Chapter Text
"Hey, kid, wake up!"
Robert vaguely heard someone calling him, a hand shaking his shoulder to pull him back to the world of the living. He raised his head from his arm, which had served as a temporary pillow for his "short" nap, but his movements felt heavy, as if he were moving through molasses. He groggily reached for his phone to check the time, his heart sinking when he saw the time on the screen. It was already past 6. He had overslept.
Shit, the shift ended almost an hour ago.
He stood up suddenly, but his iron-deficient ass nearly made him stagger backward. He would have hit the floor if not for Chase catching him and holding him stable. The abrupt, sharp roll of the office chair made the remaining dispatchers turn for a moment, but they eventually returned to their own errands.
Robert fixed his gaze on the speedster, whose face was etched with a look of concern. Beef, who had been curled up in his dog bed, trotted toward Robert with a low whine, clearly distraught by his owner’s state.
“Shit, kid you ok? When was the last time you slept?” Chase asked.
Around 3 days ago, maybe? Okay, he had to admit he’d been too occupied helping Royd patch up his Mech in the lab. Sometimes he just forgot to take care of himself, it was already a force of habit that had stuck with him since his days as Mecha Man.
Robert tried to roll his neck, which was stiff from being hunched over his desk for too long, and fuck. He clutched his temple as a sharp, throbbing ache spiked behind his eyes and this sensation was nowhere near the usual, dull discomfort that seared through his old injuries, which had been mended long ago.
A painkiller would have worked wonders for his current state, but as he rifled through his desk drawer, the familiar bottle was nowhere to be found. The loose clatter of pens and paperclips made him wince, the sound rattled against the inside of his skull, making the rhythmic throbbing in his head even worse.
“You still haven’t answered my question, kid.” Chase didn't wait for a reply as he had already switched off his monitor and set his headset down, gathering his things to head home.
“Everything’s peachy. I’m just behind on my meds..” Robert didn't look up, instead keeping his eyes glued to the drawer as he fumbled with a few stacks of old reports. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. It was a half-truth. They’d been so bombarded with calls before lunch that he’d genuinely forgotten about it, and by the time the first shift ended, he was too hungry to care about taking a pill.
“You fucker. I knew I shouldn’t have left you unsupervised,” Chase scolded him, though he lacked any real bite.
“Jesus, Chase, I’m fine. Really,” Robert said dismissively. He forced himself to stand up straighter, gripping the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles turned white to hide the tremor in his hands. “I’m gonna go check the lockers.”
“Yeah, sure.” Chase scooped Beef up into one arm while grabbing his bag with the other, adjusting its grip, then slinging it over his shoulder. “Want me to take the lil' guy home again?”
“I’d appreciate it. You can head out with him whenever you want.”
“Fine. And hey, Robert!”
“Yeah?” Chase rarely used his first name, and Robert knew this was a sign that he was about to get an earful.
"If I hear one fucking word that you've collapsed because you were too fucking stubborn to take a break, I’m ending your shift personally. I’ll drag your goddamn ass out of here and these fuckers won’t be able to stop me. You hear me?"
Robert snorted, a slight, tired sound. “Parenting suits you, Unc.”
“Stop changing the subject, kid. I’m dead serious.” His threats didn’t faze Robert at all. He knew the man too well and would probably take the threat with a grain of salt. Chase had a soft and caring side that was mainly reserved for him, having to spend his younger days watching over him as a child. The former speedster had seen him at his best and absolute worst, and from that he had earned the right to be worried.
“Anyway, I’m heading out. Just be careful,” Chase said, Beef’s tail wagging as they headed toward the stairs. “And call me if you need anything.”
Robert swapped his work uniform for gym gear, pulling a hoodie over his torso and tugging on his sweats before sliding into his shoes. He had hesitated at first, weighing whether he should actually go through with the workout. Originally, the plan was to grab his pills and head straight home, but his apartment was a hollow shell that is devoid of furniture or any real entertainment. The only way to blow off steam without staring at four empty walls was the gym.
He kept a strict schedule twice a week for his workout routine. Monday was for pre-shift grinds, and Friday was for the end of the shift. It wouldn't have been the end of the world to miss a day, but he’d set a goal the moment he woke from his coma, and he wasn't about to break it now. He needed to claw his muscle mass back, hopefully before he had to face the Shroud again.
After dressing, he returned to the locker and rummaged for the bottle of over-the-counter meds. He popped the cap and swallowed a pill dry, reaching for his water bottle on the bench to wash it down.
He could feel the painkillers finally kicking in after twenty minutes. His headache gradually subsided into a residual hum, the pressure dissipating into his neck. Surprisingly, he felt himself cooling down minimally though his body temperature still didn't sit well with him.He shrugged it off, the heat from earlier might had just been the stifling air of the office.
He pushed off the bench and began a low-intensity warm-up, stretching every limb with unhurried, careful movements. As he moved, he ran through a mental checklist of the equipment, filtering for anything that wouldn’t completely wreck him.
Obviously, a bench press was a hard pass tonight, he didn't trust his coordination with a heavy bar over his chest. But some light work with a pair of dumbbells and a moderate jog on the treadmill would be enough to keep his streak alive.
He made his way to the rack and grabbed the small pair of dumbbells. He moved back to his spot in front of the mirror and began his reps, timing each lift with a ragged breath and counting the numbers like a mantra in his head. He wasn’t even halfway through the circuit when a shadow shifted in the glass behind him. In the reflection, he saw a familiar, cocky silhouette looming over his shoulder, the bright gym lights catching the smug grin on fire user’s face
“All that weight, and you still look like you’re gonna get snapped like a fucking twig,” a familiar, boisterous voice boomed from behind.
Robert paused, his muscles screaming as he turned to face the pyromaniac. Chad had ditched his usual v-neck for a white tank top that showed off far too much skin, paired with black shorts featuring those tacky orange flames at the hem.
“Again, Flambae?” Robert narrowed his eyes, the gym lights suddenly feeling twice as bright. “When the fuck are you gonna learn to mind your own business?” Apparently, fate had decided it would be a fun social experiment to trap them in the gym together every single night. Robert was seriously starting to consider that membership offer from that local gym outside SDN.
“Never. I like seeing you squirm, bitch.”
Robert almost fumbled the weights at that. He wanted to crack that look of satisfaction right off his face, but he forced himself to turn back to the mirror, ignoring him. He pushed through another rep, unaware that Flambae was still there, trailing and assessing every inch of him with a piercing, scrutinizing stare
“Your weak ass can't even do a proper set. You’re swinging too fast.” Chad interjected.
Before Robert could snap back, Chad had stepped into his personal space. He reached out, his hand wrapping around Robert’s forearm to kill the momentum of the workout. Flambae was right, Robert hadn't even realized his form had gone to shit. The physical drive of the lift was coming from his shoulder instead of his biceps, his brain was too clouded to focus.
Robert was breathing heavily now, a fine tremor vibrating through his muscles. The cold metal of the weights felt unnervingly slick against his clammy palms, which they felt like lead.
“Bitch, do you want your joints to misalign or what?”
“Is that your new excuse to gloat?” Robert said.
“Can a guy be allowed to be fucking concerned for once?” Chad scoffed, though he didn't pull his hand away. “I’m not a jackass all the time, Robert.”
The use of his actual name made Robert’s heart skip, or maybe that was just the fever. Chad's brow furrowed in the mirror’s reflection. “And why the fuck are you sweating so hard? It’s not even hot in here.”
Robert flinched when a palm suddenly pressed against his forehead. The contact was jarring, between the fever and Chad’s natural heat, he felt like he might nearly melt into a puddle.
“What the fuck... you’re sweltering.” Chad recoiled slightly in alarm, as if Robert's skin had actually burned him.
“I thought you always ran hot,” Robert managed to rasp, though the comeback lacked its usual venom.
“This has nothing to do with my powers, bitch and I mean it literally. Were you really trying to fucking workout while being sick—?”
Robert stopped listening. Flambae’s voice turned into a distorted ramble as he fought to pull oxygen into his lungs. Each breath felt like pushing steam through a rusted pipe. The room began to tilt.
“Shit, Robert can you still hear me? ” The dumbbells slipped involuntarily from his numb fingers, hitting the floor with a metallic clang that echoed through the empty gym.
Chad was closing the distance, his hands hovering near Robert’s shoulders as the younger man started to sway. The world turned into a mess of black spots and high-pitched ringing. Gravity had simply gave up.
Before darkness claimed him, he felt a pair of strong, familiar arms wrap around him, pulling him close as his legs finally gave out.
Twinkled spots danced in his vision as he came to, eventually resolving into a blinding overhead light that pierced his retinas. The reality of his situation set in as the scent of antiseptic wafted through the air and the starched, hospital-grade sheets chafed against his skin.
A feverish haze clotted his memory, making it difficult to piece together the fragments of the evening. He slowly recalled the gym, the weight of the iron, and Chad looming out of the shadows and finally, the look of pure alarm on the fire user’s face before the world went black.
Oh fuck. He’d passed out on Chad.
He tried to bolt upright, but a wave of vertigo crashed over him. A pair of steady hands caught his shoulders, pinning him to the cot before he could lurch any further.
“Woah, HEY! Take it easy, Bob-bob.” Robert craned his head toward the voice. Chad was sitting at the bedside, already changed out of his gym gear and into a fitted jeans, a white v-neck, and a leather jacket. He must have left to change and come back while Robert was out. Despite looking very pissed, vestiges of trepidation still clung to his expression.
“Hey,” Robert said in a hushed tone.
“Really? That’s all you’ve got to say? After you had me sweating bullets when you fucking keeled over on me?!” Chad bellowed, clearly blowing a fuse.
“Awww. I did make you worry. I’m touched.”
“You bitch, this is not the fucking time!”
Chad’s thunderous shout made Robert wince, his fingers digging into the thin mattress. “Keep your voice down... you’re cracking my head open.”
“Oh, I’ll keep cracking it, Mecha-bitch!” Chad barked as he leaned over the cot, concern in his eyes was hidden behind a layer of annoyance. “I’ll drill those thirteen goddamn reasons why you shouldn’t workout while sick until they’re charred directly onto your brain, you masochistic fuck!”
“Thirteen? That’s an oddly specific number, Chad.” Then someone cleared their throat, prompting their bickering to die down instantly and jerked their heads in sync toward the doorway. A woman in a white coat stood there, one of SDN’s physicians
“Am I interrupting something?” she asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow at the pair.
“Nope. You’re just in time to check on this idiot.” Chad offered the reply before Robert could even open his mouth. The doctor simply shook her head.
“Of course,” she said, her tone shifting to cold professionalism as she looked at Chad. “But next time, please keep your voice down and refrain from shouting at my patient. Otherwise, I’ll have to ask you to leave. Would you like that?”
Chad turned a shade of red, flustered by the reprimand. Robert chuckled weakly, giving him a pointed look that screamed 'I told you so.'
“Ugh fine, I'm sorry,” Chad mumbled, looking at his shoes.
“As for you, Mr. Robertson, you certainly have a penchant for disregarding your own health.” The doctor’s pen hovered over his medical history that most likely reads more like a trauma report than a health record, including the stuff that predated him getting recruited to SDN. Every hero and dispatcher working under SDN was required to submit a medical checkup to the infirmary, and Robert’s was a mess.
“I’m used to it by now, Doc,” Robert shrugged, the movement made his head swim. “My health insurance practically hates seeing my name on a claim form.”
Chad choked at that. “How the fuck are you still alive today?”
Robert didn’t answer him. He knew that he was a canvas for decades worth of injuries from the past. He wasn't exactly proud of it, especially since the complications hindered his whatever passes for a daily routine nowadays. But despite those setbacks, some people still managed to admire his indomitable spirit, this fueled Robert to view his injuries as if they were his trophies, and it was the only way of coping with the fact that he’d successfully busted so many bad guys.
“Hmm…” The doctor didn't look up from her clipboard. “Well then, I’d better get this moving. I’m Dr. Baldwin, if you aren't familiar with me.”
Dr. Baldwin ran through the standard checks, asking questions such as when the fever began, if he’d fainted before, and his general symptoms. Robert answered as honestly as his pride allowed. She occasionally turned to Chad, who acted as the sole witness to his collapse. Soon, a nurse arrived to run through the other procedures, checking his vitals, measuring his temperature, and drawing a quick blood sample.
“Let me guess,” Robert started, sensing the shift in her expression. “You’re gonna pull me off the SDN for a couple of days.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Robertson, but it seems that is the case.”
“But the fever isn't even that serious—”
“Your history of overexerting yourself in your most vulnerable moments has made you a prime candidate for cardiac issues, Mr. Robertson. I believe this is for the best.” Dr. Baldwin pronounced, clicking her pen.
“Yeah, listen to her, Robbo. You’re practically a ticking time bomb,” Chad added helpfully. Robert shot him a weary glare.
“I will have to talk to Ms. Blazer regarding this. In the meantime, I’m clearing you to go home and rest.” Dr. Baldwin wished them a good night before heading out, leaving the two of them alone. Chad helped Robert to his feet.
They were silent for a moment until Robert broke it. “Well, I guess I’ll be heading out as well.”
Robert tried to sidestep Chad, but a hand clamped onto his bicep like a vice, halting him instantly.
“Not so fast, Mecha Bitch.”
Robert didn't even have the energy to talk back properly. “The hell do you want now? Let go.”
“Did you seriously think I’m letting you rot in that sorry ass of an apartment alone?” Chad’s grip didn't budge
“I can handle my own shit, Chad. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“No fucking way,” Chad scoffed, stepping closer into Robert's personal space. “I’m not leaving you to starve on some shitty couch with a refrigerator full of nothing but air and expired left overs.”
“Last I checked, I’m the one who gives the orders here”
“Save the authority for the comms, Mecha-bitch. Ranking doesn’t mean shit to me so stop wasting your fucking breath.”
Then, without a word of warning, Chad lunged forward and hauled him over his shoulder in a rough fireman’s carry.
“WHAT THE FUCK PUT ME DOWN!” Robert shouted, his fists thumping uselessly against the upper portion of Chad’s ass
“Blah, blah, blah. I can’t hear you, bitch.” Chad singsonged.
Robert’s stomach did a somersault from the abrupt change in gravity. Being upside down made his fever-induced vertigo ten times worse, his vision swimming as he stared at the floor.
“Chad, I will literally vomit on your ass if you don’t put me down right now,” Robert threatened, his voice muffled since his face was planted firmly against the back of Chad’s leather jacket and jeans.
“Don’t you fucking dare. These pants cost more than your rent.”
Robert couldn’t tell where they were until he felt a sudden gush of night air against his skin. They were outside. Without stopping, Chad shifted his weight, tossing him upward just enough to catch him in a bridal carry. Robert’s head lolled helplessly against Chad’s shoulder. The fire user's body heat felt like a comforting furnace against the chill of his fever.
“Don’t worry,” Chad muttered, his grip tightening securely around Robert. “I’ll be gentle.”
Before Robert could even process the words, the ground vanished. They soared into the night sky, leaving nothing behind but a streak of orange fire.