Responsibilities - Robin

“I’m tired of this.” Michaels looks down the alley. “We’re not here to deal with anything but that killer vamp. Stop coming to me every time you see someone in trouble. That’s the cops’ problem.”
It was futile coming to his team for any help. But Angus had already used up what little magic he had at his disposal scaring off the first couple creeps bothering a homeless woman. He’s exhausted and there’s no way he’s going to be able to help her next time.
“Angus, go back to that spot and don’t move until that vampire shows up.“
The Seelie words sear into his thoughts, choking and smothering as they settle like ash, snuffing out any sparks of defiance Angus might have tried to cling to.
He turns around and walks back down the sidewalk to sit with his back against the wall.
He’s only made it worse. Now, he can’t even get up and try to fight anyone off if they try to hurt Annie again.
He can look around him just enough to see that her spot is empty now, and he hopes that’s because she decided this corner had too many weirdos and found herself a safer place to sleep. He has to hope for the best case scenario. Someone has to be okay.
He gets stiff after about an hour, but his arms and legs won’t budge when he tries to get up and walk the aches out. He can’t even manage to shift his position just a little. He hates it when they use ‘don’t move’. ‘Stay there’ is a lot more comfortable, and is also Francis’s preferred turn of phrase. But it seems to be Michaels’s habit to use the more restrictive term.
They’ll come back and get me.
He keeps telling himself that as night turns into a grey, gloomy day. As a dull rain spatters down, drenching him in his thin clothes.
As hunger gnaws his stomach and cold numbs his body.
That vampire’s not coming. It’s daylight now, there’s no way the vampires will be moving again until sundown. His team should come get him now so they can go back to the agency.
He sits and shivers for another hour before he hears footsteps behind him. He can’t turn and look to see who it is, but he can tell by the step pattern that it’s Michaels. Since he’s the one who gave the order, he has to be the one to release it. Which must mean that it’s time to leave.
Michaels steps around in front of him.
“Angus, come with me now.”
Angus stumbles to his feet, cold and stiff and dizzy from being in one position so long. He wavers, leaning against the wall and trying to get some feeling back into his legs. Michaels just walks off without another word, or even so much as half an apology. Angus knows better than to expect one. No one would apologize to the van for leaving it out in the rain.
His bag is tossed to him from the doorway as the rest of the team steps out, and they all climb into the van to head back. Michaels is tense and angry, taking turns so fast Angus’s head keeps banging against the metal side of the van. There are enough seats up front for the rest of the team, but this is one of the four-passenger vans instead of the six-seaters. His team is able to requisition this one because technically Angus doesn’t need a seat. Fae aren’t exactly covered by the restraints regulations, so he can just sit in the back with the rest of the equipment.
He digs into his bag for dry clothes, finding a shirt and pants that have been washed enough times most of the dyes have leached out and won’t irritate his skin too badly. He shivers, stripping off his wet clothes and wrapping himself in a blanket to dry off. He’s so painfully cold.
He leans back against the side of the van and closes his eyes.