Chapter Text
16 months ago…
This had been the craziest week of Bob's life.
And he thought Malaysia had been a trip.
Then he had to wake up in a vault set to blow, get superpowers, and now, despite nearly losing himself to his 'dark' side (as he was told), he was rolling with the New Avengers.
Like previously said: crazy.
Bob poked his head out of his room (huge, by the way. And really clean), and hollered out a "Hello?"
It echoed in the expansive corridor.
After living here for a couple days, Bob realized pretty quickly that chaos was common. Whether it was Alexei's loud singing or Ava and Walker bickering over one thing or another, there was always something going on.
Which made the silence extra eerie.
He shrugged on a robe over his t-shirt and pajama pants before investigating.
Yelena's room was down the hall, but it didn't sound like anyone was pattering in there.
He checked downstairs next. No one was in the kitchen or living area. Weird.
Bob ran a hand through his hair, puffing out a sigh. Should he be worried? He tried to pat at his pockets only to belatedly remember that he has no phone or any of his new friends' numbers.
There hadn't been a need it seemed, as they were getting used to living here, each other, and they were always around anyway- as promised by Yelena.
There were other places he could check, but he just wasn't sure if he could.
He stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone in this building probably looked at him like some kind of freak.
Bob had seen the footage and read the files. He knew what he was, even if he didn't remember exactly.
Still, it must have been some risk to keep him here. Access to his powers or not.
He was starting to get antsy not having anyone here to talk to. He may still be trying to find his footing in this group, especially with Walker, who gets on his nerves, and Bucky, who Bob was still getting to know, but Yelena was right.
Not being alone helped. A lot.
Standing in the living room, at a loss, the elevator ding-ed, signaling an arrival. He whirled around, hoping for a familiar face.
A woman strode in, bearing a binder in one hand and a phone in the other, and was tapping away at her device. She raised her head, and when she saw Bob, all color left her face.
Bob coughed, wrapping his robe around him tightly, self-conscious, "Er-"
"S-Sorry" she squeaked.
Tongue-tied, Bob just kept making what he hoped were apologetic noises, not expecting anyone, especially a tower employee, in the residential part of the Watchtower. Bob was assured that Valentina wasn't allowed up here.
The woman didn't look like a tech. She was dressed too fancy for that, so she must be important. That face though…
Bob blinked. She was familiar. But where from?
The woman shuffled backwards towards the elevator, sliding across one of the ridges of the black tile and tripping. The binder fell from her grip, scattering papers across the floor.
She cursed, dropping to her knees to gather them up.
Bob hurried over, "Shit, do you need-?"
"No" she tersely replied, clutching leaflets to her chest, "I-I'm fine."
He snapped his outstretched hand back, not missing the way her body was angled away from him, eyes cast downwards.
Bob could have turned tail right then. He knew when he wasn't wanted. But his bare foot made contact with a sheet of paper while backtracking.
He kicked his heel back, the paper still clinging to him until he peeled it off.
Coughing awkwardly, he extended it to the woman, ensuring his distance. That was when she finally looked up. It was a quick glance before she accepted the piece of paper without so much as a thanks.
Right.
With that, Bob didn't know what to do, and he just scurried to the kitchen to leave her be.
He tried to make himself a snack, pour himself some water, but his ears honed in on the woman in the other room doing whatever business she was supposed to do.
Curious, he angled his head to peer into the dining area, where she was laying out some papers on the table, positioning them before the chairs. It looked important.
He wasn't going to say anything, but if this woman was here on business then she must know things.
"Wh-where is everyone?" he timidly asked.
The question startled her, and Bob scolded himself for scaring her again. From here, her back to his, Bob watched her body tense before composing herself.
"First group mission" she explained.
"Right" He must have overslept and didn't hear them getting ready. He tapped his fingers against the entryway, a nervous tic, "You… work for Valentina?"
The woman rounded so Bob could see her face work into mild confusion.
"Yes. I do" she stated, like it was obvious.
Illuminated by the daylight streaming through the windows, Bob got an even better look at her, a nugget of a memory tickling the back of his mind.
"You were there when I woke up, right?"
Bob recalled waking up in that golden chamber they had built in the Watchtower. Valentina had sent for someone to get preparations made for the Sentry makeover. She had led the stylists and scientists into that makeshift room.
She had been as smartly dressed as she was now, which was how Bob picked her out from the sea of people he had interacted with that day. The only one other than Valentina who oversaw the room.
The woman nodded.
"I'm sorry, I'm bad with names" Bob wasn't sure if he had heard it before in passing, "I still call Walker 'Walter' sometimes."
She seemed to hesitate before giving out her name.
"Mel"
He pointed to himself, "Bob. But, uh, you already know that."
"I do"
They stared at each other for a bit. Bob offered up a shy wave, but she didn't return it. She was… a bit squirrely, he noticed. Not really up for a chat.
"What's, uh, this for?"
She gestured to the table, "I was supposed to get the boardroom ready. But they're still doing renovations, so I thought, why not here? It'd be for when, er, the team comes back. For the debrief."
Bob nodded slowly, "Makes sense."
"It's only temporary"
"Gotcha"
Maybe this wasn't his place, but Bob dared to ask. But given her weird behavior, he just had to know.
"Are you ok?"
Mel was thrown off by the question, "Y-Yeah. Why, uh, wouldn't I be?"
Bob shrugged, "Valentina can be a lot, can she?"
"Oh" she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her shoulders loosening, "Not really. She's alright…when she's, you know, not around."
The corners of his lips twitched, "Only then?"
"That was- I mean," Mel sighed, "I'm used to it, I guess."
Bob had only met Valentina a handful of times, and he thought it was a handful too many. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be up close and personal with her day in and day out.
He shouldn't keep interrupting.
"I'll, uh, let you get back to it"
He didn't want to get her in trouble, but something told him it wasn't the possibility of Val's wrath that got Mel worked up.
Some more time had passed, and Bob was learning more about how this arrangement worked.
He got the shock of his life when Yelena dropped a newspaper in front of him one morning and his face was staring right back at him.
'WHO IS BOB?'
Apparently, no one could know who he really was or why he was there. Yelena had explained that he didn't need to do anything. He was living with them because she wanted to look out for him. Which was sweet.
But he wasn't just some random guy. He could do something to help. If he only knew how.
The team had cautioned him about what might happen if he used powers. 1) Valentina would try to weaponize him 2) Void could possibly come out 3) people would be coming for him.
The last two had him worried. He wondered who would come after him, but that came with the 'superhero' territory he supposed.
It had been a slip up from Alexei, a story that included their good friend 'Bob' back at the tower, and thankfully that was all the public knew. The CIA, O.X.E, and the team would like to keep it that way.
At Bucky's insistence, Bob was in the training center for a gym session, struggling to do a pushup when Mel came around.
He collapsed onto the mat and rolled over. Even though he was sweaty, he refrained from using his shirt to wipe his face.
Mel, in a button up and dress pants, stood forebodingly with a folder.
Bob nodded at her, "Hi"
He wasn't sure what to make of Mel still.
He would see her every now and then, almost always attached to Valentina but always shifty-eyed and fidgety when they would be remotely in each other's orbit.
At first, Bob chalked it up to the proximity to her boss, but no. From afar, he had observed how Mel was with the others. There was still a wall, of course. She was treating them with professionalism, but she wasn't…
Scared.
There was no other explanation. She was afraid of him.
Bob wasn't here to cause problems, and so, to put Mel at ease, he tried to make himself scarce whenever she was around. Which was not too hard. He wasn't involved in New Avengers business.
"Bucky told me where to find you. Here"
Forced to wipe his sweaty hands against his t-shirt, he took the folder.
He flipped through it, "What's this?"
"Your new paperwork. Did Yelena tell you?"
"Yeah, she did"
A birth certificate, driver's license, school records- all under a different name.
"So, I'm not Robert Reynolds anymore" he double checked.
It wasn't going to stop the team from referring him as Bob. The press already thought it was a fake name anyway.
"We can't risk having people connect you to the Sentry Project"
Bob stood up, perusing through his newly manufactured life.
Mel must have sensed his pensive silence, "It's a lot, but-"
"No, no. This is good. Smart. It's just…" he closed the folder, "…not having my dad's name. I mean, don't get me wrong, my name has a ring to it, but-"
"It carries a lot" Mel finished for him, surprising the both of them. She averted her eyes, "Many people get to do whatever they wanted with the family name before you get stuck with it."
"Yeah" he looked at her, "It'd be a shame. Since I come from a long line of well adjusted people and all."
A snort escaped, and Mel's eyes widened. Covering her mouth, she apologized for her misstep, "I don't know why I laughed at that-"
Bob capitalized on that reaction. The crack in the armor, "It's ok, my life is hilarious."
"No" Mel shook it off, reverting to her serious state, "I'll stop. It is… not funny."
It kinda was.
"What's your last name?" he inquired.
"Gold"
"Mel Gold"
"It's not really my surname"
"I figured"
Mel raised a brow.
Bob's eyes grew, face warm, "Not like. Not to assume or anything-"
"Easy there. You're good" she decided to put him out of his misery, "My actual name is Indian. Dad's side. I changed it not because I was ashamed or anything, I just wanted-" she stopped short, the most she had revealed about herself in his company.
Maybe the most syllables she had spoken to him ever.
There was weight there, in her speech about family names, like she knew how he felt. About having a lot to carry.
"You don't have to tell me" he offered.
There was a pause, which was her giving it some thought. Possibly gauging whether or not to continue.
"I wanted a new life," was her explanation, "A fresh start"
"So it's possible then"
Mel made a face, "Can't say all my baggage was cleared, but it's nice. To be away from people who think they know you. And you start to figure out who you are"
"Do you know then? Who you are?"
"I'm…" she checked her phone, "the girl who's late to pick up Alexei's dry cleaning."
Bob could admit where he overstepped and didn't push further. He was just curious. Like, if she got to make a new life for herself, then maybe Bob could too.
"Right," he held up the folder, "Thanks."
Thanks for talking to me, he wanted to say, feeling the knot in his stomach coming undone with this pleasant outcome of their interaction this time. Even getting to learn more about the Watchtower's top assistant.
Mel nodded and walked out of the room.
There was a TV in his room.
Bob had made great use of it. They had every subscription and viewing option readily available, but Bob found himself wanting to get a DVD player.
On one of his few trips outside the tower, Bob explored more of the city (making sure he was well disguised and lowkey) and bought one from a thrift store.
Call him nostalgic, but he missed his DVDs, the ones that were probably sitting in a box collecting dust in his mom's house. He had played with the idea of starting a new collection whenever he got a place, but that never panned out with how often he had been kicked out of many of apartments, halfway houses, you name it.
For some reason, hanging out with the team more and feeling more settled than he ever had in his life, he felt like this was going to stick. At least for a while. And now with all this pocket change, he could try out what it would be like. To possessions again and have a place to put them.
While there at the thrift store, he combed through the shelves of $3 dollar DVDs and he found a battered copy of Brothers Bloom.
He had done a double take because what? No way one of his favorite movies was sitting here for him to find.
He had even gone on coked up rants about this movie, most people he knew haven't heard about it. Sure, Rian Johnson was a big name now, but Bob had been a fan of his earlier stuff- this movie in particular.
Calling it fate or whatever, he bought it.
Hauling the player and DVD into the tower got some looks from passerbys, even Ava took one glance at it and ribbed that not even Bucky used the archaic device. He didn't care.
He set it down in the living room for a quick second while he grabbed a water for himself. Returning to lug his belongings to his room, Bob encountered Mel and Bucky conversing about damage reports.
They were just finishing up when Mel turned to leave and gasped.
"Is that-?" she beelined for the DVD sitting on the coffee table. She picked it up, eyes alight, "No way."
Bob choked on his water.
"You know-" he coughed, dislodging the water in his throat, "Brothers Bloom?"
"I have a brain. A soul, so yes?" she spoke excitedly, "This is, like, one of my favorites."
Bob couldn't believe what he was hearing, "No, it isn't"
Mel was dead serious, "Try Top 4 on my Letterboxd."
"I saw it while out and couldn't pass it up" he relayed.
"I would have bought it too," Mel handed him back the DVD, embarrassed that she had taken it in the first place, "You have good taste."
"Thanks"
"Hey Bob!" Yelena called from the kitchen, "Help me with dinner!"
"Macaroni again?" he yelled back.
"You say like it's a bad thing!"
Bob rolled his eyes and had to set Brothers Bloom back down on the table, giving Mel a friendly smile on the way out.
Huh. What were the odds?
"What do you think of Brick?"
Bob looked up from his book.
There was a lot of chatter around him, since it was mission control and all. The team and Valentina were having some strategy meeting ahead of an important recon. Bob had been half paying attention and learned to tune out the conversation, just content being nearby.
But this time, this question was directed at him.
Mel had broken away from the fold and slowly approached him.
At the mention of another Rian Johnson classic, Bob pursed his lips.
"Best noir film of the 2000's" was his consensus.
"Over Sin City?" Mel challenged.
"You think it gets points for being in black and white?"
"I think it gets points for making every frame a compositional masterpiece. It leans into the cheese," Mel let out a small smile, "I like Brick too."
"I dunno. Maybe because it feels more grounded. Real," he said.
Bob had dealt with the kind of kids like those that were in that movie. All too grown up getting involved with drug kingpins but too childish to not act on their emotions. Reckless.
"I get that, but I think you like Rian Johnson too much"
"Says no one ever"
"Says me, and I think he's fantastic,"
A beat of silence passed through them.
"Old Boy's neo-noir too, you know?"
"Ok, best 2000's neo-noir film from the U.S" Bob corrected.
Mel smiled even wider, "There you go."
Bob laughed, didn't expect to be talking movies with Mel of all people.
Yelena couldn't sit through the duration of a film. Bucky was still playing catch up. So was Ava. And Walker had said his favorite film was Lone Star, which, ok, valid. But Bob wasn't that into Westerns.
"I didn't peg you as a cinephile" Mel admitted.
"I'm tough to peg" Bob's face curled into a grimace, "Wait, that sounds- no, that's wrong."
Mel stifled a chuckle, "No, no, I get the metaphor."
"I think it's mysteries that do it for me," Bob surmised his love for movies, "Books too."
"How come?"
He shrugged, "Because the answers were right there. The whole time. Just need to know where to look. Er, how to look."
"Do you?"
"Nah" he rubbed his eyes, "Still slow. I find out everything in the end." That didn't make it any less fun for Bob though.
"Kinda like real life,"
Then, Mel let out a 'huh',
"Maybe that's what Kierkegaard meant. Understanding life backwards."
"Who?"
"Never mind," she waved it off, "We don't understand why a lot of things happen only until after they happen."
"Seems like it"
"We need to round up the techs and get a visual sweep of the area, and Mel? Mel!" Behind them, Valentina snapped her fingers, "What are you doing? Can you do your job, please? Thank you."
Mel let out a deep sigh, and Bob frowned, almost glaring at Valentina.
"Duty calls," she whispered.
He watched her jump back into the chaos, taking Valentina's shit with ceaseless demands, a growing pit in his stomach.
It wasn't just Valentina.
Bob kicked himself for not recognizing it sooner, but the rest of the team just kind of write Mel off as the one who was always there to serve.
He would overhear them ask her to run errands, not caring that one of their other teammates had already instructed her to do something else already, her taskload ever growing.
It was like ever since Bob started talking to her, just a little bit here and there and always about movies, he was noticing her more and more.
It had been a couple months living at the Watchtower, and as much as Bob really liked these guys, he couldn't ignore the way they keep Mel at bay, even when he could see how much she does for them.
And yeah, that made Bob feel even shittier in comparison. He didn't have to lift a finger to earn his keep here, he was sitting comfortable while people like Mel and other employees were working tirelessly to run everything.
It really did feel like he was the only in the tower not contributing to shit.
(His court-appointed therapist had tried to convince him that being himself was enough for everyone. Give him a fucking break.)
"Alright, we're gonna be here a while," Walker clapped his hands, jerking everyone's heads up, "I say let's order some food."
They were all gathered around the conference table, running pre-mission checks before tomorrow. Bob joined in everyone's whoops of enthusiasm.
"Yes, I'm starving!" Yelena snatched the tower tablet off the table, "Thai. From that one place in Chelsea?"
"Pad thai, for me" Bucky piped up, and so did a few others.
Yelena went down the line, cataloguing everyone's orders (and getting particularly annoyed at her father's continuous listing of foods).
"And you, Bob?"
"Garlic noodles," Then a bright idea hit him, "Actually, could I also get pad thai too."
Alexei clapped him on the shoulder, "That's the spirit. You must eat! Get strong! Then maybe you will control your powers once more!"
"Yes, Sentry will magically come around through the power of Thai food," Ava snarked.
Nevertheless, Yelena put the order in and waited.
Bob had offered to grab it the second it was delivered. A half box of food was waiting for him at reception a good 30 minutes later.
Telling by the exasperated look on the receptionist, it must have taken quite a bit to shoo the delivery person. They tended to linger to hopefully catch a glimpse of an Avenger or two.
Riding the elevator back up, Bob punched the button for Mel's office floor. Well, technically Valentina's office floor.
Tiptoeing out, he risked a glance at Valentina's door. It appeared empty, and he veered the opposite direction, locating Mel's office. It was empty as well, but her laptop was open and still powered on. There were piles of files and sticky notes sprinkled across the walls.
She must have stepped out for a second.
He found the pad thai and carefully laid it out on her desk, ensuring he wasn't covering up anything important, and hoofed it out of there.
Bob was back in mission control, divvying up the food and setting up shop at his seat.
A couple bites in, Yelena peered over at him. She tapped her chopsticks at him, "Hey, where's your pad thai?"
Bob twirled the noodles with his fork, "Wasn't mine."
"What?"
He swept over the group with a probing stare, "You guys aren't the only ones working late, you know?"
The group shared a silent look.
They didn't comment on it. Bob didn't expect them to, but at least he got them thinking about it.
That was a start.
Bob didn't get to hear about what came out of his good deed until several weeks later.
He couldn't sleep.
One of those nights where it felt like the voices in his head were louder than usual.
It was another rare night were the entire common area was cleared out, so he had the big TV to himself in the living room. He could have watched this in his room, but he wanted to be near the kitchen for snack purposes.
He had convinced everyone to get another DVD player for the living room TV, and so another Brothers Bloom rewatch it was. He probably hadn't seen it since the first day he acquired it from the thrift shop. He did need to get more DVDs.
Popping a chip in his mouth, he heard the elevator bell go off and the hiss of the doors opening.
Bob didn't even look, calmly finishing scarfing down his snack just as someone settled on the couch next to him.
"Can I watch with you?" Mel asked, voice small.
Her hair was down but still in her work clothes, though at least the cardigan seemed comfy enough.
She looked exhausted. She shouldn't still be here, but he couldn't tell her that. It wasn't up to him, unfortunately.
He offered her the bowl of chips. She gratefully accepted.
Then the two of them watched their favorite movie.
Mel didn't talk during the movie. Bob normally appreciated that in a viewer, but they both knew this film like the back of their hands. He imagined there was much to talk about, quizzing each other about behind the scenes trivia and the like.
No, she was quiet. Bob thought it would stay like that.
It came to the part where the brothers were staking out the mark for their next con when Mel finally piped up.
"You got me the food" she said, "I didn't get to thank you."
He cleared his throat, "It's nothing, really. We just thought-"
"Why are you nice to me?"
The abrupt delivery forced Bob to pull away from the screen with a sharp turn.
Mel was looking at him now, the lights from the TV screen dancing off her harrowed demeanor.
She was breathing deeper now, the kind of deep breathing from someone who had been keeping something close to their chest.
"Should I be an asshole?" he asked, unsure where this was going. Why wouldn't he be nice?
"Do you not remember? What I did?"
He squinted at her, "What?"
"Bob," she shut her eyes, "what happened when Void got out?"
"I don't really remember. It's still a haze"
He had seen the footage of him as Sentry, defeating his friends like it was nothing, with abilities he didn't think of having.
But that was all the cameras had. Everything between that and him hovering outside, Void-ed out, had been corrupted somehow.
At least, that was what he was told.
"I knew I was the Sentry. I-I don't…"
"You don't remember using your powers? You don't remember after the team left?"
"No" he shifted so he could fully face her, "Mel, what happened?"
She let out a quivering breath, face crumpled into a pained grimace.
"After you fought the team, you and Valentina had a disagreement. It escalated. I walked in and-and y-y-you had your hand at her throat," she struggled through her words.
Then she said:
"You were going to kill her"
Bob paled, "Shit."
The team didn't tell him this. Fuck, did they even know?
"I panicked, I didn't- I didn't know what to do, but there was a failsafe-"
"A failsafe"
Mel nodded, "Every trial subject was implanted with a device. In case the experiments did work. Because we couldn't have-"
"Screw ups" Bob filled in the blanks, "with powers."
"It was a way to make sure we didn't have multiple people running around with these abilities. Val called it the Kill Switch. Bob…"
Her lips shook, guilt overwhelming her.
"… I pushed it. You were dead. Like it looked like you were-I'm so sorry," her hands went to her hair, her entire upper body hunching over, "And then the shadows came. It was all my fault. I've-I've been holding this in and I thought-"
"Did you think I'd be mad?"
Suddenly everything made sense. Why Mel had been so shaken when she saw him all those months ago. Why she had kept him at arms length.
She believed he was going to…
He shook his head. God, he would never.
Tentatively, he reached for her, rubbing her back.
"You did what you had to do" he consoled.
She looked up, cheeks stained with tears, "But-"
"I never wanted to hurt anyone. Even if it's Valentina" he said, which was the truth.
It was hard times, yeah, to clamp down the rage. But he knew the moment he gave in, then he was no different than his dad.
He was scared though. Because he had that capacity then. To hurt someone. To hurt his friends. No wonder why Mel had been uneasy around him.
He wouldn't have trusted himself either.
Sometimes, he still didn't.
"Thank you," Bob continued, "For stopping me."
Mel sniffled, "Do you thank me for triggering the Void?"
"No, that sucked. Majorly,"
Both he and Mel cracked a smile at that.
"But you didn’t know that was going to happen."
Mel shook her head, "I still feel very bad"
"I can't speak for… the guy you saw nearly kill your boss, but I don't hold it against you."
That answered seemed to have made her feel better, though it didn't fully absolve her of her guilt. Like she couldn't forgive herself quite yet, even if Bob had.
Something she had to carry. Albeit, Bob hoped he had made it lighter somehow, but talking about it with her.
"How about we enjoy the rest of the movie?" he gently suggested. They could put a pin in this for now.
She nodded.
Mel didn't relax right away. Not until several more scenes passed that she reclined fully into the couch. Bob took turns between looking at the movie and looking at her, just checking in with her.
It was towards the end, despite the emotional performances, he saw it, her smile returning.
Maybe it was because he didn't get to see it often until more recently, but Bob found that he liked it when Mel smiled. It suited her well. It made him want to coax it out of her more, to make her feel like she could while at work.
A sensation stirred within him, something Bob had yet to name, but he knew he was drawn to her, just fascinated by all the idiosyncrasies of Valentina's assistant.
Because she was different from her boss, she actually cared, had even felt guilty for what she did.
It must have been difficult, shouldering the knowledge that her actions triggered citywide trauma. She must have blamed herself.
"Do you think it's true?" Mel said after a while, her voice hoarse from having cried a bit earlier, "There's no such thing as an 'unwritten life'?"
The main theme of the movie. After one of the brothers, who had been living out his life through the other brother's cons, never knowing how to not play a part and just be.
He had wanted an unwritten life.
Bob hadn't thought about it as much as he would have liked. There were times where it felt true. His life felt like some big tragedy because how could it not be?
Someone like him, a battered junkie from the wrong side of the tracks. No father, no mother who gave a damn about him. Looking for something he couldn't have, losing everything to chase the high.
Doomed by the narrative, he had heard from someone. It was like that. That was how he was written. A tragic character who would meet a tragic end, there was no other way around it.
"'There's no such thing as an unwritten life, just a badly written one'," Bob quoted the movie. He sighed, "I think I used to think that way."
"What changed?"
"I died"
Mel looked down, "Yeah."
"Like three times"
"Oh wow. Yeah"
"Then I came here," Bob continued, "Like you said. You don't understand things until after they happen. I didn't know what my life was like until it 'ended'."
"The end of the story. The story of your life," Mel followed his train of thought, "So you got your answers."
"Yeah"
"What's the verdict?"
"It… sucked"
The two of them laughed.
"Depends on who's telling the story" Mel theorized.
"Maybe. But if it's a badly written story then you could just start a new one, right?"
She hummed, "I'd like to think so."
Bob grabbed a couple of mini soda cans he had on the coffee table. He handed Mel one.
"To new stories" he toasted, "A fresh start."
Mel smiled, raising her can, "To new stories."
They took a sip as the characters drove their car to the horizon, day shifting to night- a new beginning.
Hmm. This was nice. He had people in his life trying to help him get better. A roof over his head. And a new friend.
New beginnings. A new life.
He took another swig, a wayward but dark thought slipped into his mind.
Let's see how long it takes before he somehow fucks this one up too…