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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It dawned on me that I was all alone. The box just made it explicit. Even with all my fantasies of what Luke and I could've been I knew he still hated the parts of me that I was most attached to. He worked with the Tower. He'd agree that I deserved to be here. As deeply as he claimed to care, he was always going to look at me and see a version of me worse than what I saw.
Maybe I'd get to kiss those gentle lips of his again but he'd never look at me with admiration the way he looked at Light Beam.
Dark was just like him in so many ways. He had betrayed me. The reason didn't matter. He said it himself, when it came to Luke. A betrayal was a betrayal. No matter how justified. Even if I deserved a knife in the back, it would still feel like a knife in the back. It would hurt like hell. And it would never be the same.
I wondered how his forehead was now? Did he get someone to help him fix it? Did he struggle all by himself? Did his torso still hurt? Was someone taking care of him?
Was Elliot okay? Had he made Dark breakfast and cleaned him up? Had Dark said something cheesy to make Elliot feel a little less worse about Felicity?
Did Elliot miss me? Would he care that I was locked up in here?
Would Dark really become a Superhero? What color would his suit be, if not black? Would they let him keep his suit a shadowy black? Would he have to call himself something else? Would he still be the same if he did?
Would I mourn him? If something truly did happen to him?
I don't know how many hours or days I just sat there thinking about them. Forcing myself to not think about what Fel would think of me. I didn't need that in here.
I had received a few meals. I couldn't keep count. It didn't matter how much time passed. They could keep me in as long as they wanted. Dark was registered here now. Beating the crap out of him was as much a crime as hurting Slow Crash was considered.
Sleep came easily. I didn't have much other than that to do in this horrible cage.
I lay there, staring at the low ceiling. It's what I generally did.
They had questioned me. Once. It was more of a formality. They had informed me that Dark helped them, I already knew that. They told me that maybe if I told them about my headaches I'd be taken to some place comfier than the box. I was tempted but not enough to give in.
I had limited contact with anyone outside my cell. Nobody really wanted to see me. I guess I understood that.
Nobody wanted to be associated with a criminal. I teared up. It didn't matter. They wouldn't be able to see it in the dark anyway.
I didn't know why it felt so lonely. It was only a tiny prison cell.
Maybe it would've been nice if my parents came to see me. At least then I'd get to revel in their disappointment. I'd get to watch all their expectations dissolve into something much more hateful. Maybe they already hated me?
