Chapter Two Hundred and Six
...
A crash felt like it shook the building down to the foundation. Josie woke up with a start, her heart racing. She immediately felt that she was in her super suit and powered up, readying herself for a fight. She looked around, blinking blearily in confusion when she recognised her bedroom wallpaper and curtains. She wasn't in a building that was crashing down, she was at home. The crashing feeling and noise happened again, accompanied with cursing, and Josie sat back down on her bed not too gently.
"What's it? Dear, what's... is there a villain?" Steve asked beside her, his face smushed into the blanket and leaving a dent on the expensive memory foam.
Josie was too tired to care, which spoke volumes of her exhaustion. "It's Will."
"He's a villain?" Steve asked, frowning and opening his eyes.
"Super God, no! Steve, how could you even say such a thing?!" she admonished, tempted to hit his shoulder but knowing better from experience. "Will's downstairs making breakfast. He probably heard how late we got home this morning and wanted to spoil us."
"That's nice," Steve said with a giant yawn, closing his eyes to go back to sleep.
"Sit up, Steve. We want to be ready when he brings the food in," Josie said, then realised she was in her super suit once more, stepping out of bed to change into a pair of suitable pyjamas.
Steve went to protest, moved and realised how uncomfortable his super suit was to sleep in, and decided to change as well. Far more awake by the time he'd changed, Steve yawned and stretched. "What do you think he's making for us? We've got pancake mix, don't we?"
"The Commander's Super Pancake Shake bottle, of course. I should call them about replacing our yearly stock; with the way you and Will eat, we're nearly out."
"The apple and cinnamon or the blueberry?"
"Both; we had the last of the blueberry ones for your birthday."
Steve went to say something, but then the kitchen fire alarm started sounding, and Josie flew downstairs like a shot.
Smoke filled the kitchen and Will was screaming and waving a tea towel at the stove where fire was coming out of a pot. Josie flew forward to turn the heat off, covered the pot with the lid to stop the flames, then opened the kitchen door, and grabbed a larger tea towel to redirect the smoke outside. Will helped, almost blowing her forward entirely, and Josie moved so she was out of Will's range.
Slowly, the smoke lessened, and Josie flew up to reset the fire alarm. "What in Captain Stronghold's name happened here?!"
Will swallowed hard, knowing it was especially bad if his mother had used his grandfather's name. "I was cooking breakfast and it caught on fire out of nowhere!"
"How can you mess up shake pancakes this badly?" Josie asked, fanning her face and trying to get the smell of fire out of her nose.
"I was making eggs; the recipe said to oil them, see?"
Josie looked at the recipe card from her very own recipe box that Will was holding out. "It says boil, Will, not oil. How much oil did you use?" she asked in alarm, seeing the recipe called for a pot to be half-filled.
"Uhhh, a lot?" Will replied, looking over his shoulder at the kitchen bench where several empty bottles of oil now sat.
Josie moved forward to see for herself, her eyes widening as she recognised the bottles. "Why... that's the truffle oil and the farmer's market olive oil? Oh, you... you wasted forty dollars of oil on one egg?" she asked, looking into the pot to see a single egg inside.
"Forty dollars?" Will asked, his jaw dropping.
"One egg? I thought we were having pancakes?" Steve asked, coming into the kitchen far too late to help with anything.
"Will attempted to cook a single egg, and this is what happened," Josie said, indicating to the sooty kitchen and far too many empty oil bottles on the bench.
"Ah. I remember my first time trying to cook; I almost took down a corner block after I threw a tray."
"Steve! Do not encourage this!"
"I'm not encouraging, dear, I'm commiserating. I didn't know I had to use an oven mitt. It was my first time on my own," Steve added.
Will knew just how to distract his parents. "I was thinking I could move out, y'know, get a place of my own."
Josie dropped the pot of boiling hot oil, liquid splashing out. She hurried to fly back, Will flying back with a surprised yelp, and Steve ducking back behind the kitchen door.
"Mum, what the hell?!"
"Language!" Josie snapped back at Will. "You're too young to move out on your own, Will."
"I'm seventeen!"
"You can't even boil an egg; if you move out, who will make your breakfast?"
Steve knew that Josie coddled Will far too much, but even he had to agree that Will moving out on his own would be too much too soon. "Son, you don't know how difficult it can be to live on your own. It's a lot of responsibility and a lot of money."
Will folded his arms over his chest. "We've got enough money to buy a hundred apartments! Besides, I'm responsible! I'm a Hero, remember?"
"That's... different. Will, you don't know the reality of living on your own; there are bills and cleaning and grocery shopping and cooking, and deciding what to cook every single day, and that's just the basics! You haven't got a job to earn an income for expenses; you can't just use the Stronghold account for everything," Josie said, trying to explain and recover from her shock and surprise.
"I'm getting a job!" Will burst out; he wasn't entirely sure this whole thing was a great idea anymore but he'd said it now and had to follow through just to prove a point. "I was... I'm going to go into real estate. Y'know, like both of you," he added, hoping his tone was reverent and pleasing enough.
Josie gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth. "Oh, Will! You're going into the family business?! Oh, we'll have to get a new suit for you and a name tag, and - oh, Steve, quick, we have to get Will added into the payroll system before this cycle ends!"
Steve nodded firmly, then drew his son into a firmer hug. "I'm so proud of you, Will. You're going to be the greatest real estate agent the world has ever seen! We'll teach you all of our tips and tricks of the business, and you'll win the Realtor Award within the year, you'll see!" he said, letting go of Will and clapping him on the shoulder.
"Uh, that's great," Will said weakly, already overwhelmed by the pressure.
Thankfully neither of his parents seemed to notice, both talking excitedly about Will joining their realty team.
What had he done?!
...
"365? Is it really you?"
The voice was soft and hesitant, but Deimos focused on Indigo immediately, reaching out to grab her searching hand and press it to his cheek. He let out a soft sigh of relief, one that was echoed by Indigo.
"Oh, look at you," Indigo murmured, cupping his thin cheeks and sharp bones, both thinner and sharper than her last memory of his face.
Deimos closed his eyes as she tenderly touched and mapped his face, and thought of the kitten he'd fed instead of himself, a smile tugging at his lips. "Worth it. How are you here?"
"We got rescued. All of us. I wish you'd been there," Indigo said, squeezing gently as her fingertips brushed against scars and bumped welts from electrical torture among other kinds of torture, both new and old.
"I was too old to stay at the orphanage, Indy. It was this, become one of their emotionless drones, or death. This was better than the other two."
"365 - "
"Deimos. Not 365."
"Never again, Deimos," Indigo said, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, her thumb caught between their lips. "All that matters is that you're alive," she said.
"Same goes for you, Indy. I've been worried ever since those scientists talked about the orphanage being emptied and the Wardens destroyed. Then I got a kitten to distract me in the next minute," he said with a grin.
Indigo frowned. "You got a kitten? While you were being tortured?"
"It was an experiment to see if I'd prioritise the kitten over myself. They tried to use her against me, too, but then I killed them both."
Indigo's frown disappeared with a smile, vindictive and sharp. "Good. Now, where's your kitten? Do I get to meet her? She survived, didn't she?"
"In a sense. She's stone. So's the original cat they sent in. Poor thing needed a vet and it was gonna die in there, so I turned it to stone to keep it safe."
"They're both stone and alive?"
"Yeah, they are. I've just gotta undo the stone process and they'll be fine."
"You worked out how to do it?" Indigo asked, surprised, and somewhere between happy and shocked because he'd been working on the skill for so long, but they both knew that the torture he'd been through had likely been the cause of his breakthrough.
"Yeah. About a month after I failed to graduate. One of the scientists tried a needle in my eyes to see if that was the source of my power, and he did it through an eye mask so I didn't know when it was coming. It... hurt. Enough to work out what I needed to do, not that I told them that, of course."
Indigo's hands had fallen from his cheeks to his shoulders and she gripped tightly. "Yeah, I know the feeling." There was a brief moment of silence between them as they both remembered similar torture techniques being tested on Indigo at the orphanage over the years. She let out a shuddering breath and eased her tight grip on his shoulders. "So, where are the cat and kitten, and what are their names?"
Indigo was giving both of them an out, to steer the conversation away from their memories, and Deimos took Indigo's hands and took the offered out. "I'll get them and introduce you."
...
Morana blinked her eyes open, her mind immediately recognising the walls and ceiling and bed. She was home! She was home, alive, no longer kidnapped, and... She remembered Maleah's body, the bullet in her lungs, the emotion she'd felt at seeing her family and friends, the emotion she'd felt at never seeing her family and friends again, the emotion of -
Her phone rang on her bedside table, and she looked over to see it charging with her suitcase sitting beside her bed neatly and otherwise untouched. An envelope sat on top of the suitcase which made her frown, but her phone was still ringing and she saw the screen showing 'Hourglass'.
"Hello?"
"Good morning Morana. I had to call or you were going to fall asleep and miss your flight."
"Miss my what?" Morana asked in confusion, sitting up and reaching for the envelope on her suitcase.
"You'll see. A taxi will be arriving in half an hour, do be quick about getting ready; your husband is worried about you and will be delighted to know you're returning to your honeymoon after all. You've got a good one in him; he's spent most of the last two days gathering pamphlets for activities you can do together. He was planning on taking you back for a second honeymoon."
"Aww, that's so sweet."
"It is, but act surprised when he shows you tomorrow. You can tell him you're flying back today, and he'll meet you at the airport. Now, I left overnight oats in the fridge for you, eat that after your shower, and do not check your bank account until you're already sitting on the plane. Understood?"
Morana frowned again, but was distracted by the plane ticket she'd pulled out of the envelope. "Direct and first class?"
She'd never even flown Business class, let alone First class!
Honey grinned. "You're welcome."
Morana had no idea what to say or do, but she did realise a second later that Honey had ended the call, the flight was leaving in four hours and she needed to be at the airport in less than an hour to make the three-hour check-in time with her luggage. Setting the envelope aside, Morana ran for the bathroom to shower.
Half an hour later, she was ready for the taxi as it pulled up. She ignored Mrs. Beets' curious face from her window, and hurried down to get in the taxi. The driver made small talk about everything that had happened in Maxville, and Morana was kind of glad she'd missed it all.
She checked in for her flight, was shown to the airport lounge - another exclusive she'd never had before - and to avoid her temptation to check her bank account, she messaged her husband to let him know she'd be returning to their honeymoon after all.
The excited responses she received made Morana smile, a feeling of calm settling over her that she hadn't felt since leaving her brand new husband alone on their honeymoon. Excited to return to him and the adventure they were starting together, Morana replied in kind. She was startled by a notification popping up for a new email - she swore she'd turned it off on her honeymoon - and then saw the sender and subject line. It was an email about the job offer for the morgue in New York.
Despite Marvin's teasing about New York offering her three times her current salary, Morana had only been offered double. She knew it was good money, but even despite being the super-capital of the world, Maxville wasn't nearly as expensive as New York. She really liked the job offer though, and she had yet to reject the opportunity.
Opening the email now, Morana saw that they'd amended their offer. They hadn't tripled her salary, they'd quadrupled it. $320,000 when she barely made $80,000 now?! Would that even be enough to rent an apartment? Her husband had said she should take the double offer since his job was remote, but they really needed to talk about the logistics and budget properly first.
Extremely glad to have the extra time in a quiet lounge to do sums so she could present it to her husband when she was settled in their honeymoon suite, Morana spent the next two hours determining everything and even researched apartments for an average rent, utilities, and other costs like food increase.
She was fairly satisfied with what she'd found and put together by the time she had to board, and it was only as she was in her seat that Morana even remembered Hourglass' advice about not checking her bank account until she was on the plane.
A small shriek had one of the attendants hurrying over to the first class passenger in concern. "Ma'am, are you all right?"
Morana had covered her mouth, though she was pale and could feel her body trembling in her comfortable and padded seat. She nodded and stayed silent.
Hourglass had transferred a million dollars, not a hundred thousand. All of the budgeting she'd done on the new proposed salary meant they could live in New York on the verge of comfort, and the million dollars meant they would actually enjoy it, not just be squished in a tiny shoebox of an apartment! It wouldn't last long if they spent it all, of course, so she'd need to find someone to help sort it out and -
Wait. What if the transfer had been a mistake? The difference was an extra zero, nothing more. She shouldn't get ahead of herself. She might have to transfer it back.
"If you're sure, ma'am?" the flight attendant said, still clearly concerned.
"I'm... I'm fine. Thank you," Morana said, her voice a croak above a whisper.
Morana waited until the flight attendant had left to deal with other passengers before looking at her phone, a new text message being received right at that same moment.
Hourglass: It's not a mistake, Morana. Enjoy your flight and the rest of your honeymoon.
...
"Can you believe we have to go to school tomorrow?" Craig asked with a groan.
Zach snorted. "I'm still glad we didn't have to go today. Imagine trying to study for midterms when we're planning a prison break?"
"I'm going to be useless for the rest of the week," Corvin declared.
"Fine, so long as you aren't useless today," Adam said, rolling his eyes.
"It would be preferred if you were not useless for the rest of the week, either. Midterms can help determine your strengths and weaknesses so you know what to focus on for the rest of the year," Ethan said.
"Standardised tests aren't the best way to determine strengths or weaknesses, and I refuse to submit that my intelligence rests on my ability to remember answers."
Ethan sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I understand your reasoning and concerns, however, this grading system does rely on remembering answers. If you're concerned about a particular class, I have mnemonics for each subject's main theories and topics for both hero and hero support."
"I'm fine, but thanks for the offer," Corvin said with a nod.
"I'll take 'em. Do they rhyme too?" Craig asked.
"No, but they use the iambic metre so it sounds rhythmic."
"Nice, I can do that. Thanks, Eth, you're the best."
Ethan smiled. "Thank you, I appreciate the validation. Now, please focus on our mission."
"Yes, sir," Craig said with a cheeky salute.
Layla listened to their conversation absentmindedly, her attention focused on the streets around them. AAA Contractors had done their job well and the streets themselves were clear of debris, though there were still buildings with giant holes or overturned cars in some places that made it obvious a fight had occurred.
"You all right, hippie?" Warren asked beside her.
"Hmm. Looks like we missed quite the party," she said with a smile, nodding out to Maxville around them.
Warren grinned. "We had a party of our own."
"True. Are you worried about this?" Layla asked, turning to look at him properly. "I know you weren't pleased about me dealing with the police."
"That's just because of them, not you. I know you can do it without an issue."
Layla smiled softly and leaned over to kiss him. "I'll let you know if I run into any trouble."
"Thanks, hippie," Warren said, his voice tinged with relief and his shoulders dropping slightly.
"Get a room!" Craig called with a laugh.
"Maybe later," Layla replied, kissing Warren once more before settling back on her seat.
"We are arriving at your destination. Please take care," Nigel added, a hint of worry and sadness in his voice.
"We will, Nige. You okay?" Zach asked, frowning.
"No. No, I am not. I will be, though; my programming will assist," Nigel said.
Zach looked like he wanted to say something else, but then the doors opened. "You look after yourself, okay, Nige?"
"I intend to, Mr. Brighton. Please leave the vehicle in an orderly fashion," Nigel prompted, everyone spilling out of the doors and hurrying to their places across Westville.
With the teenagers gone, Nigel rearranged his limousine body to a smaller and less noticeable vehicle's shape, his frame unlocking and sliding down to a regular five-seater. Driving through Westville and Maxville, Nigel bypassed the Sanctuary and continued driving. Heading for a different destination entirely, Nigel remained silent as he drove through the streets.
Quentin received an unexpected text from Bader, his initial brief smile at his boyfriend's name on his phone fading as he read the text. Bader was cancelling their date for that night as his younger sister, Maleah, had died unexpectedly and he needed to spend time with his family. Quentin had no idea how to respond to that other than complete shock and concern. He cared little about the date, he only cared about Bader. He knew how much Bader loved his siblings, even if he complained about the large family and babysitting from time to time, and Quentin had been shown pictures of each of Bader's siblings that he'd committed to memory so he could introduce himself to them properly (which was alphabetically, according to Bader) when the time came. Now, he'd never get to meet Maleah.
Quentin: I am so sorry for your loss, Bader. Take all the time you need. I'm here if you need anything.
His message showed as read and Bader responded by hearting the message, but he didn't reply with another text. Quentin wondered if he should do something or send something.
Were flowers or a card or food appropriate? Should he send all three? Should he do it in person or by a courier? What did he say or do? Could anything as ridiculous as a piece of paper convey his actual sorrow and help Bader through this properly?
Another text arrived and Quentin looked from the new message, and out the garage's window to see that Nigel really was at the gate.
"Nigel? What are you doing here?"
"I need lasers and whatever weapons will fit, Mr. Quentin. I am willing to sacrifice my frame for them," Nigel replied.
...
Jeslyn paused outside of Eddie's room, taking a large breath in and exhaling slowly before opening the door. She wasn't nervous to see Eddie in hospital - she'd seen him after his appendix had been taken out, then his tonsils, and then again when he'd broken an arm after a heist gone wrong a few years back - but this was the first time she was nervous he'd blame her for his state and hospitalisation. A broken rib and the amount of internal bleeding he'd had weren't simple injuries or the result of his own body betraying him - they were a result of a decision she had made.
"Ah, finally. Was wonderin' when I'd see you, Jeslyn. Took your time comin' to visit," Eddie said with a grin, looking far too pleased to see her considering everything he'd been through.
"I... My flight was delayed," she lied, knowing he'd pick up on the cue.
"Ah, fuck. Super Airways again? I keep tellin' you to go with anyone but them."
"Yeah, I know. But they're cheap."
"And look where that gets you: late to your own brother's hospitalisation. I could've been discharged before you arrived."
Jeslyn didn't glance over her shoulder to where a police officer was flirting with a nurse at the nurse's station. "Discharged is unlikely, Ed."
He snorted. "Yeah, I know. Anyway, what's happening? We breaking out? I can climb out the window if you've got rope on you."
"You broke your rib and you're on the fifth floor, Ed."
"Extra long rope?"
Jeslyn shook her head. "I've got a plan, but it involves you staying here a bit longer. Staying here and healing, Ed, and I mean that."
Eddie's good nature dropped faster than Jetstream flying to the moon. "What? Jest... Jeslyn, you're shittin' me, right? This is a prank and you're... you're not leavin' me here, are you?"
"I'm not leaving you, Ed. You broke a rib and you don't have superpowers to heal like that," she said, clicking her fingers. "You need to heal and this is the best place to do it while I get the others out of prison."
"I can help!" Eddie protested, trying to sit up straighter and letting out a sudden wheeze of pain. "I... I can help. Jester, please. Don't leave me here. Please."
"I have to, Eddie. You have to heal, and you can't do that if I get caught."
"I can't do that here or anywhere if you get caught!" Eddie hissed, his heart rate monitor starting to beep incessantly.
"Exactly, so you need to stay here! If you're not here and I'm worrying about you, it'll fuck up a lot of things, Ed. Please, for once in your damned life, just listen to me."
Eddie still looked ready to climb out the window, rope or no rope, and it took far too long for his heart monitor to settle. Jeslyn thanked whatever deity existed that the nurse was distracted by the cop.
"I always listen to you; I'm in this, aren't I?" he pointed out, his blue heart tattoo stark on his forearm.
She sighed. "I know, Ed. You... I have to get the others out and then I'll be right here for you. I promise."
"No, don't promise me that. If you get caught and can't get me out, it's... I'm not worth a broken promise."
Jeslyn clenched her jaw, but knew the Suite Quartet's code just as well as Eddie did. Hell, she knew it better since she'd written the damn thing, and a broken promise was high on the list of shit not to do. "Fine, Ed. But you're worth it and more, you know that. There's just too much I can't control and - "
Eddie held up a hand. "I get it. Now stop stressin' and tell me what the plan is; I want to know everything if I can't be there," he said firmly.
Moving to the chair beside Eddie's bed, Jeslyn settled herself in, ensuring to be angled towards the doorway so she could see if the cop approached.
"First, the Maxville prison is being attacked to distract the Commander and Jetstream."
...
The wall exploded behind Hercules, Layer, and Old Walter, debris crumbling and mortar rising in a cloud of dust. They had no time to react beyond a few initial coughs before a puddle ... slithered over the broken wall towards them. Hercules scrambled back, pressed up against the bars as firmly as possible.
"It's all right, Herc. We've pledged, we'll be all right," Layer promised, lied, hoped, and reached out to grab Hercules' hand.
Despite being cuffed with a power repressing cuff, Hercules' responding grip almost broke Layer's hand.
Old Walter coughed a few more times, and gave a brief nod to the puddle. "Go on, then. I'm ready."
In the next instant, Old Walter was gone, and the puddle had grown larger.
"Super Jesus Christ in a cape!"
"Breathe, Herc. You go next, I'll be right behind you," Layer promised, squeezing his hand despite the creaking of bones.
"I... I can't. Layer - "
Layer saw the look of complete and utter terror on Hercules' face and sighed. "We'll go together then. Yeah?"
Hercules still looked terrified but nodded.
"You can do that, right?" Layer asked, even as both they and Hercules turned to liquid and joined the puddle.
Lash watched from his cell as water inched its way through the prison cells, some people disappearing in an instant and others begging to go too. Some weren't even from the Pen, just regular citizens who wanted to be freed, and Lash glared at one of the bulkier and beefier men who'd tried to intimidate him earlier as the man literally begged like a wuss. For the first time in hours, Lash thought about Speed and wondered briefly if he'd pledged.
He probably had; Speed hated being in prison and didn't listen to Lash like he'd used to when they were at Sky High. Lash totally blamed Old Walter for that, the old wrinkled bastard had been talking to Speed in the library every day, going on bullshit stories about his family and kids and grandkids.
As the puddle went by his own cell, a burble of water caught his attention, and Lash looked over to see ... was that fucking puddle giving him the finger?!
He knew instantly that it was Layer, even though the whole puddle was clear. "You fucking shit! Come back here and say that to my face!"
The puddle ignored him and continued through the prison towards the exit. Through the window, Lash could see guards racing past, then a flare of orange flames and heat he swore he could feel even here.
Fuck, maybe he should have pledged, even just so he could get the fuck out of here, Lash thought with a twist of regret and frustration at even thinking it. He was his own villain and refused to follow anyone else, especially after Gwen... Royal Pain had thrown him under the proverbial and legal bus to help reduce her reincarnation sentences.
One of the guards must have heard the noise from the prisoners or seen the unfamiliar light from the hole in the wall, because right as the puddle reached the door, it slammed open to reveal several guards armed with anti-super riot gear. Most of the prisoners didn't stop the shouting or noise they'd started, and Lash moved back towards the edge of his cell, trying to keep an eye on the door and guards without drawing the guards' attention as one of the few remaining supers in the cells.
Where had the puddle gone?
Guards made their way into the holding cells, but whether it was intentional or the result of another burst of fire behind them, Lash didn't know or care. He'd found the puddle: water somehow defying gravity and was apparently stuck between the door and wall. As Lash watched it, he saw it getting smaller with every passing second. The puddle was moving between the hinges, maybe one person or limb at a time, and all of the prisoners who had pledged were literally escaping right in front of the guards.
There was another twist of regret in his chest, bitterness sharp and sour on his tongue, as the puddle reduced and then disappeared around the corner entirely. Fuck.
...
"The Suite's still in Westville, right?" Eddie asked, Jester nodding.
"Yeah. Jester's over there now, challenging Airborne. Poison's in the area while Fire deals with Maxville."
Eddie frowned. "Who are Fire and Poison? Did we get new members while I was in surgery?"
"No, not exactly. They're... allies."
Eddie slowly put the dots together. "Allies? Y'mean... Jes- Jeslyn, they're supers?" he asked, his voice a whisper and a hiss of disbelief.
"We've dealt with supers before, Ed."
"Not... Hourglass isn't a super-super, and we've - you've - never - "
"I know, Ed. But these two... I swear they hate the Strongholds more than I do. They've got plans, Ed, and I - fuck, not even my plans are like theirs, Eddie."
Eddie sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Fuck me. All right, Jes, I'm in."
"That's it?"
The withering look Eddie gave her had Jeslyn looking away first. "Of course that's it, Jes. Me and Olive have been followin' you since we were in primary school; why'd you think we'd stop now?"
Jeslyn didn't have an answer for her irrational fear, but she felt her shoulders relax at Eddie's response. "All right, Ed, I get it."
"Good. Now, how's the Suite handlin' prison?"
Jeslyn couldn't stop her grin. "The Reds and Greens had to be separated twice due to 'gang related violence.'"
"Lou and Tony?"
"Lou and Tony. I really wish they'd just get over themselves and kiss already," Jeslyn said, rolling her eyes.
The two capos of the Red Diamonds and Green Spades were notorious for going for each other's throats the second they were in the same room, and the sexual tension between them ratcheted up every time. It was a mix of amusement and annoyance for the other two capos of the Blue Hearts and Black Clubs, and Jeslyn only tolerated them because of her guilty pleasure of watching trashy reality shows. Paolo refused to get involved, stating he was too old to be dealing with the romantic affairs of other people.
Jeslyn had already been tempted to lock Tony and Lou in a closet after the next Suite meeting, and she had a brief thought of leaving them both cuffed together in prison to work through their repressed emotions.
Eddie snorted. "With their feud? It'd be a tragedy on par with Romeo and Juliet."
"Tony's nonna allegedly stole Lou's nonna's bolognese recipe; if it's a feud, it's the dumbest reason for a feud, like, ever," Jeslyn said, rolling her eyes.
"It's a feud, Jes; there's no logic behind it for either of them or their families. Lou's nonna has already planned her outfit for Tony's nonna's funeral."
Thinking of her own feud - unknown to the Strongholds, but running strong on her side ever since the Commander had turned her father's face into a crater with a single punch - Jeslyn still privately thought it was a stupid reason for a feud.
Eddie saw the expression on her face and prompted, "What's Jester doing while you're here with me?"
"Well, according to the plan, Jester should be sniping Airborne."
...
Paolo inhaled as he watched Airborne's super flight across the sky. For someone with infamous superhero parents, Airborne clearly hadn't listened to their lessons about how to determine a villain's location based on the trajectory of the bullet. Or in his case, paintball.
With an exhale, Jester took the shot, a green paintball splattering on Airborne's hip as he hovered, desperately trying to find the villain's location. Airborne finally turned in the right direction, and Jester stayed in position, breathing slowly and keeping their body as still as possible. The building's scaffolding fluttered in the wind, then slammed against the metal poles, wooden slats and floors shaking as Airborne flew past.
As soon as Airborne was on the other side of the block, Jester disassembled the paintball gun, tucked it into the open briefcase, slid on a blazer jacket over the vest, and placed a hard hat on. Paolo stepped out of the alcove and calmly walked into the building that was still being repaired from Airborne and Earthstone's last fight.
As he reached the lobby, Paolo wondered if Hourglass would be wrong about his future. Even inside, he could still hear Airborne flying around and calling out for the villain to come out and face him like a man! So long as Paolo blended in with the other people going to and fro from work, Airborne wouldn't even notice him.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he put his hand on the doorknob to open the door. Paolo desperately tried to ignore the fact that his hand was shaking.
"Sir? Excuse me, sir! Sir, you can't go - "
His nerves wrecked despite his efforts to stay calm, Paolo heard the person calling for him, and ran.
Layla wandered the streets of Westville, trying not to feel too frustrated at leaving nearly everyone to have the fun over at the Maxville prison. She knew that she'd be helping everyone break out the Suite Quartet from the Westville prison eventually, but it still wasn't a great feeling to be left out of a major prison break like the one that was surely happening in Maxville right at that moment.
Despite all of the planning with Hourglass, Jester, and Jester's uncle, Layla hadn't been given very clear instructions on where to go or what to do while in Westville. Hourglass had simply said to do what she would normally do and she'd know what to do when the time came. In fact, Hourglass had refused to say anything beyond that vague statement, despite her certainty that Layla had to be in Westville, and it only added to Layla's frustration both then and now.
It didn't help that she could hear Airborne flying overhead, yelling for a villain to face him like a man. His voice was grating, his choice of words were annoying and misogynistic and reeked of toxic masculinity - Layla could only imagine what Jester would have to say about it all - and if this whole thing didn't end soon, Layla would be breaking into the Westville prison with vines and a migraine.
Every time he stopped to hover and call out to the villain, another green splatter of paint hit him, which was Layla's only form of amusement. She struggled to keep her expression neutral each time, but doubted she'd done it very well.
Stopping at the Westville Historical Society's building that was still being restored and rebuilt after it had broken and collapsed on top of Etta, among other citizens who hadn't survived the impact, Layla looked up at the scaffolding and the stained glass window that had only just been replaced.
If Airborne kept flying around at a supersonic speed like this, he'd probably shatter it again, Layla mused.
There was a shout from inside the building, a door slammed open, and someone ran out onto the path and directly into her.
"Ow, shit!" Layla hissed, grabbing the person by their jacket's sleeves, only to realise it was Jester's uncle, Paolo.
Oh, no.
As if on cue, a police officer ran over, probably drawn by the shouts and person on the steps waving frantically. There was an ominous creaking noise above them, and as they all looked up, a wooden board dislodged and fell down from the shaking scaffolding. Diving out of the way, Layla let Paolo go and landed with a soft groan of pain as her body connected with concrete. Her vines took the pain immediately and her super healing removed the bruise in an instant, which might be difficult to explain.
The police officer and person from the building ran over to help her up, the officer talking into his radio about a suspect running down one of the busiest streets in Westville during peak hour. Layla hoped no one would respond or care, and that Paolo would be all right.
"Are you all right, Miss?"
"Sorry about that! He was going through the wrong door and I tried to tell him that, but then he ran off!"
"Who was he?" the police officer asked, frowning.
Further down the street, Paolo knocked into a few pedestrians, causing them to shout out and draw Airborne's attention.
Airborne stopped flying and whipped around as fast as lightning. "Is that you, villain?!" he called out, flying down into the crowd to pluck Paolo out of the mess of limbs.
"P-put me down! I'm just... I'm just going to work!" Paolo cried out, eyes wide.
He damned his traitorous knee and hoped Airborne would believe his lie.
"What happened, Miss? Did you see anything?" the police officer asked Layla.
"Oh. I... It all happened so fast," Layla replied vaguely, her voice shaking and her glance going up to the scaffolding with legitimate concern.
The police officer frowned, then his eyes widened. "Oh. Of course! Of course, you should, uh, come to the station to give your statement. Anything you remember could be extremely useful," he said.
Not seeing a way out of this, Layla nodded.
"Uh, I'll organise another officer to take your statement, sir. It's best if you stay here so you can show them the evidence and go through what happened on site," the officer said.
"Oh. Of course! That makes sense. I'll do that, and, uh, okay, thank you," the man said, frowning in confusion as the police officer led the red headed young woman to his police car through the throng of people without waiting.
"Sorry about the subterfuge, Earthstone. I mean... you don't have any bruises after that fall, and you're a redhead. It's not something everyone knows about Earthstone, so... I'm right, aren't I?" the police officer asked once they were seated and the car's ignition started.
Layla almost glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see Larry nearby, then realised the police officer thought she was Earthstone and was taking her to the police station: directly where she needed to be for the line up with Paolo, and for the prison break of the Suite Quartet. He sounded and looked so eager to be proven right, and Layla couldn't possibly dash his hopes.
"I'd prefer if no one else knew, officer. It's difficult enough to keep a secret identity intact already."
The officer grinned. "No problem, Earth- uh, I mean, Miss," he said, pulling out onto the road and heading to the police station.
...
End of the two hundred and sixth chapter.
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