It took only about ten minutes for Aron to decide what to do. He stood up off of his bed and dug in the closet for a moment before emerging with a worn backpack. "Here, take this," he told JR, holding it out to him even as he still stared into his closet. His thick brows were drawn down in thought, and so JR took the bag without word and looked at it.

It was likely a remnant from Aron's school days, a plain black backpack that had been drawn on with silver pen. Not only were there band signs from whatever music Aron had appreciate then, but there were also comic hero symbols drawn on it. A silver Superman S stood out on the top flap, making JR's lips twitch with a smile. Of course Aron would have made that one most prominent.

"What are we doing?" he asked, watching as Aron finally pulled out a second backpack, this one much newer looking, to set it on his bed. 

"Go to your room and pack just bare essentials. Only fill the bag halfway, you'll need room for food stuffs if we have to run. I'm going to do the same." And he shooed JR out of his room and toward his own.

Standing in front of his bed, JR wasn't sure what really to do. Was it honestly likely that the authorities would come after him? He didn't think anyone had seen his face... And yet, the hospital had his information and his miraculous healing might be enough to pull them to him. Maybe? Those questions aside, though, he did as Aron said, packing a pair of jeans and a couple of shirts, socks, and underwear. He paused by the bathroom door and thought of the toiletries they would need, but before he could go to gather them up, Aron was exiting his room.

He saw where JR was standing and shook his head. "No, I'll buy some small stuff to put into our packs tomorrow when I'm at work. As well as food to put in."

"You're going to work? But..." JR let his words trail off. He had thought that they were packing to leave!

Aron paused as he was passing, then motioned for JR to come to the living room with him. As they settled at the table, JR saw that Aron had his laptop with him, which he opened and began to type on. "See..." he began, his words slow as his attention was divided between whatever he was doing on the computer and what he was trying to say, "I don't think that the hospital can release your medical records. You weren't involved in the actual robbery and as such, even a warrant shouldn't be able to...." he trailed off as he found whatever he had been looking for.

"What?" JR asked, and when Aron didn't answer immediately, he came around the side of the table to peer over his cousin's shoulder. There was a news account online already, and there was a mention of second man who had tried to stop the robber. It had a pretty good description of JR physically, but he felt a sense of relief as he realized that they weren't going to try to pin the crime on him. 

He went back to his seat and sagged into it in relief, barely paying attention as Aron clicked through articles. JR's thoughts were on the robber, surely another victim of the meteors, and had the sudden thought that they could ask Dr. Price about him. But then he realized how stupid that would be, because obviously the old doctor had recognized the robber and knew of JR's miraculous healing: he would put two and two together. So no, no doctors.

Now if only they would overlook him.

For five days he lived on edge, not going on his usual runs and not even leaving the apartment much, all thoughts of finding a job having gone out the window with this. The bank robber didn't strike again, but he had been caught on camera as he leapt his way across the St Louis skyline, and it was all anyone could talk about. It made national news and everyone was in awe, everyone except for JR and Aron. They were on pins and needles, though Aron continued to go to work as if nothing had happened.

Late in the morning on Monday, Aron having left for work after a weekend of stressing, a loud knock came on the door of the apartment. JR's heart leapt into his throat and he sat frozen on the couch, the book he'd been reading forgotten in his hands. It ws his favorite, one of the volumes of One Piece that he had practically lived in while he was sick, and when the second knock came, he reverently set it aside and stood up. "Coming!"

He crossed to the door, trying to remind himself that he hadn't done anything wrong, but when he looked out the peephole a