Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High.
Title: Save the bees
Read on, oh faithful ones...
...
Josie and Steve were used to receiving gifts from well-meaning citizens. Usually, they went through the proper channels: the gift was sent to the Mayor, inspected by the Super Bureau to ensure it wasn't actually a villain's attempt at harming them, and then the gift would be presented to them the next time Jetstream and the Commander were on TV, so they could properly thank their fans. Sometimes, the citizens were smart enough to see through their alter egos' glasses and real estate guise, and they would be given things like priority seating or free tickets, which of course, they couldn't refuse. Once, at an expensive restaurant in Westville, a couple had left their meal halfway through just so Josie and Steve could be seated instead. (The couple had actually been forced to leave by the maître d', but that was neither here nor there.)
Still, it was rare for them to receive gifts at their actual home. Josie looked down at the cute yellow flower in a small tin bucket with a ribbon tied upon it, and then out to the street, wondering just who had left it for them. Usually citizens waited around for a photo or an autograph. Surreptitiously, she straightened out her clothes and fixed her hair, just in case the fans already had their phones and cameras pointed at the house.
"Morning Josie!" her neighbour called, far too bright and cheerful for a Monday morning. "Did you get one too? Oh, yours is yellow; that's so cute!"
"Too?" she echoed, looking from her neighbour to the rest of the houses along their street.
All of the houses that Josie could see had their own little flower sitting on their front steps, a little way back from the door so they wouldn't be knocked over.
"It's from a local charity, and don't worry about watering it: it's fake," her neighbour chattered on, oblivious to the fact that Josie had tuned her out completely.
Josie bent down to pick the small bucket up, seeing the card attached to the front of the bucket, clinging onto the ribbon precariously.
Save the bees! This plant's fake, but if you'd like to start your own garden, come to The Hive this weekend to receive a packet of free seeds and starter kit!
On the back of the card was an address and a small bee insignia.
Josie hadn't heard of The Hive before, and she decided to go that weekend just to make sure it wasn't a ruse of some sort.
...
The Hive belonged to none other than Layla Williams, Will's old childhood friend. It had been awkward striding into the business, only to be faced with Layla behind the counter, smiling and dressed in a black and yellow striped shirt. Layla and Will hadn't parted on the best of terms, and while Josie tried not to pry, she had never heard the full story herself.
Despite this, Layla brightened up when she saw Josie and talked to her just as rapidly as she had when she was still a freshman at Sky High, telling her all about the plight of the bees, the environment that suffered in consequence, and the wonderful plants she had grown to help encourage bees to return to the area. Her boyfriend was a beekeeper on site, and while his veiled hat was too dark to see through, he did lift a hand to wave at Josie when Layla called out to him.
Layla had apparently started her business in memory of her mother, who Josie belatedly remembered could talk to animals, and felt awkward all over again as she offered her condolences almost ten years too late.
The Hive was packed both inside and out and Josie soon found out why: Layla, her boyfriend, and their two employees had left hundreds of fake plants across Maxville, hoping to encourage people to visit so they could spread the word about the bees and hopefully get a few plants sold as well. The plants were going faster than the starter kits, and considering the price Josie had seen on a couple of the more ornate arrangements, that was definitely something.
Eventually, Layla had needed to attend to her business rather than stand around catering to her ex-boyfriend's mother, and Josie had picked up the seeds and starter kit that had been offered before wandering around to have a look at the business, as she had intended to do initially. She saw Layla's boyfriend out at the furthest beekeeping station, gently smoking out the bees' hive to keep them docile as he gathered the honey and wax.
The garden was amazing, filled with blooming flowers, scented shrubs, towering ferns and trees. It was like a small oasis paradise right on the outskirts of Maxville. Several benches were positioned beneath shady trees, already full with people admiring the garden as well. Josie made her way around the business, trying to be surreptitious about her snooping, while also trying to look for signs that this could be more than what Layla said it was.
"May I help you?" a woman asked, sounding surprised to see Josie there.
Seeing as Josie had walked straight into a fenced area with a sign stating 'employees only', she didn't wonder at the woman's surprise.
"Sorry, I think I got lost! I was just admiring the lovely plants," she said. "You work here?"
The woman looked from the employees sign to her uniform yellow and black shirt with the words 'The Hive' emblazoned on the torso. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I work here. Do you need an escort back to the garden, or can you find your own way?"
"Uh, I can find my way, thank you," Josie said, a little startled at the woman's hostile tone.
She turned and left slowly, pretending to admire the plants when she was really listening to what the woman might say when she was on her own.
"Been on my damn feet since five, and I know she saw that damn sign. Just want one damn minute to rest my feet in peace," the woman muttered, low and pained as she flexed her feet with a wince.
Feeling guilty, Josie left at a more normal pace now, closing the gate behind her before heading around to the front of the building to look at the store some more. Some people seemed to be very aggressive over the baskets of soaps and candles, so Josie made sure to get one for herself, floating off the ground just a tiny bit. There were free samples of lightly toasted Turkish bread and three kinds of honey, so who could resist trying that? And the lavender plants smelled divine, so obviously she needed those too. It was for charity and the bees, of course.
Josie walked out of The Hive with her seeds and starter kit, as well as two potted lavender plants, three jars of honey, and one ridiculously expensive basket with a beeswax candle, several soaps, and small tubs of salves and balms.
Both Steve and Will returned from their day out to find several plants sitting on the kitchen windowsill, three different kinds of honey in the pantry (who knew there was more than one kind of honey?!), and the bathroom door shut with soft jazz drifting out into the hallway. The latter meant that Josie was having a bath and didn't want to be disturbed; neither of the men had any idea what the first two meant, but they treated themselves to six slices of bread and honey before dinner, ensuring to clear away the evidence before Josie could find out.
...
"I can't believe you had to call me out here to stop people fighting over soap," Zach said, shaking his head as he took off his holster and put his gun and badge away.
"You'd fight over a bar of Layla's rosemary and honey soap if it was the last one, too," Ethan pointed out from where he was typing up that day's article about The Hive and the local charity's blooming success.
"Nah, I know Lay would make one for me specially," Zach replied with a grin.
"What I can't believe is that Jetstream didn't even notice that I wasn't holding a smoker," Warren said, rolling his eyes.
"I can't believe we made over two thousand dollars in one day," Wendy said, groaning as she put her aching feet in a tub of warm scented water. "If we keep that up, we can retire earlier than planned."
"Half of the proceeds go to charity, Wendy," Layla said, her voice hoarse as she entered the room with several bowls of soup held up in her hands and by her vines.
"Rest your throat, tomorrow's another business day," Craig said from where he was lying on the floor, having collapsed there earlier and now refusing to get up.
Adam nudged Craig with his foot, taking two of the offered bowls from Layla with thanks. "Get off your ass, Craig; you weren't even working today."
"Are you kidding me? I was running around in circles arguing with women over soap! That citizen could have killed me, y'know!"
Ethan finished his article, sent it off to Honey for final approval, then spun around in his chair to face everyone. "All right, the first day of business is now concluded. Training is postponed for the night, but we've got a busy day ahead tomorrow. Layla, how many of the initial plants were taken inside?"
"One hundred and fifty-eight. Thirteen outside. Twenty-nine discarded."
"Any of the critical houses outside or discarded?"
Layla shook her head. "Citizens only. Discarded ones have been reduced already."
"Good, that will save you some energy," Warren said, looking concerned about her croaking voice.
"It also lets us continue to phase two of Plan A," Ethan said with a firm nod.
"All right, go team!" Zach cheered. He looked over at Layla, who was looking as tired as the others felt. "Do you want something for your throat, Lay? I think there might be a jar of honey left; I can make you some tea," he offered.
"I'll get it," Warren said, already standing and heading to the kitchen; the last time Zach had tried to make coffee, he'd almost destroyed the oven, even though the kettle was nowhere near the oven.
The kitchen door had been blocked off and locked so that customers - whether citizens or supers - wouldn't go inside, thinking there was more for sale there. Thankfully, Warren's cookware had been spared, as had The Hive's staff area that led outside to a small secluded garden for the employees to relax during their lunch and break times, the same place where Wendy had met Jetstream.
Warren returned to the dining area with a warm mug of honey and lemon tea for Layla just as Craig was finishing his story. "After Jetstream left, I found four bugs."
"We're surrounded by a forest and gardens, of course there'll be bugs," Warren said, frowning.
Layla smiled and took the mug gratefully. "Listening bugs," she said, her voice almost gone completely.
"Oh. Did you check everywhere for them?" Warren asked Craig.
"Yep, even the roof and the gutters. I couldn't keep an eye on her the whole time, but Adam got security footage so we found them all."
"Where are they now?" Zach asked curiously.
Craig snickered before he answered. "Two are on the loudspeakers at the local sports field, one is inside the fire alarm warning system at the Mayor's office, and the fourth is inside the residence of none other than the Stronghold Three."
"No one saw you?" Wendy asked sharply.
"No one saw me," Craig promised.
"If I have to censor one more article about you changing shape in a public place, I will melt you down until you've learnt your lesson," Ethan said, glaring.
Craig winced. "Geez, all right! I'm still positive that no one saw me."
"It's your own fault, man, don't look at me like that," Adam said, finishing off his soup. "C'mon, I'm beat."
"Dude, it's not even eight."
Adam nodded over to Layla, whose chin was resting on her chest, her eyes closed and breathing heavy. "Don't think that matters to anyone else. If you can't sleep, then you can train instead."
"Fuck, you're just as bad as Ethan," Craig groaned.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Adam said with a grin, holding out a fist for Ethan to bump.
Ethan grinned and bumped him back. "Night everyone," he said, taking his and Zach's bowls back to the kitchen.
Warren gathered the rest of the bowls as the others left to the downstairs rooms and training arena. When the dishwasher was stacked and on, he returned to wake Layla and guide her downstairs to their room. She was in bed and asleep again within seconds. Warren took longer to finish his nightly routine before joining her in bed to sleep.
Tomorrow, they would receive confirmation that their fake plants passed Customs and Quarantine, and then they would be cleared to sell their flowers overseas.
...
Two months had passed since The Hive opened and by that time, Josie had practically forgotten about the plants. After a month, the lavender bushes had grown bigger, far too big to be kept inside, and Josie had moved them outside instead. She put one at the front door and the other at the back, providing a nice burst of colour and adding a lovely scent to the house. It took less than ten minutes to move the two plants to the freshly 'dug' holes that Steve had created for her, almost as if the plants wanted to be outside in the sunlight and fresh air. The house had creaked ominously on the foundation when Steve created the two holes, but it did the same whenever he lost at pool, and the house came with a warranty specifically for supers, so Josie simply shot him a look of warning that had Steve retreating sooner rather than later.
With the plants in the ground and a bit of soil around them, Josie followed her husband inside to wash her hands. The fake plant on the kitchen windowsill looked the same as usual, bright yellow and cheerful and completely innocent.
Since one of the lavender bushes faced the street and the backyard's fences weren't high enough to stop snooping neighbours, Josie made sure to be seen watering the bushes every now and then. Eventually, she became too busy, rushing off for the latest house listing or villain to fight, and Josie forgot about watering them more often than not.
While the bees were certainly attracted to the plants, Josie was almost positive that Layla had done something to the lavender bushes because she had killed every other plant she'd ever owned, whether or not she watered them, and these ones were thriving.
Still, with not much maintenance required to take care of the plants and other more important things to worry about, Josie soon forgot about the plants entirely. She gave watering duties to Will, who reluctantly sprayed them once a week, but otherwise Josie didn't pay the bushes any mind except to smell the lovely scent on the way to her car or when sitting on the back porch.
The deaths began suddenly and without any warning. At first, it was simply odd: one person had died in their home without a single lead to follow up on. The coroner had declared the man DOA - dead on arrival - but stated that since there was no outward sign of the cause of death, an autopsy was required. According to the medical examiner at the morgue, the man had asphyxiated. He had suffocated to death despite the fact that his home had been locked, there was no sign of a struggle, nor any of the usual markings around the neck or mouth, nor any fingerprints accompanied by asphyxiation. He had suffocated to death alone in his locked house.
Most people didn't hear about the man's death unless they read the obituaries, and while Josie preferred not to read the obituaries, she heard about the man's death via the Mayor, who was concerned for one very good reason: the man was none other than Papillion. Papillion was a superhero, a man who could turn into a butterfly, and he had helped Josie and Steve on a few occasions when subtlety and/or information was required. No one would take notice of a butterfly fluttering by their window, and if they did, then they would never think it was actually a person taking note of who they were, how many people they had inside, and where their kidnapped victim was held.
Papillion was the first of many, though no one realised until it was too late. The next odd death was a citizen; the third was a supervillain. All of the victims were of different ages, ethnicities, genders, and had even lived in different neighbourhoods, so there was nothing to connect the victims besides their cause of death by asphyxiation.
Josie had convinced the coroner and the medical examiner to let her know about the odd asphyxiation deaths as soon as they discovered them. When the third death had occurred, she was finally able to convince the Mayor to let her and Steve look at the crime scene first. Josie had been given the files for the last two deaths by a young deputy with bright blonde hair, the man looking at her alter ego's real estate guise curiously. She had ignored him and left with the reports, spending days pouring over the pictures and police reports, trying to find a connection where the police themselves had found none.
She found nothing. Even at the house of the third victim, there was nothing that looked out of place or similar to the other victims' belongings. They didn't even have the same furniture. Josie had fought Wonderful Man a year or two before teaming up with Steve, and while the supervillain's name was definitely a misnomer, she hadn't expected him to die like this.
"Are you all right, dear?" Steve asked, and Josie realised that she'd stopped moving through the small home, hovering in mid-air and caught up by her thoughts.
She was holding Steve up so they wouldn't contaminate the crime scene and her arms were starting to ache. "Fine. Let's go home and let the police do their jobs. I can't see - " she trailed off abruptly.
"You can't see?!" Steve asked, alarmed. He tried to tilt his head back to look up at his wife, though the neck cuff thing on his suit made it difficult.
"Be quiet, Steve; I'm fine," Josie said, flying over towards Wonderful Man's dining table.
There, sitting on the table, was a small tin bucket with a tulip sitting inside. Josie instructed Steve to pick up the flower, since her hands were full and he was wearing gloves. He did so carefully, lifting the flower up to her at her next instruction. Josie breathed in deeply, trying to see if she could smell anything.
"What is it?" Steve asked, lowering the bucket back down to the table carefully.
"Fake," Josie replied, annoyed at herself. "Let's go home."
Steve nodded and stayed silent as Josie flew them out of the house and to their car.
...
"Magenta's allergic to lavender, so she doesn't want to come over here anymore. I don't see why we have to have the stupid plants anyway, they stink," Will muttered.
"It's to save the bees, Will. Besides, they're good for the environment, and you're more than welcome to visit Magenta at her home instead of bringing her back here," Josie said absent-mindedly, distracted as she looked over the police reports yet again.
"Your mother's upset that Magenta beat her score on the pinball machine," Steve muttered lowly, winking at Will.
Josie looked up to glare at her husband, but Steve had already left the room, Will hurrying after him. She sighed and looked at the pictures again, hoping that something would jump out at her to say 'this is it! This is the killer!' but nothing did. They didn't even have the same cleaning products, for goodness sakes. All of the victims had plants from The Hive, but they were fake, so it didn't seem to warrant much attention.
Remembering the listening bugs she'd cleverly hidden at The Hive, Josie decided to listen to the recordings. Since returning from The Hive, she hadn't actually listened to the recordings, as she was certain that it was nothing more than a legitimate business. Now, she wasn't so sure.
Three hours later, Josie had a migraine and was even more annoyed than she had been earlier. Two of the recordings were filled with static and loud booming recordings of sports games, one recording was of whooping and shrill noises that could only be from a fire alarm, and the fourth was of Steve singing in the shower.
Using one of her devices to find the bug, Josie reset the listening bug and returned it to her stockpile in the Secret Sanctum. (While she did have some technical know-how, the bug-finding device was actually something that had been created from a blueprint that had been found among Royal Pain's belongings. Josie might not like villains, but she had to admit that sometimes their inventions were useful.)
She spent the next three hours finding the other two listening devices, going to four different sports fields around Maxville before the device lit up blue to indicate the bugs were nearby. The fourth bug could have been anywhere in Maxville, and there was nothing on the device to seek out a listening bug in such a large radius.
Maybe she could get Royal Pain to update the device in exchange for some time in solitary, away from Penny? It wouldn't be the first time she'd used the villain's services since Royal Pain had been sent to Maxville Penitentiary.
It was a thought to be explored another day. For now, Josie wanted to do nothing more than return home, take something for her pounding migraine, and go to sleep. In the morning, she could destroy the recording for the other listening device so she wouldn't have to hear that damn alarm again.
...
Business, as Ethan had wittingly stated, was blooming. Social media had taken over, thanks to Wendy and Adam's combined skills with Twitter, Facebook, and Tumblr. It was Craig's Instagram account that really sold The Hive's 'cute fake plants for charity!' cause. Of course, the fact that he had Adam hack into several celebrity accounts so he could then pose as said celebrity with The Hive's plants might have helped sales just a tiny bit.
Within a matter of hours, #savethebees was trending on both Twitter and Facebook, several people had taken photos of The Hive's plants, honey, and beauty products, and Layla gave an exclusive video interview to The Labyrinth so they could add it to their website for the world to see.
Layla cheerfully stated how important it was to save the bees and environment, adding a few remarks about saving the environment for future generations, and it was only five dollars with free shipping both in the US and internationally for those who expected to pay tens or hundreds of dollars for the cause, and then, just in case that wasn't enough, Layla convinced Warren to 'accidentally' strip out of his beekeeper's outfit in the background. He only did so once he was safely out of range of the beehives, which put him closer to the camera than he would have liked.
#smokinghotbeekeper surpassed #savethebees by a few million posts, and by the end of the night, the site was sold out with thousands of emails pouring in from people wanting their own cute flowers and more information about the beekeeper.
Layla posted several photos of herself with Warren so people would be aware that he was taken and not interested in anyone else. The backlash was surprisingly deadly, with people threatening Layla's life over a man they'd briefly seen online.
"Adam, find out who these people are. I want their names and addresses so I know exactly who to burn alive," Warren snarled when he saw some of the comments that had been emailed and posted online, his hands already alight.
Layla kissed him firmly, the flames lessening slowly. "For now, let's just send them two plants. Later, we'll take the time to hunt them down ourselves. I want to watch them burn."
Warren pulled Layla flush up against his body and Adam wisely decided to leave Chaos alone. Despite the amount of work he had ahead, Adam was so utterly glad he was on their side.
The list was printed and waiting for them in the morning, using a whole ream of recycled paper just to list all of the future victims' pertinent information. Adam had also taken the time to mark the names and addresses of those local to Maxville and the surrounding towns. These twelve citizens were obviously stupid, considering they lived in and around the largest super-filled city in the world, and yet didn't have the common sense to think that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to threaten people online when they lived in said city. Of course, the rest of the victims were just as stupid for making threats; The Hive had their business address listed quite clearly online, but apparently they all believed themselves to be anonymous and safe. They would find out the hard way just how wrong they were.
The charitable donations sent to The Hive reduced as people moved on, but by the time the orders were done, eighteen million people had either donated, purchased a fake plant, or done both. As promised, half of the proceeds went directly to charity. The other half were distributed amongst themselves, but they all decided to put most of their money directly back into The Hive since they needed to post several million fake plants to people locally, nationally, and overseas.
Ethan took care of the accounts, ensuring they all still had enough money to pay rent, buy groceries (though Layla's garden supplied all of the fruit and vegetables they'd ever need), and live their day-to-day lives.
...
There was a gap of a whole month where nothing happened; it set Josie on edge and she started to think that maybe she was seeing patterns where there were none, that perhaps all of those people had just stopped breathing on their own. Then victims four, five, six, and seven were killed in the space of three days. This time, people started to take notice. While Josie didn't read the obituaries, journalists certainly did, and one journalist had seen the connection between 'cause of death: unknown' and the frequency of the recent deaths. He had interviewed both the coroner and medical examiner, ending up with the heading 'Invisible serial killer: who's next?' written in bold letters across the top of the paper.
The Labyrinth sold out in less than an hour, the first time since it had been first published. Most people considered the paper as nothing but a tabloid, written for conspiracy theorists and those who believed everything they saw on Fox News. This time, however, it seemed that The Labyrinth had won the proverbial jackpot, as other news outlets researched the story and found their own sources within the police force and morgue 'neither confirming nor denying the story', which obviously meant it was real.
Barely two days had passed before mass panic erupted amongst the citizens - and supers, truth be told. They emptied every shelf in grocery stores in a matter of hours, everyone distrusting each other to the point where they locked themselves in their homes to avoid becoming the next victim. They each told themselves that they had better security, better plans, better this or that, and they wouldn't be as stupid as the previous victims, they alone would survive. They didn't.
Victims eight through to sixteen were killed over a four-day period, all of them locked up at home, and two people even had bars on their windows, with a third physically boarding their windows and doors. The police had needed to break the door down with a battering ram.
People started demanding answers, justice, and retribution, laying blame at the feet of the Commander and Jetstream because they were the world's best superheroes and they hadn't stopped this monstrous villain yet. The Commander and Jetstream had tried everything they possibly could: they had roamed the streets while others locked themselves away, they had called in favours, bribed others with photographs and signatures, and had even visited Baron Battle and Royal Pain in Maxville Penitentiary, demanding answers of their own.
Neither of the villains had been of any use, though Royal Pain had sneered at their questions and said she wasn't psychic. It was this comment that had brought Jetstream to her latest and, honestly, last attempt at solving the murders: Hourglass.
...
Josie walked into Hourglass' office, trying to seem imposing and confident, rather than show the inner turmoil of feelings that made her feel small and inadequate. She'd barely rung Hourglass' number - another favour called in - when the woman had answered the phone, promptly stating that she was available in an hour and a half, rattling off an address, and hanging up. The call lasted all of twenty-one seconds. Josie hadn't even had a chance to write the address down, but it wasn't hard to remember: Hourglass' office was in the building right across from the Mayor.
The office was clean, spartan, and spacious. The windows were tinted to allow the sun to enter the room, a wide open door leading out to the balcony overlooking Maxville and providing a fantastic view. Lights started to appear in windows across the homes and a few offices - some people refused to stop working just because a serial killer was on the loose - as night started to descend like a thick blanket across the town. Josie had a brief thought that perhaps it was like a blanket, and all of the townspeople were hiding beneath it, hoping the killer wouldn't find them in their safe and secure hiding places.
In regards to the rest of Hourglass' office, there wasn't much in the way of personality, unless the original Jackson Pollock hanging on the wall was an indication of a person's personality, that is. There were several glass ornaments along a bookcase, most of the books looking as though they were there for decoration rather than to be read, and a now-familiar plant in a tin bucket sitting innocuously on a shelf.
Hourglass, seated at her desk, looked up when Josie was close enough and indicated to the seat across from her. Rather than her desk being parallel to the window, Hourglass had chosen to move it at a ninety degree angle to the window instead. Josie was curious about the positioning but couldn't bring herself to ask - was it to do with feng shui, or was she paranoid about having her back to the window, or did she simply like to make people walk that little bit longer to get to their seats?
Josie sat down, wondering why she felt like she was in the principal's office; Hourglass was probably her age, maybe even a few years younger, so it was ridiculous to feel like this. It was obviously a result of the long search that had led her here.
The night air outside was coming in through the open door, but it was a hot night and the breeze was pleasant enough. She breathed in deeply and let the motion and fresh air calm her nerves.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Hourglass," Josie stated with her biggest and best smile.
"I didn't. I simply stated when I was available; you chose to accept the invitation. I take it you're here about the murders?" Hourglass asked, her voice firm and businesslike.
Josie's smile faltered and she nodded. "Yes. Do you know who's doing them? Or why? Or where they are? Or who's next?"
"That's a lot of questions to be answered; have you paid my fee?" Hourglass asked bluntly.
Josie nodded again. "Yes, I paid with the woman at the front desk; she gave me this," she said, handing the receipt over.
Hourglass looked at the receipt and then nodded. "Good. Which question do you want answered first?"
"Who is committing the murders? Please," Josie tacked on quickly.
Hourglass nodded, picked up a pen and closed her eyes, her hand poised over a blank sheet of paper. Josie watched intently, eyes wide, heart pounding. Hourglass' pen lowered to the piece of paper and she started to write.
After so long with no leads, was she finally about to get an answer?
A minute passed and Hourglass opened her eyes again, setting the pen aside. She looked down at the paper, frowning slightly before picking it up to hand to Josie. "It's an address; I don't know who it belongs to, but it might be your killer."
Josie read the address, her eyes widening again, but this time for a very different reason. Dread filled her body, ice filling her veins, and she shook her head. "It's not the killer; that's my home," she said, then immediately flew out of the open door, heading straight for her home.
Back in her office, Hourglass stood and closed the balcony door behind Josie's abrupt exit. With that done, she picked up her phone and dialled a number. "Initiate phases three and four."
...
Josie almost burst straight through the window, stopping herself at the last minute because they'd just had the windows replaced from a mishap with her husband, her son, and a frisbee a mere month ago. That, and there could be something happening inside that required subtlety and discretion, rather than her rushing in with her cape blazing.
She stopped and listened closely, surprised and confused when she heard laughter. Josie let herself float down to the front door, changing from her supersuit into her normal real estate clothes, and cautiously opened the door.
"No way!" Will laughed, his voice pleasant and without any hint of awkwardness or warning.
Josie made her way inside, her hand ready on her taser and she looked into the lounge room, blinking when she saw the scene in front of her.
"Hey mum; you're home late, is everything okay?" Will asked.
"Fine. What's going on here?" Josie asked, looking between Will, Magenta, and Steve to where the Mayor was sitting with his wife on their lounge.
"Well, we figured if any place is going to be safe, it would be with the Stronghold Three. Martha's mighty upset about these murders, y'see, and I don't want to upset my darling wife," the Mayor said, smiling at his wife and patting her on the knee.
Ah, so it looked like she'd finally taken the Mayor back after his last string of mistresses had been discovered, Josie mused.
She wondered if this is what Hourglass' vision had been about. Surely the Mayor and his wife weren't the killers? That was ridiculous. She suddenly regretted going to see Hourglass and paying the exorbitant amount of money for her vision.
"Steve, has the guest room been made up?" Josie asked, her husband nodding.
"Yes, and we've had dinner as well. I've got some leftovers in the oven for you," Steve said, sounding proud of his achievement.
"Thank you, dear," she replied, suddenly feeling exhausted as the months of searching and getting nowhere finally caught up with her. "I think I might need to go to bed early tonight. See you tomorrow morning," Josie said, leaving before anyone could respond. She managed to change into her pyjamas before she collapsed into bed and fell straight to sleep.
...
Josie had always been a light sleeper, rousing at the first break of daylight through the windows, for every cry Will made during the night, or when racoons pilfered through their bins. She had since installed blackout curtains, Will had grown up, and Steve had organised something to get rid of the racoons (there were significantly fewer racoons throughout the whole of Maxville, but Josie didn't notice that, especially not when there were citizens to save and villains to defeat). Since their home was safe from villains by her own design, Josie had managed to sleep soundly for a number of years now. Tonight, despite her utter exhaustion, she found herself waking up to a dark room and the sound of someone wheezing.
She blinked the sleep away hazily, her mind trying to connect the sound with the appropriate response: concern, fight, flight, or sleep? Josie almost chose the latter, and then remembered that the Mayor and his wife were in her house. If anything had happened and Josie hadn't tried to help them, well, the thought was too awful to think about.
She was up in a second, had a nightgown on a heartbeat later, and walked out of the bedroom to find the source of the noise. Josie realised that the whole house was dark, not even the glow from the outside light post shining through the bathroom window as it usually did.
The city must have had a blackout; too many people using their air conditioners, she mused, making her way towards the wheezing noise.
The noise wasn't coming from the guest room, but rather Will's room. Her heart clenched in fear and Josie flew the last few metres to her son's room, opening the door, damn the consequences and potential embarrassment. She flicked the light switch as a force of habit, and light filled the room instantly. In a moment, she saw that Will was fine. Magenta, however, was not. Magenta's face and arms were covered in a rash, and there was a stench of vomit in the room, even over the lavender smell.
Lavender smell? Josie wondered briefly. Will had ensured to keep his window closed so the scent of lavender couldn't enter his room, yet now she could smell it as clearly as if she had jumped straight into the bushes themselves.
"Will!" Josie snapped, her son bolting upright at the noise.
Will saw Magenta and paled, scrambling out of the bed to get a antihistamine shot from his bedside table. He injected it into her arm carefully, pressing the syringe down. "Mum, can you pass me the cream?" he said, nodding to the small tub on his desk.
Josie passed it to him, watching for a proud moment as he tenderly applied the cream to Magenta's rash-covered and swollen face. Then, as she remembered her earlier thought about the street lights and power outage, she frowned on realising that the lights were working. She looked to Will's alarm clock by his bed: 4:25am. It wasn't as early as she had expected, her mind immediately assuming that the darkened house was due to the early time. Dawn was around 5am most days, so the outside light should have been filtering a greyish-dawn light through the blinds. Instead, it was pitch black.
"I'm going to find out what's going on," Josie said, flying out without waiting for a response.
Going to the kitchen, Josie turned on the lights and saw the cause of the problem; the lavender bushes had grown to exponential heights, towering over the house itself from the front and back, blocking the sides as well. Josie gaped at the sight. She had a brief and somewhat hysterical moment wondering if this is what Jack's mother would have felt like in the fairy tale.
Lavender engulfed the house entirely, the bushes too thick and strong to break through, even for Steve. Josie remembered that the Mayor and his wife were still in the house, still sleeping on and oblivious to what was happening outside. She would have preferred to keep it that way, to get this resolved before they even knew what was happening, but then the Mayor's phone rang, loud and shrill in the dark house.
"Hello?" the Mayor answered after a few seconds. "A fire? People trapped? Fire trucks blocked? Of course, of course. I'l get the Commander and Jetstream to handle it right away. Yes, I'll be at the press conference in an hour."
The Mayor made his way downstairs to find the Commander and Jetstream already suited up. He smiled brightly at the sight. "Good morning. I suppose you heard the call?"
"Call?" Steve asked, frowning over at his wife.
"Uh, no, Mr. Mayor. We're dealing with a situation of our own at the moment," Josie said delicately, then nodded over to the window.
"Holy mother of God. What is that?"
"Lavender. It seems the bushes outside have grown to an enormous size and covered the whole house."
"Isn't that why you have a Secret Sanctum? To get out of the house without using the front door?" the Mayor asked. "There's a building on fire downtown, people are trapped, and the fire engines can't get to them! I promised that you would help! And I have a press conference to get to."
"Yes, of course we will, but... The roots of the plant are almost as tall as the lavender bush itself. It's barricaded us inside."
"How do you usually get rid of weeds?" the Mayor asked, starting to get annoyed.
"Right. I'll call the gardener," Steve said.
"Steve. There's weedkiller in the garage; you can get in there through the internal door," Josie said, guiding him over. "Remember to dilute the weedkiller; we don't want to breathe in pure chemicals."
Chemistry wasn't Steve's strongest suit in high school, and since graduating, he'd forgotten everything about chemicals and dilution. The word itself didn't mean a whole lot to him, but he figured there had to be instructions or an app or something. When he hadn't returned with the weedkiller and hose almost ten minutes later, Josie excused herself to check on her husband. Steve was in the garage, looking between the bottle of weedkiller and his phone every so often. A bucket was at his feet, and she could smell the chemicals he'd already poured in.
"Steve, what are you doing?"
"Trying to figure out how to dilute this so we don't breathe in pure chemicals," he replied, frowning a little at her question.
Josie stalked over, saw how much he'd poured in, then filled up three-quarters of the bucket with water. "This should be enough; bring the rest of the weedkiller with you, just in case."
Steve nodded and hurried to grab the bucket and bottle, following after his wife as fast as he could.
The weedkiller didn't do much, even when Josie decided to risk the pure chemicals and pour the liquid straight from the bottle onto the bush. It was too strong and was impervious to the chemicals that drenched it. The smell of the chemicals, as predicted, was worse for them than it was for the plant. Josie started coughing, exposed to too much too fast, and the Mayor coughed miserably, waving a hand in front of his face.
"Steve, wasn't there an axe in the garage?" Josie asked when she'd recovered from her coughing fit, her eyes watering.
Josie grabbed a glass of water for the Mayor, helping him recover from his coughing. Will came downstairs, already dressed in his supersuit.
"What are you doing? What about Magenta?"
"Martha has offered to take care of her," Will said. "Which was very kind of her," he added in a complimentary tone when his mother raised an eyebrow and her gaze flicked over to the Mayor.
"Yes, it was. We'll have to think of some way to thank her later," Josie said with a bright smile, though her tone fell short and her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. No one said the unfinished words: if we survive.
"Found the axe, dear. It was behind the paint tins we bought for Will's go-kart back when he was in pre-school. It's a little, uh, rusted," Steve said, looking down at the dull and rust-spotted axe. He looked up again and stopped abruptly, his eyes widening.
"What's wrong? Why aren't you cutting the plant already?"
Will looked over to his father, then looked in the same direction. He grabbed the Mayor and moved the man behind him, holding a hand out for his mother. "I think we're about to find out what killed those people," he said weakly.
Josie turned around to see what was going on. The plant on the windowsill, the fake plant that had looked so cheerful and brightened up her day, was now a large vine, towering up over her. Josie flew backwards in surprise, crashing into Will, who caught her before they both knocked over the Mayor.
"Steve, the axe!" Josie called.
"Right," Steve replied, lifting the axe and chopping at the vine.
His strength was enough to dent the wooden handle of the axe, and though he took a fairly sizeable chunk out of the vine, the axe blade was too rusted to do too much damage. The forward momentum of his swing continued, the axe handle continuing and breaking off the blade entirely, leaving Steve holding a broken wooden stick in his hands. There was no second chance; the vine shot out a number of thorns in all directions, some directly striking the Stronghold Three while others embedded in the walls around them.
The Mayor, still hidden behind Will and Josie, hadn't been hit. As soon as he saw the thorns embedded in the superheroes, the Mayor ran upstairs to his wife so they could get the hell out of there before they were killed as well.
"Is the room spinning or am I?" Will asked, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. A feeling of warmth started to fill his body and he began to slump down to the ground.
Josie wanted to reply, but her jaw, neck, and head felt too weak. She relaxed to the point where she leaned against the doorway for support, even though her brain tried to fight the poison that filled her system. Her arms and legs felt like lead weights, making her sink down to the ground completely, unable to stand.
Steve was indestructible, it said so right there on the packaging, but his skin still had the ability to absorb things. The thorns that hit him had bounced off immediately, but the poison that coated the thorns had already started to do its work. Not long after Josie and Will had slumped down to the ground, Steve followed their descent. His chest became heavy, hard to lift and hard to fill his lungs. The shortness of breath was terrifying, especially since he'd never experienced the sensation before in his life. Steve was dimly aware that he could hear, though the noises were muffled like his ears themselves had started to shut down as well.
Light, brilliantly white and blinding, filled the kitchen suddenly. Josie couldn't shield her eyes, could barely blink, but she recognised the person who entered her house easily enough. Layla stood in the doorway, looking furious and terrifying. She went straight over to her vine, let it curl around her arm harmlessly, and Josie could only watch as the vine sank into her arm. It was as though the vine was part of Layla, not something that she could simply affect. If she could have shuddered in revulsion, Josie would have done exactly that.
Layla smiled and crouched before Josie and Will, both of them dying slowly and completely useless to stop it. "Good morning! I hope you're appreciating my plant. I worked so hard to get all of the components right, you know. It's a mix of three very different plants: the poison working through your system now is courtesy of the Strychnos toxifera, the curare vine; the flower and lack of scent was from ranuculus, or buttercup; and the thorns, well... I've always enjoyed the fact that roses look beautiful but are designed to cause pain. Maybe I should have gone with Rose instead of Poison," she mused with a soft laugh.
"Now, I think that's quite enough monologuing, don't you? You'll be dead soon, asphyxiated when you start choking to death on your own saliva, your lungs and chest too heavy to breathe properly. You can feel it already, can't you?" Layla asked, smiling brightly.
Then, without another word - whether farewell, mocking, or otherwise - she stood up and stepped over their bodies to head upstairs. Martha was struggling with the window, crying as her efforts increased in their desperation and uselessness; Magenta was still recovering and could barely see as the lavender scent had increased with the mere centimetre the window had been opened; and the Mayor had fainted or collapsed and was on the floor.
Layla let her vine curl out from her arm and watched as her poisonous thorns flew at the three people, smiling the whole time.
...
"This is Brian Anderson, Channel Five news, and we have reporters live at the scene of the fire. There is still no word from Jetstream and the Commander, is that correct?"
In the background, several firefighters had arrived, sans firetruck. They attempted to get into the burning building anyway, but several explosions from inside had the flames billowing out further, the reporter flinching. Both the reporter and camera moved further away from the building for their own safety. Screams could be heard from the people inside the building.
"That is correct, Brian. No one has seen either of the two superheroes, and we're just getting word that the Mayor has not turned up for his press conference at City Hall."
Brian was genuinely shocked by his colleague's statement, but he hurried to school his features once more. "Well, I'm sure someone at the studio can try to contact the Mayor or someone in his office instead," he said, looking meaningfully over to one of the interns.
Several people rushed off to do as he said, and Brian focused his attention on the camera once more.
"The question on everyone's lips right now is: where are Jetstream and the Commander?"
...
"Phase four has been initiated!" Zach called gleefully, looking as excited as a child on Christmas morning.
Ethan rolled his eyes at his boyfriend because they were all in the same room and there was no need to shout, but he didn't say anything since Zach was so excited and happy. Zach had been looking forward to this for almost two years; in fact, they all had.
"Are you sure you're ready for this, hippie?" Warren asked, voice low and soft, mindful of those around them.
Layla nodded. "Positive."
"Thank fuck for that. I'll be right here, take whatever you need," he added, pressing a kiss to her mouth, uncharacteristically light and gentle compared to their usual kisses.
Layla smiled up at him. "Love you, Fire."
"Love you, Poison," he said, squeezing her hand.
With that, Layla closed her eyes, Warren strapped her into the last of the belts around the examination table, and Ethan injected Layla with a swirling green liquid.
Jetstream hadn't been the only visitor to Maxville Penitentiary over the years, and while Josie had promised Royal Pain solitary or a few hours away from Penny, Chaos had offered Gwen exactly what she wanted and what they could guarantee with her help: her freedom.
Gwen could create more than technology, and she had been Mr. Medulla's TA for a reason. Truth be told, if she hadn't been so hell-bent on conquering the world, she could have become a world-renown Mad Scientist in her own right. Gwen didn't seem to regret her attempt at world domination, but she seemed dull until the spark of life and excitement filled her eyes as she started to use that evil brain of hers to create this power-enhancing concoction for them.
While Layla's power allowed her greater control over her own created plant-life than the rest of the flora in the world, she still wasn't able to control more than eighteen-million plants at one time. She had grown her power since Sky High and could now control a few hundred thousand plants at a close range, but the number decreased as the distance increased, and the risk associated with Gwen's enhancing concoction would be worth it in the end. She had been given smaller dosages over the past two months to ready and test herself.
The first test had shown that Layla control a smaller number of plants over much larger distances, with the news in Central America showing abnormally large crops of sugarcane and corn stalks.
The second test increased the dosage and the result increased both the number and distance, with Uruguay producing towering crops of wheat and barley, while the southernmost area of Chile produced oversized plums, pears, and apples, and Argentina had maize and wheat as tall as buildings.
The third test was the challenge, but they all kept watch on their social media and news feeds intently as Layla recovered. She had tested countries one at a time and the news trickled in slowly at first. Then, as more countries and confused farmers started to report their news, stories flew in from across the world regarding the oversized crops. The United Kingdom had sugar beet and wheat; China had sorghum and millet; cotton and potatoes in Chad; oats and sugar beet in Sweden; wheat and barley in Australia; rye and oats in Russia; rice and several vegetables in India.
The fourth and final test was to test several countries at once, ranging from local and interstate, to small islands that required precision, control, and concentration. Afterwards, Layla had slept for three days straight. She smiled broadly when she saw the resulting footage that Adam had put together for her, knowing then that they were ready.
Now, with the testing stages complete, Layla was about to attempt the same with her own plants across the world. Every person who had received a fake plant for their donation to save the bees was about to receive the shock of their lives.
While Zach and Craig had both been banned from The Hive for the fourth test, much to their annoyance, no one tried to keep them away for this. They both sat quietly, the lack of noise odd and uncharacteristic for both young men, but they understood the importance of this. Besides, Ethan would probably melt them down if they said or did anything to jeopardise Layla's concentration.
Keeping her breathing deep, steady, and as even as possible, Layla clenched and splayed her fingers, feeling as her power increased slowly. Then, as the larger dose worked through her system faster, the feeling increased faster as well, both of them spurring each other on until she couldn't just recognise every plant in the world, she was every plant in the world. Layla opened her eyes, the irises bright green and the thin arteries and veins along her eyeballs turning green.
"Are you all right?" Warren asked, looking down over her.
Layla smiled and in the room around them, all of the flowers burst into bloom.
"Okay. That's a good start, Layla. Can you go further? What about the rest of Maxville?" Ethan guided, a checklist ready and waiting.
Layla blinked and exhaled, all of the plants in Maxville bursting into their vine form, killing the occupants around them.
Adam had accessed the cameras of several people around Maxville, people who regularly left their laptops open or webcams plugged into the computers. He watched as they died, nodding to Ethan to continue. As Ethan guided Layla to continue with the rest of the state, Adam closed the local camera access and moved state-wide, following the same procedure for national and international.
Layla's scream rent the air. Warren grabbed her hand immediately, looking down at her, seeing her irises flickering between green and brown. "It's okay, only three more countries left. You're almost done, hippie. Take my power, come on. Good, good," he murmured, stroking her hair gently, ignoring the vine tendrils, flowers, and leaves that followed his hand's movement.
Layla looked up at him with wide eyes, her breathing laboured and her heart racing. This concoction was too much, too strong, it was destroying her and killing her from the inside it, it was eating away at her power. She opened her mouth to try to tell Warren this, but instead, a flower bloomed from between her lips instead.
"Come on, Layla. Australia, New Zealand, and Mauritius. That's all that's left. Two tiny coastal countries, and you can skip the ten deserts in Australia, I promise," Warren said with a warm smile.
Around the flower, Layla smiled back at him. She inhaled and exhaled once more, then used the tattooed link between herself and Warren to take on his power, increasing and helping the depleting enhancer that was destroying her.
She stretched out her power, destroying Mauritius, then New Zealand, then finally Australia. As she did so, Layla arched off the table, the straps taut against her body and limbs. Then, as the final vine grew to its final stage, Layla slumped back against the table limply, her eyes closing and her chest stilling after one final breath.
Warren collapsed on top of her, his power drained faster than he had expected. He could feel one of Layla's vines wrap around him, continuing to take more and more of his power, even though it was no longer needed, and then without warning, he was completely empty. He didn't even have a single flame left to light a simple tea candle.
Around them, the plants started to wither and die, curling down into brown thin stalks. Ethan looked up from his checklist at Zach's distraught whimper, his eyes widening at the sight.
"What the hell's going on?" Craig asked, breaking the silence first, staring between the dead plants and Layla and Warren.
"They're not... They... Ethan, tell me they're not, not," Zach stumbled over his words, unable to get that last word out, lest saying it aloud made it final, made it true. "They can't be!"
Ethan set his checklist aside and stepped forward, careful and cautious. Everyone watched intently, holding their breath. He stretched out a trembling hand towards Layla and Warren. Before he could touch them, Warren burst into flames. Ethan scrambled back abruptly, fear making his heart pound in his chest. Below Warren, Layla's body continued to burst into bloom with flowers and vines and leaves enveloping her entirely.
Wendy's phone rang loudly and she answered the call without even looking at the caller ID.
"Get out of the room and close the door behind you. They'll be all right, just don't try to help them, okay?" Honey's voice commanded on the other end of the phone.
"Where the hell are you, Honey?"
"I forgot I had a plant at home, I had to save Ari," Honey replied, Ari whimpering in the background, and then she hung up.
Wendy passed on Honey's message and slowly, reluctantly, they all left the room and closed the door behind them as their leaders burned and blossomed to death.
...
He opened his eyes. He thought he did, at least, he couldn't quite remember if this was seeing or not. He was still slumped over the table, over her body, and he moved until he was standing beside her. On the table, she blinked and sat up, the straps burnt away long ago.
They both stood there and looked at each other, looking without seeing, without actually opening their eyes until the moment they did open their eyes to see each other for the first time all over again. He was covered in a bright blue glow, heat radiating from his new body. She was covered in green, with flowers and leaves and vines covering her new body from head to toe.
Or perhaps, like him, she was made from the flowers and leaves and vines.
They were nameless in this moment, and he watched as her brow furrowed, green leaves fluttering in her hair with the motion.
Love you, Fire, she said, voice opening up like a flower at first light.
Love you, Poison, he replied, voice crackling flames against wood.
Fire and Poison moved to one another, needing to be as close to each other as they possibly could. Their powers burst against each other, skin and hair replacing leaves and flames, but neither one noticed until they pulled away.
Fire smiled, his eyes burning blue, and he tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. The strand curled around his finger briefly, and they both knew that the skin and hair they currently wore only masked the real power beneath. When the world belonged to them, then they would shed their masked forms for the world to see them as they truly were: Poison and Fire.
Outside, dozens of bees buzzed around the brightly coloured flowers in the garden, and beyond The Hive and Maxville itself, the world began anew.
...
The end.
Thanks for reading; I hope you liked it!