A few Anti-Hero AU doodlies of Hero and RGB after they fail to save the world, the first time RGB gets Hero to smile/laugh after the fact, and some soft sleepy healing buckos to make up for it <3 (in that order)
Bonus piece of writing (poetry? Kinda?) under the cut! (It's also on AO3 as well)
The sickly white light that streamed through the window cast the room in harsh light and sharp shadows.
They kept the curtains closed.
There was something different about the grief that split Hero’s chest open and threatened to tear her apart–the guilt that stirred and burned in her stomach like a hot coal begging to be doused. A great big hole had opened up inside of her and swallowed up everything that made her her.
There was something different about the way RGB held her–the way he would see her shaking, picking at her hands, or chewing on her lip to try to abate the burning in her eyes and the lump in her throat. He would guide her hands apart, or ease her lip out from between her teeth, or rest his hands gently on her shoulders, then fold her into his arms and hold her until the hole inside of her stopped being so hungry or the coal stopped sizzling in her stomach.
There was something different to his words. He no longer talked as often, or as loud, because Hero heard the colors dripping down the front of his screen. The cyan that perpetually flowed freely, and the yellow that followed it. But, amidst the sadness and fear, the grief and guilt and anguish she knew he felt just as deeply as she did, she could see green, plain as day when he turned his screen to her and smiled with wobbly test bars and heavy shoulders.
When he spoke, it was quiet. Soft.
“There, there,” he said one night while Hero failed to remember how to breathe. “I’ve got you, my love. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
When Hero would reach for his cane, he offered his hand instead.
He was so gentle.
Everything outside had been sliced apart and bled out until nothing remained. Outside was brutal, and sick, and dead.
But inside, with the curtains closed, she was held on the bottom bunk of her bed, wrapped up in her blankets in RGB’s lap. His chest was warm where she leaned into it, looking at the book he read from in one hand while the other smoothed across the top of her head.
His voice was deep, and smooth, and very nearly succeeded at putting her to sleep.
Sometimes his voice would shake. She would ask if he was okay, and he would pause before tilting his head, dripping green and cyan, and he would ruffle her hair without answering.
Sometimes he would jolt awake in the small hours of the night, just like she would. His screen would leak until his lap was full of liquid color. Hero would find him on the bottom bunk, screen in his trembling hands, and she would crawl in front of him and pull his telly-head into her arms before she was wrapped in his. He held her so firmly Hero would think he was afraid of her disappearing.
There was something different about the way they held each other together when all they wanted to do was shatter apart.
