Chapter Text
It was a logistical choice when she thought about it. A matter of numbers, what looked better on the quarterly review. The ex-assassin or the guy who was really great at scamming people, who's the better choice to be a hero? It made sense to her.
So Janelle forgave him, but not before he forgave her.
She’s back on the team again and has been given her third chance. One that she’s not completely sure she deserves, but Robert had given it to her regardless. It’s been about three months at this point, and the team has welcomed her back into their circle with little to no complaints. They were happy to have her, and she had to admit that it was great to be there with them. Despite working with Shroud, nearly taking over L.A., and the torture, Robert seemed to hold no grudges. She asked him after about a month why exactly he let her back, and in pure Robert fashion, he responded with some inspiring mini speech. It was about how they were a family, everyone deserved forgiveness, and if he had the choice, then nobody would’ve been cut. He was forced to make a choice and wished that he had fought harder for her to stay. Well, he didn’t actually start with that, but eventually he got there.
“Punch Up would’ve stopped bringing in bread for me if I let you go again.” Was the first answer. To be fair, she knew this was his way of lightening the mood first. But having dated Colm on and off for about 2 years before joining the program, she was quite knowledgeable about his skills in the kitchen and would’ve done the same.
“I can’t argue with that. He could’ve been a baker in another life. One of the famous ones with a wholesome TV show.”
He would then snap, point at her, and say, “Exactly.”
She was almost envious of Robert and Colm’s friendship, actually. He now makes the dispatcher a loaf of bread every other week, passes off a muffin in the mornings on days he swings by the cafe she used to read in. He does small things for the rest of the team occasionally, like inviting Waterboy over to make, frankly, a shit ton of cookies and pastries for his grandmother’s church event. The leftovers were shared with the team the following Monday, and they were absolutely delicious. Two men raised by a single woman each created a potent baking duo that the team was lucky to have. But no one else received a personal loaf of sourdough bread every two weeks except Robert. No one except the man who let her back onto the roster with a smile after she hung him upside down and stabbed him in the shoulder. Honestly she should be the one to bring him gifts, something to say “I’m sorry for teaming up with the man who killed your father and put you in a coma” But instead she watches from afar, does what she's told to do on calls, and envies the way she's not the one to hand off or to taste the bread she knows tastes wonderful with a light layer of honey butter on a Saturday morning.
She and Colm were very close before she was cut, but now she can’t seem to bring herself to let herself be that close anymore. She knows he’s noticed she's been distancing herself from him, watching from afar but never close enough to be a part of the conversation. It’s why she took up Alice’s offer to become roommates instead of moving back in with Colm. The two of them actually got along quite well at the apartment. Now, there wasn’t any synergy between them in the field; their fighting styles were too different, and the difference in energy was very apparent. But it seemed to work in the apartment, Alice gets to pay a little less rent, and Janelle got to take the few books she truly cherished out of the storage unit and put them on a shelf again. They were some of the only items she took with her the night she was fired. She broke into Colm’s place the day after for the rest of her things; there wasn’t a lot in the first place since she was used to living minimally. She fought with him when she left; she wanted to avoid continuing the conversation any further.
Theyre on much better terms now. The synergy they had together never really dissipated. Robert dispatches them together quite often. They cover each other's blind spots like a dance, long range and short range, blunt force and slices, air and ground coverage. They’ve been opposites, but in a battle, they are complementary as can be. He trusts her, and she trusts him, while they both place their lives in the hands of their dispatcher, who sees how well they work together and knows where to place them. This job is formed on the mutual respect for one another, and the knowledge that there is someone to hold you up when you fall. She knows that Colm is one of the only people she could go to for almost everything. While they're yet to grow close once more, he is the only one she could talk to about her current issue.
Which brings her to today. Standing silently behind Punch Up in the break room while he makes two cups of coffee in paper cups, adding hazelnut creamer in one and a pack of Swiss Miss in the other. There weren’t any packs of the hot chocolate mix here yesterday, or any other time she's been in here. A shame, really. Colm stirs the powder in. He’s humming a song he found a year ago, perhaps a little off tune, but no one needs to know that. Wearing the usual uniform of his, suspenders and a plain button-up, this time a muted blue. No wraps on his hand just yet; he usually puts them on after he makes coffee for himself. Janelle probably should've said something by now, a “Good Morning” or “Hey Colm”, but she stands there staring at him while trying to figure out how to ask him for what she believes is a very big favor. He finishes making the coffee, places lids on them, and begins to turn around. So, she decides to be blunt.
“Our jobs are in danger.”
“JAYSUS!” She really should've announced her presence beforehand. “Christ… Coupe ya can't sneak behind a lad holding a couple hot drinks now can ya.” He manages not to spill either of the cups despite the scare, unintentional as it may be.
“You wouldn’t get burnt though?”
“Y’know the idea of it,” He hands her the cup with Swiss Miss in it.
“Mmm, I suppose I do.”
“Now what’re sayin’ ‘bout our jobs?”
It started after her talk with Robert. He occasionally goes out on shifts with the crew when it seems like they need an extra hand. Blonde Blazer, who’s more often than not Mandy in the office, takes over dispatching for the team. Chase has been using the amulet more, and the two of them are quite pleased with the arrangement. Robert connected a small screen in the Mecha Man suit to the SDN network, so he’s still able to give input and track where the team is when he’s on duty. On most nights, though, he’s out there on his own terms. From what she's gathered, he's been allowed to send himself to calls he picks up on the network, but also helps out people who don’t use the subscription. She overheard one of the night dispatchers talking to Robert during the lunch break once. The night crews appreciate his help; the teams on night shift are a little smaller than the day shift, and they’ve been understaffed with a hero gone for medical issues and a couple out on maternity and paternity leave. Robert lets the man know that he's happy to do it for the time being and likes being out in the field again. He lessens the load on the night shift and the dispatchers since he sends himself out. Yet there's a pretty big difference between him and the other heroes; Robert has no backup. So she follows him; this is her “thank you”. He gave her a chance, so she’s going to be there without him knowing; she is his backup. So far, she has yet to intervene; he’s always been able to hold his own. But a small part of her feels better knowing that if he ever needs it, she will be there to help.
Then he started to take hits that he could’ve avoided. He gets out of the suit to fight up close; hand-to-hand has always been one of his stronger areas. She knows he has his full range of vision since the mask doesn't cover his peripherals, yet he makes less effort to dodge out of the way of a few punches. Nothing that would be devastating, he leans away when it's a weapon or better aimed, so he’s obviously paying attention. He just lets it happen. Then he starts getting riskier, taunting a guy with a crowbar or unnecessarily swinging from a hanging sign when he could've kicked the guy without it. She’s seen him fight in the day, and she sees the difference. He’s efficient, calculated, doesn't make any moves he doesn’t need to because anything extra could take a fraction of a second he needs later. He has no powers, no healing, just a suit and a mind firing off at all times. So at first, she thought he wanted to have a little fun with it; she couldn't understand why he'd want that, but considered it as an option. Yet it progressed to him taking on more than he could comfortably, and he began taking hits and nursing injuries he didn’t need. Going out for longer and longer each night. It was self-destructive in ways she’s familiar with. She fought a few targets who knew what was coming, that they were going to die. They fight, but they don’t truly put in an effort to come out victorious, just enough to make sure they go out swinging. So watching Robert fight like a man who doesn't care if they lives or not is concerning.
“I think Robert might get himself killed.”
Punch Up nearly spits the coffee out. She might owe him a new cup at this point.
“What.”
“I’ve been watching him; there are signs of him not caring about his own well-being.”
“Fuck ya mean watchin him?”
“When he’s out at night.”
“Ah, being a stalker.”
“Well…maybe.” Coupe knew she wasn’t supposed to, but as long as she wasn’t caught, she'd be fine. Right?
“Not a maybe, is it?” Punch-Up knew her the best after all. Hit the nail on the head, though he wouldn't need a hammer with his powers. But she was the one who needed to be clear in this moment; she's the one who needs his help. She sighs and continues.
“Robert. He’s starting to act like some of my previous targets. The ones who knew why I was sent and accepted their end. They'd fight me on instinct, but never put in an effort to survive. Those ones, Knuckles, the kind you pity while fighting.” He looks up at her, slowly showing a little more concern. She’s trained for years to be unreadable; no one could tell if she was truthful or not. But Colm trained himself to read her too. He knew every word she spoke was undoubtedly the truth in her eyes, but that didn't mean he wanted to believe it.
“What are you sayin' ere?”
“I don’t think he’s making a lot of effort to survive right now.”
“Shite...”
“This is why I need your help; someone needs to check on him.”
“And ya can’t?”
“Colm. If I go up to him and ask, ‘Do you want to kill yourself?’ It sounds like I am offering my services.”
“No, you could, wait- no, no don't ask him bout it, and ye got it right. Sound like that for sure, lass.”
“Thank you. You get it.”
“Well, I dunno if that's quite true now. Not really seeing what ye are. Robbie's just happy to be back in action, isn't he?”
“Maybe, but think about it. This is job security; if he gets himself killed, we would get assigned a new dispatcher or be stuck with Mandy. Neither of those options is good long-term, and we would likely end up back where we started, or we would get sent to new teams.”
“Hmm… Listen, I get why ye worried and all, but I don't know if we can dive right into it and ask himself. It's an awkward talk to be had.”
“You won’t help me then,” maybe she shouldn't have brought it up, she's probably overreacting,” Sorry for bothering you with this.” She turns to leave, but her free hand is grabbed first. She looks back at Punch Up, who she realizes was not done talking. He lets her arm free and glances at the clock. Ten minutes till their shift starts.
“Didn’t say that now. I jus think we needta walk lightly here.” He pats her lower back before walking ahead of her, he waves his hand in the air lazily at the same time. “I'll go ahead and check on him for ye, we have a bit till work anyways now.”
He struts out of the break room, grabbing a small bag from the table with his free hand and drinking his coffee with the other. Coupe looks down at her coffee and back at the door as it closes. He was skeptical the first time she mentioned she takes her coffee with a pack of hot chocolate; he didn’t think it would really work out. The man could cook, bake, and when she lived with him, she found out he was a slight coffee elitist. But he humored her all the same, bought a box of Swiss Miss the next time they went shopping. She takes a sip, then glances at the counter and the newly opened box of hot chocolate by a bag of coffee beans.
“Thank you…”
Coupe finishes her coffee on her way to meet with the rest of the team.