Attrition Warfare

by NoirFan7

A quality RockxRevy! This arc takes place after the events of Roberta's Blood Trail. Rock's evolution into a true pirate begins to manifest itself, while Revy struggles with repressed and conflicting feelings for him. Lagoon's dangerous new assignment has them working closely together aboard a luxury cruise liner. Who will survive? M for sex, violence, and swearing... awesome.

2. Aggressive Expansion

"I am the punishment of God… If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you." —Genghis Khan

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

Rock awoke the next morning to the incessant pounding of his front door per his employer.

"Rock! Get your ass in gear! We're way behind schedule!" Dutch hollered, his deep voice muffled behind the cheaply made pre-hung.

Rock sat up, rubbing his eyes before replying, "Yeah! I'll be right out. Give me ten minutes."

"You've got seven." Dutch stipulated, and walked away.

Rock listened for Dutch's massive frame to move back down the hallway, waiting until he was sure he was alone before falling back on his pillow, exhausted. He held his temples with sharp discomfort, feeling as though his head might split open at any second. Jesus. Did he get hit by a train last night? He recollected on the day before carefully. After their fight, Rock had left Revy at the market place, and walked to the Yellow Flag to get drunk, very drunk. After that, the whole night was a blur. All he could remember with any real detail was that dream he'd had, or was it a nightmare? Terrible, and wonderful, and painful, and… exhilarating; not to mention sexy. God, it was sexy, like a damn Bertolucci-movie. Rock was getting flustered again just thinking about it.

He looked over at his alarm clock and cursed. Shit, already past noon. He had to get a move on. He tossed his linens aside and went to the bathroom. With no time for a shower, he walked to the mirror and opened it to reveal a humble medicine cabinet. He reached for the Alka-Seltzer, and then his hand began to slow before Rock froze altogether. He closed the mirror back slowly; his stomach turning as his reflection floated back into frame.

"What the…?" Rock said aloud, dumbfounded.

Blood? There was dried blood on the side of his face, stemming from a rather large bruise along his left temple. Did he get into it with someone at the bar last night? No. No, Rock would've remembered something like that. Did he maybe trip and fall on his way home? He was pretty drunk, after all. No, that's not right either, he took a cab. Rock thought long and hard as he lightly grazed his fingertips along the flakey red injury. Stinging at his touch, suddenly, it hit him like a kick in the nuts.

"Oh, no. No, no, no." Rock muttered ominously as his knees began to give, resting his elbows on the sink for support, his face in his hands. "Revy." He said her name with painful illumination, peering through the gaps of his fingers with disquieted eyes, as if the reminiscence was just slightly more than he could accept. Slowly it all started coming back to him. Her grief, the smell of her hair; tobacco and lilacs; her pink hands, callused index fingers, the taste of rum and sweat, and all the things they'd whispered in the dark together.

It wasn't a dream, it really happened. What was Rock going to do? What could he do? The memory was so surreal to him, so open to interpretation. He had to get his head back; sort it all out. He had to find Revy and make things right with her however he could. Rock splashed some cold water on his face, brushed his teeth, and choked down an extra-strength painkiller, as his skull was still filled with torment. After leaving the bathroom, Rock found his jeans on the floor from the previous day and began to get dressed.

He installed himself in a rocking chair and pulled on his used Ariats with nervous pessimism for the day ahead. As he readjusted his pant legs back over the flea market cowboy boots, Rock looked up at his vintage Japanese poster of Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver. He felt a little better, remembering how Travis Bickle wasn't very good with women either. Then again, Travis was an obsessive, vigilante, insomniac. Rock looked to his other postered movie-heroes for encouragement: Kowalski from Vanishing Point, Jimmy "Popeye" Doyle; The French Connection, and of course, Frank Bullitt in Bullitt. He had Revy to thank for continuing his education in the action-cinema. Holding up in her room together while they watched pirated new releases on VHS, or driving to the local revival house to re-screen classics in Thai subtitles, had become Rock's most enjoyable past time over the last year. No matter how much he liked to imagine it, though, Rock's life was not a movie, but rather, something far more visceral and capricious.

He stood up and walked to a distorted reflection of himself in the cracked closet mirror. He hoped to unriddle a man inside, but a stranger was standing in his place, he thought. A dark passenger he'd arrested in his youth, yet never entirely put away. Rock was starting to feel his mask of cordiality and abstemiousness beginning to slip, like his soul had gone unreconciled for far too long; his cup of inequity almost full. Something awful was happening inside of Rock, and he didn't know what. He fastened his brown leather belt with the silver buckle engraved with Calico Jack's Jolly Roger (another initially unwanted gift per Revy). Then, Rock slipped on a simple, cream, cotton henley, and rolled up the sleeves. Taking a last look in the mirror before leaving, he tussled his mohawk unevenly to one side, simulating the style he'd had before cutting his hair. Then, he finally left his apartment.

Upon stepping into the hallway and shutting the door behind him, Rock was instantly put off by the sound of frenetic busy-work coming from Lagoon's open office up the hall. He could hear Dutch haggling with credible informants via telephone, while Benny scurried along his main board, typing so loudly Rock could hear him even at this distance. He felt guilty. His fellow sailors had been hard at work since yesterday, ensuring the best possible intel for the mission before shipping out, while he and Revy ran a single, facetious errand. Dutch was probably pissed, but he was going to have to wait for his explanation a bit longer. Rock needed to take care of things on his own end first; Revy's room being on the other end of the hall, ironically.

Rock was cautious, lest his footsteps be heard. He stopped just outside the office doorway, and listened to Dutch's voice in relation to where he stood inside. Once Rock was convinced his captain's back was turned, he stepped over to the other side, unseen. He continued forward, to the last room on the left. Rock wasn't sure why, but that had a somewhat creepy ring to it. He didn't bother knocking, as Revy never bothered to lock her door anyway. Guess she figured, of all the rooms in this rotten city, no one was stupid enough to just let themselves into hers; except for Rock.

He turned the rusty knob and cracked the door, broadcasting a coded signal under his breath, "Flash." He muttered. It was the first phrase of their secret password; a throwback to Allied military tactics in WWII. On the battlefield of the European theatre circa 1944, if you were a friendly, you knew the second phrase, or you got shot. Revy taught him that too.

No answer. Maybe she fell asleep with her headphones on again? Rock walked inside to a vacant, and disheveled apartment. Revy's room was always a pigsty, but this was worse than usual. Furniture was turned over, bits of broken glass littered the floor, and the refrigerator door had been left open. None of it sat right with Rock. He moved around slowly, careful not to upset anything, as if he had just stepped into a cold crime scene.

"If you're looking for Revy, she's gone." Dutch stated simply, startling Rock from behind the open doorway.

Rock turned to face him, agitated. "Where'd she go?" He asked.

"Didn't say. Left a couple of hours ago." Dutch answered, crossing his arms to lean against the door frame, smoking his cigarette. "If I know Revy, she's probably at the beach."

A plausible theory; Revy did sometimes go for her morning runs out that way, and that was enough to get Rock started. He moved to exit her apartment, but was then incredulously halted by Dutch's fixed stature. He stood there, waiting impatiently for his CO to dismiss him.

"Rock, its none of my business, but…" Dutch with the inevitable, paused to articulate his qualm. "Did something happen between you and Revy yesterday? She wasn't acting like her self this morning, and Benny said she was upset when he she came back from your trip. Did you two have a fight?"

For once, Rock didn't respond right away, maintaining a deliberate, and solemn stare forward. Without looking at his captain, he spoke, "Get out of my way, Dutch." Rock sternly directed. His tone critical and preoccupied, demanding autonomy.

A tense silence now dominated the air between them. Rock had never spoken to Dutch in this manner before. He looked at Rock indignantly behind his tinted eye-ware. Saying nothing, he acceded his friends request for privacy and moved aside. Rock walked passed him, turning left for the nearby staircase.

"I gave Revy the list of all the stops you'll both be making today. Take the Goat, pick her up, and get it done!" Dutch ordered with edictal authority as Rock made his descent, unmoved.

A few moments later and Rock stepped down from the sidewalk to move around the hood of the GTO parked out front; Lagoon's signature monterro red paint job gleaming in the sun as he crossed. He opened the driver door and stepped inside. As always the keys were left carelessly in the ignition by Revy, but just like her room, she knew nobody was stupid enough to steal from the Lagoon Company. Rock turned her over, throating the engine a couple of times to get the carburetors pumping. Clutch in, second gear bypass, and with 360 horsepower at 431 foot-pounds of torque, Rock floored the accelerator and blasted southbound for the gulf. He had become quite the proficient driver since joining up with Dutch's diverse little crew of ragtag privateers, considering he'd never had so much as a learner's permit living in Japan.

Red light. Rock upshifted into third, cutting dangerously through a busy intersection using vacant oncoming lanes. Horns were blared and insults thrown in foreign tongues as Rock blazed past the speeding cars and mopeds traveling perpendicular to him. He completed his risky maneuver unscathed, and all without so much as a peak into his rearview mirror. And I used to be such a nice guy, he thought.

Within about 10 minutes, Rock scaled back his blitzkrieg handling, and turned east, now parallel Roanapur's beachfront. He took Dutch's hunch to heart, determined to find Revy out there, somewhere. After pulling into a visitor's parking lot, he turned off the car, and stepped out. It was the high point of the day, and the sun was brutal; it's harsh rays taxing Rock's field of vision. He walked between two large coconut palms separating the city from its pristine white beaches.

The native children ran and laughed and played in the surf, yet exhibited the maturities and sound judgements of adults wise beyond their years. This was evident as their parents seemed to be nowhere in sight. You grow up fast in this city, Rock empathized. He stepped down onto the hot sand, and walked forward with his hands in his pockets. He scanned for her profile, taking care to stop and secretary the size and shape of any young woman who was alone. He couldn't see her from here. He moved further toward the water, the cool ocean breeze kissing at the sweat on his face and neck.

Rock turned west and started down the beach, the water nipping at his leather heels as the tide rolled in. It was so peaceful, Rock almost forgot why he'd gone there in the first place. It had been non-stop since he got out of bed, and Rock hadn't even taken the time to really think about what he was going to say to Revy. Should he apologize again? Or would that just make things worse? Did he try to explain himself? Then again, why should he? He made sound arguments… no. He couldn't try and justify his treatment of her, even if he had had the best of intentions. In this case, when the wrong man uses the right means, the right means work in the wrong way. Now if there was something wrong with the way he thought, how could he fix it? How could he become the right man again? All his puzzling and second guessing was brought to an end, however, when Rock spotted a very familiar silhouette down the beach.

It was faint, and the humidity made his eyes strain for focus, looking out from under the shade of his palm. Slowly he began to make her out: a plum-haired ponytail, long well shaped limbs, that strong, yet slender physique. There was no mistaking it; Revy.

Rock took off running, calling out her name to get her attention, and to prove to himself she wasn't just a mirage. "Revy! Hey!" Rock yelled, waving his arm overhead as he closed the distance between them. As he got closer, Rock could see that she was immersed in a strenuous workout session, sparring barefoot in the tide as she combatted multiple invisible enemies; her tan skin glistening in the sun.

"Revy! Hey, its Rock! Can't you hear me?" Rock called to her again, now directing his voice with his hand. Nothing. Was she ignoring him? She had to have heard him at this distance.

Rock finally stopped several yards behind her, pausing to catch his breath. When he looked up, he could see now plainly that Revy was listening to her Sony Walkman Cassette Player, her headphones blaring industrial rock tunes as she continued warding off her imaginary attackers. Her form was lithe, and capable of great effort and endurance; her elbows, fists, and kicks nothing short of an expert in Krav Maga, but Rock knew this already. Donning her usual black sports bra and daisy dukes shorts, Revy was, remarkably, without her guns.

As nervous as he had been to confront her, Rock was relieved to see her in such high spirits. He composed himself, realizing Revy still hadn't taken notice of him and walked toward her to place a friendly hand on her right shoulder.

"Flash!" Revy cried out suddenly, whipping around at breakneck speed. She took hold of his wrist, launching him clear over her body and Rock hit the Earth with a resonant smack. She then twisted his wrist outward and away from him, before dropping her knee hard on his throat, cutting off his escape, and his air.

"Ack! Thu-! Thun-!" Rock struggled for dear life, Revy's body slowly crushing his wind pipe.

Revy looked down at him with a frightening, emotionless expression. He was at her mercy. With her free hand, she pulled her headphones back behind her neck and asked, "What?" Lessening the pressure on Rock's neck.

He gasped for air, saying it one last time, "Thunder…" Rock looked up at her with beseeching eyes, as he articulated the second phrase of their password, attempting to reach her humanity.

Revy waited there above him for a long moment, and then mysteriously released him from her clutches to stand. He rocked forward, eyes wincing as he jealously lapped up air, rubbing his throat in hardship. He looked back up to meet her gaze, and then, something told Rock in that moment, Revy might not yet have gotten over what happened between them the previous night. He cautiously returned to his feet; Revy turning abruptly to walk away. She moved to retrieve her boots and gun leather resting neatly in the sand nearby.

"Revy." Rock managed her name only once before being cut off.

"Move your ass. We got shit to do." Revy mandated coldly. She threw her leathers over one shoulder and carried her boots in the other hand as she started back towards the street.

Rock stood there, watching her walk away, understanding full well now that Revy wasn't going to go easy on him today. More likely, she would be as Virgil was to Dante, entering him into the ninth circle of hell; the circle of traitors. Rock followed with morbid reluctance and a few minutes later they were both back in the Goat. After closing his door, Rock sat in the driver's seat, blankly staring at the wooden steering wheel in front of him, trying to find the right words. He slighted his head, opening his mouth to speak, but before he could mutter a single syllable, Revy had already started back her new copy of NIN's The Downward Spiral;maxing out the volume on her headphones as she lit up a cigarette. Rock sighed, discouraged and started the GTO back up. He pulled out to the street not knowing which direction to go, and in a surprising turn, Revy, without looking, extended him a folded piece of paper between two fingers. He took the note with silent gratitude, opening it to reveal Dutch's list of errands to be run that day. First up was Praiyachat's place.

An easy enough start to the work day. It took Rock all of five minutes to navigate the downtown area and locate the native arms dealer's place of business, or more accurately, his front. Praiyachat's son buzzed them in and the old Thai gunsmith was quick to greet his favorite customer from the other side of his shop.

"Hey there Revy, here for another tune-up?" The aborigine elder greeted. He walked up to her, proudly renewing their camaraderie with a sideways high-five.

"You know it, Old-P." Revy resounded, grateful to see him as well.

The three of them walked back into his workshop; his impressive armory of custom firearms on display for frivolous spenders. Outside of being a privater seller, Praiyachat's real passion lay in everything custom guns. Calibers, finishes, sights, grips, engravings, machine tooling, accessories, ect. If you had imagination and the cash to back it up, this guy could make it a reality. As the old man began to break down Revy's cutlasses on his work table, Rock hung back in the doorway, feeling the strangest sense of déja vu wash over him.

"Revy! What have you been doing lately!? The firing pins 'bout snap in two!" Praiyachat objected in broken English.

"Aw, geez! How longs it going to take to fix this time?" Revy asked, disappointed.

"I need replacement parts from warehouse. You come back tomorrow, I have them ready then." He answered.

That was the last thing she wanted to hear. Twenty-four hours without her boys felt like an eternity for Revy. She begrudgingly accepted and paid off her old friend in advance. As she walked out of his work shop, Praiyachat followed, looking like he might slide his security door closed so he could work in peace. Before he did so, however, he motioned to Rock who was about to turn and follow Revy out. He knelt down to the inquisitive senior, who gestured him to come closer and Rock listened in, befuddled.

"Almost done, Rock." Praiyachat whispered into Rock's ear.

Rock looked at the tiny old man like he was senile or something. Or maybe, Rock had amnesia? What could the old man possibly be referring to? He couldn't place it, but for some reason Rock felt like he was supposed to know what Praiyachat meant by that; but what?

"Um." Rock paused curiously.

"Rock! Let's go!" Revy shouted from the entrance of the store, unaware of the exchange that just occurred between her partner and gunsmith.

"Uh, yeah." Rock followed after her, taking one last look back at Praiyachat who gave him a trusting wink before leaving. That was weird, Rock thought.

Rock and Revy, back in the GTO, crossed the first stop off their list. Up next was Janet Bhai A.K.A. Greenback Jane. Oh Joy…

It was half-past two by the time they arrived. Jane was now living in a bungalow off of 16th and Jaaeng. The area was mostly rural-agrarian out there, with very few buildings and lots of long, unkempt grass between them. The beach was nearby, and even a little cafe right on the waterfront, and being only twenty minutes outside Roanapur's city-limits, it wasn't a bad little spot. It had been so long, since Rock had seen Jane, he couldn't even remember if her and Benny were still dating. He never asked about his partner's personal lives; kind of an unspoken rule in Lagoon Company. Rock pulled into a white sand driveway and turned off the car. Revy was the first to get out, and then Rock followed.

"Hey, you guys!" Jane greeted happily, waving from her wooden porch. "I heard you pull in."

"Congratulations, curry-muncher, you cracked the case." Revy remarked with sarcastic apathy as she stepped up into the shade.

"And it's just so nice to see you too again, Revy. I can see you're still just… awful." Janet countered with an insincere smile and crossed arms.

Revy stepped forward, her thumbs hooked into her belt line with intimidation as she towered over Jane's considerably tinier stature, Jane all the while doing her best to appear brave. A moment passed, and Revy smirked, then pushed past the young counterfeiter to walk into her home via the open doorway.

"Hey! I didn't say you could come in yet!" Jane growled, embarrassed at how easily she was overtaken. Even without Revy's cutlasses, she was still one scary bitch.

"Hey, Jane." Rock followed gently, stepping up onto the porch as well.

Jane gasped when she turned to look back at him. "Rock!" She exclaimed joyfully, leaping up to wrap her arms around his neck. "I can't believe it! God, it's so good to see you again. How are you?" She asked, face-to-face, her skinny arms still latched around him.

What a sweet kid, Rock thought. Their last meeting left him with a slightly sour taste in his mouth for her, but he could see now that he might've been judging a little too harshly. After all, every psycho and hired gun was trying to kill her at the time.

"Fine, thanks. Good to see you, too." Rock said warmly, politely placing her back on the ground so she might release him.

"And what's with the new look!" Jane said surprised, stepping back to give Rock an unashamed once-over. "Well, someone just got a whole lot cuter! Damn it! Ha ha! Yee-haw, mama like. Love the mohawk."

"Hey, button-head! Let's fuckin' do this already!" Revy shouted impatiently from inside the house, and ending Jane's playful leching of Rock.

A bead of sweat rolled down Jane's head. "I was born in Miami you evil bitch!" Jane shouted back through the doorway. She resented Revy's racist comments, more than most; obviously proud of her Indian heritage. Jane turned back to Rock steaming. "God, that woman is insufferable! How can you even stand her?"

Rock bit his tongue, knowing his life probably depended on it.

"Listen, I'm just now putting the finishing touches on things. I hope you don't mind waiting in the house for a bit." Jane requested, always the little perfectionist.

"Uh, sure. How much longer do you think you'll be?" Rock asked with naiveté.

Several more hours passed while Lagoon waited for Jane to wrap things up. Rock and Revy relaxed in the living room as they helped themselves to coffee and sandwiches, relieving themselves to the privy from time-to-time. Revy was currently sprawled out on the couch in a snooze as Rock skillfully rolled a fresh cigarette in a nearby wicker chair.

"Ta-da!" Jane announced musically as she emerged from the adjacent room. She was holding a large manila envelope.

"Jesus-fuckin'-finally!" Revy blasphemed in relief as she sprang to her feet. Rock followed, slipping his fresh tobacco product back behind his ear. "This everything like we asked?" Revy submitted with a suspicious tone. Dutch had clearly informed her of all the details for their errands that day.

"Yep! Perfect fake documentation. No one will be looking at you." Jane smiled, satisfied with her skills as a forger.

"You mean you're not dealing in counterfeit money anymore?" Rock queried, surprised at the true nature of their business there.

"You're… you're joking right? After everything that happened to me!? I had to leave the country for six months!" Jane exclaimed. "Nope, I'm in the people business now… well fake people, that is. Driver's licenses, passports, birth certificates, you name it! A paperhanger like me can really thrive creatively in this field, and I don't have to work around anybody else's schedule. I can do everything myself."

"Alright, already. Hand them over!" Revy snapped, attempting to swipe the package from Jane's hands.

Jane evaded. "Hold on! What about the fee Dutch promised me, huh? This stuff ain't cheap ya know!" She said, protecting her investment from her unwelcome guest.

"Oh. Right." Revy, remembering reluctantly. In a racy turn, she then pulled her sports bra up just below her nipples, revealing two white envelopes wedged between her profuse, yet perfectly symmetrical cleavage. "Here." She said, handing one over to Jane.

"Um… thanks." Jane wretched, put off by the uncivilized gesture. She swapped envelopes regardless. "Eww! It's all sweaty and gross! You pig!"

Revy snickered behind a toothy grin, handing the envelope over to Rock. He took the opportunity to unwind the seal and root inside.

"Whoa! Jane, you did all this one day!" Rock was stupefied, flipping through his new fake passport in astonishment. How'd she get hold of his picture, he wondered?

"Yes, and thank you!" Jane boasted, stroking her ego. "Aging the drafting ink under UV light is the quickest way to achieve desired results, but you risk scoring the polyethylene seal, so I decided to make the switch to acrylic in the interest of time. There will be some color inconsistencies on the watermark between union scripts, but only the very best of the best will notice this. Now, had I been given sufficient notice for this order ahead of time, I could have sun-dried the immigration stamps naturally yielding more believable breakage in the punch dates. Also, I didn't have any…"

"Okay! Fine! Good! We get it!" Revy snapped in annoyance, turning to let herself out the way they came and slamming the door behind her.

The abruptness of Revy's exit filled Jane's home with an awkward silence. "What's her problem? She's bitchier than I remember." Jane said, perplexed.

Rock didn't like hearing that, but he was too tired and too distracted to explain Revy's mood for her. "I wouldn't worry about it, Jane. So, are you and Benny still seeing each other?" Rock, smartly changing the subject.

Jane's confused expression was now replaced with a happy one and she replied, "Yes. But, we both really love our independence, and so we only see each other a few times a months. We IM a lot, though, and I do hope we can move in together one day." Jane replied, blushing at the mention of her obvious muse.

Benny, you dog, you, Rock thought. He had no idea. "I'm happy for you two." He congratulated, smiling warmly. "Glad somebody made it."

Jane's happy expression was now replaced with a slightly, bewildered one. "How do you mean?" She asked.

Beeep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Rock was cut off by the obnoxious sound of the GTO's car horn honking out front. Revy was obviously fed up with waiting.

"Rock! Get your pansy-ass in this car right now or I'm leaving you here!" Revy yelled from the passenger window, before returning to the horn.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beeep!

"Does she always get this way when a woman shows you some attention?" Jane inquired.

Rock actually wanted to think about that for a moment, but Revy's meddlesome honks kept ruining his train of thought. "Ah, forget it. Its good to see you again, Jane. You look well." Rock moved to take his leave, opening her front door and stepping outside.

"Take care of yourself, Rock." Jane followed behind and gave him an endearing farewell hug when he turned back.

Rock gratefully returned the kind gesture. This lasted only seconds, though, as their embrace was done in plain sight of Revy and the Goat; it's deafening horn pushed for one long, continuous use as a result.

"Okay, God damn it! I'm coming!" Rock, finally loosing his temper, broke the hug to yell back at Revy from the porch.

Revy ceased her audible vexing, and sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring at Rock with contemptuous eyes.

He looked back to Jane one last time before leaving and spoke, "Bye, Jane." Smiling fondly, he then turned to walk back to the car.

As the Goat backed out of her driveway, Jane smiled and waved goodbye, grateful to see the people who saved her life again, people she thought of as friends, even Revy.

Rock shifted into first and started back the way they came. Another tense and quiet journey ensued, neither saying a word to one another for the entire trip. The rolling hills of the countryside slowly faded away in the rear view as large warehouses and familiar buildings began reemerging. Eventually Lagoon was back in their turf city without even realizing it. Coming home always seemed easier than leaving, Rock thought, suddenly realizing where he called home. He scanned the list Revy had given him again, then turned right at an intersection to climb north, to the red light district of Roanapur.

An ironic handle, Rock scrutinized, being that the entire city seemed as one giant brothel. However, even he knew, that at the corner of 132nd and Nohm, all bets were off. This place could give Amsterdam's De Wallen a run for its money. It was barely six o'clock, and the high class shit was already out on the streets, or advertising behind bay windows and glass doors. You had to pay top dollar for these girls, as almost all the property owners kicked up protection money to Mister Chang and the Hong Kong Triads. Combine that with being located directly inside Roanapur's limited metropolitan area, and you found yourself strangely in the safest part of the city.

The sun hung low above the horizon, it's soft orange and red hues mixing with the bright and changing greens and pinks and violet neons that advertised this den of iniquity. Rock rolled through slowly, glassing behind the windshield for their last stop of the day.

"There." He said promptly, stopping the car upon the spotting the address. He skillfully backed into a vacant parking spot just outside, then became very confused as to the nature of their business there. "I don't get it. Revy, what does Dutch want from a place like this?" He asked, forgoing any sore feelings he had with her for the time being.

Revy now seemed very uneasy herself, looking up at the carefully disguised bordello. Rock knew she knew why they were there, but Revy had clearly demoted him to need-to-know basis only; and he didn't need to know right now.

"Come on." She said simply, opening her car door to step out.

Rock followed in suit. He made his way around the hood of the car to the sidewalk alongside Revy. He looked up again to the red, neon-lit sign for Feilong's Hoard. An artist's depiction of the fabled flying dragon above, was cast in electrical brilliance. At a glance, the venue appeared as a trendy, three-story, high-end clothing boutique. It had clay brick architecture, large bay windows displaying opulent merchandise, white mannequins standing against veiled black backdrops, and a burgundy-painted wooden door that preached exclusivity. Rock wasn't an idiot, though, and was aware of this carefully constructed ruse as nothing more than a front for something far more disreputable, given its location. Revy approached the door first and knocked.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

A few seconds passed and a small rectangular viewing slot slip open to reveal a pair of young, alluringly feminine eyes.

"I think you're in the wrong place, little girl." Said the peeper with a thick eastern-european accent, possibly Russian.

Revy said nothing, then very unexpectedly slid her fingers down into the tight opening between her panty line and denim shorts, retrieving a unique red and black poker chip (her bottomless pockets obviously no place for this little curio).

"Open the door, you ruskie-bitch." Revy affronted, and slipped the chip into the viewing slot.

The dark mascaraed eyes looked down to inspect the entry token, then back up again before sliding the panel closed. The sound of a steel deadbolt unlatched, and the door opened to reveal a young, scantily clad prostitute. Her figure was carnal and healthy, wrapped in lacy, see-through, lingerie complete with thigh-high stockings, garter belt, and high heels; her bleach-blonde hair was shoulder-length and illuminated by a halo of red light emanating from the kind of bulbs you'd find in a photographer's developing room.

She spoke with a hand on one hip as she held the door open. "I'm from the Ukraine, Eggroll."

Revy spat in aversion before letting herself in. Rock close behind, couldn't help but notice a subtle wink of solicitation from the beguiling young sex worker as he passed her by. Rock followed his partner down the narrow, poorly lit hallway; the corridor ending in a main store room densely organized with expensive, wares, clothes, and accessories. The establishment was lit with a combination of low-watt halogens and red lightbulbs giving the place a real southern-New Orleans vibe. The floor was made up of rich, Corinthian carpet tastefully patterned in gold and black accents while the walls were lined with posh, dark purple velvet begging to be felt by ones hand. On top of it all, there seemed to be two or more similarly undressed women of ill repute in every corner of the store, each of their own unique race or ethnicity. It was like a UNICEF-ad for whores. Their foreign perfumes and natural fertile scents overpowered the senses. No doubt, everything in this joint had been illegally trafficked in via piracy, the fairer sex included.

"Oh hello, twinkie. So sorry. We no have work for oversize slut here, but tranny-joint maybe take you down street." It was unmistakable, the thick Taiwanese accent and broken English of Shenhua strained the ear as she stepped out from behind a coat rack of lavish and exotic furs.

"Hey, Chenglish." Revy smirked, sticking her hip out as she greeted her old rival and killer-colleague. "How'd you know it was me?"

"I hear gait of cow like mile away." Shenhua jibed, hiding her mouth to giggle.

Shenhua stood opposite Lagoon Company, separated by a beautiful leopard skin ottoman with three of Feilong's girls advertising atop in sexually, provocative positions. Shenhua herself still looked the same; long silky black hair, the right side draped strategically over one eye; her signature silk, rose Chinese dress exposing her long feminine legs in matching red high heels, and eight feidao knives sheathed evenly across two, tight, gold leg garters. She was leisurely without her usual white leather jacket, however, her new career obviously didn't require her to go out much.

"So what you want, huh? I very busy." Shenhua said, acting coy.

"Yeah, I'll bet you are." Revy almost died trying to stifle her laughter. "So when did you start selling your snatch for Chang, huh? Ain't good enough to be his top hit-girl anymore?" Revy busted out like a hyena, the happiest Rock had seen her all day.

Shenhua seemed more or less indifferent to Revy's insults, obviously expecting them. "Business slow, slut, but as always, I gladly skin your ass for free. I take protection job to pay rent, okay, so no judging, I'm high-class madame 'round here."

That actually seemed like a good second job for someone like Shenhua, Rock thought. She was more than capable of taking care of the girls, and nobody would think twice about ripping off the place knowing Chang's best assassin might come after them.

"I think the girls are in good hands, Shenhua." Rock praised politely, knowing that would end Revy's cackling.

Shenhua made a gasping sound similar to Jane's from earlier. "Is that dumb-ass?!"

Making her way around the ottoman, Shenhua strolled clear past Revy to get a better look at Rock; her closeness making him immediately uncomfortable.

"Ah! You much sexier now. You come work for me, okay? I pimp your ass good." Shenhua brazenly solicited Rock, drawing little circles on his chest with one hand, as she felt his muscles with another.

"Um, thank you?" Rock laughed anxiously, not knowing the appropriate response.

Revy seethed, clutching her fists. "All right, can it slant-eye! You know why we're here!" Revy was back to business.

Shenhua ended her flirtatious teasing of Rock, and turned to look back at Revy. "Oh yes. That. Big man call this morning with request." She walked back around the ottoman and whistled between two fingers.

At that moment, two of the girls stood up and moved towards Rock, taking gentle hold of his arms to guide him out of the room, giggling as they went; Rock all the while with a confused and frightened look on his face.

"Hey! What's the big fucking idea, Chenglish?!" Revy inflamed, demanding an explanation.

"Relax, whore, they just take his measurements. We retail first, and brothel second." Shenhua snickered, smiling wickedly at the discovery of Revy's squeeze. "Now we get you fitted too."

The third girl arose halfheartedly and moved towards Revy.

"Touch me, bitch, and I'll give you a new hole to get fucked in." Revy threatened, with icy effect.

The girl rolled her eyes, unmoved, and started towards the direction of a changing room on the other side of the store, away from Rock. Revy snorted, and followed reluctantly. She was beginning to have serious doubt for Dutch's judgment of late.

A tedious hour of inappropriate touching by the escorts on Rock's part and disgruntled resistance on Revy's, finally passed and several wardrobe changes later, Rock was looking at a sharply dressed version of himself in the floor length mirror of the glittering three-by-four dressing space. The girls had fitted him for a perfectly tailored black tuxedo and Rock didn't quite know how to feel in it. He had never worn a fitted suit before, let alone a tux. He tried to embody someone else. Someone like Sean Connery, Clark Gable, or Carey Grant, but his unstyled mohawk made him feel out of place in such obscenely expensive attire; obviously stolen goods, just like the girls.

"Hey, dumb-ass! Why you take so long?" Shenhua's voice rang out suddenly from behind Rock's privacy curtain, before being unexpectedly pulled open. Shenhua eyed Rock with curious surprise. "Ah, yes. Very good." She said, leering with approval. In an unforeseen turn, Shenhua stepped into the change-room with Rock, violating his personal space for the second time.

Rock reacted apprehensively, slighting her advance to look back at himself in the mirror. Shenhua closed the distance, regardless, pressing her sensuous, elegantly wrapped body into his side. Steely, skinny fingers snaked along Rock's back to rest atop his far shoulder, while Shenhua's other hand rested on her hip, profiling her long, naked leg in the mirror for Rock's pleasure.

She looked at his eyes in the reflection and spoke, "So… how does it feel?" Shenhua asked softly, instigating two possible answers.

Rock never broke his own gaze in the mirror, not wanting to indulge her. "A little nervous." He responded, guardedly.

"Rightly so. This Brioni. Italian-knit. Only real man wear this suit and get away with it." She followed up, now gently prodding at Rock's masculinity.

She was trying to get him to do something he'd regret, but it wasn't going to work. Rock remained stone-faced, committed to resisting her newfound fascination for him.

"What kind of a man is that?" He asked, verbally jousting with the bewitching femme fatale.

Shenhua pulled herself close into his side, her lap grazing against the back of his palm, as she traced the stitching of his lapels and buttons with her fingertips. "Real man know what woman want even before she does and beat her to punch every time. Real man doesn't try to be anything but best version of himself, because he accepts fact he can never be anyone else."

She was becoming increasingly more articulate as she lectured him. "Most importantly though…" She leaned in very close now, as if to whisper a secret into Rock's ear and he foolishly listened for it. "Real man know how to fuck." Shenhua licked suddenly at the inside of Rock's ear as her hand darted south to grope the involuntary hard-on she'd inspired behind his Italian-cut pleats. Rock batted her hand and stepped away, now disenfranchised with her entirely.

"Of course, pillow-biter wear this suit well too." Shenhua barbed, giggling at Rock's bitter expression as she left his change-room with debauched gratification.

Rock resented everything about where he was at that moment. He resented Dutch for putting him in a position where he couldn't ask questions. He resented Revy for not giving him a chance to explain himself the night before. Most of all, however, he resented himself for still not finding the courage to defend his own honor. He pulled the curtain back angrily, and got undressed. He was done playing games and just wanted to go home.

After securing his new suit in the overnight bag provided for him, Rock put his jeans and boots back on, and readied to pull his henley back over his head when his curtain was swiftly pulled open again for the second time. Rock prepared to curse the relentless Taiwanese invader before being taken aback at the sight of an entirely different personage altogether.

It was the girl from the front door. Rock began to feel a wave of panic wash over him. Something wasn't right here. He looked away, embarrassed by the half-naked escort's sultry, nubile figure. The lady of the evening surveyed his arms and chest with eager seduction in her eyes. He hurried to get his shirt back on and take his leave, but just as he completed working his arm through the last sleeve, the racy jezebel stampeded him, throwing the curtain closed behind her. Rock was overwhelmed, shoved into the wall as the enticing siren pressed her soft, slender frame against his firm, exposed torso. She grabbed at his face, kissing and biting his lips hungrily while her silken palms glided along his abs and nipples. Rock struggled to untangle his arms above his head and force her off of him, but her proximity made it impossible. His only option was to remove the shirt and regain control.

The situation intensified. Ukraine stepped one leg up on the nearby bench and began to grind her sex against Rock's knee-jerk, erection. He groaned with inclination, unable to help himself. Finally freeing his arms, he threw his shirt aside, intent on preserving what little integrity he had left, and yet, was immediately shamed by the frailty of his resolve. Rock allowed her more freedom now than before, his soul finding respite in her uninhibited touch. He hated himself for it, but it just felt so good to feel so wanted by another, even if it wasn't real. So raw, so unashamed. Rock now began to grasp at the immense loneliness that had been following him his whole life. He had preserved his angst till now because he thought it had been keeping him alive, and yet, his heart ached, realizing he had never before been wanted by a woman like this; not a single one, except… Revy.

Rock's hands wrapped in closed surrender around the small of the young escort's back, falling into an unconscious state of arousal as he imagined kissing Revy again. He cupped her cheek with his left hand, encouraging her to open her mouth as he tilted her head to one side. Ukraine gratefully consented his nonverbal request, smiling as she tempted him further. She massaged his tongue with her own, stroking his denim cock with a sympathetic hand. Rock thought to the night before when Revy accosted him in a similar fashion, pulling Ukraine closer as he begrudgingly recapitulated the drunken memory with the anonymous prostitute, imagining she was Revy. The irony was palpable. Rock was now more assured of his suspicions in this moment than in all of the time he'd spent living in Roanapur; that he truly and deeply cared for Revy, and loved her, with all the madness in his soul.

"That's it! I'm fucking done with this bullshit! Rock, we're leaving." Revy called out with alarm from behind the curtain, before inexplicably yanking it open for a third, and final time.

"Revy!" Rock faltered in disgrace, pushing Ukraine off of him to look back at her in shame.

An abhorrent silence befell them as all the air was sucked out of the room. The two stood frozen. Revy looked back at Rock with hollow, disbelieving eyes, saying nothing. There were no words; that which Rock's blatant humiliation could not convey in that moment. The muscles in her face began to strain and tighten, her eyes wincing in tearful hatred as she gritted her teeth with growing severity. In a frightening turn, Revy's right hand reached subconsciously for a cutlass, only to feel an empty holster mocking at her side. Her incredible anger had made her forget her temporarily unarmed state. She lowered her head in frustration and began to chuckle softly at the sardonic twist of events. Her laughter soon grew to maniacal levels as her need to kill felt stronger than she could ever remember before and yet, was ironically incapable of doing anything about it. It was like Rock had told her a year ago, you can't solve everything with a gun. Revy turned and ran, unable to look at Rock a moment longer.

"Revy, wait!" Rock pleaded, hastily grabbing his shirt up off the floor to chase after her, running into several racks of clothing as he attempted to throw it back on.

Rock's fumbles only aided Revy's escape who had already made her way out of the main store room and back down the hallway towards the entrance. Rock readied himself to make up for lost time, but was effectually interrupted by Shenhua's double dealing remarks.

"Come back soon, dumb-ass! And don'tworry about sample, you can pay later." Shenhua jabbed with a satisfied expression, revealing the nefarious plot she'd just hatched against him. She had orchestrated the little rendezvous with her working girl. No doubt petty retribution against Rock for rebuffing her own propositions.

Rock looked back at Shenhua with furious contempt for what she'd done, disgusted he had ever given her the benefit of the doubt. He panicked when he heard the GTO's 389 turn over in the street. Revy was leaving him behind. He sprinted back down the hallway to the front door, which had been left neglectfully swinging ajar due to the arrival of a passing tropical storm. Upon finally reaching the sidewalk outside, Rock was greeted to the dramatic transition of day into dusk. Heavy rain and gale force winds whipped at his face as he looked to where he had parked the Goat. He caught only its hindsight as Revy burnt rubber to peel out past him, heading back towards downtown.

Rock took off as fast as he could after the American-made muscle car, running carelessly down the middle of the road as he called out her name from the rearview mirror. "Revy! Revy, wait! Revy, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He shouted in vain, watching the GTO disappear below the hill line.

Rock ran until he was out of breath before finally giving up. Horns honked, and vehicles drove around him, scoffing and cursing from open windows as they passed him by. This can't be real, he thought, this is a bad dream. He closed his eyes, wishing, hoping, praying to God to wake him from his nightmare, but it was all for nought. God wasn't here, not in this city. Rock struggled to catch his breath, then erupted in agonizing frustration, "Fuck!" He shouted long and loud.

Rock walked back to the sidewalk and tried to think of the all places Revy might realistically go. Not back to the commune, that would be too easy. Praiyachat's was closed so she couldn't get her cutlasses back. Only one other place came to mind, and if Rock knew Revy as well he thought he did, she'd be needing a drink right about now. With that deduction, Rock took off towards the one place Rock would go if he were in Revy's shoes.

It took him the better part of an hour, but eventually Rock was back at the Yellow Flag. He was exhausted. It was nighttime now, and Rock's clothes were soaking wet from the rain. He walked to the front entrance, his earlier hypothesis confirmed as he spotted Lagoon's GTO parked surreptitiously up the street. Revy was here. Rock tried to compose himself, wringing the bottom of his shirt out as best he could before finally pushing the newly stained oak doors open to walk inside.

People, I've been misled

And I've been afraid

I've been hit in the head

And left for dead

I've been abused

And I've been accused

Been refused a piece of bread

It was like any other night at the Yellow Flag. Dishonorable patrons roared in drunken stupors as they cursed or gambled while the tawdry whores of the Sloppy Swing upstairs fazed in and out to solicit their goods and help sell drinks. A brawl waited to break out at any moment just as another was wrapping up. And as always, guns and knives were distributed haphazardly across every table, in continued disregard for Bao's no weapons policy.

But I ain't never

In my life before

Seen so many love affairs

Go wrong as I do today

Rock had to hand it to Bao. Getting this place up and running again after Fabiola destroyed it three months ago had to be record-time even for him. Granted he had front-money from Hotel Moscow, but still… it was like nothing had ever happened. The same saloon-style wooden architecture, low-watt light fixtures with yellow Edison-bulbs, and Bao's signature vintage-American jukebox that transported its listeners to any genre of music in the last forty years. The Love You Save, by Joe Tex was playing in the background. Rock scanned the bar's clientele for Revy. He didn't take long.

I want you to stop, find out what's wrong

Get it right or leave love alone

Because the love you save today

May very well be your own

There she was, her back to the entrance, midway up on the left side of the bar. She was sitting at a pentagonal wooden poker table with four toasted Colombian men surrounding her. They were all of them drinking and telling loud obscene jokes and amusing anecdotes, and Revy was clearly at the focus of all their attention. Rock had a bad feeling about this. He walked forward calmly, trying to appear as understated as possible. As he closed the distance, he noticed she was without her gun leather or gloves, most likely left back in the GTO. She had also let her hair down, and was now completely indistinguishable from every other loose woman or cheap call girl in the sleazy saloon.

Listen to me

I've been pushed around

I've been lost and found

I've been given 'till sundown to get out of town

I've been taken outside, and I've been brutalized

I had to always be the one to smile and apologize

Rock stopped just to the left Revy. She had just finished telling a disgusting sex joke involving a nun, a black guy, and a german shepherd; her new Colombian friends laughing obnoxiously in applause. Rock stood there awkwardly, waiting for her to feel his presence, but was distraught at her apparent indifference towards him. Revy continued to snicker and crack wise as she poured herself another drink.

He intrepidly said her name, "Revy." But they carried on, ignoring him. It was only until Rock said her name a second time that he perturbed a response, "Revy!"

At last, Revy's head angled lethargically upward to meet Rock's pensive stare. Malice and disdain stained her eye sockets like soot. She replied with a smirk, "Hey, Rock. What do you want?" She was drunk.

The Colombians stared back at Rock with the wanton malevolence of a pack of wolves whose territory had just been threatened. Rock wouldn't be so easily intimidated, however, not after everything he'd been through over the last year.

"Come on, Revy. Let's go home." Rock said, unafraid.

"Oh… I don't think I'll be going anywhere with you. Doesn't really feel right." Revy, slurring her words, was already three sheets to the wind.

Spurning his request, Revy followed up her refusal by downing another Bacardi shot. Rock was starting to get angry now. She was purposefully putting herself in danger just to teach him a lesson. He'd crash her party first though.

But I ain't never in my life before

Seen so many love affairs go wrong as I do today

"Revy." Rock attempted civility, one last time.

"Tell you what. Why don't you go pay one of these fuckin' sluts to go home with you. After all, that is the only way you can get a woman to fuck you." Revy disparaged bitterly, pouring herself another shot.

Rock had had enough. He motioned to take hold of Revy, but not before the Colombian in the pastel suit to her left (clearly the leader) interjected from his seat.

"Hey, Tojo. The lady says she isn't interested. So why don't you fuck off before you get hurt." He cautioned, palming the grip of a nickel-plated .45 that lay on the table with threatening intent.

Rock looked at him unshaken and replied, "We're leaving now." He continued on courageously, proceeding to retire Revy for the evening.

Whooohooo

So stop,

Placing his left hand on her right shoulder, Rock's wrist was suddenly snatched and twisted inward by Revy! The pain forced him to lean forward. Revy then copped his neck with her left hand, before slamming his head down hard onto the table; the Colombians promptly guffawing at his humiliation. Rock laid there, recumbent and helpless, staring back at Revy with a mortified expression.

Find out what's wrong

Get it right or leave love alone

Revy leaned in close before licking her lips to speak, "Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, Rock." Sneering her canines with a depraved grin, Revy released Rock from her tyrannical hold for the second time that day.

Because the love you save today

May very well be your own

Rock stepped back several steps, panting furiously as he tried to slow his heart rate, while Revy simply turned back to continue drinking with her new Colombian friends who cackled on like hyenas.

"Yeah! Go back to your tribe! Little bitch-puto!" The youngest Colombian followed up, splitting the sides of his fellow compatriots.

A vinyl changeover in the jukebox nearby marked the end of the tense confrontation, and the upbeat guitar strums of T. Rex's Jeepster breathed new life into the room. It was over, Rock had lost this battle. He shouldn't have been so surprised. The direct approach rarely worked out for him. He needed to regroup; bide some time so he could think up a new strategy. Rock knew better than most that you can't help anyone who doesn't wish to be helped; painful memories of Yukio flashing in his head. He submitted, and moved away from their table to let them prattle on sarcastically as if nothing had happened. Rock approached the bar and pulled up a highchair, causing his neighboring drinkers to move down the line away from him, like he was bad luck or something.

"Hey, Rock." Bao greeted him, drying a glass with his washcloth. He looked at Rock with consideration, having watched the entire ordeal from the moment he walked in. "Shame to see you lovebirds having a spat. I thought it was strange having you both show up separately on different nights. Glad you're here, though, I'm a little worried about Revy. Never seen her without her guns before."

Rock, not looking up from the bar, asserted with a dark and serious tone. "Bao," Pausing to get the gook's attention. "Shut up, and pour me a drink."

Bao, dejected, said nothing in response, having heard and seen it all before. He placed a fresh glass on the freshly lacquered wood in front of Rock and filled it to the brim with Bacardi Black, rum being the only spirit Rock took anymore, thanks to Revy. Rock raised the glass to his lips, eyeing Revy's reflection in the bar's mirror before taking a big gulp. He needed to be careful, though, so as not to hinder the sound sense of judgment to which he credited so much of his success as a pirate. Rock would sit there all night if he had to, waiting patiently for his chance.

And so it went, for the rest of the evening Revy was increasingly cavalier; merry, moody, reckless, unpredictable. She camouflaged her depressions and derangements with masquerades of extreme generosity, buying her Cartel-friend's drinks with the very same money she'd won from their games of Texas hold 'em. But even as she jested or allowed the latin pig next to her to hang an unwelcome arm around her shoulder, Revy would look over at Rock's reflection from time-to-time with melancholy eyes, as if the two were meshed in intimate communication. Each time their eyes met, Revy's gaze would anguish Rock, and he grew more and more taciturn as her telepathic wires moated, and dungeoned him. It was as if she were asking, Doesn't this mean anything to you? Don't you care? Her excessive drinking, spoke for itself.

When she looked away, Rock surveyed the four Colombian men with scrupulous detail. He noted their palaver, getting each inflection, reading every gesture and tick, as if he wanted to compose a biography of the men or prepare an impersonation, when in reality he was checking their defenses for weak spots. From what he could gather, only the leader was carrying a gun while the others seemed to be no more than petty thugs and country rubes, culled from the hillsides of their homeland.

Tom Waits' Georgia Lee, was starting to wrap up and not a moment too soon, as it's beautiful, yet haunting melody cast a foreboding premonition of things to pass should Rock abandon his partner again. Without her cutlasses, Revy had no real means of defending herself outside of mortal combat. Four against one, combine that with how much she'd already had to drink, and Rock didn't like those odds.

Rock's focus was interrupted by the arrival of an obnoxious young cugine of the Cosa Nostra, rudely pulling up a chair next to him.

"I like your taste in women, Japo!" He said blithely, eyeing Revy from over his shoulder. "She's a hot piece, no doubt about it."

Rock didn't respond, maintaining an austere stare forward, never breaking his gaze of Revy and the Colombians in the bar's reflection. The tracksuit guido foolishly carried on.

"So Japanese, what do you think I could get if I gave that Chinky-bitch a few Benjamin's, huh?" He gagged, patting Rock on the back.

Bad move. Rock finally shifted his intense gaze to look back at the kid. Rotating in his seat to face him. Rock suddenly took a swift and crushing grip on the young Italiano's testicles, making him yawp in agony.

"What do I get for giving you back your balls you wop-cocksucker?" Rock returned with an unnerved inflection. His voice was low and villainous, briefly demonstrating his capacity for cruelty.

"Oomph! Hey man… take it easy, I was just kiddin'. Oh God!" The naive troublemaker stifled, silenced by the excruciating pain in his groin.

Rock finally let him go, watching the young punk scurry away whilst cradling his crotch. He turned back to face the bar, picking up his drink to take another sip. As he raised the glass to his mouth, Rock's gaze shifted left to eye his overtly inquisitive neighbor sitting two seats down the way. The bearded Russian, smartly returned to his own drink upon being discovered, and Rock took another swig. Rock's temperamental new attitude was soon abandoned, however, with the arrival of a sexy and pulsing new tune.

"Oh yes! Yes! This is my shit!" Revy squealed with girlish delight, springing to her feet. She held either side of the table to kick off her combat boots, and then relaxed her head and shoulders. Eyes closed, and gently rolling her head from side to side, Revy began to move her body slowly, swaying her hips to the beat of Smith's famous cover of Baby It's You. Now Rock had a really bad feeling about this.

It's not the way you smile, that touched my heart

It's not the way you kissed, that tears me apart

In a startling turn, Revy climbed up onto the table like a cat, inspiring the loudest uproar of horny drunkards Rock had ever heard in his time at the Yellow Flag.

Many, many, many nights go by

I sit alone at home and cry over you

What can I do?

Revy put herself on full display for all to see. She bit at her lower lip, cutely looking back over her tight, round buttocks, to her gaping spectators. She then sensuously arched her back as the bluesy-rock ballad reached for it's first chorus' climax, whipping her long silky plum hair from side-to-side, in tandem with the music.

Don't want nobody, nobody

'Cause, baby, it's you, baby, it's you

Revy rocked her body backward onto her knees and began seductively running her hands along her healthy, curvaceous figure, playfully licking and biting at her fingers in a dangerously teasing manner. She was really stirring things up now, the impassioned crowd goading her on.

Is it true what they say about you?

They say you'll never, ever, never be true

She moved her hands upward along her neck then downward along her smooth stomach and creamy thighs. Rock was thunderstruck, gripping the edges of the bar behind him as she began masterfully gyrating her hips in a way that would put most seasoned strippers to shame. Revy was whipping up the crowd into a sex-crazed frenzy! The situation reminded Rock to a scene he remembered in The Accused with Jodi Foster, making him suddenly feel sick to his stomach.

It doesn't matter what they say

I know I'm gonna love you any old way

What can I do?

What 'bout you?

Revy swiped a cigarette from the open mouth of one of her drooling Colombian admirers. She leapt to her bare feet atop their table and rocked her hair back and forth with even more explosive rhythm than before. She then span her hair wildly around like a metal head, before stopping promptly at the climax of the song's second chorus.

Don't want nobody, nobody

Baby, it's you, baby, it's you

She cooly took a drag of the cigarette, her head now only bobbing gently to the beat and she smiled, forgetting about her desperate onlookers as she disappeared entirely into the music. The crowd roared and whistled as Rock looked on demoralized, feeling increasingly more hopeless in the situation. Things took a dramatic turn, however, as the song signaled to climb towards it's third and final climax and Revy turned to take a daunting leap towards the tavern's center. She stood up and turned to face Rock at the bar, who was standing at it's center.

Baby!

To rock's amazement, Revy began to walk towards him! She strutted forward, swinging her hips roundly in musically timed steps as she lulled Rock into stupid tranquility and miscalculation with her hypnotic amber eyes. It was all a game to her. Upon reaching him, she pushed Rock forcefully back into his chair, then stepped up on the bar's footrest to mount him, her long feminine legs straddling either side of his waist. Rock looked up wistfully at Revy, her own gaze now blinded by lust and hard alcohol. Rock hated himself for it, but even after everything she'd put him through that day, Rock was still beholden in his affections to her.

He held her tiny waist between both hands for support, so Revy might finish her dance, and she didn't disappoint. Revy began to grind roughly against Rock's swelling cock with sensual momentum. He reveled in the feel of her body against his again, the smell of her hair, the taste of the sweat from her collarbone. Revy flicked her hair back behind her head then arched her neck to pull Rock's face between her two heaving breasts. He thought he might explode right then and there.

It doesn't matter what they say

I know I'm gonna love any old way

What can I do? What 'bout you?

Don't want nobody, nobody

The crowd cheered them on, shouting hysterically in tongues, like a pentecostal church. Revy dipped backwards slowly, one hand resting on Rock's face, the other stroking her breast as she continued to ride Rock to his peak. She fell only as far as Rock's hold on her midriff (and his own sanity) would allow, before Revy nimbly rocked back forward at the zenith of the songs epic conclusion.

Baby, it's you, baby, it's you

The Yellow Flag vibrated with uproarious applause, as if it had just lain witness to the Goddamn show of the century. Rock and Revy held each other tightly, panting heavily as they peered deep into each other's eyes. The crowd shouted for an encore, and Revy smiled wickedly in response. She lifted herself up off of Rock to turn and face her adoring fans. At that moment, Revy took hold of the bottom of her sports bra and yanked it shamelessly upwards with both hands, flashing the rabble for a few immortal seconds. The bars patrons went nuts, smashing their drinks on the floor or firing their guns dangerously into the second floor above them. Revy looked back at Rock with a sly grin who was now both livid, and horrified by the little stunt. He had finally had enough. He shot forward, taking a firm grip on Revy's arm and whipping her around to face him.

Don't leave me alone

Come on home

Baby, it's you, baby, it's you

Rock vindicated her harshly over the sound of music and gunfire. "Revy, Goddammit! Why did you do that!? Are you trying to get yourself fucking killed!?" He shouted, shaking her roughly against him.

Rock's dour treatment of her shook something loose in Revy that night, making it abundantly clear to her in that moment that he did in fact care for her, perhaps even more than that. She suddenly felt very sorry for what she had done.

She looked up at Rock with remorseful eyes, doing her best to respond. "I… I don't know, Rock. I… I just wanted to hurt you, that's all." She stammered, her face frantically alternating between both joy and sadness in being reunited with him again. The adrenaline was making her lightheaded, not having had anything to eat since Jane's.

You know I need your lovin'

You know I love you

Baby, it's you

Baby, it's you

Rock looked back at her, now guilt-ridden as well. "Come on. I'm getting you out of here." He said, as he wrapped his arms around her. He held Revy close as he navigated them towards the front entrance through the raving, inebriated horde of whores and criminals. Revy had incited a riot. The mob had now proceeded to steal and fight each other for their drugs or money or just out of sheer rambunctiousness. Flat, hard packing sounds were heard over the hysterical shouting.

Revy dolefully rested her head on Rock's shoulder as they made their way out. She looked up in awe of his stunning and heroic carriage, watching him zealously protect her with his life as he shoved and elbowed hardened criminals aside to make their way through. At the same time, though, he made her feel more and more powerless in her feelings for him.

"Rock?" She murmured, half awake.

They paused to let a cat-fighting pair of prostitutes yank each other's hair across their path, "What?" He replied.

She pulled him close, speaking softly as she looked up at him, "You're the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

Rock stopped to peer into Revy's heart-wrenching expression. She was beside herself, her eyes already shrink wrapped in tears. She had always been the strong one in their relationship. Revy, always flying in for the rescue whenever Rock got himself into trouble and needed saving, which was entirely too often. But now the tables had turned, and it was Rock who needed to be strong for her now.

He placed a supporting hand on her soft cheek, "You'll get over it." He rejoined her, his tone confident and unwavering; her rock.

Revy returned her head to the safe crook of Rock's neck, which was unintentionally becoming her favorite spot of late.

Rock was almost to the door, just a few more yards, when suddenly a closed fist struck him square in the stomach, knocking the wind clean out. Revy was then ripped from his arms as another fist clocked him hard across the face, sending him careening backwards to the floor. Rock landed on his stomach, blood dripping from his nose. When he turned to look back up at his attackers, the same suited-Colombian from earlier was standing over him.

"Manolo! Bring the car around! We'll meet you out back!" The leader ordered from over his shoulder.

The youngest Cartel obeyed, pushing himself past a brawl to got out the front way.

Rock wheezed for air, trying to push himself back onto his feet when his head was shoved forcibly back down by the Cartel's snakeskin boot.

"Don't even think about it, you little Coño." The Lieutenant said, rasping his leather heel into Rock's cheekbone. "If I see you move even an inch from this spot, I'll fillet that pretty little puta's faceright after I've fucked her bloody."

Rock went wide-eyed, and then he seethed with murderous intent, furiously gritting his teeth before he spat up with disgust at the vile Colombian, "If you touch her, I mean to beat you to death, and drink your blood from a boot!"

The Lieutenant bellowed loudly, stepping off of Rock to move around him. "You got balls, kid, I'll give you that, but do yourself and her a favor, and stay down!" On that exclamation, the Colombian kicked Rock hard in his gut with the steel toe of his boot, making him choke out in incredible pain and frustration.

The leader turned back to his two remaining soldiers who now both shared an unbreakable hold on Revy, standing either side of her. She was utterly incoherent, her eyes rocking back and forth from what looked like the early stages of alcohol poisoning, or worse; she wouldn't even be able to put up a fight. Rock struggled to suck air back into his lungs as he watched the Colombian scum steer her towards the bar's rear entrance. Revy's gaze shifted back to share one last, lingering look of desperation with Rock, before disappearing behind the doorway.

At that moment, something snapped deep down inside of Rock as a new vinyl record changed over, and as the dark industrial tones of an electric guitar strummed along, wires in Rock's brain began to cross, and then solemnly rose to his feet.

I'm goin' out west

Where the wind blows tall

'Cause Tony Franciosa

Used to date my ma

They got some money out there

They're giving it away

I'm gonna do what I want

And I'm gonna get paid

Do what I want

And I'm gonna get paid

It was as if someone had turned off a light inside of Rock; his auto-senses heightened to some primal level of instinct he'd never felt before. He walked back to the bar, detached from the mayhem around him, eyeing his reflection in the bar's mirror with a remote and listless fatigue. Someone else was staring back at him, he thought. It was as if his soul had been exercised, allowing this new, more fiendish visitant to take control; someone or something far baser than himself. Rock felt like he was going on a journey outside of himself, looking down on his body powerlessly from above.

Little brown sausages

Lying in the sand

I ain't no extra, baby

I'm a leading man

Well my parole officer

Would be proud of me

With my Olds '88

And the Devil on a leash

My Olds '88

And the Devil on a leash

His gait felt heavier and more practiced than before. His expression was spookily similar to the likes he'd once seen in Roberta, Balalaika, Ginji… Revy. It was clear to Rock now, that he was staring back into the eyes of a rabid dog; eyes black, starving, irrational… dangerous. Yes, under and behind and inside every time Rock was bullied on the playgrounds as a child, or a girlfriend left him for some fucking douche bag, or was kicked in the ass by his corporate superiors as a young professional; every time Rock's life was taken for granted, something horrible had been growing, and tonight, he had finally been pushed too far.

I know karate, voodoo too

I'm gonna make myself available to you

I don't need no make up

I got real scars

I got hair on my chest

I look good without a shirt

Without blinking, Rock chugged what was left of his drink from earlier then turned to make his out the back entrance. The odds were stacked against him, Rock knew that, but he didn't care.

Well I don't lose my composure

In a high speed chase

Well my friends think I'm ugly

I got a masculine face

I got some dragstrip courage

I can really drive a bed

I'm gonna change my name to Hannibal

Or maybe just Rex

Change my name to Hannibal

Or maybe just Rex

"Rock!" Bao, foolishly stepping into Rock's path. "I'm holding you responsible for Revy destroying my bar this time!"

I know karate, Voodoo too

I'm gonna make myself available to you

I don't need no make up

I got real scars

I got hair on my chest

I look good without a shirt

The Vietnamese bartender was grimly shut down by the disturbing, and unfamiliar presence of a Lagoon doppelgänger in his midst. He couldn't place it, but something gave Bao the grave impression that this Rock wanted to harm him. He recoiled cowardly into the corner, not remembering feeling so afraid since his last visit from the Maid. He continued hugging his back to the wall, watching Rock turn left down the corridor leading to the back entrance, to a door that read NO EXIT above.

I'm gonna drive all night

Take some speed

I'm gonna wait for the Sun

To shine down on me

I cut a hole in my roof

The shape of a heart

And I'm goin' out west

Where they'll appreciate me

Goin' out west

Goin' out west

Outside in the alley behind the Yellow Flag, the Cartel stood impatiently for their youngest soldier to arrive in the getaway car. The night was black, and devouring, and the rain still hadn't let up, but was now instead joined by bright flashes of fierce lightning and grating thunder.

Revy stirred awake as the cold rain sobered her slightly to the world around her. She noted whom she was with… and was without. Rock, nowhere to be seen, Revy's survival instincts immediately kicked in. She began to wretch in the arms of her captors who promptly released her upon realizing her gross intonation. She dropped to her hands and knees, and heaved, transporting her sicknesses to the wet asphalt beneath her, and saving herself from blacking out again.

"Aw chica, now why would you go and do a thing like that, huh?" The leader mocked with sinister allusion, turning to look down at her. "Now you gonna remember everything."

Revy spat what remained of the acidy purge that had come burning it's way up from her stomach. The smell of rum and bile nauseated her. At the same time, though, it roused her wits back to life. Something wasn't right, Revy thought. She knew her tolerance for drinking; knew how much was too much for her. She shouldn't be feeling this awful. Revy looked down into her own insides now staring back up at her from the street; her fears confirmed when she eyed the remnants of several broken, red-and-white seconals adrift in her vomit.

Wiping her mouth clean with the back of her hand, Revy cursed with trembling ire, "You fucks…" They'd drugged her. She could only wonder how much of the barbiturate had made it's way into her blood stream. By now, it was anyone's guess.

"Don't feel too bad, Revy. Sweet little culo like yours gonna fetch me a kind price on the black market. 'Course, we're all gonna need to sample the goods first, right amigos!" The leader snickered through a detestable grin.

Revy cringed as her captors chuckled roundly above. They were going to rape her, then sell her into sex-trafficking. She knew how this sort of thing worked. They'd shoot her up with heroine first and turn her into a junkie, and that would be the end of the Great Revy.

She needed to focus. She couldn't kill them, not in her condition. Her vision was skewed, and her body felt heavy, but she could run for it given the right opportunity. She wouldn't get far barefoot, but she could make it back to the Goat, if she tried. She had to try.

A clay coral '58 Impala turned right onto the alley where they waited, its headlights beaming brightly as it encroached ever forward. The old Chevy pulled up along side them and the youngest Cartel shut off the engine before stepping out into the rain.

"What took you so fuckin' long!" The Lieutenant snapped.

Manolo popped the collar of his plaid shirt up and walked around the hood of the car. "Lo siento, Jefe." He replied timidly.

The leader grumbled, "Vayamos."

The goon to Revy's left reached back down to take hold of her arm again, but she jerked it away, defiant to the end.

He growled in anger, "Levántese, you vaca gorda!" The dumb brute ordered as he stupidly repossessed her same arm with both hands.

Now was her chance. Revy planted her right heel hard into the ground, and with all her might, sharply palmed the bottom of her hand up into the Colombian's nose, breaking it with ease. He howled in pain, releasing Revy to retreat and nurse his bloody injury. In a panic, goon number two hastily seized Revy from behind, wrapping his arms tightly around her upper body. Revy then shifted her weight, and rocked forward to loosen his grasp, before lancing her elbow into his gut. He spat up, wide-eyed, unable to breath. Revy spun right to throw him off balance. He tripped sideways and Revy rocketed from the human stockade as he fell to the ground.

Manolo froze up. "Mierda!" He shouted in español.

Revy only got a short distance, however, when the top of her scalp was quickly snatched and yanked backwards; her legs running out from underneath her as a result. She cried out with terrible urgency as she hit the ground. Her hands reflexively reached back to pull against her assailant's grip to lessen the pain. Gritting her teeth, she peeled open her wincing eyes to look back up at the snarling Lieutenant.

"Pinche idiotas!" The leader shouted back at his soldiers. He paused, waiting until he had all of their attention before proceeding. "If you want to tame a horse, you first have to break her!"

Revy let out a blood-curdling scream as the Cartel savagely dragged her by the hair back towards the front of the Impala. The pain was almost unbearable. Revy tried not to think of the words searing or flesh. When they arrived, Revy thought her torture had ended, but then wailed again in torment as she was lifted up by her hair with one hand, displayed in an arrogant show of strength by their leader.

"Now let me show you how it's done!" The Lieutenant announced vehemently, like he were about to deliver a sermon. He slung Revy sideways, slamming her onto the hood of their car. She tried to roll away, but the Cartel took hold of her ankles and pulled himself between her legs. They grappled for a several moments, before Revy finally got one in.

"Fuck you!" She shrieked in self-defense, taking a clawing swipe to the Colombian's face.

The Lieutenant delayed for just a moment, touching the cheek where Revy had drawn blood. He rubbed his fingers together letting the rain wash the red away, then looked back down at Revy with omnipotent animus. With one hand, he took a sudden and suffocating grip on her throat, then with the other, reached into his sport coat to unholster his .45. Without a moment's hesitation, he cracked the barrel hard across her temple, making her go limp in his clutches.

Revy, delirious from the blow, whispered on repetition, "I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you." Only half-conscious, she continued to resist.

The Lieutenant flipped Revy over onto her stomach, and then vised her forearms behind her back with an iron grip. He then forced his disgusting arousal against her, letting her feel every pathetic inch of him.

This can't be happening, not again, not again, Revy bartered with herself, praying for a miracle.

"You know, Revy! I think I change my mind. After I'm done with you, I'm gonna sell your ass cheap." He laughed despicably. His comrades joined in, looking on with vengeful gratification of her plight.

Revy raised her head up one last time in protest, "I'll fucking kill you!" She bellowed with tearful scorn, before her face was forced back to the hood.

"Tell me Revy…" The Lieutenant paused, then moved his hand off her head to show her something in his hand. "You ever been fucked by a knife?" Engaging the release, a curved dagger flipped out of the black hilt to Revy's horror.

"Fuck you!" She screamed again, succumbing to her fear as the Lieutenant lifted the switch from her sight.

He hovered the blade over her backside, then thrusted the razor edge underneath her firehose belt, slicing in two with ease. Just as he was about to yank her shorts down, a loud yelping noise was heard across the way from his fellow countrymen.

The leader looked over curiously to Manolo, who seemed to be at the center of all the commotion, his other soldiers shrinking away from him in unease.

"Manolo! ¿Qué onda? What's wrong?" He asked in both languages.

Revy opened her eyes to see the young Cartel's strange expression. His eyeballs were large and buggy. His face and neck muscles taut all the way through and he stifled his breath as if he needed to speak, but couldn't for some reason. Suddenly, he collapsed to his knees cradling his groin. At that moment, a looming figure appeared behind him from out of the darkness.

Revy couldn't believe it. "Rock!" She heralded his name with weeping joy, not remembering feeling so grateful to see anyone in her whole life.

"You!" The Lieutenant shouted in annoyance.

Rock stepped forward into the illumination of a lighting strike, his legs wide, his fists clenched. He shoved the prostrated Cartel aside with his cowboy boot, before taking more daunting steps forward.

"Jefe! He kicked him right in the cajones!" Goon number one informed.

"Stupidos! Don't just stand there! Kill him!" The leader ordered, continuing to hold Revy down.

Goon number two came at him first, launching himself to land a devastating right cross to Rock's face. Rock remained still, allowing the thug to close the distance before stepping off his right foot to evade. Rock countered, leaving his right foot out to catch number two's stride, tripping him. He was sent careening forward, smashing his face against the Yellow Flag's exterior.

Rock turned to face Goon number one. He was more cautious than his partner, taking a traditional boxing stance against Rock. Rock did the same, raising his right fist back behind his left. He stalked forward, his tenacity intimidating the adult Colombian, who easily had a good ten years and six inches on Rock. Number one took his chance with a jab, and then another, and another; Rock slipping away each time like he was Goddamn Sugar Ray Leonard!

Rock deduced it. Number one was protecting himself; his left fist guarding a broken nose Revy must've given him. Rock slid past another jab, this time stepping off his left foot to move right, giving him a fighting chance at fighting dirty. Rock threw a heavy right cross, landing it directly into number one's left fist, subsequently causing him to bash his own, ruined snout. He yowled in pain, retreating a few steps back to shield his face with both hands. Rock didn't miss his chance. He picked up speed, then struck the bottom of his boot hard against number one's center of gravity, causing to him fly backwards onto his back.

It was easier than Rock thought it would be. Then again, they were all drunk, and fighting injured, so he couldn't give himself too much credit. Rock turned his icy gaze on the Lieutenant, still standing with Revy in hand. The leader fumed with piqued conniption for his pride. Rock looked on, indomitable, fearless; his stoic poise rivaled only by his air of biblical wrath. He stepped forward.

The Lieutenant panicked, quickly running his arm around Revy's neck to lift her back to her feet, extorting a high-pitch cry from her now frayed vocal cords. "I'll kill her!" He threatened, bringing the knife to her throat.

Rock came to a screeching halt and gritted his teeth in contempt, enraged by the Cartel's loathsome act of cowardice. He really was the scum of the Earth, but Rock could proceed no further. The ball was in his court now, and Rock could only stand there, and wait for his next move.

"I told you what would happen, Tojo." The Cartel said, alluding to his earlier threat in the bar.

He moved the knife upwards, running the tapered edge menacingly across Revy's face.

Revy looked on with woeful dread to Rock, before suddenly exclaiming in terror, "Rock! Look out!"

"Puta madre!" Manolo cried out from behind Rock, brandishing a lead pipe.

Rock spun around to shield himself, but was too late. Manolo jabbed the butt-end of his false club hard into Rock's stomach, following with a loud whack! upside his chin. The momentum threw Rock's weight around. Manolo then flung the pipe over Rock's head with both hands, and pulled it tightly across his chest, trapping his arms. Rock wrestled for freedom, too distracted to notice his next attacker racing towards him from the front.

Goon number two, wielding a bicycle chain he'd found, held it dangerously limp to one side as he prepared to swing overhand at Rock. Rock tried to break free, but number two completed his whipping motion just as Manolo kicked Rock forward to move away to safety. A puff of pink mist coughed into the rain and the iron whip sliced Rock's chest open in a bleeding diagonal cut. Rock jarred out in pain of his gaping wound, stumbling to the right.

"Rock!" Revy cried out his name again, struggling against the Lieutenant who was now forcing her to watch.

Rock was struck to the ground by goon number two, who cracked the back of Rock's legs out with a rotting two-by-four he had also procured. Rock collapsed to his knees and palms, before all three Cartel soldiers began beating him mercilessly with their scavenged weapons. Rock smartly guarded his head and neck under his arms, forcing the thugs to crack, and pound, and slash at his back. It took every ounce of strength Rock had to keep from blacking out. By the time they were done, however, Rock was laying flat on the asphalt, motionless. Manolo prepared to land the final blow, but was halted suddenly by his Lieutenant.

"Manolo! Bring him over! I want him to see her face when he dies!" Their leader hideously declared.

The goons obeyed, each picking up one of Rock's arms to drag him to his final resting place.

Revy couldn't hear anything; couldn't talk, couldn't move, couldn't think. She was shellshocked; traumatized by the savagery and barbarism she'd just witnessed Rock endure, and her complete and utter inability to protect him from it. This was all her fault, she thought. She was responsible for Rock's suffering. She could've prevented it. If she had just taken the time to talk with Rock about what happened the night before, all of this could have been avoided, but she didn't. Revy felt hot tears run down her face as Rock was delivered to her feet. His head hung forward, unconscious, infirm of his many injuries.

"Wake him up!" The Lieutenant barked.

A goon gripped the tuff of his mohawk and shook hard, promptly releasing upon Rock's eyes fluttering awake, trying to discern up from down. His face and body were in ruin. Blood trickled down Rock's nose and skull and the many lacerations along his chest and back; his tattered white shirt, now stained red. Revy looked on Rock as a Christian might the Passion; his arms bound to the open, head languishing to one side. Rock looked up at Revy with penitent eyes, guilt-stricken in his defeated attempt to rescue her.

Little did he know, however, that Revy reciprocated those same feelings of guilt; she was supposed to protect him as well, just as she always promised herself she would. His failure mirrored her own.

"Let's not waste the moment, chica." Their leader whispered through a forked tongue into Revy's ear.

Revy was then pushed back onto the hood by her throat, but she didn't fight back, not this time. Even as the Lieutenant repositioned himself between her legs, Revy only continued to stare on at Rock, never breaking their gaze.

"Move back, I'm going to hit a real homer on this one." Manolo contested, moving in front of Rock with lead pipe in hand; ready to prove himself to his comrades, at long last.

The goons amusingly obliged, releasing their grip of Rock's arms to fall at his sides. This was it, this was the end.

"Rock! Rock, look at me! Okay! Just keep looking at me! Okay!" Revy begged, not wanting Rock to feel alone in his final moments; it was all she could do.

Manolo readied the pipe with both hands, while the Lieutenant undid his trousers.

"Revy…" Rock muttered under labored breath. "I'm sorry."

Revy's heart was about to burst inside her chest. "Rock… I… I love…"

"Do it!" The Lieutenant ordered.

"No!" Revy cried out.

Manolo swung hard.

Krack!

"Arghh!" Number two exclaimed in agony as he fell to the ground.

Revy couldn't believe it! At the last possible second, Rock fell right, allowing Manolo's swing to sail clean past his head and snap the goon's fibula in two. He had been playing possum the whole time! With lighting reaction-time, Rock raised his left leg and thrusted the Cuban heel of his Ariat hard into goon number one's groin, causing him to lurch to his knees. Manolo sought to remedy his error as the situation unraveled, raising the lead pipe high over his head to exact a finishing downward blow. Rock, in the nick of time, pushed off his right foot and shot upward, intercepting the blunt weapon with both hands before cracking his skull hard into Manolo's nose, releasing the pipe to his own clutches.

"Joder!" The Lieutenant panicked, reaching for his .45 only to palm an empty holster. "Qué?!"

Revy, smiling when he turned to look down at her, had taken advantage of the mayhem to pilfer his sidearm; pointing it directly at his crotch.

"Adios, fucker." She revenged, then squeezed the trigger.

The shot rang out, and the Lieutenant's dick and balls exploded in a gory spectacle of flesh and blood.

The rain seemed never-ending and neither was Bao's jukebox, still time traveling back inside the Yellow Flag, producing the faintest inklings of an American classic from 1972.

Just a perfect day

Drink sangria in the park

And then later, when it gets dark

We go home

The Lieutenant let out a gut-wrenching scream, releasing his hold on Revy's neck to fall backwards. She sat up, and watched the Lieutenant with a benumbed satisfaction as he wailed and whimpered like a woman; flopping on the ground in horror of his newly deformed body.

As Revy wiped the blood from her face and neck, Rock exacted violent retribution against their assailants; crippling them all to the ground with the lead pipe he'd relinquished from the youngest Cartel. Revy got up, and walked to goon number two, still fostering his broken leg.

Just a perfect day

Feed animals in the zoo

Then later a movie, too

And then home

"Little pig, little pig, let me come in…" She menaced coldly under her breath; the nickel of the .45 in her hand gleaming in a flash of lighting. Revy had disappeared; Revenge was her name, this night.

"Huh!" The goon queried, all of the sudden feeling a morose sense of doom wash over him.

Finding her sight-picture "Not by the hair on your chinny-chin-chin? Well, then I'll huff…" She said and fired once into his kneecap.

The goon let out a similar scream to his captain's as he shifted his attention to his new wound.

"And I'll puff…" She followed again, squeezing another round into his groin. "and I'll blow your brains out." She finished, putting a bullet right between the squealing pig's eyes, and ending her nursery rhyme from hell.

Oh, it's such a perfect day

I'm glad I spent it with you

Oh, such a perfect day

You just keep me hanging on

You just keep me hanging on

Revy's infamous Whitman Fever had taken over, and she executed the second goon and Manolo with two precisely aimed shots to their dicks and heads, oinking as she went; disappearing into the pure, hateful, bloodthirsty joy of the slaughter. The slide of the .45 locked back upon firing the last round, and Revy turned her head back to the anguishing Lieutenant, whom she had saved specially for last. She was shocked when she saw Rock bearing down on her would-be rapist with all the rancor and fury the hatred of one man could contain.

Just a perfect day

Problems all left alone

Weekenders on our own

It's such fun

"No! You are el Diablo! Demonios! Both of you! Oh Por favor! Dios! Ayúdeme, por favor!" The Cartel-scum prayed for his life as he dragged himself backwards in vain, his loins trailing a steady river of blood in his wake.

Just a perfect day

You made me forget myself

I thought I was someone else

Someone good

"God?" Rock retorted, his voice sounding like an entirely different person altogether. "You think God's gonna save you?" With that, Rock jabbed his boot savagely into the Lieutenant's butchered manhood, making him belt an ear-shattering scream. Rock continued, "Look around… God isn't here for anyone, but you were right about one thing, Jefe." Resting his arm on his knee to lean forward, Rock let the Cartel see his eyes before finishing, "I am the Devil, and I am here to do the Devil's work."

Oh, it's such a perfect day

I'm glad I spent it with you

Oh, such a perfect day

You just keep me hanging on

You just keep me hanging on

With his left hand Rock took a strangling grip of the Lieutenant's throat, and with the other, raised the lead pipe high over his head. He struck the Colombian in the face as hard as he could. He hit him again, and again, and again, until finally Rock tossed the weapon away to finish it with his fists, proceeding to beat the man to death. The crunching sound of cartilage, and bone, and sinew gave way as Rock felt the Colombian's face stove in, even still, he continued on hitting him. Rock imagined the faces of all the people who had ever wronged him; Chang, Takenaka, Kageyama, that sadist Chaka, and by the end, strangely enough, his own Father. Rock soon realized he was simply pounding wet chunks of meat into the pavement and stopped. He rocked backwards onto his feet, his blood boiling, his ears ringing, his lungs heaving. He peered up into the raging storm above in a drunken bloodlust, trying to breathe the fire out of his lungs, and if there was a God, he looked proudly on Rock that night, who had finally exacted a God-like revenge.

You're going to reap just what you sow

You're going to reap just what you sow

You're going to reap just what you sow

You're going to reap just what you sow

Rock managed to slow his heart back down, and when the rabid glaze in his eyes disappeared, he turned to look back at Revy, who had done nothing but stand and watch his descent into enmity and madness. She said nothing, her mouth open, eyes wide in disbelief. She looked down at the horribly mangled corpse of her attacker. His face unrecognizable, his brains sprawled out along the asphalt. It was fucking beautiful. Revy couldn't have done a better job herself. To her own sick amazement, she achieved equal, if not greater satisfaction watching Rock do him in. She looked back up at Rock to his blank expression, breathing heavily through his nose, his face and clothes soaked in blood. He looked lethal, on the verge of frenzy.

Rock took a domineering step towards her, and Revy felt herself recoil in response. She couldn't help it. It's not that she was afraid of him. She just didn't know what to feel after what she had just witnessed; overpowered by the surge of emotions he was eliciting from her in that moment. His gaze was so powerful, masculine, virile… beastly. Rock looked on at Revy to her long curvaceous figure. She was so tragically beautiful, so unabashedly feminine standing barefoot in the rain, holding her sides for protection. Rock surprised Revy when he turned to walk back towards the rear entrance of the Yellow Flag. He leaned over at the door to pick something up, then returned carrying Revy's boots. He had gone back for them…

Revy felt her knees go week as Rock quietly and confidently approached her, then getting on one knee to help slip them back on her feet. Revy placed her hands on either side of his broad shoulders for support, and he gently lifted one foot in at a time. Revy, who had been freezing up to that point, now felt warm all over for some reason. She felt the need to run her fingers through his hair. To pull him close.

"Rock…" She cooed, overcome by his potent, uncompromising, new nature.

He said nothing in response, then rose to meet her gaze again, their faces just inches apart as they peered intensely into each other's eyes, the rain having rinsed the blood from their faces.

"It's you, Revy, it's always been you." Rock stated enigmatically.

At that moment, the adrenaline, in combination of his own grievous injuries caused Rock's eyes to roll back behind his head and his knees gave out; he had stood up too quickly.

"Rock!" Revy shouted, overwrought with emotion. She wrapped her hands around his back as he collapsed forward into her arms, breaking his fall.

His weight caused her to shift right as she gently guided Rock back to the Earth, cradling his head lovingly against her breast.

"Rock! Rock, wake up, you pussy! Goddammit! Rock, don't! Don't do this to me! Not now. Rock! Rock!" Revy pleaded mournfully, feeling him disappearing in her arms.

Rock struggled to stay awake, not wanting to leave Revy in such a helpless state of distress. The rain seemed to act like camouflage. He couldn't tell. Was Revy crying? He looked up with ardent devotion in his eyes for her, making her a silent promise he would return, and with that, his eyelids closed, and faded away completely; Revy holding him close all the while.

Sirens. Wipers skimming water off a windshield. Rain falling on rooftops. These were the sounds that roused Rock back to the land of the living, and regain his consciousness. He felt himself slouching in the passenger's seat of a car, his head resting to one side. When he opened his eyes, he realized he was back in the GTO, with Revy at the wheel. Somehow, she'd managed to get them both to safety. Rock said nothing, not wanting to alarm her. Her hair and clothes were still soaked. Her stunning profile illuminated off and on by the passing of cars and police cruisers whizzing by. Rock looked at her as if in a trance, mesmerized by her unguarded loveliness.

Revy began to feel Rock's gaze on her, and then looked over at him with quiet relief.

"Revy." He managed her name only once, before being stifled by an immediate pain response in his side.

"Don't talk. You might have some broken ribs." Revy instructed. Her demeanor was calm, cool, and collected. She was confident, and back in control; her old self again, and yet, at the same time, somehow different, changed, reborn.

Rock was grateful, feeling as though he hadn't seen Revy in a year. He sat silently in his seat as she turned her gaze back to the road, obviously ok to drive again. God, she was amazing.

Needing a smoke, Rock grunted forward to open the glove box and take out a pack of American Spirits.

"Goddammit, Rock! What did I just say?" Revy blared, in annoyance of Rock's obstinate behavior.

"You didn't tell me not to move." Rock countered immaturely, grimacing as he broke the seal to his tobacco product.

"Don't do anything! For fuck's sake, Rock! You just had the shit beat out of you." Revy scolded.

An all too familiar silence then filled the GTO's canopy, with neither saying a word to the other. As another police cruiser raced by, Revy broke the silence again.

"So… where'd you go psycho-boy?" Revy ridiculed him, alluding to the haunting scenelet that had just transpired between them.

Rock faltered for just a moment, then proceeded to light the cigarette in his mouth, breathing deep as he closed his eyes. Was he ignoring her?

Revy continued, "I had everything under control, ya know? I didn't need your help. What were you thinking getting involved like that? You could've gotten yourself killed!" She exclaimed, hiding her feelings from him yet again.

"Leave it alone, Revy." Rock responded lethargically, wholly ambivalent to her nagging.

Revy gritted her teeth in frustration of Rock's aloof demeanor, then turned her head back to the road. "I was going to take care of it. You didn't have to do it. I would've… killed him. You didn't have to."

Another silence followed, before Rock finally responded, "I couldn't wait." He replied with heavy consternation, staring up into the roof of the car.

The look of annoyance on Revy's face was soon replaced with one of regret, and she looked over at Rock again with empathetic eyes. She could see now that he was afflicted; confused with trammeled reservation for what he'd just done. Revy needed to have more compassion. It was Rock's first time taking a man's life. For the first time now, he and Revy had something in common other than their taste in movies and pizza; they were both killers. Revy left him alone for the rest of the drive back to the commune.

Upon arrival, Revy pulled up right out front Lagoon's office, and put the Goat in park. It was past midnight, and the rain had finally ceased to a light trickle. Revy got out and made her way around the car to help Rock. He opened his car door on his own, then lifted his right leg out to the sidewalk.

"Ho there, cowboy." Revy jested, impeding Rock from going any further on his own. "Come on, give me your arm."

Rock did as he was told and slunk his arm around Revy's shoulders so she could help ease him out of the GTO, groaning in discomfort as he went. Once Rock was on his feet, the pain wasn't so bad, but he was exhausted and needed sleep.

"Let's go. Keep your weight on me." Revy aided.

She walked him carefully through the building's open entrance, then rode the service elevator up to second floor, before finally arriving at Revy's apartment. She opened the front door, and flipped on the light, then helped ease Rock inside. Her studio was still a mess from this morning. Revy walked him to the middle of the room before getting out from under his weight to face him.

"Strip." She ordered plainly.

"What?" Rock replied, confused.

"We need to clean and dress your wounds, otherwise they'll get infected, if they aren't already. Strip." She followed up again.

"All of it?" He asked.

"Down to your bare ass." Revy smirked, quoting the new Tarantino film they had both recently just watched together.

Rock did what he could, grabbing the hem of his shredded, bloodstained henley with both hands to try pull it up over his head. He managed to get halfway before he hissed as the terrible shooting pain in his side returned, and gave up, discouraged.

Revy moved in very close now, so close Rock could feel her breath on his face. "Lift your arms up." She whispered.

Rock obeyed and Revy helped him pull his shirt back over his head, tenderly lingering her touch as she went. Rock couldn't remember the last time Revy had ever been so gentle with him, emotionally or physically. After finally removing his ruined garment, Revy let it fall carelessly to her wooden floor, then lowered her gaze, inspecting the terrible laceration left gaping across his tone chest. Revy stopped suddenly upon eyeing a very familiar pendent suspended on a simple string of rawhide wrapped around Rock's neck.

Rock noted, feeling Revy's eyes on his makeshift necklace. "It's the silver bullet you gave me, remember?"

Revy didn't respond, instead looking back up thoughtfully into Rock's eyes. She unsnapped his belt buckle without warning, then pulled the leather strap out of his belt loops with ease and Rock began to feel another one of his involuntary responses stirring to life in his jeans.

"Can you take your boots off?" She asked.

"I'll try." He responded, giving it his best shot.

Rock leaned over slowly, raising his right leg up to his palms so he might start working his foot out. He faltered only once, but Revy was there to catch him, holding him supportively against her chest until he managed to free himself from both his boots and socks in due time. When Rock stood back up, Revy didn't waste anymore time. She undid his top button and the zipper to his jeans before vigorously pulling them down past his hips, lowering herself to her knees as she went. Rock was taken off guard by her urgency, forgetting he had gone commando that day. She stood up after unhooking his heels from his bunched pant legs, seemingly unfazed by his healthy and vital manhood; guess it wasn't anything she hadn't seen before… since last night, that is.

Rock was now completely naked, standing in the middle of Revy's apartment. In that moment, Rock's appearance reminded Revy to the Iroquois natives of North America's early colonial wars, or to the battle-hardened gladiators of the Colosseum from the days of ancient Rome. Primal, raw, enduring; Revy felt her cheeks begin to flush.

"Um… okay, now go get in the shower." She hesitated slightly.

Rock moved right, and opened the door to her bathroom. Revy began to feel hot all over as she watched him step into her walk-in shower from the doorway; realizing she should probably be in there to keep him from passing out again. She quickly kicked off her own boots to follow. Rock turned the valve and the water came out cold, then warmed slowly, streaming down his face and body. He placed his hands forward onto the brushed salmon tiles for support letting the warm water flow down his neck and back. He winced when the hot water finally arrived, burning into his open wounds that started to bleed again.

Unbeknownst to Rock, Revy had stepped into the shower with him, silently counting the number of lashes on his back as a result of the bike chain. It was horrible. There were so many, Rock looked like he had tiger stripes. She managed to get to seventeen before loosing track. He would have many scars, after tonight, body and soul alike. She stepped forward, letting Rock feel her presence from behind; tensing ever so slightly in embarrassment.

"Shhh, don't be nervous." She soothed, taking the soap and cloth from the wash rack in front of him.

She started slow, lathering the soap into the soft white washcloth before gently touching it to the cuts on his back. Rock expected pain, but was surprised at how quickly he relaxed into Revy's delicate treatment of him. Revy took the time to wash every inch of his backside, lingering playfully on his firm, perfectly formed ass. Rock couldn't quell his body's natural response to such scrupulous attention any longer, now fully and painfully erect.

Revy stopped to lather more soap into the wash cloth. "Okay, last one, turn around." Revy requested.

This time, Rock didn't accede her request, leaving his hands flat against the tile, his head down, desperate to keep his arousal secret.

Revy became instantly annoyed, "Okay, if you won't do that, then I'll come around you." She bartered, moving around him to dip low under his left arm and then slide between his body and the tiled wall. Not to Rock's surprise Revy became instantly aware of the sizable elephant in the room.

"Fuck, Rock! Could you be any harder?" She jabbed, dumbfounded by his impressive length and girth.

Rock chuckled under his breath and replied humorously, "No." Relieved she didn't shame him too badly for his lack of self-control.

Revy couldn't help but giggle mischievously, then gave Rock a warm smile before speaking again. "Look at me." She said.

Rock raised his head slowly to meet Revy's gaze. To his disappointment, she was still wearing her sports bra and denim shorts. Guess one of them needed to be responsible here. Revy raised her soapy wash cloth to the long cut across his chest, the worst one by far. She took her time, cleaning the wound thoroughly, then rung the cloth out of all excess blood and grime. She then placed it back on the wash rack before turning to peer back into Rock's now hungry and wanting gaze, breathing heavily through his mouth.

Revy made a fearless and searching critique of his body, scanning up and down, letting her gaze idle on his muscled arms, his broad shoulders, his defined chest, his washboard abs. Revy's shameless lusting incited her own body's natural arousal in response, her juices soaking clean through her panties and daisy dukes as a result.

"Uh oh." She whispered seductively. "I've gone a made a clean spot. Now I've done it. Guess I'll have to do the whole thing."

Revy then produced a healthy amount of lather into her palms from the bar of soap, then stepped forward against Rock, proceeding to wash him bare handed. Rock trembled with desire as Revy ran her hands enticingly along his hard, ropey muscles, flexing instinctively as they went, all the while his cock jabbing and slipping and sliding along Revy's smooth, tone abdomen. He moaned in response, never breaking their gaze, their lips only centimeters apart.

"Oh, Rock." Revy murmured, finally taking hold of the swollen length between them.

Rock lost control. He thrusted Revy back against the wall, grabbing her face and overpowering her in a hungry and ravishing kiss. She clutched at the sides of his face as well, both wanting to gain the upper hand, but Revy submitted first, yielding to Rock's incredible vivacity and stamina. He reached down to grab the hem of her sports bra, and Revy followed his lead, breaking the kiss to raise her arms up over her head, and Rock yanked it upwards, exposing her luscious, heaving breasts. Rock playfully lingered the tight spandex over her eyes like a blindfold, flicking his tongue across her lips, and Revy smiled, amused by his friskiness. He then pulled her top further back revealing her eyes. God, they were so beautiful. He took a moment to peer into those two gorgeous amber portals before quickly closing the gap again for another passionate, tongue-filled kiss. Finally freeing her arms of her top, Rock tossed it into the corner. Revy then threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close, pressing her pert, yet ample d-cups against him, now only wearing her denim shorts.

Things were getting extremely hot between them. Revy gasped when Rock took hold of her tits with both hands, expertly massaging them while he began leaving ravenous, wet kisses along her neck and collarbone. He bent his knees and took a single breast into his mouth, drawling little circles around her nipple with his tongue, whilst continuing to fondle the other. Revy didn't know what to do, compulsively biting and sucking at her own fingertips, moaning as she went. Rock continued fondling her breasts as he got down on both knees, trailing greedy, devouring kisses along her stomach. Revy held the sides of his head, panting in erotic majesty. She let out a whimper, as Rock grabbed the top of her shorts and panties together before yanking them down off of her tight, round ass, past her creamy, slick thighs before finally unhooking them from her trembling, feminine ankles.

"Rock." Revy moaned his name. "Are you sur—ahh!" Revy had all the air sucked from her lungs as Rock plunged his face deep into her plum nest of curls, feasting on her womanhood. "Oh, fuck!" She exclaimed.

She pulled his face deeper into her sex, arching her hips to grant him better access. He kissed, and licked, and suckled at her nub, fueling the fire; stoking the burn. The pleasure was unlike anything she had ever felt; no one ever having done this to her before. Revy died a little, when Rock pulled away suddenly, whimpering under labored breath as he rose up to meet her gaze again.

"I hate you." She murmured, agonized by how desperately she needed him in that moment.

"I hate you, too." He replied endearingly, before sliding an arm around her waist to pull her into another hot, lustful kiss. He cupped her cheek, tilting her head to one side; their tongues dancing for supremacy.

Revy held the back of his neck with one hand and another along his handsome face. Now there was absolutely nothing between them to get in the way; naked as they day they were born. The sensation was mind-blowing, pressed against one another's bodies as they kissed each other, insatiably tonguing each other's mouths. Revy was ready, she wanted to fuck, and Rock was only too eager to oblige, his cock so hard between them now, it was throbbing.

Rock raised one of Revy's thighs up to hug his hip, and then in an impressive show of strength, took a strong grip of her ass and raised her back up against the wall, Revy wrapping her legs around his waist instinctively in response. She was his now. At that exact moment, Rock's eyes began to glaze over and he faltered left with Revy stepping down just in time to catch them both.

"Rock! Jesus-fuck!" She shouted, angry he almost dropped her.

Rock rested his head up against the tile for support, trying to remain conscious. Revy felt terrible after realizing this. Rock had almost died earlier, but she was so swept up in the moment, all she could think about was getting off on him. For God's sake, he was still bleeding like a stuck-pig!

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Revy apologized, over and over again.

Rock in a daze, attempted at making love to her again, but Revy had finally had some sense knocked back into her.

"Whoa! Down boy!" She resisted, reaching over to turn the water valve to the right.

Rock grunted in sharp irritation as freezing cold water came pouring down his body, temporarily neutering him.

Revy giggled at his look of obvious frustration. God, she felt like such a tease. "Alright, big boy. Finish up and come on out, we need to dress those cuts before you bleed to death." An obvious exaggeration, though Rock clearly only had enough blood in his body for one of two major body parts right now.

Revy left him to cool off, thinking it best she didn't stay in the shower any longer lest he try to mount her again. She stepped out, then grabbed a towel to dry off, before closing the bathroom door behind her, leaving Rock with another painful episode of B.B.S. (Blue-ball syndrome).

Several minutes passed and Rock calmed back down. He shut the water off and stepped out. After grabbing a faded pink cotton towel and drying himself off, Rock secured it around his hips before opening the bathroom door back to Revy's studio. To his amazement, Revy had policed up the place in a flash. The furniture was turned back upright, the trash and broken glass had been picked up off the floor and put in the waist basket, and Revy had just got done smoothing out the sheets on her bed when she noticed him walk in.

She looked fucking great, Rock thought. She had wound her wet hair up into a casual, yet sexy updo, wearing a loose fitting white t-shirt displaying a vintage 80's promotional for Bruce Springsteen's Born in the U.S.A. tour. She had sliced the hem off the bottom, as Revy was so often known to do, exposing her slender waist and navel. Finally, she was wearing a simple grey, cotton, athletic thong, flaunting her cute ass for Rock's pleasure. Goddammit, he was starting to feel himself getting hard all over again.

"Sit down." She said, motioning to the wooden chair she had placed at the center of the room.

Rock did as he was instructed, moving forward then turning to sit back into the chair.

"Turn right, I'm going to do your back first." Revy followed up.

Rock did so, placing his arm on the back rest so she could do her work. Revy had retrieved her First Aid Kit from her dresser drawer and opened it up on her bed. Rock could hear her rooting around in it before turning back to face him. She undid the cap to a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and agitated its open top into a sterile gauze sponge.

"This'll sting a bit." She warned, then began disinfecting the many cuts on his back.

It hurt, but Rock worked his hardest not to flinch. After she was done, Revy disposed of the used gauze, then applied an anti-bacterial cream along the inside of each cut. It took about five minutes altogether before Revy finished the uncomfortable steps. She then took her bandages and medical scissors and finally started cutting and taping appropriate size bandages for each cut. By the time she was done, Rock's back was completely covered.

Rock finally spoke up, "It hurts to breath." He complained.

"No shit, you've got a broken rib." Revy replied, returning to the bed to gather up fresh supplies.

"Shouldn't I go to the hospital?" Rock asked.

Revy snorted, "Yeah right! After you popped that beaner's brains like a champagne cork? Watsup and his goons are probably all out in force looking for witnesses as we speak. Best to lay low for now." Revy deduced.

"Still. Shouldn't we at least bind my chest with tape or something?" Rock asked again, demonstrating his lack of medical expertise.

"That doesn't work, you idiot. If we tape it up, yeah, it'll feel better, but that's how you get pneumonia or even a collapsed lung. Best you can do, is just apply ice and breathe as deeply as you can. Now shut up, and let me do this. This ain't my first rodeo." Revy lectured, before returning to his side. "Turn forward again." She said.

Rock complied, trusting her judgment. She was now standing in front of him holding her supplies. Revy then surprised Rock as she stepped around his legs to sit and straddle his waist. After Revy got comfortable, she got ready to repeat the same field dress from earlier. Rock looked at her as she began agitating more hydrogen peroxide into a fresh gauze sponge.

"Revy?" He queried.

"Hm?" She responded distractedly, caught up in her work.

"Um… what… what you were doing with those guys in the first place?" Rock asked stupidly, guilt lacing every word.

Revy stopped to look back at Rock's melancholy gaze.

She waited a moment before responding. "After I saw you with that skank at Feilong's, I don't know, I just… kinda… snapped. I went to the bar needing a drink. That was when I ran into those wetbacks. I was feeling pretty reckless. So... I thought, I'll show him… Guess I showed ya, huh?" Revy finished bitterly, applying the disinfectant deep into his cut, making him hiss in pain. She snorted, "Hmph! Got ya that time, didn't I, you fuck."

Rock wincing as he spoke, "Revy, I didn't even know that girl. She threw herself on me, I swear. It didn't mean anythi–"

"It meant something to me!" She interrupted hatefully, slapping the wound on his chest.

Rock stifled a loud bark into his throat, "Jesus!" He cried, trembling against her.

Revy continued on like nothing happened, "This wounds pretty deep, and I don't have any sutures, otherwise I'd stitch it up. We're going to have to do try something else." She followed, holding up a shiny air tight bag in front of his face.

"What's that?" He asked nervously.

"QuikClot. Saves lives, trust me." She smirked impishly.

"What's it do?" He asked, again; always suspicious whenever Revy asked him for trust.

"It's a hemostatic agent, they use it in the military. Here, lean back." She informed candidly, scooching her way up his lap. She agitated the bags contents to one side as she continued. "It works like a styptic, contracting broken tissue by sealing the injured blood vessels shut."

"You really know your shit, does it hurt?" Rock asked anxiously.

"Not really. Here, put this in your mouth, just in case." Revy, handing Rock his own leather belt that had been hanging over the chairs backrest. Rock reconciled his well-being entirely over to Revy, folding the leather strap between his teeth. She then tore open the seal with her own teeth, before speaking up again. "Rock…"

"Yeah?" He muffled behind his belt.

"I lied. It's gonna hurt a like motherfucker." Revy revealed ominously, then tilted the bag over.

"Wha!?" Rock squawked, before letting out a long, bone-rattling howl as Revy emptied the fine grey powder along his open wound.

"Ah, come on, you pussy! It ain't that bad!" Revy sneered, holding Rock's head back by the tuff of his mohawk.

Rock felt like his chest was on fire, as if he was being cauterized by a red hot poker. He vibrated violently in his seat, so much so, Revy thought he might shake the chair apart. A few agonizing moments passed and Rock began to settle back down, going limp in her clutches as the belt slid out of his mouth to hit the floor.

"There you go, there you go. Shhh. Relax, it's all over." Revy softened, stroking Rock's hair to calm him. She then wiped clean any excess blood from his chest and then proceeded to cut and tape a fresh bandage across his chest.

"F-fuck, Revy." Rock stumbled, staring up at the ceiling, feeling like he might pass out again.

Revy gathered up her supplies into her right arm before replying, "Yeah, yeah. Life's a bitch, and so am I. Get over it." She stated defensively then stepped back off of him.

She then turned to walk back to the bed, before being stopped suddenly, her left hand having been seized by Rock. Revy turned to berate him, but was taken aback upon what she saw. Rock had leaned over, hanging his head forward to conceal his face. He then pulled her suddenly back against him causing her to drop her medical supplies onto the floor.

"Rock! What the fuck?" Revy demanded.

Rock didn't respond, hiding his face into her smooth stomach as he wrapped his arms tightly around her hips and thighs. Revy began to feel him shudder against her, feeling hot tears form against her skin.

"Ah geez, Rock." Revy said, embarrassed.

Rock remained silent, cringing in penance for how he had betrayed her. Revy's annoyed look was soon replaced with one of pity; resting her hands atop his naked shoulders while Rock did his best to only lament softly.

What was wrong with her? Revy asked herself. Rock had almost given his life for her that night, and she was still bent out of shape over a stupid kiss with some random slut? Shenhua had probably put her up to it, knowing her. Rock had more then made up for it since then. In fact, in one night, Rock had proven himself to be more of a man than anyone Revy had ever met. She owed him the benefit of the doubt, at the very least. He earned it.

"I'm sorry." Revy apologized.

"I thought I had lost you." Rock finally managed.

Revy had always admired Rock's sensitive and peace-loving nature, and was grateful he hadn't lost it yet.

"Shhh." Revy fawned, smiling warmly now. "It's okay, everything's okay." Her voice was softhearted and pardoning as she cradled Rock's head lovingly against her, continuing to stroke his head.

Rock's vulnerability stirred at something in Revy and she quickly realized something. That she was ashamed of her persiflage, her boasting, her pretensions of courage and ruthlessness; she was sorry about her cold-bloodedness, her dispassion, her inability to express what she now believed was the case; that she truly and deeply loved Rock, and couldn't bare the thought of living in a world without him.

Rock and Revy would soon retire to her bedside and she would continue to soothe him even after he fell asleep in her arms, holding him close until the pain stopped. Lost together in oblivion; dark and silent and complete.

—

A Note From The Author

Hey guys!

I just want to extend my thanks and appreciation to everyone who took the time to read Chapter 1 and I hope you enjoyed Chapter 2 all the same, if not more. Your kind words and support only encouraged me to really deliver something I thought you would approve of. Apologies for the wait, but I work two jobs and only have nights and weekends off to write and edit, otherwise Chapter 2 would have come out a lot sooner. Granted, it is twice the length of my first Chapter.

Attrition Warfare has become a real passion-project for me, of late. I decided to write this story after recently watching the anime for the first time all the way through. I felt that while it had great potential, its plot and characters went thoroughly undeveloped and unrealized. I decided to write the arc I had always hoped I would see in the anime, and that's exactly what you're reading now. Gratuitous sex and violence doesn't really bother me like it does for some people, so I felt like I had a fighting chance at writing a believable story arc for Black Lagoon.

Due to the cinematic nature of the manga and anime, I make countless pop culture references to movies, music, and people that were popular in the early 90's, some more subtle than others. I don't deny my own love for cinema pervades in my writing. I cite the majority of my inspiration for this story to the early directorial work of Martin Scorsese and Quentin Tarantino, however more will become obvious in later chapters.

Please take the time to review, and share your thoughts! It's very rewarding for me to read your thoughts. Because of you, I fully intend on seeing Attrition Warfare all the way through to it's epic conclusion, so sit back and enjoy the ride!

—NoirFan7