The Ties That Bind Chapter 9

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Of Heroes And Villains:
The Ties That Bind


An assassin.

A fallen hero.

An unlikely meeting.

The road to redemption is long and hard and filled with explosives.
The Ties That Bind



Caroline.

CarolineCarolineCaroline, her heart sang and Kara squeezed her even tighter, never wanting to let go. She kept chanting the name like a mantra, maybe even out loud, she couldn’t tell. Everything paled in comparison to the knowledge that she was holding her sister.

The sister who was supposed to be dead.

The sister who had been missing from Kara’s life for ten long years.

She had questions, of course she did. Where have you been? How did you get in here? What are you doing here? Why did you not come back sooner?

But none of them mattered, not right now.

“Caroline,” she sobbed, and her throat burned with unshed tears.

Caroline wasn’t hugging her back.

The piercing pain at the realization that her sister probably didn’t even recognize her was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.


***



Kara grew still, her labored breaths evening out.

PsyKick remained frozen, feeling like a horrible voyeur intruding on a moment that was clearly not meant for him, and one that Kara would hate him for having witnessed. The prospect of confessing his identity at this point had moved from mild embarrassment at his predicament to pure mortification.

“Caroline,” Kara murmured, nuzzling his cheek. “It’s me, it’s Ian.”

Ian.

Where is the real Ian?

And suddenly PsyKick understood with perfect clarity what his interrogation had been about.

“Oh god,” he whispered, horrified. Had she not been a villain after all? But she’d seemed ready to torture him for information. Out of desperation?

Kara grew rigid. “I know, I know, I’m sorry, I can’t help being like this–“

PsyKick interrupted her by pushing her off, uncomfortable beyond belief. Shade’s normally emotionless face flashed with deep hurt, which only made him feel worse.

“Kara, stop. I’m not… I’m not who you think I am.”

She froze. Then her brows furrowed, a calculating gleam in her red-rimmed eyes.

“You have five seconds to explain who you are and why you decided to appear in that form.” Her voice was flat.

“…PsyKick,” he admitted in a small voice.

Kara hissed in a sharp breath, and her fingers clenched. He did not need his powers to know that she was currently imagining throttling him.

“You know,” she said slowly, cold fury suffusing every word. “I could ask you where the fuck you’ve been, but instead I’ll say this: First, get out of my head. Second, start running, because I am about to get my blades and then I’ll fucking eviscerate you for this stunt.”

“I’m not in your head,” he said defensively, offended that she would even think him capable of such cruelty. Yes, he and Tex had played the occasional prank on Shade just to see if it would break the brooding vigilante’s composure. He’d been young and stupid, but even then PsyKick did not go out of his way to break into other people’s minds to dredge up painful memories. “This isn’t what you think.”

“Isn’t it?” Her eyes glittered dangerously. “Because I see the same fucking asshole who told everyone I was psychotic just because I was grieving.”

“Look, I don’t know who exactly Caroline is to you, but she just kidnapped and interrogated me to get to you, so do not give me shit over this.”

“…what.”

“And for the record, you were psychotic. I know what grief looks like and what you had wasn’t it!” Uncalled for, maybe, but PsyKick’s mood had finally hit rock bottom. He had been kidnapped, almost tortured and now was one dick short. He did not need misdeeds of another life thrown at him.

Shade didn’t even seem to hear him. “What did you just say about Caroline?”

PsyKick exhaled, rubbing his temple, trying to ignore the long hair he had to brush aside to do that. “A woman kidnapped me. Held a knife to me face. Asked me where the real Ian Reynolds was.” Kara’s lips parted. “I panicked and deactivated my cuff. I…”

She was staring at him with wide eyes.

“…I haven’t used my powers in three years, Shade. I was trying to defend myself.”

Kara reached out, brushing her fingertips along his cheekbones.

“Are you telling me,” she said slowly. “You’re in my sister’s body?”

Sister.

At length, PsyKick nodded.

“Where is she?” Kara was blinking rapidly again. “Tell me!”

“I left her. In my body. I don’t know where, I teleported here.”

“Get back. Now.

“I can’t! I don’t know how!”

Shadows swirled around Kara and she briefly dissolved into them only to reappear instantly. “Picture destination, focus, teleport,” she hissed.

“I tried! Don’t pretend you learned control of your powers instantly!”

Kara’s eye twitched. Then she grew still, focused on something else entirely.

She suddenly lunged forward, brushing aside his long hair to reveal his neck, pushing back the coat. PsyKick squirmed under her rough manhandling, and realized with a start that Kara was bigger and stronger than him.

Kara made a choked sound that sounded like a suppressed No.

A swirl of shadows later she was gone, leaving PsyKick dazed and confused.

He slowly drew his knees to his chest, not quite certain what he was supposed to do now. It felt wrong, his breasts pressing up against his arms, and he shuddered.

Where was his Mistress? Maybe she would…

Do what? Tell him what to do? Let him curl up at her feet until he calmed down?

Hadn’t he been reveling in defiance less than an hour ago?

And now he just wanted to crawl back to grovel.

Numb, he forced himself to stand up, mechanically turning toward the mirror.

A woman stared back at him. Now that he knew what to look for, the resemblance to Kara was uncanny. Granted, she did not have her sister’s build – she was small and slender, yet when he laid a hand on his flat stomach he met the hard resistance of lady abs. He pulled away the trenchcoat to see what had caused Kara to look so devastated.

He hissed in a sharp breath at the sight.

Tattooed between his neck and right shoulder blade was a small yet ornate infinity symbol. PsyKick recognized it, as any hero of the city would.

It was the mark of the Order of Oblivion.

Somewhere in the mansion he heard the sound of glass shattering, as if somebody was smashing furniture in a blind rage.



***


Caroline writhed on the floor, clutching her head in agony.

The noise.

It wouldn’t stop.

Panting heavily, she forced herself to roll on her belly, drawing herself up in a crouch. This was just pain. She could handle pain. Radiance inhaled sharply and then exhaled at length, calming herself.

Or tried to.

Meditation was somewhat challenging. Emptying one’s mind was nigh impossible when there were about a thousand voices in the way.

The fissures to her feet deepened, glowing brightly.

She had no time for this.

Ian needed her.

That thought brought clarity. The roar of voices faded to a faint murmur in the back of her head, no louder than a brook in the woods. Caroline sat up and stared down at herself. She raised a hand to her flat chest, pressing her palm against it.

Despite her impression of him as gaunt, there were well-defined pectoral muscles there. Not a hint of the soft, yielding flesh she was used to. Yet when her hand slid lower, she could feel ribs shifting beneath the skin.

He’d either lost a lot of weight recently or had just started building muscle mass.

She got to her feet with a not-quite-voluntary grunt, and swayed. Then she took a tentative step forward and grimaced, wondering just how the fuck men walked with that thing in the way.

After a few more strides and almost losing her balance, she figured it out.

That she had reason to feel accomplished just for walking in a straight line sobered her. She couldn’t fight like this; her size, her strength, her balance, everything was off. The foundation on which she had built her martial arts style was gone. Given time, she could certainly learn to fight in this body as well, especially given the utterly insane levels of power it was equipped with, but it was time she did not have.

Caroline still did not understand how her scan had not picked up on him being this powerful. Subtle powers like her own could slip under the radar of detection tech if not in use, but this… The walls were cracking with the force of her anger, and she couldn’t even feel it costing her energy.

The man wearing her skin would no doubt figure out how to get back to his Mistress, and they would know that she was onto them. Would they accelerate their plans in response? Dispose of her brother even sooner?

The walls crumbled, and the ground shook.

And Caroline realized with chagrin that she would need to call for help.


***



Diane followed the sound of smashing furniture, absently pressing her sharp fingernails into the palm of her hand, drawing blood. It sounded like there was a battle going on; if Stephen truly had a relapse, she would need to subdue him.

Though hopefully just an order would do. If he didn’t listen to her, she supposed that would be progress as well.

But she found only Kara standing in the midst of the living room. The table was overturned, its legs broken, and the china in the glass cabinets was smashed. She was currently gearing up for another sweeping kick, her foot connecting with a drawer and splintering the wood.

“Good thing you killed that drawer; it had a very sinister air about it. No longer will it plot evilly against us.”

Kara froze, and then turned her head toward Diane in an eerily slow motion. She was breathing heavily and her eyes were narrowed in an expression Diane had not seen from her in quite some time. Hatred. Pain. Confusion.

Diane tentatively held out her hands.

Kara stayed where she was.

“A villain,” she hissed. It sounded like an accusation.

“Not anymore,” Diane replied in a gentle voice, taking a step forward. “What’s wrong?”

Kara turned away and half-heartedly kicked the base of the last standing cabinet.

“Go ask your minion upstairs.”

A moment later only black smoke remained, slowly dissipating in the air.

Diane stood frozen, and then slowly raised her head to gaze at the ceiling. She absently rubbed her aching chest, biting her lower lip at the almost unfamiliar pain. She’d be lying if she said they never had fights – their personalities and values simply clashed too much – but this was a different scale entirely. Kara had not looked at her like that since she’d reformed.

She made her way up to Stephen’s room, tentatively pushing open the door.

A scantily clad woman was standing in front of the full-length mirror, a white coat lying discarded at her feet. She was poking her small breasts, cupping them with a quizzical expression on her face.

Diane laughed in disbelief at the sense of déjà vu enveloping her.

The woman turned around, dropping her hands as if she’d burned them. And Diane recognized the face, even though she’d only seen it in old photographs and grainy footage.

“Mistress,” she said miserably, almost apologetically, as if expecting a terrible reaction from her.

“Stephen,” Diane said, keeping her voice steady and gentle. “What did you do?”


***



PsyKick exhaled softly, breathing more easily as his Mistress ran her fingers through his long hair. The sensation was unfamiliar but not unpleasantly so. He was lying curled up on his bed, his head resting on her lap.

Mistress sighed. “I’ll never understand heroes. One would think Kara would be happy that Caroline is alive, even if you two started off on the wrong foot.”

“She threatened to torture me,” he murmured.

She waved her hand as if to say Details. Sometimes he forgot that Diane truly had been a villain, with all the lack of morality that entailed. Which was a little strange, considering the only reason she was his Mistress was that lack of morality.

His brows furrowed a little as he examined that thought process. That didn’t sound right.

He turned over, gazing up at her. He hadn’t wanted to do what the villainess said, but if Diane were to give him an order right now, he was certain he’d follow it. But if not because of her being a villainess, then why?

He examined her beautiful face as she absently chewed on her lower lip, and realized that she genuinely did not understand the gravity of what Caroline was. He tilted his head, exposing his neck, splaying his fingertips over the brand.

“Look.”

Her red eyes were blank as she gazed at his throat.

“That’s the symbol for The Order of Oblivion. A loose collective of assassins.”

She exhaled. “Villains can reform.”

“Not them. Even if they wanted to.”

Her brows furrowed. “Explain,” she demanded, and the urge to obey pricked his temper. Since when did orders from her bother him? He realized with a start that she hadn’t given him any in weeks, always taking great care to never outright tell him what to do.

“There was a heroine a couple of years ago. Crimson Lotus. Martial artist augmented with technology. Quite skilled. She became a 7 within months, saving countless lives. Despite the fame and admiration she quickly gathered, she avoided the spotlight. It turned out she did so for good reason – a reporter dug too deep and exposed her past as a member of the Order.”

He paused.

“Not three days after that, she was found dead in Atlas Square. The sword in her chest had the symbol of the Order engraved on it. A warning to those considering a similar path. Service in the Order is for life.”

PsyKick closed his eyes, absently tracing the black ink.

“Deserters are executed.”


***



Caroline growled low in her throat as she kept hitting the wrong numbers with her clumsy, too-big fingers, trying to dial her too-small phone. She punched in the last number and held the phone to her ear.

Radiance avoided contracts in Paragon City like the plague. True, she had personal reasons for that, but the Order also had the metropolis well covered and would have utilized a teleporter for more remote regions anyway.

The dial tone was cut off with the crackle of static.

“Radiance,” greeted a cold, flat voice.

If this PsyKick was just a minion, facing the people in charge in an unfamiliar body with power that she could barely control by herself was beyond foolish. While she disliked the top operative in the city, for her brother nothing but the best would do.

“Executioner,” she said as silkily as she could with her new deep voice. “I have a job for you.”

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Comments

“Executioner,”

uh oh ... nothing good can come out of getting him involved ...

DogSig.png

I disagree

But then, I'm the author who thrives on ~drama~

My definition of "good" is a little...different ;)

can Diane

heal the brand? complications, they make the story go round. you got it spinning.
great chapter, thanks

*spins a little more*

I love my characters too much to make it easy for them :3

Painful Memories

I am sure that Diane can heal the brand, but the Order knows who Caroline is or was, so they will know where to look for her. Shade is mad, not about PsyKick, but that her sister is not what Kara thought she was. That she left him and became a killer, while he spent all that time after what he through was her death by a villain trying to take out his pain over this on every villain he could. Now, even if they find each other and she finds out the truth Kara may kill her for destroying her memory of her sister.

Well....

No matter how angry Kara is, killing is not a line she crosses. Maiming however...

Brand or not, leaving the Order is indeed no mean feat.

oh $#!%

This is gonna get messy, if caroline is sending the executioner after the "imposter Ian", not realizing that kara is actually shade, confrontation will be... interesting.

Thanks for sharing, can't wait for the next installment.


Vita est brevis. Occupo quis tripudium vos reperio.
-Life is short. Seize what joy you find.

*grins*

It's really a tragedy of errors. Poor Caroline, but the path to hell is paved with good intentions.

What Caroline did -

What Caroline did - abandoning her family (even if her parents are dead and it is only her brother) - is unforgivable.

I would be really interested in knowing how Caroline somehow thought it was a good idea to join an order of assassins.

choices

She may not have been given a choice, and remember, when she was "free" of the league, she checked up on her family, or what's left of it. She may even have believed she was protecting ian by not contacting him. I'm sure all (well at least some) of this will be made clear in time.


Vita est brevis. Occupo quis tripudium vos reperio.
-Life is short. Seize what joy you find.

k2hanna is not wrong

The Order is not a big believer in free will.

Though coercion does not erase that Caroline made some very poor choices indeed. Unforgivable...? Well, that's up to the reader to decide. All shall be revealed in time :)

More bad news

Tas's picture

The Executioner is not someone we want getting involved with Shade, but Caroline has no way of knowing that. Things are going to get sticky very fast.

-Tas