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world-of-fire-and-flight · 2 years

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Love Letters: Finale?

A/N: I’ve loved writing this series and am already planning a spinoff or something because there’re still some things I’d like to explore with these characters. Idk when this is happening, because I have a few prompts lined up, but it’s happening 😊 Also just a head’s up that this is about 3.8k words. Happy reading! Huge thank you to @selene-stories for the amazing prompt that kicked this series off and all of your amazing commentary throughout the series💜

Warnings: Implied torture/past torture, blood reference/blood mention, confusion, healing, injuries, past restraints/reference to having been restrained, implied medical scenario, scars, deserved mental breakdown, angst, some fluff

(This is not a prompt)

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Hero inhaled deeply. Their lungs nearly burst from the full breath. Lashes fluttering under their eyes, Hero was almost reluctant to open them, but knew the action was inevitable. They didn’t want to deny themselves the illusion of warmth and comfort of the bed that surely didn’t exist beneath them in place of the cold, damp basement floor and the rough ropes binding their wrists and ankles. Instead, they slipped further into that dream and burrowed deeper into the soft darkness of their subconscious. In the fraying moment between vague wakefulness and unconsciousness, Hero swore their cheek nestled into a cushy pillow that simply couldn’t exist. Somehow, it felt more like a reality to them than the absent chill of the basement that should’ve plagued them.

A sigh escaped Hero’s slightly parted lips. Slowly blinking their eyes open, Hero’s hands curled limply against—Hero’s brows furrowed. Mind swimming, they turned their head to the side and took in the dim room and the nightstand that met their gaze. Like a flood, their memories rushed to the forefront of their mind.

Other Supervillain had saved them. Other Supervil—Politician had saved them and had apparently killed Supervillain and Superhero…

“Dead, probably.”

What was Superhero’s fate? Were they confirmed alive or dead? Which did Other Supervillain prefer? Which did Hero prefer?

Uncertain and afraid of the answer poking around the edges of their mind, Hero curled up on their side and drew the blankets tighter around themselves, nearly burying themselves in the warm comfort of alleged safety. Other Super—Politician had promised not to hurt them, and waking up in a cloud of blankets and pillows surely indicated the truth in that declaration. Soothed for a time, Hero couldn’t fight the heavy closing of their eyes.

The next time Hero peeled their eyes open, golden sunlight peeked through the miniscule part in the heavy curtains of the bedroom Politician had left them in. They couldn’t note any changes in the room, if Politician or someone had checked in on them or if they’d been left to their unconscious state in blissful solitude this whole time. Some part of Hero argued that they could stay here forever, unbothered and unburdened, but the stronger part of Hero knew that they should get up and see just what their circumstances were.

Groaning, Hero forced themselves onto their elbows and fought to sit up against the headboard. Panting heavily, Hero laid a gentle hand on their abdomen. Their eyes widened. Bringing their frail hand to their face, Hero’s eyes narrowed and examined the dry skin of their wrist, and even their nails for any sign of the blood—their blood—that had spilled.

Not even a scratch remained on their skin. By all means, there was no sign of the rope burn or how the rope had peeled and shredded their skin until Hero had believed there was nothing left but bone to scrape at with every shift of their bonds.

Sagging against the headboard with a twist of their lips, Hero studied their limp hands. They wondered, briefly, what had been real and what they’d imagined. Their broken—or were they only bruised?—ribs were real, a fact echoed by the pull of pain in their torso whenever they moved.

Bringing their hands up, Hero went to scrub at their face, but where they thought they’d feel their own skin was only cloth.

Not just any cloth, though, Hero realized with a quick breath. The cloth was strong, nearly solid, the type of cloth used in supersuits. With trembling hands, Hero gently took the cloth from their face and turned the revealed mask over in their hands.

Why had Other Supervillain put their mask on them?

Admittedly, Hero appreciated that the master criminal had put them in something…less blood-soaked and grimy, but why had they given them their mask?

Hesitantly, Hero moved the blankets down the bed and exposed their lower half. The bruises and lacerations they expected to see were gone—if they’d even existed. The most evidence of their predicament lay in healed scars and reddened knees from being forced to kneel for so long. Aside from that, there were no serious injuries. There was only the memory, or the nightmare, of them.

Their lips twisted as they willed their leaden limbs into motion. Their bare toes awkwardly brushed the plush carpet as if they’d forgotten what it was to bear any weight—and Hero hadn’t even stood up from the bed yet. They didn’t know if such a feat was even possible.

Were their injuries truly that bad that they could only be partially healed? Or had more time passed than they’d initially believed upon waking?

Hero’s hands clenched into fists by their sides, the fabric mask crumpling in their fragile grasp. With one last deep breath, Hero hauled themselves to their feet. Their limbs bowed and Hero curled inward, nearly hunched over with drooping shoulders. Too weak to bear the weight of their body, they leaned against the nightstand to steady themselves. Settling a light hand against their stomach, Hero took a hesitant step forward in the hopes that their limbs would remember how to walk.

By the time they’d made it to the bedroom door, a few beads of sweat dotted their brow. Their breaths came in heavy puffs. It took a few embarrassing tries to get a handle on the doorknob and twist it as their eyes dotted with stars. But Hero managed to get the door open and lean against its frame as if they’d collapse.

Squinting out into the hallway, Hero glanced up and down its length in search of a sign—any sign with any meaning. But the hallway was empty except for the light and a long decorative carpet runner that covered its length.

Hero sighed, exasperated by the choice that lay before them. Was anybody here? Was Politician here?

Glancing down at the mask in their free hand, Hero wondered many things. What had they done to Supervillain? To Superhero? How could they be certain that Supervillain was dead but hesitant to declare the same fate of Superhero?

Hero’s blood ran cold. What had they done with the Ancient Sword?

Pushing away from the door, Hero hobbled down the hallway. Stiff and numb all the same, they kept a hand on the wall to keep them upright. More like, the wall held them up as they could not. Slowly progressing down the hallway, Hero sniffed. And sniffed again. Their mouth began to water, but no matter how much their mind urged them on, their body couldn’t go any faster than this snail’s pace.

The warm spice in the air beckoned them. Nearly dragging their exhausted body down the rest of the hallway, Hero stumbled out into a bright kitchen filled with that savory scent and an oppressive heat that billowed from a steamy pot on the stove.

“Hero?” Politician startled upon seeing them in the doorway. Immediately, the unmasked master criminal was at their side and guiding them into a hard kitchen chair. “What are you doing up? You should be resting!” Taking a step back, Politician ran a haphazard hand through their hair. “Clerk’s going to kill me, and so will Healer if they see you up.”

“W-w-wh—” Hero tried to speak but found their throat had gone dry. Politician turned away and pulled a glass down from a cabinet before filling it. Helping them hold it to their lips, Hero took a small sip and then another. They tried not to gulp it, afraid of drinking the refreshing liquid too quickly. It was all too tempting to do so, as it did wonders for their soul. Sagging against the straight-backed chair, Hero glanced up at Other Supervillain in all their civilian glory. “Why was I wearing your mask?”

Politician blinked at them. Any trace of the cold master criminal was blended into the public figure before them, exposing what could only be the person at Politician’s core—a vulnerable truth Hero doubted many people got to meet. “Yours was…it wasn’t in good shape.”

“But why?” Hero pressed quietly.

“I didn’t think you’d want anyone to know who you were,” Politician said honestly. “Though we didn’t run into anyone until we got here. Healer’s just resting, like you should be, but then they can—”

“It’s fine,” Hero interrupted, still hung up on the fact that Other Supervillain had given them their mask.

“I didn’t mean to overstep with the mask…I just didn’t think you’d want your identity exposed,” Politician hurriedly explained, as if they couldn’t sense exactly what Hero was thinking. Or maybe they weren’t using their telekinesis—out of respect? Did Politician do that? Did they restrain themselves and their powers out of respect for others’ privacy?

Hero placed a hand on Politician’s arm, fearing the headache they might conjure if they shook their head. “No, I mean about Healer. I’m fine, I’ll heal.” They shrugged. “It’ll only take longer.”

Politician narrowed their eyes, studying them. “It’s not a problem for them if that’s what you’re concerned about. It’s their job, and something they like doing. You just…you needed a lot of healing.”

“I know,” Hero whispered, closing their eyes. They swallowed the lump in their throat, but couldn’t find the courage to voice their fears.

Quiet footsteps paced away from them. Metal scraped against the glass stovetop and the bubbling slowed. Those same, patient footsteps approached them once more. Hero reluctantly opened their eyes to find Politician crouching down in front of them with concerned eyes. Hesitantly, Politician, laid a hand on theirs and gently pried their mask from Hero’s shaky fingers, setting it aside.

“Are you afraid?” They asked quietly, still resting their hand atop Hero’s in their lap but not quite holding their trembling hand.

Hero nodded, tears brimming in their eyes. They whispered, “Not of you.”

Politician smiled softly. “That’s something new…” They trailed off hesitantly before speaking again. “I’m sorry about the other day when I cornered you as Other Supervillain.”

“It’s okay,” Hero murmured, their voice weakening with each syllable. Their tears spilled over. “I know you n-ne—” They squeezed their eyes shut and took a deep, nearly painful breath thanks to how choked up their throat was. “You just needed to know what I knew.”

Gentle fingers brushed their tears away. Hero’s lip wobbled, tilting into a twisted frown. Before they could stop themselves, they half launched themselves, half fell into Politician, burying their head in the crook of their neck and wrapping their arms around them. Politician rocked back on their heels before they caught themselves and the sobbing purveyor of justice in their loose embrace.

Sitting up on their knees, Politician maneuvered them gently into a more comfortable position, loosely wrapping an arm around Hero’s waist and weaving careful fingers in their hair, cupping the back of their head.

“You’re safe here,” Politician assured them, even if they didn’t need to. “For as long as you need or want to stay, you’ll be safe here. Clerk is covering for you with the press as Other Superhero, and the Agency is scrambling to repair the fallout of Superhero’s betrayal. There’s nothing to worry about. Between myself and Clerk, you’ll be taken of. You’re safe.”

Hero took a shuddering breath, not sure how to feel about that or explain just what it was that plagued their mind. Eventually, the words came to them, but their voice wouldn’t work.

“I’m afraid if Healer does their job, none of it will be real to me.” Hero admitted shyly, curling further into Politician’s hold. “That it was all in my head.”

“So…seeing yourself heal will help you?” Politician asked slowly. “You’d rather not speed the physical process up, in case it was all a mind game?”

Hero nodded. With a shuddering breath, they mumbled against Politician’s skin, “I know I have to live with this, but I need to see it so that when…when the memories overwhelm me, I’ll know.”

“Memories are a difficult thing,” Politician said, tensing. Their voice was tight, as if steeling against a vulnerability they didn’t want Hero to witness. Hesitantly, Hero picked their head up to look at them. Even their features had turned guarded despite the gentle hand that slowly raised to wipe the wetness from their cheeks as Politician went on. “It’s not unheard of, though I don’t know how safe it would be to erase the subconscious too…I’m not offering, though.”

“And I’m not asking.” Hero fully peeled themselves away to look them in the eyes.

The pair stared at each other in silence. The tension in Politician’s features vanished at Hero’s words. Whatever Politician had set aside on the stovetop and abandoned had long since ceased its bubbling. Hero’s hands rested perfectly on Politician’s shoulders just as much as Politician’s hand fit perfectly against their cheek, cupping their face with a phantom’s touch like they were afraid Hero would shatter.

“What happened to Superhero?” Hero hated the murmured words that spilled from their lips and destroyed the peace between them.

“The Agency got to them in time. They’re…proportionately banged up, but they’ll live.” Politician didn’t so much as blink, but it wasn’t a ruthless façade masking their face, not this time.

No, this time their expression was open and almost soft, the picture of gentleness and care.

“They’re in custody, where they belong.”

Hero absorbed the words slowly, letting them sink into every shadow of their mind.

“Supervillain’s dead.” Politician’s jaw twitched, but their features didn’t harden like Hero expected they would. Instead, their fingers trailed along Hero’s jaw before they took their hand away and let it drop to their side. “I made sure of it.”

Hero swallowed. Their mind spun from too much information or maybe from the ordeal. It could’ve been the hunger clenching in their gut too, but it also could’ve been the way their heart swelled. Politician was magnetic, and so was their alter ego. Hero had always known it, had always been skeptical of Other Supervillain’s reverence and Politician’s impressive public relations. But being this close, this vulnerable? Hero didn’t know what to make of it, even if a tiny part of them longed for some semblance of what these feelings stirring in their gut could be.

“Does it bother you? That I’m a supervillain?” Politician asked. For the first time that Hero had ever noticed, the master criminal and beloved public figure seemed worried. Never before had the calm, collected mayor or the calculating, self-assured criminal ever showed an ounce of hesitancy in the way that they were now.

“Is there a reason why it should?” Hero’s heart fluttered in their chest. What were they really asking them?

Politician pulled away fully, sitting back on their heels. Hero was forced to lean back against the chair if they didn’t want to fall forward, though they sorely missed the safety of their companion’s careful embrace.

“If we were to be friends, not just allies as a hero and supervillain, but friends in our civilian lives…would it bother you?” They explained.

Hero studied them closely, looking for lies or half-truths where they didn’t exist. Their mind wandered to the sword. “I don’t think the fact would bother me…though I have to ask about the sword.”

Politician shook their head, chuckling a little. Standing, they said, “I figured you would ask.”

They ducked into another adjacent room and came back with the sword, its pommel still poking out between the cloth wrapping. Just as they came to stand before Hero again, the oven timer blared in the otherwise quiet of Politician’s kitchen.

They looked between the oven and Hero and back again. Laying the sword beside Hero on the table, Politician went to the counter and grabbed a pair of oven mitts. “It’s yours to deal with. You’re the only person anyone will trust to get rid of it. I’ve already given the Prominent Museum a decoy, as arranged.”

Hero’s entire being ground to a halt. They echoed, “‘As arranged?’”

Pulling a whole baked chicken from the oven, Politician flashed them a smirk. “I had plans of my own for the sword. Only Superhero and Supervillain beat me to it.

“I approached the Prominent Museum as Other Supervillain,” they explained, covering the chicken with foil and setting the whole pan aside on the stove as they reached for the pot they’d previously had boiling. Draining what was revealed to be potatoes, the master criminal continued divulging their plans to Hero.

“They’d been rumors that leadership at the Museum had wanted to destroy the sword because of multiple attempts throughout history to steal the sword, especially the more recent attempts. They were very eager to accept my offer to dispose of it for them, though as Politician, I needed to create a cover for why the exhibit was coming to City—hence the Business Committee meeting and city council agenda to take an interest in increasing tourism.

“It was actually very good for business, up until Supervillain stole the collection. But even reporters and investigators need to eat, so the Business Committee isn’t too upset by the bad press the city’s gotten recently.”

“So you…” Hero started, forcing their cloudy mind to work and process the scheme. “You arranged to help the Prominent Museum steal their own artifacts in order to destroy the sword, but to do that, you needed the collection to come here, to the City Museum? Why not just go to the Prominent Museum?”

“Because I was afraid it would raise too many eyebrows. It’s no secret Other Supervillain operates from City, and if I were to travel to Prominence as Politician and Other Supervillain just miraculously pulls off the greatest museum heist at the same time as my absence, someone might connect the dots,” they grinned pointedly at Hero.

Hero’s cheeks heated. They couldn’t say for certain whether they would’ve been tasked with the case if it were an international investigation because of Other Supervillain’s involvement, but they would’ve been curious and tempted to conduct some detective work of their own anyway. It’s why they were such a good hero. They were curious and interested by nature. They couldn’t let things sit, not if they were interested.

“Am I that predictable?”

“I’ve known you as Hero for years,” Politician said over their mixer, whipping the potatoes and adding some milk. “You’re dependable to a fault, and always present. Tell me, do you volunteer for security details or do you not get enough time off? Or is it good over time?”

Hero swallowed before they answered. “I just…like my job.”

Politician raised an eyebrow at them, moving on to slice the chicken. “The job? Nothing else?”

“There isn’t anything else,” Hero muttered. They eyed the sword beside them to avoid Politician’s stare. But it didn’t stop them from watching their savior out of the corner of their eye.

Politician set a bowl of mashed potatoes on the table and then the chicken and a basket of bread, breaking Hero out of their woes. Plates and utensils came next, and Hero repositioned themselves to sit comfortably at the table.

“You nearly took a bullet for me once.” Politician said. Hero glanced up at them, squirming in their seat anxiously. “I never thanked you for that. Not personally anyway, only in press conferences.”

“Is that why you saved me? To repay the favor?” Hero asked.

“No.” Politician shook their head firmly. “I saved you because it was the right thing to do. Do you know how many people were looking for you?”

Hero eyed them wearily, opting to fill their plate while they waited for Politician to go on. They grabbed a roll and tore a piece off to nibble on.

“Nearly every hero the agency has was out there looking for you. Half the city’s vigilantes too,” Politician said, beginning to fill their own plate. “But I knew none of them would know about Superhero’s betrayal or would think to look into Supervillain when you’d probably declared me your prime suspect in the artifacts case to try and shield yourself from Supervillain.

“I knew there wasn’t enough time for them to catch up to you and the clues that had led you to, rightfully, believe Supervillain was guilty,” Politician said. They took a breath and slowly drew their eyes up to look at Hero across the table. “You’re always here, for the city. You deserve someone who’s there for you too, and I knew I was the only one who could be in this instance.”

Hero studied them intently. “So it was out of duty then that you saved me?”

“Duty,” Politician smirked, “and admiration. I truly want what’s best for this city and…”

Hero arched their brow, waiting for Politician to say something more, but the master criminal only turned their attention back to their plate. Hero thought back to all of their interactions with them. There weren’t many as Hero and Other Supervillain, but in their time serving on Politician’s protection detail…Hero thought they’d imagined it. The lingering looks or the small smile when Politician looked over the heroes assigned to them and Hero thought their eyes had landed on them, but now…Hero was fully convinced that the secretive feeling was mutual.

But still, their mind held reservations, especially in the wake of Superhero’s betrayal and all they didn’t know about their friend’s personal life—or their professional life.

How is it that they came to love a master criminal? Had it happened in a similar way to this? Or had they been captured and manipulated into believing they loved Supervillain?

Hero supposed they might never know, and if they never had to see Superhero again, then they were perfectly fine with that. They could live with Superhero in custody, a fact that did actually bring them more relief than they thought it would, given the circumstances of their last few meetings.

“You don’t want to just be friends, do you?” Hero set their fork and knife aside, sitting back in their seat. Politician froze. Hero fiddled with their hands in their lap. When they finally met Hero’s gaze, Hero wanted nothing more than to shrink in their seat and disappear. Instead, they persevered, bolstered by the hopeful gleam in their companion’s eyes.

“Does it bother you that I’m a hero?” Hero asked in the stretching silence.

Politician chuckled, their eyes dancing. “Is there a reason why it should?”

“Maybe one,” Hero smiled back.

“So I’m not imagining things then?”

“No,” Hero smiled, “you’re not imagining things…but…I need time, now.”

Politician smiled soberly. “I know. Whenever you’re ready, however long you need, I want this to be your choice, not because it’s convenient or a way to mask what happened. I meant what I said. Take your time, Hero. There’s no rush at all. Besides.” Their smile turned wry. “You have a sword to destroy.”

“I do, don’t I?” Hero mused, eyeing the item in question. Somewhere, in the back of their mind, they rued the fact that a hero’s work was never done. What in the world were they going to do with that? How were they going to destroy it or keep it safe?

With any luck, the master criminal and new friend sitting across from them had an idea, one that hopefully wouldn’t destroy either of them in the process. Hero was ready to heal, but more importantly, they were ready to fill the blank pages of their life.

#what could've been #hero x villain #hero x supervillain #heroes and villains #writeblr #hero x supervillain drabble #hero x supervillain snippet #Love Letters series #hero x supervillain flangst #Y'all. This was hard. Like I had so many ideas and they didn't all fit so I think I might also post a info dump later #but I'm excited about the spin offs #i have ideas #they might not all be doable #but they're there #the spin offs are going to be canon but the info dump is going to be things I wanted to do/considered but just didn't work out

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