AN: Sky High is Disney's, the character's are the writer's, the original's are mine and everything else belongs to Samuel L. Jackson. Or at least, I think it should.

Sudden Death Drills

The final bell rang and dozens of Sky High seniors milled about Coach Boomer's ref chair buzzing as they caught one another up on who did what and with whom over the summer. As usual, Warren Peace sat by himself on the bleachers, his stringy black hair falling in front of his downcast eyes. The rest of the seniors, however, milled and talked and waited, occasionally tugging at their stripped knee socks.

A sharp whistle snapped everyone out of the summer and into the approaching school year- the last of their high school career. Boomer climbed up onto his perch and straddled the edge, his thick legs, thicker socks and frighteningly tight shorts looming above the students in all of his gym teacher glory.

"Alright, listen up," He boomed, his normal voice thundering through the gym, making even Warren cringe. "This is senior year. No more babying. After this year you'll be saving the world, and to do that, you'll need to be in super physical condition. I hope all of you trained this summer because," He paused for a moment and his smile narrowed in a way that meant something sadistic was on it's way. Then, with enough sonic boom to make the floorboards tremble and get his point across he bellowed, "Sudden Death Drills!" and punctuated it with a whistle blow.

Everyone moaned but moved quickly, Boomer's echo replaced with thudding trainers and squeaky sneakers. Students quickly paired off, hero vs. hero, sidekick vs. sidekick. Warren, true to form, stalked slowly out onto the court, peering menacingly from behind his fringe. Soon the court was filled with pairs, all nervously shuffling from one foot to another or tugging at a loose sting on their gym shorts. Boomer's Sudden Death Drills were famous, mostly for sending kids to the nurses office with broken bones and bleeding noses.

"Now, the purpose of these drills is to test your combat skills," Boomer continued, now on the court boards and wandering through the nerve-stricken couples. "You will attack your partner as though your grade depended on it, which it does. The goal is to neutralize your opponent. Powers are allowed, but remember, being able to fly or whatever wont save you from a sucker punch. Hothead, where's your partner?"

Boomer made his way to Warren who was standing by himself, the other couples having cleared a four foot radius to give the outcast some space. Boomer looked through the class, his eyes narrowed in annoyance, then he stopped and whistled through his fingers waving someone over from the benches. Warren glanced up from behind his scowl and inwardly sighed. Margaret Allen was making her way through the pairs, her messy braids bouncing along with her unsteady gait. She'd been a sidekick since the first day of school when she confessed that her powers hadn't manifested quiet yet. Warren, being on the hero tract, hadn't seen her since except for the odd encounter in the lunch room. She was the only person, other than himself, who ate alone, but her solitude wasn't by choice. On the social ladder she was lower than the freshmen sidekicks and was a favorite "toy" of Lash and Dash's before Stronghold had shown up. She shuffled to a halt before Warren, her concaved shoulders rounding a bit more in fear. Even though he had helped to save Sky High the night of homecoming, Warren's reputation was still that of a dangerous young man. It was whispered that he would most likely be the greatest villain ever to graduate from the floating school and that Stronghold would be his archenemy, regardless of their psuedo- friendly demeanor on school grounds.

"Fine, now on my signal, begin. One…"

Each and every student lowered themselves, leaning over a bit and throwing their hands out in front in a how of combative pretense. Every single one of the them was shaking.

"Two…"

Except for Warren. He straightened up and tossed his head back, pulling his hair up into a ponytail behind him. He took a deep breath and watch Margaret calmly, his face emotionless and surprisingly none threatening. Margaret, on the other hand, could barely keep her heart in her chest and the vomit down her throat. She wanted to pass out, she needed to pass out. She'd been in the cafeteria the day Stronghold's powers had hit him. Warren's fire attack was nothing to sneeze at, not to mention his incessancy at vanquishing a foe. Even though there was no animosity between them, Margaret doubted he even knew her name, she knew that was a zero, and that zero were eliminated by heroes, the end. It was his job to be better than her, stronger than her, faster than her-

Boomer's whistle blew.

Immediately students started circling each other, a la' wrestling, every now and then taking a swipe at their opposites head or thighs. Warren, however, wasted no time. Quickly, smoothly, he went in. A quickly kick to the back of her legs sent her to her knees with a painful thud. Margaret winced and bent over to feel for shattered cartilage when a punch came right up her nose. She let out a muffled cry as she flew backwards, hitting another attackee who, angrily, lightly kicked her in the side back towards Warren and went to deal with his own onslaught. All about the gym, students were flying, tumbling, grappling and yelling at each other. Boomer was weaving in between them all, clipboard in hand making notes and yelling out directions. Margaret's nose was throbbing under the pressure of her thumb and forefinger's pinch. She could taste blood trickling down onto her top lip and her entire sinus cavity was in pain. She pulled her hand away and her palm was covered in blood. She felt the chunks start to rise and jerked onto her knees, hoping she could make a mad dash to the bathroom and escape the humiliation of yakking in front of her entire class. She soon realized that she would not be able to escape from Warren. His fists were clenched by his sides and she looked up in time to see them ignite, flames engulfing his arms up to the elbow. Margaret's nausea quickly disappeared and was replaced by her heart once more trying to escape. He was getting closer and closer. Margaret could make out a sneer on his face which was blurred in the rush of the heat.

Margaret was going to die. She could feel it. Warren was closing in, she could feel the heat from his arms prickling at her eyes, making them tear, and the ends of her braids were starting to smoke and singe. Warren was right on top of her, his arm raised and a softball sized flame coiling in his open palm. He held it like a rotten orange and quickly brought it down towards her waiting, unprotected head. Margaret quickly curled into a ball, her arms over her head. She was crying, large hot tears easily flowing down her cheeks. She seriously hadn't expected to die her first day back. Her body shuddered as she loudly sobbed and did what anyone else might do.

"No!"

The sound that came from her seemed to last for a long time. It was a choked sound, mixed with a half expressed sob and still so many tears. When the sound finally died, she realized that there was an uncanny silence in around her, like she had cotton stuck in her ears. She wondered briefly if she was dead and if this was what the afterlife felt like. She slowly lowered her arms, aching and stiff from her late attack and looked up. She was still in the gym- damn- but everyone around her wasn't moving. All of their feet were still and pointed towards her. She looked up even further and saw Warren's hand, still aflame, poised directly over her scalp. She yelped and backpedaled, knocking into the same student she had before, who didn't move but stared down at her with wide eyes.

"Allen, what the heck did you do?" Droned Boomer sounding more annoyed than anything else. Margaret joined the rest of the class in staring, dumbfounded at a stunned Warren who seemed to be frozen. His arm hovered in space just where her head had been, his forearms still burning, an angry yell frozen on his face. Slowly Margaret managed to stand, her jaw wide and her hand back on her still bleeding nose. She walked towards him carefully, the other students and Boomer keeping an easy distance from the pair. She reached out with her free hand and poked at him. She quickly pulled her hand back, the flames burning her wrist which quickly turned red and started to rash. She moved behind him and gave his ponytail a safe push. Nothing, no swaying, no movement at all. It was like touching a stone, though Margaret thought that stones couldn't possibly have such soft hair-

Warren's flames spurted a bit and then his whole body lurched forward, continuing the move he had been prepping for. The fireball landed on the space of court that Margaret had been crouched upon and hit with a sparking burst, causing a few students near to back away with gasps and shrieks and the floorboards to splinter and smolder. Warren stumbled a few steps and looked back at the smoking crater obviously confused. He looked up and saw Margaret, blood covering half of her face and tears streaking through the red, causing it to mix and trail down her neck, staining her gym shirt. He paused for a moment and Margaret saw his face soften for just an instant. Then it hardened with resolve once more and he lit up another fireball. Margaret's eyes' widened and she took a step back, her arms flying out in front of her as though to ward him off.

"No!" She cried, quickly this time, more of an exasperated yelp than before. Warren shuddered and stopped in his tracks for a moment, as though someone had paused him for just a second, then he reanimated and slowed to a stop, a slightly confused and partly intrigued look on his face. He stood there, staring at Margaret for a moment, the fireball still in his hands when the bell rang. The class paused for a moment as if not quite sure what to do, then cautiously shuffled off to the locker rooms. Warren and Margaret stood there, her arms still outstretched and him still eying her warily. Boomer snapped them both back to reality.

"Showers, both of you. Allen, get cleaned up and go to the nurse. Then I want to see the two of you in Principle Powers office, GO!" He boomed, making the teens' hair ruffle in the aftershock. Margaret lowered her arms and her eyes and awkwardly shuffled off towards the girls showers. Warren watched her for a moment more then pulled his hair down and shook it in front of his face, his usual sourness returning under the safety of his hair.