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“Why do you even do this?” the question and the tone it’s presented in bring both Snipe and Magnetico to a stand still
Around them are the bodies of several fallen gang members, though their affiliations have yet to be officially determined. The fight had lasted for only a few minutes but the toll had been heavy on the Heroes. Two dead civilian hostages and Snipe bleeding quite badly from his left arm where a blade Quirk had gotten the better of him. It’ll be a day or two at least before he’ll be able to use it properly again. They were both sweating, panting, spent messes. And here was a voice that sounded not only rested, but confident as Hell. Snipe dares to turn and lets his eyes widen under his mask. Long hair with beads, snake skin boots, fancy dark sunglasses, “Corruptor.” he manages to hiss out around his shock
“Yes, I heard that’s what everyone is calling me.” the man seems to puff up just the slightest bit, “Must say, I like the feel of it. So very...me.” he chuckles in a way that feels like warm liquid is being poured over Snipe’s eardrums
“Are you with this scum?” Magnetico asks as he moves to stand slightly in front of Snipe. The gesture is appreciated but Snipe doubts it will do very much good. It’s on record that the Corruptor is not only able to affect minds, he is also very strong and fast for some reason. And the only metallic thing Magnetico would be able to influence on the Villain’s body is a rather gaudy belt buckle.
“I was. But it seems they aren't as competent as I was led to believe. I’m sure you can relate given your line of work.” Snipe can feel those covered eyes shifting to inspect him, “Shame that backup you requested never arrived. What’s it been, 30 minutes since you called?” he makes a tutting sound and shrugs, “Though, that’s probably because your little sidekick never really called the Agency.”
“What have you done to Atomica!?” Magnetico shouts in panic. Snipe feels cold ice go up his spine. Atomica is only just turning 20. She’s young but ambitious and very talented. One of the only sidekicks Magnetico trusts enough to come out on missions like this. Had Corruptor really done something to her?
“Nothing. Simply watched from the shadows while she responded to your call and then promptly fled the scene. She is probably working with this lot and thought little enough of you that she also assumed you would die here. I wonder what her cut was going to be. Even a small percentage would have set her up for life so I suppose it doesn't really matter.” he laughs this time. A short but deep belly laugh that almost sounds like amused pride, “Heroes, always the first to fall.”
“You did that to her!” Magnetico shouts, his face red with rage, “It had to be you that made her do something like that!”
“I didn't even get a chance to talk to the young lady.” Corruptor points out with that still far too confident tone, “That’s how it works, is it not? Or does my lovely Police file not cover that part?”
“You’re lying!” Magnetico is shaking
“The file should have covered that too.” Corruptor’s smile turns a touch more sinister, “I don’t lie. Telling the truth is far more fun.”
“You...she...why would…” Magnetico brings his hands up and tangles his fingers in bright red hair
“Magnetico, get a grip!” Snipe tries to raise his guns but his wounds burn. His aim is shamefully shaky, “He’s trying to get in your head!”
“I’m not trying, I’m succeeding.” Corruptor leans forward slightly and grins wide enough to show off what could be fangs, “Because he knows it’s all his fault for not listening to her more. She’d come to him so many times, asking for raises and telling him about her mother’s sickness. But you brushed it off, didn't you Hero? Told her everything would be fine and that you would help until one day...it was too late to try.”
“That wasn't my fault!” Magnetico sounds frantic, he’s sweating
“We both know that’s a lie.” Corruptor straightens and no longer looks amused. Something glows red behind the sunglasses and that smooth voice now feels like knives instead of soothing liquid, “You were too greedy to help someone in your employ. And because of that you’ve lost a soul under your care. There is no going back for her now. She’ll probably sell all of your dirty little secrets to either the media or another gang of sorts. And the only thing she’ll regret is that you didn't die here like her mother died in that hospital bed. Bleeding and in a horrible amount of pain.”
“SHUT UP!” Magnetico shoots his hands out suddenly and Snipe watches in horror as several knives belonging to the downed criminals speed forward toward the unarmed villain
“NO!” Snipe does the only thing he can think of and tackles his mission partner. Doing something like that was way beyond overkill, even with the horrible realizations that had been brought to the surface. Lethal force would have to be punished with…
Snipe looked up from where he struggled with Magnetico and froze at what he saw. The wall before them was full of half sheathed blades. All gleaming and bright. There was no blood, and also no Corruptor. All that was left was a wall full of knives, a room full of unconscious criminals, and an emotionally shattered Hero.
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“Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
The voice is mocking and it makes Hizashi shiver. He is so fucked right now. Trapped in the middle of a literal Dump with no back up, a broken radio, and a wound to his throat that needed some serious attention. Now the asshole who had injured him was mocking Hizashi as well. It was obvious the villain was following the not-so-small trail of blood to Hizashi’s hiding spot in the trunk of some random junker car. It smelled like all the worst kinds of garbage and rust, and it would soon offer him no protection. Though, honestly, if the villain didn't find him first Hizashi would probably bleed out from his wounds. It would take a miracle to get out of this. He just hoped Shouta would forgive him for dying in such a disgraceful and inelegant way.
“Excuse me. I think the poor boy has had enough, don’t you?” an accented voice filled with a bit too much cheer for the atmosphere seemed to echo around the Dump
“What?!” Hizashi can hear the villain shuffling around, probably looking in all directions, “Who’s there!? Show yourself!”
“Not this moment I think.” The voice was so polite and had an almost bell-like quality to it, “You still haven't answered my question. Don’t you think Mr. Present Mic has had enough?”
The villain let out a boisterous laugh filled with insanity and rage, “No Hero has had enough until they’re dead! Always getting in the way when I just want to have a little fun!”
“From my perspective your version of fun might be a bit...extreme.” the voice sounds mildly disapproving, “There is this saying I heard a long time ago. It goes ‘You get back what you put out into the world’ or something like that.”
“What the fuck are you talking about!?” The villain sounds so close now. Hizashi is sure any moment he’ll be found and used to take this new rage out on in his final moments
“Just that the universe has a way of fixing itself. One might call them Miracles.” What follows is the sound of crunching glass, tearing metal, and a drawn out scream that ends suddenly. Before Hizashi can fully process all of that there is light shining down on him. The trunk is open, he’s exposed. And that lyrical voice calls down to him softly, “Come on out of there lad. Let’s get a proper look at you.”
Hizashi squints up into a pair of sky blue eyes. Firm hands grasp his shoulders and hoist him into a sitting position. Hizashi’s own grip on his neck falters and a pain filled gurgle that tastes too much like copper makes its way out.
“Oh my!” those blue eyes widen in mild shock, “That looks rather nasty.”
Hands reach for him again and suddenly Hizashi remembers this person is a stranger. He pulls away while trying to take in more visual details. White jacket, white shirt, white pants, blue eyes, and platinum blond curls. Hizashi blinked at the rosey cheeks, not truly believing the sight of them. He was distracted enough that the hands managed to grab hold of his wrists.
“Come now my boy. Let's have a look.” The grip was like iron, impossible to resist. Hizashi gurgled again as he felt the blood start to flow anew, “Ah, I see the problem now. Just try not to wiggle much. Your blood will flow faster.”
Hizashi did his best to scowl at that smiling face. Even as he did so the edges of his vision started to darken. He was going to die here, in a Dump, being held by some random weirdo who didn't seem to understand how urgent Hizashi’s situation was. And then…the darkness was lessening. Hizashi’s vision was clearing, if not his fatigue.
“Well now, not as bad as it looks.” the man says, still far too chipper, “A little bandaging and rest, you’ll be right as rain.” Those strong hands slide from Hizashi’s neck, moving to pick up the weak-limbed Hero. As he’s lifted out Hizashi catches sight of his former foe.
The villain is laying still, pinned and unconscious under a car that had clearly fallen off one of the many piles all around them. Hizashi wonders if his rescuer is responsible for that.
As if hearing his thoughts, the man holding him makes a click sound with his tongue and comments, “Terrible luck for that chap.”
That’s the last thing Hizashi hears before the exhaustion of the day causes him to pass out. He wakes in a hospital, Shouta glaring worryingly down at him. The man who saved him is gone, but left a name and address in case Hizashi wanted to make contact. He very much did.
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“They offered you a job?” Crowley asks with a raised eyebrow before sipping from the wineglass in his hand
“Yes. And I’ve been given an honorary Hero License as well. Seems saving all those wounded Heroes didn't go entirely unnoticed.” Aziraphale admits with a smile blush as he works the cork out of a new bottle of Merlot, “Even if they think my Quirk is basically dumb luck to the nth degree.”
“You watch yourself, Angel. That Hero Council lot is up to something nasty, I can smell it.” Crowley downed the last of his glass and held it out for a refill, “Suppose that means I should start making more permanent aquanintences. Keep my ears to the ground?”
“That would be marvelous darling. Very helpful.” Aziraphale says with a smile as he refills the demon’s glass
Crowley makes a choked hissing noise and buries his face behind his drink, “Whatever.”
“Well, suppose that’s me with an actual job.” Aziraphale looks blankly at the ceiling for a few moments, “They’re going to pay me, and give me insurance. And in exchange I shall do my best to mold the minds of the young.”
“Adam help them all.” Crowley ribbed gently before reaching out and dragging Aziraphale onto the couch next to him, “Now relax a little.” Crowley’s arm slowly snakes over the back of Aziraphale’s shoulders, making the Angel feel warm in his stomach, “Want to watch that new movie, the one with the fellow who looks like a wolf?”
“If you like.” Aziraphale let himself relax slightly more into the embrace of the Demon, already busy thinking about what books to assign his future classes.