Superheroes VS. Super Villains (A Collection)

A Whiny Assassin

I watched as Malcolm carefully made his way through the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible. He was doing an amazing job, because he was an assassin. He'd spent a lifetime training his body to be quiet. But he somehow failed to realize there was already a human in the kitchen when he entered.

I held back a laugh as he headed straight to the freezer, but then remembered that he was 4'3" and couldn't reach the new freezer. I knew exactly what he was doing, trying to steal some ice cream.

He had just turned around to grab a chair when he finally noticed me. He jumped backwards about 5 feet silently, or at least he tried to. Unfortunately the counter was only 3 feet away and so instead he hit that, knocking himself and a small pile of metal bowls to the floor with a bang.

"Malcolm! Are you ok?" I asked, hurrying over to assist him.

He sat up slowly and rubbed his head with a groan.
"Ow! I'm fine," he said, immediately switching back to his same tough guy tone, even through obvious pain and humiliation. "I was just getting some uh, you know, a glass of water."

I frowned at him best I could, still trying not to laugh as I helped the little troublemaker to his feet. "Water? Out of the freezer?"

"Um..."

"Malcolm," I said in a warning tone, the kind you would use on a child. "Were you trying to get at the ice cream?"

Malcolm gave me a disgusted look as I gripped harder onto onto his wrist. "No! I'm not a child Sampson, no matter how much you guys treat me like one. I'm an assassin, and I have more dignity than that."

"Malcolm!" I exclaimed, knowing full well what he was doing, despite his deceitful words. "This is why we moved the freezer up higher! That ice cream is for Xavier and you know it, he needs it to put on weight."

"Sampson, have you seen me lately?" He said, gesturing to himself. "I'm barely over 100 pounds, and you know most of that is muscle mass."

"Malcolm, you're just right for your size and you know it. You just have an unhealthy addiction to ice cream."

He frowned. "But I don't feel too good, and I figured if I had some ice cream I would forget it and feel better."

I sighed. "Malcolm, your logic is adorable."

"Call me adorable again," he mumbled angrily. "I'm a born killer, I'm not adorable..." It was then I noticed that his eyelids were drooping a little, and his face looked tired and drained of color. I placed the back of my hand on his forehead. Sure enough, he had a fever.

"Mal, you're sick buddy. How long have you felt bad?"

His eyes immediately went wide and panicked. "No! I'm not sick! I just don't feel so great, I just need-"

"Medicine, fluids, and most important, rest." I interrupted. "Do you want to take a nap on the couch or in your room?"

He made a very annoyed face before mumbling something about the couch. I gathered a couple blankets and took them to the living room, dragging the complaining assassin along by the wrist. After wrapping Malcolm in a blanket burrito I went to the bathroom to get medicine and the kitchen to get juice. From the kitchen I could hear the faint sound of him moving around, probably kicking off all his blankets. I decided to get him a cool cloth, even though he probably wouldn't take it. Sometimes I really wonder if he's 18 and not 2.

I rung out the rag and headed back to the living room. Sure enough, Malcolm had kicked off all the blankets and turned the TV on as loud as possible. He was now rubbing his forehead, arms, legs, and finger tips. He looked like he was having a both quiet and extremely controlled seizure.

As I got closer I realized why he turned the TV up so loud. There were tiny tears rolling down his face.

"Aw, Malcolm, what's wrong buddy?"

He looked up at me with a face I saw a lot on him. A sort of mix between "why are you looking at me, peasant?" And a "help me".

I put down the juice and medicine and slipped onto the couch, then pulled his small body onto my lap.

"Let me go!" He shouted furiously as he fisted a handful of my shirt and laid his head on my chest.

"Not until you tell me why you were crying." I said, shaking my head, making my chin move through his curly black hair.

"I don't know..." He said, sounding like he was going to cry again. "I guess I- I got kind of s-s-scared." Then he frantically pushed away, still holding onto my shirt with his right hand, tears brimming. "But just for a second! I'm fine now."

I rubbed his head, feeling his soft hair. "Ok, but I'd like to know what you were scared about anyway."

He laid his down against my chest again and I knew I was making progress. Had it been anyone else he would have started shouting about how he wasn't a baby, how he didn't have to answer to anyone, and stormed out. But for some reason he trusted me. I still hadn't figured it out yet, but he did.

"I was just thinking... You know, last time I got sick I almost... You know. I don't even remember most of it, but I really thought I was dying."

"I understand Mal. But this isn't like that at all! You were really sick that time, this is just a simple cold! You'll be over it in a day or two."

He rubbed the tears out of his eyes. "I was afraid to go to sleep, Sam. I was scared I'd never wake up again."

I rubbed his back as he hiccuped against my chest.

"How 'bout I stay here with you while you take a nap, huh?"

He finally removed himself from my lap and slouched next to me on the couch. "I have a better idea. How about I nap, you run to the store as fast as physically possible, and you have superspeed, don't you dare go slow! Run to the store and grab some chocolate raspberry ice cream, then run right back and wake me up so I know I'm not dead and we'll binge watch whatever is on TV until my fever breaks!"

I smiled and gave him a playful shove. "Nice try. I know how you feel about being sick, but you need your rest to get better. Go to sleep and I swear we'll do your plan once you're better!"

Malcolm grunted and settled down on the couch. "This... This is under protest."

"Yeah Shorty, I'm well aware." I said with a smile.

Soon enough the only sound was his gentle breathing as he slept.

"Sleep well, Shorty."

I don't know how I feel about this, when I started it wasn't set to be like that at all. Anyway, Malcolm and Sampson are adorable, and they'll definitely be making more appearances later on! XD

Thanks for reading! If you have any ideas, comments, criticism, please let me know! I love to hear from you guys!