Reshi woke up to a dull, gray morning, the kind where the clouds hung so low they seemed to press down on him.
His heart felt heavy today, a familiar weight. He knew why, it was the wretch again. That part of him he hated most. It whispered in his ear even now, promising that this day wouldn't be easy. Reminding him of everything he had done, trying to make him curl up in a ball and just die.
With a sigh, he pushed himself out of bed and trudged to the kitchenette. He hated mornings, but there was comfort he could take in the monotony of his routine. He cracked a couple of synth-eggs into the pan and began frying up breakfast, the soft hiss of oil filling the silence.
Mary and Judas had been living with him for a week now. It was strange. He hadn't told them they could stay, but he also hadn't told them to leave.
Maybe it was because he knew what would happen if they did. The Boss's men were still prowling the area, lurking like shadows. If Mary and Judas stepped outside, they'd be captured, or worse.
Reshi didn't want that. He didn't understand why, but he cared about their safety. He really cared.
It unsettled him. He'd thought himself emptied out long ago, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, no longer dancing on the whims of his naivety. His heroics, his feelings, all of it should have died with his family. Yet every time he thought about telling them to leave, about reclaiming his solitude, he just…couldn't.
There was a profound wrongness to it.
He plated three portions of food and set them down on the floor.
As usual, the sound of his cooking stirred Mary and Judas from his old room. They shuffled in, still groggy from sleep.
"Hey, Reshi," Mary said, her voice bright despite the gloom.
"Morning, Mary."
Judas didn't say anything, the full might of his focus bearing down on the food. He attacked his plate with the single-minded determination of a child. Reshi felt a small tug at his lips watching the remarkable way Judas managed to open his mouth wide enough to fit in all the food.
The three of them ate in companionable silence. The food tasted good. It always did when they were around. Since they'd arrived, meals had felt… different. Warmer.
When they were done, Mary took the plates to the sink and began washing them.
"You working today?" she asked, her hands moving methodically under the running water.
"Yeah. Day shift."
"Okay. Go get changed. I'll pack you a meal so you don't get hungry."
Reshi stood there for a moment, staring at her. Someone making him food,it was such a small thing, so insignificant really. But at the same it was, well…warm.
He didn't say anything, just nodded and did as she asked. When he returned, Judas was waiting for him on the couch, swinging his legs idly as Mary packed up his lunch.
"Hey, Judas," Reshi asked, crouching down to meet the boy's gaze. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
"I want to be strong," Judas said immediately. "Like you. That way, I can save people."
Reshi chuckled. "You don't want to be stronger than me?"
Judas thought about it, his face scrunching in concentration. "Yeah, I do. That way, I can protect you too."
The earnestness in his voice made Reshi smile, a full conscious smile. "I'll be looking forward to that, then. My little bodyguard, huh?"
"Yep! But you have to promise to keep making me breakfast every day."
"Deal."
Reshi laughed softly and stood up, taking the packed lunch from Mary. "Thanks."
"No problem," she said with a smile. She smiled a lot these days, ever since she'd realized Reshi didn't expect anything from her in return. It was strange to see someone smile so much after everything she'd been through, but he wasn't complaining. It brightened up the room.
He left the apartment with her and Judas on his mind.
The streets were quiet as Reshi made his way to the convenience store where he worked. The morning air carried a faint chill, making him pull his jacket tighter around himself.
Then he saw them.
A group of men rounded the corner ahead of him, their voices low and rough. One of them limped, leaning heavily on crutches, his face a mess of bruises.
Reshi's stomach dropped. Azazel.
He recognized the man instantly. Azazel was one of the Boss's enforcers, the one Reshi had fought off the night Mary and Judas came into his life.
Panic surged through him, but he forced himself to turn away in a nonchalant manner, as if didn't recognise the injured face.
"Hey! You!"
Reshi froze. His heart pounded so loudly he thought for definite they could hear it. He should run. He should've run. But his legs wouldn't move. It wasn't just fear, it was as if an invisible hand had gripped him, holding him in place.
"Oi, I'm talking to you!"
Two men grabbed him before he could react, their grips like iron.
"That him, Az?" one of them asked.
Azazel limped closer, studying Reshi's face. For a moment, he hesitated, and Reshi dared to hope.
'It was dark,' Reshi thought desperately. 'Maybe he doesn't recognize me. Please god, just this once, please.'
But then Azrael's gaze dropped to Reshi's left hand. His eyes widened as he saw the bandage wrapped around it, the same hand Azrael had injured in their fight.
"Yeah," Azazel said, his voice venomous. "That's the bastard."
Reshi barely had time to register the words before a fist collided with his jaw. He was out cold before he even hit the ground.
He dreamed of his family.
They were in the living room. His mother was in the kitchen, humming as she cooked breakfast. His father sat in his chair, hidden behind a rustling newspaper. His little sister darted around the room, her laughter mixing with the sound of his twin brother's voice.
But Reshi wasn't part of it. He stood apart from them, separated by a sheet of cold, unyielding glass.
Then his mother turned to him.
"You know the secret to good food, Reshi?"
Her voice startled him. She was looking right at him, her dark eyes filled with warmth. Her auburn hair framed her face in soft waves, the same as he remembered.
She could see him.
Reshi's throat tightened. "No, Mom," he whispered.
She smiled, a radiant curve of warmth and love. "The secret is pride. That's all you need. Pride in yourself, Resh. When you're proud of what you've done, it makes the sun seem brighter. It makes the gloom feel weaker, the day a little better, and the food a little nicer."
Reshi tried to move closer, to reach for her, but invisible hands began pulling him back.
"No! I want to stay! I don't want to go!"
The living room dissolved into darkness, and her gaze was the last thing to fade. A gaze so utterly warm, a gaze with absolute trust, in him.
Reshi woke with a pounding headache. He was in a dark room, his wrists tied tightly behind him. Around him were men with knives and guns, the Boss's men.
He shook his head wearily. He'd been dreaming about something. Something to do with his, mother?
"Well, well," a deep, rich voice drawled, stealing his attention.
Reshi looked up and saw him. The Boss.
Tall and broad-shouldered, with dark, piercing eyes and hair like midnight, he sat in a chair with a relaxed confidence, a flicker of amusement in his gaze.
"Hello, Reshi. We've got a lot to talk about, don't we?"
"I… I don't understand," Reshi stammered, his voice barely audible.
The Boss tilted his head, feigning patience. "Oh, don't you? That's funny. After all, you beat up my right-hand man and
took my wife and kid."
The words hit Reshi like a hammer. Mary. Judas.
"I… I didn't—"
"Don't waste my time with stuttering, boy." The Boss's tone was calm, almost gentle, but the malice beneath it was unmistakable. "You know who I'm talking about. Now, let's make this simple: where are they?"
Reshi's mouth went dry.
The wretch chose that moment to continue its whispers to him again.
'Give them up. Why are you hesitating? You barely know them. Haven't you learned by now? Caring gets you killed. Being a hero is a fool's game. Give them up, and this will all go away!'
His heart screamed at him to resist, but fear wrapped around him like chains. The Boss leaned forward, his dark eyes pinning Reshi in place.
"If you don't tell me," he said, his voice soft and venomous, "I'll find them anyway. And when I do, they'll die screaming your name. But if you cooperate… well, I promise they'll live, and they won't ever know what you've done."
A sickening smile curled across the Boss's lips, a predator sensing victory.
Reshi closed his eyes, his body trembling. The wretch pressed harder, insidious and relentless.
'It's for their own good, it lied. If they don't know you betrayed them, it won't matter. You'll be helping them.'
His resolve cracked. The weight of the Boss's words, the fear of what would happen to him, the voice of the wretch—it was too much. He heard himself speak, the words spilling out before he could stop them.
"They're… they're at my flat. 33AD Friday Street."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
"There you go," the Boss said, his voice almost cheerful. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
Reshi kept his eyes downcast as they dragged him out of the building and dumped him onto the street. He didn't fight back. He didn't even look at them.
When the van drove away, he crawled to the curb and curled into a ball. Tears streamed down his face, hot and relentless. He hated himself. He hated his weakness. He hated the wretch.
That night, Reshi dreamed again.
The living room was empty. No laughter, no humming, no warmth. Just silence.
When he woke, it was dark outside. The cold bit at his skin as he forced himself to stand, his legs unsteady beneath him. He knew what he would find when he returned to the flat.
The door was ajar, hanging crooked on its hinges. The apartment was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that swallowed sound. They were gone.
He walked into the kitchen and began cooking. Two synth-eggs. Three slices of toast. He plated the food and sat on the floor, staring at the empty space where Mary and Judas used to sit.
He took a bite.
It was sour. Bitter. The taste of ash. He spat it out, coughing.
Reshi stared at the plate, the wretch whispering again, louder now, in a victorious tone.
'This is how it was meant to be. Quiet. Empty. You'll never fail anyone again.'
Then, like a flicker of sunlight through storm clouds, he remembered his dream. His mother's voice.
'The secret is pride. That's all you need. Pride in yourself, Resh. When you're proud of what you've done, it makes the sun seem brighter. It makes the gloom feel weaker, the day a little better, and the food a little nicer.'
The wretch recoiled, its grip on him loosening. Reshi looked down at the plate again, his thoughts racing.
He could close his eyes and live with this emptiness, this bitterness, for the rest of his life.
Or… he could do something good. Something amazing. Something a lesser man would call…insane.
Reshi smiled, a small, tentative curve of his lips as he formed his resolve.
It felt good. Warm.
Like a resurrection.