Chapter Text
“Take me back to the day
Yeah, when I was still your golden boy
Back before you went away”
“Mecha System failure.”
“Prepare for impact.”
It’s a sunny day in Los Angeles when the Mecha Man Astral suit falls to the ground in a smoking haze. The man inside is frantic, typing against his keyboards to try and get the Mech to respond, only to be met with error messages.
Nothing responds to him as he plummets to the ground.
“Shit, shit, shit!” The Mech jolts, threatening to toss the pilot out of his chair due to the turbulence.
“Prepare for impact.”
The pilot reaches up to pull open the latch that encases the Astral Pulse battery - only to find it jarringly empty. He feels his blood run cold as panic grips his heart.
Without the Astral Pulse, he has no way of stopping the Mech suit from falling.
A hero suddenly pushes past Robert and Flambae on their way into the building, knocking the two apart from each other - Robert has to hold Beef out of the way and Flambae has to take a step back; flames licking up his arms in irritation where he holds two coffees.
“What the fuck crawled up their ass!?” Flambae hisses after the hero before noticing that the entire lobby has heroes bustling in and out of every exit.
“ Why is everyone acting like Shroud broke out of prison?” Flambae grumbles tiredly, before suddenly sounding more alert. “Oh shit, did he?”
Robert snorts and readjusts the dog in his arms. “I think we would have been the first to know.”
“Not if it just happened, smartass.”
“Well, smartass, it’s a good thing we’re at work then.” They start to make their way to the elevator. “Isn’t that right, Beef?” Robert’s voice drops into the octave he saves specifically for his dog in a way that Flambae finds frustratingly adorable. “We’re in the perfect place for someone to tell us what the fuck is going on, huh?” Beef is standing in Robert's arms and jumps up to lick his cheek.
“Uhg, remind me why I fuck you.” Flambae groans as they reach the elevator, and uses the hand holding a cup with ‘Chud’ scribbled on it to jab a finger into the floor number.
The dispatcher doesn’t miss a beat. “Cause you think my voice is hot and despite having a flat ass you can’t seem to keep your hands off of it?” Robert shifts the dog in his arms and reaches for his own coffee out of Flambae's hands. “Robert” written in near perfect cursive on the paper cup along with a phone number scrawled underneath.
“Pfft, I’m not the only one.” The taller man grunts, eyes narrowing behind orange sunglasses. “ That stupid barista is lucky I didn’t singe his hair off.”
Robert rolls his brown eyes at his partner's antics and takes a sip. “He was just being nice. You don’t have to get so defensive when I talk to other men.”
“How many other men do you talk to?” Robert raises his eyebrows at the man, unimpressed.
“Whatever, doesn’t fucking matter.” Flambae uses his now free hand to press into the other man’s lower back. The elevator dings as the metal doors slide open.
Flambae’s voice drops into a seductive purr. “ I’m the only one who knows that you sound like a fucking whore when you’re taking it up the- “
“Robert! There you are -“ Mandy looks as frazzled as she sounds, brown hair barely staying in the loose bun she has it in. Her expression hardens at hearing the nearly reportable filth out of the Elementals mouth. “ Flambae, what did I say about work appropriate topics?”
“That they don’t include talking about Robert’s ass, yeah, I know.” Flambae’s hand retreats from Robert’s lower back when the other man elbows him in the ribs.
“I- you know what? Not important. We have a problem. Both of you, with me, now. Robert, drop Beef off with Chase. Flambae, a word? “ Mandy instructs. Knowing better than to argue, Robert shoots Flambae a worried look before making his way over to Chase’s cubicle.
Flambae opens his mouth but Mandy puts a single finger up to stop whatever was about to come out of his mouth.
“ I need you to listen to me quickly before Robert comes back.” Flambae’s eyebrows furrow but he nods at her to continue.
“I’ll fill you in along the way about the situation, but I need you to just promise me that you’ll look after Robert? He trusts you, and your the fastest person on the team at moment next to Invisigal but-“
“Woah, slow down.” Worry starts to eat away at Flambae from just her urgency alone. It takes a lot to shake the former wielder of the Blonde Blazer amulet.
Mandy’s blue eyes dart over Robert's form as he makes his way back over to the two of them. “Just get him out of here if you notice that he needs it. Promise me.”
Flambae is confused. “Needs it like, emotionally? Or-“
“Promise. Me.” If she had been wearing the amulet, Flambae would bet money that her eyes would be glowing right now.
“Ok, ok!” He holds up both hands in surrender, coffee gone lukewarm in his hand. He’s slowly losing his appetite for it, and sets it on the nearest desk. “I promise, fuck.”
Robert, back within earshot, runs a hand through his auburn hair. “Hey, yeah so, why did Chase look scared as shit just now when he saw me?” He watches Mandy bite her lip and he looks to Flambae only to find his expression unreadable. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Just, come with me. And…I’m sorry, in advance.”
Turns out explaining caused a lot more confusion than relief, with Flambae pacing so much that dark scuff marks from where his shoes met the polished floor had begun to form, smoke rising from his shoulders. Robert is sitting in one of the many chairs they had in the conference room, hand over his mouth and eyes wide in quiet shock as he stares at the paused CCTV footage of Mecha Man falling out of the sky.
Not his Mech, but one he knew all too well. The teal paint job, even the silhouette of it, was unmistakably the Mecha Man Astral suit - but that didn’t make sense, that was his fathers suit.
And his fathers suit was destroyed.
“How is this possible? What am I even looking at?” Robert doesn’t recognize his own voice.
Mandy uncrosses her legs only to re-cross them from her spot across from the man. “Keep watching.” She says, eyes moving to where Flambae was standing behind him.
He reaches forward and does just that, unpausing and watching with rapt horror as the suit falls and -
‘Jesus, is that what I looked like?’ Robert knows that’s not him, knows he’s sitting in a plastic chair at SDN but panic grips his heart all the same.
He remembers the feeling all too well - the blast, the sensation of falling and not being able to stop it.
All he could think about was not wanting to die in that suit.
He feels a warm hand cover his own clammy one from where his hand had the chairs arms rest in a death grip, immediately loosening his hold and letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Flambae’s hand never leaves his.
They watch as the suit falls, smoke billowing out of the large Mech as it starts to twist and turn. They watch Prism's familiar light rays appear under the suit in an attempt to slow the descent, and then watch the Mech slam into them like crashing through layers of thin glass - shattering on impact. As the Mech reaches the ground they watch as a large mass of mud and water that could only be Golem and Waterboy working together catch the Mecha Man suit safely before depositing it onto the street below.
No explosion, no casualties. Robert lets out another breath and Flambae squeezes his hand. The footage stops there. Despite the mini panic attack he’s having, Robert feels his chest swell with pride for his team.
“So let me get this straight,” Robert says after a while of stunned silence and tries to keep the shakiness out of his voice, ” My team caught something that looks like my fathers suit falling out of the sky, and you brought it here?”
Mandy finally takes the moment to yank the clip from her brown hair and runs a hand through it. She looks exhausted.
“We thought you were in it, Robert. It looks just enough like your suit from a distance. After we recovered the Mech, that's when we noticed, well, one of the differences.” She presses two fingers to her temple and takes a deep breath.
“We’re not sure why, or even how this is possible at the moment, but, Robert, that looks like your fathers suit because it is your fathers suit. And…we recovered the pilot as well.”
The pilot.
Robert forgets how to breathe for a second. He knows it involves something to do with his lungs, and air.
Suddenly the conference room is too small, and he’s falling again and he can’t breathe, the lights are too bright and he can’t do this right now. The lights are flashing in his face, he’s losing consciousness because of how fast he’s falling and he can’t breathe.
He’s being picked up and flown out of the building before he can even register it.
Flambae extinguishes the flames from his feet and lands them safely on the roof of a building a block away from SDN, gently setting Robert down.
The wind carries fresh air into panicked lungs, and being outside helps Robert not feel so trapped. His breath hitches at the first deep breath he tries to take.
Someone’s talking to him, and the words filter back in as the world gets louder and quieter at the same time.
“-aby. Baby, Robert, hey. Deep breaths for me, ok? Nice and slow. That’s it.” The accented voice is doused in its own anxiety that Robert’s not used to hearing.
Flambae's standing with both of his hands on Robert’s shoulders to steady him, amber eyes bright with worry as they study his face. Irises like a crackling hearth that brings Robert back down to Earth.
“…Hey, Nasir.” It’s the quietest Robert’s sounded in a minute, and it makes Flambae’s heart clench.
“Hey, Azizam,” The word comes out soft,” You back? That was a lot."
“Where did I go?" Robert tries to joke - it doesn't land.
“Real funny, asshole.” Flambae says, not unkindly, and gives him a playful shove. The look of concern is still etched onto his tan face.
“Are you going to be alright? We can just ditch work today, let them figure this shit out, yeah?” Flambae says, trying to give Robert an out - they don’t have to go back.
Robert lets out a bone deep sigh. “As nice as that sounds, I don’t think I can run away from this.” He looks past Flambae’s shoulder to where he knows the SDN building; to where he knows his past is waiting for him.
“Alright,” The other man concedes, “ But if you have another panic attack I’m flying us home and hiding you away to watch Below Deck until you fall asleep.” The sentiment makes Robert smile, panic finally dissolving from his shoulders.
“If I don’t, can we still do that and get takeout from that place I like?” The latter asks only for his partner to scoff.
“Duh. What do I look like, an asshole?”
.
The room outside of one of the only holding cells at SDN was small enough without ten super humans shoved into it. Eleven, counting Mandy who was looking like she’s had better days and Robert, who was trying his best not to look at the two way mirror and at the man he hasn’t seen in years.
“I’m sorry, you want to let ‘Mr. Daddy Issues’ over there go in there alone to talk to his real, actual father?” Flambae presses, pointing over at where Robert stands against the wall.
The man in question fixes Flambae with a glare. “Hey-”
Mandy interrupts Robert’s rebuttal and raises the manila folder in her hand. Royd had done a complex analysis on Robbie since arriving at SDN, and a scan from the Mecha Man suit confirmed the possibility that it was, in fact, all tech dated back to at least 2003 but with enough differences to raise alarm.
“Technically not his father.” She taps the folder against the two-way glass window separating the Z Team from Mecha Man Astral. “Royd’s hypothesis is that whatever sent him here, did so outside of our timeline. We won’t know for sure unless someone speaks to him.”
The man in question was sitting at the interrogation table fiddling with the hem of his suit by his wrist, back straight. He seems to know the mirror is two way by how he’s glaring daggers into it, the Mecha Man cowl still pulled over his face.
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.” The hothead grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Pfft, yeah Mr. ‘‘disobeyed a direct order.’’ “ Invisigal helpfully supplies, much to Robert’s headache. She just smirks at him. “Real swell idea. I thought SDN’s insurance didn’t cover therapy?”
"Just mine apparently.” The dispatcher deadpans, staring off into space.
“W-Wait, you guys have insurance?” Waterboy speaks up.
“Anyways,” Mandy cuts in. “He has been completely unreceptive to anyone else that has gone in to talk with him - myself included. He’s convinced that we’re working with whoever sent him here. I think Robert’s the only one who can convince him otherwise.”
The Z team watches as Robert presses his hands against his eyes with a groan. “It just keeps getting better. So, what, I’m supposed to go in there and say ‘Hey dad, how’s it going?’”
“I mean to start, we could just see if he recognizes you at all. We may not have to play it like that if you aren’t his son, to him at least.” Mandy has a point but for some reason that idea hurts worse than his dad not recognizing him. He files it away for later.
“Wow.” Robert deadpans. “ I think Visi has a point about the whole therapy thing.”
Mandy shoots him a pleading look. “I know this is hard, and that this is an impossible thing to ask of you. But when he came through the portal, other things came with him too. Downtown is containing it, but they could use all the intel we could get from the guy that brought them here.”
A beat passes, and Mandy takes a deep breath before continuing - words rushing out.
“- And this may be a bad time to mention it, but all of LA thinks you're the one who did this. So when we’re through here, we need to get you on the air as soon as possible to address the public.”
“What the fuck?” Robert’s off the wall in seconds.
“All they saw was Mecha Man, and all the footage from civilizations is too blurry to be discernible -thankfully that works in our favor. Not sure how well two Mecha Men would go over for some people. “ Mandy explains.
He can’t help it, rage kicks in Robert’s chest. Dead for years and his father still manages to fuck up his life.
“Fine,” Robert’s voice is as cold and steely as his namesake, “But I’m doing this my way.” He reaches for the folder in Mandy’s hands and she passes it to him without another word.
The team watches helplessly as Robert scans his badge against the door, and steps into the interrogation room.
…
Robbie Robertson the Second can’t quite place why the man that enters the room is so familiar to him.
He scans him quickly as he enters; average height, skinny build. The only discernible part of that that’s mildly threatening are the scars criss-crossing both arms but apart from that - typical office guy. Blue dress shirt tucked into brown pants, ID badge attached to his hip. Auburn hair. Huh. He tries to peek at the badge for the name but the man is sitting down across from him with a huff before he gets the chance.
He tosses a manila folder onto the metal table in front of him, it slides a little before stopping in front of his cuffed hands.
“If you think you’re any better at negotiating than that woman that was in here all morning, I’d love to hear it.” Robbie says, all steel and apprehension. Cowl still in place, dark brown eyes all business.
All Mecha Man.
The man sighs, leaning back in his chair and presses fingers to his temple. “I have a feeling that this will go over differently, that’s for sure.” His voice is deeper than expected, a rough monotone. He has his eyes closed as if mentally preparing himself for something.
When they open, it hits Mecha Man Astral like a train. Recognition. The man’s eyes are brown, softer than his own but he would recognize them anywhere.
The same eyes used to look at him with awe, with adoration and trepidation.
His most recent memory flashes in his mind - his son, crying and bloody on the ground in Chase's arms, seconds after the Mech suit blasted a hole through his ear.
'‘Get up. Stop crying, Robertsons don’t cry.’’
His son was saying something - his son - he has the folder open and is flipping through the pages, his words muffled as Robbie’s thoughts raced.
This is Robert - the eyes, his mother's hair. The hole in his left ear, fully healed. The last time he saw him, he was thirteen. Barely a teenager, too young to face the reality of the world as it was. But here - he had to at least be in his early thirties - and if the scars that he could see were anything to go off, he was well aware of his place in the world.
“How is this possible?” Robbie mumbles.
“Hmm, well, for starters I would say that strange portal monsters tend to cause a bunch of damage, you know, statistically.” Robert says, unimpressed. He hasn’t bothered to look up from the damage report in front of him.
Robbie can tell the whole nonchalant attitude is an act, by the way his fingers tap against the folder where he holds it and the way he’s obviously trying not to look at him.
Robert recognizes him, too.
After a beat passes, Robbie raises his cuffed hands to his son. “Is this necessary?”
“Just protocol, you understand.” Robert says, flicking a page in the folder.
“Sure, maybe if I was a villain.” Mecha Man Astral sneers, “But you know who I am, don’t you?”
The comment seems to fully get Robert’s attention. His eyes narrow before he closes the folder and gently places it down onto the table, taking a deep inhale.
“I’m not sure that I do.” Robert starts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you tell me? You can explain how you got here, too, while you stroke your own ego.”
Robbie grimaces at the phrase but concedes. He explains everything - the fight with the villain, the strange portal, the missing Astral Pulse. Being caught by a team of people before his Mech crashed into the ground, surely saving his life. He watched Robert nod, taking it all in.
“Yeah, a fall like that…it’s hard to bounce back from.” Robert says, in a way that alludes to him knowing exactly how it feels to fall a thousand miles out of the sky. “Glad my team was there to help.”
That makes Robbie pause.
“Your team? I was told I was saved by a couple of redeemed supervillains - if those even exist - don’t tell me there’s more and that you’re…what? Their keeper?”
Villains? Saving Mecha Man? Please.
Robert feels anger rise in him, hot and fluid in his veins.
“Oh, I’m sorry, you’d have preferred slamming into the 405?” Robert snarks. “Should we bring them in and apologize for saving your life?”
Mecha Man scoffs, all bravado. “I would’ve figured it out.”
Robert barks out a laugh, “Oh, yeah, I’m sure you would’ve gotten very far before the Mech crashed and blew you up along with it.”
Robbie’s eyes narrow. “What are you, an expert on them blowing up?”
Robert's voice doesn't waver. “Yes, actually. Look, I know when your minds made up it’s impossible to change it, but you should be fucking grateful someone was there. God knows no one was there when it happened to me.” He raises a hand to run through his hair, eyes distant.
“Be that as it may,” and Robert already recognizes that tone in his father’s voice, disapproval evident, “I didn’t need the help of a couple of ex-cons no doubt working for the son of a bitch that sent me here - wherever here is.”
“Okay, one,” Robert holds a finger up, voice tight. “Clearly you did, because trust me when I say you would not be sitting here right now if they hadn't stepped up to help you. And two, if we all worked for the fucker who sent you here, do you think we’d be wasting time with all this fucking talking in circles shit?”
Robbie thinks for a second, eyebrows knitting together under the cowl. “Just thought you were all shit at being intimidating.”
“Ok, how’s this for intimidating,” Robert starts, tapping his fingers against the table. “If you want any help from my team, SDN, or myself, then you’re going to cooperate with us. I will not tolerate any more disrespect towards them - or anyone for that matter. I don’t care about who you are; I’m Mecha Man now, and you’ll do as I say. Or you’re on your own.” Robert stands, gathers the folder into his hand, and makes his way towards the door. He gives a final glance over his shoulder; badge pressed against the reader.
“Great talk, dad.” His tone suggests otherwise, sentiment falling flat. “Let’s do it again sometime.”
The silence is deafening as the door clicks shut.
Robbie isn’t sure what to think, but he figures he doesn’t have much to lose. He has to trust this his son's word on this, but he refuses to do it sitting down and out of the way.
“Alright well, that sure was something else.” The woman from earlier is back, her features hardened as she glares at him from the doorway. “Follow me, since you’ve been deemed a non-threat, I’ll be showing you where you’ll be staying until we figure something out.”
Turns out he’ll be staying in a hotel not even a block away from their building, and when she hands him the keys and a spare pair of clothes to change into, he’s on his own.
The first rule of business, he decides, is to find the Astral Pulse. He also has to figure out where they hid his Mech, but he thinks it can wait for now - it doesn't work without the Pulse. After wandering down a hallway on the way out of the building, he stumbles upon a room labeled ‘Records Room.’
The door is not locked; he scoffs at the lack of security and once inside It doesn’t take him long to filter through the mass amounts of recorded tapes until he finds records labelled with ‘R. Robertson.’ ‘Confidential’ written on one case grabs his attention and he plops the disc into a nearby computer - an old enough model that he recognizes - and hit’s play.
The footage starts in a press room, the camera set far back enough to see a crowd of reporters and a podium. He watches as a man shuffles up onto the stage, camera lights flashing. He shuffles a couple pages in hand before speaking.
“There’s been a lot of speculation about my health and the state of the Mecha Man suit and I’m here to put that speculation to rest.” Robbie notes that Robert’s arm is in a sling and that he sounds considerably defeated when he addresses the public.
“The suit has been damaged beyond my ability to repair so I will be stepping back from superhero work, effective immediately." The cameras flash again as the reporters start shouting questions in his direction.
“Does this mean you’re finished?"
“How badly were you hurt?”
“Does this mean you’re going to stop being Mecha Man?”
Robbie Robertson the Second watches it all, before pocketing the tape and slipping out of the room.