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The red strings strung taut around the light pole as he willed himself up, stumbling to a halt at the top of the building. His breath came in quick bursts, fast and painful as he forced himself to stay standing despite his swimming vision.
Grian clenched his hands tightly at his sides, feeling the burning pain that emanated from the large gash in his abdomen, his chest heaved, his breathing audible as he willed the strings to stitch up the wound, to keep himself from bleeding out.
Gargoyle had come out of nowhere with his stupid axe and his stupid superstrength and Grian had gotten fucking bodied within seconds and that shouldn’t have happened. He unclenched his fists, shaking his head, he was getting rusty, he couldn’t afford to make mistakes like that, couldn’t afford to be snuck up on.
He shouldn’t have been snuck up on. He should’ve been paying attention.
There was a cut down his forearm, thin and stinging from where Firefly’s tail had managed to tear his hood, a gash down his leg from when Gargloyle’s axe managed to nick it, and a series of cuts on his back, tearing into his wing, from Wraith’s claws.
Grian took a deep breath in, clenching his fist as he did, and then slowly let it out, opening his hand and feeling the strings stitch up the cuts.
The stinging in his arm settled into nothing more than a dull ache, and he no longer had to limp anymore, able to walk properly on his leg with nothing more than a slight throbbing pain as he did.
The cuts on his back were too shallow to properly stitch, they screamed angrily at him every time he tried to move his left wing. He couldn’t fly until they were healed.
He could deal with that.
He took another breath. He would have to deal with it.
He felt it this time, because he would never be caught off guard like that again, he couldn’t let himself get caught off guard again.
Someone floating up the side of the building, heat and a slight scent of burning coals following his presence. Grian turned, taking a few steps back to meet eyes with Firefly as he landed on the edge.
A sickening crack sounded from down below, and then Grian could feel someone shooting up like a bullet as Gargoyle landed beside him.
That meant Wraith wasn’t far behind. Grian couldn’t sense him, no movement, no points between the joints of his muscles, that tickled under Grian’s skin, strings begging to be latched onto, to be used to their fullest potential.
Grian clenched his fists.
Wraith was intangible, he must’ve been. Grian couldn’t feel something that wasn’t there.
He ignored how deeply the thought terrified him.
He took a few more steps back, risking a glance behind him to see how close he was to the other end of the building. Far enough away that he didn’t have to worry about it yet. He turned back to the two men in front of him. Gargoyle’s axe glinted menacingly under the moon as it hung from his back, Firefly glowed bright hot red, a fire so powerful Grian could feel the heat of it even with the distance.
He readied his staff, slowly, carefully, mind constantly flitting around, latching on to every movement, a car driving down the road, a bird flying through the air. Wraith would have to show himself eventually.
But he could get right behind Grian, could stab through him before Grian would even have the chance to react, he could stay intangible until it was too late.
And then—and then Grian would be helpless, and they’d take him back and he’d be sent right back to the testing rooms and the needles and the bright lights and the poking and prodding and—
He couldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t go back, he needed to force Wraith to show himself, he couldn’t—he couldn’t risk it.
He eyed Firefly and Gargoyle warily, holding his staff in a defensive position as they took a slow almost tentative step forward.
“Where’s your third?” He spat, voice betraying the immense fear curling in his gut, building like a whirlwind that spread through his body and up his throat, lodging itself there, making it hard to breathe.
“I don’t know,” Firefly said, and if Grian hadn’t known any better he would’ve thought the man was trying to be comforting, “he’s around here somewhere.”
“Liar.” Grian breathed, taking another few steps back, aware of the edge that was growing closer by the second, “You can track exactly where he is with that fancy bracelet of yours.”
He stared up into the sky, “If you can hear me you stupid ghost you better show yourself.” he shouted, breath growing faster and faster by the second, he could feel his chest moving and he hated how affected he was.
He couldn’t afford to be scared, fear made you sloppy, fear made you an easy target.
He stared back at the two heroes he could see, a thought formed in his head, his breath quickened, he could feel the strings tingling just under his fingertips, begging, straining to be used, to be abused, to control.
He unclenched his fist, allowing them to fly out, to latch on and curl around Gargoyle and Firefly, forcing them still, making them mere puppets under his hand.
His breathing was audible, pained, crazed. Something dark and ugly reared up inside him, he had all this power, this ability that he’d been holding back, restraining for so long. It flowed out of him, as easily as if it were breathing.
They couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, couldn’t do anything unless he let them.
They were at his mercy.
It was exhilarating.
It was terrifying.
He held his hand out, forcing them backwards with a mere thought, letting them stumble over their own feet until they stood at the edge of the building where he let them stop. Let them live.
“Show yourself,” He growled, as the fear and desperation swirling within his core combined into something angry and pained, “or I let them fall.”
He stared down the two heroes, even with the masks that covered their faces he could tell that they were terrified.
Terrified of him.
His hand twitched, just barely, such a small movement that it was almost unnoticeable, and they leaned back, hanging precariously on the edge of death, kept alive by nothing more than his thoughts.
He felt him a few paces behind him, his voices placating and desperate.
“Okay, okay, I’m here, I’m right here.” Wraith said quickly, “now just—bring them away from the edge—please.”
Grian turned to face him, he did not lose his hold on the others, but he did allow them to move one step forward, one step away.
Wraith stood with his hands up, his electric batons resting out of reach on his belt. It was such a stark contrast to his usual confident, teasing persona that he played up when they usually interacted.
Suddenly the electric blue accents of his suit weren’t so menacing anymore, suddenly they felt more like ocean currents that were forcing him down.
Wraith sank to his knees slowly, almost painfully slowly, “I’m here, I’m completely at your mercy, okay just—just bring them back.”
Grian breathed heavily, glancing between Wraith on his knees and Gargoyle and Firefly who still stood dangerously close to the edge of the building. For a single moment, his hand shook, and then he held it steady again, pulling the strings taut.
They were under his control.
“Put on your cuff.” Grian whispered, just loud enough for Wraith to hear him.
“Okay,” he said quickly, “It’s in the lowest pocket of my vest. Left side. I’m just going to grab it.”
Grian didn’t reply, simply staring him down. Wraith knew exactly what was at stake if he tried anything. Just to keep him compliant, he flicked his wrist making the other two stumble back. Their feet didn’t actually move, but the sudden gasp he heard from Firefly told him it had done exactly what it needed to.
As long as they were scared they would be compliant.
Wraith pulled out the soft lavender handcuffs from his pocket, they glowed dimly under the night sky, and if Grian focused hard enough, he could hear a faint humming noise emanating from them.
He watched as the hero clipped it around his left wrist, holding it up for Grian to see, “there.” he said, “I’m powerless.”
It was a twisted sort of power complex that shot straight to Grian’s head, “both wrists.” he demanded coldly, just because he could. Because he was the one calling the shots, not them.
Wraith was right.
They were powerless.
He looked as if he was going to argue, so Grian sent Gargoyle and Firefly one more step back, putting them right on that edge again.
“Okay, okay!” Wraith said quickly, he snapped the other cuff around his wrist with some difficulty, “there, both wrists.”
A sick sort of satisfaction settled in his gut, twisted and ugly and wrong, and Grian’s hand shook slightly as he allowed the other two to take a few steps forward.
The strings loosened for just a moment, bending limply under his skin before he pulled them tight again.
“I don’t want you moving a single step.” he whispered, looking down at Wraith, “You know exactly what happens if you do.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Wraith said, and Grian hated, absolutely despised how even his voice was, how gentle it sounded even when Grian was actively holding his friends hostage.
He should be terrified.
He wasn’t.
He turned to Gargoyle and Firefly, still subject to his strings, still his puppets. His breath grew louder, chest heaving faster.
Maybe he could force them to fight each other, he thought, something twisted and sick curling in his gut, maybe then they would see just how terrifying he was, just how powerful he was, then they would know better than to mess with him, know better than to take him back.
He would make them fight, that’s what he’d do. Plain and simple, he would—he would—
“You’re scared.”
Wraith’s voice was clear and steady. It cut sharply through the violent hurricane in Grian’s head.
For a moment, it felt like time stopped, he felt as if he couldn’t move, as if his strings had wrapped around him, tangled him in a web of his own making, closing sharply around his throat, squeezing, forcing the air out of his lungs, stripping him down until he was laid bare for all to see.
It felt like a million eyes were staring straight through his skin, small pinpricks invading his very being, breaking down every defense he’d ever put up.
“You’re wearing the handcuffs.” He whispered, turning back to Wraith, maybe just to prove to himself that they were still on, that he was still in control.
“I don’t need empathy to know that you’re scared.” He said softly, gently, as if trying to placate a wild animal.
“It’s okay,” he breathed, “you’re okay.”
Grian flinched, moving a few steps back, he had to get away from Wraith, away from the prickling eyes that seemed to peel through all the layers of his skin, to stare directly into his soul.
“You don’t know anything.” He snapped, pleaded, maybe, but they didn’t need to know that.
“Not everything.” Wraith agreed quietly. “But I know that you’re scared, and I know that despite what you say you aren’t going to let them fall.” He took a deep breath in, “because I know you’re better than that.”
Grian’s entire body shook, his breathing picked up, growing increasingly fast and labored. His hand shook and the strings at his fingers went limp.
“It's okay.” Wraith breathed, voice so painfully gentle, “you’re okay.”
His chest heaved up and down and up and down—
With a yell Grian yanked them back from the edge, his body crumpled forward as the strings disappeared, retreated back under his control, his restraint. His body shook with tears that threatened to tear down his cheeks.
He didn’t let them.
They could not see him cry, they could not see his weakness.
He felt two bodies moving from behind him. Slowly but surely closing in.
The strings shot back out near instantly, wrapping around their victims, forcing them still.
“Don’t come any fucking closer.” He warned, angry, desperate, scared.
“We won’t.” Firefly said softly, “we’ll stay right here.”
He didn’t believe them for a second.
They had seen his weakness, seen that his threats were empty. They would detain him, they would take him back.
“What do you want from me,” he whispered, shaking. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Nothing.” Gargoyle said, voice soft and kind and wrong. “We don’t want to kill you or hurt you or detain you or turn you in.” he whispered, “I promise.”
Grian laughed, loud and crazed, “like I’m gonna believe that.” he spat, “you think I’m stupid?”
“Not even remotely.” Wraith spoke up. Grian whipped his head back around to glare at the other man. “As for whether we’re lying well we don’t have anything other than our word unfortunately.”
“Let go of my hold.” Firefly said, voice even, “I’ll stay right here.” he promised, “if I move, well then you’ve still got Gargoyle.”
“You could fly down and save him.” Grian breathed, keeping the strings intact.
“I could,” Firefly agreed, “but you’d be able to stop me before I made it that far.”
For a moment there was silence, save for the sound of Grian’s breathing. Eventually he flicked his wrist and the strings around Firefly went limp.
Grian tensed, fully ready for the man to charge at him, or throw a blazing fireball his way. If he did that Grian would use Gargoyle as a body shield.
Instead, Firefly simply sank down until he was sitting, legs crossing in front of him.
Grian stared at him, waiting for one minute, then two, Firefly didn’t move, didn’t shoot fire, didn’t do anything. He just sat in place, exactly as he said he would.
It wasn’t enough.
“You’re not gonna try to take me in?” He asked, hating how small his voice sounded, hating how it shook.
“No.” Firefly answered for all of them, maybe because he was the one most capable of trying something in the moment, maybe they thought that would make it more believable.
Grian could figure out if they were lying in an instant, Gargoyle was incapacitated by his hand, all he’d have to do was find the exposed skin, maybe in the break between their masks and their suits, maybe between their sleeves and their gloves.
He stared at Gargoyle for a long moment, heaving breaths in and out. He closed his hand into a fist as he made the decision, watching as Gargoyle’s arms snapped in place against his side, his legs forced together until he stood almost like a doll.
A flick of Grian’s wrist pulled him forward, and Grian stood up clearing the rest of the distance himself, maybe just to show that he could still stand, still move, that he was still capable of putting up a fight, of being a threat.
A twitch of his fingers forced Gargoyle’s right arm to be outstretched in front of him, presenting itself to Grian. He took it into his own hand, hearing a sharp intake of breath from the other man as he slowly rolled up his sleeve, exposing the pale skin underneath.
He looked up to see Gargoyle’s masked face, golden eyes staring back at him, “You’re not gonna try anything, you don’t want anything to do with me, you’re not gonna turn me in?”
His fingers curled around the thin strip of skin, warm to the touch, almost comforting.
Grian forced out the torrent of thoughts that slipped past his eyes as he let himself see into Gargoyle’s head, focusing only and entirely on the question he’d just asked. It was easy to reach as it was at the forefront of his brain.
“No.” Gargoyle said simply, honestly, and just as quickly as Grian had entered, he pulled his hand away, pulling himself out of the rushing current of thoughts and emotions and focusing back on the person in front of him.
“You aren’t lying.” He whispered, and some part of him still couldn’t fully believe it, even though he had seen it himself, had confirmed unwaveringly that they were being truthful.
“I’m not.” Gargoyle agreed.
Grian stumbled back a few paces, letting the strings around him fall limp completely. Gargoyle didn’t move from where he stood, but he did bring his wrist up to his face, twisting around before pulling his sleeve back up.
“You can read thoughts.” Wraith observed. Grian turned to face him again. A small part of his brain screamed at him for turning his back on potential threats, but Grian had confirmed for himself that they weren’t lying, that they meant no harm.
And either way, Grian would know the moment they tried to move, and he’d be able to do something about it before they got very far.
Wraith tilted his head to the side, Grian hated how it felt like the man could see right through his soul, could discern all of his secrets with nothing more than a glance.
“But I’d be willing to bet that’s the first time you’ve used it in a while.”
Grian scoffed, “it’s invasive.”
To his surprise, Wraith winced, “yeah.” he agreed quietly, “it is.”
He didn’t try to argue or defend or say Grian was wrong.
“But it can also be useful.” Firefly spoke up, and when Grian turned he saw that the man was still sitting cross-legged, still upholding his promise.
“Of course you’d defend him.” Grian spat.
“And,” Firefly continued, undeterred, “sometimes you must be invasive in order to survive, and that’s okay.”
Grian felt as if he’d been knocked out and had awoken in another timeline. Surely that had to be what happened because Firefly was defending him.
He took another step back. Breathing heavily, “No one is supposed to know about it.”
“Then we won’t tell.” Gargoyle said easily. And then he pulled down his collar, exposing the skin on his neck, “It requires skin contact right? You can check if I’m lying.”
Grian stared at the pale line of skin, standing out sharply against the black of his suit. “I’m going to hold you still.” he said quietly.
“If that’s what you need to do.” Gargoyle agreed, and somehow when Grian allowed the strings to grow taut, it felt a little easier.
His fingers brushed lightly against Gargoyle’s neck, so vulnerable and defenseless at this moment. Grian could’ve taken his own axe and cut his neck off with it, he was sure Gargoyle knew the risk, and yet, here he was.
Here they were.
He wasn’t lying. Grian pulled his hand away and walked back, only letting the strings go limp once he felt he was a safe enough distance away.
It still felt too good to be true, it still felt like there was an ulterior motive, like if Grian allowed himself to grow too compliant they would sneak up on him and suddenly he’d be back.
He couldn’t go back.
“What’s the catch?” He demanded.
Why were they suddenly being so nice? Why were they trying to be his friend?
“Come home with us.” Wraith blurted, almost immediately after Grian asked the question, as if he couldn’t physically hold it back any longer.
He looked at the man, tensing again, the strings curled eagerly at his fingertips, but he refrained from using them just yet, “what?”
“Only if you want to.” he added quickly, “and if you don’t then we won’t force you or blackmail you or anything.”
He quieted for a moment, and Grian watched his chest rise as he took a deep breath and then fall slowly as he let it out, a stark contrast to the constant heaving of his own.
“But I know that Gargoyle did a number on you and while you’re somehow still standing I can see the way you favor one leg over the other.”
Maybe it was because Grian was still so deeply honed in on Gargoyle’s movements, maybe the strings had a taste and they were desperate for more, but Grian felt him flinch, a full body flinch that had him turning his head to the other.
“Please.” Gargoyle said, sounding apologetic and almost timid, “let me make it up to you.”
Before he could think better of it, Grian stomped up to Wraith, kneeling down in front of him. “Where do you keep the key?”
“In the left most pocket of my belt, it requires a finger scan.” he replied, unable to fully keep the surprise, the relief? from his voice.
“Hold out your hands.” Grian ordered, unbuckling the belt from around his waist.
Wraith dutifully held out his hands, and Grian carefully held the belt up so that he could press his finger down on the scan. It flashed green and the pocket opened, revealing a thin shiny purple key.
Grian took it out, holding it gingerly in his hand, “how do I unlock them?”
“There’s a keyhole in the middle connecting part.” Wraith explained, holding his hands up so that Grian could see it, “Stick the key all the way in until you hear a click, turn it right twice and then left once.”
Grian held Wraith’s wrists steady with one hand, and carefully followed his instructions with the other. The cuffs snapped open with a click and Grian let them fall to the ground as well as the key, not wanting to be physically near them any longer than he had to.
“My mask stays on,” he said quickly, “you don’t put a single thing on me unless I allow it, and don’t take a single thing off. I’m allowed to leave at any point and no one else comes in.”
“Deal.” Wraith said, so quickly it surprised him a little.
“Anything else?” Gargoyle asked softly, and Grian noted that he still hadn’t moved, a quick glance at Firefly showed that neither of them had.
Grian hesitated for a moment before steeling his nerve and adding, “all of you need to have a power cuff on one one of your wrists.” and after a moment he tacked on quietly, “and you two can move now.”
There was a soft clicking sound behind him and Grian turned to see Wraith hold up his wrist with the cuff hanging off it. In his other hand he held out the key, “so I can’t take it off unless you let me.”
Grian took it, carefully stashing it away in one of his belt pockets. He felt the others come closer and turned to see that they too had cuffs hanging from one of their wrists, keys held out toward him with their other hand.
Grian took them as well, and then just to be completely sure he grabbed Firefly lightly by the wrist, pulling his sleeve up the same way he’d done to Gargoyle not too long ago. “You won’t take the cuff off until I feel comfortable letting you.”
“We won’t.” Truth.
“You’ll abide by the conditions I set.”
“Yes.” Truth.
“If I think of any additional requests you will agree to them.”
Firefly hesitated before answering, “We will not do anything that would jeopardize your freedom or your identity.”
Truth.
For the first time since this encounter, Grian felt like he could breathe properly. His chest no longer heaved and he felt as if an adequate amount of air was coming to his lungs.
He took a proper, deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment and opening them as he exhaled and let go of Firefly’s wrist.
“Okay.” he whispered, “let’s go.”