A Hero’s Heart

Why do I deserve to live? Why was I, out of the billions of people on Earth, the one who had to live? I should be grateful for another day on Earth, but I'm not. It should have been him. It should have been my brother. 

Ever since I was a boy, he was always better than me. Faster, stronger, smarter, you name it, that was him. Despite all his advantages, he never looked down on me. He treated me like an equal, despite me being anything close. Always kind and caring to everyone he met, my brother's love knew no bounds. He was born to be a hero and that is exactly what he was.

I still remember when he got the call that he would be joining Hero's Inc. He was doing cartwheels through the house, flinging mud from his boots everywhere. Mom and Dad were ecstatic too, not even bothering to chastise him for the mess he made. They still made him clean it up, but he did it with a shit licking grin on his face. No one was more proud of him than me though. He had sacrificed so many times in school to help me out, I was glad he finally got something for himself for a change. My brother was always a happy guy, but he was practically floating when the good news came. Too bad it wasn't all good news.

I drove him down to the doctor the next day. They needed a physical from him to ensure he was up to the rigors of being a hero. It was required for anyone under eighteen. When we got there they wanted to check me too. I declined at first, but they said it was all paid for and more thorough than any hospital could provide. Hard to pass up a free check-up from the best doctors in the city.

Roger went in and came back with a clean bill of health. They even told him he possessed powers he didn't know he had. He had the ability to fly and his heart was literally indestructible. My diagnosis was far less cheerful. The doctors had a fancy term for it, but my heart was weaker than most. It was the reason I felt tired all the time and had trouble keeping up in gym class. I figured I was just out of shape. Problem was you can't live with a bum ticker forever. They gave me a few years to live, max.

It never really hit me that I was dying until after we got home and told our parents the news. Hero's Inc. offered to pay for any medical bills, but that still didn't make facing oblivion easier. My parents thought we could fight it and were getting names of the best doctors in the world. They weren't better than what Hero's Inc was offering. I knew my time was coming to a close.

Fast toward a year, my brother was a full fledged crime fighter. I would watch him on the television on nights he couldn't make it home for supper, learning about the new heroic act he did. It gave me hope that if other people can be saved from certain death, maybe there was a chance for me. One day he came home, making his usual aerial landing on the deck outside. It never got old watching my brother in his full superhero getup come home just to have dinner. 

"Hey Rodge, how did the crime fighting go today?" I asked, still sitting on the couch near the TV as he slid open the glass door.

"Those villains are gonna have to step up their game. Cause I'm only getting better," Roger said, flexing his muscles in his tan unitard. "How's my favorite bro doing?"

"Better than that guy you thrashed on the news yesterday."

"That was mostly Georgeanna. I just added a kick for good measure."

"Speaking of Georgeanna, are you two...you know?"

"Friends?"

"More than friends?" I winked at him.

Roger let a smile grow across face. "We haven't made anything official, but…"

"Doesn't need to be. I see how she looks at you during interviews."

"Who is looking at my boy?" Mom said, coming in from the kitchen. She gave Roger a hug like he had just come back from war.

"Not so tight, Mom. You'll hurt yourself," Roger said.

"So, who is this little lady?"

"Georgeanna," I said.

"Oh, that cute thing. It is about time. When are you bringing her over?" Mom asked.

"One step at a time, Mom," Roger said before his gauntlet rang. "One sec."

Roger held his finger to his ear and nodded along with whoever was talking to him. It was a quick conversation, not lasting any longer than thirty seconds.

"That was work. There is a runaway semi on the outskirts of town. Turn the channel," Roger said to me.

I switched to channel twelve and sure enough there was a helicopter camera watching a red semi truck barrel down the road. Roger turned around and went back on the deck.

"But we are about to eat," Mom said.

"Then it will be a speedrun. I'll be back before dinner."

Roger gave me his classic finger gun salute and he blasted off into the sky. Mom and I turned our attention to the TV, excited to see him live. The news anchor kept giving a play by play, but I tuned it out, waiting eagerly to see Roger. I didn't have to wait long and he came flying into view with his blue cape dragging behind him. He flew alongside the semi trailer and up to the front of the vehicle. Roger put his hands on the grill of the semi and looked like he was straining all his muscles at once. The vehicle was slowing down.

"He's doing it!" I yelled in excitement.

It looked like he was going to be right about making it home for dinner. That was until another semi truck came from the other side. Instead of staying in its lane, it moved into the other lane, crashing head on into the other semi. They collided with the force of two planets, separating metal from vehicles and their containers exploded into two massive fireballs. I watched in horror as my brother was at the epicenter of it all. There were no words as we both watched in silence, praying he came out unscathed. 

Georgeanna came flying in as the smoke bellowed, making a beeline to the middle of the wreckage. Her pink cape and white unitard stood out from the black smoke. She moved aside some debris and pulled out Roger...or what was left of him. His limbs were all gone, leaving a scorched torso and head. He was limp in her arms as she carried him out of the wreckage. She collapsed, crying into his body before the feed cut.

"No!" I said, throwing the remote at the TV. We both scrambled to the car and sped off toward town. Our car was not fast enough and we got a call that he had been taken to the hospital. He was still alive. Mom and I were relieved by the news, but it was not going to last.

When we got there, Georgianna was by his side, her eyes and face were red. There was a spider web of tubes and needles that stuck wherever they could into him. He looked more like an unfinished mad scientist experiment than a man, unrecognizable with all the burns and missing limbs. Metal was still embedded in his eyes and throat, begging to be pulled out. Mom broke down in tears while I stared forward at him. He was my brother. He was supposed to outlive me, not the other way around.

We kept him on life support for a week before the doctors told us the bad news. He was going to die. There was nothing they could do and he did not have any abnormal healing properties. The only reason he was still alive was because his heart was still intact. Heck, they showed us the x-rays where a piece of metal literally bent inside his body and pierced his lung because his heart deflected it. That wasn't all they told us.

"Your brother had in his advanced healthcare directive that in the event he cannot live a normal life, that his heart goes to you," Doctor Sanders said as I sat in his small office.

"What?"

"We know this is a lot to take in Mr. Canters. But we need to act fast in order for a transplant to be viable."

"I can't kill my brother!"

"For all intents and purposes, he is dead. We expect his brain to die in the next few hours."

I shot up to my feet. "I won't do it!"

"His heart is unique. If you don't take it, it will go to waste. You know your brother would want you to have his heart."

I couldn't argue that. He always told me he would give me his heart if he could. I just didn't want to take it. Unfortunately, my body didn't give me a choice in the matter. My chest felt tight and I collapsed to the floor. I could feel it beating, but it was struggling. That was all I remember before I passed out. The next moment I woke up, I had stitches along my chest and I knew the decision was made for me. My brother was dead. I cried that day until I fell asleep. He was gone and I was here. This was not how it was supposed to be.

Now today, I'm sitting in my bed writing this in the hopes I find some kind of closure. I'm not sure if I will ever find it, but my brother would want me to try. So this is me...trying. I have the heart of a real hero in my body, so I better start acting like it. Tomorrow is my first day at Hero's Inc. I'm going to make you proud Rodge. I promise.

***

A Letter to Cassie

Dear Cassie,

Today did not go well. I thought since Dad had broken out of prison again and Mom was on leave for 'accidentally' throwing a villain through the Mayor's office, that it would be nice to invite them both over for dinner. Mom wouldn't try to capture Dad and I would distract Dad with my famous spaghetti. It was a recipe for a successful dinner...or so I thought.

"Why is he here?" Mom asked. 

Dad was sitting at my little oak table, munching away on a breadstick. He didn't pay her any mind, enjoying the warm bread in his grubby fingers.

"Mom, I invited him,” I said, pouring out the excess water into the strainer.

"You do know he is supposed to be in prison right now," Mom said, taking off her purple jacket. 

"Shhh. Don't tell anyone," Dad said, reaching over for another breadstick. 

"I don't care. I just wanted us to have a nice family dinner like we used to," I said. 

Dad leaning back in his chair. "Claire is right. It has been awhile."

"That's because—" Mom said before I grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her into my kitchen. 

"Mom, why don't you put on the food."

Mom raised her eyebrows at me but I didn't back down. She knew I wanted this to work and it wasn't going to work if she was going to keep trying to fight with Dad. I grabbed the saucepan off the burner that was loaded with some hefty meatballs. That sauce was either going on the food or her. It was up to her. 

She chose correctly and took the spaghetti over to the table. I was so excited that we were finally sitting down for a real meal for a change. Mom started dealing out the spaghetti, but couldn't resist trying to rile Dad up. 

"So Robert, what have you been up to lately?" Mom asked, knowing whatever he said was going to make him look bad in front of me. 

"You should know. You are my biggest fan," Dad said, pointing his fork at her. 

"I didn't lock you up." Mom plopped a huge helping on Dad's plate. "This time."

"I noticed. That's why I had to break out," Dad said and moved closer to Mom. "Did you know they don't even offer conjugal visits?"

Mom splashed the sauce on his pasta. "Not like you were going to get any."

"Why don't we change the subject? I just got a new job," I said, not wanting it to escalate any further. 

"That is wonderful! Where are you working now?" Dad asked.

"I am working at Hendrick Drinks. I just started as their logistics manager last week."

"Logistics. I knew you were a smart cookie." Dad was smiling ear to ear. Mom however was not as pleased. 

"Hendricks Drinks. I was hoping you would aim for something bigger," Mom said. 

"They are the fifth largest in the city. And with my help, they could be the best."

"That's my girl!" Dad said, being the only one supporting me. 

Mom didn't continue, choosing to eat her meal instead. It was odd that she wasn't proud of me. Sure, it wasn't like being a superhero, but it was a good promotion for me. I dropped it and we ate our meal in relative silence before Mom felt guilty enough to say something nice. 

"These meatballs are the best I have ever had," Mom said.

"I remember you saying that about mine once upon a time," Dad remarked with a sinister grin.

"Since when did you cook?" I asked, wondering how I never knew this. 

"Your father is a pig. He has never cooked a day in his life," Mom said and Dad laughed. 

I felt pretty ill after that. Resisting the urge not to puke on the table became a heroic task. Whatever possessed Dad to say that was beyond me.

"I don't recall those being the words you used. It was something like—"

"Please don't finish that sentence," I begged.

"Look what you did, you grossed out our daughter," Mom said.

"Sorry Claire. I forget who I am around sometimes," Dad said. 

"Yeah, a bunch of low life scum." 

"Not all of them."

"All of them."

"Would you say that about me?"

"Without hesitation."

Dad stood up from the table and Mom matched him. They both stared at each other like two gunslingers ready for a duel. If I didn't do something, all my work was going to be for nothing. 

"Please, Dad. She didn't mean that," I said.

Mom didn't break eye contact with Dad. "Yes, I did."

"You really think that lowly of me?" Dad asked. 

"Lower."

"Tell me how you really feel," Dad said, raising his voice. "Come on!"

"You might as well pulled the trigger that night."

"I tried to stop him."

"You just called the police. You could have done something."

"I am doing something now!"

"Killing murders doesn't make up for that."

"And what does? Throwing them in jail. If I'm any indication, that doesn't work. You need to put them in the ground."

"Maybe I should?" Mom questioned to herself. 

"Come on then. Try it on for size!" Dad egging her on. 

The next second I know, Mom tackled Dad out of the window. They pummeled each other in my front yard until they were both blue in the face and collapsed next to each other. The police came and it was a whole scene. They took Dad back to jail and Mom left without even offering to clean up. I just wanted one day where our family was all back together, but ever since we lost you that hasn't been the case. We have all been coping in our own way, but it feels like when you died, so did Mom and Dad. I guess what I'm saying is...I miss our parents. I miss you. Please watch over them and if you have any pull up there with the big man himself, let him know I could use some help. I don't want to lose them too.

Until we meet again.

Your Loving Sister,

Claire

***

Consequences of Begging

"Please don't kill me. I slept with your wife!" Kahleed cried in desperation.

Anchor Face lowered his pistol, taken aback by such a strange claim. Especially for being what would have been his last words.

"Come again?"

"I slept with your wife. Don't kill me!"

Anchor Face shook his anvil shaped head. "Wait. You think I would spare you for sleeping with my wife?"

Kahleed nodded. Tears ran down his bloody cheeks onto the asphalt under him while he watched Anchor Face scratch the flat top of his head.

"What is wrong with you? I would have shot you by now if that were true," Anchor Face said.

"But I did."

"No, you didn't."

"I can assure you I did."

"Well, I'm telling you, you didn't," Anchor Face said, putting his hands on his hip. 

"Call her up."

"I can't do that."

"Why? Because you don't want to hear the truth?"

"Because I don't have a wife, dipshit."

Kahleed's eyes got big, realizing that not only was he telling the truth, but the woman he slept with was another villain's wife.

"Oh god...I didn't…"

"Whose wife did you sleep with? Now I'm genuinely curious," Anchor Face said with a smirk.

Kahleed inched forward and grabbed onto Anchor Face's jeans, tugging on him like a child. "Please kill me!"

"What?"

"Please kill me!" Kahleed said, reaching for the pistol.

Anchor Face lifted the pistol above his own head so Kahleed couldn't get to it. Kahleed clawed at him, but was swiftly kicked back onto the ground. Anchor Face stood above him laughing at the newfound desperation Kahleed had. 

"First, you want me to spare you, now you want me to kill you. You are a strange one, you know that?"

"Kill me. Before he finds outs!" Kahleed begged.

"Who is he?"

"Please!"

"You tell me who and I'll kill you. Fair?"

"It was Pharaoh's wife."

Anchor Face laughed. "Which one?"

"Talib."

"Ah, you like them on the curvy side I see."

"I told you, now please. Do it!"

Anchor Face holstered his weapon and took out his phone. He pointed the phone camera at Kahleed and snapped a picture. The flash of light caused Kahleed to blink. 

"What are you doing? We had a deal!" Kahleed said. 

"I will let Pharaoh decide your fate."

"No! Don't!" Kahleed yelled as Anchor Face's phone chimed.

"Well look at that. He is a really fast texter. He says he wants to meet the man who defiled his—" Anchor Face said, before snorting.

"What's so funny?"

"That wasn't his wife. That was his daughter. I'll say that one surprised me too."

"I beg of you. Don't take me back there. My fate will be worse than death."

"Don't worry I would never actually take you back there."

Kahleed sighed. "Thank you."

"He is coming here to pick you up. Personally."

Kahleed sprung up from his knees, lunging at Anchor Face. This was his last opportunity if he was going to avoid the torture Pharaoh had in store for him. Unfortunately, Anchor Face was faster, slamming his head into Kahleed's. Kahleed learned firsthand how he got that moniker, even though Anvil Face would have been a more accurate name given the shape of his head. Kahleed's head was spinning as he laid on the asphalt face first. 

Kahleed's vision was blurred and a white limousine came screeching around the corner. He had no more fight left in him, but it didn't help that Anchor Face stepped on him and struck a pose worthy of Supervillain Quarterly Magazine. The limousine stopped next to him and three men came rushing out in tactical gear, lifting him into the vehicle. 

"Best of luck, Kahleed! You're going to need it!" Anchor Face said, waving to him before the doors closed and the vehicle sped away. 

Inside the spacious, yet smokey cab, were three long white seats. Two along the sides and one at the end. The men threw him on the right side and sat down on the one across from him, with their rifles at the ready. Sitting at the end was a large man in a white and gold suit smoking a cigar.

"Please...I beg your mercy," Kahleed said weakly.

"So, you're the spineless man who lied with my daughter?" Pharaoh said.

"I—didn't know."

"If you did, you wouldn't have?"

Kahleed closed his eyes. This conversation was getting more tiring by the second. His energy was leaving him fast. A sharp pain went through his ribs, jolting him back to the conversation. 

"My men will keep beating you if you can't stay awake Kahleed."

Kahleed nodded. "Alright. What is my punishment? Just get it over with."

"To marry my daughter," Pharaoh said, puffing on his cigar.

Kahleed blinked a few times and tried to sit up in his seat. "You're not going to torture me?"

"You can thank Talib for that. If I had it my way, I would cut off everything attached to your torso. One by one until you were nothing more than the black knight in that Month Python film."

Kahleed righted himself in his seat and wore a weak smile. "So, when is the wedding?"

"One week. And now that you are joining the family. That also means the family business."

"Are you giving me a job offer?"

"Not an offer. You work for me now. Your connections with Hero's Inc. will be useful."

"I can't betray my fellow heroes."

"I'm not asking you to kill them. I need a spy. Someone to help me find safe routes to run my product. If it makes you feel better, you would be like my personal fuzzbuster. And last I checked, fuzzbusters aren't illegal."

Kahleed pondered his options. He knew what awaited him if he were to refuse. And what he was offering was generous. Talib was a special woman and the fact that she cared about him enough to spare his life confirmed his suspicions about their relationship. It was some light spying. No one would get hurt.

"I'll give you routes of safe passage, but I will not give away the heroes' exact locations."

"That is all I ask. Besides, the last thing I want is my son-in-law in the prison system." Pharaoh smirked.

The vehicle sped down the street to a bridge that left the city. They went out to the countryside where one of Pharaoh's mansions was. Static took over the earpiece of a man in a yellow jumpsuit that was perched on top of a building overlooking the bridge. His phone was on speaker laying on the ground next to him. He was prone, watching through his rifle scope as the limousine drove away.

"What is the status?" a voice said on the phone.

"Kahleed is working for Pharaoh. Kahleed is marrying Pharaoh's daughter and in exchange he will spy on Hero's Inc. Do you want me to take them out?" the man asked, flicking off the safety.

"No need. Let me know when Kahleed has his first kid. That will be a more appropriate time to leverage him. For now, monitor Pharaoh's movements for the next few months. No reason we can't both benefit from that information."

***

The limousine doors opened to a courtyard lit by tiki torches. Kahleed was carried out by the three men in tactical gear. His feet dragged, creating shallow rows in the gravel below. Rushing to him was a plumpish woman wearing a seafoam green dress with white trim. Her brown hair was tied back in a bun and wore a worried expression on her face.

"Kahleed! What happened?" Talib asked Kahleed, putting her hands on his damaged face. At the same time, Pharaoh disembarked from the limousine, drawing her ire. "What did you do to him!"

"This wasn't me sweetheart. I can promise you that," Pharaoh responded.

"Sure, it wasn't you. Just one of your lackeys!" Talib barked at him.

"Anchor Face is not one of my men. I have no control over what he does."

"Typical excuse father. Always blaming everything on Jaster."

"You don't know what you're talking about. As always."

Kahleed tried to speak, but only let out a hoarse cough. Talib ignored her father's insult, inspecting her poor man. His dark hair was frazzled and the glow from his blue eyes were weary. Her heart broke seeing him this way. 

"Don't worry Kahleed. I'm here. You're safe now," Talib said and looked over to one of the men holding him up. "Get him up to my room at once!"

Without hesitation, the men took him away into the large mansion that overlooked the courtyard like a judging god. Talib turned her attention back to her father, who was smothering his cigar with his heel. 

"He will not be staying in your room," Pharaoh stated as a matter of fact. 

"He will stay wherever I say he does."

"I will not have my daughter laying with someone who is not her husband."

"Too late. Or did you already forget he fucked me good? And not just once, might I add," Talib said, recalling a particularly steamy time.

Pharaoh's heel dug deeper into the gravel, crushing the discarded cigar into paste. His eyes burned with fury and knuckles cracked. At first he was satisfied with his arrangement, but hearing how his daughter casually described losing her virginity to Kahleed made him want to run up the stairs and finish what Anchor Face started. 

"I may not have beaten Kahleed to a pulp, but I sure as hell spared his life! He will not be sharing your bed until you're married. Do I make myself clear?"

Talib stood her ground. "What does it matter if we are getting married anyhow?"

"It matters to me. Not in my house."

"Fine. But he is staying in my bed. He is in no condition to get frisky anyways," Talib said, turning her heel in the gravel to walk away.

Pharaoh watched his daughter leave his presence. His fury had subsided, even with her last little comment. Searching his pockets, he retrieved another cigar and lit it. The smoke swirled in the air, seemingly dancing with the clouds above. 

"This is the thanks I get," he said to himself. "Maybe I'll be more popular with the grandkids."

***

Talib knocked on the door before she entered her room. "Kahleed, it's me."

Kahleed was tucked into her bed and the moon was watching over him through the window. He blinked open his eyes and flashed her a weak smile. His face stung when his cheeks rose, but it was worth it to see her smile back.

"Talib," Kahleed said.

She glided over to him, sitting down on her plain red sheets. "Kahleed, how are you feeling?"

"Better now that you are here," he said, pulling his arm out of the comfort of the sheets to touch her smooth face.

"What happened?"

"Anchor Face caught me by surprise."

Talib frowned. "No one catches you by surprise."

"You did. That night. At the party," he said, caressing her thighs.

"Your flattery isn't getting you out of this. You need to be honest with me."

"Okay fine. I thought you were married."

"Not about that. About what happened...wait. You thought I was married?"

"I thought so. All that sneaking around. Not wanting to get caught. I figured a husband was in the picture."

"And you still did it anyway?"

"I love who I love. I won't apologize for that."

Talib beamed with pride. A man who knew what he wanted and wasn't ashamed of her. He was all her's. She kissed him on the forehead and her fingers danced along his covered legs.

"Are you going to tell me what happened to you? Or do I have to extract that information another way?" Talib said with a twinkle in her eyes.

"I wish, but I'm too sore for that. I was following Anchor Face to his hideout, but he knew I was following him somehow. Apparently, I was not careful enough."

"Do you think someone tipped him off?" Talib asked, hinting at the obvious villain smoking away outside.

"No, it wasn't him. He has more to gain by me living."

"What do you mean?"

"He asked me to spy on Hero's Inc."

"You can't! They will send you to prison if you get caught."

"I have no choice. Your dad made it clear I owed him."

Talib shook her head and tears ran down her cheeks. Kahleed wiped the tears from her warm face. "It's not all bad. At least I get to marry you."

"Don't spy for him. Please." Talib begged.

"It will be fine."

"I have seen what he does to his men. He will do the same to you. Leave them when they need him the most. And I don't want to be a single mother."

Kahleed sprung to life upon her revelation, sitting up despite the pain. "You're pregnant?"

She sniffled. "I wanted to tell you sooner, but—"

Kahleed kissed her on the lips, fighting the pain that shot through his whole body. He always wanted to be a father and her news brought him joy he thought he would never experience. Her sweet lips made him forget about the pain and he took in the moment. A fiance who loved him and a child on the way. Despite the savage beating he sustained earlier, this was the best day he had in a long time. He released her from his wet grip, smiling ear to ear.

"You will be an amazing mother. I vow right now to not let you go through it alone," Kahleed said, with newfound energy.

"Oh Kahleed. Oh Kahleed!" she said looking toward the tent that was pitched in her bed.

"What?" he said, realizing he was not in control of his own arousal.

"I didn't think you…"

"No no no. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited...but not like that," he said, lifting the covers to make sure it was actually him. 

"I'll get the doctor," she said, going to the door.

Kahleed's vision blurred again and it became difficult to keep his head still. The next thing he knew, the pillow welcomed his return and his eyes started to close. His last words before he went unconscious, "Don't tell your da…"

***

Veggies and Meat

It had been one year to the day Lenny started working at Hero's Inc. He had accomplished his dream of becoming a full time superhero, going by his alter ego, Spinach Head. Before that, he was a grocer at a vegan supermarket. Well, grocer and mascot. His face was on every advertisement the company made because his head was green. It resembled a head of lettuce more than spinach, but Lettuce Head never stuck, despite it being a better name. 

His time at that store pushed him into the limelight and his ability to make vegetables out of thin air made him valuable to the company. He wasn't a hero at the time, but that didn't stop him from gaining an arch nemesis, The Butcher. The Butcher was the opposing mascot for the butcher shop across the street. He wore a basic butcher outfit and roamed the sidewalk with a bloody knife in his hand. The cops were called constantly to that store, but all it did was bring in more business. Lenny hated it.

Eventually, Lenny got the attention of Hero's Inc. after stopping an unruly customer who demanded he be served pork. The customer even brought in his own bloody pig for good measure. Lenny sprung into action, helping his fellow coworkers when he heard a ticking sound coming from the dead pig. Acting on instinct he grabbed the pig and ran out of the store, leaving a blood trail behind him. He set it down in the middle of the parking lot and filled the pig with greens that he ripped out of the back of his head.

He ripped out so many greens in such a short time he became light headed. The pig was filled to the brim. Even a carrot was sticking out of its snout. He laughed at the sight and then the bomb inside detonated. Instead of being turned into a tossed salad, Lenny was unscathed, bathing in a shower of vegetables and pork bits. He had saved his co-workers and the store from a real mess, but The Butcher looked upon him with disgust, holding the detonator in his hand.

Needless to say, the news media gobbled it up and Lenny had the job he always wanted. He was happy to finally be a hero, but it came at a cost. Money. There was none. At least not while he was on probation for the first few months. He wasn't a well known name and starting out all heroes were paid terribly. It forced him to get a roommate, Frank. 

Frank was a burly man with a beard and filled his refrigerator with cold cuts, but Lenny did not mind. At least Frank paid his fair share. Lenny and Frank had similar work schedules. Long days and sometimes nights, yet neither of them came home at the same time. Lenny would fight his arch nemesis, The Butcher, while Frank did...well Lenny didn't know what Frank did, but that never concerned him.

It had been Lenny's one year anniversary with Hero’s Inc. and he was making breakfast after a long night of fighting his nemesis in a local market, when he caught a glimpse of the news on the TV. It showed the fight he was in and he caught a detail he missed while dodging The Butcher's blades. The Butcher cut himself. Lenny didn't think much of it at first until Frank came in. 

Frank stumbled into the apartment without acknowledging Lenny, making a beeline for the couch. That was when Lenny noticed a cloth wrapped around Frank's right hand with some blood on it. Lenny grabbed his bowl of cereal and went over to investigate. 

"Hey Frank, rough night?" Lenny asked.

Frank lowered himself onto the couch long ways. "I guess."

"What happened to your hand?" Lenny asked, crunching on his corn flakes.

"Cut myself," he said, focusing on the TV. 

"Hmmm. How did you do that?"

"Lost my focus. Some prick distracted me."

Lenny could hear the anger in Frank's voice. Lenny wanted to believe him, but after the news coverage Frank looked far too familiar. "Some prick? Care to elaborate?"

"No, I don't. Leave me alone, I'm trying to watch TV."

"Okay. Let me get you a new wrap for your hand. Don't want you bleeding on the couch," Lenny said, making his way toward Frank's room. 

"Hey where are you going?" Frank said, sitting up.

"To get a wrap. I assume you have some in your room."

"Don't go in there!"

Lenny opened his door. "Too late."

Frank sprung off the couch, but it was indeed too late. Inside Frank's room were walls of knives and several iterations of costumes for The Butcher laying on the bed. Even though Lenny had his suspicions, he couldn't believe his eyes. Frank stood next to him, leaning against the doorframe.

"I told you not to go in there," Frank said. 

"You're The Butcher...my arch nemesis," Lenny said.

Frank shrugged. 

"Why?" Lenny asked.

"Why what?"

"Why are you my roommate? Why haven't you tried to kill me in my sleep?"

"I needed a place to stay."

Lenny shook his head in disbelief. "Are you spying on me? Keep your friends close, enemies closer?"

"Nope. Just needed a roommate. After the failed bombing at that gross vegan place you worked at, I was fired."

"You were fired for failing to bomb a VegeeSmart?"

"Failing to draw customers away, but yes. After that, I needed a job and villainy was all I was good at. Doesn't pay that much, so beggers can't be choosers."

"So, you knew who I was and you still wanted to be my roommate?"

"At least you weren't a complete stranger. Figured hanging around a good person might rub off on me."

Lenny stood there, seeing Frank for who he really was. A normal guy, who happened to dress up in a butcher outfit and commit crimes. Lenny wanted to grab the phone. Dial 911 and be done with it, but his landlady's sultry voice whispered in his head. If you can't afford your rent, I can think of a few ways you can repay me.

Lenny shuttered at the thought of what his elderly landlady had in store for him if he didn't come through with the cash. "I think I can overlook this, but you will need to be paying more of the rent."

"Then you need to wait longer before coming after me so I can walk away with more than a few dollars," Frank said. 

"Fine. But no more threatening civilians."

"I have to threaten them. Part of the job."

Lenny raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. He was not going to let Frank off so easily. 

"I promise not to rough them up. That's the best I can do," Frank offered.

Lenny thought about Frank's counter offer. It was not ideal, but getting a villain to agree to terms like that was almost impossible in this city. He wanted more, but he knew when enough was enough. 

"Deal."

***

No One is Bulletproof

"What do you mean you don't want to be a superhero?" Bill said.

"I mean I don't want to be a superhero. What is so hard to understand?" Lilly said, putting on her duty belt.

"You're bulletproof. You could do so much more with those talents than patrolling this beat. Not to mention a pay increase."

"I worked my whole life to become a cop. I don't see how having a superpower changes anything."

"But it does...babe...listen," he said, setting her down on the old bed. "Everyday you go to work and file reports about stuff that has already happened. Wouldn't it be nice to be proactive for a change?"

"We are proactive. Those superheroes make our job more difficult. They take down small time players that we spent months gaining trust, so we can't go after bigger fish. How I see it, if they cared about the city, they would at least coordinate with us."

"You could be that person. Think about it. A liaison to Precinct 12."

"We already have one of those, Captain Marsh."

"Captain Marsh is worthless. There is a reason he doesn't leave his office. I've seen him at the department parties you bring me to," Bill said, pretending to chug a beer.

"But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"I won't be around as much. And let's be honest, I won't be able to patrol this beat if I become a superhero. Not like I do now."

"But I can't hog you all to myself. Not when you have such extraordinary gifts. You always said you wanted to help people. To make a difference."

"And I am in my current job. I don't need to be more than that."

Bill brushed her brown hair aside, looking deep into her dark brown eyes. "But you already are more than that. I always could see that."

Lilly smiled at Bill like when she did at their wedding. Sadly their wedding reception was rundown much like their bedroom was now. Clothes were scattered everywhere, stains on the carpet, and a constant locker room smell that never quite went away. Even their bedroom mirror had a crack in it and the pipes above their ceiling rattled when the neighbors upstairs ran any water. All this made made her fond memories grow stronger. She wanted to say yes. To become a hero and do more than her normal patrol down the same crime ridden beat. But the risk was too great.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and sat up from the bed. "I will see you when I get back."

"And I will have spaghetti waiting," Bill said, pushing off the bed. Something crunched under his left hand. "Hey, honey. What is this?" 

Lilly's eyes got big, seeing Bill hold a folded white note in his hand. She snatched the note from his loose grip before he could contemplate opening it.

"That is classified—for a case," Lilly said, trying to think of something realistic.

"What did we say about bringing your work home with you?"

"Not to. It must have fell out of my pocket. I better go before I'm late."

Bill waved goodbye, unsure why she was so weird about the note. His concern went away quick after Scruffles dashed past Lilly and jumped on Bill. 

"Hello there Scruffles. Not going to say goodbye to mommy," Bill said, rubbing his nose against her whiskers.

Lilly was glad Bill was preoccupied with their cat and opened the note while she opened the door outside.

'You have superpowers. Good for you. Think about joining Hero's Inc. and consider your husband dead. Destroy after reading or we will test how bulletproof you are.'

Lilly's head was still firmly in the note walking down the sidewalk, unaware of a man wearing drab clothes with holes in everything coming toward her. He bumped into her and ripped the note from her hand, crushing it in his fist.

"Give that back!" Lilly ordered, loud and clear.

"When Jaster says destroy something, you do it, lady," the man said, starting the paper on fire with his yellow Bic lighter. 

The man clutched the paper in his hand the entire time while it burned up to his fist before he let go, letting what was left drift in the wind. Lilly stared at this man while the paper flew away. Her hand was on her gun, but she was frozen in fear. Not of the man who had little regard for authority, but of Jaster. He knew where she lived. How long before he came asking for her to do something for him?

***