Late Editorial PT-5 The Deadline

Rupert had a thought, between naps, that his fellow journalists hadn’t shown up in some time. He didn’t mind, he supposed, because it meant less getting shit duty. But at the same time it was very slightly worrying. He hated the blond chick, hoped she’d get shot into space. But the kid was some kinda walking world ending mega bomb so if he fell into the wrong hands then that was bad.

He decided to bring it up to Alexander and get his expert opinion on the matter, he was better at caring about people than him at any rate. He found Alexander in his office, as per usual, holding a coffee cup in his oversized hand. He grumbled something to himself about nothing being quite his size when Rupert spoke up.

“Hey, the kid and the rubber-band ain’t checked in today, at all. Like not even a message or anything,” Rupert said casually, slouching into the chair across from Alexander. The large man in the other chair looked horrified, wow he was good at worrying.

“What?!” He shouted, he always shouted even when he whispered he seemed to shout. “What were they doing!?” He bellowed inquisitively, his small mug had been slammed into the desk shattering to pieces.

“Talking to some writer in London,” said pulling his chair back to avoid any coffee seepage that could happen. Alexander all at once bellowed something incoherent and a moment later a mousey fellow almost fell into the office he arrived in such a hurry.

“Henry!” Alex bellowed, “Did anything happen in London today I should know about!?” Henry was a delicate soul, he was pushing sixty, and all this yelling was very good at putting him off work altogether. He quibbled a bit under the other man’s stern gaze, which again for some reason Alexander had at all times.

“There was a Quantum Wrap,” he said quickly and all at once Alexander seemed to start vibrating in spot with rage. Henry left the office and Rupert rather wished he wasn’t Alexander’s best friend...because then he could leave too.

First came yelling, then a window broke and then Alexander left his cubicle office with a sword roughly the size of Rupert strapped to his back. Rupert followed the large man out with a weary look. Apparently they were going to go be good guys, shit. He’d rather hoped they’d given all that nonsense up.

“We’ll take the plane,” Alexander said simply as he made his way to the roof, “go to London, investigate the wrap which should be done by now. Speak to what’s her face, the sister.”

“I don’t know what her sister’s name is.”

“You work with her! How can you not know anything about her family!?” Alex rounded on his partner who by now was checking through some small machine gun with bored efficiency, assembling the body with a yawn.

“Because I never ask.” Rupert said wearily. Alexander just shook his head at him, sad state of affairs not being friends with your colleagues he’d always thought. He liked to know his friends and foes, he still sent the Black-Star a Christmas card every year.

“You’re such a sulk, Ru!” Alex said playfully as they reached the roof. Awaiting them was a slick black jet. The thing was fairly large looking but Rupert knew the minute they got into the cockpit the whole thing became frightfully cramped, Alex once again had the habit of making most enclosed areas very very small.

“We can only hope we aren’t too late. Have you tried messaging them!?” Alex asked suddenly thinking of this solution. Rupert nodded at once.

“No answer from them, I’m afraid.”

“Shit! I hope they’re alright.”

---

“That’s better,” Felicity said having finished her haul of takeout. The room was awash with discarded bags and containers, left as though they would dissolve into the ether without needing tended to. Grant suddenly knew why her and her sisters apartment was such a colossal dump. If they just did this all the time it was little wonder you could hardly see the floor. Grant was making a round of the room throwing out anything that needed thrown out. He glowered at his boss who was rather happily lazed out on the couch patting her still entirely svelte form.

“What?” She asked having finally noticed his glare.

“Nothing, it’s just you know, you could help me clean this up.”

“Nah, you’re the gopher, this is your job,” she flipped onto her side, “besides you’re so good at it. All three of you,” she said at last as the other two Grant’s finished up their section of the job, depositing the bags they’d filled into the garbage outside.

“We are guests you could be more polite,” Grant offered, “I’m pretty sure watching you eat all that horrified Hiro.” Felicity rolled her eyes.

“Maybe it amazed him.”

“Both.” Hiro said casually as he walked through the room dragging a large comforter with him. He’d decided to set up the spare room for guests, despite not knowing which one of them would be using the place. That could be sorted later. A thought occurred to Grant.

“Hey boss has anyone messaged or called us?”

“Nope. If they had we wouldn’t know to be fair. I destroyed our phones,” she said casually, as though talking about how sunny it was outside. Grant balked and reached into his pocket to find he was sans phone.

“When did you get my phone?”

“When you grabbed my arse,” she said causing Hiro to peek back into the room for a second, expressionless but Grant swore he was sniggering, “I liberated it and crushed it. Thought Slaughter could trail us via cell do hickeys.” Grant nodded impressed by the logic of it all, though still wishing he’d been told.

“Smart thinking,”

“There’s more to me than a smoking hot bod I’ll have you know,” she smiled genuinely, “that and I also wanted to break something then and it was either you or the phone. Take note Grant; don’t grab my arse unless I ask you to or I am VERY drunk.” Grant took out his pad and did in fact take note of this. As he did every time she said take note. Another version of Grant moved to stand in his spot, seeing as his boss had decided to keep talking, and the original went into the guest room that Hiro was setting up.

It seemed he was using his powers to do it since he was whizzing around the place in a blur. Grant knew that if he said anything right now it would just get slowed down to the point Hiro couldn’t make out what he was even saying, but would stop to see what he was trying to say.

The nature of how Hiro’s powers worked, exactly, was a little odd even to Grant. Hiro could manipulate time, but only relative to himself. He could slow down time around himself to make it seem as though he was simply moving faster, but doing that was using some sort of muscle combined with some other thing in his inner ear. Like any muscle if he used it he’d have to relax it eventually, and that would just end up speeding the time around him in a blur. For him, it was a bit of a slingshot effect, but for everyone around him, he was moving super fast and then, very suddenly, he’d stop and stare into space for a while. Depending on how long he slowed down time, it could last for hours. Being paralyzed in place for possibly large chunks of time is kind of a huge drawback when you’re fighting crime, which was probably why he was still registered as a super-civi. Of course, his dad may not have accepted that as an excuse, seeing as how he’s Deep Shadow and he doesn’t even have powers. So Hiro could be a super-civi just because he wants to be.

Like Grant had expected Hiro suddenly stopped moving for a while. He’d sat down, which was a new thing. Grant was used to Hiro just freezing in whatever position he’d stopped in. Hiro never really experienced the time that was passing while he was posed, but Grant still felt like it had to be really tiring to be stuck in uncomfortable positions for possible hours. One day Grant had discovered that Hiro could actually be moved while he was like that, so Grant used to shift him over to chairs, against walls, or just generally put him into more comfortable positions. Of course, they were kids, so sometimes he’d make Hiro do something embarrassing looking and take pictures of it before trying to make him comfortable. He never felt bad about that. Hiro would do the same to him, and he usually got a laugh out of it anyway.

Had Hiro gone to a chair just because he’d noticed Grant was there? Or was this just a new habit so that he’d look more natural while he was on pause. He had closed his eyes, so that was probably it.

It took Hiro a few minutes to open them again, but when he did he looked directly a Grant, who couldn’t maintain Hiro’s eye contact.

“Looks nice.” Grant looked around the room. Hiro stood up, but didn’t attempt to brush past Grant to leave the room, which was what Grant had expected. That made his sudden exit from the room look a bit strange. Of course, now he was too nervous to walk back in.

He’d gone in there to try to talk with Hiro, maybe put a little effort into rekindling their friendship or something, and now he was just looking like an asshole. Maybe it wasn’t worth trying? Hiro probably hated him, and had every reason to.

“You look like a sad dog.” Hiro said with an amused tone. The fact that he’d gotten more than three words out this time wasn’t terribly unusual. At least, not for the Hiro that Grant had known. Despite his stoic introduction to his boss, Hiro had always been a friendly sort of guy. He just kept the talking and the facial expressions to a minimum when they were around a lot of people. It was a result of his dad’s training, not natural inclination that made him anti-social.  

Grant smiled and looked back at Hiro. It was almost like nothing had even happened between them. If Hiro didn’t look so much older, and taller, fuck Hiro was taller than Grant was. He was sure that his friend had always been at least an inch shorter than him. Though, that could have just been Grant’s powers making him always be the taller one.

Hiro’d put on a lot of muscle too. The lean sort that olympic swimmers usually ended up with. Maybe he was training to be a hero. Grant could just ask, but he was having a hard time getting any words to come out.

“You want a beer?” Hiro walked over to Grant.

“You sure you wanna steal from your dad?” Grant asked.

“Dad doesn’t drink. I was going to get some from the gas station.” Hiro replied.

“With … your powers? Or do you have a fake ID?” Grant wondered. Hiro could pass for 21.

“Powers. I’d have to pay with an ID. Hell, I’d have to pay for the ID.” Hiro smirked. He was really going to steal beer? When the hell had this happen? He was always so black and white with his morals when they were kids!

“Man, can you really steal this stuff?” Grant asked, still trying to ascertain if it was at all his fault Hiro had started down this strange road.

“Sure. Have to time it right, but math’s my bitch.” Hiro boasted. Grant realised he was once again being vague for the express purpose of being annoying. Hiro’s shoulders slump and he placed his hand on Grant’s shoulder. “Chill out, it’s not a huge deal. I mean, villains do it all the time.” Grant’s eyes went wide as dinner plates.

“You’re a villain?” he hissed, shaking Hiro by his shoulders, dammit why was he tall now. Grant needed to buy boots with higher lifts at this rate. He was going to a get a complex.

“No, that’s lame,” Hiro said, “but I can’t argue with how easy they get by shit,” he scoffed, “If you’re a hero you maybe get a sponsor and free stuff. If you’re a villain you get free stuff.” Grant really couldn’t argue with that, being bad did seem to be a highway into getting things you wanted.

“But your father. What would he say?” Grant thought that he wouldn’t say anything but he’d do that thing where he knitted his eyebrows in such a way that made your soul freeze solid. Hiro snorted once and shrugged.

“I dunno, he probably knows. He hasn’t said anything. Like I still wanna … take over when he’s done but like … I want to do stuff my way,” he scratched at a faint fuzz around his jaw, “Get me?” Grant sort of understood. When it came to virtue Hiro’s father was kind of very, very strict. He might have been your classic DARK hero but at the same time he never did any of the murdering folk or vicious maimings that was associated with that brand of hero.

He was straight edge as could be and Hiro was always slated to take over for him, it was a legacy thing Hiro always used to say.

“So, what are you doing?” Grant asked, confused more than ever as to his friends choices.

“Whatever I want,” Hiro said simply, “I’ll do good, but I’m not going to do the whole truth, justice and the American way bit. It’s dated. … I’ll figure it out.” He shrugged and clapped Grant on the arm. “You wanna come with me?”  Grant mulled over the choice, he hadn’t seen Hiro in forever … and there was no rule saying he couldn’t.

They walked through the living room to find Grant the second still taking notes from the boss who didn’t look put off about not speaking to the original Grant. “Boss, we’re going out to steal beer.” She gave them a quick thumbs up as they walked out. She smiled down at Grant, the one with her.

“It’s so nice to see you have friends your own age,” she said with a smile, “does Grant know what you know?” the other Grant shrugged, it really did vary sometimes, “Oh well no matter. If he does hear this or he doesn’t it’s not important. Me and Rupert….okay, me and Alex are your friends even if you work for us, stop being a sulk,” she tugged on one of the other Grant’s spikes. “Also why do you grow up to be so handsome?”

---

Grant was feeling pretty nervous as they walked into the gas station. He wasn’t sure why. Hiro was really the only one taking anything, and if they got caught they both had the right sort of powers to get away from the police. Grant didn’t really consider himself to be super moral, but this just felt weird. And wrong. It had been because Hiro was the one doing it. The Hiro he knew once mailed a pencil he borrowed back to a foreign exchange student that had to suddenly move home one year.

Grant took a breath and grabbed a bag of chips (real ones, not those soggy things from England). According to Hiro, all he had to do was buy something and walk out. Hiro had already prepped up his powers so there wouldn’t be any lag when he met Grant again in the parking lot.

Still, Grant felt a little guilty, and while he followed orders as precisely as possible, he ended up overpaying for the chips. He wasn’t sure how much beer Hiro intended to take, but Grant hoped an extra twenty would cover it.

“What’s this for?” The cashier asked as Grant handed the extra money over. “You want change?”

“No. Uh. My friend came in a while back and accidentally forgot to pay for something.” Grant sort of lied. The cashier just shrugged and took the money. Grant walked out and saw Hiro waiting by a random car. He didn’t steal that too, did he?

“So?” Grant asked looking around to make sure T.H.E.M. didn’t run out from behind a car with a camera to photograph the look of horror on his face seconds before they lance his brain out. Hiro held up two crates of beer and shook them slightly with a calm look on his face.

“Nailed it, regular Danny Ocean and whoever Matt Damon played in that movie,” he placed one of the boxes atop the car he was sat on and motioned for Grant to join him. Grant did so gingerly using his powers to float minutely above the hood of the car, though his jacket seemed to hide this fact quite neatly.

“Did you steal this?” Hiro gave Grant a look that asked ‘fuck are you serious?’ “No shit of course you didn’t,” he sighed and rolled his shoulders once or twice. “Sorry, fuck.” Hiro used one of the numerous spikes about Grant’s clothes, not his hair though they could have accomplished the same feat, to pop the top from one of his beers.

“Mellow out, shit,” he sipped at his drink, “you’re acting like a spaz.” Hiro said giving Grant a quick shake. Grant took a shaky breath and scratched around one of his spikes. He popped the top from his own drink by giving it a rather stern look, a favourite trick of his.

“Did I do this to you?” Grant asked at last only for Hiro to stare at him, brown eyes narrowed to bullet points at the accusation.

“Dude.”

“No listen, did me being a shit ruin your life? Did like you fall out with your pops and turn to a life of crime? Did I-” Hiro threw beer in his face rather quickly causing Grant to stop.

“You are not the main character in my life,” he said before sipping at the little that remained in the bottle, “not everything is about you.” Grant didn’t have a reply to that other than clean off his face. Sure, it was a little self centred to think that he was the reason for the change in Hiro’s character, but he wasn’t completely out of bounds here. And this was shit he had to worry about all the time. He really didn’t want his head to blow up. Hiro cracked open another beer, but this time he used the car’s bumper. Grant opened his mouth, he felt like he needed to say something, but he never did, and they got through the first case before Hiro spoke up again.

“Dad and I are fine. He understands that I just want to explore my options before I get bogged down by our legacy. I haven’t told him how far I’m exploring, but he knows.” Hiro smirked at his empty bottle. “He’s just happy I’m still practicing my powers and keeping myself in fighting shape. He probably thinks I’m just taking a detour to the whole town protector thing.”

“Are you?” Grant wondered. Hiro took a moment to answer him.

“Dunno. Maybe. The whole thing just seems like a fat load.” Hiro opened another beer. “I wanna help people because I want to, not because T.H.E.M. says I have to. You know?” Grant knew all about having T.H.E.M. make you do things.

“Yeah.” Grant swallowed. “So it really wasn’t me?” He hated being this self centered, but he had to be sure. Hiro let out an annoyed sigh.

“I realized the whole hero thing was bullshit nearly a whole year after T.H.E.M. took you. I asked Dad what it is they’d do to you so he brought me to their H.Q. and got me a tour. He’s a big deal, so, it wasn’t one of those B.S. school tours like we had in middle school where they just let walked us around the lobby and had a big name hero tell us to be good kids.”

Grant nodded at that, he remembered the school tours of a normal looking building on street level, full of pictures of old members of T.H.E.M. and heroes and villains past shaking hands and being buddy buddy. But he’d seen behind the lovely bleed curtain, he’d seen behind doors that people ought not see behind.

They had dragged him somewhere strange and unreal. Some place that wasn’t anywhere on Earth, he couldn’t hear the information streams he normally did when he was on world in their building. He couldn’t hear secrets about buildings, he couldn’t learn about the people, he was locked out of his own mind. He just got quiet and the sounds of steel.

They strung him up in irons, long chains made from steel not of his Earth. Suspended him in the air and asked him things. Then at some point they told him he’d broken a lot of rules, he’d been villainous without registering...he’d altered the thoughts of a civie without doing the work for it. Jesus they cared more about him not doing paperwork than they did him brainwashing a girl.

They told him it was unprofessional and he had to learn the way of things. So they gave him a choice, parole with a new up and coming group of people who wanted to learn the truth of the world...a temporary hero license with villain privilege if needs came or...they’d lock him away with something they called “the Tallymen” and he really didn’t like how that sounded.

He chose the former...who wouldn’t? Then they put a bomb in his head.

Grant drank his beer, he shuddered slightly, he was still so sure he could see a bump on his head where the bomb was. He swore he could see it somedays, others he swore he could hear it.

---

MAX was quite certain that today was bullshit. He’d scooped up the book and he’d been warping all over, the Dogs nuclear teleportation engine was singing out through the Geiger counter. Telling him to slow down unless he wanted to make a hole in the side of the planet, which he did...but only after the job was finished.

He’d wound up on some beach somewhere and was having himself a cone as he was berated over the phone.

“How the fuck are you even a person?” The voice yelled, “You are a miracle advertisement for condom use you glorious fuck up. TWO people, TWO FUCKING people, how can’t you manage that?”

MAX did not like how this voice was talking to him, he was the head poobah of murder, he knew what he was doing. Snots had just gotten lucky.

“I should have called the Jacks, those people might be vicious, sadistic fucks who jack off to murder but at least they don’t mess up so gloriously as you.” The voice growled over the line.

“Don’t you fuck-”

“DON'T YOU FUCKING TALK,” the voice rang out and suddenly MAX decided he shouldn’t talk. The little primal part of man’s brain that runs fight or flight started ringing out for flight. “You have six seconds to tell me something good or I swear…” the voice took a deep breath and started to count, fag….MAX thought very quietly to himself.

“Look there’s one place left to warp to, kid has to be there. HAS to be. Put up another wrap, just the street, I got them this time I promise.” MAX didn’t like that he had to weed to this voice but he had the feeling he needed to...if only to get paid. The voice stopped talking after that response. MAX fired up the nuclear reactor that let The Dog teleport, and warped his way to the new target area.

He didn’t really notice the future version of Grant that was standing a few feet away drinking something tasty out of a coconut and rolling his eyes.

---

Grant had to hang off of Hiro to keep his steps steady as they made their way back to his house. Hiro had decided to take something stronger from the gas station, a comically long bottle of tequila, and the two of them had tackled it like champs. Of course, Hiro seemed to have more experience drinking that heavy than Grant, so he was handling the problem of walking in a straight line much more gracefully.

“You shoulda just let me teleport.” Grant grumbled. Hiro let out a snorty sort of laugh.

“I’d rather not be trying to dig you out of my sidewalk when you miss.” Hiro replied.

“Tch, I wouldn’ miss.” Grant rolled his eyes. “An’ I still won the bottle.” Grant held up the empty bottle that Hiro had declared would be the prize for the person who could drink their share the fastest.

“You sure did, buddy.” Hiro held back another laugh. Were Grant more capable of being suspicious at the moment, that response would have seemed very much so. He did, however, wonder what Hiro was thinking at the moment. He needed to be careful, however, if he wondered too much he may accidentally plunk into Hiro’s mind, and then his head would explode. He really really didn’t want his head to explode.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about or my head might explode.” Grant explained. Hiro stopped walking for a second just to soak that in.

“Uh. I was thinking that you’re heavy as fuck.” Hiro answered.

“Then use your time powers to get us home faster.”

“I don’t use my powers when I’m drunk. I have to keep things precise sometimes or I pop holes in time. Or something. I’ve only ever really done it once. Was a big problem, holes in time space,” he looked off to one side, hazily, “maybe, I dunno. Might just make a hole in me.” Hiro stopped dead after shuffling two feet. “Wait you can like think shit and it happens can’t you just sober up all at once?”

“I’ve been sober this whole time,” Grant said, having just regained sobriety, “I just wanted to see if I could get your dumbass to carry me back.” Grant gave Hiro a toothy grin before standing up straight and breaking into a sprint as his friend chased after him, Grant was quite certain he couldn’t outrun a sober Hiro, even if he didn’t use his powers.

But thankfully Hiro was half drunk and Grant could make sure he never got winded while running now, a trick that would have been useful as a child. He ran up the street waving back at Hiro, who yelled some fairly hurtful things that best friends- they were best friends again, right?- ought not to yell at each other. Then he thought he heard a slight ringing, he slapped at his ear, nothing there.

He held still in the street and turned to Hiro, “Can you hea,” Hiro barreled into him. People seemed to love tackling him today, what the fuck. Hiro was using his powers as well, Grant saw the world blur in his vision, and everything was going by faster than it should. A tank landed where he’d been standing and slowly, painfully, the turret pivoted toward them. Grant reeled and tugged on Hiro’s right ear as if to say, THAT WAY, thankfully with his speed up Hiro picked up on it the second is fingertip brushed his ear and curved in the street, leaving a harsh skid along the street as he turned.

He bolted in the new direction, dodging over a fence as though it wasn’t even there. The sidewalk at their original location exploded into a pit of fire. Grant thought he should try to warp, that’s when the bells rang out again. The sound of a hammer hitting steel deafened him and he went limp in Hiro’s arms. Crap, this again. His vision vanished and then came back with a jolt of pain, Hiro fell and so did he, rolling across something soft. He hit a wall and looked up blearily into the face of his boss.

“Fuck, I think Max found us,” she muttered standing in the doorway, rolling her shoulders. Oh shit...boss needed help...Grant thought as he tried to stand, collapsing onto the ground for his efforts.

A grenade sailed in through a window and his boss plucked it from the air as though it was a baseball and threw it out the door, a whip crack sound highlighting her speed. She looked back at the boys balled on the ground and Grant swore he could see her warring with herself, she was thinking of running, leaving him behind to die. But she wasn’t doing it. God he loved his boss right now, he really did. But how long could she last?

Hiro hadn’t had a chance to prep himself before running, so he was completely still on the ground, and given how fast they went, it could last a while. His face was fairly close to Hiro’s, which is probably the only reason he would have been able to see this, and why he even remember how Hiro’s eyes were supposed to look, he wasn’t sure, but something was weird about them right now. They were more than glazed over somehow. He didn’t really have much time to think about it though. He needed to get up and help his boss before she did decide to ditch them.

Grant attempted getting up again, but his head was swimming too much to let him make it without throwing up on Hiro’s dad’s shag carpet.

Another grenade launched in and once again his boss caught it in one hand, she stared at it with scorn and yelled out into the night, “You bitch! Get over here and fight like a man, grenades are for wimps!” As if to demonstrate that grenades were for wimps she tossed the thing into her mouth and swallowed.

He was about to question this when, following a muffled booming sound his boss expanded slightly before returning to normal. She exhaled a thick cloud of smoke and patted her stomach. Grant thanked god his boss was on his side. He saw the tank outside and the man standing atop it with a grenade launcher. He threw the thing down the street and hopped off the tank, apparently his boss had goaded him into a fight. Grant checked on Hiro and found he couldn’t see him anymore.

“Hey,” Grant turned his head slightly and saw that the other him he’d left with his boss was dragging Hiro into another room. He was seemingly unaffected by whatever got him into this state.

“MAX, how you doing?” His boss asked as she kicked off her heeled shoes, she rolled her shoulders clearly getting ready for a fight. MAX just smiled at that, a big horrid grin splitting his ugly battle scarred face. He loaded some kind of rifle and shouldered it, aiming down the sights at the woman in the doorway. He squeezed the trigger and fired.

A stream of bullets slapped into Felicity and she took a step back, feigning injury before stamping forward. The bullets shot back across the yard toward MAX who leapt to the side quickly, dodging the brunt of the attack. A single bullet scored home, striking his thigh causing him to dip into a roll. “FUCKING COW,” he snapped, “NOBODY MAKES ME SHOOT MYSELF,” he pulled out a small brick shaped gun, a stocky grey thing.

He slapped one end of it and a tiny flame appeared at the mouth of the gun, Felicity’s eyes went wide and she dove to the side. A thick gout of flame erupted toward the house and all at once Grant’s eyes glazed over. Shit he was going to die. An arm snapped around his waist, oh god he was in love right now, as his boss dragged him across the room. Fire licking at his heels as he went, he collided with his boss. Her body cushioned his impact and all at once he noticed her arm had liquified against his shirt giving it some kind of trippy tie dye look to it.

“Shit,” she hissed, “shit,” she tried to reform her arm, which slowly ran off his shirt awkwardly trying to reform. She bit down on her lower lip and favoured Grant with a look, why did she have to grow a conscious all of a sudden? Oh right because she his friend and there was the potential of a future hot sexing in the lad...it was mostly for the latter...she told herself. Stupid people she likes.

“I’M GOING TO RIP OUT YOUR HEART, EAT IT, THEN SHIT IT BACK IN THROUGH YOUR NECK!” MAX yelled over the constantly spewing fire. He was barrelling towards them, and through the holes he was burning into the things in his way. Hiro’s dad was going to be so pissed.

“You might want to stop being useless soon.” Felicity said to Grant, her voice sounded pretty strained. She also seemed to be barely holding herself together. Seeing as he was still on the floor, Felicity rolled Grant into the guest room, and then put herself in the doorway. She smirked and rolled her head around her neck as though she meant to crack bones. Of course, she didn’t have any, and she rolled her head a little too far around, so it just looked creepy.

It was by pure luck that the fire ran out right as it started to lick her skin. MAX pulled the trigger a few more times, and it made some clicks, but nothing came out. Felicity took her chance to punch Sgt. Slaughter in the crotch. By her smug smile it was obvious she’d expected him to fold like an origami crane. However, he didn’t. He even laughed instead. Then he cracked his own punch into her stomach.

Felicity stretched with the blow and started to wrap herself around his arm. He responds to this was to clench his fist causing spikes to shoot out of the arm of his jacket impaling her and, effectively, causing her to be stuck in place. He then smashed her against the wall a few times. His laughter didn’t stop, and Grant tried to do something. Really anything. Maybe teleport something above the man’s head to distract him. But he couldn’t concentrate hard enough, he couldn’t hear the world well enough, and then, very suddenly, something long and sharp jutted out of Sgt. Slaughter’s chest.

He didn’t scream out in pain, but he was surprised. He stopped slamming Felicity into the wall, which gave her a chance to tear herself off his spikes and melt into goop on the floor. At first, Grant thought that maybe Hiro’s dad had come home, but Hiro was the one pulling the blade out of MAX’s back. He still had that glazed look, and from how fast he’d gone, he probably should have still be down for the count, but there he was, being tackled into a nice lamp by Sgt. Slaughter.

Well if Hiro could unfuck himself, then Grant certainly could. He managed to push himself to his feet. If he couldn’t use his powers to protect himself then his fists would have to do.

Grant felt a little like a bad ass managing to fight through the ringing and the nausea to make his way to Slaughter. Hiro wasn’t doing too terribly with the sword in his hand, but Slaughter was just taking every slice and stab he made with gusto. Grant hoped that, if he managed to hit the large man over the head with the half of a table he managed to pick up, that would do something, and it did. It pissed him off more.

At least now his attention was divided. Slaughter eyed them up the hole in his chest not seeming to bother him in the slightest, which was upsetting. Hiro edged his way to Grant’s side dragging the sword across the carpet more for support than anything else.

“I hope this guy kills us, cause my dad will be mad pissed when he sees the carpet,” Hiro said with a quiet laugh. Apparently the snappy quip bug had jumped to him. Grant held a table leg in one hand and did his best to fight back to feelings of intense brain numbing agony that ran through him.

“OKAY, I’M GONNA USE THE SPIKE ONE TO GOUGE OUT YOUR EYES, THEN I’M GONNA SCOOP UP THE BROAD AND MAKE YOU DRIN,” a vase cracked over his head. Everyone stopped unsure of who did that. MAX turned around to find another Grant standing there with shards of broken case in hand. He smiled, so did MAX. Max wound up his fist and let fly knocking the other Grant’s head clean off his shoulders with one might straight. The head flew off down the hall and landed somewhere with a loud meaty slap. The body tumbled to one side and started spurting viscera onto the wall.

“WHERE WAS,” Hiro stabbed him in the shoulder causing the large man to wail, “WILL YOU LITTLE SHITS LET ME FINI,” Grant smacked him in the face with the table leg. He was entirely surprised to find he couldn’t pull the leg free and then he grimaced, there were apparently nails in the leg that were not digging into MAX’s cheek clear through into his mouth. When the man screamed in rage Grant could see the nails scraping along his upper gum, clearly having destroyed two teeth on its journey.

Grant felt sicker now than he had when the bells tolled out again. Hiro wrenched the sword free only to catch the back of a hand across his face. Grant kicked wildly at the large man’s stomach hoping to stun him so he could get his weapon free. Sadly the man must have been wearing padding as his hits did next to nothing. He was plucked from the ground and hurtled against the back wall.

Grant bit down on his tongue as he landed, he tried to get up only to catch a foot to the stomach. He was lifted a full foot from the ground before a swift punch to the back of the head brought him back down. He couldn’t hear the bells anymore at least, but he was certain he was going into shock. He dragged himself forward, noticing a thin shard of glass in the carpet, maybe he could get to it and...do something. He had no idea. He was rather hoping boss would be back on her feet by now and drilling a hole into the guy.

A blur started to swirl around Slaughter. Hiro must have been using his powers to get in some blows. There was no way he’d had time to prep for that so he’d be down again as soon as it was over. Grant had to be ready to get him out of the way. There was no time to slip too deep into shock.

Slaughter flicked his arm around like he was trying to wave off an annoying fly and Hiro got in one stab after another. Why the FUCK wasn’t this man going down? Or at LEAST screaming in pain? When Hiro suddenly stopped Grant tried to move over to him, but to his surprise Hiro was actually still moving. He wasn’t moving very quickly, but he was forcing himself to deliver as many hits as he possibly could. This, unfortunately, made him a very easy target for the large handgun that was whipped out of Slaughter’s belt and into Hiro’s face.

MAX had a huge shit eating grin on, and Grant did his best to attempt to pull Hiro out of the way of potential gunfire, but Hiro was had to pull, and also smiling. Apparently he had one last burst of speed in him, because he snapped his arm up and bent Slaughter’s arm at the elbow causing him to shoot himself in the face. The same side that had nails ripped through was now Swiss cheesed with bullets. Sgt. MAX Slaughter still wasn’t down. This mother fucker was immortal.

Hiro was much easier to move now that his body was limp. Grant couldn’t quite tell if he was stuck in slowed time or unconscious from all the effort. Either way he needed to man up and get Hiro somewhere safe.

He looked up to see Slaughter aiming the large handgun at him. The remaining half of his face twisted in a mad smile. Behind Slaughter Felicity stretched up and over the top of his head. She wasn’t really in a human form, but the blob of her just melted all over him, seeping into his eyes, through his shredded nose, and down his exposed throat. She was going to drown him with herself.

Grant didn’t know how he felt about that.

It also didn’t appear to be working like she’d probably expected. While the drowning did stagger him some, he was still firing shots at the currently fleeing Grant.He reached Hiro just as the pistol chamber clicked empty, staggering drunk on his feet. He began to slap the empty pistol against his face which made a sick suckering sound which unfortunately reminded Grant of old silly putty tubs. Oh god that was an image.

He flailed for his belt and pulled out the brick shaped flame thrower, Grant’s eyes went wide. Oh god there was no way would turn that on himself. The end sparked up and he heard his boss shout through runny lips.

“Oh fuck.” She tore herself in half, a hand materialising for an instant shaping into a thin blade which she used to bisect herself before shooting from MAX’s head and rolling into a ball coming to a rest at Grant’s feet. He looked over at MAX who did infact turn the gun on himself. The fire licked over his head and coated him up to his shoulders in a thick angry red gout of fire.

“That sick freak,” Felicity bubbled, only her head had made it out of the attack. “Grant we really need to run, it’ll take me at least a half hour to regenerate, just stash me under something and leg it. Grab Hiro and bolt.” She said desperately as watched MAX flop against the wall. The goop that was most of his boss was running down his neck. His skin had charred a charcoal black and his teeth glinted brightly against his mad broken face. Grant had managed to crawl all of three feet, pulling Hiro with him as he went. He was close to tears now, this was it, and he was going to die. He’d brought his best friend back into this and now he was going to die, so was his boss probably. Oh god why was he such a fuck up?

Grant closed his eyes as Slaughter walked over to them. He waited for the killing blow, but instead he heard a lot of struggling. He opened one eye, that a tear quickly escaped from, and realized that Slaughter wasn’t even standing by them. He was past them and outside the house. He also wasn’t standing.

Grant hadn’t really seen much of Hiro’s dad in the past. Hiro was always going over to his house rather than vice versa, but he knew this guy in khaki shorts and bright red Hawaiian shirt had to be him. He looked too much like Hiro. If Hiro was in his late forties, anyway.

Hiro’s dad pulled some black zip ties from nowhere and used them to bind Sgt. Slaughter’s hands and ankles. Grant couldn’t believe that Slaughter was even unconscious. Of course, he should have been unconscious way before now. What had Hiro’s dad done that had him down that fast?

Grant considered asking, but his mouth clamped shut when the man’s cold blank stare settled onto him. Hiro’s dad was the one that called T.H.E.M. and how he was seeing his destroyed home with his unconscious son at Grant’s feet and along with some woman’s melty head. Somehow, even though he wasn’t afraid of dying, he was still bitterly afraid.

Hiro’s dad walked up to him slowly. He didn’t say a word, his face showed nothing, and he stared. It was like the man was examining Grant’s soul through his eyes and judging his worth. Then a little black spray canister showed up in his hand out of nowhere. He took Grant’s wrist and pushed one spot on it lightly with his thumb which forced his hand to open. Then he put the canister in it. He pointed at Slaughter in the yard and bent down to pick up his son. Grant assumed that meant “if he gets up you spray that down his fucking throat hole”, so Grant nodded and rushed over to keep an eye on Slaughter.

Grant hovered around the prone body holding the canister with extreme gusto. Hiro’s father walked out of the house carrying his son and laid him down along the lawn before departing back inside. Grant wanted to check on Hiro but he was also acutely aware that if he left MAX’s side the monster would get up out of spite and rip his spine out, he’d seen enough slasher flicks to know how this worked.

“No I don’t stain, in case you’re curious,” he heard his boss talking, “rather useful that, average carpet cleaning and you won’t even know I was there,” his boss’s head was placed at his side and Grant shuddered lightly, this was really strange. She looked up at him and winked once. “Hey kid, good job in there. Nice going for your second hero fight ever, this will make a fucking tits awesome article in the Sentinel.”

“We almost all died!” Grant wheezed, his lungs still on fire from all the exertion, she only rolled her eyes at him.

“You always almost die in these things, but you didn’t die and you beat up a bad guy,” she said happily, “so did your buddy. I mean I did most of the work but partial credit to you munchkins,” amazing, even as a head with a slowly growing neck stump she sounded confident as hell. “I am gonna buy you the issue this is in so you can frame it, cause when we write a report we’ll have to be honest about how much we got our arses kicked.” Grant laughed a little at that, it was true.