Of Course #2

Part 1 

It took less than a week, after paperwork was signed and the official press announcements made, for a new villain to try their luck at taking over the city. With the hero’s villain gone, there was a power vacuum to be filled after all. No big bad wolf, and no hero, to snap at the heels of anyone who else who might tip the playing field in one direction or another.

The hero was on their feet in an instant.

The villain didn’t move, though their attention locked quietly on the hero, and that was somehow worse.

The hero’s fingers flexed and they took a few steps towards the door, half testing. They’d told the villain more or less, hadn’t they, that if they thought they were needed then they would shatter the deal between them in a heartbeat. They surrendered to protect the city, not let it fall into ruin anyway!

The villain’s head tilted.

“You’re not going to try and stop me?” the hero demanded.

They’d been led to believe, by the villain’s whole ‘I know you’ spiel that the villain had plans already in mind for this exact scenario. The villain was brilliant; they’d surely guessed that there would be a power struggle, they’d probably even narrowed down who the exact players would be long ahead of time.

The villain raised their eyebrows. “Go and have a look at your city.”

Three hours later, with the horrifying feeling of being known clawing at their chest, and the stench of ash in their clothes, the hero had returned to the villain’s home. To their new home.

The villain was still sprawled on the sofa, entirely unconcerned, reading a book and apparently enjoying retirement.

The hero’s fingers flexed again – to strangle, to attack, to do something.

The villain glanced up, caught the hero’s expression, and set the book aside. They stood and spread their arms as if to say, sure, go ahead, I know what you need.  I alone can give you what you need. I can handle you.

To a fool, it may have looked like an invitation to hug.

The hero launched at them, and when the entire living room was destroyed around them both and the hero was panting breathless, they sat side by side on the sofa again. The villain carded their fingers through the hero’s hair, too gentle for the gesture to really be comfort. The hero closed their eyes, tipping their head back, and the minor bruises and the bloody nose didn’t ache half so much as the raw knowledge of how well considered the villain’s trap had been. How elegant. How perfectly made for them.

Of course, in their gut, the hero would never have agreed to the deal in the first place if they thought the consequences of agreeing would be worse than the consequences of refusal. But at the time it had felt like a rather more intellectual exercise, or at least they had convinced themselves so in the days that followed. A, ‘say yes for now, and at least there’ll be a few weeks of peace’. ‘Say yes for now, and change your mind when needed.’ What did the hero care for a contract compared to what they felt was right? It was hardly a trap at all, right?

The villain had known, though. And they’d known, too, that they didn’t need to spell it out for the hero to reach the same conclusion. All they had to do was let the hero look.

“You are the absolute worst,” the hero said.

The city, their beloved city, had been spooked by the attack. There had even been causalities.

But the new villain was nothing compared to their villain. And, in the absence of the hero, others had risen to the occasion. So however furiously it itched at the hero to sit it out, to stand aside, to not fight…well. The new villain was nothing worth letting their villain loose over.

The hero was welcome it seemed to go and break the locks on their roiling peace, their self-imposed cage, but then the door would be open. The villain could saunter out into the world again too and pick up right where they left off. And the city, their beloved city…

“Of course,” the villain replied, with a smile of soft and terrible promise. They yanked the hero’s hair, to drag them close, to bestow a sweet devil’s kiss upon their temple. “And I always be.”

***

It took over a year for the public and the government and all of the people who had led the hero to the negation table to start squirming. To start whispering that maybe, just maybe, they wanted the hero back. The villain hadn’t been that bad, right? The villain had been bluffing. Surely.

When the hero said no the first time, there was talk of the hero being broken. Of the fact that it was only what they all deserved for handing off their best defender like a lamb to its cliché and inevitable slaughter. There was talk of great sacrifice and greater duty.

When the hero said no for perhaps the twentieth time, there was anger. And then feelings that made anger seem like nothing. 

“You would make an excellent villain,” the villain told them. “I’ve never seen someone so unbothered by a rising mob. They have proverbial pitchforks outside your window.”

The hero shot the villain a look, switching off the TV and so the news with its tearful pleas.

“But you were always colder than I was,” the villain said, in open admiration, if a dash of something else too. The hero was slowly getting used to that. “I’d say, don’t worry, I protect what’s mine, but you don’t really need it, do you?”

“If you try and attack civilians on my watch, however many pitchforks they brandish at me I’ll consider you in breach of contract.”

The villain laughed, though not like they thought the hero was joking or bragging at something they were incapable of doing.

But maybe that was the difference between them.

For all of the unique challenges since their ‘surrender’, the hero had come to care for the villain. Though, if they had been brutally honest, they had cared for them long before any dealings were made. It simply hadn’t mattered. It still didn’t, when it really got down to it.

The villain would give up the world for them, but the hero wouldn’t give up the world for the villain, no matter how much their heart might or might not ache at any given moment.

They both knew it. 

The suspicious thing was that, after over a year, the villain was making such an obvious point of something they both already knew. The hero rose to their feet, crossing the room, looming over the villain.

“You are not,” they said, “going to hurt civilians if they lash out at me for this. Not even to remind them why exactly they should be scared of you.  Especially not for that.”

“Oh, I don’t need to remind them. They’re idiots. You know, and that’s what matters.”

“That’s not a promise that you’re not going to break our deal and hurt them. You did just point out that I don’t need your protection.”

“No,” the villain said. They reached up a hand, tangling their fingers into the hero’s t-shirt to tug them down into the villain’s lap. “You don’t need it. I also know, despite the various think pieces, that you’re not so pitiful as to be a punching bag for other people laying down either.”

“In other words,” the hero cupped the villain’s jaw, “take care of it, or I will.”

The villain grinned at them.

The hero rolled their eyes. “I’m not going to hurt civilians either.”

“You could scare them a little. It could be my birthday present.”

“Nice try.”

“It would be for the greater good.”

“You could try being nice and not putting me in an impossible position.”

“Why would I do that? This is so much more fun. I wouldn't even be the one breaking the contract if something happened.”

The hero dug their nails in.

“Because I’m yours,” they suggested, sugar sweet, “and you protect what’s yours?”

The villain paused, before closing their mouth again. “As I said,” they said, after a long moment, letting the hero trace the vulnerable line of their jugular. “Excellent villain capabilities. Utterly ruthless. No wonder you're mine.”

“Of course,” the hero replied, with a gleam of something dangerous and unbreaking and very-lucky-for-the-world-that-they’re-one-of-the-good-guys in their eyes. “I’m the best.”

One day, a time would come when sparing the world the villain would not be the best choice. There would be a much greater threat. The hero would feel compelled to act, and god help anyone who got in the way. God help them both at the inevitable battle that might follow. But it was not, yet, that day.

And so the world kept ticking on without them for a little while longer.