Vendetta (XI)
Read part one // Master-post // continued from here
TW: failed suicide attempt
This part is dedicated to @canigetanamenforbritney
I had to split this part into two parts because it was too long, so update soon for this!!
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Hero’s tears dried into tracks of salt on their cheeks, hardened like shells and shale in line on a beach, cutting into their fingers when they scrubbed the crust from their cheeks with their knuckles.
They didn’t want anyone to see their weakness, even if Supervillain knew they were crying, so what? He’d probably see Hero cry again, but out here in the halls… anyone of the other villains could see them, even though they seemed suspiciously empty, purposefully empty. Maybe Supervillain was trying to be kind, not exposing Hero too soon too quickly.
But that didn’t sit right with everything Hero knew about Supervillain…
No, this was tactical emptiness. Maybe to let Hero come to terms with the fact that they were well and truly alone in their knowledge of the how the world used to be, powerless to change it, to even attempt to change it.
Supervillain wheeled them through the varnished wooden floors, and turned right, into an arch where doors should be. A long dining table that could easily seat twenty people dominated the beautiful room. A fire roared in a stone fireplace that took up the middle of the right wall, heating the room with the crackling of wood and coal, painting the air with hues of yellow and gold. Supervillain walked Hero up the length of the table and parked their wheelchair beside the head of the table. Hero noticed two doors that led off to a different room. Maybe a kitchen, Hero couldn’t be sure, and they didn’t really care either.
Supervillain walked around to face Hero. Hero stared up at him. They didn’t have the energy to glare, but somehow, they managed it just fine. Pity Supervillain couldn’t wither under that glare, pity Hero’s power was just power negation.
Wait…
The realisation must have flashed on their face because Supervillain’s expression broke into one of shrewd amusement, appraising Hero’s line of reasoning before he even knew what it was.
“Yes… I’m surprised you thought of that before you’ve had some food, Hero,” Supervillain said, extending his hand to cup Hero’s cheek. Hero lifted their hand with an effort and put it on Supervillain’s wrist and sucked at his magic thrumming below his skin. Supervillain smirked. Hero stared. “Do you want to stay like this all day, sweet Hero?”
Hero swallowed. Their tongue darted out of their mouth to wet their dry lips.
“Or would you rather I call in someone to demonstrate how this trick won’t work on me and my ability?” Hero stiffened under Supervillain’s hand as he raised his head and called a name that made Hero freeze in their seat.
The door to the left opened and trainee Hero stepped out. His hair was the same chocolate brown, his skin the same varnished bronze, but his eyes were a little glazed over. Hero lurched over the edge of the chair, but Supervillain righted them, so they were facing Supervillain and not able to see trainee Hero.
“Super—”
“Sorry to take you away from your duties, young Trainee Hero,” Supervillain said, his smile as sharp as Hero’s blades. He was delighted that Hero’s attention was fixed solely on him, feeding off it. It made Hero sick. “I just have a question to ask, do you know my guest here?”
Footsteps. Hero trembled, they realised belatedly, shivering like a chihuahua in the stupid fucking wheelchair. Brown eyes found Hero’s and Hero swallowed as they felt the familiar ghost of unfamiliarity roam their features, searching for a sliver of recognition.
Hero pulled harder at Supervillain’s abilities under his skin, wincing as they pulled too much and their body thrummed with unused energy, buzzing around their blood like a live electric wire.
“No,” Trainee Hero said blankly. “Should I know who they are?”
Before Supervillain could speak Hero leaned over the chair and grabbed at Trainee Hero’s uniform. “Your sister was a water hero, and you always wanted to be as good as she was.” Hero desperately asserted. They reached to Trainee Hero’s hand and tried to negate Supervillain’s ability from within Trainee. Trainee Hero’s eyes went wide, going between Supervillain and Hero wildly.
“My sister was a hero in a pointless war,” he said hotly, balling his fists at his sides. “She is a traitor and should he have treated as such.”
Hero’s eyes widened. “What? A traitor? She… she became a hero to protect you and your—”
“Alright, Hero. Enough,” Supervillain said as Trainee Hero became visibly agitated. “That’s all we need from you. Return to your duties.”
“Wait!” Hero cried and jerked forward, moving to get out of the chair when Supervillain pushed them back down.
“Wait! Supervillain has brainwashed you—” Hero screamed, struggling against Supervillain’s hands and trying their best to ignore the wild, satisfied smirk on his face. Why wasn’t he trying to stop Hero revealing his trickery? Why was he just smiling? “He’s manipulated your memories! Your sister was—”
Hero flinched at the sound of the door shutting. Their words died on their lips, choked from their tongue. They raised terrified and furious eyes to Supervillain’s icy blue who leaned away and dropped his hold of Hero altogether. Hero continued to tremble so violently that their teeth chattered.
“I told you Hero. Your ability cannot stop what I’ve done. It’s too late.”
Hero flinched when a fresh droplet of water fell onto their cheek but recoiled when Supervillain rubbed the tear away tenderly. His expression warm and kind, compassionate and sympathetic, as if he understood how hard this was for Hero. As if he had any idea how fucking disoriented Hero felt after they woke up in this new world.
“It’s okay, Hero. It will be a swift, but difficult adjustment period for you, but you’ll understand with time.” Hero didn’t bat his hand away. They didn’t have the energy. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here to squash all your rebellious ideas and attempts at undoing my… what did you call it?” He asked, his head tilted. His smile turned lopsided at the edges. “Brainwashing? Yes. That’s a good word for it from your perspective, I suppose.”
“You mean the true perspective?!” Hero demanded. This time they did slap Supervillain’s hand away, anger making their blood hot. “Before your generals and yes men filled your head with sawdust huh?!”
They didn’t want to be in the same room as him, never mind put up with his faux compassionate touch. Hero could endure a lot, but they refused to endure that. They refused to see Supervillain as anything more than a monster.
They hated that the memory of Supervillain talking so honestly and openly in Superhero’s office played on their mind at that moment. How logical and insufferably rational he was when he spoke…
But most of all, they hated the fact that they didn’t actually believe, deep down, that Supervillain was a bad person. They were just on different sides of a war. Hero thought they were right, right enough to fight against Supervillain and the other villains that were against them.
God, how long had they been fighting? How long did the war go on for? They couldn’t remember… isn’t that a ridiculous thing? They couldn’t remember the time before the war, who they were before… what they were like before they were a general and a soldier.
Supervillain straightened. He sighed and turned his back to Hero which was laughable if it wasn’t so pathetic. Supervillain really had the audacity to turn his back on Hero? As if they weren’t a threat?
Hero could only watch as Supervillain pulled a chair out from the table and turned back to Hero. “Do you need help to get out of the chair?”
Hero stared at him. “What?”
“You’re not eating for the first time in a year in a wheelchair, Hero. I may be an enemy in your eyes, but I’m not an animal.” Hero’s stare hardened into a glare. Supervillain sighed. “Fine. You can struggle to it yourself.”
Hero swallowed as Supervillain took the seat at the end of the table, to the left of the chair he pulled out for Hero. They glanced at the short distance between the wheelchair and the table. They could make it. They were fine, they were stubborn enough to make it. Hero planted their hands on the edges of the armrests and set their feet on the ground.
They could do this.
With strength they didn’t have, Hero stiffened their upper lip and pushed themselves into a shaky standing. Their arms shook and protested as Hero made themselves vertical, grunting with the effort as they took a short, risky step away from the chair. They gasped out every last of their oxygen as their foot landed solidly on the ground, gratefulness flooded their body once they remembered Supervillain had parked the brake on the wheelchair, so they didn’t go flying.
See, he wasn’t a bad man.
Hero wanted to kill that small voice in their head more than they wanted to kill Supervillain. It was his fault that they were in this condition in the first place! His fault that Hero couldn’t walk without a gargantuan effort.
Hero took another step in anger unbeknownst to themselves. But now they had another problem. They had to release their hold of the chair and transfer their weight to the front; grab hold of the chair at the table. Supervillain remained silent throughout Hero’s ordeal, but his eyes lingered as Hero struggled.
Hero grunted as they removed one hand from the wheelchair. Steadied themselves. Okay. They were fine. They could do this… they could do this…
They didn’t notice their legs going from under them the moment they lifted their other hand, until they were falling backwards, the ceiling stretching above them. They screwed their eyes shut for the impact.
They didn’t hit the floor. Two strong arms caught them before they could hit the wood and Hero’s eyes flew open in a confusing concoction of relief and rage. Supervillain’s icy blue eyes were more done than furious, but there was a frustration in them that Hero didn’t want to acknowledge.
“You really would let your pride injure you instead of letting me help?”
“Yes,” Hero hissed viciously at him. Supervillain scoffed and shifted his arms under Hero, one under their shoulders and the other under the back of their knees. “Let go of me!” Hero said indignantly as Supervillain straightened.
He walked Hero over to the table and deposited them unceremoniously in the chair they had pulled out before. Before Hero could give him a piece of their mind, their chair was roughly shoved into the table and Hero’s chest hit the wood of the table, drawing an oomph from their lips, winding them.
“You heroes and your ideals, hmm?” Supervillain mused, though there was nothing humorous in his words and his expression was a picture of a storm on a calm sea as he pulled out his own chair and settled gracefully into it. His icy eyes like glaciers seemed like they were trying to freeze Hero’s stubbornness in them, as if he could delve inside Hero like they were a robot with faulty wiring and fix them just like how he wanted them to be.
Hero gulped and fixed themselves in their seat, but the entire ordeal exhausted them, sapped them of their strength, their energy, their will to fight. Even the energy that buzzed from sucking at Supervillain’s and Trainee’s abilities fizzled out to nothing and left them drained.
Thankfully the doors behind Supervillain opened and two people wearing aprons walked in carrying two delicious smelling dishes. Hero’s eyes brightened at the smell; their stomach screamed at them to feast on the scent like it was a tangible thing.
It smelled… was that chicken? And roasted vegetables? Oh, it smelled absolutely divine. Hero didn’t notice that Trainee Hero served them, they just thanked them as they set the plate down.
Their bright eyes dimmed a little, crestfallen as they looked into a bowl – not a plate – of soup. Hero glanced at Supervillain to see his plate had real food on it. Chicken and vegetables. Hero frowned as they stared at their bowl again.
“Hero,” Supervillain said as Hero dropped their spoon. “Your body would reject solid food if you tried to eat it now. You need to start slow.”
“But…” Hero protested, their eyes getting bigger as they stared longingly at Supervillain’s plate. Supervillain softened. “Hero, we have the exact same meal. Yours is just blended so you can actually absorb some of the nutrients.”
Hero looked down at their bowl again. They felt tears pinprick their eyes at the caution and care Supervillain had prepared for Hero’s awakening. They hated it. They hated him.
If Hero wanted to eat chicken, they should be fucking let! After a year! A year of eating nothing!
Because of Supervillain!
“Hero,” Supervillain said, drawing Hero back into the present, back into their body. Hero pushed the bowl away which was a mistake because the smell went straight to their nose and into their gnawing stomach that threatened to eat itself if they didn’t eat anything in the next minute. “Hero, come on now. You don’t want to throw up bile. You haven’t eaten in—”
“A year.” Hero told him cutting into him with a glare. Supervillain slumped a little at their tone, but Hero couldn’t care less. “If you want me to eat so badly, why don’t you call your little dog Grieves in here and fucking make me?”
Supervillain had the audacity to bristle at Hero’s tone. Hero turned their mutinous glare to the bowl of soup in front of them. And the tears started anew.
Gods— fucking… they were getting so sick of fucking crying! They’d only been awake an hour?! Two at most and how many fucking times have they cried in that—
They froze as they felt a pair of strong arms wrap around them. Their brain stuttered and shut down and Hero couldn’t help themselves. They sobbed into the warm chest, fingers like claws in the shirt as their back jerked silently, violently with the weight of every shaking inhale and sharp exhale.
They weren’t this weak, broken thing.
Hero wasn’t weak. They were strong. They were strong, and Supervillain not only won the war – and made everyone Hero knew and loved to forget their existence – but he stole Hero’s strength and left them powerless in this fucking skinny, muscle-less body.
If Hero had their swords in front of them now, they knew they wouldn’t be able to wield them with any of their old dexterity or skill. Would it be like starting again? From scratch? Or riding a bike— Hero didn’t… they didn’t know. They knew they wouldn’t be able to spear or do any real damage to Supervillain, their enemy, who gently comforted Hero, stroking their back and hair as if Hero was a child.
“It will be a steep adjustment,” Supervillain told them after Hero settled down and stared blankly at Supervillain’s chest. They found comfort in the sound of his heartbeat, like Hero wasn’t completely alone, no matter how watery a defence that was. No matter how hard they had to fight the fact that this was all Supervillain’s fault. “But adjust you will, Hero. You’re strong. I know you will adapt quickly to this new world.”
Hero’s eyelids were heavy like shutters, so it took some time and effort to just blink. “And if I don’t?” They mumbled, void of any emotion.
“Then things would be very difficult for you, Hero.” Supervillain pulled back so his cold gaze could catch Hero’s dead one. “If you’re thinking of any petty rebellion, Hero, think again. If you would rather die than endure what I worked so hard to build, to show you, think again.”
Hero looked away. Supervillain grabbed their chin in his hand and forced them to look at him. “If you think you’d rather waste away than eat, you will be fed via a feeding tube for however long it takes to get you back to a healthy weight.”
“You can’t—”
“Oh, I can,” Supervillain promised darkly, his eyes glinted like light off steel. “And I will if you force my hand. I want this to be pleasant for us both, Hero. Please don’t make me go to such lengths to get my way, when we both know I’ll get it no matter what you do, hmm?”
Hero’s tongue seemed to dry up completely in their mouth. “Do you understand me, Hero?”
Hero swallowed. “Yes,” they croaked.
Supervillain smiled. “Good.”
He pulled away and went back to his seat, leaving Hero cold at his absence. Hero grabbed the bowl on the table and dragged it towards them again which took a gargantuan amount of energy and breath.
They picked up the spoon and brought it to their mouth. The divine smell made their glands salivate and they closed their eyes when flavour exploded like fireworks on their tongue. They couldn’t help the moan from escaping them; both from the pain in their gut that screamed for more, and the sheer relief of finally having something slide down their throat to their stomach.
“Good,” Supervillain said with a small smile. “Very good, Hero.”
But Hero didn’t seem to hear him as they brought a second spoon of tan coloured soup to their mouth. Somehow the second spoonful tasted better, and it warmed them from the inside out, as if they were lighting up a fire in an old furnace for the first chill of Winter. Something to warm their bones and their heart, clear the cobwebs out of their ribs.
Hero could only finish half of it before they were full. They stared at the bowl of soup, like if they stared at it long enough, the food would somehow magically transfer from the bowl to their stomach without them throwing it all back up.
Hero lifted their spoon again, determined to finish, when a hand grabbed Hero’s bowl and pulled it away. Hero’s head shot to the hand, grabbing at it, eyes frantic and heated. Supervillain dipped his head.
“You will get more food, Hero, but I think that’s all you can handle at the moment.”
“No!” Hero protested. “I can— I can have more. Please—” they needed to get stronger. They needed it more than they needed air to breathe, or eyes to see. They needed to decide something in their life!
Supervillain pulled the bowl away, and as if on cue the two doors opened, and the waiters came out again. Hero couldn’t do anything except white-knuckle grip their spoon, glaring at the table in front of them.
“Hero,” Supervillain said. For a single, heart wrenching moment, Hero thought about jamming the spoon through their eye. They could do it. They… they could get enough force behind it surely, and then… then they wouldn’t have to suffer this humiliation anymore. They wouldn’t have to live in this world where they were a stranger to everyone they knew and loved. Their mind flashed an image of Vigilante on their eyes and Hero softened. That’s an image they could die to.
Hero jammed their hand up toward their face but was stopped in mid-air, eyes watering as the metal of the spoon was so close to their eye. Their hand shook as they tried to fight against whatever was keeping their arm suspended.
“No!” They cried, grabbing their other hand to try and put some more power behind it. “No! No!”
A hand yanked the spoon from Hero’s grip. The force holding their hand at bay released and Hero punched themselves in the face. Hard enough that their head smacked back against the chair and Hero went cold as they realised that that would have done it. That level of force would have killed them.
“Seems I missed an interesting morning,” a cold voice purred that set all of Hero’s hairs standing on edge. Of course it was Villain. Of course it was. “Hello again, Hero.”
Hero trembled in their chair, their body thrumming with an anxious energy they couldn’t dispel.
“Ah, Villain. Just in time, as usual,” Supervillain said. There was something curt about his tone, like stress or worry. So even he thought Hero was going to die…
What a cruel twist of fate.
“I wouldn’t give them anymore utensils, Supervillain.”
Hero wanted to look. They wanted to turn their head and look so badly at Villain; to see if, like Grieves, Villain would parade Vigilante around as a warning to Hero that they have nobody they could rely on.
“I didn’t think…” Supervillain trailed off. Then footsteps approached and Hero’s chair was yanked back suddenly, turned to face a furious Supervillain. “Why would you do something like that?!” He demanded. “Hero… you cannot… you are not allowed to die; do you understand me?”
Hero didn’t look at him. Instead, they let their eyes drift to Villain who stood smugly at the arch, arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the wall, his black-eyed gaze focused on Hero.
“Hero!” Supervillain snapped. His fingers gripped Hero’s chin and forced their gaze to meet Supervillain’s. A look of concern twisted his features, and he looked strange. Hero stared back at him blankly. “I will keep you restrained if you act this way. Is that what you’d prefer? Hmm? To be treated like a child?!”
Hero let out a helpless scoff that sounded suspiciously like a sob. They grabbed Supervillain’s wrist and yanked it off of them.
“What do you know about what I’m going through! Nobody remembers me! Nobody except you and your band of fucking villains that terrorised me a year ago, that were enemies on the front lines. People I killed,” Hero said, their voice breaking on the word killed. They remembered every life they took. Every single one. “And you won’t even let me forget like you did to all the other heroes. You have given me no mercy,” Hero seethed. “So sorry if I’m feeling a little fucking helpless right now! You have no idea what it’s like! To wake up in a world that looks so similar to the one I left, but have everything look strange, different! You don’t fucking know what that is like! Of course, suicide is my go-to solution!”
For a long moment, silence engulfed the trio, and only Hero’s heavy breathing and the crackling of flames punctured the thick blanket of tension that smothered them.
Supervillain’s icy eyes searched Hero’s face for something, before one side of his mouth curled up into a smirk. “I didn’t give all heroes the mercy of forgetting, Hero.”
Hero stared at him. Their mouth suddenly dry. “What?” they whispered.
Supervillain chuckled darkly. “It wouldn’t be enough to let the heroes get off, as you said, for murdering my people during the war.”
Hero’s heart thundered in their ears, deafening. A solid BOOM, BOOM, BOOM. Other Heroes remembered? Would they remember Hero? Superhero? Would Hero be able to gather them and actually stage an uprising against Supervillain one day? For the first time since Hero woke up, hope bloomed like a rotten flower in the dark cavity of their chest. No sunlight, no water, no oxygen, and somehow the plant bloomed against its nature.
Supervillain straightened to his full height, towering over Hero again. Hero swallowed, suddenly remembering how weak they were, how weak their body was, how they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves if Supervillain decided to attack right now.
“I was going to wait and let you settle in, maybe build up some strength and get accustomed to your new life, your new world before we took a little road trip, but it seems you’re just itching to get as much information as soon as you can. And I wouldn’t want you to feel completely alone, Hero.”
Hero frowned. Something was so wrong about this picture. Supervillain would willingly bring Hero to a group of their past allies and let them speak? Hero looked at Supervillain.
“Do they–”
“Oh, they remember you, Hero,” Supervillain told them with a vicious grin. Hero’s heart thundered in their ears BOOM, BOOM, BOOM. Hero didn’t care about all the warning signs that screamed at them that this was a trick, something Supervillain would let them hope for, a beacon of light in the darkness, only to be snuffed out when Hero finally reached it. But they couldn’t help the rot flower of hope that wrapped its thorns around Hero’s throat and sucked all the moisture from their mouth. “Would you like to go and see them?”
Hero could only nod. Supervillain’s expression sharpened.
“Excellent.”
*~*~*~*~*
Continued here
Fun challenge for you if you like this story — whoever can guess what Supervillain’s done with the other heroes, I will dedicate the next part to you (however many guess it doesn’t matter hehehe, GOD I LOVE THIS FUCKING FIC)
Tag-list— @micechomper @aarika-merrill @silentpotat0 @dutifullykrispyland @gloriousqueen101
