Killing's an art. And that makes me Picasso.

Bullseye blinked. "Jeeze, that's a lot of feeling' for a walkin' corpse. Ya know, seems like ya need a diversion -- but if yer insisting, check the local hospitals, that kinda shit."

"I'll pop by. Ya need anything -- other than yer waste of space twin?" He stopped a beat. "Never saw the point of him or why you care."

Aaron paused, once again reminding himself that blowing up at people hadn't helped him in the past and it probably wouldn't help now. Like Bullseye didn't know what obsession was like. But hey, Aaron liked having his limbs attached, so he wasn't about to say that out loud.

"Already did," he muttered. First places he'd checked, considering Ace probably desperately needed a doctor. But no, nothing.

"I don't expect you to get it." Lie. "Just— Whatever. I could use a distraction." Sitting around in his kitchen glaring at his phone wasn't going to make the PIs work faster.

Had Aaron referred to obsession, Bullseye still wouldn't have seen how that could possibly apply to Ace. To him, his obsessions were on people who mattered, bad ass motherfuckers and fuckers who somehow evaded him. Ace... Ace was a crippled pet.

"A'it, I'll be there." He paused a beat, a part of him - Lester - realizing that some social graces were needed. "It'll work out, Cowboy. One way or another. Worst case, I'll get ya a new ID. Like WitSec but no marshal all up your ass."

It had been a contingency that he'd planned for in case Ace or David decided to seek vengeance. he still found that unlikely, despite the good grounds Ace had for it. Bunny was scared shitless and wouldn't tell his boy jack shit.

"I'll bring food."

"Good riddance, ay?" he responded cheerily. It seemed that something had worked at least. Guess Aaron needed to adjust for a bit.

"If ya want company I'm free for now." Cowboy just needed something else to focus on. Colombia had been fun, very much without Ace.

This time, an actual growl left Aaron's throat and he had to set his phone down for a couple of seconds before he threw it at the nearest wall.

"No," he hissed as he picked up the phone again, thoughts spiraling and darkening. "He doesn't get to do this. I didn't fucking let him."

"Unless you can help me find him—" A deep breath. "Fine. If you want."

Bullseye blinked. "Jeeze, that's a lot of feeling' for a walkin' corpse. Ya know, seems like ya need a diversion -- but if yer insisting, check the local hospitals, that kinda shit."

"I'll pop by. Ya need anything -- other than yer waste of space twin?" He stopped a beat. "Never saw the point of him or why you care."

"Good riddance, ay?" he responded cheerily. It seemed that something had worked at least. Guess Aaron needed to adjust for a bit.

"If ya want company I'm free for now." Cowboy just needed something else to focus on. Colombia had been fun, very much without Ace.

"Howdy Cowboy," Bullseye greeted him. "Up for more fun?"

There was a pause, some time for Aaron to try and clear his head after he recognized the voice. And then a little more time to decide if he was willing to tell Lester what was the problem or not.

"No," he replied flatly. "I'm not in the mood for fun. Wanna guess what fucking happened?"

Bullseye frowned. He hadn't expected that. Oh, well, might as well guess then. There was something that could have happened--

"Ace finally off himself? Or did he just die of organ failure?"

"Howdy Cowboy," Bullseye greeted him. "Up for more fun?"

"This is you getting out, Mr. Graves, and I'm no friend of your brother's, but ignorance does have its benefits. At least in a court of law." She felt a pang of dark amusement, many of her clients would have been better off knowing less.

"But since you've declined, I'll simply offer some advice. Get out of the country as soon as you can and don't make any waves. Get a knew name. Get a new face if you can. Don't call, don't write. Let the world forget you, Mr. Graves, and you might have a chance to live a bit longer." She could smell the stink of a man hunted just as she could his fear. "Don't come looking for anything."

She grabbed a bag from the front seat and threw it to him. "That's your exit ticket. Use it once and then get rid of it." Inside there was a faked ID, passport and medical papers from the VA regarding his disability to get him through any checks.

Ace stared intently at the outside, as he listened to her... advice. He was going wherever David was. It didn't matter to him where that ended up being, but he couldn't just leave the country and leave his love behind all over again.

"Do you think I have any attachments to this place? To these people?" He murmured quietly, more because he couldn't stop himself rather than wanting an answer. Aaron's house a place of nightmares, and his family had made it clear enough that they didn't care about him. "I've never wanted to make waves, ma'am, never wanted to do any of this."

His biggest crime had been existing.

The bag hit his chest and he couldn't help but to cough a little. He took a look inside and closed back up. Not sure how to thank someone for something he didn't ask for.

All that mattered was that he had someone waiting for him.

"Attachment isn't necessary for inaction, I've seen that enough times, Mr. Graves," Maki remarked dryly. "Our intentions mean very little in the big scope of things. My parents never intended to sell me into slavery, but it still happened. Things fall out as they do, Mr. Graves. Sometimes the tidal wave comes and devastation is all that is left behind." Her speech was unexpected to her as well, making her quirk a little frown. She was... concerned. Even in the rigor of her professionalism, she felt worry for her mentor and idol. Her thoughts snapping to him.

"I apologize, Mr. Graves. I find myself distracted, which is unalike me. So, I must ask you another question: did he lose someone again? A lover, an enemy or just someone he fixated on?" That was the usual trigger when it came to the fractures that weren't external. Losing people was hard on Lester, as much as he denied it, he wanted his world to be fixed as much as he was an agent of chaos. The external fractures were born out of the opposite, a desire to own, be, understand, and were obsessive, needy, idolizing and hateful all at once and borderline erotic.

She'd repay him nonetheless, a small mercy she'd grant unasked as she dropped him off.

She listened to his imprecise answer and took it to mean that at the very lest Bullseye wasn't in a psychotic break even if he'd dissociated himself into fractured personalities. "That's less bad than it could have been then," she remarked, letting go of a slight tension. She would not have to have him committed.

Maki stared at the road, quiet for a while and considered her options. It wasn't long to the rendezvous point, and there was much to consider. She eyed her target.

"Do you have any questions Mr. Graves? We'll soon be where we need to be."

After the years with his twin, Ace distrusted anything kind or merciful being done to him. Usually, it would only lead to even worse things.

What the woman said, about it not being worse, didn't elicit much of a reaction from him. He didn't have a vested interest in Bullseye's well-being.

The silence dragged, but he wasn't bothered by it. His thoughts were slowly but surely turning to the fact that he was out. Out. And possibly reunited with—

"Questions?" Rare enough that his mouth moved before his thoughts. He quieted down and thought about what answer to give her. "The more I get involved with my brother's friends, ma'am," he starts carefully, "the worse things seem to go for me. I'm not sure I want any answers at all."

"This is you getting out, Mr. Graves, and I'm no friend of your brother's, but ignorance does have its benefits. At least in a court of law." She felt a pang of dark amusement, many of her clients would have been better off knowing less.

"But since you've declined, I'll simply offer some advice. Get out of the country as soon as you can and don't make any waves. Get a knew name. Get a new face if you can. Don't call, don't write. Let the world forget you, Mr. Graves, and you might have a chance to live a bit longer." She could smell the stink of a man hunted just as she could his fear. "Don't come looking for anything."

She grabbed a bag from the front seat and threw it to him. "That's your exit ticket. Use it once and then get rid of it." Inside there was a faked ID, passport and medical papers from the VA regarding his disability to get him through any checks.

Maki was half a heart to run up a litany of curses, but that was a waste of breath. Her heart didn't skip a beat and she simply let out a slight scoff. "What trouble has he gotten himself into this time--? The question is rhetorical, Mr. Graves," she added for his benefit, recognizing a man with few social graces and cues.

"Well, then. It seem like this has been very fruitful for me. Once I'm done with you, I think it's time for me to take matters into my own hands." She paused and found his gaze in the mirror. "I am grateful and I do honor my debts, Mr. Graves. But I have a final question--"

"The third, is it someone external or does it seem to still be a... version of him?"

It was worse when Bullseye assumed some one else's persona.

Ace was already ready to answer her question, but was soothed by the explanation that it was a rhetorical question. That was nice.

Someone telling him they were grateful for anything he did was a novelty, and Ace looked away in discomfort. "No debt." He didn't want to get entangled further with their crowd.

At her final question, he tilted his head to the side and blinked, slowly processing and trying to decipher her wording. And then he and to think about the answer.

He was tired.

"I'm not sure. I don't think so. Not someone else." Ace tried to answer as best as he could, still trying to be helpful depsite everything.

She'd repay him nonetheless, a small mercy she'd grant unasked as she dropped him off.

She listened to his imprecise answer and took it to mean that at the very lest Bullseye wasn't in a psychotic break even if he'd dissociated himself into fractured personalities. "That's less bad than it could have been then," she remarked, letting go of a slight tension. She would not have to have him committed.

Maki stared at the road, quiet for a while and considered her options. It wasn't long to the rendezvous point, and there was much to consider. She eyed her target.

"Do you have any questions Mr. Graves? We'll soon be where we need to be."

"Then here's to hoping that you do," she remarked flatly, she was extraditing him after all. But fate had a way of getting in the way. And something about this man screamed that there was no getting away for him. But he was also right, she didn't sympathize.

"Chikushô," Maki cursed. Bullseye was down that hole again. "That's a... complication. It doesn't end well when he goes down that path," she was thinking aloud, somehow knowing that it really didn't matter what the Mr Graves heard. She considered the options , realizing that she needed more data. If it was just the one usual---

"Is it only the Bullseye split?"

That was manageable. If he had compartmentalized the assassin side from his civilian persona, that usually mended on its own given less need to separate. She herself did a lot of work keeping Lady Bullseye and Maki Matsumoto compartmentalized - from body language and tonality to reaction patterns and mindsets - but she didn't have his fragile psyche.

Ace wasn't able to tell if she was being genuine or if she was just being polite. Either way, he didn't really care. He was about to be reunited with his fiancé and that was more important than any other bullshit that comes up.

He had to focus on that. Couldn't get lost in panic.

"Does anything ever end well when he's involved?" He muttered bitterly, uncaring if she heard or not. He'd made his opinion of the man known already.

The fact that she knew exactly what he was talking about when he mentioned how fractured the assassin was, was extremely interesting. Not interesting enough for him to want to get involved, though. Still, he was polite, and she had asked him a question.

"No," he murmured, shaking his head. "There's, ah, three?" He let some uncertainty show, because he wasn't completely sure. "At least three." More correct.

Maki was half a heart to run up a litany of curses, but that was a waste of breath. Her heart didn't skip a beat and she simply let out a slight scoff. "What trouble has he gotten himself into this time--? The question is rhetorical, Mr. Graves," she added for his benefit, recognizing a man with few social graces and cues.

"Well, then. It seem like this has been very fruitful for me. Once I'm done with you, I think it's time for me to take matters into my own hands." She paused and found his gaze in the mirror. "I am grateful and I do honor my debts, Mr. Graves. But I have a final question--"

"The third, is it someone external or does it seem to still be a... version of him?"

It was worse when Bullseye assumed some one else's persona.

Maki placidly accepted his statement as she understood how people would. To her, he was a force of nature. His destruction and carnage caused awe in her.

She caught the grimace at the moniker and the glance away. For clarity, she decided to be frank: "You stink of prey, Mr. Graves, and small game at that. A predator like him - like us - know that instinctively. Fear has a taste and scent; it lingers on you like perfume." Her voice was matter-of-fact and lacking any overt malice despite her words. "I'd advise you to do something about that." Her final warning came slightly in her lawyer tone.

"There's not anything you can say about him that I haven't heard before, and while this is a job I hardly call him my employer, Mr. Graves. Our relationship is of a different nature. You could say I have a protective role." It wasn't untrue. Her function had, for years now, to come to Lester's rescue when no one else did and his own strength faltered.

"The productivity of this conversation lies in furthering my knowledge of his current state."

Ace wasn't surprised, really. Aaron and Bullseye associated with the same type of people, even if this woman was miles better than any of his brother's other 'friends'. Between Rumlow and Kimiko, Ace wasn't completely sure how he was actually still alive.

"I'll stop being afraid once I'm no longer surrounded by assassins and sociopaths," he murmurs, not so much upset at her words as defeated. "I don't expect you to sympathize." Not 'care', because like Bullseye she would never. Not 'understand', because he thought she could logically understand the fear of being in danger. And this didn't upset him, really, because he was used to it by now.

He glanced in the mirror when she explained what type of relationship she had with Bullseye, trying to understand. She... cared for him? Ace was not really able to tell. Tone of voice and body language were mostly lost on him nowadays, and this woman barely used either anyways.

Maybe it was the deep-rooted instinct to please others that made him actually reply in a semi-helpful manner, no hostility or bitterness in his own voice. "Fractured. More than usual, anyways."

"Then here's to hoping that you do," she remarked flatly, she was extraditing him after all. But fate had a way of getting in the way. And something about this man screamed that there was no getting away for him. But he was also right, she didn't sympathize.

"Chikushô," Maki cursed. Bullseye was down that hole again. "That's a... complication. It doesn't end well when he goes down that path," she was thinking aloud, somehow knowing that it really didn't matter what the Mr Graves heard. She considered the options , realizing that she needed more data. If it was just the one usual---

"Is it only the Bullseye split?"

That was manageable. If he had compartmentalized the assassin side from his civilian persona, that usually mended on its own given less need to separate. She herself did a lot of work keeping Lady Bullseye and Maki Matsumoto compartmentalized - from body language and tonality to reaction patterns and mindsets - but she didn't have his fragile psyche.

She closed the door behind him and settled back in the drivers seat, wasting no time in leaving as his slow amble had already eaten some of their time to hit the rendezvous point. Her dark eyes watched him through the mirror, taking in his weak state and crippled body.

Why was Bullseye so keen on transporting this man? He didn't seem to fit any of her notions of Bullseye's plans or notions; even if the latter could be hair-brained. Oh, she knew that he was the brother of a man that had become an associate of Lester's, but it still didn't make sense. The man in the back seat was someone that Lester would struggle not to kill.

She waited a while, but she needed to know. Just like she needed to know everything about Bullseye.

"Why you?" she asked, her piercing eyes catching his.

Maki didn't actually care about her mission's feelings, and his thoughts were only relevant in as so much as they illuminated her mentor's state of mind and machinations. But she could taste the stink of fear and misery off him and the suffering, a bone deep one that she seldom met in her clients or targets, but one she knew intimately. It was nostalgic. Maybe Bullseye had finally embraced some of her particularities. But this target wasn't going to die by her hand, unless he lapsed into cardiac arrest.

He let out a soft breath, the closest she got to laughing on the job.

"He called you Bunny. I can see why with your rabbit heart. You are allowed to hate him," she noted. "I see that this is no favor of his. But I hold no grudge toward you, Mr. Graves. I have a job to do. You may speak plainly if you wish."

She felt more sated in her curiosity now, even if the grande plan of whatever Bullseye was doing was still obscured. A rabbit-hearted creature could tempt many a predator into play.

"I don't need permission to hate him," he noted right back. "He makes it very easy to hate him." All of them did. Even Dex, Ace's favorite as it stood, was still beneath what most would consider decent.

The mention of rabbits once more had Ace grimacing briefly and looking down at his hand. He didn't understand why Bullseye kept calling him that. He didn't see the resemblance, although he was self-aware enough to know that he couldn't see himself the same way others saw him.

Mr. Graves. Now there was something he hadn't heard in years. It was bittersweet.

"I don't want to badmouth your employer, ma'am," he ended up muttering, politeness with strangers a habit he couldn't ditch. "I don't think it'd be productive."

Maki placidly accepted his statement as she understood how people would. To her, he was a force of nature. His destruction and carnage caused awe in her.

She caught the grimace at the moniker and the glance away. For clarity, she decided to be frank: "You stink of prey, Mr. Graves, and small game at that. A predator like him - like us - know that instinctively. Fear has a taste and scent; it lingers on you like perfume." Her voice was matter-of-fact and lacking any overt malice despite her words. "I'd advise you to do something about that." Her final warning came slightly in her lawyer tone.

"There's not anything you can say about him that I haven't heard before, and while this is a job I hardly call him my employer, Mr. Graves. Our relationship is of a different nature. You could say I have a protective role." It wasn't untrue. Her function had, for years now, to come to Lester's rescue when no one else did and his own strength faltered.

"The productivity of this conversation lies in furthering my knowledge of his current state."

She closed the door behind him and settled back in the drivers seat, wasting no time in leaving as his slow amble had already eaten some of their time to hit the rendezvous point. Her dark eyes watched him through the mirror, taking in his weak state and crippled body.

Why was Bullseye so keen on transporting this man? He didn't seem to fit any of her notions of Bullseye's plans or notions; even if the latter could be hair-brained. Oh, she knew that he was the brother of a man that had become an associate of Lester's, but it still didn't make sense. The man in the back seat was someone that Lester would struggle not to kill.

She waited a while, but she needed to know. Just like she needed to know everything about Bullseye.

"Why you?" she asked, her piercing eyes catching his.

Maki didn't actually care about her mission's feelings, and his thoughts were only relevant in as so much as they illuminated her mentor's state of mind and machinations. But she could taste the stink of fear and misery off him and the suffering, a bone deep one that she seldom met in her clients or targets, but one she knew intimately. It was nostalgic. Maybe Bullseye had finally embraced some of her particularities. But this target wasn't going to die by her hand, unless he lapsed into cardiac arrest.

He let out a soft breath, the closest she got to laughing on the job.

"He called you Bunny. I can see why with your rabbit heart. You are allowed to hate him," she noted. "I see that this is no favor of his. But I hold no grudge toward you, Mr. Graves. I have a job to do. You may speak plainly if you wish."

She felt more sated in her curiosity now, even if the grande plan of whatever Bullseye was doing was still obscured. A rabbit-hearted creature could tempt many a predator into play.

She closed the door behind him and settled back in the drivers seat, wasting no time in leaving as his slow amble had already eaten some of their time to hit the rendezvous point. Her dark eyes watched him through the mirror, taking in his weak state and crippled body.

Why was Bullseye so keen on transporting this man? He didn't seem to fit any of her notions of Bullseye's plans or notions; even if the latter could be hair-brained. Oh, she knew that he was the brother of a man that had become an associate of Lester's, but it still didn't make sense. The man in the back seat was someone that Lester would struggle not to kill.

She waited a while, but she needed to know. Just like she needed to know everything about Bullseye.

"Why you?" she asked, her piercing eyes catching his.

Being in a car for the past few years never heralded anything good. Ace tried not to look out the window, focused on his hand in his lap. Anxiety ate at him, but he held it together. Somehow.

When the woman spoke, he wasn't even sure she was talking to him at first. After all, this was clearly a professional, and he was merely a job to her. But he looked up, glanced at the mirror, then looked away.

"You're asking me what your employer thinks?" He murmured, a little half-shrug moving his shoulders. "You should know that's not easy for anyone to understand." After all, if she was asking, it was because she was more than just a mere hired grunt.

After a beat of silence, he hugged himself as best as he could. "Killing me would have been too easy for him."

There was the other thing. Aaron. But Ace wasn't sure how... all of that worked out in Bullseye's fucked up brain.

Maki stared blankly at her mission, waiting him out as he spoke. No hurry or irritation in her mannerism. His answer was insufficient, but it wasn't unexpected.

"Killing his like breathing for him," she stated after a while of silence, "not killing you is him holding his breath." The second half of her statement was where she had her point of detached curiosity. Bullseye didn't see pleasure in the little ripples of pain and suffering that he spread; he needed instant gratification or something so tantalizing that it was worth waiting for.

"Easy bores him, but it doesn't stop him." Her statements held the conviction of her knowledge and devotion of her wayward mentor.

Her silence invited the man to try to answer again.

Ace blinked and shifted in his seat, trying to parse her questions in his mind, trying to find a satisfying answer. He genuinely had trouble understanding other people and Bullseye wasn't a normal man. He was confusing, and fractured, and insane.

At least with this woman he didn't feel the need to emote properly. It was easy and natural to remain as blank as she was.

"I don't think you'll find any answer I give you enough," he told her bluntly, but not rudely. "You're asking me to make sense of a man I don't know that well, and who we both know is unstable."

There was a very small part of him that was curious about her, but he didn't have enough energy to care. Anyone even tangentially associated with Aaron would only cause him more problems.

"Then you're not the answer," Maki surmised equally unemotional. The brother must be it or whatever endgame Bullseye was playing for.

She felt an urge to defend that slipped past her defenses. "He's unstable, but not beyond reason. I know him well." There was a fondness there that slipped into her voice, a softer tone in her last statement, even as her eyes were once more set forward on the road.

She knew Lester's insanity well, but also how his drive and grit took him past it and into something more. The latest lapses in personality weren't the first she'd noted, but it usually stabilized after a while.

She closed the door behind him and settled back in the drivers seat, wasting no time in leaving as his slow amble had already eaten some of their time to hit the rendezvous point. Her dark eyes watched him through the mirror, taking in his weak state and crippled body.

Why was Bullseye so keen on transporting this man? He didn't seem to fit any of her notions of Bullseye's plans or notions; even if the latter could be hair-brained. Oh, she knew that he was the brother of a man that had become an associate of Lester's, but it still didn't make sense. The man in the back seat was someone that Lester would struggle not to kill.

She waited a while, but she needed to know. Just like she needed to know everything about Bullseye.

"Why you?" she asked, her piercing eyes catching his.

Being in a car for the past few years never heralded anything good. Ace tried not to look out the window, focused on his hand in his lap. Anxiety ate at him, but he held it together. Somehow.

When the woman spoke, he wasn't even sure she was talking to him at first. After all, this was clearly a professional, and he was merely a job to her. But he looked up, glanced at the mirror, then looked away.

"You're asking me what your employer thinks?" He murmured, a little half-shrug moving his shoulders. "You should know that's not easy for anyone to understand." After all, if she was asking, it was because she was more than just a mere hired grunt.

After a beat of silence, he hugged himself as best as he could. "Killing me would have been too easy for him."

There was the other thing. Aaron. But Ace wasn't sure how... all of that worked out in Bullseye's fucked up brain.

Maki stared blankly at her mission, waiting him out as he spoke. No hurry or irritation in her mannerism. His answer was insufficient, but it wasn't unexpected.

"Killing his like breathing for him," she stated after a while of silence, "not killing you is him holding his breath." The second half of her statement was where she had her point of detached curiosity. Bullseye didn't see pleasure in the little ripples of pain and suffering that he spread; he needed instant gratification or something so tantalizing that it was worth waiting for.

"Easy bores him, but it doesn't stop him." Her statements held the conviction of her knowledge and devotion of her wayward mentor.

Her silence invited the man to try to answer again.