They leave the criminal, bound and gagged in front of the police department with a note that reads, Attempted robbery at the Enchanted Corner Café, was armed with a pistol and a pocket-knife. Bolt had drawn little frowny-faces all along the back of the slip of paper.
The Ziblings patrol the city for a while more, but they often find themselves straying back to the café.
Bolt hides in the shadows of the nearby buildings, watching the barista-Bolt squints at his nametag. That reads 'Xanthous', right?-clean up the café, setting chairs back up and repositioning tables. The cut on his face tints his cheek pink with smudged blood, and a little trickles out and slowly rolls down his skin. He appears to not care about it, though, as he neatens his café. After what felt like hours, he hangs up his apron, inhales and exhales deeply, and leaves and locks up the café, heading home for the night.
Bolt finds himself following Xanthous as he travels down the darkened streets. Bolt is not sure why he's following the barista (maybe it's because he's not convinced that the man truly is 'okay', or maybe it's because he's bored, and has nothing better to do), but he is, and he observes the man fumble with his keys for a second, unlock the door of his apartment complex, and slip inside.
Bolt stares for a moment or so, before leaping and soaring into the sky, off to find his siblings.
He finds them on the rooftop of a random building, staring at the streets below, but looking distracted.
"That was exciting," Bolt says into the empty silence, and he gestures in what he believes to be the direction of the café. "For a second, I thought this world wasn't gonna be fun."
"Poor guy," Whipney says, ignoring her little brother's attempt at a joke, and frowning slightly. "Do you guys think he'll be okay? He looked pretty shaken up."
Morph shrugs. "He will be. If he isn't already," he adds as an afterthought.
"Maybe we should have taken him to Mrs. Bailey," Blaze ponders aloud, eyes never straying from the street below. "I don't know how deep that cut was. It could get infected."
"He's a grown man," Bolt says blankly. "I think he knows how to take care of himself."
"Adults can make stupid mistakes too, Bolt."
Bolt winces at the bitter tone; it feels as if Blaze is speaking from experience. "I followed him home. He seems to be okay."
Blaze nods, raising an eyebrow at Bolt's statement. "We should head back now," he says, finally breaking his gaze at roads and fixing his eyes onto the sky. "We need to be back at the hospital before sunrise."
The others nod, and, together, they take to the sky, fading into the night.
0-0-0-0-0-0
"Hey there, kiddos." Professor Wallet welcomes them back with a warm smile.
"Hi, Dad," Blaze says in a monotone voice, obviously distracted.
Wallet's smile falters. "What's the matter, buddy? Did something happen?"
Blaze's head snaps up, taken aback at his father's statement. "Wha-No. Of course not." He gives a weak smile.
Professor Wallet gives him a knowing look. Blaze's resolve crumbles, and he sighs tiredly.
"Well-yeah, something did happen," he confesses. "There was a robbery at this café-Enchanted Cabinet or something-and I-we're worried about the barista there."
Their dad waits patiently for him to continue.
"The robber was armed. Had a pistol and a pocket-knife, and he nicked the guy working there, but I dunno how deep the cut was."
The professor nods thoughtfully. "And you're worried it might get infected."
"Yeah."
"A bullet might have grazed him, too," Morph cuts in abruptly, as if struck by a sudden realization. "There was something red dripping down his neck."
"We should have brought him to Mrs. Bailey!" Whipney's hair floats above her head, and wiggles faster, a panicked, and concerned, expression morphing on her face.
Professor Wallet raises his hands in an attempt to calm his children. "I'm sure he's fine. If you're that concerned, we can go visit his café and see how he's doing."
They all let out a collective sigh of relief, and it feels as though Bolt shrinks a few inches.
"Thanks, Dad," Bolt says gratefully, and squeezes the professor's middle. Their dad wraps his arms around the young boy.
"Any time, Bud." He smiles warmly. "Any time."
0-0-0-0-0-0
"So what the hell happened after that?"
Daniel's voice is a little choppy, coming out from Xanthous' phone. Xanthous had gotten home when he'd pulled out his phone and seen all those missed calls from Daniel. He'd called him back, and his employee had answered almost immediately. Xanthous sighs, and he carefully wipes the cut on his face with a damp cloth, wincing at the slight sting.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Xanthous says, and reaches a hand to gingerly touch the back of his neck. He pulls his finger away to see a bit of blood on it.
"Bite me," Daniel challenges. There is a hurt sort of tone in his voice, but there is also worry.
"Ow," Xanthous mumbles as he cleans his wounds. He is thankful that they aren't that serious, but they still hurt. "I mean, if you're sure," he says to Daniel.
"Why wouldn't I be sure? It's not like my best friend is temporarily closing his café for, like, 2 weeks and he's muttering 'ow' as he's clearly cleaning his injuries. Oh, wait-"
"Yeah, yeah, I get the point." Xanthous rolls his eyes. The conversation fades to silence, and he listens to the sound of breathing from him and Daniel. He grabs his phone and sits on his bathroom floor, gathering his thoughts.
"So I was hiding behind the counter, right," he begins.
"Okay."
"And the guy shoots the gun."
"Mhm."
"And then the door slams open and these four kids-I'm pretty sure they had powers; one of them was on fire, one could conduct electricity, and another had hair that I'm pretty sure was alive-come in and defeat the guy. Like, no scratches or anything."
Xanthous can practically see Daniel raise his eyebrows. "Bro, that's impossible." A beat of silence. "You've been sleeping well, right?"
"I'm like 95% sure it wasn't a hallucination," Xanthous says defensively. "There were burn marks on my floor, Daniel! How would that have happened?"
"I don't know!"
Xanthous inhales and exhales deeply to calm himself. Daniel is angry because he is worried. And he is worried. Why wouldn't he be? His best friend of so many years could have died today.
Xanthous would never have had the chance to say goodbye.
"Sorry for exploding like that," Xanthous says, in a softer tone. "It's just been a long night, y'know? I might not have made it."
There is silence on the other end of the call.
Xanthous waits a moment. Two. Three.
"Hello-?"
"Sorry, sorry." Daniel's voice cuts out again. Xanthous is not sure if he had said anything else. (He doesn't have good Wifi. He might need to consider getting a better one.) "I just-Things needed to sink in for a moment."
Xanthous nods, despite knowing that his friend wouldn't see it, and hums in agreement.
"I'm just glad you're okay."
"Mmm."
". . . ."
There is no more anger in their words. Only the relief seeping through. It makes Xanthous feel even worse about the situation
". . . I suppose this would be a bad time to mention that I invited them back to my café?"
"Full offense, dude, but what the fuck-"
