By the time he'd been taken to the DEO, Winn had told his story at least three times in full, and started it at least six. Kara and Mon-El had stayed in the alley, using their powers to look for any clues that the CSI team might normally miss, while Alex and J'onn had escorted Winn back to the medbay.

Now, Winn sat uncomfortably on the bed while Alex buzzed around him, her tense silence unnerving him more than any line of questioning.

She'd already scanned him with the handheld and, not surprisingly, the main areas that lit up were his right cheek, shoulder and knee. What had surprised him though was a smaller data point radiating from his right wrist, which up until that point Winn hadn't thought was hurt. As he really looked at it in the bright lights of the medbay, he discovered it was swelling rather magnificently.

Alex had already cleaned out his cheek, which Winn was desperately trying to avoid catching a glimpse of in the medbay's shiny surfaces, before moving on to examining his wrist and shoulder. Unfortunately, that required moving them around and making them hurt, in order for her to determine that nothing seemed torn or broken. Her diagnosis was to take it easy for the next few days, which she ensured by guiding his arm into a sling.

"Take it off and I'll add a brace for your wrist," she threatened when Winn opened his mouth to protest. She ignored his unhappy scowl and she turned her attention to his knee. "How attached are you to these pants?"

Winn was far too exhausted to care. The momentary blip of adrenaline had long since worn off and it was taking everything he had just to remain upright. "Cut 'em."

Nodding, Alex pulled out a set of trauma scissors and made a long cut up the side of his leg. As she gently pulled what remained of the khaki away, Winn was able to see his swollen knee and knew, even without the training Alex had, that that wasn't good.

"I'm going to need to move it around," she said, almost apologetically, as if that was somehow different from the way she'd handled his shoulder and wrist.

"Just get it over with," Winn replied. Then, at her request, he lay back and slung his uninjured arm over his eyes, mindful of his taped-up cheek.

Just after Alex started poking at his knee, Winn heard someone hurry into the medbay, breathing hard as if they'd run the entire way there.

"Hey," James said as he strode over to stand beside the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Winn bit back a hiss as Alex dug her fingers into the back of his knee. "Been better, honestly. But it's nothing a little R&R won't fix."

"I'm so sorry I left you. I saw how exhausted you were; I should have biked back with you."

"And let everyone figure out that the van helps Guardian? I don't think so." Winn dropped his arm so he could look up at James. "It's not your fault, man. Seriously. Though, we should probably get the van repainted, just in case. I don't know if that's how they found me or—"

"Winn, the van can wait." James reached out and rested his hand on Winn's uninjured shoulder. "You're what's important right now."

"That is absolutely correct," J'onn said from the far corner of the medbay, where from the little Winn had overheard, he'd been checking in with the CSI team. "But as much as I want to leave you alone, I have to ask you some questions first."

"Fire—" The rest of Winn's response died in his mouth as Alex positioned her hands on either side of his knee and tugged. She was gentle enough, but pain raced up his leg nonetheless, and he dug his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from yelping.

"Sorry," Alex said. "Had to do it while you were distracted so you didn't tense up."

"And what did it tell you?" Winn squeaked out as his joint throbbed with a new vigor.

"All your ligaments are intact, which is really great news. You're going to need a brace for a few days, but if the pain stays manageable, you might be able to avoid crutches."

With great effort, Winn lifted his head and looked Alex directly in the eye. "I guarantee I will not need crutches."

"As long as you follow my instructions and take it easy, you can make that happen."

"Gucci." Winn then shifted his weight to his left side so he could prop himself up on his elbow and still see everyone in the room. Though he was successful and without pain, James tsked at him, and poked the controls on the bedrail to raise the head of the bed instead.

When it was at a decent height, Winn allowed himself to lie fully back. He mouthed his thanks to James before turning his attention to J'onn. "So what did you want to know?"

"You had no indication this man was following you?"

"No," Winn replied, drawing out the final vowel. "None at all… I mean, technically, he was ahead of me. That's the only way he could have pulled me into the alley at that angle."

"So he was waiting for you, which means he knew where you'd be. You don't remember seeing anyone strange any other night you returned from the parking lot?"

"No. But it's never the same time. Sometimes we're out late, other times we're one and done."

"And he didn't say anything else to you, except ordering you to leave National City tonight?"

"He called me Toyman Jr. But yeah, that was it."

J'onn nodded, then rested a hand on Winn's ankle. "If you think of anything else—"

"I'll call one of you guys, I promise. Scout's Honor."

"You were never a Scout," Alex interjected, without looking up from the ice pack she was currently wrapping around Winn's knee.

Winn made a face at Alex for calling him out then turned back to J'onn. "Now that we've established I'm going to live, did CSI find anything in the alley?"

"A few drops of blood—confirmed yours. Some fibers. We're running them through the mass spec now," J'onn replied. "But that's not for you to worry about, Agent Schott. For some reason, someone is targeting you directly. Until they are found, you will have an agent with you at all times during the day, and a car sitting outside your apartment at night."

His apartment. Ooh.

"I suppose this is a bad time to mention I think someone might have broken into my place last night." Through his preemptive wince, Winn couldn't see anyone's reactions, but he heard the slight intakes of breaths and the creaking of the bedrail as James' hand tightened around it.

"You're going to need to explain," Alex said, her concern only thinly veiled behind her otherwise level tone.

Winn took a breath and did.

"I can't believe no one saw anything," Kara grumbled as she and Mon-El, dressed in street clothes, continued to traverse the street between Winn's apartment and the parking lot. Though the DEO had cordoned off the alley and their version of CSI was currently hard at work, there were very few results so far. People were clustering around the newly erected police barricade, and Kara was scanning each of them, just in case one of them was the perpetrator returning to the scene of the crime… and, yes, that thought was a testament to how many procedural dramas she had watched during her fun-employment.

"What did you expect?" Mon-El replied as he stepped into the alley across from the one where Winn had been attacked and leaned against the wall. "Most of them were probably very drunk, and those who weren't disappeared by the time the DEO arrived."

The look Kara shot him was deadly.

"I'm just stating a fact," he said, throwing up his hands in surrender. "Don't shoot the message-bringer."

Kara sagged against the wall next to Mon-El. "There has to be something. This is Winn we're talking about."

"If we had a picture or description, we could ask the bartenders in the area. But then again, Winn said the guy wasn't drunk."

"So if he wasn't drunk, he was waiting for Winn." Kara straightened up, her eyes brightening as her brain began to work the puzzle. "Which means he knew where to find Winn."

"And we know how careful Winn is with his online presence," Mon-El continued. "So that means he was followed."

"The van?"

"Maybe. Or on foot."

Kara took another pan of the street, even though she already knew the answer to her unvoiced question. "Too bad there aren't any cameras down this strip."

"But there are at the lot, and there are outside Winn's apartment. Maybe if we go back a few days, we'll see something."

Kara smiled for the first time since they'd received the call that Winn had been mugged. Unfortunately, it dropped off her face a split second later when her phone rang and she saw the caller ID.

"It's Snapper." She checked the time, then looked back up at Mon-El and winced. "I was supposed to submit my article by ten."

"You go do that. I'll run back to the DEO and see if they're searching the cameras."

Kara leaned over and quickly kissed Mon-El. "Thanks. And check on Winn if you can. Tell him I'll be by later with the usual order if he wants."

Mon-El nodded, then gently pushed Kara away. "I will. Now, go."

By the time Winn was done laying out his suspicions, Alex had fitted him with a metal-hinged knee brace, and had joined J'onn and James in staring at him with stoic, borderline displeased, expressions.

"What about cameras?" she asked.

"I don't have cameras in my place. You all know how easy they are to hack. I have no desire to have someone watching me in the few hours of peace I do get at home."

"Motion sensors?"

"Not triggered. There are no event logs from when I got paged to when I returned."

"And you're sure you just didn't move those things around?"

"Maybe. But it's a helluva coincidence if I did."

"We'll need to look at your apartment," J'onn stated.

Winn nodded then lifted his hip slightly to dig into his pocket for his keys. "Code is 75839, which I will be changing after everyone leaves."

J'onn slid the key ring onto his finger then tapped for a moment on his phone. "We need to assume the two incidents are connected, and that it's not safe for you to go home tonight," he said, looking back up at Winn. "I'd like to get you to a safe house—"

"That's not necessary," Winn was quick to protest. He could wait until CSI was done going over his place and head back afterward. It wasn't like he'd be sleeping anytime soon anyway. As exhausted as his body was, his mind had found its second wind and was dancing about from idea to idea.

He needed to run down the friends and family of the people his father killed to see who was in the area. Also, anyone who had spoken out against his father, or him actually. He was vaguely aware of a faction that wanted to cleanse the National City of known criminals and their families, regardless of whether any of their families had committed crimes. Winn wasn't aware he'd made their list, but after the Toycon incident of last year, he supposed anything was possible.

"I agree. Winn can stay at my place until this is all over," Alex said.

"I have a guest bedroom," James countered almost instantly. "That way you don't have to sleep on the couch. No offense," he said to Alex, who shrugged.

"It'd actually be good for him to sleep on a bed. He's going to be sore in the morning."

Winn's gaze danced back and forth between his friends. "Hold up. He is right here, and he thanks both of you, but he will be fine at hi—"

"This is not up for discussion, Winn," J'onn interrupted, though his words were as gentle as Winn had ever heard them. "You will be staying at James' until we clear your place." Then, he turned to look at James. "Now, did you ride your bike here, or do we need to have someone drive you?"

"Biked," James said. "So a lift would be great."

"Thanks for doing this," Winn said as he limped into James' place and tried to collapse on the couch. James, unfortunately, had other ideas and slid himself under Winn's shoulder to bolster him back to upright.

"To the guest bedroom," he said, steering Winn off to the left.

"Your place is nice," Winn commented as he was led past an incredibly luxurious-looking leather sectional and a decently expensive piece of art on the wall.

"Why do you say it like that? You've been here before."

"Nope." Winn tried to shake his head, but that only made the rest of his body hurt. "This is my first time."

James slowed slightly. "That can't be right."

"It is. Every time I was supposed to come over, one of us kept getting called away."

By this time, they'd reached the end of a short hallway that led to a guest room and second bath.

"Swanky," Winn commented as they entered the guest room and he saw the queen-sized bed, grey sheets, and three pillows lined up against the simple headboard.

He again tried to drop onto the closest flat surface, but James shuffled him up closer to the pillows.

"Now you can sit."

"Thanks," Winn deadpanned as he did just that. Then he fell back and closed his eyes, letting the ambient noises of the unfamiliar room wash over him.

"Hey." James was very gently tapping his shin. "You have to take your meds before you can sleep. Alex's orders."

Without opening his eyes, Winn held out his hand and felt two pills land on it. He opened his mouth and dropped them in, swallowing hard. "Can I sleep now?" he mumbled as he turned slightly onto his side.

"Once you get your legs on the bed."

Winn tried to help, he really did, but somehow his brain and body were on two different frequencies. He only managed to lift his legs a scant few inches.

James grumbled something under his breath before Winn felt his legs being dragged to the left, onto the bed, and his shoes untied. Then his right knee was being lifted, a pillow slid gently under it, and the sling slipped out from beneath him.

"Thanks," he managed to mumble, as a light sheet was pulled over him.

"You're welcome." With that, the overhead light flipped off. "Get some rest, Winn," James said, echoing his request from earlier.

Or at least that's what Winn would have heard, had he already not been fast asleep.

Alex walked down the hallway that led from the elevator to Winn's apartment, perfectly centered between the elevators and the stairwell. His door was cordoned off with caution tape and guarded by a DEO probie, who kept shooting looks at a group of (presumably) neighbors who had congregated a few doors down and were whispering furiously among themselves.

Upon seeing that Alex was heading toward them, the group attempted to scatter, until she held up her FBI badge.

"I'll be quick," she promised.

The group reluctantly stopped and turned to face her.

"Is Winn alright?" one of the women then asked.

"Yes. But someone broke into his place last night. I don't suppose any of you saw anything?"

They all shook their heads and provided various alibis.

"Have you seen anyone strange walking around here? On this floor or down in the lobby?"

They shook their heads again.

Alex groaned internally, but pulled out six of her FBI business cards and handed them out. "If you think of anything, please give me a call."

The group nodded, then disappeared into various apartments. Once they were all gone, Alex walked back to Winn's apartment and pulled a pair of crime scene booties from the box plunked outside his door. As she slipped them on, she couldn't help but overhear the fragments of a conversation from inside.

"—sure he just didn't forget where he left some stuff?" one agent was grumbling. "I had tickets to the Nats tonight."

"Or he's finally going the way of his dad."

Seeing red, Alex slipped under the crime scene tape and stormed into the room. Agents Stoller, the first speaker, and Pace, the second, were scanning the room with two handheld devices. They stopped speaking as soon as Alex entered and focused intently on their devices.

"Winn Schott is one of the finest agents I've ever worked with," Alex announced, staring icily at the two of them. "If he says someone was in here, then someone was." She then turned to Stoller, who was staring unflinchingly back at her. "And if you ever repeat what I just overheard, especially to Agent Schott, I will make sure you never work law enforcement in National City again."

Agent Pace had the decency to look ashamed, but Stoller just shrugged. "Like I said in my report, no one has been here recently but Agent Schott. There's no sign of forced entry on any doors or windows, the alarm system hasn't been tampered with, and there are no residual traces of any other life forms anywhere in this apartment."

That was impossible. Winn was so sure.

"What about the items he thought had been moved?" Alex asked.

"We printed the shampoo and body wash bottles. The only prints on them are his. The shoes he couldn't find are under his couch, and the island being moved," Stoller shrugged again. "No weird traces on any of its surfaces."

"And the smell?"

"Anything Agent Schott reported is long gone. Especially with the swamp cooler." She motioned to the window, where it was wedged in a bottom corner.

"Agent Schott was attacked tonight," Alex informed the two agents, but her attempt to shock them with this information fell on expressionless faces. "Are you sure we aren't missing anything here that might lead us to who did it?"

"With all due respect, Agent Danvers, I have to agree that there's nothing here," Agent Pace finally piped up.

"I'd like a third opinion, from someone who doesn't share your view of Agent Schott. Please call in your manager." She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall. "I'll wait."

James woke in the middle of the night, immediately reaching for his nightstand where his shield wristband was housed. He was on edge, muscles tensed, heart pounding, but didn't see anything that would have caused him to feel that way. His alarm system wasn't going off, nor was someone in his room.

James had just slid the wristband on when he heard a soft, "No… No! Please! Don't!"

Winn.

James was on his feet in an instant, sprinting into the guest room to find Winn locked in the throes of a nightmare. He was thrashing about, the pillow that was supposed to be under his knee halfway across the room and the sheet tightly tangled around his legs. His eyes were screwed closed, while his left arm was locked out, to keep some distance between him and his imaginary assailant.

"Winn," James said gently as he stepped closer. "Winn, hey, buddy," he continued, this time slightly louder. "It's James. You're in my apartment. You're safe."

But Winn didn't acknowledge him at all, still struggling with his invisible opponent.

Without another option, James reached out and gently grabbed Winn's shoulder. The DEO agent responded instantly, shooting upright and scooting away from James until his back collided with the headboard. "St'y 'way from me," he slurred, his eyes wide in panic. His hair was sticking up every which way and his left arm was still raised defensively. His right was curled against his chest, injured shoulder sandwiched between Winn and the headboard.

James took a step back and held up his hands. "It's just me, Winn. You're at my place. You're safe. I promise."

It took a long moment for recognition to set into Winn's expression. When it did, the heartbreaking expression that followed as he lowered his arm to the bed was almost worse.

"Hey, you're okay, man," James said, stepping forward and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Everyone has them."

Winn swallowed hard and slowly dragged his head from side to side. "I haven't had one that bad in years," he said, his voice harsh and grating.

Upon hearing that, James stood, filled a glass of water from the guest bathroom, and handed it to Winn, who sipped at it slowly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" James asked once some of the color had returned to Winn's cheeks.

Winn shrugged while his left hand rose to scrub at his face. "It's nothing new. Staring down the barrel of a gun, begging for my life. Sometimes he fires, sometimes he doesn't. It's never the same twice."

Instead of offering useless platitudes, which he knew Winn hated, James reached out and rested his hand on Winn's uninjured one. He'd sit there for as long as it took for Winn to dictate what happened next: whether he wanted to talk about it, or be distracted from it, or just go to sleep and try to forget about it. Until then, James hoped the physical contact, and his presence, would say everything that words couldn't.

They sat there in silence until Winn started drooping against the headboard.

"You wanna go back to sleep?" James asked.

Immediately, Winn pulled himself upright, all the while shaking his head with an almost desperation.

Apparently distraction it was, then.

"There's this new Netfilms movie I've been waiting to watch. If you're game, I'll get it queued up." When Winn didn't object, James stood and began walking toward the door. "And if you're hungry, Kara stopped by with potstickers we can reheat."

"Wait."

James turned back to Winn who was slowly dragging his legs over the side of the bed. Thinking he wanted help standing and knowing how stiff injured joints could be first thing after waking, James stepped back toward Winn, and held out his hand.

Winn shook his head again. "Not that. You. You should go to bed. At least one of us should get some more sleep before work tomorrow."

Now it was James turn to shake his head. "I'm not leaving you like this."

"You're not leaving me like anything."

"If our situations were reversed, would you walk out of the door and leave me in your state?"

The scowl residing on Winn's face deepened. "That's a low blow, Olsen. Even for you."

"I'm doing what it takes to make sure you have what you need for the night." James held out his hand again. "C'mon, Winn, let's go watch a movie."

It took a moment, but eventually Winn nodded, took James' hand, and used it to leverage himself upright. Then, together, they hobbled out of the room.

Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you thought!