Defrost my heart Part Twenty: Refusal to Bow Down

Lady Nitro:

Staring numbly at Goldheart’s corpse, the autopsy tools glinted in the lights. Extracting her blood, Goldenheart’s reaction replayed in my head. How could someone so close be so abusive? Then again, shit like that happened all the time. Chewing on my bottom lip, the answer rested in her blood. Cutting open her chest, blackened organs broke my heart. Frozen tears shattered next to her, my thumb rubbing the back of her hand. What made this powerful enemy a cracked doll? Father wandered in, frozen tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. Sinking into the chair in the corner of his room, a newspaper flickered in his hands incessantly. Fantastic, another horrible headline associated with my freaking name. What else is new, I thought venomously to myself.

“Normally, I would let you do what you want but I do have my limits. The press is having a party dragging your name through the mud.” He chastised me with a low growl in his voice, his tired eyes darting between her corpse and me. “Civilians don’t think like you or me. Hell, most minds don’t think like you. You are going to have to explain that he is a part of a rehabilitation program in a conference at three today. After that, we are following a lead on that specific type of poison. Yes, I said we. Seeing that poison tells me who we need to visit. Shit, that type of damage hasn’t confronted me in a long time. Time to make yourself not look like the villain. Although, the president is doing a damn good job at that.” Shooting him a death glare, his matching death glare shut me down. Press conferences had never been my strong suit, a twitch claiming my right eyebrow.

“If he were to go into a jail cell, someone would kill him within days. President D-bag is planning something and I don’t know what.” I shot back defensively, a stab in the wrong place spraying my face with coagulated blood. “When haven’t they dragged my name through the mud? Villain or hero? How many headlines along those lines have plagued my name? Yet, my dumb ass keeps getting royally injured to save them. I didn’t rob that damn store and everyone thinks I did!” Slamming my tools onto the table, both of us jumped into the air from the loud clangs.

“Shit like that follows me everywhere I go and no matter what I do, it doesn’t get erased!” I ranted freely, his expression softening. “Sure you got the charges cleared but haters still bring that up! My brother pulled that shit, not me! Time after time, I attempted to stop him!” Anger proved to be a normal emotion, a huff escaping my lips. Yet, people never freaking listened to me!

“I know that and they know that.” He assured me with a sympathetic furrow of his brow, his fingers untying his mask. “Let’s hit that noodle place and get those hot noodles you like after everything. People will see the real you eventually.” Fighting another wave of tears, that sentiment had sound footing. Truth be told, everyone was a villain in someone’s story. Closing her back up, ice spread across her body. One tap shattered her into beautiful shards of ice. Scraping them into a neat pile, an ice urn creaked to life in my palm. Dumping them into it, the clunk of the cover provided little to no relief. Lowering the urn into his gloved hands, a thin layer of ice glittered on his usual suit.

“Please take care of her for me. I have to make myself presentable for the stupid conference you doomed me to.” I joked sarcastically, his arms clutching the urn close to his chest. People really had multiple facets to themselves, I thought irately to myself. Stopping in the elevator, the dings barely registered. How does one sound nice when the wolves are the ones to bare their fangs? My old man would say kill them with kindness but not one cell in my body wanted to do that. Grinning sadistically underneath my mask, Emberox picked the frozen blood off of my face. Checking the time, I had a couple of hours before more character assassination.

“Can you try to be nice?” Emberox pleaded with me, our twins cooing away in his arms. “Most people like you. Supporters of the president think otherwise.” Cocking my brow in his direction, the sounds of school kept my angry thoughts at bay. Goldenheart wandered out of his room, his eyes flitting between the two of us. A pensive tension brewed between Emberox and me, Demonico and Infernox poking their heads out of their room.

“Think what you want but I am going to defend myself.” I snapped back hotly, a deep sorrow haunting my features. “All blame for the barrage of deaths is going to fall on me. Do they know how hard it is to get a damn sample to make a cure? Do they think that I like killing their loved ones? No fucking loves doing that! Today will be another day where I will be raked across the coals. Instead of behind my back, it will be to my damn face. Don’t tell me how to handle it!” The ferocity of the last sentence softened his expression into his loving gaze, his lips brushing against my forehead. A bit of color painted my cheeks, steam curling into the air. Excusing himself to deal with our little heroes, dread bubbled in my gut. Zoning out for a moment, a squeal from Goldenheart whipped me from my downward spiral.

“Give them hell if they deserve it.” He chuckled with a comforting smile, his fingers drumming on the table. “I happen to think you are amazing.” Smiling softly under my mask, such statements from him made it all worth it. Thanking him politely, his suit shimmered in the early afternoon rays. Sitting in painful silence until my old man gathered me, the elevator ride to his car screamed of agonizing awkwardness. Scratching the back of our necks together, our eyes refused to me. Ding after ding did little to swallow the tainted quiet, the doors grinding open. Trudging after him, neither of us knew what to say to each other. Sinking into our seats, slamming our doors did little to relieve our rising stress levels. The engine rumbled to life, my trembling hands clicking in my seat belt. Peeling out of the garage, grief wore on his features. Flecks of rage flashed for quick seconds, his hand patting my shoulder.

“Say what you are going to say. I am done being the nice guy for that bastard! He used my friend.” He spoke concisely, a chill running up my spine. “For too long, we have been following his rules. Don’t worry about the funding. A new donor has stepped up. She is as lovely as they come.” Scarlet flushed his cheeks, a twinkle shimmering in his eyes. Was this a new love? Curiosity killed the sharp edge of anxiety, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading underneath my mask. Happy to see his rebel side, our plan could move that much faster.

“A new love for my father, perhaps?” I teased playfully, his eyes rolling. Laughing together for the first time that day, bad emotions melted away. Asking him to tell me about the fun stories with Goldheart, his features visibly brightened. Engaging with him, his mood seemed lighter by the second. Personal trauma could be damned, his happiness mattering here and now. Pulling up behind the town hall, pristine marble towered over us. Armed men in black suits guided us to the front, a glass podium waiting for me. Taking my place, haughty reporters of all shapes and sizes snapping pictures of me. Stepping up to my side, his palm rested on my shoulder. Flashes blinded me, thousands of questions were being shot in my direction. Not one was nice, all of them pricking me in all the wrong ways. Breathing grew shallower by the second, over-stimulation draining any color from my skin. Ice crept up my legs, the glass podium creaking ominously underneath my strengthening grip. How the hell did he do this bullshit? So many voices, too many questions! Make it stop! Make it stop! People tripled, every heartbeat picking up speed.

“Shut up! None of you know what you are talking about!” I roared thunderously, shocked gasps causing me to panic internally. “Redemption is possible if no lives were taken. I refuse to not help them reap the rewards in being a hero. God damn it! Make up your mind! Villains would run this city if we didn’t do our jobs. Don’t you like being able to go to work or being able to send your children to school without as much as a second thought! Construction fixes the damage on the same day. The medic team heals the wounded within an hour, so please grant our team a bit of grace. Sorry for exploding on you. Have a nice afternoon.” Excusing myself, pride glittered in my old man’s eyes. His elbow hooked around mine, a weight having been lifted off of my chest. Whisking me away, chaos erupted with every click away from them. Breathing with my father for the first time the second the car granted us safety, his arms buried me in a bear hug. Wondering if I had done something wrong, words needed to be said to squash my concerns.

“Never let anyone squash your spirit again, including me.” He comforted me with his chin on my head, both of us quivering away. “Time to make the company what it should have always been.” Releasing me, our seat belts clicked at the same time. Tires squealed as he sped away from the scene of the crime, a snap of the radio button allowed chill alternative rock music the gentle quietness to feel that much more heavenly. Nice skyscrapers became the bad part of the city, anxiety returning to us with a vengeance. Parking behind a bar, down on their luck people milled in and out. Asking me to sit in the car, he didn’t have to ask me twice. Turning on my phone, a mixture of spiteful and sympathetic comments slapped me in my face under each video. Slamming my phone onto my lap, nothing could quell the frustration.

“Nice speech, Icy.” Omnivox joked while letting himself into the driver’s seat, a thick notebook bouncing off of his hand. “Mr. President isn’t too happy with either of you. Stay off of my back for a while in exchange for this lovely notebook of his plans. Au revoir, Icy!” Leaving as fast as he came, his bright jacket floated up with every step away from the car. Searching the book for a tracking chip, not one could be discovered. Neater handwriting spoke of a lack of drug usage, the memory of his face showing a much fresher appearance. Waiting patiently, my father sank into his seat with his own notebook. Exchanging odd looks, annoyed grunts escaped his lips.

“The original creator of the poison died but the predecessor is out there somewhere. This is that guy’s notebook. With this, we should be able to create a mass antidote for the prison. Do you think that you are up to the task, dear?” He inquired while boring into the one on my lap. “Who pulled through for you?” Hearing him sound human bemused me, my fingers untying my mask. Being around someone like me gifted me such a lovely freedom, his own clattering onto his lap. Donning matching smiles, good luck plopped its way onto our lap. It was about damn time in my opinion.

“Mr. Omni decided to give me a fair amount of information. Apparently, I may have given him the inspiration to break free.” I returned with a long sigh, hoping to bring life to my eyes. “That is what you get for blinding the hand that feeds you. Mr. President is a little annoyed with us. Let the games begin.” Laying the tattered notebook on top of mine, hours of working on a cure with him sounded like a blast.

“Making connections seems to be your strong suit. Press conferences could be considered a weak spot.” He pointed out simply, his finger tapping his chin. “I know I suggested your noodle place but would you like to eat at one of my favorite places?” Shooting him a thumbs up, curiosity drove me to open the ragged notebook. Flipping through the pages, messy handwriting characterized a crazed person. Not to mention, half the ingredients weren’t easy to come by.

“No offense, open arms aren’t there for me. They adore you, my dear father.” I shot back defensively, his eyes rolling. Master Elements was a beloved hero that everyone worshiped, many moments with my blunt attitude landing my dumb ass in hot water. Backing up, a short drive brought us to a small hole in the wall. Confusion raised my brows upon him pulling up to a Chinese food place. Tying on his mask, my quaking fingers did the same. Hopping out with him, a friendly elderly man in a nice navy suit greeted us. His slicked back gray hair glistened in the red paper lantern’s lights, dark eyes illuminating at the sight of us. Shouting out in Chinese to get a few dishes ready, his short body rushed around for us to put us in by the biggest window. Walking off gracefully, his wrinkles grew deeper with his big smile.

“Story time, pops.” I chuckled blithely, a cup of extremely spicy pepper tea getting down in front of us. “I have many but what is the connection here?” Untying his mask, a few sips had him melting into a puddle of pure serenity. Setting it down gingerly, his sharp eyes track the golden dragons flying along the scarlet walls. How peaceful of a place!

“A villain decided that he was going to rob his restaurant and I happened to be coming along. A few punches later and freezes around their feet, the jerks were in jail. He was pretty young and starting out. So was I.” He sighed jovially, his genuine smile making him look younger. “Friends we became. I come about once a month to chat with him. He tells me all about his family and all the funny stories. Loads of customers love his super spicy recipes. Fame is claimed from that alone. Do you want to start coming with me?” Touched by offer, a soft yes tumbled from my lips. Such a relationship matched the ones I cherished around the church and coffee shop, that sense of community keeping me sane. Pulling out the notebook from his jacket, a stunned expression haunted my features. When did he bring them in? Erasing it with an interested smirk, his steady hand removed my mask in the nick of time. Going over the information with me, nothing compared to spending time with my father. What a thought to think! Younger me would have never dreamed of being around my parents, all hope abandoning me in that dark mental space. Let’s not go back there again, I thought nervously to myself. Slamming the notebooks shut, heavenly food steamed in front of me. The family man took his seat next to us, my old man putting the notebooks away. Preparing me a plate, the two of them broke into a pleasant conversation. Listening to the funny stories, looks of concern often met my comforting smile. How lovely of him to invite me into this side of him. Devouring the best food I had ever had in my life, his taste buds weren’t wrong. Shifting the conversation into his family, the pictures never ended on my old man’s phone. Sharing photos lasted for hours, joyous frozen tears plopped into my palms. Sorrow claimed his heart for too long, real smiles joined genuine laughter. Finishing up the last of the food, a polite thank escaped our lips at the same time. Bowing in his direction, our steady hands tied our masks back on.

“What do you think?” He queried adorably, the rubber of his gloves groaning as he smoothed out his suit. “Isn’t he cool?” Nodding with fresh frozen tears in the corner of my eyes, frustration raged in my mind. Bad luck and sorrow didn’t need to haunt him, a crestfallen shimmer remaining in his eyes.

“Time will heal my wounds. Thank you for coming out with me today. I most certainly required a father-daughter day.” He gushed honestly, his hand cupping my cheek. “Never forget how much pride I feel for you. He got to meet the prodigal daughter I never shut up about. You will never disappoint me.” Helping me into the car, his words had me weeping uncontrollably. God damn it! A superhero is supposed to be strong, not a giant cry baby! Climbing in, another of his famous embraces had me sobbing into exhaustion weighed down on my muscles. My eyelids fluttered a couple of times, a rough slumber stealing me away.