The Last American Hero

by Nicole Field

  Chapter Eight

  "Do you think that transgender people should be treated like regular people?"

  It was midway through the following week. Bruce had tuned into the interview after it started. It was on the TV at work in the break room during his lunch. Bruce hadn't been able to get the time off to join Leo for this talk show appearances. Leo had told Bruce he didn't mind, that he wasn't sure he wanted Bruce to be there for this one anyway. He said he was going to give one more talk show a try before he decided whether he was just going to say no to future invitations.

  It didn't look like it was going well.

  "Trans people are regular people," Captain Hart stressed, his smile only slipping for a moment.

  "Oh, I don't mean people like you. I mean people who don't look like the gender they're trying to be."

  It was just another example as to how he no longer fit in with either trans or cis groups. The host, meanwhile, looked as though what she had said was completely reasonable. Had the whole interview been like this, or had Bruce just stumbled in on a rough part?

  Bruce felt like he was going to vomit in his mouth. From the sour face on Captain Hart, it seemed like he was fighting back an urge to do the same thing.

  "I think that all people, regardless of how well they pass, should be entitled to kindness and respect. America is the land of the free. Punishing people for being different? Well, I thought we were better than that."

  "Oh, it's not the same thing as punishing," the host said confidently. "We're just trying to keep people safe. Like you have done for America."

  Bruce saw Captain Hart's chest rise and fall with all the sentiments he was biting back in response to that statement. The smile on his lips seemed plastered there, stiff and unnatural. Bruce couldn't remember a time when he'd ever seen Leo look so uncomfortable as Captain Hart did then.

  Still, Bruce thought, at least they were returning to familiar territory. Even if done to death in interviews, Captain Hart's actions the night he'd saved the White House couldn't be denied.

  "I have you quoted as saying that being 'different' makes you 'dangerous' at one of your meet-and-greets at Quincy Park." The host had a toothy smile on her features as she looked up from the notes in front of her.

  "That is not what I said." Captain Hart's fingers flexed on the chair's arms, but his face and tone stayed balanced.

  "What did you say?" the host asked slyly.

  "I was answering a question asked with regards to killing the aliens." Captain Hart wisely didn't extrapolate.

  But the host dug for a scoop. "Aliens who are different to us, and therefore dangerous?"

  Captain Hart's jaw tightened. "They came to a planet hoping, needing, to colonize. That doesn't make them bad guys. That means they were trying to survive like the rest of us. Obviously, however, they could not colonize here."

  "So you don't think the aliens who tried to destroy the White House were the bad guys?" The host raised a delicately plucked eyebrow, grabbing onto the one part of Captain Hart's statement that was the most juicy.

  "To answer your first question," said Captain Hart calmly, "I do not believe the fact of being 'different' alone makes anyone 'dangerous'. It may, however, be an assumption made on the side of the beholder."

  If the host was displeased that he'd sidestepped her question, she didn't show it. Instead, she leaned forward in her chair. "Now I notice you keep saying 'us' and 'we'. Do you really see yourself as still being a part of the human race? An argument could be made that your powers make you separate."

  Captain Hart offered her a thin smile. Instead of answering this time, he asked, "Is that what you'd argue?"

  The host gave a silly little titter. "Oh, I'm not here to judge."

  There was a bark of bitter laughter, audible from the audience, and enough in its starkness to distract the host for a minute. For the first time since Bruce had been watching, Captain Hart's smile relaxed just a little.

  "Oh no, nobody's here to judge," he said, raising his eyebrow towards the camera. Bruce's heart gave a funny little twitch.

  A few more people in the audience laughed at this, freed by that first laugh from the audience.

  "Not to be intrusive," the host said, changing the subject abruptly. Bruce already knew that whatever she was about to ask was going to be intrusive. "But we've had many viewers—some of them trans like you—who have been curious about the transformation that gave you your superpowers and turned you into a man. Did it turn you into…" Her gaze flickered towards his lap briefly. "A complete man?"

  This statement was immediately met with hisses and boos from the studio audience, potentially started by some of those who had come to the meet-and-greets. The sounds of support helped Leo, though. Bruce could see him square his shoulders even as the host raised her hands apologetically.

  Captain Hart's face lost all expression. Slowly, he tilted his head to the side. "What's a complete man?"

  After a short, awkward pause, the host laughed off his question. "Oh, you know what I'm talking about," she said, as though the two of them were together in a common joke.

  Bruce stared blank faced into the work's tearoom television, the sounds of his workmates disappearing. Leo's gender was pretty clearly the common joke. Bruce bit off a curse.

  "I mean, I am a man, so I guess I am a complete man." Captain Hart paused. The look he gave the host was one that Bruce could imagine Leo giving a pet who had just soiled the floor. Bruce drew in a sharp breath. "But if there's some specific part of me that you think is incomplete, I'd like to know what it is. Are you referring to my superpowers? Or are you asking if I have a—?"

  The word he chose was covered by a bleep that also obscured the start of a collective intake of breath followed by 'oooo'ing coming from the crowd.

  "I'm sure you understand there are more important conversations we could be having in this interview." Captain Hart's answer, diplomatic as it was though, shut down the line of questioning firmly.

  The host cleared her throat, and gave another awkward laugh. "I think it's time for a commercial," she said, glancing at the cameras just before the show cut off to a break.

  Bruce smiled in satisfaction over Leo's responses. And yet, the interview had made it pretty clear as to what so many Americans were already thinking. Captain Hart was 'other'. Potentially an alien, certainly different from the human race. And his private genitals had become a question of public debate.

  He chose not to talk about that on-screen appearance after Leo returned home. When he came into Bruce's bedroom and sat on the bed, Bruce didn't say anything. They'd been using both their bedrooms as shared space since the first night they'd fallen asleep in the same bed. Both the physical contact and the open conversation they'd finally had about Bruce's sexuality were healing. He should have shared this part of himself with Leo years ago, he realised now.

  It even felt nice just to share the space that had always been just his own when Leo walked in looking devastated and drained.

  "I'm not doing any more talk shows," Leo told him.

  Bruce couldn't blame him. "Fair enough." Having watched today's show, Bruce knew better than to respond with anything but complete assent.

  "But I do have to do something else. Have a look at this," Leo said, striding forward to close the rest of the distance between them.

  The notes read: You have to go back to the medical facility. You know the one, and, There's nobody else… None of them were signed, but it looked as though all three notes were written in the same handwriting.

  "I have to check this out," Leo told him. Bruce could see that, despite the fact that he had talked him out of it the last time, he would not be successful again. Leo's words sounded tight, and Bruce remembered the words he'd said to him the last time they'd had this conversation.

  "We'll wait until we have more information. But if people die because of this, it's on your head too."

  Bruce didn't want there to be any death, of humans or aliens. And this was mor
e information, just like he'd stipulated last time. Bruce swallowed. He had a decision to make here, and it wasn't one he took lightly.

  "You've got to promise you won't kill anyone," Bruce said, then as Leo opened his mouth to interject, he added quickly, "Not unless you've exhausted all other options."

  The two men stared at each other for a long moment. This wasn't a position he would bend on, not if he was going to help.

  Finally, "Fine. Not unless I've exhausted all other options," Leo said.

  "Good. Now, what's the name and address of the medical facility?"

  Bruce wasn't just good with computers. He'd started hacking into other computers for fun from around the time he was fourteen. In the next half hour, he found everything he could about the medical facility from which the dog that had bitten him had escaped and shared the information with Leo, who watched over his shoulder.

  On the surface, they were a medical facility, but when one looked into the floor plans of the facility, and the relative silence of anything going in or out of the facility in the last three years—nothing more than cover stories and tax records to keep the government from shutting it down or repurposing it—it all added up to something not quite right.

  Bruce nodded, long after he'd memorized the floor plan and hacked into the security guard rotation to get as good an idea as possible of when it would be clear to infiltrate.

  "I'm coming with you."

  "It's too dangerous," Leo said immediately.

  Bruce had known Leo would say that. For once, his comic book knowledge came in handy. He would be a useful enough sidekick that Leo wouldn't be able to turn him down. He'd already been as good as mistaken for one at Leo's first interview.

  "Who knows the floor plans of the building, the ways of getting both in and out as fast as possible with the least chance of getting caught?" Bruce asked sweetly.

  For his troubles, Leo glared at him.

  "You can tell them to me," Leo said stubbornly. "You don't have superpowers."

  "It would take too long, and you don't have a photographic memory." Okay, so it was a bit of an exaggeration to say 'photographic memory', but Bruce had always been able to memorize things quicker than Leo. And it was Leo who was worried about things taking too much time and people getting hurt.

  "Fine," he said, in that way that always announced he was far from happy with the situation.

  Bruce didn't say that it was worth considering that this might be a trap. How many times in comic books had letters exactly like these been traps for the superhero? Leo had never been anywhere near the comic book buff that Bruce was, so it didn't occur to him. Bruce was grateful for that. Even the hint that this might be a trap probably would have been enough for Leo to change his mind about letting him go.

  Bruce quickly tied his shoes.

  *~*~*

  Even with the information Bruce had garnered, they still scoped out the outside of the building, seeing if there was anything there that stood out. Bruce had no idea what he was looking for, but Leo said that he would recognize it if he saw it.

  He didn't dress in his Captain Hart costume, intending to stay incognito. But even that didn't get them very far.

  Almost as soon as they reached the medical facility that Leo was sure the letter indicated, a flashlight shone upon them. Bruce bit back a sigh. It wasn't as though he'd spent hours hacking into the security information or anything, but the fact that it had been so easy, and quick, for them to be detected was galling. Not to mention anticlimactic. This wasn't the way things went in the comic books. So much for making himself an indispensable sidekick.

  He hardly dared to look over to see Leo's expression but, when he did, the other man looked more abashed even than Bruce felt. Probably he had the feeling that a superhero ought to have been stealthier—with or without his costume. It wasn't like he wasn't recognizable as Captain Hart with the flashlight in his face.

  "Captain Hart!" The security guard on duty immediately turned off his flashlight. It took a few moments for Bruce's eyes to adjust to the darkness again.

  Leo seemed to recover from his disappointment immediately, or at least far more quickly than Bruce.

  "Good evening to you," Captain Hart responded, and the security guard brightened still further, even as he shone his flashlight away from their eyes.

  "I thought it was incredibly brave, the way you shared what you did with everyone. Especially given how you're such a public figure and all," said the security guard. He scratched the back of his head with his flashlight. "Well, I didn't think much of it myself. But my boy loved it. Sorry. Girl. My daughter." He stressed the word with the sound of someone who'd already been reminded. "He—She thought you were very inspiring."

  "I'm glad to hear it," Captain Hart said. "What's her name? Your daughter?"

  "Shauna." There was just the briefest pause before the second syllable, but both Captain Hart and Bruce pretended they didn't notice it. "I've been watching the news since you came out about, well, you know." Again, the security guard used the flashlight against the back of his head in what was clearly a nervous gesture. "I think it's terrible the way they're acting like you're some sort of terrorist, or something. You're still a national hero."

  For the first time, the security guard looked to the side of Captain Hart and saw Bruce standing there too. He frowned before Captain Hart could reply.

  "What are you two gentleman doing here tonight, anyway?" he asked, adopting his more professional demeanour.

  Ah.

  Captain Hart, of course, had an answer ready to go. "I'd heard there was trouble I should check out in the area. But I see that you're taking good care of it."

  Unfortunately his answer wasn't good enough, particularly as it didn't attempt to cover Bruce's presence at all. "I see," the guard said, still using his tone of mild reproach. "Well, that being the case, maybe you men can wander on home now, and I'll get back to my job." He raised his eyebrows.

  Captain Hart inclined his head. Bruce was already backing up before Captain Hart turned to him.

  That the security guard had seemed like he was waiting for them led credence to Bruce's private thoughts that had been a trap. That the security guard then let them go—provided they actually did go home, and not try to sneak into the medical facility another way—reduced some of that possibility.

  For Leo's part, he seemed content to abandon the post, for tonight, at least. Neither one of them spoke until they were back in the safety of their living room.

  "I'm sorry." Bruce felt like he was saying that a lot lately. Was it a reflection on the way their relationship was changing, or that his best friend was now also Captain Hart?

  Leo slashed a look his way. "Why are you sorry?"

  Bruce shrugged. "I should have checked better. I should have—"

  "No." Leo shook his head, not even allowing Bruce to finish his self-pitying sentence. "You've never done anything like that before. I have. Dozens of times now. So many, I've lost count of the actual number. I should have done better."

  Bruce was quiet after that. He looked up into Leo's strained expression and opened his mouth to speak when Leo quieted him with a look.

  "I don't wanna dwell on this. There'll be time for that tomorrow." And with a deep inhale, Leo turned his full attention onto Bruce. Bruce wasn't quite sure how to deal with the abrupt change of pace. He started to turn away towards the kitchen.

  "Did you want some coffee?" he asked, at the same time as Leo asked,

  "What exactly does asexual mean to you?"

  The two of them stared at each other after they each finished their questions. Bruce had heard enough of Leo's sentence to make out what he was asking.

  Leo cleared his throat. "Is that too intimate for me to ask? We can have coffee instead."

  "No…" Bruce shook his head, more to the first question than the second. He was still half turned away from Leo, caught at an awkward angle where he was obviously trying to skirt his way out of the conversation. With a clear
ing of his throat, he shuffled his feet until he was facing Leo once again. How was he going to answer this question? What did asexual mean to him? He'd never had to answer this question before, never had someone to answer it to, and certainly hadn't asked it of himself.

  "I guess it means I'm not interested in having sex, obviously. So not having relationships, 'cause, you know." Bruce shrugged like it didn't matter to him, like this wasn't a deeply personal subject, because it was Leo.

  But Leo shook his head as though what Bruce said didn't make sense. "I don't know."

  Bruce looked at him, trying to see if he was being obtuse, but there wasn't any evidence of it either way. "I guess, because sex is an important part of relationships."

  "Some relationships. What about the people who choose not to have sex before marriage?" Leo asked curiously.

  Bruce narrowed his eyes. Was Leo making fun of him? "There's still sex," he said flatly. "Just after the marriage."

  Leo lifted his chin, and rocked back half a step on his heels in contemplation. The actions made Bruce feel a little less boxed in, less like Leo was pressing on him for answers.

  "What about…" Leo waved his hand absently. "Companionship. Affection. What if it actually was a romance without sex? Obviously kisses are out, but hugs?"

  Bruce opened his mouth, before closing it again. None of this had been anything he'd given any thought to before. After the night they'd just had, he didn't feel up to going on an abbreviated journey of self-discovery. He lifted a hand to the bridge of his nose in silent indication of all that.

  "I'm not sure," he mumbled from behind his hand. "Maybe?"

  He watched as Leo nodded stiffly, twice. "Tonight's been rough," he said. "I should let you sleep."

  "I do have work in the morning," Bruce murmured, as though it had only just occurred to him though, in truth, it was just a convenient excuse.

  "Good night, Bruce."

  It somehow seemed like the kind of night to head back to his room rather than going to Leo's. Heading into his own bedroom, Bruce couldn't help but consider the questions that Leo had asked him. A romance without sex? What did that even look like? It wasn't as though Bruce had a lot of experience in the area. And by asking, had Leo meant that he wanted that sort of a relationship between them both?