Of Heroes And Villains: The Ties That Bind An assassin. A fallen hero. An unlikely meeting. The road to redemption is long and hard and filled with explosives.

“That would work better if you took the cuff off.”

PsyKick jumped, startled, and raised his head, his hand instantly reaching to clutch the metal band around his wrist. He could never take it off; he couldn’t be trusted with power.

Kara was gazing down at him, an eyebrow arched. Her gaze dropped to the phone in his hand, and then back to him.

“I mean, you’re free to keep trying to dial it by staring really hard, but I doubt it will work.”

He just averted his gaze, chagrined that she’d caught him.

Mistress Diane left for work every single day, leaving him alone with Kara, whose identity continued to elude PsyKick, just as social competence continued to elude her. Sometimes it felt like they were almost friends, but then she’d go inexplicably cold on him.

He thought he might actually grow to like the aloof heroine, if he didn’t get the strong vibe that she didn’t like him. PsyKick had the distinct feeling of being tolerated for his Mistress’ sake.

PsyKick wasn’t even trying not to call her Mistress anymore. It made Kara’s eye twitch, and some immature part of him reveled in pissing her off just so she’d show him a face other than pity. The knowledge that he was being a burden chafed at him, doing nothing to help his frayed temper.

“I wasn’t trying to dial anyone,” he murmured under his breath.

He’d dialed the number 20 minutes ago and still couldn’t bring himself to press the final button.

What was there to say?

Hi, Tex, how have you been, by the way, I’m only moderately crazy now, let’s hang out. Sorry for the things I said. Meet you at the E?

The last time he’d seen Tex, his friend had been sitting at his bedside, trying to talk to him as if he was still Stephen. And PsyKick had begged the hero to help him escape this prison, trying to explain how his Purpose was getting worse, how he needed to Serve before it eroded everything. And when Tex had refused, as he always did, PsyKick had snapped.

To be psychic was to know one’s friends intimately well.

And to know which words inflicted the most damage.

He wasn’t sure how long ago exactly that had been. Time blurred together in that hospital room, endless days of staring at nothing while his Purpose gnawed away the tattered shreds of his sanity.

PsyKick thought it had to be months. Maybe a year, even. It felt like a really long time.

Tex had lasted the longest. The others had stopped visiting long before that.

“I see,” Kara said. Then she leaned forward and picked up the phone. “Then I guess you won’t mind if I do this?”

She hit the dial button.

His eyes went wide and he lunged, but she evaded skillfully, holding up the phone while the dial tone rang out. “Stop,” he snarled and she gave him a long look. Then she threw the phone back to him.

“Just follow your heart. Call your boyfriend. I can’t take this pining anymore.”

“Fuck off, Kara.” The skin on the back of his neck was burning and he was about to slam the red button to hang up when an automated female voice faintly rang out.

“The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service.”

He blinked down at the small device, numb.

What?

He stared for a long moment, and then redialed, the woman standing beside him forgotten.

“The number you are trying to reach…”

With shaking fingers he dialed Constance’s number.

“The number…”

PsyKick threw the phone against the wall. It shattered on impact.

Silence reigned for an agonizingly long time.

“I’m sure I could get you Tex’ contact info from the hero network,” Kara said hesitantly. Her voice was gentle and soft in a way he had never heard it before.

“…no.”

Long pause.

“Three years.”

She said nothing, and he ran his fingers through his black hair.

“People move on. I don’t even know why I’m surprised.”

That number had still been listed as his emergency contact. PsyKick had seen it when he’d signed the release form.

Tex hadn’t bothered keeping it up to date.

PsyKick could have died in that hospital, or escaped, or been cured and released, and Tex didn’t even care to be informed of that.

Kara was still gazing at him, seemingly struggling with what to say.

So he broke the tense silence.

“…I’m sorry I broke your phone.”

“Yes, however shall I afford a new one?” Her customary dryness was back, and yet, her voice retained its newfound warmth. There was a long pause once more. “…I’m terrible at this,” she admitted. “Do you drink scotch?”

His brows furrowed. “No.”

“You do now.”

And then Kara disappeared in a swirl of shadows. A swirl PsyKick recognized. His eyes widened with realization.

She – he? A stunned part of his mind asked – returned moments later, holding a decanter and two glasses, calmly setting them on the table while PsyKick stared.

Shade silently poured them two glasses.

Then she held one out to him.

He took it, and kept staring.

She sighed. “Magical accident.”

“Right.”

Silence.

“I really feel like this whole guessing game was rigged.”

She smirked, pale blue eyes meeting his as she took a sip. “You were the one who wanted to guess.”

And PsyKick laughed. A chuckle at first, escalating into deep, reverberating laughter.

So this was his life.

He was clinically insane, had villainous urges, was voluntarily depowered, wanted nothing more than to be someone’s slave, had destroyed every friendship he ever had and was now drinking scotch with an obscenely wealthy Shade. Who was a woman.

Shade, of all people.

PsyKick had never liked Shade.

In fact, he was almost singlehandedly responsible for nobody in his team liking him either. When Dawn had first dragged her new boyfriend to their supergroup meeting, PsyKick had felt nauseous at the sight. To his eyes, Shade had been a highly strung mess of seething hatred, rage and confusion. Just being in his vicinity had given PsyKick a tension headache.

Shade’s love for Dawn had been genuine enough. A red glowing band wrapped tightly around PsyKick’s friend, all but screaming mine at anyone who cared to look. It was the only positive connection to another human being that PsyKick had seen from him. Shade had looked at Dawn like he worshipped the ground she hovered over. Dawn had looked at Shade like he was a very nice man she’d just met and kind of liked.

Love like that could so very easily turn destructive.

PsyKick had made his disapproval known, and his evaluation of Shade’s mental state had trickled through to the rest of the Tenacious Teens, who all, to varying degrees, encouraged Dawn to break it off.

Nobody wanted their friend to date a ticking time bomb.

What finally broke them up, in a last straw sort of way, had given him and Tex endless hours of amusement. Dawn had confided it to Tex, who’d told it to Psy, which turned out to be a mistake since Dawn ended up blowing a fuse and chewing both of them out, making sure nobody else ever found out.

The brooding vigilante had a fetish for wearing woman’s underwear.

And now he was a woman.

Accident, yeah right.

PsyKick brought the scotch to his lips – only to end up coughing it all up as it burned his throat.

Shade, the bastard, looked amused.

“I wasn’t even the legal drinking age when I was locked up,” he said defensively, and her expression softened. A little. Her eyes were definitely still laughing at him.

“Then we have a lot of catching up to do.”


***


“…with a laser?”

Shade nodded, lips curled into a wide grin.

“Let’s just say Fusion Flare walked a little bowlegged after that.”


***


“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true.”

“You are making this up.”

“I swear.”

“There is no way you and Captain Patriot are friends.”

Shade chuckled softly. “It was an accident.”

“You’ve been having a lot of accidents.”

She precariously balanced her scotch glass on one finger. “I’m clumsy.”

“Admit it; you’re some sort of Good Twin cloned from an Alternate Dimension, aren’t you?”


***


“I’m sorry I dialed the number.”

PsyKick squirmed uncomfortably. “It’s okay.”

“No, I was an ass.” She exhaled and stared at the ceiling. “My least favorite day of the month is coming up tomorrow; it puts me in a bad mood.”

“I do not need to hear about your PMS, man.”

She blushed. Shade was blushing. “Not that! Corporate meeting!”

“Oh.”


***


“Okay, man, I have been wondering this for over five years, and I just have to ask…”

PsyKick peered at Shade over his glass, her outline slightly blurred.

“What are you?”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Ethnicity-wise.”

Ah. He got that question a lot.

PsyKick had olive skin and black curly hair, currently barely curled at all since it was too short. His jaw was square and his nose aquiline, yet his brown eyes were subtly slanted. Overall, he was a tan blend that could pass for a lot of ethnicities if one squinted, and had confused many a bigot who wasn’t sure what stereotype to apply. Tex affectionately called him Hispasian, though it was likely he had some Native American ancestry as well, given his almost complete lack of body hair. Overall, women found him handsome, so he was fairly happy with his looks.

Granted, somewhat less so these days. After three years of extremely limited physical exercise he was leaning toward skinny twig, though he had started regaining some of his old muscle mass.

“Dunno,” he answered truthfully. “I was raised in foster care.”

And that was also why he bore the generic name of Smith. He vaguely remembered having some unresolved issues regarding his heritage. It was a common occurrence for children anonymously given up for adoption, but not even knowing his origins had given him a very special case of adolescent angst.

PsyKick would give anything to trade his current identity crisis back to that one.

Shade hummed thoughtfully.

“I’m an orphan, too.”

“…with a mansion.” PsyKick had left foster care with not a cent to his name. He’d spent his spring break working two jobs just to be able to afford basic necessities over the semester.

“With a mansion.”

“You’re bad at bonding, you know that?”

She laughed softly and refilled.

“I get better with more alcohol. It’s how I make all my friends. All being one. Sample size needs some work.”

PsyKick smiled sympathetically, and raised his glass to toast to her.


***


Shade was right. She really was a lot more pleasant to be around once she relaxed.

“Kara?” PsyKick slurred.

“Mhmmm?”

“Make it two.”

---

Author's Note: You guys are THE BEST! Thank you for the kind words of encouragement, I had a huge smile on my face yesterday all day long. I know there's a bit of a tonal switch from oHaV to tTtB, and along with the protagonist change I was a little worried I'd alienated some readers. I'm superglad to hear that appears to not be the case, and I hope you'll continue to enjoy the chapters to come! And yes, I promise the actual plot starts Soon (TM).