Cry for Help

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/NCIS/Arrow
Chapter Summary: Andrew meets the Archer.
Word Count: 1561
Rating: Gen
Note: (I'm still reworking the installment coming up soonish because I'm not happy with it...we'll see what happens.  This one's weird because while I don't like to write flirting when someone's already taken, it also feels very comic book/CWish.)

 

         Andrew tries not to gasp in excitement when the arrow knocks the bowl of lamb’s blood out of his hands.  It spills all over his hands and the floor, but he doesn’t even care that his hands are wet when there’s a real-life superhero standing not five feet from him.
         Two more arrows fly into his Sith robes (utilized because he doesn’t have any better cultist robes) and pin him to the floor, and he gulps at that.  On one hand, it sucks, because these robes weren’t cheap to buy or dye, but on the other hand…
         “I don’t think Sunnydale of all places needs more demons, do you?” the hero growls.
         “Are you planning on leaving me pinned?”  He sounds a little breathless, which earns a frown.
         “For who, the police?” the archer asks with derision, and, well, that’s fair.
         “To…teach me a lesson?” he asks, and that earns a chuckle.
         “Simply leaving you here for the building owners would be enough?” he asks, and—wow, he’s having an actual conversation with the town superhero.
         He glances down at the chalk circle he’d drawn for reference and giggles.  “Well.  Not that, specifically.”
         “I’m listening,” the Archer responds, cocking his head to the side.  He lowers his bow slightly.
         Confidence, Andrew reminds himself.  A guy hunting demons with a bow and arrow isn’t like Warren.  Warren truly is one of those supervillains, and not even an honorable one or a crazy one that you love to hate, or hate to love.  He’s not Vader, he’s more like…what, Palpatine, maybe?  It’s true that you get caught in his orbit, but it’s not like he’s the bad guy people like.  “I—uh, okay, this is not how I planned on this conversation going.  I’m kind of…Okay, I’m gay, and I’m having a crisis about the fact that I have a crush on Warren, so this is kind of my cry for help?”
         The vigilante doesn’t sound judging.  “You knew I’d come.”  He’d figured it out, that Andrew had tried to get in contact.  Via summoning demons.  You know, as you do in Sunnydale.
         “I hoped,” he corrects, shivering and trying not to suddenly cry.
         “Why come to me?” he asks, again with a neutral tone.
         “I’ve always wanted to meet a real-life superhero.  Buffy’s really something, but she’s not…”  He’s not sure how to end the sentence. 
         “She’s not male,” the Archer states quietly and prowls forward in a predatory way that makes Andrew’s mouth go dry.  The hero crouches, slowly, and he knows that it all shows on his face.  “She doesn’t take any of you seriously, but at the same time, she’d judge you.”  The Archer’s voice is deeper than his usual beneath that mask, which is probably an effort.  Still, it’s kind of cool that he can pull it off.  Andrew can’t do different voices very much.
         “W-Warren she should at least take seriously, though.  He’s got big plans, and…”  He lowers his voice, face, to try to hide the tears, because on one hand he doesn’t want to sell anyone out, he really doesn’t, but on the other hand…  “His girlfriend broke up with him, and he has a plan to get her back.  Wh-whatever she thinks about it d-doesn’t matter.  And he’s serious about hurting people.”
         “Andrew,” the voice continues, purposefully light, and it’s a pleasant shock to realize he knows my name he’s probably looked me up oh wow, “…does he hurt you?”
         He starts crying in earnest when he realizes there’s tightly controlled anger in that tone.  That it’s slightly protective.  The Archer, the Slayer’s Robin Hood, has done well at separating his lives, of controlling all emotion when he’s wearing the hoodie, but what he’s feeling is strong enough to leak through.
         He freezes entirely as leather gloves touch his face and wipe away the tears.
         “Even if I might deserve it, Katrina doesn’t,” he eventually whispers.
         “How did you deserve it?” the voice asks gently.  “Whatever it is, it can’t be all that bad.”
         He starts giggling again, through the tears.  “I love B5.  Especially the whole rivalry between Londo and G’kar.  They don’t realize how much they need each other even as they hate each other for the longest time, but there’s this whole destiny/symmetry sort of thing going—”
         “Much as I’d love to talk Babylon 5 all night…” The voice sounds amused, now.  “Seriously, what did you do to deserve an abusive, controlling, gaslighting relationship?  Name something specific.”
         Andrew blinks.  It seems so obvious, but when asked to put it into words, he’s a little stumped.  “Uhm.  Summoning demons?” he tries tentatively.
         The laughter he hears in return is deep and rich and he wouldn’t mind recording that and using it as an alarm or something.  “Been there, done that.  Try again.”
         His mind boggles a little.  The Archer can’t have done that, so it must’ve…been the man behind the hood.  Still, from everything people have told him about the man’s secret identity when he’s been asking around, he can actually see that happening a lot easier than he would’ve thought.  “Becoming a villain in the first place?” he tries, even quieter than the first time.
         “Look, if Hawkeye, Xena, and the Terminator can be originally villains and are still redeemable, that doesn’t matter, either,” the superhero states reasonably, and…
         Well, much as the other two of the Trio like to proclaim themselves as geeks, they only really like to debate about who the hottest women in any franchise would be.  Xand—no, he can’t think the name, that should stay separate, it’s a secret identity even if it’s not so much in the way of secret—the Archer is having the kind of conversation he likes to have, making references and relating them in a way that matters to real life. 
         “My personality?” he whispers, fighting off the urge to bury himself in the Archer’s arms and relax there, just forget about the world.
         The superhero chuckles at him, and—yes, the stoic bowman is smiling.  “Did you just forget about the part where I said the Terminator?”
         “I don’t deserve it?”  It’s a question he can’t quite bring himself to believe, but if a superhero thinks so, well, he’s more likely to know, isn’t he?
         “Let me think.  Here’s a supervillain who’s not quite comfortable with the idea of rape, so he comes up with this plan to warn the superheroes.  He comes up with a good reason for himself to be out so his fellow supervillains won’t ask where he is, makes sure the superhero most likely to listen will show up, and tells them, not only about the plan but also about the mastermind in their little group.  Now tell me, does this supervillain deserve to be hurt, or is this the beginnings of a redemption arc?  Is this supervillain capable of more, and more good, than has been shown?”  The Archer is smiling proudly.  “You’re the scholar of comics.  You tell me.”
         That’s right.  All he needs to do is reframe what’s happening, and the Archer is an outsider.  Not an impartial one, but still.  He’s got a better eye on what’s going on than someone who’s in the situation.
         “Does a crush on the superhero have any place in this redemption arc?” he gathers the courage to tease, and feels a little more comfortable at the way the smile grows into a wide smirk.
         “Particularly since he’s dating someone else?  Given the way comics are written, yeah, probably.”  And there it is, the truth is on the table, but it doesn’t feel controlling or confining, like he’s in a tight box and can’t breathe.  Here, pinned to the floor by heavy robes and arrows deeply embedded in them and the floor, latest scheme drying on his hands and the floor, he’s never felt more free.
         “I have to go back, though…” he realizes quietly, and he’s definitely not imagining the panic in those pretty brown eyes.  “No, seriously, hear me out.  I’m working at HYDRA.  I’m undercover.  I can keep my eyes on the prize as long as I get to see you now and then, which if I continue doing supervillain things and you keep patrolling, I will, right?”
         The Archer bites his lips, but nods.  For once, someone’s recognizing his decision, his ability to make a decision, and not second-guessing him or undercutting him.  For all he knows, that’s the only reason the hero agrees, but even if that is the only reason, it still feels amazing.  “It’d probably be in bad taste to invite you to my wedding, huh?”
         “I know a disguise spell.  I’ll be there,” Andrew promises, and the Archer stumbles back, unthinking panic in his eyes.  “It’s not all that hard to figure out, but I’ve been pretending I don’t know.  Safer for everyone.”
         He gets to hear the chuckle once more.  “My life is weird.  If I leave you pinned places, though, that gives you an excuse.”
         "The Archer's figured out I'm the weak link.  Though for different reasons than Warren will assume," he agrees, and watches the Archer sling his bow at his back, jump for a handhold at the outside wall, and quickly parkour his way out of the building.  He closes his eyes and feels at peace for the first time in a long while.