Good luck with the iv! If you want a prompt, how about "superheroes"?
Ihni! this got away from me (kept me occupied 😅) thank you for the prompt! 💜
"Need a hand, Pretty Boy?"
Steve would roll his eyes if he wasn't right in the middle of fighting off some goon with a machete in a knockoff Soviet military get up.
Once he's broken the guy's wrist and kicked the blade safely off the roof (yes, he'll retrieve it from the fire escape later, Hop) he turns to face Painkiller, gives him a nice big eye roll, so it'll be clear even behind his mask, even from where the vigilante is lounging, up high on a water tank, "Not my name," Steve tells him.
He has to do a quick two-step to dodge one of machete guy's buddies who tried for a low tackle while his back was turned.
Painkiller shouts down from his perch, very much not actually helping despite his offer, "Yeah, but Kid King was a stupid name when you actually were a kid, and you've got to be pushing twenty now," Steve's twenty-two actually, thanks for asking, "When's The Chief gonna let you put on some big-boy pants? When are they gonna let you off the leash, huh?"
Steve trips one of The Kremlin's (stupid fuckin villain name) henchmen into the path of the one charging at him with a lead pipe so they go down in a heap together. Then turns, again, to Painkiller, throws his arms wide, "You see a leash anywhere on me, asshole?"
Steve's been patrolling solo for a couple years now. Even if he's still technically Hopper's sidekick, he's progressing. He's climbing the ladder. And, if he's had the... conversation with Hop a half dozen times in the last couple months about how it doesn't really feel like he is, and it seems like Eleven had leapfrogged past him even though she's five years younger just because she's got powers (and what's a guy like Hop doing with a powered sidekick anyway?), then that's absolutely none of this blonde bitch's business. Because Steve's a team player.
Unlike Pain-in-the-Ass, who showed up one day, out of the blue, with just a bandana covering his face, notorious Mob boss Neil Hargrove's dead body under his boot, and an extensive dossier in his hand that posthumously tied him to a laundry list of stomachturningly awful crimes that no one had been able to pin on him while he was alive.
Who flipped off every licensed hero (big name ones too) who tried to offer him an apprenticeship after that. Skipped sidekicking altogether and flew totally solo, which isn’t how it's been done since, like, the fucking 40s. Which is why he’s still classed as a vigilante.
Why, four year's later, no one's sure of the extent of his powers. Even though he clearly has some kind of powers, nobody walks off the kind injuries Painkiller regularly does without some kind of enhancement. Steve saw him get hit by a truck last week, but tonight, as he jumps down to the level of the roof Steve is on, he looks totally fine. He's got pep in his goddamn step, in his costume that makes a big, defiant point of it. Enough bare skin to scream, Look, ma, no body armor!
"That's so sad, man," Painkiller tsks as he grabs up the lead pipe that got dropped and cracks that last mook standing across the face with a sickening crunch.
He steps over the prone forms of all the other henchmen Steve has laid out and ziptied. He gets right up in Steve's face, "You don't even see it."
Steve is not in the mood tonight.
Because Hop is handling some kind of death ray situation right now, while Steve runs minor interference on the perimeter. Because Nancy's pulling further away everyday, when her coverage of heroes has gotten hostile enough to the whole concept recently that the paper won't run them, and then somehow he's the bad guy when he points out that yeah, obviously they won't print that, Nancy, what did she expect? And there's a whole gaggle of kids in their first domino masks nipping at his heels, progressing in leaps and bounds while Steve's stalled out, and shunted aside.
Steve is so not in the mood.
"You know what I see?" he sneers down his nose, working the bare inch he has on this guy, "I see a tiger hunting rats."
Painkiller laughs like he doesn't really get it, "What?"
"You're scared," Steve says, and the guy stops laughing. "You could be in the Big Leagues in a goddamn second. You're what, indestructible? Got super strength? Electrokinesis?" That last one was a bit of a risk, but Steve's almost sure he's seen him wield lightning in controlled little bursts when he thinks he can get away with it. The gamble pays off, the way those blue eyes widen means he's right, and also right that, "You hide it."
Steve scoffs, prods the ostentatiously bare chest infront of him with two fingers, "You waste your time picking off lowlifes any schmuck with hand-to-hand training could handle because it makes you feel strong."
Steve prods him again, harder, and he sways back a step, even though Steve's just some schmuck, "You're not a vigilante because you don't want anyone telling you what to do, it's because you don't want anyone to know what a scared-" prod, "little-" prod, "boy you are," and one last prod for good luck.
Steve's basically expecting it when the shock and, yeah, fear on Painkiller's face switches lightning fast to anger.
He expects the punch too. Deliberately provoking a guy with super strength, probably not Steve's smartest move.
When he comes to the sun is just starting to rise, and Hopper is crouched over him, tapping his cheek relatively gently, "There you go, kid," he says when Steve starts to come around. "One of 'em get the drop on you?" he asks gesturing to the hog-tied goons scattered around the rooftop.
"Uh, sort of," Steve says, sitting up slow.
Hopper's cowl is hanging loose around his neck, he's sweaty and dirty and favoring his left side pretty obviously. Steve straightens up quickly, "What happened with the weapon? Where's El? Is she okay?"
"Slow down, kid," Hop lays a heavy hand on his shoulder to keep him from shooting to his feet to fast and probably face planting, "El's fine, tired, but fine. She's resting up with Joyce, where I was expecting you to be," he says pointedly.
"It was touch and go for a bit, but we got lucky, actually. It exploded," Steve blinks, "Generators overloaded and the the whole thing just," Hop times a little explosion with his hands, "Power is out on the east side, fried a big chunk of the grid. Couldn't handle the electric load I guess."
Steve... doesn't blink. But he thinks... for a long time.
