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#guard literally breaking out a citywide threat directly from the heroes' hq
nami-writes · 1 year
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[ an apple | a day | (keeps the doctor) away ]
and the trilogy is complete!
content warnings: starvation, begging, panic attack, bad caretaker (but he's trying!)
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They’re out.
After spending an hour painstakingly convincing Villain to swipe the keycard off the doctor, speeding through the city as far as they could get from the Heroes’ headquarters, they finally step into the apartment, Guard securely locking and deadbolting the door shut behind them.
Villain looks distant, not quite grounded in the reality of his newfound freedom. His knuckles are turning white from gripping the keycard so tightly, as if letting go will put him right back in his cell. He stands by the door motionless but just the sight of Villain in front of a wall not made of drab concrete makes Guard finally realize how far they’ve gotten.
They did it.
“We did it,” he says aloud just to let it sink in. “Holy shit. We did it.”
Villain’s eyes stare blankly ahead and he fidgets with the keycard, turning it over in his trembling hands without ever looking at it, bending it harshly. He doesn’t even seem to notice until the card snaps apart.
“Sorry,” he mutters, the first word he's said since they got in the car. “I’ll… I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“You don't want dinner?”
Villain starts toward the couch. “No, sir.”
One day Guard has to tell him he doesn't need to call him that. Today, though, Villain’s malnourishment is the bigger issue. “You look like you're going to collapse any minute. You need to eat.”
Villain doesn't respond as he lies down.
“I'll start dinner and let you know when it's ready.”
He comes to the table when called but only sits there staring down at his food, poking idly at it with his fork. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t excuse himself from the table. Just sits there.
“What’s wrong?” Guard asks.
“Nothing.” Yeah, he expected as much.
“Come on. You’re finally getting a good, non-prison food meal, and you’re not eating it but nothing’s wrong?” He crosses his arms. “I don’t buy it.”
Villain’s fork stills. “Sick,” he mumbles.
“You still feel sick?”
He gives a small nod. “‘M sorry. I’m… I’m wasting your food.”
“No, I don’t mind. I get it, you’re still used to tiny rations of prison food,” he says. “The only thing I have a problem with is the lying.”
Villain shrinks into himself, head hung pitifully. “S-sorry. I’m— I’m sorry, sir.”
Maybe he should’ve saved this conversation for later. Confronting him now is just making him more anxious than he needs to be. “It’s fine. I’m not mad. I just… don’t like being lied to when I’m trying to help you, you know?”
“Yes sir,” he answers shakily. “Yes sir, I understand.” He manages to fork one bite of food into his mouth like that’ll be enough to satisfy Guard. “Can, can I go now?”
Villain can’t possibly be full but Guard has caused him enough anxiety tonight. “Yeah. Sure. You don’t need permission.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He doesn’t look up once as he makes his way back to the couch. Guard doesn’t end up eating much of his dinner either.
Guard wakes up to the sound of the door jiggling and his first instinct is to jump out of bed and rush downstairs. Someone’s trying to break in. He should’ve changed out those millennia-old locks ages ago, he knew they wouldn’t have held up much longer.
When he flicks on the lights, however, the supposed burglar turns out to be Villain, frozen in place as Guard stares him down.
“What are you doing?”
“I-I’m sorry,” Villain stammers, taking a step away from the door. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to try and sneak out, I didn’t, I just, I—”
Sneak out?
Guard steps forward but Villain stumbles back, hands searching behind him for somewhere to hide. What he finds instead is the shelf in the corner that holds Guard’s video games. “Please,” he says on the verge of tears, “please, I’m sorry, I-I should’ve, I should’ve asked permission, I s-should’ve—”
His breathing grows erratic and Guard realizes— he’s hyperventilating. “Hey. Shit, hey— it’s fine. It’s fine. I’m not mad. Slow down, breathe, it’s fine.”
He steps toward Villain but Villain only steps backward into the shelf, seeming to not even notice the wooden ledges digging into his back. It’s only when he finds nowhere else to go that he makes a run for the stairs.
“Villain!”
Guard starts to chase him but Villain yanks a chair behind him and clumsily jumps the dining table, knocking the vase on top over with a crash before scrambling up the stairs. Guard only stares at the mess of ceramic shards and water.
God damn it.
He’s torn between going after him and cleaning up the mess to avoid either of them slipping or getting hurt, but only for a moment. Upstairs he can hear frantic footsteps and a door slamming. Now he’s mad. It’s two in the fucking morning and he has neighbors and now a mess to clean too, but that’s not going to help calm Villain down and if he doesn’t calm him down he might just hurt himself.
This is stupid. He should be asleep. But he still sidesteps the broken vase and the chair on the floor and dashes upstairs to the only room with a closed door.
It’s blocked off. It opens maybe an inch but something heavy on the other side stops it. “Villain, I know you’re in there! Move this out of the way, I just want to talk.”
Villain sniffles between sobs on the other side of the door. Footsteps patter back and forth. He’s pacing. A bang sounds out, something hitting the wall. Mumbles Guard can’t make out.
“Villain, come on. I’m not gonna hurt you. Promise.”
There’s a loud, plasticky squeak and Guard realizes— this room has a window.
“Villain!” He bangs on the door and tries to shove whatever’s on the other side away. “Villain, I’m serious! Don’t do whatever I think you’re about to do! Villain, I swear—”
Silence. Almost so much that Guard thinks Villain really jumped out until he hears a sniffle behind the door. Wood drags on wood and the door falls open with Guard’s weight. He catches himself just in time.
The window is open and Villain is nowhere in sight. Guard has to turn around to find him cowering on the floor behind the closet blocking the door. He’s trembling so hard Guard can see it from where he stands and his face is hidden in his knees.
“Jesus,” Guard breathes. His heartbeat begins to slow with relief. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I-I’m sorry.” He doesn’t lift his head but his voice shakes with fear. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t stop apologizing, almost robotically. Like he thinks if he proves he’s sorry enough he’ll be spared whatever punishment he thinks he’s going to receive. “Look, just— don’t worry about it. I accept your apology. You’re good.” He grits his teeth only a little bit. He’s just tired, he tells himself. “I was just scared you were going to jump out the window.”
Villain doesn’t stop apologizing. “I shouldn’t have run, I, I’m sorry sir, I should’ve, should’ve been g-good, should’ve… I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry…”
“Did you hear what I said?” he asks. It comes off as snappy but he doesn’t mean for it to. Maybe it’s good, though— it catches Villain’s attention fast. “I accepted your apology, okay? That means you don’t need to apologize anymore.”
He lifts his head just the tiniest bit. “...You’re not mad?”
Guard considers lying. It won’t do either of them any good, though. “I am mad. I’m upset that you made a mess in my kitchen and woke me up and probably my neighbors too.” He can see how much Villain tenses. “But I’m also tired, and it’s not that serious. I’m just worried about you and I haven’t slept enough to have my shit fully together yet.”
“...Oh.” He stares in disbelief. “I, um… I’m sorry. Sir. For making you worry. I-I’ll clean up the mess downstairs, I won’t do it again, I’ll be quiet even if you— if you punish me now.”
“No punishment, Villain. It’s not that bad,” he says. “Just get some sleep. If I’m tired, you must be exhausted. I’ll clean up.”
“But I made the mess. I… I b-broke your, your vase.”
Guard frowns. “Cleaning up isn’t a punishment for either of us. I just don’t want anyone to slip or get hurt.”
“Then I’ll help,” he perks up, then hesitates. “If— if you allow it. Sir.”
“You sure? You can go to sleep if you want. I won’t be mad at you for that.”
He nods. “I’ll help clean up.”
“Can I ask something you might not want to answer?”
Villain looks up from where he’s cleaning up the spilled water. “Yes, sir.”
“Were you really trying to sneak out?”
He averts his eyes back to the wet paper towels on the floor. “I, um…”
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I just… want to know if something’s wrong. So I can help.”
“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to lie about that, sir,” he mumbles. “I just— I was s-scared, I didn’t, I didn’t want to be, um, in t-trouble, for trying to…”
“I get it. It’s fine, I’m not upset,” he says. “It’s just that I don’t understand why. It’s not safe for you outside. Why do you want to leave?”
Villain wipes up the water. He pretends to be too focused on the task at hand to answer just yet. Finally, he shrugs. “I’m still a villain.”
Oh.
It's guilt.
“Where were you going to go?”
There’s only one possible answer to that question. Only one place would ever actively want him. Villain doesn’t even need to answer.
“You can stay here as long as you want, you know. You’re safe here.”
Villain doesn’t respond so Guard leaves it at that. A reassurance of his safety. He empties his dustpan into the trash can, ceramic crunching as it falls, and leans it against the wall with the broom. “You gonna be okay finishing up on your own?”
“I guess.”
“Okay.” Guard picks up the fallen chair and makes his way to the stairs. “Call for me if you need me, okay?”
Villain nods. “Yes, sir.”
“Night.”
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