A/N – I have to admit I was disappointed by the number of reviews I received for chapter 2. I had hoped to receive the same as chapter one or more but I guess for that I'll have to wait. I also advance apologize for any spelling and grammar mistakes, and the amount of time between the posting of this chapter and chapter two. I also have pictures of what the OC Cast of this story look like in my profile.I don't own Sky High, Disney or the incredible David Usher. The Title of the story is form a song, and same for the chapter titles. Can you guess which ones?
The Music – David Usher
Chapter 3. The chord that struck, an angel fell // The sky went dark and it all comes down
I was in my room admiring my outfit in the mirror. It was Halloween today and I was determined that I had given Warren enough time to be sullen and brooding. I mean he had his personal space right? It had been like a week and a half anyways, how much more time did the guy need? At school he hadn't acknowledged me, not that he paid attention to my presence before but I had expected something after out little fight. Maybe I wanted him to storm away from the table I had grown accustomed to sitting at, or maybe I wanted him to ask me to leave. Who knew? But he didn't do any of that, he just sat down and ate his lunch like any other day. I however, had adopted the habit of watching him out of the corner of my eye. And the more I watched him the more discouraged I became when I thought about the likelihood of our partnership.
In the beginning I was convinced that I needed Warren to catch this guy. But the more I thought of it I rejected that idea. I wasn't a damsel in distress, and Warren was far from a knight in shining armor. He had no desire to help me, fine. I didn't need his help I was determined to catch this guy by myself. So I decided I would give Warren a little space (I wasn't exactly eager to be all buddy buddy with him either) and if he didn't talk to me or approach me after a week, I'd go after our villain by myself. The onl problem with that was that we had to submit the Hero and Support Team registration package to PIRRC. But that stopped being a problem the second I forged Warren's signature on the documents after I had signed and filled them out myself. So it was little dishonest, but it was for the greater good right? Not to mention I had conveniently seen myself not getting into trouble for it so….all that was left was to get this guy. And tonight was the perfect opportunity.
During my spare time I had practically memorized his villain file and I had traced reports of police trying to track him after his small time jewelry store heist jobs. I borrowed a city map from dad and highlighted all his heist locations and escape routes. Everything led to a neighborhood not far from mine. So for a few days after school while waiting for Warren to come around I had casually meandered through the neighborhood and I caught sight of man who almost perfectly matched the build of my supposed villain. I followed him home one day and saw his house/mansion; he was either from a wealthy family or had a really high paying job. I identified this man as Patrick Flanning, a part time real estate agent, and upon extensive googling, and I became more sure than ever that this was our guy, I mean my guy, my villain. No ordinary real estate agent, especially a part tiem one could afford a house that size, or a car that expensive. Patrick was the Combuster. Lame name, I know but his power was turning into a puff of smoke, much like how Principal Powers could turn into comets. It made it real easy for him to evade the police, and other law enforcing individuals.
So now that I was sure I had my man pinned down, all I had to do was apprehend him right? I hadn't been able to see him close up yet and I was hoping that today I could and maybe even get a glimpse at the inside of his lair…I mean house. Wow, I was really getting into this hero stuff. Too bad my outfit wasn't too heroic. One of the perks of being five feet tall, and curve-less for a seventeen year old was that people often confused for a thirteen year old. Today that was working in my favor. I had gotten dressed up as Josie, the lead singer from Josie and the Pussycat Dolls. I had even convinced Layla and Magenta to come trick or treating with me in matching costumes, under the guise of a girly sleepover of sugar coated fun. I know what you're thinking - I'm a horrible person. But I didn't mean for them to get involved, they heard I was going trick or treating from my dad one day when he answered the phone, and it was beyond them to understand why I was going alone so they volunteered to accompany me. I tried to convince them not to come, I really did, but Layla is well Layla – stubborn and determined. They were currently putting the finishing touches on their costumes right now.
If everything went according to plan, and by plan I meant my vision, then we would arrive at Patrick's house when he had run out of candy, he'd invite us in, and ask us to wait while he got some more candy from his basement (creepy right?) and then Layla had to go to bathroom. Patrick still being in the basement, and me being an upstanding citizen and protégé under the tutelage of Veronica Mars would not miss the opportunity to snoop through the hallways of Patrick's house. The only problem was that was where the vision stopped. But I was willing to overlook that. I was almost a hundred percent sure that this would go off without a hinge. I mean it's not like I was going to try and apprehend the guy tonight, I just need to be completely sure that he was the Combuster before I stormed in powers flaring…not that my powers flare, that's more Warren's arena.
"Hey Bethany you ready?" Magenta called through the door.
"Yeah Mag, are you and Lay?"
"Mhm…oh wow our costumes all look so great, we have to get a few pictures!"
"Sure thing I'll be down in a sec."
It was now or never.
-x-
We had arrived.
"Happy Halloween!" We chorused.
"Wow, huh…aren't you guys a little old to be trick or treating?" Patrick asked.
"Not really, you can never out grow you inner child." Layla answered.
"Well then I hope you inner child likes chocolate kids because…..oh my. I seem to have given away all my candy, but if you girls wouldn't mind stepping inside for a minute I'd go get some from my basement for ya"
Magenta, Layla and I shared a look. Magenta having the best sense of self preservation out of us three shook a head a fraction of an inch, but I glanced at Layla and gave her a nod, she seemed to think it was an okay idea. I mean from the casual observer's perspective Patrick seemed like a fairly decent guy. Nice house, welcoming smile, thick glasses, sunny disposition, besides it wasn't as if I had seen anything go wrong in my vision.
We stepped inside, and if possible it was bigger than I imagined. The foyer floor was what appeared to be marble tile, and beyond that I could see a hall with hardwood floors and walls decorated with the occasional painting. Definitely not just a part time real estate agent. Patrick was walking down the hall when Layla called for him to stop.
"Sorry Mr…..?"
"Oh where are my manners, Mr. Flanning, Patrick Flanning."
"Mr. Flanning" Layla blushed, " I would like to …ah…may I use your washroom please?"
Patrick appeared surprised for a moment, "Of course, I'll show you the way." And Layla followed.
Perfect. I waited approximately three minutes before I wondered aloud about Layla's absence. I feigned worry that she might get lost in a house this size. Magenta seemed to share my concern but didn't want to come with me, she though it best that I go look for Layla by myself. That was fine with me because I didn't really see conspicuously casing a villain's house while locating a friend as a two person job anyway.
I was mentally detailing everything I saw for further analyzing in my brain. I walked down the hallway and turned past a kitchen, and multiple sitting rooms. My main goal was to look for confirmation of his being the Combuster and locate Layla. I wasn't sure which way his basement was I didn't want to take a wrong turn and suddenly end up confronting him, so I held out my hand and tried to use my precognition to sense the way I needed to go. The halls in this house seemed to never end, it was as if every room in the house was connected by the interlinking halls that encircled the house. Tricky. Good layout, if the hallways were meant to detour someone like myself from finding, oh a secret lair perhaps?
I turned a corner and came to hall with a series of doors. I passed a door on the right, left, left, and tingle. Wait tingle? Backtrack. I paused in front of the second door on the right and twisted open the knob, slowly pushing the door in as not to make a creak. It looked like a mini library of sorts. Lots of books, a small painting, sitting area in the corner. I took a slow turn about the room and something caught my sleuth's eye. The picture wasn't hanging right. As I went to adjust it, it fell making a small thump and hiding behind it was biometric scanner reader. Bingo. I quickly stuck the picture back on the wall in what I hoped was its original position. And made to duck out of the room and make my way back to Magenta. I slowly closed the door behind me and turned around, as I headed back around the corner I walked into something, more specifically something.
Patrick grasped my shoulders in his hands and stared down at me. After a moment he inquired as to why I was wandering in his house. It took me a moment to respond, because the Patrick I was seeing now was a different from the person who had answered the door. This Patrick looked more, edgy, darker somehow. He wasn't smiling, and his glasses were hung from his shirt pocket. His eyes were dark, and assessing and his entire face seemed to hold some underlying menace. His hold demeanor was insidious.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to wander around your house, I was just looking for my friend."
"Didn't your parents ever tell you it's dangerous to wander about stranger's houses?" When he answered his voice was almost a whisper and in the noiseless hallway it had an eerie effect that I'm sure he hoped to accomplish.
"I'm sorry."
"I'd hope so" he paused, "did you see anything…interesting?"
Until this moment I had been carefully avoiding eye contact, it made it easier for me to lie. Now as I stared directly at his eye I was sure the shock, guilt, and fear that he knew exactly why I was there and what I was doing was clearly readable on my face.
"Pardon me?"
He leaned down till he was just a little above my head, "did you like my house?"
"I..uh..I did it's very beautiful."
"I decorated it myself."
"You have very expensive taste." I whispered.
Shit! What was I thinking? Patrick had something of a smug half grin half grimace on his face. He regarded me for a moment longer and turned around. I took this as a cue to follow him. We stopped outside another door. Patrick told me this was the bathroom where Layla was and that he was going to give Magenta the candy for us. I nodded my assent wondering why he was leaving me here when had just caught me snooping in his house. It hadn't escaped my attention that while he was walking away he put his glasses back on.
Once Layla came out I explained I had gone searching for her, and that it was alright with "Mr. Flanning." Layla gave me a small smile; I guess if it was okay with him, it was okay with her. Once outside Magenta and Layla had repeatedly thanked Patrick for his hospitality, he had given Mag all his leftover candy, and out bags were chock full of chips and jumbo chocolate bars. Patrick was all smiles and bashful joy. I stood behind the two and kept my mouth shut.
"I'm sorry I don't think I caught your names."
Before I could interrupt as to why he needed out names Mag and Layla had already given him our full names, all of our names. Patrick smiled and bid us a good night.
"And don't forget to brush away all that rotting sugar from your teeth girls."
"We won't" Layla answered. As she and Mag ran down his steps, probably eager to get back to my house and get to sleep. I was still making my way down his front steps which allowed me to hear the last part of his farewell.
"See, you friend was fine Bethany. It wasn't as if she…combusted or anything."
At school the next day nothing out of the ordinary happened. No mysterious visions, no confrontations with a hot-headed pyro…not that there wasn't still time left in the day for that. Layla and Mag had been sticking to me like glue as of late, it was like our one night sleep over had solidified my acceptance into their group, and I found my self freely conversing with them during most of my free time in the day. As the last minutes of school drew to an end, Layla and Mag invited me to meet up with them for some Chinese food at some restaurant called the Paper Lantern. I'd heard of the place before, and rumor had it that they were the best Chinese food in town, but unlike Layla and Mag I wasn't the biggest fan of Chinese, Italian or Ukrainian was more my thing.
As I exited the school bus and walked down the street I had a nagging feeling at the back of my head, it was warning me that something bad was going to happen. As I approached my front door I noticed it was slightly ajar. Okay, bad just happened. But let's not jump to conclusions right? My dad could just be about to run out, or ran in and you know forgot to close the door. But that seemed less than likely as I slowly pushed open the door. I remembered that much from watching detective movies, make slow movements, if you're defenseless you always have to let the villain know you're coming so they don't panic and well kill you.
"Hello?" I called out. As I peered quickly around the room I felt slightly safer. I mean the room was ransacked; couch cushions thrown everywhere, tv turned over…actually it might have been smashed. But all this damage gave me the comfort of knowing it was just your garden variety burglar, not like some serial killer, or lurking super-villain or anything. I made my way through the wreckage in the sitting room, and did a quick sweep of the rest of the house. Kitchen unharmed, bedrooms unharmed, bathroom unharmed, basement…harmed. And that thing about garden variety burglars I said before? Just toss that out the window, because the basement was almost unharmed, if you disregard the wall graffiti. It looked like someone had splattered oily paint, or maybe even just oil all over the white wall so it read "Ready to Combust?"
Busted.
"Wipe the guilt out from your eyes
And leave your conscience on the bed
There's no one innocent here
In the mirror you'll find faith"