Numb [Sam]

With his head down, Dire continued to walk on with no regard of anything.
This was on his shoulders.
He hated that.
"Why do you believe in me so much? I just let a bunch of innocent people die..."
He broke off in tears again.
He felt hopeless.
All he wanted to do was help.

He stopped.
He looked down at his own katanas, and his two pistols.
He used to think they were wicked sick and amazing.
Now...
He just saw all the lives he took.
Innocent lives.
The amount that makes this massacre look like a scratch.
He was no different than the kid.
He really can't change.
He never can.
Never will.
"Ya know... If I could get rid of these powers in exchange for all the lives I've taken, I would without hesitation."

*

Dire listened to Sam intently, though he found it very hard to believe her.
Wallowing in self-pity was just the thing he was good at!
He did believe it wasn't helping them find the kid though...
Well, that's what she ended up saying anyway.
"Yeah, but after I make sure those people at the hospital are okay... I've gotta know."

Once they arrived, he sighed.
They'd been in there for around 30 minutes, so all the critical ones would be in care and the moderate and mild conditions would be waiting.
He looked at Sam, "Well... How about we meet up tomorrow? Then we could figure out our next move."

*

Dire nodded at Sam as she left, hurried over something.
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Dire walked into the hospital in costume.
He felt he deserved any flack he would get for what he did.
That didn't change the fact that he needed to check on the people there.
He walked up to the desk, "Hi, I'd like to see the people injured in that train crash, please..."
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After going around seeing the varying degrees of injury and pain that was caused, his final visit was the wife that he carried out when the fire started...
Turns out she was in pretty bad shape.
Three broken ribs, a broken arm, fractured ankle, concussion, and third degree burns on her face.
He sat down by her, biting his lip. He never felt bad seeing someone like this. He was usually the cause of it happening.
The woman looked up and smiled.
"Thank you..."
Dire just shook his head.
"Is Nathan okay? My son."
Dire nodded.
"My husband?"
Dire nodded again.
"Oh thank God." She sighed, you could tell there was a huge burden taken off of your shoulders.
After a long, sullen silence, Dire spoke up.
"I didn't know there was so much wrong... I would've carried you a bit more careful..."
She shook her head, "No need to be sorry, you saved my life. I'm lucky to have gotten away with this much."
Dire nodded and stood.
"I hope you have a quick recovery."
As he walked out, she called "You're my hero!"
He turned and pointed back at her, "Now, that, I am not."
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As he was walking out, he caught a lot of awkward glances.
He realized the tape from the rooftop was playing on the news.
He was headed out until he heard something that utterly pissed him off.
"Oh, there's the so-called hero who can't do his job."

Dire stopped.
His red irises flared.
He turned heel on the man, cloak flowing in the wind of his speed.
Even though this man was probably one-hundred pounds heavier and five inches taller than Dire, he picked him up by his collar off the ground.
"Can't do my job? I can't do my FUCKING job?!" He yelled, slamming him against the wall.
"What'd you expect?! Me to pop the kid in the dome! Right then and there?! Is that the better option?!"
The man stood, "My wife and son are in there because of you!"
"IF IT WEREN"T FOR ME YOUR WIFE AND SON WOULD BE DEAD YOU INSIGNIFICANT WORM!!!"
His voice sounded like all the voices screaming in hell joined together for a perfectly harmonious chorus coming from all directions.
Everyone fell completely silent.
Even Dire.
He didn't know where that came from.
He didn't think he was an insignificant worm.
Even if the man were pissing him off, he would've said something like "asshole", or something like that.
Dire looked at the now startled man.
He looked down to see he had two kunais drawn.
He never did that.
Did he?
Panicked, he left the hospital.
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After waiting until nighttime, he called Sam.
He TOTALLY got it for work purposes and TOTALLY not for late-night booty calls.
"Hey, sleeping beauty. If you could sleep, that is. Call the ambassador and tell her we're on his tail. I would do it myself, but she has my number blocked. She's just mad I didn't think our date went well. Dire over and out."
As soon as he hung up the phone, the man who submitted the footage of Dire and Sam on the rooftop walked into his office.
When he turned the lights on, the man found Dire sitting at his desk with his feet propped up on the nice glass desk.
"Nice office. Really like the modern touch. Never was a fan of the old school stuff."

The man's eyes went wide as he scrambled for the door.
Using his speed, he caught the man in a one handed choke-hold.
"Who're you running from, bud? It's just your friendly neighborhood mercenary."
He said as he teleported to the roof.

On the roof, Dire was dangling the man off the side.
"Now, I know you have back-alley cameras. So why don't you show them to me?"
The man just continued to hysterically yell and scream.
"What's the matter? Your camera not up here recording all this, so you're incapable of being a blood sucker?! WHERE ARE THE CAMERAS?!"

*

"To make sure doesn't do anything he might come to regret."

Just as that was said, Dire smiled.
"Thank you!" He said cheerily as he dropped the columnist off the roof to his death.
The man hit the ground with a sickening splat.
Dire reeled his head back and laughed, "O-ho-ho, MAN! That was just gruesome! I love my job..."
He took his leather gloves off, and stuck his hands in the blood pooling up from the man.
"I was always the best finger painter around."

After doing what was probably the tenth most disgusting thing he's done, he sat down at the man's desk and opened up his computer.
He was going through the camera's all through the building, as well as behind and beside.

When Sam would arrive, there would be the words "Come on in!" written in blood on the doorway.
When Sam would enter, Dire would be dancing to "I'm Bad" by Michael Jackson with prestine Michael Jackson dancing.
"Because I'm bad, I'm bad! and the whole world has to answer right now just to tell you once again, who's bad!"
He would then point to the computer that shows the kid they were looking for.
His face and all.
"Now, before you get you panties in a bunch, that guy slipped out of my hands. Also! We didn't hit a dead-end, but you've gotta come with me to my apartment... All the way in L.A."

*

Dire stifled a laugh when Sam began to float off the ground.
"That's a pretty cool trick, hope you don't think I'm scared or anything."

He walked over to the radio and plugged it back in, turning it down so they could hear each other.
"I forgot this is where we clash in morals. See... I ACTUALLY didn't mean to kill that guy. I was dangling over the edge of the building so I could get the password to his computer. I was using it as a scare tactic. It's not my fault the little..." He balled his fist and growled before taking a breath to calm himself, "He kicked himself out of my hand willingly. I had him, he didn't want to be had. Sorry for his luck."

He plopped down in front of the computer monitor and checked the front cameras.
"Seriously?! You had to call the cops?" He asked exasperatedly.
"I mean, yeah... Maybe I DID want him dead, but not enough to come all the way out here to kill him. If I REEEALLY wanted him dead, I would've sniped him from long range. Happy enough? Good. Now let's go before they storm in here and try and arrest me."

He was about to leave when he stopped.
"By the way, IF you decide that you're not on my side. If you TRY to bring me in. Even if you do get me in jail... People will die. Whether it be the cops trying to arrest me, the judge persecuting me, the inmates in jail, or the crazy people in the psych ward. People will die. So, they can either die for a good reason, or die for a bad reason."

After he went on that rant, his heart panged. He hated that. Everything he said. Even though it was true, he didn't want to believe it.
"Look... I don't want to be against you. You're a great person. I'm not saying that my way is right, but it's the way it's gonna happen. So, don't make me kill more than I have to. Don't make me kill those cops. Let's just get on with our investigation. Please?" He held out his hand, ready to teleport to his apartment.
With or without her.

*

Dire listened to what Sam had to say and stood for a moment, then looked down.
He then threw his head back, laughing to the point of tears.
"That-heh- that's the funniest thing I've ever heard! I'm glad to see we're on joking terms now! Let's get going, you ol' kidder!"
After seeing Sam not taking his hand after that, he realized she was being dead serious.
"Wait, you're not joking? Turn myself in? Just because someone died because of me?!"
He was starting to get mad.
"I kill people almost daily! The police have linked me to HUNDREDS of crimes- HUNDREDS! Then there's the ones they HAVEN'T linked me to, almost in the thousands! So that's saying 'Willingly die for a murderers sake'. I'm saying no. I will NOT turn myself in."

After saying that, he paused and began to think about something.
His eyes widened, thinking of all the people he had sent there himself.
All the family members of inmates he killed.
He would get destroyed.
Immediately.
What a challenge!
"Okay, fine. I'll do it on three conditions."
He put up his middle finger.
"One: You visit me for 3 months. Every single day."
He put up his pointer finger.
"Two: We stop at one place before I do so."
He put up his ring finger.
"Three: I get to bring two items in with me. A pencil and a piece of paper. You can examine them and see that it is NOTHING but a pencil and paper."

He held out his hand to shake.
"If you agree to my terms, I'll agree to yours. Do we have a deal?"

*

Dire looked down, dejected as Sam shook his hand.
He honestly thought that she would say no.
He didn't want to go to jail, but he was a man of his word.
Most of the time...
This was something he would hold true to, though.

As Sam was shaking his hand, he teleported the two to his apartment.
The inside was rather nice.
No mess what-so-ever, a modern look.
A bookshelf over in the corner, glass coffee table, nice couch.
It didn't look like the place a mercenary would sleep.
He plopped down in front of his computer and hooked up the flash drive he made of the files from the back alley camera.
He began hacking into the CCTV cams from the rest of the city, following him back to his house.
"Got ya..."
He never acknowledged Sam, or even paid attention to the fact she was there.
He put his lethal guns down and pulled out his dart guns.
He would be sure this kid didn't get hurt.
After an entire trip to his apartment, he looked at Sam.
"Right after we book this kid, we have one place to stop. No matter what you do, do NOT wear that stupid superhero outfit. You will die. Immediately."

*

Dire just rolled his eyes and threw his head back.
"It wasn't a part of our deal that I told you where the place was, now was it?"
Dire had officially given up on trying to Sam's friend.
He decided to begin trying when she visited him in jail.
That was such a strange concept to him.
Jail.
Dire.
It didn't go together.

"It's where I'm going to get my pencil and piece of paper."
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The CCTV cams led the two straight to the kid's front door.
Dire banged on the door and looked at Sam, "I wonder if this kid likes Girl Scout Cookies..."

*