Finally, another chapter. I'm writing more this weekend. I'm hoping to finish at least one more story by the end of January, if not December.

Anyways, enjoy! Reviews are appreciated.

Chapter Fourteen

Dark Adaptation

Her hearing came back first. Just in time to hear the gunfire.

Falcon ducked and tried to get back into the air and out of the crossfire, but was dismayed to find that her wings wouldn't respond. She shook her arms in desperation but it was no good. The metallic feathers no longer gleamed iridescent or reflected the lights around her. The lightning had effectively knocked them out of commission.

Fantastic. Blind and grounded. What the hell was she going to do now?

She heard another boom in the distance. Well, the man with the Terminator arm was still on the loose, so she had something to distract herself with. Falcon got up and splayed her fingers - then curled them into fists as she concentrated. As much as her radar was a nuisance, Falcon knew she needed it to stop the out of control cyborg.

She could hear the cops and SWAT team yelling. Probably at her but she couldn't tell. Pushing the distracting noises out of her head, Falcon took a deep breath and tensed her muscles.

Whoomph!

A small burst of energy exploded around her body, fanning out in all directions. Falcon could feel the dust in the air, now climbing up her nose and making her sneeze. But on the bright side her radar was back, and bringing the regular headache with it.

Wings still useless, Falcon stumbled off the pile of rubble and skidded onto the street. She let her radar see for her, following the vibrations of thunder and heading in that direction. The cyborg was heading back downtown, towards the way she came. Falcon wished she knew what the cause of this mess was - it would make it that much easier to stop the problem, but finding out would have to wait till later.

Bullets whizzed by her head. Falcon gasped, ducking just in time. They were shooting at her! Why were they shooting at her? She was just trying to help!

Traffic was her savior today. The cops and soldiers would have to follow on foot, and they were sure as hell slower in their armor than Falcon was in her suit. Still, those guns would be a problem if they had just the right shot. Falcon overturned several empty cars with her mind, creating a formidable wall that prevented the bullets from reaching her. As soon as she was sure they wouldn't get through anytime soon, Falcon took off running once more.

The world was now a grayish-blackish haze. Falcon could barely see the outlines of people and buildings, but her radar still had the forefront for system navigation. Still, she could see brief flashes of light. The cyborg was just ahead.

He saw Falcon before she saw him. "No, stop! Don't come near me! I don't want to hurt anyone!"

Falcon decided to listen to him this time and came to a halt, ducking behind a car as another bolt of lightning infiltrated her radar's range. Her skin tingled with the residue of left over electricity and Falcon hesitated to get back up again. She doubted getting struck by lightning twice in ten minutes is very good for one's body, even a superhuman's.

"I'm trying to help you!" Falcon called over her hiding spot. Man, if only she could see! Then she'd be able to tell in fine detail what was wrong with that man's robot arm. "Please, just tell me what's wrong!"

There was a scary moment that was only filled with silence, and Falcon thought that maybe the man just keeled over and died, but a second later he shouted back, "I don't know how it happened! I knocked it against something and suddenly it just started going crazy! Do you know how to get it off?"

"Where did you get it?" Falcon asked. Even if he knew, she doubted it would help. Amputees and crazy robot arms weren't her specialty, but she at least had to try.

This time the man couldn't answer her because he was screaming in pain. Falcon flinched covering her ears and cowering behind the car as electricity exploded across the ground, tearing up everything it touched as it went. A fragment of hot metal dinged off her helmet and Falcon flattened herself against the ground.

After the surge was over, Falcon shot to her feet and made a beeline for the now unconscious cyborg. She realized that she couldn't wait around anymore. The arm had to come off, one way or another.

She reached the body of the man, flat on his back with a bloody cut on his head. He was still breathing at least, but now the robotic arm was buzzing and vibrating and glowing with heat. It was so hot, in fact, that Falcon couldn't touch it without burning herself. Still, that wasn't going to stop her.

How did amputees get their prosthetic limbs attached? Surely this couldn't be any different than the usual means, right?

Falcon let her radar scan the mechanics. While her limited understanding of computers and rather physical nature of the radar kept her from reading the internal diagnostics of the robotic arm, Falcon could still recognize the wires implanted into the man's skin. This arm wasn't just screwed on - it was a part of him.

Holy crap, that's intense. Falcon almost couldn't believe it. Who was capable of that level of technology? She didn't think this kind of thing would show up until some years into the future. How was she going to get a synthetic arm that was attached to the man like it was grown inside of him?

Falcon shuddered at the idea of pulling it out. Ew, no. Too messy, and it could endanger the man's life. How was she...how did this thing come off?

"FALCON!" Garret's voice bellowed through a megaphone. "STAND DOWN!"

"Well, I'm kneeling!" she snapped back. Falcon really didn't think that the police force (and by extension any SWAT teams) she came across would actually try to stop her from helping them out; but now she had at least twenty very large firearms aimed at her.

Using situations like this as an opportunity to find out whether she really could deflect bullets with her mind or not didn't seem like a good idea. Falcon knew she maybe had ten seconds - maximum - to figure out how to get the arm off before she became the NYPD's first superhuman casualty. She turned back to the unconscious man and concentrated, searching for a weak spot in the robotic arm.

It wasn't easy. Whoever designed knew their stuff, using metals so strong that she was getting a migraine trying to bend them. She could lift up entire cars but not bend a couple synthetic tendons? This was ridiculous!

"I REPEAT!" Garret called again, his voice getting tense. "STAND DOWN!"

"Give me a moment!" Falcon shouted, although she doubted it would do her any good. They weren't there to listen; they were trying to subdue a problem, and the wrong one at that.

Come on, come on! Falcon risked burning herself by skimming her fingers along the sides of the arm, hoping to catch something her mind didn't. Her vision was a little better now - she could see words written on the side of the arm, a label of some sort. She was just about to lean in to read it when -

BLAM!

Falcon gasped a bullet tore through the fabric on her shoulder. It would've hit her heart had she not leaned down to read the inscription. She knew immediately it was only a flesh wound - thank god - but the pain was immense. Falcon could feel warm blood flowing down her arm.

Did they think they hit her? Falcon pressed herself into the tarmac, trying to regulate her breathing. The wound probably only needed a couple stitches, but her heart was pounding like she had just taken the assault to the gut. Her hands shook so hard she couldn't control them.

There was a loud commotion all around her. The SWAT team was moving in, arms at the ready. One of them was already taking out some handcuffs, as if preparing to subdue her. Wait, they thought she was surrendering?

Oops, didn't mean that to happen. Falcon winced but moved her arms so both hands were planted firmly on the tarmac. She heard one of the men shouting at her not to move, but Falcon already had two concentrated balls of air in her hand.

Controlling air wasn't any easier than controlling water or a really big pot of oatmeal. It refused to be contained and it was even harder to hold. Perhaps that's why she grabbed so much of it, letting it swirl around her body in a mini whirlwind. More shouting incurred, but the gusts were so strong the SWAT guys couldn't aim right.

Falcon was only able to maintain it for a couple seconds before it slipped out of control.

Whoosh!

The winds went out in all directions, spiraling out and knocking over anything standing on two feet. Cars skidded a few inches and trashcans and newspaper dispensers were knocked over. Suddenly, every man within a forty foot radius was on his back, either groaning or out cold.

Falcon grinned behind her helmet. About time.

She got up on her knees again and turned her attention back to the arm. Forgoing elegance or sophistication in removing the arm, Falcon instead decided trying gripping it with her mind. She twisted it at the elbow, snapping the joint and reliving that one seventh grade recess when Astor broke her arm.

The steel-strong metal bent to the will of a panicking superhero going into shock. Her left arm had gone numb and her fingers tingled uncomfortably. Still, the prosthetic proved no match and broke free with a fantastic SNAP!

Falcon had been putting so much effort into removing the arm that she fell backwards when it finally came free. It flew off, its light fading as it lost power, and smacked her in the chest so hard that it pushed Falcon backwards, just in time to avoid the incoming jab of a gun's muzzle.

She gasped, clutching the robot arm as Officer Garret stood above her, looking down the barrel of his assault rifle.

Falcon's last close encounter with a gun had not ended well, so she felt her current reaction was justified considering the situation. She didn't even hear Garret's orders to drop what she was holding and surrender - a single shove with her mind and the gun was knocked away from her head.

Caught off guard, Garret was about to realize just how out of his depth he was. Falcon football-tackled him around the knees, taking the huge man down in a single blow. He went down hard, his head cracking against the pavement.

But he was hardly deterred. Gun out of reach, he decided to draw a small cylindrical object, snapped something off the top, and launched it into the air.

Falcon just barely managed to figure out what it was when a fist collided with the side of her head. Thankfully, the helmet took most of the blow, but Falcon was momentarily incapacitated and incapable of stopping the tear gas from exploding.

She had no idea what Garret was thinking, him without a mask on and all. Oh, wait, no. He was putting one on now, as Falcon looked up to see the green gas billowing across the street. Falcon managed to summon a weak gust of air to push it away from her, but she could feel her strength fading. It took a lot out of her to create that whirlwind and tear off the robotic arm. She needed to get out of here.

Garret had already reached his gun and was turning back to aim it at her. But Falcon understood that this was not a battle she could afford to continue, and expanded her wings, hoping for the best.

They flickered to life, but she could see where the lightning had struck, creating a black dendritic pattern across the feathers where its iridescence couldn't shine. A large chunk of feathers were not even working at all, but Falcon didn't have time to wait for them to come back online. She needed to go now.

"Falcon, I'm going to say this one last time," Officer Garret warned, his gun ready. "Stand down or I will shoot."

"Hey," Falcon grinned weakly behind her helmet, slowly raising her hands in feigned surrender. "Let me make that decision for you."

And thrusting her arms back down, Falcon returned to the air.

Flying half-blind wasn't Falcon's idea of fun, but there was no way she could get away from these guys quickly enough without getting captured. She was too far out of range by the time Officer Garret could react, but she could hear the start of sirens again. How they could dream of following her in that traffic, she had no idea.

But Falcon couldn't stay up here for long, no matter how safe she felt. Robotic arm in one hand, she made her slow descent into an inconspicuous alleyway, out of the eye of any government official.

OoOoO

I scrambled out of the alleyway, out of breath and a little singed. There were ambulances in the street where me and Eddie were in last, but I didn't see any black body bags being zipped up, so I assumed he was okay.

There was a big scene carrying in the source of all the chaos, the man with only one half of a synthetic arm. I watched as the cyborg man was strapped into a gurney, still unconscious but now donning an oxygen mask. From what I learned from chatter, he was going to make a full recovery once the remainder of his prosthetic arm was removed. Thankfully, no one else had gotten seriously hurt.

There were paramedics, civilians, and a lot of news stations milling around. The media people were most annoying. One even asked me for my experience, but I waved them away. I couldn't tell them a convincing story to save my life, and I doubted telling them the truth would be a good idea.

Eddie found me first.

I had been wandering around a campsite of emergency vehicles when he came right out of nowhere, clothes in one of those white blankets ambulances always seemed to have, enveloping me in a giant hug.

"Jesus, Amy, you're okay!" He said into my shoulder, shuddering with relief. I thought he might have been crying or something, but that stupid idea was dashed when he drew back and demanded angrily, "Where the hell have you been?"

"Uh," Oh, crap, my cover story! I had been telling it over and over in my head, in preparation for this, but because of Eddie's surprise attack, I lost it. "I was, um, hiding. Behind some cars."

Eddie stared at me. He had hands on either side of my shoulder. I winced at his grip, but I was afraid of showing my pain in case he got curious and saw the bullet wound beneath my sleeve. Yes, I had wrapped it up with some gauze from the first aid kit I now had to carry everywhere (it was incredibly how badly hurt I could get just fighting a couple thugs on the way to school), and it was hidden under my shirt and jacket. But I could still feel the blood seeping through. Underneath my layers, I could feel it trickle down my arm.

"You," he said after a long moment. "Are officially insane."

I smiled at him, too weak to come up with a defense. It wasn't like he was wrong, after all. With his attention on my face, I took the chance to draw my left hand up my sleeve, to cover the trail of blood now curling down my fingers. "Um, well, yeah."

"You're hurt," Eddie raised his hand, taking it off my left arm to touch a tender bruise on the side of my head, where Officer Garret took a swing at me. I winced at the contact, and he drew away immediately. "How did you get that?"

"When we fell," I said. This lie came a lot more easily, and I was surprised with myself. Surprised and a little bit impressed. Maybe I'll actually get good at this with some practice. "I hit my head on the ground. I think I got knocked out for a second or two, but I found cover behind some cars. I didn't come out until a police man came over, telling me it was safe. I wish I found you sooner. I didn't want you to worry."

Woo, that's good.

"Ha, yeah, that ship has sailed," Eddie shook his head, his look of concern now replaced by a grin of relief. "Trouble just comes looking for you, doesn't it?"

"Sure seems that way," I laughed nervously. Why was I so uncomfortable? A part of me was ecstatic to have Eddie's arm wrapped around my shoulder. It was like every dream come true. In that moment, I desperately needed an excuse to make it last longer. "I think I've had enough, erm, trouble for a while. I think we should get some burgers."

"That is an excellent idea," Eddie agreed. "Come on, my motorcycle is this way."

OoOoO

The rest of the night was spent peacefully. I went to bed that night a little late but safe nonetheless, with Aunt May and Peter none the wiser of my activity earlier that night. Still, my mind was at unrest and I couldn't sleep.

No matter how hard I tried, I could not forget what I discovered why changing identities in that alleyway. As I had stuffed the robotic arm into my backpack, I was disturbed when finally reading the inscription on the side:

SYNDICON