Thursday - part III
part I - part II
Tuesday
It took Civilian a few moments to adjust to their surroundings when they woke up on the couch the following day. They tossed a blanket they didn’t remember putting on to the side, yawning. Sunlight shone through the closed blinds. It seemed to be mid-morning already. They stood, smoothing their rumpled clothes, before starting down the hall to their room. Halfway there, they heard a muffled voice coming from the kitchen. As Civilian approached, they could only make out a few words, most of them curses. Slowly, they peeked inside the room, one hand resting on the doorframe.
At the table, Villain was leaning over an enormous binder, flipping back and forth through the pages. Each time they turned one, they muttered something colorful under their breath. A mug and an empty coffee pot sat precariously on the edge of the table, liable to fall with one shift of the binder. After a few seconds, Villain’s head lifted suddenly, as if they had just sensed Civilian’s presence. The circles underneath their eyes were dark, the kind Civilian would have to cover up after a long night of doing Hero’s paperwork. It was still odd to see them in normal clothes, as they had been on Sunday. No costume, no mask. Just a regular person anyone could brush past on the street a million times and never take note of. Well. Maybe Civilian would. “Good morning,” Villain said, returning their attention to the binder after a moment’s pause. “I have… something to talk to you about, once you’re ready.”
Civilian stifled a yawn. “Okay.” They supposed a conversation was inevitable, however uncomfortable both of them were around the subject of Civilian’s captivity. With a last flick of their eyes to Villain’s hunched form, they started down the hall again to their room.
A few minutes later, they returned to the kitchen with damp hair and a new outfit just as neutral as the previous one. Villain had brewed a new pot of coffee for them. The bitter scent filled the air, reminding Civilian of countless early mornings at the office. They poured themself a mug and sat in the other chair, looking at their captor from across the tiny table.
Villain was the first to break the silence. “I don’t have any creamer or sugar,” they said apologetically. “You can probably tell I don’t spend that much time grocery shopping.”
“Seems like you do spend plenty eating yogurt, though.” Civilian recalled all of the containers they’d seen in the fridge.
Villain’s laugh caught them both off guard, somehow sharp and warm at the same time.. “You noticed?”
The corners of Civilian’s mouth turned upward. “Hard not to.” They took a sip of their coffee and gestured to the binder. “What’s this?”
Villain leaned back on their chair, huffing a sigh. “These are all the files I have on Hero—their powers, their associates, their deals, everything. I’ve been compiling it since they became my nemesis.”
“Am I in there?”
They flipped to a page near the very back of the binder. There were only a few lines written and no picture. “It was a lot harder to find anything out about you. I don’t know why, but Hero updated security after firing their last assistant. That’s why I didn’t recognize you when you showed up. Usually, I would have. I should’ve dug deeper—it’s dangerous for Hero to have a card up their sleeve like that.”
Civilian’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “I can’t believe you said all that so nonchalantly. You’re such a stalker.”
“I am not!” Villain bristled at the assessment. Civilian’s brows rose higher. “Well, I am,” they admitted, fidgeting with the hem of their jacket. “But that’s my job. It's yours, too, though, you knew what you were signing up for.”
“In my defense, I never imagined this,” Civilian pointed out.
“Fair.” Villain was quiet for a moment. “I figured I owe you an explanation. This all must be… confusing.” That was an enormous understatement, but Civilian nodded. “Hero is a manipulator. They puppeteer this entire city according to their whims. I never know what their next step is. Since they chose me as their nemesis, I’ve tried to get closer, learn more about their plans.”
“Hence, the binder,” Civilian said, gesturing to the monstrosity in front of them.
They gave a rueful smile. “Yes. Anyway, I don’t know if you’ve realized, but I haven’t fought Hero in weeks.”
Civilian blinked. It seemed like the two were always fighting, every instance just blended into each other. “Really?”
“Usually they’ll contact me at least once a week. Sometimes it's taunts or a tip, sometimes it's to tell me to meet them. Often they stop by while I’m working, to fight or just to see what I’m doing. They like to keep tabs on people.”
“Reminds me of someone else I know.”
“Well, you know what they’re like, don’t you?”
Civilian shrugged. “Kind of. They tend to keep their distance from me. They’re almost never in the office. I go in in the morning and find a new stack of paperwork and a bunch of reports to fill out. When they’re there, they just ask me to make them coffee or order food.”
“I guess I’m not surprised,” Villain mused. “But the point is, I wanted to know what they were up to. I told Other Villain and some others I know Hero talks to that I had big plans for Thursday. Nothing specific, something about Town Hall and a few innocent lives in danger.”
“You baited them,” Civilian said slowly, “and they sent me to call your bluff.”
“Hero doesn’t like to be toyed with. I should’ve known better. But before they stopped fighting me, I felt like I was close to uncovering something.”
“A conspiracy?”
“How Hero can pull so many strings, keep everything running the way they want.”
“Maybe they’re scared you’ll uncover whatever it is they’re hiding.”
Villain scoffed, running a hand through their hair—a gesture so human it took Civilian by surprise. “Hero isn’t scared of anything. Least of all me.”
Civilian shook their head, “I can’t believe you’re what’s under the mask.”
The criminal stared at them with a confused half-smile. “What do you mean?”
“You’re so… normal. When Hero told me to deliver that letter, I was terrified. I’d always thought that anything I did for them was for the good of the city, so I went through with it. But you’re not scary at all.”
There it was again: that laugh Civilian didn’t know what to make of. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t repeat that to anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“So why did you do any of this in the first place? Why did you become Villain?”
In answer, Villain raised their hand in the air. The binder moved along with it, as if it was being pulled up by an invisible string. With a slight shift of their finger, the binder flew to the other side of the room, landing with a small thump on the counter. “I can move things with my mind. You have to do something with that kind of power. Why not crime?” They gave a dumbfounded Civilian a self-satisfied grin, but it quickly faded. They leaned forward, eyes overtaken by an oddly intense look. “I work very hard to keep the mask up. It's the only way I can keep any semblance of sanity in a life like this. I don’t have any family or friends because it's too dangerous for anyone to know me. I save the real version of myself in this house so I don’t lose my mind. I like books and detective movies. I like yogurt. That’s the real me, and only Hero knows that.”
Civilian rocked their nearly-empty mug from side to side. “And now me.”
Villain raised and lowered one shoulder. “You’re like an extension of Hero. You don’t count.”
“Excuse me?!”
“I-that’s not-I didn’t-“ Villain sputtered, eyes widening. “That’s not what I meant! I didn’t try to hide any of this because Hero knows anyway, and you’re their assistant, so there’s no point! You’re not-I mean, you’re nothing like them-“
Civilian’s peal of laughter interrupted them, lasting long enough for a Villain to hesitantly join in. “You’re weird, you know that?”
“Actually, I’ve just had it on good authority that I’m shockingly normal and well-adjusted,” they replied primly.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Can’t I have this one thing?”
Civilian threw up their hands. “I’m a prisoner in this house! Let me have my fun, you scoundrel.”
“Scoundrel?!” Villain put a hand over their heart, feigning betrayal. “Do you really think of me like that?”
“Give me a few seconds and I can come up with something much worse.”
“I think I liked it better when you were paralyzingly afraid of me.”
“You mean when you choked me half to death?”
Villain winced. “I did apologize for that.”
“Not nearly enough!”
“I’m sorry! I thought my whole life had been compromised!”
“It’s not like anyone would believe me anyway if I told them you secretly loved yogurt!”
The two looked at each other, little smiles playing on their faces. Civilian wondered how long it had been since Villain had talked to someone openly like that. Probably not since they donned their criminal persona and become subject to Hero and their whims. They may have been able to salvage a life for themself, but it wasn’t much of one.
After a while, Villain stood up abruptly, pushing in their chair with a scrape. “I should take care of a few errands. I can pick up a few things from your apartment, too, if you want.”
“Sure, some toiletries and clothes would be nice. Maybe a few books.” Anything to stave off the boredom.
“Okay.” Villain moved to leave the room.
“Wait, don’t you need to know the address?”
The criminal half-turned to face Civilian, their guilt apparent. “…uh. Yes?”
“I thought you didn’t have much on me!”
“Well, I didn’t know what you looked like, but an address is easy enough to find. You can read through the files if you’d like, by the way. Not exactly a fun read, but there’s some good information in there.”
Civilian shook their head in mock disgust. “Stalker! Scoundrel!”
“All right, I get it, I’m leaving!” Villain offered them a final smile before disappearing out of the doorway.
Civilian sat at the kitchen table for a little longer, eventually getting up to pour out the cold dregs from their coffee mug. They spent most of the rest of the day reading through Villain’s files, which were so dense they found themself nearly falling asleep on the binder multiple times. Most of it was about Hero and their plots over the years—or at least the few details Villain had managed to discover about them. There were hundreds of question marks and crossed-out statements, along with blurry pictures and names that Villain had marked as ‘definite aliases.’ Every page made Hero look worse and worse, uncovering their criminal associates and what they’d threatened people with to get them to assist in their schemes. But none of those schemes seemed to have a clear point or end goal aside from keeping as many people as possible under Hero’s thumb. Civilian marked the pages that seemed to have the most significant information with some sticky notes they’d found to talk about with Villain later.
When Villain got home later that night, they dropped off Civilian’s things from their apartment outside the spare room door. They found Civilian watching another old movie on the couch. They weren’t asleep yet, but their eyes kept closing for longer and longer periods. Villain sat a foot or so away from them. It was strange how much their eyes were drawn to Civilian rather than the movie. It certainly wouldn’t help them get past the stalker accusation, but… they couldn’t help it.
Before Civilian could fully drift off, Villain turned off the TV. “There’s no way you’re going to make it through the rest of that.”
“Try-“ Civilian’s own yawn cut them off. “Try me.”
“Come on, it's late.”
“And what exactly do I have to do tomorrow besides sit here like a damsel in distress?”
Villain arched an eyebrow. “Are you in distress?”
“A horrible evildoer turned off my sole source of entertainment for the night, so, yes,” Civilian said sleepily, burrowing deeper under their blanket.
They snorted. “Hardly. Now, are you getting up or not?”
“You could carry me to bed with your mind.”
“No chance.”
“Worth a shot.” Civilian stretched, yawning again before tearing off the blanket and getting to their feet. “Good night, scoundrel.”
Villain rolled their eyes. “Good night, Civilian. Sleep well.”
“How am I supposed to do that in the home of such an incorrigible fiend?” Civilian wondered while they made their way out of the living room.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out,” the criminal called after them, unable to stop the smile tugging at their mouth.
That night, just as predicted, Civilian fell asleep as soon as their head hit the pillow. Villain lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the image of a face lingering in their mind’s eye, wondering how they were going to make it past Thursday.
part IV
@sausages-things @chaotic-orphan @and-we-shake-the-iron-hand
