Chapter Text
In life, Eden believed, there were good days, there were bad days, and then there were really bad days.
And then, somewhere in between that last category and the first circle of hell, there were days that were absolutely abhorrent.
Days that were terrible. Days that were so horribly painful, so utterly joyless, that they left Eden with no other choice than to believe not only that God was real, but also that he hated her specifically, and was making an active effort to make her life as much of a living hell as he possibly could.
Eden was currently having a bad day.
But hey, she didn't know—maybe it could get worse.
“Sorry.” Eden mustered up the friendliest smile she possibly could, though its effect was probably diluted by the cavernous shadows resting under her eyes. “Could you repeat your order again?”
This woman standing in front of the counter looked very unimpressed. She reminded Eden vaguely of her old English teacher in high-school—old, stern, a bit of a hard-ass. “You didn’t get all of it the first time?”
Eden swallowed. She had not, mostly because her mind had begun to slip down into the gap between consciousness and sleep about halfway into the lady’s absurdly long order. Seriously, what psycho ordered a caramel latte with exactly one and three-quarter pumps of syrup? “I’m sorry, ma’am. I just want to make sure I’ve got it all correct.”
With a long-suffering sigh and a roll of her eyes, the woman began to repeat her order with all the energy of a woman trying to make conversation with her half-deaf grandfather.
Eden nodded as the lady spoke, scribbling her requests down on her notepad as fast as she could. A vague pounding began to reverberate through her head, and she bit her tongue, trying to concentrate.
It had been a mistake taking that gig last night, Eden thought bitterly. The job had involved a lot of moving boxes and unloading them, and by the time she’d returned home, not only had her back been in shambles, but she’d also returned so late that she’d barely had any time to sleep before her shift at the coffee shop. But rent was coming up, and if she didn’t pay on time…
Eden resisted the urge to shut her eyes, instead clenching her jaw as if that might drive out the pressure slowly building in her skull. When was the last painkiller she’d had? She couldn’t remember for the life of her. An hour ago? Two hours ago? Weren’t you supposed to take another after a longer gap? Hell, she couldn’t remember anything at this point, especially the lady’s order, which—oh, fuck, had she missed it again?
“Excuse me.” The lady knocked on the counter. “Are you listening to me?”
“I’m—” A spike of pain, driving through her skull. Eden grit her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, instinctively raising a hand to her forehead. The lady, seemingly interpreting this as an indication of anger, began to raise her voice, shouting something Eden couldn’t quite make out through the blood pulsing in her ears.
Her vision was beginning to darken. Eden’s body sagged forward. Soft cotton smothered her thoughts, dragging her down, pulling her consciousness deep down into the soft realm of sleep, until suddenly—
Whap.
The lady in front of the counter recoiled. Several of the other people in the coffee shop glanced over, craning their necks to get a look at the quickly reddening patch of skin on Eden’s cheek.
Eden’s hand stung and twitched from where it hovered just below her collarbone. Huh, she thought distantly. She hadn’t known she’d had it in her to slap someone that hard. Especially not herself.
The woman stared at her with wide eyes. Eden ignored this, instead glancing down at the writing on her notepad. She suppressed a sigh—towards the end of the order, her writing had begun to slide into incomprehensible letters that might as well have been Greek. She’d have to ask again.
“Sorry,” Eden said, her practiced customer service smile seconds away from crumbling completely, “Can you repeat the tail end of that order just one more time? Starting from the extra foam?”
The woman obliged, looking for some reason much less irritated now.
Eden turned back to the coffee machine and fumbled to pick up a plastic cup with leaden fingers, the inside of her head still painfully throbbing. Once the drink was finished Eden handed it over, and as the woman took it, she pursed her lips and straight up asked her if she was alright. Christ. Eden didn’t know whether to cry or to laugh at that.
After assuring the woman that, oh, she was fine, she was just having a bit of a rough day, the woman nodded and left, leaving Eden alone at the counter. As soon as she was gone, Eden dropped her smile and braced her hands on the counter’s wooden surface, letting her head hang down. She exhaled deeply through her nose, her eyes squeezed shut. She didn’t even care that people could see her hanging over the counter—she was too tired to care about anything at this point.
This had to stop. At this point, that made the third time that day she’d drifted off at the counter, and that was three times too many. And to make matters worse, she’d passed out in the middle of taking an order. What was wrong with her? How screwed up was she that she was falling asleep in the middle of conversations?
Caffeine. She needed more caffeine, Eden decided as she raised her head. Yeah, too much coffee made her shaky, and yeah, it would probably scramble her already screwed up mind even further, but it was a better alternative than passing out in front of a customer. Or, worse, while holding a piping hot cup of coffee. Eden had already made similar mistakes that definitely should have got her fired—one more strike, and she’d only have her job at the grocery store to support herself, as well as some gigs on the side. And she hated that job.
Or, well. She hated the assholes that worked there with her. But that was besides the point.
“Eden? Is everything alright?”
Eden glanced back, slowly, wearily. Standing in the doorway behind her, holding open the curtains dividing the counter from the back kitchen, was a girl with dirty blonde hair and a concerned look on her face.
In lieu of responding, Eden just rubbed her face for a few moments before mumbling, “I...yeah, Sadie, I’m fine.”
Sadie, a college freshman and an art major, had started working at the coffee shop along with Eden about two or three months ago. She was polite and had a kind heart, which, if Eden was being honest, was fairly refreshing considering the many obnoxious pricks she encountered on a daily basis (at least a third of whom she worked with). Yeah, she was a bit clumsy at times, and yeah, she was a bit accident prone, but never to the degree that Eden found herself getting angry with the girl.
“Are you sure?” Sadie said slowly. “I thought I heard something...“
“I’m fine,” Eden said again, waving her hand in a dismissive motion. “There was a mosquito.”
“A mosquito,” Sadie repeated.
“Yeah.”
“In...October?”
Eden considered that, then decided she couldn’t be bothered to come up with a better lie. “Yeah. It was a big one.”
Sadie was, thankfully, too nice to call her out, and instead just nodded and pointed a thumb over her shoulder, into the kitchen. “I also, um, just thought I’d let you know that the espresso machine is...broken.” She offered Eden an apologetic, slightly awkward half-smile. “Again.”
“Again,” Eden repeated. That would make the third time this week that the cursed thing broke. How the hell did Sadie manage to keep breaking the espresso machine so often? It wasn’t even that hard to use.
Sadie winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even do anything this time, I swear, it just—kind of stopped on its own. I mean...well, I don’t think I did anything—”
“Okay.” Eden cut her off, her tone slightly more curt than she’d intended. “Sure. Let me see.”
The two moved into the back, where the espresso machine sat in its usual spot near the wall. Maybe it was just the sleep deprivation plus her rampant cynicism, but Eden thought for a moment that she’d never seen such an irritatingly smug espresso machine before in her life.
“Alright,” Eden grumbled, moving towards the machine. “What’s wrong with you.”
Eden began to fiddle with the machine, checking the usual culprits—loose wires, clogged filters, the water reservoir—while Sadie hovered nearby. Eden could feel Sadie’s eyes looking her up and down as she worked, and she could practically hear Sadie’s concern from here. And it had nothing to do with the espresso machine.
Eden grimaced. She could tell what Sadie was thinking, and she didn’t like it.
“Eden?” Sadie’s voice was cautious, as if she knew she was treading on delicate ground. “Um…how much sleep did you get last night?”
Eden’s fingers stilled as she considered the question. What time had she gotten home last night...three? four? And then she’d had to get to the coffee shop by seven...
“Enough,” was what she chose to reply with as she continued to work on the machine. Her fingers began to blur a little, and she shook herself.
“Mmm,” Sadie hummed, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. Eden winced.
After a few more long minutes, Eden finally found the problem and let out a long sigh as she stepped back. “It should work now.”
“Thanks,” Sadie said, still looking at Eden with a sort of pity in her eyes that made her want to scream. Wanting to get away from that look, Eden mumbled a quick ‘No problem’ and turned to rush back to the counter.
“You know, Eden, you look really bad.”
And there it was. Eden held back a sigh. She knew Sadie meant well, but every time somebody said that to her, it just irritated her. Yeah, she looked like death. Yeah, her hair was a mess, and yeah, the bags under her eyes were as heavy as sandbags. She knew that. What was she even supposed to say to that? Did people think they were helping when they said that?
“Hey, um…” Sadie pursed her lips. She rocked back and forth on her heels, a telltale sign she was anxious. Eden felt a hint of guilt for making Sadie feel uncomfortable. “Eden…”
“Yeah?” Eden tried to speak gently. She wasn’t quite sure if she succeeded, but she managed not to sound like an asshole, at least.
“Well…if you need to rest, I can cover for you.” Sadie faltered, then looked away, rubbing her neck. “If you need to step out for a bit.”
Eden paused at that. Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.
Rest. Eden considered that for a moment. Getting some rest. Stepping outside, sitting down for a bit, inhaling the cool autumn air. Just a few minutes, just enough to recharge a little…
But no. A bit was too much. She was too tired. If she sat down ‘for a bit’, she’d find herself resting a little more. And then a little more. And then a lot more. And then she’d find herself passed out in the back of the coffee shop, snoring loudly. Better not to start. Better to keep the current rhythm going.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” The words came out the opposite way of what Eden had intended—stiff and cool, instead of reassuring and nice.
Before Sadie could reply, Eden briskly shoved the curtains aside and returned to the front of the shop, where another customer stood. She felt another stab of guilt at the way she’d treated Sadie, who had honestly just wanted to help. But it was too late now.
Eden was breaking down. She knew that. If she kept going like this with no rest, at some point she’d snap entirely.
But for now, she had to focus on the task at hand. She plastered a smile on her face as she greeted the customer, forcing her eyes open.
One step at a time.
Just keep moving forward.
No time for rest.
—
After Eden’s shift at the coffee shop ended, she gathered her things, bade Sadie farewell, and then immediately stumbled off to the nearby grocery store for her next shift.
As soon as Eden entered the store, her headache, which had been present but not too bad for the past few hours, returned almost instantly. The harsh bright lighting, the music being played through the overhead speakers, the cool, almost freezing air coming from the industrial-strength AC unit—it all hit her like a wave. She grimaced, rubbing her temples as she made her way to the employee break room. She didn’t even have the energy to put on a fake smile for her coworkers as she passed by.
Not that anything would’ve changed if she had. In the break room, where she changed into her uniform, the sound of their whispers and laughter drifted over to her. The small chance that they might not have been talking about her was quickly reduced to zero by the sideways glances they kept shooting her way.
Eden didn’t care. She wasn’t here to make friends, anyways. She was here to get paid.
Eden worked like a drone—mechanically going through the motions with barely any thoughts in her mind. Her body felt like it was on autopilot, stocking shelves, ringing up customers, and tidying up aisles. The fluorescent lights of the store buzzed overhead, adding to the dull ache in her head.
She was only two hours into her shift, though, when a slightly familiar voice called out to her. “Excuse me.”
Eden didn’t even look back, instead studying the chip bag in her hand. “Gluten-free bread’s in aisle seven, sir. Please don’t make me say it again.”
“Eden?”
“And no, sir, I’m not sure when we’ll restock the quinoa. I don’t control the inventory schedule.”
“Eden.”
Eden turned around, ready to tell the irritating customer off, only to be met with the judgmental gaze of a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair. A name tag on his uniform read: ‘Grant - Store Manager’.
The two stared at each other for a moment.
Fuck me. "Um...hey, Grant."
Grant sighed, then jabbed a thumb towards the back of the store. “Could you see me in my office? I’d like to have a word with you.” His eyes flicked to the box of chip bags laying open in front of Eden. “After you’re done with this, of course.”
“Oh?” Ignoring the pang of dread in her gut, Eden tapped her chin in mock thought. “Is today the day I get fired? Or promoted?”
Grant just sighed. “Don’t push it, Eden.” He turned and walked away.
What the hell? That wasn’t a yes or a no.
Eden turned back to the box and grabbed one of the chip bags. She noticed as she put it on the shelf that her hand was shaking, and she was squeezing the bag, so hard it might have popped if Eden hadn’t stopped herself.
She set the bag down in the shelf and turned back to the box. She gripped the sides of it tightly, the cardboard crumpling under her grip as she breathed shakily.
It was fine. She hadn’t fucked anything up too badly yet, and Grant liked her. Or, at least, she thought he did. Did he? Oh, god. He had just been playing along with her dumb ass this whole time, hadn’t he? He was going to fire her now.
You don’t know that, the rational part of her mind tried to sooth her, but it was too late. Eden was already in full-on doom mode.
Pushing down the sudden wave of nausea that came over her, Eden put the rest of the chip bags on the shelves they belonged in before forcing herself to her feet and trudging towards the office at the back of the store.
When she entered, Grant looked up from his desk. He gestured to the chair opposite him. “Eden. Sit down.”
That wasn't a good sign. Grant was typically the type to exchange pleasantries before getting to the main point of most conversations, so the fact that he wasn't even bothering to do so now didn't bode well for Eden. She sat, her heart pounding. She fumbled with her hands for a moment, unsure what to do with them, before eventually deciding to just keep them folded on her lap.
Grant studied her for a long time before sighing and interlacing his fingers together, resting his elbows on the desk. “Do you know why I called you here?”
God damn it. Why did people in positions of power always have to say that? It was a question made solely to make the person being asked deeply uncomfortable.
Eden shook her head, not trusting herself to open her mouth. Grant sighed. “It’s because of your recent performance. It’s come to my attention that you’ve been operating at a…less than ideal level lately.”
Eden’s heart dropped, but she tried not to let it show. She croaked, “What do you mean?”
“I mean it looks like you’ve been struggling recently.” Grant paused. "Lately, you’ve been…distracted. Tired. Not as focused as you usually are. Your coworkers have been mentioning it to me.”
Of course her coworkers were mentioning it, those goddamn snakes. Eden didn’t know why they hated her so much, but if they thought she wasn’t capable of being petty, either, they were dead wrong. The next chance she got, she was throwing all of them under the bus. Or at least, she was dragging them underneath the bus along with her.
“Me, tired? No, no, no.” Eden tried for a laugh. It came out as more of a high pitched squeak. “What? No. I’m fine. Honestly.”
Grant raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then could you tell me why I’ve been getting reports that earlier you were hunched over a box in the dairy section for twenty minutes straight?”
Shit. Eden could have sworn she’d only closed her eyes for just a few seconds. Had it really been twenty minutes?
"It was," Eden said, only slightly having a panic attack, "um, a micro-nap."
Grant squinted at her. "A what?"
"It's...like a power nap. But...with less...power." Eden shut her eyes and briefly ran a list of the tallest buildings around through her mind so she could throw herself off them when this talk was done.
Grant, thankfully, didn't comment on her pitiful excuse of...well, an excuse, and just rubbed his forehead. “Look, Eden, you’re not in trouble. At least, not yet you are. You’re a hard worker, and trust me, I can see that. It’s just that perhaps you’re working a little...too hard.”
“Well—that’s—” Eden struggled to summon the proper words to defend herself. “But that’s good, right? That’s a good thing.”
“Not if you’re working yourself to death.” Grant leaned forwards, folding his hands together. “I know you need the money, but you need to take care of yourself. How about you take the day off?”
Panic surged through her. “I can’t afford to take time off,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “I need that money, Mr. Grant. I—look, I’ll do better. I promise.”
“It’s not a matter of doing better,” Grant said, his tone sympathetic but firm. “If you’re trudging around like a zombie the entire day, you’ll scare away customers. And you can’t do your job if you’re barely conscious. Take the day off, Eden. You need it.”
She shouldn't. Eden knew she shouldn't. She should stick it through, stubbornly refuse Grant’s help, and keep working until either it was time to go home or until she passed out. She didn't have time for leisure.
And yet…
Eden was much too exhausted to argue with the man.
“Alright.” Eden slumped. “Maybe I will.”
Grant nodded. “Good. Take the rest of your day to recharge. I don’t want to see you here until your shift tomorrow, alright?”
“Thank—thank you.” The words came out in a low mumble—anything more than that would worsen her headache even further. “I’m sorry.”
Grant shook his head. “Don’t be. I’m the one that’s sorry for not noticing how tired you were.”
With a feeling somewhere between guilt and relief, Eden left Grant’s office and made her way to the break room, where she sank into a chair.
This was right. Grant was right. She couldn’t work like this. Nobody could work like this. It was just a short break. Just a short one. She’d be back to making money tomorrow. Everything was fine.
So then why did she feel so angry with herself?
Eden slipped off her uniform and folded it with slow, tired movements. Once she was finished, she took her bag and trudged out of the break room.
Two of her co-workers whispered as she passed by.
“Why’s she getting a break?” Muttered the one on the left, a young man with black ear studs. “You don’t see us getting offered breaks by Grant.”
“Hey, c'mon." The other one, a woman with mousy brown hair, said in a half-hearted attempt to defend her. "Don't be like that. She's just...tired."
"If I could get a break every time I got tired, that would be the dream," he replied with a snort.
Eden would have loved to stop and deck the guy halfway to next week, but that wasn’t really an option unless she wanted to actually get fired. Instead, she walked quicker and grabbed the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Once she was far enough away from the grocery store, Eden began to slow. She stopped in front of a streetlight, and slumped against it. She set her head against the cool metal with a thump.
She ran her colleague’s words through her mind.
Eden curled her hand into a fist and stepped back.
She slammed her fist into the streetlight as hard as she could. Pain shot all through her hand and up her wrist, but the pain seemed to clear her foggy mind a little, so she punched the streetlight a few more times until her knuckles were bleeding and her skin was flushed red.
Eden slumped against the streetlight again, breathing heavily. Thought about her coworker.
Punched it one more time for good measure.
Then, slowly, she straightened and began to walk again.
—
It was a twenty minute walk from the store to her apartment.
It had been five minutes, and Eden was already freezing.
The weather was slowly getting colder, and Eden had not dressed for the occasion, wearing nothing but a thin jacket and a plain white shirt underneath. She shivered as a gust of wind blew through her jacket, chilling her to the bone.
Eden pulled her jacket tighter around herself, trying to summon whatever warmth she could. But as she walked, the sky grew darker, the wind stronger, and the clouds thicker. Eden was speed walking now, anxious to get out of the cold as fast as she could.
And then she felt it. A damp spot, right on the top of her head.
Eden slowed slightly. Felt her hair where she felt the wetness. And then something on the ground caught her attention—a small, dark spot, where a droplet of water had fallen.
Beside it appeared another. And then another.
And all of a sudden, rain began to drizzle from the sky, falling faster and faster with each second until the entire world had turned into a gray blur of raindrops.
Eden cursed and began to sprint down the street, her hands held over her head in a futile attempt to block the rain. As she ran, the rain pounded her relentlessly like a million tiny needles, soaking her hair, her clothes, her skin, threatening to wash her away like a bug in a storm drain. Eden gasped and choked and spat water out of her mouth—it felt like she was drowning standing up.
In the distance stood a bus stop, a tiny glass box with a curved roof. Eden stumbled into the bus stop and collapsed onto the bench underneath it, panting and wiping water out of her eyes.
Eden sat there, drenched in water and shivering, watching the rain pour down from where she sat. The glass roof above her blocked most of the rain, but that didn’t mean she still wasn’t getting rained on—the wind still carried raindrops into her eyes, making her blink and squint.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. Eden, arms wrapped around her body, glanced up at the shadowy clouds hanging above her. This storm was not stopping any time soon.
Slowly, Eden looked down at herself, noting the uncontrollable tremors running throughout her entire body and the weakness in her limbs. Even if she got home and got as warm as possible with the one blanket she owned, she would get sick the next day. Meaning she would lose even more time to work. Which would mean even less money to pay rent with.
Eden sat there for a few moments, letting this news sink in.
“Fuck,” she said softly.
Then she screamed, not so softly, “FUCK!”
Her yell cut through the roaring of the storm, even if only for a second. Eden found this satisfying—like she was silencing the roars of the storm that wished to silence her. A bit of a ridiculous idea, sure, but Eden liked the sound of it.
So she screamed a little more.
“THANKS A LOT, YOU JACKASS! NO, I WASN’T ALREADY HAVING A SHIT DAY—NO, I WASN'T THINKING ABOUT BEING WARM TODAY—NO, I'M JUST FINE! I'M DOING GREAT! I'M DOING FUCKING FANTASTIC!"
Eden slumped back against the bench, breathing heavily. Her headache was back now, and with a vengeance. She felt like if she moved her head too quickly it was going to explode.
The clouds flashed. A second later, the loud boom of thunder descended from the sky.
Eden flipped off the clouds, shouting, “YEAH, FUCK YOU TOO!"
She sat there for a few moments longer, panting, before a sudden giggle escaped her. She was cussing out the sky. Like it could hear her. Like it actually cared.
What was her life?
Eden spent a few more minutes on that bench, getting rained on, quietly giggling to herself like a madman.
Eventually, she managed to collect herself enough to stand up, her legs shaky beneath her. This storm wasn’t ending anytime soon. So there was nothing else for it. She’d have to run.
Eden lowered her head. Let out a long sigh.
And then she took a deep breath, screamed, and sprinted out into the rain.
—
The whistling of the wind abruptly cut off as the apartment door slammed shut.
Eden left a trail of water behind her as she kicked off her soaked shoes at the entrance, peeled off her waterlogged socks, and dropped her sodden jacket on the floor.
Not wanting to get either the carpet or the couch wet, Eden just stopped, sat, and flopped over on the hardwood floor in front of the entrance, still slightly trembling from the cold.
A puddle of water slowly spread out from underneath her. Eden wondered vaguely if this was how it felt to be a corpse.
She looked blankly to the side, looking around the inside of her apartment. Her good old barren, empty, depressing apartment.
Home sweet home.
"I'm home," she croaked. Then she coughed.
Nobody replied, of course. Eden lived alone.
A soft meow came from afar.
Correction. Eden actually had one little roommate.
A few feet away, a calico cat crept cautiously out of Eden’s room. Eden’s eyes flicked to the cat, who strutted over to Eden as casually as if she’d never left the apartment in the first place. She sat down, just out of reach of the water puddle, and meowed at Eden insistently.
Eden reached out to pet the cat, a tired smile forming on her face. “Hey, Gem," she rasped. "Miss me?”
Gem moved a few steps back, out of Eden's reach, and sat back down. She meowed.
Eden let out a broken laugh. "Fair enough. I guess you don't wanna get wet."
Gem tilted her head at her. Eden tilted her head as best as she could from where she lay on the floor. "Long day?" Eden inquired.
Another meow.
“Yeah. Me too.”
Eden laid there for a little longer before slowly getting to her feet with slow, weary movements. Honestly, she could have just passed out right there on the spot, but she needed to at least try and make sure she wasn’t literally dying by the next morning. Besides, Gem needed feeding.
First order of business, of course, was to feed Gem. Who, despite her initial neutrality at Eden's return, was fairly cranky for not having gotten her supper on time. This was quickly remedied with some cat food poured into Gem's bowl, which she immediately went to town on.
Second order of business was to banish the cold from her bones. Eden made her way to the bathroom, shedding her wet clothes as she did, and took a long nice hot shower. She spent almost twenty minutes just standing in that shower, letting the exhaustion drain out of her, letting the warm water pour over her neck and down her body as she stood slumped in the shower, only half-conscious. Not great for her water bill, honestly, but at that moment, she could care less.
Next was bandaging her knuckle, which still ached slightly from her little escapade with that light pole, and after that, supper. Eden checked the fridge, just in case there was something in there to eat.
There was nothing, of course. Eden wasn't particularly surprised, but...she sighed. She was starting to get sick of cup ramen for supper.
Eden shut the doors to the fridge and opened one of the cabinets, reaching into a box filled with cup ramen. She pulled out one of the cups and readied it with practiced efficiency, pouring the soup base inside and then filling it with boiling water from a kettle. Eden scrolled YouTube as she waited for the noodles to cook, only paying half attention to the thumbnails and the titles that scrolled by.
A tutorial for living on a tight budget. She’d watched a lot of these before. They weren’t worth it.
A tech review on the latest smartphone. Eden couldn’t afford it anyway.
A motivational speech about achieving your dreams. Again, not worth the time.
A news video. Eden didn’t really watch the news...but hold on. Eden frowned down at the video.
"Superhero Solaris Clashes With Supervillain in Small Neighborhood", the title read.
This in and of itself wasn’t surprising. There was always something going on with the heroes and the villains, some battle or a crime or some sort of controversy surrounding a hero. Eden could care less about keeping up with these types of news stories. To her, heroes were just arrogant celebrities who happened to fight crime, and villains were just glorified criminals that liked the spotlight. It didn’t matter if they had superpowers or not. That was all they were.
But the thumbnail was intriguing. Not because of the flashy golden hero, or the darkly dressed supervillain, but their surroundings. It looked…oddly familiar.
Eden tapped the video. Immediately, loud music played from the phone, and she lowered her volume.
Eden’s thoughts were immediately proven right; the neighborhood in the thumbnail was only a few blocks away from her apartment, which she knew only because she cut through that neighborhood when she had day shifts at the grocery store. Which wasn't often, as she only took day shifts when they were short on workers.
She skipped through the video, absorbing the short snippets of information she heard about the villain, whose name was apparently Midnight, the neighborhood the fight took place in, and obviously the fight itself, which had only taken place about thirty minutes ago. Eden glanced at the video’s upload time: only ten minutes ago.
That was recent. Incredibly so.
If a hero fight had happened so close, then why hadn't she heard anything coming up to her apartment?
Maybe...maybe Eden had just been too wet and miserable to notice anything outside of her own misery. Yeah, that made sense. That was usually how it was with her.
Eden paused the video and swiped out of it. There was no point in watching the rest, she thought. She knew the drill—after the news, the rest of the video would just turn into literal hero worship, listing all of the hero's achievements and their whole life story. And Eden wasn’t interested in watching a reporter ham up some already puffed-up arrogant asshole for five minutes straight.
Still, this was a little bit concerning. This Midnight had fled the scene, and though she'd been heavily injured in the fight, nobody had found her yet. Which was why people in the vicinity were being warned to keep a look out for the supervillain and call the authorities if she was seen.
Apparently. Because Eden had not received any such warnings.
But it was probably fine. After all, she spent most of her time at work, and it wasn't as if Midnight would have any reason to break into her apartment—unless, for whatever reason, she saw it fit to rob the apartment of a broke twenty-four year old.
With a sigh, Eden began to scroll again, and when nothing else caught her attention, she switched to Netflix. Might as well catch the rest of that show she’d been watching.
Then she cursed. It had been more than four minutes. Her ramen was probably all soggy now.
The ramen, while a little soggy, still tasted good enough. And the show was good. In fact, Eden found herself binging the series until she checked the time on her phone and jumped at the realization that it was almost one AM. Perfect—the one time she’d gotten a chance to go to sleep at a reasonable time, and she’d spent an hour of it watching Netflix.
Oh, well. At least one AM gave her a solid five hours of sleep. She hadn't even gotten three last night.
By the time Eden was finished washing up, it was half past one, and Eden was practically asleep already. She flicked all of the lights off, stumbled into her room, and collapsed into the bed. Eden pulled out her phone, tapping it sluggishly to set an alarm for the next day.
And then it died on her.
With a groan of irritation, Eden rolled out of her bed and trudged into the living room, where she searched for her charger for a long while before finally finding it wedged between the cushions of her couch and taking it to her room.
It took Eden several tries to get the charger to work, plugging and unplugging the charger into the phone several times, twisting the cord this way and that until eventually the empty battery blinking on her screen was replaced by that of a charging battery. Eden let out a sigh of relief—the charger was finicky and slightly frayed at the end, so she’d have to get another one soon. But for now, the charger worked, and so she kept it.
Finally, she flopped back onto her bed, sighing contentedly as she drew the warm blanket over her body once more.
It had been a long, hard, and stressful day. One that tomorrow, she’d have to repeat all over again. The thought made her heart sink a little.
But for now, at least, it was finally over. Yes, Eden thought sleepily as she drifted off into that peaceful place one went when they went to sleep. Tomorrow would be hard. But this was what Eden had worked for. A moment of peace. A chance to rest.
And with that, she fell asleep at last—not to be disturbed.
At least, not until about an hour later.
—
Crash.
Eden jolted awake. She was disoriented for a moment, looking around wildly for a few moments before she realized where she was.
Eden rubbed her eyes. What time was it? She couldn’t tell—she couldn’t reach her phone from where she was. It was still dark outside, clearly. But then…
What had that sound been? A loud crash. Had Gem knocked something over? But no, Eden could see Gem right there in the corner, sleeping on her cat bed. So then what—?
“Shit.”
Eden froze. A voice. Coming from outside her room.
“Fuck, that hurt. Jesus.”
A voice? Why—? Was she dreaming?
“This is…shit, this is fine. Ugh. Crap. I’m fine. Fuck…”
No. No. This had to be a dream. Or a nightmare.
“Okay. Okay. Deep breaths. Don’t…lose it. I just…”
No. No. No, no, no, no, no.
She was not doing this today.
She was not going to deal with this today.
“I just gotta…have to…fuck…”
Eden resisted the urge to scream. There was a robber in her apartment. A robber. Or at least someone who appeared to have broken in.
There was a series of clattering sounds. Someone was opening all of the cabinets. The intruder was searching for something.
Shit. This was definitely a robber. Why else would they be rummaging around in her cabinets?
This was ridiculous. Absolutely fucking ridiculous.
For a moment, Eden was tempted to just go back to sleep and let them try and rob her house. It wasn’t like she had much to steal anyways, besides her toaster and her kettle. Both of which she could live without.
But if the robber came into her room and tried to stab her or something, that would be an issue. So…911 it was.
Eden reached for the phone sitting on the small stool beside her bed, trying not to rustle the covers too loudly as she did. A finger brushed it, then two fingers, then three—and then it was in her hand. Squinting her eyes in preparation for the blinding light that would inevitably hit her face as soon as the phone turned on, she clicked the home button.
She was greeted by a flashing image of an empty battery. Zero percent.
Eden resisted the urge to throw her phone at the wall, instead choosing to squeeze it as hard as she could as if by proxy she might strangle the robber milling around outside. Of course. How stupid was she? Of course her shitty, frayed, defective goddamn charger didn’t work. Because why would it? Nothing in her life worked for her. Nothing.
It was all so messed up that it was almost funny. A despairing laugh nearly rose from her throat as she stared at the empty battery blinking on her phone’s screen, like it was mocking her.
She let it fall from her hand, let it clatter loudly on the floor. She tossed back her blanket and swung her legs over the side of the bed, where she stood.
It was probably a smarter idea to just sit there until the intruder left, but Eden was taken by an irrational sort of rage that she didn’t seem to want to get rid of, and she wanted to take it out on something. Hands shaking, Eden looked around her room for a moment before her eyes landed on the small lamp sitting on her desk. The small lamp, and its...metal base.
She grabbed it.
Eden didn’t quite know why she was walking to the living room, where the robber was. Maybe it was because her sleep-deprived brain couldn’t process the situation properly. Maybe it was because she was still a little groggy from having just woken up. She didn’t really know.
All she knew was that she was done.
She was absolutely done.
And if she was going to die today, then so be it.
Eden flung the door open, and it hit the wall with a crash. She slapped the light switch, not even wincing as the sudden light shone into her eyes—
—and then she stopped.
Blinked.
And stared.
There was not somebody in all black standing in her kitchen, going through her cabinets.
There was not a masked intruder or a thief with a knife.
What there was was a woman leaning against a wall in her living room, blood dripping from a wound in her shoulder.
Looking directly at her.
The woman's black hair, tangled and matted, hung over her face like a curtain. Through it, she could just barely make out one of her eyes, its iris a striking shade of gray so bright it was almost like steel. Her skin was pale and bruised. One of her gloved hands was covered in blood. A mask sat abandoned on the ground a few feet from her feet. And she seemed to be wearing some sort of black costume made of some sort of leather-like fabric or material...
Hold on.
Wait a minute.
Eden knew this woman.
In her mind, she recognized her. But she didn’t want to accept it. No, she couldn’t accept it.
But she had to. Because this was real.
Sitting in her living room, bleeding profusely, was Midnight. The supervillain from the news.
Whatever Eden had been about to say died in her throat as this revelation hit her; that there was a genuine, living, actual supervillain in her living room.
A droplet of blood fell from Midnight’s shoulder onto the gray carpet she was standing on. Eden’s eyes flicked to the carpet, which now had many spots of red slowly spreading through its fabric.
She’d gotten that carpet for twenty dollars at a thrift shop. She liked that carpet. Feeling its soft fabric beneath her feet reminded her she was home.
Eden looked up at Midnight. Opened her mouth.
And out of the millions of things that Eden could possibly have said, the only thing her sleep-deprived, groggy, malfunctioning mess of a brain could conjure up was a blank: “You’re bleeding all over my carpet.”
There was a brief silence.
“What?” The supervillain asked.