Rock dragged himself up the grimy stairs of the cheap apartment the cops had set him up with. His feet felt about fifty pounds too heavy. His footfalls echoed along the walls.

"Clump, clump, clump."

He had reported back to the police station as ordered, after helping Dutch and Revy in the alley. When he'd arrived, Watsup had dragged him into his office to bellow at him like a wounded hippo. The storm of yelling and insults had continued for at least thirty minutes, though to Rock it seemed like hours. Every time he tried to speak, Watsup had shouted him down. He'd left the office with a pounding headache and a faint feeling of nausea. Watsup's voice still rang in his ears with every echoing footfall.

"Goody two-shoes… Fuck up what we got..."

Unable to keep climbing he paused, tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and breathed. Watsup's last line had hit hardest.

"The only fucking reason you're not out on your ass right now is because it took us a damn year to get you. But disobey my orders again, and I'll shove my nightstick so far up your ass you'll taste it! Now get out!"

Rock swayed, holding the bannister for balance. Memories of his miserable office existence back in Japan flooded back into his mind. Being verbally abused by his old bosses had certainly never been pleasant, but those were tea parties compared to Watsup. In Japan, Rock had had the comfort of knowing that if things got too crazy he could call the cops for help. Here, if the cops turned on him, he had nothing and no one.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to keep climbing.

He supposed he shouldn't have been so naive. He'd been so excited about his new career path he had forgotten what this city was. This was Roanapur. For the right price you could kill almost anyone and do almost anything. Watsup was pissed because, beyond the whole power dynamic, Rocks' little rescue mission had cost his department money, and threatened their overall cash flow.

From a leaky pipe somewhere overhead a drop of dirty water landed on his shoulder. It reminded him of the speech Revy had given him in the submarine so long ago.

"Their value," her voice bubbled up from inside his head. "Will be determined by the one thing everyone agrees on. And that's money. The rest of it is just a bunch of sentimental bullshit."

Revy

He came to the first landing and stopped to catch his breath. He leaned over the bannister to relieve some of the weight from his legs and took a moment to think.

He had saved her life.

She had been on the ground. He'd checked for breath, found none, did CPR, as he'd practiced so often, and then she breathed again. He had made her breathe again. That faint bit of wind that came from her lips was the difference between life and death, and he had made it happen.

He smiled as he felt some of the strength return to his body.

No. Some things were worth more than money.

What would Revy say to Watsup in his place? Probably something like, 'fuck off, asshole. I'm just doing my job.'

He chuckled. He loved that attitude. Or, more precisely, he was jealous of it. If he had her strength he could tell Watsup to shove his little schemes up his ass. He didn't care about the money, he'd be saving as many people as he could, just as he had raised his right hand and sworn to.

Another dirty drop landed on his head and brought him back to reality. He wasn't Revy. He needed resources to do his job, however compromised it might be. If he stood up to Watsup he'd be fired, and all the time and money he'd spent getting licensed would be for nothing.

He felt something hot and bitter rise up in the back of his throat but he swallowed down. No room for tears in Roanapur. He sighed, turned, and kept climbing the stairs.

Maybe he should go and see the old crew? Dutch and Benny might be happy to see him, especially after today. They could grab a drink and catch up on old times. He wanted people he could play a round of cards or darts with. He wanted people he felt respected by. He wanted, and he was almost ashamed to admit it, friends. Actual friends who had his back. That was what he'd given up to chase this little dream.

He reached his door and fumbled for the key. If he hadn't been so consumed with self-loathing he might have noticed it was already unlocked.

He opened his door and stumbled in. He flicked on the light, hung his bag, and made his way to the fridge for a glass of something strong.

He was halfway through his bacardi when he heard a familiar voice.

"So, you came back."

Rock started and turned around.

Revy was sitting in the middle of his sofa. She must have been waiting in the dark for him to arrive. Her left arm was resting on her knee. Her gun was in her hand.

Rock instantly recognized the look on her face, and felt his heart rate triple.

"H-hey Revy. How's it going?"

She leapt off the couch with the speed of a viper, grabbed the front of his shirt, and slammed him into the wall. His cup shattered on the floor as he felt the muzzle of her gun in his ribs.

"Months!" she bellowed, her face inches from his. "I went to your place the night you left because I couldn't fucking believe it! We saved your ass! We took you in! I went to fucking Japan and took a fucking sword through the leg for you! And after all that you just up and fuck off?!"

She took a moment to catch her breath. Rock said nothing.

"All the ass-pits in the world to go to," she hissed, the veins throbbing in her forehead. "And yet ya come back to mine. Think fast, asshole. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't put a bullet in ya."

Rock looked at her for a moment. Her eyes were filled with anger, and behind the anger was pain.

Rock took a deep breath.

"Revy," he began, his voice full of sympathy and understanding.

"Fuck you," she spat, but dropped her gaze to his chest.

Rock took another breath.

"Revy, I'm sorry."

She put her gun to his temple and clicked back the hammer.

"I dare you to say that again," she hissed.

Rock swallowed.

"Listen, if I had told you my plan, what would you have done? If I had said I was going to go study medicine, what would you have said to me?"

"You're a fucking moron," she answered.

"Yeah! No shit!"

She glared at him. Rock's mind raced as he thought of what to say next, but suddenly he noticed something else.

"Revy, your eyes."

"Huh?" she asked.

"One of your pupils is dilated," Rock continued, his gaze flitting between them. Sure enough, the black spot in the center of her right iris was measurably larger than her left. "Did you just come from the hospital?"

Without warning she twisted away from him. She took three certain steps towards his door before listing to the side and catching herself on the counter.

"Fuck," she whispered as she raised the hand still holding the gun to her face. "My fuckin' head. Ow."

Suddenly, Rock had an idea. He had heard an explosion before getting to them earlier, and he had found her unconscious. The force of the blast could have caused her brain to bounce off the insides of her skull: a concussion. Different size pupils were one possible symptom. If so, it was a miracle she could walk, probably pure adrenaline, but if that soft tissue didn't heal properly…

Office boy Rock knew how dangerous it was to approach Revy in this state, but paramedic Rock didn't give a rat's ass.

He crossed the room and collected her in his arms.

"Get off of me," she menaced.

"No," he answered.

She twisted in his grip hard and fast.

Rock could not have explained, even to himself, why he did what he did next. He would only have said it was exceedingly stupid. But as she twisted her snarling face towards his, he kissed her.

She froze, seemingly in shock. He held her and pressed his lips to hers, knowing full-well he had bet his life on this gamble.

After a few seconds, he felt her body relax.

"Fuck," she whispered as they broke apart. "Fuck, Rock. Just… fuck you."

Her eyes rolled back. Rock felt her full weight fall into his arms. Her gun clattered to the floor as her head lulled backwards, mouth open.

"Revy?" Rock called and shook her. "Revy?!"

No response.

Terrified, Rock hoisted her up and carried her to his couch.

He lay her down gently and held his hand over her mouth.

Breath!

He felt her neck for her pulse and was relieved to find it stable. But he knew she wasn't safe yet.

Rock knew most movies and TV shows treated unconsciousness like a nap. Some poor schmuck might take a baseball bat to the head, then wake up not ten minutes later with a headache but none the worse for wear. It was a convenient plot device, he supposed, it was also utter bullshit. Rock knew that even now Revy could be losing her ability to walk.

His brain cycled through his list of non-options.

His first thought was of his motorcycle. If he strapped her to the backseat he could get her to the hospital. But the bike was locked in the station lot a quarter of a mile away. No use to him whatsoever.

There were no ambulances to call.

The cops wouldn't help.

He didn't have the number for a cab.

Knocking on doors to beg for help would probably get him shot.

Sweat trickled down his face as he looked at her face. The nightmare scenario was that her brain had ruptured and was bleeding into her skull. Without immediate surgery, that meant death.

"Think," he snarled to himself desperately. "Think!"

Suddenly, it clicked. He dug his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number he knew from memory.

"Hello?" Bennys' voice answered from the Lagoon office.

"Benny? It's Rock!"

"Rock!" Benny exclaimed, and Rock noted that he sounded very glad. "How's it going?"

"Not good," Rock answered. "Revy's at my place and she's unconscious. I need your car. Now!"

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

"Uh, I'd let you borrow it, Rock. But it died when we got back to the office. Bullet damage, probably. Anyway, it won't start."

"Fuck!" Rock swore, but suddenly he heard a deep voice in the background on the other end of the line.

"Yeah! It's Rock," Benny said, though seemingly not into the phone. "He says that Revy's at his place and she's not doing so great."

More background.

"Okay. Rock? Here's Dutch," Benny said.

A split-second later and Dutch was on the line.

"Rock," Dutch said. His tone was harder to read than Benny's, but Rock could have sworn he detected a trace of happiness under Dutch's well-practiced cool. "I hear Revy's there?"

"Yeah," Rock answered. "And she's unconscious. Listen, did they do any tests at the hospital?"

"Yeah," Dutch answered. "A bunch of them. They got her a CT scan right away."

Rock's heart leapt.

"Great! Did you get the results?"

"Concussion," Dutch reported.

"Anything else?" Rock pressed. "Intracranial hemorrhage maybe?"

"Nnnnnno," Dutch answered. "Just concussion."

"Okay," Rock sighed with relief. "Okay. Well, that's something, but she really needs the hospital again. Do you have another car there?"

"No," Dutch answered. "Sorry, Rock."

Rock sighed.

"Okay. Well, I can monitor her here. If she wakes up, I'll call you. By the way, how'd she get to my place?"

"Well, when she came to, we told her what happened. She nearly jumped out a window when we told her about you. Said we were lying. I told her she could go to the Salon de Licorne room 304 if she wanted proof. Then she ran out."

Rock shrugged but nodded. This was a good sign. Whatever damage Revy's brain had taken, it still had the ability to receive, process, and act on information.

"Okay," Rock answered. "Okay. Thank you, Dutch. How are you doing?"

"Broken arm," Dutch reported. "I lost a lot of blood too. They gave me a transfusion. Doc says if I'd lost any more I'd be dead. I owe you one, Rock."

Rock shook his head but smiled all the same.

"You don't owe me anything, Dutch. I was just doing my job. What's your prognosis?"

"Cast," Dutch answered. "Have to wear it for about a month. After that, they'll check me out again. With me and Revy out of action my boat's gonna be docked for a while. No business, but that's how it goes."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Dutch. I hope you get better soon."

"Me too," Dutch answered. "So, what about Revy?"

Rock looked at her again. She was still breathing. It was only now he noticed her bandaged hand.

"I don't know. It depends on the extent of the damage. What happened today?"

Dutch relayed the story. They'd gone to collect on a debt and got jumped. They killed almost all their assailants but one of them dropped a grenade from a window overhead. Dutch had a broken arm, and Revy was knocked out. When he got to the end, Rock nodded.

"Okay. Well you were both incredibly lucky, for what it's worth. There's nothing we can do now but watch and wait. If she wakes up by tomorrow she should be okay, but either way she needs the hospital again."

"Ya think so, huh?" Dutch pressed.

Rock nodded.

"Yeah. She could be in a coma right now for all I know."

"What's your best guess on a prognosis?"

"At minimum, she'll need rest. I'd say at least a week. She won't need to be in the hospital the whole time, but she should get another CT scan before she goes back to work."

"Okay," Dutch answered. "For what it's worth, you're a real life-saver, no pun intended."

Rock snorted.

"Thank you, Dutch. Get some rest. I'll call you when Revy wakes up."

"Thanks," Dutch answered. "Before that though, you wanna explain how you got that uniform we saw you in?"

Rock sighed.

"It's a long story, Dutch. The short version is that I earned it. I'm a licensed paramedic now, and I'm working for the Roanapur police as their medic."

Dutch whistled.

"Quite the career change. Any reason for it?"

"It was nothing personal, Dutch. I just felt like I needed a change. That's all. I can explain more later if you want."

"Alright," Dutch answered. "Well we're not going anywhere for a while. You wanna drop by, let me know."

Rock smiled. Even this brief exchange with Dutch made him feel a million times better. It was like the first time they'd met all over again.

"I will, Dutch. Have a good night."

"Night," Dutch answered.

Rock hung up and looked at Revy again. Her ponytail was splayed out over his sofa pillow. Her chest was rising and falling gently. She looked so peaceful this way.

He smiled.

"Missed you too, Revy."

With nothing else he could do Rock went to his closet and retrieved a spare blanket. He spread it over her. Then he wetted down a rag and gently sponged her forehead before draping it over her eyes.

As he watched she smiled and seemed to settle into the makeshift bed.

"Revy?" He asked and reached out his hand to her. She groaned and turned away. Rock sighed. This was looking more and more like regular sleep now. Either way, it was better to let her wake up naturally.

He went back to his bathroom and stripped off his uniform. After dutifully showering and brushing his teeth, he retrieved his own blanket and pillow and settled himself into a chair next to her. No way he was leaving her alone tonight.


Something wet was over her eyes. She blinked and pulled it off. Fuck, her hand was heavy. Someone had put a blanket over her too. She was laying on a couch in a strange apartment. It was dark. Shadows on the ceiling and walls. Her head ached.

"Fuck," she muttered, as she raised her hand to her face.

Something stirred not far away.

Rock sat up in his chair and blinked at her.

"Revy?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

She tried to sit up, but it made her head spin. Rock got up and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Shh," he whispered. "Shh, Revy, you've had a concussion. You need to lie down."

"F-fuck you," she said, but allowed him to gently push her back onto the couch. Her head still felt like crap anyway.

Rock pulled his chair closer.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

She rubbed her eyes.

"My head feels like fuckin' Baghdad. Got any aspirin?"

"No aspirin," Rock answered, standing up. "Tylenol. Aspirin's a blood thinner."

He walked away and returned with a medicine bottle and glass of water.

He set the glass down on the coffee table and popped out two pills, which he passed to her. She swallowed them both but waved away the water. She'd never needed a chaser for pills.

"You need to stay hydrated," Rock advised.

"Fuck you," she muttered.

"Revy…"

She glared at him for a moment, and he matched her glare with a look of his own. It was a look that said he knew exactly what he was talking about. That however angry she might be with him, he would see her follow his orders because his orders would make her well again. Finally, she admitted defeat. She took the glass and downed a mouthful, then passed it back to him.

"There," she rasped, wiping her mouth. "Happy now?"

Rock sat down and smiled at her.

"I will be when you get well again."

Revy threw an arm over her eyes and ignored him.

"What happened to your hand?"

Revy suddenly realized she was covering her eyes with her right arm. Rocks' tie was still tied around her right hand. She had no desire to tell him that story.

"I look like a fuckin' housewife to you? My hand got fucked up, so I tied it."

"May I?"

"Fuck off," she muttered. His fussing was going to make her hurt him soonish.

"Revy, I'm a licensed paramedic now. Let me…"

She smacked her right arm into the couch and was too pissed to even notice the pain.

"Don't you fuckin' touch me," she snarled.

Rock's mouth clicked shut. She glared at him for a few more seconds, then shut her eyes again.

"What's the fuckin' point anyway?"

"Hm?" Rock asked.

She cracked an eye to glare at him.

"I do anything to piss you off, and you're just gonna fuck off again. I roughed you up that night, right? At the flag? I roughed you up, so you punked out. Ya walked out on me n' Dutch, after all the shit we did for you. Now you come back and you're what? Mister bigshot fuckin' paramedic? So, if I crack your jaw right now, whatcha gonna do, huh? Gonna go to law school next and sue me?"

Rock stared at her for a moment. He took a deep breath, and in that extra half-second formulated his response.

"Revy, do you think that's why I left?"

She looked at him, and he at her, and neither of them said anything, so he continued.

"You think I left because of you? Because of what you did that night? It's true I didn't like how you treated me, but that's not why I left. Do you want to know why I left?"

Revy said nothing, but she blinked and her gaze softened slightly. Rock took that as a sign of curiosity, so he took a deep breath, turned his eyes to the ceiling, and continued.

"Years," he said, and there was a very great bitterness in his voice now. "For years I've been trying to help people. Yukio. That Romanian girl. Fabiola and Garcia. The maid. And every single time I either watched them die or I got absolutely shit on. I was pounding my head into solid concrete trying to dig to China. And the people I was pounding for just spat on me."

He breathed, Revy didn't say anything, then he looked at her.

"I needed to change," he said finally. "If things had kept going on like that, eventually I would've gone behind a building with one of your guns and I wouldn't have come back. That is why I left."

Revy's mouth fell open. He just stared at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought. Finally, she looked away from him and tried to process what the fuck she'd just heard.

"Fuck, Rock. Just… damn."

He looked at her again, and smiled.

"I know what I want to do now, Revy," he continued. "I know what I want to do and I know how to do it. After I left the Flag that night I took a walk along the beach."

Revy was staring at him, transfixed.

"I got to the pier, and I saw a woman sitting on the beach. She flopped over onto her back and started to seize and vomit. I think she was having an overdose. I turned her over onto her side so her puke could flow out and she could breathe again. After a few minutes her breathing got back to normal. I called Rowan, and he came with some girls and picked her up."

"Rowan?" Revy asked. "The fuck you call him for?"

"She was one of his girls. Had his business card in her pocket."

"Huh," Revy responded, unsure of what to say.

Rock could tell that she didn't understand, so he leaned forward and continued.

"It was like being struck by lightning. I saved her life, Revy. It was… incredible. I saved someone. Someone else in this city is breathing right now because of me. And, no gun in my face. No shot to my chest. No one shit on me for it. And today, I saved two more: you and Dutch. No one can take that away from me. But I had to learn how to do that, and I couldn't learn it here. That is why I left."

Revy was staring at him open-mouthed again. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and her vision wasn't red with rage she could actually see him clearly. Maybe it was the tank-top he was wearing as an undershirt, but his biceps and shoulders looked at least twice as thick as when he'd left. He'd also let his facial hair grow out into a thin, rugged stubble. But his voice… She had never heard him talk like this before. There was a fire there now. A sense of drive and purpose. He sounded like the cowboy from those old westerns she loved giving his speech about doing right and fighting evil before going off to save his girl. Even through her headache Revy would be lying if she said she wasn't impressed with what she saw.

"Fuck," she said. "Just… damn."

Rock looked at her.

"Now, let's talk about you."

"Huh?" Revy asked.

"You've had a concussion. Your brain needs to heal. Bedrest: I'd say at least a week. I called Dutch while you were out. He's got a broken arm and needs to get better too. You can stay here if you want. I'll monitor your progress. After a week we can take you for another CT scan. If it's clear, you can go back to work."

"I don't need your fuckin' permission," she retorted.

He raised an eyebrow.

"If you'd rather risk permanent brain damage, be my guest. But you should know that money can't regrow brain cells."

Revy had no answer to this. She glared at him for a moment, then dropped her eyes in defeat.

Rock spoke again.

"So, that just leaves what we do now. I can't get you back to your place tonight, so you're welcome to stay. Benny's car isn't working, so that's out."

"Huh?"

"Bullet damage, he says."

"Fuck."

"Are you okay with spending the night here?"

She shrugged.

"Whatever."

Rock smiled.

"Okay then! Are you comfy? I've got more blankets."

She looked at him.

"Got any bacardi?"

Rock shook his head.

"Not for a week," he answered her inevitable follow up question before she asked. "And definitely not with painkillers in your system. Tell you what, I'll treat you to a glass after you get better."

"Deal," she answered.

Rock smiled and they shook on it.

"So, your hand."

Revy frowned but accepted defeat. She took off her glove, un-tied Rock's tie, and held out her hand for him.

Rock took it in his hands and looked it over. They were big, Revy noticed, but gentle.

"Hm. Looks like a bite mark," he said after a moment. "What happened?"

"Some stupid mutt down by the flag," she muttered. "Got him though. Clean-shot."

She expected Rock to be impressed. Instead, he froze and his eyes went wide.

"A dog? From around here?"

Revy looked at him.

"Uh, yeah?"

Rock started shaking, panic in his eyes.

"You need to get tested for rabies," he said, and the fear in his voice told Revy she might have stepped in a much bigger lie than she'd planned. "Right now. Come on. Get up! We can walk. I'll carry you."

Revy groaned.

"Revy, by the time rabies shows symptoms, it is one-hundred percent fatal. You need to get tested and vaccinated right now. Get up!"

He reached for her arm, her head throbbed, and Revy broke.

"Rock," she said, unwilling to let this lie drag her into a miserable walk to the hospital. "It wasn't a dog. I bit my own hand because I was being stupid. I lied cuz I didn't want to say."

Rock stared at her for a moment, and Revy couldn't bring herself to look at him. Then, without warning, he stormed over to the wall.

"Crash!"

It sounded like the crack of a rifle. Revy scrambled into a sitting position and turned in the direction of the sound. For a moment she couldn't believe the input from her eyes. Rock was standing in front of the wall, his arm buried up to his elbow.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Rock slowly withdrew his arm from the wall, leaving a fist-sized crater in its wake.

"In future," he seethed with a voice that was very unlike his own. "If a medical professional is trying to help you, it's really dumb to lie to them."

Revy said nothing. Rock cradled his wrist and strode over to his bathroom. A few minutes later Revy watched him cross from his bathroom to his bedroom, a fresh bandage around his hand.

He didn't look at her, but his face had molded into a mask of indifference. Then he shut the door behind him, and left her alone in the dark.