A/N: ...
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S'up ?
\o/
Bin bin!
Bin bin!
Bin bin!
"Uuuuh… ?"
Inside his bedroom, head lifting slowing from the pillow, one eye still closed, Peter was pulled out of a sound sleep with drawling groan. Turning, the responsible for it could be found towards the right, on top of a small bedside locker. With a set of small plates in each of its hand, the mechanical monkey repeatedly smacked them together, its head waving lightly at each strike.
It was recurring thing he had with Powder. To share trinkets each had built to kill time or otherwise.
But, dammit, he has been regretting getting this alarm from her for a while.
Reaching, he gave a quick pat on its head, making the sound and movements to cease a moment later.
Yawning loudly, Peter shifted, laying now on his back and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. By the morning light in the room, he concluded the day would be a cloudy one. Snow would be pilling up against the windows and on the streets in the upcoming days. Meaning there would be entire morning just pushing it away to make walking possible.
Not exactly his favorite time of the year, but what could he do?
As he was still waking up, Peter kept his focus on the ceiling, while at the same time trying to recall the reason he set up the alarm. Actually, he didn't even remember doing that in the first place. He arrived home exhausted, eat dinner with aunt May and uncle Ben, fighting off sleep, mind you, and then basically passed out when hitting the bed.
Humming, he moved to a sitting position, rubbing the side of his head seeing if it would help. When nothing came back, Peter huffed, throwing the cover aside, deciding to get up to start the day already.
It went as it always did, he brushed his teeth, washed his face, put on his clothes and shoes, and he was ready to go.
Opening the door leading downstairs, Peter heard the sounds coming from the kitchen, and the scent was all it took for his stomach to wake up as well. While eating was surely at the top of his do-list, he thought that perhaps a quick stop at the Last Drop would the next thing for the today. He could even pass by Benzo's store, to see if Ekko had new findings, and exchanges ideas of how they would finally get his project to work.
There was a small hope of Powder joining them in it. He wouldn't bet on it although.
Peter in the process of going down another step when it hit him.
"Oh god!" He whispered in realization, before bolting back to the room in heavy paces that could be heard throughout the entire house.
"Peter ?!" Aunt May called from the below.
"I'm coming down aunt May, just a second!" He exclaimed, picking up a bag, going side to side to fill it with whatever he needed. Stupid! How could he forget ?!
"Are you ok ?" May asked.
"Yeah! I'll be right there soon!"
Making a seconds-longs last check on all he took, Peter swung the bag over his shoulder and rushed down the stairs after closing the door with a loud bang, heading straight to the kitchen. The large windows allowed the outside light to come in fall, covering the kitchen in bright silver. And there he found May setting up the table for their breakfast as she walked around it, putting plates in front each of their three chairs.
Behind her, an iron pot was place over a light fire, boiling water for the tea she and Ben always had in the morning. Strangely, the latter was nowhere to be seen. Usually he would be already seated, or helping May around the kitchen. The smell never ceased to be pleasant, and it tasted even better. There were slices of bread, a pair of bottles of milk, and a few fruits, all right next to it.
There were times that some of those were hard to find. Be it by the lack of it with vendors at points of the year or just the top side taking most for their own.
No one can forget the periods where they would have only three different things to eat for weeks or even months. Or when water could be too unclean to drink. With the only comfort, if it could be called that, as uncle Ben and Vander used to say, being that they had at least had that, and not an empty stomach.
Peter made a point to eat every meal with gusto, never leaving out a thanks for it. If just to make them feel at ease with one thing amongst the countless others they had to worry every day.
"Well, someone woke up excited." May say, casting a quick look at him over her shoulder.
Wincing lightly and rubbing the back of his head. "Yeaah… morning ?"
May shoulders shook with her chuckles. "Good morning." She turned, walking up to him, before crouching to his level. Gently she turned his face to the side, and lifting it just a little. "Hmm, it's probably going to stay like this for a while. But the salve it's working at least."
If Peter was honest to himself, May reacted much better then he thought she would when showing his eye after the boxing incident. There was surprise in the initial moment, which later turned into a unamused stared. Wordlessly, she had taken his hand, dragging Peter upstairs to her room. Right away, May went to the bathroom, pulled a box and took a thin circular can from it. While applying the gel over the area, May stated her only words on the matter.
"And you kids still call that dammed thing a toy."
Granted, Peter later realized, after so many other countless wounds he gained, by himself or with the crew, May grew accustomed, and even awaited for the next one she would have to take care.
Which was kind of depressing when he thought about it.
"That said, go sit, I'll finish everything." She said next, before pausing, as her gaze fell on his shoulder. "You going somewhere ?"
Oh! Right.
"Uhmm." Peter tried to find his words, head swaying.
May instantly narrowed her eyes.
"Peter…" Her voice carried a warning.
"We are doing anything wrong, I swear !" He exclaimed quickly, raising his hands. "It's just that Powder is doing a test today, and I promised to be there for it."
That got his aunt to think for a moment.
"Is that why you have been spending all afternoon away ?" She asked.
"…Basically." Peter admitted with a nod. "So…can I go, please ?"
Silently he awaited with a held breath, anticipating May's response. Her expression was way to still for Peter's liking during that period. And, there was hope it would not be the case, he could already see himself working on an overly long apology for Powder later on the day for missing her big moment.
The wait finally ended when his aunt released a small 'hmm' from her throat, and rose to stand over him. There was a snap of fingers and a single request.
"Backpack." She said to him.
"Uh ?"
"God knows the only thing you two don't forget about is breathing when it comes to your projects. I'm not letting you or Powder go without anything. Backpack." She stated, now snapping her fingers in quick succession to get him to do as she had asked.
Peter, hiding the extreme lengths of his relief, was quick to comply, pulling the pack over his shoulder and giving it to May.
For the next moments, he stood in place, watching as she neatly prepared the meals, putting them in small silver boxes and inside the pack. In a smooth motion, she closed the zippers, returned to the same spot, and put the pack herself on Peter's back.
"Now go before you are late."
With a grateful smile, Peter wrapped his arms around her waist. "Thanks, Aunt May."
She hugged him back as she leaned down, placing a kiss on top of his head. "Anytime Pete. Do be careful out there, ok ?"
"Ok."
Exchanging a few last goodbyes, Peter was off. Not to waste any more time, he got into running pace as soon as he closed the door behind him. Taking the path down the street that would lead towards the planned location he had with Powder, Peter soon found something that was missing until now.
Coming up on the opposite way from him, carrying a medium-sized box in his hands in front of his eyesight, its contents unknown, was Uncle Ben. That explains it. Peter thought in conclusion. Either it was food or some parts that were in need, and Ben went to the markets within the lanes to get them.
Be it whatever it was, that would have to be answered later.
Not breaking his speed, Peter's steps finally caught his uncle's attention, as his head peeked from the side of the box, a frown on his face. Which turned to surprise in a beat.
"Peter ?!" Ben exclaimed as Peter ran past him.
"Morning Uncle Ben! Bye Uncle Ben!" Peter replied over his shoulder, still going hot ahead.
"Boy, where are you going ?!" Ben called after him.
"To Powder! Can't talk now, sorry! See you later!"
"Peter!"
He could hear Ben still trying to reach him, even as his voice got lower with the gap between them getting wider by each new step he took. That sure would gain some form of lecture after he got back. A price he was willing to pay for now.
Ben stared motionless, the weight of the tools inside the box forgotten, as Peter went from a dot in the distance to being completely gone from sight next.
…This kid. He thought after a while, shaking his head with a weary sigh from his lips.
Another thing to pull down the mood of his morning.
After waking up, even before May, he expected to go on a normal day, as normal as it could get on these days. Instead, a strange sound kept coming down from the basement. Of course, he decided to go see what it could be. And what met him was the whole place filled with water that reached almost to his knees.
He thought it could've been one of the pipes bursting. It would not come as a surprise, seeing their state and age. His guess turned out to be untrue, leaving the real cause in the air. Another problem was the lack of equipment to deal with whatever it may be.
Returning from making a quick run to Benzo's shop to take all he would need, Ben aspect to breakfast with his family and ask Peter for some help in fixing the issue much faster.
Now that plan was gone into wherever he was heading. Before he could even truly speak with him.
Honestly, it was his own fault for letting it happen. Ben saw all the signs, and spoke of them, like on many other occasions before. The more than usual visible excitement. Getting home late. Going to bed without delay. Talking to himself out of nowhere. Something was being worked on. And Peter was not going to stay inside doors for long in that state. Even with the warnings given to him and the other children. And there was it.
At the same time, Ben thought afterward, he could not complain. If anything, it was a good activity.
Better that than risking his, or their necks once more up in there.
With a click of his tongue, Ben eyed the box, shoulders drooping at the outcome that waited for him at home. He would appreciate whatever May prepared. Taking as long as he could. It would be a very long day ahead in the basement.
No pain Parker. No pain.
He would go on to repeat it for the rest of the days.
It was…a phenomenon. A sensation hard to grasp. The abstract reaching to find a form.
She attached all the pieces in the right places, blind to the rest of the world, eyes unmoving from her work. A picture of focus and calm. But, on the inside, there was a wave that overwhelmed the mind. A wave of noise and imagery.
The sound of dozens of feet stamping rhythmically. Engines and gears grinding together. Blue sparks explode like stars in the sky. Fire crashing on a shore of glass. Spires inside spires in an endless repeating cycle. Galaxies of particles disperse and reform anew. Sands hovering in the air in uniform formations. The sun down its minor elements. The universe is born and reborn.
All of it haunted Powder every time. In every work she did. She always searched. Navigating the disarray and infinite possibilities. To find do it.
To finally hear the music.
A concept that was born by chance. A late evening in her and VI's room, lying in bed by herself, throwing a bouncy ball in the walls, following its trajectory. With the tunes of an old gramophone going through the space. It was the answer of a doubt she shared with Peter.
How do you feel you're doing it right ? She had asked him.
There was a pause before he gave a response.
Tell the truth, for me, I just go for it. If doesn't work, start again. But that's just me. For you it can be different.
Sure it was.
Since then, she has adopted the method. With focus and attention, Powder would do the work; and take great care in each step. Knowing she was on the right path the clearer she heard it.
Today was not one of those occasions.
She bit her lip in frustration. It was almost done, and all she had was the oppressing sound of a stampede threatening to split her head in two.
Still, she pushed through it. If not for stubbornness, then from a memory.
A conversation on the rooftops. The lanes and Piltover in the night, shining beautifully. Her sister was at her side, standing like the giant Powder always saw her as. A lesson. A promise. A gift.
"Milo is wrong. You are stronger than you think. You are going to do great things." VI had said. "And one day, this city is going to respect us."
Powder turned away from her work momentarily. Taking a moment to observe a stuffed bunny, placed right next to her, on top of an old table. A toy that belonged to VI, one she had hoped to get back for so long. Something that was taken from her. And she did it at the end.
Because she tried, finding triumph.
And Powder would do the same.
Against the sounds and flashes, she pushed forward, completing the assembly of pieces. Finishing by carefully taking one of the crystals from her pocket, letting its blue neon light in her eyes, before placing it inside the machine.
It all ceased after that, fading away. Leaving only her and a field of abandoned junk around. Again, she could not hear it.
Powder sighed, rising to her feet, dusting off her coat, feeling unsatisfied. Disappointed, even with the job being well done on the outside.
Now it was up to luck.
As always. As always…
The thought was a bitter one. It got worse every time. Her fists closed into their selves. The emotions started boiling up, her vision was getting distorted, a new pressure formed in the back of her head. The same she felt after hearing Milo talking her back. Useless repeated over and over.
Powder went to hurl anything she could get her hands on. A snarl close to being freed from behind her lips.
"ARGH!"
She jumped, startled at the scream of pain, and the sound of metal hitting the ground. Turning in time to see Peter walking backward, hands up in defense.
"Freaking rats!" He said loudly to himself, waving off in the direction he came. Sure enough, there was a squeaking, many of them, going around in the junk.
A single laugh made its way out of Powder, and calm steadily returned to her, easing the pressure away. She felt like her normal self by the time Peter had finished cussing out the scare from his system.
"Hey!" He greeted her, excitement in his voice. However, Powder noticed another thing.
"Hey." She said back, masquerading her previous mood. "What happened there ?" She jerked her head towards his back.
"Oh, that ? The rats were walking on top of a pile, dropped a few cans from there. Scared the crap out of me." He said while getting closer to stand before Powder.
"They are always doing that." With the proximity, that's when she became certain of it. "Say…..Did you run all the way here ?"
Peter froze for a second, before opening his mouth, looking left and right. "Uuh…why you asking?"
Powder fell into an unamused expression. Reaching over to his face.
"What are yo-" She passed her fingers over his brow. Showing then up front after. Peter could not find an excuse for the thin amount of moistness in them. "Ok, fine." He admitted. "Kind of overslept and had to leave quickly."
Powder nodded in understanding, glad he kept his promise. Only wishing she could be more confident in her work.
Speaking of it.
"It looks pretty cool." Peter praised, going around her and circling the device.
It resembled two spinning wheels merged, with an open compartment at the middle, where the crystal currently stood, on top of a circular section where it would distribute the energy. The drawings Pete did to remember the ones in the apartment came in hand for the design. There was a set of thin long cables connected to it. They formed a transfer bridge between the device and something they found to use as a test.
Piltover saw the under city as dump, and treated it like one. But oftentimes, some goods came from that mentality.
On the ground, it's gold color stripped in parts over time and weather, and with many little pink sketches over them, was a robot with wheels for legs. The body was round like a cylinder. A set of two small arms. In addition, a single opening in the middle for an eye. Powder had found it months ago while dumpster diving with Peter, and made all the repairs herself, outside and inside. From new parts to painting. If what they say was true, those were used as companions for children, carriers of loads, or even butlers for the most rich in the city.
Now they could have one all to their selves.
That was the hope.
"Still can't believe they would get rid of this." Peter reflected, shaking his head, giving to robot a once over.
"It's not even the worst they did." Powder pointed out. Countless times, she was left in disbelief at what the people up there found disposable. It was almost a crime.
"True, true." Peter concurred, before asking her. "So, got everything ready ?"
As ready as I managed to make it. That was what she wanted to tell him. Instead, she stated. "Almost." Walking over to the side, Powder gestured for him to wait a moment. Opening the bag Uncle Ben gifted her, right next to a small case of tools and spares, she pulled out a set of lab glasses, handing one to Peter, while putting hers on. "Just in case."
With Peter momentarily occupied, she examined the setup. Seeing if anything was out of place. Also to buy a few more seconds, as her anxiety was growing.
"There." Peter said, giving the glasses a light shake and two thumbs up.
Moment of truth.
Powder exhaled. Okay,okay,okay. Her hand hovered over the button, twitching. She jammed her eyes closed. Remaining undecided. The moments went by.
"Powder ?" Peter's voice came over her ears. But it was tangled. Mashed together with Vi's.
You are going to do great things.
Great things.
Powder pressed it.
She opened her eyes, the mechanism coming to life with a humm, spinning in the color blue. Sparkles of electricity bolted from it. The cables light up as well, guiding the crystal's energy towards the robot.
With a look of disbelief, Powder slouched slightly forward, with a smile from ear to ear.
"It's working!" Peter exclaimed-whispered, voicing out her present thoughts with the same enthusiasm. It would have continued, until she remembered.
Happy as the situation was, both had already planned the safety measures. The many incidents taught them well to not take any chances.
Powder turned around, stating. "To the back, go!"
Together they ran, jumping over a barrier of scrap put together. It was big enough to cover their bodies, and still give them a clear field vision over it.
All their attention remained locked in the progress. Peter tapping a finger constantly. Powder murmuring to herself, almost like a prayer.
Breaths caught in their throats when it happened.
An arm twitch. A blink in the eye. A slight wheel turn.
A jolt of life.
With the strongest wave of energy yet, the robot sprung up. Its inner mechanism operating a such a capacity it could be heard from the outside.
Not holding the excitement, Peter and Powder jumped from their cover. The former had his arms raised, jaw dropped. The latter with her hands covering her mouth. Their eyes met, and not a moment later she grasped the sides of Peter's jacket, shaking it like there was no tomorrow. The same wrapped his arms around her, doing the same.
"It worked, it worked, it worked!" They kept repeating in joy. No words could describe what they were felling.
The robot was in the process of getting its bearings. It's eye turned and shifted behind the glass visor. The joints in its thins arms circling, as if testing old movements again. The fingers flexing and rotating.
Even with this, it was still unbelievable to think it was back in action. That they managed to fix it completely.
Oh, Powder couldn't wait to see everyone's faces, especially Milo's, when delivering the news.
As their new robot continued waking up, they noticed something. With frowns forming, both watched as it started to slow-down rapidly. Its lights flicked in and out.
Until it ceased moving, shutting down on the spot.
The kid's face's morphed into confusion. Speechless, trying to understand what was happening.
Until a new hum got their attention.
All they needed was just a glimpse, before both ducked behind cover again.
The machine holding the crystal became a dome of blue bolts, shaking it violently as the energy grew out of control.
Then it was released.
Peter and Powder crouched even further. Seeing and feeling the wave passing through them. Hearing a large electric discharge following behind. They were pushed into their backs hard with it.
They didn't dare to get up for a while. But when nothing else occurred, and they were certain that the two still drew breath, it was time.
Slowly, they peeked over the cover.
Finding the machine burnt to a crisp.
And the crystal right under them.
"That…..Could have been worse."
"…"
"Shutting up. Shutting up…"
The grey sky, along with the fog near the water at the Lane's south piers were a perfect match for their current mood. A mile away from junkyard, both sat, legs dangling just above the river, munching away the food May had prepared for them.
Peter stared aimlessly ahead, apple in hand, putting an end in his attempt to start a conversation as a distraction for the experiment's failure. Or trying to find anything to make things feel better. Disappointed in himself for it. However, it was a rash truth, unfortunately.
After the discharge, they tried to inspect the machine. It was complicated to say the least. The stench of burned metallic overwhelmed their noses. And it was still too hot to touch. In time, and with a previous experience in that sort of situation, they came to understand what had happened. It was a matter of quality. Material quality.
For all the yard had to offer them, none of it could compete against brand new goods. It actually withstood more than it should. But the machine was bound to overheat against such constant energy. More so from such an unknown source.
The crystal was put back into the bag carefully. It was a strike of luck that it remained intact against the meltdown. After that, Powder didn't even bother to spare it any more of her time.
She was the worst of the two.
Her gaze was downcast, almost numb, holding on to the bunny. And even as she ate a simple sandwich, it was with the enthusiasm of a corpse. Struggling to swallow like it was a still-beating heart. Every once in a while, her chest would expand with a deep breath. But, the redness spreading in her glistened eyes was the most clear demonstration of her emotions.
It was like drowning, reaching for the surface. A hand offered to pull you up. Only in the last moment for it to go away.
This was one of her biggest chances to show her worth. To make VI's confidence in her something of true value.
All to fail with flying colors.
Again.
Frustrating and disheartening were good ways to put it.
She sniffed quietly, blinking fast to push away the burning feeling, wondering if it was even worth getting angry over it.
Taking another bite from her food, she turned her gaze upwards, tired of seeing her own reflection below.
Birds flew about. The grey sky turned as it always did. And the world kept going.
How she wished things were this simple on the ground.
"Coo, coo."
A rapid flap of wings came from behind. Powder and Peter looked over their shoulders. Picking at the ground with its beak, was a white pigeon. It's head moved in quick snaps, searching for any crumbs of food there could be lying around. Bobbing when it took a few steps in any direction to find more. It was in one of those strides, that the kids a small red wrapped around its left leg.
"Pidgey!" Peter realized. And the bird turned to him when hearing its name. "Hey, little guy. What you doing here ?" He put a hand forward, gesturing for it to come closer. It did so, cooing once more, head tilting left and right while examining Peter's palm.
"Oh…" The same pressed his lips when understanding. "Do birds eat apples ?" He gave the fruit a quick glance, before turning to Powder.
Not that she was expert, what she had in hand surely would be more of the pigeon's liking.
"Here." Taking a piece from the bread, she dropped it on the floor.
Pidgey instantly went for the offering. The kids sat, watching as the piece jumped all over the place at each bite from him. Mouths twitching into small grins.
It was a welcoming change of atmosphere. One also desperately needed at that point.
Yet, they wondered. Pidgey was never really alone. If he was there now, then it meant.
Three heads snapped at attention, when, like notes from a song, the sound of a whistle came from the distance. Along a continuous metal rattle.
Soon enough, the origin stepped into view. Brown skin, in his mid-thirty's, full beard, wearing old beat-up clothes, a trench coat over them, fingerless cloves, and hair covered by a green-colored beanie. Holding a wheeled supply cart, with a fence around it, at his front.
He kept on whistling to the sky, until he looked at the docks and spotting them after.
"Hey, kids!" He raised an arm, waving at them.
Peter and Powder waved back. "Hi, Howard!"
He proceeded, with some clear and visible difficulty to push the cart forward, to travel all the way down to join them.
"See you found the little runaway, didn't ya?" He referred about Pidgey, who was still biting away on the bread.
"He found us, actually." Peter replied.
Howard chuckled. "That's him alright." Clapping his hands, the pigeon's head snapped, and he immediately flew off the ground, into Howard's shoulder. The man gave him a few rubs on the head. "Don't be fooled though. This one already had his fill today. Anything else is greed."
Pidgey cooed, as if protesting the statement. Howard just huffed in reply.
"So, what got you two here so early ?" He addressed the kids then, curious.
Peter and Powder did not answer right away, exchanging a look. Not too keen on explaining the accident to him.
A cold breeze passing through gave the former an idea.
"Winter is coming." He put it to Howard. "So we are just…enjoying the outside while we still can."
It did the trick. Howard nodded in understanding, eyes panning across the sky. "Good plan." He said. "Kind of doing the same on my end too." Pulling the cart closer, the kids got to see what was inside. Like they are used to, Howard took part in some dumpster diving.
"What's this all for ?" Peter asked him.
"That ? Oh, You see, I can find ways to keep myself warm easily enough. But him ?" Howard reached with an open hand at his shoulder. Pidgey walked over it, being taken to the front. "He and his brothers need someone to help them when it's freezing outside." He paused for a moment as the pigeon flapped it's wings. Eyes filled. Care, love, sadness, longing.
Peter and Powder knew that look well. It was hard to find anyone in the Lanes that didn't had it. They also knew it was not their place to talk about it, unless said people would do it themselves.
Blinking away from the state, Howard smiled, gently putting Pidgey on top of the cart.
"That's why I wanted to take a look around here today." He explained, putting his hands on the coat's pockets. "Hopefully would find something to get the job done."
Not helping himself, Peter blurted out. "And you need it for what exactly ?"
Howard gave him a basic idea of the little system used to keep the pigeons warm during the seasons. Even why he had to make alterations. Or at least do his best to try to change it. More and more of them joined the flock. The heater he had could only do so much. Time was slowly taking it's toll on it, and the size wasn't suited for the number of rooms.
By the end of it, the kids had a very familiar expression of thought.
Having a realization, Peter exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "There's something that can help!"
"Hm ?" Howard tilted his head.
"Ok…I saw it back in the yard. If it still works, you wouldn't have to do much against the cold."
The interest in the man's eyes was instantaneous.
"Well, I will be dammed. I'll take it Pete."
Peter was about to get going, to show him the piece's whereabouts. Until a hiss escaped from him, and he clutched his arm.
"Woah, you ok ?" Powder was taken aback. Worried nonetheless by the action.
Howard nodded in affirmation. It was not very convincing.
"Yeah, it's just…The cold not being a friend of mine." He said lowly, putting some pressure to get rid of the discomfort.
Breaking the established rule, Peter had to say it.
"Is it your support ?" He hoped it would not offend.
"No…I mean, it's having some problems. But it ain't doing this." Howard replied, not going around the subject.
That explained why he seemed troubled with pushing his cart. Even not knowing the details, both kids had a notion of the accident he went through. Vander once let it escape it was a miracle they managed to put his arm back together after it.
"We can take a look at it." Peter offered easily. At least there was a chance to help on one thing.
Howard waved off the suggestion. "You kids don't need to worry about. I'll deal with it."
Yeah, right.
As if he hadn't heard a thing, and with a second idea already in mind, Peter stated. "Alright, I'm heading to get it. Be back soon."
Howard frowned. "Pete, I just said –"
"You stay while Powder takes a look at your support." Peter pointed at her to emphasize.
The same froze upon hearing those words.
"What ?!" She asked, wide eyed, brows nearly raised to her hair, head snapping to stare at him. When did she agree to this ?!
Peter had to be pulling a prank on her and Howard. A very unamusing one. The melted pile should be proof enough.
Again, he pretended to be deaf.
"Don't worry Howard." Peter placed a arm around her shoulders. "I couldn't find a better person for it. Trust me."
Powder wanted to push him off, and protest against the idea. However, stopped herself when he turned. Looking at her with nothing but full sincerity. Squeezing her shoulder gently.
Next thing she and Howard knew, he was already gone, already back at the yard probably. And they were left there, with not words.
Until the latter shook his head. "That kid…He's something else, right ?"
Powder could only huff as a form of agreement.
There was another moment of silence between them. Feeling he would not hear the end of it, Howard turned to Powder. "Then, how about we get this over with ?"
Biting her lower lip, for a moment, uncertainty weighed heavy on Powder's mind. Yet, now in the spotlight, backing out, and refusing to help when given the chance would make her feel way worse later.
She straightened her back, relaxing her shoulders with a shake. "Let's go."
For the next half hour, they sat comfortably, facing each other, the old wooden table between them. Howard had his right arm forward, over. Using the cart as a rest for the left, watching silently as Powder worked. Pidgey curled up, back on his shoulder.
It did not take her long to find the issue, especially following Howard's description of the problems. The pad, bark linkage, the straps, all were in good condition. It all came down to the screw locking the pantograph point. Somehow, it had gotten partially stuck, preventing much of the support's movements.
Putting it back in place would call for the same problem to happen again. It had to go.
With a small hammer, Powder hit against it several times, before it finally pooped off into the floor.
From there, it was a matter of replacing it. Which, thankfully, there were many with her.
"Ok. I think this is it." She gave it a good look, instructing Howard after. "Move your arm a little."
He did so, slowly lifting and lowering his forearm a few times. A small amount of pain remained, but there were no more delays or stops in the movements.
"Haha." Howard laughed with a pleased expression. "Alright. Feels good as new." He said, giving her a nod of gratitude. "Own you one, little blue."
While happy for the praise, Powder couldn't fully embrace it at that moment. Settling with a small grin, and reciprocating the gesture. As she put the tools back in place, she failed to notice Howard's head tilting with uncertainty. Her downcast mood was more evident than it appeared.
"Hey…Why the sad face ?"
"I'm not sad." Powder tried playing cool, avoiding his gaze, pretending to continue organizing the tools.
She found out that was not fooling anyone.
"Now. Don't go lying to me." Howard stated, voice remaining calm and kind. "If something is bothering ya, I'm all ears." He made his own proposition. "Won't even consider it as us being even."
"But I –" She stopped.
With his brows raised, the expression on Howard's face spoke clearly. Cut it off.
The mask fell.
Stopping the tricking movements, Powder didn't offer a reply as the minutes dragged on. She closed her eyes with a tired breath. Finally relenting. But in her own way.
"Is just….It's nothing special." She said to him.
Howard could not help but pause. Confused. Not expecting that specific proclamation.
"Special ?" He leaned forward, folding his hands.
"This." Powder wobbled the tool sack, pointing with her other hand at his arm. "Really, anyone could've fix it. It is simple. Now give me something bigger and harder to do ? All falls apart at one point. It's always like that." She shook her head. "Why do I even bother trying to do more?"
Howard turned his gaze down, taking some time to come up with the best reply for the admission. He already had a good start in one particular part. While the other was more delicate, perhaps there was a universal sentiment between them right now. He did not noticed that look in her by lack of experience. And he hoped it would just stay in that amount. Never on the level he had gone through at one point of his life.
"You right. Anyone out there could have fixed it. Even me, if I had the time to learn. But, let me tell you something. It wasn't anyone that helped me, was it? No, no, it was you. Besides, I can't name many people doing what you at your age." It was small, yet the small head turn showed him that Powder was listening. "Take a piece of advice from a guy who's been around for a while. In this world, no matter where, up there or down here, is easy to let things go. Accept all thrown at you without questioning. Giving up at first sign of struggle.
"Doing something, no matter how big or small it may be, to yourself or for others, is what keeps us going forward. If it works, be proud of it. And, if things don't go our way…we have to get up to try again. Or, to find a new goal. It's the best we can do with our lives."
Powder didn't outright show any visible reaction. But the subtle sliding of her head was enough for Howard to see she at least listened. What she would do with it ? That was up to her now.
The silence between them endured for a short while. Just as both wondered what was taking Peter so long, they heard approaching steps. He came into view right after. Carrying with him in hand an object that resembled an old oil lantern. Covered in a cage-like layer, holding what seemed to be a strange light bulb inside. Walking up to their table a short jog, he placed it carefully in front of Howard.
"Found it." He said proudly. "All yours."
Howard reached for it, turning it all over in his hands. "Is this…?"
"A heater." Peter confirmed his initial suspension and answered an unsaid question before it could be voiced. "It works, by the way. I made sure of it." He raised his hands. Both were dirty, and covered with dark spots.
That answered why he was gone for so long. And his guarantee on the device sure seems like it was a tiring procedure. As he sat on the ground, not bothering with a chair or anything for himself. Letting a groan while stretching.
"So." He looked back and forth at Howard and Powder. "How did it go ?"
"It went well." Powder took them by surprise by answering first. Voice with a hint of pride. Ten times more alive than she was before. "It went really well."
The older man fought against a satisfied smile. And the youngest mentally patted himself on the back.
A few hours later.
He meditated, chest barely rising with elaborate breaths, muscles tight. On the rooftops, feeling everything that surrounded him. The neon lights slipped through the spaces between buildings. Giving him a half-shadowed visage, complementing his skin-tight black shirt, sweatpants, boots, and gloves. Blending almost fully in the darkness.
A habit taken over the years of training. Drilled into his head repeatedly by his old teacher. Before, the sensations would be overwhelming. Painfully so. In time, he learned it was useless to fight against it. A lost battle. The choice, like one would do in the ocean, was to learn to follow. To let them be a guide in the chaos. To use in his favor.
Now, to a certain point, he knew the lanes and some of its forgotten corners like no one else. From the usual drunkards. To the rats searching for their next meal. With time and practice, he was sure the limits could be pushed, allowing more awareness than he had.
For the moment though, it was enough.
There was an order in his city. His people living, surviving, in peace.
Moreover, should it be disrupted, those responsible for such would not escape him for long.
Today, for now, there were still no signs of one of those. Good.
He expanded the range of hearing.
There was a sudden tilt of his head, and, in an amusing timing, he ended up finding them. Entering his territory. Steps echoing against the ground loudly.
Three, five…No….Ten.
Ten of them.
Curious, he rose, focusing solely on their location. The all-too-familiar sound of mechanical breathing invaded his ears. Jaw clenching, he took a few steps forward.
Why are they back so soon?
He was pulled out from his wonderings when they started talking.
"Eugh…I knew this place reeked. But this is ridiculous." One of them said, a heave in his voice.
"It's a dump. But you get used to it." One with a deeper voice replied. "The maggots in here found a way."
"The hell I will." The first swallowed whatever was coming up on his throat. "And they can keep this shit for themselves."
"Focus more on what we came here to do. And the sooner we will leave." Another, with an accent he couldn't recognize stated, cutting their conversation. There was a pause. Mild movements. Then the new voice spoke again. This time a whisper. "Sir, a word ?"
Sir ? So it was an organized group.
He listened on.
"What's wrong ?" The leader asked.
That voice…His knuckles almost turned white. He should have known. That enforcer was the pain in the ass they expected him to be.
"…Look, I don't want to speak above my grade. But, are you sure about this ? The second the Sherriff finds out what we are doing, or did…it won't end well for any of us. Especially for you." The accented one said, worry clear.
Uh, an unofficial operation, on the lanes. This was getting better and better.
"If we do everything right, she will know none of what happened here. And if she does…well, we will be the ones that did their duties. The council will have no reason to punish any of us. Don't worry too much about it."
There was a click of a tongue. "Alright, I'll trust you that." A gloved hand patted against leather.
Next, the leader, Marcus, if he recalled correctly, addressed all the enforcers.
"Listen up!" He said. "All of you got your parts in the mission. Keep yours open to anything, and never be alone for long. This place won't be kind to any of you. So if you want to use force against some….uncooperative citizens, use it at will. Hoffman, Blake, you two take the men and start the search. Leave no one unchecked"
"And what about you, sir ?" He could not tell which one of them replied.
"I'm going to take a look at the last drop…And pay the big bad wolf a visit. Russo, you and Simpson with me."
He felt a shiver go down his spine when hearing heavy and small weapons being loaded. Their safety locks shifting. But Marcus's next words almost made the devil be let out. He now understood then the reason of their presence. What they were searching for. Whom they wanted.
"Remember those five brats in cuffs by the end of the day. Move out!"
Lips curling in furious anger, he reached up, pulling the black bandana down to the top of his face.
They could try.
A/N: OOOWEEEE!
I made it dammit!.
Tell you guys what, this was supposed to be a WAY bigger chapter. But I promised to deliver it before January was over. And I may be busy in the following weeks to fully dedicate myself. The good thing is that it had a nice cliffhanger for what is to come.
It may not be the most exciting thing ever, but I felt it was necessary to take some time withe the Parkers. And to have a deeper look at Powder especially.
Like I said to Mrsauce906, Oppenheimer was a blessing for me. The way both he and Powder/jinx have this sort of similar relationship with what they did and the consequences that came with it was a path being open to writing that section.
And also, Howard, how can you not love the guy ?
Anyway, Hope you guys enjoyed it.
See ya when I see ya.
Peace.