The rest of the night was a pained blur. I had made it out of the building without too much trouble, although I was sure the trails of blood would alert the authorities to what had transpired. Couldn't remember killing anyone else, but I had left my mark on all who had witnessed me. Whether the job could be pinned on me specifically was neither here nor there.

I was banking on the League thinking they secretly had me in their pocket, at least in their eyes. Belle would be able to put two and two together once the villain’s death was reported. If they'd known about me for a while, then there was no point worrying about my muddy footprints pointing to my currently malleable skull.

It was a miracle that I arrived back home in one piece without passing out or being collared by the cops. Roxy’s light had been out, so I resigned to getting the sleep I deserved.

Almost forgot to turn my traps off, but with a quick message of confirmation to Boss, I had hit the mattress and fallen straight asleep. Villain killer.

Dreamless expanse was once again broken in short order. A knocking at my door had me awake once more to this living world. Morning had arrived in what felt like five minutes, despite it being much longer. No voice to accompany the arrival of a guest, but the cadence was familiar enough.

Grunted as I moved my aching body from my place of rest. Hadn’t replaced my canister so now felt dry. A soft wash of stims helped me avoid feeling like I was tearing apart. Hadn’t gone through and removed the shrapnel yet. Super suit was sticky from the blood and sweat.

[Just one minute.]

I stood and tried to find a way out of the outfit, some muttered curses and pained contortion eventually allowing me to pull it down to my waist so just my legs remained covered. From my workbench, I grabbed a canister and the box with the shrapnel device in.

Over to the door, which was more awkward to open with no free hand, but to no surprise it revealed Roxy. She had a bright smile that went between different emotions once she clocked my state of undress. Clearly, the wounds I had sustained were more frightful than I had imagined.

“Damn it, Dubs.” She pulled a face and tugged at her tracksuit hoodie to waft fresh air over her face. “Rough night, huh?”

[A few light bullet wounds, nothing to write home about.]

She rolled her eyes and pointed to the deckchairs. “Sit and I’ll do it. I actually came over to apologize for crashing before you got back, and to say thank you for the gift.”

I looked over at her house as I walked over to the chair and sat down gingerly.

“First time anyone has given me a whole freezer before, and left it on my doorstop like a dutiful cat.” She grinned and sat further down the deckchair, holding her hands out for the device box.

[Didn’t want to wake you up.]

“So considerate.” She withdrew the shrapnel remover and checked the charge. “Given that I’m about to afflict you with a bunch of pain, I had something to ask you as well.” She pressed a finger against my bare skin, trying to find the first bullet that needed pulling out.

[Of course, go ahead.]

“Come around and hang out for a bit?” Her eyes went up to mine, awaiting my reaction before she started the procedure.

[I do need to rest and recover, and company shouldn’t hinder that process.]

“Perfect.” She furrowed her brow. “Most of these are just impact wounds.” Her finger went across my chest gently. “Fresh tear in your shoulder looking rough. Suit absorbed enough force that your body basically naturally expelled the bullets. Still… a couple down here.” Fingertip ran down to the side of my stomach.

I grunted and leaned back in the deckchair so she could hit me with the business end of the device. Some time off with Roxy didn’t sound so bad at all.

[Ran into one of your teammates last night.]

“Oh?” She pressed the remover against my skin but didn’t activate it. “That sounds… bad?”

[Potentially. Belle. Although she seemed more interested in inviting me to her cult than-]

The hiss and snap of the shrapnel remover caused my muscles to tense up as pain burst the bullet from the wound.

“Not that I have any say,” Roxy began, moving the device over to the next site, “but I wouldn’t get entangled with her.”

[I have zero intentions in that regard.]

Her eyes went up to mine as I watched her work, before her focus went back to the task at hand. “You think you would, for anyone? Have intentions, I mean.”

[Unlikely. I feel that as a-]

I twitched again as the machine did its job and zapped the other lodged object from my body.

[…as a hitman, it goes against sensible practices. Plus, I am quite the sight with my augmentations. I'm not exactly built for anything more than killing.]

Roxy tutted, her face deflating. “Don’t be such a sad sack, Dubs. Relationships aren’t built on you meeting some kind of minimum threshold or contract objectives. But… it’s not my place to lecture. You’ve only just opened up to having friends, right?”

I gave her a nod, for some reason I was slightly disappointed that I didn’t have more shrapnel that needed removing. Shouldn’t wish malady on myself, however.

[Good thing I was labored with two good ones then.]

She smiled and put the device back away in the case. “Turn around and let me check the rest of you. And… you’re a good friend too, Dubs. Not every day a gal gets delivered a freezer full of ice-cream. Clara has nothing but good things to say as well.” She paused as I stood and turned to sit facing away from her. “She’s coming over tomorrow - if you’ve got time to hang out then too?”

[I’ll make the time.]

Not only for friendship reasons, but I had promised the techie some time to prod me around again if she could get me some more ammunition. I felt the super run her hands over my back, which felt partially more of a massage than a search for hidden shrapnel. Given how achy I still was, I let it slide.

“They say every scar is a story. Some of yours look much older than five years.”

[You think I was a dumbass who got shot regularly back then too?]

“I don’t doubt it!” She gave me a pat on the back as she stood up. “Bruising and minor abrasions, but you’ll heal through those in no time. We… need to talk about you getting some casual clothing, though.”

[The suit is very practical, even if damaged.]

“Yeah, well… unless you plan on doing my yardwork, we can’t have you walking about in a state of such undress.” She stepped away from the deckchair toward her house.

I sat back up properly and looked over at her - but she wasn’t looking at me. Wouldn’t even know where to begin when it came to garden management, so I didn’t understand her angle.

[My cybernetics make traditional clothing untenable. If you have any contacts, then I’d be willing to pay for whatever you thought was best.]

Roxy then turned back to me, and it looked like the day was rather too warm for her to be wearing black, as her cheeks were slightly flush. “Sure. I’m no fashionista myself, but I reckon some comfortable sportswear would suit you well enough.”

[My unclothed body is in your capable hands then.]

She exhaled and shook her head, words escaping her for a moment. “You know, it’s really difficult to read you sometimes.”

[Would taking off my goggles help?]

“No. Well, I don’t know.” She waved me away in exasperation. “Just go get decent and swing by when ready. Lounge is on the right.”

With that said, she was off. I watched her leave for a few seconds before turning back to my present state. All things told, I hadn’t come out of that fight too injured. The super suit had certainly pulled its weight, and I only had the mental trauma of seeing Belle still aching away inside my skull. Oh, and the villain trying to corrupt my brain, I supposed.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Replaced my canister and picked up the box containing the remover. Muscles ached from the fresh wounds as I stood - but thankfully, it was just the two. Stims had done some good work while I had slept.

Stepped back into my depression box and unloaded all the things I had apparently slept in. Belt and miscellaneous ammunition. Empty can in the pile, box back on the workbench. With some effort, I put my gun-arm through the hole in the suit and pulled it back on. Felt actually comfortable - I’d acclimated to it already.

Still some stains and minor tears that it hadn’t managed to self-repair, but miracles didn’t often grace my life. Ignoring all the time that I skirted death by an inch.

That was me pretty much ready for the ‘hang out’. Low maintenance, to a degree. Should probably check the messages from Boss that I had been ignoring.

Boss: Excellent work. Truly, I am impressed.

Boss: A little too much visibility, but taken care of. High-profile contracts do have that downside.

Boss: Credits transferred, hold for further pickup instructions.

Boss: Enjoy the time off with the super you’re soft on and let me know if anything develops with the League.

I exhaled through my re-breather and closed it down. Didn’t feel much like replying or letting him know I was still alive. I had a feeling he knew, anyway. My mind started slipping toward more dour thoughts, but I shook it off.

Out of the shack and into the warm sunlight again. Scour away the misery. Boots went from gravel to soft grass, and then the wooden porch of Roxy’s house. Still wasn’t sure what I was getting myself in for, but there was a lot less trepidation compared to the housewarming. Door open, and her voice came from the kitchen.

“I had a quick dig around. If you head up to the bathroom first, there are some clothes that might fit you.”

[Thank you.]

Hit the stairs and circled into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Gave the empty bath a longing look… a favor to ask of her later, perhaps. On the counter beside the sink, she had left a couple of folded garments.

Struggled for a while to get out of my suit. New outfit was an oversized t-shirt and some compression shorts. Handy that she liked to wear baggy clothes so often. The plain white shirt wasn’t made for my cyborg arm in mind, so the sleeve on the right was tight and uncomfortable around the joint - but after enough effort, I was dressed.

Left my boots and suit in a tidy enough pile on the floor to retrieve later. Looked at myself in the mirror. Another odd look for me, that was just so… casual. With a sigh, I lifted my goggles up to my forehead and allowed my eyes to adjust to the change in lighting and hue. Gave myself a shrug, as if externalizing something my brain just couldn’t work through - and then went back down the stairs.

The lounge itself was a simple affair. Long couch facing the front window, where a small television sat. Single recliner on the side opposite the door. Wooden slats on the back side that appeared to be a storage cupboard or two. More paintings on the soft white walls. Rustic wooden furniture that continued the theme. Coffee table in the center. It was… a home. Something that made my chest ache for some reason.

I took myself over and sat on the single recliner. The most heavenly thing I’d ever placed myself upon. Maybe I could steal it.

Any further thoughts of treachery were scrubbed away as Roxy entered the room, a tub of ice-cream in her hands, a spoon already dug in. More to my surprise was that she was no longer wearing baggy clothes - but had black compression shorts, with a loose white tank top over a sports bra.

“There were two mint choc chip tubs in that freezer, Dubs,” she said with a grin. “Not to mention the eight others - League will fuckin’ murder me.”

She sat in the middle of the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table, taking a scoop of the stolen treat while I struggled to find words.

“You alright there? Clothes just about fit is seems.”

[Oh, yes. Apologies. I was briefly taken aback at your casual attire, but I appreciate the clothing.]

“Eh.” She waved the spoon toward me. “Few see me like this, so feel honored, punk. I trust that you don’t judge me, or at least know better and keep your yapper shut.”

Half of the power of a super was their branding, to be an asset to the League. Celebrities to a degree, constantly under the scrutiny of the public eye. Even out here in the wastes, she didn’t have the confidence to leave the house in anything that wasn’t her super suit or baggy clothes.

Only within the confines of her home would she bare her scars and amusing tan lines. I wasn’t even sure why the League felt the need to pad out her suit when she looked…

[No judgements here.]

Shuffled any further thoughts out of a hatch in my brain.

“That’s why we get on so well, Dubs.” She took another mouthful of ice-cream, before gesturing to my arm. “Oh, here. Let me.” Leaning forward, she placed the tub down and pulled open a slim drawer from beneath the table. Into her hand spun a pair of scissors.

She stepped over to me and grabbed at the tight sleeve around my cybernetics. A quick cut and the pressure was released - and she continued to remove the whole sleeve.

[Are you sure that is okay?]

“Shut the fuck up, Dubs. Of course it is, otherwise I wouldn’t be doing it.” She looked me in the eyes for a moment, before taking the sharp object and removed fabric away. “Sometimes you’re too polite, you know. Unless you’re in the heat of combat.”

[I do get a bit carried away when incensed.]

She placed the objects on the table and retrieved the ice-cream. “This is good shit, by the way. Whoever you took it from had good taste.”

Possibly. I wasn’t sure how much information I could give her. The League knew a lot, and Boss knew a lot. I figured the only secrets were Roxy and Clara helping me find out my past as a super soldier, and our potential pact to get away from both Boss and the League.

[Nothing turn up on the tracker from last night?]

She shook her head and finished her mouthful. “Haven’t checked it, to be honest. You make a big mess?”

[Probably ruffled a few feathers. Ice-cream theft is a usually beneath my paygrade.]

“Ass.” She smiled. “As if that was your main objective. Given the state you were in this morning, I bet it was just a wild state of delirium that caused you to yoink a whole freezer.”

[My mind was crystal clear.]

It wasn’t, but there were enough interlinking chains to make it believable. Had promised to sit and watch her eat the frozen dairy stuff if given the chance. Seemed pragmatic while I had the opportunity.

“Yeah, well. You’ve made yourself an accomplice to my misdeeds now. I’m supposed to be exercising. Instead, I am sitting here ruining my schedule and diet.” The spoon pointed at me. “And before you start apologizing, this is my choice, asshole. I’d much rather hang out with you and feel like someone normal for a change.”

[No complaints here.]

“Good answer.” She sighed and sunk into her couch more. “As much as I do like to work out, the solitude of the basement gets to me when it’s every single day. And… I’d ask if you wanted to join in - but even being the beefcake that you are, I only have equipment designed for my strength level.” Roxy frowned at her ice-cream.

Before I could attempt any sort of reply to that, I was caught up on the fact that this place apparently had a basement. Given that I had seen the house airdrop into place on the empty land beside my residence, I had more questions than were probably healthy. I could hand wave the running water supply away with being vague tech-magic, but a whole furnished floor below us right now?

There was clearly a lot more going on that I had been aware of. In saying that, my existence had followed that trend up until the super had landed next door. My eyes went back over to her to see that she had been waiting for me to say something.

[For what it’s worth, I would not be opposed to training with you.]

“Ah, see - you’re too agreeable sometimes, Dubs.” Her spoon dug through the container. “There’s no need to go with along with all the shit I say.”

[No, I’ve been thinking I need to pick up a hobby. Something that can improve my fitness sounds like it would be worthwhile. Plus, the great company.]

Roxy rolled her eyes. “I’m kind of an angry bitch when I’m in the zone, but if you’re able to put up with that… sure, let's make that happen.” She smiled and put the laden spoon in her mouth.

Sounds like I had just earned myself an excuse to take regular bubble baths. A simple ploy that she had fallen for easily. My left hand went up, and I rubbed at my eyes. This was probably the longest they’d gone un-goggled for a while and it was oddly exhausting, as if they weren't ready for reality just as I hadn't been.

“Bet you’re still beat. Sorry I woke you… but I’d feel guilty eating the ice-cream without you here, even if I feel guilty that you can’t eat ice-cream too.” Her face wrinkled up. “Give me the details. I want the gossip on who was keeping you up all night.” Feet returned to the coffee table, and she wagged her eyebrows up and down.

[Are you sure that is wise?]

“It’s all good. Another mob boss, maybe? A ruthless gang that needed culling? Some other real evil prick?”

[A villain.]

She paused, the spoon full of freshly scooped mint choc chip just hovering in the air as she stared at me. “No shit? I didn’t think you did that kind of thing.”

[I normally don’t. it's becoming a bad habit.]

The super looked honestly surprised and unsure how much to believe me. I could hardly believe it. I’d gone five years without crossing paths with neither hero nor villain, and now I couldn’t get away from them.

“Pretty lucky for a cyborg-ass hitman, then. Or unlucky.” Playing a little dumb for any potential League ears, but her eyes were alight with some excitement, as if my survival pointed to something meaningful. “Who was it?”

[Sweet Jade.]

“No.” She sat back up and leaned forward, her voice hushed. “Tell me you aren’t bullshitting, Dubs.”

[Perhaps it is time you checked your tracker.]

“Ugh, but I’m trying to avoid work,” she whined. Roxy placed the near-empty tub on the table and held a hand up to her temple - which seemed to bring up whatever her version of the STAR and lense could do. Her eyes went back and forth as she read through invisible text.

Might be an idea for me to check mine too, but I didn’t feel like it. I was socializing with a friend, in casual clothes, and had possibly picked up a hobby to do in my leisure time. I was… happy?

Even with the aches of the latest violent episode still ringing at the back of my existence, I had started to claw my way up to having a real life. Still a killer - something told me that I’d never shake that part of who I was… but looking over at the catalyst that had caused this change in me, I couldn’t help but be thankful for Roxy. Even if she had been very annoying at first.

The super let out a long, extended sigh. “Fuckers. I’ve been called in. They want to go over their decision in regards to the team mission. Also, fuck me, Dubs. Skyblade was big, but Sweet Jade as well? You’re more dangerous than you look.”

[I will choose to take that as a compliment.]

“Good, as it was meant to be.” She stood up and ran a hand through her hair. “Sorry to cut our little playdate… our hanging out time short. I’d say you’re welcome to remain here, but I am a whirlwind when I need to rush and you don’t deserve a mouthful or eyeful of that train wreck.”

I stood up and gave her a nod.

[Of course, it has been a pleasure. I look forward to tomorrow.]

“Same here, Dubs.” Her smile brightened, and she wavered a second before moving to exit the room. “Oh, before you go, I left you something in the kitchen.”

Left hand went up to lower my goggles as I followed her out. She turned to go up the stairs and stopped. “I’ll get your suit washed and drop you a message later, okay?”

[Thanks, Roxy.]

A nod to accompany her warm smile, and she ascended. I watched her for a few seconds before turning my attention to the kitchen - not usually a place where I’d find useful things.

Stepping through, the newly acquired freezer sat on one of the countertops. A dent in one side of the metal paneling. As much as I would like to assume it was from dropping it off my bike at some point, my hazy memory remembered knocking out the barman with it.

That wasn’t the point of interest, however, as instead there was a brown box sitting close by. In very small but clear lettering, it read ‘Mr Dubs’.

My new toys to play with.