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Coupé wasn’t really used to falling.
She usually had wings, for Christ’s sake. But here she was, her stomach in her throat, her vision fading around the edges, unable to move a muscle as the wind whistled past her ears. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe this was her fate from the beginning. She closed her eyes, ready to accept death.
It didn’t come. She heard a crash, but it wasn’t her spine breaking. Strong arms had caught her, one under her legs, the other under the small of her back.
“Shit. Okay. That was close.”
A female voice, vaguely familiar. Coupé’s vision was blurry, her mind foggy, but she could make out deep red, gold, and the comfort of darkness surrounding her. The figure, she’d come to realize, had landed on the ground, walking slowly and muttering, almost under her breath.
“I’m so sorry, Coop. I never wanted it to turn out like this.” The figure was laying her down now on what she could only assume was cold concrete. “I promise, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Rest now.”
Coupé attempted to respond, but her tongue felt too big in her mouth. She heard a whoosh and knew that she was alone now.
The darkness enveloped her so fast, she hadn’t had time to think.
***
When she came to, Coupé was in the middle of getting handcuffed.
Upon realizing she was conscious, the police officer that finished locking her cuffs hauled her to her feet, either ignoring or completely missing the hiss of pain that escaped from clenched teeth. The only source of reprieve was that as he ordered her to walk forward, they kept a slow pace.
The sun was beginning to rise, bathing the parking lot in a golden hue. What used to be SDN was an absolute mess, with various superheroes zipping by to attempt repairs. A few feet away was a prison transport truck, and they were headed right for it. A feeling of dread settled onto her shoulders like an old friend. After everything, after she tried so hard to do things right this time around, she couldn’t even be a hero.
“Whoa, hold on!” A familiar voice turned her veins to ice. Slowly, she turned her head, locking eyes with Punch Up. She expected to see hurt in his expression, maybe even anger, but his face was stone. His eyes softened for a moment as he met her gaze, quickly returning to normal as he looked back up at the officer. “You got the wrong gal. She’s with us!” She didn’t know what Malevola and Flambae said, but she knew they were backing Punch Up, too.
For a few long, tense minutes, Coupé knew this was the end. She would be behind bars the rest of her life, despite her dear friend’s efforts - and perhaps she deserved this.
Suddenly, Robert’s voice called out, ending the silence. “Hey! Yeah, nope, she’s with us.”
The officer blinked in surprise, but seemingly decided against questioning it. He unlocked the cuffs, muttered a half-hearted apology, and walked back over to his colleagues. Newly freed, Coupé blinked dumbly as she turned to her old team, where Malevola wordlessly offered her a smile and a beer. She wanted so badly to scream, to ask them why the fuck they were taking her back after everything she did, but she couldn’t find it in her right now.
Without another word, she sheepishly took a bottle from her, glancing back at Robert. He was watching her with a small smile. It was all she could do to muster one in return.
Coupé found herself surrounded by the people she had once called friends. Up until very recently, she had decided she hadn’t needed them. She had told herself this with such conviction she had believed it, but now everything she had believed in the past few weeks was disappearing like sand between her fingers. Watching Golem toss Punch Up around like a circus act, hearing Prism and Flambae talk shit about dumb superhero costumes, and seeing Malevola consistently win an arm wrestling match against Sonar made her feel light-headed.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, clutching her half-drunk bottle tighter.
“Y’alright, love?” Punch Up’s voice broke through what felt like cotton in her ears. His voice was gentle, his face genuine. “Ye look right pale.”
As she glanced down, a glint of red made her flinch. A mere moment later, she realized it was just a beam of sunlight bouncing off of his bottle. Her mouth dried out as she gripped the neck of her bottle even tighter. “I am…I am fine.”
“I know what yer like when yer fine,” he continued, grinning a little. “This ain’t fine, Coop.”
She’d nearly forgotten how frustratingly persistent he could be. “I said I’m fine, so I’m fine.”
“C’mon, girl.” Prism suddenly appeared, sidling up next to her with a dramatic sigh. “You look like you were fucked by a truck, left on the road for an hour, and then fucked by a truck again.”
Golem blinked. “Can trucks fuck?”
“Oh, yeah. All the time. Nasty as hell,” Malevola answered, a coy grin on her face as she pat Golem’s arm. “Think Sonar tried to join in once.”
“It was a rough week,” he replied solemnly, “but, honestly, no regrets.”
Flambae stared at him. “Every day I learn things about you against my will.”
It all seemed so normal, it made Coupé’s head hurt. She looked between them all, her chest feeling like it was going to burst. “Why…why are you being so nice to me?”
The rest of them paused, exchanging a few looks. Golem spoke first, genuinely confused. “Whatcha mean?”
“You -” Coupé breathed a humorless laugh, feeling as though she was the only one here who hadn’t completely lost their mind. “I aided the Red Ring in almost completely destroying the city. We kidnapped Robert. We made your lives a living hell. You should hate me.” She moved her arms a little faster than she meant to, shattering her bottle against the wall behind her. Glass fell onto the pavement, lukewarm alcohol traveling down her arm. Her head was spinning, her chest heaving. “I…I don’t -” She swayed, placing a hand on the wall to steady herself. “I don’t…”
Her vision went dark. She couldn’t do anything but fall. Just like before, two strong arms caught her.
She wished she could fly again.
***
“Coop, I know yer in there. Open up.”
The morning after she was fired, Coupé was sorely hungover. She was laying on the floor of her living room with a blanket over her head when the knock came, followed by the persistent voice. She almost thought about continuing to ignore him, but she knew it would be way worse if she did. He’d probably break down her door.
“Shouldn’t you be at work, Punch Up?” she mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut. “Why are you here?”
She could practically hear the smile in his voice as he replied. “Yeah, I’m s’pposed to be at work. Who gives a shit. Yer more important.”
That made her pause. Despite their history, despite the promise that they’d stay friends, her heart still skipped a beat. Letting out a quiet groan, she gathered all of her willpower and pulled the blanket off of her, dragging herself to her feet. She unlocked the door, her shoulders sagging. Punch Up eyed her.
“Well. Ye look like shite.” With that as a greeting, he invited himself inside, and she let him. After a moment, he turned around to face her. “I’m gonna quit the Z-Team.”
Her heart dropped. “What?”
“If they can cut ye like nothin’, they’re not a team I wanna be a part of.” His voice was so matter-of-fact it almost made her dizzy. “I…don’t wanna be on a team without ye.”
As much as she was touched, Coupé shook her head slightly and stepped forward, placing a gentle hand beneath his chin, turning his face up to hers. “You’ve always been so sweet,” she murmured, feeling him practically melt in her touch, “but you can’t quit.”
His brow furrowed. “Why not? We don’t need ‘em.”
“We can’t…go back to how things were.” She let go of him, turning to face the wall in an attempt to compose herself. “You’re a hero now, Punch Up. Think of how terrible things were before you knew you were getting a paycheck. I won’t let you live like that again.”
He seemed like he wanted to argue, but closed his mouth. His shoulders sagged, slowly lifting a hand to rest on her arm. She lowered herself to her knees, leaning her head against his shoulder. He held her for a long while, and when he left to go back to work, she could still smell the familiar scent of whiskey and cigars.
It was still stuck in her nose when Shroud came to her apartment an hour later, offering her a proposition.
***
Coupé’s head was throbbing.
It was almost a comfort, honestly; she was so used to feeling this way that it almost didn’t freak her out when she opened her eyes to sterile white and a steady beeping monitor.
Her gaze drifted downward to the weight near her legs, surprised to find Punch Up with his head in his arms on the edge of the bed, sleeping soundly. Red prodded the edge of her vision and she glanced up from him in a panic, expecting Shroud. Instead, she found Malevola sitting in a chair a few feet back. Her arms were crossed, staring at the wall as she chewed a piece of gum. Her bubble popped as she realized Coupé was awake.
“Oh, shit, look who’s back.” She scooted her chair forward a bit, casting a sideways glance toward Punch Up for a moment before returning her gaze to Coupé. “How ya doin’?”
She swallowed thickly, silently taking inventory of herself. For the first time in weeks, she felt well-rested, but more than anything else, there was shame, rearing its ugly head. “I…” she bit her tongue to resist the urge to say ‘fine’ again. “I am…better.”
“I’ll take your word for it this time,” she sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Gave Punch quite the scare, y’know. Hasn’t left your side once.”
“How long was out?”
“About eighteen hours, give or take. We were takin’ turns, y’know, visiting you, but Punch refused to leave. When I came in for my turn, he was like this.” Their eyes drifted to the man, blissfully unaware of the conversation. Malevola hesitated, then added, “We aren’t…mad at you, Coop. We know what it’s like to be desperate. We’re the last people who are gonna hold that against you. It was bullshit that you got cut in the first place.”
Coupé closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Deep down, she knew that was true. She hadn’t been super close with any of these people before she was cut, but she knew they didn’t get put on the Z-Team through good means. They probably struggled just as much as she had. They probably struggled just as much as Punch Up had.
When she opened her eyes again, she saw Malevola was still looking at her. “Thank you. For saying that.”
Malevola smiled, leaning back in her chair. “What matters is, you’re back with us again. By the way, doctors said there’s nothing wrong with you. Just really needed the sleep, I guess, and you’ll be sore for a while. Guess Blazer and Robert really fucked you up.”
That made sense. Coupé couldn’t really remember the last time she’d lay down. She couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t felt tired.
Slowly, her gaze drifted back to Punch Up, and Malevola did the same. She hesitated, and when she spoke her voice was uncharacteristically quiet. “What’s goin’ on between the two of you? I mean, really?”
That was a heavy question. Coupé wasn’t even sure where to start. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again, choosing the short version of the story. “We were together for some time. I broke things off, but even so, he wanted to remain my friend.”
Malevola almost seemed disappointed that that was all she had to say. “Why did you break up?”
Coupé closed her eyes again, thinking back on that night that everything had changed; at the way she’d barely been able to see through her tears, thinking he’d hate her, thinking he’d try and kill her and she wouldn’t have even tried to stop him. She was expecting anger. She was ready for that. She hadn’t been ready for the hurt on his face, quickly followed up by sympathy. She hadn’t been ready for him to console her, despite the fact that she’d just broken him with a few words.
“I was scared,” she answered finally, dropping her head back against the pillow to look up at the ceiling. “I still am.”
The only sounds in the room for a moment were the quiet, steady beep of her monitor and the soft, even breaths coming from the man at her side. She nearly jumped when she felt Malevola’s hand rest on her shoulder.
“It’s okay to be,” she said softly, squeezing gently, “but you can’t let it hold you back from what you want.”
Coupé met her eyes, trying to ignore the burn in her own. Her mind raced, wondering what she could possibly mean by that, when suddenly the sheets beside her began to rustle. Malevola pulled back as Punch Up sat up, rubbing his eyes roughly. When he looked at Coupé, his face lit up. “Yer awake! Gave us quite a fright back there.”
Looking between them, Malevola gave her a smile, as if she knew something Coupé didn’t, and playfully slapped Punch Up on the back. “Sure did, dude. Well, I’m outta here. Don’t forget to catch dinner before all the good places close.” She saluted, created a portal, and disappeared.
“Dunno why she doesn’t just use the door…” Punch Up mumbled, which made Coupé chuckle a little. He lit up all over again. “I’ve missed makin’ ye laugh, love.”
“I’ve missed your jokes, too.” She’d never had the heart to tell him to stop calling her that. It was just too sweet. She hadn’t wanted to kick him when he was down, and now it had been too long. She sighed softly, pulling herself to sit up a bit more. “Malevola said you stayed with me here all night.”
Punch Up blinked, like he was surprised by the tone of her voice. “‘Course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”
Attempting to bite back a smile, she tilted her head. “I guess I hadn’t thought of that.”
***
On Monday, they didn’t have to go to work. Coupé sat at home, for the first time in weeks unsure of her next steps. For the first time in a while, she was wearing simple clothes, her mask and knives left in a heap on her coffee table. Malevola’s words had really stuck with her, and she found herself thinking about Punch Up again. As she peered into her bedroom, the memory seemed to play out like a movie.
“I can’t do this.”
Sunlight streamed through the window, bathing the room in a warm hue. She was standing beside her bed, half-clothed, watching Punch Up on the opposite side as he pulled his pants back up over his waist. He turned to glance at her over his shoulder, his bare back showcasing scars that had easily healed as he fluffed out his shirt. “What cantcha do, love?”
“This,” she answered, gesturing vaguely. “Us. I’m glad we didn’t kill each other a few months ago, and this has been…” She trailed off, exhaling slowly. “This has been amazing, Punch Up. But I can’t do this.”
He turned to face her fully now, nothing on his expression but worry. “What makes ye think that?”
“It’s -” The word escaped her in a hiss, and she sat on the edge of her bed, shaking her head. Her heart was pounding out of her chest as she clenched her fists. “I never knew my parents as ‘happy.’ My memories from childhood are just of yelling and glass breaking and blood. When the mob came for me after they died, I felt nothing.” She breathed in, letting it out. “I am not capable of love. I have never felt it before, and I never will.”
Slowly, Punch Up walked around the bed, sitting down beside her. His face was so sympathetic it nearly made her sick. “Come on now, Coop, ye don’t really believe that load of bullshite, do ye?”
“Love is reserved for normal people.” She stood up quickly, whirling around to face him. “We are not -” She faltered, noticing the way his face fell slightly. Her voice cracked. “I am not normal.” Her eyes burned. “This can’t work. It never will.”
“Janelle -”
She moved before her brain could catch up, pushing him back against the mattress, one of her knives up against his throat, the other pushing on his chest. He stared up at her calmly as her breath came ragged and raw, as if she’d just run a marathon. “Don’t,” she said, her voice breaking. She knew the knife wouldn’t do anything to him, but she needed this control, and he let her have it. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
Her eyes blurred with tears, but she could still see the general outline of his face, his chiseled jaw lifting with a slight smile. “Jaysus, yer enchantin’. I love ye no matter what ye choose to do.” He glanced down at the knife, then back up at her. “Can we be friends, then?”
Perhaps only now realizing what she was doing, she moved, backing up from the bed until her back hit the wall. “Friends,” she breathed as she watched him sit up. Her tears began to flow freely now as she slowly sunk to the floor. “I’ve never had any friends before.”
Punch Up hopped to his feet, sitting down beside her. “I’m right happy to be yer first, then.”
Coupé, shaking herself out of her reverie, wiped her face and leaned back against her couch. She wasn’t sure what she had done to earn Punch Up’s friendship, and even now, after she’d been sure she’d messed it up completely, he was still by her side. It was so mind-boggling she felt like she could faint. On top of all that, Malevola thinking she knew her, knew them, but she didn’t know how unworthy Coupé really was -
A knock broke her out of her thoughts. She jumped to her feet, her chest heaving. She was about to pull a knife from the table when a familiar voice muttered, “Betcha ten bucks she won’t open up.”
“Deal.”
She almost wanted to let her have that. Instead, in almost a trance, she moved toward the door, opening it slowly to find Golem and Invisigal standing on the other side. Visi smirked, clearly nonplussed about being wrong, and pulled out her wallet, handing a bill over to Golem. He grinned wider than she’d ever seen as Visi looked Coupé up and down. “You still look like shit. Can we come in? ‘Cause we’re comin’ in.”
Still somewhat dazed, she moved as Visi stepped inside, with Golem inching in through the door sideways. “Brought ya a ‘welcome back to the right side’ present.” Once he was safely through the door, Coupé turned around to find Golem holding out a fancy bottle of whiskey, smiling. “Guess it’s also a, um…”
“‘Glad you’re not dead’ present, or whatever,” Visi finished for him.
“Thank you...” Coupé looked between them for a moment, eyeing the other woman’s wound. “Are you alright?”
Visi blinked, glancing at her shoulder. “Me? You should see the other guy.” She smiled, this time a little more genuine, and sat back on Coupé’s couch. Golem made himself at home on the floor while Coupé looked down at the bottle in her hands.
“What are you…doing here?” she asked, gingerly sitting on the edge of her couch, as if she were the guest in her own home.
Golem glanced at Visi. “Didn’t I say already?”
“The bottle, yeah,” she agreed, “but also ‘cause Punch was busy and he was practically ready to suck us off to help you out. Told us your address and everything. I promise we didn’t stalk you.”
Coupé’s chest tightened. She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “He always did want me to get along with the team.” Now, she was realizing, because he knew they could be the friends that she had wanted all along. “Malevola said I don’t have to say it, but…I am still sorry about the way things happened.”
Golem simply shook his head. “You don’t gotta do all that. We’re just glad you’re back.”
“It, um…” Visi sighed, leaning forward on her knees. “It could have happened to me. It should have happened to me. And honestly, I think I would’ve done the exact same thing you did.” She looked up at Coupé, the most genuine look on her face she’d ever seen. “People like us gotta do what we gotta do to survive. You survived.”
Coupé was oddly touched. She smiled a little. “...Thank you. For what it’s worth, I am glad you are alright,” she said softly, “and thank you, for the gift. But you do not have to stay here. I’m sure you have other things you’d like to be doing.”
“Nah, I’m chill here. Also, ‘cause Visi said that you’d probably share the bottle with us,” Golem replied almost right away. Coupé smiled a little, getting up to walk toward the kitchen. She glanced into her bedroom for a moment, imagining Punch Up still standing there, telling her he’d be her first friend.
The first of many, perhaps.
A moment later, she returned to her living room with three glasses, which they all clinked together. “To not dying!” Visi declared, knocking it back.
“Hear, hear,” Coupé agreed, watching Golem swallow the glass whole. She had to bite down a laugh.
***
On Tuesday, Coupé returned to work.
The SDN building was still in rough shape. The walls were mostly fixed, the vomit cleaned up, and decent enough to work out of, it seemed, even if there were still remnants of blood and useless Red Ring augments scattered around. Coupé was one of the first to arrive, and she stood quietly in the corner of the kitchen, thinking about how surreal it all felt. Over her mug of coffee, she was enjoying some of the silence when the sound of quiet conversation reached her ears.
“- take some time, but honestly, I’m just glad to be getting back to regular shit, you know?”
She recognized Robert’s voice right away, and it was confirmed to her when he and Blazer walked into the kitchen as well - though she was just ‘Mandy’ now, and working as a dispatcher herself. They stopped in their tracks, staring at her. “Coop!” The latter exclaimed, immediately putting on a smile. “You’re here so early.”
“Yes. I came for the coffee,” she answered nonchalantly, unable to look either of them in the eye. Her gaze was focused directly on the dirty floor tiles beneath her. “It was very…gracious of you to allow me to join the team again. Thank you.”
Suddenly, a pair of shoes stepped forward, standing in front of her. She looked up, finding Robert with a small smile on his face. “I’d like nothing more than to start over. That work for you?” As she nodded numbly, he reached out his hand. “I’m Robert. What’s your name?”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she grasped his hand with her free one. “Coupé,” she murmured. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Robert, seemingly rather pleased, shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, too. Welcome to the Z-Team.”
Coupé lifted her gaze, seeing Mandy eye him with such fondness it nearly made her sick. Was this the love that normal humans could feel? She still didn’t really believe it was possible. The words suddenly poured out of her like an avalanche.
“I’m…I’m so sorry, about the kidnapping, about the city, about everything -”
“Ah, ah,” Mandy cut her off, smiling gently. “It’s a do-over, remember?”
Setting her jaw, Coupé wondered if she’d ever be able to make it through another day without feeling her eyes burn and her throat close. She drew in a sharp breath. “Yes. Right.”
“For what it’s worth,” Robert murmured, gently placing a hand on her shoulder, “you got a mean roundhouse. I mean, really, top-notch. You gotta use that more often. I was sore for days.”
It caught her so off-guard she let out a snort, which she quickly attempted to muffle. Obviously proud of himself, Robert sent a wink her way and walked over to the coffeemaker. Coupé looked up at Mandy, who was still watching him. “Miss Blazer,” she said, a little more confident than before. “Thank you. For saving me. I don’t remember much after the fight, but I remember the light. And your, um, apology.”
The comment seemed to catch Mandy off guard. She blinked, then her face softened, a genuine look in her eyes. “I meant everything. I really am sorry.”
Coupé paused, trying and failing to hold back her own smile. “None of that. It’s a do-over.”
Now it was Mandy’s turn to snort. She quickly covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking a little, her eyes alight. “Touché.”
“Take it easy for a while, Coop,” Robert said over his shoulder, “Everyone else won’t be here for a while. Hey, you can go meet my dog.”
“Dog?”
“His name’s Beef,” Mandy continued for him, “he’s a very good boy. Provides good therapy.”
Coupé hesitated for a moment, but the prospect of getting to pet a cute dog was too good to pass up. “Yeah, alright.” She quickly drank the rest of her coffee, placed the mug in the sink and stepped out of the kitchen. Wandering through each of the cubicles, she was beginning to wonder exactly how many people worked here when the sound of a crash followed by familiar laughter drove her in the right direction.
“Aw, he likes you!”
As Coupé rounded the corner, she was greeted by the sight of Flambae on his back, a small, fat dog on his chest, vigorously licking his face. Prism stood above him, recording the whole thing on her phone while the janitor stood off to the side, wringing his hands. Prism looked up as Coupé approached, her smile widening. “Coop! Oh, bitch, thank God someone else is getting to witness this.”
Brows furrowing, Coupé stopped at her side, glancing at Waterboy, who yelped and folded in on himself. When she turned her attention to Flambae, she noticed that, despite the dog’s small body, Flambae didn’t make any move to free himself. “What’s happening?”
“Waterboy had a little accident -”
“I-I-It was not an accident! W-Well, it are…I mean, it is - was, an accident, b-but not that kind of - that you’re implicate - implying!”
Ignoring him, Prism stopped recording and swiped to the left, showing Coupé the video. “These two bitches bumped into each other, Flambae slipped, Beef went straight for the water all over him. Y’know, a normal ass Tuesday.”
“For your information, I am stuck here because clearly Robert is not taking care of Beef well enough,” Flambae huffed, his voice somewhat muffled due to the dog face directly against his mouth. “Also, he is drying me off. I guess.”
“Bitch, you can just say you like the damn dog. No one’s gonna think you’re any less cool than they already do.” Prism rolled her eyes, sticking her phone back into her pocket. “Oh, hey, Coop, have you met Waterboy?” She reached over, pulling him closer to sling an arm around his wet shoulders. “Newest member of the Z-Team right here, baby!”
Before Coupé could say anything, Waterboy’s face lit up. “O-Oh, I know who you is - are! You’re s-s-super scary - cool! Cool-io…”
She’d been wondering why Prism had been sort of nice to him so far, but there was something oddly endearing about the kid. “Hello.” With a huff, Beef suddenly shook himself off and hopped off of Flambae, waddling right up to Coupé. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he tilted his head curiously, clearly interested in the new person. She bent down, scooping him up to scratch behind his ears. “And hello to you.”
Flambae hopped back up to his feet, checking himself out. “Ah, there we go. Dry. I dunno how you deal with this all the time, Wetfartboy.”
“M-My name isn’t - it’s…”
“Couldn’t you just, like, heat the water off of you?” Prism rolled her eyes, popping one of her hips to the side. “I’ve seen you steam shit before.” Flambae faltered for a moment, then snarled at her.
“Shut the fuck up.”
Coupé chuckled, glancing down at Beef. “I see why you came to me.” She looked between the three of them, who were now watching her. “...What?”
“Didn’t know you were capable of laughing,” Flambae muttered, a smirk pulling at his lips.
What a strange comment. Then again, she thought, they hadn’t really gotten to see her with Punch Up for very long. Besides his stupid jokes, she didn’t laugh often. Was this truly the only time they’d ever heard it, and that’s why they were looking at her like she had two heads?
“Only when things are really funny,” she deadpanned, which made Prism grin widely.
“So what you’re sayin’ is, I gotta fuck with Flambae more.”
“No one’s fucking with anybody, bitch -”
Ducking out from Prism’s arm, Waterboy began scooching backward, and Coupé couldn’t tell if he liked them or was absolutely terrified of them. Maybe it was both. “H-How is that change - different, from u-u-usual?”
Coupé tried muffling her laugh this time by using Beef’s large body, but they heard it anyway. Placing a hand on her shoulder, Prism smirked. “Glad to have you back, spooky bitch.”
Strangely enough, Coupé believed she really felt that way.
***
“Ah, shit. This plane’s going down. Coop, Sonar, think you can catch it?” Mandy’s voice came calmly over the comms, but Coupé could tell that her first day as a dispatcher was stressing her out a bit. With Robert back in the suit, she was now in charge of the Z-Team.
“You, uh, sure you don’t wanna send Robert? You know, the superpowered robot?” Sonar’s voice replied uneasily.
If Coupé didn’t know any better, she’d say Mandy was doing this on purpose, due to the awkward air between the two of them. “Nope!”
Punch Up’s voice crackled in her ear. “C’mon, Batboy, grow a pair.” She smiled a little to herself, but quickly wiped it off her face as she stepped outside of SDN. Sonar was already standing there, somewhat fidgety.
“On it.” She cast a look at him, then took off into the sky. He had no choice but to follow.
The flight was awkward and silent. It seemed like Sonar was always on the verge of saying something, and he continually decided against it. Eventually, Coupé sighed, knowing she would have to make the first move.
“Look, if there’s something you want to say, just say it. It’ll be better for us both.”
It caught him off guard, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t get at least a little satisfaction out of that. It seemed to be enough, though, because he sighed, too. “I’m…God, Coop, I’m sorry. I don’t know why you were cut and I wasn’t.”
“Water under the bridge,” she replied, though it still hurt. It wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong. It was just shitty circumstances.
The quickly descending plane, engulfed in flames, appeared out of the clouds, and they both rushed to either side of it, each grabbing one wing. “It’s still not fair!” Sonar called over the wind, flapping his wings quickly. “It could have so easily been me. And I didn’t even feel guilty about it until, like, way later! You were worried about us hating you, but you should hate me.”
Straining, she pushed as hard as she could, trying to slow the plane by moving up. Strangely, she preferred him being a pervert to…whatever this was. “Do you…think I would have done any different?” she managed. “If it had been me, if we had switched…” The plane was heavy. She released a loud yell and pushed harder, but it was no use. “We have to push together. On three?”
Sonar, nearly out of breath, managed a nod. “Okay.”
“One, two, three!” With both of them pushing, they managed to angle the plane parallel to the ground hundreds of feet below. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”
“For what?”
“For handcuffing you to the weightlifting bar,” she replied, not bothering to hide her smirk. “But, also, um…the whole, ‘working with Shroud to destroy the city’ thing.”
Coupé could never really tell with him, but she was pretty sure he was smiling. “Dude, are you kidding? I would have done the exact same thing. Pure unbridled rage does make a guy - eh, or, girl - wanna destroy a city.” He looked down at the field as they began to approach. “It was unfair, though. You really did use a hot voice.”
“Whatever you say.” She surveyed the plane, noticing that the wing she was holding was still on fire. “Sonar, I need to let go of the plane.”
“What? I can’t hold it on my own!”
“Just for a minute,” she huffed, bracing herself. “I have to put out this fire before we land it, or that field will catch.”
For a moment, he was silent, and she could practically hear the gears turning in his head. “Shit, fuck, okay. And I thought I was batshit.”
Coupé pushed off of the wing, flipping backward. The plane immediately dipped downward, and she lowered herself to accommodate. Flapping her wings as hard as she could, the wind she created swirled directly toward the flames.
“I can’t hold it much longer!” Sonar groaned, and though his monster form was big, it wasn’t ‘carry a plane by himself’ big. Coupé yelled again, flying up close to smother the remainder of the fire with her wings. The plane groaned and creaked, and she maneuvered her way beneath the wing, pushing upward again.
The fire was gone.
“Holy shit,” was all Sonar could manage.
By the time they had safely landed it and checked in on the pilots and small amount of passengers, they only had minor injuries. Coupé watched Sonar, now in his usual form, adjusting his tie.
“Nice work.”
He blinked. “Does that mean I get to see your boobs?”
Despite herself, she smiled and shoved him lightly. “In. Your. Dreams.”
“Eh, was worth a shot. Race you back to SDN!” With a takeoff that nearly knocked her over, he launched into the sky. Coupé spread her wings, and flew.
***
The rest of the week went by without a hitch. Not one of her teammates treated her any differently than they had before the Red Ring incident, and if any of the other dispatchers sent her a sideways glance, Golem would glare at them, Prism would curse them out, and Punch Up would flip them off.
It was…really nice. She hadn’t gotten to know any of the villains she worked with, but she did know they would have given her up to save their own skins if it came down to it. To be honest, she would have done the same with them. That was how it worked.
That wasn’t how it worked with the Z-Team.
Coupé sat on her couch beside Punch Up. They were watching the Nutcracker together, and out of the corner of her eye she watched him. He was so enamored by the ballerinas; the way they moved, the graceful spins and gentle way they lifted each other up. She was enamored by his love of the dance, the way that he was always moved to tears whenever he watched ballet and how he was never once ashamed of it.
Suddenly, he turned and they locked eyes. His deep brown irises were swimming in unshed tears, but he was smiling at her nonetheless. “Whatcha lookin’ at, Coop?” His tone was nothing if not fond.
Feeling her cheeks heat, she averted her gaze and huffed, shoving his shoulder. “Nothing.”
On the television, the sweet sound of Pas de Deux began to play. The Sugarplum Fairy and her Prince joined together in the center of the stage. Through her lashes, Coupé watched the way they looked at each other, big smiles plastered on their faces for the crowd. Suddenly, the screen was blocked by Punch Up’s broad shoulders as he moved in front of her, a calloused, bruised palm offered up to her.
“Could I have this dance, Ms. Fairy?”
Coupé stared at him, at the genuine smile on his face, and found herself inexplicably smiling in return. Placing her slender head atop his broad one, she took note of the blush that spread across his nose and giggled. “I’d be honored, Your Majesty.” Gripping her hand, Punch Up pulled her to her feet with a flair, spinning her out so that both their arms were outstretched. Coupé yelped and laughed as he pulled her in to dip her, so low to the ground her head was almost touching the carpet. “Where did you learn this?” she asked through a fit of giggles.
“Been watchin’ plenty o’ ballet, love,” he answered, his whiskers nearly tickling her chin. He straightened them both up, gently placing one hand on either side of her torso. If it were anyone else, they would have had a knife in their neck before they could blink. With him, her whole body was set aflame, tingling with electric energy. She stood up on her toes, lifting her left leg behind her in a perfect arabesque. When Punch Up lifted her in the air, first out in front of him, then above him, it was a feeling akin to flying, but even better. She didn’t need her wings when they danced to the Pas de Deux, the dance for two.
When the song came to its graceful conclusion, Punch Up gently lowered her back to the ground. His breath was coming quickly, his face still merrily red, and she figured she probably looked similar as she gazed down at him.
“Coop, I…Jaysus, yer bleedin’ beautiful. We should be doin’ this more often.” He sounded out of breath. It took her breath away, too. The electricity she’d been feeling was bubbling over, tickling every part of her body as they just stared into each other’s eyes, inches apart. “I just adore ye.”
The surprise came when her loudest thought was, I want to kiss him.
The tingly feeling in her body was suddenly overshadowed by absolute panic. She pulled back from him as her heart pounded, wondering if maybe she might be having a heart attack. Slowly, his hands, which still hovered where she was standing a moment ago, dropped to his side. He looked rather hurt, which quickly morphed into sheepishness. “Shite. Sorry. Did I overstep?”
Coupé closed her eyes, focusing on her breath. It sort of echoed in her ears, but when she opened her eyes again, he was standing by her side.
“Can I touch ye?”
She nodded, and he easily rested a hand on the small of her back, providing just a whisper of comfort. All of her shame exploded in her chest. “I’m…” she breathed. “I’m sorry.”
“For what, love?” His brow was knit together, like he truly had no clue what she could be apologizing for. “Ye set yer boundary. It’s no fault but me own.”
Coupé sank slowly to the ground, and Punch Up followed her. Her brain and her body were screaming at her. She didn’t deserve Punch Up’s friendship. She didn’t deserve his unconditional love. Everything had been easier in the beginning, before she’d truly begun to care for him. When they were just hooking up, it was wonderful - but he’d wormed his way into her heart, and it just couldn’t work that way. When everything was said and done, she’d never be more than what she was - a cold-blooded assassin, incapable of love.
“I’m broken,” she managed, the only words that she was able to untangle from this mess.
“Like Hell ye are,” he huffed dismissively, like it was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “No one’s broken. Ain’t how people work.”
Despite his comforting hand on her back, she couldn’t help but curl in on herself. “You should hate me.”
“I don’t.”
“But you should.”
She sort of assumed if she said it enough, it would make him realize she was right. He didn’t even bat an eye. “I hate a lotta bastards in this world, Coop. Ye haven’t given me any reason to be includin’ ye in that list.”
Still curled on herself, she turned a little, burying her face in his shoulder instead. Instinctually, his arm came around her, and it made it a little easier to breathe. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ye be worrying about that. Like I said, I love ye no matter what.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and let him hold her after that. There was no telling how long they sat there, but the next thing she knew, she woke up in bed, tucked in, alone.
***
If someone asked Coupé how she had ended up at Blonde Blazer’s apartment, she wouldn’t be able to tell them.
Well, she would tell them that Malevola, Prism and Visi had cornered her in the bathroom at work the next Friday and basically begged her to meet them at Crypto Night after work. They called it a ‘girls’ night. A part of her wanted to flatly reject them and continue on with her day, but she also knew they’d been itching to connect with her again, and maybe having a few drinks with them wouldn’t be so bad.
Plus, they never got to go to Crypto Night anymore, seeing as Robert and Flambae were both banned.
When she stepped into the bar later that night, she was almost immediately flagged down by Malevola in the back, and when Coupé made her way through the crowd of sweaty, drunk superheros, she found herself sitting at a table beside her. Much to her surprise, there was Mandy as well, her cheeks flushed, her dark hair a mess of waves down her back.
Before she could ask where the others were, she noticed two drinks floating shakily toward the table, Prism standing beside them with a huge grin on her face. When Visi made herself visible again, she was so close Coupé could smell the alcohol on her. “You’re late!”
Despite the terrible smell of the bar and the loud drunken singing from another group of heroes in the corner of the room, Coupé smiled and took the two glasses from Visi. “Fashionably.”
It didn’t take long for her to catch up, during which she found out that they’d snuck Mandy in here using Malevola’s portals, and the bartender was either too busy to notice or couldn’t give less of a shit. She also heard some stories from when she’d been…gone, including Flambae attempting to kill Robert, Golem getting so drunk he almost pissed on a school building, and Sonar beginning his own streaming channel.
By the time she had a nice buzz going, Prism had returned from the dance floor looking annoyed. “I can’t take these crusty-ass, smelly-ass bitches anymore. Can we go somewhere else?”
Mandy laughed, covering her mouth as she snorted. “This is great. You can come to my place.”
After a bit of stumbling, Malevola raised an arm and created a portal. “In ya go!” She shoved Mandy forward, sharing a mischievous grin with Prism and Visi as they followed quickly behind. Malevola glanced up at Coupé, putting on a dramatic flair. “After you, madam.”
Coupé managed a sort of ungraceful, tipsy curtsy, and stepped through. One moment, she was standing in a stuffy bar - the next, she found herself in a large warmly lit living room.
The floor was a very dark wood adorned with a royal blue, plush rug. Atop the rug stood two long leather couches, enough for four people to sit on each, with a loveseat to match. The walls were patterned in white and blue flowers, with various pictures of Mandy and people Coupé didn’t recognize. Mandy herself was currently in the process of trying to light the large fireplace beneath the mounted television while the rest of them looked on in awe.
They were villains, once. They wouldn’t have ever dreamed of a place like this to call home. For a hero like Blonde Blazer, it made sense.
“Damn, bitch, you live like this?” As the sounds of the bar disappeared with the closing portal, Prism had pulled her visor up onto her head, surveying the apartment as if she were a potential buyer.
Visi wasted no time flopping back onto one of the couches, the tension in her shoulders immediately relaxing. “Ooh, that’s nice.”
Perhaps if she were sober, the comment would have made Mandy self-conscious, but she didn’t say anything, too focused on getting the fire lit. “A-ha!” She turned around triumphantly and stumbled to her loveseat, grinning widely at them all. “Make yourselves at home!”
Unsteadily, Prism plopped herself down beside Mandy. Malevola and Coupé sat themselves beside Visi. It was suddenly very obvious how strange it felt to be in the silence after the noise of the bar.
“Y’know, I used to think you were super corny,” Visi said finally, looking at Mandy with a certain glint in her eye, “and now, I still think you’re corny. I guess you’re pretty fun to hang around, though.”
Each of the girls let out a quiet chuckle, and Mandy, despite the backhanded compliment, absolutely lit up. Her cheeks, rosy red, lifted with a bright smile. “Aw, Visi! Thank you! You know, I am so, so proud of you. Your life hasn’t been easy, but you’ve really turned it around for the better. I’m proud to call you my friend.”
Visi scoffed, looking away, but it was clear by the blush that rose to her cheeks that she appreciated the sentiment.
“Oh, are we gonna do that thing that girls do at parties where they get drunk and start complimenting each other?” Malevola asked, and though her tone was mostly level, she didn’t seem all that bothered by the idea. “I’ll go next. Prism, you’re still the coolest person I know. For real.”
Prism looked just about ready to get up and leave at the thought of being nice, but Malevola’s words made her smirk, a somewhat genuine look on her tipsy face. “Damn right, Mal.” She swept her gaze around for a moment, stopping on Coupé. “Alright, you know what, I been meaning to say this anyways. Girl, you did what any of us woulda done in your place, and I’m glad you found your way back here. I missed your spooky ass.”
There was a moment of stunned silence afterward, but seeing as Prism seemed to be regretting her decision, Coupé smiled - real, genuine. “Thank you. I’m glad I found my way back, too.” Knowing she didn’t want the spotlight on her long, she looked at the woman beside her, tilting her head. “Malevola, I would kill for you.”
“Aw, Coop!” Despite the fact that it was a small compliment in comparison to the rest, Malevola grinned, a hand over her heart. Coupé didn’t know if she was genuinely touched, playing it up, or both. She assumed both. “I’d kill for you, too.”
Mandy looked around at the girls, clearly eating this up. She’d been there for the formation of the Z-Team; she probably loved getting to see them genuinely getting along now. “...What now?”
“Now we gossip, bitch,” Prism answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Nodding enthusiastically, Visi leaned forward from where she was sitting, the glint in her eye turned toward Coupé now. “Like whatever the hell’s goin’ on with you and Punch. You got that man wrapped around your finger like a condom around a dick.”
Coupé’s heart skipped a beat. Before she could respond, Prism raised a brow. “Damn, never seen your face get so pale so quickly. Must be onto somethin’, Visi.”
“I’m just saying! We all see it! He was, like, an angry little shit for a week after she left, and since she came back he’s been following her around like a lost puppy.” Visi returned her gaze to Coupé, who was almost glad she was doing all the talking, because she had no idea what to say. “She’s probably friendzoning him.”
“Whaaaat? No way,” Prism tutted, glancing at Visi. “You seen the way they look at each other?”
Somewhat pensively, Malevola glanced at Coupé. “I dunno, mate. Maybe we should let Coop answer that, instead of talking for her?”
Suddenly, four sets of eyes were trained on her. It was like the conversation she had in the hospital with Malevola but way more intense. Coupé thought back on the night they shared together recently, ruined by her own fear of love, and that brief expression of hurt on his face when she’d pulled away from him.
“I don’t know,” she said finally, simply.
“You don’t?” Mandy asked, looking somewhat surprised. “Well, we don’t know about Punch Up, but…how do you feel?”
Uneasily, Coupé looked between the group. What did it mean when she was so lost, but apparently everyone else had things figured out already? “He’s my friend,” she replied, this time a little less sure of herself. “Our history is history. That’s all.”
Visi let out a long groan. “Boring.”
“I mean, really, have you seen the way he looks at you?”
“She’s not wrong.”
“I totally thought you’ve been together since you rejoined the Z-Team…”
Coupé sighed quietly, leaning forward on her elbows. “I don’t know,” she said again. “I…can’t be who he needs. He deserves someone like that.”
“But you’re what he wants! If you can’t see that, you’re really blind,” Prism scoffed, shaking her head. “Who fuckin’ cares about needs and wants? That man loves you, girl.”
Quiet hums of agreement were passed around the group. Coupé couldn’t tell if she felt better or worse about that revelation. She knew deep down that Punch Up would re-enter a relationship with her the second she gave him the word, but how would that be fair to him?
“You’re overthinking it,” Mandy continued, pulling her messy hair up into a near perfect pony-tail. “You’re not letting yourself think about what you want. What do you want?”
Coupé closed her eyes, truly thinking about it. She wanted…to be held by him. She wanted to spend nights with him again. She wanted to dance with him.
“I want…to see him more often,” she said slowly. “I want to laugh with him.”
“Sounds enough like a confession to me,” Visi replied, a little more genuine than before. “Just tell him. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Hundreds of possibilities swarmed through Coupé’s mind. She dismissed them, and nodded, if only to get them to stop talking about it. “I will consider it.” To change the subject as quickly as possible, she turned to Malevola. “How are Sonar’s NA meetings going?”
Malevola let out a long, long sigh. “I’ll need another drink for that.” She lifted a hand, created a portal back to the bar, stole the first glass she could see, and closed it back up. The rest of them laughed at the absurdity and the air in the room became more relaxed again. They spent hours in Mandy’s living room, talking into the wee hours of the morning.
When Coupé felt Visi nod off beside her, she pulled the fluffy white blanket from the back of the couch, tossing it over her lap as well as Malevola’s. She glanced over at Prism and Mandy, both dozing off themselves, and figured being stuck here tonight wouldn’t be the worst place to be. She closed her eyes and let herself drift.
***
“Looks like something’s going on at the yacht club near the ocean. Punch Up, Coop, you guys are up.”
Mandy’s voice was level over the comms, all professional, as if the conversation they’d had the other night hadn’t happened at all. Coupé almost expected to hear light teasing from the other girls, but nothing came. She exhaled slowly and turned her comm on.
“On it.”
When she stepped out of the building, Punch Up was already there. Upon seeing her, he lit up as he tapped the end of his cigar. “We gotta stop meetin’ like this.”
Despite herself, she smiled, plucking the cigar from his hand to take a drag of it herself. “Us? Never.”
His face, still bright with a smile, reddened slightly as she exhaled a small amount of smoke into the air. Once she had finished, she tossed the mostly finished cigar into the nearby can, wordlessly holding out her hands. Punch Up took them in his own, and they both tightened their grip as she unfurled her wings, taking off into the air.
It was late afternoon now, with the sun hanging low in the sky. It was bright, bathing the entire city in a golden hue that was even more beautiful from this high up. Coupé was flying slower than she would if she were by herself, but honestly, getting to appreciate the sights was a welcome change from time to time.
“Nice, bein’ up here,” Punch Up called over the wind. “Makes me feel like we can do anythin’, y’know?”
Coupé smiled to herself, chancing a glance downward at him. His green eyes were sparkling in the sunlight, and she felt her heart skip a beat again. “Yeah.” She tightened her grip on his hands, but if he noticed, he didn’t say anything.
They landed on the roof of the club quietly. Through the open glass sunroof, they were able to see at least a dozen men, if not more, seemingly protecting something behind a closed door. Punch Up and Coupé had been on so many jobs together at this point that they barely needed words to communicate their plan. Looking into each other’s eyes, Coupé knew he wanted her to hang around on the rafters to do some reconnaissance and silent takedowns while he snuck around on the ground, attempting to find the key to open the door they were guarding.
She smiled. He smiled back. “See ya later, love.” He hopped down onto the nearest bar, silently flipping himself to the next and the next until he landed gracefully on the ground behind one of the yachts. Quietly, she lowered herself down onto the highest rafter, folding her wings back behind her and beginning to take note of their surroundings.
It was not unlike a large warehouse, but with plenty of yachts on display. From what she understood, the richest people in LA liked to come here and talk about the boats, go back and forth about buying them when there were ‘such great deals’. Right now, she didn’t see any people she would consider potential buyers here - Coupé supposed it was probably the perfect place for crime to occur, even in broad daylight.
Her gaze swept the area. One broad-shouldered man stood guard at the entrance, and two stood guard at the mysterious door. Not counting those three, she also counted fifteen others patrolling the room. There was no telling how many there’d be behind the door, either. It was, perhaps, a little more serious than Mandy had thought.
Sure, it would be a challenge, but she was pretty sure she and Punch Up had been through much worse.
She glanced toward the entrance, noticing Punch Up silently and quietly standing behind the man standing guard, expertly moving to extract the key ring from his belt. As another guard rounded the corner, Coupé quickly pulled a knife and tossed it at the floor to distract him, stopping the guard in his tracks. His confused expression as he looked up at the shadows and found nothing would almost be satisfying if her heart wasn’t beating so fast.
When she looked down again, she found Punch Up hiding behind one of the yachts, animatedly holding up the key ring. Coupé laughed to herself, quietly lifting a hand to her ear.
“You ready?”
Even from many feet below, Coupé could see his huge grin. “Born ready.”
“One, two, three!”
Silently, she descended from the rafter, landing directly on one of the guards. Punch Up took that moment to rush at the one closest to him, performing his ‘special move’ before joining Coupé in the middle of the room. Back to back, they worked together in sync, like they hadn’t ever been apart. Handing him four of her knives, he held on tight as she tossed him into the air, where he threw each knife with incredible accuracy, sticking each guard in the shoulder and incapacitating them.
By the time each of the men were either unconscious or moaning on the floor, Punch Up was looking at Coupé, his eyes sparkling. “I think we got a new personal best!”
“Hm, eighteen men in about three minutes?” She smiled. “We’re good.”
“Now, then, how ‘bout we see what these dipsticks’re hidin’?”
He pulled out the keyring from his belt, but Coupé suddenly stopped him. Something was wrong. Gripping his arm tightly, she yanked him to hide behind the closest yacht just as the mysterious door opened.
A very tall man walked out into the room, brushing himself off, seemingly not bothered by the mess that was in front of him. He wore a dark suit that complimented his olive skin and long, curly hair. Flanking him were two other men holding very large guns. Coupé froze, feeling her heart stop. Hundreds of emotions rushed to her suddenly, making her quite lightheaded.
“Effacé,” she murmured under her breath.
“E-face?” Punch Up muttered, quiet enough that only she could hear. “Dumb name. Ye know this guy, Coop?”
An unpleasant shudder ran down her back as she watched the tall man’s gaze scan the area with narrowed eyes. “Eh-fah-say. It means ‘shaded.’” She knew he probably wouldn’t remember, but she corrected him anyway. “This man is…the leader of the mob. He’s the one who took me in after my parents died.”
For a moment, there wasn’t a response. Then, a quiet exhale. “Holy shite.”
Coupé closed her eyes.
“Ah, my dear. You have returned.” The man’s dark eyes were practically boring through her. “When you did not come home last night, I was worried you’d gotten hurt! But not my Coupé. She’s unstoppable. Sixty-eight kills and zero failures. I trust that number has gone up?”
Hanging her head, Coupé worried at her bottom lip with her teeth. “I apologize for being so late, Effacé. It will not happen again.”
“Good, good.” He leaned back in his seat. “And I suppose that means the job is done?”
Another wave of shame washed over her. “...I could not do it.”
His eyes narrowed. “Oh?”
“His skin. My knives could not penetrate his skin, no matter how much I tried.”
“And did you even try anything else?” Effacé’s voice was almost bored. “Strangulation, poison, blunt force? There are other ways to take people out, Coupé. I’m disappointed.”
Coupé hesitated a moment. “You’re right. I’m sorry. But he was…” she trailed off, realizing how absolutely stupid she sounded. She’d been selfish, spending the night with that man.
Suddenly, she found herself pinned against the wall. Effacé grabbed her by the chin so that she would have to look at him. “No buts,” he whispered. “When a client orders a hit, we complete it. Now is not the time to have a change in morals, my dear. You are a cold-blooded killer. You will never be anything more than that.” He punched her in the stomach, and as she doubled over, she heard the disappointment in his voice. “I will give you one more chance. Go finish your hit. You can’t have this mistake on your record.”
“Coop?”
Her eyes suddenly flew open, and in somewhat of a panic, she looked around, her gaze landing on Punch Up. His hand was on his shoulder, thankfully grounding. She peeked above the yacht, watching one of Effacé’s lackeys walk toward one of the downed guards, picking up one of the knives. He turned it over in his hand, then walked over to Effacé, presenting it to him.
Recognition painted his face as he took the knife. He smiled, somewhat mischievously. “Oh, it must be my lucky day,” he murmured. “My long lost bird has come home to roost.”
Coupé felt her heart skip a beat again. She couldn’t help but wonder if those men with Effacé were men she knew. She had only a few people she talked to when she was with the mob, only a few that showed her the ropes and treated her like a person instead of something on the bottom of their shoe. Could they be -?
“Love,” Punch Up’s voice was still quiet, but she could hear the worry in his tone. “Ye alright?”
“Come out, come out, wherever you are, my dear.” Effacé’s voice was singsong. It made her nauseous.
“I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with,” she answered softly.
He gently squeezed her shoulder. “Together.”
Coupé nodded and took a deep breath, readying some knives. She stood up, aiming two at the guards while Punch Up ran out from behind the yacht. Much to her surprise, the knives bounced right off of them - bulletproof vests, maybe. Before Punch Up could land a hit on one of the guards, he was grabbed by the neck and lifted into the air.
A look of absolute wonder came to Effacé’s face. “Ah, I was wondering when we’d get to meet,” he murmured, staring at Punch Up for a moment as he struggled. “You know, I can’t believe you’ve stayed alive this long. Who the hell knows what she saw in you, really. To throw your whole life away over a man…” He tutted, finally looking at Coupé, who was frozen in place, not wanting to move for fear of them hurting Punch Up. “Aw, the assassin thinks she can be a hero. It’s cute.”
“I…am a hero,” she breathed, tightening her grip on her knives. “Let him go.”
“Ah, but didn’t you see earlier? Your knives have no effect on my guys here.” Effacé almost looked bored. “Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. You put those things away, you let us finish what we gotta do, and we’ll let you go.”
She glanced at Punch Up. “What about him?”
“Well, we’re going to finish what you couldn’t, of course.”
Letting out a strangled cry, Coupé took to the sky and aimed a knife directly at the guard’s hand that was around Punch Up’s throat, which did puncture the skin. The guard quickly let go of Punch Up, who dropped to his feet and immediately hopped out of the way of gunfire. He ran at the other guard while Coupé aimed a knife for Effacé, but she hesitated.
One day, she had been very small. She was scared. She was surrounded by blood and police asking her hard questions, when suddenly a dark shadow slipped into the room. A nice man told her he could take her somewhere quiet. She went with him. He bought her a donut and gave her his umbrella when it rained. He was nice to her. He gave her the name Coupé, after the French word ‘to cut’. It made her feel special.
Something yanked at her ankle. A shadow violently pulled her back down to the ground, landing her on her back. Above her, Effacé, a man who had saved her once before, was now regarding her coldly. “I should have killed you a long time ago,” he said with a sigh. “You were a loose end, but I’ve always been sentimental.”
“Effacé,” she muttered, “please.”
Suddenly, Punch Up appeared, hitting him right in the groin. They expected him to double over, but he simply looked down as if Punch Up was a bug, beneath him. He slowly melted into the floor, a large, dark shadow suddenly swallowing Punch Up whole. “You cannot escape this time,” a booming voice echoed as Coupé moved into the swirling shadow, trying to find him.
Dead end after dead end. She couldn’t see anything. She called out, but her voice was lost in the darkness. Finally, a flash of green. She turned and ran. Punch Up turned around, just as relieved to see her as she was, when his eyes suddenly widened.
“Look out!”
It happened slowly. He pushed her out of the way as there was a sudden, very bright light. She squinted, watching it travel through the shadow toward them. It was too late when she realized it was a missile of some kind that connected squarely with Punch Up’s chest. He went flying backward as the shadow dissolved, leaving only Effacé standing beside one of his goons, holding a rocket launcher of some kind.
In horror, Coupé watched Punch Up collide with the wall and fall limply to the ground below. For a long moment, she was frozen, until Effacé said something that made her blood run cold.
“See, now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? You could have been perfect, my dear, if you’d simply tried.”
An inhuman yell ripped out of her throat. She lunged at the guard first, stabbing a knife directly into his neck. As the blood spurted out onto the ground, she turned, nearly animalistic, as she tackled Effacé, ripping the rocket launcher from his hands and pinning both wrists to the ground.
“You’ve grown soft,” he spat, beginning to melt into the floor again. She brought her knife down without hesitating this time, and it slashed his cheek, which made him become solid again. For a moment, she saw genuine fear in his eyes.
“Fuck you.” She brought the knife down again. And again. And again.
Blood splattered across her mask and her chest. She didn’t care.
Usually, the dark shadow of regret would loom over her, but right now, it was nowhere to be found. He hurt Punch Up - he deserved this. She stood slowly, kicking his body away from her in disgust. Her heart fell into her stomach as she dropped the knife, rushing to Punch Up’s side.
He was facedown in the concrete and unmoving. With a shaky hand, she rolled him onto his back, showcasing the deep wound across his head and the huge, ugly burn mark on his chest. His eyes were closed, his mouth slack, his face all scratched up. He didn’t react at all as she pulled his head up onto her lap.
“Punch Up,” she gasped, his name shocking her tongue. “Punch Up, wake up. Wake up!”
There was no response. There was no stupid joke, no silly grin, no blush upon his cheeks. There was so much blood. God, there was so much blood.
He was supposed to be indestructible, so why was there so much blood?
“Colm!”
The name ripped out of her throat in fiery desperation, feeling the hot burn of tears travel down her cheeks. She never called him that. She didn’t know why. Maybe, she thought, it was too personal. Maybe, she thought, it would make it easier for him to realize she wasn’t right for him. Coupé was sort of regretting it, now.
“Colm, please,” she cried, gently cupping his cheek with one hand, the other hand resting on his chest. “I love you!”
The yacht club suddenly felt so cold and empty and lonely. The heaviness of the words she’d just exclaimed rattled her brain. She loved him. She loved him. She loved him.
There was a faint heartbeat beneath her palm. She reached up to her comm to turn it on. “Punch Up is really hurt,” she managed, her voice shaking. “Please, someone…someone has to help him!”
“Oh, God,” Mandy said immediately, concern evident in her voice. “Okay, hold on. Who’s close b -”
“I’m on my way.” Malevola cut her off. “It’ll be okay, Coop. Hang tight.”
Suddenly, Punch Up coughed. It was quiet, barely audible, but there. His eyes fluttered open as he leaned into her touch, slurring his words together. “W-What’s the long face fer? Ye look like an…like an angel,” he mumbled, his eyelids fluttering closed.
Her heart flipped in her chest. Tears still streaming down her face, she swiped her thumb across his cheek. “You have to keep your eyes open,” she coaxed, her voice shaking a little. “Can you do that for me, love?” Punch Up hummed softly, but he didn’t open them. “Colm?”
“Mm, sorry, thought I did,” he mumbled, his body falling limp again.
“Shit,” she whispered, smacking his cheek lightly. His head lolled to the side and he didn’t respond otherwise. Before she could panic more, the area near the door tore open in a blaze of red and purple.
Malevola stepped through and rushed to the other side of Punch Up. If she noticed the tears on Coupé’s face, she didn’t say anything. She lifted a hand, dissolving the first portal, and concentrated on a second one. It opened in the infirmary at SDN, and Coupé looked at Malevola gratefully.
“Thank you,” she breathed, hoisting Punch Up over her shoulder to face the portal. Malevola simply gave her a small smile, and shoved her through.
“Don’t be afraid!”
The portal closed. Doctors swarmed her immediately, probably already given a heads-up by Mandy, and Coupé was shoved out of the room while they worked on him. She cursed at a few of the doctors as the doors shut behind her. As she was demanding to be let back in, she noticed a familiar figure approach.
“Y’know, yelling doesn’t usually get you anything.”
She slowly let her arm drop back to her side and turned to Robert, who had such pity in his eyes it was staggering. She hadn’t known him to have much emotion in his expression, but it was there, clear as day.
When she didn’t respond, Robert looked her up and down, this time a little apprehensively. “Um, you…you got a lot of blood, there.”
She glanced down at her chest, soaked in Punch Up’s blood, and her face, which she knew was stained in Effacé’s blood. “It’s…not mine.”
Suddenly, the hot wave of tears crashed over her once again. She pressed her hands over her face, feeling so small. The sobs that wracked her body were like none she could remember. Surely she had cried like this, once, when she was very young, but right now, all it did was hurt.
“Alright. Alright, come here.” Before she knew it, Robert was standing directly in front of her, and he gently pulled her into an embrace, light enough she could pull away if she wanted to. She would have, under normal circumstances.
It hurt too much to let go.
She dropped her forehead onto his shoulder and cried. He held her for a long time.
***
The same doctors that told her he would be alright, but didn’t know when he’d wake up, got frustrated with her when she wouldn’t leave at closing time. After threatening them with her knives, they simply let her be, clearly knowing that would be a losing battle; or maybe it was Robert who convinced them to let it go.
Malevola was the first to visit an hour or two later, gently but forcefully telling Coupé to go shower in the locker room because she was still caked in blood and dirt. Coupé wanted to tell her she didn’t care, but she knew that Punch Up wouldn’t react well to seeing her covered in dry blood, whether it was hers or not. So she went to the locker room while Malevola watched over him for her. When she returned, there’d been no change, but she felt somewhat better.
The next to visit were Mandy and Robert, who came with a bottle of water and a sandwich. Coupé wanted to tell them she wasn’t hungry, but her body betrayed her with a rumble. She took the bottle first and drank the whole thing in one go, then tore into the sandwich like she hadn’t eaten in days. Mandy watched her quietly, a mix of emotions in her stormy eyes, and Robert stood beside her like stone, a grounding presence. Mandy apologized for sending the two of them without backup. Coupé told her there was nothing to apologize for. The mob was taken care of.
Golem and Sonar came in next, tossing mostly wilted flowers into a vase by Punch Up’s bedside. Their bantering was a welcome distraction. Golem told Coupé about his favorite memory with Punch Up - tossing him through a glass door. Sonar swore he saw Punch Up’s unconscious face twitch at the mention of it, and though Coupé wished it were so, she couldn’t believe it until she saw it herself.
Prism and Flambae came by soon after, forcefully telling Coupé that she had nothing to fear, and that he would bounce back. Throwing a few loving insults through the conversation, either directed at her or him, the two of them didn’t have the bite they usually did. Perhaps the injury had thrown them off just as much as it had thrown her off. To see a man like Punch Up, who was supposedly indestructible, get this wounded would make anyone panic a little.
Late in the night, Visi appeared out of thin air, telling her she looked like shit. Coupé was aware, but didn’t exactly care much about that thought. Insisting she would watch him, Visi told Coupé to get some sleep, which she half-heartedly fought because she could barely keep her eyes open. Leaning against the hospital bed, Coupé was reminded of how their places had been switched after she’d fainted all those weeks ago, and let herself drift. When she woke up, Visi, as promised, was still there.
Waterboy came in last, by himself. He was a nervous wreck, as usual, but there was something heavy in his expression as he loomed over Punch Up’s unconscious form. Coupé honestly couldn’t tell if he was his normal wet or if he was crying a little. He told her how Punch Up had been one of the first to welcome him to the team, despite the consistent bullying. He told her how, despite whatever his criminal background was, he really had a good heart.. She had known this already, but seeing someone else believe it so firmly filled her with a sense of warmth.
Coupé was alone again when Punch Up groaned softly.
Lifting her gaze to the face she adored so much, she held her breath and waited. Slowly, his eyes blinked open, squinting in the white light. As he took inventory of his surroundings, his gaze finally landed on her. Immediately, he smiled, soft and loving. “Ye look like shite.”
“Says the man in the hospital bed,” she replied, relief hitting her like a train. She leaned forward a bit, taking one of his large hands in her own. “How do you feel?”
Punch Up thought about it for a moment, exhaling quietly as he glanced down at their hands. “Beat up,” he answered, a rare genuine reply. “What happened back there, Coop? Me brain’s all fuzzy.”
Shaking her head, she swiped her thumb across his knuckles. “One of the mob guards used a rocket launcher. You…protected me.”
Some recognition painted his face as he turned his gaze toward his bandaged chest. “Oh. Yep. That’ll do it.” Suddenly, the use of his voice for the first time in days wracked his small body with coughs. Coupé wasted no time grabbing the cup of water left for him, supporting his neck to help him drink. Once she pulled back, he reached up to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, clearly winded. “How long was I out?”
“About two days,” she answered softly, which made a flash of panic cross his expression. “Don’t worry about it. Mandy is well aware, and the Z-Team has made do without us.”
“Us?” His brows knit together and he tilted his head. “Ye mean, ye stayed here all this time?”
She was reminded of her own confusion upon seeing him when she woke up in the infirmary bed. She nodded. “Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”
A genuine smile pulled at his lips as he leaned back against the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. Slowly, it faded. “Ye never told me about E-face.”
His face flashed in her mind - the self-congratulatory grin on his lips as he told her she wouldn’t be anything but a deadly assassin, as he shot Punch Up, as he tore her world to shreds. “It’s not something I like to talk about,” she replied with a quiet sigh. “Anyway, he’s dead now. I killed him for what he did to you.”
Punch Up eyed her for a moment. He was never one to judge her ability to kill; he always said she was beautiful no matter what, inside and out, but he probably felt a little guilty about the fact that she’d done it on his behalf. “I’m honored,” he said finally. “I hope SDN won’t be givin’ ye a hard time.”
“Mandy said she would look past it this time, considering his background.” She wondered how he always did this; he was the one in the hospital bed, worrying about her well-being. “Called it self-defense.” It wasn’t. She knew that, and so did Mandy.
Quietly, he reached his hand forward to take her hand again. She let him. “I’m glad yer okay. Must not’ve been easy.”
Coupé huffed a sigh. Of course it hadn’t been easy - she thought she’d been free from him, but all this time, Effacé had been what was holding her back. It was him who told her she’d never be able to love or be loved. It was him who told her she’d never be more than an assassin. It was him who gave her her name.
It was Punch Up, though, who saw her for who she really was.
Her feelings were still the same, deep down. Her fear of love was still there, but what she felt for Punch Up was real. After everything that had happened, that was most important.
“I love you,” she said after a much too long pause.
His eyes widened, a dark blush rising to his cheeks. Sputtering over his words, he averted his gaze, managing, “I-I thought that ye…I mean, I love ye too, but…”
Coupé stood up, leaning over him. The shadow she provided over his face made him look up as she gently placed a hand on his cheek. “I love you, Colm,” she repeated, this time a little more confidently. “Seeing you get so hurt, I…I panicked. It made me realize.” She swallowed, leaning down, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. She felt him freeze beneath him, but it only lasted a moment before he basically melted, returning the kiss.
It was nothing like their first night together. Their first night together was full of fiery passion, quick movements and lust. Now it was gentle and loving and slow, really savoring every single second together. When she pulled away, she noticed his entire face was red, a stupid grin on his face as his eyes fluttered open again.
“Wow,” he breathed, like he couldn’t believe it. “Don’t think ye’ve ever called me that, love.”
“Trying something new.” Coupé smiled in return and leaned down again, where he was more than happy to continue. After a few moments, she pulled back and sat on the edge of the hospital bed, then lay down to curl up next to him against the pillows. He placed an arm around her, pulling her close. “I’m sorry it took so long.”
Pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, his chuckle rumbled in his chest, a pleasant sensation for her. “No need for all that. I woulda waited forever for ye, Janelle.”
Coupé’s heart did a somersault as she pressed closer, breathing in the familiar scent of cigars and whiskey.
“I know you would have.”
Honestly, she was glad, for both their sakes, that it didn’t take that long.