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“ I don’t weigh eighty pounds, you asshole!

” She grabbed one of the boxes of store supplies from a pile in the hallway and smashed him in the head with it.

“You got some pounds on me. But I got more than enough hate to equal it out.” She grabbed his head and smashed hers into it.

He might be bigger, but the bone of her forehead was still stronger than the cartilage of his nose.

Ronnie swore and staggered away, clutching the broken remains of his face.

Mull launched herself onto his back, trying to get him in a choke hold and put him down. At this point, it was really her only chance of surviving this.

Instead, he flipped her over his shoulders and sent her through a coffee table which the store had offered for sale in 1986. The glass erupted around her, cutting her skin in a thousand places. She tried to struggle free and get back to her feet, but Ronnie brought his foot down on her face.

He looked down at her for a moment, the blood from his broken nose and lacerated scalp dripping down onto her face and chest, coating her.

He casually kicked the remains of the coffee table away, then reached down to grab a handful of her hair and dragged her back to her feet.

She slammed one of the shards of glass into the base of his neck, but he was too angry to even feel it, apparently. Instead, he simply tossed her through the wall like she weighed nothing.

Mull crashed through the plaster, wood, and pipes, then hit the wall on the other side of the hallway and landed in a broken heap.

Ronnie followed her a moment later, prowling through the opening her body had made in the wall, intent on finishing her off.

Her hand fell to the floor beside her, where one of the broken water pipes was lying. As Ronnie stepped through the wall, she swung the pipe in an effort to take out his knee and even up the fight some.

To her surprise, the blow didn’t even slow him down. It hit him and all but bounced off. She’d swung it hard enough to break bone, but… no. Nothing.

Instead, he kicked her as she tried to get up, causing Mull to collapse again.

“I HATE YOU!” He bellowed in a ragged voice, kicking her again. “ YOU RUINED MY LIFE! ”

The next time his foot struck her, she grabbed it and tried to knock him down, but he simply used that opportunity to knee her in the face. The strike knocked the back of her head through the wall behind her.

And Mull was done.

She slipped down to the floor, watching through darkened eyes as the water from the pipes cascaded around her in the hallway like a fountain. There was something… beautiful about it. The way the light hit the graceful spray and formed a prism.

She coughed, the warmth of her blood quickly disappearing in the sheet of cold water falling onto her.

Ronnie got back to his feet. “I warned you what would happen.” He reminded her, his tone still furious and unhinged.

“I told you not to mess with our partnership, but you didn’t listen.

” He clawed at his hair in irritation, paying no attention to the blood which coated his head.

“ You never fucking listened to me!!! Never! You never cared! ”

From the warehouse area, there was the sound of a door closing.

And Mull instantly knew who it was.

Ronnie did too. “And now your knight in shining armor is here.” He rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t have involved him in our personal matter.” He sounded more annoyed with her than anything else. Like he was scolding her for endangering Oz. “ Now you’ve gone and done it.”

Mull used the last of her energy to try to get back to her feet and protect Oz…

“ Shut up and die, like a good girl! ” Ronnie shouted in irritation, then punched her in the face.

Mull’s vision went dark.

****

There was nothing more irritating on Thanksgiving than guests. Especially if they were uninvited.

Mercygiver watched this grotesquely moral Cape slink through the warehouse, searching for his missing partner.

All in all, the man was doing a fairly competent job. Good for him.

Still, staying out of his way was easy. The man might be a Cape, but Mercygiver was very good at disappearing. He could blend into the shadows and there wasn’t a hero in town who could find him. It wasn’t a superpower, it was simply a survival instinct he’d developed over the years.

He wanted this man gone, and he wanted to return to dealing with his obnoxious ex.

Sadly, the man seemed to have a sense that someone was in the warehouse and he wasn’t going to leave until he found out who.

He stopped in the office area, looking down at the blood on the floor and the large hole in the wall. He knew whose blood that was. It was obvious.

The man cautiously crept down the hallway, moving fast but somehow managing to not make a sound despite the amount of glass on the floor. It was quite impressive, really.

Mercygiver tried to keep pace behind him, out of sight, which was becoming increasingly difficult.

At this point, Rondel was genuinely impressed with this guy.

Well, except for his clothes.

He had absolutely no idea why anyone would be wearing a fox hunting outfit into battle. But Rondel suspected it was probably the girl’s doing.

She’d always been a meddling bitch, who made things more difficult for everyone.

She’d picked out Rondel’s clothes a few times over the years too. He’d detested them. They made him look like a fool.

But he’d worn them anyway.

Because he was lonely. And… that woman had always had control of him.

The man made his way into Roy’s living area, and the small kitchenette, where he stopped.

He stood in front of the refrigerator, hands fisted at his sides. Like he was terrified of the nightmare he might find inside. He reached out with a shaky hand… to find it empty.

The man’s legs visibly went to jelly in relief for a moment, mumbling a soft prayer of thanks to his gods.

As he did though, Mercygiver accidentally hit one of the pipes which had been torn from the wall, and the metal made the tiniest of sounds.

The man spun around instantly, reacting faster than Mercygiver would have given him credit for.

But Mercygiver moved faster.

He hit the man in the back of the head with one of the heavy history books from the end table in the apartment, knocking him to the floor.

Mercygiver dragged him towards one of the chairs set up in the living area. For some reason, he found the entire process remarkably challenging. The man was surprisingly heavy and Rondel had genuine difficultly lifting him up.

He pulled the man into the chair, then quickly secured him with zip ties as the man started to rouse. Mercygiver pulled away from him, just as the man came to and started to struggle.

Mercygiver let out a long breath. “Well, this could have gone better, Mister Dimico.” He told him regretfully, crossing his arms over his chest. “You seem like a truly charming man, and I had hoped that our first meeting could have been under better circumstances. Like, say, that redheaded bitch’s funeral. ”

Oz’s vision cleared and he stared at Mercygiver in something like… confusion. Which was a truly odd emotion to exhibit, considering the circumstances.

The man’s eyebrows rose in bafflement as he continued looking at Mercygiver. “Natalie, what the hell are you doing?”