Writing Challenge: 100 Stories. 1 Month.

[Misato Hazukashi]

5. Throw

Misato leapt at the chance to babysit Niko when Mr. Kilbourne had to go to an out-of-town hand specialist to get the muscles working properly again. Emergency numbers were all jotted down in a tidy list, pinned to the fridge, and the little brunette had promised he would guard the boy with his life. He'd gone through a list of activities he had planned with James, and grinned when he'd gotten approval, then stood on the cabin's porch, waving as the car disappeared.

The first activity was to build a tent. The pair slaved away for a few hours to make the fortress, where they climbed inside and Moe told stories about far away princesses and frogmonsters. He'd drawn pictures to go with the story as he told it, and laughed when the little blonde boy had wrung his t-shirt at the bottom at a cliff hanger.

The second activity was to try and bake a cake for James and Chase's return. Niko was to help Moe crack the eggs into the bowl, and carefully measure out the flour. Moe quietly zested and squeezed lemon juice into the mixture and the pair of them had laughed when one of the pips from the last lemon shot across the room, Milo arching indignantly at the intrusion. Once it was in the oven, the pair of them peered into the glass door with anticipation, eager to see their finished results.

Moe was just quietly rinsing one of the bowls out while Niko chose a DVD for them to watch together, when a strange knock on the door came. Arming himself with the soapy spatula, Moe peered through the window to see who it was, then graciously answered. It was only when he answered that he saw the gun.

"Is James in?" The taller man had asked, in an accent Moe couldn't quite grasp at. The others at the doorway also seemed armed, and the brunette toed the floor anxiously, shaking his head.

"No. I'm b- ... House sitting." He lied quickly, still grasping the spatula in one hand, knuckles white. But then the young boy walked across the hallway to the door, and Misato flinched, swallowing down a ball of fear into the pit of his stomach.

"That's Niko." A familiar figure spat, and the tiny brunette blinked in alarm. Was that... ... no. For a second, Moe just stood there in the doorway as the others gradually crept closer, holding his spatula out in front of him defensively, eyes wide. "Now listen here sweetheart, we're not worried about you. We just want the boy."

Those words made something rise up in the Japanese teen, charging towards the door and slamming it hard into the man in the doorway. Urgently, he spun round and grabbed up Niko, holding the boy close to him.

"What's happening?" The blonde urged, eyes large with fear.

"Some mean men are here, Niko. Some mean men are here and they want to hurt you." Moe hurried through the house, the footsteps of the others heavy behind him. "You need to run when we get to the back door, okay? I want you to run really really really fast. This is my cellphone. You need to call Vincent. And call your dad. Tell them that there are people with guns at the house trying to hurt you." The brunette's voice rushed, shoving the cellphone into Niko's hands, then pushing the back door open. "Run Niko, please, RUN!"

Niko staggered out into the grass, tripping a few paces, before flying through the woods near the house, pretending this was just another game. It was just another game. He ran and ran, till sick burnt his throat, till he felt dizzy and there was a stitch in his side. He ran till he saw the road, and then he hugged his knees and cried, cried down the phone at the two people he was told to call.

Moe waited silently by the back door.

Give Niko time. Give Niko time. He thought, his pixie wings bursting through his back, hands grabbing as much of the dust off them as humanly possible. He could just catch Niko disappearing out of the corner of his eye when the first man, the one from earlier, came charging towards him, gun drawn.

"Where the FUCK is he?" He shouted, his accent thick and terrifying to the teen.

At first, no sound came out of Misato's mouth, lips stuck together in dry terror. Then, in an act of defiance, the brunette threw the dust into his eyes.

"I'm not telling YOU." He shouted, trying to wrangle the gun from his hands, the grip almost too hard to break. Everything was blurry, all Moe could think of was his promise earlier. Protect Niko with his life. Protect a little boy with his life. It was the right thing to do. It had to be the right thing to do.

One of the two women in the group stormed forward, knocking the gun from the Japanese boy's hands, then pressing her own gun into the curve of his throat.

"Wrong Answer. Wrong Answer." She had hissed, the other woman echoing her words.

A shot went off.

Moe blinked rather dimly for a moment, then slowly sagged.

Buy Niko time. Buy Niko time.

He wasn't sure if he was meant to hurt, or if the adrenaline hounding his heart was stopping the pain from coming. His mouth tasted metallic. It tasted like cold iron. It tasted like molten metal... till it didn't taste of anything anymore.

Moe's dimming eyes looked over to the oven. The cake timer pinged, and he managed a tiny smile in his last fleeting moments.

The lemon cake was done.

_{My apologies for borrowing not only some of MSAD, but Niko, Chase and James. It's not canon! Promise!}

[Jesse Adams]

37. Spoil

Even a year ago, Jesse wouldn't have been able to picture himself like this. Walking the mall, hand in hand with someone that actually meant something to him. Around the same time he'd begun to realize that what he and Gabriel had shared had not been love, someone had come back into his life. Someone he hadn't expected. He'd worked so hard to tie off his connections to the compound, to MSAD. He'd stuck to behaving like a regular human. He'd gone to the high school, kept away from any kind of meta connections.

And now, he was walking around the Pilot Ridge mall, his hand firmly in Oliver's grasp. For the first time in a while, he was happy. They were having a good time, conversing about things that were well out of MSAD's scope. School, friends, summer plans. The fake brunette was actually grinning as Oliver ribbed him for not picking a college yet. Absolutely nothing was going to ruin this. Nothing at al -

"Kenny!"

Oh dear God, no.

Jesse tried pulling Oliver in the opposite direction, but there was no stopping this disaster. His 'Dad' slung his arm around his neck and gave him a rough noogie. "How's my favorite kid?" Nate's rule of thumb seemed to be that the bigger the possibility of public humiliation, the more he wanted to do it. Jesse growled and reluctantly let go of Oliver's hand in favor of trying to duck out of Nate's grip.

"You're not funny, Max." He shot a sharp glare the DJ's way. "Stop touching me."

"You were touching Oliver just fine," he shot back. In all honesty, Nathanael had no remorse for what he was doing. He still hadn't quite let go of the whole not-showing-up-for-dinner incident, and this had seemed like a perfect place to exact revenge. Jesse had made it all too easy to bring it upon himself, too.

"Where are you going, Jess?"

"Mall."

"With who?"

"Friend."

"Homework's done?"

"Yup."

"... Does your vocabulary actually consist of more than one word answers today?"

"Nope."

"Fine. Have fun."

Avantage: Nathan.

Tailing the kid hadn't been hard. Nate knew Jesse was notoriously proud of his midnight blue Mustang GT. He'd found it in the parking lot and slipped his truck in beside it. Then it had only been a matter of aimless wandering until he'd found the insolent child.

Now, it was time to have some fun.

"So. Oliver. You're into skinny brats that disobey their fathers, huh?" Oliver gave him a questioning look. Jesse just growled and looked away.

"Shut up."

"See?"

"But... he's not... your real..."

"For all intents and purposes, yes, he is. He's Kenneth Maxwell Lee, which makes him my son. "

"Shut. Up." Jesse's fingers were twitching, balling into fists. He wished he had his Glock. That would shut Max up for good. As it was, he was glaring daggers at him. "Just go away, Max." Nate just gave him that stare. The one he used when he knew exactly what Jesse was talking about, he just wouldn't acknowledge it until he actually corrected himself. "... Dad. Go. Away."

Beside Jesse, Oliver was trying not to laugh. After everything they'd been through, everything that had happened at the compound, this was just absurd. Nathan spent another moment just leering at Jesse before shrugging and walking away, hands up. Jesse actually breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't expected that to work as well as it had.

So, back to the thing that he was pretty sure wasn’t a date. (Or maybe it was. He had no idea.)

They had gone back to holding hands, looking around in the music store when the PA system crackled to life.

“Attention shoppers. There is a lost child in the mall. Please be on the lookout for Kenneth Lee, from Pilot Ridge. His father is very worried about him, and waiting at the security desk. Kenneth is described as approximately 5’8”, brunette, wearing jeans and a black hoodie. If anyone locates him, please contact security staff immediately.”

Jesse paused, the CD in his hand falling to the floor. Had he heard that right? Beside him, Oliver was quietly snickering into his hand.

Jesse. Was. Going. To. Kill. Him.

He tried to ignore the stares that were coming his way as he stormed out of the store. Oliver trailed behind, trying to calm him, but it really wasn’t working. Jesse wasn’t listening.

The moment the security desk came into view, Nathan leaning against it with a smug grin, Jesse wanted to punch him. Hard. In the face, the gut, he didn’t care. It didn’t help when Nate shifted away from the desk, arms spread.

“Kenny! I was so worried about you!” Faked sincerity. Nathan had it down to a science. Jesse blushed furiously.

“You are so dead.” Nathan ignored him, pulling him into an obnoxiously tight hug. To bystanders, it might have looked like a happy reunion. But the quietly hissed words into Jesse’s ear obliterated that vision.

“Consider us even. Don’t skip out on dinner again.”

“Fuck you. You wrecked our...”

“Date? I know.”

“Shut up!”

Oliver just stood by, shaking his head slowly. Some things had changed since the compound.

And then again, some things were exactly the same.

[Ella Tate]

34. Fence

The hospital suite was quiet as Ella's head rolled to the side on the reclined bed. Her hand jerked sporadically by her side every now and then as she started waking up. The door swung open soundlessly as a tall dark haired man entered the room with a young girl with chestnut brown hair tumbling down her back, framing her still chubby cheeks. "You wanna wake mummy up?" The tall man asked, looking down at the little girl who nodded with a small smile before letting go of her father's hand.

Her small hand went through the bars of the bed to place it over Ella's; they immediately stopped moving as Ella's eyes fluttered open. The mismatched eyes took in the two most important people in her life and a tired smile slid across her lips. "Hey beautiful." She croaked to the little girl before picking her up to sit on the bed. "The nice nurse said my baby brother's safe." The little girl grinned widely. Ella nodded before leaning her head towards the man's lips, feeling the supple warmth against her temple.

"Dr. Gordon says you're allowed to go back home today. Nothing's wrong with the baby or you." The man said, his hand rubbed up and down her back soothingly. "God, I am tired." Ella sighed before pulling the man closer to her, resting her head against his taut stomach. He moved his hand down her thick dark hair. "You did good, babe." The man's raspy voice was familiarly soothing, reassuring Ella that she did in fact do good.

The door opened once more and Ella saw the transparent plastic bassinet holding the little blue bundle and even from the distance, she could see the dark tuft of hair peeking from above the blue bundle. Ella sighed with relief, looking up at the man, her eyes glistening with fresh tears. "Is that him?" The little girl asked in an excited whisper, looking at both Ella and her father. Ella nodded and all three of them looked into the plastic bassinet at the tiny baby in it.

"Daddy, mummy...can I hold him?"

The moment the man loosened his grip on Ella, she felt cold but she looked on as he walked around the bed to the bassinet to pluck the tiny boy in his hands. For a moment, he said nothing, he just stared at the boy, speechless. "Daddy...?" The little girl held her hands out and the man blinked before he nodded. "Y-yeah." Slowly, and rather hesitantly, he carefully placed the fragile bundle in the young girl's arms. "Just like I taught you," Ella said, her eyes still on the man who had given her practically everything she needed.

"He's perfect," the girl said in a soft whisper. Ella and the man couldn't have agreed more.

---

Cradling the little boy in her arms as she stepped out of the car, the white picket fence of their home [it still felt strange to say their home. Especially after everything they went through] came into view. It hadn't been his choice of home to settle down in but Ella had fell in love with it, simply because it reminded Ella so much of the home she grew up in, down to the light green shutters. The picket fences were the deal makers and Ella was completely sold. All he wanted was for her to be happy.

"I want them to grow up in the kind of home I was brought up in." Ella remembered the words she had said to him as they toured the house. She knew he would have preferred his own apartment. Wrought iron, steely, black and white furniture...that was for a bachelor pad. They were already expecting their first child together by the time they found this house. She didn't think he would argue even if he could.

The little girl swung open the fence happily, running across the cobbled pavement before jumping over the manicured lawn he had maintained much to her utter amusement. "Welcome home, Mrs. Lawrence." Ella leaned against the fence, the baby still in her arms as she looked up at her husband. "Say it again." She said with a small smile. "Welcome home, Mrs. Isabella Lawrence." He repeated, pulling her close, careful not to crush the tiny baby in Ella's arms, before his lips descended upon hers.

A/N: This is completely and utterly non-canon. Never shall it happen canonly. It was just some self-indulgent piece of fluff because you gotta admit. Jake and Ella babies. BEYOOTIFUL. That is all.

[Mia Keystone]

This au blatantly stolen from Kayla.

15. Seeking

”It was an odd sight, that was for sure. The girl was tiny, couldn’t be an inch over five feet, but he was big. Taller then Ben even, gangly.” Leila shrugged and rubbed her hands together. It was cold, and they were too nervous to light a fire. Cobalt was frowning, but not speaking, yet. Apart from Ginny, it was only them. Everyone else was asleep, waiting to be woken up to take watch.

”Anyway, she was sleeping and he was on watch, but he didn’t respond when I tried to call out to him. They were just kids, after all. She had a bandage around her head, and both looked like they needed food,” the blonde woman glanced over to where a grim faced girl was munching methodically on a can of peaches, then ran a hand through her hair and grimaced. It needed a wash, badly. ”Then suddenly she bolts upright and grabs his arm and this tiny taser thing,” Leila chuckled slightly at the memory, ”didn’t look like it would do more then stun a toddler but when she grabbed it, it started crackling. Tiny little thing doesn’t even look at the guy but he nods or something, and starts packing their stuff while she looks around.”

Cobalt smirked slightly; he was starting to realize who Leila had stumbled on. She was still alive then. Across the little circle they’d made, Ginny glanced up. ”Then what?” she asked flatly, but Cobalt wasn’t fooled.

Leila shrugged, finishing her own mouthful of cold soup. ”I didn’t wanna surprise them, the girl looked like it wouldn’t take much to get her to start shooting off with that amped up taser thing, so I called out and put up my arms, called out that I didn’t wanna hurt them and all that white flag crap.” Cobalt snorted, but waved her on when his old assistant shot him a look.

”She pointed that little taser gun right at me, and it was sparking like a firecracker,” Leila went on, ”but the big guy, he put a hand on her shoulder and the sparks sort of died down so I stepped out and came forward. She was none too keen on me going too near them; twitchy little girl,” Ginny have a lopsided grin into her can of peaches. ”But he seemed pretty calm. Looked at me for a moment then touched her shoulder and she sort of relaxed too, then started barking questions at me like some sort of army general.

“”Jonah says you’re not one of them,” she’d barked, ”but you’re a meta. Who’re you, and what do you want.” So I told them I didn’t want anything, that I was just a straggler like them, trying to get somewhere safe,”[/b] As she paused to take another sip of soup, Ginny huffed with impatience, her eyes fixed on her own food.

”Anyway, she wasn’t interested after that. Just said they didn’t need any help and turned to keep packing after muttering something to the boy. He’d waited until she was looking away then looked at me and, must have been like Sean,” there was a collective wince around the little group, and Cobalt’s eyebrows snapped together, ”because I got these words in my head, but he wasn’t talking. Said something about the girl needing help. Her brains were a bit scrambled, or something. It was odd word and images, hard to get. Something about her pissing off another gang, getting knocked around a bit.” Leila frowned as she sipped the Cream of Mushroom, squinting slightly. ”Morgan or something, maybe. Her name, I mean. Don’t remember.”

”Mia,” Ginny and Cobalt corrected simultaneously, then glanced at each other. Leila nodded, not paying enough attention to appreciate what had just happened.

”Something like that. So I hand him the first aid kit we’d salvaged from the hospital and ask him what they’re doing out here, and then suggest they come back with me. I didn’t tell them where,” she added in annoyance as Cobalt shot her a look of disapproval, ”but told them there were a bunch of us, that it was safer in a group, that we’d find help together. He didn’t say anything at first, but then I got the words again and it was like...” the woman shrugged and set the now empty can down. ”They were pretty depended on each other. Felt safer like that. He was grateful but made it clear she wouldn’t do it, and he wouldn’t leave her.”

There was a loud clang and the adults straightened quickly, looking around. Ginny looked sheepishly at the can she’d thrown against the ground. ”Sorry,” she muttered. ”just... sounds like she was being stupidly stubborn.”

Leila nodded, then shrugged. ”They were looking for something, he said, but then she was back and tugging on his arm and shooting me death looks so I didn’t get to find out what. She told me to go away, kept that taser pointed at me till I was out of sight.” The woman grinned, a little darkly. ”could here her muttering about needing to relocated, think she recognized me from Pilot Ridge. Couldn’t say I knew her though.”

The story was over and Leila stretched her arms over her head and glanced at Cobalt. ”I’m done. You two wake me up when it’s sunrise, ok?”

Cobalt and Ginny waited until the blonde woman was asleep before edging closer to each other.

”It’s Mia,”/ Ginny whispered quickly, her face set. ”And Jonah. I knew they’d have gotten through ok.” She looked at the older man with determination. ”We can still find them. They can’t have gotten far. She’ll want to travel with us when she sees me, and Robbie.”

With resignation, Cobalt shook his head. ”We can’t risk it, Ginny,” he said softly, putting a hand on her arm as she looked away furiously. ”They could be anywhere by now, if they’re moving quickly. We can’t risk it.” Ginny still looked furious, but she knew. It was too dangerous with the trackers and seekers out and about.

”They won’t make it, just them,” she whispered, her voice sandpaper harsh. ”You know they won’t.”

Cobalt raised an eyebrow. ”I only met her once, but she seemed pretty tough to me,” he said. ”And if she’s got a telepath with her, they can avoid any real trouble.”

Giving a laugh that sounded a little like a sob, she nodded. ”It’s good, knowing some more made it,” she said after a moment. ”Like, like we might actually come out the other side, you know? Find a safe place and all? And,” she cleared her throat, ”And if Jonah and Mia are looking for it too, we might see them there.”

”I don’t doubt it,” Cobalt said, and, for a moment, he could believe it to.

[Cobalt Weaver]

Now What?

[ooc: with respects/apologies to everyone mentioned. Blame Neon and Dryope for coercing me to post this <3]

A few months ago, Cobalt existed in perpetual annoyance of the town of Pilot Ridge. A few months ago, he was contemplating moving back to Chicago to get away from the stifling small town atmosphere and the irritating telepaths and troubled teenagers and scores of other small irritations that grated under his skin and set his teeth on edge. That was a few months ago.

Now, he would give anything to have that Pilot Ridge back.

Now, the little town, the surrounding state, hell, the entire country was in a veritable civil war that had all began right here. Now there were children still holed up at Hammel without any way to get to them to their families. Now there were no more irritating telepaths. There weren’t a whole lot of people from Hammel left anymore.

Cobalt didn’t know many of the Hammel people closely. Hell, Cobalt didn’t know any of the Hammel people closely. But enough people in town did that Cobalt got the gist of things. Clarisse and Dalton, who were the people he knew the best from Hammel (besides Sean), had been blown up in their home. Emiko, the security officer he’d met all but once at a party, had apparently been ripped to pieces. Literally. Yulia, little, solemn Yulia, had blown herself up in her own bathroom, staring at a mirror and fighting against Underwood’s puppetry. And Sean Neville. The leader of Hammel, the support of metahumans in general and the man who (in Cobalt’s opinion) was the start of this whole mess. He had died with a bullet to the back of the head. A horrifyingly mundane way for Sean Neville to die. But Cobalt didn’t care. Cobalt was pretty sure he hated Sean, as tactless as it was to hate the dead.

He hated Sean because he got Josh killed.

It hurt to remember, really. Apparently, they had thought Josh would be a threat to them, would seek revenge after they killed his closest friend. So they had broken into his house and.

Well.

Cobalt hadn’t known til a few days later, when he came over to see if Josh was okay, and found a body in one room and a head in another. He still had nightmares.

That had only been the beginning, really. He hadn’t been able to find Riley for a few weeks now, and the not knowing was driving him crazy. Being the last of what Leila had affectionately dubbed “The Dork Troupe” ached. But he did still have Leila. Albeit barely.

Leila had always been an incredibly powerful meta. How powerful, Cobalt hadn’t really understood until representatives from MSAD had shown up at their work towards the beginning of it all and implied that if MSAD wasn’t sure of their loyalties, they would be disposed of. To put it lightly. Cobalt had never seen Leila that furious, but he was also fairly certain that they were still picking up pieces of those officials.

And now, because of this, they were living as fugitives, more or less. They had openly defied MSAD and now they were hunted for it. They, amongst others. The pair had found a pocket of people who had also gotten away and were living in the outskirts of the town, near the woods. He’d met Ginny, a hard-faced, quiet girl who couldn’t be older than twenty who was missing an arm, a wide-eyed woman who could turn into an octopus, and a tousle-haired boy with weather manipulation who sometimes yelled things in his sleep. He thought nobody noticed. Cobalt understood.

Losing your best friend was like losing a limb.

He didn’t like to associate with the teenaged weather manipulator, mostly because it made him think of Elaine. Elaine, who had never wanted to be anything more than a mother, a nurturing, kind and loving woman. His best friend. She’d been tortured for information on Morgan’s whereabouts, when MSAD was trying to clean out those who would not be loyal to them. Cobalt had tried everything to get to her. To save her.

But, as always, he’d been too late.

He knew what people thought, now. He even caught the worried, sidelong glances that Leila kept shooting him. She’d tried to talk to him about it. Worried that he’d gone a little crazy in the aftermath. Cobalt had reassured her, but if he were being incredibly truthful, he felt as though something had broken in his brain. Like something had been knocked loose and there was no fixing it anymore.

But that didn’t matter. Not really. Because now he had a way of getting revenge.

The small group had taken it upon themselves to ferry nonmetas out of Pilot Ridge. Ginny had humorlessly called it the “Underground MetaRoad.” Which Esme had thought to be simultaneously hilarious and offensive. Robbie didn’t say much anymore.

But it wasn’t as though everything was hopeless. They’d heard whispers of friends and students and irritated teenagers who broke into offices to plant bugs and wear stupid hats. It helped, those little bits of information that gave him hope that some would make it out okay. And he was pretty sure that if anybody would make it out of this mess okay, it was the little five foot tall girl who was ready and able to kick anyone’s ass. It had helped reassure Ginny as well. Which was nice; he felt bad for Ginny. A few months ago, she was probably happy.

Cobalt holstered his gun—one of many, now—and stretched, staring with blank eyes at the watery sunset. It was getting dark. Time to get moving.

As if on cue, Leila sidled up next to him, dressed in dark jeans and a hoodie. One of his, he recognized, and it almost made him smile. Almost. “You ready to go?” He tilted his head at her, shrugging on his own dark jacket.

“Always.” Leila quirked a little grin back at him, adjusting her wrist-sheaths. She’d made them herself and kept small blades in them. She could draw them at the flick of her wrist and they’d saved his life many a time. Not that she’d ever let him forget that.

Cobalt nodded once, “Okay, so according to Kateri, we’re going to meet a group about ten klicks south of our current position. We’re meant to take them here to rest and then tomorrow move them out.”

Leila nodded, taking it all in, “How’s our cover going to be?”

“Sufficient.” Cobalt responded, “But we have to be careful. It’s a larger group than last time.”

“Got it. ETA?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Let’s roll then.”

-

This was a good area to choose, Cobalt thought absently as he and Leila crept silently through the thick underbrush. His shadows wrapped around them both, rendering them more or less invisible. Leila crouched at his side, her grey eyes scanning the area alertly.

We’re early, her slender hand curving in silent communication, a form he’d taught her a long time ago. We wait?

Cobalt nodded once, curtly, before hunkering down in the brush once more. Now to wait.

-

After two minutes and thirteen seconds, movement in the brush caught their attention. They both tensed, their eyes trained on the movement in the dark. Finally, after a short, tense pause, a sound like a large, growling cat echoed in the shadows. And a white lion padded into view, making Cobalt simultaneously relax and snort in disgust.

“It’s like having a ‘here we are!’ sign up or something.” He shook his head. Slowly, he raised a hand and shot a stream of shadow in the air. The lion turned and let out a snuffling, growling noise and began to morph back into a skinny-looking young man. Cautiously, Cobalt and Leila straightened up, heading towards him.

“Not a lot of you,” Sett observed quietly, glancing between the two.

“We don’t have a lot to spare.” Cobalt replied briefly. “Now, let’s just—”

“Cobalt?”

Cobalt froze at the sound of his name. That was—it couldn’t—it wasn’t possible, he’d—

“…Ben?” Cobalt looked around Sett to see Ben walking over to them, with three other people he didn’t recognize. Cobalt didn’t much care either because my god, it was Ben and he thought he’d never see the other man again, thought he was dead, thought a many number of things that kept him awake at night and it was like a piece of his mind had clicked back to right and he felt so much better. When Ben smiled at him, Cobalt was pretty sure his heart was either breaking or re-healing and either way, it hurt. “Oh my god.” He breathed, “I thought… they said… You disappeared.” He stammered, reaching out with one trembling hand to rest on Ben’s shoulder, just to prove to himself that the other man was actually alive.

“I went into hiding,” Ben reached up and clasped Cobalt’s hand in his own, “I didn’t have any way to leave word, I’m so sorry, I—”

“Doesn’t matter.” Cobalt croaked out, his voice rough and trembling. “You’re… it doesn’t matter.” He gripped Ben’s hand tight.

“Okay guys,” Leila piped up, a smile in her voice, “I think we have to—”

A shot rang out.

Everyone instinctively dropped to a crouch, Cobalt pulled his gun out without thinking. They were spotted, someone had given away their position, something had gone wrong, they had followed them—

Leila was still standing.

Cobalt was about to snap at her when she turned to look at him, her round face shocked and pale. There was a spreading patch of darkness, visible even through Cobalt’s black hoodie. She shot him one rueful grin before crumpling to the floor.

And then shit really hit the fan.

“No, Leila, no!” Cobalt yelled, reaching out one helpless hand to the still form lying amidst the leaves. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t have happened, she was fine, she was fine, all they needed to do was get to her and then she would be okay again; she would look up and grin and call him ‘dad’ and it wouldn’t—she wouldn’t be.

“Cobalt, get down!” Ben grabbed him by both shoulders and forced him back down into a crouch and Cobalt hadn’t even realized he had stood up. Shaking his head furiously, Cobalt ducked back down and began squeezing off shots in the direction of their open fire. He still had Ben, he needed to protect Ben.

On his left, Sett had transformed back and with a fierce growl and lunged into the dark, pulling one hapless gunman out of the bushes with his teeth. Cobalt had managed to finish off a few but he was starting to realize that there were too many. They were outnumbered. Cursing, he turned to Ben. “Okay, listen to me,” He leaned close to Ben’s ear, “We need to get you and anyone else out of here, so follow me. Stay close to me.” He grabbed Ben’s hand briefly, glaring at him fiercely, “You don’t get to leave me again.”

Ben looked a little surprised, but he nodded, leaning away to look for any survivors. “Hey, Cobalt I think—unh!” Ben’s body snapped backwards as a bullet pushed through his body. He lay flat on the ground, gasping up at the stars.

“Ben!” Cobalt scrambled over to kneel by him, his breath coming in short, frantic bursts, “Ben, Ben, look at me. Lemme see.” There was a widening dark spot seeping through the front of Ben’s shirt. Cobalt shook his head fiercely, pressing down hard on the wound. “No, no, no, no, no. Ben. You aren’t allowed to do this. I just…” He looked frantically at the younger man, his expression contorting to reveal all the pain and anguish that he hadn’t stopped feeling since the day Josh died. Since the day he’d heard that Ben was probably dead. And now… “I just got you back.” Cobalt gasped, pressing his other hand to the side of Ben’s face, angling it so that Ben could meet his eyes.

Ben let out a few gasps before coughing out, “I’m sorry, Blue.” His gaze getting more and more unfocused. Distant. Cobalt pressed his forehead to Ben’s.

“I love you, do you hear me?” Cobalt growled, tears starting to slide down his face. “I love you.”

The smile on Ben’s face was beatific as his eyes slid out of focus. Cobalt gripped Ben’s shoulder a moment longer, pressing a kiss to the younger man’s forehead. Everything had fallen apart. Everything had let loose in his brain and everything was screaming in his mind and something vital and precious had gone skittering sideways into the night as the light left Ben’s eyes, leaving them blue and cold. Cobalt stared at him for a little while longer, before a cold, inhuman snarl worked his way up his throat. He turned, and stood up.

“See you in a bit, Benny.” He growled, extending his shadows, as black as pitch and drawing his gun.

Maybe they couldn’t see through his shadows, but he sure could.

And it would be one hell of a last stand.

[Yulia Sokolov]

53. View

{just to continue AU apocalyptic Hammel, like Kayla said, apologies}

How did it get to this point? How did it all slip so far away so quickly? Things had seemed to be going so well, so positively. Didn’t they have dreams of bringing down MSAD? And it was no question, they had the power and the talent, but it had all gone horribly wrong. Even only a handful of metas were resistant to cold metal bullets. Yulia had not been ready for it, and MSAD had proved to be far more extensive then could have ever been imagined.

She was not sure how it had gone so horribly wrong. She remembered the first confrontation, it was burned into her mind. It was a mix of screams and the flashing of guns. Yulia had been lucky, Yulia had survived. The psionic blast had allowed her to disable many and even kill a few but eventually the effort of it wore her out. Truth be told it was the military training that had saved her life. She knew where to take cover, she knew how to use a good deal of the weapons she had picked off of the dead, and she knew not to be a fool when it was time to retreat. Heroics would do no good now, because without as many survivors as possible there could not be a second front. However she doubted that there would be one. This was all out war and MSAD was not above picking them all off, one by one if necessary. Rhys, poor Rhys who looked so much like her darling dead Evgeny was dead. She had seen him taken down in the battle, one of many. She couldn’t disable the person who had fired the bullet that ripped through him. And hadn’t they killed Honor? Her co worker? That was senseless, the woman was blind and probably defenseless in that moment. She had seen others as well, others blown to bits or mercilessly cut down. The body count only grew according to the news from Cobalt. Clarisse, Dalton, Josh, all of them, it made her feel sick.

Yulia dabbed at the wound on her cheek as she looked at herself in the mirror. All those deaths weighed so heavily. She looked back at herself, grim with the knowledge that she had made one mistake. During that battle she had looked up, during that battle she had made eye contact with a man who she considered now not just to be a threat but the devil himself. Gabriel Underwood. He had reached into her mind. Yulia immediately tried to blast him out to the best of her abilities but as time passed since she had come to a horrifying realization. He had a tendril in there, even now it was there.

Yulia wiped her cheek and then ran a thumb over her chapped bottom lip. If he was really in there, as she knew he was, she was a danger to the rest of them. She could hear the low murmur of voices downstairs. Cobalt, Ben, and Leila were down there, probably discussing what the next step was. She couldn’t be near that, not if Gabriel could hear it too. She searched in the medicine cabinet for some Neosporin and then closed the mirrored case.

Go downstairs…

Yulia’s eyes flashed up to the mirror. Her lips moved there and the figure had a sinister face but it was her. It was the oddest sensation, but those words were not hers, that expression was not hers, it was someone else’s.

“What?”

”Go downstairs Yulia.”

Underwood, oh god Underwood. Yulia stared in horror at that reflection, and her hand moved of its own accord towards the doorknob. Her other hand gripped the sink firmly, preventing her from moving towards that door.

“No, no you can’t make me, get out of my head!” A cold laugh sounded from the lips of the mirror image.

”You don’t have a say in that. Go ahead now, go downstairs and listen.”

She wasn’t going to do that, her knocked on the sink turning white until she managed to regain control of her other hand. Both then went to the sink as she dropped her head and drew in a deep and shaking breath. It was so had to resist the MSAD leader’s invasion, and she was so tired already. Then her head snapped back up.

“You can’t make me betray them.”

”You will do as I say. Go downstairs, listen, and then kill them. I want all three dead.” Yulia shook her head violently. The knot that was already in her stomach took on an intolerable tightness. Kill them? Kill the people who mattered most to her now? She said nothing, not bothering to waste the energy, focusing her entire self on keeping her body still and her mind her own.

”You’re too weak to resist me Yulia, and why do you bother? Do you remember what they did to you in Russia? Evgeny is dead because meta lives mean nothing to non-metas. These people deserve to die. Cobalt and Leila had defied MSAD and Ben, Ben is one of them. You will kill them for me and then there might be a place for you with us. If you don’t, it’s a matter of time before we’ll be there anyways.”

Yulia stood still as her body was compelled to move. She gritted her jaw in resistance, tears nearly welling up from her fury, sadness, and effort. There was nothing she could do to stop this. After all they had done for her she would either slaughter them herself or leave them to die as she stood up here alone to avoid the former.

Then it hit her, she did have a way out. The only way out.

Keeping her mind as clear as possibly Yulia grabbed Ben’s razor off of the sink, popping out a blade. She brought it instantly to the wall, working as quickly as possible.

”What are you doing? A warning Yulia? Really? That won’t do them any good up here Yulia, it’s just you and me.” Yulia finished it none the less and then returned to the sink, compelled once again to view her reflection.

”Even if they come up here I have you, and you’ll kill them. You won’t be able to help it, I’m in your head, I have you.”

“You forgot one thing.” She replied, voice quiet and shaking with both effort and grimmest of determination her eyes locked on herself in the mirror. If Gabriel said anything more it was lost in the rush that killed her mind. With everything she had left she let loose one hell of a blast of psionic energy. The force hit the mirror, shattering it with a loud crack and a splintering sound. It rebounded, hitting her head on. Yulia stood there, frozen for a moment before she crumpled to the floor, dead.

The sudden noise of the mirror caused first a pause and then an end to the conversation downstairs. Looks were exchanged among the three before all three rose. It was better to move in packs nowadays rather than individually, even in a house that was considered safe. In a line they ascended the stairs to the dark upstairs, Ben first, followed by Cobalt and then Leila.

“Yulia? Yulia are you alright?” Ben asked, knocked softly on the bathroom door. No reply came. A frown creased Cobalt’s face.

“Ben, open the door,” he said. Ben twisted the knob and swung the door open.

“Yulia!” Ben dropped down next to his housemate. His fingers fumbled to find a pulse, pressing against one spot in her neck and then another in desperation. He started to tear up as he pleaded with the corpse. “Yulia, Button, don’t be dead, please, don’t be dead…” The words faded away as the harsh reality closed down. Ben was reduced to sobs. Cobalt looked on for a moment before stepping forward. He put a hand on Ben’s shoulder, not making a sound but with an undeniably sadness in his eyes. Leila’s voice broke through then.

“Blue, Blue look.” There was a hitch of repression to her voice. Cobalt turned and Ben looked over. There was Yulia’s message, carved into the wall.

Run, they’re coming

Then the front door downstairs was smashed suddenly in….

[Alexander McKenzie]

39. Spill

It had taken Ann and Alex a few days to cool off from their little blowout. Ann had been apologetic, and though Alex couldn't bring himself to stay really angry at her, she'd still hit a nerve.

Of course, he shouldn't have expected her to know. After all, wasn't that what he wanted? For everyone to treat him like a normal teenage guy. It just hurt. He'd been trying to be understanding, and she had gone and bitten his head off, bumping that nerve in the process.

But it brought up a valid point. They'd been dating for months, and it was about time he actually sat down and talked to her. His mother had been prodding him for ages to tell Ann, because it was only a matter of time before something happened and he would have to tell her anyway. One small slip, and he'd have to spill anyway. So why not on his terms?

Easy.

He was actually afraid.

The 'c' word seemed to scare of a few prospective girlfriends in the past. Kid stuff, thinking you could 'catch' it like a cold. He'd accepted it as a fact of life. Some people were just turned off by the idea. Not that he could help it. It was a part of him, had defined his past.

Screw it. He had to tell her. He didn't like having secrets between them, and this was something she had every right to know.

But he was still afraid. So many times, he replayed the scenario, always ending at the worst possible case. Ann simply getting up and walking away. He didn't think she would, but it was still a fear. He really felt something for her. Whether it was love or not, he couldn't tell yet, but there was something there. Which was exactly why he was afraid of telling her the truth.

Two nights later, he had his arm gently around Ann's shoulders as they watched a movie, though neither of them was actually paying attention. Ann was too focused on feeling Alex's anxieties, and Alex was too focused on trying to word what he wanted to say, all the while trying to hide his discomfort.

Finally, they'd both had enough.

Just as Alex was opening his mouth, Ann sat up from her spot on his shoulder to look at him.

"Ann, there's something I - "

"Alex, what's going on?"

They might have laughed, had the air not been thick with uncertainty. Ann could tell, whatever Alex was thinking about, it was big. She bit her lip, looking up at him from under her bangs. "Sorry," she mumbled. "What did you want to tell me?" She had a sudden fear that he had had enough of her violent mood swings, and he was going to break up with her. For some reason, that sent her heart into a frenzied beat. Please no.

Alex wasn't even looking at her anymore. He was toying with the sleeve of his hoodie, sliding it up and down his wrist. Ann felt his anxiety, and tried to calm him. Finally, Alex took a slow, deep breath in. "Okay," he said softly. "I... you need to know this. After the other day. After what you said."

Ann thought back frantically. What had she said? The only thing she could think of was his strange flare of anger after she'd said... what? She closed her eyes, thinking. It hit her just a moment later, and she glanced up, confused. "When you said you knew what I was feeling?"

At this point, certain other people might have suddenly been picturing sex change operations, but not Ann. Now she was worrying. What could possibly happen to a boy for him to know what cramps of death felt like? Alex had his head ducked, unable to meet her eyes anymore.

"Yes." Ann gently put her hand on his wrist.

"Lexy. What happened?" Alex offered a sad smile before shifting away. He pulled off his hoodie, revealing just a white t-shirt underneath. Gently taking Ann's hand, he laid it on his arm, over the orange ribbon.

"Everyone knows what pink ribbons mean. No one really knows what the orange one means." Ann had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Ann, when I was six years old, I was diagnosed with leukemia." He still couldn't meet her gaze. "I was very sick, but I managed to achieve remission, up until I was ten." He reached up with his other hand and pulled his sleeve up over his shoulder, showing her the small script at the top of the ribbon. Survivor. Ann took a moment to study it.

"But you're better now, right...?" She let the word hang, almost afraid of the answer herself. For the first time since the conversation had begun, Alex let out a little sigh of relief.

"Yes. I'm fine now. I still have to go for tests every so often, but that's it." He finally managed to make himself look up at her. "I just... I figured you had right to know about it. I don't want to keep things from you." The way Ann was looking at him made him want to squirm. "... What? What's wrong?" Was she actually going to do what he had feared? Ask him to leave her dorm, request he stop seeing her? She looked like she was thinking.

Then, slowly, she reached forward and curled her arms around him. She was working hard to keep her power in check, and only let a comforting feeling leak over to Alex. Lexy froze at the feeling of her against him. It was something he'd been so careful not to do, so careful not to overwhelm her system.

"I'm just glad you're okay," she murmured against his side. Alex looked down at her before smiling and carefully wrapping his arms around her. Resting his cheek against her hair, he sighed, stroking his fingers through it.

"Thanks."

[Leila Gold]

90. Smart

The mistake most people tended to make around Leila was that just because she was bubbly and blond, she wasn’t smart. And while she hated to use the comparison, she occasionally compared herself to Elle from Legally Blonde.

The worst part was the feeling that people who came to the office were there for the real lawyer. She’d been referred to as the assistant more times than she could count. Still, she could live with the assumption, since it didn’t really matter on the surface. If people didn’t take her seriously, well, then it would just be that much easier to destroy them when it came time for closing statements.

For example, this case had been led primarily by Cobalt, since he had wanted a chance to get out of the office for a while. Leila had done a lot of the leg work, speaking to the different parties and digging up past cases while Blue led the actual interrogation. It had been a fairly simple case of metahuman prejudice, wherein a young woman was fired when her boss discovered that she was a metahuman. Neither party had been willing to compromise on their demands, therefore the case had gone forward to court. It hadn’t been a case involving a large amount of interviewing or cross-examination, but rather an instance of whether having a metahuman power could be determined as having a “preexisting condition” in the same way that someone would have a disease or disability.

When the time came for closing statements, Leila turned to her boss.

“Let me take this one, Blue,” she murmured. “I’ll knock ‘em dead.”

Cobalt leaned back in his chair. “I look forward to it,” he said with a smile. The first time he had let her in on a case she had been rough, but he now had total faith in her abilities to finish off this case. He would get a chance to relax, and, even better, he’d get to watch his partner do what she did best.

When she left the floor, she caught the opposing attorney looking a bit stunned. He quickly regained his composure and delivered his own closing argument, but it seemed a bit colorless and dull after the previous speech. The court was dismissed and everyone filed into the hallway, where Leila and Cobalt were both heartily thanked by their employer.

The young attorney stepped off by herself to grab a cup of coffee. One of the members of the audience, an older man wearing a worn leather jacket, stepped up to her.

“Ma’am? I’m with the local paper, The Daily Gazette, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the case, which is said by some to be an important step in maintaining rights for metahumans.”

“Shoot, but do remember that I have to keep certain things confidential. I have the right to not answer any of your questions, with the understanding that anything I say can and will be used against me within the public eye.” She said all this with a big smile, trying to keep the conversation friendly.

“Namely what I wanted to know, I suppose, is why you particularly became a lawyer. I understand that it was difficult for you to get the position you’re in now?”

“Not really. At least, not harder than any other lawyer. I wanted to work with metahuman rights, which is why I chose to work under this particular attorney and why we eventually settled in Pilot Ridge, which was an area that would allow us to work more specifically with the topics we were interested in.”

“Do you actually get the cases you hope to? Most people might walk into your office and try to find a different set of attorneys, as you are not the best presented of options, especially considering some of your obvious biases.”

Leila looked at the man. “Sir, I don’t like what you are implying. Just because we are not the conventional set of attorneys does not mean that we are incapable of performing our duties. I should think that our track record speaks for us, and I am of the opinion that our unconventional attitude rather invites people to work with us rather than the other way around. And honestly, I don’t see what this has to do with the case presented here at all. Are you focusing your report on the issues of metahumans as individuals deserving more rights within the system, or are you attempting to write an article that rather defines the differences between ‘metahumans’ and your so-called ‘normal humans’?”

The man stepped back a pace. “I assure you, I meant no—“

“Please.” Leila turned on her heel, then looked back over her shoulder. “I believe this interview is over.” She took a few steps away before calling back. “And mister reporter? I may be blonde, but I assure you, I am not blonde.”

[Alice Perette-Johnston]

16. Feasible

“I’m sorry Alice, but things like that just don’t happen. They’re not possible.” the exasperated psychologist said wearily, her patience obviously growing thin.

“Not feasible.” Alice corrected. “Anything is possible.”

“Fish can’t breath out of water, or talk.” The psychologist snapped, a growing childishness in her making Alice seem like the professional and she like the patient. “If my fish in that bowl over there were to come out of the water he would die, and he wouldn’t say a word about it.”

Alice looked at the telescope goldfish in the bowl, tilting her head. A fish that couldn’t talk? How sad. Alice was quite good friends with the fish in the pond at Hammel. “He can’t talk to you.” Alice corrected placidly, holding her tongue on the fact that she was sure he wouldn’t speak to the rather frazzled lady if he could. “Or perhaps he’s shy. What do you think?”

“That’s it.” The psychiatrist spat, her youthful face contorting into a mask of hatred. “You want to know what I think? I think you’re a freak! I think metas should be put in camps and I think the most infeasible thing is that no one has managed to put a freak like you out of your misery!”

“That is quite enough madam!” came a define, low-tone voice from behind the psychiatrist. She paled and turned to see her goldfish leaning out of its bowl like a tiny child in an over-sized LifeSaver. She looked at it with a slack jaw and wide eyes, Alice smiling sweetly in the chair opposite her.

“and shut your trap, you great blowhard. You look like my mother.”

“This isn’t possible.” She whispered.

“Not feasible.” Alice corrected again, rising languidly from the chair and marching over to the fish bowl, tucking it securely in her grasp before movie slowly towards the exit (she didn’t want to slosh the water about).

“I’ll see you fired yet, woman!” remarked the fish, plopping back into the water.

“Goodbye, Doctor.” Alice chirped as the young professional collapsed in a faint.

Alice took a careful seat on the curb to wait for Mister Clay, who’d been charged with driving her to and from her appointments. Her new friend surfaced, his buggy eyes holding deep concern.

“I am sorry dear. I can’t believe someone like her could be called a doctor.” He huffed. Alice shrugged and picked up the bowl as Miles’ car came into view.

“Don’t worry. Anything is possible.”

[JD Paerson]

78. Manual

Like every other teenage boy, JD had been eagerly waiting for the moment when he would be able to get his driving permit and license. He’d gone through driver’s ed and done all the training so that one fine spring day he had walked out of the MDV with a shiny new permit. Now he was free to start driving, at least a bit. There were all the rules and regulations that applied, but none of that really mattered, really. Or at least it wouldn’t, soon, once he’d done his time and gotten the real license.

Half a year later and a simple driving test and he had his own license. It was just a provisional, so there were still certain restrictions, but with it he could officially drive himself around without anyone else in the vehicle. Freedom.

On the day he turned seventeen, two days after his provisional license expired, he went in once more to pick up his full, bona fide license. He was fully licensed, and that meant he was free to drive anywhere with anyone and do anything he wanted.

Well, there was still one last restriction, though it wasn’t one specifically enforced by the license. There was just the problem that he’d never learned to drive stick-shift. He’d figured it didn’t really matter, since most cars nowadays were automatic, in any case. Besides, he didn’t exactly have someone close on hand to teach him.

None of that was any consolation to him now, as he sat staring at the gearshift in the car. He silently cursed himself for never taking the time to figure this out, and now it was a little late.

“What’re you waiting for?” slurred someone drunkenly in the backseat. “An invitation?”

It hadn’t supposed to go this way, of course. He hadn’t exactly been invited to the party itself, just kind of heard about it and wandered in late. It was his common attitude with parties, and no one had ever actually kicked him out. It did mean, though, that a lot of the drinks had been wiped out already, so he was left with some of the remnants. This particular night there hadn’t been much left at all, only the dregs of a beer keg, and he’d turned it all down. At the end of the night, he was one of the very few sober people around, which meant exactly one thing.

So now he was stuck driving a group of wasted metahuman students back to Hammel. It was dangerous enough in that the kids were not exactly in control of their power, and so odd things kept happening. Even worse was that JD, while in full possession of his wits, still didn’t know how to drive manual.

“No time like the present,” he said under his breath. “Stupid maxims.”

He turned on the car, and someone tapped him on the shoulder. “You gotta step on the clutch,” a blonde girl said. “That’s this foot.” She put her hand on his left leg. “And you gotta do that when you start it, then have it in first gear.”

“Right. And which one is first gear?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” She slithered into the front seat and sat on his lap. “You press this lever here, then have the gearshift up and to the left.” She aimed for the gearshift but missed. It seemed that her depth perception was completely off.

“Well look, I can’t drive when you’re sitting on me,” JD complained, shoveling her off to the side. Then he grabbed her hand and put it on the gear shift, keeping his own hand on the lever. “Show me now, which one is first?”

Slowly, tediously, they managed to get the car to start, though a few false starts left some unpleasant surprises from the drunken passengers in the backseat, who swore. JD swore back at them, then started inching his way up the empty street—everyone else had already gone home or passed out back at the party house.

There were a few close calls on the way home, but under the drunken girl’s tutoring he managed to get them safely back up to the school. The most important part was that they were still alive. It seemed only a side bonus that he had finally almost figured out how to drive a stick shift.

“Good job, Ace,” the girl said, laughing. She leaned forward and planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

JD thought that, in all, the night had been rather fulfilling.

[Zachary LaRousse]

#70 Miles
(Thanks Kayla for letting me borrow your AU. And Neon and Nuala for helping make this more concise and all. And to Zuzu, Penny, etc etc, thanks for letting me borrow your characters even if I didn't really ask. XD.)

A soft growl escaped the young boy’s lips as he eagerly watched the newscast on screen. Granted the images were a little hazy and the videos too shaky, but the destruction that happened on the small town – and the surrounding cities – were that severe that it sent shivers down the boy’s spine despite the poor media quality. Hell on earth as it was dubbed by the media, and he could clearly see why.


He should be happy. And why wouldn’t he be? After all, he was part of the select few who managed to escape the hellhole just in time. Granted he was grounded on their private island somewhere along the Atlantic, alone except for a dozen or so war-trained meta-human staff, but at least he was safe. He had food, water, a sound shelter, clothes – almost all the amenities he used to enjoy when the world was simpler. It’s just like a vacation gone wrong really – with his friends backing out the last minute due to conflicting plans – only this time, he wasn’t so sure he’d see them all back again.

He wasn’t so sure if he’d see him back again.


He could still remember the night that started it all. He had just begun dreaming when his phone rang all of a sudden. “You do know it’s the middle of the night here in Vermont, do you?” he growled, the special tone removing the need to ask who is on the other line.

“Zac, we don’t have time for this. Listen to me very carefully, ok?”

“Cedric,” he sneered, “I am tired and sleepy. I still have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. Could you make it quick?”

“Zac, I need you to pack your stuff quick. Just your valuables, nothing more. A LaRousse helicopter will be there in a few hours.”

The boy almost jumped off his bed when he heard those words. Pack? Helicopter? Why? “Wh-ho-fu-Cedric?” he asked, panic suddenly washing over him, “Dude, what’s happening?”

“Your father had a vision about the school last night. In his sleep.” His dad was powerful enough not to have such sudden visions. This could only mean the direst of situations really.

As Cedric told him, in rather graphic detail, the contents of the dream, the boy suddenly felt mum. For a guy who could talk a person’s ear off, he just sat there, trying to digest everything.

The school attacked. A handful of students, dead. The rest in panic and disarray. The ragtag team of school officials and staff dying horribly at the hands of their captors. Survivors being forced to choose sides. Meta-human violence slowly spreading across the surrounding cities. All in three days.

“The people responsible for your friend Misato’s death,” Cedric added, “They’re responsible for all those too.” The boy unconsciously bit his lips at the mention of the sweet teen’s name. He still can’t believe that he’s gone. And at such a violent death at that.

“Zac? Zac you there?” The teen simply grunted in agreement as his thoughts are still too chaotic for him to say anything of value. “I’ll have to go now. Uncle Bart will pick you up. Stay safe.”


For a good half an hour or so, the boy simply sat on his bed, staring straight to the wall adjacent to him, face devoid of any emotion. He’s still digesting the fact that in a few days, this cozy little town will be a battlefield. That life as he knows it would change.

And how about his ‘friends’? L.C. and Stella? JD? Eric and Autie? Even that ungrateful Ann and her beloved boyfriend? He can’t just leave them, can he?

Lost and confused, he promptly ran out of his room and knocked on the suite a few doors from his. When he figured his loud knocking isn’t really making any difference, he tapped into a gorilla and crushed the doorknob, telling himself he’d just replace it next time. If there’ll ever be a ‘next time’, that is.

“Dee, wake up! DeeDee! CK darn it!” he shouted as he banged against one of the suite’s private room doors. He was just about to break the knob once more when it suddenly swung open, revealing a rather tall teen silhouette, one with a serious case of bed hair at that. He didn’t even give the taller boy a chance to talk as he quickly began rambling, spouting words without even breathing in between.

“Deepackyourbagsweneedtogonowmydadhehadanotheroneofthoseterrible-“

“Dude,” JD groaned, lightly squeezing the boy’s shoulders in an effort to make him relax, “I process stuff faster than most people, but even I had a hard time digesting that.” Shaking his head, he led the boy to his room, made him sit down on his bed and told him to breathe. “Now what was that you’re supposed to tell me again.”

He knew he was speaking a bit too fast still, but the change in the speedster’s expression, evident even from the dark of the night, told him that he’s got his message across. “What do I do now Dee? I can’t just leave you all alone, can I?” He told himself he’d never let another MoeMoe die. Not if he can help it.

JD simply shook his head. It was rather apparent that he was just as lost as his friend, if not more. “I-I don’t know. The helicopter, it isn’t big right? Not like the one we rode last year to Australia?”

His face brightened at JD’s words. “Planes! That’s right! Gosh Dee, you’re a genius. You really are Superman,” he said, hugging the boy and even planting a smack on his cheeks in jubilee. He was just about to explain his plan when a familiar voice rang through his head. “Dee, mind if I borrow these for a bit?” he asked as he jumped from the bed and slipped into a pair of the boy’s jeans and shirt. “I’ll be back quick.”


“You are trespassing on private grounds. Identify yourselves else we shall be forced to push you out by no means necessary.” The guard’s voice was audible even with the loud propeller noise. /No need to be anxious, my good sirs/ a voice answered, though it ringed more in their minds than in their ears, /We mean no harm. I’m Bartholomew Frederick DuRei, member of the school’s Board of Directors. We’re just here to pick a boy up, that’s all./

As the copter landed on the field, a tall man, probably in his late forties, walked out of the vehicle, greeting the baffled guards with a warm smile. “Uncle Bart!” shouted a boy, flailing his arms to get the man’s attention. “Zac! Glad you’re dressed already. But where are your bags?”

“I’m not going. At least not yet,” he said, “And don’t ask me why when you’ve already read my mind.”

The man chuckled in amusement. “The board is already meeting with Claude as we speak. You don’t have to worry about a thing Zac.” But the boy remained still.

“Hear me out Uncle. Or better yet, just read my mind.”

His uncle’s eyes widened in surprise. “Are you serious? That-that’s expensive! Not to mention tedious. Are you insane boy?”

“No. I am the next family head Uncle, I know what I’m doing. And I’m sure Dad couldn’t just let a massacre of the innocents happen.” The teen’s face changed from one of unwavering determination to utmost concern. “Please.”

“Fine. I’ll help oversee this one. But the moment I feel you’re in danger, we’re pulling you out, ok?”


It didn’t take long for the evacuation to proceed. Within hours, all the school staff were informed and briefed about the mass exodus. Classes were cancelled while the students were told to grab their bags and stay within Hammel grounds. Two helicopters were on standby, just in case. The Board even sent a meta-human security team to help facilitate the escape.

The first batch of vans appeared by midday. The youngest ones were the first to leave, with a teacher/staff on each van to ensure their safety. As expected, Zac’s uncle spared nothing at convincing the boy to leave, bugging him every half an hour or so. While it was mighty irritating at first, he’s gotten used to it.

What was surprising however was that JD stayed behind. He was expecting the speedster to leave with his brother during the evening, so he was rather shocked to see him at his dorm, munching on chips and watching TV like nothing’s really happening.

“Why are you still here?” he asked, jumping on the couch and grabbing the bowl of chips from the boy’s hands.

“And why not?”

“Josef already left like an hour ago. Pete told me they’re already on the plane.”

“So?”

“So? Shouldn’t you be with your brother right now?”

“He’s fine. I already told him to behave and stuff. He’s a good kid. And besides, I’m Superman, remember?”

He simply laughed when JD puffed himself up and tried to look, well, big. “You’re just Clark Kent, not Superman. Don’t let it get into your head.”


Though the evacuations slowed down during the night, it quickly picked up when the sun rose. In less than 24 hours, they’ve managed to evacuate around 90% of the student body, along with some expensive equipment. Things were looking up, ‘til news of an ambush reached them.

“There were more than ten of them,” Dr. Neville said, who was, for the most part, in contact with the two vans before they were attacked. “Emiko and the convoy put up a good fight. I’m barely in contact with Morgan right now. He says it’s a good thing Alex and Talen were with them; they were able to minimize the damage.” There was one casualty however: Estelle Flores was separated from the group during their escape.

It took a while but Morgan and his troupe were finally rescued, but the chaos was far from over. Despite taking a different route out of town (albeit a longer one at that), the vans still suffered ambushes here and there; it was only because they were more prepared that they were able to fend their attackers off.


By 3 in the afternoon, the school was almost deserted. Only a handful of students and staff remained. The last van was about to leave in a bit, with Zac and the others using the two helicopters to get out of town. The mimic was busy helping load stuff on the van when he felt something tug his sleeve. “Err, Zac?” a small voice said, apparently a little shy and intimidated to beat, “It’s my roommate, Robbie. He…he doesn’t want to go. He’ll wait for Estelle, he says.” He gave the boy a weak smile, told him to get on the van and he’d handle the blond.

“Robbie? It’s time to go. You’ll be on the helicopter with us since the van already left.”

“N-no. I c-can’t. Estelle. She’s out there. She’ll go here. I n-need to wait.” He growled slightly at Robbie’s stubbornness. He didn’t have time for this. And his uncle’s voice in his head isn’t helping his mood one bit too.

“Dude, I’ll handle this,” said JD, suddenly appearing at his back, “You should go down there already. Your uncle might throw a fit any time soon.”


He was just fastening his seatbelt when the first set of explosions erupted just a few kilometers from the compound, followed by a series of gunshots. He didn’t even have time to react, as his uncle immediately ordered their plane to take off, telling his staff to quickly erect a force field around them. And it couldn’t have been more prompt; just seconds after they took off, the second helicopter was blown to pieces, effectively burning the passengers alive.

“No...No…Uncle wait! They’re still down there!” he shouted, vaguely seeing JD and Robbie’s aghast face at the wreckage. He didn’t even bother hiding the stream of tears trickling down his cheeks. He pleaded and pleaded for them to come back, banging the copter door repeatedly, but to no avail; the boys are on their own now, his uncle said.

He spent the rest of the trip home in silence.

[Levi Xu]

6. Swear

"So your parents are really okay with me coming to Thanksgiving with you?" Levi was grinning broadly. It had taken all of an hour for Evan to return to the dorm after leaving for the weekend. The nervous grin he got in response made him a little worried, but he didn't believe his boyfriend would invite him to spend the holiday with his family unless it was okay.

"Kinda..." Evan hedged as he switched gears. (He'd brorrowed his brother's car, and was still a little unsure of his driving ability with it.) "I didn't tell Dad we're dating. I said you're my best friend and your family is on the other side of the country." Both of those things were true, of course, but... "I think they'll like you."

"It's fine, Van. I haven't told my family either." He reached over and gently patted the older teenager's hand, then leaned back again and looked at the dark woods flicking by. "Spider will be happy to see you again."

Yeah, and we've only got a couple more miles--" But Evan's response cut off as he turned sharply, swerving to avoid the deer that darted out in front of them.

Levi gasped, but didn't have time to scream as they went off the road. Evan slammed on the breaks, and they both jerked forward as the car stopped.

After a few seconds, while they let their heartbeats return to normal, Evan spoke. "Lev, you okay?"

"Yeah, did we hit it?"

"No."

"Good."

Evan turned off the car, then leaned over and started searching through the glovebox. "There's a flashlight... here. I'm going to go check to make sure we'ver not going to get stuck backing up."

Levi turned and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, then pulled him into a quick kiss. "Okay. Do you need any help?"

"No, I'm good. You sure you're okay?"

"I promise. I've been through scarier things than your driving."

More and more, Levi had started dropping cryptic clues about having seen things, but Evan didn't want to focus on that right now.

He went out and looked around. Luckily, he'd managed to stop the car before they'd hit any trees, and the only casualties of the accident appeared to be the bushes they'd hit. The car wasn't damaged either, so they were fine.

Shivering in the dark November evening, he quickly slid back into his seat. "Everything looks good. I don't even think we hurt the bushes, just kind of bent them a bit. And there were a lot of scratches on the car already, so David probably won't even notice. We're good."

But when he went to start the car again, it didn't.

For a full minute, as Evan got progressively more panicked, he tried to start the car. But the lights wouldn't go on, the engine wouldn't start....

They were fucked.

"Van? Why aren't we moving?"

"Fuck...I think I broke it."

The curse surprised Levi, because Van wasn't typically the kind of guy who peppered his language with them "Do you know how to fix it?"

"No. I haven't taken auto shop."

"Me either."

"Call your parents?"

"Yeah." Evan pulled out his phone and called, but true to Murphy's Law... "Um..I don't have any service. Do you?"

Levi started searching through his coat pockets, but by the time he'd moved on to the backpack by his feet, it had become clear. "I think I left it at the dorm."

They sat in the car for a few minutes, before Evan spoke again. "Let's start walking, then. It shouldn't take us more than an hour to get there."

Levi searched through his bag again, before deciding that yes, he had forgotten his gloves at the dorm as well. He did have a hat, however, so he pulled that on, zipped up his coat, and climbed out of the car. "Is David gonna kill you for this?"

"Probably." Evan shrugged, then wrapped his arm around Levi's shoulders, and they started off into the night.

***

They'd been walking for about half an hour when they saw the headlights. It took Evan a few seconds too long to drop his arm from his boyfriend's shoulders, and a few more seconds before Levi realized that it wasn't entirely appropriate to have his hand in the taller boy's back pocket.

Particularly when the car slowed to a stop, and Evan's dad rolled down the window. "Are you okay? Where's the car?"

Evan blushed and self-consciously ran his fingers through his hair. "A deer ran out in front of us. I didn't hit anything, but we went off the road and it wouldn't start again." As he spoke, he became more embarrassed, and what had started as a statement ended in a question. "So we decided to walk?"

Levi just offered a small, wave. "Hi."

Evan's father looked at them for a few seconds, then shook his head. "Get in. Let's see if we can figure out what's wrong."

Luckily, he knew how to reconnect the battery. They never did tell David why they were late.

[Ann Hudgins]

97. Flaw

She was twenty-two, she was in college with a contest scholarships and a generous donation from her parents. She lived on campus with Alex and two non-powered girls named Sara and Destiny. They all got along great in their apartment and Ann really couldn't imagine a situation better suited for her, or one where she would be happier or more at peace.

It was nearly time for Christmas break and she was just leaving their apartment for a jog around the block a few times--Alex still had an exam he needed to study for. The air was chilly but after she got a lap of the block behind her, she was all nice and warm, though the air bit at her lungs each time she took a deep breath.

There weren't too many people about, and those that were didn't pay her any notice. It was something about college she really liked. No one bothered her...no one cared about her but Alex and she didn't have any meta problems to worry about. She'd been accident free from her powers for two years, since her exit from Hammel, and she couldn't be happier about that. She didn't have to worry any more. She was in perfect control of her powers. She could even be....well...with Alex. And it was awesome--great--spectacular.

She blushed at her train of thought and came to a stop at a bench, to catch her breath and to prepare for her run back to the apartment. She had been sitting there, watching the couples mill around when someone joined her on the bench without an introduction. She was prepared to ignore them and just keep looking around, but the air was electrified with tension. Curiosity got the best of her so she turned to see who it was.

It was Zac LaRousse.

She did a double take. He looked like he'd just stepped off of a runway (because that was how he always dressed) but it was him. "What are you doing here?!" Ann demanded, eyes wide. This was so weird! Zac grinned a grin that only he could.

"I was in the area, and thought I'd give my favorite heart-stealer a visit," he said casually as he draped his arm along the back of the bench, and around her. She sighed and shook her head faintly.

"No, really. What are you doing here?" She asked, her skepticism clear in her voice. Zac frowned for a moment and then tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear--she been letting it grow out for forever and it was nearly to her waste, she kept it in tight braids most days. She didn't shy away from his tough but roll her eyes at his antics. Same old Zac.

"Was it really so hard to believe that I liked you, Ann?" Always to the root of the problem, Ann recalled fondly. She gave him a sad smile.

"It never would have worked, Zac. We were waaay too different." She shook her head and she looked around, but it would seem everyone had disappeared and it was just the two of them on the bench.

"What about now?" He tilted his head slowly and lifted her hand from her lap up to his lips. She didn't pull away but watched with a detached sense of 'whatthefuck.' She didn't smack him, like she probably should have, instead she sighed.

"No Zac. Just--" She was silenced because he kissed her. This was a blast from the past from hell. But the surprising thing here was that she didn't pull back. Actually...she kinda liked it. She shifted a little, so neither of their necks started cramping.

"See? We woulda been great together," he said, "I could have given you everything. I would have loved you, Ann. But you saw flaw in it somehow..." He started to walk away and melt at the same time. She stood and took a step towards him.

"Zac wait!" She shouted after her, then she opened her eyes. Dreaming. She had been dreaming. She looked around. Alex was still cuddled up next to her, sleeping. She rubbed her head.

What the hell was that about?

[Nathanael Lee]

56. Guide

There were times that Nate felt like it was his duty as a father--even though he technically wasn't one--to guide Kenny down the right path. Most of the time, it was just a cover to keep people from getting suspicious, like registering him for classes at the human school and grounding him when he wouldn't do his homework. There were other times when he was actually doing it for the kid's safety, like confiscating his gun and keeping it under lock and key. This was just another one of those obligations.

Plus, the look on Kenny's face would be priceless.

He cleared his throat and opened the guest bedroom door, not even bothering to knock. There was a war going on in there; he could hear it before he was halfway up the stairs and knew that Kenny wouldn't bother responding anyway. The boy didn't even acknowledge him when he walked into the room. Nathan stood next to the bed and watched him play his video game for a minute before clearing his throat again to get the kid's attention. "Kenny, I need to talk to you."

It didn't really work. Kenny's eyes stayed glued to the screen as he continued to slaughter enemies. "After this campaign," he mumbled back.

Switching to a more aggressive strategy, Nate reached over the boy's head, yanked the controller out of his hands, and hit the pause button. "No, now." Kenny crossed his arms and huffed, but didn't say anything in protest. The sooner they got this over with, the better. Nathan pulled his desk chair out and sat in it, crossing his arms in the same manner. "I know you and Oli started going out."

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you made that obvious."

"And I was thinking that your health education has been pretty spotty, at best."

"...I don't like where this is going."

Nate managed to keep a straight face, but inside he was dying of laughter. That was exactly where he was going. "And in schools, they usually don't talk about when two guys--"

"Oh my God."

"want--"

"No, Max."

"to have--"

"NO, MAX!"

"sex."

"Noooooooooo." Kenny made a dramatic display of flinging himself across the bed so he could hide his head under a pillow.

The former doctor sighed and poked him in the leg. It wasn't as fun to make him squirm when he was hiding. "Jess, listen to me."

A muffled, "No."

"Well, I was just going to talk to you about it, but if you're going to behave like this," he paused to shrug, "Maybe I should go get the diagrams."

"No! Nooo." Kenny pulled his head out of it's hole, sat up, and scowled. "I'm listening."

Nate smirked, "Good."

[Paulo Ortiz]

52. “Get lost”

He hated missions.

Mostly, what Paulo hated about his new position was that he didn't know if he could trust Gabriel. He didn't believe for a second that his new employer trusted him.

They were supposed to be tracking down a possible recruit, but the girl was making it difficult by teleporting all over the city. While Gabe was drove, the Cuban man sat next to him, running constant checks on her, narrating her every move. It was exhausting, using his power constantly, but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain about it.

"26 and A." God, he didn't even know what he was talking about any more. They'd been driving for hours. "28 and C."

Gabe took the next turn sharply. His fingers gripped the steering wheel in a death grip, and Paulo had long since given up trying to talk in English, even though he was insisting that he learn something other than Spanish. He wasn't supposed to be in this country, and being able to use a passable accent would go a long way to helping with that. "26 and C."

The other man slammed on the brakes at a red light and hit the steering wheel hard. "That's it. We're going on foot. She has to know what the car looks like." He found a parking garage, then passed his cell phone over to Paulo. "We're more suspicious together. Go. That has a GPS. I'll come find you after I get to her."

"You sure?"

"Trust me, Paulo. Go. Get lost."

And he was on his own.

***

Gabe found him in a Starbucks, drinking a large cup of coffee and pretending to read a newspaper. If it was a test, he said nothing about it.

Which probably meant he passed.

Gabriel passed too.