Take the good with all the bad

by oooSilverWolfooo

Summary:

When Hartley decides not to tell her new neighbors' villain secret, she is sure she can handle anything that comes with it. For all of a day.

OR

 

“You know that wasn’t okay, right?” Hartley presses desperately. “That’s not normal.”

Amy snorts. “Which part?”

“All of it,” Hartley insists.

“It’s whatever,” Amy shrugs. “You DO remember that we’re villains, right?”

“That doesn’t make it okay!” Hartley’s voice rises. She hates that she is more upset about this than her friend is.

Notes:

A/N: I wrote this over a year ago. I actually think I started it before I started writing When a villain makes a friend. So now I'm hoping I'll actually finish it if I start posting it, because I'm actually very fond of this one. It's only supposed to be 3 or 4 parts.

Chapter 1: Part 1

When Hartley found out that Amy was actually Havoc, she was appropriately shocked and terrified. After all, what was a supervillain doing in a small town like Valley View? Surely nothing good.

 

       But then Havoc is telling her about how she doesn’t care about anyone but herself, and it doesn’t sound like the way a villain should be proclaiming that statement, and Hartley’s chest twinges at the look on her face as she talks about her family and why they are on the run.

 

       Hartley hates when people are upset or sad; everything in her screams to try to make it better whether they want her to or not, and her instinctive empathy doesn’t seem to find the villain an exception.

 

       Havoc doesn’t seem very villainous in that moment, with those solemn, genuinely morose, eyes, crouched with her behind a boulder in another dimension (and Havoc had hopped into another dimension to try and save her- again, not something that villains just did).

 

       But then her brother comes through the portal next, and Havoc’s entire personality immediately changes from a somewhat sad girl Hartley’s own age, to the snarky and angry girl she was before this mess.

 

       Hartley doesn’t know which version is the more real one- the mean, angry, Havoc, or the more genuine Amy. She didn’t think all that was a performance or act, which is what has Hartley hesitating to tell her grandmother of the nature of the family renting their house.

 

       Hartley still wants to fix it- fix that sad loneliness she saw in Amy’s eyes. It’s gone now, but she knows emotion like that doesn’t just go away. It gets buried. Hidden.

 

       So she decides maybe she can change them. Amy, but also her entire villain family. After all, when the rest find out that she knows their secret, they don’t immediately kill her off to keep her silent. They can’t be all that bad.

 

       Besides, she can always turn them in later if they do anything too terrible.

 

       Her worries of letting them go free ease some the next day. It didn’t take her long, nor did it surprise her, to realize that they were trying to blackmail her. They are villains, of course they wouldn’t trust her to keep her word.

 

       The worst they do is try to frame her for some petty vandalism, and they aren’t even very clever about it. They seem childish and cartoonish, rather than evil supervillains, as they tried to sabotage each other’s efforts, though she’s not really sure what was going on with the marker Amy tried to get her to grab.

 

       It gives her the confidence she needs to be sure that she can handle the Maddens. If she needs to be a little bad herself to keep them out of trouble, such as blackmailing them in return, she can be.

 

       Her grasp of her handle on the situation almost immediately plummets. It hits sharp rocks at the bottom and shatters after she comes through the back door of the Madden house, ready to drag her reluctant new friend to school, only to freeze when the lair swings open and Vic comes storming out.

 

       He points something small and metal at Amy accusingly. “You broke my device!”

 

       Amy merely glances up from her pancakes with a bored expression. “Well, yeah, I didn’t want you controlling me again,” she scoffs.

 

       Hartley can only watch with wide eyes as he reels his hand back, and then chucks the metal device at her friend with what looks like all his strength. It’s small, but it’s made of metal, and it bounces heavily to the floor after it smacks Amy full force in the face.

 

       While Hartley gasps, Amy only grunts as her hand automatically drops her fork to press into her forehead where the object had struck her, and hunches forward slightly in pain.

 

       “That’s okay,” Vic says gleefully, hand diving into his pocket and withdrawing an identical device. “I made two. Ha ha! Eat pancake.”

 

       The tip of his invention turns red, and Amy stiffens as her arm jolts to the side with the device’s movement, and then she slams her face forward, hard, into her pancakes. Everything on the table jumps with the force of it.

 

       Hartley gasps, automatically looking to the others present to share in the horror of what she just witnessed. But Eva merely sips her coffee and doesn’t look up from her bored scrolling on her phone. Jake, the nicest one of the family, laughs at his sister, pointing.

 

       Colby’s response is the most reasonable. He takes cover, diving under the table and turning into a brick.

 

       “Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?” Vic practically giggles in delight, turning his attention to his oldest and pointing his device. Jake’s smile immediately drops as his own arm lifts and starts hitting him in the face. “Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?”

 

       Hartley’s eyes stay locked on Amy as she very slowly lifts her face from her plate. It’s eerily blank behind syrup sticking to her. She stands up as Jake continues hitting himself and trying to voice complaints.

 

       “I’m going to school,” she says, pushing out of the kitchen.

 

       Hartley darts after her, eyes wide, heart thudding. “Amy, wait!” she calls.

 

       Amy doesn’t at first, and Hartley follows her out the front door. She stops on her own once they make it outside, before Hartley can reach for her wrist. She turns, using her bare hands to wipe at the syrup on her face.

 

       “What?” she asks, voice, expression, all still not reacting properly the way she should be. Her forehead is rapidly turning red with the beginning of a bruise, and there is a little blood leaking from a cut the device must have made when it hit her.

 

       Hartley hesitates, before dropping onto the porch step and bringing her backpack in front of her to fish for some napkins she knows are stuffed in there somewhere. “Come here, please,” she requests once she finds them.

 

       Amy watches her curiously before joining her on the step.

 

       When Hartley reaches out to help clean her off, Amy flinches, entire body stiffening as she leans away, eyes turning suspicious and untrusting. Hartley freezes, arm still outstretched, and heart painful in her chest. Amy stares at her hard for a long moment, and when she doesn’t make any further retreat than she already has, Hartley very slowly continues reaching for her.

 

       Amy stares her down, unmoving as Hartley gently wipes at the syrup. It’s sticky and doesn’t want to come off, so she reaches for her water bottle to wet the napkins. It comes off easier after that, and by the time Hartley moves to dab at the blood (it was just a small scrape, thankfully), Amy has relaxed again and almost seems to lean into Hartley’s touch.

 

       Amy’s expression has changed from its distrust, to something more along the lines of fascination as Hartley moves to clean her hands from the syrup as well. She limply allows it. Hartley hates it.

 

       Just yesterday, she thought she could handle the Maddens. This suddenly seems like more than she can handle.

 

       She finally meets Amy’s inquisitive eyes once she thinks she got all the syrup off her hands, letting their fingers linger together. Amy doesn’t seem against the touch now that she knows Hartley’s intent behind it.

 

       Hartley’s throat feels tight when she speaks. “You okay?”

 

       Hartley blinks, and then the soft expression Amy’s face had adopted, melts away as she rolls her eyes. She doesn’t withdraw her hands, though, she notices.

 

       “Fine. Why?”

 

       There’s not any response Hartley would have liked, but that one is one of the more concerning ones her friend could have adopted. Anger would have been less worrisome than indifference.

 

       “You know that wasn’t okay, right?” Hartley presses desperately. “That’s not normal.”

 

       Amy snorts. “Which part?”

 

       “All of it,” Hartley insists.

 

        “It’s whatever,” Amy shrugs. “You do remember that we’re villains, right?”

 

       “That doesn’t make it okay!” Hartley’s voice rises. She hates that she is more upset about this than her friend is.

 

       Amy rolls her eyes again. “Can we go now? I thought you were all about being on time and all that.”

 

       Hartley wants to continue pressing. To convince the girl how not okay it is for her parents to hurt her. To build something that literally controls someone else's body and use it on your own kids. She doesn’t think she’ll get anywhere, though, and Amy is right that they’ll be late to school if they don’t leave soon.

 

       Jake decides for her as he comes tromping out the door with Colby on his heels. They both pause at the sight of them sitting on the steps, and Amy immediately, once again, changes. She pulls her hands away and straightens, face becoming more annoyed.

 

       “What are you doing?” Jake drawls, looking between them, a red mark on the side of the face he’d been hitting himself on.

 

       “Mind your own business,” Amy snaps, quickly rising to her feet. Hartley hurriedly stuffs her napkins back into her backpack to dispose of later and straightens as well.

 

       “Well that’s not suspicious,” he says, turning questioning eyes on Hartley. She only offers an apologetic shrug. Amy wouldn’t appreciate her bringing him into it, and she can try her own appeals on Jake later, when Amy isn’t there to scoff at it. Jake seems a little more willing to listen to things like this.

 

……………….

 

Hartley almost screams bloody murder when her bedroom window is slid open. Her second story bedroom window.

 

       Luckily, she clamps down on it as she spots the individual climbing through.

 

       “You should really put some locks on this thing, it’s way too easy to get up here,” Amy says, moving slower than her usual smooth, confident, movements.

 

       Hartley clutches at her speeding heart, willing it to slow and her vocals to stop squeezing enough that she can talk.

 

       “I will, now!” she chokes out. “You can’t just climb through the window? Why didn’t you come through the door?”

 

       “Cause Celia is home,” Amy says, like it’s obvious. “That woman scares me nearly as bad as my own mother,” she shivers.

 

       Hartley straightens, attention immediately focussing on that admittance. But then Amy is sprawling across Hartley’s bed, and her movements are still wrong- stiff- and she groans as she carefully lowers herself onto her stomach.

 

       “I fucked up today,” she mumbles into Hartley’s comforter.

 

       Hartley’s blood runs cold. “Are you hurt?!” she panics, instantly reaching out for her friend.

 

       Amy jolts, recoiling from Hartley’s hands as she looks at her in surprise and confusion.

 

       “What, no. Well, yeah, but that’s not my fault. Jake and I were trying to give Colby his first villain mission- you know, cause he was sad he didn’t get his powers till now- but we kind of ruined it and started fighting each other instead.”

 

       There is a lot to unpack in all that, but the one Hartley latches onto right now is, “You and Jake fought?! Where are you hurt?”

 

       Amy shrugs. “Just my back- got thrown into the damn lockers.” Then she grins, face painted in self-satisfaction. “Don’t worry, I blasted him back good. His ears will be ringing for a we- woah, what are you doing ?”

 

       Hartley doesn’t let herself freeze this time as Amy cringes away from her, just continues pushing at Amy until she’s back on her stomach. “I’m looking at your back, now sit still,” she demands to her friend’s twisting and squirming.

 

       Amy stills, her entire body ridged with tension. Hartley forces herself to ignore it as she pulls up the back of the villain’s shirt. She can’t help gasping at the one big bruise along the expanse of her friend’s back. No wonder she was moving so stiffly, Hartley thinks it’s a miracle she managed to climb the side of the house.

 

       “Stay here, let me get some ice,” Hartley demands, climbing off her bed. She can’t see her friend’s face, but she doesn’t move as she rushes out of her room.

 

       She has an easy time avoiding her grandmother as she pulls a couple cold packs from the freezer and snatches the entire bottle of Advil from the cabinet next to it. She’s only been gone a minute or two, but it feels like too long as she half worries that Amy might have made an escape for it back out the window.

 

       But she’s still there when Hartley returns, peeking up at her from the blanket her lower face is buried in. She watches Hartley with an unfathomable expression as she drops the cold packs to the bed, before gently arranging them one by one across her back.

 

       Slowly, Amy relaxes into the mattress. Even slower, her eyes close. “You’re weird,” she mumbles, turning her head back forward so she can bury it in the blanket again.

 

       “Cause I’m concerned about my friend being hurt?” Hartley asks, sitting back on her heels.

 

       “Yeah,” Amy sighs. It twists something in Hartley, and she reaches out to grasp her friend’s hand. Amy doesn’t twitch at the touch this time, only hesitantly grasping it back.

 

       Hartley shifts into a more comfortable position where she can chat with her friend, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. “Why were you and Jake fighting?”

 

       Amy shrugs her shoulders, making one of the ice packs start to slide sideways. Hartley absently fixes it. “Just felt like hitting him, and he always hits back. We kind of got carried away. Accidentally hurt Colby instead of giving him his villain experience.”

 

       “Is Colby okay?” Hartley turns a concerned look to the side of Amy’s relaxed face.

 

       “Yeah, we took him to the vet.”

 

       Hartley decides not to ask about the details of that, and turns her head away again. She thinks she’s beginning to understand the Maddens a little bit. They all clearly care for each other in some way- Amy wouldn’t have stood up for her mom, or tried to make her younger brother happy, if she hadn’t- but they also don’t think anything of hurting each other. Of throwing things, or insulting. They don’t see anything wrong with it, when it seems so, so wrong to Hartley.

 

       It also seems dangerous how they don’t think anything of their actions, how they don’t seem to know restraint. She wonders if it’s even possible for them to change.

 

       Thinking back on the wonder Amy watched her with, the way she slowly relaxed as Hartley didn’t hurt her ‘just because,’ she thinks it must be.

 

………………

 

Hartley gives a small shriek of joy when she sees the concert tickets that Amy had just unceremoniously shoved into her hands.

 

       “No way, how did you get these?!”

 

       Amy just shrugs, looking mildly uncomfortable and pretending for all the world to be put upon rather than like a small, pleased, smile isn’t trying to fight its way onto her face.

 

       “I have my ways,” she shrugs, which gives Hartley pause because, well, it’s very possible they were illegally obtained.

 

       Then she decides to just let herself be happy and lunges for her friend with another excited squeak.

 

       Amy immediately goes rigid under Hartley's arms, and she sounds slightly panicked when she says, “What are you doing?”

 

       “Hugging you?” Hartley asks, feeling the tenseness under her arms.

 

       “Why?” Amy asks.

 

       Hartley slowly draws back, not letting her hands drop from her friend’s stiff shoulders, as she meets horribly confused eyes. “Because I’m happy? And I’m saying thank you?”

 

       “By grabbing at me? Nothing good comes from human contact,” Amy scoffs, and Hartley quickly retracts her hands, not wanting to make her friend feel uncomfortable. But when her hands leave her shoulders, an almost hesitant look comes over Amy’s face. Then she says– “Wait… do it again.”

 

       Hartley lunges at her friend a second time and ignores the way Amy remains stiff with her arms by her side.

 

………………

 

Hartley startles when she feels two fingers slip through her own, and she looks over at Amy who has her face turned away, looking at the passing houses as they walk to school. She wears an uncomfortable expression, so Hartley decides not to bring attention to the new development and just smiles.

 

       Jake had left for school ahead of them, so it’s just them on the peaceful walk. “What’s a Wheel of Torment,” Hartley asks, even though she knows she won’t like the answer.

 

       “Oh, it’s how mom decides to punish us when we mess up. Or, you know, if she’s feeling particularly angry that day. It’s totally sadistic. Which is why I need to get her something nice for mother’s day.”

 

       “She makes you spin a wheel for your punishments?” Hartley asks.

 

       “Yeah. Why, how does your grandma punish you?”

 

       “She just grounds me,” Hartley says.

 

       Amy hums in recognition. “Ah, yeah, I’ve been grounded before.” Hartley feels a thread of hope, before it is utterly crushed by her friend’s next horrifying words. “Luckily Colby reminded them I was down there before I ran completely out of air. Do you know how useless sonic powers are being six feet under? Yeah, they only make the problem worse.”

 

       “Your parents buried you alive,” Hartley can’t help bursting, whirling on her friend and pulling her up short by their linked hands.

 

       Amy blinks in confusion. “Um. Yes? Wait, what do you mean by grounded, then?”

 

       “Taking my phone away! Not letting me go out or do anything fun!” Hartley feels like she’s going to go insane because of this girl. Or develop an actual anxiety disorder. Her heart is beating way too fast.

 

       “Really, that’s it?” Amy raises her eyebrows. “That’s all Celia- your grandmother, Celia- does to punish you? But she seems so scary.”

 

       Hartley readjusts her grip on Amy’s hand, holding it properly. “Burying your child alive is not normal! Your mother’s Wheel of Torment is not normal! That’s abuse, Amy, you realize that, right?”

 

       Amy only stares at her as she says it outright for the first time. Finally, horribly, Amy shrugs and looks away. She tugs Hartley forward, forcing her to walk again. Hartley doesn’t pull her eyes away from her face as she leads the way to school.

 

       “Maybe for civilians, but it’s normal for us. And even if it could be considered abuse, we’re supervillains. Being evil is kind of what we do. The only protection being family has against that, is who we also let torment each other.”

 

       Hartley wants to scream. She wants to take her friend by the shoulders and shake her till she understands.

 

       “You can love someone and still be abusive to them.”

 

       “What?” Amy whips her head around, panic and disgust twisting her face. “Ew. Gross, where’d you get that idea. I don’t love them. At most, I’m…. mildly attached.”

 

       That future anxiety disorder isn’t far off. She’s in way over her head trying to fix this family. They need therapy. Lots and lots of therapy. “Okay,” Hartley sighs, giving up for the moment. “I’ll help you win your mom’s twisted competition.”

 

       Amy brightens.

 

……………….

 

Hartley feels a modicum of hope when Eva decides to get rid of her Wheel of Torment. When she reassures Amy that maybe there is something to just spending time together.

 

       Amy climbs through her window to tell her what happened with somewhat wide, disbelieving eyes. Her face is flushed slightly in embarrassed happiness.

 

       Maybe Hartley can make a difference.

 

………………

 

She hears the yelling long before she crosses over to the Maddens’ yard. It’s muffled but angry, and loud enough for anyone passing on the street to be encouraged to take a second glance. Loud enough for a concerned neighbor to maybe call the police.

 

       Hartley rushes in through the back door just as the door leading to the kitchen bounces off a wall as Amy shoves into it. A lamp follows after her, shattering against the door, but she doesn’t flinch as shards brush dangerously by her face, only whirling into the doorway to shout into the living room, “Fuck you!” before flinging the door shut again with all her might.

 

       The look on Amy’s face is a terrifying one as she doesn’t seem to even see Hartley as she yanks on the banana and disappears into the lab. Her shoulders are heaving in sharp, heavy, breaths.

 

       Hartley doesn’t think twice about following, wearily closing the lab door behind her. She watches from the steps as Amy stalks into the middle of the lab, entire body shaking, fists clenched.

 

       And then her hands come up to rip at her hair, and she screams.

 

       It’s an inhuman sounding scream, so loud and painful that Hartley’s hands automatically clamp over her ears as she watches the air around her friend physically ripple as it becomes momentarily solid.

 

       Amy bends double with her scream, staggering and nearly falling to her knees, but she keeps her feet as she screams and screams and tugs roughly at her hair. She scratches red lines next to the bulging veins in her neck.

 

       Every piece of glass in the lab shatters, and it’s like a wave rushes out from Amy, shoving everything away from her. Tables, tools, delicate experiments and complete gadgets, all get thrown and thrashed against walls.

 

       After an inordinately long time, Amy gasps for breath and the room momentarily stills, and then Amy is spinning and yanking her manikin out of it’s nook and screaming again as she tears at it, ripping the belts and armor and buckles off, along with the manikin’s head.

 

       This scream isn’t the power fueled one as before. Now it sounds only somewhat inhuman, filled with wild, wounded, anger as she falls to her knees, as she punches the now headless manikin over and over, and continues trying to rip at the suit. Havoc’s suit.

 

       She hadn’t touched the other ones.

 

       Hartley’s pulse is loud and painful in her veins, in her throat, and her ears are still ringing as she quickly comes down the steps toward her friend.

 

       She’s not entirely sure what to do, whether she should just let this play out or try to calm Amy- if Amy can be calmed.

 

       In the end, she waits until Amy wears herself out and her punches slow to weak, half-hearted, hits, and she doesn’t have enough air to scream anymore. Her entire body trembles as she pants, straddling the manikin, clutching weakly at the reinforced fabric with bloody knuckles.

 

       Only then does Hartley risk reaching out, pulling her away and into her arms. Amy goes weakly, falling limp against her as she holds her from behind, clutching at her waist. Amy’s head lulls against Hartley’s as she stares dully at her ruined suit.

 

       Hartley feels shaken and unnerved as she holds her friend after what appeared to be a complete meltdown. Amy isn’t crying, though. She’d oddly silent now except for her heaving breaths.

 

       She still has blood dripping down her face from where glass shards had caught her. Her own nail marks on her neck are raised and swelling.

 

       “What happened,” Hartley asks, forcing herself to sound calm when she really feels the farthest thing from it.

 

       Her voice seems to bring Amy back to life slightly, as she finally acknowledges her presence. Her eyes cut away from the destroyed manikin to stare at the floor.

 

       “Nothing new.” Her voice sounds rough and painful. Raw. She struggles to swallow. “Just me being a fuck up.”

 

       Hartley winces at the harsh language, and hugs her friend tighter. “What do you mean by that?”

 

       Amy’s knees lift up toward her chest, and she finally clutches back at Hartley, lightly gripping the arms around her.

 

       “Jake is the disappointment. He’s weak and likes stupid shit. But I’m the failure- the screw up. The one that actually tries, but still fucks it all up.” Her leg kicks out weakly, bumping the suit further away, before drawing it back up. “I always mess everything up.”

 

       Hartley nuzzles into the back of her friend’s neck with a sigh, not knowing what to say that Amy won’t just brush off or excuse as false platitudes. Saying nothing isn’t an option either, cause silence would just be taken as agreement.

 

       “Not this,” Hartley finally says. It’s something small. It’s something enormous. Something important.

 

       “Yet,” Amy croaks weakly, tightening her grip on Hartley’s arms and pressing back more firmly against her.

 

       “I believe in you,” Hartley says, and that novel thing makes Amy’s breath catch.

 

……………..

 

Things take a turn when Amy actively starts plotting murder.

 

       Hartley’s anxiety shoots through the roof as she tries to talk her friend out of it, to reason with her, but she’s never seen Hartley so directionally angry before. So full of hate.

 

       And Jake doesn’t help, taunting her with the meme he made.

 

       Hartley doesn’t find the meme funny anymore- Amy bruised and bloody and laying on the ground. One of her failures. She doesn’t know how Jake can find it funny when he’s the one who found her like that- his sister. He’s trying to be a better person, but he’s not a good person. Amy isn’t either, considering she’s planning to kill someone, but Hartley hopes that they can be some day.

 

       Hartley is attached now. She’s invested. She doesn’t know if she can turn them in, even over this. She had planned to if things got out of hand, and murder plots are definitely out of hand, but she can’t bring herself to stop it the one way she knows can stop it.

 

       She… doesn’t want to lose Amy. She’s seen that there is more to her than a villain. Amy’s emotions are often wild and out of control, but that’s because she cares a lot more about certain things than a lot of other people care about most things, even if she won’t admit it or if they aren’t about the typical things someone cares for.

 

       Hartley’s seen Amy display an emotional depth that she wouldn’t have expected from someone so apathetic of people not in her immediate orbit. This murder, no matter how horrible, is also a sign of those strong sentiments.

 

       In the end, she and Jake manage to stop her, even if they hadn’t managed to talk her out of it. It leaves her heart nearly beating out of her chest as they leave ColossaCon, though not from coming face to face with her favorite hero.

 

       She doesn’t know what she would have done if Amy had succeeded.

 

…………….

 

“Why do you hate Starling so much?”

 

       Hartley watches Amy as she unabashedly snoops through Hartley’s room, opening every drawer and peeking in any nook.

 

       She sneers in disgust at Hartley’s question, but doesn’t pause in her nosy search. “Cause she’s a hero. Oh so perfect Starling, ” she scoffs. “She’s the worst. Acting all righteous and fake.”

 

       “You think she’s fake?” Hartley asks, curious.

 

       “Of course she is. They all are- pretending they care, when in reality they care more about their image and fame than actually being ‘good.’ I know I’m an asshole, at least I don’t try to hide it.”

 

       “How do you know?” Hartley presses. “That they are pretending?” This is important- this feels important.

 

       Amy finally stops to pin Hartley with an exasperated look. “Because she’s beaten me a dozen times, only so she could gloat about it afterward. She doesn’t arrest me. Why? Because then she wouldn’t have a villain to fight and triumph over in the eyes of the public.”

 

       Hartley’s stomach twists uncomfortably. That’s a very villain perspective. But a villain’s perspective isn’t inherently incorrect all the time. This one isn’t true, right? They do fight an awful lot, and Amy hasn’t ever been apprehended. Amy also clearly believes her words wholeheartedly.

 

       “Maybe she just sees something in you. You’re still technically a kid, maybe she believes you can be good, and is giving you a chance to change.”

 

       “Hartley,” she gives Hartley a look that says she thinks she just said the most stupid thing to ever be said, “the only one who has ever believed in me, is you.”

Notes:

A/N: I know this is pretty much a dead fandom, but please let me know what you guys think!

~Silver~

Chapter 2: Part 2

That summer is the best Hartley’s ever had, and it’s entirely due to Amy. Hartley’s never actually had real friends before. She’s friendly with almost everyone, but people don’t generally like her when they spend too much time together. They think Hartley is just ‘too much.’

 

       Having Amy as a friend is… literally life changing. There is so much more anxiety about certain things, but the things she normally gets anxious over don’t seem nearly as bad.

 

       Now most of her efforts and attention go toward helping the Maddens keep their secret (they are really bad at it, and she doesn’t know how the whole town doesn’t know by now) and convincing Amy not to litter. It’s a losing battle on the second part, but there has been a drastic shift in her friend’s attitude toward Hartley not long after the Mr. Tennyson debacle and Colby’s villain experience devolving into Amy and Jake’s fight.

 

       Hand holding becomes very common when they are out of sight of the other Maddens, and Amy takes to physical affection far faster and enthusiastically than the rebellious girl’s appearance and personality might suggest. Amy becomes very attentive to Hartley in other ways, too, more willing to follow her to her club activities (though not necessarily participating), becoming very protective of other people messing with or taking advantage of Hartley, and just generally seeking out her company.

 

       Hartley enjoys it a lot, getting to spend time with her friend. Despite being rude and apathetic to anyone other than Hartley, she’s funny and surprisingly caring.

 

       It feels like the rug gets yanked out from under her when Amy learns about Jake and Starling, and Hartley’s knowledge of them. She got so used to Amy being there, being affectionate, trusting Hartley, that it’s suddenly crushing when it changes.

 

       There are actual tears in Amy’s eyes as she says, “You know, for the first time in my life, I thought I made an actual friend. Someone who’d be there for me, have my back. But, you’re just as bad as Jake.” All of that emotion that’s only reserved for people in her orbit, all of that hurt, is all directed at Hartley, and it feels like her chest is going to explode. “You know, I never wanted a best friend in the first place and, uh… now I know why.” She feels like she’d do almost anything to fix it.

 

       To go back and not be the one that hurt her this time.

 

       Amy forgives her far quicker than she thought she would. Hartley wasn’t sure that she’d be able to with how distrusting she already was before this perceived betrayal.

 

       Unfortunately, all that anger is turned on Jake until he turns to villainy once more. Hartley can only watch as they pave a path of chaos and destruction in Amy’s gleeful rampage of villainy, convincing Jake to do bigger and bigger feats of harm in his determination to prove she can trust him.

 

       Hartley begs and pleads and, to her surprise, Amy listens. When Hartley actually manages to catch up with them, she gives in without any fight. Like she already knew it was inevitable.

 

……………….

 

Despite being possessed, Hartley remembers vividly everything that happened. Every word said. It plays in her head long after she’s gotten in bed and turned out the light.

 

“She’s the only person here I trust.”

 

       Her insides still feel wrong. Like her friend’s ghostly grandmother had scrambled something inside her while in control. She couldn’t feel much, but she could see clearly through her eyes, still.

 

       She could see Amy’s pleading, begging, face. “I need her. Aside from my family, she’s all I got.” She was willing to give up her life for Hartley. She was going to- it wasn’t a bluff. There was no plan or manipulation.

 

       Hartley wonders at how easily, how quickly, her friend had offered up her life. She doesn’t like it. It worries her. A lot.

 

       Hartley tosses and turns and can’t sleep despite the late hour. When she hears her window slide open, she feels grateful as she sits up. Amy must not be able to sleep either. Her relief dies when she hears her friend’s voice break through the dark.

 

       “Hartley.” It cracks, wobbly and pleading.

 

       Hartley immediately reaches out, pulling the girl onto the bed with her. A cold shock runs through her when Amy lets out a sob as she lunges into her arms, clutching strongly at her back.

 

       “I’m so sorry,” she heaves, the sound ripping painfully though Hartley. She pulls Amy tighter against herself, feeling slightly panicked. “I didn’t mean to. Please, I didn’t mean to.”

 

       “It’s okay,” Hartley reassures quickly. She’s never seen Amy like this before. It’s scarier than an angry Amy hellbent on murder. “It’s okay, I’m okay.” She’s been trying to get Amy to apologize- for anything- for ages. Now she does it with more feeling than Hartley’s ever heard in an apology.

 

       She can only hold on as Amy’s tears shake them both, and the front of her shirt gets drenched. It sticks to her chest uncomfortably, but she doesn’t dare try to remove her- the inside of her chest feels worse. Her heart beats too fast.

 

       This is a breakthrough, right? She thinks this would be considered a breakthrough. It doesn’t feel good. At all.

 

       Amy pulls herself together far quicker than a breakdown like this dictates. The noise she makes as she wrestles control sounds like a strangled thing as she gulps and gasps and presses her lips together to silence herself.

 

       When she breathes, it’s snotty and wet, which she works on next, sniffing away, until she’s just breathing wetly against Hartley’s collar. When she speaks again, her voice still sounds clogged and hoarse.

 

       “I’m sorry.” It’s just as sincere, but Hartley has a feeling she’s not apologizing for the possession this time. She gets it, unfortunately. Crying is humiliating, when it’s you. She can imagine it’d be worse for a villain.

 

       She decides to ignore that apology. It’s unneeded. The other one is unneeded too, but it still needs addressing.

 

       “You don’t need to keep apologizing, Amy. We already talked about this, and I already forgave you.”

 

       “I know, I just… I was trying to sleep, but I couldn’t. What happened just kept going through my head and my stomach kept twisting and felt horrible and I just… I needed to make sure you didn’t hate me now.”

 

       Hartley rubs her cheek against the top of her friend’s head. “I don’t.”

       “I could have lost you.” Voice wobble.

 

       “You didn’t. You fixed it. My hero.” She knows exactly what that claim would do, and she smiles as Amy scoffs. It’s a wet scoff, but it’s loaded with disgust.

 

       “Ew. No.” She doesn’t lift her head, though. She turns and presses her face further against Hartley’s chest. Her heart jolts.

 

       Hartley pushes her finger through tangled hair, gently peeling sticking strands from drying cheeks. She pushes the freed hair behind an ear and uses a thumb to gently rub at the tear tracks.

 

       Amy squeezes her eyes shut, and her body slightly trembles.

 

       Hartley pauses, and then gently tugs on her shoulders. “Come on, let's lay down. You can stay with me tonight.”

 

       “Okay.” Amy allows herself to be pulled down in the bed, automatically adjusting into a more comfortable position half-on her. Her head remains glued to her chest, and when Hartley goes back to loosening tangles in her friend’s hair, Amy relaxes fully for the first time all night.

 

       Something changes after that. It’s nothing visible, or tangible. Nothing Hartley can pinpoint. But Hartley can feel it when Amy looks at her, the way she looks at her. When Amy reaches for her hand.

 

       She’s not sure what has changed- until Hartley practices her audition song in front of her friend, and she watches Amy’s eyes widen and face soften and shift like she can’t believe Hartley is real.

 

       It’s not performance anxiety that has her heart racing by the end of the verse. It’s flattering and terrifying and not something she can think on while she’s also stressing about this audition.

 

       Of course she chokes anyway, and like an idiot, she lets Gem get in her head and make her think things that don’t even match up with what she knows of Amy. Yes, Amy is a villain, but she’s also unfailingly loyal to those she cares for.

 

       And there’s no doubt that she cares for Hartley. Different from her family, and more than a friend. It’s soul-bearingly visible as she stares at her and, “Hartley, I would never hurt you.”

 

       And she hasn’t. Not even in the ways she sometimes hurts her family when she rages and screams and throws things (though she’s never ever betrayed them when it counted).

 

       Hartley wonders if Amy is even aware of her feelings. Probably not. She’s bad at recognising emotions outside of rage.

 

       When they sing together, Hartley can’t help noticing how well the song fits them. How romantic it sounds while sitting so close and with the way Amy’s eyes are fixated on her. Hartley’s heart is in her throat as she briefly thinks about leaning forward and kissing her friend.

 

       It would be so easy. But… it wouldn’t be a good idea. Their friendship is complicated enough without adding even more layers to it, like a girlfriend as constipated of emotions as Amy is.

 

………………

 

Amy reacts to Declan about as well as Hartley expected. Which is to say, terribly. She expected it to go bad even before she realized the other girl’s feelings.

 

       Amy is naturally suspicious, and gets violent and irrational in her protectiveness, even when it’s not a cute boy that Hartley genuinely likes. But Hartley also refuses to be isolated by her friend, even if most of the time she doesn’t mind it just being the two of them.

 

       She knows it’s not healthy to be so wrapped up in one person, which is what Amy already is, and Hartley is trying very hard not to be. She wishes it wasn’t like what Amy told her grandmother, that Hartley was the only thing she had. Hartley wishes she trusted the world more not to hurt her.

 

       So she feels reassured in her decision not to pursue anything with her secluded friend, and Hartley really does like Declan. He’s nice to her and likes her in a way no one else (aside Amy) has before. He makes her feel nervous and fluttery and tongue tied.

 

       Amy makes her head spin and heart pound and feel like she’s not just the most important person in the world, but she is the world. But Declan is less complicated than Amy, and Hartley thinks that’s just what she needs.

 

       Amy is aggressive and jealous and goes way over the top to try proving he’s up to no good. Hartley isn’t sure how much is her general paranoia and how much is jealousy, but Hartley expected this reaction when Amy became aware of him. She did not expect her to bring Hartley’s grandmother into her insanity.

 

       It’s a miracle Declan isn’t scared away before Hartley manages to convince Amy to just let it go. To let Hartley take care of herself in this. Amy’s words, though, “I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off with Declan,” confirms for Hartley that her friend doesn’t even realize her feelings just yet. All the bad feelings just seem to translate to distrust. She doesn’t seem to know what to make of them outside of that.

 

……………….

 

Sometimes, when she watches Amy perform, Hartley can’t catch her breath. When Amy does something she actually wants to do, she does it with her entire being. When she sings, it’s with rage and passion and everything that makes a person have to pay attention. It’s like she tears part of her soul open, and it’s jaded and jagged and raw.

 

       It’s thrilling to be on stage with her, to have all that energy and realness directed at her when Amy glances over.

 

       It has Hartley thinking about it long after the night is over and she’s in bed, and even days later. The images of her friend are hard to shake. The emotions that rise from them, just as difficult.

 

       It leaves her flushed and kind of ashamed.

 

       Declan. She should be thinking about Declan. She likes Declan, too, and he’s the safer option.

 

……………………

 

The minute, the second, Colby mentions Declan saying she loved escape rooms, Hartley’s stomach drops, and an overwhelming feeling of dread fills her. It’s such a small thing. It shouldn’t matter past it being recognized as a little odd (she’s never even been to an escape room before to know if she’d like them).

 

       But Amy’s voice is in her head, and neither Amy or Jake are answering their phones. It’s like her body just knows that something is wrong. That’s why she grabs one of Vic’s weapons on her way out the door, intent on getting answers one way or another.

 

       The sick feeling only grows when she learns the truth. It’s a heavy, nauseous, feeling that makes the world seem entirely wrong. It’s not that he never actually liked her that makes her ears ring and feel far away. It’s that it’s her fault Amy is suddenly in danger. Amy warned her, and she thought it was jealousy and paranoia (is she really that full of herself?). It’s her fault Declan was able to get close enough to capture the Maddens, Amy never would have walked into the trap if it wasn’t for Hartley.

 

       That’s why she doesn’t hesitate in pulling the trigger on the device that she knows could very likely kill him.

 

       Things only get worse as she’s suddenly trying to talk her best friend out of running off on her own. Hartley feels like she’s teetering on the edge of hysteria as Amy takes her hands and tells her that there is essentially nothing she can do to stop her.

 

       She already knows that. It’s her brother. Despite their fighting, and insults, and genuine harm they sometimes do to each other, Amy loves her family and can’t stand anyone outside of it harming them. 

 

       Hartley feels like her heart is being ripped away as Amy and Jake step through the portal to Centropolis. She feels the panic lancing painfully through her veins as she waits for the only adults she can talk to about this, to return.

 

       Onyx is the big bad that’s been hanging over the Maddens’ heads since they arrived in Valley View. He seemed like this far off character that Hartley didn’t really believe in. At least, she didn’t believe he could, or ever would, actually reach them.

 

       Without her noticing, her view of villains has shifted into mean spirited, but ultimately harmless, pranks, bad parenting, and occasional B and E and thievery. Not kidnapping. Not anything where someone- Amy, Jake, Colby- could die. Amy could die.

 

       Hartley doesn’t have any powers. She doesn’t have the faintest idea of how she could be of any use, but she’s not really thinking when she uses the dematerializer on herself. She just knows that she has to be there. She has to be there- help fix it. This is all her fault.

 

………………….

 

Hartley isn’t surprised when her window slides open. She was waiting for it. Any longer and she would have attempted to scale the side of the Maddens’ house (and probably hurt herself and/or gotten caught).

 

       She wordlessly lifts her blankets, and Amy’s warm body slides in next to her. They both shift until they are facing each other in the dark, though they don’t touch right away. After a moment, Hartley feels a hand slip into hers, and she clutches it like a lifeline. Amy sighs shakily, like she thought Hartley might have rejected her even after letting her into her bed.

 

       “So, you were a supervillan,” Hartley says quietly. It’s been running on a loop in her head. She knew this already. It just… feels different now. After everything, after Centropolis.

 

       Amy watches her wearily, but her guard is still down and her emotions plain to see. “My family and I weren’t top ten most wanted for theft and vandalism, Hart. We- I- have hurt a lot of people. It didn’t matter if they died. And a lot of them did.” Her voice is raw and hoarse from overuse. Her screams still echo in Hartley’s ears, bleeding both pain and desperation.

 

       Hartley was powerless, so powerless, as her best friend and her family lay in the street, waiting to die.

 

       “And you want to go back?” Hartley’s voice cracks. She doesn’t understand, she doesn’t get it. Sure there were jokes, and a concerning disregard for other people, but Amy isn’t… Amy isn’t evil. Not like Onyx.

 

       Amy drops her gaze, and Hartley’s chest hurts.

 

       And then Amy softly says, “No. I- for the first time ever, I like my life. I don’t feel so… angry, all the time, anymore. But I also…”

 

       Hartley feels her hand clench. She searches her shadowed face, trying to read all the answers, and it occurs to her that Amy might not know them.

 

       “Did you ice,” Hartley asks, abruptly changing the subject.

 

       Amy blinks in surprise, eyes lifting back to Hartley’s. “Um. No.” It’s not surprising; Amy is awful at taking care of herself.

 

       Hartley slides out of bed, and Amy’s hand almost seems like it won’t let go, until it does, dropping limply to the mattress.

 

       “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” It should be an unnecessary command, but she feels like she needs to say it. That Amy might disappear if she doesn’t say it. Hartley goes slower than normal down the stairs, giving herself time to think.

 

       She knows nothing has really changed. Well, they have. They both have. Things used to be black and white for Hartley. Now she’s in love with a supervillain, who she’s sure loves her back, but that’s not worth even thinking about because everything is so complicated and painful and Amy probably won’t ever choose good (if good even actually exists), because she still has one foot in the villain world that is trying to pull her back.

 

       The thing Hartley has to figure out is if she could accept that, accept every part of Amy, Havoc included.

 

       When she comes back to the room, Amy’s cheeks glisten slightly before she lifts her hand to swipe at her face. Hartley turns on the lamp so she can take her friend’s face in fully.

 

       There is a scrape on her chin, where a blow made her go skidding across the road. The surrounding bruise has already turned motley blue across her jaw. Amy immediately tilts her face into Hartley’s hand that cups the uninjured side, eyes falling closed. She doesn’t twitch as Hartley gently lifts the ice pack to the other side of her face.

 

       As she watches her unflinching trust, it suddenly occurs to Hartley that it doesn’t matter. Havoc, Amy- her friend doesn’t suddenly take on one of those personalities. Hartley’s been separating the two in her mind, but they aren’t two different people. She is always Amy just as she’s always Havoc.

 

       So, no, it doesn’t matter what Amy chooses. Hartley knows her best friend. And whatever she chooses, that doesn’t change who Hartley knows she is (protective, soft, strong, vulnerable, jaded, loyal).

 

       “Are you hurt anywhere else?” Hartley asks, once she gets Amy to hold the ice to her face herself.

 

       “Just my stomach,” she sighs. “My powers ricocheted back at me in the escape room. It’s fine, it’s happened before. Hurts like a bitch, but it will heal.”

 

       Hartley ignores her friend’s disregard of her own pain, and lifts the front of her shirt. There is a massive bruise over the entirety of her stomach, the darkest parts almost seeming to be in a fascinating spiral pattern.

 

       Hartley doesn’t know how her friend managed to function with this, let alone do it without letting on how in pain she must have been. Even with this, she still went to Centropolis and fought.

 

       This time, when Hartley touches her, Amy twitches. Her stomach muscles jump under her lightest touch, making Hartley quickly withdraw. “This looks bad, Amy. What if you have internal bleeding or something.”

 

       “I don’t,” Amy says, amused. “I’d be in a lot more pain than this and have a lot more symptoms.”

 

       Hartley is about to snap, ‘have a lot of experience of bleeding internally, do you?’ before she clicks her teeth shut again. Because she doesn’t want to know. Because she already does know the likely answer.

 

       “Still, you shouldn’t take any blood thinners, just in case, so no pain meds for you.”

 

       Amy smiles a lopsided smile that makes Hartley’s pulse jump. “S’okay. Just you being here makes me feel better.”

 

       Hartley flushes, then quickly switches the lamp off and wiggles down the bed again. She settles into the previous positions they were in, face to face. Their hands find each other once more.

 

       Hartley feels all twisted up inside and like she wants to cry, but she’s not sure why. She just wants Amy closer. So she slowly closes the distance, sliding across the sheets, and Amy doesn’t put up any protest as Hartley leans forward to press her forehead against her collar bone.

 

       She breathes out shakily.

 

Amy is okay. They are all alive and safely back at home. The danger is gone, now. Amy is safe.

Notes:

A/N: It's the next chapter that I need to finish writing. And also probably my favorite so far. So I'm conflicted. Anyway, please let me know what you guys think. Any suggestions about what you want to see? That might get my creative inspiration going. The Hartmy is a given. Also any prompt suggestions outside of this story? I might be interested in picking something up.

~Silver~

Chapter 3: Part 3

Hartley isn’t surprised when Amy secretly uses the portal to jump back and forth from Centropolis to be villain leader. As the Maddens argued and said all the reasons why Amy couldn’t- wouldn’t be able to- do it, all she could think about was Amy screaming herself hoars and calling herself a fuck up. That sentiment was echoed by all her family members, and despite Hartley not wanting Amy to be a villain, she almost wanted to join her in proving all of them wrong.

 

       Hartley’s not a villain, though, and she’s not from that world, but she’s not surprised that Amy does it all anyway. She’s not even surprised that she lies to her about it.

 

       She knows that Amy, more than anything, just wants to prove herself. And Hartley has to just let her make her choice.

 

       Hartley knows immediately that something is wrong the next time she sees Amy. It’s the way she stands, the way she moves, the way she walks. Hartley has spent a lot of time observing her friend, learning her every tell (because she often has to read between the lines with her), and the Amy that glances over at Hartley, is not her friend. Because the most telling of all, is the way she looks at Hartley.

 

       The way she looks right through her and doesn’t seem to see her. The way her eyes hold no softness or warmth, just for her.

 

       That’s not Amy. She doesn’t know how, but she knows it intrinsically, deep in her bones. Even before she sees the glowing blue light of powers that are definitely not sonic based.

 

       She knows that Amy might hate her for it, but Hartley also remembers the last time she went to Centropolis to face off against supervillains, and she knows she’s woefully outmatched against someone with superpowers. The Maddens weren’t listening to her, and she doesn’t know anyone else who could help. So she calls Starling.

 

       Being around Starling feels different than being around Havoc. Starling feels so much larger than life, kind of unreal, and something that can’t be touched. When Hartley sees Havoc, all she can see is Amy. Someone she touches every day. Real. Someone flawed, but generally good in the end.

 

       Hartley wonders, not for the first time, if Amy is right about the heroes, right about Starling. If they only care about their image.

 

       But Starling almost got kicked out of the League because she wouldn’t give up Jake and his family. And she’s here now, because Hartley begged her to help save her best friend, a villain.

 

       Hartley glances at the hero for the dozenth time since they’ve entered the subway tunnels. “Why have you never arrested Havoc?” she can’t help blurting. “You could have a dozen times by now.”

 

       Starling shrugs, eyes resolutely ahead. The only sound in the tunnels is their footsteps and the occasional squeak of a rat. The upper world feels very far away from here. Valley View feels as far away as the last time she was down here only a couple days ago. They aren’t good memories, and her skin crawls in anxiety.

 

       “I’ve been fighting Havoc nearly since the day I got my powers. Fighting her is what I grew up doing, and all I kind of know. I never hated her like she does me... In a way, she’s kind of my only friend.”

 

       Amy had told Hartley that she was the first friend she’s ever had.

 

       She finds that very sad. That, while the hero sees Amy as something like a childhood friend, the villain hates her and, as of a couple months ago, would have gladly seen her dead. That Amy sees her mercy as hypocrisy, rather than lingering fondness. “Amy…” she searches for words, “grew up very differently than you. She doesn’t see it the same way.”

 

       “I know,” Starling murmurs. She glances at her then, searchingly. “Did you know, in our early battles, she used to win a lot? I was older, but her powers just came so naturally to her. I didn’t start getting the upper hand until I got my flight. I remember this one time, it was in our first year of being out in public and we had only fought a couple times before, she was supposed to distract me while the rest of her family finished setting up to blow an electric plant sky-high. She had me down for the count, and I couldn’t get up. She could have left me- and the security guard they knocked out earlier. But I watched her indecision, her panic, as the rest of the Mayhems fled. And then little thirteen year old Havoc dragged both of us out and hid us away before returning to her family.”

 

       Hartley’s heart beats too loudly in the echoing tunnels. She doesn’t know how to respond. This snippet of Amy’s childhood not colored by villain glasses. This snippet proof that she wasn’t always so apathetic towards others’ fates.

 

       She’s not even sure that Amy remembers it.

 

       Hartley’s whirling thoughts cut off when she recognizes the graffiti in the tunnel they are walking through, but the walls are wrong. They have giant cracks splitting through them and dust drifting down from the ceiling.

 

       The vaguely familiar archway at the end is half-crumbled. Panic leaps to Hartley’s throat again as she remembers why they are down here. “Amy!” she shouts, darting forward and through, uncaring that she has to climb over fallen slabs as large as her body.

 

       To her relief, Amy, though her voice is scared, calls back.

 

………………

 

Amy reacts better than Hartley thought she would. There are still the biting words and defensive posturing, but when it comes down to it, she accepts the help.

 

       And when they team up, it looks like a dance. It must come from years of fighting each other and being very intimate with each other’s powers, because they anticipate each others’ movements more as if they’ve been fighting together, rather than against, all those years.

 

       It feels like another turning point when Amy reluctantly thanks Starling. There… isn’t as much anger in her anymore when she looks at the hero.

 

……………….

 

Hartley jerks her hand back when the door is yanked open before she can touch it. Amy blinks, surprised on the other side, before she continues in her forward movement and pulls the door shut behind her. She looks more like she’s making an escape rather than just leaving her house.

 

       “Nope,” she says, snatching her wrist and tugging Hartley along after her, “can’t hang out here for a while. Mom is not in a good mood right now.”

 

       “What?” Hartley asks, and then immediately looks harder at her friend as she speedwalks them farther away from the house. It is an escape.

 

       The hand not holding onto Hartley keeps clenching and unclenching before touching her thumb to each fingertip. Amy’s whole arm seems to involuntarily jerk every couple steps, and Hartley yanks them both off the sidewalk into some bushes.

 

       Amy stumbles, looking at her curiously, before she starts squirming and looking uncomfortable as Hartley yanks on the collar of her shirt. She undoubtedly stretches it as she looks for the marks she knows will be there.

 

       “Hart, I’m fine- Hart,” she complains as Hartley finds the burn zigzagging from shoulder to collar and slightly down her back. Some of it is wet and blistering, sticking to her shirt.

 

       Hartley grabs Amy’s uninjured arm and yanks her back on the path back the way they came.

 

       Amy sighs exasperatedly. “Hartley, I’m fine . It was just a small zap.”

 

       “Small doesn’t leave burns,” Hartley snaps, yanking her up the path to her own house and pulling her through the front door. “We’ll be upstairs, grandma,” Hartley calls to her grandmother as she hauls her friend up the stairs she normally avoids taking.

 

       “Fuck,” Amy curses as she trips on a step, and Hartley finally slows a bit so she can gain her feet. Then she pulls her into the bathroom and shuts the door behind her as she reaches for the first aid kit under the sink.

 

       Amy sighs and obediently removes her shirt before Hartley can ask, boosting herself up onto the sink. “You really need to get over this. It’s not a big deal.”

 

       “It is, and I hate that you think that,” Hartley replies. As she unscrews the cap to the burn cream, her eyes take in all the other scars on her friend. Not all of them are from her family. Some are from the heroes. Some are from other villains. Still, she hates that any of them come from her family.

 

       Eva’s electricity leaves the most obvious scars, taking on a path like a lightning strike. Amy’s skin is like a patchwork of it. Almost artful.

 

       Her muscles keep jumping under Hartley’s hand as she spreads the medicine. Amy’s pulse is erratic and keeps skipping beats. She huffs and darts her eyes away as Hartley glances up. “It’ll stop in a couple hours,” Amy excuses. She touches her fingers together again one by one. She does it absently. Rhythmically. Habitually.

 

       Hartley hates it. She hates everything about this- Amy’s calm, Amy’s dismissal, Amy’s routinely habits to reassure herself that she can still feel her fingers, and Amy knowing from experience how long it will take for after-effects to fade.

 

       “Amy, I swear to god, if your parents hurt you one more time, I’m telling your villain secret,” Hartley hisses.

 

       “Liar,” Amy says fondly, watching her carefully smoothing down the tape holding gauze to the wound.

 

       While Amy watches Hartley’s fingers, Hartley watches Amy’s expression and the complete detachment she has for the injury. Out of all the emotions this situation should warrant, she mostly just seems embarrassed and resigned to being fussed over again.

 

       Hartley wants her to care- to see how wrong it is and not be something she just accepts. It’s something to be sad about, to mourn. She is sad and mourning for her friend’s experiences. Impulsively, Hartley leans forward and brushes a kiss on Amy’s shoulder just above the gauze. 

 

       Amy’s entire body flinches, as if she just received another bolt of electricity, while she turns wide set eyes on Hartley. Hartley swallows and hands Amy her shirt back.

 

       Amy reflexively takes it, but only holds it loosely in one hand as she stares. After a moment, her eyes drop to Hartley’s lips, making Hartley’s heart jolt as if it’s suffering the after effects of electric shock, too.

 

       She inhales sharply and takes a step back, busying herself with organizing the first aid kit and putting it back where it belongs.

 

       Hartley clears her throat as she straightens, saying, “So, what has your mom so-” she feels two hands fist in the front of her sweater, and then she’s being tugged forward until her hips collide with the sink and Amy’s lips stop her words, her thoughts, her heart (for a moment). The world itself comes to a screeching halt with the soft mouth that gently claims hers.

 

       After but a moment, an eternity, Amy slowly draws back, and Hartley realizes her eyes have fallen shut. They fly open again, and her heart ratchets up, and she doesn’t know what to do- what to say . She’s just been ignoring this thing between them up till now, but there’s no ignoring it after this. Her eyes can’t seem to look away from those soft lips that had just been on her own.

 

       She’s never kissed a girl before. She’s barely kissed anyone before.

 

       It’s a force of will that she drags her eyes away, down to her hands that had landed on Amy’s thighs for balance when she’d been tugged forward.

 

       “Um,” she draws her hands back toward her own body, feeling burned. She hadn’t wanted this. There was a reason, wasn’t there? She finds it hard to recall with the lingering sensation of Amy’s lips against hers. She needs to think. Think, think, think- she was woefully unprepared for things to suddenly change. She needs to say something. Anything. “Why is your mom angry right now?”

 

       Not that.

 

       Amy’s hands gripping the front of her sweater loosens, and then she’s drawing away. Hartley can see, from the corner of her eye, how her friend’s entire body stiffens for the first time since she locked them in the bathroom.

 

       “H-Hart?” Amy asks in a voice that Hartley’s never heard before. It drags her head back up to stare at the expression on her face. It’s a vulnerable, crumbling, expression, one that Hartley caused, one that Hartley never wanted to cause, but she needs to think- she doesn’t have time to think. She needs to respond, to respond better.

 

       She doesn't think that they're ready. But she can’t just ignore this now that Amy's actually done something to express her feelings in a way that really can't be misinterpreted for either of them.

 

       So Hartley steps forward. She stops thinking and just lets herself react, reaching out to cup Amy’s face. Amy doesn’t flinch back. She tilts her head into Hartley’s palm, and Hartley tugs her face back toward her.

 

       She kisses her again. She kisses her friend several times, short ones and lingering ones, until Amy’s hands are curling back in the front of her shirt and it gets hard to breathe.

 

       Only then does she withdraw again and observe the way Amy almost tries to follow her off the counter. “Okay?” she asks when Amy’s eyes finally flutter back open to meet her.

 

       Hartley doesn’t know what she’s asking. But she asks, and maybe Amy understands, because she softens and agrees, “Okay.”

 

       So Hartley opens the bathroom door and tugs her- something- out by her hand. She still wants an answer about what set Eva off.

 

………………

 

Weirdly, very little changes between them. They don’t talk about it, and maybe Hartley should be demonstrating good healthy relationships by sitting them down and talking about it, but she doesn’t want this to be a morality lesson. She wants to just… let whatever this is develop on its own.

 

       So, for the moment, Hartley is okay not hashing everything out right from the start. The only thing that changes is that now, sometimes, Amy will dart forward and kiss Hartley. In the hallway before they part, when they are laying beside each other in one of their rooms, randomly when they are just walking hand in hand down the street.

 

       She doesn’t ever do it in front of her family, though, even though her brothers must have heard the rumors from school. She’s only just stopped yanking her hand away whenever one of them appears.

 

       Amy seems to be opening up a whole lot more in general. Maybe not with everyone, but some people is loads better than just Hartley.

 

       It’s Milo, weirdly enough, that seems to be the first person outside her family and Hartley that Amy becomes attached to. It’s a very strange and unlikely friendship, but Amy’s affection for him is undoubtedly genuine. She becomes almost as protective of him as she is Hartley, and Hartley can’t help but find that adorable.

 

       And a relief- that Amy is actually able to make somewhat normal connections.

 

       Hartley feels disappointed, though, when Milo asks Amy to the dance. Hartley had kind of assumed, and expected, that they’d go together. But, well, it’s fine. These are the kinds of things that happen when they don’t talk about things. Even though Milo knows- everyone knows- that Hartley and Amy are kind of a thing. But it’s fine.

 

       Hartley just throws herself into party planning instead. Even if Amy looks gorgeous in a suit. Even if she keeps getting distracted watching her, and Jake keeps replacing her decorations.

 

       She’s standing against a wall now, arms folded and looking utterly, miserably, bored.

 

       Now that she’s made a truce with Jake, there’s nothing to distract her from Amy’s cloudy presence, and she goes to her with a wide smile. “Want to dance?”

 

       She’s not surprised when Amy looks at her with a dry expression and says, “I would rather have another octopus fall on my head.” But then she’s sighing and grabbing Hartley's wrist and stepping to the very edge of the dance floor.

 

       “Are you at least enjoying yourself a little,” Hartley asks as Amy hesitantly grasps her waist, looking at the other couples on the dance floor to see how they are doing it. Hartley easily loops her arms around her neck.

 

       “Not really,” Amy says. “You know I only came for Milo.”

 

       “Yeah, that was very sweet of you,” Hartley says, watching amusedly as Amy grimaces and glares at her halfheartedly. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. I was hoping we’d go together, but one dance is more than I was expecting at all.”

 

       Amy huffs, rolling her eyes. “We can dance at home, if you really wanted. I’d even dress up, and you can put out a punch bowl. I just don’t get all the pomp and excitement of coming to school on a day off, packing into a smelly gym, and having to navigate around the judgements of classmates you don’t even ever talk to.”

 

       “I guess that makes sense,” Hartley says, feeling herself soften and fall a little more in love with her friend. She’s being surprisingly sweet again. “And,” she hums, moving one of her hands from Amy’s shoulder to fiddle with the flower around her neck as they sway out of sync to the music, “does that mean if I asked you on a real date, you’d say yes?”

 

       Amy tugs Hartley forward by the waist and tilts her head as she kisses her. Hartley’s brain goes static as her eyes fall closed and she leans into the gentle press of lips. A tingle goes down her spine, leaving a trail of goose bumps across her whole body that has her softly aching for more.

 

………………..

 

It should come as no surprise to anyone to learn that Hartley used to have a thing for Starling. She had posters and bedsheets and knew all there was to be known about her favorite hero from all the fan sites. She can admit she was a bit obsessive, but who doesn’t get obsessive crushes on complete strangers they probably would never meet.

 

       But she does end up meeting her, because she befriends her favorite hero’s sworn enemy. Even more strangely, she falls in love with that sworn enemy. It’s kind of hilarious when she thinks about it.

 

       She meets her celebrity crush because she starts dating her worst rival. Obviously, she’s gotten over it. She is firmly on Team Havoc’s side. Not that there’s exactly a rivalry anymore now that Amy has retired and they are mostly neutral when they see each other (what has her life become when it’s no longer a marvel when the random superhero drops by and she’s no longer shocked speechless).

 

       In fact, Amy is practically downright friendly (for her). She makes a show of being borderline hostile, but when it actually counts, she tries to help. She does help. It sends Hartley’s pulse racing at seeing, so clearly, the way her girlfriend has changed since arriving in Valley View. Her guard still exists, but it’s all but fallen. More and more, she lets her normally hidden kindness show.

 

       When Starling leaves, all she can think about is how much she wants to kiss her girlfriend senseless. But Amy makes a comment about how weirdly quiet the house is, and has been for hours, and a strange paranoia prickles through them. It prickles through Hartley, too, because the Maddens are never quiet, and they’re never not home, so they must be getting up to something.

 

       Amy leads the way down into the lair, relaxing as she spots her family all slumped about and looking as if they had been hit by Mrs. Madden’s car a couple dozen times (like Hartley’s bike, she thinks only a bit bitterly).

 

       But then Jake presses a button and Amy’s body jerks, taking on a familiar bracing position as an echoing, supernatural scream rips from her throat. Her hands slap over her mouth as soon as it cuts off, eyes wide in shock and a brief flash of fear.

 

       Then Hartley sees that familiar deadened look of resignation fall across her friend's face as the rest of the Maddens creep closer, and Hartley can’t hold her tongue. Can’t sit back and just watch as they control her. “Stop it!” she bursts, pushing forward and shoving Amy behind her, “Just stop it! Stop hurting her, stop using her! Your kids aren’t objects for you to control and do whatever you want with. This isn’t okay!”

 

       “Oh, come on, Hartley, lighten up. We’re just spreading the love. Colby and I already got to play, it’s only fair that it’s her turn,” Jake says.

 

       “ No !” Hartley says firm, snatching the controller out of his hands. “It’s not fair! Just because it was done to you, does not mean you get to do it to someone else. You should know this; I thought you were trying to be a better person?”

 

       Jake sputters, looking around at his family. “But that’s- I mean- but it’s Amy!” he gestures sharply to Hartley’s girlfriend, who is standing silent behind her. “I mean, of course I wouldn’t do it to anyone else, but she’s not anyone else.”

 

       “Yeah, she’s your sister! Even more reason for you to want to not hurt her!” It’s gratifying seeing the look of discomfort on his face, but then Mr. Madden breaks the moment of tension.

 

       “Oh no, Hartley’s about to throw more parenting books at us,” Vic mocks quietly, hands up and doing a little dance as he rolls his eyes. Hartley’s stomach twists in offense and frustration as Vic straightens with an eyeroll. “Amy, get your friend and explain to her that we’re villains . And if she’s just going to spoil our fun, she won’t be welcome in our home.”

 

       “Hartley,” Amy sighs, curling her fingers around her arm, “it’s-”

 

       “I’d like to see you try,” Hartley growls, twisting to face him instead of Jake. “I like you, and at this point I might not tell your villain secret, but I’ll 100% report you for child abuse.”

 

       “ Hartley- ”

 

       “Child abuse,” he scoffs, ignoring his wife who slowly wraps her hand around his arm as if to pull him back.

 

       “I wonder how many scars they’ll find on your kids during their investigation,” Hartley challenges, not backing down. Not this time. She’s done sitting silent and cleaning up the wounds in the aftermath.

 

       Before either of the Madden adults can respond, or before Hartley can continue tearing into them (she has a lot more to say that she’s been biting her tongue about), Amy pulls her backward.

 

       “Okay. I think you said your piece,” she mutters to her, dragging her back up the basement steps. “We’re just going to go.”

 

       Hartley’s stomach, and the indignant fire fueling her, plummets as they make it to the top of the stairs and Amy doesn’t look back at her or say anything further. She tugs Hartley through the living room and up the stairs to her room, closing the door very gently behind her.

 

       Her throat closes at the thought of her girlfriend being upset with her, and thinking she overstepped, but she didn’t . She knows she didn’t. But she knows how protective Amy is of her family, and Hartley just threatened that in all genuineness. 

 

       “Amy, I’m-“ The instinctive apology gets stuck in her throat. She’s not sorry. She meant it. She still means it. She doesn’t care how upset her girlfriend is with her, she’d do it again.

 

       Amy turns, and Hartley can’t quite read the expression on her face as she reaches toward her, but she doesn’t need to. Because Amy pulls her forward and kisses her roughly. She gets the idea fairly quickly.

 

       Hartley catches herself on Amy’s hips, accidentally driving her back a step. Their momentum stops as Amy’s back hits the door.

 

       Amy tugs her with her, angling her head and biting at Hartley’s lips. “You’re so fucking amazing,” Amy gasps between kisses, each one turning filthier than the last. Hartley kind of forgets her own name. She remembers Amy’s, though. She murmurs it reverently when a mouth eagerly works its way down her neck.

 

       “You’re… you’re not mad?” Hartley asks, brain working slow and trying to hold onto any tangible thought.

 

       Amy hums a negative. “It was kind of hot, the way you told my family off like that.”

 

       “Yeah?” Hartley asks breathlessly, twisting her head and trying to connect their lips again. All the blood in her body hums to the point that every contact, every brush of skin, sends tingles along her nerves.

 

       “Uh huh,” she nods, bumping their noses. Her hands slide from Hartley’s hair, down her front until they reach her clenching stomach, and then to her back where she grasps onto her. They are so close that they share breath, and she can feel every inhale of her girlfriend’s chest pushing against hers. “Do you, um. Want to take this to the bed?”

 

       Hartley’s breath catches, heart thudding hard in her chest and making it hard to put together a string of words. She manages, though, with a longing regret already slinking through her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

 

       “Alright,” Amy responds easily, voice turning soft.

 

       As she leans back, thumping her head lightly against the door, Hartley reluctantly cracks her eyes open to make sure she hadn’t inadvertently hurt her girlfriend’s feelings. She didn’t need to worry, though. Her entire body floods with warmth and emotion from the raw affection Amy is already looking at her with, eyes lidded and face slightly flushed.

 

       Hartley leans forward and grazes their lips together in a much softer, sweeter kiss. “I love you, Amy,” she says.

 

       “I know,” Amy whispers, eyelids fluttering as she tilts her chin up. “Thank you,” she sighs against her lips.

Notes:

A/N: Eh, maybe it's because I read it too many times until it just looked stupid to me, but I'm not too fond of this chapter anymore. Oh well, at least I'm finally posting it so I can stop thinking about it. Please let me know what you guys think!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 5 of My villainous collective