"Why are you with this druggie? Your Highness?"

A surprised laugh bubbled out of Culver's throat. "I like you,” he said. “The most practical question first. Well, Alana, this druggie’s name is Orion. I'm with him because he's saved me in more ways than one."

"You owe him your life? Your Highness?"

"Yes, I do." Culver turned and glanced at the bedroom door. “That, and my soul."

"Is he the Devil?"

"Quite the opposite, actually. He is my salvation. You should meet him when he's sober, you'll like him.”

"If he lives to see tomorrow, I definitely will. Your Highness."

“Okay, lets get to work then.” Culver pointed to the kitchen. “Do you mind filling up a bottle with rehydrating solution while I move him next door?”

Alana nodded, wondering what forces were in motion to make her cross paths with the Prince, of all people, and help him in some secret adventure. "If I go home, what do I tell my parents?" she wondered out loud. "Hey mom, I'm sorry I ran away but it's okay because the Crown Prince saved me from being beaten to death. I even learnt how to make ORS."

A heavy thump made Alana whip around. Her eyes popped out of her head and into the water pitcher at the sight of the giant Orion slung like a towel over the shoulder of the tiny Prince, who remained perfectly straight as he edged sideways out of the bedroom. "Sorry about the noise," Culver said, smiling sheepishly. "I bumped his head against the doorframe. He's kind of...large."

"H-h-his hair," Alana bleated. "It's t-trailing..."

"I'll wash it once he wakes up. Please grab the bag of medicine and my cellphone on your way out."

Still in shock, Alana quietly let Culver into the apartment and helped him tuck Orion into the bed. Once the necessary supplies for Orion had been brought over, Culver took off his hoodie and held it out to Alana. "Wear this," he said. "Luckily, both of us are similar in size. Here's the wig, my sunglasses and car keys. Carry makeup and a change of clothes with you. Pretend to be me and drive for at least ten minutes before parking the car wherever it's busy and there's a bathroom. Change into your clothes, get a cab and come back. After that, don't come over or call the cops no matter what you hear - just take care of Orion until I come and get both of you."
*
Culver's car hadn't even turned the corner when Orion's front door swung open.

Flattening himself against the bedroom wall, Culver pulled his hoodie lower. There were four of them, and so sure were they of their impending success that they hadn't even bothered to cover their faces. Two remained in the living room, keeping watch. The other two made a beeline for the bedroom, their eyes trained on the bed. The first man's gun crossed the doorframe.

Culver exploded out of his spot.

It was not the cries of pain that alerted the other two men to the chaos ensuing in the bedroom - it was the thuds of savage blows and the crunch of breaking bones. The first man tried to grab Culver from behind. Promptly, the latter launched the former over his shoulder, sending him flying into the pair running in from the living room.

Now the screaming started. Culver fell upon the four men like Tisiphone on a rampage. His small size worked to his advantage as he zipped in and out of the tangle of flailing limbs. The men found their guns to be useless - they couldn't even train their weapons on Culver long enough to take aim and fire. If something or someone did hit Culver, he didn't feel it - his mind was in overdrive, firing commands faster than his body could respond.

The last man standing of the four coiled his body and kicked as hard as he could. That last-ditch attempt to gain the upper hand found its mark on Culver's jaw, and the latter felt his lip tear open. Yet it was not enough to fell him. The man's face went white as he watched the hooded figure turn slowly, menacingly, the blood dripping from his chin only making him look more terrifying.

The very next second, it was over - like a pro wrestler, Culver grabbed him by the waist, lifted him into the air and hurled him into the dining table.

The crash finally snapped Culver out of his violent mode. Kneeling next to the only man conscious, he grabbed him by the hair to get his attention. "Call the remaining ones in," he hissed. "Don't keep me waiting. I have a deadline to meet."
*
Alana couldn't tell whether the silence she heard upon her return was more terrifying than the screams and shouts and even gunshots she'd been expecting.

Please don't let him be dead, she prayed as she rummaged in her ex-boyfriend's fridge for food. It was packed with beer cans and leftover takeout - not an appropriate diet for a convalescent. As she switched to searching the cabinets, something hit the living room wall with a muted thud.

So someone was alive. Resisting the urge to open the door and peek, Alana pulled out a dusty packet of ready-to-eat Spanish rice. "This will have to do," she mumbled, setting a pot of water on the stove.

A groan from the bedroom announced that her guest was awake. Alana emptied the rice into the pot before taking a glass of rehydrating solution to the bedroom. The giant was sitting up in bed, very confused, massaging his head while looking around with bleary eyes.

"Where am I?" he asked, noticing Alana's presence. "Who are you?"

"I'm your neighbor's ex-girlfriend," Alana answered. "You're next door."

"Why? Where's my friend?"

"He's in your apartment, I think. Here." Alana handed Orion the glass she'd been holding. "He's dealing with those men who were going to come for you. Some sort of ambush attack from what I could tell. Drink all of it, please."

Orion obeyed. "I didn't realize you two had grown that friendly," he commented.

"I wouldn't call us friends. He'll occasionally share food with me, but he won't let me do anything in return for saving my life. Except today."

There was a knock on the door - three quick raps, indicating that it was Culver. Alana sighed in relief as she got to her feet. "He's here," she said. "He'll answer all your questions."

Alana opened the door and gasped. Culver stood in the doorway, panting and bleeding from multiple slashes on his torso. The left side of his face was swollen and discoloured and his bottom lip had split, spilling blood down his chin and onto his torn shirt. More scarlet trickles ran down the sides of his face.

"It's not as bad as it looks," he said, stepping into the apartment.

"I don't think I have enough bandages here," Alana responded, eyeing his bloody knuckles.

"How's Orion?"

"Awake, and worried sick about you. Do you mind if I order something from your phone? The food in the fridge is stale, and there isn't enough fresh stuff for you and me."

"Sure." Culver handed Alana his phone, which had miraculously survived the battle with only one crack on the screen. He literally bounded into the bedroom, and Alana followed, curious.

She had never seen the Prince smile the way he did when he saw Orion. All his exhaustion and pain evaporated from his face as he plopped onto the bed, sighing in relief.

"What have you done to yourself?" Orion asked, his sickly face turning even greener at the condition Culver was in. "Are you crazy? Where's your wig? Alana, I can explain -"

"I already know," Alana said. "I won't tell."

Culver cupped Orion's face with shaking hands, cutting off Orion's words. Swaying forward, he pressed his forehead against Orion's tenderly, almost reverently. "You're okay," he said, more to himself than to anybody else. "You're really okay. Haha."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Orion grabbed Culver as the latter collapsed against his chest. "Hey! Who did this to you?"

Culver's arms, now wrapped around Orion's waist, squeezed him tightly. "Give me a second," he said. "Those guys weren't as good as I am, but they sure hit hard."

They must be really close, Alana pondered, quite surprised at the skinship between the two men. Culver had slid down so his head was in Orion's lap, his arms still locked around his panicking friend. And Orion, despite his self-consciousness, clung to Culver like a mother who'd found her lost child.

"Let's get your wounds treated," Orion said presently. "Alana, can we help ourselves to your first-aid box?"

Just say you want a moment alone with him. "It's in the cabinet above the sink," she replied, turning to go. "While His Highness showers, finish eating and taking your medicine."

Half an hour later, Orion had been fed, Culver was clean and bandaged and Alana had curled up on the couch with her food with the television on. Culver was now seated on the bed behind Orion, indulgently detangling his hair while humming a tune. "Today is a good day," he announced.

"You genuinely frighten me, you know that?" Orion said in response.

"Why is that?"

"You're the only psycho I know who'd call it a good day after beating up eight men and ending up looking like you came back from doing battle at the front lines."

"That's not it." Culver put the comb down and started running his hands through the long strands. "I'm happy because you're alive and with me, and I'm surprised because it was so easy to make things that way."

"Easy?! What sort of creature are you?"

"I served in the elitest wing of the military. I'm bound to have a nasty skill set. You know, the only reason I stayed in the army even after completing the requisite service was so I could protect the people close to me. And it finally paid off...today..."

Orion whipped around in alarm as Culver's voice cut off with a choked sob. Unnoticed by him, Culver had been crying for a while - his face was soaked, and more tears kept chasing each other down his cheeks. "You're really scaring me now. What happened?" Orion asked. "Hey, hey!"

Orion pulled Culver into his lap as the latter released a scream of anguish, a cry full of so much pain it even made Orion's heart hurt. "It was easy!" Culver wailed, voice muffled by the crook of Orion's neck. "It was always this easy!"

"You're not making sense, Culver-"

"It was always easy! If it was so easy with you, how could I fail Daniil?! It was even easier with him!"

Him again. Orion clenched his jaw, trying to control the antagonism he felt towards Daniil. He knew shouldn't be feeling so jealous and insecure because of a dead man, but it was seriously irritating to have Daniil wedge himself into every moment that was supposed to be Orion's and Culver's alone.

"One 'yes!' Just one 'yes,' and he would've been here!" Culver continued, barely managing to get any words out between his sobs. "But I'm a coward! I'm the worst! He's gone, and it's all my fault!"

"Ssshh, stop crying. I'm here for you, I'll listen to everything. Just stop crying."

"I loved him so much, but I abandoned him when he needed me most! I don't even care for you as much, yet I went above and beyond for you!"

That hurt. After everything he and Culver had been through together, he still didn't warrant more than cursory attention in Culver's mind. It had always been glaringly obvious, but it still wrenched Orion's heart. "Why did you refuse Daniil your help?" he asked, deciding he wanted to get to the bottom of this Daniil issue once and for all.

"He wanted me to use my influence to get him a job. Don't misunderstand, he'd never be like that unless he was desperate. If I'd agreed, he'd never have joined the army, and..."

For a moment, everything went quiet in Orion's mind. The last thought fell into place, and realization washed over him so forcefully he actually swayed backwards. "You're an imbecile!" he cried, tightening his arms painfully around Culver. "Oh, you moron, weren't you just upholding your moral code?"

"I was!" Culver responded. "But what's one small deviation if it could've saved Daniil's life?"

"Don't confuse coincidence with causality, Culver! Daniil's death was sheer coincidence - no, shut your mouth and listen to me! I'm not saying there's nothing you could have done. I'm saying you weren't wrong in doing nothing!"

Cowed into silence, Culver sniffled quietly, staring up at Orion with utmost vulnerability. Nobody had put things that way before. Now that Orion had said it, it seemed rather obvious, and Culver realized he'd always been thinking much the same way. What he'd hated was that he was in the right, Daniil was in the wrong, and so he had nobody to blame. He'd wanted to be wrong so his guilt - his only means of holding onto Daniil - wouldn't fade away.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Orion said, wiping Culver's tears. "I sincerely am. But I have to admit I can't agree that he should've been here today. If he were here, you wouldn't have come into my life. And I'd never have seen today."

"What's...so special...about today?"

Orion smiled - that beautiful, soul-healing smile Culver had claimed as his exclusive right. "I made it," he said. "I made it through detox." Unable to hold himself back, he raised Culver's face and pressed a long, sweet kiss on his forehead.

"Really?" Through the fresh flood of tears, a tremulous smile appeared on Culver's face.

"Really. I can feel it. That's why I'm sorry, but I can't sympathize with your wish for Daniil to be here. I can only thank him for sending you my way."

Culver couldn't resist a weak chuckle at the mixture of pride and possessiveness on Orion's face. "I understand," he said, finally stopping to cry. "And congratulations. I knew you could make it."

A peaceful silence followed. Orion shifted so he was resting against the wall. Culver remained seated in his lap, snuggled contentedly into his arms. Comforted by Orion's slow, rhythmic patting of his head, he began to doze.

The vibration of a phone rudely jolted them both out of their respective thoughts. "It's not mine," Orion said, watching Culver feel around on the bed and in his pockets.

"No, I know," Culver responded. "Can't be mine either, it broke during the fight. Aha!" Triumphantly, he pulled a handset out of his back pocket. "It belongs to one of the men I fought. I'd taken their their phones."

"Why?"

"Whoever sent them after you must have been expecting a report. I figured they would call when no news reached them, and I think I'm right." Culver made a quick note of the number onscreen and took the call. Upon Orion's request, he turned on the speaker.

"What's taking so long?" A male voice demanded. "Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?"

"We have a problem," Culver said, not noticing Orion stiffen behind him.

"Who are you?"

"Addler. I'm the driver. Nobody who went in came out, so I came to check, and they're all tied up with their faces smashed in. Your mark is gone."

The person on the other end released a volley of expletives. "What do I pay you for!" He yelled. "Fix this, or I'll wipe every single one of you off the face of the Earth!"

The caller hung up, making Culver release an expletive of his own. "Damn it," he growled. "I wanted to get him to meet with me."

"There's no need," Orion said, his voice arctic. "I know who he is."

"You do? How?"

"That voice belonged to Elias Day, the son-of-a-bitch responsible for my addiction."