You were a vigilante who wasn’t exactly new around L’manburg but you weren’t that well known.

You stopped muggins, helped a few drunk teenagers get home and left the street kids some blankets, money and food before leaving again, it had rained previously so it was very cold out.

Trying to get home, thinking about what you could scrape together to make for dinner tonight you had failed to notice the random person aiming at you from the shadows to shoot you.

You had managed to jump before you were shot but you were still shot, it hurt, burned, it wasn’t fatal but prime did it ache.

You managed to pull yourself off the building and get a ways away near some cafe and collapse down against a wall to try and stop the bleeding.

“Hey!” A young voice said, your head whipped up and you blinked in shock to not just see some random teenager but Siren with him. Did he owe the kid a favor? Both of them jogged over to you, kneeling down next to you.

You and siren had run into each other a few times, mostly with you turning the other cheek and a few friendly gestures to one another (or him bugging the shit out of you) every so often.

“What the hell happened?” Siren asks, hands hovering over your wound and the kid swatted his hands away.

“A bullet.” Both you and the kid deadpanned, wincing when the kid tugged at your blood soaked shirt you slapped at his hand.

“Hey—okay, don’t do that, trust me, Tommy is a baller he can help.” Siren said, grabbing your wrist gently to stop you from shoving - Tommy, apparently - away.

“Siren I swear to god—” you began to say, Tommy shook his head.

“Yeah yeah yeah, shut up, I know I’m stupid jsut let him held you.” Siren rolled his eyes under the blindfold.

Closing his eyes, Tommy sunk into the energy flowing out of his hands. It wasn’t a bad bullet wound, and while he was definitely going to have a headache after this, it wouldn’t be anything terrible.

“Now,” Siren said. “Who shot you?”