Chapter Text
Hyperlaser hums quietly as he watches the city roll past the bus's window. He'd slipped somewhat embarrassingly and twisted his ankle near the end of the day's Phight, and Medkit had recommended he avoid putting weight on it for a while, promising to heal it fully tomorrow due to running out of crystals.
His original plan had just been to call a cab, since Subspace left early and he definitely had the money for it. But Banhammer had somehow heard Medkit's words (Hyperlaser now suspected the warden had a sixth sense for sniffing out injuries) and insisted on accompanying Hyperlaser home, citing the (still slightly painful) fact that he has no friends to help him.
And because Banhammer doesn't know how to drive a motorcycle (and Hyperlaser wouldn't trust Banhammer with his anyway) they ended up just getting on a bus.
Leaning away from the warden, Hyperlaser closes his eyes for a minute and rests his head against the window, feeling the glass vibrate as the bus moves. It's an oddly soothing sensation, even if he knows it's probably not good for the integrity of his equipment. Behind him, he hears Banhammer shift, turning towards the window.
"Your stop is the next one, right?" Banhammer asks, pulling up his blindfold slightly as he peers out the window at the city. Hyperlaser didn't get a very good look at whatever lay beneath, but he hadn't been really trying, anyway. He of all people could understand hiding parts of his appearance.
"Yes." Hyperlaser eyes the passing buildings. They'll probably get there in a few minutes, give or take a few red lights.
They lapse into a mutual silence, the air filled with low chatter from the other passengers who got over seeing the Warden of Banland riding the bus surprisingly quickly. Such are the wonders of public transportation.
Soon, the screeching of the bus brakes alerts them of its arrival at the stop. Only one or two other passengers also happened to disembark here, which is fortunate since Hyperlaser doesn't doubt that Banhammer would have pushed right through any demons who happened to get in the way.
As it is, the warden doesn't encounter any obstructions while getting off the bus. They make it down the steps and onto the sidewalk without incident, only pausing as Banhammer feels the cold of Blackrock.
"Hoo, pretty chilly here." Banhammer shakes his head briefly, as if trying to dispel the brisk air. "Is it this cold all year?"
"You get used to it after a while." Of course, Hyperlaser's suit has insulation built into it, so that helps.
"So where's your place?"
"Around the corner on the right." Hyperlaser nudges Banhammer in the correct direction, and leans on him for support as they walk together. Honestly, he could probably walk on his ankle, he's certainly felt worse pains, but he'd rather not sit through another scathingly disappointed tirade from Medkit for aggravating his injuries.
Not to mention he'd probably get a scolding from Banhammer too. The occasional pitying look is already more than enough, he really doesn't need the warden to deliver what he imagines would be a terrifyingly accurate impression of an overbearing mother.
Banhammer fiddles with his blindfold, lifting it to look around before apparently deciding to take it off entirely. His eyes– all four of them– widen slightly as he notices the cloudy puffs his breaths are making in the air, a look of childlike wonder crossing his face.
Hyperlaser huffs in amusement, shaking his head slightly as his own breath briefly fogs up the inside of his helmet. Whatever chemicals coat the glass quickly dispel the condensation. "Is this your first time being in Blackrock? I was under the assumption that you'd been here on business before."
"Wow, that's gotta be the most words you've ever said to me at once!" Banhammer laughs, and Hyperlaser rolls his eyes. "I've been here, but mostly indoors, with my blindfold on."
"Seems counterproductive."
"Pulling out the big words now, are you?" Banhammer snorts. "I take it off for the important bits! Duh!"
Their conversation brings them past Hyperlaser's building, and they have to backtrack a bit once the mercenary notices. Banhammer stops to look at the flights of stairs with disapproval as they approach.
"Isn't that an elevator?" The warden points at a closed elevator with a few strips of yellow tape weakly clinging to the cloudy metal of its doors.
"Not anymore. It broke." Hyperlaser moves towards the stairs, but Banhammer pulls him back.
"Guess I'll just carry you, then."
A quiet "What?" is all Hyperlaser manages before being lifted into a bridal carry. His helmet, thankfully, entirely hides his initial flustered expression. After a few seconds he manages to get most of his wits back about him and finds some appreciation for the gesture. His ankle is probably benefiting, though his heart is still beating unreasonably quickly.
If anyone at Blackrock is monitoring his vitals right now, they'd better have the sense to not mention it. Hyperlaser doesn't want a repeat of the bathtub incident but he'll do what he must.
Banhammer carries the mercenary up the stairs, his frown deepening as he takes in the slightly crumbling brickwork and the occasional door that's just hanging open, chill air flowing into barren, uninhabited apartments.
"Which floor do you live on?" Banhammer asks after going up a few, both to break the silence and because Hyperlaser didn't mention it.
"Top floor." It's a bit of a pain to walk up there, but the elevation makes Hyperlaser feel safer. "Third door on the left."
The warden hums in acknowledgement, and continues looking around with unease showing on his face. Finally, he just bites the bullet and asks.
"So, uh, why do you live here?" He gestures vaguely at the walls. Hyperlaser is slightly impressed by the fact that he's currently being held with one hand, if also a bit concerned about being dropped. "Is that rude to ask? It just seems a bit odd, since, y'know? You're a mercenary?"
"The neighbors are quiet." There are other reasons, but he'd rather not discuss them with Banhammer.
"Okaay…" Banhammer doesn't sound entirely convinced, but that doesn't really matter, since he's just cresting the top of the last flight of stairs. "Well. Home sweet home."
Banhammer gently sets Hyperlaser back on his feet in front of the door, and receives a gracious nod before the mercenary takes his door key out of one of his pockets and starts unlocking the door.
It opens without difficulty, revealing a second door behind it with several more locks that require codes to unlock.
Hyperlaser casts a quick glance backwards to see if Banhammer is watching– he isn't, he's turned away politely– though the result doesn't matter much. The extra door is more to keep would-be petty thieves and unwanted visitors out, and while it hasn't stopped Subspace yet it has stopped everyone else.
Once the door finally clicks open, warm air wafts out, and Hyperlaser steps past it into the apartment before turning and looking back at Banhammer.
"Thank you for accompanying me."
"Oh, no problem!" The warden chuckles lightly. "It's just common decency, as my momma would say!
"Have a good night, Banhammer." A thought strikes Hyperlaser right as he's closing the door, and he stops and opens it again. "...you do have a way to leave Blackrock, right?"
Banhammer scratches the base of one of his horns awkwardly. "Yeah, I was just gonna take the bus again?"
"Oh. About that." This is a problem. "That was the latest the bus comes through on weekdays." As he speaks, it strikes him that Banhammer obviously shouldn't be expected to know the intricacies of Blackrock's bus schedules. "I should've told you earlier. Apologies."
They look at each other for another long moment. Hyperlaser closes the door to a smaller gap so less heat escapes, and continues to watch Banhammer.
"What? But I don't–?" Banhammer's eyes are wide, and he looks confused and a bit betrayed. "Wait, are you just going to leave me out here?!"
For a moment, Hyperlaser contemplates doing just that. The warden is loud, frequently obnoxious, and clearly has been handling the temperature reasonably well. But on the other hand, he did come with Hyperlaser out of what seems to be the kindness of his heart, and it would be unjustly cruel to literally leave him out in the cold in a completely unfamiliar area.
Banhammer's tense, nervous, and vaguely offended stare is broken by a sudden shiver. It's somehow reminiscent of a sopping wet cat– an image which really should not be as endearing as it is– and tilts the scales heavily.
The mercenary sighs and pushes the door all the way open, stepping back. "No, of course not. Come in."