Thrown out like a trash.

After weeks or months of torture, Supervillain was thrown out like a trash, because his torturers just got bored with beating and whipping this strange, quiet man. Wounded, exhausted and with hands cuffed behind him, he was totally helpless, dying slowly in the freezing cold, without any hope, being reconciled with death. A civilian, who found him, was terrified of having the worst villain at home, but he felt pity, despite this man’s constant defiance, looking at tears that tun down his bruised cheeks at night. He is too proud to ask for help or mercy, but when the villain unwoluntary nozzled in the civilian’s arm, drinking water like a thirsty animal, his new caretaker’s heart was breaking. “Why?” he asked quietly “Why any hero could do you it?” The exhausted man glared at him “Are you a kid? This is just politics. Their party must win an elections. Last year…” The civilian interrupted him. “So you are not a serial killer and a terrorist?” he asked in disbelief, but he had known the answer well yet. 

response under the cut!

I love the “villain is found injured in an alley” trope so much–

When Civilian clocked out for the evening, they were greeted by a downpour. They had nothing against rain, but on a mid-September night, with a six block walk to their apartment, all they could do was open an umbrella and resolve themselves to a bout of misery.

They almost walked right past the corpse in the alleyway.

At least they thought it was a corpse, until they saw it shudder.

Civilian jumped when the figure moved, nearly dropping their umbrella.

“Um, hey,” they started. “You okay?” Obviously a stupid question; even in the dim lighting they could tell the person on the ground had been beat to hell and back.

When they received no response, Civilian took a hesitant step closer. 

Okay. Just call an ambulance or something. 

They saw the handcuffs just as they were pulling out their phone. Curiosity overtaking reason, they turned on the flashlight, to get a better look at their face–

“Villain?” Civilian whispered.

Villain’s eyes half-opened, barely taking them in before closing once more. Though battered and bruised, it was unmistakeably them.

“I… oh my gosh. I-I have to call the heroes–”

“Y’ just mis–ngh-missed them,” came Villain’s reply.

Civilian lowered their phone halfway through dialing the emergency number. “I just… what?”

“Th-they stopped by here not too long ago to--ah– take out the trash.” A noise sounding like something caught between sobbing and bitter laughter punctuated the statement.

For a moment, all Civilian could do was stand frozen in place.

Don’t just stare at them, do something!

But what? Even restrained and looking like death warmed over, Villain was still Villain. They were a criminal, and powerful, and ruthless, and–

Villain shuddered again, attempting to curl in on themselves and letting out a weak cry of pain.

And very, very hurt.

Deciding to put reason on hold, Civilian knelt by Villain, shining their flashlight on them. They shut it off a few seconds later, fighting nausea.

Villain was stripped to the waist, bruises littering their body and their back torn to shreds. The rain mixed with their blood, turning the surrounding pavement a watery scarlet.

“The… the heroes did this?” Civilian said in disbelief.

“Their way of m-making the city a better place.”

So they couldn’t look for help there. Couldn’t call the cops, because they’d just call for the heroes. Even an ambulance would probably call the heroes before taking Villain to a hospital.

Maybe you should do it anyway. Maybe Villain’s lying, and this is an elaborate ploy to… to…

To what? To let themselves get beaten half to death so they could spook a random kid?

Civilian tucked their umbrella into the crook of their arm and grabbed Villain by the shoulders, pulling them into a sitting position as gently as they could.

Not gently enough, as Villain let out a whimper that was bordering pathetic as they were moved.

“What are you–?”

“Try to stand, I’ll help you,” Civilian said, hooking an arm under theirs and pulling up. Villain was panting heavily by the time they were on their feet.

“J-just leave me here,” they said between ragged breaths. “I was halfway dead, now m’ gonna have to start over–” their voice wavered as they swayed, nearly falling back onto the pavement. Civilian wrapped their arm around their back to steady them, and was met with a cry of pain.

“Sorry,” they whispered. “I, uh, live a block and a half from here. Think you can hang in there for the walk?” They could feel Villain’s body trembling against theirs.

“Y-your’re so–nnh--so eager to turn to a life of crime you wanna harbor criminals, is that it?”

Civilian took a cautious step forward and waited for Villain to do the same, their body leaning heavily on Civilian’s smaller frame.

“I don’t have a lot of other options,” Civilian retorted. “Especially ‘cause I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself for leaving anyone to die.”

They took another painstaking step forward.

“Mnn– I’d call you heroic if I hadn’t lost all respect for the term.”

Civilian didn’t reply. 

This was shaping up to be a long night.