"Does the little Hero need a hug?" "No, fuck off"
Quickly, the hero’s head jerked back to the body on the ground.
Their hands were still shaking, their breath still something they had to take control over again. Frantically, their brain searched for a protocol they could follow, some kind of procedure or advice, something, anything that could save the situation.
“Ouch.” The villain leaned over their shoulder like a curious child. They seemed to study the body until they spat out a diagnosis. “Ohhh, definitely dead, yeah.”
I am going to jail, the hero thought. Panic gnawed on them relentlessly. I am going to jail.
The villain approached the body until they were close enough to kick it with their foot. Not really impressed, they cocked their head.
“Shame. I thought they had some potential.” They looked back at the hero and something in their face softened just a bit. “Your first body, I presume? Don’t worry, it gets easier.”
“Gets easier?” the hero croaked. They could feel tears run down their cheeks, their nose clogging up. It hurt, everything hurt.
“The offer still stands, I can give you a hug.”
“I don’t want a hug,” the hero said, their voice trembling. With a bloody hand, they went through their hair a few times. This couldn’t be happening. The hero wasn’t a killer. God, they wouldn’t even hurt a fly.
“You know that person-” the villain kicked them again “-was a criminal, right?”
The hero couldn’t see, they couldn’t think.
“Oh God,” they whispered. “Oh God.”
“They weren’t going to show you any mercy,” the villain said. “You defended yourself.”
“No no no no. This isn’t right, I didn’t…I couldn’t have— I wasn’t trying to kill them.”
For a moment, the villain didn’t say anything. They stood there and stared at the hero who was so ashamed that they had to turn away. The hero couldn’t control the tears, couldn’t control the sobs. It was difficult enough to be out here and fight every night.
It was difficult enough without the villain showing up unwanted and making fun of them every now and then. It was enough to punch people the hero didn’t know because of agendas that didn’t align.
They hadn’t noticed it but this had bitten chunks out of them for a long time.
“Okay, listen.” The villain’s hand found the hero’s shoulder. “Things like this are unavoidable when you do this job.”
“No, it shouldn’t be…it can’t be, fuck, I thought — I really thought I—”
“Deep breaths,” the villain instructed. They stood in front of the hero now. They were calm, collected. No mocking. No jokes. They’d done this before. “Don’t turn around again. Eyes on me, sweetheart.”
The hero nodded, wiping tears and snot away. They didn’t know what had come over them. They hadn’t cried in years. But then again, this was probably way overdue.
“That’s good. Keep breathing.”
“I’m fine, I…what are you doing?” The hero looked them up and down, ready for something but after that outburst, they were tired enough to call it a day. Or better, a night.
“I heard you were around, so I thought I should check out what you’re doing,” the villain said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Why do you care?” the hero asked, trying to put as much disgust into their voice as possible. After all, this was the villain. However, it didn’t really work out for them. Calming down from an almost-panic-attack was just as tiring as living through one.
“You snapped out of it pretty quickly, I’ve never seen that before.”
“I’m fine,” the hero insisted. They wiped the last tears away and took in a deep breath. What had just happened?
Only now, they realised that the villain was still holding onto their shoulders. With one movement, they brushed them off, heading towards the exit of the abandoned building. What was that? They had sent people to hospitals within minutes, they had always been efficient and quick.
They had expected any reaction to an enemy getting killed but this one?
Their head hurt. They wanted to go home. Fall into bed.
Shit, they hadn’t cried in years.
“Hey.” The villain grabbed their arm before they could escape. “That was just the tip of the iceberg, wasn’t it? You have quite a lot bottled up, don’t you?”
The hero dared to look into their eyes and they got so uncomfortable by this confrontation that they wished to walk into the ocean and never return.
Because the villain was right. Maybe. The hero tried to remember but the last years seemed very foggy.
“Christ, what happened to you?” the villain asked but not even the hero could really remember.
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