The bullet lodged right between his ribs. On any other day, it probably wouldn’t have been a big deal. Take some tweezers — rusty and old even — and tear that sucker out. But today wasn’t a normal day.

Red had lost his powers in that day, something to do with the winter solstice and a lot of science he didn’t understand. His sister — the world dubbed her Blue — had figured all that out years ago. Made a presentation about the lack of super strength on random days and everything. Had it helped? No. Red knew nothing about the science behind his powers.

“Red!” Was the first thing he hears when he grips his now very bloody side. It was the broken cry of a woman, his sister, from a few feet away. The words broke and faded in his ears, replaced instead by the deafening silence of his blood in his ears.

The villain lowers his gun. Black eyes stare right at Red as he crumbles to the ground; black mask covering whatever expression the man wore.

Red watched him turn and walk — not even run — down the empty street. He kicks over trash and bits of building the two had just knocked over. Then he’s gone.

His sister fills his place. The mask she wore fit her name, it was blue down to the core. Royal blue, she had called it, fit for a queen. She wore a hood on this day. She, unlike Red, had anticipated something going down like that.

“Red please! Talk to me! Oh my god.” Blue grabs either side of his face, pulling it into her lap. Tears had began to well in her eyes. Red watches them gather and fall onto his own skin. He fills the bitter chill of them when they hit the broken cracks of the mask.

“Blue.” Red coughs. The words themselves sent pain through his chest. Blood to match his name splats out of his lips against the underside of the mask he wears. It’s metal taste infects his tongue. “Blue where- where’s-“

“Shh, Shh. Just- just stay-“ Her hands fall from his cheeks and lift to his hair. For a moment he’s brought back to their childhood; to those quiet days where she would read him children’s books and pet his unruly hair. “Help! Please, somebody help!”

There wasn’t anyone. Red knew that because he had sure no one would be around. The villain they were facing that day was terrible in more than one sense of the word. Throwing a big truck — well, more like driving it because winter solstice and everything — right in the way of any emergency vehicle seemed like a great idea at the time.

Red couldn’t feel his hands. God, why couldn’t he feel his hands? He knew he should feel the sticky feeling of blood against his ribs but he couldn’t. Every breath was shallow, broken, and he knows that should worry him.

His heart was pounding. Pounding. Pounding so loud he could barely make out the words his sister spoke.

She screams and cries, eyes scanning the world around her.

Red coughs again. This one turns into a wheeze. A long, drawn out wheeze that leaves him feeling so drained of life he almost closes his eyes right then.

He couldn’t leave, though, not now. Not after everything he had put his sister through. Leaving her alone would be cruel, stupid.

Red grabs Blue’s hand, bringing it close to his chest. He squeezes it as hard as he can. She looks down at him in a panic. Bits of her red hair fall out from behind the mask. Red hair that matched his own before he dyed it. Dyed it so he wouldn’t have to disgrace his family again.

“Blue.” Red let’s go of his wound. In the moment it seemed so harmless, though anyone around could see the alarming rush of blood it sends to stain the cement. No one could survive so much blood loss. “Blue. Look at me.”

Red reaches up, grabbing the edge of his mask. Without another word he tears it off. Bits of the brittle material fall away, the largest chunk clattering to the ground by his hand.

He watches his sister’s mind click into place. Sees the moment her mouth opens in what would only be a scream.

“I love you.” He whispers, letting his grip on her hand loosen until it falls away.