Davis dodged a quick strike from Dante as they once again engaged in what had become their almost daily sparring session. Normally, Maxwell would never have allowed two fighters to face each other this often — too one-sided, too predictable. But that didn't stop them from squaring off again in the afternoon.
Davis hadn't fully forgiven Dante yet.
He knew it had been a damned unfortunate accident. Helios had been in a bad condition — sleep-deprived for days, hyped up on that cursed tonic of his, which did more harm than good.
And Evangeline… she had been another tragic constant in the whole mess.
Of course he felt sorry for her. No one should die that young — she had been in the prime of her youth. In a better world, she would have found a suitable husband, started a family. Preferably someone who didn't bear the name Helios Vale. No matter how desperately she clung to him.
And yet — quietly, almost shamefully — a voice inside Davis whispered that maybe it was better this way. At least now, he didn't have to watch her shamelessly throw herself at his lover anymore. The thought embarrassed him instantly. Death was a part of his life, yes, but that didn't mean he wished it on anyone… or should wish it.
Helios had finally woken up four days ago. Pale, exhausted, but alive. Slowly, he seemed to be recovering. He had never been particularly strong to begin with — ate too little and regularly lost himself in his work until everything else faded into the background. Maybe — just maybe — Davis could get him to train a little now. It would be a good excuse to spend more time together, and at the same time make sure Helios stayed somewhat fit.
Davis refocused on the fight. He swung his right fist — Dante barely dodged. But Davis immediately followed up with a left hook, then quickly launched his right again — this time landing a clean hit on Dante's left shoulder.
Right where the knife had struck him.
Dante didn't even flinch. Not a single sign of pain. He didn't make a sound. Instead, he countered with a fast, precise blow that nearly knocked Davis off balance.
Davis's eyes widened in surprise.
"Damn, sorry!" he called out breathlessly, stepping back a few paces.
Dante simply shook his head slightly, as if nothing had happened. Davis swallowed hard. The man really was made of tougher stuff. The former soldier had taken a blade to the shoulder just over a week ago — five centimeters deep, if Davis remembered correctly. And now he was moving as if nothing had ever happened.
Davis felt an unpleasant tingling in his own old wounds. It had been three weeks since he'd taken a few knives himself, leaving behind deep stab wounds. Depending on how he moved, the scars pinched uncomfortably. Not painful exactly – more like a dull, numb pulling that never fully went away.
The deeper wounds still felt desensitized, strangely distant. Honestly, he shouldn't have been pushing himself this hard yet. He knew he ought to take it easy for a while longer. But doing nothing was driving him up the wall. The boredom alone was maddening, and he could feel his muscles weakening, his movements becoming stiff and sluggish.
It was frustrating. Normally, his body moved with the fluid precision of a predator – smooth, controlled. He knew exactly how to use every part of himself.
And if he was still dealing with his wounds... then Dante definitely had to be feeling his, too.
"Come on, keep going!" Dante demanded, launching another attack.
Relentlessly, he came at Davis, blow after blow, forcing him onto the defensive and giving him no time to breathe. Davis blocked automatically, parried with practiced ease, but there was barely any opening to strike back. He waited, searching for the smallest gap, the tiniest hesitation – but Dante fought like he was forged from steel.
How the hell did that guy manage to ignore the pain?
He moved like that damn knife had never touched him. Did Dante even feel pain anymore? Or had the military trained it out of him, dulled his nerves until he became untouchable?
Davis forced the thought away. Now wasn't the time for speculation. He was tired, his muscles ached, and to be honest, he just wanted this sparring session to be over. Right now, a hot shower sounded a lot more appealing than Dante's fists.
Besides, Helios was waiting for him.
Even Dante was breathing heavily by now. Sweat ran down his face in thick drops, but his gaze stayed sharp and focused. Then, without warning, he grabbed Davis by the arm and yanked him forward with surprising force. Davis stumbled, lost his balance – and in the next second, Dante's arm wrapped around his waist, spun him around with brutal speed—
The world flipped.
Davis slammed hard onto the mat.
For a moment, he lay there, gasping for air, staring up at Dante's triumphantly grinning face.
"The fight is over!" Maxwell called out in a firm voice. He had volunteered to supervise their sparring sessions – even if he often watched more than he corrected.
"Well done, both of you! You can really see how much you're improving day by day," he added with an approving nod.
Dante offered Davis his hand, and Davis took it without hesitation. With a strong tug, Dante pulled him to his feet.
"Hard to believe you were injured just two weeks ago," Davis panted, grinning wearily. "You'd never know it by looking at you."
Dante didn't reply right away. His expression was unreadable for a moment – something flickered in his eyes that Davis couldn't quite place. Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at his lips.
"Looks like your wounds aren't bothering you much anymore either," he said calmly, almost with a hint of respect.
Davis grabbed his water bottle, drank greedily, and sighed in relief.
"It's been long enough. God, I've missed this," he said, letting his gaze drift over the training hall like he'd done a thousand times before.
He never would have thought he'd miss this place – this space that smelled of old sweat, iron, and exertion, echoing with the dull rhythm of fists hitting flesh and the heavy breathing of men pushing themselves to their limits.
But this was exactly where he belonged. He finally had his routine back.
Dante also took a few deep gulps from his bottle, then set it down and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a towel.
"I know exactly what you mean," he said with a tired smile. "Nothing's more frustrating than being forced to sit still. I nearly lost my mind not being able to train. No wonder Helios is so eager to get back to work."
"Yeah, except you got stabbed and luckily missed any major organs. Helios, on the other hand, took a bullet and had internal bleeding," Davis said, exhaling slowly. "He's recovering, but he really needs to give himself more time to heal."
Dante gave him an amused look. "Sometimes you sound like his mother."
Davis flinched almost imperceptibly. A fleeting flicker of unease crossed his face. There was no way Dante could know what was really going on between him and Helios — right?
"I… I just worry about him," Davis muttered, looking away. It was definitely time to change the subject.
He cleared his throat, put on an easy grin, and smoothly shifted the subject. "Tell me, what did they feed you in the military that made you apparently immune to pain?"
Dante frowned slightly. "Regular meals. As long as they were high in calories and protein to keep us going. Why?"
"Because you always seem to recover so quickly from injuries," Davis said, shrugging as he looked at him curiously. "You just keep going, no matter what. I think that's impressive. And I can't help wondering what your secret is."
Dante went quiet. For a moment, he seemed distant, staring absentmindedly at his water bottle like it held some secret only he could see.
"Maybe…" he said slowly, "...it's just because I've been wounded so many times. Eventually, you start to go numb. Your body learns to block out the pain so you can keep moving."
"Numb, huh?" Davis repeated thoughtfully as they started walking.
Together, they left the training hall, waving goodbye to Maxwell in passing — he was overseeing a few fighters who had decided to stay behind for some extra practice.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Dante broke it. "Are we playing that game again tonight?"
Davis burst out laughing. "Didn't get enough of losing last night?"
"One round was pretty close," Dante replied with a wide grin.
"Pfft. Maybe in your dreams," Davis snorted, grinning back. "But sure — we could ask Helios if he wants to join us."
Dante raised an eyebrow, and Davis couldn't help but laugh again.
"He's a terrible loser," he said with a grin, thinking back to the game from the night before.
At some point, Helios had discarded himself in a huff and gone to bed, leaving Dante and Davis to continue playing. He'd been exhausted — it had been the first time he'd walked since the injury. Still, it had been fun to tease him a little.
It had felt normal. Like before the attack.
Even with Dante there, the evening had been unexpectedly easy. After Helios had fallen asleep, the two of them had stayed up for a while, talking quietly — about old stories, trivial things, small memories. It was late when Dante had finally said goodnight. Davis had stayed behind — sitting quietly by the bed, watching every slow, shallow rise and fall of Helios' breathing.
Helios was never really into card games. He only played to humor Davis — and even then, only with the bare minimum of patience. More often than not, he would toss his hand down in frustration when the rules or sheer luck didn't go his way.
Davis liked to use those moments to "apologize" — with affection, attention, and small touches that held meaning only between the two of them. More often than not, those apologies ended in deep kisses that led them tangled in the sheets, sweating and breathless. Helios never resisted — in fact, he seemed to enjoy the distraction. Sometimes Davis even suspected he was losing on purpose, just to invite those moments between them.
Of course, that wasn't possible now. Not yet.
Helios was recovering, yes — but his body was still weak, his movements slow, his energy limited, and his wounds far from healed. It would still be a few more weeks before they could enjoy that kind of pleasure again.
"Absolutely. I don't think I've ever seen anyone get that worked up over a card game," Dante said with a grin, shaking his head in amusement.
"Card games rely on luck and probability — two things Helios absolutely can't stand," Davis laughed. "He loves facts. Logic. Control. Anything unpredictable just drives him crazy."
"Wouldn't that apply to his work, too?" Dante asked with genuine curiosity.
Davis paused, considering. Then he nodded slowly. "In part, maybe. But research is different. He tests hypotheses, gets results — either right away or over time with studies. It's structured. Predictable. Something you can plan, analyze, and prove. Not just blind luck like a card game."
"Sounds like he really shouldn't be tempting fate," Dante said dryly.
"Couldn't agree more," Davis grinned.
He glanced at his watch. "Alright, see you in a bit — I need a shower and then it's back to my shift. We meeting at Helios's place later?"
Dante nodded. "Yeah, once I'm done showering, I'll join you. Don't forget the deck of cards!"
"You got it. See you soon!"
___
"Come in," Helios' muffled voice called from inside the room.
Davis stepped in and quietly closed the door behind him.
"Oh, Davis!" Penelope greeted him with a radiant smile. She immediately rose from the chair next to the bed and walked over to him. Her black, curly hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, and her icy blue eyes sparkled with joy. "You look great. Have you been able to rest and recover properly?"
"I'm doing well, thanks for asking," Davis replied warmly, returning her smile. "And you? Have you recovered from the attack? I heard Dante looked out for you."
"Thankfully, he was there," she sighed, her voice briefly growing quiet. "Without him, I probably would've been one of the victims."
"I'm really glad you made it out okay," said Helios from the bed. His voice was calm but sincere. "Dante gave it everything he had to get us out — especially since I couldn't do a damn thing myself."
"He's truly impressive," Penelope said softly, smiling. "With him and Davis by your side, you really don't have anything to worry about. Your injury was just… bad luck. Courtesy of Evangeline."
Helios rolled his eyes. "Yeah, if it hadn't been for her, I'd probably have walked out with nothing more than a few scratches. Maybe even on my own two feet."
They walked around the bed, and Penelope sat back down in the chair she'd been using earlier. With no regard for proper manners, she crossed her legs and casually reached for her coffee cup. Davis's eyes drifted to Helios — he looked pale. Far too pale. The signs of blood loss were still evident, even if he tried to appear composed. If Vale hadn't given him blood in time, it could've ended badly.
It had been far too close.
And yet, Helios was smiling — steady and genuine. That was Penelope's doing. She'd been here quite often, even though he'd been unconscious during each of her visits. Now that he was finally awake, she clearly wasn't wasting a second.
"How are you feeling, Helios?" Davis asked, concern evident in his voice.
"Better. The pain's more manageable, I can sit without too much trouble, and this morning Thomas helped me walk all the way to the armchair. Mostly, I'm just tired — that's all," Helios said with a soft smile.
Davis returned the smile. "That's really good to hear. I'm glad things are looking up."
"Wow, not even my mother worries about me as much as you do for Heli," Penelope teased with a grin.
Helios shot her an amused look. "Then maybe you should consider getting yourself a different bodyguard."
Penelope gave him an innocent look. "You could let me have Davis. Or Dante."
Helios burst out laughing — and immediately winced, clutching the spot where he'd been injured. "Not a chance."
Penelope gave him a mock-offended glare. "And here I thought you loved me."
"Of course I love you," he said with a grin, "but that doesn't mean I'm giving you my best men."
He turned to Davis and looked at him with quiet intensity. "No one could ever replace them for me."
Helios' words touched Davis more than he expected. Warmth bloomed in his chest, and a soft smile crept onto his lips. He cleared his throat — before he could lean down to kiss Helios, right in front of Penelope.
"By the way, Dante's dropping by soon," Davis said, smoothly changing the subject. "He'll be glad to see you on the mend."
Penelope's eyes lit up in surprise. "Really? That's perfect. I haven't had a chance to thank him yet. Every time I came by, you two were training, or he was off duty."
"He needed a bit of recovery time himself," Helios added. "A few days of rest were well deserved. And Davis over here," he nodded toward him, "seems to have developed a habit of working night shifts."
Davis grinned at Penelope. "Actually — you're lucky to be here right now. Want to play a few rounds of poker? No worries, just for fun. Dante's still learning."
Her eyes sparkled instantly. "Absolutely! But you'd better brace yourself, Davis — you won't win a single round today!"
"Finally, a real challenge!" Davis said in mock seriousness. "Maybe you're the only one who can threaten my title."
"Oh please," groaned Helios with a grin. "Put him in his place before his ego bursts."
"You're just saying that because you never beat me," Davis teased.
Helios gave him an amused look. "Today, I'm going to crush you. I can feel it."
Penelope burst out laughing. "Crush him, Heli? Seriously?"
"Exactly. He's long overdue for a proper beating at his favorite game."
Penelope laughed so hard she had to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. "Please tell me you've at least beaten him once?"
"Not a single time," Davis replied with mock regret.
"That's going to change today," Helios declared with fake confidence.
Penelope nearly fell off her chair laughing. Helios smiled quietly to himself as he watched her. Her laughter was infectious, full of life.
Davis watched the scene with a faint smile. He knew how much Penelope meant to Helios. They were like siblings, bound by a long history. As far as Davis knew, she was the only one Helios had ever truly allowed at his side. The two of them would probably do anything for each other.
"You really have the best poker face I've ever seen," Penelope giggled, "but your impatience always gives you away. Give it up, Heli — gambling just isn't your thing."
"There has to be some trick to figuring out this damned game," Helios muttered. "And once I find it, you're all doomed."
"Oh, you're going to destroy us all, huh?" Davis grinned.
Helios gave him an amused look. "Better be ready for it."
"I'm always ready when someone finally puts up real competition."
For a moment, Davis and Helios locked eyes — a brief, quiet moment of connection — before Helios turned back to Penelope and slipped into an easy conversation about the events of the past few days.
A few minutes later, Dante entered the room. Penelope jumped up immediately and threw her arms around him with a warm smile.
"Thank you," she said softly. "You saved my life."
Dante looked surprised — almost overwhelmed by the gesture. Hesitantly, he returned the hug, only relaxing when Helios gave him an encouraging nod. Then he visibly eased.
Penelope pulled him over to Helios' bed, and shortly after, the four of them began their poker game. Helios managed to maintain his poker face for quite a while — right up until Penelope laid down a Royal Flush, blowing up the round and knocking him out of the game.
His hand hadn't even been bad. If he hadn't gone all-in so confidently, he might've lasted another round or two. Instead, he let out a frustrated sigh, tossed his cards down, and grabbed a snack Thomas had brought earlier — sulking as he chewed.
Davis chuckled, and Penelope burst into loud laughter.
"He's so adorable when he sulks," she squealed. "I wish we were actually siblings — I would've spoiled you rotten!"
Helios let out a mock-huff. "If this is how you treat me now, I'd probably die from your excessive affection if we really were related."
Still, he smiled softly.
Even Dante, who was usually more reserved, seemed to gradually relax. He laughed quietly, appearing more at ease than usual.
Davis wasn't quite ready to fully forgive him — the pain was still too fresh, the memory of the incident too raw.
But in that moment, for the first time, he truly believed that they might one day become friends.
___
After Helios let out a deep, tired yawn, Penelope and Dante finally said their goodbyes. Davis stayed behind to clean up. He gathered the playing cards, collected the empty cups, and neatly arranged everything on the small table by the window — Thomas would pick it up in the morning. Then he drew the curtains, dimmed the lights, and helped Helios get ready for the night.
With a quiet, exhausted sigh, Helios sank into the bed. His emerald-green eyes looked at Davis calmly — full of warmth, full of quiet affection. Davis couldn't get enough of that look. He doubted he ever would.
"Will you lie down with me for a bit?" Helios asked softly.
Davis smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."
Helios rolled his eyes playfully. "Since when do you need my permission to lie next to me?"
"Since you almost died," Davis replied just as quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper.
He slipped off his shoes but stayed dressed otherwise, then carefully lay down beside Helios. With a soft, pained groan, Helios turned onto his side and nestled against him, a little hesitant. Their bodies aligned effortlessly — familiar, warm, alive.
It was the first time they'd truly been alone since Helios had woken up. No one would disturb them now. It was late, and even Thomas had already turned in for the night.
Davis wrapped his arm around him, gently pulling him closer. He breathed in the familiar scent of Helios — a mix of herbs, ink, and something uniquely his. The tension in Davis's shoulders slowly melted away. He was here. Helios was alive. And he was holding him in his arms.
Still, the images wouldn't leave his mind. Helios, lying motionless on the kitchen table. Drenched in blood. That memory still haunted his dreams — cold, silent, relentless.
"I'm so glad you're still alive, Helios," he whispered.
"I couldn't possibly leave you all alone," Helios murmured in return. Davis could hear the smile in his voice, and it warmed him more than he could ever admit.
"Nice that Penelope came by today," Davis said eventually, trying to shake off his thoughts.
"Yeah," Helios replied softly. "It's always good to see her."
For a while, they simply lay there in silence, pressed close together, saying nothing. Sometimes, silence was more comforting than anything words could offer.
Then, after a few minutes, Helios suddenly said, "Davis? I need to ask you something."
"What is it?"
Helios hesitated, as if unsure how to phrase it. "It's about Dante."
Davis immediately perked up. "Okay?"
"What injuries did he have after the attack? I mean… exactly."
"He had a graze on his right upper arm and… the knife that was stuck in his shoulder. That's all. Why?"
Helios gave him a piercing look. "Because I'm fairly certain he was shot."
Davis frowned. "I didn't see any gunshot wound," he said, gently running his fingers through Helios's tousled black hair. "Why do you think that?"
"The blade… it was stuck in the front of his left chest, right?"
"Pretty high up, yeah. Almost near his collarbone."
"And there weren't any other wounds? You treated him, didn't you? Or was it someone else?"
Davis thought for a moment. "Actually… there was a small, crusted-over spot just above his heart. But it looked old, mostly healed. I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with the attack."
Helios stared thoughtfully at Davis's chest, where his head was resting.
Davis pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "What are you thinking? Why do you ask if he was shot?"
Helios let out a quiet sigh. "Because I'm almost certain he took a bullet to the heart," he said. "Sometimes he acts… strange. I don't know. Maybe I imagined it."
"He's just used to treating his own wounds," Davis said in a reassuring tone. "He usually lets someone help with the first aid, but after that, he refuses any more assistance. Sometimes I wish I could do more for him. Maybe he just doesn't trust us enough yet."
Helios was quiet for a moment, then gave a vague nod. "Yeah… maybe that's it."
He closed his eyes briefly, resting his forehead against Davis's chest. "It's so frustrating how quickly I get tired," he murmured, letting out a yawn. Then he looked up at Davis with those bright green eyes, before he nuzzled his head against Davis chest again. "Will you stay with me a little longer?"
"As long as you want," Davis replied softly.
But Helios didn't answer. He had already fallen asleep, his breathing calm, his body completely relaxed.
Davis closed his eyes as he held him gently — and for the first time in days, he felt something close to peace.
___
The days passed, and Helios' condition steadily improved. His eagerness to return to the lab was barely containable — and if Vale hadn't explicitly forbidden it, he'd probably already be back at his workstation, mixing new substances with that familiar gleam in his eyes.
For now, he confined himself to reading reports and giving Theo further instructions. Davis felt a bit sorry for Theo. He already had plenty on his plate, and since Helios rarely delegated anything, he'd usually been assigned to other projects. But now, with Helios out of commission, he had to manage his mentor's main research as well — and as fast as possible, because Helios grew impatient quickly when left with nothing to do.
When he wasn't communicating with Theo or going through files, Helios tried to distract himself in other ways. Books, scientific literature, old scrolls — anything to keep his mind busy. Surprisingly, he even allowed himself to be talked into doing light rehab exercises to strengthen his weakened abdominal muscles.
Naturally, every single movement was accompanied by dramatic groaning.
"Whose bright idea was it to call these light exercises?" Helios often grumbled while Davis stood nearby with crossed arms, barely able to suppress his laughter.
"Not everyone is built like a gorilla!" Helios would mutter whenever Davis looked amused. And even though the complaints never stopped, Davis always made sure he didn't push him too far — the attack hadn't been that long ago, and his wounds were still far too fresh to take any chances.
The night shifts were a thing of the past. Helios now had only his usual guards stationed outside his door, and Davis and Dante had returned to their regular daytime duties. Dante often used these opportunities to bombard Helios with questions about his medical work — about substances, active ingredients, and mixing ratios.
To Davis' surprise — and a bit to his relief — Helios seemed to light up whenever Dante showed interest. He explained things patiently, sometimes with childlike enthusiasm, and would get completely lost in discussions about tinctures, reaction times, and rare herbs.
Davis watched the two of them with a quiet smile. He liked how well they got along. The better Dante and Helios understood each other, the more effort Dante would — hopefully — put into protecting him, if things ever got dangerous again.
Still, since that night when Helios had whispered his quiet doubts into Davis' ear, Davis had kept a watchful eye on Dante. Even though he hadn't found any signs that Dante had been shot during the attack, the thought continued to gnaw at him. Dante still refused medical check-ups — always brushing concerns off with a short "I'm fine." And since the attack, he hadn't sustained any visible injuries. Or at least, none that he'd shown.
If Davis was honest with himself, Dante hadn't done anything suspicious. Maybe he was chasing ghosts. Maybe it was time to let go of the paranoia. After all, four weeks had passed — weeks in which Dante had worked flawlessly and proven himself to be a reliable companion.
Davis sighed and came to a decision. It was time to let the doubt go. He had forgiven him. Maybe — just maybe — Dante really was someone he could trust again. Maybe he was becoming a true friend.
And that felt... good.
They were in the garden again that day. When Davis joined Helios and Dante, Helios was in the middle of giving Dante an enthusiastic introduction to entomology — as usual, butterflies and spiders. Those two groups had always fascinated him the most.
"The hunting techniques of spiders are absolutely fascinating," Davis heard Helios say. "Their venoms are highly specific, sometimes so complex we still don't fully understand them."
Dante listened attentively, nodding here and there, asking thoughtful questions. He seemed genuinely interested, while Helios spoke openly about how some of the venoms might be used in medicine — if only they could be refined and applied in the right dosage.
Davis smiled quietly as he joined them. He was glad he'd finally read that thick book on insects Helios had forced on him a few weeks ago — it allowed him not only to follow along but even to contribute to the conversation now and then.
It was truly peaceful.
And Davis hoped they would be able to enjoy that peace for a long time to come.