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Scott soared across the sky, soaking in the cool air of the night as the wind blew on his face, running an invisible hand through his hair and tousling it. It would be a pain to comb out whenever he decided to return to his house, but in the moment, it felt positively wonderful.
It was late. Really late. The moon was high in the sky and the few stars that were visible through the light pollution had begun to shine, twinkling like tiny diamonds sewn across pitch black silk. It was quiet, up there in the clouds, far above the tops of even the tallest skyscraper, but down below, the city was as alive as ever.
Cars… buses… bicycles… people… All of them mingled down on the streets in a chaotic dance, all trying to traverse the same, narrow spaces without hitting one another. Some would succeed and make it home safely, but for others, this night would end in tragedy. Which was which didn’t particularly matter to Scott.
If any of those tiny little people looked up now, they’d be able to see a blurry streak of blue, white and gold, and their hearts would fill with fear. After all, there were very few reasons the ice king himself, one of the top villains, Smajor, would be out and about at this time of night.
They might wonder what he was up to, or if they should report their findings to the police. Scott hoped they didn’t, because dealing with police when he wasn’t even out for blood would just be an inconvenience he did not have the patience to deal with.
No, he wasn’t out flying under the cover of darkness for any nefarious purpose. Truth be told, he just… couldn’t sleep. He was all jittery, the nightmares having made their return a few days ago, and he hadn’t gotten three hours of uninterrupted rest since.
Flying was an escape. It was something that calmed his rattled nerves, smoothed his ruffled feathers, and slowed his racing mind. Not that it was racing for any reason in particular at the moment, which just made it all the more annoying.
Allowing his head to droop for a moment, Scott simply observed the landscape below him with a bored expression. He was sufficiently soothed now, and could probably return home, but the thought of being in that house, with its open floor plan that still felt too closed, the walls completely boxing him in on all sides, was unbearable. He hated closed spaces.
He was reaching the center of the city, now, where the buildings stood the tallest. Scott was mildly surprised that he had flown this far in such a short amount of time, considering he lived near the very edge of city limits.
It was by design, since nobody attacked the edge of the city. There was no publicity in it, since the outer limits were mostly broken down and shabby and had rotten security as it was. Most villains were either in it for the attention, or for domination, and either way, attacking the outer rim was never a good move to further that goal.
In a car, with all the traffic clogging the streets, it could take hours to get from where he lived to where he was now. But up in the air, where there were no obstructions, it seemed he moved faster than any locomotive on the ground, regardless that he was moving at a leisurely pace.
He scanned the flat rooftops, curious to see if anyone was out stargazing. There wasn’t much to see, but a few college students who were studying astronomy or astrology or whatever it was were still up, looking through their telescopes. Scott took care to avoid where the lenses were pointed to prevent detection.
Overall, nothing really remarkable. Until-
On one particular rooftop, a single figure sat, gazing out at the horizon. His arms rested on the parapet, and his head in his arms, completely motionless. He had golden hair, and was wearing an odd outfit, the details of which Scott were too far away to see properly, made of a mixture of greens and browns, and there was some sort of bronze covering over his face, and-
Wait a minute-
Was that Solidarity!?
Scott did a double take, faltering for a second as he was taken off guard and nearly dropping out of the sky, though he quickly righted himself. He screeched to a halt mid-air, wings flapping to keep him afloat now that he was no longer gliding, and stared down in disbelief.
Sure enough, it was the little hero himself, sitting with his knees folded under him and his shoulders sagging.
What in the name of Aeor was he doing out here at this time of night?
Patrolling? No, that couldn’t be right. The Alliance had a strict schedule for who patrolled when and at what time, and Solidarity was almost always with the Empress. Scratch that- not almost. Scott couldn’t think of a single time when he wasn’t right by her side. So, for some reason, he was in the central most part of the city, not on patrol, by himself.
The cod-hybrid hero, known to the public as the Codfather but to literally anyone who interacted with him on a regular basis as Solidarity (something he could only assume was some sort of inside joke Scott was not privy to), was a fairly recent addition to the playing field, at least in comparison to the rest of the members of the Alliance.
He had appeared a few years after the Empress herself, and as far as anyone could tell seemed to have a toned down version of her hydrokinesis, and none of her control over the weather. Most of the major villains of the city dismissed him as a weak and stupid sidekick who was hopelessly naive, but Scott wasn’t nearly so foolish.
There was something so very special about Solidarity, something Scott had a feeling was overlooked even by his fellow heroes.
For one thing, he was clever. He didn’t have the brute strength or the raw power of his mentor and older sister, so he had to rely on his surroundings and his own wits to handle situations she could easily smash her way through. His solutions could get impressively creative, and had ended with Scott getting soaked to the bone more than once.
For another, he was… probably one of the most genuinely open people Scott had ever met. Not that there was much competition when most of the people he knew and interacted with were villains, but the hero especially wore his heart on his sleeve. Personally, Scott thought it was going to get him killed one day, but even he, however grudgingly, found it admirable, and a surprisingly daring move.
Scott was almost reminded of Pacifica when he looked at Solidarity. Both were soft spoken, emotional, and often underestimated individuals with a hidden strength not many looked close enough to see. But Solidarity carried with him a level of energy and courage that Pacifica could never match. (No offense to Pacifica, of course, he loved the girl to bits, but she was timid. )
Scott couldn’t often say that he enjoyed fighting against a hero. He liked the fight itself, usually, but he found the heroes he’d been facing off against had been a bit lackluster lately. Sometimes it just felt more annoying than anything.
Solidarity was the exception. He was intriguing, drawing Scott’s attention from the moment they first locked eyes on the battlefield. Many of the other heroes remained stoic and unphased by his taunts. The vigilantes were usually a bit more enjoyable, with both the Wolf Spirit and Redstone even deigning to taunt him back, but no one reacted like Solidarity did.
He was so easy to rile up it was laughable, and oddly adorable with the way the uncovered lower half of his face would turn such a lovely shade of pink at every little remark. Scott did enjoy flirting from time to time, but with Solidarity, even he could admit it was a bit excessive.
Something about Solidarity just drew him to make tease after tease, just to see him blush once more, and stumble over his words as he tried and failed to form a coherent response.
And he would admit, he may have blown him a kiss once or twice, but it wasn’t like it was anything serious. It was just a fun game he liked to play with the hero, to see how long it would take this time before he was as red as a tomato. And how long he could milk it before the Empress broke her No Kill Code specifically to skewer him with her giant ass trident.
Scott felt the edges of his lips curl into a grin at the thought. The Empress wasn’t here now. Here was the Codfather, all by his lonesome, with no big sister in sight to defend him. This was going to be fun.
He dove towards the roof sharply and suddenly, knowing his impending arrival was completely silent despite the wind roaring in his ears. At the last second, he flared out his wings and slowed his descent, touching down on both his feet and immediately sinking into a squat to absorb the impact.
Solidarity’s delicate ear-fin twitched, and he flinched slightly- the only two indications he heard Scott’s landing- but he didn’t turn around. Scott straightened, lifting his chin and staring down at the other super on the roof, a smirk gracing his features.
“Well, well well. What do we have here?” He purred, taking a few steps closer lazily. He swayed from side to side with his thumbs hooked on the waistband of his pants, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Hello Solidarity. Where’s the big bad Empress? I thought you never went anywhere without her protection.”
The Codfather flinched again, shoulders raising slightly, but he didn’t say anything.
“Surely she wouldn’t let her poor little sidekick come all the way out here all by himself.” Scott continued, his tone dipping into mocking. He stopped right behind Solidarity, leaning over him and placing one hand down on the parapet to keep steady. Solidarity looked up at him, but once again didn’t say anything, instead just looking back down with a huff.
Scott felt a flicker of irritation, and clenched his fist. “What, not going to say anything?” He sneered. “What’s the matter, catfish got your tongue?”
Solidarity sucked in a long breath, and Scott felt a peel of satisfaction as he saw him fighting to keep… what he thought was anger from bubbling (ha) up. But then he just released a sigh, and sank down even further, like he was trying to melt into a puddle on the floor.
“Not now, Smajor.” He said, burying his face in his arms. Scott straightened, taken off guard, and took a few steps back. He’d never heard Solidarity, for all of his hidden fire, sound so… dejected. He wasn’t prepared for that.
He was ready for Solidarity to respond with some variation of “fuck off,” or to try to attack him, or even just turn red from embarrassment. But the hero sounded… tired. And not just because it was late.
Scott felt, for some inexplicable reason, concerned.
Bleh.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, sliding down to sit next to Solidarity, whose head snapped up to meet Smajor’s eyes. Scott couldn’t see any part of the upper half of Solidarity’s face, but he could feel the shock radiating off of him.
“...What?” Scott wondered idly what color Solidarity’s eyes were. He would bet money they were green, or blue like his sister’s.
He was an objectively attractive person, Scott could tell even if he’d never seen his entire face. Whatever their hue, they were probably as pretty as the rest of him. They were also probably as wide as dinner plates right now.
“I asked you what’s wrong.” Scott repeated, reaching out with one hand and tilting Solidarity’s chin up. Even sitting, he was still a good bit taller than the hero, and he honestly didn’t know if that said more about his or Solidarity’s height.
For a solid few seconds, Solidarity just stared, stock still, before pulling his chin away from Scott’s grip. Scott let him go with no resistance, his smirk returning as he caught a glimpse of pink on the other’s face.
“Like I’d tell you.” Solidarity snorted, leaning away from Scott, who offered a crooked grin in return.
“Well, you don’t have to. If you’d rather sit here in awkward silence for however long you decide to keep on moping, I’m down for that too.” He joked, resting his head on his hand and setting his elbow down on the wall. Solidarity looked back over him, lips twisted into a scowl.
“Leave me alone.” He snapped, shoving Scott’s shoulder and scooting to the side to put more distance between the two of them. He turned away, crossing his arms, which was dumb because now he was showing his back to one of his most frequent opponents, who could easily take advantage of such vulnerability, and it just came off as petulant.
Scott knew he should probably leave. He was the last person Solidarity should be talking to about whatever was bothering him. He had his sister, plus all of his hero friends. He didn’t need Scott.
But none of them are here right now. A voice whispered in the back of his head. You are.
Mind made up, Scott leaned back casually. “Mmm… Nah.” He said, and that was the last thing spoken for a while. True to Scott’s word, they just… sat there, in complete silence, nothing but the vague ambience of late night traffic and drunk drivers from far down below surrounding them.
Scott could see Solidarity getting more and more tense by the second. His hands were gripping his forearms so tightly his knuckles had gone white, and they were starting to shake, though Scott couldn’t say if it was from cold, fear, or… something else.
After about five minutes, a choked-off noise escaped Solidarity’s throat, strangled as he tried and failed to suppress it in time. And just like that, it was like the flood gates had been opened.
All of a sudden, Solidarity broke down sobbing, his shoulders trembling as he gasped and hiccuped into his hands. He tried to swipe at the tears that leaked out of his mask and streamed down his chin, dripping onto his costume, but more kept coming, replacing whatever was brushed away.
Scott froze. He’d known Solidarity was upset, but not… cry worthy upset! He didn’t know how to handle emotions, he was a supervillain!
“Woah- hey, what- what happened?” Scott reached out a hand, but thought better of it, pulling it back and opting to move slightly closer.
“N-nothing! Just go away!” Solidarity cried, swatting a hand at Scott that went wide. His voice was thick with emotion, and he sniffled. “Why do you even care? ”
That- was… a good question. Why did Scott care? The Codfather was his enemy. He didn’t know him, they never interacted outside of when they fought. What did it matter to Scott that he was crying?
He racked his brain, trying to think of a reason, and couldn’t find an answer. Just that, for whatever reason, he did.
Scott shrugged helplessly, and sighed. “Just… tell me what’s wrong?” He asked, his voice turning dangerously close to pleading.
Solidarity looked at him again, mouth pinched. His lip quivered, and Scott could see his resolve chipping away. He could tell the exact moment when he finally caved, right before he started ranting.
“It’s just- I’ve had a really, really bad day. This morning I woke up late because I forgot to charge my phone and my alarm didn’t go off. And when I tried to pour a cup of coffee I missed the cup entirely and burned my hand. Then, on my way to work, I tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and face planted on the cement. So I had both a burn and a giant bruise, and to make matters worse, I ran into the Rose Twins literally two minutes later and they made fun of me for it. Well- it was mostly Redstone, Amethyst just kind of watched. ”
Solidarity paused, sucking in a deep breath that didn’t seem to do anything to help calm him down. Scott just frowned sympathetically, and nodded along. He didn’t know what to say, and he had a feeling Solidarity wasn’t done.
He was proven right a moment later.
“Of course, Ka- Faerie was able to fix it up for me, but then the Empress demanded to know why I didn’t tell her about it and she got really fussy and overprotective like she always does whenever I get hurt. It doesn’t even matter if it was life threatening or not, I could get a papercut and she’d still freak out. And then we fought Mythical and he kept targeting me for some reason. And- and then, when the fight was over, a reporter called me Empress’s sidekick again.”
Scott winced. Empress always insisted to everyone that would listen that the Codfather was her partner, not her sidekick. She was really pissy about it too, as Scott had learned the hard way. He’d been out of commission for weeks the first time he made that mistake in front of her.
Solidarity let out a long breath, rolling his head to the side. His breathing had started to even out a little as he continued talking, though the tears didn’t stop coming. In fact, they started to come down with a little more intensity.
“I mean- I- I get it. I’m not as powerful or as famous as she is, I’m newer, I’m younger, I’m less experienced, it’s an easy assumption to make. But then the Empress got really angry at the reporter and she made a scene out of it and started cursing him out and I just- I couldn’t take it anymore. I came out here because I wanted to be alone , but then you showed up.” He finished, dragging a hand down his face.
There was nothing but quiet for a few moments after he finished his tirade, because really, what was there to say? That was… a lot.
Scott understood. He really, really did. Everyone had those days where the little things just kept building up, so that all it took was one little thing to tip them over. And with supers, it tended to be even worse, because on top of normal, everyday inconveniences, they had to deal with the absolute fuckery that was other supers.
Except Scott tended to react with anger and usually took it out on whatever building was closest to him, not with… an emotional breakdown. He didn’t know how to deal with that.
“...Wow.” He said eventually, forcing an awkward laugh. “Sounds pretty shitty.”
Solidarity made a weird noise, looking at Scott like he was crazy. Which was a totally valid assumption.
But then he snorted, and a small, pained laugh came out of his mouth. “Shitty is an understatement.”
Scott swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
Solidarity sighed. “It’s not your fault.” Scott thought he heard a muttered “for once” under his breath, but politely didn’t say anything. Because he was nice like that.
They lapsed into silence once more, an emotionally charged buzz hanging around them. It was suffocating.
Scott tried desperately to think of a topic change, anything to get away from feelings. He coughed into his hand, refusing to meet the hero’s eyes as his gaze turned on him curiously.
“So, you and Empress seem pretty close.” Oh yeah, just go ahead and state the obvious, like that wasn’t the perfect setup for even more embarrassment.
But a tiny smile formed on Solidarity’s face, which Scott took as a win.
“Yeah, she’s my big sister, so I hope we would be. I mean- you probably know that, everyone knows that, our duo name is literally the Storm Siblings. ” He laughed quietly, something sad in his eyes. “Except, she’s always been more of a mother to me than anything.”
Ooh, and wasn’t that just an emotional minefield if Scott ever heard one. Still, he was too curious- or perhaps foolish, he wasn’t sure- for his own good, so he bit the bullet.
“What happened to your actual mother?” He immediately regretted the question from the way Solidarity tensed up again. And he had just been starting to relax- Aeor damnit, Scott, why are you so incompetent-
“Dead. She was a hero; killed in combat when I was just a baby. Our dad was killed the same day while trying to put out a fire too close to the fight. It’s just been me and L-Empress for as long as I can remember.” Oooooh, Scott really regretted asking. Solidarity was smiling, but there was a tension to it that made Scott wish his powers included some sort of time traveling ability specifically so he could go back and keep his damn mouth shut.
“Oh. Sorry.” Shut up shut up shut up, idiot. You’re going to make it worse.
“You didn’t know.” Solidarity shrugged, waving him off like his grief was nothing, like he didn’t just drop a life’s worth of trauma onto one of his worst enemies.
…Well, he’d shared his tragic backstory, so it was only fair…
“...I was raised by Xornoth.” He admitted, some small amount of anger rising just by even mentioning the other villain’s name. Solidarity’s head snapped up, jaw dropping ever so slightly.
“What!?” He exclaimed incredulously.
“Yeah. My parents died when I was really little, too. I don’t remember much about them, but I don’t think they were very good people. Xornoth told me they were both villains, like us.” Scott had never told anyone this before. He didn’t know why he was choosing to share it now, and especially with…
“Wow… I’m sorry.” Solidarity replied, and it sounded genuine. Scott smiled a smile he really didn’t believe in, and had a feeling Solidarity didn’t believe in either.
“Eh, what’re you gonna do?” He asked nonchalantly, like didn’t bother him in the slightest. Solidarity looked like he had something he wanted to say, but was debating whether or not it was a good idea to say it, chewing on his thumbnail. Scott sighed internally, already preparing for whatever was going to come out of the hero’s mouth next. “What?”
Solidarity startled, like he hadn’t expected Scott to say anything else, before returning to looking hesitant. “...If you don’t mind me asking… If Xornoth raised you, why aren’t you two close anymore? How come you hate them so much?”
Scott felt his mood sour instantly, hatred and disgust burning through him in equal measure. He shoved away the part of him that felt sad over the question; he didn’t want to feel bad about what happened between him and Xornoth.
“...It’s complicated.” He replied vaguely.
“Ah.”
Scott snorted. “Siblings, am I right?”
Solidarity nodded solemnly. There was another pause, before Scott started speaking again.
“Truth be told, I never wanted to become a villain. I just… didn’t want to end up fighting with my brother.” He bared his teeth and turned away. “Load of good that did us.” he hissed to himself.
“If… you didn’t want to, why are you still one now?” Solidarity asked, and oh, there was the million dollar question. It was something he’d thought about many times, and really, it all boiled down to two things. The biggest reason was because… well, at this point, he didn’t think redemption was an option. Not with the stunts he’d pulled. And besides…
“I guess I like the freedom it gives me. I get to do what I want, when I want, just because I want to. No one is bossing me around anymore, giving me orders and scolding me when I mess up. I can just be me.” He grinned again.
Solidarity tilted his head to the side. “You could still have that as a hero.”
Scott shook his head. “I really couldn’t. Heroes have to obey the law, and they have to make sure whatever they do is purely good and fits what the public expects. Villains may be hated, but the way I see it, that just means we don’t have to worry about our reputations all the time.”
Solidarity made a soft “Huh.” He looked contemplative.
“I… never thought about it that way.” He admitted. Scott made a flippant gesture.
“Not many do. It’s one of the only perks of being on just about everyone in the country’s shit list.”
The comment obviously caught Solidarity off guard, because he was silent for a moment, and then burst out laughing. Scott felt his smile widen, and he reached out to set one hand on Solidarity’s cheek. The superhero froze, cutting off suddenly, probably just as aware as Scott was that from this position, Scott could easily lift up his mask and see his face.
“Aha, there it is.” He said in a low, teasing voice.
“There what is?” Solidarity asked, suddenly wary. Scott almost wanted to laugh, but that wouldn’t be well received at all. After all, he was tempted. Part of him did want to know what the hero looked like underneath. He wanted to know what color those eyes were.
“That laugh of yours. You completely forgot about being upset just now, didn’t you?” He said instead, removing his hand and tucking it behind him. Solidarity straightened, surprised, and brought a hand to his chin, pointer finger resting on his lower lip thoughtfully.
“Huh… I guess I did.” He laughed again. “...Thanks.”
Scott said nothing, just patted the spot next to him. The Codfather moved closer, until they were right up against one another, at which point Scott wrapped a wing around his shoulder. Solidarity didn’t even react to it.
They stayed there for a while, the silence no longer empty or unbearable, but almost… companionable. They stared up at the sky, a million things left unsaid, but neither of them made the move to say them. Perhaps it was better that way. After all, the next time they saw one another, it would be back to being foes on opposing sides. Scott wouldn’t be surprised if they both mutually agreed to never speak of this night again.
But right there, in the moment? He didn’t care. He liked having Solidarity near him, liked the feeling of his body pressed up against his.
After a while, who knew how long it had really been, Scott felt a weight on his shoulder. He craned his neck to look down, and saw that Solidarity had fallen asleep on him. On Smajor. His enemy. Who if he so chose to, could do anything he wanted to the hero before he could even think to fight back. He could kidnap him and hold him hostage against his sister. He could kill him; slit his throat right here, leave his dead body for someone else to find.
It was what some people might argue he should have done. At the very least, he should have left Solidarity right then and there, laid him on the concrete of the roof and gone back home, where things made sense. Where he knew who was his friend and who was not, where his heart didn’t jump to his throat every time he looked down at the person who apparently trusted him enough to fall asleep on him.
But he did none of these things. Instead, Scott pulled his wing in a little closer, smiled softly at the dozing hero, and went back to staring at the starry sky.