Chapter Text
Robert froze outside of Blonde Blazer’s office, hand raised to knock, when the door swung open on its own. He and the Suit on the other side stared at each other before Robert remembered his manners and stepped aside.
“Sorry,” he said, more out of a habit than politeness.
The Suit huffed, straightened his jacket, and walked past without a word. Something about the way he walked, like he had way too much money and not enough problems to throw it at, unsettled Robert. Like he’d just come face-to-face with a supervillain that needed a good punch to the face, except he very much doubted any self-respecting villain would dare step foot in Blonde Blazer’s office — let alone be allowed to leave.
He looked through the doorway to find Blonde Blazer caught in what appeared to be a stress spiral with her head in her hands. She hadn’t even noticed him standing there. He took the still open door as an invitation and stepped inside, clearing his throat as he shut the door behind him.
Blonde Blazer shot up. “Oh, it’s you,” she breathed, relaxing as she registered who wanted her attention.
Robert raised an eyebrow. “Ouch.”
Blonde Blazer sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
She grabbed several open folders in front of her, closing each one and stacking them on top of one another. Robert resisted the urge to approach her desk quickly to take a peak, figuring if he was supposed to know, she would tell him. The two of them had developed a seamless working relationship over the course of the last few months, becoming something akin to confidants.
“Everything okay?” he asked, sinking into one of chairs positioned across from the renowned superhero. “You look stressed.”
“It’s… it’s nothing.” She tapped the stack against the desk, straightening out the pile, before pausing. Her shoulders sagged. The files hit the desk, sliding out and ruining the perfect order once more. “Actually, it’s not nothing. It’s… the worst.”
“The worst?” Robert repeated. “The worst as in Shroud has escaped from prison?”
“No, not that.”
“The worst as in Sonar was caught up in a drug bust and now we have to bail him out of jail?”
“No, not that, though we really need to talk to that guy.”
“Later. The worst as in Phenomaman is holding up rush hour traffic again in hopes of winning you back?”
“Oh God.” The horror on Blonde Blazer’s face told Robert that was probably not the case, but the sight was enough to make the guess worth it. “I sure hope not!”
“Alright, I’m running out of guesses here, Blazer,” he said. “You gotta throw me a bone if you want me to figure it out all on my own.”
“I don’t. It’s just… if I say it aloud, it’ll make it more real,” she admitted.
Now Robert was truly concerned.
Blonde Blazer was the paragon of goodness, patience, and optimism. Well, maybe not always that last one, but she certainly didn’t make it a habit of falling into pessimism, not like this. Yet the expression upon her face as she leaned back to stare forlornly out the office windows reeked of depression.
“You’re starting to worry me,” he said. “What’s going on? Who was that guy?”
“Nathan Chen,” she murmured. “Head of the Board of Directors for SDN, specifically the western division.”
“Wow, big fish.”
He tried to sound impressed, but he wasn’t. If anything, it just made him like the guy even less. Whatever the guy had to say couldn’t be anything good, and it definitely had nothing to do with hero work or protecting the public. Those types only got into this line of business for the money, nothing else.
“Yeah…”
“So, what did he want?” Robert’s gaze flickered down to the scattered folders. He quickly took in the headers on at least three, and his expression darkened as he recognized the names. “Does he have something to say against the Z-Team?”
Blonde Blazer startled. “What? No!” She scrambled to pull the stack closer, not exactly screaming subtlety as she went out of her way to hide the headings of the furthest folders with her palm. “Not… exactly.”
“Mandy…”
The personal name halted Blonde Blazer in her tracks. Robert didn’t cross that line with his boss lightly, not since the day she opened up to him about her secret identity. He always held that he would never compromise her trust in that way, so it was probably a little callous to pull it out now. However, he had a feeling this situation warranted a jerk back to reality, a reminder that Blonde Blazer was also just Mandy, and she did not have to carry her burdens alone.
“Well… crap.” She blew out a breath between her lips, causing her bangs to fan in the wind and collapse back onto her forehead. “The Board, they’re… cutting funding.”
Robert furrowed his eyebrows. “Cutting funding? Why? We’re one of the most successful hero agencies in the city. You’re one of the most successful heroes in the state!”
“The amount of damage Shroud caused to the city has put a lot of pressure on the Board,” she explained. “City officials are talking about renegotiating contracts, possibly pushing through more superhero laws, so that we’re liable for the damage we couldn’t prevent—”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
“I wish I were. Bottom line is, none of the shareholders are willing to experience a pay cut. None of the Board wants to deal with it either, so it’s trickling down to us.”
“The heroes who are actually doing the fucking job.”
Robert wasn’t always so crass, not at work, especially not in front of Blonde Blazer, but he figured this was warranted. Given the complete lack of reaction, he was right.
“Exactly. And they are looking specifically at the Phoenix Program.”
A chill ran down Robert’s spine. “The Z-Team has been doing damn good work, Blazer. You know it. I know it. They are good heroes.”
“I’m not arguing that, Robert,” Blonde Blazer said. “It wasn’t my choice. This is above my paygrade—”
“Nothing should be above your paygrade!” he interjected. “You’re Blonde fucking Blazer for God’s sake!”
“Robert.”
The stern tone halted him in his tracks. He hadn’t even realized he’d stood, palms pressed firmly on the edge of her desk, growing loud and heated over something… that she really had no control over. Feeling adequately ashamed of himself, Robert hung his head and let out a hefty sigh. “So what can we do?”
Blonde Blazer shrugged. “I really don’t know. Right now, it’s all theoretical. I don’t think they’re going to cut the program entirely, but some sort of cuts are probably coming. I’m just already dreading what that will look like.”
A sickening thought entered Robert’s head, and he raised his eyeline to look Blonde Blazer in the eye. “Are we going to have to cut somebody again?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” she declared, but the strength did not last very long, as a second later, she added in a smaller voice, “but I’m not sure I will have the final word.” She gave him a tight smile. “Sorry, was that it? I really need to get back to work.”
Robert couldn’t remember what he initially wanted to talk with Blonde Blazer about.
His mind whirled with the new information, the new impending threats. He wanted to say something about how he didn’t want to lose any of his people, how he couldn’t cut someone again — look how well that worked out last time. He wanted to fight for his team. But Blonde Blazer looked exhausted. Even beneath the magic concealment making her look a million bucks, dark shadows were starting to show. Robert understood all too well how an overworked system and trying to put LA back together could do that to a person. So, he just nodded and headed out.
Galen looked up as he passed. “Logging on?”
Robert ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, yeah…”
Galen pulled an earphone off to give his full attention, his gaze flickering from Blonde Blazer’s office door and back to Robert’s face, trying to put two and two together. “Everything alright…?”
Robert held up his hands. “Not my place to say.”
Galen clicked his tongue. “That bad, huh?”
Robert said nothing, but that was enough of an answer itself. Pausing by Chase’s old desk, he rested a hand on the back of the empty chair. The computer was gone, replaced with a little memorial. Robert had expected someone else to take Chase’s place. The dispatch center always needed more operators, plus Chase would’ve found this sentimental bullshit embarrassing. But Robert was glad for it.
Even if the “Get back to work, motherfuckers!” sign seemed a little insensitive.
He sat at his desk and gave Beef a few apologetic scritches for leaving him all by himself for a few minutes before grabbing his headphones. The system booted up, and he frowned when he saw only Punch Up logged in.
He hit the call button, “Where the hell is everybody?”
“They’re here,” Punch Up said in his Irish lilt. “Just still getting ready in the locker room. We’re all moving a little slow.”
Robert pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “We’re already behind schedule.”
“Behind schedule?” Punch Up said. “Gee, boss, y’don’t say? It’s not like we all had to stay two hours past shift yesterday to help with the coliseum cleanup. Without overtime, by the way!”
In the distance, he heard Prism’s voice cut through Punch Up’s mic, “Which is still bullshit!”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But don’t talk to me about it.” He almost finished that statement with ‘talk to the higher ups’, but then he thought of Blonde Blazer’s stressed out expression, and the words died in his throat. “You know there’s nothing I can do.”
“What about the fancy dude in the suit?” Punch Up asked. “I saw him when I was coming in. Thought about asking him for a raise right to his face.”
“Why would some random guy in a suit give you a raise?” Flambae asked, his voice muffled through the distance. “He should give me a raise. I bet I could get him to give me a raise, if you know what I mean.”
“Nobody ask the guy in the suit for a raise,” Robert requested.
A chime sounded from the computer, and Robert glanced down to see Coupe had logged on.
“Robert,” she said in that cool calm voice of hers, “why was there a man in a fancy suit in the building? Was he an assassin? Should I handle it?”
“Not an assassin,” Robert said, but he pointedly didn’t tell her not to handle it. Part of him wished she would. “It has nothing to do with any of you.” He winced, hating the lie, and corrected himself, “Yet.”
“The fuck?” Punch Up exclaimed.
Following Coupe repeating Robert’s words, he wasn’t too surprised when several dings sounded in succession as the rest of the Z-Team finally logged on. He pulled the headphones away from his ears, saving himself the pain as they all started to talk at once. He waited patiently for the excitement to quiet down before he let the headphones snap back into place.
“I don’t want to lie to any of you,” he said, and the second he spoke, silence answered, letting him have full control of the situation. Which was so strange. It wasn’t so long ago that none of the Z-Team cared an iota about what he had to say. Now, he got to be the bearer of bad news. He almost wished they would cut him off like old times, but they didn’t. “There have been a few proposed budget cuts. I’m sure you all have heard rumors.”
“Oh, man, not again…” Sonar said.
“That’s not going to happen,” Malevola said. “Robert, tell him that’s not going to happen.”
“Nothing is happening. Not yet anyway, so there’s no use in stressing about it.” As if that was going to help. The team needed cold hard reassurance, but with nothing substantial to give, he couldn’t even do that. He tried to push aside the guilt as he brought up the different windows needed to help with today’s shift. “We just need to focus on doing the best job we can and helping as many people as possible while we can. Everything else is out of our hands. Sonar, what is this about you being out of the office tomorrow?”
“Robert, are you going senile?” Flambae asked.
“Dude, he totally forgot,” Golem said.
“I’m sure Robert doesn’t mean to be so insensitive,” Coupe said. “It’s just his natural state. I sympathize.”
“No, no, h-he’s just got a lot on his mind!” Waterboy said.
Robert dropped his face into his palm, realizing his mistake a second too late. “Never mind, Sonar. I’ve got it. Are you going to test clean tomorrow?”
“If you need my piss, I’ve got you,” Malevola said.
“Thanks, Mal. But I’m clean. I’m a new bat! I told you I wouldn’t fuck up another probation appointment, and I won’t.”
Robert rubbed his forehead, feeling less reassured than when he began.
“Would Malevola’s piss even work?” Punch Up wondered. “Seeing how you’re not, you know…”
Malevola scoffed. “Human?”
“Yeah, that! He might be better off going with our Boy Scout’s piss instead.”
“I am also not human,” Phenomaman said.
“Our other Boy Scout,” Punch Up corrected.
“O-oh…” Waterboy gave a nervous laugh. “I guess I could…?”
“We are not handing out piss to help Sonar pass his drug test,” Robert said. “Is everybody ready to go?”
“Waterboy’s piss would probably be too watered down anyway,” Prism said. “Ain’t nobody going to believe that shit belongs to Sonar. Oh, what about you, Visi? You’re dirty enough without being a cokehead, right?”
“Huh?”
Robert froze as his girlfriend’s voice came through the mic. It wasn’t like her to be this quiet, but he hadn’t realized it until she finally spoke up. Now that she had, he didn’t like it one bit. Her voice sounded off, but he couldn’t place why.
“Oh, yeah, sure, you need my piss, I got you,” she finished in normal Invisigal fashion.
Not that Robert bought it for a second. But addressing it over comms was absolutely not the right call. He made a mental note to check in with her over lunch if they had the time and after work if not.
“Alright, listen up. First call coming in. Vis and Golem, you are headed to…”
—
The calls were relentless, the same as they had been since Shroud’s coordinated attack months ago. Too many infrastructures had been decimated that night, and they were still dealing with the aftermath. Some of that included lawsuits, legit and frivolous, and lots of money. Budget cuts weren’t exactly surprising considering all of that.
Robert pulled his headphones off.
They’d gone over shift again. He glanced at the clock and grimaced. This time by almost three hours. He never felt right clocking out while any of the Z-Team was still out working, and their squad had grown so tight that nobody clocked out without the rest.
On one hand, it was admirable. On the other, how was he going to break it to them that this was going to be another day of zero overtime?
After all, according to the higher ups, they couldn’t afford it. Which was fine. They could work with no overtime pay, less money for materials and equipment. They would make do. Last Robert checked, Royd was set up fairly well down in mechanics for a while to come, especially now that he wasn’t wasting so many resources on rebuilding Mecha Man.
The problem was the people. As in there simply weren’t enough of them. They were constantly stretched thin, even with Blonde Blazer allowing the Z-Team two extra members. There simply weren’t enough hours in the day — or night — and each hero could only do so much. Maybe he was being too cautious, making sure everybody had backup as often as possible, but he didn’t want to lose anyone else.
Robert gathered Beef into his arms and stood, regarding Chase’s shrine with a heavy heart. Once not too long ago, Chase’s wisdom had been to just cut everybody and not take their failures so personally, but the words rang hollow now. After all, Chase hadn’t felt that way in the end. No, when the end came, he chose it with dignity and surrounded by the same motherfuckers he once cursed but came to call friends.
If things continued the way it seemed they were going, Robert didn’t think he had the stomach for a personnel cutback. He didn’t want to lose anyone, not now, not after everything they had all been through together. Ignoring the bonds they forged in the fire, if they felt stretched thin now, he could only imagine how much worse it would be with a man down.
Carrying Beef into the locker room, Robert found the Z-Team in various states of exhaustion and undress as they readied to head out. He intended to come and congratulate them on a good shift, but his morose mood followed. The rumors plus his expression meant few smiles greeted him. Robert surveyed his team with a sense of helplessness.
Who would be the first to go if it came down to it? He couldn’t imagine the Z-Team without each and every one of them.
“Good work tonight, team,” Robert said, forcing a smile. “Go home, get some rest, and we’ll do it all again tomorrow.”
“Home? Rest? Screw that!” Prism looked tired — hell, all of them did — but she still had enough energy to have a pep in her step. Or in her four-inch high stiletto boots as it were. “There’s still a few hours left until midnight. I’m going to go see Diego.”
“You’re seeing him again?” Flambae asked. “And you still won’t let me meet him?”
“I say we should all meet him,” Punch Up added. “See if he lives up to scrutiny. What do you say, Robert?”
Robert tried to attach to their jovial bantering and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Prism, you’ve got a new man in your life?”
Prism smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know? And I am keeping his ass as far away from all of you as possible.”
“You’re such a bitch,” Flambae pouted.
“You know it!”
“I say we raid his house,” Golem said.
“As long as he invites us in,” Phenomaman added. “It would be impolite otherwise.”
“Dude, who would invite you in to raid their house?” Sonar asked. “Though if Coupe asked…”
“Leave me out of this.” Coupe swooped up her leather jacket and pulled it on. “We good to head out?”
“Yeah, no, have a good night,” Robert said, stepping aside so he wasn’t blocking the door.
Coupe spared Beef a few pets on her way out, and everybody else slowly followed suit until only Invisigal sat alone on the bench. She stared off into space, hands braced on either side of her, taking slow measured breaths. Robert approached and took in her pale complexion.
“Vis,” he said softly as not to startle her, “you alright?”
Invisigal stirred. “Hm? Yeah, just peachy.”
That only made Robert frown deeper. “Well… why don’t I take you home? You look dead on your feet, and it hasn’t been that long since you came back—”
“Oh my God, you are such a Nervous Nancy.” Invisigal’s usual attitude attempted to come through, but it was dulled by the hooded look upon her face. “I’m fine. Just tired. And I think I’m getting sick or something.”
At once, Robert was pulled in two directions. The boyfriend side of him wanted to comfort and take care of the girl he was rapidly falling in love with. The supervisor side of him recoiled at the thought of having someone call out, let alone that someone potentially getting the entire team sick right when things were at their most stressful. He managed to squash that second half down before he put himself in the doghouse.
“You need to take care of yourself,” Robert said. “Your body went through a trauma, and your immune system is probably still playing catch up.”
Invisigal forced a small smile. “Thanks, Doc.”
Robert smiled back. “No problem. That’ll be thirty-five thousand dollars.”
“Hmmm…” Invisigal stood and looped her arms around Robert’s neck. “How about a roll in the hay instead?”
Robert grabbed her wrists, disentangling them. “Tempting… but a lot less tempting when you just told me you’re sick, so rain check.”
Invisigal rolled her eyes and scratched Beef under the chin. “Fine. I guess that means I’m spending the night at my own place. Alone.”
“My offer for a ride still stands,” Robert said.
“That’s not the kind of ride I want, Robert,” she shot back.
Robert chuckled as he watched Invisigal saunter out the door. The only signs of her feeling a little off was when she caught the doorframe on the way out. She bypassed Blonde Blazer, and the two women shared a nod before Invisigal disappeared.
“I wasn’t interrupting, was I?” Blonde Blazer asked.
Robert shook his head. “No. I was just offering her a ride home.”
Blonde Blazer gave him a skeptical look. “Really?”
“Scout’s honor,” Robert said. “We keep things very professional at work.”
“What restraint,” Blonde Blazer teased. “I didn’t know Courtney had it in her.”
Robert’s lips quirked at that. You have no idea. “You heading out?”
“I was, but I thought I heard something about someone being sick?” When Robert looked a bit surprised, Blonde Blazer winced and touched her amulet. “Sorry, sorry, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop! Some things just slip through, especially when the words are terrifying. Like illness and plague. Please tell me I shouldn’t expect a bunch of people to call in sick soon—”
“Relax,” Robert said, and Beef yipped in agreement. “I’m sure it’s just a stomach bug or a cold. She didn’t look like she felt well, but I doubt she’s about to take down the entire Z-Team with a headache.”
“Depends on the headache.”
Mr. Whiskey was one of the last day shift employees still hanging around as they exited the locker room, and the cat mascot raised his mug in farewell.
Robert gave a polite smile and wave. “‘Night, Whiskey. See you tomorrow.”
“Night,” Blonde Blazer echoed him. She waited until they rounded the corner before she continued, “Man, he’s a weird one, huh?”
Robert thought of the spiked coffee that saved him from going insane just a few months ago and gave a little shrug. “He’s alright. Who are we to judge?”
Blonde Blazer chuckled. “True that.”
Together, they walked out of SDN and down to the parking lot. Blonde Blazer walked Robert to his 1995 Honda Civic, bought off of Facebook Marketplace for $300, and tutted — as she always did — while regarding the hunk of junk. Robert ignored the obvious judgement and fished his keys from his pocket.
“You hear anything else?” he asked.
Blonde Blazer pulled her eyes away from scrutinizing the scratched paint. “From the Board? No, not yet. I shouldn’t have even told you anything, but I guess it was bound to get out one way or another.”
“How worried are you?” he asked hesitantly.
“A healthy amount,” she admitted. “But right now, I’m more worried about being shorthanded tomorrow. Sonar has a meeting with his probation officer—”
“I remember.”
“And if he fails another drug test, you’ll be losing him, budget cuts or no,” Blonde Blazer said, “and we can’t really deal with that right now. Plus, I was hoping to steal Waterboy away for some hero training—”
“He would greatly benefit from it.”
“—which would remove another body from the field. Are you sure?”
Robert thought about Waterboy, so green, so new, but with so much potential. Was it really fair to keep him out of the classroom just because they were short-staffed? The pragmatic part of him wanted to say: Yes! Experience is the best teacher anyway! But he didn’t, because apparently he wasn’t that much of an asshole just yet.
“Yeah, I’m sure. He’ll be great.”
“Alright, then I’ll schedule it. Oh, and text Courtney and tell her to rest, drink plenty of fluids — not alcohol — and that you love her. And flowers. Flowers always make a girl feel better.”
Robert grinned. “Noted. Night, Mandy.”
“Night, Robert.”