If Claude thought he hadn't been expecting the last punch, he definitely hadn't been expecting this one. The ringing his ears as his head ricocheted off the brick wall behind him was nothing compared to the rush of pain that shot up his face as he felt something crack. Ugh. His nose. Again! How many times was that now? God, he didn't even know. His hand shot up to try and stem the flow of blood, gritting his teeth as he stared at Peter.
What the hell was he on about?
"No, you didn't," Claude insisted, gritting his teeth. "I'm sure someone would have noticed if a young adult had leveled New York City. That is the sort of thing that makes international headlines, you know."
Even England wasn't that oblivious.
"And I'm not going to deny that I ran. It's what I do. Disappear. I could have stuck around, gotten myself killed, and screwed us both. But what good would that have done anyone?"