Chapter Ten

Warren was in the back, bussing the tables but his mind was dominated by the scene that was happening only a couple of miles away. It had been increasingly difficult to ignore. Even if he didn't know the people like he did now, if he knew someone was going through that kind of hell on a daily basis, he wouldn't be able to ignore it. He wasn't sure what he'd do but it's not right. Childhood isn't supposed to be riddled with that kind of shit. It's supposed to be playing and video games and friends, not having a designated hiding spot and code word when things got bad enough you had to run. It's not having an escape route planned on how to get away or being so used to something that it barely phases you anymore. It's not right no matter who it's happening to. It just made it worse that he kind of knew this chick.

True, Warren didn't know Aryana all that well and he attributed that to the fact that they are both stubborn jackasses. He felt like he understood her a little bit more now, why she always hid and tried to ignore people, both being the offspring of notorious villains but he didn't actually know her. He had actually learned more about her a couple of hours ago than he had the whole couple of days they had actually attended school. That was pretty sad considering they sat next to each other in a class and rode the same bus. But, he had to admit, if he had never met the chick before, just what he had seen her do for Tony would have been enough. Not many people willing put themselves in harm's way for another.

The thought of what was most likely happening pissed him off to the point his hands had ignited again, scorching the rag he was using to wipe down the table. He growled to himself as he tossed it into the dish tub and walked back into the kitchen for a new one. Didn't make much sense to wash a table with a half burned rag. This was already the third time he had done it.

The night went by slower than normal but the moment they were closed and he was free to go home, Warren all but sped the whole way. If he couldn't do something, maybe his mother could or knew someone who could. So, speeding down the streets, Warren made his way home, glad to see the windows in his modest house were lit up which meant she was home. He almost didn't even stop his bike completely before getting off of it. He was lucky the kickstand was second nature otherwise half of his next paycheck would be going to body work.

He threw open the door and scared the hell out of his mom whether he meant to or not. She had been in the kitchen cooking, baking really, and jumped when the door flew open. When she flew around and saw her son, the one she nearly attacked, she frowned instead of killing him like her instinct had been.

"Warren," she sighed. "Don't do that."

He could see she was flustered and honestly felt a bit bad for it. It hadn't been his intention.

"Sorry mom." he muttered, moving awkwardly as he walked into the kitchen.

"Here," she suddenly beamed like she hadn't almost thrown a knife at her own son a second ago, offering him the baking sheet she had just pulled out of the oven filled with cookies. "They're fresh."

He took one, his face still relatively blank as he grabbed the cookie right off of the sheet his mother had to wear gloves to hold. Heat never bothered him, obviously. He bit into it see her eyes light up when he smiled, his cheek filled with cookie.

"Mmm." he said, pacifying his mother before he quickly swallowed the molten chocolate. "Hey mom, can I ask you something?"

"Of course sweetie." she said absently, transferring the cookies from the sheet to the wire rack to cool. When Warren hesitated, she came to her own conclusions. Suddenly she turned around with a wide smile on her face. "Is it a girl?"

Warren's face suddenly dropped and that seemed to be all the confirmation his mother needed to start giggling.

"Oh, I knew you'd find someone Warren. Awe, what's her name? What's she like? Is she a super? Is she a villain or a hero? When can I meet her…"

"Mom!"

She would have kept going if he hadn't interrupted her. He was her only child so the thought of him apparently bringing home a girl, especially as off putting as he could be, made his mother immediately start planning weddings. It didn't even matter if he mentioned a female name in passing. She'd drill him about information and he knew she was going to do that now, but once she heard the situation, romance wouldn't be her focus.

"Well what is it?" she snapped, a bit offended he had interrupted her without making his point.

"I need to ask your advice about something."

The seriousness in his face made her realize something might actually be wrong. Her brow creased worriedly as she walked towards him. She knew her son, better than anyone and despite how he was with other people, he wasn't that way with her. Mostly because she could see right through it. It's a mother thing.

"Warren, what's wrong?"

He moved uncomfortably for a moment, trying to find the words but he soon realized it would sound bad no matter how he said it.

"I know this girl," he began, pausing to see if she would fly off the marriage handle. She didn't budge. She knew better when her son acted the way he was right now. Seeing it was safe, he continued on. "She's getting smacked around."

His mother's face suddenly shifted from warm and sweet Suzie Homemaker, to cold, cruel and damn near vengeful. He saw anger flash in his little mother's eyes that honestly made him slightly uncomfortable.

"Who is it?" she asked in a low voice.

"Her foster dad I know for sure. I'm not sure her foster mom's strong enough to lift anything heavier than a glass of booze."

She only stared at him for a moment.

"Has she called the authorities?"

"I think so." he answered unsurely. "I mean, she said something like they'd keep sending her back to him because of who her dad is."

Now she was confused.

"What does her father have anything to do with it?"

"He was a super villain and I guess she got his powers so they sent her to this guy. He's given all of the hard cases I guess."

"Are you talking about Joseph Roberts?"

Warren's face suddenly darkened.

"You know him?"

"Of him." she corrected. "I remember a while back he was praised for being able to take some of the most unruly children under his wing, supers included."

"That son of a bitch has powers. He can drain people when he touches them." he yelled.

"Warren, language." his mother scolded though she heard every word. "He can drain them? What do you mean?"

"I saw him do it. He sucks their energy, powers, whatever out of them. He can even put them in a coma if he wants to. That's how he can control all these kids. He's not a good foster parent, he's basically knocking them out and collecting the cash."

"And you know this? For a fact?" she asked. He nodded. "How?"

"Aryana," he sighed. "A girl in my class. She… got hurt… at school so I was picked to take her her work. I've been there twice already."

"Warren," she said in a weary tone that already told him he wasn't going to like what she was going to say. "I'm sorry to say but there has to be proof, something the police can see otherwise…"

"She has bruises on her face where he beat the shit out of her tonight!" he bellowed.

She looked horrified.

"Well how old is she? Can she leave?"

"She's my age… I think." he replied, not even remotely sure other than knowing she was fourteen. "And Tony's eight."

"Eight?" she asked shocked. "There's a little child there?"

He nodded solemnly. His mother looked outraged. Joyce Peace was many things, a hero, a mother, head of the neighborhood watch which made him laugh slightly, and extraordinarily kind to just about everyone. She gave people the benefit of the doubt and refused to go by what other people said, forming her own opinion first. That's how she ended up with someone like Warren's dad. She had made her own mind up about him. Whether or not he had become a super villain meant little to nothing though it did lead to her being kicked out of the league for obvious reasons. Her life as a super hero was over so she turned the rest of her protective instincts towards helping people as a civilian. It was just her nature so hearing that children were being mistreated by people that were supposed to be taking care of them, protecting them, nearly sent her over the edge.

"Sweetie, you know I'm out but if you want, I can call a few people and see if there's anything we can do for them. I'm still friends with some of the League."

"Like who?" he asked wearily.

"Well, the Strongholds for one. I know Steve still has a few favors with the Mayor."

He growled under his breath.

"Why do you even still talk to those people?" he asked angrily.

She sighed and shook her head.

"They were only doing their jobs Warren. It's what they do. Heroes fight Villains. That's it. Your father just happened to get caught." she said.

There was that unfathomable understanding again. He knew it hurt her, that he was gone, but part of her knew it was bound to happen when you were married to Barron Battle. He still grumbled under his breath at the thought.

"I don't think the League's going to want to help her."

"Well why not?" she asked confused. "Her and her friend are in a toxic environment. I don't think her father being a villain should have anything to…"

"She's the Red Devil's kid." he interrupted.

"Oh." understanding washed through her features. "Well that does present a problem."

Warren stood there for a moment while the small woman slipped deep into thought about what their options were. She lightly tapped her chin, a habit she had always had and the dead give away if you wanted to know what she was thinking. His mother wasn't anywhere near as good as Warren at hiding her emotions. She preferred to just wear them on their sleeves.

After a while, the timer dinged for the last batch of cookies in the oven. It seemed to bring her out of her mind and she turned to Warren, smiling sweetly. She lightly touched his arm, patting it gently.

"We'll think of something sweetheart." she told him, reassuring him as she turned to the oven and removed the last tray of cookies.

Warren growled under his breath that something wasn't being done about it right now but quickly realized it was ten thirty at night and there wasn't much they really could do. He made his way to his room and fell onto his bed, staring at the ceiling as he tried to rationalize anything he had seen happen but he couldn't. There simply was no rational reason someone would be like that.

Eventually he fell asleep and found himself internally hoping that they would be safe tonight. If anything, he prayed they would make it until morning without any further bodily injury.