Different [A Superhero AU] - Book One

Chapter Twenty-One - Nighttime Confrontations

Cry slams the door of his room, crossing the floor and sliding down the wall. Shaking, he holds his head in his hands and pulls his knees to his chest. He can still feel the cold metal of the gun in his hand, and the memory of his bullet piercing Matt's chest still haunts his mind. He stares at his hands, trying to figure out whether he's shaking because of the images ingrained in his brain or anger.

Matt was a traitor, but does that justify his actions? Is this what his father's mission entails?

He stands, striding towards his desk and whipping out his notebook. Thoughts, nightmares, plans, and more are scrawled across the page in messy penmanship, the cover worn and the pages nearly soaked in black ink. Despite the untidy nature, Cry treasures this book. It holds every thought he deemed necessary to write down and every plan he's ever made since childhood within its pages.

He flips to the most recent page, reading through the tasks he scribbled down. Taking a pen in his hand, he places a checkmark in the first box. He closes the books and purses his lips before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

—

Jack lies back in bed, the anaesthesia becoming too hard to fight. In his drugged, sleepy state, the villain watches Mark stand up, shut off the light, and return to his spot.

"When was the last time you slept?" he asks, imitating Mark with a low, kind of terrible American accent.

Mark laughs. "You do an Irish accent better."

With his eyes still closed, he pats the hero's shoulder with a light smile. "No shit, Sherlock." He opens his visible eye, growing serious. "Honestly, though."

"A while."

Jack nods a little. "Don't be afraid to sleep here. I'm okay with company, plus I won't get nightmares if you're with me."

The hero eyes the clock momentarily before nodding.  He smiles a little.  "Okay."

With that, the Irishman nestles into the pillows and allows the anaesthesia to knock him out again.

Jack wakes up a few hours later, feeling much less drugged than before. Mark, with his red hair sticking up at odd angles, sleeps beside him like a log.  He can't help but wonder how long Mark stayed awake before finally succumbing to rest. 

"Look at this fearsome hero!" the sarcastic side of Jack's brain says. He nearly laughs out loud at the thought.

He goes to tuck himself in and sleep again, but before he can scuffling comes from the hallway. Jack straightens up, crawling cautiously out of bed and placing his feet on the floor. As he stands up, the door silently pulls itself open.

"Who's there?" the villain whispers, taking a step towards the darkened hallway.

Cry materializes in front of him, and although his face doesn't show it, he sends off an aura of anger. Jack flinches, his hands instinctively balling into fists.

"How did you get in here?" the Irishman demands in a whisper.

"I can turn invisible." Cry's jaw clenches. "Why the hell is there a hero sleeping in your bed?"

Jack's blood runs cold. He glances back at Mark before turning back towards his comrade. "Leave him alone. Whatever you came here for doesn't concern him."

"He kidnapped you! Whatever is happening between you and your little boyfriend does concern me!" Cry scolds, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"He is not my boyfriend."

"I don't care what he is! He's a hero, and heroes kidnapped you and tortured you."

"They didn't torture me."

Cry crosses his arms, using his height as a method of intimidation. "Why are you sticking up for them?"

Jack glares at him, his gaze alone making up for the couple of inches between them. "You killed Matt."

"I did it to protect the others. Now I'm saving you," Cry states. "Come on, we don't have all day to stand here and argue."

Anger bubbles in Jack's gut. The man in front of him killed Matt, one of their former friends and comrades. The longer he watches Cry, the more annoyed he gets with everything; that stupid mask that stops anyone from seeing his emotions, the cold demeanour he portrays, the jabs he makes towards Mark.

"What if I don't want to go back? What if I don't want to get tortured more?" Jack demands, nearly shaking as he tries to keep his voice at a whisper.

Cry grabs the front of his shirt and drags him into the hallway, pushing him against the wall with a thud that echoes against the floors and ceiling.

"If you choose to stay here, I will kill Mark." He tightens his grip on the Irishman's shirt. "I will lock you out here while I go in and murder him in his sleep."

Jack swallows, the image of Mark's dead body flashing through his mind. He wouldn't put it past Cry to keep his word. He shuts his eyes. Is losing Mark's trust worse or better than losing Mark as a whole? He could always explain what happened to him, but would the hero listen? Would Mark hate him for betraying his trust?  The answer is simple in his mind. 

"Fine, I'll go with you."

Cry releases his shirt, allowing Jack to slump against the wall. The masked villain strides down the hallway, motioning for the other man to follow. Jack glances at the room one last time before following his comrade with a heavy heart.