Chapter Text
The first time was after they got kicked out of a bar.
“New rule,” Robert said, “no bar fights when we have good drinks.” He’d gotten a decent glass of whiskey for once, and it was sitting on the bartop unfinished. Goodbye, Robert thought wistfully. No way they were coming back here next week.
“We didn’t start that one,” Visi argued. She frowned at the bloodstain on her jacket. “Just fucking got this, pieces of shit,” she mumbled.
“Cold water and soap,” Coupé called, voice casual and not at all like she was picking glass shards out of Punch Up’s shoulder.
Robert took quick stock of the rest of the team, loosely huddled in the biting chill of two in the goddamn morning and patching each other up. It was a rest day tomorrow, which should take care of the rest of the bruises.
Satisfied, Robert nodded to himself. Time to go the fuck to sleep. He needed to pick up Beef and then he’d be set for a few hours of no thinking. Robert shrugged his jacked all the way on and took a step.
A hand on his bicep stopped him.
“Nah,” Prism said.
Robert, who had been about to cut through an alley the team called ‘the murder shortcut’ squinted at her. “Nah?”
“She means you’re not going back to your apartment, dumbass.” Malevola rolled her eyes.
Robert should probably be offended by the dumbass thing. He didn’t do any dumbass things today, the team would never have let it go. “I live there,” he said.
“You’re injured.”
Robert scoffed. “Barely.” His shoulder had been reset easily. He’s had worse from training sessions from his dear old dad.
“Sonar needs company,” Malevola said quickly. Weirdly quick. The words all mushed together. Her lips pursed, and Robert thought she looked slightly appalled that that particular string of words came out of her mouth.
Visi chortled from somewhere over Malevola’s shoulder, and at least three voices hissed some variation of shut up.
Robert paused, trying to figure out what the fuck that meant. “...Okay?”
“Your company.” Malevola’s finger tapped his injured shoulder.
What. Robert has had less concern from her after waking up from a fifteen hour knockout. “Do you think I’m going to die in the middle of the night,” Robert drawled.
Malevola pressed down on Robert’s shoulder, hard.
“Fuck off,” Robert seethed through the pain spike, slapping her hand away.
“If you die then Sonar will know, and then we don’t have to find your body stuffed in a dumpster.”
“Dumped in the harbor is more likely.”
“Thank you, Coupé, I’m glad I’m worth dumping in the harbor,” Robert said.
“Anyway,” Malevola said, “enrichment time with bat boy. Don’t die.”
“I’m a big boy,” Robert said. It was a weak effort at a last ditch attempt to wiggle away from the scrutiny.
“Prove it,” Malevola said evenly, at the same time Sonar called “--is he talking about his dick?”
Malevola flicked one of Sonar’s ears. “Think of it more like babysitting him,” she jerks a thumb over at Sonar.
“I have a life,” Robert said, dry. “And a dog that also needs attention.”
The flash of a portal and Beef was deposited in Robert’s arms. His tail wagged, unbothered. Robert was, once again, left to be thankful Malevola had never decided to dabble in any sort of extreme thievery.
Sonar leaned over Malevola’s shoulder. “Bring him; little dude is welcome anytime.”
Robert sighed. It’s not like he had anything more exciting than staring at his ceiling, anyway.
“Think of it as a favor for your team,” Malevola pitched her voice to an eerie echo of Blazer’s. “You want your team to be worried you might bleed out and die?”
“I would like that,” Flambae raised his hand, smirking.
“Defeated by a glass of shitty alcohol,” Robert tossed back flatly.
“Anyway. Sonar gets angry when idiots ask stupid questions at whatever con panel he’s watching. Make sure he doesn’t do cyber crimes. Or get ragebaited. Or go big bad and destroy his apartment. Again.”
Sonar’s ears dropped just a little bit. “Aw, Mal. What?”
Malevola clicked her tongue, shoving Robert hard enough for him to hit Sonar’s chest. “Couch buddy,” she said.
Beef yipped.
“Couch buddies,” she corrected.
Oh boy.
Robert sighed. “Fine.”