#not shadowverse

“Hey.” He grabs at a random spectator, who starts and turns. “D'you know what happened here?”

“No? Do you?”

Keith leaves without answering, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. There’s a police line set up–he hops over it, to a few shouts before the cops recognize him.

“Flamethrower!” one addresses him. “We need you to try to contact Cheshire.”

Keith runs a hand through his hair in agitation. “I can’t, that’s why I’m here. What the hell happened?” He gestures at the museum. “The Emperor’s dead!”

“We’re not sure yet,” the officer says, then steps in and lowers his voice. “It looks like it might’ve been The Witch, or a wannabe.”

His blood runs cold. The Witch disappeared after The Emperor’s defeat; she was assumed dead, but he’d seen her not long after. He’d thought she’d gone to ground, left the country–was lying low, not pulling stunts like this. It hasn’t been /that/ long.

“What’d she do?” he asks, forcing calm into his voice, though his posture is anything but. 

“Besides the obvious? Cheshire and Permafrost are missing.” The officer lays a gentle hand on his shoulder, but at Keith’s look, thinks the better of it and retracts it quickly. “We found no bodies, just evidence of a fight, so they must be still alive…”

“They were taken,” Keith concludes.

Shit. The Witch is back, and she has Cheshire.

“We don’t know for sure yet. If you have any way to contact either of them–”

“I don’t,” Keith says, “but Paladin might, and I know where to find him.” He starts off, leaping back over the police barrier and throwing a quick “Thanks!” over his shoulder.

There’s no time to go home and change, but he ducks into an alley and takes off his mask and jacket, tucking the former into the latter and folding it into a small bundle, and hopes that’ll be surreptitious enough. He hops on the subway and heads off down to the university.

Shiro never responded to Keith’s texts, which means he’s probably teaching, which means Keith is walking up and down a hallway in the history department looking through the door windows and hoping that they let newbie professors actually teach in-department instead of sending them to random lecture halls halfway across campus. If that’s the case, he’ll have a long search ahead of him.

He jogs up the stairs and checks his phone again. Still no answer, but on his newsfeed there’s a headline confirming The Witch’s return. Shit, they must’ve found some evidence–he speeds up down the hall.

Almost to the end of the second floor hallway, he double-takes at a doorway; yep, that’s Shiro. He practically collides with the door, stumbling through, and Shiro’s lecture comes to an abrupt halt as he catches his breath.

Shit, Keith doesn’t know Permafrost’s real name. And he can’t mention Permafrost by name without blowing Shiro’s cover. Shiro’s staring at him blankly, shit, say something!

“Your boyfriend,” Keith gasps, and Shiro goes pale.

“We’ll, ah, continue this next class,” he says quickly, gathering up his materials in his arms without so much as stuffing them into his bag before crowding Keith out of the room. They leave the murmuring class behind.

“I assume it’s an emergency,” Shiro says tightly, leading him to the nearest staircase and up. Keith glances around, and lowers his voice, though the stairwell is definitely empty.

“The Witch is back,” he says, and Shiro stumbles over a step and drops several books in the process. Keith ducks to pick them up quickly.

“What?”

“The Witch is back. And Cheshire and Permafrost went missing together.”

“Shit,” Shiro mutters. “That’s… I have my costume in my office, I…” Another book slips free of his grip as they step out onto the third floor, and Keith realizes he’s shaking.

“Hey,” he says, picking up the book and jogging to catch up. “They’re alive, you know. It’s only been a few hours. She doesn’t kill…” Right away, he finishes silently, but it doesn’t seem like something that would make Shiro feel any better. It certainly doesn’t make Keith feel better.

Shiro stumbles into a room that must be his office and dumps everything in his arms onto the sagging couch there. Keith deposits the books there too.

“Why aren’t you freaking out too?” Shiro breathes. He’s dragging a hand through his hair and taking deep, measured breaths.

“I did on the way here,” Keith says, as he looks around the tiny room. It’s true, too; he tried to keep it subtle, but considering it was on the subway, probably no one noticed either way.

“Alright,” says Shiro. “Alright. We can do this. I know The Witch.”

So does Keith, but he’s not going to mention that.

“But we can’t do this alone.” Shiro sheds his button-up shirt and shrugs on Paladin’s jacket instead. “We need to go find Tinkertoy.”

If he’s going out, though, he’s going out fighting. He digs his heels into the soggy grass, searching for traction that isn’t there, and starts running.

Almost immediately he’s struck by her lightning. It feels like a punch to the chest–no, harder, like being hit by a car, and he swears his heart stutters in its beat. He’s on the ground before he’s registered that he’s even falling. Pain courses through him, his hands are numb, he can’t even feel his legs. The rain is falling down his throat, up his nose, and he chokes.

He pushes himself up on shaking arms, coughing weakly. The Witch is lifting her hands for another attack.

Shit. Killed by his own mother.

He groans and rolls up onto his knees. At least like this the rain falls on the back of his head so he doesn’t feel like he’s drowning anymore.

The ground shudders a bit then, and suddenly he’s yanked sharply sideways; he coughs and struggles in someone’s grip, trying to twist around to see. It’s Hunk–and the bolt of lightning that’d been aimed at him has hit a sapling that definitely wasn’t there before.

“Pidge,” he chokes.

“She’s fine,” Hunk says, and unceremoniously drops him back in the mud. Keith hears his quick, squelching footsteps head off somewhere in the opposite direction of the falling tree.

“Hey!” Hunk shouts. “HEY! OVER HERE!”

Keith rolls onto his butt in the mud–and immediately flops back to let the next bolt of lightning pass right over him. Okay. Okay. He’s alive, Pidge is alive. What the hell is Hunk doing.

“HEY!” Hunk shouts again, and Keith sits up again to see a branch flying in The Witch’s general direction. “Don’t forget about me, you–you jerk!”

“You’re nothing,” The Witch hisses, but she turns. 

“No, Hunk,” Keith groans. God, what’s he doing? It’s not too late for him, at least, to get out alive.

Something prods at his hip, and he looks down. Something sprouting. He looks back but the movement sends pain shooting through his body, he can’t see Pidge from here. The message is clear, though; get moving.

Hunk is still shouting, so he must be still alive. Hell, maybe they have a plan. Okay. Keith can play along.

He starts crawling towards the tree.

It’s a hard slog, dragging himself through the mud when he can barely move or feel his limbs. He focuses on moving one hand, one leg at a time; he only knows he’s reached Lance because the ground is suddenly hard and cold beneath his fingers. He looks up. The man is lying there, still pinned by the branch; his eyes are closed and his skin pale, but he’s still breathing, one arm flung across his face to shield it from the relentless downpour. His thigh is encased in ice.

“Frosty,” Keith gasps. “Hey, Frosty. Lance. You alive?”

“Yeah,” Lance says immediately, muffled, with a wince and a cough. “Where’s Shiro?”

“Dunno. Working on it. You good?”

Lance snorts. Yeah, fair. Keith crawls on past him, dragging himself through the fallen branches.

“Shiro?” he calls. “Shiro!”

“’M alive,” comes a weak call from within, and Keith lets out a deep sigh of relief.

“Okay?”

“Heavy. ’M okay, can’t move though. My arm.”

Right, his arm was hit. His power might be super strength but if he’s only got the one arm…

Okay. Time to get up.

Keith gets a grip on the branches and pulls himself up on numb, unsteady legs. The rain is thick but he waves in the general direction of Pidge and hopes she can see him. He points firmly upward, several times, then starts making his way back out of the branches.

He hears the groaning of the tree before he turns to see the dozens of saplings sprouting beneath it. Okay. As long as Pidge holds up, that’s taken care of. Time to go help Hunk.

“He’s alive,” he says as he passes Lance. His feet grow steadier beneath him as feeling returns to them.

“Oh thank god,” says Lance.

Hunk is still okay–he’s dodging every bolt The Witch throws at him. She’s absolutely seething. Hell, he might actually be able to get in close, if he’s fast enough.

Too bad he can’t run yet. And who knows how long it’ll take for him to recover…

Hm. He turns back to Lance.

“Power still working, Frosty?”

Lance turns his head and gives him a look. “Duh.”

“I gotta get across the lawn. Fast.”

Lance blinks. Then he gives Keith a crooked grin.

“Gotcha,” he says, and sinks his hand into the mud. Keith takes a step back, watching the icy runway appear before his eyes. Okay, maybe he can sort of jog, work up a little momentum–will it be enough? It has to be–

Ice crackles around his feet, then, keeping him firmly in place.

“What–”

“D'you skateboard, Sparky?”

Oh. Oh. 

“You sure you can handle this?” he calls back.

“Piece of cake,” Lance responds with an audible smirk. Keith’s feet jerk forward beneath him as if in proof and he flails a moment to keep his balance, pain shooting up his legs and out his fingers as a result. He hisses.

“Don’t do that.”

“Yeah, yeah. Ready?”

Keith crouches, holds his arms out for balance. The Witch is facing mostly away from him, Hunk is all the way across the lawn, and the rain is still pounding on his shoulders. He’s only got one shot at this. Better make it count.

“Ready,” he says. He starts moving.

Lance, to his credit, starts him off relatively slow; he gains speed rapidly, though, until Keith is shooting across the frozen lawn faster than he could run if he weren’t injured.

Hunk sees him first, seconds before Keith collides with the The Witch. She picks up on it, turns, but it’s too late.

The ice takes him right to her barrier before letting go, and he crashes through and tackles her to the ground with a shout. He grabs her wrists with burning hands and she screams.

Moments later he’s flung back again, hard, but the damage is done; no follow up attack hits him as he struggles to get up. Hunk comes running and all but lifts him to his feet; when Keith turns to look, Shiro is there, free of the tree and half-carrying Lance to join them. And behind them, Pidge is limping across the street.

The rain slows, and the skies brighten.

Keith watches his mother stagger back up to her feet, hunched, with her arms pressed into her stomach. She glares.

“Surrender,” says Shiro.

“You murdered my father,” she spits. His face darkens.

“He did worse to hundreds of people,” Shiro says quietly. “It had to end.”

“We had everything at our fingertips.” She straightens up as much as she can, fighting the pain for dignity. “You took it from us. You, and my son.” She turns her glare to Keith.

Keith meets her gaze steadily. He puts a hand on Shiro’s shoulder in solidarity, and her face twists at that final betrayal.

“You took everything from me,” Shiro says evenly. “I’m not sorry.”

Above the sound of the lingering rain and his own harsh breathing, Keith hears, faintly, sirens. The Witch must hear them too, for her eyes dart around quickly–the tree and ruined house on one side, Keith and his friends on the other, and hands too damaged to make much use of her powers. Trapped.

Pidge presses against Keith’s side then, warm. “Hunk told Princess and The Butler to come find us if he stopped responding,” she says quietly. “The cavalry’s on its way.”

He slips an arm around her waist; she might still be unsteady on her feet, after all. And if he’s enjoying the contact, well, he can’t be blamed for that. Its been a rough day.

“It’s about time,” he says.

“You lot sure took a beating, didn’t you?” The Butler asks cheerfully. He seems unfazed by the destruction around them; even so, he’s completely refused to step onto the muddy lawn. Princess, on the other hand, has mud splashed up to her knees after helping the special police unit all but wrestle The Witch into an armored van. There are ambulances on the way.

“What’s important is that we survived,” Shiro says tiredly. Hunk nods and scratches at the ill-fitting mask on his face–courtesy of the local news station, since footage of unmasked heroes is unairable and all five of them had long since lost theirs. Not that there’s much worth filming at this point.

“It’s a miracle that you all survived!” The Butler nods over to where Lance is sitting on a relatively clean patch of sidewalk, getting attention from an EMT. “And I’d say the capture of The Witch counts as important, too, hm?”

Keith tightens his grip on Pidge–she’s leaning against his chest now, taking advantage of their shared body heat to counteract that they’re both soaked to the bone. She reaches up and pats his arm.

“Weird, isn’t it?” she murmurs.

“Yeah,” he says. He’d definitely never expected to battle his own mother–he’d kind of put off becoming a superhero until he was sure she was gone, actually. For all the good that did.

The Butler keeps talking, but Keith tunes him out. Frankly he’s still in a lot of pain–feeling all the bruises from being tossed around, on top of whatever the lightning did to him. All he wants to think about is Pidge in his arms, anyway. It’s nice. They should do this more often.

“Hey,” he says after a moment. “How come you never use your real power?”

She huffs. “It’s lame. I’m not a nature person.”

He gestures at the massive downed tree nearby. “You call that lame?”

“Compared to invisibility, yeah. Besides, what would my hero name even be?”

He thinks about that. “Tree… grower?”

She snorts. “Forget I asked.”

They get a minute or so of companionable silence before sirens sound in the distance again. Keith sighs inwardly, because it means he’ll have to let go soon. Maybe Pidge is thinking the same, because she leans back a little more.

“D'you think they’ll let us be civilians at the hospital?” she asks. “I don’t wanna sit in the waiting room in a mask.”

“If we take them off in the ambulance they can’t make us put them back on.”

“Nice thinking.” She yawns. “Hey, you’ve been to Hunk’s place now, right?”

“The bakery? Yeah.”

She tenses in his arms. “Cool, cool. You wanna meet me there tomorrow, if we’re out of the hospital by then? Not in costume, I mean. Just to hang out. If you’re down, but if you’re not that’s fine too. Are you? Down, I mean.”

He grins even though she can’t see, resting his chin in her hair and giving her a squeeze to head off the oncoming ramble. She’s tense for some reason; like he’d say anything but yes.

“Let them go,” he says, like that’s gonna do anything.

“What, leaving so soon?” The Witch asks. “Keith, dear, we have so much to catch up on.” She gestures at the totally destroyed couch. Okay, so she knows his real identity. That’s bad. That’s a bad sign.

“No,” says Sparky–Keith. “Fuck you? Let them go.”

Pidge actually hisses at that. Come on, Keith.

“Is that any way to talk to your mother?” The Witch asks.

Oh fuck.

Her hands tighten into claws, and Hunk cries out in pain. Paladin is silent, but he struggles in the grip of her power too, floating a few inches off the ground. Pidge has to do something. If it weren’t for this damn barrier…!

“You’re not my mom,” Keith says, hands tightening into fists, and The Witch cackles.

“In that case…” Her head jerks up, revealing glowing eyes, and Keith yells as he’s lifted off the floor like the others. “You can join your friends in hell!”

She jerks her hands, and their masks are torn away, along with Hunk’s gear–it all joins Pidge and Frosty’s stuff on the floor, broken and torn. And then she flings the three of them backward toward the barrier. Pidge and Frosty both yelp and try to scramble out of the way, but there’s no room, and so they all crash against the back of the circle anyway. Keith is the first to scramble back up, and he throws himself against the front of the circle, shouting incoherently. The Witch only chuckles.

“I’ll leave you to contemplate your fate, for now,” she says, and glides out of the room. Keith slumps down to his knees on the floor.

There’s a long moment of silence. They all slowly untangle from the heap they landed in.

“Okay,” Frosty says slowly, clinging to Paladin’s arm. “What the fuck.”

“Sparky?” Pidge asks tentatively. “…Keith?”

He starts, and turns to face her. He’s got a nice face under the mask, but now that she looks, she can see the similarity to The Witch. Shit. Her partner is The Witch’s son.

“Uh, hey,” he says. “Are you okay?”

She blinks, caught in the middle of her revelation. Right, yeah, she was captured, he’s probably been worried. How did the son of The Witch end up so fiercely protective?

“I’m fine,” she says slowly. “What was all that? The Witch is your mother?”

He groans. “No! She divorced my dad when I was like, ten, she’s not my mom.”

There’s a pause.

“I mean,” says Hunk. Keith huffs and looks away.

Pidge looks around. Paladin looks pretty torn; she knows he and Keith are friends outside of the superhero stuff, but considering his past, he’s definitely having mixed feelings about this. Frosty’s literally climbed into his lap, though, so maybe that’ll help. Hunk, on the other hand, looks resigned; he doesn’t actually have any powers, so without his gadgets there’s not really anything he can do.

Keith is hunched up on the other side of the circle, apart from the rest. He’s looking towards the ruined couch, but she doubts he’s actually seeing it, by the glazed-over look in his eye and the way he’s chewing his lip.

Okay, well. They aren’t dead yet. Maybe there’s still a way out of this.

She scoots over to Keith and puts a hand on his knee, and he looks up.

“Does this mean you can do this magic circle stuff?” she asks, and his whole face kind of relaxes.

“Not really,” he says. “She tried to teach me but I wasn’t strong enough, or something. The bloodline’s too diluted.”

“Bloodline?” Frosty looks up. “Are there more of you?”

Keith glares right back. “The Emperor was her father. That’s all.”

Paladin sucks in a breath. Alright, grandpa Emperor. Cool. She shakes Keith’s knee.

“Never mind that, do you know how to break this circle?” she says. He frowns and looks around, presses a hand against the barrier. Then his eyebrows lift.

“I might be able to disrupt it,” he says. “But I’ll need something to draw with. The same as she used to make it, if possible.”

“It looked like chalk before it lit up, but I doubt she left it here for us.” Pidge looks around at the others. “Anyone got a pen?”

There’s a shuffling, as everyone straightens up. Even Pidge is feeling that spark of hope.

“I had one,” says Hunk. “But it was with my stuff.” He gestures at his mangled gear, which lies firmly outside the circle.

“I might be able to make, like, an ice ramp, and slide it toward us?” offers Permafrost.

“Can your ice get outside the barrier, though? I thought you had to be in contact with it.”

Frosty grins. “Let’s find out,” he says, and leans out of Paladin’s lap to slap a palm against the floor. Ice spreads from the spot, creeping quickly toward the barrier.

It fizzles when it hits, and doesn’t penetrate.

“Damn it,” he says with a pout. 

Paladin rubs his shoulder reassuringly. “It was a good idea,” he says.

Pidge takes stock. Frosty’s power requires contact, so that’s out. Hunk has no powers. Keith’s is useless for this–unless he can burn lines into the wooden floor instead of drawing on it? That’s something to ask about. Paladin only has super strength, but there’s also his nullifying hand–hey, maybe that’ll work.

“Paladin,” she starts.

“My hand won’t work,” he says before she can ask. “She did it. If it worked against her powers it’d nullify itself.”

“Alright,” she says. “Keith, can you burn lines on the floor instead of drawing them?”

“I don’t think I have the… control for that,” he says. “I don’t think it’d work anyway, since it’d be in the floor instead of on it.”

“Just burn the varnish?”

“It’d be in the varnish instead of on it. Same thing.”

Okay, that’s out. So that leaves Pidge herself. It’s not her usual M.O.; the powers she’s known for, like Hunk, come from gadgets. Unlike him, though, she does have a real power–a pretty lame one, in her opinion, hence why she never uses it, but in this situation it just might save them. Either way, it’s up to her.

She looks over at Hunk, the only one who knows her real power; he’s looking back at her already. He’s probably come to the same conclusion she has.

“Alright,” she mutters, and places her palms flat against the floor, and closes her eyes. She reaches down inside herself for her power, and then down through the floor with it, to the earth far below.

Soon, the house shudders as something breaks through the concrete floor of the basement.

She grits her teeth and keeps pushing. She only has so much control; if she aimed right, she can knock the destroyed gear into the barrier. The thought occurs to her to simply destroy the floor beneath them and disrupt the circle that way, but given that it prevents any power from passing through, it’s not likely to work.

Something thumps against the floor, just a little further than the gear, and Keith starts next to her. She grins.

“What was that?” Paladin asks.

“That’s Pidge,” says Hunk. “Shoot! I mean, Cheshire. Sorry.”

“S'fine,” Pidge mutters–no sense worrying about identities right now, they’ve all been unmasked anyway. Besides, she’s busy.

The floor groans. Keith’s hand brushes across her shoulder.

“What… are you doing?” he asks.

She doesn’t have to answer, because just then the tree she’s been growing finally bursts upward through the floor. It violently lifts the floorboards, tossing debris–and the gear–towards them.

Her concentration breaks when Keith yanks her sideways out of the way of the leg of what used to be a coffee table. It clips her shoulder instead of her face, which ends up shoved into his chest from the momentum–huh, he’s got a nice chest. He shields her from the ice that shakes loose from the ceiling, too.

“You okay?” he asks when she pulls away enough to look around.

“Yeah,” she says, distracted. Well, the living room was already a mess, but now there’s a tree growing in the middle of it. The whole floor is slanted, in fact. More importantly, most of the gear landed just out of reach, but the pen had gotten jostled free and is now rolling slowly towards the barrier.

Also important: the rapid footsteps upstairs.

“C'mon, c'mon, c'mon,” Hunk hisses. The pen keeps rolling. Paladin and Permafrost are clinging to each other, eyes glued to its progress.

Which reminds her that she and Keith are also still clinging to each other. She shoots him a grin; he blushes and lets go.

“Aaaalmost… there…” Hunk’s fingers are brushing against the barrier, ready to grab the pen the moment it enters the circle. Keith shifts around to crouch next to him, eyeing the circle itself. Pidge stands.

“How long is it gonna take to break the circle?” she asks.

“Minute or so?” He glances back, then around. “She’s coming.”

She is; there are footsteps on the stairs now.

“I’ll buy you time,” Pidge says, and wills the tree further upwards. WIth a crash and a groan, it rises further, pressing against the ceiling. Branches sprout thickly from the trunk, all but obscuring the far side of the room.

“Have you always been able to do this?”

“Yep.”

“Ha!” Hunk grabs the pen and just as quickly passes it off to Keith. Keith immediately starts scribbling on the floor, scooting clockwise on his knees around the circle.

“WHO DID THIS?” The Witch screeches from beyond the tree. Pidge keeps pushing it upward, through the ceiling, willing more branches to sprout even as a blast of something from the Witch splinters several apart. Paladin and Permafrost come to stand beside her–there’s nothing they can do but their presence is reassuring anyway. Hunk comes and joins them, too.

“Almost…” Keith mutters. He’s 2/3rds of the way around the circle. Pidge is shuddering from the strain; she’s not used to using her powers at all, much less for so long.

The Witch’s face, almost demonic in anger, is frequently visible through the branches. A blast of something like lightning hits the tree and sends a heavy branch flying towards them; as one, Paladin and Hunk step in to shield her from it. It lands across their backs, making them both stumble and wince.

“Keith?” Paladin asks urgently.

“One second–done!”

And just like that, the barrier flickers and falls. Pidge lets the tree go and collapses against someone’s chest–Frosty, probably, because his hands are ice cold. Ha.

“Ch–Pidge.” Keith comes into view, grabs her hands. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she murmurs. He pulls her away from Permafrost and all but lifts her into someone else’s much warmer arms.

“Take care of her,” she hears him say, and then he and Frosty and Paladin are all stepping forward toward the gap in the branches, and The Witch beyond.

Something hits the branches next to him and he jumps. They’re not even attached to the trunk anymore, just a pile of splintered wood held up by what remains of the wall. 

Permafrost slaps a hand against the branches across the way and a barrier of ice crackles across the gap. He gestures frantically, and Keith darts across to join him moments before a bolt of lightning breaks through the ice.

“We need a plan,” he hisses.

“If you think I have any inside knowledge, you’re wrong,” Keith mutters back.

“I didn’t say that!”

“Hey,” Shiro says, voice low. “None of that now. We need to get out of here.”

“How!?” Permafrost gestures beyond the tree, as lightning plays across the branches next to them, mere feet away.

“We could climb out the office windows.” Keith points behind them, to the doorway in the far corner.

“And just leave her for someone else to deal with?” Tinkertoy asks kind of hopefully. He and Pidge are against the wall now, next to them. She  frowns.

“We can’t just leave,” she says. “She’s got plans, she’s not gonna give up–and she’s not gonna come back here. If we don’t do something while we’re here–”

“I doubt we’re getting out of this without a fight,” Shiro says, lifting his hands placatingly. “But if we can do it out in the open–”

A bolt breaks through the branches and strikes his arm, and he yells in pain. Permafrost yells too, immediately placing visibly frosted hands on Shiro’s arm.

“I’m fine, move!” Shiro grits, pointing toward the office. He and Permafrost set off. Pidge opens her mouth as if to protest, but Tinkertoy picks her right up and hurries after them.

Keith hangs back a moment, chancing a look through the broken branches. The Witch–his mother–is waiting with lifted hands, eyes darting across the tree for any sign of them through the dense foliage. They meet his.

“Ha!” She sends a bolt of lightning right towards his face. He sidesteps quickly and it hits the remains of an armchair behind him instead.

“Keith!” comes a call, and he hurries back towards the office.

Tinkertoy is first through the window, landing heavily between a bush and the outside wall. Keith and Permafrost exchange a look, and lift a struggling Pidge between them, handing her down to Tink; they help Shiro through next, who despite his claims isn’t using his injured arm at all. The three straggle out across the lawn, while the other two turn to each other.

“Go, I’ll hold her off,” Permafrost says.

“You go,” Keith says almost simultaneously.

“I can–”

“Just go–”

“WHERE ARE YOU?" 

The shout comes from the other room, and is accompanied by a crackle and a resounding crash. Keith shoves the other super toward the window, and turns back to the office doorway with flames in his hands.

"Go!” he says, not turning to see if Permafrost obeys. He points his hands toward the doorway and lets loose.

The flames catch on the ancient wallpaper and wooden floor quickly. He keeps it up for a few seconds, making sure the flame and smoke thoroughly obscure the doorway, before turning and climbing out the window himself, coughing. Permafrost offers him a helping hand down.

“You’re being weird,” Keith mutters, though he takes it.

“See if I ever help you again,” Permafrost retorts, and snatches his hand away the moment Keith is safely on the ground. They hurry to rejoin the others.

“Didja get her?” Tinkertoy asks first thing. “Can we go?”

“For shit’s sake, Hunk,” says Pidge. The guy’s name is Hunk?

“Hey!”

“You dropped my name, I drop yours,” she says. Okay, apparently it is. “You realize if she escapes we’re inflicting her on the entire region, right?”

“That’s not really how that works, Pidge.”

“She’ll be out in thirty seconds or less,” Keith interjects, eyeing the smoke now pouring out of the office’s window.

Pidge looks up at him. “You sure?”

He smirks. “She hates fire.”

Sure enough, it’s maybe ten seconds before the front door bursts open and The Witch steps out, disheveled and angry. She points a hand at them, and they scatter to avoid the lightning that follows.

“Go, Hunk!” Shiro calls. “Take Pidge!”

“No way!” Pidge shrieks. She rolls out of the way of another blast of lightning.

“I’m not gonna just abandon you guys!” Hunk shouts too, even though he’s running for cover behind a car parked across the street. The Witch turns towards him and Keith takes the opportunity to shoot fire at her–also distracting her from the ice spreading rapidly towards her feet. She brings up a barrier against his attack, though.

“How dare you!” she screams. He dodges out of the way of another lightning strike, pausing his assault; she lifts her arms and starts chanting.

“Shit,” he mutters. He knows that chant.

“What’s she doing?” Permafrost calls nervously. His ice crashes uselessly against her barrier.

“She’s calling a storm!” He spins, looking around for the rest of the group; Permafrost and Shiro are crouched at the corner of the house, they’re fine. Pidge is running towards him, that’s good, he’s kind of in the open right now but he’s still close by the burning office, he can shelter around this corner of the house. 

Hunk is…

“Hunk!” he shouts urgently, as the skies darken and something crackles above. “Get away from the car!”

“Keith!” comes a shout nearby, and suddenly he’s being shoved over sideways. He looks as he falls–a bolt of lightning, unnoticed in his distraction–Pidge, there in its path where he once was–

It hits, and she screams. He’s scrambling back to his feet by the time she starts to fall, dives in before her head can hit the ground, there’s a massive burn across her shoulder, her shirt is half gone and smoldering, steaming as it begins to rain, her eyes are shut tight in pain, oh god–

“Look out!” Shiro shouts, and Keith’s head snaps up. The Witch is crackling and glowing, hovering a foot off the ground and still barely off the front stoop. That and the spreading fire light the yard more than the sun does now; lightning crackles in the sky, shoots down to hit the massive tree that’s broken through the house’s roof with a thunderous roar.

An ominous groan follows.

“The house!” Hunk shouts. The tree, the fire–it must be unstable by now. Keith looks back down.

“Pidge,” he says, gathering her up in his arms. “You with me?”

She whimpers in pain but clutches tightly to his shirt. “Always,” she whispers, barely audible above the storm. He holds her tight and makes a run for it, where Hunk is still crouched in the yard across the street where the car keeps him out of sight, but far enough back that if the lightning hits it it won’t hit him too.

“You gotta get out of here,” Keith pants, shoving Pidge at him. “She’s hurt, you have to–”

Lightning hits mere feet away, interrupting him. Pidge lifts a hand and swats at his face.

“Worrywart,” she accuses. She keeps one eye clenched shut against the pain but opens one to glare weakly at him–she has to keep blinking because of the rain. “I c'n still help.”

“You can barely even move,” Keith says.

“Uh, guys?”

“Don’t have to.” Pidge flops her injured arm out in some sort of gesture towards the ground. “Plants. Dirt. S'fine.”

“Guys,” Hunk says, louder, and Keith looks up.

The top of Pidge’s tree is several yards to the side of where it was last he looked.

“Shit.” He puts Pidge down hurriedly but gently and hurries back to the street. The tree is slipping sideways, the weight of it slowly but surely crunching through what remains of the house. Shiro and Permafrost are engaged in battle with The Witch, the latter with his ice and the former with flung bushes, flagstones, anything he can get his hands on–they’re directly in its path. Keith starts running.

“SHIRO!”

Shiro starts. He looks around–up, at the tree that’s broken through all of the roof and much of the outside wall and is now toppling freely towards him. 

“Lance!” Shiro screams. Keith sees it as if in slow motion as he runs–Shiro grabbing Permafrost by the collar and flinging him out of the way, lifting his arms, bracing himself–

A gut-wrenching scream. Keith skids onto the muddy lawn, trying to see through the dense branches and pouring rain. He can’t see Shiro, but he can see Permafrost–Lance–lying on the ground, out of range of the branches except for the one now skewering his thigh. Shit.

“Shiro!” Lance, despite his injury, is straining toward the tree. It’s hard to say whether he even knows he’s pinned in place.

The Witch laughs.

“AAAARGH!” With fire in his hands, Keith charges. 

The rain is painfully cold on his hands; he has to get close or else his flames won’t even penetrate the water sheeting down from the sky. But god their team of five has been dropped to two in a matter of seconds–one, even, given Hunk is powerless–and there’s no choice left.

Like hell Keith is giving up.

He collides with The Witch’s barrier, pulling her attention away from the writhing Lance. He presses against it even as she turns, willing it to give, to just let his hands through–

She smiles.

“Fool,” she says, and with a flick of her hand he goes flying.

The baker makes a face. “Alright, come on back.” He gestures them past the counter and through the door beyond. “Shay! Need you up front.”

“Okay!” comes an easy response, and its speaker brushes past them to take the man’s place at the counter. He steps into the back room and closes the door.

“Okay, what did they get themselves into now?” he asks.

“The Witch is back and Cheshire and Permafrost are missing,” Keith says. The man’s eyes widen as he turns to him.

“Oh my god. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Unfortunately not.” Shiro steps forward. “Flame, this is Tinkertoy. Tink, this is Flamethrower.”

“Hey,” says Keith.

“Hey, uh, yeah, Pi–Cheshire talks about you all the time. Uh, shoot, it was supposed to be a surprise–” Tinkertoy turns and fiddles with a filing cabinet in the back of the room. “She asked me to make you a real costume–I helped with all her gadgets and stuff, y'know? I make stuff for a lot of supers–but if you’re going up against The Witch–I mean, it’s not quite done, but it’s better than what you’ve got now–”

Keith is reeling. Cheshire asked this guy to make him a real costume? As a surprise?

“Tink,” Shiro says, “you’re rambling.”

“I know!” Tinkertoy steps back and part of the wall slides away to reveal a narrow staircase. “But I’m nervous! This is The Witch we’re talking about!” He continues talking even as he leads them upstairs. “I mean, maybe it’s nothing to you, you took down The Emperor, but La–Permafrost and Cheshire aren’t you! And neither am I!”

Keith glances back at Shiro, who’s now frowning and thin-lipped. He’d kind of known he used to be Champion, one of The Emperor’s henchmen–and that The Emperor had been taken down by one of his own–but for Shiro to be the one… And wasn’t he teaching back then?

“Oh my god,” says Keith. “The year you went on sabbatical…?”

“We can talk about that later,” says Shiro tightly, which just confirms it. “And The Emperor was never the real threat. It was The Witch pulling all the strings.”

“That does not make me feel any better,” says Tinkertoy, and he steps up into what really just looks like a cluttered attic. There’s fabric and a sewing machine on one table, though, and a soldering iron and bits of metal and wire on another. He rummages through a box and hands a bundle of fabric to Keith.

“Put this on,” he says. “Paladin, do you have your full costume with you?”

“No, I didn’t have time to put it on,” says Shiro.

“I think I have something that’ll fit you. Unless you wanna fight in khakis? I don’t recommend that.”

Shiro glances down; he’s still half in his professor attire. “Ah, yeah, I guess, but we have to hurry.”

“Then hurry up and change. You too, Sparky.” Tinkertoy tosses what seems to be a pair of pants at Shiro as Keith unfolds the bundle he’s been given. The largest item still looks too small, but the material is stretchy…

“You’re putting me in a spandex onesie?” he questions.

“That’s just the first layer! Cheshire said you have no sense of style anyway, man. Blame her.” Tinkertoy has pulled off his shirt and is rummaging through another box again. “You need to be able to move, but if you wear something too loose you’ll set yourself on fire. Do you want a headband, or bobby pins?”

“What? Neither.”

Tinkertoy gives him a look. “You are not fighting with your hair in your eyes, dude. You can on your own time, I guess, but not this time, we need every advantage we can get against The Witch.”

Keith is taken aback by the guys intensity. “…I’ll take the pins.”

“Good.” Tinkertoy tosses him a small box, that he barely catches, still half-undressed. “And hurry up.”

A few minutes later, they’re all in full costume. Keith tugs at his sleeves, uncomfortable; the outfit itself is comfortable, actually shockingly so, but he’s used to fighting in his usual jacket and jeans. Instead he’s got shorts and a fitted vest over what really does amount to a spandex bodysuit. And, of course, the mask.

“You’re coming too?” Shiro asks, turning around to find Tinkertoy standing fully-outfitted as well next to Keith.

“My friends are in danger,” he responds. He’s twiddling his thumbs nervously, but he speaks firmly enough.

“Alright. I have some ideas of where we might find The Witch.” Shiro looks to the stairs. “Let’s go.”

Keith follows. Hopefully Shiro’s ideas of where The Witch might be match up with his own, and he won’t have to say anything

“Where?” he asks, as they slip out the bakery’s backdoor and set off down the alley.

“There’s an old warehouse down by the harbor,” Shiro says, and Keith’s heart sinks. “It used to be their base–she’s probably there.”

Well, shit.

“Wait,” Keith says. “That’s too obvious.”

Shiro turns just to raise an eyebrow at him.

“I mean, she’s definitely planning something,” he says quickly, “but half her strategy was intimidation, right? So she needs time to carry out her plan, but also leave everyone in anticipation. She’s not gonna hide where any supers are likely to find her, and she probably knows you know about that base, so the warehouse is out.”

“He’s got a point,” says Tinkertoy.

Shiro frowns. “Where do you think she is, then?” he asks doubtfully.

“I think,” Keith says, turning north to point towards the city’s edge, “she’s home.”

It’s the best he’s got, though, so out he heads to look for trouble.

He finds it in the form of two minor villains harassing a jewelry shop owner. They turn out to be not much trouble at all; he takes them both down easily, and waits with the (currently thanking him profusely) shopkeeper until the police come.

“Where’s your partner?” one of the cops asks him, not bothering to look around. They all know him, and they all know Cheshire’s power is invisibility.

She never once showed herself or said anything tonight, so as far as Keith knows, she’s not even there. He shrugs.

“Right,” says the cop, and waves him off. “You’re free to go.” He goes.

So, first attempt a failure. Granted, if she’s watching, she probably knew he didn’t need her help for that. He has to actually get in trouble, then, and that’s dangerous.

He smirks as he hears screams and rounds a corner to see a wanted villain in the middle of a city square. Good thing he likes danger.

Ten minutes later he’s not so sure he likes danger anymore. He lands heavily on the hood of someone’s car, having just been sent flying by some kind of psychic blast; the villain is now approaching him slowly, as he wills himself to move, get off the car, go.

“C'mon, Cheshire,” he hisses under his breath, and coughs, painfully pushing himself upwards. “Now’s the time!”

There’s no answer. The villain gets closer, smirking.

“Hooold it right there!”

Keith and the villain both look up. Two figures are approaching from down the street, in matching costumes of blue and pink–heroes, Keith recognizes, though not ones he knows personally.

“Princess!” shouts the man–the same as shouted before–and his partner nods. She splits off, going wide, as the man charges right towards the villain, who turns with a hiss.

That’s Keith’s cue to get the hell out. He rolls off the car and crouches behind it to catch his breath.

The battle is over quickly now that two veterans have taken over, and they come and find him soon after.

“Flamethrower, right?” says Princess. “I’m Princess, and this is The Butler.”

“The Handsome Butler,” The Butler interjects. She ignores him.

“Why are you out here without Cheshire?”

“Dunno where she is,” says Keith. He stretches tentatively; he’s bruised up pretty bad but not actually injured.

“Last I heard, she was out with Permafrost!” The Butler chirps, and Keith freezes. That guy? He’s an ass! Why’s she out with him? He knows they're friends for some reason but she's Keith's partner now.

“It was probably something serious, then,” says Princess. Great, so Cheshire doesn’t think Keith can handle serious missions. He might be new but he can handle anything that asshole Permafrost can!

“Do you know,” he says carefully, “where they are?”

“Last I heard, they were up by the Natural History Museum!” says The Butler.

“You’re injured, you know,” says Princess. “You ought to rest–”

“I’m fine,” Keith says, and stands. He leaves them there even as sirens start in the distance; he’s going to find out why Cheshire ditched him if it kills him.

"Princess says the warehouse is empty," Tinkertoy continues, tapping on a device that seems to function like a phone, though it isn't. "So I guess you were right, but..."

"How are we getting in?" Shiro asks.

"The front door," says Keith. He reaches into the planter by the front steps, lifting one of the decorative rocks inside; the key is still there, just as he'd hoped, and he picks it up and shows them.

"How'd you know that was there!?" Tinkertoy's voice cracks.

And, yeah, okay, this is probably something he needs to explain. Shiro's face is darkening.

"I used to live here," Keith says quickly. "Not in a decade and a half, though. I wasn't actually sure the key would even still be here."

"How do you know The Witch lives here now?" Shiro asks slowly. Keith sighs.

"Look, I'll be happy to explain after, but it's kind of a long story so can we go rescue Cheshire already? And Permafrost?"

Tinkertoy frowns. Shiro sighs. 

"I trust you, Flame, but I hope I'm not wrong in that," he says slowly. "That said, I'm not sure marching right in the front door is the best idea. Is there a backdoor? I assume you're familiar with the layout--Tink, can you tell if anyone's inside?"

Tinkertoy points one of his gadgets towards the house and squints at it. "Well, there's at least one super inside. I can't say who, though."

"There's a bulkhead in back. If we get it open we can sneak in from the basement," says Keith. "...Assuming she hasn't already seen us standing out here."

They all look up at the dark, empty windows. Nothing moves.

"If she isn't expecting us, then she might not have. Let's assume so, for now," says Shiro. "Around the back, then, quickly."

As one they turn and hurry down the driveway, slipping around the back corner of the house to crouch in the bushes by the bulkhead. Shiro tries the door.

"Locked," he says.

"I have a bot that might be able to unlatch it, if you can find a gap for it to get in," says Tinkertoy, pulling said bot out of one of his pouches.

Shiro nods and tugs at the juncture of the two doors, at the base--they don't open, but they do lift away from the concrete slightly, and Tinkertoy slips the bot inside. He sticks his tongue out as he fiddles with the tiny remote controller.

"Aaaand... Done!" He grabs the upper door and it lifts open with a loud, rusty squeal. "Oops."

Shiro makes a face, but he slips down the stairs into the basement. Keith follows, and behind them Tinkertoy carefully lowers the bulkhead door again.

The basement is cool and dark; Keith tugs on Shiro's sleeve, pulling him towards the stairs. "This way," he whispers. They traipse across unfinished concrete, between stacks of cardboard boxes and furniture covered in sheets, until they get to the stairs; the door at the top is closed.

"Let me," Shiro whispers, lifting his faintly glowing right hand. He slips around Keith to stand on the top step and eases the door open. He peers around; after a moment, he gestures for them to follow, and the file onto the first floor.

Tinkertoy looks at one of his gadgets and points towards the living room, and so they cross the kitchen and creep past the back stairs and dining room and through the hallway. 

Keith can't resist brushing a hand against the familiar wallpaper as they go. It's bizarre and, frankly, unsettling to be back in his childhood home like this.

They turn the corner into the living room and find a disaster.

Ice coats much of the walls and ceiling, dripping steadily; the puddles on the floor indicate it's been there a while. The furniture is all tipped and strewn everywhere, as though it's been tossed aside, and much of it is broken; a massive, ornate bookshelf has fallen from its place in the corner of the room, leaving a side table and lamp thoroughly crushed and books flung nearly to the other side of the room. Another lamp is on, but its shade is gone and the bulb is flickering; a globe made of inlaid stone has been knocked free of its stand and rolled nearly into the office beyond. The sofa is in shreds. The heavy marble mantle over the fireplace is cracked. The oriental rug is marred by scorch marks where it's still visible beneath the debris.

An icicle falls heavily onto the tipped grandfather clock, causing a loud, discordant chime.

In the center of the room, within a glowing purple circle marked with lines and runes, Cheshire looks up and meets Keith's eyes. Without her usual acid green visor, they're a bright, shocking gold. Beside her, curled up on the floor, Permafrost doesn't stir.

Shit.

"Sparky," Cheshire whispers, and despite the horror in her voice he's struck with a powerful wave of relief that's she's alive.

"Cheshire..." 

Permafrost looks up at that--he looks a lot younger without his mask, huh. There's fear in his eyes but Keith doesn't think much of it; he focuses on Cheshire instead. 

"We're gonna get you out, hey." His own voice sounds foreign to him, gentle, as he steps forward to look at the circle.

"No, you have to go," she says urgently, but still quiet. "Sparky, you have to leave."

Keith blinks, confused and a little hurt. "Why?"

Then there's a gasp, and then two cries of pain behind him. He spins; Shiro and Tinkertoy both are caught, writhing, in some magical binding, held up by the outstretched hands of the woman behind them.

"And so, the prodigal son returns," says The Witch. She smiles.

"It's a trap," Cheshire whispers miserably.