Identifying Snakes

"You hurt them..."

The Anti-hero didn't respond to the speaker, the Hero, whose eyes bore into the former's back.

"You hurt them." The Hero repeated firmly, no longer in shock but in disbelief.

Heaving her green duffle bag onto the rickety table, the Anti-hero unzipped it, keeping her back towards the Hero as she began rummaging through it mindlessly. The two heroes had just arrived at the Hero's apartment after a fight. It hadn't lasted long, but it started late at night, and both were exhausted. The clock on the wall read 3:52 am.

"Of course I did, that's what I do to bad guys," The Anti-hero said. "Have you never seen an action movie or read a comic book or a hero manual in the children's section of the library?"

"But you didn't need to maul them!" The Hero insisted, getting closer to her. "That person has a sprained ankle, a broken arm, and a severe concussion!" She counted them on her fingers.

The Anti-hero paused and stared over her shoulder at the young hero. She held up the three fingers pointedly.

"They were robbing a bank," the Anti-hero deadpanned. "With a hostage."

"They were robbing an ATM with a dollar-store switchblade. It was pink," the Hero added, emphasizing the last three words with a little head nod on each syllable. The Anti-hero ignored her and went back to digging into her bag.

"An enemy is an enemy. And when a hostage is involved, we can't play nice."

"You never play nice!" The Hero exasperated, slapping her hands on her thighs. "You never try to talk things out. You always punch first and ask questions later! You've punched innocents!!"

The other woman had leaned more into her bag as if trying to simultaneously block the Hero out and escape, which struck the Hero as odd since the Anti-hero could just leave. She had before in these arguments. But tonight was different. It could be due to the time of night, but both were night owls away. All the Hero knew was, she was exhausted in more ways than one. And she knew the Anti-hero was too by how she slumped over the bag she had recently become obsessed with. But the Hero's concern quickly disappeared at the Anti-hero's snarky response.

"Well maybe if I actually got help from a hero instead of a timid wanna-be social worker-"

"Oh please," The Hero interrupted, surprising herself. "You were like this before I joined you. Your reputation is why you're already on thin ice with the police, and the whole reason Sunshine was hired." She crossed her arms and huffed. "The only reason you didn't get anything worse is because of me, not despite me."

"Nooo, despite you, I got the job done," The Anti-hero growled out the side of her mouth.

"You are injuring people!" the Hero finally hissed. "We are supposed to help people who are hurt, not be the cause of it! You don't know what it's like to be on the receiving end of-"

"And there is it," The Anti-hero drawled, peeking out of her bag just to groan before returning with a vengeance, voice more muffled than before. "Ya know, I'm getting pretty sick of your bleeding heart routine."

"Oh yeah, well, maybe if you, if you had a heart, you'd understand!"

The room went silent. The Hero barely got that last sentence out, stumbling over her words, but she immediately regretted saying it. But she couldn't take it back. She couldn't look weak in front of the Anti-hero. This was the first time the Hero put her foot down. Though, she didn't like how sharp the tension felt when it was no longer one-sided.

Finally, the Anti-hero emerged from the bag. She turned slowly towards the Hero and leaned against the table. Despite all the rummaging, there was nothing in her hands. Dimly, the Hero wondered if the Anti-hero was pretending to look for something, so she could hide from the Hero. But before she could finish that thought, the Anti-hero's eyes met hers and killed it with a hard stare. If this is what she got after speaking up, she couldn't imagine what criminals saw before their teeth got knocked out.