The Impossible Dream

The face in the mirror was more like his Grandfather's photos during his early years in the service, but gnarled and angry red like after a sound beating. Missing eyebrows just one of many glaring new features on a face covered in a mess of waxy, raised scar tissue. He resisted the urge to poke or squeeze at the stitches that sat atop the pink puckered wounds. That simple narcissistic, teenaged urge to try to smooth out the imperfections would just cause more bleeding and increase the chance of infection. Frustrated he let his face be while he gripped the hard, cold porcelain of the sink, body mostly bare to the steamed environment in just a damp towel.

Stepping back from the sink he padded over to the light switch panel and flipped the other three up, the seafoam green room flickered to life and the row of sinks and mirrors reflected the upper half of his scarred body. Mama had nicknamed him Flaquito growing up, no matter how much they fed him he'd been bony and gaunt, while Grandpa preferred Flaco. Yet despite the gross scarring across his body he now packed on an impressive amount of muscle. Again these changes to his body reflected his Grandfather in his prime, which was strange as Ray didn't know his biological dad, not that his mom could say since she abandoned him to her folks as a kid.

His brain rewound the moment to that familiar glimpse of his silhouette before he flipped the lights. Without the details of his scars or distracting face, he cut a figure more of a seasoned college football player rather than a once wiry seventeen year old. He wiped at the slight bit of condensation on one of the mirrors and then stepped back to flex his arms and display the unearned muscles. Before he was tall but rail thin now he was muscular yet horribly scarred, once again an awkward balance to his appearance.

With a sigh Flaco stepped back from the sinks and squinted at his reflection, obscuring his face and the details of his scars and did one last flexing pose. Yeah, if things worked out like they mentioned maybe he could make it work.

Maybe.

~~x

The Youth Guard had taken over temporary custody once the PRT had established Flaco was both a cape and a minor. With the events of the attack by Leviathan it would take weeks if not months to get proper school and immunization records, but the address and details about his Mother, his adoption, his Grandparents - including his Abuelo's service record at least corroborated his story with federal and military related records held outside of Brockton Bay.

Once dried from his shower Flaco slipped on a simple white t-shirt, gray and red warmup pants, and a gray hoodie, hood up to hide his baldness and scarred features. He sat on the floor of his spartan, temporary room, leaning against the edge of his immaculately made bed as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. Even how he leaned against the bed to not disturb how he made it was done in a manner to please his Grandfather, carefully tucked sheets and an even surface. This only reminded Flaco that he was alive, and no one else he loved or even cared about lived anymore. The urge to go home returned and grew into a magnetic pull but he resisted traveling to the disaster site again. Even if it was a quick trip with his dust-ghost thing his body could now do he didn't want to see the broken foundation that sat as a grave marker for his family and entire teenaged life.

A series of light raps on the door broke his thoughts.

"Ray, are you ready?" The voice was almost too soft, especially muffled by the door.

He stood up and straightened his hoodie as he spoke, "Uhh, yeah, Miss Normandy."

The door opened part way and a smiling bespectacled brunette's head appeared a little less than five feet from the floor.

"I figured we could catch some breakfast on the way to the testing and maybe I could answer any questions or concerns, or even - even boundaries to set before they begin, yes?"

The door opened more the longer she spoke, and the soft spoken, short statured woman that smiled so sweet was the same said person who had spoke short terse condemnations at the PRT officers and nurses when she found Flaco handcuffed and strapped down while they were still freeing him from the casts that once held him in the hospital. A few shades of coffee darker, a shock of silver in her hair, and a golden colored sandal in hand and she'd have been a worthy apprentice to his Abuela.

~~x

Flaco burped again and Ms. Normandy chuckled as she drove, "Big appetite all week and suddenly today you're green at the gills, Ray?"

"I shouldn't have finished your jelly biscuit after my cinnamon roll. Ugh, or all those hash brown tater tot things, oy. Ahh, I did have a couple questions."

Traffic was slow this morning and the traffic lights seemed to have longer and longer stops so Ms. Normandy took the moment to set the brake and faced her charge.

"Sure, go ahead Ray."

"So Youth Guard takes care of just the Wards - kid capes or like all kids with powers?"

"Oh, you're worried we're pushing you into the Wards program to do hero stuff?"

"Yeah, basically. I understand the PRT wants to test what I can do but it's not like when they drafted my Grandfather?"

"Oh, no no no, it's. Youth Guard, my organization, we watch out for minors with powers. We don't want you to be exploited or put in danger, in other countries some are turned into child soldiers to serve warlords and their governments. Youth Guard is neither part of the PRT or The Wards, we're non powered people worried about you - not your powers. Powers are not a reason not to have school or a childhood, and it's a reminder that you are still a person and are valued for you and not for what you can do. Okay?"

"And this testing stuff? There is going to be like cops and capes there watching me?"

Traffic started picking up as the lights changed and their van started moving again.

"Yes, you'll be observed by technicians who have studied and worked with dozens if not hundreds of other powered people, from kids to adults. And yes, I do believe a hero or heroine will be present from the Wards or The Protectorate teams to bring suggestions for exploring your powers you may not have considered. But most importantly it's not to recruit you into anything, it's to help you understand what you can do so you don't feel lost or - or scared of what you are able to do."

Her van pulled up to the PRT building, Department 24. She flashed her credentials at the parking lot security and they were let in. Once parked she fished in her purse and handed Flaco a foil and plastic sealed pair of caplets. "Here, Ray, they'll help your stomach. I really shouldn't have you take these as I'm not medical personnel but I'm sure you are nervous enough and don't want to be nauseous during the testing."

He grabbed his leftover bottle of Orange Juice and pushed the caplets through the foil wrapper and took them.

"No snitching here, Ms. Normandy, and I really do appreciate everything you been doing for me. It's been hard but nice having someone watch my back while I deal, ya know".

She smiled and they both exited the van, taking a very slick, tech heavy elevator down to a subbasement level. Ms. Normandy signed them both in at a security checkpoint and they waited a bit for their PRT escort.

Several minutes passed as they waited, the caplets had taken effect as he stopped burping and the urge to pass gas that hurt his gut abated. Solid clomping steps echoed through the hallway and first to arrive was a younger woman in her early twenties dressed somewhere between a Church Choir Singer and a Special Forces Operator. A set of special goggles sat on her forehead, an ornate gold and bone colored handle of a sword poked out from above her shoulder, bandoliers of different colored grenades and some kind of over large video game shotgun shells criss crossed her chest in a X shape over her silver with gold trim short robe that ended just above the tops of shiny black military style boots, and what looked like a grenade launcher covered in a few vinyl stickers with various chapter and verse numbers was slung over the other shoulder.

Just behind her was a swarthy, older gentleman with a bit of a gut in a heavily wrinkled suit. Clean shaven, and piercing blue eyes added an extra cold edge to the stern look on his face. The SWAT Choir member's eyes kept flicking to and away Flaco's face under the hood, her hand at her side rested a little closer to her weapon.

"'Ello, Ms. Normandy, Raymundo or be it Ray?" The older man's tone was far kinder than his stern expression.

"Ahh, I used to go by Flaco but since this is kinda formal Ray is fine, sir."

"Ray it is. I am Senior Technician Arkady Kuznetsov. Folks here name me by Arkady, for my last name is most common in Russia but I came here for share in your freedoms and meet capes on much happier terms."

Arkady offered the pair a disarming grin as if he practiced smiling without ever involving his eyes. The Senior Technician gave a casual gesture to his side towards the heroine.

"This is here Relic Quarry. She is most capable and is specialist in detainment and non-lethal capture of other capes. She will accompany us as we test the upper limits of your knowledgeable powers along with exploring any additional capabilities you have yet to tap. Please to follow to the testing chamber."

Arkady stepped away down the hall and Ms. Normandy followed after giving Flaco a pat on the shoulder urging him along.

"This is unreal", he murmured to himself.

"Yeah, it's no joke, brother."

Flaco startled as the heroine punctuated her statement by loading a round in her weapon. She offered him a lopsided tightlipped smile before motioning with her weapon for him to move on.

It was definitely going to be a long day.

~~x