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Alex just wasn't himself anymore. Not after bearing witness to his mother's brush with death at the hands of a bullet from a stranger. She was prone, laying against the hard and cold concrete of her downtown office building staring blankly at the unending sky overhead. Blood blossomed from her chest and her strength leaked out of her, spreading a blanket of crimson across the steps. Alex was rendered helpless, crying out for help. Johnny could just imagine hoping beyond hope that her life would not slip through his fingers like so much sand. The shriek of police sirens would be a godsend only in the back of his mind. A mother lay dying and clutching her close, trying desperately to scoop the life back into the hole burst through her chest. Ambulance lights and police were dulled and forced to his peripherals, muted with cotton in his ears.

The boy with snow blue hair knew a portion of what that was like, what those feelings felt like, the thoughts that would erupt in the heart and soul of the witness. Of the relative. Of the child. But he did not benefit from his parent living through the disaster - Johnathan's father committed suicide the day after the New Year began and would never be seen again. His mother would not be the same, his family would not recover.

In the weeks after his father's death, Johnny tried desperately to heal and to move on. His father would want it that way, no doubt. He would cry and lean on them for days at a time but his chin would always be up. It was for Lily and for Alex that he pulled strength from the inner depths and pressed on. But now, Johnny realized, his own healing would have to take a back seat for Alex. His mother was nearly murdered and the blonde was still reeling from it. The police would take to long to find the person who did this, Johnny thought, and Alex was in no shape to take the necessary steps to seeking revenge.

Johnny would have to do it for him. For his General.

It terrified the boy to see his best friend as a shadow of his former self - no kind smile, no delicate words of encouragement. The blonde's eyes were dead and his soul was torn in two, exhausted from the stay at the police station for questioning and at his mother's bedside to watch her chest rise and fall. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. Alex didn't do anything to deserve this. When Johnny's questions and frantic energy were ignored, a lump formed in his throat and a weight made itself home in his stomach. Limbs went cold and ice flowed through his veins. He panicked. Johnny could only think of finding the man who did this and to end him.

The television had been on all morning, Johnny staying up late the night before to swim through pages of Google to try and find details about the shooter. Public records and tips from witnesses produced a sketch that was shown on television an hour before Alex came home - it described a Caucasian man, mid-to-late fourties, stocky build and average height. He was on foot in a white hoodie for the initial attack and witnesses described a black or a very dark SUV as the getaway vehicle. Partial plate XTZ but Johnny highly doubted the vehicle would contain the shooter. He'd watched enough crime shows to know it's likely the vehicle was dumped somewhere remote and the shooter escaped on foot.

While it wasn't enough information to easily pinpoint the shooter, Johnny didn't care. His mind was racing, his heart pounded. All he could think about, all he could see and breathe was finding the shooter and exacting revenge for torturing Alex, his General, in this way. Surely Alex would be happy. Surely he would.

And so, the thought of donning his uniform in broad daylight suddenly didn't matter. Johnny didn't care that he'd be more easily spotted - he could find shadows. Alleys. He could hide easily. He was stronger, faster, more capable that cowards like the man who did this to Alex and his mother. The boy disappeared through an open window while the blonde was in the shower, not to be seen again.


~~~


Daylight proved to be Bazzite's enemy but he took it in stride, mind honed in like a blade on his objective. The Captain perched himself on windowsills and fire escapes, flower beds and air conditioning units, trailing the police he was able to find in an effort to discern more information on the case. A manhunt had been called for the suspect, details emerging every so often from police band radios. Bazzite was quiet enough to get close to a police car parked on the side of a building to listen.

"The vehicle has not yet been found. Investigators currently looking through the work history of the victim. Suspect likely knew her..."

Likely knew her?

From what Bazzite understood, Alex's mother was a corporate laywer responsible for handling civil cases involving large and small businesses. Alex had mentioned his mother had been working on involving a large chain department store and a small mom-and-pop local business. The boy didn't say how the case had gone but at that moment, it didn't matter. Bazzite had his hunch and scrambled to the rooftops, carefully avoiding too much sun and too much exposure. He didn't want his cover blown. Hours had gone by and he had not eaten.

In an alley where the Captain had taken a short nap, a large metal door swung open and two fat men with cigars and chef hats sauntered out for a smoke break. Like a lizard did the Captain jump up, wait and then slither his way inside to snatch a plate meant for a wealth political donor. Bazzite had no idea what it was - some kind of fish dinner by the smell of it. The Captain knelt behind heavy steel countertops while the music of a five-star kitchen carried on around him. When the two fat chefs returned and the door to freedom swung open, Bazzite dashed forward and used a clumsy waiter's legs as cover. He was out the door again, scrambling up a fire escape to enjoy his catch. He had to rest for a while before hunting again.

Fifteen minutes later, the car pulled into a small parking lot in front of Springvale Apartments. Bazzite stopped on the building across the street, watching. Waiting. He couldn't hear what the couple was saying but he could discern the tone - angry, bitter, desperate. The woman practically had to carry the man to the middle of the building where foliage and shadows made them disappear. Bazzite made his way over shortly after, hiding in a large, full tree in the apartment's green space. The couple stumbled into apartment 205.

He could hear shouting and things behing thrown from within the apartment walls. More shouting and suddenly things went quiet. Did they know the neighbors would call the cops? Had they already? Dammit. DAMMIT. What do I do now? What do I do?! Bazzite's heart raced, his mind was out of control. He bit his lip and leaped to the rooftop to think. He had to think.

It was not half an hour before the tingling on the back of his neck alerted him to someone else's presence. She had shrieked at him from somewhere on his left. Bazzite looked up from his perched position overlooking apartment 205 and narrowed his eyes. Now is NOT A GOOD TIME.

"Stop right there!" came a cry. Bazzite couldn't believe this. She was a rank lower than himself - he outmatched her. He had more important things to do! She wore lilacs and blues, sparkles and shimmers that reflected the light of the setting sun. Flowing red hair crowned her head, spreading like fire as she closed the distance between them. Her heels were not as bright as her eyes, eyes that flaired with determination and strength. Bazzite hated those eyes. "As a Sailor Senshi, it is my duty to stop you! You're from the Negaverse, aren't you?! Stop what you're doing and submit to justice!"

Bazzite growled at her. "I don't have time for this! Leave! I'm not here to mess with you!"

She looked taken aback. How dare he speak to her in that manner! Pointing a white-gloved finger at him, she didn't seem deterred. "It doesn't matter - you're messing with something. That's what you Chaos people do! All you care about is yourselves. You'll hurt anyone who gets in your way! Well I'm here to---"

The Captain had never felt anger like this before. It was a fire, building up inside his gut and threatening to burst from ever pore in his body. He shook, arms giving out to tremors. In one fluid movement, something Schorl would be proud of, Bazzite had his hand over her mouth and used his momentum to knock her on her back. The look in her bright eyes was like a lamb coming to realize she had lead herself to the butcher.

And the butcher wore black.

"You. Will. Be. Quiet." came an order through clenched teeth. Bazzite thought his anger would subside once he subdued her. Maybe he would scare her off with fire in his eyes and the sweat on his brow. He was on a mission of the utmost importance and the last thing he wanted was to be interrupted. "YOU. Will turn around and go home. Now."

Lifting his hand, the senshi spat in his face. "You don't scare me, Nega trash! I'm Sailor---!"

Hand. Dark energy. Suddenly his shuriken were in his knuckles and tears were in his eyes. Didn't she see? Didn't she understand? Alex was so hurt, so vulnerable. He was in so much pain and the opportunity to end that pain was a mere forty feet below them and in apartment 205. Benitoite would be so proud. He would be so relieved to know the man who did this to his mother had paid for his crimes and paid in a way civilian justice could never offer. Every muscle in the boy's body tightened, his senses heightened to a fever pitch and frenzy. Why doesn't she understand? There was a murderer in there! If Alex's mother died in the hospital, Alex would be gone forever. His mother was everything. Alex would be gone and there would be nothing anyone could do! Not Lily, not himself, not anyone! NOT ANYONE!

"STOOOOP!" he screamed, clenching his eyes painfully shut and slammed his fist into the senshi beneath him. NotanyonenotanyoneAlexcan'tgoshecan'tdiewhydidyouhavetodothiswhycan'tyoujustgoHOME!

The senshi started screaming. Bazzite opened his eyes and found his shuriken lodged in her eye socket. Her body convulsed and she was gasping for air, arms and hands clawing at her face in panic and pain. She spasmed and gasped, screaming and raking her hands at the ground. She sobbed and blood poured out of her destroyed eye. She was panicking. Bazzite knew her screaming would draw attention so he climbed on top of her to pin her by the wrists.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME OH GOD OH GOD OH GOOOOOOD!"

The Captain gasped, swallowing the bile and his stolen lunch to keep from vomiting all over her. God she wouldn't stop screaming. So much blood and tears and screaming. The police would be here if the people in the apartments heard her. The police would then find the shooter and drag him away to jail and he'd await trial and burocractial bullshit paperwork wait times Alex on the stand takes too long takes too long too much pain Alex too much pain whywon'tshebequietpeoplewillknowshutupshutupSHUTUP!

Letting go of her wrists, Bazzite summoned more shuriken with a flicker of dark energy and clenched them in a white knuckle grip. The pool of blood grew thicker, wider. Bazzite was covered but the darkness of his hoodie would hide most of it. The smell was how Alex smelled when he came home from the hospital. Iron. Iron and metal and crimson. Stains. So many stains. Fifteen minutes? Twenty? Seven hours? How long had he been straddling her, pounding her face until her skin matched her hair? It was all meat. All meat. Just meat. Stopped screaming. Stopped moving. Meat and blood and pain and sobbing oh god why… why… why.

Dizzy. He felt oh so dizzy and licked his lips and tasted her there. She tasted of pain and suffering. She tasted of Alex's tormented soul and the people who did this to him were down there, waiting. Apartment 205. No starseed. He didn't take her starseed. Aurora would be so proud.