Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Robert flinched from the loud crash he heard as Royd loaded his suit into the truck outside. “Faka...” Royd cursed, leaning down to pick up the leg piece he dropped.

 

“Whoa, woah, woah, woah— Hey, what are you doing??” Robert yelled from his balcony, making sure he box he was holding wasn't over he ledge in case he dropped it.

 

“Bruddah, your warranty... Already void.” Royd grumbled as he tossed the thing inside.

 

Robert made it downstairs pretty quickly, his socks getting dirty thanks to his having no time to put on shoes. “How can you just toss it around like that?” He huffs,

 

“No worries, I pretty strong.” Royd shrugs.

 

“That's not what I'm saying.” Robert sets the box in his hands inside the truck.

 

“How you got dis ting inside your apartment anyways? Supah heavy the buggah.” Royd points out, earning a pointed look from Robert before he gestures at the man himself, compared to the whole suit... Yeah, it was pretty hard to believe Robert did any type of work by himself.

 

“I disassembled it and took it in little pieces, which is what I thought you'd be doing.”

 

“Ah, and how long dat take you?”

 

“Three or... No, it was four days.”

 

Royd raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. “I get 20 minutes.”

 

The two make it back upstairs then into Robert's apartment, having a slightly one-sided discussion along the way.

 

“Evy time I walk in dis place, I get sad. That not happen to you?” Royd points out, glancing around the empty room. “No one ever tell you that? Or, no one even come ovah to tell you that.”

 

“I'm poor, Royd. Is that what you wanna hear? Does that make you feel good?” Robert points out, earning an eyeroll from Royd.

 

“Nah, bruddah. You not poor if you could keep the suit going. Like, uhh... Where you sleep?”

 

“Er.. We're figuring that out.”

 

“Ha, you're figuring that out, huh? So, even da Beef got a bed... Dis the type of apartment you see when the detective kick the door in, yknow.”

 

Robert was a little sick of the jokes made at his expense so he basically tuned Royd out.

 

“...Where the astral pulse at?” Royd questions when Robert approaches Beef's bed, which in reality was a pillow. He noticed how inactive Beef had become. Usually, the little guy would be following him up and down the apartment, pretending like he's helping by almost tripping Robert over many times... Though now he was just lying in bed.

 

“I lost it in the blast while I was flying. No clue where it landed... I spent a couple of weeks after it happened trying to track it down.”

 

“It power the 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 suit.” Royd pointed out.

 

“Yeah, it's the only piece of the suit my dad didn't have schematics for... Is that going to be a problem?” Robert asks, getting pretty discouraged pretty quickly.

 

“Eh, minor. We figure 'em out.”

 

Robert's attention returns to Beef after the confirmation. He had barely touched his food this morning, just pushing it around in his plate with his snout.

 

“Hey buddy,” Robert murmurs, Royd steps out with the box of components. “You alright?” He questioned. Beef rolled over thanks to the tone of Robert's voice, which quickly earned him belly rubs. That is, until Robert paused, feeling a small mass at his stomach, beneath his skin. Beef whimpered when Robert applied pressure, scooting away from him.

 

Maybe it was benign. God knows how many hours Robert spent before, making google searches on any kind of condition, Beef had to make sure he wasn't dying... Or that he wouldn't end up with a huge vet bill for something like a tummy ache. This did seem pretty serious though, plus, he knew he shouldn't risk it. He'd take beef to the vet just before work. It would probably take a couple of minutes, and Chase could cover for him... Hopefully.

 

“Cmere,” He whispered, a slight quiver in his voice he hadn't noticed. Everything was stressing him out, the last thing he needed was a sick dog.

 

Trembling hands picked Beef up, avoiding that particular spot before putting his pillow into an empty box, then plopping him on top.

 

The drive over doesn't take too long... Even if the mere minutes felt like years passing him by as Beef shifted uncomfortably in his lap, whining from the discomfort.

 

When he's back at work, watching Royd unload the Mecha suit inside, he takes a second to reconsider. The countless "what if"s flowing through his mind, Robert felt nauseous. Everything felt wrong, especially with how tired Beef was.

 

He barely makes it to Royd's workstation before immediately backing out, knowing he needed to take care of his dog first and foremost.

 

“I'm... I need to go.”

 

“What? Go where— I'm gunna show you how your suit repair shud go, you...”

 

“I need to go, Royd. I'll be back later, just... Give me a minute.” He huffed, it wouldn't take long... If anything, the vet would be more entertaining to Beef rather than making him tag along during his shift.

 

So there he was, in a waiting room with his dog in a box, in his lap. His eyes kept wandering over to the other sick pets, worried owners and the weird posters promising to help the pets in whatever way possible and— God, it was too much.

 

Thankfully it didn't take long for him to be called back. Beef was placed on the examination table, and the vet kept prodding and poking at his stomach, trying to find the lump Robert mentioned. Eventually, he does, before Robert is asked to step outside so he can do a proper checkout.

 

Beef howled the entire time, mournful, high-pitched cries at the assumption that Robert abandoned him here. It happened every single time he was taken to the vet, it wasn't any different now. His mind ran through countless possibilities, different ways in which he would be told the news and at most, there were 2 versions of a good scenario. Either it's benign or Beef just ate something bad and it's stuck in his stomach, even if he knew that wasn't the case.

 

He barely fed the poor guy anything that wasn't certifiably dog-safe or specifically made for dogs. Sure, he'd slip him lunch meat from his own food whenever he started begging, even so, processed meat wasn't going to harm him... Right?The check-up felt like it was taking forever, and it probably was. A little more than 30 minutes probably passed while he kept digging himself a deeper grave, thinking he was the cause of all this.

 

His chest felt like it was tightening, making every heart beat feel like it was tearing through him, his left leg was bouncing up and down, don't even get started on the sweating. Maybe it was because he was too poor and dumb to buy himself deodorant but he swears he never sweat this much before.

 

Essentially, Robert was spiraling. He didn't have the time to do that, especially because God knows how many times his team has called. He had put his phone on dnd the second he got here, thanks to the texts he received from Blonde Blazer asking for a favor. Sure, it was selfish; she gave him the damn job, but he didn't care about it right now. He didn't care about anything right now; he just wanted to know that Beef would be okay.

 

“Robert... Robertson?” The front desk lady called “Stupid ass name.” She murmured under her breath, yet he heard it pretty clearly. He made his way up to her, biting his tongue, while she just gestured towards the vet's office.

 

Beef was inside a crate, sleeping peacefully.

 

Robert was relieved to see him, even if he was probably asleep thanks to anesthesia. He barely noticed how the howling stopped earlier, and damn, was his mouth dry. He could barely form a sentence, let alone a thought.

 

“He seems alright for the most part... He does have splenomegaly, but it doesn't show huge signs of cancer,” The vet explains.

 

“Huge... What? So, because his cancer isn't huge, you think he's alright? What if it grows?”

 

“That's the thing. We would like you to bring him back here for observation if it does grow. Getting it out now could cause a billion health issues down the line.”

 

“And getting it out later might be too late. I can't just— He needs me.” I need him, goes unsaid.

 

The vet sighs, looking Robert up and down for a second. “Look, I'm not trying to come off the wrong way, but I'm trying to help you, give you a second to reconsider because... If I take the clump of cells out now, who knows if they'll grow back. If I take them out later, it's almost fully guaranteed you won't need another visit here besides general checkups, which you've already been skipping.”

 

Robert shifts in place; the place already feels stuffy, and he hates all sorts of hospitals. And now either he finished this shit up now, took his dog home and nursed him back to health, or he came back later with an even more exhausted dog.

 

“He's a good dog, a fighter. I guarantee he'll survive at least a couple more years, and you could add onto those. Just... Tolerate a few more weeks with him, and when you bring him back, we'll immediately begin his treatment; he'll be good as new.”

 

“...Fine.” Robert nodded, making his way over to the kennel where Beef was kept. He unlatched the door and carried him out, cradling him.

 

It took him a while to make it back to work. When he did, he got an earful from Chase and silent disappointment from Blonde Blazer. Chase quickly forgot about his anger when he saw Beef, who was still a little sleepy when Robert set him on top of the desk. He set up his pillow in the corner beneath his desk before helping him down and letting him sleep for a little longer.

 

Of course, his team were still being pricks, most of them having assumed Robert had finally quit and being very disappointed when they found out it hadn't happened yet.

 

Nothing too memorable happened. They were all assholes to each other, to Robert, probably expecting a scolding or an unofficial motivational speech, but none of that happened. His mind had strayed way too far in his worries that it ended up coming up with a billion ways on how Beef could die. What if the tumor pressed against his stomach, preventing him from fully digesting food and basically making him starve to death?

 

How didn't Robert notice it earlier? How come it had to be this dog, his dog, his only friend at this point? Was this some cruel joke God was making? Take away another thing he loved just so he'd settle for the barest of the bare fucking minimum?

 

Hell, he couldn't even get the bare minimum. Not from his team, not from the universe, not from anything. Some divine force had to be fucking with him or—

 

His thoughts are quickly interrupted as he's launched towards the wall opposite the meeting room's doors thanks to a certain construct. His body aches from the pain of hitting the wall and the chairs against it, and honestly, he can't help think of how Beef feels; he's still so caught up in his dog's health while everyone laughed and mocked him for getting chucked by Golem.

 

Robert couldn't take this for too long. He was already stressed from the fact that his dog was dying, and how badly his team was performing, while he had to be the one responsible for their failures.

 

He makes it through the meeting, not mentioning Golem's earlier stunt or the fact that nobody bothered to sit down. He basically just repeats what Blonde Blazer had explained to him, how all of them would need to pull their weight and get higher on the leaderboard, or else they'd be kicked out. No one was paying attention, probably and he didn't care. Not right now at least.

 

Beef is taken back from Chase, and Robert gets back to his work station, keeping him on his lap for the remainder of the day.

 

The work day doesn't go too well, though Invisigal does gain one extra point, which puts her higher than both Coupé and Sonar and isn't forced to quit. According to Blonde Blazer's words, even if Invisigal was last, she likely wouldn't have let her go regardless.

 

So he's forced to choose a person to boot. He picks at random, landing on Sonar. Doesn't take him long to give a bullshit reason that sounds real enough before he quickly leaves with Beef.

 

It's the same for the next couple of days, work, check up on Beef, worry... Before his anxiety gets too crippling; he had barely noticed that Beef started having great difficulties with standing, walking, hell, even peeing, and he goes back to the vet again, having a "real" reason to actually get the surgery now.

 

It's the same thing as last time, just waiting outside the door and hoping, praying to whatever God will answer his prayers that his dog will be alright. Thankfully, he made sure to take the day off before ditching his team... Not to mention the other vet wasn't there and the one who was performing the surgery seemed eager to help, so there was that.

 

Robert probably sat in that waiting room for two hours, even if it felt much longer than that... Finally, it was done, and they said he could see Beef when he was wakes up.

 

He probably had a cone on to keep him from gnawing on his stitches. Robert could cry at the mere thought of that happening, he didn't even realize he was this attached to Beef.

 

He counted down the minutes until he could finally see him, and when he did, he was still yowling, except now his voice was almost gone. “So he's cancer-free?” Robert asks the vet as he pets Beef.

 

“We still need to get his pathology report so we won't know that until later.” They shrug, glance over at Robrt. “The hard part is over, kid. Just take him home, restrict his exercise lest you want his stitches popping open and keep him on a proper diet in the meanwhile.” They give Beef a nice scratch behind his ear before moving to the cabinet on the wall behind him. “I'll send you home with pain medicine; you can sneak it in his food or directly give it to him. Ol' bugger doesn't seem like the picky type, but you can decide the method of intake...”

 

Robert just nods, keeping an ear out while he quietly examines Beef on his own... His belly was shaved, and he looked pretty ridiculous like that. The cone prevented him from even moving his neck properly, which was sad to see yet obviously for the best.

 

He gets his pup home, doing everything he was told to do by the vet, even if it was a little hard keeping the cone on. Robert was forced to bring him along to work for the next couple of days as he healed, and everyone just teased Beef about having a cone. Even Chase.

 

By then, everyone figures out that the reason why Robert was so standoffish was that Beef was recovering. And because he hated everyone he worked with, so they wouldn't think he'd be all buddy-buddy with everyone now. Chase made up that last part, however, Robert wasn't going to refute it.

 

Sometime later, the pathology report is sent to Robert. It's a bunch of medical terms Robert doesn't understand, eventually he finds the area where it's written that there's no evidence of cancerous cells in Beef, and he's considered fully cured. His heart feels like it's doubled in size when he reads those words, and he's quick to celebrate with Beef, getting him the notorious pup cup every other dog seemed to like, however, Beef ended up hating. It was a fun experience.

 

He took him on many walks, gave him one too many treats, and basically smothered him with love while his fur grew back. Not to mention he got Beef a proper dog bed and proper toys so he didn't have the most basic shit known to man.

 

Beef went back to his normal, energetic self, and Robert was still cursing out the universe for the experience.

Chapter Text

After breaking up with Phenomaman over Tokyo Dream Sushi, everything went to further shit. She could barely form a proper thought, and by the time she finally made it back to reality, she found she'd been essentially ignoring anyone and everyone in her path. It wasn't their fault she was so out of it these past few days; in all honesty, her shaking shit up was just a failed attempt at trying to get some control of her life.

 

Obviously, when she told this to Robert, specifically the part where someone would be kicked out of the Z-team thanks to the leaderboard and their rank on it, he noticed something was off pretty quickly. Blonde Blazer hoped one of his witty replies or insults would cheer her up, but instead,

 

“I'll let the team know,” Robert nodded, clearly conflicted. Obviously, he wasn't too sure whether making jokes around his clearly burnt-out boss was appropriate... Hell, making jokes around her in general was probably a violation of some sort.

 

“I already did,” Blazer explained, shrugging a little. It was pretty odd to only give him the news. If that were the case, his team would most likely sabotage him more, trying to overthrow him or something, because he would be trying to kick them out. She knew how they could get, crazy was the easiest way to put it.

 

It took a while for him to respond. Or maybe to even think of a response. He was probably second-guessing her words, thinking she couldn't possibly know what she was talking about. Every man thinks they're one step ahead after all, assuming all a girl wants is a fancy dinner and a stable job—

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Blazer stared at him for a moment, her mind not comprehending those three words for a second. Was she alright? I mean, why wouldn't she be? She— Well... She didn't exactly have any breakthroughs or fantastic revelations that would change the world completely like she usually did... She didn't come up with any new concepts or hire more supers that could genuinely be useful.

 

If anything, her greatest accomplishment today was getting out of bed. Hell, even that felt like hell. She wasn't usually like this; she was energetic, hopeful, all of the above... Not this. Never this, obviously it was fucking odd, she wasn't masking like she always did. Kinda ironic since that's essential in her day-to-day life. That shitty mask, barely doing anything for her to protect her identity, was just the necklace keeping her from being recognized.

 

She just shrugged. Robert didn't need to get tangled up in her mess of a life when he already had his own. Not to mention the fact that she'd assigned him to the shittiest team here. Why was she so negative today? She needed to catch her breath.

 

“...Did you eat today? Yknow, breakfast, early lunch?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I don't see how any of that is your business.” She chided, a small scott escaping her at the absurdity of her own employee feeling the need to check up on her. “Just— Go do your job, Robert.”

 

He reluctantly left the room, which also meant he left Blonde Blazer alone with her thoughts, which were less than friendly. Each one was basically just an interpretation of how the day would go, how the next five steps should be, despite her feeling like she was already taking fifty steps back.

 

She forced her way through the day, holding her breath, biting her tongue, trying her hardest to exist without weighing in on anyone's problems, and eventually it was time for Robert to confront his team after their shitty shift. It didn't take long for insults to roll in, but eventually Robert began his motivational banter.

 

Blonde Blazer could barely listen in, just zoning out while hoping the workday would be over sooner than later. She's able to grasp a few concepts he was talking about, something about Phoenixes and potential. The usual shit to get people hyped about doing the right thing and whatnot.

 

Thankfully, it's over, and the room clears out. She should've regulated during the meeting, kept them from going at each other's throats... Something, anything. She felt more like a supervillain than the fucking supervillains who were sitting right in front of her a moment earlier; she could barely breathe.

 

She gets a text, some big fancy party happening tomorrow or something. They'll send a dress over... At least that's something she doesn't have to worry about.

 

The work day goes by with nothing notable; it's the same as always: people talking shit behind her back and arguing with one another while she feels like her head is underwater.

 

They go through the whole choosing Coupé or Sonar to boot thing since Invisigal barely scraped by on the leaderboard. Thankfully, Robert was the one to tell the person being fired that they're fired, because if she's admitting things, she barely paid any attention whatsoever during that meeting.

 

The day ends and she's prepared to just lie down and scream into a pillow until her voice is gone...

 

Robert visits her before she leaves the office. On his own time, though, which was less than common. Beef was following him, tongue sticking out as he examined the place.

 

“Got you something,” Robert admits, showing her a bottle of hard liquor he probably bought during lunch... Or stole. She wasn't too sure what to think of the gesture, but it seemed innocent enough. “You up for a drink or?” He questions, receiving a nod from Blonde Blazer.

 

The two sat outside on the stairs leading to the garden, passing the bottle back and forth while Beef ran around in the fenced area. Maybe this wasn't what Blonde Blazer needed at the moment, but it was nice. Really nice. Who knew Robert Robertson was so comforting even without words?

 

Maybe she was tired of the monotonous way Phenomaman talked.

 

“Y’eat yet?” Robert slurred, declining the bottle when Blazer offered it to him.

 

She paused, realizing she hadn't. “No.”

 

“I know this nice burger joint not so far from here.”

 

“Nice or mediocre? I swear, if you take me to a McDonald's, I'll defenestrate you.”

 

“Hell no, McDonald's is ass, and their mascot is a phony. Swear, the place is fucking awesome, they probably don't have a food permit, but one bite of whatever they throw at you and you'll want to blow the chef.”

 

“You give chefs bjs often?” She questioned, laughing as she took another swig of the alcohol.

 

Robert chuckled, shaking his head.

 

Blonde Blazer stands up, leaving the bottle on the stairs. “Take me to this extraordinary restaurant then.”

 

Robert nods, calling Beef over before the three of them make it to the restaurant... Which turned out to be a food truck that operated after hours because SDN and the police would beat their asses otherwise.

 

They sit at the sidewalk, Robert feeding Beef pieces of chicken while Blonde Blazer enjoys a burger.

 

“Never thought I liked pickles before.” She admitted, mouth full.

 

“Figured you never tried them anyway... Too busy eating urchin guts.” Robert chuckled, eating his fries. “Did you seriously break up with Phenome— Phe... Pheno-man man over dream sushi?”

 

“Yeah. He was there, I was there, seemed right.”

 

“Probably was... You didn't hear this for me, but he creeps me out.” Robert murmurs.

 

Blazer pauses, glancing over at him and shaking her head, holding back a laugh. “Usually when people say that phrase, they mean something that actually happened or they made up... Not an opinion, Bob-bob.”

 

“Whateverr.” Robert huffs, resting his head on her shoulder. “I think Beef is going to bite my fingers off.”

 

“Like Flambae?”

 

“What?”

 

“Didn't his fingers get bitten off by a dog? You two could match. He's all index and second fingers... And thumb.”

 

“He looks like a thumb.”

 

“Arright, arright... Just eat your food, Bobson.” Blazer rolled her eyes, finishing her burger.

 

Eventually, the two went their separate ways home... She felt lighter already. She should probably return the favor to Robert.

Chapter Text

“Fuck—” Robert hears Chase curse as he winces from what he assumes is pain. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he sets the box that Beef was sitting in on his desk before making his way over to the man.

 

“You alright, gramps?” He inquired, receiving a glare from Chase, as the man turned around in his chair. “What? Arthritis get you?” Robert questions.

 

All Chase could do was groan because Robert was actually right. “Just... My fucking hands keep locking up.” He admits, showing his hands to Robert. The joints were stiff and a little gross looking, while his hands shook from something else... Or the same thing.

 

“I could help you with that.” Robert shrugs, leaning on the side of Chase's L-shaped desk.

 

Chase scoffed, “Yeah, right, you rely on brute force just like your daddy.”

 

“Mmm. Obviously you don't know me that well, friend. Used to work with the elderly for a while, so I wouldn't run out of money for my dog.”

 

“You have a dog?”

 

“Yeah, he's on my desk right now. I was about to ask you to watch over him while I play operator.” Robert admits, his gestures going unnoticed by Chase as he tries to peek around the desk to see the dog, which causes him more joint pain...

 

“What the hell, sure. What breed is it?”

 

“I dunno. You want me to take care of your fingers or not?”

 

Chase sighed in resignation, raising his hands so the other could reach them. Robert took one of his hands and it didn't take him a second before beginning his magic, his fingers holding each of Chase's in place while his thumbs rubbed the joints in circles, loosening them from both the heat and movement. One by one, Chase could slowly start actually feeling his fingers, even if it was a little painful to move them still. It was a huge improvement from his earlier state.

 

“Don't you have work to do?” Chase questioned as he flexed the treated hand, watching as Robert started on the other.

 

“Fuck them... They'll think they're getting an earlier Christmas present.”

 

“You quitting?”

 

“Yup.”

 

Five-ish minutes later, and Robert was done with the second hand... Before taking Chase by surprise and cracking his knuckles, which was agonizing for about half a second, before his entire hand felt like it died and went to heaven, where he was young again.

 

“You're making a face. Is it that good?” Robert chuckled, reaching for Chase's other hand and doing the same thing there.

 

“Fuckin’ hell. How'd you... You really been hiding this from me, you little shit?”

 

“You never asked!” Robert huffed, rolling his eyes. “Magic hands aren't just bragged about, Unc.” He joked, wiggling his digits before getting up. “I should get to work.”

 

“Wait—” Chase called before he could catch himself. “...Y'think you could do my knees?”

 

Robert laughed, nodding and stepping towards him once more. He grabbed one of Chase's legs, raising it so it was almost pressed to the man's torso, which was a huge pain on his hip, taking a second before snap, crackle, and pop, and it was as good as new.

 

A passerby stared at the two for a long moment, “I'm not even gonna ask...” They murmur to themselves before walking off.

 

The same was done on the other knee before Robert stood up properly, hands resting on his hips. “All good?”

 

“Actually, my back could—”

 

“Oh, fuck off. I'll do it later, man.” Robert gave an exaggerated sigh before rounding the corner to his own work station, helping Beef out of the box, who literally made his own way to Chase while Robert set his pillow on the ground beneath his own desk.

Chapter Text

Robert is woken up by his phone ringing. He barely noticed how quickly he'd passed out once he got back home, and... Why was Coupé calling him? Was she in trouble or something? Even then, it was pretty odd for her to call him, of all people. He hesitates before answering the phone, pressing it to his ear so he wouldn't disturb Beef.

 

“Hello?” Coupé spoke, waiting for a reply.

 

Robert grunted, adjusting in his chair. “Hey, what's up?” He queried, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “People don't usually call this late into the night.” Robert points out, rolling his shoulder so it wouldn't lock up.

 

There's a silence for quite some time on the other line before he hears a sigh, “Alright, I'm hanging up.”

 

“No— nono, I'm... Jeez, I'm just kidding. What's wrong?”

 

“Why does something have to be wrong? What, I can't just call?”

 

“Don't think you of all people would call me specifically, no matter the time of day, so... Y'know.”

 

Coupé let out an amused noise, closer to a scoff than a chuckle. “Just... Couldn't sleep. Figured you'd understand.” She sighed, already regretting her decision even more than earlier.

 

“Actually, I was sleeping like a baby.” He remarked sarcastically,

 

Coupé paused, “Really?” she murmured, surprise evident in her voice.

 

“No. I sleep on a plastic lawn chair, and I'm probably four seconds away from falling over and breaking it and myself.” Maybe it was the exhaustion, but he was definitely info-dumping way too damn much for someone notoriously hated by his teammates for essentially existing wrong... -Ly.

 

“Why don't you have a bed? I'm pretty sure SDN pays your ass more than it pays us.” Coupé asked, and Robert could hear a bit of shuffling from her side.

 

He shrugged as if she could see him. “Scared to cash in my paycheck... Plus, I'm the last person who should be buying furniture. Let alone decorating.”

 

“Getting yourself a bed is the bare minimum, it isn't decoration.”

 

“Ehh...”

 

“You're hopeless.”

 

They too shared a quiet laugh, Robert having stood up and making his way to the balcony after noticing Beef was shifting in his sleep.

 

“So, your failed villain missions haunting you or something? Is that why you can't sleep?” Robert guesses, probably pinning the tail to the donkey's stomach instead of his bed.

 

“Not even close.” Nope... Pin to the head, apparently. “Just insomnia.”

 

“That sucks.”

 

Coupé lets out an unimpressed sigh, a yawn escaping her.

 

“Y'know, I heard that if you're unable to sleep, someone's probably thinking about you,” Robert mentions. It was a dumb theory he didn't believe in but threw out there for shits and giggles.

 

Coop pauses, comprehending his words. “So... What you're saying is, I need to kill someone thinking about me so I can go to bed?”

 

“What? No, no. If anything, your face will be all over the news, and more people will be thinking about you 'cause you murdered someone.” Robert huffed, running a hand through his hair. “Plus, it's probably a stupid myth...”

 

“Myth or not, if it's true, I have a few throats to slit.”

 

“Yeah, a few million. You realize how many people are in America alone?

 

She shrugs, staring at the empty wall her bed was next to. “Tell me another fact then.”

 

Robert cleared his throat, “Alright... Uh, did you know that... Abraham Lincoln was the tallest president?”

 

“Are you making that up?”

 

“No, no, it's true, search it up or something. I get the whole question, everything... Thing, but yknow. Check your facts before calling somebody a liar.” He explained, earning a confused hum from Coop.

 

“I didn't call you a liar, though.” She mentioned, shifting in her bed once more. “Give me a good fact. Or something absurd.”

 

“Did you know that... It, it rains diamonds on Neptune?”

 

“Did you see it for yourself?”

 

“Not yet I haven't... Oh, here's a good one. Polar bears have black skin. Their fur is transparent, so it reflects light, and since we usually see them in snowy environments, they come off white. Also, different topic, if you google the word askew, it'll tilt the whole page.” Robert mentions, leaning on his balcony railing. “Er... Octopi punch other fish for no reason. They also have three hearts... I think. Maybe that's squid.”

 

“So, like punch up?”

 

“Basically, yeah.” Robert nods, trying to rack his brain for something interesting. “Did you know that the literal fear of long words is "hippo-potomonstroses-quippedalio-phobia"? Also, bananas are berries and strawberries aren't...”

 

“Interesting...” Coupé murmured, probably not paying attention.

 

“The smallest bone in the human body is in the ear.” Robert hums.

 

“I knew that...”

 

“Yknow the term for throwing somebody out of a window is defenestration? Also, the origin of the word "mortgage" comes from the Old French word, "mort gage", meaning "dead pledge." This refers to the condition that the pledge is forfeited if the borrower defaults, at which point the property becomes "dead" to them. The term evolved from the Latin mortuum vadium ("dead pledge") and has been in use in English since the late 14th century.”

 

“You're like a wikipedia page. When did you learn this?” Coop questions.

 

“Had a lot of free time as a kid... Also unsupervised internet time, which quickly turned into fun fact memorization, so I'd appear interesting and maybe my dad would give more than a quarter of a fuck about me.”

 

“That's... Sad.”

 

“Thank you,”

 

He kept giving pretty useless fun facts for 30 more minutes before Coupé stopped responding completely. He figured she had finally fallen asleep from boredom, and he accomplished his mission of helping a friend. He made his way back inside and plopped down on his chair before practically passing out.

 

The next day, during work, Coupé is a little friendlier than usual. By that I mean she wasn't contributing to the whole ridicule Robert thing as much as she previously did, which was nice. It wasn't often that they had midnight calls where he'd spout nonsense and she'd listen until she got tired of doing so before falling asleep, since she figured looking up random facts would probably be more accurate than some white dude talking crazy.

 

Even if she liked the crazy talk. She wouldn't admit that.