Chapter Twelve: Do the Unpredictable

It was the day after Trip had announced his engagement to Helena. His father had invited him to the penthouse, saying he had a surprise for him.

Surprise didn't quite cover it.

"No, you're… you're not serious," Trip shook his head, looking up from the opened box to his father's face.

"I am. I've been thinking about this for some time. I've known for a while now that this was going to be yours one day. I think today's the day. You're ready," Vince proclaimed.

"I'm sorry, are you trying to tell me that because I'm getting married that somehow makes me vigilante material?" Trip's voice got louder as he thrust the cape, box and all, into his father's arms. "What, is this supposed to be some kind of wedding present?!"

"I don't know why you're upset, Trip. I thought you would be happy—"

Maybe there was a time when Trip would have been excited at the prospect of taking on the mantle. Hell, even after learning his father's secret, the Cape had still been his favorite hero, but…

"Dad, I realized something that I should have figured out when I saw you die on the morning news—life isn't a goddamn comic book!"

"I never said it was!" Vince retorted, starting to get riled in turn. Even after all these years, they never could seem to put the explosion and its aftermath behind them. It wasn't like Vince had asked for his name to be tarnished or his life and his family imperiled. "I know perfectly well this is the real world. And the Cape has done some actual good for the people of this city over the years! Don't you stand there and brush that aside like this is all some joke!"

"Then why don't you continue to be the one helping the city?" Trip demanded, throwing his hands in the air. "You're the one that loves being the Cape."

"And I've been doing it for decades. Trip, look at me." Vince's once sandy hair had turned silver. The euphemistically entitled laugh and frown lines had become noticeable. "I can't keep doing this. I'm not as strong or as fast I as used to be. People are starting to notice. If I keep this up, I'm just going to be putting people in danger. I have to retire.

"I wanted this to be your legacy," he finished, sounding forlorn. Trip's heart twanged in sympathy.

"Dad, I didn't—I didn't mean to insult you. I am proud to have you as my father, but this," he gestured to the spider silk garment, "this isn't for me. That's not how I'm going to be contributing to Palm City. Jesus, I can't even picture running around in that behind Helena's back…"

"You wouldn't have to keep it from her," Vince said. After marrying Peter, he had come to appreciate being able to confide in your spouse. If he had worked things out with Dana, he was sure he would have told her the truth, eventually.

"Oh? What would I tell her?" Trip snorted. "'Hey, babe, me running around in tights wouldn't be a deal-breaker, would it?' I'm sure that would go over well."

"If this was what you wanted to do and if she really loved you, she would accept it. She would support you, Trip."

"Maybe," the younger Faraday conceded. "But it isn't what I want to do, Dad. I'm sorry, it just isn't. I guess you'll have to find someone else to wear the cape."

~VF~

"You did what?!" Gerry Blander was aghast.

"Breathe, Gerry, breathe," Trip told his best friend.

"Shut up about my breathing! What do you mean you turned down the chance to be the Cape?"

"Now, don't start, Gerry…"

"'Don't start,'" he repeated, shaking his head. "You idiot! It would have been perfect! We could have been partners!"

"What are you talking about?" Trip asked, confused.

"So you didn't figure it out… Okay, don't be mad 'cause I didn't tell you. I was going to tell you, you've just been busy a lot lately between Helena and work and—"

"Just spit it out, Gerry," Trip insisted.

"You know how your stepsister stepped down as Orwell when she took over from her father as CEO of ARK Corporation?" Gerry began. Peter Fleming, bowing to the inevitable, had retired a month or so prior. (Though he still held a significant chunk of ARK's stock and so was going to remain involved in the company's affairs.)

"Yeah," Trip shrugged. He never had followed Orwell's blog closely. "I heard she found someone else to fill in for her—wait, you're not trying to say—"

"That the new Orwell is yours truly," Gerry grinned. "But of course; who else would it be? I couldn't pass up a chance like that."

Trip started chuckling.

"What's so funny?" Gerry asked, narrowing his eyes.

"All—all those years," Trip said, while trying to stifle the giggles, "that it was Jamie everyone assumed Orwell was a guy. Then she wrote that post telling everyone that they had it all wrong and now," he snickered, "now that Orwell actually is a guy all your readers are going to think you're a woman."

Gerry picked up a throw pillow and threw it at Trip's head.

"Quit giggling; it's not that funny, Triplet. Alright, you know what? If you're that juvenile, I'm glad we're not going to be partners after all."

"I'm sorry, man," Trip said, once he had gotten himself under control. "It would have been pretty cool to work together, but—"

"But bureaucracy and running around on rooftops and beating up criminals don't mix," Gerry concluded.

"They don't!" Trip nodded. "Could you imagine if it ever got out that the Secretary of Prisons was going around, tying up future inmates for the police to find?" he shuddered. "My career would be over before you could say: 'One man, one fight…'"

"'One right,'" they finished in unison.

~VF~

Back at the penthouse, Vince found Peter in the middle of an online chess game. (Those poor anonymous opponents never knew what hit them.) Unlike Vince, who decided to go natural, Peter kept his hair dyed black. Chess would have called him out for his vanity, but it was one of their shared traits.

"How did it go?" Peter called out, while putting the other player's king in check.

"He said no," Vince replied, sounding downcast.

"Really?" Peter sounded amused, as his avatar declared checkmate. "I always was proud of that boy."

"Oh, very mature, Peter; do you really still hate the Cape after all this time?"

"Hate's a strong word. Perhaps 'resent' is more appropriate… Well, look, who knows what schemes I could have gotten away with if you hadn't come on the scene?"

"Really feeling the love here," Vince rolled his eyes, as Peter got up from his chair and pulled him into his arms.

"Of course, at the end of the day, I'd still choose growing old with you over—"

"World domination?" Vince supplied.

"Something like that. Does this mean you're going to postpone your retirement?" Peter inquired. Vince shook his head.

"I can't. You know I'm not as young as I used to be. I'll just have to find somebody else to wear the mask."

The door opened and Pete walked into the room.

"Hey, Pa, Dad; what's this about finding someone to wear a mask?"

Vince turned to assess their son. Pete was eighteen years old, due to graduate from high school next week and, thanks to the insistence of the entire family, to start college in the autumn. Specifically, he was registered at the local community college, so he wouldn't be leaving town…

"No, bloody hell, NO!" Chess snapped. "No way is my son going to be the next Cape!"

"He's our son," Vince reminded his husband. "It's his birthright and he's old enough to make that decision for himself."

"So, suddenly it's his birthright, is it? Funny how not two hours ago you were offering that privilege to his brother!" Chess exclaimed.

"Dad, is that true? You picked Trip over me?" Pete's blue eyes were wide, full of hurt. Vince might have been moved if he wasn't sure that it was the same expression Pete used to charm half of the ladies at his high school.

"Alright, I asked Trip first, but he's older and more responsible than you and I knew he was going to react this way if I asked you," Vince jerked a thumb in Chess' direction as he finished.

"The very idea of Chess' son—"

"He's not you!"

"He's not you, either!"

"He's right over here," Pete interrupted them. He huffed. "What's this about Trip being more responsible than me?"

"I'm sorry, how many cars have you wrecked?" Vince countered.

"Well, they weren't completely totaled…" Pete shifted his weight.

"Who got suspended because he was cutting class to go make out behind the bleachers?"

"Now, that's my boy," Chess smirked.

"Please, like women would go anywhere near your other half before—"

"Ugh, Dad, don't need to hear this!" Pete whined. "You made your point. I get it, okay? I'm not exactly the model student that Trip was."

"If you're going to do this, you're going to have to learn some discipline," Vince warned him. "The Cape can't afford to be reckless—"

Chess scoffed. Vince ignored him and continued.

"And you can't go telling girls you're the Cape to try to impress them."

"…I'm not actually sure that it would impress them," Pete said. "I mean, aside from the nerdy ones…"

"Nerds can turn out to be pretty sexy," Vince observed, glancing at his egotistical husband. He didn't know where Pete was getting these ideas. Dana had definitely been attracted to the Cape back in the day and she was anything but nerdy.

"Regardless," Vince continued, "you would have to safeguard your secret."

"But not to the extent you did, right?" Pete shot his father a questioning look. "Trip says you wouldn't even tell him or his mother…"

"Yeah, alright, not to the same extent," the soon-to-be-retired vigilante conceded. "If you get married and have kids, by all means, you can tell them, but you don't go blabbing the secret on the first date—"

"Or the fourth," Chess added…no. Vince took a closer look. No, that was Peter. Chess had apparently withdrawn into himself, refusing to take further part in this conversation.

"You haven't said anything about this, yet," Vince said, inviting him to.

"I'm… not as violently opposed to it as my other half, but I'm not going to pretend this is something I wanted for our son," Fleming replied.

"Pa?"

"Not that I wanted you to be the next Chess, either, love," he sighed. "It's going to be dangerous, even without opposition from ARK Corporation."

"Or from Chess," Faraday added. He turned to their son. "He's right about that. The Cape is a target; I've lost track of the number of attempts made on my life."

"Three hundred and four," Peter commented absently. The other two stared at him. "What?"

"Nothing," the teenager shook his head, wondering if it was considered stalking if you were married to the person. Either way, it seemed a bit creepy.

"You think that's creepy?" Vince stage-whispered, as if reading his mind. "You should have seen your sister when she was in full-Orwell mode. If she wasn't on my side, I would have crapped my pants."

"Really, Faraday, this is why he's crude; he gets it from you," the older man complained.

"Yeah? Well he gets his penchant for getting in trouble with the cops from you!"

"No, he doesn't," Fleming contradicted him. "I never got caught."

"Anyway," the hero tried to steer the conversation back on track, "this is a big decision and you don't have to make it tonight. Why don't you take some time to think it over?"

"But if I say yes, you will teach me how to use the cape?" Pete asked hopefully.

"Yes, I will."

Author's Note: Thanks to IronAmerica and the writer formerly known as Orwell (and currently as DixonVixen93) for reviewing!

So, did you see that coming?

Chapter title is from Aqua's "Cartoon Heroes."

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