When the resident villain Antennes found the hero NightHawk unconscious after their latest fight, he did what any villain would do, and took the opportunity to capture the hero. He expected the hero to fight back, lash out, probably kick his butt an...
Edward struggled in the men's grips, shoes scraping against the concrete as he was dragged further into the alley. The burly man held the knife at Edward's throat, forcing him to keep still as his pockets were patted down. He growled low in his throat.
"Didn't your parents tell you to keep your hands to yourself?" He bit out. One of the greasy thugs holding him snickered.
"Did your parents ever tell ya not to talk back to someone holding a knife to yer throat?" Touché.
"Look, fella's, we can do this one of two ways; The Easy Way or the Hard Way." The burly man quirked a thick brow.
"Eh? An' what's that?" Edward smirked.
"Easy Way; You let me go, and we all forget this ever happened. Hard Way; I kick your butt's so hard your grandchildren will have a limp." The three thugs exchanged glances, and Edward took the opportunity to kick out behind him, striking one of the men in the knees, causing them to fall to the ground, wailing. The burly thug reared back in surprise, taking the knife with him. Edward ripped his arm free of the remaining thugs' grip, ducking down to dodge a punch to the face and kneeing the guy in the stomach. The burly thug struck out, having regained his composure quickly, and ran at Edward. He was a lot faster than he looked, and Edward had to duck down to avoid a fist to the face. Edward moved, getting behind the thug and jamming his elbow into the back of his meaty neck, sending the man down hard. Edward was about to deal a final kick to the man's back when a shout caught his attention, and he looked up to see Damian, who a fourth thug was holding, a small gun pressed up against his side. This thug must have been at the other end of the alley as a lookout or something.
"Found him walkin' out the alley. Back off, tough guy. Hate to ruin this nice shirt'a his." Damian hissed as the gun was jabbed further into his skin. Edward stood, thinking. This was new to him; Not getting mugged or fighting, but having another person thrown into the mix he expected to save. He was the villain, the no-good crook; He didn't save people, NightHawk did. But NightHawk wasn't here, and neither was Antennes. There was only Edward. Eyebrows knitted together, Edward started coming up with a plan. Step one: Get the gun away from the string-bean of a man that was holding it. Step two: Wing it and hope for the best. He held his hands up in a sign of peace and moved forward slowly, trying to get as close to the guy as possible to grab the gun. Could he do it without Damian getting hurt? What if he was too slow, and the thug pulled the trigger while it was still pressed up to Damian? His palms grew sweaty. He glanced at the gun, and his eyes widened, noticing the thug's finger leave the trigger for a moment. Without another thought, he lunged and swung at the thug, missing his crooked nose by inches, but he wasn't trying to hit them anyway. He unleashed a bright flash of light, not quite a flame, blinding them and causing them to fall back, dropping the gun and releasing Damian, who ran away and out of the alley without looking back. Wow, how charming of him to leave Edward in the middle of this dank alley full of criminals. The guy wasn't even gonna stay and cheer him on? Whatever. He turned his attention back to the four sleezebags, about to knock them all over the head a few more times for ruining his evening, when a strong pair of arms wrapped around him from behind and lifted him to the rooftop above. What the? Edward turned his head to get a look at whoever dared to invade his bubble and promptly froze. It was NightHawk, his blond hair flying wildly in the breeze as they flew up into the air, his strong arms keeping Edward pressed firmly against the hero's chest as they landed with surprising grace on the rooftop. NightHawk released Edward then, who pointedly ignored the twinge of disappointment in his chest in favor of turning towards the hero, confused. Where the heck had he even come from?
"Are you alright?" NightHawk asked, eyes raking over Edward's body, looking for injuries. Edward squirmed, face heating despite himself. Good Gods, he didn't need the hero to undress him with his eyes.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He clipped. NightHawk finally met his eyes with a nod.
"...Good. You know, you really shouldn't go around looking for fights. You could get yourself hurt." What?
"I–! Those guys attacked me, not the other way around. I was enjoying a nice evening, minding my own business, when those guys tried to mug me! I gave them what they deserved; A grand butt-kicking." Edward couldn't believe the nerve of this guy! NightHawk blinked owlishly.
"O-oh, I'm sorry, I thought–! It's just that lot's of people try going out and finding others to beat up, acting like vigilantes. They usually have the best intentions, but then they get themselves in real trouble, so I try to help them and tell them to stop but they never listen and that's what I thought you were doing because you were really good at fighting, so I guess I assumed you were a vigilante too–" Edward's eyes widened, taken aback by the hero's praise and sudden word vomit session. Did NightHawk ramble when he was nervous? He never knew that. It was kind of adorable, but it was also becoming a bit much. He put a hand on the man's shoulder.
"Breathe, buddy. Look, it's fine, water under the bridge."
"Really?" NightHawk said, wide-eyed and cheeks pink.
"Y-yeah. Now, do you mind, uh...." Edward glanced over the side of the roof cautiously, chest tightening when he saw how far down the ground was. The hero got the message, stepping forward towards Edward before pausing.
"Uh, is it ok if I pick you up again? Or you can just grab onto my arm." The thought of only having NightHawks arm to hold on to while plummeting towards the alley sent a shiver up Edward's spine.
"Uh, picking up is fine. I guess." NightHawk nodded and grabbed Edward, hooking one arm under his knees while using the other to hold Edward securely under his back, pulling him tightly to the hero's chest. Edward's heart fluttered for multiple reasons when NightHawk jumped off the roof, his eyes squeezing shut. He took a deep breath, trying to focus on the smell of...what was that? Cologne and...cleaning detergent? Smelt nice, like fresh fruit and pine trees. With a slight jerk, they landed on the ground, but Edward kept his eyes firmly shut, jaw clenched. He hated heights. NightHawk didn't say anything, just carried Edward down the alley to the sidewalk, where a few civilians stared at him in awe. Edward cracked his eyes open then, realizing that he'd unconsciously latched his arms around Nighthawk's neck and scrambling to let go. The hero set him down with a small smile.
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(New art! 2022)
"Stay safe, uh...?"
"Edward." He responded breathlessly.
"Right. Have a good night, Edward." With that, NightHawk was gone, vanishing into the night. Edward didn't move, feet firmly planted to the ground as he stared at the spot where NightHawk had been standing, feeling dazed. It wasn't until Pam came running up, yelling at him about abandoning her and making her worry that he finally moved, asking if he could stay at her place for the night. She agreed, and the two left quickly. In her car Edward stared at the paper he'd pulled out of his pocket, thinking that the chances of Damian calling him were probably slim. He sighed dejectedly. He needed ice cream.
