Chapter Text
BREAKING NEWS: NUMBER OF MISSING PERSONS HAS INCREASED TO FOUR, AUTHORITIES SAY CASES ARE LINKED.
If you've been paying attention to the atmosphere in Hermiton over the past month, you'll be aware that the city has been getting more tense. Less people are visiting, and even less people are leaving their homes. What was once a lively, bustling city has now turned into a ghost town.
The cause? A new villain roaming the streets, known as the Creaking. Allegedly, this villain is the one responsible for the kidnappings of four Hermiton civilians, with it's ability to move without being detected. Authorities have said that they are working around the clock to catch this villain, but no arrests have been made. We at the Hermiton Herald advise that you stay in your homes unless it is absolutely necessary to leave (find more tips on how to stay safe in the city on page five).
Sources close to the Hermiton Police Department claim that the hero known as "Time Bomb", a person whose identity is still unknown, is working very closely on this case. As we do not know this person's identity, it calls their credentials into question, making us wonder if there is some link between the person running this investigation and the lack of results
We will be keeping you informed, but for now, keep yourself and your loved ones safe, and never travel alone.
In other news, Hermiton mayoral elections are next week, and if you read on, you can find an exclusive interview with our newest candidate-
Bdubs threw the newspaper in the trash, not wanting to read even more incorrect waffle. The article claimed that the Creaking was the one behind the disappearances, but really, they didn't know. Nobody knew. All they had were a few loose ends that seemed to point to disappearances happening at the same time Creaking sightings spiked.
It was all speculation at the moment, and these articles were just designed to spread fear and sell more copies. Even worse, they seemed to critique the case and the people who had been chosen to work on it, which really, was none of their business.
The last reported missing person was Fein Berg, a man who was last seen leaving his apartment two nights ago. His roommate reported him missing after he didn't come home, and further questioning had led Bdubs nowhere. He pinned Berg's face to the corkboard that hung proudly above his desk, once displaying his various achievements and sentimental photos, but all of that had been discarded in favour of this case. The four victim's faces stared at him, begging him to solve this mystery as soon as he could. He wanted to apologise, to tell them sorry, because their only hope wasn't good enough.
"You need to stop staring at that thing." His older brother — and coworker — Scar said, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he wheeled past him. "It won't help anyone."
"I know." Bdubs grumbled. "But I want to help. If I just find out who the Creaking is…"
Bdubs turned around to face Scar, who was nodding along, but his face betrayed his irritation. Scar had probably heard this spiel from Bdubs more than either of them would like to think about, and Bdubs could tell that Scar was getting tired of Bdubs feeling like he wasn't doing enough. "You're doing all you can. Remember to take breaks from time to time, Bdubs. Someone like you needs to be on your best game."
Bdubs huffed. "I know." He repeated, more forcefully this time. "You fuss too much"
"I just don't want you to get hurt."
"Pfft, I won't get hurt." Bdubs waved a hand dismissively.
Scar rolled his eyes. "I didn't think I'd get hurt either. And now you're doing my job because I did get hurt. You are not immune to pain, Bdubs, no matter how much you try to be."
"Whatever." Bdubs said, going quiet because Scar was getting just a bit too close to something that Bdubs didn't want to face yet. "I hear you're needed… Or something."
Scar muttered something as he left, and as much as Bdubs knew he meant well, he didn't need his overbearing brother telling him what to do. He knew how to handle his own, thank you very much.
Bdubs was a superhero, for crying out loud. He was the only person on the front lines battling the Creaking when he tried to attack. He was the person who got the closest to the Creaking on a daily basis. If Bdubs didn't know what he was doing, how come he'd never gotten hurt in action? Except for maybe one or two times, but those didn't even count. Even when he wasn't being a hero, he still worked in law enforcement. His cover job was literally a detective! Bdubs knew what he was doing, and he was tired of Scar acting like he didn't.
It had been years since Scar had retired from being a hero, and decided to work for the HPD full time. It wasn't his fault; he'd gotten trapped under some rubble, rendering his legs useless, meaning he'd have to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. Still, Bdubs felt as if he was lacking some of the perspective that Bdubs had, meaning that he behaved, well, a little overprotective. What happened with Scar was an accident, one that Bdubs wasn't silly enough to repeat.
It wasn't like he'd ever get trapped under falling rubble anyway; Bdubs' power was the ability to manipulate time, so if he ended up in a situation like that, he'd just slow time and run to safety. His power was one that he wished he could use more often, but every time he used it, he'd suffer a fatigue unlike anything else the next day. He'd sleep for hours, and when he did wake up, he'd barely be able to leave his bed. A small price to pay, he told himself, for protecting the people of Hermiton.
He looked back up at the corkboard, at the seemingly disconnected faces who had all vanished. Where had they gone? Were they still alive, banking on someone like Bdubs to save them from whatever hell they were trapped in? Or were they already dead, and it was too late?
Scar was right. Looking at the corkboard wouldn't do anything to bring these people back. Bdubs decided that he could, instead, make himself useful by flicking through the CCTV footage of the day Fein went missing. It was late at night when it had happened, on a busy street too. One moment, Fein was there, walking down the road that his apartment was on, looking in a shop as he passed. The next, he was caught stumbling into a back alley, almost like he'd been pushed. Then, nothing.
Ten minutes later, the Creaking made a wider appearance, glowing eyes and masked face looking up at the camera and grinning. Bdubs watched as he swept in to save the day, taking note of the fleeing citizens, the poor innocents who had been caught in the crossfire of a fight that was never supposed to be theirs. He saw himself zipping from place to place, as the Creaking did similar, both of them never successfully landing their hits. Bdubs' movements were getting sloppier, though, which he chalked down to stress thanks to this whole case. When, on the footage, one of the Creaking's summoned minions landed a punch to his arm, the bruise it had left spiked in pain, as if the video reminded Bdubs' brain that the injury existed.
The Creaking's minions had always scared Bdubs. They looked almost human, faces a sickly pale colour, vines criss-crossing up their arms as their jaws hung open, eyes glowing the same yellow as the Creaking's. It was like they were mindless zombies, serving only to hurt.
The fight sped up, both Bdubs and the Creaking nothing more than a blur on the screen, and Bdubs turned the screen off, not wanting to see what followed.
He remembered it, though. Remembered falling to his knees as another minion hit him in the leg, just how slow everything else had felt when he'd tried to get up, the exhaustion from his powers slowly setting in as he tried his hardest to get closer to the Creaking, to get a closer look at what was behind the grey wooden mask on his face, what lay beyond the pale moss that had infected his finger tips.
Scar had alerted the authorities about the fight, and as soon as Bdubs became too weak to carry on, they took his place, going in guns blazing. The Creaking disappeared not long after.
He hadn't known, then, that he was ten minutes off of witnessing what had happened to that missing person. He hadn't even known that the person existed. But they were somewhere, on that street, during that fight.
If only Bdubs hadn't spent the rest of the day recovering, he could've been able to go back and figure out what had happened to the civilian. What had happened to all of them.
He rubbed his eyes, realising that he had been overworking himself far too much, and that he had a boyfriend that he'd been neglecting this entire time. He checked his phone, staring at the messages that he'd ignored a few hours back, swearing that he'd respond to them soon. Where had that time gone?
BigB:
You alright?
I know work's been getting you down lately
Wanna come to mine later?
I know you couldn't make it to our date yesterday but can't you free yourself up for one evening?
Guilt gnawed at his gut as he stared at the messages. BigB didn't know he was a superhero. The only people who knew were his bosses, and Scar. They were the only people who needed to know. And, while he hadn't signed anything officially, he'd been advised not to tell anyone of his identity, lest the wrong person find out, and he lose his job.
Meaning that, as much as it pained him, BigB couldn't know about his job. Even worse, BigB couldn't know that the reason he'd been stood up yesterday was because he'd been sleeping off the after effects of his power.
He thought about it for another moment, and then typed back a response:
id be more than happy to.
i love you
Bdubs showed up at BigB's apartment with a sad bouquet of orange flowers he'd found at a nearby grocery store, a sheepish grin on his face as BigB opened the door.
"Hey." He said apprehensively, mentally preparing himself for a telling-off. One that he absolutely deserved, but one that he would much rather avoid.
BigB grinned at the sight of the flowers, and took them off of Bdubs, inspecting them closely. "So, flowers, huh? That's how you plan on getting back into my good books?" His tone was lighthearted, but Bdubs wasn't fooled. BigB was mad, and only barely containing it.
"Well, I could only get the best for you." Bdubs said, as BigB raised an eyebrow, gaze flitting between the bouquet and Bdubs.
"And your best is-" BigB checked the price tag, something that Bdubs now wished he'd removed- "five dollars? Wow. I feel so loved."
Bdubs took the flowers back off of him with a huff. "Fine! I'll take my love elsewhere if you'll be so stuck up about this!"
He turned his back to leave, feeling a triumphant smirk creep onto his face as BigB wrapped his arms around Bdubs waist. "Not so fast. I want my flowers."
BigB was still mad at him, but he'd conceded this battle to Bdubs, who leant into the touch, and let BigB kiss his cheek, steal the flowers back, and begin to put them in a vase. There was still a war ongoing, but for now, Bdubs would enjoy this moment of victory.
"Hey, I can do that." Bdubs huffed, pushing past BigB and trying to get in his way, filling the vase up with water before BigB had the chance to. "It's my gift."
"Then they're my flowers." BigB said smugly. "I can do whatever I want with them."
Bdubs took the flowers off of him, and placed them in the vase. "Too late."
They laughed, and BigB dragged him to his couch. "You stood me up yesterday." He said, voice growing colder. It wasn't a question.
"I did." Bdubs swallowed nervously. "And I am so sorry."
"I also saw that a new person was found missing. How close are you to finding him?" Bdubs knew what that meant: was it worth it? Was avoiding their date in favour of working on this case, worth it?
Bdubs hung his head in shame. "Not as close as we'd like. I- I saw that Time Bomb and the Creaking fought right after." He cursed himself internally for the slip up, but he knew by now that BigB wouldn't notice. They'd been dating for what? A few months now? And still, BigB had no idea of the double life his partner was leading. "So we can link the Creaking directly to the crime scene this time. But that isn't enough for an arrest, even if we found out who he was."
BigB thought about that for a minute, and Bdubs hoped beyond anything that he was drawing conclusions that didn't exist, that Bdubs had spent all of yesterday analysing the crime instead of passed out in bed. "Is it true you're working with Time Bomb?"
"I don't know." The lie came to Bdubs easily. His job was closely linked with the hero — a lot closer than most people assumed — so he'd had years of people asking him about Time Bomb, but he'd learned to say that only the higher ups knew his real identity. Which was true. "If he is, then we haven't been told. It doesn't matter anyway, my team are all great."
Looking surprised, BigB asked: "Wait, I thought I heard that he wasn't qualified? There's nobody on your team that's new?"
"You've been reading the Hermiton Herald too much, BigB. I promise that everyone on my team has earned their right to be there, otherwise they wouldn't be the ones working on the most important case in the city." If his voice was too harsh, he didn't care. He was sick of people not getting the right idea about himself; even if people didn't know he was Time Bomb, he still felt hurt, and wanted to defend himself.
"You sure?" BigB asked.
"Yes." Bdubs snapped, turning on the TV and internally groaning when it was just a replay of the muddy CCTV footage he'd watched earlier. He felt the bruise on his arm throb again, and went to change the channel.
When BigB took the remote off of him, and turned the volume up, he wanted to protest, but then he remembered that this case was new to BigB. He hadn't lived this footage, hadn't replayed it over and over while beating himself up about how sloppy he was being, so Bdubs let him watch. As he did so, he caught BigB pulling his sleeves down his arms, a habit he did every time he was nervous.
Taking BigB's hand in his, Bdubs gave him a small smile, trying to ease the small frown on BigB's face. "It's fine. This whole thing will pass soon, ok?"
"I know. Time Bomb knows what he's doing, Bdubs."
But Time Bomb didn't feel like he knew what he was doing, wincing as he watched himself get hit. Again.