I swear I didn't purposely name Will after me, I just couldn't do any other name or it'd either sound weird or be copyright on this other solangelo superhero fic.
Anyway, this is a pretty long chapter. Have fun.
A/N from 2023: Oh, joy. That means I get to edit a chapter that's even longer than usual. I do not appreciate you, Sunny from 2017.
NPOV
Track: Sunlight, Hozier
I take Will as far as I can, heading toward the center of the city. I have no idea where he lives, but I figure he should be able to get home if I drop him off near a metro. Will starts begging for his life if I fly too high, so I have no chance of using the clouds for cover—instead, I'm forced to just go as fast as I can and dodge police cars as they come.
A reporter's car chases me for a block or two—I can hear the reporter shouting about how I've kidnapped Sunburst, who is still currently begging for his life, and I'm really starting to think about just dropping him. However, luckily for Will, I owe him a favor after he healed those burns. (He did also give me those burns, but it was unintentional, so I'll let it slide.)
"Where are you taking me?" Will screams, and I roll my eyes. I think he might puke all over me if I keep flying so fast, but if I slow down, the cops will catch me. Guess that means I'll have to land and hide somewhere—good, that means I can drop off Sunburst in an alley and leave this whole mess behind me.
I take a sharp turn, heading higher and higher so that I can land on a parking garage. It'll at least give me some time to set Will down and deal with whatever stupid tricks he's going to try before I fly away again.
Will, at the moment, is absolutely losing his mind as we get farther and farther from the ground. I hold onto him tightly by wrapping my arms under his ribcage. His hands and legs clutch me like he's about to die—which is probably appropriate.
"I'm sorry I called you 'Kitten!'" he cries. "Please don't drop me!"
"You're so annoying," I grunt as his fingernails dig into my back from terror. "I won't drop you; I'm not a murderer."
This does not calm him down at all. In fact, even once I finally land on the top of the parking garage, he does not let go of me. His eyes are tightly shut, and I can feel his chest rising and falling rapidly against my own.
"We've landed," I tell him. Slowly, he peeks his eyes open.
His entire body relaxes when his eyes confirm for him that we are, in fact, no longer in the air. He melts off of me and takes a deep, gasping breath for air.
"Is there something you wanted from me so badly that you made me fly you across the city, or are we done here?" I ask as he tries to convince himself that he is not dead.
He straightens, and there's a sheen of sweat covering the bits of skin visible to me. "Uh, right," he says. "Right, right, right. I want information."
"What else is new?" I ask.
The police sirens are loud—they're searching the area; I think I can hear shouting. The officers must be leaving their cars now to go search all the nearby buildings. They'll be here soon.
Will seems to realize that too—he grabs my hand and yanks me to the side. I stumble but follow him between two large trucks. He pushes me against one and then puts one hand on either side of my head, blocking me from trying to fly away. I give him a bored look.
"My family is expecting me," I tell him. My mother really will be—she probably has dinner ready. My stomach rumbles. "I don't have time for this."
"It'll take five minutes."
"I could be home in that much time by air. What's your point?"
He flashes a smile. "Teach me to fly, and we can talk on the way."
I snort, turning my head to the side. His arm is uncomfortably close to me. "And then you get to know where my house is? Yeah, great, wonderful plan, Will. I'm leaving now—goodbye."
I think happy thoughts and push off the ground. He pulls his arms back quickly—I knew he wouldn't actually try to trap me here, not when he now knows that I can pick him up and drop him off the garage.
Hopefully my mother isn't worried.
WPOV
God, he thinks he's so cool just because he can fly. (It is kind of cool.)
I mean, what is up with that guy? Why does he have to make everything difficult? Even with just sharing first names—the police will never be able to find him from his first name alone, not in a city this large. There have to be thousands of people named Nico here. Why did it have to be a big deal?
I think he hates me. I think I might hate him, too. I try to be nice to him and he acts like I'm the worst thing to ever happen to him—has his life really been so easy that me trying to be kind is enough to get worked up over? I don't like that he won't just let me talk to him like a regular person. Plus, I don't like that he's above the law—I mean, the entitlement! He must think he's better than me.
It takes me an embarrassing amount of time to realize that as my thoughts tumble down a tirade of self-righteous fury, I have started to float an inch or two above the ground.
As soon as I see myself hovering, I get excited—I figured it out!
And then I promptly fall back to the ground.
Right, okay, so what had I been doing differently just before I started to levitate? I hadn't been doing anything special with my hands, they were just hanging down, and there must not be any special movement to make anyway, or I would've noticed Nico making it.
Which only leaves my thoughts. I had been thinking about Nico...
I had been thinking negatively of Nico. Is it something about negativity then? What kind of upside-down world is it where negativity makes a person float?
I try it again—this time, I'm thinking about how if I don't catch him, I'll never be able to get the bounty for him. I kind of need that money—my dad isn't really in the picture, and my mom is just a custodian at a failing gem company. She had always wanted to be a singer, but she never made it—so she's stuck mopping floors instead.
Thinking about failing and my mother's broken dreams, I start to float again.
I laugh and fall again, but that's okay because I figured it out! Peter Pan got it wrong, then—you have to think unhappy thoughts. I wonder if that's how this is so easy for Nico. It's probably in his nature. I wonder how he ever stays on the ground?
I focus this time because it occurs to me that as a superhero who is supposed to keep track of where my supervillain is, I should probably follow Nico to make sure he's actually going home rather than breaking into a third house tonight. I force my mind to stick to the most depressing things I can think of—I think of that sad commercial with the puppies in the shelter that plays like a thousand times during the Superbowl. When I've got it on a loop in my head, I start to levitate.
I don't let myself get too excited—instead, I keep that puppy commercial playing on repeat in my head, and then I'm flying.
At first it's hard to stay in the air because the city is so beautiful from up high—the whole place sparkles and shines, like the whole city is covered in Christmas lights, except it's September. As I appreciate the city and briefly falter from my sad puppies commercial, I drop about five meters, and the fear from that is enough to make me hover mid-air again. From there, I try to use my fear of falling as fuel, and I stay in the air without falling for the rest of the flight.
I follow behind Nico from a considerable distance—I stick out too much to be able to get close at all. He goes higher until he's in the clouds, so I propel myself higher, too.
The clouds are wonderful—I start to slip a bit, so I focus on how awful it would be to fall, and then I'm soaring.
He's ahead of me in the clouds—I can see him flying above them. I try to stick to the top edges of the clouds just in case he looks behind him; I could dip low and be hidden.
We only fly for a few minutes before he takes a dive, plummeting to the ground at rocket speeds. I cover my own cry with my hand, horrified and worried that he's going to hit the ground and die—but he doesn't. He slows when he gets close to the house, and he lands gracefully on his feet.
Now I just have to figure out whether or not this is actually his house. I'm starting to dive too when—
There are people running at Nico. Where did they come from? Some of them must have been hiding behind the neighbors' fences, and from up here it's too difficult to see people. I squint—are these his friends, maybe? Or maybe this is gang activity or something like that? What exactly is Nico involved in?
I dip low and very ungracefully plummet in a neighbor's bushes—bad aim. I pick a thorn out of my arm and tiptoe over to the fence separating Nico's house—if it is his house—from his neighbors'. I peek between a crack in the fence posts, and I listen.
Nico is being held in place by a tall guy who I think I might recognize from my school. Nico is trying to escape the guy's grip, but his resistance is fruitless. The larger guy yanks Nico closer to himself, away from Nico's front door.
"Let me go," Nico croaks, and his voice is seeping with fear. Have I ever heard him sound like that before? He had been kind of afraid of me today when I was trying to heal him, but nothing like this—I think he might actually be terrified of these guys.
Does that make these guys heroes? Are they superheroes trying to stop Nico—?
"Why should we? You're a monster, Ghost King."
I recognize that voice—that's Luke Castellan. He's in my math class. What on earth is he doing tormenting a supervillain in his free time? He's not wearing a suit or anything...
"And once Sunburst or I decide to kill you," Luke continues, "everyone in the city will know that we're true heroes." He's holding onto Nico too tightly, and then he shoves Nico at the ground, and Nico just barely manages to get his balance again so he doesn't fall.
I shuddered at my name. I don't really like that this guy is using me against Nico—that doesn't seem fair. And besides, kill him? I know home invasion is a pretty bad habit to have, but he's never hurt anyone or stolen anything—how can I kill him just for trespassing? Why would Luke want to?
"He wouldn't kill me..." Nico said, though he seemed unsure.
"Then I guess I'll be the true hero. Come get him, boys!" Luke's tone is twisted and cruel. When Nico tries to run, Luke catches him by his arm and twists. Nico cries out in pain.
One of the other boys punches Nico behind the ear, and Nico falls to his knees. The boys converge as a mass on Nico, and my stomach fills with cement. This is not okay. This could not ever be okay.
Objectively, I should walk away. Nico is a criminal, and he is my enemy.
But he doesn't deserve this.
"Hey!" I shout. "Stop that!" And this time it's not just for dramatic effect—I really mean it. I'm not sure yet what I'll do if they don't stop, but I know that if they don't leave voluntarily, I'll force them to.
Luke whips around, the smile sliding off his face. His minions land a few more kicks on Nico before laughing and turning to face me, too—I'm furious. I don't think I've ever been this furious before. I have to take a deep breath just to stay on the ground.
"What do you want, Sunburst?" comes Luke's low voice. I jump the fence and land on the other side, and then I'm confidently approaching Luke even though my nerves are threatening to tear me apart. Now that I'm closer, I can make out the other faces—they're friends of Luke's, plus two of his half-brothers, Connor and Travis.
"I want you to leave," I say, and my voice is unnaturally low.
"Why should I—? Oh, I get it. You wanted to be the one to kill him. Come here, then." He and all his minions stepped back to leave room for me. My stomach twists. This is sick. Is this really what Luke is like? Has he done this before? Why would Nico never say anything—and is what he's looking for really worth this?
I play along, and Nico shudders. He tries to stand, but he's trembling just from the effort it takes to push himself to his knees—and then Luke kicks him, the hit landing on Nico's chin, and Nico is on the ground again, groaning.
I step right in front of Nico, heart beating in my throat. I kneel next to him, and Luke steps off the porch to give me room. His friends are snickering and jostling each other—this is just another Sunday night to them. They've done this before, I don't know how it was a question before.
Nico groans when I lean down to whisper in his ear.
"Shield your eyes," I murmur, barely audible. Nico's Adam's apple bobs up and down, and he looks incredibly confused now. Still, he slowly nods and puts his hands in front of his eyes.
Then I turn around—
And I recreate the sun.
It's fire, it's a flare, it's blinding. It explodes out of me in all directions, blinding but not burning—Nico is behind me, after all. The whole neighborhood is cast in a golden hue, and Luke and his friends cry out and fall back, away from the porch. Away from me.
At this point, I solidify the light storm into a single, translucent force field forming a protective barrier between Nico and Luke's miniature army. This one doesn't blind—I want to be able to see through it to the other side. I want to keep an eye on them.
But this one does burn. And when Luke finishes mourning his retinas, he approaches the barrier, lifts and finger, and touches it.
He jumps back, shaking his hand—he'd been burned. Why are people always stupid enough to test my dangerous light creations? I need to put a warning sign on my suit: Caution: don't touch the light—yes, it can burn you.
"Why are you saving him?" Luke shouts at me, frustrated. "The city would be better off if he was dead. He's evil! And you're enemies, for God's sake."
I keep my hands steady, not allowing my wall to falter for even a second. "If we killed him, what would that make us?"
"Heroes!"
"That's where you're wrong." I pushed the wall back, forcing the boys off Nico's yard and into the street. I heard rustling inside the house—all my light must've woken someone up. I mean, probably the entire neighborhood is awake now, but luckily, my light should be blocking their view of Nico. They won't know this is his house—just that I was here.
Behind me, a door opens, and a woman gasps—a family member, probably.
"Sunburst, take your wall down. The Ghost King doesn't deserve to be protected like this!" Luke calls from the other side of the barrier.
"You're Sunburst?" asks the woman's voice from behind me. I don't have time to explain everything; I have to get rid of all the people trying to hurt Nico. One step at a time.
"I can help you defeat the Ghost King!" Luke offers—I think he's getting desperate now. "I know him in our other life."
I'm so shocked that for a moment, my wall wavers—Luke is poised on the other side, waiting for it to weaken enough to jump through. I shake my head so I can focus better and strengthen my wall again. "You know him in your other life?"
"I can help you," Luke promises. "I'm no villain—we're on the same team. Let me through, and the two of us will defeat the Ghost King once and for all."
"I don't need help from a high school bully," I deadpan, "and I will never be on the same team as you. Now, I can stand out here all night to keep you out—but if the police get called on you for causing a disturbance, I will not hesitate to tell them that I witnessed you attempt to murder someone. Are we clear?"
Luke lifts his chin, and there's a new hatred for me burning in his eyes—not even Nico looks at me like that, like I'm the scum of the earth. "This won't be the last time we meet."
He and his friends retreat. I wait until they're out of sight before risking letting my wall fall. I use my body to block the neighbors' view of Nico, just in case any of them can see through the darkness enough to tell that Nico is wearing the Ghost King's suit.
I pick him up like a bride—I suspect they've hurt his leg, so he shouldn't be walking until we know he's alright. A woman a little older than my mom is standing in the doorway, fear evident on her face. "Is he your son?"
She nods, looking sick. "He never told me they..." The rest of the sentence dies in her throat, and I can't blame her. Not after what we just witnessed.
"I'm really sorry, ma'am. Can I bring him inside?"
"Follow me." She leads the way into the house and up to a bedroom. She gestures to the bed, and I set him on it. He had closed his eyes somewhere on the way here, and his expression is pinched with pain.
His mother stands at the foot of the bed, looking lost. "Thank you for protecting him, Sunburst."
"It's what I do, ma'am. I'm going to try to heal him, alright?" I give her the warning so that she's prepared when a gentle glow comes to the surface of my skin—and then drifts over to Nico's body and settles in his wounds and sinks below his skin.
His mother watches with wide eyes and my magic heals her son. Her mouth hangs slightly open—stupefied.
My light has to slip under his suit to heal some of the hidden wounds. I was right about his leg—I think they had fractured the bone, but my light pieces it back together again. I piece everything back together again.
By the time I stand up, Nico seems to be asleep. The stress of nearly getting murdered followed by the soothing calm of my healing powers did that, I guess. I take his pulse just to make sure nothing else is seriously wrong, but he's fine.
"He's healed. There won't even be a scar to remind him that this happened," I say as I step back. For a brief moment, my fingers hover at the bottom of his mask—I could take it off. I could find out who he is. If Luke knows him, I might too—Luke and I go to the same school, so it's actually more likely than not that I do know him.
I could take off the mask. I could reveal his identity to the police—wasn't that my goal? He would finally face justice.
What did I actually want?
And what was Nico trying to find...
I let my hand drop from the mask, and I hear his mother let out a breath. She must have been holding it the entire time I considered unmasking him—grateful enough that I had saved his life that she wasn't going to stop me, but hoping desperately that I would choose the right thing anyway.
His mother shudders—I think it's with relief, but there might be something else mixed in. For the first time, a tear slips down her cheek, and she quickly wipes it away. "Thank you, Sunburst—you have no idea how much it means to me that you protected him. I know—well, I know you must not exactly be friends. But—you saved him. And if you ever need anything at all, I will be right here—I owe you everything."
I don't know how to take gratitude like this—usually, I'm not facing the people I save like this. Usually Nico chooses victims who are away, so I never hear the gratitude until days later when the victim is talking about me on the news.
"You don't owe me anything," I assure her. "I should go now. Good luck with him."
"Goodbye, Sunburst," his mother says, and it feels like 'Thank you.'
I turn to leave when I see a map of the city and the surrounding area on the wall. I tilt my head, and then I realize—that's his plan. These are the people he's planning to attack, and little scribbles on the map probably list dates.
"Can I take a picture of this?" I ask.
His mom hesitated. "I...I guess you deserve it. Go ahead."
"Thanks." I got out my phone and quickly took a picture—taking a moment to make sure the penciled-in dates are legible. Behind me, Nico stirs but doesn't wake.
I glance over my shoulder, and Nico's mother is kneeling next to his bed, holding his hand. I look away again, not wanting to intrude on a personal moment. "Goodbye."
I go home.
Word count: 3687
A/N: Yeah, not a fan of 2017 Sunny. This was so much to edit