Chapter Text
Robert exhaled into the cold night air, staring unfocused at the black sky where only a couple of lonely stars were visible due to the city smog. The smoke got in his vision for a moment, before the soft wind moved it away.
He hadn't smoked this much in years, his usual monthly pack now finished in one night. As he brought the cigarette back to his lips, he winced, accidentally touching the still fresh cut on his lip.
After the disaster of those 3AM tacos he went straight back to his apartment, and since he arrived he's been out on his balcony, smoking through an entire pack of cigarettes while staring off into nothing.
His mind felt almost blank, his body a collection of aches, even in places he didn't know could hurt a certain way.
Why did Flambae just… leave? It wasn't what he expected, yes the anger was there but there were unexpected tears. The hurt in the man's voice kept haunting him hours after it had happened.
Robert had expected anger, violence, rage, a fist colliding with his jaw, a knee to the stomach, not the voice of a man filled with betrayal.
He could handle violence and anger, but not whatever that was.
He checked his phone as he finished the last cigarette, ignoring the texts he had gotten from who knows who. It was 5:42, he didn't even get an hour of sleep and he felt like he couldn't, sleeping felt like a foreign concept at the moment.
He stepped inside and walked to his bathroom, he squinted at his reflection in the mirror, he looked worse than he thought.
Robert sighed and slowly took off his clothes, wincing a couple of times because certain movements caused the aches to grow.
He showered, careful of the bruises covering his body as he washed himself, he got lost in his thoughts again, only realizing he had stayed too long when he felt the water turn cold against his skin.
The coldness felt wrong on his body, his skin craved warmth despite how ice would actually help with the bruising. It craved a specific warmth, the earlier hot water of the shower didn't feel like enough.
He shook his head, trying to get those thoughts out of it and turned the water off. He stepped out and went in front of the mirror again.
He could still see a faint circular bruise under his left ear, his hand slowly moved up to touch it, his finger slowly applying more pressure to it until the soft ache came back.
He bit his lip. Stop thinking about your mistakes Robert.
•••
He bought two packs of cigarettes before going to work, Chase was definitely going to be angry, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.
He needed this, the burn in his throat and lungs, the smokey taste it left on the back of his tongue. It felt too close to someone, but he didn't want to think about it.
Robert got to his desk and put his backpack down, taking the leash off of Beef and he watched as the dog immediately went up to Chase.
“Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened?”
He blankly stared at the older man, “Unfortunate bar fight and then 3AM tacos where i told them the truth.” his voice felt raw and gravely, he definitely needed some water.
“Well you're still alive, fucker, so how did it go with the flaming fuck?”
He felt something twist inside him, like a snake slowly wrapping itself around its prey, he was the prey.
He clenched his jaw unconsciously and let his gaze wander around the office, looking for an escape.
“I'm alive so fine, I guess. Do you have a dollar?”
“I'm not your fucking bank, you little shit, but here.” Chase pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed him two one dollar bills. “Get yourself some food, you look like you need it.”
Robert grabbed them and scoffed as he walked to the break room. “You think?”
His head was throbbing, he hissed and pinched the bridge of his nose while he stood in front of the vending machine. He put a hand on the cold glass for support, putting a dollar in with the other and grabbing his usual snack.
He wasn't even that hungry, he just needed to keep himself busy while he waited for the first shift of the day to start.
He bent down to grab the Twinkies, biting down on his tongue as he fought off the dizziness from such a simple movement. He probably had a concussion, but he couldn't really care at the moment.
He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, pressing his forehead against the cold glass of the vending machine. The difference in temperature between it and his body made him fight off a slight shiver, and he let out a long sigh.
His mind was blank, numbness slowly taking over as he tried to fight off the pure chaos of memories and feelings, almost slapping himself as he felt a thought crawl in the back of it. His warmth would probably help me relax…
•••
The first shift of the day went as smoothly as it could with one less member on the team. Of course Flambae didn't show up.
Why did he even want him to show up? The man probably wanted him dead, no, he definitely did. Robert had ruined his life, cut his fingers off and sent him to jail. They had sex and he had hid his true identity from him.
He would hate himself too if he were Flambae, well, he already did but that was something else.
Only half a day had passed and he was already at half his pack of cigarettes gone. The burn in his throat and smoke felt too familiar in an unfamiliar way that he didn't want to dwell on at the moment.
•••
Blazer had sent him home early after catching him zoning out at his desk during the second shift, she had basically forced him to go home, especially after seeing all the bruises and noticing the slight grunts of pain as he moved.
“Why do I keep thinking about him, Beef? It was just sex-” It was supposed to be just sex, but somehow that last time it had felt like more. More of what, he wasn't sure.
Robert took another swing of the cheap whiskey bottle he had bought on his way home, the burn in his throat didn't bother him at all anymore. It felt too comforting.
He glanced to the side at his sleeping dog. “God, why am I even telling you these things…” He looked back up at the ceiling, the floor felt cold against his bare back. He felt a constant pain in his upper back, probably a cracked rib, but he didn't want to get up.
He needed to feel this pain, he deserved it. Every bruise, every broken bone, scar, burn, it was a reminder of what he did wrong. It wasn't a redemption, he never saw it that way, just a twisted way of punishing himself.
That's why Robert couldn't stand this deadly silence from Flambae. It was unexpected, not what they both wanted and needed. He would rather take burned skin than being left with his thoughts.
He slowly got up and walked to his balcony, he was at the second pack he had bought that morning now. He took a cigarette from where he had placed it on the ground of his balcony and lit it.
He stared off into his shitty neighborhood, trying to focus only on the smoke traveling in his body, but even that reminded him of Flambae.
He needed more of that soft burn in his mouth, traveling down his throat and into his lungs. He needed it harder, all over his body. Needed it to leave a permanent scar that he could look back on and hate on himself more.
Flambae could only miss two days of work before he would be fired, and he knew that by fired they meant he would go back to jail.
Robert had tried asking Prism, Alice, if she had heard anything from Flambae, but apparently he had been ignoring her messages and calls.
He had felt that uncomfortable knot in his throat again, the same one from seeing the bruised face of Flambae filled with betrayal. Because that's what he did, he betrayed that small, soft line of trust that had somehow formed between them.
What was the point in telling them he was Mecha Man, when he couldn't even be Mecha Man again. Royd had tried his hardest, but it was impossible to replicate the Astral Pulse and the real one was gone.
He should've just kept his mouth shut, said he was simply Robert Robertson, that the past was in the past.
He threw the butt of his finished cigarette out down on the street below his balcony and shivered at the slight cold. He should put a shirt on at least.
•••
The housewarming party had been unexpected and not totally welcomed at first, but when they had informed him of a chance that they could find the Astral Pulse, everything else was forgotten.
Robert drank more, which probably wasn't a great idea but he couldn't care at the moment. He needed this to not think about him.
The party was nice, Invisigal kept getting uncomfortably close to him, dancing with him and touching him, but he was too drunk to truly care.
Then the woman proposed that they go to the supposed current location of the Astral Pulse to retrieve it, they were all mostly drunk.
He wasn't expecting a fight to break out because of this, he couldn't understand the anger Invisigal kept directing at him for not agreeing with her. But of course, it got worse, when she decided to punch Chase for drunkly insulting her.
After that the atmosphere got awkward and slowly everyone left. He was alone with his thoughts again.
He was out on his balcony again, finishing his beer and he wasn't even sure at what number he was when Chase came back knocking on his door. He couldn't even tell how much time had passed.
•••
Yesterday felt like a blur, but those specific moments felt too vivid for his liking. He stared down at the too white floor, the beeping of the machinery felt too loud.
His body was completely still, except for his hand that had been scratching his arm from on top of his shirt. The only way that he was sure that he was breathing was him still being alive.
Alive… At least Chase was still alive, barely but he was still there.
It was all his fault, he could've done something different, reasoned with Invisigal, made her realize the situation and truly think about it.
Robert could've done something different, but he didn't, and now Chase had almost died.
His hands dragged up his face, grabbing his hair tightly and pulling as hard as he could with barely any strength left in his body.
He cried, he couldn't hear himself but he knew he was crying from his stuttered breathing and wet face. All he could hear was that too loud beeping of Chase's heartbeat.
He wasn't sure how long he cried for this time, but after Blonde Blazer's visit and the unexpected anger outburst in the break room from Waterboy, he found himself outside SDN’s main entrance.
Robert took out the pack of cigarettes from his jacket's pocket, but his lighter wasn't there. He checked the other pocket, then the front and back of his pants. Nothing.
“You've got to be kidding me…”
“Need a light, Mecha Bitch?”
His breathing stuttered, just like his heartbeat. He looked up and his numb, brown eyes met ones that looked like soft sunset on the beach.
He couldn't tell what the man was thinking or feeling, his face blank as he stepped closer.
Flambae was probably going to hurt him, and Robert didn't want to fight it, he was tired and the pain would help with waking him up. He needed this. He needed Flambae to be mean, to hurt him, to make him pay for what he did because he deserved it.
He could take it, he's taken worse, right now he just hoped the man wouldn't kill him, he had to look after Chase.
“Just do it already.” Robert mumbled with the cigarette still between his lips as he stared at flames slowly enveloping Flambae's hand. Was he going to punch him like that? A burn on the face would be a bitch.
“Do what?” Flambae looked at him with a raised eyebrow, the flames on his hand moving to a small one of the top of his index finger, raising it to light up his cigarette.
He inhaled the comforting smoke and took the cigarette off his lips, his eyes never leaving the man's hand. “Hurt me already, I know you want to. I deserve it.”
When Flambae didn't answer he looked up at him, his face filled with confusion but also something else he couldn't understand.
“You do, but I heard about Chase so I won't punch you out of respect.”
“Since when do you have respect for others?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, bitch.” Flambae grabbed him tightly by the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer, he looked at the man's teeth grinding against each other, his jaw twitching.
Robert knew he was pushing it, but he didn't care.
“I mean that you're a selfish piece of shit that has no respect for others. You skipped an entire day of work, all because i told you I'm the normie superhero that gave you a reality check about your fucked up life.”
He was on the ground before he felt the pain in his cheek, he could already visualize the nasty bruise that would soon form there. He stared up at Flambae as the man panted, standing on top of him.
Why was he breathing like that, all he did was punch him.
“You need to shut the fuck up, Robert.”
He didn't even have time to think about saying anything and Flambae was gone.
Robert had gotten what he needed, what he deserved. Flambae to be mean to him, to hurt him because that's what they were, so why was he crying again.