Damsel[ed]: No Rescue Required

Chapter 9: Villainy is Complicated

I, Angelos Fibbs, pledge to stop screaming. Right after I finish this bout.

I dig my fingers into the scorching roof plates, my frying skin almost an afterthought. The sun sneers from its perch and I close my eyes, trying to forget the twenty-something-story drop beneath my dangling feet. 

If I were smart, I would've surrendered to Cat. Whatever she or her employer planned to do with me would've hurt a lot less than this. But I'm an idiot who devours action movies like sushi rolls, and all that 'You'll never take me alive!' stuff must've sunk in.

Colors and images whirl in front of my eyes. Drowsiness seeps into my thoughts, and even the sound of my own screams won't snap me out of it.

"You can't keep out of trouble, can you?" Purple boots land with a 'thud' on the roof. I exhale, my hands still sizzling. Again, Galaxy's timing belongs in a Michael Bay movie.

"It just seems to follow me." My voice sounds so far away. The super snags my forearms, dragging me onto the rooftop. I rub my throbbing fingers against the thread of my khakis, gasping. "I didn't choose the thug life, the—"

"No, Angelos, the thug life did not choose you." She shakes her helmeted head, hands over her mask.

 I try to laugh, but all that comes out is a half-choked sigh. A warmth crawls over my skin, and I stare up at the clouds, which flash green and yellow and—oh. Hallucinations. That can't be healthy. 

"Kid," Galaxy says as she circles me, "are you...high?"

"N-no, just..." I struggle to form words, tongue heavy, "drugged. C-Cat tried to...kidnap me."

I lose any sense of balance, limbs more useless than my iPhone post-Heaven. Galaxy catches me as I topple into her, squeezing her arms over my chest to keep me upright.

"Whoa," she grumbles. I can't help my lazy smile; her tight embrace feels so right. "Way to fall for me, kid."

How...punny. Thoughts of Gats flood my mind. Shoot! He must be pretty uncomfortable. "My f-friend. The v-villain left him...tied up in...my apartment. I n-need—"

She ignores my attempts at speech. "Should I take you to the hospital?"

I shake my head, so sleepy. "I...don't...think so. She wanted me to pass...o-out—"

Fatigue snatches my last wave of consciousness, sounds of the ocean crashing in my ears. A lid of dark slips over my thoughts, and I melt away.

***

I blink my eyes open. Cracks slither across the vomit-yellow ceiling-boards overhead, greeting me with a glare. Well, looks like I'm not in Kansas anymore. I should freak out, but I don't. 

Instead, I glance down. I'm sprawled over a sofa's wool cushions, muscles loose and relaxed. The sensation is sort of 'numb bliss.' Fall Out Boy and Green Day both sing about 'Novocaine', and I feel like someone's doused me in the anesthetic. 

Memories waft back. Cat, drug, building jumping, Galaxy.

Galaxy.  She must've brought me to her—

"Angelos!" The super's armor glows in the light of a stand-up lamp. She leans over me, visor shining. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah." I sit up, averting my eyes from her violet ones. They seem to burn me; I bet they melt lead. "Thanks for the rescue. Again." 

"No problem." She shrugs, tapping her ear. "I could hear your cries from across the city. Your scream is very particular, you know."

I stretch, now fully awake. Maybe I should thank that villain for giving me a restful sleep. "Interesting. Is it...manly?"

She snorts. "No. It's funny how girly it sounds, 'specially with your deep voice and all."