Chapter 21: Purgatory

As Wolf made his way over to the Black Lagoon, the others all headed inside to prepare for the journey home. All of them, except for Pius. He remained there, his expression indicating that he had a lot to say to the assassin. His words would not be kind, giving how much he cared about Roberta. Wolf stood at the edge of the boat, his eyes on the house. Ashur had gotten away. He retrieved his gun from the ground while Wolf had been speaking in an attempt to kill his opponent. After Wolf kicked him through the window, he fell from the second story but he managed to flee into the woods behind the house. But Wolf did not care nearly as much as he had moments earlier. The realisation that he had almost killed Roberta, that he would have been a danger to the rest of them if they were unlucky enough to cross his path, it all thundered inside him like a storm.

"You've really got nothing to say?" Pius asked from behind him. "After everything, you're just going to stand there in silence. Fine, then. I'll speak. And you will listen. You endangered the life of Master Garcia by forcing him to hire Lagoon Company. You put us all at risk when Roberta came looking for you. And you almost pulled the trigger a few minutes ago. Must be nice to be so empty inside. Just like the rest of the soulless killers in that accursed city. That purgatorial prison. If you have a heart, Wolf, it must be as black as coal. Makes life easy, I imagine, not really caring if people live or die. Well…I hope you're happy with yourself. Because you really are one of the walking dead now." With that, he turned to go. But he didn't get very far.

"I was a normal person once," Wolf said solemnly. Pius halted. "I was just a regular guy without a care in the world. Unforeseen circumstances forced me onto the streets. That's when she found me. She took me in, kept me fed and warm. Offered me sanctuary. And the only thing she wanted in return was my service. Told me I'd have to do some morally questionable things. Sure, why not, I thought to myself. At that point, I'd lost faith just enough to compromise my own moral convictions. I agreed. It wasn't a seamless transition, I'll tell you that. It wasn't easy at the beginning. But eventually, I got used to it. Hell, I even started to like it." Neither of them had noticed Fabiola emerge from inside, but she came to a stop when she heard the assassin speaking.

"I wasn't born into this, not like the rest of them. I'm not like Revy or Roberta. I was thrown head first into the darkness and forced to make my own way. I didn't grow up wading through the shit like the others. But it still changed me. I'm a bit like Rock, in that respect. I can tell by looking at him every day that he's not cut out for this. He wasn't born into a life of crime. He didn't find his path here and grow into the role. He's lost, like someone dragged him here against his will. But he doesn't seem to want to go back, does he? He's content to stay here and play pirate for the rest of his life, or at least that's how it looks to me." Pius sighed deeply as he took in the killer's words. He was a priest, after all, and this was as good confession as he would get from the Wolf.

"I hate that person I was before. He was a pussy. I don't want to go back to being that guy. Rock seems to have forgotten about his past. It's like he fucking buried it in the darkest corner of his mind just to get away from it. But there's one difference between me and Rocky Boy. Now that I'm here, I'm enjoying the shit out of it. This is where I want to be, where I belong. Rock's pretending his world hasn't crumbled down around him just so he can cope. But whether I was born into this or not, I've come to thrive here. You think about that the next time you ask me about my sins."

Pius thought about retaliating, arguing against the assassin for one of many reasons. But he didn't have the energy to get into this now. And truthfully, the assassin had given Pius a lot of information to work with there, too much to sift through in one conversation. So he left it alone and headed inside to find Dutch. Fabiola lingered for a moment before deciding to join her family once more. She found Garcia in the forward cabin kneeling beside Roberta, bedridden. The boy looked up from his maid. His expression gave it away immediately, he was plagued by a plethora of emotions, the chief among them anger and sadness.

"He was going to kill her, Fabiola," he said, his voice shaky. Roberta had been close to death before, but this was different. Had they arrived a minute later, Wolf would have ended her life and they would have been left without one of the most beloved members of their family. It was some kind of tragic irony that one of their allies, someone who cared about Roberta immensely, was the one who had pinned her to the ground with his foot. The position she had been in was humiliating. That only added to the cruelty of the situation for Garcia. He placed his hand over Roberta's and their fingers intertwined. She was not conscious, but Garcia just felt the need to hold her, to make sure she was still there. "We let that man into our home. We trusted him, Fabiola. And he nearly took my Roberta from me. He's just like the rest of them. He belongs in that city." The harshness of Garcia's words caused Fabiola to flinch. She understood, naturally, and even agreed to an extent. But something was clearly different about her. She had always been the one to distrust Wolf, to inwardly protest to the fact that they allowed him to interact with them at all. And yet, now that her feelings had been justified by Wolf's actions, she seemed hesitant to judge him. She clearly wanted to say something, but she did not want to upset Garcia any further.

"Young Master, perhaps the situation is not so simple," she ventured. Garcia looked at her with a mix of confusion and irritation. But he respected Fabiola. He would hear her out, for now.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember when Roberta went missing? When she went after the Americans?"

"I do," the boy answered. He remembered what happened in Roanapur all too well. The images of some of the things he had seen were burned into his mind. "We were lucky to get her back."

"She was searching for revenge, Master Garcia," Fabiola continued. "As was the Wolf. Revenge against Ashur for…doing what he did. And for forcing his way into our home. Forgive me if it is too bold to say, but that man is not so different from our Roberta. They were both plagued by their pasts, weren't they? Roberta took up arms again like she once had in an attempt to enact what she saw as justice. Perhaps the same can be said for Mister Wolf." It was strange to see Fabiola vouch for the assassin, stranger still for her to compare him to Roberta. But Garcia was not convinced, nor would he be. His opinion of the Wolf had been destroyed completely. "All I'm saying is, we found it in our hearts to forgive Roberta for her sins. And in doing so, we allowed her to find peace."

"With Roberta, there was nothing to forgive," Garcia told her. "And she could never have peace. Why not?"

"Um…"

"Because the Wolf took her from me time and time again. Don't you see, Fabiola? It's been clear as day the whole time. We should never have trusted the Wolf. We would have been better off on our own."

(*)

"He snapped out of it."

"What?" asked Revy, her feet propped up on the bed she was on and a cigarette in her hand.

"He snapped out of it," Rock repeated, standing by the wall. He was deep in thought. "When he saw who it was, when he realised it was Roberta…he stopped."

"Of course he fucking did," Revy told him. "He looks at her the same way her 'Young Master' does-with those big fucking puppy dog eyes. If he didn't have blood on his hands, he'd probably have fucking proposed to her by now."

"But why?" Rock asked. He knew there was more to it that they didn't know. It didn't add up. "Why now? What was wrong with him that it took realising he'd just shot Roberta to bring him back?"

"It's my fault."

"Huh?" Revy grunted. They both came to attention when they heard the voice. It had come from the doorway. Within a few seconds, Roberta appeared, leaning on Garcia's shoulder for support. The maid had removed her robe and now wore her usual combat gear. It was strange to see her prosthetic leg in such a damaged state. They entered the room slowly and came to a stop a few feet from the foot of the bed.

"I spoke to Wolf before he left," Roberta told them. "I told him what Ashur said, about the woman who trained him. That's when he came after Ashur." Rock nodded. That certainly made sense. Back in Venezuela, they had neglected to mention Ashur's words to Wolf. They knew it would be a lot to process, but they never imagined it would send the assassin on a killing spree. And none of them imagined it would lead to what had transpired here earlier today.

"Goddammit," Revy groaned. "I thought he was done with all that shit."

"Just like you," Rock said thoughtfully, but he was not speaking to Revy. His eyes were on Roberta. The maid looked up to lock eyes with the Japanese man.

"Hm?"

"Just like you," he said once again. His eyes were wide and his heart was racing, but he needed to say this. His fear, even in the face of a seriously crippled Roberta who posed him no threat, was very real. "When you found out Garcia's father had been killed. You went after those men, you tracked them down, one by one. And you didn't stop." Roberta's cheeks flushed and she averted her gaze. Garcia, too, was clearly uncomfortable.

"So we got two Bloodhounds," Revy half-joked. "Great."

"Don't call her that!" Garcia snapped at her. The tension in the room seemed to rise noticeably.

"Give me a fucking break, kid," Revy spat, smirking maliciously as she dropped her cigarette, stomped on it and walked over to the Lovelaces. She stopped in front of them and placed her hands on her hips, bending over slightly to look Garcia in the eyes. "Your maid is a vicious little Bloodhound and you know it. Face it, 'Young Master', she's a cold-blooded killer and there ain't nothing you can do to change that, whether you like it or not." She stood up straight again and stared at Roberta. "Isn't that right, bitch?"

"Don't talk to her like that!" Garcia screamed. Revy was at the end of her tether, now. Her mouth curled downwards like a dog's and she leaned forwards confrontationally.

"Hey, listen here, 'Young Master!' You think she took up a weapon again when Wolfy came calling because she had to? Because she really cared all that much about putting a stop to the warzone that was Roanapur? Bullshit. She started killing people again because she fucking liked it, and you know it. Face it, you little brat. Your maid loves the smell of blood. It's just who she is."

"You take that back! Don't you dare talk to Roberta that way!"

"Go fuck yourself, kid."

"Revy," Rock interjected, beginning to walk forward. He was not content to see the Lovelaces badgered so intensely, especially not after the emotional day they had.

"What?" Revy asked, her voice lowering considerably.

"Just ease up, okay?" As he neared Revy, she did something she would probably come to regret later, something that surprised even Garcia and Roberta. She grabbed one of her Cutlasses and pointed it at Rock, stopping him in his tracks.

"Listen, Rock. I'm only going to say this once so you better not make me repeat myself; stay the fuck out of this. Because if you even think about saying another word, you'll hit the ground before you can even piss your own pants. Got it?" He did not answer. As Revy turned back to the others, they simply shot her a look of contempt before leaving the room altogether. They did not need this, especially not from her. "Hey! Where the fuck do you think you're going?! We're not finished!" They continued until they were out of sight. Revy kept her Cutlass trained on Rock and her gaze in the other direction where the Lovelaces had been. Then, she lowered the gun and exhaled. "Goddammit. She still reeks of gutter mud. That fucking stench…it ain't never leaving that crazy bitch."

(*)

Revy emerged as the sun began to rise, its orange glow sprinkling across the waters around them. Wolf was sitting in the Lagoon's crow's nest, his arms resting on the steel railing around him. His eyes were on the city, Roanapur. Revy went to the edge of the boat as it approached the large Buddha statue.

"I imagine you're glad to be back," Dutch's voice said in her ear. In all honesty, it was probably him who would be happy to get away from the Mekong River. He hated that place, they all knew that.

"I don't know which is worse, Dutch," Revy replied. "Out there where you don't know what way is up, or this goddamn city. Feels like walking to the hangman's noose coming back."

"Easy, Revy," he said gently. "After Garcia pays us, he'll be on his way and we can forget about all this. I know you probably want to get back to the apartment and get some sleep." Revy folded her arms.

"Yeah. Sleep…that sounds pretty good right about now."