The Undoing of Sidekicks | ✓

thirty seven

a/n: part 3/3 updated today.

thirty seven

I STEPPED toward Mistress. She raised a brow, before callously firing a shot at Josh once more. He managed to duck out of the way, barely, mostly because another mercenary had flung a shot of blue electricity his way.

"You really want to risk the next shot, Leo?" Mistress' tone was dark, challenging.

I'm not letting anyone else get hurt because of our fight.

It had started with my stupid partnership with Mistress, and it would end that way, too. She'd already hurt the kids, hurt Zuri, and now — now she had her gun trained at Josh, who was already busy attempting to fight the superpowered soldiers she'd brought with her.

My eyes shot to the remains of the crate Mistress had been knocked into, spied a larger crate in the back. I wouldn't be able to throw it — my powers were too spent to muster for that. I'd have to resort to measures that sacrificed something other than my energy.

You're not a sidekick anymore, Leo. You're not a villain, either. It's time to step up and be the hero.

Reaching for my powers once more, I rallied them within me as my understanding of how I was to win this fight clicked in.

Sometimes, you have to take one for the team.

A trickle of blood started from one nostril, then the other. I was already overexerting myself, and I could feel the power draining me as I continued drawing on it, dipping further into that well. I felt myself scratching the bottom of it already, but I forced myself to continue channeling it.

Mistress was watching me closely, suspicious.

That was when I struck — my powers shifted, enveloping me in a golden sheen as I toppled into a heap of particles, travelling swiftly over the ground before I appeared before the barrel of her gun.

Reeling back, Mistress attempted to redirect the gun to Josh again. My powers flickered again, drawing on particles to build a hard shell around her hand, the gun and my own hand. I had it aimed squarely at my own chest.

Swallowing hard, I pushed back the tears that were attempting to well in my eyes.

I'm not letting anyone else get hurt because of our fight.

Mistress claimed she knew me. What she didn't count on, was that I knew her too. She would go to any lengths, sacrifice any pawns, hurt anyone, if it meant prolonging my agony during this fight. She was a child in that regard, and if you cut her fun short, she'd implode.

Now, me directing her gun at myself, was the quickest way of short-circuiting that fun. It gave Josh a better chance of battling the soldiers, one I knew he could use to eventually win. He was good, through and through, despite his missteps.

I had left instructions, too, for Zuri if I didn't make it. She hadn't found them yet, but there were documents tucked beneath her pillow, listing what I wanted her to do should I not come back. There was a stack of emergency money waiting, too.

As long as they made it, I found that I could at least try to accept the implications of my own sacrifice. Swallowing the hard lump in my throat, I fought the chilling sensation running up and down my back.

"What is this?" Mistress sneered, "Some grand sacrifice? You think this will help you win?"

Eyes level, tone flat, I stared her down.

"I don't know," I answered, honestly, " — but it'll help Josh get away. It means he can come for you, again and again and again, until we finally get you. And then we lock you away, forever. You, alone, in a dark cell."