“Hey, Patrol girl with a name I can’t remember,” Fume Hood said.

“Victoria,” Tempera volunteered.

“Victoria. Right. Thank you for helping to hold my blood in,” Fume Hood said.

“You’re very welcome,” I said. I noted the flowers and cards sitting beneath the window. “Sorry I didn’t bring anything. This is my awkward ‘I was in the neighborhood’ visit. I saw the hospital name and remembered you were brought out this way.”

“I’ve got too much as it is. Turns out that the key to popularity and acceptance is to get yourself shot.”

Her tone was light, almost amused. Tempera had said Fume Hood was hurt on an emotional level, but I didn’t see a sign of it. I could remember how Tempera had acted on my first meeting with her, how in tune with her team she had been. I was willing to put a lot of stock in her take on things.

“Victoria, what I was going to say, before deciding I’d rather say it here, was that we’re going our separate ways, yes—”

“Longscratch is already gone,” Crystalclear said. “But I don’t think he was ever going to stick around on a permanent basis.”

“Yes,” Tempera said. “Which is a shame. I do hope he finds what he’s looking for. My point is, I don’t want to lose touch. It’s helpful and nice that Crystalclear happened to be here to help illustrate that maintenance of contact.”

“Happy to take credit,” Crystalclear said.

“Victoria said—if you don’t mind me repeating?”

“No.”

“She said that it’s important to reach out, if I’m recalling that right. I’d like to stay friends with you,” Tempera said. “Crystalclear, Fume Hood. Victoria, you too.”

“Why?” Fume Hood asked.

“What do you mean?” Tempera asked.

“We’re very different people,” Fume Hood said. “I don’t get how that works. How do you stay in touch with people you have very little in common with?”

“Easy. Grab a bite sometime,” I said. “Sandwich, beer or soda, share stories, get different perspectives. I wouldn’t mind.”

“That’d be nice,” Crystalclear said.

“But—” Fume Hood started. She frowned. “Okay, whatever.”

“You should find the words for what you’re trying to say,” I said. “In case it festers or gets in the way.”

“I dunno. I don’t get why you’re here. I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong. You put pressure on my wound, Tempera gave me first aid and used her paint to keep me from dying. I probably owe you my lives. But that whole fiasco was my fault.”

“I blame the attacking villains, not you,” Tempera said.

“Yep,” Crystalclear said.

“Are you trying to be clever and get me to keep being a hero, then?” Fume Hood asked.