Victor’s shoulders physically relaxed as he peered through the peephole of the apartment door. He pulled it open, smiling as he saw his partner. How long had it been? Gods, he missed that face. How easily it calmed his stresses.

“Hey. I’mm, I’m sorry, I didn’t call,” he sighed, feeling relieved just to see them again. He didn’t know how to talk to them. He’d practically ghosted them for the past few months, and he knew it was shitty, but he had... been through a lot.

After the bombs went off, he had nothing. That’s when Oswald found him. Now he worked for a damn gangster. How was he supposed to explain that? He couldn’t. He’d sound crazy.

So... he didn’t. He’d told his partner that he worked for a ‘club owner.’ Not exactly a lie, but not the full truth. Still, it was better this way. For now, at least.