All the Time to Lose (Wormverse)

Ch 1: Paternal Instincts

There's an old saying. 'You never know what you have, until it's gone.' It's supposed to remind you to appreciate what you have because most people don't recognize the value of what they have until they no longer have it.

A good lesson to teach people, but no one ever talks about how it feels to one day get that thing back. The phrase itself implies that you don't get it back. There's a finality to it that leaves no room for ideas, no room for plans, and no room for hope.

However, they say time apart only makes the love for someone, or something, that much stronger. So, time away increases your love and appreciation...but your hope for reunion dwindles the longer the separation lasts.

Where is that magic, in between amount of time, where your love and appreciation has had time to grow and strengthen, but your hope of reunion is still strong enough to hold onto? I'm not sure such a number exists.

After all, every person and relationship has their own, incalculable levels of consistency, trust, loyalty, and love. These are among the essential components to how people determine their hopes of reunion.

There are stories in which authors explore how long one can wait for that coveted reunion. One example is in Homer's Odyssey. Odysseus's wife Penelope waited patiently for 20 years for Odysseus to return, but Odysseus's mother, Anticlea, killed herself part of the way through his absence because she couldn't handle the grief.

Sixteen years. Sixteen long, sickening, arduous, painful, depressing years. There are over a dozen words I could use to describe those years...all of them are negative. It doesn't matter that I'm one of the most successful hitmen of the century.

It doesn't matter that I can hold my own against some of the most powerful capes on Earth. It doesn't matter that I'm, miraculously, not rotting in jail for my crimes. It doesn't matter that I was the only cape to survive that Endbringer attack. It doesn't matter that I'm in perfect health.

Hell. It doesn't even matter that I'm alive. None of it matters. Not without knowing. Not without answers. Not without her. I've already outlasted Anticlea but...I don't know if I have the same strength as Penelope. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up.

I've lost everyone. By now, most of my friends that could help are either dead, in jail, or trapped in the Birdcage. I'm not sure if there's anything else I can do at this point. I've tried everything that comes to mind. I have lost that false hope that I wouldn't be alone.

I won't stop though. I can't. I don't care how long it's been nor how young she was. I certainly don't care how long it will take. I need answers. I find myself here whenever I think about these things...about her. Not necessarily here, but this kind of place.

I could try to say that it's a quiet, reputable, and sophisticated establishment...but that would be a big fat lie. It's a bar. I could be in a less reputable bar, one that serves criminals, but that's the beauty of wearing a mask and using a codename. Nobody knows me outside of my uniform.

Well...that's not entirely true, but the few people that do, can't or won't do anything about it. It's not a healthy habit by any means, but it's the only one that works. Every time, I tell the bartender ahead of time to cut me off after I've had a certain number so I don't go overboard.

They never let me down. I'm already a few drinks and several hours into the night. The bartender tonight is an elderly woman, in her 60s probably, and the owner of the bar. With white hair, pale, wrinkled skin, and big brown eyes.

The bartender in training is a young woman with porcelain skin, long, dark brown hair, and innocent, light blue doe eyes. She looks to be early 20s. I've come to this bar several times before, so I know the girl is new. The old woman is named Mary, and the young girl is Melissa.

As I raise my hand for another round, Mary gives me a sad smile as she puts my drink down "Still no luck I take it?" I shake my head, not looking up from the counter. She sighs, and I can hear her move to talk to Melissa at the other end where she's is cleaning the used glasses.

I could listen in if I wanted to. It's a pretty quiet night here and I've trained myself to pick up on these things, but I ignore them. I can't help but smile sadly to myself, as I wonder what she'd look like now. Maybe like Melissa.

Give her darker skin and copper hair...that's probably pretty close actually. My little girl. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I couldn't be there for you in some of the hardest years of your life. I've failed you. I promise I'll make it up to you. I just hope I get the chance.

I snap out of my daze to a vibration emanating from my jacket. I reach into the interior pocket and check my phone, hiding the screen from view. I've got a call from an unknown number. Not all that surprising considering my line of work.

I tap the counter with my knuckles and hold up a $20 for Mary to see. I place it down, collect my things, and go outside. I answer as soon as I'm clear of the door, keeping my voice flat and emotionless.

"Yes?" "Anubis?" The man sounds less like he's stating a fact rather than asking a question. "Speaking." "My boss would like to meet with you. A location has been sent to your phone." I check my phone and, sure enough, there's a location, both an address and coordinates.

I check where it is and see that it's Brockton Bay, Massachusetts. I put the phone back up to my ear "And?" "Be at that exact location on Friday at 7PM." I like knowing who I'm dealing with, and Brockton Bay has all manner of heroes and villains, though my gut says his boss is a villain.

"Who am I meeting?" "One of us. We will take you to meet with the boss." I resist the urge to sigh or growl. "Don't keep me waiting." I warn him before hanging up. His boss is being too careful, too precise, to not be a cape.

They probably have a Master or Thinker power actually. I go home and research Brockton Bay capes and the city itself. I make sure I get there using the most common forms of public transportation to mask my entrance into the city.

It might be nothing...but something tells me that I need to keep my guard up. I arrive Wednesday morning and spend the entire day getting to know the city. I make notes of where gang territories begin and end, any major capes that I see, and any potential threats.

On Thursday morning, I pass what appears to be an animal shelter. On a whim, I go inside. I can't help but lament when I see that none are the breeds I need. My last dog, Diablo, was a big, guard dog and an ex-fighting dog.

I like the challenge of training difficult dogs, especially ones capable of keeping up with me on jobs. I sigh as I go to the front desk "Excuse me?" The lady behind the counter can't be older than 30.

Her long hair is dyed a platinum blonde that makes her pale skin look a little washed out despite the gaudy makeup she's coated herself in. "Yes sir?" Her voice sounds so fake in its high-pitched, forced pleasantness.

Dear god I need to get away from this woman before I say something horrible to her. "I was wondering if you're struggling to get any of these dogs adopted." She checks their records but one of the volunteers comes out from the back, a boy in his late 20s, and answers for her.

"Sorry, you missed them. Rachel picked those up this morning." "Rachel?" "Yeah. She loves dogs so she comes by and takes the unadoptable dogs so they don't get euthanized." I can't help but be impressed by this girl, and I don't even know her.

"Do you know if I could check them out?" The boy, David according to his name tag, looks startled and shrugs. "I can call her and find out." "Could you? I would really appreciate it. I'm sure she's got her hands full." David nods and goes into the back to call Rachel.

I start roughhousing with a few of the dogs while I wait for him to finish the call. Rachel huh? I wonder if it's the same one I read about. That might be cool. If what I've read is true, then this meeting should prove to be very interesting.

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I hope you all enjoyed Chapter 1!