Fisher Hawkins
Eyeing the fresh face in the pub, a red haired woman cleaned a glass from the back of the bar. She knew all her regulars. Everyone knew her. So why hadn't she seen this pretty face before? A new hero?
Sliding in front of Delilah on the opposite side of the bar, she offered the girl a warm smile. Her face was freckled and covered with light scars, telling of a rich past. "I haven't seen ya around," She hummed, finishing up with the glass she had been cleaning. "Can I get you somethin'?"
"A new life…" Delilah mused quietly, as she turned to face the red haired woman with a small, tired smile, "But for now, just a beer. I'm not exactly a local. My…" Blinking, she chuckled dryly. It still felt strange to say, considering how unconventional their entire relationship had been, "My boyfriend got messed up by my psychopathic stalker… and Doc's takin' care of him. Nice place you got here."
Scoffing humorously, the red haired woman shook her head as she poured a generous mug of beer. "Sounds rough." She muttered, glancing around the bar. "Yeah, thanks. Been a long time 'comin." Her smile was cold as she turned back to Lilah and rested her hands on the bar top. "So, who's the super in the relationship?" She smirked. "Anyone we'd know? Should I put him on the wall?" She have a nod of her head to the memorabilia on the wall.
Laughing softly, she shrugged, "Knockout, actually… But I guess we're both technically… I mean, I'm not one of you guys, or anything, but I can…" Pinching the bridge of her nose, she smirked, "Sorry… I haven't been sleeping well. At any rate, he might already be on the wall. He's pretty tight with Doc."
"Oh!" Came the barkeep's delighted response, surprise etching into her features. "Fish! He's here quite a bit. Already on the wall for sure!" Her happiness diminished quickly. "Ah.. damn, he got beat up, huh?" She shook her head. "Too often, I'll say. Kid can't stay in one piece." She gestured to Lilah's splinted arm. "I can see it's been a rough week for the both of ya."
"We grew up together, Fish and me… None of this was supposed to happen, but things just kind of… fell apart." Looking at her arm, she frowned, "It's been a rough life." Glancing up, a brow lifted and she looked around. It seemed like a Fish place, somehow… "I've never actually heard about all this… How long's it even been here?"
"I assure you, everyone here's had a rough life." She said with a shake of her head. "This life ain't easy. So it's best this stays hidden." Glancing around the room, her face contorted in thought. "This hasn't been around long enough. This pub's only been open a few years.. underground is barely a few decades old."
"I'm glad… I dunno that Fish would've made it, if this place wasn't around. And I don't just mean recently. He needed something like this, I think… to pull himself out of the mess we were left with..." Sitting back on the stool, she turned to the girl again, "I'm Delilah, by the way."
Nodding appreciatively, she leaned over the counter with her hand outstretched. "Willow. I own this fine establishment. If you're looking to meet some more people from the superhero life, this is the place to be." She smirked.
"Honestly? I'm not sure what I'm looking for right now, Willow. This whole… part of the world? It's kind of new for me. I actually just found out about Fish, and I definitely never imagined a place like this existed. I'm not sure the capes and tights life is for me, you know? But it's nice to know Fish has good people behind him."
"I'm sure." Willow said reassuringly. "But I invite you to explore. People are happy to share, there's a lot to learn. When Fish is up and at 'em bring him over so I can kick his ass all over again." Willow chuckled. "Even if the capes and tights life isn't for you, there's still a lot to learn and to aid."
Chuckling, she nodded, "I'll let him know. He seems pretty enamoured by trouble, so I'm sure he'll rush right over." With a sigh, she leaned her elbows against the bar top, "...So is everyone in here… Are they all… you know? Special?"
"The majority, yeah." Willow said. "This whole place is for the people with nowhere else to go. Y'know they call Millennium the city for people who have something to run away from." She said with a sad sigh. "Not everyone's a hero, but they've all got somethin' special, if that's how you want to put it." Her gaze was knowing, and she often spoke through a smirk.
"I never figured…" Shaking her head, she turned back to Willow, "There's so many of them. Of us. When I was younger, before I knew about Fish and…" Blinking, she hesitated. She'd avoided it… saying him name, since Fisher had first been brought in. Like some freakish curse might be unleashed and he'd appear, summoned… "Anyway, I guess we're not so alone."
Smiling, Willow picked up another glass to dry it. "We've always been here. It's just a shame we've gotta stay hidden. Not for long, though. We can all feel it." She eyed Lilah curiously. "So? Now you've gotta tell me, what's your power?"
A brow lifted, and looking up, Delilah smirked, "...I can manipulate smoke. Used to just be able to move it around, but I'm getting better. I can solidify it, now. At least partially. Can't make it, though. Gotta come from somewhere… What about you?"
"Mm." Willow mumbled, a noise of perhaps understanding. The power seemed to intrigue her. "Void manipulation. Though it's not as daunting as it sounds. More like a personal little space pocket." She said with a shrug. "It comes in handy for storing things."
Chuckling, Delilah nodded, "That does sound handy. You'd never need a purse. And packing for a trip must be a dream." Rubbing her fingers along the splint, the smile faded a little, "...I used to see the news stories… About the heroes. And I always wondered what it's like. But I just… I dunno. I'm not like Fish…"
Willow rolled her eyes. "Says who?" Her tone was nonchalant. "You can be like whoever you wanna. Something tells me you'd be good at the gig. Don't tell me you're too chicken to try." Willow flashed her a grin; it was obviously a lighthearted joke. "Plus, I'm sure Fish would walk you through it. He's been building his name for a long time. He's really got a knack for it. With a boyfriend like that, cmon. You can't tell me you'll never try."
"Ha! Chicken? No… no it's just… A lot of the stuff that happened when we were kids? It's my fault. And I guess I just never wanted to put myself in a position to hurt him again. After what happened to him? Seeing what that animal did to him?" With a small shrug, she looked up again, "If I ever lost him, it would destroy me."
Willows look became a bit more solemn. "So, we talkin' about the animal that beat him up now, or the dog bite he's got on his arm?" She said with a small snort, trying to ease the tension. "Kid rambles a lot when he's drunk, is all I'm saying. I doubt it's all your fault, really. Shit happens. You're here now and he's recovering and that's just how life goes. It brought you back together, so I doubt he'll let you go again." She smiled warmly. "He's the hero type… he'll always try to make sacrifices. As with most the people in this line of work. He'll learn not to be so quick to throw himself around now that you're here." Willow looked down, the smirk still present on her lips. "Heaven knows he needs to learn sometime."
Chuckling dryly, without much humor, her shoulders bounced in another shrug, "Both, I guess. I know it's not really my fault, but it's just… Fish doesn't think when it comes to the people he loves. He just does… and half the time, it gets him into messes like this. And I guess I've always been sort of a blind spot."
But as she continued, Delilah seemed to consider the words, sinking back a little, "...But maybe you're right. Maybe if it wasn't him against the world, alone… I dunno. I guess I've got time to think about it, anyway."
Willow nodded. "You definitely do. Well, Delilah, I hope you find the underground to your liking." She pulled out a business card from her pocket, the words The Glass Belly shimmering in black cardstock. "Give me a call if you need anything. It's probably best I actually get back to work, now. It's been a pleasure."
Taking the card, she glanced up and nodded with a small smile, "Thanks Willow. I'll be sure to tell Fisher to stop by when he's not all banged up." Tucking the card into her back pocket, she rose to her feet, "You take care…"
With a small wave, Delilah slipped through the crowd and back out of the Glass Belly. It was early, yet, but she was never too keen on being away from Fisher for long, and so she started back down the tunnel pathways to where the hospital was located.
Arriving a short while later, she found Fisher was still asleep fairly peacefully, and deciding the beer she'd had wasn't nearly satisfying enough, she found her way to the vending machines in the hall for something slightly more substantial.
Someone was already standing in front of the machine, letting out a string of curses as it appeared not to be letting any snacks out. The man appeared in his mid twenties, with long, shaggy black hair and sharp blue eyes. A black bandana lay against his neck, one that looked like it was to be pulled up to cover the mouth. He was a strange get up, though it would be familiar to those who followed the news closely. It resembled that of a knight, though half of his armor was missing, it was clear he was wearing part of a costume that seemed highly functional for battle. His hero name was Gallant, and he was quite well known. Now, however, his leg was in a cast and one arm rested upon a crutch while his other hand smashed the vending machine's keypad.
As she approached the machines, Delilah paused and for a moment, only a moment, stared at the figure in confusion. But as recognition slowly revolved in her mind, a small smirk formed and stepping forward, she peered at him, "...It's… You're… Gallant, right? Oh wow. This… this is weird."
Gaze flying up with a startled look, Gallant turned towards Delilah. "Uh.. yeah," He muttered, distaste in his voice. He narrowed his eyes at Delilah. His stature seemed cautious. He looked tense. "Damn thing just ate my dollar and I'm hungry." He whined. "You're not some fan girl, are you?"
Laughing quietly, Delilah shook her head, "Nah… I mean. You're great and all, but I think my boyfriend would probably take issue with that. What's your number?" Pausing, she smirked, gesturing to the machine, "On the keypad, I mean."
He seemed surprised when she asked for his number, and relieved when she clarified. "Ah. Uh. 408." For a bag of doritos. Gallant seemed somewhat uncomfortable around the woman, and shifted uneasily on his crutch. He was well known for his skill on the battlefield, a very obvious medieval theme paired excellently with his mastery in swordsmanship. With his skill he was able to create large blasts of energy forceful enough to throw an opponent back, by thrusting his sword into the earth. Now, however, he seemed smaller, and certainly a lot more tired.
Never meet your heroes… That was always what she'd been told, and she could see, at least to a degree, why. There was always something a little… disenchanting about seeing someone you admired up close and personal, ordering doritos from a vending machine.
With a nod, she turned to the machine and running her finger down the front, located the number, and with a quick glance around, she gave the whole machine a bump with her hip. The doritos wavered on their peg before, with a small thwock, they fell into the receiving tray, "...I've been here a few days. Learned how to muscle her into submission. What happened to your leg?"
He gave a short chuckle of surprise, maneuvering among the crutch to reach for the bag of doritos out if he machine. Shrugging unhappily, Gallant huffed in despair. "Was chasing a crook. Got pushed out a window. Not my best moment." He muttered. "What happened to your arm?"
Looking to her fingers, she smirked, "Tortured by my psychotic former foster brother… It's kind of a long story. And why I'm here. He messed up my boyfriend pretty bad. Not our best moments, either, I guess."
"Hrm." Gallant muttered, mulling over the situation Delilah had just laid out for him. "I'd say you won this round." He said, tone just sturdy enough to make you wonder if he was joking or not. "Would I know you? You a super? Or your boyfriend?"
"He is…" She continued, glancing to the machine with consideration. After a few seconds, she decided on the rice krispie treat and pressing the buttons, waited for the machine to dispense it, "Knockout. Apparently, people know him, down here. This is all pretty new to me."
A look of realization dawned on Gallant's face. "Oh. Knockout." He seemed somewhat worried. "He's not.. Hurt too bad, right? He'll recover?" Gallant said, eyeing Delilah squarely.
"Yeah…" She started quietly, bending down to take out the package, "Yeah, I think he'll be alright. At least physically. Solomon… he messed him up pretty bad, but he's always been tough. Still… it'll be a while."
"I don't know who Solomon is." Gallant said matter-of-factly. "But I wish him a speedy recovery. We're not on a real name basis, me and Knockout, but.. I'm Aspen." He stuck out his hand, brows furrowed. "Sorry to hear 'bout all that."
"You might remember him from his recent escapades… Blowing up that wing in the hospital, and that city bus. The... the case worker office, downtown." Extending her good hand, which required a bit of maneuvering, she nodded, "Delilah. And thanks. We got him, so.. Hopefully it's over. That's about all we can hope for."
Aspen's features morphed into a look of surprise. "I saw those.. Damn." He muttered. "You grew up with that?" He shook his head. "Didn't know he had that on his plate. Unfortunately, if you're in this business, people generally have such shitty pasts."
"Yeah… He wasn't always so… Dramatic. But a slew of fosters homes where you're treated like the scum of the earth'll do that to a person, I guess. I'd feel sorry for him, except he snapped my fingers like dried pasta and nearly electrocuted my boyfriend to death. Personally, I hope he gets shivved." She smiled dryly and shrugged, opening the package for the rice krispie, "Seems our past isn't too keen to stay put where it belongs, but like I said… we got him, so… Here's to hoping."
"Yeesh." Aspen said uncomfortably. "So, uh.. You're not out there too? Bein' a hero? Just your boyfriend's thing?" Aspen fidgeted with the bag of chips. He seemed hesitant to open it. "You seem feisty enough for the job." He snorted.
Laughing, she pulled the rice krispie out, "That's the second time someone's asked me that, today. You guys gettin' paid or something?" Taking a bite, she chewed, before shaking her head, "Not a hero, no… I dunno… I just never really thought about it, before. Guess maybe I should start…"
Confusion fell into his eyes. "I really frickin' wish I got paid." He deadpanned. "So if you like that kinda life, I guess you could think about it. You might want to consider where we are right now, however. And if you enjoy being in hospitals pretty often." He muttered. "The damn cast itches."
"What kinda life? Poor and half-dead? I mean… That's sort of where I'm at right now." Chuckling, she turned to toss her wrapper in the trash, "Still… Who knows. Right now, I'm just waiting for my guy to get better, so we can decide the next step. At any rate, hope you heal up quick, cause you do good work out there. Just maybe avoid standing too close to windows, yeah?"
"Yeah, that kinda life. Well, then you're halfway there to being a hero." He muttered. "Same to your.. Guy. And, sure. I'll be standing a little bit farther from windows." Aspen muttered awkwardly, as he turned to go.
"Take care, Aspen," She added with a nod, "Maybe I'll see ya around, out there…" Turning in the opposite direction, she gave another soft, sardonic laugh, before returning down the hallway to Fisher's room.
He was stirring, now. The steady hum of his monitor always seemed to be the first thing to greet him, and he blamed it for waking him up always, even though it wasn't loud enough to do so. He'd been gaining more consciousness each day, rather than waking up to a blurry world and going right back to sleep. It was surprising not to see Lilah right beside him, though a sleepy smile fell on his face as he saw her appear in the doorway.
"Hey," Fisher said slowly, pushing the words out. "What've you been up to?"
Leaning on the doorframe, Delilah studied him for a moment, and her lip curved up into a smile as she took him in. Every time he woke, she was reminded that he was alive, still… and that was a good thing. But she was also reminded of what he'd been through, and the pain was still all too apparent in his face.
Moving into the room, she sank into the chair beside him and reached with her good hand, for one of his, "Oh, just… wandering around our little Mole village, here. Met some pretty cool people. Did you know, My darling Trout… you're famous?"
Offering her his hand, Fisher's smile broadened. "Mm.. am I really?" He hummed. "I think I did know. But maybe I don't really like to admit it." He adjusted himself ever so slightly to look at her better. "Who did you meet?"
Chuckling, she gave his hand a squeeze, pulling it gently forward to press a kiss to the knuckles, "A woman named Willow… Works at the Glass Belly. Which I'm absolutely furious you never told me about, even if we did just sort of figure out this whole reunion thing, you and I. And… OH! Get this! Gallant. THE Gallant. How cool is that? Busted his leg getting chucked out a window, but man… He's pretty cool."
His eyes were glazed over in a drugged haze, but that didn't stop the smile on his face from blooming just as he listened. "Mmm.." He finally murmured, closing his eyes to gather a response. "Willow's nice. Dunno why you needed to know about the Belly. 'S a nice place." He mumbled, nose turning in disgust at the sound of Gallant's name. "Don't hang around that asshole," Fisher whined, though it was more comical than anything. "But it's nice to know he's stuck here too. Heh. Chucked out a window." Fisher echoed.
"Hey, now… He might have bad choices in snacks, and he's definitely not the charming shining armor sort the news makes him out to be, but that's harsh." Smiling, she leaned forward, "And if you're not gonna tell me about your superhero friends, Fish, all I can do is… figure it out, myself."
Fish groaned. "He's not my friend." He insisted. "We're rivals! It's cool to have a rival. Don't poke around too hard, pleaaaase. I've done embarrassing crap in my time here, pleaaaaaaase."
"A rival? Please tell me that's part of the superhero oath you guys take. That you have to have a rival." Her laugh echoed again, this time brighter than it had been in a while, "Oh… See… You shouldn't have said that, because now I need to go poke some more. What sort of embarrassing crap??"
Fisher wined and turned his head the other. "Nothing. And don't go askin'. I've been a modest hero all my life -- no -- no.. no wait." Fisher's brows scrunched. "For.. some years. And I haven't done nuthin' embarrassing. Ever."
"Fisher Hawkins… I will ask." She gave him a look, one he'd know meant business, though it was curved by the touch of a smile as she sat back in her chair, "...Hell… I'll go ask Gallant, out there. He can't have gotten far, hobbling on that crutch."
"No!" Fisher exclaimed, and coughed a little bit afterwards from the effort. "Don't you dare. My carefully crafted rivalry.." He brought a hand to his forehead. "Alright.. Alright. Willow's old pub.." Fisher leaned in and whispered. "I accidentally set a fire in it."
"..You…" Staring at him, Delilah bit back a look of pure enjoyment, a brow raised, "You set fire… to Willow's pub? How do you manage the things you do, Fish? It's incredible, honestly."
He giggled softly. "Okay, it wasn't totally me, but like.. I made this girl mad, and she had fire powers, and it got messy so fast. So fast. And it wasn't Willow's yet, but I'm totally the reason she got her own place. So that's good."
"Oh… There's more to this story. I just know it." Grinning, now, Delilah pulled her knees up to her chest, leaning her chin against then, "How did you piss her off bad enough that she tried to roast you? Better yet… how do you even make anyone mad? I didn't think that was possible…"
"Well I was very drunk." He stated. "Very drunk, and I was playing darts, and I threw one in her.. Er.. general direction. But I think she just took the liberty of saying I threw it at her head. And my drunk butt, you know, didn't let it go." Fisher mumbled. "I hear about her sometimes, in the news. She's around. It's weird."
"Oh my God… Who are you! All this time…" Laughing again, she shook her head, "Here I am, thinking you're this lost sheep who needs protecting. But you're out there, throwing darts at girl's heads and burning down pubs. Fisher Hawkins… you fiend."
"I was just drunk, okay! I'm not that bad, I swear. I swear, Lil. Don't be mad." He sighed. "I was all over the place. I really was."
Leaning forward again, she took his hand and with a small, soft sigh, she kissed the back on his hand, "...Fish… Baby. Did you forget already, how I was basically a drug mule for gangsters? If I were mad at you, I'd be a pretty hypocrite. I kind of like it, honestly. Fisher's dark side. Never saw it coming."
He smiled up at her with a little laugh, a very airy one that he had perfected these past days that allowed little to no movement, therefore, no pain. "Yeah.. I might've forgotten, maybe. But it doesn't really matter to me. 'Cause you're you." He squeezed her hand.
"And you're you… Which is the only thing I need you to be." Resting her forehead on his hand, she closed her eyes for a moment, "...How are you feeling?"
"Mostly numb," Fisher mumbled. "Don't worry about it. What about your hand?"
"I think I can actually feel a few of them, today." She said with a small, dry chuckle, "Getting there, anyway. Willow wants you to stop by the pub, by the way… when you're feeling up for it. Maybe it's not a bad idea. Getting on your feet again, soon."
He took in a breath. "I dunno. She'll kick my ass back to bed." He smiled weakly. "When Doc tells me to get up, I'll get up. Right now, though.. I'm not so sure."
"She did mention something about ass kicking… But if you're throwing darts at her patrons, I'm not sure I can blame her." Smiling slyly, Delilah shrugged, "...Not sure physically… or not sure mentally? Cause I can definitely understand both, but I can only help you through the one."
His eyes darted across the room. "Both." He murmured, quietly, almost ashamed. "It's.. it's.. Safe here. And I know that he's gone, that we got him.. But it's still.. safe here."
"It is… And that's okay, for now. When you're ready, Fish… we'll get back out there. You take as long as you need, okay?" Sitting up a little straighter, she smirked, "But just know… The longer we're down here, the more of those absolutely adorable Knockout stories are gonna come out."
He gave that airy laugh again and rolled his eyes, his gaze falling on their intertwined fingers as he fell momentarily silent. "Thank you.. for staying with me." Her murmured, looking up at her with a gentle smile.
"Where else would I go, Fish?" The smile softened, her eyes meeting his, "My whole world's right in this room. You told me you never wanted to leave, I'd make myself right at home here, and not miss one second of what I had before. So take your time. I'm not going anywhere…"
He smiled at her lovingly, drowsiness already creeping into his gaze. He could hardly stay awake in those short intervals. Doc would eventually have to ease up the painkillers. But he didn't dare let go over her hand, because with it he knew that come what may, they would get through it together.
"Get some rest, Fish. I'll be right here when you wake up." Her smile twitched to something teasing and she shrugged, "Unless I wander off to hear more embarrassing stories. We'll see…"