A hero shows up at a villain's doorstep one night. Dazed and bleeding, they look up at the villain, mumble "...I didn't know where else to go," and collapse.
This is the story of Phillip and V.
The next few moments passed in flashes of feeling and pain. V ended up being the one to drag me out of the building rather than the other way around. Giving me some of their blood helped, but it's fire, there was only so much V could do.
The good news is V and I made it outside, the bad news is I am currently on fire. V is trying her best to put out the flames while I roll around to smother them. My flesh feels like it's in a deep fryer.
After the excitement in the warehouse the rest of the afternoon flew by: Vagabond carried me to the car, Janus and Desmond drove us to the hospital, and by the time I lost consciousness I was being taken inside with only a few minor burns.
I woke up in a hospital room, with Janus reading a medical magazine in the corner, and Vagabond sleeping in my arms beside me. We are both handcuffed to the bed.
[Morning Janus. What are we dealing with?] Before she can reply, a large man with a rifle and military uniform enters the room, followed by a thin man in a suit who I can tell does the talking.
"You are dealing with the military, Doctor Kreat. I've read your paper on the failures of the police establishment and thought it proper to raise the bar a bit." The deep register and passive-aggressive tone of his voice is so thick it hurts. V begins to stir at the noise and looks around, confused.
[Yeah, hi, why is Vagabond handcuffed to the bed? I thought I was the villain here.] She looks at her wrist and confirms to herself that, yes, she took a nap and is now also handcuffed to the bed. She sits up and gets more comfortable in the space between my arm and chest.
The suited man continues, "Under normal circumstances you would be correct, but we have anonymously received unflattering video footage of her exploits through downtown several nights ago."
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V literally goes white, then red, then buries his face in the pillow I didn't notice we were sharing. "Theodore," he finally says, pulling himself closer to me. The gravity of those few days must be catching up to him.
"Well," the man continues, "it appears you are more acquainted with this informant than we are. I suppose then, it would be rude not to mention the letter they left for you." He hands me an envelope with VAGABOND written in large, violet font. "I have the clearance to open it myself, but I figured this would be more enlightening."
