Death Comes to the Bishop Family

[ooc: Still can't deal with his signature. I get excited every time I see that you're using it. Hozier and Robin go well together XD Also, I do have a reason for Else's actions later, if you want to know XD ]

Avery didn't properly register Robin's approach until she was being tugged into the arms of someone she recognized and was actually rather desperate for. "Hi," she replied gently, curling herself into his chest without protest. "I probably should be okay, huh? It's been so long. I should be used to being without him. But I keep thinking about Aiden and it isn't fair. I know that. I'm just so bad at dealing with my family, and now I can't fix the issues with my dad. It's too late."

Shaking her head at her own disappointing history, Avery leaned back enough to look at him properly. Somehow, the tears had still failed to show up. Her fingers had unconsciously curled into the jacket he was wearing, and she looked down, almost amused for a moment by the jacket's presence. How fitting. One hand released the leather and instead reached up to touch his cheek. She didn't care that he had taken longer than he said he would. He was there. But he also had to deal with Claire, and that was something that was hard for both of them.

"I'm sorry," she added quietly. "I know this isn't at all what you thought you'd be doing today. I didn't expect it, either. But... thank you for being here." Lifting herself onto her toes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. She drew in a breath, preparing to tell him that she loved him. But it didn't feel like the right time. Not with her sister in the next room. Instead she took his hand and led him towards the door, pulling it open.

At the last second, just as she was about to release his hand to avoid causing Claire any discomfort, she pulled Robin towards Else instead. Stepping around to stand next to him, she looked up at the older blonde. "Mum?" she began nervously. "This is Robin." She passed a small but somehow bright smile her mother's way, as though it would prove how much Avery cared for him and as though it would prevent Else from being hard on him. "Robin, my mum, Else."

It wasn't lost on the elder daughter that it was plain to everyone just how distant she had been. But Avery didn't think she really cared about that. Else looked from her daughter and back to the woman's husband, surprising Avery to no end when she stepped forward and hugged him, forcing Avery to release her hold on his hand. She looked over at Claire with wide, confused eyes. When Else pulled back, looking thoroughly pleased with herself for shocking the others, Avery tried to hide her puzzlement by looking over to her father. She would have to ask her mother why she had been so oddly forward and so unusually tactile.

Well, she mused. If Else liked Robin okay, she could talk with him in the hall, right? Pulling herself up to her full height, she turned towards Agnes. "Do you think I could have a little while with him?"

The silence that followed Avery’s departure was probably unsettling to anyone not so accustomed to silence. She could feel her mother shifting uncertainly behind her, caught between wanting to mother her child and fear of stepping a boundary she could not quite define. They hadn’t spoken in the past few years, save for their last Mungo’s visit, but they had never really talked. Else had never really understood Claire. Claire had been a baby who had cried when you held her and was more than happy to be left alone. What mother felt secure with such a child? The two had just never understood each other – and that misunderstanding bred distance, which bred uncertainty.

And then there was the added confusion of Agnes, and how they were supposed to feel about the woman. Agnes treated them all like dear friends, family even, and the Bishop women, with their long reputation of being cold and distant, were not sure how to handle this strange new addition to their lives. There was no reason to be bitter about her, sure. Agnes had come in long after the divorce and, thus far, had never attempted to drive a wedge between the pre-existing family, supposedly even going as far as to encourage Mathias to reach out.

All in all, the situation was just uncomfortable.

And Claire knew it was only going to get worse. She had not brought Elsie and Ben so that they could come into the room and hold her hand and pretend they were Bishops. She had not even invited them. They had come in case they had to sweep up the pieces of the shattered ice queen once it was all said and done. But Avery was about to bring someone into their family, make him seem as such, and Claire would have to look at the only man she had ever loved as a brother in law. It didn’t feel fair, not today, which would certainly be her worst day. But Claire wasn’t going to speak up about it.

Because, that was the thing about her. She had grown accustomed to silence. The other members of her family seemed deeply perturbed by the silence between them all, as the divorce had severed four people, rather than two, but Claire had only known this life. She hadn’t gotten used to the idea of family when it was taken away from her. And any ignorance to the situation had been taken from her by her sister, grieving so for the loss of normalcy that she stole it from her younger sister as well. As Claire had grown up, her play had all been solitary, as her father didn’t really invite family over, so only Avery got to really grow up with cousins. Her house wasn’t near many others with children, so she enjoyed walks where she had a chance to observe how other people lived. It hadn’t really ever struck her how sad her life was because she saw homelessness, addiction, loss, and hopelessness when she toured the world. So she had never spoken up about the wrongs she had felt had been dealt to her. Because, in the long run, she had never been given something she couldn’t get through.

This would be no different. It was a horrid thought, but the rational part of her brain never stopped working, and she knew that the loss of a parent was inevitable. Some people, such as the Potters, had suffered the loss early in life, had never been given the opportunities to get to know the original from whence they came. She hurt for Agnes, who was losing a lover. She hurt for her father, who she knew would die with regrets in his heart. But she didn’t dare hurt for herself, because her life could be infinitely worse.

Though it seemed fate was trying to make it so.

She heard Avery’s voice behind her and she sat up, her palms sliding up her thighs as she repositioned into a more braced posture. Her eyes had not yet left her father’s form, but the introduction of Robin to her mother was a curious thing. It wasn’t something they had done – not because they weren’t at that point in their relationship, but Claire had not seen a reason to introduce her boyfriend to a stranger. He had only met her father because her father had spotted them together before graduation and had introduced himself – which was horrible timing, considering that one was weighed down with the knowledge that they would be breaking a heart (and the other was weighed down by a diamond in his pocket).

But it struck Claire that Robin’s introduction into the family would have been years ago, would have been relatively happy, and would have been on her terms, had she not made that decision to pursue a career rather than a relationship. But she could not regret that now, because what could regrets do? It couldn’t unmarry Avery and Robin. It couldn’t change all the feelings that had built up or fallen to pieces since graduation. It wouldn’t make tonight easier.

She had to look at him, and while he was distracted with meeting mother-in-law, she thought she could get her weird feelings out of the way. So she turned and looked at him, getting only a glimpse of him, only a millisecond of almost meeting his gaze, before her mother pulled him into a hug.

Well, that was fitting. Her mother had not initiated a hug with her in almost a decade. It made sense that she would find Robin, Avery’s husband, worthy of such affection.

Avery was looking at Claire, surprised, but there was some mingling pleasure in that surprised expression, enough that even Claire could register it. Claire lifted her shoulders in what was supposed to be a shrug but probably looked more like a flinch. She looked back just as the embrace broke up. Which meant Robin was going to be looking this way. And, as much as she thought she should be able to deal with that, she really didn’t want to put herself to the test. That wasn’t her idea of a fun challenge. She started to turn away but-

It was only a second. Really, only a second in a lifetime full of seconds. But she froze in that second, staring back at those all too familiar blue eyes. Why did they seem so familiar? It had been… years. Oh, God. It had been years. He had been on her list when she first came to England, and she had avoided him like the plague. The last time she had seen him had been graduation night. When she had said she was going to America, and he wasn’t to join her. She had told him to move on and be happy, and he had told her to have a good life.

It looked like he had followed instructions. She had struggled with her task, and she wasn’t sure she had succeeded.

Maybe that was why he was so jarring. Because part of her still felt like a seventeen year old with tall ambitions but very few solid ideas on how to achieve them. And part of her still felt like a seventeen year old walking away from the hardest decision she had ever made, wondering if she had done it because it was the best option or because it was a decision and she felt like she needed to make one.

She turned away, her heart pounding in her chest heavily. She needed to focus on the real matter at hand. Her father. She wanted this time to be for him, not for herself and her feelings. Avery turned to Agnes, who seemed to have just remembered that this was not her family, no matter how much she had gotten to know them through Matthias. She had no connection to this young man so of course she had not been introduced. She looked to Avery with a wobbly smile and then gasped, “Of course, dear, of course. Claire, is that-“

Claire nodded, her throat feeling dry and incapable of speech, but somehow she managed to say, “Of course.” Part of her was terrified to leave her father – not wanting to rob herself of any time – but she knew Avery needed this just as much as Claire did, even if Claire would not make the claim. She stood and turned, trying to keep her eyes trained on the door as she made her escape.

She left the room with her chin raised high, pulling her cardigan around her. Agnes followed, reaching out to Else as she went out.

Elsie Norton was not good at being patient, but her brother was pleasantly surprised to see that she was doing fairly well. They had moved into the hallway, and were sitting with their backs to the walls, legs stretched out in front of them. Elsie kept trying to think of interesting things to say, but Ben wasn’t up for much conversation. So she rested her head against his shoulder and sighed, wondering why fathers had to die and best friends had families that didn’t love them the way they should.

She glanced up at the sounds of footsteps, to see Claire exiting the room. Elsie wasted no time in jumping to her feet, prepared for the best and the worst. Ben was close behind, his heart tender towards the woman who had done so much for his sister. Elsie began to approach Claire, wanting to meet in the middle… when another figure came out of the room.

She hadn’t seen him because she had been getting water just minutes ago. Ben, of course, wouldn’t think to tell her because no one had ever known about her summers spent with Robin Ivanov. He was also like Claire, and never thought little details were worth mentioning, because they failed to remember that normal people had bias towards everything. So of course she was unprepared. Why should Robin Ivanov be meeting with the man that Elsie had grown up around. Why should Robin Ivanov be here with his new wife. Why should he be near Claire. Or her. Or anyone. Why Robin. Why.

Her mind was obviously in angry panic mode to distract from the minor explosion happening in her stomach. It forced her feet still as an open expression of shock crossed her face. Her only saving grace was that Ben kept walking, pushing past her and placing his hands on the shoulders of his sister’s best friend, gently inquiring as to how she was, while Elsie openly stared at Robin Ivanov, the only man she could not think up a proper revenge for.

The subtext was evident.

How dare you.

But how dare she pay Robin more mind than Claire. She clamped her jaw tight and turned to Claire. “Is everything-“

“Same. Avery wanted time alone.”

Elsie frowned but Claire shook her head at her, informing the brunette that opinions were not needed or welcome. This was how the day was going to go. Avery would get her way. Robin would be here. And her father would pass. That was how it was going to go.

Even though it was not for him, the tight embrace brought some calm into Robin's chest. He felt Avery sink into him and he held her ever closer until she pulled away to look at him.

"Don't apologize. You know I wouldn't be anywhere else." She kissed him on the cheek and he closed his eyes, soaking in the soft touch. This scene felt strange, while Avery was certainly not happy in this moment, that did not stop it being one of the first times Robin felt that he was doing more good than harm by being there in a time of crisis. He couldn't pinpoint what the reason for this change was. Had he gradually become a more supportive husband, finally able to identity and take care of his wife's emotional needs? Or had she finally come to accept and appreciate the nurturing that he always had offered but simply hadn't been understand? Likely, it was a bit of both. But whatever the reasoning, the change was welcome. 

Without warning, Robin was pulled into the hospital room of Mathias Bishop. Within a millisecond the air seemed to go dry with the solemnness of the situation. This feeling of death was one that Robin had always done his best to avoid, unconsciously putting off visiting ailing relatives, often until it was too late. No one really knew what to say or do at times like these but Robin had a particularly poor bedside manner. In his very best efforts to continue being a good little husband he followed Avery's lead silently. 

There was barely a second to adjust to his new space before Robin was pulled in front of an older woman who was quickly addressed as Avery's mom. He was barely able to get out "I'm glad to finally meet you" before he found himself being pulled into a hug. The gesture caught him off guard, leaving his arms hanging uselessly at his sides. With no small amount of confusion (with the slightest undertones of fear) plastered across his face, Robin tentatively reached up and gingerly patted his mother-in-law on the back. The hug broke up about as quickly as you would expect a hug between strangers to and Robin took a step back to survey the scene. 

That was when he saw her. 

She was already looking at him, causing an unavoidable eye contact that, at that moment, Robin would have done anything to be able to break. He felt like a second year getting caught staring at his crush across a classroom - embarrassed, even though she had started it. Claire turned away first and Robin followed close behind, pretending that the pattern on the curtains was the most interesting and important thing in the room. He couldn't look at Mathias or Else. He certainly couldn't look at Claire. After a long moment he turned to look at Avery but she seemed unphased by the discomfort that Robin was sure poured out of him.

Avery asked for time alone with Mathias and Robin hovered closer to her as others filed out of the room. "I'll be right outside." he murmured to her, his voice not nearly as tell-tale as he expected it to be. On the contrary, Robin sounded quite calm, surprisingly comforting, despite his racing mind and twisting chest. He reached out and squeezed Avery's hand once before turning to follow the Bishop girls out into the hall. 

Once out of the room Robin found his gaze immediately snapping back to Claire. That half a second had been so unexpected, so brief, so private, that it hadn't completely registered. Out here, Claire looked very solid and very real. He was staring freely now, working to process what exactly was happening. 

Over the last three years Robin had considered almost every possible scenario where he and Claire could be reunited. The fantasies ranged from running into each other in the cereal aisle to Robin showing up unannounced on her doorstep. They never really went beyond that - a hello and maybe a smile. But silence was only comfortable in daydreams and suddenly Robin was feeling helplessly unprepared for the situation he now found himself in. What were you supposed to say? 

And then suddenly Robin didn't have to figure that out. 

Of course she would be here. Of course. Elsie Norton was to Claire what he was to Avery. The best friend, the lifeline, the shoulder to cry on, and, unfortunately for Robin, the protector. She looked ready to kill and at this moment he would have been happy to die. 

Robin slumped into one of the poorly cushioned chairs that were placed sporadically along the wall. Having both girls standing there was giving him the slightest of headaches and a large ache in his chest. He wanted to speak. Of course he did. He had been waiting for this moment for years. But sitting here in the hospital was not at all like his fantasies. There were no gentle smiles or bashfully squeaked out hellos in this scenario. Someone was dying. 

"How long has he been like this?" 

Hi Claire 

“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.” -- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Claire was unhappy. Avery had expected as much, of course. But it didn't make it any easier to watch them leave, to watch Robin follow, and wonder what would be happening once the door closed and she would be forced to focus on her father instead of that drama. Just when she was finally trying to invest in her family, and just when she finally found her place with someone, her sister became angry with her for it. It didn't matter that Avery was the elder Bishop daughter. Right then, she felt like a child again, trying to understand what had gone so wrong.

Avery hesitated for a moment, looking from her feet to her father as he lay there, unconscious. It would be better not to waste time, she realized. Taking ages would just upset Claire further, and that wasn't a good idea. And, obviously, it wasn't fair to take time away from the girl who had known him better. But she couldn't help but want to get out all of the things she had once wanted to say but had never been brave enough to manage aloud.

Somehow, she still couldn't cry. It wasn't that she didn't ache inside. This was the second time she was losing him, though, and the first time had felt just as real. Had he ever talked about her? To anyone? Did Agnes know about her because Mathias mentioned her? Or because she talked to Else and the girls' mother got in touch with Avery that first time, so they were forced to meet? She wouldn't have been surprised.

Her feet carried her to the chair closest to his head, and she nearly fell into it thanks to the sheer anxiety flowing through her. She couldn't let herself actually reach out and touch him, but she did settle one hand on the bed next to his arm, deciding to get what she needed to say off of her chest so that she wouldn't take ages and ages. She wasn't oblivious to how awkward the situation in the hallway must have been.

"Hi, dad." She attempted, her voice carrying a bit of embarrassment, even as it held that excitement that she had not prepared herself for. There was so much he deserved to know. She wasn't sure if he could hear her, of course, but she chose to believe that he could. It made it easier, to say the least.

"I've missed you... And that's my fault. So I just- I mean, you have to know I'm sorry. Don't you? I know what I've caused. At the time, it didn't seem so misguided. But it's pretty obvious, now, that I tore this family apart. It wasn't anything you or mom did, you know. It wouldn't have gone so badly if I hadn't made it..." Avery shook her head, unable to look at him no matter her desire to do so.

Attempting to make things a bit brighter, even though it wasn't actually possible, she changed tacks. "There's so much I've wanted to tell you. Did you know I went to university? With Keiran and Gavin. You'd like them, I think. They're really good guys. I haven't seen them much lately, though. But yeah. I work at the Ministry, with dragons. It's still kind of crazy, even to me. I had to get married a while back, because of that law, remember? I shouldn't say that I had to, really. Robin is..." Avery hesitated, trying to find the words. Somehow, things she had never properly registered escaped her lips before she could stop herself. And if anyone had questioned her feelings for him, the amusement and affection laced into her tone would have been enough. "He's everything, dad. I never let myself get stuck on somebody before this one. We've had some really bad times, but no marriage is perfect. But I think that a love can be. I've never wanted anyone to want me more than Robin. And not in, like, the embarrassing sense," she added quickly, her cheeks burning as though he would judge her for it. "Just... I really want him to keep me.

"Sometimes it seems he won't. And the arguments we have are mainly my fault, which I know is kind of shitty, but-"

A cough met Avery's ears and her eyes flew to his. "Language," he managed to say, chiding her gently.

Avery's mouth opened, trying to find an excuse or an apology. But then- "D-Dad?!" He was... awake? He wasn't supposed to be, was he? She looked towards the door almost frantically, knowing she should go get someone. When she turned her gaze on him again, it was almost like looking into the eyes of someone who knew they had been defeated. He didn't have the hope that she wanted to be present there, because he knew just as well as she did - as they all did - that he wasn't going to make it.

A sudden urge to bring Robin in, to somehow make it right for their not being at her wedding, overwhelmed her. Avery stood, finding a smile for him. "Dad, there's someone really important I'd really like you to meet, if that's okay? He's just outside."

She hesitated only a moment before turning and crossing the room, her hand gripping at and turning the handle with more impatience than even the woman herself expected. When it opened, her gaze fell on Robin first, thankfully. "Hey, can you-?"

"Avery?"

The sound of her name barely reached her ears as Mathias called out after her. She held up a hand to Robin, as if to say that it might not be necessary. Maybe her father didn't actually care about meeting her husband. And why should he? She realized belatedly how ridiculous it would seem to everyone else. But that didn't make her want it less.

"Where's Claire? I want to see her."

Avery had never truly understood what someone meant when they said their heart felt like it had shattered. Was that this? Was that this terrible, suddenly gaping emptiness that told her she had no right to be upset but that, at the same time, demanded that she do nothing else but finally bring tears to the surface? And she thought she'd felt bad before...

Hardly. That was nothing. Her fights with Robin weren't nothing, but compared to this pain she felt, they were just blips on the radar. Robin wasn't going anywhere. Some part of her knew that, despite Claire sitting right in front of her and forcing her to toy with the idea that he could change his mind and tell her to leave. Forcing her to wonder if, the next time he picked up their daughter, he wouldn't wish she was Claire's instead. This was everything. Loss and hatred and despair all rolled into one.

His request had been so soft that she wanted to tell herself she heard it wrong. But she was standing in the doorway like a fool, thinking that he might at least tell her he cared before sending her away and bringing her sister in, instead. Apparently she truly was foolish. Just as Kent was so enamored of telling her back at school. He had figured it out, of course. He knew why she avoided Claire Bishop and her friends like the plague. It didn't matter that she had somehow convinced everyone that, despite the name similarity, she had never seen the girl before. How funny, her few friends had mused, that they looked so similar. Avery had always said it was frightening, not funny.

This, too, was frightening. Frightening in the sense that she was feeling trapped. Her feet wouldn't move and all she knew was that she had to turn around and tell Claire to go in. Obviously they all deserved to know he was awake. How incredibly selfish of her. That, of course, would be something Robin might say shocked him. He always seemed so upset with her for trying so hard to be selfless. Sometimes it wasn't even intentional, that need. After the accident, when she just wanted to know if he felt safe. Apparating made him want to raise hell, but he hadn't done. Why was it so bad that she'd asked him? She wasn't deserving of much sympathy in some ways, though. He didn't get upset with her for being selfless all the time. Because she definitely wasn't. He hadn't done so regarding Christmas, certainly. That was her own fault. And this was the same. Just so.

There were many things Avery was not good at. Communication, primarily. Choosing the right times to argue. Knowing when to stop taking shots at Keiran (though she always did mean to make him feel better, honestly. Well, mostly, anyway). One skill she had never, and would never, master? Why, that would be the ability to actually blink back tears. Isn't that something people wrote about in stories? The character hides her tears from those least deserving of a glance at her emotions. Avery had never been able to do that. Once they finally set in - rather, once she was destroyed enough to recognize the need for them - there was nothing she could do.

"He's awake," she said, finally. Nothing she did could make her turn and look at them, it seemed.

She realized, just then, what it was she had wanted in bringing Robin in. She wanted to tell him about her daughter. As if that would make him proud somehow. It sure as hell couldn't make him better, so why bother? It would probably have just hurt him to know he'd never met her. Of all days to be a bad person, Avery had chosen the wrong one.

When she spoke again, even Avery herself was shocked at how monotone she sounded. How, as Robin might have put it, blank. "He wants Claire."

Without even the pretense of seeming put together enough to accept this trade, Avery snatched up her phone and lurched forward, rushing to escape the hall that seemed impossibly confining. Her feet carried her past grieving families so much more affectionate than her own. Past the lobby desk, where a man was demanding to see his girlfriend despite not being family, technically. She found herself bursting through the doors and practically falling forward, her hands finding her knees as she realized what she had subconsciously done. Who on earth could she call about this? Surely not Keiran. Not anymore. Bridget would be ashamed of her. Not nearly as much as Avery was of herself, but enough to be noticeable.

She wanted to throw the phone, to shatter it until it lay before her in as many jittery pieces as she felt like just then. But it wasn't that sort of anger or sadness that she felt. Not the outwardly destructive kind. She was a child being turned away by her father this time, instead of her mother, though that had obviously happened before, too. Always Claire. Forever the younger sister. The one who had just misunderstood, and somehow been thrown under the bus by her older, supposedly wiser sister. How wise could an eight-year-old be, though? Clearly not at all.

Avery had somehow managed to reap up all that she had sown, but had only just realized that she had quite truly brought it all upon herself. Here she was, a grown woman crying over being less liked than her sister. What sensible person did that? Robin never would have. Gender aside, there was no excuse for it. And like the dreadful attempt at an adult - at a wife - that she had become, Avery had just run away again, instead of putting her faith or her heart in the only hands that had ever truly held either.

Claire turned her body so she could look down the hallway at her mother and Agnes, trying her best not to look at Robin. But it was like looking at a scary image in a movie. Looking away only increases the scare factor, so the image must be confronted head on, so that every mistake and flaw could be registered, making the image less real, less scary. And, really, Robin Ivanov surrounded by her family was one of the scariest images Claire Bishop could have conjured.

Ben could feel his sister bristling beside him, a fact lost on Claire as she turned to face the wall, trying to focus on something constant so as the gather her strength. Ben turned to look at his sister, who glanced up at him, quickly drawing up a bracing smile, one that certainly did not match her eyes. Ben's lips twitched in confusion, but he also knew how protective Elsie had always been over Claire, even when it was unjustified. Ben had never pried into the relationship, but as far as Ben knew, Robin had been the one wronged. Claire had left him in her ambitious dust as she sprinted off to America.

So, Elsie really had no reason to be upset with him.

He was approaching. Claire could feel it. He collapsed into a chair nearby and Ben stepped forward to shake hands with the man and give a grim expression that expressed his somberness due to the situation. Elsie bristled once more, unseen by brother and best friend. She swallowed and turned around, sucking a long breath in. Her face had to look pleasant. She had to be good. She had to do it for Claire.

There was a lot of pushed down emotions for the sake of others going on.

Robin spoke and Elsie and Ben both glanced at Claire. She was the one with the information and the history - they were just the moral support. She straightened up, looking at the two of them as though surprised to find she still had social obligations, regardless of the situation. One of her fingers awkwardly trailed along her neck, trying to do something with her hands. She slowly turned to look at Robin, her breath caught in her lungs, her [url=http://cdn2.thegloss.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/Blake-Lively-Hair-7-GIF.gif]expression/url] clearly showing how unprepared she was for all of this.

She opened her mouth, hoping to breathe. Words came out instead. "We, um, had a scare a few months back. Apparently, we had reason to be scared. He didn't tell us. We just found out, less than an hour ago."

Suddenly, Avery's voice reached them. They all turned to look at her, but her attention had been redirected to the room. Claire could only imagine what that meant of her father, so she broke from the group, immediately approaching. She stopped in her tracks, however, when Avery returned, her face turned to stone. The others had taken a few steps to follow her, but Avery was approaching.

He was awake.

He was awake.

They would be able to talk to him.

Show him they loved him.

Show him all would be okay.

And he wanted to talk to her.

Claire squinted in confusion, turning to look at Elsie as though the brunette would understand. But, of course, no one understood the workings of a man they did not know well. Claire turned back to Avery to ask if she was okay with that, but Avery was hurrying passed, practically running. Claire turned to gape after her, before taking a step.

And there was Agnes. "No, Claire. Please. Talk to him. You, young man," she looked to Ben. "You asked to be put to use. Go get Avery, please." Her demands were spoken gently, out of a desire to make this difficult situation even easier.

Everyone blinked and then, surprisingly, obeyed. Claire nodded at Elsie, sucking in her bottom lip, before turning on her heel. Ben turned around and hurried after Avery Bishop. He might not have known her very well, but he understood Claire and Elsie better than they would admit. He had a charm and quick mind, and a gentle spirit that may actually do some healing. Everyone else was too close to the situation. He hurried after her, finding her right outside of the hospital, nearly inconsolable.

He stared at her, seeing how different she was from Claire. Claire wouldn’t be crying, wouldn’t be trying to do was right for herself. And that wasn’t anything against Avery. It didn’t speak to weakness or selfishness. Here was a woman letting herself feel. And it was a nice change from what he had grown accustomed to.

“Avery,” he ventured, not approaching her. “I know I’m not apart of this… But I think you would regret not being apart of it. Even if you’ve been hurt, or wronged. You’re not going to want to miss this.”

Claire made it into the room where her father was looking at the wires attached to his body. She paused in the doorway, torn in a million different directions. She would get to speak to him, but it would probably mean never speaking to Avery again, by the way the woman reacted. She would have this time with her father, the only thing that could give some sort of okayness to this horrible situation, but once it was over, it was over. Then began the world where she had to face her family, her lost love, and recognize her failure as a daughter and sister.

It was time to step up now.

“Dad.”

And, of course, all of this meant that Elsie Norton was left alone with Robin Ivanov, as Else and Agnes attempted to form some semblance of a relationship. Elsie looked over at the man who had once nearly been her best friend, the boy she had lost her virginity with, the boy who had been her bright, shining future. She had lost him to Claire, and had done so with a grim smile because at least they would be forever. But they had ruined that, and then he had married Claire’s sister.

So, yeah. She wasn’t thrilled to be left alone with him.

“It’s nice of you to support your wife,” she said tersely. “Standing by the people you care about is an important virtue.”

When had he finally learned that?

A few years too late.

Robin didn't know what to do. 

Any time Robin had been in a situation even remotely like this, his first response had always been to flee. As his track record with Avery had proven, bad things generally happened when the Russian tried to stick out a confrontation and talk his way through it. It was much safer and easier to simply excuse himself from a room (or a country) when personal issues came to the surface. But here he was, practically tethered to this chair out of obligation to Avery. How he would have loved to run. 

This wasn't how it should be happening. Robin was staring to really wish that he had taken the leap earlier. He should have gotten on a train as soon as he learned that Claire Bishop was back in the country and just gone to her. That conversation, no matter how difficult it might have felt, would have been a thousand times more preferable to this. Instead of the pleasant, albeit a bit awkward, moment of reconciliation that he had always pictured, Robin now got a grieving Claire, an angry Elsie, and a wife standing in the next room. 

Claire responded and Robin managed a weak condolence. 

It was hard to feel truly sorry about Mathias Bishop when you were feeling so sorry for yourself. 

Before Robin could open his mouth again Avery burst out of the room to announce that her father "wanted to see Claire" and proceeded to bolt down the hallway. Robin stood, his gaze matching the others in the hallway as they all watched her retreat. There was a moment of shocked silence, a pause, and then Agnes sprung into action. Robin found himself simply exchanging looks of confusion as Claire was directed back into the room and Ben was sent after Avery. Suddenly the only woman who was there to meet his confused stares was Elsie. 

As strange as it was to admit, Robin remembered Elsie's expressions like they had been at Durmstrang only yesterday. The subtle twitches in her face were familiar as she stared him down, a subtle reminder of how little had changed since his teen years. Where Claire looked slightly older and colder than when he had last seen her, Elsie was practically a time capsule. She appeared to have the same bouncing brown curls, the same fashion sense, even the same look of subtle disapproval that was so good at slipping under Claire's radar while still hitting Robin right where it counted. 

He was trapped more than ever. Ben had been quick to run after Avery and going after now would not only be seen as overprotective but also rude to the lady whose company he had just been forced upon. Robin had no sooner begun pondering how long they would have to sit in uncomfortable silence when she spoke. The jab in her tone was enough to kill a few of the nerves that had been circulating in his stomach. 

"And you," Robin replied lightly. "Claire must be so glad you're here. She's lucky to have such a loyal friend." 

Robin glanced down the hallway again, wondering how soon was too soon to make a checkup on Avery and Ben.  

If Avery had known that Robin didn't have a choice, perhaps she would have been more polite to the man who found himself forced to do what he could in order to calm her down. She didn't want him there. She didn't want to be anywhere near him, or Claire, or any of them. And yes, she was childish in that moment, but to be quite plain, she was childish almost all the time, even if she didn't act on it. Being forced to 'grow up' didn't mean that she had actually accomplished it, emotionally. Without anyone to support her, nothing had ever seemed to go right, and she couldn't even begin to imagine what might have happened if she had stayed home. So, really, it wasn't like she just chose to flop back and forth between emotions. She just couldn't help it. If she hadn't left perhaps this would have been a far more loving affair, and she wouldn't have even been upset with Claire for loving Robin.

Then again, she wouldn't have Robin if she had stayed. She wouldn't have Keiran, or Max to run into at work, and she most definitely would not have her new family. She didn't want to go back and change it. She just wanted to somehow turn off everything inside of her and be some frigid... uncaring thing for the next hour. If she could just get home, she could curl up in bed with Ari and potentially convince Robin to sit there with them.

If he wasn't pissed at her, that is.

"Look," she replied sharply, having paused to stifle what emotion she could and clear her throat. "I don't know why, exactly, you think that I would want to go inside. And, I'm betting it isn't actually your fault, but it's pretty much the most irritating thing I've ever experienced, to show up twice and see you and your sister here before I've even been informed. That really sets me off."

Pushing off of the steps, Avery frowned darkly at Ben and wiped at her cheeks quickly before facing him properly. How she had gone from desperately unhappy to righteously angry in those mere moments was something she could not explain. Perhaps it was that desire to turn the emotion off. Maybe it hadn't worked, but more just switched around. Some part of her had flipped over when Ben opened his mouth to address her, and that anger that she had never been able to harness when dealing with conflict like this? Avery finally found it.

Ohhh, Merlin, but Robin was going to be so upset with her for this. For all of it.

And why shouldn't he be? Look what she had done. Still, she was bristling like she had never managed to before when it came to these things, so she waited only a moment before storming past Ben, and returning to the hallway. Belatedly, she did feel slightly sorry for him. But not enough to not act as she was. It felt rather grand, somehow, to feel so very strong, even if it came from how furious she felt. Ben had no right. But, moreover, her family had no right to make her feel like nothing. Only one person held that power, and he was currently attempting to have a conversation with Claire's best friend.

She didn't approach Robin fully, instead crossing her arms over her chest and shifting her weight. It was easier to think that her father was alive and unsure where his daughter was than to register that he did know - he had known - but he didn't want her.

"I don't want to stay here."

Was that a jab? Was he really putting into question whether or not Elsie was truly friends with Claire Bishop? Was he the only person in the entire world who looked at the pair and questioned Elsie's undying loyalty for the blonde woman?

Of course he was. Because he was the only one who knew that Elsie Norton had been lying to Claire for years.

Perhaps not a lie, but it was certainly an omission, and not the kind of omission that was easily forgotten or forgiven. And Robin must have known the secret had never been spilled. Because even Claire, vault of feelings that she was, would not have been able to hear that she had accidentally split up her best friend and the man she loved without having some sort of vocal reaction to it, some sort of expression reserved only for the sort of hurt and confusion such a reveal would generate. Claire's ignorance was just as obvious as Elsie's hard-retained disappointment and anger.

Hell hath no fury.

"She is, isn't she," Elsie responded. It wasn't clever, of course, but she tried to make it cut nevertheless. "That's the thing - I haven't screwed it all up yet. Don't intend to."

She was asking for it.

Before Robin could give it, however, Avery was back. Ben followed at a distance, evidently learning that while Claire and Elsie were tough cookies within their own right, Avery Bishop held a special sort of stubborness. Whereas Elsie was determined to shirk consequences and Claire was determined to shirk feeling, Avery was determined to hide from compassion.

"I don't want to stay here."

"Are you kidding me?" Elsie blurted, looking at Avery in surprise.

"Elsie," Ben warned.

"No, I'm actually curious."

Ben shook his head. "Elsie, it's bad enough we're here. We're not family."

Elsie scoffed, gesturing towards Robin, "We're as much family as he is." She looked back at Avery. "Look, I know you're going through something I do not understand right now and while I'm sorry I don't understand, I'm also really glad I don't have to understand, not yet. What is happening is the actual worst. And I get that. I do. I know I'm an idiot, but there is one thing I know for sure. You don't get to choose your family. But you get to choose the kind of family you are. I'm here because Claire and I chose to be there for each other, no matter what. Ben's the kind of family that kept in touch with Mathias, because the few times they met, they got along so well that Ben asked him for down-to-earth advice our silly father couldn't give. We're the sort of family who rushed to the hospital because if you decided you were feeling a bit hungry while you waited, we could pop out and bring back donuts for everyone."

She couldn't stop. "And I know that, 'til now, the Bishops have been making questionable choices on the sort of family they wanted to be. But you're not stupid. You don't want to leave and miss the opportunity to say good bye. You think he doesn't want to see you? Shut it. Don't make this about your feelings towards Claire. You think this hurts? Try leaving. Try getting the phone call that he's gone. Try having your last memory with him being you throwing a fit. That's how you will remember it. Despite the righteous anger and the honest pain you feel right now, you will hate yourself for leaving now."

Elsie shook her head. "Now's the time to choose the sort of family you have, Avery."

There was a pregnant silence after Elsie released all of the thoughts in her head. She was surprised, as was Ben, that such words could even flow from her mouth in such a coherent pattern. But would it change anything?

"Avery."


Mathias glanced up as his younger daughter stepped into the room. He managed a smile, masking his wince as he attempted to sit up. She stepped forward, placing a hand on shoulder, shaking her head with a firm no - he musn't move. He smiled. "Always bossing me around," he jokes. "Don't know where you got it from."

"You," she said. "You were very bossy at work. I took notes."

"And I assume your just as bossy at your work, now?"

Claire nodded. "Yes, you'd be proud. I have no friends." He smiled. Say what she could about Mathias, but he had always been one of the few to recognize a Claire Bishop joke... the one that came every three years. Claire blinked, refusing to sit down. She knew if she sat down, she wouldn't be able to leave. And she could not afford herself that wish right now. Not when there were other people who needed that seat.

Another person.

"You lied to us," Claire said.

Mathias paused. "You know, Claire. Being a parent... it's weird. I don't think your mum and I were ever people meant to be parents. Not proper ones. We told you you and your sister too much of the bad and not enough of the good. Agnes... She made me realize how rarely I told you, or Avery, or even your mum how beautiful you are. Or how proud I am. I haven't asked you about America. Or your sister about her husband, or the baby. So, I thought, maybe... it'd balance the scales if, this time, I didn't tell you the bad. To make up for not telling the good."

Claire stared at her father. It was the most he had said to her in... a long time. And he had never spoke like this. About himself, and how he felt, and what he thought. She was glad she was getting this opportunity. She wouldn't have known what she was missing.

"Brains." Mathias gave her a look of confusion, so she continued, "That's another thing I'm not sure where I got it from."

Mathias actually managed a laugh, but it was very soon transformed into coughs. Claire gripped his hand and squeezed, waiting. He wheezed, "Brains and bossiness. You're quite a creation."

She paused, weighing her words carefully. "Can I demonstrate my bossiness for you?"

He smirked, apparently hoping for a joke. "Fire."

"You need to talk to Avery."

The smirk fell, and Mathias took in a deep breath, looking down. "I know."

"You know?" Claire repeated. "Then why did you tell her you wanted to talk to me, first? That was shitty, dad. She felt bad. She wanted to talk to you. Wanted to make things right."

He shook his head. "I know. I know."

"You know?" Claire said.

"Are you a parrot?" Mathias asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Father."

It was commanding. It was firm. It was the word she had not used since she was eleven years old. Mathias looked up at her, and Claire saw how truly lost he was. He trembled a bit. He choked the following words out. "I don't even know my granddaughter's name."

It was the saddest thing she had ever heard in her entire life.

"Ariadne."

"Ariadne," he repeated, nodding his head. Claire smiled.

"You sound like a parrot."

He made a noise, a bit like a laugh, and a bit like a sob. Claire waited, giving him his time. He took in a deep breath. "I'm not good... with words," he said. Claire slowly nodded her head. She knew. They were alike in that way. "I... How do I make up for it? For it all? For everything I didn't do."

Claire sighed. "You start with I'm sorry."


"Avery."

The crowd turned to face Claire Bishop, as they had all focused in on Elsie's spectacular display of intrusive advice-giving. Claire Bishop's cardigan hung from her shoulders so comfortably it was hard to guess this was a woman who spent most of her time in fitted suits, talking numbers and cracking whips. Something of her hard exterior was gone, and for once, she wasn't taking in the whole scene at once, attempting to get a feel for it all.

She only had eyes for her older sister, who needed a protector right now. And even if she didn't know it, she had one in her. At least today.

"He wants to see you," she said. "He was embarrassed. Wasn't sure what to say. Needed some coaching. Good thing it wasn't mom. Would have freaked out." She glanced to her mom, smiling, to assure her that everything was going to be alright. It was going to be. At least for them.

Laughter, some said, was the way to heal the soul. That morning, Avery had laughed brightly with their cousin, who perhaps wasn't even aware, yet, of what was happening to one of her "uncles" who was actually just a cousin. But Avery knew. Claire knew. Neither, however, were aware of the fact that, in a matter of minutes, they would be reluctantly laughing together at a poor explanation of Ariadne's attempted words that were really only just sounds. Right then, while Elsie was talking, Avery didn't feel anything except maybe surprise. It was hard to properly register what she felt when she was being told off and advised at the same time.

She had no idea at all how to respond to that, and it wasn't like she knew Elsie very well at all, but Avery had never heard the brunette talk so much. She couldn't judge on whether or not it was a strange occurrence, except that Ben - who she had just quite literally b*tched at - seemed to want her to be careful with her words.

Avery had started to sweep her gaze towards Robin, wondering if he had any idea what to do with the situation, but her name was uttered so the turn of her head stopped halfway. Okay. So Avery could deal with feeling childish. That she could handle. But she didn't like the idea that she had made her own father feel guilty. That's what it sounded like, after all. Looking down, Avery took a moment to push away the overwhelming and confusing mix of emotions she felt just then. Robin probably thought she was insane. And, honestly, she felt it. She really did.

If Claire bothered with her after this, Avery would be spectacularly amazed.

But she nodded, finally, and moved towards Robin, passing him her phone. Offering a look that clearly said she knew she had a great deal of explaining to do, Avery let her fingers drift across his shoulder before moving away and joining Claire inside.

"I don't want to stay here."

Robin saw Elsie's gaze shift towards the voice and he turned around to face Avery. She was standing with her arms crossed, an expected anger in her eyes. God, Ben. What did you say? 

Robin shifted forward, glancing between Avery and the door to Mathias' room uncertainly. His gut told him that leaving in this moment would be a bad idea but who was he to argue? Robin knew surprisingly little about the inner-workings of the Bishop family dynamic and he didn't want to make suggestions when she sounded so certain. If it didn't affect him and he didn't understand it sometimes it was easier to smile and nod. 

Before Robin could make a move either to leave or attempt reasoning with her he heard a sudden "Are you kidding me?" from behind him. 

And then she was off. 

Robin remembered Elsie Norton rants. He had heard them over everything from dress codes to bad dates to her parents. In a way, a screaming Elsie was the most trustworthy and comfortable because she was all there, letting it out at a very high volume. Perhaps that was what made the awkward silence he often shared with her so unbearable. Robin could always anticipate the rant simmering just under the surface but it never came. 

In the end, Avery went into the room. Robin glanced over at Elsie and the Ben, trying to gage where he now stood with the man who had just sent his wife back in a silent rage and the woman who probably wanted to scream at him as much as she had Avery. 

"Thank you" 

The simple two word phrase hung in the air. 

"She needed to see him," Robin clarified. That fact was much clearer now that the scene had progressed. Of course he would be dealing with the emotional fallout of this night no matter what. But what would be worse? Getting shouted at in a hallway or never saying goodbye to your father? 

Robin reached up and scratched his temple. 

Now he waited.