He decided to just get it over with. With shocking ease, he got Villain in a bridal carry. He actually overshot the amount of force he needed, and almost lost his balance.

A grown man shouldn’t weigh this little. It felt closer to the weight of a kid. Vigilante blinked some teariness away. He had no right to be sad about this, and now was not the time anyway.

He could feel Villain’s one free hand, that wasn't still clutching the piece of fabric he had in the cell, gripping his shirt. He wasn’t making eye contact, staring straight ahead and whispering something barely audible.

“Please, don’t drop me..”

Vigilante felt sick. He had to bite his lip to deal with it. Villain was the smarmiest asshole he knew, and to see him reduced to this... This never should have happened. With some effort, he managed to swallow past the lump in his throat.

“Of course I won’t drop you. You’re safe now, Villain.”

There was no response from him as they moved up the stairs, and through the living room. They didn’t see Sidekick again, who must have gone to his room. Vigilante had the urge to call up to him, to remind him of his offer. But that would only make him dig his heels in. He had his number, if he wanted to leave, he could. Vigilante could only hope he’d see the light soon.

Vigilante opened the door, and Villain took a deep breath. When was the last time he’d been outside? It might have been during his arrest.

They really should get going as fast as possible. But Vigilante couldn’t help but give Villain a moment, as he looked up at the blue, cloudless sky with wide eyes. In the sunlight, his horrid, pallid skin became even paler. He seemed feverish, and his shiny eyes were entirely rimmed with tired purple and irritated red. Still, his thin lips formed a shaky smile. He stared at the neatly trimmed trees lining the road, whose bright green leaves almost looked like stained glass in the sunlight.

“It’s spring..” he said, as though that fact was an amazing miracle. “Was... Was I in there all winter? Oh no. I missed Christmas.” He let out a slightly pained laugh, that stopped as quickly as it started. He closed his eyes, and basked in the sun.

“No, Villain..” Vigilante felt sick even saying it out loud, but he deserved to know.

“You missed two. You were in there for over a year.”

Villain’s smile dropped a fraction.

“Oh..”, he said. Vigilante couldn't agree more. What else was there to say but a saddened, but not surprised, “oh”?

Vigilante made his way to the getaway car, a beat-up old thing that he had borrowed from a gym buddy. Usually, he did fine with public transport. But even though the city got wild, carrying a fugitive through the subway was a bit too much to ask.

He put Villain to his feet. Or, at least, he tried. Villain never put any weight on his right leg, Vigilante noticed. The manacle had rubbed a thick band of red irritation on his ankle, which had a silvery sheen of developing scar tissue. But besides that, his foot seemed oddly slack. It didn’t seem to cause him any pain, though, so Vigilante decided to examine that problem closer another time. For now, they just had to get out there. While supporting Villain, who was wobbling on his one leg, he opened the car door.

“Alright, in you go.”

He gently helped Villain sit down. What Vigilante didn’t notice in his hurry to get out of there, was the way Villain tensed up when he sat down on the soft cushioned chair. The feeling of the leather against his back made him breathe faster, and his eyes went wide and glassy. Vigilante grabbed the seatbelt, and moved to buckle him in.

“Alright, let’s strap you in-”

But as he pulled the belt across Villain’s chest, the man broke from his frozen panicked state, and was hurled into a full-blown frenzy. With weak hands, he tried to push Vigilante away. He leaned as far back as the car would allow, his back pressing against the tunnel console.

“No, no, no, god, please, no!” Villain cried, starting off hushed and desperate, but rising his tone with every word.

Instantly, Vigilante let the strap go and took a step back. Villain flailed and whimpered, before seemingly realizing he wasn’t held in anymore, and he threw himself off the chair like it burned him. He had always been lanky and fairy tall, yet he managed to fit under the dashboard with surprising ease. He sat, curled up on the dirty carpet, and was still whimpering.

“No, god, please, Hero, anything but- please!”

Vigilante knelt down next to the open car door.

“Villain. Can you look at me? I’m not Hero. You’re not in trouble.”

He didn’t seem to hear him, and wouldn’t unfurl enough to look in his direction.

“Please, don’t put me back,” he begged weakly.

Oh, this was going to be rough. Vigilante counted to ten in his head, to make sure his response was as calm as he could make it.

“Okay, help me out here. What’s freaking you out?’ He gestured at the car seat. “Is it the chair?”

From Villain’s cry of terror, that was exactly it.

“Please! Please, no-!”

“Alright!” said Vigilante, perhaps a bit too quickly. He couldn’t have Villain screaming and alerting the whole neighborhood.

“Okay, no problem. No chair, you can stay right there, I won’t put you in.”

It seemed like the words were reaching him, because he let out a shuddering sigh of relief.

“Thank you Hero, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not Hero, Villain.” Vigilante tried to remind him, but there was no further response.

VIgilante took a breath to sigh, but then remembered the way Villain had reacted to that before. He kept his breath until he had closed the door and was sure he couldn’t hear him. Then, he sighed, and added a groan for good measure. How was he so bad at this? Not to mention that being confused for Hero was hitting a lot harder than it ought to. He understood why, of course. He couldn’t blame Villain for being confused. But he still felt defensive at the suggestion.

He rubbed his face, and moved to his side of the car.

“You good in there?” He asked the huddled figure in the footwell.

“Yes, I’m good,” came the murmured reply. It was only as Vigilante backed out, that he realized he probably thought he’d meant “well-behaved”, instead of “comfortable”... Well, too late to explain now.

Hero lived in a totally different, more affluent, part of the city than Vigilante, so they had to drive for a bit. After a while, Vigilante checked in.

“How are you doing, Villain?”

He could only see his bony legs and skeletal hands wrapped around them. But he could hear, from his voice, that he wasn’t frantic anymore. He sounded a bit more like himself, albeit dazed and downtrodden.

“I feel foolish,” confessed Villain. “It’s not the chair. And you’re not Hero. I’m sorry for freaking out.”

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m just glad you’re back.”

Villain sat, cramped in the dark space below the glove compartment. Although he was slowly coming back to the present, the leftover adrenaline left him jittery. He was probably going to pass out soon from exerting himself, he knew it. And then he’d wake up... where, exactly?

Prison, most likely. Although Vigilante technically wasn’t in the city’s employ, and used his own moral code, he was still a crimefighter. A damn good one, at that.

Or maybe it wouldn’t be prison. Maybe Vigilante was inspired by Hero’s “work” on him, and wanted to try for himself. They had worked together in the past, after all.

“Vigilante,” Villain asked, and a stubborn part of him hated how meek he sounded now, “where are you taking me?”

Vigilante sounded a bit surprised at the question.

“Oh, my place, of course. It’s only my apartment, but I got some supplies for you. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

Villain felt a chill move through his heart. So he was going to keep him for himself. And this time, not in some fancy cell, no, just in his own home. The “supplies” must be either to hurt him, or to keep him there. Well, Villain wouldn’t leave anyway. If he did, he’d just be recaptured, or worse, found by Hero. He had nowhere to go.

He was pulled from his desolate thoughts when Vigilante continued.

“You know, I probably should warn you: Henchman will be there as well.”

Villain’s breath hitched, and he felt tears come to his eyes. He pressed Henchman’s mask to his heart.

“I... Can I see him?”

“Yes, of course you can.”

“How much of him?” blurted Villain, and he clutched Henchman’s burned mask until his fingers hurt. “How much do you have? Like, belongings, or.. Or ash? Or.. Is there enough to bury?”

Villain felt the car serve a little, and winced. Vigilante’s voice was loud, and a higher pitch than usual.

“Jesus Christ, no! No, he’s not- You thought I had his body? Jesus, Villain, no!”

“Sorry,” murmured Villain, and braced himself for what would happen when they stopped.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t think, I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t even sure what he had done wrong, but it was clear from Vigilante’s horrified tone that he must have. The car drove in a straight line again as the two men tried to collect themselves.

“Listen,” said Vigilante, a bit calmer, “Henchman is alive. He is okay and well, besides a little sleep-deprived. I’m not.. I’m not Hero, okay? I’m not gonna torture you or whatever, I’m just rescuing you. That’s it.”

Vigilante wasn’t as good at manipulation as Hero was. He always made sure his taunts were half-truths, and he never said outright untrue things. If Vigilante wanted to dangle false hope in Villain’s face, he wasn’t falling for it.

“Why would you?” he asked dully. “You hate me.”

“I don’t..” Vigilante objected, but wasn’t able to finish the sentence. “.. Hate is a strong word,” he said instead. “I disagreed on your methods, just like I disagree with Hero. But you don’t deserve this, no one does.”

Villain was quiet for a moment.

“What do I deserve, then?”

“...I don’t know,” confessed Vigilante. “But you should at least get to see Henchman again.”

Villain smiled, and rubbed the charred mask with his thumb. The last of the adrenaline left his body, and his eyes fluttered closed.

“Yeah.. I’d like that.” And as he felt exhaustion and the rumbling of the car overwhelm him, he slept soundly. Because he got to see the sun once more. And when he went to meet Henchman again, at least it wouldn’t be by Hero’s hand.

Taglist: @pumpkin-spice-whump @octopus-reactivated @fanastyfinder @whumpy-arts-and-crafts @arsonfrogger@burtlederp @harri-00

     He dragged the coiled-up hose, all-purpose cleaner and some cleaning rags down the stairs. He’d also grabbed the first aid kit, but Hero made him put it back. Said it wouldn’t be necessary. As he walked up to the cell door, he thought of all the things he wished he could say to Hero. I don’t want to clean him up, he thought. He’s going to be all sad and hurt, and it should make me happy, I know, but it doesn’t. Just hand him over to prison again, and don’t make me clean up your bloody, uhm, your damn mess.   But of course, he would never say that to Hero. So instead, he stood in front of the cell door, gathering courage. He took a deep breath and opened the door in the same way one would rip off a band aid.   The room was a mess. It smelled of sweat and the air was dank. Sidekick scrunched his nose. The tiled floor and the walls had small splatters of blood on them. Not a lot, like someone had been stabbed, more like a very severe beating. Some of the blood looked old. Like Hero had said, Villain was not in the chair, although it still stood in the middle of the room.   Sure enough, there he was: a sad little pile of a man huddled in the furthest corner. Sidekick couldn’t really see much of Villain while he was so curled up. All he saw, was a tangled mess of dark hair and thin, boney arms and legs. The man flinched when he opened the door and curled up even smaller.   “Hey.” called Sidekick. “Don’t worry, it’s me. I’ve come to clean you up.” The man unfurled a bit at that. Sidekick could see his face a bit, now. His hollow, wide eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. One eye was had swollen purple bruising around it, and there were dried tracks of blood from his nose. His pupils were blown wide with whatever was still in his system, despite him not being hooked up to the IV. He didn’t say anything; he just stared.   “Right.” said Sidekick. “Let’s get this started.” He tested the hose, aiming it at the floor, and almost dropped it from the kickback. Oh, right, it was high-pressure. He looked back and forth between the nozzle and Villain. Using it on him wouldn’t injure him, probably. But it would hurt, especially if Hero beat him up. Sidekick worried his lip. Experimenting, he held up the hose so the water came out vertically. It went up in an arc before falling to the floor in heavy droplets. That’d have to do.   “Hey Villain,” he asked, “can you wash yourself?” There was no response, Sidekick looked over to see Villain staring off, his wide eyes vacant.   “Hello? Did you hear me?” Sidekick stepped a bit closer, which did elicit a response. The man jumped and raised his arms over his head.   “Nh-sorry, please, don’t-don’t put me-please-”   “I’m not putting you back, relax.” Villain stopped talking but didn’t lower his arms. Sidekick sighed.   “I’m not gonna hurt you, okay? Now, can you wash yourself or not?" Villain peeked out from under his arms.   “Uhm, I don’t... Can I wash myself? May, I mean, may I, I’m-” He apparently lost his train of thought, staring ahead again for a second.   ‘I’m.. Uh, what-what was the question?”   Sidekick groaned.   “Jesus Christ. Look,” he held up the hose again and demonstrated the improvised shower.   “Now. Can. You. Wash. Your. Self?” he punctuated every word with a gesture. Finally, it seemed to register, and Villain nodded.   “Great. Here’s some stuff, do your thing.” Sidekick handed him the soap and cleaning rag, took a step back and turned on the hose again. The water clattered down just in front of Villain. Sidekick turned around to give him some privacy, and also because he didn’t want to see it anyway. A few seconds after he did, he realised he probably shouldn’t turn his back to someone like Villain. But, well. He didn’t seem like much of a threat anymore. Sidekick had taken him on in hand-to-hand back when he was healthy, he could handle him now. He heard Villain shift and move into the stream. A startled gasp sounded from behind him. The water was probably cold. Well, there wasn’t much Sidekick could do about that. The water splashed as Villain started scrubbing, and then Sidekick heard a wet thud.   “You okay back there?” He called back. He heard a soft groan, but Villain responded: “Y-yes, I-I I can try, sorry.” Some more scrubbing, and another thud, a louder one this time.   “Need a hand?”   “No! No, I'm okay, I c-can wa-whash, hm.” Villain didn’t finish his sentence, trailing off. The scrubbing resumed. Sidekick didn’t say anything. He decided, if he was going to fall one more time, he would help. He understood why Villain didn’t admit he fell, it probably felt really embarrassing. But he didn’t want to him to get hurt too badly. He barely finished that thought, when he heard something slip and fall again.   “Okay, that does it,” he called. “Are you decent? I’m turning around and helping.”   “No! No, please!” He heard the water on the floor splash as Villain moved, probably moving backwards.   “I don’t care about your ego, Villain, you’re going to break your neck like this. Do us both a favor, and cover yourself, yeah?” Sidekick turned around. Villain was still clothed, so that was a plus. A trickle of blood, thinned out by the water, ran over his forehead. He sat back in the corner Sidekick’d found him in, raising his hands again.   “No, sir, I’ll try harder, don’t, don’t put me back, please-!” Sidekick crouched down.   “Hey, nutcase, look at me. I’m not Hero, and am not putting you back. Shut up, look at me.” Villain stopped blabbering and looked at him. His eyes were teary and his breath was strained, like he was close to crying. Sidekick pinched the bridge of his nose.   “I am not putting you back. Okay? No chair. Zero chair today, so stop freaking out.” The words seemed to reach Villain through whatever high he was on, and he calmed down a little.   “Ah, thank you. Th-thank you.” Sidekick shrugged. He grabbed the soaked towel and moved to get started on cleaning him. At his approach, Villain flinched and curled inward again.   “Nh-no, please-” The begging spilled out almost on instinct, it seemed. Sidekick felt a twinge in his gut. Frustrated, he threw the towel on the ground and snarled:   “Will you stop acting so pathetic? It’s- it’s sad! It’s freakin’ weird!” He got up and paced back and forth.   “I mean, are you doing this on purpose? Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you? Huh?” He looked back at Villain, who was trembling and had covered his head with his hands.   “Nh-Please, I'm-”   “Stop that!” yelled Sidekick. “It won’t work, okay? Like, your acting isn’t even convincing, so knock it off!” The shaking didn’t stop. Sidekick could hear small, hitchy breaths.   “’M sorry,” Villain whimpered.“’m sorry, sir, I’ll try better, I’ll-”   “No, that’s exactly what I’m talking about! Stop being so-” Sidekick gestured with his hands vaguely, trying to find the right word.   “so.. Not-you! Just-” He crouched back down, purposefully getting in Villain’s personal space. He pushed back into his corner like he’d phase through if he just pushed hard enough. Sidekick leaned in close.   “Come on, say something. Tell me to piss off, give me one of your smartass comments. I know you’re still in there.” The man didn’t respond.   “If you don’t admit you’re lying, I’m using the hose.” warned Sidekick. He couldn’t see Villain’s face, but he saw the shudder run through his body.   “Hmm, no, please... You’re right, I’m lying, sir. I’ll- I’ll try harder.” Sidekick groaned and rubbed his face.   “That's not what I’m.. Fine. If you want to keep playing your game, go ahead. Just know it won’t work on me.” He studied Villain’s form. He kept hoping that he would unfurl and admit it was all a ruse. He would give one of his comebacks, probably pull a gadget from god knows where, and make a daring escape. But the shuddering mess of limbs before him didn’t look like he was pretending. If he was, he’d missed his calling as actor. But if he really was as pathetic as he looked...   The terrible ache in his gut got worse. Sidekick rose to his feet and walked over to the concrete wall of the cell, and punched it with a grunt. Despite the pain, it made him feel a bit better, so he continued. He briefly wondered if he should release his feelings on Villain. After all, they were his fault. But that thought made the twinge intensify, so he kept punching the wall. When he was done, his knuckles were red and scraped. He had trouble closing his hand fully to a fist. Despite that, he was relieved. He leaned his forehead on the wall and took a deep breath.   “Okay, let’s get this over with.” He turned around. Villain moved even further from him, which Sidekick hadn’t thought possible. He sighed.   “I told you, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just going to help you wash up, okay?” Sidekick’s voice wasn’t laced with anger anymore. He felt calmer, almost detached. He knelt down and pried Villains arms away from his face. He had his eyes scrunched shut and turned his face away, but didn’t fight back. Sidekick pushed down the anger that welled up again, and set about cleaning him.