Chapter Text
“–you hear me?” a voice called out to him in the darkness.
Warmth. It clasped his right hand. The gentle pressure was just enough to be soothing.
“Robert?” another voice asked.
That was him. Robert Robertson the Third. He should try to answer, right? That’d be the polite thing to do, even though he couldn’t recognize the voices. They were still too muffled, as if they were whispers in the distance.
“Please, kid.”
Kid. Only one person called him that and didn’t mean it as an insult.
Chase.
It’d been a long time since he’d heard that kind of desperation in the man’s voice. Years. It was the last thing he heard after Chase tried to talk him out of being Mecha Man. It was the same tone that had made Robert hesitate before cutting Chase out of his life. Robert never wanted to hear anything like that again. Not from Chase.
The warmth lingered on his hand. Robert focused on it.
All he had to do was move.
It didn’t have to be anything big. Just enough to let Chase know he was still there, that he could hear the plea. He wanted them to know he was fighting to come back to them, no matter the cost.
The warmth vanished.
Frustration bubbled up in Robert’s chest. He’d left it too long. He hadn’t tried hard enough.
He failed. Again.
The warmth returned, but it was different. Softer. A small bell pulled Robert out of his own misery, and the warmth became more defined. Someone gently cradled his wrist and moved it, letting it drape over the familiar form.
Beef.
The sound of monitors beeping around him mixed in with the sound of the inconsistent bell. Hushed voices echoed around the room. A whine tore from the ball of fluff at his side.
“--not rocket science,” someone muttered. “Just let us know if one of the prison guards is coming.”
Prison? Why was he in prison?
What the fu–
Wait…
What was the last thing he remembered?
Flying in the Mecha Man suit. An explosion. Then, nothing.
Another whine tore from Beef’s throat, reminding Robert of his mission: move.
He focused on his hand again, moving from his wrist, to palm, to fingers. Fur shifted under his fingertips. Soft light pierced his eyes as he forced his heavy eyelids to cooperate, but it wasn’t unbearable. Vision swimming, Robert focused on the ceiling above him, watching the lines in the ceiling tiles dance before settling into a constant state.
“Guys…” someone whispered.
Something pressed against his face and hissed as it pushed air against his skin. It took a few moments to recognize the oxygen mask. Footsteps echoed around the room, some inching closer to him. Someone’s furrowed brow leaned into his view.
“Kid?” he asked. The man’s dark skin and white hair came into focus. “Can you hear me?”
Yeah. That woke him up.
Chase was the only one who called him ‘kid.’ He had since Robert was young. He’d grown used to the habit the speedster wasn’t able to break, even though Robert never tried to get him to. It was familiar in a time when nothing made sense. Familial in a time when his last living relative had died.
“Chase?” Robert mumbled, but it came out rough. Butchered.
Sighs of relief flooded the room. Someone collapsed into a chair off to the side. Others grabbed the nearest person’s shoulder or patted another’s back.
“Yeah, it’s me.” A small, breathy laugh passed the man’s lips. “You scared the shit out of us.”
“You’re old,” Robert muttered.
“If we’re stating the obvious, you look like Devil dragged your ass through Hell then kicked you out for being too much of a damn nuisance.”
Beef moved slightly under Robert’s hand as he carded his fingers weakly through the dog’s fur. “Old,” he repeated.
“Yeah, kid, we’re way past tha–” Chase leaned back as the dark humor fell from his face. “How long has it been since you last saw me?”
“Fifteen years,” Robert mumbled.
***
Invisigal’s heart sank.
The relieved atmosphere turned tense in two words.
“Wait, does that mean…” Prism began.
Blonde Blazer pushed herself out of the seat and moved next to the wounded dispatcher. She pointed at herself. “Hey, Robert. Do you know who I am?”
“Blonde Blazer,” Robert breathed.
“Have we met before?” she asked.
Robert’s head moved side-to-side slowly. Briefly. Had someone not been watching intently, they would’ve missed it.
“Lad doesn’t remember,” Punch Up stated.
Chase placed a hand on Robert’s shoulder, jarring the man just as he nearly fell unconscious again. “This is important, kid. What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Suit. Explosion. Shroud.”
A flicker of hope rose in Invisigal’s chest.
“Steel mill.” Robert’s words slurred as his eyes closed once again, and his breathing settled into a steady pattern.
Her hope extinguished.
They all fell silent.
Chase bowed his head for a few moments before standing straight. “He remembers the first time the suit exploded. It was before Blazer hired him as a dispatcher.”
“It has to be temporary, right?” Golem asked from the corner of the large room.
Nobody answered.
“What if it isn’t?” Flambae asked.
“What bullshit is that?” Malevola argued. “He just woke up for two minutes. He’ll remember everything when he’s more aware.”
Invisigal shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s part of the team, right? Who gives a shit about anything else?”
At least, that’s what she was trying to tell herself.
“Vis–” Golem began.
Invisigal held her breath. She rushed to the door and pulled it open. She didn’t know where she was going, but anywhere would work. The hospital room was too suffocating. As she turned down another hall, she breathed. Something wet trailed down her face as she sped through the maze of halls and hit the stairway. Her chest heaved as she debated going upstairs or down.
But her mask finally slipped.
She sat on the stairs feeling more helpless than she ever had before as she wiped away the tears, trying to force them to stop. She was stronger than that. When did she go from being a stone-cold villain to this mess of a person? She remembered every interaction with him. She could still hear his voice in her ear as he gave her a future to believe in. To look forward to.
The door opened. Chase looked around before stepping through and letting it close behind him. “You picked quite a place to disappear to. Quiet, at least. Figured you’d go up to the roof. It seemed more like your style.”
“This is bullshit,” Invisigal growled. “He’s alive. I thought we were going to get him back, but now? Now, we get him back, but it’s not him. He won’t be the same guy I…”
“Fell in love with?” Chase sat next to her, his elbow touching hers. “You said it yourself. It doesn’t matter if he remembers. Who gives a shit as long as he’s still alive? I’m not saying things will be the same. They won’t. What matters is we stay by his side through this shitshow.”
“Even if that means letting go of him?”
“Especially then, because that’s what you do when you care for someone. Love them. You can still have your memories of the old Robert, but don’t be afraid to make new ones with the Robert who came back.”
Invisigal leaned forward and planted her elbows on her knees. “How are you so calm about this? How are you not pissed?”
“Of course I’m fuckin’ pissed,” Chase stated. “I’m pissed at Shroud for putting him in that situation. Pissed at his dad for making his son believe his fate was to die in the suit. Pissed at the world because something this shitty shouldn’t happen to the best person I know on this damn planet. Pissed at…” He trailed off and took a breath. “But I’ll hide it, because that’s the last thing the kid needs right now.”
Silence fell between the two. Invisigal’s mind whirled. She understood Chase’s point, but there was something deeper than that. She was angry. Enraged. How could they have lost Robert even though he was breathing? Alive? He’d have no memory of them. He wouldn’t remember the first shift where everyone made fun of his name. He’d forget reforming the Phoenix Program into something better, greater than anything anyone thought possible. He wouldn’t recall any conversation, life-altering or just shit-talking. Even though they’d all known each other for months, he’d go back to day one.
It wasn’t right.
“No,” Invisigal stated. She looked up and met Chase’s confused gaze. “He didn’t give up on me. Or any of us. I’m not letting him go that easily.”
“Then what’s your grand plan?” Chase asked.
“Not sure yet,” she replied. “Probably something stupid. You know, Z-Team style.”
Chase laughed. “That’s what I’m worried about. You going to start another bar fight?”
“If it knocks some sense into him, absolutely.”
A hopeful expression crossed the man’s face. “Don’t get him into fights while he’s still healin’. Other than that, I’m in. What’s your plan?”
***
As the days passed, Robert was able to stay awake for longer periods of time. Each time he woke up, there were always people with him. Sometimes, he’d join them in brief conversation before succumbing to exhaustion again. Most of the time, he’d just listen to the constant, hushed bickering, debates, or humorous banter.
It felt safe. Familiar.
He didn’t know him, but there was a part of him that believed he should. Robert tried to remember anything, even a flicker of an image, scent, or memory that would lead him to the truth, but it never worked.
Still, he was too stubborn to give up.
“I don’t know your names,” Robert remarked.
Their bickering stopped as the group stared at him, wide-eyed, as if the question was a loaded gun. He didn’t understand what was wrong with it. It was just a name, right? If it could bring him one step closer to the truth, then Robert wanted to know.
Plus, he liked them.
Even though he barely knew them.
“I’m Courtney,” the smaller woman said as she waved a hand at him.
Robert nodded at her, then cast a glance around the room, waiting for someone else to speak up.
“Gibb,” the demon woman replied.
“I’m Colm,” the small, bulky guy said.
“Bruno,” the construct stated as he lifted a hand in greeting.
“Alice,” the bright-haired girl replied.
“Victor, ‘cause I’m a winner,” the bat hybrid stated.
The last man hesitated for a moment before sighing. “Chad.”
Robert studied the group. There was something off about it. It didn’t sound right. From the way Chase and Blonde Blazer reacted when he first woke up, it wasn’t hard to figure out he was missing a portion of his memories. He wasn’t sure how much. A gut feeling told him he knew them. Somewhere in those buried memories, the group was at the center of them.
Those weren’t the names Robert knew them by. He was sure of it.
But he’d let it go. For now.
“Nice to meet you all.” A small smile crossed his lips. “Again.”
Beef’s bell rang as he rose and shook at Robert’s feet. The overweight dog clambered up next to him and curled into his side. Absent-mindedly, Robert ran his fingers through the dog’s fur. At least he remembered his sidekick. Maybe not all was lost.
“You can’t have a dog in here,” a woman called out from the ajar door as she pushed it open.
“Oh, shit,” Alice muttered.
“Abort, abort,” Victor called out.
Gibb rushed to Robert’s side and pulled Beef into her arms. “Sorry, babes. You’ll see him again.” She winked, then opened a portal and stepped through it.
Alice glared at Colm. “You were supposed to be the lookout.”
“Can’t blame me for bein’ distracted,” Colm replied. “We all were.”
The nurse lectured them about hospital policy, sanitation protocols, dog hair and machinery, and potential allergic reactions as the group remained silent.
“The hospital has a therapy dog,” Courtney pointed out.
“He’s qualified to be here,” the nurse argued. “Trained.”
“That’s still dog hair and slobber, sweetheart, even if you throw a service vest and leash on it,” Alice replied.
It was ridiculous. Maybe he was more tired than he knew, but Robert laughed for the first time in… years? Was it really that long, or could he just not recall it? As he drifted off to sleep again, he figured it was just the exhaustion talking.
Whatever his relationship was to the group of people arguing with hospital staff over dog hair and saliva, Robert’s only regret was he didn’t remember them properly.
He’d love to know what crazy shit happened before all of this.
***
His arm was gone.
Maybe it was the pain medication that masked the loss of it or the fact that he didn’t always remember things when he woke up, but his arm was gone.
The fingers on his right hand danced across the bandage wrapped around where his left bicep used to be, making the void below his shoulder all too real. A monitor off to the side beeped more rapidly, the intensity growing with each passing second. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him and the awkward silence that followed.
“Will you guys give us a few minutes?” Chase asked.
Without a word, the group shuffled toward the door. They hesitated for a moment before choosing to walk through it, closing it behind them with a soft thud.
Chase’s hand clasped against his right shoulder. “Slow your breathing down, kid.”
Robert hadn’t noticed, but the man was right. His breathing was erratic, rushed and short. He couldn’t pull enough air into his burning lungs. His body vibrated as if his bones would leap out of his skin. Chase tightened his grip briefly before letting go and reaching for Robert’s right hand. The older man placed Robert’s palm against his chest, just over his heart.
“You gotta breathe, Robert,” he said. “Look at me.”
Robert obeyed, even though it felt like the world was falling out from underneath him.
“Copy me.” Chase inhaled deeply, then breathed out slowly. “Come on, kid.”
Robert took a shuddering breath in, then out. Chase’s steady heartbeat thrummed underneath Robert’s fingers.
“Again,” Chase softly demanded.
Robert repeated the motion. Chase stayed by his side, an anchor in a sea of panic where the waves threatened to drag him underneath the raging water.
“I’m not going to tell you it’s okay, because it isn’t,” Chase said. “You can feel sorry for yourself and grieve for now, but don’t stay there, kid. You’ve got so much waiting for you on the other side of all this shit.”
Robert squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see reality anymore. It didn’t change it, though. Whenever he chose to open his eyes, Robert would still be down one arm. He’d still be in a hospital bed attached to machines and filled with pain medication on a routine basis.
“He-heroes,” Robert began before having to draw in a shaky breath. “Get hurt.”
“They do,” Chase replied. “And you’re one of the best there’s ever been.”
Robert swallowed the lump in his throat. “Did it matter?”
“You mean did it have meaning?” Chase asked, although he didn’t wait for confirmation before continuing. “You’re damn right it mattered. You saved a lot of people. Risked your life to do it.”
Robert bowed his head. Chase gently ran his fingers through his hair, softer than he used to when Robert was a kid.
“And I may be pissed at you for risking your life, but I’m so damn proud of you,” Chase said.
Robert’s eyes burned, and his vision blurred. He’d waited his entire life to hear those words from his father, only for them to never meet his ears. But hearing it from Chase? That was something entirely different.
Somehow, it mattered more.
Robert let the tears fall onto the white hospital blanket.