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Cassian was already in a bad mood.
He’d barely made it three steps past the alley when something cold and viscous crashed over him from above. A sharp chemical sting hit his nose as glass shattered at his feet. Whatever it was- half-dissolved sludge, glowing faintly blue- soaked straight through his clothes.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
From an open window several floors up, a villain’s voice shouted something about “failed experiments” before slamming the window shut.
Cassian wiped his face, blinking the liquid out of his eyes. His jaw tightened, irritation coiling low in his chest. He didn’t bother re-transforming. Not here. Not in the open. Walking through town dripping with unstable science garbage wasn’t exactly subtle, but picking a fight right now would only slow him down.
He turned and headed straight for the Vilzone.
The chemical stink followed him like a cloud. Cold. Sticky. Faintly luminescent. His jacket clung uncomfortably, heavy with liquid, and his shirt felt like it had been soaked in oil.
Annoying. Nothing more.
At least, that’s what he thought.
He was halfway down the Vilzone corridor when he noticed the looks.
People weren’t staring the way they usually did when he passed- no fear, no hostility, no challenge. Just sudden stillness. Conversations dying mid-sentence. Eyes flicking toward him, then snapping away too late to pretend they hadn’t been looking.
Cassian frowned, but kept walking.
He didn’t have time for this. He just needed a room. Five minutes. Then he’d deal with whoever thought dumping chemical waste was funny.
He turned the corner toward Driver’s usual workspace-
-and stopped.
Driver stood there, mid-step, tablet tucked under one arm. His expression shifted the moment he saw Cassian. A familiar, easy smile started to form out of habit… then stalled halfway.
The smile drooped. His brows drew together beneath the goggles.
He stared.
Too long.
Cassian felt it- felt the weight of it- before he understood why.
Silence stretched.
“…What,” Cassian said flatly.
Driver didn’t answer right away. His gaze drifted, slow and clearly unintentional, tracking down before snapping back up as if he’d just realized what he was doing. He tilted his head, lips pursed, the look he got when something didn’t line up with the numbers in his head.
“…That’s weird,” Driver muttered.
Cassian’s patience thinned instantly. “What is.”
Driver lifted his goggles slightly, squinting like adjusting the lenses might correct reality itself.
“Either my goggles are malfunctioning,” he said carefully, “or your clothes are.”
Cassian blinked once. “…My clothes are what.”
Before Driver could elaborate, footsteps echoed from the side corridor.
Red Eye appeared, already mid-sentence about something- then cut himself off the moment he saw Cassian.
He stopped.
Stared.
His brows jumped up just a fraction before he cleared his throat, turned on his heel, and walked away without a word.
Cassian watched him go, incredulous.
“…What was that about,” he muttered.
Driver followed Red Eye with his eyes, then nodded slowly, like a scientist confirming a hypothesis.
“Okay,” he said. “So it’s not the goggles.”
Cassian looked down.
The chemical-soaked fabric clung to him like a second skin- too closely. His jacket, his shirt… translucent. Not gone. Not torn. Just clear enough that the problem was immediately, painfully obvious.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me,” Cassian muttered.
Behind the goggles, Driver’s eyes flickered with something dangerously close to amusement.
Cassian snapped his head up. “Don’t.”
Driver lifted both hands instantly. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was thinking,” Driver corrected, voice mild, deliberately keeping his gaze locked on Cassian’s face now. “Which is still allowed. Last I checked.”
Cassian exhaled sharply through his nose. “Some idiot dumped failed experiments on me from a window.”
That earned a laugh—short, surprised, genuinely amused before Driver could stop himself.
“Of course they did,” Driver said. “That explains the transparency. And the smell.”
Cassian shot him a look. “You’re enjoying this.”
“I’m appreciating the irony,” Driver replied. “You usually try very hard not to draw attention.”
Cassian turned toward the nearest private room. “I was going to transform before anyone else-”
He paused.
Slowly, he glanced back.
“…You’re staring again.”
Driver blinked, caught mid-thought. His gaze had drifted without him realizing it, pulled down by instinct more than intent.
“Ah.” He adjusted his goggles quickly. “Right. Sorry. Visual anomaly.”
Cassian stared at him for a long second, then deadpanned, “Eyes up here.”
Driver’s mouth twitched. “I noticed.”
Cassian raised a brow.
Driver cleared his throat and stepped back, giving Cassian space with exaggerated politeness. “Room’s yours. I’ll… stand guard. Make sure no one else gets a surprise.”
Cassian hesitated, hand on the door. “…You’re not telling anyone.”
Driver placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Cassian, please. I value my life.”
That earned a huff of reluctant amusement.
Cassian slipped inside and shut the door, locking it behind him. On the other side, Driver leaned against the wall, goggles pushed up, replaying the moment whether he wanted to or not.
He shook his head once.
“…Definitely not the goggles,” he muttered.
Inside the room, Cassian transformed quickly, irritation slowly giving way to something else- something uncomfortably warm that he very deliberately ignored.
When he stepped back out, fully transformed and properly clothed, Driver straightened immediately.
“Better?” Driver asked.
Cassian nodded. “…Don’t get used to it.”
Driver smiled- easy again, but softer than before.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The hallway returned to normal. The tension didn’t.