Crossed Paths |
Prompt:
The hero shows up at the villain’s doorstep one night. They’re shivering, bleeding, scared. There’s also a slightly dazed look in their eyes– they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villain, swaying slightly as they’re close to passing out, they mumble “…didn’t know where else to go…” then collapse into the villain’s arms.
Also consider the reverse. The villain shows up on the hero’s doorstep in that state.
The hero shows up at the villain’s doorstep one night. They’re shivering, bleeding, scared. There’s also a slightly dazed look in their eyes– they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villain, swaying slightly as they’re close to passing out, they mumble “…didn’t know where else to go…” then collapse into the villain’s arms.
Also consider the reverse. The villain shows up on the hero’s doorstep in that state.
A strange, disconnected sort of terror had seized him. Every part of him was screaming to stop moving, to quit making everything worse, but the wall behind him exploded and he pressed closer to the part still standing as he was peppered with bits of concrete too small to do any real harm. The roll of dust choked him.
"Shit," he hissed between clenched teeth, blood splattering the pavement as his hand slipped against his wound. He didn't want to die. Not like this. Not because some hero was too busy throwing down with a villain to worry about bystanders.
The thought made his blood boil under the drowning waves of fear and desperation.
The world spun around him and he slammed into the wall he was using as support. He swallowed back a wave of nausea but the pain wasn't helping and he was certain he was going to be sick.
It was like his head was filled with static. He couldn't see, couldn't hear, could barely think as his body threatened to give out on him. He shoved at the wall but he wasn't sure if he was even standing anymore. If he stayed there, if he didn't move, he was going to die. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die!
"-ang in there."
He found himself blinking against a blurry view, brain slowly catching up with what was going on. Someone was there. They were moving over him but he couldn't make a lot of it out. When had he become so numb?
A pained cry ripped itself from his chest destroying the numbness he had been in. The only benefit was the sudden clarity it brought to his mind. When he opened his eyes again, he could clearly see the person tending to him and he tried to recoil with a hiss.
The stranger pressed a gloved hand into his shoulder, their expression pleading even with most of it obscured by a hero's mask. "Wait. I'm not done yet. Just-just a few more minutes and I'll have you stable enough to not bleed out."
He settled but the tension remained in his body. He wasn't about to trust them.
True to their word, they were done after a while, but whether it had been a few minutes or a half an hour, he didn't know. The expression sent his way hinted at relief and gratitude, not that he understood the latter and blamed the mask for hiding the true emotions despite the mask failing to obscure the other's eye color completely; they were blue for some reason. "There. You should be fine now till the paramedics arrive. I'll bring them in but it'll take some time. The fight's made a lot of the area difficult to traverse." There was the sound of an explosion not far off and the hero's head rose, seeking out the source of the noise he was certain the other couldn't actually see. "Not to mention the fight is still happening." The hero's gaze returned to him, as did their gloved hand to his shoulder. "Don't go too far, ok? I'll be right back."
And with that, the hero vanished from his side. The pain in his side was throbbing right along with his pulse and the thought of even twitching made his lips curl in pain. So, instead, he settled in as best he could, closed his eyes, and succumbed to sleep without meaning to.
It would be days later before he discovered who had saved his life and it wasn't even in a way he had expected. It wasn't like he hadn't gone looking. He was curious to know what the hero had even done to stabilize him, what abilities they had and whatnot, but he half remembered their mask and didn't know their name so he was left either hoping to find it in the news articles from that particular day or the hero registry.
He never expected to meet them on the street.
It had been a clip of a shoulder on a populated sidewalk. He was going to just let it go, let the crowd swallow him and not even think about the incident, but the sound of stumbling and the inevitable crash to pavement made his feet still as he looked back. The crowd parted, giving the prone figure and their scattered property a wide berth. Already a few kind souls were stopping to help collect the items scattered about as the figure started to get up, pulling at the items closest to them.
"You alright?" he asked, squatting near them to grab at a bag spilling its content on the ground. An involuntary 'tsk' left his throat as he started chasing marbles.
"Yeah," was the stranger's breathy reply. "Sorry. You don't-you don't have to help. I've got it."
There were soft mutters of thanks to the strangers that handed the collected property to the figure as he took a marble from a grinning child. He offered the child a weak smile before depositing the glass ball back into the bag with its companions. The last marble was between him and the figure but when he went to reach for it, the stranger's hand beat him to it, his fingers bumping up against the back of their hand.
"Ah, sorry," the stranger repeated, jerking back. He brought his gaze up to find a pair of wide, rather familiar pair of blue eyes staring at him. The stranger reached out as the rest of their property was precariously clutched to their chest. "I can take that back now."
A jolt of recognition shot through him as his eyes drifted down, watching the other speak and fret. If his hunch was right - he would bet good money it was - then this was his hero. Curiosity burned through him as hot as the hatred for heroes that hadn't gone away as the days had progressed and he found himself scoffing, taking the marble from the stranger's hand and slipping it into the bag. "Please. If we add anymore to that mess, you'll lose it all over the pavement again."
The stranger's cheeks flushed and he was very glad the other wasn't wearing that stupid hero's mask. They were very expressive, easy to read, and it made getting anywhere in discovering if his hunch was right all that much easier. All he had to do now was get them to stay in contact.
He reached out and took some of the mess out of the stranger's arm. Unfortunately for him, the stranger was jumpy and half of the content between him and the stranger scattered to the pavement again. The stranger's vocalization was more sound than words but he was already bending down and scooping up what had fallen free. It was easy to stack it all in his arms without the fear of losing any of it.
The stranger looked torn as they rushed, "You don't have to do that. I can carry it."
"And now you don't have to." He shifted the pile's weight higher up, settling it against his body. "Lead. I'll follow."
It was interesting watching the relief bleed into the torn expression. "You really don't have to," the stranger urged even as they started walking.
"You're right, I don't." The stranger glanced at him and he couldn't believe how he was able to play the other so easily. He offered a cocky smile. "I want to. Seemed only right after having knocked you over."
The other blushed. It was endearing despite his intent of not letting this go beyond getting information from the other. "Ah, no. That was-someone had bumped me from the other side and I was losing my footing before I clipped your shoulder. And now you're helping me when you didn't have to." The stranger stopped abruptly and he let his surprise shift his expression. "Let me buy you coffee or something for your help."
Well that certainly made things easy but it left a bitter taste on the back of his tongue. He hadn't wanted it to be an obligation. "You don't have to-"
"I want to," the stranger cut through. Did the stranger say that out of a true desire to or to throw his own words back at him? "If you don't like coffee, I could buy you lunch. Please. I'll feel bad if you walk away after I've imposed on you."
He waved his hand as if to brush the statement away, the bag of marbles still in his grip swinging back and forth. "I don't want payment."
"But-"
"But I was on my way to lunch," he continued, not giving the other a chance to get started again. "If you truly want to pay me back in some way, then join me. I've had a crappy last few days and pleasant company is rare to come by."
Not that it mattered and he certainly didn't know the stranger well enough to know if they really were pleasant company but the grin that broke out on the other's face was worth it.
He would deny later that it had swayed his hand when the other had beat him to the check when it was brought.
"I was serious when I said you didn't have to pay for lunch, Liam," he urged halfheartedly, hand still hanging in the air between them.
The other gave him a playful grin, the tip of the other's tongue caught between their front teeth. It was a ridiculous expression but after everything, he found it fit rather well on the other.
"You say that but I don't see you reaching across the table for the check," the other - Liam, he reminded himself - teased. "Besides, after the week you've had, I think I have every right to treat you to lunch. So let me treat you to lunch."
He sagged back into the diner's booth, giving up the last of his stubborn hold. "Fine. But I'm paying next time. It's only fair."
He registered his own words at the same time Liam did. Liam's gaze came up from the milkshake he had been stirring with a gleam of excitement in those depthless blue eyes. "Next time?"
He looked away and hoped the sensation of his cheeks burning was just his imagination. "No. Forget I said anything."
He could practically feel the excitement rolling off of the other and he wasn't sure he wanted to verify if there was hope there as well. "What if I want a next time?"
He inwardly flinched at that thought. He had no intention of letting this become a....a thing but it seemed like the world was against him just making this an information run.
He would have to work against this soft part of himself if he wanted to change the world for the better.
"And if I don't?"
The other shrugged, going back to his milkshake. "Then don't show up and I'll leave you alone." Liam stuck his hand out, grinning. "Give me your phone."
"Why?" he asked, hesitation and distrust heavy in that single word even as he fished it out of his pocket.
"This way you can't use the excuse of losing my number," Liam told him, sounding proud of himself. He felt the other was entitled to that pride because he had been sourly tempted on feigning losing it as he tossed it into the nearest trash bin. "You'd have to manually delete it."
He unlocked it and tapped the phone icon, not sure if he was content with going through with this or not. A sort of numbness had settled over him in lieu of his indecisive emotional decision even as his injury dully throbbed. He had waited too long to take his meds but as he watched Liam input his contact info, he figured it had been worth it.
"Classic spelling of Roderick, right?" Liam asked, passing his phone back even as the other fished for his in turn. A muffled chiming emanated from the same pocket Liam was rooting through as he took his phone back, nodding.
"C-r-e-e-d," he added as an afterthought, watching Liam punch in his first name and start on his last.
"Awesome. I've got to get these supplies to the daycare so I'll text you later." Liam quickly pulled the now bagged supplies towards him from the far side of the bench as he pocketed his phone. "We can coordinate our next lunch then, yeah?"
He nodded. "Sure."
Liam beamed before rushing out the door. Roderick looked down at his phone, the screen still open to the new contact page. 'Liam Grace' glared up at him as if to mock him. He couldn't help but feel like he was getting in too deep for something so menial but the lunch had been rather pleasant and he was looking forward to seeing Liam again. He had not been wrong when he had said pleasant company wasn't a bad thing after the last few days.
A part of him hoped his suspicion was wrong.
It was a month later when he confirmed that Liam was his 'hero' and, looking back, he found that he had missed the subtle hints that had told him he had been right since their first meeting; the tail end of glances towards his side with an expression he could now decipher having all the information, the eagerness to keep in contact, the constant barrage of attention. All of it was to sooth some part of Liam's hero persona just checking in on him. He expected Liam to vanish from his life after he had fully healed but the other stuck around and wormed his way into Roderick's life so thoroughly, five years vanished before his very eyes and he came home to find Liam standing in the middle of his living room grinning from ear to ear, flowers and balloons artistically scattered everywhere and a bouquet in hand. The boyish grin on the other's face had a smile tugging at his own lips as he tugged his shoes off.
"What's all this?" he asked, already having an inkling. Liam had been far too giddy the last few days and it hadn't been hard to figure it had something to do with the day.
"Happy Five Years since we met," Liam happily chirped, offering him the bouquet.
As much as he wasn't a flower person, at least Liam had gotten him ones he didn't overly mind having around every now and again. He took the proffered gift, tapping at the balloon on a stick that proclaimed 'Happy Anniversary' in bubbly letters. He chuckled. "I've told you we don't have to celebrate today."
It always brings back the memories of why we're together.
Liam's grin only got bigger. "I know, but I want to. Here." The other dug through the blankets on the couch before offering the gift to him. He rolled his eyes and set the bouquet on the coffee table before taking the gift. He frowned at the weight. It was heavier than he had expected. "What is it?" he asked even as he tore at the paper.
"You'll see."
The wrapping paper fell away and he turned the object over in his hands. The box was rather plain and told him nothing of what was trapped within the black confines. He tucked it into his elbow to pull the lid off.
Ice raced through him at the possible implications of the object nestled in a cloud of white tissue paper.
"I've been looking for it for a while now. It's the right one, right?"
The object was a rather unbecoming book but he knew the contents inside were more than the cover let on. He reached in, a stray thought wondering where the lid had gone.
The book was the majority of the weight, the box slipping from his arm as he stopped registering its soft weight. With shaking hands, he carefully opened the worn book and watched as it fell open to some page off center. The passages that glared up at him from the thin pages made it hard for him to breathe. "Where did you find this?" he asked, his voice coming out raspy and breathless.
"Some little back shop. It had been in the window." Liam's words were nonchalant but there was an undercurrent of concern. He couldn't bring himself out of his shock and growing fear that Liam knew. "Is it the right one?"
The repeated question finally registered in his brain and he flipped to the front of the book. It was easy finding the page he knew would only exist in the edition he had been looking for. Sure enough, the page stared up at him in words he never believed he would ever read again in his life. "Yeah," he choked out.
He had been looking for this book long before the hero incident all those years ago and now that it was in his hands, he wasn't sure if it was real. Liam's arms snaked around him, though, and those were real. He closed the book as it got pinned between them and he grabbed at the back of Liam's shirt with his free hand, his other pinned with the book between their chests. His entire body was shaking and he wasn't sure if it was relief, glee, or dread causing it.
That book turned out to be a curse rather than the gift it had been intended for. He had utilized the contents well, using them to strengthen his abilities and reach higher ranks in among the villains' organization as heroes started paying attention to him. He met every hero - and villain - that came at him head on despite avoiding physical confrontations with any of them. That is, all except for the hero named Echo.
Liam's hero persona, Echo, became a formidable opponent against the other villains as the years passed and he gained experience. Roderick made sure that he never crossed Echo's path as a villain. He was certain the other would see right through him before the fight even began.
But sometimes things don't go as planned and he found himself slumped against the wall of some alleyway staring at Liam's front door. The other was home. He could see movement behind the closed blinds despite the rain trying to drown him. He was tempted to find some hovel and lick his wounds but he needed immediate attention and he couldn't go home. He couldn't even get out of his villain attire without help and despite all the friends he had made over the years, it was Liam he wanted to go to, Liam he was drawn to, Liam who he trusted. But he didn't want to break this to Liam, not like this. Never like this.
He didn't remember sliding down the brick wall to sink onto his knees in the growing puddle at his feet.
He didn't know Liam had seen him till the other's hands were on him, shaking in a way he didn't know they could as his lover's voice quaked around him.
Pain flared from the most fatal of the wounds and it broke whatever had kept Liam's words at bay.
"-ay something!"
"Liam," he croaked, choking on the word and coughing. The sound was wet and painful. He wondered if it was a punctured lung or simply accumulation from everything else.
"Rodey," Liam all but sobbed.
He hissed when the other tried to move him.
"I have to get you inside," Liam spoke, his voice flat and taking on the cadences that were more common for Echo than Liam. "I can't-you'll bleed out if I don't get you inside."
"Don't-" he tried but Liam was already slipping his arms around Roderick and hefting him up into his arms. He gave a strangled cry and Liam's arms convulsed around him.
The next thing he knew, he was waking up in a foreign room too sterile to be any part of Liam's house and too fancy to be any normal hospital.
The lack of equipment and pain told him enough.
He shoved at his blankets, a sneer on his face as he moved. His body was sore, echoes of what he had gone through coursing through him in time with his pulse.
Whatever they had put him in, he hated. It felt wrong, it felt too sterile, and he nearly sighed in relief when he saw a change of clothes sitting on a chair. He grabbed at it and immediately recognized the different fabrics. One outfit was some clothes he had left at Liam's; the other was his villain costume. Curiosity got the better of him and he unfolded the pieces, finding that it had been repaired - or replaced, there wasn't even any marks where he had been hit. It made his stomach churn at the thought of how many knew.
He was pulling his shirt on when someone cleared their throat. As soon as his head was free from his shirt, he glared at the intruder, grateful he had put his pants on first. "You must be the Director," he stated coldly.
The woman looked rather plain and harmless but he knew that was all a lie. She was the head of the hero organization and that meant she could outmaneuver him verbally without breaking a sweat. She was the world's greatest tactician and he was nothing more than a pawn to her.
"And you're Silence, Echo's counterpart," she spoke, her words crisp but her voice soft. It was unusual to hear but, then, he was from a big city. "Or, at least when you're wearing that villain mask of yours."
He didn't care to glance at the pile of fabric haphazardly draped about the chair, regardless if she gestured at it. Silence settled over them but he wasn't about to break it first. He had long since gotten good at waiting people out and he was always ready to have at a battle of wits on that front. She didn't let them stand in that silence long and it proved to be in his favor he hadn't spoken up.
"Liam speaks highly of you, despite your alignment."
He shrugged. "Liam likes everyone."
"A bluff." She wasn't wrong, but neither was he. "He cares about the masses. He hates quite a number of people."
"And I'm pretty sure I'm on that shit list now." He crossed his arms over his chest, trying and failing to calm the apprehension rising like bile in his throat. "What of it?"
Silence stretched between them. He itched to snap at her, to tell her to just up and tell him already, but he was stubborn and had already proven he was willing to wait her out.
She eventually ceded when it seemed she had settled on her thoughts. "He was in a panic when he brought you to us, begging us to keep this hidden and to heal you. He didn't care you were a villain. But we did."
He raised an eyebrow at her, taunting, "What? Are you going to throw me in prison now? Last I checked, there's no body count for you to pin on me, no evidence to keep me there."
"Why is there no body count, Roderick?" He flinched, hating his name on her tongue. "Out of all the villains we've ever dealt with, you are the only one that meets heroes head to head and go out of your way to keep that hero in check. You use your words to distract and disarm heroes when there are civilians around. When they come at you physically, you keep a step ahead of them, keeping them from any bystanders and doing your best to keep collateral damage down to a minimum. Even your own men swoop in, corralling people out of the way, going through and doing patches where they can during the fight, offering aid where they can to help your efforts. Why is that?"
He scoffed. "I would be surprised if you hadn't already had a theory."
"Then I am not wrong to assume it has to do with the unfortunate event that had you meeting Echo in the first place?"
"That might have something to do with it."
"Then why that book?"
His expression split into a feral grin, the humor there dark and as sharp as the look he sent her. "I dare you to guess."
"It enhances your abilities."
He laughed at that, but it was more of a bark and just as sharp as his grin. "Try again."
"It controls your abilities."
"It controls others' abilities, too, you know," he offered nonchalant as he gathered his belongings. "It's easy to recruit people when you can guarantee that they never have to suffer the sting of causing others harm."
He wasn't sure why she had let him walk out.
He tried looking for Liam, tried to see if he was going to be the one to take him home, but no matter who he asked, they all said he had left already. He found the Director waiting at the front doors by the time he managed to admit defeat.
Betrayal burned through him as he stalked by.
The setting sun was sharp against the glass of the transport but he couldn't feel its heat against his skin. The window was too thick, too tinted against the rays for him to be able to. He looked away.
Over and over his options rolled around his mind. Yes it hurt that Liam hadn't been there, that the other had left without him, but he shoved it away in the face of more pressing matters and every solution that came to mind was worse than the last.
It wasn't till he was almost home in the back of some organization car that he brought up his texts with Liam. He was shaking but his fingers were steady against the screen. He wrote, rewrote, deleted all of it changing his mind, and started again when he changed it back to the point that when he found himself on his doorstep, he had yet to send Liam any correspondence. But he had one ready. All he had to do was press send.
He read it once more. He knew this made him the largest coward but he didn't have any other choice that didn't result in them both dying. At least this way Liam would have a chance.
He pressed send and turned the screen off.
He slipped his key into the lock and turned it. It gave easily, the lock sliding back with a solid clicking thud. The door opened into the dark entryway. There was a light on in the living room, one of the lamps if he gauged the lighting right, and thought nothing of it till a painfully familiar, ungodly cheerful chirruping rang from the living room.
"Seriously?" he asked, giving Liam a skeptical look.
The other grinned at him. "What? I like it. Think it fits."
His look flattened. "That fits me?"
"Oh yeah," Liam assured him. He wasn't sure if there was sarcasm in Liam's words or not. "Fits your sunny disposition perfectly."
"Change it."
Liam grinned at him. "No."
"I'm breaking your phone."
"Only if you get your hands on it."
He closed his eyes against the inevitable as he closed the door and stepped away. Echoes of the past haunted his every step.
"'Liam,'" echoed about as he stepped into the living room. He found Liam sitting on the couch, phone in hand and reading out loud with an unreadable expression. "'I'm sorry. I have to leave, to put distance between us. Don't follow. There's nothing you can do to change this. I hope you find someone else soon.'"
The silence that followed was oppressive.
He wondered if his control was slipping, if they were both slipping, but the thing that had his tongue lead in his mouth was how that had sounded out loud. He shouldn't have sent it.
"So that's it?" Liam challenged. His voice was uncharacteristically lacking. "You were just going to break up with me? Over text?"
"Liam," he tried, but whatever else he was going to say caught in his throat.
It didn't matter. Liam didn't even give him a chance to try as the other stood up to be face to face with him. "I go out of my way to get you the best help I could get to save your life, put both of us in jeopardy for the risks I took doing so while assuring your secret wouldn't get out, and before I even get told they let you go, let alone that you were heading home, I get this?" He gestured with his phone. "Is this how you see us? See me? Like I'm something to just ditch when times get tough? What about the last three years? The last five?!"
Anger flared in him and for the first time since they met, the rage that had always been burning inside him towards every hero except for Liam's persona was suddenly turned on Liam. "I'm not ditching you because it's convenient," he snarled and Liam jerked back at that, retaliating, "I never said-" but he didn't let Liam finish that thought. "I'm trying to save us both!"
"By leaving me behind?!"
"What else do you want me to do?!" he bellowed. "If you come with me, it will put us in more jeopardy than the risk you took saving my life! We will never have a quiet life and you can't tell me that these last five years were! Not when you left me behind too many times to count every time you went up against some villain out of your league!"
He sucked in air like he was suffocating but the words wouldn't stop. He couldn't make them stop. "I tracked every fight you had and intervened as best I could. It certainly grew easier the higher up I got but it still hurt every time I saw just how much damage you took doing some stupid stunt!"
"So you've known? All this time and you never confronted me about Echo?!"
"How was I supposed to approach you about that?!" He snarled, "You would veto any conversation dealing with heroes and I figured it was a guise; pretend to not like heroes as part of your cover story, makes it easier for people to not suspect you."
"When did you figure it out."
The demand was sharp, quiet, and ice cold. He sucked in a breath against it, the act curling his lip as he stared Liam down. "I suspected the day our shoulders hit. I was certain a month later."
A breathy laugh left Liam. The other took a step back as his weight shifted, head falling back as his eyes went to the ceiling. "So you’ve known from day one and yet you never thought to let me in on yours?"
Liam's blue eyes were on him again, ever fathomless but closed off to him. He couldn't help but feel like he deserved so much more hate from the other than just this; he was going to deserve so much more than this. "Yes," he confirmed, his voice soft but filling the room anyways.
Liam jerked back at that, shaking his head. "Of course you did." He gave a bark of a laugh that sounded hollow to Roderick. "Of course you did! Why would you tell me anything?!"
"Liam," he tried to counter but the other rounded on him.
"Were you ever going to tell me? Were you waiting till after we got married or something or was I going to find out when you finally got killed or arrested?"
The words were on his tongue in an instant and it was easy to spit out the lie despite knowing it was going to ruin everything. There was no coming back from this. It at least guaranteed Liam's safety at minimum.
"I never intended to marry you."
The rage vanished from Liam's face right along with the color and it was all he could do to keep going, to keep up the charade as it killed him in the process.
"I simply humored the speculation to keep you unaware."
Pain flared in his right temple as his vision went white from the well deserved punch. He could hear Liam's erratic breathing over the pounding of his own pulse in his ears.
"I hope they catch you," Liam spat, voice quaking with emotion. "I hope that you suffer when they do."
There was no clarification on who that 'they' was and it didn't really matter because he agreed with him. The front door slammed shut with so much force, the windows rattled from it.
He found himself sinking to the floor as he tried to swallow the sorrow choking him.
He lasted long enough for Liam to be well out of earshot before the first sob broke free.
It was followed by so many more.
An hour later found him puffy eyed and hoarse but packed and locking his front door for the last time. He had things to do, places to be, people to hide and to hide from. He didn't have the luxury of curling up under the covers and never coming out again.
The only personal affect he kept was a picture that Liam had taken. There were no people in it; only a close-up of an old tree's trunk where a new sprout was blooming. It reminded him of what he had given up and why he was doing any of this.
His villain persona Silence vanished from the villain scene and he replaced it with Dead Air. Dead Air was ruthless in filling in the gap Silence had left in the elite. Only a few people speculated that Silence and Dead Air were the same villain. Dead Air wouldn't harm civilians either but many just figured Dead Air had worked for Silence. Dead Air was far too ruthless towards those that went up against him to be the same quiet, reserved villain Silence had been.
Dead Air also went toe to toe with heroes, dishing out more damage than he took in any physical fight. People used that to shoot down any theories of Silence and Dead Air being one and the same.
He didn't even flinch when Echo turned up during one of his fights with other heroes four years after their nasty breakup. He let himself be Dead Air and had at Echo like he would any other hero. Afterwards he would be pleased at discovering that Echo had learned over the years and had gotten better.
He should have suspected that wouldn't be the last time he would see the hero.
For whatever reason, Echo was suddenly up against Dead Air constantly and for the last year, Roderick had to put up with seeing the other. It was easy to find when and why Liam had moved to Roderick's new stomping grounds. It had been even easier to make sure he lived as far away from that particular area so that there was no chance that Liam would ever run into him in public.
But that didn't mean he wasn't findable.
"Dead Air!"
His head snapped up seeking out the subordinate that had called out to him. Despite the smaller numbers compared to what Silence had as a following, he still found himself amazed at how many had followed him as he changed to Dead Air. That little book he had yet to touch since becoming Dead Air had given him one last tool he had used to make sure everyone that had followed him when he was Silence were unable to even remember they had. He made sure all of them were well off, though, but still many were adamant about staying at his side even when he changed to Dead Air and rid them of all memories of Silence.
He still remembered every name.
"What is it, Thirteen?" he gently ordered.
"You've got to come see this."
Frowning, he left the table full of building schematics, charts of varying types, and those he was consoling with for the next big project. He followed Thirteen through the halls to the entrance.
He involuntarily sucked air in through clenched teeth as both parts surprise and concern slammed into him.
Echo was huddled in the tiny entryway with Two and Twenty-six. The two subordinates weren't touching the hero but they had placed themselves between the hero and the exit in a way that spoke of keeping something out rather than keeping the hero in. He realized that Echo wasn't just huddled in on himself; the other was shivering, bleeding, and most importantly, scared. There was a dazed look in those too wide blue eyes barely obscured by the hero's mask. Roderick knew that look and anger flared through him at the thought of anyone drugging heroes, let alone Echo.
Clearly already uneasy on his feet - and probably close to passing out if Roderick was reading everything right - he nearly toppled himself over when his head snapped up as Roderick approached.
He watched as the clearly jumpy hero moved away from Two when the subordinate reached out to steady him. It only made his concern grow sharper.
Something wasn't right.
He closed the space between them and didn't give Echo a chance to avoid his touch as he grabbed the other's upper arms where he hoped there weren't hidden injuries. Echo whimpered, words rolling over themselves in a choked whisper as Roderick watched the other start to quickly lose the fight against passing out. "Didn't...didn't know where else to go."
He saw the moment Echo lost the fight. It was all he could do to keep from worsening the other's injuries as Echo collapsed. He carefully shifted his hold getting Echo's limp form to slump against his chest so that he could get under the other enough to pick him up.
He gritted his teeth against seeing signs of possible torture, his blood boiling.
"Call Nine. If she can't come in, call Seven. I want them here as soon as possible. Arrange transport if you need to."
"Yes, sir!" echoed around him as he turned and stormed towards the medical rooms. There weren't many in the base - only three, really, but one was set up for emergency surgeries, one for examinations and minor injuries, and the largest one reminiscent of an emergency room for those bedridden to wait till they could be transported to a proper hospital.
He took Echo to the examination room. Someone had called ahead of him because Six was there pulling the paper across the examination table. They helped him lay Echo down as carefully as the pair of them could manage.
Thirteen reappeared, breathless. "Seven is two minutes out, Nine twenty. They both directed that unless the patient is bleeding out, not to do anything till they get here."
"Inform them I moved the patient from the entrance to the examination room," he ordered, his tone restrained.
Thirteen brought their hand up to the earpiece only to pause before the motion could be completed. They met his gaze again. "As long as you don't do any more damage, that should be fine. Seven's words. Nine echoed his sentiments, though more politely."
Thirteen flinched, hand actually clasping the earpiece. He chuckled, lips curling in amusement as he heard the echoes of Seven's voice in the hall. "Seven, don't make Thirteen deaf. I happen to like having subordinates that can hear," he chastised with very little heat as he stepped around Thirteen into the hall.
"Will all due respects, sir," came a snarky comment from around a nearby corner, Thirteen echoing the words till he too noticed that Seven had arrived. Said subordinate stepped around the corner and gave him a hard look, "if you want me to not deafen any of the others, remind them to keep their snarky comments to themselves."
He chuckled again. "I'll keep that in mind." His expression sobered. "Not a word to anyone what transpires from here on out. No identities, no events, nothing."
Seven gave a brisk nod. "Of course, sir. Anyone that is privy to the information?"
"Thirteen, Two, Six, and Twenty-six, Nine as well once she arrives. You have my permission to pull in what hands you need but make sure they understand the severity of the situation. Do not bring in people you cannot trust to keep their mouth shut."
Seven gave a half bow, uttering, "Of course, sir," before slipping into the room and closing the door.
He turned to Thirteen. "Gather Two, Twenty-six, Eleven, and Four and meet me in 206."
"Eleven and Four, sir?"
"I passed them in the hallway. I want them to be there for the same conversation. Hopefully it'll be before either of them had a chance to talk to others."
Thirteen nodded and took off down the hallway.
An hour passed in a blur. It took a whole fifteen minutes to make sure that word of Echo's arrival didn't spread beyond the initial subordinates. It had but only by one degree so he counted that as luck. After that, he sent the entire place from languid existence to a vibrating hive of activity. Subordinates were called in and there was a constant stream of new arrivals to the situation. Some weren't even brought in. Instead, they were immediately sent on missions - most of them recon. As much as he felt no right to seek revenge against whoever had harmed Liam, he couldn't help the burning rage towards anyone stupid enough to do that where he would find it.
He had killed for far less.
"Dead Air, sir." He brought his head up, looking at Six as she came to a stop at his side. "Seven wishes to speak with you."
"I'll be there in a moment," he informed her.
"He said it couldn't wait."
He frowned, bringing his head up to look at Six. She looked stressed, hands clasped together so tightly, they were almost white from the force of it. "Ok. Give me one minute."
It was easy passing command on to Thirteen and Thirty-six for his brief absence. The pair took it in stride as he turned and followed Six's quick pace towards the medical rooms.
He frowned when he saw the stream of bodies coming in and out of the room prepped for surgeries. Seven was standing in the middle of the hallway waiting for them.
"How bad is he?" left his lips as soon as he was close enough to Seven before he could even try and stall them.
"He needs a proper hospital," Seven berated, though there was an edge to the words that he recognized, "but transferring him now would be dangerous."
He gestured to the examination room they were standing in front of. Seven reached the door as he clarified, "So pretty bad, then."
Six remained outside, her back towards the door as Seven closed it. He didn't have enough thought to expend on extrapolating why she was standing guard.
"Sir," Seven inquired, still standing at the closed door, handle clenched in his hand. Seven's gaze finally looked at him. "How did he get here?"
He shook his head. "Walked, I presume. Two and Twenty-six said that the area beyond the entrance was empty when he had frantically pounded at the door."
Seven let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his graying hair. "That man should not have been able to move, let alone conscious. The amount of damage done to his body-"
Seven cut himself off but Roderick found he couldn't let the man leave it at that.
"How bad, Seven," he ordered, voice as controlled as he could manage.
Seven squared himself off again and Roderick mentally applauded the man's ability to regroup mentally so quickly. "Numerous minor breaks, several severe breaks, two of which in the leg and pelvis. He should not have been able to walk even the shortest of distances. Not only that, but multiple punctures and gashes that will require extensive sterilization and stitches, torn ligaments that will need resting and at least one joint to realign." Seven's expression tightened. "Sir, I have to ask: how close were you to him?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
Seven's expression didn't change. "Because what I'm about to say may not be handled with the utmost care."
"I'll be fine. What is it?"
A pause, one that made his chest ache with fear, and anger flare as his impatience grew.
"There are numerous signs of rape, and not just by one person."
There wasn't air to breath in when all of it left his lungs. His vision blurred as he tried to get his brain to form coherent sentences his lips could form and speak, but it didn't happen. It was a miracle he even found the chair.
"Sir?"
He didn't know how much time had passed but it seemed to be enough to warrant Seven's concerned expression to be far too close for his current liking. He sat up straighter even as he choked on his next words. "Please tell me they were stupid enough to leave DNA behind."
The savage grin that stretched Seven's face was a balm to his emotional turmoil.
"It has already been sent for processing," Seven informed him. "If their DNA is in any system, we'll find it."
"Good."
Seven's vicious energy died down. "Sir, I have one other question."
He waved Seven's trepidation away, reminding the other, "You're welcome to as many as you need. If they help him, I don't care what they are."
"Why didn't you take him to the hero organization?"
He met Seven's gaze, studied the man's curious albeit confused expression. "If he came here," he spoke slowly, uttering a thought he had been dwelling on since Echo's arrival, "then that means that the hero organization was no longer safe for him to go to. I will not risk his life more than I already have by sending him somewhere he may get better care but put in far more danger."
Seven nodded. "You believe the hero organization has corruption in it."
"I know it does," he countered sharply. "Saw it with my own eyes years ago. Even heroes can be homophobic assholes."
"So you two were that close, then."
He glared at Seven who was conveniently not looking at him. "What does that mean?"
Seven glanced at him, an eyebrow raised. "Nothing offensive, I assure you. My own partner would murder me in broad daylight if they heard I spoke ill of another in the community and they are no villain. Simply put, I can prepare for you to be a bit more agitated when it comes to his well being. I will do my best to make sure you receive updates as regularly as possible."
He shook his head, surprised at the relief that had tempered some of his unease about all of this. He really shouldn't have been surprised at how nonchalant Seven was about all this. "Don't interrupt your work for me. I will be busy enough as it is that I don't need regular updates. Just inform me when you're done and give me a prognosis then."
"Of course, sir. Anything else?"
He stood, squaring himself. "Take good care of him, Seven. I'm counting on your team to keep him alive."
"Always, sir."
He hadn't been lying when he said he would be busy. At first he watched the minutes tick by but Thirteen and Thirty-six drew him back into the work and suddenly his attention was pulled away from the stacks of papers he had been reading, finding the room void of all but his visitor with only the few lights he needed to be able to read.
"Six," he spoke, the word coming off a tad harsh. Exhaustion pulled at him now that he was no longer distracted. "I thought I had dismissed all day subordinates."
"You did," she assured him. "I and a number of others stayed to continue helping Seven and Nine." She shifted her weight. "We're done. Seven and Nine wanted to give you an update before they went home. They've already given the night shift their directions, not that many of them needed them beyond the standard's basics."
The files were abandoned.
Hours passed in the blink of an eye. He had crashed some point after seeing Seven and Nine off, as well as a number of those that had aided them. When he had awoken, it was to sharp sunlight through the barely covered window and to the sounds of a bustling hallway.
Thirteen and Thirty-six had made sure his absence wasn't even noticed so he let them keep at it, taking the opportunity to check in on Echo like he had wanted to the night before but had refrained from doing.
The largest medical room was void of humans. The beds were all clean and prepped, ready to go at a moment's notice. All the dividing curtains were tied back till they were needed, leaving the room feeling open and far larger than it really was. At the back was the nurses' desk situated in the middle of the horseshoe shape of the more private rooms. The rooms on either side of the corral of a desk were nothing more than indents in the wall large enough to house a gurney, a small counter with a sink, and the minimal equipment needed. These were all dark and each curtain that would have made up the fourth wall and 'door' was pushed open. On the back wall were only a few actual doors that led into similar rooms. He went to the one on the farthest left and opened it, finding a room well lit by sunlight with a sleeping occupant.
It was rather quiet beyond that door.
The door clicked softly behind him as he stared at Echo's face. No, Liam's. The hero mask was nowhere to be seen and the costume had long since been traded for a hospital gown. It was all he could do to move away from the door.
He didn't know how long he stood there watching the rise and fall of Liam's chest knowing that if things had gone differently, their surroundings would be completely different and that chest wouldn't be moving.
Something broke his thoughts and he finally looked away. It was easy logging into the computer and pulling up Liam's medical files. He started skimming through the information, taking in the x-rays and ct scans and every other note he could find. The raw medical documents seemed so much more absolute than any report he received from a subordinate.
He frowned as he stumbled over some of the language.
"Didn't know you knew medicine."
He looked over to find Liam's fathomless blue eyes barely open and a bit glazed from the powerful painkillers Seven had him on. But they were still as kind and mischievously joyful as they had been before he had gone and destroyed their relationship in the cruelest way he could imagine. It seemed wrong that he was being looked at that way again. "Enough to be of use till more skilled hands can step in."
Liam hummed and Roderick focused back on the screen, assuming that was the end of that.
Oh, how wrong he was.
"I went looking for you, you know."
He froze mid scroll, those few words halting every thought process he had. He forced a scoff, mentally shoving the shock away. "I'm not overly difficult to find. Case in point: you're currently in my base."
"Rodey. I know it's you."
He feigned ignorance even as he clenched his jaw and tried to swallow against the tightness in his throat. "I will have to speak with Seven. It would seem you hit your head far harder than we thought."
"Roderick."
He glanced over. He hadn't meant to and had no intentions of giving in, of admitting defeat, but Liam's voice was coaxing, tired, and still spoke his name as if it was the most precious thing to him.
"You should have stayed away," he croaked, unable to fake it anymore.
Liam shook his head as best he could while injured. "I couldn't have even if I wanted to." Those blue eyes met his again. "When I finally registered the words I had spoken out of spite and betrayal - when what you were doing finally clicked in my slow brain - you had already vanished off the face of the planet. You left no trace of where you had gone and I burned through every lead I could scrounge up. No matter where we were heading, after everything had settled, I hadn't wanted to say goodbye like that."
"I didn't give you a choice," he consoled, but Liam had none of it.
"It doesn't matter. I wasn't about to let what we had go down in a fiery wreck. Or, at least, I was going to try." Liam gave a soft smile. It looked tired. "When word got to me of this new villain cutting through the ranks, I had thought nothing of it till I heard the name." That soft smile broke out into as full of a grin as the other could manage. "Dead Air? Really?"
He shrugged, defensive but too exhausted to do anything with it. "I hadn't intended to choose it. It was the only one that stuck."
Liam chuckled. "I had heard the speculations of you being Silence just renamed but it wasn't sticking. Most of those that wanted it to stick couldn't find an angle where it did but I knew the moment I saw the first video feed. Your costume and tactics may have changed, but the way you hold yourself and the way your people follow you is still the same." Liam shifted as if settling more into the bed. Roderick found himself taking a step from the computer but he stomped on the impulse to close the distance and help. "But I knew if you were trying to start over, then there was no need for me to complicate things."
"But you did anyways."
Liam hummed in agreement. "I had managed to keep to our original stomping grounds, though the area where they kept sending me was expanding. I spent six months travelling through Europe because of some villain hunt going on over there that I had been sent to assist that didn't even need me." A soft laugh escaped him. "It was nice over there but I kept bugging the Director to come back and she was adamant about me staying to assist. The head of the European branch of the organization kept telling me they really didn't need my help and to either use it as a vacation or make it back on my own."
A pang of...well, he wasn't sure if it was jealousy, regret, or exhausted sympathy he was feeling but whatever it was weighed down heavily on him as he coaxed, "Did you enjoy it?"
Liam hummed again. "Not as much as I could have. I kept thinking about you everywhere I went. I have so many places I want to take you when we manage to get out of here for a real vacation."
"Liam." As touched as he was at the thought to include him, he couldn't ignore reality. "We can't get back together."
The other deflated but it was minute and the only reason he had seen it was because he had been expecting it. Liam still offered him a smile. "I know. Wishful thinking is all."
He was surprised to find himself at Liam's side but didn't bother to figure out when he had gotten there as he pressed one hand into the mattress to keep himself upright as he brought them to eye level. "Then why are you here? Here in my base, in my stomping grounds?"
Liam shrugged. "I don't know. I keep asking the Director if I'm ever going back home but it's been a year and she keeps giving me non answers followed by assignments. I've been running with rookies and vets so I'm not even sure why I'm here beyond to help." He made a face, continuing, "A few of the heroes and villains haven't taken to kindly to me being here, though."
Roderick chuckled. "I've noticed," he stated, gesturing at Liam with his free hand and Liam chuckled, a strained smile pulling at that injured face. Without his bidding, he was cupping Liam's cheek as carefully as he could, the mattress sinking under his weight as he sat on the edge. "Oh, Liam. What did you get yourself into this time?"
Liam pressed his face into Roderick's soft touch, every facade the hero was trying to keep in place shattering with those words. The sob that racked through the injured body made it convulse but the floodgates were open and Liam didn't stop. Roderick - unable to forget about the injuries the other had - wrapped his arms around the other and held him close. He felt Liam's arms wrap around him, holding on as tight as the other could manage as what fingers weren't splint or in a cast gripped at the back of his shirt.
He stayed there for hours even after LIam had fallen asleep. His mind was reeling from not just the beginning of their conversation but everything they had talked about, everything Liam had hiccuped between sobs, everything he had said between his own tears and rage - none of which was directed at Liam. They had talked about everything, about that day, about what had happened since, and what would happen from that point on. And as much as Roderick would have loved to have sent Liam home, he had a feeling a certain head of the hero organization wouldn't allow it. So, he did the only thing he knew he could do.
There was a soft knock on the door and Thirteen entered. He stayed seated in the chair at Liam's side as the subordinate hovered inside the closed door. "You called, sir?"
Roderick stood slowly. "Gather all the subordinates." He locked eyes with the younger. "We have one last job to do."
Determination settled over Thirteen's expression as the other nodded. With a quick turn, they left without another word.
"Rodey?"
He looked down at Liam, finding those sleep heavy eyes on him once more. "What's going on?"
He reached out, carding his hand through Liam's hair, mindful of the stitches hidden beneath. "Nothing you need to worry about right now. Go back to sleep."
Liam shifted his head, pressing a set of stitches against his palm with enough force that it probably hurt but Liam gave no sign that it did. "Please don't be doing something stupid."
Despite every part of him telling him it was a horrible idea to do this all over again, he pressed his lips against LIam's, soothing only a minute part of the hero's worry. But Liam was kissing him back and Roderick found it hard to pull away enough to say the words he wanted to say. A whine escaped Liam at the lost contact but Roderick pressed their foreheads together, assuring him, "I will be careful but it is time I stopped hiding. I won't be their prey any more and neither will you."
Liam blinked up at him, gaze searching. A sort of desperation coursed through him and he captured the other's lips again, though it was brief. "There's a theatre show coming to town in a few weeks. When all of this settles, would you go with me to see it?"
Liam gave him a breathy laugh, tears streaking down the other's face. They both knew that it wasn't likely either of them were making it out of this alive but they sure as hell were going to try.
"Only if you'll finally marry me."
Roderick's heart twisted in his chest. "After everything I've done, you still want to be tied to this fool."
Liam pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss, laughter still bubbling out of them. "I'm not saying you have to marry me tomorrow, but in a few years when we've worked through all the shit we've created I'm asking if you would marry me."
Roderick gave a watery chuckle. "Is that a proposal, Mr. Grace? Because I don't see you down on one knee."
Liam smacked him with the cast, surprising a laugh out of Roderick as he flinched from it, not that there was any pain from the act. "I would be if you didn't have me bedridden, you asshole."
And despite reality edging in closer, Roderick leaned in close again just to be near Liam silently praying that they made it through this. He wanted to properly propose to Liam, to give him the proposal he deserved and a wedding that would steal his breath away.
He prayed to whatever was listening to be kind to them both and let them have this joy forever.
A cynical part of him wasn't holding its breath
"Shit," he hissed between clenched teeth, blood splattering the pavement as his hand slipped against his wound. He didn't want to die. Not like this. Not because some hero was too busy throwing down with a villain to worry about bystanders.
The thought made his blood boil under the drowning waves of fear and desperation.
The world spun around him and he slammed into the wall he was using as support. He swallowed back a wave of nausea but the pain wasn't helping and he was certain he was going to be sick.
It was like his head was filled with static. He couldn't see, couldn't hear, could barely think as his body threatened to give out on him. He shoved at the wall but he wasn't sure if he was even standing anymore. If he stayed there, if he didn't move, he was going to die. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die!
"-ang in there."
He found himself blinking against a blurry view, brain slowly catching up with what was going on. Someone was there. They were moving over him but he couldn't make a lot of it out. When had he become so numb?
A pained cry ripped itself from his chest destroying the numbness he had been in. The only benefit was the sudden clarity it brought to his mind. When he opened his eyes again, he could clearly see the person tending to him and he tried to recoil with a hiss.
The stranger pressed a gloved hand into his shoulder, their expression pleading even with most of it obscured by a hero's mask. "Wait. I'm not done yet. Just-just a few more minutes and I'll have you stable enough to not bleed out."
He settled but the tension remained in his body. He wasn't about to trust them.
True to their word, they were done after a while, but whether it had been a few minutes or a half an hour, he didn't know. The expression sent his way hinted at relief and gratitude, not that he understood the latter and blamed the mask for hiding the true emotions despite the mask failing to obscure the other's eye color completely; they were blue for some reason. "There. You should be fine now till the paramedics arrive. I'll bring them in but it'll take some time. The fight's made a lot of the area difficult to traverse." There was the sound of an explosion not far off and the hero's head rose, seeking out the source of the noise he was certain the other couldn't actually see. "Not to mention the fight is still happening." The hero's gaze returned to him, as did their gloved hand to his shoulder. "Don't go too far, ok? I'll be right back."
And with that, the hero vanished from his side. The pain in his side was throbbing right along with his pulse and the thought of even twitching made his lips curl in pain. So, instead, he settled in as best he could, closed his eyes, and succumbed to sleep without meaning to.
It would be days later before he discovered who had saved his life and it wasn't even in a way he had expected. It wasn't like he hadn't gone looking. He was curious to know what the hero had even done to stabilize him, what abilities they had and whatnot, but he half remembered their mask and didn't know their name so he was left either hoping to find it in the news articles from that particular day or the hero registry.
He never expected to meet them on the street.
It had been a clip of a shoulder on a populated sidewalk. He was going to just let it go, let the crowd swallow him and not even think about the incident, but the sound of stumbling and the inevitable crash to pavement made his feet still as he looked back. The crowd parted, giving the prone figure and their scattered property a wide berth. Already a few kind souls were stopping to help collect the items scattered about as the figure started to get up, pulling at the items closest to them.
"You alright?" he asked, squatting near them to grab at a bag spilling its content on the ground. An involuntary 'tsk' left his throat as he started chasing marbles.
"Yeah," was the stranger's breathy reply. "Sorry. You don't-you don't have to help. I've got it."
There were soft mutters of thanks to the strangers that handed the collected property to the figure as he took a marble from a grinning child. He offered the child a weak smile before depositing the glass ball back into the bag with its companions. The last marble was between him and the figure but when he went to reach for it, the stranger's hand beat him to it, his fingers bumping up against the back of their hand.
"Ah, sorry," the stranger repeated, jerking back. He brought his gaze up to find a pair of wide, rather familiar pair of blue eyes staring at him. The stranger reached out as the rest of their property was precariously clutched to their chest. "I can take that back now."
A jolt of recognition shot through him as his eyes drifted down, watching the other speak and fret. If his hunch was right - he would bet good money it was - then this was his hero. Curiosity burned through him as hot as the hatred for heroes that hadn't gone away as the days had progressed and he found himself scoffing, taking the marble from the stranger's hand and slipping it into the bag. "Please. If we add anymore to that mess, you'll lose it all over the pavement again."
The stranger's cheeks flushed and he was very glad the other wasn't wearing that stupid hero's mask. They were very expressive, easy to read, and it made getting anywhere in discovering if his hunch was right all that much easier. All he had to do now was get them to stay in contact.
He reached out and took some of the mess out of the stranger's arm. Unfortunately for him, the stranger was jumpy and half of the content between him and the stranger scattered to the pavement again. The stranger's vocalization was more sound than words but he was already bending down and scooping up what had fallen free. It was easy to stack it all in his arms without the fear of losing any of it.
The stranger looked torn as they rushed, "You don't have to do that. I can carry it."
"And now you don't have to." He shifted the pile's weight higher up, settling it against his body. "Lead. I'll follow."
It was interesting watching the relief bleed into the torn expression. "You really don't have to," the stranger urged even as they started walking.
"You're right, I don't." The stranger glanced at him and he couldn't believe how he was able to play the other so easily. He offered a cocky smile. "I want to. Seemed only right after having knocked you over."
The other blushed. It was endearing despite his intent of not letting this go beyond getting information from the other. "Ah, no. That was-someone had bumped me from the other side and I was losing my footing before I clipped your shoulder. And now you're helping me when you didn't have to." The stranger stopped abruptly and he let his surprise shift his expression. "Let me buy you coffee or something for your help."
Well that certainly made things easy but it left a bitter taste on the back of his tongue. He hadn't wanted it to be an obligation. "You don't have to-"
"I want to," the stranger cut through. Did the stranger say that out of a true desire to or to throw his own words back at him? "If you don't like coffee, I could buy you lunch. Please. I'll feel bad if you walk away after I've imposed on you."
He waved his hand as if to brush the statement away, the bag of marbles still in his grip swinging back and forth. "I don't want payment."
"But-"
"But I was on my way to lunch," he continued, not giving the other a chance to get started again. "If you truly want to pay me back in some way, then join me. I've had a crappy last few days and pleasant company is rare to come by."
Not that it mattered and he certainly didn't know the stranger well enough to know if they really were pleasant company but the grin that broke out on the other's face was worth it.
He would deny later that it had swayed his hand when the other had beat him to the check when it was brought.
"I was serious when I said you didn't have to pay for lunch, Liam," he urged halfheartedly, hand still hanging in the air between them.
The other gave him a playful grin, the tip of the other's tongue caught between their front teeth. It was a ridiculous expression but after everything, he found it fit rather well on the other.
"You say that but I don't see you reaching across the table for the check," the other - Liam, he reminded himself - teased. "Besides, after the week you've had, I think I have every right to treat you to lunch. So let me treat you to lunch."
He sagged back into the diner's booth, giving up the last of his stubborn hold. "Fine. But I'm paying next time. It's only fair."
He registered his own words at the same time Liam did. Liam's gaze came up from the milkshake he had been stirring with a gleam of excitement in those depthless blue eyes. "Next time?"
He looked away and hoped the sensation of his cheeks burning was just his imagination. "No. Forget I said anything."
He could practically feel the excitement rolling off of the other and he wasn't sure he wanted to verify if there was hope there as well. "What if I want a next time?"
He inwardly flinched at that thought. He had no intention of letting this become a....a thing but it seemed like the world was against him just making this an information run.
He would have to work against this soft part of himself if he wanted to change the world for the better.
"And if I don't?"
The other shrugged, going back to his milkshake. "Then don't show up and I'll leave you alone." Liam stuck his hand out, grinning. "Give me your phone."
"Why?" he asked, hesitation and distrust heavy in that single word even as he fished it out of his pocket.
"This way you can't use the excuse of losing my number," Liam told him, sounding proud of himself. He felt the other was entitled to that pride because he had been sourly tempted on feigning losing it as he tossed it into the nearest trash bin. "You'd have to manually delete it."
He unlocked it and tapped the phone icon, not sure if he was content with going through with this or not. A sort of numbness had settled over him in lieu of his indecisive emotional decision even as his injury dully throbbed. He had waited too long to take his meds but as he watched Liam input his contact info, he figured it had been worth it.
"Classic spelling of Roderick, right?" Liam asked, passing his phone back even as the other fished for his in turn. A muffled chiming emanated from the same pocket Liam was rooting through as he took his phone back, nodding.
"C-r-e-e-d," he added as an afterthought, watching Liam punch in his first name and start on his last.
"Awesome. I've got to get these supplies to the daycare so I'll text you later." Liam quickly pulled the now bagged supplies towards him from the far side of the bench as he pocketed his phone. "We can coordinate our next lunch then, yeah?"
He nodded. "Sure."
Liam beamed before rushing out the door. Roderick looked down at his phone, the screen still open to the new contact page. 'Liam Grace' glared up at him as if to mock him. He couldn't help but feel like he was getting in too deep for something so menial but the lunch had been rather pleasant and he was looking forward to seeing Liam again. He had not been wrong when he had said pleasant company wasn't a bad thing after the last few days.
A part of him hoped his suspicion was wrong.
It was a month later when he confirmed that Liam was his 'hero' and, looking back, he found that he had missed the subtle hints that had told him he had been right since their first meeting; the tail end of glances towards his side with an expression he could now decipher having all the information, the eagerness to keep in contact, the constant barrage of attention. All of it was to sooth some part of Liam's hero persona just checking in on him. He expected Liam to vanish from his life after he had fully healed but the other stuck around and wormed his way into Roderick's life so thoroughly, five years vanished before his very eyes and he came home to find Liam standing in the middle of his living room grinning from ear to ear, flowers and balloons artistically scattered everywhere and a bouquet in hand. The boyish grin on the other's face had a smile tugging at his own lips as he tugged his shoes off.
"What's all this?" he asked, already having an inkling. Liam had been far too giddy the last few days and it hadn't been hard to figure it had something to do with the day.
"Happy Five Years since we met," Liam happily chirped, offering him the bouquet.
As much as he wasn't a flower person, at least Liam had gotten him ones he didn't overly mind having around every now and again. He took the proffered gift, tapping at the balloon on a stick that proclaimed 'Happy Anniversary' in bubbly letters. He chuckled. "I've told you we don't have to celebrate today."
It always brings back the memories of why we're together.
Liam's grin only got bigger. "I know, but I want to. Here." The other dug through the blankets on the couch before offering the gift to him. He rolled his eyes and set the bouquet on the coffee table before taking the gift. He frowned at the weight. It was heavier than he had expected. "What is it?" he asked even as he tore at the paper.
"You'll see."
The wrapping paper fell away and he turned the object over in his hands. The box was rather plain and told him nothing of what was trapped within the black confines. He tucked it into his elbow to pull the lid off.
Ice raced through him at the possible implications of the object nestled in a cloud of white tissue paper.
"I've been looking for it for a while now. It's the right one, right?"
The object was a rather unbecoming book but he knew the contents inside were more than the cover let on. He reached in, a stray thought wondering where the lid had gone.
The book was the majority of the weight, the box slipping from his arm as he stopped registering its soft weight. With shaking hands, he carefully opened the worn book and watched as it fell open to some page off center. The passages that glared up at him from the thin pages made it hard for him to breathe. "Where did you find this?" he asked, his voice coming out raspy and breathless.
"Some little back shop. It had been in the window." Liam's words were nonchalant but there was an undercurrent of concern. He couldn't bring himself out of his shock and growing fear that Liam knew. "Is it the right one?"
The repeated question finally registered in his brain and he flipped to the front of the book. It was easy finding the page he knew would only exist in the edition he had been looking for. Sure enough, the page stared up at him in words he never believed he would ever read again in his life. "Yeah," he choked out.
He had been looking for this book long before the hero incident all those years ago and now that it was in his hands, he wasn't sure if it was real. Liam's arms snaked around him, though, and those were real. He closed the book as it got pinned between them and he grabbed at the back of Liam's shirt with his free hand, his other pinned with the book between their chests. His entire body was shaking and he wasn't sure if it was relief, glee, or dread causing it.
That book turned out to be a curse rather than the gift it had been intended for. He had utilized the contents well, using them to strengthen his abilities and reach higher ranks in among the villains' organization as heroes started paying attention to him. He met every hero - and villain - that came at him head on despite avoiding physical confrontations with any of them. That is, all except for the hero named Echo.
Liam's hero persona, Echo, became a formidable opponent against the other villains as the years passed and he gained experience. Roderick made sure that he never crossed Echo's path as a villain. He was certain the other would see right through him before the fight even began.
But sometimes things don't go as planned and he found himself slumped against the wall of some alleyway staring at Liam's front door. The other was home. He could see movement behind the closed blinds despite the rain trying to drown him. He was tempted to find some hovel and lick his wounds but he needed immediate attention and he couldn't go home. He couldn't even get out of his villain attire without help and despite all the friends he had made over the years, it was Liam he wanted to go to, Liam he was drawn to, Liam who he trusted. But he didn't want to break this to Liam, not like this. Never like this.
He didn't remember sliding down the brick wall to sink onto his knees in the growing puddle at his feet.
He didn't know Liam had seen him till the other's hands were on him, shaking in a way he didn't know they could as his lover's voice quaked around him.
Pain flared from the most fatal of the wounds and it broke whatever had kept Liam's words at bay.
"-ay something!"
"Liam," he croaked, choking on the word and coughing. The sound was wet and painful. He wondered if it was a punctured lung or simply accumulation from everything else.
"Rodey," Liam all but sobbed.
He hissed when the other tried to move him.
"I have to get you inside," Liam spoke, his voice flat and taking on the cadences that were more common for Echo than Liam. "I can't-you'll bleed out if I don't get you inside."
"Don't-" he tried but Liam was already slipping his arms around Roderick and hefting him up into his arms. He gave a strangled cry and Liam's arms convulsed around him.
The next thing he knew, he was waking up in a foreign room too sterile to be any part of Liam's house and too fancy to be any normal hospital.
The lack of equipment and pain told him enough.
He shoved at his blankets, a sneer on his face as he moved. His body was sore, echoes of what he had gone through coursing through him in time with his pulse.
Whatever they had put him in, he hated. It felt wrong, it felt too sterile, and he nearly sighed in relief when he saw a change of clothes sitting on a chair. He grabbed at it and immediately recognized the different fabrics. One outfit was some clothes he had left at Liam's; the other was his villain costume. Curiosity got the better of him and he unfolded the pieces, finding that it had been repaired - or replaced, there wasn't even any marks where he had been hit. It made his stomach churn at the thought of how many knew.
He was pulling his shirt on when someone cleared their throat. As soon as his head was free from his shirt, he glared at the intruder, grateful he had put his pants on first. "You must be the Director," he stated coldly.
The woman looked rather plain and harmless but he knew that was all a lie. She was the head of the hero organization and that meant she could outmaneuver him verbally without breaking a sweat. She was the world's greatest tactician and he was nothing more than a pawn to her.
"And you're Silence, Echo's counterpart," she spoke, her words crisp but her voice soft. It was unusual to hear but, then, he was from a big city. "Or, at least when you're wearing that villain mask of yours."
He didn't care to glance at the pile of fabric haphazardly draped about the chair, regardless if she gestured at it. Silence settled over them but he wasn't about to break it first. He had long since gotten good at waiting people out and he was always ready to have at a battle of wits on that front. She didn't let them stand in that silence long and it proved to be in his favor he hadn't spoken up.
"Liam speaks highly of you, despite your alignment."
He shrugged. "Liam likes everyone."
"A bluff." She wasn't wrong, but neither was he. "He cares about the masses. He hates quite a number of people."
"And I'm pretty sure I'm on that shit list now." He crossed his arms over his chest, trying and failing to calm the apprehension rising like bile in his throat. "What of it?"
Silence stretched between them. He itched to snap at her, to tell her to just up and tell him already, but he was stubborn and had already proven he was willing to wait her out.
She eventually ceded when it seemed she had settled on her thoughts. "He was in a panic when he brought you to us, begging us to keep this hidden and to heal you. He didn't care you were a villain. But we did."
He raised an eyebrow at her, taunting, "What? Are you going to throw me in prison now? Last I checked, there's no body count for you to pin on me, no evidence to keep me there."
"Why is there no body count, Roderick?" He flinched, hating his name on her tongue. "Out of all the villains we've ever dealt with, you are the only one that meets heroes head to head and go out of your way to keep that hero in check. You use your words to distract and disarm heroes when there are civilians around. When they come at you physically, you keep a step ahead of them, keeping them from any bystanders and doing your best to keep collateral damage down to a minimum. Even your own men swoop in, corralling people out of the way, going through and doing patches where they can during the fight, offering aid where they can to help your efforts. Why is that?"
He scoffed. "I would be surprised if you hadn't already had a theory."
"Then I am not wrong to assume it has to do with the unfortunate event that had you meeting Echo in the first place?"
"That might have something to do with it."
"Then why that book?"
His expression split into a feral grin, the humor there dark and as sharp as the look he sent her. "I dare you to guess."
"It enhances your abilities."
He laughed at that, but it was more of a bark and just as sharp as his grin. "Try again."
"It controls your abilities."
"It controls others' abilities, too, you know," he offered nonchalant as he gathered his belongings. "It's easy to recruit people when you can guarantee that they never have to suffer the sting of causing others harm."
He wasn't sure why she had let him walk out.
He tried looking for Liam, tried to see if he was going to be the one to take him home, but no matter who he asked, they all said he had left already. He found the Director waiting at the front doors by the time he managed to admit defeat.
Betrayal burned through him as he stalked by.
The setting sun was sharp against the glass of the transport but he couldn't feel its heat against his skin. The window was too thick, too tinted against the rays for him to be able to. He looked away.
Over and over his options rolled around his mind. Yes it hurt that Liam hadn't been there, that the other had left without him, but he shoved it away in the face of more pressing matters and every solution that came to mind was worse than the last.
It wasn't till he was almost home in the back of some organization car that he brought up his texts with Liam. He was shaking but his fingers were steady against the screen. He wrote, rewrote, deleted all of it changing his mind, and started again when he changed it back to the point that when he found himself on his doorstep, he had yet to send Liam any correspondence. But he had one ready. All he had to do was press send.
He read it once more. He knew this made him the largest coward but he didn't have any other choice that didn't result in them both dying. At least this way Liam would have a chance.
He pressed send and turned the screen off.
He slipped his key into the lock and turned it. It gave easily, the lock sliding back with a solid clicking thud. The door opened into the dark entryway. There was a light on in the living room, one of the lamps if he gauged the lighting right, and thought nothing of it till a painfully familiar, ungodly cheerful chirruping rang from the living room.
"Seriously?" he asked, giving Liam a skeptical look.
The other grinned at him. "What? I like it. Think it fits."
His look flattened. "That fits me?"
"Oh yeah," Liam assured him. He wasn't sure if there was sarcasm in Liam's words or not. "Fits your sunny disposition perfectly."
"Change it."
Liam grinned at him. "No."
"I'm breaking your phone."
"Only if you get your hands on it."
He closed his eyes against the inevitable as he closed the door and stepped away. Echoes of the past haunted his every step.
"'Liam,'" echoed about as he stepped into the living room. He found Liam sitting on the couch, phone in hand and reading out loud with an unreadable expression. "'I'm sorry. I have to leave, to put distance between us. Don't follow. There's nothing you can do to change this. I hope you find someone else soon.'"
The silence that followed was oppressive.
He wondered if his control was slipping, if they were both slipping, but the thing that had his tongue lead in his mouth was how that had sounded out loud. He shouldn't have sent it.
"So that's it?" Liam challenged. His voice was uncharacteristically lacking. "You were just going to break up with me? Over text?"
"Liam," he tried, but whatever else he was going to say caught in his throat.
It didn't matter. Liam didn't even give him a chance to try as the other stood up to be face to face with him. "I go out of my way to get you the best help I could get to save your life, put both of us in jeopardy for the risks I took doing so while assuring your secret wouldn't get out, and before I even get told they let you go, let alone that you were heading home, I get this?" He gestured with his phone. "Is this how you see us? See me? Like I'm something to just ditch when times get tough? What about the last three years? The last five?!"
Anger flared in him and for the first time since they met, the rage that had always been burning inside him towards every hero except for Liam's persona was suddenly turned on Liam. "I'm not ditching you because it's convenient," he snarled and Liam jerked back at that, retaliating, "I never said-" but he didn't let Liam finish that thought. "I'm trying to save us both!"
"By leaving me behind?!"
"What else do you want me to do?!" he bellowed. "If you come with me, it will put us in more jeopardy than the risk you took saving my life! We will never have a quiet life and you can't tell me that these last five years were! Not when you left me behind too many times to count every time you went up against some villain out of your league!"
He sucked in air like he was suffocating but the words wouldn't stop. He couldn't make them stop. "I tracked every fight you had and intervened as best I could. It certainly grew easier the higher up I got but it still hurt every time I saw just how much damage you took doing some stupid stunt!"
"So you've known? All this time and you never confronted me about Echo?!"
"How was I supposed to approach you about that?!" He snarled, "You would veto any conversation dealing with heroes and I figured it was a guise; pretend to not like heroes as part of your cover story, makes it easier for people to not suspect you."
"When did you figure it out."
The demand was sharp, quiet, and ice cold. He sucked in a breath against it, the act curling his lip as he stared Liam down. "I suspected the day our shoulders hit. I was certain a month later."
A breathy laugh left Liam. The other took a step back as his weight shifted, head falling back as his eyes went to the ceiling. "So you’ve known from day one and yet you never thought to let me in on yours?"
Liam's blue eyes were on him again, ever fathomless but closed off to him. He couldn't help but feel like he deserved so much more hate from the other than just this; he was going to deserve so much more than this. "Yes," he confirmed, his voice soft but filling the room anyways.
Liam jerked back at that, shaking his head. "Of course you did." He gave a bark of a laugh that sounded hollow to Roderick. "Of course you did! Why would you tell me anything?!"
"Liam," he tried to counter but the other rounded on him.
"Were you ever going to tell me? Were you waiting till after we got married or something or was I going to find out when you finally got killed or arrested?"
The words were on his tongue in an instant and it was easy to spit out the lie despite knowing it was going to ruin everything. There was no coming back from this. It at least guaranteed Liam's safety at minimum.
"I never intended to marry you."
The rage vanished from Liam's face right along with the color and it was all he could do to keep going, to keep up the charade as it killed him in the process.
"I simply humored the speculation to keep you unaware."
Pain flared in his right temple as his vision went white from the well deserved punch. He could hear Liam's erratic breathing over the pounding of his own pulse in his ears.
"I hope they catch you," Liam spat, voice quaking with emotion. "I hope that you suffer when they do."
There was no clarification on who that 'they' was and it didn't really matter because he agreed with him. The front door slammed shut with so much force, the windows rattled from it.
He found himself sinking to the floor as he tried to swallow the sorrow choking him.
He lasted long enough for Liam to be well out of earshot before the first sob broke free.
It was followed by so many more.
An hour later found him puffy eyed and hoarse but packed and locking his front door for the last time. He had things to do, places to be, people to hide and to hide from. He didn't have the luxury of curling up under the covers and never coming out again.
The only personal affect he kept was a picture that Liam had taken. There were no people in it; only a close-up of an old tree's trunk where a new sprout was blooming. It reminded him of what he had given up and why he was doing any of this.
His villain persona Silence vanished from the villain scene and he replaced it with Dead Air. Dead Air was ruthless in filling in the gap Silence had left in the elite. Only a few people speculated that Silence and Dead Air were the same villain. Dead Air wouldn't harm civilians either but many just figured Dead Air had worked for Silence. Dead Air was far too ruthless towards those that went up against him to be the same quiet, reserved villain Silence had been.
Dead Air also went toe to toe with heroes, dishing out more damage than he took in any physical fight. People used that to shoot down any theories of Silence and Dead Air being one and the same.
He didn't even flinch when Echo turned up during one of his fights with other heroes four years after their nasty breakup. He let himself be Dead Air and had at Echo like he would any other hero. Afterwards he would be pleased at discovering that Echo had learned over the years and had gotten better.
He should have suspected that wouldn't be the last time he would see the hero.
For whatever reason, Echo was suddenly up against Dead Air constantly and for the last year, Roderick had to put up with seeing the other. It was easy to find when and why Liam had moved to Roderick's new stomping grounds. It had been even easier to make sure he lived as far away from that particular area so that there was no chance that Liam would ever run into him in public.
But that didn't mean he wasn't findable.
"Dead Air!"
His head snapped up seeking out the subordinate that had called out to him. Despite the smaller numbers compared to what Silence had as a following, he still found himself amazed at how many had followed him as he changed to Dead Air. That little book he had yet to touch since becoming Dead Air had given him one last tool he had used to make sure everyone that had followed him when he was Silence were unable to even remember they had. He made sure all of them were well off, though, but still many were adamant about staying at his side even when he changed to Dead Air and rid them of all memories of Silence.
He still remembered every name.
"What is it, Thirteen?" he gently ordered.
"You've got to come see this."
Frowning, he left the table full of building schematics, charts of varying types, and those he was consoling with for the next big project. He followed Thirteen through the halls to the entrance.
He involuntarily sucked air in through clenched teeth as both parts surprise and concern slammed into him.
Echo was huddled in the tiny entryway with Two and Twenty-six. The two subordinates weren't touching the hero but they had placed themselves between the hero and the exit in a way that spoke of keeping something out rather than keeping the hero in. He realized that Echo wasn't just huddled in on himself; the other was shivering, bleeding, and most importantly, scared. There was a dazed look in those too wide blue eyes barely obscured by the hero's mask. Roderick knew that look and anger flared through him at the thought of anyone drugging heroes, let alone Echo.
Clearly already uneasy on his feet - and probably close to passing out if Roderick was reading everything right - he nearly toppled himself over when his head snapped up as Roderick approached.
He watched as the clearly jumpy hero moved away from Two when the subordinate reached out to steady him. It only made his concern grow sharper.
Something wasn't right.
He closed the space between them and didn't give Echo a chance to avoid his touch as he grabbed the other's upper arms where he hoped there weren't hidden injuries. Echo whimpered, words rolling over themselves in a choked whisper as Roderick watched the other start to quickly lose the fight against passing out. "Didn't...didn't know where else to go."
He saw the moment Echo lost the fight. It was all he could do to keep from worsening the other's injuries as Echo collapsed. He carefully shifted his hold getting Echo's limp form to slump against his chest so that he could get under the other enough to pick him up.
He gritted his teeth against seeing signs of possible torture, his blood boiling.
"Call Nine. If she can't come in, call Seven. I want them here as soon as possible. Arrange transport if you need to."
"Yes, sir!" echoed around him as he turned and stormed towards the medical rooms. There weren't many in the base - only three, really, but one was set up for emergency surgeries, one for examinations and minor injuries, and the largest one reminiscent of an emergency room for those bedridden to wait till they could be transported to a proper hospital.
He took Echo to the examination room. Someone had called ahead of him because Six was there pulling the paper across the examination table. They helped him lay Echo down as carefully as the pair of them could manage.
Thirteen reappeared, breathless. "Seven is two minutes out, Nine twenty. They both directed that unless the patient is bleeding out, not to do anything till they get here."
"Inform them I moved the patient from the entrance to the examination room," he ordered, his tone restrained.
Thirteen brought their hand up to the earpiece only to pause before the motion could be completed. They met his gaze again. "As long as you don't do any more damage, that should be fine. Seven's words. Nine echoed his sentiments, though more politely."
Thirteen flinched, hand actually clasping the earpiece. He chuckled, lips curling in amusement as he heard the echoes of Seven's voice in the hall. "Seven, don't make Thirteen deaf. I happen to like having subordinates that can hear," he chastised with very little heat as he stepped around Thirteen into the hall.
"Will all due respects, sir," came a snarky comment from around a nearby corner, Thirteen echoing the words till he too noticed that Seven had arrived. Said subordinate stepped around the corner and gave him a hard look, "if you want me to not deafen any of the others, remind them to keep their snarky comments to themselves."
He chuckled again. "I'll keep that in mind." His expression sobered. "Not a word to anyone what transpires from here on out. No identities, no events, nothing."
Seven gave a brisk nod. "Of course, sir. Anyone that is privy to the information?"
"Thirteen, Two, Six, and Twenty-six, Nine as well once she arrives. You have my permission to pull in what hands you need but make sure they understand the severity of the situation. Do not bring in people you cannot trust to keep their mouth shut."
Seven gave a half bow, uttering, "Of course, sir," before slipping into the room and closing the door.
He turned to Thirteen. "Gather Two, Twenty-six, Eleven, and Four and meet me in 206."
"Eleven and Four, sir?"
"I passed them in the hallway. I want them to be there for the same conversation. Hopefully it'll be before either of them had a chance to talk to others."
Thirteen nodded and took off down the hallway.
An hour passed in a blur. It took a whole fifteen minutes to make sure that word of Echo's arrival didn't spread beyond the initial subordinates. It had but only by one degree so he counted that as luck. After that, he sent the entire place from languid existence to a vibrating hive of activity. Subordinates were called in and there was a constant stream of new arrivals to the situation. Some weren't even brought in. Instead, they were immediately sent on missions - most of them recon. As much as he felt no right to seek revenge against whoever had harmed Liam, he couldn't help the burning rage towards anyone stupid enough to do that where he would find it.
He had killed for far less.
"Dead Air, sir." He brought his head up, looking at Six as she came to a stop at his side. "Seven wishes to speak with you."
"I'll be there in a moment," he informed her.
"He said it couldn't wait."
He frowned, bringing his head up to look at Six. She looked stressed, hands clasped together so tightly, they were almost white from the force of it. "Ok. Give me one minute."
It was easy passing command on to Thirteen and Thirty-six for his brief absence. The pair took it in stride as he turned and followed Six's quick pace towards the medical rooms.
He frowned when he saw the stream of bodies coming in and out of the room prepped for surgeries. Seven was standing in the middle of the hallway waiting for them.
"How bad is he?" left his lips as soon as he was close enough to Seven before he could even try and stall them.
"He needs a proper hospital," Seven berated, though there was an edge to the words that he recognized, "but transferring him now would be dangerous."
He gestured to the examination room they were standing in front of. Seven reached the door as he clarified, "So pretty bad, then."
Six remained outside, her back towards the door as Seven closed it. He didn't have enough thought to expend on extrapolating why she was standing guard.
"Sir," Seven inquired, still standing at the closed door, handle clenched in his hand. Seven's gaze finally looked at him. "How did he get here?"
He shook his head. "Walked, I presume. Two and Twenty-six said that the area beyond the entrance was empty when he had frantically pounded at the door."
Seven let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his graying hair. "That man should not have been able to move, let alone conscious. The amount of damage done to his body-"
Seven cut himself off but Roderick found he couldn't let the man leave it at that.
"How bad, Seven," he ordered, voice as controlled as he could manage.
Seven squared himself off again and Roderick mentally applauded the man's ability to regroup mentally so quickly. "Numerous minor breaks, several severe breaks, two of which in the leg and pelvis. He should not have been able to walk even the shortest of distances. Not only that, but multiple punctures and gashes that will require extensive sterilization and stitches, torn ligaments that will need resting and at least one joint to realign." Seven's expression tightened. "Sir, I have to ask: how close were you to him?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
Seven's expression didn't change. "Because what I'm about to say may not be handled with the utmost care."
"I'll be fine. What is it?"
A pause, one that made his chest ache with fear, and anger flare as his impatience grew.
"There are numerous signs of rape, and not just by one person."
There wasn't air to breath in when all of it left his lungs. His vision blurred as he tried to get his brain to form coherent sentences his lips could form and speak, but it didn't happen. It was a miracle he even found the chair.
"Sir?"
He didn't know how much time had passed but it seemed to be enough to warrant Seven's concerned expression to be far too close for his current liking. He sat up straighter even as he choked on his next words. "Please tell me they were stupid enough to leave DNA behind."
The savage grin that stretched Seven's face was a balm to his emotional turmoil.
"It has already been sent for processing," Seven informed him. "If their DNA is in any system, we'll find it."
"Good."
Seven's vicious energy died down. "Sir, I have one other question."
He waved Seven's trepidation away, reminding the other, "You're welcome to as many as you need. If they help him, I don't care what they are."
"Why didn't you take him to the hero organization?"
He met Seven's gaze, studied the man's curious albeit confused expression. "If he came here," he spoke slowly, uttering a thought he had been dwelling on since Echo's arrival, "then that means that the hero organization was no longer safe for him to go to. I will not risk his life more than I already have by sending him somewhere he may get better care but put in far more danger."
Seven nodded. "You believe the hero organization has corruption in it."
"I know it does," he countered sharply. "Saw it with my own eyes years ago. Even heroes can be homophobic assholes."
"So you two were that close, then."
He glared at Seven who was conveniently not looking at him. "What does that mean?"
Seven glanced at him, an eyebrow raised. "Nothing offensive, I assure you. My own partner would murder me in broad daylight if they heard I spoke ill of another in the community and they are no villain. Simply put, I can prepare for you to be a bit more agitated when it comes to his well being. I will do my best to make sure you receive updates as regularly as possible."
He shook his head, surprised at the relief that had tempered some of his unease about all of this. He really shouldn't have been surprised at how nonchalant Seven was about all this. "Don't interrupt your work for me. I will be busy enough as it is that I don't need regular updates. Just inform me when you're done and give me a prognosis then."
"Of course, sir. Anything else?"
He stood, squaring himself. "Take good care of him, Seven. I'm counting on your team to keep him alive."
"Always, sir."
He hadn't been lying when he said he would be busy. At first he watched the minutes tick by but Thirteen and Thirty-six drew him back into the work and suddenly his attention was pulled away from the stacks of papers he had been reading, finding the room void of all but his visitor with only the few lights he needed to be able to read.
"Six," he spoke, the word coming off a tad harsh. Exhaustion pulled at him now that he was no longer distracted. "I thought I had dismissed all day subordinates."
"You did," she assured him. "I and a number of others stayed to continue helping Seven and Nine." She shifted her weight. "We're done. Seven and Nine wanted to give you an update before they went home. They've already given the night shift their directions, not that many of them needed them beyond the standard's basics."
The files were abandoned.
Hours passed in the blink of an eye. He had crashed some point after seeing Seven and Nine off, as well as a number of those that had aided them. When he had awoken, it was to sharp sunlight through the barely covered window and to the sounds of a bustling hallway.
Thirteen and Thirty-six had made sure his absence wasn't even noticed so he let them keep at it, taking the opportunity to check in on Echo like he had wanted to the night before but had refrained from doing.
The largest medical room was void of humans. The beds were all clean and prepped, ready to go at a moment's notice. All the dividing curtains were tied back till they were needed, leaving the room feeling open and far larger than it really was. At the back was the nurses' desk situated in the middle of the horseshoe shape of the more private rooms. The rooms on either side of the corral of a desk were nothing more than indents in the wall large enough to house a gurney, a small counter with a sink, and the minimal equipment needed. These were all dark and each curtain that would have made up the fourth wall and 'door' was pushed open. On the back wall were only a few actual doors that led into similar rooms. He went to the one on the farthest left and opened it, finding a room well lit by sunlight with a sleeping occupant.
It was rather quiet beyond that door.
The door clicked softly behind him as he stared at Echo's face. No, Liam's. The hero mask was nowhere to be seen and the costume had long since been traded for a hospital gown. It was all he could do to move away from the door.
He didn't know how long he stood there watching the rise and fall of Liam's chest knowing that if things had gone differently, their surroundings would be completely different and that chest wouldn't be moving.
Something broke his thoughts and he finally looked away. It was easy logging into the computer and pulling up Liam's medical files. He started skimming through the information, taking in the x-rays and ct scans and every other note he could find. The raw medical documents seemed so much more absolute than any report he received from a subordinate.
He frowned as he stumbled over some of the language.
"Didn't know you knew medicine."
He looked over to find Liam's fathomless blue eyes barely open and a bit glazed from the powerful painkillers Seven had him on. But they were still as kind and mischievously joyful as they had been before he had gone and destroyed their relationship in the cruelest way he could imagine. It seemed wrong that he was being looked at that way again. "Enough to be of use till more skilled hands can step in."
Liam hummed and Roderick focused back on the screen, assuming that was the end of that.
Oh, how wrong he was.
"I went looking for you, you know."
He froze mid scroll, those few words halting every thought process he had. He forced a scoff, mentally shoving the shock away. "I'm not overly difficult to find. Case in point: you're currently in my base."
"Rodey. I know it's you."
He feigned ignorance even as he clenched his jaw and tried to swallow against the tightness in his throat. "I will have to speak with Seven. It would seem you hit your head far harder than we thought."
"Roderick."
He glanced over. He hadn't meant to and had no intentions of giving in, of admitting defeat, but Liam's voice was coaxing, tired, and still spoke his name as if it was the most precious thing to him.
"You should have stayed away," he croaked, unable to fake it anymore.
Liam shook his head as best he could while injured. "I couldn't have even if I wanted to." Those blue eyes met his again. "When I finally registered the words I had spoken out of spite and betrayal - when what you were doing finally clicked in my slow brain - you had already vanished off the face of the planet. You left no trace of where you had gone and I burned through every lead I could scrounge up. No matter where we were heading, after everything had settled, I hadn't wanted to say goodbye like that."
"I didn't give you a choice," he consoled, but Liam had none of it.
"It doesn't matter. I wasn't about to let what we had go down in a fiery wreck. Or, at least, I was going to try." Liam gave a soft smile. It looked tired. "When word got to me of this new villain cutting through the ranks, I had thought nothing of it till I heard the name." That soft smile broke out into as full of a grin as the other could manage. "Dead Air? Really?"
He shrugged, defensive but too exhausted to do anything with it. "I hadn't intended to choose it. It was the only one that stuck."
Liam chuckled. "I had heard the speculations of you being Silence just renamed but it wasn't sticking. Most of those that wanted it to stick couldn't find an angle where it did but I knew the moment I saw the first video feed. Your costume and tactics may have changed, but the way you hold yourself and the way your people follow you is still the same." Liam shifted as if settling more into the bed. Roderick found himself taking a step from the computer but he stomped on the impulse to close the distance and help. "But I knew if you were trying to start over, then there was no need for me to complicate things."
"But you did anyways."
Liam hummed in agreement. "I had managed to keep to our original stomping grounds, though the area where they kept sending me was expanding. I spent six months travelling through Europe because of some villain hunt going on over there that I had been sent to assist that didn't even need me." A soft laugh escaped him. "It was nice over there but I kept bugging the Director to come back and she was adamant about me staying to assist. The head of the European branch of the organization kept telling me they really didn't need my help and to either use it as a vacation or make it back on my own."
A pang of...well, he wasn't sure if it was jealousy, regret, or exhausted sympathy he was feeling but whatever it was weighed down heavily on him as he coaxed, "Did you enjoy it?"
Liam hummed again. "Not as much as I could have. I kept thinking about you everywhere I went. I have so many places I want to take you when we manage to get out of here for a real vacation."
"Liam." As touched as he was at the thought to include him, he couldn't ignore reality. "We can't get back together."
The other deflated but it was minute and the only reason he had seen it was because he had been expecting it. Liam still offered him a smile. "I know. Wishful thinking is all."
He was surprised to find himself at Liam's side but didn't bother to figure out when he had gotten there as he pressed one hand into the mattress to keep himself upright as he brought them to eye level. "Then why are you here? Here in my base, in my stomping grounds?"
Liam shrugged. "I don't know. I keep asking the Director if I'm ever going back home but it's been a year and she keeps giving me non answers followed by assignments. I've been running with rookies and vets so I'm not even sure why I'm here beyond to help." He made a face, continuing, "A few of the heroes and villains haven't taken to kindly to me being here, though."
Roderick chuckled. "I've noticed," he stated, gesturing at Liam with his free hand and Liam chuckled, a strained smile pulling at that injured face. Without his bidding, he was cupping Liam's cheek as carefully as he could, the mattress sinking under his weight as he sat on the edge. "Oh, Liam. What did you get yourself into this time?"
Liam pressed his face into Roderick's soft touch, every facade the hero was trying to keep in place shattering with those words. The sob that racked through the injured body made it convulse but the floodgates were open and Liam didn't stop. Roderick - unable to forget about the injuries the other had - wrapped his arms around the other and held him close. He felt Liam's arms wrap around him, holding on as tight as the other could manage as what fingers weren't splint or in a cast gripped at the back of his shirt.
He stayed there for hours even after LIam had fallen asleep. His mind was reeling from not just the beginning of their conversation but everything they had talked about, everything Liam had hiccuped between sobs, everything he had said between his own tears and rage - none of which was directed at Liam. They had talked about everything, about that day, about what had happened since, and what would happen from that point on. And as much as Roderick would have loved to have sent Liam home, he had a feeling a certain head of the hero organization wouldn't allow it. So, he did the only thing he knew he could do.
There was a soft knock on the door and Thirteen entered. He stayed seated in the chair at Liam's side as the subordinate hovered inside the closed door. "You called, sir?"
Roderick stood slowly. "Gather all the subordinates." He locked eyes with the younger. "We have one last job to do."
Determination settled over Thirteen's expression as the other nodded. With a quick turn, they left without another word.
"Rodey?"
He looked down at Liam, finding those sleep heavy eyes on him once more. "What's going on?"
He reached out, carding his hand through Liam's hair, mindful of the stitches hidden beneath. "Nothing you need to worry about right now. Go back to sleep."
Liam shifted his head, pressing a set of stitches against his palm with enough force that it probably hurt but Liam gave no sign that it did. "Please don't be doing something stupid."
Despite every part of him telling him it was a horrible idea to do this all over again, he pressed his lips against LIam's, soothing only a minute part of the hero's worry. But Liam was kissing him back and Roderick found it hard to pull away enough to say the words he wanted to say. A whine escaped Liam at the lost contact but Roderick pressed their foreheads together, assuring him, "I will be careful but it is time I stopped hiding. I won't be their prey any more and neither will you."
Liam blinked up at him, gaze searching. A sort of desperation coursed through him and he captured the other's lips again, though it was brief. "There's a theatre show coming to town in a few weeks. When all of this settles, would you go with me to see it?"
Liam gave him a breathy laugh, tears streaking down the other's face. They both knew that it wasn't likely either of them were making it out of this alive but they sure as hell were going to try.
"Only if you'll finally marry me."
Roderick's heart twisted in his chest. "After everything I've done, you still want to be tied to this fool."
Liam pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss, laughter still bubbling out of them. "I'm not saying you have to marry me tomorrow, but in a few years when we've worked through all the shit we've created I'm asking if you would marry me."
Roderick gave a watery chuckle. "Is that a proposal, Mr. Grace? Because I don't see you down on one knee."
Liam smacked him with the cast, surprising a laugh out of Roderick as he flinched from it, not that there was any pain from the act. "I would be if you didn't have me bedridden, you asshole."
And despite reality edging in closer, Roderick leaned in close again just to be near Liam silently praying that they made it through this. He wanted to properly propose to Liam, to give him the proposal he deserved and a wedding that would steal his breath away.
He prayed to whatever was listening to be kind to them both and let them have this joy forever.
A cynical part of him wasn't holding its breath