4.7: Coming to an Understanding
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
Did you really have to answer this? What's wrong with just calling it a day? All Father and Rain are right there. All they had to do was take them into custody and get whatever info on the Empire that they can give.
The fighting was over, there's nothing left that can hurt them.
Yet she's asking you why?
"He helped."
The man grins from ear to ear even as Rebecca's line somehow looks angrier. You feel a pang of guilt, but you can't bring yourself to let it stop you.
"There was a lot of people in here, he fought them off so I could-"
"Get shot," Fancy points out.
You try not to let the wince show, even as you get closer, taking a spot next to Rebecca. The fancy man shrugs in her grip, "Not that I did much better."
Following his gaze, you see his right leg hanging in the air, a nasty purple and red surrounding his knee. Injured as he was, it doesn't stop Rebecca from pushing him harder against the wall.
Or you from putting a hand on her shoulder.
Her face doesn't move, but you can feel her stiffen at your touch.
"We can at least hear him out."
It was the least you could do. You got out of this, but who knows what might've happened if he wasn't distracting everyone. Rebecca's fingers strained against her glove, and she shakes her head.
"Atlas," she warns.
"I'm only hearing him out," you clarify, "Anything else, we'll decide later."
With her hand on his neck, Rebecca's face a stone cold line. Nothing moves, nothing even breathes.
A blink later and it's gone. She drops Fancy, leaving the man to land on only one good leg. You can barely land well with two, but apparently, no one remembered to tell Fancy what should happen. He falls on his right leg, giving it a few experimental hops while he dusted off his clothes.
Rebecca scowls and gestures him forward.
"Out with it."
Fancy rubs his neck, "A little tight don't you think?"
"I was barely touching you," Rebecca comments.
If the fact scared Fancy, he definitely didn't let it show. He chuckled good-naturedly, loosening his shirt.
"Oh I have no doubt about that," he held out his hand, "but I'm being terribly rude to my allies. I'm Marquis, and I already know you two."
"Then drop the hand before I break your wrist again."
His smile falters, a bead of sweat running down his neck. He grimaces and settles back, but you look to Rebecca. Again? The only part of him with anything you could see was his leg. A healing power maybe? Whatever it is, Marquis clears his throat and flourishes his fingers on the way to his pockets.
"Happy?" he asks, daring Rebecca to argue.
Her arm tightens and you shake your hand. She gets the message instantly. Stepping back and letting you ask the questions.
"You said you had an offer?"
Marquis' annoying grin slides back onto his face.
"Well, I'm glad you asked. As you can tell, I am a connoisseur of… less than pleasant company, as it were."
"So are we," you say, Rebecca nodding in the corner of your eye.
After two months of fighting the Musicians, dealing with Doctor Mother, Symphony and tonight, you've gotten as close to these people as you ever want to. Not that he needed to know the exact time, but you get the feeling the less that you say about that, the better.
But Marquis shrugs dismissively.
"Now I have no doubt about that, but from what I hear, you're the type to look down on said company from above. Or in other cases," he eyes Rebecca, "You break them faster than they can blink."
A wave blips over Rebecca's lips, a gasp you could barely catch. Break them, what is he talking about? You look at her, but your friend is still as stone without making a single wave.
"I give them a chance to surrender," she says curtly.
Marquis' eyebrow rises, "Really?"
"Yes, really." you stress, "Everyone gets a chance."
Marquis whistles, and looks around. His eyes cover the fallen forms of All Father and Rain, and the broken silhouettes bashed into the walls. Marquis holds his hands placatingly, and you feel the waves gather around your hand. He doesn't get to use this. You gave them a chance, you practically begged. It shouldn't have happened, and you're only sad that it did.
Not that he cares.
"Clearly you're right, far be it from me to insinuate anything, I'm getting off track."
"Figured that out on your own?" Rebecca asks.
You hold back a snort. Surprisingly though, Marquis doesn't. He tips an imaginary hat at you and your friend.
"The news stories don't give either of you justice. I was expecting a big speech, but this makes it far easier to ask if I could join your little group."
That's… not what you were expecting at all.
You blink once, you heard that right, right? Him, the man who ripped out someone's throat without a second thought, wanted to join you? You glance at Rebecca, and she looks lost for words.
"You want....to join.... us?" Rebecca asks.
"In a manner of speaking," Marquis clarifies, "Obviously people with your reputation wouldn't want things to be sullied having someone like me within your ranks. After all, unlike you, it wasn't luck that brought me here in the first place."
He claps his hands together, but his grin takes on a cruel sheen.
"I'll be your eyes and ears within Brockton. If any of All Father's more zealous followers attempt to pick up where he left off, I'll be the first to know and the first to stop them. And if I can't, you'll be the first to hear me admit it. In return, I walk out of this…" he casts an eye around and shivers, "dreadful casino with the Police being none the wiser."
You share another look with Rebecca. Cause that's it? That's all he wanted, a chance to… be the inside guy? Stay in the middle of a gang war, just so he could have your phone number and walk out of here?
That feels… way to easy.
"That's it?" You ask.
"What else do I need?" Marquis asks, "Money isn't an issue, and All Father is going to be spending the rest of his days in a cell. With you Founders cleaning up Symphony's mess, I can keep this little corner of paradise all to myself."
"You've got some strange tastes," Rebecca says.
Marquis spreads his arms wide, "Welcome to Brockton Bay Alexandria, we breathe crazy around here."
"I'm not arguing that." she deadpans.
"As you shouldn't, but you must answer this. Do we have a deal?
You glance down at All Father and his daughter, the two who were this close to making a superhuman Nazi empire. Even if you took care of it, there are bigger problems that you need to deal with. Having a guy on the inside keeping tabs on things… that's a good thing no matter how you slice it.
On the other hand, you don't trust this guy to hold open the door, much less be a spy for you without some ulterior motive. Short answer, he just wants to get out of here after watching the Empire get decimated by the three of you in ten minutes. On the other hand… you've got no idea, but you know there's got to be something else he could gain from this. You've got no clue what it is, but it's there.
Thankfully, there's someone infinitely smarter than you right behind you.
The second you look back, Rebecca nods, moving to the side. You raise an eyebrow, was she sure? She nods again, and you step out of the way. Marquis hid any surprise well, smiling in victory.
You give his hand a firm shake stepping to the side.
"Kind of you."
"Just get out of here before the police get in," you say.
Marquis looks surprised as if the idea hadn't crossed his mind. He straightens his collar and snaps his fingers.
"Speaking of the police, don't ask how it reminded me, but how will you contact me?"
"Someone will get to you," Rebecca says.
Really? Who? Then you remember Contessa and the doors. Yeah, shouldn't be too hard with those two working together. Marquis whistles and the waves show the shiver that goes down his leg.
"Then pleasure doing business with you," he tips a hat that isn't there. His limp is painful to watch, but even so, he gets to David. Eidolon looks to you, and you wave him aside. David snorts something, but stands to the side, leaving Marquis to saunter out of the broken casino.
"Do I get to know what that was all about?" David asks, jabbing at the exit.
You rub your head, "He's an..."
"Investment." Rebecca finishes.
You grimace, not precisely what you would call it. You get the feeling that David agrees with you from the sound of his huff.
"Thanks for inviting me to the conversation."
"Sorry," you say, "But-"
"You were working," Rebecca points out.
"I was going to say that it happened too fast," you argue.
"It wasn't," Rebecca clips.
Without a word, she picks up All Father and Rain and throws them over her shoulders like sacks of flour. You know she's strong, but seeing Rebecca throw two bigger people over her shoulder is still a sight to behold.
"Door."
A flash and a green door appears in the wall. Rebecca kicks it open as softly as she can, revealing what looks like a prison block. Must be the cells that Contessa mentioned a while back. Hearing them is one thing, seeing them though…
Cauldron didn't do anything halfway did it?
Every single room looked like something out of Terminator. Monitors over every lock, blue light over every bed. There wasn't even a bathroom, just a section of the wall that looks like it pops out. None of them were filled, but Rebecca looked ready to change that.
"You two can handle the rest," Rebecca says, "I'll be readying these two for an extensive stay."
"You need help with that?"
Rebecca stiffens, at least you think she does. The door's giving the room a breeze, sending flashes of waves all over the place. A few spring off of Rebecca, but for the life of you, you can't tell if she made them.
"I'll ask for help if I need it. Try not to get hurt in the meantime."
You flinch, that's cruel. You were only trying to help Number Man, you didn't know what you were getting into. That's not an excuse, and it's sad to say that's all that you have. The door blinks out, and Rebecca and her passengers are gone.
Suddenly, you're tired. Of today, of powers, of complicated shit in general.
"Do you want a drink?"
You blink, rounding on David.
"What?"
"Drinks," David repeats, "I could go for one after all this, and you're coming."
You want to argue. Because honestly, you're really not in the mood to be your father for an afternoon. Not that you'll ever want to be like him. You take one step away, and David's eyes start glowing.
"Er, sure," you say quickly, "Where?"
The glow fades away, and you even with the mask covering it up, you know he's smirking. Jerk.
"Local place, nothing too far."
Turns out, David wasn't kidding. After talking to the police and handing over the empire loyalist, you flew out of sight long enough for David to charge another power. With a wave of his hand, the two of you were in civilian clothes with wallets in pockets filled with ID's that you don't remember having.
Last time you checked you were 18, not 22.
David didn't seem to care and strode out of the alleyway that you changed in like he owned the city. You follow him for a few minutes, making only two blocks before David turns into a small bar at the edge of the district. The Fat Angel, lovely name.
Inside the denizens of Brockton Bay that are in were absorbed with the news story dominating the station. The Headline, "Founders Arrive in the Bay" is displayed in full view. The tv's muted, but it didn't stop most of the bar's patrons from looking on in equal parts amazement and concern. David ignores all of it and takes a spot in the far booth. He snaps his fingers, and something happens around the booth. A power of his, what it does you have no clue, but he gestures at the open seat. You take the offered spot, and an older woman walks over. She flips through a notepad and waits.
"A Boston Lager." David orders.
She glances at you and you shrug.
"Water's fine."
She rolls her eyes at that, but writes it down and hurries to the bar. David chuckles, "Don't like drinking?"
You shake your head, "Don't see the point."
You try not to let annoyance slip into your tone. You fail. David shrugs it off like it didn't affect him.
"I don't either, I'm just trying to see what the fuss is about."
You blink, "Didn't you say you wanted a drink?"
David shrugs again, "It's my twenty-first, I'm finally allowed, no harm in trying."
His twenty-first?
"It's your birthday?" you ask.
"Sure is," he says, boredom practically leaking off every word.
"Oh…" you trail off.
You had no idea. You've worked with him for over two months, but you don't even know his birthday? Hell, you don't know Charles or Matthew's birthday either. Despite your admittance, David rolls his eyes.
"Don't worry about it, I didn't look for yours either."
"Great," you say, shoulders slumping.
The waitress returned, putting the pint glass in front of David and the smaller glass of water in front of you. You take the glass and give a long drink. It goes a lot better than David's attempt. The man sputters, and coughs as the liquid goes down. He holds the glass at arm's length, a look of betrayal flashing over him.
"How the hell do people drink this stuff?"
"You drink more," you say.
David blinks and shrugs, "Sound advice," he says, taking another, smaller sip.
"My dad was a bartender" you explain, "I got plenty of experience with what it does with him around."
Clint nearly started, but the man smashed the bottle before your brother could get the chance. It was the first time that he looked impressed at what Dad did. Though, it didn't last long as the stain sent Danah into a fit a few minutes later.
"Sounds tough," David says.
You wave it off, "It's nothing special. You probably have your own sob story."
"You're right, and I'm positive you don't have shit on me," David takes another sip, grimacing at the taste.
Well, alright then. You shift in your seat, tapping your glass.
"So…" you start, "Are we here to talk about it?"
David nearly chokes on his next sip. When he can breathe again, he shoots a puzzled look.
"It?"
"The shit you were talking about," You answer, "Isn't that why we're here?"
David blinks and looks at you like you started growing a second head.
"Why would I want to talk about that?"
"I don't know," you admit, "I'm still trying to figure out why the hell we're here."
David stares at you for a few seconds before running a hand through his hair.
"Unbelievable," he mutters.
"What?"
He looks at you like the answer should be obvious. But it isn't because you've got no clue. The most powerful man you know rolls his eyes again, but there isn't any annoyance in them. Just disappointment, but he's not looking at you.
"You're the one that wanted me to be better. Here's my go at it."
Being better, what is he talking about? Then it hits you.
"Is this about that mentor thing? I haven't thought about it for months."
"Really?" David asks, genuinely surprised before slipping back to disappointment, "Then I've been doing a pretty shit job."
"We've been busy," you say in his defense.
Which is strange enough by the way. You're defending David of all people, the guy that can blow up a country if he wanted to, the same guy who threw you into the dirt when you first met. From the look on his face, he's just as surprised as you.
"Busy," David repeats, "Weird way to say fumbling around but whatever."
"We're following the plan," you say.
"Who said anything about the plan? I'm talking about me." David says.
He goes in for another drink while you're left wondering what he's going on about. He taps against the table, face contorting as he stares at the empty glass in front of him.
"Look, I'll be honest, I don't like you."
"I got that," you say flatly.
"You're an emotional teenager with gravity powers and frankly, you always getting your way pisses me off," he continues.
"Thanks," you grunt.
"You stick your nose in other people's business, and you don't stop until you helped them."
"I get it," you say, cutting him and off bashing the table, "I'm annoying."
He actually smiles at that, "Took the word right out of my mouth."
"Glad I could help," you drawl.
David rolls his eyes, swirling his finger around the edge of the cup. Maybe he's trying to make it ring. It doesn't, and you're left with silence for a few seconds. One more long gulp and David's halfway through his pint. He shivers at the taste, and you roll your eyes as you down the rest of your water. After all the work that you've put in, you need this.
"So what did you do to piss off Rebecca?"
You sigh, running a hand through your hair.
"I think it's because I got hurt."
Thinking back, she looked ready to kick you off the roof before she saw your shoulder.
"Yeah, you did look like shit," David says taking a drink.
Your eye twitches and you groan.
"You know for a guy with a thousand powers, you are terrible at small talk."
David grips his glass a little too tight even as he starts rubbing his forehead.
"And yet I brought you along."
"Only because I'm the only one who will listen to you," you throw out.
It's a joke. You expect a scoff, a laugh. Instead, David sets his hands down and stares down at his drink.
"... huh, that obvious?"
You… you don't know how to respond to that. All you can do is watch as David does your old man proud and finishes off his beer with a long take. He puts the glass down and shakes the buzz. He tries at least, but you can't throw out what alcohol does to you. And this guy in front of you, a demigod that can bring down mountains, is blushing after only one drink.
You chuckle, you were afraid of this guy? Geeze, you really are an idiot.
You flag down the waitress, "Two glasses of water please."
She nods and heads off. David glances up from his mini stupor.
"Stay hydrated, it'll help with the hangovers."
David... doesn't look like he knows what to do with that.
"Is that really all it takes?" he asks.
You purse your lips. Water, food, those helped more than most gave it credit for.
"It helps."
David looks at you quizzically, but as the waitress returns, he doesn't hesitate to take a long drink of water. When he stops he grimaces.
"I'm following your advice… what is this world coming to?"
"No clue," you admit.
David laughs, "Don't let anyone hear you say that. Might wonder what the hell you're thinking."
You bark out a laugh, "And you think I know what I'm doing?"
David spits out the water, and you can't help yourself. David, the guy with any power, is choking on a drink. Stupid? Definitely. Immature, certainly, but right now you don't care. The sight of him cleaning the shit off his chin is enough to get you going. Soon enough, he's hiding his own laugh beneath his hand.
You don't stop until your throat screams for release, so you gobble up the tiny bit of water left in your cup. The feeling is heavenly, and considering David couldn't wipe the smirk off his face, he agreed.
"If people could see us now," he whispers.
"Forget about seeing us," you say "Tell them how old we really are."
David snorts, "Oh yeah, the great hero Atlas, the hero of London and underage drinker."
You blanch, but David waves you off.
"Relax, I've got a power scrambling what we say. They're hearing us talk about sports or something."
That's good to hear, but you've got one question.
"Sports?"
"Hey give me a break," David scowls "I can't just come up with something on the spot."
"I did," you say.
David slams his glass on the table and jabs a shaking finger at you.
"You pulled that plan out of your ass," David says, calling you out.
"It worked, didn't it?" you argue holding up your hands.
David grits his teeth and after a second lets his head fall on the table.
"And that's why I hate you."
"Well," you say holding up your water glass, "You're stuck with me."
David lifts his head, eyeing the glass. With no small amount of annoyance and amusement, he holds up his own. The ring filled your little booth even as you take your obligated drinks. You put down your glasses, and David doesn't grimace.
"You know… this isn't half bad?"
You don't know if he's talking about the company or the drink, but you can't resist a little jab.
"What? Shit talking each other?" you ask.
David scoffs, rising to the challenge.
"Sure. It's the only way you'll beat me in a fight."
Oh, that's good. You don't have anything to that. You raise your glass again, and he taps with an empty glass.
"Do me a favor and invite me to the next one."
Turns out, whatever David set you up with had enough cash to pay for the drinks. David was walking a little funny at the end of it. Thankfully, you didn't need him to teleport the two of you back home. Before you know it, you're back up in Cauldron before your shift starts.
You've got a few hours to kill, so you might as well check on...
[] Charles. You haven't seen him too much, maybe he's cooked up something cool in his lab? If he has, you don't want to miss that.
[] Matthew. Last time you checked, he's still in New York helping rebuild after Symphony's riots. You could help him out before your shift starts, it's the least you can do.
[] Manton. He's famous now with his paper proving the existence of Parahumans. Maybe he's got some advice for you, he's had plenty of time to think about this stuff.
[] Doctor Mother. You don't want to be in the same room as the woman, but you do need to make sure she's doing her part.
[] Fortuna. You haven't seen her at all since you started working, and it doesn't hurt anyone to say hi. Finding her though...
[] Rebecca. You... really need some time to think about what to say.
The fighting was over, there's nothing left that can hurt them.
Yet she's asking you why?
"He helped."
The man grins from ear to ear even as Rebecca's line somehow looks angrier. You feel a pang of guilt, but you can't bring yourself to let it stop you.
"There was a lot of people in here, he fought them off so I could-"
"Get shot," Fancy points out.
You try not to let the wince show, even as you get closer, taking a spot next to Rebecca. The fancy man shrugs in her grip, "Not that I did much better."
Following his gaze, you see his right leg hanging in the air, a nasty purple and red surrounding his knee. Injured as he was, it doesn't stop Rebecca from pushing him harder against the wall.
Or you from putting a hand on her shoulder.
Her face doesn't move, but you can feel her stiffen at your touch.
"We can at least hear him out."
It was the least you could do. You got out of this, but who knows what might've happened if he wasn't distracting everyone. Rebecca's fingers strained against her glove, and she shakes her head.
"Atlas," she warns.
"I'm only hearing him out," you clarify, "Anything else, we'll decide later."
With her hand on his neck, Rebecca's face a stone cold line. Nothing moves, nothing even breathes.
A blink later and it's gone. She drops Fancy, leaving the man to land on only one good leg. You can barely land well with two, but apparently, no one remembered to tell Fancy what should happen. He falls on his right leg, giving it a few experimental hops while he dusted off his clothes.
Rebecca scowls and gestures him forward.
"Out with it."
Fancy rubs his neck, "A little tight don't you think?"
"I was barely touching you," Rebecca comments.
If the fact scared Fancy, he definitely didn't let it show. He chuckled good-naturedly, loosening his shirt.
"Oh I have no doubt about that," he held out his hand, "but I'm being terribly rude to my allies. I'm Marquis, and I already know you two."
"Then drop the hand before I break your wrist again."
His smile falters, a bead of sweat running down his neck. He grimaces and settles back, but you look to Rebecca. Again? The only part of him with anything you could see was his leg. A healing power maybe? Whatever it is, Marquis clears his throat and flourishes his fingers on the way to his pockets.
"Happy?" he asks, daring Rebecca to argue.
Her arm tightens and you shake your hand. She gets the message instantly. Stepping back and letting you ask the questions.
"You said you had an offer?"
Marquis' annoying grin slides back onto his face.
"Well, I'm glad you asked. As you can tell, I am a connoisseur of… less than pleasant company, as it were."
"So are we," you say, Rebecca nodding in the corner of your eye.
After two months of fighting the Musicians, dealing with Doctor Mother, Symphony and tonight, you've gotten as close to these people as you ever want to. Not that he needed to know the exact time, but you get the feeling the less that you say about that, the better.
But Marquis shrugs dismissively.
"Now I have no doubt about that, but from what I hear, you're the type to look down on said company from above. Or in other cases," he eyes Rebecca, "You break them faster than they can blink."
A wave blips over Rebecca's lips, a gasp you could barely catch. Break them, what is he talking about? You look at her, but your friend is still as stone without making a single wave.
"I give them a chance to surrender," she says curtly.
Marquis' eyebrow rises, "Really?"
"Yes, really." you stress, "Everyone gets a chance."
Marquis whistles, and looks around. His eyes cover the fallen forms of All Father and Rain, and the broken silhouettes bashed into the walls. Marquis holds his hands placatingly, and you feel the waves gather around your hand. He doesn't get to use this. You gave them a chance, you practically begged. It shouldn't have happened, and you're only sad that it did.
Not that he cares.
"Clearly you're right, far be it from me to insinuate anything, I'm getting off track."
"Figured that out on your own?" Rebecca asks.
You hold back a snort. Surprisingly though, Marquis doesn't. He tips an imaginary hat at you and your friend.
"The news stories don't give either of you justice. I was expecting a big speech, but this makes it far easier to ask if I could join your little group."
That's… not what you were expecting at all.
You blink once, you heard that right, right? Him, the man who ripped out someone's throat without a second thought, wanted to join you? You glance at Rebecca, and she looks lost for words.
"You want....to join.... us?" Rebecca asks.
"In a manner of speaking," Marquis clarifies, "Obviously people with your reputation wouldn't want things to be sullied having someone like me within your ranks. After all, unlike you, it wasn't luck that brought me here in the first place."
He claps his hands together, but his grin takes on a cruel sheen.
"I'll be your eyes and ears within Brockton. If any of All Father's more zealous followers attempt to pick up where he left off, I'll be the first to know and the first to stop them. And if I can't, you'll be the first to hear me admit it. In return, I walk out of this…" he casts an eye around and shivers, "dreadful casino with the Police being none the wiser."
You share another look with Rebecca. Cause that's it? That's all he wanted, a chance to… be the inside guy? Stay in the middle of a gang war, just so he could have your phone number and walk out of here?
That feels… way to easy.
"That's it?" You ask.
"What else do I need?" Marquis asks, "Money isn't an issue, and All Father is going to be spending the rest of his days in a cell. With you Founders cleaning up Symphony's mess, I can keep this little corner of paradise all to myself."
"You've got some strange tastes," Rebecca says.
Marquis spreads his arms wide, "Welcome to Brockton Bay Alexandria, we breathe crazy around here."
"I'm not arguing that." she deadpans.
"As you shouldn't, but you must answer this. Do we have a deal?
You glance down at All Father and his daughter, the two who were this close to making a superhuman Nazi empire. Even if you took care of it, there are bigger problems that you need to deal with. Having a guy on the inside keeping tabs on things… that's a good thing no matter how you slice it.
On the other hand, you don't trust this guy to hold open the door, much less be a spy for you without some ulterior motive. Short answer, he just wants to get out of here after watching the Empire get decimated by the three of you in ten minutes. On the other hand… you've got no idea, but you know there's got to be something else he could gain from this. You've got no clue what it is, but it's there.
Thankfully, there's someone infinitely smarter than you right behind you.
The second you look back, Rebecca nods, moving to the side. You raise an eyebrow, was she sure? She nods again, and you step out of the way. Marquis hid any surprise well, smiling in victory.
You give his hand a firm shake stepping to the side.
"Kind of you."
"Just get out of here before the police get in," you say.
Marquis looks surprised as if the idea hadn't crossed his mind. He straightens his collar and snaps his fingers.
"Speaking of the police, don't ask how it reminded me, but how will you contact me?"
"Someone will get to you," Rebecca says.
Really? Who? Then you remember Contessa and the doors. Yeah, shouldn't be too hard with those two working together. Marquis whistles and the waves show the shiver that goes down his leg.
"Then pleasure doing business with you," he tips a hat that isn't there. His limp is painful to watch, but even so, he gets to David. Eidolon looks to you, and you wave him aside. David snorts something, but stands to the side, leaving Marquis to saunter out of the broken casino.
"Do I get to know what that was all about?" David asks, jabbing at the exit.
You rub your head, "He's an..."
"Investment." Rebecca finishes.
You grimace, not precisely what you would call it. You get the feeling that David agrees with you from the sound of his huff.
"Thanks for inviting me to the conversation."
"Sorry," you say, "But-"
"You were working," Rebecca points out.
"I was going to say that it happened too fast," you argue.
"It wasn't," Rebecca clips.
Without a word, she picks up All Father and Rain and throws them over her shoulders like sacks of flour. You know she's strong, but seeing Rebecca throw two bigger people over her shoulder is still a sight to behold.
"Door."
A flash and a green door appears in the wall. Rebecca kicks it open as softly as she can, revealing what looks like a prison block. Must be the cells that Contessa mentioned a while back. Hearing them is one thing, seeing them though…
Cauldron didn't do anything halfway did it?
Every single room looked like something out of Terminator. Monitors over every lock, blue light over every bed. There wasn't even a bathroom, just a section of the wall that looks like it pops out. None of them were filled, but Rebecca looked ready to change that.
"You two can handle the rest," Rebecca says, "I'll be readying these two for an extensive stay."
"You need help with that?"
Rebecca stiffens, at least you think she does. The door's giving the room a breeze, sending flashes of waves all over the place. A few spring off of Rebecca, but for the life of you, you can't tell if she made them.
"I'll ask for help if I need it. Try not to get hurt in the meantime."
You flinch, that's cruel. You were only trying to help Number Man, you didn't know what you were getting into. That's not an excuse, and it's sad to say that's all that you have. The door blinks out, and Rebecca and her passengers are gone.
Suddenly, you're tired. Of today, of powers, of complicated shit in general.
"Do you want a drink?"
You blink, rounding on David.
"What?"
"Drinks," David repeats, "I could go for one after all this, and you're coming."
You want to argue. Because honestly, you're really not in the mood to be your father for an afternoon. Not that you'll ever want to be like him. You take one step away, and David's eyes start glowing.
"Er, sure," you say quickly, "Where?"
The glow fades away, and you even with the mask covering it up, you know he's smirking. Jerk.
"Local place, nothing too far."
Turns out, David wasn't kidding. After talking to the police and handing over the empire loyalist, you flew out of sight long enough for David to charge another power. With a wave of his hand, the two of you were in civilian clothes with wallets in pockets filled with ID's that you don't remember having.
Last time you checked you were 18, not 22.
David didn't seem to care and strode out of the alleyway that you changed in like he owned the city. You follow him for a few minutes, making only two blocks before David turns into a small bar at the edge of the district. The Fat Angel, lovely name.
Inside the denizens of Brockton Bay that are in were absorbed with the news story dominating the station. The Headline, "Founders Arrive in the Bay" is displayed in full view. The tv's muted, but it didn't stop most of the bar's patrons from looking on in equal parts amazement and concern. David ignores all of it and takes a spot in the far booth. He snaps his fingers, and something happens around the booth. A power of his, what it does you have no clue, but he gestures at the open seat. You take the offered spot, and an older woman walks over. She flips through a notepad and waits.
"A Boston Lager." David orders.
She glances at you and you shrug.
"Water's fine."
She rolls her eyes at that, but writes it down and hurries to the bar. David chuckles, "Don't like drinking?"
You shake your head, "Don't see the point."
You try not to let annoyance slip into your tone. You fail. David shrugs it off like it didn't affect him.
"I don't either, I'm just trying to see what the fuss is about."
You blink, "Didn't you say you wanted a drink?"
David shrugs again, "It's my twenty-first, I'm finally allowed, no harm in trying."
His twenty-first?
"It's your birthday?" you ask.
"Sure is," he says, boredom practically leaking off every word.
"Oh…" you trail off.
You had no idea. You've worked with him for over two months, but you don't even know his birthday? Hell, you don't know Charles or Matthew's birthday either. Despite your admittance, David rolls his eyes.
"Don't worry about it, I didn't look for yours either."
"Great," you say, shoulders slumping.
The waitress returned, putting the pint glass in front of David and the smaller glass of water in front of you. You take the glass and give a long drink. It goes a lot better than David's attempt. The man sputters, and coughs as the liquid goes down. He holds the glass at arm's length, a look of betrayal flashing over him.
"How the hell do people drink this stuff?"
"You drink more," you say.
David blinks and shrugs, "Sound advice," he says, taking another, smaller sip.
"My dad was a bartender" you explain, "I got plenty of experience with what it does with him around."
Clint nearly started, but the man smashed the bottle before your brother could get the chance. It was the first time that he looked impressed at what Dad did. Though, it didn't last long as the stain sent Danah into a fit a few minutes later.
"Sounds tough," David says.
You wave it off, "It's nothing special. You probably have your own sob story."
"You're right, and I'm positive you don't have shit on me," David takes another sip, grimacing at the taste.
Well, alright then. You shift in your seat, tapping your glass.
"So…" you start, "Are we here to talk about it?"
David nearly chokes on his next sip. When he can breathe again, he shoots a puzzled look.
"It?"
"The shit you were talking about," You answer, "Isn't that why we're here?"
David blinks and looks at you like you started growing a second head.
"Why would I want to talk about that?"
"I don't know," you admit, "I'm still trying to figure out why the hell we're here."
David stares at you for a few seconds before running a hand through his hair.
"Unbelievable," he mutters.
"What?"
He looks at you like the answer should be obvious. But it isn't because you've got no clue. The most powerful man you know rolls his eyes again, but there isn't any annoyance in them. Just disappointment, but he's not looking at you.
"You're the one that wanted me to be better. Here's my go at it."
Being better, what is he talking about? Then it hits you.
"Is this about that mentor thing? I haven't thought about it for months."
"Really?" David asks, genuinely surprised before slipping back to disappointment, "Then I've been doing a pretty shit job."
"We've been busy," you say in his defense.
Which is strange enough by the way. You're defending David of all people, the guy that can blow up a country if he wanted to, the same guy who threw you into the dirt when you first met. From the look on his face, he's just as surprised as you.
"Busy," David repeats, "Weird way to say fumbling around but whatever."
"We're following the plan," you say.
"Who said anything about the plan? I'm talking about me." David says.
He goes in for another drink while you're left wondering what he's going on about. He taps against the table, face contorting as he stares at the empty glass in front of him.
"Look, I'll be honest, I don't like you."
"I got that," you say flatly.
"You're an emotional teenager with gravity powers and frankly, you always getting your way pisses me off," he continues.
"Thanks," you grunt.
"You stick your nose in other people's business, and you don't stop until you helped them."
"I get it," you say, cutting him and off bashing the table, "I'm annoying."
He actually smiles at that, "Took the word right out of my mouth."
"Glad I could help," you drawl.
David rolls his eyes, swirling his finger around the edge of the cup. Maybe he's trying to make it ring. It doesn't, and you're left with silence for a few seconds. One more long gulp and David's halfway through his pint. He shivers at the taste, and you roll your eyes as you down the rest of your water. After all the work that you've put in, you need this.
"So what did you do to piss off Rebecca?"
You sigh, running a hand through your hair.
"I think it's because I got hurt."
Thinking back, she looked ready to kick you off the roof before she saw your shoulder.
"Yeah, you did look like shit," David says taking a drink.
Your eye twitches and you groan.
"You know for a guy with a thousand powers, you are terrible at small talk."
David grips his glass a little too tight even as he starts rubbing his forehead.
"And yet I brought you along."
"Only because I'm the only one who will listen to you," you throw out.
It's a joke. You expect a scoff, a laugh. Instead, David sets his hands down and stares down at his drink.
"... huh, that obvious?"
You… you don't know how to respond to that. All you can do is watch as David does your old man proud and finishes off his beer with a long take. He puts the glass down and shakes the buzz. He tries at least, but you can't throw out what alcohol does to you. And this guy in front of you, a demigod that can bring down mountains, is blushing after only one drink.
You chuckle, you were afraid of this guy? Geeze, you really are an idiot.
You flag down the waitress, "Two glasses of water please."
She nods and heads off. David glances up from his mini stupor.
"Stay hydrated, it'll help with the hangovers."
David... doesn't look like he knows what to do with that.
"Is that really all it takes?" he asks.
You purse your lips. Water, food, those helped more than most gave it credit for.
"It helps."
David looks at you quizzically, but as the waitress returns, he doesn't hesitate to take a long drink of water. When he stops he grimaces.
"I'm following your advice… what is this world coming to?"
"No clue," you admit.
David laughs, "Don't let anyone hear you say that. Might wonder what the hell you're thinking."
You bark out a laugh, "And you think I know what I'm doing?"
David spits out the water, and you can't help yourself. David, the guy with any power, is choking on a drink. Stupid? Definitely. Immature, certainly, but right now you don't care. The sight of him cleaning the shit off his chin is enough to get you going. Soon enough, he's hiding his own laugh beneath his hand.
You don't stop until your throat screams for release, so you gobble up the tiny bit of water left in your cup. The feeling is heavenly, and considering David couldn't wipe the smirk off his face, he agreed.
"If people could see us now," he whispers.
"Forget about seeing us," you say "Tell them how old we really are."
David snorts, "Oh yeah, the great hero Atlas, the hero of London and underage drinker."
You blanch, but David waves you off.
"Relax, I've got a power scrambling what we say. They're hearing us talk about sports or something."
That's good to hear, but you've got one question.
"Sports?"
"Hey give me a break," David scowls "I can't just come up with something on the spot."
"I did," you say.
David slams his glass on the table and jabs a shaking finger at you.
"You pulled that plan out of your ass," David says, calling you out.
"It worked, didn't it?" you argue holding up your hands.
David grits his teeth and after a second lets his head fall on the table.
"And that's why I hate you."
"Well," you say holding up your water glass, "You're stuck with me."
David lifts his head, eyeing the glass. With no small amount of annoyance and amusement, he holds up his own. The ring filled your little booth even as you take your obligated drinks. You put down your glasses, and David doesn't grimace.
"You know… this isn't half bad?"
You don't know if he's talking about the company or the drink, but you can't resist a little jab.
"What? Shit talking each other?" you ask.
David scoffs, rising to the challenge.
"Sure. It's the only way you'll beat me in a fight."
Oh, that's good. You don't have anything to that. You raise your glass again, and he taps with an empty glass.
"Do me a favor and invite me to the next one."
Turns out, whatever David set you up with had enough cash to pay for the drinks. David was walking a little funny at the end of it. Thankfully, you didn't need him to teleport the two of you back home. Before you know it, you're back up in Cauldron before your shift starts.
You've got a few hours to kill, so you might as well check on...
[] Charles. You haven't seen him too much, maybe he's cooked up something cool in his lab? If he has, you don't want to miss that.
[] Matthew. Last time you checked, he's still in New York helping rebuild after Symphony's riots. You could help him out before your shift starts, it's the least you can do.
[] Manton. He's famous now with his paper proving the existence of Parahumans. Maybe he's got some advice for you, he's had plenty of time to think about this stuff.
[] Doctor Mother. You don't want to be in the same room as the woman, but you do need to make sure she's doing her part.
[] Fortuna. You haven't seen her at all since you started working, and it doesn't hurt anyone to say hi. Finding her though...
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