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The overhead light buzzed faintly, casting harsh shadows across the living room. Outside, sirens wailed. Police, fire, ambulance, all converging on the destruction they had left behind. The city's emergency response to those viral videos were probably already spreading across social media.
The world had watched him fight symbiotes as a variation of Ghost Rider. By morning, every news outlet on the planet would be trying to explain what couldn't be explained.
But right now, none of that mattered.
Felicia knelt on the floor, still wrapped in the black symbiote version of Black Cat suit. Her lips trembled, not from cold, but from fear or perhaps guilt of attacking him under Norman's control. The symbiote was still in control.
"Come to me."
The symbiote shuddered. The entire suit rippled, and Felicia gasped as it began to peel away. Black tendrils withdrew from her skin with wet, squelching sounds. The symbiote flowed toward him like a slime, wrapping obediently around his forearm.
He stuffed it into his left pocket, feeling it squirm before going still. Walter Hardy's symbiote already occupied his right pocket. Both symbiotes had submitted to him, shrinking to a size that could easily fit into his pocket.
Felicia's body went slack the instant the symbiote bond broke. He reached out and caught her before she could crack her skull on the floor. Her weight settled against him like she was a puddle, completely drained of energy. Her sweat-damp hair clung to his neck. The frantic hammering of her heart against his chest was the sweetest sound he'd heard all night. Her breath came shallow, uneven, but it was there. He'd reached her in time.
He adjusted his grip, guiding her toward the couch until she slumped against the cushions. That's when it registered her state.
'Shit. Her clothes.'
Her black turtleneck hung in tatters, exposing skin that should have stayed covered. Her jeans fared slightly better but sported holes in various places.
After what they had been through in the past hour, he wasn't even in the mood to be aroused. He shrugged off his biker jacket and draped it over her shoulders, zipping it to cover her.
'She looks terrible.'
Her skin had taken on an unhealthy pale beneath a sheen of perspiration. Her lips, usually so expressive and playful, were dry and colorless. The symbiote hadn't just drained her physically but also mentally.
He retrieved a glass of water from the kitchen and tilted her head back to make her drink. Her eyelids fluttered but didn't open. Her breathing reached a slow and even rhythm. He saw her lips move anxiously.
Dante settled beside her. Felicia shifted slightly, her head tilting until it rested against his shoulder. The movement was too coincidental to be unconscious.
"Can you stop acting?"
One of her eyelids twitched—a tiny movement she suppressed instantly. But Dante wouldn't have missed it at such a close distance. She knew she had messed up everything and disappointed probably the only friend she had who was helping her, not actively trying to use her for something.
So she was doing what people did best when cornered: pretending the problem didn't exist until it went away. Or maybe she needed this quiet moment to piece herself back together.
He flicked her forehead on the same spot he had targeted before, his go-to punishment for when the mischievous cat got too clever for her own good.
"Ow!" Felicia's eyes flew open, immediately narrowing into a glare. She would've been a tad bit intimidating if she didn't look so miserable and exhausted. "Ruthless. That's what you are. And to your favorite lady, no less."
"My favorite lady wouldn't fake unconsciousness to dodge a conversation."
"I wasn't faking." Her gaze slid away from his, landing somewhere over his shoulder. Anywhere but the blue flames burning in his eyes. "I was... calming my heart. Very important for trauma prevention, I read it somewhere."
A smile tugged at his mouth. "Coward."
"Can you blame me?" Her voice came out smaller than before, stripped of its usual playfulness. "I screwed everything, and now they know your powers… I acted like an idiot."
"Yeah. You did."
She flinched like he had just slapped her. "Darling, this is the part where you comfort me, whisper sweet reassurances that everything will be fine."
"No."
"Then what? Will you lecture me?" The laugh that followed felt too forced. "Or hit me with the 'I'm disappointed' speech."
"I'm not your mom for fuck's sake."
"So you aren't disappointed?" Uncertainty flickered across her face, then her playful mask returned with a smirk. "Here I was mentally preparing myself for an hour-long session on trust and poor life choices."
Again, she used her armor as a shield to hide her worries.
He shook his head. "Norman used your father. Not entirely your fault."
That left her silent for a long moment. She stared at him, searching his face, or what passed for his face under the skull flames. "I can't tell if you're lying or telling the truth under that thing."
"What do you think?"
"Be more ruthless." Her hands, still trembling slightly from symbiote withdrawal, grabbed his arm and pulled it against her chest where her heart still beat like a drum. "Otherwise I'll keep thinking I can get away with anything around you… that you'll always save my damsel ass."
"Let's talk about it after I've settled things with Silvija."
He was unable to stop himself from sighing. He wouldn't have gone insane with worries for just a friend. She wouldn't be so vulnerable and seek comfort if he was just a friend. There was no avoiding that both of them had something for each other. Better to address it honestly like adults before things get out of hand.
"Felicia, aren't you forgetting someone?"
She went rigid, her grip on his arm turning almost painful. Then she pulled away entirely, wrapping her arms around herself like she could physically hold herself from falling apart.
"Can we... not? Just for a minute?"
Walter's transformation had left a deep scar on her that would need a long time to heal.
"Felicia—"
"I know we have to. I know." She still wouldn't look at him. "It's just... did you see him? What he became…?"
"I did."
"He didn't recognize me. I called him Dad—Dad, like I used to… and he just stared. Like his daugher… didn't exist."
Dante settled a hand on her shoulder, applying gentle pressure to tug her against his side. She resisted for half a second before giving in, letting herself lean into him, accepting the comfort she'd been too proud to ask for.
"That wasn't him. Norman was controlling him."
She turned to look at him fully, and her eyes were wet. Tears clung to her lashes before spilling over. Felicia could endure everything except someone harming her family. Norman hadn't just harmed her precious father; he had desecrated their relationship, and that broke her.
"I know that. But what if he chose this?" She whispered, baring her heart completely. "Desperate people take desperate actions… What if he sold out for a fresh start?"
The fear of being abandoned by her father, whose presence had been responsible for shaping her life. Felicia would be a completely different person without Walter Hardy's imprisonment.
Dante rubbed her head and took out both symbiotes, letting one curl around his hand and the other around his forearm. Walter's bonded symbiote trembled with fear and Felicia's symbiote convulsed with shame.
"Why don't we ask your Dad if he betrayed you or not?"
Felicia's eyes went wide. "Two? You got Dad's symbiote?"
"Yup."
She blinked like someone waking from dreams. Then she elbowed his ribs, though the impact was so weak he barely felt it. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? Was it fun watching little Felicia break down in tears?"
A chuckle escaped him. "Are we going or not?"
"Of course we are." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and just like that, her cheekiness returned. "Give me a second."
Felicia took a breath and let it out slowly before using the couch as a support to stand. She flashed a triumphant grin when she was almost straight. Then her trembling knees buckled. With a whimper, she pushed herself through sheer stubborn pride, refusing to admit defeat even when defeat was obvious.
"Just wait—"
He swept her into his arms before she could protest. One arm slid beneath her knees, the other supporting her back. The classic princess carry.
She yelped in surprise, then she settled against his chest with her arms looping around his neck. "Darling…"
"Can you stop being so stubborn?" He glared down at her, as much as his flaming skull could glare. "You could've avoided this if you just told me about your father. I was right there."
Her stubbornness was endearing but also infuriating. He had to set things straight, or today's disaster would repeat itself tomorrow. Felicia had gotten so used to being a lone wolf that she didn't even consider asking for help until it was too late. She didn't have to anymore because she had people willing to help her.
He was there.
Silvija had set aside their personal grievances with Felicia's flirtatiousness to help her.
Death had helped him because she didn't hate Felicia, otherwise, they wouldn't have hugged that night.
Felicia had more than just her parents.
"I texted you—"
"After you were already there." He would've flicked her forehead if his hands weren't being used to hold her. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?"
"Darling—"
"You will thank Silvija and Death later. I couldn't have made it without them."
The website tracking Felicia's location had SHIELD written all over it. Silvija wouldn't have paid a small price to get them involved.
Felicia wasn't remotely apologetic. Instead, her smile widened mischievously. "Okay! I'll fall on my knees and express my gratitude to her Royal Highness and Almighty Death herself."
"What's so funny about this?" he groaned. "I'm being serious, you know?"
"Because you're so cute!" She squeezed his neck tighter, peering up through platinum blonde bangs for maximum cuteness effect. "Darling, this would be a perfect moment for a kiss. Very romantic and cinematic… except you still look like a corpse. That really kills the mood."
"What if it's my true form?"
She widened her eyes. "Don't you lie to me! I'm not getting freaky with a skeleton. Call me old-fashioned or whatever, but I prefer my first boyfriend to have skin."
"Guess you're out of luck."
"Noooooo."
***
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