The villain collided to the asphalt with a sickening crunch, what few people left on the streets quickly emptied them to feel safer behind locked doors. The menace of the city struggled to inhale, his wheezing breath rattling in his chest as he failed to lift his head. With a shaking hand he moved his mask to just above his nose, hoping it would help breathe. Sticky red dripped into his eyes, dark and thick. He coughed until there was no air to complete the function, and only blood came pouring from his chapped lips. He rolled to his side to prevent choking on it, and as he did so, he saw the hero, the moonlight a halo around the other man.
The villain smiled, revealing chipped teeth and bleeding gums. He would die tonight, and he knew it. “Fuck you,” He wheezed.
“I don’t want to kill you.” The hero’s voice was strong against the downpour of rain.
“Too late, Harv,” The villain laughed, and anyone who heard would forever hear that sound echo in their nightmares. It were as though the villain were gargling shattered glass. It would haunt the hero, who would later refer to it as ‘the dead man’s laugh’.
The hero was silent, he already knew he could not go back, but his mind was stuck on the name. “Who are you?” He demanded of the dying man who now lay again on his back.
“Find out,” The villain smirked. It wavered after he drew another agonizing breath. “I need you to remember this, Harv. No matter what. 4875 Vickery Lane.” He drew another sharp breath before coughing more blood, his eyes growing foggy with the panic of death’s arrival. “4875 Vickery Lane.”
“How-” The hero paled, feeling ice run over his spine while his skin became too hot.
“I love her,” The villain’s voice was far away, rough and nearly intelligible. His lungs shook with death’s rattle one final time before he succumbed to his mortality, his head falling slowly back so he could see the stars just one last time. “I always will. Kiera.”
The hero knelt next to the dead villain. He didn’t say a word as he lifted the mask. He looked away almost as soon as it came off, unable to stand the sight of the dead man.
The villain’s buzzed hair was a dark brown, a large gash over his forehead leaving streaks of blood across the face the hero knew too well. “Fuck,” The good guy muttered. “No, no, NO!!” He shot up into the air with a roar of anger, crashing back down a few feet away hard enough to break the asphalt beneath him. “Goddamnit,” He seethed, running a hand down his face. “You didn’t fucking-”
The hero laughed and sobbed, squatting down with his head between his knees. The rain pelted his caped back and he wondered how it felt to the dead man.
“You asshole,” He sobbed. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t mean to-” The man stood and turned back to the corpse, walking forward on legs that didn’t feel like his before dropping to hands and knees that didn’t function well. “I never wanted this!” He shouted like a mortal voice could reach the dead’s ears, as long as he was loud enough. “Please, don’t do this to me…”
The hero’s head fell to the villain’s shoulder as he sobbed, praying to every god that had a name. “Please…please, please!”
He stayed until he couldn’t take it anymore, until he broke into the sky, trying to chase down the villain’s soul, following him into the stars.
He shivered above the earth, ice starting to form in his wet eyes. He screamed in the one place no one, not even himself, could hear it. The hero went limp, falling back down to his planet, stopping just before hitting the ground. Tears fell from his forest green eyes, rolling down the yellow domino mask he wore. He screamed again in grief as he tore across the night sky to a little house in a run down neighborhood.
4875 Vickery Lane. It was blue, with chipping paint over the wood exterior. He hopped the fence around the yard easily before yanking the front door off it’s hinges. His heart twisted as the sound of a baby’s cry rang throughout the empty house. Paperwork was scattered everywhere, newspapers lining the walls, pinned up and connected in string. “Always a goddamn fire hazard,” The hero chuckled, running his hands down his face again as another wave of grief and guilt crashed over him.
He walked slowly, numbly, through the hallways, papers and takeout wrappers crumpling under his golden boots. Framed pictures he couldn’t bear to look at lined the walls, though he knew what each one held by heart. The good guy reached the door at the end of the hallway, the only clean door of the house, his hand shaking as it closed around the cool doorknob.
The man closed his eyes, taking a deep breath that trembled in his throat. He pushed the door open gently as the baby’s cries grew louder, desperate for someone to help the poor thing.
He cried quietly, shoulders shaking as he reached the crib. A small infant, barely three months old, squirmed inside, face twisted in sadness. Somehow, she knew. She must’ve known the moment it happened, maybe even the second the door shut behind her father, the villain.
No.
He was only a man.
A good man, despite what he became.
“Hey, Kiera.” The man’s voice shook as he picked up the baby. “Kurt…your dad, he wanted me to tell you that he loves you.”
His mask fell to the ground as the baby screamed in his arms.
“It’s…It’s okay. It’s ok, Keira. Uncle Harvey’s got you now.”
The cries quieted until it was only Harvey’s sobs left to fill the empty house.
“He’s not coming back. He’s never…and it’s my fault…I…”
He dropped to his knees, cradling the little girl.
“I’m sorry, Kiera. I’m so sorry…”
One day, maybe she’d forgive him.
But he would never- could never- forgive himself for killing his best friend.
“Uncle Harvey’s got you,” He whispered hoarsely to her. “I swear I always will. I’ll be there where I failed for him, I promise you.”
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