Chapter Text
Dragging their feet across the concrete, Phoenix slowly makes their way down the sidewalk. The loud sounds of the cars beeping and rushing past them made their head hurt even more. People give them weird looks and glances as they pass, confused by their disheveled appearance. Their hair matted and dirty from the water, their clothes all messed up and their face…well, looking like their face.
They keep their head down, knowing at this point the majority of their makeup has been rubbed away. They first started wearing their foundation after the Death Engine, using it to keep their life a secret for as long as possible, and to cover up their own insecurities. It got even worse after the Peace Summit, just because they survived doesn’t mean they came out of it ok. Their whole face and body were covered in scars, something that made it hard for them to look in the mirror, let alone stomach the idea of people looking at them. They’re just glad their suit and gloves cover the majority of their skin, even with all the holes and rips in them. It saved them the work of trying to cover everything up.
They almost walk right past the agency building, their eyes too focused on the ground. It was also very easy to miss, disguised as some bland office building. Shoving themselves through the doors they stumble their way into the main lobby, still looking like a normal office. The receptionist looks up at them, not even doing a double take as she immediately just stares at them with concern. She watches as they move past her, walking through the door behind the desk. She doesn’t question or stop them from going, but Phoenix didn’t know if it was because she could tell they were an agent by looking at them or if she actually recognized them.
It was weird, they hadn’t had that many in office interactions with other agents ever since the Death Engine, but from what they’ve seen and heard, the rest of the agents seem to have very little knowledge of who “Agent Phoenix” really is. Everybody knows about them, but nobody actually knows who they are. They weren’t that upset about it, they didn’t care much about the fame or anything, but sometimes it was disheartening seeing how they’ve done all these things for the agency and the world, just for no one to say anything.
Walking down the hall they support themselves against the wall, their legs wanting to collapse knowing they were so close to finally being able to sit down and relax. Other agents walked past them now, looking at them the same way the randoms on the street did. You’d think they would get used to seeing people walk around the halls, leaving a trail of blood behind them. Guess not. They made it to the end of the hallway and stopped in their tracks, staring dead ahead of them at the elevator standing in their way. Turning their head, they noticed the staircase right next to the elevator. While they would prefer the stairs so much more, they knew their legs wouldn’t be able to physically handle going up the five flights of stairs.
Groaning, they step forward and press the call button, tensing as they hear the ding and the doors open. Once inside they press the fifth floor and push up against the back wall. Bracing their hands on their bent knees, they squeeze their eyes shut. As the elevator starts to move, they tense up even more as they try to distract themselves with literally anything other than what their brain is focusing on. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like hours before the elevator finally reached the fifth floor and the doors opened.
Stumbling out, Phoenix tries their best to stabilize themselves on the now solid ground. Shaking, they keep trudging on through the hallway. As they got closer to his door, they started to wonder how their Handler would react to finally seeing them again. He was so happy just to know they were alive and talk to them, imagine how ecstatic he would be now that they’re finally here. Then again, he’s probably going to be upset at the state they’re in.
It’s not even just how scuffed up they got on their trip back, now he would see how fucked up they actually were from the Peace Summit. He would certainly be mad that they didn’t say anything and went on missions while they were still hurt, but what were they supposed to do? There was already a mission planned for them, one that seemed urgent at the time. And with how happy he was to finally get them back; they didn’t want him to lose them again while they were in the hospital. But in reality, they were fine, well…fine enough anyways. As much as they’d want to push down their injuries, there was no way they’d be able to pretend their body hasn’t been hurting like shit now.
Phoenix finally stops in front of their Handler’s office. They hesitate for a moment, before firmly knocking on the door. They can hear him shuffling around inside as he likely gets up from his desk. He’s mumbling something as he gets to the door and opens it.
“What do-” He opens the door and cuts himself off when his eyes lock on them. He quickly goes from stunned shock to ecstatic joy as he processes who's standing in front of them. “Phoenix!” Their Handler lurches forward, grasping them in a tight hug. One he quickly lets go of at their grunt of pain.
“Ah, I’m sorry! Here, come inside” He quickly ushers them inside his office, closing the door behind them. Phoenix holds onto him for balance as he walks them to the couch pushed against the wall. Falling down onto it, they close their eyes and rest their head on the back of the couch, hoping to calm the pounding in their temples. They slip their suit jacket up and toss away their tie. Being in a suit on the job is all fun and games until you’re stuck in it for a week.
“Ok, wait there for a moment. Let me see if I can find my first aid kit…” He trails off as he presumably starts looking, Phoenix not bothering to open their eyes yet. Even hearing his voice again was making them feel better. Not physically, they still felt like shit, but it comforted them at least. He always did, considering he’s the only real person they ever talk to. No family, no friends, their Handler was pretty much all Phoenix had. They hear him walk towards them, and they can feel him set down the kit he found next to them on the couch. He opens it up and rolls up their sleeve. They twitch when he starts to clean up their wounds.
“So…What happened once we lost contact?” Handler asks quietly. Phoenix takes a deep breath, preparing themselves to talk after being silent for almost a week.
“I just started heading home,” Their voice was raspy. “Switched between walking and getting rides whenever I could find enough money to pay for it. Although drivers aren’t too happy if you bleed all over their car.” They hiss as he hits a particularly large gash in their arm. He was gentle as he wrapped them up in bandages and gauze, not wanting to hurt them anymore. He unbuttons their shirt, now covered in blood and dirt.
“These wounds…” He says, staring down at the partially healed slashes on their torso. “Did you get these from project KBOOM too?” They pause.
“No,” Phoenix says with a sigh. They knew they couldn't lie to him, even if they really wanted to.
“What are they from then?” They finally open their eyes and look at him, but still not making eye contact.
“...The Peace Summit…” His eyes immediately widened in shock. “Yes, yes, I know. Before you go on your rant, I know I should have told you”
“So then why didn’t you?!”
“Because…” They didn’t want to tell him the real reason why. They were embarrassed to admit it, not wanting to seem like some sort of emotional sap. He knew them better than anybody, but even he knew they still hid some of their emotions. “Because I didn’t want to leave you again… or… I didn’t want to make you wait any longer.” He paused. “You were so excited when I came back. You were so excited to go back on a new mission like we used to… I didn’t have the heart to tell you no. And I know it wouldn’t have even been that long but… I mean… I was excited too.” They still couldn’t meet his eyes. “After everything I just… I missed you, ok? I just wanted things to be back to the way they used to be…”
Handler doesn’t say anything, which Phoenix is sort of glad for. They don’t really want to know how he’s going to react to what they just said, and they don’t know what they’d do if he did say anything. But he didn’t, instead he just grabs them and pulls them into a tight hug. They don’t try to hide it anymore, Phoenix just starts crying into his shoulder. They sit there for a while, getting everything out that they’ve been suppressing for months. Even when they stop crying, they still just sit there, forgetting all about their wounds. Well, Phoenix does, anyways.
“We should probably get you some serious medical help.”