Chapter Text
Robert Robertson the Third had already realised by the age of 16 that he didn’t really need anyone. Everyone —almost everyone—was out for themselves.
Either Robert Robertson the Second, or Robbie for short, spent every waking moment working or training his son for the future. Mom was long gone, peacing out after she learned that her nice, normal husband wasn’t quite so normal. A real trendsetter, it turned out—nowadays, Robert could count the friends he had on a single digit. Chase had been more of a parent to him than Robbie ever had (not that he’d ever tell him that).
Still, it had been some time since he had seen him, hero work keeping him busy and all. Honestly, Robbie probably didn't need a babysitter anymore outside of the longer trips—one of which was coming up soon. Some big hero exhibit he’d been hired to attend.
Robert called Chase’s cell. It rang three times before he was greeted with the guy’s familiar laidback drawl. “Heeey, what’s up lil’ man?”
“Was wondering if you’re still babysitting when dad’s away next week?”
“Aren’t you old enough to mind yourself?”
“... I s’pose.”
The distant, fuzzy edges of Chase’s laughter sharpened within milliseconds, Robert's front door fluttering open before he even heard the call disconnect.
“You know you can just ask to hang out, dude.”
Robert just shrugged. He wasn’t so sure about that. Yeah, Chase put up with Robert when he was a kid and literally got paid to do so. But three years change a lot. He didn’t want to embarrass Chase by acting like the annoying little brother he’d never asked for—
That thought ended abruptly when Chase pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight.
“I missed you too, kid.”
“I’m not a kid anymore,” he grumbled.
“Wanna explain why you just called my ass looking for a babysitter then?” Chase let him go, closing the door behind him and then slumping on the couch.
“Shut up.” Robert hovered by the door. “I know I don’t need one. You know it too—it’s dear old dad who doesn't.”
He stared up at the ceiling.
“Protect his legacy,” he said, parroting his father’s words in what was an admittedly poor impression.
“He still on that bullshit?”
“Will be till I take over.”
“Fuck, I been telling Robbie to let you be a damn kid since I met you. You even gone to a party—or kiss a girl, yet?”
He wasn’t offended by the question, which was at once teasing and sincere. Still, it was pointed enough to make him squirm a little. Man, it felt awkward to be pitied by Chase about how little of a life he had and how far behind he was compared to his peers.
“No to the party. He thinks I’ll do something stupid. Reveal his identity for attention, or act in a way that reflects poorly on him. Don’t know why. It’s a secret identity for a reason; I’m not an idiot.”
“And the girl?” Chase asked with a grin.
“Yeah, I’ve kissed people before.”
Chase’s grin didn’t fade, although Robert thought it might’ve softened a bit. Either way, he didn’t dig and Robert was grateful.
Outside of some dares and spin the bottle at summer camp and one time when Chase had organised a sleepover, it wasn’t as if dating was an option for him.
Study, ace school, double major in engineering and programming, achieve peak physical condition, take on the mantle, produce the next heir to our legacy—had been drummed into him for as long as he could remember. No deviations from the life plan that had been set up for him since before his birth.
“Well... look at you, player.” Chase’s tone was soft, but a touch rueful.
Robert sidles over to the couch and perches next to the older hero. “Sorry I’ve not been around more. Robbie’s been running me ragged. It’s like as soon as we put one bad guy away another two show up.”
“Yeah, he’s been busy lately. Didn’t realise it’s why you hadn’t been around too.”
“What, you thought I wanted to be rid of you?”
“Kinda.”
“Well, that’s some sad fucking shit right there.”
Chase leaned back against the couch, arms spread wide as he relaxed. It’d been too long since they’d just hung out together, the dark cloud of Robert’s teenage angst that hung over them both slowly fading away in the comfortable silence.
“So, you gonna stay next week?” he said, trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice, but he doubted it worked.
“Wish I could, but I gotta go to this thing with your dad.”
Chase, of course, immediately noticed the pout Robert tried (and failed) to hide.
“Compromise: I got this friend. Think you’d like him, how about he stays over?”
Robert mulled it over for a moment. “What’s he like?”
“Bit of a hot head, little wild. It’d be good for you to let your hair down. I mean, don’t go crazy, I don’t need Mecha Man to beat my ass cause he comes home to a house in pieces.”
Chase leant forward then speaking almost conspiratorially. “You’re only 16, kid. You need to be living your life, not waiting for a start point. Do the stupid kid shit I was doing at your age—get drunk, smoke a cigarette, dance with somebody you like. Just live a little.”
“Does it count if I already smoke?”
“Shit, since when?”
“Maybe a year?”
They chatted easily for a while until Chase’s alerter went off and he sped out the door and off to work in a blur, his staple “Keep up” being the last trace of him.
Robert went outside to smoke, knowing that any smell of it in the house would result in another lecture about “Health being the top priority for the family business," culminating in a sparring match to see if he was strong enough to beat Robbie. Yet another match that he would lose.
Cigarette finished, Robert tipped the butt down the drain and went back inside to spray himself in cheap body spray to cover up the smell, settling in for another lonely evening.