Chapter Text
There is nothing more painful than regret.
A word unsaid. An opportunity missed. Stars moving to collide and missing by a hair.
A warm hand comes to pat his head. Robert has come to expect it, not even surprised when Flambae ruffles his hair with a grin. "Hey, Bob-Bob, looking for a spot?"
He wasn't really looking to bench, he mostly just used the treadmill and punching bag this time, but he could keep going. He nods at Flambae. "Yeah, thanks."
Robert adjusts the weight plates before positioning himself on the bench, making sure to press his shoulder blades together like Flambae had instructed him before. He focuses on breathing, the heat emanating from Flambae's body beginning to make him sweat. It isn't long before his arms start to burn in that familiar, satisfying way.
"That's it, Bobbo. You can do a few more."
Robert pushes himself like he always does, exhaling and inhaling in through the nose, out through the mouth. When his arms begin to tremble, Flambae is there to hold him steady, gently moving the barbell back onto the bracket hook.
"Way to go, you beat your personal best." Flambae's grin is rather proud, his eyes dancing like a flame.
Now utterly spent, Robert returns his grin, pleased with the morning's workout. "Nice."
Flambae ruffles his hair again, ignoring the sweat—it seems to have become their thing—and whistles as he heads to the showers. Robert takes a few gulps from his water bottle before following, taking a cool shower and changing into his usual SDN uniform to begin the day.
Stopping on the dispatch floor, he greets Mandy, then Chase, who still has the amulet so he's Star Blazer right now, petting Beef's little head as he passes by his bed to set his backpack down at his desk. Mr. Whiskey stops by to hand him a mug of coffee, and this time Robert learns to give it a sniff beforehand, smelling that yes indeed, there is whiskey in there. He shrugs and takes a sip, feeling it burn all the way down.
Maybe it isn't needed for a regular day like today, and definitely way too early for alcohol, but he appreciates the gesture and feels the need to finish the mug.
He puts on the headset, turning on the ancient computer and clearing his throat. "Morning team."
"Morning." Comes Coupé's voice first, soft and smooth.
"Morning!" Malevola and Sonar both sound much too chirpy for how early it is.
"T-Top of the morn—"
"Don't even try it."
Robert cracks a smile at Waterboy and Punch-Up.
Soon enough they're all clocking in, greeting Robert good morning and chatting amongst themselves. For a moment Robert basks in the voices of his team, feeling his heart swell with affection. It's been months since everything happened with Shroud, and Torrance, while still picking up some broken pieces, feels more like home than it ever did. He's gotten used to being with everyone, not alone for once, and there's a warmth that blooms in his chest that he never thought possible only a year prior. The itch in his chest that whispers, you're Mecha Man, it'll end when you die in the suit, has never been quieter, thankfully. It feels like...he doesn't need to do that anymore. That sitting here dispatching and listening to the voices of people who are like family is all he ever needs.
Robert exhales, straightening his back. "Alright team, let's get started."
Things have been going rather slow lately, and the Z-Team has been so on top of things that any new gang or criminal that pops up gets dealt with immediately. Pride swells in Robert's chest, knowing how well his team is doing. Every one of them is out to prove that they belong as heroes, so that no one ever doubts them again.
With their chattering constantly in his ear, the day goes by rather quickly despite the menial calls.
"Good work, team." Robert says, leaning back against his chair and stretching. "I'll see you all tomorrow."
"Wait, Boberto! We're all going to a new bar tonight, wanna join?" Sonar asks, and a chorus of agreements erupts.
"Yeah, come hang out with us!" Prism says with glee. "There's a karaoke station and everything."
"Sure." Robert glances down at Beef sleeping by his feet. "Text me the location, I'm going to drop Beef off at home and meet you guys there."
"That'll take you forever." Flambae grunts. "I can just fly you."
"I can too!" Sonar offers.
"You're not in your Megabat form, dumbass." Flambae scoffs. "I can do it, meet ya'll there."
They all say goodbye and Robert turns the thing off, standing and picking Beef up. The sleepy boy only sniffs in acknowledgement before his tongue falls out the side and he continues snoring in Robert's arms. Robert smiles, giving his fur baby a kiss on the snoot before heading down to the lobby.
Flambae is already there waiting, the man meeting his eyes and nodding his head towards the doorway. "Alright, Bob-Bob. Let's go."
"Careful with your fire." Robert eyes the man carefully, readjusting Beef in his arms. "I only have one SDN shirt."
"Gross." Flambae scrunches up his nose, giving him an up down. "I hope you wash it."
"Occasionally." Robert jokes, allowing himself to be lifted by Flambae who ignites only his bottom half, shooting up in the air. The air so high up is crisp and cool, cutting against his cheek but the warmth from Flambae makes it bearable.
"Not a fan of flying?" Flambae asks, sounding rather amused.
"I fly in the mech suit." Robert points out. "But it does feel...different." He tries not to imagine Flambae dropping him. He's never been a big fan of that stomach plunging feeling of free-falling.
Flambae chuckles, and being so close to him means he feels every vibration, a different type of warmth blooming in his chest. "Flying is great, Bob-Bob. Maybe I'll fly you more often."
"...Maybe not." Robert isn't sure if he can get used to this feeling of flying so...naked. No mech to protect him, just exposed to the elements.
"You'll come to like it." Flambae promises, as if he's promising he will be flying Robert around from now on.
They land on his balcony, and Robert lets Beef in, making sure he has both food and water to sustain himself before Robert gets home. He gives the little furball another kiss on the head, cooing at him sweetly. Flambae asks if he can borrow his bathroom to change into civilian clothes, disappearing and reappearing in a burnt orange button down shirt, sleeves rolled up, nearly half of the buttons unbuttoned to show off his chest. More than that, his hair is down, falling over his shoulders like a cascading waterfall. Robert can barely stop himself from staring dumbly. Flambae nods at him, "Ready?"
"Y-Yeah." Suddenly Robert's throat is dry. Flambae comes to pick Robert up again with no effort at all, and sets off towards the new bar.
The place is a much more classy hero bar compared to Crypto Night. The street around it is well-lit, the sign flashing in pretty bold letters. They spot their group immediately in the corner, already starting a drinking competition. Flambae gives Robert a gentle nudge and he chuckles, heading over to join their friends.
"Ayyy they made it!" Prism is already tipsy, and Malevola hands them both a beer bottle with her hand and tail.
"Is his apartment still as sad as last time?" Visi asks, appearing in between them, linking her arms with theirs, a cheeky grin on her face.
"Absolutely." Flambae nods solemnly, flashing Robert a look of feigned pity. "Total serial killer lair vibes."
"Oof. You gotta take down your crazy string board, man."
"I'm planning my next murder." Robert humors her, taking a sip from his bottle. "I'm deciding between you and Flambae."
"Kill him, he puts up more of a fight." She juts her thumb out at the man who scoffs, crossing his arms. She nudges him with her elbow, grinning slyly. "Roberto here loves a challenge."
Robert raises a brow at her and she only giggles before disappearing, reappearing next to Waterboy who is unfortunately being dragged into a card game. Robert turns to look at Flambae, not really knowing what kind of expression he's expecting, but Flambae doesn't glance at him as he sits down beside Prism, already locked into conversation.
Robert shrugs and sits down next to Visi, focusing on the card game between Sonar, Malevola, Phenomaman and Waterboy. The latter two are losing quite spectacularly, and Visi is whispering in Waterboy's ear to help him cheat. Robert looks around the room, finding Coupé and Punch-Up playing darts with a few heroes he seems to recognize from past gigs, Golem watching them quite intently with interest.
"So, loverboy." Visi turns to wrap an arm around his shoulders, lowering her voice into a playful whisper. "How's it going, hm?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Robert rolls his eyes as he takes another long sip. He struggles not to glance at the flaming man sitting across from him, still chatting loudly with Alice.
"You can't lie to me." Courtney says, resting her head against his shoulder. "I'm everywhere."
"Stalking me, huh?" Robert chuckles. "Thought you were past that."
"Hey, I'm on your side here." She protests. "I'll be your wingwoman."
Robert hums, letting himself relax next to her. Despite things not working out between them, and they mutually agreed to stay friends, he still feels most comfortable with her. They match each other's energy perfectly, an invaluable platonic soulmate.
"He's staring." She whispers, and Robert instantly tenses. Her hand shoots out to hold his face, preventing him from turning to acknowledge the hot gaze against his skin. "See? I'm a great wingwoman."
From the other side, it looks like they might be kissing. Flambae stands abruptly, snarling out, "Robert."
Courtney finally lets go of Robert's face so he can turn to look at Flambae, the man glowering down at him with a scowl. "Buy me a drink, bitch."
"Why me?" Robert says automatically, earning a sharp kick against his shin. He yelps, looking at Courtney in disbelief and she gives him a look, as if she can't believe how dense he is. "Okay, um, fine. Sure."
He stands, following Flambae to the bar and they both sit, waiting for the bartender. Flambae has a frown on his face, his fingers drumming against the countertop.
"What do you want to drink?"
"Sex on the beach."
Robert pauses, brain stuttering.
"What? I'm in the mood for something fruity."
Robert nods, heart hammering because he has no idea if it means anything. Which is stupid, it's a fucking drink, of course it doesn't mean anything. He finally catches the bartender's attention, and orders a Sex on the Beach and a whiskey on ice.
"So," Robert leans against the countertop, turning to look at Flambae. "What was that?"
"What was what?" Flambae raises a brow at him, tilting his head and Robert can't help but stare at the way his hair falls off his shoulder, curling at the ends, exposing the other side of his neck.
Holy shit, Robert suddenly feels very warm.
"Um, just now." Robert tries to act nonchalant. "With Courtney."
Flambae scowls, taking his drink as the bartender passes it to him, and takes a long sip. "What, did I cut your make out sesh short, bitch?"
"We weren't making out." Robert quickly says. "She was just telling me something."
"Right, with her hand on your face and heads literally glued together." Flambae huffs, staring into his glass.
"Are you jealous?" Robert blurts, a flutter in his chest.
Flambae scoffs, his voice maybe a pitch too high. "Me? Jealous? Don't be delusional. As if anyone would be jealous over you."
"Right, because I'm not your type." Robert nods, watching him closely with a smile as he sips from his own glass.
"Yes, yes, exactly."
"But you're my type." Robert might be slightly tipsy. He leans forward, batting his eyelashes at Flambae and watches in fascination as the man's pupils dilate, a deep flush gracing his cheeks. Robert blows out, "You're exactly my type."
If he leans in just a tiny bit more, their lips would touch. Which is why Robert pauses, deliberately, before pulling away completely and taking another swig of his whiskey, letting it burn down his throat.
"Fuck." Flambae mutters, hands clenching around his cocktail and Robert is half-worried he'll shatter the glass. "Fuck you, Bobert."
"You can try." Robert laughs.
Flambae glares, smoke billowing from his nostrils and Robert finds that strangely endearing. Wow, he's fucking whipped. He honestly wouldn't mind if Flambae took him home tonight.
But Flambae shakes his head, his hair following the motion. "Not like this, Bob-Bob."
Robert tilts his head at the man, confused. Flambae is grinning again, leaning towards him and blowing hotly into his ear, earning a delicious shiver. "If I fuck you, I want you absolutely sober so you remember it."
Robert nearly moans, feeling the man so close, smelling his musk, it's doing unspeakable things to him. His head is swimming and he stretches his neck, begging for Flambae to press his searing lips on his skin. He craves the touch, hungry for it.
But the fucking tease pulls away, chuckling into his drink as he stands and leaves, moving back to the booth with their friends.
Robert has never felt this fucking blue-balled in his entire life. He never had a high libido to begin with, but something about Flambae makes him crazy with want. He sighs, staring up at the ceiling to calm his raging pulse for a moment before standing to follow.
Robert is nothing if not patient.
Flambae meets his eye when he slides back into the booth, the man flashing him another cheeky smile as his tongue darts out to lick the rim of his glass. Robert follows the motion, forcing a nonchalant expression as he slowly goes to unbutton the top few buttons of his SDN shirt, just enough to expose a little of his chest. Flambae's eyes go dark, taking in the sight hungrily. Robert smiles, leaning against the table.
Two can play that game.
"God fucking dammit!" Alice points at them accusingly. "Stop fucking flirting, you horndogs!"
"Yeah, save it for later!" Courtney cackles.
Things go rapidly downhill the next day.
Robert barely even sits down before Mandy jogs up to him, her face pale with worry.
"It's an emergency." She tells him, explaining rapidly.
A titan rises above Torrance. Some fucker decided it would be fun to mess with black magic, and gave life to a giant, giant hunk of metal, a creature so big it towers over Torrance, taking chunks out of buildings to add to itself, ever-growing. It's not sentient in the way Golem is, its only goal seems to be destruction.
This is an all-hands-on-deck type of emergency. Every hero SDN has available is immediately dispatched to try and fend off the creature, even heroes from neighboring cities are asked to assist. Others are scouring the area, looking for the magic caster.
They find him after three hours, dragging him out from the shitty apartment he's been hiding in, demanding him undo the magic. But the guy can't be older than his early twenties, shaking in his boots. Just some guy who had an affinity for magic and decided to fuck around.
Great, fucking great. The guy doesn't know how to undo the magic, and any hero who knows anything about magic is immediately called to try and find a spell to undo it.
Things aren't looking good.
The Z-Team are throwing everything they've got at it. Prism's light just bounces off its metallic body, and it became too risky that her powers might ricochet at some poor bystander. Waterboy's water does nothing but make the metal sparkle, Sonar and Punch-Up don't even make a dent. Coupé and especially Invisigal aren't able to do anything at all. Golem, Malevola and Phenomaman are able to dent and fuck it up a bit, especially when Phenomaman uses his super-strength and Malevola with her sword, but even that is barely doing anything. Mecha Man joins the fight, although his suit and the titan's are pretty well-matched. His rockets and explosives does little to injure the metal shell beyond dents. No other superhero is able to damage it enough to deter it, the metal is either repelling all attacks or it just tanks it.
There's one super hero that actually seems to be doing something.
Flambae.
He shoots a concentrated blast of fire at the titan, the metal melting under the intense heat and chunks of it falls to the ground with a teeth-shattering thud. Flambae is an incredible powerhouse, his whole body engulfed in fire as he zips about the creature, trying to aim his blasts at the joints to sever its limbs.
Everyone is exhausted, frustrated at how helpless they feel. They can only watch as Flambae holds the titan back all by himself, trying to make it as small as he possibly can. If he can make it small enough, other superheroes will be able to pull the metal apart and hopefully render it incapacitated.
But there's no way Flambae can keep this up forever. Robert keeps track of him with his suit's trackers, analyzing the state of his health. Flambae is definitely growing tired, and there are moments when the titan catches him off-guard, slamming him into the ground with a metallic limb. He goes crashing into the asphalt, smoke billowing from his body.
"Flambae!" Mecha Man roars, flying to him in an instant. He opens the hatch, scrambling out to reach for Flambae.
"Don't!" Flambae barks, his tone sharp and making Robert flinch. "I'm too hot right now. You'll burn yourself."
"It's okay." Robert murmurs, but Flambae is shaking his head, hair coming loose from his ponytail.
"I'm fine." The flaming man insists, sitting up and taking a breath, his chest heaving from exertion. There's sweat caked on his forehead, which he would usually just evaporate. "I can keep going."
"Give it a minute." Robert orders, kneeling next to Flambae, keeping a close eye on the man to make sure he doesn't shoot off again.
"This isn't working." Blonde Blazer lands beside them, having retrieved her amulet from Chase so she can join the fight. She didn't want Chase over-exerting himself, even with the amulet. "We need to find its weakness, anything."
"Weakness, yeah." Robert mutters. He gets back into his suit, leaving the hatch open so they can watch as he types away at his keyboard, triple-analyzing the titan in search for a weak point. He pulls up any information he has on magical constructs, anything he can remember learning from Golem.
"Okay." Robert breathes out. "Okay, I have an idea."
Blonde Blazer floats beside him so she can see what he's pointing at. He zooms in on a screen capture of the creature. "It's core, if we blow it up from the core, it should end."
"We can't get through the exterior." Blonde Blazer frowns. "How are we going to do that?"
"Fuck." Flambae pushes himself onto his feet, wobbling just the slightest bit before he catches himself, straightening.
There's a cold pit settling in the bottom of Robert's stomach.
"Flambae, you rest here." He says, voice stern. "I'll do it. I have explosives."
"No, Robert." Blond Blazer says, placing a hand over his. "Your suit isn't strong enough to get through it. I can't have you blowing up with it, nor can you blow it up in the middle of Torrance."
"I can lead it away." Mecha Man says. "Lead it towards the ocean. If it explodes on the beach, it should be far enough that the damage is minimal."
"Fuck you." Flambae spits out, eyes glowing bright white. "I'm the one who's going to do it. Your shitty suit is weak as fuck."
"No, Flambae!" Mecha Man all but screams, already closing the hatch in preparation to take off. "I can do it. This suit is durable."
"Robert." Flambae ignites only his lower half, coming to float in front of the mech suit. His expression smooths into something much more gentle. "It'll be okay." Flambae's tone drops, soothing. "Your plan is going to work. I'll take the explosive and make a hole into it. I'll lead it towards the ocean, and it'll explode. I'll be on my way back before you know it. Just trust me."
Robert's hands are shaking against the control sticks. His mind is reeling, a thousand thoughts flashing before his eyes. He calculates the possibilities, coming up with every possible outcome.
There's a high chance it'll go wrong, but Flambae is capable. His powers are the best they have against the giant hunk of metal. Robert knows his suit can't do much against it.
It has to be Flambae.
With a shaky exhale, he opens the hatch again, lowering himself from the mech suit and Flambae follows, landing beside him. He holds out a bomb and a remote, placing them in Flambae's searing hands. "Okay, I trust you."
Flambae nods, taking the explosive and turning to leave.
"Flambae." Robert grips his arm tight, eyes darting about the familiar, warm features. A face he wants to sear into his mind.
Flambae looks at him, smiles, eyes crinkling in the corners. "Don't worry, Bob-Bob. I have something to tell you after this."
Robert swallows hard, hands trembling, a surge of fear overwhelming him. He has so much he wants to say. Don't go. Instead, he grins back, letting go. "Alright. Burn good."
Flambae gives him a curt nod, then he envelopes himself in his fire, and shoots off into the horizon. A burning star.
I should've told him not to go.
Things seemed to be going according to plan. Flambae shoots a stream of fire at the titan again, irritating the creature and coaxing it to follow. He zooms across the city, heading towards the beach. The Z-Team follows closely behind, trailing them.
Flambae is a blur of light, zipping about the titan and making sure it's still focused solely on him. Once he's close enough to the beach, he lands on top of the creature, hands warming up as hot as it can go to melt into the metal, creating a hole. He places the bomb inside of it, and prepares to take off to put distance between them.
It all seemed to be working. It was fine.
Until the titan knocks Flambae down with a giant swing, and he plummets the same way Robert's heart does. He can hear gasps from his teammates from around him, the blood roaring in his ears.
He still has time.
Get up, Flambae.
He sees Flambae hit the sand, scrambling to get up but the titan seems to have accepted its end, determined to bring him down with it. The whole hunk of metal collapses onto Flambae, trapping him underneath.
And then...
Everything came colliding.
An explosion rattles through Torrance, the force of it catapulting into every superhero and structure in the vicinity. A supersonic wave that knocks the air out of Robert even though he's supposedly safe in his suit. He can't imagine how his team members feel. They all go flying, crashing into the ground.
Robert might've lost consciousness for a second, his head hitting something inside the suit, but he blinks awake and immediately scrambles out of the mech, racing towards the debris that used to be the titan. At least it seemed to have worked, and the titan is motionless.
There're sighs of relief from around him, from people who don't know Flambae. Every member of the Z-Team are holding their breaths. The air is eerily still.
Robert can only hear the pounding of his own heart and the gasps of breath he forces into his lungs. He starts digging through the debris, ignoring the cuts the metal shards give him. His hands are all bloody, and yet he pushes on, determined with every fiber of his being to find Flambae.
Robert couldn't have known. He should've known. It wasn't his fault. He could've prevented it.
He's crying.
He doesn't realize until he's irritated by how blurry his vision is. He blinks rapidly, hands not stopping for even a second. Soon enough, the Z-Team joins him, those with super-strength lifting large chunks of debris away. Other superheroes start to do the same, everyone looking for Flambae.
Finally, finally someone screams, yelling that they've found him.
Robert can't stand up fast enough, his knees buckling and bloody, his hands even more so. His face is tear-stained, his mask completely wet but it doesn't matter. They found him. They found him!
He rushes to the person who found him, as others begin to dig him out. The lay him on the beach, paramedics approaching to administer first aid. His body is still smoking, as Robert drops to his knees beside Flambae, ignoring the searing pain when he touches the man.
"Flambae." Robert's tongue feels like lead, numb, his voice sounding faraway as if it's not from him. "Flambae, Flambae, wake up."
A paramedic is searching for a pulse, a breath. Robert is clutching Flambae's burning hand as tightly as he can, but the blood makes his grip slippery.
The paramedic freezes, looking much more urgent than before, if possible. A team of them gather, giving Flambae CPR, throwing out terms that Robert doesn't understand.
They try to restart his heart.
Nothing.
Robert's blood freezes.
Eventually, they stop. One of them glances at the watch on her wrist. "Dead on arrival. Time of death, 6:23PM."
This is not happening.
Blood pounds in Robert's ears.
This is a dream.
He watches as they place Flambae on a gurney, covering his body with a cloth.
Please, no! Robert shoots up, holding the gurney and stopping them. He's sobbing, choking, begging. "No, no. There must be a mistake, he's still alive!" He wraps his arms around Flambae's rapidly cooling body, shaking. He still smells like him—smoke, spices, musk, along with the unmistakable stench of metal shavings and blood.
"I'm sorry." One of the paramedics tries to pry his hands off the gurney gently. "I'm so sorry."
"No—"
"Robert." It's Blonde Blazer, resting a hand on his shoulder.
Robert crumples as they roll Flambae away. Blonde Blazer wraps her arms around him, rubbing soothing circles against his back as he curses and wails, her own eyes wet with tears. The Z-Team slowly joins in on the hug, each of them sobbing, and it feels like it'll never end.
It's an out of body experience.
He hasn't had to wear a suit like this in sixteen years. He feels nothing when he stares at the coffin, feels nothing when Courtney grabs his bandaged hand, giving it a squeeze, her eyes uncharacteristically misty. He feels nothing when he watches Alice fall to her knees, sobbing so hard her whole body shakes, Malevola trying to comfort her with soft words.
All he feels is numb, numb, numb.
And despite the clear evidence—his body is right there—Robert still has this certain feeling in his stomach that Flambae will saunter in at any moment, grinning, laughing at their stricken faces. He'll say it's just a giant prank, and of course a real hero like him wouldn't die.
He's not dead, he can't be.
Flambae said he had something to tell him after everything. How could he do this? How could he abandon Robert like this?
A flash of white hot anger surges through him, and he clenches his hands, nails digging into his palm and reopening wounds. He wants to punch something, anything. He wants to scream until his throat is raw. He wants...he just wants Flambae.
He so desperately just wants to sink into his warmth. To gaze into his lovely golden eyes, bright like the sun. His sun. To hear his laugh, to run his hands through his soft, curly hair.
There are so many things he hasn't said yet. So many emotions that no longer have an outlet.
Robert doesn't realize he's swaying until Courtney screams. He hits the ground and everything goes black.
When he wakes, Chase is by his bedside, patting his hand gently. His dark eyes soften, the wrinkles on his face lightening up. "Hey kid."
"Unc." Robert whispers, voice hoarse.
"I'm here." He pats Robert's hand again, and his hand is warm but not warm enough.
Robert swallows and it hits him all at once, a typhoon of emotions he didn't know he was repressing. He crumples, sobbing pathetically, and Chase pulls him into a hug. "Unc...H-He's gone, he can't be gone. I—I—" He can't catch his breath, it feels like his lungs are collapsing in on themselves. "What do I do without him? I can't...I can't do it. I can't live without him."
"Robert," Chase's gruff voice is also filled with emotion, "You have to. He gave his life for us, you can't let it go to waste."
Right, that's right. Flambae saved them. All of them. Robert outlived everything, but he spent every waking moment expecting he would ultimately die in the suit. It was right. He would've given his life without question to save Torrance, the same way Flambae did.
"It hurts," Robert gasps out, clawing at his chest. "It fucking hurts." More than when he lost his dad, more than when he thought Chase was a goner, this hurts so much more. Somehow he always thought Flambae was his one constant, the one thing that would never leave him.
"Shh...I know, kid. I know."
He doesn't know how long he cried for. He kept going in and out of consciousness, and each time a different person would be there, comforting him. He would've been touched, if not for that gaping hole in his chest, his soul feeling like it was pried open and left to rot.
"Robert." He remembers Courtney being there for a bit, her voice soft and pained. "Please, don't kill yourself over this. We...we can't lose you too."
He remembers nodding, just nodding. He can see it in her eyes that she doesn't believe him, not reassured in the slightest, but she ultimately stands to leave, holding her breath and disappearing.
Robert spends all night staring at the ceiling, recounting every detail he can remember about Flambae. Suddenly there's a great fear of him forgetting Flambae's face, forgetting his eyes, forgetting his lovely accent. He can't remember his mom's face anymore, and his dad is nothing more than a blur now, too.
He can't let that happen to Flambae.
He keeps replaying that night at the bar. The teasing, the lingering gazes. He wishes he did go home with Flambae that night, so he could feel, just once, how it feels to mold himself against the man's blazing body, to feel connected with him in a way he never has before.
He wishes he could've told him I love you, I love you, I love you.
But it's all too fucking late now. It's over, he's gone, gone forever.
And tears begin to slip down Robert's cheeks again, even though he's utterly exhausted and didn't know he even had tears left to cry.
He's crying even when he's not. His soul weeps and weeps, a constant pain even when he smooths his expression. When he has the clear to go back to work. When he's chatting with his members, trying to look as normal as he can so they don't worry. They're all grieving. It doesn't feel the same, nothing feels the same.
Every time Robert rounds the corner in the office, he expects Flambae to be there. And every time he's not, Robert feels another wave of grief, of disappointment, of sorrow. An emptiness that lingers, chipping away at Robert's body chunk by chunk.
There are nights when he really considers it. Really thinks about drawing the bath and sinking in, not getting out. He thinks about throwing himself off the balcony. He thinks about driving somewhere far away, and letting go of the steering wheel.
He thinks about it, too much to be normal.
And he knows, knows he shouldn't. He can't. He replays Chase's words in his mind constantly, a mantra, a reminder that he can't let Flambae's sacrifice go to waste.
He lives, each painful breath at a time, wishing with each waking moment that he was dead.
He throws himself into work, into Mecha Man, into cleaning up the city.
He starts drinking, way too much. At first with the Z-Team, just overindulging a bit, not enough to be noticeable. Then he starts getting so drunk he blacks out, something he never did before. The Z-Team starts getting worried, coaxing him out of his drinks and shoving water at him instead.
So he stops going with them. He goes by himself, every night, a new bar, new faces, all alone.
He must've been blabbering in his drunken state, because an unfamiliar hand comes to squeeze his shoulder, whispering. "My condolences. I know how hard it is."
"Mmhm." Robert slurs, wobbling and leaning heavily against the stranger. "I loved him. I fuckin—I fucking loved him." He starts crying again, the only thing left he can do. "Fuck, why'd he have to go—go be a hero? Why'd he leave me?" Robert sniffles into the man's neck, a corner of his mind whispering a warning, scolding himself for being so pathetic.
The stranger is rubbing his back soothingly, nodding along. He stills, then says quietly, "...What if I told you I can fix it?"
"Huh?" Robert can't really focus on the man's words. He feels nauseous.
"My power." The man whispers, making sure Robert is the only one who can hear him. "I control time." He pulls open his jacket, revealing a vintage-looking stopwatch clipped to his shirt.
Suddenly Robert is sober.
He sits up straight, all but grabbing the man by the shoulders, eyes wild and crazed. "You can turn back time? Are you serious?"
"I'm serious." The man says, but puts a finger to his lips, indicating for Robert to lower his voice. "But...it's not fool-proof. Manipulating time comes with a cost, always."
"Anything." Robert says immediately. "I'll give anything. Please, please." He's trembling, a budding feeling of hope poking through his bleeding heart for the first time in what feels like forever.
"Okay," the stranger breathes out. "Okay. I'll help you, Robert."