Hero & Villain

Calen | 1333w

  "I know," I whisper back, then bite my lip to keep it from quivering. I really hope we don't fight, I don't want to fight right now.

  Shifting takes a toll on me, and I've been doing a whole lot of it for the past few days. I feel drained, mentally and physically. All I want to do now, after panicking so embarrassingly and needing Macer's help, is to sleep for a week... with Lance there to help my nightmares.

  Even if I haven't spent a lot of time with him, I still feel what I felt when I had my ears and tail. Affection I could deal with, I've always been more affectionate in that form. Longing, I could deal with that too, I know he took care of me and yes, I long for that when I'm emotionally weak.

  But he had to go and make me feel safe. I felt safe with him then, and I feel safe with him now.

  As much as I don't want to leave that behind, I have to face the fact that it could be a misplaced feeling. He's Macer, the terrorizing Villain himself. I want to think he's not truly evil, and that he didn't have bad intentions while I was with him, but I also can't help but think he could have been deceiving me the whole time.

  It's that terrible thought making me slowly release his shirt and pull away. He shifts back a bit, but tightens his grip on my hands when I try to tug them away.

  "Please just... give me a moment," he pleads. I'm surprised by the genuine note of sadness in his voice, so I let him hold my hands. "I know as soon as I let go you'll be gone," he admits, glancing up to meet my gaze. His eyes are back to their normal blue, no longer glowing with power.

  I swallow thickly, barely managing to nod in agreement. He lets out a breath and looks away from me again, down to my trapped hands.

  "Where did you go last night?" I find myself whispering as I look down at my lap.

  Lance fiddles with my fingers for a while before answering, almost like he's nervous. "You'll find out soon," he whispers back.

I look up to find him gazing at me with an unreadable expression. "You're Macer. I'm assuming you killed someone," I say, my tone defeated.

  He frowns, his brows furrowing slightly. "I know you probably hate me, but I know what I did was right. I may be a Villain, but that doesn't mean I'm evil."

  My eyes widen a little in surprise, then snap shut when Lance moves, too quickly for me to process.

  Only after I've cracked my eyes open again and he's nowhere to be seen, do I realize my face is flushed and my lips feel tingly and warm.

***

  I want to sleep, but I've been trying for an hour and it's still not working.

  After Lance disappeared and I snapped out of my shock, Amelia walked out. She just gave me a quiet hug and handed me some shoes, probably realizing I would want to stay where Lance could find me.

  I thanked her softly, put the shoes on, and left. Now my feet are sore from walking halfway across the city to check my home, a small sixth story apartment in a mildly questionable building. Just as I had been told, it was trashed. Everything strewn about and scattered.

  I grabbed some of my clothes and stuffed them in a backpack, picked up a few important pictures, my toothbrush and my carefully hidden money, then I walked a couple blocks to the nearest hotel.

  I want to check my hideout, but it was risky enough checking my home and I don't think I could make it there if I wanted to. Every muscle in my body aches from changing so frequently the last few days.

  Normally I change into Falcon when there's danger, then stay in that form until I'm ready to sleep and be normal again. Two changes a day, maximum. Not to mention I can't directly transition from one form to another, so when I changed mid flight I went from Falcon, to Normal, then to Kitty. I feel dead.

  My stomach grumbles softly, and I just curl up tighter instead of getting up to eat. I would either have to walk somewhere, which I physically can't, or call for takeout, and I really don't feel social right now.

  I weakly grab the glass of water sitting on the nightstand, taking a tiny sip before setting it back down. After another ten minutes of misery, I force myself to sit up on the bed enough to grab the remote and flip on the TV. I leave it on the first thing that pops up; the news.

  I relax back into the pillows, feeling cold but unwilling to walk across the room for another coat and risk not making it back to the bed.

  I turn the sound off and read the captions instead. They talk about boring stuff like weather and politics for a while, but I start paying more attention to it when they show a completely burnt up house. I bet I could have stopped it if I hadn't been acting so weak and stupid.

  At least, that's what I think until I start reading what the lady is saying.

  "This was no accident. Many believe it was Macer, and though his reasons remain unknown it seems likely. One woman claims to have seen him on the scene, and the untamable fire burnt the whole plot of land, stopping at the fence lines and road, then eventually burning itself out.

  "The identified victims are Mr. and Mrs. Davis, foster parents whose foster child was lucky enough to be at school during the attack. More information on..."

  My eyes leave the subtitles and instead fix on the pictures of two people. My breath hitches, and I don't breathe until the pictures have faded to black and an add for chips has come on. It was them. I sink down until I'm under the covers, then proceed to curl into a ball yet again.

  Macer found them. Macer killed them. Macer... Macer saved their new foster child.

  The revelation is like a harsh punch to my gut, and my following realization is enough to make me lurch out of bed and to the nearest trash can, where I throw up what little food I still had in me.

  I, a Hero, didn't even think to check and see what happened to those people. I didn't even bother to see if they were putting anyone else through what I had gone through.

  It took Macer, a Villain, to do what I should have done the second I left that place.

  The vile taste in my mouth from throwing up mixes with the horrible feeling of being a failure and makes me heave even though there's nothing left in me to throw up. My whole body is sore and painful and the lights seem so bright, and pretty soon I can taste salty tears in my mouth.

  It takes me longer than I want to admit to get to the bathroom, where I sluggishly strip, turn the water on, then sit trembling under the stream. I sit there, staring blankly at the tiles until the water turns cold and goosebumps spread across my skin.

  It takes me a full half hour to dry off, pull on my boxers and yes, Macer's hoodie even though I've been wearing it ever since Macer found me in the park.

  I crawl back into bed and curl into a ball, my stomach roiling and the sheet slowly dampening beneath my cheek.

  Eventually I fall into a fitful sleep filled with nightmares of burning buildings, and what might have happened to the foster child I abandoned with two demons.