Episode: 1.5

--- Jericho ---

He eyed Rook cautiously, the memory of a number of aches acting up as a reminder of what happened when he tried to push to hard with a stressed Rook.

She blinked, whether because she was just seeing him, or because she was starting to see someone else, he wasn’t sure.

Eventually the tense silence started getting to him, so he decided there wasn’t too much harm in risking her attention once more, “R-Rook, you back or…?”

“I…” Rook ran a hand down her face, before pawing at her eyes, “Yeah. I’m, I’m back.”

“Is everything… alright?”

“Yeah… just, just had a little episode…” she admitted, “Nothing major.”

He wasn’t sure he believed her, but at the same time… (it’s not one of her worse episodes…)

“If you’re sure…”

“Yeah, I am.” Rook nodded, with a bit of force.

(No… you’re not.)

He bit his cheek, knowing better than to press the issue, (especially with how many of mine she lets slide.)

Rook gave him another over once more before shaking her head with a wry grin, “It’s just… When you said it wasn’t yours earlier, I thought you were just in shock…”

“Uh, no, I’ve just always been good at not getting hit by things.” He shrugged since it wasn’t a big deal.

“What do you mean?”

“Um…”

(His shirt tore open as the dog’s snapping teeth managed to latch onto his already bloody shirt.)

(The hair on his arm singed as the bolt of electricity passed less than a foot away from him.)

(He just managed to stop, stumbling to the ground as the chainsaw slammed through the concrete between his legs.)

(The scent of rot filled the air as the lifeless creatures’ toxic green eyes glared at their newest prey.)

(Violently violet eyes gleefully gazed as he weaved through another storm of black bramble.)

He shook his head, forcing the… unpleasant memories away.

“…nothing,” (I’m not willing to take to the grave.)

She watched him with narrowed eyes before shaking her head, probably deciding it better not to push. Which it really was. (For me at least.)

“Okay… you think you’re going to be stable long enough for us to have a serious talk, or?”

“Yeah, I’ll pull through.” He nodded, knowing she wouldn’t believe him if he told her he really was fine, and that if he brought up her own issues at the moment that would just leave them both feeling guilty.

“Alright, so since you…” her eyes jumped to him, “killed off the crew that pulled the bank heist, we don’t have to worry about them coming for the money. That said, if someone hired them to pull the heist, they might come looking instead.”

“Yeah, since they robbed it today of all days, they were probably hired.” He agreed, his hand finding a way to the back of his neck.

Rook’s face scrunched up a bit, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you know how I made out with like a million dollars or something?” He rolled a hand through the air, since that pretty much explained a fair amount. (Maybe not what, but definitely why.)

“Yeah, and?”

He blinked.

(Doesn’t she know? I mean, it’s fairly common knowledge…)

Readjusting in his seat he gave her a look, “You do know how much people usually make off of bank heists, right?”

“A couple hundred thousand?” she guessed, because (to be that wrong you had to have guessed.)

He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose, “Try a couple of tens of thousands.”

“That little…” she seemed stunned, for some odd, inexplicable reason.

“Yeah,” he ran a hand down his face, “it’s the age of credit and superpowers, smart banks only keep what they need for their day to day use in house, which is anywhere from fifty thousand to a quarter of a mil depending on the size of the bank.”

“Okay, then…” she glanced at the bag of money on the table, “how’d you get such a haul?”

“Because-” he froze, his heart stopping in his chest.

(Oh god…)

“Y-you okay Jer?”

(No, no I am not…)

He put his hands on the sides of his head before letting out a shaky breath, as the sudden revelation of just what his (fucking dumbass) just did.

“L-look it’s okay, what you did, um, it… you did what you had to…”

He glanced at Rook, who wore a conflicted expression.

“I-I know, killing someone it, it isn’t easy, but…”

He ran a hand through his hair letting loose a shaky breath, not really paying attention to what she was saying. Though he did note her worried tone, and that he should check on that the moment his panic attack ended.

“Jer…” Rook tried in a soft voice as she reached for him.

“We-e are so fucked.”

Rook pulled back eyes wide, “Um, w-what?”

He leapt to his feet as he just remembered something, “Wait, the bank’s insured, so they’ll pay for it!”

“Pay for what?” Rook asked, apparently not following.

“The, the, the stuff!” he explained, to worried about the inevitable threat to bother with words that clearly described what he was talking about.

Rook stared at him for a moment before letting out a sad sigh.

“Look Jericho,” she put a hand on his shoulder, “I-I get that you’re upset but the bank can’t fix this problem.”

“No, no, no, no…” he panicked gripping the sides of his head.

“Jer, Jer, I need you to look at me.”

He forced himself to calm down and looked at her.

“The bank can’t take care of this,” she told him firmly, before voice softened, “those guys, they’re dead, and you need to accept that if you want to start moving on. And…”

He unconsciously began to filter out her irrelevant words on morality and the sanctity of life and survival.

(What the hell is she talking about?)

(Why would I be bothered by that?)

(It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve killed someone.)

(Besides as far as I can tell they were all dicks, what with their kidnapping, shooting people, and only carrying one explosive…)

His eyes narrowed in thought.

(Unless… Oh…)

His eyes widened.

(Wait… Oh.)

(Oh, shit she doesn’t know!)

He glanced at the bag, then back to the still talking Rook.

(She’s going to kill me.)

(Bullets bouncing off flesh… Blows hard enough to shatter bone and concrete alike…)

His heart stopped, for the second time in as many minutes.

(Wait, no, he’s going to kill me…)

He shook his head.

(No… it’ll be a pain in the ass, but I can handle that.)

His eyes drifted towards Rook once more.

(But I can’t let him anywhere near her.)

He stared at Rook for a hard second before coming to a decision.

(I have to tell her…)

“Rook, I’m not upset about killing those guys.” He bluntly cut off, whatever she was talking about.

Rook reared back in a stunned confusion. “You’re not?”

“I’m not.” He nodded, swallowing down whatever apprehension was building.

(If he might come after us, she deserves to know about it.)

(He’s arrogant enough that he won’t come after us himself… but if he does…)

He bit down on the desire to curl up in a corner and hide.

“Then why are you upset?”

“Because of whose money this is…”

He wasn’t afraid to admit… his voice may’ve squeaked a little. He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t afraid to admit it.

“Whose money is it?” she questioned cautiously.

He opened his mouth, then closed it.

He couldn’t say it.

“Jer?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, again.

He really shouldn’t say it.

“Jericho.” Rook tried once more with a glare.

He swallowed, before answering as quietly as physically possible, not even sure if he’d actually said it so much as mouthed it.

“Who?”

He made a whining sound, and quite frankly he didn’t care how unmanly he sounded.

“Sup…rion…”

Rook blinked, whether because she couldn’t understand him or didn’t know he could make that sound he wasn’t sure. Hell, he didn’t even know he could make that sound.

“Who?”

“Supierion.”

All color drained from Rook’s face, her eyes jumping to the bag full of money, then back to him, “You didn’t…”

“I didn’t mean to…” he whined both pitifully and completely justifiably.

“You, you stole one… one million dollars from…” she wheezed before releasing an extremely shaky breath, “from the world’s number one superhero?” her voice trailed off with it’s own squeak.

He nodded.

“We are so fucked.”

He made the whining sound again.