Purify Me
Disclaimer: I do not own the movie(s) that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Title: Purity Me, part 1
Fandom: Sky High
Rating: NC-17 for violence, rape situations, and hardcore M/M sex. If not of age, or such things don't crank your knob, please read something else.
Pairing: Warren/Will
Summary: Will's first solo mission goes horrible wrong. Can Warren help him come to terms with it before disaster strikes? [Drama, angst, hurt/comfort]
Author’s Note: This story was originally published on adultfanfiction.net, in response to a challenge therein.
This is in response to Rosemary’s challenge, which I shall reproduce here:
[The plot is Will during his first official solo mission, gets attack by some super villain (make one up or one from the movie, your choice), during the time Will is kidnap tortured and raped (graphic or non, your choice). The kidnappers let him go/or he escapes, which ever he goes home and tries to hide what happened. But slowly he’s withdrawing from the world all his friends and his parents are worried about him. Anyway, finally Warren gets the story out of him, blah, blah …you can figure out the rest. (^. ^)
Rules:
(1) Has to slash, no hetero please
(2) Will has to be bottom/uke
(3) Will’s parents can’t be totally clueless idiots]
This story is tangentially related to the story War and Peace In Mind that I’m writing on FanFiction.net (and am putting on my Live Journal, slowly but surely), though it is unrelated to Heat, which I’m writing on AFF.net (and will be putting on my LJ as well... eventually). Things you need to know that I don’t otherwise explain in the story are basically when Warren powers up when he’s mad, he creates regular fire and burns stuff. When he powers up when he’s trying to help, he can heal people. Other than that everything else is explained therein. I tapped a bit of my dark side for this, you’re been warned.
I would adore any reviews that let me know what you think about, what you liked, didn't like, or what could make it better.
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“Ah, awake now Guardian? It’s such a pity you conceal your identity in the reverse. If you had been wearing a mask, I could have finally figured out who you really are. Not that it bothers me much; I just wanted to call you by your name while we play our little games. No matter, I’m sure I’ll recover from that disappointment. I won’t pry in that part of your head, never fear. I have much more interesting places in your mind to investigate.”
Will slowly tried to raise his aching head, cautiously opening his eyes. A few feet below him was a concrete floor, dimly lit from above. He tried to move, and found his hands caught up short. Fear surged through his body as he looked wildly around. His wrists and ankles were chained to some kind of metal frame held a few feet horizontally off the floor, with one metal bar running under his hips, and one under his chest. Twisting to get a closer look at his bonds, Will realized they were glowing a bright, warm white.
Power neutralizer shackles, he realized, the blood draining from his face. He tried pulling anyway, and felt the metal from the cuffs digging into his skin. He couldn’t break them, and terror began to flood through his system. Other sensations began to prick through his fear; the fact that it was cold, and there was a faint chill breeze on his naked skin. Naked skin? he thought wildly, quickly taking stock. Yes, his red, white, and blue super-suit was thrown in one dimly-lit corner, while he was chained to this metal frame, naked as a babe.
“You know struggling is useless. Even if those shackles weren’t on, the alloy they and the frame are made out of is incredibly tough. Adamantium laced with diamond; it’s nearly as impervious to damage as you are. Or were, before I turned the shackles on. I like to keep a little insurance, just in case. I’m a rather cautious fellow, and I have waited such a long time for someone like you to fall into my trap,” the aged, whining voice continued.
Will twisted again, finally spying the voice’s owner. A wizened, elderly man, short, with a slightly oversized bald head and beady yellow eyes stood in one corner. His pale, wrinkled skin was dotted with age spots, and his claw-like hands trembled very slightly as he began to walk forward. Mastermind, Will realized, recognizing him from the briefing he had gotten from the Bureau.
Mastermind gave a twisted grin as he stepped up next to the frame, his pale eyes boring into Will’s. Casually he reached out one hand and stroked Will’s ass.
“Such a tight, sweet, firm young boy,” he said cheerfully, as absolute revulsion wracked Will’s body. He tried to wrench himself away from that horrible hand, but between the tightness of the shackles and the bar under his hips, he could only flinch a few inches away.
“Don’t touch me!” he snarled, almost shaking with disgust. Mastermind only smiled wider, showing twisted and rotting teeth. Will suddenly felt someone digging in his head, and belatedly tried to strengthen his mental walls. He had no psychic powers, so the best he could do was that, but between his disorientation from being captured and his own emotions, his walls were weak. There was an almost audible crumble as his walls broke, and Mastermind began to pick through his brain.
Shame flooded his body as he could feel the memories Mastermind was examining. His friends, his family, Layla… things he had done with Layla, things he hadn’t done with Layla, things he only daydreamed about, and not necessarily including Layla… Mastermind chuckled cruelly as he finally withdrew his mental powers.
“A red-headed goddess like that hanging on your arm for nearly three years and you haven’t done more than a simple kiss? Good heavens boy, with your powers you could have held her down and fucked her brains out a thousand times by now, and trust me, she would have enjoyed it. Oh but of course, you’re a good boy, you’d never think of doing that to your girlfriend. Or is it just because she’s a girl?” he asked, laughing. Will was feeling literally ill, as Mastermind continued his relentless litany of Will’s innermost desires.
“No, no, when you jerk off in the shower, and by the way, that’s quite a fine piece of equipment you have there…” he licked his lips and Will felt his gorge rise, “You aren’t thinking about her. When you cum, you’re thinking about someone else. And not even another girl; that might almost be acceptable to you. You’re thinking about your best friend. That very tasty young man in leather, Warren Peace, isn’t it?”
“No!” Will protested, his eyes closed as he felt tears begin to fill them. He was trapped God-knows-where, chained facedown and naked to a bed frame, powerless to free himself, his mind completely open to a perverted and psychotic supervillain genius. Helpless didn’t even begin to cover what he felt like right now.
“Really? Let’s try an experiment, shall we?” Mastermind put on hand on Will’s head, and suddenly his mind was filled with potent images of Layla. Everything from back when they were little, up through the farewell kiss she had given him before he had flown off to fight Mastermind’s Destructo-Bots. He could feel her lips on his, a dozen, a hundred times over. The scent of honeysuckle and roses that came from her skin and hair, the soft feel of her body when he had carried her during training, or just when they had flown together for fun… A hundred thousand images, sensations, and scents of Layla paraded through his memory in the span of a few moments, and for a brief instant, he could almost feel her next to him.
“Hmm… nothing going on down there.” Mastermind’s grating voice cut through the memory-stream, and the images of Layla abruptly vanished. The lecherous old man was leaning over to get a clear view of Will’s groin, and clucked his tongue at its flaccid state. “Even if images themselves wouldn’t do it, usually sensation or certainly scent will trigger some kind of reaction. But you… nothing. Not even a twitch. Hmm… well, let’s move on to Subject Two.”
Now images of Warren flooded Will’s mind; from their first meeting and fight in the cafeteria, to the dozens of training sessions they had run with the group. Laughter from the few times Warren had unbent enough to laugh, Will’s breath catching as he saw how amazingly beautiful Warren was when he smiled. The feel of his body the few times he had flown Warren during training, or once during a very rare hug when Warren had had a very bad day.
Then one glorious image of Warren in swim trunks the single time they had coaxed him into the hot tub at Ethan’s house during a Fourth of July party. Will had never been so grateful that he had been already sitting in the water, or that the water had been churning so hard that the froth hid his unexpected reaction. Will had gotten an immediate erection just from seeing Warren in the unexpected state of dishabille, and became nearly unable to control himself when Warren had sat down next to him. He remembered the scent of ginger Warren always seemed to carry with him, oddly intensified by the humid air. And when Warren had jokingly pushed him under (Will remembered Warren’s hands seemed even hotter than the water), Will completely lost it and came right there. It had surprised him so much; he had stayed under long enough to worry the rest of his friends, trying to suppress his shock and completely unacceptable desires for his best friend…
“’Unacceptable desires?’ Oh, I don’t think so. They’re more than acceptable to me,” Mastermind’s voice ended the memories again and Will opened his eyes. “My, you’re a big boy, aren’t you?”
Will realized he was completely, achingly erect after that little trip down memory lane. It’s Warren I really want? And not Layla? He was shaking with as much confusion as shame, wondering if Mastermind was actually manipulating his thoughts.
“Oh no, just reading them. I wouldn’t change a thing in that pretty head of yours; your shame is just delicious on its own,” Mastermind said casually, reaching out to stroke Will with his thin hand. Will abruptly deflated, disgusted by the man’s touch, and Mastermind made a disapproving snort.
“Take away my fun will you? After I just helped you realize where your true feelings lie? Certainly that’s worth a little cooperation from you?” he asked in a mock-pouting tone. Will was simply struggling not to throw up.
“Don’t touch me,” he repeated weakly.
“Well, then, if you don’t want me to touch you, then I won’t,” he said simply, and retreated back two steps to sit in a chair. “He’ll do it instead.”
Wild panic filled Will as he heard heavy footsteps behind him, and realized what was going to happen. He thrashed and pulled against his bonds, ignoring the sawing pain from his wrists and ankles, and the bruises he was inflicting on his chest and hips. Mastermind simply smiled, watching Will struggle with great interest. It took several minutes before Will finally had to stop and hung, exhausted, in his bonds.
“I’m sure the Bureau told you that I can control all my robots with my mind. That is, by the way, how I was able to capture you. Enhanced stun-ray from one my spy-drones as you imprudently tried to find my lair. Now, I also discovered, mostly by accident, that I can actually feel what my robots feel as well, provided there’s some kind of organic tissue involved. Cyborgs work fairly well, but there’s always the will of another to contend with. This, however, is my latest and greatest creation, a perfect compromise. Meet Zom-Bot.”
The heavy footsteps continued around the bed frame, and a tall and broad figure came into view. At first it looked like the preserved corpse of a tall and broad young man, the skin gray, leathery, and somewhat moist, the eyes dry and staring. It accordance with Mastermind’s newly apparent preferences, the walking corpse was also muscular, naked, and well endowed. Looking closer, a metal mesh ran under every inch of its preserved skin, showing its robotic enhancements.
“Zom-Bot has plenty of flesh for me to feel, though his perceptions are a little dim. No matter, he can keep going long enough to satisfy even me. The only question is if my toys can hold out as long as it takes. You see, I’m a bit too old to do this myself these days; no lead left in the old pencil I’m afraid. So Zom-Bot does all the hard work for me, and I just enjoy the rewards. You can scream if you want to, this place is quite soundproof, and I always enjoy a good scream…”
Will was too frightened to scream at first, both of the depths of Mastermind’s insanity, and of his ultimate fate. Then Zom-Bot put his slimy, strong hand on Will’s shoulder, and the other his hip, the scent of decay now thick in the hero’s nostrils. With no preamble, Zom-Bot suddenly thrust his metal-enhanced cock deep into Will’s bowels. Then Will could do nothing but scream.
The endless pistoning in and out never seemed to stop, nor did the pain. It came in surges, times where it was a bit less than the others, but other times, when Zom-Bot would pick up the pace or the force, when he could only scream hoarsely. The rest of the time he simply whimpered, occasionally begging for him to stop.
Mastermind was there every time Will opened his eyes, his legs crossed elegantly, his eyes glittering every time Will’s face would twist in new pain. What was even worse was that a time or two Zom-Bot had actually hit some bundle of nerves that had sent thrills of pleasure down Will’s spine and groin, all the more intense and unexpected because of the pain he was experiencing. Each time that had happened, he had longed unbearably for Warren, and somehow he knew Mastermind had noticed.
The humiliation was possibly even worse than the pain, and more than once Will had simply lost it and vomited. Now he could only dry heave, which made the whole disgusting experience just that much more unbearable. He was so sunk in his own misery and despair that it took him several minutes to notice when he passed into unconsciousness. Or rather, when he passed out of unconsciousness.
His backside, hips, and chest hurt horribly, barely eclipsing the pain of his raw wrists and ankles. His head throbbed; a distant third in pain, probably a side effect of Mastermind’s mental meddling. Cautiously he raised his head and looked around, realizing that the room was empty for once. Almost unbelieving, he saw that the shackles were no longer glowing white, which meant their power-neutralizing properties were gone. A sudden hope for freedom penetrated Will’s despair, and strength surged back through his body. Will tightened his muscles, feeling the stubborn shackles resisting back, but refusing to give up.
Mastermind hadn’t lied when he said they were tough, but Will was the strongest superhero on the entire planet, and there wasn’t a chain made that could hold him! Will could feel the metal begin to creak and protest, and redoubled his efforts again and again. Maybe Mastermind had thought Will would be passed out longer, maybe he thought he had broken Will so thoroughly that he wouldn’t be able to move. He had been wrong, and with a roar, the shackles finally snapped. Panting and sobbing, Will reached first for his super-suit, refusing to face anyone until he had on the armor of clothing.
A tiny trickle of confidence came back into him as he finally tugged on his gauntlets as the last bit of his costume, and he took a few deeps breaths to try to get himself calm. He was going to pay for this later, he knew it, but right now if he bothered to let himself think and feel what he had just been through, he was going to curl up on the floor and never move again. Now drained of emotion, feeling cold as ice, Will gave the door a single punch. It flew down the corridor outside, narrowly missing the approaching Mastermind and Zom-Bot.
“Back for another round?” Will growled and flew at them. Mastermind didn’t even have a chance to respond; Will grabbed him by the face and slammed his skull into the wall behind him, smashing his head open like an egg. He whirled on the now inert Zom-Bot, rage flooding him, and he began to pound the cyborg zombie with unnatural fury. When he finally stood up, Zom-Bot was nothing more than a pile of rotting meat, entangled with wires and tubing.
Will stood for a moment, staring at the bodies of his two tormentors. Well Guardian, you just had complete and total revenge on them for what they did to you. Mastermind is dead beyond all reason of a doubt, and nothing is going to be able to put Zom-Bot back together again, his conscience told him with heavy sarcasm. Will’s stomach began to churn when he realized what he had just done. I killed him. I didn’t take him in for justice, I just killed him, I… He had killed, and killed horribly. His first solo mission, his first real official venture into the world of superheroes, and he had been captured, raped, and then killed someone in cold blood.
Will collapsed on the floor again, his body convulsing as he tried to bring something up from his empty stomach. It took several minutes before he could even stand again, and by that point he was longing, with all of his heart, for home.
I have to get out of here… I just need someplace safe… Maybe Warren can, oh God! His thoughts were stopped short when he thought of Warren. Warren was his best friend, and Warren also was the one people went to for advice but… It killed him inside to think that Mastermind had been in any way right, but he didn’t know how he could even face Warren right now. It was true, he loved Layla, but whenever it came to anything sexual, he kept thinking of Warren. What did that say about him? Was he actually into guys? Had he been stringing Layla along?
God, what could he tell Layla? She was so innocent, so pure, so sweet, so good. He couldn’t imagine telling her about this, about rape and murder. The thought of Layla knowing about this made him physically ill again. It was like Layla was the guardian of all things that were good in this world, and it would be sacrilege to sully her mind and heart with his own burden. And even if he didn’t tell her that, how could he tell her that he could never be with her intimately? That nothing about her excited him as much as the bare thought of Warren did? He had been her boyfriend for three years, how could he explain that he had just come to this conclusion?
The scent of fresh blood and rotting flesh was filling his nostrils again, and Will suddenly couldn’t stand it anymore. He flew straight up, pounding through the ceiling, then the one above that, and soon found himself in open air, somewhere high above the mountains. Taking deep, greedy breaths of the sweet, fresh air, Will consulted the GPS built into the watch on his gauntlet. Surprisingly, he was only a few miles north of Denver, where he had fought the Destructo-Bots. More surprisingly, he found it was Sunday. He had left to fight the ‘Bots on Friday afternoon, and now it was Sunday morning. He had been gone almost two days.
It feels like it might have been two weeks, or two months, he thought, glancing downward. He was supposed to go back to the Denver field office of the Bureau of Superpowered Affairs to make his report… but right now he just couldn’t do it. Taking another deep breath, he punched in the coordinates for Maxville and headed back home.
Somehow he managed to sneak back into the Secret Sanctum without his parents noticing, hung up his super-suit and get back into regular clothes before they knew he was home. He was lucky he had kept an extra jacket down here, because he had to wear something to cover the damage to his wrists. He had just managed to tug them down to cover them properly when his dad came sliding down the pole. Steve Stronghold looked at Will, surprised for a half second, then ran right over to him and gave him a huge bear-hug.
“Will! My God, where have you been? Josie! Will’s back!” he called, then turned his attention back to his son. He had been so glad to see him he hadn’t noticed Will’s initial flinch or repressed panic when he hugged him. Josie Stronghold came sliding down a few seconds later and joined in the family group hug, laughing and smiling. Will had a sudden feeling of claustrophobia that was growing with each passing second, and finally he used a bit of his super-strength to break his father’s grip. He clamped down hard on his lip for control, not wanting to cry.
“Will… honey, how did it go? What’s been going on? The Denver branch of the Bureau wouldn’t tell us anything, just that you had defeated the Destructo-Bots and had gone hunting Mastermind in his lair,” his mom asked, stepping forward again to brush his hair out of his eyes. Will couldn’t help himself; he flinched back before she could touch him.
“I… got into his lair. I defeated him,” he said simply. “I need to go take a shower and go to bed.” With that he abruptly flew upstairs, heedless of the danger of being seen, and into the bathroom. Shudders wracked his body as he shoved off his clothes and stepped into the shower. He turned the heat up as much as he could stand, despite the stinging in his wrists and ankles. The heat seemed to help the bruises on his chest and hips a little, but as for a little further down…
Will felt filthy, cold, the stink of Zom-Bot’s rotting flesh still in his nose, the cold of that room, the filthy looks Mastermind had been giving him all making him feel like no amount of soap or water was even going to get him clean again. That didn’t stop him from trying though, and he only stopped when he realized he had used up most of the hot water. Reluctantly he turned off the shower and toweled himself off gingerly. He rubbed the condensation off the mirror and looked at himself soberly. The heavy purple-black bands of bruising on his torso looked horrible, and his wrists and ankles were raw in almost two-inch strips, a bare hair way from freely bleeding. Will couldn’t even bear to try to look at the damage to his backside, and so didn’t.
Now that his super-strength wasn’t being repressed, Will wasn’t sure what would happen next. He hadn’t even had a scrape since he first powered up three years ago. Sure, he could still feel pain if he got hit, but it was always transitory. He hadn’t had to deal with an actual injury in far too long. He fished out the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet and gingerly applied some antibiotic ointment and bandages to his wrists and ankles.
Next he pulled out a bottle of painkillers and shook out a few. He considered the bottle very carefully for a very long minute. Suicide was generally not something that had ever crossed his mind, but right now a permanent escape had a lot of appeal. He took a shuddering breath as he abruptly swallowed a couple and resolutely put the bottle back in the cabinet. He wasn’t even sure if it would work, considering his powers. Or if it actually did affect him, it might not kill him. That would land him in the hospital, and his parents would figure out what had happened to him. He couldn’t handle that, not at all. And finally, he couldn’t stand to think of people believing Mastermind had truly defeated him. He was Guardian, the strongest superhero on the planet!
Will actually laughed bitterly out loud when that thought cross his mind, and took a second to get himself back under control.
“Will? Honey? Are you ok?” his mom called from the other side of the door.
“Yeah, I’m fine! I’ll be out in a minute, and then I’m going to bed!” he called back.
Behind the door, Josie Stronghold exchanged a troubled glance with her husband. Will had been in the shower for over an hour, which was more than enough time to do a little investigating of their own. The Bureau had told them that after Will had destroyed the Destructo-Bots, he had found a tracking device within one of them. Taking that device, he had flown off into the Rockies to hunt down Mastermind in his lair. After that, the Bureau had lost contact with him for almost two days. Two days in which they had claimed he was simply “mopping up.” Two days in which they had lied to the Commander and Jetstream about the location of their son, because they hadn’t known themselves.
Right now, Josie and Steve thought they might understand the Bureau’s reluctance to talk. Because Josie held in her hand the bloodstained gauntlet from Will’s super-suit.
Will emerged from the bathroom and went straight to his bed, ignoring his parents and closing the door behind him. His parents crept silently to the door and listened carefully, and Josie thought she heard a very faint sob, heavily muffled as if from a pillow. Her heart contracted, and she hugged Steve close for a very long time.
Two days later, Will still hadn’t come out from his bedroom, and both his parents had gone past worried into near panic. Each time one or the other of them had asked how he was doing, he had simply said, “Fine! I’m tired, go away!” He hadn’t eaten anything since he came home, and every time his parents had tried to tempt him with his friends, he had refused all callers. In desperation, Steve had finally forced Will’s door open so Layla could get in to talk to him.
Will was lying in bed, dressed in long-sleeved winter pajamas despite the fact that it was July, staring at the wall. Steve had the horrible suspicion that he had been that way for two days.
“Go away,” he said tiredly when his door opened.
“Will? It’s Layla,” she said cautiously, stepping into the room. Will didn’t even react, and Steve shut the door again to give them some privacy.
“Go away Layla, I’m tired,” he said again.
“Will, you haven’t come out in two days!” she exclaimed. “Please, what’s going on? I want to help you, we all do…”
She sat on the bed and put out her hand to rest on Will’s shoulder. His reaction was immediate and violent; he jerked away so hard he actually dumped her on the floor.
“Go away!” he screamed, sitting up in bed. Layla was shocked at how he looked, pale and thin, with dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in a week. His eyes were nearly dead, which scared Layla white. Choking, she scrambled to her feet and stumbled out the door, shutting it behind her. Steve Stronghold looked at her, startled, and put an encouraging arm around her shoulder.
“He… he needs help,” she said softly. “And I… I can’t do it. I’m sorry, I just can’t!” With that, she pushed away from him and ran out of the house, crying nearly the whole way. Josie stepped out of her own bedroom and gave Steve a significant glance.
“That does it, we’re going to Denver and seeing Mastermind’s lair for ourselves,” she said firmly. “Something happened when Will was tracking him, something horrible.”
Steve looked as if he were going to protest, then looked back at Will’s door and nodded.
“You saw the gauntlet. And the Bureau’s being coy about the whole affair. I think we both know that can only add up to one thing,” she said, and raised an eyebrow.
“Will killed Mastermind,” Steve said reluctantly. It was horrible to think that their son could have murdered someone, but in their line of work, it was not only possible, it was actually very probable that they would have to kill a supervillain in order to get them to stop. Steve had killed over a dozen supervillains, and he regretted each and every one. Each time, there had been no other choice, but it made it no easier. Will was punishing himself for his crime, and he refused to talk about it. So the Strongholds had to find out for themselves.
“We better bring in the Peaces after we learn what we can,” Josie added. “Even if he won’t talk to Joy, at least she can give us some better idea of what to say. And maybe it would be easier for him to talk to Warren. Warren… understands pain.”
Warren’s mother, Joy Peace, a.k.a. the Peacemaker, was a powerful empath, able to read, project, and manipulate emotion. She helped stop wars and negotiate treaties, but she also was the counselor and psychiatrist for the whole superhero community. She was extremely ethical though, and never forced her powers on the unwilling. If Will refused her help, there was only so much she could do.
But Warren, a.k.a. Phoenix, had been on active hero duty for a year already. Several times he had been forced to hurt people, burn them, to get them to surrender. Twice already he had killed, a pair of evil twin telepaths that had been intent on ripping apart a nuclear power station. It had been either kill them or watch Maxville and most of the state go up in a nuclear holocaust. He had spent a lot of time with his mother getting over the guilt that had caused. Perhaps Warren would be able to crack the shell of Will’s pain better than his parents’ concern or his girlfriend’s sympathy.
“Should we get someone to stay here in case Will gets up?” Steve asked as the two got into costume for their trip to Denver. Josie sighed.
“Steve, I think the house could catch on fire right now and Will wouldn’t even care. Nothing is getting him out of that room,” she said with resignation. Then her face abruptly crumpled and Steve folded her into his arms.
A bare hour later, the Commander and Jetstream touched down at the Denver field office of the Bureau of Superpowered Affairs. Their fame had gotten them an immediate meeting with the director, Sebastian Corbett, a.k.a. Agent Astral, a powerful psychic.
“I believe I can understand why you’re here,” he said simply.
“Mastermind’s lair, what did you find?” the Commander demanded. Corbett looked very thoughtful for a minute.
“Are you sure you want to know?” he asked finally. They both looked at him incredulously.
“Our son hadn’t spoken, eaten, or left his room in two days. Yes, we want to know!” Jetstream snapped. Corbett rocked back in his seat at her fury, and quickly dialed up the holocam images they had taken.
“We found his lair by the hole Guardian had left in it. When we went in… we found this. It’s rather gory,” he warned, as he switched the images. Both of them gasped when the body came into focus, the head completely crushed, the wall smeared with blood and brains.
“Is that-?” the Commander got out.
“Yes, it’s Mastermind. It took some fairly extensive reconstructive work, but we finally confirmed it was him. That other pile of stuff on the floor is apparently one of Mastermind’s creations. We found the plans in his computer, this is what it looked like when it was whole,” he said, and flipped the holocam to a new image, showing Zom-Bot in its original form.
“It was a cyborg zombie,” Corbett explained. “Now, apparently Guardian was being held in this room.” The view switched again, and the Strongholds could see how Will had smashed the door open from the inside. When they caught sight of the frame and shackles, their breath caught. “The restraints were power-neutralizer shackles, and both them and the frame were made of adamantium-diamond composite. Apparently once the shackles had been turned off, Guardian was able to break them. That’s a very impressive feat, by the way. I’m not sure even you could do that, Commander.”
“What… happened in that room?” Jetstream asked, starting to shake. Corbett looked at her with sympathy, but didn’t stop.
“With the DNA evidence, it was apparent Guardian had been bound at the wrists and ankles, probably face-down, naked, on that frame. Mastermind had been sitting in the chair at the head of the frame. The cyborg zombie had been standing at the foot of the bed. We know that at least three times, Guardian vomited during his ordeal. There were no cameras in this room, and unfortunately there is no further hard evidence to suggest what else might have happened,” Corbett stated simply.
Jetstream burst into tears and the Commander looked quite ready to kill something.
“It’s a damn good thing Mastermind is already dead,” he said simply, cracking his knuckles. “You already know what happened though, don’t you?”
“One of my powers is pyschometry, object reading. For me, walls do talk. Mastermind was known to the Bureau to have several unsavory and illegal habits, pedophilia amongst them. He could also feel what his robots felt, particularly if they had some kind of flesh incorporated into them. He brought all of that to bear when he tortured Guardian,” Corbett explained obliquely.
“He raped him,” Jetstream said it first through her tears.
“By proxy of the cyborg zombie, yes. I believe he attempted some kind of mental torture as well, by using his powers against Guardian. And I have not the slightest qualm about Guardian’s treatment of Mastermind. He deserved far worse,” Corbett said, his jaw clenched tightly. The Commander was sitting back heavily in his chair, mentally reeling at the news, anger and disbelief a hard tangle within him.
“And when,” he asked, “were you going to tell us this? Another week? Two? Never?”
“When you came to us and were ready to hear. We had hoped that perhaps at home he might be able to recover,” the director explained.
“What are we going to do? He’s going to starve himself to death before he comes out of his room!” the Commander said, glaring at Corbett.
“We… we…” Jetstream tried to calm herself, “We’re going to bring in the Peacemaker and Phoenix. She could at least try to help him… and Phoenix is his best friend. Phoenix might understand at least.”
Corbett nodded solemnly, but had little further to add. Guardian was still living at home, and with his own parents standing by to make sure he didn’t either attempt suicide or go crazy, there wasn’t too much else the Bureau was willing to do at this point. No hospital could hold Guardian if he didn’t want to be held, so right now home was the best place for him. And that was a terrifying thought.
Title: Purity Me, part 1
Fandom: Sky High
Rating: NC-17 for violence, rape situations, and hardcore M/M sex. If not of age, or such things don't crank your knob, please read something else.
Pairing: Warren/Will
Summary: Will's first solo mission goes horrible wrong. Can Warren help him come to terms with it before disaster strikes? [Drama, angst, hurt/comfort]
Author’s Note: This story was originally published on adultfanfiction.net, in response to a challenge therein.
This is in response to Rosemary’s challenge, which I shall reproduce here:
[The plot is Will during his first official solo mission, gets attack by some super villain (make one up or one from the movie, your choice), during the time Will is kidnap tortured and raped (graphic or non, your choice). The kidnappers let him go/or he escapes, which ever he goes home and tries to hide what happened. But slowly he’s withdrawing from the world all his friends and his parents are worried about him. Anyway, finally Warren gets the story out of him, blah, blah …you can figure out the rest. (^. ^)
Rules:
(1) Has to slash, no hetero please
(2) Will has to be bottom/uke
(3) Will’s parents can’t be totally clueless idiots]
This story is tangentially related to the story War and Peace In Mind that I’m writing on FanFiction.net (and am putting on my Live Journal, slowly but surely), though it is unrelated to Heat, which I’m writing on AFF.net (and will be putting on my LJ as well... eventually). Things you need to know that I don’t otherwise explain in the story are basically when Warren powers up when he’s mad, he creates regular fire and burns stuff. When he powers up when he’s trying to help, he can heal people. Other than that everything else is explained therein. I tapped a bit of my dark side for this, you’re been warned.
I would adore any reviews that let me know what you think about, what you liked, didn't like, or what could make it better.
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“Ah, awake now Guardian? It’s such a pity you conceal your identity in the reverse. If you had been wearing a mask, I could have finally figured out who you really are. Not that it bothers me much; I just wanted to call you by your name while we play our little games. No matter, I’m sure I’ll recover from that disappointment. I won’t pry in that part of your head, never fear. I have much more interesting places in your mind to investigate.”
Will slowly tried to raise his aching head, cautiously opening his eyes. A few feet below him was a concrete floor, dimly lit from above. He tried to move, and found his hands caught up short. Fear surged through his body as he looked wildly around. His wrists and ankles were chained to some kind of metal frame held a few feet horizontally off the floor, with one metal bar running under his hips, and one under his chest. Twisting to get a closer look at his bonds, Will realized they were glowing a bright, warm white.
Power neutralizer shackles, he realized, the blood draining from his face. He tried pulling anyway, and felt the metal from the cuffs digging into his skin. He couldn’t break them, and terror began to flood through his system. Other sensations began to prick through his fear; the fact that it was cold, and there was a faint chill breeze on his naked skin. Naked skin? he thought wildly, quickly taking stock. Yes, his red, white, and blue super-suit was thrown in one dimly-lit corner, while he was chained to this metal frame, naked as a babe.
“You know struggling is useless. Even if those shackles weren’t on, the alloy they and the frame are made out of is incredibly tough. Adamantium laced with diamond; it’s nearly as impervious to damage as you are. Or were, before I turned the shackles on. I like to keep a little insurance, just in case. I’m a rather cautious fellow, and I have waited such a long time for someone like you to fall into my trap,” the aged, whining voice continued.
Will twisted again, finally spying the voice’s owner. A wizened, elderly man, short, with a slightly oversized bald head and beady yellow eyes stood in one corner. His pale, wrinkled skin was dotted with age spots, and his claw-like hands trembled very slightly as he began to walk forward. Mastermind, Will realized, recognizing him from the briefing he had gotten from the Bureau.
Mastermind gave a twisted grin as he stepped up next to the frame, his pale eyes boring into Will’s. Casually he reached out one hand and stroked Will’s ass.
“Such a tight, sweet, firm young boy,” he said cheerfully, as absolute revulsion wracked Will’s body. He tried to wrench himself away from that horrible hand, but between the tightness of the shackles and the bar under his hips, he could only flinch a few inches away.
“Don’t touch me!” he snarled, almost shaking with disgust. Mastermind only smiled wider, showing twisted and rotting teeth. Will suddenly felt someone digging in his head, and belatedly tried to strengthen his mental walls. He had no psychic powers, so the best he could do was that, but between his disorientation from being captured and his own emotions, his walls were weak. There was an almost audible crumble as his walls broke, and Mastermind began to pick through his brain.
Shame flooded his body as he could feel the memories Mastermind was examining. His friends, his family, Layla… things he had done with Layla, things he hadn’t done with Layla, things he only daydreamed about, and not necessarily including Layla… Mastermind chuckled cruelly as he finally withdrew his mental powers.
“A red-headed goddess like that hanging on your arm for nearly three years and you haven’t done more than a simple kiss? Good heavens boy, with your powers you could have held her down and fucked her brains out a thousand times by now, and trust me, she would have enjoyed it. Oh but of course, you’re a good boy, you’d never think of doing that to your girlfriend. Or is it just because she’s a girl?” he asked, laughing. Will was feeling literally ill, as Mastermind continued his relentless litany of Will’s innermost desires.
“No, no, when you jerk off in the shower, and by the way, that’s quite a fine piece of equipment you have there…” he licked his lips and Will felt his gorge rise, “You aren’t thinking about her. When you cum, you’re thinking about someone else. And not even another girl; that might almost be acceptable to you. You’re thinking about your best friend. That very tasty young man in leather, Warren Peace, isn’t it?”
“No!” Will protested, his eyes closed as he felt tears begin to fill them. He was trapped God-knows-where, chained facedown and naked to a bed frame, powerless to free himself, his mind completely open to a perverted and psychotic supervillain genius. Helpless didn’t even begin to cover what he felt like right now.
“Really? Let’s try an experiment, shall we?” Mastermind put on hand on Will’s head, and suddenly his mind was filled with potent images of Layla. Everything from back when they were little, up through the farewell kiss she had given him before he had flown off to fight Mastermind’s Destructo-Bots. He could feel her lips on his, a dozen, a hundred times over. The scent of honeysuckle and roses that came from her skin and hair, the soft feel of her body when he had carried her during training, or just when they had flown together for fun… A hundred thousand images, sensations, and scents of Layla paraded through his memory in the span of a few moments, and for a brief instant, he could almost feel her next to him.
“Hmm… nothing going on down there.” Mastermind’s grating voice cut through the memory-stream, and the images of Layla abruptly vanished. The lecherous old man was leaning over to get a clear view of Will’s groin, and clucked his tongue at its flaccid state. “Even if images themselves wouldn’t do it, usually sensation or certainly scent will trigger some kind of reaction. But you… nothing. Not even a twitch. Hmm… well, let’s move on to Subject Two.”
Now images of Warren flooded Will’s mind; from their first meeting and fight in the cafeteria, to the dozens of training sessions they had run with the group. Laughter from the few times Warren had unbent enough to laugh, Will’s breath catching as he saw how amazingly beautiful Warren was when he smiled. The feel of his body the few times he had flown Warren during training, or once during a very rare hug when Warren had had a very bad day.
Then one glorious image of Warren in swim trunks the single time they had coaxed him into the hot tub at Ethan’s house during a Fourth of July party. Will had never been so grateful that he had been already sitting in the water, or that the water had been churning so hard that the froth hid his unexpected reaction. Will had gotten an immediate erection just from seeing Warren in the unexpected state of dishabille, and became nearly unable to control himself when Warren had sat down next to him. He remembered the scent of ginger Warren always seemed to carry with him, oddly intensified by the humid air. And when Warren had jokingly pushed him under (Will remembered Warren’s hands seemed even hotter than the water), Will completely lost it and came right there. It had surprised him so much; he had stayed under long enough to worry the rest of his friends, trying to suppress his shock and completely unacceptable desires for his best friend…
“’Unacceptable desires?’ Oh, I don’t think so. They’re more than acceptable to me,” Mastermind’s voice ended the memories again and Will opened his eyes. “My, you’re a big boy, aren’t you?”
Will realized he was completely, achingly erect after that little trip down memory lane. It’s Warren I really want? And not Layla? He was shaking with as much confusion as shame, wondering if Mastermind was actually manipulating his thoughts.
“Oh no, just reading them. I wouldn’t change a thing in that pretty head of yours; your shame is just delicious on its own,” Mastermind said casually, reaching out to stroke Will with his thin hand. Will abruptly deflated, disgusted by the man’s touch, and Mastermind made a disapproving snort.
“Take away my fun will you? After I just helped you realize where your true feelings lie? Certainly that’s worth a little cooperation from you?” he asked in a mock-pouting tone. Will was simply struggling not to throw up.
“Don’t touch me,” he repeated weakly.
“Well, then, if you don’t want me to touch you, then I won’t,” he said simply, and retreated back two steps to sit in a chair. “He’ll do it instead.”
Wild panic filled Will as he heard heavy footsteps behind him, and realized what was going to happen. He thrashed and pulled against his bonds, ignoring the sawing pain from his wrists and ankles, and the bruises he was inflicting on his chest and hips. Mastermind simply smiled, watching Will struggle with great interest. It took several minutes before Will finally had to stop and hung, exhausted, in his bonds.
“I’m sure the Bureau told you that I can control all my robots with my mind. That is, by the way, how I was able to capture you. Enhanced stun-ray from one my spy-drones as you imprudently tried to find my lair. Now, I also discovered, mostly by accident, that I can actually feel what my robots feel as well, provided there’s some kind of organic tissue involved. Cyborgs work fairly well, but there’s always the will of another to contend with. This, however, is my latest and greatest creation, a perfect compromise. Meet Zom-Bot.”
The heavy footsteps continued around the bed frame, and a tall and broad figure came into view. At first it looked like the preserved corpse of a tall and broad young man, the skin gray, leathery, and somewhat moist, the eyes dry and staring. It accordance with Mastermind’s newly apparent preferences, the walking corpse was also muscular, naked, and well endowed. Looking closer, a metal mesh ran under every inch of its preserved skin, showing its robotic enhancements.
“Zom-Bot has plenty of flesh for me to feel, though his perceptions are a little dim. No matter, he can keep going long enough to satisfy even me. The only question is if my toys can hold out as long as it takes. You see, I’m a bit too old to do this myself these days; no lead left in the old pencil I’m afraid. So Zom-Bot does all the hard work for me, and I just enjoy the rewards. You can scream if you want to, this place is quite soundproof, and I always enjoy a good scream…”
Will was too frightened to scream at first, both of the depths of Mastermind’s insanity, and of his ultimate fate. Then Zom-Bot put his slimy, strong hand on Will’s shoulder, and the other his hip, the scent of decay now thick in the hero’s nostrils. With no preamble, Zom-Bot suddenly thrust his metal-enhanced cock deep into Will’s bowels. Then Will could do nothing but scream.
The endless pistoning in and out never seemed to stop, nor did the pain. It came in surges, times where it was a bit less than the others, but other times, when Zom-Bot would pick up the pace or the force, when he could only scream hoarsely. The rest of the time he simply whimpered, occasionally begging for him to stop.
Mastermind was there every time Will opened his eyes, his legs crossed elegantly, his eyes glittering every time Will’s face would twist in new pain. What was even worse was that a time or two Zom-Bot had actually hit some bundle of nerves that had sent thrills of pleasure down Will’s spine and groin, all the more intense and unexpected because of the pain he was experiencing. Each time that had happened, he had longed unbearably for Warren, and somehow he knew Mastermind had noticed.
The humiliation was possibly even worse than the pain, and more than once Will had simply lost it and vomited. Now he could only dry heave, which made the whole disgusting experience just that much more unbearable. He was so sunk in his own misery and despair that it took him several minutes to notice when he passed into unconsciousness. Or rather, when he passed out of unconsciousness.
His backside, hips, and chest hurt horribly, barely eclipsing the pain of his raw wrists and ankles. His head throbbed; a distant third in pain, probably a side effect of Mastermind’s mental meddling. Cautiously he raised his head and looked around, realizing that the room was empty for once. Almost unbelieving, he saw that the shackles were no longer glowing white, which meant their power-neutralizing properties were gone. A sudden hope for freedom penetrated Will’s despair, and strength surged back through his body. Will tightened his muscles, feeling the stubborn shackles resisting back, but refusing to give up.
Mastermind hadn’t lied when he said they were tough, but Will was the strongest superhero on the entire planet, and there wasn’t a chain made that could hold him! Will could feel the metal begin to creak and protest, and redoubled his efforts again and again. Maybe Mastermind had thought Will would be passed out longer, maybe he thought he had broken Will so thoroughly that he wouldn’t be able to move. He had been wrong, and with a roar, the shackles finally snapped. Panting and sobbing, Will reached first for his super-suit, refusing to face anyone until he had on the armor of clothing.
A tiny trickle of confidence came back into him as he finally tugged on his gauntlets as the last bit of his costume, and he took a few deeps breaths to try to get himself calm. He was going to pay for this later, he knew it, but right now if he bothered to let himself think and feel what he had just been through, he was going to curl up on the floor and never move again. Now drained of emotion, feeling cold as ice, Will gave the door a single punch. It flew down the corridor outside, narrowly missing the approaching Mastermind and Zom-Bot.
“Back for another round?” Will growled and flew at them. Mastermind didn’t even have a chance to respond; Will grabbed him by the face and slammed his skull into the wall behind him, smashing his head open like an egg. He whirled on the now inert Zom-Bot, rage flooding him, and he began to pound the cyborg zombie with unnatural fury. When he finally stood up, Zom-Bot was nothing more than a pile of rotting meat, entangled with wires and tubing.
Will stood for a moment, staring at the bodies of his two tormentors. Well Guardian, you just had complete and total revenge on them for what they did to you. Mastermind is dead beyond all reason of a doubt, and nothing is going to be able to put Zom-Bot back together again, his conscience told him with heavy sarcasm. Will’s stomach began to churn when he realized what he had just done. I killed him. I didn’t take him in for justice, I just killed him, I… He had killed, and killed horribly. His first solo mission, his first real official venture into the world of superheroes, and he had been captured, raped, and then killed someone in cold blood.
Will collapsed on the floor again, his body convulsing as he tried to bring something up from his empty stomach. It took several minutes before he could even stand again, and by that point he was longing, with all of his heart, for home.
I have to get out of here… I just need someplace safe… Maybe Warren can, oh God! His thoughts were stopped short when he thought of Warren. Warren was his best friend, and Warren also was the one people went to for advice but… It killed him inside to think that Mastermind had been in any way right, but he didn’t know how he could even face Warren right now. It was true, he loved Layla, but whenever it came to anything sexual, he kept thinking of Warren. What did that say about him? Was he actually into guys? Had he been stringing Layla along?
God, what could he tell Layla? She was so innocent, so pure, so sweet, so good. He couldn’t imagine telling her about this, about rape and murder. The thought of Layla knowing about this made him physically ill again. It was like Layla was the guardian of all things that were good in this world, and it would be sacrilege to sully her mind and heart with his own burden. And even if he didn’t tell her that, how could he tell her that he could never be with her intimately? That nothing about her excited him as much as the bare thought of Warren did? He had been her boyfriend for three years, how could he explain that he had just come to this conclusion?
The scent of fresh blood and rotting flesh was filling his nostrils again, and Will suddenly couldn’t stand it anymore. He flew straight up, pounding through the ceiling, then the one above that, and soon found himself in open air, somewhere high above the mountains. Taking deep, greedy breaths of the sweet, fresh air, Will consulted the GPS built into the watch on his gauntlet. Surprisingly, he was only a few miles north of Denver, where he had fought the Destructo-Bots. More surprisingly, he found it was Sunday. He had left to fight the ‘Bots on Friday afternoon, and now it was Sunday morning. He had been gone almost two days.
It feels like it might have been two weeks, or two months, he thought, glancing downward. He was supposed to go back to the Denver field office of the Bureau of Superpowered Affairs to make his report… but right now he just couldn’t do it. Taking another deep breath, he punched in the coordinates for Maxville and headed back home.
Somehow he managed to sneak back into the Secret Sanctum without his parents noticing, hung up his super-suit and get back into regular clothes before they knew he was home. He was lucky he had kept an extra jacket down here, because he had to wear something to cover the damage to his wrists. He had just managed to tug them down to cover them properly when his dad came sliding down the pole. Steve Stronghold looked at Will, surprised for a half second, then ran right over to him and gave him a huge bear-hug.
“Will! My God, where have you been? Josie! Will’s back!” he called, then turned his attention back to his son. He had been so glad to see him he hadn’t noticed Will’s initial flinch or repressed panic when he hugged him. Josie Stronghold came sliding down a few seconds later and joined in the family group hug, laughing and smiling. Will had a sudden feeling of claustrophobia that was growing with each passing second, and finally he used a bit of his super-strength to break his father’s grip. He clamped down hard on his lip for control, not wanting to cry.
“Will… honey, how did it go? What’s been going on? The Denver branch of the Bureau wouldn’t tell us anything, just that you had defeated the Destructo-Bots and had gone hunting Mastermind in his lair,” his mom asked, stepping forward again to brush his hair out of his eyes. Will couldn’t help himself; he flinched back before she could touch him.
“I… got into his lair. I defeated him,” he said simply. “I need to go take a shower and go to bed.” With that he abruptly flew upstairs, heedless of the danger of being seen, and into the bathroom. Shudders wracked his body as he shoved off his clothes and stepped into the shower. He turned the heat up as much as he could stand, despite the stinging in his wrists and ankles. The heat seemed to help the bruises on his chest and hips a little, but as for a little further down…
Will felt filthy, cold, the stink of Zom-Bot’s rotting flesh still in his nose, the cold of that room, the filthy looks Mastermind had been giving him all making him feel like no amount of soap or water was even going to get him clean again. That didn’t stop him from trying though, and he only stopped when he realized he had used up most of the hot water. Reluctantly he turned off the shower and toweled himself off gingerly. He rubbed the condensation off the mirror and looked at himself soberly. The heavy purple-black bands of bruising on his torso looked horrible, and his wrists and ankles were raw in almost two-inch strips, a bare hair way from freely bleeding. Will couldn’t even bear to try to look at the damage to his backside, and so didn’t.
Now that his super-strength wasn’t being repressed, Will wasn’t sure what would happen next. He hadn’t even had a scrape since he first powered up three years ago. Sure, he could still feel pain if he got hit, but it was always transitory. He hadn’t had to deal with an actual injury in far too long. He fished out the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet and gingerly applied some antibiotic ointment and bandages to his wrists and ankles.
Next he pulled out a bottle of painkillers and shook out a few. He considered the bottle very carefully for a very long minute. Suicide was generally not something that had ever crossed his mind, but right now a permanent escape had a lot of appeal. He took a shuddering breath as he abruptly swallowed a couple and resolutely put the bottle back in the cabinet. He wasn’t even sure if it would work, considering his powers. Or if it actually did affect him, it might not kill him. That would land him in the hospital, and his parents would figure out what had happened to him. He couldn’t handle that, not at all. And finally, he couldn’t stand to think of people believing Mastermind had truly defeated him. He was Guardian, the strongest superhero on the planet!
Will actually laughed bitterly out loud when that thought cross his mind, and took a second to get himself back under control.
“Will? Honey? Are you ok?” his mom called from the other side of the door.
“Yeah, I’m fine! I’ll be out in a minute, and then I’m going to bed!” he called back.
Behind the door, Josie Stronghold exchanged a troubled glance with her husband. Will had been in the shower for over an hour, which was more than enough time to do a little investigating of their own. The Bureau had told them that after Will had destroyed the Destructo-Bots, he had found a tracking device within one of them. Taking that device, he had flown off into the Rockies to hunt down Mastermind in his lair. After that, the Bureau had lost contact with him for almost two days. Two days in which they had claimed he was simply “mopping up.” Two days in which they had lied to the Commander and Jetstream about the location of their son, because they hadn’t known themselves.
Right now, Josie and Steve thought they might understand the Bureau’s reluctance to talk. Because Josie held in her hand the bloodstained gauntlet from Will’s super-suit.
Will emerged from the bathroom and went straight to his bed, ignoring his parents and closing the door behind him. His parents crept silently to the door and listened carefully, and Josie thought she heard a very faint sob, heavily muffled as if from a pillow. Her heart contracted, and she hugged Steve close for a very long time.
Two days later, Will still hadn’t come out from his bedroom, and both his parents had gone past worried into near panic. Each time one or the other of them had asked how he was doing, he had simply said, “Fine! I’m tired, go away!” He hadn’t eaten anything since he came home, and every time his parents had tried to tempt him with his friends, he had refused all callers. In desperation, Steve had finally forced Will’s door open so Layla could get in to talk to him.
Will was lying in bed, dressed in long-sleeved winter pajamas despite the fact that it was July, staring at the wall. Steve had the horrible suspicion that he had been that way for two days.
“Go away,” he said tiredly when his door opened.
“Will? It’s Layla,” she said cautiously, stepping into the room. Will didn’t even react, and Steve shut the door again to give them some privacy.
“Go away Layla, I’m tired,” he said again.
“Will, you haven’t come out in two days!” she exclaimed. “Please, what’s going on? I want to help you, we all do…”
She sat on the bed and put out her hand to rest on Will’s shoulder. His reaction was immediate and violent; he jerked away so hard he actually dumped her on the floor.
“Go away!” he screamed, sitting up in bed. Layla was shocked at how he looked, pale and thin, with dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in a week. His eyes were nearly dead, which scared Layla white. Choking, she scrambled to her feet and stumbled out the door, shutting it behind her. Steve Stronghold looked at her, startled, and put an encouraging arm around her shoulder.
“He… he needs help,” she said softly. “And I… I can’t do it. I’m sorry, I just can’t!” With that, she pushed away from him and ran out of the house, crying nearly the whole way. Josie stepped out of her own bedroom and gave Steve a significant glance.
“That does it, we’re going to Denver and seeing Mastermind’s lair for ourselves,” she said firmly. “Something happened when Will was tracking him, something horrible.”
Steve looked as if he were going to protest, then looked back at Will’s door and nodded.
“You saw the gauntlet. And the Bureau’s being coy about the whole affair. I think we both know that can only add up to one thing,” she said, and raised an eyebrow.
“Will killed Mastermind,” Steve said reluctantly. It was horrible to think that their son could have murdered someone, but in their line of work, it was not only possible, it was actually very probable that they would have to kill a supervillain in order to get them to stop. Steve had killed over a dozen supervillains, and he regretted each and every one. Each time, there had been no other choice, but it made it no easier. Will was punishing himself for his crime, and he refused to talk about it. So the Strongholds had to find out for themselves.
“We better bring in the Peaces after we learn what we can,” Josie added. “Even if he won’t talk to Joy, at least she can give us some better idea of what to say. And maybe it would be easier for him to talk to Warren. Warren… understands pain.”
Warren’s mother, Joy Peace, a.k.a. the Peacemaker, was a powerful empath, able to read, project, and manipulate emotion. She helped stop wars and negotiate treaties, but she also was the counselor and psychiatrist for the whole superhero community. She was extremely ethical though, and never forced her powers on the unwilling. If Will refused her help, there was only so much she could do.
But Warren, a.k.a. Phoenix, had been on active hero duty for a year already. Several times he had been forced to hurt people, burn them, to get them to surrender. Twice already he had killed, a pair of evil twin telepaths that had been intent on ripping apart a nuclear power station. It had been either kill them or watch Maxville and most of the state go up in a nuclear holocaust. He had spent a lot of time with his mother getting over the guilt that had caused. Perhaps Warren would be able to crack the shell of Will’s pain better than his parents’ concern or his girlfriend’s sympathy.
“Should we get someone to stay here in case Will gets up?” Steve asked as the two got into costume for their trip to Denver. Josie sighed.
“Steve, I think the house could catch on fire right now and Will wouldn’t even care. Nothing is getting him out of that room,” she said with resignation. Then her face abruptly crumpled and Steve folded her into his arms.
A bare hour later, the Commander and Jetstream touched down at the Denver field office of the Bureau of Superpowered Affairs. Their fame had gotten them an immediate meeting with the director, Sebastian Corbett, a.k.a. Agent Astral, a powerful psychic.
“I believe I can understand why you’re here,” he said simply.
“Mastermind’s lair, what did you find?” the Commander demanded. Corbett looked very thoughtful for a minute.
“Are you sure you want to know?” he asked finally. They both looked at him incredulously.
“Our son hadn’t spoken, eaten, or left his room in two days. Yes, we want to know!” Jetstream snapped. Corbett rocked back in his seat at her fury, and quickly dialed up the holocam images they had taken.
“We found his lair by the hole Guardian had left in it. When we went in… we found this. It’s rather gory,” he warned, as he switched the images. Both of them gasped when the body came into focus, the head completely crushed, the wall smeared with blood and brains.
“Is that-?” the Commander got out.
“Yes, it’s Mastermind. It took some fairly extensive reconstructive work, but we finally confirmed it was him. That other pile of stuff on the floor is apparently one of Mastermind’s creations. We found the plans in his computer, this is what it looked like when it was whole,” he said, and flipped the holocam to a new image, showing Zom-Bot in its original form.
“It was a cyborg zombie,” Corbett explained. “Now, apparently Guardian was being held in this room.” The view switched again, and the Strongholds could see how Will had smashed the door open from the inside. When they caught sight of the frame and shackles, their breath caught. “The restraints were power-neutralizer shackles, and both them and the frame were made of adamantium-diamond composite. Apparently once the shackles had been turned off, Guardian was able to break them. That’s a very impressive feat, by the way. I’m not sure even you could do that, Commander.”
“What… happened in that room?” Jetstream asked, starting to shake. Corbett looked at her with sympathy, but didn’t stop.
“With the DNA evidence, it was apparent Guardian had been bound at the wrists and ankles, probably face-down, naked, on that frame. Mastermind had been sitting in the chair at the head of the frame. The cyborg zombie had been standing at the foot of the bed. We know that at least three times, Guardian vomited during his ordeal. There were no cameras in this room, and unfortunately there is no further hard evidence to suggest what else might have happened,” Corbett stated simply.
Jetstream burst into tears and the Commander looked quite ready to kill something.
“It’s a damn good thing Mastermind is already dead,” he said simply, cracking his knuckles. “You already know what happened though, don’t you?”
“One of my powers is pyschometry, object reading. For me, walls do talk. Mastermind was known to the Bureau to have several unsavory and illegal habits, pedophilia amongst them. He could also feel what his robots felt, particularly if they had some kind of flesh incorporated into them. He brought all of that to bear when he tortured Guardian,” Corbett explained obliquely.
“He raped him,” Jetstream said it first through her tears.
“By proxy of the cyborg zombie, yes. I believe he attempted some kind of mental torture as well, by using his powers against Guardian. And I have not the slightest qualm about Guardian’s treatment of Mastermind. He deserved far worse,” Corbett said, his jaw clenched tightly. The Commander was sitting back heavily in his chair, mentally reeling at the news, anger and disbelief a hard tangle within him.
“And when,” he asked, “were you going to tell us this? Another week? Two? Never?”
“When you came to us and were ready to hear. We had hoped that perhaps at home he might be able to recover,” the director explained.
“What are we going to do? He’s going to starve himself to death before he comes out of his room!” the Commander said, glaring at Corbett.
“We… we…” Jetstream tried to calm herself, “We’re going to bring in the Peacemaker and Phoenix. She could at least try to help him… and Phoenix is his best friend. Phoenix might understand at least.”
Corbett nodded solemnly, but had little further to add. Guardian was still living at home, and with his own parents standing by to make sure he didn’t either attempt suicide or go crazy, there wasn’t too much else the Bureau was willing to do at this point. No hospital could hold Guardian if he didn’t want to be held, so right now home was the best place for him. And that was a terrifying thought.