The drive home was silent; the two adults reluctant to say anything for fear of waking the sleeping teen in the back seat. Thus each were lost in their own thoughts. But as their house came into view, their thoughts began to run along the same lines.
How were they supposed to get the teen out of the car and into the house without waking him, or more importantly, without hurting him?
Steve had had to remind himself when he caught a glimpse of the teen every time he checked his rear view mirror that Barry Battle was not sitting in his back seat. He had to remind himself again as he purposefully glanced back as the question of how to get him out of the car arose in his mind.
Would it be better to wake him? Or would it be better to try to maneuver him out of the car without waking him? If it would be better to let him sleep…how in the world were they going to do that? Steve didn't know how tall the teen was. He couldn't recall ever actually seeing the kid before. And bundled up in a blanket in a wheel chair didn't really help one get a good feeling for the physical size of someone. Barry hadn't exactly been a small man, and glancing back and noting how much of the back seat that kid took up; Steve knew that it was going to be impossible to get the teen out of the car without doing some form of damage to either him or the car.
Josie had a better idea of how tall Warren was. And from helping nurse Cindy get him into the wheel chair, had a better idea of how much he weighed. Once that thought popped up it set off a whole new track of mothering instincts. Surely someone his size should weigh more. Or was it just that she was so used to her husband and own son's weight. Super strength came with super dense muscles, and therefore more weight. While one part of her brain tried to work that out, another part was working on the problem of how to get him out of the car. She was a woman, multitasking and carrying on more than one thought process at a time was part of her genetic code. As Steve put the car in park in their drive way she came to the conclusion: they weren't getting him out of the car without doing damage to him, or the car.
They both looked over their shoulders to look at the sleeping teen. After about a minute of silent contemplation, Josie looked to Steve and Steve looked to Josie. They both knew instantly that they had been thinking the same thing.
Josie got out of the car and gently closed her door and then opened the rear passenger door. She lightly put her hand on Warren's shoulder and gently shook as she quietly called his name. When he didn't so much as twitch she glanced at Steve. Steve shrugged before getting out of the car and walking around to where she was.
"You go around to the other side and help angle him out." Steve said. "I'll get him from here."
Both adults weren't sure if they should be worried at the lack of response as they slowly and gently pulled the teen from the back seat. Once Steve had him awkwardly cradled in his arms, Josie asked, "He's ok right? You think he's ok?" Seriously, how could carrying a six-foot something, broad shouldered young man with casts and smothered in blankets not be awkward?
"I'm sure he's fine." Steve grunted as he walked to the door. "I'm sure he's just tired from all the moving around that he's done today. We'll check him over once we get in the house."
By this time there was a crowd of spectators in the front hallway. The grandparents had done their best to corral the younger ones away from the door, but they could see the worry clearly on everyone's face and so didn't even try to shoo them off to another part of the house. They had all watched the news coverage of the latest city take over ploy. They had all seen the damage caused by the fuel tanker exploding. Everyone knew that the teen the adult Strongholds had gone to retrieve was a Pyro. And everyone in the house was well aware that Pyro's while not indestructible were dang near.
The mild but subdued panicked worry that had seeped into the consciousness of the five teens in the house spiked as soon as they saw Mr. Stronghold carrying a large lump of blanket. Every single one of them knew that Warren would have to be on death's door to allow anyone to carry him in such a manner, let alone Steven Stronghold.
They watched from the hall as Josie quickly opened the front door and got as much out of the way as the front entry would allow. Steve quickly angled himself and his burden through the door, which Josie swiftly shut behind him. Steve didn't bother to pause on his way to and up the stairs. Josie spared the gathered group of teens and family members a glance that promised an explanation as soon as they came back down.
Grandma West and Grandma Stronghold quickly put their arms around as many of the teens as they could and guided them into the dining room. "Come on now. Lets move into the dining room. You all can snitch as much as you want." Grandma Stronghold tried to distract them.
"Eat?" Zack asked. "You want us to eat?" Will and Layla looked a little too shell-shocked to do anything but impersonate zombies.
"I'm too nervous to eat right now." Magenta said.
"He has to be ok." Ethan said firmly. His announcement was met with the questioning gazes of his shaken friends. "Logic would state that the doctors wouldn't have released him if he wasn't ok."
Will blinked at his friend. "I suppose you're right." He finally said after a moment of contemplative silence. "But it's just…and he's…and…" he was unable to complete a full sentence.
"Yah I know dude." Zack said.
"Ethan is right." Magenta said, her arms wrapped around her middle.
Homecoming had thrown the six of them into the hero world earlier than they had expected. And since everything had turned out all right none of them (except maybe Warren) had give the real dangers they had faced a second thought. Will and Layla had completely brushed off his little swan dive through the gym windows and off the edge of the school. And since it turned out that he could fly, none of them had been hurt in the fiasco. This was the first time that they were forced to contemplate the consequences of their parents did; of what they were training to do. This was the first time they had to face up to the idea that any of them could be hurt.
And if Warren could be so badly hurt, what chance did the rest of them have save Will?
So with sobering thoughts of their own vulnerabilities and worry for their friend they nervously began devouring the appetizers that Will's grandmothers had thrown together and waited for Steve and Josie to come back down and tell them what had happened.
Josie trailed close behind Steve as he moved up the stairs. Both guest rooms were occupied, so at the top of the stairs Josie scooted around Steve and made her way to Will's bedroom door. She opened it and held it just as she had done with the front door, then moved to turn down the blanket on Will's bed. She had made Will promise that while the family was visiting he would keep his room clean, weights picked up and bed made. If he did that she would give him a pass on his X-box the next time he did something worthy of taking away his privileges.
Steve gently transferred the teen in his arms to the bed and stepped back to watch Josie arrange the blankets around him. Now that he actually took the time to look at the sleeping teen, he realized that though he bore resemblance to his father, he wasn't a carbon copy. He was also so very different from his own son; taller and slimmer, long dark hair where Will had short sandy brown.
Josie checked his pulse, which to her relief was strong and steady. She dug the thermometer the nurse gave her out of her pocket and pressed the button to turn it on. As easily as only a mother could she slipped the probe into his ear and waited until it beeped.
"What did the doctor tell his temperature was supposed to be?" Steve asked quietly.
"The nurse said his normal resting temperature should be within one degree of 307.2°F, but that it might be a little low until he's completely healed." Josie explained just as the thermometer beeped.
"How low is too low?" Steve asked.
"She didn't say." Josie said reading the display on the thermometer, 305.8°F. "She said if it drops more than three degrees in an hour, to take him to the emergency room."
"So he's ok for now?" Steve asked unable to read his wife's face.
"For now." Josie said. She smoothed some loose strands of hair off his forehead then tucked the blankets around his shoulders. "Let's let him sleep. We need to let Will and the others know he'll be ok before they go into hysterics.
Steve nodded in agreement and followed his wife out of the room. He would spend the next few weeks being completely amazed by her capacity for compassion and ability to care so much for someone she barely knew.