#scared hero

A Crude Awakening

Read Part One // Master-list // continued from here

***

A snap of fingers and Kit jolted forward. He blinked, head pounding as if it was filled with an expandable wool that pushed against the edges of his skull every time he took a breath. He blinked again, his brain screaming at him to go back asleep, to stop his consciousness from taking over, to lull him back into the nothingness of before. His cracked his eyelids open despite himself, thankful for the shadowy room with its dim lighting… his memory hazy as he tried to remember how he got here. Wherever here was.

He was standing up, he realised, his arms above his head which was a strange way to sleep and wake up he thought, his thoughts heavy like lead. When he tried to pull his arms down, he heard the snap of chains. Warning bells sounded clear in his mind, setting the expandable wool on fire in his brain, setting all his nerves alight with panic as he tugged them down again with a clink, but they didn’t budge. Tingles that came before pins and needles skittered down his arms like a hundred angry insects. He groaned as he tilted his neck back to look up at his hands, squinting at the dim white light that was somehow too bright for his eyes. Heavy duty metal cuffs encased his wrists, attached to a chain that went all the way to the ceiling.

cw. blood, firearms

“Give me the gun, love” 

Someone said, ordered more than asked, yet Hero heard only static, the mouth of the person before them moved, they could see it clearly as that person knelt before them, as their hands were stained with blood and the wet, warm feeling seeped to their own in the kind touch they held, they wanted something, something from Hero, Hero could tell not what it was. 

They were cold, uncontrollably shaking in a bone-deep freeze only missing in their hands, where the warmth of the other’s skin, and the one of the already cooling blood, stopped their tremor. 

Hero was scared, Hero wanted out. 

“You can’t do this, angel. You were never meant to do this,” the person kept talking, now a small tug given along with the soft hold of Hero’s hands “I can do it for you, if you hand me the weapon.” 

But they shouldn’t, they knew they shouldn’t, even when the voice sounded comforting, trustworthy behind all of Hero’s doubt. 

“I can't,” Hero answered with a trembling voice. 

“You have good intentions, but this is not your way,” the voice continued. “I can’t let you stain your hands with this, you won’t be able to live with it.”

Hero shook their head, desperately, erratically almost. The warm hand stopped them, landing tenderly on their cheek. 

“I won’t ask again, I will protect you from this even if you don’t want me to, you will not kill Superhero, you’ve already maimed them enough” Villain confirmed “give me the gun.” 

“They wanted to kill Sidekick, they wanted to kill me,” Hero admitted, a sob breaking at the end of the phrase, never having spoken it out loud before. 

“I know, but you are not them, your hands are clean,” Villain answered, softer than before, looking down at their hold “figuratively.” 

Hero broke a shy huff, almost resembling a laugh. 

“When you get them dirty, you can’t undo it, you can’t step back, it will follow you the rest of your life, angel. Allow me to give you the mercy of never having to know, I won’t let you hurt yourself like this.” 

And, with a falling head, Hero dropped the weapon to the floor, the clanking of the metal filling the room. Final. 

Villain stood up, kissing Hero’s head, and entering Superhero’s office once again.

_

Masterlist

"You don't even want to be here. You're not interested in fighting me, or any other villain, so why do you-"

"If I'm useful," the hero murmured, "I'm safe."

part one part two

tw: manipulation, intense fear, violence

Hero gasped awake from their nightmare, lurching in their bed. Cold sweat coated their skin in a slimy, unpleasant sheen.

They flung their blankets off and ran to the bathroom, keeling over the toilet as the urge to vomit suffocated them.

They closed their eyes.

Breathe. They needed to breathe.

In, out, in, out…

It wasn’t working.

Nausea seized them and they gagged, choking, but nothing came out. Their matted hair fell into their face. If threw up now...ew. Ew ew ew ew...

Their hands were shaking too much to even lift their arms. They were stuck, frozen in place.

Gentle fingers brushed across their head, holding back loose strands as they spat into the toilet. That was nice of—

Wait.

Hero jerked away so hard their back slammed into the wall next to them, hands flying up to their hair.

Villain smirked down at them. “You didn’t like that?”

Hero’s throat closed up. They blindly grabbed the nearest object to them, which was a bottle of hand soap, and threw it at Villain, scrambling back even though there was no where to go.

Villain caught the bottle with ease and inspected it. “Hmm,” they mused. Their eyes flicked back to Hero, who cringed, hands twisting in their shirt.

“Bad dream?” Villain cocked their head.

“G-get…get away!!!“ Hero screamed, tears blurring their vision. “You bastard!!” Their chest heaved up and down violently as they struggled for the oxygen lost to their terror.

“Aw,” Villain pouted mockingly. “The one time I’m actually here, you don’t want me around?”

What?

Hero sank back into the wall, eyes widening. “You…you’re…” They shook their head. “No, nonono you’re not. You’re fucking lying!!”

The figure of Villain from their dream, bloodied and manic, reappeared in their head, and they repressed the scream that was tight in their vocal chords.

“I killed you!!” they cried, voice cracking. “I-I…I stabbed you in the heart!! You’re supposed to be d—,”

In one swift motion, Villain had Hero by the collar, holding them up as if they were a ragdoll.

Hero forgot all bodily functions as Villain stared them down. Oh they were real. They were so fucking real. Not dead. They weren't dead. Why weren't they dead.

Black edged their vision. They were going to faint.

"Ah ah ah," Villain tutted, shaking them up and down. "You're not getting out that easy."

Hero blinked blearily.

Villain used their free hand to grab Hero's wrist and place their palm flat against their chest.

Hero, through their haze of pure fear, vaguely registered the heartbeat under Villain's skin.

Heartbeat. Villain had a heartbeat.

"You feel that?" Villain whispered in their ear. They shifted Hero's hand around, and Hero felt an odd, elevated line against their touch. "That's the scar you gave me."

Hero remembered. The sword. Torn flesh. A scream, then silence.

"How are you...alive?"

Villain's lips split into a grin. "That's a great question." They released Hero's wrist, tapped their nose in a teasing gesture. "Why don't I take you with me, and I'll give you a little insight into how that happened?"

Hero scrabbled at Villain's grip. "N-No..."

"Either that, or you stay here, and I'll keep administering those lovely nightmares and spooky tricks. Maybe I'll even pop-in every now and then in my illusion form to see how you're holding up." Villain's eyes flashed with malicious intent, dark and boiling with an unresolved hatred.

Hero swallowed thickly, tears streaking their cheeks.

Villain cooed at them. "Better make a decision, sweetheart."

Hero, helpless as ever, nodded once.

It felt like they had just made a deal with the devil.

Villain chuckled. "Smart choice." They dropped Hero, only to grab them by the waist and yank them close. "Better hold on.”

Hero could only stifle their sobs, barely registering Villain’s words. Never had they been in such close proximity like this before.

The last thing Hero saw was their own fearful expression in the mirror before everything around them dissipated into smoke, and they were transferred away.

tags for people who wanted:

Hi Anon! Thanks for requesting this. I’ll give it a try!

It had been two days since Villain had found Hero unconscious in the warehouse. They had looked pretty banged up, with rough cuts here and there and bruises littered across their body. Villain had taken them back to their base and patched them up with the best medical attention they could give. They had then taken Hero to their room to recover. Hero was healing considerably well, but there was only one problem.

“Hero,” Villain said, carding a hand through their hair, “you need to wake up, it’s been two days.”

“Any signs of life, boss?” Henchman asked, striding into the room.

“Other than the occasional convulsing?” Villain asked dryly, “No. Nothing. I don’t understand it, I’ve done everything I know to do, they should’ve woken up by now.”

“Maybe whoever they were fighting with drugged ‘em with something,” Henchman offered.

“I ran every test I know, and everything came back negative,” Villain sighed, “they should be making a full recovery.”

Just then, Hero started thrashing again for the third time that day.

“Don’t!” Hero cried.

Villain quickly grabbed Hero by their shoulders to stabilize them.

“Hero, it’s okay,” Villain reassured them, “there’s no one in here but us. You’re safe.”

“Hhng, get off me!” Hero whined, their eyes screwed tightly shut.

“Hero, calm down,” Villain soothed, “it’s okay.”

“D-don’t hurt me,” Hero said feebly.

Villain turned to Henchman.

“Every time I think they’re waking up they just start doing this.” Villain gestured to the squirming Hero.

“Hero,” Villain continued, “You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Hero continued to thrash in the bed for a minute or two before their convulsing finally died down and they slipped back into a peaceful slumber. Villain sighed and pinched the bridge of their nose.

“It’s like they’re still there in that warehouse,” Villain said.

Henchman opened their mouth as if to say something, then closed it.

“Can you bring me another blanket?” Villain asked, “the temperature’s supposed to go down tonight, I don’t want them getting cold.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Henchman turned and closed the door behind them. Villain turned back to Hero, who was starting to twitch slightly. Villain started running their hand through their hair again, and the twitching gradually stopped.

“I’m gonna fix this, Hero,” Villain said softly, “I promise.”

Suddenly, there was a loud bang from the other end of Villain’s base. Hero bolted upright in bed, eyes wild with fear. Henchman threw the door open, blanket in hand, along with a gun.

“The door to the linen closet was locked,” Henchman said, “I didn’t feel like looking for the key.”

Hero looked to Villain, then to Henchman, then to the gun. Hero held their arms in front of their face and shut their eyes.

“So your response to that was to shoot the lock off with a gun!?” Villain roared, “you’ve scared them half to death!”

Henchman looked over to Hero, who was still cowering in the bed.

“Hey, but it woke ‘em up, didn’t it?” Henchman grinned.

“Hero,” Villain said gently, “are you okay?”

“W-where am I?” Hero stuttered, “am I dead or something?”

“No, Hero, you’re at my base.” Villain ran a hand up and down Hero’s back, “I rescued you. You’re safe.”

“R-rescued me?” Hero asked, “from what?”

“I was hoping you could tell me that,” Villain replied.

Hero’s eyes darted wildly around the room, they were shaking, and they couldn’t seem to get their words out.

“In a little while.” Villain added, “You don’t have to try to remember right now. Can you look at me?”

Hero stopped frantically scanning the room; they turned to look at Villain, their eyes wide as saucers.

“That’s better,” Villain said, “can you take a few deep breaths for me?”

Villain walked Hero through a breathing exercise. Hero seemed a bit more calm than before. Villain took Hero’s hand and rubbed circles into it.

“There,” Villain said, “feel better?”

Hero nodded slowly.

“Good.” Villain said, “I’m going to leave for now, but I’ll be back to check on you in a little bit. Don’t try to get up yet, okay?”

Villain left the room with Henchman right behind them. Villain closed the door with a soft click.

“They’re awake, now what?” Henchman asked.

“Now we wait for Hero to remember who did this to them.” Villain replied.

“And then?” Henchman asked.

“Eeerr.. Th-the Joker?” the hero replied reluctantly.

The magician’s maniacal laugh echoed throughout the stage.

“What?!” the hero spat, more agitatedly than angrily.

“Oh, darling.” the villain purred, “We’re going to have soooo much fun.” they said, their face darkening, narrowed eyes flickered wicked with malice. They flushed their trademark devilish grin.

The hero’s face went aghast. They knew that smile way too well.

Alex swallowed hard, watching as their sidekick parked their car and walked them into the building. The receptionist greeted them immediately, an awestruck look on her face that made the hero want to throw up. Their sidekick, Cory, stopped to talk to her, leaving Alex with no choice but to go ahead to the room she had directed them to. They sat down with a sigh, reclining back and staring up at the ceiling. 

“Are you nervous, Alex?” the nurse asked as she walked in. Alex shook their head, gritting their teeth and clenching their fists. If the nurse noticed these obvious signs of anxiety, she didn’t say anything. She continued to make small talk, despite the one-word answers that Alex deigned to give. They had to admit, she was very persistent. 

The nurse’s small talk did serve as a distraction from their nerves, though. Alex listened as she spoke of her twin sons and their shenanigans, letting the uneasy feeling in their chest dwindle and diminish into nothing. 

“Ready to go?” a familiar voice sounded from just outside the doorway. Alex’s heart raced in their chest, the ever familiar feeling of trepidation coursing through them once more. The hero’s hands shook at their sides, and they felt extremely restless. They pushed down the gut feeling that something was horribly wrong and tried to relax as the surgeon strolled in.

Of course, the moment their surgeon’s face entered their view, Alex’s heart sank right back to their stomach.  Their archenemy, the villain, loomed over them. They screamed, nearly crashing into the attendants standing at the side of their bed. The nurse, startled by the sudden outburst, followed their gaze to the surgeon, the villain. He had the audacity to shrug, as if Alex’s fear was entirely unfounded. They took a shuddering breath and flattened themselves against the uncomfortable chair, 

Before they could notice, the IV was inserted into their arm. Alex hissed, more in surprise than pain, and shakily moved their free arm to try and rip it out. They couldn't do this, they were going to die, no, no, no-

“Hold them down,” their enemy said, their voice somehow clear over the static in the hero’s ears. Alex whimpered as strong hands grabbed at their arms, preventing them from flailing about. Their vision started to blur, and they felt their breaths start to pick up. Suddenly, the room felt incredibly crowded. The hero felt like they were in a sci-fi movie, with the way the surgeon’s assistants were staring down at them. They gulped and tried to relax, despite the fear gnawing at their stomach. The last thing Alex saw before succumbing to unconsciousness was their enemy standing over them, a sharp tool in his hand. 

Alex swore they had just closed their eyes when they found themselves waking up again. They stumbled through the halls and back to their sidekick, with the help of the polite nurse and a strong hand on the small of their back that felt strangely familiar. The hero didn’t quite remember much about their rather difficult trip out of the office and back to the car, but they did remember the way Cory’s eyes widened as they were helped back to the waiting room. The grip on their back fell away and Alex grabbed at Cory’s wrist in an attempt to keep their balance. Their sidekick slipped out of whatever stupor they were in and helped them to the car. One needlessly long car ride later and they were finally back in the safety of their own apartment. 

Alex spent the next few hours fading in and out of consciousness. Whenever they woke, Cory would offer them a few sips of water and ask them a few questions about their pain. Eventually, they made it to the point where they could stomach some soup, and Cory prepared some for them before guiding them to sit down at the table.

“That went well,” Cory remarked amicably. They were very relaxed as they sat at the table, their legs sprawled. Alex immediately felt suspicious, noticing the mischievous smirk blooming on their sidekick’s face. 

“What did I do?” Alex asked, not sure if they even wanted to know. Cory didn’t answer, a grimace on their face and a strange look in their eyes. Alex’s heart raced. “Cory, what did I do?”

Cory held a hand over their mouth, clearly trying not to laugh. They took a deep breath and looked at them. A small chuckle slipped out before they began to explain.“You threatened the villain- the surgeon, I mean.”

“Oh, that’s not so bad,” the hero shrugged, thinking back to their enemy looming over them, sharp tool in hand. He kind of deserved it. Alex said as much to Cory, whom showed their agreement with a slight incline of the head. The smug smirk on their face still hadn’t faded, and Alex began to realize that threatening their enemy wasn’t the worst of it. 

“You called him pretty boy as you were about to punch him, I think,” Cory chuckled, an amused smile on their face. Alex’s groans resounded throughout their apartment.