Doctored Chance #NaNoWriMo2019

16 | My Hero

"My hero!" Mr. Might cheered in his warm and booming voice, which was perceived akin to Santa Claus' by the usual public. It was the voice of someone trustworthy and powerful in ways that the people couldn't understand; the voice of someone that children could root for and adults could respect. It was supposed to sound dependable and approachable, strong and protective, and to anyone else, it would have. "You, sir, did a brave thing. It is everyday heroes like you that make the world a better place. The more citizens fighting injustice, the less injustice there will be. I commend you. Truly, I commend you."

Tobias's jaw hung open. Mr. Might's words echoed mutedly in his head, as if whispered to him from one end of a long, twisting tunnel.

"It was your fault, you hairbrained twit!" he wanted to scream, his fists clenching. "You are reckless and irresponsible, and you don't deserve to be a hero until you learn that there are consequences for your actions."

Mr. Might stared at him expectantly, but his perfect grin began to falter in the tense silence. "Thank you for your service, hero. Thank you."

"You called me Pajama Boy at my funeral. Was I a joke to you?" His lips remained motionless, though his body quivered like a rabbit's. Angry words and sentences and feelings swam in his head as volatile as the volcano from which they were born, but nothing came out. He pictured it coming out, but in any future that his jaw unlocked, the reaction he envisioned was not worth the exposure of his self.

"Sir?" Mr. Might stooped to search his eyes. "Are you all right?"

The man was oblivious, Tobias thought, his lips twitching upwards with a hysteric breath of a laugh to himself. It felt unreal to be so close and yet so distant. It was baffling to see Benjamin Jones inches away, and yet, not punching his shoulder or tussling his hair or laughing at him. He yearned to lash out and reveal himself, to rub Mr. Might's nose in it, to see the look in his face when he saw that Tobias had made it of the island despite Mr. Might, but that not all of him had, and that was his fault. Tobias wanted to slap him and punch him and hurt him. He could see his chances. He could see the dangerously high possibility of himself pulling off the mask, and he could see the fear and hurt it would spark, but ultimately, it wasn't enough. In a jail room with two supers, he would only hold power over Mr. Might for a second before becoming powerless and unfulfilled again, and it was not enough. Chances were against him, favoring the superheroes. One day, Tobias vowed, sparking the beginning of a wicked plan, I'll take his chances away from him, just as he took mine.

Mr. Might pursed his lips. "Are you all right?"

Tobias snapped into the present. "Of course." He smiled lucidly and his quivering diminished. "It's just such an honor."

He took hold of Mr. Might's hand in both of his and shook it heartily as they beamed falsely at one another. Each man was blissfully unaware of the misplaced thoughts of the other, but both wore figurative masks that day.

Spectre cleared her throat. "Mr. McGuire's taxi is waiting outside. As is the press."

"Well," Mr. Might clapped Tobias on the back. "Let's get our hero back into the world."

Tobias staggered at an explosion of pain but held his breath and tried not to let on. He smiled tightly at Mr. Might, then Spectre, and gestured to the door. Pressure clenched his lungs as he choked himself back from releasing any sound that would indicate his agony to the superhero as he limped resolutely with them. The scars from the shrapnel removal had not fully formed yet.

"Mr. Might, wait." Spectre covertly came to his rescue. Mr. Might's hand left his bandaged back as he awaited his former team member to continue. She gently patted Tobias on the arm, where she knew there was no damage. "His payment."