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thoughtsonhurtandcomfort · 2 days

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Shun the Light - Ch 19 - Belladonna

Masterlist

Author's Notes: This chapter skips around a lot too, but not a ton happens and I didn't want it to become repetitive so I tried to just skip to the juicy parts. Matteo POV!

Content Warnings: werewolf whump, environmental whump, homelessness, painful transformation, poison, illness (fever, nausea, dizziness, stomach ache), angst, loneliness, dehydration, vampire whump, beaten, bruises

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Feeling healthy and with money in his pocket, Matteo could get far away from here. He could have a plan this time, get off to a better start.

That's not what happens.

Matteo regrets leaving almost immediately. It's abundantly clear now that that was his emotions getting the better of him yet again. If he had waited a day or two he might have thought twice about it.

Now it's too late. Dante didn't stop him. That had to mean something, right? Of the two of them, Dante has been the more honest. If he was okay with Matteo staying, he would have said something...

...right?

In the same train of thought he will go from believing that Dante wanted him gone to remembering how he looked as Matteo walked out. Not upset, just...hollow.

Matteo could tell Dante was lonely, he never had to say it aloud. It was etched onto his face, it echoed through the empty rooms. Loneliness was a weight on Dante's shoulders and any time Matteo managed to lift it a little he felt warm inside. Those felt like the only times he ever did anything right.

And he left.

With some of the money from Dante he buys a tent, a sleeping bag, better shoes and a coat. He tucks the rest away for food...and for medicine, if it comes to that.

Matteo lingers in the area. He relocates to a stretch of forest on the other side of town, but still only a few miles away from Dante's home. Part of him secretly hopes they'll run into each other, but it's a longshot. Still, he takes a walk almost every night just in case.

Even with new provisions, returning to his old lifestyle is hard, much harder than it should be after only a couple of months. It isn't just the stiffness from sleeping on the ground, the constant fear he'll be discovered, or always being a little too hot or too cold. It's being utterly alone in the world, with no one who cares if he lives to see the next day or not.

Despair sets in quickly and grows with each passing week.

On the night of the full moon he has nowhere to go.

Matteo hides his stuff so at least the wolf doesn't destroy everything he bought. He tries to get to as secluded a spot as he possibly can, going so far as to hide in a cave, though there is nothing stopping the wolf from just leaving.

There he waits.

It's so hot...

The morning is actually quite mild, but Matteo wakes sweltering and parched. He couldn't move if he tried. All he can do is lie on his back and shiver and moan through bouts of dizziness and nausea.

His usual sore limbs and pounding head are drowned out by a sharp ache in his stomach that won't relent. Matteo turns onto his side and curls in on himself, rubbing at his belly to try to soothe it. Only then does he notice there's something wet on his hands.

He finally opens his eyes and looks at his shaking hands, fearing he'll find blood - but the substance is purple and sticky. He takes in his immediate surroundings and spots a bush just feet away with branches torn from it. The ground is scattered with crushed berries.

Matteo groans and presses his face into the cool, dewy grass.

Stupid mutt. Just eats whatever it finds.

Before he knows it he's crying weakly. He's sick and sore, feverish and exhausted. He needs water and medicine, a lukewarm bath, a soft bed...

He sobs harder knowing that just a month ago he had all that and more. Now Matteo would do anything for even a moment with Dante's cool hand on his forehead and his calm voice in his ear.

Crying only makes his head pound harder and his thirst worse. If he doesn't get to water soon he doesn't know if he'll make it through the day.

The journey to where he hid his backpack is a long and arduous one. Every time he tries to stand his head spins and he collapses...so he crawls over the rough terrain on hands and knees. The sharp pangs in his stomach continue, often forcing him to double over and focus on breathing until the worst of it passes.

By the time he reaches his things - which are, to his relief, still there - it is late in the afternoon and Matteo is worn down in every way possible. Panting heavily, he leans against a tree and pulls a large water bottle out of his bag. His hands shake as he uncaps it and lifts it to his mouth. He drinks the whole thing, trickling the last few drops of it over his warm face.

Too weak to set up his tent, he uses his backpack as a pillow and passes out.

Two days later Matteo is finally strong enough to stand and walk in short bursts.

Now he has to make a choice: go back to Dante, or actually leave this time.

He can't take another month waiting to be...to be rescued, or whatever it was he thought was going to happen. It's only by sheer luck that he hasn't been discovered yet, and that won't last forever.

But he has nowhere to go that is any safer. Out of hope and with nothing to lose, Matteo decides.

Maybe if I beg. Maybe if I offer him my blood, as much as he wants. I can sleep in the basement and live off of scraps like a fucking animal. I don't care anymore.

Even at his lowest Matteo doesn't believe Dante would make him do that. The worst he can do is turn him away, in which case Matteo is right back where he started. But if there wasn't some small part of him that believed he might be welcome, he wouldn't even try. He has to try.

Late that night he is still walking, and still barely halfway there.

Matteo overestimated what his recovering body was ready for. He has to take frequent breaks and quickly goes through his remaining water. His appetite hasn't returned and his fever hasn't broken. At this rate he'll have to rest and restock sooner rather than later, which means another night alone in the forest.

He follows the nearest main road and finds a gas station with a 24/7 convenience store. Despite his haggard appearance the cashier barely acknowledges him. Matteo buys several more waters and some medicine without incident.

A few buildings away the only other open business is a bar. Some cars and motorcycles are parked out front and loud music thrums from its walls. Matteo keeps his head down and keeps his gaze straight ahead, not wanting any trouble.

As he passes, Matteo's attention is drawn to something happening in the darkness to one side of the building where the streetlight doesn't quite reach. His senses are still sharp, and maybe that's how he makes out the sound of muffled grunts over the bar's music.

Matteo cautiously moves closer until he can see a group of figures, four of them standing around a fifth that is crumpled on the ground. They're ruthlessly beating someone, and their victim either can't or won't fight back.

Don't get involved, idiot. You're in no shape for a fight.

Steel-toed boots make contact with the fallen man's ribs and he gives an awful wheezing sound that makes Matteo flinch in sympathy and put a hand to his own side.

"HEY!" he shouts. The four men standing freeze in place. Matteo panics a little but feigns confidence as he adds, "break it up or I'm calling the cops!"

At first they seem to ignore him. One lifts the limp body from the ground and slams it against the wall, leaning in to say something that Matteo doesn't catch.

But then he drops him and motions to his three companions. To Matteo's immense relief they walk away, toward the small gravel parking lot, where they get into a car and speed away.

Matteo cautiously approaches the injured man, who hasn't made an effort to get up.

"You need me to call someone for you?" he asks nervously. He doesn't have a phone, but the bar will.

The slumped figure remains silent. He isn't moving, he isn't even...

"Shit, he's not breathing," Matteo realizes. He throws caution out the window and goes to the man's side. "Hey, are you o...kay..."

Matteo nearly stops breathing himself.

Even bruised he knows that face, those pearl-gray eyes.

"Dante?"

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tildeathiwillwrite · 3 days

Text

June of Doom Day 6

"They don't care about you." / Flinch / Broken Promise / Abandoned

Prompts List | Event Masterpost

Hero x Villain Masterpost | <- Previous Part | Next Part (coming soon!)

Fandom: Original Work

Words: 1600

Tag List: @juneofdoom @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion

@scaewolf @doctorsawyer @pinkrangerv

CW: PTSD, breaking and entering, sabotage, self-deprecation, swearing, harsh words, denial, mentioned injury, crying

A/N: Introducing a couple new characters: Antihero, a part-time hero, part-time villain who owed Villain a few favors, and Youngest, the most inexperienced member of Hero's old team. Also the first appearance of Hero's powers! They're a telekinetic.

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“...are you sure the distraction’s gonna work?”

“Antihero knows what they’re about, love. Trust me, we’ll have all the time you need.”

Hero shifted uneasily in their seat, watching the lights of the city streak by outside the car window. “I do, but… what about Techie? Won’t they alert Shapeshifter, Sound Gun and Leader once they find out we’re inside?”

Villain sighed, eyes fixed on the road. “I already told you, I’ll handle it.” Hero opened their mouth, but Villain raised a finger from the wheel, silencing them. “And don’t worry, I won’t kill them. If all goes well, they won’t even suspect what we came for until it’s too late.”

“Okay….”

Villain turned onto a side street, close to Hero’s former team’s headquarters, but not close enough to draw attention. They eased the car to a stop and put it into park before turning to Hero. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? If things don’t go as planned, it could end very badly for both of us.”

Hero gritted their teeth and nodded, thoughts whirling. “Not just us, but Techie and Youngest and maybe Antihero and—!”

Villain gently put a finger on Hero’s lips. “Hush. It’ll all work out.”

“But—!”

“Trust me?”

Hero slowly exhaled, trying to soothe their racing nerves. “Trust you.”

Villain smiled. “Good. Now, let’s break into your old headquarters, shall we?” They removed their hand and swiftly exited the car. Hero stared after them for a long moment, painfully aware of the spot on their lips where Villain’s finger had just been, just barely brushing against their skin. Villain shut the car door, and Hero jumped, quickly following suit, heat spreading across their face.

Their mask would hide the worst of the blush, probably. And the rest was hopefully covered by the darkness—

“…Hero?”

Hero jumped. “S-sorry,” they mumbled, starting down the sidewalk. “Just… memories.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Hero couldn’t afford to lose focus. Not now. And especially not while inside their old headquarters, where every second that ticked by was one second closer to getting caught.

Caught.

And imprisoned.

And tortured….

“Hero?”

They snapped out of their thoughts as Villain gently touched their shoulder. “I…” Hero blinked and realized they’d almost walked past the side door, their ticket into the building. They smacked their forehead in frustration. “Fuck… sorry, I was just….”

Villain frowned. “If you’re not ready for this, we can turn around and go home. I’ll call off Antihero, and we can try again another day.” They glanced up at Hero’s old headquarters, and the frown deepened. “Your team did a lot of fucked up shit, and they deserve to pay for every damned scrap.

“But…” they looked back to Hero, and their gaze softened. “We don’t have to do this now. Just say the word.”

Hero hesitated. The offer was tempting, it really was. But… they had the suspicion that if they backed out now, they would never muster up the courage to return. And that thought… that thought terrified them more than getting caught.

They shook their head. “No. We’re doing this.”

“Alright.” Villain nodded slowly and gestured to the door. “Lead the way. This is your mission, after all.”

Hero took a deep breath, steeling their nerves against the memories that threatened to flood their brain and overwhelm them again. I’m coming, Youngest. They pressed their hand to the doorknob and reached out with their powers, grasping the inner mechanisms with insubstantial fingers.

The lock clicked. Hero allowed themself a small smile of victory. It had been a while since they’d used their telekinesis for something as complex as the lock. This was promising. They pushed open the door and slipped inside, Villain on their heels.

The side door opened into a hallway that ran along the entire length of the first floor of the headquarters, connecting to the lobby, a few unimportant storage rooms, and the service staircase. Hero led the way down the hallway, their powers seeking out and disabling the security cameras in the stairwell long before they reached the door.

“Alright,” Villain murmured as they ascended the stairs, “just point me in the direction of the surveillance room and I’ll be off.”

Hero nodded, passing the second and third-floor doors before stopping at the fourth floor. “Second door, end of that hallway.”

“Got it,” Villain moved past them, but Hero caught their arm.

“Just… don’t hurt them too badly. Please.”

Villain’s expression was unreadable beneath the mask, but they nodded. “Of course, love.”

With those words, they vanished through the door. Hero listened to their quiet footsteps for a couple heartbeats before they shook themself and continued up the stairs. Youngest would likely be in their room. Hero remembered from their training days when Leader would lock them in their room to prevent them from following on patrol before they were deemed ready.

The memory reared its head, threatening to drown them, but Hero shook their head and pressed on. Youngest. They were here for Youngest.

The lock was no more difficult to open than the side door. Youngest jumped up as the door opened, words already spilling out. “Is everything okay? Do you need me to…” Their eyes widened as their brain caught up with what they were seeing. “Hero?!”

Hero winced at the shock and disbelief in their voice. “Hey, Youngest.”

“I… you died! You’re supposed to be at the bottom of the ocean somewhere…” Youngest staggered, grabbing onto their desk for support. Frost spread across the wooden surface from their fingers, but they didn’t notice.

“Ah… is that what Leader told you?”

Youngest hesitated before nodding. “They said… they said you were taking a break, to go visit some family… but your plane crashed into the ocean…” They perked up and started moving towards the door. “We have to let everyone know you’re okay! Have you told Techie yet—?”

Hero didn’t move from the doorway, even as Youngest paused expectantly in front of them. “Listen to me, Youngest. I never went on a break, never went on a plane.”

Youngest blinked in confusion. “...huh?”

“I…” Hero’s voice shook as they sought the right words, “I was getting sloppy. Pulled one too many all-nighters. Let a couple big villains get away from me. Leader wasn’t happy about any of that. And… and when I asked to take a break, I think that’s when they snapped. There’s… there’s a reason why the lower levels are off-limits.”

Youngest stared at them, eyes growing wider by the second as Hero’s words sank in. They stepped back. “No,” they protested, “no, you’re lying!”

“I wish I was lying,” Hero murmured. “They don’t care about you. They only care about what you can do for them, and damned if you act like a person who has needs!”

Youngest shook their head, hands raised defensively. “How could you say something like that?! Leader took us in, trained us… they’re like a parent to me! They would never do that!”

“I’m sorry, Youngest, but it’s true. They’ll abandon you if they thought it was ‘for the good of the city’.” Hero’s voice turned mocking, remembering Teleporter’s words as they’d exacted the punishment ordered by Leader. “That’s why I came back. I didn’t want to leave you behind when you, too, caught their wrath.”

Youngest’s expression darkened. “Get out.”

Hero blinked. “What?”

“Get. The fuck. Out. Or I will make you leave. You’re not Hero. You’re something else, wearing their face, wearing their mask.”

Hero’s stomach churned, the earlier fear and panic returning at full force. “Youngest, I….”

“Don’t ‘Youngest’ me!” Youngest screamed, the temperature rapidly dropping. “Leave! Leave, or I might change my mind and trap you here so you can repeat your lies to Leader’s face! How does that sound?!”

Hero stepped back in shock. They wouldn’t… would they? “I’m sorry, Youngest,” they managed to say, voice shaking. “Just… I’m sorry.”

They thrust out with their hand, slamming the door shut with such hurried force that it rattled in the doorframe. The lock clicked, and Hero spun and sprinted back down the hallway, tears threatening to spill down their cheeks.

They were too late.

Down the stairs.

They’d waited too long.

The fourth-floor hallway.

They failed.

The surveillance room. Hero barely glanced around the room, registering Techie lying unconscious on the floor before they dashed across the room to where Villain bent over the console. Villain turned in surprise, eyes widening as they noted the look on Hero’s face and the distinct lack of Youngest.

Hero mashed themself against Villain’s chest, the tears finally arriving in full force. “I… they… they thought I was… they didn’t want… threatened to…to….”

Villain slowly wrapped their arms around Hero, their fingers running through Hero’s hair. “Oh… I’m so sorry. You tried your best.”

“I… I really thought….”

“I know, I know.” Villain removed one of their hands, tapping on the keyboard. “If it’s any consolation, I got the other thing we needed.”

Hero continued to sob, Youngest’s words playing over and over in their mind.

“Hero… Hero!” Villain gently pushed them away and planted their hands on their shoulders. “We gotta get our asses out of here before the team gets back, okay? Plenty of time to sort through your emotions when we’re home free.”

Hero slowly nodded, removing their mask to wipe away the tears. “Okay…” they mumbled, voice still shaking.

Villain nodded, grabbing Hero’s hand. “Let’s go, love.”

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