Chapter Text
The SDN building always felt busy, but today it felt overclocked. Too many overlapping calls, too many heroes tripping over each other, too many minor disasters stacking up in a way that grated on Robert’s nerves.
He sat at his desk with a half empty cup of coffee cooling at his elbow, jaw tight as the intercom crackled Every blinking light meant another emergency, another decision, another possible screw-up weighing uncomfortably on Robert’s shoulders.
He’d had three hours of sleep, half a breakfast bar, a sharp pain in his neck that wouldn’t go away, and little to no patience.
So when someone cleared their throat beside his desk, Robert braced himself before even turning.
“Sir—ah, boss?” Herman said, holding a stack of folders in both hands. “The—incident papers- reports from last night. You asked- you requested.. them.”
Robert blinked slowly. “Alright,” he said, gesturing at the desk. “Let me see.”
Herman set the folders down gently. Robert couldn’t help but grimace as he looked at them. Why had he thought Waterboy was a good choice for fetching papers?
“These are… wet.” He commented, chewing on his lip as he lifted the corner of a paper. He glanced at Waterboy and watched as his eye’s fell.
God, that hit him in a way it shouldn’t have.
“Oh. So—sorry, sir. I can fix it.”
“It’s not a disaster,” Robert said, softer this time. “It just slows things down.”
Herman nodded quickly and reeled his hands back, a puddle forming on the floor from where he’d stood for so long.
Robert exhaled. He could see that Herman tried. This was a mistake on his own end. Apparently he wasn’t thinking when asking for things.
Before Robert could think of something else to say, a beep came through his headphones and he turned back to his console. Another disturbance.. Collisions, property damage, Malevola and Sonar requesting support.
Robert straightened, his focus snapping into place.
Another update flashed on his screen, conflicting in the field data.
Robert winced. “Great. That makes no sense.”
“I can help,” Herman said quickly. “If you tell me what to look for—”
“I don’t…” Robert sighed. “I don’t want you guessing your way through this. It’s complicated. And if we misread anything, people could get hurt.”
Herman froze, expression tight. Embarrassed, almost.
Robert noticed immediately and attempted to backpedal. “I’m not saying you—”
“It’s okay!” Herman said quickly, chuckling awkwardly.
Robert hated that.
He kept typing but offered a glance up at Waterboy. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know,” Herman said, but his previous attempt at a cheerful tone was gone. It didn’t sound like he believed it.
Robert tapped the edge of the desk, searching for the right words. He finally looked at Herman fully.
“You’re not doing anything wrong. I just need you to wait for instructions. That’s all.”
Herman nodded, but his hands had curled into nervous fists at his sides.
Robert recognized it. He’d seen it all too much in the guy. The overthinking and nervousness.
He didn’t want to add to that.
But then another ping pulled his eyes back to the screen and his stress spiked and the words slipped out before he had the chance to soften them.
“If you’re not fully confident in this kind of situation yet it might be better to stick to tasks you know well.”
Herman didn’t flinch this time. He just went still. That somehow felt worse.
“Oh,” he whispered. “I… understand.”
Robert’s stomach tightened.
“That’s not—” he began.
“I’ll get out of your way,” Herman said, already stepping back. “Sorry—really. I didn’t mean to distract you.”
“Herman—”
But he was already retreating, head ducked, folding himself smaller and smaller until he disappeared around the corner.
Robert stared at the empty space he left behind.
He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes for a breath, and cursed himself under his breath.
He hadn’t been angry, hadn’t meant to push him away. He’d just been honest, in the exact wrong moment, to someone who took honesty like a punch in the gut.
Great.
Robert was left alone with a screen full of blinking red markers and a lingering ache of regret he didn’t quite know how to name yet.
But there wasn’t time for lingering when his screen was yelling at him.
He clicked on his earpiece.