Hero/Villain blurb cuz why not
I just found this on my computer and totally forgot I even wrote it lol. I think I was too embarrassed to post it, but I have started to get to know a lot more people in the Whump Community (and of course y’all are so lovely 😍). No whump in this just hero/villain angsty stuff (maybe even a bit fluff?) but if anyone is interested in a follow-up, I’d like to do some flashbacks of the whumping which has already commenced.
TW: mental health/illness discussions and hospitalization for these circumstances; nervous breakdown; references death/grieving; unhealthy relationship dynamic obvi;
What to Know: Hero is put in the hospital following a nervous breakdown. Hero expected to see the counselor/social worker who interviewed them when they initially arrived about a day ago...but it looks like there are other plans!
The meeting room of the hospital–where families are often taken to be informed of and grieve their lost loved one—is a sickening off white. It’s overall appearance is bland, as if someone tried to make it something but got a budget cut halfway through. Yellowing curtains partially conceal a small window; a faded, second-hand painting of a rose in a grubby yellow frame hangs somewhat crookedly next to it. A simple, bronze cross hangs on the adjacent wall, casting an odd, almost foreboding aura in combination with the buzzing fluorescent lights.
In the center of the room, a faux-wood table stands, along with two chairs reminiscent of an 80s cafeteria, across from each other. A transparent orange pill bottle filled to the brim with large, chalky pills sits precisely in the center of the table between Hero and Villain, each of whom sit beneath the weight of a sticky silence. Villain refills two styrofoam coffee cups with water from a small pitcher and the two stare at each other, cautiously, whilst taking a sip–Villain like a snake watching its prey, and Hero like a Chihuahua pretending to be a pitbull.
Tension is visible in the Hero’s shoulders as their adrenalized state translates via flickering eyes, taking in every inch of the prospective threat before them. The lack of their usual unruffled, confident demeanor has shaken them to their core, making them feel like a foreigner on their own body. So, they do their best to maintain composure in order to save face despite their mounting angst.
Villain, on the other hand, sits with their legs crossed almost delicately, sipping politely from the cup in one hand whilst the other drapes lazily over the back of their chair. They study the Hero with their stunningly cunning and calculating abilities, taking in the panic that becomes increasingly obvious on the Hero’s face as they sit in that awful silence. Their eyes drift down to the Hero’s hand when they reach for their cup and awkwardly bring it to their lips. . .Villain recognizes a bruise just barely breaking into the stage of yellowing around its edges. Their eyes dart back up to meet the Hero, still scanning the Villain’s seemingly indecipherable features.
There is a gentle knock at the door. “Is everything okay in there, sir/ma'am? Do you need anything?”
“No, thank you, Bruce,” the villain responds coolly. Hero’s cheeks redden; their aggression the day before has made them a flight risk, which to them is as basically a basket case. Villain just resumes sipping their water calmly, as if watching birds eat bread crumbs at the park. Hero tightens their fist until their knuckles turn white; they just can’t take the suffocating silence any longer.
“Why are you doing this?” they blurt out.
The villain smiles amusedly. “You know, Hero, the secret used by therapists and interrogators always getting their clients to do the talking, is that they play what I call ‘the quiet game’. If I don’t speak, 9 times out of 10 the client will. A reliable ‘ol classic, that one. Kills two birds with one stone.”
“What did you do with my actual therapist?” the Hero demands guardedly.
Villain purses their lips and shakes their head at the Hero, mock-chastising them.
“I didn’t KILL them or anything, Jeez. Have a little faith in me, huh?” Hero tenses as a nervous breath catches in their throat and exhales shakily. Villains glances up attentively from their cup as they take in the Hero’s distrust. They’re cognizant of how the discomfort Hero is stewing in could be disastrous if they don’t establish at least a little bit of trust, and soon. They reach into their pocket and after a few moments of digging retrieve a laminated card. Villain tosses it on the table in front of the Hero, who flinches.
Almost timidly they inch forward to read the small, typed print and examine the photograph.
“VILLAIN - LMFT (Licensed Marriage Family Therapist) - #9466 - 10/04/17 — expires 10/04/22”
Hero’s mouth gapes in utter incredulity. The photo is definitely Villain. A bit younger, the laugh lines they now sport are less visible and perhaps they’re a bit thinner in the face, but otherwise...they look virtually the same.
Villain takes back their ID card and stuffs it into their wallet. Their expression is solemn; to the Hero this translates as anger. On the contrary, Villain feels sympathetic for Hero and their nerves that are shot to hell. I mean, just look at them: purplish circles under their eyes, mussed up hair, donning a sweatsuit from the hospital with a gross stain down the front that Gods only know what it is...Villain plays mind games often, yes, but the Hero has been through more than they can handle in the last week let alone all of the other traumas they’ve experienced in their life before they met Villain. They feel a pang of guilt in their gut at the thought of what their enemy has endured and the stress Villain’s antics likely put on them. They had no way of knowing what else was going on but even still, they feel somewhat responsible for pushing the envelope.
Villain uncrosses their legs and folds their hands on the table gently. Their expression is much softer, and Hero wonders if they’re just imagining it.
“I’m not going to make you talk about anything you don’t want to. I swear I won’t use anything you say to me outside of this room when our paths cross. I love my mind games, true, but I would never, EVER, take a client’s trust and jeopardize it.” Hero sits back in their chair with their brows furrowed, but their shoulders relax a bit. Villain sounds...genuine. The look in their eyes is unmistakably earnest. Hero can’t decide whether they love or hate this version of Villain.
“If you want to sit here in silence every day for an hour and a half, I’ll do it. If you want me to tell you things about myself, I will. With honesty. I know you may not believe me but...I apologize for any awkwardness or leeriness our...prior relationship may incur at these sessions. I completely understand your frustration; it’s absolutely warranted.. I tried to arrange another counselor for you, but my boss was adamant that all of the other counselors had their plates full and that based upon your file...we’d be an excellent fit.” The Villain chuckles softly at this, but rather than in a rude way, it comes off tender. Villain looks into Hero’s wide eyes, the hazel highlights in their brown iris’ glinting under the dull lighting and somehow emphasizing just how young they still are.
“Although you may not believe it possible, I am...here for you. I take my job seriously–both of my jobs–but a conflict of interest is never what I intended. You have the reins, Hero; steer the session as you like and I will abide.” The Hero’s brain feels it’s on the verge of shattering, like they’re in an episode of the Twilight Zone, just barely comprehending Villain’s words or the sincerity perceptible in them through the years of distrust.
Villain sighs. Hero knows that sigh: they’re thinking-deeply.
“I was given your file and have explored it thoroughly–as I do for all of my clients.” Hero’s jaw tightens at the thought of Villain having access to all of their personal info and traumatic experiences..
“If it’s any consolation, I would like to share that I grew up in...similar circumstances. I, too, became a self-sufficient old soul because of it. But I, too, am forever scarred by the doubt of my worth that those experiences have incurred on my psyche.”
Hero tries to stare back blankly, though can’t help but be inundated by the overwhelming emotionality and shock of the situation.
“Uhm–uh...thank you. For telling me.”
“I’m not expecting you to just trust me off the bat, okay? Hero, look at me.”
Hero forces themself to fix their eyes on Villain’s pale blue ones., the slightest hint of a tear shimmering in their eyes to their chagrin.
“You’re not alone anymore. That’s a promise. Are we...okay?”
Hero sniffles and Villain averts their eyes slightly to give them privacy as they quickly swipe away a tear and pretend they’re swatting a gnat.
“Yeah. Yeah–we’re okay.” Villain beams warmly at Hero, their eyes soft and face kind as if they’ve known Hero this intimately for years.
“I tried to choke down some cafeteria food today but I’m afraid what I consumed was definitely not chicken.” A smile just barely tugs at the corners of Hero’s mouth.
“As your shrink, I have the capability to get an afternoon out of this place approved. I’m sure a bit of fresh air could do us both some good. Does In N Out strike your fancy? Of course, if fish sticks downstairs is more your style that’s fine, too.”
Hero isn’t sure if they’re dreaming. But deep down, in the depths of their mind...they hope they’re not.
“I’d really like that.”