Chapter 11: Discoveries
Two pairs of eyes were determinedly fixed on the television set, the sole source of light in Will's bedroom. Will sat crossed-legged on his bed, frowning slightly, the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he tapped his Xbox controller furiously. Lash lounged on a beanbag at the floor, a smug grin spreading across his face.
Lash wasn't enjoying this. No way. Will Stronghold was the most annoying person he had ever had the misfortune to encounter. He babbled endlessly about all sorts of crap. Or monologued to be precise, either not knowing or not caring that Lash wasn't being particularly loquacious. And he had far too much enthusiasm than could be considered healthy for a normal human being.
The sounds of screeching tyres and revving engines filled the room as Will and Lash continued to play the game. Lash tried to focus on the images that flickered on the screen to keep himself from thinking about the previous events of that evening. Meeting up with Speed at the mall had unsettled him more than he cared to admit, even in the privacy of his own mind. Bizarrely, he had actually been pleased when Stronghold showed up. But then, the other options were either for him to fight Speed as Warren, or for Layla to step in and for Lash to lose Speed's respect.
Even more bizarrely, he didn't hate practising with Will for the Save the Citizen tryouts as much as he assumed he would. Lash was sick with envy at Coach Boomer's blatant favouritism by allowing Warren and Will private access to the Holo-Room, but even he had to reluctantly acknowledge that Will was a skilled partner who displayed a surprising amount of foresight as well as athleticism. And messing around in the Holo-Room was pretty damn cool. Lash had never experienced anything like it.
The Holo-Room was Mr Medulla's tour de force, designed to test and train the students' powers via a complex series of sophisticated holographic scenarios. Boomer was right, the international Save the Citizen simulations were really tough. Unlike the ordinary high school version, all contestants entered as heroes and fought against such obstacles such as multiple villain teams and varying terrains and weather conditions. Sometimes there was more than one citizen, and they weren't always easy to find.
There were still some glitches in the system, however, which meant that Medulla was reluctant to unveil the Holo-Room officially as yet – on the program that was supposed to feature a battle against the quintessential hero foe, the giant robot, Will and Lash instead found themselves pitted against a giant rabbit. Which, admittedly, was pretty scary in its own way, being in possession of axe-sharp, door-sized incisors.
Lash wasn't really sure why he accepted Will's offer of having dinner at his place after practice. Although it did sound marginally more appealing than spending time with Mrs Peace, who was still doing her night of the living dead routine and who hadn't left the apartment or changed out of her dressing gown since yesterday morning.
Weirdly, the Stongholds actually seemed to like each other. Their good-natured banter at the dinner table was clear evidence of that. Mealtimes at the Langford house were usually quite bleak, silent affairs, even if the food was impeccable. This realisation made Lash uneasy. He wasn't sure why it should. It wasn't his fault his dad was such an embarrassment. If he was more than a damn sidekick, maybe things would've been different… That last thought made him feel even more uncomfortable for some reason.
"How can you actually be winning?" Will demanded through clenched teeth, snapping Lash out of his thoughts. "You never play on this! You usually say something like, 'video games cause neurological inertia, give me a good Camus any day'."
Lash's brow wrinkled. What was a camoo? Some sort of gay slang? He smiled at his little joke. Peace was so lame. He thought of the look Warren had given him just before he went into Will's house and his smirk widened.
"Afraid of a little competition, Stronghold?" he asked, chuckling when he beat Will in yet another race.
"Aww, man!" said Will as he threw his controller to the floor in frustration. The plastic casing instantly cracked and shattered.
"Damn it!"
Josie Stronghold entered the bedroom carrying a large bowl of cheesy nachos and a couple of glasses of coke. The ice clinked against the glasses as she set them down on Will's desk.
"William," she chided, picking up the remains of the controller. "You ought to learn to control that temper, these things don't grow on trees, you know."
Will looked at his mother with a mock-pout.
"Ask Dad how many phones he pulverised this morning when the bank kept putting him on hold and he had to repeat his name, date of birth and account number to about ten different people."
The corners of Mrs Stronghold's mouth twitched.
"It's taken years of intense training to get your father to become the paradigm of self-restraint he is today, but he has his lapses." She pinched Will's cheek. "But I expect better from you!"
Lash tore his eyes away from the game to watch Mrs Stronghold leave the room. For an older woman, she actually looked pretty good. She was currently in her real estate guise, in a fitted pencil-skirt and satin blouse, her hair swept up in an elegant chignon.
"Stronghold, your mom is a fox."
Will spluttered a mouthful of coke onto his bedroom carpet.
"What?"
"Yeah, especially in her Jetstream costume," Lash continued wistfully.
"Dude, do not talk about my mom like that. Ever."
Lash laughed. "Do you think she'd put on her cape if I asked her nicely? Or maybe I should ask for a signed photo…"
"Warren! That's just gross! You're sick, you know that?"
Lash continued to snort with laughter. The look on Stronghold's face was priceless.
"Seriously though, you carry on like that and you know I won't hesitate to punch you through a couple of walls," Will said, glaring in the semi-darkness.
"Heh. Temper, temper. What did your mom just tell you about self-control, William? Maybe I just bring out the worst in you."
"Maybe. Though it's not just me that you seem to be bringing the worst out of lately."
Lash looked at Will blankly and crunched on a nacho.
"Come on, Warren, how long are we going to dodge the elephant in the room? Your run-in with Layla? What was that all about?" Will asked, getting up from his bed to switch on a lamp and turn off the television.
Lash shrugged indolently. "I dunno. She's a chick. Who knows why women do what they do?"
"But… It doesn't make sense!" Will persisted, running his fingers through his hair in aggravation. "Layla can't even swat flies without spiralling into major guiltage. Why would she attack you?"
Lash looked away from Will's accusing eyes and spotted the calendar on Will's wall. Stronghold seemed to have some obsessive compulsive thing about crossing the dates off… God, was it really tomorrow? He couldn't believe that he had almost forgotten. Lash dropped a nacho back into the bowl. He suddenly felt queasy. What could he do while he was like this, while he was stuck in this body? There was a horrible tight feeling coiling up in his stomach.
Lash found Stronghold wasn't as dense as he looked; he seemed to notice that something was amiss.
"Warren," Will's tone had immediately changed from irritation to worry. "Are you OK?"
He wasn't going to let this get to him. Not here, not now.
"I'm fine."
"God, Warren," said Will, his voice edged with exasperation. "It wouldn't kill you to really talk to me once in a while. I'm supposed to be your friend. You can tell me anything." He thought for a moment. "I don't know how great my advice would be, but sometimes it just helps to talk things through."
Stronghold had an earnest look on his face. In all their years as friends, Speed never asked Lash how he was or looked at him like that. But Lash didn't expect him to. Guys didn't discuss this stuff. Talking about something wasn't going to make it any better. And if he was going to spill to someone, it sure as hell wasn't gonna be to Stronghold.
"Stronghold, you're an idiot."
Will crossed his arms against his chest. "Don't think you can evade the issue by insulting me."
No, I can do that by leaving, Lash thought, heaving himself to his feet and slipping on Warren's leather jacket.
"You're going?"
"No, I just wanted to wear my coat," Lash replied scathingly. "Yes, of course I'm going, Stronghold."
"Oh," said Will. He looked a little crestfallen. "Um, are we practising again tomorrow?"
Lash's face darkened. "No," he said and left without any further explanation.
Warren found himself pacing around Layla's room. What was Lash doing? As soon as he got his body back, he was going to roast the bastard. Warren went to Layla's window when he heard the Strongholds' back door click shut and saw Lash stalk away into the night. He looked far from happy. Warren curled up on Layla's window seat and pushed his head against the glass, watching his breath mist the windowpane. He desperately needed to see Will; he had to find out what poisonous seeds Lash had been planting.
After some time, Warren heard some more movement outside. He craned his neck and could just about make out Will climbing out of his bedroom window and lying down on the roof. Warren shook his head. Sometimes Stronghold did the weirdest things, what was he going to do, sleep out there? For a long while, Warren continued to gaze into the darkness. He wanted to speak to Will, but he was supposed to be grounded. He didn't fancy facing Mrs Williams' wrath a second time.
Warren noticed a conveniently placed birch tree next to Will's window.
What the hell, he thought. I just better not get caught.
As is usually the case, the idea itself was infinitely simpler than the execution of it. Warren had somehow managed to clamber out of Layla's window without attracting attention, but had stumbled at the hurdle of trying to control the birch tree. He knew he could use Layla's chlorokinesis to a high level, the fight with Lash was proof of that. Warren cleared his mind and concentrated, resting his hand on the trunk. He could sense the sap pumping slowly beneath the bark, the roots drinking from deep within the soil.
Plants seemed even more sluggish at night, which made this all the more difficult. Warren found himself missing his fire, which was a little ironic considering all the years he hated being a pyro when he was a kid, initially because he was scared of hurting someone when he lost control, later because the flames clearly marked him as Barron Battle's son.
He could feel the tree steadily growing beneath his tingling fingertips. With a colossal effort, he made the birch lower a thick branch and lift him off the ground. But he still couldn't reach the section of roof outside Will's window. Warren wondered if Stronghold had fallen asleep, he wasn't even stirring.
The gap wasn't that wide, Warren thought. He could jump for it… No, maybe not. As Warren dithered on the branch, the tree began shrinking back to its normal size. The branch started to bend under Warren's weight and he lost his balance, his foot scrambling for purchase on the smooth bark and failing. He plunged backward, a gasp barely leaving his lips, when he felt solid arms wrapping around him. Will's arms. They were hovering in mid-air. Will was contradictory like that. He could still be a klutz with two left feet at times, but when it really counted, when he wasn't even thinking about it, Will could pull off these feats of brilliance. Saving Ethan was a case in point.
Warren revelled in the feel of Will's body pressed against his, the sensation of hard muscle beneath Will's t-shirt. He knew he must have had it bad when Will delicately lowered him on the roof tiles and he actually physically ached to have his arms around him again.
"Layla, what are you doing sneaking around?"
"Er, I've been grounded," Warren explained sheepishly.
Will's eyes widened. "I heard your mom's back from Mexico. She's going to freak if she finds out about this."
Warren liked Layla. He had never told her, and probably never would, but he would always be grateful to her for asking him to homecoming last year, it had been the catalyst that had transformed his life and had actually made high school bearable. Warren didn't want to get her into even more trouble. It was all Lash's fault, he thought, knowing how childish it was to think like this. He had to accept some responsibility for his actions.
Will sighed heavily, hugging his knees as he sat on the roof. "But I'm glad you're here. I need to know… Is… Is there something going on between you and Warren?"
There was something odd about the way Will said it. Was that a trace of jealousy? Was Will having second thoughts about breaking up with Layla?
Warren knew that if he was silent for long enough, Will's confessional tendencies would kick in and he would soon find out what was bothering him.
As predicted, Will sighed again and carried on. "I know your love life is none of my business. It's just… I mean… Thing is…"
For chrissakes, Stronghold, Warren inwardly screamed, just spit it out!
"Warren's not… I mean, why would you go for Warren?" Will frowned.
It was as if Warren felt the full force of Will driving his fist into his stomach. Now I get to find out what Will really thinks of me, he thought, and clearly the answer is not much.
"You don't think he's good enough for me?" he asked quietly.
It was happening again. Bianca had been one thing, but if Will felt the same… Had he been lying every time he told Warren he had nothing to be ashamed about?
"Layla," Will said sharply. "Now I know you have turned completely insane! That is not it at all. What I meant was that you and Warren aren't exactly compatible."
Warren felt himself slump slightly with relief.
"There's nothing going on between me and Warren, Will."
Will shook his head and tutted.
"I'm not totally clueless, despite what you and Warren might think." He paused. "OK, so maybe I can be a little on the clueless side at times, but I'm not stupid enough to be blind to the fact that my two best friends are keeping things from me."
Warren couldn't blame Will for getting worked up about this. Of course Will wasn't stupid, of course he knew something wasn't right. But he couldn't tell him. Medulla had made sure of that...
"There's nothing going on, Will," Warren repeated, hating himself for lying, and hating the fresh look of hurt that flashed on Will's face.
"Fine. Whatever. Goodnight."
Warren swore softly in Chinese as Will retreated to his bedroom. Were any of them going to have any friends left by the time they got their bodies back?
Lash didn't show up at Sky High the next day. Warren felt as if Will was holding him personally responsible, he barely spoke to him all day. And Magenta was being unusually icy towards him. It was Layla's first day in hero classes and Warren guessed that Maj thought she was being a sell-out. It was left to Zach to act as mediator and to keep the conversation going when they were all together, but by the end of the day, even he began to crumple under all of the tensions simmering among the group.
Fortunately for Warren, Layla was still unaware of the sudden change in her curriculum, but she had noticed Lash's absence. She wondered if it had something to do with Mr Langford's mysterious instructions to meet him at the Maxville General Hospital after school. He seemed particularly tense that morning. If only Lash had told her what was going on with his family. She just didn't know what to expect next, and it was obvious that today was supposed to be important for some reason.
Unknown to Layla as she and Mr Langford made their way through the euphemistically titled Special Wing of the Maxville General, Warren and Will had raced through those very same twisty, sterile corridors only a few days earlier. Layla felt herself grow increasingly edgy as they entered the Long-Term Unit, where the nurses seemed to be expecting them. What was going on?
Finally, they stopped at a door near the back of the ward. As soon as Mr Langford opened it, Layla was hit by the unmistakable sweet perfume of lilies. Mr Langford stepped into the room first and Layla walked into his back when he stopped suddenly at the doorway.
"You?" Layla could hear the anger bubbling in Mr Langford's voice. "What are you…?"
Layla peered over his shoulder. Lash was sitting at the bedside of a very still, dark-haired woman. His face was pale and drawn and there was something strange about his eyes. It was almost as if they were pleading with her.
"Uh... Oh hi, Warren!" she said brightly, hoping that she sounded as if she had been expecting him. She looked at Mr Langford and rubbed the bridge of her nose nervously. "Dad… um… I asked La-Warren to meet me here because... um… we're… going to the library to… um… study. Yeah… um… we're working on a project together at school."
Lash tried not to roll his eyes. Whatever Layla's talents were, deception was not one of them.
Mr Langford frowned as he looked uncertainly between Lash and Layla. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but at that moment a nurse walked in from behind Layla.
"Evening, Mr Langford," she smiled. "Dr Aston has asked to have a quick word with you."
Layla closed the door behind Mr Langford and sat next to Lash. So, Mrs Langford hadn't been killed… She wasn't on a ventilator, but she seemed to be in some sort of coma, her dark eyes opened from time to time, but they were glassy and unseeing. She bore little resemblance to the strikingly poised woman in the painting hanging in the Langford's hallway. With her pallid, papery skin she reminded Layla of an etiolated plant, slowly fading away.
Along with a birthday card, there was a large bouquet of calla lilies on her bedside table. Layla could never understand why people liked cut flowers as she found the mutilated stalks macabre. Flowers weren't decorations, they were living creatures. But these lilies were beautiful, with their milky white petals and long, graceful stems. Beautiful, but sad.
"The flowers are gorgeous," she said, more for something to say than anything else.
Lash smiled fondly as he looked at his mother.
"Yeah, Mom loved lilies. She used to grow a whole heap in the garden…" he stopped and a guarded expression clouded his eyes. It was a look that wasn't entirely out of place on Warren's face.
Layla saw that there was an envelope in between the flowers and the card. Lash had written his mother a letter, knowing that she wouldn't be able to read it. This was all just too awful for words. This had to be the reason Mr Langford went inactive and was now working in the comparatively tame world of finance. Did he feel guilty that his wife had been so badly injured in their last battle together? How must Lash feel, being trapped in a limbo of grief, having lost his mother, but for her to still be alive?
"Lash, I'm so sorry," she said softly, squeezing his shoulder.
Lash looked at Layla and saw his own face, worried and sincere. He pulled away from her hand quickly.
"Yeah, so now you know everything about me. Happy?"
"Of course not," said Layla reasonably. "I can't imagine how this must be for you…"
"You're right, you can't imagine." Lash's words lacked any real bite, he just sounded tired.
The following silence was punctured by a definite rumble from Lash's stomach. Layla couldn't stop herself. Lash had some worrying vendetta against Will, he was spiteful and cruel to sidekicks and he must've done something to Warren yesterday to make him go ballistic like that, with the end result of Layla getting detention for the first time, but this was painful. It just wasn't in her nature to feel animosity towards someone who was suffering like this.
"Look, if you're hungry, there's a great little diner a couple of streets away from my house that does fabulous raspberry and lemon muffins." At the mention of muffins, Lash's stomach gave a louder growl. He hadn't eaten all day. He sighed. It sounded tempting, even if it meant he had to associate with one of Stronghold's cronies…
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A/N
Ah, thank you ladies and gents for your lovely, shiny reviews! They make me feel all warm and fuzzy and encourage me to keep on writing. Any comments at all are always most welcome.
The end is getting close now, I'd say there's probably two chaps at most left, so watch this space…
AzulTigress
