Chapter Text
It was the following morning and Robert was tired, eyelids drooping and eye bags prominent enough for him to be considered a raccoon. It's not like he didn't get a solid few hours, either- at least, as solid as you can get in a chair, which was still better than he usually got. And yet, he still felt 100 pounds heavier, weighed down by the call of sleep.
Thankfully for Robert, coffee exists. However, before he can make some of his own utilizing the simple coffee maker in the break room, Malevola is shoving an SDN mug into his hands with a smile too cheery for the morning hour. "Made you coffee," She smirks, ruffling Robert's hair. "Oh, uh. Thanks?" Robert replies a bit awkwardly, the gesture definitely unexpected. Deep brown eyes flick down to look over the mug for a moment, assessing the coffee visually before giving it a little sniff, taking in that distinct, warm, earthy scent. There's an undercurrent of something sweeter, though, almost chocolatey.
It takes a few moments, but Robert eventually takes a sip, and Malevola almost seems... relieved? "Wow," Robert sputters a little, glancing back down at the mug for a moment, this time in curiosity rather than apprehension. "How much creamer did you put in this thing?" The man chuckles, typically one for plain coffee but not necessarily minding it. "Enough. You need the calories."
Mal gives him a little side hug, and while in the past he wasn't as comfortable with her natural touchiness, he'd recently found himself growing more accustomed to it and actually not minding as he got closer with her and the rest of the Z-team. It likely had at least something to do with how she handled it when he did shy away, easily pulling away herself and not mentioning it or making Robert feel guilty for having boundaries.
"Need the calories? What are you, my doctor?" Robert jokes with a playful roll of his eyes. "Like you regularly see a doctor," Malevola banters back, and she's not wrong. Robert doesn't remember the last time he saw a doctor, unless you count the occasional unplanned trip to the hospital. "Touché."
Robert takes another sip of his coffee- it's just the perfect temperature, and while the chocolatey creamer is a bit overwhelming, it's still pretty good. "Thanks," He hums after a moment, lips pulling up into a soft grin. Little did he know, Malevola was just as thankful that she'd managed to get some kind of sustenance into him.
It was soon time for the first shift of the day, and when Robert made his way over to his desk, he noticed one of those big, fancy blueberry muffins with shaved almonds on top sat there on the table. "Huh," He hums, reaching out to grab the muffin so he could examine it. "Sonar left it," Chase informs him from where he was peeking over the cubicle wall dividing them. "Sonar? Really?" Robert questions, momentarily glancing away from the baked good to give Chase a curious look.
"Yeah. Looks fucking delicious, right? Probably from some fancy coffee shop," Chase nods. "Want it?" Robert offers, holding the muffin out to the older man. "No, I don't want your damn muffin. It's meant for you," Chase frowns. "There's almonds on top," Robert states, and he knows Chase will understand what he means, having been there when Robert had a panic attack over the smell of almonds as a kid. Little Robert had insisted the almond-based trail mix was poisoned because the scent was the same as the pizza smelled that night, and he even ended up regressing quite a bit in his somewhat recovered eating patterns until Chase finally put it together days later and remembered hearing somewhere that cyanide smelled like burnt almonds. Even then, Robert still refused to eat almonds. It was too familiar in the worst of ways, the smell that preceded one of the most horrific days of his life. Part of Robert still blamed himself for not catching that something was off with the pizza.
Never again.
"Pick them off like a big boy," Chase suggests, a playful undercurrent of teasing to his tone, cutting off Robert's train of thought. Robert considers it for a moment, vaguely registering his stomach cramping with something akin to hunger. It's still too much of an unknown, though, some random muffin. Chase must sense his hesitation, stepping out fully from behind the divider to snatch the muffin from Robert, rip a small piece off, pop it into his mouth, only to shove the muffin back into Robert's hands. A few crumbs stick to the corner of Chase's mouth as he mumbles a "see? It's fine," around the bite of food.
Robert can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but he'd also be lying if he said it didn't ease the anxiety coiling in his gut at the thought of eating the pastry, at least a bit. And while he might still meticulously pick the almonds off the top, Robert does eat a little over half the muffin.
When lunch comes around, Visi shows up at his desk with two raspberry-filled doughnuts balanced precariously in one hand and a bottle of Minute Maid apple juice in the other. "Take one," She tells him, holding out the hand with the doughnuts for the man with a lopsided grin. "Juice is for you, too."
"Oh, um. Thanks?" Robert replies a bit awkwardly, taking the offered food and drink from her, a small but genuine smile playing at his lips. "You remembered," He comments softly, eyes trained on the doughnut for a moment before he sets it and the juice down on his desk. "'Course I did," Visi scoffs playfully.
"What's the occasion?" Robert questions after a beat, earning a pout from Visi. "Nothing. Can't I just do something nice for you?" She huffs jokingly before taking a bite of her own doughnut. That eases Robert's hesitation just a bit, but he still doesn't move to pick the doughnut back up just yet.
"You gonna eat it, or...?" Visi raises a brow, and while Robert picks the treat back up, a feeling of unease still washes over him. "No pressure," She quickly adds, eyes softening with what almost looks like worry, all a bit to Robert's surprise. He figured she might take offence if he refused her offered doughnut, but apparently not. "Just think about it, yeah?" Visi requests quietly, a silent sort of understanding to her gaze. There was something similar about it to Malevola's look earlier that day, and Robert couldn't help but wonder where all of this was coming from- the food, the reassurance, what appeared like concern. What the hell was going on with his team?