A/N: Sorry for the fairly mild lateness, but I died a few times over this week from sickness (thanks to the sh*tty Chicago bus service to my school for making me wait half an hour outside in the middle of the worst blizzard of the year) and from an overload of work that transitioned from the past couple of weeks (one assignment being this big research paper for a scholarship.) So, yeah… I'm still kinda dead, so I didn't edit this one as much as I normally would have, but it would've been another week wait (at least) if I didn't post this today, so just PM me if you see anything I need to fix and I'll get around to it…eventually.

Well, this one ended up a lot longer than I thought I would, but I got to the big part with the Runners, so that's good. Lots of progress. I did end up continuing one part to the point where what I wrote needs to be in the next chapter, though, but since this is only a few days late (I think…0.0 what's the date again? (I'mjustthatdead)) it didn't put me off that much and I have a head start on the next chapter. So, this one is the first set of two action-heavy chapters that presents problems that will be solved in the next chapter. I can't think of anything else to say (dead *shot*) so I'm going to shut up now and let you all read.

Thanks to Molly Grace 16, Candlestic, Angelus Draco (glad I could cheer you up!), Halloween Witch, iwolf208, and Luna246 for your kind reviews, that inspired me to come back to life long enough to write this up!

Warning: There's a good deal of language in this chapter. The Runners *cough*Rip*cough* go a little postal…

His cousin must have been rubbing off on him, Slo-Mo mused as Jet darted about, dodging numerous attacks from seemingly all directions. The not-so-armored convoy had been too easy of a target to pursue; the city would never have transported that amount of money without some kind of substantial guard. Of course, neither mouse had even considered this as they followed the car- until they rounded the corner and found not their targeted truck, but the Loonatics standing ready. Hence the current face-off in the empty public area, closed off because of the construction going on judging by the half-built lampposts and fountain.

Not that meeting on their terms seemed to help the local superheroes; most of them couldn't keep up with Jet on foot or without the aid of their jetpacks, and those that could were quickly deterred by Slo-Mo's laser pistol. He'd already shot one bunny out of the sky, giving the others a good excuse to stay grounded, and the teleporting Duck and tornado-powered Tasmanian devil had experienced enough near-misses to give them a wide berth. However, he had only seen five of the Loonatics so far. In all of the mayhem, it was entirely possible that he'd missed one, but it wasn't sitting right with the slow mouse.

As though given a cue, two hands rose out of the ground like something out of a zombie movie, too close for Jet to dodge. They grabbed onto his cousin's ankles, bringing him to an abrupt stop before roughly flinging him back the way he'd come. Slo-Mo, on the other hand, didn't stop with his relative, instead flying off his shoulders and sailing through the air due to his inertia.

"Once again," he murmured to himself, "I forgot she could do that."

Slo-Mo roughly landed on his rump, skidding forward a good distance before slowing to a stop. Ignoring the sting as he torpidly got to his feet, the slightly taller of the two mice turned to look for his cousin, only to find a wall of Loonatics separating him from Jet.

The Bunnies, Tech, and Slam- after reaching down and pulling Sive through the top of the storm sewer she'd been hiding in- faced Slo-Mo. Duck and Sive had turned to Jet. This obvious unbalance had been intentional; the only issue with Jet was his speed making it difficult to land a hit. Slo-Mo's suggestion, along with his weapon, would both have to be avoided, making him the harder target despite the fact that his relative lack of motion theoretically should have been easy to land a hit on him. However, the priority in that battle was to keep the two mice apart; seeing as Slo-Mo was more or less stationary, that made Jet the problem. His impulsiveness made their job easy; Duck and Sive, as two of the more annoying members of their team, would most likely be able to keep the speedy mouse's attention on them instead of his cousin.

Silence descended as both parties processed what had happened, one relishing that one of their endeavors had finally succeeded and the other figuring out how to repair the botched situation. Jet, not being one for much thought, acted first, utilizing his speed to dart to the side in a bid to get around the Loonatic wall. Ace mirrored the mouse's move, but had to backpedal when Slo-Mo began to fire at him and the others, looking about as interested in the situation as a toddler watching the State of the Union.

The rest of the Loonatics scattered to avoid the lasers, now really starting the fight. Now that Slo-Mo wasn't moving at Jet's pace (or at all, for that matter,) Tech could lock onto him, trying to use his magnetism to yank his gun away. However, judging by the lack of green around Slo-Mo (save for his sash,) his weapon was not made of anything magnetic.

"Can't disarm him: Watch it!" Tech warned his teammates as they swarmed their target.

Elsewhere, Sive and Duck were doing their own parts. Duck had quacked out of the way of Slo-Mo's wild firing, only to reappear directly into his own target's path. Throwing an egg right at him, Jet had no choice but to dodge, then once more as Sive fired a short blast of electricity from the side. He wound up traveling further away from his cousin instead of towards him.

"Oi-animales-locos (1)! I'm-trying-to-run-here!" he shouted angrily, once again trying to circumvent his company.

Once again, Duck threw an egg at him, this time an explosive one, sending the light mouse flying back. "Yeah, well, we're trying to stop you, so everyone can't be happy."

Jet smirked. "Yes-but-you-are-forgetting-that-I-am-smarter-than-you-are-tonto (2)." He took off running again, but this time, when Duck threw an egg, the fast mouse sped up to full speed, ducking under the projectile and aiming to drop kick the offending mallard. With an undignified squawk of surprise, Duck quacked away, leaving the path clear for the rocketing Jet.

Well, almost clear, as Sive proved moments later when she once more roughly threw the mouse off his desired course with another flash of lightning.

"Chingada (3)!" Jet shouted as he skidded away, trying and failing to land on his feet.

"Hey genio (4), you forgot you're outnumbered," Sive deadpanned from her position that had been out of Jet's line of sight.

"Mierda (5)!" he exclaimed, looking between the two Loonatics.

"Watch your mouth," Sive said admonishingly. "Just because it's in another language doesn't mean nobody knows what it means."

Jet halfheartedly rolled his eyes, focusing more on finding a way to his cousin. He was fast enough that he could technically leave and get away at any time; however, if he left his cousin behind, his aunt would never let him hear the end of it- that woman could nag. "Si-because-all-you-gringos-are-fluent-in-Spanish."

"Callate!," Sive snapped. "No sabes todo! (6)"

Jet, needless to say, was thoroughly surprised by Sive's sudden Spanish outburst, leading to him being too distracted to react to Duck's sudden offensive move, finding himself blinded by tar moments later.

The group focusing on Slo-Mo wasn't having nearly as much success as the Jet tag-team. Despite the fact that they had a stationary target, and had even landed a couple of direct hits, nothing seemed to phase the apathetic mouse. Most attempts were either deflected with his pistol or dodged with one wide, slow sidestep. The few hits that made their mark failed to make much of a mark at all; Slo-Mo was shockingly sturdy.

On top of all that, they were stuck dancing around each other; four-on-one had its disadvantages. Dodging often led to collisions, and they had to coordinate all of their offensive moves around each other. However, with Slo-Mo's own offensive shots, they weren't going to sacrifice the extra manpower.

Slo-Mo, however, was getting impatient. He didn't like being boxed in, and he wanted to get out of there. Taking note of his cousin's lack of success, though, he realized that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Jet was letting the Loonatics get to him, becoming increasingly reckless as a result. If he didn't step in soon, they'd succeed in capturing Jet, leaving Slo-Mo with no escape route.

"Como de costumbre (7), I have to do things myself," he lamented.

He eyed the Loonatics around him, studying their movements, waiting until the right moment. Then, all at once, he twisted, firing a green blast at the tornado-packing Slam, who had spun around in an attempt to rush the thief. His almost-forgotten power immediately took effect, causing the Tasmanian devil to slow down to the point where he was clearly visible as he spun, moving at a rate of only a few inches per minute. Raising his gun, Slo-Mo took aim at the vulnerable Loonatic.

The rest of the team would have none of that. Having no time to communicate, both Lexi and Ace darted in front of Slam, firing a brain blast and laser beam, respectively, to combat the oncoming projectile. Ace had fired slightly earlier than Lexi, causing his shot to explode upon impacting Slo-Mo's. Lexi's, however, cleared through the smoke, careening towards the static mouse.

The green glow around Slam dissipated, rematerializing around Lexi's brain blast, allowing Slo-Mo to calmly take a step to the side to avoid it as it landed, leaving his previous position slowly smoldering. However, now that Slam was free, he almost instantaneously returned to his previous tornado speed with Ace and Lexi still in his path. He tried to stop, but they were only a few feet in front of him; all three fell like bowling pins.

Knowing that hit wouldn't keep them occupied for long, Slo-Mo turned to see if he could offer any aid to his cousin, only to be met with Tech blocking his path.

"Not likely," the coyote stated, knowing what his adversary was thinking. Extending one arm, Tech locked on to a nearby trash can with his magnetism, wrenching it from the ground and launching it at the mouse with enough force to definitely end that part of the fight.

Slo-Mo assessed the situation, knowing that he would be of no assistance to his cousin like this; he couldn't get past the regenerative coyote easily, and he could see the rest of them sluggishly getting to their feet out of the corner of his eye. However, he speculated, he didn't necessarily have to be the one to help his cousin.

In what might have been his fastest motion ever, Slo-Mo turned up the power on his pistol before firing it at the incoming projectile. It had been just enough to make it explode into small enough parts that the sturdy villain was unaffected. With all the smoke, though, Tech couldn't tell if his attack had made its mark, so he was still standing at the ready as the large smoke cloud enveloped him, making it difficult to see. Then, there was a flash of yellow, but by the time he realized what was going on, he'd blacked out.

"Mi primo estupido (8) looks like he needs a hand, no?"

xoxoxoxox

Sive, having a free moment as Duck pummeled the general area Jet was zipping about in with numerous eggs, just barely turned as she heard Ace's cry of, "Incoming!" She'd been expecting it to be towards one of the others fighting Slo-Mo; she'd noticed them struggling earlier, and was a little worried for them, but was too occupied to do anything herself. However, that slight turn allowed her to see the long piece of iron rebar heading right for them.

"Duck!" she shouted, instinctively hitting the deck so as to allow the bar to pass over her.

"What?!" an irate Duck replied, turning and just barely processing Sive's crouching figure before being swept off his feet and sent tumbling.

"I tried to warn him," Sive lamented before getting back to her feet, looking to see where the mysterious flying object had come from; not many could throw something like that. The rest of the team seemed to be still occupied with Slo-Mo, so it couldn't have been a horrifically bad toss from Slam; Tech, however, was taking purposeful strides towards her. She didn't have a chance to see what he was doing, though; Jet noticed his tormentors' predicament, and immediately took advantage of it. Zipping off in a wide arc behind Sive in an attempt not to be seen, the coyote would've missed him if he wasn't still cursing profusely in Spanish. Turning back to the mouse, Sive sent a long arc of electricity towards another metal trash can in his path, knowing it would attract more to the metal than to the mouse. It exploded in a shower of sparks right as Jet reached it, sending him well off his path once again.

A loud scraping of metal-on-metal alerted Sive to another issue. She instinctively phased to avoid any more oncoming atrocities, and was glad of it when she turned to find what looked to be the cover of a storm drain passing through her like a tossed Frisbee with enough force to most likely have cut her in half. The green glow around the object, though, was unmistakable.

"Oi, Tech! Friendly fire, much?!" she shouted to the still approaching coyote, who didn't react to her irate outburst. The reason why became apparent as he got closer, the yellow tint in his eyes clear as day.

"Oh, shit," she cursed as he got closer, locking onto something else- another stray piece of rebar that had broken off from something he'd thrown earlier- with his magnetism, angling it threateningly.

Duck chose that moment to make a reappearance next to Sive, finally recovering from the hit enough to remember that while it seemed he couldn't squirm out from under the heavy piece of metal, quacking out from under it was a viable option. "Who put the Cranky-O's in his cereal?" the mallard groused, making a show of removing an imaginary chink in his back.

"Slo-Mo," Sive replied by way of explanation, gaze quickly shifting between the approaching coyote in front and the recovering mouse in back. "Duck, you keep Jet occupied; I'll keep Tech from bugging the rest of us, try to snap him out of it."

Duck, feeling as though he'd gotten the better end of that deal, didn't argue as he quacked off after Jet. Tech's assigned 'job' was to keep anyone away from the speedy mouse; he turned to follow the mallard.

"Oh, no you don't," Sive said, seeing where Tech's attention was. She charged a very small enough amount of electricity into a ball, less than a shock from a Taser would give, and threw it at the coyote. The resulting thunder would have gotten anyone's attention, and the hypnotized coyote was no exception. Using his magnetism, he quickly brought up a sewer cover to block the trivial blow; the electricity attracted to the metal, hitting it with a small explosion before settling when Tech unceremoniously dropped his makeshift shield. Despite not being in control of his own mind, he still analyzed the situation as though he were fully in control of his faculties; he recognized that in order to do his job, this threat would have to be eliminated first.

xoxoxoxox

Most people would agree that the weekends were the best time of the week, seeing as it's usually a day off of work or school, and any work that needed to be done would be pushed until the next day by some unspoken, universal rule. Rev, as of late, was not one of these people, finding himself bored to death more often than not. Having nothing better to do, he'd already completed all of his work for the week and the two weeks yet to come. After one too many errands run without the use of the car, his parents had essentially put him in house arrest; however, he'd usually storm off somewhere once or twice a week now, so it wasn't that effective. He was just about at the end of his rope.

At the time he was lazing about on the couch with Rip, disinterestedly watching as his brother channel surfed. He wasn't sure where his parents were; Ma was probably in the kitchen, getting ready for dinner, and Pa was more than likely finishing on some last-minute paperwork in his office. Not that Rev could find it in himself to care much; he'd been feeling so lethargic lately, so apathetic, it was starting to worry him. He had been thinking over his last conversation with Rip almost nonstop, and was beginning to find more and more sense in his brother's words. He figured all he needed was one more, good push before he'd be out of there; whether it would come from Rip or from some other new, ridiculous rule from his parents, he wasn't sure. He'd tried calling Tech for some advice earlier, despite the coyote's words that he was biased; a biased point of view that he knew would be able to talk him into leaving was something he felt he really needed. When Tech didn't answer, the rest of the team's answering machines had followed in his search for guidance. They were probably out dealing with those thieves, the roadrunner had reasoned. They had been for a while, actually. Rev was starting to worry for them; no one had been this troublesome for a while. On top of that, he'd witnessed some pretty brutal defeats on the news.

The saying 'Speak of the devil and he shall appear' rang in Rev's mind as Rip stopped changing channels when a special news bulletin came up, telling rush hour travelers to avoid a couple roads in Acmetropolis due to a possible threat in the area that the Loonatics were dealing with. The news anchor disappeared, replaced with a view (from a considerable distance) of his team- ex-team, a well-hidden bitter part reminded himself- fighting with the two thieving mice. It didn't take long to conclude that they were losing badly. Despite the fact that he wasn't moving, the majority of the team was having difficulty hitting and dodging Slo-Mo; Duck was struggling to keep track of Jet; and...was Tech attacking Sive?!

"What-is-going-on-over-there-they're-getting-creamed!" Rev exclaimed at the screen, as though his team had just lost the point at a sporting event.

"That doesn't look good," Rip concluded, wincing sympathetically as a well-aimed shot almost took off Ace's ears.

For a moment, Rev simply couldn't take his eyes off the screen, hypnotized by the rapidly unfolding horror. His attention was finally diverted when his brother noisily cleared his throat, turning to Rip only to be met with an expectant, challenging look. Here's a problem you can fix; what are you going to do about it? he asked without saying anything.

Naturally, Pa decided to walk out of his office right then, and, catching eye of what was happening on the screen, walked over, reaching to take the remote from Rip. "Boys-why-are-you-watching-this-it's-way-too-violent-change-it-to-something-else-how-about-a-crime-drama-or-something?"

Rip, noticing the incoming hand, pushed himself to roll over the arm of the couch, landing on his feet and being sure to keep the corner of the couch and the little end table between himself and his father, holding the remote as far away from Ralf as possible for good measure. "Dude, you just contradicted yourself! And he's worried about his friends!"

Ralph shook his head, only focusing on Rip because he was preventing him from doing anything to the TV. "He-shouldn't-be-that-worried-it's-not-like-it'll-make-any-difference-to-him-what-happens-to-them."

"Bullshit!" Rip shouted, wishing he could get in his father's face and defend the remote at the same time. "Of course it matters; those are his friends out there, and they're in trouble!"

Rev, for all intents and purposes, looked as though he wasn't even paying attention to the essential war between his brother and his father raging only a few feet away from him; his attention wasn't even on the TV anymore. He was just staring at the wall, knowing that this was the time to make a decision. He'd seen the fight; there was no way his friends would win at that rate. He could leave right then, travel at full speed, get there in time to help. But then he'd be abandoning his family- well, his parents, anyway. However, if he stayed, he'd be flaking on his friends; though they may never know about it, he'd never be able to face them again knowing he'd left them behind when they needed him. Everything that had happened the past few weeks came rushing back all at once, and he found himself unable to respond to anything else.

They don't give a damn about what makes you happy, Rev.

"They're-not-his-friends-anymore-that-was-the-past-and-now-it's-none-of-his-business."

You'll be stuck behind that desk for the rest of your life, and both you and I know that isn't what you want.

"Like hell they aren't! He's been on a team with them for how many years now?! That doesn't just disappear overnight!"

You need to go your own way, Rev, before they suffocate you.

"It-can-and-it-did-end-of-discussion!"

Rev, family doesn't always have to come first, especially when your family is the one causing the problem.

"Just because you say it's so, oh great and powerful god of the household, doesn't mean it's true! You can't just take away a part of someone's life like that!"

You can't turn your back on those who care about you.

"Yes-I-can-because-I-know-what's-best-for-him!"

"No-you-don't!" Rev all but screamed, suddenly springing up from the couch and digging his hands into his crest as he tried to clear his head before something else came up to make him change his mind again.

Both Rip and Ralph jumped at the sudden outburst, looking at Rev in astonishment. They couldn't remember the last time the normally happy-go-lucky roadrunner had yelled at anyone, let alone of them like that. Ralph's jaw was rolling around on the floor by then, and Rip would have been jumping for joy if he wasn't so shocked at his brother's sudden explosion.

Rev, meanwhile, wasn't giving anyone a chance to finish processing what was happening; like a true Runner, he was rocketing through his speech, much faster than normal as everything he'd been holding in for weeks burst outward like a crack in a dam that had reached its final breaking point.

"Yes-you're-my-family-and-yes-you're-important-to-me-and-I-will-always-take-into-account-what-you-want-for-me-but-frankly-you're-being-ridiculous-you're-trying-to-get-me-to-repress-my-powers-which-are-now-part-of-who-I-am-and-now-you're-telling-me-to-essentially-stand-back-and-watch-as-the-people-who-are-like-a-second-family-to-me-get-seriously-hurt-or-worse-all-so-I-can-exist-as-some-sort-of-desk-jockey-for-your-company-while-essentially-not-existing!" he shouted, all he could manage in one breath. His face was as red as his feathers at that point; he had to take a couple of quick, gasping breaths before he could continue.

Ralph took this opportunity to speak, though he looked appropriately chastised and…afraid of his son. "But…but-we're-family-Rev-and-we-just-want-to-see-you-happy."

"Do-you?!" Rev asked accusingly. "Then-why-does-it-seem-like-you're-just-trying-to-smother-me-to-death-and-why-does-this-sense-of-family -only-apply-to-me-you've-been-acting-like-Rip-doesn't-exist-again-and-you've-been-too-focused-on-keeping-me-on-a-leash-to-realize-and-if-all-this-has-made-me-realize-anything-at-all-it-means-that-family-isn't-law-and-that-I-really-should-listen-to-Tech-more-because-he-was-right-when-he-told-me-that-the-ones-who-should-take-priority-are-the-ones-who-really-care-and-lately-that-hasn't-been-you!"

With that closing remark, Rev shot out of the house, not even bothering to pause to open the door and instead jumping through an open window, exiting fast enough to slightly singe the carpet and displace anything not bolted down with wind turbulence. Rip sort of wished he'd stuck around long enough so that he could give him a standing ovation. And yet, he could understand why he'd left in such a hurry; according to the TV, the rest of the Loonatics were still receiving a good beating, and on top of that, the shit was going to hit the fan once Pa snapped out of his shock long enough to process that the Prodigal Son had just left the building.

Turning to relish the look on Ralph's face, though, Rip was surprised to see a completely blank look for a moment. Because he was looking right at him, Rip noticed the change; his mysteriously yellowed eyes shifted back to their natural white color. The look of surprise returned, then underwent a quick series of succession to shock, realization, and increasing horror.

"…Pa?" Rip asked heasitantly, wondering just what was going through the older Runner's head. It wasn't like he'd been unconscious for this whole episode and was only just realizing what he'd put his sons through…right?

Ralph jumped slightly, snapped out of his reverie by his son's voice. "Rip!" he exclaimed as though he hadn't seen him in weeks, quickly zipping around the couch with his normal speed and hugging his younger son as tightly as he could. Rip could only give a look of utter confusion and mild disturbance to the back of his head. "I'm-so-sorry-and-I-have-so-much-to-fill-you-in-on-but-right-now-we-have-to-go-after-your-brother-where's-Ma?"

Rip immediately frowned as he was released. "What do you mean 'go after him'? I'm not letting you try to stop him again!"

"No-no-no-no-no-I-wouldn't-dream-of-it-but-there's-so-much-to-explain…" Ralph trailed off as Harriet walked into the room, noting her still-transfixed eye color.

"What-is-with-all-the-yelling-and-where's-Rev?" she asked, looking only mildly perturbed.

"Rip-can-you-pull-the-car-around-I-owe-you-one-heck-of-an-explanation-and-you'll-get-it-on-the-way," Ralph said, handing the still lost-looking Rip the keys and ushering him towards the door to the garage before turning back to his not quite in her right mind wife. "Harriet-honey-we're-going-on-a-little-trip-to-Acmetropolis-okay-hopefully-they'll-know-how-to-fix-you-too."

"Fix-what?" Harriet asked dumbly as her husband gently herded her towards the car.

A/N: And the situation begins to resolve itself. Let's face it; Rev? Blowing up at someone? That would be kinda shocking. He's just too…nice for that.

Anyway, the next chapter might be late; here's why. A) my teachers have finally succeeded in killing me and I'm not sure when the murder-fest will end. B) the next chapter will either be longer, but finish the story, or will still be fairly long and the final ends will be tied up in a final chapter. But I'm really leaning toward the first option, just because what would be a final-final chapter would be fairly unsubstantial on its own. (Good thing I'm not superstitious, 'cause I'm ending at 13 chapters! XD *bricked*)

Reviews convince me to come out of my grave long enough to post chapters! *shot**buried*

Ugh, see, I'm so dead I forgot to include the translations! (Thanks to iwolf208 for pointing that out!) I numbered them and everything this time! Ah, well, better late than never, right?

And sorry for the roughness of some of these. I actually take Latin, and the friend I usually annoy until she does these for me was on vacation, so I had to rely on Google Translate. *shudder*

More thanks to iwolf208 for inadvertantly becoming my replacement translator!

(1) Hey, crazy animals

(2) idiot

(3) A Spanish curse word. No need to give an exact translation of this one.

(4) genius

(5) See number three.

(6) "Shut up!" Sive snapped. "You don't know everything!"

(7) As usual

(8) My stupid cousin