The Last American Hero

by Nicole Field

  As Bruce watched, the driver's side door opened. District Attorney McCartney unfolded from inside that car.

  "We meet again," he said, his words deep and unhurried.

  "Leo's not in the city," Bruce volunteered quickly. He wanted him to know that, whatever this was about. He was too frightened to hold onto his rights anymore. The D.A. was dirty. His rights didn't matter. He just hoped his wide eyes and quick words attested to his honesty.

  "We're not here for Leo Hart," McCartney said. He took five lazy steps towards Bruce, closing the gap between them, and then clasped his hands at his front. "We're here for you."

  "…Me?" Bruce stuttered.

  McCartney tipped his head to the side. "Does that surprise you?"

  Bruce knew better than to answer that honestly. He attempted not to forget that just because he wasn't paying attention to the silent, watching abductors, they were still there by the car, just outside of his peripheral vision.

  "Why do you want me?" Bruce asked, instead of answering the D.A.'s question.

  "You gave me a very good idea the last time we spoke," McCartney said. His voice was very civil, friendly even, coming across as comfortable as his posture.

  Bruce had no idea how much of that was an act. He didn't think he could mimic comfort, or even pretend that his hands were clasped behind his back in any way that wasn't necessitated by the handcuffs. All he could do was keep very still so the links didn't clink against each other.

  "Oh?"

  McCartney gave a brief smile that never touched his eyes. "Phone tapping," he answered. "Don't know why I didn't think of it myself."

  It was amazing how uncomfortable a well-placed friendly voice and posture could appear. Bruce raised his chin and just watched the D.A. watching him through half-lidded eyes.

  "It was quite an interesting conversation between yourself and Leo," McCartney went on. "I had no idea you were so close."

  Still struggling to take in a full breath, Bruce just shook his head. He didn't understand how this was relevant to any sort of case he could try to prosecute, even if he was dirty.

  "You'll…" he started, hardly able to even believe he was about to say this, "never get away with this."

  McCartney's gaze returned to him. "I feel we're working under a misconception," he said, still in that friendly, civil tone of voice, and Bruce realized immediately that he'd badly misread the situation somehow.

  The smile McCartney gave him was not remotely friendly. "When I first arrived, I decided it would be a good idea to assume a position of power. It couldn't be the president herself, of course. Too high profile. But a D.A. That was just enough position to count, and offered just enough invisibility."

  At first, Bruce couldn't conceive of what McCartney was saying. It was like his brain didn't want to process it, and kept on throwing up reasons why the obvious answer wasn't so.

  "The aliens have only been here a month," Bruce forced out from between numb lips. "That's not enough time to become D.A."

  The same silky smile was on McCartney's lips. Bruce wanted to say something, anything, that would wipe it off.

  "Your Battle of Washington was not our arrival. How did you think we'd begun to infiltrate so many small towns in such a media frenzy? No. We were here long before. The arrival of the ship indicated only that the time is up on our dying planet, and we can no longer go back. We had hoped to have this one ready before that time came."

  Bruce recognized the hardness in McCartney's eyes now. Though he smiled, there was biting hatred burning behind his eyes, a loathing of any representative of the race who had been responsible for what had happened during the Battle of Washington.

  "And we killed them on arrival," Bruce whispered, remembering again Leo's shock and disgust over the way he'd been required—for humanity's safety—to wipe out the known presence of these aliens.

  McCartney shrugged. "I should not hold it against your kind. We knew, when we came here, that we would need to eradicate the species that had already formed before we could make a true home here. It was always you, or us."

  And Bruce could see that, even now, decimated as they were, McCartney saw a future where it was the aliens who still prevailed. When one of his abductors moved back into his field of vision, striding towards the backseat of the car McCartney had arrived in, Bruce realized abruptly that these men couldn't be human, standing here and listening to all this. They must be aliens, too.

  "Shall we try an experiment?" McCartney said, drawing Bruce's attention back to him. "I recall hearing that, when you friend got his powers, they were from a dog bite."

  It was a swift change of subject. Bruce wasn't quite sure what to do with it. "Would you like to see what this dog's bite brings out in you?"

  Bruce's mouth went dry as he watched a dog jump from the backseat of McCartney's car and pad towards him. The tip of is tongue slid just slightly out of the side of his open mouth. His teeth gleamed, and suddenly Bruce couldn't take his eyes off it. The dog strained against the leash that his abductor held.

  "Do… Do you want to make me into a superhero?" Bruce asked of McCartney. He couldn't fathom why McCartney would want to do that, unless it was to have a superhero who was under his own power.

  "Your kind's removal was going to be swift, and something that couldn't be traced back to us before it was too late. Unfortunately for us, your friend ruined that."

  The dog was close enough now that Bruce thought he could feel his breath against his leg. He told himself that was madness, but the abductor made no attempt to pull the dog away.

  "The chemical receptors that were designed to overwhelm the body and psyche somehow… stabilized in Leo Hart. However, that is something we have both checked and changed in this new round of tests. I think you will find the outcome…" That unfriendly smile was back on McCartney's face. Bruce was frozen in fear.

  There was a squeal of tires, amplified by the closed confines of the underground car park. Bruce's gaze darted up at the same time as his abductor let go of the leash.

  Bruce screamed as the dog's canines sunk into his arm. The skin tore as the dog's head darted from side to side, never letting go of its prize. Bruce screamed again over the sound of the dog's growls.

  And then Leo was there. Captain Hart. Whatever. His best friend crouched in front of him, hands inside the dog's mouth, pulling the jaw apart.

  The dog was yanked off him, taking some of Bruce's flesh with it. Bruce jerked then howled in pain. His shoulder felt like it was on fire. Reflexively, Bruce slapped his other hand onto the wound. Despite that, the new wound bled profusely.

  "You're all right," said Captain Hart.

  "Leo…" Bruce said, looking up at him and shaking his head. He was already starting to feel nauseous and so, so dizzy, though whether that was from blood loss, pain, or the sight and feel of so much blood, he couldn't have said. "I don't think I am." The words came out hardly louder than a whisper.

  Captain Hart looked over his shoulder to the rest of the team he'd brought with him. They had safely restrained the four alien presences, and the dog. Bruce ducked his head away from them, and then had to find somewhere else to look again, away from the blood still trickling around his fingers, and hot down his arm.

  "Your arm—" Captain Hart started.

  Bruce nodded, too much in pain to be able to form more words.

  "Quick, let's get you in the car."

  Captain Hart more or less carried Bruce into the car they'd arrived in. "Stay with me, Bruce," he said once they were in the back seat, and he'd told the driver to head to the nearest hospital. "I kept thinking about what you said about the D.A. Something just didn't sit right with me."

  Bruce heard the crack in his best friend's voice, and tried to hold onto it, just as Leo had asked.

  "I'm so sorry, Bruce." Again, he reached out to touch him. "I should have been here sooner."

  The dizziness took him over. He swayed, and would have fallen had it not been for Captain Hart's quick reflexes catc
hing him before he hit the floor.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Hold on. We're gonna get you to hospital. Hold on!"

  *~*~*

  "Stay with me, Bruce."

  That was Leo's growl, threatening at the same time as trying to mask worry. Monitors beeping. The sound of people outside talking. He felt hot. Too hot.

  At the same time, he wanted to offer a word of reassurance to Leo. All that came from between his lips was a whimper.

  Dimly, he was aware that things had changed around him. But he couldn't make sense of them. The world was a place of bright white. He struggled to keep his eyes open. But the light hurt his eyes.

  He closed his eyes again, just for a second. He'd squint and only let just a little of the light back in.

  "You're going to be all right. Doctor! I need a doctor!"

  *~*~*

  Bruce opened his eyes to the strangest feeling of déjà vu. He struggled a bit, trying to lift his hand in front of his face to make sure it wasn't cuffed to the bed. He felt hopelessly fuzzy. Focusing his thoughts in any direction seemed like such a trial. He didn't think he was hand cuffed.

  "You're awake." There was Leo, coming to stand up from the chair next to his hospital bed. "Don't try to move. Not yet. How are you feeling?"

  Bruce looked at him, but his gaze moved past him too, to the hole in the hospital wall.

  "Heh, could be… better." Bruce swallowed, feeling the back of his throat was dry, and sore. How long had it been since he'd had something to drink? He attempted to sit up, but his arms felt too wobbly to support him. "What happened?" he asked, moving saliva around in his mouth. The words sounded thicker than he would have liked.

  "Here, have some ice chips." Leo lifted a cup towards him, hesitated, then reached into the cup with two fingers and a thumb. Raising his eyebrow as though to make sure this was okay, Leo hovered the ice chips in front of Bruce's mouth.

  He opened his mouth. What else could he really do?

  And then, god, those little ice chips were pieces of heaven. He couldn't help but moan.

  "Yeah." Leo was smiling. "The nurses said you'd like them."

  Leo. It was really Leo. Smiling at him, dressed in blue jeans and a loose sports jersey. Behind that smile, though, there was real worry in his eyes.

  "I'm okay," he croaked, not sure whether he was more trying to reassure himself or Leo.

  "You will be." Leo nodded his head twice, the stern expression not leaving his face. His jaw tightened, and he said, "It's my fault. You wouldn't have ended up like this if I hadn't been so slow to respond."

  "Respond?" Bruce's brow furrowed. Maybe he was too high on pain medication, but Leo's words didn't make sense. He craned his head towards the monitor and his IV, before remembering he had no idea how to read any of that.

  Leo stared at Bruce, then said, "How much do you remember?"

  "It's the strangest thing," Bruce said. "I had this really vivid dream and it's… really messing up what I remember?"

  "How so?" Leo stopped pacing, but didn't come any closer to Bruce.

  Bruce chuckled under his breath. He couldn't believe he was about to say this. "Leo… You're not a superhero, are you?"

  "Not anymore," Leo said solemnly. "I'm done. After all this, I'm done. You're right. You've been right all along."

  Bruce felt a spinning in his head, and he was glad he was already lying down. "What happened to me?" he whispered, feeling horror sweating out from his pores.

  "You lost a lot of blood. Luckily, I'm O pos." Leo gave a half smile here, but there was still sadness and worry in his eyes. "The dog bite infected you with something strange. But my blood seems to have antibodies to it, and it's keeping you stable, for now. You were a bit of a lab rat for a while there." Leo thrust a hand through his hair. "We brought the dog in. The labs are working on something to reverse it. You'll be out of here soon."

  Bruce had never seen Leo look so worried. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked softly.

  Leo glared at Bruce, then breathed out. "The plan of the aliens… the Kath'lar, upon finding out that we would hit them all simultaneously, was to have the genetically engineered canines attack all the humans in range. I don't know if they'll be able to…." Leo took a deep breath out, then in. "They're also trying to replicate my blood in the lab downstairs. I can't… give out my blood to every person who's been infected. But some of them are already showing signs of their bodies being overloaded, and their minds… Even if whatever it is about my blood was replicated, there's still the distance it needs to travel to get to some of these hospitals…"

  Leo was showing signs of breaking down too; only very narrowly seeming to hold it together. Their hands were now clasped just as tightly from both sides. Bruce remembered what McCartney had said, about the Kath'lar knowing they would need to eradicate the species already on the planet.

  "I… think the dog that bit you was connected to this," Bruce started, huskily. "McCartney indicated that they were linked, the dog that bit me, and the one that made you into, well, a superhero." It seemed wrong, somehow, to comment on that now, just after Leo had told him that there were people whose bodies were tearing themselves apart due to some alien infection or genetic engineering.

  "Which would be why my blood is keeping you afloat."

  "Which would be why," Bruce repeated dismally. He shook his head. "This is my fault. I told you to wait. You said… you said…"

  "Shhh," Leo said. "It doesn't matter what I said."

  But it did matter. To Bruce, it mattered a lot. "You said if people die because of this, it's on my head too."

  "Nobody's died yet," Leo told him roughly.

  "But that's not to say nobody's going to." The expenditure of such emotion was tiring to him, but Bruce felt he deserved that as punishment for not doing as much as had been humanly possible while they'd still had the time. Perhaps they could have averted this… "It's my fault."

  "Don't think like that!" Leo told him forcefully.

  "I can't help it," Bruce said, feeling lost.

  "You're supposed to be resting, not thinking like this," Leo growled.

  It was true. Bruce felt like he could close his eyes and fall asleep within seconds, but he fought against it. "I'm sorry…" he whispered.

  Leo was silent next to him for a short time, then he sighed. "I need to apologize for something else as well. You're right. I have been thinking I'm invincible. Indispensable. Important. That's who I want to be. And that's just been handed to me in this need bundle of superpowers."

  Sleepily, Bruce reached up his second hand, and Leo caught it in his. "I didn't realize… what you've gone through… Of course that changed you. As well as the superpowers. I didn't realize."

  Leo was quiet, but Bruce could hear his breathing. Then, "I didn't tell you," Leo said, eventually. "I didn't want you to look at me like that."

  "Like what?" Bruce's eyebrows bunched up above closed eyes.

  "Like a victim."

  "Leo…" Bruce didn't think he had space for any new emotions, but he did. He was shocked at hearing this. "I'd never see you as a victim."

  Leo's lips firmed under Bruce's gaze. "Sometimes I do."

  Their fingers tightened around each other again. They were silent a while longer, but then Bruce didn't want that to be the line that lingered in both their minds any longer. "I want you to still be able to like yourself when you look at yourself. That's why I've been vocal." He gave a tired laugh. "It would be too cruel if you looked like you want to look on the outside, but didn't like yourself on the inside anymore."

  Leo gave a quiet sigh. His hands pulled away, and Bruce's felt cold without the contact. "I'm keeping you awake," he said, as he settled back into the chair rest behind him. "You should sleep."

  "Leo…"

  "Tomorrow," Leo said. "There'll be time for all of that tomorrow."

  "Okay," he agreed, begrudgingly. "I'm just gonna close my eyes, just for a second. I'm still listening…"

  *~*~*


  Bruce had no idea how long he'd been asleep, but when he woke up again, it was dark outside the single window in his hospital room. With a gasp, he attempted to sit up, then lay back down when the room took a shift to the left.

  Leo was by his side in a second.

  "Did someone call my work?" Bruce asked him urgently. "I'm already on a written warning…"

  "I called," Leo said, taking Bruce's hand. His tone was warm and gentle.

  Bruce gave a small smile, closing his eyes again. "Good," he murmured, smiling. "You're always here for me."

  "Always," Leo said.

  *~*~*

  It was a conversation happening outside his room that woke Bruce up the next time.

  "Leo?" he murmured softly.

  Leo wasn't next to his bed. A moment later, he heard Leo's voice outside his room.

  "Isolated a strain? Do you have a medication for that?"

  "It's not that simple. There are no guarantees. This isn't something we've medicated against before."

  A pause. Then, from Leo, "Bruce would be a guinea pig. Again."

  "He will need to sign a waiver this time," came the reply. "He's no longer listed as needing emergency treatment."

  "I understand."

  "There's something else."

  A pause. Bruce could only guess that Leo was looking inquiringly at the doctor.

  "We've kept an eye on the blood you supplied us. It's degenerating, even before we try to replicate it. Not as fast as Bruce but… We thought whatever this alien virus was had stabilized in you, but it's just taking longer to break down. Do you understand what I'm saying, Mr. Hart? Your case isn't as severe as Bruce's, or any of the others who have been taken in, but your body is breaking down all the same."

  Another long pause. Then, "Thank you, Doctor."

  Footsteps coming back towards his bed.

  "Are you awake?"

  "Sort of," Bruce replied. His head was in a whirl.

  "There might be medication for you. The scientists downstairs have isolated a strain of the chemical inserted into your body. But it's experimental. You'll have to sign a waiver," Leo said.