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"All I wanted was for you to look at me the same way you look at Blazer."
Courtney's confession echoes through the locker room, a knife in Robert's gut.
"Even if it was just once, you know? That'd have been enough."
"I don't know what you mean by that."
It's a lie. It's a lie to convince himself as much as her. That this thing between them isn't a thing. That he can pretend they're still just friendly coworkers slinging banter to get through the day. That they're not two damaged people who don't know how swim, each dragging the other down in their fight for the light of the surface as the ship sinks around them.
"Yes, you do."
She looks at him, and he's done for.
A faucet drips somewhere in the room. If he says anything in this moment, he knows he will regret it, so he doesn't.
She stands, and moves past him to leave. He tries to meet her eyes, but she's gone with a flash of light as he turns his head.
Her footsteps fade. For a second he can breathe again. The ship is not sinking.
Then— boots squeaking on the tile, running back to him, slamming him into the lockers behind him. A hand is planted on his chest, firmly, desperately. Another brushes the nape of his neck as it travels up to cradle the back of his head, asking, pushing him into warm lips that he can feel but cannot see. His brain takes a moment to catch up, not fully able to process what is happening until he stills and she shimmers into view again.
She looks at him, challenging him wordlessly to admit he doesn't want this. Hands tighten in his hair and pull him in again.
He shouldn't want this. He knows it's wrong, this isn't how heroes act, but when was he ever a hero? He's always been just a sad, angry kid playing pretend in his dad's threadbare cowl. Wasn't even important enough for Shroud to put him out of his misery, as long as the suit was out of commission. There is no man without the mecha.
He shouldn't want this, but fuck it, it's what he deserves. Mandy only ever saw him as what he pretended to be, a knight in a shiny metal suit. Courtney sees— well she knows he's a mess. He's at her level. They're both two fuck ups playing at being hero until someone real comes in to save the day. Blazer in his case, Chase in hers.
Courtney's lips are rough, imperfect, wanting. She parts them, inviting him in, and he tastes nicotine. The light of the surface is far above them now, glittering shards teasing him with a life he can't have and doesn't deserve.
He needs more. His hand finds her waist, she pushes it away but doesn't retreat from the kiss. Dauntless, he reaches for her again, she shudders at his touch and leans in for more. His heart pounds in his chest, tightening. His stomach sours, twisted. Chase wouldn't approve. Chase might die though. The fuck? No, he can't think about that. Can't think about Mandy. Think about the beautiful mistake in his arms right now.
Tries not to think about how she's kissing him like it's the last time she'll ever see him.
He reaches out for her again, needs her in his arms, doesn't care, he's too far gone now. He touches her hip, isn't even thinking, but it's too far. She freezes, flashes, disappears. He feels her still in his arms and on his mouth a second longer, as if she isn't sure— but then she's gone for real this time, steps running away and out the door.
He calls her name once, but she doesn't return.
This was a mistake.
Late afternoon rain patters on the window behind Blonde Blazer. On any other day the weather would be a welcome relief from the dry California climate, but today it just serves as yet another annoyance. She hates flying in the rain. She sits back in her chair, rubbing her temples— she's allowed herself to remove her iconic blue mask for a moment. There's only so much the SDN medical clinic can give her for stress headaches save a physician's order to take time off, and that's the last thing she wants to do right now.
It could rarely eve be said that the SDN Torrance branch manager was not busy, but today made most other days look like a breeze. Ever since she had received a call early that morning from Robert, panicked and harried, she had been zipping back and forth between Torrance and DTLA all morning, personally meeting with the top brass to assuage their growing doubts about the Phoenix Program. The program was already under heavy scrutiny before this current mess, and now with one of her top dispatchers in critical care, she's needed to pull every string she can and cash in every goodwill IOU she earned for dragging Torrance into the one of the top performing branches in the company.
And even with every favor she can call on, it's not looking good for Invisigal. Once the public gets wind that she was involved in the incident at the warehouse that sent beloved retired hero Trackstar to the hospital, they'll be out for blood and someone to blame.
She doesn't want to blame Invisigal. Probably against her better judgment, Blazer always had a soft spot for the surly rogue ever since she showed up a couple months ago with a crumpled application pulled out of her back jeans pocket. But she also knows it's not fair to the rest of Robert's team to ask them to risk their career for one person. Especially after one hero had already been cut, it just wasn't a good look.
She sighs. She could really use a drink right now.
There's a knock at her door and she swiftly replaces her mask, steeling herself for the worst before calling out— "Come in."
The door handle turns and the only person Mandy isn't dreading to see right now enters.
"Robert." She rises, pushing her chair back with a bit too much force, and crosses the room towards him.
"Blazer, hey." He smiles at her, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. She sees his hair is damp, he must have just returned from taking Beef out.
She wants to embrace him, but unsure what he needs right now, settles for taking his hand in hers. "It's good to see you. How's the team?" She asks, but she can guess the answer from the grumbling she's heard in the few minutes she could spare outside her office.
"They're uh— not great." He appears to chew on his next thought, looking down at their clasped hands. "Can we talk? Uh, if you have time of course. I know you've been busy today."
"I always have time for you, Robert." She smiles, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "Want to sit?"
"Yeah. Yeah, thanks."
She leads them to the couch in her office, yellow and comfortable. It's seen too many late night power naps recently.
"Can I get you anything? Water, or- well, water? I could see if Mr Whiskey's got something stronger. I know it's kind of setting a bad example as your manager, but I think we're past that point by now," she laughs, but she's rambling; a bad habit her mother always hated.
"No- but thanks, Mandy." She glances at the door, a subconscious reflex at hearing her name, but it's shut tight. He sits forward on the couch. "Yeah, the team. They're pissed. Had a meeting about it."
She nods, sees where this is going. "I saw the conference room reservation, is this what you need to talk to me about?"
Robert swallows, nods. Takes a breath and shakes his head. "It's Visi. Fuck, Mandy, I had to cut her." His voice cracks and he puts his head in his hands. She places a hand on his back, letting him collect himself.
There it is. She understands, of course. For a moment the fleeting feeling of relief that she doesn't have to broach the topic first crosses her mind, but she swats it away. She's aware they had grown closer over the past several weeks, and with all her experience as a manager, letting someone go is never easy, let alone a friend. "I'm assuming she didn't take it well?"
He shakes his head. Turns his head from her— she can tell he's trying not to let her see the wet streaks he wipes away. "Fuck, I'm sorry."
"Nothing to apologize for, Robert. It's been… a long day. What with Chase and everything, I'm proud of you for handling it as well as you have. But please know that I'm here for you, whatever you need." She presses a kiss to his shoulder then. She catches a faint whiff of cigarette smoke on his shirt.
"I just feel like I failed you. You've worked so hard on the Phoenix Program, and I've already lost two of them."
"Robert, I assure you, you haven't failed. If anything, I failed you and the rest of the team for not recognizing that Visi would be as much of a liability as she turned out to be. I wanted to believe in her so much, I developed a blind spot."
"Fuck, Mandy. I don't deserve you."
"Will you let me be the judge of that, hm? I know you did all you could, Robert. I wouldn't have put you in charge of the team if I didn't think you could handle it, please understand that."
He looks at her, eyes suddenly focused on her with an intensity she's never seen before in him, but it alights something warm deep in her core.
Suddenly she realizes exactly how close their faces are and then— his lips are on hers, soft and questioning at first, but she doesn't pull back, and he takes that as invitation to deepen the kiss, pulling her into him to where she's almost sitting on his lap. She's careful not to, of course, always aware of how much stronger she is in this body, could easily break bones if she's careless, but she lets him take the lead and allows herself this moment she's been wanting for longer than she'd like to admit. His stubble is rough on her skin, and she can taste the sharp bite of mouthwash on his breath. His hand, warm and wanting, cradles the side of her face. Robert pulls back, she chases him with her mouth, but he leans back to look at her.
"This is okay?" His voice is husky, low.
She bites her lip. This probably shouldn't be happening here in her office, but she can't bring herself to care right now. He needs her right now more than paperwork does. "More than okay." She turns her face into his palm and kisses it.
He smiles softly, then thumbs the edge of her mask. He brings his other hand up to the side of her head. "May I?" She nods, and he lifts it off her face, placing it on the table next to them. "There she is," he murmurs, brushing a lock of blonde hair out of her face.
She smiles and bites her lip. Butterflies, truly.
His eyes trace down to her lips. "You sure I'm not keeping you from anything?"
She tugs the front of his shirt, popping a button in the process. Oops. "You're not trying to get out of making out with your girlfriend, are you Mr Robertson?" Mandy teases, trying to play off the fact that they've never really defined their relationship thus far, hoping its not too bold.
"Girlfriend, huh…" Robert's eyes unfocus for the briefest of seconds, looking into nothing in particular. But before she can take it back, apologize for being too forward, too hopeful— he nods and meets her eyes. Instead of replying, he pushes his mouth to hers once again, insistent and wanting. He sucks her lip, and a soft moan escapes from deep in her throat. Warmth pools deep in her belly and she can feel herself grow wet. It's been an embarrassingly long time since she's been kissed this way, and she needs more. They melt into each other there on her office couch.
After a few minutes, Robert's roaming hands on her lower back have found their way underneath her suit, and his touch is fire on her skin. She removes her mantle, letting it fall to the floor as he lays a trail of kisses along her jaw down her neck. He sucks at her pulse point, until it elicits a low moan from deep inside her. She runs her hands through his hair, tugging him back up to her lips. He is demanding, assured, but gentle. After a few minutes she finds herself being guided down on the couch, one of his knees brushing the inside of her thighs, providing just enough pressure to make her core ache with want. Mandy pauses to break from their kiss and presses her forehead to his. "If we're doing this, I need you to go lock the door," she murmurs.
Robert meets her eyes for a moment, nods. He hops off her and dutifully crosses the room, turning the latch with a click. She glances at the clock on the wall— they have time. Truthfully she never imagined this is how their first time would go down— but if she's being honest the idea of it sends a little thrill through her body. A small rebellion against the good girl next door costume she wears every day.
Mandy toys with the amulet at her sternum, considering removing it, but ultimately decides against it; there's always the chance of Blazer being needed for yet another emergency and she doesn't want to jinx this. She sinks back into the couch, slipping off her mantle and one of her gloves, but then Robert has returned and takes her hand in his, removing her other glove and pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, holding her gaze like a lifeline.
"You're bold today, Mr Robertson."
He just smiles, and pulls her in for another kiss. A hand brushes her breast over her suit, and she squirms in pleasure at the contact.
"Good?"
"Mhm— here," she guides his hand to the hidden zipper in her suit. He slowly unzips, trailing kisses down her skin as it is exposed. Her bra falls to the floor and he's palming her breast, rolling the raised nipple under his thumb, and she can't help but let out a breathy whine at his touch. God, it's been so long since she's been touched like this, it feels unreal. She clenches her thighs, her center desperate for friction.
Her hands roam his body, unbuttoning his shirt, desperate to feel his skin on hers. He shifts against her, pulling it all the way off, and she can feel his arousal, growing hard against her thigh, but when she starts to tug at his belt, he places his hand over hers.
"Let me take care of you first," he says, voice low.
"Are you sure?"
Robert doesn't reply, instead leans forward for another kiss which she accepts hungrily. He pushes her gently against the back of the couch, then kneels in front of her, reverent. She slips off the rest of her suit, leaving her in a pair of simple black panties.
"You're so beautiful, Mandy," he breathes. She knows she's not unattractive, but she feels her face flush at the praise anyway.
He lays kisses along the inside of her thighs, each touch sends a tingle of pleasure up to her center. His eyes meet hers, dark and heady, and with a finger he strokes her over her panties, adding just enough pressure to tease her.
"Robert." It's almost a whine, drawing out the end of his name. She's soaked through and he knows it.
He laughs, and pulls her panties aside. She feels a finger stroke her entrance up, then flick her clit, and she jerks, letting out a gasp. He grins at her and pecks her thigh, murmuring a soft apology. She huffs and tightens her thighs around him just enough to let him know to get to business.
His mouth is soft on her, gently exploring, then he sucks her clit and she's gone. Pleasure rockets through her core as he works, steady and rhythmic.
"Fuck— Robert!"
She can't help but moan as she peaks, gasping and clutching his hair in her hands until he lifts his head to breathe. She sees his lips are slick with fluids and leans down to kiss him, tasting herself on his tongue.
"You're amazing, Mandy."
"I need you, Robert," she whispers between breaths, "inside me."
He cocks his head at her and doesn't speak for just long enough for her to realize what she's asked. "Um, sorry, is that too—"
"No, no, Mandy, of course I want to. It's just I, uh, don't have a condom. I'm clean, but—"
"Me too. It's fine," she reassures him. It was probably fine. She'd stop at a pharmacy on the way home. Future Mandy's problem.
Robert nods. "If you're sure, yeah."
His brown eyes are fathomless, but she pushes aside the voice in her that hesitates, that says they shouldn't be doing this in the office, they should wait until after the third date maybe, definitely not a quickie on her office couch— this isn't very respectable of you, her brain taunts her in her mother's voice. Well, fuck respectable. Respectable was dating the PR-approved poster boy who saw that his Tab C didn't fit into her Slot B and didn't see the point in exploring alternate options.
She shifts up on the couch and Robert, now sans pants, looms over her. He kisses her, and— oh, slips himself in. "Fuck, Robert."
He kisses the pulse point at her neck. "You feel so good, Mandy," he says, voice husky and velvet.
He's slow at first, giving her time to adjust. She's appreciative of his attentiveness, but she needs more, which she whispers into his ear. His breath hitches and she feels him twitch inside her. Dutifully he picks up the pace, and she feels the warm buildup of pleasure in her core again.
"I'm so close, Robert. Don't stop."
Robert doesn't stop. She hooks a leg around him, he is hers, and lets the wave take her, gasping and trembling. She's crying out his name, biting his shoulder, and another peak hits her. His thrusts become erratic and she feels him come a few seconds later, arching as he releases, then he slumps against her as he's spent, panting and jerking as she rides out a few last aftershocks.
She clutches him to her chest as they slowly come back to reality. They lie there on her couch for several minutes, listening to the rain against her window; it's letting up now and she's thankful for that. She lets him readjust them so he's lying on his back and she lays her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. Mandy knows they should probably have a talk about them, but Robert doesn't seem to be very conversational and she doesn't press him. There would be time, later. Speaking of— she glances at the clock on her wall. Damn.
"Robert," she whispers, idly tracing a faint scar along his clavicle. He doesn't respond, just stares up at the ceiling. She repeats his name, louder now, and he starts, meeting her eyes.
"Is everything okay? You looked like you were a million miles away there." She keeps her tone light, hoping it doesn't come out too needy.
He smiles softly, then kisses her forehead. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, just um, spaced out for a sec." Something's off, but she can't quite touch it. She feels a twinge of frustration with herself; she's never been good at knowing when there's actually something unsaid beneath the surface tension or if she's just overthinking. She sighs, assigning the feeling to just a side effect of the rush of endorphins she just experienced.
He squeezes her hand. "Everything okay with Mandy?"
She grimaces. "I'm really sorry," she bites her lip, guilty. "But I have a meeting with the press in thirty minutes."
Robert chuckles, and sits up, revealing several angry red marks on his back. She murmurs an apology— she only just realizes how hard she had been gripping him, but he waves it off, nothing a hot shower and some ibuprofen can't fix.
He stands from the couch, finding his pants and shirt on the floor, pulling them on haphazardly. "I should get going anyway, check on Chase. Take Beef out."
He turns to the door, but she catches him by the wrist and tugs him into a kiss, pouring everything she doesn't feel ready to say yet into it. A minute and a thousand years later they separate, and he takes her hands in his.
"This was… nice, Mandy. Thank you, really. I…" He pauses, swallowing the thought, and begins again. "I'll text you tonight?"
"You'd better," she smiles. "I might have an idea for our next date."
"Wouldn't miss it."
"You feel the power? I see it now. I can see it all!"
Shroud stands in front of Robert, wreathed in crackling red light. They're on the roof of SDN, lit by burning rubble surrounding them.
"It's all there. Every permutation, every—" Shroud raises a revolver, his father's revolver, he recognizes, and points it at Robert. "—permutation."
Beef struggles in Robert's arms, but he holds on tightly to the whimpering dog. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, come on."
Shroud's eyes burn red as whatever madness the Astral Pulse in his head takes hold. "I see it. It's suddenly so clear. If I let you live, my odds of survival decrease exponentially." He cocks his head, amused. "Sorry kid." He shrugs, and his grip tightens on the gun, almost imperceptibly. Robert tenses to jump, run, attack— he isn't quite sure. But then, a familiar shape shimmers into view next to the villain. It's Visi. She meets Robert's gaze for a second, then looks away.
"Just in time. Be a dear and help me—" He's interrupted by Visi's knife plunging into his neck, blood erupting into the smouldering night.
The light in Shroud's eyes surge for a brief moment as he falls, never taking his eyes from Robert. The gun in his grip flashes.
Bang.
A weight slams into Robert's chest and
he's
falling.
Mandy's on the ground, looking up at Robert and Shroud on the roof, silhouetted by fire. She sees the flash of the barrel half a second before the crack echoes across the courtyard, and Robert crumples.
I knew you'd fall for them both.
Years of muscle memory as Blazer screams for her to leap up and rush to the rooftop, but she can't. She's glued to the floor, Chase wears her amulet now. No good deed.
Too much has happened tonight. Mandy feels like her nervous system has been doused in ice cold water and then shocked back to life. She can't have heard him right. There's too much distance between them, something had to have been misheard, misunderstood in the chaos. Shroud lies. That's what he does, he's had all of them wrapped around his fingers this whole time, and if she was actually good at her job they wouldn't be here in this position, surrounded and helpless and—
Because you're the only man in the world to be with Blonde Blazer and think you deserve more.
Mayhem erupts around her as the Red Ring start to panic. Mandy glances around, searching for an opening, anything, but there are too many surrounding them, she can't fight them all, not like this. She can't think, she can't move. All she sees is Robert falling, she needs to get to him.
You'd jump at the first chance to go behind her back with, what is it you call her?
Shroud's words ring in her mind. The others around her leap into action, throwing punches and blasts as the augmented gang members realize their leader has fallen. She doesn't care about them, she just needs to get to Robert.
She isn't sure how she makes it to the roof. Chase, or Coupe, maybe, but she doesn't fully register until she's there and sees him there, lying on the broken roof tiles. She wants to throw up.
—Invisigal.
The masked woman is kneeling above Robert, head bowed with her hand on his chest. Mandy is frozen. She tries not to think about how still he is. She wants to say something, to call out, but her throat is thick with everything she's trying to hold back, and she only manages a word.
"Visi—"
At her name, the dark haired woman stands, meeting Mandy's eyes for the first time that night. Her face, what little she can see above the mask, is glistening and wet, she can't tell if it's rain or tears. Visi says nothing, her dark eyes hard and inscrutable.
Mandy takes a step towards them, and Visi vanishes into the night.
Later, the coroner's report will say it was a freak reflex spasm triggered by Shroud's implants overloading, that he lost motor control almost as soon as the knife slit his carotid. It was pure bad luck that the bullet hit Robert square in the heart.
The remaining Red Ring who weren't arrested at the scene scatter across the city. Officially, Invisibitch isn't ruled responsible for Robert's death, but she is wanted for questioning about Shroud's activities. There are attempts to track her down, but to nobody's surprise she's gone without a trace.
The astral pulse is never recovered. Investigators scour the rooftop and surrounding ground for it, but find nothing.
People clasp Mandy's shoulder and say their condolences. Those that were there and heard Shroud's speech also offer words of comfort and solace, but she can feel a gentle pity in their words, the halted whispers when she enters a room and guilty glances when they think she isn't looking.
Mandy wants to be angry. She wants to hate Visi, to curse out Robert for playing with her, to cry and scream so badly, but she just feels empty. She can't bring herself to hate either of them. So she doesn't. She puts on Blazer every morning for work and takes her off when she gets home. She gives the press releases, files the paperwork, and works the late hours.
It's one of those late nights, a few weeks later, when she lets things catch up to her. She's sitting on her office couch, allowing herself to put her feet up for a bit while she reviews a stack of new hire applications. Or, trying to, at least. It had been a long day, and the couch was very comfortable.
Her eyes had been closed for a few minutes when a slammed door on the floor somewhere outside her office breaks the silence in the empty building. She startles awake, files fluttering to the ground. Must be a workman; portions of SDN Torrance was still under heavy repair after Shroud's attack. She sighs and collects the scattered papers. She reaches under the couch to find her fallen pen, when her fingers brush a small object. It is a loose button. One that looks very much like the buttons on a standard issue SDN logo shirt.
She rolls it between her fingers, remembering that rainy afternoon, and the tears come now, unbidden. Silently at first, but soon it's a waterfall she can't stop. She cries. She cries for Robert, for what they could have had, for how stupid she's felt for the last weeks, grieving a man who couldn't even fucking be honest with her about his feelings and then had to go and die and leave her to clean up his mess.
She cries until her eyes and nose are raw and her chest aches from sobbing.
When she's cried all she can for the night, she piles the stack of files on her desk; they can wait until Monday. She slips out of her office and makes a quick trip to the bathroom to splash her face with water. The workman must have left for the night, the building is silent and dark.
But when Mandy returns to her office to lock up, a faint whiff of cigarette smoke puts her immediately on edge. She casts her eyes around the dim office space, but of course there is nothing, nobody to see. Nothing, but for a flutter of movement on her desk. A scrap of paper, crumpled and torn from a pile of flyers in the break room, sits dead center on her desk. She picks it up and unfolds it to see just two words, in messy, hesitant handwriting.
I'm sorry. - V