Chapter One Hundred and Seventy Four
...
Yichen winced as he looked at the mess of the cogs and springs that had become of the machinery that made the bed and mannequins work. After a few minutes, he closed the machinery door and stood up. "It's a mess in there. I'm not going to try to attempt to fix it. It's not really a big issue with the squeaking, anyway," he added on seeing Magnus' guilty expression. "It wouldn't be the first bed that squeaked because of super sex," he added with a straight face, just to see Josie splutter.
Josie went bright red and glared.
Yichen smiled broadly. "Of course, as it was your son's actions that caused the machinery to break, you are the one liable and required to replace the parts. I'll be calling a super mechanic to fix the machinery. The bill will be sent to your address on Sky High's file."
"You can't do that!"
"Yes, I can. It was on the permission slip that both you and your son signed," Yichen replied.
Josie clenched her jaw. "This whole exhibit is disgusting and will be closed by the end of the day, anyway! I refuse to pay for something that's not even going to be seen by citizens," she said, rolling her eyes. "You've received the cease and desist from my lawyer, I assume?" she asked, arms crossed over her chest.
"Yes, I have. As I told Mr. Ackerman: this exhibition is created with the public's education in mind, and therefore, I can display your images as you are public superheroes. I have agreed to remove the layer displaying your secret identities, though my claim still stands that you should've thought about choosing a different business name if you wanted to distance yourself from Captain Stronghold," Yichen added.
"Is everything all right here?" Jared asked, frowning when he saw Yichen and the small crowd around him and the mechanical bed.
"Everything's fine, Jared, just dealing with a squeaky bed. You know what they say about parts that squeak - "
"They get oiled," Josie said, rolling her eyes.
"No, they get replaced. They're obsolete parts within an otherwise functional machine. If something squeaks, it's because that part is worn down and... tired," Yichen said, giving Josie an obvious side eye.
Josie clenched her jaw. "Group One, we're leaving!"
Jared watched as Josie practically flew out of the exhibition, the rest of the group hurrying after her, then looked at Yichen. "What was that about?"
Yichen smiled. "I don't like my lunch break being interrupted by closed-mind people who think sex is disgusting."
Jared raised an eyebrow. "Right."
Yichen shook his head and waved him off. "Don't worry, I know I'm being petty this time. It's not a repeat of freshman year, I promise."
"So says you. I swear I'm still finding glitter after that so-called petty revenge," Jared said with a shudder.
He'd moved interstate, overseas, had completely replaced his wardrobe, and he still found the odd granules of glitter here and there. He hadn't even been Yichen's original target!
Yichen snickered and picked up the museum toolkit. "It was petty. Real revenge doesn't involve glitter."
...
Victor made his way through Labyrinth, heading to Honey's office, his walking cane hooked over his forearm and his briefcase in the other hand. It wasn't late enough in the day for his limbs to start aching yet, thankfully. Not to mention the full body massage and mind blowing orgasm Connor had given him that morning. If he knew how to do a cartwheel, Victor probably could have done one at that moment. Knocking on Honey's door, Victor waited for Honey to respond. Impatient after almost a minute, Victor knocked again.
"Come in, Victor," Honey called.
"Why didn't you answer - you have company? Jesus, Honey, just tell me to wait outside next time," Victor hissed at her, glaring.
Honey rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to get you to meet someone in person and face-to-face, which has been surprisingly difficult to organise. Uh-uh, stay where you are and introduce yourself."
"This is a shitty way of introducing myself," Victor muttered under his breath. "Hi. I'm Victor, Honey's soon to be ex-friend because she does weird shit like this," he said brightly to the woman sitting across from Honey with her back to him and not seeming to have an inclination to turn around to face him.
"Hi, Victor. Why do you consider this weird? People talk on the phone all the time without seeing the other person's face," the woman said, her tone practical and unhurried.
Victor blinked. He recognised that voice and the tone was familiar, too. "Doc?"
The woman turned and grinned at him with amusement colouring her features. "I thought it would take you a few minutes longer to work it out. What gave it away?"
"You have a distinct voice, Doc, I told you that," Honey said with a grin.
"What are you doing in Maxville? Are you visiting?" Victor asked, moving to sit on the seat beside her.
"Before you two start, can you answer your phone, Doc? The buzzing's killing my ears," Honey said, waving at her.
"It's considered rude to look at one's phone when in conversation," Doc said, raising an eyebrow at Honey.
"It's important in this case. We'll wait," she said.
Doc frowned slightly, but unlocked her phone to look at the message. "Oh, it's from Drago. You're sure it's important? His last text was a picture of... oh, it's a video."
"Go ahead and play it, Doc. Fair warning: we might need Victor as a lawyer sooner rather than later," Honey said.
Victor's curiosity was piqued enough to watch the video playing on Doc's phone, his jaw clenched when he saw the child being bullied by Will Stronghold. Just because he was stronger than everyone else, it didn't mean he should push people around!
"Hmm... maybe I should've called Eliza. No, that would lead to a shallow grave. Okay, let Drago know you've seen the video and have witnesses. Poor Magnus needs someone who'll stick up for him. You two can organise lunch while I look ahead for him, can't you?"
"Honestly, Hourglass, you need to work on your social... she's already in a vision, isn't she?" Doc asked with a sigh.
"Yes. This happens all the time, don't worry about it. How do you feel about Chinese food?"
"Who's paying?" Doc replied with a grin.
Victor laughed and grabbed Honey's purse off her desk. "If I know one thing in life, it's that Honey always has enough money to pay for Chinese food."
Doc looked at the glazed expression on Honey's face, considered the friendship between Hourglass and Victor, then nodded. "In that case, Chinese sounds good to me."
...
Magenta's throat was starting to get sore, but she didn't mind. Wendy was a great listener and she felt like their friendship was even stronger after all this communication. She smiled at her friend broadly, then turned her attention back to the Super Women exhibition. Magenta looked at her answer, decided it sounded good enough, and passed the workbook to Wendy.
Wendy saw her movement from the corner of her eye - thankfully, Craig had worked out how to temporarily deafen her, or else she would have fried Magenta by now - and took the offered workbook. She frowned on seeing Josie Stronghold walking into the Super Women exhibition with Group One nowhere in sight. "What's she doing here?"
Her question was probably louder than she intended with her ears blocked, and Wendy realised she'd drawn the attention of several other Heroes and Hero Support, all looking over at Josie in a mix of confusion and concern.
Josie smiled brightly on seeing their attention on her. "You caught me! I just wanted a quick sneak peek at my... uh, that is, the Super Woman exhibition."
"Super Women," Tilda corrected.
She was one straw away from breaking the camel's back, and god help her, Josie would be a straw made from goddamn titanium.
"Yes, yes, of course. But we all know who they mean," Josie said absentmindedly, looking around the room for her statue or photograph or even a hologram. Maybe the floor had pressure sensors again?
"Are you looking for your section, Josie?" Magenta offered helpfully. She stepped forward when Josie looked over to her, a few of her peers looking curiously. She couldn't help but feel important at that moment: she was allowed to call Jetstream by her first name.
"Oh, Magenta, dear. Yes, thank you. It is a large section, isn't it?" Josie asked, almost worried now on seeing the frames - all equal sizes, and far too numerous to be just hers.
Perhaps they were individual frames about each of her different conquests?
Magenta's proud feeling fell to her stomach like lead. "Uh... let's just go look, shall we?"
Josie forced herself to smile rather than frown, and followed Magenta towards the back of the room. The back? What on earth was her frame doing all the way back there? She should be at the front, right in front of the doorway!
Magenta could practically feel the anger radiating off of Josie and wished she hadn't been so quick to step forward and show her. At least Wendy had followed, a few steps back from Josie, and looked supportive when Magenta looked at her. Her heart was hammering in her chest, a sudden fear making it guinea-pig fast, and she smiled at Josie weakly. "Here we are: Jetstream: the Golden Years."
Josie was aware that several of the children were watching her, and prepared herself. She was a professional and she could do this. It was just like getting a new award that she didn't really need: smile, breathe, thank her supporters, and move on to a night of tiny food, inane gossip, and so many photos her eyes would still be aching the next day. Stepping forward to the frame, she looked at the box inserted into the wall and the scene it displayed of one of her memorable "Golden Years" fights. Josie blinked and then frowned at the sight.
It wasn't one of her more recent fights, as she'd expected. In fact, it wasn't even a fight within the last ten years. It wasn't a fight she'd done with the Commander, so it was almost (gulp!) twenty years ago now. This was before she'd received fame and fortune by being by the Commander's side, when her hair hadn't been professionally styled, when her suit was a touch more provocative than professional, and she had beaten the villain by accident rather than skill.
"These are my golden years?!" she exclaimed in surprise, her tone high-pitched enough to pop Wendy's ears.
Damn it, Wendy thought with an obvious wince, Magenta seeing her expression.
"There are others," Magenta said quickly. "This is just the earlier one. You have, uh, five frames, I think?"
Josie felt her shoulders relax at the information. "Well. That's more like it. I'm sure you have work to do, I can find the others on my own," she said, dismissing Magenta as she read the information included with her box frame thing.
Wendy grinned as Magenta made her way over. "We've finished answering our questions. Want to see what happens when she finds the others?"
Magenta's eyes widened. "Wendy! We can't, that would be mean," she hissed.
"Oh, I know, I'm awful. C'mon, I want to see Buffalina's frame again. She's awesome," Wendy said, loud enough so Josie would hear.
Magenta's eyes widened, and she grabbed Wendy's arm to go further into the exhibition so Josie wouldn't see them.
Josie sniffed and straightened her outfit as she straightened up. There wasn't nearly enough information about her and her achievements. Still, she had five frames, and surely the other women only had one. She'd have to check, of course, she mused, continuing to the next frames with determination. Five minutes later, Josie was struggling to keep her smile in place. Lady Peregrine had three frames to herself! How did she even get that much work?! Besides, she wasn't even a true female with the whole bird shifter thing, Josie thought in disgust. Buffalina, a nobody from Chicago, could turn into a buffalo, and the only reason she was famous was because she'd stopped a toxic vat from spilling onto a tour bus; no one liked tourists, anyway, so it wasn't even that impressive. There was even a frame for Queen Kamehamayhem, which was borderline insulting since it was completely separate from Jetstream's second frame about defeating King Kamehamayhem in Hawaii. At least she had been with the Commander by that point and had a proper stylist, though her suit was still being adjusted at that stage in her career.
The frames for international superhero women like Chatte, Gátaki, and Koneko made Josie grind her teeth. She had been the one to defeat the villains in those countries, not them!
Her eye was twitching by the time she saw the frames for supervillain women. Several women from the Ninety Ninjas had their own frames, when they only should have one since they were part of the same villainous group. Even the Trident Triplets had three frames - one for each triplet. It was outrageous to separate them like that! Besides, supervillains didn't deserve to have their faces in a place as prestigious as a museum when she, Jetstream, was all the public wanted to see!
That stack of feedback forms she had taken was slowly getting thinner with each frame she passed, and Josie was up to her third frame - and almost finished with the whole exhibit! - when she heard her name being called over the PA system.
"Can Josie Stronghold please return to Group One? They have been waiting for their assigned adult for almost ten minutes now, and your son has broken yet another exhibition piece," Yichen said over the museum's PA.
He knew exactly where she was, of course, but he got a perverse joy from putting the call out through the whole museum. In the monitor where Group Ten were, he could see Jared glaring up at the nearest camera, and Yichen grinned broadly.
Now, that was petty revenge.
...
"You can stop fussing, Bobby, I'm fine," Bertie said, reaching back to pat his hand.
"I'm not fussing, I'm looking after you, dear," Bob replied firmly as he pushed her wheelchair through the building's doorway and into the foyer.
"Ah, you've arrived. We've been waiting for you. Welcome, I'm Sport, and Honey's asked me to show you to your apartment. My friends and I will help bring your boxes and belongings up to the apartment so you don't need to do anything, apart from settle in and relax," Sport said to the elderly couple with a smile.
"Oh, hello. Are you sure?" Bob asked in surprise.
"Positive. Now, would you like a tour or to go straight to your new apartment?"
Bertie looked at the young man, looking up and up and up at him. "My god, you're tall."
Sport grinned at her. "Thank you. Are you ready to see your new apartment?"
"Ooh, yes. I saw the brochure, and I'm looking forward to seeing all of those features. Is it true that the spa bath has a door?" Bertie asked eagerly.
Sport nodded. "It does."
"Did you bring your things in a truck or car? We'll get it sorted for you. We might even finish unpacking before Sport finishes talking," Champ said, grinning.
"Oh, there's a truck. We hired removalists, but they charge by the hour. I was going to help," Bob said, looking from his wife to the growing number of large men beside Sport.
"You've got an apartment to settle into and yourselves to look after. We'll do the heavy lifting," Kid promised with a smile.
Champ, Kid, Baby, Ex, Killer, and Buddy introduced themselves, all pleasant and smiling despite their intimidating sizes. If they'd got on his bus, Bob was sure he would have had the terrified sweats in a matter of minutes. They looked like they could lift the truck with ease, never mind their belongings! Bertie didn't seem to have his fear - she rarely did, it seemed - and introduced herself with a happy smile and started chatting about flowers with Killer, of all people.
Outside, a truck pulled up in the loading bay in front of the building. Bob looked over to see that it was their moving truck that should have arrived before he and Bertie did, considering they'd left half an hour before they had.
"Now, before we get started on the tour, do you have anything in your car? Suitcases, bedding?" Sport asked.
"Oh, yes, but it's a few boxes of books. My Bobby's a reader," Bertie said, smiling and patting his hand.
"Nice. Any favourites?" Sport asked, guiding them over to the elevator as his friends went out to deal with the removalists who didn't seem to be in a hurry to actually move anything.
"Too many. I've probably forgotten most of them by now," Bob added with a smile.
Bertie snorted. "You're still sharp as a tack, dear, don't be modest."
Sport asked a few questions that made Bob think he was actually interested in what he had to say, so he replied and kept talking about the books he'd read, his favourites - Jane Austen, among the many; he was a sucker for a well-spoken and outspoken woman, just like his Bertie - and even recommended books to Sport. By the time they arrived at their apartment level, Bob felt like he'd overtaken the conversation entirely, and tried to keep quiet. His son-in-law was always complaining about how he talked too much, and Bob knew he could talk people's ears off if he was too excited and didn't curb his enthusiasm. Most people didn't mind too much on the bus routes, probably because they could get off the bus and escape, but as a result Bob didn't usually have a captive or interested audience for very long. Layla, Warren, and their friends were some of the few that he chatted with without an ounce of self-consciousness because they actually seemed interested and asked questions, just like Sport had.
"Ah, here's one of your neighbours. Lexie, this is Bob and Bertie. They'll be moving in across the hall from you. Bob, Bertie, this is Lexie, one of our newest residents. She lives with her brother Lex, and grandson, Alex," Sport introduced with a smile.
Lex followed Lexie out of the apartment, locking it with his thumbprint.
"We're getting neighbours, Lex. This is Bob and Bertie. Nice to meet you both," Lexie said, smiling briefly.
The day had hardly begun for her, and she was already tired. She'd had chemo the day before and it always took time to recover, her body feeling more and more exhausted each time.
"You, too, Lexie. How new are you to the building? Do you like the apartment? What's the spa bath like? Can you really just roll in with your wheelchair?" Bertie asked eagerly.
Lexie blinked at the barrage of questions and energy the other woman had. "We moved in last week. Or was it the week before? It was recent," she added, frowning as she tried to remember.
She remembered the house she'd lived in. Lexie had lived in that house for the last thirty-five years and even though it was old and never warmed up in winter and was always boiling hot in summer, she'd made so many memories there. Her husband had lived and died there, her children had been born and grown up there, and her dear grandchild had only known that house for his whole life. Well, until they'd had to move to that awful apartment near Westville to be closer to the hospital for her treatments. Lexie remembered the guilt she'd felt when Alex had agreed to move; the house was too old and couldn't be updated to include space for her wheelchair, she couldn't walk inside with the nooks and crannies and steps, and the second storey had become a no-man's land when she couldn't even make it up to the first landing without feeling like she was going to collapse.
They'd rented out the house to a small family to help pay for Lexie's medical bills and moved into a small two-bedroom apartment in the interim. Unfortunately, the building's elevator wasn't exactly moden, and there were days when the elevator broke down and she had to wait hours to leave. Thankfully, Lexie had never been caught in the elevator when it had been broken. The apartment itself had been tiny with two bedrooms that were small enough already, even before Lex had been released from prison and moved in with them. Her poor brother had spent years in prison, sleeping on a thin and uncomfortable bed, and going from that to sleeping on their couch wasn't exactly the welcome she'd hoped to give him. Lex hadn't once complained, and he'd refused Alex's bedroom, too. She had been relieved to move into this new modern apartment with three bedrooms and features that could cater to her in a wheelchair or with a walking frame.
Realising his sister was focused or had forgotten the rest of Bertie's questions, Lex took it upon himself to answer. "I like living in the apartment. I haven't used the spa bath yet, I'm afraid I won't want to get out," he added with a grin. "I think the door opens wide enough to fit a wheelchair, though I don't think Lexie's tried it for herself yet. There's a gym on the ground floor, if that's something either of you are interested in."
While he'd been in prison for as long as Lexie had lived in her house, the one thing Lex could say was that he'd kept fit in there. There wasn't much else to do besides exercise, read, or mope about with a bravado he hadn't felt since he was Alex's age. With the latter option long gone, he'd done the first two to excess. He missed talking with Ivan some days, even though despite the amount he'd read, there were times he could hardly keep up with the younger man's ideas.
Bob took a moment to look at the other man properly, and noticed that he did have muscles. They weren't huge like Sport or Champ's, but he certainly didn't have the loose skin that Bob could feel on his own body. He didn't know how to say he had no idea how to exercise beyond walking or perhaps aqua-aerobics without feeling embarrassed.
"Oh, I wouldn't know what to do there. I've heard there's access to the roof, though. Do you think we can get permission for a garden up there?" Bertie asked, looking between Lex and Sport.
Sport grinned. "There's already one up there. I'll take you up after the tour of your apartment."
"Told you we'd unpack before Sport finished talking!" Champ called with a laugh, stepping out of the elevator with three boxes in his hands.
Bob had helped lift the boxes into the truck and knew that they weren't light, but Champ was making them look like they were filled with nothing but air and packing foam.
"The building's security is second to none and I say that as a completely biased member of the Security team," Sport said with a grin and winking down at Bertie. "We have a bakery, which I'm sure you saw or definitely smelled on your way in. There's a jewellery store owned by Gemstone herself and run by Gemma; and the bodega corner store is owned by Frank. It's also 24/7 access with your swipe cards, just leave a note for Frank stating what you're taking so he can replace it. I can introduce you to him and his wife later."
"Hi, Gran. Is everything all right?" Alex asked, looking between Lexie and Lex, his hand gripping his school bag strap tightly.
"Everything's fine, Alex. We got caught up meeting our new neighbours, so we didn't get to the bus to meet you on time. This is Bob and Bertie," Lex introduced.
"Oh, hello, dearie. I adore your hair," Bertie said, moving to the left and right so she could see the individual coloured spikes standing on Alex's mohawk.
Alex grinned. "Thanks."
"Do you want to join us on our tour? We can have a cuppa and cookies afterwards as a welcome party. That's one of the boxes in the car," Bertie added.
"Brought the best boxes with you, eh?" Buddy asked with a laugh, going past with two more boxes.
"We might need an unpacking party, too. I thought we got rid of things when we downsized, Bobby?"
"We did, dear. Then we bought more things," Bob said.
Lexie let the conversation wash over her, closing her eyes as another wave of exhaustion flowed through her and left her feeling even more hollow than before. It felt like only seconds passed, but when Lexie opened her eyes, they were inside Bob and Bertie's apartment, and Sport was handing the couple their access cards.
"Sorry, I must have dozed off. Did I miss anything?"
"Sport and Lex are comparing protein powders, you didn't miss a thing," Killer said, grinning.
"Ooh, just look at that bath! You won't need to lift me into it anymore, Bobby! If we didn't have company, I'd be rolling my chair in there right this minute," Bertie said eagerly.
Bob grinned; he didn't doubt his wife would be doing that later. "Of course, dear. Can we see the rest of the apartment now or do you need more time in the bathroom?"
"I think I can work out the rest of it. Blue is cold and red is hot, and they're labelled with Braille, too. Is that part of the design, or do you know something I don't?" Bertie asked Sport, looking up at him curiously.
"Part of the design. We got them in bulk, as there are other residents who are blind, and these colours work best for those with colour blindness," Sport added.
"Interesting. Is the building full of people with disabilities, then?" Bertie asked bluntly.
"Bertie!"
"What? It's a valid question, Bobby."
"There are a varied mix of people, both abled and disabled, ma'am. I'll show you the kitchen now. There's a manual on how to use the various gadgets in the apartment, but most are simple enough: green for go, red for stop. See the button here on the bench? You can lower and raise it. Not the one with the sink, but that sink does open to a wheelchair-friendly height. There's also a dishwasher drawer. I'm sorry, it's not even my apartment and I'm getting excited about it," Sport said with a laugh, rubbing the back of his head.
"No need to be sorry, dearie. Isn't it exciting, Lexie?" Bertie asked, smiling at her broadly.
"Yes. I just need a few minutes to rest, and then I'll have more energy," Lexie said with a weak smile.
"It's okay, Gran. I'll take you to your room instead. You need to rest. The chemo made you - "
"I know, Alex. I was the one who had chemotherapy," Lexie said, tired and short-tempered all of a sudden. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."
"I know, Gran. You always say I have to work on my bedside manner. I shouldn't tell you what you've been through or what you're feeling. Sorry," he said, kissing her cheek and squeezing her shoulder gently before wheeling her back to their apartment and through to her room. Alex was especially glad for the wider doorways and hallways where he could manoeuvre her wheelchair without hitting walls or other solid objects.
Lexie was exhausted and she hadn't done more than move her arms in what felt like hours. "I'm going to sleep now, dear. I'll be as excited as Sport when I wake up."
Alex grinned. "Honestly, Gran, I don't think anyone could be as excited as Sport is right now."
Lexie made a breathy laugh, struggling to stand with her hands on the wheelchair armrests. Alex hovered, but Lexie hardly noticed as she half collapsed, half leaned on the mattress. A warm blanket covered her and a cool pillow was under her head, and those were the last sensations she had before falling to sleep.
Alex waited to ensure his Gran was asleep before moving her wheelchair to its designated spot next to the walking frame. With that done, Alex carefully undid his Gran's shoelaces and slipped her shoes off. He left his Gran's room and closed the door behind him quietly. He was concerned about how fast she'd gone from awake and alert to exhausted and asleep. She hadn't even changed into pyjamas or taken her shoes off, the latter of which she'd berated him for as a child. He set her shoes by the front door, then headed back to Bob and Bertie's apartment.
"Is Lexie okay?" Lex asked.
He nodded. "I think she's just tired and needs to sleep. I'll call the hospital later and see if they've got her latest blood sample results. Vitamins might help restore her energy, depending on what the chemotherapy has done to her blood cells and body this time around."
"I'm a match for bone marrow, if Lexie needs it," Lex said suddenly.
Alex straightened, frowning at his Great Uncle. "How do you know that? That's not something most people randomly know, Lex."
Lex frowned. "Lexie had aplastic anemia as a child; I was the only match out of our family."
Alex felt like his stomach had dropped all the way back down to the foyer. "What? Why... it's not in her medical history."
"She was young, I doubt Lexie even remembers, except for the jello they gave her during recovery; it was yellow and they didn't even serve that to us in prison," Lex said, wrinkling his nose. "As for her records, the hospital caught on fire when Captain Stronghold caught a villain, and I don't think they had upgraded their records to computers by then. It was a few weeks before my arrest so I wasn't paying a lot of attention."
"Shit, I need... phone, shit, where's my phone? Aplastic anemia impacts the blood cells, which are affected by the chemotherapy. Even benign or cured, it could still cause issues if they're... shit. Thank you," he said quickly, taking the offered phone from Sport and dialing the hospital's number he knew off by heart. "Gertie? Oh, thank god you're still there. I need to talk to Dr. Grey about Gran, it's important."
"Did you understand any of that?" Bob asked Lex quietly as Alex paced from the front door to the lounge window and back again, Bertie and Sport watching him go back and forth from the kitchen bench.
"Yes. Lexie's childhood illness may be affecting the chemotherapy she's getting now as an adult. I haven't practiced as a doctor for a long time, but I read enough to keep up to date on a lot of the new medical advances. I helped the inmates when the guards refused to take them to the medical bay."
Sport frowned. "That's not legal."
"We're super villains, Sport; they didn't exactly care if we lived or died due to a small infection. Most of the guys in there couldn't power down naturally, so when they were forced to power down with the cuffs, they didn't know that they had to be careful with their fragile human bodies. Rockman cried for three days after he got a splinter."
"Ooh, I remember Rockman. Didn't he have rocks for hands?" Bertie asked.
"Yes. Feet, too, but he wore shoes so most people didn't know that. The new weight distribution was the hardest for him to adjust to; it took a long time for him to be able to walk without the extra weight on his limbs."
"Wow. What about someone like Phaser? Her power was internal, wasn't it?" Bob asked curiously.
"I haven't seen her in years. She was taken away when Stare Flair was caught."
"But I thought Stare Flair surrendered so she could be with Phaser?"
"That's what she said, but they weren't going to agree to a villain's demands, even one that had surrendered and was imprisoned for life. The only reason the Spinner Sisters are still together is because they tried to separate them and one of the poor girls almost died; they need to be in a certain proximity to each other if they're wearing cuffs. Without the cuffs, they can be countries apart apparently, but the guards weren't going to take their cuffs off and risk them escaping as a result. Killing them off wasn't an option, though I'm sure they considered it."
"I don't remember the Spinner Sisters," Sport mused.
"They might have been arrested before your time," Lex admitted, trying to gauge Sport's age from his face alone.
Alex stopped pacing and handed the phone back to Sport. "Thank you, Sport. Dr. Grey is going to review Gran's file and see if there's any indication that the aplastic anemia is returning."
"I hope it's not," Sport said, taking his phone and tucking it back into his pocket.
"Do you mind if we postpone the welcome party?" Lex asked, seeing that Alex was already distracted and not likely to be in a social mood while his brain was focusing on his Gran.
"Of course not. We'll get everything unpacked and send you all a proper invitation," Bertie said warmly. "It was lovely to meet you."
"You, too. Welcome to the Sanctuary," Lex said, gently guiding Alex out of the apartment and back to theirs instead.
"Now, would you like to see the rest of the gadgets in your apartment? I can't promise that I won't be excited about every single thing."
"Show them how the kettle works first!" Kid called over his shoulder.
Bob and Bertie both looked over at the unassuming kettle in confusion.
"He's right. It's not a kettle, it's a disco ball with an alarm," Sport chuckled. "It whistles and lights up when the water's boiled," he explained.
"We discovered that the hard way on our first morning here," Killer said. "It took Champ ten minutes to work out how to turn the volume down on the damn thing."
"I was going to throw it out of the window, but Killer wouldn't let me," Champ said, rolling his eyes.
Sport ignored them and showed the kettle to Bob and Bertie. "There's a switch and a button on the bottom. Press the button to turn the lights off, and move the switch to change the music. Oh, and the volume is this dial. It's all protected from the water and the electricity, of course, but I highly recommend you make sure your hands are dry before playing with anything."
"We're old, not stupid, Sport," Bertie said, raising an eyebrow.
Sport held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "I know you're not. Now, other highlights of the kitchen: the fridge lets you see inside without actually opening the door, and there's an electric shopping list that connects to the building's ordering system. Just add what you want, it'll be brought in boxes the next day, and we'll bring it up to you when it arrives."
"Wait, what? That wasn't in the brochure," Bob said, frowning in confusion.
"There's a lot of things I couldn't fit in the brochure," Honey admitted from the doorway, smiling when they all looked at her. "Sorry I'm late for the tour; I had an interview with Zona that ran over time. She can talk when she wants to."
"Who's Zona?" Bertie asked curiously.
"A friend I interview far too regularly for Labyrinth. I should really see if she'll go on the payroll instead. Hmm, can you continue with the tour while I message her?"
"All right. The lounge room is up next. There's electronic recliners and they have cup holders!" Sport said, leading the couple to the lounge area.
Honey finished sending her text to Sorcha about being made a regular on the Labyrinth radio show and gaining permanent employment. She was about to step forward when she realised that she needed to look back instead, and smiled when she saw Finn and Phineas waiting patiently at the doorway. "Hey, you two. What can I do for you?"
Finn looked to Phineas, nudging him when he didn't say anything. "Phineas, you promised."
He sighed, unfolded his arms from his chest, and looked up at Honey. "Could we get furniture? And a bed?" Finn nudged him again. "Please?"
"Of course. I'll send the catalogue... wait, Zero's got it for you," she said with a grin. "Act surprised, would you?"
Finn grinned back at her. "Sure. Can we ask you a question about the future?"
Honey slipped her phone into her pocket, considered her responses and their questions, then nodded. "What do you want to know?"
"When can we leave the building?"
Honey looked along the current threads and possible futures, determining whether her answer would help or hinder. Realising that their question wasn't the question they really wanted to ask, she answered, "If you listen to Andy and Barney to catch up on your citizen studies, you'll be able to go to Sky High with Corvin in less than three months. If you don't listen and fall behind, you won't be able to go to Sky High."
Phineas folded his arms across his chest again. "Goddamn it to Super Hell; we already know all the things we need to know!"
"So you know... your seven times table? What's seven times six?"
Phineas glared. "I know how to kill someone in three-hundred and twelve ways."
"Congratulations, that's three-hundred and eleven more ways than you need to know. You still don't know your citizen studies to be able to pass Sky High's newest entrance exam."
"What exam?" Finn asked, frowning. "Corvin's never mentioned one."
"They've never had one before. It's Principal Powers' newest way to try to deal with the dichotomy between Hero and Hero Support; I'm still not sure if it will work, especially as the hero and hero support tracks will still exist. It's possible that it's just going to add to the class separation on a whole other level. I'll get Zero to look into it for me. But if it does go ahead, you'll need to pass your citizen studies as well as super ones. Either way, you should know basic math at the very least; you don't want to try to rob a bank and lose money, do you?"
Phineas and Finn both perked up. "We get to rob a bank?"
"That's what you take from all of that?" Honey said with a sigh. "Again, you need to pass your citizen studies first."
"Ugh. Fine," Phineas muttered.
"We need study desks if we're going to study properly. Oh, and stationery! Do you have pretty pens?" Finn asked eagerly.
"They're in the catalogue with the furniture and bedding. Not more than ten-thousand dollars each, please," Honey said, even as Finn started to tug and guide Phineas out to the hallway so that they could get the catalogue from Zero.
Alex had decided to go for a walk so he could work out his energy without disturbing his Gran, and heard Honey's voice in Bob and Bertie's apartment. He waited until the two bald kids had left to draw Honey's attention.
"Hi, Alex. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. I heard there's going to be a medical clinic opening here. Do you know if they'll take me on? I can handle the front desk if they don't want me assessing patients. Is it something I can ask freely or do I have to rob a bank first?" he asked, a grin twitching at his lips.
Honey laughed. "You've already done your time in prison, Alex, I think that covers it."
"Oh, and is there a hairdresser in here along with the bakery and jewellery store? I want to get my mohawk fixed up; it's growing on me. Literally and figuratively," Alex said with an outright grin now.
"You're all comedians today, hey?" she muttered, rolling her eyes. "I'll get someone in by the end of the week, okay?"
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Really, that's it? I just ask and you do it?"
Honey snorted. "Fuck, no. You ask, and if it's reasonable or I can see another need for it - and with nearly thirty kids with their hair growing back, we'll need it - then I'll organise it. It still relies on other people saying yes, though."
"Thirty kids? What the hell is this place, Honey?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. He'd seen the kids around during Halloween, of course, but had assumed most of them were visiting people in the building. Not to mention, he'd kind of been distracted by Ryuu.
"A sanctuary," Honey replied, so serious for the moment that Alex didn't quite know how to respond to that. Then she smiled, and looked at him. "I promise you'll have a job with my pharmaceutical company the minute you graduate high school. In the meantime, I can offer an internship for you, fully-paid, of course. I'll send details of that, too."
"Wait, what? I wasn't asking that. You don't have to pity - "
"Who said anything about pity? You're good, Alex, and I want you for my company before anyone else tries to get you. Your talents would go to waste at Maxville's Local Chemist, and both you and Dr. Arthur know it," Honey said kindly.
Alex tried not to immediately agree to one of the worries that had been plaguing him since receiving Dr. Arthur's offer. He knew that Dr. Arthur had offered him the job for two reasons: one, he knew that Alex would find it difficult to get hired now that he had a mark on his citizen's record, even if he'd won the court case, and two, Dr. Arthur really did think that Alex would be good for the pharmacy. His only stipulation was that Alex would become a qualified pharmacist, rather than go on to be a fully-fledged doctor. Alex still hadn't told Gran about the offer, mostly because he wasn't sure how he felt about it. He wanted to work as a doctor and help kids and maybe even cure cancer. Becoming a pharmacist meant it would take less time to get a degree, but it also meant giving up on his dreams.
"The company I own means you get time to work on your own side-projects; I adhere to a 70-30 work mindset, and you'll have access to the facilities during that 30 percent. Your dream to become a paediatrician will happen eventually; the pharmaceutical internship will help you understand drugs and their potential side-effects in person. We offer both citizen and super trials, all volunteers and with a full understanding of the risks that medical testing brings." Honey realised she was starting to sound pushy and winced. "I'll stop overwhelming you and send an email later, okay?"
Alex swallowed hard, overwhelmed by so much information all at once when he'd just wanted to ask about the medical centre. "Thanks, Honey."
...
Tate felt emotionally exhausted by the time he and Frieda had left the hospital. Etta was having a bad day. She had done physical therapy that day, her pain was more intense, and her failure at moving even just her toes made her want to curl up in a ball and cry, but she couldn't even do that properly without control over her legs. She'd smiled and faked happiness as soon as she'd seen Tate, and then belatedly Frieda, but he knew his sister and he knew that she wasn't doing well. The drugs she'd been given muted most of the emotions she felt, but devastation like that was stronger than any human-made medicine. He hadn't told her about the bills or the lawyers or the decisions doctors kept trying to put on him without an ounce of sympathy or even ensuring he understood the implications. They threw medical terms at him like baseballs, and he might catch one, only to be hit with a barrage from the rest.
He was grateful that Frieda had been there. She had a no-nonsense attitude about her, demanded the doctors leave him alone to spend time with Etta, and had practically stood guard at the door to give both of them privacy. Etta had told Tate about the journalists that were hounding her - one had even dressed up as a doctor to try to get in her room - and had spent a few minutes finally crying out her frustration and anger and devastation. She was tired after that and encouraged him to talk about his day instead. Tate had told her about the museum, grinning when the bed and mannequin story made her laugh briefly, and promised to take her when she was feeling better and out of hospital. Etta had squeezed his hand, reminding him of their parents' funeral when she'd stood beside him and squeezed his hand so tight that his fingers had been numb for hours afterwards. Now, however, she barely had enough strength to leave a mark on his skin. He couldn't bring himself to talk much after that, and Etta was tired after her emotional day, so he'd left within the hour.
Frieda hadn't said anything as he left Etta's room with red eyes, simply handed him a small pack of tissues, and led him through the hospital to the parking lot. "Traffic's bad, so we'll take the scenic route, okay? Feel free to sleep and recoup," she offered with a gentle smile.
Tate didn't even care that the traffic was light, just nodded, and closed his eyes to sleep.
...
Heidi glanced to the back seat when she realised it was quiet, and not because of her hearing aid. Zach was signing to Ethan, fingers and hands moving fast, concern etched across his face.
"Don't eavesdrop, Heidi," Anita admonished lightly, glancing in her rear view mirror to see Ethan still looking vaguely nauseous and Zach worried.
"But I'm worried. What happened? Why aren't you talking?" Heidi asked, looking back at Zach and Ethan once more.
"Eth has a bad headache, Heids, that's all."
"Then why were you asking about the museum? I'm not an idiot!"
"Didn't say you were, Heids. It was a big day," Zach said with a heavy sigh.
"How was the museum? Did you learn anything?" Anita asked curiously, overtaking a car, and turning into their road.
"Yeah, lots. Like how Becky's homophobic, and Brandon's trying to get on Will's good side by having his mother flirt with him, and Will's nothing but a bully with the backing of the world's most beloved superheroes," Zach said. "Though, I guess we already knew the last part."
Anita pulled into their driveway, putting the car into park so it was sitting idle with the engine still running, and turned in her seat to look at Ethan and Zach. "What?"
"Mrs. Stronghold made apologies for Will and accepted them on behalf of the bullied parties without letting them say anything in response. It's been an emotionally exhausting day, Ma. Can I go inside now, please?" Ethan asked.
"All right. I'll call the school when we're - "
"No. Ma, please. It's... it's not going to solve anything. Where her son is concerned, Mrs. Stronghold believes he can do no wrong. Nothing we say or do will change her mind, and it's a waste of effort when we can do other things instead."
Anita frowned at Ethan's speech. "What other things?"
"Ma, please... don't ask."
Anita swallowed her questions down with some effort, then sighed and turned around in her seat, finally turning off the ignition. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, wishing there was more she could do to earn their trust in this. "You know you kids can tell me anything, right? There's nothing you can say or do that will make me stop loving you."
"We know that, Anita."
Anita looked over at Heidi in surprise. Some part of her had suspected that her daughter was in on it, too, but she had prayed and hoped otherwise. She forced herself to smile and not show her disappointment, especially knowing the statistics for the life expectancy of villains. Kids who wanted to save and change the world didn't have the same idea that adults did of how cruel the world could be, nor how easily they could depart it. One wrong move and she could lose them all. The thought brought tears to her eyes and Anita held her hand to her mouth, trembling.
"Anita?" Heidi said, her eyes wide and innocent and devastated all at once.
"You... you need to promise me you'll be safe. Okay? All three of you. I can't... " The words felt like they were being ripped out of her. She desperately wanted it to be different, to know what she could say or do to make them choose another path, but she didn't. "Please. I can't lose my babies."
Zach wrenched his seat belt off and threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around Anita and the back of her seat. "We'll live, Anita. Promise."
He couldn't promise that, no one could - not her or him or anyone - but Zach's fierce determination almost made her believe that he could. She clutched his arm around her, sniffling and trying not to sob outright. She would be supportive, even if she hated it entirely, and she would do whatever she had to do to keep her babies happy and safe.
"I need a minute. I'm okay, I promise. I just... need a moment to come to terms with it all, okay? Can you, I mean, if you're allowed, can you take me to the person in charge? I have a few things to say to them," Anita said, thinking of the dressing down she'd give them.
She might not be a super, but just wait until she got her hands on this creep! Kids had a sense of invincibility that adults could no longer understand or possess, and this creep was using her babies' lack of fear to further their own agenda! They were using her children and she would make sure they rued the day they had manipulated them into doing this.
...
" - father of five is still missing, as well as a local tattooist and his wife. These three are missing, feared dead. If anyone has seen these missing people, please call the number shown on the screen."
Layla looked away from the news as Frieda opened the door, turning the TV off when she saw a teenager from Sky High with her. "Hello, Frieda. Why do you have Tate with you?"
"You know my name?" Tate asked in surprise.
"I was in the hero support track for a year and a half, of course I know your name," Layla said with a smile.
Warren looked between Frieda and Tate, his hand clenched in his blanket at the piercing pain from the vines. "Why are you here?"
Tate swallowed hard at the rough voice and tone, wondering what he'd done to make Warren Peace angry.
"I told you that you needed a nap, Warren," Layla said lightly, raising an eyebrow at him.
He scowled at her. "I'm not a child, hippie."
"You're acting like one right now."
"Like you can talk; you've refused to go outside all day."
"All right, that's enough from both of you. I brought Tate here to meet two leaders, not two arguing children," Frieda said firmly.
"Layla hasn't been outside in almost a week, and refuses to go without me, even though I can't walk on that shitty sidewalk right now," Warren groused.
"I said I'm fine to wait."
"You need to go outside, hippie; your power is goddamn outside!"
"You think I don't know that? I want to wait."
Frieda sighed and shook her head. "Would you mind waiting outside for a moment, please, Tate dear? I need to be a parent right now, and it might influence the way you see these two."
Tate grinned briefly. "Like this hasn't already? I'm good to wait here, thanks."
Frieda nodded and walked so she was standing between Layla and Warren's beds. "Stop this ridiculous behaviour this instant!"
Layla and Warren both stopped arguing, looking at her in a combination of surprise and shame.
"Layla, go outside for a walk: Warren is right, you need it for your own power and your own health. Whether you want to go out on your own or with Warren is irrelevant when your own health is at risk," Frieda added firmly. "And Warren, you can stop looking so smug, you're in the wrong here, too. You were almost beaten within an inch of your life, you depleted your power to beat them, and you are on extremely strong drugs to help your body repair both internally and externally after almost being crushed by a building. That means you need to rest when you feel tired, not put it off and try to act brave. The same goes for you, Layla. You might look well, but you haven't rested nor meditated like you promised you would, and your mental health is just as important as your physical health."
"Sorry, Frieda," Warren said, his cheeks red.
"I'm sorry, Frieda," Layla said, her embarrassed gaze focused on the blanket on her bed.
"Good. Now, this is Tate. I met him today during the museum excursion and think you'll be good for each other. Tate, my adopted daughter, Layla and her boyfriend, Warren. Honey should be here shortly."
"I'm here now. I was just waiting for you to finish berating them. It would have been awkward with another witness," Honey said, closing the door behind her.
"As long as it works, I don't care if the whole of Maxville sees," Frieda said.
Honey raised her hands in a gesture of peace. "I know. It worked, I promise. Now, Tate, I know you don't know me very well, but I brought you a gift."
"'Course I know you, I was fucking pregnant with you," Tate muttered, not quite under his breath.
Layla and Warren looked at each other in confusion, but Honey just grinned and rummaged in her bag, pulling out a clear bag with fabric inside it. She ripped the bag open carefully and held it out for Tate. "Gloves off and hands out, there you go. Fresh off the press," Honey said with a wink.
Tate's confused by her words, but then the black gloves hit his hands and there was... nothing. No history, no backstory of a random person's life, no weird things like pregnancy or arguments or rage or emotions about things he'd never even considered before. They were blank, for all intents and purposes. The relief that filled him was the same sort of relief that he'd felt when he'd found out his sister was alive.
"How? I... I've never had anything without it before. Even my baby clothes were... well, it was kinda fucked up, I'm not going into it," Tate said, pulling the gloves on.
"I don't want to imagine," Layla said with a light laugh.
"Now, why don't you tell us why you're here?" Warren asked.
Tate looked over to Layla and Warren. Gone were the teenagers, the berated and embarrassed children, and before him were leaders ready to assess his usefulness and loyalty.
...
Zach was uncharacteristically quiet at dinner that night, the blonde boy's silence worrying Richard, and he looked between Zach and Ethan and Heidi, then over to Anita. She shook her head, then looked down at his cooling dinner, and he scooped up another mouthful dutifully.
"How was everyone's day?" Richard asked cheerfully.
Heidi started signing eagerly about Stevie racing someone on rollerblades, or maybe it was a kid whose feet could turn into rollerblades? Richard watched with a grin as she imitated the kid rolling down a hill and Stevie winning the race to the applause and cheers of everyone.
"Wasn't his father an Olympic medallist for running?" Ethan asked, thinking of the family traits shown in the exhibition, of families known for sailing and weaponry, of rocks forming and wind blowing, and perhaps running or speed could be another power but not one they advertised like Speed had.
"Ethan!"
Blinking, he realised that no one else knew what he'd actually been thinking about and how his words must have sounded. "I... I just thought Stevie could go on to the Paralympics. Wheelchair racing is a well-known sport," Ethan added quickly.
Anita didn't look entirely appeased, but gave a brief nod. "Go on, Heidi dear."
Ethan stayed quiet for the rest of the meal, the conversation becoming nothing more than background noise to the thoughts in his mind.
"Ethan?" Zach asked, waving a hand in front of his face when he didn't respond. "Uh, can we be excused, please?" he asked Anita and Richard.
"All right. We'll put the dishes in the dishwasher tonight; you can empty it in the morning."
"Yes, Anita. Thank you, love you, bye!" Zach said, guiding Ethan out of his seat gently and curling an arm around his waist to help him upstairs to their room.
"What's going on with them, Annie? Zach was far too quiet and Ethan... well, he can be that quiet, but not like that," Richard murmured, frowning.
Anita sighed. "I wish I knew."
Zach closed the door behind them, setting Ethan down on the bed. "Hey, Eth. C'mon, look at me. Please?"
Ethan blinked, slow and languid, and frowned when he realised he was in his room. "How'd we get up here?"
"I helped you upstairs. What's going on? You're freaking me out, Eth," Zach said, running a hand through his hair.
Ethan sighed and buried his face in his hands, far too reminiscent of how Zach had found him in the museum. "That section of the exhibit you found me in. There's... there's more supers. Before Captain Stronghold. I've been thinking non-stop since I found out and I'm only just starting to wrap my head around it, but... I think there's a source for our powers."
Zach frowned, head tilted to the side. "Yeah. The Great Toxic Waste Spill of 1955. Everyone knows that."
Ethan looked up and shook his head. "No. Before that, before random citizens could do extraordinary feats, before... before Super Jesus."
Zach's eyes widened. "Whoa. Eth, you just... you don't do the blasphemy thing. Ever. What the hell?"
"I know. It goes against everything I was led to believe. Everything I thought I believed... No, I can't think about that right now. I may actually go insane," he said, fingertips pressing into his cheeks firmly.
"Can you try to explain? Y'know, kinda like a Source of all our Powers for Dummies explanation?"
Ethan licked his lips. He usually learned better when he had to reformulate the information in his head to then parse it in a way others understood, so maybe that process could help now.
Zach waited for Ethan to reply, trying to be calm and stay still. Whatever this thing was, it had resulted in his boyfriend voluntarily missing out on school work. He needed to be calm to understand it properly, and stay still for Ethan to not get distracted.
"All right. Sit with me?"
"'Course," Zach said, sitting beside him and waiting once more, watching as Ethan tried to piece everything together in his head.
Ethan started to talk and Zach listened, concentrating carefully. The words themselves made sense, but the ideas were confusing. Loads of people travelled to different places without knowing the language. The incendiary devices thing was interesting, but the family tree thing lost Zach again. Creating animals out of machines was cool, but was it really a power? Controlling rocks, yeah, okay, probably a power. Harvesting wheat without tools could've just meant the picture on the vase was unfinished, right? Still, he knew something more would have solidified this change in Ethan's core belief, and that was only four examples out of five.
Ethan stared at the wall across from him, feeling as though that last frame was imprinted in his brain. He would never forget it, not even if he wanted to. Hell, Ethan doubted that even Donny could remove the memory of that last frame.
"Eth?" Zach prompted, quiet and gentle when he didn't say anything for a good three minutes.
"Right. Sorry. I... I could've ignored all of it, really, but the last frame. I... I checked it online, and it's right," Ethan said, swallowing hard. Taking his phone out of his pocket, he navigated through the apps until he found the screenshot he'd taken, and held it out to Zach. "Astral Comet created the Grand Canyon."
Zach looked at Ethan's phone, seeing the transcript of an interview between Astral Comet and a journalist, the next photo showing Astral Comet standing in front of the Grand Canyon. "Astral Comet? You mean... " he trailed off as he realised why the name was familiar, looking closer at the super's face in the image.
"Principal Powers," Ethan said with a nod.
"But... the Grand Canyon was formed anywhere between 50 and 60 million years ago. Million! Not thousand, million! Humans haven't even existed for that long!"
"I know."
Silence reigned for a long time, Zach chewing his nail as he read the transcript, and swiped to the photo over and over again. Eventually, Zach set Ethan's phone down and looked at him, a frown forming. "How'd you go from that to the Source?"
"Astral Comet's unexpected descent changed the landscape, and who knows what else? She is the first super, a real life comet, and it just made sense. Maybe I just need something or someone to be responsible, since Super Jesus and God probably aren't," Ethan muttered, covering his eyes with a low groan.
"All right. Enough thinking. My brain hurts, so yours must be on fire. Let's just sleep now, yeah?" Zach suggested, concerned by his boyfriend's blasphemy and the cause of it all.
Ethan sighed heavily and nodded, letting Zach tuck him into their bed. He was exhausted and asleep within five minutes.
...
End of the hundred and seventy-fourth chapter.
Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it.
Author's note: Principal Powers' comet created the Grand Canyon - it's canon!
Website (remove spaces): sta. sh/ 0t97ivwo4f
