Hurts So Good

TW: whipping, torture, beating, self-harm reference, suicidal thoughts (of the passive ideation variety), severe self-esteem issues; bad caretaker

“I. Won’t. Break.” 

Despite their diminutive stature, Charlie towered over Alex as they writhed against restraints on the table of Eric Goodgrave's torture chamber interrogation room. 

Charlie stared down at their victim grimly. “You will. You have to,” they responded matter-of-factly. 

Both of them were sweating beneath the bright, hot lights. They were going on hour three of their little dance, now. Charlie still held the whip but it now dangled lifelessly beside them. They simply stared down their victim. Cool. Calm. Collected. 

Alex–lying on their stomach–strained their neck to glare back at them, practically seething with rage. The anger protected them; as long as they held on to the fury deep within, it helped distract them from the excruciating burning all across their bare back. Yes, inside that room and beyond, anger protected them from the brutal realities of life as a hero. 

Charlie began the interrogation in a suit with a buttoned-up white dress shirt. By now, though, they had abandoned the blazer and rolled up their sleeves. It struck Alex as a strange juxtaposition. Here they were, being torn apart by this…this psychopath, as if they had just arrived home from their 9 to 5 to find the dog had peed in the house and were slightly irritated.

“Tell me where the team is,” Charlie murmured, slowly raising the whip up off the ground in a warning. 

Alex wanted the suffering to stop more than anything; they’d already passed out–twice–and hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in at least two days. But not more than they wanted to keep their teammates safe. No, they cared about them too much. They would die for them, there was no doubt in their mind. Alex scowled; unfortunately, although they wished to spit right in Charlie’s stupid face as they had at the start of the session, their parched mouth could no longer produce any saliva. I think I might die here, they thought to themselves…

That’s when they saw it. How hadn’t they seen it before?! 

Charlie’s dress shirt had shifted just enough to reveal a tattoo on their collarbone—a tattoo of a sparrow…the symbol of the hero's resistance. Identical to the tattoo they had as well! 

A roguish smile crossed Alex’s battered face. 

“So…what’s it like to be a traitor?” Charlie’s brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Your defection from the Hero’s League, silly!” Charlie’s face flashed with surprise momentarily before they returned to their stoic expression. 

“I think the blood loss is getting to you.” 

“Come on! Spill the tea!” cried Alex. Charlie tightened their grip on the whip and took a menacing step forward. 

“Ughhh–FINE, Mopey-Pants,” they said rolling their eyes. “Lucky for you I’m a good guesser. Hmmm….let’s see. You…stole documents with sensitive information?” 

Charlie sighed. “Stop this. Just spit it out already. There’s no other way you’re getting out of this.”

“Ok, not that one, then. Ummmm…failed a dangerous mission that resulted in the deaths of thousands?  Yikes, that’s definitely a big no-no! How about…unencrypted the hero’s security system? Staged a coup?”

Charlie was starting to get red in the face. Of course, this only provoked Alex to push further. 

“What about damaging top-secret technology?” 

“Alex–”

“Oooh oooh, I know! You shared your secret identity? Took an extra tray of tater-tots in the cafeteria?” 

“STOP,” Charlie exclaimed, adjusting their stance uncomfortably. They weren’t used to these things not going their way, of not having total control. The grin on Alex’s face spread even wider. 

“What about just sucking at doing your job, plain and simple?” 

“I will give you twenty more lashes if you don’t–”

“I’ve got it! You fell in love with a co-worker!” 

Alex opened their mouth once more to continue their diatribe but paused. It was slight, barely perceptible, but they saw it. Charlie’s eyes had widened a bit on that one… 

“Wait…seriously? Oh. My. GOD!! You actually–” Alex burst into laughter. But honestly, it wasn’t just to piss them off. It was genuinely ridiculous to them. (And the blood loss and malnutrition wasn’t helping either). 

“You have got to be kidding me! But I guess it’s kinda sweet; you had a little office crush!” Alex mocked, their eyes sparkling in pure, unbridled joy at the humiliation evident on Charlie’s face. 

“That’s–that’s not true,” Charlie stammered. “You’re just making shit up! Stop this nonsense because I swear I’ll–”

“You were actually so butt-hurt that after they broke your heart you became evil?” 

“Shut–”

“Your self-esteem is so fragile you actually became a villain! Like a coward! A self-pitying, coward!” 

Charlie was pissed now. Mortified and pissed. Their chest heaved as their breathing grew heavy and their nostrils flared. They couldn’t get a word in as Alex continued to denigrate them.

“What are you, an incel?! How absolutely–” 

“STOP–”

“PATHETIC!” Alex wheezed. They were howling with laughter now. So invested in the hilarity of the situation and having pulled one over on their abuser, Alex didn’t notice as Charlie…well…broke. 

“You were NEVER a true hero! You’re just a slimy, insecure, foolish bastard! Oh lord, whoever broke up with you dodged a HUGE bullet! Like what kinda idiot thinks you of all–” 

“SHUT UP!!!! SHUT UP!! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!! DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK OF THEM! DON’T YOU DARE INSULT THEM IN MY PRESENCE!” 

What happened next was a blur, for both hero and villain. Charlie whipped out the knife from their pocket and slashed it across Alex’s face. Then, they wrenched back the whip and slammed it against Alex’s back, over and over and over again. They were absolutely relentless, the entire time screaming, “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT! YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” 

Alex screamed as Charlie used more force than they had before. The lacerations already on their back deepened, scarlet red practically flooding off the sides of table. Charlie’s barrage just would not stop. Tears streamed out of Alex’s eyes as apologized profusely and begged for it to stop. Soon their vision grew blurry and they silently thanked God for the embrace of unconsciousness. But they knew this nightmare would still be here when they woke up. 

Before they completely lost touch, they managed to shriek…

~ 

“I’LL TELL YOU!” 

Alex shot out of bed with a whimper. They ware disoriented at first, still babbling through sobs, before their eyes begin to adjust to the darkness. They are in the cell. Goodgrave’s cell. The small skylight above them emanates the soft, bluish glow of early morning hours. Dew drops dot the dirty glass and they become aware of just how cold the room is. The calmness felt eerie and unsettling after such a nightmare. 

Then they looked beside them. 

Seeing Charlie asleep in the bed brought back a tsunami of memories from the day prior. It generated a visceral reaction in them–making their stomach churn in knots and their heart pound even faster. Immediately they bolted off the bed, backing away until they were on the other side of the room. They sunk down to the floor and watched as their enemy remained asleep. 

Charlie had the blanket draped over them but it was thin and raggedy; no match for the icy, winter morning. They shivered and their teeth clattered slightly. They were still covered in blood and bruises from the night before and hugged the broken arm to their stomach. It bent at a disturbing angle and was an angry red color. But what Alex noticed the most was their pallid face. It was drawn down in frown. Grime and blood painted their cheeks. 

Without even thinking about it Alex’s finger softly ghosted along the scar across their face. They stood up and crossed the cell to the small mirror hanging above the dirty, old sink. They’d become used to it by now. Their mind spun in circles, overrun and overwhelmed. 

The prone figure behind them couldn’t hurt them now. Not just because they were asleep, or because they had become weak and sickly after their time with Eric, but because by the time Charlie was taken captive by the Hero’s Alliance eight months prior they were a shell of themselves. The stoic, fearsome interrogator they once knew was replaced by a nervous, obedient individual. Ripley said Charlie seemed genuinely repentant. To the point of self-disgust. Alex refused to believe this. (They did notice the way Charlie avoided looking at themselves in the mirror, and a couple times noticed the scars they tried to hide beneath long sleeves. They noticed it because Alex used to be like that, too. But Alex didn’t care…how could they?) 

“Alex.” 

Alex jumped, startled by the groggy voice, and spun around. Charlie was using their good arm to prop themselves up. They could only open one eye, the other nearly swollen shut and mottled with purple, black splotches. 

“Sorry,” Charlie whispered. They ducked their head as the tips of their ears reddened. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” Alex hummed in response. A moment of awkward silence elapsed. Alex focused on removing a piece of lint from their shirt and did their best to look completely unperterbed despite their recent dream.

 “Are you…um…are you okay?” Charlie asked. 

“I’m fine.” An awkward silence filled the space between them once more. Charlie tried to move from their position but quickly regretted it, hissing as their broken arm was jostled. Cautiously, Alex neared the bed. They shifted their weight as they watched their enemy struggle to sit up. 

Charlie appeared to still be in the throes of a fever. They let themselves fall back on the bed. Their eyes seemed glazed, lids half open and struggling to stay that way. Again, they tried to sit up but only managed to hurt themselves once more. They moaned as their arm burned and their head throbbed with a migraine. 

Alex hesitated momentarily, and then untied the sweatshirt from around their waist. “We need to do a make-shift cast for your arm. It will take some of the weight off it.” 

“Oh no, it’s fine. Really. You keep it. It’s cold in here. Thank you.” 

“No, you need it or it’ll get worse.” 

“I swear I’m fine. You need it, you–” 

Alex huffed stubbornly and began reaching for their enemy anyways. They were taken aback when Charlie flinched. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, you idiot,” Alex bit out, annoyed. I should be the one flinching, not you! They thought to themselves. Resentment bubbled up to the surface and Alex tried to focus on putting villain in a positon where they could make the cast to distract themselves from it. 

“Sorry. I’m really sorry. I don’t know why I did that. It was–yeah. I’m–” 

“Just stop talking, okay?” Alex barked. Charlie bit their lip and nodded ashamedly. 

Alex’s resentment manifested as roughly tending to the villain. Charlie did their best to not make a sound but when Alex harshly man-handled the broken arm into it’s place in the cast they winced and whimpered. 

“Stop whining. You’re the reason we’re in this mess. You should have left when I told you to!” 

“I know…I’m so sorry.” 

“If Team Lead had just listened to me in the first place…ugh. They’re way too nice to you. You don’t deserve their sympathy. Pff. You don’t deserve anything really.” 

“...I–nngghhh–agree,” mumbled Charlie weakly.

“Yeah right. I don’t believe you.” Alex grins as they glance over to see Charlie’s face; they wanted to watch their words hurt in real time. Instead, Alex didn’t feel the joy they expected. They could tell Charlie was holding back tears. One escaped and Charlie hastily wiped it away. 

Something felt wrong in the pit of Alex’s stomach. Their grin quickly dissipated. 

They had finished with the cast and were about to get up when they noticed just how much blood still covered Charlie’s neck and chest. They retrieved and wet a cloth like they had the night before. 

“Let’s clean this up a bit. I don’t like the smell of blood,” they rationalized. Charlie’s eyes were half-mast and they nodded woozily. While wiping their face Alex felt heat radiating off their nemesis’ forehead. 

Charlie swayed slightly and they steadied them. 

“You feeling nauseous?” Charlie shook their head. Alex shot them a look. 

“...A little. But it’s really not that bad. I’m fine.” 

“Here. Drink this. Then you need to lie down.” They took a cup of water they had filled at the sink and made Charlie take a few sips. Alex put their hand behind Charlie’s neck and slowly lowered them. Charlie hissed in pain once more. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be quiet” they reassured. 

Within a few minutes Charlie’s eyes were closed. Alex decided to lay down again and try to get more rest if they could. It was quiet except for the slightly congested breathing coming from Charlie. 

Faintly came the sound of someone whistling. It grew closer and closer until footsteps echoed outside in the hall as well. Charlie’s eyes shot open and they strained to sit up, a look of horror on their face. 

“He’s coming.” 

“It’s probably the guard. Go back to sleep,” Alex warned. 

“NO. It’s...” 

Abruptly, keys rattle in the door and it swings open. Eric Goodgrave’s lanky frame waltzes in and a mischievous smile spreads across his face. 

“Oh goody, you’re both awake! Alex, my dear: may I ask you a personal question?”