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Standing beside the Z-Team isn’t a situation Chase ever thought he’d find himself in, but leave it to Robert Robertson the third to get a bunch of wackjobs together more or less amicably.
Royd’s workshop echoes with the sound of arguing, but it isn’t the cacophonous ramblings SDN had been dealing with a month ago. It’s all in good fun, and doesn’t grate on Chase’s old ass ears the way it used to. He’s always secretly rooted for the Z-Team, though he’d die before admitting it, and it’s nice to see them more or less getting along, even though he still can’t really stand Invisigal for reasons he won’t unpack at the moment.
He glances at her out of the corner of his eye as she watches through the glass, her voice its usual nonchalant tone. The slight furrow to her brow destroys that façade in his eyes, though it doesn’t exactly change his feelings, either. There’s something weird going on between her and Robert, and he doesn’t like it at all.
“The smoke is a little overkill…” she mutters as Chase returns his full attention to Mecha Man through the glass.
“I thought the same too, but I think it’s a nice touch,” comes Robert’s reply.
Royd tenses so suddenly that Chase can feel it beside him. He’s close enough to hear his breath catch in his throat. “What smoke?” Immediately, panic flashes across his face. “Shut it down!”
Alarms blare. Red lights flash. The cacophony returns, but this time for good reason. Visi shouts above the noise. “Help him, Royd!”
His heart hasn’t raced like this in years, and that isn’t a good thing. As Royd starts banging on the door, Chase stands frozen in place, unable to do anything but yell, “Just get him out!”
The Z-Team watches in quiet horror as Royd fruitlessly pushes on the door, but it won’t budge. Punch Up looks frantically around the room. “It’s locked down!”
“Ah, fuck, I’m on it!” Malevola tosses a red and purple blaze at the door, basically pushing Royd through.
Through the laboratory’s glass, Chase can’t see much other than the outline of his own reflection. The purple smoke is shrouding the entire room, but every so often, Royd would poke through, grasping the suit around the waist. Chase would give the big guy credit - to tackle a ten-foot-tall robot was something that not many people would dive right into, even if it is incredibly stupid.
“Can’t one of you motherfuckers go in there and help -”
His thinly veiled concern is immediately destroyed as he watches Royd dive behind his desk. The boom that emanates from the robot probably shakes the entire building, but Chase is way more focused on the immediate blaze that erupts behind the glass. For the first time in his life, he wishes Flambae was here, the pompous bastard - at least then it could be put out quicker.
Punch Up is the first to find his bearings among them, rushing to the wall to grab the fire extinguisher. “Not gonna be losin’ ‘em today, lads!” Jumping through the still-open portal, the sad amount of white foam he releases into the room does barely anything to combat the flames.
The sudden movement from Punch Up shocks the rest of them into movement. Coupé mutters, “Idiot,” under her breath before rushing in through the portal after him. Malevola and Golem follow as well, while Prism mutters a string of curse words under her breath and hunches over the computer, perhaps looking for something to contain the fire.
Chase is fumbling with his phone to call for help when the sprinklers suddenly kick on above the fire, and the door slides open.
Suddenly, Visi appears, out of breath, beside the door to the laboratory, having wrenched the fuse box open. Chase had been so preoccupied he hadn’t even realized she had disappeared - which is good, because he almost certainly would have insulted her if he had.
The flames and smoke slowly disappear, smothered by the water that comes down in quick succession. “Fuck,” Chase mumbles, rushing through the portal with Prism and Visi at his heels.
It looks like a crime scene. The rest of the Z-Team stands there, unharmed save for the fact that they’re sopping wet and their prides are wounded. The test area is destroyed, with the wall and floor absolutely singed with ugly, dark burn marks. The table that Royd was hiding behind has toppled over, the contents on top of it strewn about the floor. The man himself is laying on his back, completely unconscious with his arm bent at a strange angle. A few feet away is the broken Mecha Man suit.
Seeing that Royd’s chest is rising and falling, Chase knows he can come back to him. His sole focus now is saving Robert.
He slowly climbs up onto the chest of the Mecha Man suit - damn his old ass knees - where a jagged hole has been blown through the middle. Chase can make out Robert’s slumped form, but he can’t tell if he’s breathing or not. His heart races again as he tries to pull on the metal to open the hold further. “C’mon, you little shit -” In the process, Chase cuts his palm on one of the jagged pieces of metal, but he’s way too panicked to be worried about tetanus right now. He’s barely making any progress when he notices Golem has joined him, pulling on the metal with a strength Chase could have only dreamed of.
Once the hole is big enough, Chase slips through, standing in the cramped remains of what used to be the cockpit. The “eject pilot” button is blinking uselessly on the control panel while Robert, still buckled in, is slumped forward and unmoving.
“Now listen here, you motherfucker.” Chase’s voice shakes as he leans forward, taking Robert by both of his shoulders, gently moving him back. His shirt is torn to shreds, showcasing scorch marks and blood all along his torso, and his head lolls forward uselessly. “I can’t be outlivin’ two idiots in a mech suit.”
Chase remembers being much younger, standing in a familiar workshop, hearing a gunshot ring in his ears. Time slows around him and he runs, but by the time he reaches Robbie, the bullet has already connected with chest. The yell that erupts from his mouth sounds inhuman, and before he can say anything to Elliot, he simply disappears into the darkness. He’s in the middle of telling Robbie he’s got him, and he’ll be alright, when he notices the glassy, unblinking eyes of instant death.
Right now, in the failed Mecha Man suit, he can’t bring himself to lift Robert’s head and look at his eyes. Instead, he places pinched fingers around his wrist, holding his breath. There’s a pulse. His relief is all-encompassing, but doesn’t last very long. He fumbles with the buckle, and when he successfully presses the button, Robert slumps forward against Chase’s shoulder. His breath comes in warm puffs against his neck, a very welcome sensation after the chaos of the last few minutes.
Carefully, he adjusts Robert so that he’s slumped over his shoulder, shakily stepping up onto the seat in an attempt to get them up out of the cockpit. As he peeks his head above the suit, he notices Golem is still standing there, and the rest of the Z-Team is standing silently by the door, waiting with bated breath. If not for the circumstances, Chase would almost be amused that this was the longest he’d ever heard them go without talking or arguing.
“Hasn’t kicked the bucket yet,” he confirms to them, shakily lifting Robert’s limp body up to Golem, who takes him as if he weighs nothing. God damn, he misses being young. Just pulling himself back up out of the suit saps nearly all of his remaining energy, leaving him breathless and trembling. He casts what he hopes is a meaningful look at Malevola, though he can’t be sure it’s anything more than an exhausted prayer. Whatever it may be, the devil lady understands and creates one of her portals again, this time directly to the infirmary.
As Golem walks toward the portal, he glances down at Robert with a small shake of his big head. “If you didn’t wanna work today, you coulda just said so.”
He disappears through the portal, and a quiet groan could be heard from behind the table. “None of you assholes thought to check on Royd?” Chase asks, suddenly shocked by another random surge of adrenaline.
As he jogs over to where he knows the man is lying, he notices the Z-Team out of the corner of his eye, blinking as if they’ve just come out of a stupor. He kneels down beside Royd, who is blearily looking up at the ceiling. Even through the squint of his eyes, Chase can tell his pupils are rather dilated. His right temple is bleeding pretty badly, and the whole of his shoulder is burnt, the fabric of his shirt blown clean off by the explosion. His arm is still bent at a strange angle.
“Can you hear me, you big lug?” Chase’s words are harsh, but his tone is nothing but gentle. “Think you can walk?”
Slowly, his gaze shifts to Chase, blinking slowly. “What…?” Realization suddenly dawns on his face. “Robert!” He sits up quickly, eliciting a loud hiss through clenched teeth. He hunches forward, massive shoulders shaking with the enormity of the pain he’s feeling. Chase can’t help but feel bad for the guy.
“He’s fine,” he insists, because worrying Royd further with unknowns isn’t going to get him out of this. He’s not thinking rationally right now, and the pain he’s in is too great to be told anything else. Chase knows from personal experience. “You, on the other hand, look like you were fucked by a garbage disposal. Come on.”
With a pointed look at the Z-Team, trying to convey ‘I can’t support this fifty-foot-tall man myself’, Chase stands up. Coupé and Malevola, thankfully, race forward to grab Royd’s good arm and his chest, somehow hauling the man to his feet.
Royd is mumbling incoherently under his breath, unfortunately placing most of his weight on Malevola, who takes it like a champ. “Gonna be alright, big guy,” she says, patting his chest lightly. “C’mon.”
Coupé grunts slightly with the effort as they step toward the same portal Golem and Robert had disappeared through moments ago. “This is…nothing like…when Fain had to take care of the Prince of Darkness after his battle of honor.”
The room is eerily quiet when they disappear through the portal, and it dissolves behind them. Chase feels faint, himself. He exhales softly, lowering himself to sit on the ground before his knees can give out first. He can just barely bring himself to look up at Punch Up, Prism, and Visi. “What’re you motherfuckers lookin’ at?”
“Your sorry ass,” Prism answers helpfully.
Chase grunts, but he can’t say he particularly blames her for this assessment. “You gonna all fuckin’ stand there starin’ at me like I got a porn crew in here, or go do whatever the fuck it is y’all do?”
“Look, old man,” Visi huffs, “Maybe you should get checked out by a doctor, too. Your hand’s bleeding.”
Even if he wants to, he can’t hold back the scoff that comes next. He glares in her direction, making a point not to even look at his palm. “Unfortunately for you, smartass, I’m not dyin’ yet. Just old as shit. Don’t pretend to care about me. It ain’t cute.”
The look on her face is familiar. An expression of anger, masking quiet hurt that you can only see if you know what it feels like. As he expects, she turns invisible, and she’s gone.
Punch Up shifts his weight uncomfortably, then steps closer to him. “Need a hand, big man?”
“Keep your salty fuckin’ hands to yourself.” Chase smacks his hand to the side. “Go. You got another shift comin’ up, whether you like it or not.”
Prism’s brows furrow. “Yeah, but who’ll dispatch us if Robbie’s fuckin’ around with the Grim Reaper?”
It takes an artist for someone to say something that catches Chase off guard. He’s impressed when he hesitates for a moment. “I don’t fuckin’ know! Just ‘cause I look like Black Einstein don’t mean I got all the answers! Why don’t you go find out, smartass? Go!”
Punch Up giggles under his breath as Prism smacks him on the shoulder, and as requested, they leave Chase be. Finally alone, he glances down at his palm, seeing the blood that has seeped out of the cut he acquired from the ruins of the Mecha Man suit. It’s not deep enough to cause concern, but it definitely is the biggest wound he’s gotten in a long time.
Grumbling under his breath, he forces himself to stand, his knees creaking and shaking under his weight, and makes his way to the bathroom. He holds his hand beneath the water, grinding his teeth and wincing at the pain now that the adrenaline has worn off. Minutes later, the cut is no longer bleeding, but still rather sore.
Chase looks up at his reflection. He looks awful. His white hair is a mess of frizzy coils that stick out every which way, and the dark shadows beneath his eyes look even darker in the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. His expression is more sour than usual, but he thinks that’s for pretty good reason. He so badly wants to lay down for a while and give his sore joints a rest, but he doesn’t have that luxury.
It’s not like he’d be able to sleep, anyway, and now he has to take a shit.
Suddenly, a loud sob interrupts his thoughts. Chase glances over his shoulder, noticing one of the stall doors is closed. He knows he should probably just ignore it, go to the toilet and leave, but he has a sneaking suspicion he knows who it is. Out of everyone in this godforsaken office, he knows he doesn’t want to leave him high and dry.
Leaning one shoulder against the wall, he sighs quietly, looking up at the ceiling. “Y’know, most of us go to the bathroom to take a shit. You’re kinda ruinin’ the vibe in here.”
The crying stops. For a moment, nothing happens. As Chase wonders if he’s taken it too far, there’s the quiet click of the plastic sliding out of its lock and the door swings open. Royd steps out, looking sort of how Chase feels. His head is bandaged, his arm in a sling, and he’s covered in various bruises and cuts. Most notably, however, are the red eyes and streaks of tears down his cheeks.
“You look like shit, kid,” Chase says, probably unhelpfully, as he looks him up and down. “You’re lucky you’re alive, y’know. And conscious, for that matter.”
Royd’s shoulders sag, and it’s amazing how small he can make himself look despite his stature. “I know.” He sniffles, rubbing at his nose with his good hand. “And…and Robert…”
“Will be fine,” he assures him, despite the fact that he doesn’t know for sure. “Bastard’s been through a lot worse than that. What’re you doin’ in here feelin’ fuckin’ sorry for yourself? You should be resting.”
Royd stares pathetically at the floor. “It’s ovah. I cannot recreate da astral pulse.” A tear sparkles in the fluorescent lights as it rolls down his cheek. “Got Robert blowed up. Almost got us all blowed up. I not good enough. Such a failure.”
It’s unsettling, Chase thinks, seeing Royd like this. He’s always so full of happy, boundless energy, like Beef when he sees a piece of cheese. Sometimes too happy, sometimes too full of boundless energy, enough to give Chase a headache, but that’s who Royd is. Right now, he’s a shell of his former self, and Chase, for one, really doesn’t like it.
“You really think Robert’s gonna give a shit about failure number nineteen?” Chase scoffs. “He’ll keep tryin’ as long as you do. He’s got more faith in you than in anything he’s had the last ten years. I mean, you’ve seen his shitty apartment. Surprised the bastard didn’t get into drugs.”
Royd doesn’t seem very comforted. His brow furrows as a few more tears roll down his cheeks. “Maybe he shouldn’ta had faith in me, Chase,” he says, his voice small. “He got real hurt. I not a good enough gearhead for dis. Someone else gotta do it.”
“Look, asshole, Blazer asked you to help Robert out for a reason. Hell, you think everyone gets it right on the first try?” Chase is somewhat angry now. It’s welcome and familiar, much better than the emotions he’d been feeling before. “You keep sayin’ you can’t do it, then it’ll really be the fuckin’ truth.”
Closing his eyes, Royd stifles a sob, placing his good hand over his face to try in vain to hide it. “Maybe Blazer was wrong.”
For a long moment, Chase stands there helplessly, staring at the man who’s almost twice his size and crying like a baby. Crying reminds him of a much younger Robert, lamenting about how stupid it is that he’s crying, and how Chase tells him it isn’t stupid at all.
It applies here, too.
He sighs, holding one arm up. “C’mere, you big bastard.”
Royd lowers himself onto one knee, leaning against Chase’s shoulder. The older man pats his back gently, staring up at the ceiling as the sound of sobs echo off the walls. He thinks about Robbie, who acted as though the world rested on his shoulders alone, and he thinks about Robert, who is desperately trying to cling to any sort of legacy he has left. He thinks about Royd, and how much he must be struggling with under the happy mask he puts on.
After a few minutes, he pulls back a bit, looking Royd in the eye for the first time, since he’s finally at his height. “You need a fuckin’ nap. Go on.”
That actually gets a chuckle out of the other man, who carefully wipes his cheeks with the palm of his good hand. “Maybe.” He slowly gets to his feet, swaying a bit with the effort - Chase is assuming that he has a concussion, but can’t be too sure if it’s that or the exhaustion - and begins walking toward the bathroom exit. He pauses in the doorway, broad torso still somewhat hunched as he glances over his shoulder. His face is still streaked and blotchy, but he manages a slight smile. “Thanks, bruddah.”
With that, he disappears, leaving Chase alone to take his shit in peace.
After leaving the bathroom, Chase walks straight to the infirmary. When he passes one of the rooms, he looks through the glass and notices Royd laying on a bed, his eyes closed, his sleeping face finally relaxed. Chase is quietly relieved.
The next room over is where they’ve hooked Robert up, and he finds Visi standing near the glass doors - not in the room, but staring into it. She looks somewhat dazed, her brow furrowed and her eyes far away. Chase sighs quietly, approaching with his arms folded over his chest. “He gonna make it?”
She jumps a little at his sudden appearance, immediately turning her face away from him. Huffing, she crosses her arms too. “Why’re you asking me? You think I don’t care.”
Chase is so tired. He looks through the glass, seeing the faint outline of them both standing there while a doctor moves around inside. “I think you care about him,” he says finally, nodding toward the hospital bed. He can’t be too sure what she actually thinks - he still assumes she’ll continue taking from Robert until she can’t take anymore - but the last hour has shown him she can show emotion other than anger.
Out of the corner of his eye, he notices her shoulders sag slightly. “He’ll be fine,” she answers, her voice uncharacteristically quiet. “He needs to sleep it off.”
A memory shakes him, so sudden and violent his vision splotches.
An entirely new mix of emotions paint Elliot’s face as he absentmindedly flips a quarter between his fingers. He’s facing the glass window, with Chase standing beside him. He looks through the glass, seeing the faint outline of them both standing there while a doctor rushes around inside.
“What the fuck happened?”
“Hit his head fighting that hack villain,” he answers, his jaw rather clenched. “If he would just let me help him, be a part of the team -”
“I know, Elliot. You know me and Vitalia are all in.” Chase sighs. “Robbie’s just…he’ll come around, if the fucker knows what’s good for him.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he turns his gaze back to the glass. “He gonna be okay?”
He takes a sharp breath. “He’ll be fine. Just has to sleep it off.”
“Whoa. You just got super pale. You okay?”
Chase blinks, and Visi is staring at him with an entirely new mix of emotions on her face. He can’t really decipher it; her brow is even more furrowed than usual, her forehead creased, and her eyes are stormy.
A moment ago, it had been Elliot. The similarities make his chest hurt.
He sucks in breath, forcing himself to exhale and keep himself upright. “Fine,” he says finally.
After eyeing him for a second, clearly not believing him but knowing better than to point this out, Visi pulls out her inhaler, takes a puff, and disappears, leaving his reflection alone in the glass.
Chase steps into the infirmary room, his eyes falling on Robert. He’s laying on his back, nerve-wrackingly still save for the steady beep coming from the monitor beside the bed. The doctor says something to him about Robert being in stable condition before leaving, and Chase pulls up a chair to sit beside him.
He stares at Robert, his brain wandering. This is the boy who is like a brother to him, who could always match his quick quips and who used to think he was the coolest person in the world next to his father. He hadn't seen him in years because it didn't feel right reaching out after Robbie died. Robbie died because he wasn't fast enough, so how could he have faced Robert back then? It was only solidified when Robert himself didn't reach out. It's a wonder he was so happy to see him in the records room all those weeks ago.
“Fuckin’ idiot,” he murmurs, his gaze drifting from his hand to his face, shaking his head slightly. “You know you ain’t got nothin’ to prove. Not to me, not to the world. Robbie wouldn’t have…” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He wouldn’t have wanted this, right?
As the years go by, he thinks he knows less and less.
After a quick text, Blazer comes by with Beef in her arms, worrying over Robert in a somewhat sweet way. After getting the story from Chase, she sighs softly. “I’m worried he’s taking on a lot more than he should.”
“Yeah, probably,” Chase agrees tiredly, watching Beef’s tail wag back and forth as he makes himself comfortable on Robert’s chest. “But he’s stronger than he looks. I’m fuckin’ proud of the man he’s become.”
Blazer looks at him, a rather gentle smile on her face. “High praise, coming from you.” She places a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Don’t worry about the rest of your shift. Keep him company for me.”
“Will do.”
When she leaves, the silence is heavy. Chase leans back in his chair, closing his eyes. It’s true - he’s really proud of Robert. Where Robbie had weaknesses in seeing the bigger picture, Robert had that in spades. He cares, and cares a lot. It’s exactly why he knows that he would never, in a million years, have anything bad to say about Royd despite the explosion.
Chase sees Robbie and Robert, side by side, with Mecha Man and Shroud looming over them, and he knows, somehow, that he can only save one of them. Robbie berates him. Robert cries. Chase isn’t fast enough, his heart hurts -
And he wakes up with a start, with Royd shaking him gently. He makes a passive comment about how it seemed Chase was having a bad dream, and Chase eloquently tells him to fuck off. They sit together for the next few hours until Robert finally wakes up.
Royd tells him he can’t make the astral pulse. Robert tells him it’s okay, and that he knows he did his best, and he leaves the room. When Robert asks Chase about Visi, and why he doesn’t like her, he thinks back on his memory.
She’s going to become like Elliot. Like Shroud. Just you wait.
But then again, Robert is one stubborn motherfucker.
When he gets up to go back to work, leaving Chase alone in the infirmary, he stares at the glass door again, looking at his reflection, and wonders if he should start being stubborn, too.