Hopelessly Heroic (Rewritten)

thirteen

It was all over the news. 

Somebody had been there, watching the whole fight, and it was all over the news. 

Willow had dropped her phone, and somebody had seen it happen, and picked it up, and opened it to see a picture of her parents. And it was all over the news.

"-unclear exactly why they were picked, but it is believed that they are Flame's next victims. Police are trying their best to track these people down so they can be protected until Flame is caught, but until then, they are urging anyone who might know these people to call the authorities and-"

Numbly, Willow turned the tv off. Her parents weren't the greatest people, and they may have kicked her out, but Willow didn't want to hurt them. The child in her was terrified her parents were watching the same broadcast, scared out of their minds that their daughter was going to kill them. Still, after all they did, Willow didn't want to disappoint them. She didn't want them to think she held resentment over what they did, even if she did. She wanted to be better than that. She wanted to be moved on.

It was exactly what she didn't want - her parents being afraid of her. That was what got her in this mess in the first place. She wanted to scream or pull her hair out or punch a pillow, but her hands had other plans. They were already on fire, in tune to her emotions maybe a little too well. 

Willow left her house before she caught her couch on fire again, using her shoulder to push the door open. She was only outside for a few seconds before June was landing in front of her, out of costume except her mask, which she took off when she hit the ground. 

"Who are they?" She said, holding her hands over Willow's and putting the fire out. Willow wiped her palms on her jeans and realised she was wearing normal clothes, completely out of disguise. 

"Who?"

June sighed, frustrated already. "The people in the picture,"

"I don't know."

June sighed again, clenching her fists. "Are they really your next victims?"

Willow laughed bitterly, annoyed at the question. June noticed and softened her gaze. 

"Have I ever had any victims before, Junie?" 

June stayed quiet, and Willow pulled her sleeves over her hands, trying to calm down, but deep breaths weren't working. She was upset her parents were going to think she was so angry and so evil that she was going to kill them. She wanted her parents to know she wasn't bad enough to do something like that, but she also wanted them to think she didn't care enough to try. She didn't want them to know how much it effected her that they didn't want her. 

"They're my parents," She admitted in a low voice, and June looked at her again. 

"Do they know?"

Willow wasn't exactly sure what June was asking. Do they know they're your next victim? Do they know you wouldn't do that? Do they know they're on the news? Do they know you're a villain? Willow shook her head.

She didn't know what her parents knew, but she hoped this would all blow over and they'd never find out. She knew the chances of that were slim. When her eyes started watering, she turned away from June. 

"You were wrong," June said suddenly, and Willow furrowed her brow.

"What?"

"You said you looked like a villain. You don't." June explained.

Willow turned even further to hide her stupid smile, and walked back toward her door. She figured June would follow, so she left it open behind her. 

"My name's Willow."

She heard the door shut gently behind her, and then June was standing next to her at the bottom of the stairs, one hand holding onto Willow's arm softly. "You should tell them."

Willow didn't really want to explain that the last thing her parents probably wanted was to see her. She knew she could trust June, especially after the fight, but she always felt weak when she got emotional. She didn't want anyone to feel bad for her. 

"I wouldn't even know how." She said, avoiding eye contact. Something about being out of costume in front of June made her feel extra vulnerable. 

There was no response, so she looked up. June was staring at something on her face, and she struggled to remember if she had any visible burn marks. It worried her that she couldn't recall every single one of them. There shouldn't be so many that you can't count them.

"How's it feel?" 

"What?" Willow said, drawing a blank.

June reached her hand out, brushing her fingers over Willow's jaw, where there was a fading bruise, courtesy of June herself.

Flushed, Willow cleared her throat, "Well, you sure hit harder than you look. You must hide a lot of muscle under that tight, tight costume of yours."

"Maybe I'll show you one day." June winked, and then she turned and walked back up the stairs, giving Willow a great view of her ass as she left.