Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Get out of the way!” No one heeded his shout. They rarely did. Instead their cameras were aligned with the scene before their eyes in delight. Excitement. Never once considering Lin Ling might not be able to fully stop this thing from falling on them.

He grit his teeth, running with every ounce he had towards the crumbling building and those beneath. Leaping past reporters and civilians alike he hoisted himself up, gritting his teeth as his hands caught the collapsing roof above him.

It struck his skull and left his muscles straining heavily beneath it. The rubble he stood on creaked as it adjusted further down with the sudden weight. The only thing between him and collapsing down. Lin Ling glared at those still watching from below, those few who stood around the first victim in a last ditch attempt to keep her safe. She’d been struck in the head, he realized, from the rubble. And they were all just recording.

“Go,” he shouted.

“Get to safety! I’ve got this!” That seemed to have been the magic words that made them all want to move, having caught him catching the rubble before bolting off through the outer door, some stopping to grasp and help the girl bleeding heavily free. Most just running on their own. Leaving him alone here.

His strength managed in beginning to push the rubble away, bits of concrete clattering desperately to the ground as he panted in exhaustion. He’d just come from another sight, an up and coming villain having decided the best way to leave his mark being through trying to kill people throwing big heavy things at them, like cars and and entire fucking building. For fun.

He sat bruised and silent in the back of a police car now. Lin Ling would usually make sure they made it out before he left. He was needed before that could happen though.

He heaved the rubble further from the ledge it could cause more damage with, exhaustion pulling at his limbs while he did so.

“You seem to be having a nice time.” The rubble fell from his hands, crashing loudly and cruelly to the floor but no longer in danger of catching anyone under it. Lin Ling heaved for a moment, catching his breath as he glared to the masked figure floating a few feet away lounging as though there were an invisible chair supporting him. Nice. Lin Ling stood as tall as he could facing the villain, still shaking lightly from his exertion.

“What’re you doing here,” Lin Ling demanded. Nice’s smile only widened at that, his head tilting to the side as he slowly drifted closer again. Lin Ling wondered if the rest of his face below the mask showed as much joy to Lin Ling’s obvious discomfort as he thought it did. Probably.

“Happened to hear the little hero himself was out here doing community service. Thought I’d come confirm for myself.”

“Sucks then you’re too late.”

“Was I?” That stupid smile of his turned knowing. Ridiculous and obviously so. Lin Ling made certain his face didn’t change from his glare.

“Rubbles cleared isn’t it,” Lin Ling struggled out. His breathes weren’t recovering as quickly as he wanted them to. In fact he worried they wouldn’t recover at all considering how he pretended they were normal against Nice and struggled more than ever.

“Not that last bit. Tell me, little hero, think you can hold up another building,” Nice challenged as he started to fly backwards towards a bit of wall still hanging down. A bit of wall Lin Ling had been eyeing as it swung for a while now. A bit of wall hanging on by a single wire. He prayed his swallow wasn’t obvious. He knew his glance towards the rubble was.

Nice’s smile only widened from there. He’d caught both then. He’d caught them and liked to have made Lin Ling struggle with it. For a moment the world was suspended, Lin Ling tensing in preparedness and Nice’s slowly drifting backwards reaching for it.

Then, at the last second, he retracted his hand back to himself and laughed. Loudly.

“I’m only kidding,” he chortled out.

“Don’t look so serious. You’ll stress yourself out.” He was going to punt that man. Soon as he had the energy left to do so, Lin Ling was going to launch himself into the sky and absolutely tackle him into the dirt, punch that stupid smile off his face as Nice tried to do the same from below him. Ah. Not helpful. He pulled himself together and started towards the hole in the wall everyone had previously escaped from.

“I’m not doing this today.”

“Would you be more willing to do it tomorrow?” Lin Ling stopped to turn and glare at him. Nice still smiled stupidly. Like he expected it. Knowing him he did. Lin Ling scoffed and kept up his path, pretending he couldn’t see the figure floating by his side on their side.

“What a prude.”

“What an ass.”

“Why thank you.”

“You–” Lin Ling sucked in a breath, turning on his heel to point at the other.

“Leave me alone,” he warned. Nice still smiled.

“I mean it,” Lin Ling continued. His voice petered out as Nice floated closer and closer without having any clear intention of stopping.

“I’ve never been a fan of doing as I was told,” Nice said quietly. Lin Ling swallowed.

“Yeah. I got that.”

“Your attitude says different.”

“Maybe I just wanted to confirm.”

“Confirm I won’t listen to you?”

“Confirm you’re an asshole,” Lin Ling grit out as he shoved Nice away from him by his mask, feeling the cold metal beneath his hand, unyielding and smooth. Lin Ling didn’t feel it for long, tipping into the hole in the wall he was considering his exit as quickly as he could. No matter if he got the last word or not, Lin Ling could still hear Nice laughing behind him like he’d won. Ass. Pretty, perfect, ass.

The crowd cheered when Lin Ling emerged, crying and smiling and happy, so unbelievably so Lin Ling couldn’t help but deny most of their emotions as genuine. Some of them were sobbing, those closest to the girl when the roof started to fall looking dull and broken. One guy crying as he collapsed to the floor was nearly trampled on when other ran ahead to try and get to Lin Ling.

He smiled still, going and checking on people and keeping the mood up as he was supposed to. As he was always supposed to. Every once in a while he caught the sight of a white costume hiding in the walls. Every once in a while Lin Ling thought of acknowledging that costume of white. He never would though. He never did.

“You’ve got several suits against you for property damage,” Miss J reminded from in front of him. Lin Ling hummed in agreement as he stared out the window, praying that hiding his chin in his hand would soon hide the rest of his.

“There’s a dozen injured, along with that young girls funeral you’ll want to attend.”

“I thought she made it to the hospital,” Lin Ling murmured. He didn’t think his head could pound any harder than it currently was. Miss J shrugged.

“She did,” she confirmed, saying nothing else and letting Lin Ling stew in her words.

“There’s also a guy who wants you personally to come to his daughter’s birthday or he’ll make a case in court.”

“He could’ve just asked,” Lin Ling muttered.

“We would’ve denied him. You have an appearance in a weeks time, a press conference, and a public announcement.” He blinked, lifting his hand from his chin to look baffled at her.

“Do I have something to announce?” She sighed without looking up from her pad.

“Yes, Lin Ling, you do. You’re supposed to start dating Star Queen, remember?”

“Oh. No.”

“Well you are–”

“No I mean no. I told you I’m not doing that.” She paused, glancing up at him without lifting her head.

“And I told you you are.”

“I’m not,” Lin Ling argued.

“It’ll raise your trust. In fact, everytime you appear together your trust is raised. The people like you two together.”

“They like me for being me,” Lin Ling reminded. “I’m not changing that too.”

“Lin Ling.”

“Star Queen hates me. And I…she’s cool but I’m not interested either.” He tried not to let his mind wander after saying that. Definitely not to who he could be interested in. He didn’t succeed, but Lin Ling really truly tried.

“You’ve never been interested,” Miss j concluded, her teeth near grit as she clutched the pad in her hands. Lin Ling felt a trill of guilt run through him as he sank back in his seat. Even if he didn’t want to, he still worried for it. He still didn’t want to disappoint. He always did though. His head collapsed back against the headrest.

“I–”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted.

“You do everything else. I supposed I expected a push back one day.” Not on this though, she left unsaid. Lin Ling wondered why. Of all the things he’d been asked to do, why was this the one that made his blood curdle.

He tried to be okay with it. He really did, but.

The idea of sitting across from someone who didn’t like him for something that neither of them truly needed just in the instance that it might temporarily make things better for them made his stomach spin.

Unbidden the image of that smirking face came to mind. Lin Ling tried to ignore it, shutting his eyes and letting the car take him where it needed. Wherever it wanted even. He’d go anywhere. Just not here.

“When’s that girls funeral,” he asked in a quiet tone. Miss J answered in an equally dull voice.

“A week from now. I’ll send you the location.” The car stopped and his eyes stared out the window, a feeling he refused to describe growing in his stomach as he stared at the sign.

Dance studio. There were other words there of course but those were the only ones Lin Ling cared to read. He glanced quietly at Miss J who pointed to the door as though he might not remember where it was.

“Your bags in the back,” she said gently. He needn’t have another word of confirmation as he sprung from the vehicle, trying not to run as he grabbed his bag and headed inside to change.

There were others in the rooms, there always was, but none of them looked at him when he wandered in his day clothes. They never did. The cotton fabric scratched against his skin as he pushed into a crowded room, stretching against the cold floor in wonder of the lack of presence he caused.

A woman tripped over his leg and looked baffled at him like she didn’t realize he was there. A man almost managed to take the bar Lin Ling was still on before he let go. The room moved all around him at a pace just slightly ahead of his own. Just enough ahead of his own Lin Ling struggled to keep up.

His stomach heaved in exhaustion as he struggling to do so, a smile pulling at his lips as he managed to catch up and fall back again and again and again until a mat was almost pulled from beneath his feet by someone he did not know. Lin Ling felt as the world began to tilt beneath him, trying and failing to prepare for the fall that would inevitably sting and leave at least one bruise against his skin. Before it could fully slide though, a foot stomped down on it, halting the possibility of taking Lin Ling out.

“Can’t you see people are here,” a voice chimed out, annoyed and causing annoyance in turn. He did stop the mat from coming out beneath Lin Ling’s feet though that left him with the fact he now had to look at the newcomer. Nice stood without that ridiculous mask of his, a brow raised and staring down the guy who had been attempting to steal Lin Ling’s mat a second ago.

“Oh, uh. Sorry.”

“Good.” Lin Ling tried to keep from rolling his eyes as Nice turned to him, that stupid petty smile seemingly stuck to his face forever. Lin Ling wondered if he’d had surgery so he would forever look smug, even without having to move his face.

“You warmed up yet,” Nice asked. Lin Ling clenched his hands as he moved slowly from the center of the mat to pace circles around Nice. The man pretended not to notice, settling his own bag away and stretching his arms.

Lin Ling turned slowly, sweeping his leg above his head as he did so and letting their invisible rhythm begin. Something upbeat. Painful to keep up with. Rewarding when they did.

He stepped behind Nice, slipping over his shoulder as Nice turned into the move. Tracking Lin Ling’s steps through sound. Good. He’d warmed up as well.

Their hands caught together, desperately pulling and tugging as they spun trying to throw one another off. Then splitting again. Their rhythm changed once more, brought on by the sweep of Nice’s arms, waist bending in a bow directly before it changed. Slower. Sadder.

Lin Ling tried to follow. Such a rhythm called for more arms than legs. He was never very good at that part of the whole dance. Still, if it meant winning he would do it and he would do it well damnit.

His heart thundered in his chest, the slight slower tone of their dance harder for him to keep his pace with as his heart tried to cool down.

“Your legs lagging,” he told Nice, a jab and nothing more. It was enough for Nice to think they were now supposed to be talking though.

“And your arms aren’t swinging hard enough. Please keep up.”

“Ha!” He changed their rhythm this time, hands grasping at Nice’s leg while he was still swinging around and turning him into a partner dance. Nice reacted quick enough, though Lin Ling could still see the way his eyes widened at the move.

“Worry about yourself,” Lin Ling muttered when they swung close enough before turning Nice into a spin only kept steady by Lin Ling’s own hands on his waist and the laughter bursting from his throat.

“No wonder people worry for us,” Nice mused in a breathless voice. Lin Ling couldn’t help but agree, though he did so silently. He and the Commoner had never fought. Lin Ling and Nice fought all the time.

Nice didn’t change their tune. He changed their lead though, shifting until Lin Ling was simply dragged along. His heart thundered as he fought to do so, straining every muscle he was meant to be putting on rest and suspending his off time away from himself.

“Why don’t they see you,” Nice asked quietly by his ear. Lin Ling would have ignored him, planned to really, had the man not continued on to answer the question himself.

“You don’t have the kind of face someone ignores.” Keeping his lips pressed together Lin Ling spun around, trying to throw Nice off his side only to feel his arms grasped and pulled into a move that required two people, both forced to fully support one another or run risk injuring one another. Nice was already talking soon as they landed again. Like he hadn’t used any energy to do the move.

“Could it be something to do with your trust?”

“I’m someone just like them,” Lin Ling reminded. To that Nice scoffed.

“You’re more than them, little hero.”

“I’m one of them. A face you’ll see on the street and won’t take in. A common person.”

“No you’re the common person.”

“Not in their eyes.” Their rhythm changed. Not by his choice. He wondered if it was even by Nice’s choice. Suddenly he was simply circling Nice, their hands lined up at every turn like a pair, a dance in its truest nature. They worked in tandem, their fingers always ground together slipping against one another and then away again within a moment.

“I don’t get you,” Lin Ling finally stated. He didn’t know what else to say. Oddly it seemed Nice hadn’t expected it to be what Lin Ling said either.

“Meaning what?”

“You seem pretty proud to be a villain,” Lin Ling pointed out.

“Of course.”

“You don’t believe in hero’s.”

“Obviously.”

“Why do you talk with me?” His mouth hung open, still smiling but without anything to say. It almost made Lin Ling laugh to say. Rather, he switched their position again, turning quiet suddenly expecting Nice to follow. He didn’t. Instead he was left to spin and suddenly fall into Lin Ling’s arms.

“Woah, hey,” Lin Ling called. Nice stared at him, baffled either by their position or by the reaction he had had. Either way, it didn’t help the situation.

“You alright?”

“You’re not like those other hero’s. You know that, right?” Lin Ling blinked then frowned, stepping back away from the man and giving space to their situation.

Not like them? What was that supposed to mean? Did Nice think Lin Ling wasn’t good enough? Is that what he thought? Lin Ling stared at him, giving him no chance to escape.

“What’re you implying,” he demanded. It couldn’t be what he thought. It wouldn’t be. Nice wouldn’t–he didn’t think that. He couldn’t. Yet…Lin Ling clenched his hands.

Their rhythm was lost. They both knew it. Now they simply stood facing each other.

“It’s not an implication, little hero. You’re better than them.” He blinked.

“I’m what?”

“Come on. The Commoner–I mean even the name implies humility. You’ve got what a lot of those so called hero’s lack. A spirit,” Nice pressed out, stepping forwards and pressing a finger to Lin Ling’s chest. His tone had changed since he started speaking, words starting to be spoken faster and harsher. He wasn’t smiling anymore, Lin Ling noted. He hadn’t in a while.

“You’re a living breathing person who doesn’t stop being that way even after the costumes off. Look around you, how many of your fellow roommates would care about cleanup? Stop to make sure the birds cross the street? Care about that stupid flyer that kid lost.”

“He was distraught.”

“And you noticed. that’s a good thing.”

“Anyone could do that.”

“And anyone can be a hero. Except only a few exemplify that phrase.”

“I’m not the only one.”

“You’re the only one to me,” Nice murmured.

“You need to get out more then,” Lin Ling told him. At that, Nice smiled. The slightest quirk of his lip as his whole palm pressed to Lin Ling’s heart. He wished he would have thought the move was anything more than genuine appreciation.

“Uh, excuse me, we need this room,” a voice called and they both turned to look. A woman stood protectively in front of a class behind her, genuinely looking as though she couldn’t decide whether to stand her ground or change rooms. Instantly Lin Ling pressed a smile to his face and laughed.

“Sorry sorry! We’ll head out!”

“He will,” Nice mumbled. Lin Ling silently reached over and grasped the man’s arm, tugging him towards both their bags. Nice let himself be dragged, still frowning at the woman until Lin Ling let him go and slipped to the floor to set his things away.

“We have every right to be here.”

“So do they,” Lin Ling reminded.

“Your ideals annoy me.”

“And yours annoy me. Don’t forget your hat.”

“Ah, thanks.” Quietly Lin Ling grasped his phone and sent a text to Miss J, telling her he’d walk home before sweeping his bag back up onto his shoulder and tapping his foot in wait.

Nice took his time, as he always did, then stood with a smile against his face and his hat settled over his hair. The class might not have made the connection yet, but there was always the chance if Nice kept his hair uncovered. Lin Ling apologized again as they slipped past the crowd out into the street, the loud noise of the city pressing into his senses along with fresh air.

“You don’t have to run, you know,” Nice murmured from next to him, watching the city move around them without any clear emotion.

“I’m not going to strut everywhere either. Unlike some people.”

“I don’t strut. I stride.”

“Same thing,” Lin Ling uttered, his annoyance seeping into his tone as Nice began their walk and left Lin Ling to keep up.

“I’m striding right now, that means something.”

“You’re not trying to steal Crown Jewels right now, it doesn’t count.”

“Oh that was one time. Would you let that go.”

“Of course not.”

“It was humiliating,” Nice grumbled to which Lin Ling smiled.

“It was hilarious.”

“As fun as this is,” Nice breathed as he pulled to a stop facing one way while Lin Ling faced another.

“My turn, and yours. I’ll be on my way, little hero,” Nice called delighted, smiling in spite of their conversation as he did so. Lin Ling tried not to let his own smile show as he turned quietly.

“Just don’t hurt yourself before next week.”

“Same to you!” They split. Same place they always did. Lin Ling sighed as he swayed down the street, limbs swinging freely without the stress that had held them up in the car earlier. When did he start using their dances to relieve stress? When did it start working? Hell, if he wanted to get into it, when did Lin Ling start to simply trust when the villain showed up.

He couldn’t even recall when it happened. All he could recall was when they met.

Eons ago now, so far off Lin Ling was still not a hero yet, clearing rubble and helping family’s with their love one’s retrieval. Both the ones who lived and the ones who did not. Lin Ling knew it wasn’t the most glamours job, or even his job at all.

Someone needed to do it though, and the hero’s were known for running from the scene once their villain was gone. Leaving it all behind. Leaving the people behind.

His hands had been scrapped raw by now, bleeding and aching in ways he wouldn’t have known a few months ago. It used to be paper cuts Lin Ling worried about. A stray staple or two. Never this. The rubble needed to be moved though, and Lin Ling was the only one in his group that could work on this area reliably. The others were within hearing distance should he need help and he knew they were, but for now Lin Ling was quite alone.

“Lift with your knees,” a voice had called, startling Lin ling into falling over and dropping the rock. It might’ve landed on his feet should another hand not caught it and tossed it away.

Frowning, Lin Ling looked up and saw a man there, startlingly beautiful and glowing in the midday light. His white hair shone like a halo with the sun behind it, eyes cold staring down at Lin Ling in a dull uncaring void that left him shivering in its wake.

“Wh–what?”

“You need to lift with your knees,” the man repeated, his tone soothing and deep. Lin Ling shivered for a different reason this time.

“You’ll throw out your back.”

“How did you lift that,” he mumbled, more trying to figure it out himself but rather managing to catch the man’s attention when he spoke.

“Why wouldn’t I be able to lift it?” What kind of response was that? What kind of response was any of this? Was Lin Ling hallucinating? On drugs? Did he fall asleep and not notice?

No, he shook himself. He was awake and definitely not hallucinating. The situation was simply so genuinely confusing he couldn’t reconcile that fact from his own bafflement.

Quietly he looked over the man’s outfit, his stomach slowly but surely starting to sink as details sank into place. The white outfit, a cloak draped over his shoulders until it reached the floor, a blue gem sat cracked against his chest with gold seeping from it. Against his face though, a lack of something. That same something that would have made Lin Ling recognize him instantly had he only been wearing it.

“Don’t you wear a mask,” Lin Ling said numbly.

“Oh. You’re right.” The man smiled. Not the kind of smile he wanted to see, horrifying and honest as he reached into his pocket and withdrew the exact mask Lin Ling knew he was meant to be wearing, cold and metallic. He secured it to his face quickly and easily, practiced movements making it seem simple.

“There we go. That could have been a problem.” It seemed like a problem now, Lin Ling thought. He’d seen the villains face. He’d seen it.

Lin Ling’s hands shook below him, instantly telling him his legs would be shaking far harder and proving to him he wouldn’t be capable of standing now. He needed to though. He needed to get up. He needed to get up!

“This place is a mess,” the man said. Instantly Lin Ling felt his heart alight. It was a mess. It was an absolute mess caused by a villain that didn’t care whether it hurt people or not. Like this guy.

His knees shook beneath him as he stood, exactly as Lin Ling knew they would. He didn’t fall though. He stayed upright glaring with his hands clenched at his side.

“Are you going to help clean it up,” Lin Ling asked quietly, almost a whisper even to himself. The guy hummed as he looked to Lin Ling like he hadn’t expected him to talk.

“If you’re not here to help you’re not here at all. Get lost!” His heart beat so loud he almost couldn’t hear himself, the rushing noise in his ears leaving them ringing as his knees tried to collapse. He didn’t let them.

If this guy was going to kill Lin Ling then he was going down while he stood tall. If it was the last thing he did. He didn’t though. He didn’t strike Lin Ling nor yell. He did something far odder. He stopped and turned his entire body towards Lin Ling. Like he wanted him to have his attention.

“What’s your name.” Lin Ling opened his mouth, halfway to answering before he caught himself.

“I’m not telling you that,” he said instead. The villain smiled as he tilted his head to Lin Ling, a silent threat there behind the movement.

“I’ll find out eventually.”

“Not from me telling you, you won’t.” A laugh. A genuine laugh. For that of all things. Almost made him worry more.

“Alright nameless wonder. You’re no hero. What’re you doing in a place like this?” Lin Ling’s stomach seized for a moment. He’d forgotten where he was. What he was doing. Instantly he crouched down and started moving things again.

“Looking for someone’s mother,” he called upon remembering the other asked a question. He expected a quip. Some kind of cruel jab or mean comment. Nothing came. He kept working, his annoyance slowly building until he found himself muttering angrily.

“Not everyone has to be a hero,” Lin Ling mumbled to himself, not meaning to sound enraged but knowing it came out that way anyways. What did this guy know though. Acting high and mighty and above him.

“What was that?” He paused. Had he heard Lin Ling? No there should be no way. He was quiet and a few feet away! Then again, he was a villain. For all Lin Ling knew they had super hearing. Even then though, he wasn’t going to back down. Lin Ling raised his head to look at him.

“Not everyone has to be a hero to do something. Anyone can be a hero, if they act it.” At that the guy said nothing. He didn’t do anything either, leaving Lin Ling to continue in his lifting and moving things.

A shame settled over his being, a deep embarrassment to have said that out loud clouding him. He didn’t let it show. No way would he regret saying that. Even if it left him with cheeks burning like the sun.

He was standing over a corridor of some kind. He didn’t know which one, or whether there might even be space beneath it. Just that he had to move these rocks. A noise like rubble moving met his ears. Blinking he paused as though it might’ve been an echo. When it continued without him moving, Lin Ling looked up and found the villain starting to shift rubble aside as well.

His mouth began to open, just for a second, before Lin Ling caught himself and shut it again. He wouldn’t ruin this. Not when the help would actually be good.

They lifted bits of roof and rubble together, most of the big lifting done by the man in the mask, until a tiny bit came way and revealed a hand. Lin Ling gasped as he tried further to free it, their fingers wiggling in exhaustion as he did his best.

Then she spilled free of the wall, gasping through tears huddled in Lin Ling’s arms. Her fingers gripped his arms hard enough to bruise, face hidden against his shirt mumbling nothings against him. He tried to comfort her and felt himself failing at it. Still though he tried, keeping calm until the others were signaled and paramedics could pull her away to check her over.

Lin Ling had managed to lose track of the masked man a while ago. He wasn’t sure of the exact time in which he did, he simply knew one minutes Lin Ling was next to him and the next he was gone. For the better he supposed. It’s not like he needed the guy.

He sighed as he scratched his head, wandering back to the rubble to start anew. Soon as he turned the corner though a body caught his hand and pulled him away. With a yelp, Lin Ling fell into them. He didn’t know someone could be so cold.

“You did a good thing,” the masked man commented. Lin Ling frowned as he pulled his hand free and pushed the man away.

“Yeah, well, you…you did too. I guess,” Lin Ling admitted unhappily. The man smiled across from him, like Lin Ling’s discomfort was funny to him.

“I’m Nice, by the way.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“It’s only polite to introduce oneself first after all.”

“I’m still not giving you my name.” Nice laughed. A hearty thing that shook his shoulders and left his head tilting back even if it was only the slightest bit. Nice stepped back, raising his hand in a little wave as his feet took to the sky and kept him there.

“Goodnight, little hero,” he called. Lin Ling almost wanted to defend himself for that. He didn’t. Rather he shut his mouth and tried not to grumble over the situation. Little hero. Neither words were correct. He quietly looked back where he’d left the scene though. No one needed to know he liked that. Not even him. Quietly, Lin Ling got back to work.

That had been the first of their meetings. It had not been the last. Far from it. Lin Ling tried to keep from sighing too hard as he pulled his jacket tighter around himself.

Distantly a scream echoed through his thoughts. Loud. Jarring.

He stopped and peered about, trying to find where it came from and was left unable to locate it. Another one, piercing through his skull only to stop abruptly halfway through. Lin Ling bolted in its directions, body moving without thought following the noise to a street over where buildings once sat. Once. Now they–

“Fuck.”

They were flattened. Nothing but rubble and dust and blood spurting from nothing, pipes bursting and forcing the water to turn pink running down the street.

Screaming people still stood at the end of the street, a direct line made from where the damage had been computed to what had happened now. Lin Ling tugged his jacket on, becoming enough of the Commoner to be recognizable as he ran in.

“Everybody clear out,” he commanded of those at the end of the street. No one stood amongst the rubble. Not a villain not a hero not a reporter nothing. Just Lin Ling alone on this street.

Fuck.

Fuck!

He ran to the nearest collapse.

He felt their eyes on him, their cameras, their entire focus solely on him. He ignored them.

Lin Ling grasped at the rubble, forcing his way in and under and pulling up every bit of rock he could. This street was all offices, all of them. Midday meant there was nothing but people in these buildings.

A hand without a body appeared below him. He pushed beyond that.

Something, anything. He could find them. He would save them.

He pushed further and further.

Someone would be alive. Someone would be alive and wondering when they got there and begging for relief from the darkness and he pushed and pushed and pushed yet he–

Lin Ling never found an intact body. Nothing more than scraps and blood. Nothing identifying. Nothing at all.

Night pushed in. Clean up crews joined his side. Volunteer rescue appeared, machinery was brought out to drag the big bits away. Through it all he saw that same look on everyone’s faces slowly dawn one by one. That same realization over the situation. That singular resignation to the fact there was no one here. No one living. Not even the dead. All of them, gone.

Hands tugged at him as the sky turned the wrong shade, eyes pulled from the scene no matter how he tried to fight it as he was ripped from their remains and into the clean seat of a car he held no preference towards. The ac pumped out air faster than it was needed, his skin covered in a fine layer of goosebumps before they’d ever pulled from the scene.

“I could have kept going,” he told his passenger after only a moment of the car moving.

“You’ve done enough.” Her tone was odd, he thought. Snappish and annoyed. Quietly Lin Ling looked at her. She wasn’t holding a pad, he realized. She was just sitting a cross from him, staring.

“What,” he asked. His voice still shook when he spoke, raw from having shouted instructions for so long in an attempt to keep people going. She let out a short breath as her arms crossed.

“Why weren’t you there.” His heart stuttered.

“What?”

“Why weren’t you there? You said you had left, your location should have matched up with the street if you were moving at a pace for only you. Why weren’t you there.”

“I–” he stopped and shook his head.

“They’re all dead, Lin Ling. While you were out galavanting with a villain they died.” His heart stuttered, body shuddering beneath him against the seat. For a moment she didn’t seem to take note of his pause. When she did though it was with a look of annoyance.

“You didn’t think I didn’t know about your little affair did you?”

“I…” he didn’t. No that’s not true. He figured she would know. She knew everything. He just…he didn’t expect her to throw it in his face.

She seemed to realize that a second later, face collapsing for a second before she’d turned away where Lin Ling couldn’t see. He tried breathing, knowing it didn’t come in right and ignoring it.

“There are other hero’s who could’ve stepped in,” he said quietly. She didn’t turn around.

“You’re the one most common on these scenes–”

“There are still other hero’s. Any of which could have done something at any time.”

“Not that close to them.”

“I can’t control these things. Not every fight is scheduled. Not every death is created for entertainment. Maybe you’ve forgotten, sitting behind that screen of yours, but people still have free will. They can still choose to be bad on their own.”

“It’s your job to keep them from doing it.”

“I tried,” he cried.

“I tried! It happened so fast, Miss J! I didn’t even see them collapse! No one did! It just…” he shook his head, voice trailing off as the air cleared back into silence. Only the air conditioning filled their ears.

“You’ve an appearance tomorrow on a talk show downtown. They will ask you about it.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“I can. Act accordingly.” He stayed silent then, riding until his home came up and he left. Hero’s tower was silent around him, each floor silenced from one another as though the idea of hearing those living around you would be the worst possible outcome.

His joints ached in the exhaustion of their dance, furthered by his crawling around in rubble for hours. Silently he went to unpack his bag, a shirt slipping out he did not recognize the look of but recognized the scent to. Nice must’ve dropped it in by accident.

Lin Ling grasped the material into his hands. Soft. Surprisingly so. He glanced about the room, finding nothing out of place nor cameras pointed towards him. He lifted it to his nose, breathing in the new scent like a prayer.

She was right. He was out galavanting with Nice instead of doing his job. He had no right to be angry for being the one who had to step in. How often was it he didn’t have to?

Lin Ling should put the shirt down. Pack it back into the bag and pretend never to have noticed it. He should have forgotten it was there and gone on with his night and yet…and yet. It was softer against his skin than he thought it would be, so much softer as he curled into his bed with it.

Talk shows were a specific brand of hell Lin Ling did not willingly want to subject his own worst enemy to.

The cold air making it impossible to be comfortable, the way every single person always smiled onstage while he was there even if he was telling them about dismembering someone, the quiet whispers of those who thought he wouldn’t notice. The weird treatment as though it was a good and odd thing for him to have agreed to speaking with them.

Lin Ling had never found comfort in these things. Miss J knew that. She didn’t care.

Lin Ling adjusted his collar again, finding no way to get the microphone to sit comfortably against his neck. Either it itched against him or it stabbed at his side until he had to readjust it again and the situation was repeated.

A woman sat across from him messing with her own microphone, though her movements were clearly just trying to hide its existence. A fact Lin Ling was sure he would have been worried over if he could be bothered to care.

“Your publicist said she got our question set, have you,” she asked. Lin Ling didn’t bother asking who his publicist was. Miss J would be doing everything except representing him in court. For now at least, he’d seen her googling how to become a lawyer online before. He’d never brought it up. It wouldn’t lead to anything good. Rather than saying any of that out loud he smiled to the anchor.

“Yes ma’am. I’m well prepared.” She smiled in return. Well, no, she had been smiling the entire time, now it just seemed a little less pinched at the sides.

“Great. Well I’ll try and make this as painless as possible then, hmm?”

“Yes. Thank you.” His stomach twisted below him. Quietly Lin Ling peered about the studio. It was a nice enough space, windows off to the side letting in natural light as the sun shown brightly inwards. Curtains dangled besides it, surely for when it became too much to handle, or too dark. Cameras set up all around the room pointed in various directions caught the many sights to their studio as people bustles around every which way they could.

A comfortable chaos, he imagined. For them at least. To him it simply looked like chaos. Horrifying and complete chaos.

“Cameras role in two minutes,” someone warned loudly from the side. People started to scramble even further. Lin Ling couldn’t stop himself from looking around though. The situation didn’t feel right, his gut twisting in sureness of that fact.

“Cameras ready in ten!” What didn’t feel right though? Nothing moved weird, nothing seemed off. Everything looked perfectly normal for a studio. What then.

Distant music started and he snapped to, Miss J’s training making it impossible for him not to react. He smiled and sat perfectly, reflecting exact as he’d been trained for and keeping up his image. They chatted on through their introductions as he tried to keep himself from glancing around at what could have been making his stomach feel that way.

“We’re here today with the nations very own hero, the Commoner! Tell me, Commoner–I’m sorry, I feel as though I’m insulting you calling you that.” Lin Ling laughed, like he was supposed to, waving her off with the hand he was meant to.

“I get it all the time, it’s no issue.” It was an issue. There was a difference between calling him that in mockery and joy. She had chosen mockery.

“Well then, I’ll go on. I heard about the attack yesterday. Is it true when you arrived on scene a find a portion of downtown was already flattened? How could something like that happen so quickly?” He hated when Miss J was spot on like this.

“The situation is dire and we’re looking for the culprit as we speak. How they did it so fast is something I haven’t yet learned.” He wondered if they could hear the shake in his tone. The practiced syllables to his sentence. The lie and cruel joke he was playing on himself. Lin Ling tried to distract himself in any way he could. Pick at the hems of his costume, tap his toes in his shoes, breathe irregularly to keep busy.

“Ah, enough about that then. Let’s get further into this interview.” She sounded happy. Lin Ling couldn’t imagine sounding happy right now. His eyes fell to the window across the way. They stayed there.

“Let’s start with this. Your rise to becoming hero was quite an unexpected thing wasn’t it,” she continued. Lin hummed in agreement while staring through the window. Something was moving towards them. Well, no. He could be wrong. It could be going anywhere. It could even be a smudge on the window his tired body was imagining as a moving object. It just…his gut told him it was coming towards them. He trusted his gut.

“To go from marketing agent to hero. It’s quite the feat. First you started helping on crash scenes correct? Then that encounter with beast child shot you up through the ranks.”

“Uh-huh, beast child was in desperate need of help.” A structure of some sort. A beam maybe. Something big. Something dangerous. Lin Ling stood.

“Wh–no, I’m saying you did good defeating…my apologies, but are you listening to me?”

“All of you out now,” he called, grasping the emergency button at the wall and letting his fingers sink through the glass without worry. Finally the others seemed to take note of the beam coming towards them and acted appropriately and quickly, for once. Must’ve been prepared for this kind of thing. He couldn’t imagine a news outlet not being trained. Right, he could take care of this then.

That’s when everything turned sideways and wrong, his body being pulled disproportionately into different directions as he fought and found himself upside down sideways and fully lost.

The room was moving. Not him. He knew he wasn’t moving by the dizziness and general unease. He wasn’t moving. The entire world was though.

Lin Ling grit his teeth and fought to catch the wall, suddenly stilled as his fingers cramped and he was forced to watch as the building which had been a studio minutes ago turned to a twisted nothing.

People were still trying to get out, the metal bending and breaching to trap them further inside, shrinking towards them like it wanted to flatten the entire room.

Lin Ling felt his fingers let the wall go, falling through the air to hold the metal back, punching and kicking and fighting until it relented and their group got out, freeing him to free another. To keep fighting and freeing those caught in the attack until he fell from the building.

There was no warning. One moment he was getting them out. The next, he fell sideways through a window and suddenly struck at the concrete ground outside.

Something crunched beneath him. A car? Maybe? A window? He didn’t know.

Lin Ling just stared at the thing before him. What was once a building. What no longer resembled anything human beings could make. What no longer could house a single living soul.

It crashed to the floor. A nothing. A giant ball of nothing with only one thing that was clear. Lin Ling’s face on the front of it all, a screen with a crack through his skull and his face smiling unknowingly. His comm rang, his fingers shaking as he pressed answer. He knew who it would be. It couldn’t be anyone else.

“What is this,” Miss J demanded. Her voice cracked through the connection. WiFi must’ve been affected, he thought distantly. Lin Ling looked at the ball, feeling his eyes move and settle on it and yet only able to see its blurred outline. His mind was elsewhere. His focus, elsewhere.

“He’s targeting me,” he told her. He knew she would understand. She always did.

“Okay,” she said, her voice shaking. Then, she fixed it.

“Okay. Go, do your thing. I’ll take care of the fallout. There are other hero’s who will step in for help.” He nodded despite knowing she couldn’t see. It didn’t matter. She’d know anyways. Lin Ling made a single step towards the ball of metal and gore.

And then the call came. And another. And another. All for buildings collapsing. All with very few survivors.

Lin Ling responded to each one. He ran and bolted and forced his way in and around and pushed and pushed and pushed.

He held metal away he yelled for them to get out he screamed for someone to come help and save them and he–

Lin Ling pushed. He pushed. And pushed. And pushed. Sleep wasn’t necessary. Eating wasn’t necessary. He had an issue. A crisis. A job. And then…

Then he felt his hands below him holding metal foundation up.

He felt his knees bending and creaking below him and fighting to keep upright.

He felt his blood pooling in his skull as it rushed from his arms.

He felt everything all around him, human and normal and too much. Too, too much. Exhaustion. Plain and simple. He didn’t even know he could feel exhausted. Let alone the extreme amount he felt right now.

Just a little more he told himself. A little more, Lin Ling. Save the day. Keep them all alive. Lift. Lift. Lift!

It fell away. It all fell away. His hands were free and suddenly he was left to stand in the withering heat staring at the empty space around him. Everyone was gone. Everyone was safe. Everyone but him.

The building had stopped moving. Finally. He wondered if they were as exhausted as he was. He couldn’t imagine being more tired than he felt right now. He couldn’t imagine anything right now.

Lin Ling smiled. He tried to at least. His lips wouldn’t pull right. The sun glared down at him harshly, as though it were trying to take its revenge out on him for something he couldn’t control. His skin beaded in sweat.

Lin Ling managed a step, just the single one, before his body started to lull sideways. He caught himself, barely, against the rubble he had tossed aside only a second ago.

Fuck, he…the world wasn’t supposed to turn like that was it. No, his mind was turning the world for him.

Lin Ling tried to take another step, simply falling over into the cracked wall. It creaked beneath his weight, more so when he fought to get himself upright and at least standing. He couldn’t…the place was unstable. It was.

When he looked up he could still see things creaking above him, lights hung by cords and furniture hanging halfway through the floor. It wouldn’t be safe, he thought, to lay down here. He couldn’t keep himself safe, he reminded, if he laid down here.

His feet wouldn’t move though. What was he supposed to do when his feet wouldn’t move? A groan escaped him at the sun still beaming on his skin.

“Oh my,” a voice greeted. Lin Ling couldn’t bring himself to even groan in frustration, feeling it curse through his veins anyways as he let his face turn downcast away from him. He couldn’t look at him. He didn’t want him to see Lin Ling like this. Not when he couldn’t even defend himself. Not like this.

“This is a mess,” Nice chortled out. Mocking. Yet he…Lin Ling didn’t hear him come closer. Lifting his head he tried to stave off the dizziness that came with it, eyes desperate to find him before it was too late and the world tilted. He could already feel his knees starting to collapse from beneath him. God.

He was going to collapse. He was going to collapse in front of this guy. Show weakness. Again.

“Nice,” Lin Ling breathed out in greeting as his eyes finally found him, hovering over the floor only a few feet away smiling perfectly like he always did. That annoying ass smile he seemed to love faking, staining his perfectly fine face in its visage.

“Little hero, you’ve missed our lessons. For three weeks. Now I find you here and you look…like hell. Are you alright.” Lin Ling made sure he stood upright when he answered, perfectly so.

“Why? You wanna test it?” He prayed no. Truly, Lin Ling was praying no. Nice didn’t stop smiling as he landed on the floor like common folk, an odd thing to see. Incredibly so.

Lin Ling wondered when the last time he’d seen the man actually standing on the ground with his mask on was. Had he really been flying around like a freak this entire time?

He pushed the thought away. It wasn’t important right now. What was important was praying Nice didn’t decide today was the day to pick a fight. A fight Lin Ling would lose. Pathetically so. Even if only a verbal one. He didn’t think he could take his hand from the rubble beside him or he might collapse.

“Another time.”

“Why’re you here then,” Lin Ling grit out. Nice stepped closer again, raising his arms as though posing to have been painted. Like Lin Ling would want a photo. He did not.

“Can’t I visit my favorite after he’s done such a heroic deed?” He could. If it were any other time Lin Ling might even encourage it. Right now all he could do was glare as the rubble creaked dangerously beneath his hand.

“You’ve seen me. Now go.” That smile fell away from Nice’s face. Not in annoyance as he wanted it to be. No, it almost looked worried.

“You’re far from the picture of victorious right now,” Nice pointed out. Lin Ling tried to respond, shifting and locking his knees into place by accident, sending a new wave of dizziness through him. All that came out of his mouth in the end was a choked off whine. That wiped the last of the smile from Nice’s face as he dropped his arms to his side.

“Little hero. You don’t look well.” He was right. Lin Ling knew he was. He still didn’t appreciate the tone in which Nice had used to relay the information. Too polite. Too soft. Like friends. If they weren’t in costume maybe. If they were anyone else, maybe. Not like this though. Not as they were.

“I’m doing just fine,” Lin Ling grit out. Nice went to say something, Lin Ling prepared for him up say something. Then the rubble beneath his hand gave away though, his final support giving out as the world spun.

Lin Ling pitched forwards, feeling in his bones the fact he couldn’t move, not anymore, and accepting the fact he was about to collapse at Nice’s feet like a fool. Of all people…yes. Of all people.

He couldn’t stop it. Lin Ling already felt in himself he couldn’t.

Hands caught at him suddenly, body pitched not into the hard surface of the floor but instead into cool arms that wrapped themselves around him securely. As though afraid they might hurt him.

Fuck.

He should fight this. He should. He wasn’t supposed to be like this with a villain, especially one that wasn’t his nemesis. If there were cameras he might’ve. Ah. Who was he kidding. Even if news reporters were currently shoving a camera in his face he wouldn’t fight it. It was Nice after all.

Lin Ling let his head lull onto Nice’s shoulder, hearing the man call his name in a panic a second before his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

His arms were full of a hero. No. Not just any hero. Nice was holding the commoner. The most beloved hero in their nation. His little hero. He was holding him in his arms as he fainted, feeling as the man’s body went fully lax in his arms and he drifted to sleep.

Nice’s heart exploded in his chest, hands shaking beneath the hero’s figure as he tried to find something wrong. No blood. No scratches. No magic. No nothing. If he didn’t know any better Nice might’ve assumed he was exhausted.

He didn’t think a hero like the commoner could be exhausted. But then…he was the people’s hero. He was bound to have something happen.

Nice pressed his lips together, peering down at the body in his arms slumbering away. He’d lulled his head into Nice’s shoulder, that had been before he passed out. Nice knew it had. They weren’t supposed to do that though. The commoner wasn’t supposed to trust Nice with this.

Who they were in that dance studio, they could trust one another. The commoner wouldn’t do this with how they currently looked though. He was a hero. Nice wasn’t. He…

Quietly he gathered the hero more securely into his arms and feeling the man’s heat against his hands. Nice lifted off the ground easily, hearing the sound of people trying to break through the wall all around him. Pitiful if you asked him. Incredibly unnecessary as well.

He didn’t stop them of course, simply letting himself float higher and higher until he could take them away from this place. Away from the responsibilities and the parts they were meant to play and the possibility they might try to take him away from Nice when the hero had been the one to fall into him.

He fell into Nice’s arms. Not theirs.

He didn’t stir the entire way back, letting Nice settle them into his home and lower the hero onto his own bed. The couch was too short to be comfortable and Nice would take himself out back and end it all before he laid the man on the ground when he clearly needed rest right now.

His hero looked at peace there amongst Nice’s sheets, face flush with natural heat and breathing steadily. Exhausted. He was exhausted. So obviously so now that he was resting. Even Nice could tell. He could tell even when the man was asleep.

How pathetic. How annoying. How utterly awful.

No other hero could step in of course. Why would they. They could just rely on the commoner. A bunch of weak pathetic annoying bastards. Using the hero like this against that creep of a villain, rather than helping and saving as they were supposed to. Leaving him to Nice like common trash.

What if he’d been insane? What if he wanted the hero dead or injured or lost? What if Nice was a villain? Quietly he sighed, pressing the back of his hand to the hero’s cheek. In his sleep the body below him snuggled into the cool feeling of Nice’s hand.

The action made him smile stupidly. Too stupidly. More than he was willing to feel pulling at his cheeks.

Nice took his hand away again. He couldn’t…no. He couldn’t look at him anymore. Rather his eyes moved to the wall behind the hero, the angles and marks and things he needed to remove before his hero woke and became sentient again. Of course, he suspected that would take a while yet, leaving Nice to shrug the thought away and start back out of the room.

He’d gone grocery shopping recently. How delightful. Rest and food. All thanks to Nice. Yes. Once he woke then Nice could do as he pleased. Once the hero woke again, Nice would settle them back into their positions and roles.

For now, he left to set a pot of soup on the stove. One with enough to feed an army. Funny enough, he had a feeling the commoner wasn’t a light eater.

It took less time than he thought it would to hear someone rummaging in the room over. Long enough still for the soup to grow ready, but still less time than he’d been suspecting. It started in a low intake of breath, then the stumbling and crash of someone freeing themselves from blankets. Lastly the shuffling of feet, and the appearance of a face high groggy and horrified.

“Sleep well,” Nice jested. The face that greeted his joke did not seem to appreciate it.

“Where am I,” he demanded. Nice shrugged as he pulled out two bowls and a ladle.

“My house. Don’t worry, the asbestos was cleared eons ago.” The glass clicked together when he set them down, filling them evenly then adding more to one on a whim. The hero still hovered there in the doorway though, a cute baffled look about him. Nice wanted to smile.

“Come on, little hero. I’m not going to hurt you.” Somehow that only seemed to make him look more suspicious. Nice slid the bowl across the counter towards him, watching it stop perfectly before the hero in delight.

“It’s not poisoned,” Nice promised.

“Do you want me to eat too?” He didn’t wait for an answer, grasping his spoon in hand and finding suddenly they were having dinner together. Like normal people. The hero picked at the soup for a moment before taking to actually trying the slightest bite of it. A pause.

Nice held his breathe hoping the hero wouldn’t notice him simply staring at the man eating. Even if he did though, Nice doubted it would make him look away.

The hero breathed out something then, a moan and gasp mixed together that let Nice fully incapable of faking a smile anymore.

Not like it mattered though as the hero began to down the food like his life depended on it. Nice wondered if it might actually depend on it. At the speed he ate, it might. He definitely hadn’t given him enough food.

“When did you last sleep,” Nice asked when he thought the hero might actually be in the mind place to be breathing again. Seemed he was correct too as the other glanced up with soup dripping from the corner of his mouth. Cute.

“Dunno what day it is.”

“Tuesday.”

“Fuck.” A while then. Nice leaned back in his chair with his fingers folded together atop the table, staring at the hero and waiting for him to catch up. The bowl was cleared and he stole what was left of Nice’s own before speaking. A fact he did not fault him for. A fact he wanted to use further. A later discussion.

Right now though, the hero was eating inhumanly quick. Like he was planning to leave directly after.

“You should slow down,” Nice warned. The silverware clattered down when the hero slid it away from him, both bowls emptied entirely.

“Cant stop. I have to go.”

“No.” The hero paused, his hands clutching the table and back of his chair like he was about to get up, stopped only by Nice’s command.

“No?”

“No.”

“I have a job–”

“Your job is now being held hostage. Congrats!”

“Wh–I am not your hostage.”

“Congrats!”

“I’m not going to be held here. I’ve got stuff to do!”

“Congrats–”

“Stop saying that.” Nice kept his smile up on his face, tilting his head in the way he knew the hero hated by the twitch in his lips everytime Nice did it.

“Nice,” the hero cried, standing up with his palms flat on the table.

“Yes?”

“Nice.”

“Yes.”

“Nice,” he repeated again, voice quieting to his normal tone.

“People are in danger.” He truly believed that. He was right, but Nice wondered if the hero even noticed why they were in danger. How they were in danger. Quietly he stared at the man and waited. Quietly the hero sat back down with crossed arms.

“There aren’t any other hero’s,” his hero spoke. “They won’t help.”

“No. They wouldn’t. This thing is targeting you after all. There’s no reason to yet.”

“Exactly. Which is why I need to go.”

“It’s why you have to stay.” If bafflement was an exact look, it would be the one worn across his hero’s face.

“There are others, hero. They will step in soon as the target changes from just you. For now, you’re the favorite. Haven’t you noticed? Always collapsing buildings within a running distance, leading you around. Exhausting you. Stay here. Rest. Heal. Think.”

“I can’t.” Quietly Nice reached across the table, untangling his own fingers to encapsulate the hero’s beneath his.

“Do you know the death toll of this,” Nice asked quietly. Across from him the other gaped, his fingers twitching halfway between pulling away and tugging closer. Nice shook his head.

“I don’t want the number any higher. Not for you. Not because of you. Please, little hero.” The other shook his head, drawing his hands together beneath Nice’s own as though to fully pull back. Nice leaned forwards in his seat, desperation seeping into his tone.

“Little hero. Please. I don’t say this lightly. I cannot lose you.”

“Thought you didn’t like me.”

“If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t dance with you.” He had to know that. There was no way Nice had not made that obvious in their moves. Sure they were usually pulling and tugging and fighting each other, but they couldn’t have had any of that without the trust and support they provided at all times to one another in the first place. The love shared between them as dancers. The love Nice spread openly to his partner. Or, the love he thought was spread openly.

Judging by the shock, he had been wrong. He thought about retracting his hands, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Especially if that meant he might not hold his hero again. Instead he let out a short breath and leaned back on his seat.

“Look, little hero–”

“It’s Lin Ling.” That gave him pause. No. Pause was too short a word.

Nice stopped dead. Couldn’t move couldn’t breathe couldn’t do anything, because the little hero had said something. He’d said something big. He’d said his name.

Nice needn’t have asked if that was what it was. He knew instantly what it had been. He didn’t think though…shit.

“Please, Lin Ling. Stay.” The others eyes fluttered, so utterly beautiful it distracted Nice. As he always did.

“I don’t know what to do,” the hero admitted. Nice couldn’t help but smile as he lifted a hand, reaching out to swipe his fingers over the man’s lips and chin, holding his head up best he could.

“I do. Let others help. Let me help. Stay.” Beautiful and exhausted. That’s how he would describe the hero. The man. Lin Ling.

“Okay,” Lin Ling breathed. Nice’s heart exploded in his chest.

He’d said yes. Nothing could have prepared him for that fact. He’d said yes! Oh no. Oh no no no.

He didn’t know what else to say. What was he supposed to say? Thank you? How could he ever thank him? There was too much. Far too much.

Thankfully the hero made the choice for him, yawning heavily and collapsing over their held hands, snuggling his cheek further into Nice’s palm as he did so. Nice sucked in a breath at the feeling of the man’s forehead touching his skin, the way his skin warmed Nice’s instantly.

“I can’t get up.”

“You–huh?”

“I’m too tired.” He was joking. He’d had to be. When he didn’t move though Nice began to consider the idea he wasn’t joking. What did that leave him though. Silently he rose from his chair and floated over the table, landing besides the man and scooping him into his arms. So warm.

His room sat cold and empty when he let them in. Lin Ling didn’t do much more than shift in his arms, breathing out quietly as Nice settled him down back into the blankets. The couch would probably be comfortable enough. Certainly for now. Maybe later on they could–

Nice felt a hand catch his wrists before he could pull away, his palms pressed to Lin Ling’s face by the man himself, almost managing to hide the man’s red cheeks beneath his cool fingers. He was so warm. Beautifully warm.

“Make another choice for me,” Lin Ling asked. Nice thought about collapsing before him, begging the man to let him make every choice he could to keep this moment. His knees buckled in readiness to do so before he caught himself. Rather he smiled and let his body collapse and slide into the bed besides his hero.

“If I must.” He slipped his arm about the others waist, not waiting for the chance to beg whether that was alright or not, and quietly glared to the wall across the way. His board. His photos. He’d need to get them down by morning.

It was a good thing they’d managed so long without his hero noticing, but Nice had no hope that would last forever. He let his eyes slip shut. He’d remove it tomorrow.

The body in his arms burrowed further against him, a warmth emitting from his skin soaking into his own cooler skin like a furnace. Nice could have sworn he wasn’t tired before now. That he could have gone and gone for days and felt nothing and yet now he laid here and felt his eyes starting to slip. Felt his breathes starting to ease. Felt his bones go lax and muscles fall weak.

He used the last of his strength to tug himself closer to the hero, letting himself be enveloped against the strong arms at his sides and slip into the unknown of rest.

Shit.

He’d fallen asleep.

Shit.

The bed next to him sat empty, cooling significantly in its lack of a body to warm it. The sheets were pulled back haphazardly as though they had been halfway free before getting distracted and falling out of it. The room silent except the intakes of breaths as their eyes took in every new aspect of information and token card of tidbits.

Nice’s hands clutched at the sheets, pulling in a breath too quick to have been that of a sleeping man and instantly recognizing he shouldn’t have done that. Like a fool he had. All for him. His hero. Lin Ling.

“What’ve you done,” he spoke, voice not quite shaking in anger like Nice expected but certainly shaking in something. Something he couldn’t name. Something he didn’t understand. He did not like not understanding. He

sat up, letting the blankets and sheets and sleep fall away from him. The window curtains had been drawn away, a crack of morning light filtering in through the space and lighting the person standing there perfectly in its light, leaving the board ominously glowing behind them.

“What those hero’s you rely on wouldn’t,” Nice answered as simply as he could.

“You have a plotted course of every attack ever constructed against me from different villains. You’ve got possible future attacks courses out with hero’s numbers and abilities for help scribbled next to them. It’s color coded!”

“Not every one. I couldn’t find much information from your first year as a hero.” The man’s hook his head, hands clamping up at his side then falling down again. He opened his mouth then shut it, leaving Nice to guess what he meant without hearing it. Lin Ling knew that. He spoke it anyways.

“Why would you do this?”

“It’s an easy enough endeavor to find the kinds of people who could find issue with you and your ideals then further prevent them from making your life more difficult. This one was particularly easy.”

“No, why do this,” he hissed, his hand waving vaguely to the room. Nice knew he meant to wave at the board, but he wondered if that wasn’t truly the whole intent of it. If he also wanted to include the room in his accusations. To include their lives, their choices.

“You know why,” Nice said quietly, his voice hushing their previous shouts. His hands clutched at the sheets below him, hidden by the blankets to everyone but himself.

“I don’t,” the other argued.

“You do,” he snapped back. Within the moment, he had slid free of the sheets, stepping around the bed and standing directly in front of the other man. He didn’t flinch back at Nice’s movements, just stood there watching. Waiting.

“You knew why when you woke up yesterday in my bed being fed my food asking me to stay with you in my house. You’ve known why when we dance and talk and fight with one another yet don’t actually truly fight. Don’t say you don’t know why I’ve done this. You know. You’re doing the same.” His hero shook his head. No, Lin Ling shook his head.

Nice felt his brows twitch together, trying to keep himself from feeling that sting in his eyes. He was failing, but he tried nonetheless. Lin Ling’s own breaths came in unsteady across from him, rocking back and forth on his heels like he always did when he wanted to run. Nice wouldn’t let him run. Not now. Not after this.

“You know something, hero,” Nice gasped out, trying to control his breaths and failing.

“I’ve never changed who I was even when I fell in love with you. Can you say the same?”

“I’m not changing who I am.”

“You’re losing who you are. I asked you to let me help yesterday and you agreed. Saying otherwise now won’t change that fact.”

“I don’t need help.”

“A shame. You've got it anyways.”

“Nice, I can’t–“ he sucked in a breath.

“It’s my problem.”

“I’ve made it ours.”

“I’m not going to let you do that.”

“Your words haven’t stopped me yet,” Nice reminded. Those eyes, big and beautiful in the morning light, looked at him with creases in their corners. He wanted to touch there, press the pads of his fingers to his skin and smooth out the pain he could see clear as day in the others skin.

“Please,” Nice begged, reaching out to take Lin Ling’s hands into his own.

“Please.” He shook his head though, pulling his hands away from Nice and stepping back.

“I can’t,” he told Nice and, wasn’t that the kicker. Wasn’t that the lie of the day. Wasn’t that just everything and nothing and so incredibly like him Nice couldn’t even help the smile that overtook his face, as bitter as it was.

“I can’t ask that of you.”

“You can,” Nice promised, “but you won’t.” He looked to Nice without seeing him, eyes unfocused before he shook his head and began to walk out away from him. Coward. Nice chased after him.

“That’s it?”

“What more can I say,” came the reply from the back trying to run from him.

“You’re the one who asked me to stay.”

“I didn’t tell you to bring me here.”

“No. You just collapsed into my arms.”

“Nice–”

“Lin Ling.” They’d passed through the door, pushing into the sunrise of his streets light. He squinted into it, wanting to raise his arms and feeling that would only be counterproductive. Lin Ling turned and grasped Nice’s shoulders beneath his hands, eyes wide and barring his teeth.

“I don’t want you involved! I can’t have you hurt!”

“I’ve been hurt many times, hero. None hurt more than now.”

“I trust you,” he claimed.

“This stubbornness will kill you,” Nice warned in response. The sun blinded him from this angle, a beam slicing right through his eyes like a gun.

“I don’t see a costume on you. Yet you’ve never looked more like a hero. Please, please, stop acting like one. I don’t want a commercial product right now. I want you. All of you. As you are. As you’ve always been. Please.” The hero shook his head. He was going to pull away. Nice already knew he was going to pull away. He couldn’t let this rest. Not in the way Nice wanted him to.

In a way it endeared him.

In a way it infuriated him.

The light blinded him, layering into his eyes his body his–

No. No it wasn’t aiming at Nice. It aimed elsewhere. At someone else. A moment ahead of when Nice thought they would.

Nice moved without a thought, using his hold on the other man to jerk him around, making certain whatever that light was, it only struck him. It struck hard too, an astounding pain radiating from the moment.

A moment. That’s all it was. A moment in time when his eyes met theirs. Met Lin Ling’s. Lin Ling.

A moment where it all fell together, where the seams shifted to invisible nothings and it all clicked together. His eyes, a beautiful brown that seeped in warmth and love. Hands, hot and tugging and alive, so much so.

A moment. Just a moment. His moment. Their moment.

Then, another moment, exploding hot and painful and hot.

Blood.

He didn’t need to feel it. He didn’t need to smell it nor see it.

Blood.

Nice knew what it meant to have been bleeding. He knew it.

Blood.

It gushed and poured and soaked everything in its path until it turned to a stain.

Blood.

A moment. Another moment. His body pitching forwards. His lips tugging up. His cheeks aching in its wake. His hands cold beneath him searching for his warmth.

A moment. Another moment. His fingers grasping at their face, warmth, finally warmth. Words falling from his own lips. Words he couldn’t hear himself speak. Words shouted at him he couldn’t hear.

“There you are,” Nice breathed. A moment. Just a moment. Then, nothing.

Lin Ling reached out, catching the body and the blood hurling towards him. All he had done was hold his arms up. Suddenly, there he was. Lying, limp and lacking. Dead? No. He wouldn’t die. Not from that. Right? He should check. It was his to check.

His hands wouldn’t move though. Nothing would move.

He’d caught him. He’d caught Nice. That’s all he could do.

His knees locked and then fell away, collapsing beneath him. Pavement hurt. It was a fact he had known for a long time. Pavement hurt. A lot. There was no cushioning, no sense of relief, nothing soft nor smooth. It just hurt. It stung against his knees, unprotected and already bruised.

The body in his arms was kept protected against Lin Ling’s chest, perfectly safe except for the blood seeping from his neck. Seeping down his shirt. Seeping into Lin Ling’s skin. Seeping into the earth and the dirt and everywhere it did not belong.

Something erupted inside his stomach, a fire brimming in his throat as suddenly, he could see. The world was alight around him and the light was blinding to his eyes. To their eyes. There. Off and to the side and there.

Lin Ling pressed his lips together, touching at the comm he always kept on him until a voice he knew well answered.

“Where are you,” Miss J demanded.

“43rd street. Civilian is injured. I–come now.”

“ETA one minute.”

“Make it thirty seconds.” A pause.

“Done.” He let his hand drop, checking over the pulse point on the body in his arms. Steady. Not dwindling, but unsafe to leave.

Lin Ling pulled his jacket off, ripping the sleeve and tying it carefully about Nice’s neck. Safe. For now.

He settled the body safely besides a door. Not the man’s own, of course, but a door that wouldn’t be opened anytime soon and one he stood out against. Then Lin Ling stood and left the scene as sirens blared in the distance, ever growing closer.

There. Right there. Never moving from there. Perfectly in view and so obvious Lin Ling felt like a fool for having missed it and there. He was there. Right fucking there.

A steady incline in the buildings gave a roadblock, a slight one Lin Ling barely considered before his fingers grasped into the building and launched him upwards. There. His hands grasped the edge of the roof, giving them no time to actually account to Lin Ling launching upwards and grasping their legs.

He yanked them off their feet. A man. Just some guy in a flimsy plastic mask. A mask he quickly grasped and broke beneath his hands.

Why did he not consider he would be on sight before now? Why had it not occurred to him that the buildings collapsing were all within distance of Lin Ling because this guy was in distance of Lin Ling. Nice was right. He was right.

Lin Ling’s hands clasped over their hair, dragging their skull behind him and slamming it into the floor.

“Why,” he screamed. Their blood had soaked his hands, hands grasping at his arms as they struggled to fight him. Lin Ling gave him no chance, shoving his hands down and keeping the guy there.

“Why,” he demanded again.

“They were good people. Innocent people!”

“They were hypocrites. All of you, hypocrites,” he wheezed out. Lin Ling shook his head, willing himself to stop hitting the guy. His will seemed unable to listen anymore. Not since yesterday. Maybe even before then. Halfway through a swing towards the guys head he spoke again.

“I was there! When that building collapsed on my girl! She died on her way to the hospital and you just stood there, flirting with some villain while preaching that hero’s are meant for the people! That people matter!” Lin Ling stopped dead in his tracks, breaths pausing in his throat. There? For which one?

No, it had to be that building a few weeks ago. The girls funeral was still fresh in Lin Ling’s mind. The sobs, the speeches. The lilies. The way they strained their scent over the entire hall.

“You killed those people,” Lin Ling uttered out in disbelief, mind swimming.

“To prove a point to me? To prove I was lacking?” There was a breeze up here, he realized as it strolled through. A polite breeze that reflected a lively morning. A lovely morning for absolute violence.

The sirens had arrived. They’d been there for a minute now. Maybe longer. Shouldn’t they move on? Shouldn’t they be going already? What if they did stop though. What then.

“They’re dead for nothing. He’s hurt…for nothing.”

“It’s not my fault he moved to save you.”

“You moved to hurt.” The guy moaned as he clawed and freed himself from Lin Ling’s hand. He stood in one swift movement, backing away as the roof around them started to shift. Change. Move in the tide. His tide.

Lin Ling watched it quietly, listening to the sirens as they began to fade away behind him. Suppose he should feel something about this. Suppose he should care about the structure angling towards him. Suppose he should move. Nice told him. He’d warned him. He’d tried to help him. Lin Ling had left him like a fool.

“I did not leave her for dead. Min Li was left to paramedics who did everything they could. Everything I can’t do. I trust my community.”

“You’re a fucking coward!”

“I know,” Lin Ling agreed, his stomach tightening as the sirens pressed further and further away from them again.

“I know.” He supposed he should care. Lin Ling couldn’t hear the sirens anymore. He didn’t know if that meant they had gone far enough for it, or if they’d been turned off.

The building angled at him, shifting to spikes he could already feel would pierce him soon. His body wouldn’t move anymore. He’d slept, but not enough. His exhaustion plagued him still and he could not move.

Lin Ling lifted his eyes and stared at it. Nice was right. Nice. Nice.

Laying alone in that ambulance. Quiet for the first time since Lin Ling had met him. Silenced by someone else’s doing. So unlike the quiet of the sleep that they’d had only a little while ago. Soft unspoken lines in Nice’s face. Unguarded and lovely. Gone. Without Lin Ling.

He shut his eyes. If he was quiet enough, if only he was still enough, he could be back in that moment. He could be back in that bed, warm and cozy and safe and sleeping so peacefully and happily he couldn’t stand the thought to get up.

A hand settled against his shoulder. A hand he did not know. A body pressed around his. Several. All surging in their direction. Hero’s. Some he knew personally, some he’d barely ever said more than a hi to.

Lin Ling opened his mouth, only meaning to ask why they were here or maybe even who they were when one smiled at him.

“Someone said we can help,” he told Lin Ling. Who, he wanted to ask. Why, he wanted to beg. The guy just shrugged.

“Some guy said there was a threat happening down here. Isn’t that why you’re here?” Oh, that fucker. That rat. That motherfucking asshole. He’d plotted the course of attacks. He’d plotted the goddamn course of attacks.

Lin Ling nodded against his will and yet found the fight wasn’t his anymore to run with. It wasn’t his to do anything about. They fought and smiled and jested and acted like hero’s. Like Lin Ling was meant to. He wasn’t needed. Not here anyways.

Quietly he looked away to where the sirens had faded. He wasn’t needed.

Not here.

He took a step. Then another. Then another. Suddenly he was running, bolting in the opposite direction of the fight towards the horizon.

Nice wouldn’t be in a hospital room. He knew that. Miss J would never allow that to happen. She, better than anyone, knew the show. She knew how it worked. She knew they couldn’t have him.

Rather Lin Ling found himself running to the only place he could think of that might have him.

Hero’s tower never seemed to stand so tall, his feet carrying him heavily up the way as fast as they could. He tripped more than once, hands clutching at stairs and launching himself back up everytime, crumbling chasing crashing then slamming through his door.

A few minutes. Only a few minutes. It seemed like hours. Like there was no way he would have been treated yet or that he might not have made it at all or that Lin Ling was simply wrong as to where he was and he slammed in through the door. It hit the wall behind him hard enough to bounce back and shut behind him.

Lin Ling fell to the ground behind the door, knees striking and palms slapping and he scrambled he really did but Lin Ling never quite managed to stand again before he got to the room. His room. His occupied room.

The man sitting up in his bed rubbing at his neck like he hadn’t just been shot. Lin Ling crashed into the room abruptly, so much so the man jerked his entire body to look then winced when even that still affected the way his neck sat. His eyes widened. Lin Ling’s did too, watering and stinging soon as they looked at each other. Awake. Breathing. Alive.

“Wow,” Nice spoke, his voice raspy and pitchy and lovely.

“That’s quite a lot of blood there.” Lin Ling’s shoes slipped against the floor as he hurled himself into the man’s lap, tugging his arms around Nice’s waist and pressing his face to the man’s stomach.

The body beneath him tensed with a quiet squeak before lolling down atop him, their hands curled over Lin Ling and face pressed to his back.

“Shit, okay. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“You fucking asshole,” Lin Ling yelled into the man’s stomach, voice heavily muffled in his skin and clothe. The body above him giggled, a move which made Lin Ling go to raise his head. He was pushed back down before he could though with surprising strength from the man who had been shot through the neck only a few hours ago.

“No no, I didn’t mean to. It tickled. I’m sorry. I…” he breathed out, limp atop Lin Ling.

“I’m sorry,” Nice said.

“No, I’m sorry,” Lin Ling called in return, not giving Nice another second before having spoken to which the man scoffed.

“I’m more sorry,” Nice argued. Lin Ling blew air into the man’s stomach, an action that eared a laugh and a strike at the back of his head.

“It hurts to laugh.” He laughed nonetheless though. Above him Nice leaned back up, his hands dragging a trail along Lin Ling’s back until he too pulled back to look up at the man.

Bandages covered a vast area of his skin, peeling already in the corners from Nice trying to pick at them. If it weren’t for them Lin Ling might’ve been able to pretend the incident never happened. He might’ve been able to push it aside and go in again as they had.

Nice was here though. He was here bandaged and laying in Lin Ling’s bed like there was never anywhere else he might’ve ended up. Carefully, Lin Ling lifted his hands and touched the pad of gauze beneath his fingers. Rough, scratchy. His teeth clenched.

“Don’t look so sour. It’s only for a few days.”

“You were shot,” Lin Ling told him. Nice smiled.

“It was a grazing. Barely any skin gone and my costume will hide it.”

“That’s not important.”

“What is?”

“Nice. You were shot saving me.” Nice blinked, his smile twitching in the corners like he wanted to frown but didn’t want to commit to the actual action.

“And?”

“Why,” Lin Ling asked. For the first time in a long time an emotion flashed across Nice’s face Lin Ling knew well. Confusion. Hurt. Anger.

“I told you,” Nice claimed. Suddenly he was leaning back from Lin Ling, obviously contemplating flicking him though his hands never strayed from their gentle caress at Lin Ling’s back.

“Shit,” he spoke softly before Lin Ling could get a word in.

“You know why. Lin Ling, you…you know why. Stop pretending you don’t. You know,” Nice begged. He did. Truthfully and honestly, he did. How could he not, he felt the same after all.

Nice’s fingers touched at the sides of Lin Ling’s face, a quiet ask, a gentle plea, an honest beg. Lin Ling couldn’t let him down, not after that.

He rose up, cupping the others skull in his hand and making certain he didn’t hurt Nice’s neck in anyway when he kissed him. The gentle noise of his air conditioner starting sounded in the background, followed by the sound of his sheets shifting beneath their body’s to become more comfortable.

A chilly air spread through the room as the heat shared between them kept both comfortable. Lin Ling wondered if Nice could understand what he wanted with this. He wanted more. To live. To love. To be with one another without any mask nor costume in sight.

He wanted Nice and his stupid banter and arrogant chatter and dumb perfection. He wanted their lives to be more than before, to be together and mean it.

Nice settled his hands so safely against Lin Ling’s cheeks, brushing his bangs from Lin Ling’s eyes and he knew, he knew, with every bone in his body Nice wanted the same. That he thought the same for Lin Ling. That he was here and Lin Ling was here and they would be in this mess here, together.

They slotted together even when their lips parted, Lin Ling’s head on Nice’s shoulder and Nice curling atop his head. Later they could deal with the outcome, the downfall and clean up and everything that came with it. Later. For now, later was something they didn’t care for. For now they were here.