Chapter Text
“I’m here.”
“You don’t sound too happy about it.”
“There are two idiots here in superhero costumes. I feel like a moron.” Even over the phone, Jack sounds uncomfortable. “I don’t want to be here.”
“But you are.” Remy says. As he reaches his apartment door, he lowers his grocery bag to the floor, patting at his pockets. Why does he always forget where he puts his keys?
“But I am.” Jack agrees, giving a heavy sigh.
“I’m so proud of you,” Remy reminds him, “going to group therapy.”
“One session.”
“One session,” Remy agrees, finally finding the key in his inner pocket, “Though of course if you were to have a good time, maybe find a kindred spirit or two, and you wanted to go again next week, I would never think any less of you.”
With the door open, he grabs for the groceries and moves through into his kitchen. Jack says something else but Remy doesn’t hear, a little preoccupied as he notices the unfortunately too familiar guest sat on his shitty second hand couch.
Remy turns around, pulling his sunglasses from his pockets as he gives a nervous laugh, “Sorry, what was that?”
“I said, you’re such an optimist.” Jack teases.
“Well one of us should be.” With a well-practiced wrist-flip, the sunglasses are open and he’s pushing them onto his face. “Look, I got to go. Call me later?”
“No problem. I think we’re going in anyway. Be safe.”
“You too.”
-click-
Placing his phone on the side, Remy just about holds off from screaming aloud. He probably should have mentioned something but it’s been difficult enough to get Jack to go and talk to someone after everything that happened, not that Remy can really blame him. If he were to smell any excuse to ditch and run, the hero would take it. Besides Remy will be fine…probably.
“I refuse to talk to the back of your head.” the guest calls to him.
Taking a deep breath, Remy turns, “Dylan right? Or should I just call you Deceit?”
“I suppose,” Sat on the couch, is the faker. Brown jacket, cream shirt, smart pants, and yellow gloves. What gives him away though is that single golden eye. “A little overkill if you ask me.”
It’s been six months since ‘Dylan’ was exposed as a fraud. Local authorities approached the college about their employee after an anonymous tip-off by a concerned local resident. Not that it made any difference. By the time they broke into the fraud’s fake therapy room, he was long gone, and no one’s seen or heard from him since. It’s part of the reason Jack’s been reluctant to go to any kind of therapy. Trust issues.
“What do you want?”
“I want to help you, Remus.”
“Remy.” he corrects, but Deceit just chuckles.
“No actually, it’s Remus.” From his pocket he pulls a driver’s licence, flipping it over and reading off the name. “‘Remus Emile Wood’. Family names no doubt.”
“You stole my licence?”
“You left it behind when you broke into my office.”
“Wasn’t your office,” Remy counts off on his fingers, “you’re not a therapist, and if I left that behind it’s because you made me.”
“Details.” Waving the criticism away, Deceit places the licence on the small coffee table giving it a gentle tap before sitting back again. Remy is not impressed.
“Get out.”
“So rude.”
“Now.”
“Alright.” Deceit raises his hands defensively and stands, shrugging, “I mean I came here to help you keep your little boyfriend safe. But if you don’t want my help...” he starts moving towards the door.
It’s so obvious he’s baiting. From the way he talks, to the way he’s holding himself, oozing with confidence that’s sickening to watch. Deceit is baiting him and Remy knows he should just let him go. Let the pompous ass walk out the door, kick it closed behind him and spend the next hour taking out his frustrations on wii boxing.
“Wait.”
Deceit stops, not even trying to hide his smirk as he glances over his shoulder.
Remy points to the couch. “Sit down.”
Why is he doing this? This guy is a liar, he is literally calling him Deceit!
As the uninvited guest sits on the couch, Remy moves to put away the groceries, making sure to take his sweet time. Deceit sits, waiting patiently, seemingly unbothered by the delay. Finally, the librarian strolls to stand on the other side of the coffee table, towering over the liar.
“I’m listening.”
Deceit can’t help but roll his eyes at the dramatics. “You should know I don’t want to hurt Jack.”
“Bullshit.”
“I don’t. The people I work for on the other hand are very interested in stopping him.”
“Why?”
“They have it on very good authority that he’s going to become a big problem for them somewhere down the line. And heroes are like the hydra. You kill one, you inspire someone else to step up and take their place. That’s why they brought me in.” Deceit holds a hand to his chest and has the gall to look pleased with himself. “Subterfuge. Convince him to hang up the boots himself. He doesn’t die, no one rises up to avenge him, the cycle breaks and the higher-ups can go about their business unchallenged.”
Remy huffs a dead laugh. “I don’t imagine they’ll be too happy with you failing the-.”
“I have a deal for you.” Deceit shouts over him, “If you agree, I’ll tell them we left it too late. I’ll tell them he’s already on the hero’s path and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”
Remy raises an eyebrow “And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll slap those pathetic glasses off your face, take control of your mind, remove you from the picture, and double down on my efforts to unwravel Jack’s life. How does that sound?”
Remy blinks, a little taken aback. He suddenly feels like he doesn’t have anywhere near as much control of this situation as he thought.
“I won’t kill anyone.” he states.
“Don’t be crass.” Deceit holds out a folded piece of paper. “I need help looking for someone.”
Remy takes the paper, unfolding it. He expects there to be a name, but it’s just a phone number in an untidy scrawl.
“Who are you looking for?”
“Emile Picani.”
You can hear a pin drop in the seconds of silence that drag out between them.
That is definitely a name that Remy knows. The kind of thing you don’t forget, no matter how old you are, or how far you run. Remy gives an empty chuckle.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree. I haven’t seen my dad since-”
“No one has.” He cuts Remy off again, “But you’re his son, and eventually he’s going to come back this way. All I’m asking is that when he does, you send me a message.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Remy looks down at the number. “And what if I decide to warn him about you?”
“Feel free.” Deceit gives a disinterested shrug. “I doubt he’ll care.”
Remy looks off to the side. He barely knows his dad, hasn’t seen him in nearly 10 years, but ratting him out to this...this snake feels wrong.
But then there’s Jack, who’s still having nightmares over what this guy may or may not have done to him. Sure the hero lies and says he’s worrying about other things, but Remy isn’t as dumb as he likes to lead people to believe. He sees the truth of it.
“I promise,” Deceit gently tugs at one of this gloves, slowly pulling it off. “I’m not out to hurt any of you.”
Free of the glove, he holds out his bare hand, an obvious prompt for a handshake. Remy stares at it, uncertain, honestly a little scared. Eventually, he takes Deceit’s hand in his own firmly shaking it.
Anything to protect Jack.