Disclaimer: I do not own Sky High or its characters, settings etc, all of which belong to Disney.

Chapter 2: Legacy

Mr. and Mrs. Wu insisted that they would clean up the mess and close the restaurant, and told the teenagers to go home. It was very close to their collective curfews, but no one was at all keen on leaving. In the end Warren gave up trying to get them to go, and they all trooped upstairs to his apartment after saying goodnight to the restaurant owners.

Old family friends and retired sidekicks themselves, Mr. and Mrs. Wu had kept an eye on Warren since his mother died when he was fourteen, poisoned by an arch-enemy who, ironically, was totally unrelated to her ex-husband's family. Before finally succumbing to the toxin, Zoë Peace had been able to organize Warren's future education, sufficient trust funds and for him to be allowed to continue living in their apartment above the Paper Lantern, even though he was still underage at the time.

Warren let his friends in. For Ethan, Zach and Magenta, this was the first time they had visited his apartment, so of course they were fascinated about that as well as what had happened that evening. Warren ran a hand through his hair and sat down on the couch, but the others seemed too excited to make themselves comfortable. The whole group of them, even Will, were a bit too hyped up for Warren's liking. He was starting to get a little uncomfortable with all the attention, but he was doing his best to stay reasonably calm.

"So this came from your mom then?" asked Will, finally sitting down on the couch next to him.

"Yeah, but this isn't how pyro-psionic power works normally," Warren replied. "My mom manipulated fire without ever absorbing it."

"So your mother was a pyro-psionic and your father's pyrokinetic?" Ethan asked.

Warren just nodded.

"Whoa, back up a bit, guys," said Zach. He and Maj were sitting back to back on the floor, each being the other's backrest. "Like, what's a pyro-sy-whatever?"

Ethan gave Warren a hopeful look. The pyro rolled his eyes and gestured to him that he might as well do his Professor thing.

"Well, the pyro powers basically fall into two divisions, depending on whether the fire is generated internally or controlled externally. A pyrokinetic creates fire and controls, to a certain extent, fire of his own creation."

"Or her," interjected Layla, like usual.

"On the other hand," Ethan continued, pacing like he was delivering a lecture, "A pyro-psionic can't create flames, but has almost complete control over fire from an external source, within certain limitations of course."

"Whoa." This was all a bit much for Zach. "Information overload, dude." He stood up suddenly, causing Maj to fall over. Needless to say, she was less than amused.

"I had no idea there was more than one kind of fire power," admitted Will.

"Well, now you've learnt something new today. You can draw a little smiley face on your calendar." Magenta had adopted her usual stance of pretending not to be impressed about the whole affair, although everybody knew it was only an act. She turned to Warren, having noticed something else, "Is it just me or do you have more bits of red in your hair now?"

"Yeah, the extra streaks came with the new tattoos. It's a package deal."

"I think it's all quite symbolic," said Layla out of the blue. They all looked at her. "Well, think about it. He got his second power, which was from his mom who was a hero, during the course of saving some arbitrary person he didn't really care much about. I mean, that's what real heroes do, right? Save the people on the street a lot more often than the people they love."

She beamed at Warren who was trying very hard not to show how touched he was by her belief in him, with a distinct lack of success.

Ethan, meanwhile, had been looking around at Warren's décor. Apart from the couch, there was not much furniture in the living room area apart from the coffee table which Layla was leaning against. It was wooden and the top was inlaid with an exotic design of a bird with a flaming tail. The main decoration on the walls was a series of Chinese ink paintings depicting the life cycle of the mythical phoenix, each image rendered in a few simple but effective brushstrokes.

"You're right, Layla," said Ethan, "There's definitely something symbolic going on here. I mean, I'd have expected more Chinese fire-breathing dragons, but Warren seems to go for the phoenix motif."

"Yeah, like that shirt he's got," put in Zach, who was relieved to be able to follow the conversation again. He sat down on the floor a safe distance from his girlfriend, on the other side of Layla.

"My mom was Firebird, Popsicle," replied Warren. "It stands to reason."

Ethan shook his head. "It's more than just that. The phoenix is the symbol of a fire elemental."

"No." said Warren, sharply. He knew exactly where Ethan was going. "Stop right there."

"Fire elemental?" asked Will.

"The ultimate fire user who has complete control over all fire in their vicinity, both internally and externally generated," Ethan responded with a textbook answer.

"In other words, someone who is both pyrokinetic and pyro-psionic?" Layla glanced at Warren and raised her eyebrows significantly.

Warren gave Ethan a look that once would have sent him melting, but it didn't seem to work so well these days. "No, there's one or two other aspects as well. Besides, I'm not even a proper 'psionic, so you might as well give up on the idea."

"Actually, that's part of what makes it so fascinating," continued Ethan, undaunted, "It's like your mom's pyro-psionic power has somehow merged with your original pyrokinesis."

"Yeah, fascinating," replied Warren, deadpan, "Don't you kids have a curfew or something?"

That turned out to be a pretty good tactic for deflecting their attention. Not only did they start making exit plans, they also had a new topic of conversation, namely Zach complaining (like usual) that Warren had no business calling them 'kids' considering he was only two years older than the rest of them and they weren't little freshmen anymore, etc etc.

It wasn't that Warren didn't like them, quite the opposite in fact, but they could be a bit much at times. For the most part he preferred the company of just either Will or Layla, or the whole gang only in small doses.

They all said goodbye at the door and started down the stairs, except for Will, who noticed that Warren had taken out a box of matches.

"What's with the matches?" he asked, and then realized, "Oh, you're going to try out your new power, what did you call it?"

"Pyro-psionics. And yeah, I thought that might be a plan."

"Mind if I stay and watch?"

"Stronghold, would you mind being a gentleman and take your girlfriend home, huh?" said Warren a little more harshly than he intended.

Will was unfazed by his tone. "Oh sure, of course. But can I come back then?"

"If you absolutely must," sighed Warren, but he wasn't really all that averse to the idea. When he had gotten his pyrokinetic power, his mother had been there to calm his fears and help him get the hang of his potentially destructive ability. Of course, he wasn't nine years old anymore, but still, having some company didn't sound so bad.

He sat for a while after Will left, just enjoying the first silence he'd had for hours. Tracing an index finger over one of his new tattoos, he couldn't help wishing his mom could have seen this.

With a sigh he forced himself out of his brooding and picked up the box of matches. He lit one, but before he could do anything with it, it was blown out by a rush of air caused by someone arriving through the open window behind him.

"That was quick," he commented without looking around at his visitor.

"I can fly pretty fast." Will said modestly.

Warren shot him a sidelong glance. "Quick goodnight kiss too."

Will sat a small distance away, on the arm of the couch, evidently wanting to stay a bit out of the danger zone. "Uh, well, I didn't want you to burn the place down without me." Warren snorted at that suggestion. "Actually, that was what Layla said."

Warren said nothing as he lit a match. He touched the flame with his index finger and absorbed it.

As he took another one out of the box, a thought suddenly occurred to Will. "Why would you, of all people, keep a supply of matches?"

"Just in case. If my core temperature drops below about 150 I can't power up." Warren struck the match, and this time decided to try absorbing the fire from a distance.

"Oh," said Will, "I didn't know that."

The flame flew from the match straight to Warren's other hand where it was absorbed.

"Not something they teach in Mad Science until junior year." On the other hand, his new power seemed to raise his temperature, at least until he used the fire he'd absorbed.

"So, next time I wanna pick a fight with you it should be sometime when we're at the North Pole in the dead of winter, right?"

"Sure, if you can think of some reason for me to be there. Of course, now that you've warned me, I'll make sure to pack a Zippo lighter."

Will was about to ask how much good a lighter would be against so much cold, but his train of thought was interrupted by Warren tossing two lit matches up into the air. He jumped in surprise and fell off the arm of the couch, while Warren nonchalantly extinguished both matches long before they reached the floor.

"Are you psycho or something?" exclaimed Will as he got to his feet.

"Relax, Flyboy," Warren grinned, "For obvious reasons, everything in this place is fireproof. Including the two of us."

They'd discovered during their infamous cafeteria fight that Will was invulnerable to fire in much the same way as Warren was unharmed by flying through solid brick walls. Well, physically unharmed anyway. He did admit that it had hurt like hell.

Warren calmly lit another match and carried on with his experimenting. Will had to admit to himself, if not out loud, that he was quite impressed with the degree of control Warren had over his new power already. After all, when Will had first gotten his super-strength he'd accidentally re-designed his front doorway.

As Will watched the next few matches get rapidly extinguished, he mused over Warren's latest nickname for him. He often wondered if his friend was incapable of calling anybody by their first name unless things were extremely serious. Layla was positive that Warren's nicknaming tendency was a sign of affection, but he wasn't quite so sure. Plus he'd noticed that no one was allowed to assign Warren any sort of epithet, Boomer's 'Hothead' being the only exception and that was largely because there was little he could do about it.

He had an idea. "I don't suppose you can do it around corners, huh?"

His friend frowned slightly, thinking over the suggestion, and then decided it was worth a try. But it didn't take long to prove that any sort of barrier prevented him from using his new power.

"Now, a proper pyro-psionic wouldn't have a problem with that," Warren commented lightly. He wasn't particularly troubled about the limitation; he was just trying to make his point about Ethan's theory.

After some more practicing, Warren could absorb the flame so quickly Will couldn't even see where it had gone. It seemed to just disappear.

By Sunday evening Ethan had done some research into fire elementals, which made him even more convinced Warren was one, or at least in the process of becoming one. Warren was equally convinced that Ethan was living in a dream world, particularly considering there were no fire elementals in existence and there hadn't been for about two hundred years.

They were gathered in the Strongholds' living room. Ethan pored over his research notes on the coffee table next to a bowl of popcorn, which Zach was eating in between bouncing off the walls (not literally, but pretty close). Warren was sitting on the one couch and Maj and Will were on the other, with Layla perched on the arm next to Will.

Warren had joined the group for this little get-together, something he didn't always do, because he was hoping to get them to curb their excitement before Monday morning. So far with little success.

"I can't wait till they find out at school tomorrow!" said Zach. "That'll put that overheated show-off in his place, when he finds out Warren's got one on him!"

The person in question was junior by the name of Brett Simmonds, a pyrokinetic and a complete jerk. He often picked on kids in the hero support classes, although he had the sense not to mess with Will's friends. There wasn't a whole lot Will or Warren could do to stop him without it turning into a full-scale war, considering threats didn't work and the last fight between the two pyros had resulted in a no-score draw and a week of detention. After that, Layla had forbidden both Will and Warren from getting into any more fights, even if they were trying to defend someone.

"No, wait," said Will in response to Zach's comment, sharing a mischievous glance with Warren, "If he doesn't know about Warren's new power …"

"… We can have some fun confusing his little brain," finished the pyro.

"But, but, but, it would be so cool for him to find out he's not so hot after all," objected Zach, taking some popcorn and deflating onto the couch next to Warren.

"Yeah, but then what?" Magenta answered from the opposite couch, "You'll have your moment and then it'll be over. I say draw out the torture as long as possible."

"Wait a minute," Ethan said, looking up from his research, "What exactly are you guys suggesting?"

"Picture the scene, Popsicle," said Warren, who was getting into the idea. He leaned forward, with his elbows on his knees. "Simmonds starts threatening some unfortunate kid, he powers up and – oops, where's all my fire gone?"

"Can you do that?" asked Ethan.

Warren smirked. "Is Layla vegetarian?"

"Leave me out of your nefarious plotting," objected Layla from her perch on the couch arm, but she smiling. She was keen on the idea of putting the bully in his place without stooping to his level of violence.

"Look, obviously, there are some limitations," Warren continued, "For one thing, I worked out that I need to have line-of-sight."

"While staying out of sight," put in Magenta.

"Or at least, out of notice," Ethan gestured with the pen he was using to make notes.

"Yeah, 'cos Warren's just such an unnoticeable guy," replied Zach sarcastically.

"But everybody knows Warren's talent is for starting fires, not extinguishing them," said Layla, leaning forward with a knowing smile, "People see what they expect to see. Even if it's right under their noses."

A/N: Huge thanks to the people who reviewed! Your support means so much to me.