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Hours pass slowly, with nothing to look at but the sterile white walls of Metroburg's Superhero General Hospital. Max stares at them, unseeing while his mother works her phone, texting Mrs. Wong whom she asked in a panic to watch Nora and Billy, much to the kids' chagrin. Barb probably didn't mention what was really going on and that was for the best. Billy wouldn't understand - he didn't understand how gravity worked on the best of days - and Nora would just be miserable and confused.
Max almost feels jealous of them. "Can we see her now?" he asks for the dozenth time. "All right, let's rephrase that ... can I see her now?"
"They'll come out and tell us when we can," Barb replies, stabbing at her phone, probably as a distraction. "I know it's hard but we need to be patient."
Max throws himself back into the hard plastic chair which responds with a satisfying 'crack'. "Where's Dad? Why isn't he here?"
Barb shrugs, but her expression is grim. "Your father does what he thinks he needs to do. I can't stop him."
"Stop him?" Max glances over at her confused. Above them, the waiting room television shows what appears to be a small mushroom cloud going up over a well-known lair of Metroburg's newest crop of villains, most of them the worst of the worst, just this side of insane.
Reporters run to and fro in the television camera's range, yelling about the complete destruction of a good dozen villainous headquarters as if one giant, nuclear fist descended on them without any thought or remorse.
"Oh," Max says, knowing that it's Dad who is taking out those hideouts because of what happened to Phoebe and he's both horrified and proud at the same time. Obviously, this hero and villain business wasn't always as lighthearted as it seemed. "Dad does do what he wants to do when it comes down to it in the end, I guess."
His mother nods, glancing up the destruction playing out over the news with a look of grim satisfaction. "I wouldn't have married him if that wasn't the case."
It's at that moment the doctor comes out. He holds out his hand to Barb so to talk to her across the hall and shakes his head at Max, who nearly plants one on him in fury. But he holds back and the private consultation isn't long, except that Barb's complexion has turned an ashen gray when they return to Max's side.
The doctor, on the other hand, is all tight smiles and arm pats, which Max disdainfully shakes off. "Your sister is going to be alright in a few weeks. She took a beating, but I'm sure gave back as well, considering the bruises on her knuckles and kicking foot. She needs rest and good care, which I know you'll give to her."
"What did they do to her?" Max asks furiously, his throat raw. "I need to know too."
"She has a broken arm, extensive bruising and some minor lacerations," the doctor replies tightly as Barb turns away from Max's gaze. "I'm sure that's enough, isn't it?"
Max wants to call him out as a liar, but instead, he shrugs and nods. "Yeah, that's more than enough. When can we take her home?"
The doctor's shoulders droop with relief. "Twenty four hours more should be sufficient to make sure her vitals are stable for home care."
"You'll help us take care of her, won't you Max?" his mom asks patting his arm.
"Yeah. Sure," he replies, noting how cold her hands are. "Can I see her now?"
The doctor and his mother share a glance, but they both nod. Maybe they want some more 'alone time' to talk. Not that Max cares. He's already shoved his way past the ER doors, into his the curtained off area where Phoebe lies, hooked up to monitors and the business end of multiple IV tubes.
Max steps in silently, pulling the curtain closed behind him. He nods at Phoebe who looks up at him, her uninjured eye dazed and hazy looking. Not that it matters, Max makes sure his chair is as close as it can get and he takes her non-casted hand in his, breathing hard, bringing himself under some sort of control. He tries to ignore her weak squeezes, concentrating instead on what's he's going to do to what's left over of her attackers once Dad is done with them.
Maybe its her innate sense, maybe it's the bond between them, but Phoebe shakes her head at Max. "Don't," she whispers hoarsely. "Please."
He gives her his best 'who, me?" smile. "You know I'm too lazy for any of that revenge stuff, Pheebs."
A single tear rolls down her uninjured cheek in reply.
"Stop worrying," he says, but his voice isn't as smooth as he'd like it to be. It's hoarse and tight with anger. "I promise not to do anything that doesn't need doing. Now, you're going to tell me what flavor of ice cream you want once we get home. Oh, Rocky Road? Awesome, that's my favorite too."
"Vanilla is my favorite," she says, weakly, but at least she's talking.
Max brushes a lock of mussed hair back from her forehead with a light touch wincing at another bluish bruise blossoming there. "Don't worry, once I introduce you to the dark side, there won't be any going back. The chocolate and nuts dark side, that is."
"You're nuts," she whispers, but is asleep almost before the last word is spoken.
They must have put some serious painkillers in those bags, Max thinks. He brings her limp hand to his cheek and holds it there, feeling her soft skin against his, breathing in her scent. Closing his eyes, Max tries to think of how certain people are going pay for what they've done, but his thoughts never stray far from Phoebe, taking note of each labored breath she takes, the pain he can feel as if it's his own.
He doesn't hear his mother come in, he only senses that she's pulled up a chair next to him and is gently stroking Phoebe's leg. "Was she awake at all?"
Max nods, still holding onto his sister's hand. "For a minute. I think the drugs knocked her out. Is Dad going to get the name of the guy or is he taking them all down first, asking questions later?"
"Does it really matter, Max?" His mother's sigh sounds so incredibly tired and sad.
"Yeah, it kinda does." With care he puts Phoebe's hand down and tucks the blanket over her bruised fingers. "You'd think that the other uncaped kids out there would appreciate the warning."
Barb's back stiffens. Max senses she hasn't thought of that. "Your father will take care of it," she repeats firmly and then, as if eager to change the subject ... "We're going to bring Phoebe home tomorrow in the Thundervan. It converts in a medical transport. That way the neighbors won't ask questions as they would when a Metroburg hero ambulance rolls up."
"What are you telling our school? She went skiing in May and hit a half dozen trees?"
"I'll think of something. I just ... I can't ... just ..." The words become garbled because Barb is weeping openly over her unconscious daughter and Max cringes in discomfort.
"Don't worry, Mom. It's the least of our problems, I guess." He rises and hugs her, rationalizing that even super villains loved their Moms, sort of. He lets her cry it out on his shoulder and when she's done, he gives her a tissue and helps her to the rest room where she can wash her face, which is streaked with tears and that morning's make up.
He goes back to Phoebe's side and stays there, watching the monitors, watching each breath. He hears his dad in the hallway, newly arrived, talking to his mother in a low voice, along with the doctors and some super powered 'friends' from the old days.
Max doesn't feel like eavesdropping. He has his own plans to make and they'll have nothing to do with truth, justice or the Super Hero Way.
He's going to have blood. Heaven help anyone who might try to stop him.
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continued in Chapter 3...
Thank you for reading!
Reviews and thoughts are very much appreciated.
PT