#funer

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He watched mutely, as the pallbearers began carrying each and every member of his family. It was a closed-casket kind of thing so none of the (nosy) mourners got to see the state that each Thunderman was in. He heard some displeased whispers before the ceremony even began but he was just so damn exhausted that he ignored them. 

Those sorts of people were the absolute worst and he already feels bad enough without causing a public scene for the tabloids to have a field day about. He knew there were some photographers and journalists in the (quite huge) crowd (it was one of the reasons why he wanted to have a small, private, funeral but his family was practically celebrities around here so he really had no choice in the matter-) and there was absolutely no need for him to feed them headlines for their next big scoop.

Disgusting.

He marched behind the pallbearers dead-eyed and watched them carefully weave through the twists and turns of the streets. He had wanted to participate in bearing the caskets but considering that five people had died, he felt that it wouldn't have been fair of him to help carry one of the caskets and not all.

When they reached the cemetery, it felt like time itself started slowing down. Things began to get clearer and it was as though reality came crashing down on him because (suddenly-) the grief became that much more palpable and holding back tears started to feel more and more difficult.

Max's chest ached with loss and grief as he watched the people lower down the five caskets 6 feet into the ground. It felt like the universe was hammering in the fact that his family was not coming back. He blinked rapidly as tears streaked their way down his pale cheeks and took a shaky breath. He wanted to look away, he really did, but he felt like he owed it to his family that he sees this through to the end. 

He wouldn't be a coward now. Not when it truly counts.

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People giving you their condolences after the burial of a loved one (or multiple loved ones in this case) felt… awkward.

At this point, he wanted nothing more than to disappear off the face of Earth. He didn't want anything to do with those people (especially since so many have come-) and it showed in the way he stared at every single one of them through hollow eyes. It felt painfully awkward for all those involved but, soon enough, it was over. 

Many people rushed out of the cemetery as the sky darkened ominously and the clouds started packing together. The day had been sunny so far, and the weather forecast declared it a perfectly sunny day, so no one had the foresight to bring along an umbrella and they'd all rather not get wet.

Max didn't care much about that. He simply stood, rooted to his spot, in front of the five graves and stared at them with the intensity of someone who wanted nothing more for them than to disappear. He felt something spark in his chest, but he wasn't sure what it was (nor did he want to know).

Thunder blared loudly, its sound bouncing off the graves in the cemetery. At this point, there was almost no one in the vicinity to hear nature's warning. Only the dead and the boy who was as good as dead.

Eventually, some point after the rain started pouring, Max heard the footsteps of someone approaching. They were light (so obviously; not Blobbin-) and measured in a way that made him know that whoever was approaching him wanted him to know that they were coming. 

Eventually, the footsteps slowed to a stop (next to him). Max felt his curiosity rise (unbidden) from the depths of his body but didn't make a single move to satisfy it. 

"Hello, Max." The mystery person spoke.

Max's eyes widened slightly. That voice…

"President Kickbutt." He stated quietly; sneaking a glance at her from the corner of his eyes. 

The woman simply inclined her head in his direction, not taking her eyes off of the graves.

Max blinked emotionlessly (not really, but he was too damn tired to even think about it-) and turned his gaze towards his family's final resting place, "What brings you here?" He asked quietly.

The woman gave a mirthless puff of laughter, not paying any mind to the rain drenching her, "I never left." She drawled out; enunciating every syllable.

Max felt his brows furrow in confusion, "You didn't…? Why?" He asked, perplexed.

He didn't see the action, but he was about 70% sure that Kickbutt shrugged her shoulders.

"I wanted to talk to you," The President of the Hero League replied easily.

Max pursed his lips as a stab of irrational irritation traveled through his body. He shoved his soaking hands into his equally wet pockets and fully faced her. 

The Superheroine was dressed in a simple black skirt and a formal suit jacket. Her coat, which stopped at her knees just a few inches below her skirt, was also black. And thick. Way too thick for July.

She, for all intents and purposes, looked like she was going to attend a business meeting rather than go to a funeral. He mentally shrugged his shoulders and decided that it didn't matter.

"You wanted to talk to me?" Max snapped in disbelief; a sneer curling on his lip.

"Yes," The woman replied evenly, "I wanted to talk to you." She turned her gaze to him.

Max barked out a humorless laugh and covered his eyes, "Okay…" He bit his lip slightly and nodded to himself, "Okay," He smirked, though his eyes were devoid of joy, and tilted his head, "Let me do you a better one." His smile dropped and he took a step closer to the unflinching woman.

"Why here?" He hissed angrily, "Why now?" He felt his hands, which he had ripped out of his pockets a while ago, curl into fists. He wasn't even sure why he was this irritated. This… angry.

President Kickbutt tilted her head lightly to the side, as she regarded him with something akin to wariness, "This is the only place that you and I can visit at the same time," She replied calmly, "Also, I only have an hour of free time remaining today before I have to go back to my duties and, even then, I probably won't catch a break in a very long time."

Max clenched his jaw and tried his best to calm down. He knew he was being irrational, he knew he shouldn't direct his anger at her, he knew. That didn't stop him from being angry though. 

"Fine," He finally gritted out, "Let us talk. What did you want to say?" He took a few steps back and promptly focused his gaze on the set of five graves that lay in front of him.

President Kickbutt remained silent, and Max felt his irritation spike again. She wanted to talk, didn't she? Why wasn't she talking then?

"I wanted to discuss your options for the future," The woman finally spoke; carefully dragging out her syllables, "And inform you of… a few things about the incident."

Max clenched his eyes briefly as his nostrils flared. Five minutes. Can't he go for five minutes without someone reminding him that he was basically both alone and homeless? That he had no one left for him? That he had nothing?

President Kickbutt, taking his lack of response for what it was, continued, "Blobbin offered you a space with him, didn't he?"

Max frowned despondently, "Yes." He mumbled, his voice barely heard above the rain.

"And did you reply?" Kickbutt asked curiously.

Max pursed his lips, "No. Not yet." He muttered, scuffing his shoe lightly on the muddy ground. 

Kickbutt hummed, "Okay. Are you going to accept?" 

Max shrugged non-committedly, "Maybe, maybe not." 

Kickbutt remained silent.

For a moment, the only sound in the cemetery was the sound of rain hitting the ground and the graves rhythmically. For a moment, Max closed his eyes and imagined a scenario where none of this happened. For a moment, everything was okay. Even if it wasn't.

"...You do realize that you don't have many options beyond that, right?" Kickbutt breathed out, her voice barely reaching Max.

Jarred out of the tantalizing fantasy his mind composed, Max sighed heavily, "Yes. I know."

Kickbutt went silent again.

Max felt a small smile creep on his face as he remembered Dr. Colosso's nickname for the President ('Villains don't respect heroes Maxie!') but, just as quickly as the smile appeared, it fell off his face. Dr. Colosso...

"Hey…" Max gasped out, panic clawing viciously on his guts, and whipped his head towards the (surprised) superheroine, "Dr. Colosso! What happened to him?"

President Kickbutt pursed her lips and turned away from him and that alone was answer enough.

Max felt a fresh wave of grief and loss move through his body and tried to brace himself against the onslaught. Even Colosso hadn't been safe from the attack. Colosso… Colosso was a villain. 

Max clenched his eyes shut as his emotions warred in his chest. The grief that had dulled somewhat in the last few minutes (President Kickbutt unknowingly served as a distraction) returned with a vicious vengeance. His best friend… How did he not think to ask about his one and only friend? 

Colosso- Colosso was the one person who had been there for him through thick and thin. When he was being bullied by the other supe-kids (as his dad had dubbed them.) in school, Colosso was the one to give him advice about dealing with them. When he declared his desire to become a supervillain, Colosso was the only one to not laugh at him. When he first started out as an inventor, Colosso was the first to congratulate him on his inventions (and even gave Max pointers on how to improve them!).

The 15-year-old pressed a shaking hand to his mouth. He had not asked after his (only) friend- he had not searched for his (only) friend- he forgot about his only friend.

Hot tears contrasted heavily with the cold rain as they mixed together on Max's face. Guilt, sadness, grief, horror, loss all swirled around in his being. How could he- how could he-

"Max," He felt someone lay a hand on his shoulder. Max opened his eyes, but did not move his gaze from the ground, nor did he move his hand.

"I wanted to inform you earlier about… the 'doctor's' status," The lady grumbled; her tone turning a bit strange as she pronounced the word 'doctor', "I'm sorry you had to know now, but there was no helping it. Not with the league's condition."

Max nodded slightly and attempted to swallow around the sudden lump that formed in his throat.

"We buried him in the villain cemetery, in case you wanted to know." She said awkwardly.

Max nodded once more as a pang went through his chest. He didn't even attend Colosso's funeral. His best friend must be rolling in his grave by now.

Max carefully removed his hand from his mouth and took a deep, shaky, breath, "Is there… is there anything else that I- That I need to- to know?" He stuttered slightly; his voice cracking in multiple places.

Unfortunately, Kickbutt nodded. The woman was starting to look more and more uncomfortable and it was obvious that whatever news she had left wouldn't be good, "We have evidence that suggests that Dark Mayhem was involved."

Max felt his eyes widen. His grief forgotten for a moment, he turned towards the superheroine, "W-what?" 

The lady looked at him with pity, but Max was too shocked to even feel angry about it, "He- They left a letter. We found it in your room in the basement."

Max felt all blood drain from his face as a violent sense of vertigo threatened to make him keel over. He did stumble, but Kickbutt wasn't a superheroine for nothing. 

"A- A letter?" Max mumbled numbly, "They left a letter?" He rasped in disbelief.

President Kickbutt looked at him with concern, but nodded nonetheless, "Yes. We already read it to make sure it didn't have any… dangerous content, and," The woman paused for a moment and took a deep breath, "It strongly suggested that Dark Mayhem was the one to command the attack on your house."

It was truly a testament to Max's strength that he didn't keel over right then and there. As it is, his head was spinning and it was only Kickbutt's hand gripping his arm that kept him from kissing the muddy ground.

As it is, the 15-year-old blinked heavily and attempted to fight off the dizziness that threatened to steal his senses, "Can I," He began hesitantly as Kickbutt slowly released his arm, "Can I have that letter?" He asked, voice wavering slightly.

The woman considered for a moment... before she nodded, "I don't see why not," She replied honestly, "I'll see to it."

Max nodded slowly, "Thanks." He said with relative sincerity even though his voice sounded as hollow as he felt.

President Kickbutt patted his shoulder. 

No other words were exchanged between them after that.

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