Kurtis Kowaleski was called Crusher for a reason. Even before he underwent the genetic therapy that gave him his abilities, he had built up a reputation in the world of underground fight clubs as a man who held nothing back, who didn't stop until his opponent was nothing but a bloody pulp on the floor. That reputation had led him to his employer, Mr. Kreiger. He was forever grateful to the man for pulling him out of poverty, and for putting him to work doing what he loved. He had sworn an oath of loyalty until death, so when the opportunity came up for him to become stronger, nearly invincible even, he accepted immediately. All to better serve the man who had saved his life.

He had not considered the side effects.

Everything was so strange when he first woke after the procedure, like he was seeing the world for the first time, but yet knew what everything he saw was. He found himself unable to express any complex thoughts, words turned to mush in his mouth and he resorted to grunts and moans, like a child. Over time, he had re-learned to speak, but his brain couldn't comprehend anything above a simple sentence. He bore no ill-will towards Mr. Kreiger. His mind had been compromised, yes, but his body had never been stronger. He became an exceptional asset to Vigilance, with a 100% mission completion rate, who reported only to Mr. Kreiger. He intended to continue that tonight.

Crusher had turned his attention away from the small woman who had tried to fight him, back towards the loud man who made his ears ring. Before he could move, he felt something wrap around him, and then suddenly he was falling. He thrashed about on the floor, finding himself suddenly cocooned in a spider's web of netting, the more he struggled, the tighter they seemed to get. He roared in anger and frustration, unable to free himself and finish his mission.

[i]'Let them go Kurtis'[/i] his master's voice said in his head [i]'Keep struggling until they leave, someone will be along to free you before the police arrive. Your mission was a success, you've broken him down. Reaper will recover yes, but he will remember this night. And in any case the two of you will meet again.... you won't have to hold back then'[/i]

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Reaper was nearly unconscious when Crusher had pulled off of him. He had felt himself being lifted, his body screaming out in pain.

[i]'If this is what death feels like, it's not as peaceful as advertised'[/i]

A voice spoke to him from far away, he couldn't understand. What felt like an eternity later, he felt the sensation of weightlessness, and became aware of hands on him. He was being lifted again. A voice swam about in his head, female. Not so much to him but about him.
"....an we take him?"
He struggled to breathe, to speak, finally he managed a barely audible gasp.

"Van. 1209. Key... pocket. 5....49 Church... Churchill Place"
His lungs seared and he passed out again.

The feeling of motion roused him. He sensed he was lying down, the pain had only intensified, everything ached, he needed to scream, shout, or curse, but he just couldn't. A face came into his limited field of view, familiar, like someone he had met in a dream. He blinked his one open eye, and he saw her staring down at him. He forced air inward and rasped out, trying to speak to her.

"Sarah... I'm sorry"

Darkness.

[b][u]3 DAYS LATER[/u][/b]

Gentle sunlight hit his eye. Slowly but surely, Reaper came to. He was lying in an unfamiliar bed, clean white sheets flowed around him. He surveyed the room. Very plain looking. A tv in the corner on a dresser. A nightstand on his left, a metal tray with medical tools on it. An unremarkable chair by the door, and an I.V. rack standing next to the bed, a line of tubing coming from its bag to his arm. He felt pain, but significantly less than it had been before. He tried to speak, but his mouth was so dry that he erupted into a coughing fit, punctuated by deep dry heaves. After a moment, the door burst open and a man walked in with a glass of water. He set it down on the nightstand.

"Good morning Captain, glad to see you're still with us"

He helped Reaper into a sitting position and handed him the water. He found his voice and looked at his savior, one eye still stubbornly refusing to open.

"Leo"

Leo Ramirez was a former medic in the military, honorably discharged. When Castle knew him, he was a Corporal, these days he went by 'doctor'
"Don't try to get up Logan, your body took quite a beating, it's gonna be a few more days before you're even able to stand"
"How long have I been out?" he asked in response
"You've been in and out of consciousness since you showed up, but it's been three days since your friends brought you"
"Not friends exactly... more like kids tryin to get themselves killed"
"Isn't that your specialty?" Leo fired back accusingly "Last I heard truck's aren't criminals, so quit playin in the streets"
"Heh" Castle grimaced "Still funny. Wasn't a truck I'm sure you know, but it goddamn felt like one... Can I at least go home? I'm sure Heather's upset about all this"
"Absolutely not. In a couple days, yes, but not yet. And even then, you gotta stay off your feet for another three weeks, two at the very least. One of your fr... those kids left a number. She's gonna come by to help move you home once you've healed enough. So rest up for now. You might be able to hold down solid food by now, I'll check in with ya in an hour" He turned to leave.

"Wait just a second. What happened to that guy, the one who did this?"
Leo smiled "I knew you'd ask. Recorded the news the other night, figured you'd wanna see, got it all cued up to the right spot and everything"
He tuned the DVR to the news recording and hit play.

"... received a viewer video this morning depicting events at the scene shortly after the costumed individuals escaped with the vigilante known as Reaper. As you'll see here, the giant, still unidentified, man comes out of this unmarked warehouse escorted by a hooded man. The pair stepped inside a black SUV bearing no discernible plates and sped off into the night. Police arrived at the scene approximately sixty seconds later. If anyone has any information that may lead to the arrest of this man, you are pleased asked to call Treaft PD's anonymous tipline at the number currently displayed on screen. For Channel 5, I'm June Weatherly"