Chapter Text
“You can’t be serious.”
“Why would I lie about this?”
Mandy stared at him from behind her desk, hands clasped in front of her face like she was physically trying to hold onto her sanity. She took a slow, steady breath.
“So…” she said, looking up at Robert. “You never graduated high school.”
Robert shrugged. “To be fair, I thought you already knew.”
“You got this job because Chase strong-armed the upper brass and because you’re Mecha Man,” Mandy shot back. “Your paperwork got fast-tracked so hard nobody actually checked it!”
“I still don’t see why this is a problem,” Robert said.
Mandy let her head drop onto the desk with a dull thud. “Robert…”
“Hey, I knew what I was gonna do with my life,” he continued. “Didn’t really see the point in finishing high school. I already knew all that basic stuff anyway.”
“The problem,” Mandy said, lifting her head just enough to glare at him, “is that I need actual records to process your salary and employment properly. And right now? You have basically nothing. No transcripts, no diploma—hell, barely anything beyond a birth certificate.”
Robert frowned slightly at that, like now it was starting to sound inconvenient.
Mandy rubbed her temples, eyeing Robert like he was personally responsible for her impending migraine.
“Please tell me you at least have a driver’s license.”
Robert very deliberately did not meet her eyes.
“Robert…”
He kept staring at literally anything else.
“ROBERT.”
“I never had time to take the test!” he shot back. “I was busy kicking villain ass, remember? Besides, driving isn’t that hard.”
Mandy went very still.
“Robert… please don’t tell me you’ve been driving without a license.”
Robert clamped his mouth shut.
“Robert!”
“What? You said don’t tell you, so I didn’t.”
Mandy looked like she was about two seconds away from committing a felony.
The office door opened before she could act, and Invisigal poked her head in.
“Hey… everything okay in here?”
Mandy didn’t even look away from Robert. “Visi, your boyfriend is a dumbass.”
Invisigal snorted as she stepped inside. “Wow, bold opener. What’d he do this time?” she asked, glancing at Robert.
“He doesn’t have a high school diploma,” Mandy said flatly.
Invisigal blinked. “Wait—you didn’t already know that?”
Robert winced. “Apparently being Mecha Man meant my paperwork got fast-tracked hard.”
“Oh, that’s kinda sick,” Invisigal said, impressed.
“He also doesn’t have a driver’s license,” Mandy added with a tired sigh.
Invisigal whipped around to stare at Robert. “—What?!”
Robert groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Seriously? You had to tell her?”
“She’s your girlfriend. She deserves to know this kind of thing,” Mandy snapped.
“Wait—whose car have you been driving?” Invisigal demanded. “I’ve seen you pull into work.”
“Coop’s,” Robert admitted. “She flies most places, so she’s been lending it to me.”
Invisigal just stared at him for a beat.
“Rob… babe,” she said slowly, “I love you, but you are a dumbass.”
Robert huffed, crossing his arms. “It’s really not that big of a deal. I know the rules of the road. Why do I need a license?”
“Keys. Now.” Invisigal held out her hand, tone firm. “I’m not letting you get arrested because some cop does a spot check and realizes you’re driving illegally.”
Robert rolled his eyes, but he still dug his keys out of his pocket and handed them over. He knew better than to argue with her—it never got him anywhere.
“You’re taking driver’s ed after your shift,” Mandy added. “SDN sponsors a free program for all Phoenix heroes. As their dispatcher, you technically qualify.”
“Hey, that’s completely unnecessary. I know how to drive,” Robert protested. “I just never had time to take the test.”
“You’re going,” Invisigal said flatly.
Robert huffed again, muttering under his breath, but didn’t push it.
“And while you’re at it, you should get your GED,” Mandy continued.
Robert blinked. “I’m twenty-six. Do I really need that?”
“Robert,” Mandy said, fixing him with a look, “I need actual records so I can legally pay you. The last few checks almost got flagged—and the only reason they went through is because no one upstairs wants to piss off Chase.”
That… made Robert pause.
He’d never really thought about it before—just how much had been hand-waved because he was Mecha Man.
His dad’s influence when he was alive.
Chase pulling strings behind the scenes.
Being one of the most recognizable heroes in L.A.
It had always given him a free pass.
But there were things Mecha Man Blue couldn’t do. Things that had to be handled as Robert.
And he hadn’t handled them.
God… he’d spent way too much time being Mecha Man, hadn’t he? So much that now it might actually come back to bite him.
Invisigal huffed and turned on her heel, storming out of the office.
Robert watched her go for half a second, then glanced at Mandy, silently checking if she needed anything else.
Mandy just waved him off.
That was all the permission he needed.
Robert hurried after her. “Courtney, wait! I’m sorry!”
“Why didn’t you tell me you don’t have a license?!” Courtney demanded, her voice edging into that familiar sharpness that always came from worry more than anger.
Robert rubbed the back of his neck. “I really didn’t think it was that big a deal. Before the suit got wrecked, I mostly used that to get around. Couldn’t afford a car anyway. I only started driving more once I picked up the dispatch job.”
Courtney threw her hands up. “I don’t want you getting screwed over because of something stupid like a busted taillight! You’ve already been screwed over nine ways to Sunday!”
Robert winced slightly, but he didn’t push back. He knew this wasn’t her being mad—this was her being scared for him. She knew what he’d been through, how bad things had gotten before the Z-team helped pull him out of that hole. The last thing she wanted was more piling on.
“Hey… I’m really sorry,” he said quietly. “You’re right. I should’ve told you. I just…” He hesitated, eyes dropping to the floor. “I didn’t want you to think I was stupid.”
Courtney’s expression softened instantly. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, and he hugged her back without hesitation.
“You’re not stupid, okay?” she said, her voice gentler now. “If anything, you’re scary smart—heavy emphasis on the ‘scary.’”
Robert huffed a quiet laugh against her shoulder.
“You’re just…” she pulled back slightly, giving him a look, “…kind of an idiot when it comes to normal life stuff. You grew up in a completely different world because your dad was a hero. Your baseline is all messed up.”
“Yeah, that tracks,” Robert muttered.
“I just don’t want you getting screwed over because you don’t realize how regular society works,” she finished softly.
Robert nodded, leaning into her a little. “Yeah… okay. That’s fair.”
Courtney reached up, running her fingers through his hair. Robert leaned into the touch without thinking, and she huffed softly.
“Let me drive you for a while, okay?” she said. “At least until you finish driver’s ed and get your license.”
“Okay,” Robert agreed almost immediately.
“And we’re also getting you your GED,” she added.
Robert groaned.
Courtney laughed. “Oh, don’t be like that. It’s not like you’ll have to sit through all those boring classes again. And you heard Mandy—you kinda need this stuff. You deserve to actually get paid for putting up with us all day.”
“Yeah, okay…” Robert sighed. “You’ve got a point. Can’t exactly live without money. And I can’t keep relying on my reputation to save me, especially if I’m spending most of my time as Robert now.”
Courtney nodded, studying him for a second. “You still want to wait until you’re stronger before picking up the mantle again?”
She always asked like that—careful, checking, making sure he wasn’t pushing himself too hard.
Robert didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. The fight with Shroud already pushed me to my limit. I’m not where I used to be—not after the coma.” He flexed his hand absently, like testing it. “I need to get at least… fifty percent of my strength back before I even think about going back out there.”
Courtney’s expression softened, but there was something steady underneath it—approval.
“Good,” she said. “Then that’s the plan.”
Robert nodded, leaning into her a little again, letting himself settle there for a moment.
Courtney gave him another squeeze, smiling up at him.
“Okay. Driver’s ed after your shift today. This weekend, we look into getting your GED. And then we find a physical therapist near your apartment, alright?”
“Ugh.” Robert thudded his forehead lightly against her good shoulder, still careful to avoid the other one. “I’m already dreading the bill.”
“Then let me pay for it, dummy.”
“Nooo,” he groaned. “I’m already asking way too much of you as it is.”
Courtney laughed. “I’m your girlfriend. Let me take care of you.”
Robert huffed, but there was nothing but fondness in his eyes when he looked at her. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Hey, that’s my line.”
They both laughed softly, the tension easing. Robert smiled, then leaned in, gently capturing her lips in a quiet kiss.
God… he really didn’t deserve her. She was always thinking of him, checking in, making sure he didn’t push himself too far, making sure he felt heard.
He loved her. A lot.
A camera click cut straight through the moment.
Robert froze, then immediately pulled back, whipping around.
“Whoever took that—delete it right now!”
Prism was already halfway down the hall, cackling, phone held high.
“Absolutely not, bitch—this is gold! I need proof you two were smooching in the office!”
“Prism, I will write you up!”
“Try it, dispatcher boy!”
Robert bolted after her.
Courtney just laughed, leaning against the wall as chaos erupted—Robert trying to wrestle the phone out of Prism’s hands while she twisted away, dodging him and mashing at her screen to send the picture off.
“Too late!” Prism sang. “It’s already in the group chat!”
“PRISM—”
Their bickering echoed down the hall, full of threats, insults, and absolutely zero real heat behind it.
Courtney shook her head, smiling to herself.
Yeah… he was gonna be okay.
“Hey, do you guys think the infirmary has diabetic testing strips?” Flambae’s voice crackled over comms. “I think I need to check my blood sugar.”
Invisigal snorted, glancing over just in time to hear a solid thunk as Robert dropped his forehead onto his desk hard enough for it to carry through the line.
Didn’t take a genius to figure that one out.
Flambae had been making the same joke for months—something about Robert and Courtney being illegally sweet. Any time they so much as held hands, he started talking about diabetes.
“Flambae, I swear to God…” Robert groaned into the desk.
“Is it possible to get diabetes from a picture?” Flambae continued. “Asking for… scientific reasons.”
“Flambae!”
“I’m honestly just surprised,” Malevola cut in, casual as ever. “You two kissing in the office is like seeing a solar eclipse. Rare, mildly alarming, and I feel like I should’ve been warned.”
Robert shot upright. “Malevola—”
“I already saved it,” she added, not even looking up from her phone.
“I will hack you so hard I’ll turn your router into a paperweight!” Robert snapped.
“Nah, mate, you won’t,” Malevola said easily. “You hack me, you lose your gaming buddy.”
Robert deflated instantly. “…You’re the worst.”
There was a beat.
Then Malevola smirked, voice warm under the sarcasm. “Nah. You love us.”
Robert dragged a hand down his face. “I hate all of you.”
Invisigal just leaned back in her chair, grinning.
Yeah… he definitely loved them.
“O-oh, are you and Sonar s-still living together, Malevola?” Waterboy asked, tilting his head.
“Yeah, batboy’s still crashing at my place,” Malevola said easily. “Still just friends—which means I get a front-row seat to their Minecraft misadventures.”
“I regret introducing him to the Create mod,” Sonar cut in, mild horror creeping into his voice. “He’s turned half the map into an industrial complex and built a working train. A train. Guys, I am not making this up.”
“Hey, at least he’s having fun with it,” Invisigal said with a grin.
“Visi, you have not seen his tree farm,” Sonar insisted. “It spans several hundred blocks, all sectioned out for different types of trees. I don’t even know when he had the time to build it.”
There was a brief pause.
“Insomnia was pretty bad that night,” Robert said, a little quieter than before. “Playing helps keep me from drinking.”
The comms went a little quieter at that.
Malevola cleared her throat. “Well. On the bright side, if society collapses, we’ve got automated lumber covered.”
Invisigal snorted. “Yeah, apocalypse hits, we’re going to Robert’s world. Dude’s already got infrastructure.”
“Dibs on the train,” Flambae added.
Robert huffed softly, some of the tension easing. “You’re all banned from my server.”
“Too late,” Malevola said. “I’ve already copied the seed.”
“MALE—”
They all laughed, but no one asked how Robert was doing.
It was an unspoken rule among them.
They knew he hated that question—Are you okay?—especially when it came to anything deeper than surface level. Physical stuff was different. If he got knocked around, sure, they’d check in. But the mental side of things? That was his. And they respected that.
If Robert wanted to talk, he would.
He was just… private about it. Especially when it came to things tied to his dad. Or Shroud.
At least with Shroud back behind bars, things had gotten a little easier. Not perfect—never perfect—but better. Like everything else, it came in waves. Good days, bad days.
And today?
Today seemed like a good one.
After a few months of working together, they’d all gotten pretty good at reading him. The little things—the way he held himself, the tone in his voice, how quick he was to snap back with a joke.
Today, he was lighter. Looser.
Doing okay.
Invisigal peeked up from the copier room, where she had a clear view of his desk. Like he felt her looking, Robert glanced over—and smiled.
Not the polite, automatic one.
A soft one.
Real.
She smiled back, ducking her head slightly.
Yeah… today was going to be alright.
And once his shift was over, she’d help him get everything sorted—license, GED, all of it.
Because that’s just what you do when you love someone.
And she really, really did.
“You know,” Janelle huffed, shaking her head, “I probably should’ve asked if he had a license before I started lending him my car.”
Courtney snorted softly beside her, the two of them lingering outside the driver’s ed classroom while Robert sat inside.
“Hey, I don’t blame you for trusting him. I didn’t even know until Mandy told me.”
Janelle smiled faintly. “I think I was just so relieved. After a month of driving him to work, he finally tells me he can handle it himself and I’m like—great, one less thing on my plate.”
“Yeah… turns out that confidence was a little misplaced,” Courtney said, amused.
Janelle let out a quiet laugh, leaning back against the wall. “It just blows my mind sometimes. The guy can hack into secure servers, probably rewrite half the internet if he got bored, whipped this entire team into shape in under a month…”
She shook her head, still smiling.
“…and he doesn’t have a high school diploma or a driver’s license.”
Courtney laughed, crossing her arms. “Yeah, that tracks. Robert’s got, like, maxed-out intelligence stats and absolutely nothing invested in life skills.”
“Zero points. Not even an attempt.”
“None.”
They both laughed, the sound echoing softly down the hallway.
Janelle glanced toward the classroom door. “At least he’s fixing it.”
Courtney’s smile softened. “Yeah. He is.”
From inside the driver’s ed classroom, Robert’s voice suddenly rang out—
“What do you mean twelve to eighteen inches?! Wouldn’t it make more sense to just go with the maximum distance? A full foot should be the standard between the car and the curb!”
Courtney and Janelle immediately lost it.
Janelle doubled over slightly, laughing as she wiped at her eyes. “Okay—yeah, that explains why my car’s always been in perfect shape.”
Courtney grinned. “Right? Man’s been overcompensating for a license he doesn’t have.”
“Honestly, I’m not even surprised,” Janelle said, still chuckling. “That’s just how Robert is.”
Courtney nodded. “Yep. Maximum efficiency, even when it’s unnecessary.”
Janelle leaned back against the wall, glancing at her. “So… I’m guessing you two have dinner plans tonight?”
Courtney smiled a little, reaching down to scratch between Beef’s ears. The chihuahua-corgi yawned, tail giving a lazy wag before he rested his head back on his paws.
“Don’t tell Chad,” she said quietly, “but we’re grabbing pizza on the way to his place.”
Janelle snorted. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I’d rather not hear him go on another fiber lecture over comms.”
Courtney laughed. “God, not again.”
Chad had been on a mission for months now—get Robert to eat something that didn’t come in a wrapper or a delivery box. When subtle nudges didn’t work, he just started showing up at Robert’s apartment. Groceries if Robert complained about money. Pre-cooked meals if he said he was too tired.
Relentless. But… well-meaning.
Courtney glanced toward the classroom door as another muffled protest from Robert filtered through.
“…I’m just saying, mathematically—!”
She smiled to herself.
Yeah… he was gonna be fine.
About half an hour later, the classroom door swung open.
Courtney looked up just in time to see the instructor firmly usher Robert out, a driver’s ed study guide shoved into his arms before the door shut behind him with finality.
Robert stared at the door, visibly offended.
Then he turned to Courtney and Janelle, cheeks faintly pink. “…I got carried away again, didn’t I?”
Courtney giggled. “You realize arguing with the instructor is probably not your best strategy, right?”
“Okay, in my defense,” Robert said, lifting the booklet slightly, “my dad basically trained me to question everything as a default reaction, so—”
“You’re ridiculous,” Courtney laughed, stepping up to kiss his cheek.
His blush deepened, but he smiled, the tension melting right out of him as she slipped her arm through his and started guiding him toward the parking lot.
“Have a good night, you two,” Janelle called after them. “And Robert? Thanks for not wrecking my car despite, you know… not having a license.”
Robert winced. “Okay, look—I probably should’ve told you, but in my defense, you never asked.”
Janelle snorted. “Fair enough. But I’m taking my car back until you’ve got an actual license.”
“That’s… yeah, that’s fair,” Robert admitted with a sigh.
“Don’t worry,” Courtney added, giving his arm a small squeeze. “I drove my truck.”
Robert glanced at her, then huffed a quiet laugh. “Wow. Look at me, being responsibly chauffeured.”
“Don’t get used to it,” she teased.
“…Too late.”
Since Robert didn’t have a proper dining table, and neither of them felt like sitting at the counter, they ended up curled together on the couch. The TV Courtney had bought him a few weeks into their relationship flickered softly in the background, playing some cheesy rom-com she’d been dying to see.
Robert didn’t mind. He was only half paying attention anyway—more focused on her than the movie.
Beef was sprawled beside them, doing an absolutely terrible job pretending he wasn’t waiting for pizza crusts.
Courtney leaned into Robert, relaxed, only half-watching the screen. After a while, she tilted her head up to look at him.
“You know you don’t have to be so gentle, right?” she said.
Robert blinked, glancing down. “Hm?”
She smiled a little. “You keep avoiding my left shoulder. It’s really not that bad anymore. The muscles don’t even hurt.”
Robert’s gaze dropped. His hand rested lightly on her arm, careful—always careful—never quite touching that spot.
“I just…” he hesitated, voice quieter, “don’t want to hurt you.”
Courtney rolled her eyes fondly and shifted closer, pressing into him on purpose. “It’s fine. Seriously. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Robert studied her for a moment, then slowly reached up, gently pulling the fabric of her jacket aside just enough to reveal her shoulder.
The bullet wound had long since healed, leaving behind only a small, round scar.
A mark that hadn’t been there before.
A mark she’d taken for him.
He could still remember it—the shot, the impact, the split second where everything had gone wrong. The way he’d instinctively checked himself, hand pressing to his chest—
—and then pulling back to find the bullet in his palm.
It had barely broken his skin.
But Courtney…
Courtney had stepped in front of him without hesitation. And now she carried the proof of it.
For the rest of her life.
And somehow… she didn’t regret it.
Robert’s thumb hovered near the scar, not quite touching, like he was afraid even now.
“…You shouldn’t have had to take that,” he murmured.
Courtney reached up, catching his hand and guiding it the rest of the way, pressing his palm gently against her shoulder.
“But I did,” she said softly. “And I’d do it again.”
Robert’s jaw tightened slightly.
She nudged him with a small smile. “Good thing you’re hard to kill, though. Makes my job easier.”
A quiet huff of laughter slipped out of him, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Courtney noticed.
She shifted, cupping his face lightly to pull his attention back to her. “Hey. I’m okay. Really.”
Robert looked at her, searching her face like he needed to prove that was true.
After a moment, he nodded, letting out a slow breath.
“…Okay.”
She smiled, satisfied, and leaned back against him—this time not avoiding the shoulder at all.
After a brief hesitation, Robert let his arm settle around her fully.
Beef, sensing opportunity, immediately lifted his head.
Robert sighed and tossed him a crust.
Peace restored.
“Hey… you know it’s kinda fair, right?” Courtney said softly. “You got hurt because of me, I got hurt because of you. We’re kinda even now.”
Robert tightened his hold on her immediately, already recognizing the spiral. “Hey—no. Don’t do this again. Shroud’s the one responsible for that bomb, not you. And I’m fine.”
“I still placed it,” she said quietly. “You still ended up in a coma because of it. It was dumb luck Janelle was there—otherwise it could’ve been so much worse.”
Robert pulled her a little closer. “Hey. We’ve talked about this. That bomb ended up being the best thing that’s happened to me in fifteen years. It’s how I ended up dispatching you crazy lot. I wouldn’t have met you without it.”
Courtney let out a small snort, though her smile lingered as she rested her head against his shoulder. “I still regret it… hell, I regret getting involved with the Red Ring in the first place. But…” she hesitated, “I guess I wouldn’t have signed up for the Phoenix program without the guilt of almost killing you hanging over me.”
“Hey,” Robert murmured, softer this time. “I’m okay. And yeah, waking up and realizing four months of my life were just… gone? That sucked.” He huffed lightly. “But because of it, I got the best thing in my life. I met all of you. Found out I’m actually pretty good at this whole dispatcher thing.”
He nudged her gently. “You know I forgive you, right?”
Courtney sighed, but there was a small, real smile on her face now. “Yeah… you’re such a sap, you know that?”
Robert smirked faintly. “Only for you.”
Courtney squeezed Robert’s hand, her smile soft—but there was a weight behind it. He could tell she was still thinking about it.
He didn’t push.
He knew it would take time for her to work through the guilt from everything she’d done back then. And honestly… he didn’t blame her for that.
But if he was being completely honest?
He was glad that bomb had happened.
Yeah, it had sucked—waking up to find four months of his life just… gone. His body weaker, slower, not what it used to be. That part had been hell.
But it had led him here.
To this.
Before he could say anything else, Beef let out a sharp yap and launched himself onto the coffee table, snatching an entire slice of pizza from the open box.
“BEEF—NO!”
Courtney burst out laughing as Robert lunged forward.
The chihuahua-corgi took off immediately, claws skittering across the floor as he dragged the slice with him like he’d just committed the perfect crime.
“Get back here!” Robert called, chasing after him.
It took a solid minute of dodging furniture and near collisions before Robert finally caught him, scooping Beef up mid-escape.
“You are unbelievable,” Robert muttered, holding the dog up while Beef happily chewed like he’d won.
Courtney was still laughing on the couch.
Robert sighed, but there was a smile tugging at his lips as he looked over at her, Beef tucked securely in his arms.
Yeah… things weren’t perfect.
He still had a lot to figure out. A lot to fix.
But he wasn’t doing it alone.
He had Courtney—someone who would pull him back when he got stuck in his own head, who wouldn’t let him forget he was allowed to just be a person sometimes.
And, if necessary, someone fully willing to smack him upside the head and call him an idiot.
Robert huffed a quiet laugh.
Yeah… they were gonna be fine.