Devil's in the Details and Maybe Also Bleeding Out On Her Dinner Table

Soldier 76 limped along next to the little boy, keeping his pain silent and hiding the extent of his injuries. Little brat's father was the target of some very rich and powerful men, and by extension he was too. If he hadn't been there, the kid would have been another rallying cry for politicians seeking election. He just had to make sure he got home safe. He supposed he could have simply followed the kid on the rooftops, but his leg was fractured(and he would have been terrified by himself in the dark). he was chattering nervously to him, and the vigilante would nod every few seconds to make him believe he was listening.

"Senor?" The little boy was looking at him expectantly.

"Hmm?" he muttered, still watching the shadows and the rooftops. "Repeat it, I wasn't paying attention."

"I was wondering why the news people all call you a criminal, even though you help people and beat up bad guys. Aren't you a hero?"

He snorted.

"I'm no hero kid. I'm just doing what I've always done. I'm a soldier."

The little boy frowned at him as if he'd just said something stupid, and he couldn't help but smirk under the visor.

"If you are not a hero, why did you beat up those men and save me?"

Jack shrugged.

"It was the right thing to do. You don't have to be a hero to do the right thing." Soldier put his attention back to the road ahead and noticed the kid's house on the right. "There it is kid. Go to bed, and no more sneaking out."

He watched the kid run to the doorway and turn around to begin limping his way back to the abandoned church he was staying at for the time being. Before he got four steps he heard the hammer cock back. By the time he turned around the shot went off, and he saw the kid fly back and fall on his back, spasming on the ground and dark liquid pooling on the sidewalk as dark figures sprinted out of the house into the night. No. nonononoNO. Soldier ran after them, gaining rapidly, until he got to the boy and Jack froze. The kid was in bad shape. He needed to get to the hospital now, or he wasn't going to make it, as it was Jack could tell he would never walk again. But he couldn't just let those thugs get away with this. Looking back and forth between the receding figures and the little boy, he made his decision.

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Angela was sitting down to a delicious leftover roast chicken from the restaurant she'd spoken at last night when she heard a slamming on her door, three precise, heavy raps of a fist. Since she wasn't interested in entertaining another of her neighbor charlie's wild date proposals, she ignored it. And heard it again, harder and somehow sloppier. She frowned. Was the man drunk?

Sighing and looking regretfully at her chicken, she walked over to the door and opened it in a huff, fully prepared to give Charlie a piece of her mind and significantly less prepared to catch a barely conscious Soldier 76 as he slumped forward, covered in blood. By some miracle she managed to avoid being bowled over by the man's weight and immediately felt her heart go cold as she felt his blood soaking her clothes and saw it pooling on the floor from his visor.

"Dammit Jack," She felt her fear clawing at her eyes as they started to prick, "What on EARTH did you do to yourself now?"

He tried to mumble something about overtaxing and spines.

"Nevermind, I don't want to know." She said, shivering at what that could possibly mean.

Supporting him with her shoulder, she led him to her kitchen table and carelessly swept its contents onto the floor so she could lay him down. After yanking the mans signature jacket off and removing his visor, her stomach plummeted at what she saw. His torso was covered in cuts, bruises, and at least two bullet holes and there was a steady stream of blood coming from his mouth.

"Dammit jack!" She shouted, tears falling as she started stemming the bleeding. There was a lot of damage. "Was it really worth it? Was killing some thugs really worth nearly killing yourself?

She was to focused to really pay attention to his reply, but she caught the her name, over and over. Eventually he fell unconscious. Finally, after 6 hours and 7 hours of nanite therapy she was able to fix the worst of the damage, though he wouldn't be able to move with any real strength for at least a month, even with his accelerated healing. What on earth had he done to himself? Knowing him, there was already a small mountain of corpses on the news, and for once she really wanted to know what had happened to have him destroy himself so thoroughly. Falling wearily onto the couch, she flipped to the news and braced herself for the disappointment and the pain in her chest she always felt when she saw Jack's deeds on the news.

"Our top story tonight is the latest sighting of the infamous vigilante soldier 76, who according to eyewitnesses was seen sprinting through the local hospital doors with the gravely injured son of attorney general Maxwell Kaplan. The boy was immediately rushed to surgery where he still remains, and while doctors are now confident the boy will most likely survive they are sadly also certain he will never walk again. The Vigilante immediately fled the scene after seeing the boy safely to the OR, and eye witness reports claim that he himself was heavily bleeding with multiple cuts and lacerations as well as what appeared to be a severe case of asthma due to wheezing breath. In related news the three men implicated in the attempted murder of the kaplan boy have been apprehended by police, and all three have apparently suffered massive trauma to the legs and spine, though all three are still allegedly alive."

Angela stared in shock at the soldier on the table. Perhaps, she thought, Jack Morrison was alive after all.