Coal

Hero’s head snapped towards them, eyes alight, burning a hole straight through to Sidekick’s heart. Their words died on their tongue, decaying in moments and leaving a bitter taste in their mouth.

Anxiety drove Sidekick’s gaze up, up for only a moment to glimpse at Hero’s expression and they cringed.

The documents Hero held slipped out of their hands, falling to the floor in a scatter of papers. Their arms slowly lowered to their sides, fingers curling as their stare never left Sidekick’s.

“Pick them up.”

Hero’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet Sidekick felt the words reverberate through their mind like the harsh clang of a bell.

There was barely ten feet between them, yet each hastened step Sidekick took felt like they were sprinting a mile. They quickly crouched, fumbling to gather the scattered documents with trembling hands. Their fingers brushed against a news clipping, printed only that afternoon.

CITY BANK DESTROYED IN TEAMS FAILED ATTEMPT

Sidekick quickly swept the papers into the folder, reaching to grab one that had managed to slip away.

A boot buried itself in their side, knocking them onto their back and forcing the little air from their lungs in a raspy wheeze.

“Hero-” they barely had time to brace themself before another kick slammed against their ribs, sending a jolt of pain shooting through their torso. The file fell once more, forgotten by both them and the hero. Henchman had managed to catch them with a solid hit there earlier. Sidekick hadn’t had time to examine the injury, but the ache had told them there was some nasty bruising awaiting them beneath their uniform. The new blow lit the injury like a match thrown in a puddle of kerosene, and they gasped. Tears began to well in the corners of their eyes, an involuntary response to the sudden attack.

Hero didn’t allow them a moment to process before the kicks were coming faster. Harder. All Sidekick could do was curl up on their side, tuck their chin and wrap their arms around their head as the hard sole of Hero’s boot came crashing into them over and over again. They were still in their uniform too, the hard boots meant for traveling rough terrain and facing brutal villains.

By the time Hero relented, Sidekick was sobbing, struggling to breathe through short, strangled gasps.

“Stand up.”

The command took a moment to hit Sidekick’s ears, a second longer to process in their mind. Their ears were ringing, a throb building beneath their skull that unfocused their vision as they dared to open their eyes.

Hero stood above them, boots not six inches from their face. Fear curdled in their stomach, making them hesitate a long moment before slowly unraveling themself to follow the order. They could only imagine how easy it would be for that same boot to smash their nose, split open their face.

The room swam as Sidekick struggled to get their arms beneath them, raising to their hands and knees. Every muscle in their body screamed in protest, every sliver of sense cried for them to run.

To cower.

They knew that wasn’t an option. It never was, but especially after today. They had barely began to get to their feet, trembling, before Hero grabbed a fistful of the front of Sidekick’s uniform, wrenching them up. Sidekick could feel their power leeching into their touch, a shred of inhuman strength aiding their movement. Hero was always in careful control of their abilities, of everything.

They slammed Sidekick against the wall with enough force to crack the drywall, and Sidekick couldn’t stop a small cry from slipping past their lips.

A fist slammed into their jaw with enough force to snap their head to the side, blinding pain exploding across their face. Immediately the taste of copper began to coat Sidekick’s tongue. For a moment, their vision went completely white, a billion fireworks stealing their sight before they felt Hero’s hand wrap around their chin, fingers digging into their face with such force Sidekick felt like their jaw was going to snap. Tears and snot streaked their skin, the saliva dripping from their lip tinted red with their sobs.

“Shut the fuck up,” Hero snapped, shoving Sidekick’s head harder against the wall as their body shook. Sidekick’s eyes screwed shut, their lungs failing as they gasped.

“This is on you,” Hero hissed, their other hand still fisted in Sidekick’s shirt, pinning them in place. “I’ve given you chance after chance to prove yourself. To show me you aren’t a fucking waste of time. But it’s still mistake after mistake, screw up after screw up. You can’t follow the simplest orders. You can’t do anything.”

Sidekick could feel the heat of Hero’s breath, their fingers digging in harder with each word. Sidekick cracked their eyes, their blurred gaze flicking to the door before Hero wrenched them forwards, only to throw them back against the wall. The hand in their uniform released, only for Hero to bury their fist in Sidekick’s abdomen, grip on their jaw holding them in place as Sidekick heaved.

“Don’t you dare look over there. No one is coming to ‘save’ you. Not Teammate, not Medic, not Other Hero. You are my charge and I’m supposed to deal with you in whatever way I see fit. Understand?”

Hero’s hand returned, finding its way to Sidekick’s exposed neck. Time seemed to slow as Hero’s fingernails began to bite into the skin, constricting Sidekick’s throat.

“So this is Hero’s golden apprentice? The agency’s shiny new star?” A crude voice laughed, as rough as the pavement beneath them as the pressure on Sidekick’s back increased. Their assailant leaned forwards, shifting more weight to the boot planted just below Sidekick’s shoulder blades, and scoffed, their voice dripping with mockery and amusement. “The best and brightest? The promising new rookie?”

“Ff- ‘uck,” Sidekick grit through clenched teeth, blinking hard against the crackling pain that sparked through their skull. One arm was trapped beneath them, pinned awkwardly under their body and strained with the suppressing weight. With the other they made a grab for the sheath strapped to their hip, arm barely managing to move before their attacker’s other foot drew forwards, settling heavily to block their attempt.

The pressure on their back released, but Sidekick didn’t have a moment to act before a heavy weight by dropped on their lower back, knee digging hard into their spine. A hand grabbed onto the back collar of their uniform, dragging their torso up as so their assailant could grab their trapped arm. Nails bit into Sidekick’s wrist as their arm was twisted behind them, drawing a sharp hiss as they felt the muscles in their shoulder strain.

The hand released their jacket, moving to wrench their other arm back. Cold metal pressed against the back of their wrist, snapping painfully secure before the metal snared their other arm, securing their wrists crossed behind their back with a sharp tug.

“Shh’t- stop,” Sidekick spat, pink tinted saliva dripping from the corner of their mouth. In response, their attacker only forced the cuffs tighter, leaving Sidekick to wince as the metal bit into their wrists.

“You’d really gotten my hopes up, I hate to admit. Usually I’m better planned,” they sighed, exaggerated disappointment lacing their tone. “After I saw your fight with OtherVillain on the news, I just couldn’t wait to meet you. It just seemed so promising.”

Sidekick squirmed, staggering an inhale as they tried to fight the fog clouding their thoughts from the various hits. They were better than this, they had never lost a fight like they just had. They always fought smart, training with the academy or sparring with Hero, and when they lost, however rare, it was always a strong loss.

This could barely be considered a fight, rather a straight assault. Sidekick was tired, a rough scuff with Henchman had left them dappled with bruises and scrapes, worn muscles that protested with every move. It had been a long fight, and despite Sidekick’s eventual triumph, they were tired and aching. All they had been trying to do was return to Hero’s home, to take a hot shower and wash away the dirt that smudged their skin before settling for a long sleep in their own bed. The thought had snared their mind the moment they watched Henchman be loaded into the back of an agency transport van. It was evening, the last scarlet streaks of sunset were disappearing over the crests of the tall buildings, but the city was still settling into night, and they hadn’t wanted to deal with the publicity on the streets. So they took a back route, cut through a few neighborhoods down alleys and cracked sidewalks. They had let their guard down, stupidly allowed themself to delve into the daydream of a warm bowl of soup and ibuprofen, listening to Hero’s voice hum through their communicator.

They had been attacked from behind, their legs kicked out from beneath them. It had all happened so fast, their hasty flail of defense barely holding a few seconds before they were overpowered. The ear piece was ripped from their ear, crushed at some point during the short skirmish.

The pressure lifted off of them for a moment, rough hands twisting them onto their back before a knee planted hard against their abdomen.

Cold eyes stared down at them, the faint streetlights reflecting against their glare with gleaming, predatory flickers.

Sidekick had known it was a villain even without seeing their assailant’s face. No civilian would be foolish enough to try to attack anyone wearing an agency uniform, especially not one who had been featured across the media in recent weeks as a promising new hero.

Now, with that piercing gaze striking them like a knife, their stomach twisted. They were sure Supervillain could feel the drop of their heart, their lips curling into a smirk as Sidekick’s eyes locked wide.

“I wonder what the Agency would do to get you back. What Hero would do,” Supervillain mused out loud. “Their treasured little trainee. I’ve seen all of the interviews, the way they talk about you. They’re always so proud, they adore you.”

Sidekick’s chest tightened as Supervillain spoke, feeling the sparks of fear creep into their throat, burning away any words into ask.

“I don’t know how much Hero’s told you about me, but I have to assume it hasn’t been much. You see, Hero and I go way back,” Supervillain brought a hand up, letting their fingers draw over the red blotch swelling on Sidekick’s jaw, the beginnings of a nasty bruise. “There’s been a few favors I’ve needed them to do for me, but they’ve never had any incentive,”

Sidekick winced as Supervillain grabbed their chin, a wisp of touch turning into a throbbing grasp in a moment.

“You, however,” Supervillain’s lips curled back, expression caught somewhere between a grin and a snarl. “You will change all of that.”

Supervillain released their jaw, shifting off of them and grabbing Sidekick by the collar of their jacket, hauling them up as they stood. Supervillain’s grip quickly moved to the back of their neck, fingertips digging into Sidekick’s skin.

“He-Hero, this isn’t funny, stop.” Villain grit out, shrinking as far back as the chair would allow. Hero only pressed closer, moving in so their legs were on either side of Villain’s, their ankles bound to the chair legs.

“Was it funny when the roles were reversed? All those nights I spent tied up in your basement, bleeding and cold? Was it funny then?” Hero hissed, their other hand raising to Villain’s face with the speed of a strike. Barely in time, Villain braced themself, only for a warm hand to press against their jaw, fingers brushing over the curve of their cheekbone. The touch was stark against the chill in the air, a misplaced comfort—artificial. Hero’s stroked their thumb below Villain’s eye gently, before coming to a pause with both hands cradling either side of Villain’s face. “Was it?”

“No, no Hero, it wasn’t,” Villain’s voice wavered now, threatening to crack. “You can’t do this, you’re s’posed to be the good guy-”

Hero stepped back suddenly, tearing their hands away from Villain’s face like their skin had turned toxic. Villain tried to ignore the ache that swelled in their chest as the cold air drowned any remnants of the warm touch in moments.

“I guess I am, aren’t I? The ‘good guy’?” Hero repeated, turning their back to Villain. They stepped to the side of the poorly lit room, to something that resembled an old workbench, their body blocking Villain from seeing what they were doing. “I wonder what the press will say about your sudden absence. They’ll publish anything I tell them to, you know? I could feed them some story about you fleeing the city, the country even, and your name would be forgotten in a week.”

Hero turned around, bracing their palms against the workbench and leaning back.

“Everyone always believes the good guy, don’t they?” Hero shook their head. “No one cares about another pesky street criminal, do they? All they care about is Supervillain, the papers would move on from you the next day and you’d be forgotten. You wouldn’t even get one of those ten year follow-ups.”

“Hero, let me go. You can’t do this. You can’t,” Villain twisted their arms against their restraints in one last pitiful attempt to free themself, accomplishing nothing but to make Hero chuckle.

Hero pushed themself forwards, striding closer. It was only then Villain noticed something in their hand, slender and orange—a box cutter, they realized quickly, as the hero closed the distance between them in three steps.

“Tell me exactly what I can and can’t do, Villain? What can’t I do to you?” Their hand twisted in Villain’s hair, shoving their head back against the chair while the other flipped out the blade on the box cutter.

The words died in Villain’s throat. Their lips parted, eyes tracking the blade as Hero lifted it up to their face.

“I can do anything I want to you.” Hero’s eyes stared directly into Villain’s as they placed the blade against their skin, just below their eye. “You should be glad, your eyes look so pretty when you’re scared. Otherwise I would’ve plucked them out by now,” Hero began to move the blade to the side, putting just enough pressure to split a thin line of red below Villain’s eye.

Villain didn’t dare breathe as Hero paused, gritting their teeth against the sting as they felt the blade puncture a bit deeper. A drop of blood rolled down their cheek like a tear.

“I thought about this moment every night in your basement,” Hero muttered, pushing the edge harder into Villain’s flesh as they followed the track of the blood, drawing a half suppressed yelp from Villain as the pain suddenly intensified. “Planning out exactly what I would do to you, how I’d pay you back for everything you’ve done to me.”

Hero accented the last word with a sudden sharp twist, finishing the line to Villain’s jaw before pulling their hand back. Tears burning in the corners of Villain’s eyes, welling faster than Villain could suppress them.

“Ple- please, Hero, you can’t,” Villain’s voice trembled, any thoughts of maintaining their dignity gone with their fear.

Hero’s palm cracked against their bleeding cheek, catching them off guard. Pain like fire burned from the cut, their head snapping to the side with the force of the blow.