Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hate is a strong word.

But then again, “strong” could be used to describe all of his emotions. Volt always liked to call him an “angry little thing”, as if he wasn't a vast and powerful being that could kill upon contact. But Volt was very handsome, and also his husband, so he gets a pass.

Eddie didn't really care about much, which meant that the things he did care about received more “caring-about” than normal. The things he liked were loved, and the things he didn't… well.

Honestly speaking, his hatred for Keith was mostly unwarranted. The guy didn't do anything beyond not liking him and making that fact apparent at first meeting. But Eddie was nothing if not petty, and so their bitter rivalry was formed.

He truly couldn't care less about what Keith was up to when he's not around, but if you put them in the same room, you bet your ass Eddie would find a way to rile him up.

“Quit it,” Dorian murmured as he typed something into the holo-screen, a crease forming between his brows as he received a quick reply.

Eddie huffed, continuing to play with the other man’s hair, lightly messing up the perfectly slicked-back style. In the corner of his eye, he could see Keith standing in the exact same spot, unmoving. He must be staring daggers beneath that mask right now.

“Eddie,” Dorian reprimands, again, this time lightly swatting him away and fixing his hair. His focus was still on the screen and whoever the hell it is he's probably arguing with. Eddie didn't care enough to take a peek.

What he did care about is the fact that Keith’s jaw was twitching. How fun. Eddie continued with his pestering, this time poking Dorian's cheek.

“What do you want?” Dorian finally had enough and grabbed his wrist, waving away the hologram with his other hand.

“Finally,” Eddie grinned. “I'm bored and I want attention.”

“You know you could just fuckin’ ask,” he sighed, giving him a quick peck on the lips. Oh, Keith hates that. “Hold on a tick, Lux is being stupid again and I need to talk them out of something.”

“When are they ever not being stupid,” Eddie pouted, closing the holo-screen again when Dorian attempted to boot it. He moved to the other man's front and wrapped his arms around his neck, leaning in for a whisper. “You know you can just… send him to deal with it, right?”

Dorian paused for a moment, and Eddie decided that his next move would be to nuzzle his face into the crook of his neck. He could feel Keith's murderous energy without even looking.

His lips broke into a victorious smile when he felt a hand on the small of his back.

“You,” Dorian spoke towards the, ah, unwanted third person. “Go check on Lux, make sure they get home safe and sober.”

There was a second of silence followed by footsteps leading out of the office, giving Eddie a rush of giddy delight.

He won this round, again. Just like he always did.

Chapter Text

“Well, well, well, look what the d̸̙͘ǒ̶͍g̶̦̕ dragged in.”

Keith took off his mask and gave her an unimpressed look.

“Isn’t it supposed to be a cat?”

“Details, details,” Deenah blew a raspberry. “Speaking of cats, you’re l̵a̵t̵e̴. Luckily Tim is off on another a̸p̴p̵o̴i̷n̵t̷m̸e̸n̸t̵.”

“I know. I’m late because I didn’t want to see his ugly mug.”

“Whatever. Come here before I get bored and r̸e̵d̵e̶s̶i̴g̴n̸ ̵y̴o̶u̴ again.”

Keith only scoffed in response. Half the things they said were nonsensical, and he learned early on that it’s better to not think too hard about it.

He braced himself as he stepped into a perfectly-square, blackened spot on the dresser’s surface. According to her, this was the only place where she was “authorized to use their power”. Yet another thing that Keith knew not to question.

Deenah was… strange. Wrong, even. There was something about his appearance that made people unable to look too closely, something about their presence that made people just a tiny bit uncomfortable.

That and the fact that she could manipulate reality but only in these spots which are lovingly called “dead pixels” makes them a very interesting character. Although for some unexplained reason, everyone seems to find him too normal and incredibly boring.

Including Keith. Again, it’s better not to ask questions about Deenah and everything related to her. Those were usually followed by a headache strong enough to knock you out.

Between one blink and the next, Keith found himself standing somewhere entirely different. The room was no longer a bland beige nightmare but instead an explosion of color due to layers and layers of paint and ink strewn everywhere. A different sort of nightmare for the easily overwhelmed.

Every available surface had at least five different doodles or unintelligible scribbles, but every now and then there was a poem or a quote, written in perfect cursive. The whole place was a visually overstimulating mess, but there was a certain charm to it.

He just had to close his eyes for a few moments as all this made the disorientation from teleporting feel much much worse.

Having regained his bearings, Keith trailed his fingers over the back of what was once a white couch as he walked by, noticing the pink hearts that definitely weren’t there when he last visited.

He found what he came here for as he rounded the corner: Diana laying on her stomach underneath a table, coloring in what must be another one of her works. She was so focused on it that she didn’t even notice him come in, even when her companion gave a greeting.

“Keith!” Dolly beamed from where she sat on the floor right beside her, immediately crawling out to be able to talk more properly. “I wasn’t expecting you to visit today!”

“Dorian sent me,” he barely even gave her a glance, transfixed on the way Diana’s frantic scribbling steadily calmed into a more controlled pace.

“Uh huh,” Dolly grabbed two of the chairs around the dining table and brought them over to where he stood. “And how have you been?”

“As I’ve always been. How is she?”

“Doing better every day.” The dust bunny placed the chairs side by side, but with about a foot of distance between them, enough for Keith not to mind sitting together. “She’s been drawing all day so that sketchpad needs to be replaced soon. Perhaps you could ask Penelope for a new one?”

“Of course.” He’s the one who does all the errands anyways. Might as well.

Keith took his seat and fidgeted with the mask in his hands, gaze never once leaving Diana. He trusts Dolly — which was an achievement and a half on her part — and knew that she would mention it if the girl went on another one of her episodes.

And yet he still couldn’t help but scan over the visible parts of Diana’s skin, looking for cuts or bruises or any other sign that she might have gotten hurt. It’s part of his duties to make sure she’s alright, you see.

He would’ve liked a closer look, but Diana seemed to be enjoying herself at the moment and he didn’t want to interrupt that.

“So… what’s the actual reason you’re here?”

It was then that Keith finally gave Dolly a quick once-over, just long enough to note that she’s not sustaining any injuries either before looking away again.

“Like I said, Dorian sent me.”

“Did he explicitly say so or are you…?”

Sent away. Keith pursed his lips as he exhaled. He hadn’t been in here for so long that forgot how annoying the blasted woman was.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ah. I see.”

Diana’s little spree seemed to have slowed down into a halt, tapping her colored pencil on the sketchpad as she was deep in thought. Then she set it down, instead pulling a pen from her hair and adding more careful strokes.

After a while of staring in silence, Keith noticed that odd prickle on the back of his neck that meant someone was watching him. It seemed like Dolly truly was a creature of incredible patience, and try as he might, he could only ignore her for so long.

“ Well, alright,” he let out a grumble. “If you must know, that fucking bitch came over to gloat again.”

“Watts?” Whatever facial expression she was wearing right now, he didn’t want to see it.

“Who else?”

“Well, you do call a lot of people “bitch”...” There was a shuffle and what sounded like a stifled giggle. “Pretty sure you called me that once too.”

Keith leaned back against his seat as he battled the grin that threatened to escape. He was supposed to be pissed off at her, goddamnit. 

“No, I’m pretty sure I called you a slut.”

“Gee, thanks for correcting me…” Dolly let herself laugh out loud this time. “What did he do this time?”

“What he always does—” Then suddenly it clicked. “Wait, no, stop it.”

“Hmm?”

“Spare me the therapy talk.” Keith finally turned to face her with an accusing tone. He can’t believe she almost got him to vent to her again. “I’ve told you time and again, my mental faculties are perfect.”

“I was just trying to–”

“Shut up.”

“Shutting up,” she raised her hands in surrender, still wearing that smug grin he wanted to slap off as she turned back to watch Diana again.

Keith was just about to follow suit, but then—

“In my most humble opinion, I think everyone in this unit needs some fucking therapy.”

He groaned, running a gloved hand over his face.

“Fucking hell, Dolly. Let me have my peace, won’t you?”

“Alright, alright, I’m shutting up for real this time.”