Podcast of a Teenage Super-Villian

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Escaping Fate

Despicable—grandson

Fucking fantastic.

That's how this is going, to put it in less than professional terms, and Chip's not having it. Gideon is tied up on the floor, immobile, sickeningly still. For the most part, Chip hardly remembers that Gideon's even here at all, and it makes his stomach churn, how much this man is suddenly just a prop in a game. The stranger, tied up with him, back to back. This one talks more.

"Jesus Christ, all I wanted was to lose my stupid powers. All I wanted was to be normal. Do you know what it's like, to have cool super friends and have them always be rescuing you, just a non-stop thing. All the time, like I'm not a normal guy, like I'm just something that they have to rescue."

Max clenches his jaw. "Shut up! Shut up! What do I need to do to shut you up?"

The stranger makes a mrrrrooow, his eyebrows quirked. "So that's what you're into—"

Gideon slaps his hand on to the stranger's, and finally, he stops talking. Just closes his eyes and sighs against the boy. Chip takes a deep breath. He isn't tied. He had to watch, helplessly, as Max strung the other boys together with the red humming rope that he, unfortuntely,  helped provide him. And it sucks. Standing there, watching. He wants Finn and Kai as much as he hates to admit it. He wants those calming eyes, he wants someone to grab him by the shoulder again and yank him back into common-sense land like they did last night.

But they're not here. So Chip sits down on the couch, Max hovering in the air, seething. "Why are you here?"

"To stop you." Chip laces his hands behind his head to keep himself from punching Max's mouth in. It had felt so good to do that, more than good. It felt like relief, like all the parts that Max had twisted up and broken had now easily slipped back into place. That one punch. That one slash of motion, resulting in the blood flowing up to the surface of the water.

But that hadn't stopped him. The revenge hadn't stopped him.

"I'm just trying to start over." Max sits down beside him on the couch, their knees only inches apart, and in another life, they could've just been two friends, plopping down to talk about sports or politics or school or work. Max, running his fingers through his hair, his dark tee shirt straining against his muscles, big chocolate eyes cold. Chip, stiff, his twitching hands laced in this fake casual way.

"Yeah, start over. If that's all it is, I don't think that fucking explains why there are two boys tied up on the ground?" His voice trembles. He wanted to beat him at his own game, all cool and impassive, just like Max. Turns out that's almost impossible, considering Chip has a heart, unlike his like his old friend.

Max draws in a deep breath. "That wouldn't have happened if you hadn't come here."

Chip has to maneuver carefully, he knows this the moment he looks into the eyes of the guy he was once best friends with, the guy who he couldn't help crushing on. He knows this when he sees the cold and glassiness of those eyes. When he offers up a counter, he has to see it like he's moving a game piece. Playing chess, that's how he has to see it. "Really, because I think I saw you choking that kid out the window, you know, before I became a part of your life here."

Max shrugs and gives him a bared-teeth smile. "Maybe you put a wrench in my plans? Because, if you hadn't dragged me back here, you screaming, Gideon wouldn't be tied up right now."

Chip grabs a fist full of his own hair, because lacing his hands to keep them off Max doesn't feel like it'll last as long as he'd like it to. All the memories of Max dancing goofily to vinyls and proudly showing off his best friend, they finally feel like smoke. The grip of 'maybe it's my fault' subsides when he looks at Gideon. This isn't Gideon's fault, Gideon never deserved this, whoever he might be. No one deserves what Max says he has to do to them.