“You… You’re Sharp-Shooter… Y-you were… M-my favorite super hero…” Overkill had guessed correctly. Arthur wasn’t much to look at, but if Overkill was honest with himself, he was probably the smartest man he’d ever met, and the best strategist he’d ever heard of. He should’ve known it wouldn’t be long before he’d be found out.
Arthur was visibly shaking, even more so than usual. He was something like a human chihuahua in that regard.
“I was Sharp-Shooter.” Overkill corrected. “I was also just an idiot kid.” He was more embarrassed of his past identity than being so easy to read. “Just like you.” He added, wanting to shift the attention away from himself, and to the matter at hand. Arthur blinked, trying to puzzle Overkill’s words together.
“… Like me?-“
“Yes.” He leaned in, his voice more stern than before. “You run around in that flashy, stolen, tech suit with a loud, bright blue, tank of an idiot on live TV. I know your type, you like the hype, the attention. But it’s the worst possible reason to get into this business.”
Arthur understood now exactly what he’d meant. He was absolutely right about all the attention he and Tick had been drawing to themselves, but wrong about Arthur’s motives for becoming the blue super’s sidekick.
“… Just like the Flag Five…” Arthur lowered his eyes, realizing Overkill was looking out for him based on his own, dark experiences. The Flag Five had their own space ship, a line of toys, flashy super suits and catchphrases. They’d made scheduled, public appearances all the time, and were often featured live on the news. They were their own brand. And they were easily weeded out, rounded up, and killed off in one fell swoop.
Overkill was there.
Arthur was there.
Now they both knew their shared past, and although Overkill would never say it, they both knew they shared a stronger bond because of it. Everything that made Overkill who he was, was contained in that moment in time. Everything that made Arthur who he was, was also contained within that moment.
Overkill turned away at the name of his former team. He didn’t want to be taken back to that painful moment. He felt a familiar, painful sensation in his chest just hearing those words again.
“I don’t really… mean to draw so much attention. I’m just new at this…” Arthur tried to defend himself a little. Overkill let out a scoff. “The reason I’m doing this… is the same as you, and you know it. You’ve heard my side of the same story. I was there. Just fifteen feet from you-“
“Yeah? And?” He cut off the smaller man. “None of that makes you a super hero. You’re going to get yourself killed if you try to face the Terror again. You should stay behind on Dangerboat and give us tips over the headset.” Overkill started to collect the pieces of his solid black helmet in a hurry. He wanted to be anywhere else. Arthur put a hand on his helmet, stopping him cold. He met the other man’s eyes, they were intense, like the first time he’d snapped at Overkill about what to do with Ramses when they captured him.
“It’s my revenge too!” Arthur insisted, for once not cowering or breaking eye contact. Overkill straightened himself to look down at him from a more intimidating posture.
“Your suit is bullet proof, and it flies, but I don’t see any weapons on it. What do you think you can do? Besides get abducted by Terror’s goons again and make yourself one more prob-“
“I’m not an idiot! I know how vulnerable I am, but you forget I have the Tick with me this time and… you.” Arthur hadn’t moved his hand off Overkill’s helmet or backed down when the larger man towered over him. Everything about Overkill had been intimidating to Arthur up until now. He wore all black, was armed to the teeth, wore a metallic, skull shaped helmet, and smelled like death. He never shied away from killing his enemies, in fact he seemed to relish it. But the more the scrawny, grey clad, non-super hero hung around, the more interested he seemed to be in Overkill. He almost looked excited to work together with him to bring down the Terror, and now that the offer was being pulled away, he wasn’t afraid to show his anger at the powerful anti-hero. No, not now that he knew this was his former, favorite super hero. Not now that he knew that deep down they were the same.
“Please. You know I need this just as much as you. Don’t tell me I don’t understand. Don’t tell me I can’t. Because you already know.” Arthur insisted. Overkill studied his face, not sure what to say. “We’re the same. He took everything from us that day. Our families. Our heroes. Our faith in superheroes and justice… Damnit, our faith in everything!” Overkill was visibly taken aback. Arthur’s eyes began to tear up as he held his gaze unblinkingly and the hole in Overkill’s chest was undeniably growing with each second he had to look at them.
He was absolutely right, and that terrified him. He’d never identified with anyone so much. Especially not someone so different from him on the surface. Arthur was holding up a mirror to him now and demanding he recognize himself. Overkill tugged his helmet away and turned to break his gaze.
“Fine.” He put the helmet on. “What the fuck should I care if you wanna get yourself killed. But you better have a damn good plan. I’m not dying for you.” With that, Arthur watched quietly as he left the boat for his evening patrol.
“… Well that was awfully dramatic.” Dangerboat stated flatly, breaking the long silence. “Fo-Ham?” He offered. Arthur wordlessly shook his head no.
