Chapter Text
Sleep was hard to find, but it felt worse when one was abruptly taken from it.
Grumbling, he raises his head from his flat sunken pillow; untamed brunette hair falling into his eyes as he reaches over towards the phone beeping insistently against the wood of his nightstand. He taps the screen to stop the annoying sound, missing a few times in his drowsiness. When he finally succeeds he stares at his phone screen and a moment to long before he realizes why he even set that alarm.
After months of rebuilding and construction, SDN is finally up and running. Hell, he was just at the re-opening last night and now he had to actually go into work.
He pushes himself up with a soft grunt, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed as he stretches his arms, his back giving a faint pop. Taking a moment to wake himself up he fully before standing and padding over to his adjacent bathroom.
He moves to relieve himself first, before he strips off his boxers to take a quick shower.
Grabbing a towel and turning off the water he dries off as best he can before focusing on his hair. He heads over to the mirror to meet his own hazel eyes. He moves his damp hair over to one shoulder as he gets a better look at himself.
Fuck I'll need to shave soon.
He thinks to himself as he spots how scruffy and thick his goatee is begging to look now. He sighs and pushes it back for a tomorrow problem.
He continues to towel off his hair til it's mostly dry. Tossing the towel to the side, he quickly brushes his teeth and washes his face, then he steps out to find his uniform.
He opens his closet and rummages around, pushing hangers and boxes before he finds his shirt and pants folded on one of the small shelves. He grabs a belt and socks as he tugs on his light blue shirt, buttoning it up as he scans the room for his keycard. He tucks in his shirt and steps into his boots, grumbling when he can't find it.
He grabs and pockets his phone as he heads out of his bedroom, scanning every surface for his card. He spots it on the kitchen counter, grabs it and looks it over.
Jesse Jenkins, Dispatcher.
Jesse reads it before clipping it to his belt loop. He steps around the kitchen island to reach the fridge. He scours it for something to eat before settling on a pack of yogurt. He sets it down a grabs a bag of granola and mixes it in.
He pulls out his phone and goes through his work email as he eats. He doesn't find anything new or important and just finishes his breakfast. He cleans up and walks over towards the front door grabbing, keys and jacket off of the entryway. Zipping up the leather coat, he grabs his helmet from the shelf above and opens the door. He locks it behind him and walks down the hallway and to the stairway, preferring it since he's only on the third floor.
Pushing open the parking garage door, he heads over to where his Harley Fat Bob was parked in the corner. He swings his leg over the vehicle and pulls his helmet over his head. Inserting the key and turning it, the bike roars to life under him. Kicking up the stand, Jesse peddles out of his parking spot and shoots out of the garage. Speeding down the streets of LA, he weaves between cars and trucks on his Harley. After making a quick stop to pick up lunch, Jesse arrives at SDN headquarters.
He parks his motorcycle off to the left of the building and dismounts. Pulling off his helmet, he pockets his keys before grabbing his lunch from the side satchel and walking towards the building.
Jesse spots a few co-workers and nods in greeting as he passes. He stops at his desk to place down his helmet and keys to check for any notes or papers but only finds a welcome back card, which, by looking around, he could see that he wasn't the only one. If anything, it seemed like it was for the entire office.
He walks over towards the break room, lunch in hand, and he pushes the door open. He intends to put his lunch in the fridge and head back to his desk but finds his movements halted by a man in front of him, with a rather rotund dog at his feet.
Robert Robertson. In truth, Jesse only remembers talking with the man a few times in passing since he was still a relatively new hire compared to himself. He watches as Robert takes his own lunch, a tupperware container with at least five different sticky notes labeled something along the lines of "Robert's, do not eat."
"Does your lunch get taken often?" Jesse speaks up as he steps next to the man, placing his bagged lunch in the back of the filled fridge.
"Used to." He hears Robert respond, placing his own lunch next to his.
Turning slightly, he gets a better look at the man next to him. Robert definitely looks better than he did when he last saw him. Well, that's not exactly hard, considering they were almost in all out war with the Red Ring when that was. Still, he looked good.
"So, the plethora of sticky notes are just habit then?" Jesse smirks a little, finding it slightly amusing.
"A precaution." Robert corrects as he shuts the fridge door, matching the larger man's own amusement.
"Someone still out to get your lunch after you saved SDN?" Jesse jokes a little as he kneels down to the dog. He lets the little guy sniff his hand before he scratches him behind the ears, earning a little tail wag and full body wiggle.
"Saved is a stretch, I didn't do it alone." Robert defends, causing the knelt man to look back up at him. "Besides the building wasn't exactly saved."
"Well, regardless of that, Mr. Hero, someone's still a lunch thief." He can't help but tease, standing back up to meet Robert at eye level. "If it comes down to it you can just stash it in my bag, I don't mind." He offers.
"I'll think about it." The other man huffs, a small grin making its way in to his face.
"Then I'll leave you to it." Jesse nods before stepping back to head to wards the door. "Have a good shift, Robert."
"You as well, Mr..?"
"Just Jesse is fine." He smiles back at Robert before pushing open the door and leaving.
Once he's back at his desk he unzips his leather coat and hangs it off the back of his chair. He sits down at his new desk and powers up the old monitor in front of him. As he puts on his headset he's immediately met with the familiar voices of his team.
"Alright, O-team, are we ready to start?"
Jesse huffs tiredly at the laughter coming through his headphones. Leaning back in his chair he can't help but smile at the banter.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." Jesse feigns offense, he's missed his team.
"It's good to be back, Jenkins." Glacier adds, her optimism infectious.
"Yeah, it feels good to be back in action officially." Quickfoot agrees despite her grumblings all shift.
"Good shift everyone. Get some good rest and I'll see you all tomorrow." With that message, Jesse signs off and removes his headphones. He stands up and grabs his coat from the chair and slips it on. He picks up his helmet and pockets his keys. He decides to take the thin packet of paper he'd received, though he's pretty sure it's just a refresh on policies and new announcements around the building. He heads over to the break room again since he didn't finish all of his lunch; he'll likely have what's left of it for dinner.
He enters the break room to find it empty. Walking over and opening the fridge, he quickly finds his bag in the back where he left it. As he grabs it, he feels something different about how he left. Opening it, he finds Robert's mostly eaten burrito inside the labeled tupperware. Jesse grins to himself as he realizes that Robert took him seriously. He didn't think he would, but he's glad, and now he needs to actually find him. He folds up the packet and stores in the bag, ensuring it won't be stained too much.
He heads out of the break room to start looking for Robert. He heads to his desk first and is pleased to find him still there, and talking with someone, no less. He walks over towards them both, making his footsteps a little louder than normal to announce his presence.
A man with the head of a bat looks up at him first, looking confused at his sudden presence. Robert follows suit and looks a little surprised to see him.
"Jesse, what brings you here?" The man asks, turning in his chair to face him.
"I'm heading out for the night, and you're lunch was still in my bag." Jesse answers, taking out the container and holding it out for him to take.
"Oh, shit, thanks. I almost forgot about that." Robert grins a little as he takes it, ignoring the questioning look he gets from Sonar.
"Are you guys friends, or…?" Sonar finally speaks up, looking between the two of them.
"Oh, um, kind of." Jesse, shrugs glancing at Robert for input before meeting Sonar's gaze.
"Sorry, I know I've interrupted your conversation. The name's Jesse by the way." He switches his lunch bag into his other hand, pressing his helmet against his hip so he can hold out his hand to the man.
"Sonar." He responds, not taking Jesse's hand. The man lowers it and takes the bag in his free hand again.
"Well, good to meet you." He nods, moving to step back until a clatter of doors opening sound from their right. Looking over he spots a taller man in a deep v-neck sauntering over to them.
"Bob Bob, Sonar, there's something I need to-" He begins to say but stops as he registers Jesse's presence.
"Who the fuck is this?" He sudden asks. Jesse opens his mouth to answer but is cut off
"A kinda friend of Robert's, apparently." Sonar quips, almost smirking.
"Work friends. We're work friends." Robert finally butts in, sending a look Sonar's way.
"Yeah." Jesse agrees, but the man still seems skeptic of him.
"I don't really give a shit. Robert, we need to talk."
Jesse takes that moment to excuse himself and slips away from the group. He walks out into the hallway passing a few co-workers and who he assumes is a new hero. He pushes through to enter the lobby and out the main door. Rounding the building to his motorcycle he set his helmet on the seat before opening the saddlebag and placing his lunch inside. He grabs his helmet but hesitates when putting it on.
Looking back at the building, he feels like he's forgetting something, yet he knows he has everything he brought with him. But that feeling, that pull in the back of his mind, won't cease it's whispering. He almost goes back. He almost listens to that tug of fate, but Jesse stopped listening to fate years ago.
He looks back towards his bike, just wishing the feeling would fade away. It doesn't, but as he rides further and further away it lessens to only a faint hum in the back of his mind. He refuses to let it get the best of him, and just focuses on going home.
He arrives at his apartment complex and swiftly heads up to his apartment, lunch, or now dinner, bag in hand. Walking through his door he shrugs off his jacket and hangs it up on the hook in the wall, setting his helmet on the shelf above it. He unties and pulls off his boots, leaving them by the door before heading further inside.
He sets his bag and keys down on the counter before turning to grab a soda from his fridge. He leans against the counter as he eats his leftover sandwich, his hip braced against the edge. It was quiet, hell it's always quiet, but for some reason it feels weird now. It was never quiet when… when…
Fucking hell…
Jesse thinks to himself setting down the small portion of his sandwich. He runs a hand down his face as he sighs, the action doing nothing to help with the tension building in him.
Of course, grief comes to kick him in the fucking ass. Of course, it changes when he'd finally gotten used to it. And of course, he's no closer to fixing it. To finding…
"Fuck…" He murmurs, his voice almost cracking. He looks up from his food and across the room in his living room. There on the wall hangs a board; it's filled with pictures of different people and places, newspaper clippings, messy notes, and a frayed red string connecting all of the dots. Then, at the very center, a person. Someone very dear.
"Fuck, I truly am failing aren't I..?"