Chapter Text
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He’s been kept here ever since he refused to sign that NDA, Vought couldn't risk him starting an uprising against them. Doesn't help that he overheard a man who's known for killing superheros was following him. The room was small. It was always dark, the only light coming from a flickering fluorescent lightbulb that buzzed and crackled in the corner. There was a single cot, a thin blanket, and a toilet that never seemed to stop smelling of piss.
Hughie had lost count of the days. They all blurred together in an endless stretch of nothingness. No windows, no clock, just the occasional meal slid through a slot in the door. He'd tried to mark the days on the wall, but the paint was too thick, too hard. His nails had broken and bled trying to scratch a mark. He'd scream and shout until his voice was hoarse. No one came. He'd cried until he had no tears left. He'd curled up in a ball on the cot, willing himself to disappear.
And then the visits started.
The first time A-Train showed up, Hughie was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. The door clicked open, and in strode the man who'd taken everything from him. The man who'd crushed his girlfriend to death without a second thought. The man who'd left him to clean up the mess. A-Train didn't say anything at first. He just stood there, looking down at Hughie with those cold, emotionless eyes. The silence was heavy, thick
enough to cut with a knife. Hughie sat up, slowly, his back protesting. He hadn't moved in what felt like hours.
"What do you want?" he croaked.
The fast hero didn't answer. He just looked around the room, his gaze lingering on the empty space where the TV should've been. "I don't get why they took that," he said, his voice echoing off the bare walls. "It's not like you can do anything with it."
Hughie's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?" A-Train sighed, as if the question was tiresome. "Just checking in," he said, his tone mocking. "Making sure you're keeping well."
The rage inside Hughie grew. He wanted to lunge at A-Train, to tear him apart with his bare hands. But he knew it was useless. The door was locked, and even if it weren't, he was no match for a man who could run through buildings without breaking a sweat.
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The visits became a pattern. Every few days, A-Train would show up, bring a bottle of water or a pack of crackers, and sit on the floor across from the cot. He'd talk about his day, his workouts, his latest endorsement deals. Hughie would listen, his jaw clenched, his fists balled up under the thin blanket. Each time he saw A-Train, Hughie felt a stab of pain in his chest. He could still see her lifeless eyes staring up at him, her body a twisted mess of flesh and bone.
The door slammed open, A-Train brought a newspaper with him. He tossed it onto the cot, the pages fluttering open to reveal a headline about a new Vought conspiracy theory show. "Look at this," he said, with a pissed off face. "They're making up rumors about me being kicked out the seven, fucking bullshit" Hughie picked up the paper, his eyes scanning the article. It talked about A-Train's heroics, his speed, his charm. But it also talked about his recent 'slip-ups'. The night Robin was killed wasn't mentioned, but there were whispers of his addiction and lack of control.
"Looks like you're not the golden boy anymore," Hughie said, unable to keep the joy out of his voice. A-Train's face faltered. "It's all lies," he snapped. "They're just trying to bring me down."
"Why?" Hughie asked, with a sarcastic voice. "What could they possibly have against you?"
"You wouldn't understand," A-Train said, getting to his feet. Hughie laughed, this pissed him off. He grabbed Hughie by his shoulders and threw him to the ground. “On. Your. Knees” A-Train said with a growl. Hughie suddenly regretted laughing at him. Hughie was so used to seeing A-train he’d started not to take him seriously. He looked down and saw that he was starting to pull down his pants. “Shit…i'm sorry I didn't mean to-” He was interrupted when he was forced onto his knees. “Open.” It was now that Hughie realized that the man's dick was out and in his face. Hughie made sure his lips were closed tight.
Suddenly his nose was pinched close and he struggled to breath. His girlfriend's murderer stood above him with no expression, not caring that Hughie couldn't breath. Finally he opened his mouth, he could take one breath before a dick was shoved in his mouth. He felt like throwing up, tears were flowing from his eyes. A train had noticed that Hughie was panicking and not breathing. He sighed and slightly tapped hughies cheeks. “breath from your nose, your fine” this made hughie cry harder, he wasn't fine His girlfriend was dead and her murderer was in his fucking mouth. A train begin to fuck his face using his hair as handles. All Hughie could do was gag and cry, the back of his throat was definitely gonna be bruised with the way he kept slamming against the back of it.
After what felt like an hour, he could hear the supe groan and finish inside his mouth. Hughie gagged at the taste, the dick was finally removed from his mouth. Hughie wasted no time rushing to the corner of the room and spitting into the toilet. He felt like throwing up, his tears and sobs was the only noise in the silent room. He suddenly felt someone lean behind him. “W-wait no please-” Hughies voice was raw, he was interrupted by A train using a cloth to clean his face. After his face was cleaned he heard the door shut. Hughie finally threw up.
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Days turned into weeks, and the visits grew more frequent. The smugness in A-Train's voice began to waver, replaced by a hint of desperation. His stories of glamour and power grew more exaggerated, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as Hughie. One visit, Hughie noticed something different. A-Train's eyes were bloodshot, his pupils dilated. He smelled faintly of something chemical, something sweet and sickly.
"You're using again," Hughie said, keeping his voice calm A-Train's eyes snapped to him, the smile on his face fading. "What?", hughie wasn't dumb. He knew A Train and other supes used some enhancing drugs. He could tell more with A Train since everytime he used it, he would use hughie again. "Your eyes," Hughie said, pointing. "They're the same as the night you killed her." The superhero took a step back, his hand going to his pocket. Hughie could see the outline of a small bottle. "It's just supplements," A-Train mumbled, his voice thick. "It's not what you think."
"You're hooked," Hughie said, the words cutting through the air like a knife. "They're gonna drop you like a hot potato if you can't get clean." A-Train took another step back, his hand now tightly clutching the bottle in his pocket. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice unsteady. "I know more than you think," Hughie said, sitting up straighter on the cot. A-Train's face twisted in anger, and for a moment, Hughie thought he'd come over and punch him through the wall, maybe fuck his mouth again. But instead, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut with a finality that echoed through the tiny space.
The room was quiet again, the buzzing of the fluorescent light seemingly louder in the sudden absence of the supe’s voice. Hughie took a deep breath, he turned around and wrapped the thin blanket around him. He imagined he was at home with his dead girlfriend. He decided to think of less depressing things, the calendar in Hughie's mind marked off the days until his birthday. He didn't expect a cake or a party, not in this hellhole. But it was something to look forward to, a reminder that the world outside was still turning, even if it had abandoned him.
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The day of his birthday arrived, and true to his expectations, no one from Vought acknowledged it. But that evening, when the usual click of the door heralded A-Train's visit, Hughie could sense something was off. The supe walked in, his tread heavy, his eyes more haunted than usual. He tossed something onto the bed. It was a small, crumpled paper bag.
"Happy birthday," A-Train mumbled, not meeting Hughie's gaze.
Hughie stared at the bag, his heart racing. It was a simple gesture, but it was more than anyone else had given him in this place. He slowly reached out and picked it up, feeling the weight of the contents. Inside, there was a candy bar and a pack of gum. The candy bar was slightly melted, a testament to A-Train holding it in his pocket all day. It was a small token, but it felt like a lifeline. "Thanks, I'm surprised you knew it was my birthday" Hughie said, his voice barely above a whisper.
A-Train shrugged, his shoulders hunched. "It's in your file," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. Hughie picked up the candy bar, his stomach rumbling. It was the first sweet thing he'd had in what felt like an eternity. He unwrapped it slowly, savoring the smell. As he took a bite, A-Train slumped against the wall, his eyes on the floor. The silence stretched out between them, as uncomfortable as the cot beneath Hughie.
"How's the new season treating you?" Hughie asked, trying to keep the conversation going. A-Train snorted. "It's a joke," he said, his voice low and bitter. "They're bringing in some kid, the seven's new little girl. They think she's going to be the next big thing." Hughie felt a spark of something, an emotion other than anger or despair. "What's her name?"
"Some shit like Starlight," A-Train spat. "Bright, shiny, and full of hope. Just what we need." The room grew quiet again, but it was a different kind of quiet. Less tense, more... resigned. Hughie took another bite of the candy bar, the sweetness briefly masking the bitter taste in his mouth. He swallowed hard and met A-Train's gaze. "You know, I had a wish for my birthday." A-Train looked up, his expression unreadable. "Yeah?"
"I want to see the outside," Hughie said, his voice firm. "Just for a minute."
The supe's eyes narrowed. "That's not happening," he said, his voice flat. "Why not?" Hughie pressed. "You're in here all the time anyway. What's the harm in letting me see the sky?" A-Train stared at him for a long moment, his eyes unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Yeah, it's me," he said, his voice gruff. "I need a favor. Take him to the observation room," A-Train said, his voice cold. "But just for a minute."
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