While I certainly can't apologize enough for how long it's taken for me to get this chapter out, I just want to say I can't thank all of you enough for your patience and understanding. We're almost done with another installment of this universe and the enormity of that is really getting to me, choking me up almost. I love writing Hero Time so much and it's been such a joy to share it all with you. Thank you so very much.
And as always, a special thanks to Enmuse, Yin, thewolvesrunwild, notatroll7, secretlystephaniebrown, cobaltqueen, icefrozenover, analiarvb, the-space-nerd-97, Kiwibat, wholehoggz, festiveshrimps, and washingtonstub for the feedback and support!
Double Time
Chapter Twenty: The Speech
Washington's thoughts probably shouldn't have been on the fact that Church would kill him if he saw the position he was in, and yet as he clutched to Tex for dear life as she drove through the city streets with something akin to reckless abandon, he found himself very much thinking along those lines. In fact, he was thinking about a lot of the people that he knew were relying on them at that moment.
Church was only topped by Caboose and the Reds and the teenage heroes who had so much further to go and the restaurant crew and Junior who looked up at him the way Wash had never been looked up to before and — Tucker. God, Tucker most of all.
When Washington felt the need to protect the city, to protect Blood Gulch of all places, a big part of that had been under the idea that if he went somewhere he could work in the shadows, where he could work without connections or fears of tripping on his own strings of attachment, that he would be the sort of acclaimed hero who could single handedly clean up an entire town.
But he had never been closer, never been more compromised than at that moment, realizing he had an entire family relying on him. And that thought was enough for the sake of righteous fury that he was probably going to do something heroic, something to put an end to the nonsense, but also something very, very inescapably stupid.
"Can't this go faster?" Wash demanded.
Tex didn't even flinch toward glancing back at him, eyes set on the road ahead of her. "Washington, there was one agreement. One. And I didn't even prompt it. You made it. And it was about how much I fucking hate backseat driving. Are you backseating me right now?" the leather clad woman snapped angrily.
"With my boyfriend at stake? Yes!" Wash cried out to the point that his voice crackled.
"That's another thing," Tex continued, voice still a firm growl. "I'm glad you're having whatever midlife crisis-slash-epiphany or whatever that you're playing house with my friend you've been fucking for a few months."
"Do you have to say everything so graphically?" Wash's voice cracked again.
"Really, I think it's fucking fantastic that you're holding fast to the whole queer-and-here stuff," she continued, ignoring Wash's input entirely. "But, jesus christ, if you can go a solid minute without finding a way to work boyfriend or family or step-son into your corny speeches, I'd be able to stop feeling the puke in the back of my mouth."
Wash bristled. "You have a problem with us being boyfriends?"
"No, it's just weird because you've not called each other that for months and suddenly you can't shut up. It's like you just realized it for the first time or something," Tex remarked scornfully.
"I did realize it for the first time!" Wash argued. "I had no idea how much all of it meant to me until it finally happened — until I was faced with what I was about to lose, I realized what I'd had all along and what I was really fighting for. Not just the city or being a hero, but because my family is part of the city and I now know that the city is full of that kind of love—"
Tex swerved side to side, nearly tipping the bike and them over and definitely almost causing Washington to go flying off the back of the bike had he not been already holding onto her for dear life.
"Tex, what the fuck are you doing?" he demanded.
"Sorry, my eyes rolled in the back of my head. I almost passed out from a sugar rush," she replied. "Really, it's your own fault."
"My family is at risk! Can't you take this a little more seriously?" Wash snapped only to be taken by surprise when she swerved back and forth again — that time fairly deliberately. "You're hysterical," he said flatly.
"You're disgusting. Also you must have cat claws or something because that time I was trying really hard to knock you off," she said simply.
Squinting at her, Wash gripped her tighter just in case she was going to pull another maneuver. "And you're the worst."
"Dumbass," she laughed almost affectionately. "I'm the best."
They sped past another corner and soon were faced with the sort of traffic and crowds that were to be expected downtown during some sort of parade or major event that wasn't an electoral campaign. It wasn't like their city was particularly well known for political involvement, after all, that's how they got into the nonsense of the mayoral tie to begin with.
"This is more crowded than a sports thing," Wash announced.
"A sports thing?" Tex snorted beside him. "Fuck, Wash, you can't even name a single sport?"
"Basketball," Wash replied almost mindlessly, his full attention on scanning the crowds for anything suspicious.
"There you go," Tex joked.
"My boyfriend likes basketball," Wash continued, finally honing in on a center stage where posters for both Kimball and Doyle were set up.
"Oh my god you can't stop yourself. It's like compulsive gay," Tex marveled. "Other than breaking his arm, have you hung out with Donut any? You probably have more in common than you think."
"Do you know how wrong that sounds?" Washington began to argue only for them both to stiffen and hold their places as the crowd erupted into cheers and claps as the curtains on the stage opened and allowed the mayoral candidates to make their way through to the podiums set up for them.
"Finally!" someone in the crowd jeered. "We can finally put this whole political mess to rest!"
"Yeah, I don't even care who won at this point," another person answered.
"People are so politically inactive. It's disgusting how little they care about their civic duties," Tex claimed.
Washington looked at her suspiciously. "Oh? I'm guessing you're the one other person in our district who happened to register and vote then, if you care so much about it."
"What? No, of course not," Tex scoffed. "I'm legally dead. I said it's disgusting how little they care about their civic duties. Which is basically just to vote. My civic duty is to stop time itself from collapsing in on itself, straighten out underground alien mobsters, and stop alien civil wars from reaching our own planet as a theater for their squabbling. You're welcome, Democracy."
Washington gave her a look which Tex seemingly didn't even notice. Instead she was thrusting down on the kickstand and letting the engine of her bike idle as she leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest.
"What're you doing?" Wash asked.
"Waiting for the big speech to tell us what the fuck's going on," she declared. "Man, you really have been focusing on petty crimes too much. Don't you even remember how this whole thing with super villains goes down? We've got to hear the speech and know what the fuck we're up against or else we'll fall right into a trap."
Surprised, Washington did a double take of their surroundings — a sea of bystanders around them and the mayors. "How is that falling more into a trap than sticking out like two sore thumbs in the middle of this crowd?" He paused and realized no one was really paying them any mind. "What the hell is wrong with these people? I'm wearing a spandex costume."
"Hidden in plain sight, my friend," Tex shrugged. "Honestly next to some conventions, we're like third rate shitty cosplayers. Our costumes aren't nearly as elaborate as they could be."
"Elaborate sounds like a codeword for easily pulled apart in a fight," Wash replied flatly.
"Again, you've not been to enough superhero conventions," Tex shrugged.
Annoyed and not needing more attitude from the most attitude driven woman he had ever met, Wash swung his leg over the back of the bike and got off. An action that actually seemed to surprise Tex as she bothered looking his way for once.
"Uh, what the fuck are you doing?" she demanded.
"Getting to the stage," Wash confirmed before pushing forward through the crowd.
"Why?" she asked, still not moving from her spot. "I already told you what to do — sit and listen. No reason to go in half-cocked. Man. Where's Tucker when you need him."
"Tucker's not with us, and your covert research you and your new partner failed to let me in on said that financial backing for the assholes responsible has something to do with the mayors," Wash yelled over his shoulder. "Hence, I'm going to get answers and not sit around waiting for them to fall into our laps!"
"Fucking hell, you've not learned anything from working in Blood Gulch," Tex shook her head. "That's the only way these things get done, don't even kid yourself. No one from our part of town is capable of moving the plot forward on their own. It's our fucking Kryptonite."
"Then it's a good thing I'm not a native," Wash argued, turning back to face the stage.
He was making his way through the crowd rather quickly, but the further he progressed, the more pushback he was getting. Despite a part of the city only a few blocks over being practically abandoned, there were enough citizens available for this conference to pack in like sardines. And it was mightily inconvenient when no one seemed willing to budge even for a superhero.
"I'm sorry — excuse me — please — I have to — the stage!" Wash gritted out as he bumped through them all.
There was a tapping on the mic and the clearing of a throat before Kimball's voice, amplified across the town square, came through loud and clear. "Greetings, citizens. Your appearance in support of the democratic process as well as for the institutions of law and justice in our grand city could not be accepted with more appreciation and joy than what we have now," Kimball announced to the cheers of the crowd.
Wash pushed to get closer, looking across the stage angrily. There was no sign of Felix.
"Hey, watch it! I've got a kid here!" the woman shoved yelled at him angrily.
"I understand, my boyfriend has a son. Who's like a son to me, excuse me," Wash said, continuing forward.
"I don't need your life story, just don't shove us, fucksake!" the woman cried out.
"Hey, language!" Wash sputtered out. He stopped and looked back in the general direction of the woman even as moved further forward. "I… I have a boyfriend! We're a family!"
While he got a few looks for his outburst, most people seemed transfixed on the stage and on Kimball and Doyle themselves. They were both dressed in fine suits and seemed ready for a long and probably costly to tax payers ceremony.
"I believe that our city has waited long enough for an answer as to who is mayor and-and-and-and," Doyle began stuttering just as Washington reached the corner of the stage and was being pushed back by some bodyguards with earpieces.
"Hey, listen, something's wrong here," Washington tried to explain and push through when the guard snorted.
"No, he always stutters and faints like that," the guard responded.
As if on cue, Doyle dropped his mic entirely and let out a sharp yell before hitting the stage.
Washington squinted. "This isn't right," he managed again.
"While we… we wait on my… colleague to be-be…" Kimball attempted to transition only to grip to the sides of her podium, hanging her head over. The microphone clattered against the side of the podium causing an uneasy noise across the intercoms. The whole crowd shuttered in response. "No… No please!" she yelled out, away from the mic before hunkering down on the ground, covering her head with her arms.
Everyone gasped and began muttering in confusion.
"What's going on!?" someone cried out.
Washington took the opportunity to at last push past the security guards only to be stopped dead in his tracks as a familiar black and orange clad figure strolled across the stage and picked up the dropped microphone. He tapped it once, twice and then cleared his throat, a sneer on his face.
"What's going on, ladies and gentlemen, is that you're witnessing two regular, mortal humans being put exactly in their place," Felix announced. Everyone grew silent watching him with wide eyes. But Felix seemed to just enjoy it, stepping back and tilting his head to look at the the huddled forms of the would-be mayors. "You know, it's amazing how much effect a little… mental push can do to humans. You just get to know them well enough to know what illusions to cast, what weaknesses to exploit, and suddenly anyone is just putty in your hands." He turned back toward the crowd and smiled coyly. "Of course… fortunately for our species, we're not all just human anymore."
Washington felt his blood run cold as he looked at Felix and began to realize just where things were going.
"See, when I was growing up, there were so few special people… well, I always had to wonder, why, if someone was special, they would choose to put their lives at risk every single day to rescue non-special humans," Felix continued. "I couldn't fathom it. Haven't they ever heard about evolution? Haven't they ever heard of survival of the fittest?" He glanced out over the crowd. "The way I see things… if monsters and aliens and bad guys with powers crush a population because they're not special enough to stop them… What a waste for someone with special powers to inevitably end up dead trying to rescue them! It's bad math! It's bad science! Because if I, for example, am better than you, if I am smarter than you, if I am deadlier than you, well, then, I guess it should just be my right to kill you then, isn't it? And, really, that should be the right of all super powered people. Because we are better than you. And we are going to outnumber you."
Having had enough of the übermensch philosophizing, Washington pushed forward onto the stage. "And then what's next, Felix?" he demanded loudly.
Felix didn't seem surprised by the interruption, in fact his smile even widened as he he slowly turned his head in Washington's direction. "Wash, buddy… I was wondering when you would show up. Perfect example of Mister Hero. Always gotta save the day! Always have to try to make worth out of the absolute most worthless people. Talking about utter wastes, talk about bad math. How many of those nine lives you got left?" He bared his teeth as his grin grew impossibly large. "Were losing any of them worth it? Really?"
Wash stood his ground. "Everything I do? I make it count," Washington assured him. "You didn't answer my question, Felix… if there are no regular people in the world, then what makes people special anyway? What's the point of having abilities if it's not to evolve our community? To make things worth fighting for again?"
"Hm, what comes after everyone's special, you ask?" Felix hummed. "I have an answer for that, don't you worry, but that's not to spoil the surprise. No… I want you to keep asking yourself my question… How many lives have you got left? And how much are they worth?" He produced from his utility belt a button that he then pressed showily.
Washington didn't make any sudden moves even as the stage shook and people screamed. The curtains behind the podiums fell away and the stage opened up to reveal an elaborate platform raising up a large, imposing machine that—
"It's a giant blender," Wash marveled. "How the fuck…"
There was a clang of glass that drew Wash's attention to the inside of the giant kitchen utility and the air was immediately knocked out of him.
Tucker was stuck in the blender.