A/N – So thanks to everyone who read Chapter 2, all 640 of you, and a special thanks to the 3 that reviewed. I also advance apologize for any spelling and grammar mistakes, and the amount of time between the posting of this chapter and chapter two. I also have pictures of what the OC Cast of this story looks like in my profile. I don't own Sky High, Disney or Leslie Feist. The Title of the story is form a song, and same for the chapter titles. Can you guess which ones? FYI BIG STUFF NEXT CHAPTER! A certain comatose girl will awake and throw Bethany for another surprise. Also, sorry if the chapter seems short, I'm in the middle or my graduation ceremonies, and getting ready for my diploma examinations.
Let It Die - Feist
Chapter 4. The choices made, the lies forgotten // Oh well, this is the way that I know
Now if you had recently been legally deviant and gotten caught, sort of, would you wait for your patient and caring father to get home and sit him down to explain the mess you had gotten yourself, you friends, and him into? Well maybe you would, but I wouldn't. I contemplated taking the honest high road out of this and preserving the "crime scene," but that thought line didn't last long. All I could see coming from it was Layla, and Magenta feeling betrayed and used by me, and my father feeling disappointed. That was probably the deal sealer right there, if he got angry I could understand that but the disappointment cut deep, I wouldn't be able to stand it if the father-daughter trusting relationship I had built these last two years.
In the end I convinced myself that it wouldn't make a difference anyways, because regardless of who found out what Patrick was still my criminal to catch. Admitting to everyone that I had screwed up wouldn't make him turn himself over to the authorities would it? No. And it certainly wouldn't do anything for my GPA.
So I settled in for an afternoon of manual labour, got out the sponges hot water and detergent, and made it look like the basement had never been stepped in. Next I set to work re-arranging the living room, putting back cushions and stuffing stray pieces of paper in my sweater pocket for later use. Thank goodness the television had been broken, that would have been hard to explain. Now that I had surveyed and patched up the damage first hand I had to admit, Patrick may be a criminal but he's a clean criminal. Either that or this was some sort of preliminary warning message to back the hell off. As long as I apprehend him soon it won't matter which of those ideas turns out to be true.
As I boarded the bus to school the next day I noticed that it was close to empty. I really wondered why I even bothered showing up, most people had put this time to better use hunting down their criminal or training with their partner in a borrowed secret sanctum for the subject challenges. A small voice in the back of my head told me it was because deep down I was hoping Warren would show up and apologize for acting like such a jerk, and then pledge to be the best Hero a Sidekick could ever desire – together we would nab Patrick and start our journey towards fame and glory. The small voice was clearly delusional, that was probably why it was small.
Once inside the school I meandered to the library where I settled myself down for a few hours where I could get intimately acquainted with the mechanics of power suppressant devices, and neutralizers.
-x-
After about an hour and a half of solid studying I had detailed out the methods of installing power suppressant fluid into a neutralizer dart or gun and had made an appointment with PIRRC to pick up some of these supplies. I was about to pack up to head over to the center when I heard some familiar voices carry over from the doorway to the library.
"Mr. Peace the gymnasium is currently not available for student use."
"Well, what if I need some equipment for my senior project."
"I am sorry Mr. Peace all equipment required for the completion of your senior project can be requested from, and provided by the PIRRC. Now if that is everything then I must be off" Powers replied.
I stepped out into the hallway as Warren turned the corner. What was with the hallways in this school? It was like they had some sort of cohesive force that pulled Warren and I together; every time I have confronted that boy it's been in a Sky High hallway. After a moment of mental debate I decided to continue the tradition, one of use had to give and approach the other and I would have bet my life that it wouldn't be him.
"Warren?" I called out. He stopped an turned to face me. I paused for a bit unsure of what to say, he was so easily offended.
"I was wondering if you uh, if you em... had given any thought to the Save the Citizen Tournaments, or the subject challenges?"
"Yes. I have given it thoughts." He stopped.
"Okay..and?"
"And when it happens we'll do it."
"'When it happen we'll do it'? Don't you want to practice or anything."
Warren offered me a cocky smirk, "I don't need to practise, you however I can't say the same for."
I blushed hot pink, how dare he! I was trying to be the bigger person and he was just belittling my efforts at being civil. But I couldn't just let him walk away, it was my marks, my life that rides on these grade too. If he doesn't want to co-operate, well I'll just make him co-operate.
"Look wait" I said before he could turn and walk away, "I know you need stuff like neutralizers and stuff from PIRRC. I just put an order in and I have an appointment to go pick it up this afternoon, you can come if you want."
After some moment of consideration Warren dipped his head a fraction of inch. I took this as a consenting nod and led the way to the school parking lot.
-x-
Once we were at PIRRC I went up to the receptionist's desk and showed her the ID card and case number that was assigned to me, well really Warren and I but I was the one who did all the work and registered for all the cards and whatnot. As I was sorting through the different equipment that had come in for me/us I could help but turn every so often and see what Warren had picked up. Lots of neutralizing equipment, maybe he was planning on deciding to work as a team with me after all. I let myself feel a little smug about the whole being a bigger person thing and breaking the awkward ice that had developed between us, not that it wasn't still awkward.
I turned arms laden with gizmos and goodies to find Warren eyes burning a hole through my cranium.
"What?"
"Nothing" he answered.
Yup, definitely still awkward. But I was okay with that, there should be some constants in life. But as we checked out the items, and piled our stuff into our bags while waiting for the shuttle bus to take us back within city limits I could still fee Warren's eyes on my back. I was having a lot of déjà vu today. First hallways meetings, now Warren staring at me. If history was about to repeat itself this meant that Warren and I were about to kill each other again, or more specifically Warren was about to kill me again.
"So you checked all this out under your name right?"
"Uh yeah"
"Don't you need an ID card and case number to check out that stuff?"
"Well yeah, I have both of those."
"You need me to fill out that Hero and Support Team registration package with me to get those, I know I checked." Wow so maybe my déjà vu wasn't déjà vu but my powers acting up to forewarn me of this conversation. It had to happen eventually, what bothered me the most was how I got caught twice in the last 24 hours. I decided to play my side of this cool, it seemed that if there was anything Warren appreciated it was being calm, collected.
"Well as far as PIRRC is concerned you did fill out that package with me."
"You forged my signature? I'm shocked sidekick didn't think you had it in you. I guess you're braver than I thought."
"Braver?"
"You went to Flanning's house the other night right?"
"How do you know that?" I said, my voice was significantly quieter than it had been before.
"Because I am trying to graduate as well, I paid him a little visit too. Except you completely fucked didn't you? Because he had a good idea about what I was trying to do." Warren pulled up the sleeve of his shirt. There was a long slash along his arm that looked fresh and red, like a cut that had just begun to heal.
"Oh Warren I'm so sorry. Here let me see." I gently held his arm and rand my index finger along the cut, I could hear a hissing noise coming from Warren. It was slightly moist with blood, and I blew on it hoping that would make it hurt less.
"Warren did you use any antiseptic or anything?"
"I don't have any antiseptic." I grimaced, well how was he supposed to clean and disinfect it then. I had tons of the stuff at my house.
"You should come to my house I can clean this for you." I heard myself say. That was stupid now he's going to say no, and it will be weird all over again.
We rode the bus to my house. Warren and I sat side by side and he kept his shirt sleeve up so that the open air could mingle with the cut, I heard that good on some show I watched once. He also allowed his arm to rest on my thigh as we sat, for inspection purposes.
Once we got to my house I sat Warren down at the kitchen table with a glass of water and hurried of to the bathroom. I returned moments later arms bearing gauze, swabs, antiseptic, and several different types and shapes of Band-Aids. As I proceeded to sterilize and clean his battle wound Warren took the opportunity to strike up what we both attempted at a civil conversation with each other.
He asked me about my family, and my dad. I asked him about his mom and his junior years of Sky High. Some of the tales he had of Stronghold were pretty funny when you threw in his dry sense of humour, especially the cafeteria fight.
"Are those pictures of you?"
"Yes." I flushed bright pink and bowed my head over arm so my hair would protect my face from his scrutiny. The pictures he was referring to were from my Sky High - school days, in those days I also wore a retainer and had to wear my plastic glasses.
We chatted for a few more minutes as I finished the sterilizing process. I had created special pseudo-sutures out of some thin material my dad always used on his scrapes after he had gotten back from a mission. All Warren had to do was replace the gauze wrap on the deeper parts of the cut every morning and he'd be fine in about a week.
I filled a little bottle with some antiseptic and put it and an extra sutures kit into a plastic bag for Warren in case he needed some extra care when he got home.
"So that's everything, you should be good to go now."
"Thanks, for uh, everything."
"No problem." I replied and handed him the bag. Some hair had fallen in front of my eyes and Warren moved his hand to brush it away, I took a small step forward to reflexively swat his hand away from my face but ended up knocking the bag of medical supplies down instead. We both bent down to pick them up and as I was rising up I came to eye level with Warren.
His eyes were lighter today but still smouldering, like pools of liquid ochre. Instinctively I leant forward as he was getting up and our lips met. I kissed him, and he kissed back. His lips were soft and full; he smelt faintly of sulphur and burning. I could feel the warm sensation of his power flowing over me, through me. And I could taste his breath on my lips. I could taste him on my lips.
Then it was over.
Faster than I thought it was possible Warren gathered his stuff of the floor or headed out the door. This time I didn't make the mistake of pursuing him.
My lips were slightly swollen from the kiss. And when I brushed my fingers across my lower lip I could still feel the heat that emanated from him on me.
"Let it die and get out of my mind Don't you wish that we could forget that kiss
We don't see eye to eye
Or hear ear to ear
And see this for what it is
That we're not in love"