Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High.

Read on, oh faithful ones...

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Chapter Forty Five

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Layla tried not to let her lip curl too much when she walked into school to find it decorated in every shade of pink and red known to man.

"What the fuck?" Warren muttered beside her, actually turning to see if they'd entered the right building, even though it was the only building on the floating plot of land.

"It's gross, isn't it?" Magenta muttered, wincing as she passed by.

Layla kissed Warren's cheek and hurried after Magenta. "How are you, Magenta?"

Magenta looked surprised that Layla had followed after her, but smiled and shrugged. "Not bad. I've got an assignment for English I'm worrying about, but it's nothing major. What about you?"

"Oh, the same. Mad Science test today. I'm curious as to whether Mr. Medulla will have his class decorated the same as the hallways," she added in a conspiratorial whisper, making Magenta laugh in response.

Her laugh died down suddenly and Layla knew that Will had arrived; he was probably standing there staring at them with his jaw hanging open. Layla had seen the expression enough over the course of their friendship that she didn't even need to turn around to look. Instead, she smiled at Magenta and shouldered her bag more firmly.

"Good luck with your English assignment, Magenta. Oh, and have a great night tonight," she said, smiling and leaving without looking back to Will.

"Maj, why were you talking with her?" Will hissed as Layla left.

"She was just saying hello, Will," Magenta replied, rolling her eyes. "Which you haven't said yet," she added pointedly.

"Oh. Right. Hello. Happy Valentine's Day," Will said, pressing a kiss to her cheek and making Magenta smile and blush lightly.

Layla organised her things for her first classes, glancing down at her phone. Warren had sent her a text.

Happy Valentine's and whatever. I think my first present should be burning this pink crap to ash.

You too. What do you mean first present? How many presents are you giving me? I've only got one for you.

Oh, that was a present for me, not you. And half of the student population, probably.

You're giving half the students a Valentine's Day present? Should I be worried?

Yes. I'm leaving you for them.

Who? I need names so I know who to hurt.

"Ah, good morning, Miss Williams! What do you think of the decorations?" Mr. Boy asked behind her.

Layla put her phone down and turned to Mr. Boy with a smile. "They're very festive."

"Oh, good. I was hoping someone would think so! It's not often we teachers get to decorate more than our classrooms," Mr. Boy lamented with a heavy sigh.

"This was your handiwork?" Layla asked. "I mean... It must have taken you a long time to get this all up by yourself!"

"Oh, it was nothing All-American Boy couldn't handle!" he said, hands on his hips.

The school bell sounded and Mr. Boy paled, realising that he was meant to be in home group with his students already. He ran off, throwing a farewell over his shoulder, and jumped over a group of students to get to his classroom that much faster. Layla bit back her laugh when Mr. Boy almost got entangled in the decorations, then she grabbed her phone and the last of her things to head for her own homeroom.

She subtly checked her phone while attendance was being marked off, and grinned at Warren's response.

Why bother with names? Just go with all of them instead.

Apart from any permanent markers, that was the plan, really, Layla thought to herself, raising her hand when her name was called.

...

"I thought you were against Valentine's Day?" Ethan asked, nodding to the gift sitting in front of Layla. He took his glasses off to clean them properly, frowning at one stubborn mark.

"I am, but that doesn't mean I'm going to turn down a present. Or not give one in return. It's something Warren actually needs, rather than some ridiculous gift that doesn't have any use," Layla said, setting the gift in front of Warren once he sat down beside her.

Warren pulled out a small present from the inner pocket of his jacket and set it in front of her. He didn't say anything or wait for a response, simply started eating his food.

Layla was surprised to see it was a long jewellery box, similar to ones that held trinkets and bracelets. She was wearing her usual bangles already, but wondered if Warren might've bought her a cuff like the one around his wrist.

"Mr. Medulla created a chemical thing that destroyed all of the crepe paper that had been put in the Mad Science room. It covered the whole class in confetti and Larry had a coughing fit," Craig said as he and Adam sat down.

"I know what happened, man, I was there."

"Ooh, you got presents for each other? What'd you get?" Craig asked, squeezing in between Layla and Zach.

"You'll see once we've opened them," Layla replied, calmly taking a bite of her salad.

"Ethan got me this puzzle about knots," Zach said, pulling out the box that came with a book of instructions and several small ropes to try the knots out.

"Heh, kinky," Craig said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"That's what I said," Zach said, grinning and holding his hand out for a high-five.

Craig snorted and slapped his hand. "What did Zach get for you?" he asked, nodding to Ethan.

"A set of colour-coded notebooks, gel pens, and tabbed dividers," Ethan said, looking so happy about his gift that Craig's cruel retort died on his lips.

"Great gifts, guys! Now, hurry up, you two," Craig said, nudging Layla.

Warren wished he hadn't eaten all of his food so quickly. "What if it's private?"

"Then you shouldn't be exchanging gifts in the cafeteria," Craig replied, snorting.

"Craig has a point," Ethan said.

"C'mon, hippie. Open your damn present so they stop pestering us," Warren muttered.

In truth, he was a little anxious to see what her response would be to his gift. It had taken a long time to find, between his shifts at work, their own training and plans, and the stores' opening hours. He just hoped she liked it.

Donny laughed around a mouthful of juice and Warren glared at him, hoping he choked on it.

"All right, fine. We open the presents and you leave us alone, got it?" Layla said, glaring at each of their friends in turn.

Wendy looked offended. "I haven't said a thing!"

"That's because you've been too busy admiring your bracelet to notice what's going on around you," Adam pointed out, grinning.

"It's fulgurite," Wendy replied, shrugging.

"What's that when it's home?" Craig asked.

"Glass made from lightning and sand," Wendy replied, stroking the bracelet with her thumb.

"Oh. Good gift idea," Craig said, nodding at Donny, who grinned. "Now, you two..." he said, turning to Layla and Warren, who were kissing. He pulled a face, his nose wrinkled. "Geez, what the hell did you give each other to get PDA in the cafeteria?"

"Warren got a pair of gloves. Layla got jewellery, I think," Ethan said, peering over the table to the opened box.

"Really? That for jewellery?"

Layla finally let Warren go, smiling at him brightly. Warren looked a little dazed, but his hands were hot against her hips and he grinned back at her, slow and warm.

Next to Layla, Craig stared when he saw vines flowering in her hair. He looked from Ethan to Zach and back to the flowers, a little relieved that they seemed to be as surprised as he felt.

"I can't believe you found this. Where? When?" she asked, looking back to the box with her mother's jewellery inside. It wasn't all of it, but it was enough: the pearl necklace and her gold earrings and her silver bracelet.

"Went to a few pawn stores during my free time," Warren replied, shrugging. "I couldn't find everything you'd described, but I think it might've been sold already."

"What're you both going on about? What's so great about some old jewellery?" Craig asked, chewing on a mouthful of tater tots.

"It was my mother's jewellery. My Great Aunt stole it and sold it off when I was at school," Layla replied, slipping the bracelet on with the other bangles and bracelets around her wrist.

She closed the box and tucked it onto her lap, not wanting to leave it out in the open. Layla smiled as Warren replaced his fingerless gloves with the new gloves she'd bought for him.

"Hobo gloves, nice work," Craig said, giving Warren a thumbs up.

Layla elbowed Craig sharply in the ribs. "They're actually specially-designed gloves. They should withstand your flames without cracking like your leather ones did," she added.

"What're they made out of?" Zach asked curiously.

"Rhovyl fibres. It's flame retardant and similar to Kevlar, according to what I read online."

Warren built up his power slowly, a red-orange flame turning to a fierce yellow, then to a blinding white before it burnt down to a bright blue flame, barely visible. Beneath the flames, the gloves didn't melt or crack. Layla moved back a bit at the intense heat she could feel from the flames, even though she knew Warren would never hurt her. Across the table, Zach's eyes widened and Ethan stared.

"Holy shit. How did you get those into Maxville?" Zach asked, voice low.

"Honey very kindly allowed me to use one of her businesses to purchase them; I got the idea from Ethan about the suit materials," Layla said, smiling at them. She turned to Warren, who was alternating between hot and burning hot flames on his palms. "A few reviews have stated that the fingertips wear down, so let me know if that happens and I'll get a replacement pair for free. Honey's mentioned something about sewing extra fibres onto the fingertips, which might help if these do get worn out."

Warren moved the flames up to his fingertips, blue, yellow, and red flames flickering. "I'll let you know. Thanks, hippie," he said, the flames dying a moment before he pulled her close to kiss her.

"All right, that's enough PDA from both of you. You're making me lose my appetite," Craig said, even as he stole Adam's pudding.

"You'd better put that back if you don't want acid holes on your face," Adam said calmly, not looking up from his textbook.

Craig winced and carefully placed the pudding back, looking to the others to see if they had any leftovers. Donny threw his pudding towards Craig, who caught it just before it smacked into his face. "Thanks!"

"What did Wendy get you, Donny?" Zach asked.

"A bonsai tree," Donny replied.

"Huh?"

"Layla made it for me; it's to help with his concentration," Wendy replied.

"How?" Craig asked.

"It's like the trees at The Hive; they're more sentient than most plants, and I can focus my thoughts on its thoughts."

"The trees have thoughts?" Zach asked, shuddering.

"Nothing like our thoughts, but essentially, yes. They think about food and water and sunlight. Layla's trees have a focus on all of that as well as any people around them. It's hard to explain, but they can kind of feel a person's intentions from the air around them," Donny said, frowning as he tried to think of a better explanation.

The bell rang loudly and Craig finished eating the last of his pudding. "Why're you studying so hard, Adam?"

"We've got a Mad Science test on Monday and I won't have time to study on the weekend," Adam replied.

"Oh yeah, you're doing that computer thing with what's their name, right?"

Adam went tight-lipped but nodded in response.

"So are you still coming to the ASL class tomorrow then?" Layla asked as they all left the cafeteria.

"Yes, I've got time for that," Adam said. "I'm going to Warren's tonight to make sure of it."

"Good to know. See you later. Thanks for the gifts," Layla said to Warren, kissing his cheek before heading to her locker to get her things for the afternoon and Save the Citizen, and to hide her mother's jewellery in her bag.

...

"Hey, have a good night at work, Layla," Adam said, grinning as she stood to get off the bus, leaving Warren and Adam to continue to the Peace residence before Warren's shift at the Paper Lantern.

"Thanks. See you later," she replied with a smile, leaving as the bus slowed to a stop in front of the Council office.

Layla could hardly wait for the night to begin.

...

"All right, Operation Valentine's Day is a go!"

"Zach, I will turn you into a puddle if you don't stop calling it that."

"You wouldn't do that to me! You love me," Zach said, looking at Ethan with wide eyes.

"That doesn't mean you're not annoying the hell out of me," Ethan muttered. He took Zach's hand anyway as they left the movie theatre, heading towards the restaurant they had booked for dinner.

"Fine. What did you think of the movie, then?"

"I didn't exactly see much of it," Ethan pointed out, Zach grinning in response.

"Yeah. The bits I did see weren't that great anyway. Whoever decided to do a remake of Point Break was stupid."

"Besides, it was obvious he was in love with him, and then he went with his sister instead? Forced heteronormativity much?" Ethan muttered.

Zach snorted. "I love it when you use big words. Oh, here we are. Any sign of the others?" he asked, looking around quickly.

"Subtle, Zach, really," Ethan said, rolling his eyes.

There was a loud blare of sirens that had most people turning to look curiously, three fire trucks screeching down the street.

"Well, that's Phase One complete," Zach murmured to Ethan with a grin.

"Why can I actually hear you capitalising those words? Seriously? Come on, I'm hungry and I'll need the energy later on," Ethan said. He ignored Zach's waggling eyebrows and guided his boyfriend into the restaurant.

...

The thoughts of the surrounding people were a buzz in the back of Donny's mind. He let their thoughts wash over him, only focusing in on people here and there when certain words or thoughts caught his attention. Wendy was beside him in the horse-drawn carriage, playing subtle tricks with the atmosphere that most people would be too distracted to notice.

"First phase is done," Donny murmured when several people's thoughts registered the fire trucks passing by.

"Good. Excuse me for a moment," Wendy said, her expression turning blank as she focused on the atmosphere a few blocks down instead of around them.

A flash of lightning struck with devastating precision, fire trucks screeching to a halt as a lamp post fell on the road ahead of them. A second flash of lightning struck on the side street to them, effectively blocking their way to the fire.

Beside Wendy, Donny called the fire department, an urgent tone in his voice as he relayed his message. "There are people trapped in there! They're on the top floor and can't get out! Please help!"

The driver of the carriage frowned, turning to look back at their passengers. Donny smiled and touched a finger to their forehead, changing their thoughts and removing all memory of the last few minutes. The driver shook their head and turned their attention back to the road.

"Is that what you've been practising?" Wendy asked, blinking at what she'd just witnessed.

Donny nodded. "Yes. It should last without any permanent damage. Are you all done?"

"Done. You think the phone call will work?"

"It should; the operator should check where the fire trucks are and then call the emergency number instead."

...

"Come on, Mum. I can totally do it! It's on my way, and you and Dad have your date booked on the other side of town. You don't want to be late for your reservation," Will added.

Josie looked from her red phone to her son, and thought about all of the effort she'd gone to this evening. She was wearing a dress that took more time to get into than it would to get changed into her outfit to become Jetstream, but she'd just perfected her hair and put her heels on. "I still think I should go with you. It's in Westville, and what if you're not ready to do this? You haven't tried to save citizens before; they're different than saving supers."

"I saved the school; how hard can it be to save a few people from a building? Besides, they could be dying right now. I need to do this, Mum."

Steve looked from Josie to Will. "He's right, dear. I was his age when I was saving people."

Will pointed to his father quickly. "See?! I'll be fine!"

Josie sighed heavily and nodded. "All right, Will. Do you have your outfit ready?"

"Already got it on," Will said, unbuttoning his dress shirt.

While Will had helped design the outfit (colours, mostly), his parents had gifted the outfit to him since he'd received a B- on his Mad Science assignment. Also, there was the whole thing where people - citizens or supers - couldn't order the proper fabrics they needed for protective outfits for whatever reason, so he'd needed their help with that too. Now that he had the outfit, Will was determined to try it out and gain status as the hero he was meant to be. He had a small mask around his eyes, since he didn't wear glasses like his parents' alter egos did, and pulled it out of his pocket to slip it on around his head.

"My baby boy's growing up," Josie said, sniffling and trying hard not to ruin her makeup. "You call us the moment anything goes wrong. Okay?"

"Okay, Mum," Will groaned. "What's the address?"

Josie gave him the address and in less than a second, Will had flown out of the Secret Sanctum.

"He'll be all right, Josie. He's got your smarts," Steve said, kissing her. "You look lovely, by the way. We're still having dinner out, right?"

Josie pulled away and took a deep breath to compose herself. "Yes, we're going out. Come on, before I change my mind and follow Will instead. Oh, what if he needs our help?"

"You've got to stop babying him, Josie. He'll be fine. He'll call if anything's wrong," Steve added in a placating tone.

Josie sighed and nodded, trying to stop from worrying - worry lines never looked good on TV - and then they left for their date.

...

Magenta sat at the restaurant, waiting and glancing to her phone every few minutes. Around her, happy couples were eating and being nauseatingly happy together. She didn't want to start eating without Will, even though he was almost an hour late and she was starving. A waiter passed by for the third time, and Magenta straightened up in her chair, smiling quickly.

"He's on his way," she promised, the lie settling like a stone in her stomach.

The waiter didn't seem to believe her, but took the empty bread basket and continued on. Magenta hoped he'd bring more bread back. The Glass Mirror wasn't cheap and she couldn't even afford an entrée. Will had glossed over her concerns, promising to pay for their meals since he'd been given money from his parents to take her out on a nice date. Magenta wished that they'd gone to the Paper Lantern instead; at least she could afford to pay for her own meals there and she could have eaten something besides bread already.

She looked at her phone again and the several text messages she'd sent to Will, typing another to send off.

Hey, we're meeting at the restaurant, right?

Hey, are you going to be here soon?

Did you go to my house instead? Have you been captured by my mother?

That was a joke.

Did you space on our date or something? You do know Valentine's Day is today, don't you?

Will, where are you?

The waiters are glaring at me; will you be here anytime in the next hour?

Magenta sighed heavily as another 45 minutes and three waiters passed. She no longer tried to lie to them because not even she believed that Will would be coming anymore.

After all of the free bread she'd eaten and free water she'd drunk, Magenta needed the bathroom. She grabbed her phone, clutch and coat to take with her since she didn't want to leave them unattended, even inside a restaurant in Westville, and headed to the bathroom. When she came back out, Magenta saw that her table had been cleared and a couple were already seated there.

"Damn it," she muttered, sighing heavily.

Heading past the bar, Magenta saw a familiar face on the TV screen. She stood there staring, in a small state of shock because that was Will on live TV with a camera crew and ambulances and fire trucks around him. She recognised him, even with his brand new super suit and the eye mask he wore.

Magenta looked at her phone to see if he'd messaged her about anything, but there was nothing. With a surge of emotion, she pressed the call button on his name. She watched carefully on the screen to see if Will even had his damn phone on him, but he didn't look away from the camera or the reporter, and there was none of the usual fumbling that indicated he had his phone vibrating away in one of his pockets. Magenta hung up and stared at the TV, at Will, for a few more minutes. The reporter flicked her hair back, giggled, and touched Will's bicep. Will just smiled back at her charmingly and looking a little breathless at the attention.

Magenta looked at her phone and the messages she'd sent to her boyfriend on Valentine's Day - one of the more important days of the year, especially for a new couple - and then with a spike of viciousness and jealousy, she opened her contacts and started typing a new message. She glared up at Will and the reporter and pressed send forcefully.

Good evening Mrs. Stronghold. I was wondering if you've heard from Will? He hasn't turned up for our date. I've tried ringing and texting him, but there's no answer and I'm worried. Please let me know he's all right! Have a nice night, Magenta.

...

"We don't even know if she'll come this way," Craig said.

"That's why you're on a different street to me," Adam said, rolling his eyes. "You find a food cart yet?" he asked, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he unwrapped his burrito.

"Not yet. Oh, wait a sec."

"What is it? Food?" Adam asked, taking a bite of his burrito.

"No, it's her. Gotta go," Craig said, hanging up.

Adam slipped his phone away in his pocket and finished his burrito as he headed towards Craig's street, just in case he needed help.

...

Josie had kept her phone on the table, determined to fly out the second Will called, citizens be damned. Steve had spent most of the evening distracting Josie, commenting on their food, discussing (and hoping) for an upcoming holiday, and when Josie's phone did vibrate on the table almost two hours into their dinner, they both jumped in surprise.

Josie practically wrenched her hand away from her husband's grip and looked at the message she'd received. Her worried expression went blank and then her lips drew together into a thin line. Steve knew that expression far too well; Josie was pissed.

"Excuse me, dear," Josie said, pressing a few buttons on the phone to make a call, holding it up to her ear.

Steve watched in some confusion, wondering just what the message had said. He found out soon enough.

"William Theodore Stronghold, how dare you leave Magenta alone on Valentine's Day without even texting her about the delay? That poor girl has been sitting in the restaurant this whole time waiting for you, and I know how long it takes to get people out a burning building, so don't use that as an excuse! You apologise to her immediately. And why don't you have your phone on you? When you get home, you are grounded for lying to me, young man. Oh, and your father will have a few words to say to you as well," Josie snapped, ending the call abruptly.

Steve was quietly panicking at his wife's words. Across from him, Josie muttered under her breath and floated off her chair briefly. "Don't worry, Steve, I'll tell you what to say," she said when she was calmer and seated a moment later.

Steve breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, dear."

...

Magenta couldn't help but think of the Damsel in Distress class she and the other girls in her year had taken earlier in the year. The citizen in front of her held a gun, she couldn't shift in front of a citizen, and her mother had already threatened her not to stain her dress before she left the house, so she'd probably kill her if she ended up getting a bullet hole in the dress. She stared at the gun for a moment longer, vaguely noting that she was probably in a state of shock, and then, just as she'd learnt at Sky High, she screamed for help.

It might have worked in Maxville, where citizens were used to screams of terror and running to help or running to find the closest superhero. They were in Westville instead, where people hurried past if someone screamed, hoping they wouldn't become the next victim themselves. It probably didn't help that the man had dragged her into an alley, blocking the only exit. She felt her power crawling under her skin, the urge to shift and flee almost overwhelming her.

"Fucking hell," the man snarled, dashing forward to put a hand over her mouth and press the gun to her side. "Just give me your money and phone and I'll let you live," he snapped.

Magenta wanted to roll her eyes at the clichéd words, but apparently her classes had taught her a thing or two, the main thing being: don't antagonise citizens with guns. The second would probably be 'don't roll your eyes at them either' since she wasn't entirely sure that rolling your eyes actually counted as antagonising a person anyway.

Just do as the man says and you can get away from here and go home, Magenta told herself practically. Then she thought of her phone. What if Will had finally texted back? Or Mrs. Stronghold?

"It wasn't a question," the man snarled, the gun digging into her side harder now.

The gun was cold and blunt and she was sure she would bruise. She felt helpless and hated that feeling more than any other in the world. The turmoil of emotions hit her in full force - from being stood up to seeing that reporter flirting with Will to being held up by a citizen of all things - and Magenta couldn't help the tears that stung her eyes. She tried to blink them away, hating herself and wishing she didn't even have stupid tear ducts in the first place. Behind the balaclava he wore, the man's eyes seemed unaffected by her own tear-filled eyes, the gun digging in deeper.

Magenta felt her hand shaking as she handed over her clutch with the meagre thirty dollars she'd brought to contribute to dinner and her phone that was still void of returned texts or calls. The man grinned as though he was pleased about taking everything from her, and just when Magenta thought she might be able to shift and get away, the man lifted the gun and hit her on the head with it.

Magenta collapsed to the ground, her assailant running off immediately. As her world became dark, her final thought was that none of this would have happened if Will had been with her.

...

End of the forty-fifth chapter. Thanks for reading!