BACKLASH

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Delilah Buress​
Delilah followed silently, considering her options as they made their way down the stairs. When they arrived in the parking lot, she had every intention of bidding Fisher goodbye and getting as far from the mess as she could. Her mind itched with anxiety, with the dreadful notion of what had happened and all she wanted was to run. To flee. To hide and never come out of it. There was no part of her that didn't pang with painful guilt... and the last thing she wanted was to think about it.

But then Fisher held out the keys and glancing down to his leg, Delilah swore, pinching the bridge of her nose. She didn't even have a license... she'd never needed one, and the few times she had driven, she hadn't taken to it enough to bother. The beauty of a city was that driving just wasn't necessary... and she didn't need anything else tying her to one place.

Frowning, she reached out and snatched the keys, "Get in..." And moving around to the other side, she slipped behind the wheel. Her hands fell to the leather and gripped it, and breathing in deep, she stared up at the ruined corner of the hospital. Solomon... Always Solomon. Turning the engine over, she buckled in and glanced to Fisher.

"My apartment isn't far. You can get it patched up, but then you have to go..."
 
Fisher Hawkins

A wispy laugh escaped Fisher as he hauled himself into the passenger seat, clutching his leg as he leaned his head back.

"Then I have to go?" He voice was pained. "Great, Lilah. Gonna pretend you never saw me, right? Gonna pretend this never happened. It's so nice to see you're still so damn good at pushing people away."

Narrowing her eyes, Delilah looked over at him, "...I didn't need to push you away, did I Fish? You ran off all on your own."

Fisher scoffed, tone angrier now. "Ran off? We were in the fucking foster system. Did you really think they were ever gonna put us together again? I had no choice and It's not like you were even talking to me."

"...You never tried. You just gave up. Gave up on us. We
could've run, Fisher. Could've left." Eyes flicking back to the road, she tightened her grip on the steering wheel, "I was scared… and you just left."

He opened his mouth to reply but closed it a moment later. Steam billowed from his ears as he churned over what to say. "I had no choice." He bit back. "If you wanted to run you should've said something. You hid something from me and I know it brought us all down. The moment Solomon blew everything to bits there was no chance for us. You didn't trust me."

"Didn't trust you…" Breathing out, Delilah shook her head, "You have no idea why… Fisher… if you knew. It had nothing to do with trust! I just… I didn't want you to hate me."

"Anything would've been better than this." He growled. "If Iknew?! Then why didn't you ever tell me! You kept me in the dark even when they took me away. I never knew why he did it, and I've lived with it all this time. I thought we were gonna stay together, but you don't even care enough then to tell me what had brought it all apart. At least I would've had some peace of mind." His tone grew louder with every word, but the stinging pain in his leg cut him short, reeling back with a wince.

"It was my fault!" She shouted, and her palms smacked hard into the steering wheel, "It was my fault…" Her voice dropped suddenly, to a whisper and bit hard on the inside of her cheek as her eyes fogged with tears, "Everything. All of it… It… it was my fault."

He turned over to look at her, expression softening when he saw the wetness in her eyes. "Lilah.." He said, gentle now. "I never hated you. And I probably.. never could. Please, let's just.. let's put this to rest. If you're gonna kick me out, I-I.. get it. I'm a stranger now. But we should at least try. I know that I haven't." He was remorseful, and tired. If Lilah wasn't going to let him stay, that was her business. "I just.. I need to know what happened."

Jaw tensing, she stared hard out the window as she shook her head. She didn't want to go down that road again… not now, not ever. She had buried it, buried it and forgotten where the hole was. He was asking too much, and she didn't owe him anything. Not after all that had happened, not after all that had gone past…

Yet even as those thoughts occurred to her, churning in her mind, she knew she didn't mean it. It was Fisher. And he deserved better, even if he had left.

"John… He…" Swallowing, she tensed her fingers on the wheel again, "He did something. Something to me. I… I made the mistake of telling Solly… and he…" Shaking her head again, she shrugged, "I should've just kept my mouth shut, but I didn't… and Solomon just snapped. I never… I never expected him to do what he did, but I couldn't… it was too late to stop it…"

Realization flooded Fisher and he closed his eyes, trying to contain his anger. "The bastard.." He hissed, trying to breathe deep, both to calm himself and the pain. "I'm sorry, Lilah. I'm sorry." Was all he could utter, cursing himself over and over. He should've known. Should've seen it. Should've found some other alternative. If they could've reported John, or.. or something different, Solly would've never blown the place. Never snapped. Maybe they would've been okay.

"I. should've.. I could've.." He had nothing to say. Now he had left her, left her in the cold. How could he have known, how could he have known what was happening? He should've seen it coming. He never doubted John could he that despicable.

"It's not your fault. It isn't. It never was. You had to tell someone. You didn't know he was gonna snap." I just wish you had told me.

For a moment, Delilah said nothing. She had blamed herself for so long… and it wasn't something she could just will away. If she had stayed quiet, things would've gone differently, and she would never be able to forgive that. But it wasn't so easy to forgive him, either… or Solomon. Certainly not John. Theirs was a messy situation, and now it was made all the more difficult.

"...It doesn't matter." she finally said, shaking her head, "What he just did… what just happened, Fish. All this time, and he still… I thought it was finally over. I thought I could move on, and now it's just…" With a sigh, she ran her fingers through her hair, "What do we do?"

"I don't know what you want to do," Fisher started, a look of determination falling across his face. "But when I fix up my leg, I'm going to find Solomon and turn him into the police before he does this again."

"The police…" Delilah scoffed, her eyes rolling to Fisher, "Because they were so helpful before. I spent sixteen hours in questioning, Fish. Besides… what makes you think he won't just take the station down? Sometimes the good guy path doesn't work."

"It'll work somehow!" Fisher insisted. "He's a murderer, Lilah! They'll make some indestructible cage for him. He will be caught. He's on some personal vendetta, and I will find him." He hissed.

"Well, I don't want any part in it." returning her eyes to the road, Delilah's lips fell into another frown, "I spent too much time trying to forget what happened. The only reason I went to the hospital in the first place was to see if it was even true that he'd woken up. Let him have his vendetta. John deserved what he got."

"Let him have his vendetta!?" Fisher exclaimed. "Solomon could decimate the entire city! Are you really that —" Fisher fell silent, stopped by another cringe of pain as the truck went over a bump, and also holding himself back from scolding her. "Never mind. I said do what you want. I'll fix up my leg and leave, and you can go back to whatever world you were living in."

Her hands tensed on the wheel, but as Fisher trailed off, she bit her lip. It was easy enough to fill in the blank… And maybe he was right. Maybe it was selfish… But why couldn't she have a moment or two of selfishness? Why should she care about the world when they'd never cared about her?

"Fine." She muttered, and turned the wheel sharply down her street. A short distance down the road, she pulled up to the curb outside a brownstone apartment building. Killing the engine, she held out the keys, "Elevator's out. You're going to have to lean on me." Slipping out, she moved to the other side of the truck and opening his door, held out her arm.

Thrown into the car door as she jolted the wheel, Fisher swore under his breath as he wondered if she had done it on purpose. It didn't matter. If she wanted him to walk right back out — he would. Letting out a huff he latched onto her arm and leaning his weight on his good leg, he gazed at the apartment. "What floor are you on?"

"Four. It's a hike." There was a weight in her expression, and she didn't quite meet his eye, as she started towards the door. It was better this way… even if it didn't feel better. It was too complicated, getting mixed up with Fish again, getting mixed up with Solomon…

Inside, she helped him to the stairs and started the trek up, one step at a time, keeping hold of him to beat the weight of his injured leg, "...C'mon, slow poke. I thought Salmon were supposed to be able to swim upstream…?"

"Oh. Four. That's great." Fisher said defeatedly, rubbing his eyes and subsequently picking the dried blood off his face. At her joke. he almost hesitated in laughter. It had been so long since he'd heard her say something like that, and it twisted a knot in his stomach. Finally, he smiled, and a little laugh followed too. "Sure, sure." He said with a roll of his eyes, beginning the trek up to her place.

"So.. what've you been doing these past years?" He had wondered, and often. He kept his gaze trained on the steps, pulling himself up one at time, trying not to trail any blood.

collab with @Elle Joyner part 1
 
Delilah Buress​
Collab with @CloudyBlueDay​
It was slow going, and by the time they arrived, Delilah was nearly exhausted. She pulled out her keys and nudged the door opened to let him in. Closing it behind them, she sighed and shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. Playing catch up wasn't a good idea, but she wasn't going to cut him loose until she knew he wasn't gonna collapse and bleed to death in an alley somewhere…

"Took a few years, to shake it… the… the way people looked at me. The things they said. Moving away, helped, but only just. Got a job. Probably lost it today, but I guess that's par for course. Oh, and there's Nick."

He nodded wordlessly, taking in the apartment with a deep breath as he allowed himself to collapse on the nearest couch, thankful for the weight off his leg. "..Nick?" Fisher said quietly, trying to roll up his pants leg to see the damage.

Moving to the kitchen, Delilah rifled through the cabinets for some supplies, before following Fisher to the sitting area, dropping onto the coffee table in front of him, "He's my boyfriend. I should probably call him. He usually picks me up from work, but I left early today. Can you roll your pants up, or do you think we'll need to cut them?"

"..ah." Fisher began, gnawing on his lip. He supposed Delilah had moved on better than he thought. His romantic life was nonexistent. He had buried himself in both his live and found no time or interest in much else.

"C-call him?" Fish stuttered. "Do you plan on bringing him into this?" He finally managed to pull his pants all the way up, exposing the back of his leg to a bloodied mess, a piece of shrapnel sticking out of his skin. Fisher winced. It couldn't be that deep, and it hadn't bled too profusely because the shrapnel had stayed lodged inside.

"Hey, Nick, this is my old foster brother who is subsequently bleeding on our couch. No, I don't care to explain why." Fisher said in a mock high voice. "I rolled my pants leg up. Looks great."

Looking at him, Delilah's brow rose and the corner of her lip twitched up in a smirk as she gestured to the gash on her cheek, "...Pretty sure I'm gonna have to bring him into this, Fish. I'm not gonna lie to him, and it's better he finds out now, then on the news." As he rolled his pant leg up, she grimaced at the sight of the wound and shook her head, "Damn. That… Fish. I'm not a doctor… This is going to suck."

Well, at least her relationship was honest. He frowned at the gash on her cheek, letting out a grunt. "Fine." He muttered under his breath. "I'll take care of your cheek after you fix up my leg." He promised, watching her grimace at his own wound. "At least I managed to save my back," He said with a laugh. "Doesn't matter as long as you get it out and bandage it up. I can take it." He said bravely, narrowing his eyes in determination.

"Says the boy who cried when he got a splinter…" She teased, turning to her supplies to find the first aid kit. Inside was a pair of surgical steel tweezers. These, she plucked out and with a small sigh, patted the space on the coffee table beside her, "Put your foot up here… You want something to bite on?"

"Hey. It was a deep splinter." He insisted with a smile. "Besides, things have changed." The smile went away as he thought about the first times he had set out during the night with a mask on. That had hurt.

With a labored noise Fisher yanked his leg up on the table, wondering if asking for something to bite on would defeat the purpose of his argument. "Yeah, that'd be great." He said softly, now a little more scared at the prospect of how much this was going to hurt.

Smiling knowingly, Delilah leaned forward and handed him a pillow from the couch, "Don't put a hole in it…" And as he took hold of the pillow, she turned to the leg, giving it a once over, before, without much circumstance, she gripped the bit of shrapnel with the edge of the tweezers and gave a yank. Immediately, free of the obstruction, blood began to ooze and swearing, Delilah grabbed a towel from beside her, pressing it against the wound.

"Nick is gonna kill me…" Holding the towel in place, she frowned, "...You… you don't think it needs stitches, do you?"

He gripped the pillow tightly, bowing his head into it like a scared puppy. It was easier to take care of his wounds when he was alone. With a worry filled gaze, he stared at Delilah. "Are you gonna cou—"

He was cut short by his own scream into the pillow. He watched blood gush from the open wound and his breath quickened. "I-I-I don't know! It's bleeding all over the p-p-lace!" It burned like fire but was slowly becoming numb, which he was extremely grateful for. "I th-th-ink it m-might.." He mumbled. "Just.. get it over with."

"Get what over with!? I'm not a damn nurse, Fish!" Swearing again, she pressed the towel tighter, "Look… Hold this, okay? And don't move. I'm gonna try something…"

After he'd taken hold, she rose and moved to the desk in the corner of the room, shuffling around in the drawer for a minute, rambling curses as she did. Finally, with a small cry, she yanked a tube out and returned, held it up, "Superglue. No… Shut up. Listen. They use it all the time, in the army and stuff. It's gotta work…" It was a terrible idea, and she hoped desperately he had the common sense to go to a real doctor when they were finished, but for the moment it was the best thing she had.

Sitting down again, she looked up at him, biting her lip, "Ready?"

Letting out a whine at her increased pressure on the wound, he wondered how hard it would be to sew up the wound. "It could be just like sewing a piece of clothing," He whispered.

At the mention of superglue Fisher balked. "You wanna do what!?" He cried, pressing the towel against the gash, watching it become red. "F-f-fine. If that's the only way." Was he gonna be able to use his leg if part of it was superglued together? He didn't know.

With tired eyes he looked back at her, nodding. "Ready."

Frowning in thought, Delilah pulled the lid off the tube and stared at the towel, covering his leg, "Remember that time you and Solly decided to have a contest who could jump the highest off the bed… and Sol cracked his head on the ceiling fan?" Carefully, she reached to remove the towel, eyeing the wound with a flinch, "And Mrs. Tanner from the home said she was gonna have to shave his head… and he just about passed out?"

One hand on the side of his leg, she carefully squeezed the tube, swallowing hard… It had to sting, and there was no guarantee it would even hold, but if they had half a chance of him not bleeding to death, this was the best plan… With the goop in place, she leaned over to blow on it, both to aid it in drying and hopefully alleviate the sting.

Strained laughter bubbled up from Fisher's lips. He could feel himself losing his grip, vision blurring in and out. The pain came and went, hot cold, hot cold. "He would've rather live with a cracked head then shave his hair." Fisher said with another laugh as Delilah began to place the glue, gripping the pillow tight in his lap with a strangled grunt.

Once she had finished and was trying to get the glue to dry, he slumped back on the couch, exhausted as he panted for breath. "Thanks." He managed, and laughed again, almost out of nowhere. "What a mess this is."

Chuckling softly, dryly, Delilah shook her head, "Sorry of our lives, Fish."

With a small sigh, she set the glue down and carefully pressed a finger to his leg, "Seems to be holding. I'm gonna wrap it, but you need to go to a doctor. A real one. I'm not gonna be responsible if you die from an inf--"

Keys jingled outside of the door and Delilah sat up, swearing softly as she rose to her feet. The door opened and for a comical moment, Nick stood in the doorframe, staring in at them with a look of shock, before the expression melted into one deeply lined with concern, and perhaps a little anger, "...Lil. What the hell?"

Moving to him, Delilah shook her head, "It's a long story…" He reached up and his hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing across the dried blood, but she caught his fingers, gingerly pulling them away, "I'm fine, Nick. Honestly. It's not as bad as it looks. Listen… This is Fisher."

"Wait… as in…"

Nodding, she glanced back to Fisher on the couch, "John woke up, Nick. I… I know you told me to call you, but I just… I needed to see."

"What happened, Lil?"

Biting her lip, she lowered her gaze and Nick repeated himself. Softly, she sighed, "Solomon showed up."

Swearing, Nick shook his head, looking between the pair, "And he did this to you? To both of you?"

"He blew up John's room," Fisher said with another delirious laugh. "Lilah superglued my leg. Can you believe that? She superglued it!" The blood loss and the pain had combined to make Fisher a little bit woozy, and he stared at Nick with an obnoxious grin on his face. "Don't worry though. I'm gunna.. I'M gonna take Solomon down… Knockout to the rescue.."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Nick swore again, gesturing to the coffee table, "Prop it up. Let me take a look. Lil, sweetie, my bag is in the bathroom closet."

"Nick… you don't have to…"

"I'm not gonna leave him half glued together, Delilah."

Shaking her head, Delilah crossed the room to the door on the other side. She returned a moment later, with a small duffle bag, "Nick worked as an EMT for a while." Handing the bag over, she sank down, dropping her head into her hands.

"You need to let the police handle this. Both of you. This isn't a Bruce Willis movie…" Digging into the bag, Nick pulled out a handful of supplies, his gaze flickering to Delilah, briefly, "Did anyone else get hurt?"

"John's dead. Not… not sure about the rest." Delilah frowned, straightening up, "We didn't stick around."

Taking hold of Fisher's leg, Nick rubbed a thick antiseptic over the wound, "Well, I'm not gonna suggest that was the wrong move, but hell, Lil… Not a good idea. None of this. This is gonna hurt, kid. I don't have anything to numb you…" Nick said, pulling a curved needle from the bag, and a length of thick, fibrous thread. With steady hands, he got to work, stitching the edge of the frayed skin together, "How do you figure you're gonna stop this guy, hm?"

"Powersss, obviously… hasn't she told you everything?" Fisher said, words slurred. "And 'm not a kid… I'm tweenty fouuur.." His laughter turned into pained whimpers, straining his neck to look up at Nick's work on his leg before flopping back down and wishing he hadn't. "If he hadn't showed up I prolly would've bled to death," Fisher murmured with half closed eyes.

After a moment of silence and continuous labored breathing, Fisher glanced up at both Nick and Lilah. "Sorry about your coffee table," he mumbled solemnly, lowered his voice to a whisper so only Nick could hear. "Man to man… don't tell Lilah… I'm on TV sometimes."

"Secret's safe with me, Pal." Nick said with a smirk, before looking over to Delilah with a shake of his head. Delilah frowned and reaching forward, took hold of Fisher's hand.

"Stupid Trout. I told you, you needed a doctor. Is he gonna be-"

"He'll be fine." Nick said with a nod, "He's in shock, but it'll wear off. Just stay put." He pointed to Fisher, "I'm gonna get this wrapped up, and then you're gonna rest. And then the three of us are gonna have a nice, long chat…"

Winding a bandage around the stitching, he eased Nick's leg back onto the couch and grabbing a blanket from the arm, he laid it over his lap, "Lil… You sit with him. I'm gonna make us coffee. Gonna be a hell of a long night."

Fisher went silent for the most part, glancing at Lilah with a stunned look in his eye as she took his hand. "I thought you hated me?" He said gently, smiling at her like a child. He glanced at the blanket that was placed in his lap and for the first time seemed to relax, letting himself sink into the couch as his eyes fluttered. "Your boyfriend is nice."

Blinking, Delilah shook her head, "Then you're a bigger idiot than I thought. I never hated you, Fish. I just hated that you left me behind." Sniffing, clearing her throat, she glanced back to Nick, who was busying himself with the coffee pot, "He's amazing. Less than I deserve, anyway. Now…" Turning back to Nick, she smiled faintly, squeezing his hand, "Now get some rest, yeah?"

"Hmm.. yeah." He agreed gently, nodding. "Fix your cheek," he added, eyelids getting heavier and heavier until his grip on her hand fell and he slept.
 
Fisher Hawkins

It wasn't the most restful sleep, but to be quite honest, he hadn't slept in a while. His leg well taken care of and while Lilah and Nick spoke over their coffee, Fisher snored on their couch.

He woke up slow, trying to sit up before a pang of pain told him to go back down. The TV in front of him played but the pounding in his head made him ignore it. Fisher groaned as he slowly remembered what had happened. John, waking up.. seeing Lilah in front of his room, then Solomon blowing the place. Driving home, yelling a lot, then things got a little blurry when the shrapnel came out of his..

His leg. Fisher craned his neck up again and stared at his leg. His pants were still bloody and he definetly needed a shower, but his leg was bandaged well and he could definetly wiggle his toes. Good! Good. Everything was fine. Everything was perfectly --

"This explosion seems of a similar nature to the one that occurred in Millennium Hospital."

The TV crackled in his ear and he watched with wide eyes as pictures of a bus explosion came up on screen. "No survivors were found and police are working to identify the rest of the bodies. One ID was found, Rose Declain, the mother of recently murdered John Declain, who just woke up from a coma yesterday. Could this be a personal vendetta? Here's Jim with the news."

Fisher's mouth fell open. He had struck again so fast. "L-Lilah?" He called, propping himself up on the couch. "You might want to come see this!"
 
Delilah Buress​
It wasn't a conversation Delilah had ever wanted to have - least of all with Nick. He knew a lot of her history, and there was little that she held back, but those had been mostly facts. Facts were different than emotions, and she was much less comfortable sharing the latter. But when he asked her how she was holding up, as he patched the scratch on her cheek, Delilah couldn't hold in the tears and crumbling into his arms only served to bring her back there... back to that day on the front lawn in front of the Declain house...

Eventually, she had mustered up the strength to hold her emotions back, and just in time for Fisher's voice to break through. He called out and straightening, she looked to Nick with a frown, before pushing off the counter and returning to the living area. There on the screen, the headline crawled along the bottom and Delilah felt her heart sink as she dropped onto the coffee table, swearing quietly.

"What's wrong?" Nick asked, before he too looked to the television. Cheeks reddening, she raked his fingers through his head, "Hell... That's..."

"Yeah."

"...Did he see you two?" Nick asked.

Delilah glanced up, shaking her head, "I don't think so... I barely saw him. Fish got a better look."
 
Fisher Hawkins

Fisher hardly moved as Deilah and Nick entered the living room, eyes set on the TV, reflection glaring in his eyes. If only his damn leg wasn't this busted up, he'd be out there looking for Solomon right now.

Taking a moment to snap himself out of his head, Fisher turned his gaze to Nick. "No.. no, he didn't see us. If he had we wouldn't be here right now. No, we're not first on his list right now.. but we're on it alright. He'll be looking soon enough." Fisher said quietly.

The grin that Solomon sported was imprinted on his mind. It was sickening, how much joy he got from the fact that he had murdered John without a second glance. John couldn't've been awake more then hours before Solomon struck. He was absolutely psychopathic.

"I saw him come out of the room," Fish murmured. "I saw him smiling, only his smile. I knew it was him. I could feel it in my bones."

With a sudden and determined breath of air, Fisher pushed himself off the couch and stood with a wobble, leaning his good leg slightly against the coffee table for some support. "You've done a lot for me, but Lilah made it clear she doesn't want to be involved in this so I'm gonna handle it myself." He still looked pretty pained but Fisher seemed angrier now, brows stitched together. "It was good to see you. But I can't let him roam around any longer. More people are going to die and I can't sit around and watch."

@Elle Joyner
 
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Delilah Buress​
"We're..." Frowning, Delilah looked to Fisher, shaking her head, "He's not gonna hurt us, Fisher, and that's half the problem. It's Solomon... The whole reason he's even doing this is because..." Eyes twitching to Nick, she swallowed, "Because of what happened back then. It's like it's stuck in his head... But he's taken care of John, and now this... What more is there?"

Fisher rose, and Delilah trailed off as she bolted upright. Following suit, Nick stood behind her, arms across his chest, with a slightly lifted brow as Delilah continued, "Did you get hit in the head, too, Fish?? You can barely stand, and you think you're just gonna go out there, searching for him? Maybe we're not on his hit list, but you sure as hell will be if you go racing after him! I don't want to be involved, and neither should you. It's stupid!"

"You both need to just sit down and think this through." Nick said with a small sigh, rubbing his forehead, "The police exist for a reason, and it's to stop people like him. Maybe he's got some crazy vendetta to settle, but it's not gonna do anyone any good for you to rush out there in the shape you're in and try to stop him. And it's not like he can keep this up for long, without getting caught. You need to face reality. This isn't in your hands. Either of your hands. Let it go, before it consumes you, and you're no better than him."
 
Fisher Hawkins

Fisher knew what they were saying was true. He knew, but he didn't want to admit it. Glaring at them angrily (though it was mostly just anger at himself) Fisher sunk back down into the couch, taking a guilty sigh of relief as the pressure from his injured leg was lifted.

"The police can't stop a human bomb," Fisher grumbled defeated, his pride as sore as his body. "They need metahumans. It's like fighting.. some sorta... giant bomb... with.. with police officers.. dammit." He desperately averted his gaze from the condescending ones of Delilah and Nick. "Plus, I've got leads! I know Solomon! I could at least help!" Fisher said with a final crossing of his arms. He was silent for a few moments, obviously stewing on his next retort.

"What are you two, my parents?" He huffed. "Well, you're twenty-four years too late." That was a bit much, but he was filled with anger. They couldn't understand how much time and effort he'd put into his alter ego. They couldn't understand how many times he saw the MCPD walk by a case without a care in the world. He had known it from his years in the system, and he knew it from his years on the street now too. He was the best man for the job, and Solomon deserved to be locked away, knowing that Fisher himself had done it.

@Elle Joyner
 
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Delilah Buress​
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Delilah warred for a moment between the desire to punch Fisher, and hug the poor man. He wasn't wrong - not entirely. The police had always been a risk, but not just because of what Solomon could do to them... It was what they could do to her or Fisher, if they wanted that scared her. What they would do, if thy thought either of them were a threat to the city. And considering their exit from the hospital, there was far too much suspicion they would need to dodge as it was.

"I'm not interested in being your parent, Fish." She finally said, sinking down beside him on the couch, "I'm interested in keeping you alive. Do you really think, in the condition you're in, you can handle Solly? Do you think if you try to get in his way, he's just gonna give up and go to the police? You said it yourself... He's a walking bomb, and we don't know if he's got enough grasp on anything right now, not to target us... It's not safe, Fish, and I can't... I can't lose you, again." Reaching out, she grasped his hand between her own, "Not when I finally found you..."

Rather suddenly, Nick cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, and glancing up, Delilah frowned softly, returning her hands to her lap, "We should get you home. Nick can drive your truck... But Fish, I need you to promise me you aren't gonna go after Solomon. Not right now. Please...? Just... give yourself time to heal, and we'll figure this out from there. I... I can help, if it means you stay out of trouble and no one else gets hurt. I can do this."
 
Fisher Hawkins

Huffing with arms crossed, Fisher posed himself in quite a childish way. This dispute was rather reminiscent of their childhood arguments, and it wasn't like he had actually ever grown up. But as she spoke, in a tone that made him realize he wasn't being scolded, Fisher softened up, and even gazed at her with a shocked look as she took his hand.

He was surprised, frankly. That she was happy to have found him. Fisher thought she really would've liked to never see him again, ever. She had a perfect life, it seemed. A stable job, good apartment, and a good boyfriend. What more did she need? She didn't need his messes. But the fact she was.. happy.. made him feel better about all those years he'd spent wondering if he should even look for her.

Nick's sudden interruption had him blinking furiously to jump out of his own thoughts. "Right." He mumbled, thinking about how nice his own bed would be about right now. He thought a while about Lilah's proposition. He was.. pretty tired. And he couldn't afford to ruin a meeting with Solomon and risk... risk whatever Solomon wanted to do to him.

"Alright." Fisher said, defeated. "Not right now. I'm ready to go home. I've intruded on you guys enough."
 
Delilah Buress​
"You could maybe not stay away so long this time, though...?" Delilah murmured, and it was almost a whisper, as she looked down at her hands. For as angry as she was about him leaving, it had been good to see him - and maybe she'd have liked it to be under better circumstances, but she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth... Not when she was fairly convinced this was only the beginning.

Clearing her throat, she rose and brushing her hands off on her jeans, she looked to Nick with a nod. He stepped forward to collect her in a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead with a small sigh.

"I'll call you when we get there... You want me to stay over tonight?"

Biting her lip, she leaned back, "You mind?"

"Not at all... Just uh... maybe wash the cushions, first?" He smirked, gesturing to the rusty red spots left from Fisher's injuries, before he gently tapped her beneath the chin, "I love you."

"...You, too, Nick." Hugging him again, tightly, she turned to Fish, shaking her head. It was difficult, saying what needed to be said in such a short period of time. They needed more of it... time. And more answers, but it seemed like things were moving in fast-motion, and she still hadn't fully processed it, "Be careful, okay?" She finally settled on, with a small, dry smile, "And seriously... Don't disappear, again."
 
Fisher Hawkins

He bowed his head and stared at the floor as Delilah fell into Nick's arms. He wasn't sure how to look at it -- at her. It was hard, connecting the sudden seven year jump that hit him all in an instant. All of his childhood years, buried deep inside him, had resurfaced without any mercy. All over again he felt seventeen.

"I won't." Truthfully, he hadn't meant to disappear in the first place. It was just.. he knew he couldn't have been with Delilah at the time. And if he wasn't with Delilah, then he was with a whole other family in a whole other state. Alone once more. Soon she was a burdened memory.

Going down the stairs wasn't as bad as going up. With one hand on the rail and the other on Nick's shoulder, he made it without injuring himself further. Being around Nick without Lilah was, admittedly, uncomfortably. Fish wasn't sure what to say to the man, clearly in a superior position, especially knowing that Delilah must have said some things (perhaps not very good things) about him.

Settling himself in the passenger seat, making a mental note about the mess of blood he'd have to clean up, "Uhm," He started, taking a deep breath. "I live on Park Road. It's not so far from here. Near the autoshop, Dave's?" He pointed a finger to his embroidered nametag, and then gave a breathy laugh. "I've been on my lunch break for... quite some time now."

@Elle Joyner
 
Delilah Buress​
Nick nodded as Fisher instructed him where to go. The city was easy enough to navigate when one knew it well enough, and it appeared Nick had, indeed, become familiar enough not to need directions. He pulled away from the curb and into the road.

There was a long moment of silence, that stretched itself thin, until it carried a somewhat uncomfortable weight. It was broken only when the truck pulled up to a stoplight and with a small sigh, Nick cleared his throat, "You have to stay away, Fisher." He finally said, quietly, and with a note of sadness.

"From Delilah. I... I know I don't have any right to tell you this, but... but I'm going to anyway. You need to leave her alone." Staring out the window, his gaze focus, he started forward again as red flickered to green, "She's doing good. Really good, but it took her a long time to get to this place, and all of this... falling back into it? It's not good for her. It's not healthy. And it's not good for you, either. I'm not dumb enough to think you'll listen if I tell you to let it go, but at least... at least leave Lil out of it. Please."

Knuckles tensing, he frowned gingerly, "...I love her, and maybe the kind that'll stick, if you know what I mean. And I don't wanna lose her. I can't."
 
Fisher Hawkins

Fisher swallowed. He didn't know how to respond to that. Nick was really a perfect specimen, wasn't he. Letting a mixture of anger and depression settle in on him, Fisher sunk into his seat with despair. Because for all he was mad at Nick for telling him to back off, Nick was… right.

Fisher hated the fact that now he was nothing but a distraction from Delilah's perfect life. While he had worked all of his life for an autoshop job going nowhere, at least she had someone who looked after her like Nick did. Unlike me, he thought. I left her in the dust.

It's for Knockout, he told himself. Knockout was the one thing that kept him going. If he couldn't help Delilah, then he'd help everyone else. That's what he'd told himself all those years, putting on the mask every night and staying out late, earning bruise after bruise.

"Alright." Fisher said suddenly, after letting the silence envelope them once more. He was furiously biting back an angry retort - so you know what's best for her? So you have the right to cut me out of her life? But he didn't say anything. Just wondered if she'd miss him.

"This is my stop." He wasn't sure what else to say, because he knew that if he kept talking it wouldn't be good. He opened his mouth to try and at least say goodbye, but shut it right after and opened the car door, pulling himself out once he had retrieved the keys and hobbling into the building.

~

Although Fisher had agreed to stay Delilah, he kept very close to Solomon's case. Because of his loyalty to the autoshop for many years, a phone call explaining a freak accident on lunch break got him a couple days off. He spent it furthering his investigation on Solomon.

I say furthering because it was already ongoing. The fridge was a crime scene mock up and along the dining room walls were photos, post its, strings and maps and plenty of articles he had printed out. And while he was confined mostly to the couch, he sat with his janky old laptop, trying to find out where he'd hit next.

After a few days he went back to work. The autoshop was a second home and he was even glad to be back. The work kept him busy, in both mind and body. And after the whole altercation, he needed some sort of break.

@Elle Joyner
 
Delilah Buress​
Life, however... and more to the point Delilah Buress wasn't interested in granting Fisher that break. She was angry. She was angry, but more with herself than anyone else.She had allowed herself to believe... to trust that Fisher had meant what he'd said - that he wouldn't stay away. That he wouldn't disappear again, yet days passed and there was no word from him... no indications that he was anything but the ghost from her past. And she was angry.

But she was also determined. Maybe it was seeing him again, or maybe it was knowing that Solomon was out there, too and there was so much danger involved... Maybe it was that she finally felt a sense of freedom, knowing John was gone. Whatever it was, she wasn't ready to give up the way she had before. So she searched. She searched, because she had nothing better to do. Nick proved to be a less than reliable source for help, having no recollection of where he'd dropped Fisher off, but Delilah was nothing, if not intuitive, and with a bit of search, she'd finally found him.

The mechanics shop was small, tucked in between two brownstones, and while it was less than thriving, it was busy enough that she'd managed to sit out front, watching, without drawing attention to herself. It was only when she had seen him coming that she slid out of Nick's car, slamming the door shut. The heels of her boots clicked hard across the pavement as she stomped towards the garage doors and when she reached them, she paused, eyes narrowing in on the back of his head.

"So what... you're a liar now, too, Fish?"
 
Fisher Hawkins

Spinning around with a yelp, Fisher stared at Lilah with a great look of shock on his face. "L-..Lilah.." He stuttered, gauging possible exits but finding none. "How'd you even find where I work?!" He hissed, glancing down guilty.

"A.. a liar? What do you.. mean.." He knew exactly what she meant. She'd asked him not to disappear and frankly, he had. Well, what the hell was he supposed to do, call her? Nick wouldn't exactly be pleased, and he didn't want to hurt her relationship anymore then he already had. Nick was right. Delilah didn't deserve to be pulled back into this life, the one he had never left.

"I just thought I'd keep you out of it, alright?" He mumbled. "Besides, I haven't found anything else on Solomon. There was nothing to contact you for." He gnashed his teeth together. Of course there was stuff to call her for. He wanted to know what had happened in the past years, if she had any stories to tell him.. he missed how close they had been and craved it again, but .. he just... he couldn't.
 
Delilah Buress​
"How'd I..." Shaking her head, Delilah cocked a hip to the side, hand resting against it, "That's what you have to say? How did I find where you worked? I looked, Fisher! It wasn't that hard, but hell, maybe if you wanna hide out, you shouldn't pick a place that's listed, I guess."

Shaking her head, she shifted, dropping her hand to the side again, "You told me you weren't gonna disappear again, and I don't know why... but for some insane reason, I thought maybe you'd actually meant it this time. Yet here we are..." He continued and her jaw tightened as she glared deeper, "Keep me out of what, Fisher? Distinctly recall you saying you'd let it go. Let the police handle it... So I guess that's two lies."

Frowning, she breathed out sharply, "But yeah, Fish. Why the hell would I expect you to contact me? What was I thinking. I guess maybe I just expected better... Maybe I expected you to give a damn. After all this time, though... guess that was too much to ask. You know what?
I don't even know why I came here. Forget it. Good luck on your witch hunt..."
 
Fisher Hawkins

"No! No, Lilah!" Hand shooting out, Fisher grabbed Lilah's wrist to stop her from leaving. "I lied! I'm sorry, okay? Please don't go." He dropped his grip, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He couldn't deal with this all over again.. losing her. Especially not like this, in such a dangerous atmosphere.

"...Nick... asked me to leave you alone." He admitted. "And I.. I thought he was right. He told me it was.. hard for you to get over all that happened, and that you'd been doing good, and I... I couldn't ruin it for you Lilah, not all over again." Fisher shrugged helplessly. It felt wrong to incriminate Nick like this, but he had no choice.

"I do give a damn, I swear. And that's why I need to do this alone, like Nick said. You don't deserve this."
 
Delilah Buress​
As he caught her wrist, Delilah whirled around to face him, eyes narrowing, blazed and angry, but it was an expression she could hold for only so long as he poured out his apology. There was something in his voice, something broken in it, and it hurt to hear it - She hated how much it hurt to hear it. He released her and she touched her arm, frowning.

Then he continued and her gaze darkened again as she took a step back, "Nick... Nick told you what?" It explained so much. Why he had been standoffish when he had returned... why he hadn't remembered where he had dropped Fisher off. He had a mind for remembering stupid details. It was part of what had drawn Delilah to him in the first place, and she should have known that it was suspicious that he'd suddenly forget something so obvious.

And it didn't matter why. The words were noble, sure... but it didn't matter, "It wasn't your choice." Delilah hissed, angrily, "It wasn't Nick's choice and it wasn't yours. It was mine! Neither one of you considered that though, did you? You always saw me as this weak, pathetic little girl, Fisher, but that's not who I am! That's not who I ever was. And you had no right to try and keep me out of this... Not for any reason!"

Pointing a finger at him, she shook her head, "Do it again, and we're done. I'm not gonna e patronized, Fish. Not for anything, or anyone.
Got it? And as for what you're doing? I hope you know what you're risking. I really do... Because it's stupid, and if you're gonna go and get yourself killed over it, you need to know that."
 
Fisher Hawkins

Fisher's shoulders drooped. He didn't know how to save this, what else to say to make her forgive him.

"Wait, Delilah, please.." What was he supposed to do.. say sorry again? How could he just.. how could he express what he'd felt all those years? All the remorse, the guilt.. the reason he created Knockout. All for her, all to make right on what happened. He didn't know how to say it. Maybe.. maybe if she knew, about Knockout, she'd understand.

"I.. need to sh-show you --" The front door to the shop swung open, and out came a tall young man with a smile on his face. "Hey, Fish! Long time no see! Your leg alright?" The man slapped Fisher on the back, to which made Fish flinch considerably and the man looked apologetic. "Oh.. uh.. oops. Who's your friend?"

"Nice to see you too, Diego." Fisher mumbled, nervously directing his gaze elsewhere. "This is... ah.. my.." Foster sister? Friend? Ex-friend? Acquaintance? Person? "Old friend, Delilah. Lil, this is Diego. My.. coworker?" A hearty laugh poured out of Diego. "Don't be so modest, Fisherman! We're pals! Known the guy since he first started workin' here." Diego turned to Lilah as he ruffled Fish's hair and Fish laughed lightly.

"Heard about what happened to him? This guy's always getting into crazy antics. A knife in his leg at the diner, can you believe it? Last week somebody spilled hot coffee over him. I tell him to stop going to that place." Fisher flashed Delilah an uncomfortable smile. Those burns had been from a metahuman, but the diner seemed to cover him quite well.
 
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