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Robert hasn't visited his father's grave since the day of his funeral. Perhaps that's cruel, but he's been far too busy for something so trivial. That's what he tells himself, anyway.
However, after 15 years, he's come to change that.
Okay, so technically, he has visited, since his father has two graves, as does his grandfather. The public one, which hails the name of the Mecha Man and their legacy proudly, which he has gone to plenty of times; and the private one, which holds their actual bodies and names. The latter he hasn't stepped a foot near in over a decade, a fact he should perhaps be more ashamed of. Courtney certainly thinks so. When he'd passively mentioned the fact during dinner, she'd given him the most bizarre glare, as if he'd just pronounced himself a mass murderer.
"Damn, you really do have daddy issues." she'd said to him after a moment of silence. He couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes.
"You're saying I have daddy issues because I don't visit my father's grave?"
"No, but it's definitely proof that you have issues. I mean, what asshole can't bring themselves to visit their dad's grave?" Courtney had said it with a light chuckle and a smile, but a pang as sharp as a blade had crossed through Robert's chest. Jokingly as she may have said it, it was true. How could he not bring himself to visit his father's grave? Almost 20 years it has been since he died, and he hasn't even made one single drop by, not even a brief one. Unintended it was, but that short conversation filled him up with a sense of shame, sticky like tar against his insides and impossible to wash away no matter what he drank or how hard he scrubbed in the shower. It haunted him for days, filling him up like toxic gas that had sprung free from an unsuspecting bursed pipe, and sleep began to evade him for weeks.
After one too many missed calls and late turn ups to work, the Z team forced him into a Meeting, although it was better suited the title of Interrogation. God forbid a man fall apart a little bit without a full out inquisition around here. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately depending on who you asked, Robert had been far too exhausted to hide his woes, and the solution had been quickly agreed upon by the team: go for a visit. Just one.
"Seriously?"
"Yes, seriously! Look, I'll even take you there myself. You'll save up on travel time." Malevola had offered after Robert reacted to her suggestion like she'd grown nine extra heads. Robert was about to decline her, but of course, the rest of the team jumped onto this idea like feral squirrels, and by the end, they'd all agreed that Robert will go for one short visit whether he likes it or not. Robert had returned to his desk feeling like weights had been tied to every limb.
That's how he ended up here, standing right at the gates of the graveyard where Mal had left him, holding a bouquet of yellow carnations and white chrysanthemums, handed to him by a stern Janelle.
"I believe these will be adequate for your father from you." He hadn't had the chance to respond to that before she'd walked away as quickly as she could.
Now, he stood alone, in his plain white button up and black trousers, feeling for all the world like the teenager he'd been at his dad's funeral. He tightens his hold on the bouquet before finally pushing forward and opening the rusty gate covered in peeling paint. Robert shivers when he passes through, the hair along his back and arms rising up against the chill as he roves his eyes over this dead place. The graveyard is lonely, emitting a sacred frost that goes against the naturally warm weather beyond its breaches. He wishes he'd brought a jacket, his clothes too thin to combat the unexpected shift in temperature, but the only thing he can do now is hope and pray the cold doesn't make his fingers ache to the point his grip on the flowers loosens. With a shaky breath, he starts to walk up the hill, where the man of the hour has laid so lonesome.
While this may be the first time he's gone to see his dad in over a decade, this is far from the first time he's entered this graveyard. He'd gone as a child, when he was too small for death to mean anything, to visit his grandpa, where he'd sit and watch his dad clean up any weeds that had grown and leave behind flowers and silence. Robert had always found it incredibly boring, and the crestfallen look that would befall his father while there left a heavy, gross feeling in his tummy that urged him to walk away, to wander around the other stones, picking up stray dandelions and daisies that he would leave for his grandpa. It always made his dad smile, the shakey kind that left Robert to squirm in discomfort at the grief he could hardly see or understand.
"I think Grandpa Bobby would love them." his dad would say in a voice unlike his own, and Robert would tentatively place his meager picking next to the orange roses and lilies his dad always picked out. He never figured out why it was always just orange and no other colour, but he figured orange must've been grandpa's favourite colour. Then, his dad would take his hand, or pick him up when he was still very small, and lead him out the graveyard, away from the dreadful silence and chocking fumes. Once he'd been old enough to understand the severity of death, he'd prayed that he'd never have to be in the same position his dad was in, but the universe was rarely kind to him.
He's already walked past his grandpa's grave a long while ago, a plain cross with his name and the two dates encompassing his life inscribed upon it. Beloved husband and father stood beneath those words, unreflected in the weed covered grave with wilted flowers left behind from his dad's last ever visit. He'd winced at the sight of it. Perhaps his next order of business would be to drop a visit to Grandpa Bobby, make sure his grave is at the least neat and tidy. No matter, not the focus now. He turns his attention back to his burning legs as he walks higher and higher up the hill. His father was nestled away deeply in the graveyard, hidden away from sight the way he liked to hide himself away in his shed, his office, his room and the darkest corners of the Brigade's base. His dad had always liked the dark and the small, the unreachable.
He eventually reaches the top, an area covered by a large tree, with its branches leaning over the graveyard's fence comfortably and leaving a nice spot of shade right where his father's grave is, right where the stone bearing the name of a face he hasn't seen in the flesh in a long time lies. Surprisingly, the grave is not as abandoned as he'd expected it to be, considering the older woman stood in front of it, leaning on a crutch for support. He doesn't recognise her from the back, but she must be someone he knows, or at least someone his father knew. His fingers twitch around the bouquet before he speaks.
"Um, excuse me?" The woman turns around at the sound of his voice, looking hardly any familiar. She wears blue eyeshadow and brownish red lipstick, decorated in wrinkles, dots of moles and silver strings within her dark hair that falls in a braid. She looks grey, her skin milky and gaunt, emphasising her dark clothes of black and blue. Her face seems taut with pain, yet she manages to muster a smile when her brown eyes fall on him.
"Ah, I was wondering when you'd finally come here." she says wistfully. "I mean, I presumed that after defeating Eli-Shroud that perhaps you'd finally find the bravery to... to..." she starts to mumble, and Robert could only blink incredulously.
"I- I'm sorry, but do I know you?" he asks, trying to keep the agitated edge out of his voice. He shuffles his feet beneath him as the woman lets out a quiet, saddened chuckle, adjusting her hold on the crutch.
"Yes, you do. Although, I don't think you remember me." she says. Her hold on the crutch starts to turn shaky, and Robert finds himself moving forward to catch her before she can even fully fall to the ground. The woman thanks him before turning her eyes to the offending item, her nose scrunches up as she throws the thing away. "I lost the other one. Damn thing's useless without a mate." She motions with her finger to be lowered on the ground and Robert does so, allowing the woman to settle on the grass with her head resting on the palm of her hand.
Once she appears comfortable, Robert moves forward and kneels down to place the bouquet, noticing the yellow roses and pink carnations already placed there, alongside the two freshly lit candles inside little jars. The grave is incredibly tidy, as if it has been receiving constant maintenance rather than being left to rot for years. He turns back around to look at the woman, who is evidently already watching him first. He rises up.
"Seriously, who are you?" he asks, now more curious than anything. The woman doesn't respond for a minute, listening to the chirp of birds and the ruffling of leaves as she tucks a stray hair behind her ear.
"Most people these days call me Crina. You can call me that too, but you'd probably know me better as... Vitalia." she says softly, and Robert can't help the instinctive gasp he lets out. The woman, no, Vitalia looks away, instead picking at a loose string on her cardigan.
"Vitalia? As in, the Vitalia that worked with my dad?"
"Yeah, that one. I don't believe there's many other Vitalias walking around this city. Not that I know of." she says between chuckles that die off so quickly, Robert honestly thinks they were fake. A great gulf opens up between them in their silence, and Robert desperately wants to reach over the space, opening his mouth and then closing it again like a fish out of water. "Maybe don't refer to me as Vitalia, though. I haven't gone by that in years."
"Right, of course."
Vitalia, or Crina rather, was one of the Brave Brigade members that had been around for the longest time. He can't remember a time when she wasn't apart of the team, and he always got the sense that her and his dad knew each other extremely well, although he had never been able to figure out how well. He remembers only a little of her: the way she always seemed to be picking apart at her make-up and hair, the warm feeling that would come over him when she healed another scrape or bruise, her and dad smoking together on the curb, the homemade treats she sometimes brought along at team hangouts, the fact she always tried to smile at him when he was in the room, even if she didn't actually appear particularly happy. At first, she appeared to be a no nonsense woman who got things done her own way, with a perpetually serious face that made most people assume she was always angry or upset with them. He'd assumed the same, until the accident that had cost him a chunk of his ear, where she'd held him and run her hand up and down his back for no other purpose than comfort long after he'd been healed.
"I knew it would take you a long time to come here." she said in a hushed voice.
"Huh?" Robert is pulled out of his thoughts, realising he's been staring for who knows how long at the ground, at a dandelion he's accidently smashed with his foot. Crina chooses to ignore his inattention, simply patting down the spot next to her. His breath knotted in his chest, he moves to sit down, pulling at the grass around him rather than meeting her eyes or the grave in front of him. She starts talking again, a little louder than before.
"I knew it would take you a long time to come here, if you were anything like your dad. That's why I come here, why I've never stopped coming here in the past 15 years." she says, picking at some daisies and dandelions around her and beginning to weave them together into a chain. "And perhaps I came for myself too."
"I'm sorry you had to do that, you must think I'm awful-"
"Far from it." A smile creeps onto her face. "You've gone through some rough shit, survived and lived to the other end. You are..." she trails off, suddenly sounding rather unsure.
"A hero?"
"Yes, but also... Nevermind." she says, grabbing his wrist and slipping on the small flower bracelet she made. It brings Robert back to when he was tiny, when he'd make the same chains in the backyard then hide them away in his drawers for later, not realising the flowers were doomed to rot and die, just like every Robertson man before him had done inside that suit. That had once been his fate too. Is it still? "You've been very strong and brave, but the pain from grief can be so complicated. It never quite leaves."
"Is that why you're here?" he asks, and Crina blinks once, twice, licking her lips before she gets the words out.
"Yes." She turns to look at the grave again, her dark eyes catching the light of one of the candles. "I loved your dad. He was the first ever friend I made here, and we've stuck together through the worst and the best."
Empty space. Words left unsaid. Robert wishes he could say more, but he's interrupted by his phone before he can get anything out. He mutters out a quick sorry before pulling it out to see a message from Courtney.
Visi: hey, your taking longer than you said you would? you okay????
Robert can't help the small smile that makes its way onto his lips as he types up a response that will put his girlfriend at ease.
Robert: First of all, *you're
Robert: Second of all, I promise I'm fine. Just needed a bit longer than I expected. I'll be back soon
Visi: If you say so
Visi: 😜💕
Robert chuckles, sending a simple heart emoji back before putting his phone away. He looks up to see Crina gazing at him with an affectionate smile. When their eyes meet, she gasps and looks away, as if caught in the middle of a crime.
"Sorry, sorry. Bad habit." she says, taking her braid and running her hands over it.
"It's fine, don't worry about it." he reassures her. Was it a bit odd? Maybe, but he hardly imagines she meant any harm by it.
"You just reminded me a lot of your parents when they first got together. They were teens, and your dad was going through a rough patch where he kind of hated everything. Depression, a modern psychologist would say; moody teenager bullshit is what your grandma said. It was almost like he'd been sucked dry of life, and then your mom, she... she was so colourful, it was infectious. He smiled for the first time in months, an actual smile, and she was brighter for it too. It wasn't perfect, but they were... happy." The smile she had during the story seems to dwindle once she looks forward and remembers where she is. Robert can't help but rest a hand on her shoulder in some attempt to comfort Crina, no matter how much he desires to urge her to tell him more, every little detail she could muster out. "Sorry."
"I don't mind." He's hardly heard anything about his mom, and nothing has ever been uttered about his dad in his youth to him until now.
"Yeah..." she says passively. Her face scrunches up slightly, as if she's thinking of something upsetting, or perhaps is in genuine pain. Robert actually considers the latter, and is about to offer to help her get home when she starts speaking again. "Your dad was a complicated person. He only knew how to keep things under lock and key, even when there was no space left for anything. He could be fucking infuriating at times, stubborn and uncooperative, but I never loved him any less."
"Um, okay-"
"It's easier when you're not a child. Parents can be... so wrong sometimes. No matter how well intentioned they are, they'll hurt you and not even realise." Crina adjusts herself on the ground, reaching out to grab her abandoned crutch and place it in her lap. Robert can only nod in response. "I probably should've pushed him more when it came to you."
"It's fine. I mean, I'm over it."
"If that's what you say." she says, and the sounds of nature take over the space between them again. The woman shakily pulls herself to her feet with the help of her crutch, wobbling on its support as pain causes her to grit her teeth. Robert is up on his feet in a second, ignoring the ache in his legs in favour of helping keep the older woman steady.
"Do you need some help?" he asks, watching her shift her hold and wince.
"Yes, please, thank you." Robert moves over to support the side where she has no crutch, slowly walking down the hill. "I think I underestimated my pain levels today."
The walk down the hill takes a century, but Robert will not complain, especially since Crina looks a hundred percent miserable. He isn't sure if it's because she needed help at all, but if he had to take a gamble, he'd go for that. He knows the feeling, having your body fail you and needing assistance just to get by something you'd usually be able to do on your own is humiliating. He feels lucky not to need mobility aids yet, but with the way the medical staff at SDN keep eyeing him, he imagines it's going to come for him in the not-so-distant future. The burning in his legs seem to agree with the sentiment. Thankfully, they manage to get down with no worsening symptoms, getting past the gate that finally allows them to be hit with the warm air they're familiar with. Crina immediately moves to lean against the fence, her chest heaving harshly and her legs shaking. In the harsh light of the sun, the unhealthy paleness on her face becomes even more evident, along with the dark circles beneath her eyes and the way her bones seem to stick out in odd places, an extreme contrast to the lively woman he remembers from his childhood.
"I hope this isn't too rude to ask, but what happened to you?" he says, watching her tighten her cardigan around her as if she's still freezing. Considering the lack of fat and muscle on her, she probably is.
"My powers. Every time I used them, my body became weaker and weaker. I didn't realise how bad it was until I collapsed and had to be hospitalised, and even then I didn't stop." she lets out a heavy sigh, raising her hand to her chest, right where her heart is. If she were to raise her other hand, the one which holds onto the crutch, she would be holding her signature pose. She can't do it. "Stupid, I know, but it wasn't about me."
Robert knows. It was about the city, it was about the people. Healers of any kind are treasured for their abilities, expected to heal everyone possible out of the mere goodness of their hearts. It was selfish to stop, even for your own health. It's the curse of being a hero; others will always come before you.
"I'm sorry, Crina. That must've been difficult for you."
"Hey, it's fine. I've learned to live with it. It sucks, and I'm probably getting poorer every single day from all this damn medical shit, but at least I'm alive."
"You're a tough cookie then, eh?" Crina giggles at his words.
"You could say that." she says, leaning her head against the fence, letting out a huge sigh, as if a boulder has suddenly befallen her shoulders. She pats the pockets of her cardigan, pulling out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. She quickly lights one and puts the paper to lips, releasing a puff of dark smoke. Robert has the feeling that she's probably not meant to be smoking with her illness, but he'll say nothing. She probably already knows. "Besides, there have been more difficult things in my life than my sad, little body failing me. One example? The little cunt that still has me blocked." Robert can't help but raise an eyebrow at the sudden harshness in her tone.
"Do I happen to know of this person, or...?"
"Of course you know of him! He works with you at SDN, does he not?" she says. A laugh bubbles up from Robert's throat.
"No way! Are we talking about Chase right now?" Robert can't quite wipe the smile off his face, his amusement warm in his chest. Crina rolls her eyes, taking another breath of the toxic smoke.
"Of course I'm talking about Chase! The little shit blocked me nearly 9 years ago and then disappeared off the face of the earth. I thought he'd left LA entirely for the longest time." She releases her hold on the crutch for a moment to press her fingers to her forehead, as if trying to fight off an oncoming headache, literal or not. "Then, his face is suddenly on my damn tv, looking 2 times older than when I last saw him, wearing a whole new costume, surrounded by a bunch of young heroes and talking about Shroud being dead. I knew you were there the moment I heard the man's name, but Chase... he caught me off guard."
I thought I'd never see him again.
She doesn't say it, but Robert hears it anyway. He'd thought the same once, although he'd been the one running and hiding away like a coward.
"And look, I'm not angry at him, just frustrated. He left when we still needed him, when things were at their worst, and I know he was was not in the best place, but none of us were. I'm- I'm upset, more than anything." she drops the nearly finished cigarette to the ground and crushes it with her foot, covering her face as if she was about to cry. Maybe she already was. "After your dad died, the Brigade collapsed, and by the time my illness became evident, there was only three of us. There was just me, Xuli and Chase. Then he disappeared, and it was just me and Xuli, and I was so weak all the time, I couldn't even try to look for him. We gave up, and hoped he would come back himself. He never came back." Her voice somehow sounds steady, but her body seems to be shaking violently. Robert moves to lean down and hold her lightly by the arms, running his hands up and down in a slow, soothing manner.
"I'm sorry."
She takes a deep breath, removing her hands from her face to reveal completely dry skin, not even the glassy sheen of tears in her eyes, although her lips seem to twitch slightly before she bites down to stop it.
"We really need to stop with all the apologising." she says with a small smile, causing Robert to laugh lightly.
"I think we can excuse it this one time, considering where we are."
The two laugh together, when they are interrupted by another notification from Robert's phone. Taking his phone out, he finds multiple messages asking him when he's returning. Well, not really.
Visi: hurry uuuuupp!!!!!!!!!?!
Visi: seriously, I think the old man might kill us all including you any minute now
Visi: either that or he ll come and drag you back himself
Visi: C and A won't stop singing
Visi: Colm just joined them , he's teaching them some drunk irish song or whatever
She's still typing frantically, and Robert can only imagine what other chaos the team has caused with Robert gone during the morning shift. He'd hoped Starblazer joining the hero roster for a short while would motivate the Z team to behave themselves for longer, but his first mistake had been to think the team would care. At least it sounds like they aren't disrupting anything or causing too many problems, just entertaining themselves in the most inconvenient way possible. Poor Mandy. He'll have to repay her big time for the estimated 50 grey hairs she's gotten this morning alone because of him. He answers before Courtney can finish her next text.
Robert: Don't worry, I'm heading back now. I've seen everything I needed to see.
Robert: Also, do they sound any good???
Visi: Alice yes Chad no Colm maybe idk i've kinda muted them now
Visi: i'll tell Mal your ready to come back
Robert: Thank you.
Robert puts his phone away and turns back to Crina, who has taken out her own phone and seems to be texting someone as well. He figures it's Xuli, the woman he only remembers because Chase used to talk about her often when he babysat him; she was the second youngest Brave Brigade member, although he can't remember her hero name, extremely energetic and optimistic, and also the one who kicked a ball in Robert's face by accident when he was 9, breaking his nose and making him cry bloody murder. His dad had been furious with her, but even his anger hadn't been able to stop her from shaking and wheezing with contained laughter once Robert had been all healed up and his dad wasn't looking. That day, his dad had let him sit in his lap while he was getting healed, even though he was getting too old for it. It had been a short moment, followed by a light kiss to the head before sending him off on his way again, but Robert has always cherished it.
"I should get going." he says, turning Crina's gaze back onto him.
"Yeah, me too. My body really needs the rest right now." She looks out into the distance, perhaps looking for someone specific. "And before you ask, yes, I'm being picked up. Xuli should be here any minute." She readjusts her hold on the crutch, then digs through her cardigan pocket to pull out a piece of paper that she hands to him. "My phone number. In case you ever want to talk to me again."
"Thank you, Crina." he says, holding the paper out in his hand before tucking it away safely in his pocket. "I'll try to talk to Chase about unblocking you."
"You really don't have to do that. I'm happy just knowing where he is, as long as he's doing well." she says, before something catches her eyes and she starts to move away. He presumes her ride home must be here. "Goodbye Robert!"
"Goodbye!"
In the next second, a portal opens up beneath him, and he falls straight into his seat in his office at SDN. He looks up to see Malevola with a smirk and Mandy holding back laughter behind her hand.
"Welcome back, Robert." Courtney says, leaning on the back of his chair as she materialises in a flash of pink.
Fucking hell.
The rest of the day is spent with constant questioning about how his trip went and how he's feeling, and while he appreciates the thought, he's getting really tired of answering the same damn questions over and over again. After the evening shift is wrapped up, he forgoes going home in favour of some fresh air with Beef at his side, sniffing at the ground. The light breeze feels pleasant against his skin, and lets him sink comfortably onto a near by bench to enjoy the quiet sounds of birds and people talking in the distance. When Beef runs off barking towards the costumed man approaching him, he knows his short lived peace is over. Starblazer happily picks up the rotund dog before sitting down next to Robert.
"How did your visit go, motherfucker?" Robert lets out a sigh while Chase chuckles at him. He's about to dismissively give the same answer he's given everyone when he remembers the paper in his pocket, the flower chain around his wrist, the promise he made more to himself than to Crina.
"It was fine. Actually, I ran into someone while I was there."
"Who the fuck could you run into at a graveyard? Fucking Casper?" Chase asks, and Robert starts to laugh. "Well? C'mon fucker, share with the class!"
"Do you remember Vitalia?"