Chapter Text
He’s in the middle of a nightmare.
It’s happening again.
When he was little and his powers manifested, it seemed like everyone around him was entranced.
“You’re gonna be a great hero,” they said. “You’re so powerful.” His parents were thrilled, at first. Their daughter had so much potential. All the kids on the block, all his teachers at school… And he hardly ever set anything on fire by accident.
But sometimes he did. He’d get upset, about homework or something… Whatever. He’d get upset, and his hands would start to get hot, and he’d end up burning something. His papers, the table, a wall… But he’d always help put the fire out. Help repaint the wall, or refinish the table. And his family understood. A strong superpower not only comes with potential, it comes with the promise of danger. And he did his best to mitigate it.
As he got older, things started changing. He started changing. His parents lost their daughter… That’s what they thought, anyway. And they kicked him out. He set fire to a hotel that night. It wasn’t on purpose… but it happened. He stayed at his brother’s place instead.
He did alright after that. He went to therapy. He got medication. He even got surgery, eventually.
And he made a friend. They went to bars together…
But if there’s anything in Chad’s life that’s a constant, it’s that he’s constantly getting fucked over.
His boyfriend cheated on him. Three years, it had been. And his partner cheated on him with a fucking sociopath. When that guy found out about Chad, he did everything in his power just short of murdering Chad to keep him away from his… Well, he was his ex, at that point.
So Chad burned his house down.
He was angry. At everything. And he acted out of rage. And he burnt that asshole’s house down.
Every fire after that was easier to set than the last. Abandoned buildings, a mall, a bank… And eventually a parking garage, where Mecha Man cut off his fingers.
The Phoenix Program wasn’t exactly a fresh start. They’re tracking him, constantly. He’s grouped in with a bunch of other self-absorbed assholes, and he got stuck following the commands of some bitch called Robert fucking Robertson.
It was awful at first. The first dispatcher he’d worked with was an uptight bitch called- …he can’t remember. He just called him names all the time. And when Robert showed up, acting all… all fucking friendly and supportive in a mean, tough-love sort of way, Chad expected to hate him immensely.
The problem, though… Is that after a while, he didn’t. He didn’t hate him. He found himself saying rude things less often, and when he did… they weren’t quite as sharp. They didn’t feel so sharp in his mouth, at least. But he kept saying them. He had to keep saying them.
The one thing in Chad’s life that he can count on is that he’s going to get fucked over.
So he tried to distance himself.
That didn’t work, obviously. They talk to each other every day. Robert is his boss, though the word is sour on his tongue and he’d never say it out loud. Regardless, they work together. They see each other every day.
Flambae’s flame started to die down around him. It got to be… comfortably warm, instead of a searing heat all the time. There wasn’t so much pressure building up anymore. He didn’t need to burn. And Robert… trusted him?
So… he really is a hero. A real hero. And yeah, he does it for recognition. But he also does it because it feels good. And he does it for Robert, who treats him like a real person. Like a good person.
“You’re heroes now. Heroes don’t start fights, you finish them.”
He doesn’t feel like a hero right now, holding a taco in his hand so tightly that it crumbles and falls to the sidewalk in a mess of hot sauce and ground beef.
“You’re right. It’s a front. This guy, Robert… is a mask. He’s not real.” Everyone had straightened up. Stopped eating. Stared at this man who they’d all been trying to piece together, and he was finally going to tell them the truth.
“He’s the guy who sits behind his desk, biding his time, dreaming of the day he gets back in the fight. I haven’t told you who I was because I’m kinda starting to like you all, and I’m not sure you’re gonna like the real me. But the difference between this team getting by and this team being great is trust. So you should get to know the real me.” Flambae had already started to feel uneasy. There was a fire in the pit of his stomach that was screaming at him that whatever comes next… He wasn’t going to like it.
“Um- I’m Mecha Man.” Something snaps. His eyes go wide. His taco is immediately forgotten, and he marches to face Robert.
“It is you, you little shit.” It comes out disarmingly quiet, but tense and venomous. It’s happening again. Because of fucking course. He’d let his guard down… and this is what he gets. He gets betrayed. He gets hurt. He gets punished. He should’ve known better than to let himself become distracted, to let his guard down. And the anger just boils out.
Flambae sees red. The fire burns so hot, and he just- he just lets it burn. It’s not even just Robert he’s mad at. He’s mad at everything. At everyone. He’s pissed the fuck off. His life is a goddamn mess. He’s masquerading as a superhero, but underneath, he’s that shitty villain who got his fingers cut off in a burning parking garage. He’s the dickhead who couldn’t help but pick a fight at that bar, and got a faceful of ice water for it. He’s the idiot who held his head up high and pretended to be better than everyone else just so he could make some damned distance and ended up here, eating fucking tacos with a bunch of fucking losers.
The fire is the only thing he can see. He knows, distantly, that he’s doing the wrong thing. But he’s not himself right now. Can hardly keep himself together. He knows that he can hear people screaming, yelling… Can feel the grip on his shoulder but barely registers it. Golem’s hulking presence abruptly scattering his flame snaps him out of it.
But he still feels fury. The fire in his chest is still burning. When everyone races towards him, he expects blows. When he doesn’t get any, the situation starts bleeding back into his reality.
What have I just done?
He pants, gasps for air, fills his lungs over and over again as his ears ring. The air around him is hot. He bites back the string of obscenities his mind spun to defend himself.
The ringing fades. It feels like it’s been minutes, but it’s barely been a moment. He takes a step backwards, and then another. Walks himself into a table, and then sits down, eyes still wide, breathing still rough.
Robert winces. Chad can’t see him- Golem is in the way- but he’s… alive, at least.
“...Shit,” he breathes, his fingers curling into the plastic beneath him.
“C’mon, Robert, open your eyes,” says Invisigal. Open your eyes.
“...Shit,” Chad says again.
“...Malevola, can you-”
“No. …A little.” He really wishes he could see what’s going on. And he’s really glad he can’t.
Fuck.
Robert has plagued Chad’s dreams for weeks now. Sometimes, they fight. Robert punches him. Robert always wins. …Sometimes, Robert’s fingers are in his mouth, and he wakes up painfully erect.
…And now, Flambae has just subjected Robert to a frankly inane amount of fire with zero protection at point-blank range.
His hands release the plastic seat beneath him and he stands, takes a few steps towards the chaos, and then just stands there, staring. Unsure what to do. Malevola seems to have been able to heal his face- Chad is sure he must’ve had burns from his head down to his waist with the amount of fire he just withstood. She’s working on his hand now. But his arm…
“...Shit,” he says for the third time. Robert must’ve brought his arm up to block… Force of habit, Chad is sure. Though… Mecha Man would’ve had a shield. Robert doesn’t. His skin is already peeling around his forearm, cracking and sloughing… “Shit.”
“Ambulance, you fucking idiot!” Yells Sonar. Chad realizes belatedly that they’re all yelling at him. He fumbles with his phone, dials 911, and then manages to say something like, ‘Need an ambulance. Uh- at the taco place.” His throat is dry and it comes out small.
He hadn’t meant to- …No. No, he did mean to. He was furious, and he wanted to burn the whole fucking block. But… He didn’t really want to hurt Robert like this. He wanted Robert to hurt, sure. But not like this.
Robert nearly vomits at the sight of his own arm. Chad doesn’t blame him. It’s not a pretty sight. A siren starts wailing in the distance as the operator says something over the phone. Chad isn’t paying attention.
This… this is his fault. Robert had done a whole monologue about how he liked the Z Team. It wasn’t like he was going to turn around and suddenly start cutting more fingers off. …But Chad snapped. He broke and he…
He isn’t a hero. He’s an unstable, walking firebomb. And he nearly just killed Mecha Man.