Sprawled out on the floor of their cell, the hero is still reeling from a swift punch to the gut when the door is kicked open and all hell breaks loose. By the time they catch their breath and gather enough strength to lift their head, all of their captors are down for the count. Brows furrowed in confusion, the hero blinks away their blurry vision… only to be greeted by the sight of the villain standing before them in all of their nefarious glory.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” the villain drawls, crouching down to their level. The hero scrambles away, their bound hands shielding their bruised face in an instinctual defensive position.
The villain rolls their eyes. “Oh please, I’m not going to hurt you. You’ve already been roughened up enough for my tastes.”
The hero frowns, incredulous, and flinches when their adversary gets too close. “You’re not?”
“No, and if you don’t believe me, you can wait for someone else to come and find you like this.”
The hero lowers their arms, their tensed shoulders relaxing minutely. “You’re… rescuing me?”
The villain sniffs. “Hardly. If anything, I’m salvaging my reputation. It would ruin my image if my nemesis were bested by such amateurs. Now, don’t struggle.”
Without saying anything further, the villain scoops them up, one arm hooked under their knees and the other curled around their back. The hero gasps in surprise, the room spinning in a dizzy blur. They might have a concussion.
Near boneless in the villain’s hold, the hero looks up at them as they’re carried out of the cell. “You’re gonna let me go?”
The villain hums. “For a price.”
The hero’s eyes narrow, not liking where this is going. “You’re asking for a ransom?”
“Have to pay the bills somehow, sweetheart.” The villain smirks down at them, and the hero bristles.
Glaring fiercely, they squirm in upset, trying to break free from their hold. The villain tightens their grip, jostling them a bit, and the hero winces in pain as the movement agitates their numerous injuries. Still, they continue to glower at their unwanted savior.
The villain huffs. “Oh, don’t look so cross. The goons who kidnapped you were the ones who published the demands. I’m just claiming them as my own.”
In the hero’s opinion, the villain looks entirely too pleased with their scheme. Who would pay the ransom? The city? But the public needs the money! The hero claws at their enemy’s shirt, their fingers numb from their wrists being tied too tight with electrical cord. “You, you can’t.”
“I can. It’s not like anyone can stop me, least of all you. You’re quite helpless right now, if you haven’t realized,” the villain replies smoothly, cool eyes raking over their injured frame.
The hero pouts—unintentionally, of course. They’re just in so much pain, so weak from the countless beatings, and now innocent people are going to suffer for their ineptitude. They sniffle a bit and wipe their nose with their forearm.
The villain meets their gaze with an unreadable expression, and then, with a heavy sigh, concedes, “I can, but I might not. After all, I could be persuaded to release you, for free, as long as you make it clear to your adoring fans that I was the one who caught you. You play the part of the hapless victim so well, I’m sure they’ll believe you.”
The hero brightens a little.
The villain’s lips curl into a slow smile. “Would you like that, darling?”
The hero gives a weak nod, their eyes so heavy.
The villain’s smile turns into a smirk. “Use your words, dear. Say please.”
The hero glares for a second before remembering how utterly exhausted they are. They swallow their pride, and, in a low voice, whisper, “Please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” the villain chuckles, and the hero groans, eyes falling shut as they relax into the villain’s hold, forehead resting on their enemy’s shoulder. “Now, let’s get you to a hospital.”
