Echoes of Redemption
Ch. 13 – Pancakes, Federal Workers
As the group therapy session wrapped up and the former villains filtered out of the building, Amanda, Claire, Ace, Snake, and Jojo walked in quiet solidarity. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the parking lot, but the weight of the day's events felt far heavier than the approaching night.
Claire felt a lingering pressure in her chest, a mix of emotions she couldn't quite shake. The air outside was cooler than she had expected, but it did little to calm the frustration bubbling inside her. She exhaled sharply, trying to release some of the tension, but it only seemed to intensify the frustration she was holding in.
Breaking the silence, Claire spoke up, her voice carrying a touch of frustration. "The current villains had nothing to say about our successful stories, especially Duplikate…" She shook her head, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "It's like they don't even care about how far we've come. They're stuck in their own worlds, still blinded by whatever darkness they're trapped in. It's like they couldn't even be bothered to acknowledge what we've all been through."
Ace, walking alongside Claire, let out a low chuckle, though his tone was tinged with weariness. "Yeah, I noticed that too. It's like they're still stuck on who we used to be, not who we are now. But honestly, that's their issue, right? They're still fighting with their own demons while we're over here trying to make something real out of our lives."
Amanda, usually more reserved, seemed to consider Claire's words carefully before responding. "They're probably just not ready to hear it, Claire," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Some of them are still too deep in their own struggles to understand that change is possible. It's easier for them to dismiss us than to confront their own failures."
Jojo, who had been unusually quiet until now, added, "I get what you mean, Claire. It's frustrating, but maybe we need to accept that not everyone's going to be on the same page. Duplikate's attitude, for example? It's a defense mechanism. She's trying to hold onto that power, that control. If she acknowledges our success, she has to admit that it's possible for her too—and maybe she's not ready for that yet. Not everyone's gonna be able to see the progress we've made, and that's okay."
Claire paused, taking in Jojo's words. They resonated more than she expected. She knew he had his own issues with seeing others succeed, especially when it felt like his own path had been full of missteps. But the way he spoke now—it was clear he had come a long way from the villainous persona he once wore so tightly. Maybe there was something to be said for letting go of the frustration.
Snake, who had been walking beside them, spoke up with a hint of a smile. "Look, we can't control how othersss react. Some people will alwaysss be ssstuck in their own worldsss, focusssed on their own problemsss. But we don't have to let that stop usss from moving forward. We've all made it this far, and that's a victory in itself. If they can't sssee it, then it's on them—not usss."
Claire nodded slowly, her frustration beginning to fade into a more manageable feeling. She didn't want to let the indifference of the current villains ruin the strides they had made. "You're right," she said softly. "We've come a long way. And maybe, eventually, they'll see it. But it's not for us to wait for their approval."
Amanda placed a hand on Claire's shoulder, her touch grounding. "Exactly. We've earned this. We're not waiting for anyone to validate our progress. We did it for ourselves, and that's what matters."
Ace gave Claire a teasing grin. "And besides, if Duplikate wants to stay stuck in her own world, that's on her. We're out here living our lives, one step at a time. Let her stay in her little corner."
The group fell into a comfortable silence as they reached their cars, the weight of the day slowly lifting. Claire, though still processing her thoughts, felt the anger inside her start to dissipate. She realized that, despite the lack of acknowledgment from the current villains, their journey—her journey—was hers to define. They had all come a long way, and no one could take that away from them.
As she climbed into her car and started the engine, Claire couldn't help but smile. Maybe the others hadn't been ready to hear it, but that didn't change the fact that they were no longer the people they once were. They were moving forward—on their own terms. And that was more than enough for her.
Claire smiled as she adjusted her jacket, feeling the frustration of the day start to slip away. "Hey, how about we all wear pajamas and grab dinner at the Silver Diner?" she suggested, her tone lifting. "My boyfriend, Concord, invited us. He's saving us a spot."
She paused for a moment, her expression softening as she added, "Arturo won't be able to make it tonight, though. He's got an evening class he couldn't skip." She shrugged it off, clearly not bothered. "But it'll still be fun. Pajamas and diner food. What do you think?"
Her voice rang with excitement as she glanced around at her friends. "Alright, let's meet at the Silver Diner in Ballston at 7 PM!" Claire announced, her grin spreading. "It's the perfect chance to unwind—pajamas, comfort food, and just a bit of fun after all that serious stuff."
Amanda immediately perked up. "Sounds perfect. I'm already picturing myself in my comfiest PJs with a milkshake in hand."
Ace smirked, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands. "Pajamas, huh? You guys are making it sound way more fun than I expected."
Snake gave a half-smile, crossing his arms. "I'm in. Doesssn't matter if I'm in sweatsss or not. Let'sss go."
Jojo, who had been quieter until now, looked up with a grin that matched the excitement in the room. "I'm down for that! Dinner in pajamas? Burgers and fries here I come!"
Claire laughed, feeling the tension from earlier melt away with the shared energy. "Great! It's a plan then. See you all there at 7."
With that, they all went their separate ways, each of them looking forward to a much-needed break from the weight of the group sessions. Claire's heart felt lighter as she walked to her car, the thought of good food and even better company making the day seem less heavy. Sometimes, all you needed was a cozy meal in pajamas to turn everything around. The Silver Diner was about to be the perfect spot for just that.
At the Silver Diner in Ballston, near Arlington, Virginia, Claire and her friends gathered for a much-needed break from their intense group sessions. The familiar hum of conversation and clinking of silverware filled the air, but the group stood out in their mismatched, comfortable outfits, ready to unwind in style.
Claire was the first to walk in, her gray "UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA" sweatshirt slightly wrinkled, paired with faded "LOVE PINK" sweatpants that had seen better days. Her worn black Columbia fleece jacket hung loosely on her shoulders, and she shuffled in knockoff Ugg slippers that made little noise against the diner's checkered floors. A cream "Madewell" tote bag hung casually over her shoulder, her blonde hair hastily pulled into a messy bun. She looked effortlessly relaxed, with a sense of ease that matched her comfortable attire.
Concord, standing by her side, was dressed in his navy blue "GEORGE WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY" sweatshirt, paired with navy plaid pajama pants and tan Birkenstock Boston clogs. His casual yet trendy look mirrored Claire's laid-back vibe, and his relaxed demeanor suggested he was ready to enjoy a peaceful evening with her and the group.
Jojo trailed closely behind, clad in a gray Nike hoodie sweatshirt, maroon Virginia Tech pajama pants, and white Crocs. Yet, it was his exposed brain and the navy blue The North Face backpack that made it clear he was far from ordinary.
Amanda entered next, swaddled in a gray oversized blanket hooded sweatshirt that seemed to swallow her whole. Her gray-and-white checkered pajama pants flowed over her chestnut Ugg slippers, and her dark brown hair was hastily pulled into a messy bun. She looked like she had just rolled out of bed, and in a way, she had—but it was the kind of laid-back, cozy vibe everyone could get behind.
Ace strolled in with a confident, almost effortless air, his gray hooded sweatshirt bearing the words "POTOMAC BASEBALL" across the front and "COPULAR" emblazoned on the back. His black-and-white buffalo plaid pajama pants added a fun, casual touch, and his black Birkenstock clogs clacked softly with each step. The dangling iPhone and Juul in his hands were a testament to his laid-back nature, as though he had zero cares in the world.
Finally, Snake entered with a cool, almost mysterious presence. Dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt that contrasted sharply with his Stanford Cardinals Ledger Black Gray Pajama Pants, he looked every bit the relaxed student with a purpose. His black Vans SK8-Hi sneakers clicked against the floor, and his cream canvas tote bag, emblazoned with "Stanford, Stanford, Stanford, Stanford," was the perfect mix of functional and stylish.
The group took their seats at the long diner table, the familiar comfort of friends and good food grounding them as they settled in. The restaurant was buzzing with energy, but within their corner, the focus was on laughter, comfort, and the rare opportunity to enjoy a relaxed evening together. Each person had their own unique style, yet they all shared a sense of camaraderie, a bond forged through their shared experiences.
As they all settled into their seats, Claire glanced around the table and smiled, excited to introduce her boyfriend to the group. The casual chatter slowed down as her friends noticed her enthusiasm.
"Hey, everyone," Claire began, her voice warm and welcoming. "This is Concord, my boyfriend." She gestured to him with a small nod, her eyes glinting with affection.
Concord, looking just as relaxed in his navy "GEORGE WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY" sweatshirt and plaid pajama pants, gave a friendly wave and a grin. "Hey, nice to meet all of you," he said, his tone easygoing, just like his outfit. He looked at Claire, then back at her friends, as if he was already comfortable in their presence.
"Concord's been really supportive through everything," Claire added, her smile softening. "I thought it'd be nice for you all to meet him outside of the therapy sessions. He's saving us a spot here, so it's on him tonight."
Amanda, ever the social one, gave him a warm smile. "Nice to meet you, Concord. You're lucky, they're a fun crowd."
Jojo, ever the playful one, leaned forward, his exposed brain catching the light. "Nice to meet you, man. Claire's pretty awesome, so you've got good taste."
Ace raised an eyebrow but gave Concord a nod of approval. "Yeah, welcome to the crew, man."
Snake gave a small, respectful nod, offering a rare but genuine smile. "Glad to have you, Concord."
Claire's smile widened as she took a seat, her eyes lingering on Concord for just a second longer than usual. It felt good to be with him here, surrounded by her friends, sharing a moment of normalcy away from the complexities of their pasts.
They walked into the diner, the warm aroma of sizzling food filling the air, instantly lifting their spirits. As soon as the door swung open, the familiar clink of silverware and the low hum of conversation momentarily paused. The cozy atmosphere of the Silver Diner seemed to embrace them, with its classic neon lights casting a soft glow on the mismatched booths and vintage décor.
Behind the counter, Ahmed, the friendly waiter with a perpetual smile, immediately spotted Claire and waved. His eyes brightened as he called out, "Hey! Looks like a full crew tonight!"
Claire grinned and waved back. "Seven for the table," she replied smoothly, her voice as warm as the diner's ambiance. She was practically glowing with ease, clearly at home in the setting.
As Claire led the group toward the table, Concord slipped his hand into hers, squeezing gently, while the others followed suit, finding their places in the booth. The laughter and chatter quickly resumed around them as they settled in.
Concord inquired, "How did the group therapy session go today?"
Claire leaned back in her seat, her fingers drumming lightly on the edge of her water glass. She glanced at Concord before responding, her tone a little more thoughtful than usual. "It was... intense," she said, the weight of the day's session still lingering in her voice. "It's always eye-opening, hearing everyone's stories, but sometimes it feels like we're still stuck in this cycle of pain and shame. Like, we're all trying to move forward, but it's hard when some of the current villains still can't see how far we've come."
Jojo, who had been sipping on his Zero Sugar Coca-Cola, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's like they don't even get what we've been through. Some of them still think we're just... bad people, and that's it. Like the mistakes we made define us forever," he added, his eyes narrowing slightly as he thought back to the session.
Snake, who had been quiet up until now, shifted in his seat and spoke up, his voice steady but with a hint of frustration. "I get it. It'sss like they're ssstill ssstuck in their own mess and aren't ready to face what it takesss to really change. Like, they don't sssee the effort we've put in to get to where we are now."
Amanda, who had been fiddling with the straw in her milkshake, chimed in with a soft laugh. "I don't think we'll ever be able to convince them, though. Some people just want to stay in the darkness. They don't want to face their past, let alone admit they can change."
Concord, looking around at everyone, gave a small, knowing smile. "It sounds like you're all moving in the right direction, though. I mean, look at you—out of that place and making progress every day. Not everyone gets to say that. You've all fought through so much. And honestly, if those guys can't see that, well, that's on them."
Claire smiled at Concord, the warmth from his support washing over her. "Yeah, you're right. I guess it's just hard to keep reminding ourselves how far we've come when they still see us as the people we used to be."
There was a brief silence as everyone reflected on their journey, the comfort of the diner and the presence of good friends softening the weight of the day's struggles.
"I guess," Claire added with a chuckle, "It helps that we have each other to keep pushing forward, right?"
Everyone nodded, some offering quiet smiles. The feeling of camaraderie was palpable. Even though the road ahead was still challenging, it felt a little more bearable with the group by her side.
Claire paused and said, "Concord... Ace and I got accepted to George Washington University, and we both received full-ride scholarships through the residential treatment program for Townsville's villains. It's such a huge step for us—starting fresh, with a chance to build a real future, away from all the chaos. I still can't believe it's happening."
Concord's eyes widened, and a proud smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he leaned forward, clearly excited by the news. "Wait, really? That's amazing! Full ride scholarships? You guys are going to George Washington University?" he asked, his voice filled with admiration.
Claire nodded, her smile growing as she saw the genuine excitement in Concord's eyes. "Yeah, it's still surreal to me. It feels like everything we've worked for is finally coming together." She glanced over at Ace, who gave a small, humble nod in agreement.
Ace, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. "It's still kind of crazy to think about, you know? I never imagined I'd get a chance like this, especially after everything. But Dr. Kutz really came through for us."
Concord gave a slow, appreciative nod, clearly proud of them. "I've seen the way you two have worked, how far you've come. I'm not surprised at all. You both deserve this." He paused, as if processing the full weight of the news. "George Washington University, huh? That's incredible. What are you going to study there?"
Claire's smile softened as she replied, "I'm planning to study psychology. After everything, I think I want to help people—especially those who've been through what we have. And Ace…" she glanced over at him. "He's thinking about a double major in something related to criminal justice."
Ace shrugged but couldn't hide the pride in his eyes. "Yeah, I've been thinking about it. It just feels like the right path for me. Maybe I'll work with at-risk youth or something. I don't know, still figuring it out."
Concord looked at them both with admiration, clearly impressed. "That's really incredible, you guys. And to think, you both were once in the residential treatment program for Townsville's villains. Now you're going to one of the best universities in the country."
Claire's eyes flickered with a mix of emotion, remembering everything that had led her here. "It hasn't been easy. We've all had to face some really dark times, but somehow, we've managed to turn it around. It's like we're rewriting our stories, you know?"
Jojo, who had been listening intently, added with a smile, "Yeah, it's proof that no matter where you start, you can always change the direction you're headed. You guys are living proof of that."
Snake, who had been quiet for a while, leaned back in his chair, a small grin playing on his lips. "You've both come a long way. I'm proud of you. Really."
The conversation shifted to other things, but the feeling of accomplishment and hope lingered in the air. Claire couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected support system she had built around her. And, more than ever, she was ready to take the next step in her journey—alongside her friends, with Concord's encouragement, and the full support of the future they were now building together.
Claire leaned in, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Concord, tell me about your introduction to us. What was it like when you first got involved with this group?"
Concord paused, his expression thoughtful as he took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Well," he began, his voice calm but filled with layers of experience, "I was born in Rockville, Maryland. I grew up there until my family moved to Falls Church, Virginia, when my dad got a new job. I finished high school in Falls Church, graduating in 2011." He smiled, a slight nostalgia in his voice. "It wasn't a bad place to grow up, you know? Pretty suburban. Quiet."
Claire leaned in a little closer, sensing there was more to the story.
"After high school, I went to George Washington University. I studied Public Administration. I guess I've always been into systems, how things run—or don't run, depending on who you ask," he chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I wanted to make a difference, you know? Help things work better. So, I went to college and eventually got a steady job as a federal worker in Washington, D.C. I had a nice apartment in Southwest D.C., got my paychecks on time, and thought I was set. Everything seemed... normal, even good."
He paused, his smile fading slightly as he continued. "But then everything changed. Around the time Trump came into office and Musk started shaking things up, they made these budget cuts. The government started firing federal workers left and right—me included. All that stability I thought I had? Gone in a flash. I lost my job, my apartment, everything. It was... a wake-up call, honestly."
Concord's eyes darkened for a moment as he recalled the difficult transition. "I moved back in with my parents. It wasn't ideal, but it was what I had to do. That's when I had to reassess. I wasn't sure where to go, what to do next. Eventually, I ended up at the Apple Store at Tysons Corner Center. It wasn't glamorous, but it was steady. And I learned a lot, about technology, about people. The kind of work that had my back in ways my federal job never had."
Claire nodded, empathizing with his journey. "That sounds like a tough transition, but also like you found a way to keep moving forward despite everything."
Concord smiled, though there was a touch of sadness in it. "Yeah, it wasn't easy. But you learn to roll with the punches. And you also learn what really matters—what makes you happy, what gives you purpose. I think that's when I really started figuring things out."
Claire leaned back in her seat, her thoughts running deeper now. "So, what led you to us?"
Concord's smile softened as he thought back. "Well, after a lot of thinking and even more soul-searching, I realized I wanted to do something different. I didn't want to just be part of a system anymore. I wanted to help people, especially people who've been through some real struggles. That's when I started meeting folks like you. I think we all have something in common: we've all faced a lot of hardship, and we've all had to rebuild ourselves in one way or another. That's when I knew I wanted to be here, to help—whether it was offering advice, being a friend, or just providing a space for people to get out of their own heads."
Claire smiled at him, her respect for Concord growing. "I think you're exactly where you're supposed to be."
Concord grinned, his eyes lighting up. "I hope so. And thanks, Claire. I really do appreciate the chance to be here, with all of you."
Ahmed, the waiter, approached the table with a friendly smile, his notepad ready. "What can I get you all to eat tonight?" he asked, his tone upbeat as he glanced at each of them.
Jojo looked up from his phone, flashing a grin. "I'll have a hamburger with fries," he said, putting his phone down and folding his hands.
Claire, already thinking about her comfort food choice, gave a quick nod. "I'll have the buttermilk pancakes and eggs, with turkey bacon, please."
Concord, who had been scrolling through his phone as well, added, "Same for me, but with regular bacon."
Amanda, looking content as she sat back in her seat, thought for a moment before making her choice. "Grilled Cheese Classic Combo," she said, smiling at the simplicity of it.
Ace, who had been fiddling with his phone, looked up and raised an eyebrow. "I'll go with the hamburger too. But can you swap the regular buns with gluten-free buns?" he asked, tapping his fingers on the table.
Snake, who had been quietly sipping his water, finally spoke up. "Yeah, I'll take a hamburger with fries," he said, his tone calm and straightforward.
Ahmed nodded as he wrote everything down. "Got it. One hamburger with fries, one gluten-free hamburger, two pancakes and eggs, one grilled cheese, and one regular hamburger. I'll get that right out for you," he said, giving a nod of acknowledgment before walking away to place the order.
As he left, Claire leaned back in her seat, her mind still buzzing from the earlier conversation. "This is exactly what I needed," she murmured, her mood lightening at the thought of indulging in comfort food and spending time with her friends.
Claire leaned back in her seat, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she glanced around the table. "I remember when we were first admitted at the residential treatment program," she began, her voice filled with a hint of nostalgia. "Ace requested gluten-free food right off the bat. I thought it was kind of funny at the time, but looking back, it was one of those things that made me realize how much we were all still figuring things out."
Ace shrugged casually, a small grin spreading across his face. "What can I say? Gotta take care of the important stuff first," he said with a playful wink.
Claire laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, but it wasn't just the gluten-free request. It was the little things, like how we all came in here thinking we had it all together, and yet we were so... lost in our own ways." She looked at her friends, her eyes softening. "It feels like ages ago, but in reality, it's been less than a year. We've all changed so much."
Amanda, who had been quietly listening, nodded thoughtfully. "It's wild how much progress we've made. I mean, we were literally villains in our own worlds, and now we're here, eating pancakes in pajamas, sharing stories like we're friends."
"Yeah," Jojo chimed in, his usual grin appearing on his face. "And to think I used to plot to take over the world, and now I'm just here for the burgers."
Ace chuckled and raised his glass. "Yeah, funny how life turns out."
Claire smiled warmly, her gaze lingering on each of them. "But seriously, I think that's what's amazing. We've all come a long way, and now we're looking at a future that's different from the one we thought we'd have. And even though we've had our fair share of battles, we're still here, still making it through."
With a sense of camaraderie in the air, they all nodded in agreement. The food would soon arrive, but it was the warmth of the moment that they'd all remember most. They'd faced their darkest times together, and now they were sharing something simple and pure—friendship, growth, and the promise of a better tomorrow.
After a relaxed dinner with the group of former villains and Concord, the night began to wind down. Snake drove back to McLean, Virginia, the car's engine humming steadily through the streets, the rhythmic sound lulling him into a quiet contemplation. Meanwhile, Amanda, Claire, and Concord made their way to the nearby metro station, their footsteps echoing on the pavement as they chatted and laughed, each of them still buzzing from the conversation.
Professor Utonium had picked Jojo up from the Silver Diner earlier, offering a warm smile as Jojo climbed into the car, still distracted by his phone. The two of them drove off into the night, the distant city lights painting the streets as they headed home.
Ace, however, had a different destination in mind. He drove to Maple View Flats in Navy Yard, a place that had been his home for the last three years, shared with Murdoc. The building loomed in front of him as he parked and grabbed his keys. As he made his way to the entrance of the building, he felt a knot in his stomach—a strange sense of unease that he couldn't shake.
He reached Murdoc's apartment door, keys in hand, only to freeze in his tracks. His eyes widened. His belongings—clothes, some personal items—were scattered haphazardly outside the door. His heart skipped a beat as he stood there, trying to process the sight before him. His stuff was all over the ground, thrown out like it didn't matter.
Confused and angry, Ace slowly pushed the door open, the creaking sound of the hinges seeming louder than usual in the tense silence. He walked inside, his voice laced with frustration. "Murdoc. Why did you throw my stuff away?"
A few seconds passed before Murdoc's voice, calm and dismissive, floated from the living room. "Oh, look who's finally back," he said, a smirk in his tone. "Didn't think you'd show up so soon."
Ace's chest tightened. He turned the corner to see Murdoc lounging on the couch, cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers, his legs stretched out, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
"You've got some nerve," Ace muttered, stepping further into the apartment, his gaze flicking to the scattered mess outside. "What the hell happened? Why is all my shit out there?"
Murdoc took a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke swirling around him as he leaned back, seemingly unfazed. "I figured you'd be fine. You always think you've got it all figured out, right?" Murdoc's lips curled into a smug smile. "Not everything can stay neat and pretty, mate. You've got to learn to deal with a little chaos."
Ace's fists clenched at his sides. His head buzzed with anger, but he tried to keep his voice steady. "Chaos? Murdoc, this isn't just 'chaos.' This is disrespect. You can't just throw my things away like I mean nothing to you. We've lived together for months, and you think you can just… toss me aside like that?"
Murdoc exhaled a puff of smoke and leaned forward, his eyes cold and calculating. "You think I don't have my own problems? You think I wanted you here in the first place? You're always so wrapped up in your own drama, Ace. Sometimes, you just get in the way." He waved his hand dismissively, as if it were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
Ace's jaw tightened, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. "This is low, even for you," he said, his voice quieter now, but still sharp. "I'm not your punching bag. Not anymore. If you had a problem with me, you should've just said something. You didn't have to throw my life out onto the streets."
Murdoc let out a dry laugh. "I figured this was inevitable. You never really fit in, Ace. You were just too—too soft, too easy to mess with." He flicked his cigarette into an ashtray, eyes narrowing. "Maybe it's time you found your own place. It's not my problem anymore."
Ace stood there for a moment, the weight of Murdoc's words sinking in. He didn't know whether to be angry or to just walk away. This wasn't the first time Murdoc had pushed his limits, but tonight felt different. Something had shifted between them, something Ace couldn't ignore.
He stared at Murdoc one last time before turning on his heel, walking out of the apartment and slamming the door behind him. The hallway was quiet, the only sound his own footsteps echoing against the cold walls.
As Ace stood outside in the still night air, the frustration boiled over, but it wasn't just about his things. It was about Murdoc's refusal to respect him, to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, things had changed between them. Ace wasn't the same person he used to be, and he was starting to realize that maybe it was time to stop allowing Murdoc to walk all over him.
With a deep breath, Ace headed for the elevator, the weight of the evening settling in. He knew he couldn't go back to the way things were—not after this. The question was, where would he go now? What was his next move?
After the tense confrontation with Murdoc, Ace walked out of the apartment, feeling the weight of the situation press down on him. He didn't know where else to turn. His mind raced as he stood outside the building, his phone in his hand. He couldn't stay at Murdoc's place anymore—that much was clear. But where could he go? He didn't have many options. His mother was still in New York, and his father, well, he'd never really been a reliable option in the first place.
In a moment of frustration, Ace unlocked his phone and started a FaceTime call. The screen lit up with the faces of Claire, Amanda, Snake, Jojo, and Concord, all of them appearing one by one. They greeted him, but Ace's face fell into a familiar, frustrated expression.
"Guys," Ace's voice cracked, betraying the anger and sadness boiling beneath his calm exterior. "I got kicked out by Murdoc… I don't have anywhere to go tonight."
There was a stunned silence on the other end of the call. Claire's expression softened instantly.
"What happened?" Claire asked gently, concern flooding her voice.
Ace wiped a hand across his face, trying to collect his thoughts. "I—he threw all my stuff out. Just… dumped it outside the door. I don't know what the hell's going on with him, but I'm done. I can't live there anymore." His voice faltered again, his shoulders slumping. "I have nowhere else to go tonight. My mom's still in New York, and my estranged dad… well, he's been out of the picture for years."
Amanda frowned, her eyes flicking to the others on the call. "That's messed up, Ace. I can't believe Murdoc would do that."
"I can," Snake chimed in, his voice steady but laced with sympathy. "That guy'sss a piece of work. But hey, you've got usss. You don't have to deal with this alone."
Jojo, who had been quiet for a moment, spoke up from the background, "We'll figure something out. You're not sleeping on the streets, Ace."
Concord added his voice to the conversation, looking serious. "You can crash with me, if you need. I've got room at my place in Falls Church. It's not far from here. No one's gonna leave you hanging."
Ace was silent for a moment, the weight of it all sinking in. He stared down at his phone, the faces of his friends offering a sense of relief, something he hadn't felt all evening.
"Thanks, man," Ace finally said, his voice a little more stable now. "I... I didn't know what to do. You guys really mean a lot right now."
Claire smiled softly through the screen. "We've got your back. You don't have to do this alone. We'll figure this out together, okay?"
Ace nodded, his heart lifting just a little as he looked around at the faces of his friends. For the first time tonight, he didn't feel so lost. He knew he wasn't alone anymore, and that meant more than anything. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, guys."
Amanda leaned forward, her voice warmer. "No problem, Ace. We're family, right?"
"Yeah, we are," Ace agreed quietly. "I'm lucky to have you all."
The call ended with a few words of reassurance, and Ace sat there for a moment, looking out into the dimly lit streets of Navy Yard. He had a place to stay tonight, and maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something better. A fresh start, far from the chaos of his past.
The next morning, Ace found himself parked outside Concord's parents' house, his breath shaky as he sat in his car, black 2012 Hyundai Sonata. The quiet of the morning contrasted sharply with the restlessness he felt in his chest. He wasn't used to asking for help—not this kind of help. His life had been full of ups and downs, and asking to stay in someone else's home, even temporarily, was a huge step. But he had nowhere else to go.
He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to calm himself down. The weight of everything—the breakup with Murdoc, the isolation, the confusion—felt like it was crushing him. He exhaled slowly, and with a deep breath, he stepped out of the car, his shoes crunching on the gravel as he walked toward the door.
The house in front of him was quiet, warm, and unfamiliar. He hadn't yet met Concord's parents, and while the idea of staying here felt like a relief, it also made him feel out of place. But there was no turning back now. He had no choice.
Ace raised his hand to knock, hesitated, and then rang the doorbell. A few moments passed, and the door swung open. Standing in the doorway was Concord's mother, Debra. She had a welcoming smile, but there was a softness in her gaze that Ace couldn't ignore. It felt... genuine. It made him feel more nervous, not less.
"Hi, Ace," she said, her voice kind and light. "Concord mentioned you'd be coming by. I wasn't expecting you so soon, but it's good to see you."
Ace hesitated for a second, not quite sure how to respond. He shuffled his feet awkwardly, trying to mask how uncomfortable he was. "Yeah, sorry to show up like this. I hope it's alright that I came over."
Debra smiled wider, her eyes softening. "Of course it's okay. You're always welcome here. Come on in, we're just getting started with breakfast."
"Thanks," Ace mumbled, stepping over the threshold into the warmth of the house. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and something sweet wafted through the air, instantly making him feel more at ease—at least a little. It was the kind of warmth that reminded him of a time when things felt more stable, before everything spiraled out of control.
"Concord's in the living room," Debra said as she motioned towards the hallway. "Let me get you something to drink. Coffee? Tea? Or... something stronger if you need it."
Ace glanced toward the living room, where he saw Concord sitting on the couch, a concerned look in his eyes as he waited for Ace to join him. He could tell Concord was worried—about everything, about Ace—and he didn't know how to feel about it. A part of him was grateful for the gesture, but another part felt like he was intruding.
"I'll take coffee, if that's okay," Ace said, his voice quieter than usual.
"Of course," Debra said, already moving toward the kitchen. "I'll be right back. Make yourself at home."
Ace shuffled into the living room, his heart pounding in his chest. Concord was already standing up, pushing a few things off the coffee table to make space for Ace. As soon as Ace sat down, Concord settled beside him, his eyes focused on Ace with a quiet understanding.
"You doing okay?" Concord asked, his voice low, though the concern in his eyes was evident.
Ace sighed deeply and leaned back on the couch, running a hand through his messy hair. "I don't know," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "Everything's just falling apart, man. I don't even know what I'm doing anymore."
Concord sat beside him, not pushing, just waiting for Ace to speak. He had always been good at that—just listening. "I get it," he said gently, looking at Ace with understanding. "But you don't need to have everything figured out right now. You've got a place to stay. And we'll get through this together, okay?"
Ace nodded, though his eyes stayed fixed on the floor. He felt like a burden, but at the same time, he didn't want to be alone. "Thanks, Concord," he said softly. "I really didn't know where else to go."
Just then, Debra returned from the kitchen, holding a steaming mug of coffee. She handed it to Ace with a smile, then took a seat across from him. "You're safe here, Ace," she said, her voice warm. "I know it's hard, but you don't have to go through all of this by yourself. You've got people here who care about you."
Ace looked up at her, his throat tight. He didn't know how to say what he was feeling, but the gratitude was there. "Thanks, Mrs. Stinson," he said quietly. "I really appreciate this."
Concord leaned back on the couch, his gaze steady but comforting. "You've got friends now, Ace," he said, his voice low but firm. "We've got your back, no matter what. This is just a bump in the road. You'll figure it out."
Ace let out a long breath, feeling the weight in his chest start to ease. For the first time in a while, he felt like he wasn't completely alone. Maybe, just maybe, he was in the right place to start putting things back together.
A few moments of silence passed before Ace finally broke the stillness. "Concord, Mrs. Stinson," he said with a small but genuine smile, "I'll buy my own gluten-free food for my dietary restrictions. I've learned the hard way to be careful with what I eat. It's no big deal, really. I just wanted to let you know." He shrugged slightly, trying to brush off the awkwardness of the situation.
Debra smiled warmly at him. "You don't need to worry about that, Ace. You're family here."
Ace nodded slowly, feeling a little more at ease. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he had a real chance at making things right.
Later that day, Rob stood at the front of the therapy room, adjusting the chairs with meticulous care. He aligned each one, making sure they were evenly spaced in a perfect circle. He adjusted the seat of one particular chair a bit too obsessively, ensuring it was exactly where it needed to be. His eyes flicked to the time on his Apple Watch, and for a brief moment, he broke the fourth wall. Muttering under his breath, he said, "Another day, another therapy session." His voice held a dry resignation, almost as if the routine had long worn him thin, but there was a touch of dark humor in it. Working with villains was never dull, but it certainly had its moments.
With the room now ready, Rob straightened up, taking a deep breath as he glanced over the attendance chart clipped to his clipboard. He could already hear the soft murmur of voices and the shuffle of feet outside the door as the first few villains began to trickle in. Some had been here before, others were new faces, but the personalities that filled the space were always… memorable. Rob braced himself for the usual mix of egos, contradictions, and unresolved issues. This wasn't going to be an easy group session, but then again, when was it?
"Princess Morbucks?" Rob called, glancing up from the list.
"Here," came the crisp reply from the corner of the room. Princess Morbucks entered, wearing a pristine private school uniform, her posture rigid with an air of superiority. She took a seat with an audible sigh, clearly unimpressed with the situation.
"Amanda?" Rob asked, looking around again.
"Here," came Sedusa's cool response. She entered with the grace of someone accustomed to being in control, dressed in a white buttoned shirt, black dress pants, and black flats, her expression unreadable.
"Ace?" Rob continued, his eyes scanning the room.
"Here," Ace drawled, his voice lazy, as usual. He slouched into the room dressed in a gray hoodie with "POTOMAC BASEBALL" across the front and "COPULAR" emblazoned on the back. His yellow and navy flannel pajama pants, paired with his old Vans Old Skool sneakers, completed the look of someone who couldn't be bothered to put in any more effort. His iPhone and Juul dangled from his hands as if they were extensions of himself.
"Arturo?" Rob asked, still checking the attendance chart.
"Aquí," came the thickly accented reply. Arturo shuffled in slowly, dressed in a black hoodie, red pajama pants decorated with white snowflakes, and black Crocs. His tired eyes scanned the room before he found his seat.
"Big Billy?" Rob asked, steeling himself for the inevitable.
"HERE!" Big Billy bellowed, his voice booming through the room as he burst through the door, his enthusiasm uncontainable. He wore a blue Cookie Monster graphic tee, dark blue jeans, and white/navy Avia Quickstep sneakers from Walmart. His loud personality matched his even louder presence.
"Grubber?" Rob called out, mentally preparing for whatever response would come.
"Here," Grubber replied in his usual monotone. He entered, his shoulders hunched as usual, dressed in a navy blue sweater, tan twill pants, and tan Chelsea ankle boots, his gaze never quite meeting anyone else's.
"Snake?" Rob continued, though he could already feel the weight of the room shifting with Snake's presence.
"Here," Snake muttered, his brooding aura as heavy as ever. He wore a black hoodie, dark khaki Original Use Straight Leg Pull-On Carpenter Pants, and black Vans SK8-Hi sneakers. His eyes remained fixed on the floor, and he seemed to exude an aura of someone who preferred to be anywhere but here.
Rob paused for a beat before raising an eyebrow. "Snake, your braces are off…" he said, his voice dripping with a mix of surprise and amusement.
Snake barely looked up, but there was a hint of self-consciousness in his usually stoic expression. "Yeah," he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. "Got 'em removed earlier today. Happy now?" His tone was sharp, but there was something vulnerable underneath.
Rob gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Well, look at that. A new you." He wasn't sure if it was the braces or just the change in Snake's mood, but something seemed different. The quiet tension in the room deepened.
"Fuzzy Lumpkins?" Rob asked, his patience fraying just slightly.
"Here," Fuzzy Lumpkins grumbled, entering with his typical gruff demeanor. Dressed in his trademark denim overalls and a red "Make America Great Again" cap, he gave no effort to mask his disdain for the whole therapy process.
"Claire?" Rob asked, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the room.
"Here," Claire answered, her voice a little more subdued than usual. She looked slightly disheveled, wearing a faded navy "UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA" sweatshirt, medium vintage wash Strigid Curvy Mom jeans from American Eagle, and white Puma Mayze Classic sneakers. Her blonde hair was hastily pulled back into a jumbo hair claw, a few strands escaping as she ran a hand through it.
"Harold Smith?" Rob asked, scanning the room once more.
"Here," Harold mumbled, barely audible. His eyes were half-closed as he shuffled into the room, dressed in a navy blue sweatshirt, blue jeans, and navy blue Skechers sneakers, his posture slumped as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
Rob took another moment to scan the room, noticing the mix of personalities, and then called out one last time. "And Jojo?"
"Here," Jojo replied, his voice light and clear despite the exposed brain floating above his head. He wore a navy blue Patagonia Retro Pile 1/4-Zip fleece sweatshirt, tan slim jeans, and White Adidas Ultraboost DNA 1.0 Sneakers, his Apple AirPods securely in place as he absentmindedly fiddled with his iPhone.
With the roll call completed, Rob gave a nod of acknowledgment to everyone, although his expression remained serious. "Alright, everyone, take your seats. Let's try to get through this session without too much drama today," he said, his voice a bit more resigned than usual, but it was the only way to get things started.
Rob stood up, his eyes scanning the room with a touch of concern. "Where is HIM?" he asked, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and slight frustration. The group had gathered, but there was one notable absence. HIM was never late, and that alone seemed to throw off the entire dynamic.
Before anyone could respond, the door swung open, and HIM entered the room with his signature presence. His outfit was unmistakable: a red jacket and skirt adorned with pink tulle at the collar and hemline, a black leather belt with a bronze buckle cinching the waist, and black thigh-high, spike-heeled boots that clicked sharply against the floor with each step. It was the type of ensemble that turned heads, commanding attention without even trying.
"Rob, I am sorry for being late," HIM purred, his voice smooth and dripping with an almost mocking sweetness. He walked over to the circle with an air of confidence, his gaze sweeping over the room before he lowered himself into the seat beside Rob.
As HIM settled into his chair, his eyes glided over the familiar faces of the group. He took note of their attire—or lack thereof—with a sharp, critical gaze. A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he observed the eclectic mix of mismatched outfits. The group, once a collection of carefully curated and menacing appearances, now looked more like a mismatched assortment of individuals who were trying to figure out who they were rather than what they once represented.
Ace was slouched in his old hoodie, his flannel pajama pants barely holding themselves up as they draped loosely over his sneakers. Fuzzy Lumpkins wore his trademark overalls, unbothered by the fact that he was in a therapy session. Princess Morbucks' pristine uniform was so polished it practically gleamed, and Grubber—always the dullest of the bunch—was dressed in his usual boring navy sweater and tan pants. Even Snake, who had once been a picture of dangerous intent, now wore casual streetwear with a brooding air of indifference.
HIM's eyes flicked from face to face, clearly unimpressed. He couldn't help but let out a quiet, dramatic sigh as he folded his hands delicately in his lap. "Well," he said, his voice dripping with judgment, "it seems some of you have lost your touch. What happened to the fearsome villains I once knew?"
His tone was almost teasing, yet beneath it was an undercurrent of disappointment—perhaps even disgust—that so many of them had settled into their new identities as mere shells of their former selves.
Rob cleared his throat, trying to maintain some semblance of control over the session. "Alright, HIM," he said, his tone tight but trying to remain neutral, "we're all here, and we're trying to make some progress. You're not the only one who's been through a lot. Let's try to keep the comments to a minimum, okay?"
HIM turned his gaze back to Rob, his smile widening slightly as if he were enjoying the challenge of being the most unpredictable one in the room. "Oh, I'm just getting started, darling," HIM replied sweetly, flicking a strand of hair over his shoulder in a flourish. "But very well, I'll try to be on my best behavior—at least for now."
The room fell into an uneasy silence as HIM leaned back in his chair, his eyes flicking from one face to another. The group was used to HIM's theatrics, but the unspoken tension in the air was palpable. Whatever had been brewing under the surface for so long was bound to surface now. Whether it was frustration, confusion, or even resentment, it was clear that this session was about to take an unexpected turn.
HIM leaned forward slightly, his sharp eyes glinting with amusement as he scanned the room. His gaze settled on Ace and Arturo, both of whom were clad in their mismatched pajamas, a clear departure from the usual intimidating outfits he was used to seeing from former villains.
"Why, Ace," HIM purred, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "and Arturo, do you two insist on wearing pajamas once again?" He made a show of looking them up and down, a smirk playing on his lips. "Are we attending a sleepover, or are we in a therapy session? I do hope you're not planning to use the bedsheet excuse for your lack of proper attire."
Ace shifted uncomfortably in his seat, tugging at the hem of his pajama pants. He wasn't sure how to respond, not wanting to feed HIM's teasing but also not willing to back down.
Arturo, sitting next to him, shot HIM an annoyed glance. "Maybe we're just comfortable," he muttered, crossing his arms defensively. "Not everyone needs to dress up for therapy. And it's not like we're here to impress anyone."
HIM chuckled darkly, enjoying the way his comment had gotten under their skin. "Oh, I'm not suggesting you dress for me, my dear Arturo. I was simply wondering why the 'fearsome villains' have taken to appearing as though they've just rolled out of bed." He leaned back, looking far too amused for anyone's comfort. "The pajamas—such a charming touch. How utterly... authentic."
Ace's gaze shifted uncomfortably, but he kept his mouth shut. He wasn't in the mood to engage with HIM, especially when the last thing he needed was to be mocked for something as trivial as his outfit.
Rob cleared his throat, stepping in to defuse the tension. "Alright, HIM," he said firmly, "we get it. But let's focus on why we're here. This is about progress, not wardrobe choices." His eyes briefly flickered over to Ace and Arturo, silently acknowledging that sometimes comfort was a coping mechanism.
HIM tilted his head, still smirking but deciding to let it go—for the moment. "Very well," he drawled, "but let's just say, the sight of you two in those outfits makes me wonder if perhaps you've given up on ever being truly terrifying again." His voice was light, playful even, but there was a biting undertone that made it clear he wasn't quite done poking fun.
Ace felt the sting of HIM's words but remained silent, unsure whether to challenge HIM's taunts or just let it go. He glanced briefly at Arturo, who seemed to be holding his ground with a stoic expression.
The rest of the group exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether to intervene or just let HIM have his moment of amusement. The session, which had started out as a chance for everyone to make some progress, was starting to feel like a delicate balancing act. And HIM, as always, was ready to push everyone to their limits.
Ace stood up, the familiar weight of his Juul in his hand, his jaw clenched as he scanned the room. "I need some fresh air," he said, his tone thick with irritation. "Got into a fight with my asshole roommate last night. I'm gonna step outside and smoke with my Juul."
He didn't wait for a response, already moving toward the door, his steps sharp and purposeful. The group exchanged uneasy glances, the tension in the air palpable. They were used to Ace's volatility, but there was a quiet understanding that sometimes, he needed space to deal with things in his own way.
Rob gave a short nod, his eyes following Ace as he disappeared through the door. He let out a soft sigh. "Anyone else need a break before we continue?" he asked, trying to steer the energy back into the session. But even he knew—Ace wasn't coming back until he was ready.
Claire stood up, her pink vape in hand, the sleek device glinting under the fluorescent lights. She gave the group a brief, somewhat apologetic look. "I'm going to smoke for 5 minutes, I'll be right back!" she said, her voice light but firm.
Without waiting for any responses, she headed toward the door, her footsteps echoing lightly on the floor. As she stepped out into the cool air, she took a deep breath, the soft hiss of the vape filling the silence. She wasn't trying to escape the session, not really. But sometimes, you just needed a moment to yourself to gather your thoughts.
Big Billy's deep voice echoed through the group therapy room as he leaned forward, his curiosity evident. "Why Ace and Claire cut?" he asked, his eyes bouncing between the group.
Rob, ever the professional, hesitated before responding. "Sometimes," he began, choosing his words carefully, "people need a moment to step away when things get overwhelming. Ace and Claire... they're working through their own stuff, just like everyone here. It's not about cutting off the group, but more about finding space to breathe."
Big Billy scratched his head, clearly still puzzled. "But why not just stay and talk like the rest of us?" he asked, his tone genuine, though a little confused by the idea of taking a break during a session.
"Everyone copes differently, Billy," Rob explained, his voice calm and reassuring. "Some people need to process in their own way. It doesn't mean they're not part of the group or that they're not listening. It's just... a different approach to handling emotions."
Big Billy nodded slowly, his eyes still tracking the empty door where Claire had just exited. "Big Billy gets it," he muttered, though his face still carried a hint of confusion.
Rob gave him an understanding look, relieved that Billy seemed to be processing it. "Exactly. And that's why we're all here—to figure out how we can manage things better, together or apart when we need it."
The room fell into a moment of quiet contemplation, as everyone reflected on the idea that sometimes, space was just as important as connection.
Outside the building, the cool air brushed against Claire's face as she stepped out, her pink vape resting loosely in her hand. She spotted Ace leaning against a nearby wall, his eyes fixed on the sky, the thin cloud of vapor from his Juul curling in the air. She hesitated for a moment, watching him, then took a few steps closer.
"Ace?" Claire called out, her voice a little softer than usual, unsure of how to break the silence that seemed to stretch between them.
Ace didn't turn around immediately. He took another slow drag from his Juul, letting the vapor hang in the air before exhaling. Then, after a beat, he finally looked over his shoulder at Claire. "Yeah?" he said, his voice a little rough, like he hadn't quite shaken off the frustration from earlier.
Claire took a step closer, glancing at the Juul in his hand before meeting his eyes. "Everything okay? You seemed pretty pissed off back there," she asked, her tone carefully neutral but with a touch of concern.
Ace gave a half shrug, leaning his head back against the wall. "I just needed a minute," he said, his eyes flickering toward the sky. "Fighting with Murdoc was… I don't know. It's like I can't get a break." He took another hit from his Juul, the familiar sensation of nicotine helping him steady his nerves, though his jaw still clenched.
Claire stood silently for a moment, her fingers tracing the side of her pink vape. She could tell that Ace wasn't the type to open up easily, but there was something in his tone—something vulnerable—that made her feel like she should press him just a little more.
"You wanna talk about it?" she asked, keeping her voice gentle.
Ace's gaze shifted toward her, and for a moment, it looked like he might brush her off. But then, with a deep sigh, he pushed off the wall, looking back at the ground. "I don't know if talking about it would help," he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I guess... I feel like I'm losing control of everything. Murdoc, my past, my future… It's all just crashing down on me."
Claire nodded, understanding more than he realized. She wasn't the type to open up easily either, but in this moment, she knew how important it was to show some kind of support. "I get it," she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper in the evening air. "It's hard. But you don't have to handle everything alone."
Ace looked at her, his expression softening just a fraction. He didn't say anything at first, but for the first time, the tension seemed to ease off his shoulders. "Thanks," he said quietly, his voice barely audible.
Claire gave him a small, encouraging smile. "Anytime. Just... you know, if you ever need to talk—or even just take a smoke break together—I'm here."
Ace gave a small nod, appreciating the offer more than he let on. As Claire took a pull from her vape, they stood there together for a few moments, the quiet companionship of the moment offering a fleeting sense of comfort in the midst of their tangled, chaotic lives.
Ace took a slow drag from his Juul, his eyes distant as the words slipped from his lips. "I lost my job," he said quietly, almost as if he were saying it to himself more than to Claire. "I'm gonna apply for government assistance. I'll have food stamps."
The weight of his words hung in the air, a stark reminder of how quickly things could fall apart. He let out a heavy breath, exhaling the vapor slowly, trying to shake off the frustration that had settled in his chest.
Claire's gaze softened as she processed his words. It was a lot—losing a job, relying on food stamps. It wasn't something Ace would have ever expected for himself, and she knew that.
She took a step closer, lowering her pink vape, offering him a quiet, empathetic look. "That's tough, Ace," she said gently. "But it's okay to ask for help when you need it. It doesn't mean you're any less... or that you've failed."
Ace chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. "It just feels like everything's slipping through my fingers, you know? Like I can't catch a break."
Claire nodded, her expression earnest. "I get that. Sometimes it feels like no matter what you do, things just keep falling apart. But you're not alone in this. We've all had our own shit to deal with. And you don't have to go through it by yourself."
He glanced over at her, the tension in his jaw loosening a little. "Yeah," he said quietly, his voice heavy but appreciative. "Thanks, Claire. I guess I'm not really used to... talking about this kind of stuff. It's hard."
"I know," Claire replied softly, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "But you don't have to carry everything on your own."
Ace didn't respond immediately, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Maybe... maybe I could use a little more help than I thought."
"Anytime," Claire said, offering him a light, reassuring smile. "We've got your back. Just remember that."
For a moment, the two stood there in the cool night air, the sounds of the world around them muffled by the quiet understanding they shared. It wasn't much, but it was a start. And sometimes, that's all you need—someone who gets it.
