Chapter Text
Robert has stripes down the side of his new leggings.
Malevola notices them idly, when she's drawn in by the thicker-than-usual scent of his pain, like how you might notice a cat outside your window.
Or a shiny penny on the sidewalk.
They're blue, and pink, in the same way Prism's hair is, and they go down from his hip to the arch of his foot.
It's arguably a very simple, very basic design. It's been done a thousand times, because those colors specifically just work together or some artsy nonsense. Those colors, in that order, didn't belong to Prism specifically.
These probably weren't even officially inspired by her.
They still feel like a claim.
And that- rankles something in her. Something primal, something with teeth that wants to bite bite bite into the thin stretch of skin between his neck and shoulder and-
"You just gonna stand there and growl?" Alice pipes up, abrupt and unbothered, "Or are you gonna get in on this? 'Berto's a cuddly bitch when he's out of it."
-and.. oh. Malevola hadn't even realized how close she'd gotten. Didn't realize she was practically tearing a hole in the backrest, where her claws were digging in.
Hadn't noticed the rumble building in her chest, or the way her tail lashed.
"I resent that." Robert mumbles, laid over her lap.
"Resent it all you want, I don't see you moving."
"He probably can't," and that might be a little mean, a little possessive to imply that if he could then he would, but she hopes her teasing tone hides it makes up for it, "I mean- with all that pain radiating off him."
The demon reaches down to lift his legs up and worm herself under them, hoping that it quiets this cruel greedy thing roaring in her belly.
"No worries there, though. I'll get you fixed up in just-"
It does, but- not in the way she'd hoped.
The second her black claws scooch under his ankle- gently gently gently, as she always has to remind herself to be with him- Robert hisses.
It's quiet, it's a flinch of discomfort as the air grows thicker with his pain, it's pulsing under her fingertips.
It's an injury he didn't tell them about.
"Robert?"
That thing in her stomach is quiet now, yet not sated. It's a writhing mess of wails and outrage she can only direct at herself, because how could she-
"Sneaky motherfucker," Alice swears at him, largely under her breath as she untangles their fingers,
The sound that tears from Robert's chest borders on tortured, borders on mournful, before he tucks all away like the missing contact doesn't bother him at all. Like a liar.
The pop star makes up for it in the next second, while Malevola remains frozen, and wraps her gloveless arms around his ribs. She tugs him, gently, up against her own chest- limiting the movement of his legs enough that he can't squirm away from a certain's demon's probing fingers.
Malevola locks back in enough to take the opening, to gently hold down his calves and finagle his leggings over his toes and up up up enough that...
That..
Oh.
"What the absolute fuck, Robbie?"
Bruises, black fucking bruises, were pressed into the pale skin of his legs like brands- so very clearly in the shape of chains that wound all the way up his shins. So clearly very recent.
They'd only just started turning blue on the edges.
Fuck, the skin around them was still puffy. Still raised and irritated and raw.
How was he walking on these?
Nevermind, how had he fought on these?
Where had they even-
Something familiarly fuzzy brushes her shoulder, something with a snout and fangs and big ears, and a comforting weight as it presses against her cheek to get a look.
"What's goin' on- what the fuck, Robbie!?" Sonar screeches, jerking backwards with his ears flush to his skull, "You never got them treated!? What is wrong with-"
The demon spins on him, "You knew?"
"You better have a real good explanation for not telling us, batboner-" Prism bites at him, tugging their.. vaguely uncomfortable looking dispatcher practically into her lap.
He doesn't try to squirm away though, so... must just be because they've sniffed out his lies.
Sonar wrings his fingers, nail beds morphing into claws with his building distress, "Kind- kind of? In an abstract.. inevitable... sort of way?"
Oh no.
Ohh no.
Malevola feels her heart, or whatever serves as it, sink.
"Tell me you didn't.."
Tell me you wouldn't, that same thing pleads.
She wants to believe he wouldn't- wants to believe that his time with the Red Ring, with Shroud, hadn't pushed him past some unspoken line. Wants to believe he had only been a bystander, and not..
Not what?
Not someone who would take revenge? He was, Malevola knew he was, but- this? To this extent? His most extreme crime had been money laundering! Cyberbullying.
Well- and.. like... manslaughter. But only in his beast form!
That.. this-
The bruises practically scream at her, an otherworldly screech of agony like metal nails on a chalkboard. Loud, loud, loud-
"Victor-"
"Don't make me lie to you, Mal." he nearly keens- nearly begs her, as the tension in the room continues to climb and-!
"If you two are done being drama queens," Robert cuts in, still snug in the ring of Prism's arms, "They are literally just bruises."
This motherfucker!
Malevola brushes the back of her knuckles against his ankle.
And he hisses at her, the lying twat, and tucks his feet closer to Prism's side.
"Okay, that was uncalled for."
"Don't be a drama queen."
+=+=+
Alice doesn't let go of her barely human sized teddy bear until... well. She doesn't let go at all, actually.
She keeps hold of his middle, carefully, loosely, while Malevola does her freaky healing shit. And the bruises don't.. go away, exactly, but they fade- a little, enough. They fade into blue-ish purple splotches instead of black tattoos, before Robert tells her to stop.
Because Malevola is sweating, and her brows are pinched, and because he's a good fucking person at the worst fucking times.
They bandage the rest- which includes an honestly horrific mosaic of bruises and slashes on his stomach, ones that make Sonar whine out more distressed noises at their level of treatment [that is to say- lack thereof], and nasty rope burns on his wrists.
Eh.. wrist- the other was still wrapped from when he tried to break it barely an hour ago.
"How were you walking, bitch?" Alice huffs at him, shifting her legs a little to create a better nook for him to rest in, "Fuck, how were you fighting?"
"Well." he drily starts, as he lets himself be shifted, "I was in a giant metal suit. With a comfy seat."
Cheeky motherfucker.
She clicks her tongue, "Don't be like that."
Then again, he was also fresh out of a coma when they all fought in that bar. And he still finished more fights than he didn't. Alice was pretty sure he bit off a finger too...
So..
Hm.
"Is that seat really comfortable?"
"Oh, yeah- easily the best thing I've ever sat in. I told Royd the old one worked fine, but- he insisted."
Alice pulls him a little closer, lacing her fingers over his stomach, "Second best, you mean."
And- it makes him laugh a little bit.
It's barely a huff, barely a jump in the muscles of his belly, and barely the bones of something tangible- but it's real. And he's smiling a little bit too, as he leans his head back against her shoulder.
"Second best." he affirms, all indulgence and softened edges.
And maybe.. everything is a little more okay.
"Damn right," she nods, at the risk of this moment getting too sappy, "Hey, what's your favorite fruit?"
It was impossible not to overhear his conversation with 'Bae earlier- about why he didn't keep any real goddamn food in this place. It was impossible not to notice how the man glances over at the question.
Or how he swipes out of whatever social he'd been stalking to open something else.
"What is this, twenty questions?"
"Maybe," the pop star bites at him, literally snapping her teeth near [but not touching, just in case] his chipped ear, "Answer it, bitch."
"Fuck- okay, okay. Uh.. what's yours?"
She can't help but narrow her eyes at him, even if the effect is somewhat lost under the thick lenses of her visor. It feels like he's trying to wriggle out of answering.. but-
"That's easy. Grapes."
Maybe if she laid down her hand first?
"Grapes? Really?"
"Mhm. Especially the cotton candy kind- you ever have those? The cotton candy grapes? Tastes just like it."
"Huh... can't say I have, but- fitting." he smiles at her, weak and small.
. . .
"...I like blueberries, I guess?" Robert finally offers, almost endearingly awkward, "Chase uh- we used to make a game out of it."
Another huff of a laugh, before he tucks himself a little closer- tilts just enough to burrow into her collar and then freeze. Like he'd done something wrong.
Alice doesn't say anything, doesn't do anything that might spook him any further.
No, she simply readjusts her hands to make him a little more comfortable. She simply shifts them off his stomach, but she doesn't let go. She simply smoothes one down his flank, and simply squeezes his elbow.
She simply holds him.
And soon he starts thawing, bit by bit. Limb by limb.
Step by step.
Until Alice is holding a sleepy dispatcher- her dispatcher- and until he's starting up the story.
"I haven't had a blueberry in a while, actually. I would throw them, and Chase would catch them in his mouth from all around the house. Didn't even matter where I threw it, or how far."
That's.. kinda sweet actually. Alice always sorta suspected that those two had a closer relationship than just coworkers or old friends. And yeah, the old bastard proved that with the whole 'his kid' thing.
But... it's just kinda different to hear it from Robert too.
"Obviously we didn't know about the- drawbacks, back then," he continues, muffled, morose, "...I didn't know."
"Doesn't really sound like he did either," the pop star points out, "Or he would've told you."
It's not really a lie, Alice tells herself. The old bitch probably would tell Robert, if just to satiate the skinny man's curiousity. She ignores what might be the truth, the one that whispers at her that he wouldn't. That he didn't, until reality cashed its check.
Because Robert already believed himself to be the cause of too many bodies- too many lost causes, too many losses.
"...you really think so?"
. . .
"Yeah, baby, I do."