The Not-So-Great Mother of Tangle the Lemur, a refined businesswoman who has forsaken family for her professional life and profits. She has disdain for her daughter after she failed to grow into the woman she wanted her to, and is a cold individual who thrives on profits and scaling the corporate ladder by any means necessary. While also possessing a tail like Tangle's, hers is far weaker and less prehensile due to disuse, since she has no need of it in the corporate world and considers herself above such things.
OK, talk about Felix and Millie? For your 500 words post
Felix is not like Amelie.
It would be so much easier, Millie thinks, if he were.
No, Felix is all Emilie - and Emilie was ever reflective of Emil. A strong personality that refused to make itself palatable unless some force was applied.
Colt is definitely applying force, she can see it in the new reservation in her grandson, the way he inhales before he speaks, as though preparing to be challenged.
He will leave them, she thinks, like Emilie did. But Amelie was a better mother to her son than she ever was to her girls.
"Grandmum?" Felix rouses her from her woolgathering. "Tea? I was getting mother some."
Millie reaches out and notes the flinch as she comes close, her fingers pause their path and then cup his cheek. "Sweet boy."
His eyes are so bright. His eyes. His mother's. Hers.
She should protect him.
She should protect all of them. She is a coward. Such a coward. "Thank you, Felix."
His lips part, and she sees question and accusations lingering in his eyes.
He won't forgive them. He shouldn't.
If she was strong enough, she would give them the world.
1. I know Hiashi HyĹŤga cleans up his act, but 1st impressions matter.
2. For those wondering who Kazuma is, he is the father of Sora, the Nine-Tails offshoot in the Twelve Ninja Arc of Shippuden.
3. This is Naruto era, not Boruto era. If you think Naruto Uzumaki & Sasuke Uchiha should be on this poll, then ignore this post & keep scrolling. Itâs not for you.
Genuinely would anyone read a parental yandere dad!Agent stone x teen!reader angst oneshot? I wanted to do something heavily inspired by the song âstep on meâ by the cardigans and âseasons in the sun.â Lemme know gang.
Initially he'd think it was kinda weird and probably have some toxic masculinity type hang-ups about it. They're childish! He's a grown man! He gets infantilised enough without intentionally adding fuel to the fire!
But then he gets hurt again, and someone gifts him a get well soon bear. And he holds it in his hospital bed and it's nice.
Then Chimney gets a photo of him sleeping with it snuggled to his chest and he gets teased about it and he gets embarrassed and puts it on a shelf in his closet and refuses to touch it. (Sometimes he pulls it down. Just to look at. Just to remind him he's loved and worthy of small joys.)
Then he gets isolated for one reason or another. Everybody's got their own families and their own problems and he's just. Buck. Alone in his loft. Nobody's waiting up for him or checking up on his wellbeing.
And he lies in his bed, buried in blankets despite the LA heat. And his skin still aches with longing.
He's not going back to Buck 1.0. He's not going to have more meaningless flings for ten minutes of skin contact if he's lucky that leave him feeling emptier after than he did before.
He buys a weighted blanket on a whim after a research binge and it helps. But he still wants.
He caves and pulls down the bear, desperate enough to have something to hold against him in his weird little nest of self pity and touch starvation that the skin hunger outweighs everything that once held him back.
And it helps.
It's not a perfect solution and it doesn't fix anything. But it makes it easier to breathe, just a little, under the weight of everything.
After a bad shift, he buys more.
It becomes a slightly shameful secret. He knows from Chimney's response to him falling asleep with the bear in the hospital that it's definitely not something he can let on about.
Anyway this can go anywhere from age regression to cuddle time with the squad to crashing out when they find out (maybe there's a call and Buck knows waaay too much about plushies and tries to claim it's from looking for gifts for Chris/Jee but it's clearly something more), or just Tommy or Eddie finding out and being surprisingly fine with it, even thinking it's cute, especially if Taylor was weirded out by it in their relationship.
I just think that man deserves an uncomplicated cuddle from time to time that's not entrenched in trauma and history and pain. He's such a texture boy too, he'd love sinking his hands into different furs and materials, playing with ears and tails between his fingers. He'd cry into their soft fluff and then later cry again trying to clean his tears and snot from them without causing damage.
Maybe when he was a kid he didn't have plushies. He saw one in a box - a soft looking dog with floppy ears and big eyes - but the second his parents saw him holding it they freaked out and took it away and shouted at him and sent him to his room and he didn't think he'd ever seen them angrier. He didn't know it was Daniel's, that they'd almost chosen to bury him with it before deciding to keep it for themselves. It put him off until adulthood. Until that little Get Well Soon gift.
Alternate idea, changed after publishing this, the canon part XX link is here.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Kit was wary about following Ambrose down a very dark, a very concrete set of stairs. âIf this is the fucking torture basement I woke up in initiallyââ
Ambrose waved the accusation away, as if it was daft for Kit to be wary. âItâs to the garage,â he told him, keying a code into the pin-pad beside the metal door.
Ambrose walked through the door and held it open, rolling his eyes when he noticed Kit still lingering at the top of the stairs.
âCome on.â
âIâm not going to willingly follow you into your torture dungeon.â
Ambrose blinked, tilting his head. âThe sex dungeon is two floors down, Mallory.â
Ambrose laughed at the face that Kit pulled. âCome on. I can always force you to come if I want, and weâre kind of a time crunch here.â
Kit glared daggers at the man and begrudgingly walked down the stairs. He stopped at the last step, trying to get a peak into the room. Ambrose walked away from the door letting it close before Kit could. Kit lunged forward to catch the heavy metal door, but relaxed immediately when he saw it was in fact a garage.
Kit let out a long low whistle after stepping into the garage. The door shut with a buzzer after him. Ambrose opened a lock box with keys hung up in a numbered order.
He grabbed the keys named â01â.
âYouâre such a control freak,â Kit snorted. âDo you have OCD or something?â
Ambrose shrugged, taking off through the cars covered by different tarps. The only car that wasnât covered was the one closest to the garage door. The same car that Ambrose kidnapped Kit in last night.
He hated that Ambrose had a good taste in cars. He hated that Ambrose had this many cars when Kit couldnât even afford one, nevermind a garage full.
Ambrose grinned at Kit over the roof of the Wraith as he unlocked the door. âIf you like, I can give you one of the ones I donât like.â
Kit rolled his eyes. âI thought I told you to stay out of my head,â he said, opening the door and climbing into the passenger seat. The cream leather was so comfortable under him as he put his seatbelt on.
âSeriously,â Kit went on, anger curling around him the more comfortable he became with all of Ambroseâs luxury. âDonât you have any thoughts of your own?! Itâs fucking creepy, man. Just ask questions if you want to know my thoughts.â
Ambrose laughed as he opened the garage door with a remote and they rolled out of the house and onto the road again.
âI mean, donât you have any friends?â Kit demanded hotly. In all honesty, he didnât know why he was getting pissed all of a sudden, itâs not like Ambrose invading his mind was a new thing, but now? It pissed him off. âDonât you know how to talk to people?!â
âRelax, Mallory. Youâre the only person I relay their thoughts to. It might shock you, but generally, people love when you know what theyâre thinking. Itâs why humans seek connection. To feel understood.â
âOkay, Socrates,â Kit grumbled. âItâs just fucking weird. I donât like it when you do it.â
âAll of a sudden.â
âYes!â Kit snapped, glaring at the villain beside him as the forest zoomed past them. âAll of a sudden!â
What had Ambrose seen? What parts of him did he know? Could he see everything or was it selective?
âAfter you found out Iâm Mentorâs son,â Ambrose said pointedly. Kit scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring out the passenger window. They drove in a terse silence for a while, cause Ambrose was a psychopath and didnât have the radio on.
âWe have to talk about it, Kit.â
âWell, you already know my thoughts on it all, so enjoy having a conversation by yourself.â
âMallory,â Ambrose said with a tired sigh, flicking on the indicator as they pulled to a stop. âI know it must seem like a weird coincidence to you, but I swear I didnât know you were Mentorâs sââ
Kitâs hands tightened into fists. Son. He was about to say son.
âProdigy,â he settled on, taking a right and messing with the gears until they were coasting again. The air seemed tighter. âI didnât know that he meant anything to you. I swearâ I just assumed that when you were scared of me turning you into him, that you had heard the horror stories in the academy, or Superhero told you. Not that you⌠not that you were personally affected.â
Kitâs eyes burned as he stared out the window, the forest growing sparser the closer they got to the city. âI didnât know. You have to believe me.â
âAnd if you did?â
Ambrose hesitated.
Kit turned his head to look at him, studying the villainâs reactions.
âAnd if you knew that he was like a father to me.â Like a father, not an actual one. âIf you knew how much it hurt to see a man who plucked me out of nothing be destroyed. Would it have been any different?! Or would you have laughed and rubbed it in like salt in a wound?â
âKitââ
âOh, come off it. Thereâs no one here, Rosey. Itâs only me and you,â Kit said, his voice dripping with a horrible hysterical knowing. âYou can be your usual sadistic, unfeeling, monstrous self and I can tell nobody about itââ
âMalloryââ Ambrose tried to interject but Kit spoke over him again.
âBut you know the funniest part in all this? You already took away the one person who would have given a shit about this! About me, not the Hero. Me. And you made him a monster!â Kit roared, something wet hitting his cheeks and flowing like a stream down his face. âAnd now, because clearly God hates me, I have to team up with you of all people, to go and stop â the one man who ever treated me like a person â from becoming a monster like you.â
The silence was deafening. In some strange way, it was comforting. No electricity crackles or malfunctioning lights accompanied his breakdown with the power dampeners locked around his wrist.
It was cathartic.
They had just pulled into the main road that brought them to the outskirts of the city, the skyline visible over the horizon when Ambrose spoke.
âHe wasnât a hero to me,â said Ambrose quietly, almost imperceptibly. Kit glanced at him, but his eyes settled on the white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.
âDonât fucking tell me you have daddy issues.â When Ambrose didnât answer Kit let out a strangled laugh. Blinking in bewilderment, Kit raised his brows. âAre you telling me you have daddy issues? Mr Big Bad villain?â
âOh fuck off, Mallory. At least I had parents.â
The words stung. They cut deeper than Kit would have ever admitted out loud or shown physically, but Kit knew that Ambrose was in his head after the villain winced.
Shifting in his seat, he said: âIâmâ Iâm sorry, I didnât mean to come off snarky. I justââ Ambrose let out a groan. âYou just rub me up the wrong way.â
âWell whoâs fucking fault is that, dickhead?!â
âDo you want me to explain, or are you just going to argue with me the entire drive to the hospital?â Ambrose snapped. âI can only do one of those things in our limited time, so choose.â
Kit clenched his teeth, glaring forwards at the car in front of them. âFine. Tell me.â
âMentor is my father. As you know, he only rose to prominence within our lifetimes, though you may be too young to remember. Before him, heroes and villains werenât really a thing. There were a couple dotted here and there, but mostly they were vigilantes. The good guys and the bad guys.â
âYeah. I remember learning about that in the academy.â
âRight. So after my father rose in public opinion and word of mouth, well the government started stepping in and trying to regulate it. Which they did and the rest is history, but he wasnât the same heroic good man when he came home.â
Kit swallowed, tightening his fingers into fists. He didnât want to hear this, he realised. He really wanted Ambrose to shut up and not tell him anymore, but he asked for this, didnât he? To know the side of Mentor that Ambrose knew?
âHe wasnât abusive,â Ambrose said softly and Kit released a breath he didnât know he was holding. âNot physically, anyway. When he discovered that I was born with powers he sought to train me, to make me in his image. A family of Superheroes. My Mom, she didnât want that for me. She saw the toll it took on him to be the cityâs saviour everyday, and thatâs when they started fighting.â
Kit sat rigid in his seat, staring forward. He couldnât imagine Mentor figâ well, no. He could, actually. How many times had Kit walked in on Mentor and Mr Silver arguing? Or Superhero trying to tell Mentor that the next step was a bad idea, that it was too risky.
âI trained hard. When he wanted me to push myself, I pushed myself. When he wanted me to commit 100%, I did 200%. It was never enough for him. None of it was. He wanted a son and a wife who adored him, who worshipped the ground he walked on, and instead he had a family. His ego was a problem.â
Kit cringed at that. Even he knew that Mentor wanted people to adore him, no matter who or why. He wanted to be the cityâs saviour, the man on everyoneâs tongue and in their thoughts.
Kit let out a breath of a laugh, running a hand through his hair.
âI guess⌠thatâs why he adopted me, isnât it?â Kit asked, his voice hollow. Ambrose didnât answer, and that was answer enough. God, how could he be so stupid? How could he not have seen that to Mentor, Kit was just some charity project he knew would always support him. Worship the ground he walked on, defend him even when Kit knew he was in the wrong.
Ambrose opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, setting his lips into a thin line.
âMalloryâŚâ
âNo. Itâs okay,â Kit replied, letting out a long breath. âItâs fine, go on.â
Ambrose hesitated, fingers lifting from the steering wheel, before curling around them again. They passed the memorial garden in silence, taking the diversion around the square towards the hospital. They werenât far away now.
âHe started the Hero academy when I was twelve. A school for children with powers to develop their abilities to become heroes. I saw it for what it was though, incentive and resentment. He failed to teach me to control my abilities, and found a fault in me that I couldnât rectify. My ability wasnât flashy enough, or showy enough for him, for the great Mentor.â
âHe wanted a child who would make the world stop and look at them. Someone who was as fast as him, as strong, but not stronger. In his eyes, I may as well have been born with strong charisma because you couldnât see the effect of what I could do, only experience it.â
Kit looked down at his wrist, at the power dampeners locked around it. Lightning was flashy. Lightning gave Kit strength and strong reflexes, he was fast, he was flashy. He trained hard, to the point of exhaustion everyday in the Hero Academy. Not caring if he had no friends. Not caring if he passed out from pushing himself too hard. He just had to be the best. It was all he had. It was all he could do.
It wasnât until he was beating people three years above him that Mentor started to pay him any attention. It felt good at the time. It felt like somebody finally recognised him for what he was.
Mentor made him feel seen. He saw that Kit had put his everything into training, because everything in him was all he had to give.
He didnât have a family to worry about him getting hurt.
He didnât have friends that would mourn him if he died in action.
All he had was being a hero.
Of course Mentor would latch onto that. Of course he would pick up on the fact that Kit was desperately trying to prove himself. Of course he would take pity on the orphan and bring him home like a trophy. Show him off to the world.
But that⌠that wasnât the Mentor that Kit knew.
He brought him home, but it was after Kit denied him so many times. Told him to piss off, and asked if he was a pervert that prayed on boys his age. Kit had grown up on the streets, he knew what happened to skinny kids like him. One day theyâre there, and the next, you never see them again.
Mentor was patient, and kind. He didnât push Kit after Kit said no, told him he had everything he needed in the academy.
âThen my Mother got sick, and wellâŚâ Ambrose said, trailing off, pulling Kit from his memory and back into the car. âAfter she died it was like he⌠he didnât even care. All he cared about was building the city up, saving everyone from possible Villains that lurked in the night. He didnât sit with her in the hospital because he knew he couldnât rescue her. He wasnât there when sheââ
Kit was quiet beside Ambrose, head tilted down. He knew what loss was like. He knew the absence a parent can leave behind, but losing someone who meant that? Kit didnât know how to relate to that. When Omen destroyed Mentorâs mind, it wasnât the same as if he died because Kit could still go and see him. Still talk to him, even if the Mentor he remembered was dead.
âIâm sorry,â Kit said softly. Ambrose cleared his throat, turning his head so Kit couldnât see his face.
âYeah,â he agreed, going rigid. âMe too.â
They drove the rest of the way in silence. It wasnât far. Five minutes in the car, and two minutes to park.
âAre youâŚ?â Kit began, then cut himself off when he met Ambroseâs black eyes. What was he going to say? Are you Okay? Alright with going into see the unfeeling man who wasnât a good father? The man you cursed for beingâŚ
Ambrose shook his head, no. âOf course Iâm fine.â
âOkay,â Kit said with an awkward shrug. They got out of the car, closing the door in unison. Kit thought nothing of it.
It was borderline awkward in the lift. Ambrose kind of just, stood there like a totem pole. His hands behind his back, standing straight up like a serial killer.
âWould you relax?â Kit said, rolling his neck. âYouâre making me nervous.â
âIâm fine.â
âYouâre not.â
âIâm fine,â Ambrose said slowly, voice cold. Kit shrugged and said: âfine.â
He ahead and almost cried in joy when the doors opened to the ground floor. He stopped at the reception desk. Ambrose was walking and stopped when Kit stopped, two steps ahead and glancing back to see what Kit was doing.
He joined him a moment later, standing beside him and glowering at Heather when she turned and beamed at Kit.
âHi Heather.â
âHey, Kit. You goinâ up toââ her big blue eyes trailed to Ambrose beside him, who looked as if he was under a storm cloud, or extremely constipated. âOh. Hi. Is this your brother?â
Kitâs eyes blew wide, but Ambrose didnât hesitate. âYes. Older. Weâd like to seeââ
âI didnât know you had a brother, Kit. Of course, darlinâs, go ahead. Iâll let them know youâre coming.â
Ambrose nodded stiffly and stepped back. Kit blinked, shaking his head, and smiled at Heather. âOh, actually. Was there anything strange with him? Any new visitors orââ
âIâm sorry, hun. Iâm just the receptionist for the main desk. Youâll have to ask the nurses up there.â
Kit clapped him on the back, a wide grin on his face. âLetâs go, bro.â
Ambrose made a noise and Kit had to stifle a laugh until they were in the stairwell. âWhat was that!â He barked, laughter bubbling up his throat.
âIâ panicked.â
âI thought you werenât nervous,â Kit teased. He was turning to walk up the next set of stairs when Ambrose slammed his forearm against Kitâs throat, shoving him back into the corner of the stairwell, pinning him there.
Ambroseâs nostrils flared, his eyes blazing with cold fury down at Kit. âOf course Iâm nervous, you fucking child. Tch. Donât you ever switch off?â
Kit pushed Ambroseâs arm off him, and to his surprise, Ambrose let him, running a hand through his hair and letting out a breath.
The realisation only dawned on Kit, his mouth opening into a small âoâ.
âYouâve never been to see him.â
Ambrose straightened. The villain returning as he stared down his nose at Kit, a sardonic smile on his lips. âAnd why should I? He didnât give my mother that courtesy.â
Kit put his hands up, showing Ambrose he meant nothing by it. âHey. Itâs your decision. Not mine. Heâs your dad, notââ the words choked up before he could say them. Ambrose didnât pry. He knew what Kit was going to say.
Ambrose stared for a moment longer before glancing up the stairs and nodding stiffly.
âYes. Well.â He cleared his throat and started walking up again. âWhat floor is it?â
âThe fifth,â he replied, starting up the stairs beside Ambrose. âTop floor. They donât want anyone stumbling amongst the crazies.â
âProbably for the best,â Ambrose muttered. Kit had meant it as a joke, but, he didnât disagree with Ambrose as they climbed the stairs. Thankful that their footsteps filled the silence he couldnât in the lift. They knew something had happened when they got to the fifth floor.
Kit stepped in first, Ambrose craning his neck around the door into the hall. Police tape on the usually locked door and two police officers stationed outside it like sentries.
Kitâs eyes widened as he half jogged up to the doors. One of the officers placed his hand on Kitâs chest. âIâm sorry, sir. This ward is cordoned off.â
âWhy?â
âIâm sorry sirââ
âTell him.â Ambrose ordered, and Kit shot a glare back at Ambrose, feeling the familiar coldness of Ambroseâs ability brush past him to the Officer.
âThereâs been a security breach,â the officer said. Before he could say anymore a hand snapped onto Kitâs shoulder and he whirled.
Mr Silver stood in front of him with a Doctor that Kit recognised was on Mentorâs case. This couldnât be real. This⌠there was no way thatâŚ
âHi Kit.â
âMr Silver,â Kit replied, nodding at the doctor. âDoctor.â
âHi Kit.â
âWhat is it? What happened?â Kit demanded, but Mr Silverâs eyes went to Ambrose and his expression changed. Recognition flashing across his features. Kit glanced back at Ambrose who looked away from the man in a suit, his jaw clenched.
âOskar?â Mr Silver asked. Kitâs brows rose to the roof, eyes as wide as golf balls. Ambroseâs name⌠Kit studied the villain, assessing whether or not Oskar suited him. Why didnât Ambrose make Silver forget? Make him overlook the fact that he was here? Did he want to be seen? To be known?
âHello, Henry.â Ambroseâs reply wasnât curt or cold. It was a little strained, but, Kit glanced between the two. Were they⌠friends?! What the fuck was going on?
Mr Silver was the first recover, shaking his head. âForgive me. I just⌠never expected to see you both together. I never expected to see you here, Oskar.â
Ambroseâs smile was wry.
âYes, well. Things change.â
Doctor looked between the three bewildered. âIâm sorry, I only know Kit. Are you related to the missing patient?â
âHeâs missing?â Kit and Ambrose said at the same time. Doctor looked between them, then to Mr Silver who nodded.
âYes. Theyâre his sons.â
Kit swallowed at the casual classification of sons.
âYes,â Doctor nodded, his expression troubled. âMentor has been missing since late afternoon, yesterday.â
âIsnât this ward supposed to be locked? Doesnât it dampen powers?â Ambrose snapped.
âIt is,â Mr Silver replied, not at all bothered at Ambroseâs tone. âWhich is why your father couldnât have gotten out alone.â
âYou think heâs working with someone?â
âHe couldnât be,â Kit muttered, raising his head and looking at Doctor. âIâm the only one who ever visited him. Can I see his visitor log?â
Doctor nodded slowly, his hand on his chin. âYes. But I donât think youâll need to check.â
Ambrose cocked an eyebrow. âWhy not?â
âBecause Kit and one other person were his only visitors.â
A muscle in Mr Silverâs jaw clenched as he raised his gaze to Kitâs, sliding a hand into his trouser pocket. âSuperhero, Kit. Heâs the only other person that visited him.â
Kit stared at Silver. A smile cracking his face. This was a joke. They didnât seriously think that Superhero was helping Mentor be a villain, right? Right?
Kit glanced at the Doctor who looked uncomfortable. âYouâre joking.â
âTheyâre not,â Ambrose said, and Kit stiffened beside him. Ambrose must have scanned their brains, going over every possibility, looking over the visiting logs.
Kit felt as if he was being punked. He reached into his jacket pocket, looking for his phone but he didnât find it.
âFuck! I mustâve left my phone at home,â he cursed, looking at Silver. Heâd have Superheroâs number. âMr Silver, can I borrow yours?â
Silver gave him a flat look. âHeâs not picking up, Kit.â
âWell then, the Hero tower orââ
Ambrose pressed his phone into the heroâs hands. âHere.â
Kit glanced up at him, wide eyed. He nodded and walked to the stairwell, away from the trio. He dialled Superheroâs phone and like Silver, no answer. Then he dialled the Hero tower, but hung up when it went through to the automatic receiver. Ambrose had a civilian phone, it wouldnât patch him through.
Finally, he dialled the number of someone he knew would answer, no matter what. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, trying to smoothen it down as he paced the floor below Mentorâs ward. Footsteps echoing against the walls.
It answered on the third ring.
âHello.â A grumbling voice answered.
âSawyer, itâsââ
âMallory. Where have you been?â Sawyer hissed, tone changing immediately. âWeâve been trying to contact you since yesterday.â
âI donât have my phone.â
âWe thought the new Supervillain got you.â
âNoâ wait, what? Why?â
Sawyer hesitated on the other end of the line. Kitâs eyes hardened. âWhy?â He pressed.
âHave you not seen the news? Supervillain has telekinesis, Mallory. Heâs- well, we think itâs Mentor.â
Kit was starting to get really tired of hearing that, though he couldnât deny that this looked⌠bad.
âI know. He has Tides. Have you spoken to Superhero since the attack?â
âNo,â Sawyer snapped. âHeâs missing in the chaos too. The tower is basically running on fumes, itâs like a ghost town.â
âWhat?â
âLook, Kit, I got to go. Itâs fucking mayhem down here. If you find Superhero, call meââ
âButââ
The line went dead. Fuck! FUCK!
He had to get his phone, it was probably still at home and call Superhero and find Tides wherever she was being kept and clear Mentorâs name because thereâsâ thereâs no way this was all Mentorâs doing. He loved the city, why would he want to destroy it now?
And if Ambrose was to be believed, he had double the reason to make sure it stayed perfect. Kit walked up the stairs, back out into the hall of Mentorâs ward.
âWell?â Mr Silver prompted, raising his brows. Only him and Ambrose were left, the doctor probably tending to his patients. They were leaning against the opposite wall, talking in hushed voices when Kit interrupted them.
âNothing. Superhero is missing too.â
Mr Silverâs clever eyes glimmered. âHmm.â
âI know what youâre going to say.â
âDo you?â
âYes. Youâre going to say that all this looks very suspicious but Iâm sure thereâs a logical explanation for it! Likeââ Kit looked between the pair, searching for any kind of sympathetic glance. âLike the security cameras. Surely they mustâveââ
Mr Silver shook his head. âWiped.â
âFrom the whole hospital?â
âKit,â Mr Silver said with a sigh, pushing off the wall and approaching him. âSometimes the most obvious explanation is the answer. Sometimes the only answer, no matter how much we wish it were different.â
Mr Silver put his hand on Kitâs shoulder. âIâm sorry. Right now the most logical explanation is that Superhero has been working with Mentor behind the scenes to destroy the city. He broke Mentor out, and I will put a search warrant out for them both.â
âButââ Kit tried, but it was Ambrose who stopped him with a shake of his head. Kit deflated.
âI wish it was wrong, Kit. But itâs what we have to go on.â
Ambrose stepped off the wall too, approaching the pair. âThank you, Henry.â
âIâm just doing my job.â
âCome on, Kit. We should find your phone.â Kit stared at him, at the man who tortured him just yester-fucking-day, but was somehow the only person he could rely on at the moment.
Kit nodded mutely. He followed Ambrose back down the stairs and to the car. Ambrose didnât offer any words of support, or anything frivolous like that. They just moved in silence.
Maybe he didnât need to say anything, because Ambrose could probably read every thought going though his head anyways. It didnât matter if he did or not. Everything Kit thought he knew or believed in or trusted, none of it mattered because everything was wrong anyways.
Mentor was a villain.
Superhero knew the whole time and helped Mentor plan it.
And now, well, he couldnât even trust Ambrose anymore. The man who was making his life hell is the only fucking person whoâs here with him right now, driving him home to find his phone so he can find some fucking sense in his life that was just flipped completelyâ
âKitâŚâ Ambrose said, his voice like thunder through the overwhelming silence that was choking Kit. âI can⌠I can quiet your mind, if youâd like.â
Kit almost burst out crying. Instead, he glared out the window. âOh Fuck off, Ambrose,â Kit said without any real bite behind it.
âOffers open.â
âYeah, youâd love that. Dickhead.â
âAlright,â Ambrose said, drumming his fingers on the wheel. He turned on the radio. Kit stared out the window.
âThanks.â
Ambrose didnât reply.
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Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie e @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer r @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @m3rakii @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @blood-enthusiast @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @andtheysaidspeaknoww @dutifullykrispyland @mononeigbour @tippytappytyping @shinokoro @bedtimescenarios @whatwhump @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @ehobep @acer-whumpstuff
