AU: So you want to be a hero?

[Marnie Sullivan]

The facade of the home Marnie had just pulled up to was nowhere near as large or impressive as that of the institute she'd graduated from that past spring, but her first look at it had a similar intimidating effect. The difference, she told herself, was that she wanted to be here. Everything was scary when you were thirteen and your world had been turned upside down because you'd suddenly turned a vibrant shade of green. But she was technically an adult now, and she'd chosen to apply to this program herself, so there was really no reason for her to be so nervous!

I still have a few minutes, Marnie assured herself while she chewed her lips and eyed the house's front door apprehensively. One leg was bouncing up and down and knocking against the steering wheel. For the hundredth time, she opened the manila folder she'd been given at the agency and reviewed it, although by now she about had its contents memorized. Dr. Sean Patrick Neville. Alter Ego: Sage. Power: Telepathy...

When she could stall no longer, Marnie took a deep breath and climbed out of her little old sedan. Hardly a fitting vehicle for a superhero-in-training, but that wasn't important right now. One foot in front of the other, all the way up the concrete path to the front door and she was ringing the doorbell, which clanged like her heart against her ribcage. She was here, this was happening, this was really happening!

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean Neville had been the superhero Sage for the vast majority of his life. Well-reknowned and well-respected, he had been the sidekick for one of the greatest superheroes of the Golden Age, his mentor and friend, Robert Hopkins, also known as Oracle. Eventually, he had gone solo, although the two fo them had continued to do work together until Oracle had hung up his cape.

During his long, illustrious career, Sean had testified before Congress in both his capacity as a superhero as well as his capacity as a psychiatrist, which he had pursued after graduation from the Hammel Institute, for meta-human youth. He had testified before the United Nations on a variety of topics. He had prevented numerous attempted world takeovers, had fought for social justice at every level of society, had personally saved countless people in New York City and elsewhere. Some of his exploits were taught at Hammel. He had numerous dedications throughout New York and Washington D.C., as well as no fewer than three schools named after him across the East Coast.

One would think that would have been enough to earn him a sidekick when he had first requested one, decades ago. Instead, his application had been set aside, waiting for someone truly deserving of the match, someone with great potential who would have similar powers that he could train. Someone he could aid as Robert had aided him.

If that person had ever appeared, the Powers that Be had never sent them to Sean. Instead, he had gone without a sidekick for years. Eventually, his request had been forgotten, and he had turned to other pursuits. He continued his superheroics, but he also focused on his private medical practice and his home in the suburbs.

And his family.

The doorbell sent his daughter scampering towards the foyer, with the telepath on her heels. Fortunately, he had a long stride while she had tiny, little legs.

“Gotcha!” He said, grabbing her from behind and lifting her into his arms. With one hand, he opened the door, finding himself face-to-face with a young woman, whom he did not recognize. “Hello,” he greeted. Not having expected company, he wore sweatpants and a sweatshirt under his bathrobe. Surely, she was too old for the Girl Scouts. “May I help you?”

[Marnie Sullivan]

Hi, I'm Marnie Sullivan - 

Hello, I'm Marnie, I'm your new intern - 

Nice to meet you, I'm so excited to start -

Every single greeting Marnie had practiced in the bathroom mirror that morning fell right out her ear as she blinked up at the face that, while admittedly not as youthful as the headshot paperclipped in her file, was still completely recognizable. She'd seen that same face in the news, in textbooks, even on a poster in her eleventh grade history class. It was really him, she was really standing on Sage's doorstep!

The baby was a little unexpected, though. Good grief, how out of date was her file anyway?

"I. I. Um," she stammered. Wait a minute, how long had she been just standing there?

Say something, stupid! ...Oh for god's sake he can read minds! 

"Right! Hi! Um, I'm Intern, I'm your new Marnie, nice to meet - I-I mean - " Thank god she had learned to stop letting her emotions trigger her camouflage in training, because Marnie was rapidly turning a bright shade of pink. In an attempt to salvage the situation, she quickly stuck out a hand, arm stiff, to be shaken. "I'm Marnie Sullivan, your new intern!"

Super. Well done, she scolded herself, too embarrassed to even note that Dr. Neville appeared to still be in pajamas and that he apparently hadn't expected her. 

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean overheard her entire mental litany, learning far more from that and from her blushing and the fact that she babbled than from any content of her babbling itself. One of the many utilities of telepathy.

An intern.

The Powers That Be had finally approved his request for a sidekick some decades after he placed the request in the first place.

The Powers That Be had approved his request for a sidekick after he had essentially gone part-time for family obligations.

Of course they had. The telepath followed the directives of their Code, but he recognized as well as anyone else that bureaucracy created as many problems as it solved.

That she was his sidekick certain explained the babbling. He had been equally awestruck when meeting Robert for the first time.

Keeping one arm around his daughter, he reached out with his free hand to take Marnie’s for a firm handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Marnie. I’m Sean Neville.” She already knew that, he realized, but formal introductions had their rules.

With that, and unsure how he would begin to accommodate a sidekick at this point in time, he stepped to the side to allow her into the house. Both because she had come with expectations as well as because he didn’t like to stand with his daughter in the doorway, lest she struggle free of his grip and run out into traffic. “Please, come in. You can tell me about yourself, and whether you prefer coffee or tea.”

[Marnie Sullivan]

"Y-yes sir!" Oh man, oh man, she actually got to go into his house, which shouldn't have been a surprise at all since she'd been instructed to go there in the first place but still, oh just wait until she could tell her parents about this - okay, so they hadn't had his influence drummed into them during high school but they still knew who he was - except how much would she be allowed to tell them? It would probably be a while before she got to go on a secret mission with Sage but maybe she would get to shadow him during spy work or something? Maybe that's why she'd been assigned to be his intern, because they thought having camouflage would come in handy in that line of work - 

But she was getting ahead of herself. Before they could hunt bad guys, she needed to step inside first.

"I'm a coffee person, if, if it's not too much trouble," Marnie answered, as she shut the door behind her. Inside, she managed to tear her eyes away from the hero and gaze around, taking in her surroundings. It was much more ...homey than she'd expected. But then she'd sort of expected a crime-fighting lab, which didn't make a whole lot of sense now that she thought about it. Reel it in, Marn.

"Well, um, I'm Marnie," she repeated uselessly, "and I just graduated from Hammel in, in the spring. I thought I'd apply for the internship program and, um, here I am!"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The house was gorgeously appointed, if Sean allowed himself to set aside the virtue of modesty for a moment. He had decorated it himself, and it fit with the impression one might have of a well-off psychiatrist living in the suburbs: five bedrooms, five bathrooms, a separate breakfast nook in addition to the kitchen and the formal dining room, a large covered porch where he did a bit of gardening in the good weather. The playroom for his daughter. The attic contained spare items.

The basement from which he operated all of his superheroics.

With Marnie inside, Sean shut the door and then led her towards the kitchen. “It’s nice to meet you,” he repeated, quite patient with the fangirling. He had met his fair share over the years. “This is Eleanor. She’s waiting on her nap.”

His daughter was far too excited to sleep, but she had about a half hour until her naptime as it was.

Once in the kitchen, he set his daughter down in her chair so that he could put on a fresh pot of coffee. “Cream and sugar?” He kept both, because he preferred sweet, diluted coffee to unadulterated, for which his partner teased him mercilessly. “A superhero who can’t stand bitter coffee?” Josh would say.

“I assume Hammel still teaches about the Battle of 1978?” He and Robert had been paired together for a little under three years at that point, and it had been the incident that had put him on global radar, as opposed to national acclaim, which he had won nearly two years before as a wet-behind the ears sidekick to Oracle.

[Marnie Sullivan]

Trailing along behind Sean, at first, simply involved craning her neck every which way to gawk at everything - did all heroes have homes this impressive? - until he introduced Eleanor, and she realized the little one was peering over his shoulder at her with round, blue eyes. Marnie had never been that great with little tiny newborns, but Eleanor seemed to be that just-right age where babies were still small and adorable but also more expressive. Immediately she raised a hand to give the baby a tiny wave and, with a peek to make sure Sean wasn't watching, crossed her eyes and sucked her cheeks in to turn her mouth into fish lips. When she heard Eleanor giggle she uncrossed her eyes and grinned; sure, she hadn't expected any babies when she'd signed up for the program, but this one, she could get used to.

"Just sugar, thanks," Marnie replied, once they were in the kitchen and Eleanor was settled. To be honest, she tended to prefer her coffee both sweetened and flavored, but for the last several months she'd been trying to acclimate to regular, black coffee, which she figured was more befitting an adult and hero-in-training. It was slow going.

"Oh, every year," she answered, nodding enthusiastically. Not only did everyone who passed through Hammel's halls know of the Battle of '78, at least a quarter of its students selected it for their junior-year history presentation. "My sophomore year we actually had a sub around that point in the syllabus and he showed the movie, but personally I think it was a little too Hollywood, I mean, I know Brad Pitt is good-looking but I just don't think he was convincing enough, plus that romance subplot was just distracting from the real story, you know?" Which was exactly what she'd written on the worksheet that substitute had required all the students to fill out to pretend they'd done any work that day, but which Marnie also realized was maybe not the correct thing to say to the subject of the film himself.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean wouldn’t mention the coffee matter unless it came up again, but he didn’t think anyone needed to acclimate themselves to black coffee. Far too bitter and not as enjoyable as sweetened coffee; they were not in the middle of a war shortage or trade embargo, so why deny themselves?

The telepath chuckled warmly, shaking his head to himself. “On my best day, I couldn’t look like Brad Pitt on his worst.” He had a sense of humor about it, coupled with a sense of modesty. He considered himself average – on the nicer side of average, but average in appearance nonetheless – and he remained acutely aware of his aging. “But I was flattered by the casting choice.”

With the coffee finished, he poured her a mug and brought that over to her, along with the sugar bowl which contained cubes rather than powder. He had always been fond of sugar cubes; they harkened back to another time and place.

He sat down at the table, adjacent to Eleanor where he could reach her in her chair, and where she could still see his face from that angle. However, he faced Marnie so that they could converse. “I can tell you the full story sometime, if you’d like. Although I wouldn’t want to bore you with war stories.” He smiled, a touch of self-deprecation. Then he asked, “Do you live in the City?”

[Marnie Sullivan]

Marnie only nodded in response to his assessment of the film's casting, not wanting to put her foot in her mouth any more than she had to. She accepted the offered mug of coffee and added a couple of sugar cubes, grateful to have something to hold onto with both hands instead of wringing them in her lap.

"Are you kidding? That's not boring at all!" she exclaimed, already more wired than necessary without the coffee. Even if she knew absolutely everything there was to know about it, that wouldn't compare to hearing the story of the battle from the source himself. No movie could compare with that.

"Mm-hm. I live up in Woodlawn, actually." Which meant that much of the time, Marnie was used to getting around on public transportation. The little sedan she'd driven here belonged to her mother; on a day like today, she hadn't wanted to risk missing a connection and being late.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean smiled politely. He supposed it wouldn’t be boring, since she was young and had never heard about it first-hand. Part of living life as a superhero, and one as famous was him, was the fact that he had lived through all of this, and he had been asked about it hundreds if not thousands of times over the past nearly four decades. It all ran together. However, if she wouldn’t be bored, then he could accommodate her. “Then I’m sure we can find the time.”

The telepath nodded. “Woodlawn is a nice area.” In general, the Bronx received the worst services of all five boroughs, which he (and everyone else) attributed to the high concentration of people of color and low-income people who lived in that borough. Coupled with the fact that all four outer boroughs received worse consideration than Manhattan itself, and he considered that one of the shames of the City. He worked on lobbying, although he had less time for that with parenting at present. However, there remained some parts that retained their charm from before the highway had split the Bronx in two.

Sometimes, he thought that he had lived in New York for far too long.

He appreciated her enthusiasm, and he could sense her sincerity. Because of that, he owed her honesty. As such, he waited until she had tried her coffee and then said, “I should apologize, because nobody told me that I was to receive an intern, and so this might not be the most interesting assignment.”

[Marnie Sullivan]

Marnie paused between sips, brow furrowing in confusion. Nobody had told him she was coming? Had there been a mistake? Well, obviously there'd been a mistake, but she was still supposed to be there, wasn't she? Her stomach lurched uncomfortably - what if this whole thing was one giant misunderstanding and she wouldn't actually get to work with Sage after all? It was like someone had flown her to Orlando and then ripped up her ticket outside the gate to Disney World, except worse, because millions of people went to Disney World every year but nobody else got to be the sidekick of one of the foremost heroes of the twentieth century!

"But... But I still get to work with you, right?" Marnie asked, doubt tinging her voice for the first time since she'd arrived. "I don't care if, if we're not foiling heists or preventing assassinations or whatever right away, it'll be interesting, I'm interested! Very interested!"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean could not turn her away.

Ethics forbade doing so. Unlike his assignment as her mentor, which could occur at any time during a superhero’s illustrious career, the change to sidekick occurred during a relatively slim period. If she grew too old, grew into a “real adult” rather than merely a legal one, she would lose the opportunity forever. That could have an effect on her career. While not every superhero sidekicked before putting out their shingle, it certainly helped in terms of developing one’s personal style, learning the ropes, and staying alive and healthy. For that reason alone, he could not turn her away.

What if she found nobody else? What if they failed to reassign her? She would already have the gap in time and it would be a mess of complications.

Beyond that, he recognized himself in her. He could imagine the stress and disappointment that would have overtaken him, had Robert turned him away. He could easily imagine how different his life course would have taken if that had occurred.

No, he could not, and would not, turn her away.

He lifted one hand to interrupt her, not wanting her to experience further stress or to babble on too much. “You can still work with me. I know how important this is.” Beyond all of the other factors, he knew his own reputation, and he would not deny her that experience as well. “But I want you to be aware. My partner and I split time with our daughter, and I have the morning shift. I don’t do as much running around as I used to, and so I don’t want you to be surprised or disappointed. I believe in laying everything on the table up front.”

[Marnie Sullivan]

"Ah, thank you!" As quickly as her disappointment had welled up, it soon faded, replaced by a wave of relief. Marnie grinned, and her shouldered unstiffened - she hadn't even noticed them go rigid.

"I don't mind," she assured him with a shake of her head. "It'll just be like we're starting small, that's all! I mean, it's not like fighting and chasing people is all you do. I want to learn the day-to-day stuff too!" They had to start somewhere, right? And while Marnie was already raring to go on a mission, realistically she knew that that would have to come later. And there was probably plenty of paperwork and assorted minutiae to iron out first anyway, like schedules and expected duties and whatnot. She would never have another chance this big, and she wanted to do it properly. "So where do we start?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

They had gotten that out of the way.

Sean picked up his coffee, left over from earlier, to sip it, before frowning to himself. Cold coffee held no place in his life. He didn’t even enjoy iced coffee in the summer from those boutique cafes.

To remedy that, he rose from the table to set the mug in the microwave for twenty seconds.

Turning back around to face Marnie, and to allow him to make eye contact with Eleanor in her highchair, he went over his mental to-do list for the day. “We’re going to finish our coffee and wait for Eleanor to tire herself so she can take her nap. Then I’m going to change into something more appropriate.” Sweatpants and a bathrobe were acceptable for spending the day at home with his daughter, but not for houseguests at all, certainly not for spending time with his new sidekick. “After that, we should sit down and go over powers and the United Nations Charter, as a starting point.”

Although he knew they covered the latter at Hammel, he wanted to make sure that they were on the same page in terms of interpreting the letter and spirit of the declaration. He also wanted to have a better idea of her powers before they could do anything more hands-on.

[Marnie Sullivan]

That sounded like a sensible plan to Marnie, even if she didn't like the idea of waiting on a baby to get started. But Eleanor - as wide awake as she was - was awfully cute, so rather than resent her for that, Marnie just wished again that her file had been up to date before she'd shown up. And that the agency had bothered to notify Sean that she was coming; frankly she didn't care whether he was dressed in sweatpants and a bathrobe or a thousand-dollar tailored suit. But at least she'd had the option to dress up that day, in an outfit that she considered to be her most professional but which made her look something like an airline stewardess, and it did cause them to look rather mismatched.

"Sounds good to me!" Marnie replied, grin wide. Even if they couldn't get started immediately like she wanted, she was still in Sage's house having coffee at his table, which was providing much more of a buzz than the coffee itself was. "Maybe... maybe I could hear some stories while we wait?" she added hopefully.