This series has got my brain going brrrrr, don’t know if that’s necessarily a good thing or not but we love some old good fashioned betrayed Hero Whump
The next thing hero remembered they were in a cell on a bed, the cuffs still firmly around their wrists. They didn’t remember how they got there, or where they were, something Hero could no doubt credit to Rivet.
So much for not using their power on me.
They were thankful Rivet had left them with their scabbard, still wrapped tight and reassuring around their chest, strapped to their back. They could grab their daggers anytime.
As soon as they took these stupid handcuffs off, they thought mulishly, staring down at their trapped hands balanced in between their bent knees.
There was a door opening somewhere nearby and Hero raised their head to look at the cell bars, waiting for whoever it was to come gloat.
Somewhere, in the dark side of their mind, a sad, quiet voice wanted nothing more than to see Rivet’s stupid face on the other side of the door.
Instead, it was Villain who appeared. Hero struggled to keep their face neutral. They didn’t want to show Villain what impact they had had on them. Villain and their stupid fucking shadows. So Hero fixed Villain with a bored stare, resting their head back against the cold wall.
“Miss me?” Hero asked, wanting to celebrate that their voice didn’t betray them. Unlike Rivet.
Villain just stared, cocking a brow at Hero. Then the shadows slipped from their palms and under their clothes, slowly, dreadfully slowly, dripping, slithering along the ground and through the bars of the cell. Hero’s heart hammered against their chest, but they forced themselves not to move. Not to react. That’s what Villain wanted, for them to scream and cry.
Fine. Maybe they would, but Villain would damn fucking sure have to work for them.
“If you want to give me a hug, Villain you can come in here and do it yourself.”
“Cute,” said Villain, cocking their head to the side, a smile slipping onto their face. “But I think I’ll leave that for Rivet.”
Hero’s heart panged at that, and they hated themselves for it. They shouldn’t be sad. They should be angry. Pissed off, but their stupid little heart ached at the mention of Rivet and they couldn’t fight the feeling.
“What was it like?” Villain asked, leaning their hands through the bars and clasping them together. Their eyes shining with malice, “realising your best friend and greatest ally was all lies. Did it hurt? I bet it hurt.”
“Ehh. You win some, you lose some,” Hero shrugged, subtly retracting their feet to their chest to evade the shadowy claws that were crawling up the bed.
“Ah. You seem more confident than before. Have time to process it all? Compartmentalise? Is that what they taught you during Hero training? Maybe I’ll ask Rivet…”
Hero smiled, the result humourless and wan. “You do that.”
The cold was the first sign that the shadows were on them. A hand wrapped around Hero’s ankle, slowly pulling their leg down. “What about you?” Hero asked, wanting to take their focus off the shadows pulling at them.
Villain’s eyebrows raised in question. “What about me?”
“You must have missed him,” hero continued, nonchalant. “I mean, when Rivet was pretending to be my friend. The late nights, the early mornings. The stakeouts… we got close. Maybe they were lying to me about being a Villain and a traitor, but still… all that time they spent with me they weren’t with you. How does that feel?”
Villain didn’t answer. Instead they drew their arm back sharply and the shadows yanked Hero down the bed, struggling against air and nothing and without their powers Hero could do nothing as they kept dragging Hero towards the bars where Villain stood.
“You’re not worth the effort,” Villain spat as they reached up and pressed their actual cold hand to Hero’s throat, keeping their chin up and forcing them to look into Villain’s cool eyes, burning with an old kind of hatred.
“Mmm,” Hero said, clearing their throat with a slight cough that highlighted Villain’s hands on their throat. “Maybe you should ask Rive—“
Villain cut Hero off by squeezing their throat against their hand. Hero pulled back, but it was as if a wall was behind them squishing them towards the bars, to Villain’s hand and their unyielding grip. Hero couldn’t even use their hands that were squished between their rib cage and the iron bars of the cell.
Eventually Villain let go and Hero pushed back a little, gasping in lungfuls of air. “I don’t even know what he see in you,” Villain hissed and Hero looked up through their lashes, still wheezing for oxygen and said: “my devil may care charm, perhaps.”
A hand gripped the back of Hero’s head and slammed their nose into the bars in front of them suddenly. A loud resounding crunched echoed through Hero’s head, along with their cry of pain and then the warm blood started flowing down their nose and lips, dripping passed their chin and onto their shirt.
“Motherfucker,” Hero gasped out. Then their head was shoved down again and Hero cried out in pain, the impact hitting their bridge square and causing the blood to gush, some going down the back of their throat and Hero coughed, the taste of iron staining their mouth. Enraged Hero spit some of the blood into Villain’s stupid, smirking face.
Villain smiled and it seemed to suck all confidence from Hero’s very soul. A smile so dark it strikes fear straight to Hero’s heart.
“Ah. I see now what he likes about you. You look perfect when you’re bleeding and scared.”
Hero couldn’t help themselves as the words spilled from their mouth: “you creep. At least buy me dinner first.”
Then Hero was forced onto their knees by the shadows holding them, Villain’s hand on their chin, tilting their head side to side, examining it. Hero tried to push back, to stand up, to do anything. But the shadows kept them exactly how Villain wanted them.
“There. Beautiful,” Villain said. Their blood was dripping onto Villain’s hands but they didn’t seem to care. Hero sucked in a breath through gritted teeth and choked on some of the blood, sputtering slightly. Villain’s eyes seared into Hero’s soul, watching them struggle and revelling in it. They pressed their hand that was soaked in Hero’s blood to Hero’s cheek, wiping the remnants on Hero before straightening up properly.
Villain released them and Hero fell to all fours, coughing out the blood onto the concrete floor. Painting the grey a deep red. When Hero looked up again Villain was gone, but the fear they had trapped in Hero’s chest was still very much there.
Hero retreated to the back wall of the cell, sitting on the cot again and resting their head back against the wall, waiting for the blood to stop falling and cursing themselves.
What kind of idiot were they? To be stuck here. They should have told Sidekick when they got the tip about Villain. They were just going to rough Villain up a bit, get some information on Other Villain’s whereabouts so they could beat them to a pulp for even touching a hair on Sidekick’s innocent head.
Even if they managed to catch Villain and mete out justice on Other Villain, they would have beaten the ever living shit out of the wrong person, and that was something Hero didn’t want to think about in that moment.
Their Rivet was the one who put Sidekick in the medbay for days.
Sidekick, who was still in the medbay, where Hero should be, but no. Instead they were here, powerless and bleeding and it was all their fault.
They don’t know how long they sat and stewed on that thought. Long enough that their nose stopped bleeding and was now just dry and sticky on their face.
“What happened to your face?” Hero angled their head down from where they stared at the ceiling to see Rivet standing on the other side of the cell.
“Fuck off, Riv. I’m not in the mood.”
A jangle of keys and the cell door was open, footsteps approaching Hero in their cot in the corner. Hero’s heart ached with every beat as Rivet came into their line of sight, concern drawing their features together.
How many times had they had that same concern? Told Hero it was going to be okay. Cleaned their wounds, laughed about the bruises the next day?
How much of it was a lie— hero wanted to ask. The question burned a hole in the tip of their tongue, but they didn’t ask it. They just stared up at the ceiling as best they could.
“What? You piss someone off already?”
Hero sighed. Rivet sat on the edge of the bed, moving closer hands going to inspect the damage. Hero slapped their hands away, tears burning in the back of their eyes.
“Don’t fucking touch me, Rivet,” Hero bit out. “You don’t get to betray me and then pretend to be my friend and concerned about me.”
Rivet stared, eyes sad as they said: “okay. Guess I deserve that.”
“You deserve so much more,” Hero said, voice barely above a whisper. “How many of our friends died because of you? Hmm?”
“Hero, not all of it,” Rivet began then stopped, huffed out a breath of air through their nose, hand running through their hair. “Not all of it was a lie. I am your friend. I do care about you.”
“Oh really? Then you’d never use your power on me, right?” Hero demanded, echoing back Rivet’s own words against him. Rivet had the audacity to even look guilty at that, and Hero leaned forwards, hands on Rivet’s as they said: “I forgive you, okay. I forgive you if you let me go. Rivet, please.”
Rivet’s eyebrows knit together, clearly conflicted and Hero sat back against the wall again. “Yeah. We’re friends,” hero deadpanned.
“You have blood all over your face, Hero. You really want to just leave it?”
“Why the hell not?” Hero said, trying to force their tone into some form of neutrality.
Rivet sighed and stood up from the cot. “Supervillain wants an audience with you. I was sent to retrieve you.”
Hero rolled their eyes, scoffing, but got to their feet no less. “Of course,” they said, pushing past Rivet to the door. “God help you actually wanted to see how I was doing.”
