A/N: Just a reminder that the [bracketed] sections are representative of the invisible text used in the original formatting. Also, I still wish there was a better option for that, on this site.
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"Ethan. I need you to do me a favor."
"...the very thought fills me with dread. Should you even be out here right now?"
"No. We have fifteen minutes. Wheel me up to my lab."
"Well, you're the boss…"
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"Anything?"
The tech didn't answer right away, still focused on the little screen set into the body of the scanner. Assault definitely wasn't fidgeting, standing there in the middle of the street. The wide open street. With two trucks just packed full of supplies that were, to the people still in Brockton Bay, worth more than their weight in gold. People would murder each other for scraps of what was sitting there.
And that wasn't hypothetical. That was a thing that would happen.
So why they'd decided to send these things in three days after Leviathan, before the roads could be cleared or people could be accounted for, was entirely beyond him.
Of course, he wasn't here to question things, or even to worry about security. Today-
"Alright, all clear." The tech let the scanner drop, stepped back and away from the rubble. "You're good to go."
-today, he was playing snow-plow.
Rubble plow?
"Okay then." He eyed up the mess that used to be a building, before it'd been knocked down into the street. No signs of life under the mess meant he didn't need to be overly concerned in getting it out of the way. He cracked his knuckles, popped his neck, bounced on his heels a couple of times. "What is it people say? 'Fire in the hole'?"
Everybody standing nearby took an extra couple steps back. And Assault managed to smile, despite it all.
"Alright then." Back to work.
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"Alright, so what's this about?"
"A mistake. Or...several. One mistake that caused others to build up. Can't fix it all. Maybe just the one. The latest one, not the first one."
"Right. Are you feeling okay?"
"I was on a morphine drip."
"I'd hope so."
"Here's the file. Read fast. Twelve minutes."
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Alright, so maybe he hadn't needed to stay and help set up tents at the shelter. But when you could just pop a flimsy pole into concrete? Well, it was kind of hard to watch three guys struggle trying to figure out how to secure things with weight or cables or whatever they'd been trying to do before he'd stepped in.
Anyway, even if he hadn't needed to stay, that didn't mean it didn't serve his nefarious purposes.
"This is just going to make us an easy target."
Ohh yeah. Big white tents, lots of relief workers in HiVis vests, crates of supplies sitting on the street? "Preaching to the choir. I think they should have taken the fact that they needed me to clear the roads enough to get here as a sign."
That got him a dark chuckle. "At least they brought some kind of security of their own. I'll have to see if I can convince them to part with a spare weapon or two. There's bound to be something packed away."
Huh. "Superhero? Right in front of you?"
"You're going to begrudge people who've lost everything a little self-sufficiency?"
"Well, no. But I'd appreciate at least a little plausible deniability." Not that he'd had much of that to begin with. Guy had a shotgun in his lap. "You probably shouldn't talk that way, anyway. Just as a precaution." He smiled, as he tapped the side of his head, right over the little transceiver pressed against his ear.
Seemed the message was received and understood. Made him feel better, if only for a moment. The idea of people taking things into their own hands...wasn't as comforting as maybe it should have been. But really, if it came down to arming civilians and letting the gangs run roughshod?
Easy choice.
"Welp." He pushed away from the tent-pole he'd been leaning on, dusted his hands dramatically, and offered one of his best smiles. "I've been lounging around for long enough. I'll leave you folks to it, get on with my own business."
"Before you go-?"
He paused, already half turned-away.
"Can I ask you to do me a favor?"
Heh. "Would you believe that you're the second hard-ass in a wheelchair that's asked me that exact thing, today?"
Daniel Hebert looked up, his sour look turning to confusion. "...no kidding?"
Assault grinned.
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"Okay. Question. Why me? Would have figured this to be the kind of thing you go to Hannah for."
"I trust Hannah. But I know her, too. When she's uncomfortable, she falls back on the rules. Neither of us is suited for this."
"...so you're not asking Assault about this, are you?"
"Six minutes. Keep reading."
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"-which means they've all be folded into the Merchants." Assault scowled at the tag in front of him, so fresh it was still dripping in places. "Go figure that the decentralized transients bounce back from this mess so quickly. For most of them, this is just 'same shit, different day'."
"I don't think I can put that in the report." Mitchel, the dispatcher on the other end of the line, sounded tired. Understandable, considering he probably hadn't gotten any more sleep than the rest of them, the last couple of days. "But I'm not really surprised. They managed to slip under the radar for this long because we had the Empire and ABB to deal with too."
And since the Empire had imploded and the ABB'd had its teeth ripped out, Skidmark was probably shooting for the top spot. "They won't last. The vultures are circling, and some of them are bigger and meaner than anything these guys can field."
"Doesn't matter. We need to be worried about the sort of damage they can do in the meantime."
Right. Assault sighed, and turned away from the redbrick. "God, what a mess. Got this feeling we're all going to be pulling double shifts for awhile."
"Same shit, different day."
"Ain't that the truth." A jog down the alleyway built up a bit of momentum, and when he made a turn onto the street he was able to break into his usual, ground-eating stride. Latest measurements put him at almost thirty miles an hour; given the general conditions of the road and the fact that he was keeping an eye out for trouble he was doing maybe half that.
Still, pretty fast. He cleared the block in a couple seconds. "Just make sure the word gets out that the shelters on this side of town aren't safe. God knows what the junkies'll do to get to the pharmaceuticals that are going to be making their way over."
"I'll put the report in. And have a chat with a few old friends. Maybe we can convince someone up the chain that it'll be worth beefing up security."
"Ha! Good luck with that." Down another block, another sharp turn. "Nobody 'up the chain' is close enough to this crap to see-" Shouting. A gunshot. Asphalt cratered beneath his feet as he stopped to orient on the noise. "Bad guys."
"I heard." Mitchel was all business, now, clacking away at his console. "Marking your position. Backup?"
"Not necessary." Probably. A gunshot meant a gun. And there hadn't been more than a couple of voices. Down another alleyway, one that turned off ahead, probably a dead end, with no view of the street. Perfect little hideaway for violence-
A flash of light. More shouting. Assault picked up the pace, turned the corner to se...see…
Beautiful. He stopped, stilled...relaxed. Whatever fight had been in him left.
Why would he fight?
[They were all mesmerized. She was just angry. "You sorry! Mother! Fuckers!"]
It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Or heard. He watched, enraptured, enthralled. Unable to look away, to blink. The light was so bright, and warm, as she swept dim shapes aside.
[She threw one into the nearest wall. The other went limp, as she lifted him off his feet.]
And he fell to his knees, as the light roared even brighter. So bright. So bright. He spread his arms wide to welcome it, bowed low, because that was right, but he couldn't look away, couldn't look away, didn't dare to look away.
["...oh shit." She tossed the second man aside. Drifted down to the ground.]
She approached, and his pulse raced, his mind blanked, he reached out, bowed down, supplication, supplication-
["Fuck, no, no, don't…" She bit her lip. Blood welled. And then she lifted up, and away. "Look, just…"]
"...I'm sorry."
Assault came back to himself with Mitchel shouting in his ear, and those last two words ringing in his head. "I'm fine." The dispatcher cut himself off, which was good, because he really needed the quiet for a minute. "I'm fine, just…"
Shit, right. He got back to his feet, moved to the apparent victim. Gunshot wound to the head; his face was cratered in. Probably the fuckoff huge revolver the asshole by the wall seemed to have dropped. The one that hadn't pulled the trigger seemed to be in slightly better shape, given that he could move, but…
Well, a quick one-two to the kidneys while he was down put a stop to any escape plans.
"Get some people to my location. Got two for the prison hospital, one for the M.E."
"What happened out there, Assault? You were unresponsive for almost thirty seconds."
Yeah.
He looked up, like maybe he'd pick up some hint of gold. Despite knowing she was probably already long gone.
"Just a run-in with Glory. I'm fine. Just put the call in." He turned away from the crime scene, took a deep breath, and started walking. "I'm getting back to work."
Places to be, after all.
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"So...this is royally fucked."
"I've been made aware."
"And you want me to fix it."
"No. I just need someone to make sure...I need to know that it hasn't gotten worse. And I can't go myself."
"Don't think it'd end well if you could."
"Probably not."
"You're going to owe me for this."
"That's why it's a favor."
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This was the street. Unassuming, rundown residential area, just off the Docks. It had escaped the worst of the damage by dint of being away from the fighting, but it'd still taken its hits. Flooding, water damage...and already, the telltale signs of looting.
When he reached the house he'd been looking for, though, something about the way the door was broken down...well, it didn't say looting to him.
He moved in slow. Nice and quiet. Just in case. Apparently there'd been some reports of goons, guys in sweaters, guys with guns, guys who played 'generic hired hench' to the hilt, and who may or may not have answered to Coil at one point. If they'd paid the Hebert household a visit-
Creeaak.
Ah. That was a squeaky step.
Well.
"Ahoy, the house!" Stealth was abandoned for a...friendly approach. Wary, still, but he let his footsteps clunk a bit more, and he stopped a good arm's length from the door. "Annual inspection! We're on the lookout for looters and various malcontents!"
Silence. He let it linger, for a minute, just...listening. Actually, listening a little more intently than before, because there was this weird buzzing from inside. What-
Crow appeared in the doorway with a whuff.
Assault may have made a less than dignified noise.
"You're a couple days too late."
...well. Shit.
He swallowed, and stepped forward again, carefully ignoring the way he'd startled backwards to begin with. And while he was at it, he wiped away the smile. Because...well, that would explain the father's missing leg.
"I'm sorry." Nothing. She didn't move, didn't respond. That mask gave her a helluva poker face...and was that blood, there?
Oh, yes it was. Oy.
"Armsmaster sent me to check on you."
There. Cards on the table. He'd been thinking, on the way over, and disclosure...seemed like the right call. Shit was already fucked. They couldn't just dance around the issues trying to solve them, because that wasn't how you got things done.
Not that he expected it to make anyone fast friends. That'd be stupid. And he definitely wasn't stupid.
Which is why he expected the clenched fists, and the hostility radiating off the girl. Also, why he didn't react.
"He sent you here."
"A-yup."
More quiet, just a little longer...and then she reached up to just pull the mask off. She looked almost like the school photo that had been stapled into Armsmaster's file. Overtired, defeated, simmering with deeply repressed resentment and resignation.
...didn't speak well to her school life. But this was worse. The circles under her eyes looked more like actual bruises, and when she turned away to hook the mask on her belt, he caught a faint but noticeable tremor in her hands.
"Before you...arrest me, or whatever it is you're here to do, I need to take care of something."
That she was immediately jumping to 'arrest' as a possibility was interesting, but not entirely relevant. "I could probably help?" And then, before he could think of more than two reasons why it was a terrible idea, he reached up to pull the catch on his own helmet. "I'm a helpful guy. What is it you're doing?"
She stared, as the helmet came off. He smiled, and waited, ruffling his sweat-matted hair and projecting every ounce of friendliness he could scrounge up. And yeah, maybe it wasn't up to his usual standards...but she didn't teleport away, or try to hit him or anything.
"I've got to get rid of a body."
...okay, so the benefit of the doubt was...an important thing. The kind of thing he should be giving, following a girl inside to dispose of a body. "That's a-" No, not a joke.
And he could see why she'd want to get rid of it. Yikes.
"Most of them are sleeping right now." Her tone was flat, detached, and that would have been something he worried about if he wasn't also looking at one of the more disgusting things he'd seen in awhile. "When they're all active, it's...much louder."
Fuck. "What are they?"
"I've been...told...that they're called 'Bloodflies'." That didn't answer the question, but he didn't voice the complaint, because she was looking at him again. "Armsmaster told you about me?" Assault nodded, still distracted by the goddamn corpse-nest. "What about the bone Tinker?"
"Something from one of the Undersiders about a serial killer." It'd been practically a footnote, but he'd definitely noticed the double-underlined 'connection' written in the margins of the report.
And actually...those things Crow was wearing belted across her chest looked like they could have been bone…
"He worked out a way to give his henchmen powers." She nodded at the body again. "Two guys came after my dad. They were armed...so he shot one. He turned into a swarm of Bloodflies, and those killed him."
Poor bastard. "And then they just sort of…" He couldn't say it, wound up pantomiming the whole...meat-nest thing instead.
Crow...didn't seem particularly fazed by the whole thing. "They've been breeding. I can control them, but only for a little while at a time. So I need to get rid of them."
...oh, shit. "So how-?"
"I was thinking a fire."
Yeah. Fire could work. "Let's get started."
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"...so what's with the countdown, anyway? Are you going to crash off you super-secret Tinker drugs or something?"
"No. The nurses check my room everything thirty minutes."
"Oh."
"I'm going to be in a lot of trouble."
"But hey, you'll get more morphine. I think that leaves you better off than most of us."
Armsmaster glared up at him with his remaining eye. Assault felt stupid.
They sat there for a little longer, anyway.
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Helping a fifteen-year-old move a body hadn't been on his list of things to do, today. But it was happening anyway. Just...moving a body. A stiff, weirdly desiccated body. Full of very large bugs that, even under Crow's apparent control, buzzed and moved inside it.
He kept his lunch down mainly by dint of not having had a proper lunch.
"We got some word about you showing up in a shelter." Shooting a guy with a gun. Teleporting a guy out, when he'd tackled her. Given the timing of it all, he had a sneaking suspicion, but…
"The Tinker." Uh-huh. "He sent people after my dad. He'd gotten away enough times already. It wasn't going to happen again."
Implying it hadn't happened again. "...if I asked what happened to him, would you answer me?"
She didn't answer. They set the body down in the middle of the yard. Assault picked up the rubbing alcohol.
"Lady Photon came in, apparently. The Triumvirate hadn't even taken off yet." Considering what he'd heard of her story (second or third-hand accounts of it, anyway), the timing wasn't anything but intentional. "She asked about you. Whether you'd shown up anywhere."
Quiet. He passed the bottle over, and Crow twisted the cap off to upend it over the body. "...was she okay?"
What a question. "Not really." She looked up, suddenly sharp, and he sighed. "God, I hate being the bearer of bad news…" Shit, he shouldn't be dragging this out. "They lost Manpower. And Brandish. Shielder might still wake up."
He could actually see her going pale. "Victoria? Amy?"
Right, because she was besties with the Dallon girl. Fuck. "Panacea's...alive. Holding together." But not doing well, obviously. Losing family like that sucked. "Glory...Victoria...seems to be doing okay for herself, too."
She relaxed, by degrees. Took the little book of matches he offered, once he'd actually dug them out of his costume.
"...why do you have these?"
"You never know when you might need an open flame." He grinned, almost a proper, shit-eating grin. "Do you know how to-?"
She folded the book over, struck a match, and dropped it on the body. The alcohol caught light...and then they both stepped back as the corpse went up like it'd been soaked in gasoline.
"I guess these things are flammable."
Crow didn't respond. Just sort of stared at the fire.
"Hey, Crow?" Nothing. "Crow." There it was. He smiled again, as she met his eyes. "You've got a place to go, right?"
"...yeah."
He nodded, and made his way over to the back door, to pick his helmet up. "I'm glad. We're going to need every hero we can get in the next few weeks." A couple of careful knocks to make sure no dirt or bugs had gotten in, and he went about putting it on again. "Get some rest, alright? Gonna have to be ready for anything."
No response. The fire crackled, and he didn't turn to look, just fiddled with his costume…
"Okay."
Cracking, but in a relieved sort of way. Hopeful, maybe. He nodded, once, and offered a backward wave. Forewent the back door to circle around the house, and build up some speed while he was at it.
Back on the road. Comms back on.
"You done with your lunch break, ya bum?"
"Dinner for me, Mitch. I'm coming back in."
Maybe he'd get some actual sleep today.
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But first…
"Well?"
Colin looked like shit, laid out in the hospital bed. No legs, a bum arm, half his guts run by a goddam box he'd been hiding under his 'borrowed' scrubs earlier. And while the painkillers were undoubtedly helping him not be a screaming wreck, they didn't do a damn thing for his apparent functionality.
Still. "Met her. Talked a bit."
The glazed look in his eye faded, just a bit, as he made a visible effort to focus past the drugs. "And?"
Ethan started laughing.