Chapter 04: Hesitation
Robert had barely refocused on the board when the door to the dispatch bay opened. Sonar walked in first, followed by Punch-Up, Golem, Malevola, and Invisigal. They moved toward Robert's desk like a slow, determined mob.
Robert didn't look up. "You're supposed to be on patrol."
"Wrapped early." Sonar leaned against the edge of Robert's desk, grinning. "We need to talk."
"I'm working."
"This is more important. You need to ask Robin which brands will be big in the future. Tech companies, fashion, and crypto. Anything that's not public yet. If I can get in early on the next Tesla or Apple, I'm set."
"No." Robert set his headset down. "I'm not using my son like that."
Sonar held up his hands. "I'm just saying-"
"I know what you're saying. The answer is still no."
Punch-Up cut in before Sonar could push further. "Forget the stocks. You need to make sure the kid's eating right. Just look how you turned out." He squinted at Robert. "Does he need to take meds? You look like you're on stuff."
Robert let out a dry laugh, then hesitated. "I... don't know. I didn't ask. The doctor said he was fine."
"Well, you should."
Golem rubbed his chin. "You got a plan for tonight? Kid's gonna need some reassurance." He paused, his tone softening further. "When I first woke up, got made or whatever, my adoptive mom didn't know what the hell to do with me either. But she stayed. That's what mattered." He leaned forward slightly. "Kids just need someone there."
Robert glanced toward the glass partition separating the dispatch bay from the hallway. Somewhere down there, Robin was sitting in the conference room.
Malevola smirked. "Out of curiosity, do you think you raised him as an atheist? Never asked if you or Blazer believed in god or whatever." She tilted her head, amused. "Just wondering if he'll blame it on God or random chance when he learns the truth."
Robert blinked. "I... what?"
"Relax. If you screw it up, we'll all know in about fourteen years."
Robert glared at her. "Thanks. That's super helpful."
The radio crackled. "Dispatch, this is Flambae. We're clear at the strip mall. What's next?"
Robert fumbled to put his headset back on. "Uh, standby, Flambae." He glanced at the board, double-checking the address. "Head to the 405 southbound near Hawthorne. Traffic accident, possible injuries."
"Copy that."
Robert pulled the headset off again, rubbing his face.
Invisigal spoke from the far wall, arms crossed, not looking at anyone. "Kids notice when you lie." Her tone was flat, clipped. "So don't sugarcoat it when you tell him."
The room went quiet.
Robert stared at her, but she didn't elaborate. She pushed off the wall and walked out without another word.
The others exchanged glances but didn't comment.
Sonar straightened. "Alright, we're done here." He clapped Robert on the shoulder as he passed. "But seriously, think about those stocks."
"Get out."
They filed out one by one. Robert waited until the door closed and tried to refocus on the board to no avail. Another call came. "We have chatter on the police band. Possible 211 in progress near the corner of Carson and Normandie. Jewelry store. Sonar, move to intercept. Golem, Malevola, back him up."
"On it," Sonar replied.
Robert set the headset down and stared at the glass. Somewhere down that hallway was a kid who loved his dad. A kid who would have to be told, tonight, that he wasn't him, not really.
#
Mandy sat at her desk, staring at the stack of paperwork in front of her. She was still dealing with all the paperwork that had accumulated because of Shroud. Sadly, she hadn't touched any of it. Her mind kept circling back to Robin. Right now, she had no idea what to feed him for dinner.
She pulled out her phone and started googling. For ten minutes, she skimmed through various parenting sites and advice blogs. 'I don't want to encourage any bad eating habits at such a young age."
Suddenly, her door opened, and Flambae walked in without knocking.
"You need something?" Mandy asked.
"No. You paged me."
Mandy blinked. "I didn't."
Flambae frowned and checked his phone. "Oh. My bad. Prism paged me. Thought it was you."
He turned to leave.
"Wait." Mandy stood. "Actually, I do need something. I need you to go get lunch. For Robin."
Flambae's expression went flat. "You want me to get food for the kid."
"Yes."
"Why me?"
"Because you're here, and I'm asking."
Flambae crossed his arms. "I'm a hero, not a delivery guy."
"You're also on standby for the next hour. You have time."
"I need you to go to a store and get something healthy a nine-year-old would actually eat."
Flambae stared at her. "You're the mom. Shouldn't you know this?"
Mandy's shoulders slacked. "It's literally my first day as one. I'm learning as I go. Now please, just do this."
Flambae muttered something under his breath and turned toward the door. "You're making this everyone's problem, you know that?"
"Flambae. Go. Please…"
He paused at the door. "Anything else? Want me to pick up diapers while I'm at it?"
"He's nine."
"I know. I know. I take care of my niece, you know.."
"Nothing greasy. Make sure it's something he can actually finish."
Flambae shook his head and left.
Mandy sat back down and put her head in her hands. "Is this what my mother went through? I should probably apologize after all these years."
#
Back in the conference room, the rest of Z-Team had gathered again. Coupé was still with Robin in the break room, but the others had taken over the table to discuss the situation.
Prism leaned forward. "Okay, but are we just going to ignore how insane this is? The kid shows up out of nowhere, knows all of us, and we're just... rolling with it?"
"They're waiting until closing to tell him," Golem said. "I doubt that he'll be going home to the same one he knew.
Sonar leaned back in his chair. "I still think we should ask the kid more questions. There's gotta be stuff he knows that we could use to make some serious moolah."
Golem's tone hardened. "Dude, he's like nine. Chill. I doubt he paid attention to that sort of thing growing up."
"I'm just being practical."
"Save it for later, then. We all know the kid's going to be balling his eyes out before he goes to sleep tonight."
"No kidding." Punch-Up frowned. "Look at him, all wide-eyed and innocent. Who knows how scared he'll be when he learns the truth?"
Malevola sighed. "Kid basically lost his entire world if he can't get back."
The table went quiet.
Invisigal was sitting at the far end of the table, staring at the wall. She hadn't said a word since they'd sat down.
Prism glanced at her. "You okay, Visi?"
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
"I said I'm fine." Invisigal's tone was sharp enough to kill the conversation.
The silence stretched. Golem shifted uncomfortably. Sonar looked away.
Sonar cleared his throat. "I still think-"
"Drop it," Punch-Up said firmly. "Besides, this is on Robert and Blazer. Not us."
Golem nodded. "Yeah. But they won't be alone in it."
Malevola smirked faintly. "True. But you have to admit, this is the most interesting thing that's happened all month."
Sonar raised his coffee cup. "Amen to that."
Invisigal stood abruptly and walked out.
The others watched her go.
Prism frowned. "Okay, she's definitely not fine."
Punch-Up said quietly, "This isn't going to go well."
"Should someone go after her?" Prism asked.
"No," Punch-Up said. "Let her be."
Golem sighed. "Give her space."
#
Robert's headset crackled. "Robert, this is Flambae. I'm en route to the grocery store because apparently I'm your babysitter now."
Robert pinched the bridge of his nose. "Copy that."
"Just so you know, I'm billing SDN."
"Noted." Robert muted the channel.
The radio crackled again. "Rob, we need routing for the suspect vehicle heading west on Pico."
Silence.
"Robby?"
Chase leaned over and tapped Robert's shoulder. "Robert."
Robert blinked. "What?"
Chase gestured at the headset.
Robert keyed in. "Copy, Prism. Standby." He pulled up the map, squinting at the feed. "Uh, reroute to Lincoln. Cut them off at the-"
"Already did," Prism said. "You good?"
"Yeah. Fine."
Chase gave him a look but didn't say anything.
Robert stared at his monitor for another minute, then glanced toward the hallway.
He made it fifteen minutes before he found an excuse. He grabbed a folder from his desk and headed down the hall. When he opened the door, Coupé looked up with a flat expression.
"Forgot to give you this." Robert held up the folder.
Coupé's eyes flicked to the folder and gave him a flat look at the obvious lie. "He's fine."
Robert lingered near the table. "Good. Since I'm here, you guys need anything else?"
"No…"
"Okay. Well." Robert shifted his weight. "I'll be around if you think of something." He left before he could embarrass himself further.
Coupé pulled out her phone and opened a new note titled Visit Tally.
Robert made it back to the bullpen and sat down at his desk. Chase swiveled his chair around immediately. "You done?"
"Done with what?"
"With whatever that was." Chase gestured vaguely toward the hallway. "You grabbed a folder you don't need for a report you're not writing and went to check on the kid."
"I was just making sure he's okay."
Chase leaned forward. "Stop being obvious."
"I'm not being obvious."
"You are. You're doing the thing where you pretend you're busy, but you're really just hovering." Chase pointed at him. "Either talk to him or don't."
Robert stared at his monitor. Chase turned back to his screen. "You're not helping him by hovering."
#
Mandy knocked lightly on the conference room door and stepped inside with a bright smile. She carried a granola bar and a bottle of water. "Hey, Robin." Mandy set them on the table. "Flambae's picking up lunch, but this should hold you over."
"Thanks!"
"Of course." Mandy glanced at Coupé, who was watching her with amusement. "Coupé's taking good care of you?"
"Yeah."
"Perfect. I'll be right down the hall if you need me, okay?"
"Okay. Thanks, Mom."
"You're welcome, sweetie." She left, closing the door gently behind her.
Coupé added a second tally mark to her note.
#
Robert stood and walked toward the break room. The route happened to take him past the conference room to glance through the window.
Ten minutes later, Robert was back. This time, he didn't bring anything. He knocked once and stepped inside.
Robin looked up.
Robert opened his mouth. What would a good father say? The question sat heavy in his chest. He closed his mouth. Opened it again. "You, uh-"
He stopped.
Robin waited, expectant.
Robert's jaw tightened. "You still doing okay?"
"Yeah."
Robert nodded slowly. He glanced at Coupé, who was watching him back. He looked back at Robin. "Good. That's... good."
He left.
Robin frowned slightly. He looked at Coupé. "Is something wrong?"
Coupé added a third mark. "Not yet."
When Robert returned to his desk, Chase chastised him. "You've been circling that room for half an hour."
"I'm not circling."
"You walked past it three times."
Robert didn't answer.
Chase sighed. "You're making it worse."
Elsewhere In The City
A small group of thugs sprawled across the steps, drinking cheap beer. One shook a can of spray paint and added another crude tag to the wall.
A girl walked up the sidewalk. Thirteen, dark-skinned, black hair neatly pulled back. Her brown eyes were wide and hopeful. A black tutu with faint blue highlights fluttered around her legs, and her ballet flats were scuffed at the toes.
She held a smartphone with a pink case to her chest and frowned at the empty bars. In her other hand, she absently flipped a balisong trainer like a nervous fidget, slow and careful, the dull blade taped.
The thugs noticed her. One nudged another.
She stopped a few feet away and tipped her chin up. “Hi. Excuse me. Do you know where the SDN building is, please?”
One smirked. “You lost, little girl?”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think I got turned around. My phone is not working.” She showed the screen. “I am sorry to bother you.”
Another leaned back against the stoop. “What’s with the outfit? You in a show or something?”
She glanced down as if embarrassed and gave a tiny curtsy. “Dress rehearsal. My parents were supposed to pick me up. I thought it was this way.” She tried a small smile. “Is it close?”
The first thug stepped down. “Maybe we do. Maybe we don’t.” He eyed her. “What’s it worth to you?”
Her smile faltered. “Oh. It is okay if you do not know.” She hugged the phone to her chest. “Thank you anyway. I can ask someone else.”
“Little attitude, huh?”
She sighed and turned. “Never mind.”
“Hold up.” He reached for her phone. “Let me see that. Maybe I can fix it.”
She pulled it away. The trainer kept clacking.
His grin faded. “I wasn’t asking.”
He lunged and grabbed her arm.
Her face hardened. She twisted, peeled his grip, and stepped through his stance. His wrist hit the trainer’s spine. He stumbled. Her knee drove into his ribs. He hit the wall and slid down, gasping.
Two rushed her. She slipped under a wild swing. The trainer snapped across a wrist. He yelped and kept coming.
She cut between them, stairs on one side, rail on the other. The first swung for her shoulder. She leaned back, let it pass, and popped a short jab to his gut. He folded.
The second lunged from behind. She dropped, spun low, and stabbed the trainer into the back of his knee. His leg buckled. He crashed into the first. Both went down.
A third rushed in and snagged her tutu. She ripped free and cracked an elbow into his forearm. He let go. She swept his legs. He slammed down.
A hand clamped her ankle. She stomped it and turned.
A fist clipped her shoulder and spun her. She rolled with it and came up. The punch came again. She slipped inside and drove her knee into his ribs. He swung wide. She ducked and kicked up under his chin. He dropped.
She tucked the phone into her waistband and reset her stance.
Two more came. The big one threw a right. She redirected it with the trainer and sent it into his buddy’s face. They stumbled together.
She kneed the big one in the stomach, spun, and kicked the other across the jaw. He fell. The big one reached for her again. She feinted high, swept his legs when he bit. He hit the ground.
A skinny one with a teardrop tattoo edged back toward the wall, spray can shaking in his hand.
She flipped the trainer once. “Don’t.”
He looked at the bodies on the steps, looked at her, dropped the can, and ran.
Movement on the edge of her vision. The leather jacket thug dragged himself up the rail. Another groped for a bottle.
“No,” she said, and stepped.
Leather Jacket charged low, trying to drive her into the steps. She slid aside and guided him past. His temple clipped the stairs. He sagged and grabbed for her ankle. She kicked his forearm off.
The bottle swung down. She braced her forearm with the trainer. Glass broke against the rail. She hammered the spot above his collarbone with the trainer’s butt. His hand went numb. So did his legs.
Another swung the spray can like a club. She stepped under it, shoved his arm aside, and walked him up the steps. His shin hit the edge. He folded.
A beer can bounced off her back. She turned. A skinny kid froze with a second throw ready. She pointed at the trainer. He edged into the dark and vanished.
A chain necklace flashed as its owner tried a grab from behind. She sank her weight, stamped his instep, rolled his wrist with the trainer, and spun him to his knees. A palm heel between his shoulders put him flat.
The big one crawled for her legs again and caught more tulle. She tore free, stripped his fingers away, and kicked the side of his thigh. The muscle shut down. He slumped.
“Stop,” she said.
They did not.
Leather Jacket lunged again, sloppy and loud. She slid, and he crashed into his own friend. She vaulted a step to change angle.
One tried to clinch. She let him commit, broke the hold with a sharp pop of hips and shoulders, and bumped his chin with her shoulder. He reeled.
Another snapped a belt. She caught the end of the trainer, yanked, and dumped him forward.
Three came at once, two high, one low. She sprawled on the low one and bounced up before he could clasp. She slapped one high attacker’s ear and jammed the other’s elbow across his chest. They tangled and fell.
Silence returned in pieces. The paint can hissed out. A bottle finished rolling. Breathing settled. Hers steady. Theirs ragged.
She stood on the steps, trainer loose in her grip. Her shoulder throbbed. The tutu sat crooked, blue highlights scuffed.
The teardrop kid had not moved. He stared, then finally bolted for real.
She watched him go and surveyed the scene. She had pulled her strikes. Joints and nerves, nothing lasting. She checked the phone in her waistband, then pulled it out. Still no signal.
Her expression softened. She looked at the groaning thugs, then at her training weapon. “When are Mom and Dad gonna give me a real one?”
Someone coughed. Another swore under his breath.
She put the phone away, squared her tutu, and looked down the street. The SDN building had to be close by.