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chaotic-orphan · 11 months

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please please continue vendetta

Vendetta: part Four

Part one here

Part two here

Continued from part three here

Oh I absolutely will, Vendetta is my happy fic, you can't stop me... Also sorry for the delay, and it is also Unedited :p enjoyy!

*~*~*~*~*

Hero and Vigilante had only walked down the corridor towards the medical ward when Medic and Teleport popped out in front of the doors, looking a little worse for wear.

Medic’s stumbled forward, throwing their weight against the doors they opened, Villains pushing on them, shouting and taunting Medic. Hero’s hands went to the hilt of their blades in anticipation for the inevitable breach. Vigilante threw their hands up, running to Medic’s aid, slamming their whole telepathic strength against the doors just long enough for Medic to step back, fingertips growing a sickly green to seal it. Sure enough the space between the doors disappeared until they were fused as one. Then Medic focused on the hinges, fusing them to the walls, until the doorway that was once there was a solid wall.

The Villains wouldn’t be getting through. At that realisation Hero’s hands relaxed from the hilts of their blades.

Medic dropped their hands and sagged against the wall, looking up at Hero and Vigilante with a nod. Medic did a double take when they saw Vigilante, their eyes burning with fury. Before Hero could step in, Medic had lunged and grabbed Vigilante by the collar of their shirt and slammed them back against the opposite wall.

“Medic!” Hero cried.

“Medic get off them!” Teleport said, voice strained, exhausted, deflated. She was leaning her body weight on the wall, half bent in relief that there would be no more fighting.

“You let them in, Vigilante, didn’t you?”

“Medic I swear—“

Medic pulled Vigilante forward and slammed them back against the wall, silencing Vigilante’s defence into a soft oomph.

“You swore once before, Vigilante, I won’t let you make a fool of us again.”

“Medic!” Hero said, putting a hand on Medic’s fist keeping Vigilante pinned. Hero knew Vigilante could have used their power by now to get Medic off them, Medic knew that too, distantly, but Vigilante let it play out for whatever reason.

“Medic,” Hero said again softer, and Medic turned to look at Hero.

Hero had to swallow the gasp. Their eyes were red and bruised from crying, their bright blue eyes brighter from tears and their sclera painted with burst blood vessels.

“Doct—“ Medic began with a sniffle, words turning watery as they met Hero’s eyes. “Doctor’s dead. He’s dead…”

Behind them Hero heard Teleport let out a strangled sob, trying to quieten it as much as possible. Hero nodded sympathetically, and said, “I’m so sorry, Medic.”

Medic started shaking, his shoulders bunching as he turned his face back to Vigilante. Pain turning furious as he curled his fists into the fabric of Vigilante’s shirt, pinning them back painfully.

“And it’s all Vigilante’s fault.”

“Medic I didn’t, I swear. It was [random Villain]. You have to believe me. I would never target the medical ward.”

“And yet you’re somehow here now?!” Medic growled, almost animalistic. Medic’s fingertips started glowing a sickly green, and Hero fought to push Medic off Vigilante. “Maybe I should seal your lungs and see how you like it.”

“Medic stop it! You’re not thinking straight,” Hero said, drawing their sword at their lower back. Medic glanced at Hero, eyes narrowing slightly.

“You gonna fight me, Hero?”

“If no one else will knock the sense into you, yeah. I’ll do the job.”

Medic sniffed, but after a moment his fingertips stopped glowing and he stepped back from Vigilante. Hero let out a sigh of relief, sheathing their blade again with a shink.

Medic took another step back, pinched the bridge of his nose, then collapsed. Hero’s hands shot out to catch him but Vigilante was quicker, grabbing Medic’s arm and under his armpit, gently slowing his descent. Medic groaned as Vigilante propped him up against the wall, folding in on Vigilante’s strong hands keeping him sitting upright.

“Medic?” Teleport asked. Medic looked down at their stomach to see a patch of blood slowly grow, dark and fast.

“Shit…” Medic groaned, putting a hand on his side and lifting his shirt with a grunt. Hero gasped when they saw the large gash slashed deep across the right side of Medic’s hip. It was angry, dark blood bubbling up and spilling over the edges, where burst veins and blood vessels spiderwebbed from it. Shaky green fingers ran down along the edges, starting to seal the wound as they ran the length of it.

“One of the Villains must have got me… I didn’t even notice,” Medic said, gritting his teeth and grabbing a hold of Vigilante’s wrist that helped keep him upright with a gasp, “Motherfu… shit!”

“Medic?”

“I’m okay,” Medic forced out, taking in quick shallow breaths. “I’m okay. It’s almost— fuck!”

Medic hummed in pain letting out a startled yell and then clamped his jaw shut, gritting his teeth again. Medic’s leg bent at the knee and he drove himself back into the wall, crying out, wincing and shaking, trembling with the effort of healing himself.

“Medic,” Teleport sniffed, rushing to his side and dropping beside him. Eventually he stopped trembling, his body grew heavy but he nodded that he was okay and everyone collectively relaxed. Medic sat back, panting painfully, the wound pathetically stitched back together with glowing green edges still binding it, but at least it stopped the bleeding. He turned to face Teleport with beads of sweat running down his forehead and tried for a smile.

Teleport reached into her pocket and pulled out a bar of chocolate and sweets. He laughed, then let out a small cry of pain.

“Stop laughing, you idiot,” Teleport chided, sniffing, but her lips tugged up into a weak, watery smile. “Sugar helps you recuperate.”

Hero’s attention turned to Vigilante and found them already looking at Hero. They met Hero’s eyes and Hero knew they were thinking the same thing. The guilt wrapped like barbed wire around their heart but they didn’t have time to stay and wait for Medic to get better. They had to find Superhero.

“Medic—“ Hero began but Medic cut them off.

“I know,” Medic smiled, though it looked more like a grimace than anything else. He pushed Vigilante’s hand away and nodded. “Go on. Tell Superhero Doctor’s dead. We’ll look after the people here as best we can. Try and lock down the Guild again.”

Vigilante straightened up, then glanced at Teleport. Hero shook their head but Vigilante didn’t get the hint. “Teleport, do you mind putting us back in the thick of it?”

Teleport glanced up, blue eyes watery and red from crying. She sniffled, nodded and tightened her blonde hair into a ponytail. She placed a delicate hand on Medic’s thigh.

“I’ll be back in a flash.”

“Off you pop,” said Medic, some ease finally overcoming his face. Medic rested his head against the wall and shot her a comforting smile. “Go. I’ll be here.”

Teleport stood up and offered a hand to both Hero and Vigilante. The minute Hero took Teleport’s hand the room swirled and swallowed them and changed. Hero gasped but there was no air and then there was screaming and Hero’s feet touched earth again and they could breathe.

Vigilante stood up straight while Hero doubled over and dry heaved into the air.

“Thank you, Teleport,” said Vigilante.

“Good luck.”

There was a loud popping sound and Teleport disappeared from view.

“Hero!”

Hero stood up immediately, head rushing as they straightened. A hand bunched in their shirt and yanked them backwards before they could straighten properly and then they saw why. A dagger point was levitating in front of their eyes, held in place by Vigilante.

“Thanks,” Hero breathed, relaxing slightly into Vigilante’s hold. They got their bearings and stood on their own, eyes focusing on the dagger as it dropped to the ground unceremoniously.

“Vigilante!” Hero could feel Vigilante stiffen at the sing song voice. Hero drew their swords slowly, turning to face their would be attacker.

They faced a raven haired girl Hero recognised from her wanted posters. Lethal with daggers, smile just as sharp. She wore black combats, a black tank top and black high heeled boots. Her daggers and throwing knives attached to every inch of her body. Her calves, thighs, shoulder holsters, across her chest and back in an X. She was twirling a delicate blade between her fingers as she tilted her head, regarding Hero and Vigilante with cat like interest.

“Did Hero bat their eyes at you and turn you against us, Vigde?”

Vigilante settled their expression into a neutral one. “Sure, Assassin, that’s what happened.”

She pouted. “Pity,” then her dark eyes turned to Hero and she shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to bring you both to Supervillain. Oh well.”

The words had barely left her mouth when she threw the first barrage of blades. Hero stepped in front of Vigilante, crossing their blades and batting as many as the knives that they could. The ones Hero missed Vigilante caught except the one that cut Hero right under the eye and they winced as warm blood trickled from the cut and turned cold in the air.

“First blood goes to me I guess,” Assassin said, voice as sweet as candy. “Do you want to yield now or shall we go again?”

Vigilante in reply turned their palms skyward and Assassin’s daggers rose from the ground, turning their tips toward her. She grinned a wide toothy smile at Vigilante’s reply.

“The fun way. Excellent.”

Vigilante sent the daggers flying towards her and she moved like ballerina out of the way. She glided through the air, moving this way and bending like a gymnast to avoid the daggers. She eventually landed with graceful feet, not getting hit once. The second round she ducked under and danced out of the way of, she added a little spin at the end just because she could.

“Vigde, you’ve lost your touch.”

Hero stepped back and whispered to Vigilante, “don’t pick them up again. Leave them behind her.”

“But—“

“Trust me.”

“Always.”

Vigilante raised their hand suddenly, catching the blade aimed for Hero’s hand, the tip just grazing Hero’s skin. Vigilante’s lips turned down into a scowl as they stepped forward. The knife turned in the air, point turning towards Assassin.

“That was rude, Assassin.”

“Awh, strike a nerve did I?” Vigilante launched the dagger towards her, and she danced out of the way. The knife turned with her and when she faced Vigilante and Hero again the dagger was buried to the hilt in her hand. She cringed, gasping, shock struck eyes looked down to see her own blade imbedded in her skin.

She glared up at Vigilante then, face screwing up with anger. Vigilante tilted their head. “Awh, strike a nerve did I?”

“And here I thought we were friends,” she said, voice coloured with hurt, “but if you want to play rough, fine.” Assassin grabbed the hilt of her knife and yanked it out of her hand with a grimace. “Let’s play rough.”

Hero looked on horrified at the blood, which pumped from her hand, but Assassin just smiled coldly. The smile not reaching her eyes that stared deadly at them both.

“Hero, go. Find Superhero,” Vigilante said. “I can handle Assassin.”

“No. I’m not leaving you! We can take her together and then find Superhero.”

“We’ll waste time!” Vigilante argued, sharply raising both hands, palm out trying to stop the throwing knives from finding their intended target. Vigilante stepped backwards, knocking Hero back a step too, as they grunted with effort until finally the knives slowed to a stop and clattered to the ground useless.

“You should go,” Vigilante said, a little more breathless than before.

“No,” Hero said, a finality in their voice. They stepped up beside Vigilante, slashing at the couple knives still soaring through the air. Hero smiled, the weight of their swords in their hands like a heavy, comforting blanket. They were calm and determined, happy to be on the battlefield again, even if they’d never admit it.

“Neither of you are going anywhere, unless you want to surrender now and make it easy on me?” Assassin said sweetly, batting her eyelashes at them.

Hero lunged in front of Vigilante, two swords raised like a shield as they heard three knives clang, clang, clang uselessly off of Hero’s blades and fall with a dull thud to the ground.

“No?” Assassin called, lengthening the word with her pretty drawl. “Okaaayyyy.”

The pair of them moved like a well oiled machine. Vigilante rushed around Hero, throwing one arm wide and sweeping it to the side, knocking the blades off course. Instead of trying to stop their movement, Vigilante just redirected it away from them in a wide arc. The knives had barely touched the ground when there was more flying towards them.

When a quick knife flipped end over end in the air aiming for Vigilante’s throat, Hero was there. They quickly raised their vambrace and bit their lip as the knife lodged into the hard leather. That would leave a bruise. Hero sheathed their sword at their back, yanking the knife out of their armour and gave it to Vigilante to throw back at Assassin.

She didn’t let that one touch her. Assassin made sure of that, she threw some cover for herself to stop Vigilante from focusing on hitting her, and instead worried about moving to protect Hero.

The three of them were panting, tired. Hero was looking at her as she reached for another throwing knife but found the sheaths empty.

“Truce?” Hero asked. She just grinned a razor sharp smile and winked at Hero.

Assassin unclipped the clasp keeping the bandoliers crisscrossing her torso in place, and yanked them both down. In one swift movement her empty throwing knife sheaths were replaced with two fully armed ones. She clipped them into place, and it was like she was back to the beginning of their fight, like she had never used her blades and was just getting started.

“Are you offering your surrender Hero?” Assassin asked sweetly, her dark eyes going to Vigilante after the question left her lips. “Supervillain did say they would give favour to whoever brought you to them. Isn’t that right, Vidge?”

Hero’s heart skipped a beat but they didn’t let it show. They trusted Vigilante, they did. Hero believed them when Vigilante kissed them, believed them when they told them that they were on Hero’s side and nobody else’s.

Hero’s faith shouldn’t be so easy to shake with Assassin’s words. Her words that were designed to throw a wrench into Hero and Vigilante’s teamwork, make them make a mistake.

They should trust Vigilante implicitly, but if Hero was completely honest with themselves, they could have admitted the words shook the foundations of their faith in Vigilante.

So Hero decided to not dwell on it, and stay blissfully ignorant. They could focus on these stupid thoughts later. Hero drew their second sword at their back, turning the hilt over in their palm on instinct.

“Hmm, okay truce. Here are the terms, Hero, you drop your swords and let me take you to Supervillain willingly, so I get the reward and Supervillain knows I had nothing to do with Vigilante’s betrayal,” said Assassin. Then she turned her attention to Vigilante, and her expression turned cold. “And Vigilante I want you to get on your knees, kiss my boots and beg for my forgiveness.”

“Is that what you’re angling for, Assassin?” Vigilante threw back. “Are you hoping Supervillain will assume your innocence if you bring in Hero, after we were such good friends?”

Hero watched as Assassin’s expression wound tighter with fury. Seems like Vigilante had hit the nail on the head. The beautiful, lethal head.

“If I bring you in, he’ll believe I had nothing to do with your mutiny.”

“Do you think that. Actually? That Supervillain will show you mercy? Or are you just hoping?”

The words had barely left Vigilante’s lips when a knife was thundering through the air. It whistled sharply past Vigilante’s temple, close enough for Hero to hear it slice into Vigilante’s skin before shooting past them.

“The latter then,” Vigilante said, turning their head slightly to smile at Hero. As if to say I’m fine, see? Don’t worry. Reassuring and kind, like they always were with Hero.

Hero glanced back at Assassin to see her rage plain as day on her face. Hero whispered, “Vigilante, rile her up more and get the blades behind her ready.”

“You ruined a good thing, Vidge!” Assassin all but screeched, storming closer and shooting two daggers towards them. A longer one she pulled from her thigh strap and the other from her shoulder holster. Hero deflected them easily, not letting them touch Vigilante. “We had Supervillain practically eating from our hands and you threw it all away for— for— for them?!”

“I never left them, Assassin. You were just foolish enough to believe that I did.”

“You—“ Assassin yelled, then stopped short and grinned wide, breaking into a fit of giggles. “You— You fucking idiot. New plan. I kill Hero and blame it all on you. I’ll enjoy watching Supervillain rip you apart.”

Assassin drew two knives and threw them, then four more were all sent straight for Hero’s throat, neck, chest, hands. Hero blocked the ones coming for their hands with a slash of the first sword, angling their elbow up to protect their face gritting their teeth as a knife bounced off their vambrace, and still more daggers zoomed through the air towards them.

Hero panicked and drew their second sword up in a wide arc.

A too wide arc.

Hero gasped as two daggers made their way through Hero’s defence. One unseen dagger sliced through the side of Hero’s thigh. Hero let out a startled gasp, almost falling from the shock of it, unbalanced. The other went to Hero’s opposite knee. The tip of the blade dug an inch into Hero’s flesh and dragged itself around Hero’s knee before hurtling past Hero again.

Wide eyes went to Hero’s and Hero dropped, their only saving grace was Vigilante slamming a hand out their invisible hand holding Hero up. It felt like Hero had stumbled over a precipice, dangling from a cliff. Vigilante’s actually hands to Hero’s aid, helping them stand and Hero gasped out in pain as Hero put weight on their leg.

“Hero.”

“It’s okay. I’m— fine,” Hero blinked the pain away, hand tightening on Vigilante’s shoulder as they looked over to see Assassin grinning at them. Her dark eyes were wild and wide, her tongue sticking out between her teeth as she took in Hero’s handicap with a giddy sort of glee. “We need to take her out of commission, now, Vigilante.”

“Hero—“

“Now. I’m fine. We can’t let her hit us again.”

Vigilante screwed their lips up them settled them into a thin line, they grabbed Hero’s sword and dropped it to the ground. Hero looked at them with frightened eyes that quickly turned to understanding when Vigilante pressed Hero’s hand against Hero’s knee.

Hero nearly cried when they felt the blood pouring through their fingers. They didn’t. Just bit their cheek and clamped their lips shut tight. No weakness in front of the enemy. Not until they were alone.

“Come on, Vidge, they’re incapacitated now you can give up the charade! We can go back to us.”

“I think we should see other people,” Vigilante said, voice blank and void of any feeling. Hero’s head shot up, glancing at Assassin who’s dark eyes were burning holes in Hero. Hero didn’t focus on that though, instead they watched Assassin’s daggers rise like a swarm of hornets behind them.

Before Assassin could say another word, Vigilante raised their hand and slashed it through the air. Hero let out a half strangled scream that got caught in their throat.

Assassin opened their mouth, her lips moving, but it didn’t matter.

What she was saying was inconsequential.

She was speaking but no sound came out, her lips and tongue still moving to form words. With every attempted word the blood spilling from her throat bubbled and gurgled out of her neck.

Hero nearly threw up when Vigilante’s hand moved again and slashed down Assassin’s body in a diagonal line. It took a minute for anything to happen, the strap of her bandolier over her chest fell unceremoniously to the floor.

It started slow, just lines of red appearing on her skin like red sharpie. Red oozed from her hairline, went through her pretty eye down her face, through her pretty bow lips. More lines appeared, blood dark, almost black, and then it started flowing and Hero had to look away.

Hero let out sudden, unexpected tears. Fear, guilt and disgust crawling through their veins and taking root in Hero’s stomach and they turned away to throw up. Assassin’s death was too violent. Too horrifying. The stuff of nightmares, and Vigilante did it with the simple flick of a wrist.

Before Hero collapsed, Vigilante was there, gathering Hero in their arms and turning them away from Hero’s pool of vomit.

“Sssh, it’s okay. I know, it’s done now. She won’t hurt us again.”

Hero was trembling in Vigilante’s strong arms, goosebumps rising on their skin, wanting to speak but emotion emotion clogging their throat… like Assassin, when her vocal chords were cut and she didn’t know and kept speaking, blood gurgling—

Hero screwed their eyes shut but the image lodged in Hero’s mind and they couldn’t shake it. Instead they doubled up, vomiting the contents of their stomach onto the ground.

“Sssh, Hero, it’s okay. I got you. Sssh,” Vigilante hummed, rubbing Hero’s back and single-handedly supporting all of Hero’s weight. “You’re okay, come on, let’s get you somewhere a little less open. Then I’ll look at your knee.”

Hero didn’t react as Vigilante straightened them and put one arm around Hero’s shoulders and one under Hero’s knees and picked them up, carrying them bridal style to a small trench that was dug behind them.

Hero’s mind was like white noise, static and numb and somehow piercingly loud all at once. They couldn’t feel the pain from their leg. Shock? Physical or mental Hero didn’t know but they didn’t want to question it either right now, afraid if they dug too dee they wouldn’t like what they see.

“I got your swords, don’t worry,” Vigilante told Hero. Their voice was so warm and soft, so reassuring. Always reassuring and kind with Hero, to the point where Hero forgot how deadly Vigilante was. How ruthless.

There was a reason they weren’t a hero.

There was a reason they told Hero they were more Villain than Vigilante.

Who was it that once said, when someone shows you who they are, believe them?

Hero should have believed Vigilante when they told Hero who they were.

It wasn’t like Hero and Vigilante never had this discussion before either, about the morality of killing. They had fought over it many times, usually ending with Vigilante sweet talking Hero and smoothing everything over, and every time Hero conceded.

They descended into the trench with Vigilante’s familiar invisible hold making a stairs for them. Vigilante walked the trench to find a small hut built into the side of the wall.

Two beds were pushed against each wall, leaving a small walkway through the space that was only big enough to fit the beds and one person walking through. A small beside table with two drawers sat in the middle of the beds, a chest sat at the foot of each bed and a cabinet shelf was hanging on the wall to the right of the door.

Vigilante lay the pale Hero on a bed, a small sad smile gracing their lips as they tucked a strand of Hero’s hair behind their ear, “don’t look at me like that. If I didn’t kill her she would have killed you, Hero. Trust me. I know… I knew her.”

Hero didn’t reply, just leaned into Vigilante’s warm palm on their cheek. It was as much forgiveness as Vigilante would get. It was as much forgiveness as Hero would give, so they both accepted it, silently agreeing to not breach the subject again.

Vigilante’s smile turned more content, as they leaned down and pressed a kiss to Hero’s lips, short and sweet, and saying everything they couldn’t. All too soon, Vigilante pulled away to a slight whine from Hero, low in their throat.

Vigilante grinned, pressing their forehead against Hero’s, hand still on Hero’s cheek. “If we had time… no, when we have time I’m not letting you out of my bed for a week.”

Vigilante straightened then, pressing a kiss to Hero’s forehead and withdrawing their contact from Hero altogether.

“As it happens you still have bleeding legs, so priorities,” Vigilante chuckled, then started moving about the hut. Searching for anything left over and useful in the bedside locker, under the beds, inside the chests and the cabinet in the wall.

Hero looked down at their leg as of fact checking Vigilante’s words and blinked back their surprise. The blood was dark, almost black but when it flowed down Hero’s leg it turned into a bright cherry red. They had forgotten.

Such a strange, pressing issue to forget, but somehow in the horror of it all Hero had forgotten.

“Ahah!” Vigilante said, turning back to Hero with a grin a first aid kit in their hands. “We got lucky.”

Vigilante walked over to Hero’s cot and kneeled down in front of it, opening the contents of the first aid kit and pulling out bandages, medical tape, gauze and antiseptic wipes that glowed the same green Medic’s power glowed.

“No pain relief,” Vigilante hummed, searching the box for blue leaves but coming up empty. They just raised their head and smiled sheepishly at Hero. “If you want you can squeeze my hand really tight.”

“While you stitch me up?”

Vigilante frowned, looking into the box again. “Fuck there’s no stitches Hero.”

“Okay,” Hero said, leaning their head against the wall. “Okay. Sure. Okay.”

Vigilante blinked at Hero, thumb going to their lower lip and running it back and forth. “Can we not just put a bandage on it?”

“That’s all we can do right now,” Hero nodded, sitting up slightly with an effort, against the wall on the bed. “I’ll let Medic heal it when I see them again. I need you to clean it and bandage it up so we can go back out there.”

“You shouldn’t fight in your state, Hero.”

“We still need to find Superhero, Vigilante,” Hero sighed.

Pragmatic.

They needed to be pragmatic.

They needed Vigilante to be pragmatic, not emotional.

Hero swallowed. “If we clean it, and hope for the best we should be able to deal with the bleeding.”

“And if we can’t?” Vigilante asked, eyes dark.

“Then… I don’t know.”

“Hero—“

“I know,” Hero said, tired. “I know, I’m just freaking out right now and I need you to work with me here.”

“I don’t know that much about medical stuff, Hero! I wasn’t trained in the Guild—“

“I know, I know. It’s okay,” Hero said grabbing Vigilante’s nearest hand. Vigilante looked at Hero and Hero smiled reassuringly. “So what I need you to do is, after I take my hand off the wound, to try and clean it with the wipes as best as you can. I can’t do it because I won’t be able to keep the pressure up, okay?”

Vigilante nodded, lips screwing up to the side of their face, unimpressed. Still, they reached into the first aid kit and pulled out the wipes from the first aid kit.

Hero lifted their hand and blood started pumping out of the wound. Hero could feel Vigilante’s invisible power in their skin slowing the bleeding a little as they wiped at the wound. Hero hissed and yelped, retracting their leg sharply but Vigilante grabbed it by the ankle and kept it steady as they cleaned it.

“It’s okay, Hero. You’re okay. I need to wipe it again.”

“Okay,” Hero hissed, struggling to not fight Vigilante’s strong hands holding their leg down. Hero cried out as Vigilante rubbed their leg again with a new wipe and renewed vigour. Hero clenched their teeth and screwed their eyes shut, letting out shuddering shaky breaths through their lips.

“Okay, I’m done. I think.”

Hero risked a glance down at their leg and saw how deep the knife went, maybe half an inch down into the side of their knee. Hero saw the yellow tissue below and felt their stomach swirl again at the rawness of it. Hero swallowed, trying not to throw up again.

“Thank you,” Hero breathed, a little more green than before, shaking hands reaching for the bandages in the first aid kit. “Hold that as long as you can.”

“Hero, sit back,” Vigilante commanded, taking the bandages from Hero’s hands. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“Okay,” Hero said, too tired to fight Vigilante. They told Vigilante how to bandage it up properly, putting the dressing pad on first and securing it with the medical tape.

After it was done, Vigilante climbed into bed beside Hero, holding Hero in their arms. They were warm and Hero let themselves relax in their arms.

They could find Superhero in a minute.

Once they moved from the hut they had no idea what would be waiting for them.

Another Assassin? Not afraid of doing incapacitating damage to Hero or will it be Vigilante next time? Someone as ruthless as Villain or Other Villain to come and drag them both to Supervillain.

The weight of the possibilities was overwhelming, but Hero lay in Vigilante’s arms for a while longer. Safe as Vigilante ran their thumb over Hero’s knuckles, hands clasped in between them.

It may be the last chance Hero would ever get to do it, so there they stayed.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

The Orphanage (tag-list — lmk if you wanna be removed or added): @micechomper

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eerieonlakeerie · 2 years

Text

The Ghost of Captain James Byrd

Photo provided by: Buffalo News

"Local legend, folklorists and supernatural guides have it that the old hotel on Hamburg’s shore – known for decades as Dock at the Bay and more recently as Dos Amigos – is haunted by the ghost of Captain James Byrd."

"The sad tale goes that Byrd was a member of Commodore Oliver Hazard Perry’s crew aboard the USS Lawrence, anchored off Hamburg’s shore during the War of 1812, and that Byrd regularly left the ship without leave for trysts with his girlfriend at the Willink Hotel, which is what the Dock at the Bay was called at that time.

When Perry learned of this desertion, according to the local legend, he ordered Byrd shot. And Byrd’s spirit now haunts the old hotel, the spirit guides say.

Like the telling of many old stories, there is some truth to this tale. But several of the facts became twisted with age and retelling. Nonetheless, the real story – though murky in some ways – is more tragic than the folklore.

Photo provided by: Buffalo News

In fact, the true story generated much sympathy – even anger – among many Americans two centuries ago, and led to a ballad so popular that it was recited for decades by residents of Western New York, Pennsylvania and Ohio.

“In the early nineteenth century, when the new nation was still forging its identity, Bird’s heroism and subsequent death served the competing interests of partisan politics and national mythmaking while also reminding the postrevolutionary generation of the dangers of arbitrary power,” according to Traci Langworthy, writing in The Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography.

Newspapers and archives do record an execution on Lake Erie for desertion during the War of 1812. But the man’s name was James Bird. He was a soldier-marine. And he was a corporal.

Bird was arrested and then executed for desertion from Perry’s flagship, the Lawrence. That much is certain. But explanations for his desertion varied – from romantic to patriotic to pragmatic.

And by all accounts, he fought bravely a year earlier during the pivotal Battle of Lake Erie.

Bird was born Dec. 20, 1785, to John and Rebecca Montanye Bird.

He volunteered for the War of 1812 in the Wilkes-Barre area of Pennsylvania, where the family had moved, and was a member of a company of artillerymen that marched to Erie, Pa., according to the "History of Luzerne County." In Erie, Commodore Perry needed volunteers for his nine newly constructed ships that were to take on the British ships wreaking havoc on American settlements on Lake Erie. Bird volunteered as a marine.

During the Battle of Lake Erie in September of 1813 – famous for Perry’s after action report, “We have met the enemy, and they are ours” – Bird was aboard the flagship Lawrence. Though seriously wounded, he continued to fight valiantly.

“Towards the close of the engagement, a canister shot struck him on the shoulder as he was stooping to his gun,” The Wilkes-Barre Gleaner reported Nov. 16, 1813, in an account of Bird’s heroics during the battle. “He was instantly covered with blood, and his officer ordered him below. He ventured to disobey, preferring to do duty while he had life to abandoning his post. But the blood flowed so fast that another order was issued to go below. He ran down, got a hasty bandage on the wound, came again on deck and although his left arm was useless – yet he handed cartridges and performed the utmost service in his power with his right, until the stars and stripes waved gloriously over the foe.”

A year later, Bird had recovered from his wounds and was again a crew member of the Lawrence. It wasn’t long before he got into his fatal trouble.

He left the ship without leave.

One version of his desertion suggests a pragmatic explanation. He believed his enlistment was up.

“During the War of 1812, soldiers and sailors had little knowledge of military law and were tenacious of their rights as citizens,” Chautauqua County Historian Obed Edson explained in a paper delivered Sept. 19, 1913, to the Chautauqua Society of Historical and Natural Science.

Bird and some others thought they had enlisted just for the Battle on Lake Erie, according to Edson, so he and a few shipmates headed for home.

But the Americans were preparing for another battle with the British, an invasion of Canada, and one officer wanted to make an example of deserters. In this account, Bird and two others were arrested in Westfield and returned to the ship in Erie for court martial.

Then there is the patriotic explanation for the desertion.

That comes from the “History of Luzerne County.” Bird had learned of the intended attack on New Orleans and marched off with others to join Gen. Andrew Jackson’s forces, according to this version. He was apprehended in Pittsburgh and brought back for court martial.

“Poor fellow! Shot for an excess of bravery,” the author wrote.

The romantic explanation of Bird’s desertion comes from the folk ballad. The ballad has it that he left the ship to visit his sweetheart, Mary Blain, who was seriously ill, in Forsyth, Pa.

Where all these explanations agree is that Bird was tried and executed quickly after capture.

A court martial was hastily arranged, and Bird and two other deserters were condemned to death. An appeal to stay Bird’s execution until Perry – who was not in Erie at the time – could review the court martial was denied. One naval officer refused to sign his death warrant, but another officer did.

One of the deserters, a man named Davis, was hanged from the mast of the USS Niagara, while Bird and the third deserter, a man named Rankin, were forced to kneel over their coffins and shot on the ship’s deck.

“All three men were buried on the sandy flat at the entrance to the Erie Harbor,” Capt. Daniel Dobbins, who was present, later wrote,

On the day before he died, Bird wrote a farewell letter to his family that was printed in the Wilkes-Barre Gleaner soon after his execution. It reads in part:

“I am the most miserable and desolate child of the family – Dear Parents, let my brothers and sisters read this letter, for it is the last they can ever receive from my hand, for by the law of our country I am doomed and sentenced to death for deserting from the marines at Lake Erie ... . I have but a few moments to make peace with my maker. I leave you only for a short time here in this most troublesome world; but I hope that by the constant prayer we shall meet in the world above.”

Bird gave no explanation for his desertion, and he became a martyr to many. The pathetic story of James Bird was familiar to all living along the frontier, and was commemorated in the ... ballad written in sympathy with popular feeling,” according to the Centennial History of Chautauqua County. “For many years it was the most popular of ballads. It was so often sung and repeated as to be transmitted to the present time in many instances by the memory alone.”

The popularity of the ballad and the tyranny of his death resonated with many on the frontier for decades.

“One element of the ballad’s reception remained constant over time: the willingness of Bird’s admirers to overlook the youth’s potential flaws, lest they jeopardize his merits as a folk hero,” Langworthy wrote in The Pennsylvania Magazine of History. “Over time, the ballad nearly became secondary to the anecdotes surrounding it, and the “truth” of the young marine’s life became as malleable as its meaning.

While some may claim that James Bird’s ghost haunts a hotel in Hamburg, residents in northeastern Pennsylvania claim his remains.

He was reburied in Forty Fort Cemetery, Wilkes-Barre, in 1935 with a monument dedicated by the Luzerne County Chapter of Daughters of 1812.”

#Shipwrecks & Ghost Ships #War Story #The War of 1812

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