Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)
Chapter 208: Let’s go back a bit, Liss

Chapter 208: Let’s go back a bit, Liss

The Haven was a skeleton of concrete and dreams that night.

Freya, still raw from her capture, had been dropped off by Liss in the morning hours, her icy powers leashed by a collar, her defiance barely tempered by Kael’s quiet resolve.

He also went to shopping with Rhea and bought some clothes, and sexy clothes, hoping he would see them on Freya’s curvy figure soon.

It was past midnight now.

The city’s soft buzz drifting through the cracked window of Kael’s sparse room.

He sat on the edge of his cot, his phone rested in his hand, the screen glowing faintly, her name—Lightning Lass—highlighted under his thumb.

He hesitated, his jaw tight, then tapped the contact.

The line clicked after two rings.

"Kael?" Liss’s voice came through, clear, alert, a familiar anchor in the dark. "Hey."

"Hey," he said, his voice rough, softer than he meant.

"...You okay?" Her tone shifted, concern threading through the lightness.

"I’m fine," he lied, reflex automatic, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Just... wanted to say thanks. For Freya. For the others. I know it’s not easy, bringing them in under the radar."

A pause, then her voice, quick, almost sharp.

"I’m not doing it for them." Softer, she added, "It’s fine. You don’t need to thank me every time, you are giving me money anyway, it’s not free."

Kael exhaled, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he leaned back against the wall. "Still. You’re putting yourself out there. You don’t have to."

"I know." Another pause, her breath audible, steady. "I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to."

The smile lingered, warmer now. "How’s the hero grind?"

She sighed, the sound carrying a mix of exhaustion and wry humor.

"Tiring. Still stuck in A-Class limbo, not even the upper A tier. I fry more villains than I save people these days."

"You’ll break through," he said, his voice firm, believing it more than she did.

"Optimistic as always," she teased, but there was a smile in her tone.

"Just honest."

A comfortable silence settled, the kind that didn’t need filling, built from years of trust.

The city’s hum filtered through the window, a low pulse matching the quiet rhythm of their breathing.

"You know," Liss said, her voice quieter, softer, "it wasn’t the same after you left."

Kael’s eyes flicked to the ceiling, his chest tightening. He stayed silent, letting her words sink in.

"Everyone thought Harris made the right call by convincing you to quit," she continued, her tone edged with bitterness. "That a B-Class hero who keeps getting banged up wasn’t worth keeping and was only playing with his life at stake."

"He wasn’t wrong," Kael said, his voice low, accepting.

"He was," she snapped, fierce, unyielding. "You were the heart of the team. Sure, your powers—feeling people’s pain, calming them with a touch—weren’t flashy, but you held us together. After a bad fight, a messy call, you made it... bearable."

Kael chuckled, the sound rough, deflecting. "That’s just the empath thing."

"No," she said, her voice firm, almost pleading. "That was you. The powers helped, but it was you."

His jaw tightened, her words hitting deeper than he wanted to admit.

He stayed quiet, his fingers tracing the bandage on his ribs, grounding himself in the pain.

"I miss having someone who doesn’t treat everything like a war," she said, softer now, vulnerable. "Who doesn’t pretend it’s all fine just to get through a briefing."

"You always had a way with words," he said, a faint smirk in his voice, dodging the weight of her confession.

"I am not flirting," she said, but her tone carried a smile, light but real.

Kael leaned back, his cot creaking faintly.

"So, what do you think of this rehab project?"

"Honestly?" she asked, a playful challenge in her voice.

"Always."

"I think it’s stupid," she said bluntly.

He laughed, the sound easing the tension in his chest. "Of course you do."

"But," she added, her voice softening, "if anyone can make the impossible work, it’s you. Even if it’s just one person out of a hundred. Even if it’s just... giving someone a reason to stop being what the world made them."

Kael’s laughter faded, his throat tight.

He didn’t speak, her words settling like a weight he hadn’t realized he needed.

"If you need help," she said gently, almost a whisper, "I’ll keep sending them. You don’t need to pay me."

"I’ll figure something out," he said, his voice low, resolute.

"You already did," she murmured. "You stopped hiding."

The silence grew heavier, not awkward but full, charged with something unspoken.

The city’s buzz seemed distant now, the world shrinking to the space between their voices.

A soft breath came through the line, unsteady, almost fragile.

Kael’s brow furrowed. "Liss? You okay?"

"Yeah," she said quickly, too quickly, her voice strained, vulnerable. "Just... a long day."

He caught the edge in her tone, something raw, unfiltered.

"You still there?" she asked, a faint tremor in her words.

"Yeah," he said, his voice steady, anchoring.

"I thought maybe you hung up."

"No."

Another quiet second, the line crackling faintly with static, their breaths syncing in the dark.

.

.

.

"Kael," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "do you ever... feel like you’re the only one still fighting for something that doesn’t exist?"

He didn’t answer right away, his fingers tightening on the phone.

"Sometimes," he admitted, the word heavy, honest.

"I wish you didn’t," she said, her voice soft, aching.

"I know."

"You want me to stop sending them?"

"No," he said firmly. "Please don’t."

Another silence, thick with shared pain, shared hope.

Then she spoke, her tone lighter, teasing, but still raw. "Okay. But one day you’re gonna owe me dinner, a really expensive one."

"That’s fair," he said, a faint smile returning.

"And maybe," she added, her voice dropping, quieter, more intimate, "just... stay on the line a little longer tonight."

Kael didn’t reply, but he didn’t hang up.

The silence stretched, comfortable, dangerous, the kind only possible between people who knew each other too well—too deeply.

Then—a sound.

Soft, breathy.

"Ahn~"

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