Chapter Text
“Do you see it, Robin?” The fathers voice whispered to his daughter, “this is what you’ll inherit, you’ll be Mecha Woman once you come of age.” He gave her a small squeeze as he held her.
The girl looked up at the suit, tall and imposing. She was nearly an ant to the robot before her. The girl, maybe ten now, with her shortly and roughly chopped hair and overalls, looked up at the monster her daddy had been piloting for her whole life. “Woah…”
“Woah is right, bird.”
“Can I look at it, dad?” She asked, crawling out of his arms.
“Of course, bird, mom and I will be just outside with the Brave Bagade, you remember them.” Her father reminded her.
“I remember Chase and… Lenny.” She nodded, trying to remember their names.
“Right, they’ll be here. Elliot too.”
“I don’t like mister Elliot,” she cast her gaze to the stone floor of the work shed, “the thing in his head is scary.”
“I know bird.” Her father sighed, “we- we don’t like it much either.” He pats her head, “don’t worry about Elliot, you just play with the mecha suit. Just don’t touch any of the screens, okay bird?”
“Yes sir!” She beamed. Robin climbed up the ladder to the side and slid into the robot.
Little Robin weaseled behind the seat. She grabbed one of the tools sitting on the floor, a screwdriver, and started to open the panel. She ducked her head down and into the machinery. She pushed the wires out of the way to look at the blocks used to hold the hydraulics. With her trusted screwdriver, she opened the blocks. She traced the piping still wondering how this little pipe of water makes the enter leg of the suit move.
However, a loud zap of electricity snapped through the air. Robin jumped, stumbling back. She heard yelling from outside, assuming it was Elliot, ranting. She slithered out of the compartment; her hand slipped and slammed onto a screen, the whole area lighting up.
“Intruder.” The metal giant rumbled. Robin pushed herself out of the box, only to tumble back and out of the chest panel of the robot.
“Intruder.” The mech suit rang out as his eyes locked in on Robin.
“Dad!” She called out. A flash of light spun around, grabbing robin and cradling her.
“Trackstar identified. Disarming.”
“Robin!” Chase let go to look down at her. “Oh god, your ear.” He touched her left ear, blood dripping down the side of her face. “Does anything hurt?”
“Mh-my shoulder.” She whined. Chase saw how her arm bent in an unnatural way, pulled out of place.
“It’s okay robin, you’re okay.” He continued to hold her until her dad ran inside. Trackstar pulled away. Her father made eye contact with his daughter, tears pricking her eyes and blood trickling down her chin.
“Get up.”
“I shouldn’t be crying.” Robin pouted, “I’m too old to be crying.” She let her head fall back on the seat of the couch, her hands drumming along the carpet as she sat on the floor. Tears slipped down the sides of her cheeks. Mom had gone out of town for business, and dad was out doing hero stuff. Again.
Chase sighed, annoyed. “No, you’re not.” Robin looked over at him. Chase read the newspaper comics absentmindly.
“I’m literally crying like a little bitch.”
“Woah motherfucker, language.” Robin scowled at him. “And-” Chase sighed, “You aren't a bitch for cryin’, you’re a girl.” Robin promptly chucked a pillow at his face, nailing him square in the nose. “Hey, I mean it.” He tossed the pillow back at Robin. Chase stood, padding closer to Robin. “I cried too when the raiders left LA-”
“Cause that’s totally the same as my fuckin’ dad never being around.” Robin grumbled under her breath.
“Let me finish my damn story.” He smacked the back of her head, “I had seasonal tickets with my dad. Seats were shit but i just liked hanging out with him.” He fell onto the couch, “So yeah, I cried like a little bitch when they left.”
“So, I am crying like a bitch.”
“Christ girl.” Chase pushed himself up; he walked to the door. “Whatever kid, I’ve got a hundred to break. What do you want from the store?”
“Dad pays you to hang out with me?” Robin crawled on top of the couch, hanging over the back to look at Chase.
“To babysit yo cryin’ ass? Oh yeah.” He slipped on his shoes “C’mon, what do you want? I can’t wait all day.”
“Can you... get me a twinkie?” She smiled innocently.
“Hey, just for you, I’ll getcha two.” He chuckled.
“Don’t they come with two?”
“No shit.” He opened the front door, “Keep up.” and with a flash of light, Chase was gone. Robin huffed, seeing he had knocked over the hat stand and a potted plant. She hopped over the couch to push the plant back up. Robin set the hat stand upright as the same flash of light pulled her back. The mixture of light blue socks, smooth polished wood floors, and a speedster going illegally fast caused her to slip and fall flat on her face. She let out a grunt, then got hit in the face with a pair of twinkies slapping her in the face.
“There.” He flaunted the package of twinkies he stole, “Now you can be sad a whole eight more times before bothering me again.
“Ass.”
“Oh, come on, get up.”
The mission wasn’t supposed to go this way.
Get up.
She was supposed to get Shroud, kill him.
Get up.
“I can’t-” feel my leg. Everything- “hurts...”
Get up.
How did this happen? She got the goon, she was there. What went wrong?
Get up.
She tried to push the chest open, her arms trembling. The metal moaned against the pressure, but it wasn’t enough. “Help-” me, please... She looked down, nothing but ash, oil, and blood could be seen in the dim lighting, not even her legs.
Get up.
Tears welled up in her eyes, “Chase...” she begged, “Mom-momma-” Robin let out a wheezing cough, I'm sorry-”-Dad-”
Get up.