Frustration had become one of the key elements of Davyn's life.

After his talk with Phillip, he decided that bossing Nicholas Harkin around was a lot more industrious than going insane and throwing himself off a building. So when Nicholas next came calling, Davyn agreed to return, but on slightly different terms.

First, Phillip joined them, taking on the moniker of Firefox. Since he was the only person he could truly trust, Davyn had him verifying every scrap of information Baron fed him. He was also his continued link to Rachel and Simon since the three of them had figured out a means to pass on messages before Phillip disappeared.

Second, once fall approached, he decided to do something for his iffy future and go to college. Since he'd been admitted to his first choice university, namely MIT, he'd asked Simon to break into the system and change his name. Now, he'd attended university for a full year under the name Brian Dodgers.

But his studies, even if fascinating, proved to be quite useless when it came to practical things. After his experience with the Counters and witnessing Rachel's prowess, he thought he'd learn how to make substances that actually worked and served for something. Instead, it was copious amounts of theory interrupted by lab works, which created the most basic of things.

As summer rolled around and Davyn returned to Chicago to personally check on his crime empire, he found himself analyzing samples of the serum and stabilizer, hoping to reverse engineer the whole thing. Not that he wanted to remake the serum. Not by a long shot. What he wanted was some of the effects he'd noticed on Freider's kid.

Against his better judgment, he kept the kid under surveillance. He never did it personally. He didn't think he could be anywhere near them without throwing up in his mouth. But for scientific reasons, he'd had one of his better men keep an eye on his brother's family.

A few months after the baby was born, Freider sold the house and moved into a more modern stretch of the suburbs. Ron was forced to come along, and Davyn was glad to see that he was still alive and kicking, even if he spent most of his time away from home, in a boarding school.

The reports were vague unless something notable happened. So far, it hadn't. The child was normal, his evolution the one expected. There didn't seem to be any development issues or odd behavior, and that was the only thing Davyn cared about.

Not the family, not their new house or the bliss that seemed to have befallen them. That was not his problem. Let them be happy until he figured out a way to crush them. His now chosen line of work and study would provide ample opportunities. He just wished he'd be able to develop the drugs he wanted faster.

His obsession had gotten to the point where he'd installed complex chemistry equipment in his office. The building was finally no longer under construction, and he'd disguised it as a spiritual center for Jehovah's Witness. The religious order rented out the bottom floor, while Davyn used the rest of the stories for themselves.

There was a short knock on the door before Phillip let himself in. "Busy?"

Davyn heaved a sigh and pushed the papers he was reading away. "Yeah, but you can come in."

Since he was already inside, Phillip closed the door behind him and let himself drop on the couch in the corner, across the room from the improvised lab.

"I'm guessing you're still working on that."

"I wish Rachel were here." Davyn stood and walked to the desk holding his equipment. "She'd know what to do."

"She'd probably yell her lungs out at you first."

"I'm not trying to make the serum. I just want to figure out what exactly in its composition determines that extreme healing factor."

Phillip leaned back, his hands behind his head. "And you're basing all of this on a baby getting better."

"I'm basing all of this on a baby coming back from the brink of death in a matter of hours. He wouldn't have survived without the serum."

"I know this whole thing is a sentimental mess for you, so I have to ask. Are you sure?"

Davyn growled and headed for one of the filing cabinets along the wall. He pulled out a folder and tossed it at Phillip. "Sentimental nothing!"

Phillip opened it and frowned, letting out a low whistle. "Muscle dystrophy, reduced bone density, nearly blind, underdeveloped lungs, arrhythmia... You're not kidding. This kid shouldn't have lived."

"My point exactly. Freider saved his life when he approved the serum. I..." He faltered because he didn't like to think about his own implications in this.

"You're the one who saved his life. What your dumbass brother did was fry his brain with an evil super soldier serum."

"Don't say that." Davyn took the folder back and threw it inside the drawer. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"You know that I think you did the right thing. It would've sucked to let the Counters strip you of your revenge."

He let out a bitter laugh. "You shouldn't be encouraging my madness."

"Pfft, Rachel and Simon were always the good ones. You and I were the dark, crazy ones."

Davyn's stomach clenched uncomfortably. "I miss them."

"Me too," Phillip said, his voice much more subdued than usual. "They miss you too, ya know. But give it time. We'll all be together again."

Davyn nodded. He agreed that staying with the Counters was the smart choice for Rachel and Simon, but that didn't mean he didn't wish they would all be together, plotting against them. As it was, Davyn was scrambling for his sanity and could hardly plot anything against anyone at the moment. But he'd bide his time, and he knew he'd figure out the perfect plan eventually.

"I actually came to tell you that I'll be going to check what the deal is with the threats from those Asian assholes near the docs," Phillip said, standing. "I don't like what I've heard from the boys."

"We should just ignore it," Davyn said. "There are loads of threats and complaints, but they don't do anything in the end."

"I heard that these ones actually took a shot at one of the newer men. I just want to make sure we don't have to do anything about it."

"Yeah, okay." Davyn returned to his equipment and notes.

"Good luck with your secret formula."

"You won't be laughing when I figure out how to make this healing serum that I'm working on."

Phillip still laughed as he walked out, leaving Davyn alone with his newest obsession. Because that was what it always boiled down to. As long as he had something to obsess over, he could function, and at the moment, it was complex chemical formulas.

Time ticked by as he tried a different combination of substances, watching them drain through the vials, taking notes, and improving the formula or process. He needed more theoretical knowledge, so he couldn't wait to return to Cambridge. As a passing thought, he realized that today was August 29, so it was a year since Freider's miracle baby was born. What useless information to store...

With a shake of the head, he returned to his notes. The sound of hurried footsteps and agitated voices broke his concentration. He frowned and turned his attention to the door.

"Quickly..."

"We should take them to a hospital!" said a high, agitated voice.

"No fucking way," Baron snapped. "Not unless the boss approves it."

The door slammed open, and Baron burst in together with three other boys, carrying two bodies.

"Boss..." Baron was out of breath. "I think we need to--"

Davyn couldn't hear him anymore. His eyes had focused on the man draped over Baron's shoulder, dripping blood over his expensive suit.

It was Phillip.

The air seemed to have drained from the room.

Blood dripped on the floor, and for a moment, it seemed as though Phillip no longer had a face. Then, like lightning, sense snapped back into him.

"Lay him on the couch," he ordered.

Nicholas faltered, confused by the sudden change in attitude, but he compiled. Meanwhile, Davyn headed for a drawer and pulled out the medical kit. As he rushed back to the couch, he threw a fleeting glance towards the other man. His face was also covered in blood and Davyn recognized him as Harvey, one of their newer but more experienced hires. He nodded towards the only armchair in the room, indicating that the man carrying him should place him there.

Then, he focused on Phillip. He seemed unconscious, and when Davyn dabbed at him with a cloth drenched in disinfectant, he did little but groan. It was better that way. It meant he was already numb from the pain and blood loss, so what Davyn was about to do would be less cruel.

"Boss, I think we should call an ambulance," Nicholas stuttered.

"No. No ambulance. No hospital," Davyn said, taking out a needle and fitting it with surgical thread. He had no time to explain that Phillip could not be taken to a place where he needed to be identified. The Counters wouldn't get their hands on him.

"But... What are you doing? Are you going to stitch him?"

That was exactly what Davyn was going to do. He wasn't great at it, but he'd had enough first aid training while preparing for their desert mission to close a deep cut.

With the blood washed out of the way, he realized it wasn't as bad as he'd first thought. There was a deep cut on Phillip's right cheek, spreading from the corner of his upper lip to the outer corner of his eye, fortunately sparing it. If Davyn closed it, he'd have an ugly scar but would survive. And it wasn't like a surgeon would do it differently. So he dug the needle into his best friend and began sewing.

"Press on Harvey's wound so that he doesn't lose more blood," he said, as he moved steadily.

There was complete silence as he worked, interrupted only by Phillip's weak groans. He didn't move or twitch, which was a blessing since Davyn did his best to make the stitches even and not make Phillip look out of a horror movie. It wasn't an easy task, and soon, his fingers shook. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to keep steady because once he was done, it wasn't over.

A couple of times, Baron shifted and huffed as if he'd wanted to say something but gave up before the words formed. What felt like an eternity later, Davyn secured the last stitch and finally lowered his hands.

His elbows and forearms hurt like a bitch, and his hands shook. Even so, he forced himself off his knees. Those hurt, too, numb from staying in such an uncomfortable position for so long. He almost toppled over but caught himself before Baron could touch him.

"Let's see Harvey now," he mumbled, wobbling towards the armchair.

Once he poured water on the man's face to wash away some of the blood, the sight of him would have turned Davyn's stomach if he hadn't already seen much worse.

The cut was much smaller, but deeper, and it had caught Harvey's left eye. An empty socket glared at them.

"Oh shit," the man next to him said before he turned around and barfed.

"Well said," Davyn mumbled.

His muscles still burned, but he picked up the needle and thread again.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Baron now sounded both disgusted and panicked.

"It's still a cut, genius," Davyn said. "He's bleeding out."

"But his eye--"

"Do you think he's going to grow a new one?"

Baron didn't answer, so Davyn got to work. As bad as the situation was, he was grateful that he had to sow a lot less this time. Maybe it was the warpy time that no longer made sense or the numbness he'd instilled into himself as he did the same to Phillip, but Harvey was done before Davyn could entirely compute what he was doing.

The blood loss was still a major issue, and a hospital was out of the question. He quickly analyzed the efficiency of a plan to steal some blood from a blood bank, but there was no time for that and it would lead to a complicated process. For the fraction of a second, a tremor caught hold of him. Then, he made up his mind, he headed for his desk, and picked up the vial filled with the substance he'd been working on. There was barely any of it, but he shared it between Phillip and Harvey, sneaking it between their lips.

After that was done, he let himself drop to the floor and leaned his back against the couch Phillip rested on. His eyes hurt. For a few blisful moments, there was silence.

"What do we do now?" Baron asked. His skin had a greenish complexion.

"Now you clean the vomit off the floor and secure the building before we all get cut down."

"No one followed us. We dealt with the ones who did."

"Better safe than sorry, Nicholas." He glanced at the other guy, but his name escaped him now. "I did the manual labor here, but I'm not going to clean that puke. Get on it."

The two men hurried out of the room and Davyn could let out a long, controlled breath. He still had trouble computing what he'd done.

Minutes later, two other men came in with a mop and bucket. They threw covert looks at the two wounded as they did their jobs, then left without a word. Davyn was grateful. He didn't know how much snark he had left in him.

"Did you see the look on their faces?"

He jumped and glanced upwards to look at Phillip. He still laid back, but was obviously awake.

"How's your face?" he asked.

Phillip ignored him. "There was clear admiration there."

"I think your brain seeped through that cut in your face. Admiration for what? I'm a wreck. Thanks for that, by the way."

"It always amazes me how you can be so smart and so fucking dumb at the same time." Phillip let out a sound that started off as a chuckle and ended as a groan.

"Don't overexert yourself. I just sowed your face back together."

"I figured that much. It hurts like hell."

They were silent for a few moments. Then, even if he knew it might be painful for Phillip to speak, Davyn still had to ask.

"What happened?"

"You stepped on a lot of big toes. We were met by a large group with swords. Fucking katanas, man." Phillip let out a sound which sounded a little joyful. "I never thought I'd end up running from the Japanese mafia. You need to be careful."

Davyn didn't like the sound of that. "You mean we need to be careful."

"Nah, man, I'm out." Phillip touched his face gingerly and winced. "I'm not going to risk my life for something neither you nor I truly believe in."

A knot planted itself firmly in Davyn's stomach at the thought of losing Phillip. "But you said--"

"I stand by what I said. In the year we've worked together I saw how good you are at this. A natural leader with a mind for rising above everyone and everything else. I'm not saying you should quit. It keeps you busy and the money is good."

"I don't need the money."

"I know that, too. It keeps you busy." Phillip shifted and winced. "Which is why I think you should keep going. Now you have work to do, figure out how to punish those bastards. You will find it entertaining."

"Phillip..." Davyn had no idea what else to say. After another year of grueling work, the former gang of high school bullies was even better organized, with clear protocols and targets. The reputation of Snitch Gravel had also taken the underworld by storm and he sure as hell didn't want to lose that. But he didn't want to lose Phillip either. He'd made that mistake once before.

"I said you should keep going."

"I'm not sure I want to if you leave. I mean--"

"Oh God." Phillip rolled his eyes and yelped in pain. After a few moments of quiet cursing, he pulled himself together. "Don't get all sappy on me. I'll still be around."

Davyn narrowed his eyes. "Doing what?"

"Other things for you. For us. Things that don't involve me rubbing elbows with your goons."

"Oh." That didn't actually sound like a bad idea. "I assume that means you'll be getting out of here."

"Oh yes. I'm the kind of man who prefers to be on the road anywhere. This was fun, just like the stint with the Counters, but I have no roots."

Davyn could understand that. He was a little like that, too. He was convinced that, should he not have to return to Cambridge in a month, he'd have felt suffocated in Chicago by then. It surprised him on some level that out of every corner of the US available to him, he'd decided to return here and turn his home city into his base of operation. Some ties were hard to cut, he guessed.

"Okay. I understand."

"We have a long way to go together, you and I," Phillip said. "I want to be around when you finally decided to go against the Counters."

"What makes you think I will?"

"They got your dad killed, Davyn. I know you. You're cooking up revenge. What you did with Freider's kid is not enough."

It was far from enough. Davyn still had no idea how he was going to do it, but he was just twenty. An entire life stretched ahead, and a brilliant idea would surely fall into place at some point. Another thought came to mind, one as disturbing as it was intriguing.

"Do you think they'll try to recruit Freider's kid?"

"Huh?" Phillip managed to twist to one side and glance down at Davyn. "You mean the Counters?"

"Yeah. The more I think about it, I get the feeling that they recruited me not because I was competent, but because they wanted to punish my father for betraying them."

"Did he even get to betray them?"

"I guess not. Did we?"

That was a very loaded question, so they spent another few moments in silence.

"When are you leaving?" Davyn finally asked.

"Not sure. Once my face heals enough. I thought it would be worse, to be honest. The pain is manageable and my muscles not as stiff as I thought they would be."

"Maybe you should know that I gave you that substance I was working on."

"Really? That accounts for the shitty taste in my mouth."

"I feed you an experimental substance and you complain about the taste?"

"Dav, it tastes like shit. You'd be complaining too. Put some syrup in it or something."

So like Phillip to focus on essentials. "I hope it fries your brain."

"No you don't, you softie."

Harvey stirred, effectively ending their conversation. Phillip pushed himself into a sitting position while Davyn got to his feet and rushed over.

"Ow. Wha--"

Davyn grabbed his wrist since his hand had gone straight for his face. "Don't touch it yet. The stitches are fresh."

Harvey blinked his remaining eye, looking grotesques. "Boss? What happened? My face..." He winced, but it only made him yell out in pain.

"Try not to move your face too much. That sword got you right in the eye."

"Which is not so bad, seeing it got my entire face," Phillip mumbled. "And I was so handsome, too."

The affirmation made Harvey give a light chuckle, but he turned serious. "That's why I see funny."

"Yes, that's why you see funny," Davyn agreed.

"You should change your codename now to something appropriate," Phillip quipped. "Since your dumb higher up is Baron, maybe you could one-up him. Go with something like Pirate King."

"Plunder Lord," Davyn said, trying to keep a straight face.

"Ah, shit," Harvey said. "I get the message. My eye's gone, innit? Not closed off."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Phillip said with a shrug. "It's a dangerous business."

"Which is why I will understand if you choose to leave," Davyn added.

He didn't want Harvey to go. Even if not too bright, the man showed signs of being the loyal kind, and what with Baron's shifting loyalties, he needed more of those. But after that night, it didn't feel right not to offer.

The man considered his words for a few seconds, rubbing his rugged chin. Then his good eye moved to Davyn and analyzed him. He probably looked a mess, covered in blood, with dark rings under his eyes, his fingers swollen, hands shaky.

"You sowed me up," Harvey declared.

Davyn didn't see the point in denying it, so he just shrugged.

"You didn't have to do that."

The affirmation had Davyn realizing that he'd slipped from his Snitch Gravel persona to his real one in front of a man who had no business knowing there were two people there. His expression hardened and a sneer filled his face.

"Why, Harvey, are you telling me what I can and can't do?"

The man sensed the shift immediately and straightened in the chair. "Of course not, boss. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. I didn't do it as a favor," Davyn spat. "Now, if you're well enough to walk, we should get out of here. It's been a long night."

Harvey and Phillip struggled to stand while Davyn gathered his documents to give his desk a semblance of order. Then, with a nod of his head, he invited both of them out. They still wobbled from the blood loss, but either it hadn't been so bad, or the substance he'd fed them had helped, because they could walk on their own.

The men outside the door faltered when they appeared. Without a word, they stepped aside, their heads slightly bowed. Davyn took the lead, his back straight and head held high, and headed down the stairs. Every man they met on the way did the same: a respectful nod of the head.

By the time they reached the ground floor and stepped out of the building, Davyn had noticed the pattern. He wasn't sure what it was supposed to mean.

"As I said," Phillip whispered to him. "Admiration."

"I'm not sure why that would be."

"My old friend, you stitched your men back together with your very own hands. How many leaders in the industry would do the same? I wouldn't hold me breath waiting for an answer."

As they headed further away from his crime den, Davyn wonder whether Phillip actually had a point. 

♣♣♣

Some interesting tidbit of information here and OMG Davyn actually having a friend and doing friendly banter with someone his own size.

Also, I know you were all excited to see more familiar characters. There is a time skip as well so it's been a while since the last chapter. Freider and his family are all doing great, so there's that.

We're inching closer and closer to the end so I hope you'll join me for the final stretch.