A gloved fist threw one final punch, and a heavy body hit the floor. Oh, god... Eddie.
The cuts stung, every single one of them. The large salty tears didn't help the pain. She couldn't move, couldn't process what had happened. She could nothing but inhale and exhale as tears burned over her wounds. "Cover yourself up, Sally, for Christ's sake." Hollis's voice was hard, ashamed. "Sally." He called her name again, this time moving closer to her. Every section of her skin was beat sore and the bruises screamed as she straightened up. The costumed cutie kept her eyes down, away from everybody. Why would she look at them now, how could she? The first few steps were the worst. Oh my... my ribs. She reached up, pulling the black dress off the hanger and clutching the shoulder pad like a child holds a stuffed toy after they'd woken up from a nightmare.
One... two. One... two. Sally unconsciously counted her steps as she walked to the bathroom down the hall. She'd walked to it a million times and the commute was so quick, she'd never be gone longer than a second. Now, the hallway stretched underneath her feet, making that wooden door farther and farther apart. She heard them talking behind her, back in the room. She was walking at an awkward angle to ease the pain of her cracked ribs.
She was too broken to smile, too proud to let them see her weak. Public reputation was black and white, and the stunning smile of Silk Spectre was now just an image in her mind. No human could conjure enough strength in the woman to make her smile now. The handle was cold as she twisted it, and shut herself inside, falling with a thump against the back of the door. Tears spilled out then, thick and warm, toxic to her broken skin.
"Why... oh, why." She cried, the sound muffled by her hands. No, this wasn't what she was supposed to do, how she should act. Gripping the porcelain rim of the sink, she straightened up for the second time in the hour, and winced all the same. Now, the mirror faced her.
Her face was a mess, lips swollen and cheeks bruised. There was an abrasion above her eye, the blood already drying. All the makeup was faded, red lipstick smeared off the side where -Eddie's fist crunched into the side of her face. Her teeth clenched and ground against each other as her head flew to the side weakly. It felt like hours that Sally stood in front of her reflection, tears dripping out the corners of her eyes. She would have been there all night if the interruption that damn near saved her life hadn't occurred.
"Sally? Sal?" Two knocks followed the voice. It was Hollis. Drawing her hand across her nose, she tightened her posture, or tried. Three sharp pricks reminded her that her ribs were snapped in half, and straight as a board postures weren't in her abiities. "Hollis," She whispered, pulling the door open an inch. His soft, friendly features were there, looking in the crack of the door with concern. "Oh, Sally."
The pained expression on Nite Owl's face caused more tears to slide out. Her grip went limp on the handle, and Hollis placed his hand on the outside of the door, nudging it open. Sally backed away, turning her battered head away from his worried eyes. She wanted to cry, to cry on his shoulder and let the pain drift away.
"God damn that Comedian." Hollis growled, taking his gloves off and snatching a white wash cloth off the shelf. He turned the left knob, and steam curled up from the sink basin. Dipping the tip of the rag into it, Hollis's intentions were clear. "Let me see." He placed a hand on Sally's shoulder, pulling her closer to him. All the resistance melted away within the woman as one, surprisingly soft hand caressed the skin of her shoulder.
He pressed the cloth to Sally's cheek, wiping away the blood and tears that stained her. He pulled back every time she winced, and waited for her sad, dark eyes to flicker back up to his before he started again. Eight minutes had passed, and Sally's face was nearly blood-free. He'd dabbed at the underside of her nose, held it for a moment, allowing the fluid to be soaked up by the fibers. He'd cleaned the cut on the side of her nose, rubbing over it gently. Sally took in a shaky breath when he'd pulled her bottom lip down with his index finger, and laid the warmth over the gash inside.
"Aw, Sally." He said, draping the cloth over the rim of the sink. "Look at me." He placed his fingers underneath her chin, lifting it. "What the Comedian did to you, he's not going to be in the group anymore after this. It was wrong, you didn't deserve that." Sally pursed her lips, fighting off the tears as they came. "You're still a hero, Sally Jupiter. You're still a hero to me."
Sally's eyebrows rose, her lips dropping apart. His soft, friendly eyes and her hurt, broken ones locked together, and it was if Sally's heart pulled itself back together. "Oh, Hollis. Thank-you." His hands dropped to hers, where Sally took the initiative to lace her fingers with his. He pulled her strong body against his delicately, and wrapped his arms around her back. "You never have to thank me."
Sally inhaled the warm, comforting smell of her friend, her best friend in the entire world. Hollis Mason inhaled the sweet, womanly scent of his true love. He'd wanted to ask her on a date, so many times but never got enough courage to. Maybe now he would. Sally tightened her grip around his waist, a few crying heaves shaking their embrace. "No, Sally you never... have to thank me."