“Why should I think you are not Nightmare’s puppet anymore? You yourself told us you acted of your own volition when you destroyed the Mystic River facility,” a second psychologist asked.
“True, but if my inhibitions were intact, I might not have so brazenly murdered everyone I thought was evil.”
“Are you jealous of Quinn?” a third psychologist asked. This person was in the first briefing session as well.
Blake glanced at her. “No. Why would I be?”
“You told us earlier some of your powers didn’t develop as quickly as Quinn’s did.”
“I am stronger than Quinn. I nearly killed him twice. Why would I be jealous of him?”
“You could not fly right away and your powers of flight may not be equal to his.”
“And he doesn’t have telekinesis.”
“And the TaseBolts affect you, not him,” she countered again.
Really? “What are you getting at?”
“Are you jealous of Quinn?” she repeated.
Blake stared into space for a moment. Am I jealous of my best friend? Of everything he’s built? Of his efforts to stop…me when I was Dark Flame? “I don’t think so, no.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“I’ve never been asked that question until today.”
“What about Quinn upsets you the most?” the first psychologist asked.
“Quinn and I have been out of sorts for several months. I’m not sure that’s a fair question.”
“How about back when you first got your powers?”
“He always wanted me to be sidekick, and I resented him for that. I’m not second class or second-best.”
“So you have a superiority complex?” the second psychologist asked.
Blake turned and faced the man. “What? No. What are you getting at?”
“Do you think you’re better than Quinn?” the first psychologist asked.
Blake somberly looked at the conference table and reflected for a moment. “No, not after the things I’ve done. Quinn was skeptical of Victor and his skepticism was on point. If I had an ounce of Quinn’s wisdom, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Is that what you think we want to hear?” the third psychologist asked.
He huffed with frustration. “Honestly, I don’t know what you people want to hear from me.”
“I’m interested in knowing why you think we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Agent Potter asked.
Blake looked at him. “Because even though I wouldn’t have been his sidekick, we should have become some kind of dynamic duo, as corny as that sounds. Then again, having super powers seemed pretty ridiculous as well. All Quinn wanted was to do amazing things and help people. I turned my back on him when I left home.”
“What was your relationship like with your father?” The first psychologist asked.
“Terrible, but you knew that already.”
“Indulge us.”
“He’s an alcoholic monster. He’s never liked me and he treats me and my mom like shit. All she does is stand up for him. He’s beaten me and never said anything nice to me. I’m not sure if he’s ever been proud of me.”
“And your mother?”
“She thinks he’s funny and will defend him no matter what he does. The two of them will always choose booze over me.”
“What about your sister?”
“Elizabeth?” Blake felt anger rising in his blood. Keep calm…don’t use your powers. They’ll only think you’re gonna hurt them. “She made the right choice to leave. I assume she found a better life.”
“I see.”
“When Victor showed up, I…I guess I saw the chance to make something of myself.”
“Why Victor over Quinn? What did Victor have that Quinn didn’t?” Agent Potter asked.
“Money, for starters, and the fact that Victor offered me a way out of my shitty family life. I regret turning my back on Quinn and choosing a selfish path that led to incredible destruction and chaos.”
“Do you think that’s enough?” a naval officer asked.
“Uh, what?”
“Regret?”
Blake shook his head. “I honestly don’t know what it takes to ask for this kind of forgiveness.”
“So, what are you looking for then?” the first psychologist asked.
“A second chance.”
“And if we say no?” Agent Hartman asked.
“I’ll leave.”
“And go where?”
Blake tapped the table for a moment. “I’ll do what the super kid at the end of the movie Chronicle did. I’ll go find a monastery in the Himalayas where no one will find me.”
“You’d be willing to waste such talent on such a boring existence?” Agent Potter asked.
Blake frowned. “What good is this kind of talent if nobody appreciates what you can do? Or worse, won’t forgive the horrible things you’ve done and won’t look past the microchip that affected me. I’m not sure what the right penance is for the things I’ve done, whether the actions were mine or influenced by the microchip.”
“How do we know the chip in your head is really gone? How can we verify it was destroyed?” a military official asked.
“I don’t know, can’t you take a CAT scan or do an MRI? Maybe even a simple x-ray will show you there’s nothing there. You people have the medical experts, you tell me.”
“I saw it,” Agent Hartman said. He described the electricity that Quinn produced with his bare hands to incinerate the chip.
Yay, someone finally stood up for me.
It was the last time someone stood up for him that day. Another five grueling hours with two bathroom breaks passed before the second gauntlet of agents, psychologists, and military medical officers packed up their things and left the room. Only Agents Hartman and Potter and the soldiers at the door remained.
Without words, the two men seemed to be in agreement about his fate or the next step. Agent Hartman leaned forward and folded his hands in front of him. Agent Potter sat back and adopted a relaxed posture.
That looks like bad news, or the good cop, bad cop routine.
“I’m clearing you to leave the facility, but we expect you to lay low and avoid use of your powers until authorized. With the destruction of the naval prison, the public is fragile—especially the locals around Portsmouth and Kittery.”
Blake watched the two soldiers standing near the door glance at one another with surprise and then quickly recompose themselves. So are the military forces; I can’t blame them.
Blake frowned and looked at Agent Hartman. “Why are you letting me go exactly?”
“For a few reasons. Firstly, we couldn’t stop you from leaving if you wanted to. Secondly, if Nightmare returns, I don’t want him sensing you and discovering the location of this base. Thirdly, the public thinks Dark Flame is dead. Consider yourself under house arrest in your condo until further notice.”
Bullshit.
“You can’t expect me to sit in my condo and not go out,” Blake replied defiantly.
“That’s exactly what I expect, but since you demonstrated rebellious tendencies as a normal teenager before your super powers came to be, you will probably do what you want. Consider this an opportunity to prove your intentions to us. Like I said a moment ago, we expect you to lay low and avoid use of your powers until authorized.”
Blake sighed. “Fine.”
“Quinn should be here to pick you up,” Agent Potter said.
“Is he my escort or something?”
Potter smiled. “No, the last time I checked, he was your best friend. That’s what best friends do when you’ve had a rough day.”
The agents stood, grabbed their things, and left the room. The two soldiers followed them out.
A grin forced its way onto Blake’s face. Well, he’s right, I guess. Blake stood and made his way through the facility to Quinn, who was lying on a couch watching TV in one of the lounges.
“Hey, sense
d you coming,” Quinn said, smiling.
“I’m starving. Can we get food?”
“Sure, have anything in mind?”
“Yeah, pizza!”
“Joe’s?” Quinn asked, sitting up.
“You know it,” Blake replied, smiling.
“Let’s go! My dad’s car is parked outside.”
5-12 | Reunions
Quinn
QUINN WATCHED BLAKE INHALE HALF of the pepperoni pizza they ordered in the time it took for them to leave the restaurant and pull into a parking space outside of Blake’s condo. Quinn regarded his best friend with astonishment.
“What?” Blake asked. “I haven’t eaten in almost two weeks. I’m starving!”
“Oh, wow. I didn’t realize that. It’s a good thing we got three pizzas, then.”
The boys got out of the car and Quinn looked up at the luxury condo building. “I can’t believe you scored a place to live here. How do you afford it?”
“Victor gave me a big stipend when I left my parents’ house so I could get settled. I cashed the check and it’s been sitting in my bank account. I also receive a generous salary every two weeks. It’s kinda like a paycheck, I guess. Hopefully, in all the confusion someone will forget to do the bookkeeping and I’ll keep getting paid. The last thing I want to do is move back home. Besides, when you see this place, you’ll understand why I want to stay.”
“If they stop paying you, can you afford it?”
Blake smiled. “Yeah, I could buy four of these.”
“Holy crap!” Quinn exclaimed. “You have that much money?”
Blake shrugged. “It’s just money.”
A few minutes later, Blake unlocked his condo, pushed open the front door, and let Quinn inside. Quinn entered the spacious condo and looked around, wide-eyed. “Wow, top floor and all the works. You struck the jackpot, buddy. This is a really nice place.”
“I know, right? Come on, let’s eat. I’m still starving.” Blake led Quinn over to the kitchen island and set the pizza boxes down on the granite counter. He went to the fridge, pulled out two root beers, and then sat next to his best friend. Quinn pulled out a slice of Hawaiian pizza from one of the boxes.
“That looks so good,” Blake said, helping himself to a slice.
“So, how did your interrogation go?” Quinn asked, trying not to be awkward about what the DHS must have put him through.
Blake shook his head as he chewed a mouthful of pizza. “Pure torture. They asked so many random questions about any topic they could think of. It’s like they were purposefully jumping all over the place to confuse me.”
“They probably were,” Quinn replied.
Blake nodded. “I know, I’m sure they were trying to catch me in a lie or something.”
“Mmhmm,” Quinn mumbled back. “They are terrified of you, and now they’re terrified of Victor. It was bad enough when I was the only known superhuman, but then you showed up and started doing all kinds of horrible things.”
“I know, and I’m really sorry. I’m only going to say this once, but I’m really sorry I didn’t listen to you. I should have listened to myself when I encouraged you to be the best superhero you could be, but Victor was so…charming. I want to say seductive but that sounds too creepy and weirdly sexual. You were right about Victor and The Order all along.”
Quinn grinned. “And I’m only going to say this once: I told you so.”
The boys chuckled, then Quinn changed the subject. “So, um, I know you said you didn’t want to be my sidekick, but…”
Blake raised a hand to stop him. “You’re right, I don’t. I will tell you the same thing I told the interrogators. Things would be better today if I made different choices several months ago. We should have become some kind of dynamic duo. All you wanted was to do amazing things and help people. I turned my back on you when I left home, and I’m sorry. I did horrible, unspeakable things to you. I don’t deserve your friendship and I would understand if you never want to see me again.”
“If that were the case, we would not be having pizza together like old times.”
“Thank you. I think I’m still in shock that you have forgiven me.”
“Forgive you? Blake, all I’ve wanted to do since the day we went our separate ways is get my best friend back. I knew something was wrong and I knew Victor had some kind of control over you. When you started acting out I was surprised as hell to learn of the things you did, but once I figured out the control chip was malfunctioning, I knew one day I would get my best friend back. I never gave up on you.”
Tears formed in Blake’s eyes and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. “I don’t know how to thank you for not giving up on me.”
Quinn lowered his slice of pizza, squeezed his best friend’s shoulder with his free hand, and smiled mischievously. “Promise me you will never work for The Order again and help make us the best superhero duo ever.”
Blake smiled. “I promise. But what about that pink woman? What’s her deal? What was her name again?”
Quinn shrugged and raised his slice of pizza. He studied it for moment before responding. “I don’t think the superhero life is for Ana Maria. I suspect that when this is over and Victor has been captured or defeated, she will either disappear or work with Agent Hartman.”
“You think she’s going to work for the government?” Blake asked through a mouthful of pizza.
Quinn tilted his head from side to side as he thought about Blake’s question. “My crystal ball is cloudy on that one, but I suspect if the offer is good, she would.”
When the boys polished off the pizzas, Blake dropped the empty boxes into his recycling bin and took out the trash. Miraculously, it didn’t smell after sitting in the condo for two weeks. As Blake busied himself with a few domestic chores, Quinn tapped out text messages to his dads, Loren, Ravone, and Keegan. When he finished and received satisfactory responses, he set his phone on the counter and looked at Blake.
“So, um, I don’t know if it’s too soon or not, but with everything that’s coming, we might as well rip the Blake Band-Aid off tonight.”
“What does that mean?” Blake asked. He leaned his buttocks against the counter opposite where Quinn sat.
“You’re going to change your clothes and then we’re going to my house. There are some people who can’t wait to see you.”
“My parents better not be there,” Blake replied flatly.
Quinn shook his head. “Don’t worry, they won’t be. You can visit them in your own time. Besides, other than our small circle of friends and my dads, nobody knows you’re dead. Had died. Were dead. Had been dead. Are alive. Wow, whatever the right phrase is.”
The boys chuckled together.
“I think I know who will be there.” Blake sighed. “All right, let’s do this.”
❖
Blake
As Quinn pulled into his driveway, Blake recognized the three cars parked on the street.
“I guess we’re going to do everyone at once, Huh?”
Quinn chuckled as he nosed his father’s SUV into the garage and shut off the car. “Like I said, we’re going to rip the Band-Aid off. Are you nervous?”
“Yeah, why?”
“It’s really hot in here and the car’s heater is turned off.”
“Oh.”
“Do you make heat when you’re nervous?”
Blake shrugged. “I thought it happened when I was angry, but I have that under control.”
“Well, please don’t burn the house down.” Quinn said with a laugh.
Blake rolled his eyes. “I won’t.”
“Maybe heat is your emotional response like my electrical fluctuations are for me.”
“What?”
“When I get really emotional or when Keegan and I get busy, the lights flicker, remember?”
“Oh yeah, like in the library when you found your balls and asked him out.”
Quinn burst into laugher. “Exactly. “Come on, buddy, let’s get this
over with.” A moment later, Blake followed Quinn into the house. “We’re home,” Quinn called out.
“We’re in the kitchen,” Aren called back. The air smelled as though food was being cooked.
He’s always cheerful…whereas my dad is always so…
As the boys hung their coats, Quinn whispered to Blake, “My dads put out a spread. You’re probably still hungry and I think they assume food makes things go easier with us teenage folk.”
Blake grinned and rubbed his stomach. “Actually, I’m not ashamed to admit I’m still hungry after eating a pizza and a half.”
“Me either. You ready?”
“No, but do I have a choice?”
Quinn smiled. “Not tonight. Come on.”
Blake followed Quinn down the hallway and into the kitchen where the McAlester dads stood near the island, chatting with Keegan, Ravone, and Loren. Everyone turned to face them as they entered the kitchen.
Blake noticed Keegan’s face twist with displeasure. Then, he got up from his seat at the kitchen island and walked to the far side of the room, putting distance and the island between him and the super boys.
“Huh,” Quinn muttered under his breath. Blake immediately sensed Keegan was uncomfortable, but he was grateful Quinn convinced him to come. If I’m going to make it up to him somehow, tonight is where it starts. Quinn was right.
“Hi guys, look who I found,” Quinn announced, trying to lighten the tension in the room.
His dads responded right away and helped alleviate the thick tension in the room. Aren came around from the far side of the kitchen island and put his arms out to embrace Blake.
“Welcome home, kiddo. It’s so good to have you back,” Aren said. Then, he wrapped his arms around Blake and gave him a profound hug.
It would be nice to call this home…don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…crap, too late.
Unexpected emotions bubbled up from deep within and Blake sobbed on Aren’s shoulder.
My dad would never be this nice to me. A moment later, he felt Tim’s arms around him as well.
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