Chapter Text
It had been about four months since Shroud's defeat, if Robert remembered correctly, though he had a hazy memory of almost everything that happened that night; he only remembered that in the end, Shroud was arrested and taken to the authorities.
Everyone celebrated. He was happy to see his team thrive, going from misfit ex-villains to the heroes who had defeated one of the most wanted villains.
What he still didn't understand was why everyone fell silent when he spoke to Waterboy. There was nothing wrong with talking to a colleague, was there? They caught up, chatting about mundane things outside of work, Like Herman mentioning how he wanted to live away from his grandmother because he felt like he was depending too much on her.*
So here they were, the two of them.
— Are you sure you don't want anything more, Herman?I can offer you my bed, it's fine. I've been sleeping on the floor for quite some time now, and don't worry if you get it wet, it's a cheap mattress and it has a protective plastic cover.
— N-no, it's okay, sir—Rob... Robert, I don't want to get anything wet…
— I don't think sleeping in my bathtub would be very comfortable. Are you sure you don't want to sleep in my bed?
Robert looked closely at Herman, noticing a nervous glint in his eyes, but he didn't insist. He knew this man could be even more stubborn than he was when he tried, so he let him be, but not before giving him a decent pillow and a blanket, before going to his own room to sleep.
Lying in bed, he daydreamed, going over everything that had happened: the not-so-recent isolation Herman suffered after the fight with Shroud, not remembering anything two weeks after Shroud's capture, and above all, he couldn't remember when Herman had blue eyes, a subtle, almost white one. He supposed it was just the light.
He closes his eyes and breathes, counting down as his eyes move behind his eyelids. Ever since taking command as the new Mecha Man, he's had trouble sleeping, resorting to short, military-style naps, just enough to keep his body on the edge of rest. But this time is different. He knows Herman is just steps from his room, which makes it even harder. He sighs, tired of not being able to sleep well.
He turns to the side, looking at a secondhand nightstand he bought, on which sits the lava lamp Herman gave him at that party in his apartment—the only lamp he found a place for himself and arranged. He smiles gently at it, mesmerized by the yellow drops floating in the strange blue water, casting a soft light. But his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of something falling and heavy footsteps in the small hallway. Robert turns gently, peering through the crack under his door at a thin shadow.
— Herman? Are you okay, buddy?
He asks the air, but all he hears is the annoying hum of his refrigerator and the soft clatter of the apartment building's awful heating system.
— Herman?
He asks the air again, receiving no answer, but notices the shadow gently shifting, letting the little light filter through the crack. He hears footsteps heading to the bathroom again. He sighs to calm his nerves and glances at the edge of his bed where Beef is on high alert, his small ears perked up and motionless, his plump tail equally still, and the fur on his back slightly raised, alert.
— Huh, looks like I'm not the only one who thinks Herman's acting weird, huh, buddy?
Robert asks, receiving a huff and a yawn in response. He smiles and gently picks up the chubby chihuahua.
— Maybe he was hungry. I should get some groceries... after all, it's not just you and me.
Robert smiled, lying down on his bed and finally falling asleep, managing to sleep a few hours before his alarm went off and he had to get up for work. Leaving his room and noticing water stains in the same place where he heard the footsteps, he went to his bathroom and gently knocked on the door.
— Herman, are you there? I'm going in to get ready if you don't mind.
— Huh, come in! I'm ready, Robert.
Robert smiled and opened the door, seeing Waterboy standing there. He glanced quickly into his eyes and noticed they had returned to their cold gray, but strangely, with that sweet and warm look that Herman always had. He mentally scolded himself for thinking Herman's eyes were turning blue.
— If you want, you can go to my car. I'll give you a ride to work. I just need a quick shower and we'll go, okay?
— Uh huh, I'll wait outside.
With that, the bathroom door closed Robert begins his meager routine: a quick shower with cold water and cheap soap, a quick shave so he doesn't look so much like a vagrant, and his dispatcher's uniform. He steps outside and notices Beef staring intently at Herman, who's sitting on the sofa Mandy gave him for his party. The chihuahua is still in the same position as last night, ears and tail still, his fur slightly raised.
— Hey, don't look at Herman like that. Did he get you wet?
Robert smiles and picks up his chihuahua, noticing how he growls at Herman, which puzzles him. Beef doesn't growl, he didn't even bark at Shroud when Shroud decided to sacrifice him if he didn't get the astral pulse.
— Hey, buddy, it's just Herman, he's not a stranger...
— I guess it's because I smell like a cat. My grandma has… fifteen cats? None of them like me, but I'm sure I smell like a cat.
— I think that might be it, but it's never growled at you before… could it be because your suit is a little drier right now? I mean, you just put it on.
— I suppose so.
They both look at each other for a bit longer before standing up and heading towards Robert's car. It wasn't the newest, nor the nicest, but it was functional, and for someone like Robert, aesthetics and cost probably mattered less than functionality. If something works well, why change it?
Arriving at SDN, Robert parks his car and gets out, walking towards his cubicle while chatting with Herman, trying to ignore the uncomfortable stares of the people around him. He sits down in his chair and logs into the company computer.
— Good morning everyone, I hope this first shift goes well. Today marks four months since Shroud's capture, but that doesn't mean the red ring has disintegrated.
Robert stared at the screen, waiting for a response, but only heard short replies that cut short his attempt at a conversation.
— I want everyone to give 100% today to capture the remnants of the red ring and ensure that the possibility of them regaining their strength is completely eliminated.
With that, the first day began, with a few minor errors that were easily resolved, and overall a fairly calm shift. Even so, he still felt a pang of unease after hearing everyone ignore Herman's words, even leaving him behind when he was sent out as part of a team.
He figured he'd have to talk to his team about the way they were systematically isolating Herman after the first shift.