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“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Blazer looks at him from across the desk, suddenly nervous. “Well, I was, but now I’m not so sure. You disagree?”
Robert nods. “Cutting someone at a time like this doesn’t show them that we’re serious; it shows we don’t care about them. Especially if we just replace the empty slot with someone they don’t know. It’s going to throw off the whole team's synergy.”
Blazer looks at him a little sheepishly. “That’s a good point.” She admits, albeit hesitantly. “But I’ve already talked with the higher-ups about it and told the team that one of them would be cut.”
Robert keeps his face neutral even as annoyance flares in his gut. Why would she bother asking him if she had already made the decision? Why try to pin the choice on him? “Look, can you just give us a few days? If we can prove to SDN that the Z-Team works best as it is, then we don’t cut anyone. Sound fair?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Blazer agrees. It’s not the resounding confirmation he was hoping for, but it’s something he can work with. Now he just has to get the rest of the team on board. And given the news lingering like a guillotine waiting to fall, he’s not exactly surprised to find chaos when he slips on his headset.
“Sonar, what’s going on?”
“Coop seduced me.” Sonar mournfully reports.
Coupe’s laugh rings out across the line. “I didn’t seduce you. I handcuffed you to a squat rack.”
“Her seduction techniques are much more elegant.” Punch Up confirms.
“Alright, everyone,” Robert cuts in, “Cut the chatter. I know Blazer told you someone was getting cut—“
“This is such bullshit.”
“We didn’t do anything to deserve this.”
“Yeah, we’ve been trying our best.”
“Flambae, you literally set something on fire yesterday on purpose.”
“And I handled it like a pro.”
“If you would take more than 2 seconds to listen to me,” Robert interrupts once more, "Blazer told you that someone was getting cut, but I convinced her to give us some time.” There’s a pause where no one says anything, either surprised or intrigued by the new information. “I told her that everyone here was an integral part of the team and that cutting someone would mess up the whole dynamic. Now, while I believe that, it doesn’t matter unless you all prove it. So I need everyone on their best behavior for the next couple of days and not to sabotage each other for the sake of self-advancement." Robert says pointedly. “Is that something we can handle?”
“Easy.”
“Light work.”
“On it.”
“Whatever you say, bossman.”
Various agreements come flooding in over the line, and Robert tentatively allows himself to relax. Maybe they could do this after all.
He really doesn’t know what Blazer was thinking. The whole point of this was to give them a second chance, to let them rise from the ashes of their previous mistakes—some more literally than others. But threatening to cut someone, to dangle the chance of freedom and forgiveness in front of them, only to pull it away at the last second, is like stepping on the phoenix egg before it even gets a chance to hatch.
Even more so, it illustrates that SDN likes the idea of a rehabilitation program and nothing more. It doesn’t care for the real people behind it. They want the good press, the reputation of how they’ve taken such filthy degenerates and made them something the world can stand to swallow, whittling them down to be cogs in the machine. They don’t care about those who don’t fit the mold, who struggle with the changes, who get left behind by a system that cares about stats and high numbers.
Humans like to do what is easy. For big corporations, it’s throwing out those who don’t do as well as expected. For reformed villains, it’s resorting to old habits when not provided with support. Getting clean is hard. Allowing yourself to be seen is hard. Fighting against lifelong stereotypes and preconceived notions is hard. Why bother to constantly prove you're something different when people don’t believe you anyway? Why not be what they expect and get revenge on them in the process?
He meant it when he said that this team needs a different type of approach. Sure, this team isn't going to react well to soft words and coddling, but that doesn’t mean you can just treat them as a problem to be fixed. They’re people under it all, and people deserve to be treated with respect.
Being Mecha Man was hard when it was just him, and most of the time, people treated him nicely. But even as a well-revered hero, there were days when people just treated him like a tool to be used, forgetting that there was someone inside the mech, even if they didn’t know who he was. And that was exhausting, being held to a high standard, being ridiculed for making even the simplest of mistakes, and oscillating between extreme praise and extreme hate. Robert doesn’t even think that he would’ve made it through without Beef. So imagine what they could do if someone had a whole team supporting them.
He knows what it’s like to be haunted by your past. But for now, it’s time for them to work on their future.
That is not to say their shift goes without a hitch. Tension is still running high, and everyone is on edge from Blazer’s announcement, even if the threat has been waylaid. What might be normally easy jobs are flubbed due to jitters, and snarky remarks come across as more biting, feral, and desperate than before.
Robert would love to tell them that he plans for all of them to be allowed to stay, even if it means manually tweaking the numbers on the scoreboard himself. But he doesn’t want to make a promise he can’t guarantee, and he’s not sure how much they believe him in the first place. As much as they’re trying, there’s an undertone of resignation to their actions.
After lunch, things are a little better, even as each member tries to prove their worth. At least they seem to be focusing more on themselves rather than bothering each other. It isn’t really until the next day, when they are all still on the roster and no larger decisions have been made, that they relax. Slowly, things settle back into their normal flow, friendly teasing, and fond rivalries. By the second half of the day, it’s like the topic of cutting someone had never been broached at all. He can’t tell if they’ve really settled or if they’ve just gotten good at faking it.
By Friday, things are truly looking up.
First of all, no one is in last place on the leaderboard, and Robert didn’t even have to give those numbers a boost. That in and of itself is a cause for celebration. It seemed that with a little genuine support and perhaps a little bit of a looming deadline, everyone was ready to kick into high gear. Once the nerves had cycled out of their system, Robert had slowly watched their confidence—and teamwork—grow with each passing day.
He’s not going to pretend that they were suddenly some state-of-the-art system ready to take orders without a fight, but they were at least willing to concede that Robert knew what he was doing. And really, what’s a few teasing insults between friends? Robert can give as good as he can take, and he thinks his somewhat snarky, prickly behavior made him a better fit for the team than anyone realized. And if they go off route during the shift, at least they usually bring him a coffee to make up for it.
Of course, he’s not going to be recommending they use any of their calls for training purposes, given the type of jokes and general language that tends to get used, but Robert can hardly fault them for that. If he had to do half the dumb shit subscribers call them for, he’d curse too. It probably doesn’t help with the feeling of being trusted that heroes get assigned to move furniture or take someone’s dog for a walk, but he hopes the number of times they catch airplanes out of the sky or wrangle a baby kaiju makes up for it.
All that is to say, by the end of the week, everyone is feeling on top of the world.
The shift ends with a cacophonous cheer over the comms and general chatter about going out to celebrate. Robert grins to himself but cannot deny the warmth in his chest at the pride in his team as he collects his things. “Great job, everyone. Those corporate bastards won’t know what hit them.” He says, setting off another round of cheers.
“Fuck yeah, Bobby Boy! Are you joining us or not? We’re heading to the Sardine for drinks.” Prism says, as if he hadn't spent the past few minutes listening to them plan.
Robert pauses midway through zipping up his bag, blinking at his computer as if he could see his teammates through it. He must take a moment too long to respond, because the chatter starts up again.
“Did you break him?”
“Fuck, did you die in there?”
"Nah, he’s probably just too much of a loser to party that hard.”
“What? Don’t want to be seen at a villain bar with people like us?”
“No,” Robert cuts in, trying to dissuade the negative remark. “Just surprised you want me to come.”
“This was a team effort.” Golem reminds in that no-nonsense tone of his. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Well…”
“Shut up, Sonar.” Punch Up agrees. “The lad stuck his neck out for us. The least we could do is buy him a drink.”
“So are you coming or not, Lt. Dan? I could’ve been halfway through a whisky by now.”
Robert glances around and realizes that Beef has gone with Chase, so he really has no reason to refuse. Besides, it’d be nice to hang out with the team in a non-work context to get to know them better. He can’t really say he’s making a full effort if he holds them at arm's length.
“If you insist.” He teases, but his voice comes out a little fond, and they make fun of him for it over the line.
“Get your broke ass down to the lobby in five minutes, or we’re leaving without you.” Flambae threatens, and Robert just clicks the headset off with a grin.
When they come back Monday morning, he's starting to think that his hangover headache might actually be gone. When the Z-Team parties, he learns, they party hard. Though given the fact that pretty much everyone else on the team is enhanced in some way or otherwise non-human, he might be the only one feeling a little off. He probably shouldn’t try to keep up shot-for-shot next time.
Still, he’s riding a fantastic high upon entering the bullpen, especially seeing as those working the weekend shifts hadn’t bumped any of their team into last place again. So, when he stops by his desk, dropping Beef off to go say hi to Chase, he’s not bothered by the note telling him to meet with Blazer. It’s good to get this out of the way so she can see the evidence of their progress and start out their week with good news.
“Blazer, you wanted to see me…” He starts congenially, only to trail off upon seeing other people in the room.
Given the fancy business suits they’re wearing, he figures they must be the higher-ups Blazer had mentioned. He was right, he thinks to himself; these are corporate fucks. He wonders if any of them were actually ever heroes. Years of press conferences help him keep a straight face and calm demeanor, but he gets a sinking feeling in his stomach. He doesn’t think they’re here to congratulate him on what a good job they’ve been doing.
“I’m Robert Robertson,” he introduces politely anyway, but none of them make a move to shake his hand.
“We know who you are.” Corporate fuckhead #1 says, and no one else attempts formalities. Robert drops his hand and gets ready to defend himself.
“Take a seat, if you’d like.” Douchebag #2 says, and while the words themselves may be polite, their tone indicates anything but. Seeing as no one else is sitting, Robert isn’t going to let them have whatever fucked-up power play they’re trying to accomplish.
“I’m fine standing, thanks.” He dismisses easily and notes the way the tension in the room rises.
“Robert Robertson,” Dickwad #3 begins, flipping through some papers on their clipboard. “Recently acquired dispatcher who was assigned to the Z-Team.” They say, as if reading off the page.
“I thought you knew who I was.”
Dickwad #3 glances up at him, letting the papers fall back to the clipboard, their icy gaze boring into him. He suddenly wishes the office door hadn’t been shut behind him. He’s starting to get the impression they don’t like him.
“Let’s get right down to business. You were instructed to cut one member from the Z-Team, but after a week, you have not done so. We are here for your choice.”
“I told Blazer I would only consider it if my team had not shown improvement, which it has. Overall teamwork, call success rate, and rank on the board have risen significantly in just the past week. Given another month, I could have some of them in the top 5.”
“While this may be true, it is not overtly impressive.” Corporate fuckhead #1 says, and Robert vehemently disagrees. Given the fact that it’s only been a couple of days, he thinks they have done remarkably well. Their Friday night celebration was well deserved.
“Your team members may not currently reside in last place, but it would only take one bad day for that to be undone. After all, Coupe and Sonar sit tied for third to last, at only 79 points.” Douchebag #2 says, glancing down at what must be the rankings on their tablet.
“Like I said, it’s only been a week. With more time—“
“Cutting one of them will suffice." Dickwad #3 cuts in, staring at him expectantly. Robert grinds his teeth together in attempts to keep himself calm.
“And if I don’t?”
“If you don’t choose either Coupe or Sonar to remove from your team, we will remove you from your position and get their next dispatcher to decide instead. I’m sure we can find someone more willing to comply.”
Robert stares at them for a moment in shock. They must know how much he needs this job and are trying to use it against him. So, really, in the end, it’s not much of a choice at all.
“Fine, I have my decision: Fuck. You.” He practically snarls, taking pleasure in the surprised look on their faces.
Given the fact that it was likely one of their ideas to offer assistance with the mech, they must’ve at least been somewhat interested in having him around in the first place. That was until, apparently, they found out he doesn’t just roll over and do what he’s told. Well, if they wanted a hero who blindly followed orders, they should’ve got someone else.
“Fine, then, Mr. Robertson. If that’s how you feel, then you have an hour to gather your things and leave the building.”
“Gladly.” Robert bites out with a glare and turns on his heel, storming out of the room. He doesn’t even care to acknowledge the dawning horror on Blazer’s face as she realizes this has gone too far and is much too angry to notice the door hovering open a second too long as someone invisible slips out behind him.
___ ___ ___
Invisigal is not a person who panics.
She’s learned to keep a calm and collected cool head when dealing with high-stress situations, because when you’re out doing villain shit, panicking gets you killed. And when it comes to having asthma, there’s no good time to hyperventilate. She’s used to hiding her nerves behind witty remarks and deflecting jokes, pretending like she doesn’t care, so maybe that’s why everyone is shocked when she throws the break room door open.
The other Z-Teamers are milling around, causing a general racket as they prepare for the day, but it comes to a screeching halt as the door bangs against the wall. Everyone just stares at her as she takes a heaving breath, torn between shock and confusion.
“Damn, girl,” Prism complains, “You made me drop my—“
“Robert got fired.” Visi cuts off, and now the room is stunned for a different reason.
“Fired?” Punch Up asks, facing scrunching as if he can’t comprehend what she means by that.
“What the hell?” Sonar wonders.
“There’s nothing he could’ve done that warrants his immediate termination.” Malevola rebuts. “The guy is practically a saint.”
“I haven’t even set his car on fire yet.”
“I don’t think he has a car.” Prism muses.
“Are you going to tell us what you saw, or are you going to force us to draw our own conclusions?” Coupe says, and the team focuses their attention back on Visi. Golem waves her closer, and the door falls shut behind her as she settles herself against him.
“Some idiots from higher-up SDN offices told him that he had to choose one of us to cut, but he refused. They told him they’d fire him if he didn't, and he told them to fuck off.”
Punch Up lets out an impressed whistle.
“Damn, he really meant it,” Malevola says, impressed.
“Yeah, he said all that shit about proving people wrong and working as a team, but that’s just what people say.” Prism agrees.
“It is very admirable that he would continue to defend us even to the point of his own personal loss.” Coupe agrees. “It is unexpected.”
“None of our other dispatchers would’ve done that.” Golem points out.
“We’re all totally fucked now that he’s gone, right?” Sonar asks.
“Yeah, they said they were just going to get our next dispatcher to choose who to cut instead.”
“Our next dispatcher?” Flambae says, sounding offended, like he hadn’t thought about the consequences of Robert being gone until just now. “Fuck no. Robert may be a bitch, but he wasn’t an unbearable, righteous douchebag. I’m not working with anyone else.”
“You’re right," Prism agrees. “Whoever they assign us next is gonna be a corporate shill. At least Robert has some bite.”
“And he went out partying with us on Friday.” Malevola continues. “No one else has done that.”
“They were pissed about that,” Visi says. “Said it was unprofessional.”
“What losers," Sonar chirps.
“What are we doing to prevent this? I have made threats to high-ranking officials before.” Coupe offers.
“I love the spirit, but we can’t do anything they’ll use as an excuse to cut us.” Punch Up disagrees.
“Fuck it.” Golem cuts in. “I quit.”
The members of the team look at him like he’s gone slightly insane.
“If they’re going to get someone else to cut one of us because Robert left, how much longer until they give up on the rest of us? I’d rather just leave now with him. Maybe go drench some places in mud to make up for it. Or just get drunk.”
“Golem’s right.” Visi agrees. “Robert was the only person who actually cared about us. I’m not sticking around to be bossed around by someone new who is just looking for a problem to fix.”
“Hell yeah!” Sonar cheers. “Fuck this place. Let’s find Robert and get out of here.”
The team emerges from the break room triumphantly, an air of mischief hovering around them. They walk through the bullpen until they find Robert at his desk, tucking some of Beef’s things away in a box. Chase leans against the divider, Beef in his arms, looking resigned.
“Let’s go, Robert!” Punch Up calls, drawing his attention to where the group is gathering around him.
“I heard we were sticking it to the man,” Malevola says, and the small group cheers in agreement.
“What are you all doing?” Robert asks in confusion as she walks up to him, pulling him close. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your shift?”
“After what they did to you? No way.” Sonar rebuts. “We’re all getting out of here.”
Robert’s gaze lands on Visi, and he realizes what happened. “You guys don’t have to—“
“We want to, Bob Bob," Flambae says, coming over and taking the box out of his hand. “Now get your dumb dog and let's go. This place is bullshit.”
“We got big plans to celebrate the massive failure of the Phoenix program,” Prism says, typing on her phone. “Can’t wait to see how poorly this reflects on their public image.”
“Get out of here, kid.” Chase prods gently, handing over Beef. “I’ll talk with Blazer and see what I can do. But I’m proud of you for standing up for what you believe in. Even if I think it’s a stupid-ass move.”
“No one cares about your opinion anyway, Grandpa." Visi snarks, and Malevola pulls Robert gently away from his desk, wrapping her tail around his arm as she scoops his coffee mug up on the way.
“Free souvenir." She grins, careful not to spill anything.
“Oh, we should totally trash the place on the way out.”
“Absolutely not. None of this is the fault of anyone who works here or uses these facilities," Robert points out. “Don’t make their lives hard just because some corporate bastards were rude to us.”
“That’s putting it nicely.” Visi huffs.
“I should’ve taken the vending machine with us.” Golem laments.
“No!” Sonar whines as they step out into the parking lot. “A missed potential for free stuff. We have to go back to pillage the place. I could’ve taken my stapler!”
“It’s too late now, babe,” Malevola points out. “You’d be ruining our epic moment by going back in.”
"Later," he relents.
"Later," Malevola agrees.
“So… now what?” Golem asks.
“Oh, we have a full day ahead of us, and I have everything planned. Who’s ready to steal some stuff?” Prism asks, and the group cheers.
“Whoa, wait. You guys can’t steal stuff. You’re heroes.”
“Not anymore.” Punch Up points out. “That was the whole point of us quitting.”
“By terminating our contracts, they will likely attempt to send us back to jail,” Coupe says.
“Fuck that shit. I’m not going back to jail.” Flambae huffs.
“They will not succeed.” Coupe agrees.
“So, yeah, stealing stuff.”
“What’d you have in mind?” Malevola asks.
“I’ve been itching to decorate Robert’s lame-ass apartment ever since I saw it.”
“When did you see my apartment?”
Prism raises an eyebrow, staring at him over the rim of her visor. “Ever since we dropped your drunk ass off there Friday night.”
“You’ve had enough time to plan out the decor for my apartment since then? It’s been two days.”
“Two very long and painful days. Our first priority is getting your pathetic ass a bed. We literally had to leave you on the bare floor. Not even a rug, you miserable loser.”
"Thanks," Robert deadpans.
“Thank me when your apartment is livable.”
“Why are we decorating his place anyway? We’re the ones who just quit our jobs.”
“Because Robert lost his job defending us. The least we can do is make sure he has a decent place to sleep.”
“And we’re stealing everything, so it’s not like we’re wasting money.”
“Maybe I’ll start working in a coffee shop after this.” Malevola muses as they head towards Robert’s apartment. Beef trots along beside everyone happily, enjoying the extra company and attention.
“Nah, you need to make your own version of Uber,” Golem says. “People would pay mad money for instant transportation.”
“Shit, babes. This is why we keep you around. You always have the best ideas.”
The day goes smoothly after that, all things considered, because they are able to distract Robert long enough to actually get his place into a semblance of working order. That is to say, by the time they’ve brought in a bed and a couch, it’s too late to stop them, and Robert gives up. Visi catches the fond look on his face despite his continued protests and is nice enough not to call him out on it. Thanks to sheer numbers, superhuman strength, and Malevola’s portals, Robert’s apartment looks straight out of a Pinterest board by midafternoon.
They get pizza for a late lunch, and the mood isn’t even killed when Robert insists on paying for it. The half-eaten boxes sit open on the wood coffee table as the team lounges around the newly furnished living room, chatting and mostly ignoring the mindless drivel playing on the new flat-screen television. It’s not about whatever he chooses to watch, according to Sonar, but the fact that he could if he wanted to.
The calm atmosphere is disrupted when Robert’s phone rings. The TV is muted, and the conversation comes to a halt, curiosity spiking as Robert puts it on speaker.
“Hello?” Robert answers politely, as if he doesn’t know who it is.
“Robert, it’s Blazer. I was able to talk with the SDN representatives and convince them to give you your job back.”
Robert blinks down at his phone, unimpressed. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’m not going back without my team. All of my team," he stresses.
“Right, Chase said they were a little upset.”
A little? Visi mouths and rolls her eyes. Various members huff in annoyance or murmur indignantly, but keep quiet enough not to disturb the call.
“Look, Robert, you were right. I thought that cutting someone would be the best way to show that we were serious about this program, but it ended up causing it to fall apart altogether. This is a decision that I should’ve talked with you about beforehand and gotten your opinion. I said that I would trust you to handle this, and then immediately went behind your back to do something else. I'm sorry. The SDN representatives agreed not to force anyone to be cut. You and all the members of the Z-team will be guaranteed their jobs for the foreseeable future as per the contracts you signed.”
“I knew you weren’t a lame-ass bitch, Ms. Blazer!” Prism cheers as the team erupts into celebration. Robert grins at Blazer’s stunned silence.
“Sorry,” he says with no tone of actual remorse. “You were on speaker.”
The team continues to celebrate, and Robert begins to feel that same on-top-of-the-world feeling he had upon coming in this morning. He glances at the people around him and starts to really feel like he’s living up to an impossible legacy—helping out those who need it most. Although...
“Say, does that include forgiveness for any hypothetical crimes committed in the past few hours?”