Interlude, Civilian
"Toooong Kaaaang. We're shooting hoops at O'Reiley's at three. We, meaning you. You got two hours!"
Click. Beeeeep.
"I told everyone you were coming, and the sun won't kill you. Up and at 'em!"
Click.
"Ass." Tong grunted.
Beeeeeep.
"If you're happy and you know it, shoot some hoops! If you're happy and you know it, shoot some hoops! If you're happy and you know it and you really want to show it, if you're happy and you know it shoot some hoops! One hour!"
Click.
He tied his shoes a bit angrily. Then sighed when he pulled too hard and undid the butterfly knot by accident. Do over. He inspected his shoes with a critical eye. Looks good. He reached out for the wheelchair armrest and hauled himself over. He strapped his legs in and snagged his duffel bag off the floor.
Beeeeeep.
"Don't leave me hanging, Tong. It'll be fun. The guys, and one girl, are all here. Giving you fifteen."
Click.
"No more messages."
Beeeeep.
He used the elevator to get down to the ground floor. It was a Sunday afternoon, which meant the apartment building was virtually empty. Everyone had someplace to go, something to do before Monday crept around. He could see his hair sticking up in odd directions in the metal reflection of the elevator door like he just rolled out of bed.
Not too far from the truth.
He had his gloves on by the time the door opened and he rolled out. The blue button on the wall with the stick person sitting on a beanbag icon was slapped roughly. The front door lurched open and he took the ramp down to the street.
One time Church St. all the way down to Bayview Ave. and through to the Boardwalk, all that was prime property. When the wind was right, you could smell the salt water. The entire thing was on a slight slope over the aqueducts. A few streets over, people could sit behind their townhouses and small backyard and see the sunlight glinting off the water and watch ships come in.
Not anymore though. No more ships and the place was like that one block of cheese that sat in the refrigerator too long. You can cut the mold from the corner, or center to make it look good from the outside. It was all rotten underneath.
"Tong!" Came from somewhere behind him. He didn't look to see who it was.
It was a sunny day, real lazy kind of day. He slowly relaxed in spite of himself as he wheeled down the sidewalk with quick pumps of his arms and then letting the chair glide. His wheelchair was 'high performance,' if that was even a thing. Not the large, clunky type given out at the hospitals because those were built assuming that most of the time someone was around to push you. And it was built assuming its use was temporary.
Insurance payout was enough for it. Barely. He'd spent months hoping they wouldn't fleece him and leave him with a clunky old thing. They came through though, pity maybe?
Yeah.
Tong growled under his breath and sped up.
Pity.
The bus stop had just come into view when he saw them. He could feel his lip curl, but he stuffed it down. They were milling on the corner like locusts. Money changed hands, as did small plastic bags. Tong's teeth itched as some laughed too loudly, cigarette smoke turning the air hazy. Dog and tiger icons, one or two dragons and a snake.
Ignore them, he thought to himself. He tightened his grip on the wheels of the chair, the friction rasping against his gloves. Not a cop anymore dumbass. No gun, ignore them.
The bus stop was just close enough to get their attention. He could feel eyes on him and he gritted his teeth. Out the corner of his eye, packets of white powder or blocks wrapped in white paper and stamped in black ink vanished into pockets.
His fingers twitched towards his cellphone in the side bag.
Even if he called it in, what was that going to do? Brockton Bay Police Department knew better than to bust an ABB drug op, he'd have to forward it to the PRT. And he knew how well that was going to fly. No known parahuman on site.
Close but no cigar.
And they knew it too. Cautious, but he was sure they'd keep right on going once he got on the bus. A man was harassing a young woman a bit further down, across the street. It was too far to hear what was going on, but their body language said it all. Not a cop, don't do it.
The guy grabbed her arm and twisted.
Tong was already pedaling across, cursing under his breath. "This is a bad idea. The fuck am I going to do? Ram him? Bite his ankles? Shit." He sucked in a breath. "Hey! Asshole! With the dog tags!"
The woman used the distraction to break free. She froze immediately after and curled into herself after a hesitant step backwards. His response was to shove her the rest of the way into the wall.
Dick. Tong thought. He scooped up a pebble from the street and ignored the burning scrape on his fingernails. He threw it, hard. It nailed the prick in the arm and from the way he flinched, Tong knew he felt it. "Talking to you, princess!"
The man turned. "Joo gu lae!?"
Korean, Tong knew that much at least. If he had to guess, wasn't something polite. " I speak 'Murican." He tried to imitate his roommate with a cocky smile. He felt sick doing it. De-escalate. "I'm going to steal her for five minutes. You mind?"
The man's head swiveled between Tong and the woman twice. The anger bled into irritated confusion. "She good, not that good." His laugh after was grating.
Should have aimed for his head. With a bigger rock.
"I want to talk to her." Tong saw the man's expression begin to turn ugly and he held up his palm quickly. "Wait, wait." He leaned into the armrest so he could lift up his butt cheek. He fished out his wallet and pulled out a twenty. "I just want to talk to her." He offered the money.
After a moment of thought, the bill was snatched out of his hand. "Five minutes."
Tong nodded and wheeled over. Close up, he had to revise his estimate of her age. Not quite twenties, it was just the makeup adding a mature cast to her face. He'd be about six inches taller than her standing up, but he hadn't been able to really stand up in four years so he stopped a few feet away. Enough to give her space and so he wouldn't have to crane his neck to look her in the eye.
"Hey," he called softly.
Her arms were still wrapped around herself. She shivered as her head bobbed, low. He wasn't sure if she was just showing that much respect or overcompensating because he was shorter. "T-than' 'ou."
Her accent was thick and he frowned. "You're welcome." He rocked his wheelchair a little before shifting the small lever on the right wheel that acted as a brake. "Why are you doing this?" He nodded his head back at the man who took his money. "Why?"
She shrugged thin shoulders and looked away.
"Hey," he said, even softer. It coaxed her eyes back to him. "You can get out, stop doing this. If you want. I can help."
She shook, a full body shiver. "Can' leave." The 'L' was poorly formed and it just added to the sinking feeling in his gut. How long had she been here? Did she have identification?
"I can help," Tong repeated. "I've got friends at the police station," Badge #137, medically discharged thanks to his lower body paralysis, but he kept in touch. He had to or he'd have gone insane. "And the PRT if – "
She was shaking her head hard. "Can'. Lung – "
"Forget Lung." He said a bit more harshly than he intended. Hypocrite, he thought. He leaned forward. "Did she threaten you? Is someone going to hurt you if you try to leave?" He glanced over his shoulder. The man was getting impatient, tapping his heel against the street curb. "Him?"
She kept shaking and clammed up.
Tong sighed. He wasn't going to get anything if he kept pushing her. The feeling of helplessness burned at the back of his throat. He swallowed it down. "I live on Church." He pointed. "A block that way, brick outside, green door. 451b. Can you remember that?"
Her eyes followed his finger and flickered back. "Yes."
"If you want help, go there. Okay?" Her head dropped. From shame? He worked his jaw and tried to keep from grinding his teeth again. "Okay?"
"Okay." She glanced up, then past him. "'ou buy me?"
"No." He punctuated it with a chop of his hand. "Just wanted to talk. Church street, 451b. Green door. Remember. Please."
She nodded.
He tried a smile. "Stay safe."
He undid the brake and tugged at his fingerless gloves to make sure they were flush against the ravines between his fingers. He circled his thumbs and wheeled away. He'd have to let his roommate know to keep an eye out. Robin had the oddest times, but he was a good guy. Eager to help.
Tong went back to the bus stop. He met the eyes of anyone who looked at him aggressively. What are you looking at? Gonna do something about it?
For all the unity talk, no one seemed to want to lift a finger. Which was good or otherwise he would have gotten his ass kicked. Dumb, stupid, idiot.
He felt good though. He felt good.
When the bus came by, he noticed with dismay it was one of those old ones still in circulation. Only one door at the front and just stairs all the way up. The elderly man at the wheel peered out at him suspiciously, flickering over the small group at the corner before reluctantly stopping the vehicle and opening the door.
"You need help there, son?"
"No sir." Tong rolled close enough to tag the stair rail with one hand and leaned back until the front wheels were above the platform. Pulled himself in and then put his upper body strength to work crab-walking on his hands using the rails to get on board. His arms and chest muscles burned. "Ta da."
Oh god, he was going to have a heart attack -
The driver huffed and closed the door.
Tong grimaced as he approached the door at an angle. No button for the handicapped. Naturally. It was an indoor gym after all, who wants crippled people? Grunting, he pulled the door open as wide as he could without leaning too far out of the chair and dumping his sports bag. The other hand inched the left wheel forward so he turned into the door to keep it open. He dropped his right to the wheel and shoved the door as hard as he could with his shoulder and scooted forward.
It came back on him but he was through. He ignored the slight ache and wheeled in.
"Hey," he called as he approached the front desk. It had a clean-cut, blond twenty something man behind it wearing the light blue shirt with a volleyball logo and stripped sleeves. He put down the magazine he was reading.
"Can I help you?" The name tag sticker was threatening to fall off but he could see 'Dan.' Slight musculature with a slight beer belly. College kids, Tong thought.
"My friends reserved a court, you got Robin on your books anywhere?" He took his bag off his lap and reached behind him to snag it on the handlebar.
Dan flipped his chair around and pulled a white binder down from a bookshelf filled with magazines, binders and different colors and small trophies. Volleyball, basketball, badminton. "Yeah, court 3. Down the hall, take a left."
"Thanks."
Dan set the binder down and stood up. "Need any help?" He gestured vaguely at the wheelchair.
Tong ducked his head and bit his lip. "I'm good, thanks."
"Cool."
He passed two leggy brunettes in the hall, short shorts and carrying badminton rackets. He was really glad he opted to wear sweatpants so they didn't see how atrophied his legs were.
"Ladies."
The one on the left glanced at his legs, or the chair, either or. "Hi."
She kept walking.
Yeah, well, can't win them all.
The right shot him a warm smile and slowed. "Weight lifting?"
He flexed in an exaggerated macho man manner. He was damn proud of – everything but his legs. "Nah, basketball."
Her eyebrows shot up as she drifted past. "Huh."
He still had a slight smile on his face when he reached court 3. He could see through the glass doors that the guys were already there including some members of his old police unit. The smile grew stronger as he rapped on the door. Robin was easy to spot, lone black guy. He broke away from the small crowd milling around with an infectious half-smile.
Tong wheeled backwards to allow the door enough room to swing open. "I'm here."
"I would have never stopped bitching otherwise." Robin cackled and hijacked the chair over Tong's protests. "Look who rolled out of bed!"
Worst roommate ever. He left his shoes wherever he took them off, insisted on cooking things with way too much spice and was always up listening to instructional DVDs on Chinese at 3 in the goddamn morning, but - ah, who was he kidding? Someone needed to kick his ass every now and again to get him moving. Tong couldn't imagine going through that first year out of the hospital alone.
Gary, a hulking bear of a man with a matching beard and hairy arms ruffled Tong's hair. "Doing alright, kid?"
"How's the PRT treating you guys?" Tong smiled.
"You know how it is," he shrugged. "The pay's terrible but the fringe benefits are appalling." They shared a grin before Gary sobered. "Jeremy's in the hospital."
A phantom ache at the base of his spine straightened Tong's back. "What for? What happened? He going to be okay?"
"Crusader." He shook his head, smiling ruefully. "They barely got out before Krieg showed up. And you know Ranan. Another place to patrol around for the foreseeable future. Till Piggot signs off on giving the all-clear, at least."
Tong knew Ranan. Cautious to a fault, maybe, but who could blame him? Ever since that blow out that took out Manpower and nearly axed Armsmaster, everyone was on eggshells. Piggot wasn't going to sign off on clearing. Not anytime soon.
It was like the city was shrinking every day. "I'll stop by, General?"
"Bring chocolate pudding cups when you go. Would not shut up about hospital jello."
The rest of the crew were an eclectic bunch, but they were his bunch. Ethan and his wife Morgan in matching sport tees and arguing like they hated each others guts. Jason with too much money, chronic laziness and a habit of dressing up as Hercules for Halloween. The Mayor's kid Rory had been joining them lately, sometimes on the sidelines with his nose buried in a textbook but he seemed alright. There was a new face, curly brown hair and slightly tanned and Tong pointed him out.
"Name?"
"Carlos."
"Grandmother's neighbor's sister's husband's nephew." Ethan said with his usual shit-eating grin. "Twice removed."
A hero? Tong thought. It was a kind of an open secret, the big pink elephant in the room when Jason's pants or jacket would spark with white energy a bit too bright to be static when he got excited. Or when Robin got a call in the middle of making a sandwich, make some halfass excuse and Tong would read about a Protectorate dust up with the E88 or ABB in tomorrow's paper.
"You're on my team, kid." Tong double checked the straps holding his legs in place and motioned for the ball. "Robin?"
"I got your back."
"Gentlemen," Ethan began. "Prepare to get your asses kicked."
"Oh really?" His wife, Morgan crossed over to Tong's side and snagged the basketball, setting it on her hip.
The man's permanent smile died at the betrayal. "Well, shit."
"We lose, you'll never hear the end of it," Jason remarked. "We win…"
"Couch." Ethan sighed at Morgan's vicious little smile. He dug into his pocket for the quarter that set their games. "Heads." He flipped it, and opened his hand to show everyone the George Washington. "Our ball!"
It's always heads, Tong groused. How's he doing that?
They played best two out of three. His team lost, not that it was any surprise really, instead of four people they had three and a half, but he had fun and didn't feel like too much of a burden. The middle of the court was taken up by people sprawled out on the polished floor. Carlos and Rory did the water and Gatorade run to the vending machine and sacrificed Ethan's quarter for a Snickers bar.
"We should get -" Rory's voice hiccuped as he squeezed into his sweatshirt. There was a halfway point where the sleeves were just flopping all over the place and just his hair was sticking out the collar as he spoke, muffled. "Colin and Hannah to join us, you think?"
"Colin." Ethan repeated. His face scrunched up in confusion as he twisted the cap off a bottle. "Colin."
Morgan readjusted the jacket she was using as a pillow. "We can get Hannah if it's soccer."
Tong bit his lip and experimentally rolled his chair back and forth. He wouldn't be making any penalty shots anytime soon but, "I can try to swing it. Need a good field though."
(Behind him Jason and Carlos were having their own quiet conversation. "You tell your girlfriend, to tell her mother, that I got the mortgage this month."
"Thanks, how did you - "
"Eric.")
"We playing another?" Tong asked. "Best three out of four?"
Morgan groaned and covered her face with her right forearm.
"Work," Ethan said as Rory opened his mouth. The kid paused, a minute frustrated expression passed over his face before he tried again.
"Uh, babysitting my cousin."
One by one the rest of them begged off for a variety of reasons. Gary had promised to look at the garage door before his wife got home, Carlos had a school project to finish, Jason tried to nonchalantly claim he was meeting someone for drinks only to get dogpiled. Well, it was mostly just Ethan.
"Date!? You have a date? Why didn't you tell me?"
"The last time I told you anything - "
"Pfft, this is different." Ethan waved it away with the open water bottle, spilling it on himself. He put the bottle down. "Wait, is this that one girl that - "
"Yes," Jason cut him off.
"So."
Morgan lifted her arm briefly. "Behave."
"Just making a comment." Ethan held up his hands innocently. "Drinks, huh? Stop by, order something fruity with a weird name, go home?"
"I dunno, catch up, hang out. We –"
"Break the bed again," Ethan interrupted loudly in a stage whisper.
Catcalls instantly broke out. Carlos put fingers in his mouth and let loose a piercing wolf whistle. Jason stopped and turned a glare on the widely grinning Ethan as Robin playfully punched his shoulder. His lips twitched. Tong watched a flush slowly make its way up his neck into his cheeks and chuckled at the man's embarrassment.
"Look at his face!" Ethan howled. "Look at it! Look at it!"
Jason bounced the basketball off Ethan's head.
"Never gonna tell you anything."
"You're only getting that now?" Morgan teased, reaching with her free hand to poke her husband in the side. "Slow learner."
Ethan pouted.
They all dragged their feet packing up, trading jokes and news but in the end they turned in the ball and filed out of O'Reiley's Indoor Gym. "Next week?" Tong asked, trying not to sound like he was pleading. "Same time?"
Some visibly thought, others pulled out their phones to check their schedules.
"I can make it," Rory offered first.
Ethan and Morgan did their 'silent conversation' thing with their eyes. "We can make it if we push it back an hour," Morgan said eventually. "That alright?"
Tong didn't quite sigh in relief when it was.
They said their goodbyes and began to split up. Carlos hung around and raised his hand like he was in class. "Tong, right? Sorry, was just wondering," He nodded self-consciously at the wheelchair. "What happened?"
Tong sucked on his teeth. "Lung happened."
The boy flinched back in surprise. "Why?"
Something hot and ugly formed in his stomach. He angrily set the brake on his chair. "Does it matter why? Damn." He breathed, lowering his head into his hands. Easy, officer. Don't bite the kid's head off. "Look," he recovered and pretended to check over the straps holding his legs in place. "Ideally, you have superpowered assholes making trouble, the PRT or the Protectorate deals with it. What really happens is that you've got someone making the call on who's going out. Are the fire department going to respond to a fire? A patrol to divert to a 911? And you don't know what you're gonna get, till you get there."
Carlos nodded slowly. "Lung?"
"Yeah," Tong blew out a harsh breath and shifted on his chair. "Point is, it only takes one fuckup." He held up his index finger. "One hit a little too hard on a 'normal.' You ruin their life. So you," he pushed Carlos lightly. "You watch yourself, okay?"
"Yeah." Carlos smiled somberly. "I know someone, who could talk to P – " The kid grimaced. "Amy Dallon. Do you want….?"
"I - " Tong swallowed. "I'm pretty bad off." He gripped his thigh through the sweatpants and grimaced at how he could almost fit his hand around it. It was all hard, flush against the bone and tendons.
"It won't be a five minute thing, but she could heal you."
The bottom dropped out of Tong's stomach. She could heal me. Last he heard, the kid had retired from the 'lay on hands' thing. Onto bigger things. And after everything that happened to New Wave, people just…let her go. And not in a healthy way either, like she was just as broken as the rest of the ones off the roster.
There were rumors, on PHO and other places. Maybe she was.
Selfish of him to hope, but...
"That – " he swallowed. "That would be – " He stopped talking and just laughed.
Carlos laughed with him. "That a yes?"
"Hell yeah!"
Robin extended the invitation to join him and Jason down at The House. And there was nothing good to watch on the TV anyway, so he took it. A bit aways, but they had time to kill. He took a shower and put on one of his good shirts. The jeans were always a pain in the ass, no change there. After stuffing his feet into his Nike's and lacing them, he was good to go.
Jason met them a few blocks from their destination cleaned up and hair still wet. At first he was just talking and joking with them like he always did. Then he saw the big neon sign rise up in the distance and it was like it triggered hyper-awareness of his wheelchair and the other people on the street headed in the same direction. Walking on two feet.
The feeling got worse the closer to the building they got. Tong could already hear the club music beats vibrating through the walls and all he could think about were his emaciated legs and shriveled feet. He couldn't dance. The last time he got drunk he tried to pop wheelies in his chair and got horrific rug burns. On pavement. What was he doing here?
"Hey, uh, maybe I should just go home…"
"One drink," Robin insisted. "A glass, mug or shot, come on, man. Live a little."
Tong smiled weakly and let himself be pushed along.
The House used to be part of the Boardwalk tourist circuit. Unofficially. In the daytime guests from out of state toured the shops and cafe's on the waterfront, or swam in the approved areas of the Bay. Aside from that one store selling printed T-shirts it was all very PG rated, fun for the whole family.
Come sunset, you ditch the kids and/or the parents and hit up Brockton Bay's nightlife. There used to be a rave place on Lincoln, the whole thing was designed like an aquarium and shined the lights through the water. Perfect for making newcomers and lightweights puke their guts out on the sidewalk. It closed down a couple years ago. The Journal reported on it as part of a series covered the economic decline and why businesses were moving out of the city.
Tong wasn't sure why The House fared better, maybe because it was a little of everything. Pool tables, dance floor, bar with large televisions on the walls and club sandwiches. It switched hands sometime ago but no one knew who had bought it out. Mallory, the old owner still ran the place but it was real obvious something had changed.
For one thing? Lot of Asians.
"One drink," Tong muttered. Jason held open the door. The vibrations of the sub woofer escaped and made his head pulse. It didn't take his eyes long to adjust to the low light, everything was colored in hot pink. One of the back walls by the bar was covered in windows facing a large parking lot spotted with sedans and one white van close to the building.
"Am I sparking?"
"You're not sparking."
"You sure?"
"You're fine."
The House wasn't packed, but it had a good number of people at the bar and pool tables. He'd give it an hour before people had a high enough blood alcohol content to hit the dance floor. Jason was scanning the crowd and to his credit wasn't lingering on any of the more provocatively dressed women there.
Tong wasn't so lucky. The height thing was problematic.
"What's she look like?" Robin led the way past the people clogging the entrance being the tallest of them.
"Bit on the tall side. Japanese? Long black hair, brown eyes, athletic, legs like you wouldn't believe-"
Robin barked out a laugh. "Found her."
Tong followed their gazes a bit awkwardly, half a dozen people were blocking his vision but he eventually got a glimpse of an attractive Asian woman at the bar, talking to a muscle bound guy sporting an open shirt and dragon tattoo on his chest. She didn't have any icons or tattoos that Tong could see, just a plain red T-shirt, denim shorts and a jean jacket across her shoulders decorated with a cherry blossom tree. Her long black hair was swept back and pinned with an elaborate dragon clip.
He was kind of hoping the clip didn't actually mean anything.
"She got a name?" Tong asked. Please be something he didn't recognize. Please be something he didn't recognize.
"Noriko." Whew, Tong thought. Jason cracked his neck. "Excuse me, someone is chatting up my girl."
"If I have to bail your ass out of jail," Robin began. "Piggot is gonna kill us both."
Dragon-tattoo guy had his hopes crash and burn as soon as their friend stepped within her line of sight. She scrambled off her bar stool a bit awkwardly, kicking off her heels when they got caught and going barefoot, and nearly bowled Jason over with a kiss that made Tong feel like a voyeur just watching.
"Damn."
"Ichi! Ni! San!"
Tong slammed back the shot. It burned all the way down and left a tangy sweetness on his tongue. He held the shot glass out for a refill. How many was this? He squinted. Someone slapped him on the shoulder laughing uproariously - couldn't remember the guy's name but he'd been there for the last three slammers - and emptied the bottle into his glass.
He saluted Robin with it and then looked around for Jason so he could salute him too, because leaving people out was a dick move. And he wasn't a dick, there were plenty of people who were though like Kaiser! Everything about that guy screamed 'I'm a douchebag' and then he was a Nazi on top of it -
Oh hey, there he was. In the booth literally caddy corner from him, how'd he miss that? Tong raised his glass in that general direction. Not that Jason noticed. At some point, whatever conversation he and Noriko were having escalated into tonsil hockey.
Tong nudged Robin and pointed at the couple. "For happy endings!" He yelled.
The table roared in approval with him and they all downed their shots. He watched one guy get laid the fuck out trying to get up from the bar stool and was kind of glad he had his chair strapped to his ass. Tong spent the next couple of minutes counting the cars through the window and counting the people to check if they all had designated drivers, but he kept losing track. Why couldn't people just stay still?
"DUI festival," Tong concluded. 'Festival' was only slightly slurred. "Making bank."
Robin scooted the liquor bottle away from him. "Didn't do nothin', officer. Swear it."
Tong was laughing so hard he choked when the white van exploded.
There was a split second of extreme vertigo. The entire world tilted on its axis before the earth-shattering boom screamed into his eardrums. His head cracked against the floor -
Sound. Dim, fuzzy sound like he was submerged in water. Weight was on him. His head felt like it had been cracked open. He blinked open dry eyes. The back wall of windows was gone. The ceiling sagged and broke. Blood was all over the floor from the glass and more. The booths were peppered with hundreds of round holes ripping through wood, cushions and people. Tong breathed and it gurgled, a deep, sharp pain radiated out from his rib cage. His body was pinning his arm to the floor and it was cold, and sticky. And he was tired.
Where was Robin? Jason?
He blinked slowly. Then again. Black was creeping into the corners of his vision when he saw the woman stand up. He recognized her. Metal fragments pushed themselves out of her skin. She looked around.
"Help."
She heard.
Bare feet and the scales sliding out of her skin were the last thing he saw.