Han Li sat by the theater’s back door, huddled as small as he could make himself. Closer to the main road, the wired fence was cut and moved aside so that Rob could have his vitals checked before being loaded up into an ambulance. 

How Han Li got from falling into Graham’s arms to sitting in a damp alleyway corner with a shitty yellow blanket around his shoulders was a bit of a mystery. The events played back murky despite having just happened. It left Han Li in a listless daze.

His recollections were likely out of order, but they were as thus:

Yelling at Graham to check Rob's vitals because he was too agitated to do it himself—

The paramedics arriving—

Someone tossing him a blanket that fell into a bloody puddle— Graham ordering them to get a new one.

Han Li standing there like an idiot— 

Graham on his phone, speaking in tongues Han Li couldn’t understand. He was pacing— 

Someone making Han Li sit down. Graham then telling them to back off—

And now, Han Li was sitting in the corner like a hapless puppy, waiting to be taken home by its master.

Said master was engaged in an argument with one of the first responders. It was probably because he was the only one present with a valid hunter’s license. Han Li chose to ignore them.

When he looked down, he saw that his forearms were more blue than beige, covered in gaping red wounds.

Maybe it was just a trick of light from the sirens that flashed across the scene, dying the back alleyway with reds, pinks and blues. But who was Han Li kidding? His fangs were already stabbing into his gums and his nails looked more like claws.

Han Li was a mess. Deep wounds were carved into his arm and his shirt (it was a nice shirt, dammit) was ripped to shreds. Filth covered him from head to toe, like the ugliest and messiest overcoat. The white sneakers he had on were long beyond recognition and his hair too, was no different than a dark wet mop on his head. It was a shame that his beanie was lost during the fight. He would have liked to hide in it.

Han Li pulled the stupid yellow blanket tighter around his shoulders. Because nothing ever helped with trauma more than a shitty scratchy blanket that barely shielded you from the cold. The rain had stopped, leaving the air damp, floor wet where blood and waste were mixed into a dark messy slosh. 

His arms hurt, knuckles too and a headache was starting to bloom but it was in a weird spot— behind his eye sockets and at the base of his skull. What a shitty day. In Han Li’s last year as a hunter, he rarely stayed for the aftermath debacle and his current situation was precisely the reason why.

Opposite to Han Li was the gaping hole he created using the vampire’s skull as a battering ram. There were still bits of gore left over as a reminder of what had just transpired. It was hard to look away.

Graham stood not far and spoke in a soft but brisk tone. Han Li watched in a sleepy daze, his thoughts were distant like the numbness that infested his body.

“A representative should be arriving shortly so please wait for them to take your statements…” The first responder stuttered and balked, shrinking from the sheer might of Graham’s resting bitch face. Han Li couldn’t blame him; for the man was just your Average Joe with a shiny bald circle and a beer belly protruding over his worn leather belt. The guy didn’t stand a chance against a towering hunk of muscle and killer instinct called Graham Astley.

But the first responder, bless the poor soul, regained his composure and refused to back down. “We can't let him off if he doesn’t have a proper license.” 

Ah. So they were talking about Han Li.

“I am the representative,” Graham’s tone was cutting. He sounded impatient. “And we have clearance to leave. Check with the Board if it would ease your anxiety over the matter.”

“Protocol is protocol, sir… He’s a normal civilian. Either he goes to the Sanctuary or someone from the Association takes his statement and gives him the okay. You should know how this works.”

Han Li’s reflexes kicked in, he perked up and raised his voice, interrupting the two men’s conversation, “Not the Sanctuary.” Even to his own ears, he sounded like a pleading child but Han Li didn’t care and tossed away his shame. “Please. Just not the Sanctuary.”

That awful place came with the memories of holy water and sterile smells mixed with mystical herbs. The Sanctuary was simply a hospital designated for hunters and those who experienced supernatural run-ins. Or, to Han Li, it was simply the mortal realm’s incarnation of hell.

The two men stared at him over their shoulders, one disapproving (the nameless responder) and the other contemplative (yours truly, Sir Graham Astley).

“Li, was it?” The balding man said slowly as though talking to a child.

But Graham interrupted him before he could say anything else, “He’s registered. His license has yet to be printed but that does not detract from the fact.”

The first responder’s frown deepened, eyes flitting between the two. There was something skittish about him, in the way his gaze never stayed on Han Li for too long. “I…would prefer if a representative came to assess the situation.”

“I am the representative—” Graham repeated what must have been the twentieth time. 

Han Li didn’t want to listen to them bicker anymore. “It’s fine, we can wait. I can wait.”

But Graham, like the overgrown man-child that he was, could not accept the loss. “No. I am giving my final word. I am the representative for the Hunter’s Association and the situation has been assessed. Another operative will be dispatched to preserve the scene and any pertaining evidence but we— by which I mean Mr Han and myself— are no longer needed and thus will be making our departure. Han Li. We’re leaving.” 

“Wait, sir—”

As expected, Graham easily pushed the first responder aside and marched up to Han Li with an outstretched hand. There was a glint of expectation in his eyes that left Han Li feeling confused. He was way too bewildered to react.

“Um.” 

“…” Graham wasn’t going to wait. His arm dropped and he stepped in closer. By then the last Han Li’s brain cells had fried due to emotional and physical exhaustion. Which was why he was frozen, allowing himself to be manhandled, picked up like a sandbag and tossed over the shoulder for good measure.

What.

What the fuck? 

Realization hit him late and Graham was already pushing through the small line of protesting emergency workers. They couldn’t do anything to stop him, not even with Han Li’s dead weight slung over his shoulder. 

“Hey! Put me down, I can still walk, dammit!” Han Li shrieked like a scorned maiden, batting at Graham’s back with his injured fists. But no matter how much he flailed, Graham’s grip was like a vice refusing to budge. At some point, Han Li gave up entirely and decided not to waste more energy, slumping over like a fresh corpse.

The worst part was that Graham’s car was still where he left it in the parking lot. While it was dark, New Lidway was a city that saw little rest and there were more than enough people around to shoot questioning stares. 

At least he still had that shitty blanket, which he used like a bonafide ski mask to hide his face and shame. 

“This sucks,” Han Li complained. 

“...” Graham graced him with silence.

“You should feel bad for me.”

“I do.”

“Ouch, never mind. That kind of hurt my pride. Huh, I didn’t even know I still had pride, isn’t that funny?”

“We’re here.” 

Finally, after what felt like ages he was let down. The passenger side was opened, Graham urged him to step inside.

Han Li paused to marvel at the source of his agony; Mr Tall and Handsome, S rank hunter that didn’t even lift a single pinky to help him until the aftermath. This guy who orchestrated this entire ordeal. “You’re a real gentleman, aren’t you?” sarcasm dripped from Han Li’s voice.

“I do my best. Get in.”

Did he hear that right? Han Li scoffed, only to choke. And then an avalanche followed suit with uncontrollable laughter tumbling out of his lips. He folded, arms clutching his stomach as tears dotted his eyes. The way it dragged through his throat and pinched his lungs was almost painful. 

This had to be a joke and Han Li was at the butt of it.

The more Han Li wheezed the deeper Graham frowned.

He wiped stray tears from his eyes, still breathless. “Okay, okay, I’m going in now. I’m going…” 

Han Li finally climbed into the passenger’s seat. Haze settled in his mind, his emotions disoriented until he felt nothing but a sharp pressure in his chest, festering in his lungs. He laughed again and it sounded pitiful, which only made it funnier.

Graham said nothing, closing the car door behind him. The engine roared to life. The streets of New Lidway City streaked by as they drove and Han Li realized belatedly that Graham was headed straight to his penthouse with no mind to drop Han Li off.

He was too tired to protest. His eyelids were heavy and there was black crowding the edge of his vision. It wasn’t long before fatigue would claim him, lulled by the sound of Graham’s reckless driving.

valiantxvillainous

This chapter was a bit difficult for me to write because I didn't want Han Li to just fly off in a fit of rage. It's based on some personal experiences of shock, I guess, so maybe it might come across a bit strangely ; w ; I don't know.

I hope that it makes sense vaguely.