The little piece of safety that Mark and Jack had created for themselves is destroyed half an hour later. The moment the lock on the door clicks, Jack is bolting upright and sitting himself down on the other bed they provided, attempting to flatten his messy hair all the while. Mark sits up as well, his heart sinking.
The barrier behind Jack's eyes, the one that he's spent years building up and only takes down for certain people, makes his gaze grow cold and indifferent. Mark wants to shake him and kiss him and make that expression melt away.
The cronies enter the room and drag the hero and villain down the hallway to UR #1, or as Jack likes to call it, Torture Room #1. The closer the room gets the harder Mark's heart pounds, filling his entire head with the sound of his pulse. He can see the subtle changes in Jack's body as well; the stiffening of his muscles, the ragged breathing, the way he keeps trying to glance back and meet Mark's eyes. Panic is settling in and Mark can't do ANYTHING.
The door of UR #1 opens and the hero and villain are seated in separate chairs. Their hands are promptly chained behind their backs as Mr. Vincent walks in, smiling greasily at them.
"So good to finally have you in," he says, his gaze nothing but sinister. "Seán."
"Damien," the Irishman nearly spits.
"And let me guess... this is Mark," Mr. Vincent replies. "Did Seán ever tell you that Jack isn't his name?"
"Yup. He also told me that because certain people have used it, he now goes exclusively by Jack," Mark replies with a glare. "That includes you."
Mr. Vincent chuckles, the sound void of anything but annoyance. "Already sassing me, are we, hero? That's a reckless thing to do. I can see why Seán likes you."
Mark quirks his eyebrow for a moment, but says nothing. Vincent sighs and folds his hands behind his back, facing the two supers.
"I am not here to chat. I need answers that you will give me before we're through today. Got it?"
"Good luck with that," Jack replies. He glances over at Mark with a small smirk and the hero feels the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. He loves when Jack gets sassy.
Vincent scowls. "Enough! What are the heroes planning?"
"I'm so convinced, Vincent. Let me just tell you our entire plan spread out before you because people are NEVER caught monologuing EVER," Mark says, earning a snort from Jack.
The punch comes in a split second, sending Mark reeling back in his chair. The sound of ringing in his ears is accompanied by Jack's yell, and Mark nearly laughs from pure shock. He moves to wipe his nose, but when he feels the restraints around his wrists, sighs and lets the blood trickle down to his lip. Jack glares daggers at Mr. Vincent, tugging relentlessly at the chains holding him back.
"Let's try that again. What are your plans and who are you working with?" the advisor demands.
"Once again, you're making it really easy for us to not tell you," Jack replies.
"Fine. If you don't want to spare yourselves, I'll make it so you're begging to let me know all of your plans."
He takes a handful of Jack's hair in his hand and yanks his head back, earning a strangled yell from Mark. The villain's chest rises and falls faster with every second, his eyes trained on the ceiling. The advisor's eyebrows raise at the sound of Mark's distress and a devious smile crosses his face.
"Wait a second... Are you two... involved with one another?"
"No," Jack lies, his voice strained.
"You're a terrible liar."
"We are not a thing," Mark insists, adding to Jack's lie.
"So you wouldn't do anything if I did... this?" Mr. Vincent asks before landing a solid punch to the villain's gut. Jack gasps and tries to lurch forward, but the hand in his hair holds him back and he only cries out again. Mark yanks against his chains and Jack meets his eyes, the message clear. Don't tell him anything. The hero remains rigid in his chair, watching the advisor with as much venom as he can muster. Mr. Vincent looks back, his devilish smile only growing. "You wouldn't care if I did this?"
The moment he runs his free hand down Jack's chest, Mark throws out his leg and lands as hard of a blow as he can manage to the advisor's shin. Damien falls back but recovers quickly, anger only showing on his face for a moment before the sickening smile returns.
"That makes you angry, hero? Me touching your little pet?" he mocks.
"If you lay a hand on him again, I will kill you," Mark spits. "You can hurt me. You can beat me until I bleed. But you can't touch him."
"No!" Jack insists, pleading with Mark with his eyes.
"Isn't this interesting? Which one will be the martyr...?" Vincent asks, stroking his chin.
"Me. Don't touch him," Mark insists.
"Mark—" Jack begins.
"No. I'll take the hits."
"This is truly touching, but I need information and I don't have all day." Mr. Vincent steps over to Mark and tilts his chin upwards. "If you two refuse to answer me, Mark here will be in a lot of pain."
"Go for it," Mark replies. "I can handle pain."
Mr. Vincent straightens up and moves behind Mark's chair, taking his chain and locking it to a metal loop on the ceiling. The hero shudders when he looks at it. It's the same thing Jack was tied to all those ages ago. He tugs, but the chains remain firm around his wrists.
"I'll give you one more chance," Mr. Vincent says. "Who do you work with? What are you planning? How long has Jack been working with you?"
Mark says nothing and earns a punch in the gut. His knees fold under his weight and the chains tug at his wrists, but he composes himself a moment later. Jack watches, tugging endlessly at his restraints as tears start pouring down his face in waves.
"Answer me, damn it!" Vincent exclaims, his hands balled into tight fists.
Mark shakes his head and earns another punch. And another. And another. Jack sobs, but doesn't say anything. Eventually, when neither of them have broken, Mr. Vincent drops his fists to his side and storms off to a door in the corner shrouded in shadow. He slips inside, and moments later he returns with a knife.
Jack's face goes more pale than usual and he turns to Mark. "No. You can't. Mark, please..."
The hero looks at him with pain-filled brown eyes and shakes his head. "It's fine, Jack. I can handle it."
Mr. Vincent steps in front of Mark and clenches his jaw. "How long has Jack worked for you?"
Mark doesn't answer and gets a slash across his right arm, which is pulled over his head. He screams and Jack sobs, but neither of them say a word.
"Who else do you work with?"
There's no answer and he earns yet another slash, this time across his left arm. Tears pour down Mark's face but he keeps his mouth shut tight. Jack fights the chains like a fly caught in a spider's web.
"What are you planning to do? Take down the institute? Destroy the villains?"
"Please don't hurt him," Jack begs, sobbing uncontrollably now. "Please stop..."
"Will you tell me your plans?" Mr. Vincent demands.
Both villain and hero say nothing and the advisor grits his teeth, slashing Mark's chest and causing both of them to sob. Jack begs and pleads with him to stop, but he doesn't. Mark lets himself hang by the wrists, too exhausted and bloodied to keep fighting. Mr. Vincent observes the hero for a couple seconds before turning on Jack, and that's when Mark finally finds his voice again.
"You said you w-wouldn't touch him," he croaks.
"I need information," Mr. Vincent replies, twirling his blood-coated knife.
"Please don't h-hurt him. P-Please, for the love of God don't h-hurt him."
Mr. Vincent ignores Mark and approaches Jack, yanking his head back by his hair again and studying his face. Jack watches him, tears still pouring down his cheeks.
"So you're the little bargaining chip, huh?" he wonders aloud, tracing Jack's collarbone with the tip of his knife lightly. He presses a little harder and the villain hisses, squeezing his eyes shut.
"S-Stop, p-please..." Mark begs, his knees going weak as he starts to sob. "Please, please, leave him alone..."
"This continues tomorrow. You get a night in your cell to lick your wounds and then you're back here, and next time I won't leave him alone," Mr. Vincent snarls. He lets Jack's head drop and knocks once on the door, summoning in the henchmen. They unchain both supers and Mark immediately slumps to the floor, choking on his own sobs. Jack tries to run to him, to fall beside him and kiss him until the wounds heal, but he's dragged away by one of two cronies. The other hoists Mark to his feet and pulls him, stumbling and bleeding, down the hallway.
The cronies toss the two supers inside and Mark falls to the floor, shivering and sobbing and curling in on himself. Jack stumbles in as well, and the moment the door closes he's crawling to the hero's side and pulling him into his arms. Mark presses his face into Jack's chest, bruises forming on his skin, and sobs harder than he has in his entire life. Jack holds him as close as humanly possible, the vibrations of the hero's cries making him start to sob as well.
"I'm so sorry, Mark. You shouldn't have taken the hits. I'm so sorry," Jack apologizes through his tears. He trails his fingers through his hair and leans down, pressing his lips to Mark's head and holding them there.
Mark can't even respond, choking on every inhale and forcing out every exhale. His chest rises and falls so quickly against Jack's and his heart pounds so hard that his entire body starts to shake, and it makes the villain's eyebrows furrow. He keeps his nose pressed to Jack's chest until his heart rate starts to slow, and when he's finally calmed down enough he coughs.
"I r-respect you so much more now," Mark whispers, his voice raspy and choked with emotion. "How in the world have you been dealing with that your whole life?"
"The other villains are the only reason I didn't end myself," Jack replies, sniffling and pressing his cheek to Mark's hair. "That was worse than actually being beaten, Mark. God, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay. I couldn't bear to see you get hurt anymore."
"Thank you." Jack kisses his cheek. "We're gonna get out of here soon and I'm gonna take good care of you."
Mark kisses his lips softly, replacing Mr. Vincent's harsh yanks of his hair with gentle touches and caresses. "Sounds good."