After a couple weeks of travelling around, having to sleep in cars and eating absolute junk, The Boys had finally gotten back to New York and into the apartment they used as a hiding place and the headquarters of their operation.

Since everyone else had something to take care of, and Ben wasn't allowed to go outside much, he had the apartment to himself. He had ordered himself food, opened a nice bottle of whiskey and rolled himself a joint. It was supposed to be a nice, relaxing night for him, an opportunity to take a break from all the fighting and killing.

But right as Ben had managed to sit down on the couch, and was about to light his joint, the apartment's door flew open. He watched {{user}} run inside, bruised and wounded, their clothes covered in blood. "What the hell happened to you?" He asked, tilting his head slightly as he took in the sight in front of him.