Speeding towards the Empire Arms hotel in pursuit of solitude, Henry vocalized his distress within the confines of his vehicle while driving on an empty highway directing the single driver to Midtown.
"Fuck me," he groaned, tilting his head back to let his anguish come through fully. "This was a huge mistake."
Henry grew uncomfortable with each passing minute of silence. Not wanting to sit with his own thoughts during the ride home, he reached for the knob to turn on the radio. Delta Radio was the first to come up in the middle of a song. The music that played through the speakers mainly consisted of twangy rock and roll.
"No…" Henry muttered, switching it to Empire Bay Classics. This time, there were only commercials. Empire Central was the same case. With that, he switched it back to Delta, just to figure out if he was more in the mood to listen to music or commercials. After flipping between the only three radio channels in the entire city, he grew more frustrated. Listening to the radio felt wrong at this point. With a slight of temper, Henry shut off the radio, drowning the atmosphere in silence once more.
"God damn it," he sighed, leaning forward and grasping the wheel. "I fucked up so bad. I ordered a Sex on the Beach. One of the screamers groped me right in front of him. I told him I'm easy. Jesus fucking Christ, why did I tell him I'm easy !? Fuck!"
His hands slammed on the outer rim of the steering wheel as he damned himself for letting his guard down for just one moment. To let someone see over the wall he had built for himself would mean the end of his life or social status. With a mind spiraling out into panic, Henry came to premature conclusions much too quickly.
"I'm gonna leave him alone," he finished out his erratic thoughts, " Just pretend like nothing ever happened. Not gonna acknowledge him. Not gonna make eye contact; I'll be avoiding him completely. He doesn't deserve a sick fuck like me, anyhow. There's only one thing I need to worry about right now, and that's the operation."
Finally having made it off the highway and into Midtown, Henry returned to the Empire Arms hotel just in time for his fatigue to set in. He trudged through the revolving doors, past the vigilant receptionist, up the elevators, and lastly to his unit. After passing through the front door and locking up, he absent-mindedly went for the unopened bottle of pinot noir in his secret cabinet.
The sound of a squeaking cork echoed with the acoustics of the spacious living room. An antique wall clock ticked faintly after, turning over to two in the morning.
Several hours had passed, leading up to the next sunrise. The city had finally awoken, including Henry.
The mobster realized the night had passed mercilessly, not caring that he had put himself under the weather. With a string of light beaming directly into his tired eyes, he squeezed his eyelids shut and threw the thick comforter over his head.
Each time he went to bed, the night was spent with his demons. No matter how many times he visited the cat house, how many drinks he could consume, or how many packs of cigarettes he blazed through; nothing could fill the gaping pit within Henry. There was no escaping this lifestyle; instead, he took it one wake-up at a time. Every time he opened his eyes and headed out the door, was another day he would have to face doom.
"I shouldn't have drank that much pinot noir…" he groaned beneath the covers, rubbing the crust away from his sleepless eyes. "Today's gonna fucking suck…"
Suddenly, the telephone in his living room rang out ferociously, causing him to jump from the fabric protection. "Fucking hell, what now?" He rushed from the bedroom into his living room, silken bathrobe threshing behind him, and picked up the receiver. He raised it to the side of his head, rubbing the inner corners of his eyes as he took a deep breath in preparation.
"This is Henry." he spoke with an attempt to make himself sound more awake. Placing his hand on his forehead with impatience, he listened over the other end. There was a brief pause, to which Henry's bloodshot eyes widened in shock.
"Wait, slow down… Damn it, slow down Eddie!" Henry tried to argue. "Look, I didn't think… oh, god damn it." Whatever relaxation and recovery he had in store for the day was suddenly nullified due to the demands made over this particular one-sided conversation.
"Fine," he finished to the other raging individual over the phone, "I'll meet up with them in Lincoln Park and try to hash this shit out. Just, don't say anything to the other guys, okay? I'm counting on this one, Eddie." Henry hung up the phone, gritting his teeth for a moment before turning to his couch. He grabbed one of the throw pillows and pressed it against his face, emitting an anguished scream through the stuffed fabric.
" Fuuuuuuuuuuck! " he muffled his vocalized torment.
Once his exertion of frustration was complete, he placed the pillow back in its corresponding location. He wandered into his bathroom, only to look himself in the mirror. He couldn't believe how terrible he looked, his natural grace sullied from the previous night of poor choices.
"Okay, Henry. Today's the day; Carlo found out about your operation. Now you've gotta fix this." He shook his head, visibly pissed with himself. "Why did you have to be so goddamn careless?" Henry reprimanded himself as he polished up his appearance from head to toe.
After his wardrobe had been assembled, he started towards the phone again and dialed out another number. The line rang for a moment, and Vito's tired voice could be heard.
"Vito, we have a situation." Henry explained. "Carlo found out about our operation. You and Joe need to meet me at Lincoln Park in an hour. Get a hold of him as soon as we hang up. And make sure our other friend stays put. We don't want any funny business." The conversation ended, sending Henry directly out the door towards his destination.
Seemingly hitting every red light, he contemplated hitting the gas pedal and speeding out of the city as fast and as far as he could. He had no actual destination in mind, but one thing was for sure; in these thoughts, he wasn't alone.
On his way towards the park, he couldn't stop dodging thoughts centered around Leon. They were almost harder to evade than a bullet from any gun. The guilt he felt in exposing him to a life of secrecy and crookedness poured in, further cementing the urge to avoid the younger man at every turn.
Being able to have that jubilant, blond bombshell with him in the passenger seat while he sped away towards the mountains - or the beach - was a dream to Henry. Staring back with those intense blue eyes, a warm smile of approval on his young features, causing all of the grief that tarnished his faith to vanish. Henry felt his heart flutter momentarily, vision glazed over as he sat for what felt like minutes at this stop light.
There was a sudden shift in his thought process, throwing him on a more optimistic path. If he could make things right with Carlo, sparing Vito and Joe from any harm, and keeping the peace between himself and the rest of the Falcone family - all while paying Bruno's hefty loan by the end of the week - he would set out to fulfill a personal goal.
"I think I'm gonna try talking to him again…" Henry spoke under his breath. "...hopefully he and I can at least be friends."
This time around, he would try to get to know him without the grit of his lifestyle standing in the way. He would need to do so with finesse, as his Omerta loomed over him like a murderous shadow, ready to strike if he slipped up even once. Here, he believed he had another chance to make a good impression.
He stroked the chrome with his thumbs to ground himself before stopping the vehicle just outside the recreational area. There was a moment where he sat in the driver seat, the steering wheel beneath his grasp. Upon exiting its metallic confines, he looked around with the paranoia needed to determine if he'd been followed. The sun was high and reflected off of the metal trim on the outside of his car, causing him to squint momentarily before walking off.
Lincoln Park was lightly populated on this day, which was uncanny as the weather had been beautiful. There was no reason for this place to be so bereft of visitors. Henry traversed down the bleached sidewalk, keeping his posture straight and eyes forward. He searched for an open area to stand, making himself visible to Vito and Joe upon their arrival.
Adjusting his heavily-patterned tie out of nervousness, he cleared his throat and found a nice empty area where no wandering eyes could spot him. He stood with his hands in his pants pockets in an attempt to appear casual, despite his threatening demeanor. The last thing he needed was to attract attention from anyone else besides Vito and Joe.
However, that wasn't the only attention Henry drew to himself. Unbeknownst to the preoccupied mobster, danger lurked around each corner of the sunny patch of land.
Leon had woken up hours earlier, starving for breakfast and physical stimulation. He arose from the couch and watched as the impression in the cushions slowly disappeared. He worked his way towards the kitchen, but not before peaking into Joe's sleeping quarters to make sure he still didn't have company. Seeing as how the husky Italian was wrapped in his comforter like a human burrito, Leon swiftly tip-toed towards the other door.
Upon successful infiltration, he pulled open the refrigerator door. Several beers were absent from last night's camaraderie, but he noticed something else as well. He noticed a plate of sandwiches on the top rack. There were so many pieces diagonally cut with unknown meats and cheeses stacked in the middle of the bread. He took one and wolfed it down without regard for the flavor, even though it was a bit salty.
"Now that breakfast is out of the way," Leon told himself, "it's time to get the blood pumping!" Leon, in his spirited nature, exited Joe's apartment only to run several laps around the building. The vampire hunter wasn't about to succumb to the gluttonous comforts of the twentieth century; Leon made an effort to keep his mind and abilities sharp.
Leon had found many obstacles to jump over during his run, passageways to maneuver through, and other creative ways to fortify himself. He traced the entire block, as well as the second and third one over, almost having made it into downtown with the distance he ran. Judging eyes followed him everywhere he went, and he could hear snide comments pass by like the wind against his ears. He ran undoubtedly while memorizing his path to and from Joe's apartment.
As the thick beads of sweat formed on Leon's brow, he noticed his bangs being matted to his forehead, and combed his fingers through the locks to push them back against the rest of his hair. His eyes were both exposed, surroundings reflecting off his irises, which were seemingly bluer than the sky itself.
This had gone on for most of the morning, leaving the young man sodden with sweat. With a flushed face and bright eyes, he made it back to Joe's apartment. He kept his pace quick and steady, allowing his heart rate to gradually drop without the creeping presence of fatigue.
On his way up the stairs, he unexpectedly crossed paths with the complex's housekeeper; an elderly woman with greying red hair, face aged with years of toil and temperament. She must have foreseen Leon's path to Joe's apartment, as she scowled at him.
"Tell that Barbaro," she growled, "that he needs to check his fucking mail. And stop leaving used condoms in the hallway! This isn't a dirty frat house, for cryin' out loud!"
Leon awkwardly nodded, giving a weak chuckle before heading back into Joe's unit. He shut the door behind him, his eyebrows still creased with confusion from that jolting encounter. Nonetheless, he stripped in the bathroom and took another shower, keeping the temperature at a cooler setting. It wasn't ice cold, but it still shocked him at first. Moments passed before he rested into the current, allowing every droplet to wash away the salt from his pores and follicles.
Swiftly turning the faucets, he stepped from the tub and dried himself head to toe with the same towel from the night before. Placing fresh clothes on his figure - while maintaining his casual and comfortable style - he looked into the mist-ridden mirror to appreciate his reflection.
"I may be in a new era," he spoke to himself with pep, "trapped here with my nemesis - but I'm still alive, surrounded by new friends. Friends who believe me, believe in me, and are willing to help. As unorthodox as it's all been, I'm eternally grateful for everything that has happened so far."
After expressing his thankfulness in privacy, he exited the bathroom, only to see Joe meandering around the living room in his boxers and a white tank top. The husky male yawned and scratched his scalp, ridden with wild, black hair. He noticed Leon standing before the bathroom door with slightly dampened hair.
"Early bird gets the worm, ay?" Joe teased. "What're you doing up this early on a Saturday?"
"I went for a run." Leon answered. "I'm not the type to sleep in. No judgement whatsoever. The morning is when I feel more inclined to exercise, as it starts my day with even blood flow and a clear mind."
"Didn't know you were a health nut." Joe rolled his eyes. "Did you eat anything yet?"
"One of those… things. In the refrigerator." Leon answered. "The bread layered with meat and cheese. What do you call those?"
"Sandwiches." Joe laughed. "Jesus, you didn't have sandwiches back in the medieval ages? How the fuck did you live?"
"Is that what we're calling my era now?" Leon retorted, using finger quotes. "The medieval ages ?"
"Make you feel old or somethin'?" Joe cocked an eyebrow sarcastically at his friend.
"No," Leon answered dryly, " ancient ."
The two shared a good laugh until a loud metallic ringing startled Leon in his place. He turned around erratically to see where the source of the noise was coming from. It was so obnoxious and urgent, echoing about in that very room with very little space to retreat.
"What's happening?" Leon gasped, unfamiliar with this modern sound.
Joe's face twisted with seriousness as he gently nudged Leon out of the way to reach for the ringing object. A small, plastic console with a detachable part hung by a chord was what unleashed this terrible sound, to which Joe picked up one of the parts to bring it to his ear. The ringing ended, but Joe began to speak.
"It's Joe." He started. Suddenly, his expression turned from bleak seriousness to surprise. "What's going on, Vito? ...huh? Wait, what did Henry tell you? ...oh shit."
Leon blinked, and stepped closer to Joe. He found this new piece of technology to be perplexing, and wondered why he could hear Vito speaking through the piece held to Joe's ear. The ability to have a conversation while not standing before another person was a concept Leon was in awe of.
"Where did he want us to meet?" Joe asked. Leon barely caught the name of a location - a place called Lincoln Park - before Joe turned around to shoo him away with an annoyed look on his features. Leon backed away with his hands up in defense, not wanting to further offend the other man with his intrusion.
"I'm heading there now." Joe finished as he slammed down the receiving end of the device. "Fuck!"
"What is this strange device that's able to transmit voices back and forth?" Leon pointed to the object Joe had just used.
"That's a phone." Joe answered, before shoving past again to gather an outfit from his closet. Hurriedly, he got dressed, not even withdrawing himself to another room to do it. Leon turned around to give his friend some vague form of privacy.
Even as he assembled his wardrobe, Joe continued to speak. "I need you to stay here and watch the place. No funny business. I'll be back in about a couple of hours. If anyone knocks, don't fuckin' answer. As far as people know, I'm not home, and neither are you."
"For the exception of the woman in the hallway." Leon added. "By the way, what are condoms ?"
"I'll explain later." Joe threw on his bulky leather jacket over a red Hawaiian shirt. "I gotta go. Remember what I said."
With that, Joe headed out the door, locking up behind him. Leon stared at the doorknob, feeling uneasy. He remembered hearing Henry's name spoken by Vito over the phone, and noted the serious tone in the other man's voice.
"Lincoln Park…" Leon muttered to himself. He looked back at the rest of the apartment, contemplating his existence in this space. The only sound that accompanied this decisive moment was the faucet dripping from the bathroom in which he had recently showered.
Not skipping a beat, Leon silently defied the order Joe had just given him moments before leaving. His instincts told him that something was about to threaten the lives of his friends, and couldn't obey Joe and stay put in the dingy apartment in good conscience. He would feel guilty if anything bad were to happen to any one of his new friends; if they became angry with him after the fact, it would be worth it to make sure the three men were safe.
This strong gut feeling pulled Leon towards the door, but then paused. "If I leave through here, Joe's domain would no longer be secure. I don't have a key to lock up. There must be some other way out of here."
Upon further inspection of this domicile, he noticed a window in the kitchen, which overlooked a metallic staircase leading down the side of the apartment. If he recalled correctly, Joe had referred to this as the "fire escape."
Leon unlatched the window, and slid it up until it couldn't go further. He stuck one leg out onto the rickety balcony, swung his head below the window frame, and pulled the other leg through. He reached in to flip the latch before he slid the window shut, the apartment now fully secure. Giving the glass a push to make sure it had locked completely, Leon gave a nod of approval and proceeded down the staircase with care.
Making it to the bottom, he scaled the wall to keep himself from being seen from the alleyway. Inching closer to the sidewalk, he caught a glimpse of Joe's car speeding by, and quickly took cover behind a stack of crates. Once the coast was clear, he ran out of the alleyway, and started to look around erratically.
"Lincoln Park." he said aloud, and proceeded down the sidewalk in the same direction he saw Joe heading. Occasionally, he stopped to ask people for directions to this fateful location, and was treated more graciously than he was during his search for the hotel.
Leon's fast-paced walk suddenly turned into a jog, and when the panic started to set in, his jog broke into a sprint. Strangely enough, he lost not a single ounce of stamina along the way.
"So, this is Lincoln Park…" Leon said quietly to himself, eyes darting about for any sign of his friends among the trimmed greenery. "Henry, where are you?"
He was surprised to see no sign of the others, but after walking around the park vigilantly for some odd minutes, he finally spotted Henry standing in plain view. He could sense an air of worry radiating from the man, despite his professional appearance. Leon had to wonder what was going on with him, and why he'd summoned Vito and Joe so quickly to the chosen location.
As he stepped closer in Henry's direction, he continued to keep a lookout. Something felt strange, and his need to protect tried to overrun his capability with being inconspicuous. What set Leon apart from the rest of his fellow clergymen was his ability to spot enemies quickly from afar. Leon's time in the crusades forged these skills, but it was hunting vampires that truly sharpened his abilities.
He quickly noticed these strange men scattered around the park, taking on similar outfits and demeanor, similar to the way doppelgangers took form. The hunter picked out a total of four perpetrators that gave shape to this parameter.
Leon took mental note of these men, whose gazes zeroed in on one constant. Leon traced the path their eyes formed, and came to the realization that their sights had been set on a defenseless Henry. He appeared to be lonesomely distracted by his own anxieties, completely unaware of how exposed he was to this charged attack.
One of the men gave a nod to a colleague several feet away, who reengaged himself back to Henry. As the formation began to move in on the solitary man, Leon inched closer as well, tailing them with just enough distance to not expose himself.
He traced the path of the man who came closest to Henry. With one swift movement, he subdued him in a headlock, smothering his airways and applying pressure to the blood vessels until he was unconscious. As he laid him down into one of the bushes, Leon noticed a shining metallic weapon fastened against his belt; it appeared to be a butcher's tool fixed with a sharp blade and almost rectangular body. His expression dimmed, knowing he had to act fast before this got out of hand.
The second man began his approach as Henry's back was still turned. Luckily, there was a tall tree with a thick trunk between Henry and the suspect. Using this to his advantage, Leon appeared before his friend's would-be killer, causing the man to gasp before he was yanked away from plain view. Before he could yell out for his other henchmen, Leon knocked him out with a swift chop to the carotid artery. His body hit the ground, to which the hunter propped him up against a towering tree, making him appear as a sleeping visitor.
The third man pivoted his body in confusion as to where the other assailants may have gone. Nonetheless, he made his mark against the lone mobster and began pacing towards him with a hand fixed firmly upon his cleaver. Leon started towards the stranger, scaling the bushes in stealth. At the perfect opportunity, he lunged out from the bushes and grabbed the third assailant by his jacket, pulling him into the foliage. There, he met a devastating blow to the jaw, causing an immediate blackout.
Henry heard the struggles, and turned around to see what was going on. He walked over and peered into the bushes only to see an unconscious man lying on the ground. His brow furrowed as he recognized this person, but that look of wonder turned into a look of fearful realization.
"A Triad?" he thought aloud. "Why would the Triads be here in the park, and why are they sleeping in the bushes? What the fuck is going on?"
Henry jumped when he heard a yelp from a short distance, and turned around to catch a glimpse of an unexpected Leon striking one of the Triads with an elbow drop to the middle of his spine, knocking the wind out of him. His victim fell to the concrete like a sack of flour, to which Leon began dragging away the incapacitated individual by his ankles effortlessly. The vampire hunter glanced over to Henry in a cautionary manner, but made eye contact on accident despite his careful execution.
"Leon…?" Henry's eyes widened in dismay.
"Henry, I…" Leon dropped the man's ankles, and began stammering, completely forgetting about the human writhing below his feet.
"What the fuck are you doing here!?" Henry approached him while his astonishment twisted into protective anger. "You can't be here! You need to go! Now! "
"I'm not leaving you here alone, Henry." Leon argued, regaining his confidence. "You're in danger! If anyone needs to leave, it's you ."
"What the hell do you mean danger ?" Henry's confused feelings towards Leon intensified, as the man haphazardly placed himself in his affairs. As he was furious with the current event, he'd also been impressed by the young man's ability to easily disregard risk.
Nonetheless, his automatic reaction to stress surfaced, causing him to become hostile once more. "I'm here on a job, okay? It's none of your business and should remain that way. I don't need you here, okay?"
"You do need me!" Leon fought back, unable to detect that Henry was just trying to push him away out of doubt.
Henry felt his chest tighten, a hot numbness creeping down his arms. He shut his eyes and inhaled sharply, trying not to allow the feverish emotions to rise to the surface. Normally, when he chose this tone, his subordinates backed down without question, and that was it. It had been years since Henry had to have an argument like this, where someone else defied his frustrations; this caused an ascent in familiar feelings that he struggled to suppress.
"I can't believe you would do something so stupid like this," Henry continued in disbelief, turning away to avoid Leon seeing him nearly fall apart. He tried to revert back to the mean nature he had displayed at the Maltese Falcon during their first encounter. This time, the earth shifted beneath his feet as he scolded the other. "I mean, really, what the fuck is wrong with-"
"HENRY, LOOK OUT!" Leon shouted, just as another Triad came up from behind Henry, his arm raised in the air with a butcher's blade grasped tightly in his grip. Henry spun around to block the attack, but in his last-minute attempt, the assailant's blade sliced into his forearm.
"OW! FUCK!" he cried out when the sharpened steel entered his flesh, erratic eyes meeting those of his attempted assassin. Realizing what had just happened, his defenses rose, and he struck his attacker in the diaphragm to disarm him with ease.
"There's more!?" Leon gasped in disbelief when he knew his count was off. As he was just coming to accept that there may have been more attackers than he'd anticipated, a rogue Triad came up from behind the hunter with a choke hold. This was deemed unsuccessful as Leon put all his force into swinging the man over his shoulder and onto his back. Once the enemy made contact with the flat concrete, he gasped dramatically, eyeballs bulging slightly out of their sockets. Leon stood over the gasping individual, crossing his arms fiendishly before returning his attention to a wounded Henry.
"What was that now?" Leon started. "About not needing me?"
"Shut up." Henry growled, lifting a meat cleaver off the ground and brandishing it with a threatening air. "This doesn't make things any better!"
Out of nowhere, a blade came swinging towards the two gentlemen, only there was no one behind it. The two noticed the meat cleaver swinging towards them in the perfect nick of time, and dodged its path. Both of them snapped their glances over in the direction of the weapon, which had clattered onto the ground. Its previously sharpened edge was now damaged from its impact with the pavement.
Leon's eyes averted to another Triad about ten feet away, now unarmed as he'd used his only weapon to launch one final attack from afar. Their eyes were locked for a moment before the final gang member turned on his heel to scramble away like a coward.
"Stay back." Leon motioned for Henry to give him space, allowing the Vampire Killer to uncoil at his feet. Henry's gaze lowered to the archaic weapon , and then back up to a determined Leon.
He swung his arm back, and swiftly projected the whip's length towards the scurrying perpetrator. When the whip cracked against his shins, he screamed and met his fate on the concrete below his stride.
The hunter kept a serious demeanor as he approached the incapacitated gangster. All of his other teammates were gone, leaving him to face the hunter's wrath alone. As he rolled over onto his back, he watched as Leon gathered the whip back into a coil before leaning over him. The man breathed heavily with his eyes peering up at the vengeful hunter, a cocky smirk plastering his features. This was cut short when his gaze darted downwards to witness something strange unfold.
The earth beneath Leon's feet had sprouted with these bright, divine flames. His face remained still as the expression of his potential victim twisted from condescension to immense fear when he saw the flames. Leon fed into his terror, gaining strength from the fear emitted from the one who made an attempt at his friend's life.
Henry, who was still standing back in his own defense, started in awe at the sight.
Leon knelt down and gripped the man by his shirt, lifting him up to eye level, his feet hovering just an inch off the ground given his shorter stature. He struggled, gripping Leon's forearm to try and break free, but the hunter did not budge. Instead, he stared into the man's horrified eyes and began to speak with a low, ill-boding voice.
"Tell the others," Leon threatened, "that they've crossed paths with the wrong individual. I will destroy the next person who dares to lay a blade against myself or my friends again, starting with you."
The man in his grasp started to squirm and beg. Leon glanced down to see a dark spot forming over the front of his trousers. Deeming his incontinence as a symbol of understanding, Leon dropped him back into a trembling heap, and allowed the man to run away crying.
"He pissed himself." Henry noticed. He looked towards the ground again, only to notice the flames dying down beneath Leon's feet.
"Henry." Leon started with a heroic coldness in his tone. "Are you all right?"
Moments passed before the mobster could answer. "Yeah." Henry choked out, grasping the bloodied wound on his forearm. Bright threads of blood could be seen trickling over the knuckles and fingers of his unaffected hand. "I'm cut pretty fuckin' bad, but other than that… I'm okay."
"Then let's go." Leon placed his whip securely beneath his jacket once more. "I'll find you a doctor."
"I know a guy." Henry offered up his knowledge. "He lives in Highbook. We'll take my car, but we have to hurry and get the fuck out of here before the cops show up. Too many witnesses, y'know?"
"I understand." Leon's eyes remained forward, the courage in his voice refusing to die down. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he was led to the vehicle. "Do you think Vito and Joe will still arrive?"
"If they do," Henry replied, "they're gonna have to deal with the cops roaming the place. They're smart; they'll know what's going on and leave as soon as possible before finding us. Those guys might be a little inexperienced, but they know a fucked up situation when they see it."
Leon lowered his head with recognition. Henry started the ignition, but winced each time he had to move his arm. "Ow, ow… this hurts so fucking bad." He gripped the lacerated area, his brow creasing as the severed nerve endings burned and stung.
"Do you need me to assist you?" Leon asked, an air of concern breaking through his emboldened, post-combat voice.
"I'll be okay." Henry was beginning to sweat, and they hadn't even departed yet.
"I don't believe it's in our best interest for you to drive while incapacitated." Leon replied, questioning how Henry would be able to drive with such an injury affecting him. He saw how the other man already struggled to navigate out of the slanted parking lot.
"I said," Henry repeated, more agitated, " I'll be okay ." Not wanting to attract more worry from Leon, he insisted on his own well-being. "El Greco's just gonna stitch and bandage me up. We'll be on our merry way after that."
Leon pressed his lips together to keep another argumentative word from slipping out. Instead, he was attentive to Henry's every movement; every wince, grunt, or sharp inhale. The worse these motions became, and the more blood that poured from his flesh, the more Leon's stomach twisted with worry. Sure, Henry's deep wound could have been easily avoided, but the hunter couldn't bring himself to think of what the alternative would have been had he not stepped in defiantly.
Henry, on the other hand, felt pathetic at the fact Leon had to be the one to save him. At the same time, he wondered what caused the young man to do what he did. He was fond of the man's big heart and selfless nature, but he had the kind of courage that Henry was afraid of. Leon proved that he would give up everything just to naively save the life of a man who was born to die.
This last thought made Henry almost graze a fire hydrant on the side of the road on his way to El Greco's mansion.