“It’s done,” a woman called as she walked through the doorway of the tiny bedroom.

Her haggard appearance nothing like it’d been two hours ago when she went in. Then she was full of energy, excited even to work this new case. Striding into the room with a pop in her step. Now her shoulders sagged and her eyes had large purple bags under them. The change making her already tiny frame look even smaller.

Without seeing her results, the man already knew she’d earned her keep. Her appearance alone told the story better than any report could.

“What’s the verdict?” he asked.

Leaning forward, the man rested his hands on his knees. Under him were the remnants of what was once a grand chair. Now its frayed fabric was held together by a dozen patch jobs. Stains of questionable origin splattered over them.

The chair stood alone in the center of the room. A monolith of human neglect. But what would you expect from a chair found on a street corner? A poorly written ‘for free’ sign pinned to the front of it.

Through all of that, the man was still happy with the seat. Its cushions had formed into the shape of his person, almost like they were hugging him. It was something you couldn’t find from the big box stores. They’d just as likely sell you cardboard and claim it was a diamond. He didn’t have to worry about that with this chair, it embraced its appearance. And as long as he didn’t look at the stains, it was fine.

The chair itself wasn’t the only thing of questionable appearance in the room. The walls and ceiling matched the chair’s condition. Water stains and grime coating them like tie dye. There wasn’t a single spot on the walls that remained its original color.

“You’re lucky I got here as fast as I did. Five minutes longer and he would have been dead,” the woman said as she strode up to the chair.

“Yeah lucky that...and the verdict?” the man asked again.

Shifting in his seat a trench coat, hanging on the back of the chair ruffled from the movement. The man turned at the sound and folded the coat back into place. Signs of wear visible on the fabric as he worked, even with the obvious care it was being given.

“He’ll make it. Just needs some rest.”

That was the first bit of good news Mr. Hat received all day. And with The Hunt on a media blitz, it was likely the only good news he’d get for a while.

“That’s good to hear,” Mr. Hat said. His voice a note off deadpan.

“Can I take that as my debt is paid?” the woman asked.

“In full.”

The woman tilted her head, but stayed where she was. The glint of a question in her eye.

She couldn’t have heard the news yet Mr. Hat thought. She’d been working on Source for the last few hours. Where would she have found time to find out about Source? But the woman hadn’t moved. And from her appearance it didn’t look like she was planning on moving anytime soon. She might not know everything going on, but she had ideas and sometimes that’s all it’d take.

“I was curious why you called me here to help a Hero-”

Mr. Hat cut her off, “He’s not a Hero.”

“Yet he wears that suit and is on The Hunt. The only team of Heroes in the area,” she said, before a hint of a smile danced onto her lips, “Though, I guess he won’t be welcomed back anytime soon.”

“None of them are Heroes,” Mr. Hat said. An old anger bubbling to the surface again, bringing with it a cold edge to his voice. His anger begged for an outlet, but Mr. Hat held it in check. Reminding himself of the value of patience. Especially with someone as valuable as the woman in front of him.

“Well whatever you call them, the kid in there was one of them. Now he’s just a heap of trouble. Trouble you brought me into.”

And here it comes. She would want extra for this. That was the problem with people like her. Everyone has something that drives them. For many it was their morals, for others the enjoyment. Both of which made them easy to read and deal with. Then there was the other group, like this woman, who only cared for one thing, the money coming in at the end of the day.

They’d already agreed on the price for healing the kid. Yet as soon as she got the whiff of a bigger payday she pounced. Sure, she’d say the price of the healing never changed and instead charge him for her silence. And truth be told there wasn’t much most people could do in a situation like this.

“You never saw him,” Mr. Hat said. Making his position crystal clear.

“I know, but the Broken Crest and The Hunt would both love to have a chat with him.”

“They both want to kill him.”

“I’m sure the Broken Crest wouldn’t. They’d-”

Interrupting the woman again, Mr. Hat said, “Not after they talked to him.”

“Fine, but that doesn’t mean they won’t be looking.”

Mr. Hat looked up from under his fedora to study the woman in front of him. While she looked worn out from the healing, that might be a ploy. Trying to lower his guard so he would make a mistake negotiating. She was notoriously tough to bargain with so he wouldn’t put the tactic past her. Looking closer at the woman Mr. Hat realized he might have to get serious on this one.

“Now before we do or say anything we shouldn’t, I ought to tell you a few friends know I’m here. They like the work I do for them and would be upset if anything prevented me from carrying out those tasks.”

“I’m not going to hurt you. Who do you think I am?”

The woman stared at Mr. Hat, deadpan, for a long moment. Okay, so she knew what he was capable of.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I think we can talk price.”

Mr. Hat spread his arms wide, pointing to the surrounding room. Inspecting the space they were in for the first time, the woman’s lips pursed together. She stifled a sniff as her nose scrunched up.

“I see you’ve fallen on hard times so we might have to work out a payment plan.”

It was called a safe house, not a rich house for a reason he thought. But if she believed this was how he lived, then so be it. It wasn’t his job to correct her misperception. And if he took advantage of it, then so be it. The woman continued without realizing her error.

“I know you have some useful skills. Being able to get into places you don’t belong being chief among them.”

“I sometimes find myself in that unfortunate situation,” Mr. Hat said with a helpless shrug of the shoulders.

The woman’s face broke into a roguish smile, “How about you do that for me once. We can say that makes us even for all the trouble this case may bring me.”

That was almost a workable deal. If she’d been negotiating with anyone else, they’d have taken it. Maybe there’d be a little more haggling, but they’d settle on something similar. Unfortunately for her, he wasn’t just anyone and had another way out of this situation.

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“You haven’t already told someone he’s here?” Mr. Hat asked.

“While I’m near him? How stupid do you think I am? What would I tell The Hunt when they broke in? ‘Hey, I healed the traitor, no need to thank me’. That wouldn’t go over very well now would it.”

Mr. Hat eyed her as she spoke, trying to find any hint of a lie. Once he was satisfied she was telling the truth, he began. Activating his powers without another word. The woman in front of him became transparent. Where she was standing a moment before, dozens of strings appeared in all shapes and sizes.

Mr. Hat looked over the tangled mess with the practiced eye of a master. Reviewing what he had to work with and how best to use it. Then, with his mind, he began to twist the strings. Starting with a few, then moving to more. He pulled each string into a different shape or contortion. There was no hesitation in the work or pause as he moved between strings. He knew what was needed and was proceeding along the shortest path to reach that goal.

With a woman of her conviction there was only so much he could change. But he didn’t need a full rewrite. With his small request there should be enough leverage for what he wanted.

While he worked, the woman in front of him stared ahead. Eyes unfocused to what was going on. After the briefest of moments, Mr. Hat was done. Taking a second to review his work he found everything in order. With another simple thought Mr. Hat’s powers took hold.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice Doctor Ness. I’m sorry the patient demanded his identity be concealed, but you know how things can be in this line of work.”

The woman across from him, Doctor Ness, nodded her head. Looking unsure of what was happening.

“Understandable,” the doctor mumbled as she looked around.

“It was fine work you did in there. Befitting of your position and yet more proof you’re the only one to call in a situation like this.”

Sometimes he had to butter people up after he used his ability. Let them know what he’d like them to think. And this was one such time as the doctor’s face broke into a big smile after the compliment.

“Now I believe we’re even.”

“Of course. It was great doing business with you. I almost feel like I cheated you out of a fair deal with what little work I had to do.”

The doctor’s appearance hadn’t changed, she was still a drained mess, but the pop in her step was back. Mr. Hat’s powers helping her forget her fatigue.

“Nonsense. I won’t have any of that from you. We had a deal, and regardless of the difficulty of the task, you held up your end of the bargain. I must do the same as well. The debt has been paid.”

“Perfect, then I’ll leave you to your...cleaning,” the doctor said as she looked around the room.

Very subtle of her. Mr. Hat wanted to laugh at how she brought up the condition of his apartment, but thought better of it. No reason to upset the good doctor after he just fixed everything. And she was being nicer this time than her first attempt. She hadn’t straight out called him poor, yet. With that in mind Mr. Hat coughed into his hand to hide his laughter before saying.

“Why, yes. The place needs some work. But life brings many trials. I just find myself in a particular rough point right now.”

“Do stop by if you need anything. I’m sure we could work something out. Find you a better place to stay, perhaps.”

Where she’d be able to keep an eye on him, Mr. Hat filled in her plan. There was no chance he’d do something like that.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Mr. Hat said. Deciding to stay with diplomacy.

With their small bit of pleasantries out of the way and the healing finished, Mr. Hat got up and ushered the doctor to the door. Without taking a second look back, the doctor walked outside. Getting her bearings in the unfamiliar neighborhood before rushing towards the waiting car. The driver was already standing by the door. Shifting from one foot to the other while he waited. Seeing the doctor approach he opened the door to let her in. As soon as she was inside, he hurried into the driver’s seat and peeled away.

Needless drama from those two if you asked him. They must have expected someone to jump out of an alley and try to rob them at any second, but that didn’t happen in this neighborhood. Robbers would wait for you to leave then break into your apartment. Much easier that way. No need to meet the victim or add unnecessary complications.

Though he should cut them some slack. There were some neighborhoods where a mid day mugging wasn’t out of the question. You had to know your run-down neighborhoods to see the difference between them. Something he doubted either of those people had any experience with.

Looking up and down the street, Mr. Hat made sure there were no prying eyes. The street was of a similar quality to the apartment itself. Graffiti decorating the walls of the run-down buildings. Roof drainage pipes broken or missing from most places. And broken bikes and other goods starting to overflow from the alleys. But through it all there was no overt sign of danger.

From the neighborhood’s appearance you’d be hard pressed to see why people lived here. But Mr. Hat’s building alone had a dozen units in it, all of them occupied. In his three months here he’d managed to talk to zero other tenants. They were the ideal neighbors if you asked him. All looking to be left alone.

After watching the doctor leave, Mr. Hat shut the door and locked it. Five different locks clicking into place. Three on the side of the door, with keys holes outside to unlock them. And two bolts on the top and bottom of the door. Both, only operable from the inside.

The security measures might appear paranoid to many people. And Mr. Hat had to admit they might be a little much, but in his line of work you were expected to be paranoid. And while he had no fear of being attacked in this neighborhood, he didn’t think for a second that people wouldn’t try to rob him blind given the chance.

Even his locks wouldn’t be enough to keep the most determined of intruders out. But the time commitment involved in breaking into his place would be enough to deter the less enthusiastic ones.

With the Doctor gone, Mr. Hat walked into the bedroom. Finding himself alone with an unconscious wannabe do gooder, his title stripped away. Knocked out from the beating he’d taken the night before. Add on the healing he’d just gone through and the kid wouldn’t be getting up for a few more hours, at the earliest.

Looking at the kid on the bed, soft snores escaped his mouth. All Mr. Hat could think of was how stupid it was for bringing him here. He knew why he’d done it, but pushed the thought away.

The actual moving of the kid had been interesting. He’d never pushed a dumpster before. Something he was all too happy to never do again.

It was lucky the kid fell into the thing to begin with. At first Mr. Hat lifted him out of the dumpster and carried him, but being decked out in armor the kid was heavier than he looked. Mr. Hat made it a few blocks before he switched to plan B. Remembering where the kid landed Mr. Hat didn’t feel the least bit embarrassed dumping him back into a dumpster. Then pushing it to his apartment. Hoisting the kid into the building. Before bringing the dumpster to an alley a few blocks away. A much easier if far smellier process.

With his ability the whole trip was rather uneventful. Sure pushing the dumpster was a pain but anyone who saw him forgot a few seconds later, so that wasn’t an issue. And he could get away from the old factory, where the fight occurred, before anyone came to check out what’d happened. And even more importantly, before Ullr swept back in to ask anymore questions. Both annoyances Mr. Hat was glad to avoid.

Now the kid was here, safe at least for the night. Torn out of his suit, thanks to a hammer and a lot of crafty work on Mr. Hats part. Laying in a bed with sheets soaked red. The person himself looked fine now, unlike when he first arrived.

Doctor Ness had proven her ability to heal, as always. Mr. Hat knew she wasn’t lying when she said the kid would be okay, even before he verified it. Her reputation had been on the line, so she’d deliver. Now standing before the young man that reputation was still intact.

The only problem was the price he paid. Fixing the kid for an owed favor. Not how he’d envisioned using the favor. It was likely a bad decision unless the kid proved valuable later. If Mr. Hat could convince him to join the cause, then he might be able to earn something back, but that wasn’t guaranteed. An incompetent helper was worse than none at all.

The real question now was how Source would react when he got up. Sure he looked fine, externally. But who knows what he’d be thinking after what he’d just been through.

Leaving everything up to how the kid reacted when he woke up was another bad decision. Mr. Hat was about to chide himself again when he remembered what she would’ve wanted. That was all it took for him to sigh and move on.

He opened the closet door and the kid’s suit fell to the floor. The green and black painted metal pieces looking out of place in the apartment. Even with the extensive damage, the armor looked too nice. Better than anything Mr. Hat himself would keep around.

Looking over the damaged suit, Mr. Hat was surprised he’d found the kid inside of it alive. Every piece of the black and green armor was scratched and dented to varying degrees. A knife was still stuck in the torso and one boot was demolished. He’d found the boot with a metal bar sticking through it. He’d pulled the bar out, little good that would do. The bar did far more damage than simple superficial scuffing the armor. Without the healing, the kid’s leg would have attested to that.

After checking on his guest and the armor, Mr. Hat rose to leave the room when he spotted Sources’s helmet. A cut running deeply through the ‘TH-S’ logo. A fitting sign of his new position Mr. Hat thought before turning and leaving the room. The team was scratching out his memory in the media. Might as well match the theme with his armor.

Going over to the kitchen Mr. Hat rummaged through several cabinets. With his guest he’d have to do a little spring cleaning, lest he scare the kid away. He pulled out a few objects from under the sink before covering them in his coat. Now to move the cylinders to a new hiding place, somewhere Source wouldn’t find them, when he woke up.

Anyone watching him work would’ve realized the danger of what Mr. Hat just put in his coat. The little cylinders with wires sticking out of them weren’t something any law-abiding citizen would have or want to be around.