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Summary
It felt like everyone was so used to Robert getting egregiously maimed that it was a normal Tuesday for them. And maybe it would feel like that if Sonar wasn't the one to catch him. He keeps thinking of Robert's face, streaked in blood that poured from his nose and from the soot of the explosion. Cheek resting in the fur of his chest while they hit terminal velocity, racing towards a mutual death a half-mile in the clouds.
There was still a lingering current of fear that invaded the peripheral of his awareness anytime Robert was in question. Be it in the break room or watching the man walk home alone, it felt like he had to be somewhere near him. Just in case.
And somehow, Robert doesn't notice.