Two Idiots and a Cape

Chapter 1: That Damn Cape

Antennes surveyed the abandoned building he'd just blown up with sharp eyes, looking for any sign of the hero NightHawk. They were at it again— hero vs. villain in an epic showdown, and Antennes had just managed to get a good hit in that sent NightHawk flying into the rubble below. Not that he'd ever admit this, but it wasn't often that the villain got the upper hand on NightHawk, so he was taking time to soak up the success. Still, the hero wasn't down for the count yet, so he'd have to stay— oh... would you look at that... Turn's out he got a better hit than he thought, as NightHawk was currently slumped against a metal beam, unconscious, one of the yellow lenses on his mask cracked. Hesitantly, Antennes poked him in the shoulder. The man did nothing. Huh, well then. Antennes was none-too-happy to admit that he didn't actually know... what to do in this situation? Did he... capture the hero? Bring him to his 'spooky villain lair' or something? Sounded about right, he shrugged.

And that's how Antennes ended up with NightHawk slumped over his shoulder, making his way to his friend's apartment building.

It took a while for the hero to wake up, during which time Antennes was definitely not on the internet searching about when you should take an unconscious person to the hospital. With a groan, NightHawk opened his eyes slowly, dazedly flitting around the room before landing on Antennes. He let out another groan, closing his eyes. Rude.

"What? Not good enough for you?" The villain asked, feeling smug. Well, look at how the tables have turned! He took down the great and powerful NightHawk single-handedly! Wait until he tells Pam about this. The hero grunted.                                                                                                         

"Wh're 'm I?" He slurred. Was that a bad sign? Did he need a doctor? He'd look into it.                            

"Welcome to my lair, Hawk! This is where you'll be enjoying yourself for a little while." He smiled evilly, dropping his cape on the ground. There was silence. NightHawk stared at him blankly, brow quirked. 

"Wow. Really?" He said dryly. "I'm quaking." Antennes didn't allow himself to frown at that.  

"Oh, you should be. Now make yourself comfortable, Hawk. I'll be back." Antennes turned and strutted out of the room. Once outside of where he'd dumped the hero, he took a moment to think of what he should do now. It's not like he planned to capture the hero after all. He'd have to call Pam and ask for some help. He locked the door and pulled out his phone.

"I don't know, I didn't think this would happen!" He shouted into the phone. He'd called his friend Pam to ask for some advice about what to do with NightHawk and was seriously regretting it.                                                                                                    "Wha– No! I'm not– Pam, I don't want to torture him! What's wrong with you? Who's the real villain here?" He responded. He worried about this woman sometimes. He was silent as she spoke. He sighed.                                                                                                                                                    
"He's in the basement of your apartment building. I locked him in one of the storage rooms. Yes, your apartment! It's not like I actually have an evil lair. By the way, the basement is freezing. Is something up with the A/C? Huh. But seriously, I need your help. What can I do that's not torture? Hm... Yeah, that could work... Ok, thanks, Pam. Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good day at work. Bye."
He hung up, feeling drained. Alright, this was way more complicated than he thought it would be. Cracking his neck he pulled his mask back down over his eyes and went to the basement. Pam said that he could use this opportunity to get more information on NightHawks' powers and weaknesses, and he figured that was worth a shot. If nothing else he could just knock the hero out and dump him in a hotel– pretend the whole thing was a weird dream the hero had.

He unlocked the door and walked in, smirk firmly set in place as he expected to see NightHawk shivering in a corner. What he saw instead made him freeze mid-step, mouth wide open. The hero was there, and he was in a corner, but he wasn't shivering. Instead, he was tightly wrapped in the villain's cape, looking nice and snug as he leveled a glare in Antennes' direction. The villain's mind short-circuited. NightHawk's face was currently being framed by the soft blue fabric of the cape, a nice contrast to his pale skin and blond hair, his one exposed eye looking unnaturally bright. Oh, wow, Antennes never realized his eyes were green, the lenses of his mask usually tinted them, but now the one damaged lens had fallen out and onto the floor. He was snapped from his thoughts when the hero cleared his throat, a confused expression on his face, clearly waiting for something. Antennes shook his head, but the fog that had settled there wouldn't disperse. He looked away, feigning indifference as the hero pulled the cape tighter around himself. Antennes was feeling a strange, horrible feeling of... he wasn't sure what it was. His stomach was tingling and his heart was racing, and despite the cold, his face was growing warm. He was clearly ill, what else could cause these symptoms? NightHawk shuffled uneasily.

"Um, are you ok?"

Antennes glared at him. "No. Unfortunately, it would seem I'm dying, and it's probably your fault. Get up, you're leaving.

"Leaving," NightHawk repeated slowly. Antennes rolled his eyes.                                                        

"I'm letting you go? Releasing you? And.... take the cape with you. You drooled on it and I don't want it anymore." That was the story he was going with anyway. The hero stared at him, eyes wide with surprise and face pink. Antennes looked away as his heart seemed to stutter in his chest. Gods, he should go to a doctor, this didn't seem normal.

NightHawk eventually stood up, shuffling out of the villains 'lair' and disappearing into the night. Antennes scowled, unsure of what was wrong with him. He went back home and made a large cup of hot cocoa, turning on a random movie and searching 'why does my chest hurt?' on his laptop. Needless to say, he didn't find any answers that pertained to his situation.