“I need to go out tonight.” I repeated again.

“No.”

It came out too fast to argue with, but I didn’t flinch.

“Move.” I said coldly.

She moved to step in front of the door.

“Also no.”

I stared at her.

She stared back.

Unblinking.

Unmoved.

“You don’t even know what you’re walking into,” she said, voice low but sharp. “You heard ‘ambush’ and decided that means you should be there?”

“Yes.”

Her jaw tightened. “That’s not how this works.”

“It is tonight.”

Silence. Tight. Immediate.

Then—

“You’re serious,” she said.

Not a question. But I didn’t answer either. Didn’t need to. Because I was already moving past her, grabbing what I needed without thinking—

Bandages. Sutures. Antiseptic. Anything that would keep someone alive long enough to get back here. My hands moved fast. Efficient. Familiar.

“Dylan—”

“Don’t.”

The word came out flat.

Final.

I didn’t look at her.

“If you’re going to stop me, do it now,” I added, stuffing the last of the supplies into a bag. “Because I’m not changing my mind.”

A pause. Longer than the others.

Heavier. But I braced for it—

The argument. The order. The—

“…fine.”

I blinked and Turned to look at her.

“What?”

She was already pulling out her phone. Expression set and Focused.

“If you’re going to do something this stupid,” she said, dialing without hesitation, “then you’re not doing it alone.”

I frowned. “I didn’t ask—”

“You don’t have to.”

She lifted the phone to her ear.

“Yeah,” she said the moment the line connected. “I need everything you have on the east district. Now. And I need names.”

A beat.

Then she turned away slightly, lowering her voice.

“And Anyone who owes us. Anyone who owes him.”

My chest tightened.

“…what are you doing?” I asked quietly.

She didn’t answer. Not right away.

Just kept talking, pacing once across the room as she listened.

Then—

“…I don’t care what they are,” she said into the phone. “If they can stand and follow instructions, they’re useful.”

Another pause.Then she hung up. Finally looked at me.

“You saved a lot of people,” she said simply.

Like it explained everything.

“It’s my job.”

“No,” she corrected. “You saved them.”

There was a difference.

I felt it but I Didn’t like where this was going.

Didn’t—

“And people remember that,” she added.

I exhaled slowly. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“No,” she agreed immediately. “It’s a terrible one.”

Then—

She stepped closer. Close enough that I couldn’t ignore it.

“But I’m not letting you walk into it alone.”

The words landed heavier than they should have. Because there was no hesitation in them. No doubt either.

Just—

Decision.

My grip tightened slightly on the strap of the bag in my hand.

“…why?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Her expression softened. Just a little.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” she said quietly. “You don’t sleep. You don’t stop. You don’t care what they’ve done—you treat them anyway. You save them regardless.”

A beat.

“You take care of everyone,” she finished. “Someone should take care of you, and I've always reminded them.”

Something in my chest shifted. Sharp. Unexpected. I looked away first.

“…don’t make this a thing,” I muttered. The audacity of her! The doctor did it out of kindness, not for ill intentions.... but I can't deny that in this situation, it would really be helpful to not go alone.

A small huff of breath left her.

“Too late.”

~

They came faster than I expected.

One.

Then two.

Then more.

The door opened again and again, footsteps filling the space with a different kind of energy—less controlled than Adrian’s, less quiet, but no less real.

Familiar faces.

Some I recognized from his memories. Some I didn’t.

All of them—

Looking at me.

“You called?” one of them said.

“No,” I replied immediately, glancing at her. “I didn’t.”

“She did,” another said with a grin, nodding toward her. “Told us you were going to do something reckless.”

“That sounds about right,” someone else added.

A quiet ripple of amusement moved through the room.

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

“…what did you do?” I asked her again under my breath.

She shrugged. Too innocently.

“I didn’t do anything,” she said. “I just reminded them.”

“Of what?”

She glanced at the group.

Then back at me.

“Of you.”

That didn’t—

“What does that even mean?”

One of the men stepped forward.

Older.

Rough around the edges.

But steady.

“You patched me up three months ago,” he said. “Didn’t ask questions. Didn’t charge extra. Didn’t turn me away.”

Another voice cut in—

“You stayed up all night for my brother.”

“And you fixed my arm when everyone else said it was done.”

“You don’t pick sides.”

“You don’t hesitate.”

The words overlapped.

Stacked.

Built.

And suddenly—

The room felt different.

Not tense.

Not uncertain.

Something else.

Something I wasn’t used to.

“…so this is us returning the favor,” the first man finished.

My grip loosened slightly.

Just for a second.

I looked at her.

Really looked this time.

“…you did all this?”

She raised a brow.

“You think I just sit around all day?” I can't deny, that I was starting to see her like that.

A beat.

Then—

“…besides,” she added, glancing toward the group, “they like you.”

A quiet snort slipped out from somewhere.

“Even if you act like you don’t like them,” she finished.

That—

That got a small, reluctant reaction out of me.

A breath. Almost a laugh. Almost.

“…this is insane,” I muttered.

“Probably,” she agreed.

Then—

Her expression shifted again. Serious and Focused. Ready.

“But it might work.”

Silence settled. Not empty. Not uncertain.Just—

Waiting.

I exhaled slowly, adjusting the strap over my shoulder.

Then looked back at her. Something new settling in my chest. Not trust. Not fully.

But—

Close. Close enough.

“…fine,” I said.

A beat.

Then, more firmly—

“Then we do this properly.”