Fighting Fire with Fire

"I'll heal up in no time, I just-- I-I don't wanna be here alone, you know? Someone could find me and see the mask and I... I really ain't in the right way to even move right now, let alone try and hide the mask and stuff-- ad fuck you, these cupcakes cost me a bomb. It's a waste of ten fucking pounds," he grumbled, albeit with his own playfulness. It did distract from the pain he felt right about now. He wasn't immune to pain, but he always thought and believed that he couldn't actually be stabbed or shot. Clearly, that was idiotically cocky of him, given he was now bleeding heavily and waiting for the wound to heal over. "Can't you hurry up on that fuckin' skateboard, like... c'mon dude..."
 
"Not my fault you decided to take the car," he reminded, though did hurry his pace as quickly as possible. Skillfully swerving out of the cars, he didn't fear much. After all, if he was fully prepared to be hit by a car at any point. "Look, just... don't pass out. It's bad enough I have to nurse you back to health."

As he moved down the hill, narrowly avoiding being crashed by a few pedestrians or cars, he did slow down once approaching the church. Searching around the thing warily, he did grow cautious. Unlike Brandon, he wasn't going to heal quickly. If this mysterious man emerged to stab him, he'd be fucked. So, with his guard up, he did silently thank whatever higher being there was once finally spotting Brandon. Grimacing in disgust, he hurried over to assess the damage.

"Jesus, he hit you right in the kidney, didn't he?" He questioned, before helping the man up carefully. "You owe me big time for this. Look, I'll... give me the mask, I'll put it in the bag. Jacket, too. I don't want some cop seeing you like this."
 
The first thing Brandon did wasn't to hurriedly hand him the mask and the jacket, despite that being the priority. No, instead, the injured teen shot the other a grin and, once grabbing his cheeks, held him into a long kiss. He wasn't aware that Skyler had thought about letting him suffer and potentially die if the wound hadn't healed quick enough. In his eyes, he called on Skyler to help and the boy had rushed out to help him which, despite the brief hesitation, was what had happened, and it was enough for Brandon to fall for Skyler a hell of a lot more.

"...Got some blood on 'ya, sorry 'bout that," he smiled, using his thumb to carefully wipe away the smear of blood he'd gotten on the other's cheek, before finally handing over the signature mask and jacket as slowly as he could. The wound was healing slowly, but one abrupt move could undo the process completely. "I ain't getting on your skateboard, just... I'll be alright, it's healing slowly, I just-- lemme put your jacket on. I can't walk about in a bloody t-shirt. We ain't that different in size, dude, it'll fit me."
 
Blushing in response of the passionate kiss, he let out a flustered snort as he peered down to fully observe just how much blood had actually stained the other. Shimmying off his favorite jacket, he helped Brandon into it before propping him up just a tad against the skateboard. He knew better than to fling him over his shoulder or whatever, and instead moved to sit besides the other carefully.

"You're a real dunce, you know that? Can you be a bit more careful the next time you decide to get stabbed?" He whispered, before moving to wipe some of the blood from the other's arms with his black sweatshirt. He then turned his gaze to the fallen cupcakes, before offering a smile. "You sure I can't pop you on the board and push you off gurney style?"
 
"Nah, pal, I can't get stabbed. The guy who stabbed me can't have been, like, human-- or at least isn't normal, y'know? Which is a fucking scary thought-- I know who it was. Fuck. It's that other guy, ain't it? The faceless masked guy. I told you he was gonna find a way to hurt me! Dunno how he fucking managed it, mind, but... it can't have been a normal guy, Sky," he grumbled, scooping the only remaining intact cupcake out of the packet, only to break it in half to share with his boyfriend. He had bought them to share with him, after all, and while this wasn't the romantic, cute setting he thought h would share them in, it was better than nothing.

"Just when I thought I was gonna find the guy and talk to him, he goes and does this. Like, fuck him, right? I-I swear, I'm gonna hurt for a few days, but after that, I'm gonna kick his fuckin' ass... somehow, I dunno how yet," he laughed, resting quietly against his boyfriend's side. "...I let all those guys go, unhurt. I didn't get the cash, but you can take as much from the apartment as you need, 'kay? For your mum and stuff."
 
"I don't think he would stoop that low," Skyler reassured, while carefully pushing the other' hair back and wipe the sweat with a grimace. "You're the one who likes to blow shit up, don't you think he would have killed you by now? Hey... maybe he's the superhero this town needs, yeah? How fucked up would that be?"

Sitting up a tad, he gratefully nibbled on the collapsed cupcake, ignoring the fact it smeared on his fingers. "Hey, maybe the guy'll feel bad for you? Give ya' sympathy. You look pretty defeated, babe."
 
"I could still challenge him, even with an injury like this-- and of course it was him. Holy fuck, I told 'ya. Nobody else could have, like... nobody could have hurt me, it had to be someone who ain't normal, and it had to be someone who hates me. That guy detests me. Course it was him," he confidently declared, though the doubt in his tone was palpable. The only real time the other villain had hurt him was when he shot him in the back, and the bullet had only left a bruise. He did doubt that Skyler could have learnt how to hurt him in a matter of days, but that left the realisation that there was someone out there with the ability to hurt Brandon, and who apparently wanted to see him dead, too. That was terrifying.

"If it ain't him, I hope he gets hurt too, 'cos it ain't fair if I'm the only one targeted, unless he's working with someone. I dunno, pal, I... I've obviously pissed someone off, huh?
 
"Emphasis on the blowing up thing," he reminded, and snuck an arm around the other carefully. Staring up at the church, he pursed his lips in contemplation. Offering the other a quick kiss on the forehead, he let out a weary sigh.

"Hey, I'm gonna go out tonight. Do some research on this all, okay? I can talk to your teachers to explain why you miss classes... though that should be your job. I'll do it anyway, though, alright?" He murmured, and glanced down at the wound. Noticing that the leading at stopped at least, he glanced up and offered a grin. "I may not be some super cool villain, but I've got my own skills."
 
"What research-- don't bother trying to find the asshole, alright? He hasn't bothered turning up to anything I've done the last two nights-- I don't think he stabbed me, but fuck, that means he hasn't done shit lately. Either he's run off to another part of London, or he's planning something big, and... that kinda scares me. I'm just some loser kid having fun, y'know? That other guy's, like, seriously psycho. He plans shit out," he babbled, a little delirious from the amount of blood he'd lost, and from the general shock of bleeding out for a few hours straight. "What are you gonna do? Anythin' I can help with?"
 
"Yeah, you can help by getting proper rest." He replied simply, while sinking a bit into the curb. "I'll be fine. If I get held hostage, I know you'll find a way to come help me, yeah? I'll fuck the guy up, if I need to."

Shooting the other a grin, he offered to rest his head on the man's and closed his eyes. "You gave me a mighty fright, you know that? What if I had a heart attack? Then what? You'd be bleeding out on the street and I'll be dead in the apartment. I would have never been able to get these delicious cupcakes."
 
"Wait, you're not sick, are 'ya? Like, you ain't got a dodgy heart? 'Cos I'll pay for the best medical care if you need that. I mean, it's free, y'know, but private healthcare is probably better, and... and I can't have you dying on me. Where else am I gonna find a bloke who not only fucking likes me, but actually understands me and... like... I dunno, you're a fucking nutter for liking me, but I'm odd too, so we're kinda a great match," he admitted, turning to support the other a little more, even if his side was aching. The bleeding had stopped, and the wound had pretty much closed at this point, but it was bruising badly and he knew he was going to walk with a limp for a while to accommodate it.

"I... I can walk now, I'm alright. I just wanna get back to the dorm and crash out watching some movies, y'know? Maybe I'll have time to do an assignment or somethin'."
 
"Not a bad heart, but shit lungs. I have terrible asthma, actually. Sort of embarrassing, to be honest," he explained, while carefully helping the other to his feet. Snatching the skateboard, he set it in his bag and took out the emergency inhaler in return. "See? The thing is huge and clunky, but it fucks me up bad. Skateboarding is, like, the only physical activity I can do without getting winded and go into full attack. Once, I was cleaning out our attic and I had an attack because of dust."

Scoffing in disgust with himself, he tossed the inhaler back into the bag and returned to take Brandon's arm and hold his waist close for balance. It would be a good walk, sure, but it was better than just sitting in the gutter, waiting for hours. "I'll make some coffee when we get back, yeah?"
 
Now, that remark would have usually provoked some sympathy in Brandon. He probably would have pulled the other closer and gave him a few kisses, murmured that, hey, that sucked, and that he wouldn't smoke in front of him as a show of his consideration. He would have probably acted like any loving boyfriend would have done, but the comment only really made Brandon stop dead, his neutral expression fading into one of deep, rather angry contemplation.

He was brought back to that night a few days ago at the bank, where he and Skyler came face to face in a robbery. He'd set the place on fire and while he was obviously immune to the smoke, he distinctly remembered the other masked villain spluttering and coughing. While that was only expected from anyone that wasn't Brandon, he did remember Skyler's alter fiddling in his pocket for the inhaler. Sure, plenty of people had asthma... but he did find it slightly odd that his boyfriend shared the condition with the other villain, especially when he added into the equation the fact that Skyler hadn't really reacted with horror when Brandon admitted who he was. Hell, Skyler had suggested joining in and helping Brandon with a few schemes. That was hardly... normal, was it?

"...Where do you keep your mask, then? I mean, maybe I'm talking bullshit, but maybe we should head back to the dorm and search the place, because I fucking think I'll find a mask hidden somewhere, y'know? Sure, I'm probably disorientated and talking shit, but... you do have the same accent as that faceless guy, y'know? He's Northern Irish too. Strange, that."
 
Glancing over to Brandon, Skyler's expression remained still, though he was internally kicking himself. It was probably a stupid move, he knew that, but he was hoping that it was a common enough condition that Brandon wouldn't make the connections. Plenty of people had asthma, and why couldn't there be another Northern Irish man with the condition. He remained quiet for a moment as he led the other down the street, before letting out a long sigh in disappointment.

"... I'll show you, sure." He murmured, deciding that there was no reason to not be honest. "I was trying to figure out a way to explain to you, who I was, but I couldn't think of it. You seemed so eager to shoot me, so... Hey, I guess that proves that I didn't stab you last night."
 
Once hearing the confirmation, Brandon scoffed and moved to lean against the wall, one hand clutching his side and the other holding a cigarette that he lit up without use of a lighter, figuring that nobody would notice something so menial. Besides, he'd lost the capacity to care what people thought of him at the moment, and he lost the capacity to give a shit about Skyler, hence why he was bothering to smoke in such a close proximity to him.

"You're fuckin' lucky I've been stabbed, because I swear to god, I'd have thrown you to the ground and broken your fuckin' jaw otherwise," he pointed out with a less than friendly glare, taking in a deep mouthful of smoke before exhaling it out again, trying to clear his mind and keep calm... though how calm could you be when finding out your boyfriend was the one person you wanted to see dead most in the world?

"...What is this, a game? Like, get me vulnerable and then, like, make fun of me for it? Or do you wanna take my cash, 'cos I've offered that to 'ya, so you didn't need to use me or anythin'. You're a fucking sadistic bastard, ain't 'ya? I actually liked you, that's the sad thing-- I'm an idiot, clearly. You're actually... you're psychotic, you need help."
 
Coughing hard into his sleeve, he kept his face stoic as he let the other rant off. Clearing his throat, he folded his arms slowly and eyed the other, only to purse his lips tight. Waving the smoke away, he eventually moved to look at the streetlamp, then back onto the street as people passed by, seemingly unaware of the scene.

"Don't you think that, if I wanted something bad to happen to you, I would have done it? I could have left you out here so you could get sick, but I didn't. I could have fucked up your plans, but I didn't. I... I've been thinking, to be honest. I was intending on telling you everything later tonight, but I guess my stupidity made it all happen quicker. Granted, maybe it's for the best that you found out now, so you wouldn't try and bash my skull in or something," he murmured slowly, before offering his hand. "Come on, Brandon. I'll show you where my stuff is, and I know where yours is."
 
"Yeah, but this is all part of your fucking sick scheme, ain't it? You're planning something and I'm gonna look like the fool at the end of it-- I don't trust you. Why the fuck would I?! You got close to me, you're acting like you like me, and then I'll go along with it and then, wham! I'll end up dead. It was totally you who stabbed me, just 'cos you're psycho and want to get me confused and... fuck you," he repeated again, his propensity to take everything in all in one go clearly being limited, so he resorted to swearing to try and get his anger level down. Not that it was working much - it was just getting him more irritated.

"Can you fuck off now? I can get back without you on your fuckin' trendy skateboard with your hipster snapback. Just-- I'm gonna go to my apartment and move all my fuckin' stuff before you can break in and take it all one night."
 
"I didn't stab you. I don't know who did, nor do I know how. This... This was never about killing you, Brandon. I needed the money, that's the whole reason I'm doing this shit. Yeah, it's fun to fuck around with you, but I have no intentions of killing you. If I did, all of our fun would end, you know? Look, I liked you before I even knew who you were, yeah? You can't do the same for me?" He asked, clearly growing weary as he waited for the other to finish his rant.

"What do I have to do to make you trust me? You can look at the security cameras of your place, I never left last night. I actually got a pretty good night's sleep. I didn't stab you, and... I'm glad you let the captors go."
 
"It ain't as fun now I know who you are, actually. Can't you, like, move to another university, 'cos this a buzzkill. I used to like, y'know, fucking with you. It ain't as fun now I know you're you. It's boring," he grunted under his breath miserably, though at least the anger had faded into petulance, which was a sign he was coming around.

"...So you ain't planning to do some dark shit to me? And you didn't stab me? I don't really believe you but I ain't wasting time checking it out, either. I ain't got the fucking energy to do shit like that, I ain't you. You're the boring guy who plans everything out. I should have really guessed all this sooner. Your alter's a boring asshole, and you're a boring asshole. Makes sense," he shrugged, pushing himself carefully away from the wall and, after stamping out his cigarette, offered across a grin. "So what are we now? Buddies? Boyfriends? Enemies? 'Cos there's a fucking jerk out there who wants me dead, so I'd appreciate the help from you on that one, y'know?"
 
"Well, I'd love to keep dating you. It'll be pretty awkward for awhile, though," he stated simply, before offering his hand once again. "Can you put out that cigarette? That'll be the first step. Then, I'll tell you about me, how does that sound? Lastly, we'll figure out who this fucker is. I wasn't kidding when I said that this guy may be a hero. I don't want to die, and obviously, you don't want to, either. Unlike you, though, the guy won't need some special knife to kill me," he teased and offered a smile.

"Let's pick up some proper cupcakes and get back to the dorm, yeah? It's getting cold out here, and you've got my jacket."
 
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