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Josie Stronghold felt like screaming in frustration. The soft whirl of mobile crafts, the teeth clenching pitch of the high velocity plasma burners, the clamor from dozens of metahumans of every stripe, the sharp white strobe lights -- for a woman who had lived on caffeine and adrenaline for the past three days, it was nearly unbearable.
Stark had radioed ahead their status. The moment the rescue party crossed from the underground complex to the derelict warehouse, medics swarmed around the kids like bees at a lemonade stand. In short order Will and Layla were layed upon stretchers. Vital signs obtained, nasal cannulas attached to improve their oxygen supply. Layla was hooked up to a dextrose and saline drip. An IV line for Will was out of the question in the field. Instead they forced orange juice down his throat. They called in a metallic Hero to separate him from the ankle chain.
With ruthless efficiency, Josie had been shunted to the side. They'd found her just as cumbersome as the metal chain.
She was only the mother.
Peters had finally gotten the longed for shot of Demerol that had motivated him up ten flights of stairs. He was having his burn dressed. Josie's regard for the man increased when he dropped the hint that he and Will and been hurt in the same accident. Warren didn't need any more nasty rumors.
Wearing masks, Steve and Stark had gone to help the second group. Josie deeply regretted that Natalie wasn't present. She could have left her in charge of the kids and gone with Steve.
The hard liners would praise her to the skies, willing to leave her ill and traumatized son to apprehend villains. The true mettle of a Hero, to put civic duty above blood attachment.
True mettle my tight ass. The Scarlet Witch had invaded Will's mind twice; leaving behind God only knows what buttons and backdoors. Josie clenched her fists. A little outpatient cranium surgery to obliterate the patterns, locking Will and Layla in the secret sanctum until her fingerprints faded. Two years tops.
Once Command got the full report, the decision might not even be up to them. Best interest of the public.
There were approximately five billion people on the planet and Will was among the five hundred most powerful of them. The other 4,999,999,500 would turn on him in a heartbeat if they thought he was dangerous.
And he thinks his Dad and I are tough on him.
She had to be apprehended. The other options were not worth contemplating.
"Mrs. Stronghold," Josie was so deep in thought she hadn't heard Warren approach. "Your husband's back." He jerked his head to his left.
"Thanks." People moved aside for her as she went to her partner's side. To the untrained eye, he looked every inch the Commander. Strong, resolute, a modern ages Hercules. Only she could see the worry in his blue eyes.
"What's wrong?"
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "The espionage team was taken down pretty bad. Three are dead. The Witch got one of them to drop a blast granade into a gas filled vent."
Josie narrowed her eyes. "I can't believe that. She's too fond of her own skin to risk it like that."
"It wasn't that much of a risk," the Commander remembered the dread he felt when Stark broke the news to him. "Maximus built a power boost device for her."
Her eyes narrowed. "She doesn't need line of sight anymore."
"Life is fucking wonderful."
"I hope they managed to at least capture him."
"He's been taken into custody," her husband assured her. "Stark is performing an autopsy on her computer. She can't have left the area. We need to take charge of this fiasco."
"We should have been more involved from the very beginning. Warren," she called to him. The pyro had been hovering nearby. Dog-like he'd parked himself in the spot with the best view of the action.
"The Scarlet Witch has not been captured. The Commander and I have are going to apprehend her. Can you stay with Will and Layla?"
Warren didn't look hopeful. "If they let me."
"Leave that to me," the Commander stalked off. After losing the Witch, he had a lot of steam to blow off.
"Here," she handed Warren a communication device. "Just hit the red button if you need me."
No big shocker, the Commander got his way. He motioned for Warren to join him.
Josie grabbed his arm first. He turned back to her, a questioning look on his face.
"Will spent half his childhood waking up to find me gone. I always told him there were bad villains I had to catch. Tell him," she suddenly seemed to deflate. She reached up to rub her forehead. "Tell him I have to catch a bad villain."
"I read her file." His frown just made his austere features more appealing. 'You don't have to justify yourself to me."
"And Will. What do I have to justify to him?"
Warren had been itching to say this for three years, but had always restrained himself. I wasn't his business. Sometimes moments come when the words are heard, not ignored. Warren just had a feeling. "You and Mr.S. You make him an adult Hero at fifteen but you don't respect him enough to level with him. He's not a kid anymore."
Josie didn't say anything. "Your husband looks like he's beaten the medics down to a figurative pulp. I'll see you later." Warren turned away from Josie and headed across the warehouse.
"Have they woken up yet?" Warren asked the Commander.
"Will's awake – he's not making much sense."
"So he's back to normal then," Warren said dryly.
The Commander glared intimidatingly at the pyro. Warren glared back. The sun didn't stop, the earth didn't shake, but it freaked out the medics.
"Sir," a stammering medic broke the fierce glare contest. "We're going to be transporting your son now. "
"Good." Steve broke eye content with Warren and took off one of his gloves. Two medics carried Will via stretcher to the air ambulance. They paused by the Commander. He knelt down by his son. The Commander felt an odd, uncomfortable heaviness in his chest.
"Hey kiddo," he forced himself to sound carefree. Steve and Josie had figured out years ago that Will was very sensitive to their moods. "Feeling better."
He pushed himself up on his elbows. "I'll live. Dad. . I'm sorry."
"Shh," Steve let his hand brush briefing against Will's cheek. "We'll talk about it later. Right now you need to get better. Don't worry about anything else. Your mother and I have work to do. These people are going to take care of you until we can." He stood up and nodded for the medics to move on.
Next two stretcher-bearers followed with Layla. She seemed asleep. When asked, the medic assured them she was fine. Warren jumped in after her. The Commander went to rejoin his wife.
Together they watched the craft lift vertically off the ground.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Will tried to sit up, but Warren seemed to think that was against the recently rescued hostage rules. Warren promised he'd update him if he stopped fidgeting and throwing back the blankets Warren kept obsessively tucking around him.
Will asked if he had a teddy bear for him.
Warren was just contemplating revenge strategies when he felt a familiar descending sensation.
"Why are we landing?" Warren turned to one of the two medics riding with them. He had expected to be airborne for at least another twenty minutes.
His look seemed to indicate he thought Warren wasn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier. "Cause we're here."
Warren looked down at the postage stamp like building. "I could have sworn Command was bigger."
"This isn't the main hospital complex." Once the craft was down, the pilot killed the motor and unlocked the main hatch. He found himself roughly hauled around to face an angry pyrokinetic.
"Where are we?"
"Take it easy. This is Gotham Hero clinic."
Warren frowned. "I thought that dive was shut down."
"Hey, my girlfriend works here," the pilot sounded indignant.
"If you're landing us so you could have a quickie I'll fry you so bad you won't even be able to think about it for a month."
"You better listen. With my girlfriend out of it and me not able to power up, there's no one to stop him," Will Stronghold piped up. "Warren's got a bit of a loose fuse."
One of the medics, Warren had heard someone call him Dave, exclaimed angrily. "You broke protocol."
"Look." Fearing a reprimand in his future, he tried to placate Warren. "I'm doing your friends a favor. Command is a mad house. All the hero media is camped out there. There's more brass at Command right now than Saturday night in the red lantern district in Maxville."
"Where exactly is the red lantern district? Dad refuses to tell me." Will sat up better to hear the conversation. "I like the sound of this place a lot better than Command."
"You don't get a vote, Stronghold." Warren pushed his hand against the younger boy's chest. He mulled over what he said. "Will they be okay here," he asked gruffly.
It was the medic, Dave who answered. The second medic didn't contribute to the conversation. "They're fine. They just need a bath and some antibiotics."
"I'm sorry if after three days locked in a cell I'm not fresh enough for you," Will grumbled from his supine position.
"If Mr. Stronghold can argue with you, he's okay and Red's starting to come around. "
"Warren. I really don't want to be poked and bothered any more than necessarily." There was a plaintive note in Will's tired voice. "I just want to get cleaned up and take a couple aspirin."
"Let's unload then." There was a sigh of release from the pilot. The hatch swung open. Dave climbed out first. The pilot jumped out to take the other end of Layla's stretcher. Will, a determined look on his face, swung his legs over the side of his own stretcher. Warren, keeping a close eye on Will, jumped down from the craft. Will reached forward to grab a handle.
"Careful," Warren warned. Will followed Warren down.
"Hang on a second." Will called out to the medic, but his voice was too hoarse to be heard.
Warren whistled shrilly. Dave and the pilot stopped. Warren and Will moved to catch up.
"Will," Layla's voice barely audible.
Warren's face broke into a beaming smile that nobody at school would have believed. His long stride beat out Will. "It's okay Layla." Warren bent down to her. "You're safe, so is Stronghold."
He didn't get a reply. "Don't worry," the medic assured him. "She's just sleeping."
By now they had reached the Plexiglas door. The medic pressed a red panel. The door swung back. A nurse dressed in starched white was waiting for them. Her no nonsense hair was pulled into a practical bun. She wore no jewelry and minimal make up. She was holding an electronic notepad and not smiling.
"I wasn't given notification of your arrival."
"Sorry," the medic told her. "It was kind of rushed at the scene. Look, the kids just have a case of gas intoxication – we've got the specs on the gas and they're already coming around. They also have a respiratory infection. Nothing this place can't handle."
Understanding shown in her eyes. "Is this the son of the Commander and Jetstream?"
"Member of your fan club, Stronghold."
"But she doesn't wear goth black or play Ron to your Hermione."
"Not to interrupt, but I'm getting tired," Dave interjected.
Another nurse, this woman wearing blue scrubs joined them, pushing a wheelchair. "Mr. Stronghold, let's get you into bed."
Will sat down in the chair. "I want Layla to be looked at first."
"Of course," she said smoothly. Warren noticed that her friendly expression didn't seem to extend to anybody but the Stronghold Heir.
"I'm nurse Fletcher. Just let me know if you need anything. Rebecca, page Dr. Connors."
Leading the way, they transversed the half lit corridors
