Flambert Time Loop AU Part 3
They end up back at Robert's apartment. Robert needs to walk and feed Beef, and Flambae is not waiting any longer for answers than he has to. He's never been to Robert's place before, but what greets him upon entry is not what he was expecting.
"Wow, your place fucking sucks." Flambae says as he looks around the barren home.
"Thanks," Robert says dryly. "Wait here while I let Beef out for a bit."
"You trust me alone in your apartment?"
"What are you gonna do? Steal my chair?" Robert quips back as he hooks a leash on Beef's collar. "Feel free to look around." And then he's out the door.
Flambae chuckles. He inspects the apartment while Robert is gone since he has permission to, although he would have done that anyway. He's a nosy bitch, he can admit that. And wow, it really is empty. And depressing as hell. No bed, no closet, Robert is just living out of boxes. He has his priorities straight though, Flambae notes as he sees a proper dog bed in the corner. At least the small kitchen island has two bar stools bolted into the floor. They won't need to sit on the concrete for the ensuing conversation. A noise at the door grabs his attention, and he watches Robert and Beef walk back inside. Robert unhooks the leash and fills Beef's food and waterbowl. Then, he takes a six-pack of beer out of the fridge and sets it on the kitchen island with a soft thunk. Flambae takes that as his cue to seat himself on one of the bar stools, Robert taking the other one and handing Flambae a beer before he opens one for himself. They sip at their beers for a bit, the silence dragging on except for the crunches of Beef going to town on his dinner.
'Fuck it,' Flambae thinks, 'I'll start then. My therapist will be so fucking proud of me.'
"So, I thought I just had a really vivid and fucked up dream, but your reaction has me thinking otherwise..." he trails off, giving Robert the chance to jump in.
Robert sighs, running a hand through his hair and throwing back the rest of his beer.
"The short of it is: I'm in a time loop. Have been for a while now."
"Shit, for real?" Flambae's eyes widen in shock, mouth hanging open. That wasn't the answer he was expecting to hear. He was thinking more along the lines of a shared hallucination or something, not a fucking time loop of all things. At the same time, Robert wouldn't lie about something like this. "How the fuck did that happen?"
And so Robert tells him about the original timeline; how the Astral Pulse explosion send him back in time to the end of his coma and how he hasn't stopped looping back since.
"Wait, the end of your coma?" Flambae asks.
"Yeah, is that not when you turned back?" Robert asks confusedly.
"No, I woke up in bed right after you exploded your Mech suit during your fight with Shroud four months ago."
Robert furrows his brow in thought. Then he says, "If we're both in this time loop, shouldn't we be looping back to the same point in time? Us going back to two separate points makes no sense. Well, as much as a being in a time loop can make sense anyway."
"Hmmm," Flambae says. "Well, what if you don't remember? I mean, looping back shocked me awake; my heart was racing. You can't do that if you're in a coma. You'd just stay asleep or whatever."
"That would mean the Astral Pulse explosion is somehow connected through time to the first explosion that put me in a coma," Robert hypothesizes.
Flambae hums again and takes another sip of his beer. "That would make more sense than us going back to separate moments. By the way, what triggers a loop back anyway?"
"My death. Every time I die, I turn back time. Nothing else has triggered a loop," Robert says tiredly.
Flambae puts his drink down. A sickening feeling roils in his stomach. It hits him all of sudden, what it means that his dream wasn't actually a dream but a previous time loop. It happened. It was reality, even if for only a moment. He really...
"How are you okay with me being here right now?" The words come out softly.
"Bob Bob, I murdered you." Flambae says in an anguished tone, his hands shaking. He turns away, unable to look Robert in the eyes. "How can you just sit here with me?"
"Because you didn't mean to," Robert says, as if it's obvious. As if that makes it okay.
"And how the hell would you know that?! I-" Flambae cuts himself off, unable to say the rest, the smell of burned flesh brought back to the forefront of his mind.
"Flambae," Robert says emphatically, causing Flambae to look back at him, "I lost count of how many loops I've endured. To be honest, they kind of started blending together after the tenth one. But, in every other loop that I confessed to being Mecha Man, you forgave me. Yes, you would lose your shit at Del Taco, but we would make up afterward. So I know for a fact that you did not actually mean to kill me last time."
"Oh," Flambae says in a small voice. Somehow, Flambae is both equal parts relieved and angry with himself with that information. Relieved, because he was not some murderous psycho who killed Robert every chance he got, and angry -and let's be honest, disappointed in himself- that the one loop he remembers is him killing Robert and now he has to live with that knowledge, the guilt, possibly forever.
Flambae clears his throat, then, "You're right; I didn't mean to, but I did it anyway. So, I'm sorry. For killing you."
God, his therapist was gonna be so fucking proud of him.
Robert gives a tiny smile, "Thank you, and I forgive you."
Something small unfurls in Flambae's chest as a weight he didn't know he was carrying falls off of his shoulders. He feels ten times lighter.
"You know," Robert says, as he leans and places an arm onto the kitchen counter, "I wasn't expecting this kind of character growth from you."
"Oh fuck off." Flambae grumbles halfheartedly. "I went to therapy, bitch."
"They teach you to call people bitch in therapy?" Robert teases.
Flambae hesitates. 'Might as well tell him. In for a penny...'
"No, Mecha Bitch, I just figured out I don't actually blame you for putting me in prison." Flambae says.
"You... don't?" Robert asks confusedly, his brow slightly furrowed as his eyes flick down towards Flambae's right hand.
Flambae rolls his eyes. "Oh, don't get me wrong, I totally blame you for cutting off my fingers. But I was doing villain shit and you were doing your job as a hero, so I don't blame you for like, the actually arresting me part, you know?"
"I see," Robert says. "Well, for what it's worth, I am sorry about that. Not about arresting you, but for cutting your fingers off, I mean."
That small thing flutters inside Flambae's chest.
"Thanks," Flambae says. He takes a deep breath, then sighs loudly, "I suppose I can forgive you as well. In time. Maybe."
"Oh how benevolent of you."
"Shut up and give me another beer, Bitch Bob."
"Well now I don't want to."
"Bitch, I pour my heart out to you and this is how you repay me?!" Flambae exclaims in mock outrage. He makes a grab for the pack of beers, but Robert snatches them up and holds them behind his back with a chuckle.
'It's a nice sound,' Flambae thinks.
"Give me a beer before I scorch your eyebrows off," Flambae threatens, "You don't have the face for it, trust me."
"You would know, wouldn't you?" Robert smirks, but he hands Flambae a beer anyway.
Okay so they had their heart to heart pretty early, but in my defense, Flambae has like, 4 months of intense therapy behind his belt, Robert has been looping for months and has a had a lot of time to think, and also they're drunk. Or tipsy, at least. Yeah, let's go with that.
I also spent way too long writing and rewriting this conversation, but I'm finally happy with it.