Disclaimer - I don't own WHR or any of it's characters.

A/N - This is my attempt at something a little less angsty, however that may not be true on all chapters. Some of these will be drabbles or double drabbles and others will be a bit longer. These don't go in a day to day order either, some will be weeks ahead of the previous chapter. However they will be chronological.

Robin was brushing her hair again. Every night without fail she took it down, shook it out and pulled the heavy brush through it – one hundred strokes per side. It didn't matter how late they arrived or how long she had been without sleep. It was always the same.

Her face was pale and drawn now, eyes half closed, posture slumped as if she were already defeated. Still, her arm moved purposefully, up and down, pulling the bristles through her golden locks.

"Why do you do it?" he asked.

"It's normal," she murmured.

It made him tired just watching her.