Just Super

There were two souls at the center of the maelstrom. One, obviously, was in control of it as the winds whipped around him, not displacing one strand of his practically perfect wavy blond hair. The other seemed to be keeping the rain and the wind from him in a protective bubble, but it was fading given the occasional flutter of cloth and whiplash of hair. The skies overhead were dark and angry looking, and as he pulled in his wings, he decided that landing on a ledge and crawling his way up might be wiser than attempting to fly.

It took only a quick thought for the stubby claws on his fingers to elongate and sharpen, and as an afterthought, he gave the pads of his fingers a sticky gecko-like grip. Just because these two men had decided that the top of the building was the perfect place to throw themselves at each other didn’t mean that it was necessarily safe.

Edison he could understand. He looked much different now than he had when he and Josh had been kids. The straight black hair that Ed had always kept short and neatly trimmed was now long and scraggily. White was sneaking in at the temples in spite of the fact that they were only in their mid twenties, and there were long streaks of it making Ed look ages older than he was.

He was glad he’d volunteered to come instead of his mother. Seeing Ed like this would have broken his mother’s heart.

An angry sonic screech echoed eerily in the storm, and since it was the tall blond god that fumbled, Josh had to assume that it had originated with Ed. Which was strange, because Edison had never had that kind of power as a kid. Empathy in spades, maybe, but nothing like what he was displaying now.

Of course, Josh’s dad may have been right. Maybe Ed had ended up being a late bloomer. There were a select few Heroes whose powers didn’t manifest until their mid to late twenties.

“Give up, Captain Patriot! Just fucking give up!”

The words were roared, and Josh knew enough to know that Ed had sent an empathic command along with the words. He could feel himself fumbling as he tried to get in closer, and they hadn’t even been directed at him. However, and it was a rather big however, it didn’t seem to phase this Captain Patriot in the least. The big blond walking stereotype managed instead to summon even more infernal rain and wind and irritated, Josh tenaciously clung to the side of the skyscraper.

“The hell I will! What gives you the right to just waltz in here and try to blow up this building? Who the hell do you think you are, anyway?!” Captain Patriot held a hand up and Josh felt like he should be taking a picture or something as it was the perfect pose for the cover of Superheroes Weekly. Lightening flashed briefly and then a bolt struck down, narrowly bouncing off a quickly erected shield that Ed somehow managed to make and hitting an antenna on the roof, making the fur on the back of Josh’s neck raise.

“Me?” Ed demanded, uprooting a stylized gargoyle and mentally tossing it at Captain Patriot. That was new too, Josh was sure. Ed used to have all the telekinetic power of a backwards three year old. “You will call me Belphegor, or master if you prefer as I’m dragging you to hell with me!”

That was new as well. And Josh tried not to boggle. Belphegor? Since fucking when? Ed wasn’t the kind of guy to talk like this or act like this or even do this kind of thing. “Yo, Bel!” He landed stepped awkwardly between the two of them. Had his father been here, he would have smacked Josh so hard he’d be seeing stars for the next millennia for attempting to get between fighting supers. But Dad wasn’t here at the moment, which was for the best, because the man had little patience for tantrums, and he would have had even less for the one that these two hotheads were intent on throwing.

Ed was taken aback at seeing him, it was obvious, and given the confusion on his face, he couldn’t totally recall where he’d seen an eleven foot furry red dragon before. Maybe Ed was taking drugs? Hell, there couldn’t be that many shapeshifting furry dragons out there. Honestly. Exasperated, Josh shifted into his normal body and raised an eyebrow out Ed who glared for a moment and then moved behind a blank emotional wall that Josh couldn’t feel anything through.

“Calling in reinforcements? That’s a little lame, isn’t it, Belphegor?”

Rolling his eyes, Josh rounded on the tall blond god. “I’m sorry, was I talking to you?”

Heavens, the kid was built like a tank. At least a foot taller and in a star striped, flag colored suit that clung to him like saran wrap. He had to be wearing a cup, or Josh was certain he’d have been able to make out the kid’s cock and both balls. As it was, he could practically count each muscle and muscle group present in the human body on sight alone. “I’m sorry, did we invite you to come and play in our little argument?” Captain Patriot spat back.

“Shoo, shoo.” Josh waved a hand condescendingly “Go back and play in the kiddie pool. Bel and I are going to have a talk about powers and how to not use them while precariously situated on top of skyscrapers in the dead of night.”

Two lightening bolts hit on either side of Josh, and Captain Patriot smirked back at him. “I don’t like you,” he said simply, smiling as he looked at Josh.

“Feeling’s mutual.” Captain Stereotype could kiss his ass. It was one thing to have to put up with the kind of meatheaded elitist football player crap in high school. But they weren’t in high school anymore, and it only took a second for Josh to Shape back to the dragon and blow a stream of fire at Mr. I’ve-Got-More-Muscles-Than-God.

Ed, however, did not seem to care what either one of them thought of the other, and the building underneath Josh’s feet shuddered as Ed growled. Another lightening bolt bounced off Ed’s shield, a sure indication that Captain Stupid was less worried about Josh and more interested in Ed. He Shaped back into human form. No need to give either of them a bigger target than usual.

“What the hell, Ed?” He tried to yell over the howling wind.

“Go home Josh. This has nothing to do with you!” Ed snarled back, his eyes glowing a funny color as the steel girders groaned under the strain of what Ed was attempting. And while Josh could appreciate that Ed wasn’t overly fond of the skyscraper—it was the shiniest jewel in Glasstech’s crown, after all—that wasn’t a reason to singlehandedly attempt to render it into rubble. While there were innocents inside, no less.

“Look, I know you hate this place, but there are other ways of dealing with it. Just come home with me. Mom’ll fix you up just fine,” he tried negotiating, his throat aching from the strain. Something in Ed’s gaze wavered for a moment before those emotional shields slammed back into place. The wave of despair that he sent out had Josh stumbling and falling to his knees. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Captain Patriot fighting under the same. The clouds cleared for half a second and the wind died down just enough that Josh’s ugly red hair wasn’t slapping him in the face anymore.

Some things don’t get to be fixed. Ed’s mental voice crashed through his defenses. There was a desperate sorrow to it that hadn’t been there when they’d been kids. Ed had never exactly been a gregarious overly joyful child, but this was a bit much. Some things just stay broken. And maybe there’s just not much of a point in fixing anything anymore. Ed crumpled in on himself, his form going still for a second before vanishing in front of Josh’s eyes.

Fucking hell! How many powers had Ed come into? No way that Jocelyn wasn’t writing articles about this and publishing it in every superhero scientific journal she could get her hands on. Maybe that would be the first place to start investigating. Because to have a teleporter who was empathic and telekinetic—while not entirely outside the realm of reality, was not exactly a regular occurance either.

Turning, he raised an eyebrow at Captain Patriot who looked just as confused. Thankfully, however, the night sky cleared allowing enough of the moon to shine through for Josh to feel comfortable enough to Shape back to dragon form. One launch and he’d just fly home. It was too late to take the bus anyway, and why the hell would he take a taxi on a night this clear.

Plus, he needed something to do as he tried to figure out what the hell had happened to his favorite cousin.

“So, Josh,” Patriot smirked at him, and Josh blew fire at him. He hoped the saran wrap singed.

But since the gods always sided with one of their arrogant own, Captain Patriot came out of it completely unharmed and uniform intact. “Night Scream. My name is Night Scream. Now, if your royal fucktardness doesn’t mind, I’m off to find out what in the hell that was all about.”

And all right, so maybe a small part of him smiled at the rather loud ‘blow it out your ass, Dragon’ that echoed over the night skies after him.

---

“Dad!” Chip yelped, throwing a towel around his waist and then wincing as the movement jarred one of the bruised rips that Belphegor had given him. Goddamn, why did all super villains aim for the ribs? He supposed he should be thankful that they didn’t aim for the crotch, but still, he liked breathing.

“What? Your bits haven’t changed that much since you were little. Same basic stuff’s there.”

Right, because that wasn’t both horrifying and completely embarrassing at the same time. “I’d like to think it’s at least gotten bigger,” he grumbled as his father, Brady Forsythe, tossed a first aid kit onto Chip’s bed and then gingerly hobbled over, leaning his cane against Chip’s desk.

“I’ll just bet you do.”

“Dad! Give me a least a little bit of dignity here,” he pleaded, trying to keep the towel up, breathe and pull out a fresh pair of shorts all at once.

“Fine, fine, I’ll close my eyes. That better?” His dad smiled indulgently, before leaning back and closing his eyes.

“Yes. And no peeking.” Chip kept an eye on him, shimmying into his shorts in record time. “All right, you can open them.” He moved gingerly himself until he was situated on the bed beside his father.

“My son, the prude,” Bradylaughed, reaching out and pulling Chip into a headlock and messing up his hair. If he really wanted, Chip could get out of the grip. Hell, if he really wanted, he could bench press his father without breaking a sweat. But it made the old man feel better to do stuff like that, and to tell the truth, Chip didn’t mind it half so much either.

“Yeah right. You’ve seen the suit, right?” He snorted. As if that damned suit did all but show his butt crack. He had to wear a thong. A thong! to keep from leaving underwear lines. He had to be the only superhero out there that went around with a permanent wedgie and didn’t like it.

“So, was it worth the risk of not finishing your psych paper?” Brady started wrapping tape around Chip’s ribs, and Chip groaned. He’d forgotten all about the damned pysch paper. It was due tomorrow at ten am, so it was pretty much looking like he’d be pulling an all-nighter. Fuck.

“Yeah, it was worth it.” Because not going would have resulted in the complete destruction of the Glasstech Inc. skyscraper downtown. “How was work?” And that mattered because it happened to be where his father worked the night shift as a security guard.

“Windy. Thought the building was going to sway right out of its foundation.” Brady chuckled. “Damned company can build entire empires out of their technology, and yet they have shit for construction and shit for security. Don’t get me wrong, I might be a retired cop, but I still’ve got my instincts and I’m a good shot. But with all those gizmos and doo-dads, you think they could get us cameras to stare at that weren’t complete shit.”

“You know their kind. All money, no brains.” Chip grinned at the old joke between them. Glasstech might put food on the table, but they had little respect for the company itself.

“So who was tonight’s super don’t?”

“Some idiot named Belphegor.” Chip winced as his father’s hand hit a bruise. “Empathic, Telekinetic, capable of Teleportation.”

Bradylet out a low whistle. “That’s a lot for one guy.”

“That’s the part that’s bugging me, really.” Well, aside from the upstart redheaded dragon of annoyingness. “Most supers get one power. Two, like mine, are rare, and one’s usually weaker than the other. Three? That’s simply unheard of. And he seemed just as strong at one as he was at the other two.”

“Sounds pleasant.”

“Oh yes. Walk on the beach.” He sucked in a shallow breath as his father clipped the final ace bandage into place.

“Maybe we can find him in Superhero Weekly. Someone with that much talent, villain or not, is going to make a splash.”

“Yes, but if you want to know more than whether or not they’re having fictitious alien babies or that their favorite color is blue, we’ll have to look elsewhere,” Chip chuckled. “Sides, I thought you gave that up after they called Captain Patriot a two-bit hack.”

“Bastards. Just because you refused to give an interview,” Brady grumbled. “Charlie reads the rags. I got bored the other night and flipped through it. You know Dr. Ice prefers blonds?”

“Great. Thanks for the heads up. Now I know to run in the other direction next time I see her.” He got up and stretched slowly, working out the kinks. He had ten pages to write tonight, and the sooner he got cracking on it, the better.

“And the suit? Do I need to get it repaired?”

“No, that came out just fine.” More was the pity. Chip kept hoping that on one of these episodes, the stupid thing would spontaneously combust into unrecognizable pieces. It was like walking around with a big target taped to his back and a sign that said, ‘Please hit me’ on his front. But, his dad had designed it, found someone insane enough to make it, and treated it with the same reverence he gave his prized revolver.

It would break his father’s heart if Chip told him that he felt like a cheap Super Stripper in his costume.

“Well, I gotta work a split shift tonight, so I won’t be home by the time you leave for your 8 o’clock class. Make sure you eat breakfast.” Brady stood slowly, grabbing his cane and leaning on it.

“Yeah Dad. I think I can remember that.” Chip booted up his ancient computer as he sat down at his desk. “You know, cause I’ve been feeding myself for years now.”

“Smart ass,” Brady chuckled. “You got a ride into school tomorrow, or do I need to leave you the car?” He grabbed his hat from the corner of Chip’s desk and threw it on. He had dark brown hair and brown eyes. And Chip knew, logically, that he’d gotten his hair and his eyes from his mother, but since she hadn’t stuck around longer than two seconds after he was born, there were days when he wished he looked a little less like an ad for white supremacy and more like his old man.

“Nah, Morgan’s taking that lit class with me, so I’ve been hitching rides in with him.” Morgan drove the most beat up jalopy in the planet and literally had a kitchen sink in the back seat, but anything was better than taking the bus or making his father take the bus. Plus, Morgan was an all right kind of guy. Hadn’t punched Chip out or stopped talking to him the first time Chip had hit on him. That kind of friendship was hard to find amongst straights.

“Better him than Dee.” His father shook his head. Chip snorted. Dee, on the other hand, drove and brand new beamer and made everyone take their shoes off before she’d let them in.

“Hey, Dee’s not that bad.”

“Girl drives like the road is a suggestion. I’m amazed she hasn’t killed that car yet.”

“Whatever.” He laughed, and ducked slightly as his dad bent down to kiss his head. “Geez, I’m eighteen already. Don’t you think I’m a little old for this?”

“You’re never too old to be my son.” Brady reached over with one hand and pinched Chip’s cheek. Hard. “Brat.”

“Ow. You know I hate it when you do that.” Chip laughed, as he rubbed his sore cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, stay out of trouble.” And with that, Brady left.

Focusing his attention back on his pysch paper, Chip sighed. It was going to be a hard semester, he could tell already. He doubted that Belphegor would simply give up after this attempt, he certainly didn’t seem the type. And he got the feeling that wherever Belphegor reappeared, Josh wouldn’t be too far behind.

Oh no, sorry, Night Scream. And people thought Captain Patriot was a stupid name.

Stupid dragon. Stupid not hot dragon. Stupid not hot dragon who most certainly did not have a nice body or pretty red hair or bright green eyes. And goddamn it, he was not going to lust after a super villain like some addled idiot.

And dragons weren’t cute. Not even the furry red ones.

He was going to prove that theory by writing this damned paper and by not thinking about the not cute dragon.

Really.