Archive of Our Own

“You need to take responsibility.”

Wander blinked slowly; he was having trouble processing what Lord Hater had just said. “What now?”

“Look, you little weirdo,” Hater said, poking at Wander’s fuzzy chest, “you don’t get to hound me all over the galaxy with your mushiness, and your songs, and your cute stupid face, then pretend everything is fine.”

Cute stupid-- Wander couldn’t have heard that right.

Hater clasped him by the shoulders, the big gloved hands clutching him in a firm unmoving grip. Hater continued his rant; keeping Wander pinned into place. “You may have seduced all those other villains into being soft without sticking around,” Hater said, “but I’m different!”

“Uh—” Wander was genuinely surprised. This outing had been presented by Mr. Peepers as “Lord Hater needs help, can you come up to the ship?” A one friend helping another kind of thing. Once Wander and Sylvia had arrived, however, Wander had been whisked away to Lord Hater’s bedroom while Sylvia was offered a tour.

Wander had suspected that Lord Hater hadn’t wanted to discuss anything too emotionally charged in front of his Watchdogs because of his pride. The would-be galactic conqueror could be rather sensitive about his image.

This conversation though had completely blind-sided the nomad. “I’m sorry,” Wander said. “I don’t know what you’re—”

“I’m saying,” Hater rambled on right over Wander’s protest, “that if you want me to give up being evil, in being the conqueror of this galaxy, then I want something in return.”

Wander’s eyes widened in excitement; his tiny frown transformed into a massive grin. “You’re going to give up being a bad guy?” Wander practically vibrated right out of Hater’s hands he was so happy.

“Stop that!” Hater commanded.

It was difficult, but Wander stilled. He squished up his mouth to keep the giggles at bay.

Hater sucked in a breath; his face deadly serious. “I am the Greatest in the Galaxy and as the Greatest, I deserve the best.”

Wander nodded. It was okay, he could work with this.

“And that includes in love. Do you get what I’m saying?” Hater asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Unfortunately for Wander, he really, really didn’t. So, Wander made his best guess. “You want me to help you find a girlfriend?” As much fun as it had been getting Hater to learn how to care about someone other than himself, Wander was going to have to decline. “Because honestly, that didn’t go so well last time. I think you’ve grown enough as a person--”

“Don’t play dumb,” Hater snapped. Despite wanting to change, it seemed the former conqueror still had a temper.

Wander wiggled out from under Hater’s grip, taking a judicious step back. “None of that if you want my help,” he said.

“Wander—” Hater’s hands were still held out as if Wander hadn’t escaped him. “I—” He sighed, dropping his fists by his side. Lord Hater, mighty in stature and frame, stood there pushing the dirt around on the floor with his shoe like an insecure teenager. “All of this chasing me around, it had to mean something, right?”

“Of course, it did.” How could Hater even doubt that? “I saw that there was a good person deep inside you and—”

“Is that really it?” Hater asked. The expression on his face was a strange combination of sorrow and anger. It made Wander uncomfortable. “Is that all I am to you, a project?”

Wander was taken aback. No one had ever questioned his motives like this. Wander was a simple being, a little mischievous sometimes, but he always worked for the greater good. “No, I just—” Wander pursed his lips, how to explain? Whatever he said, it had to come from the heart. “I think you’re worth saving.”

“Saving.” A new look crossed Hater’s face, one that said he was plotting. “Fine, saving. Maybe I could use this.”

Plotting was not something that someone trying to get on the path of righteousness should be doing. “If you want to be a good person,” Wander said, “it’s just something you do. You can take little steps; you don’t have to do everything all at once. Goodness isn’t just something you are it’s something you do.”

“But being good is hard,” Hater whined.

“It takes practice,” Wander said. “It’s not a race.” He should know, he had been doing it for a long time.

“I need incentives!” Hater said, flailing his arms. “This isn’t easy for me.”

“Incentives,” Wander asked, “like a reward?” He had always done his good deeds for their own sake. Rewards were to be accepted graciously, but not expected. Though he could admit that the kindness of strangers did keep him and Sylvia sustained on their travels. “That’s not really how the hero thing works—”

“No,” Hater said, “it’s how I work.” He paced around the bedroom, his ire growing. “Just because those other former villains could handle the whole ‘being a better person’ thing on their own, doesn’t mean I can.” He stopped directly in front of Wander. “Or that I want to.”

“But you’re not alone,” Wander pointed out. “You have the Watchdogs and Mr. Peepers—”

Bony shoulders slumped as Lord Hater bent over backwards with an exaggerated groan. “It’s not the same thing.” He sounded like a spoiled child, not exactly an unusual state for Lord Hater.

Wander though was getting a little tired of not being able to finish a sentence. “Then what do you want?” Wander asked.

“I want something none of those other villains got,” Lord Hater said. He straightened out his back to loom over Wander. “I want bragging rights.”

Bragging rights? Arrogance was not exactly a quality Wander wanted to encourage. Maybe he could get Lord Hater to think about something else. “Do you want a pony? Or a bouncy castle? I’d say banjo lessons, but I’m already helping Black Cube with those—”

“I want you to be my boyfriend!” Lord Hater blurted out.

Silence descended, heavy and thick. It was as if what was forbidden was suddenly given terrible, free reign to wreak havoc on Wander’s sensitive soul.

Wander’s response was a simple soft: “Oh.”

This had never happened before. Yes, some of the villains Wander had reformed had gotten a little attached but this was something else. This was something he could not allow. Long ago he had resigned himself to engaging only in platonic relationships, to leaving romance something only to be observed in other beings. If he got into a relationship with Lord Hater that would go against his loosely established principles.

Wander supposed that it was his own fault. The techniques he had used on Lord Hater were reliable ones cultivated over decades of experience. Wander hadn’t thought he had treated the would-be conqueror any differently from his other former enemies, but the more he thought about it, it just wasn’t true.

With Hater had been relentless in a way he hadn’t had to be since Jeff/Major Threat. But even Jeff was an easier sell; the poor guy was a psychic and had a hard time shutting out the world around him so he sought to control it. In the end, all Jeff wanted was peace. Wander had shown him how to channel his anger, how to destress and let things go. It had changed everything for the evil overlord but even he hadn’t wanted—

“You’re not saying anything,” Hater said. He trembled on the verge of panic. “Oh no, you don’t like me.” His lower lip trembled.

Wander shook his head. “Now that’s not true.” In fact, he might like Hater too much. Apparently, the affection that he had shown Hater in his quest to make the conqueror a better person had been a bit excessive. Wander’s intentions had been pure, but his actions may have betrayed deeper feelings.

This was not an ideal situation.

It was made all the worse when Hater grabbed Wander’s hands, enveloping them in his far larger claws. The happy grin on Hater’s face was a little terrifying. “Then you do like me?”

Yes, Wander did and that was a problem. He had to find a way out of this. Somehow, he needed to keep Lord Hater on the right moral track and not get too entangled up in it himself. But how?

Before Wander could speak, he was enveloped in a great bony hug. “Ha!” Lord Hater cackled with joy, “I win!”

Being in the overlord’s arms felt way too nice which meant Wander needed to escape. Now.

Wander sucked in a great breath, then exhaled to shrink himself down. He wiggled and squirmed his way out of Lord Hater’s embrace, practically running to the other side of the room.

Space, he needed space!

“Let’s talk about this now,” Wander said, holding his palms out in a placating gesture.

“What’s there to talk about?” Lord Hater asked. “I’m into it, you’re into it, what’s the issue?”

A simple argument, but compelling. That meant Wander had to make an argument of his own. So, he would do what he did best: persuade with song. He whipped off his hat and yanked out his trusty banjo.

His furry fingers flew over the banjo strings, plucking out a jaunty country-inspired tune. Music was one of the great equalizers and a sure-fire way to express his true feelings.

Key change.

Now it was time for the banjo solo and Wander couldn’t resist showing off a little. This part was always so much fun. Unfortunately, Hater seemed distracted.

He stroked his bony chin. “What are you saying exactly?”

Perhaps a crooning ballad might be more Hater’s speed for this conversation. The melody transitioned from the frantic notes of before, slowing down to a soft, lilting tune.

Hater wasn’t impressed. “You’re describing yourself.”

Wander hit a sour note. Well, this wasn’t helping at all. Then Wander remembered, Hater liked rock songs, right? This called for a new strategy.

Wander removed his hat and dropped his banjo inside for safekeeping. A guitar would be a much better fit for this next number. His trusty hat thoughtfully provided him with what he needed. Although when Wander pulled out the sleek looking guitar, he realized it was electric. He was going to need a few more things.

A few moments later and a miniature stage complete with amp was set up in the far corner of Hater’s bedroom. A personal concert just for the former conqueror curtesy of a helpful hat.

Wander’s tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he shouted: “One, two, three, four!”

The next line was nearly drowned out by the hard-driving guitar rhythm.

A feminine voice called out, loud enough to be heard over the amp. “Wander, what are you doing?”

The song came to a screeching halt. Oh, it was Sylvia and a slightly horrified Commander Peepers. Wander thought what was happening was self-evident. “I’m singing a song.”

“That stupid amp is shaking the entire hallway,” Peepers complained.

“Sorry about that.” Wander yanked the cord out of the amplifier, causing a hideous, if temporary, amount of feedback.

When Sylvia’s head stopped vibrating, she took charge. “Okay, let’s try this again, buddy.” She sidled over to Wander, her eyes narrowing to glare at Hater. “Did this guy try anything?” she muttered.

“No,” Wander said. Not technically. “I’m just trying to explain a few things.”

“Uh huh,” Sylvia said. “With the guitar?”

“Well, I started with the banjo—” Wander explained.

Peepers closed his great big eye, visibly aggravated. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

Sylvia ignored him; Wander was her first priority. “What were you trying to explain?”

“That,” Wander didn’t want to embarrass Lord Hater, but he wasn’t sure how else to put this, “well, what Lord Hater wants from me is a bit too much.”

The Zbornak raised an eyebrow. “Really? You can’t be friends? I thought that’s what—"

“I don’t want to be his ‘friend’,” Hater said, his hands punctuating the words with air quotes. “I want to be his boyfriend.”

Sylvia’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“Look,” Hater said, “I have six different Smooching Rooms that need breaking in, so if we could hurry this along—”

“Six—” Sylvia facepalmed. She couldn’t believe this. Her nostrils flared as she glared at Peepers. “You knew about this?”

“Of course, I did,” Peepers complained. “It’s all Lord Hater’s talked about for a week.”

Sylvia looked utterly betrayed. “So, that’s why you were buttering me up with the gym and the sauna and the—"

“Ooh, they have a sauna!” Wander cooed. “That’s new.”

“Right?” Sylvia said. “It has this beautiful wood finish inside and it’s got the little pit you throw water on—wait a minute.” She snorted in disgust; she couldn’t believe she had allowed herself to get distracted. “That’s not important.”

“What is important—” Sylvia picked up Wander, placing the nomad behind her in a deliberate gesture. No one was getting to her friend without going through her first. “Is that if you aren’t interested—”

“Well,” Wander said, dragging out the word, “I wouldn’t say that.”

For the second time in this conversation, Sylvia found herself off-balance. “What now?”

“It’s complicated, Sylvia,” Wander said. That was putting it mildly. “My feelings are only a teeny part of this.”

“Ha!” Lord Hater pointed at Sylvia in triumph, “in your face!”

She ignored the former would-be conqueror. Wander had just dropped a bombshell on her, anything Hater had to say was unimportant. “Wait, wait, wait. What’s this about your feelings?”

Wander hesitated, explaining this aloud was not something he had ever anticipated. “Look, I’ve spent my lifetime making every universe I stumble across a better place. If I took up with every villain that I’ve ever reformed—” He blushed under his fur just thinking about it.

Lord Hater’s patience wore thin. “You keep Sylvia around,” he whined, “and she was a bad guy!”

That gave Wander pause. He didn’t think that Hater had done any research on Sylvia’s past. Even so, he still wasn’t completely right on the matter. “How do you know about that?” Wander asked.

“I, uh,” Sylvia scratched the back of her neck, “told Mr. Peepers a few weeks ago.”

“Really?” That puzzled Wander. “You never like talking about that.” Sylvia’s past was one of those things that was considered a forbidden topic, one never to be discussed in front of strangers without her express permission. That she would disclose it to Peepers of all people really took Wander aback.

“You’re right,” Sylvia said. “I don’t. But Peepers and I were knocking back a few--”

Oh, well that explained it.

“If Sylvia is still here,” Lord Hater said, cutting through Wander’s thoughts, “then you can be my boyfriend.”

Wander didn’t really know to refute that.

“Okay, Wander didn’t choose to stay with me,” Sylvia explained. “I chose to stay with Wander.”

Hater frowned. “I don’t get it.”

Sylvia sighed; it sounded like she was steeling herself up for something. “I had a previous partner, a guy named Ryder,” she said, “I gave more of my heart to him than I probably should have.” It was still painful for her to admit, even after all this time. Wander resisted the urge to give his friend a hug. She was in the middle of her tale and interrupting her now would be rude.

“When he left me,” Sylvia continued, “I went to work as a bounty hunter. Wander was one of my bounties. Instead of capturing him, I found a kindred spirit. There was something about the guy that made me want to be a better person. I decided to stick with him, to let him give me purpose, and to help everyone we meet. Wander is my muse, my companion.” Her tone of voice grew soft. “He’s my best friend.”

Wander smiled, so grateful to hear Sylvia’s true feelings. “And you’re my best friend,” he said, giving into the urge to hug. He always enjoyed hugging his squishy Zbornak friend. From the way she dipped her head over his shoulder, he could tell that she needed it too.

A thoughtful expression crossed Hater’s face. “So, you two are definitely not dating.”

To her credit, Sylvia didn’t lash out and punch every former bad buy in the room. “Yeah, no. Wander ain’t exactly my type.” She grinned at her buddy. “No offense.”

Wander was a bright ray of sunshine as he replied: “None taken.”

“Fine,” Peepers said, growing visibly agitated, “we’ve established that Wander doesn’t date villains.”

“Oh,” Wander felt the need to clarify, “I don’t date anybody.”

Now it was Hater and Peepers turn to look confused. “What?”

Since Hater wouldn’t listen to the music, maybe he would listen to Wander’s words if he spoke plainly. Maybe. Possibly. It was worth a shot.

“I’m a star nomad,” Wander explained, “and I live for a very, very, very, very, very,” he inhaled, “very, very, very long time. So long that being with someone romantically might end--” he couldn’t think of a good euphemism, “badly.”

The look on Sylvia’s face said it all. There was sympathy, exasperation, but most of all, a deep understanding. “Buddy,” she said, “I don’t want to encourage Lord Hater or anything but denying yourself something you want because you’re afraid—that doesn’t sound like you.” She smiled, wanting to give her friend the encouragement he obviously needed. “You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, don’t let me down now.”

Wander swallowed. Oh. It hadn’t occurred to him that fear was his real problem. The idea of someone he loved dying before him wasn’t just a possibility but an inevitability. He had lived for centuries already but was still relatively young in terms of his species. Anyone he cared for would leave him someday. Was love, romantic love rather, worth the risk?

Acutely aware of the several pairs of eyes on him, Wander tried to speak. “I, uh—”

“Hey,” Lord Hater said, “I’m a living skeleton guy. Who knows how long I’m gonna live; like, I could be immortal.” He wiggled his eyebrows, displaying some of his immature charm.

It was a stupid argument based on faulty logic and a dim hope. Wander had saved planets with far less than that. Sylvia was right, living in fear was not the kind of person he was. No, he was a helper, even if he couldn’t or wouldn’t always help himself. Risk was a part of his daily life, what was one more? Wander could take a leap of faith.

“All right then,” Wander said, sticking to his new resolution. “But let’s take this slow,” he suggested. “Going to the Smooching Rooms right now is a little much. Maybe we can take in a show first or—”

Wander was snatched off his feet and plastered to Hater’s side with one bony arm. “Peepers!” Lord Hater ordered, “get the projector up and the popcorn popping. I’ve got a movie date.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” A movie would be a good start, Wander thought. As long as it wasn’t one of the ones made by the Watchdogs. They might not really be appropriate for a first date. Or a second one…or ever.

“And then we’ll hit Smooching Room #4 when we’re done,” Lord Hater said, his grin stretching across his face.

Wander flustered at that. “Still too soon!” His protest was drowned out as he was carted away by an overenthusiastic new beau.

As he went out the door, he heard Sylvia sigh: “I’ll get the stun gun.”

Good ol’ Sylvia, always watching his back. Though Wander was pretty certain he wasn’t going to need the help. He had always been able to handle Lord Hater at his worst, Wander was certain he could deal with the guy at his best.

Though as Hater went on a high-fiving victory tour throughout the ship with Wander held so tightly his feet couldn’t touch the ground “best” might not have been the right word for it.

Oh well, Wander would just take it one step at a time like he had always done. Hater wasn’t the only one entitled to bragging rights.