Work Text:
A rhythm.
A system.
Robert Robertson’s once exhilarating life, spent entirely flying through the night sky, kicking villainous ass, and drinking a lot, had turned into a simple office job sitting behind a desk and babysitting heroes that lived his stolen life.
They were mostly assholes, children who either never grew up or didn’t have a chance to due to extraneous circumstance. But, as corny as it sounded, somewhere along the way they had become his assholes. He felt a responsibility when it came to them. Especially his girlfriend.
Okay maybe the title ‘girlfriend’ was only ever said in Robert’s head when fantasizing about their relationship, exaggerating touches and glances. But they kissed, a lot, and even sleep together- literally, not sexually. They were.. something. Maybe not quite dating, but definitely not friends. Robert had been meaning to ask that question eventually anyways.
He got used to his boring job eventually, it became somewhat entertaining if he was honest. Like a video game. Picking the perfect hero for the perfect missions, making sure that he always had help available when needed, and of course making sure his team was safe.
So, on a regular Tuesday, after sending Prism to a non-descriptive, typical job to go monitor a protest and the angered response from citizens, he was rather surprised- and worried- when she started returning as soon as she arrived.
“Prism?”
“-ot fucking with that shit, can fucking send anyone else on that bullshi-“
“Woah, woah. What’s wrong?”
“Fuck that Robert, you can send someone else on that mission.”
“Prism, tell me what’s wrong?”
“-the fuck up-“
Her mic cut out, and Robert sighed in exasperation. She was muted for the rest of the journey back as the dispatcher returned his focus on the other z team members. That was the first time in almost 5 work days that Robert failed a mission. He was upset. Very upset, but not angry. He didn’t have the ability to be angry at these fuck ups anymore.
The door to the break room, somewhere behind him to the left, was slammed open and closed and as Robert turned in the chair he saw the telling sight of neon blue and pink hair.
“Chase can you,” Robert took his headphones off before standing up. “Watch my team for 5- 20 minutes?”
“The fuck? Where the fuck are you going- don’t walk away from me!”
“Thanks Chase! I owe you!”
“Fuck you!” The old man flipped Robert off as he finally slipped into the break room.
“Fuck off,” if Robert had a dime for every ‘fuck’ he’d heard since the day started than he wouldn’t need to be working at SDN to get his suit repaired.
“You don’t want to talk. I know. I’m not here to talk about that.” Robert moved to the vending machine and got a Twinkie, then a pack of skittles for Prism. He tossed the bag to her and sat across the circular table to watch her pick at the colorful candy. Robert turned to the clock and saw that 3 minutes had passed. Yes, he respected her boundaries. But it was also true that if he could just get her to tell him what was wrong then he could make it- okay wow that’s not a good way to think. Robert sighed internally, promising to look into the savior complex he was no doubt forming, but for now he really did want to help prism.
“If-“
“You know how I say I never had a dad?”
“Yeah.” Robert looked up to meet her eyes, deciding it would be better to let her get through the words herself.
“That’s not true. Not entirely. I do have a dad. His name’s Elijah.. and he is.. the leader of a cult.” She said calmly, but the crinkling of the skittles bag gave her nervous feelings away.
A cult? Robert wanted to ask, but he didn’t. Silence was what prism needed right now, and that’s what’s she’d get.
“People’s light or some bullshit I don’t know. He’s just like this.. glow in the dark messiah. Or he pretends to be. But the people ‘protesting’ had those stupid white robes in and that stupid fucking.. fuck.”
Robert’s chair scratches against the tiled floor and he moved it closer to her’s to grab the hand that shook helplessly under the table. He rubbed his thumb against her knuckles, and then pulled in for a hug.
“Sorry for sending you there.”
“You didn- you couldn’t have known.”
“Maybe, but if I gave you a better description then you would’ve backed out earlier. Do you want to talk about him?” He was definitely gonna go past the 20 minute mark, but Chase would forgive him.
“Talk about him? Not really. He’s an asshole, that’s it. Decided that his ego wasn’t big enough so he wanted to be worshipped- that’s kind of narcissistic bullshit I hate. Even tried inducting me.”
“Okay that sounds traumatic Alice”
“Pssh- girl, your father’s like way worse.”
Girl?
“My father wasn’t nearly as bad. Just.. stern.”
“You are, BLIND if you think that man was a good father. Stern? Babe- he was neglective.”
Was that a word? Babe? Robert was no doubt about to short circuit when prism all of a sudden called him babe, but he had an argument to win.
“Your father started a cult- that’s way worse.”
“Robert there’s no way we’re having this conversation now- your dad-“
“Get the FUCK back to your jobs!” Chase opened the door to find Prism leaning dangerously close to Robert’s lips, ready to kiss the man. She ended up doing just that in front of chase, doing her best to smear just a bit of her lipstick on Robert’s cheek as she pulled away.
“old man jealous of your game Robert,” she winked. Then her face shifted playfully stern. “Your father was worse. By babe!” She shot up and left the room.
“Damn it. She beat me.”
“Get the fuck back to your desk before I march your sorry ass into blazer’s office and you can have a fucking discussion with her about your-“
Robert filtered out chase’s vulgaritive filled rant, rubbing at the blue stain on his cheek as he walked back to his desk.