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When Bullfrog wakes up he isn't in the chair who was about to send him to his death in front of a live audience, no, instead he's laying on a hard couch that reeks of alcohol and is frankly, very uncomfortable.
"-they got what they deserved. Honestly, they should have seen it coming..." A familiar voice mumbles as they phase around the room.
Bullfrog heaves himself up on his arms, groaning when his head protests painfully against the action.
The footsteps stop and when he blinks up to see who rescued him he's met with Raymond staring back at him, flask in hand and scowl ready. "You-"
"Poster boy."
"Don't call me that. I'm not that anymore."
Bullfrog shifts on the couch, letting his hands rest on his lap and shoulders loosen. An exercise his master had teached him long ago to help him relax. "Who are you then?"
"Ramon." He bites out. "Yeah, Ramon. Not the face on TV. That's not me. I didn't know they were doing that, it wasn't my fault, no..." His voice slips into incoherent mumbles as he seems to drift off to a completely different place.
Bullfrog feels sorry for him.
He hasn't changed out of the clothes he saw him in last. Except now, spotted with far more blood and dishevelled like he had got into a fight. He knows those eyes too well, distant and flickering all over the place. "You have killed someone."
Ramon stratles, like he just realised he is still there.
"Like I said, they got what they deserved."
Bullfrog waits for him to say more. Maybe tell him how he got in that position in the first place. Instead he takes a swig from the bottle, wiping sloppily against his lips.
"Why did you rescue me?"
Ramon's expression draws into something akin to pain. "I don't want to stand by and watch hybrids like you get killed on my own fucking show. Not anymore."
He goes for another swig but Bullfrog shoots his arm out and takes a hold of his wrist. When Ramon gives him a glare Bullfrog tilts his head to the side, smiling. "Why don't you sit beside me, friend."
There's a moment where Ramon regards him, a moment where Bullfrog thinks he might lash out. He doesn't, instead he sighs, falling back on the couch with his head lolling to the side.
Bullfrog exhales, realising only now that he's held his breath. They're not far apart. If he shifted his leg a little to the side they would bump together. He shakes his head, not sure why that matters in the first place.
"We jumped through the window and you hit your head. I had to carry you all the way here. You're very light, you know." He says, tiling his head towards him, eyelocks heavy but damanor considerably more relaxed.
There's blood on his face.
Bullfrog nods as he grabs a hold of the bottom of his robe and tears a piece off with one swift movement. "Ah, I have heard that before, yes. Goes well with being a assassin."
"What are you doing?"
"There is good in cleaning away the blood after a battle. Let me help you." He gestures towards the bottle. "Also, could you give me that?"
Ramon hesitates before handing it over.
Bullfrog dips the cloth into the alcohol, leaning forward to wipe the blood off his cheek but Ramon flinches away, body stiffening. Bullfrog hovers, hesitating. "Uh, it is only going to sting a little, that's a promise."
There were only a few shallow cuts across his cheek and brow, the rest of it likely being the blood of another. The eyebrows crinkle, before Ramon straightens up and turns towards him so they are facing each other completely. "You have weird ways, frog. But fine. It's not like there's anything else to do in this shithole."
Bullfrog chuckles. "Shithole. Is that what you call home?"
"Well nothing in here is mine, really. It belongs to Eden, like every other fucking thing. But sure. Home." His expression warps into a grimace when the cloth reaches his cheek. Bullfrog focuses on it. On how his breath stutters slightly when he swipe up towards his brow and how his hand grips the couch tightly.
"You are not the only one without a home, mon amor." Bullfrog confesses, eyes focusing in on his mouth when he dips down to clean the blood off his jaw, snout? Whatever. He stills momentary, when Ramon's lips part open and reveal… wait– Before he knows what he's doing he pushes the cloth to his upper lip, revealing fangs. "I didn't know you had fangs."
Ramon draws away, stuttering. "Well, I do."
"Ah, that's nice. Charmant…"
There's something curious about the way he didn't seem to mind the touch. Instead of commenting on it however, Bullfrog continues wiping off the rest of the blood in silence.
Eventually, it's Ramon who breaks it. "Is Laserhawk really good? I've heard you speak well of him before."
He stills, the reminder of his many fallen friends flashing through his mind. He really did hope he was still alive out there. "He was a good comrade. My friend... I wish to find him one day."
"Right!" Ramon exclaims and Bullfrog sways away from the suddenness of it all. Ramon doesn't seem to notice, leaning forward and placing a warm hand on his leg. "We'll show those mutherfuckers who have the power. If Laserhawk has survived they can sure as hell not take us down either."
...we?
Bullfrog hums, eyes flicking down to the hand before going up again. "Time can only tell. Justice goes over all."
"Sure." Ramon waves a hand in the air. "What I mean is. It's time to make a change." They lock eyes, his expression suddenly turning serious. "You stand with me, right?"
There is much Bullfrog has been through in his life. Many of his friends have fallen before his eyes, leaving only blood behind. He chooses to fight to honour those he's lost, honour those who fought with him. Bullfrog had begun growing tired of it. Especially after Pey'js death. But now... now, Ramon is looking at him like he's the only hope he has left. The only thing that will make him come through the other side alive. It's risky, he would have to bear yet another life on his shoulders. But maybe, just this once, he could accept it. Just one more time.
Bullfrog extends a hand. "I stand with you."
Ramon's smile grows large, he accepts the handshake with a firm grip. "To the end."
"Sí. To the end."