Secret Santa Snippet 2022!
This is a gift for @snowshowerwriting, an awesome friend and writer! I’m glad I got your prompt this year, and since this is my first time posting writing on tumblr I’m pretty excited to see how it turns out. Hope you enjoy!
content warning; implied depression, injury, reference and mild descriptions of nerve damage (hands) (i swear this is hurt/comfort we just have to get past the hurt)
Surely three weeks was enough time for Hero to recover after their last fight - wasn’t it? Villain couldn’t say they knew much about medical stuff aside from how to patch themselves up after a scuffle, but they assumed Hero would’ve at least made an appearance by now. Although, their hands did look pretty messed up after being crushed under falling debris... Falling debris that Villain had knocked loose, and that Hero had pushed Villain away from at the risk of his own life. Uncomfortably guilty about the whole situation, Villain had even held off on any major crimes while they waited for their nemesis to heal. Now, though, as they stood outside the recently robbed bank, there was no sign that Hero was coming to stop them.
“Seriously?” Villain shouted at nobody in particular, causing the crowds of terrified onlookers to flinch back. “Is no one even gonna try and stop me? Do I just get to take all this money without a fight?”
“Sorry I’m late,” said a voice from behind Villain, and they turned to see Other Hero, one of Hero’s colleagues, nimbly leap to the ground. She twirled an elegant blade between her fingers.
“What are you doing here?” Villain asked, raising an eyebrow. Normally Other Hero was busy breaking up gang fights or busting shady underground markets, not dealing with high profile criminals. “Where’s Hero?”
“You didn’t hear?” Other Hero snorted, stalking closer. “Boss says we can’t have traitors on our team - Hero almost died to save you, so… y’know. We had to kick him off the squad. I guess you’re happy about that, considering you’ve got one less threat to deal with. Not like he’d be useful to us now anyway, not with those fucked up hands.”
“Shit,” Villain whispered, dropping the bag of money in their hands. Wasn’t that what they’d always wanted? To have their nemesis out of the way? No… not like this. Villain was supposed to take over and sit on a throne while everyone kneeled at his feet, not shove the only tolerable hero on the force to the sidelines. Before they had any more time to think, Other Hero advanced. They dodged her strike and jumped back, summoning a swirl of icicles in their hand. Incensed by his own folly and Other Hero’s sadistic smirk alike, they struck.
The thing is, Villain had discovered Hero’s civilian identity a while ago. It was purely by accident, after they’d recognised him entering his apartment while on a little looting spree a while back. They hadn’t felt the need to bring it up, nor did they feel like playing dirty. If it were any other hero, Villain probably wouldnt hesitate - but they wanted a fair fight with Hero. They wanted to share an adrenaline rush with him as they both stood on even ground, powers crashing together in terrific bursts of energy.
Now, though, as Villain slipped through the window in the late afternoon, they couldn’t care less about keeping their discovery a secret. They had to see Hero - he would certainly be down in the dumps after losing his job and suffering what was without doubt a painful injury.
“What are you doing here?” Hero’s voice asked from the dark, and Villain cursed themselves for not checking if Hero was in his bedroom before using it to sneak in. “You need to go, I- we can’t fight anymore. I don’t work for them.” As he spoke, Villain realised just how hoarse and shaky Hero’s voice sounded. He turned on the lamp and looked at Villain with tired, searching eyes.
“I’m not here to fight,” Villain said quietly, “I came to apologise. You know, about your job. That was really my fault.”
“Oh,” Hero replied, glancing away. He got out from under the covers and trudged across the room, motioning for Villain to follow. “I’m not all that hung up on the job.” As he walked, his clenched fists were shaking violently. Was he angry? No, wait - Other Hero had mentioned his ‘fucked up hands,’ maybe they were jittery from the injury. That seemed to be the case when Hero reached up to flick on the light, fumbling with the switch for a few moments. He crossed the living room, Villain following cautiously behind.
If they were in Hero’s apartment under any normal circumstances, they’d probably be teasing them to hell and back about how it was small and messy - more like cute and cozy, but they wouldn’t admit that - but today they fought the urge. Something was very wrong.
“Here,” Hero said flatly, sitting on a black stool in front of an elegant upright piano. It was probably the most expensive thing in the room. “Between fights, after a bad day, when I was overwhelmed… I played. I’ve been taking lessons for ten years now, and I bought this piano after saving up for ages.” His face brightened a little as he spoke, and Villain felt their chest buzz with warmth until Hero looked at them, eyes wet and hands trembling as he gripped the piano lid.
“I can’t do it anymore,” he whispered, a shake in his voice, and Villain’s heart sank. “I don’t care about my job, I- I’m not even mad at you, and I don’t re- regret saving you, not for a moment!” He stood up, clasping his hands together, desperately trying to still them. “But I… I can’t do this. I can’t write, or type without having to redo every word a dozen times, and I can’t play anymore. I can’t distract myself from the fucking mess my life is right now.”
Wordlessly, guilt swelling in their chest, Villain moved to sit on the stool beside him and opened up the piano.
“I don’t remember much,” they said softly, “But I used to play a little too.” They guided Hero to place his unsteady hands on the keys and rested their own on top. Buried deep in Villain’s muscle memory was a classical piece they’d learned years ago, back when life was simpler and they didn’t have to fight and steal to survive. Back when they didn’t have ‘allies’ and ‘enemies’, when they didn’t have to pretend the one person they looked forward to seeing each day was their nemesis in a bitter rivalry.
Pushing those yearning thoughts away, they looked at Hero for permission. He nodded, still looking at the keys, and Villain tried to remember the piece. The muscle memory was still with them, and for that they were thankful, but they’d never exactly had to play it with an extra pair of hands under their own. Though the sweet melody occasionally peeked through, the song was mostly a jumble of wrong notes and fumbled chords. Villain tensed, worried that their attempts to be cute and comforting had only made things worse. To their surprise, though, Hero turned his hands over and laced them with Villain’s, which put them in what was without a doubt an awkward position, but Villain felt a pleasant flutter in their stomach.
“That was awful,” Hero remarked, but he was smiling. Smiling, so softly and knowingly in a way only he could. “But it… it helped, I think.” Villain averted their eyes as if it’d help hide the embarrassingly obvious blush on their face. As they looked across the room, it dawned on them just how cluttered and dark the apartment really was.
“Have you been sitting alone in your apartment all this time?” they asked, and Hero’s smile dropped a little.
“I don’t have anyone to visit, much less anyone who’ll visit me,” he replied, and now it was his turn to sheepishly glance away. “Not since the team labeled me a traitor.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Villain said. At Hero’s hesitant nod, they continued, “And, since you’re already apparently a traitor to those ‘heroes,’ it’s not like we have to pretend to hate each other anymore.” They offered a mischievous grin, which Hero weakly returned.
“Would you mind, then, um… would you mind sticking around for a while?” He asked before Villain could make the offer. All they could do was nod, slowly untangling their hands and putting an arm around Hero’s shoulders. He rested his head in the crook of Villain’s neck and let out a slow sigh, hands shaking again as he placed them in his lap.
“Thank you for saving me back there, by the way. I-I’m sorry you got hurt in the process. I wish I could go back and… Hell, maybe I’d stop you from doing it.” Villain whispered, anxious and guilty at the thought but elated by their close contact in equal measure. Hero simply shifted in a little closer, and Villain could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.
“Nothing could stop me from keeping you safe. Not even you.”
