You should’ve expected this to happen. You’ve fought enough people to make enemies. You just didn’t expect it to happen to him.

You break into the old warehouse, running inside all too slow. Foggy is sitting limply in the center of the room, tied to a chair and covered in wounds. It was only a few hours. You were too slow.

You run over to him and he flinches from the noise, too out of it to realize who you are. At least he’s still breathing.