(fight/blood tw)

Underdog looked royally pissed that morning. It'd been a week since he'd been scared to death and back by a train, so Lewis could confidently rule out that. They were on the couch, Lewis eating his stale snacks, while Underdog had his elbow on his radio, holding up his head. The radio operators decided today was murder revenge anthem day, which may have been partial to the reason of Underdog's expression. Though, in the weeks around him, Lewis learned he wasn't half as creative as his poet mom, so that was off the table.

"Now what are you staring at?"

"You, you wonderful masterpiece."

"Don't you even start with that."

Underdog leaned back and looked back at Lewis, smiling for a moment before going back to angry. "I can't stop thinking about that guy who tried to assault you. I wanna rip his pathetic incel balls off."

"That's the most gruesome thing you've ever said," Lewis said, swallowing the last of his granola, he shrugged, "You should honestly just kill him."

Underdog quietly laughed, looking surprised for a second. "I thought you hated violence."

"I have no remorse for people like that, especially if it happens first-hand."

Underdog tilted his head in agreement, "I can respect that. Radical, let's go kill a man," he stood and grabbed his keys. Lewis jumped up, quickly following.

Underdog didn't seem hellbent on murder. A punch to the face, sure, but not any metaphorical blood on his hands. Despite Underdog's "lack of muscle mass," Lewis still knew well enough he could cause nosebleeds and all sorts of bruises.

Underdog parked on the side of the road at a building that looked like a fancy school. He shifted the gear into park and left the key in the ignition.

"Don't get out and if you do don't go in."

When he got out Lewis slid over to his seat to look at his keys. He had a few keychains, and in all honestly Lewis figured the car key was the newest addition. The biggest was a gray square that said "I (heart) NYC." Ironic. Another was a gold-colored plate engraved with Gamma Prod. Another was a metallic ribbon, half cyan and half purple. The last was a tiny rose-gold heart with P & U carved into it.

Lewis felt himself choke up. Ugh. He still hadn't figured out what to tell his mom. He blinked a few times and realized, oh no, that choking was because he pulled the keys from the engine and the AC was off now! He shoved the keys back in, turning them, before pulling the lock on the door up, throwing it open and taking several deep breaths. Catching his breath, he looked over to the door of the building, Underdog and the rottweiler standing there. Not too far from the door but also not too far from the car. The rottweiler was just yelling at Underdog, his expression annoyed and angered. Underdog glanced over to Lewis in an expression of get in the car.

Lewis nodded to himself, quickly climbing in and pushing the lock back down, crawling back to his seat. The air still wasn't on but Lewis figured that Underdog probably wouldn't take much longer. A muffled voice came from close by. Lewis looked up. The rottweiler was saying something, knocking on the window. The window and his eyes were too dark for Lewis to see any malicious intent, though he knew he shouldn't open. The rottweiler started pulling on the handle, and in what seemed like the speed of light, Underdog stood and ran from where he was on the ground, holding his mouth.

He grabbed the rottweiler by the back collar of his shirt, and by his sudden changing expression Lewis could tell Underdog hurt him somewhere below the window. He then grabbed the front of his collar, punching him from under his chin, and then punching the side of his face, throwing him away. Meanwhile Lewis leaned over and pulled open the lock. Underdog quickly climbed in and started the car, speeding off. He turned off onto a road Lewis couldn't see, already curled up and crying into his knees. Soon enough he felt the car stop, and heard Underdog shift to lean back in his seat.

Lewis looked up. They'd parked in front of a police station. He turned to Underdog, who had a hand pressed against his mouth. When he pulled it off, his palm had a red dot right in the center. He laughed unhappily, and swore, though he had no anger left to put meaning behind the word. He nonchalantly whipped it off on his cardigan.

"You're bleeding," Lewis said between sobs.

"And you're bawling your eyes out, Captain Obvious. Come on, let's go report that guy."

Back at the cabin, neither were any better. Underdog's mouth wasn't bleeding as much and Lewis was all out of tears, sure, but neither felt any better. The only positive was that the radio had shifted to upbeat love songs. After one that Lewis didn't recognize ended, Underdog spoke.

"Who… are you?"

"What?"

"Who are you. I should've asked this sooner, especially taking you out in public… You're just…. Some kid who showed up in the right time and place I was, and something told me I had to protect you because, good God, someone would track me down and kill me if I didn't. So who are you related to that would kill me if I let you get hurt, hm?"

Lewis laughed a bit, wiping his eyes, "Oh just some lady. She's my mom, I don't know if you've heard of her, her name is Sweet Polly Purebred?"

Underdog chuckled. "Oh, good one Lewis."

But Lewis didn't laugh, he just stared quietly up at Underdog. Underdog smiled and looked back down. His smile immediately fell into horror.

"Oh, you're being serious."