A/N: Better late than never, eh?
Chapter 8
"Where could he be?"
Lila Fowler's anxious voice broke the tense moment, as Jessica Wakefield gazed at the gymnasium entrance from behind the school library building. She turned to look at her friend. "I don't know, Lila," she sighed. "We've been waiting for, like, about an hour now, and he still hasn't shown up."
"Do you think that we should go back in and – "
"No." Jessica's eyes narrowed. "No. We'll wait here for some more time. He has to come out some time. Besides, Lila, these things take a bit of patience."
Lila scowled. "Well, at least you seem to know what you're doing."
Jessica smirked. "Of course. It's so obvious. I found what was going on with you, and I'd figured that you'd need some expert advice." She took on a smug air. "That is, advice from me."
Lila rolled her eyes, but didn't proceed to dispute her friend's statement. "Still beats me how you found out."
Her best friend's eyes twinkled. "Oh, I have my ways," Jessica said nonchalantly, before returning her gaze back to the gymnasium entrance. There was, however, a growing feeling of uneasiness in the pit of her stomach, though she was doing quite a good job of hiding it from Lila.
What is it that's wrong? She wondered. Am I doing the right thing here? Or could it be that I'm rushing things?
She looked back at Lila, who was staring unblinkingly at the gym building, and sighed to her herself, wishing that she had consulted her more sensible sister, before taking the matter into her own hands. It was not the first time she had felt this way, but this time…
I have a feeling I'm in way over my head…
"Surprised?"
Bruce Patman stepped closer and closer, the red ball of energy between his hands intensifying and growing larger with every step. "You didn't expect it to be me, did you, Wakefield?" A smug smirk grew on his face. "No, I don't think you'd have suspected me in a million years." He was obviously very pleased with himself. "It is a most delightful strategy – surprising the enemy, hmmm?"
Steven took another involuntary step back. "Enemies?" he echoed. "Are we, really, Bruce? I mean, we don't have to be – listen, if it's the trip up in the game that's gotten you so worked up, then I swear that I'll talk the guys out of teasing you about it; I'm sure they'll listen to me…" Steven knew he was rambling mindlessly, but he needed the time to gather his wits. "And also, maybe I could…"
"Silence!" Bruce cried, thrusting his arms forward. The red energy between them suddenly came to life, sparking and levitating into the air, before rushing at Steven with all the speed and force of a cannon ball, leaving a red, comet-like trail in its wake.
There was nothing that Steven could do about it.
The ball of energy hit him in the chest with the force of a truck, slamming him against the gym wall, and knocking all the wind out of him. The energy dissipated, and Steven fell to the floor, gasping. Bruce stepped even closer, smiling again. "Well, how did you like that, Steven? Have a taste of your own Mother's medicine as you suffer a pathetic death…"
"Idiot," Steven whispered, struggling to his feet, and running his hand gently over his ribs. Nothing seemed to be cracked or broken, but it sure did hurt like hell. "I felt the energy you threw at me – not just physically, but also in a deeper way. There was a darkness in it that I'm sure my Mother would never have been capable of."
Bruce scowled fiercely. "You have not the authority to speak of the Energy Field, let alone the purity of that generated by your mother, novice! You shall succumb to your morbid destiny now, without further ado!"
Steven blinked. With Bruce speaking like that, Steven was now sure that Bruce was not himself. The real Bruce Patman probably had no idea what he was doing, but all the damage brought upon by the Raydevil personality within Bruce would affect the real Bruce as well, and it was very much possible that the real Bruce had to face the consequences of his alter-personality's actions on his own, without even knowing how or why it had happened.
It was just so unfair.
Steven frowned, trying to check the white-hot anger that was climbing up his veins. He needed to think straight right then – had to devise a way by which he could defeat the Raydevil while not inflicting much damage on Bruce himself. That energy which Bruce had thrown at him, he knew, had just been a warm-up, even though it had almost crushed his chest. More than afraid of what Bruce might be able to do to him, Steven was afraid what he might able to do to Bruce.
He came back to the present in time to see another ball of energy forming between Bruce's palms. "You'd better be ready," he growled, taking his arms to a position from where he could throw a direct, powerful blow onto Steven. He thrust his arms forward.
"Oh, I'm ready," Steven said through gritted teeth, jumping away from the energy in a half-somersault, half-tumble. Rising once again to his feet, and noting the enormous dent in the gym wall, Steven's jaw dropped. "You really mean business, don't you?"
"It took you this long to realise that?" Bruce was already with another attack, and it took Steven another display of gymnastics to avoid it. "You can't keep running, you know," Bruce shouted, aiming yet another attack at Steven. The latter knew he was right, of course, running wasn't going to get him anywhere; there had to be another way…
Wood… the bleachers are made of wood… trees! Placing one hand on the bleachers behind him, he concentrated, trying to ignore the fact that Bruce was charging at him just then. He reached beyond the chemicals – all the varnishes and paint – and touched the deepest pits of the dead cells in the wood, finding an abundance of the Energy Field where once the cell had been filled with life-giving cytoplasm. He remembered Kal's words during their training:
"Don't even think about the fact that there is an Energy Field there, or that there is anything there at all; instead, think that you are the water, that you exist as the water, and that the water exists as you. And there, Steven, you will find all the power that you need…"
It had sounded more like dialogue from a boring sci-fi supernatural novel then, but Steven realised the significance of the words just then. He was the wood, and the wood was Steven, and they would face up to Bruce's attacks.
A blue glow enveloped the portion of bleachers behind Steven, and tore away, the wooden planks forming a rather clumsy shield in front of Steven that nevertheless took the brunt of Bruce's next throw. Shattered to pieces by the energy, the pieces scattered to all corners of the gym. Steven finally opened his eyes and gave a low whistle at the sight of the destruction. "That was… interesting."
For some reason, this remark seemed to infuriate Bruce even more. "Think you're so clever, do you? A clumsy display of power if I've ever seen one…"
Steven smiled placidly. "Well, you don't sound too sure of that statement yourself."
"Shut up!" Bruce raised his hands, the gesture followed by an ominous creaking sound right above Steven. The seventeen-year-old gulped, looking up. "Please, I hope you're not doing what I think you're doing…" But it was too late. The heavy rafters above Steven gave one last piercing creak, before they tumbled down.
And all he could do was watch, and pray that his death was a quick one.
Steven.
Elizabeth Wakefield stopped in her tracks, her stopping accompanied by a sharp intake of breath. Amy Sutton and Danielle Waters, realising that their friend suddenly wasn't with them anymore, backtracked a few steps on the sidewalk to join Elizabeth.
"Hey, what's wrong, Liz?" Amy asked, concerned.
Elizabeth opened her mouth, but no sound seemed able to escape her lips. Nausea swirled in the pit of her stomach, and perspiration pricked at her brow. She didn't know why she was feeling like this – she had no reason to feel such foreboding, after all. It was supposed to be a moment of complete euphoria – her school had just won the championships after quite a long time, and her big brother had been the driving force behind the victory…
Big brother.
The feeling washed over her all over again. Groaning, she leaned against the compound wall behind her, closing her eyes. Steven was in a very dangerous situation – but what?
Amy and Danielle were more than just concerned now. "Are you feeling ill or something, Liz?" Danielle asked. "Because if you are, maybe we should cancel that trip to Casey's…"
Elizabeth opened her eyes abruptly. "No," she said. "You two go ahead; I'll catch up…"
"But –"
"Listen." Elizabeth looked Amy in the eye. "Nothing's wrong with me. I just happened to remember that I left my notes back at the gym, that's all. You two go on ahead; I'll run back to the gym, get my notes and catch up later."
With that, she turned around, and was soon out of sight.
Amy blinked. "Wow. What's wrong with her? I've never known Liz to forget her precious notes before."
Danielle narrowed her eyes. "That's right. But this time, she didn't make any."
Amy cast a sharp glance at her. "You mean to say that…?"
Her friend nodded, and Amy set her lips in a determined line.
"Let's go after her, then!"
Stop!
Putting his arms over his head, Steven went down on his knees, trying to concentrate, not on the rafters falling above him – he had no time for that – but on himself. Gathering the Energy Field that was flowing through and around him, he surrounded himself with it, to act as a shield. A flickering blue glow soon emanated from him.
The rafters fell on and around him with resounding thuds, crushing the bleachers behind him with their tremendous weight. Steven winced each time one fell on him, but thankfully, his 'shield' seemed to be working. Opening his eyes once the rafters stopped falling, he rose to his feet. "I hope you realise that I'm not that easy to get rid of."
He had the pleasure of seeing something akin to surprised admiration in Bruce's eyes, before the Raydevil in him snarled, "That was nothing; I'll get you this time."
"I'm afraid not," Steven said through gritted teeth, and brought his own arms forward, between which there was a ball of blue energy sparking. Steven took some time to compose himself, hoping that the display of the energy would intimidate Bruce for a while. He had no idea how or when he did it, but that didn't matter now. He immersed himself in the Energy Field flowing around him, forgetting all logic, and that nagging feeling that the whole situation felt like a rather unimaginatively written science fiction novel.
He could feel Bruce getting ready to counter Steven's attack as well, after which everything fell silent. So silent, in fact, that Steven could practically hear the beads of perspiration skipping over the miniscule pores of his skin on their way down his face. It was as if the very room they were standing in was taking a long, deep, deep breath before the plunge.
But plunge into what, exactly? Steven had no idea what he could do with his power. Kal hadn't come to that part of the lesson yet… or maybe the firsk's intention from the beginning was to let Steven find out for himself. Would he ever know Kal's true intentions? Did he even need to know?
He didn't think so.
Opening his eyes, he thrust his arms forward, releasing that pent-up energy that he had been building around himself. He had expected rather violent consequences on his body, but all he felt was a cool, exhilarating freshness – much like that experienced when jumping into a pool of deliciously cold water. At the same time, Bruce imitated his action, and the two balls of energy collided in mid-air, releasing a tremendous amount of aftershocks that sent Bruce and Steven flying. Steven smashed into the bleachers and everything went black for a while.
Soon, however, consciousness returned to him, and he picked himself up slowly, testing his body. It was a bundle of bruises, but nothing seemed to be broken, thankfully. He looked across the gym to where Bruce was lying on the wooden floor, seemingly out cold.
Almost tentatively – partly due to caution and partly due to his aching body – Steven made his way to the fallen fifteen year old. He kneeled next to him, gently touching the boy's shoulder. "Bruce?" he whispered. "Bruce, you okay?"
Bruce did not stir at Steven's touch, and the latter grew worried. Moving his shaking fingers to Bruce's neck, he tried to feel for a pulse. He was so… so… cold, and… so still…
Please, let him not be dead…
