A nearby streetlight flickered on as dusk crept over Prodigal Heights. Crowds of people filled the busy district, pushing past one another on their venture home for the remainder of the day. Though for some, it was their nightshift. Fluorescent pink light glowed over loitering teens in an alley who were getting their fix, and carrying on with casual conversation. A.I.s mixed in a gathered cluster of civilians ranged from human to cyborg as they all watched a street performer. Onlookers occasionally inserted their U-drives into a gadget to give tips.

The night was alive. Neon colors painted the streets in a variety of pinks, blues, and reds. Ad screens displayed their products with vigor along the towering buildings. Eager swarms of arena-goers were lining up outside of Le Serpent Rouge, waiting impatiently to get a front row seat and cheer on their favorite contenders. An apparatus in the lobby collected their bets, and within an hour of their arrival, the fights were underway. The clamorous multitude of voices roared loudly through the lobby, past the entrance, and out into the streets.

The car Léon stole to get to Rue de Vieux Orléans was still parked where he left it, under a faint yellow street light outside Roxette's apartment. City ambience in the distance amplified the sleepy atmosphere, but Roxette's living room hardly felt the same.

Joliet had gone to the bathroom to look over, and tend to, whatever abrasions her body may have taken during the fight with Nega Nancy. While she was there, she overheard the conversation from the living room.

Roxette's eyes squeezed shut to the sting of a needle sewing her wound closed. Eponine was sitting on the floor babbling and smacking her toys together, while Léon tended to the deep cuts on Roxette's body.

"I know," he consoled. "It's okay. I'm almost done."

She sucked breath through gritted teeth. "Ahh…"

Making a final loop, he pulled the thread and made a small knot. "Alright." His thumb rubbed her arm to comfort her. "It's okay. You did good." After cutting the string, he laid the scissors and the needle down on the coffee table next to antiseptic, cotton balls, and bandages. The mere touch of his fingers brushing her curls out of her face and behind her ear was soothing, especially when his knuckles affectionately stroked over the faint scars on her cheek.

His voice was low and calm. "Roxy… I need you to tell me who did this to you."

"No one did, it was an accident." Her eyes wandered to the empty sofa cushion next to her. Léon knew better. He pressed her for the truth, but through it all, he remained gentle.

"Listen: I know how accidental injuries look, and these cuts tell me this was no accident." He eyed her sternly. "It was a knife, wasn't it. Somebody attacked you."

The weight of her emotions formed a knot in her chest. Roxette's throat tightened, punctuating each word she spoke after with sadness. "Yeah…" she whispered. "...I mean, it was broken glass. But everything's fine now, the prefects arrested them."

She half-expected him to get angry with her for not outright saying it to begin with. Hell, even reprimand her a little bit. Much to her relief, he did neither. Upon hearing her tell the truth, his head sank onto his palms and he let out a rough sigh. Roxette could feel the stress radiating off of him like heat from a fire as they sat in silence, side-by-side. The only other sound in the room being Eponine bonking her toy hammer on a block. Inhaling through his nose, he lifted his head and looked at her.

"What'd they look like?" he asked, his tone still as calm as before.

"Small…"

His brows furled and he let out a soft chuff. "Uhhhh, that's not much to go on."

"Alright, fine!" she cried, tears welling in her eyes. "It was a short girl with pink hair, okay?!" Hysteria overcame her, taking him aback by her reaction. "I wish I'd never went on that stupid walk. Go ahead! Tell me I deserved it; every choice I make is a mistake!" Her voice cracked on the word mistake as she flung her face into her hands and wept. "That's all I am…"

Everything Léon was hearing come out of her mouth broke his heart. Especially the part about her believing she was a mistake. He related to that one all too well. Though he didn't quite understand what was ailing her to the point this was a burden she had to deal with. He wanted to ask, but resisted. If she decided to explain it on her own volition, he'd gladly lend an ear. Right now, all he wanted to do was offer any comfort he could give her.

"Heyheyheyheyhey." Scooting closer to her, he wrapped his arms around her and brought her close for a hug. He leaned his cheek to her head, resting it there as he let her cry it all out. "Don't ever say that about yourself, Roxy," he whispered. "Because none of it's true, you hear me? Sometimes shit just happens. It can't be helped, and it's not your fault."

Leaning away from her, his hands caressed her face and gently tilted it upwards. Lamenting brown eyes gazed deeply into his, causing his heart to sink lower until it was borderline collapsing. "The important thing is that you're okay." Léon leaned his forehead to hers.

"JC?"

"Yeah?"

Roxette shifted. "Say you were doing something you felt was best for you, and it made you happy, but another person is always criticizing you for it. How do you get over the feeling that you could be making a bad decision?"

Joliet crept up the hallway and honed in, not wanting to interrupt their important discussion.

A look of thought formed on Léon's face. "Well, I think the important thing to ask yourself is: are your decisions hurting anybody?"

Roxette shook her head.

"Then honestly it doesn't matter. As long as you're happy, fuck what others think." Leaning forward, he picked up Eponine and sat her on his shoulders. "The only person's opinion that matters is yours and this little thing's right here, hehe."

Eponine trilled her lips, making babbling sounds as she gripped handfuls of Léon's hair and pulled it. His cry of pain was quiet and breathy. Roxette couldn't help but laugh at him while she took Eponine down from his shoulders, and sat her in her lap.

"You know, JC, sometimes I wish you and I lived together."

Léon's cheeks burned red. "Wha — ah, really?"

She nodded, smiling warmly at him. "You're the only father figure Eponine has ever had." Her smile faltered, and he couldn't help but notice despondence in her eyes when she looked down.

Concerned for her unspoken disconsolation, he placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "I don't mind being here for you when I can. I mean, I know what it's like having a deadbeat dad… the way I see it, it doesn't matter if she's my kid or not. Eponine deserves a good role model in her life."

The inner corners of Joliet's brows turned upward, and a sympathetic frown formed on her face.

"Do you think we'll live together one day?"

Léon hesitated. As much as he wanted to say yes, he worried about his criminal life endangering them. And there he was, once again, knowing he couldn't be near them as often as he would like.

He rubbed the nape of his neck. "Ahhh, well…"

Joliet walked out, smiling with her hands on her hips. "All taken care of," she said, showing them the faint scratches on her forearm.

Roxette looked at her. "Oh, that's good!"

Léon couldn't believe he was thinking it, but he was actually grateful for Joliet waltzing into the room. He breathed a mild sigh of relief. Feeling something vibrating in the pocket of his jacket, he reached in and pulled out his cellphone. As the motion prompted the screen to light up, a double-digit number made him shoot up from where he was sitting. He howled in terror.

"Ninety-seven fucking missed calls?! What…?!" He scoured through his notifications, a hard, uncomfortable weight of dread expanding in his stomach.

Five of the seventy-two text messages read:

Where are you?!

Please answer!

Léon this isn't funny answer the phone

Please say something! It's been several hours!

HELLO?

"Ahhh, putain!"

"JC, what's wrong?"

"I gotta go. I haven't said shit to my mom since the car wreck."

Roxette shot him a horrified look. "Car wreck?! What car wreck?!"

"It's… a long story."

After sitting Eponine on the floor with her toys, she rose up to meet his gaze with worry written on her face. "You couldn't have told me about this earlier?! JC!"

He grinned anxiously as she crossed her arms and scowled. "Ahhh…?"

"Are you out of your mind?!" she scolded.

Léon reached out and rubbed her arms as an attempt to calm her down. "Roxy, it's okay. I'm not even hurt that bad."

"That bad..." Roxette's gaze hardened on him. "So, you are kind of hurt then?"

"Subconsciously, he reached up to his obscured knife wound. "Nnnnnoooo…?"

"Let me see."

"See what?"

"You know what! Let me see!"

"Aww, come on," he pouted. "I told you. I wasn't hurt that bad at all, see?" He outstretched his arms as a way to hopefully convince her.

"Then why are you acting suspicious?" She leaned closer, narrowing her eyes.

Joliet's attention darted back and forth between the two as they bickered. She sighed, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Look," Léon said, waving his hands in front of him. "It's not what you think, okay? I'm fine." Again, he reached out, but this time it was to pull her into him for a tight hug. Roxette's face was a mixture of stunned and reciprocal of the affection he was giving her. Her arms slowly made their way around his back, and she returned the hug.

Whew! That worked.

"I could have lost you, y'know…" she lamented.

"Yeah. But you didn't." He stood up from leaning his head next to her ear, his loving embrace still wrapped around her as he flashed her a smile. "Sorry, babe, but you're not that lucky." Giving her a flick to the forehead, he chuckled.

Roxette couldn't help but laugh a little bit, although she was obviously doing everything in her power not to break her stern attitude. "Oh, you think you're so funny."

Her words fueled his laughter. These were the moments he adored the most; seeing her mad side was the cutest thing. Though, in all seriousness, he had to admit she wasn't wrong for how she felt. To be honest, it made him feel downright guilty for not telling her the truth as often as he should. But he would continue to evoke her wrath with mischief to mask how he was actually feeling. It was all worth it just to watch her adorable face scrunch up at him like an angry chipmunk.

As she glared at him with puffed up cheeks, and furled brows, Léon couldn't resist the temptation to pinch her cheeks. Taunting her in a lighthearted manner. "Awwww, what is this?! You're like a cute widdle bunny wabbit with a mad face, look at you!"

"Léonnnn!" she warned. Things really couldn't be good if she was using his middle name.

"Comme c'est mignon!"

Joliet scoffed in disgust and turned the other way, sauntering towards Roxette's kitchen. She didn't want to hear another second more of this foolishness.

"Such a cute widdle wabbit!" he teased.

Roxette chuckled deviously. "Oh, this cute widdle wabbit is about to get real freaking adorable… if you don't want me to hurt you, you'd better knock it off."

He flashed her a playful look that was practically daring her. "Cute. Little. Rabbit." Each word's last two letters were emphasized solely to push her buttons.

"Okay, that's it." Rushing over to her sofa, she snatched a throw pillow and stormed her way back towards him, hoisting it over her shoulder with a smug grin on her face.

Léon backpedaled, raising his hands faux-defensively. "Oh, nononono, we don't have to get violent, do we? Ma cherie, ma moitié. Can't we talk about this?"

"Too late." She swatted him in the cranium with the pillow and exhaled breathy chortles.

Faking a stunned reaction, he made doubly sure to have the most fake, yet believable, irate expression known to man as he slowly turned his gaze back at her. Roxette's smile faltered. Oh, yeah. Now it was personal.

As he quickly swept her off her feet, she yelped and was thrown onto the couch with a pronounced fwoof! Léon laughed, kneeling and pinning her down by her wrists.

"Oh, you're such a jerk!"

He chuffed. "You know you like it."

Roxette failed to conceal a laugh. "Shut up."

Before she could say anything else, he planted a long kiss on her pastel colored lips. Tiny hands could be felt beside him as Eponine's legs wobbled to a stand.

"Da-da-da-da-da." She let go of the couch for only a few seconds, causing her to wobble some more until she completely lost her balance and plopped down on the carpet. Her neutral expression twisted into a foul frown. Short hiccupy cries then prompted the water works to flow from tightly shut eyes. Léon snapped his head around to high-pitched, squealy sobs.

"Aww, what happened?!" He scooped her up in his arms. "Did you fall down again?"

Both Roxette and Léon comforted their little angel, their sides closely knit as he rubbed soothing strokes up and down her back. It was the perfect picture of a wholesome family, something Léon never wanted to lose as long as he lived. For once, his future looked clear. He'd be Eponine's father, and he'd someday ask Roxette to marry him. What more could he want?

Eponine's sobs subsided as she laid her head against Léon's chest and eyed one of the buttons on his jacket. Her tiny fingers grabbed it, shoving it into her slobbery mouth. Chuckling to himself, Léon pulled it out.

"Nottt what that's for, kiddo."

When that provoked her to cry harder, Roxette poked a finger to her chin. "Do you think she's hungry?"

Léon shook his head, smiling. "Nah, I just fed her. I know what she needs." Reaching over to the coffee table, he picked up a frozen teething ring and handed it to Eponine. The way she gnawed and chewed it immediately had impressed Joliet, who was still waiting for Léon's okay to leave the apartment.

"Poor thing has a tooth coming in," he said. "She keeps rubbing her eyes, so it won't be long before bedtime."

Roxette smiled at him. "She's so lucky to have you in her life."

"Yeah. Well, I'm just as lucky to have her in mine."

Vibrations emanating from his jacket pocket brought his happy moment crumbling to an end, reminding him that he couldn't stay. As much as he really wanted to, his mother needed him home. He sighed, knowing he'd better have a damn good explanation for why he didn't call her after the accident. Léon handed Eponine to Roxette, then he rose up from the couch and stretched.

"Alright, better get my ass home; mom's having a meltdown."

"When will you be back?" Roxette asked.

"It depends on what kind of work my boss will have me doing, but I'll do my best to come see you as soon as I can."

"Pinky promise?"

He chuckled. "Pinky promise, ma papillon."

Joliet reentered the room and followed him to the door.

"Hey, wait!" Roxette called out.

"Huh?"

"JC, is it okay if Joliet stays with me?"

He looked at her incredulously, then to Joliet. "Uhhh…?"

Although he was giving it some thought, Joliet didn't hesitate to answer. "Of course. I don't mind."

Léon shot her a look. "You know this side of Skid Row isn't the safest for bots, right?"

Joliet tensed up at the mention of the word. "Androids," she corrected in a vexed tone.

"Whatever. The point is you already got into a fight with Hell Patrol today. If you stay here, you could be putting Roxette and Eponine's lives at risk. Think about that for a second."

"Or," she rebutted. "I could be protecting them. Think about that."

"Wha…?!" Léon facepalmed and let out an annoyed groan. "You don't get it, do you? If these assholes knew you were here, they could come in and kill Roxette and the baby. Is that what you want?!"

Joliet's confidence wavered. "I… no."

Roxette walked over with sleepy Eponine in her arms. "JC… I understand where you're coming from, but Joliet saved my life. She's why I'm still here."

Léon sighed. "Maybe, but —"

"I'd love it if she stayed. Nobody has to know she's here; we'll protect each other."

Neither of them were going to give up trying to convince him, he figured. There were a lot more reasons as to why he was so wary of allowing it: Hell Patrol was a factor, to which he'd already made clear. Then there was Roxette and Eponine's well-being. He didn't want them to get involved, nor find out he was part of a gang himself. Another was that if Quiet Riot were going to help her get back to the capital safely, that put them having to drive into another gang's territory quite often.

He wasn't sure if the risks were worth taking the chance. But on the other hand, Roxette had made friends with her, and it wasn't like he was going to be a dick about not wanting her to stay all on account of him not liking Joliet. Then he got to thinking: if Roxette liked her, she must have had some redeeming qualities he just wasn't aware of. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Léon couldn't bear the pressure of finalizing the decision. If this really was what Roxette wanted, he didn't want to upset her by telling her no.

Unable to withstand the pressure of deciding what was best, he sighed harshly and waved a hand. "Alright, fine. She can stay with you if she wants. But don't go out there, got it?"

Joliet rolled her eyes and nodded.

"Listen. I'm not trying to be an ass about this, I'm serious. I know how relentless these dickheads are. They're probably scouring the streets looking for you as we speak."

"But they don't know I'm here," she said.

"Yeah? Well, keep it that way."

"Don't worry, JC," Roxette spoke up with cheer in her voice. "I've got this whole thing under control." She winked at him.

Léon smiled. "You better. Well, I gotta get going." He stepped towards Roxette and caressed her face. "Call me if you need something, or if things get ugly. Alright?"

"I will."

He leaned down and smooched her lips, said his goodbyes, then headed out the door. Traipsing up the hall, all he could worry about was what Angus would say about all of this. He'd probably crawl his ass, knowing him. Great. Just fucking great. And then there was Léon's mom to consider. What kind of ass chewing was she going to be giving him when he got home? That thought made him shudder; he'd sooner get scolded by Angus than her any day. The horror.

As he suspected. Each prolonged, daunting step up the staircase wasn't a result of overthinking the situation. Léon's mother was rightfully furious. As soon as the door came open, the first thing he saw were two scorching hot coals beaming with anger right at him. He buckled in fear, and she went all in.

Through the walls of their apartment, and from outside the building, people could hear indistinct shouting. His mother's silhouette passed by a window, showcasing her gestures whilst she lit into him. All Léon could do was cower on the couch, occasionally giving her a stuttery yes, mom or no, mom.

Even Ozzy shyly ducked his head at Léon's side, which was a place he rarely wanted to be. Sherry peeped from her bedroom doorway, snickering at the show unfolding.

"What kind of son doesn't call his mother to let her know he's okay?!" she roared.

"Ah -"

"It's sad that I get a call from the prefects about Ramone getting in an accident, only to find out you're not there?! The person he was supposed to be taking to the hospital?! What the hell was going through your mind that you didn't stay and call an ambulance?!"

Léon rose up from the couch and beseeched her, "Mom, I'm really sorry…"

"Sorry isn't going to bring Ramone back from the dead. You've been gone an entire day without letting me know where you are, and what you're doing."

"Maman, I mean no disrespect when I say this, but don't you think you're being a little extreme right now? I'm 23 years old. I'm a grown man. I don't need you holding my hand all the time."

Léon's mother kindly, yet firmly, grasped his shoulders, trying desperately not to raise her voice. "Léon…" she said through a clench-toothed smile. "...mon garçon, mon ange, my sweet, sweet precious boy… I am your mother. I care so, so, so much for your safety. I love you. Worrying for you comes with the territory of being a parent, okay?"

"Why are you talking to me like I'm a baby?"

She gritted her teeth hard enough she'd chip a tooth. "Please, honey. I'm trying really hard not to lose my shit right now. You're not helping."

He begrudgingly gave her the floor to keep talking, rolling his eyes to the wall.

"Okay. Now listen," she said. "You may be a grown man, but it doesn't excuse you from not calling me after the wreck, okay? It just shows you're irresponsible, and I know you're better than that."

Léon could feel his spike in annoyance. He knew his story, but how the fuck was he supposed to tell it? "Alright. Fine. You're right. Can I please explain myself now?"

"There's no need to. I already know everything."

He scrunched his face at her. The fuck did she just say? "Wait. How?"

"According to my sources, you were driving around Prodigal Heights with a robot girl." Her gaze darkened, as she looked up at him. "Care to explain why?"

Discomfort burrowed into his body like a rat chewing a hole through his innards. His thoughts were too jumbled to speak, too inarticulate to know what even he was trying to say. All that stood out was: How the fuck does she know all this? And in that moment, it was all he wanted to press her for.

His mother's voice was low, almost threatening. "You know I don't like bots, Léon. You know the reasons why, too. Do I mean so little to you that you'd rather take some stupid machine on a joyride than call your mother to let her know you're alive? Haven't I raised you better than that? Isn't human interaction much more meaningful to you, or do you prefer soulless ones?"

His heart panged. Admittedly, he didn't care for talking with Joliet, but he'd willingly admit without hesitation that having a conversation with her seemed anything but soulless. Which was… ironic to say the least.

"Maman, look. I'm sorry. But it's not what you think, okay? I was just helping her."

She stepped closer — too close for comfort, practically breathing on him as she glared up at him. "It. Not 'her'. We don't help bots in this family. You poor, naïve little boy. You should know by now what their agenda is. Aiming to erase us all from the face of the earth, I've told you this a thousand times. Mankind made a mistake when they invented those flashy gizmos that make them think. And they have the nerve to beg for human rights when we've fought, bled, and died for ours. It's a disgrace, and you know it just as well as I do."

The words Léon wanted to dispute her with had been sucked dry.

His mother clamped her hands lovingly around his arms as she looked him in the eye. "Now, I don't know what's come over you all of a sudden that you think this type of behavior is acceptable. Because it isn't. They're only tools, Léon. They're only machines. They don't have real feelings. Okay?"

"Okay…" he managed.

"On a positive note, I'm so happy you're alive and in one piece. And next time there's an accident, for god's sake… call me. Understand? I'm only angry because you had me so worried. You're my child, I love you."

"Yeah… love you, too…"

He tore himself away and lumbered all the way to his room. Behind his bedroom door, he sank against it with a million questions buzzing in his brain. Questions he couldn't answer. Standing up from crouching, he began to make his way through an onslaught of bedroom catastrophe.

A pile of old shoes with so many puncture holes he couldn't wear them, dirty clothes tossed carelessly along the floor, out-of-place BMD hardware that burned memories onto a computer, and old, empty bourbon bottles that he keeps saying he'll do something with, but never does. At the foot of his bed was a silver case just as he left it — closed, but not latched shut. Below it he had left a sketchbook, which was sealed. It had bold red ink scribbled across it, reading: CONFIDENTIAL. Sitting at the edge of his bed, he slouched forward for a while, his elbows leaving red imprints over his knees.

I don't get it… even though she's a massive bitch, I feel bad for being an asshole to Joliet. But mom had a point with the "bot apocalypse" shit, too. Damn, I don't know what to believe. He flopped back on his bed, eyes fishing out random shapes on the ceiling.

I think Avdol was onto something with that stand bit during Joliet's fight earlier… so far, I've only ever met two A.I.s that had one, which is really fucking weird. He's always talking about it being a "soul" thing. But if that's true, then… how did Joliet and the other guy get theirs?