Mornin’. Care if I borrow your dryer? Hope you don’t mind me making breakfast.”

Quin had to laugh as she realized that Eisen was washing his shirt in her kitchen sink.

Eisen was well built, she also noticed, not muscle bound or overly cut…but still well built. Time would tell if he could also cook, but her decision to let him stay was seeming better and better.

”Oldest trick in the book…” she teased, ”But yes, you can.”

But first.

”How are your hands?” she asked, ”I got the first aid kit, but you’re already passed out by the time I got back with it.”

Rising from where she was leaning, Quin walked through the kitchen to a little door that opened to reveal a little laundry nook. ”Washer and dryer, help yourself.”

Eisen eyed the laundry nook — he was sure she wouldn’t mind him wearing his skin for a little while as he plopped his unaffectionately washed shirt into the dryer. He watched it tumble a few times, setting it on high heat — the neon spinning in the drum of the dryer.

Eisen then hopped back to the kitchen, where he had left the dirty dishes. “My hands still burn, but not enough to stop me from making a healthy breakfast!” He mustered a pep in his footsteps that resembled a man who hadn’t spent the last night in utter torment.

As he began to rinse the plates he’d soiled in preparing his breakfast, and he poured some dish soap from Quinn’s soap dispenser, A wave of uneasiness hit Eisen. The liquid soap conjured up the memories of a certain liquid that had oozed from the zombie-like creatures from last night.

Eisen dropped the cutting board he was rinsing in the sink. The clattering noise caused him to take a step back. He looked around the room, to Quinn, and back to the sink.

”Do you ever wonder… why it’s ok that some people make it through hard times… and others don’t?” Eisen let cool water run across his aching palms. The pain was a comfort, knowing he hadn’t made it through the night unscathed. And that he hadn’t left the night unscathed.

The dryer timer for his shirt went off, but Eisen stayed where he was, and hung his shirtless body over the sink.

”Well, I’m glad they seem to be a bit better.” Quin said as Eisen reemerged from the laundry nook and answered her question from earlier.

In fact, Quin thought as Eisen squeezed some soap out and went about washing his dishes, they were much better than she’d thought they’d be—

The cutting board clattered into the sink and Quin jumped, noting that Eisen had done the same thing. Then he was talking and the redhead crossed her arms across her stomach at his words.

”You’d be more than surprised at how often I wonder that.” she said, voice soft and breaking a little. Padding across the kitchen floor in her bare feet to stand a bit closer. It was the kind of situation where you would put a comforting hand on a friend’s shoulder, but were they even friends? Trauma buddies? Quin didn’t know what to do so she just stood close as he leaned down over the sink.

”I’d offer you a cup of tea, but it somehow feels too soon.” she said. ”I’d also still be happy to bandage up those hands if you’d like. They’re still awful red and burns get infected easily…”

Eisen watched the soapy water escape slowly down the drain, in a sink that wasn’t his, in an apartment that wasn’t his. In the hospitality of a stranger, all the near misses in his life surfaced like bubbles in a murky swamp. Sometimes he believed in fate, and other times, like right now, the cruelty of fate’s lack of favor pricked his conscience.

“We just left them.” Eisen felt Quinn’s closeness, a soft hovering warmth drift near him. He wasn’t one to dwell on the past, but as it stood, he hadn’t anywhere else to dwell at the moment. His burned hands a memorial of his inability to keep himself composed. 

He turned to Quinn, his eyes scanned her face. Unscathed, pristine, and more-or-less refreshed from a night of rest. Was it even allowed to be so unperturbed? Her offer to bandage his hands lingered in the air like second-hand smoke he didn’t want to breathe in. He recognized now, the distance and gap between their resilience. He almost feared her.

Raising his hands to her, he fought his own silence by stirring the air with a question. “Who are you?” He asked the question slowly, as if the words were unreliable in and of themselves. Fools like the one he displayed himself to be last night.

He rested his hands, palms up in front of her. Nodding slowly as if to indicate his hesitance didn’t contradict his consent.  He waited, almost for rejection, as he hoped his query into her identity didn’t sow any distrust between them. Not that there had been much to build trust on to begin with, he supposed. Yet he hadn’t any reason yet to deny any of her kindnesses.

Quin as Eisen commented that they’d left them behind, arms still crossed across her stomach as she thought about all of the people. ”But most of the clowns were…down…by the time we left.” she said, voice barely above a whisper as the memories bubbled up to the surface and she shuddered.

Eisen was looking at her now, and Quin found herself a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny. He was looking at Quin like...like she scared him.

“Who are you?”

If Eisen had known how deeply that question struck, Quin wondered if he would have asked it in the first place. There was no way he could know though, so Quin looked back at him brown eyes holding his for a long moment.

”I honestly don’t really know.” she said as he offered his hands, moving to grab the first aid kit before coming back to the kitchen and opening it up.

”For a long time I was somebody that people thought was pretty great.” she said, knowing it would be hard to explain why she was the way she was, ”Then…something happened and I couldn’t be that person any more.”

As she spoke, Quin went to work, cleaning the burns on Eisen’s hands.

”So I’m trying to figure out who I’m supposed to be now.”

Still holding Eisen’s hand, Quin looked at him again, ”Who are you?”

Eisen winced when Quin came back with the first aid kit. She cleaned his burns with a methodical certainty, as if she’d dressed wounds before. Unafraid of other’s injuries. Though by her explanation, a certain hurt lingered in her past that seemed to hide in the creases of her lips and the shadows beneath her eyelids. Had she lost a job? Underwent a certain social death? Have her identity stolen? Eisen wasn’t sure he could let his curiosity roam freely in this moment, but was impeded from letting it wander by her returning his question.

”Me? Depends on who’s asking.” Eisen clasped his palms together, pressing the dullness due to his singed nerve endings together. Then he signed deeply.

“An asshole probably.” Eisen chuckled to himself and let her continue with his hands. The smell of his breakfast casserole began to fill the air of the room, just as the early rays of dawn crept into the apartment. He then looked at Quin’s face, really looked. There wasn’t much else to do in the still and quiet hours they rested in. The only moving parts of the moment were her hands on his.

”You’re a student, right?” He’d meant to ask the “who are you” question in a more simple format. He remembered seeing some textbooks in her living room and could have sworn the couch was laced with test-taking anxieties. The fact he had passed out in her apartment also hadn’t yet been forgotten by him. And so far, he hadn’t felt as if he’d overstayed his welcome. 

“Must be studying law, or medicine. Your parents got money?” If Quin perceived an edge to Eisen’s questions, it came from a place of lack and ignorance. School had never been a priority of his, and he could not wrap his mind around paying to learn the same things at the same time as other people.

“An asshole probably”

At the deflection, Quin gave Eisen a deadpanned look and continued with his hands. Eisen had done a pretty good number on himself, but still apparently wasn’t in the mood to share more about himself.

He guessed that she was a student and Quin nodded, trying to decide if it was worth it to really try and explain who and what she was. People tended to take it different ways. Guys were freaked out sometimes, thinking she was catfishing in some weird way because she was supposed to be older. Most people didn’t know what to say at all.

Eisen asked her if her parents were rich and Quin had to laugh as she thought of them. ”Law…and no, they’re teachers. Poor as church mice.” she was done with Eisen’s hand now and let it drop, turning so she could lean against the counter. Whatever he had decided to cook smelled good.

”Remember the big human trafficking ring about six years ago?” Quin said softly, ”The one where there was a drug, to make people younger…more marketable.”

Quin took a deep breath, she wanted to finish talking before Eisen could respond, ”I worked here, and before that as a cop. I guess I broke the whole case wide open, but somehow I got picked up by the bad guys in the process and by the time they found me…it was too late. I can’t remember anything…” she whispered. Her clothes had been filthy, her face had been covered in blood and dirt, and she’d had marks on her wrists and ankles. No lasting damage, but it still made her stomach twist a bit to think about it.

This was the tough part, ”It was temporary for some people, but I lost over a decade, woke up nineteen in an actual cage with no idea where I was. Nothing has come back in six years and they don’t think it ever will.”

Quin looked over at Eisen, ” Because of who I was here. They set me up with this space…I got into law practice instead of law enforcement and I’ve been interning with Senator Lanyi while I finish up.”

Eisen waved his newly bandaged hands in the air, his fingers a little less mobile than before. As he listened to Quin’s story, he vaguely remembered the details of the incident of people en masse getting turned back into younger versions of themselves. This had happened just as he got tangled with the mutant underground fight scene— one of their fighters, a shapeshifter by the name of Chimera, had suddenly disappeared and reappeared as a younger version of himself. That had been a tragic end to his career, as no one took the shifter seriously after that, even when he regained his age and came back — it had been too much for him to had lost himself.

He didn’t know what to say to Quin. He smiled, and gave her a silent thank you. 

“So… you really meant it when you didn’t know…” Eisen scooted out towards the oven, the details of Quin’s story swirling in his mind. He furrowed his brow, taking her backstory like a huge gut punch. Was he to respond in sympathy? Was he to respond in jest, to lighten the mood? He opened up the oven and slid on a pair of oven mitts, before he took out the baked concoction of breakfast foods and set it to cool on the stovetop.

”I’m jealous.” Eisen said, realizing that even after all she’d gone through, there were people who still cared enough to take care of her. That’s where her strength came from, wanting to be a hero in the midst of the zombie scene. People actually saw her as important — whereas he had just wanted to run. Because he had no where else to go and no one important to be… at least Quin had a past that backed her up. Him? What did he have but an insatiable appetite for adrenaline, and a defunct one at that now.

“Wish I could just forget the past six years of my life and start over. It’s not like anyone would miss me anyway — hell you even get to go to school again. Live in a fancy apartment. Meet people for the first time and have a valid excuse for it all.” Eisen folded his arms and rested against the counter top. He’d been trying forget how much of a loser he was… but even with all his talk about wanting to start over, New York was the only place he truly knew. And he was scared, scared to figure out what else he could accomplish with his life.

Quin nodded absently when Eisen pointed out that she was being literal. Then he was pulling out the breakfast casserole and setting it on the counter. At least he’d grabbed oven mitts instead of burning his hands this time.

But then Eisen said something that made Quin’s head jerk around to look at him.

”I lost an entire life Eisen…a good life.” Quin said, thinking of the things that people had told her, ”I had done things, I had loved people.” crossing her arms across her middle, Quin shook her head. ”My parents are old…”

She looked around the apartment, ”I didn’t pick any of this out. I just got stuck here and asked what I wanted to do next while everyone told me how amazing I used to be.”

Quin sighed, ”I am lucky that I had somewhere to go and people to take care of me though. You’re definitely right about that.”

It was silent for a few moments as Quin mulled things over in her head, ”You could still start over if you wanted. What’s stopping you? You met me last night and that went alright all things considered…”

Eisen placed the casserole on the countertop, wanting to dig right in, as the smell took him back to the nights with Xia, in their little house— his two dads had gone on a roadtrip and he invited her over to spend the night. They were friends back then, and only friends, nothing more. Breakfast for dinner — one of his favorites— and there they had dreamed of going to the city and seeing the sights, becoming something more than kids tossing graffiti on concrete slabs, running from the cops, living life through alibis and code names and lots and lots of drugs. 

How Eisen had followed Xia to the mutant underground… how he built a name for himself, but only after giving his life to her, and followed her every move even when she made it clear he wasn’t her number one. Then, she died, and so did the life he’d built around her. The life he didn’t know was going to end, like the empty rattle of every used-up spray can.

Ever since, he’d never been the same. Maybe, it was because he never allowed himself to be — never allowed himself to see a world built by his own two hands. Eisen held the baked casserole in front of him, an allusion to times long before he learned regret was a life-sucking leech.

”You think last night went alright?” Eisen, hung his head over the casserole dish, a couple droplets falling into the steaming mass of baked breakfast supremacy, but he spun his face to wipe his eyes with the hope Quin didn’t notice. “If it weren’t for you, last night would have been just another night I drink to forget.”

Eisen rummaged Quin’s kitchen drawers to find a spatula, and tried to use it to section portions into the meal, but the bandages on his wrists made it difficult to grasp the utensil well. Frustrated, he laid the spatula down and plopped his head onto his folded arms, resting it on the counter top. His gaze piercing the glass dish.

“There’s nothing to start over, anyway. What you’re helping me realize, Quin… is that even if I had run away last night… I’d have no where to run back to. Another party? So what? So, I can be a backdrop to someone else’s life?” Eisen inhaled and let loose a large exhale over the steam that rose above the pan, blowing it into Quin’s direction.

”You made me a hero last night, Quin. But that’s just the thing— that wasn’t me.” 

Did she think last night had gone alright? Last night had been a disaster, but so had so many other things. Disasters were just part and parcel for life these days. It did absolutely no good to dwell on the disasters because it was so easy to get bogged down.

Clearly Eisen hadn’t realized that yet.

When he put the spatula down and dropped his head onto the counter, Quin reached out and snagged a pot holder, dragging the dish towards herself. That done, she grabbed the spatula and started cutting pieces of the casserole.

”I think we’re both alive, and if you hadn’t grabbed a hot tea pot with both hands, you’d be in even better shape. You acted fast and smart. ” . Maybe it was her unique perspective on forgetting, but Quin wouldn’t have forgotten about it for anything, no matter how bad it was. Forgetting it meant you couldn’t learn from it, or do better.

Eisen was having some kind of revelation now though, and Quin let him have it, he’d said that he was jealous of her…but not having anything to fall back or rely on seemed like the kind of thing he wanted to change.

”So pick a new place to start, and go from there.” Quin said, ”That’s what I did.” she said, setting the spatula down. ”I don’t have any idea if it was the right place to start, or if I’m going in the right direction, but it’s something.”

“You made me a hero last night, Quin. But that’s just the thing — that wasn’t me.”

Quin frowned at that, looking over at Eisen where he leaned against the counter, ”Well it sure as hell wasn’t anyone else wielding that pool stick or running on air.” she said. ”That’s a pretty cool trick, by the way.” she said, pushing off the counter to grab some forks and plates from the cabinets and drawers.

Eisen scooted to the side as Quin picked up off where he had left off, slicing up the casserole for him, picking up the plates, spoons and forks, and reminding him of his contributions to the night. Under normal circumstances, within the buzz of a raging party, or most conversations that were full of flattery and empty compliments, Eisen would have been an expert at deflecting the moments where Quin pointed out that he hadn’t entirely been a submerged stick in the mud.

Though being told that quick thinking and air walking were nice tricks still didn’t do much to breath life into his deflated ego, Eisen did perk up his ears as his face remained mounted on his folded arms. In as much as he couldn’t claim a Medal of Honor for his services last night, neither could he disqualify himself from any lauds. The sheer volume of sounds, dangers, decisions and the like, truly muddied his memory of their night together, yet as he watched Quin move around in her own kitchen, a moment of gratitude that they no longer weren’t surrounded by vicious clowns finally hit him.

Eisen accepted a plate and a fork from Quin, then proceeded to pick up a slice of casserole, holding the spatula in a way that didn’t require much effort. He looked up at Quin, “one piece or two?” Before he retreated back into the silence of the morning. The two of them breathing in Quin’s kitchen; the cool AC brushing against his shirtless torso, and soon, the clinking of silverware against their plates.

“Maybe I don’t need to be a hero to be somebody…” He broke the silence after taking in what Quin had to say. Pick a new place and start from there If only Eisen knew how to pick on his own… but maybe that was just it. It didn’t matter where he picked as long as he picked it.

Soon, Eisen’s face melted as his tastebuds registered the flavors of home and times spent unworried about the future. He breathed in every bite like it was oxygen stolen from another world, that filled him with a new life, and maybe even a flicker of hope.

“Thanks… for letting me crash here… Quin.”

If it was strange that Quin was standing in her kitchen with a shirtless almost-stranger while he served her breakfast casserole with bandaged hands, she didn’t notice. ”One is fine.” she said, taking the plate when it was offered.

Regardless of what he could or couldn’t do in a fight, Eisen could make a pretty darn good breakfast casserole. Honestly, in the grand scheme of things the cooking was probably the more important skill.

Maybe he didn’t need to be a hero? Hadn’t Quin just said that he’d been one?

The redhead mulled that over, wondering why Eisen was so bound and determined to be so…fatalistic. They’d survived, pretty much unscathed from the whole situation after all.

Taking another bite before setting her plate down on the counter, Quin thought for a moment.

”I have pretty limited experience with this…but from what I know, heroes aren’t heroes because they try to be or because they do everything perfectly. A hero just does something that needs to be done when other people won’t do it. You did that last night.” she said softly.

“Thanks…for letting me crash here…Quin.”

”Thanks for not leaving me at the bar. ” she said.