𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦 | the boys 1

ix. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘

~𝙇𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙, 𝘽𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙣, 𝙁𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣~

She could feel every single lace pressing into the tops of her feet. She wasn't one for wearing shoes but these were surprisingly comfortable. However, they still restricted her ability. Butcher told her it was to cover the blood she had based herself in, and that she'd just have to try not to bring much attention to her hands. Having followed a subtle path of chaos and studied the label on that blue nail polish, the group of them (minutes Hughie, who had been persuaded to go out with Starlight) hastily approached a nail parlour in Manhattan's Chinatown, deep into the 40 blocks the whole thing covered.

She kept close behind Butcher, practically clinging to him since she was sandwiched between him, M.M. and Frenchie. Nose brushing just below his shoulder, Rowan clutched the loose coat material around his elbow and let her hair fall in front of her face, unaware of him being able to feel her breath on his arm.

Despite being almost invisible as the group made it through, her arm was still grabbed by one of the cops on scene, to which she systematically jerked it up and kicked him to the floor. It was more of a reflex, than anything - the only thought being put into it was that there was a hand on her and she didn't like it. The noise caused a small pause in the room, thankfully Butcher was accustomed to certain instincts and declared,"All alright here, lads. Nowt more to see than the mutilated corpse in the back." He pointed harshly towards the direction of the counter, where a female corpse had been found.

Rowan could only stare at him, glaring as the officer recollected himself and took the both of then to the front door. "Sir, you can't bring your daughter to a crime scene. These kinds of places aren't for kids." He warned, stepping a little too close for comfort and blocking her sight from the gore.

Having gestured for M.M. and Frenchie to begin their private investigation among the authorities, Butcher noted her posture, all squished up to the door frame with her shoulders hunched, arms held up and head turned away. He calmly nudged the uniform away and warned,"We ain't lookin' for trouble, mate."

"What's with the accent?" He grimaced suspiciously.

"What's with yours?"

"Look, the point is, she doesn't belong near a homicide. That's how you traumatize kids, and then shit like this happens. Gang hits, brutal murders." He explained. Rowan reckoned he had a point, but she was already traumatised beyond repair.

"Gang hits? Who told you that, eh?"

"Not arguing, man." He mumbled, wandering away a little further, but still in earshot.

Butcher followed his gaze and instantly clenched his jaw - bright, electric blue blurred in the back. A-Train was catching up to them. Looking back down on the child, he realised her eyes were still glued to the floor and instantly began to lay down some precautions without giving the game away to her,"You know how when you claimed that little corner as your own," He recalled, not looking directly at her. "And I said, 'don't open the door to anyone'?"

"Yeah?" She whispered back.

"I need you to get into Frenchie's van, stay away from the windows and wait for..."

"That knock?" Rowan guessed. "What's going on?"

"I'll explain in a minute, alright?" Billy opened the door again and watched her step out and uncertainly cross the road, sending him strange looks all the way.