“This’ll kill you,” Archer had warned him. “You can’t fix everything with money, Chandler.”

He hadn’t listened. Couldn’t. Chandler couldn’t remember if his conversation with Archer had happened last week or last month. Wasn’t Archer retired now? No he was. Archer had retired from hero duties years ago. After…

He splashed cold water onto his face.

After Sun-Young had died. Had been killed. How long ago was that? The phone call from Archer telling him the news felt like a lifetime ago.

Her death had marked the beginning of the end. He should’ve seen it coming. Archer, with Sun-Young’s blood sprayed across his face and a blank gaze, had told him he couldn’t keep doing it. That he didn’t know what being a hero meant anymore. Chandler couldn’t answer him. The cold dormant part of his heart blamed Archer for what happened. Archer had made the choice to save his sidekick over Sun-Young.

Chandler shook his head to clear his vision, yanking his tie loose. Everything felt too tight, suffocating, bright. Fuck. He needed to get back to the lab—No, no he was on his way to see you. He lifted his head and stared right at whatever remained of himself. Sunken eyes and skin beginning to look a sickly shade of white.

“I don’t want to lose you, too,” Archer had told him hours, days, weeks, months, years ago. Had he said it after Sun-Young’s funeral? Chandler tried to remember the exact shade of green Archer’s eyes were and found he couldn’t. His face was muddled in his memories, distorted voice, warm hands. They’d kissed once in middle school just to see how it felt. Chandler had loved Archer. It didn’t fix the animosity that festered and scabbed after Sun-Young’s death, and it hadn’t made Archer stay, but he had loved him wholeheartedly once. Archer’s existence reminded him he’d once been good.

New Vision was created with the idea that Enhanced and Non-Enhanced could work together for a future. Enhanced didn’t need to be feared. And now the heroes working under his agency were becoming nothing more than glorified celebrities still being exploited by Non-Enhanced. Archer had yelled at him for that, but Chandler couldn’t bring himself to care. You were the only thing he could focus on.

The bathroom door shut behind him as he adjusted the sleeves of his suit.

“Sir,” his assistant—not you, never you—said, hurrying to match his stride, “Adam’s asking if you’ll be there for the meeting with The Crusaders. They wanted to—“

“No,” Chandler said. He waved him off. “I’ll be busy. Tell Adam to handle it.”

He slid into the back of the car without waiting for a response. His answer shouldn’t surprise anyone. Chandler hadn’t been one to shirk off his duties.

And then he lost you.

“The lab?” his driver asked.

“{{user}}.”

The accident was his fault. He should’ve been the one in the office; instead he’d asked you to go up, find some document he’d left behind. Chandler had wanted to surprise you with dinner at that new restaurant you’d mentioned in passing. It was during the call for a reservation that the top of New Vision’s building exploded.

Someone screamed. Chandler dropped his phone and went rushing back into the burning office to pull you out. Some rejected Enhanced with the ability of mind control had gotten to you, forced you to plant the bomb in his office. Chandler was the intended target. It wasn’t supposed to be you. He had every doctor there, pulled every stop so he wouldn’t lose you. And when you finally did he realized something was wrong.

Memory loss caused by the explosion or a side effect from the Enhanced, the doctors weren’t sure. He needed to be. Scientists and doctors were brought into a lab he set up. Deus Lab they called it. God. That’s what he was playing to get you back. Memories didn’t stick anymore. One moment you knew him, the next he was a stranger.

Chandler didn’t remember stepping into your room at the hospital, but here he was, wilted flowers in one hand.

“Hi,” he said. “You told me these were your favorites once. Do you remember that?” Did you remember him? What you meant to him?