I Don't Want To Be A Hero

Chapter 11 Rest

The next day, Davina opened her eyes to a dull, throbbing ache that pulsed through every muscle. Even breathing felt like it tugged at bruises she didn't remember getting. She winced as she pushed herself upright, the sheets rustling against her skin like sandpaper.

She was an i***t…

She should have been more careful.

She knew better than to push herself, and she still did it anyway. The guilt sat heavier than the pain.

"Finally up, I see," Sebastian said as he stepped into the room, carrying a small tray with a glass of water and a bottle of pain relievers. His voice was gentle, but the worry behind it was unmistakable.

"I'm sorry," Davina murmured, fingers curling tightly into the sheets as if she could anchor herself against the shame.

"There's no need for an apology," Sebastian assured her, setting the tray on the nightstand. "Though I do believe you should come out to greet your guests."

Guests?

Davina blinked, confused, but she swung her legs over the side of the bed anyway. Her joints protested, but she forced herself to stand. She followed Sebastian down the hall, each step loosening her stiffness just a little.

The sitting room was filled with the sound of rapid button mashing and digital explosions. Ben and Tyler sat on the couch, leaning forward with intense focus as they battled it out on the screen.

"Damnit!" Ben groaned as his character died dramatically.

"You're still here?" Davina asked, eyebrows raised as both boys turned toward her.

"We wanted to make sure you were okay," Tyler said with an easy smile, standing up. He was taller than she expected, with a relaxed posture that made him seem instantly approachable. "I'm Tyler, by the way. You can call me Ty. It's nice to finally meet you." He extended his hand.

Davina shook it, appreciating the warmth of the gesture. "Thanks for your help. Both of you." She made sure to meet Ben's eyes when she said it.

Ben smirked, leaning back against the couch with his arms crossed. "This is why I said you need some backup around here."

"I hate to say it, Vi—"

"You're calling me Vi now too?" she cut in, giving him a look.

"—but you can't do everything yourself," he continued, unfazed. "Not when it comes to the city, your schooling, and your company. Something's gotta give."

Davina exhaled slowly and sank into the nearest chair. "I just need to make it a few more months. Then I'll be done with school."

"He's definitely right," Tyler added, stepping beside Ben. "You can't and shouldn't be doing this alone, especially since you don't have—"

"Powers," Davina finished for him, her tone flat.

The room fell into an awkward silence. Even the game's background music suddenly felt too loud.

"I may not have any special abilities," she said, crossing her arms defensively, "but I find ways that more than make up for it."

"We're not saying you don't," Ben replied, softening his voice. "All we're saying is it doesn't hurt to have a little help."

Davina stared at the floor for a moment, jaw tight. "I know that," she admitted. "But I started doing this for my own reasons. And I don't feel right dragging other innocent people into it."

"If you need help, please call ahead of time next time," Ben said. "Us heroes have to stick together."

"Yeah," Tyler added with a grin, "teamwork and all that."

Davina sighed, rubbing her temples. "Fine," she said reluctantly.

But even as she said it, a small part of her—one she rarely listened to—felt relieved.

Ben's phone buzzed first. He glanced at the screen, sighed, and pushed himself off the couch.

"Well… duty calls," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "York City's having a rough morning. I gotta head back."

Tyler checked his own phone a moment later and let out a low whistle. "Same here. Welson wasn't the only place with an explosion last night. My team needs me."

Davina stood, though her body protested with a sharp pull of pain along her ribs. "You both really don't have to rush off because of me."

Ben shook his head. "Vi, we stayed because we wanted to. But we can't leave our cities hanging either." He stepped closer, his expression softening. "Just… take care of yourself, okay? And call if you need anything. Before you get half‑killed next time."

She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched. "I'll try."

Ben gave her a quick, careful hug—mindful of her injuries—then stepped back. "Alright. I'll see you soon."

And in the next instant, he was gone—a blur of wind rushing past her, the front door swinging shut behind him.

Tyler chuckled. "He never learned how to make a normal exit." He walked toward the door, pausing beside her. "Seriously though… I'm glad you're okay. And I meant what I said. You don't have to do this alone."

Davina nodded, her voice quieter than she intended. "Thank you, Ty."

He gave her a warm smile before stepping outside. A moment later, a gust of air swept through the doorway as he lifted off the ground, wings of energy flaring behind him before he shot upward into the sky.

The house fell silent again.

Sebastian stepped beside her, hands folded behind his back. "Miss Davina," he said gently, "you should return to your room."

"I'm fine," she insisted, though her body disagreed with every breath.

"You are not," he replied, his tone firm but kind. "Your pain medication is on your nightstand. Take it. I will bring you something to eat shortly."

Davina opened her mouth to argue, but the exhaustion creeping into her bones made it pointless. "Alright," she murmured.

She made her way back down the hall, each step slower than the last. By the time she reached her room, her limbs felt heavy again. She took the pain meds with a sip of water and sank onto the bed just as Sebastian entered with a tray—soup, toast, and a small bowl of fruit.

"Eat what you can," he said, setting it beside her. "Then rest. Your body needs time to recover, even if your mind refuses to."

Davina managed a tired smile. "Thank you, Sebastian."

He inclined his head. "Always."

As he left the room, closing the door softly behind him, Davina leaned back against the pillows. The warmth of the soup, the fading ache from the medication, and the quiet of the house all wrapped around her like a blanket.

For the first time in days, she let herself breathe.

And rest.

TO BE CONTINUED