Superheroes Suck

Chapter 13: Confession Time

"Enough chit chat." Stromer pushed me forward, dangerously close to the edge of the building.

The blasting of sirens echoed in the distance as people began to notice something was going on up here.

My time has come. I guess I could expect to only stall for so long. At this point, I can only hope I gave Spitfire enough time to get here before I go splat. Or I suffocate. Either would be preferable.

"Are you sure you don't want to just...not drop me off of this building?" I suggested.

Stromer's glare told me that was a definite no.

It was worth a try.

And so was ramming my knee into his unmentionables as hard as I possibly could and shoving him off the building before he could do the same to me.

I stumbled as far from the edge as I could, knowing that any moment Stromer shoot back in the air and bring me to my death. Maybe not in a way as poetic as falling would have been. I had already pissed him off so I doubt he'd have the patience to try to drop he again. Stromer would most likely vaporize me on sight.

"Miss me you cu-" Stromer didn't finish that statement.

I've never been so happy to see Spitfire.

He grabbed Stromer by the collar and pulled him down below my sightline. I clambered to the edge to watch the two battle it out in the air. They circled around each other assessing the other's strengths and weaknesses before diving into a full on brawl.

Confession time, I did not hit Stromer "with all my strength."

I couldn't do that to my camera, I had worked two summers just to buy it. Two full summers of forty hour weeks was enough to keep me from coming close to damaging my camera. It was the thing that I loved most in the world.

You may ask me why I'm saying that when it has nothing to do with the story.

I just thought I'd explain that before I continued so you wouldn't be confused about what comes next, and it is important so I can't just leave it out.

Stromer threw a punch straight for Spitfire's face, as if fighting mid-air was as easy as breathing. His fist soared, meeting Spitfire's jaw with a sickening crunch.

Along with that, my camera clicked as Stromer swung him. Perfect.

These photos were going to be the one thing everyone wants but only I have. I am the luckiest freaking journalist on the planet or something, being this close is a miracle. Damn.

The impact of Stromer's punch was enough to toss Spitfire back a few feet, but not enough to take him out for the count.

Using all the momentum he could against the air, Spitfire thrust himself at Stromer. Two the wrestled midair, amassing another attentive crowd beneath them as they did so.

The police circled below as if trying to convey that they had some sort of control or part in this showcase of grandeur even when they were as helpless as I was atop this building.

I wonder how hard it would be to find a flight of stairs to get me the hell off of this thing.

"As if some pansy like you has the ability to outwit the genius that stands before you." Stromer sneered, throwing a psionic blast towards Spitfire.

The latter of the two deflect and stared at Stromer in disappointment, "Is that supposed to be some overconfident statement that showcases how great you are? Really?" Spitfire groaned and cast his eyes up at me. "I am so disappointed. I wanted to first time I got to heroically help defend you to be someone special, or at at least less of a moron."

"It's the second!" I yelled back as Stromer threw Spitfire against the building that yours truly was photographing on. "He tried to drop me off this building last time!"

"Thanks, you're right." Spitfire gained the upper hand, singeing Stromer's ridiculous uniform.

Stromer yelped back, trying to put out his now burning costume. The blaze had begun to spread to his ridiculous cape, which waved helplessly against the blackness of the night.

"Also, you mentioned that you were going to 'heroically help defend' me?"

He glared back at Spitfire who had come up to my level to flash me his stupid grin. "You seemed like you were doing pretty okay on your own. You were still alive by the time I got here which points to a relatively capable damsel not so much in distress."

Stromer flew forward, trying to catch Spitfire by surprise. Not to be upstaged, just as Stromer got close enough to touch Spitfire, the latter's fist was up in the air and smashing unceremoniously against Stromer's face. He just grinned at me in response. Of course I got a picture of it.

Stromer fell. And fell. He continued until Spitfire had enough of grinning at me and dropped down to catch him in his arms. I guess that last blow was enough to knock Stromer out cold.

He could have brought Stromer safely to the ground and floated heroically for all of the spectators to gush over to their friends in the morning. That would have been what a superfluous and vain hero would have done, not to say Spitfire wasn't either of those things.

Instead, Spitfire dropped the conquered villain from a survivable height, allowing him to unceremoniously fall flat on the pavement, only to be swarmed by police and eager onlookers wanting to be the first to post it to Snapchat.

Meanwhile, Spitfire ascended up to me, grinning as he offered me a hand, "Why don't I take you home. Save you all the trouble of having to go all the way down the stairs and dealing with everything that awaits you down there."

"I'd appreciate that."

Spitfire dropped me off on the roof of my house, allowing us to saunter over to my window as if the night had been mundane and normal. Maybe it had been for Spitfire, but not for me.

"I guess I'll just be seeing you around." Spitfire shrugged, tapping his costumed knuckles against the glass window panes.

"Hopeful next time that will be under better circumstances."

"Trust me," Spitfire took a step back. "It will be."

His eyes never leaving mine, Spitfire floated up towards the stars and flew away into the night. I waited for a few moments outside, taking in the fact that I was alive despite all the odds stacked against me.

The first thing I did once inside was call Mary who spent ten minutes screeching at me and then fifteen bawling her eyes out, asking if I was alright. I told her the story, I didn't leave out a single detail. She appreciated it greatly, promising to spread all sorts of rumors around the school of my bravery, as well as how yummy Spitfire looked.

Afterwards, I uploaded all of the photos I had taken to The Advocate's folder for the night. Well, not all of them. Just the ones that weren't blurry or downright terrible.

After that, I fell right to sleep.