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The day starts with a high-pitched sound coming from his computer, one that he scrambles to shut off before his coworkers glare too many daggers at him. Once Robert has dealt with that, he looks up to see Flambae and Punch Up laughing at him, as well as Malevola giving him the middle finger.
So, he fired Sonar. So what? The bat was a disaster the entire prior day. His shift hadn’t even started when he sent a distress signal from a gym because – get this – Coupé had tied him to some equipment.
“Coop seduced me,” Sonar explained his predicament then, defeated but also oddly disappointed.
To which the assassin replied with a chuckle, “No, I said ‘hey, wanna see something cool?’ and then handcuffed you to a squat rack.”
“But you said it in a hot voice,” defensively countered the bat, “so I assumed you meant boobs.”
You can’t have a pervert like that on your team, diminishing the reputation of the SDN, of the Phoenix Program and the Z-Team. You just can’t.
But now, as Malevola flat out refuses to go on calls, and as the team becomes more and more overwhelmed by each job, their numbers constantly decreasing, Robert begins to doubt whether he made the right decision.
Maybe firing Sonar was a mistake. Maybe he shouldn’t have fired anyone to begin with. Maybe he should have fought with Blazer harder, pushed her to let him keep both Sonar and Coupé.
But one thing is certain: Robert does not regret keeping Coupé on the team.
The Z-Teamers have flaws. All of them do. It’s inevitable – they’re all former villains, looking to be redeemed. To be redeemed, they need the Phoenix Program. To be redeemed, they need Robert to be there for them.
And Coupé needs it most of all.
Robert has read her file more times than any other. Something about it, about her, keeps drawing him in. Her crimes are the most unforgivable of all, because while others may have petty theft, cyberbullying and disturbing the peace in their list, Coupé has stalked, kidnapped, and murdered people. It’s gotten to a point where her true kill count is ‘unknown’. That alone should have made Robert push her away; think her too evil and mean, or whatever else, and push her off the program, throw her out on the street for someone else to deal with her.
But he didn’t. Something in him told him not to. Usually one to think things through to the point of overthinking, Robert decided to go with his instinct and get rid of the bat hybrid, rather than the literal assassin.
Something in him told him that Coupé was worthy of a second chance, more worthy than not just Sonar, but maybe some of the other Z-Teamers. Something in him told him that she needed it more. Something in him told him to look over her crimes and treat her not as a tool for murder, but as a person wanting to do good, to the point of abandoning her formal lifestyle and joining this rehabilitation program.
Something in him wanted her here. So, Robert listened to that something, and kept her.
And still, he is racked with guilt. It’s not like Sonar meant much to him – he was just a coworker, a subordinate, even – and he didn’t have the chance to get to know him enough to regret his decision. But even so, Robert regrets firing someone.
It gets him thinking why Blazer even made him do it. It seems unlike her to just want to ‘shake shit up’. On the other hand, Robert hasn’t known her for long, but if she’s the kind of person to want to keep someone like Invisigal on the program, then surely, she can make room in her heart for one more.
Perhaps it was pressure from upstairs. Some higher-level boss decided to axe the program, and Blazer begged of them not to. The cut was a compromise. She had a bargaining chip, and used it. Instead of everyone going down, they just sacrificed Sonar.
Seems good enough. But Robert’s not satisfied. Something about this entire thing just isn’t right, and especially not fair. Then again, it’s not like the Z-Team knows about fairness. They’ve been villains most of, if not their entire lives. What do they care for fairness? All they care is that they weren’t the one to be axed.
But not all of them are so selfish. Malevola, especially, is not. Robert almost forgot about her relationship to Sonar until she kindly reminded him today, with every gesture and swear word. Not only is she the bat’s NA sponsor, but they’ve been good friends for about a decade, so Robert really walked into this mess himself. He should’ve read their files more. He should’ve seen this coming.
At the same time, he’s willing to bet he would have been met with resistance from Punch Up, had he fired Coupé instead. Who’s a worse enemy – a dick-kicking leprechaun, or a teleporting magic demon? Gun to his head, Robert would choose to pull the trigger.
In the end, it doesn’t matter who he fired and who he kept. Both of them deserved the chance to grow, and one of them didn’t get it. The consequences, he figures, are the same: they’re one person down, and the team is suffering.
And now Coupé – out of duty, thinks Robert – is pulling their weight like nobody else.
Since she walked in that morning, Robert sensed a shift in her. First of all, she didn’t disregard him; in fact, she greeted him quite nicely, in a way that had Robert smiling dumbly even minutes later. Then, when she was dispatched for the first time that day, she didn’t even flinch. No jab, no insult, nothing. She swiftly said she’d ‘be on it’, and on it she was. She did a splendid job and came back to HQ to recuperate.
But as the morning stretched, Robert noticed she stopped coming back. He kept dispatching her, and she kept working, kicking ass or solving puzzles as usual, but she wouldn’t return to SDN.
She even went on calls that weren’t hers to begin with. When Malevola refused to go on a mission, Coupé replaced her, even if Robert told her not to go. When Punch Up needed someone to play second fiddle to him, she went, no matter how small the inconvenience. Even when Prism or Flambae found themselves in trouble, Coupé somehow found them and bailed them out of it.
But she isn’t flawless. And now, after so many missions, she’s suffering the price.
To say Robert has been stalking her would be a disgusting exaggeration. He was simply worried for Coupé, so he followed her trail on the open cameras in the city, just as any good boss would. During each mission, he kept a watchful eye on her – and he watches her even now, as she wanders the streets in-between calls, waiting for her next job.
He’s never seen her this disheveled. She’s breathing heavily, shoulders heaving. It’d be more accurate to say she’s gasping for air. Cuts cover her face and she keeps wiping her nose, probably because of a nosebleed Robert can’t spot from here. There are multiple tears in her suit, and she constantly adjusts her mask.
Should he chime in? Would she know he was spying on her if he did? And just how angry would she become if so? Robert would be willing to risk a little frustration from Coupé if it meant getting her to fucking chill out a little – he just hopes she’ll hear it.
Thankfully, he doesn’t have to make this decision, because Coupé does it for him. She brings a hand to her earpiece.
“What next, Robert?”
The edge in her voice is the final drop. Robert’s motive is set in stone.
“A visit to the break room.”
“Okay, I’ll go over right—” Coupé stops and processes his words. Robert can basically see the gears turning in her head. “What?”
“You heard me,” he says. “Come back to HQ and rest. It’s almost time for your break, anyway—”
“Don’t lie to me, Robert,” she interrupts, words sharp. “There’s over an hour left of my shift, and I plan to work it all the way.”
Robert sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. Oh boy. “Okay, you got me. Can you just… come back anyway?”
“Why would I come back? I’m not done.”
“Because you’re a mess.”
“I’m a professional. I don’t get into any messes.”
“Coop—”
“I don’t need your pity.” Then, laser-focused, “What next, Robert?”
He purses his lips.
“Robert,” she insists, stressing the word, “talk to me.”
Robert still doesn’t answer. Coupé groans, becoming restless.
“Robert, send me on another call.”
“There aren’t any calls right now.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me,” she hisses. “What. Next?”
“What’s next is, I’m ordering you to come back to SDN and fucking rest.” Robert chooses to ignore the weird way in which his voice cracks. He doesn’t care to unpack what he’s feeling, he just needs Coupé safe. “Listen to me, that’s a direct order. You’ve done enough.”
“I’m not even getting started.”
“Don’t be an idiot—”
“All I’m doing is making sure the team doesn’t suffer because of our predicament.” She avoids saying the bat’s name, but the weight of yesterday’s decision hangs above everyone. The way she says it makes her appear almost guilty. “So, let me do this for you.”
“You’re not helping the team if you’re getting yourself hurt.”
“The only way I can help anyone is by protecting them. It’s what heroes do, don’t they?”
“Heroes take a break once in a fucking while.”
“Well, good heroes don’t. Good heroes don’t need breaks.”
“Is that what you think?” Robert can’t believe what he’s hearing. “That being a ‘good hero’ means being flawless? Because I’m pretty sure any hero worth anything could easily counter that.”
Coupé pauses. He sees the hesitation flashing on her face, even with the poor quality of the footage.
But she shakes her head, and she’s back to her frown. Unstoppable. Unmovable. So fucking unwilling.
“Guess I’ll have to be the outlier.”
“Coop—”
“Robert, I’m getting my ass fucking kicked! Can’t you send someone else to help me deal with this bullshit?!”
Invisigal’s voice comes through. What mission had he sent her on? Something with a break-in, right? Robert’s eyes dart to her icon on the monitor to check, and…
He sees that she used the team line. Fuck. He just hopes Coupé doesn’t—
“I’m coming, Invisigal,” says Coupé, and spreads her wings.
“No, you stay put—Coop! Listen to me!” Robert scrambles to talk to her, not caring for which line he uses. “You need to fucking rest, Coop, you’re not going there—”
“Just let me do this!”
“Come back to the SDN, that’s an order!”
“Hey, what’s Coop doing?” Punch Up asks.
Robert ignores him. Calls for her again. “Coupé, for the last fucking time—”
“Leave me to it.”
There are no cameras in the sky. Robert sits back in his chair with a long sigh.
“Fuck…”
“You’ll thank me when this inevitably goes perfectly,” Coupé murmurs, then shuts off her means of communication.
The mission goes horribly wrong, and Invisigal has to carry Coupé back to the SDN, because her wings have been ripped.
“Who knew crowbars could do that much damage?” wows Visi, handing Coupé off to Robert as if a parent passing their kid to a kindergarten teacher. “I didn’t! Today is a great learning experience.”
Robert gives her a look, but doesn’t say more. Invisigal opens her mouth, presumably to spit out some other quip, but decides against it and leaves diplomatically. For once, she reads the room.
Robert looks at Coupé, checking the damage. She doesn’t look too different compared to before the disastrous mall showdown… until he looks at her arms and notices bruises he’s sure are new.
“Shit, Coop…”
Robert takes her arm in his hands, looking closer. They’ve already turned purple, and Coupé hisses at his touch when he presses—
“What are you doing?” She flinches away.
Robert blinks. “Um…” Shit, what is he doing? “I just wanted to see…” He shakes his head. “Fuck, nevermind. Let’s just get you to the infirmary. Can you walk?”
“I’m not a child,” Coupé sneers, looking away.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
She goes to say something, but ends up sighing.
“Yes,” she finally mutters. “I can walk.”
And they walk silently to the infirmary.
Once they’re here, Robert doesn’t leave. His shift is over, so he has no responsibilities to attend to. This one-hour break is more than enough time to make sure Coupé is okay, and maybe even to talk some sense into her.
He watches the nurses tend to her wounds, applying all sorts of gels and bandaging them. All the while, Coupé never meets anyone’s gaze. Her expression is stone cold, but she flinches at one point and grits her teeth at another, and Robert knows the woman before him isn’t a cold-blooded, perfect weapon, but just another broken human who needs a chance to be good.
Despite Coupé’s insistence to bandage herself up by her own, the nurses keep doing their job. Robert wonders, for a second, if she would prefer it if it was him helping her – and then banishes the thought from his mind immediately, blushing furiously without really knowing why.
After about ten minutes, when the last bruise has been cared for, Coupé gets up from the bed and goes to leave. A nurse pulls her back down, however:
“You need to rest. You can’t possibly go back on the field in your current condition.”
“I’m not going to…” Coupé groans, her words unconvincing. “I was just going to the break room—all you people do is patronize me!”
The nurse is clearly taken aback by her outburst. “I’m terribly sorry, I just—”
“I can walk to the break room, it’s right across the hallway,” Coupé hisses. “I’m a grown woman, damn it.”
“And what do you need from the break room, grown woman?” calls Robert from the doorway.
Coupé turns to him, his words so confusing she’s actually not angry for a moment.
“Huh??”
“What do you need from the break room?” patiently repeats Robert.
Coupé stops. “I… I was going to get my food from the fridge.”
“Do you have your name on your food?”
“No, but it’s in a black takeout box—what do you care?”
“I’ll get it for you.”
Coupé frowns. “What?”
“I said,” Robert repeats himself once more, “that I’ll get it for you, Coop. You stay put and listen to the nice nurses. I’ll be right back.”
“Wh—” She scoffs once more. She’s really riled up. “I don’t need you to—”
“I know.” Robert turns to leave. “I just want to do a nice thing for you. So, sit back and rest.”
Surprisingly, that actually makes her stop. Coupé sits back, a look of surprise on her face – but at least she sits.
It doesn’t take long to find her food. Just as she said, it’s in a black takeout box. It’s regrettably small, but at least she’s eating. Robert remembers times when he’d go without food for hours, if not actual days, because it was too inconvenient to go eat. Coupé at least has a better handle on that than him.
He sighs. He hates how much he sees himself, past and present, in her. She does the exact same things as him, and yet, they only seem condemnable when it’s her doing them, not him. When Robert doesn’t take care of himself, it’s just another regular day – but when Coupé deliberately puts herself in danger, then he just has to step in and tell her to be more careful.
Hypocrite. That’s what he is. But he ignores the thought and reasons that he’ll just try to be better.
When Robert comes back to the infirmary, the nurses are tending to other injured heroes. Coupé is sitting on her bed, deep in thought. She doesn’t hear him come in, not until he’s considerably closer to her.
She raises her gaze, and Robert holds out the takeout box to her. Coupé wordlessly takes it.
“You can sit,” she says, trying to sound indifferent, but she avoids his gaze and Robert knows this is difficult for her. “I don’t bite.”
He smiles faintly and takes a seat next to her. They both fall silent, with Coupé opening her box to reveal a small meal of Chinese noodles, with chopsticks ready and all. She eats slowly, as if savoring each bite.
All the while, Robert looks at her wounds. The new ones are covered by bandages, but even a top assassin isn’t flawless, and so there are still visible scars on her body. Most of them are obviously caused by blades, but Robert sees some more reminiscent of burns, too.
He wonders what kind of a life Coupé has led. She was a hitwoman for the mob, so he imagines it wasn’t an easy one, but for just how long did she work for them? What was living with them like? Robert hasn’t had many run-ins with the mafia, but the rumors about them are that they’re tightknit, like a family. Is that just for gaslighting their members easily, or do they actually care for each other?
He wants to ask Coupé this. He wants to ask her so much more, too. What pushed her to have this ‘all or nothing’ mentality. What made her go independent from her former affiliation. What determined her to join the Phoenix Program. How she came to be… herself.
But he can’t, not now, and he doesn’t know if ever. All Robert does is look at her, analyzing every micro expression on her face and every small mark on her skin.
“So… you gonna tell me what happened out there?”
Coupé still chews her food when he asks, and waits to finish her mouthful before responding. She thinks her words through carefully.
“I was attacked from behind,” she says finally. “The thugs that Invisigal and I dealt with outnumbered us…” She shakes her head. “But I should have been able to take them on. I’m unsure why.”
Robert opens his mouth to say something, but Coupé interrupts him.
“The nurses said I shouldn’t go out on the field today.” She smiles bitterly. “Of course, the nurses know not of my capabilities.” She turns to Robert for the first time since he sat down next to her. “Will you tell them?”
Robert frowns. “Tell them what?”
“Tell them I’m fine, and I will be participating in my second shift.”
“Hell no.”
Coupé pauses. The answer is so abrupt she bluescreens again.
“Pardon?”
“Coop, you need to rest,” Robert insists. “There’s no way I’m sending you out again today. The nurses made a great call.”
“But…” Coupé scoffs. “The team needs me.”
“I’ve talked to Blazer. We’re going to hire someone else to replace…”
He trails off, thinking it’s best not to pronounce Sonar’s name directly, but it’s too late. Both him and Coupé look down.
“We’re a man down, so we’re going to get another,” he finally tells her. “Everything is under control.”
But she doesn’t budge. “I need to be there.”
“No, you don’t.” Robert shakes his head. “The entire day, you… you’ve pushed yourself so hard, and now, you’re here.” He’s frustrated as he asks, “Why? Why do you do that?”
“First of all, I didn’t push myself.” She pronounces the word ‘push’ as if it personally wronged her. “I just did what any good hero would, and reached beyond my own limit. Every day, one should strive to be better than the previous one – that’s how humans evolve.”
Robert snickers. Coupé frowns.
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s just…” Robert laughs again. “…you sound like such a pretentious scientist wannabe.”
Coupé bites her lip. “I take my work seriously.”
“Yeah, but so seriously?”
“Any good hero takes themselves seriously.”
“What’s with the ‘good hero’ talk today?” Robert smiles bitterly. “You’re a great hero. Hell, you’ve been exceptional today. What else do you want to do, now that you’ve helped basically everyone on their missions? Prepare the next moon landing? Create colonies on Mars?”
“Robert…”
“I’m serious. How much of a damn perfectionist are you? Take a break.”
Coupé gestures around the infirmary.
“To be fair… I am.”
Robert chuckles. “I mean an actual break. Without being forced by the circumstances. Maybe… you know, at home. Put on a movie and a facemask, I dunno, do something relaxing.”
Her gaze darkens. “Relaxation is for…”
She trails off. Robert looks at her expectantly. She doesn’t meet his gaze.
“For…?”
“For…” Coupé shifts uncomfortably. “Do you really have to look at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m going to break if I’m pushed too hard.”
Robert pauses.
“Well—”
“I know where I am, Robert.”
“Good. Just thought you needed a reminder.”
“Robert…”
“Look, Coop, I’m not trying to be an asshole here—”
“Really, now?”
“But, listen…”
Robert gets off the bed, standing up to look at her better. She looks even smaller now, and the bandages just add to her vulnerability. For once, Coupé doesn’t look like an unreachable, ideal soldier – she looks like a frightened woman, and like a child who grew up too soon.
“You have got to stop pushing yourself to the edge so much. I mean, you could’ve gotten killed today.”
She still avoids his gaze. “I was helping.”
“You were,” Robert agrees. “You were really helpful today. I’m not going to deny that. But after one point, you became…”
He sighs as he searches for the appropriate wording, hands on his hips.
Coupé looks at him with big, yellow eyes.
“Obsolete?”
Robert stares at her.
“…Jesus.” He blinks at her, squinting as if he didn’t hear her right. “I was going to say too tired to function, or… something like that. Where the hell did you get that?”
Coupé shrugs, much too casually for the obvious turmoil she feels inside.
“You’re trying to tell me I’m not useful unless in perfect shape, aren’t you? I let myself go after a few missions, I will admit… I got sloppy, and—”
“Coop,” Robert finally explodes, “what the fuck do you think I’m trying to say right now?”
Coupé stares at him.
“I…” Her lips won’t move. “I just…”
“Do you think—” he scoffs in slow realization— “that I brought you to the infirmary, and begged of you to come back and rest for just two fucking seconds, because I want you to be in tiptop shape in order to fight the bad guys? Because you’re no use to me otherwise?? Because—because you’re not worthy unless always on high alert and prepared to the max?”
It sounds so fucking preposterous, what he’s saying.
And still, Coupé nods. Slowly – but she nods.
Robert just stares at her.
“Jesus fucking Christ…”
He grabs her shoulders.
“You’re not some fucking object for murder, Coop. Do you get that?”
Her gaze is hard to read. She’s an impenetrable fortress, refusing to be discovered. Even though she’s distressed, it’s presumably just because of his tone – not because of his words themselves. Robert wonders if they have any weight on her.
Still, he continues, hoping they do.
“I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for pulling Sonar’s weight, and then Malevola’s, too, after she bailed on us. Genuinely, thank you, Coop, you’ve done a phenomenal job today and we couldn’t have done it without you.”
Her lip trembles.
“Then, why are you mad at me?”
Robert sighs and loosens her grip on her.
“Because you won’t give yourself a damn break, even when you need it.” He says, “This isn’t me condemning you for not being 100% ready for every call I gave you. It’s not me telling you that you didn’t do enough. It’s not me being mad at you for getting hurt, because, oh God,” he mocks, “we failed a call or two, the end is near!”
He gets closer, if such is possible. He can almost feel Coupé’s breath on his own face.
“The only reason I’m mad at you for getting hurt is because you don’t see a damn problem with it. You go on call after call with no breaks, and you get increasingly exhausted, and still you give yourself an impossible standard and—” Robert sighs. “Jesus Christ, Coop, you’re…”
Me.
Uncomfortably, deeply, entirely like me.
Robert sighs and sits back on the bed, next to Coupé. The gap between them is now larger. He should give her some space.
Silence stretches on, hard and awkward. Coupé doesn’t eat anymore; the takeout box is abandoned on the table next to her bed.
Robert drops his head in his hands as he sighs. He wonders how he should put this. Wonders if he has it in him for another speech.
He thinks he does. He needs to.
Coupé is worth the bother.
“I became a superhero at a very young age.”
Robert feels her shift in interest. He continues gently.
“My dad… unexpectedly died on the field, and…” Robert looks up as he recalls the pathetic story of his life. “Being a superhero ran in the family. It went on for generations. It was expected of me to take his place.”
He runs a hand over his face.
“So, I did. And, all of a sudden, I was… more of a superhero than I was a person.” He smiles bitterly. “Between then and now, I’ve learned more, but… Shit, I’m still really bad at keeping a balance between superhero me, and… actual me.”
He turns to Coupé. Coupé looks back.
“Just like you are.”
Maybe he’s imagining things, but he thinks her eyes twinkle.
“Honestly, I still don’t have it under control. I mean, look – at least you’re eating.” He points at the takeout box, by now forgotten, but still there. “I always used to forget, or, when I remembered, sidelined it. I would go days without eating.” Sheepishly, he admits, “I still sometimes do.”
Coupé squints at him. “Well, then, that’s hypocritical.”
Robert smiles, despite himself. “What is?”
“You’re criticizing me, when you, yourself, still do what I do. How is that fair?”
Robert chuckles.
“You’re right. It’s not fair. But I criticize you because I know you can do better. And, well…” He looks away. “I’m trying to get better, too.”
He frowns and says, slowly:
“…I guess the Phoenix Program isn’t just for you guys. It’s also for me.”
Coupé blinks.
“Blazer offered me the job in exchange for me giving you guys a hand, but… Chase was the one who recommended me.” Robert thinks. “I guess he knew I needed it.”
“Did you know Chase before all of this?”
“Oh, yeah,” Robert chuckles, “I knew him well.” He sighs. “But I… haven’t really talked to him lately.”
“Why?”
Robert grins at her. “For the same reasons you don’t ask for help. I’m stubborn. I think I can handle it all on my own.”
Another moment of silence stretches on, but this one isn’t as terrible. Robert even finds it somewhat comforting.
Then, slowly, Coupé asks:
“Why keep me, then?”
Robert looks at her.
“I mean…” She sighs, distressed. “All I’m good at is fighting. Is that not why you kept me? Because you needed me to fight?”
Robert considers with a hum. “Not really, no.”
For a moment, the room is silent. Coupé watches him intently, awaiting his answer like a deer in headlights awaits its imminent death.
But Robert doesn’t plan on hurting her.
“I kept you on the team,” he says slowly, choosing his words carefully, “because I believe of you what I believe of everyone. That you deserve a second chance. That you can do good.”
Judging by the look on her face, nobody has ever told Coupé that before. Robert is that much more determined to be the first.
He takes her hand in his, because he wants her to feel, and remember, that someone believes in her.
“You’re not here to be the perfect tool, Coop. You’re just here to grow.” He squeezes. “All I want is to offer you the space to do that. And I don’t need you to prove yourself to me.”
She doesn’t take her eyes off him. Robert selfishly wishes to have Coupé’s gaze on him like this forever.
“Because I already know I’ve made the right choice.”
She lets out a shaky breath. Robert notices her bottom lip trembling once more. But she doesn’t pull away. Unexpectantly, she squeezes back.
Coupé glances away, but her electric touch stays. She grits her teeth, then opens her mouth to speak. She closes it, opens it, does this a few times before she can finally say:
“Thank you.”
Robert smiles. Without seeing him, Coupé does, too. Small, almost frightened, completely hesitant – but it’s a smile nonetheless, and Robert treasures it as if it’s the entire universe and more.
He gives her hand another squeeze and goes to pull away, not wanting to cross a boundary. Coupé, instead, pulls him back.
“Can…”
Her voice is hoarse. She clears her throat and looks at him. In her eyes swims vulnerability, a rare display that cuts Robert’s breath.
“Can you stay with me while I finish my meal?”
All Robert can do is nod, dumb and infatuated.
“Yeah.” He coughs to hide his voice crack. “Yeah, of course. I wouldn’t want to leave you alone, anyways.”
And never again will I, he wants to say, but doesn’t. He lets his hold on her hand express it for him.
He dares to hope that Coupé’s head on his shoulder means she’s not planning on leaving, either.