know, the incident. Ah, I suppose I should call it what it is. A tragedy."

"Right, right. That. Yes, very tragic."

The driver reaches up to adjust the rearview mirror and Robin sees the reflection of her pale face staring back at her from the back seat. The car radio spits static, dipping in and out of vocal coherency. Robin prefers the static. She thinks if she hears another stone-faced, firm-voiced reporter repeat the 'incident' she'll develop chronic migraines like her mother.

"You'd wonder what goes on in people's heads," the driver soldiers on in his musings. "To do something as cruel as that."

"You'd wonder..." Robin murmurs, throwing his words right back at him.

She glances out the window but there's not much to see. Outside, it's pouring. Thick sheets of rain spill from the sky and melt down the windows, colouring the world grey.

She's pressed back into her seat when the car slants upwards, chugging up a steep hill. The car comes to a flat clearing, and finally, something big comes into view. Twin stone guardhouses poke up high, framing a steel gate with engraved plaques on either side. Gold calligraphy glimmers at her and she squints to read what it says.

Ad augusta, per angusta

Robin doesn't know what it means, except that it's some kind of motto, perhaps written in Latin.

The driver yanks up the handbrake, fishes his phone out of his pocket and dials a number. It rings twice before it's answered.

"Yeah, I'm here now," the driver says, flicking his wrist to check his watch. "Didn't I tell you I'd be ten minutes early?"

In the back seat, Robin crosses her legs, then uncrosses them.

"Okay, see you in a minute," the driver says, then hangs up. He looks up and meets Robin's eyes in the rearview mirror. "They're just opening the gates for us, not to worry."

Robin tries a smile. "There's no rush."

"Security measures and all that. Seems a bit extreme, but it's for protection."

She laughs. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say I'd be going to a prison." Her attempt at a joke falls flat when the driver grimaces in response.

A polite smile coats his mouth and there's genuine sorrow shining in his eyes when he says, "For some parents, that's what it is. A place to send troubled children. Either to shield them from the world, or shield the world from them."

She blinks, feels her eyes go wide in alarm. "I... I had no idea it was like that."

The driver nods solemnly. "My instincts tell me you fall into the former category." He lifts his hand from the wheel and gestures all around them. "Many's a time I've brought kids here and some of them..." He shakes his head. "Sometimes you look at someone and you just know. This place can't change what's already ingrained in you."

"I'll remember that," she promises, confused.

"I don't mean to scare you of course." He chuckles nervously. "There are plenty of others like you, plenty of nice girls I imagine."

"I hope so."

The iron gates start to open inward and Robin spots the dark shape of someone poking their head out of the guardhouse window and waving. A knot of anxiety coils in her stomach and she twirls a red lock of her hair around her finger, just to do something with her hands.