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Zapp Renfro has much to say about Hellsalem’s Lot. At its core, it’s a noisy, dirty, crowded place. It has shady, narrow streets where it’s easier to end up with a knife to the stomach than find anything proper, or at the very least cheap, to eat. The women are mostly attractive, if nothing else, but never meek - that one he’s learned the hard way. If a tourist asked him to recommend places to visit, the words he’d use wouldn’t be pretty. Then again, it’s not like anything that comes out of his mouth ever really is.
The only redeeming quality of this very literally godforsaken city (though it’s still up for debate who’s forsaken whom in the first place) is that everything ends. And he means it when he says ‘everything’ - emergencies and tragedies of all kinds, quiet days and celebrations, as well as world-ending crises. This particular crisis has ended, too, but it was a much closer call than Zapp has ever imagined. His workday, in contrast, is far from over, which is irritating but by no means unusual.
They’re back at the hospital. Zapp finds it pathetic how everything seems to circle back here, no matter what. The hall is full of patients and doctors rushing somewhere and he’s sure that if they wanted, they could almost blend in anonymously. Doctor Estevez is not one to let them do that, though, because she emerges from the crowd with frightening ease.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she remarks in place of a greeting, her tone as sarcastic as ever. “The shittiest patients in my entire career.”
Mr. Starphase has no reply, which surprises everyone. He stares at the woman with tired, bloodshot eyes and bows his head. Her features don’t soften one bit but she sighs heavily and waves for a group of medics to come assist her. At that, K.K. kneels down and hugs the tiny doctor, which surprises absolutely no one, except maybe the doctor herself, if her squeal is anything to go by.
Zapp has no time to fully acknowledge what is happening - he can only follow the others through the hall as chief and Leo are being promptly admitted, since their wounds are the most severe. It’s a small comfort that they were able to stay conscious until now, even as the group had made a detour to drop Hummer and Brody off at the prison gates. Chief manages to exchange a few quiet words with Mr. Starphase and K.K. and squeezes their hands urgently before the medics surround him completely. Zapp can not make out what was said but he catches sight of K.K. rubbing the skin beneath her eye with the tips of her fingers. He turns away, telling himself that he wants to give her privacy, when in reality he just feels like a coward.
That lone feeling seems to be a sickening norm today.
As the group withdraws slowly, walking back to the main door to let the professionals do their job, Zapp’s stomach churns as if he’s just got off a shitty rollercoaster. They have work to do so he tries his fucking best to suppress it. What’s up with it, anyway? It’s unusual for it to act up like this. He hasn’t eaten anything weird today (or anything at all, which on second thought might be the source of the problem) and he’s not the type to manifest nervousness this way. It usually surfaces as a tingling feeling in his hands, something like a burn or a frostbite, like millions of tiny, numbing needles. That and he’s mostly safe now, all things considered. He can see Chain on his left out of the corner of his eye, while Zed matches his pace on his right. Mr. Starphase and K.K. are just ahead of him. He can see their backs clearly, strong and distinct even in spite of exhaustion.
Their backs.
Zapp’s breath catches in his throat and the sudden realization stops him in his tracks. For a few agonizingly long seconds the world seems to turn without him.
The last time he’d seen their backs, both of them were terribly wounded and ordered him to retreat. Zapp instinctively tried to argue, which on an ordinary day would almost be expected of him, but the look in Mr. Starphase’s eyes told him enough. If he didn’t ultimately listen, they would all have died then. It would have been his fault, the fault of the fact that he was too stubborn and not strong enough. Hell, up until not very long ago he thought that they’d lost Mr. Starphase and K.K. for good. Even his shitty fucking old man of a Master, who he thought to be unbeatable, was sort of wounded in this fight, somehow. Truth be told, in all of Libra’s chaotic history, even considering the entirety of Hellsalem’s Lot supernatural antics, Zapp’s never been this close to losing comrades. The first wave of relief, back when they all regrouped at Zooloody’s, nearly knocked him out. It has receded by now, leaving only a boundless pit of overwhelming guilt. This is not really a thing he is used to feeling but apparently the sight of his superiors’ injured silhouettes shook him to the core.
Mr. Starphase’s words keep echoing in his head, irritatingly clear in spite of how long ago they were said. “Anything can happen so I am relying on you. No matter what, you’ll find a way to manage it, right?”
He might as well have told Zapp to cremate him on the spot.
“Hey, dumbass, try to keep up.”
Chain’s voice snaps him back to reality like a well-aimed punch. It’s only now that he realizes he’s standing still, with the others a few steps ahead and looking at him questioningly. His throat is dry and he’s taking deep breaths, uncharacteristically so, considering the pace at which he’s been walking.
“Zapp? Is something wrong?” K.K.’s voice seems so far away. Zapp opens his mouth but no sound comes out. Moving doesn’t seem like a viable option, either. Something is wrong but knowing that doesn’t help.
Chain is the first to catch on. She rushes back to him and his first thought is that she’s going to hit him for real but he can’t fucking move, he can’t tell her to back off and get a damn doctor or something, he can’t–
She thrusts her hand in his and squeezes hard, almost painfully. Reflexively, he squeezes back. Warmth shoots up his arm as he does.
“Focus,” she says and her tone lacks the usual bite. “You’re safe. I’m real. You’re real.”
Zapp’s head feels unbelievably heavy but he turns to look at her. She doesn’t appear casually translucent, not like she could disappear any damn second, as he is used to seeing her when they’re carrying out one crazy task after another. In fact, she looks - and feels - the most solid that he’s ever witnessed her in all the years they’ve known each other. She’s not just in his peripheral vision anymore. He can feel the cuts on her skin, all of the blood and grime and dust she’s been through since this whole mess started. It’s a rough, uncomfortable sensation. It’s reality.
Zapp’s breathing evens out and the tension slowly seeps out of his body. Exhaustion finally catches up to him and he feels himself swaying but before he can keel over, a different, bigger, slightly less human hand clasps his right forearm, steadying him.
“Do you need to sit down?,” Zed asks quietly when Zapp finally makes eye contact with him. It’s a simple question, a matter of ‘yes’ or ‘no’.
“I don’t know,” he finally admits and it’s all the reason Zed and Chain need to lead him to a row of chairs lined up by the wall. They don’t seem too eager to let go of him, though, even when they all ultimately sit. Chain’s hand, still closed around his own, seems to be trembling. Zed’s fingertips have moved up and are now tapping a steady rhythm on his bicep. Zapp, both aware of these facts and somehow unable to understand their meaning, instead concentrates on the tips of his shoes, on the filth clouding their once stark whiteness. It could be a metaphor for something, he’s sure of that, but he’s never been much of a poet.
He feels like shit. There, that’s a metaphor. He’s been sitting down for mere seconds and it already feels like it’s been too long. His leg starts bouncing up and down involuntarily. He has to do something. That feeling will never go away, won’t it? There’s always something, that’s another one of this city’s stupid rules.
“You kids sure are stubborn, huh.”
It takes Zapp a moment to realize that it’s K.K. speaking, and that she’s kneeled down in front of him at some point. Her eye is a bit puffy but she smiles gently, less like a sniper and more like a mother, looking between the three of them.
“It’s okay to confide in your seniors once in a while, you know?,” she continues and there’s a crack in her voice that she masks with a cough. Badly, seeing as even Zapp takes notice of it. She seems just as restless as he feels, which is a lot.
“What do you mean, I’m fi–,” Zapp doesn’t get to finish that sentence because he’s immediately shushed by four voices. That’s when he realizes that Mr. Starphase has joined this pitiful little gathering too. He looks up at the man and recognizes the look in his eyes as disappointment all too well. Figures.
“Zapp, I told you I was relying on you.”
His voice is leveled and Zapp tenses up, as if bracing his entire being for the upcoming lecture. Unexpectedly, the words he hears next are quieter.
“That does in no way mean you have to shoulder everything alone.”
“Huh?” Zapp blinks incredulously a few times. He’s pretty sure that his jaw is hanging open, too, but he’s too dumbstruck to do anything about it. Mr. Starphase’s features relax a bit and he makes brief eye contact with K.K., who gives him a slight nod.
“I’m relying on all of you, and in turn, you can always rely on me, and on each other, too.” Having said that, Mr. Starphase crouches down beside K.K. “That is how a team should work. Please keep that in mind.”
K.K. snorts. “That’s rich, coming from you. Unfortunately, I have to agree.”
Mr. Starphase grimaces in response. “You could’ve just agreed, it’s rather easy.”
That’s when it strikes Zapp - it’s not disappointment he sees in the man’s eyes. It’s regret, it’s guilt, and it’s directed inward. It’s the very same thing he’s trying to suppress and bury deep within his heart. To suddenly become aware of this, especially now, is entirely too much for Zapp.
“I can rather easily push you over, Scarface.” To emphasize, K.K. raises her hand.
“Please don’t.”
“I’m not going to retreat next time.” Zapp’s voice is barely above a whisper and yet it turns all four heads towards him. He almost can't find the strength to withstand his teammates’ gazes. “I’m going to… become stronger…”
It’s jarring, really, how easily tears that did not exist just a second ago spill from his eyes. It’s like he’s five years old again and has just violently scraped his knee, trying to get into one of many places he shouldn’t ever be in. It’s somewhat of a recurring pattern in his life, the fact that he gets himself in trouble on his own accord.
Except that whatever he does now, could impact the world.
K.K. rises from the floor in the blink of an eye and hugs him softly, letting him hide his face in the fabric of her coat. “It’s okay, Zapp,” she whispers, placing slender fingers at the back of his head. “Just breathe for now.”
Zapp’s distantly aware of the fact that Zed carefully rests his head on his shoulder. Chain’s thumb begins gently stroking the back of his hand. For a while the only sound that can be heard, aside from the hospital’s usual ambience, is quiet sniffling.
He doesn’t know how long it’s taken for him to calm down. K.K. waits a moment to make sure he’s truly stopped crying (“God, she-bitch’s never gonna let me live this down,” Zapp thinks bitterly) before she backs away. Her eye’s even puffier than before, not to mention red, so they must make a good match right now.
“We should probably get going,” Zapp says, voice hoarse and small. K.K. sighs while Chain just elbows him in the side. He returns the gesture half-heartedly.
“Is this what people call ‘emotionally constipated’?,” Zed asks, jostled from his apparently comfortable position.
“Oh, I’ll constipate you, fishface–”
Chain slaps her other hand on his mouth before he can say any more and he has to resist the urge to bite it. That would be a low blow, even for him.
“The city can wait a little bit more,” K.K. says, side-eyeing Mr. Starphase, who just shrugs.
“I’m sure the HLPD has got most of the mess under control.” He’s probably the only one who can make this particular statement sound convincing. Chain hums contemplatively and lowers her hand. Zapp sticks out his tongue.
“So!” K.K. claps her hands, out of nowhere brimming with positive energy. “Where do you guys want to eat? Scarface is paying!”
“Wait, what? I did not–”
“Dianne’s,” three voices answer in perfect sync. Zapp looks at Chain and Zed in surprise to make sure he’s heard them right but they seem absolutely certain. It’s not often that they all agree on something like this; it makes him feel unexpectedly warm inside. Or maybe it’s just the comforting thought of food. He honestly doesn’t care, as long as it gets him out of that shitty state of mind.
“We should get something for Leo and Mr. Klaus, too. I hope Vivian and her father are alright…” Zed muses, suddenly sounding unsure.
“Eh, they’re probably feeding everyone on the street already, let’s go!,” Zapp exclaims and gets up, pulling up the other two to stand as well. Chain stumbles with a startled sound and Mr. Starphase steadies her with a hand on her shoulder. She goes red in the face and thanks him quietly, hurrying off to K.K.’s side, who’s already walking out of the building with an arm around Zed’s shoulders. Zapp smirks and moves to follow them.
“Zapp.”
He turns to see Mr. Starphase looking at him with an expression that can only be described as ambiguous.
“What is it?,” Zapp asks, anxiety rekindling in the pit of his stomach. Did he do something to displease him, after all?
Mr. Starphase raises a hand and slowly places it on Zapp’s shoulder. He lets it rest like this for a few seconds before he speaks.
“Good job today.”
And with that, he turns and walks towards the exit.
“C’mon, Zapp, hurry!,” K.K. calls out. Zapp runs to catch up with them, his face just as red as Chain’s.
Everything ends in Hellsalem’s Lot. He can only hope that this one thing will last.