Chapter Text
Maybe.
Just maybe.
If he said yes, if he just pretended long enough to like the cage he was being forced in, he just might be able to catch Hotguy off guard and fly far, far away.
Far, far away.
The door opened again, a large patch of golden light breaking through the dark floor, a silhouette in the smack middle.
“Hotguy?”
“You came to an answer?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Grian swallowed the bitter feelings rising up in his throat, telling himself that it was just a facade and muttered, “Y-Yes. My answer is yes.”
“What was that?” Hotguy brought a hand to his ear and pretended to be straining to hear him. Ugh, that bastard.
“Yes. I said yes! Damn it, isn’t that what you wanted to hear?” He growled.
“I heard you the first time, was just teasing.” He giggled. His footsteps receded and the door shut again.
Ah, so he was still going to leave him in this dingy, old place.
“I’m back!” He sang out. Grian looked up at him. He was holding a bundle of something. Of what, he didn’t know. It was pink and black. “I had Cu— I mean, boss, make this for you.”
“… in just five minutes?”
“Well, no. I had these made since yesterday because I was so sure you’d agree! I mean it’s not like you have a choice anyway.” He chuckled awkwardly, shifting the bundle to one arm and untying Grian with the other, “Don’t even think about escaping, it won’t end well.”
Grian huffed in response. He will escape and it will end well for him. The rope digging into his arms disappeared and relief flooded over his senses. He did not like being tied up. It made him feel vulnerable. He needed to be able to defend himself at all times. Being tied up did not able him to do so.
“Your first patrol is today under my supervision.” Hotguy rested a hand on his shoulder and he almost wanted to recoil but he remained glued to his spot. “Change into your suit.” One gentle squeeze and he left, turning on the flicker lightbulb dangling weakly from the roof and closing the door behind him.
Oh, so that bundle was his suit. He picked it up. There were two separate pieces of clothing. One was a black turtleneck tank top, the other was a pair of pink shorts. Something grazed against his legs and he looked down. There was a pair of long, black boots. And there was a mask, too, meant to only cover the upper half of his face, in the same colour as the outfit.
He didn’t know whether he found the outfit revolting or… just fine.
Nonetheless he wore it because did he really have any choice?
How did Hotguy get the perfect size for him? He had many questions about Hotguy and the longer he pondered on the potential answers, the more confused he felt do he decided to leave it be.
Knock knock
“Uh, are you done?” Hotguy’s voice rang out, his knuckles rapping against the door with a barely concealed urgency.
At first he nodded but then realised Hotguy, obviously, could not see him. “Y-yeah.”
The door creaked open once again and Hotguy’s poked in, “Great! Come on.” He held the door open, looking expectantly at Grian who was fixed in one spot, his fists clenched tightly. Hotguy tilted his head in concern and Grian sighed, taking baby steps towards the door.
When he was finally out the cell, Hotguy slammed the door shut and grabbed his wrist, dragging him outside, halting suddenly when a man Grian didn’t recognise appeared in front of him.
“Cu—” Hotguy exclaimed, stopping himself as he realised Grian was there, “Boss!”
“Hotguy.” The Boss sighed, exasperated, “I thought I told you to take this with you… ten times.” He was holding up a simple, black band and an earpiece.
“I counted and it was only eight times so…” Still he took the band and turned towards Grian, “You have to wear this. Boss will be keeping a track of you through this.” He grabbed Grian’s wrist once again and slipped the band down his wrist. The second the band got comfortable on his wrist it tightened, not tight enough to cause pain but tight enough for Grian to be constantly reminded of its existence.
He tried clawing and tugging at it but it was stubborn. He looked back up at that boss guy who didn’t even look mildly surprised. “It’s for until we are able to trust you, you know?”
“Right.” He let out a shaky breath. The cage was growing more constricting with each passing second and he was growing anxious that he might not be able to escape in time. He took the earpiece from the boss’s hand and inserted it in his ear.
“Hotguy do come up with a code name for him.” And with that the boss disappeared.
“Ooh, he’s right! We do need a code name for you.” Hotguy clapped his hands together and flashed him a toothy grin, “What about…” he scratched his chin in thought until his eyes practically glowed and he pointed finger guns at Grian, “Cuteguy!”
“Nope. Not a chance.” He batted away his fingers.
“But it fits you.” He protested. “You’re a guy and you’re cute!”
For both their sakes, Grian chose to ignore that last part and hoped that Hotguy didn’t notice the red creeping up in his cheeks. They were finally outside. Blinding sunlight hit his face and he had to squint his eyes.
“You can fly right?” Hotguy asked, cracking his knuckles and hand going to the bow tucked in his belt
“Uh yeah but question: Why am I not given a weapon?”
“Boss doesn’t trust you enough to not turn on me. Don’t worry, you only have to spot the danger and let me take care of it. You’re going to be my eyes in the sky and were going to communicate through these.” He tapped his ear and instantly Grian flinched at the crackling sound produced in his own ear. “Sorry, Cuteguy! I didn’t mean to, I— sorry.”
“Yeah, no.” He plastered a fake grin, “It’s okay.” He rubbed his ear and spread his wings. They caught the sunlight and glowed ethereally. Grian looked at Hotguy and found him staring. He wanted to point it out but then again, for both their sakes he didn’t.
He kicked off, relaxing as he felt the wind caress his face. How he missed flying and stretching his wings. Just to further get into the feeling of flying, he spun around and when he noticed Hotguy staring at him once again, he did some fancier moves.
Alright that was enough showing off for today.
Now time to do the job or well, give Hotguy the illusion that he was. Just long enough until he found a means to get rid of that stupid band and escape.
He flew the length of the streets, eyes scanning for anything unnatural and the cogs in his brain turning to formulate an escape plan. Everything was peaceful. People were busy in their own routines, not paying any regards to anyone around them.
And it didn’t take long for Grian to fall into boredom. It was the lack of action. There wasn’t much that made his heart pound and blood rush to his brain. There was no excitement.
“So anything?” Hotguy’s voice crackled in his ear. He jumped and let out a squeak, having had forgotten the earpiece entirely.
“Nope.” He muttered.
“‘Kay.”
Surely nothing was going to go wrong during the time he’d take a break for himself, right? He sat down at the edge of a rather tall building, his legs dangling over the city that looked nothing more than a mismatched patchwork quilt, sewn clumsily. He rested his head on his hands, kicking the air slightly.
Would his teeth be sharp enough to break the band?
He brought his wrist to his arm and dug his teeth in the band, recoiling as a bitter taste settled on his tongue. Hotguy’s boss really thought things through. Groaning and spitting as he tried to get the taste to leave his mouth, he heard a scream and instantly stood up, eyes scanning for any sign of trouble. He jumped off the building and spread his wings, taking flight once again. That scream sounded raw and scared. It made him feel scared.
It didn’t take long to find the origin of the scream. A dark, secluded alley. A small girl no older than 7 being dragged by a man who just possibly could not be her father towards a car parked at the end.
He pressed a finger to his earpiece and whispered, “Trouble where I am. Get the coordinates from the tracker.”
But Hotguy wouldn’t arrive in time.
He ducked down and landed in front of the man, puffing his wings to look as menacing as possible and curling his hands into fists. “Let her go.”
“Mind your own business.” He tried pushing past Grian but Grian grabbed his arm, digging his nails into his flesh.
“You let her go or else we’ll see just how much filth runs in your blood.” He snarled.
The man chuckled and wheezed, “Who are you, Hotguy? Whatcha gonna do to me?”
He pushed the man with all his force, watching him topple backwards. Grian grabbed the girl before she could fall. “Stay behind me, okay?”
She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes and falling down the tear tracks etched into her cheeks.
No child deserved to be taken away like this. No child deserved to lose everything they had. No child had to be alone in such a situation just like Grian was all those years ago. But unlike Grian who had no one to protect him, this little girl had him.
He lunged forwards and punched the man in the face, smiling when he heard a crunch. He was always good with his fists.
The man howled but didn’t back down, he pounced on Grian and pinned him to the ground. He’d have fully crushed Grian under his weight had Grian’s legs not been between them, holding him up. He flapped his wings and hit the man across the face with them. Using this distraction, Grian managed to stand up, ready to strike again.
“Cuteguy!”
He looked around to see Hotguy, bow and arrow in his hands. As if working in synchronisation, he ducked at the same time Scar fired, the arrow piercing the man’s arm.
“I’ll get him to the police, get the kid to her parents.” Hotguy ordered.
Grian scooped the girl up in his arms and bolted out of the alley. “Kid, can you see your parents?” He asked her.
She pointed to a frantic woman searching for something or someone. “Mother.”
“Okay.” He let go of her and watched her run to her mother. The two hugged each other and sobbed.
Just seeing that interaction made Grian feel something he could not recognise.
She turned around and pointed to Grian, leading her mother towards him.
“Oh you’re a hero. Thank you for saving my little girl.” She grabbed his hands and weeped. In an alternate universe she’d be weeping over her lost daughter but in this universe, Grian prevented that from happening.
He was… a hero.
A hero.
People weren’t looking at him with fear or hatred but with adoration and respect. It felt nice. He felt nice.
A hand settled on his shoulder and he turned around to see Hotguy beaming at him. “Good job, Cuteguy.”
He mirrored his grin.
“Come on, let’s go.” The two pushed through the crowd buffeting them and onto the path back. “Do you have any place to go? Home?”
His home was one he could no longer return to.
But he had rented an apartment meant to be his, Jimmy and Joel’s new hideout but they never got a chance to turn it into one, and never will. He had the key on him. Always on him. But everything had been confiscated.
“I had a key leading to my home but it was… taken away… by you.”
“Oh!” Hotguy’s hands rummaged in his pockets until he pulled out a golden key, “So this is what this led to. Here.” He handed him the key.
“Thanks.”
“How does it feel to have people look up to you?” Hotguy smiled at him and wrapped an arm over his shoulders. Grian didn’t have the strength in him to pull away.
“It feels nice to know I’m not entirely terrible. It feels nice to be a hero.” He whispered.
The two continued to walk in silence until Grian heard something that made him look up. Two familiar voices.
He saw Joel and Jimmy sitting around a table outside a restaurant, worry carved into both of their faces.
Grian felt a pang in his heart. He wanted to return to them. Yet he couldn’t. The tracker and Hotguy made sure of that.
He wanted his only friends back.
That’s all he wanted.
But his own joy didn’t matter. It was nothing compared to the lives of the people he would have to save.