October 8, 1940. Minutemen Headquarters, Eddie.
I hadn't seen Eddie since he stumbled out of the pool room, leaving Sally bleeding on the floor behind him. Which may or may not have been a good thing, because I might have just killed him, regardless of his injuries. I wasn't given to attacking a man when he was down, but I would have made an exception, just for Eddie.
I got back from patrol late ( Read more... )
Comments 37
I let out a quiet growl around my cigar, looking out the window. Fucking hell I’m bored. I touch my broken nose idly, the resulting pain providing some momentary distraction from the utter stillness of the night. I'm too absorbed in the pain to look when the door creeks, but the sounds of my name pulls my eyes away from the neon lit city.
Mason.
Well, shit. Maybe the night won’t be a total drag after all.
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"I should throw you through that window." I snarled quietly, letting my mask drop to the floor. All I can think of was Sally, the bruises along her ribs, her face...and Eddie, smirking. I couldn't breathe, like my ribs were broken again, like after he and I had sparred and I couldn't even speak for pain. This felt the same, as if no time had passed.
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My chest, face, and arms still ache from HJ, but I flex my hands, knuckles cracking, regardless.
“Little late for heroics, Mason. Damsel no longer in distress. Throwing me out the window won’t get you any applause now.”
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"Not about applause. Never was for me." I said quietly. "It's about doing the right thing..."
I paused for a moment, mimicking him, flexing my hands inside their gloves before saying, "About doing the right thing for Sally. What she can't do, because you beat her half to death when she told you no."
I looked up, meeting his eyes. I couldn't tell what I saw, if I was being objective or not. All I could think of was him standing over Sally, and wishing Hooded Justice had beaten him into an oily pulp.
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I never claimed to be smart or wise, however. The Nite Owl still had idealistic fantasies of who we are and what we do. He was clinging to one of them now in order to not beat the living hell out of a man who he clearly thought deserved it. I want badly to see him lose that grip and come crashing down to the same level as the rest of us. I’m not expecting some big, damning revelation like I got out of HJ, but knowing how his hands would shake after he came to his senses, realized what he’d done and why, would be enough of a gag on the Owl for me.
“Mason, if you were man enough to take action you’d have fucked Sal’s brains out months ago and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Ain’t shit you can do to me.”
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"Don't dictate to me what a man would do. You're still a child." I said slowly, though I was shaking in anger. "A child who got told no, and threw a tantrum. You don't know anything about being a man, masked hero or no."
His hands were clutching the back of that chair, and I would bet a lot of money he'd break it over my head if I lunged at him. I shook my head quickly. Didn't matter. I wasn't going to fight him.
Maybe.
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I smirk slowly, tilting my head mockingly at him.
"Maybe so. But this kid got further with Sal on one day then you'll get in your whole damn life. I wonder which one of us will regret their actions more."
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I smirked at him, and added, "And don't count me out just yet, kid. You've ruined all your chances were Sally's concerned. And I've got plenty of time."
If he swung at me first, it would all be downhill. Maybe he was smart enough to control himself. Probably not, but maybe.
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Before his hand has the chance to fully fall back to his side, I haul up my fist and slug him straight across the jaw.
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I staggered back half a step before catching his wrist and flinging him across the room. He slammed into the bookshelf, knocking over Nelly's display. I pinned him against it by the throat, applying just enough pressure. A crazed jumble of memories from the academy flash through my mind, of practicing a dummy, and his skin was too warm beneath my hand. I was shaking, snarling incoherantly under my breath as I glared at him.
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It was hard to laugh with hand cutting off my air, but I made a hell of an attempt at it. Finally. Just needed to throw the match on the oil. I don’t bother fighting back, don’t even struggle, all my energy and air spent on the choked, uncontrollable laughter bubbling out of my throat, hands clenched into fists and hanging uselessly at my sides.
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"You're not worth the effort." I spat, and turned away from him.
(ooc: sally posted in the sparring thread, if you wanted a turn there before i went.)
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I brace my back against the wall, forcing my way back up slowly, progress slowed by my still hiccuping laugh the made my wrapped ribs burn in protest.
“Tell me, Owl,” I growl through a smirk, watching him starting to back from the room, “Ya talked to Sal since then?”
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"What's it to you?" I snarled back, abandoning my retreat. "What's it matter to you if I've talked to Sally since then?"
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"Just wonderin' if you're so angry over what I did, or that even after it she's still not pickin' you over me."
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"Do yourself a favor, Eddie." I spat, shaking with barely supressed rage. "And stop talking."
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If I left him here, Nelly'd be furious. And...I'd feel guiltier in the morning. I was already going to feel terrible.
"Jesus Christ, Eddie." I growled, and reached down to haul him up, supporting his weight as I staggered out of the room. "Even when you're not running that fat mouth you're a pain in the ass."
Thank god he was wearing street clothes. Undressing and re-dressing him would have been such a drag, and taken forever. I left him propped up against the wall while I changed into my own street clothes, and put my badge on my hip. Kept people from asking too many questions, especially the nosy nurses at the emergency room.
I lounged in the waiting room until one of the nurses told me my suspect was awake. I snickered, and walked over to hover in the doorway.
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