Work Text:
Up The Stairs
The sky over Domino City pressed down like a duel’s final, oppressive card—a canvas of gray, heavy, and unrelenting. Neon signs flickered dimly against the pale light, their colours muted as if even the city’s vibrancy were exhausted by the weight of the clouds. Zane Truesdale’s footsteps echoed against the concrete stairwell, deliberate yet laborious, each one a careful play in a game he had never wanted to lose.
Three flights of stairs behind him, he paused, winded. His muscles protested at every fiber, each movement a card drawn against him in a losing duel. Grip white on the railing, he drew a shaky breath. Just a ten-minute walk, he had promised himself. Instead, it had become a battle against his own body.
“Zane?”
Her voice cut through the gray like sunlight through storm clouds—calm, precise, threaded with concern. Alexis Rhodes. Her presence felt like a perfectly timed counter-trap, catching him completely off guard.
He blinked. “Alexis… what—” His voice cracked, rougher than intended.
“Atticus said you had something important to tell me,” she said, moving upward with poise. “But from the look on your face, I doubt it’s anything like that.”
Zane’s jaw tightened. “Doctor’s orders… Ten minutes. I—overdid it.” He stated defensively, but his body refused to cooperate.
“Overdid it?” Alexis arched a brow, stepping closer, eyes sharp but soft. “You can barely make it up one flight without pausing. Why didn’t you call me?”
“I don’t need someone hovering.”
“This isn’t about pride, Zane. You’re pushing yourself too hard.”
“It’s my problem, not yours.”
“Don’t you dare say that! I wasn’t going to leave you here. I had a feeling… Atticus was right.”
“He always exaggerates. I’m fine, Alexis”
“Fine? You can’t even make it halfway up a flight without stopping.”
“I—what do you want me to say? That I’m weak? That I can’t handle it?”
“I want you to admit that you don’t have to handle it on your own.”
Her words hit harder than any finishing move in a duel. Zane looked away, eyes tracing the dull gray sky beyond the stairwell window. “…If people see me like this, it’s over. The Zane Truesdale they knew… gone. What’s left isn’t worth anyone’s time.”
Her voice softened. “Don’t decide what you’re worth. You matter—to Atticus,Syrus, and to me”
Zane’s fingers whitened on the railing. “Caring doesn’t change what’s happening to me.”
“No,” she agreed. “But being alone makes it worse. You can fight me on this, but I’m not leaving. Not when you need someone.”
“…You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he muttered.
“Funny,” she replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips, “that’s exactly what people say about you.”
Zane tried to step past her, but his foot faltered.
Alexis caught him immediately, steadying him with a gentle, firm hand.”Stubborn as always, I see” she murmured.
“I don’t need—”
“Yes, you do!And you’re letting me, whether you like it or not.”
Reluctantly, he leaned against her, sliding his arm over her shoulder. Each step forward was calculated, a battle against gravity and fatigue, each pause a strategic reassessment.
“There.See? Not so hard.”
“It’s humiliating,” he muttered, cheeks warming.
“Humiliating would be leaving you here to collapse,” she said, her shoulder pressing gently against his. “This is just… helping.”
Step by step, landing by landing, they climbed. Alexis’ support was quiet but unwavering, a steady counter to Zane’s resistance.
“You don’t have to prove anything right now,” she said softly.
“I already proved everything I could,” he muttered. “And look where it got me.”
At the next landing, she paused to steady him. “Where it got you is alive. That’s more important than any duel, any reputation.”
He didn’t argue. He let himself rest against her shoulder before pushing onward.
The final flight loomed. With Alexis supporting him, they reached his apartment door. Zane fumbled with the keys, trembling hands finally unlocking the lock.
Before he could step inside, she caught his arm. “Don’t push me away. Not after choosing to stay.”
Their eyes met. The gray world outside—storm clouds, silent streets, fatigue—faded. Only her remained: steady, unyielding, warm.
Inside, the apartment was quiet and cool. Zane sank onto the couch. Alexis draped a blanket over him, her hand brushing his wrist to steady the faint tremor.
“You don’t have to thank me,” she said softly. “Just… let me be here.”
For the first time all day, Zane allowed himself a faint, genuine smile.
“See?” she teased, nudging him lightly. “Not so bad having company.”
He shook his head, smirking despite exhaustion. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” she grinned, “you let me stay.”
“You’re like a trap card that refuses to leave the field,” Zane muttered dryly.
“And you’re the duel I can’t stop trying to win,” she replied lightly, eyes sparkling.
He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make it sound like a victory.”
“Oh, it’s definitely a victory,” she said, elbowing him lightly. “You might be strong, Zane, but I’m persistent.”
“Persistent… or relentless?” he muttered.
“Both,” she said, grinning. “And I think you secretly like it.”
“I—That’s ridiculous!”
“Sure, whatever you say, Zane..”
Outside, the storm pressed on, gray and relentless. Inside, the quiet was theirs—soft, warm, and entirely enough, as if each moment with her was a winning hand finally drawn at the end of a long, gruelling duel.