Work Text:
Robert never thought he’d be thankful for Sonar’s affinity for drugs.
They’re spending another Friday night at the Sardine, celebrating a week’s work well done. None of them tries not to get too drunk when out partying with the team, so Robert is only one drink deep and is about to start nursing his second one when Sonar drifts over to the table from where he had been playing pool.
His nose twitches, and his gaze snaps over to the cocktail in Robert’s hand, honing in on it. Between one blink and the next, Sonar snatches the drink from his grasp, bringing it closer to his nose to smell it again.
“If you wanted a sip, all you had to do was ask.” Robert teases, but Sonar doesn’t drink it. Instead, he unceremoniously dumps the full glass onto the floor, drawing the attention of the others at the table.
“Are you a little too drunk there, babe?” Malevola asks, torn between confusion and concern.
“Yeah,” Prism complains, “That shit is expensive.”
Sonar ignores them, staring at Robert. “Did you drink any of this yet?” He asks seriously.
“I know my limits. You don’t need to switch me over to water just yet.” Robert reassures.
“This was drugged, Robert. Did you drink any of it?” Sonar demands again, still holding the glass in his hands.
“No. I was about to, but I hadn’t yet.” Robert replies, feeling like he’s been doused in a bucket of cold water. Any sort of pleasant buzz he had been building was gone now.
“Drugged?” Coupe’s voice interjects, dangerously light.
“Yeah, strong stuff too. I could practically smell it from across the room. Did you run into any weirdos?”
“It’s a villain bar,” Prism points out. “We’re all weirdos.”
“None of us is the type of weirdo that uses a date rape drug.” Sonar points out, and the others murmur to themselves in agreement.
“Someone hit on me when I went up to the bar earlier,” Robert admits.
“And you didn’t think to tell us?” Malevola asks.
Robert shrugs. “Didn’t think it mattered. I told them no and moved on.”
“What do they look like?” Coupe asks, scanning the nearby area for suspicious-looking people.
“This is why I didn’t want to say anything.” Robert sighs. “I knew you would all freak out.”
“Someone tried to roofie you, Robert. I think we’re entitled to freaking out.” Prism deadpans.
“We caught it in time; can’t we just let it go?”
“Absolutely not.” Malevola disagrees. “We got lucky that Sonar is knowledgeable about drugs and has the nose of a bloodhound when it comes to them.”
“Tell us what they looked like, or I’ll send Punch Up after everyone in the bar.” Coupe threatens.
“I’m sure Flambae would have choice words for some of the patrons.” Prism agrees.
“Okay, okay,” Robert relents. “I don’t know. He kind of just looked like a guy. Blonde hair. He was wearing red, I think.”
Prism nods approvingly, typing into her phone. No doubt, sending the info to the Z-Team group chat. Robert sinks a little in his seat, torn between touched and embarrassed. He’s happy to not go home drugged tonight, but it feels a little dramatic to kick up all this fuss for just him.
Sonar settles himself next to Robert, placing the contaminated glass on the table away from the rest. It was probably best if no one touched it until it had a chance to be cleaned. “Does no one else feel weird?” He questions. “Was it just the one glass?”
“Maybe we ought to get new drinks,” Malevola suggests when everyone confirms they’re feeling okay. “Just in case it was meant for more of us.”
“I’ll go,” Prism offers. “Want to come with? I could use the extra eyes to watch them.”
Malevola goes with her, leaving Robert sandwiched between Sonar and Coupe. They strike up a casual conversation, but Robert notices how they’re keeping an eye on their surroundings, just in case. Coupe shifts, lightly pressing her leg against his, as if offering comfort even while keeping up her conversation with Sonar. Robert has a sneaking suspicion they’re not going to let him out of their sight for a while.
Prism and Malevola return to the table with the drinks, and Sonar checks them over just to be sure before they’re passed around.
“Did you still want one?” Prism asks hesitantly, like she’s trying not to make a big deal out of it but also doesn’t want to assume.
Robert just grins. “Yeah, you still owe me that second drink.” He teases, taking the offered glass. He can’t help but be relieved that it looks different than the pinkish-colored drugged drink Sonar had tossed out, because it makes it easier for him to reassure himself it’s okay. He takes a sip of the blue-colored drink and is surprised it tastes a little like cotton candy under all the alcohol.
“This is good.” He makes sure to compliment, and everyone seems to relax a little.
The stilted air clears as Sonar drags Malevola and Prism into their conversation, and Robert relaxes as things return to normal. It only takes a few minutes for that peace to be ruined again. Heads turn as a loud crash echoes through the bar, and the slight smell of smoke wafts through the air.
Sure enough, Robert turns to see the rest of their team crowded around someone on the floor, Flambae’s hands ablaze. “They’re going to burn the place down.” Robert sighs, gesturing for Sonar to move so he can try to de-escalate.
Sonar lets him out but follows right behind him, the others coming along as well, not wanting to be left out. Robert was right; his whole team was going to hover and be insufferable for weeks now.
“You think this is something you can just get away with?” Flambae is saying as they approach.
“Everything okay over here?” Robert cuts in, and the little group looks at him.
“Is this the guy, lad?” Punch Up asks, and Robert glances down to see the man who hit on him earlier.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” The blonde insists, and given the way he’s curled up on the floor, Robert assumes Punch Up has already dealt with him. “Tell your crew to back off.”
“Then I assume it’ll be okay if I let my friend string you up by your toes,” Invisigal says nonchalantly, gesturing to Golem, “if he didn’t mean anything by it either.”
“C’mon,” the blonde pleads with Robert again, “It wasn’t anything serious. Nothing even happened."
Coupe whips a blade from her back, the dagger embedding itself in the ground inches from the man’s hand. “That was me not being serious as well. You’re lucky nothing happened, or you would already be dead.”
Malevola nods. “I know of a special place for people like you.”
“Guys,” Robert cuts in, trying to resolve things without any more harm. “It’s f—“
“If you say 'it’s fine,' I’m telling Chase.” Golem’s gravely voice interrupts, and Robert freezes mid-word. Chase would give him the lecture of a lifetime if he found out about tonight, and probably still will. It just might not be as bad if he finds out Robert didn’t try to brush it off.
Robert sighs, rubbing his face in his hands before glancing up at the situation in front of him. “Just… don’t get us kicked out again.”
“What?” the blonde exclaims in fear as the group cheers.
“Mal, if you would,” Invisigal says, gesturing to the nearby wall. “I think it’s best if we take this outside, don’t you think?”
“My pleasure,” Malevola agrees, slashing a portal through the wall to the parking lot out back. Flambae snatches the blonde by the back of his jacket as he tries to get away, dragging him through, the smell of burning leather following after them. Others are quick to follow until he’s just left standing next to Sonar, Malevola, and Prism.
“No property damage!” Robert calls after them, but the portal slides shut, so he isn’t sure they heard him. “Shit,” he says, staring at the smudge on the wall. “I should’ve said not to kill him.”
“No need to worry, Bobby Boy,” Sonar reassures, throwing an arm over his shoulder and guiding him back to their table. “We’re heroes now; we don’t do that anymore.”
Robert wishes he could be just as sure. He has a small feeling that they might be willing to make an exception for this, but tries not to think about it. That can be for when he does damage control.
“Visi reassures me they’ll keep it to a light maiming,” Prism says, glancing up from her phone long enough to look him in the eye for a moment. “Just enough to get the point across, you know?”
Robert isn’t sure that makes him feel much better. Maybe if he gets drunk enough, he can claim plausible deniability. “I’m surprised you’re not out there with them.”
“Oh, I already doxed him,” Prism says, typing on her phone again.
“Relax, babe,” Malevola says, nudging him with her tail. “Like Sonar said, we’re heroes now. We’re not going to do anything that will look too bad for us. And even if we did, people would probably support us.”
“Hey, look. Anytime you want to try some of the fun stuff, come to me. Don’t take your chances with some rando at a bar, you know?” Sonar offers.
“I don’t think I’ll be taking you up on that anytime soon,” Robert says, taking a sip of his drink. Sonar had checked all of the drinks over again when they got back to the table, so everyone was content to pick up where they left off. “But, uh, thanks, guys.”
“For offering to do drugs with you?”
Robert rolls his eyes but smiles. “For helping out with this whole… thing.”
“You didn’t have to ask.”
“Yeah, no one likes coming down from a bad trip.”
“You’re our dispatcher, Robert.” Malevola says, wrapping her tail around his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze, “whether you like it or not. And we look out for one of our own.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Prism says, raising her glass in the air in a faux toast before taking a sip.
“Absolutely,” Sonar agrees, doing the same.
Robert takes a sip from his glass, Sonar’s arm still thrown protectively over his shoulder. He can't help but feel safe with members of his team on either side of him, like his own personal set of bodyguards who wouldn't let anyone within arm's reach if he didn't want them to. He tries to ignore the slightly warm feeling in his chest, knowing that his team has his back, even if it is just dealing with a guy who gets pissy when told no.
All things considered, maybe tonight's not so bad.