Shit. "He's- he's no one." Carter said, glaring at nothing in particular. "He's a dead legend that refuses to die. They want to find him because they want to find a way to kill him, and he's such a selfish jerk that he lets others die in his place. It's all pathetic. They're pathetic. He's… He's an idiot." There was something in Carter's voice, something soft and fond, as he spoke of Thomas, though he continued to glare.
"O-oh." He said quietly, racking his brain for a subject change. "Sorry I don't know much. I'm still kinda low tier."
"No, it's-" He reached up, running a hand through his hair. "It's fine, really. I thought they would have told you their brain-washed version of things, but I guess I was wrong. Are you completely sure that they didn't mention anything to you about Thomas? Well, actually they probably wouldn't have said his name, but he was a powerful person. He was an anomaly, that one. He had found a way to make himself immortal."
"Positive. I'm sure even the trainees would've know about an- wait." He said, freezing for a second. "Did you just say immortal?" He asked, trying very hard to stop a certain Fall Out Boy song from playing in his head
Carter waved his hand in the air, trying to figure out how to describe Thomas. "Well, he's more like Deadpool. He just heals from whatever injury he gets, and ends up not ageing, the ass. He's seen the births and deaths of entire civilizations, and the Legion has been hunting him god knows how long."
"So… death comes and he just… nopes out?" He said, taking a quick bite of pizza. "Wouldn't that drive a person crazy?"
Carter let out a bitter laugh. "He hit insanity centuries ago, and just kept driving. He stopped considering himself odd a long time before this though, so he finds us the weird ones. Like he's the normal."
"…He's literally a crazy immortal. Why-" He shook his head. "You know what? I'm just going to not question an insane immortal's logic."
Carter sighed. "I learned to stop questioning him the moment I met him. He has some sort of endgame in sight, one that he hasn't told anyone, and one that he doesn't care how long it takes him to get. He was practically a myth until around a decade ago, when he resurfaced, and did a mix of good and horrible things. The Legion's stepped up their game to find him, after that. They took in practically everyone that knew him."
"But…why? Why just randomly surface and then leave? Why would anyone think that plan would work out?"
"Because he's not an idiot, as much as I'd like to think he is. He's a genius, and like I said, he has an endgame in mind. The things he did helped him further in his plans."
He nodded, eating the pizza. He sat awkwardly, fidgeting a bit. "So, uh…"
"What?" Carter asked, his glare all but hardening.
He bit his lip. "How long are you keeping he here?" He asked quietly
"You're a hostage." Carter said, as if that should be obvious. "You'll leave when someone rescues you, or I negotiate terms with the Legion."
He nodded. "Right." He said, pulling his knees to his chest
"I-" He looked away, crossing his arms self-consciously. "Sorry, truly, I am. I don't want to do this, but the Legion's left me no choice." He stood up swiftly, walking towards the door. "I'll go get some stuff for your hand. Feel free to look around the room." He swiftly walked out, locking the door behind him.
(The room is just a bed, a bookshelf, a table and some chairs, and whatever else you feel like should be in there. The books are all classics though, because Carter can't be bothered to be involved in normal fandoms)
Denzel stood, walking over to the bookshelf. After all, a good book was always something to keep busy. He scanned the titles, eventually pulling out a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Carter grabbed his medical supplies from off one of the closets. Part of him was glad that he had limited Denzel to one room, that way he wouldn't be able to tell that Carter's "lair" was just his brother's old house. He returned to the room quietly, shutting the door behind him with a click. He let the items down on the table. "Can I.. Can I see your hand?"
He looked up, walking over, and holding out his hand. "Can't be too bad… right?" He asked, internally cringing. There was another reason he tried not to go to the doctors, besides being a broke collage kid
"It's a first degree burn wound, it's not that bad." Carter said, dragging Denzel forward to the other side of the room, where another door sat. He opened it, revealing a bathroom. He stuck Denzel's hand under the cool water in the sink, walking back into the room and grabbing the medical supplies before walking back to him.
He held his hand there, the other hand gripping his forearm. "Thanks." He said quietly
"I'm not having you get some infection, you don't have to worry about that." He washed in gently with soap, before drying it off. He applied an antibiotic ointment from the box of supplies and wrapped a bandage around the wound. "There." He said, putting the extra bandages away. "Sorry about the entire burn thing."
He smiled softly. "It's fine." He said, dropping both hands to his sides. "Sorry I wouldn't say anything…"
"It's my fault for trying to torture it out of you." Carter said, looking uncomfortable. He didn't make apologies, he was never around people enough to have to in the first place. He wasn't completely sure how to do this.
He shook his head. "Well, I'm not dead. That's usually a pretty good sign."
"To most, yes." Carter said a small quirk of a smile playing on his lips. "It'd be a shame if you did die in the near future. I'd lose by hostage."
"And I'd definitely fail my classes." He said in mock seriousness, unbandaged hand running itself through his hair.
"They'll put your grades on hold if you're kidnapped, right?" Carter asked. "I never went to college, so I wouldn't know."
He shrugged. "It's not like they know, so I'll probably get a few absences and have to play catch up at worst."