(Author's Note: This was originally intended to be a preamble to chapter 75, but time constraints have delayed that chapter further. I have decided to post this section as its own mini-interlude to tide things over until the next full chapter.)
74.1 Interlude Mike
Mike looked over the staggering extent of the damage that had been wrought onto the city. Onto what used to be his city. Despite the years of absence there was still a feeling of ownership, of responsibility for the place.
If Amy hadn't called him, would he have come back on his own? Taken up the requests for aid and offered to help?
Probably not. He loved this city, it had been his home, but the baggage attached to it, and to New Wave in particular, was more that he would have been able to deal with. It sounded horrible, but if the team hadn't been falling apart, if he was facing a united front of his sisters, then it probably would have been too much for him to tolerate.
He wouldn't have wished for the situation the team was in, but he didn't feel responsible for it. If anything, it was confirmation of what he had said before he left. Well, really more of what he had exchanged in shouting matches with his sisters. That hadn't been the best of times, though the current state of things made those days look positively nostalgic.
New Wave was, if anything, in an even worse state than the city as a whole. He had never seen them this bad. Not even after Jess's death. It was easy to understand how the PRT had assigned so much concern to Apeiron's actions. If New Wave really was the stalwart and resilient group they depleted themselves as and had been brought so low so easily then it would have indicated a very powerful cape at work.
But New Wave was anything but resilient. Sara and Neil's marriage had been on the rocks from before he left, Carol had always been a piece of work, and with Mark, well, it was obvious in hindsight. Not that it was any help now. No, problems had persisted far past the point where they had a hope of actually dealing with them. Now it was just damage control, for both the team and the city.
Mike spotted a figure in green and white waiting under a streetlamp in the fading twilight of evening. He raised a hand and gave a wide wave. The motion attracted the man's attention, earning Mike a slight wave in return. Really just a raising of one hand before dropping it again.
Contrasting the vision of Flashbang standing before him with the force of nature that had taken off online, that had managed to stand out even in the face of everything Apeiron had pulled, well, he would say it was jarring, but he knew the man too well for that. He wasn't sure if it was a consequence of being married to Carol, or if it was one of the things that drew her to him, but Mark was never a real presence outside of combat. He'd fade into the background, or slink off at the earlier opportunity. Now he knew what that meant, but earlier, when it had all been family stress and cape concern he'd been as blind to it as anyone else.
Nobody had really known what was happening. Too many of their own concerns, their own problems. Carol had known, but Mike knew her approach to mental issues. Neil had known, but finding out about a man's conditions while sleeping with his wife didn't exactly lead to a supportive relationship. For him, well, Carol never trusted him with anything. The little brother, tagging along with his big sister's plans.
Frankly, it was a miracle the team had lasted this long. From what he'd been able to gather, they'd been skating by on inertia from their creation. The New Wave movement sputtered out the instant it became clear what the consequences of a public identity were. After that, it had just become a family team, coasting on the branding from the initial push. Apeiron had proven, it only took one push at the wrong time to bring it all tumbling down.
If you rolled back the years to when he was still angry, fresh with outrage from Jess's death and furious at his sisters he might have felt some satisfaction in the current situation, some level of vindication. Instead, all he could see was the pain the drawn-out collapse had caused. Getting out, meeting Beth, starting his own family, away from all this, it had changed his perspective. Given him a chance to grow up. Being with people who didn't expect the worst from you, it was incredible how it could change your outlook.
Only now he was back, and finding that new outlook clashing with everything he left behind. That holding action that had been maintaining New Wave seemed to have seeped into every member of the team, locking them in place. Somehow, the fact that they hadn't changed made them seem less familiar than ever. It was like watching old home movies, only on tape that had started to wear out, leaving the image distorted.
And he was the one left to fix it. To fix everything. Something his sisters would have never trusted him with, and his brothers in law would never have expected from him. To be fair, nobody expected it from him now. He was just the only person distant from the mess to be able to move between players relatively freely. Sure, Carol was as hostile as ever, Sarah was a mess, Neil was beating himself up, the kids were missing or directionless, and Mark was his own special set of concerns, but none of that was related to him. The unresolved issues from his departure weren't worth dredging up in the face of the current crisis, leaving him as the effective intra team ambassador.
Which also led to his presence here and now.
"Flashbang." Mike called out in the most over the top tone he could manage. Something from back when they were starting out, working on introductions and potential soundbites. Mark gave him a frustrated huff, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
"Lightstar." He said in a flat voice. "What, are we framing this as a team up? Something for the cameras?"
Mike shook his head. "I think you've gotten enough camera coverage for both of us." He joked. "But no." He said, looking around. Definitely no cameras. Not in this part of the city. The recovery workers vanished at sundown, leaving the city empty. There might be the occasional stary individual slipping through the area, but really, this close to the blackout zone, there was no reason for anyone to be out.
Which also meant no reason to patrol. You could make an argument about the importance of maintaining a presence in the area or showing the flag, but Mike knew that Mark wasn't choosing his patrol times or routes based on some analysis of critical response requirements. A long walk through a dark section of the city was probably exactly what the man was looking for at this point.
"I can handle this on my own." Mark assured him. "I don't need your help."
Mike had to chuckle at that. "Believe me, I know. Half the internet knows. If things head south, you won't have to worry about me. I'll fall back and let you do your thing."
That got a ghost of a smile out of Mark as he looked down at his grenade patterned gauntlets. Mike had expected to find them and Mark in worse shape, but beyond a few scuffs there was no sign of the amount of work the man had been putting in over the past week.
"You know, I never really thought about doing something like that, back when I was with the team." From Mark's phrasing Mike couldn't help but feel like there was a finality in the way his time with New Wave was referred to in the past tense.
"Most people don't realize how hard it can be. Using explosives, I mean." He lifted one of his hands for emphasis and Mark nodded at Mike's words. "Need to keep track of the entire battlefield, locations of friends and enemies, judge distance from the detonations and targets, different loads for brutes and people with normal durability, being aware of confined spaces, accounting for shrapnel and making sure not to compromise structural integrity."
"It's like playing chess, every time you hit the streets." Mark said as he leaned back. "Honestly, it's been a relief, being able to open up like that. Just sweep everything off the board, rather than mess with the fiddling bits and setup."
Mark was lucky like that. He could dial down his explosives to a non-lethal range. The name 'Flashbang' wasn't the complete misnomer the internet seemed to believe it was. Mark was actually able to pepper an area in blasts without worrying about leaving a scene out of a civil war battlefield. Of course, against harder targets he was free to use lethal blasts to the same degree of saturation, as Hookwolf had learned first hand.
"Certainly made an impact." Mike said cautiously. "Are you going to follow up on any of that?"
Flashbang shifted awkwardly. "I've gotten some offers. Some good offers to be honest. I'm not sure how serious they are, or if they'll still be around after the internet gets down with this fad." He let out a breath. "I don't want to leave Brockton Bay." To his credit, he managed to avoid making it sound like an accusation specifically directed at Mike. Mike managed to avoid reacting to the probably unintended slight and let Mark continue.
"With everything happening with Vicky, Amy, Carol, everything…" He let out a breath. "It doesn't seem right to be looking at anything after this. I'm not sure if I even want there to be an 'after'." He shook his head. "It feels too much like running away."
Admittedly, Mike had the advantage of lacking significant ties to the city when he left the team. His relationship with his sisters was rocky at best, and with Jess gone there wasn't anything keeping him there. Mark was in a very different situation, and one that was a lot more complicated.
He shrugged and looked out over the city. The last of the day's light was fading from the sky, making the lack of streetlights within the dark zone particularly noticeable. It wasn't an obstacle for Mike, not with his powers, but even with his night vision, he understood how oppressive that kind of clawing darkness could be.
"Where do you want to start this thing? Are you following the old patrols, or what?" He asked.
Mark shook his head. "Those routes aren't relevant with the ABB broken, and most of them aren't passable anymore." He scanned across the darkening city. "Usually, I cut through the dark zone just after sundown, then do a few loops along the border of Merchant territory before circling back along the western edge of the zone." He turned back to Mike. "It's a pretty long route. You really don't have to come."
"Mark, the Teeth are back in town. I know you can handle a lot, but you don't take chances with the Butcher." That got a reluctant nod from the man. They both remembered the time before the Teeth had been driven out, and the hellish period immediately preceding their exile. Given that the Butcher had only gotten more powerful and more unstable in the intervening years, that wasn't something to take lightly.
They began picking their way through the dark zone. Mike had already pulled the battery from his phone and made sure he wasn't carrying anything that could be affected, but there was still something unsettling about being inside the dark zone. Maybe it was the fact that you knew you were completely cut off. No signaling for help, no backup. Just you against whatever the night held.
And Mark had been patrolling nightly since the Ungodly Hour. Granted, it wasn't entirely inside the zone, but the northern edge was hardly more accessible, at least before Armsmaster and Dragon had managed to clear another corridor at the eastern edge.
"God but this is eerie." Mike muttered as they made their way over one of the improvised bridges covering a trench that had been cut through the city. The active trails of elemental energy may have died out, but the damage was still there. It was still everywhere. The city was definitely in cleanup and recovery, with any hope of restoration sitting fairly distantly.
"The silence?" Mark asked. Mike nodded to him. "It's less dead once you get outside the zone, but that's mostly Merchant parties or the occasional stubborn resident." He sighed as they continued down the street. "People are basically writing off the northern end of the city. Do you know when the police will get back through there?"
Mike shook his head. "They took a lot of losses in the bombings, particularly the first wave. Relief forces from other cities have helped, but they're stretched thin. Last I heard they're offering to evacuate anyone isolated north of the zone, but with only two routes through they can't effectively respond to incidents in that area."
Really, they could barely respond to incidents in the areas where they actually had stations and resources. The gangs had been less confrontational following the Ungodly Hour and their strikes into ABB territory, but that was just accounting for the organized side of crime. The city was stressed, and stress had a tendency to explode at the worst moments. There was no shortage of 'minor' incidents that had the potential to turn not-so-minor at a moment's notice. Apeiron may have cowed the big fish, but there were plenty of little problems that could make life hell for the people of the city.
"How bad is it up there?" Mike asked. Mark walked a few more steps before responding.
"Bad. Could be worse, but that's not saying much. I haven't had to do much. People are scattering as soon as I show up."
"Advantage of your reputation?" He asked.
"I guess." Marks said noncommittally. "I think the Merchants are avoiding me, but I haven't actually crashed any of their events."
"Guess they're not eager for a rematch." Mike said in an attempt at good humor. Honestly, no group in the city would have anticipated what Flashbang was able to accomplish by cutting loose. The Merchants' loss might have been played as a fluke, or a consequence of the gang's incompetence, but Flashbang holding off two teams of Empire capes on his own had cemented his reputation. It really said something that the Merchants weren't even trying to get payback, instead cutting their losses even as they were being challenged on their doorstep.
His mind jumped back to the way Sarah and Carol would carefully manage the team's strategy and tactics. Precise use of force, careful coordination. It was something that New Wave's success was generally attributed to. Of course, that was falling away now. It's hard to be proud of your brilliant tactics when evidently a better result could be achieved by pointing Flashbang at the problem and instructing him to fuck shit up.
"How is the rest of the team doing?" Mark asked. The sudden question took Mike off guard, mostly because he'd been trying to avoid the topic. Mostly because there wasn't anything good to say.
"Not good." He admitted. "This is hitting Sara hard." That got an understanding nod from Mark. "Crystal is managing things as well as she can, but the team is effectively leaderless right now."
That was a major problem. The critical shortage of emergency responders meant capes were more important than ever. New Wave had gone from a team that could be called out on a moment's notice to a collection of aimless heroes, most of whom couldn't stand the sight of each other. Individual members had stepped up, but always in isolated cases with no central direction or coordination. Half the reason he was here, with Mark, was so that the police would have a point of contact for at least one member of New Wave.
"Neil…" He saw Mark tense at the name, his hands bunching into fists. Briefly, he wondered if he should back off, but decided to press on. "Neil kind of fell in with Fire and Rescue during the Ungodly Hour. He's been working there with one of the other visiting capes, Case 53 from California."
Mark took some deep breaths and Mike could see waves of tension moving through his body. He decided to move on, but it was unlikely the rest of his information would bring about a more pleasant reaction, assuming Mark didn't know it already.
"Carol has been tied up with Vicky and Amy's cases." From what he'd heard it was in more of an obstructive capacity than any attempt to resolve the situation. "I've spoken with Carol a couple of times, but, you know." Mark nodded. "I've called Amy a few times, but haven't been able to visit since the meeting with the Youth Guard."
Mark let out a long breath. His pace slowed to the point where Mike turned to check on him.
"Thank you, for doing that." He said to Mike. "I should have been there. Damn it, I should have been the one to tell her, years ago, but Carol…"
"I get it." Mike replied.
"No." Mark said with a sharp exhale. "This thing, it was never supposed to be a secret, not like this. We were always going to tell her when she got older. It's just, it never came, and Carol always shot it down, and I didn't bring it up as often as I should have. And then, finding out it was eating away at her like that…" He took a deep breath. As he let it out his posture slumped. He normally looked five to ten years younger than his actual age, but he seemed to age twenty years in a single breath.
"I've failed her as a father." He said in a cold voice.
"What?" He asked. In the darkness of a blackout zone that blocked radio waves and obscured vision, it was probably the most private environment you could get while technically being public. Still, Mike had to admit, it made him a bit uncomfortable. People didn't open up to him like this. His family certainly didn't. But somehow he had become the stable one who everyone could talk to.
Probably for lack of options, but that didn't change the situation. Carol's rants, Sarah's breakdowns, Crystal's concerns, Neil's aimless guilt, and now Mark. What was it that turned him from the bratty younger brother into the family confidant?
"You know about my… about the Dysthymia?" Mike nodded. Not the precise medical terms, but he knew about Mark's struggles with depression.
They took a moment while Mark gathered his thoughts. "You know, Carol didn't want children?" Mike raised an eyebrow. With the way she doted on Vicky he never would have guessed. "I argued for it. Promised I would be there. Support her, take care of everything I could. Back when I didn't know what it would be like." He let out another breath. "I know she was having a hard time with Vicky, before we took in Amy. I know it got worse. Knew it got worse." He clenched a fist. "I know everything I did wrong, every time I forgot a promise or missed an appointment, or forgot to take my medication. I know I wasn't there like I should have been, and I can't help but think, if I had, then maybe she wouldn't have…"
He took a couple of quick breaths, almost forcing himself to calm down. Mike's mind jumped back to those video clips; the footage of absolute devastation wrought by his brother-in-law. At the time he had wondered where that kind of outburst had come from.
He wasn't wondering that any more.
"It feels like it's giving her an excuse." He said. "Like that somehow exonerates her for what she did. And I can't stand the thought of that."
Mike took a breath before responding. "Look, Carol… she's always been hard to deal with, even before she had powers. You…" He considered how to put it delicately. "You were a good fit, at least at the start." It was a nice way of saying that Mark had an exceptional talent for dealing with Carol's bullshit. Hell, he actually seemed to be a bit of a moderating influence on things. "But she's responsible for what she did and the way she did it. Having a reason isn't the same thing as having an excuse."
Those were Beth's words. Words that had to be directed at him on occasion. As much as he didn't like to admit it, there were common traits that ran through the three of them. Expressed differently, and processed differently, but they were still there.
"After hearing about Marquis, Amy is in a rough place. Things are going to be difficult between her and Carol." As if they weren't already. "Have you had a chance to speak with her?"
Mark shook his head. "Carol has taken over everything for her and Vicky's case. I didn't even hear about most of it until it was already underway. After the last time we spoke she started running things from her office, rather than the house. I've reached out to the PRT directly, but with everything else going on it's not a priority, and Carol running interference doesn't help."
"You haven't heard anything?" Mike asked. The length of Amy's containment was bordering on absurd, particularly once she had been released from holding at the PRT headquarters. There was something going on, and the fact that Carol was obscuring it didn't bode well.
"I got through to a specialist they brought down for her case, Dr. Bahar or something like that." He snorted. "Told me he was sorry I couldn't make it to his meeting with Carol."
"She didn't tell you about that, did you?" Mark shook his head. "Did he have anything else to say?"
"He… He asked about my psychiatric history." Mark admitted with significant reluctance.
"What?" Mike asked. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"I don't know." He replied. "I also don't know what Carol's been telling him, but he was asking about any shifts in my condition over the past three years."
"What does that have to do with Amy? Or master containment?" Mike asked.
"I have no idea." Mark said. "Carol wouldn't talk about it, not that she's talking about anything else."
"Jesus." Mike muttered. The idea that Carol was playing games with Amy's containment while the city was in the middle of a crisis was… well, it was regrettably in character for Carol. She could be exceptionally stubborn and myopic when she thought she was right. Which basically meant she was always exceptionally stubborn and myopic.
It might make sense if it was somehow connected to Vicky's case, but by all accounts that was an entirely separate mess. Mike hadn't heard more than 'altered power expression', but it was clear they were treating the situation as a significant priority. At least Vicky wasn't sequestered on the same level as Amy, even if she was being kept out of the field.
Mike couldn't really argue with that. If a cape relied on their powers for flight and something altered their powers in any way, you take risks with that kind of thing. Not when high altitude involuntary skydiving was a possibility.
"At this point, I don't know what to do." Mark admitted. For a man who was already feeling like he had failed his family, it was heartbreaking to see.
Once again, Mike was struck by the contrast. Flashbang, the walking artillery barrage, icon of the overpowered nature of Brockton Bay's cape scene, was helpless in the face of the problems with his family. He could fight an Empire contingent to a standstill or drive off the Merchants singlehandedly. He could patrol the least stable area of the city, sending criminals scattering at the very hint of his presence, but against something like this, he was helpless.
It was the kind of thing that made you wonder what the point of having superpowers was if they couldn't actually fix your real problems. That was what had struck him, all those years ago. The team was never short on firepower, or strategy, or direction, but they couldn't actually deal with any of their real problems. Just ignore them, or bury them in work.
"There is something." Mike admitted. Mark looked up. "You aren't going to like it."
"What?" He asked.
"Neil has been pushing to get everyone together. He asked me to float the idea." Mike said.
"What? What's that supposed to accomplish?" Mark asked in a hard voice.
"As far as I can tell, it's supposed to put things to rest." Mike explained. "New Wave basically does and doesn't exist at the moment. You need to decide what you're going to do, going forward. If that means ending the team, then that's better than leaving things undefined."
"And how is sitting down with Neil supposed to help with Carol? Or Amy? Or Vicky?" Mark asked.
"Sarah's agreed to meet." Mark gave him a skeptical look. "Okay, Crystal and Eric have promised to get her to the meeting. You show up, then Carol will show up."
"Right." Mark replied. "Can't let people make decisions without her." He shook his head. "You think this is a good idea? Everyone together in one place, with everything that's happened?"
"Hey, if the city's villains can meet without killing each other, then I'm sure New Wave can manage to keep things no worse than misdemeanor assault." He quipped.
Mark took another breath. "I don't want to do this." He admitted.
"I understand." Mike said patiently.
"Honestly, I don't think I want to see either of them, ever again." He took a breath. "But this needs to be done." He looked at Mike. "Neil, he'll back me up with Carol?" The words sounded painful to get out, like Mark was forcing them.
"For Amy? Definitely. Nobody's happy with the way she's handling things." Mike explained.
"Fine." He said. "But I want you there."
"What?" Mike asked.
"We need a neutral party." Mark stated plainly.
"And you want me for that?" He asked in shock.
"Nobody else is going to be able to do it." Mark said. "And it's probably the only way to keep Carol from taking over the discussion and completely derailing things."
There was real anger in Mark's voice when he talked about Carol, but there was sadness too. If this was going to be New Wave's final meeting then Mike couldn't help but feel sorry for him, even if it would probably be for the best in the long run.
"Fine, I'll do it." He said.
Mark gave a small nod. "Then I'll go. You can tell Neil that." In the distance the glow of streetlights was becoming visible. They were reaching the end of the dark zone. Heading out of isolation and into dangerous territory. Still, it felt like an improvement.
"Great. Let's finish this patrol." After which he would have the fun task of breaking the news to Carol. Something to look forward to, he supposed.