#asuomela

Still, the roof tops are fairly boring at this time of day, before the real weird Supers come out and long after any civilians are working up high.

Erik’s been on Timo recently about practicing, so Timo decides that’s as good a way as any to pass the time. He’s gotten better for sure, good enough to feel the conductive channels through the thick concrete, electrical wires and metal pipes. Erik claims that he wants Timo to be good enough to feel someone’s exact brainwaves, but that’s a bit of a reach.

He hasn’t told Kevin about that particular goal because he thinks it sounds deranged, but Kevin’s been very supportive of Timo practicing. Timo assumes that’s because he enjoys Timo’s growing control; it’s made rolling around in bed a good deal less hazardous for all of Kevin’s sensitive bits.

Timo frowns and texts Kevin again. There’s no answer. He texts the group chat, asking if anyone else has heard from Kevin.

His earbud crackles to life. Erik’s voice comes softly through as he directs, “Wait for Antti and Tomas. They’re in the area. Let them go in dressed normally and ask the front desk. Call Kevin and see if he answers. He probably just got caught up in work again.”

“Okay,” Timo acknowledges, hitting dial on his phone. It rings, but to no avail. The voicemail sound beeps in his ear and he falters. “Hey, babe, where are you? I’ve been waiting for you for about fifteen minutes. You’re worrying Tomas. It’s fine if you have to work late, just call me back and let me know.”

He hangs up and stares at the screen for a moment, watching minuscule rain drops fall on the glass. He calls again and gets sent to voicemail again.

He turns to his team. “Erik?”

Erik’s voice comes through his ear bud. “I switched your comm off while you were on the phone. Tomas and Antti are in the building, going up to Kevin’s floor. Simmer’s nearby somewhere. They were all grabbing dinner together before I called them in.”

“Tomas is with Kevin’s coworkers,” Antti says suddenly. “I’m on my way to the security office to see if there’s anything They might have seen.”

“Be careful,” Timo and Erik say together. Antti doesn’t audibly scoff, but Timo still winces. He hates when they treat him like he needs protection. He’s competent, Timo knows, but he was also their team rookie long before any of them had powers. It makes some things more complicated.

“They thought he went home,” Tomas says slowly, quietly. “His bag was still at his desk. I saw it.”

“Okay,” Erik says calmly, like Timo’s heart isn’t in his throat. “Sweep the bathrooms and then—“

“We have a problem,” Antti interrupts frantically. “I’ve got three security guards in the hall who are knocked out. One of them is bleeding from the back of his head.”

“Get out,” Erik says, voice hard. “Both of you out now.”

“Wait,” Antti says, “I’m already here. The office door is open.”

The rain is coming down harder now, dripping down the back of Timo’s uniform and chilling him as he crouches there on the roof. The uniform is waterproof, but his hands and head are exposed and getting increasingly cold. He feels cold inside too, fear stealing his breath away.

“There’s a lot of screens,” Antti says slowly. “I don’t know see how to rewind it, but there are a decent number of cameras spread throughout the building. A lot of them are in common areas, so if Kevin was in a bathroom we wouldn’t see him going in or anything probably?”

“Here,” Tomas’ voice breaks through. “Give me one minute.”

“I’m not giving you any fucking time,” Erik repeats. “Get out.”

There’s silence and then quiet cursing through the comms. “It’s the Super from before,” Antti says. “We’re leaving, Erik, but the hallway to the security office had cameras and the Super hit the guards and didn’t even bother to hide any evidence. He just wanted them silent while he did whatever he was going to do.”

“He was in the elevator,” Tomas says. “Going down. Then they both disappear from the video.”

Timo hears Antti arguing with Tomas distantly, something about the guards and medical help.

Timo leaps off the roof, pushing up to get a better view. He waits to see if Tomas and Antti make it out, hovers there impatiently. There’s too much noise in the city to hear any individual, even with enhanced senses. He taps his fingers together to feel the electric sparks, over and over and over.

There’s a ripple in the darkness below and Erik’s voice rings in his ear sharply. “Timo, get down here.”

Timo lands, too hard, sees the concrete give way slightly under his feet. “What?”

“The others are on their way, but we’re getting started now. We have to search from the last known location and we have to be careful. We don’t want to spook whoever has him.”

Erik waits until Timo stops bouncing on his toes. “Tap into their electrical supply. See if you can find any areas that don’t seem to fit, maybe drawing too much power or too little.”

Timo looks around for a conductor and sees the utility box on the street. It’s as good a place as any to really dive into the city’s grid.

It’s not hard to reach into the city’s pulse, tracing the wiring outward strand by strand. It’s slow work, requiring focus. He’s not really seeing anything, not nearby at least.

“Anything?” Erik’s hand on his shoulder startles him. When he looks around, Antti and Tomas are outside, standing behind Erik.

“No, nothing.”

“Okay. Antti, was there anything on the external security cameras?”

“No, no, like I said, they went in the elevator and went down and then never came out. At least not somewhere with cameras.”

“Okay, so probably underground storage or parking or something. Simmer and I will check it out.”

“I’m coming with you,” Timo blurts out, gripping Erik’s arm too tight. Erik stares at him, too long, and then sweeps him into the shadows.

The dizzying feeling never gets better, but Timo’s used to it. He knows to breathe slowly when they walk out the other side, steps echoing on some basement area paved with stark concrete. There’s no one around, but they’re still trying to be quiet. Simmer slowly comes into view, just behind Erik’s shoulder.

“Well,” Erik says very tightly, “not much guesswork here.”

Timo follows his pointing finger to see the three muddy footprints leading to a slight fold in the concrete wall. “Shit.”

“I’ll go,” Simmer says abruptly. “I’ll see where they went.”

“What?” Erik and Timo speak as one.

“I can go through the wall. Not like that Super obviously, but I can feel my way through.” He places his hand on the wall and sinks it in. “I can tell where it’s been disturbed.”

“No,” Erik says, hand wrapping around Simmer’s free wrist swiftly. “It’s too dangerous. You won’t be able to breathe.” And Timo’s heart stops because that means Kevin wouldn’t be able to breathe either.

“Most walls are a foot. I can find the way. We just need a direction and then we can go.”

“Please,” Timo begs, voice hitched with unshed tears. He doesn’t know which one he’s begging.

“Take Timo back. Meet me on the other side of the wall.”

Erik closes his eyes for a moment, squeezing Simmer’s wrist. “Okay.” He shakes his head. “But one wall at a time and you back out if you can’t feel the other side.”

“Go,” Simmer says, twisting his wrist free, eyes focused on the wall in front of him. Timo can see him squaring his shoulders and he knows what this is costing Simmer, understands the risks he’s taking.

“You seem to know my name,” Kevin says, “but I don’t know who the fuck you are.” Glowing mildly is not a credential and Kevin is wide awake and alert for once. 

“I’m Antti.” His cheerful expression drops suddenly and Kevin steps forward when he suddenly gets even more pale. “Uh, Foxfire.”

Kevin realizes suddenly that this Super just revealed his real name. Accidentally. And is now about to hyperventilate. 

“Foxfire,” Kevin says, nodding rapidly. “Do you want to split breakfast?” He looks Foxfire in the eyes seriously, trying to convey how very much he is not going to tell anyone. 

Foxfire, or Antti, looks pitifully grateful. He nods and opens the bag, holding out for Kevin. There are actually a few different bagel options plus cream cheese. 

“Let’s sit for a minute,” Kevin suggests. He herds the Super to a nearby bench. “Much easier to spread cream cheese that way.”

They divvy up the bagels relatively quickly and use the little plastic knives to saw each bagel in half.

“I’m new to this,” Foxfire says quietly, eyes trained only on his bagel as he dips the knife in the cream cheese. “I’m not very good at it.”

He sounds so disheartened and wobbly that Kevin can hardly stand it. “Hey, no, you’re doing just fine. I’m not going to say anything. It’s like you said, you’re a friend of a friend. We can trust each other. Right?”

Foxfire nods hastily. “You can trust me. I told—Blue I would take my turn looking out for you. He said sometimes you get grumpy when you’re hungry.” He claps a hand over his mouth like that wasn’t supposed to come out, but Kevin just laughs.

“He’s right. Also if I’m sleepy or thirsty or bored.” It’s sweet that this rookie Super brought him breakfast to butter him up. He can’t even get the interns to grab him a coffee yet. “Alright. You going to walk me to work? I know the trains are still blocked.”

“Yeah,” Foxfire says, good humor returning. “I’ll keep you company.”

He does, carefully talking around his teammates' real names. Still, Kevin’s detour took him out of his way and by the time he reaches the office, he’s late. 

He slides into his cubicle as quietly as he can, chucking his bag under his chair, but it’s to no avail.

“Kevin,” Patty calls sternly from his office. Kevin doesn’t know how the fuck Patty caught him sneaking in late when his office door is four inches of solid wood and he doesn’t have windows facing Kevin’s part of the office. Regardless, Kevin has to make an appearance in Patty’s office like he isn’t reluctantly dragging his feet. “Yes, boss?”

“Please have a seat.”

Kevin settles gingerly into the chair in front of Patty’s desk. He keeps his mouth shut and tries to look contrite.

He’s not expecting Patty’s whole demeanor to soften. “Are you okay? It’s very uncharacteristic for you to be late.”

“I’m fine,” Kevin assures him, mildly bewildered.

“If you need to take some leave, you should,” Patty insists. “You’ve been working long hours on the latest client file, but the team can pick up your slack if you need a few days.”

Kevin can’t help it. He snorts. “Sorry, Pat, I am not letting Tim mess up every single figure while Jake sends the client the wrong date for interviews and Noah makes useless, upset noises at them both.”

“They would survive for a few days,” Patty asserts dubiously. 

“I’m fine, Pat. You need me.” 

Patty frowns and then opens up the drawer on his left. “If you insist. Here’s the revised report for you. The debrief summary needs to be fixed before we can close that account permanently.”

Kevin skims the file notes and groans. He knows those charts make no sense, so the underlying figures and data need to be re-examined. “I’ll get it fixed.”

He stops by Noah’s desk and chucks the file on his desk. “Tim’s charts are insane. I’ll take whatever you’re working on if you’ll take this.”

“I’m helping Dylan compile the interview list for his project,” Noah says. “He hasn’t done it before so he wanted me to walk him through it. I’ll let him know to come to you.”

“Sure,” Kevin shrugs. He’s helped with a couple trainings and he can get it done. 

It takes up most of his day, though it’s not Dylan’s fault. There’s an error that wipes the list they’re editing and it takes four emails and a coffee cake bribe to the Russian dude in IT to solve that. By the time they’re done, they’re both wiped out, but Kevin still has to go over Noah’s report before he can go home for the day. 

The office empties around him as he rewrites, reprints, and reorganizes the file. It’s his job to get the stupid folder on Patty’s desk and he’s going to get it done. Patty stops by his cubicle and rests a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Don’t stay too late.”

“I won’t,” Kevin promises. He actually manages to keep that promise for once. He’s out the door within a reasonable hour, though it is dark out. The Gritty alert is still in place, so Kevin just turns his collar up and trudges off into the cold night. He’s a little surprised that he doesn’t have a glowing shadow, though he shouldn’t become reliant on random Supers to get him home. He keeps a careful hand on the mace in his bag. No harm in being prepared. 

He’s still not expecting to turn the corner and walk almost right into a man standing there. He looks like a grey statue, almost invisible in the darkness. 

“Show me your hands,” the guy growls.

“What do you want?” Kevin asks, already backing away. There’s no one else around and the street is poorly lit. He fumbles with his bag, but he’s a little too slow. The man charges him and Kevin realizes the lunatic has a fucking knife. He swings his bag in front of himself and whips out the mace, spraying hastily. The man pauses, shakes his head, and then grabs Kevin and tackles him down.

Kevin lands badly, vision flashing white with pain as his arm twists underneath him. There’s a pop and Kevin played enough sports growing up to recognize a dislocated shoulder. 

The man says something else, but Kevin can barely breathe. He shakes his head and the man uses his grip on Kevin’s jacket to slam him into the pavement.

“Who do you work for?”

Kevin’s winded, gasping, completely useless. An invisible force carries the man off of him and several feet backwards. 

A voice near him says, “Kevin, don’t look!” urgently and then the sky lights up green and blue and pink. Kevin stares at the lights for a moment and then curls on his side to throw up.

The light fades slowly in his periphery as he heaves. Every motion jars his arm, the shoulder screaming. 

Warm hands pat his face and then slip underneath him to pull him up to sitting. He’s wheezing and coughing, probably looking absolutely disgusting, but Antti’s face in front of him is just worried.

Another face comes into view and Kevin absolutely flinches towards Antti. He’s all about not judging a book by its cover, but the book in front of him should probably be titled I Kill for Fun. Antti holds him still, though, says, “He’ll help.”

Serial Killer Face says grimly, “You’re gonna hate this so hold still.”

It’s inauspicious, but Kevin can’t do much but obey. The guy turns out to be absolutely fucking right because Kevin does hate the feeling of someone reaching into his shoulder joint and rummaging around. There’s a clunk, the invasive hand disappears, and Kevin pants stupidly on a filthy sidewalk. The sidewalk is where he lives now. He’s just going to lie down forever.

“No, you’re not,” a voice says from the shadows. Literally from the shadow where the building folds into the pavement. There’s no way it was deep enough to hide someone. The voice is undeniably European and the man who steps out is little more than a tall, dark void. Antti and his murder-eyed buddy don’t seem concerned, but Kevin has had quite enough.

“How fucking many of you are there?” he shrieks without an ounce of dignity. His mouth still tastes foul and bilious, his shoulder is still throbbing faintly, and his hair has just been rubbed in the grimiest street possible. He literally cannot handle any more.

“Rude,” the dark figure comments, almost curiously.

“He’s hurting,” Murder Eyes says quietly and firmly; Kevin decides this is an overture of friendship and he will accept it. Perhaps Murder Eyes will save him from this judgmental void.

“I just fucking want to go home.” He levers himself up, using Antti and holds his arm close so he can’t jar it any further. 

“I’ll take you home,” the dark figure says. “Better get ice on your...” he trails off and looks at Murder Eyes.

“Shoulder. Back of head. Maybe ribs.” He stares at Kevin, who is leaning on Antti. “Ribs.”

Antti hands him off and Kevin trusts him, if no one else. They shared bagels and secrets and that’s a bond of trust. 

He takes the void’s hand and feels the insane sensation of utter inky blackness wrapping itself around him. The darkness unravels just as quickly and then Kevin is staring at his own living room.

“What the fuck?”

“You wanted to go home,” the void says, walking Kevin to the couch and pressing him down. “Now stay put. If Ultraviolet thinks you need ice, you need ice.”

Kevin stays put. He might just sleep on the couch; he’s tired and sore and his bed seems very far away. 

The void perches on his coffee table in front of him and helps him apply the various ice packs. “So what exactly do you do?” He hands him a water bottle, which helps wash the foul taste from his mouth. 

“I’m an analyst,” Kevin says distractedly, trying to wedge an ice pack in the correct place on his back. “Hey, do you have a face? This is really weird.”

“Why would I show you my face?” The void tilts its dark head and Kevin can feel that it is disgruntled. 

“I’ve seen everyone else’s face,” Kevin points out. “And Blue Blaze said you have a moustache. I want to see it.”

The void puts its head in its large void hands. “I’m going to kill them all. How many Superhero Safety seminars can I arrange before they stop unmasking randomly?”

“That’s not fair,” Kevin protests. “It’s not like I added it to their Wikipedia pages.”

“Oh goody,” the void says dryly. “You just go around getting their real names and faces and we just have to trust you and hope no one tortures it out of you.”

Kevin pales slightly at that.

“Seriously, what is it that you analyze? Where do you work?”

“I do risk assessment,” Kevin says slowly. “My firm handles a lot of pre-insurance screenings for companies who are worried about Super damage.”

There’s a pause and then the void laughs at him. “Motherfuck,” the void says, almost in disbelief. The darkness drips away like oil sliding down, to reveal a rather roguish face. “You work in risk assessment and you just wander around the city alone with nothing more than mace? Are you even any good at your job?”

“Hey,” Kevin says, nettled. “I do good work. And I was doing a great job on the personal safety front until some bright blue menace decided to scare the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” the man apologizes and he does seem sincere. He holds out his hand and Kevin takes it in a weak handshake even though his shoulder protests. “I’m Shadow. I’m in charge of this band of idiots and you’re in danger. Tonight is actually the second time someone has come for you.”

“What?” Kevin drops Shadow’s hand.

“Blue Blaze handled the last one. We assumed it was a one-off, just bad luck, but this is looking worse. Is there a reason someone would be after you?”

“No. No, I don’t think so,” Kevin says numbly. He’s coming down from the adrenaline of the evening and he can hardly process anything. 

“Then we have to assume someone saw you with Blue and they’re after our team for some reason.” Shadow shakes his head, dark hair pooled around his shoulders. “Alright. I’m going to collect the team. You need to get some sleep.”