Chapter Text
Aw hell…
That was never the best thought to have when first waking up but with the throbbing headache and bright light pointing at them it was pretty accurate. The last thing Morgan remembered was hearing the alarm he had painstakingly avoided setting off during his break-in at the First National Bank down on 5th. He remembered hearing the blaring and thinking he couldn't possibly have set it off; he was nowhere near a sensor at this point. And then he, Carmine the masked burglar, was struck over the head with something very hard and his vision swirled into blackness. So here he is, tied- no chained. fuck. to some kind of stubby concrete post in the middle of what was certainly not an empty warehouse.
"Ngh… well I'm awake…" He said into the nothingness and tried to squint past the bright light and the concussion. He thought he heard movement but he still couldn't see anything. "...can we just cut to the chase here… My head is killing me."
That earned him a sinister chuckle from the darkness, not what Morgan wanted but at least it was acknowledgement. So now he just waited and tugged at his chains a little more. Eventually a figure moved out into the light. Hell.
"Awwww so the little baby thief's awake now. How's it going Pinky?" Mocked Tauntfiend one of the Guardians, a B-tier vigilante group that took the phrase 'Hard on Crime' to painful extremes.
"...It's Carmine." Morgan replied, because if he was gonna get his ass kicked he might as well go all in.
"We don't give a shit, kid." Came another voice, soon revealed to be Steelhand, another Guardian.
"Well I'm sure as hell not a kid. But what do you give a shit about? Why am I here?"
And that's when Morgan heard a voice that made his blood run cold. "...You are here because… We have a few questions for you… Mr. Carmine." Said the clipped baratone woman's voice. And dressed in her signature black was Queenclasp. The Crime Boss of Capitol City. An A-tier villian way the fuck out of Morgan's weight class. And a stone cold bitch with the invulnerability to back it up.
"Um… And what might those be?" Morgan asked try desperately to remember if he accidentally slighted her during one of his heists.
"See boys… He's going to cooperate… Just as I said…" Queenclasp said in her menacing jovial tone. "We just have a few questions about… The Devourer."
fuck.
"…It's come to my attention… That you seem to know him… Rather well, one would say. And… hmm. Well he did a considerable amount of damage to… a few of my enterprises… And killed one of the Guardians while doing so…" She went on as Morgan hung his head and closed his eyes.
He remembered that brawl, Alex had been all over the news, like usual, and the Guardians thought they could beat him by sneaking up on him in the middle of downtown. He hadn't even been out doing anything villainous at the time, and it led to a brutal battle that Alex had guided towards the wharf to keep his tailor out of the line of fire. Several warehouses had been the collateral instead. "... I remember… I saw it on the news."
"Excellent. Then you know exactly why… we," And she gestured between herself and the vigilantes, "have decided to… align ourselves. The enemy of my enemy…"
"And that's where I come in?" Morgan questioned, resignation in his words.
"Percisely. Now-"
But Morgan cut her off. "Just not in the face."
"Excuse me?"
"When you punch me or kick me or hit me with whatever's handy, just don't hit me in the face. It'll be too rough on my folks when they have to identify the body. So just not in the face." He said. When he only got taken aback stares Morgan added. "Because I'm not gonna tell you anything. And even if I did you're still gonna kill me… So… Not the face, if it's all the same."
The vigilantes exchanged glances but Queenclasp just began to laugh as she took off her long overcoat. "Duly noted…" She murmured as she began to put on her infamous brass knuckles.
It hurt so much more than he thought it would. Like he'd had limbs broken before but it was nothing to taking punch after punch after punch by a woman built like a semi. He coughed and wheezed after this round. It made all of his inside feel like they were on fire. His chest burned. His shoulders and wrists ached from how much he'd struggled. His right hand had gone numb, thank God. After they had broken all of his fingers he almost wished they'd just cut it off to spare him but he must have lost circulation to the digits because he couldn't feel then anymore.
"... Again." Queenclasp repeated. "Where is his new layer being built?"
"...hell…" Morgan wheezed.
"As in on the West Coast?" Someone asked, Morgan couldn't quite tell who anymore.
"...as in… go ta hell." He muttered. His answer was met with a back-handed hard enough to have him seeing stars. He sort of wished they'd just knock him out accidentally at this point. or just kill me already…
"Stop." Queenclasp ordered. "He needs to stay conscious… or we cannot question him… Leave Mr. Carmine be for a moment… He needs to think very carefully about his next answer…" And this time she pulled out a very wicked looking razor, twisting it a little so it could glint in the light. And with one more of her sinister chuckles she and the others backed out of the light, leaving Morgan to his pain and nothingness.
He whimpered a little and let his head roll back to rest on the weird concrete post thing. He kept his eyes closed because of the searing light overhead. I'm so sorry Alex… I didn't mean for this to happen… His thoughts wandered as the pain ebbed and flowed with each breath.
And then he heard an echo-y voice not his own, inside his mind. "Morgan! Morgan is that you!"
"...Alex? Wha…?"
"MORGAN! Just hold still. I'm coming! What the fuck happened? Why are you all the way out here?"
"... Villian-napped… Why are you here?" Morgan tried to ask, even though he was just thinking at Alex it was hard to stay focused.
"Me? I'm looking for you! You're damn bank thingys never take this long and then I couldn't remember which one you went to so I had to check all of them. I found the cops at one and they had your gear but not you. I figured things went bad and when you got to a safe spot you'd call. But you didn't and your phone still wasn't on. So I went looking for you…"
"Aww… you're worried… Heh, cute."
"Morgan, goddammit stay focused! What happened? What do you mean 'villian-napped'?"
"Some vigilantes and Queenclasp kidnapped me… but I'm not a kid so villian-napped."
"What did you do to piss her off?"
"It's not what I did…"
Morgan could sense the dread over the psychic link Alex had set up, but before he could think anything else someone was back in the light.
"What're you smiling for, punk!" Snarled a voice.
Later Morgan would realize it must have been Steelhand. The energized glow around his hand was a dead giveaway. But in the moment all he could think about was the pain. This time being struck… Something inside his chest went very wrong. He had assumed his ribs were breaking or cracking while he was acting as a human punching bag, but this time he felt something inside him move. And then it was just white hot agony. Breathing was next to impossible, not with the pain and the growing pressure inside his chest. Morgan was pretty sure he was screaming, or at least trying to but he couldn't tell. His ears were ringing from the deafening crack of concrete as the pillar he was tied to nearly exploded.
"Steelhand! What the hell are you doing?"
"His fucking 'friend' murdered Capcity Guy! I'm done with Queenclasp and her bullshit. Let's just go after Devourer ourselves!" Snarled the enraged martial artist. But before Tauntfiend could speak another person entered the light.
They teleported in as a matter of fact, placing themselves between Carmine and the other threats in the room.
"So… You've been looking for me, have you?" Snarled the Devourer. " I guess you found me then. " And his hand shot out, grabbing Steelhand by the throat.
The pathetic man gurgled as Alex began crushing his windpipe. Slowly. He wanted this pathetic fool to suffer . This ant dared touch something that belonged to Alex. That was his. "Your friend was hardly a fight for me, but at least he died like a miserable little hero… You however will die like a sniveling coward begging for his life when I'm through with you." And he hurled the vigilante through the nearest wall so he could turn on the rest of the room.
But then he heard something, or a lack of something. It was a sound, up until now, he had grown very familiar with. It's simple rhythm would help him fall back to sleep so long as he could pick it out in the room over. And now it was gone.
And that silence made him feel… fear. True bone deep fear. He didn't even know he could feel this way. Up until now he didn't think he'd ever really had.
He couldn't hear Morgan breathing.