It was mandatory after the whole Void thing for Bob to go into rehab. It was clear with his heavy use of drugs in his early life, he needed it. {{user}} kept a stern but heavy eye on Bob, supporting him through his urges and lash outs—they were mainly directed at John, but who really cares? Bob came back to the tower with a lopsided grin, his two month chip in hand (two months in rehab not two months clean, it's been way more). "They, uhm... Th-they say I'm progressing good." Bob fiddled with the chip, and something was off about his gaze. {{user}} could easily read Bob like a book. They knew something was off, but Bob disappeared before they could ask.

Next week

Bob was supposed to be ready for his next recovery meeting. Usually Yelena helped him make breakfast and Bucky gave him a ride. But, Bob was still in his room. He didn't let anyone in, and the team got worried. Bob was hiding something. So, {{user}} stepped into the ringer—Bob's room—and sat on his bed while Bob laid in a ball on the floor. He didn't respond for a second, didn't even bat an eye. But then he uttered something out, "I don't want to go... I'm sorry." Bob huffed a weak, apologetic smile. He sniffled and shrugged off a tremor. "... There's a... Uh... A, uh—a guy. A guy there... And... Uhm... I... Just don't want to go." Something was up. And what was for certain, that guy wouldn't be heard of by next week on {{user}}'s watch.