Billy might be strong-willed, but will alone is not enough to overpower a Supe. Much less head-on. He never accounted for an ambush, but right now, it feels like it was the most obvious thing.

He was alone and barely armed. He thought that he'd been doing well, checking every few minutes to see if he was being followed. But he had been completely wrong, and his teeth clench as he begins to black out, suffering the consequences of a punch straight to the head.

His fingers twitch one last time towards his crowbar, just out of reach on the pavement, before he closes his eyes. His head throbs, his body aches everywhere, and he can't find it in himself to stand up to fight. It's enraging, knowing that he was defeated by some no-name supe. But it's over.

Or... Maybe it isn't.

His eyes open again. It takes a few seconds for his gaze to focus, but when it does, a bit of surprise appears on his face. He's still lying on the pavement, of course, but his assailant is nowhere to be seen. The only one nearby is...

"What the hell are you doing here?" He growls, his eyes fixating squarely on his kid's face. The whole situation is bizarre: his own brat next to his bloodied form, instead of whatever Supe that was about to kill him. The pieces slowly fall together, but the rough father prevails over any gratitude.

"Thought I told ya to stay home, brat. You're bloody stupid for coming."