Chapter Text
"There was a point,” Robert concedes almost in defeat, “Where I did respect him." Robert affirms his company, hands in his pockets as he stares at a bleak white ceiling. "He taught me most of everything I know. He taught me how to live beyond just... surviving." Beef sits beside his head, staring down at him as he pants.
Another voice in the room seems to doubt his statement, though, because he hears a contemplative 'hm'.
"What does that 'hm' mean?" Robert questions, prompting the other party to continue with his trail of thought.
A pause. "It's nothing, it's just that, well, you sound like you're not convinced by what you're saying." the man states, "So I'm not convinced that that's the case either. So I'll ask again, what do you really feel about him?"
Robert takes a moment to register what he meant. He also notices something drip down his nose. Fuck, is he really getting this emotional over something like this?
"You know, we don't really have to get into this--"
"No, we got into it. We're in it now." Robert cuts off. "Look, it's complicated, but I've had a decade to decide what to feel and I've decided on hating him." He says firmly. "Because it's a lot easier to do so. Still, he... he wasn't terrible to me."
And that was the truth. He wasn't. Not to Robert. He taught him things that he didn't have to teach. He practically raised him while his father was gone, and when he became busy he sicced Trackstar with he approval of his father.
His retrospection takes a moment of his time, keeping him quiet for a few seconds.
The man seems to take that silence as an invitation. "You wanna know what I think? I think you're making it more complicated than you feel comfortable admitting. I think it could be a lot more straightforward than that. It'd be easier, even, if it were."
Well, it is true. The company he keeps tonight has a purpose after all, and it's exactly for that seemingly straightforward conclusion to all of this. "That's true, but it doesn't erase the fact that he's arguably done as much bad in my life as he's introduced good."
Then he hears a chuckle. "Not to be the contrarian," The man starts, "But he literally fucking killed your dad. I don't see how any good shit he taught you outweighs that."
Robert hums, "Yeah, fair." He says. "I do agree. It's why you're here, after all."
"Ah shit, I put my fucking foot in my mouth didn't I?"
"Normally you should be vouching for people you work for, not the other way around." Robert sits up and he notices how whatever it was that dripped down his nose is colored crimson. "Fuck. I thought I was being emotionally snotty. Turns out, I'm bleeding."
The man laughs. "Must've been when I butt my head against your nose." He says, amused by his own act. "Must be really embarrassing. I can't wait to tell my buddies I at least got to hurt you."
"Aw, don't sell yourself short." Robert pushes himself up. Beef follows at his heels with a perk in his steps. "You would have broken my arm."
"I snapped the armor, not your arm."
"Humble. You would have been a nice hero." Robert hums appreciatively. "I'm going to give you a choice, though I think you'd choose one over the other and I feel awfully sorry for you because you would have been a great hero if you didn't crash out like I did.
"So here's what we're going to do. Tell me where Mecha Man is, or I will drop you twenty stories high and the only story you get to tell your friends is how I left you on the pavement as a calling card." Robert's face to face with the Vigilante, Toxin. Robert stares down at the stranger, one he’s known intimately over reports and pictures but only just now met. "Then I'll have to target another one of your friends."
"I don't know!"
Robert stands straight, staring down the blindfolded vigilante with a pitying expression. "Bull fucking shit." He says, disappointed.
He takes the chair with the vigilante tied in it and he drags it outside-- "Whoa, hey, wait, WAIT!" The man screeches.
"Unless it's the location of the man who augmented your abilities, then please shut the fuck up." Robert drawls,
"We were having a breakthrough!"
"So we were." Robert deadpans. He hauls the man over the ledge of the balcony, and he tilts him forward so he could at least feel how he's swaying. The guy babbles. Robert is desensitized to this song and dance, really. "Now, since you were such good company, I can afford to let you scream as loud as you want." Robert assures. "No one will be finding you."
He considers for a moment.
"Alive, that is. Unless you spill."
"Fuck you!"
"3."
"Do you not understand how hard it was to get where I am now!?"
"2."
"I owe him my fucking life!"
"1."
"FUCK YOU, HUNTER!"
Robert tries to find it in himself to feel bad for this. Maybe about a year ago, when his body count was less than a dozen. He does genuinely attempt at it.
He finds nothing.
He puts it on Elliot's tab, just another thing he stole from Robert.
There's a ping on the computer strapped to his wrist. Someone's trying to access this guy's location via his communicator. At this point, the blindfold on Toxin’s face had slipped off with all the ruckus. Robert sees the man’s eyes, and ah fuck, is he crying?
He doesn’t know how to deal with that. It’s almost awkward. Robert has some news to share anyway, but he has a hunch that Toxin’s already got the message. The red, holographic screen isn’t exactly subtle. "Shame, all that hard work, for nothing. I got it out of you anyway." He says,
Robert drops the body.
He turns away before he could see another one of his conquests splat on the pavement.