Greg Vs Raid 9-28 (Patreon)

“Boss, this your personal?”

The smell of blood — fresh and dry — was thick around him, somehow managing to cover up the stench of a body that definitely hadn’t known a good shower in at least a week. It wasn’t bad enough to make him breathe through his mouth but Greg still forced out an exhale as the person on the other end responded as he expected.

“Yeah, Seo, it’s me.” The plastic rubber of his cell phone was slippery with sweat, speaker grill pressed up close and tight to his ear. “I know there’s rules about using the burner but mine got chewed up” — by a giant fucking dog —”and I don’t have the time to get a new one.” 

“I hear you, boss. I hear you. Just security’s a big thing.”“I hear you too, Seo. But I need a ride.” Greg bit back another sigh as he glanced over his shoulder. “Like I need it an hour ago, man.”

"You... the…” Behind him, the foyer of his house was currently playing host to a complete mental breakdown, Emma Barnes practically vibrating out of her denim shorts, her mouth opening and closing as half-finished sentences sputtered out of pink-glossed lips. “The… the television... the giant... Leviathan... you had a robot..."

"A van." Greg rolled his eyes, very much not in the mood to deal with anything that wasn’t the dying teenage girl in the house leaving DNA everywhere. "I’m gonna need some space in the back. Like major space."

“Not too far from your place, boss.” The faint crackle of the line wasn’t enough to hide the smoke-rough baritone of his number two, Seo Asada taking another pull with all the urgency of a guy deciding what to order at a drive-thru. "Give me five minutes. I can get you what you need."

"Yeah, probably gonna need to clean it out after we’re done." Blue eyes dropped down to the expanding puddle of dark crimson in the process of making a mess on his mother's pristine hardwood. “And I’m gonna need a clean-up crew here before my mom gets back from… whatever she’s up to. Understood?”“...a clean-up crew, boss? You…” Seo took another pull, one that sounded a lot less relaxed to Greg’s ears. “You throw a party or something?”

“Understood?”

"...understood, boss.” The last word dragged out for just a second longer before the line clicked dead. A little bit of worry but no panic, Seo was useful like that. 

He knew better than to panic about a little bit of blood.

Pulling the phone away from his ear, Greg shoved it back into his pocket and glanced back down at his body, blood-splattered t-shirt and jeans making him wish he hadn’t dismissed away the heavy weighted reality of his White Knight costume. The blue cowl, the white lenses, heavy boots and gauntlets both; it might have been ridiculous but they were armor for more than one reason. 

Blue eyes flicked even further down, settling on the barely-conscious girl drowning in the yellow raincoat. Analyze.

The world hitched as a box — bright blue and just translucent enough to see through like stained glass — flared into existence directly over the dark-skinned girl’s face, system text crisp and aggressively unhelpful.

As usual.

Sophia Marjorie Hess Lvl 18Fade to BlackTrait: Umbral State Translocation 

HP: 58/255 

[Shadow Stalker? 

Yeah, she's fucking Shadow Stalker. It went right over your head, didn’t it? 

Can you imagine that? 

You spent actual time around her, learned her voice, got familiar with her whole violently unpleasant deal, met her in costume, and still failed to put it together. She wasn't even subtle about being a psycho, either, and you just thought she was weird.

You gotta be thinking to yourself right now; who else could be a cape? 

HMMMMMMM? ]

…I don’t like when you’re snarky to me, Ms. Game. Blue eyes narrowed as he waved a hand, the blue text vanishing before his blood pressure could spike any higher. It’s very rude.

Greg shook his head as he dragged his gaze up from the dying vigilante to see Emma staring at him, bright green eyes wide enough to show the whites all the way around.

"You're… you’re… Greg?” “...At the risk of sounding blasphemous, I be he.”“N-nooo. I mean…” Emma gasped out, chest heaving as her words cracked right down the middle.  "You're... l-literally... you're him."

“I’ve always been him.”Emma pulled in another rattling breath. “You’re White Knight. H-how?”

"Well, I’ve got five minutes to waste so I can be technical about it. The official name is actually Sir Prodigy. I worked hard on it. Nobody seems to give a shit, though." Greg rolled his eyes because sarcasm was a reflex and the alternative was screaming when there was a dying black girl in his very Caucasian house in the Neo-Nazi capital of America. "But I feel like that’s a losing battle at this point. Branding is a nightmare, you know?"

"I don't... I don't understand." Greg tilted his head. “Human condition, right?”"No! How? How are you him?” Emma choked, her hands hovering uselessly in the air, the bright red cascade of her hair a mess around her shoulders. “How did you..."

Sophia let out a rattling groan against the floorboards, the sound wet enough to distract Emma from her panic for all of a second.

"Like, who did you think I was, Emma?" His hands went up with a sigh. "Like, not to make two Jesus jokes in a row, but you came to my house looking for a miracle. The hell did you think you were talking to?"

Emma blinked, makeup smeared with tears trailing down her face. "I... I don't know. Some random healer who was kinda strong?"

Greg pulled a face. I don’t know whether to be offended. He pressed a hand to his chest, shaking his hand. "Et tu, Emma?"

"What?"

“...it’s Latin. It means..." Greg bit down on his tongue as the heavy rumble of an engine cut through his words. Thank you, Seo. Quicker than he expected, but he wasn’t going to complain a single bit. "Actually, forget it. Just... just stay back, Emma."

Greg didn't wait for Emma to figure out how to be helpful as he bent down, arms already sliding under Sophia's armpits and the crook of her knees to hoist the track star off the floor. Sophia may have been deadweight but at least she wasn’t dead weight. Either way, the yellow rubber of the raincoat was still slick with enough blood to leave Greg’s tee soaked. 

With a grunt, he shouldered the front door open wider and stepped out into the humid evening air to see a rusted unmarked white utility van idling right in the driveway. The rear doors were wide open, Seo standing there in a dress shirt — pristine white silk as usual — with a cig dangling from his mouth and his eyes wide as Greg made his way over.

Moving as quickly as he could to ignore the very real possibility of nosy Mrs. Abernathy looking out her blinds, IT only took a few seconds for him to drop Sophia into the van. Sliding her body further inside, Greg slammed the rear doors shut and jogged around to the passenger side to hop into the seat.

"Drive to the hideout.”

Seo took a slow drag from his cigarette, end flaring bright orange in the dimming light. "Which one?"

"Mine?” He nearly bit the word out, shooting Seo a glare that had the man already in motion.

"Got you, boss." The van shifted into gear for a second before Seo jerked his chin in the direction of Greg’s window. "She coming with?"

Greg turned around — a "who" already forming on his lips — to see Emma standing frozen on his front lawn, arms wrapped around herself as she stared at the white van like it belonged to Mr. Chill-ee himself.

"Emma, what are you doing?" 

"I..." Emma swallowed hard, her eyes flicking from Greg to the tired Japanese man smoking in the driver's seat. “I…”

"Get in the van before the neighbors see us.” 

At his hissed command, Emma scrambled into the back of the van, her breath coming in heavy gasps that filled the space of the cab as she yanked the side door shut behind her.

Without another word, the van lurched away from the curb, tires squealing as it left the neighborhood behind.

Nicotine and tobacco waged their own war with the thick stench of blood in the van, streetlights flickering in the windshield as the sun fully set below the edge of the world. As they drove, Seo kept his eyes firmly on the road, right hand on top of the steering wheel while his left tapped ash out the window. “You shoot a black girl, boss?"

“Wha-!” Greg turned his head so fast his neck popped. "No."

"You still the boss, I get it. Not the craziest thing you’ve done." Seo smacked his lips, tone dry and completely empty of judgment. "It's just a little..."

Okay, maybe not completely.

"I know. I know how it looks." Greg bit his tongue again, a sigh slipping free. “Also, remember to send someone to my house to clean up.”

"Already on their way” Seo was quiet for a few seconds, then… “Also, boss, I get it."

"Don’t… don’t say that. Look, I didn't shoot her, okay?" Fingers rubbed at his nose, Greg fighting a groan and the headache blooming right behind his eyes. "She showed up like this. All I’m doing here is just trying to get her help."

"By taking her to... to the warehouse."

"...yes?" 

Seo took another slow drag. "The same one where you..."“Yes, yes, the same one where I ix-nayed Yuri.” Greg hissed the words out again. “Keep driving.”Seo just nodded. 

"…I know this looks really bad, okay?" Greg sighed, the phantom smell of burned human flesh suddenly fresh as that first night. "But just work with me on this." With another sigh, his eyes went up to the rearview mirror, Emma still completely silent where she sat in the back, knees pressed tight together with her face as pale as snow. “Don’t worry, Emma. Sophia… I’ll help her okay.”Emma’s head jerked up, green eyes catching his in the mirror.

All she could do was nod slowly before she went back to staring at nothing.

Torn-up asphalt had the van rattling as they entered the Docks proper, uneven roadwork all the announcement needed. Soon enough, they pulled up to the corrugated roll-up door of the renovated hideout, Seo hitting the brakes and throwing the van into park as the engine remained on idle.

Greg jumped from the car, rushing to the back to hoist Sophia’s unconscious body into his arms again. Emma scrambled out after him, her plush slippers too ruined by blood for the industrial grime of the docks to be an issue.

"Just gonna hide the van, boss." Seo waved two fingers through the open window, face a shadow in the dim light. "Be right back."

The van rolled away, leaving Greg and Emma standing in front of the doors. Greg wasted no time in slapping a thumb on the access panel on the wall, a beep and a green light confirming his identity as the door slid upward with a heavy grinding hum.

The scent of fresh paint and industrial cleaner hit him instantly, a massive contrast to the rust and decay outside as Greg marched inside. As clean as the inside was, the heavy squelch of his boots left red half-moons on the floor that quickly put an end to that.

"Yo, Greg, you're not gonna believe what the—"

Sparky froze halfway across the main floor,  half-eaten bag of Doritos held high. His long dark hair was tied back, meaning nothing was in the way to stop his bright golden eyes from locking onto the bleeding bundle in Greg's arms. “Wha-” Then, his gaze shifted slightly to the left, landing on the redhead standing awkwardly just behind him, halfway to another panic attack already. “Wha-”“Oh come on!” Greg looked back at a bent-over Emma. “I just got her to calm down!”

The Dorito bag hit the floor. “What the f-!”