The Trick to Falling in Style

Cleanup

The sun was beginning to rise over the port of Snowchester, making the ocean glitter like gemstones embedded in the ground. Vermillion stands on the rooftop of a warehouse that smells like fish. He watches as the police swarm in and out of the building. The Wretched Wraith had been escorted off the scene half an hour ago. Kamikaze and Ender remained on the scene, talking to the officer in charge of witnesses. The other officers barely glanced at them as they brought out pieces of evidence from the warehouse. Vermillion shuddered when he saw one of them carrying a plastic bag with a bloodied icicle. He wasn't entirely sure the police had records of his blood, but they could easily determine that Vermillion had been there if they did. The only highlight was that they didn't have Tommy's blood.

Passerine is at his side, staring down with sharp eyes. The wind begins to pick up, not quite as cold as what it was earlier in the night, but still bitter enough to make Passerine's wings vibrate behind her in some attempt to keep themselves and her warm. She presses her hands to her mouth, breathing into the fabric of her gloves. Light gray smoke passes through the small gaps between her fingertips. She eventually places both her hands underneath her thighs. She looked up at Vermillion with a paling face, "How much longer are we gonna be in this fucking freezer?"

"I want to make sure Kamikaze and Ender are fine," Vermillion told her, but he knew that they would leave in the next few minutes even if the two heroes weren't done. Pain blossomed around his body, and he could feel the blood drying against his skin and clothes. He would definitely sleep the entire day away. Some part of him was glad that he no longer had a job to worry about, but the other part of him was saddened by that same thought. His relief did not ease his loneliness or remedy the fact that he missed his old coworkers. He missed feeling like he was a normal person doing average things. Everyone went to their jobs. Not many people fought crime during the night, and even less did it illegally because there was something irrevocably fucked up about them.

"You told me once that you didn't care about people. I'm starting to realize you meant to say you don't give two shits about me," Passerine grumbled, more annoyance in her tone than genuine anger. Vermillion flinched at her words, though. He shouldn't care about people. He shouldn't be waiting here for the two people he was going to have to say goodbye to yet again. It was going to break him. It was going to anger Kamikaze and upset Ender. Vermillion would be hurting himself and his former friends. But he was either too selfish or too foolish to walk away while he had a chance.

"I'll take every opportunity to make you suffer," Vermillion told her. Passerine pulled out one of her hands to hit him in the thigh. It didn't hurt him; it made him laugh into the breeze. She continued grumbling about him, calling him different cruel words and acquainting him with the nastiest parts of the dirtiest animals. Vermillion continued to laugh beneath his breath, hoping that it wasn't delirium infecting his brain.

Passerine cut herself off when they heard an approaching buzzing sound. A 'vwroop' sounded behind them. Kamikaze floated in the air right in front of them, and Ender stood on the roof right behind them. Vermillion raised an eyebrow at Kamikaze, tilting his head over his shoulder to look at Ender. "I can't help but feel a little claustrophobic."

"We brought first-aid kits!" Kamikaze cheered, uncaring how Vermillion felt. Ender smiled beneath his hood, and Vermillion rolled his eyes affectionately. Vermillion plopped down on the parapet of the rooftop beside Passerine. Ender sits on the other side of Passerine, facing her. He places the first-aid kit on his knee, opening the lid to pull out gauze and creams.

Kamikaze leaned on the parapet with his back to the neighboring warehouse. His legs stretched out onto the rooftop as he held up a rag. Vermillion held back his side as he placed his forearm in Kamikaze's awaiting hand. Kamikaze gently held Vermillion's forearm as he used the rag to clean the blood off of Vermillion's arm. Once that was done, Kamikaze moved to clean blood off of Vermillion's other arm and his legs. Vermillion bit his lip to keep himself from hissing. The pain seemed sharper now that Kamikaze was cleaning the wounds up. The one thing he didn't feel, however, was hesitance. Everything inside of him knew that Kamikaze could be trusted, and that single thought terrified Vermillion. Did Kamikaze have the same amount of trust in him? How was he supposed to tell the hero that the trust was misplaced?