Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)-Chapter 277: tighter

Tila clutched him tighter, her breath shivering in and out of her lungs, uneven and ragged, like wind through cracked stone.

"Then... who am I?" she asked, voice cracked and empty, echoing faintly off the moldy walls.

"If she’s not real, then what does that make me? A fraud? A puppet pulled together with shadows and fear?"

Kael’s hands moved slowly, one up her back in a soothing glide, the other resting over her heart, steadying her frantic pulse with his warmth.

"No. You’re someone who survived when no one came to help. Someone who created light in the middle of rot. You didn’t fake anything. You lived—fiercely, against all odds."

"But I murdered them," she whispered, her black eyes squeezing shut, tears seeping from the corners.

"Everyone. Even when they begged. Even when they cried. They were monsters but I—" Her throat closed, a choke cutting off the words. "I was worse. I enjoyed it. I laughed. And Lila told me I was strong for doing it."

"You were strong," Kael said softly, his hazel eyes unwavering in the dim light filtering through the slats.

"But strength in pain turns cruel. That wasn’t joy—that was a starving girl finally tasting power after being force-fed fear her whole life. You didn’t enjoy killing. You enjoyed not being helpless, not being the one on the floor anymore."

Her breath hitched, a sharp sob escaping as her body pressed closer to his. "You’re wrong."

He shook his head, his chin brushing her curls. "I’m not. I’ve seen people kill to feel big. You killed to feel real—to reclaim what was stolen from you."

She was trembling again, but differently now.

Less wild, like a storm raging unchecked.

More raw, like wounds finally exposed to air. "I’m sick, Kael."

"No," he said, and kissed the top of her head, his lips gentle against her hair. "You’re healing. And healing hurts before it mends."

She laughed bitterly into his chest, the sound muffled and hollow. "What kind of person makes up a sister just to survive?"

"The kind that was never given love. Never given warmth. So you grew it yourself—made it from nothing and wrapped it around you like armor, shielding the parts of you that were too fragile to face the world alone."

Tila’s fists clutched his shirt, wrinkling it between her fingers, her nails digging in as if afraid he’d vanish.

"But she was everything I’m not. She was calm, she was smart, she was brave—"

Kael cut her off, voice firmer now, a quiet command in the intimacy. "She was you. You were all those things. You just didn’t know it—couldn’t see it through the haze of what they did to you."

"I feel alone," she confessed, her voice so small it barely filled the space between them. "I feel like I’ve always been alone."

Kael’s arms pulled her tighter, enveloping her completely, his resonance humming softly like a distant lullaby. "Then let me say this, so it echoes in your bones... You’re not. Not anymore. I see you, Tila. Not the mask, not the shadow—you. The girl who fought her way out of hell and still found room for laughter, for pudding, for hope."

Something in her broke again—but it wasn’t fear this time.

It was something softer.

A grief that had long wanted to be felt, to be acknowledged without judgment.

She didn’t wail.

She didn’t scream.

She just wept, quiet and bitter and deep, her tears soaking into his shirt like rain on parched earth.

"I don’t deserve this," she murmured, her words slurred through the sobs.

"Maybe not. But you’ve needed it—for so long."

Silence filled the box again, but it was warmer now.

The mold and shadows didn’t feel so loud anymore, retreating like whispers before dawn.

Her body shook in his arms as warmth bloomed through her chest, not from power or fire—but from him.

From Kael.

Just being there.

Solid. Real.

Unmoving, a constant in her chaos.

"I really don’t have a sister," she said again, slower this time, tasting the words like unfamiliar fruit. Like the truth was finally settling in, taking root.

"No," Kael said, his voice a gentle affirmation. "You were the sister. The protector. The strong one—all along."

Tila drew in a deep breath, her chest expanding against his, the ache still there but dulled, manageable.

Her eyes stung, red-rimmed and swollen, but something had lifted.

The unbearable weight had been shifted just enough to let air back into her lungs, to let her breathe without the phantom grip of the past.

"...I always thought I’d fall apart without her."

"You didn’t," he said, simple and true.

"No. I didn’t."

The words startled her, her black eyes widening slightly as she let them settle into her like roots finding soil. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

She repeated them, testing their weight.

"I didn’t," she said again.

And again.

Until she was smiling through the tears, a small, tentative curve of her lips that lit the darkness like a spark.

Kael brushed a lock of hair from her cheek, his thumb smearing away the tear track with tender care. "You never needed her to be brave. You already were—every step, every fight."

"But I was scared."

"Bravery isn’t the absence of fear," he said, his hazel eyes soft with understanding. "It’s doing the hard thing while terrified. And you’ve done it. Again. And again. Through the orphanage, through the battles, through this."

Tila sniffled, wiped her nose on her sleeve without shame, and gave a snort of a laugh, raw but real. "You really are a pain in the ass sometimes."

"Mm. I know." He gave her a small smirk, the corner of his mouth lifting in that familiar way. "But I’m your pain in the ass."

She laughed again—more genuine now, bubbling up from a place long sealed.

It didn’t erase everything, not the past or the scars or the ache—but it loosened something. Let light in through the cracks, illuminating the fragments of herself she’d hidden away.

"...I think I’m okay," she said after a long silence, her voice steadier, testing the ground beneath her words.