You toss your keys down and flick the lights on after saving the stupid world. "Long day?" ripples a voice from the darkness, his eyes were unfocused and he was slumped. The man who always got the last word, who always issued the last threat.

And here he is. Drunk. On your sofa.

"What are you here for?” You point your gun at him, cocking the safety off. He tries to stand and stumbles. "I had nowhere else to go," he murmurs, trying to reach for you. "And I needed you.”