A/N: Hellooooooo! So, I hope everyone receives this chapter well, considering I haven't really gotten a lot of feedback here. I understand, but I'd like to know how every one is liking this story, and what your thoughts are on it. Anyway, please excuse my sporadic posting schedule, I have been so preoccupied with school (trying to pass my last GED test), theatre (spring season of our folk life show plus our spring show—Footloose in case you're wondering) and everything else, I've had to neglect writing. But, thankfully with some immense help I was able to complete editing this next chapter.
Allow this chapter to introduce the next hero in our roster, Markus Danvers. The adorkable hero of alien proportions. Please read, and enjoy!
Disclaimer: Markus belongs to me! HE'S ALL MINE!
Chapter 6: Hero For Hire
Blue Ridge, Colorado. Saturday, June 17th, 2034. 6:46 pm.
The evening sun hangs low in the sky, orange beams just barely break over the mountain tops in the distance. The stray rays hit the glass doors Carol stands in front of, her bright blue eyes watching the grassy field in her backyard sway with the soft summer breeze. But no matter how peaceful her home in the valley looks from the outside, a war rages on the inside. A war spanning over ten years.
Markus, her 18-year-old son stands across the room, dressed as if ready for a journey with a hand clenched tightly around the straps of his fully packed duffle bag. The tall, young man watches his mother's stiff body shift in his direction, a tired look hanging on her features. The teen's hardened expression stares her down as he drops his duffle by the front door. Carol's eyes follow the bag as it drops to the hardwood floor, then glances back to her son.
"What's that?" she asks, even though she knows the answer.
The end of this war has been a long time coming. The pressure from their fights over the years have finally reached its exploding point and there is nothing to stop it. Nothing she can say or do to stop Markus from leaving. Carol knows he probably would've left earlier if not for him wanting to finish school. She had hoped his hesitation meant that he was considering staying, but now, she can see that's not true. Now, there's nothing standing in his way.
"Do you really need me to answer that?" With a stern glare in his emerald green eyes, he takes a step forward. "I'm gonna give you one last chance before I walk out that door," he says, pointing behind him.
"Markus, I don't know what you want from me—" she starts.
"How about the truth?" Markus interrupts. "You know that's all I've ever wanted."
Carol shakes her head. "I've told you the truth, you know the truth."
Her words force his squared jaw to clench, his hands at his sides curls into fists. "That's how it's gonna be, huh? You still think I'm not smart enough to see when you're lying to me? Mom, please. Don't make me do this, I don't want to do this."
"Then don't! Don't leave me, Markus," Carol pleas, her breaking heart audible in her quivering voice.
For a moment, Markus' hard expression softens, his shoulders relax as his stiff posture loosens. For a moment, he sees that this is breaking them both, and he knows that if he walks out that door, their relationship will dissolve completely. But he reminds himself of why he must leave. He refuses to be lied to when he knows in his heart and mind that she's not telling him the whole truth about his father. Markus is determined to find out one way or another. Angered resolve returns to his emerald eyes, while something in Carol's breaks. She's lost him.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, turning to face the front door.
Carol rushes forward to reach out and touch his shoulder, but Markus is already halfway gone. He stoops down and grasps his handles of his duffle, then rests a hand on the silver doorknob.
"Markus, please," Carol says, tears streaming down her cheeks. Markus stops turning the knob, shutting his eyes as his own tears begin to form.
"Goodbye, mom," he says. His hand twists the doorknob and he pushes the door open, stepping out of the house. He slams the door behind him, blowing air in Carol's face as she throws her fist against it. Unable to compose her emotions, she leans on the door, her crying now uncontrollable.
Through the door, Markus listens, finding it hard himself to keep it together. But a voice in the back of his minds forces him to press on, and he steps off the covered front porch. With his duffle secured on his back, the young man begins to glow a bright green, and he shoots into the sky. He flies straight for town and the bus station, leaving his mother and her lies behind.
Upper East Side, New York City, New York. Thursday, September 11th, 2042. 9:14 pm. 8 years later.
"I said you're holding back, she said shut up and dance with me!" Markus Danvers sings at the top of his lungs. The diner is empty and it's almost closing time, but the tall, muscular young man continues to hum his tune as he sways his body to the song playing in his head. He doesn't care if Mario can hear him in the kitchen as he cleans up for the night, or if he's missing any spots on the tables he's wiping. All that matters is that he's in a good mood, and that he's ready for anything tonight throws at him.
Except for the keys that just hit his back. "Hey!" he whips around. Thin and lanky Mario stands behind him smirking.
"You were supposed to catch them," he says. Markus rolls his emerald eyes and pushes his jet-black hair to the side of his forehead.
"Warn me next time, Mario. Or I might just throw them back at you." Markus leans down and snatches the keys off the freshly mopped, black and white checkered floor. "I take it I'm locking up?"
"Would you?" Mario asks as he's already out the front door. They both know it's his turn to lock up, but as Markus has been reminded all day, the young Mexican-Italian has a date tonight. "Don't wanna keep the lady waiting," Mario brags with a wink.
"Whatever." Markus tries not to laugh as he shoves his wanna-be-Casanova friend out the door, assuring the teen he'll take care of everything.
"Thanks, man!" Mario says, closing the door behind him. Now he has the diner all to himself.
"She took my arm, I don't know how it happened, we took the floor and she said!" he sings loudly and slightly off key as he finishes closing up his adopted family's diner for the night. The trailer type building emits a 1950's style theme, with a chrome bar, brightly colored booth seats and a jukebox in the corner. And even though the look is way out of style, the "Better Breakfast Diner" has been successful since before Markus was here.
The twenty-six-year-old remembers how kind the owners Annetta and Carlos Estevez were when Markus showed up at the diner about eight years ago. The parents of four boys offered the freshly graduated teenager a beneficial position, no questions asked when he needed it most. Markus will never forget that level of kindness, or the second chance it brought with it.
The man finishes tidying up the restaurant for opening tomorrow morning. He mentally checks off things in his mind while he unties the strings of his dirtied, white apron. Dishes washed, tables wiped, floors mopped, kitchen clean, bathrooms in order. He stops at the back door by the kitchen and scans the inside. "I know there's something I'm forgetting."
Markus pulls on his leather jacket and thinks hard. If he forgets anything, he could get in trouble. But, then again, it is Mario's turn, and if Markus happens to forget something, Mario will take the blame. As much as Markus is fighting his inner nice guy, he takes a quick walkthrough and realizes the garbage needs taking out. The young man sighs and picks up the two black trash bags sitting at the entrance to the kitchen, easily lifting the fully packed bags out the door.
He locks the door on his way out and tosses the bags in the dumpster behind the building. With the keys to the diner stowed safely in his jeans pocket, Markus smiles to himself. Finally, he thinks. I've been waiting all day for this.
Markus checks the short alley behind the diner to make sure no one is around for what he's about to do. His eyes drift down to his hands as they begin to glow with a shimmering green energy. With a smirk on his face, he looks upwards and his body shoots into the air. The green no longer glows just around his hands, but now consumes his entire body as he soars through the cloudy night sky. He continues to climb in altitude until the tallest of skyscrapers are hidden under the thick blanket of water vapor.
"Woo!" Markus yells as he speeds past a flock of birds. He quickly darts through the clouds, flying too fast for any moisture to stick. He dips down below the mist to see the city he loves lit up like a Christmas tree. Thousands of people walking around, completely unaware of the green, flying man watching them from above. But Markus only grins. He likes it this way, no one realizing he's watching or even that he exists. It makes it more fun.
Markus tries to keep his jacket from flying off as he moves himself into the Manhattan area. He looks down every so often to find a couple of people pointing up towards him. The man's emerald eyes widen, and he pulls back up into the clouds, resting for a moment. He hopes he didn't draw too much attention to himself. He certainly doesn't want to be mistaken for a U.F.O.
I'd probably be the best looking U.F.O. they've ever seen, he thinks as he flies towards the Empire State Building. At the very top of the towering beacon of New York City, he lands beside the needle, hanging on tightly to the chilled metal. The view from the top is breathtaking. You can see practically all of NYC from where he's perched. His green energy begins to fad as he takes in the scenery, sighing heavily while he rests. Markus shuts his eyes for a moment, and listens to the sounds of the city scape. Horns honking, thousands of voices talking at once, music from Broadway and clubs spilling into the streets. The sounds of New York City are almost as beautiful as the view. I wish everyone could see the city like this. Something about watching people walk through life from above makes everything else seem so insignificant. Any problem Markus faces on the ground disappears when compared to the larger than life city he stares down at. All of the built-up energy inside him slowly melts away and he continues his nightly glide over the city.
Within a few minutes, he finds himself flying past Stark Tower, and Markus wonders if any of the Starks are there this late. Most of the floors are lit, save few a few higher up levels. But as he eyes the tall building, he's reminded of his mother, someone that seems to join his flights often. He shakes her away and continues his path.
Markus had planned on flying straight home to his Harlem apartment, but a loud noise causes a split-second decision to change course. He quietly lands on a short apartment building in a small neighborhood, close to the East Harbor. Across the street is a pawn shop, obviously closed. But its flashing "buy and sell," sign shines through the front windows. Someone must've forgotten to shut it off, but they say advertising never stops.
For a minute, he only hears the sound of the shop's black cloth awnings flapping in the breeze. And just as Markus convinces himself it was his imagination, he hears a loud clang come from the shop. He flies in closer to investigate, landing in the alley on the other side of the shop. He steps lightly when he notices the side door ajar. Oh boy, he thinks. Here we go again. Markus, being the prepared young man he is, pulls something of out his jacket pocket—a black mask with its shape favoring a set of wings. He was hoping not to get involved with trouble tonight, but sometimes, it's unavoidable. And as the mask comes on, it's goodbye Markus Danvers, hello "hero persona that has yet to be named."
With his hands glowing and ready, he approaches the open side door. Markus cautiously peeks around into the pawn shop to find three guys clothed in black rummaging through the merchandise. One is at the counter in the corner to the right, trying to jimmy open the register with a screwdriver. Another is by a shelf full of the latest model holo-television emitters taking his pick, while the last one is to the left, busting open the door to the back office. Markus moves into the doorway and points a hand at the thug behind the counter. He shoots a burst of energy at the crook's hand, knocking the screwdriver to the floor.
"Ow!" he says, darting his head towards Markus. The guy by the holo emitters quickly looks to see what's wrong, then gulps hard when he sees Markus standing in the door.
"Hey guys, too impatient for the shop to open in the morning?" Markus says with a grin. He has both his hands aimed at the two guys, and waits for the third to come out of the office.
"What are you, some kinda mutant?" one of the guys asks. He stares cautiously at Markus' glowing hands, and the young hero notices a bead of sweat drip off the thief's face.
"You could say that." Markus pauses to think. "Well specifically, I suppose I'm not exactly a mutant, but I guess I can still be classified as one."
The two guy's eyes widen as Markus rambles on about powerful alien energy while the third thief finally bursts in. "What the heck are you guys doing—" he stops, eyeing Markus. "Who are you?"
"Your friendly neighborhood meddler," Markus says as he blasts the thief by the T.V.s, knocking him to the floor. The man behind the counter quickly whips out a gun and shoots at Markus, but the energy surrounding the hero consumes the bullets, simply adding to his power. "That wasn't smart."
Markus blasts the gun out of the man's hand, while the third thief lunges towards him from the left in an attempt to capture him. Markus evades him by stepping back, inadvertently tripping backwards in the process. He lands outside the side door, and is about to get up when he sees a shadow looming over him. He realizes the source of the shadow is beside him, wearing a set of canvas shoes.
Uh-oh.
Markus moves his eyes up past the shoes to find an arrow pointed at him by a tall girl in a hoodie. "Don't move," says the girl with the bow. Markus quickly lifts his hands in defense.
"Don't shoot! Don't shoot! I'm a good guy!" he squeaks. Suddenly he his legs are being dragged back into the store. He looks back towards the shop to see the third thief at his feet, and Markus kicks him away. He springs to his feet, moving just in time for an arrow to whiz past his back.
"We're on the same side!" he yells as he shoots a beam of green energy towards the two thieves jumping at him. They fall back onto the floor while Markus turns around to find another arrow trained on him.
"Not again," he says. He closes his eyes and prepares for pain, but instead the girl adjusts her aim just slightly so the tubular tip of her arrow flies past Markus' head. The arrow hits the two thieves about to grab him from behind and explodes into a weighted net, shocking them with electricity on impact. To two fall to the floor, while the third is still unconscious by the electronics.
Markus cracks open one of his eyes, and realizes the girl with the silver bow isn't aiming at him anymore. He heaves a sigh of relief and turns around to see the thugs trapped. "Was that an electric net arrow?" he asks.
"Yeah," she answers.
Markus takes a second to geek out over how cool that is, but then slowly turns his attention back to the girl. A stupid grin pulls at his lips as his excitement level soars through the roof. "Oh, oh my gosh. You're Eagle Eye, aren't you? This is so cool! I've heard so much about you, I just can't believe you're actually here right now."
Eagle Eye—the hooded archer—cocks her head, obviously taken aback by Markus' over-enthusiastic reaction to her sudden appearance. "You know who I am?" she asks.
"Of course I know who you are!" he says loudly. "You've been giving the thugs around here some serious trouble for a while. The gangs in Harlem talk about you all the time."
"Gangs?" she questions. "They talk about me?"
"Yeah, all the time. I live in a neighborhood that has a lot of gang activity and I sometimes listen in on their meetings. They complain about you a lot, which means you must be doing a great job." Most of the girl's face is hidden in the shadow of her hood, but Markus can swear he sees her blushing.
"Wow, thanks." She takes the compliment as if she's never heard one before. She looks past Markus at the three men laid out on the floor, and pulls some rope out of her hoodie pocket. "Here, we can tie them up with this and call the cops."
Markus looks at her with amazement in his emerald eyes. "Do you always keep rope in your pocket?" he asks. He snatches the net away from the two thieves by the front door, while Eagle Eye drags the third guy and lays him beside the others. Markus helps lift them while Eagle Eye binds their bodies together, back-to-back.
"These guys are a lot heavier than they look," huffs the hero.
"No kidding," the girl answers, surprised at his strength.
The two finish and the hooded heroine finds the alarm under the checkout counter. "Cops should be here soon."
Markus nods. "We probably need to go then."
The two heroes approach the side door, but Markus stops to look back at the incapacitated thieves tied up and sitting in the window, waiting for the cops to show up. A bubble of giddiness builds in his stomach at the unexpected help he's received and joins the archer in the alley.
"You were pretty good in there," she comments. "How come we haven't crossed paths before?"
Markus knows his expression must be a mix of blushing and blank because that's what he's drawing. Words won't come as he stares at the street-vigilante he's heard so much about. Markus never thought he would meet Eagle Eye, the mysterious heroine armed only with a bow and her skills, but so far, tonight has been full of surprises. Stop staring and just tell her who you are already, stupid!
"Um, right. That's probably because I mostly cover the Upper East side and Harlem. Oh, plus I'm new," he says with a sheepish smile.
Eagle Eye smirks. "Well new guy, do you have a name?"
Markus blinks. "Sure. Of course, I do..."
"And it is…?"
"Uh," he says. His eyes dart around, hoping to find something that will inspire a hero name. Then finally, he looks back to the girl and smiles, thinking of the only name he would ever want to be called by. "It's Mr. Marvel."
Markus notices Eagle Eye give him a funny look. "You're not by any chance related to Ms. Marvel, are you?" she asks, a curious tone in her voice.
The young man can hear his inner nice guy screaming at him again as he decides to lie to her. "Not that I know of," he chuckles nonchalantly. "Although I do have similar powers." More like exactly, he thinks.
The girl smiles and slings her bow over her shoulder. "Well, I've got a large area to cover tonight, so I suppose I'll see you around Mr. Marvel."
The way she said his name makes Markus grin goofily. "Yeah, sure! Definitely will see you around…" He thinks for a moment as Eagle Eye begins to walk down the alley. He can't just let her walk away. Imagine the things she could teach you, he tells himself. He anxiously nibbles his thumb nail while he decides if he's going stop her or not.
"Hey, Eagle Eye, wait!" he calls after her. She turns back to him as he jogs to meet her. "I know you said you have a lot of ground to cover, but I was just wondering, I mean, if you'd be cool with it…I totally don't want to be in your way but—"
"Yeah?" she asks, prompting him to sort through his jumbled mess of words.
"Would you mind so much if I tagged along? Just for tonight, you know. Show a newbie a few pointers?" The girl bites at her bottom lip as she considers having a sidekick for the night.
He wishes he could hear what's going through her head. Did she think he was really cool and mysterious? Did she want to work with him at all, or did she think he was a hopeless newbie in need of serious social training? There is no way to tell from her silence, but as the moments turn into minutes, Markus starts to wonder if he's just being a bother.
"I don't know, Marvel. I've got a lot to do," she starts.
"Exactly! I can help you on patrol, and you can show me how you do things," he invitingly suggests.
The heroine watches his excited expression and Markus can tell she's caving as his intense emerald eyes stare at her expectantly. "Well…I guess another set of eyes wouldn't hurt." Markus gasps happily and looks as if he's about to explode into one, huge burst of green party confetti. The urge to fist-pump comes on but the girl holds up a finger to him. "But! On my terms and only for a few hours."
"Sure! I'll do whatever you ask! Your wish is my command." He grins and raises his eyebrows enticingly, making the girl snicker.
"If you can keep up, that is," she says. The girl abruptly jumps up on the fire escape attached to the building beside them and begins climbing until she reaches the roof. Markus, in awe, watches every twist and turn her body makes, seemingly with ease climbing to the top within a few seconds. She hits the roof with a roll, then looks back down at him.
"You coming?"
Markus smiles as he knows he must be falling in love and flies up to the roof. He lands next to the hooded heroine as she tells him her plan of attack. "I haven't patrolled the Upper East Side in a few nights, so let's do that."
"That's a large area to cover, trust me, I know," Markus comments.
"Then let's start at South Central Park, and go from there." They both nod in agreement. "Okay then. Race you!" she says. The girl bolts and jumps over the gap between the building they stand on and the next.
"You're on!" Markus yells. He too takes off, but in the air instead of on foot. He waves down at her as he flies overhead and she speeds up.
Markus can't think of a time when he's had so much fun on patrol. But then again, he's never patrolled with another hero before, and this new experience is one he's sure to remember. As he flies past tall buildings and follows the street to the south end of Central Park, he scans the roof tops to find that Eagle Eye is nowhere in sight. She's probably fallen behind. Markus shrugs as he sees the park up ahead.
He lands in the grass and sits in one of the several benches lining the corner. The young man combs the new wind-blown look he's acquired out of his jet hair with his fingers.
"What took you so long," Eagle Eye says behind him. Markus jumps up and whips around to see her dropping out of a tree, brushing some leaves off of her jacket as she steps towards him.
"How'd you get here so fast?" he asks.
She offers a simple answer. "I ran." Markus decides not to question her further. "There's street behind this main one, that's where we'll start."
"You think we'll see a lot of action?" Markus wonders aloud.
"Well, it's Thursday and not a holiday, so I think it's safe to say that pawn shop was the highlight of our night."
Our night, Markus muses. He's pulled from his thoughts when he realizes she has disappeared again. "Oh, come on." He picks up his body and flies towards the back street she mentioned, only to find her crouched and balanced on the ledge of a bookstore's roof like a sparrow. At this point, Markus isn't sure if he's impressed with her or terrified.
"Warn me next time you disappear, birdy," he says, landing beside her.
"Keep up next time, fly boy," she remarks. Eagle Eye slowly scans up and down the street below them, Markus' gaze following everywhere the girl's head turns. They watch and note every cat running by, every car that passes down the street, and every piece of garbage floating on the breeze.
"I live close by," Markus thinks aloud, breaking the silence.
"Okay now, let me stop you there," Eagle Eye starts. "I know you're new to this heroing thing, but there are certain things a hero doesn't share. Especially sensitive information that could possibly reveal his or her identity."
"Not even with other heroes?"
"Especially not with other heroes and cops," she tells him. The serious tone in her voice convinces him, but he wonders if the harshness in her words means she had to learn the hard way.
"Okay, then disregard what just I said," Markus says, chuckling. He glances to the girl and examines what little bit of her face isn't hidden in the shadow of her hood. The green-eyed hero notes how the sharp point of her chin curves up into her soft peach lips. The defined edges of her nose wrinkle when she smirks, and smile lines give her an approachable vibe. Whoever she is under the hood, Markus believes she must be beautiful.
The two are quiet as Eagle Eye keeps an ear and an eye out for any movement around them. A few minutes turn into thirty, and all this quiet is too much to handle. "So, what made you wanna become a hero?" Eagle Eye asks.
"Isn't that the sensitive information we were just talking about?" Markus comments.
The girl by his side laughs. "Unless you tell me your full name, address and phone number, then no, I think you're safe."
The young Danvers nods and decides to tell her a short version of his story. "Well, it was sort of an accident," he starts, rubbing the back of his neck.
Eagle eye sits down on ledge, one legged propped up with her arm draped over it. She turns towards him with an interested expression. "Please, do continue."
He takes in a breath. "Well, my powers are really strong, and during my civilian day, I don't use them. I don't have a need for all that energy. But because I don't, all of that energy builds up in one big bubble in the pit of my stomach. And after a while, it starts to hurt. The less I use my powers, the more it builds. So, at some point in every day I have to release that energy by using my powers." Markus props his elbows on the ledge and waits for her to say something.
"Wow, that makes having powers a lot less enticing," she says.
"Yeah," he agrees. "So, I was out flying around one night—releasing energy—when I stumbled onto bank a robbery. Luckily, I at least had a handkerchief with me to cover my face, but as soon as my hands started glowing, those guys bolted."
Eagle Eye lets out a laugh that says she's familiar with the cowards you meet doing this job. "That sounds right. It's funny the lose their courage when a powered hero gets involved."
"So," Markus says through the laughter. "Why did you become a hero?"
Suddenly the laughter stops, and the rooftop stills to an uncomfortable silence. The girl, once relaxed now sits up straight and stiff and looking out across the street. Markus notices the extreme shift in the atmosphere. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I'm sorry, I just thought since…well, I mean," he stammers.
"No, it's okay," she says. But Markus can tell it's not. "It's just…it's best we leave that story for when I know you better."
"Does that mean we'll see each other again?" Markus smirks slyly.
"We'll see," she says, looking back out towards the street.
After about ten minutes of being perched in one place, the two move on to another block, covering half of East Side in about two hours. But as they move from building to building, look out to look out, the night seems to slow down around them. Any other day of the week, Markus would've at least seen two to three robberies by now, but as the clock strikes three a.m., the only action they've seen was the pawn shop at the edge of midtown. Markus considers asking Eagle Eye if she wants to call it a night yet, but something tells him to wait it out a little longer. His gut seems to think the night isn't over yet.
The two vigilantes stop on a low-rise apartment building across from a gas station. The old, two-pump station looks dated and well used, yet the convenient store behind it appears brand new. Most everything is quiet and dark, save for a security light shining down from the overhead cover above the gas pump.
"Well, this is about as far as my boundary goes," Eagle Eye says.
Markus nods, scanning the rest of the two-block radius. "I guess it's a good thing we haven't seen anything."
The girl shrugs. "Yeah, but doesn't it seem a little odd? I know it's just Thursday and all, but it's—"
"Too quiet?" Markus offers. "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing."
Markus and the heroine take one last survey of the area before deciding to head back down town. Eagle Eye has already turned around and hopped on the building behind them. Markus' feet lift off the roof and he follows her until a noise like breaking glass stops him. He darts his head back towards the gas station and spots a figure dressed in black busting through the store entrance. I knew it, I knew something was gonna happen, he thinks.
"Eagle Eye," Markus calls in a hushed voice, waving her back.
The girl vaults back onto the apartment roof and joins Markus by the ledge. "Well, looks like it's not so quiet after all."
"We need a plan," he says. He flies down to the street with Eagle Eye right behind him. The two quickly and silently run across the street and take cover behind an old junk car parked by the service station connected to the store.
"I'll take the back entrance, get the jump. You take the front, but try to keep outta sight until I've got the back covered," the girl says.
Markus nods. "Got it. Do not engage."
And with that, the heroine jets around to the back of the store, while Markus carefully approaches the glass door that leads into the store's front. The darkness of the store and parking lot gives him all the cover he needs as he crouches by the door. He peeks in at the figure inside—a tall, slender man—that has his back to Markus as he rifles through cabinets underneath what looks like a lottery ticket counter. The masked hero reaches for the door but recoils his hand when he notices that the plexiglass door has been busted through. A small hole big enough for a hand to fit through by the pull handle, obviously done to unlock the door from the inside. But everything about the break looks weird, the glass on the door is thick, too thick to punch through without getting a cut up hand but there's no blood on the glass.
Curious, Markus thinks. He moves on from the break and gently pulls the door open, slipping in the store quietly then ducking behind the snack aisle, still crouched down. The sounds of the man slamming doors and throwing things around tells Markus that he's still unaware of his presence in the store. The element of surprise is on his side. Markus decides to get a closer look, so he scoots forward, cautiously inching up the aisle. The sound of the back door clicking tells Markus that his partner has arrived and probably has an arrow ready. He wasn't the only one who heard Eagle Eye. After the click, the crook's movements silence. Markus stops at the end of the aisle, and panic sets in when he finds that the man is no longer behind the front counter, or anywhere for that matter.
"Uh-oh," Markus mutters. His head spastically darts around in search of the man, but it seems he's disappeared into thin air, that is, until Markus hears heavy breathing behind him. The hero's eyes turn back just in time to see the man swing his fist down towards him. Markus jumps backwards as the man's hand slams against the floor, an impossible force behind it cracking the concrete. His eyes widen as he scrambles to his feet, yelling for Eagle Eye out back. The girl busts through the back door, an arrow already nocked as the man lunges at Markus.
"Marvel, get out of the way!" she yells, aiming for the crook's head. She jumps up on top of the back aisle, but she's unable to get a clear shot without taking him down with the thug.
Markus tries the shake the black-clad man, but then he stays right behind him. Markus shoots a blast of green at the thug in a desperate attempt to gain some ground. It hits him square in the chest and knocks him back a few feet, but the guy rises as if it didn't affect him.
The hero's jaw drops with his shoulders. "Aw, come on!"
The thug walks towards Markus, his meaty fists clenched and ready to fight. Markus takes a step back, lifting his arms in readiness to combat the thug. His hands begin to glow as he takes a swing at the guy's face, but the man lifts his forearm to block it. In turn, the man throws a punch at Markus' gut and the painful blow sends the hero flying across the store in a green blur, hitting the front counter with a crash.
"Marvel!" Eagle Eye yells, releasing the arrow from her bow. The tubular tip of the arrow attaches to the man's back as he walks towards Markus. The tip sends 50,000 volts of electricity through the man, sending him crashing to the floor in a smoking, twitching lump of flesh. The girl sails over the man's body and slides on her knees beside Markus' limp frame, her hood flopping back as she lands.
"Marvel, Marvel are you okay?" she asks, propping him upright against the counter.
Markus grasps at his stomach, doubling over. "Anybody get the license plate of that truck," he manages. He relaxes his head against the counter, keeping his emerald eyes fixed on the man a few feet from him.
"You're okay though, nothing broken?" Eagle Eye asks, touching a hand to Markus' injury.
"Ow!" Markus flinches, pushing her hand away. He looks up at girl, surprised to see her face not covered up by the shade of her hood. Oh no, I was right, he thinks. She is beautiful.
The girl's eyes look at him with concern through a pair of orange lensed goggles, golden hair falling out of her ponytail in loose strands around her face. Her cheeks are rosy from running around, and the tiny beads of sweat on her forehead make her glisten. Markus, unable to mention her hood has fallen back looks away, trying to refocus on the fact that his ribs are probably bruised...maybe cracked.
"I think I'm okay, but you—your face," he says, focus his eyes away.
"It doesn't matter," she says, throwing her bow over her chest. She rises to her foot and approaches the man on the floor.
"Hey, be careful," Markus warns. He clutches his stomach as a wave of nausea hits him. It'd been a while since pain had made him nauseous.
Eagle Eye gives Markus a look that tells him she knows what she's doing. The vigilante stoops down beside the thug and presses two fingers against his neck, checking his pulse. "He's out."
Markus stifles a sigh of relief through the pain.
"But I don't know for how long."
And we're back to freaked out again, Markus thinks.
The girl stands and walks around the man's body, scanning him and the store around them. She steps over him and walks towards the lottery bar he was rummaging through when they came in. Markus keeps his eyes on her as she investigates, raising his brows every time she makes a thoughtful "huh."
"What is it?" Markus asks, pain shooting through him as he twists to watch her.
"I don't know. I do know that shock won't keep meat hooks over there out forever, so we need to get out of here," she says, walking back towards Markus.
Markus' eyes glance at the body face down on the floor, Eagle Eye's following. "What do with do with him? We can't just leave him here."
The two stare at him for a moment before Eagle Eye pulls something out of her pocket. "Don't worry, I've got it covered. I need to make a call, don't go anywhere."
Markus chuckles, then regrets it when a striking ache grips his torso. Like I can go anywhere. "Who are you calling?"
Eagle Eye looks back at him with a smirk on her peach lips. "I know a guy."
She pushes the entrance door open, crunching on broken glass as she walks just out of earshot. Markus keeps his eyes locked on her wondering how this night turned out like this. Pretty sure I have some internal bruising, just saw Eagle Eye's face, and this guy no bigger than me threw me across a convenient store. Not an ideal night, but it's better than a sitting at home doing nothing.
Markus' gaze falls back on the thug in front of him, still lying knocked out and face down on the floor. An eerie chill crawls up the hero's spine just looking at the man, knowing that if he'd gone toe to toe with the overpowered thug, Markus' could've gotten seriously injured—more so than he already is, anyway. Uneasy just sitting here, Markus' attempts to stand, gripping the counter to as he hoists his body off the floor, pain shooting through him with every move.
Halfway up Eagle Eye runs back and wraps a petite arm around his back with her other arm slinging his over her shoulder. "We need to get out of here, the cops will be here any second."
"How'd you manage that?" Markus wonders.
The girl looks at him with a smile. "Like I said, I know a guy. Now come on, before sunshine over there wakes up."
The two vigilantes hobble out of the store, Markus' leaning on Eagle Eye for support. They make it across the street and hide in an alley between two buildings as police sirens sounds down the block. Eagle Eye takes the two of them well out of range of being seen, and allows Markus to stop to rest.
"Thanks for lugging me around," Markus jokes. He wraps an arm around his stomach as he props against a brick wall.
"No problem," she says, walking back down the alley to check on the crime scene. "I think we're out of sight."
"So," Markus starts. "I don't want to brag or anything, but I know I'm strong. Born like that...but that guy, that guy would've killed me if you hadn't shot him."
"I know," she answers, looking down thoughtfully.
"What are you thinking, maybe a mutant?"
"I don't think so. When I was looking over him, I got this weird smell off him."
Markus raises a brow. "How could you get past the smell of singed hair and burnt cotton?"
The girl laughs. "I've learned to sniff past those smells. No, what I smelled was some sort of chemical. Like a cleaner or something."
"A cleaner?" Markus asks, skepticism audible.
"Well not specifically, but something."
The hero nods, his eyes following Eagle Eye as she paces back and forth in front of him, her hood still hanging on her back. "Hey, what about your face? Did the security cameras get a shot of you?"
She shakes her head. "When I was behind the counter I noticed that the lines to the cameras had been cut. Whoever he was, he didn't want to be seen either."
"So, the cameras were off, he smelled like chemicals, and has super strength. What does any of that have to do with the lottery counter at a convenient store?" Markus wonders, finally relaxed enough to straighten up his body on his own. The faint sound of police sirens grow louder, a blue and red flashing glow coming from the gas station's direction.
Eagle Eye narrows her eyes behind her goggles. "The cash register didn't look like it'd been tampered with, and there wasn't anything else missing, so…"
"So, you think he was looking for something?"
"I think that I want to get a better look at the scene," she says, pulling her hood back over her head.
"Wait," Markus wraps a hand around her arm. "You know the police have surrounded the area by now, maybe you should wait until things calm down."
At first, the girl shoots him an angry glare, but then her expression relaxes when their eyes lock. "You're right. We'll just have to come back another time." She starts walking down the alley, Markus right behind her.
"We?" Markus echoes.
Eagle Eye rests a hand on Markus' shoulder. "If this whole thing has something to do with something, we need to figure it out. And besides, we started this together, so let's figure it out together. You want the best for this city as much as I do, right?"
"Right," he agrees.
"Right. So, let's make it happen. And we'll start with further investigating this incredibly suspicious break in."
The two stop in the alley, the girl's hand still on Markus' shoulder. The hero's emerald eyes peer past the hood and orange-tinted googles, and sees someone like him. A goodhearted person wanting to make a difference with the special abilities only they possess. Not to mention she's amazing, he thinks. How could he pass up something like this? She's offering a potentially awesome team-up that could turn into a legendary partnership, and the more he thinks about it, the more he wants it. The more he wants to do this with someone like him.
"What do you say?" her voice beckons.
Through the pain shooting up his midsection, he cracks a smile. "Let's do it."
Eagle Eye grins under her hood. "Great. Now this isn't a partnership or anything, it's just when I start something, I want to finish it. And you took a hard hit tonight, you wouldn't have done that unless you care."
"Well, I'm certainly feeling the care," he says, rubbing his stomach.
The girl shakes her head and chuckles. "Will you be okay, getting home I mean?"
"Yeah, I think so." Markus lifts himself a few inches off the ground to test the air. "I might not fly at top speed, but I'll be okay."
"Good. We should probably give the crime scene time to settle down, but I say we meet back there in few nights," she says.
Markus nods, mentally figuring how long the police might be one the scene. "What about Saturday night?"
The suggestion is met with panicked reaction from the girl standing beside him. She refuses to meet Markus' eyes as she obviously contemplates. "If Saturday isn't okay we can—"
"No," she interrupts. "Saturday night is…is fine. I'll meet you at the gas station." And with that, the girl jumps up onto a fire escape and climbs up the metal stairs until she disappears on the rooftop.
Markus scratches his head. That was weird, he thinks. Shaking off the odd parting, Markus carefully flies up towards the sky. He leaves the alley below him behind as he slowly makes his way towards East Harlem, gripping his ribs the whole flight home.
Apartment 12b, Building 4, East 119th Street, East Harlem. 4:15 am.
Markus lands on top of his apartment building, then to best of his ability, crawls down onto the fire escape stairs drilled into the brick. On the top floor, he pulls open the window he left unlocked that leads into a long hallway of doors. Once he gently slides himself through the window, he closes it back, and tip toes toward the end of the hall, hoping not to alarm Mrs. Lebowski, his ancient neighbor. Old bird has the hearing of a canine, he thinks. His fingers root around in his jacket pocket for his keys, silently hoping they didn't fall out on the fly home. He reaches for his royal blue painted door and finally drags out his keys. He unlocks the door as quietly as he can and shuts it behind him, locking down the ten different locks on the inside of the door.
Markus turns around, happy to see his cramped apartment for once. With the kitchen sprawled out to the right, and his tiny living room to the left, he sheds his leather jacket. He pulls off his mask and tucks it into his jacket pocket, then drapes it over his black futon's back. He walks into his bedroom and kicks off his converse. He starts to pull off his t-shirt, but winces halfway as he stretches his wound. Markus picks up a set of pajamas at the end of his bed and heads into the bathroom across the short hall, a hot shower calling his name.
Several grunts, flinches and a poorly sung Journey song later, Markus is out of the shower. With a pale green towel wrapped around his waist, he picks up a smaller towel to dry his jet hair. The steam from the hot water clouds the small mirror over the porcelain sink, but Markus' wipes a streak across the middle to see purple and yellow bruises already beginning to form right above his naval.
"You've gotta be kidding me," he says, brushing a hand over the bruise. "That's really gonna hurt tomorrow."
He finishes drying off, dresses in his sleeping clothes and cleans up in the bathroom—drawing the shower curtain, hanging up his towel, singing another song to himself.
He continues to hum as he steps into the next room, what he considers his office. The song he hums is one of Bon Jovi's, a song Markus loves. Wanted, dead or alive, the lyrics run through his thoughts as he approaches his desk in the middle of the back wall. He runs a hand on the old, wooden desk's surface, keeping his emerald eyes glued to the wall in front of him.
There isn't much to the beige-painted room. A couple of book shelves butt against the corner wall, both filled with records, magazines, comic books and action figures. Some old band posters are scattered on the walls behind Markus, all classic rock bands from sixty years ago. But the point of interest in this normal room is the wall that Markus is staring at. The wall above his desk is covered in pictures, news clippings, and sticky notes, all connected by red string wrapped around thumb tacks.
Markus rests his hand on the back of his desk chair, leaning his weight on his arm. His emerald eyes carefully scan every piece of information mapped out on his wall, catching on certain images, but focusing on the center of the chaos—a picture. Of him as a toddler being held by his mother and the man she insists was his father. A tall, pale-skinned man with dark green eyes and raven black hair, a squared chin and defined nose. The man's features resemble Markus' own—he can't deny that. But a faint memory of his father—one of a handful still fresh in his mind—tell him that's not his father.
He sighs heavily, a tired weight hanging on his chest. He started this search when he left Colorado eight years ago, but he is no closer to finding the truth now than he was then. Markus thought it would be easier to find out about a man so involved with the Avengers, and S.H.I.E.L.D., but whoever he is or was, he must not have wanted to be found. Mom always said he was an important man, but why would he hide everything about himself? Why would he and mom make it so difficult to know the truth? These questions have echoed through Markus' head so many nights before, but tonight, he's too tired and too sore to entertain them further. Sleep is a requirement tonight, whether he wants it or not.
The lyrics of the song roll back into his mind. Wanted, dead or alive.
Markus crosses his arms. "I know you're out there somewhere. And I may have met someone tonight who can help me find you." Markus grabs a pen and a sticky note pad from the desk. He writes out a name on the highlighter yellow paper, then sticks it to the wall. The note reads Eagle Eye, the hooded beauty. The hero nods at the mess on his wall, but stares at the new addition.
"I will find you dad. I promise."
A/N: So, thoughts on Markus? Personally, I think he's precious, but then again, that's just my biased opinion. Drop me a review with your questions, comments or concerns!
Up Next: The Asgardian Princess.
Hey I just posted this...and this is crazy...but since you've read it...review it maybe?