Young Writers Society

Reshiram Morris

Resh automatically scoffed at the question, his pride inflating.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." he waved a hand and stood, if a bit shakily. In truth, his lack of balance scared him a little, and this showed on his face, but he collected himself enough to do a stubborn step demonstration all the same.

He raised an eyebrow.

"You don't look fine to me," he said. He thought for a moment, studying Resh before giving a sigh. "Look, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. You can admit that you need help, and I can help walk you back to the apartment. Or you stumble a few feet away from this bench, and I carry you in my arms the entire way back."

Reshiram Morris

Resh shot Dante a murderous look, but wasn't able to hold his ground for long- the man seemed like he was used to putting up with strong-willed people, and he really did have a point. As per usual.

Finally, he let out a sigh, and threw his hands up a little.

"Well, if you're going to insist on helping me, knock yourself out." He glowered, still not able to admit just how off he was.

"Great," Dante said, slinging his arm underneath the superhero's to support it. Thankfully, Resh hadn't been able to get too far from the apartment, and he was able to get him back there relatively quickly.

A text later, and both Luci and Griffith were on their way back.

As soon as they made it back to the apartment, Resh had slunk defeatedly to the sofa he had claimed. A little sigh left him, but it was more from exhaustion than exasperation.

With nothing else left to do, he busied himself with folding the blankets he had slept with and waited for Griffith to get back.

"They should be back any minute now," Dante said, slinging his backpack off of his shoulders and dropping it onto Griffith's counter. It took some digging, but he was able to get his glass bottle out - popping off the top, he took a swig of the mysterious dark liquid. It probably looked like beer, but it was actually coke. He didn't like alcohol; he never had. But soda? Soda was always good.

"So," Dante asked as he leaned against the counter, "what's it like being a superhero?"

Resh glanced over warily and gave a half-hearted shrug from where he sat on the couch. The fight had left him somewhere back on the street when he was getting help walking, and now he was just exhausted.

However, he a little want was squirming his way into his chest. He wanted to be friendly- to be someone who got along with people, someone who could be talked to easily. He didn't want to get stuck in this cycle again, of pushing people away.

It was just so hard to make himself vulnerable again.

"It's... Pretty ordinary actually. Keeps you busy. The powers were pretty cool, for awhile..." He smiled weakly at his own pun, his eyebrows raising slightly. "but yeah, now they're pretty much just a part of me. The hardest part isn't the villians and stuff- not really. It's more... Getting used to the whole 'being a hero' thing."

He let out a breath, strangely relieved at his ability to share everything he did. It felt good, however awkward. After a moment, he looked up and tilted his head, squinting at Dante as if something had just occured to him.

"What about you. What exactly... Do you do?"

He took another swig from the bottle.

Griffith was either going to be okay with this or be upset that he had revealed that some part of his life wasn't the least bit normal, but there was no way he could get around it. The only other answer he had was to say that he was the head of some group, but that would bring up the questions of what group. And he really didn't feel like trying to come up with a good comparison for running an afterlife.

Then again, Resh might have understood the responsibility.

"I'm a superhero, too, in a way," he said. He looked up from the bottle and over at Resh. "Have you ever seen Supernatural? I do what the Winchesters do - I go out and help people with problems. I just do things a little differently. Sometimes the person I'm helping is a human with nonhuman problems, and sometimes it's the other way around."

"Oh, really?" Resh's brows raised in genuine interest, though he also seemed slightly disgusted by the concept. "That seems a bit... Tedious. Do you do this anonymously, or...?"

"Sometimes anonymous, sometimes not," he replied. Technically all of it was anonymous to an extent, but Resh certainly wasn't a Christian - there wasn't a reason for him to suspect that Dante was anyone but who he said he was. "It really depends on the situation."