Spherica’s little heist that day had gone off without a hitch– that is, her parts had. A few pieces of the heroes’ equipment, just to give her engineer some more things to work with, and a file or two from their surveillance records, so she could ensure that the heroes didn’t actually have any leads as to where her base of operations was. Nothing too difficult to get in and get out with alone, especially when she knew the place, and when everyone present was too distracted by her associate to question the presence of someone who looked exactly like her hero sister. (Until they realized that “The Comet” was on patrol at that time, but by then she would be long gone.)
Heatwave’s little distractions were always done at the same intensity, whether he was covering for subtle reconnaissance or for a multi-stage bank robbery, and that was no different today. Luring the patrolling heroes into chasing him around, playing his games, keeping everyone at headquarters busy with updates on the fight and damage control reports. This was his specialty and nobody could deny that he was very good at it! But there was one little thing she had heard over their comms that had her worried.
Not that he was cooperating enough to tell her what it was.
“I’m fiiiiine, I’m telling you! It’s not the first time somebody’s landed a hit,” his voice came into her ear while she paced in the rendezvous point.
“But it is the first time that a hit has made your communicator go static for over twenty seconds. Just– tell me, is there blood?”
The length of his pause was not reassuring in the least.
“Nooo…” and that just about confirmed it.
“I’m getting the first aid kit.”
“Wh– hey, I said there wasn’t any!” It may just be her, but she could swear she was picking up on a pained undertone now, underneath his usual lighthearted overconfidence.
“Are you applying pressure? Keep your hand on it until you get here, how close are you? Who was it that–”
“Hey, heyyy, it’s fine, stop mother-henning, I’m almost there!”
“That is not a real word, and I will not stop demanding updates until I know you aren’t bleeding out over the city, Heatwave.” Fortunately, this mini-hideout wasn’t just stocked with one of those dollar store kits; she’d had the foresight to add actual bandages and gauze, though now she wished she’d raided some of the hero headquarters’ quick-treatment items while she was there. “Are you feeling lightheaded at all?”
“I mean, like, only a little biiit?”
Spherica took in a steadying breath, and switched the channel she was speaking through.
“Moth.” Ignored the startled squeak from the other end that told her she’d interrupted something. (Not anything too important, since there were no following sounds of clattering or explosions.) “Are the connections secure?”
“They should be?” A short pause let her hear the sound of things being shuffled around and some light typing. “Yeah, yes, mm-hm they’re completely secure right now. Why?”
“Thanks.” Valorie switched back to the first channel. “Damien–”
“ACK–”
“–Damien if you pass out from blood loss you’re off missions for a week–”
“I’m fine Val–!”
“You don’t know if the connection is secure!”
“You said mine! And everyone knows your real name anyway! Whoa-aah okay that was, hahaa–”
“Are you passing out right now? How close are you?”
“Gimme like ten seconds I’m on the fire escape!” To corroborate his story, she could indeed hear some footsteps echoing up from outside the window. Irregular and unusually heavy footsteps for how Damien normally moved.
“I’m letting you in, do not try to climb through the window yourself or blood loss will be the least of your problems.” Gauze, bandages, things to clean the wound with, and she was just hoping there wasn’t too much in his hairline, both to keep treatment simpler and to avoid his complaining about not being able to use all his various products on an injured area. She tuned back to their general comms channel and muted, just in case anyone else developed head wounds they wanted to downplay to her.
Hewas trying to climb through the window himself, which didn’t seem to be going well, but more importantly, Valorie could see that this was not just a flesh wound. Even taking into account the fact that cuts on the head always bled more than one expected, and even with Damien’s efforts to keep pressure on it, it looked like he had lost a lot. A significant amount more than he’d been trying to let on.
“Damien you idiot I said don’t try to– Give me your arm– Not that arm keep applying pressure, the other arm, I said not to climb in by yourself! Are you sure you weren’t followed? Damien?” There were no clear signs of pursuit outside, but she took one hand off of him to shut the window and pull the curtain shut, just in case. After guiding him two steps in, she had to stop and brace them both as his weight increased, no longer holding himself up. “Damien!”
“I actually kinda feel lightheaded now that you mention it actually?” Fortunately, he was still maintaining pressure on the source, though it seemed like it was taking all of the effort he could’ve been using to keep himself upright.
“It might get worse before it gets better, I’ll have to look at it in a– not right now, put it back, wait until you’re sitting down!” Seeing him wince, she took a breath, trying to even it out and focus as she lowered him onto the old couch. (Heedless of the blood that would get on it, because it wasn’t the first time this couch had gotten stained in this manner and it wouldn’t be the last.) “Volume, I apologize. Alright, let me see it?”
“Y’know that new guy?” Damien started, keeping his head turned so she could work but reaching up to pull his mask down around his neck. It didn’t look like anything was wrong with the rest of his face, though the contrast of everything under his mask being clean made the bleeding area stand out much worse.
“Tigerblaze?” Carefully pushing hair out of the way with one hand and holding a bit of gauze in the other, she had started dabbing at the area around the wound and resisted the urge to reprimand him for snorting at the name, as the immediate wince seemed enough to indicate his regret.
“S’that really his name? Like on the real records and everything?”
“Yes, and he’s not new, he’s in from Maryland until Sunday.” Fortunately, it didn’t look like there was anything stuck in the cut that she would need to get out the tweezers for.
“Ooohhh that makes more sense, I thought he was, like, a sidekick, but then we got a little 1v1 before ‘Thena showed up and it was like, dang bro– ow– it was like daaang bro that guy hits waaay harder than I thought, yknow?”
“Mm, I know it’s hard for you, but I’m going to have to ask you to stop talking while I work on this. Your head is moving too much.” He grumbled but complied as Valorie tried to gauge whether he would need stitches for this. It was an irregular shape, not deep or dirty enough to cause severe problems, but not shallow enough to trust it to heal well on its own. Her observation that it did, in fact, extend past his hairline was not encouraging.
“Okay, I think we’re going to put something over this to stop the bleeding, then get back to main base and put in stitches.”
“It needs stitches? But it’s not that bad–! Ow ow ow quiet okay yeah,,”
Surprisingly, he managed to keep quiet for the remainder of her bandaging process. She would have to keep him away from mirrors for a while, so he couldn’t discover how poorly his hair looked after all this…
“Stay here, try to get out of your suit, carefully, and I’ll get everything else ready.” Starting with washing her hands, wondering how bad it was going to be to get all the blood out of the Heatwave getup, gathering up their civilian disguises and definitely keeping blood from touching those…
Getting hit in the head by a baseball bat wasn’t even the worst thing about that night. It hurt, and it pissed me off, but I didn’t get knocked out. It definitely rang my bell, though, so between that and the darkness, it took me a minute to catch up with what was going on, with all the shouting and thumps and flashlights waving in crazy arcs. My flashlight had rolled under a table, so I dived after it. When I shone it at the loudest noise, Hank had Ben on the ground, mostly pinned, although Ben was thrashing like a bronco. I scrambled over and tackled Ben’s legs, and Ronald jumped into the mix, so between the three of us, we got Ben into a hogtie with zip cuffs.
Ronald hurried off to find the switch for the backstage lights while we caught our breath, and Hank used his flashlight to check my skull for damage.
“I heard that hit,” he said. “Are you sure you didn’t lose consciousness?”
“Positive. I saw it coming, so I ducked just enough.”
“We’ll get you checked out at the hospital just in case. You’ve had a concussion before, and these things add up.”
“Aw, Hank…”
“Don’tAw Hank me. I know you hate it, but—”
The lights came on. I looked at him, and I don’t even remember what I said; something like “Jesus CHRIST Hank what the FUCK sit down!”
He gave me an odd look, touched the side of his head, and looked surprised when his fingers came away covered in blood.
CW: Guns, character death, just so much violence, light gore in one spot, severe injuries, some nsfw language, noncon references, betrayal! intrigue!, Nanda is a possessive creep
I need to sleep but we should hook up when I’m back. Love you.
He sends the text knowing damn well she’ll leave him on Read. Might send a reply eventually, whenever she gets around to feeling like it. That’s kind of the downside to dating someone so ridiculously out of his league – he’s at her mercy, start to finish, and that’s not exactly a bad thing, but… it definitely keeps him a little insecure.
She seems to like him that way, though. Ysabel is twenty years older than he is and loves to keep him dangling over the side of the cliff, gripping desperately onto her hands for some reassurance she won’t let him fall. He blusters and bluffs his way through things with the other guys, but… Ysabel is utterly, totally in control here.
Add being the best sniper he’s ever met to her natural, entirely earned confidence in herself and it’s easy to see why he’s terrified of pissing her off or dumping her before she’s ready to dump him.She had taken notice of him, been the one to offer him a little side-job, undermining his current employer with encrypted tech that let them track movements and listen in on conversations, set a few guys up to get caught by the law, that kind of thing.
After a while, those little jobs had become bigger ones, turning full traitor. He’d agreed to work for the Baeren Group, and that had led to him asking his two closest coworkers if they’d be interested in some money on the side. And somewhere in there, she’d pulled Joey into her bed, and told him he would stay right there until she kicked him out of it.
It’ll be soon, though, he thinks. She’s losing interest, but it has to be her interest to lose, not his. He knows that. You don’t turn down Ysabel Baeren, and you don’t walk away from her, or she’ll find a reason to make you regret it.
Hell, she’s likely to shoot him right between the eyes rather than just break up if she finds out he took his turn with the Romantic they’ve got tied down to the floor in the back. He shouldn’t have – he told himself he wouldn’t, and he told the guys he wouldn’t – but then he found himself wondering what a real, professionally-trained pet is like.
