Of Heroes And Villains: The Ties That Bind By Minikisa An assassin. A fallen hero. An unlikely meeting. The road to redemption is long and hard and filled with explosives.

Psy clawed at his forehead, trying to purge the horror of Pestilence’s mind while his lung burned and his throat tasted of blood. Never had he seen a mindscape like it. Deceptively calm waters, stretching into infinity, and the moment he had dipped below the surface he had seen the void, a churning, horrific vortex that wanted nothing but devour.

And now it was devouring him, from the inside.

He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe.

PsyKick split his mind, reorienting himself while his other self gasped for air. He had no sensory input to work with, so he tentatively reached beyond his walls, sweeping the area for other minds. Most were unconscious and thus useless to him.

One stood out, bright and beautiful, but far away, and he did not call for her because he did not want Caroline anywhere near Pestilence. Still, he could not help but take a moment to borrow her vision, to see if she was safe.


She pirouetted, struggling to keep her balance, jerking up her staff to parry the lethal blow of The Maw. Her arms shook, muscles screaming in protest. Not for the first time in her life she silently cursed her small body, and the limitations that came with it. Then she dropped down, sweeping a leg. The Executioner merely jumped, bringing down his blade.

Her vision went white when she blinked away, and she seamlessly began the next sequence of their deadly dance.


Stephen brushed her mind gently, lovingly, but did not dare make his presence more obvious lest he distract her at a critical moment. He knew people had to get used to having someone in their head, even if it seemed as natural as breathing to him.

Executioner, too. Wonderful. Where the hell was Shade anyway?

Then he moved on, brushing past a mind that was closed to him with PsyBlockers, and avoiding The Void entirely. He slipped into the mind that was awake and alert, and so very familiar.

Mind if I borrow your sight?

Since when do you have to ask?

If Psy had been the part in charge of moving his body parts, he would have smiled at that. Then he gently integrated himself into Tex’ senses.


He was staring down at a bloodied palm, at blood he had just coughed up. The burn in his chest was spreading rapidly, so much faster than before, and he jerked his gaze toward Dionaea.

She was holding Psy’s still form, pressing a glowing palm to his chest. Her gaze was on Pestilence.

The vines surrounding them had all turned black and gnarled, still curled tightly around so many people. All of them infected. He knew Dionaea was a talented healer – Psy’s presence was proof of that – but how could any one healer keep up with that before people started dying?

“Ah, you will save that one first, then?”

The assassin’s smile widened and his black gaze turned to Tex.

“And let this one die?”

His lungs caught fire.


Psy retreated; immersing himself in Tex’ pain would achieve nothing but destroy the clarity that cutting himself off from his own body had brought. He was still aware of what was happening to both of them, but he viewed both from a distance, as if peeking through a window.

He prodded at the mind shielded from him by PsyBlockers, convinced it was Diane’s. In a bitter irony, she was wearing them specifically to protect herself from him, as he had made her promise before he allowed himself to be released into her custody. He had wanted her to be safe if he had a relapse.

And now it left him with no way to communicate with her. While he could break PsyBlockers with time and effort, he had neither, and even if he did, the shock would just distract Diane from Pestilence when she truly could not afford it.

He agitatedly prowled the edges of his walls.

And then a new mind appeared in his periphery.


***


Diane cradled Stephen’s body. The rise and fall of his chest was so subtle that for one terrible moment she thought he’d stopped breathing. She was pouring magic into him, but that black thing inside him just kept twisting and crawling to hide from her light, spreading once more the moment she lost track of it.

Tex had started coughing and would soon be in a similar state.

And that fucker was smirking at her.

Her.

“It’s a cute game you play,” she said in a low voice. “Make me choose, and then try to pretend that those deaths are on me. Maybe make me lose my will to fight, too. Well, unlike the heroic types who think everything that ever goes tragically wrong in life is their responsibility, I don’t fall for that shit. Whoever dies, dies to your hands, not mine. And you know what?” She tightened her hold on Stephen as her eyes glowed bright and fierce.

“I play a game, too. It’s called favorites.”

The assassin sighed.

“Well, if you’re not going to play along, I suppose I’ll kill you quickly.”

Diane smirked. It wasn’t really a smile; she was baring her teeth.

“I am Dionaea.”

Her thorns sharpened and a moment later pierced her skin. Blood welled, and blood magic stirred.

“I was created by the most brilliant mind to ever live. I can heal people others have long since lost hope on. I eat light itself. And you just pissed me off.”

She slammed her palm onto a black, gnarled vine, repairing the connection she had severed. Phantom pain wracked her body, but she had known worse; this was nothing. Red light spilled from her blood, her eyes, from every pore of her body as she gathered all her healing magic.

“You think it’s impossible for me to heal all of them and fight you off? Your first and last mistake is underestimating just how much I delight in breaking every rule someone tries to impose on me.”

A crimson shockwave washed over the room.

She smiled down at Stephen as the veins under his skin shimmered with her magic, burning away the plague.

“Achieving the impossible is my specialty.”

Stephen opened his golden eyes.

A moment later, Tex was on his feet, having jumped to his feet without using his hands, which were once again crackling with red lightning. Pestilence hissed, his veins bulging with black, but they left him no time to react.

Texplosion’s fingertips brushed one of the floating table knives, charging it. Pestilence made no sound as the steel pierced his skin, guided by the unerring aim of a golden glow. His bony fingers closed around the handle to pull it out.

The explosion took his hand and his shoulder, leaving horrifically melted flesh.

Tex sank to his knees, coughing once again. Diane had momentarily pushed back the sickness, but it was so hard to truly eradicate.

And Pestilence laughed.

The skin started mending instantly, the burned crust falling away to reveal a hardened obsidian shell beneath before pale white flesh grew over it.

“You get points for effort, sweetheart. I do love an opponent who does not just fall over. It gets boring.”

And then his neck snapped under the full force of a roundhouse kick.

Kara landed precariously balanced on one foot.

“You know what I love?” she asked, voice low and menacing.

Pestilence nonchalantly twisted his head back into proper position.

Kara closed the distance in a whirl of dark mist, yanking his wrist. Pestilence smiled triumphantly, dark eyes sparkling as his disease instantly spread to her. Blood seeped from her nostril.

“Shade, you moron,” Tex roared. “Don’t touch him!”

A power suppressor cuff clicked into place.

Pestilence’s smile vanished, eyes growing wide.

“I love a villain who can’t fight without his powers.”

She rammed her knee into his abdomen and he doubled over. Then Kara dropped low and swept her leg, kicking in an upward arc, and her combat boot connected with his jaw once more.

Pestilence staggered back and fell.

He did not get back up.


***


Shade crouched low, breathing heavily, likely feeling the same burning chest pain that was keeping Tex on his knees. Tex had to admit that was an impressive kamikaze maneuver, but then, nobody could ever accuse Shade of not being brave in a fight.

Yet then she pushed herself up, seeming no worse for wear.

A moment later she was tackled by Dionaea, who wrapped her arms tightly around Shade’s waist and kissed her deeply. Shade’s hand instantly dropped to Dionaea’s ass, squeezing while she enthusiastically kissed her back.

Tex blinked.

What.

Wasn’t Shade dating Captain Patriot?

Psy suddenly started laughing, which quickly became a deep rattling cough that was painful just to listen to. He was still laughing through it, and as twisted as the sound was, Tex realized it was the first time he had heard its like in three years. That, at least, drew the attention of the couple, who stopped groping each other. With effort. Shade gently pried away Dionaea, who was clinging like one of her vines, and nudged her toward Psy.

“Can you heal them or should I call for help?”

“Please. Do not underestimate my fabulosity.”

“I never do.” Shade pressed a kiss to her forehead, and her voice was so low Tex barely heard it. “I have to go find Caroline.” Then her gaze focused on Psy, and she drew her plasma blade, pointing it directly at him. “You! We are going to have words!”

She disappeared in her shadows and Tex turned his head toward Psy.

…the hell?

Yeah, that’s gonna be a fun conversation.

What did you do?

Broke her PsyBlockers. Also slept with her sister.

“WHAT?!”