CHAPTER SIX
Rocko
After Apollo left, Rocko spent the rest of his evening alone with his thoughts and concluded his best course of action was inaction.
Yes. He’d decided to do nothing. To make it through the remainder of the time he had left at the compound, return to Florida, and determine what the hell to do with his life after that.
Here he could do the work— the construction site setup was like any other he’d ever worked on for his uncle, so helping wasn’t a problem for him.
Hell, he’d spent many summer breaks working for his uncle’s construction company to make a little extra money and help his family out.
With his decision made, he made breakfast in the trailer, then headed to the construction site. Whether or not he and Apollo had some freaky effect on each other, it made no difference. The wind may have affected the water, making waves, but each survived separately.
With that thought in mind, he was ready for some physical labor. A hard day’s work was what the doctor ordered.
“Where do you need me?” Rocko asked Griffin when he arrived.
“There’s no need for you,” Griffin growled. “But if you’re hell-bent on helping, go over and carry those shingles up to the roof. We need to get the place watertight in case we get any more snow or rain.”
“Good fucking morning to you too,” Rocko muttered while giving him a two-finger salute. He went over to where the shingle bundles were stacked on large pallets. He figured he could easily shift them, weighing between fifty and eighty pounds each. He lifted more in the gym.
Hendrix welcomed him in his typical good-natured way, grabbed a couple of bundles of shingles, and headed for the ladder. Rocko did the same. The hard work was welcomed after the stress of his normal life.
It was refreshing to not think for a while and simply work his butt off.
Soon, his jacket was off as he began to work up a sweat, and Rocko breathed deep, taking in the fresh, crisp air before grabbing another couple of bundles of shingles.
Slugging up and down the ladder gave his legs one hell of a workout, and the burn was welcomed after years of working as a detective and riding a desk.
Hours flew by as he worked in silence, and Rocko quickly picked up the routine and kept up with the team easily. He’d be damned if he shirked his duties, but knew he’d be feeling the strain tomorrow. Muscles he hadn’t worked this hard in a long time gave their all, and Rocko loved it.
“How you holding up?” Griffin scoffed. “Need a break?”
“Doing good, thanks. Don’t need a break yet, but I’ll let you know if I do, boss,” Rocko said, as Griffin gave him an annoyed look. Sorry to disappoint, Beast Boy. I’d rather put myself in traction than admit defeat to you.
Rocko was down on the ground about to grab another bundle when he saw Ellen, Renee, and Francine walking up from the main cabin with trays of sandwiches and drinks.
Surprised it was already lunchtime, he wiped his hands on his jeans as his stomach growled in anticipation.
Food would be good. As Rocko changed direction toward his lunch, he noticed a stack of shingles had been left teetering on the barn roof’s edge above the women approaching on the trail.
Shit. That’s a fucking accident waiting to happen.
As he thought this, the stack began to fall.
Renee was in their path. Christ, that could kill her!
Running forward, he managed to shove Renee back and out of the way as the bundles fell. One hundred and sixty pounds fell two stories onto Rocko’s back, flattening him into the still-frozen ground.
He tried to get up, but his body struggled. He heard his old drill sergeant yelling at him in his head. “A downed man is a useless man. Get the fuck up.”
He tried to catch his breath, but his lungs screamed in pain. Realizing he’d likely broken a few ribs, he prayed none had punctured his lungs in the process. He coughed, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. Fuck. Never a good sign.
Rocko heard people yelling and felt the weight lifted off his back, but the pain was so overpowering that his vision blurred, and his ears rang; he’d be unconscious within seconds.
“Hang on, Rocko. We’ve got you,” Griffin said from somewhere above him. Not the person he’d expected.
“Is… is Renee…k?” he asked.
“Yes, lie still.”
“K.” Like he had a choice. Reality hit. Rocko was likely going to die lying face down in the mud surrounded by strangers. Huh. Feels about right for me.
Everything went dark.
***
Apollo
“Who the fuck left those shingles there?” Apollo shouted as he knelt beside Rocko. He swallowed his horror at the state of the man.
“Shit, I didn’t realize I laid those last bundles of shingles so close to the edge, man,” Hendrix said in horror. “I saw food and booked it down the ladder. I’m sorry. Shit. What can I do to help?”
Apollo glared at him. “You know better,” he growled, itching to punch Hendrix’s lights out at what he’d done to Rocko.
“Rocko pushed me out of the way,” Renee said. “Or that would have landed on me. Move. I need to heal him.”
Apollo heard Rocko’s labored breathing and saw the blood flowing from his nose and mouth. It didn’t look good.
Renee’s hands hovered over Rocko’s back. “Shit, he’s got four broken ribs, and both lungs are punctured. Two discs in his spine have been crushed, and he’s bleeding internally. I’ll stabilize him, then we need to move him to a bed where I can continue.”
“Do it,” Apollo ordered, and Renee’s hands began to glow over Rocko’s back.
After roughly ten minutes, his breathing eased slightly. Hendrix stood by anxiously.
“Okay, we can move him now. Careful,” Renee instructed.
Apollo gently turned Rocko over to reveal the blood pooled under his head.
As gently as possible, he slid his arms underneath the still-unconscious man and lifted him into his arms. He headed straight for the main cabin.
Apollo had the largest bed on the property due to his size, and that’s where he was heading.
It would be the most comfortable place for Rocko to heal and give Renee room to move.
No one argued with him as he went, and Griffin ran ahead to open the doors. Renee stayed by his side with a single glowing hand over Rocko’s chest. Apollo barely felt the weight as he took the stairs two at a time.
Griffin opened Apollo’s bedroom door, and he brought the severely injured man inside and laid him on his bed.
“I need a better look at his back,” Renee said.
Griffin extended one sharp claw and quickly cut Rocko’s shirt from his body.
With Griffin and Hendrix’s help, Apollo rolled Rocko onto his side while Renee placed her hands along his back, where they began glowing again.
Without his shirt on, it was easy for Apollo to see the misshapen bones and swelling bulging under Rocko’s skin.
Shit. He grimaced. It had to be incredibly painful.
He was glad Rocko was unconscious. He wanted to reach out and comfort the man, tell him he’d be okay, but the words wouldn’t come.
Ellen ran in with a bowl of water and towels. “What can I do?”
“Take his boots off for me. The more we can make him comfortable, the easier this will be for him,” Renee answered.
“On it,” Ellen said as she undid his boots and pulled them off.
“What’s the prognosis?” Apollo asked, nervous at the pained expression on Renee’s face.
“Pretty banged up, but I think I’ll be able to fix him,” Renee said. “It’ll take some time to go through the many damaged layers of tissue and bone. My main concern is stopping his hemorrhaging and repairing his lungs enough so he can breathe easier.”
Apollo knew if Renee wasn’t a healer, Rocko would likely have died from such severe injuries before they made it even close to the emergency room.
Even then, modern medicine wouldn’t have been able to fix the damage fast enough to stop his lungs from filling with blood, choking him until he stopped breathing entirely.
“He risked his life to save someone he barely knows,” Damon said soberly from the open doorway. Xavier stood with him in the hallway. “That alone makes him a good man.”
“I’m beginning to think that too,” Apollo said honestly.
Please let him be okay.
Renee worked for a couple of hours until she could barely keep her eyes open, and Apollo ordered her to rest. Rocko was stable enough to survive but would require more healing once she’d gotten her strength back.
He settled into a chair beside the bed as the others returned to the barn construction with a bit more caution.
At times, it was easy to forget that despite their abilities, they were still mortal and could be hurt and even killed.
Memories of Robin, Damon’s boyfriend, went unbidden through his thoughts.
Xavier’s father, Solomon, and other Noah Group goons had killed their friend back when they lived in New Orleans after Robin had been caught tailing Solomon.
Through the notes left behind, it was determined that Xavier himself was a prisoner and test subject of his father but had desperately tried to save Robin before the group drugged him into unconsciousness.
Robin had been a good man, a survivor who could affect someone’s choices through his voice.
Though he’d never used it against innocent people, it came in handy when investigating the group.
The bastards had sewn his mouth shut with fishing line before killing him.
Brick and his team had helped Apollo and his people stop Solomon’s plans to kidnap more survivors to harness their powers, and they aided the team in exacting their revenge for Robin’s death.
Apollo couldn’t stop his mind from drifting back to the last time he’d seen his friend alive.
Robin and Damon had been curled up on a couch in the team’s old home back in New Orleans, watching some eighties television sitcom and laughing at the old jokes.
Damon had his arm casually draped over Robin’s shoulder as the two shared a bag of chips.
It was as normal as any other day. Conversations carried on around the room, plans were being made and futures discussed.
The Noah Group had been making their presence known in the city, and Apollo had been keeping a close eye on them.
They all knew that something was brewing just under the surface calm.
“Should we be posting someone over by that bar that popped up last month?” Damon asked.
“Yeah, Ace has been able to confirm that Noah Group goon, Solomon, has his dirty hands all over it,” Robin added.
Griffin growled. “Can’t believe the fuckers moved into our neighborhood.”
“We’re likely the reason they’re here,” Apollo answered.
“Why can’t they just leave us alone?” Renee asked. “Haven’t they done enough damage?”
“I don’t think it will ever be enough for those bastards,” Griffin said.
“We can never allow our guard down,” Apollo said. “We’ll run rotations at this bar and over at Solomon’s home to watch for any unusual activity. But don’t engage any of them on your own.”
“We’ll work out shifts,” Griffin said.
“I’ve got nothing coming up so I’ll take first shift,” Robin offered.
“Okay. Be careful and stay out of sight,” Apollo ordered.
“They’ll never know I was there,” Robin chuckled.
Unfortunately, Robin had been wrong. There wasn’t even a body left behind for them to bury. No headstone. No chance to say goodbye.
For hours, Apollo watched the rise and fall of Rocko’s chest. Even now, injured and unconscious, his presence provided Apollo with peace, confirming that it wasn’t intentional on Rocko’s behalf and making him feel guilty.
Not knowing for sure if it required any extra energy on Rocko’s part, he still couldn’t bring himself to leave the man. This was insane.
“How is he?” Griffin asked from the doorway a couple of hours later.
“No change,” Apollo said. “How’s Renee feeling?”
“I had to force her to stay in bed and rest, or she’d be back at it. She’s stubborn. Her usual self.”
“Renee’s no good to herself or anyone else if she doesn’t get some rest.”
“That’s what I told her. She finally agreed to stay put for now. Who knows how long that’ll last.”
Instead of leaving, Griffin took a few steps farther into the room.
“Is there something else?” Apollo asked.
“I wasn’t even civil to him, but he still saved my sister.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t get it.”
“We’re not accustomed to people doing selfless acts for us.” Sad fact but true.
“There’s always been strings attached, or they’ve had ulterior motives involved. No one does something for nothing. You know?”
“Have we become so cynical we can’t see past our issues?” Apollo asked. “We’re even more fucked up than I thought.”
“We’ve been conditioned to suspect any act of kindness or assistance. It’s always ended badly for us. We either get hurt or dead.”
“Yeah, it’s been a shit show. In the face of everything we’ve been through, I don’t believe we can change that now.”
“It’s saved our skin many times over,” Griffin huffed as he ran the palm of his hand down his face.
“I’m tired. I’m tired of having to fight for every inch.
We’ve traveled down a shitty road full of dangers without a break for a long time.
It turned us into what we are: angry, untrusting, violence-prone individuals.
It was bound to happen when you can count on one hand the times you’ve received a charitable act in your lifetime. ”
Apollo understood his best friend’s internal struggle. It matched his own.
“We’ve watched people we care about disappear, hunted down, and killed,” Griffin said. “I can’t bear losing one more. I’m done.”
“That’s what we fight to ensure. The place we’re creating here needs to be a refuge for those like us, too jaded to believe there’s actually any good left in the world. We have to do better, more. Let this be the catalyst for change.”
Griffin nodded as he lost himself in thought. Moments later, Rocko began moaning and mumbling in his sleep.
“Should I get Renee?” Griffin asked, immediately on alert.
“I don’t sense he’s in any increased pain,” Apollo said, touching Rocko’s arm. “He’s dreaming.”
“No more,” Rocko groaned before falling back into a deep sleep.
“Agreed,” Griffin said, even though Rocko couldn’t hear him.
“Agreed,” Apollo seconded.