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-o0o0o-

Chapter 7:

The Aftermath

-o0o0o-

Allen's eyes flew back open and he sat up so suddenly that he had to spend a few moments waiting for the black spots to fade from his vision.

They eventually did, but the accompanying migraine seemed determined to hang around.

And nothing really got better from knowing that…

1) Allen was trapped in a villain's lair,

2) said villain was none other than Tyki Mikk,

3) Tyki Mikk was in fact the Hero Killer, and

4) Allen had vague recollections of the villain holding his hair up while he clutched the toilet seat like a lifeline, overcome with nausea.

Mortification did not even begin to describe it. At this rate, Allen would die from embarrassment before anything else. No. His head would definitely kill him before all that.

"Hey, you don't look too good…"

Allen did not feel too good, because the light was stabbing him in the eyes and his head felt like it was going to burst any minute now. And Tyki's presence was not helping in the least, so− "Go away," he muttered, burying his head in the pillow.

The villain did not seem to care though. "Do you need anything? Aspirin maybe?"

Allen cracked an eye back open and immediately regretted it. "Doesn't work on migraines…"

"It doesn't?" Tyki said; he sounded surprised. "Huh, I guess you learn something new every day."

Yeah, and sometimes, you learned that one of your poker pals was in fact the same guy that had been trying and nearly succeeding to kill you on numerous occasions.

"Tyleno−?"

Ugh. "Contains paracetamol. No."

There was a brief pause at that. "Paraceta−okay… what do you need?" Tyki finally asked.

Allen needed a lot of things. Still− "…Ketoprofen, but ibuprofen might work…"

Upon hearing retreating footsteps, Allen breathed a quiet sigh of relief. As it turned out, the relief was fairly short-lived though.

"…I'm not sure I should be giving you these," Tyki commented, voice accompanied by a rattle of pills. "It says here they might cause heart problems…"

What. The. Hell? "…I didn't have to worry about my heart until you came along, you fucking hypocrite…"

There was an exasperated sigh at that. "Right, well, it can't be helped now, can it?"

Yes, it could. Tyki could just let him leave and then they could both pretend all of this never happened.

"You know, there's naproxen," Tyki commented after a while. "It says here that it works best on migraines. I could head down to the drugstore and get you some if you want."

Allen briefly contemplated telling Tyki that not having to hear his voice would also be pretty good, but ultimately opted against it. "…Suit yourself, you fucking bastard," he muttered instead, because as things were, it was not as though Allen could actually do much to stop him now, could he?

"I could just let you suffer, you know?" Tyki commented, his voice closer now and his tone back to exasperated. "It's not like I haven't done that before."

Yeah. How many times again? Allen tried to recall, but his head just hurt so damned much, so he settled for an alternative. "Sadist."

There was an amused snort at that. "Me? Sadist? No, that'd Sheril."

"…Huh?"

"Right…" Tyki finally said, picking up on his confusion. "I meant that my brother's the sadistic one. Really. Just trust me on that one."

Tyki having a brother was old news, given how the man had spent a fair amount of time complaining about the man's overbearing and at times even perverse tendencies. But there had never been any names involved nor any other info that could be easily attributed to a specific individual; Allen had done the same when talking about his own life. But maybe Tyki did not see the need to dial down on the personal info now that Allen knew about him.

"…Is he also a villain?" Allen finally asked, cracking an eye open again, just enough to see Tyki give a dismissive wave of sorts.

"Nah," the villain commented. "He's a politician, but that's basically the same thing anyway."

Really. "You shouldn't talk about your brother like that."

"Trust me," Tyki said. "You would say the same thing if you ever met him."

Maybe, but− "…I meant, you shouldn't reveal such private information."

The villain looked somewhat surprised at that, and that made two of them, because why was Allen giving tips to this villain again?

"Right," Tyki said after a while, averting his gaze a bit while scratching his head. "Black Order policies."

"…Huh?"

Tyki looked to him then, really looked. "Oh right, I guess they call it the Agency these days."

"These days?"

To the extent of Allen's knowledge, the Agency had only been established some thirty-odd years ago, and he had never−

"Well," Tyki said, interrupting his ongoing line of thought. "I'm not the best person around here to give out history lessons, but I guess I could fill you in on a few things. Not now though…"

Allen wondered what any of that even meant.

"I'll be back soon, okay? Don't go anywhere."

-o0o0o-

The thing is, Allen did not take orders from a villain, not even in the aftermath of a head injury and concussion or in the throes of what was probably one of the worst migraines he had ever had. Okay, so maybe not the absolute worst migraine, but it had to be at least in the top five.

In any case, Allen did not take orders from villains. Unfortunately, it seemed as though his body was equally unwilling to listen to him.

Sure, he eventually managed to get out of bed. And sure, he managed to stand up and not immediately fall back down again. But really, leaving proved a lot more difficult than it should have. Sure, there was the window, but without being able to invoke and being this unsteady, he realised he could not take the window route. Or sure, he could technically try to call for help and all, but−

But he would rather try his luck with the door, because even if it was locked, the lock could be picked or the door could be broken down, and Allen did not have to consider property damages at this point.

"O-kay," he said to himself. "Let's do this."

-o0o0o-

A short while later, the villain returned to find him defeated, or more specifically, to him keeping his aching and bleeding knuckles submerged in the sink in the attached bathroom.

"Well," the villain said. "Guess I should've expected that."

Allen could have killed him really, or at the very least punched him; his knuckles were fucked up anyway, and he had reached the point where he didn't care anymore. "Either knock me out or let me out, because I'm not dealing with any more of this bullshit today."

Tyki held up a paper bag. "Painkillers. Medical supplies."

He held up another. "Takeout."

On cue, Allen's stomach growled.

-o0o0o-

"So," Allen said at last, struggling a bit with his chopsticks. "Why am I here?"

Allen had considered asking 'Why am I still alive?' and 'What made you stop trying to kill me?' and all that, but for now, he would not think about any stomach-churning things if he could avoid it. Because he was eating, and he would rather not start throwing up all over again.

On a separate note, Allen did feel a whole lot better now. He mostly had the painkillers to thank for that, but Allen wondered if he had not accidentally overdosed on something, because he did feel a bit− off? No, he felt eerily calm now, fairly tired, sure, but far cry from the panic he had experienced at the beginning.

Now that he could actually think without hurting his brain all that much, Allen wondered whether or not the Stockholm syndrome was beginning to set in. Because Allen did not hate Tyki, even knowing about the man's other side and knowing what the man had done as the Hero Killer. Then again, fact remained that they had still known each other before this, at least in a manner of speaking, so maybe−

Allen looked up.

Tyki was watching him, his odd almost amber-coloured eyes completely devoid of anything that could be labelled killing intent. It was different from earlier, and extremely different from what Allen had experienced prior to all of this.

Just a short while ago, Tyki had patched up Allen's knuckles and bandaged them with a kind of tenderness that did not belong with someone who tore out people's inner organs, supposedly for funsies.

Signs definitely pointed to that something had changed in-between them; the Hero Killer had only aimed to kill. Tyki meanwhile?

"I had orders," the villain said at last, putting out his cigarette. "Find and eliminate the people named on the list."

List? "A hit list?"

"Of sorts." Sighing, Tyki pulled out another cigarette and lit it. "A magical hit list, I guess, because the names on it won't disappear until the people are dead. And it's supposed to detect when one of the people on the list is nearby."

That… sounded awfully convenient, but also really bad. "Where is it now?"

Tyki shrugged. "Beats me. I think I lost it back in February," he said. "But it's all the same, really. I've only seen the card react to one person, and that's you. Well, your hero persona at any rate."

Allen bit his lip. "So, you knew? All this time…"

Had he?

"Not really."

Allen frowned. "But if you already had my name, so you could have easily just−"

"No," Tyki intoned, taking the cigarette in-between his fingers. "Because that's bad form. Going after people while they are in their civvies is a big no-no."

Well, that was a definite first, because Allen had always had the impression that a lot of villains would jump at the chance to strike heroes when they were the most vulnerable. Heck, the Agency had overhauled its information and registration policies almost solely because of the suspicion that the villain had gotten their hands on a list containing personal info on a bunch of heroes enlisted with the Agency. "…Why?"

For a while, Tyki said nothing, simply staring up into the ceiling. "Well," he said at last, looking back down. "…I didn't make the rules to this game, and neither did you; We're merely stuck playing it."

"…Game?"

"…Like I said," Tyki reinitiated, leaning forward now. "I'm not the best person to talk about history, so let's not talk about it. Let's talk about what happens from here."

Allen just watched him warily.

"Your name is on my hit list, which I lost, but knowing the person who compiled it, it's probably some mistake," Tyki deadpanned. "My boss might be fucked up in the head, but he has an admitted soft spot for kids. And knowing you're just a kid, it's not like I'm gonna kill you anyway. Besides, we're poker pals and all, and poker pals shouldn't go around trying to kill each other over nongame-related matters…"

Allen could not help but think of Charity Bell, who did not live to see his twentieth birthday. He quickly discarded the thought though, because now was not the time. "…I guess."

If Tyki noticed his discomfort, then he made no note of it. "And as for the answer to your question or demand back there: I'm not planning on keeping you locked up in here forever. This place can be crowded enough for a single person."

Allen lifted his gaze, narrowing his eyes just a fraction. "So… what are you planning then?"

Because that was an excellent question, and it needed answers, preferably imminently.

"Well," Tyki said after a brief pause. "I was planning on letting you join the weekly Monopoly game later tonight, but with the state of those hands of yours, maybe−"

"I want to go."

Tyki levelled him with a look. Then he smiled. "I thought you might say that."

-o0o0o-

It felt strange, returning to the Devil's Nest after everything that had gone down. But it felt almost normal after that strange walk from Tyki's apartment. It was evening, so it was getting darker, and while Allen was very familiar with the cityscape at night, he had seldom viewed it from the ground, and he had most definitely not experienced it like this.

Had Allen had any sense, then he should have taken one of the numerous opportunities to get away. Unfortunately, Tyki's words had kept him right where he was, sticking close.

"Yo, started without me already, you bastards," Tyki commented without much spite as he entered.

"Well if it isn't Mikk," one of them, Boris, answered. "We were wondering if you'd show up at all, you slippery bastard."

"Got delayed," Tyki responded, putting a hand behind Allen's back and pushing him forward.

The rest of the patrons let out various exclamations of surprise and appreciation.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes, Little Red. Been really busy as of late, I take it?" Carlos said, and yeah, kind of.

"What about those bruises?" Darius commented, and Allen felt a sudden urge to hide them. "Hey, Mikk, you bastard, did you−?!"

Surprisingly, Tyki did not deny the allegation. Equally surprising, Allen decided to divert their attention. "I bombed my history exam and took out my frustration on a wall," he said, before thinking better of it.

His efforts seemed to pay off though, because the rest immediately turned their attention towards him.

"Little Red," Darius commented. "There are better ways to deal with that kind of thing, like comfort eating or−"

Yeah, but− "Do I look like I have the money to do that kind of thing?"

"Hey, did the wall hit back or what?" Boris asked, getting up. "Those are finger-shaped bruises."

"Uh…" Allen tried to step back, only to crash into Tyki. Tyki in turn grabbed him by the shoulders, and stood behind him, keeping him in place as the mobster stepped up, putting a hand underneath his chin.

"Who hurt you, little Red?" Boris asked, leaning in close. "We'd like to have a word with them."

There were several nods and hums of agreement at that.

"I'm fine," Allen said at the same time as Tyki said "It won't happen again. Not on my watch.", to which Allen simply had to turn his head and look because what the fuck?

"Better keep a closer eye on him then, Mikk," Boris said, stepping back at last, and again, there were nods and noises of agreement all around.

Allen felt a bit offended actually. "Guys, I'm not a child."

This time around, there were hums and looks of 'yeah, sure'.

"Seriously," Allen said. "This is not up to debate."

Cue five looks of 'yeah, sure'. And a smile. Tyki's. "Wanna bet?"

-o0o0o-

The night ended with Allen, or Red, being informally adopted. By a bunch of mobsters.

"We're honorary uncles now," they congratulated one another, all while Allen resisted a surfacing urge to hide his head in his hands, because what? What the Hell? How the Hell? Why the Hell?

Even Tyki had become an honorary relative of sorts. And his self-appointed guardian.

Allen was fairly ready to call it quits on things making any lick of sense from this point onward.

"O-kay, I've had enough. Tyki, can I…?" he trailed off, wondering if he even dared to finish the question.

"Sure," Tyki said, rising to his feet. "Let's go."

Yeah…

Allen did not protest.

The walk was quiet, at least at first.

"So," Allen said at last. "What happens now?"

For a while, Tyki said nothing, exhaling some smoke. Then he steered them into a somewhat secluded narrow alleyway "Nothing much," he said. "The Game continues."

Allen frowned. "What about explaining all this shit?"

Tyki just sighed. "Like I said, not a history expert. But really, if you want to know how things string together, then you shouldn't talk to me; you should talk to Bookman."

Allen's thoughts, and steps, ground to a sudden standstill. "…Bookman?"

"You know that old bookshop, Bookman's Lair, over in the Fifth?" Tyki said.

Sure, Allen knew it. It would be pretty damned hard not to, seeing as to how he freaking lived above it and the owner was his freaking landlord. Bookman, Lavi's mentor, the 'Old (Panda) Geezer'. "Is he a villain?" Allen asked.

Tyki gave a somewhat dismissive wave at that. "Nah. Bookmen don't really take sides. It's not their style. But yeah, the Game continues," he said, and with those words, Tyki just kind of saluted and vanished into a wall, with a casual "See you around, Boy."

For a moment, Allen just stood there, blinking, still processing the fact. Actually, he might have been standing there for several moments, maybe even minutes, wondering what the Hell just happened. He only really snapped out of it when he sensed danger closing in on his position.

Allen spun around just in time to see someone skid to a halt at the alleyway's entrance.

And it was Kanda, dressed up as Mugen. And he looked even more pissed off than usual.

"Moyashi…"

And then Kanda was fast approaching, stalking closer, and Allen realised that he might actually end up dying after all.

-o0o0o-