Chapter Text
“Dammit!” Zach roared furiously as he stormed into his airship, whisking through the storage unit like a vengeful phantom, leaving behind a trail of muck and water droplets.
The Kratts crew has humiliated him once again. He vividly remembered falling ass-first into that disgusting pond, filled with algae and probably fish piss. He remembered everyone laughing at him, as if his suffering was just some cruel joke for them to jeer at. He remembered all the cameras turning to him, catching his downfall on national fucking TV.
He didn’t even deserve it! It wasn’t like he was using any endangered animals this time. It was just a Border Collie. A dog. There were millions of dogs out there! And besides, the inventors convention didn’t say anything about animals, so he was totally in the clear. Aviva just had to show up with her damn Wild Rats crew and ruin his entire life.
“I knew it was a dumb idea to have the convention outdoors,” Zach grumbled to himself, peeling off his sopping wet jacket. Great. Now the leather was ruined. That jacket was hand tailored for him! And now, it was destroyed. He let out a loud cry of frustration, throwing the jacket onto the floor. It landed with a wet squelch, and that seemed to piss Zach off even more. He could practically feel steam rising from his ears.
He needed a shower. Badly. He could feel his turtleneck cling to his skin, the dirt and muck staining his beautiful black hair, which had been perfectly gelled, up until those damn Wild Rats ruined everything! AGAIN!
“Can’t I just have one day where things go my way?” He whined as Zachbots scurried around him to ready the ship. It lifted into the air slowly before eventually soaring through the open skies back towards one of Zach’s many hangars he installed all across the States.
The one he landed at was stationed in Michigan. Not too far from home. Massachusetts was only about a two hour flight away.
Even so, Zach didn’t want to spend any more time in his itchy, soaked-through clothing. So, without another word, Zach quickly headed inside down the winding halls of the hangar before reaching the barracks portion, already pulling off his turtleneck as he entered the bathroom and kicked the door closed behind him.
Steam fogged up the mirror as he ran the hot water. The scalding spray splashed across his bare back as he stepped into the shower and closed the curtain behind him. It felt nice. He didn’t realize how cold he was before. The hot water heated his pale skin back to a more normal temperature.
Zach sighed contently, tilting his head back and soaking his hair. He stayed like that for a few minutes, closing his eyes tightly. He frowned, the corners of his mouth wrinkling, making him look a few years older than he really was.
Finally, after ten minutes of just standing there under the hot spray of water, he began to wash his hair, the shampoo and conditioner two-in-one sudsing in his jet black hair.
It took him longer than usual, but he eventually stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.
As he was combing back his hair, he took a few moments to look at himself in the mirror.
Even for someone as narcissistic and stubborn as himself, he had to admit, he was a mess.
His cheekbones were more defined and the bags under his eyes could be mistaken for bruises. Insomnia had been kicking his ass lately, and he hadn’t been eating very often, too caught up in his inventions to remember that his body needed nutrients.
He frowned again, defining the wrinkles on his face — around the corners of his mouth and eyes, long lines on his forehead, between his eyebrows from how much he furrowed them…
God, he was only twenty-five, and he looked like he was in his mid thirties.
With an overly exaggerated sigh, he sulked into the walk-in closet stemming off from the bathroom. Inside, he let the towel drop before dressing in his usual attire — dark blueish-gray slacks, a tight black turtleneck, tall black socks, and black dress shoes.
Zach’s fresh and pristine dress shoes clicked on the pavement as he headed back outside of the hangar. Zachbots mulled about, cleaning the Varmijet and fueling it for the trip back to Massachusetts.
“Good, good,” Zach muttered to himself, his emerald eyes flitting across the tarmac, watching his Zachbots organize the crates from his airship into neat stacks in the hangar. Good. He liked things tidy.
One Zachbot floated over to him, making a few beeps and clicks. Zach understood and gave a curt nod before moving for the Varmijet. The dark red and black exterior shimmered softly in the setting sun. It made Zach’s eyes soften briefly before he snapped out of the sudden trance and hardened his expression again, stalking into the jet.
The fly back was remarkably uneventful. The only thing interesting was the sunset, but once the sun dipped below the horizon, the rare shimmer in Zach’s usually dead eyes dimmed down again.
“How much longer?” He grumbled, finally breaking the unbearable silence that had only been filled by the humming of the jet engine. A Zachbot responded with a few mechanical beeps, and that only seemed to worsen Zach’s already sour mood. “An hour? Ugh, you’ve got to be kidding…”
He turned in his floating chair, facing the flatscreen TV mounted on one of the walls in the cockpit, switching it on with a press of a button on the remote.
And that was a mistake.
The TV turned on to a news channel. A reporter was interviewing a woman with brown hair, dark skin, beautiful brown eyes… Aviva. The name left a bittersweet tang on Zach’s tongue. More bitter than sweet, since they were still talking about that damn incident.
‘I get that it was a national convention, but holy shit. It’s been three hours since it happened!’ Zach thought harshly, his grip tightening on the remote, so hard the plastic creaked in protest, ‘can’t they lay off embarrassing me for ONE day?’
Zach tuned out Aviva’s words, too lost in his own head to even think about listening to her.
He didn’t realize how long he had been zoned out for until one of his Zachbots tapped his shoulder with its metal claw. They had landed. Zach looked back at the TV. The news had changed to a different subject, thank God.
“Finally,” Zach grumbled, turning off the TV with more force than necessary before tossing the remote carelessly over his shoulder, sulking out of his jet. The Zachbot scrambled to catch the remote before it hit the floor, but Zach paid no mind to it.
Varmitech Industries was a lonely place. It wasn’t isolated by any means. In fact, it was right in the middle of Boston, surrounded by other buildings and people. But inside? Dark, dreary, plenty of space with no one but Zach to fill it. He never wanted to admit it, but he hated the loneliness. Sure, people were annoying most of the time, but he didn’t mind the company of an actual living, breathing human like himself and not some robot that had no mind of its own.
“I need a damn drink,” Zach muttered to himself, slumping down at his desk chair before snapping his slender fingers. A Zachbot flew over after a few seconds. “Go get me some bourbon. Buffalo Trace.”
As the Zachbot whisked away to get the liquor, Zach leaned forward, pulling out a sheet of blueprints and a pen. With one hand tangled in his hair, absentmindedly scratching his scalp, he began to scribble and jot down ideas for a new possible invention. One that wouldn’t fail this time. He’d make sure of it.
The Zachbot returned with the bourbon and two glasses, one empty, the other with ice cubes. Zach grunted and waved off the robot. It set the items down on his desk before disappearing out of his study again.
“Hmm,” Zach hummed, leaning back in his chair and chewing the end of his pen, his thoughts racing with ideas. He glanced at the clock. 12:37 A.M..
Great.
Zach knew he needed sleep. He hadn’t gotten a full eight hours in nearly a week. Only fitful naps here and there.
With a huff, he opened one of the drawers of his desk, pulling out a nearly empty bottle of melatonin. He had only gotten it two weeks ago, and there were only five pills left.
He poured himself a glass of bourbon in the glass with no ice cubes, taking two of the five remaining pills and downing them with a swig of the burning amber liquid. He got back to work shortly after. The melatonin did nothing, as always.
After he finished his glass, he finally decided to get ready for the night. Maybe after he brushed his teeth and changed into something more comfortable would he finally feel drowsy.
It didn’t do anything either.
Zach stared up at the tall dark ceiling, his hands folded over his stomach as he lay on his king-sized bed. Alone.
‘Maybe it just takes time,’ Zach’s thoughts broke the unbearable silence. ‘I’m sure I’ll fall asleep within the next thirty minutes… I’m sure…’
He didn’t bother to put his sleeping mask on. He knew he wouldn’t be needing it tonight.