Chapter One Hundred and Eighty Two
...
Josie was excited to spend a day outside in the sunshine, away from her house where journalists were still camping out and Steve was still sulking. She'd barely seen Will since he'd been expelled, but every time he did come into the room all he did was snap and complain: no villains were booking fights, there was nothing to do, his girlfriend couldn't see him during the day, he was bored, and - worst of all - he blamed her for his circumstances; she should have fought harder to keep him in school, and then he'd be able to see his friends and have something to do during the day. Josie didn't know how to redeem herself in his eyes, even though she continually and desperately tried to do so. They'd had his favourite foods, watched his favourite movies and TV shows; Will basically had run of the house when he was there, just to keep him placated and pleasant.
Now, finally, she had a whole day to herself where she didn't need to listen to her son's whining or her husband's sulking. More importantly, Josie had a whole day to celebrate herself: Super Woman's Day.
The event manager was talking to her like she thought this was Jetstream's first festival and speaking event. Letting the words flow over her, Josie turned her attention to the giant screen that would soon be displaying her larger than life image. It vaguely reminded her of the museum's hologram, and she made a mental note to check in on that villain - and Gemstone, while she was at it.
A ticker was running along the bottom of the giant screen with the latest news headlines, though Jetstream didn't know why anyone would pay attention to that while she was talking. Her attention was caught and her cheeks went bright pink as she saw the Commander's name appear.
The Commander caught with his pants down! Reporter injured in the Commander's red-cheeked escape!
She still had no idea what on earth her idiotic husband had been thinking, leaving the Secret Sanctum while they were still dealing with the original fallout of their secret identities being exposed. Why he'd thrown that damned car into traffic was beyond her and even now, three days later, Steve still couldn't seem to articulate what had happened.
"Jetstream?"
Turning on hearing her name, Jetstream smiled at the event manager who looked young enough to have just graduated from Sky High. Or worse, a citizen's public school. "Yes, dear?"
"I was just saying, you'll be on stage in five minutes. Your cue cards are on the podium, and when you hear the bell, we'd like you to introduce Lady Peregrine for her speech. The cameras will light up green for each angle, but the visual crew have requested you continue to look straight at the crowd during the speech so it displays clearly on the giant screen - "
"Every angle? It's live?" Jetstream asked suddenly, alarmed at the thought of her every angle being shown on a giant screen behind her.
"Uh, well, yes," the woman said, looking puzzled at her response.
"Is there a way to turn off the left camera? It's not a flattering angle for me, you see, and no one wants that on Super Woman's Day, do they?" she said with a broad and persuading smile.
"Super Women's Day," the woman corrected automatically, then her eyes widened. "Uh, sorry. I mean - "
Jetstream's smile thinned. "It's fine, dear. You'll make sure that the left camera's off, won't you?"
"I can try, but - "
"Good. Thank you, dear. I'd better get ready for the stage and audience now," Jetstream said dismissively, hearing the MC starting to introduce her with a great list of her wins and accomplishments. She walked out onto the stage before the MC finished her introduction, smiling and waving at the crowd. "I'm sure you're all well aware of my accomplishments over the years, we don't need everything listed, do we?"
The event manager let out a small groan of annoyance as the MC glared at her rather than Jetstream for interrupting their speech, and tapped her earpiece. "Visual crew, report in. Jetstream wants the left camera turned off."
"Our left or her left?"
"Uh... Shit."
Jetstream continued her speech, ignoring the cue cards for the moment, and felt her smile freeze on her face as the left camera lit up green. That bitch had done it on purpose, she was sure of it!
A snicker came from the crowd and she turned a glare in the direction, her smile gone in an instant as she saw several people laughing over something on a phone, pointing at the stage - or, more likely, the giant screen behind her displaying her most unflattering angle. Whatever they were laughing about, she knew innately without a single doubt that it was about her.
"If you have more important things to pay attention to than my speech at this very important Super Woman's Day event, then please feel free to leave and give it your full attention!" Complete silence met her snapped words, and Jetstream heard a small bell ringing off to the side. It took a second for her to remember what it signified, then she smiled brightly once more and turned her attention to the side of the stage. "Now, let's give a warm welcome to Lady Peregrine!"
The applause for Lady Peregrine was far less enthusiastic than the applause had been for her, just as it should be, she thought, shaking Lady Peregrine's hand and smiling for the photographers and giant screen, then exited to the side of the stage.
"You didn't use the cue cards; the mic- " the event manager began to say, shrinking back as Jetstream whirled on her.
"You didn't turn off the camera. Was it malicious or are you just too stupid to follow through on a simple request?"
"The microphone's still on," the woman finished, her voice steady but quiet.
Jetstream turned on her heel to see Lady Peregrine and the crowd looking in her direction, and that Super God damned awful left camera practically glowing green as it caught everything in the wings of the stage. Tearing the microphone off her lapel, she threw it at the woman, then flew outside and up into the clouds.
When they saw how unsuccessful their stupid event was without her, the main attraction, they'd beg her to come back. She might do it for the panel later in the day, but she hadn't wanted to spend her whole day outside, anyway, Jetstream thought firmly, heading back to her home to keep an eye on Steve and call her lawyer. They'd regret how they'd embarrassed her and the Stronghold name like this.
...
"Anything you want to tell us before we get to this place, Gramps?" Champ asked, leaning back against the van's seat and trying to intimidate Connor into providing an answer even though the other man couldn't see his expression.
Connor could practically feel Champ's gaze boring into the back of his head, and his question had clearly prompted the interest of the others because more gazes coalesced on that spot. He resisted the urge to shift in his seat, ignored the building sensation to blurt out an answer, and breathed through three strong deep breaths. "We're almost there, you'll see soon enough. I really don't want to give you any impressions when you have to make your own decisions."
"Aww, c'mon, Gramps; not even an overview?" Buddy asked.
Connor was thankfully saved from responding as Honey turned into the Hive's parking lot.
"How about you, Honey?" Champ asked, even as he climbed out of the van.
"You can wait three minutes," Honey said, closing the driver's door behind her.
"Are you sure, 'cause that sounds like a straight-up lie."
Honey rolled her eyes and gently pushed Champ towards the path. "Go on; make sure the store's clear. I'll send Baby and Ex through Eden."
"Wait, through what?" Ex asked, frowning.
"Garden at the back of the building. I'll go with you," Connor offered.
"Ry's finishing his shift, yeah?"
"He should've finished by now, yeah. Why?" Connor asked Baby with a frown.
"Wanted to see how he went working retail; it doesn't look like a huge place, but retail's still retail," he said with a broad grin and shrug.
"I chose the Army over retail, which is still a decision I don't entirely regret," Ex said with a laugh, heading down the grassy hill towards the back of the Hive.
"Hey, not too close; the last of the worker bees are coming back," Warren called out, walking over from the beehives.
"How does he know that? How do you know that?" Ex asked incredulously, looking between Connor and Warren.
"Justina made sure they know the Hive's schedule so they don't sting anyone and die."
"Die? You're... you're talking about the bees?"
"Well, yeah, the bees are way more important than any random people who come into the Hive," Warren said, shrugging awkwardly in his beekeeper outfit. As they reached the back of the Hive, he stopped and took his hat and the rest of the suit off.
"Warren, Ry won't let me stab a customer even though he knows I'm right and the customer was stupid!"
"What did they do?" Warren asked, hanging up his hat and suit before retying his hair back into a neater ponytail.
"Threatened to sue us 'cause the lavender soap set off their allergies."
"What allergies were set off by soap? If it's the goat's milk, we can talk to the distributor - "
"They're allergic to lavender, Warren, and they bought and then used lavender soap. It has lavender written all over the packaging and it's got a goddamn sprig of lavender right there on top of it!"
"Wait, what? Why would they do that?" Ex asked.
"They said, and I fucking quote, 'I thought it was lavender oil, not the flowers' and I'm like 99.9% certain that you can't be allergic to one and not the other!"
"How'd you deal with it?"
"Resisted the urge to throw a lavender potted plant at their head. Also, I gave them Victor's name and told them to tell their lawyer to contact our lawyer," Craig said. "They ran away pretty quick after that."
Ry still had his head on the table, buried in the curve of his arms. Connor sat next to him and knocked on the table gently. "Need a hug?"
"Papa, it was so stupid," Ry groaned, his voice muffled. "But stabbing them means we really do get sued."
"I say we update the 'stop fighting' button to a 'stop being stupid' button," Craig said.
Warren snorted. "You'll be using it every ten minutes."
"Nah, just save energy and leave it turned on."
"Has it been three minutes yet?" Champ asked, right as the trapdoor in the library swung open and Ethan walked out with Zach a step behind him.
"Yes, incidentally, it has," Honey said with a broad grin.
"Come on, then," Warren said, squeezing Ry's shoulder gently as he passed.
"We'll bring the drinks down," Ethan called as he and Zach continued past the stunned men into the kitchen.
"Thank you!" Craig called over his shoulder, a decibel louder than average, the sound startling the others as they hurried to follow.
"Just a minute, Kid," Honey said, sounding apologetic even as he stopped without complaint.
He held out his cuffed wrist. "Figured you'd need this back sooner rather than later."
"Unfortunately. The good news is, you won't need it constantly after this," Honey said with a brief smile, undoing the cuff and tucking it into her large handbag.
"How long 'til this happens?" Kid asked, his body tensing as alarm bells started to ring, loud and incessant.
"That depends on you. Do you want the better news?" Honey offered, grinning as she guided him downstairs.
"Of course."
"Alice is getting her ass kicker dress today."
Kid perked up, even the ringing sound distant for a moment. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Hopefully it gives you something to look forward to while all of this is going on," Honey said, indicating towards the training arena doorway.
Kid didn't hesitate, walking straight into the room and over to where his lover and best friends were waiting.
"Good, Kid?" Connor asked, looking between him and Honey with a brief frown before he noticed the lack of white cuff around Kid's wrist and relaxed.
"Yeah, Gramps, I'm good," he said with a nod, sitting beside Buddy and holding his hand.
Layla and Warren waited for a moment, silence filling the arena, and all eyes turned to them. Layla smiled at the gathered men, even as phantom thorns pricked at her skin. The sensation was so painful she almost looked down to see if she was bleeding, but resisted the urge and kept her smile in place. "We want you to join us..."
It was not enough information and too much information all at once, some of the wording vague and others intent on provoking their hatred towards authority, government, and organisations like the Super Bureau. Their usual spiel had been updated to include statistics from Ethan, Adam, and Anita, who had helped them refine the data until it became something more meaningful than a pie chart on a screen, displaying not only the financial damage the Strongholds had done, but also the ecological damage for every "holiday" they had locally, interstate, and overseas. There were also testimonials about the Strongholds' monopoly and outright bigotry against other supers, lifestyles, and people from Ryuu, Layla, and Jewel. Craig and Wendy's PowerPoint slide about Magenta was only included because Layla hadn't seen it before, and she paused to read the comments, trying not to laugh while she was being serious about world domination.
"Even with the improvements, this really hasn't improved, has it?" Craig groaned.
"You're the one who put this slide in, Craig," Warren said, raising an eyebrow pointedly.
"I don't think he's talking about the slides. You guys are lucky I'm already in," Corvin snickered.
"Where is Ethan and Zach?" Ry asked, looking around.
"Oh, I stopped time for everyone who isn't in this room. I thought they were here?" Craig asked, looking around.
"They were bringing the drinks," Honey reminded him.
"Ooh, yeah. I hope there's an orange fizzy thing, I need carbonated fruit."
"Why'd you stop time, anyway?" Robin asked, frowning.
"Figured they'd need time to think about it. Also, the screaming can get loud."
"What screaming?" Buddy asked.
"Uhh, you'll find out," Craig said, hurrying out to help Ethan and Zach with the drinks.
"So is time still stopped or not?" Killer asked.
Ex looked at his watch. "It's stopped or this is broken."
"I apologise for the delay. I didn't realise Craig had stopped time without us. Do you have any preferences for your drinks? There's lemonade, orange juice, water, and orange fizz."
"Aww, shit yes. Dibs!" Craig called, stretching an arm out to grab the drink from Ethan's tray.
"Guests get the first choice, Craig," Layla said calmly, a vine wrapping around his torso and stopping his movement.
"Aww, shit no. Ugh, fine."
"How long have you stopped time for?" Baby asked as he took a lemonade for himself, passing another to Ex.
Craig shrugged awkwardly in the vine. "However long you need."
"We have to answer today, then?" Baby queried.
"Preferably. We haven't gone beyond a few hours for a time stop before, and I'm not sure if there's repercussions," Warren said with a brief frown.
Craig snorted. "You haven't."
"Stop fucking with time, babe; you're going to get older without us," Beau said with a pout, then turned back to where he was studying.
"How does that even work? I've stopped time, I'm not... Wait, am I getting older while time's stopped? How do I test this? Eth, Ry? Science nerds, unite! And give me answers!"
"Super Jesus, this is what you signed up with, Gramps?" Baby asked incredulously.
Connor sighed. "Yeah, I did. But they're right. Uh, Layla and Warren, not whatever those three are doing. Guys, stop scraping skin cells; you don't have a microscope down here, and Terrence is with Doc so you can't get one built. Test it some other time in a proper lab."
"You could go with Grant to see the Mad Professor," Beau called out. "Can someone help me with this homework for Communications? I need to roleplay a villain and hero stereotype."
"The regular kind or the porn kind?" Ex asked with a snicker, getting a high-five from Craig as he went to help Beau, and glares from several other people. "What? It's a valid question."
"You signed up for that, Baby," Connor pointed out with a smirk.
Baby sighed, but looked fond. "Yeah, I did."
"We can keep going with the spiel, if you'd like?" Layla offered.
"There's handouts, too," Warren added.
"You made flyers for this?"
Warren snorted at Killer's incredulous question. "It gets the point across far easier than Layla's rambling or my answers with an attitude," he said, quoting several teachers and his own mother, then held out some of the flyers for them all to take.
"What if these get out into the real world? The Super Bureau's on the lookout for anti-super groups, or anti-Stronghold groups, after that citizen turned himself in. Y'know, the guy with the bomb? Was it a bomb? It was something they were going to use against the Strongholds, at least."
"They're printed on paper that's made from my trees," Layla said, taking one of the flyers.
In the next second, the flyer lit up in flames, burning until nothing but ash remained.
"I know where all of my plants are, even the ones that have been processed, and as soon as they leave the Hive, I can destroy them. Of course, if the flyers are with people we trust, I hope not to have to resort to such extreme measures."
There was a beat of silence from the Special Forces group.
"Your power's plants. How'd you light it on fire?" Kid asked, eyes wide.
Warren grinned. "That's the second half of our speech: we branded each other with our powers," he said, a vine curling up around his forearm. "When we brand you, we can access those powers at any time, even bypassing power repressing beams and cuffs."
"What? No fucking way. That's not possible! They're designed to stop powers, that's the whole point!" Baby said, his patience snapped like a twig.
"We can demonstrate. It works on cuffs we wear, as well as cuffs other people wear. Anyone bring one?" Layla asked, looking at her friends.
Honey grinned and pulled out the cuff Kid had been wearing earlier. "I've got one, and you know it works," she said with a nod to Kid.
"I can wear it, if you like, hippie?" Warren offered.
It really hadn't been that long since they were both powerless and drugged, and he didn't look forward to the sensation, but he didn't want Layla experiencing it if she was uncomfortable, either.
Layla smiled and shook her head. "I'll wear it. Thank you," she added softly, kissing his cheek before taking the offered cuff with thanks to Honey. "Do you want to go first or me?" she asked, closing the cuff around her wrist with a soft snap, and trying not to shudder as the flames' warmth lessened and her vines shrank beneath her skin.
"I will; you rest and adjust to it a bit longer," Warren murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple before stepping away and concentrating.
"Wait, what are you - "
"Oh, no."
The expressions of realisation on his friends' faces made Warren grin, even as he let the feelings consume and rush over him, pulling him down and drowning him and giving him life all at once. He felt for the flames beneath Layla's skin, soft embers glowing through each ounce of love and waiting to be fanned into an inferno. Warren waited a breath, breathless as Layla waited patiently with her own vines curled up and unnaturally quiet, and as he let that breath in, oxygen met embers, and fire erupted around Layla. Teasing yellows and oranges, harmless to her and him alone, the flames curled out like a sunflower, warming and lighting up the crowd in front of them. Layla laughed in delight as she warmed up to her now-normal temperature, and smiled at him brighter than his flames.
"Oh, thank fuck," Connor breathed.
"What did you think he was going to do?" Buddy asked, tilting his head.
"The usual feelings are... well, they're closer to orgasms than anything else, and it can be awkward."
"I vote against having a group orgasm, thank you very much!" Zach called out, a hint of hysteria in his voice.
"Well, now, that just depends on who's in the group."
"Ex... "
"Yes, Baby?"
"You're testing my patience," Baby muttered.
Ex just grinned in response.
"All right, we get it. Want to turn the flames off before we all get barbecued?" Killer called.
"Ah, right. Your turn, hippie," Warren said, letting his flames gently fade, the warmth going with them.
Layla smiled, concentrated for a moment and then a moment longer, then felt vines uncurling, petals unfurling, and leaves swirling. A lemon tree sprouted from the ground beside her, then an orange tree, a pear tree, an apple tree, and continued until a small orchard surrounded them all.
"Someone grab me a peach? Oh, and a pear? And one of those apples? No, not the red one, the honeycrisp ones? Yeah, and two greens. Awesome, thank you!" Zach called, gathering several fruits for himself before the trees could disappear entirely.
"Fruit salad?" Ethan guessed.
"Yeah, I'm getting hungry and there's no point wasting good fruit."
"You can eat it?" Champ asked, taking an apple for himself and inspecting it like he thought it would be fake.
"Uh... yeah? You did see the trees growing out of the ground, right? They're real, they just grow super fast," Zach said with a shrug.
"You can take the cuff off now, Layla," Honey said.
Layla nodded, and as she unlocked the cuff, the orchard of a hundred became an entire grove of a thousand trees.
"This is gonna be a huge fruit salad," Zach said with a snicker, tagging Craig to help him collect more fruit.
"I'm in."
"Buddy?" several people echoed, surprised by his words and sudden certainty.
He looked around at them, frowning at their surprise. "They make good points; the flyer is more succinct, like they said, and they can power up while wearing a power cuff. Not even the Commander and Jetstream can do that; that's how the things got advertised back in the '80s, remember? That ad for the police and the Commander couldn't break a two-by-four?"
"These are stronger than the ones that were sold in the '80s," Honey called out, several apples caught in her skirt.
"Ah, fuck. If you're in, Bud, then I'm in, too," Kid said, kissing his hand, Buddy smiling in response.
"Would you like to be branded now or later, once the others have decided?" Warren asked.
Champ wrinkled his nose. "I don't like the idea of being branded."
"You're covered in tattoos, Uncle Champ," Ry said, rolling his eyes.
"That's... different. I don't know how, but it is," he muttered.
"What are you doing over there, Gramps?" Sport asked.
He still wasn't sure how he felt about all of this, even though Corvin was seemingly involved, and part of him wanted to join just to keep Ammie's son safe.
"Working on an upcoming mission. We can only get photos by hacking into satellites that are already in the area, so it's taking more time than I'd like. We've got about half of the building, it seems," Connor said, circling another tiny figure in the desert area that was carrying a ray gun rather than a machine gun like some of the other figures were.
Sport frowned at the pictures taped together on the wall, taking up far more space than he expected for a single building that was seemingly in the middle of nowhere. "You're sure that's only half the building? What is it, a super-mall?"
"It's a laboratory; they're experimenting on supers, at the very least, and could be creating super weapons as well. It's a combo of private and government, based on the weapons they carry."
There was a beat of silence as his words carried across the training arena. Champ and Killer both looked over at his words.
"They're experimenting? Is it kids again?" Sport asked, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"We don't know, but either way, I don't think the people are willingly there or want to be experimented on. We have reports from the Super Bureau and the so-called experiments are basically shit-poor excuses to torture people who are different from them," Connor said.
"There's also several reports showing the plans on how to kidnap several people in broad daylight. A few are direct transfers from Maxville Super Penitentiary," Ethan added, pushing his glasses up his nose.
"We're in," Champ and Killer said together, nodding firmly.
"What've you got for the mission so far, Gramps?" Sport asked, trying to calm his own immediate response, knowing the emotion he felt now might not last beyond the mission.
"Not much. We're limited with myself and Honey as the only drivers. There's also a barrier that stops Craig from teleporting in, and when Robin attempted an earthquake, more alarms went off than should've been necessary. We don't know how many people are there, whether they're a friend or foe, or what they can do."
Sport didn't know what to say or how to help, so stayed silent for a moment longer. "What happens after this? This mission, you save people or kill people, what then? You expose the Super Bureau or, what, challenge the Commander and Jetstream for Maxville?"
Connor looked over his shoulder to where Ry was talking with Andy, then looked at Sport. "I do whatever I have to do to keep Ryuu safe and happy. I don't care about Maxville, and the Commander and Jetstream are only on my radar because of their obsessive and homophobic son, and the bullshit he's been putting Ry through even before he started at Sky High."
"I'm in. Baby?" Ex asked, holding a hand out to him with a broad grin.
"All right, I'm in. Someone has to keep you alive, Exxie," Baby said, taking Ex's hand and squeezing tight.
"Uncle Andy's agreed to join, too. Uncle Sport, do you need more time to think about it?" Ryuu asked.
"Of course I'm in. I thought that would have been obvious," Andy said, sitting on a training mat and clearly waiting for the next phase to start.
"Maybe," he murmured, hugging Ry in close. "This power and brand, it keeps you safe?"
"Yeah, it does. It's opened it up so much, I can fight anyone and anything. I could even take on the Commander, if I wanted to," Ry said, grinning.
"Oh, really?" Sport said, humouring him.
"Yeah, really. It'd be too easy though, so I won't bother. What're you worrying about?" Ry asked, looking up at him.
"Hmm?"
"You haven't agreed, and you've got that line above your eyes that you always get when you're worried about something, so... "
Sport smiled, brief and humourless. "I'm worried about a lot of things, kiddo. This isn't something to join lightly or without a considerable amount of thought."
"Unlike the Army, which you joined when you were seventeen because you loved the movie Stripes?" Ry said pointedly, grinning again.
"Look, I stand by that stupid-ass decision, but it was a stupid-ass decision and I know better now."
Ry snorted. "All right, Uncle Sport. You do what you gotta do, yeah? No one's gonna force you into it."
"And what happens if I say no?" Sport asked.
"Donny wipes your memory."
"That's it?"
"Well, yeah. That's all that's needed, really. You can't tell anyone about things you don't remember, can you?"
"And when you guys storm the super-mall?" Sport asked, nodding to where Connor was now discussing the so-called mission with Ex and Baby.
"You'd stay behind, I guess. I don't think Lay and Warren would bring you along on something like that if they didn't know they could trust you," Ry said with a shrug.
"Trust or control?" Sport asked.
"The control's only there in case shit goes weird. It's for safety reasons, mostly. Like when Victor got kidnapped by his ex-wife, if he'd had a brand then, Layla and Warren would've found him like that," Ry said, clicking his fingers. "And Craig's still low-key freaked out about being kidnapped in general 'cause his sister was gonna kidnap him and that's what trauma does to people."
"Wait, who's his sister? I don't remember everyone's family tree."
"Cara's dead; she was Victor's ex-wife."
"Oh. Oh, shit," Sport murmured, remembering Victor's comments about what his ex-wife had done to him in an effort to get custody of their children; if she'd done that to her ex-husband who'd been a citizen at the time, he could only imagine what she might've done to her super-powered brother.
"Yeah, exactly," Ry said, waving to get Zach's attention so he could get an apple. "Aw, c'mon, dude, you don't need all of them for a fruit salad!"
Sport watched as Ry ran over to Zach and Honey, bickering and teasing in a way he hadn't really seen before. Ryuu had never really had friends over the years, always painfully shy or scared to be himself or both. He thought of Ammie, her sweet smiles and concern over her son, the tears in her eyes as she admitted how her late husband had been murdered. Something shifted in Sport then, as though a flip switched and a lightbulb went off overhead, and he headed over to where Layla and Warren were sitting on the ground across from Andy, discussing Rose and Rosen's homeschooling and the rooftop garden Yuki was cultivating.
"If you want any particular seeds for food, I'll be more than happy to provide them. Even out of season, I can make sure they grow, just let me know what you want," Layla offered with a smile.
Beside her, Warren looked up and up at Sport, thorns sharp beneath his skin and Layla's hand tight in his. "Have you made your decision, Sport, or do you have a question for us?"
Sport glanced over at Corvin - shifted and flying against small flurries Wendy created with a gleeful expression - then nodded. "I'm in, but I have a condition. I want the fucker that killed Ammie's husband imprisoned and in pain for the rest of his life."
There was a soft thud as Corvin fell from the air, shifted, and landed in his human form once more. "Ow, fuck. Also, what the fuck? Ma told you about Da?" he asked, running a hand through his hair and looking uncharacteristically nervous.
Sport nodded, surprised by his response. "Yes. I didn't know she hadn't told you. Is it... Is it okay that I know?" he asked hesitantly.
"Yeah. I mean, I guess. You mean it, though? You'll only join if he gets fucked up?"
"Fucked up isn't quite how I worded it, but close enough," Sport said with a shrug. "And yes, that's my condition. Will you do it?" he asked Layla and Warren.
"Of course. He murdered your father, Corvin?"
"Yeah, along with everyone on my Da's side of the family. He had buckshot and a rifle with a scope; he fucking aimed for them."
"And he's not already in prison?"
"Ma had to drop the case against him; it's fucking expensive to sue someone, okay, and I was a clingy little brat," Corvin said defensively.
"You mean you were a child dealing with loss and trauma, and didn't want to lose your only remaining parent, or possibly family member," Sport said.
Corvin's shoulders hunched. "Yeah. Well, I should've realised Ma was grieving and trying to do something important - "
"How old were you?" Justina asked suddenly.
"Like, six. Why?"
"Super fucking Jesus, you were six years old, of course you wouldn't have realised what the fuck was going on. Hell, you barely would've been exposed to the concept of death beyond Saturday morning cartoons at that age. What six year old knows about lawyers and court cases, anyway?" Justina muttered, rolling her eyes. "Have you seen Doc yet?"
Corvin blinked at the unexpected question. "No. Why?"
"'Cause therapy's important, and Doc is a therapist specialising in supers and trauma. You totally need to see her. Honey, can you get him booked in?"
"Sure, Doc's contact details and your next appointment is being texted to you now, Corvin."
"I thought it was bad form to book someone else into therapy?" Zach murmured, Ethan shrugging.
"I don't have the money for a super-specialist therapist, they're - "
"Paid for on a salary rate and Doc is only taking on new clients within the Sanctuary building. I would've booked you in the week you moved in, but you would've been stubborn and refused to go. Now, you have to," Honey said firmly, an alert arriving on his phone in his pocket.
"Have to? You all don't - "
"We do, actually. The aftermath of France is still fucking most of us up, and Doc is non-judgemental on top of everything else," Adam said firmly.
Corvin looked at Layla and Warren, almost desperately and not entirely sure why.
Layla smiled, brief and gentle. "We go to Doc, too, Corvin. I really do recommend talking to her, even if it's just once."
"It doesn't have to be about your father," Warren added with a shrug. "I've talked to Doc about heaps of other shit."
Corvin bit his tongue so he wouldn't immediately ask what Warren, son of Baron Battle himself, talked to a therapist about that wasn't about Baron Battle. "All right, I'll go. But I don't have to go again if I don't want to, right?"
"Of course not. We only force you to go to the first therapy session," Layla said teasingly, grinning.
"Oh, and if you give us the fucker's name, he'll be living a long and painful life in prison within... a week, Ace?" Warren asked, looking over at him.
"By Tuesday, latest; I've already found the news articles and got his name," Adam replied with a nod.
"I'd like to assist, and I'd be interested in seeing the court cases if you have access to them," Ethan said.
"Tell me which prison he's going to, and it'll get an ant infestation. Oh, and mosquitoes. They can go for his balls," Justina crowed viciously.
"Damn, Justina, remind me to never piss you off."
Her cackling laugh was Craig's only response, and he shuddered before returning his attention to Beau's roleplaying study.
Sport felt a fond smile forming as others joined in to include their own forms of pain, retribution, and justice, then turned to Layla and Warren. "All right, I'm in."
"Excellent! Now, let's get started."
...
"Hey, Layla?"
"Mmm?" she asked distractedly, her concentration focused on her power and spikebomb 2.0.
The TV in the background had the news playing, Tasha looking viciously delighted as she relayed Jetstream's comments at the start of the Super Women's Day festival and how the day ended up being one of the most profitable Maxville had seen in recent years despite the beloved superhero's absence. She then went on to discuss Brian Anderson's exposé on The Lost Boys and how the organisation was starting to crumble after the disappearance of their leader.
Grant waited until Layla had completed the spikebomb before moving forward and distracting her attention so that she actually focused and looked up at him.
"Oh, hi Grant. Did I space out again?" she asked guiltily.
"Yes. I thought you were working on that?"
"I am. I did. I'm using more concentration for the spikebombs to make sure I get the new design right, so I sort of ignored the prompt from my vines. I won't do it again," Layla promised.
"Did you get it right?" Grant asked curiously, looking at the spikebomb. Apart from the curved leaf handle at the top of the pineapple, it didn't look very different from the original spikebomb.
Layla grinned. "Want to try it out?"
"Hell, yes."
Grant held the spikebomb by the new handle, testing the weight in his hand for a moment. When a wooden dummy appeared at the far end of the training arena, Grant threw the spikebomb toward it. The arc was beautiful, landing directly in front of the dummy, hundreds of sharp spikes exploding from the ruined pineapple and embedding firmly into the dummy.
Layla ran over to inspect the damage, Grant close behind. Some of the front spikes had embedded into the dummy so forcefully that he could see actual holes in the wood and what looked like a dark sap leaking out.
"Apart from the handle, what else did you change?" Grant asked curiously.
Layla grinned. "Look down; what do you see?"
"Uh... mustard-scented pineapple?"
"And what else?"
"Nothing?"
Layla waited a moment, still grinning broadly.
"Oh, the rest of the spikes! Where are they?"
"In the dummy. I've made the front and back spikes attract each other, so when they hit flesh, the others come in for a second round. It's extreme acupuncture," she said with a laugh.
"That's going to be a fantastic weapon when we finally get to use it," Grant admitted. "How fast can you make them now?"
"Well, now I know that one works, I can probably make ten in a minute. Warren will help as well, and I'm still going through the cyanide apple designs with Ethan and Ry as well."
"From the seeds?" Grant asked.
Layla nodded. "Increasing the amount of cyanide that's already in the seeds naturally and trying to have it in the flesh of the apple itself. I'm still trying to work out the logistics of how to make it an actual viable weapon without trying to shove an apple into people's mouths mid-fight."
Grant thought about it for a moment, silence falling between them. Layla made another spikebomb, setting it in a jewelled box compartment carefully before making the other nine to fit in the box.
"Oh, did you come to see me for a reason? I'm sure you had something more important than spikebombs to talk about," she said, setting the lid on the full box.
"Right. I wanted to know when the next fight is scheduled against Jetstream and the Commander. Craig got his payback for what Jetstream said about Jewel, but I haven't yet, and I want revenge."
Layla smiled brightly. "There's six upcoming fights over the next two weeks; let's see which one you can use, shall we?"
...
End of the hundred and eighty-second chapter.
Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it.
