#brooke writes

benjamin poindexter, former fbi agent, veteran, and scarily-expert sniper, was in prison, said the TV. your heart stuttered in your chest when his picture filled the screen. blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a chiseled, scarred face. your hand snaked up to your neck, where the bruises had long faded from his strong fingers keeping you pinned against your bedroom floor. he had pressed a pistol gently to the side of your head, snugly in the spot just below your ear that dex refused to admit he wanted to mouth at. you could nearly feel the cool metal on your skin through his empty gaze in the mugshot.

you smirked at the sight of one particular scar on his neck, where you'd gotten him good. the TV switched to video of his arrest and your smirk got wider. you hadn't pressed charges against him after the incident, but this was satisfying enough.

you owed your life to matt murdock. you knew that. he jumped in at the last second, after having tracked dex across the city that night, and got the gun away from dex, away from you, and away from harm.

yet for some reason, when you really thought back to that moment, you couldn't shake the feeling that you weren't in any mortal danger in dex's hold.

you had put up a good fight — you really had — but he took you down in seconds. despite his hand gripping your throat hard enough to bruise, and the obvious threat of the firearm, there was something akin to curiosity in his eyes when you batted your pretty eyelashes up at him. rays of moonlight peeked through the blinds, casting harsh diagonal lines across his ruggedly handsome face. a face you'd seen a few times on the street or the subway, watching from afar, now that you thought about it. when the initial surprise wore off, you willed your wild heartbeat to slow, but it rejected this request at the starved twinkle in his stunning eyes.

"it's you," you gasped.

you...recognized him? dex short-circuited. his mind spun like a top.

your breath caught as his hold tightened on you. you remember the fear that shocked you at the question of whether he had a finger on the trigger. why even bother asking? the answer was yes, of course.

what you didn't know was that benjamin poindexter was doing his absolute best impression of a person holding it together. you, with your minty breath fanning over him, coming from between your soft, parted lips, with your favorite lip balm on them. he was there to kill you after stalking you for weeks, and now you were there, in his arms, pressed against him and the carpet. he should be pulling the trigger. but here he was, wondering what the lip balm tasted like on your sweet lips. dex let out a measured breath. and was that...desire? just there, in the flecks of green in his eyes?

"'s me," he spoke. you thought his voice would be confident, but it rasped, grating the way a gravel driveway might. desperate.

your fear seeped through you. it only emphasized your intoxicating scent: the salt from the sweat beading on your forehead; the layered notes of your perfume; the pheromones stirring beneath your soft skin. the fear mixed slowly with shame as you found your eyes flickering down to his lips.

dex inhaled sharply, tracking your movements. he should just do it. it's simple. pull the fucking trigger and be done with the mission, dex.

you made the situation oh-so-much worse when you drew one of your full lips between your teeth. he took a ragged breath and tried not to calculate the exact distance between your bodies: mere millimeters, if that. everything about you was warm and intoxicating. when was the last time dex was warm? he got lightheaded at the thought.

"what's your name?" you ask, voice shaking, not at all expecting an answer.

a beat passed as he considered you the way a predator would. a dangerous gleam reflected in his his haunting gaze.

"dex."

"you've been watching me," you realized.

"i have," dex answered steadily, carefully, like he was walking on eggshells, terrified of saying the wrong thing. as if this entire ordeal wasn't way past "the wrong thing" at this point.

"you're here to kill me."

"i am," he answered with that same guilty calm. he wouldn't meet your eye, but studied your face.

your stomach churned. you knew your work would get you in this type of trouble someday. you pissed off wilson fisk? this is what you got.

the clock on your night stand ticked the seconds away. otherwise, the charged silence and dex's clean, musky scent in the room suffocated everything else. this stranger was here to kill you and yet, his brows were pulled together, forming a crease on his forehead, like he was reconsidering. you were floored by the overwhelming urge to kiss him on the wrinkled, slightly damp skin...god, you were sick for that, right?

dex warily watched you swallow. he was nearly vibrating with the need to let out a single one of the tormenting emotions he was feeling, especially with how things were now that julie had left. the buzzing in his brain was building. he felt like a dog about to whine, begging to be pet.

without making any sudden movements, you engaged your core and lifted your hips just so, to grind with him gently. his eyes nearly bulged out of his skull, cheeks turning pink when he couldn't stifle the erotic moan that you pulled from him. the barrel of the gun had nodded off, no longer pressed directly to your skull. you grinned wickedly.

"already, baby?" you teased, of course, referring to the quivering erection dex was sporting.

for the life of him, he didn't know what to do. dex was so mortified, he wanted to crawl inside himself and never show his face ever again. the tips of his ears were a shade of deep maroon. equally shameful was how fucking turned on he was by the whole endeavor, down to simply finding you beautiful in the early days, now to this. it took every ounce of self control in his body to wrestle back his appetites before they slipped free from his grasp.

"fuck you," he spat. anything to cool the burn of your rejection. you brushed it off with a chuckle and it only infuriated him more. the corners of your mouth curved upward in a knowing smirk.

"yeah?" you mocked, tilting your head to the side. "you wanna?"

"knock it off, you fucking brat." dex thrust his hips forward, pinning you both to the floor beneath. he stole the wind from your lungs and tore a moan from deep within your chest. humiliation flared instantly.

and then the motherfucker had the audacity to laugh. your nostrils flared in irritation. "sorry, sweetheart. you make fun of me for getting desperate but i get you down here and its..." he took a grounding breath. "well, it's the pot calling the kettle black, here, angel, isn't it?"

"shut the fuck up," you sighed, digging your fingernails deeper into the jumpsuit fabric covering his bicep as punishment. dex sighed too, trying his damnedest to mirror your movements as to not spook you away. he invited the pain from your nails — found it familiar — as something to tie himself to.

he bound himself to your degrading words. he bound himself to the gasp you let out when he rolled into you again; to the feeling of your warm body against him; to the view of you beneath him. dex felt himself becoming obsessed in real-time. it was intoxicating.

you were dizzy for a similar reason, but you'd never admit it, quite literally with a gun pointed at your head. shame cooked low and slow in your core. you had only intended to tease him, to knock him off his game. never did you think you'd like it. heaven forbid. nor did you think he'd be so responsive and...big against you.

you got the distinct impression that if you were to ask, dex would gladly manhandle you in this position onto the bed. to even consider it was horrible...right? to want it was...

"are you gonna kill me tonight, dex?" your voice was barely above a whisper.

dex groaned like he was in pain, leaning down to nuzzle your cheek. "'m still thinking about it, honey, mkay? it's complicated. just...just let me think a second, hold on."

you nodded fervently. he was weighing his options. at this time, you had to weigh yours, too. was it clinical? to want to fuck your stalker? had to be. he's threatening your life, you fucking idiot.

dex's breath came in hot pants against you, his strong nose pressing into the soft skin of your face. yes, this was reckless. dumb, perhaps. if you didn't have so much damning evidence that he wanted you, maybe you could have just acted like a normal person and cried and begged for your life.

by the time matt — a dear friend — had swooped in and saved the day, you were certain that dex wouldn't kill you. he'd thrown something haphazardly after you once matt got him a safe distance away, but you couldn't tell anyone that, least of all matt. by god, how could you begin to explain?

"no, matt, he wasn't going to kill me. what was he doing here? he was here to kill me. but don't worry! he changed his mind!" is that what your line was?

as for exactly how dex changed his mind, you'd blame it all on the lack of oxygen getting to your brain from being choked.

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years went by and benjamin poindexter wondered if you were the same. he wondered if your smile lines had deepened; if you had changed your hairstyle; if you still smelled like an autumn evening. his leg bounced up and down in anticipation. the bus was nearly there.

calm and collected, dex got off the bus and went into the nearest thrift store he could find. after ditching the prison guard outfit in the nearest garbage bin, dex popped the tags off his new hoodie and sweatpants. thank you, goodwill.

in no time, he was off with a spring in his step, headed uptown to the cafe you spent most of your saturdays in. sometimes when he had a particularly awful saturday, he daydreamt of sitting beside you here.

despite being the most wanted person in new york city, dex passed through midtown without issue, with his head down, weaving in and out of people, like any other annoyed, overstimulated new yorker. because of course it was raining. he'd memorized the map to this cafe so many times that his feet took him there without much thought, even after all this time. the thought brought a rusty smile to his lips.

the cafe sign came into view and dex's steps slowed. he clenched his fists repeatedly, trying to keep his breathing steady. he could do this. he could talk to you.

he spotted you instantly: in the back corner as always, nose deep in a book, leg swung over the side of an armchair like a cat. you cradled a mug against your chest, cuddling against its warmth. you looked so cozy. dex let some very specific memories wash over him as he stood there, pretending to read the menu.

"fuck it," he said to himself. dex took a breath and steeled his reinforced spine, eyeing the armchair next to yours. he sat himself in it and grinned wildly at you.

"oh, um, hi," you greeted without looking, a smile on your eternally-pretty face, nose still in your book.

this stranger said your name in a voice that haunted your dreams and you froze. your blood ran cold. your eyes peeked over the edge of your book while your heartbeat was a stereo in your ear, and you met a set of fierce hazel eyes that you'd remembered all too well.

"hear me out," dex begged your name. it was quite the pleasant sound, you had to admit. he must have seen the horror on your face. "jus' wanted to let you know that i'm gonna be coming by tonight at eleven. want to apologize…for what i've done. gonna knock three times on the window, mkay?"

your stomach dropped, and your mug almost did as well.

"w-what?"

"'m home now." ben's cheek scars flexed as he smirked devilishly. "thought i'd come pay you a visit."

"you've already paid me enough visits," you spat with disdain.

"ouch, sweetheart, that hurts," dex softly mocked as he fake-cradled his arm. he leaned in low, lips right next to your ear. "i know you remember what happened last time."

you sat up abruptly, closing your book with a thump. dex caught your drink before it spilled, setting it down on the table beside you gently. you didn't have time to be grateful, instead doing your best not to look panicked to everyone else.

"really not tryna hurt you," he murmured. "i swear."

and with that, dex stood up and strolled to the door, exiting left and disappearing into the manhattan crowd outside.

by the time eleven o'clock had rolled around, your stomach was in anxious knots. you picked at the skin by your fingernails as you tried anything and everything to distract you: your favorite TV show, that book from earlier, etc. none of it could keep your mind from racing.

could you trust his word? probably not.

but something about the earnestness in his eyes was haunting. and he had chosen to spare your life before.

you were not entirely surprised when the tri-knock came at exactly 11:00:00 PM. it was your bedroom window, as you knew it would be. the same one he used to break into your home the night he tried to kill you all those years ago. the knock sent a thrill down your spine. you were frozen in place by it and its implications.

only after you took a shaky breath, and dex knocked thrice again, you scurried over to the window to unlock it. dex stepped into your bedroom and exhaled, smiling. he caught your watchful eye and clamped down his slight display of emotion. but he had to admit that it was nice to be back here again, surrounded by you.

shutting the window and blinds, you sat on your bed criss-cross applesauce, and so dex did the same beside you. your posture was razor-straight, rigid. he liked that about you. among many other things, now that he let his gaze drift over you.

he met your glare. "i'm so sorry…for trying to kill you. fisk made me."

your jaw dropped. "that's it?"

dex straightened, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. your hand landed on his knee. "w-what are you doing?"

you chuckled, inching closer to him with your hand resting softly on his thigh now. "i think i deserve a better apology than that, benjamin."

"you want me to beg?" dex asked lowly, pressing his nose to your neck, inhaling your perfume. part of you ached at the thought. "i'll beg for you, baby. i'll do anything for you."

your fingers gripped his thigh with authority, or maybe it was desperation. "tell me how sorry you are."

"fuck," dex panted. "'m so sorry, sweetheart, i never really wanted to hurt you. you're so good. too good for me."

"you purposely missed at the end — when you threw those pens — didn't you?"

a smirk slid across his pink lips. "i plead the fifth."

you laughed. you actually belly-laughed, and knowing he'd been the source, seeing the twinkle in your eye, ben poindexter could die a happy man.

"just wish i could make it up to you," he whispered, eyes pleading, like a sad retriever.

"dex—" you inhaled sharply when his lips gently attached to the delicate spot of your neck and began suckling. on instinct, your hand on his thigh began to move higher and desire began to pool in your core. dex swatted your hand away and moved to lay between your legs.

your mind was spinning with the wrongness of it all. never mind if he hadn't wanted to hurt you, what about all of the other things he'd done? what about—

dex's quest began with taking off your fuzzy socks and sensually kissing up the insides of your calves. you could think of nothing else with his lips on your skin, leaving trails of fire in his wake. he relished in the taste of the scented lotions and oils that were part of your nighttime routine — they hadn't changed. he reached your pajama shorts and hesitated, looking up at you.

permission? you could have laughed at the absurdity, but you found yourself nodding with anticipation instead.

dex made quick work of your bottoms, exposing your lower half to the cool air of your room and his greedy gaze. with no time to waste, dex's lips teased your inner thighs and vulva for an unbearably long time before he pressed a sloppy kiss to your leaking pussy. the whine that ripped out of your chest was pornographic in nature, and dex giggled like a kid at christmas.

"yeah, you like that, pretty girl?" he teased, tongue swiping your juices off his lips like it was sacred.

"dex, please," you begged. for friction, for some kind of release, for anything at this point. shame tinted your cheeks a shade darker.

he groaned into your pussy, tongue working on your lips, until he finally paid some mind to your aching clit. you weren't shocked that he found it so easily: he was bullseye after all. but the pleasure from his lips wrapping around it was euphoric. your back arched away from the bed, so dex's arm slid beneath you. a smile touched your lips when you realized this was his attempt at closeness.

"so fucking wet…just for me," dex muttered to himself, possession taking root.

his tongue prodded your clit with perfect precision. oh yes, he noted each and every one of your honeyed sighs and rolling shudders. dex learned your body language so well he had you coming undone on his tongue in seconds. your legs shook as you rode your way through it, moaning and mewling.

dex thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

your fingernails scratched his scalp just right when you ran your fingers through his hair like that. he purred like a cat beneath your touch.

dex left open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive cunt, lazily lapping up your cum. "pussy tastes so good, baby. i knew it would."

you whined at the praise. "yeah? you think about me?"

a wicked grin appeared on his frustratingly handsome features. a thick finger pressed at your entrance. he gazed up at you, light-headed, waiting for your permission again. but you wanted an answer first.

dex whimpered, avoidant. "think about you every fucking day, alright?"

a beat of silence passed between you two.

"you're the only good thing i have."

your heart broke at his admission. there weren't any sort of words to convey what you were feeling. you reached down for him, your kind hand cupping his trembling jaw. you beckoned dex to settle between your legs at eye-level, and you laid a soothing kiss on his horizontal cheek scar.

next, you kissed his swollen lips. they were just as soft as you thought they'd be. he tasted of mint and you. your tongue dipped into his damned mouth and dex moaned as you explored him, grinding his clothed erection into your pussy. you kissed him hungrily, pulling at his hoodie, anything to get him closer.

dex nearly ripped his sweatshirt off, and you decided to take your top off too. he choked on air at the sight of you, eyebrows raised. you tugged his pants down so you were both naked and he could have died on the spot.

"please," he croaked.

"i know, baby," you cooed, cradling his cheek. you brushed your lips over his and he sighed in contentment, gripping your waist for stability. dex sat down, hand held out to you in invitation to join in his lap, and you accepted.

he kissed you like a man starved, with feverish, hungry lips and too much teeth. you didn't mind. he reached down between your bodies once again in question, fingers just barely dancing over your dripping cunt, before you were nodding and dex was slipping them in. the stretch of his calloused digits was delicious. dex's head fell like a dead weight against your neck and laid kisses there.

"f-fuck, dex, just like that, please," you insisted, voice high and sharp.

he had two fingers pumping in you while his ruthless thumb worked your clit, already nearing you to orgasm once more. his fingers curled toward him, reaching that spongy part of your insides. your breath hitched as you clenched tighter on him.

"mm, right there, honey?" he teased, gaining confidence now that your moans had become considerably louder. dex increased the pressure on your clit, drawing flawless circles.

"yes, please!" you were putty in his hands and you both knew it.

he chuckled erotically beneath your earlobe, occasionally biting it. "want me to make you cum again, pretty girl?"

you nodded, embarrassed, chewing your lower lip.

dex tsk-ed in disapproval. "words, baby."

"please make me cum again, dex," you sobbed.

the words made dex pause, bathing in the feeling of being needed, his eyelids fluttering shut in pleasure. he grinned like a maniac against your smooth skin.

"don't worry, doll, i will." he peppered tender kisses to your throat as he resumed fingering you. the relief almost made your knees go out and you subconsciously leaned further into his large frame.

"feels so good," you whispered. "don't stop. please don't stop, oh god."

dex grunted, nodding slightly. he kept his pace, pushing his long fingers in and out as you made a mess all over his hand. it was a mess benjamin poindexter sincerely didn't mind.

"'m gonna…" the muscles in your core pulled taut as orgasm washed over you once again. you collapsed against dex, who caught and cradled you as your legs continued to ruthlessly shake.

"that's it, good girl," he grumbled, planting a kiss on top of your head as you lay on his chest.

it took you a few moments to recover from the aftershocks before you lifted your head enough to catch his eye. your saccharine smile made dex melt on the spot. you traced his jaw absentmindedly, admiring his handsome, scarred face.

"thank you," you said bashfully, smothering your shame by capturing dex's lips in a lingering kiss.

"you are very fucking welcome," dex replied with a laugh, kissing you passionately. his fingers slipped out of you and you took an interrupting sharp breath, wincing slightly. "i know, baby, 'm sorry."

"'s okay," you reassured, readjusting your position on his lap. his erection brushed your soaked core and you both sighed.

dex smirked like the devil, bringing his juicy fingers up to your pouty, puffy lips. you opened wide for him, sucking his digits with hollowed cheeks. you tasted your syrupy coating on him and moaned, looking dex square in the eye as you did so. his mouth fell open as you licked his fingers clean, big eyes staring up at him, straight out of one of his fantasies.

when you were finished, you released him with an exaggerated pop! of your sinful lips. but your mercy ended there as you started to kiss along the side of his neck. dex was lightheaded.

you reached between you and gathered some slick from your pussy onto your fingers, then wrapped them around dex's girthy, veiny cock. he threw his head back and let out a choked moan of your name. he throbbed in your hand, length growing as you stroked him with each flick of your pretty wrist.

but as much fun as it would have been to tease him all night, that wasn't what you wanted right now.

you released your grip, positioning him against your cunt instead. dex couldn't breathe.

"not gonna last long, honey," dex confessed honestly, eyes flickering over you in hunger and insecurity. you nodded in understanding. he was in prison for nearly a decade.

you leaned forward and kissed dex slow and sweet, as you gradually sank onto his length, inch-by-inch. his leaky cock stretched you open to perfection as you swallowed each others' moans.

"hng, fuck, s-sweetheart, so fucking wet 'n tight for me."

you nodded with fervor, whines slipping from your beautiful lips, desperate to please him. "just for you."

dex shuddered, cock throbbing inside you. he wanted to scream that you couldn't just say things like that to someone like him, but he lost the willpower when he bottomed out inside you. your gorgeous eyes rolled back as his tip kissed your cervix. you steadied a warm hand on dex's left cheek and he nuzzled into your touch, as you began to build a fixed rhythm of your hips. his hazel eyes bore into yours with intensity and he rocked his hips against yours in tandem. he truly never wanted to leave this moment.

the only sounds that filled the room were the obscene schlucks of your pussy as you rode dex and the feral moans that the two of you coaxed from each other. your unoccupied hand ended up intertwined with dex's much larger one, fingers interlaced.

he took one of your nipples into his mouth, biting and suckling. the pain-pleasure mix sent a fresh wave of heat down to your core and you moaned uncontrollably with your bottom lip sucked between your teeth. the noise encouraged dex, who was a mess of his own, to continue mouthing at your tits and fucking up into you. his breathing was ragged now, as he snaked his precise fingers down to your clit once more.

"yes!" you whined. "fuck me, baby, please. just like that."

dex grunted. "yeah, you like that, beautiful? like having me deep inside you like that?"

"mhm!"

"mm, 's what i thought. look so pretty taking me nice 'n fucking slutty."

you gasped, preening at his explicit praise. he smiled up at you like you were the sun in the sky, sweat beading on his temple.

the familiar knot of tension in your abdomen was building. you could feel yourself getting wetter, the glide of his cock having so little resistance it should have been blasphemy. dex's cheeks were flushed, his intertwined fingers sweaty, his legs trembling.

you maintained your steady pace, licking a stripe of sweat from the base of his throat to just below his ear. dex whimpered and it's the sexiest sound you'd ever heard.

"f-fuck, baby, 'm close," he warned, trying to compose himself. "pussy just feels t-too fucking good. so fucking good."

"it's okay, dex," you said, laying another sweet kiss to his lips. "it's okay."

and something about your tone of voice, coating the "it's okay"s like honey, told him he was safe in your arms, and sent dex straight over the edge in hysterics. he crashed his lips into yours like a desperate teenager. you found it oddly charming, smiling against him. he moaned pathetically into your mouth, murmuring nonsense praise, while his cum spilled deep into you. his cock pulsed as your overstimulated pussy milked him dry.

your climax hit you violently at the sight of dex's red-rimmed, teary eyes. you wondered just how long his body had been deprived of that. you clung to him, trembling, as you rode out your high, leaving a juicy white ring around his cock that dripped onto his balls below. you were still holding hands — the grip suffocating.

you turned dex's gaze to yours and languidly licked up his tears. it almost made dex cry more — your kindness — but he methodically slowed his breathing with every bit of will power he had. and then you were kissing him and his cock was twitching inside you and he was dizzy all over again, but he was exactly where he wanted to be. his mind was dead silent.

you would figure out the mechanics of this tomorrow. for now, you were falling asleep with dex buried balls-deep inside you.

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a/n: hello again from the ether!! my goodness this was fun to write. sry it took so long to my lovely requester, since i wanted to give it my all, i took my time! i would suck this man dry à la capri sun. like mouth is actively watering. ugh. every day i wake up and thank god for wilson bethel.

i've decided to make this an ethel cain series because i think that fits dex horrifically well sometimes lolll

as always, pls lmk your thoughts! and as always, asks and requests r opennnnn!

xoxo, b

Henry and Piper have been sitting on the couch for a long time. Like a really long time. Like they have never, ever been this close together for this long, long time. 

They hadn’t despised each other before or anything, but they were both often running around doing a million things. Piper putting herself out there on the internet for thousands of people, and Henry putting himself in danger for the sake of his city.

But after learning how many times she almost lost her brother forever, Piper wanted to be a little bit closer to him whenever she could be, even when doing something incredibly boring like homework. Sometimes they would talk about their days, but most of the time they would just sit without uttering a word. The young girl just came to appreciate the fact that her brother was there, with her, and not being beaten halfway-to-death behind a deserted building. 

She wasn’t on top of him, physically or metaphorically speaking, she didn’t want to drive him away even further than he had been, but being on the same side of the couch didn’t leave much room between them. 

Their parents were out, maybe still at work, maybe somewhere else, but the kids didn’t mind. They liked the house when it was a bit quieter. Now that there were no more secrets between them, both of them found real joy and peace in being alone.

Piper sighed, and looked up from her biology textbook and broke the silence. She didn’t know why she was so nervous to ask her own brother a question, but she was. “Can I ask you something?”

Henry looked up from his copy of The Great Gatsby. “You know I got a D in bio, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” she laughed. “But it’s not about that.”

“Good.” He closed the book and tossed in onto the coffee table. “So what’s up?”

Piper looked down and ran her thumb over the edge of the pages of her book to relax herself. “Why do you do it?”

Henry wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but had a pretty good guess. “My job?”

“Yeah.”

“Honestly,” he stopped, trying to think of a reason. For a question he thought about a lot, he couldn’t seem to find the right answer. What could possibly be the reason he would give it all up for? What was worth losing his life? He started to think about if he dies on the job, what will happen? What would his parents think? Would it be worth it? But the thought that made his eyes start to tear up was the thought of Piper being an only child. Piper, without a brother to care for her when their parents were nowhere to be found.

His baby sister moved the book off of her lap and slid over to hug him before he completely broke down crying. She saw his lip quivering when trying to get out what he was thinking, and felt horrible for asking something so personal. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I never should’ve asked.”

Deep down, Piper was the one thing he cared about the most. Yes, he loved Charlotte and Jasper, he was really close with Ray, he cared about Schwoz too, and really everyone in Swellview, but Piper was the one person he would always put before anyone else. He turned to face her, but instead of looking at her, he hugged her tighter than he ever had and let his eyes soak the collar of her shirt. 

They sat like that for a few minutes, with Henry shrinking himself down so that his face would rest on his sister’s shoulder, and allowing himself to really let it out and cry for what felt like the first time in a decade. His hands were grasping at the fabric on her back, like if he let go he’d disappear and be lost forever. 

Henry was able to pull himself together to give her an actual answer. After a few sniffles, he could look her in the eyes. “I said I would. I made a promise. People were counting on Kid Danger, Ray was counting on me to be there.

“At first,” he continued, “I was doing it because it was new, and fun, and exciting, and it still is, but you get used to being in…”

“Danger?”

“Sure,” he laughed. “And you do get to a point where you start thinking, what am I doing here, why me, and then you remember that you swore to protect people, and to help them. You made a commitment. But after that wears off, and you’re so tired of coming home and having to cover up cuts and bruises and the only things going through your mind are all the worst possibilities, and what if this, what if that, and now, really thinking about it, if I had to pin it down to one reason, it would,” his voice started to break, “be you. It’ll always be you.”

He worried if that was too much. She’s just a kid, and I just unloaded all my emotional baggage onto her and told her my entire sob story. 

“What?” She asked, her voice not even above a whisper.

“For some reason,” he answered, “this town has more criminals than everywhere else in the state combined. They’re out there all the time, constantly hurting people.” He took a second to catch his breath. “People, children even, get hurt every day by these maniacs, and if I can take some of them off of the streets, then maybe it’ll help me sleep at night knowing that there’s less of a chance of you being hurt by someone.”

All the memories of Piper being near the villains flooded his head. She had to go through all of that alone. Henry was nowhere to be found because he was hiding behind a mask instead of being her brother.

“And, Piper, I am so sorry for all the times you were in danger. The balloons, the bugs, Swellview’s Got Talent, all of it. I would never let anything serious happen to you, you know that right?”

Piper had been crying the whole time Henry has been talking. “I know,” she said, wiping more tears from her cheeks. “You’re too stubborn to lose.”

Henry dried his face with his sleeves, and genuinely laughed with his sister.  “Haven’t you seen me get my butt kicked? The news isn’t very kind to us, and there’s plenty more where that came from.”

She giggled at the comment. Then she remembered something. “Hold on a second…”

“What?” He asked. What could possibly be more interesting to a little sister than her brother getting made fun of on the news?

“You had superpowers…”

“Yep. A couple different ones actually.”

“Were they fun?”

“Meh,” he shrugged. 

Super fast reflexes were great, indestructibility was great, but laughing fire was just every kind of awful.

“Well there was the one mistaken for a disease. What was it? Hypo Mobility?”

“Hyper Motility,” he corrected her. 

“Sorry,” she sarcastically apologized. “Still sounds like a disease.”

“Yeah, but it was nice to have, no matter how sickly it sounded. I had to inhale lizard and spider fumes to get it, so that’s cool, I guess.”

“Yuck,” she scrunched up her face with disgust. “But hey, if it gives you superpowers, I guess it’s worth it.”

“Oh yeah, it was,” he sighed, “even if it was only for a short time.”

“Yeah, do you want to talk about what happened with that?”

“Didn’t you hear about it on the news? I thought we did an interview with Trent and Mary” he said, knowing that story had been all over the news that night. 

“A little bit,” she shrugged. “But I asked Henry Hart if he wanted to talk about what happened, not Kid Danger. That guy’s a loser anyways.”

“Hey! I think he’s—” Henry cut himself off when he realized what she was doing. “Oh, right. You know.”

“I sure do.” She smiled.

It made him sad from time to time that Twitler took it away, but his sister had been left in the dark for so long that she deserves it from him. “Okay, but it’s kind of a long story.” 

“I got time,” she shrugged and gave her brother a smile. She really did want to hear the story, but she also wanted to give her brother someone to talk to about all this stuff. And maybe, if he keeps talking now, he’ll talk to her more about stuff in the future.

“So, you know about the computer virus.”

Piper nodded, having learned a little from the interview.

“So we had an antivirus made to kill it, but I couldn’t touch it, since I’m not indestructible, it would take away my powers too—”

“Because the virus was partially made of your powers, so they have the same properties.”

“Bingo,” Henry nodded, sadly.

“But you wear gloves? And you’re pretty much covered everywhere else. How’d it get through them?”

“I had to take the gloves off—“

Piper cut him off again with a sad, drawn out “no!”

“Yeah, the actual virus got on my gloves and if that touched me, my body would’ve been taken over by the virus. So I had to scoop up the antivirus with my bare hands. I mean, I think the entire digital world outweighs super fast reflexes, even if it’s pretty close,” he laughed. 

“Gross. Wait, why didn't you use your mask or something to scoop it up?” She asked. 

“I—” he stopped. Henry closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself down. He dropped his head, and his voice grew softer. “I didn’t think about that.”

He was ready to start crying again. If he had just taken a second to think for once in his life, he could still have one of the best things that ever happened to him.

Piper saw how sad he got when she made the suggestion, and quickly put herself in his position. She felt awful about making himself upset again, considering she has just given him an existential crisis mere moments before. 

She wrapped her arms around his back and started rambling to try to calm down her brother. “Never mind, that would be ridiculous. You’d have to risk exposing yourself to anyone who could see you, never mind if a news helicopter was flying by. That’d never work. Sorry I said that. What you did was entirely the right call.”  She racked her brain for something else to bring up to get his mind off of the previous and heartbreaking topic. “Wait, you said you had a couple superpowers. What was the other one?”

Henry exhaled before talking. “Oh yeah,” he said. “I was indestructible for like two days, a few years ago. But when I laughed I breathed fire, so we had to get rid of that.”

“Dang, boy.”

“Yeah, that was not good. Being indestructible was cool, but definitely not the fire part. There were a couple of times where I did it in front of you guys and you almost saw me.”

Piper thought of all the times she should’ve noticed that her brother was up to something. All the bad lies and excuses, spending way too much time at work, and even when she thought she knew the truth, she would be easily convinced that it was fake. She laughed. “Yeah, I was dumb.”

“You weren’t dumb. You were little. You’ve grown up a lot in the past couple of years.”