Could you please do something with this concept?
Robert is hit by some kind of Fear Gas and it takes a while to take effect, but when it does, Robert is hyperventilating, trembling and almost crying, muttering incoherent things and trying his best to curl up in some corner
Whenever someone came near, he would try to avoid being touched and say something like, "Please don't hurt me!"
Hmm, I'm gonna turn this into Flambert.
When Robert wraps up his patrol that night, he heads straight home. The team had invited him out for drinks and karaoke after their shift, but with the Mech fully functional and permission given to return to hero work, Robert had taken to late night patrols when he got done dispatching.
He wasn't paid for them, and he lost sleep almost every night for it, but Robert thought it was worth it to at least save a couple people every day.
And it'd definitely been worth it that night. Right towards the end of his patrol, there'd been a minor villain attack not too far from SDN, with a family right in the crossfire. It was almost too easy, how he'd been able to get the family to safety and arrest the villain. Although the smoke that seemed to seep out of the villain's skin and into the Mech's cockpit had been strange, nothing happened so Robert didn't dwell on it for long.
He was just happy no real damage had been done, but he couldn't ignore the strange feeling of panic thrumming through him after breathing in that weird smoke, which only seemed to worsen as time went on.
Not one to let a little freak out take him down, Robert chose to ignore it, though it didn't seem like the correct choice once he got home.
His heart pounded in his ears, pulse skyrocketing with sudden fear. All at once, everything around him turned into a threat, all waiting to jump out at him. Robert slammed his back into his door, shoving himself into the corner when the shadows seemed to creep closer, walls closing in around him like reaching hands.
Then, a bright shape touched down on his balcony, and the sliding door slammed open, and the panic increased tenfold.
Flambae almost thought Robert was messing around, when he stepped into the dispatcher's apartment and the first thing out of his mouth was a blurted, “Don't hurt me!”
He scoffed, stepping closer out of spite, but then he heard a shuttered, gasping sort of sob, and he stopped in his tracks. Flambae looked closer, staring into the darkness at the man huddled into a corner.
He was breathing too hard, trembling, eyes wide and darting all around, and. . . He was crying.
Flambae thought back to all the times he'd seen Robert cry, which was a whopping zero, and realized that something was actually wrong here.
So, he slowly held his hands up, stepping forward only when Robert was looking, trying to show that he wasn't a threat.
“Hey, come on Bob-Bob, the fuck’s up with you, huh?” He murmured, voice quiet but teasing.
“Stop,” Robert breathed out, more of a wheeze than a statement. Flambae did as he was told, halting in his tracks, although it didn't seem to make Robert feel any better.
“You didn't answer our texts, bitch,” Flambae said just to break though the silence, not even caring if Robert heard him or not, “Everyone wants to drag you out for drinks tomorrow, since you keep bailing on us, but you wouldn't fucking respond to anyone. They're all worried, y'know? You should check in on them, fuckin', tell them you're alive.”
Robert's breathing seemed to slow the more Flambae rambled, so he started speaking again, all the while inching closer and closer to the freaked out man, “I wasn't fucking worried though, I knew your dumbass got into some stupid shit you can't handle. Looks like I was right, as usual,” He gloated, stepping closer.
Robert blinked, craning his head to stare up at him. The tears were still flowing, but he wasn't actively freaking out.
Flambae knew he was about to make it worse though.
He dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around Robert in a vice grip.
Robert tried to rear back, failed, and made a noise akin to a wounded animal, thrashing in his hold. Panic renewed, he seemed hellbent on escaping, but Flambae wouldn't let him.
He hauled Robert upright, dragging him across the room to where he knew the man's unused bedroom was. It was pitch black in there, with zero furniture, and no windows. The lack of objects in the room only made Robert's quickened breaths and sobs echo.
Flambae seated himself in the center of the room, still holding Robert, and ignored the man's cries and animal panic for now. Instead, he held a hand out in the dark, and lit the tiniest of fires in the palm of his hand. Robert freaked out more at first, straining in Flambae's one-armed hold, but eventually he focused on the flame long enough to lose the fight in him. Robert breathed out shakily, sagging against Flambae, eyeing the fire as if hypnotized.
“That's right, watch this,” Flambae muttered, weaving the flame around his fingers. Robert slumped further against him. This close, he could feel how erratically the man's heart was beating, but it'd started to slow to a somewhat normal rhythm. Robert reached out like he was going to touch the fire, but Flambae held his hand further away, “Nuh uh, depressed bitches don't get to touch fire, that's rule number one, Bob-Bob,” He snarked.
Robert huffed a vaguely amused sound, settling back while they both waited out the panic. He already seemed so much calmer now, either from Flambae's presence, or the warmth and light of his fire.
This isn't really exactly what was prompted, but it's late so I kinda rushed through this. 😅
