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“Robert’s staring at you, dude.”
Sonar’s ears flicker. No amount of clicks will provide enough visual noise for him to discern whatever facial features are on Robert. That and Sonar didn’t even know that Robert was paying the hybrid any mind. They’re on opposite sides of the noisy bar.
He can only rely on his best friend for more details.
“Like a good stare or a bad stare?”
“Hmm,” Malevola draws out a lackluster answer. She takes a sip of her beer bottle, her other hand tapping long nails on the bartop. “Maybe bad?”
“Why?” Sonar suppresses the urge to bang his fists on the wooden counter. “I haven’t done anything!”
“I wouldn’t say that if I were you,” she warns, elbowing him.
Sonar cannot argue that. He knows he is in the wrong, he did join the Red Ring for a brief period of time.
That’s only because Robert Robertson III cut him from the team. A petty motivation but motivation nonetheless. Getting cut means Sonar’s parole officer was gonna lug him back to prison. Or worse, a rehab facility that specializes in medicating hybrids and supers.
Yeah, Sonar knows what really happens there and he’s not making any plans on returning.
So he joined the Red Ring. Kidnapped and beat up the source of his anger.
And what did Robert do in retaliation?
He apologized in the middle of their fight. Then he forgave Sonar and accepted him back to the Z-Team.
Now after a decent week of dispatches in the newly rebuilt Torrance, LA, the team is celebrating in a bar that might not kick them out and for some reason Robert is staring at Sonar.
His ears flicker, nose twitching. Sonar takes in the details of the bar that his eyes cannot provide. A somewhat crowded bar, Z-Team scattered about as they drink and mingle. Robert actually brought them a round of drinks surprisingly. Seemed like he was in a good mood, considering how last week was hellfire. A period of peace. Only one thing can ruin that.
The walking reminder of the Red Ring’s last raid.
“Is he still staring?”
“Yes, wait, nevermind. Colm’s talking to him now.”
His ears flicker again, narrowing down the loud Irish voice calling for Robert’s attention. Knowing Robert’s eyes are off of him, Sonar lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
He mumbles into the lip of his beer bottle, “Why’d you say his staring looks bad? Did he look mad? Sad? S’mad?”
“Expand your vocab, Mr Harvard Graduate.”
Disgruntled. Frustrated. Annoyed. Disappointed.
Regretful.
All are valid feelings that Robert can feel towards Sonar given everything he has done to the hero personally.
He takes a long gulp of beer. Sonar wouldn’t know what to do if Robert regrets forgiving him.
He’s been extra helpful in this returning week. Sonar hasn’t failed a call or sabotaged Waterboy. No injuries, no casualties, no destruction of property, picture perfect clean, just like before.
Yet successful calls and decent behavior did not prevent Sonar from getting cut the first time around.
Would Robert cut him again?
Sonar is shaken out of his thoughts by the gentle hand on his shoulder.
Malevola says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I say, just go talk to him, Vic.”
Right, another one on one talk with Robert. Electric boogalo two or whatever. Sonar has complete confidence that things won’t go to shit.
He finishes his beer.
Yeah right.
“I don’t know Mal. Maybe I don't want to risk rocking the boat or whatever.”
“I haven’t seen you this rattled since the first week you went sober. Robert matters a lot to you.”
Sonar snorts, trying to undercut the truth, “He matters to my paycheck.”
Mal doesn’t bother to elbow him harshly, merely giving him an unimpressed staredown. He knows she’s the one person he can’t lie to.
In a quiet voice he admits, “I don’t want him to hate me.”
Matching his tone, Malevola assures, “He doesn’t. I think he just wants to talk to you.”
If it was anyone else, Sonar would call bullshit, but this is his best friend. He missed hanging out with her. When he got cut, he just up and left their apartment and never returned because he didn’t want the officers after him to go after Malevola. It shouldn’t be strange that Sonar trusted the Red Ring over the local police. They gave him cocaine, prey, and instigated more of his anger towards Robert Robertson III.
Yet Sonar lost all that anger when Robert apologized.
He just doesn’t know if Robert still feels resentment toward him.
“Talking wouldn’t be so bad,” he mutters.
“Great!” Malevola chirps.
Suddenly, Sonar hears the familiar whoosh of Mal opening a portal.
“What are you doing?”
“Just giving Robert a short cut.”
Before he could stop her, Malevola disappears through the portal and someone else steps through.
“Uh, Mal said you needed me for something?”
Taking another gulp of beer, finishing it up, Sonar believes he can do this. He can so do this.
“Hey Robbie, Roberto, Rob Dog.”
Never mind he can’t do this.
Robert stares at him, befuddled long enough to make Sonar sweat.
Then finally he huffs out a laugh, “Wow, that’s a nickname I have never heard before.”
“Yup, I’m so creative. Cause you have a dog and you don’t rob.”
“Hmm,” Robert takes Malevola’s seat, already relaxing his arms against the bar top. “You don’t know my rap sheet.”
“You know mine.” Sonar nudges his elbow at Robert’s arm. “Kinda puts me at a disadvantage.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be a super genius? I’m surprised you haven’t hacked me yet.”
“Hacking? A criminal act of invading someone’s privacy?” Sonar lays an innocent hand over his heart, “I would never do that, no more, Bobert. You wound me.”
He thought it was a good joke, making Robert laugh but instead the man became somber.
Curling over his arms and begins seriously, “Listen Sonar, I just wanna say, I’m sorry,”
Sonar blinks, dropping his hand until the end of his tie, fiddling nervously with it. “I was just joking Robert and if anything, we both know I’m the one who should be apologizing maybe every other month.”
Robert shakes his head. He pushes away from the bar top and faces Sonar. “I’m specifically apologizing for scaring your eye. I know you’re not technically a blind bat but your vision should not have been fucked with. I was only trying to stop you.”
Oh, that kind of explains the staring. It definitely hurt in the moment but it didn’t matter as much during the fighting and the aborted arrest.
Instead of shrugging it off cause it’s no big deal, he blurts, raising his thumb, index, and middle fingers, “What like when you stopped Flambae?”
Robert merely sighs, “Not my best moment, no. Which is why I’m saying sorry right now. Flambae almost incinerated me for that and busting him. I wanted to make sure you didn’t have any lingering feelings of… murder.”
“Towards you, no more.” Sonar waves off, shrugging, “Also I don’t mind, I still rely more on sonar than the minimal vision I have. Besides, scars are hot.”
“You sound just like Courtney.”
“Because she’s right.”
That gets Robert to chuckle. They way his eyes are on Sonar, it’s the same thing he sensed earlier, except there’s no more worry on his end. Simply examining, or memorizing. With all the sound waves around, Sonar has a decent read on Robert along with his own shitty retinal.
The hairs on Sonar’s head raises as Robert leans in, “Is this a long winded talk of getting me to admit you’re hot, Sonar?”
“Uh, are you saying you think I’m hot?”
“Now you’re just putting words in my mouth, Sonar.”
That’s not the only thing I want to put in your mouth.
He doesn’t say that. It was definitely in his mind but no, instead something far more intimate leaves his mouth.
“Victor. Mal told me I missed a whole introduction thing. So, Victor, that’s my real name.”
There’s a look of surprise on Robert, then it softens up into something that Victor cannot believe is aimed towards him.
“Huh, it’s not Victor Victorson right?”
Victor laughs, enjoying how his name sounds on Robert’s tongue, “Oh I would take pride in such a name.”
“Of course you do,” Robert smirks. As he gets off the seat, Robert leans up to Victor’s ear. “And yes, Victor, I do think you’re rather dashing.”
Stunned, Victor stares at Robert as he walks back over to Colm.
Robert gives one last look over his shoulder, a hint of a grin that makes Sonar want to bare his fangs.
Yeah, Robert is definitely not s’mad at him.