Post by Mitch 'The Broken' Heart on Dec 17, 2020 18:51:51 GMT -5
Hello Again.
OOC: Collab with Lab Rat King. Takes place almost directly after Penny Larceny, but you don't need to read that first to understand what's going on here.
“You’re sure you wanna do this.”
“Positive.”
“Okay. … I want you to stay back a ways, though.”
“So I don’t get eaten?”
“So you don’t run in trying to start a fight like Scrappy Doo.”
“I am not Scrappy Doo.”
“You’re too fuckin’ much like me, especially when you’ve got your damn dander up. Look. I know you don’t like this. And you hate when I say shit like this, but it’s true- this is a complicated situation. I’m trying to just… not.”
“Not what?”
“Be a fucking child. I mean, you are a child. You have that excuse. I don’t. When you grow up you gotta be big about shit you don’t like so you don’t ruin the relationships you have with people.”
Mitch Heart gave his little sister a tired smile and sighed, running one hand through his hair and wincing when his fingers grazed fresh stitches. He looked like a walking corpse- his skin was stark pale, his eyes had dark bags under them. He wore his jacket loose and open despite the chill because zipping it put too much pressure on his wounds, including deep, ugly-bruised bite marks.
Looking down at his phone, he cycled through his contacts until he found the name he was looking for. The one who’d done this to him, strange as it sounded. ‘King.’
Sighing, he shot out a text.
I’m here.
A beat passed, and then the lobby doors of the hotel slid open, a looming figure stepping outside.
The Lab Rat King, dressed in a hooded sweatshirt, immediately lacked the ferocious presence he usually exuded. There was a subtlety to the way he moved, an awareness of his size that wasn’t there before, and a gentle, thoughtful air to his eyes that was rare to surface. He looked back the way he’d come, where a slight woman sitting on the sofa behind the glass gave him a reassuring wave, and a little smile that reached her blue eyes. The mutant’s shoulders relaxed, and he turned to look at Mitch, his line of sight briefly darting around for the young girl accompanying him before returning to the bruised and battered man.
“Hey.”
He looked Mitch up and down, a flicker of concern in his face… and maybe guilt.
“Glad to see you’re on your feet, Heart Pounder.”
Mitch blinked, rubbing his head. This was… new. He was well used by now to having a tangle of wordplay shouted at him, which he would then have to translate. It was something he’d become rather good at. Something that nobody else seemed to think to do, dismissing what they heard as raving lunacy. This soft-spoken directness threw him for a loop, his brow furrowing.
“Well… yeah. Don’t really have a choice.”
His hands jammed into his hoodie pockets. He desperately wanted a cigarette but knew better- the last thing he wanted was to send the other man into a fit of coughing, gasping, and blood puke.
“...you look… fine.”
Of course he did- Mitch had seen it himself. King healed abnormally fast, thanks to that Karo-esque fast congealing blood of his.
“So, I heard about… I mean, I didn’t see it, but Sil mentioned…”
He glanced through the doors. There was a woman on the couch that seemed to be watching them- it must be the wife that he was told about. Grace.
“...that’s her, I guess. I’m… glad you found somebody you knew.”
King nodded, scratching the back of his neck. He glanced back again through the glass, taking reassurance.
“My wife.”
He spoke the words like he still couldn’t believe they were true.
“I’m about as fine as I can be… all things considered.” Though he didn’t look as much like he’d been hit by a truck as Mitch did, his sunken, bloodshot eyes gave away his exhaustion, and the breath he drew into his cavernous chest still rasped quietly as ever.
“It’s nice to finally be able to talk to you… not just the Big Guy, but… as myself. My whole self, I guess. I wanted to thank you.”
“I could talk to you just fine before. … So I guess you’d be the other guy then, kind of? You… he… said there was… shit, I don’t know.”
He groaned a bit, closing his eyes, fingers rubbing at his temples. This was a lot. Everything he thought he knew was different and his aching brain was struggling to keep up, like trying to run on ice with shoes made of glass.
“I’m sorry. I’m trying.”
A ways away, something behind a hedge moved, a small figure peeking from around the corner before darting back behind it with a swish of long sandy hair.
King’s eyes followed the motion, though they settled back on Mitch after a moment.
“You’ve already given me more patience and credit than just about anybody else around here,” King reassured him; his tone was so soft. It was hard to believe it came from the same throat as the raving maniac. “Most of them dismissed me as just being insane or stupid. The former might be true, but you saw through the latter… and you understood me anyway. So, thank you.”
He sighed, pushing his hands into the front pocket of the sweatshirt.
“Lemme try and put this succinctly… The Big Guy is… me, but… just the angry parts. Just the violent parts. I’ve done my best to hold him back these past few months. At UC6, I made a conscious decision to let him go… to take my hand off the reins. What he did to you and Kyra… I let him do that. And I’m sorry. I made a choice that put everyone at risk, even me, because I was desperate… you of all people didn’t deserve to take the brunt end of that.”
“Well, it obviously worked.”
Mitch shrugged, then winced, rubbing his shoulder, sighing.
“Sorry. I… I should be happy for you. You found your wife, or vice-versa. You found yourself. You’ve got the title and I’d bet there ain’t no motherfucker who can beat you for it. After what you must’ve been through, you deserve all that. You… you're going to be fine. I’m glad you’re going to be fine.”
Whatever was behind the hedge zipped out, opting for a closer vantage point from behind a nearby bench. It was a more obvious hiding spot, however, and the form of a young girl was now clearly visible, peeking over the back of the bench with large hazel eyes carrying a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.
Mitch sighed.
“...you’re the worst ninja, you know. You might’s well come over here.”
At the prompting, the girl fully emerged from behind the bench. She was skinny as a rail, her clothes only somewhat less shabby than Mitch’s, her winter coat a few sizes too big. She wore a penguin-shaped backpack as well, which bobbed a bit as she jogged behind Mitch, peering at the massive other man.
“...Pen. My kid sister.”
King cocked his head to the side; he seemed to become even more aware of his size, rolling his shoulders inward a bit and lowering his head in an effort to appear less imposing. He exhaled through his nose, coughed lightly, and nodded to the girl in a gentle motion.
“Nice to finally meet you,” he said softly, his eyes flickering from her back to Mitch. “I’m sorry, but I’m about to tell your brother he’s full of shit, but it’s for his benefit… promise.”
King straightened a bit, looking his best friend in the eyes.
“Mitch,” he breathed, sounding just a little exasperated. “I know you’re in a rough place right now. I know your life isn’t easy. I don’t know the details, but a man doesn’t fight like you if he isn’t desperate. I should know. So lemme say this. You’re the only motherfucker tough enough to take that belt from me, and that hasn’t changed. You lost to a monster on a technicality; you didn’t lose to me. I didn’t pin you, remember? I pinned Kyra Johnson. You lost by omission. I still haven’t beat you. I don’t wanna hear that bullshit again about nobody being able to take me, especially from you. Get your head back on.
“And unfortunately,” he went on, holding up a hand in case Mitch thought to interject, “I wish you were right. That I was gonna be fine. But it’s not that simple. My health is a fucking joke; I’ll be lucky if I live half as long as you unless I can get better treatment. I can’t right now, because if I sign into a hospital the people I escaped from might catch wind of where I am. I have a wife who’s beside herself with worry for me, and I can barely remember a tenth of our life together. I don’t remember my wedding. I don’t remember my hometown. I don’t remember my parents’ faces. And to cap it all off…”
He holds up his phone, unlocking the screen. The phone background is a baby girl with soft, wispy blonde hair, and wide, amber eyes that are unmistakably the progeny of the man holding the device.
“... I have a daughter, a year and a half old, who needs her daddy to be ok. And I can’t even promise her that. So… no, I’m not fine. But like you, I’m gonna manage. Because that’s what people like you and I do. We make shit work… even if the world is hellbent on kicking out our knees. Because there are people,” he said, glancing toward Pen, “who are counting on us.”
“Wow, she’s really cute.”
Pen’s voice was soft and cautious, her former ‘Scrappy Doo’ mindset mellowed a bit, especially in the face of an adorable baby.
Mitch turned his gaze to the side, looking down, seeming incredibly interested in the cracks in the pavement. He turned back a time or two as if about to say something only for it to die on his lips, his shoulders slumping. Breathing in deeply, he swallowed, closing his eyes.
“...sorry. You’re probably right, I am full of shit.”
Pen’s head swiveled back, eyes wide, head shaking.
“No you’re not…”
“No, I am. I shouldn’t have assumed so damn much. I apologize for that. Heh, you think I’d know when to keep my fucking mouth shut. … I was serious though. I am happy for you, and you do deserve this. Maybe more than anybody, considering. … I told Sil, by the way. About what happened. I didn’t know if you wanted me to keep it secret or not but… I couldn’t not tell him.”
King grimaced at that, but he knew well enough it was inevitable Silvio would find out. It had really only been a matter of time before the Oracle caught him coughing up a bloody lung in the apartment bathroom.
“I didn’t want him to worry,” he expressed, looking back up at Mitch. “But… that was probably the right thing to do. So… thanks. I’ll talk with him about it later. When I asked for your help that night, I didn’t know how you could, but being less bull-headed than me was probably a good start.”
Despite everything, King managed a thin smile.
“I expect you to come for my ass next year… fighting you has been the best feeling We’ve--I’ve--had, this whole time with Carnage. The Big Guy might just be a part of me, Mitch, but he’s a pretty big part of me. I’ve always loved this. It’s in my blood. And it’s been like finding family to cross paths with someone who loves it as much as I do.”
He looked toward the glass, where Grace was watching, and gave her a thumbs up through the window. I’m ok.
“Speaking of family… Grace would probably love to meet the guy who kept me in check this whole time. You too, Pen. Do you like to read? My wife writes books.”
“...for a minute. I gotta get on the road soon or I’ll be late for work… but sure.”
Pen blinked up at King, a softer sort of curiosity on her face.
“...what kind of books?”
“Fantasy, mostly.”
King tilted his head in a gesture of invitation.
“We won’t keep you too long… but I’m sure she’d like to show you more pictures of Luna while you’re here.”
“Cool.”
Tucking an arm around his sister, Mitch followed the other man inside.