Different [A Superhero AU] - Book One

Chapter Thirty-Three - The Pain of Separation

Mark paces back and forth across the break room, muttering to himself under his breath. Every time he allows his mind to wander to Jack, guilt grips him. They had gotten out before the battle had become too bad, but at what cost?

Matthias enters the room and Mark stops pacing instantly, waiting anxiously for the news from the fight. The other heroes grow attentive as well, watching the man.

Matthias adjusts his glasses, his face solemn. "The anti-heroes are stronger than any of us would have guessed. They may not have the strongest powers, but they're cunning."

Mark blinks a few times, hearing his words but not wanting to believe the message he's implying.  "There's no way."

"Both of them. Jack and Cry were both kidnapped," Matthias confirms.

The red-haired hero swallows. Why does he care so much? The anti-heroes are known for not injuring their prisoners, but for whatever reason, he feels a surge of anger when he thinks about Jack in captivity. He doesn't want to admit that most of that anger stems from him missing the villain like someone misses air when they've been underwater too long. He needs answers. Does Jack really hate him? Were those lies or truths?

He turns, leaving the room and stepping into the hallway. There, he sinks to the floor and buries his face in his knees. A pang of heart-wrenching sadness races through him, sending him to the verge of tears.

"I need to stop. I'm being ridiculous," he thinks, clenching his hand into a fist.  "I don't love him."

He pictures the villain in his head, with hair as green as summer grass and eyes as blue as Californian waters. When he remembers it, he can almost feel Jack's warmth on his side. He remembers how long its been since they last spoke.

"I do not love him,"  he reminds himself.  "I can't."

A strangled sob escapes him and he claps a hand over his mouth, hoping that nobody heard. Unfortunately for him, Marzia steps out of the room a moment later and settles beside him.

"Mark, what's wrong?" she asks gently.

He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "Nothing, I'm fine."

"You can tell me anything. I won't tell the others if it makes you feel less manly or something like that."

Mark chuckles lightly for a second before returning to his previous state.  "I miss Jack. I want to see him again."

Marzia nods, smiling a little. "What do you like about him?"

Before he knows it, Mark is going on and on about Jack. He lists every little endearing thing about him, every personality trait that makes the hero's heart thump out of his chest, plus everything that Anti said, and every reason why they could never even be friends, or something more than friends. He stops talking when he realizes that he has tears pouring down his face.

"Oh God, sorry," he stammers, wiping the moisture away.

Marzia leans over and hugs him. "If he means that much to you, you'll find a way."

Mark nods, hugging back. "Thanks for listening to the unloading of my emotional baggage."

The Italian girl laughs. "You're welcome."

With that, she gets to her feet and heads into the room again, leaving Mark to sit on the floor with his thoughts.

—

As soon as Jack is adequately dressed in the sweats and t-shirt, he settles into the bed. Instead of closing his eyes, however, he stares at the ceiling, pondering. A creak from Cry's bed sounds, signifying that he too has settled down. Now that everything is quiet, Jack's mind wanders to Mark. He misses his laugh, his deep, dark eyes, his fiery red hair. The fact that the hero probably hates him and never wants to see him again makes his heart squeeze uncomfortably.

Before his thoughts can get too much deeper or darker, the door of the cell opens. Both men sit upright, watching Bob enter the room.

"I'm here to check that chest of yours," he states. "Wanna sit up nice and straight for me?"

Jack nods and sits on the edge of the bed, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. Bob pulls a chair to the bedside and sits down, gingerly unwrapping the bandages and revealing red, enflamed cuts. A few of them bleed while others ooze discharge, making Bob sigh and click his tongue.

"These are definitely infected. I may know the solution, however, to help ease the pain and get rid of the infection."

"How do you know how to heal him?" Cry asks, moving a little closer.

Bob chuckles and taps his temple. "Super-brain, kiddo."

The masked villain nods and backs up so Bob can stand. The man walks to the bathroom, rummaging around in the medicine cabinet before returning with some ibuprofen and other assorted medical supplies. He applies the medicine gently but Jack still winces. Bob apologizes, cleaning the wounds and applying new, fresh bandages. He hands Jack an ibuprofen pill, which the villain reluctantly swallows.

"When I first got these, one of the other villains did the same thing. Why did they get infected?" Jack asks.

"Probably dirty bandages or you weren't being careful and banged them up a bit," the anti-hero replies almost instantly. "Get some sleep. You'll start feeling better really soon."

The Irishman nods and Bob leaves. Cry returns to his bed and flips onto his side, running his thumb over the chin of his mask.  Jack has learned over the years that when he does that, it's a sure sign that he's thinking. 

Jack lies back on the bed, staring at the ceiling and letting his thoughts return to Mark.