September 12-- 1888

My unusual patient continues to grow better as the days pass; it's almost unbelievable that I have been caring for him for a week and a half's time now. Infection has not set in, I have removed the stitches, and the wound is slowly closing itself, Praise God!

Our conversations are either guarded or uncomfortable, and I fear he is very closed off from others. He has become a bit more at ease around me, but there is still a general level of distrust... myself included. I cannot meet his gaze for long, the golden irises filled with a flood of emotions and something I can never quite put my finger on.

He has an unnatural curiosity, driving him to ask random questions at unrelated times. He has become interested in my work, and I have begun to teach him small things if only for the simple reason to keep him occupied with something.

Henri tucked the journal into the pocket of his suit-coat. He sighed, adjusting the satchel at his side as he walked up the street to the apothecary. Yes... His patient had been growing better, but Henri's caretaking of the Vigilante had become harder and harder to keep quiet. Stetson was beginning to give him concerned looks, and he couldn't count how many times he had almost been caught. In order to feed his patient, he had sacrificed his packed lunches and instead ate at a small place across the street. The young doctor didn't have that many medicine orders to fill anymore, and the guise of his workspace would only hold for a day or two more... maybe less.

Needless to say... he needed to move NightOwl to a more secure location.

The young doctor opened the door, making his way up the stairs and to the lab. He knocked twice, and then repeated the rhythm again before entering. He had formulated the knock as a way to identify himself from anyone else "Intruding" into the lab after nigh getting skewered by one of NightOwl's silver knives late one evening. Henri closed and locked the door, turning to set down the satchel he had been carrying on a nearby empty table.

"Good evening." He greeted.

The NightOwl looked up from a small piece of wood in his grasp, his scarred lips twitching.

"To you as well, Doctor Collins."

The highwayman went back to his project, holding the wood steady with his right hand as he carved at it with one of his daggers. Henri examined the piece, trying to determine what it was. It seemed to be a bird of some-sort, with wings outstretched. He gave a small nod before turning back to his worktables, preparing to start the latest order. The sound of the knife sliding across the wood stopped, followed by the soft sound of boots on the floor. Henri set out the graduated glasses, skimming over the list of ingredients to get a feel for what he needed.

"What is this?"

Henri almost dropped the glass, whirling around to face NightOwl, who was standing beside of him holding a bottle of whitish powder, a curious gleam in his eyes. The young doctor forced his heart to slow, holding onto the table to calm himself enough to answer.

"T-That is Sodium Carbonate." He stuttered.

NightOwl made a thoughtful hum, turning it over in his hand.

"What do you use it for?"

Henri let out a sigh as he composed himself, adjusting his glasses to rest the correct way on his nose.

"Primarily as a mineral additive, and to lower the acidity of chemicals."

The vigilante gave a slight nod at the information, setting it down where he had found it. Henri rubbed at his eyes, trying to re-establish his train of thought.

"I have been meaning to ask you something." He began.

NightOwl's visible eyebrow rose a bit, but he stayed silent, urging Henri to continue. The young doctor measured out the main base of the medicine, double checking to be sure he didn't over-fill the mark.

"My work here at the Apothecary is beginning to slow. I can only come here for a time or two more before suspicions may arise, and someone investigates."

The highwayman shifted, his gaze showing a touch of concern before cooling back to their sharp stare. Henri swallowed at his dry throat, rubbing at his left hand to stay calm.

"With your wound healing at a progressive rate, I thought now would be a good time to move you to a safer place. Somewhere I can keep an eye on you while you heal, but still keep you concealed as well."

NightOwl's gaze narrowed a degree as his eyes zeroed in on the kindhearted doctor.

"How do I know you aren't using this as a ploy... a way to turn me over to the authorities?"

Henri let out a frustrated sigh, forcing his eyes to meet those of his strange patient in a show of truthfulness.

"I give you my word as a doctor; I am only trying to avoid future complications."

The vigilante held his gaze for several moments longer, making a cold feeling skitter across Henri's spine, but he still held the gaze. At long last NightOwl looked away with a huff, turning to walk back to the couch.

"Very well... I believe you."

Henri blinked, trying to piece together what had just happened. NightOwl trusted him... just like that?

"Wh-what?"

The vigilante sat down, wincing as his arm was jostled.

"When did you wish to move? And where?" He questioned, ignoring the past comment.

The kindhearted doctor rubbed at the back of his neck, beginning to pace as he tried to come up with an appropriate course of action.

"Well... I had hoped to move you tonight, while it's still dark and the streets are empty of pedestrians. I have a room in my home that only I visit; it should be safe for you to stay there until you recover fully."

NightOwl hummed in thought, tapping one of his slender fingers against his bound left arm. He stood to his full height, several inches taller that Henri's five foot nine. He gave a smirk, his scar twisting with the expression.

"I suppose we should be moving then?"

Henri gave a rapid nod, ducking into the far right corner to scoop up the feathered black coat. Best not to leave any tell-tale evidence behind. They both crept down to the main floor, NightOwl keeping close to the back of the room in order to stay out of the windows' view. Henri reached for the main door's handle, trying to keep his shaking hands under control enough to grab it. A sharp hiss startled him. He spun around to see NightOwl, a hand clenched around his wounded shoulder. He motioned to the side with his head.

"You have a rear exit correct?"

The young doctor felt like slapping himself. Of course they couldn't leave through the main doors; any person within a two block radius would be able to see them. He nodded to the vigilante and changed course, slipping behind the counters and down a small hallway. He came out in a place not much larger than a mud-room, with shelves partially filled with neat-packed crates labeled to specified medical practices. Henri slipped around the shelves and to the back wall, where the well-used back door was tucked away. He slipped the key from his pocket, barely able to calm his anxious thoughts enough to be able to fit it into the lock. The foreboding feeling of their being caught haunted his mind like a vengeful phantom.

He opened the door, peeking his head out into the back alley to check for any unwanted spectators. He almost sighed in relief when he found the streets clear. He motioned for NightOwl to follow, slipping into the shadowed alley. The highwayman was close behind, keeping step behind the doctor. Henri guided him through the back ways toward his home, keeping his eyes open for any people around. Several times they had to detour to avoid being seen by a group of late roamers. At the third detour, Henri's blood ran cold.

He had seen one of the men more than once.

He snuck a glance over his shoulder as they walked. The man had the same tattered bowler, same long-coat, and same look as one of the men from a block back. The man didn't seem to give them a second glance, too busy with his associates to care, but Henri couldn't help the nagging feeling they were being followed. They were fortunate NightOwl looked much different without his coat, as long as his silver mask stayed hidden in the shadows. He slowed his pace, letting his Patient come up to stride with him.

"I-I think we are being followed." He whispered under his breath.

The NightOwl didn't turn to look, or even glance around.

"Who?"

Henri swallowed.

"A man in a ratty bowler hat. I've seen him at least twice now."

NightOwl's eye flashed with a strange light that made the kindhearted doctor nervous. As they turned the corner, he saw the vigilante's eyes flicker in the direction of the man, then back again. His teeth clenched. In a flash he snagged his coat from Henri's grasp, disappearing into the shadows of the alley like a specter. Henri froze, his gaze darting around to find the vigilante.

"NightOwl!" He whispered. "What is this about?!"

The alley was empty as far as the doctor could see. His face twisted in a hurt frown. Had NightOwl abandoned him at the first scent of danger, leaving him to his fate while he saved himself? Henri's gut twisted. What was he going to do?

"Well, well... Look what we have here boys."

Three men turned the corner, none of them seeming to have good intent in mind. The leftmost one was short and skinny, with a wicked gleam in his brown eyes. The right one was tall, wearing a vest without an undershirt, showing off his claw-marked shoulders. The one in the center carried himself with the air of an alpha wolf, his dark brown hair peeking out from under a familiar tattered bowler. Henri's eyes widened.

They had been followed after all.

___________________________________

Dragonbytes:

WOW.

Two sicknesses, one New Year, and a bout of CRIPPLING PROCRASTINATION/UNINSPIREMENT later....

I am so sorry. BUT HEY... I made up for it with a cliffhanger. 

THE HORRORS! BUT WAIT..... THE WORST IS YET TO COME. TUNE IN NEXT WEEK... 

SAME TIME.... SAME CHANNEL....

(Shameless 1966 Batman reference... I love that show...)