Thanks guys, for all of the reviews! I love to hear what you're thinking of the story so far, and your thoughts on the progression of the characters- it really makes my day. :)
Many thanks to arnold the female purple pygmy puff for her beta work!
Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.
Chapter Four- Things of the Past
Dad burst through the door, his face shining just as Mom and I had settled on the couch to watch TV.
"You'll never guess what I just heard!" Dad said excitedly. "Thomas Brenner's running for mayor!"
Mom and I stared at him blankly.
"An old acquaintance of mine from Sky High," he explained. "He had the power of intangibility- could turn himself into mist. Or was it smoke? Oh well, it was something like that. Can you believe it? A Super Hero, running for mayor! I'm sure going to vote for him." Dad sighed, twenty year-old memories flashing across his face. "He was a great guy. And really smart. Just what this city needs."
"That's great Dad," I said. As far as I knew, there had never been a Super Hero as mayor of Maxville.
"It certainly is. Hey, maybe I should go and see him. You know, put in a good word for you. You never know- he might need an assistant or something."
"Uh, no thanks," I said slowly.
"Oh come on Annie, it wouldn't hurt to ask. And it'd sure save you the hassle of making up excuses to civilians when you need to go save the city."
"That's just it. Mr. Brenner would need someone reliable, not a Hero who'd go rushing off every time someone needed help."
Dad frowned a little, but didn't say anything else. Mom cleared her throat. "Charles, we were just about to watch a movie. Why don't you come join us?"
So he did, settling himself next to Mom. We didn't say much the rest of the evening.
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"Good morning," I groaned out to no one in particular.
"Anna, in here. I'm getting breakfast ready," my mother called out from in the kitchen. I exhaled heavily. A good meal was exactly what I needed.
Dad was sitting in his usual chair at the kitchen table, just as my mother set down a cup of coffee in front of him. She looked up to greet me with a smile, and her face flooded with dismay.
"Anna, what happened to your eye?" she whispered.
"It's nothing, really. I just-" That was all I got out before a slab of beef was pressed to my face. Boy, did Mom move fast.
It had been a particularly busy night of crime-fighting: a convenience store robbery, a car-jacking, some crazed Super Villain trying to steal plutonium at a laboratory and to top it off, a bar fight which turned ugly very quickly. Scarlett and I were able to subdue several brawlers long enough for the police to arrive, but not without receiving a few blows in the process. Some guy threw a blind punch and it unfortunately caught me right in the face. Scarlett didn't get off so easily either- she suffered from a sprained wrist as a result of the melee, but not without sending two people to the hospital.
What a night. It took me a half hour to get the blood stains off of my costume and shield.
"Mom I'm okay, I swear," I said, even as she continued to fuss over me.
"Diane, she's fine. You know this kind of thing comes with the job." Dad tried to sound offhand and casual, but I noticed his eyes kept roaming towards the large bruise around my right eye.
Mom reluctantly left me alone, but not before putting the raw meat in my hand. I set it down on the nearest plate as soon as her back was turned.
"So what's on the agenda today, Annie?" Dad asked as I pulled up a chair.
"Well, it's my day off at the grocery store, so unless something goes down in the city…" I trailed off as I saw my dad's expression. "What?"
"Have you given any thought about your new job?"
My mother gave him a disapproving glance, but my father was looking at me expectantly.
I groaned inwardly, tired of my father's prodding. I had given it some thought, though perhaps not as much I should have. But I was so busy lately with saving people, and I was nearly always tired. The last thing I wanted to do at the moment was worry about my career, or lack of one.
"I've been thinking about it Dad. But I'm still not sure what I want to do."
"I understand that you want some time, but you can't wait around trying to decide forever. It doesn't seem right, a Super Hero stocking canned peas."
I gave him a sharp stare. "Well I'm sorry if I'm embarrassing you."
"Honey, that's not what he meant," Mom said.
"I know what he meant," I said sullenly.
"Annie, I just want you to be successful."
I turned to face him. "I help people every day. I save lives. As far as I'm concerned, I am successful."
"All right, that's enough talk," Mom said firmly. She pushed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast towards me. "Eat and not a word, both of you."
Dad and I knew that tone. We did as we were told.
After breakfast, I thanked Mom and walked out of the kitchen without so much as looking my father. It wasn't his intention to upset me I knew, but I couldn't help it.
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"What happened to you?" Warren asked perfunctorily from across the table, referring to the magnificent shiner I was now sporting.
I picked up my can of soda and tried not to roll my eyes, if only because it would hurt. Well, more than it already did. "Bar fight."
"Wow. You really didn't strike me as the type, Anna."
"Oh you're funny," I said dryly, as he ducked his head to hide a smile. I gracefully decided to say nothing of the large bruise on his forearm. If we were to comment on every visible injury suffered as a result of crime-fighting, nothing would ever get done.
I'd gone to see Warren at Maxville University that afternoon after taking a much needed nap. Because it was Sunday he'd only had one class, one he'd just finished prior to my arrival. Now we were in the campus cafeteria, which was mostly empty. I'd just finished reading the newspaper, which was headlined Hero Advocate Thomas Brenner Takes City Hall by Storm.
Warren was working on a draft paper for some psychology class. "So what made you decide to brave the rain and come see me?"
"Your awesome personality of course," I told him with a straight face as I folded the newspaper.
"I'm touched." His lopsided grin faded. "But seriously. Something's wrong."
I lowered my eyes. I thought I'd done a good job of seeming okay. "My dad and I have been getting into it a little lately. He's… he's been on me about finding another job."
"Thought that's what you wanted."
"I never told you that."
"Come on, Anna. You know you hate that job," he said matter-of-factly as he opened another text book.
I gave a short sigh. "Okay, so I do. But does he have to pester me about it?"
"Your dad's just looking out for you."
"Whose side are you on anyway?" I complained.
"Hey, I'm trying to be fair."
I shook my head, hating how right he was. "I know. I know you are."
Warren gave me a calculating look. "Here, make yourself useful," he said, pushing over one of his books. "Help me finish this paper. The Nature versus Nurture Debate, Chapter Four."
Just like old times, I thought, remembering when we'd spent hours in the Sky High library working on that fated Hero History report. But I didn't voice these thoughts. I turned to the bookmarked page and began reading.
That was how we spent the rest of the afternoon. It was surprising how easily I fell back into the rhythm of doing stuff like this- papers, research, etc. I never really appreciated it much when I was in school. But now I realized that I kind of missed it.
When it grew dark, we got something to eat at a nearby place. Warren told me about his professors and what he learned in his various classes; the minor but vaguely entertaining incidents that occurred around campus, and the upcoming midterms. I'd never heard him talk so openly about anything before. His smiles came without its usual hesitation- the college experience was clearly doing him some good.
We left the restaurant about an hour after we finished our meal. The downpour had stopped for now. An upward glance revealed a muddy-looking sky, threatening more rain to come. Still, I preferred this to snow.
Warren drove carefully on the rain slick streets; I was already well on my way to the sleep I'd missed out on the night before. But Warren pulled up at the corner of my street before I could go fully under.
"Thanks for the lift," I said.
"Thanks for the visit," he answered. He sounded like he meant it.
"Anna?!"
I jumped and whirled around. My father was standing outside just outside the door, holding a bag of groceries and looking furious. He had caught me so completely off guard that I froze in my seat, not knowing what to do or say. Warren seemed to be in the same state.
My father yanked the door open. "Get out of that car," he ordered.
The anger in his voice got me moving; I did as he asked. But unfortunately so did Warren. He got out and came around the car, his hands held up in an almost surrendering gesture.
"Mr. Arrian, this is my fault-"
But that was as far as he got. My father dropped the groceries and the cane that he was using. With a cry, he grabbed Warren by the collar and slammed him into the hood of the car.
"I warned you," he growled as he threw Warren against the hood again. "I warned you!"
"Dad, stop!" I screamed, shocked. I grabbed his arms and tried to yank him away, but his stance was surprisingly solid for someone who used a cane. When my father showed no signs of backing off, I had no choice. Powering up, I used my light force to pull him backwards. He lost his footing for a moment and stumbled into me, but I was able to keep him upright before we both ended up on the ground.
"Warren- go," I pleaded. He hesitated for a moment. Then with a regretful look he straightened his jacket, got into the car and drove off.
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My father was pacing back and forth in the living room with visible difficulty. I didn't know where Mom was- probably out, or asleep upstairs. At any rate, I found myself wishing that she was here. She'd be on my side, I knew.
"What do I have to do to get you to listen to me? How many times do I have to tell you before you'll understand? Nothing good's going to come out of you associating with that kid!"
"Something already has," I said quietly.
"Oh really? Like what? Like you sneaking around? Lying to me about where you are? Talking back? You were never like this before."
"I never wanted to lie, Dad! But what choice did you give me? You won't even try to see things my way. It's crazy having to be punished for a feud that happened two decades ago!"
"Don't trivialize this, Anna! This is a thousand times more serious than you understand!"
"I know it is, Dad." I lowered my voice, trying to bring things under control. "I know it is. But it doesn't have anything to do with me or Warren. We're not hurting anyone and he's my friend. Why is that so terrible?"
My father stopped pacing long enough to face me. His expression was that of stoic defiance. "No, Anna. I'm sorry, but I'm not arguing this out with you again. You are not going near that kid anymore and that's the end of it."
"I'm not?" The question sounded strangely dull to my own ears.
"No, you're not!"
"And how do you intend to stop me?"
There it was. The words were out and nothing could take them back again.
My father paused, and his eyes clouded over with incredulity and anger, pinning me down where I stood.
"What did you say?"
It had been a long time since I'd heard that tone of voice. For a second my courage failed and the stirrings of an apology began to make itself known in my mind. But I wouldn't give in. I was tired of always giving in and relenting to my father's orders. It would be three weeks until I turned eighteen; I was an official Guardian of the City for heaven's sake. Why did he keep treating me like a child?
"I said," my voice would not falter, "'How do you intend to stop me?'"
My father said nothing, watching me with a shocked indignation that was rare for him. And I waited for the ball to drop, for the painful words to start flying that one- or both- of us would regret later.
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Déjà vu.
I was walking out into the storm again; this time, to a place I was unsure of. It was kind of hard to see anything. The neighborhood houses were blurry water-colored shadows. The gutters were overflowing. My boots sloshed along the sidewalk and I tried to pick up my pace, wiping away tears as well as the rain.
I should have let the argument end before it came to this.
I couldn't even remember how it happened exactly. One minute I was trying to get my father to see reason, and the next we were having an impromptu screaming match. It was loud enough to bring Mom downstairs at last. She'd tried to temper things, which Dad was more than willing to acquiesce to. I however, wasn't.
I said, we were going to resolve this tonight.
Dad snapped that it was simple enough, just leave Warren alone-
That was not an option! I told him heatedly.
Mom yelled that that was enough!
Only Dad and I didn't listen this time.
There were more words. Too many words, rushing out so sharp and fast between us, I doubt any of them made sense. It went on for some time until… the ultimatum came: I either listened to my father and stayed away from Warren, or I kept on with this self-destructive behavior.
But not in his house.
Mom had said something else then- her voice high, shocked. I didn't remember what it was, but I did remember that she used my father's full name.
After that, there were no more words. I stormed out of the room. Out of the house.
I walked three or four blocks before I realized that I didn't know where I was going. I didn't even have my umbrella- I'd forgotten it in all the chaos. Lovely.
Lightning flashed, followed by a boom of thunder which jolted me out of my miserable thoughts. For a few seconds I stood on the rain drenched sidewalk, not knowing where to go. Strangely enough, my mind wandered to the last time I had 'run away'. I was eight years old and ironically it was because Mom and Dad had gotten into a pretty intense argument about his Hero work. I never knew the specifics and they never told me. At the time though, I'd thought that they didn't love each other anymore and that I was somehow the reason, so I left. I'd made a couple of sandwiches, filled a bottle with water and put it in my knapsack, along with some of my favorite books and a small blanket. In no time at all I was ready to go- eight years old, and about to start a life on my own.
But I didn't get far that day. I'd found refuge in the one other place I'd ever called home. And almost unwillingly, I found myself there once again.
It was a place I'd taken great pains to avoid for months. But it was raining and late. I had no money with me, and I didn't know where else to go.
I rang the bell and waited. I couldn't believe I was doing this.
The door opened and my aunt stood there staring at me, as if frozen.
"Aunt Nia? Please…can I come in?"
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It had been a long time since I'd seen Aunt Nia and Uncle Matthew. Which was understandable I suppose- spending time with the person whose son you killed wasn't exactly at the top of my list of things to do. I'd visited once or twice at first, back when we tried prematurely to put the horror of Paul's death behind us. But it was just too painful- I couldn't do it. Aunt Nia's and Uncle Matthew's visits to my own house swiftly became fewer; their phone calls soon became non-existent. My parents didn't know how to deal with it.
And so what was one big family became two smaller ones.
Aunt Nia looked different. She'd cut her hair, and was somewhere thinner than I remembered. Drenched as I was, she pulled me into a hug - an action borne out of a lifetime of habit more than anything. Still, I couldn't help but think that my aunt must have been the most forgiving woman on the planet. Uncle Matthew nodded a greeting, but couldn't quite look at me. I didn't blame him.
What was I doing here?
Shaky and stammering, I half-explained that I'd gotten into a fight with my father. Leaving out the Warren factor seemed best. My aunt didn't ask any questions. In fact, she barely spoke at all. She hung up my wet things and said that I could sleep in the spare bedroom.
She didn't have a spare bedroom. Not really. She meant Paul's room.
I delayed having to go in there as long as I could. I had the mother of all long showers. I brushed my teeth over and over again. I took my time putting on the night clothes Aunt Nia had given me. I stood outside the door for a full five minutes. When I finally did open it, I felt a shock run through me.
Perhaps I expected white sheets covering everything, like in the movies. An air of melancholy and emptiness, something to mark the finality of Paul being gone. But my cousin's room looked exactly the same as it always had. Same hastily-made bed. Same shoes thrown carelessly everywhere. Same brightly colored music posters on the wall (although I noticed a very fine layer of dust on those). Somehow, that seemed worse. Like the room went on existing as it always had, even without its former occupant.
I got into the bed and tried not to look at anything.
The worst of the storm came down around midnight. It assaulted the roof, piercing my dreams with loud images that made no sense at all. Lightning flashed erratically behind my eyelids every few seconds like flashbacks of the present. It made me worried- this could so easily turn into a nightmare.
I was curled up under Paul's too-heavy blankets, trying to get comfortable. But it was all kinds of creepy sleeping in his bed like this. There was no way, simply no way at all that I would fall asl-
Wake up Anna.
Groggily, I opened my eyes.
And wished that they were closed again.
Paul was sitting on the bed, looking down at me with a pleasantly surprised expression.
"Hey cuz," he said.