After your revelation, you both lapsed into exhausted silence. Viktor, after another rummage through his cupboards, turned his attention to treating the bruise to your forehead. You tried to work on your theories about whether or not the attack was planned, but found it hard to focus on anything when he was so damn close.

He had moved himself to sit opposite you, and now applied some sort of medical concoction to the bruise on your forehead. One of his hands carefully cupped your face to keep it still. His palm was cold, and you had to fight to repress a shiver.

You were trying to focus on anything but him - the wallpaper or the ceiling or the wood of the cabinets or your many, many thoughts - anything. You were failing.

After however many long, long minutes it took, you were simultaniously disappointed and relieved when he finally leaned back, done.

"Am I going to live, doc?" you asked, gingerly raising a hand to touch the bruise.

He lightheartedly swatted your hand away before it could make contact. "Refrain from touching the area until the medicines have set in."

"Noted."

"I recommend keeping your movements slow and undemanding," he said. "And preferably not getting beat up by Undercity drunks."

You feigned disappointment. "That's my weekend spoiled."

He laughed. The sound was a welcome change from the sombre air that had settled upon you two. Though it wasn't a particularly hilarious response, you found yourself laughing, too.

Neither of you heard the knock at the door. It came a second time

"Who's that?" you asked. The paranoid part of your mind kicked into action, spouting a million different and dangerous scenarios. Despite their unrealistic nature, you found a curl of worry settling in your stomach. You shoved those worries away, but whispers of stubborn tendrils still lingered.

"I'm not sure," Viktor said. By the slight crease between his brow, it seemed he shared your irrational thoughts. But before he could even stand up, to your utmost relief, Jayce Talis poked his head into the room.

There was a faint ashy outline of goggles imposed onto his face, as if he'd been victim to a failed experiment of some sorts.

"Hey, your door was unlocked," he said, ambling in. "Wasn't sure if your were in. Good job I'm not a thief - although I probably would've stolen an apple or something anyway. You should really remember to-"

His eyes shifted to Viktor, then you, then back to Viktor. He raised his eyebrows, grinning, and gestured behind him. "I'll be in the foyer. You two keep... yeah."

He flashed Viktor a very obvious thumbs-up and an encouraging grin, then disappeared.

Viktor groaned and put his head in his hands, while you resisted the urge to laugh.

"I do not know how he can be the same man who created revolutionary technology in his kitchen," he lamented.

"Maybe he has a twin."

He exhaled a short laugh. "Maybe." He stretched as he stood up, then grabbed his cane. "I'll be a moment."

You absentmindedly cast your gaze around the kitchen as you waited. The clock on the wall told you it was only an hour or so past midday. But it couldn't be, could it? Years seemed to have passed since you left your house that morning. So much - too much - had happened in only a few hours. You could barely process any of it.

Casting your mind away from the events of the morning, you fiddled with a loose thread on your top. It only succeeded in pulling even more thread loose, but you didn't notice. It kept your hands busy, away from interferring with either of your injuries.

You couldn't help being a bit nosy and attempting to listen in on the two scientists' conversation next-door, but you could only make out a faint mumble punctuated with the occasional loud word. After a few long minutes you heard the sound of a door closing, and Viktor reappeared.

"What was that about?" you asked as he sat back down.

"There's something I need to attend to at the lab," he said, "but I told Jayce I'm busy."

"Why?"

He looked at you as if you'd just told him the sky was green. "Because of you," he said, sounding more incredulous at your cluelessness than annoyed at being burdened with the situation you had brought upon him.

"I don't want to get in the way of your work," you said.

"It's nothing important."

"It must be, if Jayce came to get you on your day off."

At that, he had no counter argument.

"Really, go," you insisted. "I'll be fine."

"I had to all but carry you back here," he said flatly. "That is about as far from 'fine' as you can get."

Fair point, you thought, but didn't want to admit it. "That was an hour ago."

You weren't sure, frankly, why you were protesting. You were too stubborn to admit it, but you enjoyed spending time with Viktor, even if your head still hurt, and you still felt a bit faint, and the collar of the top was still tacky with your own blood. You could barely believe the words coming from your mouth; you were too polite for your own good.

"I can't leave you like this," he said. "We need to sort this out. You- We have to report this."

"To who?"

"To... the Enforcers." He said the word with a slight grimace, as if it had a bitter taste to it.

"There's no point," you found yourself saying.

"What?"

"I said there's no point."

He frowned. "I don't understand."

"What can the Enforcers actually do? There must be hundreds of men in the Undercity that fall under the description of 'burly, pissed-off drunk'. I don't even remember what he looked like. For all the hassle, I just don't think it's worth it. "

He looked equal parts surprised and pitiful. His mouth worked silently, but no words came out. "You can't just let something like that happen."

"But what would actually happen to the guy?" you said. "If they somehow magically manage to find him?"

Viktor was silent for a long moment. Then- "It's awful," he said quietly.

"I know." You weren't sure what he was talking about: the overall situation, or your refusal to do anything about it, or how Enforcers treated people from the Undercity. Maybe all three; Maybe none of them. But still, you sighed, "I know."

He looked ready to argue, but instead let out a slow breath and rubbed a hand across his forehead. "If you think that's what's best... I don't want to force you into anything." He stood up and made to leave, but at the last moment turned and spoke.

"You can stay for a while longer, if you don't feel fit to make it back," he offered. "I won't be long, hopefully, and I trust you're not the type to steal."

"If you have any in, then I can't promise anything."

He smiled."There's tea in the cupboards, somewhere - biscuits, too, I think, if you want."

"My hero." You placed a hand to your chest in mock adoration.

He laughed, but seemed preoccupied with his thoughts. His hand lingered on the doorframe; he seemed to be internally debating something.

"Would we be able to meet at some point in the next few days?" he asked, suddenly timid and hesitant compared to the professional, well-practiced tone he had used only moment before. "To ensure your injuries are healing well, I mean. If you don't feel well enough to make it - which I can entirely understand after today - then that's alright. I assume you must want some time to rest and process it all. I don't want to force you to exert yourself if you're clearly still recovering or..."

He trailed off into an unintelligible mumble, seeming to take great interest in the floorboards.

"That'd be fine," you said, trying hard not to smile as wide as you wanted to. "I already feel better, so I'm sure I'd be able to visit in a few days."

"Only if you feel certain that you're better-"

"Only if I feel certain," you echoed reassuringly, cutting in before he could launch into another ramble.

He smiled sheepishly. "Okay."

"Okay."

Unspoken words seemed to linger in the air between the two of you. 'Okay, see you then.' 'Okay, I can't wait.' 'Okay, it's a... date.'

"Just know I'm here," Viktor said quietly, eyes hesitantly meeting yours. "For anything."

BAM