Control the Storm Collection
Story 1

Title: Ryuu

Author: Catherine Grissom

Rating: T?

Summary: I closed my eyes, Telling myself I didn't have to look at what I didn't want to...

A/N: This is the first in a series of 'audio inspired' one-shots. These are not songfics.I'm going to rate the collection as T for now, though it may go up. Each one-shot will be individually rated.

Warnings: Nothing too traumatizing I would hope.

Disclaimer: Sunrise and Bandai own Witch Hunter Robin. Tsukiko Amano owns 'Ryuu' from which this derives its name and summary. I am a poor college student. I don't even own Ramen.

Inspired by Tsukiko Amano's song 'Ryuu'.

Staring at the ceiling, Robin decided that she did not like the way the shadows moved at night. Maybe it was the angle that the light entered the room, or perhaps there was wind outside, though she heard none, or possibly it was simply her imagination…

Whatever the reason, from the time her eyes had adjusted to the dark in the small hotel room, the shadows seemed to move with a sense of menace. What was something no more harmful than a tree branch suddenly became a hand, sliding in to the room, searching for a life to smother-

'It's just a tree.' Robin whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut, rolling onto her side, curling into herself. 'Only a tree. You're being silly.'

Robin forced her eyes open. There was a tree outside the window… Wasn't there? She couldn't remember, and, gripped by what was probably an irrational sense of terror, she did not want to look.

They'd had a close call in Prague a week ago. She was simply stressed. Tree or no tree.

Even Amon was stressed. Though one wouldn't have been able to tell now, listening to his deep, even breathing.

Maybe he would let her sleep in his bed…

'Stop being childish,' Robin reprimanded herself silently. 'He's asleep. It's three in the morning. Let him sleep.'

And he did need to sleep. He'd had a headache for God knew how long. He tried to hide it, but Robin had noticed him squeezing his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply before finally reopening his eyes slowly. He only did it when he was sure that she wouldn't see, when she'd excused herself to go to the restroom, or had busied herself with tidying whatever small room they were in. She'd first seen by accident: a child had scampered by her and, smiling, she'd turned back to watch the small boy only to find Amon looking almost helpless as he tried to will away a headache.

She'd begun watching him, cautious glances over her shoulder whenever she walked away from him. It had been three days since she'd first noticed and she was beginning to worry. She had considered giving him aspirin, but had quickly dismissed the idea. He'd likely already tried that. Even if he hadn't, he wouldn't like her pointing out that she'd noticed his weakness.

Robin nodded once, firmly. She would let him sleep. She was being silly. They were shadows. That was all.

Decisively, she rolled onto her back. Shadows, only shado- It still looked like a hand.

Her lip trembled and she clenched her jaw to still it.

The hand ('Shadow,' she reminded herself, 'shadow,') seemed to curl invitingly, beckoning her towards the window and her eyes widened.

That had been a trick of her mind. Right? Shadows didn't beckon.

As if to spite her, the shadow did it again.

A high, keening whimper pulled itself from her throat. Seconds later, she was standing by her warden's bedside.

"A-Amon?" her voice was barely above a whisper, trembling though she tried to stop it.

He 'hmm'ed once, not quite awake, but getting there. She felt horrible to wake him, knowing that, if he had felt entirely well, he would have been awake and alert the instant she'd moved.

She very nearly whispered a 'nevermind' and crawled back in her own bed, but before she could, he turned, tired eyes studying her. "Robin?" he asked, voice thick with sleep. "What do you need?"

Feeling very selfish, Robin found she couldn't push the words past her lips. Her mouth worked silently for a moment before another whimper emerged.

Amon's brow furrowed slightly and he held out a hand in invitation. "C'mere," he yawned.

Climbing into the bed, Robin found herself being pulled. Once she was resting against his side, Amon wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

Robin settled into the embrace, feeling protected, but, at the same time, even worse for waking him.

All was quiet for a few moments and Robin glanced at the ceiling. The shadows didn't look half as threatening from here. Her mind had definitely been playing tricks on her.

"What's wrong?" His eyes were sleep-fogged, watching her. "Another nightmare?"

She wanted to take the excuse he provided, but found that she couldn't. "It's silly," she whispered.

He smiled slightly then, the hand that had been resting on her shoulder coming up to stroke her hair. "If it upset you, it isn't silly," he reassured. "Try to sleep."

He was nearly asleep again himself by the time he finished speaking. Moments later, Robin followed suit.

Morning came early. Too early, Robin decided. Surprisingly, when she woke, Amon was still in bed. His eyes were moving behind his eyelids, and she couldn't figure out whether he was awake and fighting off his headache or simply trying to cling to those last few moments of sleep.

Not willing to wake him again if he was sleeping, Robin found herself watching him. After a few moments, his eyes opened, clear but distant. His arm was still around her shoulder, perhaps a bit tightly. He turned, looking at her as though he had forgotten she was there.

Robin smiled, comfortingly. His headache must still be there. "Good morning," she murmured, beginning to extricate herself.

He blinked and, for an instant, his eyes seemed darker than usual. "Where're you going?" His normally tightly controlled voice almost seemed to shake, and, for a moment, Robin wondered which of them had been the one needing comfort.

"I'm only getting a shower," she explained, "and then maybe breakfast."

The headache had to be wearing down his defenses: he'd looked almost frightened when she'd implied that she was leaving, even momentarily.

"You can stay here and rest if you want," she said, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand. His skin felt clammy. "You look tired."

Amon pulled his gaze from her and his eyes began darting around the room. "I might do that," he said, noncommittal.

Robin watched him warily. She'd been on the run with him for over a year and had never seen him act like this. He looked nervous. More worryingly, he looked scared.

"Are you alright?"she asked, sitting up, studying his face.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment. When he finally reopened his eyes, he looked calmer. "I-" he started, then paused. When he spoke again, his voice was small, "I'm tired."

The admission startled her and she nearly forgot how to speak. "Rest, then," she said finally, forcing the waver from her voice.

Amon nodded, settling into the bed again, throwing an arm over his eyes.

Robin swallowed hard. He looked…pitiful, like he was giving up. Biting her lip, she moved to the bathroom. She'd shower and then she'd get breakfast, fruit or something. She'd let him rest. He'd be better when she came back.

He had to be.

When she got back an hour and a half later, the room was darker. He must have pulled the curtains.

"Where were you?" He was still in bed. His voice seemed almost too restrained, like he was fighting to keep from screaming at her. There was an odd lilt to it.

"Breakfast, remember?" Robin kept her voice light.

She heard Amon suck in a breath and watched him carefully. His eyes were tightly closed and his left hand was clenching and opening, almost spasmodic.

Robin swallowed. "I- I brought back fruit," she offered, voice quavering slightly. "If you're up to eating-"

Amon's eyes snapped open and Robin hoped it was only the lack of light making them look black. "Liar," he hissed, pinning her with a furious glare. "You little liar."

"Amon?" The darkness of the room suddenly felt tangible, the shadows seeming almost alive.

"You went to them, didn't you?" The odd lilt was back in his voice, drawing out the vowels in his speech, adding an air of madness. "You went to turn me in."

She felt a caress on her cheek and ice ran down her spine. Her mind hadn't been playing tricks on her, wasn't playing tricks on her. He hadn't been fighting off a headache. He'd been fighting for control.

"Amon." She wasn't prepared to deal with this. "Amon, you don't believe that." He was just cranky. He wasn't Awakening. He just needed sleep.

"Don't I?" The caress at her cheek turned to a hand at her throat. The hand began to squeeze as he sneered, "I offer you protection, drop everything I've ever had for you, and you repay me by turning me in."

Finding her air slowly cut off, Robin tried to claw the hand away from her throat. Nothing was there, save for a brief shock of cold.

"Wonderful things, shadows," Amon chimed, sounding nearly cheery. "Powerful. Insubstantial. Darkness caused by light."

A terrified sob caught itself in her throat, and, for an instant, Amon's eyes went grey again and the hand loosened. Only for an instant, but it was enough.

"Amon, please," she half-sobbed, half-gasped. "Please."

His eyes darkened again, lip twisting, and then the hand was gone and Amon was curled on his side on the bed, clutching his head, shakily chanting some mantra.

Robin collapsed to her knees, sucking in air greedily. Heartbeat pounding in her ears, she tried to hear what Amon was saying. It took a few moments, but she was finally able to catch it.

"I am human. I will not become a mindless beast. I am human."

Forcing herself to her feet, she made her way to his side. Perching delicately on the edge of the bed, she called his name quietly, jolting when he stiffened.

He didn't move for a while. Then he spoke, voice shaking but blessedly sane, "If I ever attack you again," he trailed off, not quite able to voice what he wanted.

Swallowing, Robin forced her abused throat to work. "If I feel," she began slowly, "that you have truly lost yourself, I will do what is necessary." Her lip trembled and she felt a tear drip onto her chest. "Please don't ask more of me than that."

Amon let out a shuddering breath. "Thank you."

Over the next thirty-six hours, Robin prayed more than she could remember doing so ever before. Aloud, she didn't pray so much as plead. Begging grey eyes to 'Stay with me. Please stay with me. Please don't leave me.' And when those eyes turned black, 'Come back to me. Don't leave me. Come back to me.'

Drained, she smoothed his hair. Throat painfully dry, she made him drink when he was lucid enough not to choke. Face soaked with sweat or tears or some combination, she wiped his brow.

Finally, his hands gradually loosened the stranglehold they'd had on the sheets since she'd forgotten when. His ragged breathing began to even out, eyes slowing their frantic movements behind their lids.

Bone weary, Robin waited. Thirty seconds. A minute. Five minutes. His eyes remained closed.

Then his eyelids fluttered.

Voice nearly gone, she forced a cracked whisper past her lips, "Open your eyes."

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he complied. Liquid gunmetal met emerald green.

Tears that she thought had dried up hours ago returned with a wave of relief. Nodding to herself, she brushed sweat-soaked strands behind his ears.

Amon watched her, curious, worried, silent.

Finally, she spoke again, smiling, "My beast."