Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High.

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Title: Partner in crime

Word count: 3,716

Read on, oh faithful ones...

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Warren had become a villain a year after graduating from Sky High - the very same day Will announced his intention to join his parents and be part of the Stronghold Three. Some things were simply inevitable; Warren's descent into evil and Will's ascent into light were two of those inevitable things, and their fate would never change.

Over the past year, Warren found that he was so very good at being bad, and relished the idea and feeling of getting exactly what he wanted. He'd finally lived up to everyone's expectations of him, and Warren fucking loved it.

He had to fight the Stronghold Three whenever they tried to stop his latest scheme, and so far, he was winning against them. Warren knew that Will was pissed off about that more than anything else, because Airborne himself had stopped by his apartment a month ago. Will had thought that by berating him about his latest scheme while he was out of uniform would stop Warren from hurting him. (He'd kidnapped the Mayor, so fucking what? It's not like he reallyhurt him, he just left a few scorch marks to make sure he got all of the money he'd demanded.) Will had pleaded and begged him to come to the side of good again, to work with him instead of against him, and to put all of this foolishness behind them. Warren had laughed in his face and thrown a ball of fire directly at the naive idiot so he knew he was serious and wasn't above hurting him, no matter what he was wearing, before slamming the door in his face.

Warren moved out of his apartment that day and moved into this two-storey house. He didn't bother telling anyone where he'd gone. There was no point; he was never going to be a hero, not now, not ever, and nothing they would say could convince him otherwise. He'd had a whole month of solitude, but Warren should have known that it couldn't last.

He came home one afternoon to find Layla sitting on his front steps, waiting for him patiently. Warren glared at her, stepped half around, half over her to get to his front door. She stood and followed him inside without waiting for an invitation, both of them knowing he wouldn't have offered one anyway. Warren went straight for the kitchen and grabbed two beers. She took the bottle but didn't open it, just as he'd expected. He rolled his eyes, took off the lid of his own beer and took a swig.

"How'd you find me, hippie?" he asked, glaring briefly and wondering who he had to kill for betraying his location.

"You brought my plants when you moved out; I know where all of my plants are," she said with a brief shrug.

Warren raised an eyebrow at that little tidbit, making a mental note to destroy the plants later. "So what're you doing here, then? You've come to tell me the error of my ways too?" he asked, somewhere between a sigh and a sneer.

"No, I haven't come to do that," Layla said, shaking her head. "I came here because I want to join you."

His bottle, half raised to his lips, was lowered immediately, and Warren just stared at her. There was a fierce determination in her eyes that he could see as plain as day, and for a moment, he actually believed her. Then he came to his senses; this was Layla, after all. She was probably doing some weird-ass reverse psychology thing on him because Will had asked her to. She would've agreed, even though they'd stopped dating a few months after they began dating in Sky High - they'd agreed to be friends, and somehow, had actually managed to do exactly that. What kind of people dated each other, kissed each other, and then went right back to being friends?! But onto more important matters: hippie saying she wanted to join him.

"What the fuck, hippie? Why the ever-loving fuck would you want to join me for?" he asked, not quite so believing, but still just as stunned.

"The system doesn't work, it's not designed to work, and even worse, no one seems to care. So if no one cares, then I'm not going to waste my time trying anymore. I'm sick of working for nothing and getting nowhere. I didn't eat for a whole fucking week last month because I had no income and still had rent to pay. I can't survive as a hero, not anymore."

Warren stayed silent, still trying to process the fact that Little-Miss-Do-Good herself wanted to join him (not to mention the fact that she'd actually sworn surprised him too; over the past six years, he'd probably heard her swear twice, and even then it was an 'oh gee golly gosh darn' type of swearing that made him want to rip his own fucking teeth out). He raised his beer to his lips again and drank, never looking away from her as he downed the rest of the bottle in one shot.

"So that's it, you want to join me just so you can eat? If that's the only reason, then go get a fucking job or apply for government handouts, hippie. I'm not burdening myself with someone who won't even fight in the first place."

She laughed, a hollow laugh that surprised him all over again, and shook her head at him. "You haven't been watching the news lately, have you?"

"Not really; I'm not overly fond of the way the media's been portraying me," Warren said with a sneer.

"Understandable... Fine, tomorrow night, watch the 6 o'clock news and then tell me if I'm still not worthy of joining you," Layla said, standing and leaving abruptly.

Warren frowned after her, belatedly realising that she'd taken the bottle of beer with her.

...

The next morning, Warren went out early to get his newspaper (or rather, steal his neighbour's paper - it was the guy's own fault for not getting up earlier to get it himself, really). Sitting on his front steps was an empty beer bottle and he grinned slightly at the sight, kicking it across the yard so it rolled onto his neighbour's side of the driveway. With stolen newspaper in hand, Warren went back inside to read it over with a very strong cup of coffee in hand (he still wasn't sure if waking up early to steal the paper was worth it; he'd decide after reading it, if there was even anything about the hippie in there).

He skipped over the article that mentioned him - the War-maker strikes again; steals seven thousand dollars from local bank and leaves in a fiery blaze! (It was surprisingly difficult to think of a villainous name on the spot, and he'd almost said his actual name, which is howWar-maker came about. It was still better than Hothead, that's for sure.) Skimming over the pages, his fingers staining black with the ink in a matter of seconds, Warren tried to find any mention of Layla or Flora (apparently it was hard to think of hero names on the spot too) in the articles. Warren read the paper front to back three times before coming to the conclusion that she was lying. There was no way the hippie had done - or ever would do - anything that would make him agree to let her join him. She was just too nice and way too vanilla; she'd never have the guts to do anything more than string people up with her vines (and that's probably only after they attacked her).

Yet, as six o'clock chimed in, Warren still found himself turning on the TV and switching over to the news channel. The Channel Five presenter, Brian Anderson, was missing his usual award-winning smile as he announced the headline news: every single plant in the Botanical Gardens had come alive, wrapped themselves around the people inside, and then withered moments later. The plants had died far too soon for anyone to really react, but the most interesting part was that the dying plants had actually killed the people they had ensnared as well, as if the plants had sucked the life out of them one by one in the same instant. Over seventy people were estimated to be dead. But that wasn't the end of it. Across town, at exactly the same time as the Botanical Gardens deaths, a rose bush had grown exponentially until it encompassed an entire street of suburban houses. It was the same street where the famous realty sellers from Stronghold Realty lived (who insisted that they weren't related to the Stronghold Three at all, no matter if they looked similar or had a similar name, really), and as the rose bush had cut off all sources of electricity and was somehow blocking the satellite connection for cellular devices, there was no way of knowing whether there were any survivors. The local fire department were still attempting to bring down the overgrown rose bush to rescue people from their own homes, but were already stretched thin by the events at the Botanical Gardens. The Stronghold Three had yet to respond to the Mayor's call for justice for the deaths that had occurred at the Botanical Gardens.

Warren sat back on his armchair in a state of shock. "Well, fuck me."

"I hope that means I can join you. Help me lie down before I collapse, would you? I haven't had to use that much power for a while," Layla muttered from his lounge room doorway.

"How'd you get in here?" he asked suspiciously, even as he rose to help her to the couch.

"My vines are very useful at opening locked doors. Nearly all doors have a space beneath them for ventilation or whatever, and it's just enough room for me to get in wherever I like," Layla said, grinning, albeit a little weakly.

"You probably wiped yourself out by using all of that power, y'know, hippie."

"If you're letting me join you, then it was worth it. Besides, how many supers - hero or villain - can say they bested the Stronghold Three? Pretty sure I got Magenta stuck in there with them and Mrs. Stronghold's allergic to vermin," she said with a snicker, lying down on his three-seater couch.

"I don't even want to know how you know that, hippie. Lie down and go to sleep. If you're back at full strength in the morning, then we'll talk."

"What if I'm not?" she asked sleepily.

"Then you're no use to me, getting wiped out like that so easily," Warren said; there was no point sugar-coating it, not when his reputation as a villain was at stake.

Layla yawned widely, nodded, and closed her eyes to sleep. Warren watched her for a moment, still thinking about the news that had aired on TV. Grabbing his jacket and keys, Warren left his house to go to the Botanical Gardens and see what had happened for himself. It wasn't that he didn't trust the media... Actually, yes, it was. He wouldn't trust those media-hunting bastards as far as he could throw them. They turned every molehill into a mountain just to ensure they got their ratings, and the news they'd showed might be nothing more than a couple of plants rising out of the dirt and causing a few scratches to some careless citizens.

Red and blue lights flashed in the distance, and as he arrived at the Gardens, Warren saw the multitudes of ambulances, police vehicles, and fire trucks surrounding the small entrance. He headed straight over to the fire truck like he was meant to be there. Two men were already at the truck, one of them his height and build. Warren knocked both of them out (one with a fist, the other with a fireball), and put on the firefighter's suit before dragging both men into the front of the truck. Putting a helmet onto his head, Warren bypassed the tape and police officers at the entrance without being stopped, and he headed straight into the Gardens.

For once, the news had actually downplayed a tragic event. The few pictures that had been aired on the evening news couldn't quite capture the desolation that enveloped the Gardens. People were still wrapped in the plants that had killed them, the dead plants withered and black around their lifeless bodies. The trees and plants that didn't hold victims hadn't suffered quite so badly, and there were even a few roses still in bloom (despite it being the middle of the night), their very presence making the whole scene more than slightly fucked up.

Behind the helmet's visor, Warren grinned broadly. He absolutely loved what Layla had done. If she made it through to the morning with full strength, then there was no doubt of her joining with him, and to be honest, Warren couldn't wait to see what they could do together. He discreetly let out a burst of power, and as he walked away from the Gardens, the entire place began to burn behind him.

...

Layla stood in Warren's kitchen, sipping at her coffee quietly in the early hours of the morning. A fireman's outfit was sitting in a heap by the table, a helmet hanging from a chair precariously. She'd woken up before 5am, feeling better than she had in years. Warren was still asleep, and from the snores she could hear coming from the other end of the house, she doubted he'd be getting up anytime soon. She didn't mind; it had been too long since she'd had this sort of peace and quiet. Setting the coffee cup down, Layla went outside to see Warren's garden.

The patch of grass wasn't much, but she hadn't expected a lot anyway. There was a strip of concrete separating the grass and house, which is where all of Layla's plants were sitting. Every single plant she'd gifted over the years for birthdays, Christmas, and even Easter (it was a cocoa plant, it sort of fit the theme) was sitting on that concrete strip. She knew that he'd kept them while he was in his old apartment, but Layla was still truly surprised that Warren still had the plants after coming here. She brushed her fingertips against a few of the flowers gently, a grin spreading across her face as she recognised her power within the plants themselves. She coaxed them awake, and they followed easily, despite the early hour. Layla laughed softly as she made the plants climb higher and wider until they encompassed the entire garden and were making their way over the fence into the neighbour's yard. Spying a newspaper on the ground, Layla used one of the plants to throw it towards her over the fence. It flew wider than she expected, and she turned quickly on hearing it being caught rather than hitting the house.

"I assume you're at full strength then?" Warren asked with a smirk, sipping at the coffee - her coffee, thank you very much! - and going back inside.

Layla made the plants retreat abruptly and followed him, taking her mug from him with a glare. "Get your own damn coffee."

"Technically, it is my coffee. I bought it."

"I made it," she argued.

"Whatever, hippie," he said with a shrug, turning to get another mug out of his cupboard.

"So why are you up? I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Not unless you were making cat screeching noises right by my window on the other side of the house," Warren muttered.

Layla snickered at the thought of a cat getting the better of Warren Peace, and quickly turned her attention to the newspaper when he glared at her over his shoulder.

"What the fuck?" she muttered, setting her mug down to look at the paper properly.

"What?" Warren asked, coming to stand beside her with his coffee in hand.

The front page featured the Stronghold Three, who had saved the residents of a plant-covered street (there was a picture of them smiling and posing with a grateful family, Jetstream looking a little puffy as if she was waiting for certain allergies to lessen, and what could have been a stomach-swollen guinea pig in the background). Layla's actions at the Botanical Gardens weren't mentioned until the fifth page, and there was a single sentence about the fire that had occurred later that night. The paper was shredded in her hands in a matter of seconds.

"I bet if I killed the Stronghold Three, the paper wouldn't mention a damn thing about me. Oh, that's frustrating!"

Warren snorted in amusement. "Tell me about it; the first heist I did resulted in a single article ten pages in. It stated that the bank had lost the money, as if they'd misplaced it or something. Idiots."

Layla glared at the paper again, wishing she could burn the damn thing to a pile of ashes. It burst into flame immediately, and for a second, she actually thought her wish had come true. Then she remembered that Warren was right there; of course it was him.

"So, have you given it any more thought? Me joining with you, that is," she added quickly.

"Yes."

Layla waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't say anything and she frowned. "And?"

"I just gave you my answer, hippie. Pay attention."

"Wait, yes, yes?! You mean it?"

"Ugh, not if you're going to act all... perky like that. Stop it," Warren muttered, stepping back away from her.

"Oh, fuck off. I'm allowed to be perky if I want to be."

He just chuckled and finished the rest of his coffee in a quick gulp. "Come on, hippie, finish your coffee and we'll go see what you can do."

Layla emptied her mug in a matter of seconds. Warren hid a grin at her enthusiasm and led her to his sanctum to start their training.

...

Will slipped out of bed, Magenta curling up against a spare pillow in his absence, and padded over to his window quietly. Somewhere out there, Warren and Layla were wreaking havoc and causing complete chaos. Layla had disappeared almost five months ago and up until last week, no one had heard a thing from her. Will had assumed she'd left the state, and some part of him still wished that she'd done exactly that. Anything but join with Warren.

There was no way he could stop them; he couldn't fight them, they were his friends, no matter what they'd done or would do. He couldn't bring himself to hurt them, even though he knew they wouldn't hesitate to hurt him. (He picked at one of the bandages around his arm that had been caused by one of Layla's poisonous vines; oh yes, he knew all too well that they wouldn't hesitate.)

His parents had tried to talk to him, telling him that Layla and Warren were villains now. They'd chosen their side, they'd hurt and killed people. He had no choice but to stop them. Will knew that, he'd told himself it over and over since he'd seen them fighting side by side. There was still a stabbing guilt in his chest because he knew exactly what had driven them to be evil. It was his fault, all of it.

Warren had asked him - actually said the words out loud, and even said please - if he would join him on the side of good instead of joining with his parents. Warren was known to be a good guy (semi-good if you didn't get on his bad side) at Sky High, but that meant nothing on the ground; it was a reputation he had at high school and it meant fuck all in the real world. Warren wouldn't get anywhere as a hero without Will by his side. Will said no, even though he desperately wanted to join his best friend. But his parents - and the public - were expecting him to join the Stronghold Three, and he couldn't disappoint them. The very next day, Will announced his intention to join his parents as part of the Stronghold Three, naming himself Airborne. He'd seen Warren at the back of the gym during his graduation, but at his announcement, his friend had turned and left without looking back.

Layla, oh god, what he'd done to her was even worse. He had picked her as his sidekick, the fourth of the Stronghold Three (even without the prestigious surname), and they'd worked together so well. She knew all of his strengths and complemented all of his weaknesses. Layla had even become invaluable to his parents, helping them when they didn't even know they needed help. She became so much to all of them, but he'd treated her like a sidekick, meagre pay included. She'd been his best friend since they were in kindergarten, and he'd demeaned her at every turn, treated her like she was less than he was. He'd become the worst of his father without even realising it. Then, when Layla had told him what he was doing - she'd even asked him, pleaded with him to stop - he'd laughed at her, said she was just jealous, and had asked Magenta to be his sidekick the very next hour.

He'd turned Warren into a villain, then driven Layla away and straight into Warren's arms. It was all his fault, and Will couldn't bring himself to fight them when he'd created what they'd become. Will turned his back on the window, running his hand through his hair. He sighed heavily and returned to his bed and Magenta's warm embrace.

In the street below, two people stepped out into the light of a streetlamp. Layla pressed a fierce kiss to Warren's lips and he flicked his tongue out briefly to taste her. As they kissed, two vines snaked their way towards the Stronghold's house, and Warren's hands lit up brilliantly. The two vines had large leaves that hid the fire's light; and shadows played on their faces as they pulled away. Layla grinned at Warren wickedly, the grin returned immediately, and then they turned to advance on the Stronghold Three's home.

...

The end.

Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it!