The room kept spinning as Supervillain tried looking up, the lights too bright, colours too muted. A light shifted, their eyes springing with tears that they tried to blink through. Someone shifted, a body near them, their heat startling against the cold.

“Maybe I gave you too much,” a voice muttered. The light shifted further, got closer. Supervillain recoiled.

“Wh-” their tongue was cotton, thick and tangled. They flinched, head lolling to the side, but a hand caught their skin.

“You don’t recognise me, do you?”

Supervillain still couldn’t see let alone recognise an asshole with a torch. They tried saying as much but all that tumbled out were half baked consonants.

The light vanished and so did the body, a whisp of a sigh falling from Supervillain’s lips. They weren’t sure where the fucker went but they took the time to breath, sucking in slow and measured breaths that filled their body.

Water poured over them, icy and biting and the slow measured breath turned into a gasp, followed by splashes of liquid that caught in Supervillain’s throat. They coughed, the thing shaking through their whole body as it quickly turned into a fit.

The hand came back, another rubbing their shoulder as the fit eased. Supervillain coughed up the last of the water, blinking into clearer vision.

A person stepped in front of them, smiling.

“Is that better?” They said. “Head a little clearer?”

“Le-”

“Ah,” they said, hand snaking out, pressing against Supervillain’s mouth. “I want you to recognise me first. I want you to remember.”

Supervillain stared into their face, their eyes. Nothing. Just another person for them to use, another person for them to control like everyone else. Something in the back of their mind shifted. Their eyes were pretty they guess, had they dated them? Rejected them? Were they about to be bested by a miffed ex?

You’re cute.

The memory came back all at once.

Too bad you’re in my way.

Supervillain’s eyes widened, but not nearly as much as Villain’s grin.

“Surprise.”

Villain stepped back, removing their hand but Supervillain was too shocked to speak.

“Wow,” Villain breathed. “You really thought you’d never see me again. That you could just lock me up and throw away the key.”

Supervillain truly had. Why wouldn’t they? It had never happened before, was supposed to never happen at all. Villain was barely recognisable now, worn, their body tired but eyes glistening with a mad delight.

“How?” It was the only think Supervillain could think, the only thing that mattered.

Villain delighted in the question, picking at the long sleeve of their shirt before beginning to roll it up.

“It took a lot of time,” they said, the scars on their arm slowly revealing. “A lot of experimentations and even more mistakes.” They rolled the sleeve up above their elbow, began on the other. “Do you know how hard it is to experiment on yourself? To cut into your own bone marrow?”

“Impossible,” Supervillain said.

“It should be, yes,” Villain nodded finishing the other sleeve. “But when you have time and immortality on your side you can get very creative.”

Supervillain just stared.

“Its understandable, why you were so cocky. Why you thought you could win,” Villain said, now pacing around Supervillain. “You have this power at your fingertips, one so strong and seemingly so reliable. You had no reason to think it would fail. No one can fault you on that.”

Villain stood somewhere behind Supervillain and it made the hairs on the back of their neck stand on end. A shiver ran through them and suddenly a true sense of danger sunk into their gut.

“Let me go,” Supervillain demanded, strong and powerful.

Nothing. Supervillain’s ears rung as they waited, skin itched ready for the ropes to come undone.

Villain laughed, a mad and joyous thing.

“I wasn’t entirely certain it would work,” they beamed, walking back to the front. “Sure, I could break your old demand, but would my alterations hold up to new ones? Could I disobey you?” Villain grinned ear to ear like a giddy child. “Oh I have waited so, so long for this day, to see that look in your eyes. Does it make you feel helpless? Feel weak?”

“Let me go,” Supervillain said again, firmer, pushing more intent into their words. Nothing.

Villain cackled.

“How did you enjoy the spotlight hey? The title world’s most dangerous villain?”

“Let me go.” Supervillain yelled, chest tightening.

Villain was on them, hands pressed against their wrist, face millimetres away.

“Oh but sweetie I am having so much fun. You had the arrogance to think you could take my spotlight, but now it’s my turn, and I am hungry for that light on my face.”

“This is impossible.”

“It was inevitable,” Villain stepped back. They wondered across the room, somewhere behind Supervillain.  

“Even if I can’t control you,” Supervillain said, “I still control everyone else. You won’t be able to move in this world without me knowing about it.”

Villain hummed, “oh you will know about every move I make, right up to your last breath.”

Supervillain tugged against their restraints.

Villain came back around with a needle in their hand, and without a word they grabbed Supervillain’s bicep, steadying the arm as they slipped it into the vein, precise and practiced.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m solving the problem you presented,” Villain said.

Villain carefully drew the blood, Supervillain watched it spill into the vial, head getting light. Villain filled four vials before removing the needle, not gentle in the slightest.

Supervillain arched themself, straining their neck as much as possible to see where Villain went, and as they did, they caught a glimpse of the entire room behind them. They were in a laboratory, Supervillain positioned over near a wall, everything around them pushed back.

Villain came back, still behind them though, something else in their hand.

“What is this?” Supervillain said.

Villain looked back around the room.

“Don’t you recognise it?”

Supervillain didn’t.

“This is the hole you tried to bury me in.”

Some sharp went into Supervillain’s back and the pain was blinding.

“Hold still,” Villain said, “I don’t want to damage anything.”

Supervillain did, only because every move brought more agony. Their nails dug into the chair, teeth about to shatter as they felt something move about, before being withdrawn. Supervillain gasped, choked on their spit.

“You’re doing so good,” Villain purred.

“They will come find me,” Supervillain growled. “And when they do, I will cut you up into tiny pieces and-”

Villain snatched their hair and wrenched their head back.

“No one is coming. No one cares about you,” Villain hissed. “That’s the thing about your power, no one is loyal to you, and because of your arrogance you had no safety measures in places. No one will come for you because they are all too busy carrying out your demands and will continue to do so until you issue new ones.”

Supervillain stared, the words sitting heavy on their chest, sinking deep into their stomach. There had to at least be someone, right? They hadn’t controlled everyone…

They had, they truly had. Everyone who worked under them, every enemy who encountered them, they were all under Supervillain’s control. Supervillain never gave anyone the chance to come in willingly, they didn’t need to. It was why they were the world’s most feared villain.

“You have come so far, and yet you’re still so ignorant, a baby in this world.” Villain tapped Supervillain’s cheek, letting go of their hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you what a real villain is.”

They came back around the front.

“I have plenty of hobbies, you just happen to be one of them.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about being someone’s hobby,” Hero said.

Hero leant against the wall behind them, cold brick pressing into their aching muscles. It had been a long day, and this was a welcome break.

“I promise you,” Villain drawled, “I mean it as a compliment.” They moved to Hero’s side, leaning on the wall beside them, hands tucked into their pockets as they looked up at the starless sky. Hero looked up with them, because if they didn’t, they would have looked at them and that would betray too much. When was the last time they’d even seen the stars? The last time they’d been out of this polluted city?

“So, what’s the excuse today? Are you gonna try and convince me to join your side? Give in to my inner darkness?”

The Villain laughed. Hero hadn’t heard them laugh before, not like this at least. They’d heard their cruel laugh, the laugh that bubbles out in interrogations and negotiations, though that word is used very loosely. But this laugh was different, more melodic, happy.

“While all that sounds grand, I was actually thinking of something simpler,” Villain said.

Hero frowned, and when they said nothing, Villain continued.

“Well, I was thinking, since we’ve been getting along so well lately.”

Hero snorted but didn’t argue.

“I was wondering if you’d do me the pleasure of going to dinner with me.”

Hero felt many things at once and it was an absolute tidal wave in their chest. They hadn’t expected that sort of request. Sure, Villain was attractive and definitely not as bad as Hero’s bosses had made them out to be, but they weren’t sure dinner was even close to a good idea. Or something they wanted. Yes, they had come to enjoy the Villain’s interruptions to Hero’s daily life. They’d come to look forward to when Villain pop in and whisk them away for a few hours, usually spending the time ranting and vaguely interrogating them. But dinner?

Never mind the fact that dinner, even if a seemingly simple thing to Villain, was far from it for Hero.

Amongst the chaos in their mind Hero managed out a laugh, pushing themself off the wall.

“Dinner? With you?”

“You make it sound like you don’t want to,” Villain smirked, stepping away with them. They moved closer, and Hero took a step back but only found the other side of the suddenly too small alleyway. “Come on you know I’m not an idiot,” Villain said. “I, more than anyone, know what you really think,” they said.

They were so close now Hero could barely breath or else breath in their warm and intoxicating scent. It took them a long time to realise that wasn’t one of Villain’s many tricks. That it was something real, something they wanted to be closer to.

“I don’t,” Hero tried, but their voice didn’t convince anyone.

Villain cocked a brow, reached forward and gently picked up their wrist. Hero wanted to wrench it away, keep Villain from touching them, but that in itself would be an admission of the lie.

“Say that again,” Villain said, their fingers soft and warm against Hero’s skin.

Hero rolled their eyes. “You know I don’t need to.”

“Then why did you lie?”

Hero took in a breath, looked down at Villain’s hand on their wrist. This was one of Villain’s tricks. To be able to know truth from lie with a single touch.

“It doesn’t matter,” Hero tried.

They tried to push past Villain, end this all now before despair could come crashing down on them, but Villain stopped them, gripping their wrist a little tighter, palm on their chest to hold them back against the wall. Hero could have broken free, easily. They didn’t.  

Villain looked to them, the mischievous glint in their eye fading, their brows knitting together as they took in whatever information the lie brought them.

“What’s wrong?” They asked.

If Hero said nothing that would just bring more light to the issue and if they said the truth... well, they don’t want to do that. They don’t want that face to hold pity. It’s the only one that cared that didn’t.

“We won’t work,” Hero said. “We’re on separate sides and if either side finds out we’re doomed.”

That frown continued as Villain studied Hero.

“That’s not what you care about though.” Villain said. “At least not all. Besides my side won’t give two shits. It’s kind of our thing to do whatever we want.”

Hero said nothing.

Villain’s grip softened again, moved a little further up Hero’s arm. “You can talk to me you know. I’m not going to judge you like they do.”

Hero knew that. It brought them sense of pride in fact. Hero was the only person in the world it seemed that Villain was soft with. Was caring and even thoughtful. They don’t even know how it had happened, when it had started. Hero had certainly experienced Villain’s darker side, but at some point, it stopped, it shifted and neither two could stand hurting the other.

“It’s not like you need me to tell you right?” Hero said, meeting their eyes. “You can just find out for yourself.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Villain said. “Unless, of course, you want me to.”

Hero took in another breath, struggling to breathe for a different reason now.

“It feels stupid to say aloud,” they said.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Villain said, “just don’t lie to me about how you really feel.”

Hero swallowed the lump in their throat, dropped their gaze.

“Sorry.”

Villain reached up and cupped their face, turning Hero’s gaze to them.

“But, if it has something to do with the other heroes, if they try and hurt you in anyway I will burn everything to the ground.”

Hero didn’t need to have Villain’s powers to know that was the truth. It brought tears to their eyes. They tried to fight them, blink them back, but their vision blurred, and the words fell out of their mouth without their control. A quiet whisper.

“And what if they already have?”

When the tear fell, and Hero could see again there was fury in Villain’s eyes. And regret filled Hero’s chest, sharp and tight.

“What did they do?” Their voice was strained.

Hero shook their head, pushing Villain’s hands away as they wiped away their tears.

“It doesn’t matter, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Of course, it matters. Hero, are they hurting you?”

Hero pushed past them tried heading towards the exit of the alleyway. Villain grabbed their arm, but Hero didn’t let them keep it, spinning around and pulling their hand back.

“Just drop it. Its best for everyone if you do. Look, you’re right, ok? I like you, I really do, but this can’t work out. I’m... my life isn’t the life you think it is and it just won’t work, ok? We can’t even be friends.”

“Hero stop,” Villain said chasing after them.

“Just leave me alone.”

“I’m not letting you go back there if they’re hurting you,” Villain said.

They were out of the alleyway now, about to turn left down the street, but Villain quickly moved in front of them again.

“Stop,” they demanded.

Hero’s jaw tightened, but they paused.

“Why would you go back to them if they’re hurting you?” They asked.

Hero shook their head. “They aren’t hurting me, I didn’t mean to say that.” A weak lie, pathetic. Villain didn’t need to use their power to see through it.

“Don’t lie to me,” Villain said.

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

There was anger laced in Villains voice, a deadly tone that, while Hero knew wasn’t aimed towards them, made them shiver. They just shook their head again.

“It’s not what you think, not exactly. Look I can’t leave, even if I wanted to and that’s as much as I’m going to tell you.”

Hero pushed passed Villain again.

“I’m sorry about this,” Villain said.

They grabbed Hero again, but this time before Hero could free themself a blinding pain shot through their head. After that everything went black.

~

It was clear that they weren’t willingly working for the Heroes, just brought in for the powers, probably having made some sort of deal. It was interesting to say the least, Supervillain was enraptured by the mystery, wanted more then anything to know more.

In the quiet of the cell Supervillain’s ears rung. The worst part is that no one had even come to see them yet, not to boast or to mock or even interrogate them. It had been a day, at the least, and other then a slot that opened in the wall to deliver them food, literally nothing had happened. It was disappointing actually.

The ringing in their ears  was growing louder, more rhythmic. Supervillain frowned, stood from the uncomfortable cot and walked towards the glass door. Somewhere far above them, an alarm blared.

A quiet woosh made Supervillain turn and their brows raised as they watched Villain appear out of thin air, little whisps of darkness dissipating around them as they turned and vomited into the corner of the room.

Supervillain’s eyes fell to the thick electronic collar around their neck that was flashing with red lights, then after a moment faded.

Villain turned to them, wiped their mouth.

“I don’t have much time,” they said.

“Enough time to tell me why you just threw up in my cell? I have to sit with that smell you know.”

There was no patience in Villain’s expression.

“I will get you out of here, but I need your help if I do.”

“What kind of help?”

Villain’s cane moved so fast and with so much force it startled Supervillain as it hit their chest, pushing them against the glass wall.

“I will give you your freedom back, but first you have to promise to help me, or I will leave you here to die with the heroes.”

Supervillain raised their brows, eyes searching the desperation in Villain’s face that they failed to hide. Supervillain smirked.

“Is that right? It seems like leaving me here might hurt you more then me.” They said.

“They are on their way here right now, if you don’t agree you won’t get another chance.”

Supervillain didn’t falter. “It’s a good lie, anyone else would believe you.”

Villain grit their teeth, head suddenly darting to the side staring at the cement wall, watching something. They looked back to Supervillain. Villain took in a breath.

“Please, I need your help, but I need your guarantee that once this is all over, we are done.”

That made Supervillain grin. “Is that the part of the deal Superhero went back on? Did they enjoy your usefulness too much.”

Villain swallowed, “yes, and they have something very important to me that I need help getting back.”

They glanced again, urgency increasing.

“Make the deal,” Villain growled.

Supervillain just smiled.

“Fuck,” Villain cursed, retracting the cane and grabbing Supervillain.

They both vanished.

And appeared in a much different hallway, much more like one you’d find in an office building. Villain collapsed, using their cane to prop themself up as the collar lit up again.

Supervillain looked up from them, just in time to meet a pair of eyes as they rounded the corner. The hero just about shit themself when they came face to face with Supervillain, turning on their heel, but Supervillain was on them before they could even make a step.

Villain composed themself, pushing themself up shakily as they watch a body fall away from Supervillain. Fuck. Supervillain turned back to them.

“Feeling better?”

“Are you going to help me or what?” Villain stood fully, face pale and sweaty, but at least standing.

“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t repay the kindness paid to me?”

Villain’s jaw set. “This is why I hate people like you, why I left.”

Villain started down the hallway, the way the Hero now lay, and Supervillain followed.

“You sound like a very interesting person, why don’t I know who you are?”

Further down the hallway a group of armed Heroes stepped out of an elevator, pointed down at Villain and Superhero.

“It’s a mystery,” Villain said.

The pair and the group crashed together, Villain swinging the handle of their cane into someone’s face and then swung around, cracked into some ribs, swung down to take out some legs. They moved in a fluid movement of grace and power.

Supervillain in contrast was pure brute force, like a hammer through glass ploughing through the crowd. The pair made it to the other side leaving a pile of bodies behind them.

“You’re pretty good,” Supervillain smiled at them, “and this is without your powers?”

“Shut up,” Villain said and kept walking. “It’s not like you’ve had to use your powers yet.”

“Mm, true but I’m me.”

Villain rolled their eyes. They kept moving, Villain leading the way, moving quickly and quietly. They stopped at one point, made Supervillain crouch down before Supervillain was even aware of what it was they were hiding from. But then footsteps reached their ears, and when they looked down at Villain they could see Villain tracking something, their eyes following a path Supervillain couldn’t see. Interesting.

Villain stood back up without hesitation and Supervillain had to move quickly to keep up. Villain didn’t even glance around the next corner before walking out and stopping by a door.

“Kick this down,” they said.

“No please?”

“Kick it down before they come back.”

Supervillain sighed, “so rude,” they took a step forward and with one movement kicked the door off its hinges.

Villain moved in, not even looking around, and bee lined for one cabinet.

Supervillain on the other hand, gaped. One wall of the room was filled with computers screens, a desk at the bottom of it littered with papers and keyboards, the other side lined with shelves and cabinets holding various devices that Supervillain quickly lost interest in. They stared at the screens, pictures of people, footage following them. One screen in particular caught their eye, a newly familiar face projected onto it, a profile beside it.

The screen turned off.

Supervillain turned to Villain who was now beside them.

“We don’t have time for that,” Villain said.

They turned and went back to the cabinet they were working on.

“What is all this?” Supervillain asked.

Villain didn’t say anything, fiddling with a lock on the front of the cabinet. Supervillain sighed and stepped forward, grabbing the lock and snapping it off. Villain stared at it, then without another word opened the cabinet and started rummaging through it.

“Really? No, thank you?”

No response.

Supervillain wondered back to the other side of the room to the remaining computer screens. Clearly people being tracked, which Supervillain was aware the heroes were in the habit of, but not to this extreme. People without even an ounce of criminal history being monitored, threat levels being associated to. What was Superhero doing here? Why did they care about everyday civilians?

“Fuck’s sake,” Villain growled, slamming the cabinet closed.

“Not finding what you’re looking for?”

Villain glared at him, “I-” their eyes widen and before Supervillain can even comprehend the movement they vanish before their eyes. Villain’s presence appears beside Supervillain, and they grab them. Even with Villain’s speed they weren’t fast enough, the explosion tearing through the room.  

They both went flying, crashing into the opposing wall, dust and rubble thrown everywhere. Supervillain recovered first, grabbing Villain and picking them up like a ragdoll. They moved through the dust, light beaming through as heroes poured into the room. Supervillain grabbed the nearest one, pulling them into a headbutt that shattered the hero’s nose. The room shifted suddenly, and Supervillain stumbled as they appeared in another room, hero still in their grip, barely conscious.

Supervillain pushed them to the side, looked down at Villain as they vomited blood.

“You really need to stop doing that,” Supervillain said, letting them down. “That can’t be good for your health. How are you even overriding it?”

Villain spat blood from their mouth but said nothing.

“Where are we now?” Supervillain asked looking around.

Villain looked around, unsure at first, “this way.” They struggled to their feet and started in a direction. Supervillain eyed them.

“I am very close to loosing my tolerance of being in the dark,” Supervillain said, following after them.

Villain staggered down a hallway, stopped at the sight of more heroes. Supervillain took care of them, and they kept moving.

“We’re almost there,” Villain said.

Supervillain looked at them, their face progressively getting paler, the sweat sitting on their brow. They didn’t look good.

“Where is there?”

Villain just kept moving but Supervillain grabbed their arm, pulled them back. Villain’s vision swam and they leant back against the wall.

“Ok that’s the end of my patience. Tell me now or I leave you here and break out of here myself.”

“We don’t have time for you to get a whole debrief,” they ground.

“Well make time, where are we going?”

Villain opened their mouth.

“My office.”

Both their heads whipped around to see Superhero standing at the end of the hallway.

Supervillain let Villain go.

“So, this is why you needed me,” Supervillain said. Their attention turned to Superhero. “I didn’t expect you to be here,” they said, “thought this would be a bit below you.”

“Oh no, I have all the time in the world for you,” Superhero’s eyes drifted to Villain. “And you. How are you feeling there Villain, you don’t look so good.”

Panting, Villain raised their middle finger.

“Tsk, so disrespectful. You see what I am working with here?” they shook their head, “I try to be kind, and this is what I get.”

“Where are they,” Villain snarled.

Superhero nodded to the left. “They are down that hallway, but you already know that. You also know that there are three guards and myself, so I am assuming your plan is to send Supervillain here after me, use what limited power you have to get to them and risk killing yourself to get them out. Does that sound about right?”

Villain’s jaw tightened.

“I thought as much,” Superhero said. “How about-”

“How about you shut the fuck up,” Villain growled, “I am not making any deals and I am not listening to another word out of your mouth.”

“Mm, that may be an issue. Because I think you want to know what I have to say.”

Villain glared.

“What have you done?”

Superhero smiled, shrugged.

“Alright I am feeling a little left out here,” Supervillain said, stepping in front of Villain. “How about you give me some attention.”

“Oh, gladly,” Superhero grinned. “Though I will be honest, I was enjoying seeing you in a cage.”

“You knew I would never be in there long,” Supervillain said.

“Yeah, but I’d hoped for at least a couple of days. This is just pathetic.”

“That describes you well.”  

“Tch.”

The two clashed sudden and violent. It was all Villain could do to stagger out of the way. Every move was beginning to be an effort, and a new wave of nausea was threatening them.

Supervillain and Superhero battled, crashing holes in the walls, shaking the very room itself with every contact. Villain saw an opening and tried for it, regretted it.

In that moment Superhero kicked Supervillain across the room and turned to Villain, pummelling them into the wall, hand on their head. The shock reverberated through Villain, through their bones and they wheezed.

“You really think its going to be that easy?” Superhero hissed, “that I won’t find you again?”

Superhero pulled their head forward and smacked it back.

“You really think Supervillain is your answer?”

If Villain had words, they couldn’t find them.

Supervillain yanked Superhero back and Villain crumpled to the floor.

“You seem desperate for their attention,” Supervillain said. “Is there something I am missing?”

“I just know a good pawn when I see one.”

Villain tried picking themselves up, but the room was swaying beneath them. There was blood on the back of their head, in their mouth. Supervillain crashed into the wall beside them, glancing at them only a second before avoiding a punch that went through the wall between them.

“You don’t treat your pawns very well.”

“I do when they behave,” Superhero said.

Supervillain lunged, Superhero ducked, and a gunshot halted everything.

Both Superhero and Supervillain paused mid beating. Their heads turned to the hallway the sound came from, the direction of Superhero’s office. A second gunshot, then in quick succession a third. Silence. Footsteps.

Curious, Superhero arched themself around the corner, recoiling back as a bullet flew past their head, embedding in the wall behind them.

Supervillain took an educated guess, taking the chance to smack Superhero over the back of the head. They staggered and Supervillain grabbed Villain and hauled them up, rushing around the corner.

Supervillain came face to face with a person, Partner, gun steadily aimed. Behind them a young child cowered, covering their ears.

“You must be the leverage against Villain,” Supervillain said.

 Partner’s eyes shot to Villain, who was awkwardly held up by Supervillain’s arm.                It took all their will power not to drop the gun then and there, to grab them and take them away. Villain tried pushing themselves out of Supervillain’s grasp but they held on tighter.

“Nuh, uh, the deal was you get me out of here.”

Behind them Superhero was collecting themself.

“You can’t,” Partner said.

“I have to,” Villain panted.

Villain held out their hand, and there was no time for hesitation. Partner grabbed the child, then Villain and the collar lit up.

They appeared somewhere outside, air crisp and light, sun slowly setting. Supervillain let Villain go, let them collapse into Partner’s arms who took them tightly, re-aiming their gun at Supervillain’s head.

“This is the part where you leave,” they growled.

Supervillain cocked their head. “I’m not sure you want that.” They gestured to Villain.

Partner looked down at Villain, flattening their hand against their back. Their very still back.

“Villain?” Partner breathed.

Quickly they laid Villain down, fingers pressed into their neck. Nothing.  

“I can help,” Supervillain said, “I can save them.”

Partner looked up at them, fear and anger.

“At what cost.”

Supervillain gave a small shrug. “Just one favour, that’s all. It’s the least they can do for the mess they caused.”

Partner glared, jaw tight. There was no thinking about it, no choice to make.

“Please,” they said.

Supervillain scooped Villain up.

“We better be quick then.”

~

“Damn you’re heavy,” they grunted.

They took in a few sharp breaths before squatting down to pick up their phone, shooting back up as fast as possible before their legs gave out. Never had they been more grateful for the gym. They left the alleyway quickly, already feeling Villain’s blood soaking into their shirt. It was warm and uncomfortable and every jostle of him against their bony shoulders only made it worse.

At this time of night there was no one around, and they hugged the shadows, walking through the blind spots they knew existed as they snuck into their apartment building. There were no cameras in here, none that worked at least, and Civilian punched the secondary door code in, bending slightly to pull the door open. Their shoulders and back ached already and they moved quickly to the elevator, pressing the button more times then necessary.

The elevator crawled down from level five and Civilian’s teeth were ready to snap by the time the doors opened. They leant against the elevator wall as the doors closed, fighting every desire to put Villain down. If they did that now they wouldn’t be able to get him back up.

Civilian got off on the third floor and bee-lined for their door, cursing as they fished for their keys in their pocket. Of course, they dropped their fucking keys and had to place Villain down, fiddling with them until they could push the door open.

Civilian looped their arms under Villain’s armpits and dragged him inside, throwing the door closed before dragging him up on the couch. They turned the lights on, closed the curtains and didn’t even look at him again as they walked to the bathroom.

They pulled off their bloody shirt, grabbing a not so dirty one and putting it on as they bent down in front of their sink. They took out a large medical kit from the cupboard, an assortment of spare hair products and soaps clattering to the floor.

Villain was still completely motionless as Civilian returned, his breaths short and ragged.

The contents of the first aid bag spilled out onto the floor as Civilian tipped it, discarding the bag and snatching up a pair of scissors. Civilian cut through Villain’s shirt, peeling the wet cloth away from his skin and revealing the horrors underneath.

Two large wounds one open and gaping, one thin but bleeding profusely. They quickly cut through the rest of the shirt, fabric flopping against the couch while they grabbed a handful of dressings. Packaging crinkled under their hands, and they tore it off, packing it into the wound and pressing down. Warm blood stuck to their hands.

“Oh shit gloves.”

But it was too late now.

Keeping one hand on the biggest wound Civilian grabbed some more dressings and, after awkwardly unwrapping them, pressed them against the other wound. Then they sat in silence, their hands pressed onto the bloody wounds of a war criminal.

As the blood continued to soak through the larger wound Civilian adding more dressing, removing their hand only long enough to grab another. Eventually the other wound ceased bleeding and they could focus on the one, until they no longer needed to apply more dressing.

However, it took almost a full ten minutes for the bleeding to finally stop and by then there was blood all over the couch, down Civilian’s arms and on the rug. The smell was intense, more so then they expected, and it took all their will power to ignore their churning stomach.

Once the larger wound stopped bleeding, they left the piles of dressing on it and moved their attention back to the smaller one, carefully removing the layers of bandage. They disappeared into the kitchen and filled a bowl with warm water before grabbing a clean tea towel from the drawer.

There was only so much they could do with just water and cloth, but they cleaned around the wound as much as possible, giving them as good of a view as they could. They grabbed a tube of saline but hesitated as they raised their hand over the would. They watched Villain’s face, hunting for signs of… anything really, and after a second squirted the saline into the wound. No reaction.

Civilian let out an uneasy breath and finally looked back to the larger wound. They were much more careful with this once, taking the dressing off as delicately as possible, using the cloth and water to ease it back. Once it was off, and the wound didn’t start bleeding again, they repeated the process, cleaning everything until they could see clearly.

Now for the hard part.

Both wounds were going to need stitching, and Civilian did not have a suture kit. They did however have a sewing kit and fishing line.

Civilian rummaged through the organised chaos of their craft box and came out with both, still deciding whether this was a good idea or not. Stitches were necessary, they were certain of that, but will their attempt cause more harm then good?

Last time they tried stitches they gave themself an infection, but that was because they used cotton thread. Fishing line should be fine…

Urgency overrode doubt and they took the tools back to their mess of a work area, unreeling the line out and laying it along the pile of plastic packaging. They found a disinfectant wipe and ran it along the line, going over it multiple times in hopes that would help. They took out a curved sewing needle from the sewing box, did the same thing for it, then washed it with saline, wiped it again.

Their chest tightened as they went through all of this, doubt writhing in their stomach but they pressed through, threading the needle with practiced ease.

Civilian swallowed, took a breath, pinching together the skin of the open wound. Before they could psyche themself out, they started. The muscle flinched but made no other movements as they began the first stitch. It made them squirm on the spot, threading through flesh. It was soft and warm and moved, and they couldn’t help but imagine the sensation on their own body. The feeling of the thread moving through them, the little tug at the end.

“Stop it would you?” They snapped at themself, trying to focus on the task at hand.

It took just under an hour for them to stitch the wounds fully and by the end of it they felt lightheaded and sick. They were covered in blood, everything was covered in blood, and they still had to try and bandage him. They looked at their red hands, the clean bandages and decided that cleaning would be the best idea first.

Civilian went to the bathroom, the red glaring against the white sink as they scrubbed as much blood off as they could. They used baby wipes, went and found alcohol wipes and briefly thought about bleach before realising that was a stupid fucking idea. They cleaned everything off as best they could and even though they were still pink, it had to be enough.

They put gloves on this time, for Villain more then themself at this point, and gently, very gently lifted him up. They moved him just enough so that their arm could fit under his body, placed his shoulders up against the arm of the couch, head positioned against the back. They removed his now shredded shirt and threw it onto the already ready ruined rug along with all the other bloody rubbish.

They taped several gauzes along the wound then began wrapping the bandage around. It took little figuring out, but they found the right amount of pressure and soon fell into a rhythm.  

Civilian tried to not look at his face, tried not to even breath on him as their hands flittered across his body. It had been a long time since they had, had to be so close to another person, willingly at least. They hadn’t hugged someone in literal years, probably the most other contact had been nothing more then a handshake, and here they were having to manipulate a stranger’s body.

They finished the bandages quickly but effectively and returned him to a more comfortable position. He looked like shit still, but slightly less shit. His breathing had evened out just little, which was fast progress, but this was Villain after all. Civilian couldn’t exactly hold them to the usual standard of healing.

However, the fact that he had yet to even stir was concerning.

Without an impending doom Civilian decided to take a break and make a cup of tea. If they didn’t, they feared that they would pass out. While the kettle boiled, they found a box of cookies and took out two, eating them carefully as they stared at their couch over the bench. They couldn’t see him exactly, which was a bit of a grace, but they could feel his presence.

The questions started rising as they took a moment to stand still. How he got there, why, what happened? Clearly a fight of some sort, or perhaps something worse… Either way it didn’t explain why or how he ended up in Civilian’s alleyway. Surely, he couldn’t have ran there himself.

The kettle boiled and they decided to add an extra spoonful of sugar to their cup before pouring the water in. A couple of stirs, tea bad out, splash of cold water in and they took a sip. Immediately their fog in their head cleared a little and they took a few more sips, the warmth seeping down into their chest. They looked back over the bench, then rounded the corner to see him.

No less pale and looked no less like a train hit him.

They moved back towards the coffee table, placed their mug down and began inspecting the rest of his body. There were bruises on his face, one eye was partially swollen but it seemed otherwise intact. His arms were also bruised, wrists red and raw. They wrapped those too after disinfecting them and stepped back, taking another sip of tea as they assessed the situation.

There was no blood on his pants and while they probably should check for any broken bones, Civilian decided that, while he was unconscious and immobile, that could wait. They’re sure he’ll tell them if anything is broken when he wakes up. His torso, now it wasn’t covered in blood was covered in bruises and there was no way for them to tell if anything was broken, and even if they could, nothing they could do about it. So, for now, their work was done.

Civilian grabbed some blankets from the hallway cupboard and laid them over Villain, tucking in his feet and arms to keep in as much warmth as possible. They debated turning on the heating, they try and use it as little as possible, opting for heated blankets and things instead but could they put a heated blanket on someone with injuries like that?

Civilian caved and turned the heating on, dreading the bill but weighing the risk was worth it. They didn’t want all their hard work to be undone simply because their tiny apartment was too cold. They closed all the doors around, making sure the curtain was properly drawn before taking a seat on the coffee table. Villain still hadn’t moved, and they watched him carefully, taking another sip of tea as they watched the rise and fall of his chest.

Only a little was known about him in these parts. He is powerful, that’s for sure, one of the top villains in the country. The heroes here would definitely have a hard time dealing with him, and they definitely couldn’t do this to him. He usually spends his time across the state, in the capital where he supposedly lived or at least spent the most time harassing the big heroes there. Civilian had only seen him once, when talking to an off-duty hero, but that hadn’t been Civilian’s main focus at the time, so they hadn’t paid much attention.

Villain wasn’t always at the top, he used to be at the very bottom in fact, in the worst pits this world has to offer. Is that what happened here? Who else could do something like this?

There was no way to get an answer, not now at least. Civilian didn’t really sleep that night, they tried to settle into the armchair near the couch, but their eyes kept opening to glance at Villain.

For the next three days Villain remained unconscious. In that time Civilian removed the blood-stained rug, replaced Villain’s bandages, and did their best to clean the couch but with both Villain being on it and not wanting to bleach their dark coloured couch, there wasn’t much they could do.

They actually got quite used to him being there, going about their day as best as they could, the only difference now is they didn’t have a couch to sit on. By the third day they grew confident, as well as concerned, by the fact that he wouldn’t wake up and decided to leave for a much needed grocery shop. They had forgotten the groceries they’d left in the alleyway and food had been low then, so now it was dire.

Villain’s wounds were still horrible to look at and they figured that even if he did wake up while they were gone, he wouldn’t be able to get very far.

Civilian shopped like it was an Olympic event, only barely adhering to speed limits and almost hitting severely people with their trolly as they zoomed around the store, having to retrace their steps several times as they forgot things. Eventually they managed to do the usually hour and a half event, including driving, in an hour. It was a little impressive actually.

They shuffled awkwardly into the apartment, arms filled with bags, just managing to close the door behind them before they dropped one, which thankfully didn’t have the eggs in it. They waddled into the kitchen, placing everything down on the ground, frowning as they straightened.

They couldn’t place what was wrong at first, that tugging feeling pulling them towards the couch. They obeyed, eyes widening at the sight of the empty cushions.

Civilian moved at the last second as Villain reached for them. He grasped at thin air and stumbled, balancing himself on the edge of the bench. He was sweating, panting too as he struggled to stay up right, clutching his side and barely holding on. None the less he held the knife in his hand, pointed at Civilian.

“Who are you,” he said. “Where am I?”

“My name is Civilian, you’re in my apartment and you really should lay down,” they said. They weren’t afraid of him, even with the knife in his hands they doubted he could do anything. They were, however, afraid for him. If he passed out here and fell onto the ground, he could reopen all his wounds and they really didn’t want to try and re-stitch things while he was awake.

“What city?” He growled.

“Villain you need to calm down, you’re safe.”

The statement seemed to anger him more and he tried to lunge forward, probably grab Civilian or something, but he was much too clumsy for that. Civilian took the opportunity, grabbing the knife with one hand and him with the other. The knife clattered to the ground, mostly from his already loose grip, and they manoeuvred him, pushing the back of his legs on the arm of the couch and lowering him onto it. He tried to fight, tried to stand but there was no strength in his attempts.

“Villain, stop, you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep moving.”

“Who are you?” He asked again.

“I already told you, my name is Civilian. You need to lay down, ok? You’re going to pass out other wise.”

He didn’t fight them as they finally got him in place, though he muttered some sounds as they did so. Once he was laid down again his eyes rolled back and Civilian sighed. They scanned the bandages, waiting but no blood seeped through.

Civilian sighed.

“I guess this is going to be an uphill battle now.”

~

Hope you enjoyed, if you want to be added to a tag list just let me know and if you like my work I have a growing collection here on my blog so check it out! 

“Well, whoever chopped up this young man definitely opened the invitation, but he was not nearly inviting enough for anyone to accept.”

“If you don’t start giving me actual answers I’ll-”

Partner appeared in front of them again, eyes a little bright, entirely too close. If Detective couldn’t breath before they definitely couldn’t now.

“You’ll what? Spank me? Sweetie, I thought we talked about threats, you can’t do it, and honestly its no longer fun to watch you try.”

Detective grit their teeth, heart in their throat until Partner finally stepped back. They breathed. Partner paced about in front of them.  

“If you want to know why an invitation can go unanswered,” their hands moved as they spoke, “there are a few reasons actually. My people are quite fussy folks despite popular belief. We don’t just gobble up any souls thrown at our feet, we aren’t bottom feeders like the lower-level creatures. If the right sacrifice isn’t provided or the right deal offered, then we decline. It could be simply that they weren’t interesting enough of a person for a demon to want to bother with.”  

Detective dragged their gaze back to the scene.

“And can you tell why this one was declined?”

“Hmm.. not really, that boy’s soul has long left his body so there is nothing left for me to appraise. But interestingly enough the room wreaks frankincense.”

“Frankincense?” Detective frowned.

“Yes, which leads to some fascinating assumptions. Most demons won’t accept invitations from holy folks because 9 times out of 10 it’s a trap, however it’s a good way to lure in more powerful demons who can afford to fuck around and find out.”

Detective looked about the room.

“If this was a trap you wouldn’t be able to be here right now,” Detective said.

“Hmm, this is true.”  Partner said turning around to look at Detective, “that is, unless the trap has left the room.”

Detective stared at the alter, felt the blood dripping down their body.

“How common is this knowledge,” Detective asked.

“Not as common as one would think,” Partner said, reaching out and turning Detective’s gaze back to them. “You have an informant that might be able to help you narrow it down, maybe we should go talk to them. We have gathered everything we can from here now.”

Detective’s eyes darted back to the scene but before they could focus on it again Partner grabbed their hand and turned them away.

“Come on, I haven’t seen informant in forever.”

Detective felt far away, but Partner’s hand was warm against their skin, and as they stepped outside the sun beamed down on them, soaking in.

“That’s because all you two do is flirt with each other,” Detective finally said.  

Partner grinned, “oh the good memories.”

~

Informant’s place was usually vibrant and active, however as Detective and Partner approached it was silent. No music, no voices, not even a light on. On the door hung a note, Detective plucked it off.

“I heard down the grape vine you may need me, however other matters have grabbed my attention. Go to the bookshop across from a bell tower and seek the person inside, they may not be as good looking as me, but they will be as helpful, if not more. Give my love to Partner,” Detective read. They started at the note, re-red it. “A bookshop across from a bell tower, are you kidding me? That’s not a direction.”

Partner flittered around Detective, “Maybe they just want to test that big, beautiful brain of yours.”

“Well, I don’t have time for this bullshit, there is an occultist murderer on the loose and in case you haven’t noticed there is a church right behind us and literally a dozen other-”

A bell rang, big and heavy and old. The sound reverberated in Detective’s head, vibrated through their body. Detective stood on a narrow street, grass and greenery to their right, small buildings to their left. A church was perched out on the grass, a cemetery stretching out from its side, old headstones barely held together. And there a bell hung at the top of a small tower, old and rusted and silent. Across from it, a quaint little bookshop, windows peering into shelves inside. Detective passed through it, stood in front of a desk where a person sat, working away on something.

Detective looked up at the grey sky, over at Partner standing beside them with a bemused grin.

“You couldn’t even stop me from falling?” Detective said, picking themself up off the ground.

“If I help you every time, how will you learn to not fall when it happens? You’ll just learn to rely on me, and we can’t have that.”

Detective just rolled their eyes and brushed themself off.

“So, do you know where you are going?”

Detective wanted nothing more then to punch out that smug face.

“Yes,” they said and started walking.

“You know, if you practiced and didn’t deny your gifts you could do that on will.”

“I’m not in the mood for this,” Detective snapped.

“And since when has that stopped me before?”

Detective said nothing and walked back to the car.

The bookshop across from the fucking bell tower turned out to be a twenty-minute drive away and Partner spent the entire twenty minutes yabbering on about bullshit. Halfway through Detective spaced out, at first a welcome reprieve until the body floated into their mind, the alter, the blood. Their blood.

Partner touched Detective’s arm, “and you know what happened when he didn’t listen to me?”

Detective blinked into focus.

“I don’t know, he died?”

“He died,” Partner nodded.

“And how many people died because they did listen to you?” Detective asked, glancing over.

Partner waved them off. “That doesn’t matter, I don’t want you dead so its irrelevant to the conversation.”

“Sure.”

Detective pulled into a park a little bit down the road from the bookshop, though there were plenty of parks out front of it. The street was dead, not a soul in sight or a sound to be heard, the city a far-off rumble. The bookshop looked unassuming, like just any other bookshop, but Detective could feel a warmth emitting from it, like a heated bubble around it protecting from the bite of the air outside. It felt relaxing, inviting which only made Detective square their shoulders, hold a hand to their pocket.

Detective entered first, a small bell ringing above them as they opened the door. They held the door open for Partner as they stepped inside.

The moment Partner did they faltered, holding on to the door frame as a pulse of energy startled them. Their skin felt hot, some of the fire inside of them rising to the surface.

“Partner,” Detective said, “you’re eyes.”

Detective stared as Partner’s eyes glowed, pupils slitted, blood red iris swirling.

“Well shit,” Partner said, blinking, “I can’t turn it off.”

Detective grabbed Partner’s arm, ready to drag them out and leave.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a demon in my store,” A voice said.

Both heads snapped over to a person standing at the end of a bookshelf. They were dressed like they were either in the wrong era or at the wrong event. Well fitted dress pants, polished black shoes and a waist coat with the most elegant embroidery Detective had ever seen.

“And it’s been a while since I’ve met someone who knows how to ward so well,” Partner said, looking about the room, then back to them. “Who taught you?”

The Stranger shrugged, “would you believe me if I said I was self taught?”

Partner laughed, “not for a second. No human could figure this out on their own.”

The stranger just shrugged again, then reached up to one of the shelves and drew a circle with their finger. Partner’s eyes returned to normal.

“Why don’t we talk in my office?”

Without waiting for a reply, The Stranger turned and disappeared into the aisle. Detective and Partner followed quickly. Detective felt uncomfortable as they walked through, like they were too hot and too cold at the same time. The room itself was perfectly warm, like being wrapped in a comfy blanket, it made Detective want to relax into on of he couches or armchairs speckled about, just take a moment to collect themself. But that sensation panicked them, they rebelled against it, tightened their fists in an attempt to not relax.

They walked what seemed like forever, but in reality, was only a few metres to the back of the shop, to a door held wide open. The Stranger was already at their desk, leant against the front of it, waiting for them.

Partner went to walk in first. Stopped, looked around the door frame.

“I can’t get in,” they said, impressed.

“Well,” The Stranger said, “you could if you tried hard enough but by the time that happens, I would be long gone.” They looked to Detective. “You should be fine to step through though.”

Detective hesitated. They weren’t afraid to be without Partner, they couldn’t care less about their presence… most of the time, however this felt dangerous, felt out of Detectives usual bounds of experience.

None the less, Detective stepped inside.

“I suppose I should introduce myself,” The Stranger said. “I am Civilian, this is my bookshop, but I am assuming you aren’t here for books, or at the very least the books I have out there.” They gestured out the door.

“No,” Detective, “we were told you’d have information for us.”

“Told by whom?”

“Informant.”

Detective felt regret the moment the word finished leaving their mouth. The welcoming warmth turned cold and Civilian’s jaw set.

“You work with Informant?” They said.

“Occasionally,” Detective said, “you know them.”

Civilian scoffed, “that’s putting it kindly. At least the asshat didn’t try to convince you they know everything. They couldn’t differentiate a sigil if you gave them a legend along with it.”

“Sounds like you don’t like them,” Partner said, grinning.

“If this wasn’t about the summoning I would refuse you just for affiliating with them,” they snapped, but reeled themself back, took a breath. “But you are here about that, and so I need to get over myself.”

“How brave of you,” Partner mocked.

“You know about the summoning,” Detective said before Civilian retaliated. Their gaze shifted to him.

“Yes, word spreads quickly in this world,” they looked back to Partner who was now on their phone. “Was it successful?”

“I’m really curious now how you know Informant. A business deal gone wrong? Ooh maybe ex lovers? That would be spicy.”

Civilian glared.

“Partner,” Detective snapped, “enough.”

Partner rolled their eyes, “you’re no fun. No, the summoning wasn’t successful, the place wreaked of Frankincense, so it was probably a trap.”

Civilian frowned, walked around their desk and sat down. They pulled the drawer beside them open and flicked through it, muttering something to themself. Detective stepped forward, peered over the desk but as they did the drawer slammed shut and Civilian had a folder.

“What are you thinking?”

“A lot of occult groups come to me for information and most of the time I give them wrong information,” Civilian said.

“You what?” Partner burst out, utterly amused.

“Most groups know jack shit to begin with and are just radicalised folks trying to have a higher purpose. These are the kind of people who either a, would just get killed by a demon if they did manage to summon it, or b, would use a demon to cause mass death or destruction. So, I feed them the wrong information, like for example that Frankincense is the key ingredient to a summoning.”

“So, they burn a bunch of it and instead end up deterring most demons,” Partner said, “I like that. You’re clever.”

Civilian shrugged.

“Do you have any pictures of the scene?” They asked.

“No-”

“Yes,” Partner said.

Detective looked to them.

“What? Just because you weren’t working doesn’t mean I wasn’t.” They said, fishing their phone out of their pocket. Detective went and reached over the line, flicking through the photos before turning and bringing it back.

“Just don’t scroll too far or you might find something you won’t like,” Partner grinned. “Or maybe you will.”

Civilian did not entertain the comment and took the phone, looking down at the photos, squinting, zooming in on parts.

“Damn,’ they muttered, putting the file down and opening the drawer again, flicking through.

“Is that a good damn or a bad one?” Partner asked.

“Bad,” Civilian said. “Did you see the trail?”

Partner eyed them, “yes, how did you?”

Civilian looked to Detective. “A trail is something left by certain creatures and spectres, most commonly spirits or ghosts who died tragically. This kid wasn’t just killed, his soul was suspended, trapped there, which is not a common thing to be able to do.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means this was more then just a summoning, and these people are after more then just a demon. If it wasn’t for the frankincense, they would have attracted much more then that, much worse.”

“Worse?” Detective echoed.

“Less willing to talk it out,” Partner said. “Remember those lower levels I was telling you about?”

“Among other things,” Civilian said.

“So do you know who it was?” Detective asked.

“I’ll have to get back to you on it, I have a hunch but need to confirm.”

Civilian picked up multiple files and opened them across their desk, scanning them.

“That’s it?” Partner said, “I thought you’d be more impressive then that.”

“Why don’t you come in here and say that?” Civilian said looking up at them.

Detective stepped between them.

“I am sure you appreciate this is a time sensitive matter, I can only give you 24 hours to get the answers you need.”

“You’ll have it before then,” Civilian said, “If we don’t figure this out by tonight, they are going to try again and this time they might not use the frankincense.”

Detective eyed them as they looked back down at their work, focussed. They nodded, turned to partner.

A very busy schedule, one they can’t even begin to figure out how to resume. How the fuck were they going to get out of this. They can barely walk and they expect to be able to escape Villain of all people? While their whole attention is on Civilian? There is no way they aren’t fucked, no way this isn’t the end and yet there is no way they can let this be the end. One way or another they are going to get out, they have to.

The door hissed, followed by a clunk before it opened and in walked, not Villain. Civilian knitted their brows together.

“Who the fuck are you?”

They closed the door behind them and with a sharp clank the door was locked again.

“I am Right Hand,” Right Hand said. “Villain is a little busy right now.”

Civilian snorted. “Sure, whatever you say.”

“Villain is a very busy person, lots on their plate. They don’t have time for little issues like you, that’s my job. To deal with the things Villain doesn’t have time to worry about.”

“Wow, that’s a low blow. Unfortunately for you I don’t have much of an ego to bruise.” Civilian leaned back in their chair. “Besides, what you are saying is absolute bullshit. I know what I stole, and I know that Villain cares a lot about it. If that thing got in the hands of the Heroes, or some megalomaniac Villain? Everything they have worked for would be destroyed.”

Right Hand cocked his head. “But you are neither of those things.”

“Do I look like either of those things?” They vaguely gestured to themself.  “I am a nobody.”

Right Hand stood at the side of the table, leaned on it.  

“A nobody who broke into the most secure facility in the entire world, and just killed a small army of people. That’s a lot for a nobody.”

“Now you are just trying to flatter me.”

“Not really,” Right Hand’s eyes narrowed, “I want to know how, because for obvious reasons we can’t have that happening.”

Civilian waved a hand. “Don’t worry, everyone else is too scared of Villain to try something like that. If it were that easy the heroes would be crawling through here by now.”

“So you’ve achieved something not even the heroes together could achieve?”

“I didn’t say that. What do they say about beginners luck and all that?

Now Right Hand’s brows furrowed as he studied Civilian, trying to understand the person sitting in front of him.  

“I am going to cut to the chase,” They said.

“Finally,” Civilian groaned.

Right Hand glared. “You get one opportunity to tell me what I want to know before I take the information myself.”

Civilian scoffed. “You want to torture me? Good luck.”

“No, we don’t find torture an effective method of information gathering. People will say whatever you want them to, to make it stop. We have much more efficient and accurate ways of retrieving information. So, what will it be?”

Civilian leaned forward, a stupid grin on their face. “Well now I am curious what this method is, option B please.”

Right Hand withheld another sigh.

“Very well.”

Right Hand stepped around Civilian, disappearing behind them.  

“This will not be pleasant,” Right Hand said.

Civilian smiled and looked up into the camera.

“We’ll see about that.”

Right Hand placed their hands on Civilian’s head and Civilian stiffened, Right Hand closing their eyes. After a second Civilian’s closed too.

It felt like what Civilian imagined it would feel like to have your brain grabbed by someone’s bare hands while you were awake. There was a yanking sensation and Civilian fell back into themself, appearing in a library. Not a big, grand one with towering ceilings and beautiful architecture, but more of a run down school or council library, shelves lining the walls, old wooden tables and chairs placed in the centre of the clearing they stood. From the clearing there were six pathways made up of bookshelves, leading off into darkness. Civilian sat down on one of the tables as Right Hand looked around the place.

“Wow, this is pretty cool,” Civilian said. “Is this my mind?”

“Yes,” Right Hand said. “This room is based off a place very dear to you. Sometimes a place you don’t even remember. From here I can access every single one of your memories, and if you don’t tell me how you got in, and where the things you stole are, I am going to go through each of your memories until I find it.”

“Oh, I see. So you get to just go through everyone’s personal shit to get what you want.” They leaned back on the table, “hm, and I am guessing the person gets to experience their memories while you go through them.”

“Yes,” Right Hand said, “it can be very emotionally taxing and for some people, extremely unpleasant.”

“I can imagine,” Civilian said. “There has to be a way you know what you are looking for though, otherwise that’s a lot of shit for you to sift through.”

“I have ways,” Right Hand eyed them, “I don’t think you are appreciating what’s about to happen here.”

Civilian smiled, bubbling with excitement and anticipation. “Probably not.”

“This is your last chance to give me what I want.”

Civilian just smiled.

“Suit yourself.”

Right Hand turned and headed towards one of the paths, glancing back at Civilian one more time only to see them still grinning. Their expression creased but Right Hand kept moving approaching the first pathway.

However, before they could walk through, a silvery barrier stopped them.

“You people are always so cocky,” Civilian said now leaning forward, elbows on their knees. “Thinking you can do whatever, whenever you want just because you’re powerful. Heroes and Villains, honestly these days there isn’t much difference between you and you all seem to think you are the only ones.”

Right Hand turned around, unable to hide the shock in their face.

“Are you stopping me?”

“What ever do you mean?” The sarcasm dripped from their voice. “You’re the one invading my mind, how could I possibly have any power against you?”

Right hand glared, walked to a different path but was once against met with the same silvery energy. They turned, looked around and suddenly all paths had a silvery sheen blocking it.

“How are you doing this?”

Civilian shrugged and hopped off the table.

“You’re the one who made the mistake of going into the mind of a person you don’t understand.”

They waved their hand and a chair appeared out of no where, ramming into the back of Right Hand’s knees and forcing them to sit. The moment their limbs touched wood, the wood twisted and grew, wrapping around them, holding them in place. Right Hand struggled, but the wood bit into their skin.

Right Hand looked up, mouth open but all words failed them. They were no longer in a library, there was only a single bookshelf here, between the tv and the couch. They stood in a wooden cabin, snow falling outside the window.

“How…”

“Hey you’re the one who opened up a connection between our minds, not my fault you thought you were the only one who could use it.”

Civilian said striding over to the bookshelf.

“What are you doing?”

“I might as well get some information while I’m here.”

“Stop,” Right Hand pulled against the chair.

They did, turned around and smiled.

“Oh darling don’t stress,” suddenly they stood directly in front of Right Hand. “Here why don’t you relax a little, go for a walk.” They kicked the chair and Right Hand flew back.

The room vanished and Right Hand fell.

Their life flashed before their eyes, every moment consuming them in an instant. They felt all the pain they’ve ever felt, all the joy, the sadness, the terror. It was a vortex of everything funnelling through them, around them. Right Hand had no sense of anything, no sense of how much time passed or even what was happening. They saw faces of people they never wanted to see again, memories they had pushed down deep, sorrows they had fought to move past. And perhaps even worse, they saw the happy memories connected to those, the good parts of their life long behind them, ended abruptly and painfully.

Right Hand plummeted, and suddenly they weren’t.

Everything stopped all at once and Right Hand was back in Civilian’s library, except now the tables were broken, books scattered and Villain was their, holding Civilian by the throat, blood dripping from their nose.

Right hand couldn’t catch their breath, couldn’t stop the memories.

Villain appeared beside them, hands on their now free arms.

“Hey, you need to breath, focus on breathing, draw it in slow, let it out slow, long, deep and controlled, ok?” Villain squeezed their arms, “in,” they released the pressure, “out.”

Right Hand struggled to take in a breath, following Villains pattern of pressure.

“Good, nice and slow.”

Right Hand looked up, met Villain’s eyes, then looked passed them.  Civilian had been pushed against the wall, the material bending itself unnaturally around their wrists to hold them place. They glared, the first real look of emotion Right Hand had seen since walking into that room. They glared at Villain, but the anger went further out then that.

Without thinking Right Hand stood, gaze fixed on Civilian. Villain stepped back, letting Right Hand walk forward.

“You are looking for something,” Right Hand said.

“I’m not in the mood to talk,” They said.

“You’re angry.”

“This has put a dampener on my day, yes.”

Right hand stared at them, head cocked brows furrowed as the picture, the feeling blurred a little.

“You are hiding it from me.”

Civilian scoffed, “of course I am hiding it from you, why wouldn’t I?”

Villain came to Right Hand’s side and placed a hand on their shoulder.

“We should go before they regain control,” Villain said.

Right Hand nodded and without hesitation broke the connection.

Everyone shot back into their own mind and a migraine began forming in Civilian’s head. They groaned, pressed their palms into their forehead.

“You’re right Right Hand that was unpleasant.”

Right Hand stepped back, balling the hands into fists to try and stop them shaking. Villain was beside them, removed their own hands from Civilian and looked to Right Hand.

“You go, I’ve got this from here.”

Right Hand nodded and left without a single hesitation. Civilian watched them go out of the corner of their eye, watched Villain come around them.  

“You just keep getting more and more interesting don’t you.”

Villain rounded the table and Civilian raised their head to watch them.

“What can I say, I’m an interesting person.”

They stared each other down, Villain now standing on one side of the table, staring into those silvery eyes. But that wasn’t the only interesting part about them. The silver leaked out of the bottom of the pupil, like paint dripping out of its container, creating three uneven lines under their pupil.

Civilian had the advantage at least. They knew Villain, knew what they were capable of, their history, their goals. Villain was an open book who had shared their pages with the world. Civilian on the other hand was a nobody, a mystery. Villain knew nothing about them and would continue to know nothing until such a time Civilian decided to share, and that was never going to happen.

“So, what are we thinking here?” Civilian said, snapping the silence. “You’re friends trick didn’t work, and unless you want a mind to mind fist fight, you attempting the same thing won’t work, and I don’t feel like sharing much of anything with you.”

“Yes, we seem to be in a bit of a situation don’t we?” Villain took a seat. “It must feel nice, having the upper hand on the city’s greatest villain.”

“I really couldn’t care less about it,” Civilian said. “I’m not really into that kind of stuff.”

“And yet you stole from me,” Villain said.

Civilian scoffed, “what? Do you think I did that as some sort of power play? You had something that I needed so I took it, its not much more complicated then that.”

“It is though,” Villain said, the darkness in their voice startled Civilian a little. Damn that’s intimidating.

“Because,” Villain continued, “you didn’t take just anything from me, you took three of my most powerful and dangerous weapons, three. The book and the amulet I can understand, they have many uses and if one figures out how to use them, you can essentially do whatever. However, I am struggling to understand what possible use you would have for a reality bending bomb.”

“Are you worried I am going to hurt someone with it?” Civilian asked.

“No, I am worried you are going to fuck up my plans. I have built a very careful structure in this city and its still growing. Its not yet self sufficient, and a chuckle head like you coming in with a bomb and a Dark Grimoire would really fuck with me day.”

Civilian nodded, “that does sound like it would be annoying.”

Villain sighed and let irritation into their expression, studying Civilian. Clearly showing off wasn’t the point, because this would be the perfect moment for them to boast about their triumph. They have some sort of mission, a reason to need what they stole, but other then destroying the city, if not the world, Villain can’t think of what they may want. A bomb is a bomb, there are limited non-destructive goals with that, and the grimoire, well that could be anything.

“Do you even know magic?” Villain asked. “That book has killed many people trying to use it, if you don’t know what you are doing it will swallow you whole.”

“Are you trying to scare me into giving it up?” Civilian laughed, “is that the tactic you are going with?”

Villain shrugged, “you aren’t giving me much more to work with.” They leaned back, crossing their arms. “I could start threatening you. I could threaten to find your family and kill each of them until you give me my stuff back.”

There is a flicker of something in Civilian’s expression, not so much a hint of something but rather a sudden and purposeful lack of expression, as if they were working to hide a reaction. Villain studied it carefully.

“It doesn’t have to go that far though, just give me what I want, and you walk out of here scott free, without a second thought in the world.”

Civilian scoffed.

“You don’t believe me?” Villain asked.

“No, because even if I give it back to you, you still don’t know how I did it. You won’t let me leave here until you know exactly how I did it.”

“Hmm,” Villain hummed, “that is a good point. You are a security risk now, and I can’t have that.”

“So we are at an impasse here because I am not giving anything up and you aren’t letting me go.”

An impasse indeed…

“What are you looking for,” Villain asked.

Once again that purposeful stoic-ness lined Civilian’s features and their eyes shifted to the side.

“Why out of all the questions I’ve not answered do you think I will answer that?” Civilian asked.

Villain shrugged, “you kind of already have. You just confirmed for me that you are looking for something. Does it have to do with family?”

“If you think you’re going to-”

“So that’s a yes,” Villain said, “is it a family member or something else?”

Civilian’s jaw tightened.

“You’re looking for a person,” Villain said. A smile found their lips. “You have a terrible poker face by the way.”

Civilian glared at them, silvery eyes fierce and shining.

“This still helps you none,” Civilian said.

“On the contrary now I know you want something and I have something to offer you.”

That twisted Civilian’s expression, their brows furrowing, lips curving.

“You want to offer me a deal?”

Another shrug from Villain, “why is that surprising? If your ultimate goal is something else and I want my stuff back bad enough, it makes sense to take away your need for my stuff and help you achieve your goal.”

Civilian’s jaw ached from clenching it. It was an absolutely horrendous idea, and Villain shouldn’t be trusted for even a second. Not to mention the fact Villain is leaving the security risk aspect out of this and that Civilian has no confidence that at any point Villain will willingly let them go.

But they know that already. They are already planning to escape on their own and if Villain can help them, then they would have even more chance of escaping…

Civilian let out a breath, looked at Villain.

“I am looking for my son.”

   ~

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