Work Text:
“Get up.”
Robert’s eyes snap open.
He expects to see the worn down ceiling of his apartment, but instead he’s greeted with almost blinding white walls. He blinks for a second as he hears the quiet beeping of a heart monitor and realises he’s in a hospital room. Robert moves to get up, ignoring how every part of his body is protesting the movement.
He doesn’t get far before a hand is on his chest pushing him back down. “Slow your ass down.” He lets himself fall back into the bed after a second of struggling against it and realising that the hand will not budge. “You have bruises on every inch of your damn body, where the hell are you trying to go?”
It takes him a few seconds more to realise that the voice belongs to Chase, meaning he might actually be in a hospital room instead of the SDN med bay. He groans as he lifts a hand up to block the light out and instead ends up pulling on the lines connected to him. “How long was I out?” He sounds rough and his mouth is so dry it makes him cough.
Chase hands him a small cup of water, then after a second of Robert struggling to grab it he helps him drink as he answers. “Only a day, you scared the fuck out of us dropping like that. Why the hell didn’t you say you were hurt?”
He cranes his head to look at Chase, he’s sitting on a chair near the bed, leg bouncing nonstop as he stares at Robert waiting for him to answer. Robert thinks back to yesterday, or the day before, to the final battle with Shroud. He didn’t realise he was that badly hurt, the scrapes and bruises he felt were normal to him, part of the job, and they felt good after so long away from the field. “I didn’t feel it.” He answers truthfully.
“Bullshit.” Chase stands up, he looms over him and suddenly Robert feels like a child again, his father standing– looming– in front of him, blood pouring from his ear, his shoulder at a weird angle. Get up. Then he blinks, and he’s back in the hospital room again. “The doctors said it’s a fucking miracle you didn’t rupture anything! Then you go and fucking drop unconscious–!”
“That’s enough, Chase, let him breathe.” He didn’t even notice the door open or Mandy stepping inside. Chase deflates. “I’m glad to see you awake, Robert.”
“Yeah. Glad it’s not another four months.” He eyes Chase for a second and then takes his chances with sitting up, this time no one tries to stop him. He grunts when the worst of his injuries on his stomach that he got from the Sardine pull slightly. “When do I get to leave?”
Mandy purses her lips, glancing at Chase and then back to Robert. “Um, the earliest you can leave is probably tomorrow but… Robert, you're still suspended from SDN, you should take longer to heal.”
He almost goes to argue before he remembers why he’s suspended. He killed Shroud. Let the man shroud his vision until he was only seeing red. Robert remembers killing him almost vividly. Remembers how Elliot begged for forgiveness, how his pulse got weaker under his hands. He remembers being disgusted under all that rage, at the man who had the gall to beg for forgiveness after killing his father and trying to kill him with the same gun and all he could do is grab his neck and squeeze until the rage left his body. He felt powerful for a second, finally stopping the man that terrorised him for most of his life. He felt unstoppable.
Robert turns to the side and throws up. Chase and Mandy’s shock falls on deaf ears.
Robert signs the release form the next day against medical advice and without telling anyone. Pulling the hood up on the hoodie Chase got him as he left and tried his hardest to make it to his apartment without getting spotted. Beef is still with Chase so he doesn’t have to worry about him just yet.
He has to worry about what he’s going to do in the time he’s suspended. He hopes the Z team aren’t giving whatever poor soul got stuck dealing with them a hard time, it’s unlikely but it’s not like he can take over from home either. Robert drags a hang down his face and pulls out the key to his apartment. There’s no one around to judge him for leaning against the frame heavily so he takes full advantage of it.
The door unlocks with a faint click and he pushes inside to see nothing has been moved or added, he lets out a sigh of relief. He locks the door behind him and beelines it to the couch, then makes a mental note to thank Mandy for it because his chair or the floor would be hellish on his injuries.
Robert’s eyes start to close against his will and a small nap can’t hurt.
Shroud struggling under his grip.
The satisfaction that curls in his gut and silences everything else. Shroud’s body slowly going cold and limp in his hands. The ugly creature that revels in the blood cheers.
The gun in his hand aimed at Robert, the gun lying next to his father’s cooling body. Shroud’s body dying in his hands.
The never ending cycle of blood.
Robert wakes up with a start again.
He barely manages to stumble to the bathroom before he’s dry heaving into the toilet. Every time he closes his eyes he can see Shroud’s face, blue and red and beaten, and waves of nausea roll through him again. He hears the sounds of whining from behind him and for a second Robert thinks he completely lost it before something settles against the side of his leg.
Beef looks back up at him with what almost looks like worry before rubbing his face against Robert’s leg. He knew he couldn’t hide for long, Chase must’ve dropped him off while he was sleeping and Robert is not heartless, so he takes a shaky hand and pets his dog. “Hey buddy. Had fun at uncle Chase’s?” He hoarsely lets out. Beef’s tail slaps the floor loudly as he pushes up into the scratches.
Robert has to blink away the vision of curling his hand against Beef’s throat.
He takes his hand away so fast half his joints pop. “Fuck.” He has to ignore Beef’s whines at the sudden stop and he shakily starts to stand up. Chase should’ve kept him for longer, he can’t stay here.
A blink and he’s on the roof of his apartment, breathing in the familiar smell of the city. He’s not close enough to the ledge for it to be a problem. Did he lock the door? It doesn’t matter now. Robert just needs a second away from everything, he’s so glad no one else tried to visit him. He doesn’t think he can face any of the team after killing someone, the hypocrisy of telling them that they’re heroes now, that they need to be better, and then he turns around and kills someone.
A ball of light barely shaped like a person shoots off in front of him, briefly illuminating the roof. Right, it’s still the second shift. Robert pulls his knees up to his chest, he can get away with a little more time before anyone comes looking for him.
The next day he wakes up to the sound of his front door jiggling and not quite hushed voices arguing. Robert blinks for a second and then just rolls over to block the light that pools in when the door finally opens. He really doesn’t have the energy for this, he barely slept.
From the sounds of it, half the Z team are at his apartment instead of being at work like they’re supposed to. And they’ve dragged Waterboy in with them. Prism is the loudest of the bunch, not that they’re trying to be quiet in the first place. The unwanted vision of grabbing her arm and forcing it onto her own eyes flashes into his brain and he squeezes his eyes harder to try to force it away.
He hears bags rustling, Beef’s nails clicking on the floor and Malevola cooing over him. “We bring gifts! In the form of food, mostly.” Prism speaks up again, this time directed at Robert, he hears the bags rustling again and feels the pinpricks of eyes on him but he can’t bring himself to move.
“Come on, bitch. We know you didn’t eat anything today.” Flambae speaks up, then adds, “or yesterday probably.”
“Shouldn’t all of you be at work?” He says, finally giving up on them leaving him alone and turning to look at them. Flambae, Prism, and Malevola greet his vision all cramped into his tiny kitchen. Waterboy is crouched down, petting Beef and avoiding eye contact.
“We don’t like the temp they brought in.” Mal says simply, plugging in a microwave. Where the hell did they get one of those? “Coop and Punch Up would’ve joined us if they didn’t get dispatched already.”
Flambae chucks something at him and Robert’s reflexes kick in on time to grab it before it hits his face. A breakfast burrito from the looks of it, still hot. He doesn’t feel like eating.
“Well you’ll have to deal with whoever they brought in. I’m still ‘pending investigation’.” He says with air quotations. Blazer said she wasn’t going to do much, it feels more like being put in time out. “And you’re grown adults, you can handle working with someone you don’t like.”
“Not when that someone is bossing you around and fucking up everyone’s synergies.” Prism huffs, running her nails through Beef’s fur.
Robert leaves the burrito on the couch as he stands up a bit unsteadily. “Just… get back to work.” And leaves to go to the bathroom, ignoring the looks they shoot each other.
When he leaves the place is blissfully empty. The bags they brought in are mostly empty, he can only assume most of it is in his fridge, the burrito is still on the couch and Beef is gnawing on a bone, wet patches of fur starting to dry. He sighs, sinks into the couch and puts his face in his hands.
It’s hard to keep unwanted thoughts away when he doesn’t have anything to distract himself with. His phone is dead and all he can feel is imaginary heat sweltering at the back of his neck. He manages to get himself moving to plug his phone in before going back to lay on the couch, he’d rather work than be stuck in this limbo.
The monitor is still here from when they were looking for the Astral Pulse, Robert pushes the vision of Shroud out of his mind and focuses on the monitor. He could… No. He’s suspended, better not test Blazer’s kindness.
It takes him until noon to finally feel human enough to get up, and only to walk Beef. “Lets go, Beef.” He says as he clips the leash on. After a second’s thought, he picks up the still wrapped burrito and shoves it in his hoodie’s pocket, he can eat it at the park later.
The weather is nice out, somehow Torrance is recovering quickly from the shit show that was the Red Ring. The world keeps spinning despite it all. Robert checks the time on his phone and realises it’s when his team goes on break, meaning it's only a matter of time before he gets ambushed.
It takes until they reach the actual park. A few steps in and suddenly a furry arm is slinging itself across his shoulder and it takes everything in him to not plant his feet and slam the body attached to that arm to the ground out of pure instinct. “Bobby boy!” Robert lets out a sign that sounds more like a hiss than anything. “Fancy seeing you out here.”
“Hey Sonar.” He ignores how easy it would be to break his arm, how if he switches to his bat form he could get a few hits in with the knife he keeps on him to the membrane of his wings.
Sonar starts steering him to a specific area and he lets himself get dragged along. “I don’t know if the others told you but our temp sucks so we took our break outside. Just in case we run into him on our break.”
He hums as he sees the rest of the Z team sitting around two picnic tables. Beef starts to pull on the leash to get to them faster. They sit him between Coupe and Flambae, the latter who gives him a look of pure disgust when he pulls out the still wrapped breakfast burrito but thankfully doesn’t say anything.
Robert doesn’t think he’ll be okay for a long while, with how sometimes his hands would twitch with the phantom feel of bloodied skin under white knuckles, or how sometimes, he’ll look at his team— his friends, and imagine hurting them against his will.
But for now he can pretend, and that’s good enough.