After five minutes, Henrik had finished explaining to Scar why they ended up breaking into her apartment.
He told her about his past as a hero turned deserter, about Rhett's mission to save the people on his list, how they pretended to be zombies to avoid Claudette's wrath and how that led them into the arena, with the gates shut behind them.
"So, do you know how we can escape?" Henrik leaned forward as he sat on the futon on the floor.
Scarlet leaned forward, plucking what looked like a cigarette box and a lighter from between the layers of the futon and set a cig alight. She brought it to her lips and took in a breath before puffing it out.
Under the dull orange light, the smoke coiled from her mouth like a dragon's breath. Her robe clung to her frame, but her expression stayed unreadable—cool, like someone who'd seen too much. Rhett couldn't help but think she looked like those dangerous harlots from Chinese brothel scenes on TV, the kind who always knew more than they let on.
Henrik motioned for her to share a cig. She eyed him for a couple seconds, and then relented, passing him a joint. Henrik promptly accepted it, and with a lighter fused with his skin, he lit it up.
"Thought you 'surrendered' when you dropped all your weapons back at the old bathroom?" Scarlet said, raising an eyebrow.
"I didn't think you'd be dull enough to think we'd leave ourselves completely defenseless." Henrik retorted as he blew out a puff of smoke, this time without entering a coughing fit, as he flicked the lighter merged with his body on, the small fire smoldering with mock menace.
Rhett held his breath, hoping Scarlet wouldn't take offense at the joke, but surprisingly to him she let out a small laugh and took another puff.
Rhett's eyes went back-and-forth between them. When did Henrik become able to... understand human emotions? He never thought he could handle a casual conversation, much less one with the dangerous sex worker in front of them that had temporarily decided not to kill them.
"If there was a way to escape, we'd all been gone by now." Scarlet finally said, scoffing as the air began to be filled with the scent of cheap tobacco. "Grand has his strongest people at the edges of this district. Not to mention the walls that he somehow erected within the span of a day to keep any help from coming in, and to keep us from going out."
Scarlet sighed, taking another puff. "If you get caught, you either get killed, if you're quirkless, or taken to the arena, if you do have a quirk. There is no escape. There's enough bodies dumped in the sewer system to testify to that."
Rhett gulped at the implications. This was worse than they thought. But, they were here now. They might not be the strongest, but they had a source of information willing to talk to them. He flexed his remaining fingers—the phantom pain from his missing digits still sending sharp jolts up his arm. "What's the arena like?"
"Trust me kid. You don't wanna know." Scarlet forced out a bitter laugh as she lit another cig, the flame briefly illuminated her face, casting sharp shadows under her cheekbones. "Well, unless you're a sick fan of gore."
"I'm not." Rhett tried saying sheepishly to lighten the mood, but his voice cracked shakily. He was still reeling from the punches that Henrik gave him, and the weight of everything he told him.
Not to mention he was still missing two fingers.
"So let me guess, people fight to the death until one comes victorious?" Rhett tried.
"Bingo." Scarlet congratulated dryly as she walked to one of the cabinets and pulled out a bottle of something amber-colored, pouring herself a glass. She didn't offer any to them. "I don't know how, but you've got to find a way to leave at midnight. That's when the guards are least serious, drinking or busy with the women still left here until it's time to throw away their lives. The arena battles start at 2am. Unless you want to fight, you have to lay low and make sure you don't get caught since there's a special set of guards in charge of making sure everybody is at the arena."
Her eyes narrowed like a cat's slits as she gazed at them. "Unless, you want to fight?"
"I'd rather not." Rhett laughed nervously as sweat beaded down his forehead. With the dim lights and minimalistic furniture, the room was starting to feel claustrophobic as Scarlet went into detail.
He could already imagine the woman tearing through opponents with her mysterious quirk that tore through Rhett's fingers, blood spraying in every direction.
Rhett would survive, obviously, but he wouldn't like to experience it. He had already gone through far too much pain that didn't directly contribute to his directive. He had died more than enough times for several lifetimes and would rather not do it again unless it was absolutely necessary.
"But you fight there?" Henrik said gruffly, cutting through the tension.
Scarlet's features tightened, but Rhett could clearly see the exhaustion and frustration between the lines. "I do what I have to to survive. And for my... the kids. And most times that's still not enough."
"A girl can only fight so much before she breaks down." Scarlet sighed tiredly, motioning to the bandage on her bicep. "Which is why when I can't fight anymore, I... tolerate people like Swine."
Rhett nodded sympathetically. He remembered Swine minutes ago saying he hoped they didn't meet on opposite sides of the arena. If that monster of a man was going to be fighting in that hellhole, that was even more reason for Rhett not to be there.
"Wait, did you say kids?" Rhett spoke up, and at the same moment, a door creaked open.
Henrik and Rhett's head swiveled to where the noise came from. Slowly, a little head poked from the gap between the door and the frame.
"Can we come out now, Scarl?" a small voice piped up—young, maybe eight or nine, filled with cautious hope.
"Yes, dear." Scarlet said, stubbing the cigarette against the floor and hiding it between the futon cushions.
"Who are those guys?" Another voice said, and this time Rhett vaguely recognized it. It was the voice that found him when the duo first broke into the house.
"They're not dangerous. You guys can come." Scarlet confirmed as she stood up, picking up the bottle and the glass and keeping it back in their cabinets.
As she walked, Rhett found himself watching her movements—The way her elegant, flawless legs moved across the wooden floorboards. The way her loose red robe shifted against her hips with every step she took, the way her—
"Hey. Stop gawking." Henrik said, breaking Rhett out of his thoughts as he nudged the immortal boy with his elbow. Even if Henrik didn't mean harm, the jab still felt painful against his bruised ribs. "Didn't you say you were married?"
"Oh, y-y-yeah." Rhett muttered under his breath. After everything that Henrik said to Rhett, he was almost sure that the boy completely hated him for bringing him to life, but Henrik didn't seem to be holding a grudge.
Simultaneously, he began to think of Lucille. Sweet Lucille, who was still in the Clocktower where he told her to wait for him. What was she thinking of right now? Where was the boy who had promised to save her? What if Henrik was right? Lucille had made that promise with the version of Rhett before he had been given his quirk.
She was up in the Clock tower, no doubt seeing everything that was going on below. Did she really believe that Rhett, without a quirk, and no other outstanding qualities, could save her?
Could even this current version, with a quirk, save her?
Or maybe... maybe Lucille still thought herself too powerless, too weak to protect herself on her own. Maybe that would make her stay in the Clocktower for as long as possible until rescue came in the form of Rhett.
'And what then?' He thought. Brookside was already ruined, most cities were either already destroyed or in the process of, and the only place that was somewhat truly safe was the Capital in the center of the country. They had no money to get there, so they would have to constantly hop between cities, until they could no longer run away.
But maybe... Maybe they didn't need to live the rest of their life happily together. Maybe they just needed one week. One day. One moment even. He never even got a chance to hold or hug her. To kiss her. To...
"Oh, you made dinner?" Scarl asked, her voice lighter with the children as the blond girl walked into the room with a smile on her face, breaking Rhett out of his train of thought.
"Yup!" The girl said, her voice no longer as apprehensive as it was when she was peeking out of the door moments ago, having determined that Rhett and Henrik were no longer threats. "It's beef soup, thought you'd like it."
"I do like it, Bree. I like it very much." Scarlet said as she ran her fingers through the little girl's hair, picking up the bowl from her hands. Even from a couple feet away, Rhett could smell the aroma. It smelled spicy, and a little earthy, and his mouth started watering since he hadn't eaten to refuel his regenerated empty stomach.
When Bree came closer, Rhett was finally able to make out her features. She had a round face and a bubbly smile. Her blond hair had been done into braids that fell over her bright, wide eyes. It was almost jarring seeing such a bright smile coming towards him against all he had seen in his brief period in Grand's domain.
"Who are you guys?" Bree asked, her eyes wide with curiosity. "I haven't seen any of you here before."
"Well we're—"
"We're just some guys that got lost and are asking your mom for directions." Henrik answered calmly, interrupting Rhett. When was Henrik able to speak with children?
"I'm not their mom." Scarlet replied quickly, almost too quickly as Rhett noticed she looked a bit flustered. "I don't have kids. I just take care of them. They're just... lost souls I protect."
"Ah. Sorry for the mistake." Henrik apologized.
"Right. And this is even more reason I can't let you guys stay." Scarlet said, sitting back down on the futon as she sniffed the soup before taking a sip from the bowl. Her features calmed for a second, and then her eyes refocused on them. "Children below thirteen can't fight for their tribute, which is the only somewhat humane law Grand has passed since his time here, so I'm already chewing on more than I can bite with these three."
When she said that, Bree looked down at her feet guiltily. When Scarlet noticed, she brought her into a short hug and kissed her cheek, to show she didn't resent the fact. "The highest I can do for you young men is to let you stay until twelve. Then you leave. I'm not your mother, so I can't provide food for you. You'll have to fight or die in the arena for tribute. Understand?"
Rhett's throat dried. According to Scarlet, that meant they'd have to fight in the arena by two o'clock in the morning, which wasn't that far away. Escaping from here was practically not an option, so did they really have a choice?
But wait—Rhett straightened slightly. He was being passive again, letting Henrik and Scarlet decide their fate. That wasn't like him. "What if we helped you somehow? Protected the kids while you fight?"
Scarlet's eyes flicked to him, measuring. "And what exactly could two beaten-up refugees do that I can't?"
Henrik shot Rhett a warning look, but Rhett pressed on. "I heal fast. Henrik's tactical. Maybe we're not the strongest, but we're not completely useless either."
Henrik nodded thoughtfully. "That's fair. You've done more than most would—especially after the whole window thing."
Scarlet narrowed her eyes. "You're not done, are you?"
"Not quite," Henrik admitted. "There's one more thing I'd like to ask."
Scarlet blinked, deadpan. "I just said no. You think asking twice will change the answer?"
Henrik sighed, caught. "But, I would also like to request something else."
Scarlet's eyes narrowed further. "I don't like the sound of that. But I'll hear you out. What is it?"
"I'd like to request you to let us stay in your apartment for the time being. We won't rely on your tribute, just the housing."
"Didn't you hear a word I said? I don't care if you rely on our tribute or not, you're not staying in my house any longer. I ain't running a charity here."
'Yeah, what are you going on about, Henrik?' Rhett wanted to ask. Scarlet had already made it clear that they left by twelve. So what was Henrik still trying to do asking again?
"I know you're not offering a charity." Henrik replied slowly. "Which is why I'm offering something in return."
Rhett turned to face him. Offering something? What did they have in their possession apart from themselves?
Scarlet's eyes held no emotion, but Rhett could still see that glint. That spark of human curiosity. Her interest was peaked. "Go on? Though I won't guarantee anything."
"Of course, eh—" Henrik started saying, then shot Rhett an uncomfortable look. "Sorry, Rhett, but you can't hear this."
"Huh? Can't hear what? Are you hiding something from me?" Rhett said, a sharp edge creeping into his voice. After everything they'd been through, Henrik was still keeping secrets?
But Henrik was already standing and walking to Scarlet's side. Then he began whispering something in her ear, and for the first time since Rhett had met her, her eyes widened.
Then she shook her head, her eyes already dimming. "You can't be serious." He heard her muttering, and then Henrik opened his palm, blocking Rhett's view with the other one, and Scarlet's eyes widened even further.
A faint metallic glint caught the orange light—something small and cylindrical in Henrik's palm. Rhett caught just a glimpse before Henrik's other hand blocked his view completely, but whatever it was made Scarlet's entire posture change.
"And this will protect the kids? If something happens?" Scarlet asked, apprehensive, but something new sparked in her expression. Something he hadn't seen on anyone since he entered the arena district, since the war started, and honestly, maybe even before then.
He saw hope.
"Like you said, I can't promise anything." Henrik replied diplomatically, "but I can assure you I'll do my best to protect those you protect. If you live up to the other side of the bargain, of course."
Scarlet's eyes closed in thought while Rhett racked his brain on what could Henrik have possibly shown Scarlet to make her actually consider taking them in. Money? Some kind of weapon?
He was sure he had been by his side for a majority of the time, and hadn't seen him snatch something particularly impressive to warrant such an expression from Scarlet. So was it something from before he met Rhett?
But... still. Rhett wasn't as disillusioned to believe that they were 'friends', especially after how their friendship started out. But they were a team, protecting each other, for mutual benefits of course. Rhett had even brought him back from the dead for crying out loud. They were comrades, so what else was Henrik hiding that was important that Rhett didn't know?
The phantom pain in his missing fingers throbbed, reminding him of all the secrets people kept, all the ways they could hurt you when you trusted them.
After a minute of silence, Scarlet reopened her eyes, her velvet irises sharp with determination as she spoke.
"You may stay at our home for the time being."