Healing Aura Overkill
Red Cross tended to his roses. He liked his roses, he liked touching them, feeling the soft petals, smelling them, tending to them. He liked the red ones best, though he had a few varieties here and there. He even liked the thorns. Beauty with a pointy edge, that's what he liked to call them.
Like all the women in his life.
He found a dead rose. He cut it with his gardening shears, held it in his hand.
His back garden was his sacred space. It was where he went to collect his thoughts, to forget all about supervillains and mind control and machines from other dimensions.
This place was serene.
And then the doorbell rang.
"Who the f**k is it now?" he groaned, his tranquillity ruined.
Chaz.
Of course it was Chaz.
Chaz pushed through, carrying Rosa in his arms.
