Disclaimer: I own nothing of the dc universe.
Michael leaned back against the cold metal wall of the van, the vibrations from the road beneath him a constant reminder of the whirlwind events that had just transpired. The dim light filtering through the cracks of the van's door illuminated the faces of his companions, each lost in their own world of thoughts. The adrenaline from the robbery was still coursing through his veins, making his heart race and his palms sweaty.
He replayed the events in his mind: the meticulous planning, the tense moments when everything could have gone wrong, and the exhilarating rush when they had successfully pulled it off. The weight of what they had done began to sink in. They had committed a crime, and there was no turning back now.
The dim light inside the van painted a tableau of contemplation. Daniel, with his head leaned against the window, seemed to be lost in the rhythmic hum of the tires against the asphalt. Lisa, her fingers nervously tapping a silent rhythm on her knee, occasionally glanced around, as if expecting someone to jump out at them at any moment. Martin, the oldest and seemingly the most composed of the group, simply stared at his hands, deep in thought.
Michael's mind raced, the weight of their actions pressing heavily on his conscience. He had become a criminal. The realization was a bitter pill to swallow. He had always considered himself a man of principles, but the desperate need for survival had pushed him to cross lines he never thought he would. The image of Markus threatening the driver and his family flashed before his eyes. The sheer terror in the man's eyes, the tremble in his voice, it all played back in Michael's mind like a haunting movie reel.
He had not been the one to make those threats, but he was an accomplice. By association, he was just as guilty. The thought gnawed at him, creating a chasm of guilt and self-loathing. But another part of him tried to rationalize it. He needed the money. In this new world, where every day was a battle for survival, he had to do whatever it took. No one had gotten hurt, after all.
The van continued its journey, the city lights blurring past them. Michael's thoughts shifted to the future. With the money, he could start anew. Find a place to stay, get a job, and maybe, just maybe, find some semblance of normalcy in this chaotic world. The robbery was just a means to an end, a necessary evil.
The van took a sharp turn, its tires crunching on the gravel as it pulled into a secluded alleyway. The looming silhouette of an old warehouse stood before them, its once-red bricks now faded and stained with years of neglect. The large metal door, rusted at the edges, seemed to guard the secrets within.
Markus was the first to step out of the van, his confidence struck a stark contrast to the uncertainty that clouded the faces of the others. He glanced back, motioning for them to follow. "Come on," he said, his voice echoing slightly in the quiet of the night. "Let's get this done."
Michael hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself before stepping out onto the gravel. The cool night air was a sharp contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside the van. Daniel, Lisa, and Martin followed suit, each wearing expressions of a mix of relief and apprehension.
The group made their way to the entrance of the warehouse. The large door creaked loudly as Markus pushed it open, revealing the dimly lit interior. Rows of old wooden crates and metal shelves lined the walls, casting long shadows that danced with the flickering light from a single bulb hanging from the ceiling.
In the center of the room stood a metal table, on which lay a sleek black briefcase. Markus walked over to it, his footsteps echoing in the vast space. He paused for a moment, looking over his shoulder at the four homeless individuals who had followed him into this world of crime. "You've done well," he began, his voice filled with a mix of pride and calculation. "Now, it's time for your reward."
The atmosphere in the warehouse was thick with tension. The events of the night, the weight of their actions, and the anticipation of what was to come all converged in this moment. As Markus opened the briefcase, the soft glow of the overhead light revealed stacks of crisp bills, a tangible representation of their descent into the criminal underworld.
Michael's eyes widened as he caught sight of the money. Even though he knew they were being paid for the job, the sheer amount of cash in the briefcase was staggering. Stacks upon stacks of bills, neatly bundled, seemed to promise a life far removed from the hardships of the streets. For a brief moment, the weight of the night's events seemed to lift, replaced by the allure of the money before him.
Markus, noticing Michael's reaction, smirked. "Impressive, isn't it?" he remarked, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "This is just the beginning. Do right by me, and there's more where that came from."
Clearing his throat, Markus began to brief the group. "Firstly, congratulations are in order. You have all done exceptionally well tonight. But remember, this is just the start. The world we've stepped into is vast, and opportunities are endless."
He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "Now, for the specifics. This location," he gestured around the warehouse, "is off the grid. After tonight, we will not be using it again. It is imperative you remember that. No coming back here, no mentioning it. Understood?"
The group nodded; the gravity of Markus's words was not lost on them.
"As for the money," Markus continued, tapping the briefcase lightly, "it's yours to spend as you see fit. But if you are interested in more work, more opportunities, there is a place you can go. Downtown, there is a laundromat on 47th Street, the one with the blue awning. Ask for Jackson. He'll set you up with what you need."
With a practiced motion, Markus opened the briefcase and began distributing the money, counting out even stacks for each of them. The crisp bills felt surreal in Michael's hands, a stark contrast to the grimy coins and tattered notes he was used to.
Markus's gaze then settled on Michael, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. "The choice is yours. The streets, or a life of possibilities. But remember, every choice has its consequences."
With that, Markus closed the briefcase with a snap, signaling the end of the briefing. The atmosphere in the warehouse shifted once again, the promise of a new beginning mingling with the uncertainty of the path ahead.
As Markus made his exit, the heavy metal door of the warehouse clanging shut behind him, the remaining four found themselves enveloped in a silence that was almost palpable. The dim lighting cast long shadows, making the vast space feel even more cavernous. The weight of the money in their hands, the reality of their actions, and the uncertainty of the future seemed to press down on them all.
It was Lisa who first broke the silence. "There's a decent motel a few blocks from here. Clean, quiet, and they don't ask too many questions. We could crash there for the night."
Michael looked around at the group, taking in their tired faces and worn-out clothes. "I think it's a good idea," he began, his voice steady. "We've been through a lot tonight. It might be best if we stick together, at least for a little while. Safety in numbers, right?"
Daniel, rubbing the back of his neck, nodded in agreement. "Sounds good to me. I could use a hot shower and a bed that isn't a cardboard box."
Martin, the oldest of the group, gave a weary smile. "A bed sounds heavenly right about now."
Michael continued, "Let's each get our own room. We've got the money now, and it'll give us some space to think, to process everything."
Lisa's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. "And maybe even enjoy a bit of that luxury we've just earned."
The tension in the air seemed to dissipate as the group shared a collective chuckle. With a newfound sense of camaraderie, they made their way out of the warehouse, the promise of a comfortable night's sleep guiding their steps.
The quartet made their way through the dimly lit streets, the city's nocturnal hum a constant backdrop. Michael's hand instinctively slid into his pocket, fingers brushing against the wad of cash. It felt surreal, this sudden windfall. For so long, he had been scraping by, living on the fringes, and now, he had a chance at something more.
As they walked, his mind raced. The metagene. The very word had been a beacon of hope for many in this world, a genetic lottery ticket that could transform an ordinary person into someone extraordinary. But Michael was not from this universe. Did the rules even apply to him? He had no way of knowing, but deep down, a part of him doubted it. He was not born of this world, and its gifts might not be meant for him.
But he was not one to wallow in self-pity. If he did not have the metagene, he would find another way. Technology, perhaps. This world was brimming with advanced tech, and with the right tools, he could carve out a niche for himself. An identity that would allow him to blend in, to thrive.
Lost in thought, he almost did not notice when they arrived at the motel Lisa had mentioned. It was a modest two-story building, its neon sign flickering intermittently. But it looked clean and welcoming, a far cry from the cold, hard streets they were used to.
Lisa approached the front desk, exchanging a few words with the clerk and handing the man some money who looked around then passed Lisa some keys before turning back to the group. "Got us four rooms. Top floor, away from the street noise."
Daniel let out a relieved sigh. "Bless you, Lisa. I'm beat."
Martin nodded in agreement, his age showing in the lines of fatigue on his face. "Let's get some rest. Tomorrow's a new day."
Michael, still lost in his thoughts, simply nodded. As they each took their keys and headed to their respective rooms, he could not help but feel a mix of hope and trepidation. The future was uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he had some control over it.
As he was about to use his key to open his room a thought occurred to him.
"Hey," Michael called out just as they were about to disappear into their rooms. They all turned to him, curious. "How about we meet up around noon tomorrow? Explore the town a bit, go to the mall, maybe grab some lunch together?"
Lisa smiled, "Sounds like a plan. I know a few good spots we can check out."
Daniel gave a thumbs up. "Count me in."
Martin simply nodded in agreement.
With that settled, Michael unlocked his room and stepped inside. The moment the door closed behind him, the weight of the day's events pressed down on him. The adrenaline that had kept him going through the robbery and its aftermath had worn off, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. Without bothering to properly undress, he collapsed onto the bed, the soft mattress cradling him. Within moments, he was fast asleep.
o-o-o-o-o
The morning sun filtering through the curtains roused Michael from his slumber. Stretching, he felt the kinks in his muscles ease. The sensation of waking up in a real bed, with soft sheets and a plush pillow, was nothing short of divine. Glancing at the clock, he noted it was only 10 am. He had time.
"I'll never take these small comforts for granted again," he whispered to himself, a promise.
Eager to wash away the grime and sweat, Michael headed to the bathroom, throwing his clothes on the bed.
The bathroom was modest, but to Michael, it felt like a sanctuary. The nice-looking tiles, the gleaming faucet, and the neatly folded towels on the rack were all symbols of a life he had once known and yearned for. Turning on the faucet, he let the water run for a moment, watching as steam began to rise, fogging up the mirror.
Stepping into the shower, the initial burst of hot water against his skin was almost overwhelming. It was as if every drop was melting away the layers of grime, sweat, and the hardships of being homeless. The sensation was intoxicating. He tilted his head back, allowing the water to cascade over his face, down his neck, and across his shoulders. Each droplet felt like a tiny, warm embrace, reminding him of the comfort and security he had been missing.
The soap lathered easily in his hands, and as he scrubbed, he could feel the dirt and weariness being washed away. Every stroke of his hands felt therapeutic, as if he were not just cleaning his body, but also purifying his soul. The scent of the soap, a simple, clean aroma, filled his nostrils, further adding to the sensation of renewal.
He took his time, letting the water massage his aching muscles, and relishing the simple luxury of the moment. For those minutes, the world outside ceased to exist. There were no robberies, no threats, no worries about the next meal. There was just the blissful sensation of hot water, the gentle hum of the bathroom fan, and the feeling of being reborn.
Finally, with a sense of reluctance, Michael turned off the water. He stood there for a moment, letting the remaining droplets roll off his skin, savoring the last moments of this newfound luxury.
Wrapping a towel around himself, he stepped out, feeling lighter, cleaner, and more alive than he had in a very long time, the cool air of the room causing goosebumps to rise on his skin. He wiped the fog from the mirror and took a moment to look at his reflection. The man staring back was different, not just cleaner, but more alive, more hopeful.
He opened the door, letting the steam escape into the main room. The sight of his old, worn-out clothes on the bed was a stark reminder of his financial situation prior to last night. They seemed out of place in this moment of renewal. With a sigh, he approached the bed, picking up the familiar garments. The fabric felt rough against his newly cleansed skin, but they were all he had for now. Slipping into his jeans and pulling on his shirt, he was reminded of the simple luxury of fresh clothes, something he was eager to indulge in soon.
Fully dressed, he sat on the edge of the bed.
The coarse fabric of his old clothes felt foreign against his freshly cleaned skin. As Michael pulled on his worn-out jeans and faded shirt, he could not help but grimace at the stark contrast between his rejuvenated self and the tattered garments that had been his only wardrobe for months. The thought of shopping for new clothes, of choosing fabrics that felt soft and comforting, was tantalizing. He imagined himself in a crisp shirt, well-fitted jeans, and shoes that did not have holes in them. The idea brought a small smile to his face.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he spread out the money before him, the bills crisp and neatly stacked. It was more money than he had seen in a long time, and the weight of its potential was both exhilarating and daunting. He could do so much about it, but he also knew the dangers that came with it. Victor and Markus were wild cards, unpredictable and ruthless. The job had been a means to an end, but Michael had no intention of getting entangled in their world any longer than necessary.
His fingers traced the edges of the bills as his mind raced. A new identity was paramount. He did not need anything elaborate, just enough to blend in, to start afresh. He pondered on the logistics, knowing that in this world, with the right connections, it was possible. And with the money in hand, he had a ticket to those connections.
Thoughts of Lisa, Daniel, and Martin drifted into his mind. They had been through so much together in such a short span. The bond of shared adversity was strong, and he hoped they would choose to stay close. But he also recognized the pull of individual dreams and aspirations. They each had their own paths to tread, and he respected that.
Paul. The thought of the older man brought warmth to Michael's heart. Paul had been a beacon of hope and guidance in the darkest of times. The idea of providing a home for both, a place of safety and comfort, was deeply appealing. It would be his way of giving back, of showing gratitude for the kindness he had received.
The weight of the money in his hand, the weight of his decisions, and the weight of his past all seemed to press down on him simultaneously.
The sudden knock on the door jolted him from his reverie.
He quickly gathered all the money and put it in his pocket, his heart raced, thoughts of Markus or even Victor immediately flooding his mind. The last thing he needed was a surprise visit from either of them.
"Michael? It's Martin," came the voice from the other side, dispelling his fears. "Everyone's up and ready to roll."
Relief washed over him, and Michael quickly stood, making his way to the door. As he swung it open, he was met with the sight of his three companions. Daniel, with his ever-present grin, Martin, looking refreshed, and Lisa, whose beauty seemed to glow even brighter in the morning light. Michael's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than he intended.
Caught in the act, Martin chuckled, "Looks like someone's got a bit of a morning crush, eh?"
Daniel joined in, winking, "Can't blame him, can we?"
Lisa, however, rolled her eyes playfully, stepping forward to lightly punch Martin's arm. "Oh, come on, give him a break. We've all had a long night." She turned to Michael, her eyes softening, "Don't mind them."
Michael, slightly embarrassed but grateful for Lisa's defense, chuckled, "Thanks, Lisa. And for the record, you all look... refreshed."
The playful banter continued as the group made their way out of the motel, the morning sun casting a golden hue over the city streets.
The decision to head to the mall brought an unexpected lightness to Michael's heart. As they walked the city streets, the weight of the money in his pocket was a tangible reminder of the possibilities that lay ahead. But more than the money, it was the company he was in that made the difference. For the first time since his unexpected arrival in the DC universe, he felt a sense of belonging. The camaraderie with Lisa, Martin, and Daniel was genuine, and the simple act of walking side by side with them, laughing at shared jokes and discussing plans, was a balm to his previously lonely existence.
The city around them was alive with activity. Cars honked, street vendors called out their wares, and pedestrians hurried about their day. Yet, amidst the hustle and bustle, Michael felt a sense of calm. The world might be different, but the essence of human connection remains the same.
As they approached the mall, the grandeur of the building stood out. Glass facades reflected the midday sun, and the entrance buzzed with shoppers coming and going. Michael took a deep breath, the scent of freshly baked goods from a nearby bakery filling his nostrils. He looked at his companions, their faces lit up with anticipation.
"We're here," Lisa announced, her eyes shining with excitement.
Michael grinned, "Let the shopping spree begin!" The group's laughter echoed as they stepped into the mall, ready to embrace the new experiences that awaited them.
The mall was bustling with activity as the group entered. Families with children, teenagers spending time together, and shoppers of all ages moved about, creating a lively atmosphere. The scent of food from the food court wafted through the air, mingling with the subtle fragrance of perfumes from nearby stores. The ambient noise of chatter, laughter, and the distant hum of music from various shops filled the space.
"Alright," Michael began, looking around and taking in the vast expanse of the mall, "first order of business: new clothes." He glanced down at his worn-out attire, feeling out of place amidst the well-dressed shoppers.
Lisa nodded in agreement, her eyes scanning the directory. "There's a clothing store on the next floor. Let's start there."
Martin clapped his hands together, "Sounds like a plan. Daniel, you're with me. We'll tackle the men's section."
Daniel smirked, "Lead the way, old man."
Michael chuckled at their banter, then turned to Lisa, "Guess it's you and me then. Ladies first?"
Lisa smiled, "Why thank you, kind sir." She playfully curtsied, causing Michael to laugh.
The two pairs split up, with Martin and Daniel heading towards the escalator that led to the men's section, while Michael and Lisa made their way to the women's section. As they walked, Michael could not help but steal glances at Lisa. Her hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. It was evident that, like him, she was relishing the opportunity to start anew.
They soon found themselves amidst racks of clothing, with Lisa enthusiastically pulling out dresses, tops, and jeans to try on. Michael, on the other hand, was more reserved, selecting a few shirts and pants that caught his eye from the nearby clearance section.
"You should try this," Lisa said, holding up a sleek black jacket. "It would look great on you."
Michael raised an eyebrow, "You think?"
Lisa nodded, "Trust me. And maybe pair it with these jeans." She handed him a pair of dark-washed denim.
Taking her advice, Michael headed to the fitting room. As he tried on the clothes, he marveled at how well they fit and how good they made him feel. It was a stark contrast to the tattered clothes he had been wearing for so long. He could not help but stand there looking in the mirror for a while. It was amazing how new clothes can feel after wearing the same outfit for weeks.
He emerged from the fitting room with a new sense of confidence.
Lisa, who had been browsing nearby, looked up and smiled approvingly. "Told you it'd look good," she said with a wink.
Michael was about to thank her when his gaze inadvertently drifted. Lisa stood there in a form-fitting outfit that accentuated her curves, her red hair cascading down her shoulders, contrasting beautifully with her dark green clothes. Her blue eyes sparkled, but it was her overall aura that had Michael momentarily lost for words.
Lisa, noticing his lingering gaze, playfully raised an eyebrow and pointed to her eyes. "Eyes up here, mister," she teased.
Caught off guard, Michael's face turned a shade of crimson. "I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
Lisa laughed, waving off his apology. "Don't worry about it," she said, her voice light and playful. "Just remember to breathe next time."
Michael chuckled, grateful for her easy-going nature. "I'll try to remember that" he replied, his embarrassment slowly fading as they continued their shopping adventure.
There was a moment of silence then Michael asked, "Thanks for the recommendation about the clothes. Ready to check out?"
Lisa nodded, "Let's do it. Then we can meet up with Martin and Daniel."
The two made their way to the cashier, their spirits lifted by the simple joy of shopping and the promise of a fresh start.
Michael noticed Lisa had chosen a few more outfits, all of which he imagined would look just as stunning on her.
As they waited in line, Martin and Daniel approached, each carrying their selections. Martin had chosen a rugged leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, while Daniel sported a more casual look with a graphic tee and cargo shorts.
"Looking sharp, guys!" Lisa commented, giving them both an approval once-over.
Daniel grinned, adjusting his new cap. "Thought I'd try something different," he said, nodding towards his outfit.
Martin chuckled, "I just went with what's comfortable. Plus, this jacket was too good to pass up."
The group shared a moment of camaraderie, appreciating the simple pleasure of new clothes after their shared hardships. One by one, they paid for their items, with each of them wearing their chosen outfits outside of the store, leaving their old, worn-out clothes behind in the trash.
Feeling refreshed and with a renewed sense of purpose, the group decided to celebrate their mini makeover. "How about some food?" Daniel suggested. "I saw the all-you-can-eat restaurant on the way in I told you guys about."
Lisa's eyes lit up. "I'm starving! Let's do it."
The four of them made their way to the restaurant, the aroma of freshly cooked food wafting through the air. They took a table near the window, enjoying the view of the bustling mall outside. The ambiance of the place was warm and inviting, with soft music playing in the background and the gentle hum of conversations from other diners.
A cheerful waitress approached their table, handing out menus. "Welcome! Can I start you off with some drinks?"
After they placed their drink orders, they each took a moment to peruse the menu. The choices were vast, from salads and sandwiches to steaks and pastas. But for Michael, the choice was simple. He craved the comfort of a classic hamburger and fries.
Once their orders were placed, there was a palpable sense of anticipation. When the food finally arrived, the table went silent. The sight of the well-presented dishes, the aroma, it was all overwhelming in the best possible way. Michael looked down at his burger, the juices dripping from the perfectly cooked patty, the lettuce and tomato fresh, and the bun toasted to perfection. The fries were golden and crispy. He took a bite, and it was as if all his senses were heightened. The taste was divine, every flavor pronounced and harmonious. It felt like a feast fit for a king, even if it was just a simple meal.
Lisa savored her pasta, Daniel relished his steak, and Martin seemed to be in heaven with his grilled chicken. They ate with fervor, each bite a testament to their recent hardships and the simple joys they had been deprived of.
Once the plates were clean, and the initial food euphoria had subsided, Michael leaned back in his chair, a contented sigh escaping his lips. He looked around at his companions, each lost in their thoughts.
"So," Michael began, breaking the silence, "what's next for everyone? I mean, we've got some money now, new clothes, a fresh start. What are you all thinking?"
The table grew quiet as each of them pondered the weight of the question, each considering their next steps in this unpredictable journey.
Daniel cleared his throat, his eyes darting around the table before settling on his half-empty glass. "I'm thinking of heading to Coast City," he began, his voice slightly shaky. "I have a sister there, Iris West. Maybe some of you have heard of her? She's a journalist."
Michael's heart skipped a beat. Iris West. But he kept his face neutral, not wanting to interrupt Daniel's flow.
Daniel continued, "After our mom passed, things got... tough. Dad turned to the bottle, and it wasn't long before he turned his anger on us. One night, things got really bad. I... I pushed him. Down the stairs." Daniel's voice broke, and he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "He was crippled after that. I couldn't stay, so I ran. Left Iris behind. I've regretted it every day since."
The table was silent, the weight of Daniel's confession hanging in the air. Lisa reached over, placing a comforting hand on his arm. Martin nodded, a silent gesture of understanding.
"I just want to make things right," Daniel whispered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Get enough money so Iris and I can have a fresh start. She deserves that much."
The reactions around the table were supportive of him. Lisa looked ready to cry, Martin simply nodded without saying a word, putting a hand on Daniel's shoulder and simply said, "We all have our reasons, Daniel. And we all deserve a second chance."
Michael nodded in agreement with Martin while his thoughts focused on the connection to Iris West.
The name echoed in his mind, and before he could stop himself, the words "Flash's wife" slipped out.
The table went silent. Daniel's brows furrowed in confusion. "What? No, she's not married, especially not to a superhero."
Lisa and Martin exchanged glances, sensing the tension. Michael felt a pang of regret. He had been so careful up to this point, trying not to reveal any knowledge of the DC universe.
He tried to recover, "Oh, I must've confused her with someone else. You know, celebrity gossip and all." He chuckled nervously, hoping to diffuse the situation.
It did not seem to work as everyone was still looking at him.
"Just something I overheard once," Michael replied, avoiding eye contact.
Martin, sensing the need to change the subject, chimed in, "Well, whatever you decide, Daniel, we're here for you. And as for me, I'm going to my son. It's been too long."
Lisa nodded, "I'm not sure what I'll do yet. Maybe find a job, settle down somewhere."
The conversation continued, but Michael's mind was elsewhere. He wondered about the implications of his slip-up. Had he inadvertently changed the future? Only time would tell.
"What about you, man?" Daniel asked.
Before Michael could response a sudden commotion at the entrance of the restaurant caught their attention. A man, visibly agitated, stormed in. His eyes darted around the room before settling on the restaurant owner, who was standing behind the counter.
"You!" he shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the owner. "You ruined my life!"
The atmosphere in the restaurant grew tense. Patrons whispered among themselves, trying to understand the situation. The man's hand moved to his jacket, pulling out a gun. Gasps filled the room, and the hum of conversations was replaced by a deafening silence.
"Everyone, get down!" he commanded, waving the gun menacingly. The diners, including Michael and his friends, quickly ducked under their tables, their faces etched with fear.
The man's voice trembled with rage. "You took everything from me! My job, my girl... You're going to pay for this."
Michael peeked from under the table, his heart racing. He locked eyes with Lisa, Daniel, and Martin, all of them sharing the same look of terror. The weight of the situation pressed down on them, and equipped with the chilling realization that their newfound freedom and hope might be short-lived.
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