#dc midnighter

He is still a violent man without his enhancements.

He should’ve known there was a bomb in the bank. He should’ve known the boy wasn’t safe just because he was in the lobby. He should’ve taken him somewhere else, outside gunfire be damned.

There were a lot more bodies to pack up, but they were the bodies of murderers. Men who didn’t care if a child was collateral so long as they got their easy payday. Midnighter had all but threatened the cops to take care of the boy first.

He should be relieved it was just one casualty, considering how many people were in the bank when the gang robbery started. But one casualty was too high, especially when it was someone so small.

“Benji!”

It was a woman outside the bank, her sudden wail telling Midnighter everything he needed to know; the boy had been identified.

He knelt beside the body bag, eyeing it critically. No blood on it. He nodded to himself and got up, clutching the doll as he walked out of the bank.

“Benji!” The woman was still yelling the name over and over as an officer held her back, trying to comfort her. 

“Please, our son,” a man with her was saying to the officer, his eyes wide and terrified. “He was with my sister. She was taken to the hospital after the explosion. She doesn’t know where he is.”

Midnighter stepped up to them. As soon as the man’s eyes landed on the doll in Midnighter’s hands, he dropped to his knees, put his face in his hands, and sobbed.

“Oh,” the woman whispered, reaching shakily for the doll. “Oh, no. No. Benji. My baby.”

Midnighter passed her the doll. He didn’t apologize for failing; it would only make the pain worse. 

“I made sure they took good care of him,” he said instead, his voice serious. 

She held the doll to her chest, reaching out to grip the sobbing man’s shoulder. She nodded mechanically, her eyes glazing over.

He left the couple, yanking his mask off. He didn’t deserve to walk around like some hero. He wasn’t Superman. If he was, the child would probably still be alive. 

He felt a gust of air and a sudden warmth at his side. Apollo took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m ready to listen,” he said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

He’d been taking care of another emergency. It was Midnighter’s responsibility to take care of the people in the bank. His failure, and his alone.

“I want to be away from here,” Midnighter said numbly.

Apollo caught him under the arms and lifted him into the air. The wind whipped Midnighter’s face and he closed his eyes, letting the wind roar in his ears as Apollo picked up speed.