Chapter Text
Buddy wandered through the safehouse, drifting in and out of rooms with no real purpose, searching for something to pass the time until tomorrow's job. Exploring the limited area Doc permitted them to be in could only hold his attention for so long, and eventually, it had gotten to the point where he nearly memorized the layout of the furniture in each room. As tempting as it was to go poking around locked rooms and spaces deemed off-limits, Buddy would rather not deal with the possible consequences of Doc's wrath.
After running a few errands for the crew (mainly dinner orders and a list of items to pick up from the liquor store) he was ready to kick back and relax, having put Darling to bed about half an hour ago. He wasn’t tired, but he knew his dearest darling wife would be about as agreeable as a poisonous pufferfish if she didn’t get her beauty sleep. She had kicked him out of the room when he wouldn’t stop pacing the small space; the noise of his guns clattering around when he tried to clean them mixed with the constant shuffling of his shoes on the carpet. Her face popped out from the pillows, and she had leveled a glare at him that, while it would normally have gotten him going in other ways, only made a sheepish grin spread on his face. He had leaned down, gave her a gentle kiss to smooth out the anger wrinkle in her brow, and left the room to pace elsewhere.
As he moved through the cluttered living room, a large open space that served as the common area and was more put together than the barren dilapidated state of Doc’s meeting room, he spotted something that caught his eye – a cassette player sitting haphazardly on the table. He recognized it immediately as Baby’s. It's the kind of thing he often left lying around without a second thought, and definitely not something anyone else on this job’s crew would own.
“Hey, look what I found.” Buddy said absentmindedly, lifting it up. It was quite worn, littered with small marks and scratches, but clean, like it was meticulously taken care of by its owner. He considered returning it to Baby’s room, but knew it would likely just end up back here again the next time Baby got distracted and forgot to take it with him.
Bats, lounging on the couch across the room, busy smoking pot, perked up at the sight. “What’s that, a relic from the past? Are you sure it’s not Baby’s diary or something?” His tone dripped with sarcasm.
“Very funny,” Buddy replied, rolling his eyes as he fiddled with the device. There were no visible instructions labeled anywhere, other than some vague symbols on the buttons. The paper sticker holding the brand name was scratched off, a slightly sticky residue left behind with the remaining bits of the white label. Buddy shook it lightly, hearing the rattle of a tape still inside. “It’s just his tape deck. He always leaves this junk lying around.”
Bats leaned forward, blowing smoke out of his mouth, his smirk widening. “You should play it. Let’s see what kind of garbage he’s recorded.”
Buddy hesitated, feeling a flicker of apprehension. “Nah, I think I’ll just give it back. You know how he is about his music-”
“Come on, don’t be such a chicken.” Bats interrupted, standing from the couch, temporarily forgetting his glass tube in favor of an opportunity to get under their driver’s skin. Bats closed the distance between them, coming to stand in front of Buddy with an evil look in his eye. “What’s the worst that could happen? It’s just Baby’s stupid tapes.” He leaned in closer, a challenging glint marring his tone. “Unless you’re scared?”
Buddy knew he wasn’t going to win this argument. Bats was like a dog with a bone when he got like this; it was better to let him get it out of his system rather than risk him doing something stupid, like destroying the recorder out of pettiness. He never knew why the guy seemed to have it out for Baby in particular, but he really didn't feel like spending the energy figuring it out. With a reluctant sigh, he gave in. “Fine,” he grumbled, pressing play on the cassette player, trying to ignore the creeping unease in his gut. It’s not like he purposefully went out of his way to invade Baby’s personal space (he wasn’t an asshole like Bats, and he actually kinda liked the kid) but he had to admit, he was also curious. It’s not his fault Baby is forgetful and leaves his things lying around where anyone could get their hands on it.
The tape crackled to life, and almost immediately, the familiar sound of Doc’s voice came through the retro speakers, low and monotonic, but laced with a certain kind of calmness instead of the man’s usual ire. “Hey, Baby. You did great today. Just don't overthink that pass under the bridge next time, alright?.”
“The hell?” Buddy muttered, eyebrows raised in surprise. He hadn’t expected...well...that. The tape continued on, each section filled with various snippets of praise, mashed together neatly in a way that was clearly done with a sense of purpose. A continuous stream of Doc calling Baby “a little devil” and “brilliant” and "a natural", in that familiar dry tone of his.
Bats burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the room, bouncing around the walls of the large space, like Bats was over the moon about what he had just heard. The cackling of the man's laughter pricks the hairs on his neck; a feeling of caution and a twinge of regret. Maybe this had been a bad idea.
“Wow, Baby’s got a whole fan club tape in his pocket! This is gold! You think he’s using this as blackmail material or something?” Bats sneered past his snickering.
Buddy shot him an irritated glare. “Can you be any more of a jerk? It’s not that funny.”
“Seriously? He’s practically got a shrine to Doc in here! What do you think he’s doing, recording little messages to fawn over later?” Bats continued, reveling in the mockery.
Buddy felt a flush of annoyance rise in his cheeks. “Baby probably just cares about his performance…or something.”
“Caring or crushing? Sounds like Baby’s got it bad. Like, ‘one-sided love’ bad.” Bats retorted, leaning back and crossing his arms, his laughter unabated.
Buddy rolled his eyes, trying to tune out Bats’s obnoxious commentary. “This is just dumb,” he muttered to himself. But as he listened, he couldn’t shake the nagging curiosity that stirred in him. Why would Baby record these messages in the first place? There’s no way the kid was seriously recording blackmail on them, was he? So far there hadn’t been much indication of anything that could get them into any serious trouble. No mention of plans, or heists, or meet-up locations. Still, he couldn’t help but feel like suspicious might be thrown Baby's way if this got into the wrong hands. But then again, if Baby was recording important info...he didn't really wanna think about what Doc would do to the kid.
“Honestly, you think Baby’s gonna confess his undying love for Doc at a heist?” Bats snorted. “I mean, come on! It’s just pathetic.”
“Just because you think it’s a joke doesn’t mean you have to be a dick about it man.” Buddy snapped back, irritation bubbling over. Bats got on his nerves enough as it were - he doesn't need a reason to snap at the man, but having one just gives him an excuse to do it.
Bats raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “I’m not doing anything, just enjoying the show. You’re the one getting all worked up over it, Buddy.”
Buddy felt the tension in his shoulders. “You think this is some kind of game?”
“Oh, please,” Bats scoffed. “What do you care? It’s not like you’re in the business of understanding feelings.” He waved a dismissive hand, over-exaggerating the word 'feelings', smirking as he continued. “Besides, you’re still missing the best part– Baby’s crushing on a guy who don't even known the meaning of the word.”
Buddy pressed stop on the tape, the voice lines fading into an uncomfortable silence. Bats’s comments prodded at something. He was right, in a way. This wasn’t the kind of job where feelings played an important part, and having them at all, let alone letting other people know you had them, was a one way ticket into making yourself a target. But he had known Baby for a long time, and being one of the guys Doc decided to keep around consistently, it was long enough to grow fond of the brat and his weird eccentric tendencies. He might not be a kid anymore, in the literal sense, but he was still young, and Buddy couldn’t help but want to look out for him, even if he didn’t outright say it. Maybe it was because Baby reminded him of his own kids, who he hadn’t seen in years, or maybe it was because of his uncompromising passion for music, or maybe it was because of something else. Either way, whatever reason Baby decided to record these particular things, wasn’t for any one else to nose in on. Baby had a good heart, and unfortunately, it usually came back to bit him more often than not.
Bats leaned back, crossing his arms with a smug grin. “Well, someone’s gotta keep him grounded in this here what I like to call 'reality'. If he wants to wax poetic about Doc, let him. Just don’t expect me to take it seriously.”
Buddy shook his head, frustration simmering. “Whatever, man. Just remember to keep your mouth shut. Doc might think he’s been recording his meeting sessions.”
“Sure, sure, we wouldn't want that, would we?” Bats shot back, rolling his eyes. “You can be the therapist for all I care, and I’ll be the one enjoying from the sidelines.”
Buddy scoffed, turning away and thoroughly done entertaining the other's weird obsession about their driver. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to Baby’s recordings than what Bats had been implying, something that went beyond just wanting to hear idle praise from Doc, or some stupid crush, as if that was even an option to begin with. He shoved the little device into his pocket, ignoring the rambling of the crazed criminal next to him, and stalked his way out of the room. He traversed the hallways leading to the crew's living quarters; a series of individual rooms that allowed them to spend the night comfortably before a heist.
Buddy felt a mixture of amusement and concern as he turned the cassette player this way and that, his fingers lingering on the buttons as he gathered his thoughts. The act in and of itself was harmless, but the implications behind it might be taken the wrong way, especially by the person who had been recorded in the first place. He had seen Doc get rid of guys over less, though he doubts Doc considers Baby as expandable as his constantly rotating cast of characters. It was better to be cautious than cocky, he decided.
After a moment of consideration, he made his way down the hall to Baby's room, knocking lightly on the door. He didn’t hear anything; no verbal confirmation (though that was expected), no shuffling or sounds of movement from inside. He grabbed the handle, finding it unlocked, and creaked the door open slowly. Peaking into the space, he spots Baby's hunched over figure inside the room, light from the bedside table and from his iPod illuminating his face. Buddy pushes the door open wider, and saunters his way over.
“Hey, Baby. You left this lying around.” He waved the cassette player around in the air lazily, feigning nonchalance.
Baby looked up from where he was sitting on his bed, surprise flashing across his face as he reached up to take the player from Buddy's hands. The usual confidence that radiated from him was dampened, replaced by a hint of embarrassment that Buddy couldn’t help linger on. Baby’s cheeks flushed a subtle shade of pink, and his eyes darted to the floor, looking around with a small amount of nervousness.
“Uh, did you…listen to it?” Baby mumbled, the words tumbling out with a mix of apprehension and horror. Buddy could see the way Baby fidgeted, his fingers nervously playing with the edges of the cassette.
Buddy hesitated, the truth hovering just out of reach. The memories of Doc’s voice, the nicknames and praise, echoed in his mind. He quickly shook it off, mind racing to come up with an acceptable answer. “Nah, I didn’t really get a chance to,” he lied, shrugging with a casualness he didn’t feel. “Just found it and thought you might want it back.”
Baby’s expression shifted, the tension in his shoulders tightening. “Oh…right.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He seemed to appreciate the attempted cover, but Buddy could tell by the slight grimace and awkward chuckle, that Baby knew he was just trying to let him save face. The way Baby glanced at the player made it clear he was a little mortified about what was recorded, and probably even more mortified knowing that other people had heard it. He felt a little bad - the kid looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
“Maybe you should keep it somewhere safer next time.” Buddy suggested, trying to lighten the mood with a short laugh. “You never know who might stumble upon it. You’re lucky it was me who found it, and not Doc.”
Baby nodded, though the small, pained contortion tugging at his lips suggested he didn’t really want to have this conversation, that he'd rather be anywhere else but here. “Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away.” he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of self-deprecation. “It’s just…nice to hear him say those things, you know?”
Buddy’s face softened at the confession. “Yeah, I get that. Doc can be a hardass, but I think he means it when he says stuff like that.”
“Right?” Baby’s eyes brightened a bit, a flicker of something undisguisable filtering over his face, there one second and hidden the next.
Buddy felt a surge of wariness, a possible itch protectiveness for Baby, to keep the kid out of trouble and make sure he took in the severity of his little slip-up. “Just be careful, alright? I know how Doc can be. He’s not exactly the ‘emotionally available’ type, and he might think you’re recording things you’re not supposed to if he catches you with those.”
“Yeah, I know.” Baby replied, a small smile creeping onto his lips, lightly breaking his poker face. “But that’s kinda why I do it, it’s…interesting, that he doesn’t just say those things to anyone.” He murmured, looking down at the tape in his hands. Baby tapped his index finger against the plastic housing; a rhythmic fast paced motion in time to music only he could hear.
Interesting? Buddy couldn’t help but roll his eyes slightly, the mocking voice of Bats ringing silently in his ears. “Just don’t let it go to your head, alright? It's still dangerous.”
Baby shrugged, the teasing light in his eyes returning. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I can handle a little danger. It’s what I do best, right?”
“Sure, if you mean with high-speed car chases. But don’t go thinking you can charm a cold-hearted thief into changing his ways.” Buddy warned, half-serious words hidden under false jokes.
Baby shrugged, face slipping back into neutral disinterest. “I’m not trying to change him. Just… you know, trying to figure things out.”
“Alright…” Buddy said, giving Baby a skeptical warning look.
Baby glanced down at the cassette player, a slight smile gracing his lips again. “Thanks for uh- bringing it back, even if you ‘didn’t listen to it.’” He said, some amusement lingering in his tone as he placed his other earbud back into place. It was a silent, but polite dismissal that told him Baby had reached his limit for talking, and was done with this conversation.
Buddy offered a smile in return. “No problem. Just, you know, keep it under wraps next time.”
Baby nodded, or maybe twitched his head to invisible lyrics, it was hard to tell.
As he turned to leave, Buddy couldn’t help but look back once, seeing Baby sitting there, hunched over, a complicated expression furrowed in his brows. He could only hope that Baby knew what he was getting into.