Superhero Group Therapy

Fighting crime ain't all that it's cracked up to be.

*

For Sabina -- the original Angry Lesbian Death Machine

*

Author's Note

This story has been floating around in my head for a while and has always ended up as half finished. Well, after several starts and stops, I finally polished it off. It's an odd mixture of silliness, seriousness, and of course, sexiness. I hope you enjoy it.

Superhero Group Therapy

Part I -- Tragic Backstory

Chupacabra stood outside the door for a minute, listening to the voices on the other side, gathering the courage to enter. It had only been six months since what happened to her sister Esmeralda—the night she was assaulted. Perhaps it was too soon to come out of her shell.

But that was the fear talking. Taking a deep breath, Chupacabra twisted the door handle and pushed. She entered into a brightly lit classroom with six chairs arrayed in a circular formation. Only one of them was empty.

"Ah, it looks like we have everyone here." The woman at the twelve o'clock position motioned her in. "You must be Chupacabra."

Chupacabra nodded.

The room erupted in a chorus of voices. "Hi, Chupacabra."

A startled Chupacabra shrank back and stared at her shoes.

"No need to be shy," said the woman at the front, waving Chupacabra forward. "We were all new here once, right?"

Nods from all around.

"My name is Doctor Carla Young, and you can call me Carla if you'd like. Please, have a seat."

Chupacabra shuffled forward, spun the last empty chair around so that its back faced toward the center of the circle. She threw her denim-clad leg over and straddled the seat while slumping forward and resting her chin on the chair's back. Rather than gazing at the faces surrounding her, she turned her attention to counting the cracks in the tiles at her feet.

"Welcome to the superhero group therapy circle, Chupacabra," Doctor Young said. "We're sharing our tragic backstories this evening. If you feel comfortable, we'd love to have you join in."

Chupacabra dipped her chin once in a weak nod and promptly went back to staring at the floor.

"Eagle Man was just about to tell us his story," said Doctor Young. "Go ahead Eagle Man."

"Hi, I'm Eagle Man. I stand for truth, justice and preservation of the American way."

"More like preservation of the systematic oppression of women and minorities you misogynistic old vulture," a woman wearing a pink knit cap stood and said in a voice that was just shy of a shout. She had a hand on her hip and by the time she was done speaking, her face was a shade darker than her cap.

"Pink Pussy, please," Doctor Young said, "we don't all have to agree on what's being said, but we do have to agree that everyone gets their turn."

Chupacabra looked up to see Eagle Man glaring at Pink Pussy and puffing up his chest feathers.

Sitting next to Pink Pussy was an angry-looking middle-aged woman, dressed in black jeans and a black hoodie, working her jaw and slowly cracking her knuckles one at a time. She said nothing.

"Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted," Eagle Man said with a huff and a ruffle of feathers. "I am Eagle Man, and I lay the golden egg of freedom. Behold!"

Chupacabra watched with strange fascination as Eagle Man squatted and produced a shiny gold-colored egg from beneath his white feathered costume. Though whether it was actually solid gold or merely brass-plated she could not tell with the distance that separated them.

This little show prompted Pink Pussy to stand up again, pointing her index finger directly at Eagle Man and the golden egg that he cradled so lovingly in his arms. "More like you keep the means of production stuffed so far up your ass that it'll never see the light of day. Your game is rigged from the word go, and no one else even has a chance, you ... you ... bourgeois pig-dog."

"I lay the golden egg of freedom," said Eagle Man in a booming voice with a pronounced flourish, and a rolling of the R, "ensuring the success of our economy and our nation, you ungrateful hussy."

Eagle Man began flapping his wings violently. "Ca-caw! Ca-caw!"

Pink Pussy darted from where she was standing to confront Eagle Man, standing toe to toe. Eagle Man continued ca-cawing with his hands on his hips and his chest puffed up, while Pink Pussy crouched and hissed with the fingers of both hands curled as she clawed at the air in front of her.

Chupacabra thought for sure the confrontation would come to blows. However, the woman dressed in black who was currently sitting right in the middle of it all seemed completely unfazed and continued with the methodical cracking of her knuckles, still not saying a word.

"Eagle Man, Pink Pussy, please take your seats," Doctor Young requested without raising her voice even a little bit, as if this kind of antagonistic behavior was a common occurrence with these two. To Chupacabra's amazement both potential combatants complied, but not without a final hiss and a puffing of chest feathers.

"Perhaps we should move on to someone else. Angry Lesbian Death Machine, would you like to share your tragic backstory?"

The woman in black let out a long, low growl and continued cracking her knuckles.

"Okay, I guess that's a

no

from Angry Lesbian Death Machine. And that's alright. We don't want anyone to feel pressured here. We can share when we're comfortable."

The growling stopped, but the knuckle cracking continued and was now accompanied by a pronounced scowl.

"Millennial Girl." A bright-eyed Doctor Young turned and clapped her hands together. "We haven't heard your tragic backstory yet. Would you like to share?"

Chupacabra turned her gaze to the young woman with the over-sized glasses and dirty blonde hair held in check by a plum-colored knit beanie. Peaking out from under her partially zipped hoodie looked to be a vintage Nirvana t-shirt—a shirt that Chupacabra swore she had seen recently gracing the racks of a local thrift store.

"Um, okay," said Millennial Girl. "My tragic backstory ... um, let's see ..."

Eagle Man puffed up his chest feathers. "You wouldn't know tragedy if it came up and bit you on the ass, you privileged little snowflake. You're just as misguided as the rug munching Johnny Cash over here." He tilted his head in the direction of Angry Lesbian Death Machine.

"That's quite enough, Eagle Man," Doctor Young said, raising her voice just a little. "We're all entitled to express ourselves, but this needs to be a safe space for everyone. Please keep that in mind when you're speaking and try to be more respectful.

"Now, Millennial Girl, please continue."

Chupacabra found herself entranced by the jade green depths of Millennial Girl's eyes and the natural honey color of her lips as she prepared to speak.

Too pretty to be visited by such tragedy,

she thought, though she had yet to hear Millennial Girl's backstory.

"Um, I guess my tragic backstory is that nobody takes me seriously." Millennial Girl knit her brow in an adorable way that made Chupacabra think of her little sister, Esmeralda. She wanted to hold Millennial Girl's face in her hands and rub her thumb gently over her perfectly sculpted eyebrows until the wrinkles were gone, and tell her that everything would be alright.

"I mean," she continued, "I'm like really good with social media activism and stuff. I don't like to brag, but all my memes get more likes and shares than anybody else. My Instagram followers absolutely adore them."

"Oh, puh-lease," Eagle Man said. "You entitled little Twitter baby. You're such a whiny..."

"Hey!" Chupacabra surprised herself a little with her own outburst. "Leave her alone."

The room fell absolutely still. Angry Lesbian Death Machine even stopped cracking her knuckles as the scene played out. Eventually, a slight smile began to cross Millennial Girl's lips, and it was Doctor Young who finally pushed through the heavy curtain of silence.

"Chupacabra," she said with the practiced patience of a professional therapist. "Are you ready to share your tragic backstory with the group?"

"Um." Chupacabra shifted her gaze to the floor and concentrated on the cracks in the tiles again.

"It's okay if you need more time."

Chupacabra looked up and into the eyes of Millennial Girl, eyes that were bright and full of optimism. So much like Esmeralda's had been before she was assaulted. "No. No, I'm good," she said and cleared her throat.

"I never really saw myself as a superhero at all. I worked on a dairy farm in Wisconsin. Came up from Juárez... um, that's in Mexico. My father had worked there as a cheese maker until he got sick and couldn't make the trip anymore.

"Me and my sister, we did all sorts of odd jobs. Stuff nobody really wanted to do. But we didn't care, we were used to hard work. I just wanted to save my money so we could send some back home to Papa. And Esmeralda..." Chupacabra paused. "Esmeralda had this girl back home she would send money to. They were going to run away and get married."

Chupacabra glanced around the circle. Everyone's eyes were on her. Sure, Eagle Man rolled his once or twice, but Pink Pussy seemed transfixed, and Angry Lesbian Death Machine had even paused her knuckle cracking again. But what really inspired Chupacabra to continue was the look of wonder on Millennial Girl's face. It was the same awe-struck look her sister used to get when they spoke of their plans to make a better life in the United States—plans that came to an abrupt end a short time later.

"She was a sweet girl, my sister. So innocent. The boys in town all wanted to take her out, promised to treat her right, but she always said her heart already belonged to someone else. When it finally came out that the one Esmeralda gave her heart to was a girl... Well, most of the boys stopped asking, but there was one who seemed more determined than ever before."

Chupacabra stopped to bite her lower lip while her mouth twisted into a grimace. "That's why when I came in that night to find her crying, I knew what had happened. It was that cabrón. The one who always said she just needed the right man to straighten her out. Show her the way God had intended for things to be."

Chupacabra paused again.

"I haven't talked to God in a while ... after what I did later that night, I'm not even sure if He'd answer me ... but I'm pretty sure it wasn't in God's plan what that boy did to my sister."

Chupacabra squeezed her eyes tight and chewed her lip against the tears that threatened to break through at any moment. She took a deep breath and focused on the rage instead.

"So I went to that pendejo's house. Found him passed out in front of the television, the front door wasn't even locked. It's like it was just a regular night for him. I stood over him for a few minutes deciding what to do, and all I could see was Esmeralda's face, puffy and red from the tears. So I pulled out my knife and told him to strip. That woke his ass up real fast."

When Chupacabra opened her eyes, she saw that Pink Pussy and Angry Lesbian Death Machine were sitting on the edges of their seats, wringing their hands as if hanging on her every word. Not surprisingly, Eagle Man wore a scowl and would not even look in her direction. But what disturbed Chupacabra the most was the wide-eyed look of horror on Millennial Girl's face.

Chupacabra paused, regretting her decision to open up about her tragic backstory. She had held it in for so long. She could have held it in a little while longer, if for no other reason than to spare this innocent young girl the realization that such evil exists in the world.

Chupacabra looked to Millennial Girl, silently apologizing and at the same time maybe asking for permission to continue her confession. A slight dipping of Millennial Girl's head was all she got in response, but it was enough. A connection had been made.

"So, did you cut his balls off?" The first words anyone had heard from Angry Lesbian Death Machine. Pink Pussy was nodding and rubbing her hands together as if that would somehow hasten the conversation.

"No," Chupacabra said. "I picked up one of his empty beer bottles off the floor. I held it up for him to see, and I said, 'I bet I can straighten you out, cabrón. You just need the right woman to so you how it's done.'"

Chupacabra looked around the circle and saw that several pairs of eyes had gone wide. She cleared her throat and continued.

"He only struggled for the first half hour. After that he just kind of checked out, like his body was there, but his mind was somewhere else. I don't know, maybe I straightened him out."

The room was enveloped in a heavy hush, though Angry Lesbian Death Machine was grinning rather maniacally.

Again it was Doctor Young who first broke the silence.

"And do you still carry with you the tragic consequences of your vigilante actions that night, Chupacabra? Does it leave you hollow on the inside? Is that why you became a superhero? Doing good deeds hoping to fill that void in your heart, to fight against the blackness that threatens to consume you, day in and day out?"

"What?" Chupacabra said. "Fuck no. I became a superhero so I could hunt down little fuckers like him and tear their balls off. I travel the city at night, on the lookout for rapists, pimps, scumbags. And when I find them and have them up against the wall as they're begging God for mercy... I hold their balls in my hand. I look them in the eye and in a low voice I say, 'For Esmeralda.' Then, as I twist and squeeze, I hiss at them. Like this.

Hiss.

"Nobody really knows what a chupacabra says anyway, it's a mythical creature, so I figure I'm alright with a hiss. Though, if anyone has any suggestions..."

Chupacabra wound down her impassioned speech to a slow clapping and enthusiastic smiles from Pink Pussy and Angry Lesbian Death Machine.

"Nice," said the woman in black.

Eagle Man and Millennial Girl just sat staring in wide-eyed silence, though Eagle Man looked like he had gone a bit pale.

"Holy shit, girl," said Pink Pussy, "if you ever need a sidekick... ooh, you just look me up."

"Thanks," said Chupacabra, "I work alone."

*

Part II -- New Beginnings

"Thank you, Chupacabra," said Doctor Young. "I'm sure we'd all like to hear more, but unfortunately we're out of time. I hope to see everyone back here next week when we tackle the dynamics of sidekick relationships."

The sound of chairs scraping on tiles filled the air as everyone rose to their feet and began heading for the door. Chupacabra found herself stopped by Pink Pussy who reiterated her sidekick offer.

As Pink Pussy's words flowed in one ear and out the other, Chupacabra concentrated on Millennial Girl, who appeared to be engaged in some kind of heated discussion with Eagle Man and Angry Lesbian Death Machine across the room. When Millennial Girl met Chupacabra's gaze and smiled, Chupacabra began walking toward her.

It seemed the conversation had ended by the time Chupacabra arrived. Eagle Man had already wrapped himself in the American flag and was heading toward the door while Angry Lesbian Death Machine simply thrust her hands into the pockets of her hoodie and stomped along beside him.

Pink Pussy winked at Chupacabra, held her thumb and pinkie finger out near the side of her head in a

call me

gesture, and turned to go as well. That left Millennial Girl and Chupacabra as the only ones in the room apart from Doctor Young, who was busy packing up.

"I told them you'd walk me home so I'd be safe." Millennial Girl smiled. As she spoke she was thrusting her arms into a cardigan that was looked like it two sizes too big and was old enough that it may have been borrowed from somebody's grandmother.

"Told who?" Chupacabra asked as she plucked her flannel from the coat hook.

"My parents. I told them there was nothing to worry about if Chupacabra walked me home." Millennial Girl laid a finger on the bridge of her nose to push her glasses back into place. "You will walk me home, won't you?"

"I work alone."

Millennial Girl had wrapped her arms around Chupacabra's bicep and seemed to be purring as she stroked it. "What you need is a good work-life balance. How about a little time out for some coffee? I know a good place."

"Hmm. Sure, okay. Coffee. But no place with cops. I'm kind of in the country illegally."

"No problem. I know just the spot." Millennial Girl laid her head on Chupacabra's shoulder. "Did you really cut that guy's balls off?"

"What? No. I just..." Chupacabra made a circle with her thumb and finger and pushed her fist through it. "With a beer bottle... he deserved it. Fucking cabrón."

Millennial Girl hugged Chupacabra's arm in hers and smiled up at her. Chupacabra felt her heart melt just a little as they made their way to the door.

*

"So Eagle Man and Angry Lesbian Death Machine are your parents?" Chupacabra absentmindedly sloshed her coffee around in the cup in front of her. "That's got to make for some interesting dinner conversations."

"That's only when they're talking to each other, which isn't very often. Mostly Dad rails about the me-too movement and how it's painting all men to be insensitive jerks who can't keep their hands to themselves, and that

he

doesn't know anybody like that, but women always seem to look at men like they're some kind of threat.

"Then Mom says, 'Maybe it's that ridiculous costume you're always wearing, you ever think of that?'

"Then he does the thing with the egg, and the ca-caw, and it just turns into a shouting match."

"I'm sorry," Chupacabra offered. She tried to imagine Millennial Girl's home life. "If they hate each other so much, why don't they just get divorced."

"Oh my gawd," Millennial girl said. "That's what I've been saying for months. But they're all religious and stuff and their church views marriage as super sacred and all that."

"So I take it your mom was not always a lesbian."

"I'm not sure. I have a theory that she was all along, but she's just been going along with their marriage because of pressure from her family and the community. I don't know what things are like in Juárez..."

"Not that much different. My sister hid it from our parents too. She was afraid they would disown her."

"That's why I never told my parents."

"Yeah, me neither." Chupacabra paused. "Wait, you're...?"

"Yeah. You?"

Chupacabra nodded.

"Thought so. I have a sixth sense. Sometimes I just know stuff."

"Oh, do you now?" Chupacabra looked into Millennial Girl's eyes and grinned. "If you're so good, what am I thinking?"

"You're worried about your sister. What she'd think if she saw you here, drinking coffee and having a good time instead of prowling the streets and dispensing vigilante justice and all that. But don't you see? That's why you need a good work-life balance."

Chupacabra's smile widened.

"And you're worried about walking me home. Wondering if it would be appropriate to kiss me goodnight." Millennial Girl laid her hand on Chupacabra's forearm and batted her eyelashes. "I assure you, that would be just fine."

Chupacabra drained the last of her cup and threw some wadded up bills on the table. "You want to get out of here?"

"Sure."

*

Chupacabra and Millennial Girl stood bathed in the orange neon glow of a sign advertising Korean Barbeque, as Millennial Girl dug around in her coat pocket searching for keys.

"You live here?" Chapacabra said.

"Above."

Chupacabra inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the smokey smell that still lingered despite the fact that the restaurant had already closed. "Must be awfully tempting to smell that all day."