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“Fuck.”
Courtney hit the pavement hard enough to rattle her teeth. Okay. Yeah. Swan-diving, fucked up arm first, into a goddamn picture was probably not her finest decision. Then again, neither was bailing out of a moving ambulance.
“Is that fuckin’ Visi?” Robert croaked from where he’d landed. Well—where he’d been dropped. Important distinction. Mostly because he sounded pissed.
Uh oh. Angry Robert. Which meant she absolutely should not turn invisible.
Which, naturally, made her want to do exactly that.
“Visi!” the Z-team shouted in chaotic unison, like a flash mob choreographed by unmedicated maniacs with too much enthusiasm and zero rhythm.
And she really considered it. One deep breath and she'd be gone. Vanish. Problem solved. Later, fuckin’ losers.
Instead, she laughed. Hard. It ricocheted off asphalt and brick, breaking into giggles, too loud, too bright, the kind of laugh no one should be making while they were probably bleeding out.
The scolding hit next.
“Did you seriously break out of an ambulance?” Blonde-currently-brunette Blazer asked, dripping with disappointed-mother energy.
“You stupid fuckin’ idiot,” Chase added, as tactful as ever.
Then came the encouragement.
“Damn, that a new record?” Golem asked.
“Good going, mate,” Punch-Up chimed in.
And the rest? Still whooping, laughing, and celebrating like it was just another Tuesday.
Everyone except Robert, who shoved through the mess and planted himself beside her. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Oh man, he looked fuckin’ pissed. It was kinda hot.
“Hey...”
He glared like she’d kicked his dog. “You jumped out of an ambulance.”
“I bailed,” she corrected. “There’s a difference.”
Somewhere behind them, the Z-team was still hollering like drunk cheerleaders.
“There’s a concussion,” he said. “That’s the difference.”
She tried to sit up. Pain punched her head so hard she swore she could taste colors. Her shoulder screamed even louder. “Ow. Okay. Yeah. Not ideal. Still worth it, though.”
Chase swooped in before Robert had a chance to say anything else. “Alright, party’s over,” he announced as he hoisted her up like she weighed nothing.
“Wait—what are you doing?” Courtney squawked, clutching at his shoulder.
“Taking you to the hospital. What the fuck do you think I’m doing?”
“I don’t need it, really, I’m fine—”
He adjusted his grip; the motion was small, the pain was not. A bolt slammed through her shoulder and cracked behind her eyes.
“Fuck!”
“Chase!” Robert’s voice appeared beside them, reaching for her.
Chase jerked back, eyes narrowed. “Relax. I’ve got her.” He bounced her once, just to prove the point, “If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll shake her hard enough she throws up. Teach her somethin’.”
Courtney gagged, hand slapped over her mouth. “Keep moving me like that and you’ll get your wish.”
“Good. Maybe then you’ll shut the fuck up.”
Robert’s hand found hers. “Chase. Be careful.”
“She’s concussed, Robert. Not made of glass. Stop being a pansy.”
Robert ignored him and focused on her with a look that was somehow equal parts furious and stupidly fond. “You are going straight to the hospital,” he said, his voice firm in a way that brooked zero argument. “And you are going to stay there.”
“I can stay,” she said, though it came out more like a question than a promise.
“No,” Robert insisted, leaning closer. “You’re going to wait for me. At the hospital.”
That did something embarrassing and warm to her chest. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll— I’ll wait.”
“Good.” He gave her hand one last squeeze, then leaned down and kissed her. Soft. Unrushed. Completely unfair.
Courtney forgot how to breathe for a solid three seconds.
Chase groaned. “Fantastic. Love this for you two. Now get the fuck out the way.”
“Yeah,” Robert said without looking away from her. “Okay.”
She tore her eyes off him. One more second and she’d short-circuit, and she really didn’t need to white-out in front of the whole squad.
And then she remembered who was carrying her.
Chase.
This was going to be so awkward.
It got even more awkward when Chase’s arms locked around her without warning, and the world snapped sideways.
Courtney squeaked. Actually squeaked. “Ch–Chase—!”
“I’d shut your mouth unless you’re tryin’ to catch flies.”
She wanted to argue. God, she wanted to tell him her brain was doing laps in her skull. But she also wasn’t stupid enough to piss off the guy currently carrying her at murder-velocity. So she swallowed the comeback, clung to the front of his suit, and hoped he wasn’t the type to drop people for fun.
Wind roared, but Chase kept the pace even. No dips. No sharp banks. None of the jolting, punishing swings he’d used on her earlier. Just clean, controlled lines.
He held her the whole way. One arm around her back, the other under her knees, steady and sure as the sky blurred by.
And that’s when it hit her. This was exactly how he’d carried her the first time—back when he couldn’t stand her, back when he still saved her life anyway. Even when he treated her like trash, he held her like this. Like someone who didn’t know how to stop being good, no matter how hard he tried to act like the opposite.
She should say something. Apologize. Try. But she blinked and suddenly they were planted in the middle of an intake bay in front of a nurse who looked freshly spun out of a cyclone.
Chase didn’t bother greeting him. “Can you get this fuckin’ idiot to the emergency room?”
Fuck, right. Extra super speed.
The nurse stared for a full second, stunned in place, then gave a quick nod and pointed to a nearby stretcher.
Chase moved without another word. He carried Courtney over and slid her onto the stretcher before she could decide whether standing was even an option. She sank into the thin mattress with a grunt, and he immediately shoved her higher so her head reached the pillow.
“She’s slippery,” he told the nurse, snapping the rail up until it clacked. “You gotta watch her. Blink once, and she’ll sneak right off.”
“I would… not,” Courtney said. Even she heard the lie in it.
“Yes, you would,” he shot back, already locking the other rail. “You’re a worst-case scenario with legs.”
The nurse made a heroic attempt at professionalism. It failed. A horrific cough-snort burst out of him, and he immediately pretended to be deeply invested in the wall.
Nope. No. Courtney was not gonna argue. She had important words to say.
“Chase, I—”
“What? You gonna tell me I’m wrong?”
“No, I—”
“So you admit you’re a fuckin’ idiot.”
God. This was fuckin’ impossible.
Courtney pursed her lips and took a deep breath. “Chase—”
“Visi. Shut the fuck up.”
Her mouth snapped closed before her brain caught up.
Visi?
He’d never called her that before.
Chase rested a hand on the rail beside her, tapped it once with his fingers. “I don’t want your apology. You did one stupid thing and one good one.” A pause. “The good one was bigger.”
Courney blinked. “...Really?”
“Yes.” His voice held no sarcasm, no hedging. “You saved Robert. He’s alive because of you. That matters more.”
Something tightened and twisted behind her ribs. Her throat burned. Her eyes stung.
Nope. Absolutely the fuck not. She was not gonna fuckin’ cry in front of a hot nurse, and definitely not in front of Chase, who'd never let her live it down.
Gritting her teeth, Courtney shoved the lump down. “So, do I get a sticker for that or what? ‘Cause if I’m doing heroic shit now, I want a sticker. A shiny one. With glitter.”
Chase gave her a look that made her feel like he could see right through her, but the corner of his mouth twitched anyway. “You did good, kid,” he said, meaning it more than anything on a sticker sheet.
Courtney opened her mouth, maybe to joke, maybe to say something real for once, but the room tilted, all the pain and nausea finally catching up to her.
Oh. Oh, that wasn’t good.
The nurse darted to her side. “We’re taking her in,” he said, unlocking the brakes. “Deep breaths, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart? Wow. Courtney must’ve really looked like shit.
The stretcher jerked into motion. Courtney tried to lift her head, maybe toss Chase one last eye-roll so he wouldn’t think she was going soft, but her eyelids were already dragging shut.
Someone adjusted something near her head. Cool fingers brushed her temple. “You’re doing fine. Just relax.”
Relax. Easy order. Her body was way ahead of her anyway.
The last thing she caught was Chase’s smile as he talked to some other nurse, and then her own nurse’s voice thinned out. The edges of the world softened. Every knot in her chest unspooled as if she were floating over water.
Passing out didn’t seem like the worst decision she’d make today.
The darkness rose to meet her, smooth and dim, and Courtney let herself drift into it, relieved more than she’d ever admit out loud.
─•────•───── 𖦤
The last time Robert walked into a hospital, he didn’t see the outside world again for four months. That alone was enough to make his shoulders tense the moment the automatic doors slid open.
The place was packed, and it wasn't even past noon. Stretchers rolled past in a steady parade, wheels rattling against the tile. Nurses moved with focused speed, calling out vitals, weaving around one another with the practiced rhythm of people who had no time to trip. The air smelled like antiseptic and coffee that had been reheated one too many times. Nearly every chair was filled with someone holding an ice pack, a bandage, or a shaken stare.
Robert walked near the wall with his hands buried in his jacket pockets, watching the city’s newest mess trickle through the doors one injured survivor at a time. Busy, frantic, exhausted, somehow still moving. Just like the city itself.
Just like him.
With every step, his bones grew heavier, as if the noise and motion were finally pushing through the last of the adrenaline holding him together.
Someone would probably tell him to get checked out. Robert already knew he wouldn’t.
At least the wait at the front desk was short. The nurse there kept typing, eyes half-open and framed by dark circles that said her shift should’ve ended a whole other shift ago. Robert waited while she muttered to herself and finished whatever she was wrestling with on the screen.
He cleared his throat. “Hi. Uh. I got a call to come in.”
She didn’t look up. “Name?”
“Robert Robertson.”
That got a quick, involuntary smile out of her. Robert pretended not to see it.
“For Invisigal?” she asked, her voice lighter than before.
“Yeah. That’s her.”
“Right,” the nurse said. The smile vanished as she clicked through a few screens. “She’s being discharged.”
Robert blinked. “Already? I thought she'd still be pretty banged up.”
“She is.” The nurse let out a sigh and rubbed her temple. “But we’re at capacity. Technically over capacity. We’ve got patients in chairs, some recovering in the staff break room. One guy lay down in the hallway and told us to ‘just mop around him.’ If someone’s stable enough to stand, we move them out. And she can. Sort of.”
“‘Sort of’ doesn’t sound… great.”
“No. It doesn’t.” She pushed her chair back and stood with a tired grunt. “Come on. I’ll take you to her.”
Robert followed, doing his best impression of someone who wasn’t about to black out. They stepped into the hallway. Sure enough, a guy was stretched out on the floor, half on his side, a folded jacket under his head. The nurse walked over him without slowing. Robert mirrored her, eyes straight ahead—felt like the polite thing to do.
“Long shift?” he asked her as they cut through curtained bays and the aforementioned rows of chairs passing for beds.
“Twenty hours. Happens more than it should. Wouldn’t recommend it.”
“Noted,” Robert said. “I’ll cancel my application.”
The nurse let out a small laugh and shouldered through a set of double doors. The lights on the other side were dimmer, the noise more contained. She stopped in front of a room with glass doors, a beige curtain drooping halfway across the inside.
“In here.”
Robert stepped inside as the nurse shut the door behind him.
The first thing he noticed was how still Courtney was, and the second was how wrong that felt.
She sat on the bed in a different shirt than before, one arm tucked neatly into a sling that looked a size too big for her. It swallowed her shoulder a little, made her look smaller than she had any right to. Her head tipped to the side, chin down, eyes glossy and half-lidded.
Another nurse stood close, adjusting the sling, smoothing it down with practiced care. She caught the look on Robert’s face and answered it before he could open his mouth.
“She’s on ketamine,” she said. “She’s a little groggy.”
“A little,” Robert echoed, lips twitching despite himself.
Courtney blinked at him. Once. Twice. Then her mouth curved into a lopsided smile, recognition landing a second late but sticking the landing.
“Hi.”
His grin widened. “Hey.”
“She was in quite a bit of pain when she came in,” the nurse continued. “We cleaned the wound, irrigated it thoroughly. No debris left behind. Everything looks good.”
Robert nodded along automatically, but his attention stayed glued on Courtney. To the way her shoulders slumped like gravity had turned up. To the way her fingers twitched like she’d forgotten what they were for.
The nurse moved into the rundown. Pain meds, dosage, timing, don’t mix anything, sling stays on—yes even if she argues—wound care, signs to watch for, follow-up appointment already circled in pen.
She took the papers off her clipboard and handed them to Robert.
Courtney gave a lazy thumbs-up that wobbled at the top.
“She’ll probably sleep the day off,” the nurse said. “Should be back to normal by morning.”
He took the papers without looking away. “Aw. So this version of her wears off.”
“Fuck you,” Courtney shot back, or at least attempted to. It came out more as a suggestion than an insult.
“Yes,” the nurse answered, clearly entertained. “Eventually. She’s going to be in a lot of pain when it does. She will need someone to look after her for the next few weeks.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Robert said, no doubt, no humor. He meant every fuckin’ word.
Something must’ve shown on his face, because the nurse shifted, suddenly busy. “I need to, uh, follow up on a couple things before she's officially discharged. Make sure everything’s cleared.” She gave him a small, knowing smile and was already backing toward the door. “I’ll be back.”
She slipped out before either of them could say anything.
The door slid shut. The room seemed to exhale with it.
Robert crouched down at the foot of the bed. “I don’t think she’s actually following up on anything.”
Courtney was still frowning at absolutely nothing. Her eyes narrowed as they finally found him, and she leaned forward a little, clearly trying to get a better look. Robert leaned in too, matching her movement like that might help things click.
“Hi,” she repeated.
That got a chuckle out of him. “Hey.”
She kept staring at him, her brow knitting tighter, then relaxing, then tightening again. Robert got the sense she’d recognized him earlier and promptly lost him somewhere between then and now.
Her good hand came up and landed on his shoulder, steadying herself more than him. “Robert.”
Well, that was cute.
“Courtney,” he said, barely louder than a breath.
Something sharpened in her expression, like the final piece sliding into place, and before he knew it, she leaned in to kiss him. She missed by an inch, her mouth catching the corner of his instead. A blink. A huff. Then she tried again, slower, more careful. This time she found him. The kiss was tender, clumsy, over almost as soon as it started.
She didn’t go far when she pulled back, just enough to see his face, her forehead resting against his. Her voice dropped. “I waited.”
Robert smiled, a wide, stupidly proud smile that made his chest hurt. He lifted his hand and brushed her hair back from her face. She felt real, warm, close. Part of him knew she probably wouldn’t let him do this if she wasn’t high, and that thought barely had time to sting before it got drowned out by how much he loved her anyway.
Fuck. He did love her, didn’t he?
The knock at the door startled the thought clean out of his head. A second later it opened, and the nurse from earlier stepped back in, clipboard in hand like she’d never left.
“So. Everything looks good?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, but it was the kind of nod that didn’t quite sell it. “You’re officially good to go. Take it easy today. And tomorrow. And probably the day after that too.”
Robert gave her a small smile and reached for the edge of the bed. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s try standing.”
Getting Courtney off the bed took a minute. She wobbled as soon as she stood up.
“Easy,” he murmured.
“I’m easy,” Courtney replied, even as she leaned basically all her weight into him.
They shuffled out together, slow and careful, Courtney pressed against his side. He didn’t mind. Not even a little.
Outside, he flagged down a taxi and helped her in, one hand hovering until he was sure she was settled. When the door closed and the car pulled away, her head found his shoulder. She was asleep almost immediately, mouth slack, breathing deep and even.
Robert stared out the window, the city sliding by in a blur, and let the day hit him all at once. How shitty it had been. How close it’d felt to going real bad. How relieved he was that they were done. That Courtney was okay. That this part was over.
The driver glanced back. “Where to?”
Robert gave him his address, then winced. Couch. She was going to have to sleep on the fuckin’ couch. He rubbed his eyes and let the thought slide right off. He was exhausted. They were both alive. That was enough for today.
He moved just enough to rest his head against hers. Courtney didn’t stir. The cab hummed along, and for the first time in a fuckin’ while there was nothing Robert needed to do.
They fell asleep like that, tangled together in the back seat, the world finally quiet for both of them.
─•────•───── 𖦤
Robert grunted when the door finally gave, keys still clenched in his hand, his shoulder wedged under Courtney’s arm so she wouldn’t tip over. Whatever they’d put her on had fully kicked in.
He could blame it on how much longer to get back it took. City traffic had been a disaster, all horns and break lights, and their cab driver drove like he had something to prove. Robert had jolted awake three separate times from how hard the guy slammed the brakes. Courtney would’ve eaten the dashboard if he hadn’t hauled her back by the collar at the last second. Fuckin’ asshole was lucky Robert was too tired to say anything.
At least the Red Ring kept most of the damage inside the city limits. Robert wasn’t sure he could stomach coming home to find his place torched on top of all the other fuckin’ disasters packed into that day.
He managed to get the door shut and locked behind them and let Courtney sag back against it for half a second while he fumbled with the lock. The lock clicked. She slid anyway. He caught her, arms tightening around her waist, and that was when he saw it. A dark, spreading spot on her shoulder. Not a lot. Not pouring. But definitely blood.
“Great,” Robert muttered. Then, louder, “Fuck.”
Shifting his grip, he adjusted her higher against his chest. “Alright. Bathroom. We’re going to the bathroom.”
The hall felt longer than it ever had. Courtney got heavier with every step, mumbling something that might’ve been an apology, or maybe a complaint about the light being too bright. Robert didn’t stop to figure it out. He just kept moving.
He got her onto the toilet and made sure her head was tipped back against the wall, stable, not slumping forward. He waited a beat, watching for any sign she was about to slide off.
When he was convinced she’d stay put, he did a quick sweep of the apartment. Grabbed paper towels from the kitchen. Dug a few bandages out of the junk drawer. Then a work shirt off the back of a chair. A clean one, he figured. He gave it a sniff. Clean enough.
Back in the bathroom, he knelt in front of her, eyes fixed on the stain spreading through the fabric.
“I, uh,” he said, clearing his throat. “I need to take off your shirt.”
Courtney nodded, but Robert was pretty sure she wasn’t actually listening. Her eyes weren’t really on him. He hesitated, and then his attention drifted back to the dark blood spot on her shirt. That decided it for him.
The sling came off first, eased away inch by inch. Then his hands found the hem of her shirt, his eyes watching her face the whole time. He was waiting for a wince, a hitch in her breathing, anything that said this hurts or to stop. Courtney still didn’t give him much to work with.
“Okay,” he said quietly, more for himself than for her.
Robert freed her right arm, then worked the fabric off her left without pulling or twisting. When the shirt finally came off, she was bare in front of him.
His brain noticed immediately. Loudly. Then again, just to be sure. It tried to turn the whole moment into something complicated and wildly unhelpful.
God, he wished she'd just wear a fuckin’ bra.
Shutting that down as best he could, Robert forced his eyes to stay exactly where they were supposed to be. Her shoulder. To change the bandages, clean the blood, and not overthink it.
Once the bandages were off, though, it got a lot harder to look at anything else. The hole wasn’t big, which felt like a small win, all things considered, and it looked clean. Cleaner than he’d expected. The sutures were loose, the bleeding minimal, just a shallow, dark pool collecting at the edge of the wound. The skin around it was red and a little swollen, the kind of angry puffiness that didn’t require a medical degree to understand.
It looked like it fuckin’ hurt.
Courtney had been right, too. The bullet went straight through. On the other side was a matching wound, also stitched shut—this one wasn't bleeding.
Still didn’t look like it hurt any less.
She really took one for him. Just stepped in and let it happen.
She was in pain for him. Even more tomorrow.
Robert had to stop himself from staring. Had to stop himself from doing a lot of things, actually. Leaning in. Letting his hand linger where it didn’t need to. None of that helped her, and right now helping her was the only thing he was allowed to care about.
He cleaned the wound carefully, wiped away the blood, kept his hands steady even when she flinched. Changed the bandages. Pressed them down just enough. Taped everything in place. When he finished, he grabbed his work shirt, slid it over her shoulders and buttoned it up. It hung loose on her, sleeves swallowing her hands.
He settled the sling back where it belonged, helped her to her feet, and then—
“Robert.”
Her voice barely reached him, hushed and a little unfocused. Courtney swayed, just enough that he noticed, and he slid a hand to her elbow before she could tip too far. Her palm found his chest in the same moment, fingers curling lazily into the fabric of his shirt.
“Courtney,” he said, matching her tone.
She looked up at him then, heavy in that way that came more from being drugged than emotion, but there was something raw underneath it. A vulnerability he’d only seen once from her that had stuck with him more than he liked to admit. Her gaze slipped to his mouth, lingered a little too long, then climbed back up. Robert took the hint. Or thought he did. He was already leaning in when it occurred to him he might be guessing.
“Did you just take off my shirt?”
The question stopped him, a laugh catching in his throat at her mildly confused tone. “Yeah, I did.”
He braced for the response he knew was coming. The sideways joke. The aggressively groggy, inappropriate comment.
Instead, Courtney’s expression changed. Her brow creased slightly as her hand slid away from his chest to her own, fingers tugging at the fabric of her shirt.
“You saw,” she said after a moment. “Didn’t you.”
It took him a second. Then he followed the curve of her hand, noticed the way her fingers hovered just under her ribs, and almost on cue he caught the faint red glow bleeding through the fabric where she’d pressed into herself.
He’d almost forgotten about them.
“Hey,” he whispered when she started to pull back. He cupped her face with both hands and stepped closer, her skin warm under his palms. “It’s okay.”
Robert didn’t know if she was acting like this because she didn’t want anyone seeing them or if it was just him she was worried about, but he honestly couldn’t care any fuckin' less, because Courtney was folding in on herself, looking way too guilty for someone who’d just taken a fuckin’ bullet for him, and Robert wasn’t about to let her sit with that.
So he leaned in and kissed her.
She relaxed almost instantly. The tension melted out of her shoulders, her breath evened against his mouth. She kissed him back, tentative at first, then more sure, and that was all it took to fuck with whatever restraint he’d been holding onto since her shirt came off.
He kissed her deeper. Like the last few hours hadn’t sucked him dry. Like he wasn’t running purely on stubbornness.
For a few seconds, it was perfect.
Then she stopped.
He pulled back and found her sagging forward, eyes shut.
Robert chuckled. Should’ve known that’d happen.
She gave in at last, weight settling against his chest, her forehead knocking against his chest.
Fuck, he loved her.
He shifted his grip and scooped her up, carrying them to the couch. He set her down carefully and waited a beat, watching her chest rise and fall, like if he looked away too fast she might stop. When she didn’t, he straightened with a quiet grunt.
Robert should probably take care of himself now.
The shower was fast and miserable. He stepped under the water and immediately winced, shoulders locking up when it hit the cuts across his chest. He braced a hand on the tile, eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the sting to spike and then fade into something tolerable.
Soap was a bad idea, but skipping it felt worse somehow. He rinsed quickly, breathing through clenched teeth, then shut the water off and grabbed a towel. The mirror didn’t do him any favors. The damage looked uglier than it felt—thin, red lines, a couple still bleeding.
He'd have to remember to thank Coop for not going too deep. He dug through the leftover bandages and patched himself up as best he could. With a clean shirt and no pants, he flipped the bathroom light off and padded back toward the living room.
Courtney was still asleep, slumped just how he’d left her. Robert lingered a moment. Longer than a moment. His thumb brushed over her cheek, traced her jaw, memorizing her face like he wasn’t already carrying it with him. Then he turned, crossed the room, and sank into his chair. He was out before his body even finished settling.