Author's Note:

This takes place after the events of Watch Dogs 1. Though everything is mostly the same, there are a few key differences. First, Aiden's identity is never revealed. And second, Aiden and T-bone both stay in Chicago, working together as they did during the events of the game. Everything should pretty much make sense as you go along.

I will be posting a new chapter every week on Saturdays so stay tuned and, as always, leave a comment with any thoughts you have on the story so far. Enjoy!

Also, CONTENT WARNING for attempted sexual assault in the prologue and some references to it throughout.

Prologue

It was late. Later than Jay would normally be out in this part of town. A last minute emergency had come into the clinic and as the only nurse on duty, Jay had had to stay to tend to the patient. She had already been planning on staying late to finish up paperwork as it was. Between the two, Jay hadn't left the clinic until well after dark.

Now, she hurried through the dark streets, pulling her jacket close around her. Rain pelted the pavement, only visible in the cones of light pouring from the flickering streetlamps. She didn't want to miss the train. It would be a good half hour before another one came at this time of night.

She knew The Wards wasn't the best part of town. Frankly, that fact was why a non-profit clinic had been set up there. Victims of gang violence, or even gang members themselves could come in to the clinic with no questions asked and services offered at cost.

Jay didn't mind that she made next to nothing working there. Burnt out from the big pharma that was her old hospital job, she at least felt like she was making a real difference here. It was her own way of healing this broken city.

It was a haven of sorts, the clinic. A sanctuary that gangs left alone because they knew they needed their services.

As such, she had never had any trouble coming to and from the clinic. As such, she didn't give a second thought to turning down an alley to reach the train station quicker.

The alley was full of trash and debris, a half-full dumpster stationed along one brick wall. Jay had to thread her way through, placing her feet carefully so as not to twist an ankle.

A man stepped out at the far end of the alley, silhouetted in the amber light. Head ducked against the rain and eyes down to choose her path, Jay nearly ran into the man before she realized he was there. When she looked up to see his feral smile, her blood froze.

"Where are you going in such a hurry? It's dangerous to be out alone at this time of night." He took a step toward her. "I should come with you. Make sure you get there safely."

Jay tried to act casual. She forced a quick smile to her face and stammered, "Oh, that…that's ok. I… I think I'll be all right on my own." Every hair on the back of her neck was standing on end. She turned and walked back the way she came in.

The man called after her, "Oh, come on, now. Don't be like that!"

Jay settled into a jog halfway down the alley. She checked back over her shoulder to see if that man was following. He wasn't and she almost breathed a sigh of relief except that when she looked forward again, two more men swaggered into view, stopping her in her tracks.

She was trapped.

Terror settled into Jay's throat. A surge of adrenaline flooded through her and set her heart pounding, her hands shaking. She dropped all pretense and fumbled at her purse as she backed away as quickly as possible. When she had moved to Chicago, her mom had insisted she carry mace in her purse. Jay had rolled her eyes when she'd agreed. She didn't even know if it was good anymore.

It didn't matter anyway. The two men grabbed Jay and ripped the purse from her sweaty hands, throwing it to the ground behind them and shoving her back against the wall. A clipped shriek escaped her lips. Tears streamed unbidden down her cheeks, hidden by the relentless rain that washed them away.

The two men held her with their presence until the first man sauntered up.

"What are you running for?"

He invaded her space, gently wiping a piece of hair that had plastered itself across her face to the side. Jay found herself unable to do anything but tremble.

"I told you," he breathed into her face, "we just want to make sure you get home all right." He shifted his weight back. "I don't think it's too much to ask for a little"—he let his gaze wander downward and back up to Jay's eyes—"payment for our services."

Jay swung for the man's face, but he leaned back to dodge it and, catching her arm, used her momentum against her to spin her around. Then the two men swooped in and grabbed an arm each, pinning her face to the wall.

"Ooooh!" the man cooed gleefully, pressing himself up against her, ignoring her cries. "I like'em a little feisty."

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" Jay screamed. She screamed as loud as she possibly could, though she knew nothing would come of it. She was utterly helpless. Utterly alone.

The man pressed his face against the back of Jay's neck, taking in a long draught of her scent. He breathed into her ear. "Scream all you want, girlie. No one's coming."

In the next second, the city around them went completely dark, the forgotten sound of electricity dying out with it.

"You fucking kidding me?" the man to Jay's right said.

"Shut the fuck up and hold her still. Not like we can't do this in the dark."

Jay felt the man behind her grabble at her clothes and she fought violently against them, resuming her screaming.

Sudden footsteps were the only warning before something crashed into the man behind Jay, tearing him away from her.

"What the fuck?" The man to Jay's left lessened his grip as he turned to see what had happened.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jay was just able to make out the dark shapes of two figures fighting, though the fight didn't last long. The newcomer swung something at the first man and his pained shouts didn't last long before one final swing bore him to the ground and left him silent.

It was at this point that the two flunkies released Jay and turned to face this new threat. Jay knew she should have run, but she was too stunned to move. She wouldn't have gotten very far anyway. It was all over in less than a minute, the man, who Jay's adjusting eyes could now make out was wearing a long trench coat, making quick work of the two remaining men.

The lights flickered back on as he brought a policeman's baton back across the face of the third man. All three were left unconscious and bleeding on the ground.

Jay's savior's shoulders rose with his labored breath, his back currently to her. She was still too stunned to move, to speak.

The man collapsed his baton and stored it in a pocket of his brown leather trench coat, his dark boots splashing in the rain as he turned to face Jay. The bottom half of his face was covered, his eyes shadowed by his baseball cap. Though he was recovering his breath, his gravelly voice was gentle as he asked, "Are you all right?"

Flooded with sudden relief, Jay collapsed to her knees, holding herself and sobbing into her hand.

The man kept his distance, but crouched down, asking again, "Are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

The only thing Jay could manage was to shake her head meekly.

The man glanced around. He let her be for a moment while he stood up and checked on Jay's attackers, giving them all a little kick, presumably to check if they were still unconscious. When he was satisfied, he strode over to Jay's purse and gathered her scattered belongings into it. Everything but the mace, which he kept in his hand.

He came back to her and knelt down, offering her the purse and the mace. "They can't hurt you anymore, but keep this out anyway."

Finally mastering herself, Jay took both with shaking hands. She didn't know how he knew, but she did feel the slightest bit safer with the mace in her hands. If such a feeling were possible in the current circumstances. She looked up at him. "Thank you," she said numbly. Then a whole new wave of grateful sobs broke forth. "Thank you," she choked out.

Her savior just nodded slowly. He stood and offered her a hand. "You need to get out of here." Sniffling loudly, Jay took the man's hand and stood. "I'm assuming you were heading for the train?"

Confused, Jay asked, "How…"

Once Jay was up, the man backed up a step and tucked his hands in his pockets. "Everyone cuts across here to get to the train." He jerked his head toward the men on the ground. "And they know it."

Horror struck Jay at how she had wandered right into their trap.

The man must have read the look on Jay's face because his tone softened when he said, "Hey. You're safe now."

Jay nodded, though she didn't feel safe. Didn't know if she'd ever feel safe again.

"Listen," the man continued, "there's a diner three blocks that way. Papa's." He pointed to the right out of the alley. "It might look a little sketchy from the outside, but they're good people who run it. Open 24 hours. Call the cops and wait for them there. They'll take you home."

Jay was frozen. Was this shock?

At her reticence, the man said forcefully, but kindly, "You have to move. You can't wait here."

Fear shone in Jay's eyes as she glanced toward the end of the alley. How could she walk three blocks from here? How could she walk three steps?

"Go. You can do this," the man answered her silent question. "Nothing will happen to you along the way. I promise." He took a step back and gave her an encouraging nod. "Go."

Willing her legs to move, Jay did as she was told. You can do this. You can do this, she chanted to herself.

When she reached the end of the alley, she spared a glance backward.

The man, her savior, was gone.

Chapter One

Aiden raced across the rooftops, steam billowing from the vents he passed in a rush. It was another typical day for Aiden—cloudy, cold, and filled with confrontation with one of Chicago's many gangs.

Lately, it had been the Viceroys. Or what remained of them. After Aiden had killed their leader, Iraq, and most of his inner circle, the Viceroys had never recovered. They were no longer one of the major players in Chicago, but there were still plenty of them and they were growing stronger every day, filling their stronghold of Rossi-Fremont with thugs and criminals.

Aside from stopping their various street-level criminal activities, Aiden generally didn't worry about them.

Except for one thing. They had information on the South Club's trafficking ring.

Aiden had landed a major bust on it two years ago, but even that couldn't shut it down for good. Not even close. The operation was much too big. And, at that time, the Viceroys were an integral part of it. The higher ranking members that had escaped Aiden's raid of Rossi-Fremont were still out there, still had information that Aiden needed.

And so here he was, a flash drive bouncing in his pocket and a silenced pistol gripped in one hand. He had had to go through several Viceroy flunkies just to figure out who might have the information he sought. And where that man was. Much to Aiden's chagrin, it had been a messy affair. He hadn't had anything on the men he had "questioned" and he knew his vague threats would do nothing to keep them from crying to their superiors the second he let them go. Zip ties and duct tape could only hold them for so long.

Had it only been a couple of them, Aiden might have still had enough time, but it took three of them for Aiden to even find one who knew who he was talking about. Then he had had to work through several mid-level goons to get any credible info. By the time he'd gotten what he needed, he knew they would have been waiting for him. But he had had to go for it anyway. If he had waited, they would have moved or destroyed the evidence and he desperately needed it. Leads at this point were exceedingly sparse.

Aiden had made his way to the Viceroy satellite safehouse immediately. As he'd expected, they were ready for him. A firefight ensued and Aiden had barely been able to download a portion of the data and get out without getting a bullet in his head. He had been lucky just to take a few grazes and one shot to his upper arm, though it had gone straight through and, while painful, hardly slowed Aiden down.

The only remaining Viceroy, Rowan Hughes, the higher-up Aiden had been asking about, had given chase as Aiden had withdrawn to the roof.

Aiden pumped his arms, leaping over another gap between buildings. Rolling to recover, Aiden sprang up and kept going. A shot pinged off of a metal vent next to Aiden and he ducked behind it to break line of sight and continued sprinting, heading for the rooftop door.

It was locked.

"Shit." Aiden swore. There weren't many options, but Aiden didn't have any time to waste. Rowan would be right behind him.

Spotting a fire escape, Aiden darted for it, firing a few shots in the direction of the Viceroy to give himself some cover. The metal railings creaked as Aiden hit the fire escape, a sound that gave him little confidence in its structure. Ignoring the noise, he jumped down whole flights of stairs at a time, bashing into the landings as he swung around to the next one. Once he was halfway down, Aiden allowed himself to peek upward and spotted Rowan just coming to the top of the fire escape. The man levelled his gun at Aiden, but Aiden knew better. Despite what it felt like, it would be virtually impossible for him to shoot through all the bars between them. Aiden continued his rapid descent as bullets ricocheted off of the metal above him. It was going relatively well until Aiden turned on a landing and had to catch himself before he threw himself down the next set of stairs, feet skating out from underneath him as he pitched his weight backward.

The stairs ended halfway down, the rest of the fire escape rusted and fallen away more than two floors below.

Aiden frantically searched for another way down—a ledge, a pipe, a serendipitous truck parked nearby.

There was nothing.

Rowan was coming down the fire escape fast and Aiden didn't want to get into a one on one fight with him if he didn't have to. The man was large, one of Iraq's inner circle who looked like he had taken a few too many steroids in his life. In such a confined space, Aiden didn't fancy his chances. Aiden might get a lucky shot off, but he could just as easily receive one.

Aiden growled. "Fuck."

He would have to jump. It might not have been such a huge deal either, except for the broken and twisted heap of fire escape below. There was no way Aiden would get a clear landing. Of course he had chosen to make his descent down some abandoned building with a shoddy fire escape. Had Aiden had a chance to plan beforehand, he would have calculated several escape routes. But it didn't matter now. He had to go for it.

Turning around at the edge of the stairs, Aiden lowered himself by his arms as far as he could go and then let himself drop, aiming for a flatter part of wreckage below.

His efforts were in vain.

Aiden's ankle hooked into a piece of raised metal and cranked around as the rest of him came crashing down in a heap, the burst of pain eliciting a guttural cry from Aiden. Fighting past it, Aiden wrenched his ankle free and flipped himself onto his back, aiming his gun upward, knowing Rowan would be nearly at the bottom of the fire escape.

Just as Aiden brought his gun around, a bullet speared into Aiden's torso, the shot striking an inch below the bullet proof vest he always wore. It was too far wide to have hit anything major, but Aiden recoiled from it nonetheless. Two more shots punched Aiden straight in the chest, but his vest kept them from penetrating. Pure reflex had Aiden firing back, emptying half a clip at the face and arm that had reached around the railing above to fire at Aiden.

When Aiden stopped firing, Rowan's body slumped against the railing, his gun falling from his limp hand, blood dripping down next to Aiden. Aiden kept his gun trained on him, waiting to see if he would move, but he didn't. He was dead.

Laying back, Aiden closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself catch his breath. He knew he didn't have long, though. This may have been a largely unpopulated section of the city, but the gunfire would draw the cops soon enough and Aiden wanted to be long gone when they arrived.

Groaning, he pulled himself to his feet using the railings around him and picked his way out of the debris. Once Aiden no longer had the railing to lean on, he cried out, his ankle on fire as it took his whole weight. He gritted his teeth against the pain and hobbled down the nearby alley, hand on the wall to steady himself. Furtively checking around corners, Aiden took the first car he came to, a nondescript four door sedan he found a street over. His ankle was screaming at him by this point, his other injuries forgotten next to the knives stabbing up his leg.

It was going to be a long drive back to the Bunker.

"What the fuck happened?"

T-bone had rushed over to Aiden once he had seen him limping down the stairs to the main room of the Bunker. Throwing Aiden's arm over his shoulders, T-bone had promptly guided him to the makeshift medical bay they had established in an underground portion of the Bunker to the right.

The fluorescent light flickered on overhead as they entered, revealing a mess of a room. Over the last couple years, Aiden and T-bone had amassed quite a stock of medical supplies, allowing them to self-treat most injuries. Gauze and bandages and medical instruments covered every surface, filled every drawer and cabinet in the crowded room. Off to one side stood a large metal cabinet full of prescription drugs, better stocked than the average CVS pharmacy. Next to it was a refrigerator full of Aiden's and T-bone's blood, bags they had stored up in case of an emergency.

They made their way to the middle of the room, Aiden covered in blood. A lot of it his, some of it not. He was starting to feel the blood loss at this point, his head light and his body exhausted. He sighed with relief as he sat on a folding chair, T-bone bringing over another one so Aiden could prop his leg up.

"I needed the information." Aiden groaned with pain as T-bone prodded at his ankle. T-bone then gathered up a tray of supplies to attend to Aiden's various wounds. "I finally got a lead on the trafficking ring and I had to act fast or lose it."

T-bone motioned for Aiden to strip his coat and shirt off. While Aiden complied, he commented, "That was reckless." He took in Aiden's bullet wounds and grazes. "Looks like you almost got yourself killed."

"I didn't have a choice." Aiden's breath hitched as T-bone started cleaning the wound on his side, the largest of his injuries. "If I had waited, they probably would have moved and I never would have found them again."

Grabbing some needle drivers and suture, T-bone asked, "Did you at least get what you were after?"

Aiden leaned over to his coat and fished in the pocket for the flash drive. "Yeah, I was able to get in there and download the information." His fingers found a plastic edge and Aiden pulled the drive out.

His heart dropped. "Oh you've got to be fu…" Aiden couldn't even finish his sentence, he was so infuriated. With himself. With the world. He ground his teeth as his eyes wandered the room in frustration.

The flash drive was smashed, the outside cover in pieces and the circuitry underneath badly scratched. It had to have broken in the fall; Aiden must have landed on it.

"We might still be able to pull something off of it," T-bone offered sympathetically.

"Yeah, maybe," Aiden agreed in a clip. They'd be lucky if they got anything intelligible from that drive. He had done all this, risked his life, for nothing.

It took a little while, but T-bone sewed and bandaged Aiden's wounds, the rest of the time passing in tense silence, Aiden too upset to speak more about the drive. T-bone had wanted to cast Aiden's ankle, but Aiden wouldn't let him, claiming it was just a bad sprain. So Aiden wrapped it up instead, icing it once he made his way back to his quarters.

Frustrated, bone-tired, and chock-full of painkillers, Aiden fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow.

Over the next couple of days, Aide's ankle didn't improve. If anything, it was getting worse. The skin around it was a nasty purple and yellow muddling and the ankle itself was twice the size of the other.

Aiden had sincerely hoped that it was only sprained, but he had to admit that it was probably broken. T-bone again offered to cast it, but Aiden knew all too well what happened when bones weren't set properly and he didn't want to have a limp the rest of his life.

Still, it wasn't as though he could go to a hospital. Too many questions, too many records. Luckily, Aiden had scoped out several potential options for situations such as these. He knew there was a clinic on the south side of town that had a no questions policy. And he could pay in cash.

Taking his crutches, Aiden headed out to his car.

It was a slow Wednesday. Jay had only helped a handful of patients so far and it was almost closing time. Currently, she was at the front desk, chatting amiably with Gabbie, the receptionist, and catching up on some paperwork at the opposite computer.

A cover of "Counting Stars" echoed through the white tiled lobby, working its way between the well-worn chairs and year-old issue magazines that littered the tables. Jay didn't even hear the music anymore. After the hundredth time playing, it had become background noise to her ears.

Cutting through the music was the phone, ringing next to Gabbie and stopping their conversation. She held up a finger to Jay and picked up the phone. A moment later, the bell dinged above the door and a man struggled past the squeaky door on crutches. He was middle-aged, with dark hair and green eyes. A loose, grey hoodie draped over a pair of blue jeans that covered one tennis-shoed foot and one bandaged ankle.

"Hello!" Jay called out as the man crossed the lobby.

"Hey," he answered, approaching the desk.

"I'd ask you how we could help you, but I think I know the answer."

The man smirked. "Yeah. I was hoping it might be sprained, but now I'm pretty sure it's broken."

"We will take some x-rays of that ankle, but I need you to fill out this intake form for now." Jay handed him a clipboard with a single sheet of paper on it. As was their policy (and as was explained at the top of the form), the only two lines that had to be filled out were the "First Name" and "Injury/Ailment" lines. Normally, people took the clipboard to a seat and filled out most of the information, with a few here and there leaving their address or last name blank. Jay watched as this man scanned the sheet, wrote Aiden and broken ankle under the appropriate sections, and pushed the clipboard back toward her with a look that almost dared her to question him.

Jay may have been a little surprised, but she was so used to not asking questions, that his look hardly fazed her. She smiled right back at him and she swore she saw a laugh in his eyes. Taking the form and clutching it to her chest, Jay motioned for Aiden to follow her with her other arm and held the door to the back area open for him. "Right this way." Once he was through, Jay had him follow her to the x-ray machine, his crutches clacking on the tile floor. "I'm Jay, by the way," she introduced herself as they walked down the corridor.

"Aiden," he answered back.

"It's nice to meet you, Aiden." Jay opened the door to the x-ray lab. "Right in here, please."

She set him up on the table, took a few x-rays, and, sure enough, his ankle was broken. It was a clean break, but it was out of position. It would need to be set and cast. Diagnosis and treatment wasn't up to her, though, as a nurse. So she led him to an exam room and asked him to wait while she fetched the doctor. "I'll be back in just a minute."

He sat down on the papered table and groaned as he scooted back and brought his injured leg up to rest on it. "I'm assuming it's broken," he said as she turned for the door.

"Yes." Jay wasn't supposed to give diagnoses, but she didn't see the harm in confirming it when it was so obviously broken.

Aiden met her eyes. "What's the prognosis?"

"That's not really for me to say. Give me just a minute and I'll have the doctor explain everything." She turned to leave again, but he didn't give up.

"I'm sure you've seen just as many broken ankles as that doctor. I want your opinion on it."

Jay turned back and looked into those piercing eyes, and she didn't know why, but a sudden feeling of trust came over her. She felt comfortable with this man in a way that she hadn't felt comfortable around any man since that day years ago.

It didn't hurt that Aiden was good-looking either.

"Off the record?" she found herself saying.

"Isn't everything here?" he replied, quirking his eyebrows.

She took a step toward Aiden. "Your bone is misaligned, but once we reset it, it shouldn't be anything a cast and some rest can't fix." He looked relieved at the news.

"Well, that's good."

Jay smiled. "Now, wait here and I'll be right back."

A smile lit his eyes in return. "Thanks."

Jay slipped out the door, her heart pounding a little in her ears. What was wrong with her? This man was no different than any other patient that came in. Yet she felt some weird connection to him that she couldn't explain.

Keep it professional, she told herself. Straightening her scrub top, Jay went down the hall to fetch the doctor.

Aiden smiled when Jay returned with another woman she introduced as Dr. Reinhart. As expected, Dr. Reinhart basically told Aiden everything Jay already had. He watched while they set things up on a table next to him.

Then Jay came up to him with a small tray with two full syringes on it while the doctor worked on removing the bandage on his ankle. Jay set the tray down and picked up an elastic band. "This is a painkiller and a sedative for us to set your bone," she explained, gesturing for his arm.

Aiden didn't oblige and, at Jay's questioning look, he shook his head and said, "That's ok, I don't want those." He always liked to have his wits about him when he was out in public. Not that he felt unsafe here, but he admittedly had become paranoid from being the Vigilante for so long. Plus, he was already taking prescription painkillers they had stored back at the Bunker, though he couldn't very well tell them that.

Jay looked back to the doctor who raised her eyebrows at the exchange but said nothing. She turned back to Aiden. "It's your choice, but I would highly recommend you take these. It can be quite painful. If it's a matter of cost, we can work with you on the bill."

"It's not." Aiden nodded to his ankle. "Just do it." He could see in her face that she knew he wasn't telling the whole truth and he found himself feeling a twinge of guilt about it. He liked this woman. She felt real in a way he hadn't expected to find. Maybe he just didn't get out often enough. In any case, she didn't question him, setting down the tray instead and joining the doctor at his ankle.

The two women placed their gloved hands on his ankle, looked to each other, and nodded. Dr. Reinhart turned to Aiden. "We need you to hold as still as you can for this." She gave him an encouraging nod. "On the count of three." She paused, clearly waiting for Aiden to acknowledge.

He gave a terse nod.

"One… t—"

White hot pain shot up Aiden's leg as they seized and twisted his ankle. A heaving groan escaped Aiden's grinding teeth and he gripped the edges of the table so hard, his knuckles turned white, the paper crunching underneath his palms. He barely managed to keep his leg still. He thought they were done, but they gave another wrench and Aiden cried out this time, the pain compounding. He ducked his head and swore just as the doctor said, "All done," and moved for the cast material.

Still holding his ankle in place, Jay leaned down until her face came into view. "Still with me?" she asked.

Breathing hard, Aiden lifted his head, saying through gritted teeth, "Yeah." He took a few steadying breaths. "I'll be fine."

"Just keep breathing. Deep breaths," she offered kindly, taking a deep breath herself in demonstration.

Aiden did as he was told, quickly regaining his composure. From there, it didn't take them long to cast his ankle. The doctor told him to keep off of it for a month and then come back and see them. Aiden nodded acquiescence even though he had no intention of coming back. Jay's eyes lit up with a laugh like she knew it too. Unaware of either of their thoughts, the doctor smiled and left.

Once she did, Jay spoke up. "You really should come back and see us. Or anyone. It doesn't have to be us. I would hate for such a simple fracture to turn into something worse for lack of care."

Swinging his legs off of the table, Aiden perched on the edge. "I'll think about." The weird thing was, he found himself actually thinking about it.

Jay's eyes suddenly shot to Aiden's side and filled with concern. "Oh my God, are you all right?"

Confused, Aiden lifted his arm and glanced down at his side. Shit. Blood had soaked through his hoodie over the bullet wound. His elevated blood pressure from the pain must have set it bleeding again. Aiden tried to play it cool. "Yeah, no, I'm fine."

Stepping toward him, Jay reached for the bottom of Aiden's hoodie. "Let me take a look at it. I don't want you walking out of here bleeding."

Clamping his arm down, Aiden snatched up his crutches and stood, turning his body away from Jay. He knew she'd see right through his caginess, but he didn't have any other choice than to lie. "I'm fine, really. I, uh, cut myself when I hurt my ankle. Nothing major. I just need to change the bandage is all."

She looked at him like she was trying to piece together a puzzle. In this part of town, Aiden could only imagine what kind of injuries walked through that door. And the causes behind them.

"I can change the bandage for you," Jay offered. "I won't even charge you for it."

Aiden read the subtext in her words, her face: Let me help you. I know you're more hurt than you're letting on. He met her glacially blue eyes and it struck him how beautiful they were, framed by the stray strands of hair that had fallen from her fiery pony tail.

"It's fine," he insisted.

For a second, it looked like she would push back, but she softened and said, "If you need help with it, you know where to find me." She flushed a deep shade of red, though she didn't break eye contact. "Us, the… the clinic, I mean."

Aiden smirked, half relieved that she had let it go and half amused at her fumble. "Thanks again." When he felt a tinge of warmth spreading to his cheeks as well, Aiden made for the door.

She led him back to the front desk where the receptionist checked him out, Jay standing there all the while. The receptionist kept making surreptitious glances back at Jay and Aiden didn't know what to make of it until she told him the total charge for the day and then blurted out, "Jay does house calls too sometimes, you know. For minor injuries," and handed him a card with a phone number written on the back.

Jay's whole face went bright red. She rounded on the receptionist. "Gabbie!"

Gabbie didn't seem to care. She continued on with a flagrant smile, pointing at the card. "That's her personal number right there."

Sensing Jay's dismay, Aiden offered the card back to Jay. "Oh, I, uh, I appreciate that, but you don't have to give this to me." Why was he stumbling through his words?

With obvious embarrassment, Jay pushed his hand with the card back toward him. "No it's ok, you… you keep that. I… just in case."

Gabbie did nothing to hide her amusement at the situation.

Aiden tucked the card in his pocket and handed some cash to Gabbie, the rest of the transaction accompanied by awkward silence. When Gabbie handed Aiden his receipt, both Gabbie and Jay chimed at the same time, "Have a nice day!"

Grinning, Aiden nodded at Gabbie, then met Jay's eyes and said, "You too."

He made it a few steps toward the door before Jay called after him. "We'll see you in a month!"

Huffing a laugh, Aiden stopped and half turned, holding a hand up in acknowledgement and farewell. When he turned back to the door, hushed whispers were flung back and forth behind him.

He walked out the door laughing under his breath, an amused smile on his face.

"What are you so happy about?" T-bone asked as Aiden came down the stairs into the Bunker.

Wiping off the grin he didn't realize was on his face, Aiden replied, "Nothing. Where are we with the flash drive?"

Sighing, T-bone sat in the wheeled chair at the desk and spun around to face the wall of screens. "Not far. Not only is the drive corrupted, but the data is encrypted as well. It seems the Viceroys stepped up security since our last encounter. It could take weeks to get anything out of this."

Aiden propped himself against the desk next to T-bone. "Well, it's not like I'm going anywhere anyway. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You could find me the encryption key, but I don't think that's going to happen." T-bone eyed Aiden's leg.

"Right, well, keep working on it. Thanks, T-bone." Standing, Aiden made for the medical bay.

From behind him, T-bone called out, "Nice cast!" in an I-told-you-so kind of way. Aiden sincerely wished he had a hand free to flip T-bone off, but he ignored him instead.

"You're bleeding, you know!" came another shout from behind Aiden.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Aiden called back, heading down the stairs to change his bandage.

Once he had cleaned himself up, Aiden threw his bloodied clothes in the wash and returned to his quarters, pulling on a fresh t-shirt. He sat down on his cot with a weary groan and pulled the card from his pocket, turning it over in his hands.

He had no intention of calling that number. He didn't really know why he had taken it in the first place. But he couldn't bring himself to throw it out either. After a moment's hesitation, Aiden slid the card under the lamp on his bedside table. It was just in case he needed medical help, he told himself.

Nothing more.

Besides, he needed as many friends in that line of work as he could get. He was lucky he and T-bone were able to take care of his injuries to this point. Aiden hated to admit it, but he had barely made it out of that last gunfight. He wasn't getting any younger and he could feel his injuries starting to stack up against him.

T-bone's words from the night he had stolen the flash drive rang in his head: That was reckless. If he was honest with himself, he had been more reckless the last month. And, if he was even more honest with himself, he knew why. The anniversary of Lena's death was coming up in two weeks, a day that cast a shadow over Aiden's life every year. A shadow that occluded any other feeling besides guilt and dragged Aiden down into darkness. After all these years, Aiden couldn't let that feeling go, couldn't stop the rage that followed. As much as he blamed himself, he blamed Lucky Quinn, and by extension, the entire South Club.

Lucky Quinn was dead, but the South Club was still thriving. Maybe that was why Aiden fought so hard to bring down their trafficking ring. If he could do that, eliminate it for good, he would strike a major blow against them.

He couldn't let them win.

Anger, frustration, and restlessness flooded him as he realized he could do nothing for another month at least. They were out there, wreaking havoc on the city, getting away with it, and he could do nothing.

Aiden hung his head, running his hands through his hair as he let out a pent-up sigh.

How could he have been so stupid? It was likely they would get nothing from the flash drive and now they would get a month's head start on whatever they were planning next. There was only so much Aiden could glean from hacking cameras and phone calls. He needed to be on the streets. He hadn't been this close to useful intel in years and now he felt further from it than ever.

Aiden tried to calm his breathing, but a fit of rage overtook him and he flung his crutches against the wall with a cry. They clattered to the floor and a minute later, T-bone came rushing into the room, looking concerned.

"Oh." He stopped short when he found Aiden sitting on the bed. "I heard a crash. I thought maybe you had fallen."

Leaning back against the wall, Aiden stared resolutely ahead. "I'm fine."

T-bone didn't move. "Aiden," he started, with so much worry in his voice that Aiden couldn't bear it.

"I'm fine." Aiden cut T-bone off, glaring pointedly at him.

With a demeanor that showed he could see right through Aiden's bullshit, T-bone backed off. "Right. I'll just get back to work then."

Once T-bone was gone, Aiden leaned his head back against the wall again, letting out a sigh.

It was going to be a long month.

Over the next two weeks, thoughts of Lena consumed Aiden, drowned him. On the best of years, Aiden was reckless, more brutal during this time. Those that were stupid enough to cross his path or stand in his way wouldn't leave the hospital for months. This year, with nothing to distract him, no thugs to take out his anger on, Aiden was in a bad place by the time the anniversary of Lena's death rolled around.

T-bone was avoiding him, Aiden could tell, and he didn't blame him. Couldn't bear his company anyway. When Aiden left to visit Lena's grave that night, T-bone was nowhere to be found. Aiden was grateful for it. It would spare him the awkward silence that fell when T-bone was trying to be supportive. Aiden was in no state to be gracious about it.

So, Aiden crutched his way to the car and drove to Lena's grave, stopping along the way to buy a bouquet of flowers and a little teddy bear, every second stewing in his own guilt and anger.

By the time he pulled up to the graveyard and walked down the path to Lena's headstone, darkness had fallen over Chicago.

Aiden brushed the leaves off the top of the headstone and knelt to place the flowers and bear by the base. He gingerly traced the lettering of her name. "I'm so sorry, Lena," he spoke into the night.

He would never forgive himself for her death. How could he? He should have died in that crash, not her.

The world would have been a better place if he had.

Aiden's breath plumed out in front of him and he closed his eyes as he struggled to bear the weight of her death, the graveyard utterly silent around him. He always visited this time of night because no one else was around. But this year, that darkness, that emptiness, crushed him.

The thought of being alone right now devastated Aiden.

Before he could comprehend what he was doing, Aiden had pulled out his phone and punched in a number. One that he had found himself looking at every night for the last two weeks and so he knew it by heart.

He pushed the green button and pressed the phone to his ear.

Jay was sitting on her couch eating dinner, watching the episode of "Dancing with the Stars" she had recorded the night before when her phone rang.

She didn't recognize the number, but picked up anyway, pausing the show. "This is Jay." The only thing she heard was what sounded like wind. She narrowed her eyebrows. "Hello?"

A man's voice came over the line. It sounded strained. "Uh, hi. Um… this is Aiden. From the clinic. The… the guy with the broken ankle a couple weeks ago."

Jay's eyes widened. She had been thinking about him off and on since that day, Gabbie teasing her relentlessly about it. It was suddenly very warm in her house. "Oh! Oh, hi. How… how are you?" She rolled her eyes at herself.

There was a pause and then Aiden stammered, "Yeah, I, uh…"

The pain in his voice immediately sobered Jay's mood. She could hear him sigh and she was about to speak when he cut back in.

"Never mind. I..I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you. This, this was a mistake. I'm sorry…"

She could sense he was about to hang up. "Wait!" She remembered that day when he'd come in. She didn't know what he had been hiding, but he was clearly not one to ask for help. "Wait. Aiden? Are you there?" For a second, Jay thought he had gone and she lifted the phone from her ear to see if the line was still connected. Then a quiet, "Yeah," came over the phone and she jammed it back to her ear. "Are you hurt?"

He almost laughed at that. "I, no. No, uh…"

Jay was at a loss, but the hair was standing up on the back of her neck. This man was in pain. Whether physical or otherwise, she didn't know. And before she knew what she was doing, she blurted out, "Let's meet. Let's get a drink. Charlie's, in an hour." She wasn't giving him a choice. "I'll see you there, ok?"

Silence filled the line once more.

"Aiden?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll see you there."

Then the call dropped.

Jay's heart was pounding. But not for the reason it was earlier when she had realized who had called. She threw her plate in the fridge, pulled on her shoes and jacket, grabbed her purse, and hurried out the door.

Charlie's was Jay's favorite bar. They had good food, strong drinks, and a bartender who wasn't afraid to send men who thought they were God's gift to the world packing. There was a crowd tonight, but not so large that Jay couldn't find a table. She sat at a booth facing the door, ordered herself a beer, and waited.

And waited.

An hour and a half went by since Aiden had hung up and Jay's heart plummeted thinking that he would never show. She told herself she would wait there all night if she had to, but Aiden hobbled through the door fifteen minutes later.

Relieved, Jay waved him over.

He ordered a scotch as he sat down. "Hey," was all he said, managing a half smile.

Aiden seemed to have calmed down from whatever state he was in when he had called, though the only thought that came to Jay's mind was—broken. He looked so broken. She didn't push him. She knew if she did, he would probably walk away.

When he got his drink, he downed it in one and finally looked Jay in the eye. "I'm late, I know. I'm sorry. Uh, to be honest… I didn't think I'd come."

Now that she could see him, Jay could clearly see that Aiden wasn't hurt physically. At least, no more than the last time she had seen him. Yet weariness hunched his shoulders and something worse darkened his eyes. "What's going on?" she asked plainly. Small talk was pointless.

He struggled, clenching and unclenching his jaw. He lowered his eyes and opened his mouth as if he would speak, only to close it again. This went on for minutes, maybe more. Jay couldn't tell. She stayed silent, feeling like if she spoke, he would close up and leave. And if he left right now, she would never see him again. Somehow she knew that. The medical part of her was concerned for his well-being, but it was more than that. She didn't know why, but she cared. She cared about this devastated man in front of her that she barely knew. So she let him think, let him find his voice.

And he finally did.

Aiden swallowed and met her eyes once more. "I, uh, I lost someone. My niece. Three years ago today." He paused, pain on his face like every word was a bullet to his heart. "I was driving and the car…crashed. And she… didn't make it. She was six," he added, the disgust for himself evident in his voice.

Oh, God. No wonder he was in such a state. "It wasn't your fault." It was such a generic platitude, offered to those with guilt in their hearts. But Jay didn't know what else to say.

He laughed at her statement, his eyes swimming. "Yeah, no, it…it really was."

The laugh was what made her nearly believe him. She still didn't want to, but what did she know about him? Had he been drunk? Fallen asleep at the wheel? She didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to help him. She just had to keep him talking.

"What was her name?"

"Lena."

"What was Lena like?"

Aiden's eyes dropped in memory. "She was… kind, smart, just a bundle of energy. She loved to dance. She was always asking me to play a song for her on my phone so she could dance to it. One time, we had just had Thanksgiving dinner and she asked me to play her favorite song." Aiden smiled, some light touching his eyes. "I did and she started spinning and spinning, laughing the whole time. Until she stopped all of a sudden and threw up right in the middle of the living room."

Jay chuckled at that and Aiden joined in.

He went on, a solemn smile still etched on his face. "I would have done anything for her." He shook his head, the light in his eyes falling. "Instead, I—"

"Hey," Jay cut in, reaching out to put a hand on Aiden's arm. "Stop. You can't think like that." She sat up straighter, putting as much emphasis into her words as she could. "I don't know the full story here. I don't know what happened. But I know that someone who is this distraught over something like that cannot be a bad person." She repeated, "You're not a bad person."

Aiden's lips twitched at that, though he didn't say anything. After a moment, he withdrew his hand and, like he suddenly realized where he was, he said, "I should go." He threw some cash on the table and scooted to the edge of the seat. It was almost like he was afraid. "I'm sorry. I, I should go," he stammered as he pulled himself to his feet with his crutches. He made to leave, but Jay grabbed his arm and stopped him, willing strength and truth into her words.

"Even if, if, it was your fault," she conceded, "that doesn't mean that there's nothing left for you in this world. You can still do good. Even if you've done bad." She tenderly squeezed his arm. "Don't give up on that."

He seemed almost stunned and searched her eyes for a moment. Then he turned and left.

The next few days were fraught with worry for Jay. She went to call Aiden to check on him, but somehow his number wasn't in her call logs anymore.

Jay panicked, realizing she had no way to contact him. No way of knowing how he was. She could only hope that she had done enough to help him.

Even if she never knew, even if she never saw him again, she hoped he was ok.

Aiden had left the bar that night unsure what to think. He drove around aimlessly for an hour before he had driven himself to the east harbor and just sat there, staring out at the black water.

Why had her words affected him so much? He hardly knew her. But she was the only one who had admitted that it was his fault. Half-heartedly, but still. No one else had done that. And it was almost like her saying it allowed him to let go of it a little. Because now someone else knew too. He didn't have to hold that truth alone.

Her other words rang through his mind as well: You can still do good. He could still make a difference. That, at least, he had already been trying to do. Bringing down the South Club could make a real change in Chicago. He couldn't give up on that mission. Lena deserved it. To see them taken down.

Aiden hadn't realized he had sat on that bench all night until the sky lightened and the sun rose, gleaming, over the water. With its warmth seeping into him, Aiden headed back to the Bunker.

T-bone was sitting at the desk when Aiden walked in.

"You're home late," he quipped.

Ignoring his jab, Aiden got straight to the point. "How's the flash drive coming?"

"Getting there. Maybe another week or so. Though it doesn't look good data-wise."

This wasn't news to Aiden. He knew they'd be lucky if they got anything at all off that drive. "If we don't get anything, we'll find another way," Aiden said, accepting the truth. He then headed for his quarters. He was exhausted.

"Aiden," T-bone called out. When Aiden stopped and turned, T-bone, knowing what day last night had been, asked, "You ok?"

Aiden nodded, answering, "Yeah. I'm ok." And was surprised to find that he really meant it.