The Collection: Short Stories, Misfits, and One-shots

Hero Complex

Happy Sunday guys, and here's yet another short story for your enjoyment. I hope you like it, and feel free to comment, vote, and follow! :) This one is not exactly the happiest of stories, but I still wanted to add it in here, so I apologize on that front. Sorry guys.

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"Do you have some hero complex?" He paused in his approach to the door and stared back inquisitively.

"I guess?" She realized how silly the question was, but he furrowed his brow, giving the question deep thought. "Maybe, you could say I have an affinity for helping others."

She scoffed, and he pouted in turn, not a very heroic action. "More like an affinity for getting yourself nearly killed."

"I didn't think you had a problem with it." They were definitely not on the same page anymore.

"Only when I realize I could really lose you. Forever." He had started to be under the assumption that they were joking up until that, his smile faltering.

"Lose me?" He echoed her words, confusion plaguing his voice. "Is that what has been bothering you?"

She had to rein back her emotions before she shouted in his face. "Yes! I'm scared that one day I'm going to turn around and you'll simply be gone - dead."

"Dead-," he repeated. The word sounded truly awful on his lips, his eyes wide. In all the years that he had been doing his heroics the word had never once been uttered before him. As far as the world was concerned he was invincible, invulnerable, inhuman.

She knew otherwise. He was as human as they came; vulnerable, and possibly one of the largest targets for death. On some days she almost believed the hype and went along with his escapades, but today was different; today the risk was greater - perhaps too great. His chances of dying were astronomical, but to him it was simply another day on the job. "I won't die," he whispered. His eyes found hers, and held them there, acknowledging the tears, but not wiping, or supporting them.

She was taken aback by his words, never having expected a reply from him, but his eyes were glistening, a hard determination bringing light back to them.

"Trust me. I'll come back." His hand cupped her face gently, placing a small kiss on her lips before he stepped back. That hand took hers in its palm, squeezing ever so tightly. "Trust me, won't you?" Her mind froze, unable to form a coherent thought, her mouth opening, but no words coming out. She wanted to tighten her hold on his hand, but slowly it slipped out of her grasp, his retreat beginning. He was in control of his body while she was not, and somehow he didn't need to hear the words she wanted so badly to say, his form disappearing from her sight, stepping into the dark smoke of the building.

He left her there, those words repeating in her head like a drug putting her in a trance, a part of her wanting to believe them. If only he knew the truth of the fragility of his own life. Above the ground level of the building, the rest of the structure was a torrent of flames, the beckoning cries of a woman pulling her husband to a fate that not even she knew. Her hand balled up at her side, her jaw rigid with apprehension.

The cries from inside stopped, and then there was a surge, the flames pluming past the windows that had once held it in. An arm tugged her out of the blast radius, a man pulling her to the ground as debris fell around them. Small pieces of rubble an metal scattered beside her form, but her eyes remained on the destroyed building before them, searching the doorway for any sign of him.

Firefighters rushed past her, shouting for her to get out of the way, but she was rooted to that spot, not moving even when an officer tried to pull her to the side. "Ma-am, please, we need you to step back."

"I can't." The officer gave her an annoyed look, but let her explain. "My husband's inside."

There was silence as the woman tried to figure out what to say, but in the end there wasn't much that could ease the situation.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm afraid no one would have survived that."

"At least let me ask the firefighters," she said quietly. The officer nodded, but had her step back a little still.

When the crew came back out, their brightly colored uniforms were nearly black, smoke and soot staining the material. The officer managed to flag down the captain and had him come over.

"She says that her husband had gone inside," she heard the officer explain, the captain glancing at her form warily. "Is there any chance?" There was a shake of the head, and then the captain whispered something back, something that made the officer shrink back, unable to immediately repeat the words even after he had left.

"Ma'am?" She felt the officer's hand on her shoulder, comforting her even before the words were said.

"He didn't make it, did he?"

"No, he didn't." She nodded, not surprised, her gaze going to the floor where the woman had been.

"Did he at least make it to her?" The officer looked uncomfortable with the question thrown at her.

"Almost. He had made it to the floor when the flames found a gas pipe." The coldness found her then, her arms hugging her body to evade the terrible feeling. "Come on, ma'am. Is there anyone you know that could take you in?"

"Is it alright if I stayed here?" She didn't want to leave just yet, not when she hadn't gotten to even say goodbye."

"Sure," the officer said. She stepped back, and gave her space, leaving her to stare at the shell of a building. It was awful to realize how quickly it had all happened, one minute he was reassuring her, and the next he was gone, dead. She could have said something in that moment her body had frozen, told him that he was being ridiculous, but then would he have listened? She couldn't fix his hero complex, the one that drove him to do amazing, but dangerous acts.