Damsel[ed]: No Rescue Required

Chapter 41: The Final Act

Jaylin.

I said it as a lie. He was a sobbing, hormonal mess and I needed him to shut up.

Yet, as I stand in front of the place I've called 'home' for as long as I can remember, I realize I wasn't lying at all.

I am sorry. For everything. For Heaven going into a stupid coma-thing, for Gatsby growing cat ears, and for Angel getting hurt. A cold sweat breaks under my costume. All of it's my fault, and I feel like a hole's opened up in my chest.

Angel buckles, so heavy and limp I'm half-sure he'll crush me. I close my eyes, the blare of sirens ringing louder in my ears. The rain pours, cold and biting. The bitterest feeling sits in my chest as I inch my sleeping prisoner near the unfriendly building. It looms at the end of the street, its sharp steel edges streaking toward the sky.

I'm the hand-wringing, bwa-ha-ha-ing, capital 'V' villain I always wanted to be and I hate it.

Rain streams through my hair. Angel sighs in his sleep and a sick feeling twists in my core like I kicked a bucket of puppies. I don't want to turn him in. 

I shrug his body over my shoulder to support it, but God, he's heavy. The sirens scream louder, but I still stare, frozen in front of the HQ's cold front. It's all I've ever known. 

Before Angelos, all I wanted was to be a part of it. I didn't want to be the precious princess daughter of a superhero. In the damsel-knight-dragon equation, I wanted to be the dragon. I think of Angel with his supervillain parents and almost smile. He gets it.

My shadow spreads on the street, blue and red stinging my peripherals. I promised Angel I'd make things right. Maybe, for the first time in my life, I'll follow through on my word. 

I try to heft Michelangelos into a bridal carry. My arms shake, and I almost drop him. Stupid obsidian-power-absorber-thing! After several seconds of contemplation, I throw him over my shoulder and pray I can take the weight. 

The sirens shriek so loud I can't hear anything else. My pulse races. I like plans, but now, I don't have time for one. Instead, I run right past the HQ and through the teeny, smoky alley beside it. I know my way through these streets. I'll take Angel home. There. That's plan enough. Fuck my future and the people who cared for me. I'll figure all that stuff out later. 

I breathe in the acrid city air. People move like shadows through the backways, but I ignore them and they ignore me. 

I memorized the route to Angel's apartment months ago. The walk takes a while, and I try not to think of what Snare/Syndicate/Neutrals/Whoever Catches My Sorry Ass will do if they get me. This is treason. To the utmost degree.

And deep in my gut, I know this is right. I know I've wanted to break away for a long time and Angelos Fibbs was just the catalyst.

After a couple of hours drift by of me shifting Angelos while humming stupid Disney tunes to calm myself, I peel behind the guy's ritzy apartment complex. 

Maybe I'll have to take Angel up on his offer and beg his guardians to take me in. Juniper's pretty cool. She sabotaged two major criminal organizations and is not only still alive but lives right by one of them. I wonder what superpowers she has if Fallout won't even touch her. 

I try to fly, but I can barely get three feet off the ground. I spot the shiny fire escape of a neighboring building and take that instead. 

The sky's pink, rain clouds scuttling away. Angel shivers, soaking wet. My heart thuds and I...I...want to hold him. The sun shifts on the horizon, and I move the poor guy into my arms. His even breathing has an odd, calming effect, like I could just stand here and listen to it for hours. I smile. He's kind of bearable when he isn't talking, but all the same, I miss chatty Angelos.  

I step back and leap the distance between buildings, balancing Anglofish all the while. I laugh, imagining his expression when I tell him about the jump. 

I manage to move across the ledge and to Gatsby's never-locked window. I set Sleeping Beauty over my aching shoulder, lift the screen, and drag him through. 

I don't know what to feel. All I know is without my mask, I'm awfully vulnerable. Even at the HQ I wear it, it's a part of who I am, like a princess's tiara or a dragon's wings. I pick up Angel and carry him into his room. It's a strain, but I ignore the pain and plop him on his bed. 

I'm a stalker, but I've never watched him sleep. Well, except when I knocked him out at the dance, but I don't count that. 

I look down at him. His head's lolled to the side, a ghost of a smile on his face. His wings hang limp and unfolded. I undo his ties and sit beside him. It's so quiet, and my heart's beating too fast. "We could be good guys." A pinprick of energy sparks through me. Maybe...

"I saved your butt," I whisper, squeezing his hand, "it's a start."  I yawn, and for the first time, I realize how tired I am. I stretch against the cool mattress, allowing my hand to stay on his. It feels so good, and not only because of the tingly rush. 

He stays quiet. My mind drifts to Galaxy—Heaven. She'll make it. She's tough. At least for Gatsby's sake, I know she'll power through. I think of Kitten and smile, I'm sure he's just happy to be near her.

I close my eyes, so exhausted I don't fight my sleepiness. I just drop, Angel's warmth so gentle I want to lie here forever. And for the first time in a while, I'm at peace.

END OF BOOK ONE

***

We reached the end! And it was a short chapter! And I'm sorry! Anyway, I felt these poor characters needed a break, so I kind of wanted it to end on a softer note ;).  I'm working on book two now, Damsel[ed]: Some Rescue Required. So, I guess there's that.

I'd like to thank you SO much for reading this to the end. It means an awful lot to me and you're awesome and hey! You survived :D!