Usually, Hero didn’t mind their second job at all. When they spent most of their time in precarious, adrenaline-enducing scenarios, the boring lull of a 9-5 was an (almost) welcoming change of pace. This time was different.
Discovering Villain’s identity was supposed to be a good thing. And it was, Hero agreed internally. It gave them an edge against an enemy who had remained undefeated for months now. As Hero, this was great. As a person trying to just get through their work day, this was horrendous news.
It wasn’t even the fact that Villain was their coworker that upset them. Their job was probably one of the most basic ones out there and there were a handful of roles and employees. It was surprising but not entirely unlucky. But did it have to be them.
It had been almost a year now since they tranferred over from across the country and honestly Hero was impressed that nobody had socked them in the face yet or at the very least found a way to shut them up.
All they ever talked about was Hero. Seriously, nothing else left their lips. ‘Did you see Hero on the news today? There was a fire; oh, was Hero there? Hero saved a burning building a few blocks down from me it was awesome. Honestly I’d kill a guy if it meant Hero would come face me.’
That last part left a particularly sour taste in Hero’s mouth, all things considered.
The hero took in one last deep inhale, willing down the urge to storm into that office building and start throwing punches, and opened the door. Civilian didn’t know Villain was their coworker. So Civilian should act like it.
Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long before Villain entered the scene. Their desks were close together, and the criminal made a conscious effort to be as sociable with their coworkers as humanly possible.
“Civilian! How’re you doing? How was the weekend?” Villain grinned at them, and Hero couldn’t stop the chills that creeped up their back.
Villain had always been an unparalleled criminal when it came to how sinister they were. The mastermind had terrified Hero and their team for around a year now, and they’d grown no closer to overcoming their horror every time they faced off.
Seeing them so cheery, so amicable, so sincere, felt worse than seeing them scowl and brood. They almost felt human.
“Oh, you know, the usual.” Hero forced out from within harshly gritted teeth. They didn’t bother asking how their weekend had been. Half of them didn’t want to know, and the other half knew the response would come no matter what they said.
Deep down, a part of Hero had wished that Villain’s injuries from their last face off would have been too severe, leading to them needing to take a break off of word. But, for some inexplicable reason, that felt mean to think, even though they’d never felt bad wishing ill on a villain before.
That was a thought: how many of Villain’s sick days had been Hero’s fault? How many times had the mastermind called in to complain about catching the flu, when in actuality they were busy fishing a bullet out of their own abdomen?
“I think this weekend might have been the best one of my entire life. Seriously, my heart could have just burst from the excitement!” The inflection and emphasis there didn’t soothe Hero’s anxieties at all.
“So, I went to the conference on Saturday,” they continued. “And Hero noticed me. Like, actually noticed me. I was in the front row — as you know, I always get to events super early — and we made eye contact! Twice!”
Hero’s stomach dropped like a hanged man in the gallows. They’d only just learnt about Villain’s identity moments before being thrust onto stage for a conference. Seeing Villain seconds later, staring right at them, unsettled them greatly. But they hadn’t thought they’d been obvious.
“You really like Hero, huh,” they commented, not entirely meaning to let that slip out. Villain looked noticably confused at that. Wasn’t it obvious?
“No, I talk about them because I hate them so much and I think they’re boring,” they retorted sarcastically, like a friend making fun of Hero’s funnily stupid comment. Like a friend.
Hero squinted slightly at the figure before them, uncharacteristically scrutinising (for Civilian, that is). This certainly wasn’t how they’d ever pictured Villain before, even with the familiarity of their facial features aside.
“You have bags under your eyes. Did you sleep well last night?” Hero stated. Keeping up a cordial work relationship, they told themself. It might be tactical to have Villain’s alter ego trust them.
Villain hadn’t fought a hero within the past three days, them being tired wasn’t to do with Hero’s meddling, so of course it would make sense to check. Maybe they’d find a lead, discover important info on a rival villain. That’s what it was.
“Oh, yeah, sorry, I was up pretty late last night. I promised Coworker I’d help her work through a few files, and you know how she is. Dropped the whole load onto me,” Villain laughed cordially. Hero grimaced internally.
Fuck, they did do that, didn’t they? Villain was an irritable coworker who prattled on endlessly about their own very narrow interests. Hero this— Hero that— et cetera et cetera. But they were far from a hostile one. They offered to help with tedious assignments quite often.
Hero didn’t know whether to soften up or raise their guard. They seemed so authentic, so genuinely willing to help people. It could have all been an act, true, but there was more than little doubt in Hero’s mind about it.
Maybe that was the point, they argued within themself. Maybe Villain knew this whole time, and this was part of a ploy to get Hero to trust them. See, Hero, I’m just as nice and sweet as you are, now hand over the documents.
“You know, we should meet up some time, after work I mean.” Hero regretted the words before they even tumbled out. The last thing they wanted to do was hang out with Villain, even if it meant a tactical advantage. But they needed to know. Needed to scrutinise. Needed to evaluate this threat.
Villain looked equally as shocked.
“Really? Us? I mean, I’m totally free, of course, but you’ve never really seemed that interested in talking outside of work. Trust me, I’ve tried to sway you on that, but you’re always busy or tired.”
They fumbled over their words a bit, seeming eager to accept but aware that eagerness would come across as slightly tacky. Just how much of it was an act, Hero contemplated.
“My, uh, friend told me I should be going out more, getting myself an actual social life.” Not a lie, Sidekick had berated them about their workaholism. “You’ve always been nice to me, despite all your— you know, and I just thought it might be nice to return the favour for once.”
You’ve always been nice to me.
Villain beamed at them and Hero swore they could feel their skin actively creeping, goosebumps swarming like insects spread all over their arms.
They hated Villain. They were a cold, sinister and calculating figure who never even seemed to blink an eye at the atrocities that they’d ensured befell their enemies.
They hated Villain’s alter ego. They were obnoxious and overly talkative, obsessed with a celebrity that would never love them back just to fill some gaping hole inside of them.
This discovery should have exemplified their hatred. How dare Villain prove to be capable of showing sympathy and care only to disregard it when it became inconvenient for the job. How dare they claim to care so much about Hero when they spent their double life carving wounds into their skin.
Instead, Hero was intrigued. They needed to understand this more, to look at Villain’s psyche as a whole and see exactly which parts of the machine had made them them. The facade of the detached criminal mastermind was oh so one dimensional. And they had just proven to be anything but.
“We could meet at one of the coffee shops down the highstreet if you’d like. I know you’re quite peticular about your coffee orders, hah. But I’m flexible with anything, honestly. Uh— except for my place. It’s, um, just so messy there all the time, I’d be embarrassed,” Villain offered.
That last part was clumsy. They didn’t want Hero to be around there because there were probably too many nefarious documents and terrifying armed men at each door. Were they baiting Hero into pushing? Were they worried their new friend might discover their inner self too quickly?
Which one was the inner self, anyways?
“Anything’s fine with me. We can talk more about logistics after the meeting,” Hero glanced down at their lock screen, viscerally aware that they were about to have to speak to a hoarde of potential clients after this fiasco of a morning.
“Oh— right! Right! Your meeting, of course. I forgot, that’s my bad, you should go get prepared for that! I’ll be at my desk if you need me; good luck buddy!” And then Villain was gone, smiling and not at all subtly fistbumping the air.
Fuck. Screw all the life-threatening heroics; this job might actually be the death of them.
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