Six: Bully

*thanks to Head_in_the_clouds for your support!!*

***

Say whatever you want about Lich. He took that punch like a goddamned man.

Sage had thrown a punch or two in his day, usually at cops, so he certainly knew how to make it hurt. But Lich merely stumbled back a step, readjusted his veil where Sage’s punch had shifted it, and continued bulldozing toward Sage like nothing had happened.

Alarmed, Sage jumped out of the way, and narrowly avoided being grabbed by the hero.

Alright. Something’s got to give. Just what the fuck was up with this dude coming after Sage – who, by the way, was literally not committing a crime at the moment – like Sage had just murdered his lover?

Heroes weren’t police, so they didn’t need just cause to go after someone. Lich could be gunning for Sage entirely because he was a villain. But it’s worth noting that heroes don’t really do that.

Ironically, most of them aren’t that righteous. They’ll stop a villain in the moment, sure, when they’re actually doing something wrong. But when that villain is just walking down the street, minding their business? Heroes don’t bother. They do it when the time is right – when the moment is properly dramatic (and likely televised, to showcase their awesomeness). Just ambushing a villain on the street to bring him in to the police was pointless. It was like that adage about whether a tree falling made noise if no one was around to hear it. Unwitnessed heroism wasn’t real, as far as they were concerned.

“The hell is your problem?” Sage finally shouted, voice pinched as he contorted his body to escape Lich’s greedy paws.

Lich paused for a split second, as if he was considering actually answering, but the second passed, and Lich managed to snag the back of Sage’s shirt, pulling him back roughly. Sage windmilled for a moment before inevitably falling backward.

Sage winced, bracing himself to break his skull open on the pavement. Splat, and that was the end of Sage. It was coming any minute now.

Except it didn’t. Lich’s hand had never left Sage’s shirt, so it was now breaking Sage’s fall, holding him up at a strange angle. Sage would never have been able to hold up a full-grown man with one hand like that, so he was momentarily dazed, limp in Lich’s hold.

God damn. The arm muscles on this man. Sage would have whistled in awe if the situation were different.

Sage started, catching that veiled face looking down at him, and though Sage couldn’t see his expression, he imagined the hero raising an eyebrow at him. Sage blushed, grateful that his mask hid his cheeks, and practically flung himself out of Lich’s grasp.

“What do you want?” Sage said, proud of the way his voice didn’t break. He could be a mature adult about this. Sure, Lich had done nothing to deserve Sage’s maturity, but nothing else was getting through to him, so he might as well try.

Sage was only half expecting a response. Thus far, Lich had been all action, no words, and Sage wasn’t figuring he would suddenly burst into a soliloquy on why he was an asshole to Sage, specifically.

True to form, Lich didn’t actually say anything, but he did shrug.

That’s it. A single, up-and-down, relaxed ‘I dunno man’ shrug. And then he lunged at Sage again and they began their dance anew, one advancing, one retreating.

Okay. Alright. Sage was not feeling murderous. No siree, not murderous at all. It was totally fine to ambush someone in a dark parking lot for no reason in particular. Whatever, right? Haha, funny joke.

Sage was actually so angry his head went blank. He didn’t think, just moved, aiming another punch at the asshole’s face. Lich dodged, but Sage still clipped him on the jaw, and then suddenly, Sage was the one advancing. He punched, he kicked – but unfortunately, Lich didn’t let him have the upper hand for long.

Lich got a leg behind Sage’s, and before Sage could jump out of range, Lich tripped him, sending Sage falling on his ass. Which, Sage had to say, hurt a goddamn lot when you were falling on concrete. He sat for a moment, getting his bearings, and he expected the moment of hesitance to result in Lich kicking him in the jaw – which is what Sage would have done if their situations were reversed.

But Lich didn’t do that. He waited for Sage to get up, which was a strangely gentlemanly gesture, as if they were in an old-fashioned duel and not a parking lot brawl. However, before Sage could stand, Lich bent down at the waist and whispered something to Sage:

“Run.”

Maybe it was the hissing quality of his voice when he said it, maybe it was the feeling of being pinned in place by his stare despite the layer of fabric shielding his face. There was also a lingering feeling of being watched by someone else, gazes attaching themselves to Sage from all sides, though Sage knew for a fact he and Lich were alone in the lot. Whatever it was, it made a cold shiver go down Sage’s spine, accompanied by the feeling of icy fingers walking across his scalp.

Sage’s brain supplied what these sensations must be.

Ghosts.

He had no evidence to say that there were for sure ghosts surrounding him, but the very presence of the world’s only known necromancer mere steps away from him was pretty much confirmation enough.

Sage would never admit this to anyone except close family, but he was actually terrified of ghosts after one particularly scarring childhood encounter. In fact, this whole time, he had been trying not to think about the possibility that there was an entourage of ghosts surrounding Lich at all times, meaning that whenever Sage was in his general vicinity, they were surrounding him too.

But now, feeling like all the air was being frozen in his lungs, Sage felt watched, and suddenly he had to leave. He had to get out of there. Right now.

So he did what Lich said, and ran. He sprinted towards the nearest hiding place – the now closed mall, empty except for janitors and lingering store managers.

And just like last time, Lich chased after him, slow, steady – an inexorable presence right on his heels.

Sage was done asking what Lich wanted. It was becoming clear to him that there was no reason. Lich was cracked, damaged. And for some reason, he was latched onto Sage.

For any other mentally unstable person, Sage didn’t think he’d mind so much if they were to start clinging to him. But in this case…

He wasn’t sure he was going to survive the experience.