Sightless

Chapter 3: The Mask Slips In More Ways Than One

  Spekter ate greedily, scarfing down whatever Ryan sat in front of him. Cold waffles, mushy waffles, burnt waffles, syrup-soaked waffles, the still-a-little-bit-green banana; It didn't matter what it was as long as it was food. Ryan said nothing as he poked at his own four waffles, wondering just how long it had been since the hero ate. Finally Spekter slowed, guzzling a glass of water till it was empty and setting it down with a gasp, leaning back in the chair with lidded eyes. Ryan quirked a brow.

"Hungry much?"
The hero tilted his head towards him. "Uh... what day is it?"
"Wednesday?"
"Oh. Yeah... It's been about a week since I last ate, then."
Ryan coughed, nearly choking. "A– A week?"
Spekter shrugged. Ryan gaped, unable to understand why the hero was acting so... casual about it.
"That... Why?"
"Well, that woman didn't exactly care about feeding me," Spekter mumbled, swirling his finger in the leftover syrup on his plate and licking it. Ryan scrubbed a hand over his face.
"Look, I get that it's sensitive or whatever, but what exactly happened to you? Whoever this lady is has some obvious beef with you. So who is she? Another villain of yours?"
"I don't know. It's not like she went on some sort of monologue while she beat and starved me."
Ryan shook his head. "Bullshit. That's a bullshit excuse."
"It's not an excuse–"
"It's a bullshit reason, then. Are you really gonna look at me and tell me that you have absolutely no idea who she is? That some random lady has this much hate toward you?" Spekter stared blankly toward the left of Ryan, who didn't realize his mistake until too late.

"Ah, fuck, fuck me– I didn't–" Spekter snorted.
"Don't laugh at me! Look–" Spekter grinned again and Ryan cursed.
"OK STOP! I get it! You can't see, Jesus! Let's just– You're ignoring my questions." Spekter chuckled, wiping his mouth.
"I don't know what you want me to say. It's true, I don't know who she is, and I don't want to talk about it."
"Well, you're gonna need to talk eventually. You can't keep quiet forever."
"Look, I appreciate your help, I do, but I'm an adult and I can make my own decisions." Spekter said stubbornly.
"Hah, right. Look, however old you are, I don't–"
"I'm twenty." Spekter interrupted.
"I– What?" Ryan faltered, any steam he'd built up during their conversation suddenly gone.
"You don't know how old I am. I'm twenty." Fucking excuse me?
"You're a baby?!"
Spekter let out an affronted sound. "No! I said I'm twenty, not two."
"I'm fourty-seven, kid. You're a baby compared to me. Fuck–" I've been fighting a fucking baby this whole time, Ryan thought in shock.
"I'm not a baby! I'll be turning twenty-one in nine months, and I'm more than capable of making decisions on my own." Spekter glared off toward the back wall, arms crossed. Ryan stared at him, noticing for the first time how young and worn-down the hero looked. Twenty... He couldn't even legally drink yet and he was running around fighting to keep the city safe from people twice his age, being captured and blinded and whatever else by the woman who'd kidnapped him. Shouldn't he be a... a sidekick to someone or something? He sighed, sliding his plate over to the hero, not feeling very hungry anymore.

"Look, I'm not trying to insult you, not this time, at least. It's just- I always thought you were in your mid-to late-twenties, at least" Spekter nodded.
"It's fine. A lot of people think that. The mask makes it hard to tell, I guess."
"It's not just the mask." Ryan muttered. Spekter picked his head up.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that it's not just the mask that make people think that. It's... the way you act. The way you hold yourself. Hell, even now that I know, I bet it'd be pretty easy to forget." Actually, it wouldn't be, but he was a villain and thus had no problems lying at least a little. Spekter hummed, staying silent. Neither said anything for a while. Then;

"Uh, by the way, I've been meaning to ask. Do you have anyone I can call?" Ryan questioned as casually as he could.
Spekter stared. "Call?"
"Yeah, y'know, for you. Like a friend or teammate... a girlfriend or whatever. Someone who knows you." Spekter shook his head.
"No, I don't."
Ryan quirked a brow. "Seriously? No one? Not even, like, a grandparent or aunt? Distant cousin?"
"No, I don't. Why? Is this about my age again?" Ryan shook his head.
"No, not that. I was just... wondering." Spekter didn't say anything, walking slowly to the couch and sitting down. Great, so Ryan was really on his own here. Perfect. This was bound to go well. After all, he'd only forgotten the kid was blind a few times, how bad of a caretaker could he be? God, he wasn't cut out for this shit. He cleared the table, washing the dishes and taking a despondent peek into the fridge and pantry. Yup, empty. Great. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't just leave the hero (the kid. God, this whole time he's been fighting a kid) here alone, could he? He'd have to talk about it with the guy. He finished cleaning and then walked over to Spekter, who was struggling with the buttons on the remote.