Show Me a Hero

Chapter IV

"Why do you always look so sad?"

She smiles at me, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Why do you always look so beautiful?" she deflects.

Lying on the ground, cradled in the crook of her arm, it's a bit of a strain to look up at her, but I do anyway. "We always talk about me," I complain.

She shrugs, and I feel the sinewy muscles flex under my cheek. "I like hearing about you." She turns her head to meet my gaze. "I could listen to you talk for the rest of eternity."

I feel my cheeks grow hot and find myself having to break away from the intensity of her stare, her words. "You can be such a sap."

"Only for you." She takes me by the chin, her touch gentle but firm, and tilts my head up to lock eyes once more. "Forever and always, only you."

~*~*~*~*~

"Division of...I'm sorry, what was it again?"

"Division of Underground Sentinels and Knights."

"Right..." Eduard fiddles with the buttons of his shirt, then runs a hand through his blonde hair. He glances over at Maxwell, who has decided to stand out in the hallway and attempt to spook various DUSK agents rather than join Eduard in Chief Director Ryker's office. "And you tracked me down to...recruit me? But...why? What use could you possibly have for someone who sees dead people?"

"Don't sell yourself short, Mr. Fleischer. We've seen firsthand exactly what you're capable of."

"Er, just Eduard is fine."

"Eduard." Chief Director Ryker nods. "We think you'd be a great asset to our organization."

"And what, pray tell, does being a part of this organization entail?"

Director Ryker is silent for a moment. Then, "We help people, Eduard. We do things that perhaps other...organizations find unsavory. Our methods can be a bit crude, a bit...unorthodox, but it's all in the name of the greater good." She slides a black business card across her desk. On it, embossed in gold, is the word DUSK and a phone number underneath.

Realisation dawns on Eduard as he picks up the card to study it closer, and he tenses somewhat in his seat. "You mean...you're a group of vigilantes?"

"Not my favorite term, but sure."

Eduard rises, pocketing the card. "Thank you, but no thank you." He turns to leave.

"We have some of the most qualified healers and doctors in our employ."

Eduard freezes.

"We've made incredible progress in clinical trials to treat dementia. We can not only help your mother, but we can also provide her with the utmost comfort in our medical bay."

His jaw tics, but he says nothing.

"If you change your mind, you know where to find us." Director Ryker presses an intercom button. "Jesse, please escort Eduard back to the upper level."

And with that, he leaves.

~*~*~*~*~

"How was that?" Manny asks, still handcuffed to the headboard, and Nylekae wants to punch that stupid smirk off his smug face.

"I've had better," she answers truthfully, grabbing a change of clothes and a syringe filled with DUSK's very own concoction of truth serum from her pocket.

"What the—"

And whether he'd been about to comment on the fact that she found his sexual prowess to be subpar or the fact that she'd just pulled several objects out from thin air, she doesn't really care. She jabs him in the thigh with the needle and he yelps in pain and shock, struggling against the handcuffs.

"You crazy fucking bitch!" he snarls. "What the fuck was that?"

Ignoring him, Nylekae gets dressed while giving Jim the okay to come inside what's-his-face's apartment. "You can take over from here, I'm going out for a smoke," she tells Jim once he arrives, dressed up as an EMT. "And make it as unpleasant as possible for him," she adds, tossing her dress and heels into her pocket.

"Wouldn't do it any other way," Jim replies.

Once outside in the cool, crisp autumn night air, Nylekae lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag.

It's always in the aftermath of empty, meaningless sex that she feels the self-loathing coat her tongue and throat in such bitterness that even a cigarette can't mask the taste. She doesn't know when it stopped being fun and started being...whatever the fuck it is now. Unhealthy. Toxic. Self-destructive. Who knows. Who cares.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Nylekae puts out the butt with the heel of her shoe. "Let's get outta here."

Jim nods, hoisting his duffel bag over his shoulder and it clangs noisily. "Don't worry. I made sure it hurt."

Ny gives him a wan smile. "You're the best."

"So I've been told."

"What'd ya tell him happened to him?"

"Told him he had a bad run-in with some rowdy drunks. Oh, and that his date stood him up 'cause she had better things to do than entertain a big-headed creep like him."

"My man."

~*~*~*~*~

JJ knocks on Nylekae's bathroom door then tries the knob. Unlocked. And he's glad to find it so since it means she would appreciate his company.

He finds her fully dressed, curled up in the fetal position on the floor of her walk-in shower, the water running.

"Hey," he says, making his way over to sit next to her.

She shifts to lay her head in his lap. "Hey."

"Washing you and your clothes, huh."

This earns a small smile from her. "Yeah. Washing me and my clothes."

He offers her the bottle of tequila in his hand, but she declines. He shrugs and takes a swig. More for him then.

They lapse into silence, the only sound being the roar of the shower, and JJ strokes her wet hair. He doesn't know how long they've been there when Jim decides to make an appearance as well. He observes the scene before him then, without hesitation, takes up a spot next to JJ under the raining water.

"What's wrong with me?" Nylekae says eventually, so softly that it's almost inaudible.

"Absolutely nothing," reply Jim and JJ simultaneously. And if Nylekae starts crying, neither of them bothers to take any notice. Jim just holds her hand while JJ continues running his fingers through her hair. Nothing else needs to be said.