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After one too many earfuls from Chase, Robert had yielded and put on his knee brace and took his cane to at least walk to work this time. Beef was content in taking a slightly slower pace with him. Or maybe it was that extra weight finally taking its toll on the little guy. He shrugged the thought away, mentally debating where he should hide the mobility aids when he made it to the office.
He wasn’t particularly in the mood to receive more questions and feel even more pathetic than he already did. He reminded himself that this would be, hopefully, temporary. The pain, he had found out and known for quite some time, was a permanent thing. A reminder of every mistake and battle he had fought and made it out of. With the seemingly random cold-fronts as of the past week or two, his joints had felt like locking up and reminding him what a terrible idea it was to walk to work. He persevered for the first few days before Chase had caught him about a block away, half collapsed on the ground of a very dirty alleyway and trying not to throw up. He kept the mental mantra that this would be temporary, ignoring the nagging feeling of being perceived as some weak, washed up hero again.
Washed up, maybe, but he had faced worse battles. He had his time in the suit, patrolling and taking on calls when available. Designated days were provided and changed bi-weekly as to create an inconsistent schedule, making it difficult for any of the slightly brighter villains to get any idea as to when it would be best for them to avoid Mecha-Man or, more likely, track him down while off duty.
His knee was already protesting, primarily the left one, as he got closer to the SDN building. Rounding a corner, he removed the brace and dismantled the cane so he could throw them in his bag. Sure, it was sometimes a pain to reassemble, but he’d gotten a bit better at it the few times he had done so. He had also brought his gym bag, a duffle that had enough room for him to toss three parts of a cane into and appear inconspicuous. Now all he had to do was walk the half mile or so into the building and make it to his seat without making an idiot of himself.
He rounded the corner and almost ran into Herman who immediately reared back, looking startled.
“S-sorry, you- I mean- didn’t mean to-to bump into you. Or-um,” he trailed off looking over Robert’s shoulder before returning his attention to the man in front of him.
The unspoken question was almost visible on his face, a polite smile doing most of the work.
“Whatever you saw, I’m hoping you keep to yourself,” he spoke evenly, watching as Beef excitedly begged for attention from the newcomer.
“Of c-course! Nothing- I saw nothing!” Herman smiled, just barely preventing a puddle from appearing at his feet from his nerves.
“Right,” Robert sighed, hyper-aware of the man’s inability to choose between hovering and backing off.
“So, how have your meetings with Phenomaman been going?” He asked instead, making the other perk up in surprise.
Robert noted that he only stuttered every few words now and came out much more coherently than he would have some months ago. He was close to being a year on the team, having watched them all grow in their own ways. He was glad to see Waterboy forging his own path, even with the abrasiveness of the others.
The question seemed to distract Herman enough as to where they made it to the entrance to his floor before the super broke away, stating he had to check on something before their shifts started. It was still fifteen minutes before Robert’s own, but he shrugged it off and tried his best to leisurely walk over to his cubicle. He kept himself from sighing in relief when he finally got to sit, his back flaring up at the contact. You win some, you lose some, he thought to himself as he booted up his computer, watching the Z-team gradually come online.
The first half of the shift was going surprisingly well despite the influx of calls with the bad weather. At some point, it had started raining heavily on and off for a few hours. Sure, the area needed it, but it would have been better on his migraine to not hear the constant complaints from eight people at the same time.
“Clear the Line. You guys can handle a little rain,” even to his own ears, it came out a bit more abrasive than usual.
Who knew those old people complaining about the weather making their joints ache was true. Maybe it was a placebo effect, or mass hysteria, but he wouldn’t dismiss the headache as a contributing factor.
“Who shoved another stick up your ass this morning?” Visi spoke up, disturbing the two seconds of silence. He’d call that a new record.
“More like who shoved the first one up there. You need to get out more, Roberto. You keep flaking on us,” Prism said, despite sounding annoyed, concern edged her tone.
“Maybe he wanted a quiet evening or two. Can’t blame the guy,” Punch-Up added, Robert noting he should give him some easier calls as a subtle thanks.
“Quiet evening my ass, he’s been looking shittier than usual for like two weeks,” Malevola replied.
“Why thank you, I’m glad you noticed,” Robert quipped back with a sigh. He sometimes forgot how perceptive the lot was at times, especially how his loose thread Waterboy was most likely two steps from spilling what he had or had not seen.
“How about we shift gears from my shitty looks to the eight car pile up on the main freeway,” he added, already sending the details out.
“Bobert, your looks aren’t that shitty. There’s always someone out there who’d think otherwise,” Victor spoke up with a mocking tone, earning a few barely contained snickers from the crew.
“Yeah, I can think of someone,” Visi provided, earning louder laughter from a few.
“Again, eight car pile up. Going to get worse soon.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re on it,” Visi dismissed, already at the scene alongside Prism and Malevola.
Flambae remained uncharacteristically quiet, detached from the conversation. With the weather, Robert tried not to send him out on more high-risk tasks. Despite not necessarily needing to rely on his abilities for easier calls, he didn’t want to make the guy attempt to fly across town just to get caught in another bout of heavy rain.
“Did the weather shove a stick up your ass too, or did you start that meditation shit you were talking about?” Prism piped up some time later, everyone well aware as to who she was referring to.
“I wish, this weather is quite literally killing me,” Flambae grumbled, not elaborating which point he was referring to as he finished up a call Robert had made sure was more so indoors than out.
“At least you didn’t have to go near the docks, bitch, it’s ten times worse over here,” Prism complained, already quickly retreating from her location.
“I think it's nice,” Golem spoke up, having been standing outside for about ten minutes now while on break.
“Of course you would,” Coop added, sounding unimpressed.
More arguing picked up as Robert attempted to block it out, trying his best to ignore the throbbing of his head and knee. Any shifting to alleviate it just causing his back to flare up.
He was just debating if he should risk getting up to get a cup of coffee when a mug appeared at his side, nearly startling him as he removed his headset to turn his seat.
Flambae stood, arms crossed as he seemed to assess the barely contained grimace on Robert’s face.
“You look shittier than usual,” he commented, squinting with an unimpressed look.
“It seems that everyone’s noticing today,” Robert stated dryly, suddenly more interested in the steaming mug at his side now. The coffee maker in the breakroom had been making it a habit of spewing out what could barely count as lukewarm as of recently, figuring it must have been a strike of good luck.
He let the mug warm up his fingers, trying his best to ease his expression into less of a grimace.
“Thanks,” he replied more genuinely, taking a sip and hoping it would deter Flambae from pressing for more info.
Despite acting like a complete dickhead, Robert had learned to read between the lines a bit. His version of caring was being more abrasive than usual, evident in how he was with the rest of the Z-team and seeming to return that energy. Flambae’s look turned scrutinizing as Robert seemed to evade whatever unspoken test he was failing, muttering to himself for a moment before continuing.
“Whatever, just remember to take your break. I don’t want to hear you being a bitch for the rest of shift,” he replied instead, walking off towards the breakroom.
Robert instead, closed his eyes for a few moments, sighing again as he let the mug’s heat warm his fingers, an odd tingling having formed in his wrists.
“You’re making me feel old just watching you,” a voice piped up, Robert opening his eyes to be greeted by the sight of Chase looking down at him.
“Ditto,” he said, placing the mug down after taking another swig.
“You bring your shit like I told you to, or am I going to have to get someone else involved,” he threatened, his itinerary of options only making it worse.
“Yes, you can hold off the cavalry,” he rolled his eyes, only tightening the other man’s expression.
“Whatever, I’m not carrying your ass home if you have a problem,” he dismissed, placing a pill tab down next to him as he walked away.
Picking it up, he realized it was, in fact, the good shit. The type of pain medication you only get in prescribed dosages. He would know as he had a few collecting dust in his own cabinets from when he first had gotten out of the hospital. He was also, well aware, that it would tear a hole in his stomach if taken without food. Robert resigned himself to his fate, opting to pocket the offering anyway. Just in case, he told himself as he mentally prepared himself for the rest of the day.
The last stretch felt longer than usual with failures trickling throughout the day as the team grew weary with the ongoing weather. Robert just hoped it would let up soon if he was going to walk home. He hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella and was unsure how that would work with a crutch in one hand, and beef’s leash in the other. He was trying his best to work off all the extra food and treats he knew Chase was sneaking him.
After finishing up a few more forms, he mentally prepared himself for what came next. He braced himself heavily against the desk and forced himself to stand, gritting back any sound as his knee and back flared up again with a vengeance for being ignored for so long. Taking a few steadying breaths, he noted how at least there were no witnesses, the office eerily quiet. With that he looked around, noting that Beef was in fact missing. Before panicking, he checked his phone, a message an hour ago from Chase notifying him he had kidnapped the furball. Despite the guilt of relief flooding him, he was glad someone else was helping look after him. Even if that someone overfed him.
He took a cautious step forward, quietly cursing to himself as his bad knee flared up, bracing himself on the cubical barrier for a moment. Just a hallway away to get to his bag he had put in the locker room, no big deal.
The lights burned his eyes as he leaned on the wall for support, silently praying no one would suddenly appear on the other side of the hall and witness him looking like a drunkard. A shuffle turned into almost a limp as he moved against the pain via sheer will power, vision getting a bit hazy at the edges.
Which of course led him to almost running into Chad headfirst as he rounded the corner to the locker rooms, almost falling backwards but catching himself. On his bad leg. He stumbled as it buckled, sending a shooting pain up his hamstring. He braced himself for the inevitable fall before a warm hand caught him, holding him by the arm before righting him again.
“Shit, I thought you were over the whole jumpy thing,” Chad spoke, obviously taking in Robert’s attempt to cover up his discomfort.
He was unsure if he was grateful for Chad’s remaining hold or not as it was forcing him to put majority of his weight on the other leg to compensate.
“I..guess not,” he attempted to dismiss, unsure if he wanted to look the man in the eyes just yet.
“You were looking for this?” He asked, lifting his other hand to reveal a familiar duffel bag.
He shook it slightly, hearing the parts of his crutch rattle around loudly.
“Herman?” Robert grimaced, unable to shift his expression away from a frown.
“I don’t need Wetfartboy to tell me things. I have eyes. And ears, you were being more of a bitch than usual,” Chad grumbled, accusing as he studied the man in front of him, frown in place.
“It’s not what you think,” he let out a tired sigh, resisting the urge to drag a hand over his face.
“Oh yeah? Then what is it supposed to be?”
Chad lifted an unimpressed brow, looking down at him.
He was met with silence which told him enough.
Chad’s hold released, turning around to switch hands as he placed a bracing arm beneath Robert’s.
“You’re not getting to that bench without falling on your ass,” he asserted.
“I’m completely fine, there’s no need to baby me,” Robert added a bit more defensively than intended, having half a mind to push him away.
To make his point, he attempted to move away and enter the room, leaving the support of the wall and Chad’s arm.
Robert made it two steps in before he had to stop, suddenly out of breath and two seconds close to falling over as his vision tunneled slightly.
He must’ve swayed a bit, as the room snapped back to the right, those warm hands again holding him upright.
“Yeah, think again,” Chad leaned down, hooking an arm beneath his own and nearly picking him up as he helped him over to the bench.
He then gently guided him down to sit, crouching down to meet him at eye level in his slumped state, trying not to throw up from the jolt going up his spine.
“This is pathetic, even for you,” Chad spoke, making a pang of shame and anger pit in his stomach.
“Shit, not this,” he gestured to Robert, realizing something on his face must have given him away.
“This,” Chad poked at his forehead, making Robert grimace further.
“You think you’re tough shit for doing this? Pushing yourself like this?” He added, anger in his voice.
“I don’t need you passing out on the job, or somewhere in the street where we’ll have to scrape your sorry, flat ass off of.”
Robert could almost hear something akin to concern in his voice.
“You got it?” Chad added, suddenly serious and awaiting his response.
He heavily sighed, stubbornly looking away and gritting his teeth hard enough to make his jaw ache.
“Seriously though, did you get fucking jumped or some shit? Chase was being even more of a massive bitch than usual when you were on break,” Chad continued, undeterred by his lack of response.
“Something like that,” Robert replied instead, unwilling to tell the truth right now.
The silence stretched on until it became uncomfortable, aware of Chad’s scrutinizing look.
“Whatever, bitch. Don’t let me catch you like this again,” Chad moved to stand, hesitating for a moment before moving Robert’s bag closer to his feet.
He then turned and left, half surprising the other man as he watched his back disappear around the corner. Silently hoping the team had broken the habit of following him home, he rummaged around in his bag. The brace felt more constraining than helpful, but he told himself it would have to do. He took twice the amount of time than usual to do so, reassembling the crutch as he delayed the inevitable.
He let out a harsh breath through gritted teeth again as he forced himself to stand, now with the support of the cane. Robert mentally cursed the thing and his predicament, as though it was the inanimate objects fault for his failings. Gingerly picking up the bag, he began to hobble out the door, praying he wouldn’t run into anyone else.
The air had been cold from the previous rain, a chilled breeze making its way into his apartment for the time being. Robert Robertson the third practically collapsed on his couch face first, groaning as it sent a shock down his spine at the impact. Forcing himself onto his side, he tried to steady his breathing, exhausted but still in pain. He mentally debated for an hour or two how bad of an idea it would be to take those pain meds on an empty stomach before giving up on the idea entirely. Before attempting to go to sleep, he undid his knee brace and chucked it across the room, watching it hit the wall. Only feeling slightly better, he laid back down again, eventually falling into a fitful rest.
The next morning was no better, awaking an hour before his alarm with his head spinning. He forced himself to take deep, steadying breaths, trying to force the sensation down as the pain seemed to increase tenfold.
‘You will get up and stand like you’re supposed to,’ he told himself, as every muscle protested at the action of sitting up.
He nearly forgot that Beef had stayed the night with Chase, so he didn’t need to worry about feeding him, and redirecting his attention to other things that needed to get done.
Some questionable dated leftovers were forced down purely so that he could take some of the pain killers he had obtained. Sure, it felt like giving up, but he’d reasoned it was just for the morning and he wouldn’t have to take them later. Brace and crutch acquired, he headed out.
This time, he took a slightly different route, intending to stop further out to bag his mobility aids as to lessen the chance of getting caught again. He shouldn’t have been surprised then, as someone else had managed to find him.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Courtney appeared, frowning down at Robert as he tossed his crutch into his bag with a heavy sigh.
“What hasn’t?” He replied tiredly, forcing himself to straighten up again despite the protest of every muscle in his body.
“Kinky,” she commented instead, falling into step at his side as they approached the office.
Robert could feel those concerned looks being shot his way, opting to ignore them for as long as possible. He knew the silence wouldn’t last forever.
“Why do you take your shit off two blocks from the building anyway? Won’t that, like, make the healing process or whatever take longer?” She asked, attempting to come off as casual but landing on accusing.
Apparently, the crew was stuck on the ‘getting jumped’ theory. Robert wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than the reality of his situation.
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” he answered instead, deflecting and hoping his limp wasn’t too obvious this time around with the pain medication only slightly mitigating the ache.
“Isn’t Chase up your ass about this? I’d be surprised if he wasn’t,” she continued, Robert identifying the passive threat as it was.
“He already is, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add fuel to the fire. Believe me, I’ve already gotten an earful and some,” he replied, glancing over to Courtney to watch her expression become conflicted.
“No promises,” Courtney finally settled on, heading towards what he assumed to be the way towards Mandy’s office. He could only hope she wouldn’t call the cavalry on him via Blonde Blazer, no matter how immature that felt. Her disappointed look and polite smile was close enough to pity than he felt like dealing with today.
Majority of the shift was a blur as Robert forced himself to focus on the tasks at hand. Chad had stopped by to give him another cup of coffee and a nicer than necessary Tupperware container with food better than anything he had had in a while. It had lightened his mood, offering a genuine thanks to the man and nearly protesting when Chad had stolen the empty container back before he could offer to clean it.
“Your break’s almost over anyway. You’ll probably forget to clean it and I’ll have to deal with your mess,” was the provided excuse as he walked quickly away with a scowl.
Robert had half a mind to go after him, deciding against it as he had felt the pain medication begin to wear off. He took another tablet against what he had told himself earlier. Taking the recommended dosage made him drowsy, and he needed to be as alert as possible for the second half of his shift.
The end of another day, he politely declined the team’s invitation to go out again. His pain had returned with a vengeance, causing him to feel nauseous alongside the migraine that had formed a few hours ago.
“You’re coming out with us next weekend. And you’re not getting out of it this time,” Alice asserted, earning sounds of agreement across the other lines.
“De-stressing is a vital part of ensuring a healthy lifestyle,” Katon provided, having started to get along better with the rest of the team as the others piped up in agreement again.
“You heard the man, we’ll just have to kidnap you after work or something,” Colm said, much to the displeasure of Robert.
“He’s changed his route home. Twice,” Janelle unhelpfully provided, only further proving his earlier hopes of not being followed wrong.
“Damn, trying to throw us off, Lieutenant Dan, or do you have some secret boy toy you don’t want us to find out about?” Courtney further fanned the flames, Alice cackling loudly over the comms.
“Again, recorded line,” Robert sighed, his disdain making the team laugh and talk over each other.
“Deflection! You might be onto something there. You know, when I went to Harvard, I had to take a psych class and they said that-“ Victor started before getting cut off abruptly.
“Cutting you off there. We really don’t need you to remind us every 5 minutes,” Malevola sighed, sounding a bit more fond than genuinely irritated.
“Hey! It was relevant!” He retorted, Robert practically able to hear the eye rolling that evoked.
“Yeah, sure,” Malevola chuckled.
“Hot Stuff, you don’t got any input on this?” Alice spoke up, Robert realizing the unusual silence of the man again.
“If the bitch doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t have to go. I don’t see the big deal. Probably bring down the mood anyway with his sad, flat ass,” Chad provided, although having had to take longer than usual to answer.
“Okay, rude,” Robert’s comment went ignored.
“You’re just defending him because you’re flaking too, bitch,” Alice added with a slightly irritated tone, fondness seeping through.
“And you’re just jealous I have a hot piece of ass tonight and you don’t,” Chad replied casually, oddly making Robert’s stomach drop.
“You sure about that?” Skepticism in her voice, eyebrow raise audible.
“Eh, maybe his face does most of the work,” Chad shrugged.
“Ignoring that, good work team. And have fun tonight, you guys have earned it,” Robert decided to cut in just so he wouldn’t have to hear any more details about Chad’s supposed date.
“Does that mean drinks will be on you next time?” He heard Victor ask before Robert turned off his mic, disconnecting from the computer.
He watched all of the members one by one sign off, Chad’s lingering for a moment long enough for him to notice he had re-entered the office.
Figuring he must have left something behind, Robert began his new routine as of recently: trying not to pass out or throw up when he stood for the first time in four hours. He had attempted to get up and stretch during breaks to lessen the strain later, but the manifestation at the end of the work day was inevitable.
Pain medication mostly worn off, he pulled at the desk to stand just for both legs to buckle and fall back into his seat with a plop. Shit, he was turning into Chase. He breathed a humorless laugh, staving off the wave of panic that he could feel rearing its ugly head. Stay calm, try again.
As if sensing his distress, Beef appeared beside him, looking up with a smile before tilting his head as if able to read the situation.
“Hey, bud, just give me a sec, and we can be out of here,” Robert reassured him, more so for himself.
He attempted to stand again, this time successful as he forced his body to cooperate. He grabbed his bag from the locker room, getting ready to leave as he heavily leaned into the crutch, trying to put the least amount of weight on his bad leg.
The last time he could remember being this bad was right after his coma. He felt as if he had somehow misstepped and done something to make things worse, even if he could blame the weather. It wasn’t like he was physically unable to walk. He had all the facilities. It just hurt consistently enough to impede the ability. Temporary, he reminded himself as if repeating it would make it true.
Robert was nearly halfway home, half aware of the sensation of being followed. With that he tried his best to pick up the pace, aware a fight was probably not the best idea right now. Because of this, he ended up heavily leaning against an alley wall to catch his breath, Beef looking up at him with a whine.
A familiar warmth appeared beside him, realizing he hadn’t needed to worry in the first place.
“Do you take turns following me home? Because you guys already know where I live, so I don’t see the purpose,” he let out a sigh, decompressing slightly.
“Do not put me on the same level as Coop,” Chad crossed his arms, scrutinizing Robert again.
“I thought you had a date tonight?” He tried to sound casual and not bitter.
It didn’t seem to matter as recognition flashed in the amber eyes, a smug look crossing his features.
“You jealous, Bob-Bob?” Chad teased, head tilting to better study his expression.
“I feel like we’ve had this discussion before,” Robert instead threw back, an echo of the other man’s unconvincing words.
“I lied. If I told Alice the truth, I wouldn’t fucking hear the end of it,” Chad grumbled, good mood evaporated.
“That you’ve picked up stalking me instead of Coop?” Robert interjected, making him roll his eyes.
“I picked up making sure you don’t keel over and die in the street like a pathetic bitch, Mecha-dick,” he threw back, bristling, but holding little heat.
“Overkill, but okay,” he finally righted his position, suddenly self aware that Chad had been watching him this whole time, shame crawling under his skin.
“I don’t need a babysitter, really” he settled on, brushing past the walking furnace to exit the alley and head towards his apartment just a few blocks down, Beef following in range of sight.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Chad huffed instead, dutifully following him.
Oddly enough, this became habit for the rest of the week, Chad dropping off his coffee around break with maybe some food, then accompanying him on his walk back home.
One particular night, it had finally happened. Robert had finally gotten stuck in his damn chair. He hissed out a restrained, shaky sigh, hand pressing into his eyes as he tried his best to take a few steadying breaths.
‘Breath, do not cry in the office, that will be humiliating.’
Saying that didn’t prevent the mortification from settling in, eyes burning from the sheer effort.
“Hey, bitch. I’ve been waiting outside for like twenty minutes. You finally die in here or something?” Relief and abject horror flooded his veins as Chad approached his cubicle, the light from the hallway outlining a dark silhouette and making it difficult to see his expression.
The light must have shown onto his face at just the right angle despite having turned away as his demeanor shifted.
“Fuck, I was joking, what happened?” The uncharacteristic concern only making Robert feel worse, forcing him to swallow the lump that had formed in this throat.
“Just, need a sec is all,” he managed out, voice strained, dragging a hand over his face.
Chad silently lessened the distance between them, now kneeling in front of him. He could hear him place something down, slowly reaching out for his bad leg. Without objecting, he felt warm hands gently wrap around his leg after guiding his foot to rest on his thigh. A shaky sigh escaped him at the contact, feeling him clasp his knee like a warm band.
“You’ve had like a million seconds already,” Chad shot back, the comment lacking any heat as he shifted his attention up, taking in the barely contained grimace on Robert’s face.
He rummaged in his own bag, pulling out his phone and beginning to type. It was the only light besides the hallway, harshly illuminating his features. Robert distantly realized the man truly had no bad angles, much to his chagrin.
A few minutes later, a portal opened up with Malevola stepping out. She greeted Chad first before redirecting her attention to the man stuck in his chair.
“You alright, babes? Actually, scratch that, I’ll just look instead,” she stepped forward, Robert unable to find the energy to protest as she gently placed a hand on his head.
“Oof, why didn’t you just call out? We can handle Chase for a few days you know,” Malevola casually reassured him. Some of the pain began to ebb away, only slightly lessening the strain.
“You know the drill, don’t want to drain you of more than you have,” she pulled away then, using her sword to open another portal.
“If he pukes, it’s not my fault,” Malevola added, looking at Chad now.
“Whatever, I’m sure he’ll be fine. Right, Bob-Bob?” Chad smiled a bit more encouragingly, leaning forward and offering an arm.
“Up. I’d say take the chair, but then you’d have to figure out how to get it back,” he waited expectantly.
Steeling himself with a deep breath, Robert allowed himself to reach forward and take Chad’s arm. He was unsurprised by how warm it was. He managed to casually lift Robert’s weight, leaning back just enough to guide him upright. Chad then moved to the opposite of his bad leg, arm beneath Robert’s as he unintentionally shifted his weight onto him again.
“You really don’t have to-“ he was cut off before he could finish
“I bench press four times your weight, bitch. It will take a lot more to phase me,” Chad managed to sound insulted, lacking its usual tone as he remained beside him.
They took the few steps into Mal’s portal, feeling disoriented for a moment before finding himself in his apartment. He was then guided over to the couch, using Chad as a crutch. Warm hands assisted him to sit, still closely studying him. After a few moments, Malevola peered through the portal, catching Chad’s attention.
“Catch!” She grinned, tossing a bag into his awaiting hands.
“Vic is stuck on trying to catch an uber driver. So he keeps ordering food, to try and catch them” she sighed, a familiar voice complaining behind her.
“I owe Alice so much money,” she grimaced, looking displeased for a moment before leaving. The portal closed, leaving another charred mark on the wall.
The frown was mirrored onto Chad’s face, glaring at the spot for a moment. He clearly knew or at least had an idea as to what she had been referring to.
“Exactly how many betting pools are there right now that I don’t know about?,” Robert broke Chad out of his thoughts, watching him return his attention.
“More than you think,” he replied with a grin, moving away now.
Robert hadn’t realized the chill in his apartment before the walking furnace had pulled away, resisting the urge to shiver. He had half a mind to pull Chad back and keep him there, as he watched him cross the room to the bag Malevola had left behind. It was takeout from the Thai restaurant a few blocks down from the SDN building.
“So he is capable of eating normal food,” Chad grumbled as he began to load the items into the microwave, leaning against the kitchen island to face Robert.
“And yet he chooses to only eat it while off the clock,” he chuckled, making Chad scoff in return.
“Breakroom smelled like shit for weeks after he blew up that rat. Should get him his own shitty microwave to use,” he replied, finding the microwave the most interesting thing in the apartment now.
“Our luck he either wouldn’t clean it ever, or take it as an invitation to bring more rats to work,” he finally leaned back into the couch cushions, suppressing a wince as the muscles in his lower back stiffened painfully.
A hum of acknowledgment echoed from the kitchen as Chad fetched the food, plating it for the both of them.
After eating, Robert realized he felt marginally better. He was unfortunately becoming spoiled with the amount of food he was being given on the daily. The sentiment made him suddenly understand the way Beef felt. Robert mentally noted that he should at least buy the group drinks again to make up for all the help they’ve been giving him. A jab of guilt followed the thought, becoming aware of the whole situation.
“Look, I appreciate you looking out for me, but you don’t have to put off going out with the team just to babysit me. I promise, I won’t get jumped. Again,” Robert reassured him, realizing a moment too late that he might have misspoken.
“So you did get jumped. And you showed up to work still? That’s not right, man,” Chad suddenly looked disappointed, a righteous anger flaring but not directed at the Dispatcher.
“I didn’t-look,” he sighed, sagging slightly as he tried to gather the words amongst his headache returning.
He must’ve been quiet for too long as something light hit his chest before falling into his lap.
Chad was closer to him now, refusing to sit next down, apparently, and stand instead. Probably some sort of power move, Robert reasoned as he picked up the tab of pills only to pause, as he found it unopened. He flipped it over, realizing that these were his and not Chase’s, Chad had rummaged around the kitchen and found them.
“Should I even ask?” He looked up to meet his eyes, watching Chad’s brows furrow.
In lieu of an answer, he popped one of the tabs, taking the pill dry partially just to gross the other man out. It worked, watching Chad’s face screw up in a grimace.
“What’s the ‘K’ stand for?” He asked, offering him an out. The large label on his medication had abbreviated part of his name, Robert unsurprised Chad had checked it.
He almost wanted to sigh in relief, but knew the previous subject would be brought up sooner or later.
“Would you believe me if I said ‘Kobert’?” He cracked a grin, watching him scowl.
“Fuck off, I almost want to believe you,” Chad leaned against the side of the couch now, looking down at him.
“Wait, are you serious,” he squinted at him, sceptical.
“No, dick head, it’s not ‘Kobert’,” he chuckled as Chad’s expression further soured.
“I’d believe it, already have a dumbass name as it is,” he shifted his weight as he leaned, adamant on standing.
Robert went to lift his leg up as carefully as possible in order to remove his shoes. His hands were quickly slapped away as Chad rounded the couch and knelt down, beginning to untie them instead. The man only hummed in acknowledgment, placing them one by one on the other side of the couch.
“Up,” he ordered after sitting down next to him, gently swatting Robert’s upper thigh with the back of his hand.
Letting out a huff, he obliged, slowly lifting his legs up and onto the couch, being helped half way to readjust them onto Chad’s lap. The warmth from the contact alone had him holding back a sigh of relief, unaware of just how tense his legs had been. Chad continued his ministrations from earlier, clasping his knee firmly for a few moments before slowly massaging it.
“Tell me if it gets too hot,” he spoke in a hushed tone, focused on the task at hand.
Time lost meaning as the tension in his body lessened for the time being, turning into a distant ache as Chad worked over what had been plaguing him for the past two weeks. He swallowed, guilt palpable again as he remembered what he had mentioned earlier.
It was already difficult to admit getting hurt out in the field, but it typically meant he would bounce back, a temporary consequence. But this wasn’t the result of a fist fight. Or maybe it was, he wouldn’t be surprised if those made it worse. Despite what he told himself, this was permanent. Sure, how his body responded and its functionality varied with time and factors, but the pain remained. It resided even when he was feeling up for running a marathon, not that he ever would. It was present in his sleep, in the mech, at work, hell, even around the people he begrudgingly and grudgingly cared about. It was a presence only he could sense, isolating at times due to its persistent need to remind him of every misstep and failure he had caused. He had survived them, but their memories remained.
Taking a steadying breath and already missing the warmth that would most likely pull away, he gathered his thoughts, feeling a bit sluggish.
“I didn’t get jumped,” Robert started simply, swallowing the lump in his throat as he stared at the spot on the wall now.
The motions stopped, squeezing his leg in a reassuring way that he didn’t deserve.
“The first time the suit had blown up, my back and right side had taken the brunt of the fall. I don’t remember much, but I do remember hearing words like ‘amputate’ and ‘extensive surgery’ to fix whatever had been fucked up,” he paused, taking another steadying breath that sounded more tired than anything.
“Sometimes, depending on, well, everything, those…injuries make themselves known. I could be doing fine one day, and then the next, it’s…” he trails off, a humorless laugh escapes him.
“Chase had been getting on me to actually take advantage of having health insurance now, hence, the shit in my bag,” dragging a hand over his face, he finally risks a glance over to Chad who seems to be watching him closely.
“Then why don’t you use them? What’s the point of going through the trouble of getting them just to toss them aside a few blocks up the street?” He chided, warm hands leaving his knee.
Okay, ouch, someone did snitch on him.
“Look, I already get enough shit from practically everyone about how ‘fragile’ I am since I have no powers. I don’t need any more pity thrown my way walking in with those,” he gestured to the bag accusingly, frustration rising to the surface, more so aimed at himself. He stubbornly avoided Chad’s intense glare, feeling the warmth flare beneath his calf.
“You might be a normie, but you’ve thrown yourself into shit half of the team would never go into. Sure, we’re physically stronger than you, but that doesn’t mean we think less of you just because you’ve broken a few more bones than us,” he threw back, oddly insightful rather than mocking as Robert had been expecting.
“I was fucked up after losing two of my fingers, didn’t know if I could bounce back. You broke like half of your body, and you’re still out there doing hero shit,” he added, a stab of guilt twisting in his gut as his eyes immediately shot towards Chad’s right hand, averting his gaze with an unbidden expression.
“I’m…sorry for that,” Robert’s throat tight, still processing the man’s words.
“Good. You know how hard it was to learn to jerk off with my left hand?” voice feigning a serious tone.
A startled laugh escaped Robert, covering his grin as he finally lifted his gaze to him, a soft smile aimed back at him.
“Oh, so you think this is funny, bitch? I’m right handed!” Chad exaggerated a scowl before it melted into a grin, lightly shaking Robert by his legs.
“No, no, I don’t think it’s funny in the slightest,” he tried to suppress a laugh, suddenly serious and offering a nod of agreement.
“Yeah, real convincing. I should burn your only piece of furniture in this shit hole to make up for that,” Chad scoffed, a playful lilt to his voice that Robert found he had missed.
“That was your master plan? Wait until you could get into my apartment just to take my couch away?” Robert couldn’t help the fond smile from spreading on his face, tilting his head in question.
“You’re thinking too small. I was going to take your chair too,” he shrugged, hands returning to Robert’s leg again, absentmindedly rubbing soft circles above his knee.
He shook his head, light headed now from the emotional whiplash that this night was becoming. Exhaustion pulled at his bones, mentally forcing himself to be awake, especially in the presence of company.
The warmth left his side just to jolt back as Chad flicked his forehead, eyes snapping open. Damn, he must’ve drifted off.
He was about to mutter an apology before watching Chad pull away, a small smile alighting his features.
“Call out if you can’t make it in tomorrow. We can deal with the old man,” he suggested, heading towards the sliding glass door.
“Pretty sure he’s only a couple years older than you,” Robert jabbed with a grin, already fighting off the urge to rest his eyes.
“Fuck off. I mean it,” Chad threw back, a sharp smile shot his way before he turned on his heel, leaving off the balcony.
At least tomorrow was Friday, Robert mused to himself, well aware he wouldn’t be able to escape a night out with the team this time around.