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

Tex swore, using a word that was entirely inappropriate in the presence of a lady.

“Sor–“

“Do not say sorry, Mark, my delicate lady ears can handle a naughty word.” Despite the automatic response, she was frowning hard at the message on her wrist. “In fact, I’m inclined to repeat it.”

All around them heroes were stirring restlessly, some already disappearing in various forms of teleportation.

Dawn spread her wings wide.

“Are you coming?”

Tex, lacking a power that could be used for quick travel, briefly had the mental image of being carried by her, and grimaced. Then he shook his head, touching a hand to his bruised ribs.

“Not really in the shape for fighting.” He’d foiled a bank robbery yesterday, but his injuries were not severe enough to get him the attention of a healer who, like the precious resource they were, were rationed, even though their services were free for heroes injured in the line of duty.

Well, there was one healer who did not seem to have to pace her healing at all, but it would be a cold day in hell before he ever voluntarily sought her out. A few days’ worth of downtime wasn’t the end of the world.

Dawn nodded. “Lots of heroes on the scene already, so we probably aren’t needed anyway…”

He rolled his eyes. “Dawn, go. I know you want to, and I ain’t gonna let you stay on account of me.”

She smiled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. Then, with a beat of her beautiful wings, she was gone, likely already accelerating to hit the sonic barrier somewhere above Paragon.

Tex was one of only a handful of heroes who remained.

After a few minutes of idling and checking to see if it was anyone he knew, he determined that they were the heroes below Level Five who had the good sense to stay away from villains escaping The Asylum.

He absently accepted a glass of champagne from a white-haired waiter.


***


Caroline stared at her brother, who was gazing at her with the most emotionless expression she had ever seen. She had seen the exact moment Ian had realized who she was, had seen surprise and pain flit across his face, before he’d instantly smoothed his features into this cold mask that reminded her of their father.

She crossed her arms, feeling smaller than she ever had in her entire life, but forced herself to speak anyway, her voice as stoic as his expression, “I thought we should… talk.”

“Talk,” he repeated flatly and his harsh tone cut like a knife. “Yes, let’s.”

And then he just turned away from her, striding toward the hallway and expecting her to follow as if she was some sort of dog he was calling to heel.

Your sibling loves you.

She swallowed her pride and trailed after him, hoping, trusting that Stephen hadn’t lied to her, even though she saw nothing in Ian’s demeanor that even hinted at affection.

And he was wearing that illusion.

But she had to trust that this really was her brother, too.

He ducked into an empty room and as soon as Caroline crossed the threshold, he slammed the door shut behind her.

They were alone.

Just them and the silence as they gazed at one another.

“How did you get your body back?”

“Stephen and I came to an… arrangement,” she answered, deciding it was not the appropriate moment to mention that she had seduced his friend.

“After you almost tortured him?” he bit out.

“Yes,” she said miserably. “After.”

Ian said nothing and started pacing the length of the room, not even looking at her anymore.

When it became apparent that he was not going to initiate conversation again, she haltingly said, “I missed you.”

He stopped.

“When?”

She blinked, taken aback, and he turned to face her fully with narrowed eyes and finally, finally there was any sort of emotion except it was anger twisting his handsome face.

“I… always.”

“So where were you?” She flinched at the sudden roar.

Then Caroline steeled herself, straightening her back. “I was busy killing people.” He looked dumbfounded and she laughed, the sound hollow. “Did you want someone like that in your life?”

He didn’t answer, so she continued.

“The moment I could come back to see you, I did. And then you were… you were this adult, this whole grown-up person with your own life and friends and whatever it is you do, and what, what could I possibly offer you except pain and death and a target on your back?” She exhaled, wiped at her eyes, and cut off the stupid word stream that was spilling from her lips.

“You…” Ian’s voice cracked. “You fucking idiot.”

Caroline closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry, a fine white mist gathering around her feet, but a hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked her back.

“What did you have to offer me? You are my sister, Caroline, what more would I have needed?” His voice was raw and hurt and she cracked open one eye to see his blurred face. “Do you think I didn’t mourn you? Do you think I didn’t think about you every single fucking day? Do you have any…” His voice broke. “…any idea how alone I was without you?”

Ian sank to his knees and pressed his forehead to her abdomen, breathing heavily while he wrapped his arms around her waist. For a moment she just stood there, frozen, and then Caroline tentatively reached out. He let out a shuddering breath when she stroked his surprisingly soft hair.

They didn’t say anything for a while.

Ian broke the silence.

“So what I’m saying is,” he said, voice muffled. “…in my own terrible way with words, is that I missed you, too.”

Caroline laughed breathlessly.

Then she tried to lean down to hug him back properly, but that made him scramble away, breathing heavily as he stared at her with wide, red-rimmed eyes.

“I don’t understand,” she said, keeping her voice as even as possible.

“I…” He wrapped his arms around his chest, gazing down at himself. “I’m not… what I look like.”

“Okay,” she said slowly as her sisterly instincts reared their head. If he was a hero, maybe he’d gotten injured in some terrible way and that was why he wore the illusion. Was he scarred? Maimed? Horrifically mutated? It had to be something she’d be able to feel if she hugged him. “What do you look like then?” Her voice was soothing and gentle even though her mind conjured up image after image, each more terrible than the last.

“Do you remember…” He cleared his throat and averted his gaze. “Do you remember when you caught me in your room before… Before.”

Caroline remembered.

It was hard to forget the last time she’d seen him.


Tires screeched to a halt on the gravel, and Caroline hopped out of the car to gaze up at the mansion she rarely had occasion to visit these days. She grinned wildly, reaching into her pocket to trace the outline of the two tickets she’d managed to score, and pushed open the heavy oak doors. She couldn’t wait to see the look of surprise on Ian’s face when she presented him with her prize.

College kept her very busy, so this would be the perfect opportunity to make up for lost time. She was not above bribing her way back into his affection with his favorite band.

Caroline made her way up the stairs to their wing, calling out his name when she reached the top of the staircase. She could hear hurried footsteps in response, but they were coming from the wrong direction. Caroline frowned and turned right instead of left.

Then Ian slammed into her, nearly knocking the air from her lungs.

She stumbled back, and he caught her, looking panicked at the thought of having hurt her. Caroline shook her head to clear it, and frowned at him.

Huh.

She had to frown up.

Sometimes she forgot that he was taller than her these days.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” he mumbled, shame-faced.

“It’s fine.” She peeked over his shoulder. Behind him, she saw the door to her room slightly ajar. “Were you in my room?”

“No!” His answer was instant and vehement.

“…I can see the door open.”

“I wasn’t! What are you even doing here?”

She bristled at his tone.

“Last I checked, this is still my home, you know. Seriously though, what were you doing in my room?”

Ian sputtered. “I’m not… I wasn’t… this isn’t any of your business!”

“My room, Ian. That makes it my business.”

He shook his head and it was plain to see that something was stressing him out, so she made her voice gentle and soothing, reaching to brush a stray strand of hair from his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said through gritted teeth and swatted her hand away. She quietly withdrew it. There was a time, not long ago, when he would come to her with everything. Fucking puberty, ruining everything ever. She’d been patient, but the rift between them was getting unbearable.

“Are you done interrogating me for walking through the halls?”

“…yeah.”

He pushed past her and didn’t look back, ignoring her until she left.

She never did give him those tickets.


“…I really was in your room that day.”

“No way,” she breathed at the revelation, and he laughed weakly.

“I was, um.” Ian averted his gaze, and then reached under his collar, pulling out a small red pendant on a silver chain. His voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear it. “I was trying on...”

And that was when they heard a scream.