The War for Hell's Kitchen
Allies and Friends
By: Brenli

Nema felt bad about stealing Uriel's hoodie, but then again she already felt bad for lying to him and sneaking out of his apartment. Wearing his hoodie and getting it covered in rain felt like a minor offense compared to the rest... and in any case, this was for a greater good.

She couldn't just leave the Union Allied pension file in her apartment, unwatched. Waiting to be snatched up by the people who created it, in the first place, so they could keep funneling money away.

Yeah, maybe Daniel's death should have been enough to scare her off. And if not that, then surely nearly being strangled to death should have turned her away...

But it didn't.

And she supposed that was the nature of herself. That danger couldn't thwart her when she saw something wrong. It could scare her. It could awaken a monster desperate for survival, but it couldn't thwart her.

All the same, seeing the big bloodstains on the floor gave her pause. God, she wasn't sure what to do about all that blood. It just seeped in too deep; even if she somehow managed to get rid of the red, she was sure it would still be there. Unseen but lingering...

Nema swallowed the apprehensive lump in her bruised throat and hurried past the stains, into the bathroom, standing on top of the lid of her toilet. When she'd first stashed the thumb drive away in the ceiling vent, she thought it might have been overkill. A leftover piece of paranoia from growing up in a building covered in cameras, a place where you created and treasured hiding places because they were so few. Now she congratulated herself on being cautious, her fingers closing around the bit of plastic and pulling it down.

Okay. Perfect. Now all she had to do was sneak back in to Uriel's apartment and act like she'd never left in the first place. The hoodie would be dry by morning...

The second she felt herself being grabbed, she screamed. A survival roar, shredding in her bruised throat, throwing the thumb drive far away from herself, clawing and kicking even as her latest attacker smashed her head against the wall, once, twice.

The third time, she fell.

Nema fought through the dizzying pain in her head, desperately trying to stand as her attacker grabbed the thumb drive, turned, and calmly began to come back to her. She heard the click of a knife blade flipping outward, and even as the room kept spinning, she tried to think of what weapons she had... None but her bare hands. Maybe she would have to take a wound to survive. It would be worth it.

Before she could even begin to steel herself for that plan, the front door to her apartment opened, and in strode another man. Taller... far more imposing than her attacker, and all the more frightening for the black cloth tied around the top half of his head... literally, it covered his eyes and she wondered how he was able to see through it.

Her immediate assumption was that this man was working alongside her attacker. It just made sense. Two men could take care of a dead body much easier than one could...

That was when the masked man charged at her attacker and tackled him to the floor.

What...? The room looked like it was still tilting every which way, which made watching the two men fight even more dizzying. But they were fast... the masked man even more so, bravely grasping the attacker's knife-wielding hand on more than one occasion. She heard the snap of bone, and the slashing rip of a knife blade through fabric. When the attacker made a two-handed move to plunge the knife into the man in the mask, the man grabbed him by the wrists and attempted to throw him to the floor.. but the attacker flipped through the air instead, and still landed on his feet. Or maybe that was just her head still trying to even out the world. God, maybe she had a concussion...

The attacker briefly managed to get the masked man on the floor, and in that short moment Nema mentally rifled through the layout of her apartment. If she moved fast, she could grab a lamp and hit the attacker over the head with it-

But no sooner than the idea entered her mind, the man in the mask was up again, still bravely grappling with the knife-wielding attacker. She watched him throw the attacker into the corner of her apartment, watched her attacker scramble, stand, lunge with a deep, sweeping slice of the knife. But the masked man was too tall, his limbs so long they still managed to grab him. As they struggled, turning, the masked man's shoes planted against her wall and ran along it.

Um. What.

But the move, as bizarrely acrobatic as it was, disoriented the attacker, and enabled the man in the mask to throw him through her window... though he fell along with him.

Nema's mouth dropped open as the sound of glass shattered through her dizziness. What was this? What was going on? She left Vermont to get away from inexplicable things...! She nonetheless scrambled, stumbling through the spinning apartment to her busted window. She almost foolishly gripped at the broken frame and cut her fingers on bits of glass, but stopped herself. Hands that hovered as her vision finally stopped swimming came up to cover her mouth, watching the two men continue to fight in the rain... The attacker nearly strangling the man in the mask at one point, but he couldn't overpower the sheer strength of him... and he seemed to finally realize it.

The attacker took advantage of a brief moment that the masked man was down, not to continue hitting him – clearly he wasn't getting anywhere doing that – but to run for his knife, grab it, and lunge with a sharp swipe.

The masked man came up just in time to smash his fist right in the center of the attacker's face. Yet the attacker kept coming, slashing through the wet air... the man in the mask dodged each time, whether that meant leaning, ducking, or even flipping through the rain.

Even through the sound of the raindrops, Nema could hear the cracking of bone in several places along the attacker's arm. It bought the masked man time to catch his breath, stumbling back in the rain... but it also allowed the attacker to stand, to grab the knife he'd dropped during the pain of his arm breaking. He still had one good arm to use...

In a move Nema hadn't been anticipating, the man in the mask suddenly grabbed the chain hanging from the scaffolding and used it, wrapping it around the attacker's neck. Just seeing it had her own throat constricting, though the masked man didn't use it for choking so much as restraint, hitting him over and over again until the knife dropped and the man stopped kicking and swinging. The final blow, a kick right to the attacker's face, sent him right to the wet ground.

He struggled to even begin standing.

Nema's breath came in rough gasps as she tried to process what had just happened, what she'd just seen. She should probably call the cops, or... or at the very least, hurry back to Uriel's apartment, even if she'd failed to get the thumb drive. Get as far away from this violence as possible...

But as she slipped out of her apartment and rushed down to ground level... she paused. Stood in the rain as she watched the attacker still struggling to breathe, and the man in the mask panting as he tried to get back on his feet. His back was cut, at the right shoulder...

He collapsed on that wounded back before finally standing. Nema was frozen, a cautious doe in the rain watching the masked man fish through the attacker's pockets and pull out the thumb drive. "... Wh... Who... What the Hell...?"

"I'll get this into the right hands." The man in the mask spoke, his voice at once both smooth and firm as polished stone.

The desperation hit her as soon as his meaning became clear. "No...! No, you can't! You can't take it to the police; you can't trust anyone...!" And she hated that she felt that way. She hated that she couldn't find it in herself to trust the people who were supposed to keep the public safe... but her throat still hurt, and her words still strained like they had to make their way out of tightly wrapped bed sheets.

The man in the mask paused, looking over his shoulder at her. "... Then we tell everyone." The masked man sighed when the attacker ceased all movement and immediately unwrapped the chain from his neck... checked for a pulse. "Go back to..." He paused. "Go home. Dry off. Get some rest... and get someone to fix your window in the morning."

But fixing her window was the last thing on her mind. She watched him, not minding the rain as he bound the attacker up in that chain and hoisted him over his shoulder. He moved off, disappearing in the maze of dark New York alleys... and it was only then when she returned to Uriel's apartment.

She was in a hurry, hanging the wet hoodie on the hook she'd taken it from and silently scurrying back into the bedroom. She couldn't be sure, but she didn't think that she saw Uriel on the couch...?

Yet he was there in the morning, offering to take her out for some coffee and breakfast.

Nema had a better idea.

She... honestly, would not consider herself a particularly great cook, but she could make a decent pasta.

… Yeah yeah, it was boiled noodles and sauces, essentially. It counted for something...!

"Here you go...!" Despite the recent nightmare of her life, she managed to sound chipper, which had the two lawyers chuckling. "I know it's not much in the way of repayment..."

Uriel smiled anyway, a deep, "Mmmmmm..." leaving his throat. He was at once both relaxed and... stiff, she couldn't explain it. Like maybe his back was aching... she should have made him take the bedroom.

"But it is my grandmother's recipe, and she made me promise only to serve it to my future husband, so be happy I'm breaking the rules for you two!" She plopped down in the third chair they'd arranged around the cheap table with a haughty little smile... but it felt good to be a bit sassy, it made her think of the pockets of happiness she shared with her brother.

Her teasing attitude had Uriel laughing, "And should we be afraid of your grandmother's wrath, or your future husband's?"

"I'm voting grandmother," Setsuna bantered. "Little old ladies pack a wallop with their purses! Not that I know from experience or anything."

Nema ignored the way her voice still cracked a bit from her bruised throat, embraced the warm giggle that left her. "You can't blame her. The pasta is filled with virtue!"

Uriel made a big show of giving an appreciative nod. "I thought I detected a whiff of virtue in there."

As Nema smiled and served them, Setsuna swung the conversation away from virtuous pasta. "Not that I'm complaining, but you really should be thanking the nut in the mask."

"He's not a nut...!" Nema found herself defending him. Goodness knows, she knew what a real lunatic looked like. That man in the mask... he was brave to the point of foolhardiness, maybe. But if not for him, she'd be dead... "I mean, he's a little weird, maybe-"

"We're just glad that you're okay." Uriel cut her off, albeit with kindness.

"Hear, hear!" Setsuna agreed with a grin.

And Nema found herself grinning, too. "Well... if it weren't for you two, I'd still be in that cell."

"Job's easy when your client's innocent," Uriel said simply. "All you did was tell the truth."

Why did that feel like an accusation...? God, no wonder he was a lawyer. He could make you feel your guilt while still being utterly innocuous. But Nema knew she didn't have to confess anything. She wasn't on trial, and it was only his innocence that made her feel her guilt. He wasn't... actually accusing her. Right? "Yeah... but you listened." She countered quietly.

A corner of Uriel's mouth lifted, but he didn't say anything. Only placed a mouthful of pasta into his mouth and chewed with a pleased countenance.

"Oh, and don't get us wrong; we're still gonna bill you." Setsuna gestured with a little wave of his knife. "Just as soon as we figure out how to make bills."

Uriel laughed, and the deep sound of it had Nema laughing, too. "I did notice that you could use some help around here... And I owe you." She fidgeted, wondering if they would take her offer. "Maybe I could clean the place up a bit?"

"... Is this place messy?" Uriel asked, his dark brows briefly furrowed... teasing.

Setsuna played off of Uriel with a snooty look. "Our firm is very prestigious and discerning, Miss Page. Do you have any prior experience hiding electrical cords up in ceiling tiles?" His voice cracked around a chuckle that had Nema giggling.

"Ummmmmm... no, but... I'll work for free?" Granted, she wasn't sure how she was going to afford rent and utilities if she was working for free... but she'd been in worse conundrums, like sleeping in abandoned cars in tiny towns as she worked her way across state lines.

Uriel smiled around a bite of pasta. "Yeah, you're hired."

"You just got hired!" Setsuna said with a celebratory grin, lifting his glass of cheap white wine. "A toast!"

Their three glasses clinked together, each of them wearing a smile. How had this happened so suddenly, as if rising from the ashes of her life with Union Allied? Nema didn't know...

But she knew that this, unlike so much of her life, had felt natural and easy and right.