"A week!?" Eustass was practically bellowing. His face had managed to pale and turn red at the same time. "He was harassing you for a week and you didn't say anything?!"

You were starting to fold in on yourself, but you nod.

"Why the fuck-!"

"Kid." Killer cuts in. "Probably cause she knew you'd react this way."

Kid pauses for a second, and you could see the rage building back up in him. He swore into the echoing room of the body shop and kicked a trash can so hard it cleared the whole length of the shop. You heard it crash into the far wall and thump onto the floor. It sounded almost comical, and would've been, if not for the fact that you were waiting for Kid to burst into flames any minute now.

You are sitting on a stool in the body shop section of the mechanic shop. You'd slept on the way over, and now were recounting the past week of harassment to Kid and Killer. Heat and Wire had left to go fix your door, or at least patch it up enough to keep critters out of the apartment so it could be fixed properly the next day.

"(Y/N)," Killer says softly, kneeling down in front of you. "It's probably the fact that your face looks so beat up that really has him angry."

Oh right, you hadn't let your body heal it because the emergency services had been coming. After talking to the marines and giving statements you'd honestly forgotten, the sharp pain of the assault had long since become a dull throb.

"Kid." You say and hear him growl in acknowledgement. "Assuming this opportunity won't arise again anytime soon, you should watch this."

Once you knew both of them were looking at you, you let things go. The injuries went through their healing process in a few minutes. Your split lip sealed, the swelling went down in your face, the bruises bloom and fade, and after a couple minutes all the relatively minor injuries were gone. Your eyes flick from Kid to Killer and then to the floor.

"That's..." Killer trails off, unsure of what to say.

Kid pokes your face. "Ow!" Your hand swings out on reflex and bats his hand away.

"Still tender? Man, that's certainly a drawback."

"Less so when people don't frickin' poke it." You grumble, rubbing your cheek tenderly.

"You pair that ability with some decent pain meds, and you'd at least appear unstoppable." You were surprised to hear such a thing from Killer. Between the two of them you'd expected Kid to bring it up.

"I'm sure it would throw people into a panic," you admit. "Or someone would just assume I had a Logia style Devil Fruit."

"Back to the important stuff," Kid says, leaning down and staring at you from an uncomfortably close distance. "Mouse." There was a glint in his eyes, and he is still obviously angry about earlier.

You put your hands up and look away. "So long as we're friends, I won't let someone harass me for a week before I tell you."

"Mouse." Kid says more forcefully, and you manage to bring your eyes back to his. You low your hands, feeling the heat rise in your face. "You won't let someone harass you at all. I don't give a shit if we're friends, enemies, or whatever."

"I – I didn't let Decken harass me." You gripe, balking at the phrasing.

Eustass gives you a look, and you feel your heart skip. "You know what I meant."

"If someone harasses me, I'll tell you." You say quietly. "No matter what."

Kid grins, and pokes your cheek again, though not as hard as before. "That's better."

You grumble at the cheek poke, and mutter under your breath.

"So, are we setting you up for a week, a month, or longer?" Kid asks, walking off to go collect the trash can he kicked.

You look blankly at Killer and blink before calling out to Kid in confusion. "I assumed just until my door was replaced."

"You got a spare room there?"

In your tiny-ass apartment? He's seen it, so what's with the weird question. "Uh, no. I have a couch?"

Kid doesn't say anything for a moment as you hear him gathering up the can and the trash that was in it before he hauls everything back over.

"Well, take a day or two and mull it over, but I won't be as comfortable on your couch as you'd be in the spare room I have."

"You and my couch? Why would you need to sleep on my couch?"

Killer puts a hand on yours to get your attention. "Decken barely got a slap on the wrist for that DUI, and you lost your hand. Do you think he'll see anything for splitting your lip?"

"But..."

"There's no traffic cams around your place," Kid adds. "No uninvolved witnesses, no missing limbs, no hospital stay, no mangled car." He looks apologetic on your behalf and ready to kick the trash can again. "I doubt he'll even be charged this time. They'll cite something about stress from the trial and get the whole deal dismissed."

"That's..." Your brain is keeping up, but you're not. You understand what they're both saying, but you don't want to believe it. Sighing, you sink into the stool. "I'm not going to be safe by myself for a while, am I?"

"You could probably call that pink-haired officer kid and get a restraining order, but uh, I feel like that would provoke more than protect." Kid admits, he looks truly miserable for giving you so much bad news all in one go.

"Yeah." You breathe in deep and let out a heavy sigh. "For now, I guess I'll plan to stay while I'm going through rehab. I won't have to worry about work, so it doesn't really matter, and here's easier than there." You manage a weak smile. "I'm even safer here since he doesn't know where you live."

"Knowing where I live wouldn't help him anyway," Kid grumbles. "Might help me, though, if he did."

"... You don't have to tell me what you guys do, but like, are you underground fighters or something?" You question, looking between the two of them.

Kid gives you a strange look, and even Killer's head is tilted.

"Not to be insensitive, but I can't imagine you got those scars doing charity work, Kid." You say. You're pretty sure that these two are the leaders of their own gang, but they haven't offered their story, and you weren't going to give your – probably more accurate – theory.

There's a grunt, and Kid starts laughing. "We do a lot of stuff you're better off not knowing about, Mouse. Funnily enough, illegal fights ain't one of 'em." He admits, ruffling your hair. "Not a bad idea though."

He opens his phone and looks at something before looking back at you. "We grabbed some clothes before we left, but if you're staying through your rehab, you're gonna need to go back to your place, ain't cha?"

"Yeah, ugh, the idea of packing a suitcase or two with one hand isn't thrilling."

"We know a girl or two, don't sweat it Mouse." Kid says. "Heat and Wire got the doorway secured for now, we'll be over tomorrow to replace it. I'll make sure House an' Emma can come by and pack for you."

"Hous-er, huh?"

"Friends," Killer says. "House is older, Emma's about your age."

"Heat and Wire will be back here soon, and we can head over to the house. We'll even let you hog the bathroom, Mouse."

You smile. "I'm starting to feel like a fucking mascot again," you admit with a laugh.

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"We gotta take you shopping, Fidget." House says, packing away the last of your underclothes. She's in her mid-late forties and looks like she's aged a little hard. A retired doctor, who started out as a field medic in the military, she looks like the definition of a "Drinking Buddy" if you had ever seen one.

"My clothes aren't falling apart," you offer in mild confusion.

"Ah haha, you're adorable!" Emma says, patting your shoulder. You never thought you were one to dress overly modest, but Emma makes you feel a little cold. She's at home in fishnets and a short leather skirt, smacking gum with a little exaggeration. You're pretty sure she'd be able to take Kid in a fight though, there's something about her that just screams moxie and danger. "She means you need some good lacey numbers. Something someone can appreciate before they tear it ta' pieces."

You feel the heat rise to your face and into your ears. "I – that's, I mean, no one's, there's, I'm not, it's," you stammer uncontrollably for a moment.

"If there t'weren't no one, you wouldn't be so red, Fidget." House teases.

You start to say something but there's the sound of boots in the hall, and eventually a familiar voice calls down the hall.

"You three almost done in there?" Kid asks, coming toward the bedroom.

"NOPE!" You slam the door, almost in his face, and then stand in mortified silence for a moment.

House is grinning ear to ear, and Emma's got her hands over her mouth, but the look on her face isn't too dissimilar from House's. Your so red between your earlier mortification, and current growing embarrassment that you can feel your face sweating.

"Mouse?" There's a little irritation in Kid's voice, but not much.

"Fidget doesn't want'cha ta see her underwear, Cap'n Kid!" House calls out. "Nothing personal!"

"Unless that's all she's wearing I don't see the-."

"Can we please stop talking about my underwear!"

You put your hand up to your face, and even with the door closed you're pretty sure you can imagine the look on Eustass' face. You, House and Emma finished up shortly after, and when you opened the door you see Eustass was still standing there, smug look on his face.

You try to glare at him, but you can't manage it. You could feel the heat rising in your face again and step past him with a simple, "we're all done now." As you head out of the apartment for some fresh air.

You could hear Kid, House and Emma talking as you made your way outside.

"Got everything?" He asks, looking to Emma and House. Each of them had two suitcases a piece.

"I think we've managed to fit every scrap of clothing Fidget has."

"Fidget, huh?" Kid muses.

"You already bought me a plush mouse," you holler back into the apartment. "Don't go changing my nickname now."

You were too far away to see the blush on Kid's face, or the death glare he was giving House and Emma.

"We got all the measurements we need," Wire says, as you came outside. "We'll get the lumber and do the cuts at the shop and have a new frame and door up before the sun sets."

"I appreciate it." You say, looking back as Kid and the other came outside to join you. "All of it, thanks."

"If we left you on your own and you got gobbled up by a cat, we'd feel bad, Mouse." Kid teases, ruffling your hair.

"See? This is what makes me feel... like a... the hell is that?" You question, looking at something coming toward you. It wasn't going fast, and it looks like a paper airplane. There wasn't much wind, but it was making its way for you. You look around to see if there were any kids playing and take a step toward it.

You got close enough to grab it when your hand freezes. You freeze. Your breath is caught in your throat as the paper airplane gently brushes your shoulder and drops to the ground. You look down at it, eyes wide, and face pale.

Your name is scrawled along the top of the paper airplane in angry, hard pressed pencil lead letters. You look around in a panic, but there wasn't anyone else nearby, kids or otherwise. There was no vantage point nearby that was high enough for a paper airplane to have glided any great distance, especially not to bump into you with such precision.

Kid picked it up, anger rolling off him before he even unfolded it. His eyes scan the letter, and you look up at him while he reads it. Killer is behind you, hands on your shoulders. Kid is so angry by the time he finishes reading the letter, you couldn't hardly look at him.

"What's it say?" You ask quietly as Kid hands the letter off to Killer. Your stomach's in knots, and you're shaking a little despite your efforts to keep yourself calm.

"Nothing you need to read, Mouse." Kid says. His voice was barely controlled, and his tone and words make you nod in agreement.

"It's... it's from him, isn't it?"

"Yeah Mouse."

"... He isn't going to just give up." Killer says after a moment, folding up the letter and tucking it away.

"No, he's not." Kid agrees, and you could hear the hydraulics of his metal arm groaning as the prosthetic fist clenches in anger.