Chapter Text
“Fortunately, though the fire left the building completely destroyed, there were no deaths, thanks to efforts of the city fire department and our mysterious masked hero, The Guardian Angel. While firefighters fought the blaze and helped people out of the ground floors, the winged hero rescued those trapped on the upper floors, resulting in all 28 people working in the office that day being saved with only a few minor injuries among them. Once again, the Guardian Angel has declined comment and left the scene as soon as they were satisfied that all parties were safe. This brings the total number of Angel rescues in the past month alone up to eight, leaving many people wondering “who is this winged being?” While many have speculated, one thing is still clear. The Guardian Angel is here to protect us, and I for one feel much safer on the streets knowing he’s watching over us! This is Patton Hart for Channel Ten News, signing off.”
Patton didn’t know what was happening. His head was throbbing painfully in time to his heartbeat and a shroud of darkness surrounded him, leaving him with no clue as to where he was or how he’d gotten there. He let out a quiet groan, and shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. The last thing he remembered was walking out of the news station after his last broadcast, looking for a sandwich shop. He was approached by someone he didn’t recognize…after that it was all a blur.
Without warning, a blinding flash of light assaulted his senses and he flinched back, trying to raise up his hands to shield his eyes. It was then that he realized that his wrists were shackled to the arms of a metal chair, and a quick experimental tug revealed that his ankles were bound in a similar way. Patton squinted against the light, trying to discern something, anything about where he was, but he saw nothing but vague figures moving in the shadows just beyond where the light was shining into his eyes.
“H-hello?” he called, trying to keep his voice from trembling. “Wh-who’s there? What do you want?”
“Patton Hart,” said a voice from the shadows, and Patton felt his blood run cold at the speaker’s low, threatening tone. “You have something that I want.”
“What are you-” Patton’s question died in his throat as an enormous man stepped out of the shadows and filled his field of vision.
“This is what is going to happen,” the voice continued. “I am going to ask you questions. You are going to answer them. If you do not answer to my satisfaction, or you refuse to cooperate, then my colleague here is going to suggest that you reconsider. Are we clear?”
“I, I don’t understand, why-”
Wordlessly, the thug in front of him struck a blow across Patton’s face with the back of his hand. Patton cried out in pain, gasping as the world spun around him.
“Are. We. Clear?” the voice asked again, and Patton nodded shakily.
“Y-yes,” he stammered.
“Good.” The voice sounded pleased with itself. “Now. Down to business.” There was a beat of silence, and Patton felt himself tense up. What did these people want with him?
“You have had frequent encounters with the winged vigilante known as The Guardian Angel,” they continued eventually, and Patton blinked in surprise. Was that what this was about? “Yes or no?” the voice pressed, and Patton nodded quickly as the thug started to move towards him.
“Yes, yes. Yes, I’ve met him.”
“How many times?”
“Umm….” Patton looked up, trying to think. “Lot’s of times. I can’t think of every separate instance, except maybe when I met him, after he saved me from the bus crash. Why do you-”
The thug hit him again, this time in the stomach, and Patton doubled over in his chair.
“I am asking questions, you are answering,” the voice said cooly.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Patton coughed out, blinking back tears.
“How do we find him?”
“I– what?”
A frustrated sigh, then Patton found himself staring at his reflection in the blade of a large knife the thug pulled from his belt.
“My patience is wearing thin, Mr. Hart. You are one of the only people in the city who has encountered the so called Guardian Angel more than a few times, and the ONLY person who has met with him one-on-one outside of a crisis situation. You must know how to find him. So. How do we find him?”
“I don’t know,” Patton admitted. “No, please! It’s true, I swear, please!” The thug paused with his knife pressed against Patton’s throat, and the voice spoke.
“Mr. Hart, you have about ten seconds to convince me before I decide to stop wasting my time with you.”
“I don’t find him,” Patton rushed to explain. “He, he finds me, most of the time. On our third meeting, I asked if I would see him again and he sort of looked at me and said “perhaps,” and then I started seeing him more and more around the city. I don’t know how to find him on purpose.”
The pressure on Patton’s neck eased slightly, and he suddenly found himself feeling very brave.
“And even if I knew where he was, I…I wouldn’t tell you.”
Patton almost expected another blow at that, but to his surprise, the thug took a step back and the stranger from the darkness spoke again, amusement dancing at the edge of their voice.
“Oh really now? It is a shame you feel that way, Mr. Hart, because that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”
“Wha– what are you talking about?”
“The Guardian Angel is an extremely cautious, secretive person. The fact that he has shown himself to you on multiple occasions is an indication that he has decided you are worth trusting. You will see him again, Mr. Hart, and when you do, you are going to ask him who he is or how to find him again. He will tell you, because he trusts you. You are then going to relay that information to us.”
“I…” Patton took a deep breath, then shook his head. “No. No, I won’t.”
He froze as he found the knife at his throat again, but he forced himself to keep his head up and his eyes dry.
“This is not a request, Mr. Hart, I trust you understand that?”
“I do,” Patton said, trying to move his throat as little as possible as he talked. “And I…I still won’t do it. I don’t care what you do to me, I won’t betray him like that. I won’t let you find him.”
Patton felt the pressure on his neck increase, and he closed his eyes, expecting the worst.
“Your stubborn sense of selflessness is quite tiring,” his captor said with a sigh, and the knife drew away from him suddenly. Patton cracked open one eyelid to see the thug sheathing the weapon and moving away. “But, it was not unplanned for,” the shadowy voice continued, and the thug returned with a small table and a laptop.
He set the device down in front of Patton, then opened it, angling the monitor towards him so he could see…
Patton’s breath caught in his throat.
“This is your roommate, Virgil Foster?”
Patton nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. It showed Virgil, standing on the street outside their shared apartment, looking down at his phone with a worried expression. Patton suddenly became aware that his own cell phone was missing…had Virgil tried to call him? How long had Patton been missing?
“This is a live feed from one of my operatives,” the voice continued. “She’s the best sniper I have on call.” The camera shifted slightly to show the end of a gun barrel casually aimed in Virgil’s direction. “One word, and she pulls the trigger.”
“No!” Patton cried, leaning forward as far as his bonds would allow. “You can’t, please, you can’t! Virgil’s never done anything wrong, he doesn’t know anything, you can’t, please…” Patton’s vision swam with tears as he tugged uselessly at the ties on his wrist, as if he could somehow stop all of this by reaching the laptop.
“It’s a simple trade,” his captor declared. “You lead us to the Guardian Angel, I call off my sniper.”
“I don’t know how to find him, please, you have to believe me…”
“Fire on my count,” the voice said, almost sounding bored. “Five, four, three–”
“Alright, alright!” Patton sobbed. “I’ll find a way, just leave him alone, please!”
“Hold,” the villain said, and Patton sagged in relief as the barrel in the video lowered. “You have three days. We’ll be watching.”
Patton saw something move in the corner of his eye, then he felt a sharp prick on his neck and the world went dark.
When he woke up, he was lying alone on the roof of an abandoned apartment complex. As he pushed himself into a sitting position, he felt a foreign object in his pocket. He reached in and pulled out a throwaway cell phone. A quick check of the phone revealed one message from an unknown number:
Call when you find him. You have 3 days.
Patton curled into a ball with his legs drawn up to his chest and stared out at the city skyline. The last tinges of a sunset were streaked across the sky, illuminating the buildings with a soft, orange glow. It was, simply put, beautiful.
Patton wished he could enjoy it.
One tear slipped down his cheek, then two, then he was burying his face in his knees, his shoulders shaking with sobs. He knew he should get up, he knew he should find his way back home, Virgil had to be so worried about him, but he just couldn’t bring himself to move. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything but cry.
“Patton?!” a voice cried, and Patton lifted his head in time to see a silhouette land on the roof in front of him, large black wings briefly blocking the sun before they were folded back.
The Guardian Angel himself.
“Patton, thank god you’re alright.”
The top half the hero’s face was covered by a mask, hiding some of his expressions, but the relief at seeing Patton was clear in his voice, and something about that made Patton want to cry even harder.
“I’ve been searching for hours…you didn’t show up back for work after lunch, and then when you didn’t make it home…people know you’re not the type to just disappear like that; we’ve been looking for you everywhere, and–” the hero paused, noticing as Patton’s eyes welled up with yet more tears. His gaze traveled over Patton’s hunched form, lingering on the bruises on Patton’s wrists and over his right eye.
“Patton?” he asked again, his voice softer. “What happened?”
“I…” Patton sniffled, and stared up at the city’s hero. “Why me?”
“What do you-”
“Why me?” Patton asked again, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Why did you pick me to care about? Why trust me? I’m nobody special!” The hero opened his mouth, as if to argue, but Patton pushed onward. “There’s thousands of people in this city, but you kept coming back to me, and now because of you, I, he’s…they’re going to…” he choked on a sob, and buried his head back in his knees, ashamed to be crying like this in front of the Guardian Angel of all people, but too tired to hold himself back.
A warm hand rested on his knee, and Patton looked up to see the Guardian kneeling in front of him. His large wings stretched out and encircled Patton, not quite touching him, but close enough to shut the rest of the world out, and Patton found himself feeling a little safer behind the soft, fluffy feathers.
“Patton,” the Angel said slowly. “Did somebody take you?”
Patton nodded, unable to speak.
“And…what did they want?”
Patton rubbed at his eyes, and looked away from the Guardian’s face.
“Y-you,” he whispered, and he saw the hero nod slowly out of the corner of his eye. “They…they said if I don’t lead them to you then they’d…they…” he hiccuped, and the Angel made a shushing sound, gently moving his thumb in soothing circles on Patton’s knee.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I won’t let them hurt you…”
“Not me,” Patton insisted, his head snapping back towards the Guardian just in time to see his questioning look. “I…I said it didn’t matter what they did to me, I w-wouldn’t do it, and I th-thought they might just kill me but, but they said they’d kill him instead and I- I couldn’t…”
“Him?” the hero asked, head tilting to the side, and Patton sighed, resting his chin on top of his knees.
“V-Virgil…” he whispered, and the Guardian froze for a moment.
“Virgil?” he repeated carefully, and Patton nodded.
“He’s my roommate. I mean, he’s more than my roommate, he’s…” Patton paused, trying to come up with an appropriate word for just how much Virgil meant to him. Best friend didn’t capture just how close they were, and, as much as Patton’s heart dared to hope, boyfriend wasn’t an accurate term. Patton wasn’t even sure there was a word for what they were. He looked back up at the Guardian, who was still unusually still, staring down at Patton and waiting for him to speak.
“He’s the most important person in my life,” Patton finally said. “So I…I have to turn you in. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but I just…” he sniffled, and a few stray tears slid from his eyes. “I can’t lose him.”
“I…” the Angel sounded as though he were having trouble choosing his words. “You won’t lose, him Patton.”
“I will if I don’t do this,” Patton whispered, looking away, not wanting to face the man he was willing to hand over to the worst people imaginable. Patton had only gotten a taste of their cruelty, and he didn’t want to even think about what they would do to the Guardian himself, but he had no choice, he had to keep Virgil safe, he had to…
“Patton,” the hero spoke again and Patton’s thoughts screeched to a halt, because the voice had changed, and he knew this voice now, he knew it better than anything in the world…
Patton looked up to see Virgil brushing hair out of his eyes, the Guardian Angel’s mask hanging limply from his fingers and an impossibly gentle expression on his face.
“You’re not going to lose me,” he whispered.
Patton was frozen for a moment, staring slack-jawed up at the hero, at Virgil, then he was throwing himself forward into his best friend’s arms, burying his face in Virgil’s chest and sobbing anew. Virgil wrapped his arms tightly around him and shifted his wings so that they draped around Patton like a soft blanket of feathers. He gently rocked the two of them back and forth, making soothing noises and running his fingers through Patton’s hair.
After a few minutes, Patton’s sobs finally died away, the sensation of Virgil’s fingers scratching lightly at his scalp and the slow, gentle rocking bringing him down to a state of calm. He leaned back a bit to get a better look at Virgil’s face, and Virgil’s brow furrowed. He reached out and traced his fingers ever so gently over the bruise that was blossoming around Patton’s right eye.
“Oh, Pat…” Virgil sighed, and his voice was so heavy with heartbreak that it made Patton want to cry all over again. “What did they do to you?”
“I…I’m okay, Virge,” Patton said in a hoarse voice, but Virgil shook his head.
“This,” he stroked Patton’s bruise again, then glanced down and took Patton’s hands in his own, running his feather-light touch over the marks the cuffs had left on Patton’s wrists. “Is not okay.”
Patton wanted to argue, wanted to deflect the conversation, he wanted to just go home, but when he looked up and caught Virgil’s intense gaze, he knew he wasn’t going to win this fight.
“They, um, they hit me a few times,” he said, trying to keep his voice from wavering. “And, and they had a knife–” Virgil inhaled sharply and Patton shook his head quickly. “No, Virge, they didn’t use it on me, they just threatened to, they just scared me…” Patton trailed off, remembering the sensation of cold metal against his neck, how it pressed against him harder when he’d refused to do what they said, how he’d been so sure that he was going to die right there, in the dark all alone with no one to hold his hand.
He thought about how that fear didn’t even come close to the dread that had crawled in his chest when they’d showed the sniper on Virgil, the panic that had spiked in his mind when his tormentor said fire on my count. He hiccuped again, and leaned closer in to Virgil, breathing in his familiar scent.
“They really really scared me,” he whispered, and he felt Virgil’s arms tighten around him again.
“M’sorry,” Virgil murmured, pressing a kiss to Patton’s curls. He sighed, and tucked his chin over Patton’s head. “I’m so sorry, Pat.” Patton heard the regret in Virgil’s voice, understood the unspoken this is my fault that was running through his friend’s mind, and he wanted nothing more than to cup Virgil’s face in his hands and tell him that he was okay now, that everything was going to be alright.
But Patton was too tired to put on that bright, happy mask, and too worried to believe that they really were okay.
“Virgil?” he asked, and Virgil hummed in response. “What…what are we gonna do? They’re still looking for you…they’ll t-try and k-kill you if I don’t…if I–”
“Hey,” Virgil said, drawing back to look in Patton’s eyes. “It’s going to be okay, alright? We’ll figure something out. How much time did they–?”
“Three days,” Patton whispered, and Virgil nodded.
“So we have three days to come up with a plan. We’ll think of something, okay? I promise.”
Patton nodded, and buried his face in Virgil’s chest again.
He wasn’t sure how they’d gotten home, but the next thing he knew, Virgil was laying him down in his room, tucking Patton’s bright blue comforter over him and slipping his glasses off. He brushed the hair out of Patton’s eyes as he set the glasses down and turned to leave, but Patton reached out and grabbed his hand before he could get far.
“Stay?” he whispered, and after a moment, Virgil nodded, easing back down on Patton’s bed and sliding under the covers. He twisted on his side, letting his wings spread out behind him, and wrapped his arms around Patton’s waist.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered in Patton’s ear, and Patton nestled closer to Virgil.
They’d have a lot to talk about in the morning, questions that needed to be answered, plans that needed to be made, maybe even feelings that needed to be confronted and confessed. But for now, Patton closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep in Virgil’s arms, finally feeling safe.