She looked like Anna Romanova, only shorter and with harsher features. And paler. And kinda goth and all. All right, fine. Short of the long, dark hair, she looked nothing like Romanova.

"You need to stop resisting," she said, though I wasn't sure what about.

All I knew at that moment was that my gut was feeding a fire that burned through my entire body, and her hands were right in there, moving around.

"You need to calm down, Jeffery," she said, and I wondered briefly how she knew my name, considering I had never met her before, but then chalked it up to the fact that many strangers seemed to know my name as of late--and that bothered me. She must have sensed that.

"I said calm down."

She moved to emphasize her point, the pain racing up my spine and into my head like a bullet. I opened my mouth but could not scream, as darkness enveloped my vision once more.

"You owe me for this," she said, as I entered into comfortable oblivion. "Remember that."

And then, everything ceased to be.

Bush43
Issue #18
"Hide and Seek"
By Jason S. Kenney

Harsh lights burned at my eyes, as they tried to adjust.

I was lyaing on the floor of the cave under Burke Manor-- the Bush Cave, as I'd taken to calling it.

Thing is: last I remembered, I was laying on the floor of Burke Manor.

Bleeding to death.

I sat up quick and just as quickly laid back down and shouted in pain, grabbing at the knives that seemed to jab at my gut.

"Take it easy," said a female voice off to the side. I looked over to see that woman again, the pale, kinda-short chick with long, black hair.

"Where's Alfonse?" I asked, as I started to roll over and try and get myself to my feet. I stopped, as she gently placed a hand on my shoulder.

"He is up stairs dealing the police," she said, as she pushed me onto my back. She grabbed and pulled up my right arm.

I winced, as she touched the still open wounds on my forearm, the ones made during a certain session with a particular new New Mage.

"What are these from?" she asked, as her fingers danced from one cut to the next, eventually touching upon all seven of them.

"A ghost doggie," I said.

She nodded and seemed to contemplate that and then dropped my arm.

"It'll have to heal itself," she said, standing upright. "The cuts aren't very deep anyway."

"Who are you?" I asked, as she turned and walked from me. I slowly rolled over again and started to get to my feet.

"Lilith Cadduceus," she said, as she started to pace. "I arrived shortly after your little cut," she said, gesturing towards my gut, "and your friend Alfonse woke up shortly thereafter and advised that you be moved down here."

"Is Alfonse okay?" I asked, as I stood up way too quickly.

"He's fine, but he recommended you remain down here for the time being."

"Why?"

Lilith shrugged. "The police, I suppose."

I looked down at my gut and ran a finger along the nice scar that had formed there, then moved to the longer though not nearly as deep one across my chest.

"You fixed this?" I asked looking up to Lilith.

"I did," she said with a nod, "but it comes with it's price."

"Price?"

"I don't do this shit for free," she said, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear, bracelets sliding along her forearm as she reached up and then back down. "You owe me. And I will call in the debt."

"Owe you what?"

"It doesn't matter. I'll ask; you'll do. If that's not good enough, I'll put you right back the way I found you."

I looked back to my gut and noticed that I'd still been touching the scar. I self-consciously pulled my hand away.

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"Good," she said. "Your chest is fine; your arm should heal itself nicely. I did what I could for your abdomen, but your body resisted too much for me to fix it completely. You're going to hurt for the next few weeks, and you have to take it easy, or you'll make it worse, and you won't be much good to me then."

"Thanks, Doc," I said with a smirk.

And with that, Lilith Cadduceus disappeared.

***

I'd gotten bored, so I tried to do some sort of exercises, but the pain in my gut kept me from doing anything except laying down and hoping the pain would end while trying to remind myself to leave a bottle of aspirin down here for future use.

About an hour after Lilith left, Alfonse came downstairs. I jumped to my feet and immediately clutched my gut, as pain once again raced through me so hard that I almost collapsed.

I'd never seen Alfonse move so fast. He braced me with a hand on my shoulder, as his other hovered just inches from my hands at my gut. He leaned to look me in the face.

"Are you okay, Jeffery?" he asked, his face a look of concern over sorrow. There were bruises just under his eyes, red with tears, and his nose was in a brace.

"Are you okay?"

"I will be fine, Jeffery," said Alfonse, straightening up and trying to clear his face of emotion. "I am glad to see that you are doing well."

"For the most part," I said with a grimace, as my stomach continued to argue that point. "What about that other lady?" I asked.

Alfonse hesitated and looked down for a moment.

"Miss Burke is dead."

"She's what?!?" I almost jumped at Alfonse.

"LAYLA Burke," restated Alfonse as he registered my misinterpretation. I clutched my chest and loosened up a bit. I thought Victoria was dead.

"Layla Burke," I said, trying to remember the name.

"Victoria's mother," said Alfonse, looking into my eyes. He seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"Oh. Oh no..."

We both looked away from each other. Alfonse trying to hide his sorrow; me willing to let him.

"Does Victoria know?" I finally asked. Alfonse shook his head.

"No," he said, "she hasn't been home since yesterday. And, quite frankly, I'm worried."

"I'm sure she's fine," I said, trying to put some sort of good spin on something in this mess.

"The police are looking for her."

"They are? For wha..." Oh crap. "Do they think she did this?" Alfonse nodded. "But she didn't!" I said. "I saw who did this; it's not Victoria. I'll tell the police."

"There lies the problem, Jeffery," said Alfonse, looking back to me. "If you tell the police, they will ask how you know. If you say you fought the murderer, they will ask where you were when they arrived. Do you tell them you were down here," he said, gesturing to the cave around us, "being healed? How did you get down here? Why did I move you? And what is this cave for?"

"Why did you move me, Alfonse?" I asked in a more accusatory tone than I meant.

"Because my first thought was to protect your identity and Victoria's. Why were you here? What relation are you to Victoria or myself or what happened? And you needed medical help, Jeffery. Doctor Cadduceus needed time to work on you, and she was not going to have that time upstairs with the police around.

"I fear I've made a mess of things, Jeffery," said Alfonse, shaking his head.

A lot of questions ran through my head:

What about my blood being all over the scene?

What about my room being a mess and full of my stuff, if they did a search of the house, which I assume they would have?

What about so many things.

But I didn't want to voice them to Alfonse. Not now, not with the mood he was in. It'd only have made things worse.

"Any idea where Victoria might be?" I asked.

"She was out with Cindy Marigolds," said Alfonse, "although she probably stayed with Crowley." He grimaced, practically spitting out the name.

"Where would that have been?"

Alfonse started to speak but stopped, his mouth hanging open and then shutting quickly. He swallowed hard.

"Jeffery," he finally said, "you need to rest. You almost died last night, and you can not go out just yet."

"We need to find Victoria," I said, "before the cops. I can do that, Alfonse, and without jumping around or anything. I'll be careful, I promise."

He hesitated, then nodded.

"I will get you the address while I gather you some clothes," he said, turning and heading for the stairs. "You will have to find another place to stay until this blows over, you know."

"I figured as much," I said, noticing my hand and stopping it from playing with the scar again.

"Alfonse," I called out. He stopped halfway up the stairs and turned to me.

"I'm sorry," I said. "If I'd just been here sooner..."

"You did not know, Jeffery," he said with a choked voice. "There was nothing you could have done."

He turned and went up the stairs.

***

Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to borrow one of the Burke Estate cars to drive into town, but I couldn't exactly have run there, given how much pain I was in. And seeing as how I hadn't driven a car in almost a year, I pissed off a lot of folks by driving speed limit or less all the way. Well, lack of driving combined with fear of getting pulled over. Last thing I needed was to have to explain why I was driving a car registered under the Burke name.

I parked at a strip mall just outside of Pacific City and caught a bus into town, backpack over my shoulder with a couple changes of clothes and one trusty mask just in case. While the itch was there, I was hoping that I wouldn't need to use it. Rather, my stomach was hoping. Pleading. Attacking me.

The apartment Alfonse sent me to was in one of those ritzy buildings with a guy at the door, and I had to try and finagle my way past the man with some story about losing my keys and my mother really needing something important in my bag. He wasn't buying it, but some guy trying to race past us and into the building seemed to warrant his attention more, so I was given an easy out and booked it to the stairs before the guy could notice.

Now, normally taking the stairs isn't any sort of trouble, seeing as how I'm really strong and athletic and stuff. But now it was the worst idea I had ever had.

I got to the seventh floor and had to rest a few minutes while my gut punished me for living. God, I hope this pain doesn't last.

I looked up and down the hallway before stepping out and walking towards apartment 7B.

I stopped in front of the door, took a deep breath, and knocked.

There was some noise inside, someone shuffling, sounding like they were either trying to hide or get dressed. After a few minutes, the door opened a bit, the chain on the inside keeping it from opening much more, as a man's head poked into view.

"Yeah?" he asked from behind the cigarette clamped in the side of his mouth. The guy wasn't from around here, his accent closer to mine than Victoria's. American.

"Crowley?" I asked.

"What?" he replied as he shifted a bit.

"Is Victoria here?" I asked, trying to look behind him.

"Who the fuck are you?" he asked as his eyes narrowed slightly.

I didn't have time for this.

Crowley was knocked back on his ass, as I kicked the door in. He was cursing while I slammed it behind me after stomping into the place.

"Victoria?" I called out as Crowley got to his feet. I ignored him and his shouts, as I went to the bedroom and pushed open the door.

Empty.

I went for the other bedroom and started to turn the doorknob, when I suddenly stopped, let go, and turned around to face Crowley.

"Who are you?" he asked as he stepped towards me.

"Jeffery Carter," I found myself answering. I also found myself not moving.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked, as he kept coming and lit a new cigarette in his mouth.

"Looking for Victoria Burke," I said against my wishes--which, at that point, were to punch the shit out of this guy and maybe urinate on him for good measure.

"Why?" Crowley stepped right to my face.

"Because her mother is dead."

His face dropped slightly.

"Huh," he said. "Shit." He turned and walked from me, his hand stroking his chin while I just stood there and tried really hard to move.

"She's not here," he said finally, turning and plopping himself down in a chair. "Hasn't been for a couple nights."

"Do you know where she is?" I asked, and the look on his face changed to one that I found hard to identify. It was like he tried to concentrate more. And I felt something in my head shift.

"No, I don't," he said as his face relaxed. "How did Layla Burke die?"

How'd he know her name?

"Stabbed," I said.

"Where?"

"Burke Manor."

"When?"

"Last night."

"Who did it?"

"I don't know," I said.

Crowley frowned and then looked past me at the bedroom door briefly, then snapped back to me.

He stood up and walked to me again, stopping about a foot away and studying my face.

"So you're Bush43," he said with a snicker. I couldn't do much but I could widen my eyes at least.

And then something clicked, and I stumbled and caught myself. I could move.

"Nice save, hero," he said as he took a drag off his cigarette.

I stood there for a moment and flexed my hands, happy to be mobile again. Then I looked at Crowley, with that fucking smug look on his face.

And I punched him in it.

He fell to his ass yet again, his cigarette flying out and smoldering on the carpet. I shook the pain from the punch out of my hand as I loomed over him.

"Don't fuck with my head again," I said.

And I stormed out of the apartment to more of his cussing. v***

Isiah Rowe opened his door with a slightly concerned look on his face. He must have been reading the look on mine.

"What's up?" he asked, stepping aside to let me in.

"I can't stay long," I said, as I dropped my backpack on his couch and unzipped it, pulling out my mask and stuffing it in my pocket. "But I was wondering..."

I turned to him.

"I hate to be a burden, man, but can I crash here for a couple nights?"

"Sure," he said without hesitation. "What's up? Are you all right?"

"Not really," I said, heading towards his kitchen for some water. "I got stabbed last night and haven't fully recovered."

"Stabbed?" Isiah asked, as he followed me. I grabbed a glass out of the cabinet, filled it, and finished it off.

"Yep," I said as I refilled the glass. "With a sword."

Now my stomach was hurting with a different pain, and I went for the fridge.

"What about being invulnerable?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, as I rummaged through his fridge, "that's what I was wondering." I found some left over lo mien and was pleased as punch. "But," I said, closing the fridge, "I've got more important things to worry about. You mind?" I gestured to the lo mien I already had open. He shook his head. "Sweet."

I found a fork and started to dig in.

"I saw the news," he said, and I stopped with noodles dangling out of my mouth. "About Burke."

I sucked the noodles in and nodded.

"Yeah," I said, poking at the food, suddenly not very hungry. I set it down and drank my water. "Yeah," I said again. "Look, I have to run. Are you sure you don't mind my staying?"

"Not at all," Isiah said, as I put the food back in the fridge and then headed out of the kitchen. "Jeff," he said as I got to the door, "you're not involved in this shit, are ya?"

I smirked.

"Isiah, my friend, I'm up to my neck in it."

***

"I don't know where she is, Jeffery," said Erlend Romanov as he leaned back in his seat, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, its ash threatening to fall onto the carpet.

"Well then, can you call the cops off?" I asked, as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I could never make myself comfortable in Romanov's office. Not after my history there. Not given my relationship with the self appointed Mayor. Nope, was not gonna get comfy.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Jeffery," said Romanov, sucking on his cigarette, the tip flaring red. "The police have complete authority to do their jobs in civilian affairs, such as the murder of Layla Burke."

"But what about Victoria?"

"Victoria's personal life is not mine to intrude upon," said Romanov as he started to rock in his seat. "My involvement with you lot ends with your job as New Mages. If you all insist on having these alter egos, then you must deal with them yourselves."

"But they think she did it!" I shouted. How could he be so unattached?

"And they are wrong, but Victoria will have to deal with that herself. You're not exactly helping her with that, are you?"

He stubbed out his cigarette and stood up.

"You were there, Jeffery. You fought Layla Burke's murderer. You could identify her. You could prove Victoria's innocence."

"But what about..."

"Your being there? Your involvement with Victoria and Alfonse? Yes, what about that, Jeffery?"

"Are you going to help or not?" I asked, avoiding what he was trying to suggest.

He only looked at me with that fucking smile.

I turned and stormed towards the door.

"And what exactly is it you intend to do?" I heard a female voice ask me from behind, and I turned to see Anna Romanova standing there now with same damn smile Romanov had. "Why are you looking for her, Jeffery? To tell her the police are after her? To provide her a shoulder to lean on? To hide her? To protect her?"

"She needs to know," I said.

"And you need your rest, Jeffery," said Romanova in reference to the pain that still tore through me, the pain whose cause I had not told her about. "She will find out on her own soon enough."

"Are you going to help or not?" I repeated roughly through clenched teeth.

And now, Romanova just looked at me with that smile.

Fuck this.

***

Alfonse answered the phone quicker than I expected. I still hadn't figured out what exactly to say.

"Hey, Alfonse," I said after a pause that almost had him hang up.

"Jeffery, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, as I leaned my head against the side of the phone booth. "Have you heard from her at all?"

Silence.

"Alfonse?"

"Jeffery," he said, the sound in his voice something I'd never heard from him before: he sounded on the verge of tears. "She was here and gone."

"Gone gone?"

"She saw the foyer and disappeared."

"And the police?"

"Those here saw the whole thing."

"Shit."

"More or less."

"Okay, all right, any idea where she might run to?"

"Other than Crowley's? No."

"She's not there, or hadn't been when I was. I'll check again."

"Jeffery, are you sure you are okay?"

"I'm staying at Isiah's," I said, and I gave him the number. "If you hear from her or see her, please call and leave a message there, and I'll get it. I'll check in time to time, too."

"Jeffery," said Alfonse sternly, "are you all right?"

"Jesus, Alfonse," I said, closing my eyes, "are YOU all right? This is practically your family we're dealing with here. How are YOU doing?"

"I am holding up like I always do, Jeffery," Alfonse said very unconvincingly. "But you need to rest. You have to heal some, and your running around isn't helping."

"I'll rest once we find her," I said. "I'll keep ya posted, Alf."

"Do be careful," Alfonse said.

"I always am."

***

There was a breeze cutting across the rooftops of Pacific City as the sun tried to hide behind the horizon. The wind did wonders to cool me down and went a long way to taking my mind off the raging fire that tore through my insides. What kind of a healing job did that chick do that still hurt so much?

I looked around the city, hoping to see some sign of Victoria jumping around and maybe doing the heroing thing.

Nothing.

"C'mon, Vicky," I said under my breath as I looked around.

I heard something behind me, a scrape or a shuffle, definitely the sound of a foot step, and I spun and crouched, ready to face whoever it was.

And it was her.

"Victoria," I said, straightening up and trying to hide the grimace on my face.

She wasn't in any sort of costume, just normal khaki's and a blouse of some sort, and as usual she looked exceptional.

But her face told it all.

She opened her mouth to say something, but I don't know what, as her mouth just hung there and her entire body seemed to just give up.

I ran and caught her before she fell off balance, and she fell right into me, her head on my shoulder, her body shaking mine as it convulsed with sobs.

And I held her because it's all I could think to do.