Super?

I'm Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind

       I don't have a killer headache. At least the universe gives me that much. But the overwhelming weight of what I have to face when I open my eyes is enough to make me want to fall back into the peacefulness of unconsciousness.
       "Are you awake, May?" There's a hand touching my forehead softly. It takes a moment of indecisiveness before I finally let my eyes open. Dave's sitting on the edge of the bed, his smile too kind. I'm laying curled up in what I assume is the guest room of Dave and Oliver's home. Sunlight filters in through the curtained window behind me, and I can hear birds twittering obnoxiously outside.
       "Unfortunately," I mumble back in turn, wanting to do nothing more than to bury my face back in the soft pillow underneath my head.
       "Do you feel okay? I don't know if you remember, but I changed out your bandages. They were pretty dirty. You're wearing some of Oliver's sister's clothes that she left here a while ago. They're a bit big but I hope they're ok," he tells me, his eyes searching mine for the answers he so desperately seeks.
       "You didn't have to do all of this. After all that I've said to you? After everything I've done? How could you want me to stay in your home? I'm sure Oliver wasn't exactly happy to host the sketchy drunken woman," I mumble. Dave just laughs and shakes his head.
       "Oliver was fine with you staying here. And we both understand that you've been having a rough time. We just want to help you get back on your feet, for however much that will take. Whether you like it or not, you're my friend, Maya. Even if you treat yourself like shit." He rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment after that little speech, but still maintains sincere eye contact.
       "Thank you. Seriously," I sigh. I look around at the impeccable blue and grey decor, and that's when I see Delores's plastic travel carrier sitting atop the seat of a weathered rocking chair in the corner of the room. "You're the best, Dave." I throw my arms around his neck and give him a heartfelt hug. I can feel him grinning into my shoulder as he embraces me in return.
       "I know, I know," he laughs. When I pull back, though, his face has changed. He looks more solemn now, and I take in a long breath because I know what he's about to say.
       "I have some explaining to do. I understand completely. I guess I owe you that much at least," I murmur, looking away. Dave waits patiently as I fiddle with the hem of my borrowed fleece pajama top, trying to find the right words to say. "But you can't hate me, ok?" I feel an immense self-loathing as a tear escapes my eye and rolls down my cheek. God, I am such a mess.
       "How could I hate you when I know that whatever you've been through has you ending up like this?" His logic is obvious a bit warped, but it still stings because he makes it sound like I'm a hero for making poor life decisions. Like I should get a medal just because I survived my own mistakes.
       "I'm being framed for the murder of a boy," I say, examining my ragged cuticles. I figure I might as well get the worst of it over with. He blinks, looking confused. "The boy happens to be a superhero's son," I add. "And they hacked TV's all over the world and showed me killing him right before everyone's eyes. But... it wasn't me. Because I was watching. I knew him. The boy. His name was Dominic. I had kidnapped him for my boss, because I worked for a big-shot villain syndicate under the alias of Eris. Perhaps you've heard of me. I have some lame superpowers and I figured that I could something cool and evil with them. But things got out of hand. They wanted to kill the boy because Crimson wouldn't reveal her affair with Ivory to the press after we told her to. I took Dominic away before they could kill him, but the syndicate found me and crashed my car as I was on the way to the police department. Somewhere after that, Dominic went missing. After they tried to torture me for some information that I didn't have on his disappearance, they dumped me in the streets. Some kids found me and helped me out. They were nurses or something. After Dominic's death was filmed, I ran back to my apartment. That's when I found out that Reggie evicted me. He also drained my accounts and left me with just the clothes on my back. I decided I could drink all of my problems away, but... no such luck. That's where you come in."
       Dave doesn't speak for the longest time as he digests this crazy information overload. I wonder what he thinks of me now that he knows who I really am. I was a super-villain, for God's sake. Will he and Oliver kick me out? I wouldn't blame them if they did. Even I can't stand to look myself in the mirror anymore.
       Dave interrupts my internal panicking when he finally swallows hard and nods slowly. I look up at him with all of the pathetic desperation I can muster. I watch his lips part, so sure he's going to tell me to beat it or that he does hate me or that he can't believe I was lying all this time. I close my eyes, bracing myself as he starts to speak...
       "Ok," is all he says.
       "Ok?" I ask in disbelief.
       "Yeah. Ok." His face is still so calm, but then it breaks into a smile and he begins to laugh.
       "I tell you I'm the city's most hated super-villain and you laugh? Now I really know that there must be something wrong with you," I scold him. But soon he has me laughing too, even though I don't really know the reason why. His laugh is just too infectious, and it's been a long time since I've felt this relaxed.
       "Jesus, Maya. You had me thinking I was crazy, seeing you transform from a brunette to a blonde, seeing you send some guys flying into the wall with just a single punch. I'm talking TKO from a thin little blonde girl. I thought maybe something was wrong with me. Now I know! Hah! You've had superpowers this whole time. I guess that explains how you're not dead. I mean, at first, when I saw you all bandaged up like that in Walmart, hell, I thought maybe you had gotten caught up in the mafia or something. You've always been evasive about your job. I was thinking, Jesus, someone's coming after this kid. She's probably done something awful. When you told me I would hate you just a bit ago, I thought there were going to be some gang-leaders busting down my door any minute. But you're telling me that you're on the run from a superhero and basically the whole city, heroes and bad guys alike." He smiles. Seriously. He's smiling.
       "Um. I think you're in shock, Dave. How is any of this a good thing?" I ask, perturbed. Maybe this was too much information to put forward at once. I should've done the smart thing and shut my mouth. I definitely shouldn't have given my whole freaking life story.
       "Because I know you, and I know that you'll be ok. You've been through hell and back, probably; I can't deny you that much. But now I know that you have superpowers, for God's sake. And you're getting better, right? I mean, at not being a villain. You wanted to help that little boy. And you're saying you're innocent, right? That you didn't kill him?" I'm still not completely understanding where he's going with this, but I nod.
"So be innocent. Nobody knows who you are, right? I mean, that you're Eris? Besides this syndicate." His eyebrows raise. I nod, dumbfounded. "So don't be her anymore. Get away from all of this crap. Leave the villain in you behind or whatever. I mean, I'm no Dr. Phil, but... what holding on to your old self is doing to you? It's not healthy," he tells me. I just stare at him.
       "You do realize I never asked for any of this to happen, right?"
       "I know."
       "I can't stop them from trying to destroy my life," I growl, getting irritated now. Does he really think that I haven't tried to escape this all? Wanted to give it all up more than once?
       "Then fight back. Not as Eris, but as Maya Waterman. Show the world that you're innocent, and you won't have to live in fear." He says this like it's so simple. Like if I just hand out fliers telling people I didn't really kill that boy despite what their televisions showed them, then they'll actually believe me. At my incredulous expression, he continues to speak. "I'm not saying it'll be easy, but would you rather spend the rest of your life in fear and hopelessness, getting drunk off your ass every night and hoping someone will be there to catch you when you fall?"
       "I didn't ask you to come and save me," I bristle. His lips twitch up in the ghost of a smile.
       "Believe me, I know that. And I know that you have a bit of a problem when it comes to accepting help. Plus you're a bit of a sore loser," he winks at me when he says this, "So why don't you do what you do best and fight back so you can have a chance at winning for once?"
       I roll my eyes and flop back down on the bed, staring up at the crisp white ceiling and the tiny chandelier dangling above me.
       "You'd make a great superhero, Dave, you know that? You're a monologuing fool, just like the whole lot of them," I groan. "You can make anything sound so easy to do. Like those idiots who say 'You can do anything if you put your mind to it.' Sure, I'll just go try and prove a super-villain's innocence. Easy-peasy. How about I go wrestle Chuck Norris while I'm at it?" My voice is positively dripping with sarcasm. Dave just shrugs.
       "Ok, so I'm being a bit of a drama queen. But I mean what I say. I think you can be a good person if you want to be. You just have to start somewhere, and maybe you should start with making other people believe you can be good."
       "And how do I go about doing that, Mr. I-Love-To-Speak-In-Quotes-I-Found-Online?" He leans over me so that I can see his eyes dancing with mischief. He's definitely milking the moment. What he says next better be good.
       "Go be a superhero," he whispers in my ear. I groan loudly and start beating him with my (or his, I suppose) pillow. He laughs unabashedly and ducks, putting his hands up in surrender.
        "You suck, Dave!" I complain.
       "But he's not entirely wrong, you know," another voice says calmly from the opposite side of the room. I freeze in the middle of thumping the pillow at Dave and see a guy standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets, shaggy blonde hair hanging into his eyes.
        "Hey, Ollie! Maya, you can now officially and consciously meet my boyfriend," Dave smiles. My friend looks completely relaxed, not at all worried that his partner may have heard our entire befuddling conversation and that he probably thinks I'm some crazy mafia super-villain lady who is currently taking residence in their guest bedroom.
        "Um, hey. You must be Oliver. It's, like, incredibly cool of you to let me stay here. And for, um, everything else." Now I'm the one who's self-conscious.
        "Please, call me Ollie." When he smiles, two dimples appear at his cheeks. "And it's a pleasure to have you stay with us. Dave's told me all about the legendary Maya, arm-wrestling champion who can outdrink even good ol' Barry," he smirks. "And from what I couldn't happen to help but overhear, you've got some superpowers as well. Eris is pretty badass. You're one formidable foe, my friend. It's shame you let people walk all over you." He walks over to us, looking completely content and not at all afraid of insulting an ex-villain.
        "I do not," I protest. "And what is up with you two? Are you sure you're not on marijuana or something? You're both unbelievingly accepting of, like, everything. You say a wanted super-villain is a pleasure to have as a houseguest, you brought my pet snake here with me, and you aren't worried in the slightest that I might go psycho on you any second, despite my horrible track record."
       They look at each other and exchange a knowing smile.
       "It's true," Ollie says. "You'll probably never meet anybody cooler than we are. But it probably helps like I'm a huge geek and I've always had a soft spot for misunderstood villains. And Dave here is a huge softie," he adds, poking his boyfriend in the shoulder. Dave tries to give him a dirty look but can't keep the grin off of his face. These two are like angels fallen to earth or something. It's almost nauseating. Two humans can't possibly be this kind and understanding. (Or maybe I'm just meeting all the wrong people...)
        "Now enough heart-to-heart, Dave. Maya here looks like she's about to throw up or run away, or a combination of the two. Let's eat some bacon," Ollie declares. He has to be the best person I've ever met and I've only known him for a few minutes. Because at the thought of greasy bacon sizzling on the stovetop, I'm practically drooling onto the nice blue duvet on top of me. It looks like my luck is turning after all. But there's still no way in hell I'm going to become a superhero.