#heroxvillian

It’d been eight hours, twenty-seven minutes and forty seconds since the collapse. The hospital waiting room was distinctly unpleasant, the lights far too bright; Villain had only really noticed that on hour seven or so. A child coughed next to them. They withdrew further into themselves, tapping their foot impatiently.

And another thing; someone should’ve noticed by now. All I needed was a cheap pair of sunglasses and a gruff ‘we’re family’ to bypass security. How many times have the two of us made live television, face in full view? How has no one said a word?

A doctor approached down the hallway with a strained expression. Immediately, Villain was up from their seat.

“Are you-”

“Are they alive?”

The doctor startled, clearing his throat and regaining composure. “At the moment. We’ve done everything we can, but they’re not over the hill yet.”

Villain’s chest tightened, guilt pooling in their stomach. “It was… that bad?”

A heavy sigh, weighted with sympathy. “There was massive internal bleeding. To be frank, it’s a wonder their organs functioned long as they did; with the injures they sustained, it should’ve led to collapse hours before the second fight.”

There was a moments pause as the Villain seemed to buffer, processing.

“Second fight?” They managed to withdraw their eyes from the floor, and the Doctor simply nodded, flipping through the files on their clipboard.

“Incident reports from civilians indicate only a single hit happened in this battle, and it was to the face. The black eye corroborates that. It doesn’t explain the shattered ankle or multiple broken ribs, much less the gaping wound on their back. The bleeding has also progressed far too quickly to have occurred just before medics arrived.”

Villain staggered a bit on their feet as emotions hit them like a train. Relief, coupled by grief and an overwhelming, all-consuming rage.

Who. Fucking. Dared.

Fuming, they clenched their fists to hold back the fury that threatened to unleash itself on innocent people. Before they could storm out of the hospital to crush every would-be-threat in the damn city themselves, the doctor once again snapped them from their thoughts.

“They’re comatose right now, but if you’d like to see them, now might be a good time to…” The words trailed off, but the meaning remained. This might be goodbye.

“Take me to them.”

—

Hero looked like hell.

Villain stood at their bedside for a solid minute assessing the damage. Bandages wrapped around their stomach were stained crimson, their breathing labored at best.

“Hey, hero.”

They took a chair conveniently placed just to the side of their unconscious adversary. Words felt hollow. The room almost echoed, despite its size.

“I’m sorry.”

They didn’t shift. Villain fidgeted with their hands.

“I should’ve recognized… sooner. I saw you limping, and I didn’t… I’m sorry.” A shaky exhale.“Whoever fucking did this to you, I’m going to kill them.” Their voice lowered, as if testing. “You hear me? I’ll kill them. You hate it when I kill people, so you better wake up and tell me not to.” Nothing. “Wake up, Hero.” A pleading, whispered request. “Please.”

The beeping of the heartrate monitor steadily reverberated through the air as no other noise remained.

Villain stood, closing the distance between themselves and their counterpart. With a shaking hand, they reached forward and trailed their fingers over the Hero’s face in a featherlight motion, as if dedicating it to memory.

An uncomfortable lump formed in the Villains’ throat.

“I don’t know how to live without you.”

The whispered confession hangs in the air before it’s gone.

The heart-rate monitor almost drowns out silent sobs from Hero’s bedside. Almost.