Robin fully intended to die for Cat.

Early autumn two years ago, months after Jimmy and Helga's wedding, when fingers of pale gold sunlight reached through the canopy and touched the floor of the woods, Robin brought Cat to the river. He'd been wearing his white shirt, newly washed and almost gold in the dappled light. His parents had waved them goodbye with a smile and went to help Jack with his potatoes.

"Where are we going, Robin?" Cat had asked, his voice the same low rasp.

"Straight to hell, buddy," Robin had replied grinning, nudging Cat.

The river was wide, and the racing waters snatched the blue cornflowers Robin threw in away. Robin remembered the light breeze ruffling his hair, the sight of Cat in his faded blue overalls on the grassy bank, the familiar scent of the woods. They'd found a toppled tree nearby, its gnarled roots struggling to keep itself anchored in the water, and Robin had stepped onto it without a second thought.

The rest Robin didn't remember well. He remembered one foot suddenly touching air instead of wood, and the shock of cold, cold water, and choking when he opened his mouth to scream. He remembered walking home, white shirt sticking to his body and soaked in the water that would have swept him away. He remembered his sore wrist, the way Cat had refused to let go.

He mostly remembered the way he'd shivered on the way home, the wet cloth latching onto his skin and the way the cool autumn breeze had turned into a biting cold one.

The sky was so much more gray now. The smoke still hovered over the village, smoke that feasted on the fear. Robin could feel his shirt sticking to him now, soaked in his sweat, as Jimmy pushed him towards the newly built prison. He was going to die. He was going to die.

The others were there already, and they turned to watch Robin as he stumbled towards them. Like he was going to a trial where the outcome was already decided. Cat too turned towards the sound, eyes searching for Robin even though he couldn't see, and Robin headed straight for him. Cat's overalls were covered in dirt and soot from the campfire, but they were still that faded blue.

Robin reached out to Cat, to hug him, to make sure he was real, to say his last goodbyes, and then Jimmy grabbed his arm. The mayor looked at him, eyes flat and dark, and pushed him towards the other villagers. The chain on his vest swung, gold and bright against the dark purple vest. He reached out and clasped one of Cat's shoulders. "Well? Give us your case, Catboy."

Cat's face didn't change, but Robin saw his knuckles turn white as he clutched his cane harder. "Well, it — it could've been me, but it wasn't. It wasn't. I wouldn't kill Cornelius. I just heard violence in the night."

"Yeah, he's blind. Maybe he just didn't see himself killing Cornelius," Jack snickered. At the same time, Helga said, "That violence that you heard was all me."

Cat looked at the ground near Robin, still trying to see him. "It'll be okay, Robin," he repeated. "It'll be okay. It'll be okay."

Robin took Cat's hands, pushing away Jimmy when the mayor tried to intervene. Cat let go of one hand and reached up towards Robin's head, accidentally prodding Robin's forehead before feeling the hat. The straw hat he'd made for Robin.

"Cat," Robin said, taking Cat's hand back into his own, "you're like a father figure to me. After my dad died..." His voice faltered. How could he say this in such a short time? How could he possibly tell Cat, now, how much he meant to him?

Jimmy managed to get between them again, shoving at Robin's shoulder, and pulled Cat farther away. Towards the iron bars that now shone from the side of the hill, towards the heavy door that nearly blended into the gray rock. The prison.

"If I go," Cat said, voice nearly inaudible, "carry on my legacy."

Jimmy was taking Cat to the prison. Jimmy was taking Cat to the prison. The thought finally registered in Robin's mind. No. This wasn't right. They couldn't think Cat was guilty. Didn't they all think Robin was the one?

Robin surged towards Cat again, but there was something holding him back, something binding his arms behind him.

"No, no," he cried, the sound weak. It was so cold, and this time the cold soaked into more than just his shirt. "No, Cat!"

The villagers were pressed against the cell now, crowing at Cat, but the blind man's eyes were locked on where Robin was. "Robin, it'll be alright!"

It was a lie. It was a lie, because then a gear shifted and the ground beneath Cat vanished and the man in the blue overalls was gone.