An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Yâall, I finally finished this fic that I started in 2019I If you enjoy time shenanigans, dream magic, or the concept of a were-weasel, this is the fic for you.Â
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Yâall, I finally finished this fic that I started in 2019I If you enjoy time shenanigans, dream magic, or the concept of a were-weasel, this is the fic for you.Â

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Gazing Skyward: Path of a Lightning Bolt
Fair warning to all that this next section does contain violence congruent with a superhero story. DLDR lol
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Part 13
âI did it,â Timo says, sheets rustling faintly as he slips into bed.Â
âHmmm?â Kevin hums sleepily, shifting backwards until he feels Timoâs warmth.Â
âThere was an old lady who had a heart attack.â
âJesus,â Kevin mumbles. âAnd?â
âI managed to get her heart started again. Found the electrical impulse even though it was really weak.â
âHey,â Kevin says warmly, patting Timoâs arm where itâs draped over his waist. âGood work. Erikâs extra trainings must be paying off.â
âBut thatâs not what Iâm trying to tell you,â Timo whines, tucking his nose into the crown of Kevinâs head, his words muffled against Kevinâs hair. âI took your advice.â
âGood for you.â Kevin yawns.
âI made friends,â Timo says carefully, almost bashful.Â
âWith...the old lady?â
âNo, I stuck around and talked to the EMTs who came. Tomas kept her warm.â
âAnd...I gave you that advice?â Kevin cranes his neck back, just to see the faint glow under Timoâs eyes glitter for a moment, a blue blush.
âYou said,â Timo says quietly. âYou said I should show people I have good, um, intentions. That I will help. They said I did a good job. I think they believe now that Iâm good. Maybe I can help more people because you were right. Talking to people matters.â
Kevin clamps down on Timoâs wrist and inhales slowly. âGo get the whiteboard.â He unpeels his grip from Timoâs tense muscles.Â
âWhat?â Timo sounds hurt, but he does as Kevin says, padding across the room to the whiteboard. Kevin rolls over to see him properly as he walks back, haloed in a subdued blue. Timo holds it out, frowning.Â
Kevin takes it and messily clears the slate with his hand, watching a smile grow on Timoâs face. He tosses it to the side heedlessly.
âYeah?â Timo asks, raising an eyebrow as he crawls onto the bed.
âYeah,â Kevin agrees. âI trust you.â
And he does. He barely remembers giving Timo that advice, but he knows it was long before there was any reason for Timo to listen. Not only has Timo put in the time and effort to train his powers, heâs been paying attention to Kevin all along.
Kevin doesnât have the words for how that makes him feel, carved open with pride and love. Instead, he hastily kicks the comforter to the foot of the bed and drags Timo into a greedy kiss.
***
Kevin hasnât been out for a night with his friends in several weeks, but the weatherâs been colder and itâs not unusual for them to take breaks from socializing when work is intense. Dylan and Jake invite him out occasionally, but heâs just made his excuses and theyâve left him alone. Pattyâs been on a bit of a tear lately, pushing them all to finish contract signings, and Kevin still feels a little awkward when they talk. Itâs like thereâs a secondary conversation layered under what theyâre saying, but he canât understand the words.Â
He misses Patty desperately. He didnât realize how much that relationship meant to him until it was suddenly gone. Patty hardly looks at him anymore, even when theyâre face to face in a meeting. The only consolation is that it hasn't trickled down to his team.
The domesticity in his apartment would be a better escape from work if he could forget that his involuntary housemates are there to prevent him from getting attacked by a madman on the loose.Â
Timo takes him to work the most often, but they all change routes frequently just in case. Itâs a long subway ride with Erik some mornings. Kevin watches the tunnel walls flash past the windows and idly asks, âHow come we donât fly?â
The subway car is only half full this early, mostly businessmen on their phones.
Erik glances at him sideways, then shrugs a little. âNot really an option.â
âLike youâre scared of heights?â
âLike I donât fly,â Erik says firmly. âMy powers are strictly terrestrial unless you can come up with a way to make a complete shadow in midair over a city.â
âOh.â Kevin ponders that for a moment. Heâd just assumed, since everyone else seemed permanently stationed about a foot off the floor.
âNow Simmer,â Erik says conspiratorially, as they stand in unison for their stop, âhe hates flying so he just wonât.â
âNo, really?â Kevin leads the way up the subway stairs. âHe can, but he doesnât?â
âHeâs completely competent,â Erik confirms. âBut I donât like the look I get when I ask him to fly, so weâre buddies on the ground.â
Kevin doesnât think heâd argue with Simmer either. âWell, at least youâre not alone?â
Erik snorts. âWith the number of guys underfoot, Iâm never alone. Alright,â he says, pausing in the doorway. âIâll see you later. Tomas is on shift tonight.â
Kevin half-waves as he ducks through the door and Erik disappears into a herd of equally neatly-dressed businessmen.Â
***
They have an office meeting with some of the higher-ups. Kevin doesnât actually have to say anything, he just has to pass Patty the file folders at the correct time while one of the guys in accounting goes through a slideshow about the next quarter.Â
In all honesty, Kevinâs drifting a little, staring out the window. Thereâs a fair amount of dark clouds gathering and it looks like it will rain. Hopefully the route home tonight is not aerial. As much as Kevin has enjoyed flying with Timo, he doesnât think it would be much fun in icy rain. Jake elbows him gently, pulling him back as everyone else stands and does the polite round of handshakes and small talk.
Itâs a good meeting, for a given measure of good. Thereâs nothing particular about their approach to their work or their workload that needs to be altered.Â
He does his share of politely nodding and shaking hands and then gathers the files for Pat and takes them down to the file room. Storing things this way is a bit archaic, but having digital and physical files has been helpful. You never really know when a power outage will hit, Super-induced or not, and you canât lose data with the physical file.
Thinking of power outages makes Kevin think of storms, which naturally leads back to Timo. Heâs been distracted lately, but heâs been happy. Even before they retired the whiteboard, Kevin was thinking it might be time to introduce Timo to his friends and coworkers. He hasnât gone out with them for a beer in a while and it would be nice to take Timo to their local bar.Â
Heâs still daydreaming about Timo, smiling faintly when he almost runs Tim over in the hallway.
âOh,â Tim says mildly. âI was looking for you.â
âSorry, I had to return the files. Whatâs up?â
âIT had a question and I couldnât answer it so they want you.â They step into the elevator together and Tim presses the button for the sub-basement.Â
âWrong floor, bud.â IT has an office in the first basement level, with a few roaming tech guys throughout the building. Kevin didnât think Tim could get lost between floors, but the dude is severely directionally challenged.
When Kevin moves to press the button for the basement, Tim waves him off. âNo, theyâve got a guy down there working on wiring. He wants to ask some questions about project specs and bandwidth. Nabby said it should be quick.â
âAlright.â Nabbyâs always helpful when Kevin needs a hand and Kevin doesnât have anything urgent to do, so he might as well give Nabbyâs guy a hand. It probably wonât be quick because Kevinâs never met an IT guy who could speak plainly, but thatâs okay. He wonders if Nabby managed to persuade the higher ups to hire another Russian. At some point, they are all going to have to learn Russian just to get tech support.
Kevin steps into the cold sub-basement and walks down the hall to the few offices they have down here, though theyâre largely unused. He can hear Timâs footsteps echoing on the smooth, unfinished concrete floor behind him and he turns to ask where exactly theyâre supposed to meet this IT guy.
Except Timâs gone. In his place is a hulking creature of rough stone. Kevin backs up hastily, but heâs too slow and the creature closes the distance before he can even scream. A cold, jagged hand covers his mouth, pushing him back into the wall hard, and then thereâs nothing but darkness.
It feels like being drowned, crushing pressure so painful he thinks he might die. He canât breath or see or think, every pounding heartbeat in his temples growing softer as he gets dizzy from the lack of oxygen.Â
Distantly, he feels himself fall face first, hitting the ground with a shattering noise despite trying to catch himself on literally anything. He inhales desperately, blinking tears away in the low light. He can feel how the cement has split from his collarbones to his hips, cracks just enough for him to breathe shallowly. Thereâs still cement on his face, covering his mouth and part of his nose and cheek where the creature had grabbed him. His eyes and scalp seem blessedly unscathed, but anything that came in contact with the creature has hardened to stone, thin dress clothes an inadequate protection against Super powers.
He can feel his head pounding from the lack of air and he breathes very deliberately. If he inhales too hard the skin between the cement adhered to him pulls painfully, but if he exhales all the way, the plates of cement pinch his skin in the cracks. When he blinks again, there are boots in front of him.Â
He whimpers behind his cement gag when one of the boots makes contact with his shoulder to flip him over onto his back. Haloed against a lantern light, a man with a short bushy beard stares down at him. The pale ginger hair glints in the flickering light.Â
âWho do you work for?â the man asks, more curious than accusatory.
Kevin doesnât bother trying to answer. The man snaps his fingers impatiently and Tim steps over, looking perfectly normal. He taps Kevinâs mouth, none too gently, and Kevin feels the cement split across the seam of his lips.
âWho do you work for?â The man squats down, looming over Kevin. Tim wanders out of sight.
Kevin canât think straight, dazed and confused. No amount of adrenaline could save him from whatever is happening here. âCity Unified Data Administration,â he mumbles, slurring the words together.
The man catches his jaw and shakes him, ignoring his yelp of pain. âDonât be stupid. Who do you work for?â
âMr. Plattner?â Kevin tries again, feeling the cement jab and tear at his mouth.Â
Something viscous and bright green drips from the corners of the manâs eyes, a sickening parody of tears. Kevin can feel his head swimming and his stomach turning. Whatever the man says next is lost to him as he tries to keep from throwing up.Â
He drops his gaze and when he looks back, the manâs face is entirely clear, watching him avidly. âI dân know what you want,â Kevin manages to eke out when the pressure inside his skull abates.Â
The man rolls his eyes. âWell, if you insist.â He smiles and it is perturbingly even and pleasant. âIt would have been nice to know, but it doesnât matter. Youâre just here to be the bait anyway. Chum, as it were,â he laughs, apparently amused by himself. âYou sit tight, bud.â
He walks out of Kevinâs view and Kevin canât quite move enough to see where heâs gone.
It doesnât take long for Tim to show up again. He grabs one of Kevinâs ankles and unceremoniously drags him across the floor. As Kevin lifts his head enough to keep it from bouncing on the ground, he catches sight of where he is. Itâs some kind of boathouse; it looks like itâs on the bay based on the water lapping at the edges. Tim drags him to a corner by the opening and pours cement over his lower legs, pinning him to the wooden boards of the side deck.Â
âYou can scream,â Tim offers blandly. âPatrick would hate that. Might make this all go faster.â
Kevinâs heart goes cold. They want to hurt Patty for some reason. Theyâre going to use him to hurt Patty.Â
Tim takes a picture of him with a phone, flash too bright. Kevin winces too hard, curling away from the sudden light, and has to catch his breath when his neck stings. Tim leaves him there, helplessly flat on his back like a bug. Despite his lightheadedness he resolves to fight back somehow, to try and stop them from hurting Patty. He doesnât have his phone. He knows exactly where it is, top right corner of his desk, a place so far away now that it might as well be on Mars. He canât call for help.
Still, he has to try something. Find a weapon of some sort, maybe a big rock, and try to hurt them enough that Patty doesnât get hurt.Â
The first step is to get free.
He takes stock of his own body. Thereâs cement all down his front with hardened bands across his back from where Timâs arms reached around him. His ankles canât move, trapped as they are, but his hands are mostly free. His left thumb and the edge of his palm has some cement on it, but itâs not particularly restrictive even though it is uncomfortable.Â
He scans the boathouse. Thereâs an industrial skylight set into the roof, dusty from lack of use. He can see the darkening sky above, nighttime and a storm both swiftly approaching. Thereâs a lantern close to the door, bright enough that Kevinâs corner is not in complete shadow. Thereâs no boat in the water, just an empty dock.Â
In order to get out, he has to get past the Supers somehow. He canât go into the water with heavy cement on him and he certainly canât make it into the rafters. So, through the front door it is. He just needs an opening.
He can only curl his upper body a little to watch the Supers, gingerly holding his torso still so he doesnât stab himself in the neck or groin with the edge of one of the cement pieces stuck to him. Theyâre sitting at a small table by the door and he can hear them talking but he canât make out the words.
Theyâre both so unremarkable. They look perfectly average, the same kind of background people Kevin passes on the subway or at the local bar. Or in his own office.Â
Theyâre ignoring him for the moment, but now Kevin worries that there are more of them out there, waiting to hurt Patty. He doesnât know why they want to use him to help trap Patty, but the sooner he gets free, the better.
He tries to pull on his legs to crack the cement or reach down with his hands, but he canât do much. Unlike the thin pieces adhered to his torso, the block on his ankles is thick and solid.
All he can do is wait, breathing shallowly and watching rain start to patter on the broad skylight.Â
Eventually, the sound of the rain on the water drowns out even the quiet conversation between the Supers.
Kevin aches from neck to knee, bruised and sore from the concrete wrapped all around him, digging into his ribs and pinching the tender skin by his hip bones. His mouth is burning from the constant scabbing and reopening of the wounds, every exhalation lighting his lips on fire. He reaches up one hand to gingerly touch the corner of his mouth, where the concrete is digging in the most. He can feel the abnormal slickness on his fingertips, blood accumulating at the edges of the jagged concrete digging into his mouth.Â
He holds his hand up to the lantern light, stomach lurching when he sees the way the blood has seeped under his fingernails. He drops his hand over the edge of the dock, letting the icy water wash away the evidence.Â
Breathing is getting harder, the concrete feeling heavier and heavier. His muscles are starting to burn as he tries to breathe so slowly and carefully; he thinks ruefully that heâd have spent more time at the rink if he realized his cardio was going to be life or death.
He focuses on the sound of the distant thunder, the slosh of the waves brushing against the dock. He keeps clenching his muscles to try and keep blood flowing, but the cold is getting to him. He feels slow, like the cold has sunk into his brain. Thereâs a strange sensation, like sinking below the surface of the water for just a moment, and he startles, jumping slightly. But the rain on the glass hasnât changed above him and the wooden dock is still worn smooth under his fingertips.
Thereâs a flash of blue-white lightning and an incredible crashing noise; Kevin flinches as the long skylight explodes into thousands of pieces, glass shrapnel flying everywhere. He brings his arms up a second too late, clumsily trying to shield himself, and screams when a wet hand comes out of the water and clutches his arm.
He lowers his arm slowly, heartbeat rabbiting. The dark man coming up out of the water next to him smiles. âYouâre safe. Iâve got you.â He gestures to the side, dripping slightly.Â
âWho are you?â Kevin tries to lean away, craning his neck up. None of the glass hit him and he knows better than to believe in coincidences, especially when thereâs a clear semicircle of glittering shards piled around his body.
âWard. Iâm here to keep you safe.â
Kevin assesses him for a fraction of a second and finds him to be the least of his worries. He looks past him, looks for Timo. He knows that lightning, that afterburn brightness when he blinks. He could almost cry when he sees Timo there, lightning flashing against a concrete wall where there was previously no wall at all. Timo leaves that electricity flowing and turns to him; though his face is masked in blue light, Kevin knows heâs searching for him and he tries to sit up, to call to him.
Wardâs hand comes down on his shoulder as the lightning arcs towards Kevin, seeking him like a searchlight. It illuminates whatever barrier is around them, some bubble that does not warp or bend to the force Timo is using. âHey, relax,â Ward says. âI wonât let him hurt you. We have people on the way to handle The Captain and they can take care of this too.â
âThatâs my boyfriend,â Kevin snaps. âHeâs not going to hurt me.â He wipes blood away carelessly, every word agitating the cuts around his mouth. âAnd I donât know anything about you. Heâll take care of me.â
âThatâs your...boyfriend?â
âLet me talk to him,â Kevin insists, trying to sit up.Â
âDonât move,â Ward says, frowning. âYouâre gonna hurt yourself.â
âHeâs gonna get hurt! Youâre distracting him. Fucking Tim is gonna get an advantage!â
âTim?â Wardâs hands are gentle as he tests the concrete on Kevinâs chest.Â
âCoworker. Kidnapped me to hurt Patty. My boss.â
âPattyâs fine,â Ward says gently. Heâs interrupted by a lavender haze at Kevinâs feet, floating up through the boards. The lightning on the other side of the bubble ceases for a moment and Kevin can see again, the destructive force of the lightning on concrete evident.Â
Simmerâs face flickers into view as he pushes himself up through the boards and Kevin has never felt so happy to see him looking thoroughly unhappy. Ward raises a hand, quick as can be, and itâs only Kevin grabbing frantically at his wrist that throws his aim off. Simmer swears vociferously when a bubble traps one hand, but it seems better than the alternative of having the bubble hit his face.Â
âStop,â Kevin hisses.Â
âThis one canât be your boyfriend too.â Ward says with a sigh, not looking away from Simmer for a moment. He doesnât shake Kevin off though, lowers his hand carefully.Â
âGod no,â Simmer grunts. âJust here to keep him safe while Blue Blaze fucks shit up.â
âOkay,â Ward agrees slowly. He waves his hand and pops the bubble trapping Simmer. âCommon purpose then. Can you, by any chance, get him unstuck from this dock?â
âYes.â
âGreat. Iâm going to let my team know we have non-hostile Supers here so theyââ whatever Ward was going to say is cut off by Jumbo ripping the front door and a good part of the wall straight out just as a fireball lands explosively in the middle of the boathouse.
Kevin grabs Ward again. âTell them. Heâs good. Theyâre helping. Donât hurt them.â
Ward fumbles for some small black device and Kevin doesnât hear a word he says because the giant hole in the wall Jumbo left is suddenly widened by Bigfoot. Even Simmer jumps a little at the noise, but he stays focused on where his hands are sinking through the concrete to Kevinâs ankles. Itâs very quiet, but the block of concrete is suddenly not tethered to the dock.
âOkay, I need to immobilize him,â Ward says to Simmer, completely ignoring Kevin. Thereâs that sensation of sinking into water again, rising tides around his face, but it stops. He canât move, but itâs somehow softening the pinching feeling when he tries to breathe.Â
âYouâre okay,â Ward says and Kevin really does believe him. He has a very open and kind face, strangely unworried by what is happening outside of this bubble, though Kevin can still hear the crashing noises. âIâm going to try and keep this from causing permanent damage. When the room is clear weâll call for emergency services and theyâll take care of you from there.â
âNo,â Simmer says severely. âNot waiting.â
âI canât get a bubble between his skin and this hard material without risking serious blood loss,â Ward says evenly. âIâm just trying to stabilize him until real help arrives.â
âIâm the help,â Simmer says. âCan we get him out of here? I have to take this off.â Heâs staring Ward down in his usual unnerving way, some urgency that Kevin doesnât understand.
Ward frowns and then nods. âI can try.â
âWe need to be somewhere safe and someone needs to hold him down.â
âWould another person holding him help?â
âYes,â Simmer agrees. âLess movement is safer.â
âOkay. Paulie will get us out of here if you really think you can help. Hold on.â
âHold on?â Kevin asks nervously, wishing he could move to look at Ward. He feels like the blood around his mouth is drying, stiffening. He hopes the scabbing is a good sign.
âYouâll be fine. I recommend, uh...â
âUltraviolet,â Simmer says briefly.
âUltraviolet, you sit down. Weâre not going through the door.â
Kevin canât convey how much he wants to know whatâs happening with Timo, how frustrating it is that he canât see. He closes his eyes as they move, the weathered rafters of the boathouse giving way to open sky. Heâs feeling sick enough as it is without adding motion sickness.
The bubble is softening the pinching pain in his ribs, but heâs still breathing shallowly, trying to stay focused on what he can feel. Itâs hard to feel present in the silence, nothing to grasp but the ragged sound of his own breath. He categorically refuses to pass out like a damsel in distress. He reminds himself that when he was fourteen he broke his ankle and he didnât pass out or cry in front of his friends. Whatâs some slow breathing to a broken ankle?
âHey, Kevin,â Ward says, ârelax. I need you to stay still while we move you.â
Kevin squints, hoping theyâve stopped moving in such a dizzying way. Simmer and Wardâs faces have been joined by another, haloed by the dark night and the rain sliding over the unnatural bubble. The raindrops catch the light just enough that Kevin can see all three men clearly. The unknown man is wearing a dark plaid and heâs shockingly pale in contrast to Ward, face shrouded by a ginger beard.Â
âPaul,â he says quietly. âYou might know me as The Lumberjack, but some people nicknamed me Paul Bunyan.â He steps closer. âWardo, keep the bubble. Weâll lift him.â
Paul takes Kevinâs wrists carefully and instructs him to just clasp his hands together over his stomach. He slips his hands under Kevinâs head and shoulders and lifts up and Kevin assumes Simmer has his other half because he can tell heâs being raised up. It seems like theyâre on the beach by the docks, based on the streetlights Kevin can see. When they set him down on the long slope of sand to the sea, he can tell he was right.
âOkay, whatâs next?â Ward asks. âIâm trusting that you have a plan.â
âCut everything off of him that we can,â Simmer says steadily. âThen Iâll remove whatâs stuck while you hold him still.â
âI have a knife,â Paul says. He reaches to his waist and pulls out a folding knife easily. âMy apologies,â he murmurs to Kevin as he starts peeling Kevinâs shirt into ribbons, leaving the concrete-saturated pieces in place.Â
âAny chance,â Kevin half-wheezes, âyou can spare the belt? Itâs new.â
âNot a chance,â Paul says, deftly moving down Kevinâs body, almost out of his sight. âOh, good news: your choice of boxers over briefs saved you a hell of a lot of trouble. Nothing sticking there!â
Kevin huffs a weak laugh at that. Small mercies when heâs being stripped on a public beach. Heâs grateful for whatever bubble is around him, protecting him from irritating grains of sand. Itâs not warm in the bubble, so apparently Ward canât change the temperature of a stormy night, but at least the rain isnât falling on his increasingly nude body.
âOkay,â Simmer says. âWe start here.â He points at Kevinâs chest. âThis has to be very...very careful. Donât let him move.â
âOkay.â Ward places his hands on Kevinâs shoulders, barely noticeable through the strange dullness of the bubble. âIâll expose sections as you work on them, but I want to keep the edges blunted so he can still breathe without slicing himself up.â
Paul straddles Kevinâs hips gingerly and places one hand on Kevinâs stomach, a strangely heavy weight.
âYou can hold him?â Simmer asks skeptically.
âIâm stronger than I look,â Paul says dryly.
Simmer nods slightly in acknowledgement. âPin his left hand.â As Paul leans into him, Simmer takes Kevinâs right hand and wraps it around Simmerâs thigh where he kneeling next to Kevin. âWhile I work, no breathing,â he says sternly. âIf you need to breathe, squeeze and Iâll stop.â
âOkay.â
âReady? Hold your breath.â
Kevin holds his breath, going very still. He watches Wardâs face above him for a sign of how things are going. He can feel his lungs starting to ache when Simmer says, âDone.â He holds up a fragment the size of a quarter.Â
Kevinâs heart sinks at how long this is going to take.Â
âAgain,â Simmer says.Â
Kevin holds his breath. He closes his eyes hard, but Ward says his name. âStay with me, Kevin. I need to see how youâre holding up.â
When Simmer gives him the go ahead to breath again, Kevin holds his hand up, asking for just a moment. Paul takes the time to cut away the fabric where it has been exposed. Kevin blinks at Ward, a little dazed. âYou know my name.â
âYeah,â Ward says, looking a little worried. âWe came looking for you. Patty sent us.â
âOh.â
âDonât have time,â Simmer says.
Whatever heâs pointing at is enough for the other two to agree, pinning Kevin again. They shift as Simmer works, holding him down as close as they can to the spot Simmer is clearing. Kevin is lasting shorter and shorter amounts of time between breaks.Â
He realizes why theyâre trying to move fast very suddenly when Paul leans on his sternum to hold him in place and he screams involuntarily. His mouth fills with blood and they wonât let him curl up into the fetal position like his instincts demand. Paul moves back immediately, but Kevin canât see much through the sudden haze of tears.
Someone turns his head to the side slowly, stroking along his hairline as he tries to breathe again, blood dripping down so far that Kevin can feel it on the skin under his ear where the concrete isnât covering him.Â
âIâm sorry,â Simmer says miserably, right at Kevinâs side. âYou have burns.â
âThis left some kind of chemical burn,â Paul explains urgently from some distance. âWe need to get it off. Itâs going to hurt, but if we donât do it now, you will have nerve damage.â
âUltraviolet was right,â Ward says. âWe canât wait.â
Kevin flails for Simmer, finds his hand blindly and squeezes hard. âLike the egg. Do it.â
Thereâs a beat and then Simmer repeats, âLike the egg.â
âGo,â Kevin grits out. âIâm ready.â
He holds his breath and waits for that excruciating burning pressure again. Heâs braced for it so he doesnât scream, but he canât stop the tears.Â
Through the blur he can see the flashing lights in the distance, the colors that show him that Timo is still fighting. He thinks he sees Melkerâs red and Anttiâs green too.
He floats a little, breathing only when heâs told. He thinks the cold might actually be a blessing, something to numb his skin where it feels like lava has been injected into his nerves.Â
Strong hands grip his face and Kevin stares up at Paul.
âThisâll be the worst of it, I expect,â he says. âCan he breathe for this?â He looks over to Simmer.
âWhen I clear his mouth, yes.â He raises his hands, glittering purple, and hovers over Kevinâs face. âEyes closed for this, please. Hold your breath.â
He works fast and although it leaves Kevin feeling like someone rubbed his face on a pile of rubble doused in acid, heâs grateful to no longer feel the phantom pressure of Timâs hand on his face. He tests moving his jaw slightly and then absolutely stops doing that because it hurts like hell.
âYou can breathe,â Simmer says, sounding calmer. Kevin hadnât realized until now how tense Simmer was; he didnât know heâd gotten to a point where he could even interpret Simmerâs tone.
He makes quick work of Kevinâs cheek and the edges of his nose while Kevin breathes through his mouth. Either the layer of dried blood or some bubble is making breathing hurt his mouth less.Â
Simmer moves his way through Kevinâs extremities, first his hand and then his ankles and feet. Based on Paulâs approving noises, the protection from his leather shoes was decent. Kevinâs chest burns so much that he can hardly even register sensation elsewhere, so itâs helpful to have someone elseâs perspective.
âThe last bit is on his back,â Ward says. âMoving is going to hurt no matter what. How should we brace him.â
âAre you cold?â Paul asks, hand on Kevinâs forearm.Â
He nods a little. Itâs cold and it feels like itâs getting colder. The bubble around him only helps so much.Â
âWardo, bubble this.â Paul slips out of his flannel and holds it out. Ward waves a hand over it and it looks almost shiny in the low light. Paul works one of Kevinâs hands into the flannel, slipping it on him backwards. Ward does the same for his other arm so the flannel covers his arms and front. Whatever Ward did made it so the fabric doesnât stick to his raw skin. Itâs a weird sensation, all slick, but at least heâs not getting painful goosebumps on top of everything else.Â
âCome here.â Paul leans in and makes Kevin wrap his arms around Paulâs neck and then pulls him forward. It hurts and Kevinâs vision goes slightly grey for a moment. When his vision clears, heâs well-braced against Paulâs shoulder, facing down the dark beach. He lets his head rest on Paul, but heâs uncomfortably aware that heâs leaving blood on Paulâs white undershirt. Behind him, he feels several hands cutting away whatâs left of his shirt. Thereâs not much stuck to his back, compared to the front, but itâs enough that Kevin thoroughly curses Tim.Â
âLast piece,â Simmer says. âIf you need to breathe, pat his back and heâll say stop. Donât breathe now.â
Kevin holds still, a pine scent lingering even as he stops breathing. He can feel the way Paul has stopped breathing too, a matter of practicality that feels like solidarity.
He watches the lights flashing by the docks, wonders why no one has come to investigate. He doesnât even know how late it is, too full of adrenaline for his own fatigue level to have any meaning.
Thereâs an explosion of light, and then the sound rolls down the beach a second later, and Kevin gasps, clawing at Paulâs back. The conflagration stands out against the dark night, whateverâs left of the boathouse rapidly turning to smoke.Â
âWe have to go now,â Ward says, but Kevin barely hears him. He keeps trying to move, to run or walk or crawl to where Timo was.
âIâll take him,â Paul says, chest rumbling against Kevin as he holds him tightly. âYou go!â
Kevin knows Ward is gone because the bubble pops around them and the rain is pouring down on his back suddenly, drenching him in a freezing shower. Simmer takes off, a purple blur, leaving Kevin behind.
Paul shifts Kevin easily, standing with him and the sudden heavy contact without the barrier of the bubble is too much. Kevin feels the white flash of pain and then he feels nothing at all.
Gazing Skyward: Path of a Lightning Bolt
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Part 3
The Monday morning commute brings some much needed fun after a weekend where all Kevin managed to do was buy groceries and watch shitty tv. Heâs walking to the subway when a dark shadow falls over him and a deep voice growls, âGood morning, Kevin.â
He glances up from where heâs texting Dylan about grabbing lunch today and sees Bigfoot. âOh, hey, good morning. Off to work?â
Bigfoot laughs and Kevin thinks thereâs a smile behind all that hair. âOn duty already. New Jersey Devil chews off a piece of a bridge and I get called in to help push out the police perimeter.â
âOh shit, yeah, I donât want to get eaten. How far does the perimeter go?â
âTheyâre moving it out to twenty blocks. Your station is definitely out of bounds.â Kevin groans. Thatâs going to make a huge mess of traffic. Indeed, down the block, Kevin can see fledgling Supers working in tandem. Bear is moving pedestrians while Whitecloud herds a few cars along gently. âSome people are just going home, but I know a few of you have to get to work. I can take you around the long way faster.â
âSure,â Kevin agrees. âAny chance you can drop me down the block instead of at work? Todayâs my day to bring in breakfast and I wanted to get some bagels.â
Giant, shaggy shoulders shrug. âNo problem.â He slowly reaches down and Kevin lifts his arms so Bigfoot can just pick him up. Itâs always weird to be encased in a giant hand, but it is more comfortable with his arms free.
âHey,â a voice says sharply. âLeave him alone!â
Kevin blinks in surprise. Blue Blazeâs lightning is less prominent in the sunshine, but heâs fully glowing. It hides his face and shows the giant crackling ball of energy raised over his head.
Heâs thankful Bigfoot isnât given to fits of jumpiness because his hand doesnât move at all. âJust moving him away from the hot zone, bud. You have a problem with that?â
Kevin shivers a little at the timbre of his voice, but gamely waves at Blue Blaze. âItâs okay. Heâs a friend from work.â
Blue Blaze shifts in the air, looking uncomfortable, but he does put away the ball of lightning.
âIf youâre itching to fight,â Bigfoot says much more pleasantly, âthereâs a Devil on the bridge and Iâm sure Jumbo would love the help.â
Blue Blaze hesitates, but eventually drifts away, moving much more slowly than Kevinâs seen yet.
âWhyâs Jumbo on bridge duty?â
âPR,â Bigfoot complains. âWe have to take turns being big and smashy in public.â
Kevin laughs at that, holding on carefully when Bigfoot sets him atop one broad shoulder. They end up picking up quite a few more people headed to the business district. One woman actually works at the bagel shop Kevin is headed for and they chat as Bigfoot lopes along.
Kevinâs one of the last to get dropped off, but he has enough time to grab an assortment of bagels. He steps outside the bakery and Bigfoot is still standing there. âBagel?â he offers a bit stupidly.
âOh, no. Iâm a carnivore.â Bigfoot shrugs casually.
Kevin keeps his thought about how terrifying that is to himself. âOh. Okay.â
âCome on,â Bigfoot says and Kevin gets the distinct sense Bigfoot is laughing at him. âMight as well take you all the way.â
He scoops Kevin up and lets him sit cross legged in one broad palm. Itâs only a few giant strides to his building and Bigfoot bends down slightly to peer at the windows. âSixth floor?â
âYes?â
Bigfoot taps a large finger very delicately against a window frame. The window opens inwards and Bigfoot slides Kevin in carefully.
His boss stares at him, having hastily stepped back so Kevin wouldnât land on him. âGood morning.â
âHi, Pat, sorry. Devil on the bridge this morning and Bigfoot offered to take me in.â
âHow nice,â Patty says. âNo, no,â he waves Kevin off, âIâll get the window. You take those bagels to the staff room and save me a cinnamon raisin one.â
âTell him thanks again,â Kevin calls as he jogs out of the corner office.
The tv is on as usual in the break room and his coworkers are ambling around, getting their morning coffee and clocking in.
âI got bagels!â he announces as he slides in.
Thereâs a quiet cheer as people gather around the table and rummage through the box. He grabs an everything bagel for himself and a cinnamon raisin one for Patty.
âOkay,â Noah says, turning away from Dylan and pointing at Kevin. âIs the New Jersey Devil always on fire, or is this new?â
Kevin peers at the tv screen and winces as Jumbo gets knocked into the river briefly and then gets up again to punch the Devil. âHeâs usually on fire but itâs very...black and red? I donât think heâs usually on fire and blue.â
âThatâs what I said,â Noah says triumphantly. âAnd Jumboâs power is to get huge, not set people on fire.â
âBut why would a superhero set someone on fire if they were already on fire?â Dylan argues pointedly. âMaybe itâs another supervillain boosting the Devilâs powers.â
Kevin takes a closer look. Thereâs definitely a blue glow around the Devilâs flames. Hard to say whether itâs Blue Blaze, though. The city is full of colorful Supers.
The fire trucks arrive out of frame on the tv and extinguish the Devil long enough for Jumbo to grab him. Kevin shakes his head and takes his bagel to his desk. He has work to do if he wants to be able to actually enjoy his full lunch.
Series titled âBrian on Bench at Six Flagsâ






