I opened the hatch. There was a small latter leading down to the floor below. It was short enough that I could probably jump it, even with the state I was in. I decided not to though, I was already in pain. I winced slightly as I made my way down the later slowly. Maybe I should have just jumped, I don’t know if this was really less painful in the end. I got to the bottom of the later and looked around, it seemed I was in a maintenance room. I unlocked the door from the inside and creaked it open a bit. Trying to use my hearing while I was in pain was difficult, my concentration was off.

I tried to listen down the hall but could tell I had over shot it by a lot. Instead I found myself listening to someone talking on the phone a few streets down. Screw it, I just needed to go. I couldn’t see anyone down the hall and stepped out, limping slightly as I went. I hadn’t broken anything… I don’t think, but it was definitely making moving around painful. From what I could tell this place looked like an apartment building which was making me a little uneasy. The chances of someone seeing me wasn’t as high as it would have been if this were an office building but still.

I managed to make my way to the elevator, which was risky but I really didn’t want to go down however many flights of stairs there was. When I stepped in the first thing that hit me was the smell. It made me think of a mix of an elderly person's house and urine. I pressed the button for the ground floor and the doors creaked shut. I could see my reflection in the mirror part of the button panel. Even though you couldn’t really see the blood that had soaked into my shirt, with the fluorescent lighting of this elevator it was clear that my entire left leg was soaked through with something. At least it definitely didn’t look like I had pissed myself. I looked up and watched the numbers slowly countdown. I leaned back against the wall and rested my head against it.

Why do I even do this? I feel like every six months I ask myself that after getting hurt using my abilities. But then it always comes back to the same thing, I have them, why would I not use them? Sometimes I feel like my dad expects me to have a better reason. God why did I have to think about my dad right now, that’s what got me hurt in the first place.

I chewed the inside of my lip, shifting slightly and stifling a wince. Why did he… Why am I even wondering that, I know why, he’s still weird about me being trans. I hate that I’m now questioning whether or not I should feel guilty about how I reacted. Fuck like, I should be allowed to be mad and hurt. My head was starting to throb. I heard a ding and the elevator clunked to a stop, the doors sputtered open right after. That elevator is defiantly violating some safety regulations.

I walked out and into what I assume was the lobby. There were a few people sitting on the couches that were there. One had there arms crossed over there chest and looked like they were asleep, while the other was sucked into their phone with there headphones in. So basically, perfect for me. I walked passed and neither of them reacted.

I exited through the front and got to the street. It was dark out now, the sun really does set fast this time of year. This was good for me though, less obvious that I was injured, even with the street lights and fluorescent sines. As I walked, the lack of people was unsettling. It’s not usually this dead in this part of town is it? Even considering the time. My gut was tight in a way that made me uneasy. I looked around me and there was just one or two people on the street.

I tried to use my hearing again, listening around for… I don’t know what, just something. It was still hard to be even remotely precise but I did pick up something, that voice, it seemed familiar. Then my focus shifted again as I could hear running from somewhere. It sounded like it was just a few streets down. I picked up the pace and tried to just ignore the pain.

I got to about a street away from where I had heard the running when someone suddenly turned a corner and practically grazed me as they passed. Shit I must really be out of it to not have heard that. I tried concentrating again and heard another set of footsteps coming from the same direction the last ones had come from, running just as fast, if not faster. I moved over to get out of the way but instead just ended up right in there path, they knocked into my and I fell on my ass. I winced and looked up to see that I was right, that voice had been familiar, because standing there was that guy from the other night. He didn’t even look at me at first though at just stared ahead at where the other person had run off to.

“Shit.” He said, before finally looking down at me. He seemed irritated. “You alright kid?” He asked, offering his hand. I couldn’t tell if he was irritated at me for getting in his way or if he was just irritated that he lost sight of that other person.

“Yeah.” I said back, reaching up my hand to take his. I guess he didn’t recognize me, I was pretty far last time so it’s not that surprising. Looking at him this up close though, his facial features, was he actually not a man? Had I assumed wrong? I’ll have to ask later what pronouns they use, if I get the chance. As they grabbed my hand and yanked me up though, there expression changed.

“Shit, you’re bleeding.” I looked at the hand I hand just reached out, only then seeing the red smears. I didn’t realize that the blood had dripped down my arm.

“Oh, yeah, I guess so.” I said, retracting my hand from them.

“Let me see.”

“It really doesn’t hurt that bad.” That was a lie.

“Ok but it’s my fault you got hurt and I don’t like having that kind of shit on my conscience.” I’d tell them that this injury wasn’t form them but it was a good cover so I just went with it anyway. I sighed and took off my sweater, doing my best not to wince but not managing very well. The open wound’s stung as the inside of my seater touched them while trying to take it off. Plus some of the blood had gotten thick as it’s half dried which made me need to peel off the sleeve in some places like a sticker. Once I had finally gotten it off I saw the shook in their eyes, I had pretty much shredded the skin on the entire left side of my arm. It looked fucked. Pieces of skin were sticking up and it was completely painted with my blood. “Holy shit we have to get you to a hospital.” Oh no.

“No it’s fine, I just need to get home.” I really didn’t want to go home but I definitely couldn’t go to a hospital.

“Do you see your arm? I don’t even know how you’re just standing there like that kid.”

“It’s fine, really.” I didn’t know what to say, I knew convincing them that I was fine, especially at this point, was a pretty hard sell. They breathed out.

“I don’t know why you don’t want to go to a hospital but I have a friend who’s good with this kind of thing. Can I at least bring you to her to get patched up?” I still wasn’t feeling keen on this but at least I wouldn’t be in a hospital. I mulled it over.

“Yeah, I guess that’s ok.” I finally say after a moment. I had a different motive for agreeing though, I had wanted to talk to them since I first saw them saving that kid the other day. Maybe I could find out what that was about, and if they really are a vigilante like Elis had said they might be. Granted, they could also be working for the mafia… I guess we’ll just have to see how this goes.