Chapter Text
Robert was okay, in the way that the rotten cheese in his fridge was okay: you might even think the moss was his thing, until you took a bite and got locked in the bathroom for the next few hours.
The fog in his head made every action a bit funny, not to the point where he couldn’t remember anything, but enough to wish he could. Isn’t that ironic? The great hero that his grandfather and father had been, as far away from him as they were. Lying on the floor of his empty apartment, it was easy to remember how it all began when he was barely a teenager, shrouded in grief for loss but inspired to do good. Now, on this “indefinite medical leave,” all those fifteen years didn’t feel real.
It sounds terribly pathetic, but that was for his personal taste. He has a habit of exaggerating the significance of things, he thinks, taking another sip of the gifted (and terribly cheap) whiskey. If he is a Mecha Man, then he is his father and grandfather, only many times worse, considering that he wasted every penny on this suit, and every minute on training, while still not being as capable as they were.
The only thing he ever managed to do better, that he really enjoyed doing while working as a hero (if you can call something he didn’t get paid for working), was doing the software part. It's something he would even be proud of on a better day, how much clearer and more acceptable the interface is, how much more convenient it is to have voice input, which neither his father nor his grandfather had, how he probably went on missions without a suit more often than they did, because he didn't need one to destroy doors that could simply be hacked.
He still is a mediocre mechanic, an even more mediocre chemist and physicist, capable of only repeating what he was taught and not very well at that - he seems to be a worse version of past generations, and who else would be better suited than him to sit at an office desk, or get drunk in an apartment, empty only because he didn't think he would get out of the fight alive.
Robert doesn't turn over on his side, falling asleep on the floor - choking on vomit in his sleep sounds too appealing.
***
“What car hit you?” the first thing he hears at work, and to be honest, he definitely feels like he’s been hit by some sort of truck. How did the idea of getting drunk before work could possibly seemed like a good one?
“Good morning to you too, Prism” he says, ignoring how painful the sound of the coffee grinder is and how his throat is cracking as he tries to shout over it.
“Ooh, I see someone had a really fun night” Visi giggles, her head and voice right next to his ear, as if hinting. Robert elbows her, enough of a hint to knock her off him, unfortunately not enough to shut her up “you could have invited us too!”
“You’ll be the next whore I call” he gives her a small bow as he pours himself a coffee, at which point he sees Prism taking a picture of him. Slightly hating how his hands immediately go up to his head, he tries to smooth hair anyway. If this deserves a photo, it must be worse than he thought.
It’s annoying though how these people have no sense of basic politeness. Isn’t there some simple etiquette not to pick on him when he wants to be alone in his miserable self? But, Robert thinks, it’s a bit strange to expect that from people who have spent their lives breaking the law.
He stopped. The women’s laughter was a sound in the background, they were insulting him, of course, but… Gods, how would they know what acceptable work ethics are? Visi herself said this was their first real job. They’re all adults now, but how do they know that punching people in the face is a bad way to vent anger when that’s what their colleagues-criminals did to them. That sneaking up on people in the locker room can be traumatic when, for them, it might be just a regular Tuesday at the bar. That kissing without permission, even if you back down later, is not an adequate confession, when perhaps it is the only way they admitted that they were in love. It’s not bothering Robert, but what if they do it to others?
“Rob-e-e? Roberto?”
They are learning quite well, have become much better heroes, because they knew what to do when Robert pointed out to them mistakes and what is unacceptable, and what, on the contrary, is good work. Only once was it necessary to explain how properly communicate with children, and the appearance of crying kids and angry parents became several times less likely on the calls. They didn't disappear, of course, but this time at least unintentionally.
“Earth to Robert!” he dodged the hit, and raised an eyebrow at Visi without being surprised.
“Hey man, ya good?” Prism didn’t seem genuinely concerned, but Robert still forced to pull himself together and smile, even though he wanted to rip out his own stomach and beat himself to death with it so he wouldn’t feel anything.
“Yeah, yeah, just got lost a bit” he looked up at the wall clock “shift in five minutes, see you later.”
And after shift he’d probably have a very long and very awkward conversation with Blaze. He certainly didn't look forward to this, but he’d already felt sorry for himself enough yesterday, and no matter how pathetic a person he was, Robert was trying to do his job as well as he could.
***
When shift ended, Robert just took off his headset, and sat in the chair for a solid ten minutes before going home. He still had to pick up Beef from Chase on the way, and perhaps for such a conversation it would be better to be a little more collected than he was now.
If he hadn't been the only one who could handle Z-Team, Blaze would probably have made him go home, but she limited herself to long sympathetic looks, and the offer of a longer break, which he politely declined.
Yeah, not a good ground for talking. Tomorrow.
***
The way Flambae laughed at him "dressed up for your boyfriend?" and only shut up at a perhaps slightly too irritated "jealous?" solved the situation by itself. Robert would not enter Blaze's office when she could assume it was something too serious. It would only give weight to such a minor situation and request. Tomorrow.
***
Robert never went to the office, just glanced at the door. He just had to think of something to say. That was it. He would speak with her Tomorrow.
***
She wasn't inside. It would be rude to come in. Tomorrow.
***
After the weekend. No point in ruining her mood.
***
It's Monday. No one wants to deal with that kind of shit on a Monday. Tomorrow.
***
Robert told himself he had forgotten, even as he spent the entire walk home with a strange sense of disappointment, defeat, and... shame. Well. Tomorrow.
***
She opened it when he stood at the door for a solid few minutes, not daring to knock. Only interapted by her running out somewhere from office. He just smiled at her, and said it wasn't urgent, Blaze smiled gratefully and ran on. Tomorrow.
***
Tomorrow.
***
Tomorrow. He would do it tomorrow, he…
***
On Friday of the second week, standing on the balcony of his apartment, where Beef was sleeping on Robert’s bed, and the clouds in the sky blocked out even the stars, in a moment so quiet that you could hear thoughts but place where no one was around to do it, Robert allowed himself a thought, one insignificant and unimportant thought that he was a bit afraid of.
Because maybe, just maybe, he was just running.
***
“Hey, you aren’t busy?” Robert opened the door, after a polite knock.
The longer he thought about it, the less he understood why he was doing what he was doing. There was a seventy percent chance that if she really was busy, he would never bring up the subject again, ever. It felt like blowing a farce on an empty spot, because the truth was quite easy – the team was making progress.
Easy to see how much better it was for them without pressure, but with praise for their achievements. And this?
Robert seems to be deliberately trying to ruin everything.
“Oh no, I have a couple of minutes for you, come on” she smiles, and Robert curses her a little for the open schedule. She frowns, as if noticing something about him, and Robert consciously forces himself to move less as he approaches the table, “Something happened?”
He finds it hard to look her in the eyes, so he looks at her nose. An old trick he had to learn as a child.
“It’s easier to say when something isn’t happening” he laughs, and is happy to see her shoulders relax “but yes, there is something I wanted to talk about”
He takes a breath, and unconsciously looks down at the table, catching movement too late to stop. It will only make it more noticeable now, fuck.
He should have thought about how to phrase this before he got here, just because Blaze has a couple of minutes doesn't mean she really has them. Blaze gives him more leeway than the others, and with a team like that it's understandable, yet there has to be a limit.
That's... the reason he's here, isn't it? Limits.
And yet he's silent for long seconds, and she doesn't rush him. Robert can't tell if he's grateful for it or if feels a little like yelling at her for that.
“I think we should have a professional talk with my team,” he looked at her again, feeling a terrible tiredness on his face, “in a way that may include HR”
“...I see” she blinked at him. Robert saw her face go from confused to worried and immediately professional-neutral in seconds, “Do you have any reason to be worried about your own safety or comfort?”
The snort was automatic.
“When I ever had no reason to worry about my own safety and comfort?” but when she didn’t smile, Robert leaned back in a chair, “Look, we have to understand their situation–”
“Robert…”
“I’m dead serious right now, Blaze, they are–were criminals. They’ve been villains most of their life you can’t take people out of a fire and expect them to forget the smell of smoke.” Robert didn’t continue until she nodded to him, showing that she was at least listening “And that whole story about cutting someone? Blaze, honestly, it only made things worse. I don’t want the same to happen again.”
“...I understand.”
“Good” he turned to the window, “but we can’t keep the standard that low either. Joking insults or pranks are one thing, but–”
There’s no right ending to this sentence, not quite. They simply don't understand boundaries, and at this point even he can't tell where those are. Robert can only sympathize. For him, being pinned against a wall by an unwanted kiss, getting an unnecessary hit, or being embarrassed in front of colleagues is not such a big deal, there are worse things that keep him up at night.
The thing that brought him into this office was never he himself, or his well-being, and while Robert knows he can just shrug it off, he has enough empathy for those who... who can't. On whom these things could leave scars. And all because no one ever explained the obvious boundaries to his team? It's a stupidity that's can be so easily avoided.
And yet, he hesitated to come here for two weeks, like the coward and idiot that he was.
"Between you and me, I don't think anything they do is coming from evil," he shrugs, still hard to look at her.
The point of the Phoenix program is to teach them how to do better, to help them get out of the hell of their past, out of the series of bad decisions and harmful habits, and that includes helping them understand what is and isn't appropriate. What he's doing now is the right thing to do.
He felt like a traitor.
“Well, they’re adults.”
“Who never had anything explained to them” Robert looked back at her. It was easier to defend them, this is familiar territory “we need to fix this”
“So you’re asking me to lecture them on work ethics?” Blaze’s tone was light, but the tilt of her head gave away how thoughtful she was, what was a relief.
“Something like that” he smiled back, “ideally also about harassment, stalking, and mandatory therapy, but baby steps.”
“Harassment? It’s about boys” she shook her head, and Robert didn’t correct her that “boys” probably have the least problem with this issue “Okay. Yes, I’ll look what I could do”
“Thank you” he smiled at her as he stood up to leave.
“I should thank you, Robert,” her self-accusatory laughter echoed quietly through the walls of the office, “I should have thought of that sooner.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just closed the door, saying goodbye. His heart was pounding, and hands shook a little as he turned the knob. A heavy exhale was his only friend in the almost empty office.
Covering his face with hands, taking a moment, just a moment, to gather himself. Robert was so tired. He was ashamed of who he had become and who he had been for so long that it no longer affected his life, honestly. But, it was one thing to be saved when you had done everything you could, it was just a polite to say thank you, and stupid to refuse to accept help, even when it was a little embarrassing. It was quite another when he himself, voluntarily, was destroying everything under his own feet.
“Who is being cut?”
Robert jumped, years of reflexes putting his feet in the right position, turning his head at the sound, ready to defend himself. Visi stood looking at him with a raised eyebrow, and Robert pressed a hand to his heart, trying to control breathing.
“Jesus! Warn a guy next time” he shook head, shoving away the fear.
“So who’s getting cut?” she repeated the question.
“No one’s getting cut” Robert pushed himself away from the wall, walking to his own, the only lighted, desk.
“Duh,” she rolled eyes, “so you and Blaze were making out on her desk? Right in her office, Robert? I expected better from you, although I have to admit…”
“Not all work matters involve cutting someone, Invisigal” he exhaled wearily, logging out and turning off the computer, the lamp and sliding the chair under the desk, “and not all personal matters end up in sex.”
“Almost fooled me.”
Robert didn’t say anything to that, just gave her an unimpressed look. Rolling eyes, she waved it off with an “I’ll find out anyway” before disappearing.
On the way home, Robert hated how he felt the empty space behind, and listened to the stupid noise around.
***
There were too many lamps in his apartment, he finally admitted on Friday morning, getting ready for work. They were nice gifts, and actually quite thoughtful of Visi – if he had an apartment already filled with things, so as not to be too out of place with the possible decor – but he was surprised that Blaze was the only one who though of bringing anything but a lamp. Maybe she just had a handicap in the form of Chase.
The point is, the blank walls, with a crack in the wall and a red circle drawn in marker, a bed in the middle of the room, and a dozen completely different lamps, look strangely creepy in one space. He was surprised that he had noticed it only now.
Maybe he should look for something this weekend. At least some plaster to patch up the wall. It's strange to have money for personal expenses, and maybe that's why he actually has it now. When he does get a pretty good salary, he doesn't really know what to do with all the money, except for some vague "saving money for emergency" and something about paying off loans that he thankfully hasn't had time to make. Small wins.
So, yeah. Rent, food, Beef, and travel to work are all of his spendings. He should stock his medicine cabinet with better things than expired paracetamol. Maybe put a couch in that spot, and buy a laptop, now that he can't use the suit as his primary access to programming. A desk, maybe, or a night stand.
He remembers his childhood home, his current home certainly seems a bit claustrophobic by comparison, but the point is that they had a yard, and he liked to run around there with Chase, there was a small place with a little table and chairs where dad and his team would cook barbecue, and sometimes go for a walk after missions when it was nice and warm outside.
Maybe he could do something on his own balcony, no grill, for obvious safety reasons, but a small space where he could go outside, without actually going to a park or a café.
The phone rang with another alarm, a backup one, the one that only existed if he overslept, and Robert put those thoughts aside, continuing to get ready for work.
***
“Good morning, everyone, I hope I’m not interrupting,” Blaze burst awkwardly onto their line, and Robert was grateful that he had a pretty good day today. Otherwise, he would hardly have had the strength to sit as he did. Because the urge to tell her that he was really sick and need to go home right now was barely passable “after this shift, I need you all in the meeting room for an hour”
“What for?” Coupé asked, probably wanting to hear Blaze’s answer, but at silence indicated that she had already disconnected from the line. Great.
“I have no idea” he wasn’t lying, technically. His suspicions might not be proven.
“Bullshit” Visi interrupted him.
“Ya big man, she usually tells you that sort of stuff” Punch Up added.
“Not this time” okay, he was just lying here “something happened to a civilian plane on Thirty-sixth Street, Sonar, Flambae I need you two for...”
They tried to bring it up a couple of times, but ignoring it was as easy as hand tremor. When he had time free from calls, he realized that didn’t have such a problem with blood pressure before coma. Perhaps Chase’s mockery of the full medical checkup had some merit; he had made a note to himself to check if his SDN insurance covered it, under the tasks of checking out a laptop, in the notes on his phone.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had used the notes. Making lists helped him keep things in head, but usually they were about fixing a Mecha Man, and were done on random receipts that would be thrown away in a couple of days at worst.
This looked like something he might have for more than a couple of days. Robert wasn’t sure what to think of that, and he got another call in time, reminding him to focus on his work.
The end of shift came too soon. Reminding them of the meeting, he took off headset, and took a deep breath in and out slowly. There was no reason to be nervous, not only he had brought it on himself, this meeting was a simple banality that had happened even at his past jobs that weren't full-time. A large firm, with a good reputation, decided to give a presentation on work ethics to a team that was known for how terrible they were at work ethics?
No one would think twice. Even if they did, it's not a problem – Robert thought to himself as he walked down the hallway – he's just doing his job, and they should know how to do theirs.
The stairs were too small, he decided, finally climbing them.
The room behind the glass doors was already dark, and looking at the phone, he saw that he was a couple of minutes late. Opening the door, he waved at Blazer with a polite smile, and sat in the corner, away from the table where only Malevola wasn’t present.
A couple of minutes later, she appeared with the portal. “Sap,” she said, falling onto a chair next to Sonar, who pushed her with his shoulder.
Blaze cleared her throat. The small projector stopped showing the home view of Windows 7, and switched to PowerPoint, following Chase’s movements at the laptop.
“Nice to see you all here” she spoke in her corporate voice, which always made Robert laugh a little, as if she were a robot from a TV, and not a person who cried over Wall-Y “ today I want to–”
“And for this you took away our rest?” Sonar said.
“These are your working hours. No one takes away your rest, only the shift” Blaze was a little off balance, but she answered.
“We could do something cool and save people, not this” Flambae threw back his head in irritation, his feet resting on the table.
“Your ass doesn’t do shit anyway” Prism threw, scrolling through social media on her phone.
“The sooner we start, the sooner this will be over” he raised his voice, making an unnecessary movement with his hands, as if amplifying it, just to dilute the atmosphere a little. The chorus of irritation was more reminiscent of fifth grade teenagers.
“Yes, thank you, so we’re here to discuss the rules…”
***
He didn’t know why he thought this would go well.
Flambae who almost burned the table, arguing with Chase about “well, sometimes a person just asking for a punch!”. Prism, who started filming the fight between Coupé and Malevola on her phone, which had to be handled by Golem. Visi who, during the part about sexual harassment, got up from her chair, pointing finger at him with “Oh c'mon! It was only once, did you have to snitch?!” and Blaze’s terribly cold “What?” will be in his nightmares.
He had to tell Baze, in front of the whole fucking room, and he was almost grateful that he had an incident in which Waterboy was present on his hands, Blaze didn't need any more reason to fire Visi as such. She was going to get a formal warning anyway, and Robert didn't have the energy to feel bad about it. Thouse were given to half of this room just in these last two hours and every one of those could have been avoided if they hadn't been acting like fucking children, yelling and attacking each other.
“That was a.. meeting” Blaze said finally, trying to be diplomatic.
“That was a fucking shit show. You all were acting like fucking children and are going to have so many problems after that shit, you fuckers” Chase exclaimed, and Robert couldn't help but agree, especially when after that one third of Z-Team left showing the middle fingers, the other third ran away using their abilities (Flambae flew out the window), and the other third were Golem and Waterboy.
The silence in the office was stifling. Robert, covering his face with his hands, physically trying to pull himself together.
“…Well, I was hoping it would go better” Blaze admitted, and Robert barely restrained himself from laughing.
“I didn’t expect shit and still disappointed” Chase slammed the laptop, raising his head, the lights were already on. This was a big stupid circus show, at its worst, but.. well. They are his monkeys.
“All the glass remained intact” he told laughing, and hoping that didn’t sound hysterical. They turned to him, “it only proves the need for such things for them. It’s just a matter of time, they will get better.”
“You believe in this bunch of shit too much, kid” Chase shook his head, and walked out the door, only giving Robert a strangely sad look.
They were, alone with Blaze who was holding the projector and laptop. Rising from his chair, he prayed that her uncomfortable gaze would be focused solely on the situation, not on her desire to ask something.
Never before had his prayers been answered, why would it change now?
“Robert, I need to...” he paused at the door, the exit so close, only a few seconds. Blaze exhaled, changing her tone from professional so now he could hear the incredibly tired woman. He almost wished of never knowing that she had cried on Wall-Y “How long ago did the situation in the men’s room happen?”
“I told you nothing happened, Blaze,” he shook his head, hand on the doorknob.
“It’s not nothing, Robert, people get fired for less,” voice was strangely defensive. He hated that it was him who made her worry, and for something so stupid nonetheless, “this situation was the reason you–?”
“Oh, no, it happened a while ago from now,” he laughed, and Blaze’s hand on his shoulder made him flinch. She didn’t let go, and he turned around, trying not to feel trapped. One second of her too serious and worried face gave him enough information to choose to stare at the ceiling, throwing his head back.
“Look, they… they’re trying, it’s just not easy, that’s all. It's a matter time and training.”
“And mandatory therapy” she chuckled, and Robert couldn’t help but smile a little.
“Exactly.”
“Robert, look at me” and Robert looked, hating how uncomfortable it made him feel. He was short of breath, and he almost wished he was in love with her, to explain it with something like that “promise that if something like that happens again, you’ll let me know.”
“Blaze–”
“Robert.”
“Mandy.” he mimicked, but she didn’t back down. Exhaling, he made a decision, “I promise.”
The lie came too easily, and that alone almost made him nauseous. Sincere smile, as if she really believed him, and nod, phrase that she was here if he needed her, and the same polite platitudes in response, made him feel so small. It wasn’t that important anyway, not this situation, nor the other one, it was for the best, even if it felt like Robert had done something wrong.
This is right. This has to be.
The shame in his throat prevented him from thinking about it any further. He tried not to think about how leaving the office felt like he was running.
They didn’t have time for a second shift, but he went in anyway to ask Chase to sit with Beef for the weekend before going home. Chase put a hand on his shoulder with an understanding nod.
***
Robert stood in his empty apartment, cluttered with lamps and a single bed, with a crack in the wall and a red circle drawn in marker, wondering how he had the strength to worry about it before.
The empty walls felt claustrophobic.