Chapter Text
Having a day off was something no one expected Robert to do. Not that he doesn’t deserve one, but he doesn’t find a reason to have a day off, and that he thinks he doesn’t deserve one.
So when morning came, the Z-Team was greeted with a voice that doesn’t sound or act like Robert. The person doesn’t even work at SDN, he just picked the shift off from the registry. They were told they have to be prepared for situations like this, but does it suck to have someone who couldn’t bother to know their names, their attributes and characteristics. Like who assigns Waterboy to stop a flood and thinks that it works?
The first few hours were described as draining, the Z-Team might’ve thought Robert would appear at the end of the shift, lecturing on how they should be more thankful to their dispatcher. Or maybe someone thought of an idea to troll them. And if that was the case, then it’s working.
Afternoon came by slowly and Coupe and Punch Up were done showing how to self defend in a karate class. The class ended and the kids who were picked up by their parents came to brag on how a hero came to their lesson. Punch Up was afraid that one wrong move could hurt the kids so the hero they praised most about was on Coupe, making her feel validated amongst citizens. Her stomach grumbles.
“Me too, Coupe,” Punch Up related. “We don’t exactly have to rest in SDN, do we?”
“As long as we’re not out of the map,” Coupe replied, “and that we tell our Dispatcher beforehand.”
“Then to eat we shall,” Punch Up declared. And so they notified their dispatcher about their break; and for once it’s something they all agreed on— or maybe he was just sick of the whole group. So the two walked around town, looking at possible food options.
The place to agree on was iHOP. Very convenient, kind of expensive for just pancakes and a hamburger, but would they rather eat at a McDonalds? Probably but that’s not the point. They’re both in need of some food. Speaking of food…
“Isn’t it weird that Robert hasn’t been responding lately?” Coupe asked. Despite their dispatcher being out of commission, she couldn’t help but think of how the poor man is doing, knowing how awful he is at regulating his diet. The time he ordered from doordash felt like a moment in history. Right now he might be starving at home, rummaging through his cabinets to find a fly and a prayer.
“Could be because he’s sick,” Punch Up reasoned, likely imagining a lonely Robert laying down in his bed, still starving, but not having the energy to get up and eat a snack. Poor lad, really.
“If he was, he'd still show until someone reminds him what PTO is.”
“You’re right….”
Upon entering iHOP, they spot a person leaving the diner, wearing a skin tight suit with white boots, and a brown jacket; head down and shoulders slumped, looking as if their day was completely ruined. Their head rises, spotting the two heroes right in front of them, walking faster to approach.
“Hey, excuse me? Could you guys do me a huge favor?” The stranger spoke. Punch Up looks up to see the view of the person. Reddish-brown hair with a telling sign that it needs a haircut, but maybe that’s their personal style with this angsty teenage look. And despite the smaller hero looking like a child from behind, he could distinguish that this person, taller than Punch Up but still shorter than Coupe, is a teenager.
Despite the two heroes on their resting period, it wouldn’t hurt to keep giving, would it? “What help could we provide you with?” Coupe asked.
“I’ve only got ten dollars in my wallet, would you guys mind pitching five more?” The teen requested.
Poor kid’s probably spent too much of their monthly allowance, just to find that they couldn’t afford food.
Punch Up looked at Coupe, who’s been thinking the same thing.
“Aye, fuck it,” Punch Up said, patting the kid’s thigh (he meant to pat the back,) welcoming the kid to their group. This leads the other to let out a sigh in relief.
The three enter iHOP, and to make things less complicated, they let the kid sit with them, for protection reasons of course. The waitress came by to take their orders, and while it’s afternoon they still ordered food from the breakfast category. The waitress left and the three were left in anticipation.
Silence.
“Hey kid, you wanna hear what we did today?” Punch Up asked. The kid nodded his head.
Then the two reenacted their mission, and the teen watched, making it obvious that he’s trying to keep his cool but he was so amazed. And to think of someone finding interest over something so mundane.
“So what are you guys like, heroes or something?” The teen asked. The two beamed.
Punch Up beam, “Fuck yeah we are.”
“So like m—”
“One hamburger, no onions, and fries, did I get that right?” Interrupted the waitress, holding what appears to be the kid’s food. He eyes at it, and looks back at her.
“Yes! Thank you miss!” He thanked. The waitress placed the food down. The kid grabs two fries. “So like m—”
“Three pancakes and one coffee,” The waitress said. Coupe raised her hand, indicating that it was her who ordered it. She placed the drink down along with some creamers.
“Could I get more creamers, please?” The winged hero requested. Punch Up could spot the teen feeling bothered, but didn’t say anything, so the kid ate his fries instead. The smaller hero wanted to give props on who gave this kid such discipline.
“Of course!” The waitress responded, having the request noted for later.
Once the conversation ended, the kid spoke up once again. “I’m also a—”
“Two waffles and four bacon,” Why did he even try?
Punch Up waves his hand. “That’s me.”
“Have a nice meal you guys,” She said. The three gave their thanks to the waitress. After she left they began digging in. Whilst the heroes were eating, they took a glance at the kid.
The burger was given big bites. When he spotted the tomato he commented that he forgot to remove it, yet he continued eating. Even with the lack of knowledge, it was obvious that the kid didn’t come from a good background.
A bit of dirt smeared his face, his bomber jacket having days worth of wrinkles and dust, and his hair was in dire need of a haircut. Even if it’s to look angsty, there are some strands of hair that appear too long or too short. Did his parents not see or feel the need to give him a haircut?
“I can’t,” he swallows, “thank you enough,” He said, once again munching on his burger.
Punch Up spoke, “I hope this isn’t personal but,” he opened his hand, waving around the kid’s appearance, “what’s got you like this?” he asked whilst the teenager was taking his last bite. He points at Coupe’s empty mug, inquiring if he could use it, she nods her head.
He pours extra coffee into the mug. “To be fair, I don’t actually know,” he takes a sugar packet. “One day I picked up someone’s shift, so I was doing my usual shit.” Ah. That sounds like a certain someone that they know of. The teen rips the sugar packet, pours it into his coffee, and mixes it.
“Like what?” Said Punch Up.
“Keep it down low but,” The kid made a motion, demanding the two to huddle up. He whispers, “I do hero work like you guys,” The two hitched their breaths. They took a look at the kid, who was smiling at them, then back at each other.
“What kind of hero work?”
“Just whatever crime that shows up. But not the ones you guys get, it’s the more urgent ones,” He explained. He looked at the heroes who went silent, feeling his blood rush down. They were probably jealous that this kid gets to be on the front lines. He waves his hand sideways. “Not to brag or discourage your guys’ work, I appreciate you guys filling in for people’s basic needs.”
The heroes looked at the teen, who seriously apologized for doing the more serious work. Maybe they’d hold some jealousy but this is a teenager who’s carrying the weight of the city from his contribution. They instead want to praise but they know it couldn’t be their first intervention to this issue.
“What’s your name, kid?” Coupe asked.
The kid furthers his eyebrows. “Kid? Nah, I’m no kid,” He curls his fingers to his palm, making the thumb point to himself. “The name’s Robert,” he introduced.
Huh.
What?
“Ro… bert,” Coupe tried enunciating, probably hearing it wrong and the real name is something stupid like Lobert, Robbie, Bobby, Popert.
He repeats. “Robert. I don’t think it’s that hard of a name,” He said. And he’s right.
“Last name?” She queried.
Robert’s shoulders rose up, making a small frown. “You say that but if I give you the answer you’ll—“
“We won’t turn you in—“ Punch Up cuts in.
“Make fun of me,” He finished, whilst his fingers met and fidgeted each other. The two remember the first day they had their new dispatcher. Hearing the name, the damn full name, that was a field day. But the time has passed, they’ve grown used to it by now.
“We won’t, hopefully,” Punch Up said.
But they still hoped this wasn’t who they thought it was.
“Robertson.”
They knew they recognized that jacket somewhere.
