They say life flashes before your eyes when you die. I had no such extravagance granted to me. Whether that was because most of my life was an unknown or I just didn't deserve a period of reflection, I couldn’t tell.

Instead, brief visions of muddied violence occasionally pierced the infinite darkness. Soundless flashes of crimson and bright primary colors. Last ditch efforts of a failing mind that was trying to grasp at the slippery edges of mortality before I could fall into nothingness.

But a clicking noise permeated these dying dreams. Similar to a clock, but it wasn’t ticking… as though a mechanism had stuck and it kept resetting to power through the blockage. Sharp and slightly irregular. I could feel myself tense up every time it cut through the peacefulness of the void.

Less an ominous tolling of my final moments, and just a grating experience that fucking annoyed me. Gray washed over the darkness, a wide crack of light forming at the horizon of the expanse I had been lost in for who knows how long.

Gradually, I opened my eyes to allow the light of the afterlife to scour me anew.

Bright white fully encompassed my vision before it slowly faded to something more palatable. Shapes and feelings came to my body with the prickly awakening of my nerves.

I hadn’t imagined purgatory to feel so… wet.

My eyes drifted down at the place my soul now resided. It was bubbly and contained in some sort of ceramic trough. Oh.

Off to the side, a small volcano of black topped with bright red turned the page of a magazine, creating a sharp clicking noise that grated through me. I grunted in resignation.

“Oh... fuck! You’re awake. I thought you’d never come to.”

Blurred eyesight washed away and Roxy’s face came into view. She looked tired and stressed, but looked earnestly happy to see that I was apparently alive, despite feeling like a corpse still.

[You have been worried.]

A glum smile. “Is it that easy to tell?”

[Is that why you’re holding my hand?]

I glanced at my gun-arm, which she was holding on the edge of the bath with the hand not holding the magazine captive.

“Don’t be a prick! I didn’t want your gun all fucked up from the water.” She tried to put on a scowl, but embarrassment overrode it as she watched me look down at my torso.

My bare chest, that I hadn’t seen in years. Four bright pink lines formed a cross over most of my torso, where the pincer had struck me. These stims might be illegal, but they worked miracles. As freshly healed that a wound could be, I was surprised both at my survival, and at my state of undress.

[Where… are my clothes?]

“I’m sorry, Dubs. This is super weird and inappropriate, I know. I wouldn’t have disrobed you if you didn’t have such a fever. It was just the worry about infection and…” She gingerly released the barrel of my weapon now that I could hold it I place myself. “I didn’t take your underwear off, and I made it a bubble bath to hide your modesty, too. Did my best to make this as medically sound as possible... I'm not a creep.” She grimaced.

I was in a bath. My first thought was that I didn’t hate it. But then my mind wasn’t fully with it yet, which helped to ignore most of the awkward slurry of words the super was pelting me with.

[You… bathed me?]

“Just your torso to clean the wounds. I stayed away from getting any of your cybernetics wet… but if you’ve got any weird shit going on below the waist, then I’m sorry if I…”

[I’m fine, it’s just what you can see.]

She nodded slowly and sat back against a wooden cabinet, leaving the magazine on the floor. Now that I had a chance to focus, her bathroom was rather modest and small, with a similar rustic theme that matched the other places in the house I had seen.

“Speaking of seeing… I was rather surprised... at the sight of you - after cutting all those layers of gross fabric off.” She tried to maintain eye contact.

[Oh. The scars.]

Aside from the recently acquired wound that was still tender, the rest of my torso was a patchwork of long healed wounds. Scarred tissue discoloration from all the burns, shots, and breaks I had endured.

“No, I mean you’re pretty jacked. Respectfully.” She bit her lip, which gave the opposite impression to her assurance.

I suppose I had managed to maintain quite the muscle mass.

“Like I’m just saying… I’m a strength super who works out all the time and has a specific diet and regimen to adhere to, and it’s fucking difficult to maintain the cut expected of me. You live like a swamp rat off of shots of nanites and machismo, and you look like that? That’s male privilege.”

[I’ve never seen you look any less than peak form.]

She rolled her eyes. “Near-death experience knocked your brain a little loose, Dubs? I don’t care if the League is listening in - I’ll tell you something that’s bullshit. Their mandatory outfits.”

[Your super suit?]

She was wearing a black tracksuit at present, which slid into the unimportant folder in my brain - as she was feeding me something between the lines. League was listening in, so she wouldn’t be able to labor me with the secrets just yet. Maddening, but she was clever and trying to do this the right way. Stakes must be high.

“So they’re a defensive marvel, right? Not quite skin tight though - as they are padded a little. Apparently, my usual shape isn’t feminine enough, so they bulk out my curves a little. And the abs? Partially molded on.”

[Oh, really?]

“Any idea how difficult it is to maintain a well defined six-pack day in and out for months at a time? I love exercise and the way I am, but I just don’t get any off days.” She put her arms around her knees and put her chin on them, looking as fed up as she could manage.

[One day, Roxy, I will take you out to get a large tub of your favorite ice cream. And then I will sit and watch you eat it all in silent judgement with my effortless abs.]

Her mouth opened for a few seconds before she shook her head. “Fucker! Had me in the first half, I won’t lie. Best proposition I've had in… a year and a half, at least.”

A bit of light-headedness to make my figurative tongue a little too loose. It seemed to calm the nerves she had been holding onto, so I let it be a win on that account. I'd leave the reflection on whatever I was saying to later when I had allowed myself to be a bit more miserable and grounded.

[So… what happened after I found out villains are above my pay grade first-hand? You saved me?]

“No. It was actually Belle. The smokescreen you made helped her and Roy catch up to you while I was distracted by tearing the bad guy in half. Wren came in through the ceiling to help out, and then I saw you.”

[I’ll have to give her my thanks.]

I doubted that the woman cared about me that much, although as heroes, they should prefer to save innocents. I allowed myself to masquerade in that position, despite being far from any halo or similar accolade. Quite likely they were keeping me alive for the same reason that I had been pushing into being around the supers. Something I was keen to find out if I weren’t enjoying the bath so much.

[So then you picked me up and brought me here to nurse me?]

“You’re making it sound weird.” She rubbed at her eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t want to go to a hospital, and I just… I felt really guilty, okay?”

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

[None of this was your fault, apart from… well, perhaps most of it. But I got a good scrub out of it, so who am I to complain?]

“Ugh.” Roxy hid her face. “Just your torso so your wounds could heal. I’m surprised you aren't covered in like… skin diseases, with how thick with old sweat and blood your clothes were.”

[The scars are probably enough of a shock, I am sure.]

“Everyone has them, Dubs." Her head emerged to shoot me a glare. "Look.” She stuck one of her legs out straight and pulled her tracksuit up to expose part of her calf. Other than being surprisingly pale, there were streaks of slightly different colored skin like lines of silver from ankle to knee.

She obscured it back up and relaxed against the cabinet again. “Would like to say they’re from something cool, but it was just dumb teenager things. Thought I could jump up on a building… and it turned out they had some fancy skylight that went through four floors. Reinforced glass, which didn’t stop me.”

[And did you learn anything?]

“Super suits are much better than shorts for leg protection.” She gave a shrug. “Oh, but this is the downside.” With her hand, she pulled at the neck of her top to expose some pale collarbone - a stark contrast to her tanned hand and arms. “Thematic to call it a farmer’s tan, maybe.”

[You couldn’t sunbathe to even it out?]

“And risk paparazzi finding me and taking pictures so that people around the city can discuss if my ass looks too square, or question my work ethic because I have time to lay around instead of save the world? People on social media are cruel, and I’d rather not deal with that shit these days.”

We fell into a brief silence, where she tried to compartmentalize some issues she currently had with being a hero, and I slowly gathered the mushy parts of my brain together to try to accept my situation and what possible next steps I should take.

Honestly, some of the usual dour grime that ran thick through my existence had washed away. Could be the near-death experience. Might be that Roxy had promised me answers to things that had been plaguing me for a while. Part of me was also currently accepting the fact that I wasn’t totally horrified by my current situation.

Despite being her faux sidekick and cordial neighbor, I hadn’t expected this amount of care or hospitality - not to the point that it appeared she had been losing sleep over my condition. Odd to think that someone… cared for me. Especially with the odd questions marks still hanging over our heads. It was enough to make me believe she had my best interests in mind, despite there still being that chance this was a long con on her part. Still, I was thankful for the second... or maybe my third chance at life.

[I appreciate your help with all this, Roxy. Honestly. Did you want to wash my hair?]

Her face was nothing but a scowl as it emerged from where she had buried it within her thoughts. “Are you fucking with me?”

[It’s fine if you don’t think it requires doing. I can go without.]

“It definitely needs doing, Dubs.” She sighed and gave me a glum smile. “I’ll do it, but you can’t take the mask and goggles off, right?”

[Short answer, the mask does not come off. The goggles aren’t part of my cybernetics, though, so they can.]

With a nod, she stood up to her feet and dug through a cupboard to find bottles of… hair cleaning lotion - whatever the proper name for that was. My left hand came up on aching muscles, and I pulled the goggles from my face slowly, the strap sticking to my skin where blood and sweat had sealed it to me.

Now without the slight tint of the green lenses, her bathroom was harsh bright white that burned at my eyes. Would take a moment for them to adjust for the strange ‘real’ tones of the place.

Roxy turned to see my hand extended, giving her the goggles to put somewhere safe. Her eyes went up to my face. “Oh!” Her eyebrows raised, and she paused as if frozen for a moment.

[Oh?]

She shook her head. “Sorry. I was expecting… well, you do look like you haven't slept in months. If you didn’t have tech eyes, I thought they’d be all… soulless and shit. Not… bright green and lively.”

[You’re saying I have pretty eyes?]

Frown across her brow, she screwed her mouth up. “What has gotten into you, Dubs? Did the noir asshole part of you wash away with the rest of the filth?”

[I am vulnerable, contained, and weak. It is only fair that I disarm you in some manner in return.]

“Takes more than that,” she murmured. “Close your eyes while I shampoo you, alright?”

[Too distracting?]

“Don’t make me unclip your vocalizer, asshole. As much as I appreciate that you feel comfortable enough to banter with me, I actually have a job other than being your nurse that I need to get back to and run a report on yesterday’s bullshit.”

It seemed as though I had slept for a day. No surprise given the damage I had sustained, but then again - I lived through plenty anyone unluckier than me wouldn’t.

“If I play truant too long, League will drop a nuke on me. They always know where I am.”

Another clue. League didn’t just have ears around her, but were actively tracking her whereabouts. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. Made sense on the surface. With people as powerful as supers wandering around, you’d want to make sure they weren’t getting up to anything they shouldn’t. Too risky.

That made getting the information out of Roxy more difficult. Even as the super rubbed the hair juice through what matted excuse of a haircut remained atop my head, I still had some apprehension over her intentions.

I’d need to message Boss soon - something that paired with the rest of my thoughts. If my aura was indeed bullshit, then there would be few places Roxy and I could speak fully, confident that nobody could listen in. There was the Dead Zone out in the wastes… but if she was being tracked, then the League would know something was up seeing her go out that way.

She brought out a cup to fill with water and rinse the suds off the back of my head, trying to avoid getting my neck wet. That part was water resistant, although I’d never tested it past it getting spray with rain… or blood.

[So… where are my actual clothes?]

“Mouth closed while I… oh, sorry. I don’t know why I keep forgetting.” She sighed and placed the cup down. “I took them out back and burned them.”

[Oh…]

She moved away and put her hands on her hips. “Like, I know this is already a really weird and awkward situation - none of this is normal… but I’ll turn that up a notch to say that I have some clothes that will fit you.”

[Not… spares of your super suit, I hope?]

“Of course not. Not exactly… just… I realize that going with the flow almost killed you, but just suspend a little disbelief for me? Then we’ll call this all even.”

I tilted my head to see where she was gesturing to. A small hamper presumably filled with the clothing mentioned. Beside it, a pair of dark boots that looked… pretty reasonable, I’d have to admit.

[Fine. I’ll still owe you that ice-cream, though.]

She resigned to shrugging in exasperation, turning from me and heading to the door. “I’m here for a few hours so don’t rush, but I’m sure you have more important things to do than get wrinkly under all those bubbles.” Roxy paused before shaking her head as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Given that she didn’t mention Boss overtly, she was actually hinting about my need for the answers. Perhaps she had a plan that I’d need to work out. Quite a puzzle.

I sunk into the bath a little more. Perhaps treating myself to such a luxury on occasion wouldn’t hamper my work at all. A bit late to furnish my kill room with a bathroom suite, but - depending on what I soon learned - it might be time I relocated to somewhere with some creature comforts.

The warmth of the water had waned during our conversation, and I had to replay parts of it in my mind to recoil in horror at some of the things I had said. Some of it had been true, and from the sensible part of my mind, but I didn’t have the stomach to sort out which parts were which. Almost didn’t have a stomach, after what the villain had done to me.

My mind wanted to go over the fight again. Try to debrief what went wrong, as I was sure I could have contributed to the defeat of whatever it was behind those walls.

I needed to check the lense history to see what his Threat Level had been.

With a resigned grunt, I pulled myself from the bath, trying not to crack the ceramic with my metal gun-arm. Plug out so the water could wash away. I assumed that it wasn't the first fill of the bath given that the water wasn't murky enough, and too warm to have been from yesterday. How was the house even connected to the water supply? Stepped out and saw my full form. Towel up to dry myself off. All things rather new and awkward with my one good hand.

She hadn’t been wrong about how muscular I was - the stims must have some manner of steroid in them. I removed my soaking underwear and put them… well; the sink seemed rude. I found a small pedal-lid bin and placed them inside there. Stretched myself out and tried to look at myself through the mirror over the cabinet. I bore the resulting wounds of my years of scraping by. The shrapnel remover left patches of skin where I had received bullet holes. Lines from the various cuts or stabs were a patchwork over me. Yet, I still lived.

My eyes went down to the discarded magazine as the bath gurgled down the last of the suds. A gossip rag that focused on supers. Lead story was a softball interview with the latest power couple. Heroes used a similar grading system as technology, but with Ranks instead. The buxom blonde with a perfect smile was Angel, S-Rank, which meant she excelled at several different skills. All-rounder heroes were the worst - nobody liked a showoff. Her partner was the son of the man who ran the League of Heroes itself. His super power was being a nepo baby with access to his father's deep pockets.

They had shown a little restraint and had pegged him as an A-rank, but I was sure he still had a complex with being lower than his beau. That aside, I was just punching down to distract myself from the inevitable. With a sigh, I glanced over at the outfit Roxy somehow had to hand already.

Opened up the hamper. Dull green on the inside. Not too far off the shade that I usually wore, but the fabric was much different. Compression shorts and then… what I could only describe as a super suit that was the right size for me. Troubling. Even had the one sleeve only, so that my gun-arm could breathe on the outside. With some difficulty, I pulled it on, followed by the boots. Only almost put my muzzle through her bathroom furniture three times. There was a good reason my clothing choices had been simple.

Returned to flexing in front of the mirror. Almost skin tight, but thickened in places to accentuate my musculature. Comfortable and easy to move in. I still felt naked and exposed. Didn't have much choice at this point.

Lastly, I brought up my goggles from next to the sink, and pulled them back on. Some manner of calm settled through me, as though returning them to obscure my vision shook away the mania that had me... speaking with Roxy in ways that I hadn't before. Had I made a mistake there? My eye went up to the top of the lense to see a notification.

Oh, there were a few missed messages while I was struggling to get dressed. My eyebrow raised when I saw that it wasn’t Boss. The other one joined it when I went through what was written.

//Clara: Glad you’re still with us, Mr Dubs.

//Clara: I’m ready to falsify Rockslide’s location.

//Clara: Will only last an hour, but will give you time to get to the Dead Zone.

//Clara: Tell me when you’re good to go.