Episode: 1.4

--- Rook ---

Opening her door, she threw the bag she was carrying onto the living room table next to the first.

(So, I can’t abandon him, “no man left behind” and all that shit. Meaning… I’m stuck helping him, so I should do all I can…)

She grabbed the laptop from her room before turning it and the TV on.

Old instincts flared once her laptop was up and running. In less than a minute she had over a dozen news sites up, as well as the local News station. So long as an A-Rank criminal wasn’t up to mischief at least half of them would end up cover any bank robberies in the area, before the end of the night.

(Okay, steady stream of info now setup.)

(This’ll probably be useless for a couple hours, but at least it’s a start.)

With everything set up for the moment, she reached for the abandoned cup of coffee she’d left on the table earlier, hoping some caffeine would help her remember whatever details she was forgetting to her early retirement, and sleep deprivation.

The moment the coffee touched her tongue she couldn’t help but cringe.

(Shit, right… Been sitting here for half an hour…)

With a resigned sigh, she forced herself to keep moving and made her way to the kitchen for a refill. All the while listening to the jumble of noise as the various news stations blurred together, waiting for any words of importance to her and her dumbass’s problems.

Before she could leave the kitchen with cup in hand, her eyes managed to wander towards the fridge.

(Wonder if I should make something to eat?)

Her mind flashed to the aftermath of her first kill, and the taste of bile that stained her tongue for the rest of the week.

(On second thought, I should probably wait and see how he’s holding up.)

(If his stomach ‘s as twisted as mine was, he might not be able to eat.)

(And there’s nothing quite like a plate of food you can’t eat to remind you you’re not feeling well…)

Shaking her head, she left the kitchen and heard the sound of the shower running in the hallway bathroom.

(Speaking of… I should probably check on him, make sure he isn’t throwing his guts up already…)

She paused in front of the bathroom door, her hand half an inch from knocking.

(What do I even say?)

(‘How you holding up, killer?’)

She cringed as a chuckle escaped her, as she leaned her back against the door.

(God, that’s terrible…)

(If it wasn’t happening to him, he’d probably laugh…)

After a moment debating, she finally knocked on the door with the back of her knuckles.

“You okay, Jer?” she finally asked, unable to really think of anything else.

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(Of course, he’s not…)

After a moment, she knocked again, this time waiting for the water to slow before repeating her question.

“O-one second.” She heard him answer as the water stopped completely.

“W-what’s up?” His voice eventually asked through the door.

“Just checking in, making sure you aren’t on the floor crying or the toilet vomiting.” She explained, a little too exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally to control her bluntness.

“I-I’m good, just kind of… numb still…” he admitted, his tone only half-sure.

“Alright, just let me know when things start to…” she bit her lip as she tried to find the right words, before eventually deciding on, “get bad.” Since she didn’t know how else to describe it.

There was a pause, in which she thought he was going to speak up, before eventually a muted, “Okay…” drifted through the door.

She was about to leave when she heard him mumble something, “What was that?”

“Oh, I…” he started, probably not expecting her to hear him.

“Remember, if you aren’t ready to talk about it you don’t have to,” She told him, because as much as she wanted him to work through this before it could become a problem, she wanted him to shut down even less. “and I can wait however long it takes for you to be ready, even if that’s never.”

“Thanks…” he eventually told her through the door.

“No problem.” She said with a soft smile before returning to the living room.

(Thinking about it I’m lucky he hasn’t shut down completely, given how he is…)

An image of his last episode drifted through her mind, and how she had to call both his sister to sort him out, since she couldn’t.

(That’s his most likely reaction not the crying, vomiting, or whatever else…)

“Damn it…” she cursed, hand scrubbing at her face, “…He’s going to shut down…”

After a moment she shook her head.

“Alright… I can work through that, I’ve done it before.” She told herself, before turning her attention back to the laptop, pausing when she saw a new headline pass on one of the pages.

“Financial massacre…” she read aloud.

(Come on, how bad could that be, I mean the economy is already shit, right?)

(Let’s see…)

(‘During a violent bank robbery, six members of a criminal party were killed in a violent crossfire by an unknown second party.)

(Initially the hostages, whom had not seen the seventh assailant, having witnessed the masked man kill a Deviant member of the first party initially believed him to be a hero stepping in to rescue them.)

(This hope was quickly abandoned as the masked man proceeded to inform them of his intentions of robbing the bank, resulting in the theft of roughly one million dollars.’)

Paling she reread the small passage about the incident that the city news networks had not deemed important enough to get a full story in a city full of gangs and Deviants, but was still important enough to her to make her heart to stop.

(Six people… he fought six people, one of whom was a Deviant… and he, he won?)

(No, he killed them…)

(He killed a fucking Deviant?!)

She fell back, unable to process that bit of information.

The bathroom door opened, and Jericho stepped out with wet hair wearing clean clothes, and with a towel around his shoulders.

“What’s up?” he asked his face becoming concerned the moment he saw her.

(Shit, my face must be…)

She ran a hand over her face, wiping away whatever expression she’d been wearing, before forcing a smile and letting it fall away with a sigh, as she tried to disguise her shock with the worry, she was feeling on top of it, “You holding up, okay?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, before sighing, “I’m doing fine… Look, I get why you keep asking but whatever’s going on with my head it isn’t going to change in five minutes… well, unless you ask five minutes after I breakdown.” He added trying to lighten the mood, like he always did when things got depressing.

“Yeah, I get that.” She nodded, her eyes checking every inch of open skin for any scratches, bruises or anything else. Finding nothing exposed, she went ahead and explained, “I actually meant how are you’re holding up physically. With all that blood gone, we should be able to see how much of it was supposed to be in you.”

“None of it.” He told her plainly, moving to the couch.

“None of it?”

“Yeah, I mean I’ve got a couple bruises probably but no broken skin. And what’s that saying ‘no blood, no foul?’”

“You do not have enough street cred to say that, ever again.” She smirked, while freaking out on the inside.

(How the fuck did he kill five guys, let alone a Deviant without getting any injuries?!)

(Even I’d have trouble with a Deviant.)

Jericho watched her for a moment, his concern fairly clear, “Er, is everything… alright?”

(Maybe… maybe it was just a D-Rank?)

(Yeah… That makes sense…)

(Hell, anyone can take on a C-Rank if they’re trained hard enough, so he could luck out against a D-Rank…)

“Rook?”

(Distance.)

She jolted, leaping away from Jericho as she turned her entire body to face him.

Jericho watched her cautiously, almost treating her like an injured animal.

(Which, I guess I am, in a way…)