Different [A Superhero AU] - Book One

Chapter Thirty-Two - The Anti-Hero HQ

Jack watches helplessly as Arin and Danny's combined form grabs Cry, doing their best to contain him as he struggles. Ryan holds Dan and Stephanie in place, giving the other anti-heroes the perfect opportunity to cover the eyes of their captives and get them towards their headquarters. Shrouded in darkness, Jack stumbles alongside Wade, who has a gun pressed to his back. The cool metal slices through his suit and causes him to shiver slightly.

"This is a real gun this time," he mutters. "I suggest you don't run."

Beside him, Jack can hear Cry cursing under his breath and fighting Arin and Danny's grip. The Irishman suspects that the only reason Cry hasn't gotten away is because those anti-heroes are ridiculously strong when they're together.

Jack hears the creak of a door and before he knows it, he's clumsily climbing down a flight of stairs. He eventually catches on to the rhythm of the steps, still stumbling a bit but not nearly as much.

"Last one," Wade says as Jack descends down another step. Sure enough, he arrives on flat ground. The thud of his boots against the ground echoes through the hallway, rays of light attempting to cut through the cloth over his eyes. The smells of pine and motor oil linger in the air, leading Jack to believe that somebody is probably tinkering with a vehicle. A door squeaks open and the villain is pushed down into a chair. A familiar sound, just with some extra scuffling, comes from beside him.

"Alright, you can take off their blindfolds," a new, unfamiliar voice says.

The shroud of darkness surrounding Jack disappears in an instant, the cloth falling from Wade's hand and to the floor with a flutter. Instantly he glances to Cry, who sits with his fists held so tightly around the chair that his knuckles are white. His jaw is clenched, and Jack can almost hear the grinding of his teeth.

"You're probably wondering why you're here," the unfamiliar anti-hero states, sitting down across from the two villains.

"Oh wow, going with that super typical line, aren't we?" Cry replies sarcastically.

"I wouldn't suggest being rude. After all, you are our prisoners," the man says.

Jack sighs. "Can you just tell us why we're here?"

The anti-hero nods. "Yes, yes. Well, my name is Bob, and I'm the brain behind the operation here. We believe that you two would be good additions to our team."

Cry scoffs. "As if we would join the anti-heroes." He leans forward in his chair, his mask hiding the true emotion on his face. "We're not going to roll over for you or your stupid operation."

The Irishman glances from his fellow villain to the other anti-heroes. Danny and Arin, who have now separated, stand against the far wall and watch the action unfold with Ryan, who looks more guilty about this than anyone else. Wade moves to stand beside Bob, his brown eyes flitting from Cry to Jack. The masked villain continuously pulls at the handcuffs that hold his wrists behind his back, and just watching it makes Jack feel tired. At least sitting is helping him feel less violently ill.

"Got anything to say, Jack?" Bob asks, turning towards the Irishman.

"Not really," he replies.

"Probably because you're siding with them just as much as you're siding with Curatrix," Cry snaps. "God, everyone turns against me, don't they?"

Jack scowls. "I'm not siding with Curatrix or the anti-heroes."

Cry scoffs.  "Sure."

"I'm not!"

Bob holds up his hands. "Woah, woah, woah! It seems you two have some issues to sort out."

The masked villain turns to face the anti-heroes. "It's none of your business!"

Jack sinks a little lower in his chair, wanting more than anything to disappear from the situation. Wade leans down and whispers something into Bob's ear, earning a nod from the man.

"We're going to try this again tomorrow. Arin and Danny, if you will."

The two anti-heroes step forward, lifting the villains from their chairs. A fresh wave of nausea floods Jack as he stands, making him sway.

"Bob?" Arin asks, narrowing his eyes. "I think he's sick."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Bob stands up and approaches him. The anti-hero presses a gentle hand to Jack's forehead, feeling his temperature. That's when he notices the sliver of bandages showing from under his suit.

"Can I check those bandages?" he asks. "I might have to unzip a bit of your suit."

Jack nods a little. The anti-hero, upon finding the small zipper on the back of his suit, opens the material and pulls it off just enough so he can see the bloodied, dirty bandages. After observing for a couple seconds, he purses his lips and zips it up again.

"Those cuts might be infected. Arin, get him to the cell. I'll check on him in a little bit," Bob says.

Arin nods in response, leading Jack from the room. Danny follows, leading a now much more silent Cry. They reach the room in a matter of moments and place the villains inside, locking the door behind them when they leave.

As soon as they're gone, Cry whips towards Jack. "How the hell did that happen?"

The Irishman lowers himself onto the bed, doing his best not to wince. "You don't know?"

"No! All I knew was that you were in trouble for not trying to escape Curatrix! I didn't know you were injured!"

"Your father ordered this!" Jack exclaims, the familiar anger bubbling in his gut. "He ordered my torture! It's been like this for days! How can you be so dense!?"

He pants, the yelling making it harder for him to breathe. He tries to keep the gasping at bay, but it's difficult. It seems that everything these days has the ability to set off his anxiety or hinder his ability to get air. Cry's tensed shoulders loosen slightly and he takes a tentative step forward.

"Are you okay?"

Jack shakes his head, his breathing becoming relatively normal again. "I've got this weight on my chest that I can't remove."  He presses a hand to the area over his heart.  "I've felt completely ill for the past couple of days and I feel like I'm drowning."

"Is it because of the injuries or Mark?"

Jack shrugs a little, lying down on the bed. The thought of Mark is enough to make the weight increase and his stomach churn. He bites his lip. "Honestly, I don't know."

Silence falls between the two of them. Cry nods a little before striding across the room and pulling open the dresser drawers. An array of grey, black, and white clothing lies inside, which is soon shifted through by the masked villain.  He pulls out a pair of grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt and tosses it to Jack, the material landing on the Irishman and causing him to sit up.  He takes the clothes in his hands, giving Cry a confused glance.

"We should probably get changed out of our suits," Cry states, pulling out some clothing for himself.

Jack nods and leans down slowly, untying his boots. Cry sits on his own bed and does the same, his brown hair falling into his face as he does. The Irishman glances over for a moment, observing the masked villain. Despite feeling utterly sick, a light smile finds its way onto his face.

"You know, we don't get kidnapped together very often," Jack comments, imitating a crappy sitcom housewife.

Cry laughs; a real, genuine laugh. "Oh, shut up, Jack."