Light Beam and Dark Thunder were always meant to be on opposite sides. Enemies with a past and no possible future.
Superhero. Supervillain.
Righteous. Nefarious.
Popular. Infamous.
But there was only one little problem with that: they liked their...
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"Rise and shine, Stabbed one!"
"Get out of here!" He groaned and threw a pillow at me.
"Dark, come on, we have so much to do!" I said, tossing the pillow back at him.
"I'm tired." He said.
"Nope, you're going to wake up and pretend like you were never stabbed at all!"
"I think I might be dying, your Supervillain origin story is really shaping up."
"You're not dying." I said, blankly. "I'm dying. I'm bored."
"You're being a pain in the ass!" He said.
"I just thought maybe it's time to work on your next Supervillain project?"
"I have to work out before I can even think about going on a supervillain thing--besides, what's the point of doing any of that anyway when you're not going to be there to stop me? This is all your fault Light! If you hadn't got caught, I'd still have purpose and maybe even the will to live." He was being just the right amount of dramatic and sarcastic.
"I have been listening to you whine about that for two whole weeks now and all I have to say is if you don't have the will to live, then die!" I almost regretted rescuing him.
"Ouch, that hurt more than a stabby paper plane." He frowned.
"So does that mean you're actually dying on me?"
"You wish Beam! Now why the hell are you inside my house?" He asked, slowly sitting up. He was still in pain. This was...unusual? Most Supers healed faster. It was how our bodies were generally built.
"I didn't have anything to do at home so yeah, I'm here now." I shrugged nonchalantly.
"Nice try. Now why are you really here?"
"I already told you! I'm bored." I said.
"And that's why you're with your worst enemy?"
"I thought we already discussed that? You're not cool enough to be my worst enemy. That honor is reserved for Francis Cave. No, I'm with you because I feel like it's my fault you're hurt and I want to make sure you're okay? Is that so hard to believe?" Fine. I cared about him. I got him into this. I had to get him out of it.
"Yes. You've been here almost every day for the last two weeks and you know I'm going to be okay, especially with the whole super healing thing. Light. What do you want?" He was annoyingly good at this.
I didn't say anything for a moment. He shook his head. "Forget it, I don't really have to know, so what are we doing today--"
"Why do you want to live Dark?" I asked, interrupting him.
"Because dying is scary." He didn't even skip a beat--it was like he had thought about this. Like he had this answer prepared for exactly this sort of situation. It was scary?
