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39 - Convincing Delivery

I shook back and forth in the darkness. Partly because my stim withdrawal had me feeling dry and in need of a week’s sleep. The other reason was because the trail northward in the van was a little bumpy, which also made my internal organs feel like they were melting.

[Thanks again for helping me pick up my delivery.]

“Of course,” Clara replied from the front. “You currently have no opposable thumbs. I couldn’t let you ride off into the sunset and die.”

The hues of said sunset illuminated the pair in the front seats, but it barely reached the back cabin, aside from highlighting some sharp edges I might open up my skull on if I started feeling any worse.

“Plus,” she added, “I doubt you’ve added me to your will yet.”

[Difficult, as I do not have a proper name or identity.]

Roxy turned her head back to look at me. “Oh. That reminds me. We need to get you a sidekick name soon.”

[Ugh. Rain check.]

“That’s not very on-theme.”

I went to respond to that, before clocking the grin on her face. Instead, I just shook my head. She had been in a better mood since I had charmed her into holding hands for a few minutes. A breach of the rules I had set up, but such things were always meant to be broken. The excitement in her eyes at the prospect of a second duel matched exactly how I felt. She wouldn’t hold back or underestimate me next time, I could tell.

Another reason that I made her fight for what she wanted. League taught them to be restrained and to keep things simple… but real fighting was complicated. If we ever got into actual hot water, I’d need to know that she could use her abilities to their fullest. It was the only way I could trust her.

The only way I could trust myself.

Wasn’t sure why I needed her as a contingency, but the duel had hammered home… something. The shards of a past memory had fallen into my grasp, but my current exhaustion didn’t allow me to assemble them in a way where I could bask in the revelation they promised. Frustrating.

“We’re here, Mr Dubs. Courier should arrive shortly.”

The van slowed to a stop, and Roxy hopped out of her side to circle around and open the back doors for me. Left arm was up in a sling now so that I stopped flopping the broken parts all over the place - which made many tasks even more complicated than usual.

My boots hit the loose gravel, and I gave the super a nod of thanks. She had changed back into her super suit, still awkward at being seen in anything else. As Clara wound down her window, Roxy followed me the fifteen or so feet to the debris and cluttered stone I had decided was a landmark.

I sat, too tired to stand, and a long sigh left my re-breather.

The super stood with her arms crossed, fidgeting slightly. “Dubs… I know we had a thing over this earlier… but my spare room, you’re welcome to…”

[Appreciated, but at this stage I will decline.]

“Oh, I’ll have dibs, Rockslide.” Clara leaned out of the window. “Maybe Mr Dubs can find somewhere else to shack up?”

“Do you ever stop?” Roxy pinched the bridge of her nose. “Aren’t you working tomorrow?”

“I was considering pulling a sick day, depending on what Mr Dubs had planned.”

I tilted my head from side to side, which did little but make me ache more and remind me my cannister and stims were both empty and in need of replacement.

[In the morning I was thinking of taking my bike into the shop. Then mostly rest until work in the evening.]

The techie nodded. “How about I give you a lift there and back, and I can assist you with your training, Mr Dubs?” I hadn't mentioned training, but it felt like a decent idea.

[That would actually be very helpful, Clara. Thank you. Care to join us, Roxy?]

She stuck out her bottom lip and glared off towards the city. “Can’t. Working all day. Apparently there was a prison break this morning and I need to be part of a meeting to go over it, and then I’ve got the debriefing for today’s bullshit.” She raised a middle finger up at Clara as the techie had stuck her tongue out. “Worried about your work, though, Dubs. Wish there was something I could do. You know, without becoming an accomplice.”

[Perhaps don’t fall for someone so easily kickable next time.]

“Asshole. You still won and I get it. I was too worried about your safety to seal the deal. Should have known you were gonna pull that kind of shit.”

[Were you hoping that I wouldn’t be so fragile?]

She licked her lips and twisted side to side slightly, trying to let the truth wriggle free. “Yeah, kinda.”

[I will never have your raw strength or resilience. However, as you grow and start to patch up your weaknesses, I too will always try to keep a step ahead to push you forward. As I complete my own training, I will remain a challenge for you, no matter your power. That's a promise.]

Roxy smiled and bit her tongue. “I fully believe you too, Dubs. You’ve got the right mind for it, like you’re designed to…” her thought trailed off as she looked over at the city again, two orbs of light approaching us. “Oh, looks like your courier is here.”

I fought off the wave of vertigo that had hit me for some reason, the rising pressure that felt as though something was about to pop just tapering away almost as quickly as her sentence did. Once I was sure my brain wasn’t about to leak out from my re-breather, I stood and rolled out my shoulders, immediately hurting my aching left side.

“Good thing I have a tow-bar,” Clara said. “Trailer and some training dummies, right?”

[Correct.]

We continued to watch in silence. It had been a long day for all of us - and I would have missed the courier if the movie had gone on for much longer. Once the credits had finished cycling across the screen, we felt a little awkward about being all huddled up together. Or at least I did. Goggles went on to hide away, and there were notifications from Hal confirming the time of delivery, and the contract from Boss - which I avoided.

The odd grouping of the three of us had felt comforting in the moment because we had the need to be grounded. A crush that had patience and understanding for me, taking me away from my misery. Chaos in her life that seemed to temper around me. The other was some form of flirty gremlin scientist who had a side that I felt I needed to protect. Two odd friends who had somehow come to accept a contract killer with a murky past.

Felt… impossible. Untenable, really. But now that I had them in my life, I couldn’t imagine it any other way.

I sure hoped that I survived the contract tomorrow, and this wasn’t as good as it got.

My muscles tensed up as the murmuring van rolled up close to us, turning to the side to reveal the packed trailer behind. The vehicle itself was slightly wider and longer than Clara’s, and the rust-red paint job was weather-worn and fading away. Clearly saw a lot of use over a number of years - which made me trust the whole process more.

Door opened, and the courier hopped out.

Worn boots, dirtied blue overalls that had all manner of dust, paint, and grease over them. Thick undershirt with rolled-up sleeves. Confusion in his light-gray eyes as he turned his head side to side to look at the three of us. His dirty-blonde hair formed a thick mustache and long mullet.

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“This ain’t some kinda bust, is it?” he asked, running his tongue along his lower lip.

Turning up to a random point in the wastelands to do a discreet delivery and finding two people in super suits next to a dark van was probably suspicious.

[No. I am Mr Dubs.]

“Oh!” His apprehension immediately washed away to be replaced with a wide grin. “Pleasure, then. I’m Van Michaels, and this…” He gave his vehicle a gentle pat. “This is Van Michaels’ van. Her name is Darla.”

I maintained a neutral stare.

[Do you say that to everyone?]

“Indeed, I do! Funny thing is - it just doesn’t get old.” He crossed his arms and looked pretty pleased with himself.

[How long have you been doing this, Van Michaels?]

“Been a runner for… this year’s our sixth anniversary.” He put his hand on the side of the van. “Three mostly in the city, before we’ve been branching out more. She has the soul of an adventurer, y’see. Couldn’t do this without her.” Some form of adoration filled his eyes as he gazed at… Darla.

“Ah,” Clara said from behind us. “A man figuratively-adjacent to being after my own heart.”

He tilted his head in response, brow furrowing. “D’ya know you have a weird ghost lady haunting your vehicle, Mr Dubs?”

Ignoring the fact that his van was actually more of a truck, unraveling at least half of his personality, I was keen to get my trailer so that I could go home and pass out. Stim withdrawal needed a couple of days to recover, and with my contract tomorrow evening, I’d been hard pressed to be on top form with only a normal night’s sleep. Still, I had plans for my bike and with Clara now as well - the woman currently with her eyes narrowed, perhaps remembering why she didn’t get on with people.

Before I had a chance to wrap this meeting of oddities up, he had finally clocked who I was standing with.

“Rockslide - no shit! Pretty sure I had an action figure of you.”

The super had a dull expression on her face. “I don’t have that kind of merch.”

Van Michaels smiled and nodded, but didn’t seem inclined to further the conversation.

[Everything is paid up, correct? There’s no… do I tip for this kind of service? I’m unsure of the convention here.]

Roxy wrinkled up her face and shook her head, despite the courier looking eagerly at the prospect of extra credits. “There’s no culture for it, so it’s at your discretion.”

[Oh. In that case, I do have a tip for you, Van Michaels. You should talk a lot less during your work - it will keep the taste of feet out of your mouth.]

He gave me a quick wink. “Pretty sure that’s motor oil and cheap alcohol, but Darla likes the cut of your wit. Let’s get your trailer moved over.”

A process that would have taken a lot longer if wasn’t for Roxy, who probably could have just carried the thing home instead. Without any usable hands, I felt rather useless to the process, perhaps just guarding the other two from any further strange conversation. Could always kill him - which my tired brain was a little too close to accepting as a valid option.

With the light fading from the sky, the job was done. Van Michaels waved us off, beeping Darla’s horn twice as the vehicle whirred away. Clara started our own van back up as Roxy shut me in the back before going to the passenger side.

“I… don’t sound like that to other people, do I?” Clara asked, turning a grimace back my way.

[No.]

“A short and convincing answer, Mr Dubs. Thank you.”

I wasn’t sure how genuine she was being - but she did look tired. Roxy too, and I was practically dead on my feet. The only thing keeping me from passing out on the ride back was the knowledge I hadn’t opened up the contract document yet.

Didn’t want to.

Not that I had a sudden change of heart over my vocation, or thought it would be something unpleasant… as that was almost guaranteed, anyway. I just felt that… today was a full three course meal of what I could be eating if I weren’t under Boss’ thumb. It was hard to believe the morning spent under Clara’s knife was part of the same day as the duel with Roxy and our inefficient movie evening. Not to mention the monster mission from the League.

I’d never had a day so jam-packed. Didn’t hate it, either. Had almost considered accepting Roxy’s offer of a proper bed for the night. I ached for it, even… but things were moving fast and I had to take a re-breath to fully prepare for how things were developing. That was how I was trained, after all. Always be prepared. Adversity breeds excellence.

My brow furrowed at these two points, as if the corpse of something long dead had finally bubbled its way to the surface of the thick swamp water. That last part felt like a slogan, as I had thought the exact same phrase earlier. As for my apparent training… was that a fresh clue or just something obvious my exhausted brain was clinging to?

Would make sense. A super soldier would be trained. Some of that would be about being prepared.

Back doors popped open. My eyes blinked as I hadn’t realized we’d even made the journey back already. Roxy helped me out, and I saw that she had already moved my trailer over near my house. Despite my shack being a pit of misery, the sight of potential rest had me excited about the prospect of any sort of time away from the turmoils of existence.

“You sure, Dubs?”

I turned my head back to her. Still some guilt over breaking my arm, maybe. She felt bad that I’d have such a miserable excuse for a home to sleep in. Might be detrimental for my broken arm.

[Today has been great, and I regret no part of it. But I am sure.]

“Alright. And ditto, aside from trashing your arm.” She gave me a smile. “Sleep well and don’t let Clara boss you about tomorrow. Rest if you need it and… message me?”

[You have my word.]

Her smiled widened and her eyes went over to Clara, who was yawning and heading straight for the super's house, barely waving us off as she made a beeline for the spare room. Roxy wavered, however, as if there was unfinished business before she could turn in for the night.

[Still envious that Clara got a hug out of me? Quickly then, before I change my mind, just don’t break anything else.]

“You’re a shithead.” Her eyes rolled. “But, I’ll take it.”

Put her arms around me as I placed my gun-arm across her back. Still didn’t really understand all this, but I was built to win. If the target was her heart, then that just meant… oh, I truly was tired. My head leaned forward next to hers, and I pressed my ear gently against hers before moving away.

[There. Now our ears have kissed.]

She snorted and pulled away from me, shaking her head. “You really are a fucking dork, Dubs.” Her eyes sparkled in the early evening darkness. “Hurry up and get better so that I can beat the shit out of you.”

[Counting down the days. Sleep well, Roxy.]

I watched her leave, the warmth of her presence fading away as she entered her house - pausing at the porch to give me a last wave. My head turned over to my kill room and a few ice cubes of real life clattered around in my skull, cooling my mood. Boots took me toward it, despite some reluctance in my core.

Getting entangled with anyone was a terrible idea, much less someone from the League. Wasn’t going to stop me, however. A lot of this was new ground when it came to trust alone - if this was just a scheme to manipulate me then… well, I’d probably end up going scorched earth against whoever was responsible. For now, I trusted my judgement that things were as they seemed. Moving fast, sure, but I was willing to believe that the super had been somewhat desperate to find a true connection with someone.

And me?

I was so good at my job that perhaps it was time to branch out. Fill in the blank spaces with friendship and… more? As long as it didn’t affect my work, then I was open to being surprised. Was self aware enough to know I was ignoring the fact that I would be going into my contract tomorrow with a weakened arm due to the odd courtship with the super.

Traps off, door open, and dim light on. Hello dour introspection once more.

Unloaded my gear, which was awkward with my current limb situation. Probably could have done with the extra help from the pair, but I’d had my fill of awkward and tense physical contact for the day.

Quick short breaths as I manage to escape from the sling, pain radiating down my free arm that was still healing. I panted and tried not to vocalize my discomfort. Hand up. Stim pack out. Breathe. Hand up and cannister out. Took a break to make sure I wasn’t tearing myself apart. Hand up and stim pack in. Small amount washed through me, dulling my senses. Made it easier to slap the cannister in the right place and clip down the clasps.

A brief amount of calm settled through me. Pain killed. Absolutely murdered. I let my suffering arm lay limp across my lap as I leaned back in my workbench chair and closed my eyes.

No. I had to know what was up for grabs tomorrow.

Notifications came up, and I settled in for the ride. First was coordinates for the reward drop - more Sanguine stakes if Boss stuck to his word. I needed those for my job of killing supers. Well, my work seemed to be fighting villains a lot more lately.

And tomorrow would be no different.

Somebody had put a hit out on the rest of the Five Eyes gang. The wizard I had killed had been part of it, and now the others needed to join him in whatever afterlife they believed in. My brow furrowed, some nugget of information from the day unable to take form in my skull. I shook it away to dig into the details.

Four villains and some henchmen. Twenty-five grand per villain that I managed to knock off, but the full house wasn’t necessary. Was more of a raid than anything. Do as much damage to the group as I could, but at least one of the four had to die for it to be considered done.

Part of my brain was still working a mile a minute, the rest just couldn’t keep up. Hopefully, when I woke up, I’d still have the same fervor for… preparation? Was that it? I couldn’t just throw myself into danger without a second thought anymore?

Wasn’t sure if that was due to my new social connections, or the shadow of my past gaining more control. Confidence led it to the light, but the glare leaving me unable to work out the form it took just yet. Still, if it made me a better killer, I didn’t really care.

I had questions about so many things, but the only answer was bed.

Longest day of my life. I hit the mattress and died with a smile on my lack of a face. A flipbook of snapshots from the day rotated in the back of my eyes as I closed them. Every page where I was having a nice time with the pair quickly pasted over by the next, which had flashes of violence. Blood and the mutants dying. Grit and a steaming shotgun. Sweat and anger.

Something about the juxtaposition felt right… or at least like a challenge I could overcome. Build a different life beyond the things keeping us back from our potential.

As the darkness took me, I started to believe I could have my cake and kill it, too.