He woke up groggily; glasses askew, clothes ruffled, bottle in hand, with the most raging headache he had ever gotten. Sunlight shone straight into his apartment building, causing the man to squint and shuffle into the kitchen, downing a tonic water to help ease the hangover. He wracked his brain, trying to remember anything, anything at all from the previous night. He couldn't.
Barnaby Brooks Jr. had never gotten so drunk in his life.
A hand came up to rub a tired face; wondering exactly what had gotten him to the point where he'd get this inebriated. What had he been thinking about, what had he been doing? He couldn't really remember; his head hurt too much. So he sat down in the lone chair in the room and turned on the TV.
Oh.
The news report was covering what had happened recently; and it flooded back. Everything flooded back with enough force to bring tears to his eyes, tears he tried so hard to restrain. The Heroes…Maverick ended up beating them, that bastard. And he had filmed it, and made it out to be the Heroes had somehow become corrupt and assaulted him. He was off the hook, the Heroes were disbanded, and Kotetsu-
Barnaby made a strangled sound in his throat as that memory came back; and the brunt force of it was enough to make him go out drinking.

He sat alone at the bar, not knowing what was going on around him, or what his drink was, or who was around. He had just asked for whatever was strongest and tried to ignore the scathing glares he got from people, or the looks of disappointment. Maybe that man had been right. Revealing your face isn't something Heroes do.
…He had been right about a lot of things.
"Mind if I sit here?"
Barnaby didn't even look up from his drink as the voice assailed his eardrums; loud enough that it was heard, but not exactly obnoxious. It was a man's voice, a bit gruff, deeper than his own but not exactly deep, and he didn't know who it belonged to. He didn't look. He didn't care.
"…Go ahead."
He heard the creak of the stool as the person, whoever it was, sat down with a sigh.
"Ah my legs're killin me! What'd you get?"
"…Not sure."
"Well…waitress~! Can I have whatever he's got? I got the tab!"
Barnaby blinked in surprise, and took another sip, but he said nothing. He wasn't in the mood for talking, really.
"What're you doin here on a night like this? Don't you have friends to hang with, women to dance with? You're a Hero, aren't you?"
Was this man that behind the times? All Barnaby could muster was a sigh and a hand to his forehead as he closed his eyes. Great.
"Didn't you hear? The Heroes were disbanded."
"…Oh yeah."
Dissapointment. Anger. Sorrow. There were so many emotions boiling in that one, short sentence that it almost made Barnaby look over at his companion. Almost. But he didn't; because he knew if he looked, he'd never get away. These bar types were all the same.

There was a silence for a while, as the two men drank, before his "companion" spoke again.
"So why ARE you here?"
Barnaby blinked, and looked straight ahead; never make eye contact, don't look at him. Hopefully he'll leave.
"To forget…my parents died around this time, and…the only person I've considered a friend- "
He stopped there, with slightly wide eyes. He had told the public about his parents, but…why did he say that second part? These drinks were getting to him, he betted. It was hard enough to see straight, and the man's voice was pleasant. Familiar, to a degree; but from what? …From where?
"Eh?...What was he like, your friend?"
Barnaby looked at his drink; hiding his face as tears began to well, unbidden, to the corners of his eyes, remembering, cherishing.
"He was…kind…though he wasn't too quick on the uptake, he was a goofball, he was so closed off about himself…but I trusted him. He was respectable, and had such idealistic morals. He always put others before himself, and would stop at nothing to save someone, especially if he cared about them…and…he was my partner…the best partner in the world…"
Here he could go no further. Sobs wracked his body silently as he gave way to the sorrow over the death of that man, that man who was so important to him, so precious; his precious partner, his precious friend.
"Kotetsu…"
"Yeah, Bunny?"
The voice stopped him in his shock; his crying ceasing as his eyes went wide, tears still streaming down. And it was then, that voice that was next to him was associated with a face; it was then that he turned, with a racing heart and wide eyes, to see the man he had been talking to.

And there he was; his dark hair messy as usual, hat somewhat askew on his head, his vest and shirt wrinkled, tie loosened slightly in his usual familiar appearance; peering over curiously and somewhat confused, as though he couldn't fathom exactly what was happening.
"K-Kotetsu…?"
"Yeah, Bunny?"
"Kotetsu."
"Yeah…Bunny, it's me."
"…Kotetsu…you…"
"What, Bunny? Do you just like sayin my name? I mean, great n' all but—"
He never got to finish his sentence as the younger nearly tackled him, hugging tight and once more crying, now into his chest. He couldn't believe it. He had seen him die! He had died in his arms! How was this man here, sitting next to him now, looking so utterly confused?
"A-a-aah owowowow Bunny loosen up a bit there, geez, ah…yeah, I'm here? What's all the fuss?"
"You had me worried to death, Old man! Why did you close your eyes? I thought you died!"
"Eeeh? You thought I died!"
It was said so incredulously that Barnaby couldn't help but stare.
"Yes, I thought you died…so did the others…"
"E-ehe…well…I'm here now?"
It was said with a sheepish look, a scratch of the head and a smile; a picture perfect Kotetsu look, as he looked a bit to the side. The sight of it made Barnaby smile as he wiped away tears and put his glasses back on.
He didn't know what the future would bring; the Heroes were enemies now, Maverick had control, and there wasn't many places safe. But—
"Yes. You're here now."