Ch 9: Going Rogue

Anton didn't know what time it was when he was suddenly shaken awake. He opened his eyes and saw Laura leaning over him.

"You sleep like the dead," she chuckled.

Anton groaned and rubbed his eyes. He looked at the window. it had gotten brighter outside. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Around noon. You've been down here the whole time?" Laura asked.

"Yeah," Anton yawned.

"Jeez," Laura rolled her eyes, "Alright, let's go see if the baby's done with his tantrum." She said, marching upstairs. Anton shook his head at her words but followed her nonetheless. When he arrived upstairs, he saw her furiously banging on their bedroom door. It was lucky that Gilliam and Vanessa were out this time of day. They didn't need to cause any more trouble.

"Kevin!" Laura yelled at the door, "Kevin, open up! You've done enough moping!"

Anton calmly walked beside and tried to twist the doorknob. "Still locked. Maybe he fell asleep," he stated.

"That's great and he's worse than you," Laura sighed and turned back into her room. Anton pressed his ear against the door. Strange, he couldn't hear anything. He was pushed aside when Laura returned. She had a lockpicking kit in her hand.

"Why do you have that?" Anton asked, taken aback.

Laura looked back at him and shrugged, "You never know when such skills would be useful," she stated plainly then went to work on the lock.

Anton watched her in skeptic silence for a moment before saying, "You and Kevin are more alike than you know."

"How dare you," Laura muttered before opening the door. She bolted inside leaving Anton stunned outside. He only stood there a few seconds when "Anton!" he heard Laura call for him and rushed inside. The room was still dark aside from the window. Laura was standing by it, angrily looking out at the street. Anton looked down at Kevin's bed. It was empty.

"He's gone?" Anton asked in disbelief. Laura pointed to the broken latch on the window.

"I cannot believe him! Uncle's going to kill him now!" Laura started pacing angrily back and forth in the room. Anton almost leapt to the window. He looked out to the street. There wasn't a trace of his friend, and it could have been hours since he ran away.

"Sh-shouldn't we go bring him back?" Anton asked the girl.

"We're not his babysitters. If he wants to get himself in more trouble, I'd say let him," Laura snapped back.

"That's what I'm worried about. What if he gets in trouble and gets hurt?" Anton asked her.

Laura paused, "...He's not THAT dumb," she turned and said to him. Anton gave her an 'Are you serious?' type of look. Laura rubbed the back of her neck, growing a little concerned, "Well...Kevin's tough so he can take of himself. Besides, somehow, he always finds a way to crawl out of trouble," she brushed her concern aside and turned to exit.

"But…" Anton continued staring out the window, clearly worried.

"He'll come back," Laura tried to calm him.

"How can you be sure?" Anton asked.

"Because he has nowhere else to go," she stated before leaving the room. Anton let out a half-sigh-half-groan. Call it instincts, but he just had a bad feeling about this. He looked out the window once more. With no trail, he couldn't even go out and find his friend. Plus, he was still grounded. He just hoped that Laura was right, and he was wrong.

Kevin had wandered farther than he ever had since his time with the Cross family. He didn't plan to, but his feet took over while his mind was away. It must have been a few hours of walking when his feet began really hurting. He found himself at the large park in the center of the city. Gilliam and Vanessa had brought him here once or twice before. The Crossroads, the locals called it. Named so since it was the connecting point of the four sectors of the city. In the exact center stood a giant statue depicting four Magisters, completely decked out in their armor so not even their faces were visible, standing firmly together with one looking over each section of the city. On this piece, Kevin found himself a nice perch to do some people-watching.

It was a favorite past-time of his and the higher he was the better. No one would notice him that way and it was a great view. He watched the people below him. They strolled through the park seeming blissfully content. His stomach churned.

Blissfully stupid was more appropriate.

He still couldn't grasp this city or the people here. It was all a lie, wasn't it? He looked up. It was a clear summer sky; brilliant blue, a bright shining sun, and barely a cloud to be seen. But it wasn't real. It's an illusion. It's fake. Everything's fake! The sky was fake! The warmth from the sun was fake! This city was fake! His new "family"... yeah, that was fake too.

Kevin groaned as he leaned back against the statue's head, "Hey, what do you think?" he tapped his fist against its stony temple. It stood firm with its gaze reaching far across the city streets, towering over all, just like an unshakeable guard.

"Pft, yeah I figured," Kevin sighed and tilted his head back. He felt like taking a nap.

"Oi, if it isn't my favorite little grump!"

Kevin nearly jumped at the sudden voice. He looked down and rolled his eyes at who he saw. "Hello, Mr. Volkov." Just his luck that someone would spot him. Nico Volkov, he was nice enough. He ran a small grill and bar in the South Sector. he met through Gilliam and Vanessa. He guessed they were friends. He always greeted them fervently when they came to eat at his place.

"Nico! I told you to call me that!" the man laughed jovially, "You make me sound like an old man!"

"Aren't you though?" Kevin quipped silently to himself. Nico was a large, robust-looking man. He'd look more intimidating if his thick brown and grey beard and his boisterous laugh didn't make him more like a jolly, old grandpa.

"Why you up there, eh boy!" Nico called up to him.

"Uh...took a walk," Kevin shrugged and tried to look as innocent as he could. He couldn't risk him calling Gilliam on him. Nico studied him for a moment, smirking like he knew something. It made Kevin gulp.

"Bah! Alright then!" Nico then shrugged, "Now come down here!"

"Why?" Kevin asked.

"Because food is good after such a long walk!" he waved him down. Kevin was about to protest but a loud rumbling from his stomach stopped him. Begrudgingly, he hopped down from his perch.

"It's a long walk back to your place, isn't it?" Kevin asked.

"Not at all! I've got a little cart right here!" Nico pointed to a small vendor cart with a grill on top.

Kevin looked at the man with a raised brow, "You're expanding?"

"Good businessmen know you can't always rely on the client coming to you. You have to sometimes go meet them directly," Nico explained, walking them to his cart.

"Hmm, a good way to rip more people off," Kevin snarked.

"I'm a legit businessman," Nico held his hand over his heart in mock hurt, "Watch that quick tongue, little friend. It can cause a lot of trouble."

"I know…you're not gonna call Gilliam, are you?" Kevin then asked.

"Hmm? No," Nico said as he fired up his grill. He looked at Kevin with a cocky smirk, "Why? In trouble?" Kevin gave a non-descriptive shrug to which the older man laughed, "Tell you what, I won't snitch on you since you're my first customer on this brand-new cart. No charge even."

"Am I your guinea pig then?" Kevin quipped.

"Do you want the free burger?" Nico asked. Before Kevin could answer, another loud growl erupted from his stomach. Kevin turned red while Nico let out another boisterous bout of laughter and threw a beef patty on the grill. Kevin sighed in defeat, there was no arguing against the old man and sat down on the curb next to him. Well, he was hungry. A few minutes passed before Nico handed him a plain burger, just meat, and buns.

"That's all?" Kevin whined.

"Toppings are extra charge," Nico grinned. Kevin rolled his eyes, cheap son-of-a-bitch, but took a bite anyway. Free food was free food. He sat in silence eating while watching Nico attend his cart.

After he was finished, he looked up to the old man and asked, "Mr. Vo…Nico, do you actually like this place?"

Nico looked down at him confused, "What you mean?"

"This 'city.' Do you like it being in here?" Kevin asked again.

Nico pondered a bit, "…Yes. Do you not?"

"Yes…no…I don't know," Kevin's answer was noncommittal, "I'm still trapped in the Null Void. How do you think I feel about it?"

Nico hummed and the boy, "Hmm…better here than in a tiny cell, no?"

Kevin groaned and stared at the ground. Sure, there were no guards pointing their weapons at him and butt, ugly aliens threatening to eat him every five minutes, but still, he felt like he was locked away in a tight cage. There was nothing Kevin hated more than cages.

"You know," Nico's voice broke through his thoughts, "Someone once told me 'When playing cards, you can never pick what you want from the deck. You must play with what you're dealt."

"And what does that mean?" Kevin asked.

"It means that little boys should stop whining and find joy in what blessings they've been given! However many few," Nico exclaimed.

"Pfft, yeah sure," Kevin huffed. He looked at the man with a more curious expression, "Hey Nico, what were you before you came to this place?"

Nico paused. A somber mask fell over his face, "Not a good man…but hopefully, I am a better one now," he said, partially regaining his more cheerful demeanor. Kevin said nothing but nodded. Nico's smile grew, "And what about you?"

A liar…a thief…a freak!

Kevin sighed heavily and stood up, "Nothing's changed," he said while stretching his arms.

"Only if you haven't tried," Nico shook his head.

"Yeah, says you and Gilliam," Kevin grumbled. He was ready to leave when he got another spark of curiosity, one that had been eating at him since last night. He looked up at the old man, maybe he would know something? "Can I ask you one more thing?" Kevin said. Nico gave a nod in reply, "...I keep hearing about a group called 'The Splitters'...what are they?"

Nico's face paled as a terror washed over his face that Kevin has never seen on the man, "Why do you want to know?!" he asked. His brow formed into a scowl, "Nothing to do with that black eye, I hope."

"Huh? Uh no! This is...something different," Kevin flustered as he tried to cover the bruise, "It's just…everyone keeps talking about them. Are they that bad?"

Nico let out a gruff sigh. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, calming down, "Forget about it, Kevin."

"But- "

"No!" Nico shot him a serious glare, "Truth is…there are many dark corners in the city. It's best to stay away from them, for your own sake."

"…Fine," Kevin was getting sick of being out of the loop. If he wanted answers, he'd just have to find them himself, as usual, "Thanks for the lunch, Mr. Volkov," Kevin turned and left, waving goodbye.

"Better head home, boy! No more trouble!" Nico shouted after him.

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Kevin called back, rolling his eyes. He still wasn't satisfied. He wanted to know what was going on in this damn city and no one was willing to give him a straightforward answer.

"What now?" He didn't want to go back to the Cross. What would be the point of that; to be grounded for a second life sentence. No. He couldn't go back yet. He remembered what Nico said, something about trying to change. Easier said than done. People don't change their minds so easily.

But try.

Kevin thought about it. A thief? He could stop stealing, he guessed. Possibly. A freak? He'd rather not think about it. A liar? Kevin smirked. That didn't seem too difficult. He didn't lie about what he saw last night. He would just have to prove it to Gilliam. He started sprinting down the street. If these Splitters had something to with that, which he had a good hunch they did, he would need some intel. Luckily, he was an expert on where to find all the dark corners where the rats hide.

Hunter thanked the nurse as he exited the clinic. He winced as he gripped the door handle with his now wrapped up hand. Shutting the door, he watched how his hand still shook. It wasn't from the pain but from his nerves. The minute he got back to base; Krum immediately had him sent off to the infirmary. He couldn't protest his way to seeing the Magister. He looked at a clock on the wall. Hours had passed, there was no way now. Krum had probably gotten to him first. With a growl of defeat, he headed down the hall.

"What now?" Hunter thought. The Magister won't see him. One of the Generals? That was a long shot itself. He barely spoke with them outside of orders. He nervously gulped at the thought of approaching either of them. Both were intimidating.

As he approached the corner, he could hear someone talking. He peeked around. He saw the back of a largely built man with blond hair and a general's uniform. General Kronos! He confirmed it further when he saw another blond-haired man, smaller than the general, leaning bored against a wall watching him. He always followed him around for some reason. This was good. Kronos seemed like the easier one to approach...somewhat. Hunter was ready to call out to him when he then heard a familiar, sleazy voice. He peeked out a little more and froze seeing that Krum was talking to the general. He ducked back into hiding. Damn, there really was nothing he could do now. Krum cast his greasy reach into every outlet he could think of. He didn't have any power over him...or it's worse. What if the generals are in on his scams! Or the Magister! He shook his head, and placed his hand over his thumping heart. He was over-panicking. Paranoia wasn't like him. He just needed to get back to his room and think. He peeled himself from the wall when he then collided with a large body.

"Sorry!' He quickly apologized and looked up. He felt his heart stop. It was General Kronos looking back at him with a surprised look.

"You? Hunter, right? We met a few nights ago," Kronos spoke. Hunter blinked, stunned. He didn't think he would remember him at all, let alone his name.

"Y-yes sir," Hunter replied, wanting to slap himself for stuttering like a fool. The general looked over him, stopping at his injured. He almost looked concerned.

"You were at the warehouse that got attacked last night, correct?" Kronos asked.

Hunter could feel his palm sweat, "Yes, I'm sure Krum told you everything...just now." Kronos raised a brow at him. Hunter panicked, "Um...well I saw...I didn't really hear..."

"It's rude to spy, little boy," he heard a laugh to his right. The smaller man stood behind the general with a mocking smile. It quickly disappeared after Kronos shot him a scowl.

"Sorry sir," Hunter bowed his head, "I'll be going now." as he brushed past the general, he was stopped by a large hand on his shoulder.

"Is everything all right, Hawk," Kronos asked him. Hunter looked up. The man's expression was stern, but his voice sounded sincere. Still, he couldn't shake himself out of this pit of fear.

"Yes, sir. Why wouldn't it be?" Hunter pulled himself away and hurried down the hall.

Kronos watched the young kid until he disappeared around the corner. It didn't seem right. He was too jumpy compared to the last time he met him.

"Not what I expected for one of the 'Secret Shadow Agents'," Mason snickered.

"Have a bit more tact, Mason," Kronos sighed, "And also learn to bite your tongue when appropriate."

"Hey, I keep my mouth shut through every boring meeting! It's not easy, as you know," Mason smirked, wagging his finger at the general.

Kronos growled and rubbed the crease of his brow, "You're another headache I don't need."

"Don't take it out on me that you don't like meeting with the pigs," Mason grumbled.

"Mason!" Kronos gave him a warning glare.

Mason shrugged it off. He was used to it by now, "You know I don't like Traders. They sit on their butts in the high castles, while we do all the grunt work," he narrowed his gaze to the floor, "That Crum guy's a good example of it."

"Again, I ask you to watch what you say," Kronos said as he started down the hall.

"Oh, come on! You don't like that guy as much as I don't!" Mason chided as he walked a step behind. Kronos hummed but didn't object. Krum had been pestering him all morning, asking him about events at the warehouse last night. It's been getting annoying...and suspicious.

"I'm telling you that guy smells like scum...and sauerkraut," Mason gagged.

"You're not a dog," Kronos chided.

"No, I'm a reptile. It sticks to my tongue, and I can taste it. Why do you think I smoke," Mason whined. Kronos was tuning him out at this point. He paused. He looked back down the hallway, where Hawk had left. The boy's panicked demeanor rose his suspicions even more.

Mason noticed his intense gaze, "Uh oh, what're you thinking."

"…I need last night's surveillance footage," Kronos stated.

"We can't. It's not our investigation," Mason told him.

"Try and stop me," Kronos huffed and brisked past his companion.

A smirk crawled onto Mason's face, "Bending the rules again," he muttered giddily as he followed right behind.

"Beat it, brat!" Kevin was thrown onto the ground by the pawn shopkeeper.

"Ugh...Is that how you treat everybody who walks in?" Kevin quipped back at the man, spitting out some dirt.

"Only little punks who keep harassing my customers!" the shopkeeper growled, "Next time, I'll call the guards!"

"They should come! Your prices are a scam!" Kevin laughed before bolting down the street away from the angry man. He only ran a block before stopping, chuckling the whole time. He then sighed; still at square one. He had been walking around for a few hours, asking anybody looking suspicious what they knew. The best he got was silence or somebody telling him to piss off. People here are more stubborn and angry than in New York. He didn't think that was possible.

"Great, now what," Kevin pondered as he continued down the street. He stopped when he heard some very loud laughter and shouting. He looked around. He saw he was in front of a pub, but it wasn't coming from there. He heard it again and saw a path leading into an alleyway beside the building. He peeked around the corner. There were three men gathered in the narrow alley. They were smoking and drinking. They looked like a rough bunch; disheveled clothing, perhaps from too much drinking, and dirty mugs that bore scheming grins.

Perfect.

Kevin smirked. He knew guys like these; the dumb, bragging types. The fact they were drinking made it even better, it meant looser lips. He stepped out of hiding. He knew to be careful. He was used to the common thugs from New York, but here things were different. He cautiously, though still showing confidence, stepped towards the three men. One, the drunkest of the bunch, quickly noticed him.

"Hey! Hey!" the drunkard shouted, his slur apparent, "A little late to be out, little boy!" he laughed.

Oh, this was going to be fun. "A little early to be shit-faced drunk, dickhead," Kevin shouted back.

The man jumped to his feet, "Looking...for...trouble!" the man barely could put his words together as he wobbled back and forth.

"Easy, Petey," the second man, seeming soberer, pushed his friend back down, "Don't go picking fights with kids."

"Eddy, but...asking for it," his drunk friend barely got out before plopping back down on his stool.

"Why don't you go home, kid. It's not safe around here," the man, Eddy, then turned to Kevin.

"I'm pretty tough," Kevin shrugged, "Plus who'd be scared of a couple of drunks."

"Heh, what a gutsy kid," the third man finally spoke up. Kevin looked over and his eyes locked with the man's dark, beady ones. He was more built than his two companions. Maybe he was in charge? The man took another swig from his bottle while still holding onto his perfect sleazy grin, marred only by a single scar that ran over his lips and down to his chin.

The scarred man chuckled again, "Guts don't mean much though. If you're not careful, kids, yours can end up littering the ground."

"Tch, that supposed to be some sage advice?" Kevin asked.

"Consider me nice enough to give it. Free of charge, no less. Now beat it," the man shrugged, returning to his drink.

"Hmm, think of that all on your own, or...did you learn to threaten kids in the Splitters?" Kevin then pressed. The scarred man paused, the bottle falling slowly from his lips. His grin had shrunk, and his eyes turned into daggers pointed at the young teen. Bingo. Kevin gave him a triumphant grin in return.

"Hey! Kid's...a cop!" their drunk friend suddenly exclaimed and flailed.

The scarred man rolled his eye, "Shut him up!" he ordered, now standing from his seat.

"Oh, come on, Marco. He's just a kid," the other man tried to plead while keeping the drunkard under control. Marco quieted him with just a glare. Kevin watched the man take a few steps towards him, stumbling only slightly from the alcohol. Kevin got a better look at him as he stepped closer into the light above the pub's side door. He had a square jaw and rough face, looking battered from countless brawls and alcohol. The only mark that remained was that lonely scar on his mouth. His beard stubble was patchy and colored dark brown to match his messy hair.

"So... why are you snooping around the slums?" the man gave a toothy smirk.

Kevin scrunched his nose as the scent of booze wafted down at him, "Call me curious."

"Tch, curiosity killed the cat, you know? Heh...maybe you do, looking at that eye there," Marco pointed at his black eye, mocking.

"This is nothing."

"Oh ho! Tough kid. I like him," Marco blew out a laugh, "but you're still just a dumb kid. Piss off!" he turned his back to him.

"That's it!? I expected more from The Splitters!" Kevin exclaimed.

"I don't know what you've heard, but you shouldn't go just believing rumors."

"Well, considering everyone's so tightlipped, I just assumed the usual stuff; theft murder...stashes of illegal weapons," Kevin grinned when he saw Marco's hand twitch, "Shocking that last one...since they're in a Plumber warehouse." Marco's head turned sharply. His single showing eye glistened menacingly but held an underline of panic. His cohorts were whispering something to him, not that he cared, his attention was solely on the boy.

"What are you, kid? Not a Plumber?" Marco growled.

"...What if I am?" Kevin bluffed. Marco's black eyes ran up and down the boy's frame. He sneered in amusement.

"Not a chance. You're an annoying little street rat who, I think, crawled into the one hole he wasn't supposed to."

"...So, I was right," Kevin smirked, "You guys are horrible at keeping a low profile."

Marco grinned like a snake ready to strike, "Sneaky little brat, aren't ya?" Kevin then noticed his hand had been behind his back the whole time. He took a step back but kept a focused glare on the man. His grin turned into a snarl, "Don't think I'm above silencing kids, so don't test me further."

Kevin's gaze darkened and he placed his hand on the nearby brick wall, "Take your own advice, pal. You don't want to know what I can do," he spoke low and threateningly. Marco inched closer, smirking like an idiot. Kevin scraped his finger against the brick, ready to dish out a good beating when the door between them opened and a familiar face walk out

"Zero!" Kevin gasped out. He hadn't seen the grey-haired man since that night he tried to rob him and Laura, and frankly he didn't care to ever see him again. The feeling seemed mutual since Zero was staring back in shock. When he turned to Marco, he rolled his eyes.

"Crap," he mumbled and stood between them.

"Zero! A little early for you, isn't it?" Marco laughed upon sight of the man.

"Fuck you. What are doing out here?" Zero spat back at him.

"Hey now, we were just having a friendly chat."

"Bullshit!" Kevin exclaimed. He wanted to beat this guy to oblivion but Zero roughly pushed him back. Kevin could only glare as the man blocked his way.

Marco snickered at the two, "Don't be too rough on the kid."

"He's a tough kid. More than that, so I'd suggest you leave. For your own good," Zero said.

"Is that an order?" Marco hissed. He stepped closer and his taunting eyes stared into Zero's glaring gaze, "Cause if it is…you'd better go dig your badge out of the trash heap." Kevin watched as tense seconds passed between them. Zero then reached up and pulled the cloth covering his mouth down enough to show off the sharp teeth.

Zero blew out a small vapor of frost, "Leave...now," he snarled. Marco flinched back from the cold. He tried to keep up the threatening façade but Zero didn't budge.

"Tch, screw it," Marco then said, "I've more important things to do than entertain freaks." Kevin's whole body jolted. Those words, and the way he said them, struck a nerve deep inside him. He looked up to Zero. The man had barely reacted aside from pulling his cloth back over his placid expression. Marco smirked then poured the rest of his drink over Zero's boots.

"One last drink, on me," Marco snickered. Zero didn't react much, only giving him a cold stare. Satisfied, Marco shoved his lackeys down the darkened alley.

Kevin snarled, "Hey! Come back here, you cowar-AAH!" Zero grabbed and started dragging him from the alley. "Let me go, you jerk!" Kevin shouted struggling against his iron grip.

Zero tossed the boy onto the sidewalk, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Why the hell do you care?!" Kevin snapped, bouncing back to his feet.

"I shouldn't," Zero rolled his eyes, "But you should know dealing with those people is dangerous."

"Then why am I talking to you?"

"I'm not a terrorist."

"Nah, just an asshole who tries to rob children," Kevin snipped.

"...you never answered my question."

"And you never answered mine. So, even," Kevin shrugged. He tried to walk away but Zero stopped him.

"What are you after, tailing the Splitters?" Zero leered down at him.

Kevin shrugged, "Maybe I'm just a good Samaritan looking to bring down some crooks."

"You're a lying little shit," Zero stated plainly.

"Says you."

"I know it," Zero leaned down, giving him an icy glare, "You don't think I've met plenty like you? Those who think they're so tough, but, they're only cowards who can only lie, cheat, and steal to get their way," Zero gave a disgusted chuckle, "I feel bad for Cross."

It took all of Kevin's willpower to not lunge at the bastard. He glared back at the man, "You don't know a damn thing," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Zero jolted back. He looked almost scared. "Those eyes...just like his," Zero muttered narrowing his eyes to the ground. Kevin eyed him bizarrely, not knowing what he meant. "...You need to go back home, punk," Zero grunted.

"Not yet," Kevin said, "I don't care what you, but I need info on the Splitters."

"...You're persistent...thinking you could take them on," Zero shrugged.

"I'll do better than you. Even the Plumbers considering they're using their warehouses for weapons," Kevin stated. Zero eyes widened in shock. Then his expression turned into confusion, then anger, then slowly into solemness.

"Dammit," he sighed.

Kevin grew curious. He remembered the heated exchange between Zero and Marco just a few moments ago. It made him wonder, "Are you...a Plumber?" Zero said nothing, "...Cause if you are, why not-"

"No," Zero's stern voice stopped him. He turned away, "Do what you want, kid, but maybe you should go about it a bit smarter. Fighting drunks gets you nowhere."

Kevin stared skeptically at the back of his head. What a weirdo this guy was. Kevin couldn't read him like any other person. He looked back into the dark alley where those thugs disappeared. He looked back at Zero. His back was to him. It looked like he wasn't going to stop him.

"I don't need any advice. I'll do things my way," Kevin spat at him and then disappeared into the dark alley. He didn't look back. If he did, he would see Zero watching him intensely while fiddling with a phone in his hand.

Hunter lay on his bed. He had tried to take a nap and clear his mind, but it was impossible. He sat up and rummaged through his bedside drawer hoping he still had some candy or gum left. Sweets were one of the few things that could settle his nerves. Unfortunately, all he felt were plastic wrappers.

"Dammit," he sighed out, burying his face in his hands. He then heard someone move around outside his door. Perking up, he rushed over hoping Naomi would be on the other side.

"Ho-oh, welcome back, little bird!" Clint's obnoxious laughter greeted him. Hunter groaned and began to shut his door. "Hey! Hey! Why so grumpy? Bad night?" Clint continued to snicker, stopping the door.

"Go away," Hunter groaned again.

"That bad? You should pick your clients better." Clint smirked before walking away and flopping down on the nearby couch.

"You were the one who pushed it onto me," Hunter fumed, coming out to face him.

Clint smiled, "I didn't hear much complaining at the time." Hunter glared at him. Something had been bothering him and it wasn't just Clint's usual obnoxious attitude. Clint noticed the staring and raised a brow, "What?"

"...Did you know?" Hunter asked. He was already suspicious that something was wrong when Clint forced the mission on him. He chalked it up to him being lazy, but now he wasn't so sure. He seemed to know something, or at least that he always acted

"Hmm? Could you be a bit more specific?" Clint asked, putting on an innocent smile.

Hunter sneered but held it together, "You know...about Krum?"

"What? That he's a grease-faced lying shit? Yeah, I know. Beyond that, nothing but gossip," Clint chuckled. Hunter was growing more agitated, which only made Clint more amused. "Oooh, something did happen. Okay, I wanna try and guess."

"Go fuck yourself," Hunter did not want to indulge this man.

"Oh, come on!" Clint exclaimed in jovial exasperation. Hunter growled and turned to go back to his room, trying to ignore Clint's voice, "Drugs? A secret brothel? Weapons, perhaps?"

Hunter flinch and he could kick himself for doing so. He could sense Clint's grin growing wider. "Ah, so weapons smuggling. Personally, I would've hoped for the brothel," Clint laughed.

"Glad to know you find this funny," Hunter grumbled.

"Learn to lighten up a little, kid."

"Does any of this actually bother you?" Hunter spun around and snapped at the man.

Clint only shrugged, "This city's full of scumbags. Why are you so surprised?"

"The Plumbers are supposed to be the protector, not the instigators. We should report-"

"Nah," Clint cut him off.

Hunter stared at him wide-eyed and disgusted, "It's our job to-"

Clint bolted up, startling the boy silent. "Our job is when someone points you shoot! That's all!" Clint charged at him, stopping just short of a foot between them. Hunter didn't flinch, though a lump of fear had closed his throat. Clint smirked down at the trapped boy. "Of course...you just wanna keep on believing you're a hero, don'tcha. Can't ya just admit already?"

That was slowly starting to melt as anger to the place of fear, "Admit what?" Hunter spoke, his voice still a bit weak.

"That you're nothing but a killer. Like the rest of us," Clint answered.

"Do you think I'm like you? Someone who enjoys killing," Hunter hissed. Clint only gave him a wry smile. His anger boiled over and he swung a wild fist at him. Clint seemed to expect it and grabbed his hand mid-swing. He twisted his fist and Hunter cried out in pain. Before he could retaliate, Clint grabbed his collar and pushed him back into the wall. Hunter froze as he felt a cold blade press against his pulse point.

"You still wanna pretend you're on some higher ground than me? I could laugh," Clint glared into his eyes. His usual snide tone had been replaced with that of a cold-blooded predator and his lips curled into a twisted smirk, "Let me ask you something. Have you ever felt what I'm feeling right now? What it's like to look into the eyes of someone about to die?"

Hunter unconsciously gulped. It proved difficult as Clint pushed the blade harder against his throat. He sucked in a sharped breath as the edge of the knife started slipping under his skin, stinging worse than a thousand paper cuts. Still, he kept his eyes locked onto Clint's face, noting how he was becoming more gleeful by the second.

"They never look away from you. They take in everything about your face, your expression, down to the very last freckle. Your face will be etched into their soul, so they'll never forget who you are. But you've never experienced that have you?" Clint leaned in closer to him. Hunter trembled as he stared into the eyes of this psychopath. He feared him for the first time, or maybe he always feared him.

Clint grinned and pushed himself away, "Heheh, you look about ready to piss your pants kid," he laughed while examining his blade.

Hunter could finally breathe. His hand flew to his neck. It was slightly wet, but luckily it was only a shallow cut. Clint was toying with him. "You're a sick bastard," Hunter said. His voice was shaking as bad as his knees, so much so that he still had to hold himself against the wall.

"Eh, probably," Clint shrugged with a chuckle, "Least I own it. My job is to kill and I'm damn good at it. You should learn to take some pride in your work."

"Excuse me," Hunter hissed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I know how boring it is for you."

"Shut up!"

"The mundane of popping people right through the forehead."

"Stop it!"

"You can't see any of their faces, can you?" Clint's tone turned dark again and he towered like a bloodthirsty giant over the boy, "Do you recall any of them, even the hint of their names? I can, just out of respect for my prey. Come on, give me one name."

"Uh..." Hunter paused. He couldn't. He tried but nothing could come to his mind. He was taught never to dwell on one mission too long, it would just be burdensome. Most of the people he went after were thieves, dirtbags, and traitors. He never felt like they were anything worth remembering. But he wasn't a cold-blooded killer, was he? He wasn't like Clint. He took joy, no pleasure, in killing...right? Maybe only the smallest satisfaction of success, but...no!

Hunter violently shook his head as Clint's laughter echoed around him, "The truth hurts! Don't it, kid?"

"Shut the hell up!" Hunter roared.

"What is going on?!" A female voice pierced between them. Hunter looked up and saw Naomi on the stairwell. She stared down at him with a look of worry before her gaze shifted to Clint and was replaced with fury.

"Clint!" Naomi raced down to confront the man, "What are you doing?" she spat at him. Hunter was surprised at how dark her expression had turned. She looked ready to tear Clint apart and she probably could despite how he towered over the girl. Was this how she looked on missions?

Clint sneered back at her, "Your little brother had a rough time last night. I was just giving him a well-deserved reality check." Naomi paled and turned to her brother. Hunter saw something like panic in her eyes followed by sorrow.

"You can take care of him from here," Clint chuckled at her before leaving the two alone. Naomi shot him a dirty look as he left. She quickly returned her attention to Hunter.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Hunter nodded but kept his head low, "He did that?" Naomi got closer to examine the cut on his neck.

"It's a shallow cut. Don't worry," Hunter pushed her away, still not looking up. Naomi huffed and then saw his bandaged hand.

"That's from last night?" She held it up to examine.

"It's fine!" Hunter snapped and yanked it away, causing Naomi to flinch. Hunter felt bad, but at the same time, he didn't want to be babied anymore. Now that he thought about it, she always seemed to shelter him from everything. Their moms' death, their father leaving them, all the harsh training he was put under as a kid, Naomi always kept up a chipper attitude towards him. It was all a cover-up.

"Why don't you rest for the day?" Naomi squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. Once again, she was wearing that same smile. "Please learn to ignore Clint. He's just a bully."

She turned to leave. Hunter couldn't let her. Despite her words. He couldn't let it go, "Do you think what we do is right?" Hunter asked. His voice sounded meeker than ever.

Naomi spun back to him, "What? What are you talking about?" Hunter looked to the floor. Was she just being ignorant? He couldn't tell. "If this is what Clint said? I swear I'm going to-"

"Just answer me!" Hunter erupted.

"...What do you want me to say?" Naomi replied after a long moment of silence.

"I...," Hunter paused trying to fight against his throat closing. It didn't help that Naomi was still staring at him with an intensity he had never seen till now. The veil had been lifted and this was his chance. "I want to know what we are."

"What do you mean?" Naomi asked him.

"Are we just killers?" Hunter asked.

Naomi shook her head, "...You're thinking about this too much."

"Of course!" Hunter rolled his eyes and groaned, "Don't think about it...ever! Dad sure drilled that into our heads. Maybe we should."

"It would just get in the way," his sister said plainly.

"...So, you've never once questioned anything? Anyone?" Naomi didn't answer, her gaze turned distant. "...Was there ever a moment of regret... afterward?" Hunter asked though fearing an answer. She didn't give him one, perhaps that was worse, and continued to stare at nothing.

"Fine," Hunter grunted as he ran past her.

"Where are you going?" Naomi asked, following him.

"For a walk," Hunter said as he rushed up the stairs.

"Wait, Hunter! Please don't do anything stupid. I don't want you to get hurt," she pleaded.

Hunter stared back at her, unmoved, and holding up his injured hand, "Hmph, too late for that," he snarked then rushed up the stairs and out of the room. He ran until he made it out into the hallway. Now that he was alone, he couldn't hold back his grief. His knees shook, so he steadied himself against the wall. He couldn't even get a straight answer out of his sister. Clint was right. Goddammit, Clint was right!

"What now?" Hunter shuffled through the dark halls, still thinking about Crum. That bastard can pretend all he likes, but Hunter knew better. People like him would only cause more suffering. People like that didn't deserve to live.

Just like the others, right?

Hunter was jolted out of his sulking. Shit! No! He is not a mindless killer! He had to keep reminding himself. Yet, he couldn't remember any of his previous victims, just like Clint had told him. In fact, the only ones he could recall were...that hybrid and splice. He had to laugh. Figures that he could only remember those he couldn't kill. Lucky them.

He was about to round a corner when he suddenly heard voices.

"What if we get caught?"

"It ain't gonna happen."

Hunter quickly hid behind the wall. He poked his head out slightly and saw two Plumber guards. One was looking nervous as the other, much larger, guard stood over him. Hunter's eyes widened. The large guard was the same from Crum's warehouse.

"You have everything?" the large guard asked.

"Yeah, yeah," the jittery guard held up a small bag.

The other guard took and peered inside. Hunter could see a faint glow coming from it and when the guard lifted something slightly out of it, he saw the top of a lead tube. A glow encased in a lead tube? Could it be an Ion core? Those were used for the Plumber more powerful weapons or worse used to build bombs. Crum you greedy lunatic!

"Can't believe he's gonna give them that!" the small guard spat.

"We need to placate them, so says Crum," the large guard stated.

"Crum can go fuck himself! He's getting too comfortable around those thugs. They'll turn on us, I tell ya."

They'd be foolish if they do."

The two started walking away. Hunter slowly trailed behind them, taking care not to be noticed. If Crum was doing another deal, he had to stop him. He had to try, at least. He followed the two men until they reached a large garage filled with a multitude of cars and trucks. The two guards were heading straight towards a small van surrounded by other guards and in the center of them was Crum. Hunter quickly hid behind a nearby car and tried to listen in on their meeting. He couldn't make out much. Crum looked agitated as he grumbled at his goons. He need to get closer, pressing his body tightly against the car whilst straining his ear until he could almost make something out.

"Well, what's this?"

Hunter jumped. Someone was behind him! He spun around and saw a snarling guard. His hand instinctively went to his waist. His heart nearly stopped. No holster, he forgot to bring his guns. The guard grabbed his collar, lifted him off the ground, and hurled him over the car. He struck and rolled on the pavement. Pain encased his body so much that he couldn't move. In an instant, he became trapped in a circle of guards staring down at him, some angry some nervous.

"You couldn't leave it alone, could 'ya," Hunter could turn his head to see Crum coming toward him. The man kneeled next to him, glaring at his face. "Now, you've put me in a real pickle." Hunter gulped. He could hear the others around them and their frantic muttering.

'He's the agent from last night, isn't he?' 'He'll blab,' 'We're screwed,' 'Let's just kill him,' 'He's just a kid,'

"SHUT UP!" Crum barked at them, and everyone went silent. He looked over the boy with a pensive gaze, "No guns? Didn't this far ahead, huh?"

Hunter growled at him. God, he wanted to strangle him, "You're lucky," he spat. Crum drew back, eyes frozen in a moment of fear. After a pause, he forced out a smile and a laugh.

"What a curious kid. Let's bring him along, eh boys!" he chuckled and rose. "It's a bit a trip though. Why not take a little nap?" he snapped, and the last thing Hunter remembered was a blunt kick to his head before everything went black.

Sorry, it took so long but please leave a review if you could.