by TJ Klune
* * *
It was not fine.
Because as soon as the last box was stacked in the living room around them, Geoffrey practically in tears at the tip Miles had given him, Trey said, “So, anyone want to tell us what’s going on? I’m not worried, but I do have a few questions. What’s with all the—”
And Nick—always and forever Nick—blurted, “I’m Pyro Storm!”
The only sound that followed came from the honking of horns out on the street. Then Dad put his face in his hands; Martha said, “Oh my”; Bob took out his handkerchief and blew his nose; Seth moaned quietly; Gibby said, “Nicky, I swear to god”; and Jazz laughed so hard, she started crying.
And that didn’t even begin to cover the looks on the faces of the new arrivals. Trey’s eyes were bulging from his head, Aysha’s mouth had dropped open, Miles was squinting at Nick as if he didn’t understand what he’d just said, and Jo said, “Come again?”
“Crap,” Nick muttered. “Crap, crap, crap.” He needed to fix this. Dig in or pretend it was a joke? He went with the easier route. “Okay. So. Um—here’s the thing? I have superpowers. And I can fly. And create … fire? Yeah, fire. Like explosions and junk. And yes, I know the costume is so last year, but when I tried to make a new one, I stabbed myself and decided the old costume is fine.” He glanced at Seth pointedly. “For now.” There. Fixed. Sort of.
More silence. All the silence.
Then, Miles: “You’re Pyro Storm. That Extraordinary from the bridge who fought against Smoky Guy.”
“Shadow Star,” Nick corrected automatically, even though he hated himself for it. “And yep! I fought against Shadow Star and saved the day.” But since he wasn’t selfish, he added, “But I didn’t do it alone. Gibby and Jazz and Seth all helped because they are good people who you shouldn’t be mad at for anything. It’s all my fault. So. I’m … sorry?”
“Wait,” Aysha said, holding up her hand. “I’m confused. We all saw the footage from the bridge, Nicky. You weren’t the one in costume. You were standing next to Pyro Storm.”
“You’re so observant,” Nick said through gritted teeth. “How fun. That was a … hologram. A hologram I created in order to confuse Shadow Star and gain the upper hand. It only looked like I was two different people because of the advanced tech that we somehow created that I won’t bore you with the details about. I don’t even understand it, for the most part. Story of my life.”
Miles nodded slowly. “But didn’t you—forgive me if this sounds a little forward—but didn’t you maul Pyro Storm? It was very … wet. The wonders of high definition.”
Dad sounded as if he were choking on his tongue.
“Maul?” Nick said, outraged. “I didn’t maul anyone. It was a loving kiss that I placed … upon myself because I … deserved it?”
“Oh my,” Martha said again. Bob folded his arms and grinned at Nick, as if he was enjoying the hell out of this. Nick made a mental note to plot serious yet harmless revenge against him.
Seth said, “Nick, what are you doing?”
He really had no idea. All that mattered was protecting Seth’s secret identity, and if that meant throwing himself at the mercy of parental figures, then so be it. “Look,” he said, trying to hold together the tatters of his completely plausible story, “I know it’s shocking to hear that someone like me could be an Extraordinary—”
“Not that shocking,” Trey said, rubbing a hand over his scalp. “If anyone was going to be an Extraordinary, I’d think it’d be you. It actually makes a lot of sense.”
“It does?” Nick asked. He coughed. “I mean, of course it does, so there’s no need to question anything else. Since you now know the big secret, we can all focus on the important things, like what is up with this weather? Global warming, am I right? Those poor polar bears with all that melting ice. We should be ashamed for treating our only home with such disregard.”
Apparently not giving a crap about polar bears, Aysha turned to her daughter. “And you knew about this?”
“I don’t know anything that’s happening right now,” Gibby said.
“Jasmine?” Jo asked. “Is this true?”
Jazz glanced at Nick before looking at her mom. “If I say yes, are you going to take my Alexander McQueen pumps away?”
Jo blinked. “No?”
Jazz breathed a sigh of relief. “Then, yes. Mostly. Nick is certainly capable of being Nick.”
He didn’t know if that was a compliment or not. He was about to ask for clarification when Seth said, “Nicky.”
He looked over at him.
Seth shook his head. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yeah,” he said, “I do. Because Pyro Storm—me—needs to remember how important he is. And not…” He frowned. “Not just to me? Wait, that doesn’t make sense.”
Seth reached over and took his hand, squeezing gently. Nick studied his face, cataloguing the shadows under his eyes, the firm set of his jaw. He looked weary and resigned, something Nick never wanted him to be. “Nick,” he said gently. “They deserve to know, especially since their kids are involved. It’s only fair.”
“Fair,” Nick managed to say, that old, familiar feeling of his lungs constricting causing the word to come out choked. “How is it fair that you always have to clean up the messes I make? You only did what you did because—” Because of me, but he couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t finish because his throat had tightened, his breath whistling between clenched teeth.
Nick didn’t see Dad move and flinched when his father knelt before him, gripping his knees, keeping them from bouncing. Nick’s thoughts were caught in a storm, the knot in his head writhing, and that whisper, that caress in the back of his mind, grew claws, digging in. A headache bloomed quietly, and he couldn’t focus, couldn’t—
“Nicky,” Dad said, sounding far away. “Kid, I need you to breathe. Deep breaths, okay? In. Hold. Out. Hold. You can do this. I know you can. Breathe, kid. Just—”
Nick snapped out of his spiral when the floor began to vibrate. The half-empty plate of cookies rattled across the coffee table. The windows shook. Pictures hanging on the walls swung crooked.
Then it stopped.
Everyone looked around. “What was that?” Trey asked. “An earthquake?”
“Maybe it was a train,” Miles said, though he sounded dubious.
Martha and Bob looked just as confused. “Probably a garbage truck going by,” Bob said. “You know how these old houses get.”
Dad, though … Dad’s hands shook as he reached up and cupped Nick’s face. “Did you … you took your pill, right?”
Anger, then. Anger and embarrassment mixed together. He jerked his head back out of Dad’s hands. “Yeah,” he said, not meeting anyone’s gaze. “I did. Like I always do. Every day. I’m sorry my brain makes me say stupid things, but I can’t always control it.” The bitterness in his words tasted like acid on his tongue.
Dad breathed in and let it out slow. “There’s nothing wrong with your brain. There never has been. You’re just … Nick. And that’s a good thing,” he added as Nick opened his mouth to retort. “I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. We can go. We probably should get you some air.”
Nick shook his head. “I can’t. Dad, this is important.”
“Nothing is more important than your health,” Dad said, voice hard.
“He’s right, Nicky,” Seth said, and Nick couldn’t bring himself to look at him. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” He sighed. “We have to trust them, especially since Gibby and Jazz are involved. They have a right to know what we’re doing.”
Nick finally worked up the courage to look at Seth.
Seth—wonderful, amazing Seth—nodded at him. He reached out and took his hand again. Dad watched the two of them, an inscrutable expression on his face.
Nick said, “I’m sorry.”
Seth shrugged. “You don’t need to be. You remember when I came out to you? You had my back then. I know you’ll have
it now.”
“Please be my friend forever,” Nick said, because it was the only thing he could think of.
Seth laughed quietly. “Forever is a long time.”
“I know, but you’re worth it.”
Seth brought Nick’s hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it sweetly.
“Oh my god,” Gibby said, and they both jumped. They looked over to see her scowling, her eyes wet. “Stupid boys. I hate you so much. Incoming.”
Nick squawked when she practically tackled him out of his chair, knocking Dad on his butt. He looked over her shoulder in time to see Jazz doing the same to Seth, though much more delicately, settling on his lap, pressing his face against her neck, petting his hair, cooing at him that he was the most precious thing in the universe and that she would destroy anything that tried to harm him. “Are you sure?” Nick heard Jazz ask.
“Yeah,” Seth whispered back. “I think so.”
“We’re with you,” Gibby said.
They were all brought back to reality when Miles cleared his throat. They looked at the adults in the room. Most were smiling, though they looked confused.
“Seth?” Martha asked. “This is what you want?”
Seth helped Jazz up off his lap, and she pulled Gibby along with her, sitting back down on the couch. “It is.”
Bob said, “Whatever you need, kiddo. You want us to do it?”
Seth shook his head. “No. It’s my responsibility.” He glanced at Nick. “And I know I’m not alone.”
“Damn right,” Nick said.
“Team Pyro Storm,” Gibby agreed. She looked at her parents. “Mom. Dad. I need you to listen to Seth, okay? Let him tell it how he wants to. Don’t interrupt. You’ll have questions—a lot of questions—but wait until he’s done. And Seth, tell us if you need us to jump in.”
“Same,” Jazz told her parents.
Seth said, “Watch.” He lifted his palm toward the ceiling. The skin around his eyes tightened briefly before twin flames bloomed above his hand. At first, they hung suspended, the fire crackling. Then they swirled together in the shape of a double helix. No matter how many times Nick had seen it, it still knocked the breath from his chest.
The flames rose up, beginning to spin in concentric circles above Seth’s head.
As a stunned Miles, Jo, Trey, and Aysha looked up in wonder, Seth Gray lowered his hand and said, “I’m Pyro Storm. And this is my origin story.”
* * *
By the time he finished speaking, Seth’s voice was hoarse. Nick and Gibby and Jazz had helped as best they could, but it was Seth’s story to tell. He told them of the train accident, the loss of his parents, how he’d figured out at a young age that he could create fire from nothing. There were many accidents, burning things that shouldn’t have been burned. Bob stepped in once or twice, telling the rapt audience that Seth had gotten control of it far quicker than any of them had expected.
It wasn’t until Seth reached the part about Owen and Simon Burke that anyone interrupted. Miles snarled angrily, his wife gripping his hand to keep him from rising. “Those assholes,” he snapped. “If I’d known that they…” He shook his head angrily.
They allowed Seth to tell the rest of the story, ending with the Battle at McManus Bridge. The adults all looked shaken as Seth described fighting their former friend. “And Nick saved Rebecca Firestone,” Seth said. “If it wasn’t for him, she could have gotten hurt. Or worse.”
“Yeah, well,” Nick muttered. “We can’t all be heroes.”
When Seth finished, everyone was quiet. Nick fidgeted, wanting to fill the silence, but he somehow managed to keep his mouth shut. This wasn’t about him. It was about Seth and his endless well of bravery.
He let out a sharp exhalation when Aysha spoke first. “You’re telling the truth; I know you are. But I…” She shook her head. “I’m having a hard time believing it.” She rose from the couch and walked around the coffee table to Seth’s chair. “Up,” she said. “Up.”
Seth stood and grunted when Aysha hugged him tightly, her face in his curly hair. For a moment, he just stood there, arms dangling at his sides. It wasn’t until Aysha reminded him that’s not how hugs worked that he clutched her tightly.
“You’re a hero,” she whispered to Seth, and Nick felt his bottom lip wobble. “You protected all those people. I’m so proud of you, Seth.”
Seth blinked rapidly as Aysha took a step back. A tear trickled down his cheek when Aysha moved out of the way so her husband could hug him too, followed by Jo, and then Miles.
Once everyone sat back down, Seth still looking dazed, Jo glanced at her daughter and said, “You’ve been helping him?”
Jazz nodded. “We’re Team Pyro Storm. We don’t fight like Seth does, but we’re there to make sure he has all the backup he needs.” She pointed at the boxes. “That’s what those are for. To make sure he has the best equipment. We call ourselves Lighthouse. It was Nicky’s idea.”
Dad made a small, wounded noise.
“I don’t understand,” Aysha admitted, looking around the room before settling her gaze on Bob and Martha. “You all knew about this? For how long?”
Bob shifted uncomfortably. “Martha and I have known for a while now. There was always something … different about Seth. We couldn’t quite put our fingers on it. Not until…” He glanced at Martha, as if unsure.
Martha patted his leg. “Not until he accidentally lit his bed on fire. Luckily, it was a small fire that we were able to put out before anyone got hurt. We didn’t know what had happened. It took a little bit longer to get the truth from Seth.” She smiled at her nephew. “He was scared that we wouldn’t want him anymore. As if pyrokinesis would make us love him any less.”
Bob scratched the back of his neck. “We didn’t want anyone else to know. Seemed safer that way. There wasn’t much out there about Extraordinaries—at least, not enough to show us the best way to proceed. We had to figure things out on our own. It was … well, let’s say the process was trial and error, with more error than anything else.” He laughed quietly. “Quite a few singed eyebrows, but we got it under control, didn’t we, Seth?”
Seth grinned at him, though it wasn’t as bright as usual. He was still nervous, and Nick was in protective mode. Seth said, “They grew back, thankfully. There’s a reason we evolved with eyebrows. You looked freaky without them.”
“And you knew?” Trey asked Dad, and now he sounded angry. “You let our daughters get involved with this and didn’t tell us? What the hell, Aaron—where’s your damn head at?”
“Dad,” Gibby said, flushing slightly. “It’s not like that. We knew before Mr. Bell did. In fact, out of everyone who knew before today, he was the last. If you’re going to be pissed at anyone, be mad at me.”
“Oh, I am,” Trey said. “And when did you find out? Last fall at the bridge? Before? That was months ago, Gibster. I get that you were protecting your friend, but come on. You should’ve told us.” He glared at Dad. “Someone should have told us. You say you weren’t involved in any of the fighting, which—fine. But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t have gotten hurt.” He closed his eyes. “Or worse.”
Alarmed, Nick said, “Seth wouldn’t hurt any of us. He’s in control of—”
Trey’s eyes flashed open, and Nick snapped his mouth closed. “I’m not talking about Seth, though, believe you me, we’ll get to that in a moment.” He glared at Dad. “What happens if my daughter gets pulled into a fight? What happens if the cops come and she doesn’t raise her hands up quickly enough? Or too fast? What happens if a cop has an itchy trigger finger? You gonna tell me you did everything you could to keep her safe? That’s bullshit, Aaron.”
“Dad,” Gibby said, sounding nervous. “Maybe we should—”
“Lola,” Aysha said, and Gibby scowled down at her lap.
Dad didn’t look away from Trey, and though Nick wanted to jump to his defense, he kept his silence. He wasn’t sure if this was his fight, and he didn’t want to make things wor
se. “I hear you, Trey,” Dad said. “I swear I do.”
Trey laughed, though it held no humor. “You say that, man—and oh, do I want to believe you. But then I remember I’m talking to the cop who assaulted someone in custody, and I don’t know how to reconcile the man before me with the badge he wears.”
“That wasn’t his fault,” Nick snapped. “The guy was talking crap about my mother—”
“Nick,” Dad said, the warning in his voice clear. Nick deflated, picking at a small hole in the knee of his jeans. “Trey’s right. It was my fault. It never should’ve happened. I messed up. That’s on me and no one else. No matter what anyone says to me, I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.” He looked back at Trey. “I am that man. I did hit someone in my custody, and I’ve regretted it every moment since. I can tell you it won’t happen again, but I can’t expect you to take me at my word. I have to prove that to you.”
“Damn right you do,” Trey told him, crossing his arms. “But that doesn’t mean shit, given you’re just one person. How many other cops have done the same thing you did and gotten away with it? Yeah, you were demoted, but that didn’t last long, did it? Look where you are now. How much did the NCPD pay to settle the civil lawsuit against you?”
“A lot,” Dad admitted. “It … a lot.”
“And who paid for that?” Aysha asked. “It didn’t come out of the police pension fund like it should’ve. It came from the taxpayers.”
Nick turned his head slowly to look at his Dad. “People pay for police misconduct?”
“Oh, come on, Nick,” Gibby said. “Where else would it come from?”
“I—I didn’t know that.” And wasn’t that on him? He knew what his dad had done, knew that he’d been stripped of his detective rank, but why hadn’t he asked more questions about the fallout? Why hadn’t he pushed his father for more?
“And even with all of that,” Aysha continued, “you still accepted that promotion.”
“I thought it’d be better,” Dad said, voice even. “I thought it’d help me be able to keep an eye on things, to make sure nothing happened to—”