Seek {Superhero AU} - Ending 1

22: Let It Out

NPOV

Track: Talk To Me, Cavetown

My house is quiet when my mother is at work. My house is quiet when she's home, too. We're not loud people. The only sound that is consistently noisy in my house is the sound of my mother's Italian music playing on the radio. She likes the old stuff, and I've grown to appreciate the artistry of 1930s Italian music, too—but when she's gone, my music taste takes the reins, and I listen to Panic! At The Disco while I cook myself some microwave mac & cheese. My mom hates Kraft, but I think there's something appealing about the orange chemicals that will probably give me cancer one day.

Listening to music while I wait for my food in the microwave is exactly what I'm doing when somebody knocks on my door.

Now, people don't really knock on my door very often. Occasionally, one of our packages gets sent accidentally to the neighbors' house instead of ours, and very rarely, my mother's coworkers show up with something for my mom. That's about it.

The microwave beeps as I contemplate whether I can pretend that there's no one home. If it's a neighbor trying to give us a package that was wrongly delivered to them, then they can leave it on the porch, and then I don't need to interact with them. If it's someone from my mother's work, they're not here to see me anyway, so why should I answer?

I pour in the packet of powdered cheese and stir my dinner until it's a delicious orange feast, ready to eat.

I grab a fork and sit down, about to take my first bite, when the person on my porch knocks again. I frown. Can't they go away? I really don't enjoy talking to strangers.

I take a bite of my mac & cheese. I hope my mom never finds out what she's missing out on by not eating Kraft cheese; it means I always get all the mac & cheese cups to myself.

The person is knocking again, and this time it's incessant. I sigh and stand up. Hopefully this isn't, like, a police officer or something. I haven't really done anything today that would get me in trouble with the police, but over the course of my time as Ghost King, it is possible that somewhere along the line, I left a clue that gave away my identity. Maybe they've just now found it.

If it's a police officer, I'd like to know before I consider opening the door. I peek through the window.

Will Solace is standing on my doorstep looking like he's about to faint.

I rush to open the door, and he practically falls inside. "Sorry—I know you weren't expecting me to come over but I didn't know where else to go—holy shit, I don't even know where to start, Nico—"

His whole body is trembling and his face is pale. He looks like he might have run all the way here; his clothes are sweaty and he's still breathing hard despite catching his breath on my porch for a few minutes.

I've never seen Will Solace like this before. This is more than just frazzled or freaked out—he's terrified. Usually, his mask hides the majority of his fear.

"Okay, hold on, take a second to breathe. Something happened? You know what—don't start talking yet. Come on." I lay a hand on his back to lead him to my kitchen, and then I pull out a chair for him. He collapses into it and then leans over the table, head in his hands. His chest is still moving up and down erratically.

I pour him a glass of lemonade and set it down in front of him. Then I grab a coke from the fridge for myself. He's hiding his face from me, but I think he might be crying—his shoulders are shaking a little.

"Hey," I whisper to him. "It's alright now. You know you're safe here. You know I'm here for you."

I'm thinking about his time in Texas—is this...related? Did somebody hurt him again? If so, I'll make the person regret it; Will shouldn't have to put up with anyone's shit like this.