Home might have only been a few streets away, but for Robin it was the longest walk ever.

She'd given up running as soon as she realised Ant wouldn't bother following her so she was instead walking rather slowly, trying to catch her breath and let her heart calm down considering it had been beating like a war drum. At first she'd thought of getting the bus but it would have only been a few stops so not worth it at all, and she thought the walk would help clear her mind, but if anything it just made her feel even more full of regrets. She felt stupid that she'd not listened to John, as well as stupid that she'd not just gone home with Albert after work. She'd left all of her stuff in his car, including her coat, and given the fact it was mid-November, she hated herself for her poor judgement.

Still though, it was better than being with Ant. Even if her hands were tingling they were that cold despite being shoved in her skirt pockets, and her feet rubbing in her shoes from running, her breath clouding out in front of her it was that cold, she was glad she was alone. It felt like old times, like she was back home when she only really had her own company, and it was almost comforting after the whirlwind she'd just been through. Her first relationship wasn't at all like how she'd imagined it to be, she never imagined she'd be insulted not just by her best friend for her choice in men, but by the person themselves. Maybe she had the right idea back at home, to stick to herself and trust no one with her feelings, because at least that way she'd avoid situations like the one she had just escaped from.

It could have been much worse, she kept thinking. What if he'd not have listened, or what if she had just continued to go along with it and pretend she was alright? Part of her was proud of herself for standing up for what she wanted, but another part of her felt stupid for even being there. She should have recognised Ant wasn't a nice guy, rather than being charmed by his flirts. She should have seen he was just complimenting her for the purpose of sleeping with her, she should have listened to her instincts whenever she felt uncomfortable, rather than believe that she was meant to feel uncomfortable just because she was new to courting.

As irritated as she was with herself, she also felt a little betrayed, because she had trusted Ant, and had even started to like him, really like him. The pessimist in her had known it would probably never last, but she'd liked someone calling her pretty, someone caring enough to meet her after work and listen to her. Now though she realised it had all been a lie. She'd heard about men lying to women just to get into bed with them, her mother had told her plenty of awful stories whenever she was drunk and in a bad mood, but she hadn't believed Ant was that sort of guy. Turns out he was.

Robin tried to put him out of her mind. She focused on the street in front of her, trying to stay in the dim light shone down by the streetlamps as the rest of the road seemed to have fallen to darkness all of a sudden. She listened to her heels clicking against the paving, focusing on it as a beat as she tried to take her mind off everything else, but by not thinking about Ant, she left herself open to thinking about how much further she had left to walk, as well as just how cold it was. She had been fighting it the entire walk, but she eventually felt herself shiver, and then she couldn't stop shaking from the cold. It felt as though it could snow, though she refused to think that because that was the last thing she needed, to be walking home through a snowstorm wearing heels and no coat.

Only another few houses to go, she kept telling herself, her vision focused so far in front she barely noticed that she was walking past the bus stop, or that a bus had just pulled up, it's doors opening and letting passengers off. Perhaps she wouldn't have noticed it at all, if not for someone bumping straight into her.

"Oi, watch where you're fucking going," she snapped, not in the mood for the inconvienience, barely looking up to see who it ever was.

"Watch who you're swearing at," a familiar voice snapped back, and when Robin looked up she realised it was John, her stomach clenching together into a tight ball when she saw his frown.

John was the last person she wanted to see at that point in time, but yet he was also the only person she wanted to see. She didn't want to admit to him being right, not wanting to give him that satisfaction, but she was so relieved to see him and the fact that he didn't even look angry at her. Instead his frown seemed concerned, and she wondered just how much of a state she looked for him to forget their last parting words and instead practically drop his guitar case to take hold of both of her arms to look at her properly, looking her up and down as if inspecting her.

"What's wrong, Robin?" he asked, his frown growing when he felt her shivering. "Bloody hell, you're freezing, what you doing walking about in the cold without a coat? Dunno if your steel city is warmer this time of year but here in Liverpool we're sensible enough to not attempt catching frostbite,"

"Ever the bloody wit, 'ey Lennon," she remarked with a short, bitter laugh, not meeting his eye as her voice shook from how cold she was.

"Come on," he muttered, rolling his eyes as he sighed, shrugging his coat off and throwing it at her. "Put it on,"

"Bugger off, I don't need your pity," she told him firmly, though she hugged the jacket close to her chest, trying not to notice that it smelt like him, of booze, cigarette smoke, warmth and cheap aftershave, trying not to notice just how much she loved that smell.

"Freeze to death then, see if I care," he shrugged, picking up his guitar again and walking off, leaving her stood at the bus stop.

With no other choice, she quickly pulled the jacket on, pulling it tight around her as she fastened it up. It felt as though it was a warm hug, and she wondered if an actual hug from John would feel so good. She hurried to catch up to him, grateful that they were practically outside their houses, though she felt betrayed for the third time that night when she saw the lights off at Albert's, her uncle's car nowhere to be seen on the drive. No one was home, and her keys were in Albert's car. Maybe that was the final straw after a long, trying day, but Robin was surprised to find herself suddenly breaking down into tears.

Not just gentle, quiet tears, but she was full on sobbing, and she wasn't really sure why. It felt pathetic to be crying, especially considering she'd not cried so much even when her father died, but she found herself desperately covering her face, trying to stop John from noticing as she desperately tried to catch her breath, trying not to fully lose control of her emotions. She really didn't want to be crying, not in front of John, she didn't want attention or sympathy, but she couldn't stop herself. It was so frustrating, even more so when she felt John awkwardly wrap his arm around her shoulder, squeezing her gently as if he was attempting to reassure her.

"You're alright," he muttered to her quietly, and she felt him leading her off towards his house. "Come on, me Aunt's out at her sister's house, you can come to mine for a bit, get warm and stop crying,"

Part of her, after the day she'd had, really didn't want to. Only a few hours ago she'd been furious with John, she'd been so close to hating him. He'd ignored her, made her feel awful, but now he was practically hugging her, and before she knew it he had led her down his garden path and he was unlocking his front door, kicking his shoes off as soon as they were inside. Still so cold, she kept his jacket on, though she slipped her shoes off, trying to wipe her tears away as John took hold of her hand and pulled her into the living room. He'd taken hold of her hand once before, when they had been in the Cavern, except this time felt different. It felt more gentle, caring. His hard aggression from before had gone, back to being the awkwardly soft version of himself that he had been when he'd sung to her.

"Sit down," he gestured at the sofa while he bent down at the fire place, switching on the electric fire.

Robin didn't sit, instead she wiped the last of her tears away, hugging the jacket closer to herself as she looked around the room. She'd not paid much attention last time when she had been round for John's birthday, the night she met Ant, but now she was sober she noticed just how many pictures of John there was scattered around the room. His Aunt, despite all of John's moaning, was clearly proud of him, and she found herself smiling slightly as she saw the framed photograph on the mantelpiece, the one of him as a little boy, probably at the age of nine or ten, riding a bike.

"You were a cute kid," she told him as he got up, letting out a quiet laugh as he pulled a face.

"What happened there then?" he joked before he dug his hand into his jeans pocket.

Pulling out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, he flopped down onto the sofa. Not waiting to even ask her if she wanted one, he took two out of the packet, lighting them both up, placing one between his teeth before holding the other out to her. With a small sigh, Robin sat down next to him, taking the cigarette from him and immediately taking a long drag. He leaned over and picked up the ashtray from the coffee table in front of them, placing it on his knee as he took another long look at her.

"You gonna tell me what's gone on then?" he asked after a moment of silence. When she didn't answer, staring at the floor as she focused on smoking, he narrowed his eyes at her. "Thought you'd be at your boyfriend's house, the bloody mansion,"

"Well I'm sure you'll be very satisfied to know you were right, as usual," she spoke firmly, still not looking at him. "Ant's an arsehole who only wanted me for a quick shag, so well done you. You were right, and I'm an idiot,"

"No you're not, don't be daft," he sighed, trying not to worry about her as she seemed close to tears again, clenching one of his fists out of instinct. "What happened, Robin? Tell me. I promise I won't upset you again,"

"Again," she let out a bitter laugh, and John felt even worse for earlier. "Where've you been tonight then?"

"Paul's house, but that's not what matters at the minute," he shrugged off her attempt to change conversation, elbowing her arm gently as if willing her to open up. "I wouldn't be surprised if you hate me for earlier. I hate me too a lot of the times. I hate myself for the way I've been treating you, but I just... I couldn't be around to watch you fall in love with Ant. I never wanted you to hate me, but I didn't want to make things harder for you than it had to be, so I just thought I'd take myself out the situation and leave you to it, but then that made things worse because... Well, because I just hated myself for standing by knowing what a wanker Ant can be,"

"Nothing bad happened," she sighed, taking another drag on her cigarette, daring to meet his eye only to regret it the moment she saw the concern on his face. "Nothing that you hadn't told me about. He picked me up after work, drove me back to his, and without any real conversation tried to have sex with me. I thought I was okay with it, but then I wasn't so I made him stop, which he wasn't too happy with,"

"What did he do?" John asked, his voice faking calm when in reality the thought of Ant hurting Robin made him want to punch Ant until his fists went numb.

"Nothing, he just got mean, like you said he would," she shrugged, surprisingly emotionless, as if she was numb to it despite it hurting at the time. "He called me a few names, said some stuff, and I stormed out,"

"Robin," John said firmly, and she looked up and met his eyes again. "What did he say?"

"Nothing, John, it was nothing," she insisted, knowing he'd only get angry if she told him, but he took hold of her hand, squeezing it as if to encourage her, so she let out a long sigh, stubbing out her cigarette. "Fine. He was just insisting that cause I was his girlfriend we were meant to sleep together, but when I told him no, he just lost it. He called me a freak, that I should be flattered he wanted to shag me cause I'm fat and poor, and then he told me I'm an idiot who's gonna go nowhere in life. In short, he did exactly what you said he'd do, so you can go ahead and say 'I told you so' if you want,"

"Fucking hell, I'll kill the bastard," John practically snarled, stabbing out his own cigarette with fury, clenching his fist again, forgetting that he was holding Robin's hand to the point that he was squeezing it tightly, not that she minded. "How fucking dare he, you're... bloody hell, Robin, don't even think of listening to a word he says, he's the fucking freak,"

"Please calm down," she said quietly, feeling as though she wanted to cry again. "John, I don't care what he said, I'm more bothered that I fell for it all and that... well, that I actually liked having a boyfriend,"

John frowned as he looked at her, surprised that at her quiet tone, he actually calmed down a little. Why Robin had that influence over him, with just a few words in a gentle tone, he wasn't sure, but for her he instantly wanted to drop his anger, even if he was still imagining slamming Ant up against a wall and punching him in his smug little face. Whatever Robin was saying, she had obviously been hurt by him, but for her John didn't want to be angry, he just wanted to be there for her.

"It's shit that your first boyfriend had to be such a wanker," he muttered quietly, staring down at their hands, still intertwined. "But he's a stupid wanker too, because you're not an idiot. Whatever he says, you're smart, smarter than him, and you're beautiful too, you deserve much better than him,"

"God, you really feel that sorry for me you're calling me beautiful," she laughed, flashing him a small smirk. "I thought earlier on, what would my dad think to all this? Not just the living in Liverpool thing, cause he hated Liverpool, but the whole making friends thing and getting a boyfriend. I kept thinking, would my dad like Ant? And I think I realised that he'd think he's a cocky arsehole, and as soon as I thought that I just wanted to get out of there, I just wanted to go home and..."

Robin felt her chest tighten at the mention of her father, especially given the context, as if everything was hitting her all over again. Her life had changed so much over the last few months so quickly that she'd barely had time to process it all, but now she was sat with John, feeling surprisingly safe in his presence, she felt as though the impact of it all had crashed down on her. Part of her just wanted her old life back, her old flat, her old college, her Dad. She wanted things back to normal, back to the way she had been comfortable. She wanted to go back to life before tragedy and Liverpool, but at the same time, she wasn't sure how to imagine her life without all the changes, without her uncle, or her her new friends, or even John.

It was hard to even remember the pain he had inflicted on her earlier. Like he'd said, he had been frustrated, and she knew he wasn't the best at expressing his emotions, but now all that anger was gone, and she found herself comfortable with him, as if sat there in John's living room was the safest place for her in the world. Sat there next to him was the most comfortable she had felt since losing her Dad, and before she could stop herself she had moved to rest her head against his shoulder. John seemed to freeze awkwardly, not sure what to do, but soon lent his head against hers, moving his hand out of hers to instead wrap around her shoulders, the two of them now in a calm yet warm embrace.

"I hate talking about my Dad, but ever since he died I've felt so lost," she breathed out, feeling him stiffen slightly again at the mention of her father's death. "Every time I seem to settle down or feel like I'm finding my way things get in the way and I'm even more lost. Every time I step out or try to make choices about my life that I wouldn't have done at home something seems to happen and I just want to hide away until everything goes back to normal but I know nothing will be normal or the way it was again,"

John didn't know what to do, realising that this was the most vulnerable he had ever seen Robin. She was usually so strong, so stubborn in hiding her truth that it was a shock to hear her talking so openly, not to mention that was the first time she'd actually told him about her Dad. He'd suspected something had happened, why else would she move to Liverpool, just herself and her mother, and be bitter about it? Just because he'd guessed didn't make it easier, knowing her trauma was so much like his.

Robin talking about her father and the aftermath of loss made it nearly impossible to ignore his own, as much as John hated acknowledging it, especially since the way Robin spoke was the exact way he felt too. He'd not told her about his mother, but he was certain she knew, she must do, surely someone would have told her. That didn't make it any easier to discuss, but nothing about that day was easy. It hadn't been easy thinking that Robin would hate him forever for the way he'd treated her, and it wasn't easy feeling her shiver as she told him about what Ant had said and done. It was about time he faced up to doing something difficult, rather than always taking the easy option.

"I'm pretty sure anyone who loses a parent feels like that, cause, well, I'd bloody know," he shrugged, trying to keep his tone as casual as possible to try and keep the pain out of his words. He felt Robin move her head slightly to look at him, but looking at her was too hard, so he stared at the floor and focused on keeping his vision from not shaking. "I mean, look at me, perfect example, I've got a father who didn't give a shit enough to stick around and a dead mother thanks to some wanker police officer, so I've got double of that lost feeling. It's fucking shit,"

"It is shit," she confirmed with a nod, sniffing back more tears. "I'm sorry,"

"What you sorry for?" he frowned, still not able to look at her.

"For how... fucking crap the world is, it's unfair," she said, spitting her words in bitterness. "Y'know it doesn't have to be shit forever, we don't have to feel as though we're lost for the rest of our lives, but as of right now, that's all there is,"

"Yeah," he said simply, and as Robin still had her head on his shoulder she could feel him take in a few deep breaths as if to steady his emotions. "My Mum, and your Dad... I don't think they'd want us to ruin our lives over missing them, but that doesn't help the pain does it?"

"No," she nodded before lifting her head, looking up at him with wide eyes, in shock at how sad he actually looked. "I don't think it'll ever stop hurting, but maybe it'll become easier to live with. Plus, you know you have me. Grief is subjective, our losses aren't the same, but we can try to understand each other. We can be there for each other. We don't have to be lost alone,"

John wanted nothing more in that moment to kiss Robin. Her kindness, the way she was speaking such gentle words through a shaking voice, as if battling her own pain to help him, as well as the way she was looking at him was overwhelming. Her look wasn't one of sympathy, not like the sad, knowing looks he'd come to hate over the last few months, but one of solidarity, and it was as if, for the first time, someone had looked at him and actually tried to understand him and his emotions.

He wanted to kiss her, but knowing what Ant had done to her only hours before, he decided it wouldn't be right. The thought of kissing her made him unnerved, which was odd. He'd kissed plenty of girls before, yet Robin, as always, was special. He could wait until they were both a little more stable, so he settled for rubbing his thumb under her eyes, wiping away any leftover tears.

"I'm not ignoring you ever again," he mumbled quietly, knowing that it would be impossible to ever be angry with Robin again.

Robin was on the verge of telling him that he was a difficult person to ignore, what with the confusing way he made her feel, but she didn't get the chance before the front door burst open, and before either of them knew it, they were no longer alone.

"John, I've told you not to put the fire on before, think of the heating bill!" an irritated voice exclaimed, and just as Robin caught John rolling his eyes the pair of them got up from the sofa, coming face to face with John's aunt Mimi.

It was the first time both Mimi and Robin had seen each other properly, though Mimi had often seen Robin whenever she was looking out the window in disdain at her new neighbours. Her lack of enthusiasm for the newcomer to the street was perfectly matched, her face a perfect mix of a frown and grimace, looking between both John and Robin, as if to figure out just why she was in her home.

John, however, just offered his aunt a sarcastic grin, nudging Robin as she tried to look friendly.

"It's November, Auntie," John shrugged, before gesturing at Robin. "This is-"

"Yes, I know, but what's it doing in my house?" she asked bluntly, and Robin bit back a laugh.

"It's a she, Mimi, and she's called Robin," John replied, trying not to sound too protective, though he was clearly annoyed. "We go to college together, she lives next door but she was locked out, so I offered for her to come in with me for a bit. Don't see why it should be a problem,"

"Nice to meet you," Robin offered, stepping closer and holding out her hand, though Mimi just stared at it. "You have a lovely home,"

"Thank you," she replied curtly, her gaze still flicking in between the two of them. "Well, the lights are on next door so you should be going back to your own home now there's someone to let you in,"

"Brilliant," Robin responded with another smile, though she was secretly hoping that it was Albert at home and not her mother, not at all in the mood for a conversation with her. "I'll be going then. Thank you for looking after me, John. I'll see you tomorrow on the bus,"

"I'll see you out," he told her, trying not to glare at his aunt for ruining their moment.

True to his word, John showed her to the door, and from the porch they could both see a car on her front drive, the living room lights on, and through the blinds she could just about make out her Uncle's silhouette. She was surprised how resistant she was to go back to her house, wishing she had just a few more minutes with John, a few more minutes of that comfortable solidarity they had found.

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Word count: 4280

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