Chapter Text
“Mysterion! No, no – no, come on wake up,” Chaos hissed as he shook Mysterion.
There was so much blood.
He tried not to panic, tugging his cape loose and tying it firmly around the metal pipe lodged into the vigilante’s side. Chaos grunted before moving to lift Mysterion into his arms.
“You’re not going to die on me.” The professor hissed.
Every second he wasted would only mean Mysterion’s life being more at risk. Maneuvering his way around the building proved a lot harder than it needed, but he couldn’t slow down.
Chaos closed his eyes as he concentrated, allowing his powers to take hold. Lighting surged from one of his hands and, in rapid succession, thrust his palm out to strike the wall. As it came crumbling down, he adjusted his grip on Mysterion and made his way through.
Leaves crunched underneath his foot. Chaos nearly jumped back in surprise before realization struck him.
They were outside.
What was he supposed to do with Mysterion? He couldn’t just leave him on the streets as he bled out nor were public hospitals an option. In the end, Chaos figured there were only two choices.
Either take Mysterion back to his lair or hand him off to the heroes.
“Alright, Myste, let’s get you taken care of,” the professor murmured.
His lair was a welcoming sight. Chaos sighed softly before going inside, bringing Mysterion to the med bay. He let out a tiny, noncommittal hum and laid the vigilante down on a metal table, getting to work on cleaning the wound. He’d known full well this might be dangerous, considering Chaos was not a trained doctor, but their identities being discovered was not something he was willing to take a shot at.
Not when there was a chance both of them got arrested.
Or worse.
After disinfecting and cleaning the area, Chaos exhaled sharply. His fingers latched onto the metal pipe, counting back from three, and roughly yanked it out.
“Oh, golly,” he muttered under his breath, pressing gauze against the wound. “I can do this.”
Chaos sucked in a dry breath as he carefully wrapped the area in bandages.
Mysterion’s chest slowly rising and falling was the only comfort he’d receive for some time. Deciding he would need time to recover, Chaos dragged a chair toward the cot and just sat there. He’d wait there for however long it took for Mysterion to wake back up.
As night began to settle, the vigilante’s condition still hadn’t changed.
With a begrudging sigh, he decided to leave Mysterion alone in favor of handling important work inside the lair. Chaos couldn’t think straight with his archnemesis like this.
It left him frustrated.
Only he could harm Mysterion like this.
“Boss,” one of his minions said, pulling Professor Chaos out of his thoughts, “aren’t you going home?”
“I’ll be out later tonight! Don’t worry about me,” he exclaimed, checking over the blueprints from one of his latest inventions, “you can head out now!”
Despite the initial hesitation, the minion sighed, “very well, sir.”
Time seemed to continue slowly and, as the hours passed on, the more visits Professor Chaos made toward the med bay. He needed the confirmation that Mysterion was still alive – breathing – lest he want everything to come crashing down.
Upon his fifth visit, everything took a sudden turn for the worse.
“Mys-” Chaos’ words remained stuck in the back of his throat. The monitor he’d hooked Mysterion to had gone haywire, the vigilante’s levels fluctuating in ways which should not affect a normal human. “Mysterion!”
Mysterion’s body jerked against the table, limbs twitching in what only could’ve been discomfort if he were conscious. Drool spilled from his mouth.
Chaos turned the vigilante onto his side, folding his cape up into a makeshift, cushioned pillow and placing it under Mysterion’s head. “C’mon, Myste, you’re alright,” he murmured and carefully wiped up the drool. “Just hold on a little– no no, you got to hold on.”
With a final convulsion, Mysterion went slack against the metal table.
It was finally over.
Chaos’ hands were balled into fists.
“You have to wake up, Mysterion,” he whispered, moving his hands to bunch them into the fabric of Mysterion’s hood. Professor Chaos shivered as his words ended in a quiet growl. “What am I supposed to do if you’re not here to stop me, hm?”
He didn’t get a response.
Mysterion was just as much part of his life as Professor Chaos had been to them. For him to be gone would completely ruin everything the supervillain worked to accomplish. All his attempts to have Mysterion join him.
They’d be unstoppable together.
If Mysterion ever woke up.
Chaos’ head rested against his arms as he continued watching the vigilante. He stayed there for a while until his eyelids started getting heavy. Before he knew it, the professor had dozed off.
“Chaos,” a voice hissed at him.
He stood on a railroad track, green mist swirling around him – barely able to see a thing – and walked forward.
“I’m still here. Just hold on, professor.”
It couldn’t be, could it?
He was hearing things. He had to be.
“Wait, ho-hold on!” Chaos shouted but he couldn’t see anything. It had to be a trick.
Mysterion couldn’t be here.
… right?
“Am- Am I dreaming?”
“Of course this is a dream, Chaos.”
“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered, “what am I supposed to do without you?”
Silence was his response.
Chaos jolted awake with a gasp, pressing a hand to his forehead. What did that dream even mean?
His eyes landed on Mysterion though the vigilante was still unconscious. Chaos checked his pulse, low but steadily thrumming. Relief washed over him in a matter of seconds – not that he would ever admit it out loud.
He continued replaying what he could remember from the dream.
If Mysterion were to vanish from his life, would he still continue villainy? Could one exist without the other?
Maybe… it was time to put this all to rest. At least until Mysterion woke up.
The city could wait.