When Eli was younger, he loved reading comic books. He could still remember his mother taking him to get the latest issue. Apparently, she figured it was a good thing if it made him read.

Eli could recall the eagerness with which he flipped through the colorful pages, reading through it quickly to find out what would happen to his favorite hero. He remembered his childish awe at each heroic—and silly at times, now that he thought about it—line of dialogue the hero delivered and the mix of disappointment and anticipation he felt when the last page had been read. At the time, the idea of someone fighting for justice—sometimes without even having super powers—seemed amazing.

It lost its appeal once Eli got old enough to realize that super heroes weren't real. He supposed it happened around the time kids at school decided they didn't like his hair or the fact that his dad wasn’t around. Apparently, that was enough to set the bullies into a frenzy. Of course, that didn't last, because Eli always knew when and how to defend himself. Granted, some dirty fighting was involved, but then again, he was small for his age so he liked to think it evened things out.

And then he met Matthew.

As annoying as he could be, Eli would admit to himself that he did do a fair bit of good things. He helped people, Eli knew that. Matthew—as Vigilante—did things that the police couldn't or simply wouldn’t so, and he did them because he wanted to. Because it was the right thing to do. Eli could respect that. Even if Matthew was an annoying jerk.

He just wished it wasn't so damn dangerous. Especially now that he knew he actually cared about Matthew. It certainly wasn't helping that he hadn't seen the man in days.

The last time he’d actually seen Matthew was on the night Eli patched him up after he'd gotten shot. He'd been gone all too soon and Eli hadn't seen either Matthew or his alter ego since then. That wasn't to say that he didn't hear anything about him.

There weren't many details—because this was Vigilante they were talking about—but the news liked to keep people talking about their biggest story. What Eli heard didn't really make him happy. It seemed that Matthew wasn't the type to be held back by something as insignificant as a near death experience. Figures.

Even with a gunshot wound, he'd somehow managed to find the guys that shot him—something Eli didn't really agree with. The men ended up in the hands of the police with a couple of bumps and bruises that served as a testament to who had caught them. They looked entirely unimpressive and Eli had to wonder how they had managed to hurt Matthew.

They were just a couple of thieves that got lucky, and maybe that just served to piss Eli off even more. It also made him wonder what would happen the next time some idiot got lucky. How many times would Matthew have to get hurt before his luck ran out.

There was a frown on his face as he glanced at the television in the corner of the coffee shop. After having caught the thieves, Matthew hadn't been back behind the mask and Eli didn't know if that was good or bad. The best he could hope for was that the man had decided to do the sensible thing and stayed home. Still, a part of him reminded him of how strange it was for Matthew to not even show up for his usual cup of coffee. 

Eli paused in his task of cleaning a table when Vigilante was mentioned in the news. As much as he didn't like to admit it, he was hoping for news of Matthew—good news preferably. There was nothing though, and the reporters just discussed their theories about what could have happened to the masked man. 

"Wonder what happened to the guy," Michael said from behind the counter. He leaned on the cool surface of it and looked up at the news, with a slight frown. Eli knew Michael was what could be considered a fan of Matthew's alter ego. He'd always defended Vigilante whenever Eli said something unflattering about him—which was very often. It was only to be expected that he would keep up with the news about the masked man.

"He's probably just hiding out somewhere," Eli said, going back to wiping down tables. "It's what he did last time he got his ass kicked." At least, that was what Eli hoped he was actually doing this time. If Matthew was just licking his wounds somewhere then he could accept that. He'd still be pissed off, but it was better than the other alternatives.

"I guess so," Michael said, a thoughtful look on his face. "If he'd really kicked the bucket it would probably be on the news by now," he reasoned.

Eli ignored the uncomfortable feeling that emerged at those words. He didn't want to think about Matthew being dead. A reasonable part of the redhead's brain thought of how Matthew had been fine the last time he'd seen him and decided that there was no need to worry. The irritatingly more unreasonable part said he could have gotten hurt again when he went after the guys that shot him. Eli had a deep dislike for that part of his brain at the moment. He channeled that dislike towards Michael.

“How would they report on it if they don’t even know who he is?” he asked.

“Oh, like that’s stopped them from making up all kinds of crappy theories,” Michael said, as if he didn’t sit on the edge of his proverbial seat every time those crappy theories were mentioned. 

“I thought you liked the one about him being hired by one of the news stations to get them more viewers.”

“Just because I have a favorite dumb theory doesn’t mean I believe it.” Eli snorted. He didn’t even try to hold it in. Which was probably why Michael was glaring at him. “That’s it, you’re cleaning the bathroom.” That sure wiped Eli’s smile from his face.

“But it’s not my turn,” Eli whined while telling himself he was definitely not whining. 

“What’s that? You want to deal with the PTA the next time they hold their meeting here?” 

Well, there was no need to be downright vicious. Eli wisely chose to get back to work after that. At the very least, arguing with Michael had managed to distract him enough to stop worrying about Matthew for a while.

A very short while because Michael—despite his protests—was a nosy fanboy.  

Despite obviously being a fan of the masked man, Michael had some very disheartening ideas as to what happened to Vigilante to keep him from popping up around the city to beat the crap out of some poor unfortunate criminals. Unfortunately, Eli was forced to listen to those ideas. He'd thought the lunchtime rush would help, but it didn't last long and a couple of students actually joined Michael in his crazy obsessing over Vigilante.

"I heard the police caught him," one guy said while Michael paused in his task of giving him his change. "You know, they've been after him for a while, probably 'cause he makes them look incompetent."

“To be fair, they are incompetent,” the guy’s friend pointed out.

"Where did you hear that?" Michael asked. 

Yeah, not at all interested in gossip, Eli couldn’t help but think.

"The internet."

Of course, Eli thought, rolling his eyes as he made his fifth decaf, nonfat, vanilla latte with soy milk—no foam. Of course. Because why wouldn't you go to a coffee shop for a decaffeinated drink that barely resembled a decent cup of coffee? Eli was reminded once more why he hated people.

He nearly ran out of the place when his shift was finally over, and was all too glad to finally be able to go home for the day with no late classes. School had been easier to handle thanks to the fact that he didn't have Michael constantly talking about Vigilante there, at the very least. Still, it had always been hard enough to pay attention in class.

The rest of the week dragged on in much the same way. It was dull, and nerve-wracking at the same time. A combination that Eli did not like.

As always, he blamed Matthew. After all, he was the person on Eli's mind more often than not. If he hadn't already resigned himself to that, Eli would have found it immensely disturbing. As it was, he just huffed in annoyance as he caught a glimpse of a dark, blurry picture of Vigilante on a newspaper that had been left on the bus stop's bench he was currently sitting on.

He'd seen the article earlier, and it wasn't more than a sad attempt to keep the spotlight on the masked man. Especially since anything related to him sold well, something Matthew seemed idiotically proud of.

"Stupid showoff," Eli said, still waiting for the bus. Thankfully, the overhang at the stop shielded him from the moderate rain—the main reason why he'd opted to take the bus instead of walking home.

His schoolbag, damp from the rain and heavy as usual, rested at Eli's side. The redhead rolled his shoulders, wincing at the ache from carrying the heavy bag. He was looking forward to getting home and taking a hot shower that would, hopefully, help him feel better. What he was not looking forward to was all the work he needed to do. With a sigh, he stretched forward and looked down the street, hoping to see the bus coming.

And then he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. 

Eli did not jump. He didn't. 

Whoever had managed to sneak up on him—which wasn't really as hard as Eli liked to think—could be heard snickering behind him at the redhead's reaction. Eli wasn't nearly half as mad at being startled as he was at seeing who was to blame for that.

"Hey Eli," Matthew greeted. As if he hadn't gotten shot before disappearing for weeks.

It was a testament to how much Eli hadn't expected to see him that he could only stare. Matthew looked, for once, like he didn't know what to expect. Or maybe he expected to be punched. Eli couldn't blame him for that because he wasn't wrong.

"What the hell? What are you doing here?" Eli asked. He had more pressing things to ask Matthew, and a lot of things he wanted to tell him—mostly complaints. At the moment, however, it was hard enough to ask even the simplest of questions.

"Well, I was just going home from the coffee shop," Matthew said. "I swear I'm not stalking you," he added, taking a step back when Eli stood up. He looked like he was ready to defend himself with the umbrella he was carrying.

"You got shot," Eli said after a moment, as if Matthew hadn't noticed or could somehow forget.

"Why yes, I did," Matthew said slowly, an eyebrow quirked. "You were there, I was there, remember?" If Eli hadn't been so surprised to see him he might have glared.  

"Did you really go back out just a day after you got shot?" Clearly, Matthew could tell Eli wasn't particularly happy about that because he took a step back.

"Well, yeah, but I wasn't hurt too badly," he said. Eli strongly disagreed, but Matthew seemed to think that was a good enough excuse. "Did you miss me?" Matthew asked, grinning.

There was a moment of silence during which the only sound was the rain and the occasional car driving past them.

"So you're feeling better?" Eli asked after a moment.

"Yep," Matthew answered cheerily, apparently happy that Eli was still willing to speak to him.

"Oh good," said the redhead with a smile.

And then he kicked Matthew—right in the shins to be exact.

"Ow! What the hell!?" Matthew said, rubbing his leg to try to ease the pain. Eli just ignored him and stepped out into the rain, deciding he'd much rather walk after all.

Even if he lived fifteen blocks away.

"Hey, Eli, wait!" Matthew called out, limping after the redhead who just ignored him.

It didn't take long for him to catch up to Eli. Soon, he was walking next to him, his umbrella shielding the redhead who was still doing his best to not look at Matthew.

"So, why exactly are you mad at me?" Matthew asked a block and a half later. He wasn't really surprised when he didn't get a response.

What did surprise him was Eli jogging to the bus stop ahead just as the bus arrived. Matthew was left to hurry after him, barely making it, and scrambling to close up his umbrella and pay. He did his best to ignore the odd look the driver was giving him instead sighing tiredly and slumping into the empty seat next to Eli at the back of the bus. In the corner. Where the redhead had ducked down.

Clearly he was avoiding Matthew.

"You're so mean, making an injured person run like that," Matthew pointed out. Eli didn't so much as turn to look at the man sitting next to him. "If you don't say anything I'll look like a crazy person talking to myself," Matthew said.

"I'm not talking to you," Eli said evenly.

"But you just did," Matthew couldn't help but point out. This time Eli did turn around, but it was only to give Matthew a withering look. "Okay, shutting up," the man hurried to say.

They sat in silence for a while, the sound of the rain pattering against the windows a constant along with the soft snores of a man about two seats ahead. It would have been a perfectly normal bus ride if not for Matthew sitting next to Eli. Maybe it was because he was so used to being on his own—preferably so during bus rides—but Eli couldn’t help but notice the warmth Matthew emanated as he sat next to him. It was with some amount of horror and embarrassment that Eli realized he’d almost been leaning against Matthew.  

Eli stood and nearly climbed over Matthew as they reached his stop, and the older man just barely managed to get out of his seat before he was knocked out of it by a very red faced Eli. He followed the redhead back out into the rain. Thankfully, it had eased up a bit, but Matthew still offered Eli the bit of shelter his umbrella provided. This time, at least, he didn't try to get away.

Neither man spoke as they walked, though Matthew probably only stayed quiet for fear of upsetting Eli more. He was also probably surprised that the redhead didn't say anything when Matthew practically followed him home. Of course, by the time they got there Eli had resigned himself to it and it wasn’t like Matthew didn’t already know where Eli lived.

Which was kind of creepy, actually.

It probably said a lot about Matthew—and how weird he was—that it was the first time he used the front door to enter the building Eli lived in. He followed Eli up the stairs, clearly trying not to laugh at the way he stomped up to the second floor and down the hall.  Eli fumbled with his keys and nearly dropped his bag, but moved away when Matthew tried to take his backpack from him, shooting the man a glare.

"So, uh, can I come in?" Matthew asked as Eli opened the door and stepped in. The only response he got was the door being shut in his face. "Eli, come on!" he called.  With a huff, Matthew knocked on the door, waiting for a reply. After a while, he knocked again and, as expected, received only silence.

On the other side of the door, Eli felt only slightly ridiculous at sitting on his couch, glaring at the entrance to his home. He listened carefully as Matthew finally seemed to give up and left, his footsteps growing fainter as he walked away.

Hope that kick left a bruise, he thought vindictively as he pulled his books out of his bag, ready to do some work. At the very least, that would keep his mind from dwelling on Matthew.