(TW: Blood, injuries, descriptions of physical assault, tobacco use, alcohol abuse, as well as some other things I'm sure I missed. I'm not perfect. Read at your own risk.)
Even villains need a day off sometimes.
It's hot and breezy outside despite it only being midmorning, and temperatures are likely to soar into the nineties with thunderstorms late in the day. Even inside with the air conditioning on full blast, Riley's feeling sticky with the humidity. It's too miserable outside for any villainy other than maybe pranking his annoying neighbor with a pile of fake dog shit on her lawn, but the only thing Riley plans on doing is lounging in his pool until the sun goes down, then lounging in his pool some more.
He's just finished with his coffee when the weak knock at the door startles him. It's too early for packages, his family doesn't visit him, and the Jehovah's Witnesses in his area don't come in the mornings, so he has no idea who it could be. Needless to say, when his hero nemesis Eclipse is on the other side, bleeding, panting, and delirious, it's a bit of a shock. He's in civilian clothes, although they've been torn to shreds and he's missing a shoe. His white hair looks like it's been shorn off with a knife in some places, patchy and stained maroon with dried blood. His face is bruised badly, he's got a nasty cut along his cheekbone that looks like it might need stitches, and his nose looks to be broken. His shadow flickers in and out behind him, telling Riley just how bad the damage had to be.
"Eclipse?" Riley asks, startled and confused and more than a little worried.
Eclipse blinks at him, slowly, like he's not sure Riley's real, and his shadow flickers away entirely for a moment before coming back, a little paler than normal. Eclipse blinks again, swallows, then mumbles, "...I didn't know where else to go," before his eyes roll up into his head and he collapses into Riley's arms.
Riley's first thought is that for such a short guy, Eclipse is heavy. His second thought is that he should probably drop Eclipse right now and let him die. Hell, he should probably kill Eclipse himself right now. It'd be the villainous thing to do, to slash Eclipse's throat right here and now, drag him above the city in a hovercraft and display his body for everyone to see, to laugh maniacally and shout for the city to look to their hero, to see him bested, to bow before him, but...
He can't. He just stands there for a minute, holding Eclipse's limp body in his arms, listening to his shallow breathing, feeling his too-fast, fluttering heartbeat, in shock and somehow scared for Eclipse's life.
Eclipse also smells really, really strange. A part of Riley's powers involve a superhuman sense of smell, he knows what Eclipse smells like, intimately, but his normal scent of sweat and petrichor is tainted by something bitter, something decidedly not supposed to be there. Had he been poisoned? Cursed? Had someone tried to kill him? Riley's mind races a mile a minute while he hauls Eclipse over his shoulders in a fireman carry, and damn, he's heavy, but he knows if he doesn't do something, Eclipse might not make it more than another hour.
The four-minute elevator ride down to the lair below his house feels like an eternity with two-hundred pounds of injured, deadweight hero slung over his shoulders. He tries to ignore the feeling of hot blood dripping down his back the entire way.
He plops Eclipse onto the emergency cot in his lair, then cuts off the remains of his civvies. He's banged up and bruised pretty badly, with at least half a dozen broken ribs and probably a bruised spleen, but that's not even the worst of it. His torso is littered with cuts, some no bigger than scratches, others deep enough that Riley swears he can almost see organs, along with what looks like a deep puncture wound on his right shoulder, probably from a screwdriver. None of the cuts were clean, civilian work, probably, looking for cash or maybe just a sick thrill, and if Riley sniffs close enough, he can smell infection brewing.
"Shit," he mumbles, running his hands over the wounds. Eclipse's left leg is pretty mangled, as well. Eclipse's ankle is broken, his foot tilted at an odd angle, bone nearly poking through the skin, and the gash in his thigh is deep enough that it's a miracle Eclipse didn't bleed out on the way over, but even so, that's not Riley's main worry.
Eclipse still smells wrong.
Riley swallows the rapidly-forming lump in his throat as he sets a hand over Eclipse's heart, feeling it beat. He branches out, searching, his power coursing through Eclipse's veins until he can pinpoint-
There. In the right side of his neck, there's a pinprick from a needle where someone had dosed him with something, something that makes Riley feel weak for just a moment even though he didn't get dosed. No wonder Eclipse hadn't been able to fight back; they'd given him a power suppressant, and enough of it to nearly kill him.
Eclipse groans weakly in his sleep as if he can feel Riley working, trying to save him. Riley's poison control powers are incredibly strong, the stuff of legend, but he's never tried to pull poison out of someone, let alone a power suppressant. If he doesn't try, though, Eclipse doesn't have a chance.
He can latch onto the poison easily enough, feel every molecule as it races through Eclipse's blood, but it fights him every time he tries pulling it out. He tries pulling it out through Eclipse's wounds, but that only bleeds more. He tries making it into a gas, but Eclipse's temperature rises dangerously high. Finally, he can get it to pass into his stomach, then back through his mouth in a ball of clear liquid tinted red from his blood. It's such a tiny amount, less than a milliliter, but it's enough to knock even the strongest super off their feet for days. A relatively small guy like Eclipse? It could kill him.
Riley's hands shake as he stitches Eclipse's wounds back together. He tries not to gag at the pallor of his skin, the way his breath still shakes on the inhale, at his still-fluttery heartbeat. "Don't die on me now, you bastard," he grunts as he sets Eclipse's broken ankle, "Who will I fight, then, huh? My mother?"
Eclipse doesn't reply, even as Riley jabs him a little too hard with the needle for an IV.
It's a tense, nerve-wracking three days before Eclipse finally wakes up. Riley only notices because he's taken to spending most of his time in the lair rather than up in his house.
A weak groan catches Riley's attention. At first, he thinks it's nothing; maybe Eclipse is dreaming, or he's shifted a little and pushed out some air, but when he hears a quiet mutter of, "Goddamn, this hurts," he rushes over.
Riley gently helps Eclipse sit up, being careful with his injuries. Eclipse still seems pretty out of it, too, trying to rip out his IV and push Riley away. "Steady, Eclipse," Riley says, pushing his hands away, "You're fine. I'm not going to kill you."
Eclipse turns his head to look at Riley, his famous heterochromic eyes bleary and red. "Nightshade?" he mumbles, and that's right, neither of them know each other's real names, but he tries to ignore the way it stings a little.
"Yeah, it's me," Riley tells him, checking his bandages. "You showed up here, all beat up and drugged to the gills, and told me you didn't know where else to go. You get mugged or something?"
"Or something," Eclipse replies, still sounding woozy. "There were...five of them. One had a syringe. They had flood lights, so there weren't any shadows I could sneak off to...god, fuck, that hurts!"
"Because you've got half a dozen broken ribs," Riley , "and probably a bruised spleen. And multiple cuts and a stab wound."
"And a partridge in a pear tree?" Eclipse quips back, trying and failing to make a joke when he swears loudly at Riley moving him so he can sit up on his own.
Eclipse opens his mouth to speak, then makes a face and dry heaves over the side of the cot. Riley considers himself lucky that Eclipse hasn't eaten in at least three days or else he'd have another mess to clean up. He pats Eclipse's back, waiting until he's done heaving to ask if he's alright.
"Do I look alright to you, wiseass?" Eclipse snaps.
"I thought I was supposed to be the one with the witty insults," Riley says drily, patting Eclipse's back one more time before running to go get him a glass of water. "Here," he says, holding the glass out, "Can you drink it on your own or do you need me to hold it?"
Eclipse tries to hold the glass, but his hands are shaking like a leaf. He sighs heavily, then begrudgingly, "You hold it." Eclipse takes a few tentative sips of water, barely a fourth of the glass, but he looks refreshed after. "Thanks."
Riley grunts in response, setting the glass down on a nearby table.
"I mean it," Eclipse says after a beat, so quiet Riley can hardly hear him, "Thank you."
"Yeah, well," Riley manages, "I like kicking your ass when we fight."
Eclipse huffs out a weak little laugh. "Name one time you actually beat me."
"There was that time on the bridge!"
"That doesn't count. You didn't get me, Killer Bee did, and even then they were barely able to get me. Swarming makes lots of shadows."
Riley grumbles, but doesn't reply.
"Seriously, though," Eclipse continues, his tone more serious, "I really, really mean it. You took me in, patched me up, looked after me while I was out, and you didn't have to do any of that. You could've just killed me where I stood when I passed out on you."
Riley's mouth feels dry. "I thought about it," he admits, unable to look Eclipse in the eye.
"Why didn't you?" Eclipse asks after a moment of tense silence.
"Dunno," Riley replies, then offers Eclipse another sip of water, which he takes. "You should probably try to get more rest. Your body's working hard to heal. I'll change your bandages later and come back with something to eat."
Eclipse just nods, letting Riley lean him back onto the cot and almost immediately falling asleep.
Riley comes back a few hours later with a glass of watered-down apple juice and a bowl of lukewarm vegetable broth. Eclipse is already awake, sitting up and looking around Riley's lair. When he notices Riley walking in from the elevator, he says, "You've got terrible taste, you know that?"
"Glad to see you're feeling better, asshole."
"I'm not, and your interior decorating isn't helping."
Riley raises an eyebrow. "If you're not feeling better, then I guess I'll just take this food and-"
Eclipse sighs dramatically, but waves him over. "It's fine, I can deal with it for now. Bring it over."
Riley sets the tray on Eclipse's lap. Once again, he has to help Eclipse with the apple juice, but Eclipse is able to spoon the broth to his mouth with little assistance. "What is this?"
"No, I mean what kind? It tastes so bad I can't tell."
"You know, insulting me isn't going to help you," Riley sighs, taking the tray from Eclipse's lap, "but it's vegetable broth from the grocery store. Don't insult Kroger like that, they didn't do anything to you."
Eclipse chuckles weakly, then laughs a little, before coughing loudly. Riley pats his back again. When he finally starts breathing easy again, Eclipse says, "That's fucking hilarious."
Eclipse wheeze-chuckles, coughs once, then continues. "The idea of you going to the grocery store. A fucking Kroger of all things. You, infamous supervillain Nightshade, who's destroyed cities before all in the name of villainy, going to the store to buy broth."
"I know, I know, but I always figured you'd be the type to get delivery all the time, or just, I dunno, eat the souls of Polish orphans or something. There's something kinda funny about the idea of you making a pot of soup at the stove."
Riley cracks a smile. "I guess there is. I certainly can't imagine you cooking anything."
Eclipse shrugs. "I don't, really. I never learned. My mom cooked for me all the time when I still lived with her, and when I moved out, my girlfriend cooked for me. I just...never bothered."
"I didn't know you had a girlfriend," Riley says, somehow miffed.
"I have a life outside of you," Eclipse says, elusive, then, "and I don't have one. Not anymore."
"Oh." They sit in awkward silence for perhaps a moment too long. "I should...let you get some more rest," Riley finally says, taking the empty bowl back from Eclipse's hands.
"Yeah," Eclipse agrees, "yeah, you should do that."
The next morning, Riley finds Eclipse sitting on the edge of the bed, the tips of his toes just brushing the floor. A little bit of color has returned to his face, and he looks lost in thought. "Good morning," Riley greets, "I brought coffee. It's decaf and also very burnt, but I figured you might still enjoy it."
Eclipse ignores him, as if Riley hadn't said anything. He screws up his face and scoots forward on the edge of the bed until his feet are flat on the ground. He shifts his weight as if to stand, and Riley nearly drops the coffee mugs he's carrying to stop him. "Oh, no you don't! Get back on the bed, motherfucker, get-" he cuts himself off as he grabs Eclipse by the shoulders and hauls him back onto the bed, careful not to aggravate his injuries.
"What was that for?" Eclipse grumbles after a minute of fighting, "I need to piss."
"There's a bucket beside the bed for a reason. Unless you'd rather I put the catheter back in?"
"I...really don't want to think about you that close to my dick ever again. And I'm not pissing in a bucket when I can just get up and walk ten feet to the bathroom."
Riley raises an eyebrow at him and picks up the cup of coffee from the floor. "You've got a broken ankle and a blood sugar of like, negative four. I don't think you can walk ten inches."
Eclipse pouts, but reaches down to pick up the bucket. Riley politely turns around while he pisses in the bucket, then gives him hand sanitizer after. Eclipse doesn't even thank him. Rude.
"You still gonna give me that coffee?" Eclipse gripes after a moment, watching Riley slurp his own.
Riley makes a show of contemplating, but gives Eclipse the other cup, then laughs at the face he makes. "God, that's vile."
"I told you it was burnt."
A week into Eclipse's healing, Riley's already sick of him. He's strong enough to hobble around the lair on crutches, now, with his broken ankle in a boot. He stands over Riley's shoulder and nags at him when he tries to anything evil, villainous, or even mildly entertaining.
"Nightshade, you can't just put poison into the guacamole at that Chipotle."
"And why can't I? It's not even a deadly poison. They'll be fine."
"Because it could still kill someone!"
"It's a Chipotle. Chipotle already gives you food poisoning. What I'm going to do is a kindness compared to that. Have you ever eaten Chipotle?"
"That's not funny, Nightshade."
"...Okay, it's a little funny. But you still shouldn't do it!"
Riley pretends to think about it. "How about I do it anyway?"
Eclipse lets out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. Riley throws up his hands in surrender. "Fine! Fine, whatever, I won't. God, you're no fun."
"I'm a hero," Eclipse oh-so-helpfully reminds him, "It's my job to make sure you, a villain, don't do anything bad."
Riley grumbles for a moment. "Yeah, yeah, you're the fun police, I get it." Riley rubs at his temples; Eclipse is a real headache even when he's not actively trying to kill Riley. "I'm gonna go outside and smoke. You...just stay here."
Eclipse makes a funny noise in the back of his throat. "Actually, do you mind if I join you?"
"I heard you," Riley gripes, "but why the hell do you want to join me, especially when I'm smoking to get away from you? I barely even smoke, anyway. You're making me smoke, Eclipse."
"I'm asking to join you because I haven't been outside in a week and the sunlight sounds nice."
"Potato, po-tah-to. And I'm a social smoker."
Riley huffs out a humorless laugh. "Really? Eclipse the good boy hero, smoking cigarettes? What's next, you kick puppies and hate Christmas?"
"Shut up and let me smoke."
Riley sighs, but opens the elevator and lets Eclipse hobble into it with him. Four minutes has never felt so long.
Riley's nice enough to set up a pool chair for Eclipse so that he can lounge without too much trouble. True to his word, it's cloudy, and the air is sticky and humid with the scent of incoming rain. Eclipse takes a long, deep breath. "God, I missed this."
"Don't get to used to it," Riley warns, tapping a cigarette out of the pack, "you really shouldn't be moving around this much yet. You're still healing, and being outside like this increases your risk for infection."
"I don't even care," Eclipse sighs out, stretching his arms over his head and going limp in the chair. "Pass me one."
Riley lights up his own cigarette, then throws the pack and the lighter at Eclipse. "Do it yourself."
Eclipse mock-pouts. "But I'm injured."
"Then don't smoke. It's bad for you."
Eclipse huffs out a little chuckle, then starts laughing. "What's so funny, Eclipse?"
Eclipse's laughter dies down. "It's just kind of funny that you of all people are warning me about the dangers of smoking, Mr. Poison Powers."
Riley takes a drag, blows the smoke out of his nose. "Yeah, well. If I really wanted to, I could pull the poison out."
Eclipse takes his own cigarette and lights up. He smokes for a moment, giving Riley a strange look, before finally saying, "So why don't you?"
Riley gives a dry little laugh of his own. "I don't know if I'm ready to unpack that with anyone other than my therapist, let alone with you."
Eclipse cackles. "You have a therapist?"
"I had one. She retired and I never bothered with another."
Eclipse stops cackling and has the decency to look sheepish. "Sorry."
Riley takes a long drag off his cigarette and shrugs. "Life happens. Nothing you can do about it but just keep going."
Eclipse hums. "That's...actually really wise of you to say, Nightshade. I didn't think you were capable of wisdom like that."
"Thanks, I think. I learned it from my therapist."
Eclipse bursts out laughing, like the jackass he is, and Riley can't help but join him.
Less than twenty-four hours after their cigarette day, Eclipse's health takes a nosedive.
"Eclipse?" Riley calls when he gets down to the lair, pancakes in hand. "I brought breakfast." No response. "Eclipse?" Maybe he's asleep?
Sure enough, Eclipse is curled up on the bed, blankets shucked off, hair mussed, and Riley's about to shove him awake, berate him for being lazy, before he notices the smell.
The plate of pancakes shatters on the floor when Riley drops it, but he hardly hear it. He rushes to Eclipse's side, settling a hand on his forehead. He's boiling hot, and his skin is lobster-red. He's shivering, too, like he's freezing, and his breathing is shallow and unsteady. Riley checks him over, shoving his clothes out of the way until-
There. It's the slash on his thigh that's the culprit. It's swollen and inflamed, leaking pus from around the stitches and the skin is pink and hot to the touch. It smells foul, like the infection's been brewing for weeks rather than just a few days, and Riley wonders how neither of them caught it before.
Eclipse gives a weak groan. "Nishay?" He grumbles, delirious with fever, his eyes glassy and unfocused. "Wha..."
"Shut up," Riley snaps, cleaning the wound with iodine and preparing to redo the stitches, while running through every possible medication he could give to Eclipse to stop the infection. "Just shut up, you're sick."
"'S hot," he mumbles, "my leg...hurts."
Riley bats Eclipse's weak hands away when he tries to push him away. "Hey, stop it. I'm trying to help you, you ungrateful shit."
Eclipse crinkles his nose in annoyance. It's definitely not cute.
Riley cleans the frankly disgusting wound and redoes the stitches, which is no easy feat with this amount of festering infection. He hooks Eclipse up to an IV, then checks his temperature with a thermometer. 104°. Fucking shit.
Antibiotics. He needs antibiotics. Riley knows he's got a stash of them down here somewhere, stolen from a hospital, but where?
Riley tears apart his lair trying to find them. His hands shake when he adds them to the IV bag, and he prays to every god he can think of that they work.
It's touch and go for nearly a week, with Eclipse's fever spiking to 106° at its highest. He had screamed so much that day, at monsters only he could see, begging Riley to kill them, to make the monsters go away, and, at one terrifying point, to kill him.
One night, he calls Riley by a woman's name.
Riley stops dead where he's topping up Eclipse's IV.
"Kenzie, c'mere. I wanna hold you."
"Kenzie, please," Eclipse says weakly, reaching out for Riley. "I wanna hold you. C'mere."
Eclipse looks so, so tired. His face is flushed and he's sweating a little bit. His fever has settled at 103° for now, but he still seems to be hallucinating. Maybe the ex-girlfriend he had mentioned? "Kenzie..."
Riley feels his chest clench a little. Eclipse is delirious, hallucinating, fevered, sick, and he's reaching out for a woman who doesn't love him anymore for some sort of comfort. Riley debates for a minute, wondering if what he's about to do is wrong somehow, before he gives in. He sets down everything he was holding and moves to sit beside Eclipse on the cot. He gently strokes Eclipse's damp, greasy hair where it spreads out on the pillow beside him, then leans down to let Eclipse wrap his arms around him.
"Kenzie..." he says again, breathing into Riley's hair. "Kenzie, I'm sorry."
Riley stops breathing for a moment. He can't speak.
"Kenzie, I'm so sorry," Eclipse is crying, now, fat, ugly tears that roll down his flushed cheeks, like he can't stop. "I love you, Kenzie. I miss you."
Riley's heart pounds when Eclipse pulls away a little and settles one clammy hand against his cheek. "I love your red hair," Eclipse says, sniffing and setting a hand in Riley's hair, "and I'm sorry."
Riley wants to ask, but he's worried he might set Eclipse off crying again. He just smiles and gently sets Eclipse's hand back on the bed. "Sleep, Eclipse," he says, shushing Eclipse when he starts to panic, "you need rest."
Eclipse is asleep again before Riley leaves the lair. God, Riley needs a drink.
It takes time, but Eclipse slowly starts coming back around. He's fully coherent after nine days, and his fever breaks completely on the tenth.
"It'll take time to get your strength back," Riley tells Eclipse while he helps him get back on his crutches, "but you pulled through. Barely, but you pulled through."
Eclipse nods and adjusts himself on the crutches. "That's a relief," he says after a moment, then, quietly, "You could've killed me. This is twice now, when I've been completely helpless in your grasp, and twice now you've nursed me back to health," Eclipse gives him a strange look. "Why?"
Riley shrugs. "I...don't know," he says, and it's the truth. This time around, killing Eclipse never even crossed his mind. He was just so worried, like Eclipse dying would ruin him, somehow.
"I'd kill you," Eclipse says, after a second of tense silence. "I'd kill you in a heartbeat." Somehow, he doesn't sound so sure.
"Hmm. Good to know at least one of us has the balls to do it."
"I'm just shocked you don't."
Riley swallows drily. "Yeah, me too."
The next time Riley goes for a smoke, Eclipse follows him again.
"Who's Kenzie?" Riley asks once they light up, the woody smell of tobacco perfuming the air.
Eclipse tenses, setting down the pack of smokes on the little table beside him. He takes a long drag and lets out a long stream of smoke. "Where'd you hear that name?"
"You kept asking for her when you were sick. I think you thought I was her." Riley politely leaves out the bit where Eclipse begged Riley to hold him.
Eclipse huffs. "Well, you both have red hair. I guess it's an easy mistake to make when you're fighting for your life. She's my ex. We were together for...god, five years."
"Yeah. It was...messy. She and I started fighting a lot towards the end. It seemed like no matter what I did, it was never enough for her."
"It..." Eclipse shifts uncomfortably in his chair, like he doesn't want to say anything, "She wanted me to go public with our relationship. She didn't want to just be my civilian girlfriend anymore, she wanted to be Eclipse's girlfriend. Kenzie wanted the fame of dating a hero, but she didn't understand what that could mean for her. I tried to explain how dangerous that was, but she wouldn't listen. It's like all she saw was the glamor of fame without understanding how she would be putting her life in danger. Nightshade, every hero who has ever had a public romantic relationship has had that relationship end in tragedy. Every villain, too. I didn't want that for her, it'd kill me if she died, but..."
Eclipse laughs, but it sounds like he might cry. "Nope. She wouldn't. We got into so many fights about it. The last few weeks, it seemed like all we did was fight. She threatened to reveal my identity if I didn't go public with us, or if I broke up with her, but I called her bluff. I left her. I just couldn't take the fighting anymore, so I packed my bags and left."
Eclipse looks like he wants to say more, but Riley doesn't push. "I'm sorry," he offers pathetically, "I've...never been in a serious relationship before, so I don't really know how any of that feels, but it has to suck."
Eclipse huffs out a laugh and drags off his cigarette. "Yeah, that about covers it. Fuckin' sucked."
They smoke in silence for a while before Eclipse pipes up. "You've never been in a relationship before?"
Riley shakes his head. "Nothing serious. I had a couple flings when I was younger, and there was almost something with this one guy before I dropped out of college, but nothing ever worked out. God, how pathetic is that? I'm pushing thirty and I haven't had so much as a boyfriend in half a decade."
Riley scoffs and flicks ash in Eclipse's direction. "No, dumbass, I turned twenty-eight in April. I'm almost thirty."
Eclipse hums. "I thought you were younger, honestly."
"Thanks, I think. Doesn't make it any less pathetic. I'm still sad and lonely."
Eclipse sighs dramatically. "Such is the life of a villain. Sucks to suck, doesn't it?" He blows a smoke ring. "Hey, at least you're not completely alone. You've got your right hand and the internet, don't you?"
Riley gags. "Fucking gross, dude!" Eclipse just cackles, even when Riley throws the pack of cigarettes at his chest.
Against his will, Riley starts cackling with him.
"Hey," Eclipse wheezes once they've calmed down, "if it makes you feel any better, I broke up with Kenzie seven months ago, and I'm still not over it. Who's pathetic, now?"
"That's different," Riley argues, snubbing his cigarette on the concrete beside him, "you spent like, twenty percent of your life with that girl. Five years is serious. Stand-up hero type like you? Shocked you didn't put a ring on it."
"I thought about it," Eclipse says seriously, "I started looking at rings before she really started pushing to go public. God, I would...I would daydream about what our kids would be like. If they'd have her red hair, or if they'd have powers." Eclipse burns his cigarette down to the filter, then snubs it. "Guess that just goes to show nothing ever goes to plan."
It's a grueling process, but slowly, surely, Eclipse gets his health back. More than that, there's other little changes that Riley's noticed. Eclipse had lost a significant amount of weight when he'd had the infection, and the weight he'd gained back was...different. Before, he'd been bulky and muscular, cut lean without an ounce of fat on him. Now, there's a roundness in his cheeks, a softness in his belly, a fullness in his thighs that wasn't there before. He's not out of shape, by any means, but in this strange, pseudo-domestic environment with Riley cooking him decent meals, his body has changed to something a little bit softer to look at.
His hair has grown out, as well, a shock of dark brown roots against the mess of white.
"I didn't know you bleached your hair," Riley said one afternoon over cigarettes and sandwiches.
"Yeah, well," Eclipse said dismissively, "I started doing hero work when I was like, sixteen, and I thought the white hair looked cool, y'know? And by the time I'd really gotten noticed, it was iconic, and people thought it looked striking with my dark clothes, so, here I am, ten years later, still bleaching my hair. Hell, I'm lucky to have hair at all."
"Yeah, in December. Why?"
Riley didn't say that he thought Eclipse was older. He didn't mention the stress lines in his forehead, or the frown lines around his mouth. "Just curious, I guess. I'm almost three years older than you."
"Funny how things like that work out, huh? We could've gone to the same high school."
"Doubt it. I lived in the middle of nowhere for for-fucking-ever before I got my powers and started hero work."
"I never asked," Riley said gently, knowing his own power discovery was...traumatizing, to say the least, "but how did you discover your powers?"
Eclipse flushed and looked away. "It's kind of embarrassing. I was taking a piss and melted into my own shadow. I ended up in the woods two miles away with my pants around my ankles and my dick out, pissing into the creek with no idea how I'd gotten there. It took a really, really long time to figure out how to control it. I was...fourteen when that first happened, and sixteen before I had full control. What about you?"
Riley felt the tension in his spine before Eclipse was even done speaking. The air turned sour with the scent of poison as his powers flared up, turning the pool into liquid death. Even Eclipse's dull nose crinkled. "I don't like talking about it."
"Yeah," Riley said, "that bad."
"Mom, I didn't... I swear I didn't-"
"You shut your mouth!" Mom hissed, her eyes flashing like a bomb, and Riley was only twelve, he didn't mean to, he would never hurt Lindsay, "you shut your goddamned mouth right this second!" Mom clutched little Lindsay to her chest. Lindsay's face was blue, her glassy eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. "How could you?"
"Poison! You poisoned your sister, you-"
"Nightshade. Nightshade. Nightshade!"
Riley shook himself out of his flashback. His hands were shaking, and his heart was pounding its way out of his ribs. "You okay?" Eclipse asked, voice heavy with a strange sort of concern.
"Yeah," Riley choked out, voice shaking, "just zoned out, I guess. Don't worry about it."
"If you say so," Eclipse said, but he didn't sound convinced.
"I need to start practicing with my powers again," Eclipse says one evening while Riley's making dinner, and it startles him so much he nearly drops the pot of mushroom soup on his foot.
"You heard me," Eclipse says nonchalantly, standing up (he's very proud of himself for not needing crutches anymore, and takes great joy in annoying Riley by clomping loudly around the house in his boot) and taking the pot from Riley's hands, setting it on a cool spot on the stove. "I need to get my powers back. You said I got dosed with a power suppressant, right?" Eclipse, like the jackass he is, takes a bowl from Riley's cabinet and helps himself to some soup. He talks with his mouth full. Gross. "So I need to get my strength back up. Plus, you're still running around doing villainy-"
"No, I'm not. I've been too busy babysitting you. It was literally in the papers this morning that I've been missing."
Eclipse keeps going like Riley hadn't said anything. "-So, I have to keep my strength up to keep you in check."
"I haven't been doing anything but babying you, asshole," Riley reminds him, taking the bowl of soup from Eclipse's hands. "And don't talk with your mouth full. Fucking gross. I thought I was the villain here."
"My point still stands," Eclipse argues, taking the bowl back once more, "I need to keep my strength up, and I think I'm well enough to try using my powers again. Nothing crazy, but...I'd like to at least try to use my own shadow, see if I can still melt into it."
"I'd let you," Riley says, reaching for his own bowl, "but I think it's in my best interests as a villain to not do that."
"It was in your best interests as a villain to kill me when I showed up," Eclipse deadpans.
Eclipse sips the broth of his soup and makes a face. "Needs salt. Anyway, I think I'm well enough to start training again. You'll need to be there, of course, in case I eat shit-"
"If that happens, I'm laughing."
"-and to make sure I don't, you know, really hurt myself again."
"I'll be sure to carry Band-Aids," Riley promises, "you want me to kiss all your boo-boos, too?"
"Ha-ha, very funny," Eclipse reaches around where Riley's leaning against the corner counter to grab the salt shaker. "Seriously, though. You and I both know it's not good for me to let my powers get rusty. They'll start acting up, and I'll end up stranded in Siberia or something."
"That does tend to happen," Riley agrees begrudgingly, "and I don't think you'd do well in a gulag. We'll start tomorrow."
"Really?" Eclipse sounds unreasonably excited. If Riley looks close enough, he can almost see Eclipse's metaphorical tail wagging behind him.
"Yeah. I don't want you to end up in Siberia-"
"I would not do well in a gulag."
"-so it's probably for the best."
As Riley finds out the next morning, it is most definitely not for the best, but good lord, is it hilarious.
"It's not funny, asshole," Eclipse pants, his shadow flickering in front of him. He's backlit, right now, in hopes that seeing his shadow might make melting into it easier, but he's had no luck.
"It's a little funny," Riley quips, watching as Eclipse tries again to melt into his shadow. His feet, boot included, turn black and start to fade away at the edges, the way his body normally goes fuzzy right before he slips into the shadows, but nothing more happens. Riley stops him before he goes too pale, though, and offers him a bottle of water and a tissue for the fine trickle of blood beginning to leak from his nose.
"Thanks," Eclipse pants out after downing the water, pressing the tissue to his nose. "God, this sucks. I haven't been without powers since I was fourteen."
"Yeah," Eclipse sighs, "that time in my life is kinda fuzzy, since I had some shit going on at home, but...my powers were always there for me, you know? Even if I couldn't really control them, they were a nice constant, you know?"
Riley doesn't know, but he nods anyway, and ignores the creeping feeling in the back of his neck when he thinks about his own power discovery.
Riley's been running for so long now. How many days? Weeks? Months? Fuck, has it been a year? Is he thirteen now? Or even fourteen? He doesn't know. He's been wandering back alleys and woods, scrounging garbage, picking pockets, and sleeping beneath Dumpsters. He's lucky he hasn't frozen to death.
He ran out of the house when Mom started throwing plates at his head, calling him a monster, still cradling Lindsay to her chest. "You poisoned her!" She shouted, throwing plate after plate, and then throwing forks when she ran out of plates. "Get out!" She shouted, spit flying from her mouth, hysterical. "Get the fuck out, you monster! You killed your sister, you-" and Riley was already running out of the house.
Riley isn't stupid. He's seen the missing persons posters, describing him as a disturbed young man, a runaway, possibly a super, with unknown powers, who killed his sister in cold blood and ran off.
Is that what Riley is now?
When the flashlight shines in his face, he throws up an arm and scoots away, thinking that maybe this Dumpster was taken, and whatever homeless person lived here was going to shoo him away, and he'd have to find somewhere else to sleep.
It's not a homeless person. It's a police officer, with a kind expression and a hand on his weapon. "Hey, son," he says, with the kind of false calm that sets Riley's nerves on edge, "I'm not gonna hurt you. We just wanna talk."
"Nightshade?" Eclipse's voice knocks him back to reality. "You zone out again?"
"Yeah," Riley says, rubbing at his eyes, "yeah, I guess I did."
"You've been doing that a lot, lately," Eclipse says, and if Riley didn't know better, he'd say Eclipse sounds worried. "You should get that checked out. My mom had absence seizures a lot like that, and she had a grand mal seizure a few years back that nearly killed her. It's seriously freaking me out.
"I'm not worried about it," Riley dismisses, "it's nothing."
Riley continues training Eclipse back to his full power, against all instincts of self-preservation. It's a week of training before Eclipse can even jump, and he's only able to get ten feet, from his own shadow in the middle of the room to Riley's against the wall. This close, he can smell the sharp tang of Eclipse's sweat, can feel the heat of his body, can smell his sugary morning coffee on his hot breath. He holds himself upright for a moment, then collapses into Riley's chest, panting. "This feels familiar," he jokes, but it doesn't land with how hard he's panting.
"Yeah," Riley sighs, shifting a little so Eclipse is holding more of his own weight. They stay like that for a moment, and just when Eclipse is starting to get a little too heavy to comfortably hold, he moves to stand on his own. "You good?"
"Yeah," Eclipse sighs out, definitely not sounding good, "Yeah, I'm good." He shakes his head like a dog shaking off water, then, "I'm gonna go again."
"I don't think that's-" but Eclipse has melted into his own shadow before Riley can tell him how bad of an idea that is. "He's an idiot," Riley mumbles to himself, "he's trying to kill himself."
It takes longer, this time, but Eclipse finally phases back in the shadow of Riley's hovercraft. He's pale, but looks a far cry better than he did the first time. "That was stupid of you." Riley says.
"Maybe," Eclipse wheezes out, "but I feel better than I did the first time."
Eclipse gives a weak head nod, then steps out of the shadow. "Water?"
Riley guides Eclipse to a chair, then hands him a cold bottle of water from the mini-fridge. While Eclipse takes slow sips, Riley asks, "So...where do you, like...go when you phase into the shadows?"
"Like, when you're not here, on this plane of reality. What's it like?"
Eclipse pauses, contemplating. "I...can't really explain it that well. It's almost like I'm ceasing to exist, but there's a level of awareness I have in the shadows that isn't there when I'm here. It's like...lucid dreaming, almost, even though I can't see anything. The awareness helps me navigate, know where I'm going. The longer I'm gone, though..." Eclipse pulls a face, almost embarrassed, "the less likely I am to go to the right place. And usually, the further I go, the longer I'm gone. Like if I tried to go to Beijing, I might end up in Beijing, but I might also end up in Shanghai, or somewhere in Kazakhstan if I'm really unlucky."
"So you're fully aware when you melt into the shadows?"
"Pretty much, yeah. I can feel my body become the shadows, can feel my physical form come back when I phase back into reality. It's interesting, to say the least, and was actually pretty uncomfortable at first."
"So what it's like for you? When you do your poison shit, I mean."
"Can't really compare it to anything," Riley grunts, snatching the water bottle away from Eclipse and taking a sip, "it's not like you could compare it to anything."
"That bottle has my spit in it, by the way."
"You used my toothbrush for like a week and didn't say anything," Riley deadpans, "I think sharing water with you the least of my worries."
"You still didn't really answer my question," Eclipse pushes, stealing the water back.
"Because I can't!" Riley snaps, and the water in the bottle turns acid green. Riley tries to stop it, he does, but-
The officer was kind enough to bring him a cheeseburger and fries from Wendy's. It's the freshest food Riley's had since he ran away, and he wolfs it down like he'll never see food again. For all he knows, he might not.
"Slow down, kid, you'll make yourself sick," the officer says when Riley nearly gags himself on the burger, slapping him none-too-gently on the back when he coughs from eating too fast. The officer sets down a sweating bottle of water beside him, which Riley wastes no time in cracking open and chugging half of. "You okay, son?" the officer asks, sitting down in the chair across from him and setting down his own water bottle. "Don't drown yourself, now," he laughs at his own joke, "I can't talk to you if you're dead."
Riley doesn't laugh. "What do you want?"
The officer, whose badge reads N. Moore, slaps the file he was holding down on the table. On it is a slip that reads Bell, Riley J., as well as his birthday. Moore opens it, and there's a stack of papers an inch thick. "I just want to talk, son."
The questions are about what Riley was expecting, confirming his name, his birthday, and how old he is (he is fourteen now, he wasn't sure before. It's hard to keep up with the date on the run, he's learned.) Then, Moore asks him, "Riley. Son, can you do things you can't explain?"
"I'm not a super," Riley denies, "I'm not."
"Says here you might be," Moore says, pointing to a note that mentions possible unknown powers. "I'm inclined to believe the file, in this case."
"Well, the file's lying," Riley snaps, already getting heated, "I'm not a fucking super."
"Hey, watch it, kid. I'm authorized to use nonlethal force if I have to," Moore says, hand reaching for his holster. "I don't want to have to taser a kid, but I will."
Riley puts on a brave face, but his heart starts pounding. "Well, I'm still not a super, whether you taser me or not. I'm nothing special."
Moore just nods placatingly, then leans back in his chair and flips to a new page in the file. It's a copy of Riley's birth certificate. "Says here you don't know who your father is."
"It wouldn't," Moore says slowly, "if you weren't a super. Your mother isn't a super. Your sister didn't live long enough to develop powers if she was, poor thing." Something in Riley's chest aches at that. "And you. We ran your DNA in the system. Found your dad in a prison upstate. He's a super. Low-powered, never got into any villainy or did any good with it, but he's a super, alright."
"That doesn't mean anything," Riley says hotly, "just because my dad is supposedly some weak-ass super doesn't mean I'm a super. That's not how that works."
"Watch it," Moore says again, "and again, I'm not very inclined to believe you right now. Your sister's autopsy found poison in her bloodstream. Poison that nobody outside of the government should have access to, let alone some twelve-year-old kid in Montana. Your mom said that you made her the lemonade that killed her, and, well... the rest is history."
"I didn't kill Lindsay," Riley says, his heart nearly pounding its way out of his chest, "I didn't do anything! I just made her a drink. She said she was thirsty, and I made her a drink because I love my sister. I wouldn't kill her!"
"Your sister's dead, kid," Moore deadpans, "and you killed her. Didn't you."
"No," Riley nearly shouts, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks, "I could never hurt Lindsay. Sure she's annoying and steals my stuff and-and she's a brat but she's my sister. I'd never hurt my sister!"
"Quit lying to me!" Moore shouts, standing up from his seat, chair squeaking on the ground behind him. Riley's heart pounds faster, and his crying becomes hysterical. "And quit your blubbering, boy, you and I both know you're just puttin' on a show. Why'd you do it, huh? Why'd you kill your sister?"
"I didn't!" Riley sobs out, scooting his chair away from Moore. "I didn't mean to, I just-"
"I thought you didn't kill her at all."
Riley sobs harder. "I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! I love my sister! I never wanted to hurt her!"
"Stop lying to me!" Moore punches the table, and Riley jumps back. "You murdered your sister. That's what your mother told us, and you just admitted to it."
"But you did," Moore says, sitting back down, "you just did. Even if you didn't mean to, that's still a manslaughter charge. Your mom wants you charged for murder, though. Killin' your poor sister, I agree with her. You might be lookin' at life, kid, in a prison for souped-up freaks like you."
"I'm not a super!" Riley denies again, tears falling faster. In the corner of his vision, his water, still open, turns a violent shade of green. "And I didn't kill my sister! It was an accident!"
"Make up your mind kid," Moore says, reaching for his water, "did you not do it? Or was it an accident?"
Riley can't seem to stop crying. He can smell the water, or what it's become, in the back of his mind. "I..." he says, wiping at his eyes. "I never wanted to hurt her."
"You keep saying that," Moore says, "but it's not helping you. Come on, kid. Spit it out."
Riley makes a hurt little sound in the back of his throat, reaching for the bottle of water, as if to take a drink. Moore tracks the movement with his eyes, which widen upon seeing the color of the liquid inside. "The hell did you do to that water?" He shouts, reaching for his taser, but Riley's faster. He throws the putrid liquid into Moore's face, and it starts steaming on contact with his flesh. Moore screams and falls to the floor in agony, clutching his face. Riley takes the opportunity to snatch the keys from his keychain and unlock the door, running out into the main part of the police station.
He doesn't make it far. Riley doesn't even know what he was thinking, pulling a stunt like that, but when he's tasered and falls to the ground, spasming, writhing in pain with three officers aiming their guns at him and a fourth pinning him down, he knows it was something stupid. He screams, yelling for help when the officer pinning him locks his hands in cuffs, then screams louder when he feels the needles puncture his skin. A power suppressant starts coursing through him, a dose low enough that it won't do any real damage, but high enough to make sure he doesn't try something.
Not that he even knows what he's doing with his newfound powers.
"Ma'am," one of the officers says when a pair of women's sneakers enter Riley's field of vision, "ma'am, please step away from the super. We don't know what he's capable of. Ma'am-"
"Enough," the woman says, and Riley starts struggling faster.
"Mom," he says, desperately trying to get a look at her face, trying to find the words to say to her, but all that comes out is, "Mama, help."
"That's enough, Riley," Mom says coolly, "stop struggling. You know what you did."
"Stop, please," she says, and Riley can hear the tears in her voice. "Just stop it, Riley. You killed your sister," she says it with a sort of finality in her voice, the same sort of finality it held when Riley was four and she was giving him an ass-whooping for getting into her makeup, the same sort of finality it held when he was twelve and ditching school, "and you need to make amends."
"Mama, no..." Riley sobs out, but she's already stepping away. "Mama!" He shouts when the officers haul him upright, but she doesn't turn back to look at him. "Mama!" He shouts louder, but she pretends she doesn't hear him.
Someone's shaking him. They're saying something, whoever it is, and Riley's not sure-
"Nightshade. Nightshade, come on, man you're scaring me. Nightshade!"
Riley shakes himself out of the flashback. He's shivering, his heart is pounding, and he feels out of breath like he's just run a marathon. The word "mama" stains his tongue like blood.
Eclipse guides him to a chair, then sets him down. He's handed a fresh bottle of water, and Eclipse sits down in a chair across from him. He lets Riley compose himself and take a few sips of water before he talks. "You didn't just zone out, did you?"
"No," Riley admits, "I didn't."
"You started shouting," Eclipse says, "for your mother."
"Mm-hmm," Eclipse confirms, "it really freaked me out. Nightshade...is there something you're not telling me?"
"There's a lot of things I'm not telling you."
"Ha ha, very funny, Nightshade," Eclipse says, "but seriously. I've started to think of you as more of a... god, I hate saying this, but I've started to see you as a friend. Despite everything you've done as a villain, you're a good person, Nightshade, there's just something you won't tell me and it's eating at you."
"You're my friend," Riley says, "my...weird, nemesis, wants-me-dead, situationship-type friend, but you're my friend, not my therapist. It's not your job to listen to my woes."
"Yeah, but still. You shouldn't just let this eat at you, Nightshade. It's gonna come back to bite you eventually."
"Well, eventually hasn't come yet," Riley quips, setting down the bottle of water, "so I don't have to worry about it. I'm going to go smoke, you coming with?"
"That's not how probability works," Eclipse gripes, but follows him out to the pool anyway.
The air is just starting to turn crisp with the promises of a chilly autumn. The leaves haven't started turning, but there's a kiss of yellow at the edges of a few that promise bright colors come fall.
"So," Eclipse says once they light up, "when do you think I'll be out of this boot?"
"Dunno," Riley breathes out, "you're still healing, and you could hurt yourself even more if you're not healed before I let you out. It'll be a little while."
"Damn, that sucks," Eclipse curses, taking a long drag, "I just really want to get back to hero work. There been anything in the papers about me missing yet?"
"Yeah, some stuff wondering if you're dead. Some stuff wondering if I'm dead, too."
"Hmm. Guess letting your archnemesis nurse you back to health from almost being killed takes you both out of commission, huh?"
"Yeah," Riley says, knocking ash from his cigarette. "You know, technically, I'm legally dead."
"What?" Eclipse leans forward in his chair, suddenly interested. "How the hell are you legally dead?"
"On every document in the nation, Riley Bell is listed as deceased. Faked my own death and everything, got a corpse that looked enough like me that nobody questioned anything."
Eclipse whistles. "Okay, I have...so many questions. One, how the hell did you find a dead body-you know what, never mind, don't answer that. One, your name is Riley?"
"Legally, yes. Riley Jackson Bell, good to meet you. Although, everything I own is under a different name, and my ID is under a different name, since, you know, it'd be hard to register anything as a dead man. Bought my house under a different name, went to college under a different name...most of my adult life, on paper, is a lie."
"You are a villain," Eclipse says, rubbing a hand down his face. "Riley, huh?"
"I already confirmed this."
"No, no, it's just...I guess it fits you," Eclipse says, cocking his head. "Riley Bell."
Riley tries not to laugh. He fails.
"I'm sorry," he says once he gets himself under control, "fucking Ezekiel?"
"I was born in Texas, shut up," Ezekiel laughs, "and I go by Zeke, anyway."
"Well that's not so bad," Riley says, "Better than Eclipse, anyway."
"Well, Riley's better than Nightshade," Zeke bites back playfully, and Riley can't help but laugh. "You know," Zeke says once they've calmed down, "It's kind of funny how I've only known you as Nightshade for this long. We've been nemeses for what, three years now, and I didn't know your name until a few minutes ago."
"Well, we weren't exactly making idle chit-chat while we were trying to kill each other," Riley deadpans, snubbing the remains of his cigarette.
"Touché," Zeke relents, then, "We should make idle chit-chat now."
"That is usually what we do when we smoke."
"It is," Zeke says, then, "so what was the name of your first crush?"
"You heard me," Zeke says, snubbing his own cigarette and reaching for the pack. "What was her name? Or...his name?"
"And why are you asking me this?" Riley inquires, more than a little exasperated.
"Because I'm trying to make idle chit-chat. And I'm also curious. My first crush's name was Frankie."
Riley shifts forward in his seat and takes the pack of cigarettes from where Zeke left them on the table. "Frankie?"
"Mm-hmm, Frankie West. He was in my kindergarten class. I wrote him a love note and he called me a slur."
Zeke shrugs. "He was five. Probably just parroting what his parents said. I have no idea where he is now. Probably married with two-point-five kids or something."
"How the hell do you have point five of a kid?"
"Don't ask me. And you didn't answer my question, Riley. What was their name?"
Riley rolls his eyes and lights his cigarette. "His name was Kyle. I was...maybe seven? He was a year ahead of me, but he always played with me on the playground. We played a lot of tag."
Riley snorts. "God, no. I never had the courage. One thing about us villain types is that we're usually cowards, and I'm no different."
"You can say that again," Zeke huffs, knocking ash off his cigarette, "you didn't kill me when you had the chance. Coward."
"Ha ha," Riley flicks ash in Zeke's face. "So. What was the name of your first girlfriend? Or...boyfriend, I guess."
"I lived in rural Texas until I was sixteen, I didn't get much of a chance to mess around with boys until I was older. My first girlfriend, I was...thirteen, if you can really count her as a girlfriend. Her name was Amanda. We only dated for like a month, but I still count it. It's a lot less pathetic that way. What about you?"
"Well," Riley says, racking his brain, "I...didn't really have the chance to get into a relationship until I was older, so the only real relationship I had was in college, and it wasn't even that serious. I think he was more interested in me than I was in him, and even then, I got caught up in villainy before it had the chance to become something. His name was Alex. He was this...closet case frat guy who would introduce me as his 'bro' around his friends, but would wax poetic about how much he cared about me when nobody was looking."
"Shit happens," Riley says, blowing smoke from his nose. "What about Kenzie? If you don't mind me asking, of course."
"Kenzie?" Zeke says, leaning back in his chair. "Quite frankly, we met on Bumble."
"Shut up, asshole. Yes, Bumble. We both thought it was silly that we were on it, and bonded over it. We had a lot of the same interests, and she got me into mountain biking, which..." Zeke looks down at his foot, still trapped in the boot. "I don't know if I'll ever do it again, honestly, and not just because of the boot. It still hurts thinking about her."
"That's understandable. You had something serious."
"I know, I know, it's just...kinda pathetic, isn't it? It's not as bad as it was when I first showed up here, though. I think hanging around you and trying to get better has been a nice distraction, and it's let me focus on myself instead of moping about Kenzie not loving me anymore."
"Yeah," Zeke says, "that's good."
It's weeks before Zeke is finally ready to be out of the boot. He's still unsteady when he walks, and has developed a rather annoying habit of falling into Riley's arms when he loses his balance.
"You're like a toddler," Riley grumbles, shifting Zeke's weight so he's easier to hold. Zeke just presses his face harder into Zeke's chest, the little shit.
"Aren't I a little big to be a toddler?"
"Hey, I'm a whole five-foot-seven, thank you very much!"
"You're still short," Riley gripes, then shoves Zeke off of him and ignores the fluttering in his chest.
And even though Zeke is well enough to leave, is well enough to go home and finish healing alone, he just...stays. He hangs around Riley's house and lair, eats his food, sleeps in his spare room, and they even start Netflix shows together, huddling up on the well-loved sofa with a larger-than-advisable bowl of popcorn between them and whining at each other when the characters would do something stupid.
And Riley pretends like he's not falling in love.
It hits him when they're sitting outside one night, smoking and drinking some of Riley's expensive whiskey. It's cold and crisp and clean, the night air, a sign of autumn having come and about to be gone, and the moon shines a bright silver high in the sky. Riley sets the whiskey and two glasses on the little table by the pool, which is long-since drained and covered, while Zeke lays blankets on the pool chairs so they don't freeze their asses off.
Zeke's skin shimmers silver in the moonlight, Riley notices, a quirk of his powers Riley's never seen before. "You're a fucking Twilight vampire, Zeke," he teases, pouring the whiskey, "you glitter."
"It's the skin of a killer, Bella," Zeke laughs, "I'm a killer."
"And I thought I was the villain out of the two of us," Riley says as he flops into his chair and wraps the blanket around himself, burrito-style, "but you're the one with the skin of a killer."
"Shut up, asshole," Zeke gripes, burrowing himself in his own blanket, "I haven't actually killed anyone. Unlike you."
"Listen, I'm just a nuisance," Riley argues, sipping his drink and lighting up, "most of the people who've died by my hand were accidental deaths. I could poison water supplies, orphanages, cities, but the most I've done is replace antibiotics at a hospital with mild laxatives. And it wasn't even intense antibiotics, it was fucking penicillin."
"That's still a terrible thing to do," Zeke says, voice carefully level, "you've still killed people, Riley. That's not something that's so easy to come back from. You're still a bad guy."
"I'm a villain," Riley helpfully reminds Zeke, "it's kind of in the job description to be a bad guy."
"I'm not arguing with you," Zeke says, "you've still killed people, and that makes you a bad person."
"And I'm telling you, that's my thing. I'm a villain. You don't get to harp at me for doing villainous things," Riley says hotly, "especially when less a hundred people have died by my hand. Comparatively, that's nothing. Killer Bee's taken out ten times that, and I don't see you harping about them."
"Because it makes sense for Killer Bee to do that. They're an awful person. You've spent five minutes with them, that's more than enough to see that they're genuinely awful and want to see people suffer and die horrible deaths. You..." Zeke sighs heavily, then knocks back the rest of his drink and reaches to pour himself another. "You're not like them. You're...kind, Riley."
"That's kind of an insult, you know." Riley deadpans.
"I'm not joking!" Zeke snaps, setting his glass back on the table. "Riley, nothing about you makes sense. You're a villain, through and through. You take every opportunity to make mischief, to hurt people, cause harm, but...you didn't hurt me. You've had every opportunity to kill me, and you haven't. You nursed me back to health, fed me, clothed me, fucking hell, you helped me take a shit when I couldn't walk! You could slit my throat while I'm asleep in your fucking spare bedroom, but no, you just bring me extra blankets when it's cold and make sure there's coffee for me in the morning. And it's not just that, either, it's a million other little things about you that just don't add up. You're such a good person, Riley. You're so good at heart, but you've done such terrible things. You're a villain, Riley, but you don't act like it. What is going on inside your head, Riley? I'm just trying to understand."
"I'm just trying to understand, Riley," Mom says, like Riley hasn't told her a million times, like she's never listened once to what he has to say.
"What is there to understand?" Riley asks. His voice is croaky with disuse. His wrists ache where they're locked into power-suppressant cuffs, as if he could try anything with the officers staring at them through the one-way glass, weapons at the ready. "You never listen to me anyway."
"Riley...you killed your sister."
"I did." No point in denying it. He's eighteen, now, has been locked into the Adult Superhuman Detention Center for three months, so there's no point in acting like a baby about it anymore. He has to be an adult and accept what he's done and what it makes him. "I killed Lindsay."
"And you don't even care, do you?" Mom says, her face twisted in anger. "You don't even care that she's dead."
"It's been six years, Mom," Riley says, lifting his head from where it had been resting against his chest. "Six years. I've moved on. There's no point in dwelling on the past."
"Your sister is dead, you monster!" And Riley hides the wince, hides the way it stings when she calls him that. "And you don't even care."
"I never said that. I've just moved on. You should, too, Mom. You'd have fewer grey hairs."
Mom splutters at that, then reaches out and slaps Riley across the cheek. His head jerks to the side and it takes everything in him not to cry. "Monster!" She shrieks, standing up so fast her chair falls over behind her. "How could you? I just want to understand, and you don't even care! You won't even tell me why! I just want to understand!"
Zeke's kneeling in front of him, holding him by the arms. Zeke's shaking him.
"Dammit, Riley, you're scaring me." Zeke says, and his face reflects his sentiments. His eyes are wide and his brow is knit, and he's gripping Riley's arms so hard there might be bruises. He's the only thing grounding Riley, right now, his chilly hands on Riley's arms, his kind words in Riley's ears, his absolute trust in Riley over these last few weeks, and Riley loves him.
Fuck. Fuck, Riley loves him.
Riley starts sobbing before he can stop himself. He lurches forward, head landing on Zeke's chest, and cries like he hasn't since he was a child. Loud, wet, ugly sounds leave him, and every time he tries to stop, he just cries harder.
"Riley?" Zeke asks, panicked, but Riley can't say anything. He wraps his arms around Zeke in a crushing hold, like Zeke might float away if he doesn't squeeze hard enough, and fucking hell, he might. Zeke stiffens in his grasp, but eventually wraps his arms around Riley as well. It's comforting, almost, this much contact. Riley hasn't been hugged like this since...he can't even remember. Riley keeps crying, and Zeke just shushes him, running his hands through Riley's hair calmingly.
"I didn't mean to. It was an accident," Riley chokes out, squeezing Zeke a little harder. "Was an accident."
"Hey, no, stop it," Zeke hushes, "I'm not mad, you didn't do anything wrong. I shouldn't have pushed you."
"Not that," Riley sniffs, sitting up and looking at Zeke's face. His skin shines bright in the moonlight, and fuck, if Riley's chest doesn't twist something awful. "My sister. I didn't mean to hurt her."
Something in Zeke's expression changes, and Riley doesn't know if he likes it. "Your sister? I didn't know you had a sister."
Riley nods. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I didn't know, and now she's dead, and...it was an accident! I didn't mean to hurt her, and nobody believed me."
"Riley," Zeke says, holding him by the arms again, forcing Riley to look him in the eyes. "Riley, what are you saying?"
"I..." Riley says, looking away. Sobs wrack him again, harsh and ugly, and he can't seem to stop. "I killed my sister. But I didn't mean to! I didn't know, I just...I was just trying to be nice! I was only twelve and I just wanted to be nice to my sister, and I killed her! I didn't mean to, I swear...I just wanted to do something nice." Riley's full-on sobbing again by the end of it. His chest aches, he can't breathe, and Zeke's looking at him with an expression Riley can't define, and Riley can't breathe can't breathe can'tbreathecantbreatheCANTBREATHECANTBREATHE-
Zeke crushes Riley to his chest. It's like a truck has been lifted off his ribcage, and air rushes into his lungs. He's still crying, can't seem to stop sobbing no matter what he does, because nothing feels right, but it feels good to feel it.
"You're okay," Zeke says, like he's saying it more to himself than to Riley. "You're okay, you're okay, you didn't...you didn't do anything wrong, okay? You're okay...you're okay."
And Zeke just holds Riley while he sobs. And Riley just...lets him.
Riley doesn't know what to expect the next morning after he and Zeke half carry each other to bed. He certainly doesn't expect an apology.
"I'm sorry," Zeke says over coffee and cheap cereal. "I shouldn't've said anything last night."
Riley raises an eyebrow. "You don't owe me an apology."
"But I do," Zeke insists, "because you had a panic attack because of me. Whatever those flashbacks are, they're because of me, because of things I've said."
"No, they're not," Riley sighs out, knocking back the rest of his coffee. "I have PTSD. I get flashbacks regardless of you. They're just more easily triggered around other people. Why do you think I work alone?"
"I still shouldn't have pushed you like that. You were clearly stressed, and I didn't stop to think about what you were feeling. I just kept pushing until you broke, and that's never okay. So, I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologize," Riley says again, and holds up his hand to stop Zeke from talking when he tries. "I think I needed that. Whatever it was, last night. It's like a weight was lifted off my chest. Look," Riley sighs, shifting in his seat uncomfortably, "I've never told anyone about....about my sister, not even my former therapist. I think I needed to finally let it go."
"I'm glad you feel better, but that still wasn't healthy."
"And why do you care?" Riley snaps, "I'm not paying you to care."
"Because I'm your friend, Riley," Zeke says, like it's the easiest thing in the world, like Riley's chest doesn't twist into something ugly when he says it, "Because that's what friends do. We care about each other. If you still can't get it through that thick skull of yours, think of it like this: I'm just returning the favor."
"You took care of me, I'm taking care of you. It's what friends do. You have to have had friends before," Zeke says, "before you were a villain."
"I wouldn't know. I spent most of my adolescence in prison for killing my sister. I busted out at nineteen and faked my own death before I became Nightshade."
Zeke opens his mouth as if to say something, then sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "You know what, I don't think I'm ready to unpack that this early in the morning."
"Good, because I'm not either."
Zeke slaps a hand over his mouth, but it doesn't stop him from laughing. It's infectious and bright and a little guilty, and soon enough, Riley joins him. God, Riley loves him.
That thought nearly knocks Riley out of his laughing fit.
But the world doesn't stop turning. And Zeke doesn't leave. And they finish Bridgerton and start Dexter, and October turns to November turns to December and Riley falls a little more in love every day. And then Zeke asks him for a fucking Christmas tree.
"I'm sorry, I think my ears are on the fritz," Riley says over Chinese takeout. "Did you just ask me for a fucking Christmas tree?"
"Come on, please?" Zeke says, giving Riley the puppy dog eyes that he knows Riley can't resists. "My 25th birthday is on the 20th. It's always special to me. My parents always set up a Christmas tree for me."
Riley huffs. "Okay, rich kid, go celebrate with your parents, then."
Zeke pouts and it's definitely not cute. "My parents are divorced and I don't speak to them anymore. Come on, just...let's go pick out a tree, please? We've got the space," and ouch, does it sting hearing Zeke call Riley's house his own, but he's not exactly wrong, is he, "and it'd be nice to decorate together."
"I don't even have ornaments," Riley says, fondly exasperated, "or lights. Or garland or whatever the hell that sparkly shit is you put on Christmas trees."
"We'll buy some from the dollar store or something," Zeke insists, "it doesn't need to be fancy. C'mon, please?"
Riley groans. "Fiiiiiine," and it's definitely not cute when Zeke lets out a little whoop! and jumps to his feet, already chattering excitedly about the Christmas tree farm about an hour away where they can choose their own tree and how "We don't even have to cut it down ourselves, we just pay some buff lumberjack to do it. He'll even tie it to our car for us!"
Riley doesn't sing along to the Christmas music Zeke blasts the whole way there. He doesn't.
The tree farm is this little five-acre slip of a thing on a snow-capped hill an hour north of the city. It's got a massive sign out front advertising pick-your-own-tree and fresh hot chocolate that Riley just knows is watered-down Swiss Miss, maybe with some powdered milk if he's lucky. It also makes Zeke's eyes light up with childish wonder, so it can't be too bad.
"The best ones are always at the top!" Zeke says once they find a place to park, "so get moving! I wanna get one before sundown, or else we'll freeze. Plus, the hot chocolate's at the top."
"You know," Riley gripes halfway up, "we could've saved ourselves a lot of trouble if we just got a fake tree."
"You're no fun," Zeke calls back from where he's a dozen steps ahead, "and we're almost there, anyway!"
By the time they've reached the top, Riley is cold and miserable, but he does have to agree with Zeke: the trees up here are much, much nicer than the ones at the bottom. There's even a few other people up here, mostly families with young children who don't give them a second glance. If Riley listens close enough, he can hear the sound of chainsaws in the distance, and the smell of pine, spruce, and cedar permeate the air.
Zeke's already standing by a tree, seemingly sizing it up. "What do you think? he asks Riley when he gets close enough. "Is this a good one?"
"You're the Christmas tree expert," Riley says, "you decide."
Zeke hums, then steps away from the tree for a moment. He looks around for a moment, then, fast as a flash, melts into the tree's shadow. Riley splutters for a moment, dumbfounded, but Zeke's only gone for a few seconds. "Yeah," Zeke says once he's back, patting the trunk, "this one's good."
Zeke wanders off to go find a lumberjack, but not before bullying Riley into buying them hot chocolate. The teenage girl behind the counter smiles warmly, and tells Riley that him and his boyfriend are cute together.
"Who?" Riley asks, handing over the money and taking the paper cups from the counter.
"Your boyfriend. With the dark hair? You make a really cute couple."
Riley splutters and hopes the girl doesn't notice his blush, then hurriedly leaves to bring Zeke his hot chocolate.
"So where'd you go?" Riley shouts over the noise of the chainsaw. "When you went into the shadows."
"Nowhere," Zeke shouts back, sipping his hot chocolate. "Just wanted to make sure it had a good shadow."
Zeke gives a goofy grin. "You love me."
Riley's heart aches. Because he fucking does.
They take their tree home and decorate it with Dollar Tree ornaments and get drunk on cheap eggnog. "I've never been much for Christmas," Riley admits around a mouthful of 'nog, "never really got presents or anything. Only socks. And then I went to prison."
Zeke laughs, because of course he does, socks are hilarious, and says, "I love Christmas. Because my birthday is so close, I always got double presents."
"Fucking rich kid," Riley pokes, but there's no real heat behind it. Zeke just laughs.
"What are you getting me for Christmas?" Zeke slurs out, settling his empty eggnog glass dangerously close to the edge of the counter. Riley laughs.
Zeke starts laughing, too, and Riley laughs even harder. Riley loves him. He loves him, he loves him, he loves him.
Riley's never been much for Christmas, but maybe this one won't be so bad.
Except it is. Except it isn't.
They finish Dexter late on Christmas Eve. While the final end credits are rolling, Riley feels something bubble up in his chest. It's the feeling he gets when he gets flashbacks, but less intense, more...achy, almost, like there's words on his tongue rather than visions in his head. "I killed my sister."
"Hmm?" Zeke mumbles, half asleep against Riley's chest. "Wha?"
"I killed my sister," Riley says again as his breathing picks up, "I killed Lindsay. I killed my sister."
"Riley," Zeke says, suddenly very awake, "Riley, are you okay? Are you with me, Riley?"
Riley grips Zeke's arm, grounding himself, but the feeling doesn't go away. "I killed my sister."
"Riley," Zeke says, shifting to hold him, "Riley, listen to me. Look at me, listen to me, Riley. I'm right here, you're okay. You didn't do anything wrong. You're okay."
"But I did," Riley insists, nearly crushing Zeke's arm with the force of his grip, "I killed Lindsay. And I hurt those people with my powers like I hurt her. I never...I never meant to hurt Lindsay."
"Riley, please, stop it. You're okay, I'm right here. Look at me," Zeke pleads, cupping Riley's face. "Look at me, Riley."
"I didn't mean to hurt her. I didn't!"
"I know you didn't," Zeke says, moving Riley so that his face is tucked into Zeke's chest, "you were just a kid, I know you didn't mean to."
"But I killed her. And I went to prison because I killed her and I'm bad. I was trying to do something nice and I hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her."
"I know," Zeke says, and he's starting to sound frantic, "I know, and you were just a kid. You never should've been treated that way, Riley."
"Every time I try to do something good, I just hurt people," Riley whispers, and he thinks of his sister, thinks of the few acquaintances he'd made in prison who he'd accidentally killed with his unchecked powers, thinks of every time since he'd gotten his powers that he's hurt someone. "It's all I can do. All I do is hurt people, Zeke."
"That's not true," Zeke argues, pushing Riley away and holding him at arm's length. "You helped me. You didn't hurt me when you could've. You saved my life, Riley."
"But I hurt Lindsay. I killed my sister, Zeke. You can't come back from that."
Zeke curses lowly. "I'm sorry I ever said that to you, Riley, I am. And yeah, you've done some terrible things, and your past doesn't excuse that, but...what happened to you never should've happened to you. You got stuck into a system that never cared about you, never thought about what might've been happening to you. They just saw someone with dangerous powers and didn't bother looking at the kid underneath it. They told you you were a monster. You believed them, and look where it got you."
Riley feels tears falling down his cheeks. His heart is pounding, and Zeke's hands are warm. He reaches up and settles his hands on Zeke's wrists. "But I killed her..."
"But you didn't mean to. I...I don't know how much that hurts. I don't know what you're feeling or how much you're hurting right now. Accidents happen, and your sister dying was a tragic accident. It wasn't your fault. You had powers you didn't know how to control and got thrown into prison because of an accident instead of given the help you needed, and I'm so sorry that that ever happened to you Riley.
"And...if it's worth anything at all, I don't see a monster when I look at you. I see a person. I see a person who's kind and funny and sarcastic and a fucking dick when he wants to be. Sure, he's flawed and he's made mistakes, god knows he's made mistakes, but...nobody helped him when he needed it, and that hurt him. That hurt you so much, Riley. Losing your sister on top of all of that? I never knew..."
Riley sniffs as Zeke wipes away a tear. "But..."
"Shh," Zeke shushes, "shh, just stop it. Stop blaming yourself. You're never going to get better unless you stop blaming yourself. You've done bad things, and you have to learn to live with that, but you need to stop blaming yourself."
Riley's heart is pounding. Zeke's looking at him like he doesn't expect anything, like Riley's allowed to just feel, and feel he does. He's hurting, Riley doesn't think he's ever been in quite so much pain, and his heart is empty and achingly full and he doesn't know what to think or to say or to do. And Riley loves him.
God help him, Riley loves Zeke.
He doesn't know what he's doing when he reaches out and cups Zeke's face, but he does know that Zeke's lips are soft and warm and damp underneath his own, and that god, it feels good to kiss him.
Fuck. Riley just kissed him. Fuck.
Riley shoots away from Zeke like he's been shot. Zeke's eyes are still closed, but they open after a moment. Riley's chest is heaving, and he opens his mouth to apologize, but he can't find the right words. Nothing feels like enough.
And then the villain alarm goes off.
Riley shoots to his feet, suddenly terrified for a whole new reason. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," he mutters, already heading for the elevator to his lair. "Fuck."
"Hold on," Zeke says, stumbling to his own feet, "you don't just get to walk away after that. What the hell was that, Riley?"
"The last of our worries, that's what," Riley snaps, putting in the passcode to open the elevator and stepping inside. "Get in."
"I think it's a pretty big fucking worry, if you ask me," Zeke says, face scrunched in anger. "You just kissed me out of nowhere."
Riley turns to face Zeke, leaning into his space and using the four inches of height he's got on Zeke to his advantage. "Listen, Zeke, we can worry about what that was later, but right now we've got bigger fish to fry. Did you hear that alarm in there? That was my villain proximity alarm. It means that in the city, there's a villain that could potentially destroy it already wreaking havoc, and is getting dangerously close to me. We've gotta get the hell out of here if we want any kind of chance at survival."
"Woah, woah, slow down," Zeke says, holding his arms in a time-out pose. "There's half a million people in the city. How about we worry about them first?"
"In case you haven't noticed, there's a villain already destroying the city. What good will getting myself killed trying to help do?"
"It's the right thing to do!"
"And don't give me that 'I'm a villain' shit! I just sat there and held you on the couch while you cried about hurting people! You don't get to call yourself a villain after that!"
"But every time I try to do the right thing, it blows up in my face! I'm only ever good at doing the wrong thing! I stopped trying to do the right thing a long time ago, Zeke, so why would I start now when there's nothing in it for me? Nothing ever goes right when I try to do something good, so I'm not gonna risk it all by starting again now."
"Then let me help you!" Zeke shouts, his face close enough that Riley could kiss him again. "Riley, I know you're good in there. I've spent enough time with you to see it. You're just hurting, and that's not an excuse, but at least this could clear your conscience. It might even clear your name. Please, Riley. Please."
Clear your name. Clear your name. Clear your name.
Riley squeezes his eyes shut against the torrent of tears that wants to come tumbling down. He knows what's going to come out of his mouth before he's even made up his mind.
"Fine. No promises that I won't fuck everything up, but I'll try."
Zeke's face lights up, dumbfounded. "Really?"
"Yes, really. But we need a plan before we do anything. I've never even attempted something like this before. There's no way I'm going to be able to get half a million people to safety, even with my tech."
"Then don't," Zeke says, watching the numbers tick down, down, down on the elevator screen, "I'll do it. I can only take a few people into the shadows with me at a time, but I should be able to get the most vulnerable people away from the scene of the fight, wherever that may be. You can keep whoever it is occupied long enough for me to get as many people to safety as I can. Hopefully there'll already be some other heroes on scene to help."
"As if they'll want to help me," Riley gripes, "I'm still Nightshade. I'm still technically a villain."
"But most heroes are reasonable people. Truces can be made once they see you trying to help. We can all try to murder each other after we take this bastard down."
Riley huffs out an exasperated laugh. "Sounds like a plan," then, softer, "I can't believe I'm actually doing this."
"Hey, don't back out on me now, Riley," Zeke says, gently smacking Riley in the shoulder when the elevator doors open, "I just got through to you."
"I'm not," Riley promises, "I promise I'm not."
He really, really wishes he hadn't made that promise.
"Is that...Killer Bee?" Zeke whispers in awe once they get a good look at the screen in Riley's lair. There's thousands of their clones flying through the city, swarming, and it looks like they're not alone, either, because...no way...
"That's fucking Pyra," Zeke groans as he stares at the screen with a pained expression as Pyra opens her mouth and lets out a swath of flame, setting a string of trees alight. "She's been out of commission for a decade!"
"Well, clearly she's back now!"
"Yes, I can see that! God, what are we gonna do?"
"Are you backing out now, Zeke?"
"No," Zeke snaps, gripping a fistful of his own hair and sighing, "I just...fuck, I've never fought pyros before, and Pyra's had years to hone her craft."
"We'll figure it out. For now, let's just...get ready to go help those people. You got your hero getup?"
"No, but I can get it faster than you can change into yours." And with that Zeke melts into the shadow of Riley's hovercraft.
"You know I've never said this," Zeke shouts over the wind once they're on the hovercraft, flying towards the carnage in the city, "but your villain getup makes you look really stupid."
"Right back at you, bud!"
Zeke opens his mouth to talk, but is cut off with a loud explosion. Something (someone?) crashes into the hovercraft, nearly knocking them out of the air. Riley curses as he rights the craft, then turns around to see what crashed into them.
It's Volt and Killer Bee, or at least, one of their clones. Volt's blonde hair is wild around her face, and her orange-and-blue hero outfit is askew. One of her gloves is missing, but she doesn't even seem to notice, locked in combat with Killer Bee as she is. The air smells strongly of ozone for a moment, before-
Lightning shoots out of the sky, knocking Killer Bee off the craft. They fall for a moment before disappearing entirely. Volt curses loudly.
"Fuckin' 'ell!" Between the mouthful of blood and her thick Cockney accent, it's nearly impossible to understand her. "I keep gettin' clones!" Volt doesn't even seem to notice what she's standing on until Riley clears his throat.
Volt's head whips around to focus on Riley. "Nightshade?" She spits, suddenly even angrier, "The fuck are you doin' 'ere? Come to join the fun? Didn't take you for the type!"
The air smells of ozone again for a moment before Zeke makes himself known, getting up from where he'd fallen in the crash and putting himself between Riley and Volt. "Hey, hey! That's enough! Nightshade isn't here to fight us. He's here to help."
Volt blinks a few times, like she can’t believe her eyes. “Eclipse?”
“That’s my name,” Zeke says, and Riley has the strangest urge to laugh.
"But...I thought you were dead!"
"Clearly he's not!" Riley shouts as he dodges another flying hero battling one of Killer Bee's clones. "And neither am I!"
"Listen, Volt," Zeke says, "I can get some of these people out of here, but I need you, Nightshade, and the other heroes to distract Killer Bee and Pyra while I do it. I can't save everyone, but I can at least buy you guys some time in finding Killer Bee's original. You take out the original, you take out Killer Bee."
"Why should I trust him?"
"Listen, you can kill each other all you want when we're done, but right now, we have a city to save. I don't blame you for not trusting Nightshade, and I'm not asking you to trust him. I'm asking you to trust me. We've known each other for years, Volt. Hattie," Zeke says, and it hits Riley that that's Volt's real name, "please. I trust him, and I'm asking you to trust me."
Volt doesn't look too happy about it, but she finally says, "Alright, I'll do it. But I'm not trusting him any farther than I can throw him. What do you need?"
"Just distract Killer Bee until I can get as many people out of here as I can!"
"And what about Pyra?" Riley asks, watching flames below them.
"We'll cross that bridge when we get there!"
"I think we already got there, mate!" Volt shrieks as a ball of flames rises up beneath them.
"Just wing it!" Zeke shouts, "I have to go help those people! Every minute wasted is a life lost. Figure something out!" And before Riley or Volt can protest, he's melting into his own shadow.
Riley and Volt stare at each other for a minute, before Riley finally asks, "Who else is here?"
Volt shakes her head, as if to clear her thoughts. "Erm, it's me, Grapevine, Sonic Boom, and The King."
Electricity, plants, super speed, and a flight/super strength combo. Not the best, but certainly not the worst.
"Alright, listen. We need to get to Killer Bee's original if we want to have any plan of taking them and Pyra down. I've worked with Killer Bee, I know them, and they're a coward, so knowing them they've probably got their original somewhere safe where they can control the hivemind without interruption. It's harder for them to control the clones farther away, so I'd be willing to bet wherever there's the most clones, they can't be far."
"So we just look for the spot with the most clones?"
Rile dodges another clone, this one on fire. "Easier said than done. There has to be thousands of these motherfuckers here, and they're not going down without a fight."
"We can't fight them all!"
"No," Riley agrees, reaching into a panel in the floor and pulling out several little spheres, "so we evade them. This," he says, holding up a ball, "is a smoke bomb. I've got about a million of these stashed here, but you have got to be careful with them, they're poison. It won't kill you, but prolonged exposure could make you blind. Avoid fighting if you can, take back alleys and try not to let any clones see you, but if you need to make a quick escape, press this little button here and throw it on the ground. It'll give you quick cover and disorient the clone long enough for you to get away, but for the love of god, be careful. I don't want this stuff getting to any civilians."
"And if you do find Killer Bee," Riley says, reaching for more smoke bombs, "we need some kind of signal."
"I'll summon a big storm if I find them. You can throw up a smoke cloud or somethin'," Volt says, stashing the smoke bombs in near-invisible pockets on her suit. It's definitely not hilarious-looking. "And I'll tell the other heroes about this plan."
"They're not gonna be happy about it," Riley warns.
"I'm no' happy about it, either," Volt gripes, "but I don't think we can win this without some help."
"Think of it as insider information," Riley grins, "who better to take down a villain than a villain?"
Volt groans at that. "Is now really the time for bad jokes?"
"I thought it was funny," Riley says, miffed.
"Well, your opinion doesn't count, you're a villain."
Riley just rolls his eyes. "Give these to the other heroes, too, and make sure you tell them to signal if they find Killer Bee's original."
"What if we run into Pyra?"
Riley curses. He reaches into another, much smaller side panel, and pulls out a dart. "This dart has mild poison in it. If you can manage to hit her with it, it'll paralyze part of her body, but only for a minute or so. It's just to buy you time, not to kill her."
"Why would you make something like this?"
A loud explosion catches their attention. Riley prays Zeke didn't get caught in it. "I don't have time to explain myself to you. Deadly poisons take a lot more out of me. I can only make them if I'm really emotional or have a lot of energy, so just be grateful you have anything right now. We have to move."
Another clone crashes into Riley's hovercraft, this time fully knocking it down. Volt manages to leap off just in time, but Riley's not so lucky. He goes down with it and crashes into a tree, narrowly avoiding goring himself on a sharp branch. By the time he's managed to extract himself, Volt is long gone and Riley is surrounded by carnage.
Trees have become charred, blackened skeletons of themselves. Buildings are smoldering rubble, and corpses of unfortunate civilians dot the landscape. Riley feels like he might be sick, but the only clones here are in the sky, so he has to keep moving. By the scent, he can tell Volt's gone north, so he takes to the east, narrowly avoiding clones and clutching his aching ribs while he limps along.
Dead vines litter the ground as he gets closer to the edge of the city. He can, faintly, smell the remains of ozone. There's dents in the sides of buildings that only super strength could cause, and with it all, the charred remains of Pyra's victims.
But the clones here are denser, Riley notices, enough to swarm rather than just attack randomly. He has to be getting closer to Killer Bee's original. He has to.
If there's one thing Riley really, really isn't, it's a fighter. He's a prankster, sure, a nuisance, definitely, maybe even a villain, but he does not do well in hand-to-hand combat.
So it's just his luck that Killer Bee's original is surrounded by at least twenty clones in the middle of the kitchen of a ruined house, each clone standing at attention, while Killer Bee themself is tucked in the middle, sitting on the ground, arms extended, eyes closed, an expression of deep concentration on their face.
Riley ducks behind the crumbling remains of the wall between the kitchen and living room and reaches for a smoke bomb, carefully planning his maneuvers. If he can get close and drop one at the right time and confuse the hivemind enough, he just might be able to take out Killer Bee. The poison dart might not kill them, but a direct hit on the spine could paralyze them long enough to take them out of commission for several days.
More than enough time to take down Pyra. Hopefully.
He darts out from behind the wall, fast as anything, and just as the clones take notice of him, he drops the smoke bomb.
Riley's eyes immediately begin to water as his vision fogs over, the pain nearly bringing him to his knees. He's not prepared for this. He uses smoke bombs to make a quick escape, to fuck with the heroes and police who try to chase after him by making them blind for a day or two (or the rest of their life if they're particularly unlucky), he's not the one dealing with them. His eyes aren't used to this, and it's so easy to forget that he's not immune to his own poisons.
But he has to keep going.
One benefit of the clones is that they're cold to the touch. He can immediately feel the difference. It's like touching a corpse; a cold shiver runs down his spine when he shoves them off in their confusion, a deep-seated sense of wrong that just doesn't go away until he's not touching the clone anymore. When he hits solid warmth, flesh and blood, he knows he's done something right.
When he goes to jab the dart into Killer Bee's spine and makes contact with brick, he knows he's done something terribly wrong.
The needle of the dart snaps and the glass vial shatters on impact, dousing Riley's hand. It begins to tingle, then goes fully numb after a moment, but that's the least of his worries.
Killer Bee managed to slip out of his grasp and slip into Riley's smokescreen. Riley can't see, but Killer Bee's goggles give them a little bit of an edge. They take advantage or Riley's panic and confusion and tackle him from behind, knocking him to the ground. They land with Riley in a chokehold, Killer Bee sitting on Riley's lower back, their legs on either side of him.
"What's this?" Killer Bee grits out as the smoke begins to clear, tightening their grip on Riley's throat. Riley gasps, foggy vision turning black around the edges as he struggles for air. "A little Nightshade growing in my garden?"
Riley coughs and gags, then manages to choke out, "Fffffuck...you!"
Killer bee lets out a raucous peal of laughter and tightens their grip. "No, thank you! I'd rather kill you."
Riley gags again, spots appearing in his vision. He tries fruitlessly to pull Killer Bee's arm off him, but nothing happens. He lets go with one arm and blindly gropes around, for what, he doesn't know, but his mind is slowly starting to slip away with his lack of oxygen.
"What are you doing, hmm, little Nightshade? Thought you were my friend," Killer Bee says, shifting their weight to sit more squarely on Riley's tailbone. "Throw your lot in with the good guys, have you?"
Riley tries to speak, but all the comes out is a strangled gasp.
"I knew you were a coward. Such strong powers. Could destroy the world if you wanted to. Take out hospitals, cities, have people bowing at your feet, but no, you just pull pranks. Sure, you get people killed, but...not the way you could. "
Riley gurgles in response. His vision is nearly black, now, and Killer Bee's voice fades in and out as they speak.
"And here you are, throwing away everything you could have for a chance at being one of the good guys." Killer Bee's arm tightens even more. Riley can't even gasp anymore; his lungs are screaming.
"And just look where it got you."
Riley's vision goes dark, and just before he slips under, there's a sharp gasp from behind him. Killer Bee's arm goes slack around his throat and Riley sucks in a gasp of air. The world slowly comes back into focus as he pants, and he takes a moment to regain his bearings before fully shrugging off Killer Bee. They fall to the ground with a dull thump, and when Riley turns around, there's a thick, thorny vine growing through their chest, blood slowly oozing from the grotesque wound. Riley swears loudly and skitters back, heart racing as he looks around for the culprit.
"Grapevine?" Riley asks croakily when he sees her. Grapevine is huddled into the corner, watching the scene before him with a blank stare. "How did you find me?"
"Volt told us the plan," she says, stepping out of the corner, "none of us were happy, but we figure it's better than nothing. Me and my husband tracked you here. You choke really loud."
"Me." a booming voice says from above. The King descends from...somewhere, Riley can't focus too well right now, and lands beside Grapevine. "Hello, Nightshade." He doesn't sound too happy.
"Yeah, hi." Riley croaks out, then bursts into a coughing fit. The King stalks over and gives Riley a slightly painful pat on the shoulder, which just makes the fit worse.
"He's in no shape to fight like this," Grapevine points out.
"Thanks for the info, captain obvious," Riley gripes.
"No need to be rude," The King says, crouching to Riley's level. "We're just here to help."
"Listen, Mr. The King, I just got choked half to death. Cut me some slack."
"He's still not in fighting shape," Grapevine chimes in, "but we need all the help we can get. Can you carry him?"
"He's a hundred and seventy pounds, Grapevine. Yes, I can carry him."
The King can, in fact, carry him. Riley's never felt more like a scruffed kitten in his life than when The King grabs him by the back of the suit and picks him up like he weighs nothing.
Grapevine steps closer and looks Riley up and down. "I don't like this arrangement," she says carefully, "but I don't think you do either. But I think, for now, at least, an olive branch needs to be extended."
She bends down and plucks something off the ground, and when she stands back up, Riley nearly laughs. In her hand is a single purple nightshade flower. "Nightshade. I call a truce."
Riley swallows. Suddenly, the nightshade flower doesn't seem so funny. Grapevine looks at him expectantly, and he can feel The King tense behind him. "Fine. Truce."
Grapevine nods, then puts the nightshade flower behind her ear. "Riley, then. We need to get moving. Killer Bee's done for, but Pyra's still raining terror down on the city. Eclipse is doing the best he can, but he has to be getting tired by now. He can't save everyone."
"He can't," The King agrees, and before Riley can even get a word in, they're lifting off, with Grapevine not far behind, using vines to swing from tree to tree.
It's not exactly hard to find Pyra. It's only a matter of following the path of destruction. Smoldering buildings, blackened trees, charred corpses, all of it leads them to Pyra, who's busy breathing fire onto a group of firefighters attempting to put her out. The King sets them down a few blocks away behind a building that's yet to be destroyed, and they all take a moment to watch in horror as Pyra kills half a dozen firefighters in the blink of an eye.
Distantly, he can smell Volt, and she seems to be coming closer. He briefly wonders where Sonic Boom is, and then gets the answer to his question when he sees Sonic Boom's smoking corpse impaled on a piece of exposed steel rebar, identifiable only by his green boots. "We've got to find a way to put her down," Grapevine says, and The King nods.
"I agree. Killer Bee was no small threat, but Pyra could destroy the entire city like this," The King says, "We need a plan."
"Well, start thinking," Riley says as Pyra spits fire at the next building, "because we're barbecue if we don't figure something out soon."
"Volt," Grapevine suddenly says, "Volt is our best shot. Nightshade, can you turn water to poison?"
"Good. If Volt can summon a storm big enough, and you can turn the rainwater to poison, we might be able to put out the fires and take out Pyra in one go."
"That's brilliant," Riley says, "Only one problem. I'm not in good shape, and deadly poison takes a lot more out of me than something mildly annoying. I have to either be really emotional or have a lot of energy, and I don't have either of those right now."
The King curses loudly. "Do you think you can try?"
Riley opens his mouth to say no, then hesitates. Clear your name. Do something right. The right thing to do.
Riley swallows heavily. "No promises," he grits out, "but I'll try."
Grapevine breaks into a hesitant smile. "Good," she says, "that's good."
And The King leaves, comes back with Volt in his arms. She looks like she's eaten a bunch of sour grapes, and she's got a bruise blooming on her left cheek that looks nothing short of agonizing. "I take it you've been briefed on the plan?" Riley grouses.
"Yes," she says, "and I hate it."
Volt huffs out something that almost sounds like a laugh.
It takes a moment of fine-tuning the plan and running when Pyra gets too close, but soon enough, Volt is standing with her arms raised, face screwed up in concentration. The sky above Pyra turns an ominous grey as thunder rumbles. If Pyra notices, she doesn't seem to care.
Volt is sweating heavily by the time the little storm is fully brewed and the first sprinkles of rain are hitting the pavement and Pyra. Pyra finally looks up, and when she does-
Riley nearly shouts and gives away their position when Zeke bursts up from Pyra's shadow and uppercuts her. She's knocked off her feet and onto her back, but not for long. She's up before Riley can blink, but Zeke's already gone. Pyra roars in rage and lets out a blast of fire so hot it nearly singes Riley's eyebrows, but Zeke pops up again and gets her in the gut this time. She lets out a belch of fire and bellows again, but Zeke is already gone.
They go back and forth for seemingly forever, even after the rain is in full force and has nearly put out Pyra's fires. Volt looks like she's about to collapse, but she's holding her own, controlling the little storm and keeping their portion of the street dry. riley considers himself lucky that at least Volt has precise control of her powers.
And then, just as Zeke is melting out of Pyra's shadow, she catches him. "NO!" Riley shouts, but it's too late. She laughs triumphantly as she knocks Zeke to the ground, setting her foot on his chest. She's careful to keep her shadow out of Zeke's reach before fully setting herself on fire. It's so bright that all the nearby shadows shift away from them, and Zeke has no way out. He screams in pain, and Riley screams with him. There's a sharp tug in his gut, a painful twinge in his head, and a ragged breath leaves him as he turns the rainwater falling to the ground into deadly poison.
Pyra screams in pain as the flames around her die down. Zeke takes the opportunity to melt into her shadow, but Riley just knows he took some damage, too. Pyra falls to the ground, howling in agony, but it's too late. She's dead before the storm fades away, leaving a smoldering husk of what was once a feared villain.
But Riley doesn't care. Zeke has just phased back into reality in Riley's own shadow, and he's dying.
"No, no, no, no, no..." he mumbles, getting on his knees beside where Zeke is lying on the ground. "Zeke?" he asks, cradling Zeke's head and ripping the mask off his face. "Zeke?"
Zeke coughs weakly and opens his eyes. His pupils are pinpricks, his irises an ocean of brown and blue. "Riley," he chokes out, settling a hand on Riley's cheek, "Riley, you did it, didn't you?"
"Yeah," Riley says weakly, grabbing Zeke's wrist and holding it there. Zeke's hands are so cold, and Riley hates it. "Yeah, I did it. Pyra's dead."
Zeke smiles weakly. "Awesome." He coughs, and there's blood coating his lips. Riley is struck with the sudden urge to kiss him, to breathe life back into his lips even though all Riley knows how to do is take it.
But Riley kisses him anyway, and he tastes like blood and tears and Riley's brand of cigarettes.
When he pulls away, Zeke just stares at him. He pulls Riley's own mask off, as if to see him better. "Why'd you do that?"
"That's twice today you've kissed me," Zeke says, then coughs again. "I'm dying, Riley. The least you could do is tell me the truth."
And by god, Riley loves him.
"I love you," Riley says, even as tears roll down his cheeks and land on Zeke's. "I love you."
Zeke gives a weak smile and closes his eyes. "Merry fuckin' Christmas to me."
"Zeke?" Riley says, shaking him. "Zeke!"
But Zeke doesn't open his eyes. His breathing is shallow, and his heart is fast and fluttery and weak and Riley is horribly reminded of when Zeke first showed up at his house, broken and bruised, but this time, it's Zeke's fault.
"No," he chokes out as he cradles Zeke to his chest. "No..."
"Nightshade," Grapevine says, "help him."
And Riley's eyes shoot open.
He's saved Zeke once before.
And if he's lucky, if he's very, very lucky, he's not too late to do it again.
He forces himself to calm his breathing and focus on the poison covering Zeke, covering him, and with a burst of energy he didn't know he had, he flings it away from them. A weight Riley couldn't even feel before is lifted off his shoulders, and he sucks in a gasping breath. He'd been killing himself as well as Zeke, he realized. Even just touching Zeke was enough to poison himself, but the realization fades away when he hears a groan.
"Zeke?" he asks, cupping Zeke's face. "Zeke?"
"Goddamn, this hurts," Zeke mumbles, scrunching his face. He opens his eyes, then focuses on Riley. He gives a pained little smile. "Can't seem to stop saving me, can you?"
Relief washes over Riley, and suddenly he's sobbing, loud, ugly wailing as he crushes Zeke to his chest. "You're alive," he says, tangling his fingers in Zeke's filthy hair, "oh my god, you're alive."
"Yeah," Zeke croaks, giving a weak laugh, "I'm alive. Me and a lot of other people, thanks to you."
Riley pulls away and chuckles, still crying. "Not just me. Volt and Grapevine and-"
"Riley. Stop being humble. You're a villain," Zeke chuckles, "humility isn't in the job description."
Riley chuckles at that, too. He sniffs, stroking Zeke's cheek with his thumb. "I'm sorry for kissing you."
Zeke laughs, then groans in pain. "We can talk about that later, Riley."
Zeke shuts him up with a kiss. He tastes like blood and tears and Riley's brand of cigarettes and home. "There," Zeke breathes against his mouth, "now we're even."
Riley lets out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "We still need to talk about it," Riley argues, and Zeke kisses him again.
"I never said we didn't," Zeke says gently, "but I think we both need to go to the hospital first." And Riley can't help but laugh at that.
"Yeah," he agrees, "I think so, too."
And Riley doesn't know what the future holds for them, but he hopes that maybe, just maybe, it might hold a few more 'I love yous.'
