We stop in front of Dravin's door, and I can't help but look around, halfway expecting someone I know to walk by and find us out. Dravin bangs on the door while leaning against the brickwork next to it after discarding my help, looking like he's about to pass out any second as his slouching grows more evident in his posture.

Stubborn. What'd I say?

A sudden thought hits me. "What if your mom sees you like this? Does she know about....you?" I glance behind me, only just now realizing her vehicle is gone.

Dravin glances over his shoulder at me with a strange expression on his face, then he quickly goes back to glaring at the door. "She's not here. And no, she doesn't know about me." His head moves in a slight shake. "And I plan on keeping it that way." He adds, somehow making it seem like he's directing it specifically at me.

Jeez, someone could be a little more appreciative after I just helped said person walk all this way back.

The whole three blocks.

He bangs on the door again before mumbling something incoherent under his breath, his patience for whoever it is he's waiting for wearing thin.

Who's supposed to answer if his mom isn't there? Because she's the only one I've yet to see. And heck, he doesn't have a key?

He suddenly grabs the door handle, and without even making sure no ones around, he gives it a quick jerk to the right, and I hear a small ping followed by a crack before he pushes the door open.

I gape at the now broken door handle as he uses the wall to limp inside by himself, witnessing something like that, even after everything else I've seen this past month, still leaving a mind boggling impression on me.

He just broke that door handle like it was a skinny twig!

Blinking a few times, I force myself to walk inside and push the door closed behind me, eyes still on the door handle despite how hard I try to peel them off.

Dravin glances back at the door, his face twitching in a small grimace. "I'll fix that later." He mutters, pausing to lean up against a antique looking grandfather clock I've only ever seen in Disney movies.

Ah, so he's a handyman too?

My jaw almost drops as I take in the room we're currently in, and I suddenly realize this section of the building, unlike where ours is divided into separate apartments, this is all one huge apartment.

The floor plan seems to be mostly similar to ours, only everything, the hardwood floors, the walls, all seem to be worth five times as much as ours. Antique appears to be the main theme going on with antique furniture. Pictures of fields, flowers, and barns hanging on the walls.

And I think it's the living room....I think.

Dravin grunts as he steps up onto the stairs that lead up, snapping me from my daze. I move so I stand next to him, and he begrudgingly excepts my arm. Holding the railing with his right hand, and while I support him on his left, we make it up the grueling staircase.

Only to appear in what looks like a erratic, large dining room.

A long redwood table sits over to the right with a few unlit candles sitting in the middle, a huge glass chandelier hanging over it from the ceiling. And I spot a grand piano sitting over in the far corner. A few more pictures hang on the walls, some with close up flowers.

Yet so far I've yet to see a single family picture. Odd.

Dravin completely bypasses the dining room, and I spot what must be the kitchen as we walk past a small hallway. He leads us up yet another staircase, and I'm suddenly wishing people would stop using stairs.

They seem rich. So where's their elevator?

We suddenly stumble into a exercise room, which they apparently have too, various workout equipment spread out and a small living room stuffed over in the corner of the room. He leads us over to a random bookcase in the living room corner of the room that has a door to the right of it, then he seems to push a certain book forward before pressing down on something. There's a soft click, then a whooshing noise before he pulls his hand back.

He turns the knob on the door, opening it up to reveal the inside of a elevator.

Ah, here it is. He's been hiding it.

"Classic." I comment, keeping my voice dry. He doesn't say or do anything, but I get the notion that he rolled his eyes.

We step inside, and I can't help but notice he seems to be putting more weight on me, his breathing sounding rough to even my own ears.

He presses a single button out of the five that are on the panel, then he pulls his arm back from around me, stepping away before he leans heavily on the back wall. I look around the elevator, half expecting some sort of awesome 'super' something.

Only it looks and feels like any average elevator.

"How'd you even get this thing set up if your mom doesn't even know about...." I wave my hand at him. "You?" He stares at the elevator door, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

"None of your business."

I fold my arms over my chest, biting the inside of my cheek. Snappy much? Another thought hits me, and no matter how hard I try, it still comes out.

"So you're a hero with claustrophobia?" I blurt out, immediately resisting the urge to cover my mouth. "Never heard of that before." I add after he stays quiet for a solid ten seconds, and I lean forward to gauge his reaction.

He takes a deep breath in through his nose, eyes closing for a split second as he tightens his left arm around his torso.

"Do you not have a filter or something?" His eyes snap over to me, and I'm momentarily distracted as the bright and mysterious orbs practically seem to suck me in.

His eyebrows furrow before he looks away, and he shifts his stance while softly clearing his throat.

"And I already told you," he mutters, looking down at the floor. "It's not claustrophobia." He corrects, making me believe this is indeed a sore subject when it's concerning him.

So he does have feelings. Though I guess that day back in the stuck elevator already proved that.

The elevator comes to a jarring stop, and I unfold my arms as the doors open. Glancing down, alarm immediately hits me as I find my right hand has a thin coating of sticky blood on it, my sleeve also showing evidence of the foul liquid.

I glance at his right side as he passes me to exit the elevator, only for my eyes to land on a growing dark spot between his hip and armpit on my jacket he's "borrowing."

I have to resist the shudder that wants to run through me.

You could say I'm not the best when it comes with blood.

Stepping out of the elevator, I'm met with a room that vaguely reminds me of a cellar, which is practically what it is.

The walls are a boring grey cement with zero paint, and the room itself looks to be about the size of the large dining room we passed earlier. Decent.

More workout equipment sits over in one corner that looks to be the designated 'exercise' corner, a boxing bag hanging from the ceiling catching my attention. That's suddenly redirected as I spot a glass case in the opposite corner that seems to have multiple different, sharp, weapons inside.

Ooh.

A few expensive computers sit along the wall to my left on a long desk/table, two comfy looking swirly chairs and a random beanbag chair making up the seating. A completely out of place ping pong table sits in the middle of the room, making me do a double take.

Wow. What the secret hideout this is. If only Micheal could see this.

"Quite the layout you have here." I run my finger along the edge of one of the Duracell, touch screen computers, the sound of the elevator doors closing off behind me.

I swear he almost chuckles as he moves to the middle of the room, his limp growing worse as he presses his left hand against his right side.

"But seriously," I move away from the blinking lights I have zero knowledge as-to what they are or what they do, moving to twirl on of the chairs around in a circle by the backrest. "How'd you get all this fixed up - the secret elevator?" I motion back at the elevator, giving him a incredulous look as he turns back to me.

He gingerly sits down on the edge of the sturdy ping pong table like it's not his first time coming back all bloodied up, grimacing as he slowly eases himself down. "I have my ways." He absentmindedly replies, and I notice he seems much more at ease now then when we were trudging along outside to here.

He moves his right hand, that I now see is completely soaked in red, down to the zipper on my jacket, quickly unzipping it before carefully pulling each of his arms out with extreme precaution.

He then moves his eyes to examine the gash across he left arm, his right hand prodding the large area of bruised skin.

I open my mouth to say something, only to cut myself off as the elevator doors abruptly open back up from my right. Both mine and Dravin's eyes snap over to the entrance, and I unexpectedly feel a stab of fear.

Did someone follow us?

My fears and concerns are immediately dashed as I get a clear view of the intruder as they step out of the elevator and into the open.

I almost think I'm hallucinating, and I can't help but look between the two as I fervently blink once I've completely looked over the newcomer; The newcomer that has an uncanny resemblance to Dravin.

They could be identical twins.

Yet, the closer and longer I look, the more I realize they're a little different.

This guy stands at maybe a little below six foot, a few inches taller then me, with a long and lanky build to his body. His pitch black hair, styled nearly the same as Dravin's, shorter. His face appears a shade lighter with a softer appearance to his skin, more youthful.

Then there's one small thing I find myself drawn to.

He has violet eyes.

I blink a few more times, all the while this guy walks straight in like he owns the place, his attention obviously on Dravin while his face only seems to grow more skeptical.

"About time you showed up, idiot." Dravin abruptly announces, giving the other teen a wavering glare before redirecting his attention back on his arm. "Could've used you, like, five minutes ago. Or better yet, how about an hour ago?"

The guy rolls his violet orbs, letting the anger filled accusation bounce off him like it's a daily occurrence in his life.

"Well excuse me if I didn't know you were out dying in the streets until like, fifteen minutes ago." New guy shoots back, his voice an octave or two higher than Dravin's, revealing his youthfulness.

I'm guessing thirteen or fourteen.

He's dressed in a black MeTV Svengoolie hoodie with the sleeves rolled carelessly up to his elbows, dark skinny jeans, black converses, and I notice both his wrists have dozens of thin, some tricolored while others are black and grey, braided bracelets and bands around them.

Something about his dark appearance screams emo/goth. Yet something else tells me he's neither of those. Choosing to reside somewhere in the middle instead.

Maybe it's just all the black? Come to think of it, I believe these two have a similar bond with that specific color.

He comes to a stop next to Dravin, seeming to be completely oblivious to my presence. Or either he's just ignoring me.

I'm going with the latter.

I feel a stab of anger. I take a step forward, folding my arms over my chest indifferently. "Um, excuse me. But who is this?" I huff, miffed they're ignoring me, raising an eyebrow up at the New Kid expectantly.

The kid looks up at me from examining Dravin's side, his face staying completely blank while Dravin simply scoffs like I simply asked who his favorite artist is. "Oh, this here is my idiot brother-Ow!" He cuts himself off with a bark of pain as New Kid presses down on a particularly damp area on his shirt, jerking like he was electrocuted. "What the heck, Riley?" He snaps, glaring down at the kid.

He-Riley smiles innocently up at him, standing back up to full height. "Watch who you're calling an idiot." He warns, yet I sense a undertone of amusement. He turns to face me, a charming smile spreading across his, from what I've seen, usual stern face.

"I'm Riley." He introduces. "This jerk's brother." He jerks his thumb back at Dravin, crossing his own arms.

I blink at the word 'brother,' for some reason not pegging Dravin as the brother type. Though, I guess he wouldn't really of had a choice in the matter.

"And I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess you're the Heavyn girl that's been stalking my brother since you arrived here in good old NY?" He peers over at me, and I find myself drawn in to his extraordinary eyes.

Those have to be contacts. . . Right?

I snap myself out of my daze. "Um, yeah." I blush, despite myself, at the 'stalking' accusation. "But how'd you know about me? I don't know anything about you." I point out, taking another hesitant step forward.

Riley shrugs, turning back around to Dravin who has a wary/weary expression across his face, like he doesn't have the energy to deal with this right now.

"Let's just say, you've become my brother's new favorite topic." He says matter-of-factly. Dravin immediately turns a shade redder in the cheeks, hissing something under his breath at his brother, who pointedly ignores him, while trying, but failing to stop himself from glancing over at me.

I smile faintly, unsure whether he meant that he's been dissing me behind my back, which I really can't blame him, or the opposite.

And I'm going to go with the latter with how disoriented and flustered Dravin suddenly looks. And it's not just because he has multiple bullet holes in him.

Aw, he looks kinda, well. . . cute.

I clear my throat, shuffling my feet. "Um, not to be annoying or anything, but shouldn't you probably be getting your injuries checked out-wha!" I bark out a surprised squeak when Dravin abruptly pulls his last layer of clothing off his upper body, leaving him bare chested.

"Geez, so dramatic." I hear Riley mutter as I immediately turn my body halfway away from the strip scene, unsure as to who that was directed to. "Excuse me." I hiss. "Trying to stand here."

I hear Dravin chuckle from his spot across the room, back to his suave self. "Chill, Heavyn. I'm not doing it for your benefit." My jaw drops at his statement, that flare of anger once again kindling. I snap my jaw shut, reeling back around on them.

"I was not insinuating that at all-" The words dry on my tongue as my gaze falls back on Dravin.

Sure he's a good looking specimen - beyond that if I'm being honest. Each muscle on his chest and through his shoulders individually defined, a full sized six-pack running down his tan stomach, where I can see the outline of the V just above his black leather pants-

No, no. Stop checking him out.

I swallow the sudden clump away from my throat, forcing myself to focus on the large, and growing, patch of red spreading out from his right side.

"That looks serious." I say before I've even thought twice about it. Dravin swings his gaze over to me, half-lidded, giving me a 'Duh' look. "You don't say." He grimaces as Riley prods the side of his abdomen where a large bruise similar to the one on his arm sits, the area a nasty blue and purple.

I frown as I spot a small red puddle that's slowly growing on the ground underneath where Dravin sits on the ping pong table, drips falling down like a leaky faucet.

"Shouldn't you be, like, unconscious from the amount of blood you've lost?" I question, thinking back to the puddle I found in the alleyway. Riley snorts like that question is minuscule and unimportant, moving around Dravin as he continues to asses him like he's his personal doctor.

Thought, maybe he is.

Dravin blinks, bringing me back into focus. "I heal quick. Which also means I regenerate blood faster than your average person." He says like that explains everything, wincing as he looks down at the prodding hands of Riley.

I make a face, motioning back at him. "If you heal so fast, then why aren't you healed yet?" I question. "You're still bleeding." I arch a brow up.

Dravin winces again, taking a careful breath as he adjusts his seating position. "Yeah, well, even for me this is a bit extravagant." He mutters, relaxing his tense body as he blows another breath out.

He then pulls a face, biting his lower lip as he gazes down at Riley. "I also think they were-"

"-tinted with the Mystice meteorite mumbo jumbo?" Riley finishes, making Dravin frown at him. "Yeah."

That instantly perks me up. "Wait." They both look over at me, one gaze a striking blue while the other is a eerie violet. "I thought that stuff didn't work on you?" Dravin looks confused. "Why would you think that?"

I shrug. "I dunno. I guess I figured since the High Rise detectors don't seem to affect you at school, that stuff was baloney."

Riley chuckles while Dravin looks about as far from amused as you can get. "Well, for your information, since you already know my secret now anyway, they do affect me." He deadpans. "I just choose to ignore it."

"Yeah, because that works out so well." Riley mutters, walking over to the far wall. Dravin huffs in annoyance, slouching slightly.

Deciding not to stray too far off topic, I store that information in the back of my mind for later.

I stare at them. "So what does that mean for you now?" I look between the two, raising an eyebrow in questioning. Dravin opens his mouth to answer, only Riley beats him to it.

"Well, as an example, think of how a splinter extracts itself from your skin." His face moves in a slight frown, like he's thinking deeply. "It does this because your body creates new skin cells from the bottom, up. Pushing the object out of the skin."

Riley walks back over from the wall, pushing what looks like a IV pole you see in hospitals. And of course, there hanging up at the top, is one clear bag of liquids hanging next to one with a bag of bright red.

"There are three layers of skin, generally speaking— epidermis; the part that we see when we look down at our skin. The dermis; the deeper part where we find our sweat glands, erector pili muscles, connective tissues, etc. And finally the third layer of skin which is mainly comprised of a layer of fat, which is used as insulation and varies in thickness with every person."

He takes a breath to continue, much to my astonishment - Why would you even know that much about skin? Only Dravin interrupts him.

"Thank you, Sid the Science Kid, for that very. . . lengthy explanation we don't need because we don't care, but would you please just cut to the chase?" His voice strains at the end, face looking paler then earlier.

Instead of Riley looking upset or even disappointed at being rebuked for his obvious genius, his face simply lights up as he comes to a stop next to Dravin.

"Well, to put it shortly, the affects of the Mystice particles embedded in the bullets would cause them to remain stuck in place, and your outer skin - due to your healing abilities, will close overtop of it, sealing them inside instead of acting like a splinter and expelling themselves." He states matter-of-factly.

Well, someone here is a Mr. know-it-all.

Dravin frowns. "Well that sucks." He groans, sounding like he just told him he'd have to get his vehicle towed instead of whatever it is he's implying.

Riley crosses his arms, eying Dravin from his spot next to him. "Yeah, and if you'd taken my advice on wearing a bullet proof vest with the rest of your attire, we may have avoided this fiasco completely, peabrain."

Dravin scowls. "Well excuse me. You try fighting with a vest on like that." He rotates his right arm slightly. "It restricts my movements." He pouts. Riley rolls his eyes, moving his attention back on the IV pole.

"Well thanks to your stubborn self, I get to pry into your body and pull those pieces of metal out of your skin." He spreads his hands out in a hand flourish. "So congratulations!"

"Quit being snarky, Ry. I'm not in the mood."

"Well excuse me, your majesty. Would you like me to get your robe too?"

"Riley." Dravin warns, glaring over at him. Riley looks offended instead fearful of the hard glare. "What? Maybe I wasn't in the mood to operate today either, huh?" He argues, suddenly going limp like he's just spent all his fuel. He quickly turns around to face away from either of us, fiddling with the IV bag.

Dravin suddenly looks like he was slapped in the face.

What'd I miss?

"Riley. . ." Dravin trails off, his voice now soft and apologetic. "I'm sorry-"

All of our heads swing over to the elevator door as it suddenly opens, no ding to alert us beforehand.

Then the last person I expected to see here steps out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Seems I was able to get a chapter ready before Christmas, so here I am! 😁 Hope it was decent. I'm still kinda in a rush, sadly. Sorry if it lags in the description prospect. I'm lacking in both time and imagination at the moment.

So yeah, Merry Christmas, happy Chanukah, or whatever you celebrate (if anything) and a Happy New Year!!

I'll hopefully be returning to weekly updates sometime in January seeing as my plans for first completing my newest book: Identity, is already about halfway done. Yay me! 👏🏻

As usual, please VOTE!! That'd be a nice Christmas present for me. 😇

5 votes before I update again!

Maggy