AN: Hello friendly readers! The following chapter is a bonus chapter I wrote of a story that my friend is writing and I have been Beta-ing. It is the story of super-hero Thorne and Cress and their adventures with secret identities and superpowers! For the full story, please go through to the following story: Masks by author: SecretInk

For some context, Cress in her civilian identity has been captured by a supervillain with the power to control/turn into sand. Thorne, as "Captain" is in the middle of trying to save her when this chapter picks up… Please read, review, and if you like it, please head over to my friend's story for the rest of it!

His fault. This was his fault somehow.

The sand and wind whipping around them, tossing him through the air like he was nothing more than a feather caught in the wind. He gripped Cress tightly, his focus narrowing to keeping her safe, to protecting her, despite the sand that filled his mouth, his nose, his ears, and likely hers as well. He felt her slipping, so he adjusted his grip, but it was a futile effort as the winds tossed and churned them around. He felt her body wretched away from him and cursed, holding as tight as he could to her hand, willing himself, with all of his strength to hold on. Without him, Cress was helpless against the sandstorm, defenceless. They crashed against something hard - the ground? A building? It was impossible to tell in the maelstrom.

Thorne grabbed again for her, but she was twisted away. He kept his vice-like grip on her hand and tried to phase them, but he was so disoriented it didn't work. He cursed again.

"Cress!" he called, running out of options and feeling panic start to kick in as her hand started slipping from his. No! He grabbed at it, but it was too late, all of a sudden he was flying over the city.

He tried to regain control of his movement as he flew through the air, but before he could orient himself a loud crash, glass breaking as he crashed through a window with all the grace of a brick. The startled cries of the room's residents barely registered as he stood up and darted to the window to get his bearings. He had been thrown halfway across the city. He launched himself out the window with but one thing on his mind. Cress.

He had to get back to her immediately. If he didn't- he refused to finish the thought. He sped back through the air as fast as he could go - faster than he had ever gone, even when running from Red, or the Mechanic. He promised himself that if he could just get to Cress in time, he was done with the stealing. He'd go full hero if he could just get to Cress in time. Hell he'd give up the gig altogether and go off to live on a farm in the country if it would keep her safe.

He'd been thrown so far. He tried to push himself even faster, barely daring to breathe for fear it would slow him down. His mind raced through the last few escapades he had done. There was the failed bank one - that couldn't be it. Was it the dolls? The diamonds? Whatever he had stolen from her had made her angry enough that she must have figured out who he was - who Cress was to him. It was diabolical.

He hit the ground behind Sandstorm and could see a writhing pile of sand swirling and tightening around a figure he could no longer see. Blood pounded in his head as he saw red, barely thinking before reaching inside of the woman and gripping her heart. The sand around Cress immediately fell to the ground - harmless as a sandbox, and The woman began to gurgle, reaching for her chest, but unable to get inside the way he could. Unable to defend herself from his attack. Cress looked up at them, a horrified expression on her face. He noted the tear tracks down her face and squeezed, before twisting and ripping his arm back out of her.

She fell forward. Dead.

His rage cooling, Thorne stared for a moment at his hand - coated in blood. He had never killed someone before. Sure he was a scoundrel, but he wasn't a murderer. His arms started shaking, and he dropped the heart that he had ripped out, almost throwing it away from himself in shock. His thoughts were beginning to spiral when a scream brought his attention back to the present. Back to Cress. She had scurried over to the body to inspect it, and was now staring, horrified at the dead woman's expression, at the hole in her back. The hole that he had put there.

"Cress," he tried, but could barely keep the strain out of his voice, "It's over Cress, we need to leave."

His voice caught her attention and she looked up at him, his attention snagging at his glove. He brushed the thought away and took a step, they needed to leave. Now.

"Cress?"

At his movement, she scrambled back, and he was glad to be wearing a mask so she couldn't see what that did to him. He stopped, and watched as though he could see her mind working, as she tried to take deep breaths and calm down.

"I had no other option." he could not have let her die. He wouldn't have been able to live with himself. He felt her eyes on him, assessing, processing. Eventually she replied.

"I- I know. I just…" they stared at each other a moment more, the silence lingering as she tried to find the words. Eventually she gave up and just tried to stand. She stumbled, but Thorne was there, to steady her and lift her up.

Once she was in his arms, he couldn't help himself. He clutched her against him and held her, the relief finally flooding through his body as he registered that she was alive. Not unhurt, but alive. Breathing. He felt her shudder against him and realised she was crying. He rubbed her back in a soothing manner, as she cried into him, laying his head against the top of hers, and blocking out all the ways this could have gone wrong.

Soon enough her sobs settled into sniffles and she pulled back slightly.

"I- I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me." she rubbed her eyes, smudging even more the makeup that had been almost obliterated by the sand. A rough laugh burst out of her, and he wondered what she considered funny at a time like this. It could be the shock, he supposed.

"Shh, it's all good." he couldn't resist brushing a piece of hair back from her face. Not that it did much with all the sand and wind that had been through it. "It's been a rough night. But it's over now. You're safe."

"Thanks to you," Cress said.

She turned her face up, finally, to look at him, and the smile that she wore, well it knocked the breath right out of him.

"You saved me. I told you that you would make a great hero. Thank you… Captain."

He barely registered his head descending toward hers, and then they were kissing, and he was trying to pull her closer, his hand in her hair, on her hip. Her own hand came up and he wondered if she would caress his cheek, thread her fingers through his hair-

SMACK

He stumbled back, a hand coming up to his cheek before covering the lips that had acted of their own volition. Had he wanted to kiss her? Of course, since the moment he had her in his arms, but was this the time or place? Definitely not.

"How dare you!" Cress seethed, rubbing her own lips as though to erase his touch. Ouch.

"I'm sorry Cress." He reached out, but she stepped back. "I didn't mean to kiss you. It didn't mean anything, I just-"

One of her eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You didn't mean to?" she demanded.

"I just…" Thorne had never seen her this mad, about anything. Even in their biggest fight she had been more hurt than mad. He didn't know what to say to make it right again.

"You just what?" She almost spat, the indignation clear on her face, in her stance.

"I forgot myself for a second." That was close enough to the truth. If he had been Thorne she would have welcomed his embrace. "I'm sorry Cress, I really am. It should never have happened."

Cress opened her mouth, but then closed it again, unsure. She looked at him, really looked at him, as though she could see beneath the mask, as if she could see him.

It could be a relief to have her know, to have no more secrets between them. He allowed the possibility to sit with him for a moment, but he knew that it would just cause more problems, cause her to worry. He took a step back and flashed a roguish grin.

"Then again, it couldn't hurt to try. I mean that's how the stories go, right? Scoundrel rescues the damsel in distress, adrenaline gets their blood pumping and next thing you know they give into their desires, and I don't think I need to elaborate on what would happen next." his grin grew wider as he talked, and he could see her anger and indignation rising within her again with his every word.

"You're disgusting."

Thorne shrugged to hide his sigh of relief. His wife was smart. If she thought about it too long, he knew she'd figure him out. "Many women would beg to differ." Herself included. "Oh well, no hard feelings. Come on, I'll take you home. Your husband is probably worried sick. You think he'll pay me for saving you?" he laughed and held his hand out to her, a twinkle in his eye.

"Don't touch me." The tone was cold as she wrapped her arms around herself and stepped away.

"Cress?" had he taken the teasing too far? "Listen, you know I would never hurt you? I don't know what came over me and-"

"Leave. I mean it Captain. I don't want you near me."

The words and the cold flat tone they had been delivered in hurt, and Thorne had to remind himself that she was speaking to Captain, not to him. She didn't know he was here. Nevertheless he couldn't just leave her in her current state.

"But you're injured." he argued, gesturing to the leg she was barely standing on. There were bruises peppering her arms, neck, legs, and face, and who knows what kind of internal injuries from being crushed by living sand. "You need medical attention. I can take you to a hospital."

"I said LEAVE!"

Thorne stood for a long moment, weighing his options. He could try and fly her to a hospital anyway, but if she put up a fight, she might hurt herself further. He could stay here and try and reason with her, but she didn't seem inclined to listen to reason. And fair enough, this had been a long and horrible night. Maybe he should leave and turn back into Thorne, someone he knew she'd trust. He could stay by her side with no questions if he dropped the mask. Decision made he finally nodded.

"Alright, please be careful."

Leaving was harder than he thought. She was so small, so fragile just standing there in the alley, still covered in sand and processing the events of the night. With one last look, he gave her a two fingered salute and took off to the night sky, immediately scanning for somewhere safe to de-transform and return.

There were emergency personnel everywhere. He swore. It was going to take him ages to get back to her as Thorne, he flew and flew, finally finding an alley almost all the way back to the gallery that no-one seemed to be watching or occupying. He descended and detransformed, a wave of exhaustion flooding him as the extra energy he had as Captain wore off, and everything he had done caught up with him. Nevermind that though, he had to get back to Cress. He immediately started heading back in that direction, but was soon stopped by emergency personnel.

"Where are you coming from?"

"The gallery, I need to find my wife-"

"You need to get checked out by our med-team," The officer countered.

"But my wife, she was-"

"We'll find her sir, but you look like you're about to collapse. Don't worry, we've got people all over the city."

"I don't need to be checked out, I need to find my wife, she is out there all alone, and I need to find her and make sure she's ok!" Thorne, starting to panic at not being able to immediately return to Cress, struggled, but worn out as he was from the nights events, the officer easily subdued him and guided him into the tent.

"I promise you we will do everything we can to find her," the officer said. "Can you describe her and where you last saw her?"

Thorne gaped up at the man in shock, before numbly describing Cress and what she had been wearing. The officer repeated the information into his radio and the med team soon descended.

"Everything will feel better in just a moment," a nurse said, hanging an IV bag. "We've got to get some fluids back into you.

Thorne lay back at their urging, closing his eyes for just a moment. He couldn't stay long, they'd flag him as a lunar, and that would not be good. That wouldn't be good at all…

Thorne bolted upright in the bed. He didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but it was still dark outside. Chaos still seemed to reign, so it seemed like it hadn't been that long. He took a deep breath, taking stock. He felt much better. Whatever they'd put in him, he felt almost back to normal. Wincing, he pulled the IV from his arm and slipped from the bed. He managed to avoid the nurses who were very clearly overwhelmed with the scale of this event, and disappeared into the night. He had a wife that still needed him, and he could only hope that he wasn't too late.

KC