If there was a god, then I'm sure he would have had me die that night. He would have had me fall to the dirty pavement, my body mangled and broken, and he would have had me die there, but apparently, I didn't. It was only later that I realized that I had just barely made it to the dumpster, and it was a stroke of luck that that one dumpster only gets picked up once every two weeks.

But my luck ended there because when I awoke I found myself in a strange but familiar place. The mustard yellow walls made me ill, and the old drapes tested my mind. I woke terrified. I could barely remember what happened, but I knew it was not good, not good at all.

"Hello?" my voice was unrecognizable to me. it was weak and soft, it had been like that once before, this was just a fluke.

"Hellooo?" I called out again, my voice getting stronger.

I began getting up, but the pain in my lower body was crippling. I screamed out, if I had paid more attention I would have heard the footsteps running down the hallway.

"Shit, shit!" his voice cracked out like a whip in the silence.

It was Red Mist, and we were in our house, the old decaying piece of art. I looked to him, his eyes were still black in a way but they looked tired and worried, I cringed at the sight of him.

"What the fuck happened to me?" I cried out at him as he laid me back to rest.

"Lets...not talk about that right now, you need to rest..." his voice trailed off, blending with the silence.

We sat there for a very long time, or at least it felt like a long time. I looked over at him, his tired weathered face was saddening. It had been a long time since I had actually felt bad for someone. I thought it would feel good to have a link to being a real human again, but it didn't, it fucking sucked.

Every now and then he would glance over at me, and I would quickly turn away. It was mortifying to know that I was here, and he was taking care of me. I had always told myself that I would never get hurt, that I would be a force to be reckoned with but it felt like more and more I was getting my ass handed to me.

"So...um, how are you feeling?" he asked.

"Like I fell off the top of a six story building." I said, humor coated my voice, and I smiled at him from behind my paint.

"Well I got you all fixed up, the stab wound in your arm was pretty nasty, but you should be OK, and well your legs are pretty banged up, a fracture or two, but i'm sure your going to be back on the streets kicking my ass soon enough." he said as he rose from the chair.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Well...I was going to give you your space, I'm sure you must hate me." his voice cracked on 'hate'.

"Why would I-" and then I remembered what happened, the kiss, me running off, I became sick, and vomited all over the dusty floor.

I realized what I had become, a sappy love story...I hated my life. This is not what I had intended to happened when I first embarked on this path. I refused to fall in love with this kid. I realized why choosing a side was so important...so things like this wouldn't happen.

I was certain that Red Mist had wanted me from the start, not just for my sicko 'fuckin' shit up' skills, but also because at some point he thought he and I could relate, maybe its when he first got me in the back in the alley, maybe it when he was stalking me before he met me, but now he wanted me...this world, this life I created for myself was slowly falling apart, and it was my own doing. But I couldn't let this happen, I refused to let this life go. I tore it apart, but now I had to fix it.

"Tell me something about yourself..." I said quietly.

"I'm red mist, I terrify this city, kill its citizens, and laugh while doing it all." he said...sarcasm greased his voice.

"I mean about who you are without the mask..." I said, a little angry.

He paused and looked at me.

"I just graduated high school..." his voice was weak.

"Me too." I said.

"I'm rich...and my family sucks." he continued.

"I'm middle class...and my family is perfect...with the exception of myself..." I trailed off.

We continued for hours, and over those hours I felt connected to him. He was me, he was me in guy form. It was comforting, but disturbing.

The weeks would go by, when I finally was well I donned my costume and left. Before I dashed off into the rising sun on the horizon I looked up to the house, there I saw Red Mist, looking down at me. I would have sworn that I saw a smile cross his face, but he was gone before I could double check.