"Isaac!!"
The door burst open, slamming against the wall with a resounding crack. Patricia barely noticed the startled nurses throwing her disapproving glances before they silently left the room. Her world had narrowed down to the battered man lying in that hospital bed.
Her breath hitched at the sight of him.
Bandages wrapped around his torso, his left arm bruised and stitched. A cut traced the edge of his jawline, barely healed, and his usually sharp blue eyes were weighed down with exhaustion. Yet, despite it all, despite the hell he had just escaped, he smirked.
"Damn, Sweeches," Isaac groaned, shifting slightly in bed. "Did you have to barge in like that? This is a hospital, for Pete's sake. People are supposed to be resting and not being yelled at. This is not the place for hooliganism...oww, the hell?! What are you hitting me for?"
Patricia's glare sharpened as she pulled back from the hard slap against his chest. "That's for being reckless and scaring me half to death!"Her voice trembled, fury barely masking the overwhelming relief coursing through her.
Patricia's hands trembled as she lowered them, her chest tightening with too many emotions to name. "Do you even know what I went through, Isaac? Every second, every minute felt like hell! Knowing you were out there, captured by those goons, those monsters. Being tortured or maimed, with God knows what!". She took a deep breath and continued. "How could you be so reckless! How could you put yourself in danger like that. Do you know how much I suffered thinking and wondering if I....if I...if I'd ever see you again! I was..."
Her voice cracked as she squeezed her fists, but it didn't stop the tears from slipping down her cheeks.
Isaac's smirk faded.
Gently, he reached forward, his fingers brushing against her chin, lifting her face toward him.
His touch was warm. Steady.
Through tear-blurred eyes, Patricia met his gaze.
Blue, deep, unwavering and alive.
Isaac exhaled softly, brushing away the moisture on her cheeks with his thumb. "Hey…" His voice was quieter now, lower. "I'm here, Sweeches. I'm okay see hmm...."
Patricia let out a shaky breath, shaking her head. "No! You weren't okay, Isaac. You nearly di..."
Isaac's index finger pressed lightly against her lips, silencing her. He sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before wiping away the fresh tears that dared to fall.
"Hush, Sweeches. Don't say that." His voice was soothing, almost pleading. "I'm alive. See? I'm okay. Nothing serious happened."
His lips curled into that familiar teasing grin, the one that drove her insane. "Besides, I thought you knew your charming knight and his prowess very well. You really think I'd let them take me down that easily? You're the champion of derby racing, and I'm the champion of 'kicking villains' butts' and ruining their plans. That's my mojo and I am proud of it."
Patricia swallowed hard, shaking her head in disbelief as she studied his bruised, battered, yet still smirking face.
"Mojo... smoojo!" she muttered. "Captain Underpants was more careful than you! You're a reckless wrecking ball! A complete goofus!" She chuckled, swallowed hard, blinking through her remaining tears.
Isaac chuckled, and for the first time since entering the room, Patricia found herself laughing, through the lingering tears, through the exhaustion.
Then, before she could stop herself, she launched forward, wrapping her arms tightly around him.
Ignoring his grunt of pain, ignoring the way her fingers gripped at his hospital gown like a lifeline.
Isaac stiffened at first, then melted into her embrace, his uninjured arm wrapping gently around her waist.
Patricia buried her face in his shoulder, breathing him in, his warmth, his scent, his presence.
He was here. He was safe. And she wasn't letting go.
"Damn… at least 'Captain Underpants' wasn't this lucky. Didn't have a special someone worrying and waiting for him. Guess I'm the luckiest guy in the world. But seriously, though… these wounds are killing me....owww."
Hearing Isaac's protest, Patricia gently disengaged from him, embarrassment creeping onto her flushed cheeks.
"Oh I am sorry...I guess I got carried away in the moment there."
Patricia then traced her fingers on his injuries and tears threatened to fall again.
"Oh...Isaac...why did this have to happen to you? You must be in a lot of pain."
Isaac exhaled. "I am. But… there's a cure for that. A special medicine. Something only my princess can deliver...a beautiful, nice, sweet—"
He was cut off by the touch of soft lips pressing against his own.
Patricia withdrew almost instantly, looking down shyly, her cheeks burning red with a blush.
Isaac cleared his throat, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Hmm… I was going to say a beautiful, nice, sweet and lovely smile every day. But… this works too. Oww, and actually—I kind of need another dose right now… my lips are killing me."
Patricia chuckled, playfully nudging his chest. "But there's no single bruise on your lips, silly."
Isaac grinned, pulling her toward him by the waist. "Ah, but the lips speak for the whole body when they say… they need that medicine again. Pronto."
Patricia laughed, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
"And you love me for it." replied Isaac and he captured Patricia's lips with his own.
What had started as a dreary, pain-ridden moment dissolved into something softer, something needed. With both placing their worries and fears aside, indulging in their passionate kissing, their solace.
For now...
.....
Meanwhile at Jonathan's house...
CRASH!!
Glass shattered, furniture upended, rage tore through the room like a violent storm.
"You useless pieces of trash!!!" Mr. X bellowed, his voice raw with fury.
His glare burned into the man standing before him, his body stiff with fear.
"How could you let him escape?! How could you let him get away!! Do you have any idea what 'El Diablo Enmascarado de Plata' will do to us if we don't find him?! He will kill us all!! Now...WHERE THE HELL IS VIPER?!"
The man swallowed hard. "H-he went after the Black Tulip, Boss."
Mr. X's nostrils flared. "And there's still no news from him?"
"No… no, Boss." the man stammered.
Silence.
Then...bang!
A gunshot cracked through the air.
The man collapsed to the floor, clutching his bleeding leg, his screams slicing through the heavy atmosphere.
Mr. X exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around the gun as he loomed over him. "The next bullet will be in your brain if I don't get results RIGHT NOW.!!"
"Y-yes, Boss! Right away!" The man stammered, dragging himself toward the door, his hands shaking as he scrambled out of the room.
Mr. X grunted, frustration clawing at his chest. He pivoted sharply, striding toward Jonathan's bedroom.
Without hesitation, he trashed everything in sight, papers scattering, glass cracking under his boots as he flipped the bed, tore apart the dressing table. His fury was relentless, a whirlwind of destruction.
Then...something caught his eye.
A small, folded document.
He paused, crouching down. Beneath it, a rusty key lay half-buried among the wreckage.
His fingers curled around it, weighing it carefully before unfolding the document. His eyes skimmed the contents.
His breath hitched.
"What the hell…" he whispered, his brows knitting together.
He quickly refolded the paper, slipping it into his pocket, but just as he turned to leave, something else tugged at his attention.
The wardrobe was slightly shifted, leaving behind a measurable gap.
He narrowed his eyes, stepping closer. His fingers pressed against the wood, pushing the wardrobe aside.
A tiny keyhole gleamed from the wall.
Without hesitation, he slid the rusty key into place and twisted.
A soft click resounded, the concealed door creaked open, revealing a dim, untouched space.
He stepped inside, flipping the light switch.
Pink plastered furniture filled the room, delicate and eerily pristine, but almost empty.
His fingers tightened around the document. He pulled it out once more, scanning its words as his gaze flickered across the quiet, hidden chamber.
A realization hit him, sharp and cold.
He didn't hesitate.
With urgency pounding through his veins, Mr. X stormed out of the house, throwing himself into his car.
The tires screeched against the pavement as he tore away at full speed ahead.
.....
Meanwhile…
A silver Mercedes tore through the city streets, its engine roaring as it sped through the darkened roads.
The driver looked to be in a big hurry to reach their destination. However to the driver's dismay, a traffic light forced them to come to a stop.
His teeth clenched. He slammed the brakes, the car jerking to a stop.
"Come on… come on, change already," he muttered under his breath, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel in frustration.
A small voice piped up from the backseat.
"Mommy… why did we stop? Are we still going to Fairyland? When am I going to get the beautiful princess dress you said you'd buy for me? Mommy… are we still leaving… when are we leaving…? Mommy…"
The driver's fingers curled tighter around the wheel.
Then, "Oh, shut up!!"
He turned sharply in his seat, his voice cutting through the quiet of the car.
"For the last time! And for the sake of sanity! Stop calling me Mom! Just call me Jonathan or uncle Jonny. Okay! You are not allowed to call me that ever! Understand!" Shouted Jonathan.
The little girl flinched, her wide brown eyes filling with shock. She sat clutching a worn brown teddy bear, her small fingers tightening around its plush form. Her short wavy hair framed her delicate features, her pink flower-printed dress stark against the dim glow of the streetlights.
Jonathan's chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. His frustration boiled over, but the moment he saw the fear in her eyes, and the tears streaming down her cheeks, regret followed swiftly.
He exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face.
Then, gentler now, he reached forward, brushing a shaky hand against her soft cheek.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to yell." His voice softened further, coaxing her down from her trembling. "Shh, it's okay, sweetie. Stop crying, alright?"
The girl sniffled, her tiny fingers rubbing at her damp eyes.
Jonathan lifted her chin delicately. "Listen to me, Tulip. You are my secret, my sweet and beautiful Tulip. And I would do anything to protect you and I mean anything."
His voice cracked, raw with something deeper than fear. "I swear, I'd rather die than let that bastard get his hands on you."
Tulip swallowed, her brows furrowing slightly.
Jonathan held her gaze, his own filled with something fragile, something desperate.
"You're the only thing that matters in my dark life. And I can't lose you. I won't lose you." He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "If those men find out about you… about your specialty… I don't know what they'll do...to me or to you.. I also don't want the world to change because of me or you and especially you. So please, Tulip. Just do what I say. For both our sakes. Please."
The little girl hesitated, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.
Then she nodded slowly.
"Okay… Uncle Jonny."
A tiny smile curled at her lips, hesitant but real.
Jonathan exhaled, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "That's my good girl. Now hang on...we'll get to Fairyland soon. I promise."
He turned back to the wheel, shifting the car into gear.
Then...a flicker of movement in the rearview mirror caused his stomach to drop.
Three black cars screeched around the corner, barreling straight toward them.
Jonathan cursed under his breath. "Oh no… Shit!"
His foot slammed down on the accelerator.
The car lurched forward, tires screaming against asphalt.
"Uncle Jonny! What's going on?!" Tulip cried, gripping her bear tighter.
Jonathan kept his eyes locked ahead. "Hold on tight, sweetie! This is gonna be a bumpy ride!"
He took a sharp turn, the Mercedes jerking as he barely missed clipping a street pole. The black cars followed, their engines roaring behind him.
One of them closed in.
Jonathan swerved again, darting down another road, but the pursuers were relentless.
Then...he saw it.
A T-junction.
Heavy traffic lined the main road ahead, cars speeding toward the intersection.
Jonathan's grip tightened.
No hesitation. No second thoughts.
He slammed the gas pedal down to the floor.
"Aaaa....Mommy!!" Tulip shrieked, clutching her bear in terror.
Jonathan's voice was sharp. "HANG ON, TULIP!!"
The Mercedes zoomed across the junction, just seconds before the oncoming traffic reached.
The pursuing vehicles screeched to a halt, forced to brake as the flow of cars blocked their path.
Jonathan didn't stop.
His breath came fast and shallow, adrenaline pounding through his veins.
A long silence hung between them before he finally spoke....his voice breathless.
"Tulip… are you okay?"
A tiny voice answered.
"Y-yes… I'm fine."
Jonathan exhaled, relief crashing through him.
"Good girl. We're safe now. Don't worry, Tulip. We'll get to Fairyland soon. I promise."
His grip tightened around the wheel.
A grim thought settled in his mind.
'How did they find me? Mr X must have placed a tracker on the car. I better find a place to dumb it and fast. And I know just where to go.'
Then he increased his acceleration and continued to speed into the night.