#aka the crack before the shitstorm

[butter--peanut]

Ngl really looking forward to the Kakashi Konan bonding fic. Could you give us a little peak? 👀

“This is an essential planning meeting,” said Pein, as his Human Path distributed poster paper and multi-coloured felt-tip markers. “Use your ingenuity to think up how our organisation can perform better into the new year. We take your ideas into strong consideration, so please do your best.”

That was garbage, of course: this whole day was pointless, because the Akatsuki’s real decisions were made by Obito, Nagato, and Konan, with occasional input by Black Zetsu. The Planning Day was just Nagato’s big idea to make the Akatsuki members feel like they were contributing to the organisation, and hence, more loyal to the organisation; a tip he’d picked up from an organisational management book that Konan had brought him (spending your life sitting in a dark room with rods stuck in your back could get a bit dull, apparently, so Konan ensured he had plenty of reading material).

“Okay, team!” Obito said to Kisame and Zetsu. “Let’s think up a big, grand idea that’s gonna revolutionise the Akatsuki.” Leaning over, stage whispering across the table, “Psssst. Sukea. What are your ideas?”

Sukea had been talking quietly with Konan and Itachi, but now he briefly looked up and raised his eyebrows at Obito. “I think we were told to work in our assigned groups, Tobi,” he said amiably. “But I’m more than happy to share our ideas. When we present them to the group as a whole.”

A brutal, crushing rejection. Siding with his group over Obito. The little shit.

“Sukea is cruel,” Obito complained. “Everyone knows you have the best ideas, and we’re partners, so why can’t we just share — c’mon, Leader, put us together—”

“Some of us are thinking,” Kakuzu said darkly, “and the rest of us should shut up.”

Obito pouted, then sighed and turned back to his group. “Fine,” said. “Kisame, my friend,” emphasising the last word, hoping Sukea would hear and feel jealous, “how do you feel about disguise?”

[goodguidanceptc]

Ironman New Zealand Race Report  March 2, 2019

Welcome masochists and insomniacs. When people ask me about my races, I usually try to deliver a balance of facts (split times, data, total race time) and feelings (mind & body perceptions, key moments) in an entertaining yet succinct report. As usual, that often means STRONG LANGUAGE. Here goes:

Prologue:

A few weeks prior to the trip, I learned that I’d been selected for the “Ironman New Zealand Experience,” an online contest, administered with typical Kiwi approach by the local council. Read: relaxed, with ZERO Ironman lawyers involved. Six men and six women were selected--based on online posts--to learn a haka, perform at the athlete dinner and attend an after-race luncheon that included a presentation and performance of Maori history and traditions. 

I suspect my "pick me! pick me!” post got me plucked from a small applicant pool. Supporting evidence: of the twelve selected, two others were my training buddies from Chicago, Christine B. and Bernie Mc. SIDE NOTE: Each winner was allowed one additional guest at the luncheon--so a very special thanks to Christine for graciously counting my wife as her guest which meant I had both my wife and son at the luncheon.

Haka is Maori for “breathe fire.” Historically, hakas were performed by Maori warriors prior to battle. These days they are performed ceremonially to celebrate major milestones (marriage, retirement), honor important guests or--perhaps most notably--to intimidate opponents at athletic events (here’s a link). Outside of New Zealand, the most famous and awe-inspiring hakas are performed my the Maori All-Blacks National Rugby team prior to each match. 

I learned that there are hundreds of haka versions, each with its own inherent weight baked into the story it’s presenting. Although it was very different than the aggressive, male-only, pre-battle version the All-Blacks perform, I personally felt a tremendous honor and reverence for the one we learned.

The haka preserves indigenous culture, energetically injects traditional language into a modern forum, gathers and channels group energy by seamlessly melding ritual gesture and movement with raw emotion. It all adds up to a sum greater than it’s parts that’s simultaneously respectful and rebellious. Taken as a whole, the haka is something like how the Incredible Hulk would dance if the Incredible Hulk danced.

All of which is just to say that before I even started the race, I’d already experienced that tremendous joy that comes with receiving an unexpectedly perfect gift. IMNZ was already a success before the race even started. Now, let’s get back to facts...

Total race time = 11:33

Not a PR, but a mature result. “Mature?” you may be wondering, “Really?” Granted, few people would describe anything I do as mature, so perhaps a better word is un-deluded. Why? Because plantar fasciitis made for a “No-Run November” (all long runs performed in a pool), I hadn’t done enough resistance training, and winter holidays not only make it impossible to train, they make it nearly impossible to fuel properly. 

In his book, Elite Minds, Dr. Stanley Beecham suggests giving yourself a W when you trained your best and an L if you didn’t. My record for this training sequence (Nov-Feb) was 89-20-11. ( I gave myself T for Ties on days when training went right but something else went bad...usually diet.) In other words, a respectable-but-not-stellar W average (.741) earned a respectable-but-not-stellar result.

But still, the haka was awesome.

Pre-Race

Slept well. Ate well. No mechanical issues. Huddled briefly with most of the training buddies and Iron sherpas prior to warming up properly in the water.

Swim (1:06 total swim time)

Clear sighting, aggressive line, good tactics (drafted when possible), and even got some help from the current towards the end. That said, the two turn buoys at the far end were both a raucous scrum. First time I ever took a hard shot to the lip. My best swim ever. 

T1 (7:49)

"T1 is a 400 meter run from the swim out...” My ass. If that’s 400 meters, I’m Leslie Jones from SNL. Plus, AFTER the “400 meters,” a winding grass staircase comparable to any third-floor-walk-up or Wisconsin helix--easily another +50 meters at an +8% grade.

Once I did get up Mount Metric Bullshit, I moved right along. Sprayed on some sunscreen, stuffed a plastic bag under the regular bike jersey with some light gloves (in case it was nippy for the first hour), shoes on in the tent. Go.

Bike (5:38, technically a bike PR)

Two loops. Windy? A tad. The outbound tailwind was so strong, I struggled to maintain target watts. Get that? I didn’t have to pedal as hard as I’d trained to because I was easily traveling +20 mph on flat sections. Ditched the plastic bag and gloves at the first aid station because it was sunny and mild and I was feeling really great. Of course, logic dictates that inbound would be a shitstorm. Which it was. Oy. Mixed with some crosswinds too just in case you, oh I dunno...tried to pee on the bike and took too long...or wanted to take in some nutrition. Nasty. I caught myself using a bastardized mantra from IMAZ, “Frontside fast side, backside strong side” which morphed into “Out bound, throw down; In bound, get down.” whenever I was tempted to chase or draft.

A word on drafting: it’s illegal in Ironman races. BUT! By slipping into the draft zone of somebody passing faster than you are passing then letting them go, you can save energy and still stay within the letter and spirit of the rule. That said, 12 meters = 6ish bike lengths so don’t be the fucko that lingers.

Repeated that song and dance inbound on both loops. It’s a terrible thing when you can’t stay in aero-position because you gotta pee but can’t pee because the wind stuffs any momentum you need to keep your leg straight long enough to break the seal. But it WILL keep you legal.

For you data geeks: Normalized Power was 197 but I AVERAGED 20 m.p.h.

Another notable: the bone-shaking chip-seal they use to pave most New Zealand roads. It just rattled my whole rig from pedals to fingertips to helmet. That shit literally rattled my Torpedo bottle right out from between my aero-bars about halfway through. I’d already taken in the nutrition so I left it (apologies to all the Tidy Kiwis and the whole leave-it-like-you-found-it philosophy) and just held fresh bottles in with my thumbs as needed.

T2 (4:13)

Efficient but could have been a tad quicker. At this point in the race, I was on plan, feeling good and ready to attack the run. Nutrition was on point. Legs were solid, stomach was a non-issue and weather conditions were near ideal. Sunny and delightful low 70s. I was actually looking forward to Run Special Needs where I’d planted a fresh shirt and an extra bottle of nutrition.

Run (4:36 aka: avg 10:39/mi)

I went sub-4 hours in Louisville under raining mid-40 degree conditions. If I could have just matched that, I’d have delivered a juicy PR of under 11 hours.

It seemed reasonable that flat IM-LOU shitstorm would vaguely equate to hilly IM-NZ sunny delight, yes? 

No.

That three loop run over what my training bro Andrew T. would call offensive hills was having none of that nonsense. Turns out, I was woefully undertrained. My legs were just not up to the second and third loop of hills, despite biking to plan, executing nutrition properly, and taking the first loop at a very easy RPE.

In past reports I’ve shared some of the actual mental chatter that runs through my head but in this case none of my mantras were very interesting or helpful. What I have learned to do when I’m truly falling apart is to reinvest in technique. Focus on the extremely immediate present, which I used to counter punch one particularly angry and persistent neg that I just couldn’t shake. See if you can pick it out of the following scientifically gathered brainwave transcription:

...chatter-chatter-chatter...BREATHE...left-right-left-right-Toe-off-knees-up-hands-up-lean-easy-at-the-ankles-glutes-tucked-somebody-fucking-LIED-to-me-goddamBREATHE!-Toe-off-knees-up-hands-up-lean-easy-at-the-ankles-glutes-tucked-somebody-fucking-LIED-to-me-goddamnit-Toe-off-left-right-left...chatter-chatter-chatter...BREATHE

On a slightly more-vulnerable note, I will share this: typically, a few tears leak out at special needs. Hormones? Pain? Mental breakdown/relief that the marathon is half over? All of the above, probably. Just a few moments of a grown man losing it. (Do NOT watch Ricky Gervais’ After Life while jet lagged. But DO watch it. Amazing. Shut up. Don’t judge my process.)

Anyway, I was all business during the Special Needs of this run but lost it right after a particularly steep descend where some guardian bros had set up an “unofficial aid station” consisting of Red Bull, handles of vodka, and liters of Jaegermeister. A runner just ahead of me had grabbed something off their card table and their robust cheering were suddenly horrific screams warning him off of chugging it. I was just tickled and toasted at the same time and it all came gushing out. Just all kinds of quads burning gasping ugly face craughing (learned that word from a tweet praising After Life, btw). Of course my male ego would NEVER allow me to overly express vulnerability in front of the drunken bros, thoughtful though they were. So I kept running. A woman running along side me kindly asked if I was okay, I said, “Oh...yeah...this...just happens,” between gulping breaths, “The good...news...is...it’s much...later...than usual.” Which cracked her up, so... y’know, pay it forward.

After slogging my way through the third loop, and making my way through the finishing chute, where the normally incomparable Mike Reilly butchered my last name, I was told that I’d been on the leaderboard during the bike and immediately fell off during the run.

So even though I did not over-bike, I did under-train. Plus, I did not need to go directly to Medical in shock, which suggests that my race plan, nutrition strategy and execution was pretty spot on. IMAZ was a PR of 11:19 and IMNZ was 11:33.

OVERALL RACE GRADE: C. Just a C. 

OVERALL EXPERIENCE GRADE: A+

As with prior races, IMNZ yielded some incremental improvements. As I said at the top, this was a mature result, with which I am unsatisfied. I haven't yet done my best race. I haven’t yet DONE MY BEST. There is clearly opportunity for improvements to all five aspects of my racing:

Swim was well executed. Still room for growth.

Bike was properly executed. Adequate. If anything, I could have pushed more.

Run. Ugh. Time to throw myself into Runner’s World and CARA and make like Forrest Gump and Prefontaine and Mo. Also, back to Hokas. Or maybe Altras. The Brooks I ran in were farts. The blisters on my toes had blisters. Not kidding.

Fuel strategy and execution was on point, although I was a few kilos heavier than previous races. Holidays and too few resistance training sessions.

Transitions were adequate.

Am I one of the guys at the pointy end of the bell curve? Clearly still yes. Maybe I’ve just evolved beyond a standard group training plan. Self-Coach? I’ve got the credentials and experience. Back to a previous coach? Maybe a new coach? I’d take some applications. Yes.

In the meantime, I’ll see you in Chattanooga for some 70.3 action in May, 2019. That’s only two build cycles. Ima go noodle around in TrainingPeaks.

WAIT. HERE’S THE BERNIE STORY...

Bernie McNally is one of those people I am just glad to have in my life. This race report would be wholly inadequate if I didn't share how this amazing woman is absolutely unstoppable.

First, she got everybody who trained for New Zealand (at Well-Fit) a fleece.

I forgot to mention she broke her ribs in a bike accident a few months ago.

Then, in what can only be described as the luck of the Irish, she charmed her way into the “New Zealand Experience” haka class. Just showed up and got in. Turns out one of the women selected didn’t show up. Classic.

Here’s the unstoppable part: at around Mile 110 of the New Zealand Full fucking Ironman race, she hit a cone and went over her bike handle bars. Road rash up her arm, split her knee open and cracked her head/helmet on a curb. A bystander said, “Do you need some help? I’m calling an ambulance.”

Her reply?

“Just help me get my chain back on.”

So he did. And she finished the bike. The medics in T2 told her she needed stitches.  She said she didn’t have time, to just patch her up so she could get on with it. She finished the race with half an hour to spare. Words fail.

All I know is this: whenever I’m feeling like I can’t get it done--and it can be anything from driving in traffic to folding laundry to a holding pace on a long run--I know exactly what I’ll hear. 

A thick, sassy, Irish brogue doing the haka.

WITH GRATITUDE FOR…

I’m very grateful to my lovely wife Susan and my wonderful kids, Peter and Veronica for their support. Susan, you are my salvation.

I’m grateful to have the expert professionals Coach Russ and Coach Sharone and the entire Well-Fit staff and athletes who generously share their wisdom.

I’m grateful to my inspiring and impressive training partners. Especially the seven hardcore savages that got it done in New Zealand--Adam, Christine, Dan, Kelly, Megan, Mike, Will and Bernie.

I’m very grateful to anybody willing to excuse my terrible smell, deplorable language and barbaric sounds during training.

Maximum gratitude to Well-Fit, Get-A-Grip, Fleet Feet and all the pools I use.

I’m grateful for Crushing Iron (C26), Matt Fitzgerald, Joe Friel, Training Peaks, Scott brand bikes, Apple, Ironman.

Thank you to all the on-course maniacs cheering and making signs and wearing all sorts of crazy outfits to show love and support. For strangers exercising.

I’m grateful that I’m able to race triathlons. I’m grateful to you for reading.

[aphrodaisyacs]

Chapter summary:

Tony (internally): Oh my god I bet he still hates me. Steve (internally): Oh my god I bet he still hates me.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Heimdall (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff, Bruce Banner, Thanos (Marvel), Stephen Strange, Tony Stark, James “Bucky” Barnes, Guardians of the Galaxy Team, Steve Rogers, T'Challa (Marvel), Peter Parker Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Shitstorm with a Happy Ending, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, POV Multiple, Loss of Limbs, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Canon-Typical Violence

Links if you want to read on tumblr:

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

Can you believe I completed my first fanfic? Me neither.

Here’s the epilogue, aka the long awaited Steve & Tony reconciliation below:

Tony slept through the entire ride back to Earth.

It wouldn’t have been such a bad thing, per se, if it weren’t for the fact that he did it while slumped over the Milano’s main table in a hard stool.

Tony stretches, then winces at the series of cracks that follow.

He’s getting too old for this.

The arrival of the group from Titan receive a less than warm welcome from those in Wakanda. Which, fair enough, since previously all spaceships to Earth had meant bad news. The Wakandan soldiers only put down their weapons after everyone steps out of the Milano. Tony gets practically tackled and squeezed to death by Rhodey, and he can faintly register Heimdall suffering the same fate behind him, courtesy of Thor.

Turns out he had missed a laundry list’s worth of things since stowing away on that space donut, which was only what, a day ago? Bruce is back, so’s Thor and even Loki (who’s apparently blue now and no longer crazy and bent on taking over the world). Steve and the other ex-Avengers are here too, and Tony does his best to ignore the twinge in his chest at the sight of them.

Luckily for Tony and his aversion to long overdue conversations, Thanos’ latest army had left such a mess in Wakanda that everyone is needed to help with the clean-up. There isn’t much they can do about whatever the hell happened to the grass fields, so they focus their efforts on the scattered corpses and whatever alien tech had been left behind.

But unluckily for him, Steve is determined to talk to him, and Tony can’t believe he’d almost forgotten how damn stubborn the man can be. Steve has been unsubtly glancing at Tony’s way for the past ten or so minutes with that slight furrow between his brows, and Tony feigns ignorance and continues hauling alien corpses as if he wouldn’t rather launch himself into space again.

After all, he’s quite sure that Steve hates him.

Sure, Steve had said that he’d help if Tony needed him. But what if the moment he sees Tony again, he gets reminded of how much he hates the man who forced him to give up his shield, his symbol? The man who attacked his best friend, over something that said best friend was forced to do while tortured and brainwashed, even? Fucking hell, the more Tony thinks about it the more he feels like human garbage. He’s terrified at the idea of looking at Steve again for the first time since their fight, only for the other man to look back with hatred, disgust, disappointment or even apathy. And somehow apathy is the worst of the lot, because then it’d be as if Tony no longer means anything to him and that would hurt.

“Tony.”

Think of the devil.

Tony deliberately throws another alien corpse into the back of the clean-up vehicle before turning around.

“Cap!” he exclaims, with probably a bit too much forced enthusiasm. Steve gives him A Look, and yep, definitely too much enthusiasm, because he isn’t buying it at all.

An awkward silence hangs between them and Tony struggles not to fidget too much as he turns his gaze towards everything but Steve’s face. Come on Tony, say something, say something-

“So… I heard that you’ve teamed up with Loki over there. Guess your type is tall, dark and murderous, huh?”

Tony instantly regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth, because if the expression on Steve’s face is anything to go by, he doesn’t find the half-assed joke funny at all.

Figures Tony would ruin things before they can even begin.

The awkwardness of the silence now has a sour edge to it, and the idea of being launched into space again to fight a Thanos 2.0 is becoming more and more appealing.

Suddenly a different voice cuts in.

“Well gee, this is getting painful to watch,” Barnes huffs. He meets Steve’s withering glare with a raised eyebrow as he strides over to them. He turns to Tony.

“Now that I’ve recovered and gotten all the trigger words out-” Barnes heaves out a sigh and looks straight at Tony with a startling amount of sincerity. “You can arrest me. I promise I won’t run anymore.”

“Buck-” Steve begins, but stops when Barnes merely shakes his head. They wait for Tony’s response.

Tony takes in Steve’s tense stance and Barnes’ kicked puppy look. Instantly, any and all emotions he had been feeling at that point drain out of him, leaving him empty and exhausted.

“Look-” Tony begins, “I’ve had some time to think about it and I really shouldn’t have gone crazy on you like that. You were tortured for what, 70 years? I can’t stay mad at you for that, I mean, back in-” Tony’s words get stuck in his throat at the creeping memories of dark, cold and pain.“Back in Afghanistan I barely even lasted like two days before I…” Tony swallows. “Look- I’m sorry. For being hard on you.”

Barnes’ eyes widen.

“What are you-”

“Nuh! Uh! Shh! Let me finish!” Tony cuts in, and winces when Barnes visibly startles. “I’m not saying we go run off and get friendship bracelets or anything, but. I don’t hate you. HYDRA wanted my parents killed, and if it wasn’t you who did it, they would’ve ordered someone else to. So I don’t blame you for my parent’s deaths. I was an asshole to do that two years ago, and I’m sorry, okay?”

Tony’s heart is thumping loudly in his ears, from the dizzying exhilaration of finally getting to word-vomit the messy apology that had been stewing in his mind for too long. That, and also because he doesn’t know how Barnes will react.

Barnes blinks at him, but the act does nothing to stop the tears sliding down his face. He sniffs and shakes his head.

“No, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” His voice is unsteady with barely suppressed sobs. “It was still me that did it, my own hands. You had every right to be angry.”

Tony gives a tired smile, even as his chest twists with guilt. On the side, Steve doesn’t even bother trying to hide his pained expression at the sight of Bucky’s tears.

“Well, I’m not,” Tony says. “Not anymore. There wasn’t a point to staying angry at you. Got better things to do- suits to upgrade, Wakandan tech to play with, spiderlings to look out for…” He knows he’s rambling at this point, so he falls silent as he watches Barnes heave in shaky breaths while Steve rubs soothing circles on his back.

Eventually Steve leans in and says something to Barnes’ ear, to which makes Barnes straighten up. He gives Steve a parting hug, and nods at Tony after letting go. Barnes directs a final “don’t fuck this up” look at Steve, then walks away.

As Steve watches Bucky leave, he becomes acutely aware of the way his best friend had eased the discomfort of the silence hanging between him and Tony.

It’s a relief to see that Tony had forgiven Bucky. But if the way he is still refusing to look at Steve is any indication, then well… Steve can’t exactly blame Tony if he still hates him. Steve would understand if Tony never forgives him for what went down last time they saw each other. But at the same time, it’d feel wrong if he didn’t even attempt to mend bridges. Especially since for the first time in two years, they finally have a chance to talk.

“I thought that Earth lost its greatest defender,” Steve says before the silence can descend into awkwardness again. “But then it turns out that he went off to take care of the real problem. So thank you for saving the universe.”

Tony lightly scoffs at that and crosses his arms.

“Nah, that was mostly Gamora and Nebula. I helped, a little.” He finally looks at Steve, with a carefully neutral expression. “But you took care of things on your end too didn’t you?”

“Well,” Steve says. “That was mostly Wanda and Thor actually. But I guess I helped, a little.”

Tony lets out a small huff of laughter at that, and Steve can’t help the amused smile spreading across his face.

The silence between them is now companionable. Steve would like more than anything to bask in it a little longer, but he clears his throat.

“I’m sorry. For hurting you. And for hiding secrets from you.”

Tony is wearing an unreadable expression on his face, but he doesn’t say anything so Steve continues.

“I could’ve- This could’ve been avoided if I just told you about the stuff I found on Bucky from the SHIELD-HYDRA files. But I just- couldn’t. I thought it would be better if I didn’t. And I was wrong.”

Tony sighs and drops his arms.

“I’d be a hypocrite if I pretended that I didn’t do the same thing with Ultron. I knew you guys wouldn’t approve so I kept it all hush-hush. I thought that I’d show you after it was done, then I’d be proven right and you’d have nothing to complain about.”

Steve rubs his hand over his face. What a pair they make. No wonder it had taken so little for Zemo to tear apart the Avengers.

“And I guess…” he continues. “I also want to thank you for forgiving Bucky.”

Tony waves a hand dismissively.

“Like I’ve said, I’ve had some time to think on it.”

He glances over at Steve.

“But what are you gonna do now?”

It’s a loaded question, and they both know it. Being constantly on the run hasn’t been easy- it’s something that Nat had gotten used to while he and Sam kept pushing themselves forward, but he can see the toll it’s taking on Wanda, even without the additional tiptoeing she had to go through to see Vision. The Accords have diminished the Avengers in more ways than one, and Steve has to admit that they only won this fight against Thanos through pure luck. Things would be so much easier if they just worked together again, without the shadow of the Accords looming over their heads. And now the tentative thread of reconnection that he’s formed with Tony might get ruined again by the very thing that tore them apart.

“I don’t know,” Steve finally admits. “But… probably back to what I was doing before.” He shrugs. “There’s not much else a wanted criminal can do.”

For the first time since the conversation started, Tony looks him dead in the eyes.

“But you don’t have to be one.”

Steve sees the faint glimmer of barely concealed hope in Tony’s eyes, and suddenly it clicks. Of course- Tony doesn’t hate him. Or at least, not anymore. Somewhere along the way, he must’ve forgiven Steve as well. It makes sense now, the way Iron Man and the Avengers’ hunt for Captain America and the other ex-Avengers on Ross’ orders always seemed half-hearted at best. Tony’s always had a bigger heart than he’d let on.

“Tony, I- I’m sorry, I really am, but…” Something sinks in Steve’s chest at the way Tony’s expression begins closing off. “There’s no way things can go back to the way they used to be. The Accords- they’re gonna look at this-” He gestures in the direction where the group from Titan- the Guardians of the Galaxy, as they had introduced themselves as- are playfully competing to see which one of them can clear the most alien corpses. “-and see dangerous individuals who need to be controlled and contained, even though they helped save the universe.”

Tony exhales loudly.

“Well I think that given all the shit that just went down in the past 24 hours, they’re gonna have to update the Accords anyway. This whole thing’s gonna be a paperwork nightmare, but…” he trails off, and waves vaguely with a hand.

“Yeah,” Steve says, understanding what Tony’s too tired to articulate. Then, something suddenly crosses his mind.

“Loki and Bruce also said that Asgard’s been destroyed- there are escape pods filled with Asgardian refugees who were evacuated from the main ship after Thanos attacked. Chances are, they’re gonna be heading to Earth now that it’s safe.”

Tony blinks at that, then sucks in a breath and runs a hand over his face.

“Hoo boy I am not looking forward to that. Our government bigshots already get their panties in a twist when it’s refugees from a different country, but from an alien god planet? It’s gonna be a complete shitshow.”

Steve grimaces, because he knows Tony’s right.

“Well, at least Thor will be the one representing them, since he’s now their king,” Steve offers. That, and Thor has a track record of being charismatic and well-liked by the general public. Not that either of those things had helped Steve much at all, but he can only hope that things will turn out better for his friend. After all, he can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to be forced to flee your own planet.

“Then will you be sticking around to help?”

Steve is aware of the way Tony is watching carefully for his reaction. He turns his gaze towards the devastated Wakandan fields, at everyone who is helping with the cleanup. He imagines standing with them, giving a statement to the general public on the intergalactic war that had taken place right under their noses. He looks at where Thor is laughing with the Guardians as he joins in with their games, and tries to imagine the myriad of ways in which the international governments would object to their very presence on Earth, would object to the Asgardian refugees on Earth. His mind is already spinning with counter-arguments for each and every one of them. He looks at the other Avengers scattered throughout the field, at the way they’ve seamlessly clicked back together as if they were never separated in the first place. He looks at where Princess Shuri is chattering excitedly with the young spider boy, and he looks at where the raccoon had broken off from the Guardians to speak to Bucky about something which makes his best friend frown.

Steve looks back at Tony. He’s not quite smiling, but it’s close.

“Maybe.”

He’ll see where things go from here.

[phagechildon]

Turdday - Chapter 1

Read on AO3

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Summary: When Leo doesn't show up to work (aka his surprise birthday party at Libra headquarters), Zapp goes to check on him only to find he's been caught up in yet another shitstorm. With creatures that only he can see pursuing him, the Libra members find it hard to protect him when Leo can't even remember who they are or how to use the All Seeing Eyes of the Gods.

----

The blistering summer heat made Leo groan as he tossed the blankets off, his whole body glistening with exhausting sweat. It was only the beginning of May and yet due to living in Hellsalem’s Lot, his entire apartment complex’s air conditioning broke due to falling debris from the skyscraper next door. That wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the heater that kept kicking on randomly even though the maintenance guy kept turning it off. No one could figure out how or why, which is why they opted to just replace the whole unit. Unfortunately for everyone living in the complex, any type of repairs in this city took time considering they were needed all over.  

“I can’t take this anymoreeeee,” he whined, his eyes glancing over to the window adjacent to his bed to see it was still open - probably his attempt to let some cool air in last night. Gods he was hot… it made him feel sick. “That did absolutely nothing?! It’s too freakin hot, I didn’t move to Arizona goddammit!” He flailed on the bed, throwing one of his mini temper tantrums. The more he flailed the worse he felt, his limbs dropping to the bed like heavy weights as nausea suddenly overwhelmed him.

Shit - he did not feel good. His whole body felt like it was just taken out of an oven and he was suffering from heat exhaustion. How was it possible for Hellsalem’s Lot to get this hot?! There had to be an explanation for this, which made him reach for his phone. His hand trembled, gravity against his appendage seeming to triple as it collapsed on the electronic device.

Weird… why wasn’t it plugged in? Normally he never forgot, even if he was utterly exhausted and sleep tried ripping his conscious into another reality. His phone was literally his lifeline, which is why he made it a habit not to forget.

Then again, was it really so strange for him to forget just once? Nah, he decided as he pulled it closer to himself, finding it far more difficult than it should’ve been as his arm essentially felt like dead weight. Pressing the home button he gasped, his eyes opening a bit to reveal the blue glow hidden behind his normally partially closed eyelids.

The screen and phone case was cracked. When the hell did this happen? He even invested in an expensive Otterbox to prevent this! It wasn’t like this last night… right?

His eyebrows creased as he found it hard to even remember last night. What did he do? He didn’t have work, that much he knew, so he got to relax. It wasn’t like he made it a habit to drink, but then why was his memory hazy? Maybe there was something on his phone that would remind him?

Unlocking it, he felt his breath catch in his throat. His text messages were open to Klaus, a hastily written message remaining unsent: sOs

His grip around his phone tightened, his mind reeling. So many troubling questions ran through his mind, all without answers. Why did he try texting Klaus SOS? Why was the O the only thing capitalized? Why was it left unsent? Why was his phone cracked? Why wasn’t it charged - it was at ten percent!

Why couldn't he remember what happened last night?

Gazing around his room, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. His XStation controller sat on the coffee table next to a nearly empty glass of Pepsi and a half eaten bags of chips. It was safe to assume he played the XStation all day, something he’d typically do on his day off. The only thing that seemed off was the pile of unopened snacks under the table, but that could easily be explained by him getting to a good part in the game and losing track of time.

… Of course he couldn’t remember even if he did, which agitated him even more. He’d have to replay all the progress he made yesterday if his memory didn’t return - just his luck. He wanted to throw another tantrum at that thought alone, but stayed strong.

That was the least of his worries. Something obviously happened last night, something he needed to worry about. He’d try asking around the apartment complex to see if anyone else was experiencing any problems with their memory; maybe it wasn’t just him.There was that mass fainting and amnesia incident where he met Neji a while back no one could explain, it would be just his luck for it to follow him home.

Taking a deep breath, he locked his phone and tried to sit up, only to feel ten times worse as bile rushed up his throat. He tried choking it back, but the room started to spin until his vision faded to darkness. It felt like he was rapidly falling into a deep abyss with a cloud of pure darkness encasing the entirety of his head only to be pulled back into his body moments later, the smell of acid making him open his eyes slightly and groan. Not only was he completely covered in throw up, but so were the sheets and part of his bed.

Great, just great. He knew there was nothing special about today; this day hasn’t been special in a long time.

Water. He needed water. Not only was the dizziness getting worse despite closing his eyes, but his throat also felt absolutely raw. If he remembered correctly, there was a glass on the nightstand where his phone used to be. Peeking over, he groaned. So close, yet so far away. He wasn’t even sure if he could sit up without letting loose again, which made him ask the agonizing question again: What the hell did he do last night?! He wasn’t a drinker, and he for sure didn’t do drugs, so what could explain his current predicament?

‘Why does this crap always happen to me?’ He grumbled as he slowly forced himself up, the dizziness trying to pull him back into the darkness again. It took everything he had to reach over and grab the cup without his world fading to black, let alone hold in the bile. But somehow he managed.

Downing half the cup of water, he set it back down on the table, feeling his stomach instantly reject it, making him shiver and tremble. Why was he so sick? Was it something he ate last night? The opened bags of chips and lack of dirty dishes made him think he forgot to eat normal food before bed, which wasn’t uncommon for him during his days off. And he was pretty sure the chips and soda wasn’t behind this, they’ve never made him feel this sick before.

The room started to spin more, making him squeeze his eyes tightly shut and unconsciously hold his throat, trying to will it back down.

‘What the hell’s wrong with me?’ He mumbled, fear starting to seep into his veins.

Hot… it was so hot. He needed to cool off-!

Water - he needed more water. Drinking it only made it worse last time, but maybe if he laid in it long enough the symptoms would subside.

Yeah he just needed to get to the shower. A bath would be more ideal, but he didn’t want to end up falling unconscious and drowning.

He didn’t remember how he got from point A to point B, but he had a lot of new formed bruises on his knees and even a cut that bleed slightly on right arm. Thank goodness his apartment was very small or he would’ve never made it.

A deep moan vibrated his throat as focused on the cool water that gently beat against his body. He didn’t even care that he was laying down on the shower ground, nor that his head pounded fiercely from hitting his head on the side of the tub on the way down. In fact he wasn’t even aware of that or the blood that gently left the wound and trickled down the drain. He merely rejoiced in the feeling of the heat leaving, not even hearing his phone going off on his bed.

----

“He’s still not answering,” Steven worriedly reported to Klaus who glanced out the windows of the common room office, not even trying to hide his concern. It was very unlike Leonardo not to answer them, and even more unlike him not to show up to work when he played the main role in today’s ‘mission.’

“The GPS states he’s still home, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“Maybe the brat just overslept or got hung over,” Zapp offered without looking up from the game he was playing on his phone.  

“I can’t imagine he’d sleep in two hours late,” Steven said, scrolling through his iPad. “If anything Sonic would’ve woken him up.”

“Do we have any agents in the area that can check on him?” Klaus asked, clenching his fists in an attempt to control his emotions. Ever since the incident with Michella a few months back, he couldn’t help but worry whenever Leo didn’t answer them. He didn’t want that incident to repeat itself.

Steven pulled up the other GPS signals and sighed. “Negative. The closest operative is conducting an undercover investigation of Mary’s Sweets Shop; can’t risk pulling him out without raising suspicion.”

Klaus nodded as he turned. “Then I’ll go-”

“Let me give the brat hell for playing hookie,” Zapp said as he stood, tossing his phone in his pocket and lighting a cigarette.

Steven let his shoulders relax as a small smile came to his face, relieved the white haired jackass decided to do something decent for once. “Thank you Zapp. I’d volunteer myself, but the kid already freaks out enough as it is. Having Klaus or I check in on him if he merely did sleep in, well, I don’t need to spell that out for you.”

He really didn’t, they all knew Leo would be too embarrassed to talk to them for a month straight, not to mention feel the need to make it up to them somehow.

“The kid’s a total spaz,” Zapp mumbled as he left, making Klaus and Steven glance at each other uneasily.

“Gilbert, please tell our guests there’s been a delay and we’ll give them an update as soon as we can.”

The combat butler bowed. “Of course, right away.”

----

“Either you open this fucking door or I’ll tear it down and beat your ass into an early grave for being late, and more importantly, for making me come down here to drag your ass to work!” Zapp hissed as he banged on Leo’s apartment door, not letting up. He couldn’t believe he was worried, the shithead was in the shower - he could hear the water running! The kid was going to pay for wasting his time. “You owe me lunch you mug shot of pubes!”

No response, not even a feeble plea for him to stop making so much noise so he didn’t get a noise complaint from the neighbors. The kid was so paranoid he always begged him to quiet down so the landlord wouldn't skip the warning and go straight to evicting him.  

Something wasn’t right.

“I’m coming in!” He yelled before slamming his body against the door, knocking it in. The first thing he noticed was the smell. He’d been hung over enough times to know the smell of puke and saw it all over the bed and floor, a trail of it leading to the bathroom.

“Well that’s disgusting,” he mumbled, his eyes moving to the bathroom to see the door open. Still no verbal complaints about his rambunctious self; there was no way Leo hadn’t heard him, especially not after he knocked the door in. “You in here ya’ brat?” He called, slowly making his way into the bathroom, only to have his eyes widen.

On the shower floor lay an unconscious Leo with blood still languidly leaving a nasty cut on his forehead, the water washing it down the drain and lightly staining the rest of his exposed skin a light pink.

“Shit-” Zapp immediately ran over and checked for a pulse.  

Still alive, but he needed to figure out how badly he was injured. Physically he only saw the nasty gash on his head, which was probably why he was out cold. But that wouldn’t explain the mess he made in the other room.

Reaching over he turned off the water, his other hand gently shaking Leo’s shoulder. “You alright kid?” There was dried blood on the side of the tub where the water didn’t touch, meaning this happened a little bit ago. How long had he been unconscious, and where was Sonic?

Leo felt himself slowly start to stir, unable to help a small groan that left his lips as he slowly started to register the sharp pain in his head. His throat and stomach felt like they were on fire, and his head was pounding . He couldn’t help the way he shriveled up, his breathing becoming sharp and slightly erratic.

How was it possible for him to feel so cold yet so hot at the same time? How’d he even end up in the shower? Why wasn’t anything making sense?!

A gentle hand rest against his shoulder, making him snap his eyes open.

“You alright kid?” A voice… who was that? Was he not alone? Slowly he let his eyes follow the arm up, finding himself staring into familiar gray eyes.

He knew this person… right?

“Z…Zapp… what are you doing here?” He asked gruffly, the name coming to him rather quickly. How the hell did he nearly forget Zapp? One did not simply forget such an asshole.

“You didn’t freakin’ show up to work so they sent me here to see where your sorry ass was,” Zapp responded as he looked around, grabbing a towel off the rack and dropping it on him. “What the hell happened to you? Drink one too many last night or what?”

Leo opened his eyes a little more, the soft blue glow showing as he tried recalling what he did last night, only to realize…. He didn’t remember anything from last night, and he didn't remember anything from this morning. It took everything he had not to start freaking out.

“I-I… I uhh… don’t know the answer to that, I can’t… remember anything from yesterday… or… this morning,” he mumbled, taking a deep breath. Very slowly he started to sit up, the towel rolling down his exposed body, but he was too out of it to care. “I… I…” he held the side of his head as it pounded even more, the world starting to spin along with his stomach.

Shit, he did not feel well.

“I… don’t think I’d drink, not while playing games… and, and-” he held his head a bit tighter as his other shaking hand went to his mouth, trying to hold back the bile that suddenly skyrocketed up to his mouth. His eyesight went in and out, his body swaying. Releasing the hold around his head he blindly reached out for the side for the tub, missing it twice before finally catching it.

Zapp’s eyes narrowed as he watched this, growing more concerned.

Something wasn’t right. Even the godly glow from Leo’s eyes seemed dimmer than usual.

“I’ll give you a minute so you don’t puke all over me,” the man said as he stood, turning away just as Leo let loose again.

He needed to take a closer look at the scene to completely assess the situation. Sure at first glance one would just say the kid was sick, but something didn’t feel right. To be more precise, something didn’t smell right, and it wasn’t the throw up. It was a sweet yet bitter scent that was foreign to the small apartment, though it was similar to something he himself had been exposed to before. This wasn't something the innocent Leo would be meddling with, at least not willingly.

Walking up to the coffee table, he examined the goods both on and under it. There was an open bag of chips and a half empty Pepsi bottle next to a XStation controller on the small coffee table. Okay, that was normal enough. Examining underneath it, his eyes narrowed in suspicion as he spotted two opened yet barely touched Pepsi bottles leaning against one of the table’s legs.

Weird, the kid normally didn’t waste anything, especially since he barely used his own money for himself. Reaching down he picked one up and smelled it.

Nothing out of the ordinary, okay. Test one fail, test two-

He brought the bottle to his lips and tilted it just enough to get a small dab on his tongue, his eyes widening instantly.

Bingo. The soda tasted slightly more bitter than usual, something normal people would just blame on the amount of syrup in the bottle and continue drinking without a second thought.

He spit it out and placed the bottle on the table. That would explain one of the scents, but not the sweet one.

Glancing at the chips he took one and smelled it, once again not finding anything out of the ordinary. Taking a bite, he found it tasted normal.

It wasn’t the chips, but then where was it coming from?

Glancing around the room some more, his eyes caught sight of Leo’s cracked phone and case, making his eyes crease even more. “The hell?” Side stepping past the vomit, he grabbed the phone and looked it over. His phone wasn’t like this the day before yesterday, and the OtterBox he picked out was top price - he was the one that went with him to pick it out. It would’ve taken a lot of force to not only do this kind of damage to the case, but to the phone inside it as well.  

Wait- the sweet scent was strong on the case. Bringing the phone closer he took a bigger whiff, only to pull away and cough.

Yep, that was no doubt coming from the phone, but that didn’t make any sense - none of this was making any sense. For it to smell this strong, someone would’ve had to dump a bunch of whatever the hell it was on the phone.

Unless… it wasn’t just on the phone. Come to think of it, the bed itself smelled sweet, even if it was faint and masked with stomach acid. His eyes drifted upwards, noticing his window was open. The ventilation probably diluted it.  

Zapp’s phone suddenly went off, making the man jump. Shit, he didn’t realize how on edge was. “Perfect timing,” he said as he answered, his eyes moving back to Leo’s phone. Maybe there was a clue as to what he was doing last night on it. “I was just getting ready to call you guys.”

“Is that so?” Steven asked sarcastically, not believing him. “Is Leo okay?”

“I wouldn't say okay, but he’s alive,” Zapp admitted as he tried a few passwords, hissing when he couldn’t remember the new one. “He’s currently throwing up all over himself and can’t remember anything from last night or this morning, not to mention he can’t even grab something less than two inches in front of him. Looking around his apartment, I’ve found some evidence that it’s been tampered with.”

Steven noted the serious tone as he glanced over at Klaus who shared a similar expression. Zapp was on speaker so the second in command didn’t have to repeat everything. “We’re heading over now, what else did you find?”

“You’re better off sending the forensics team, there’s some kind of drug in the soda he was drinking and possibly a drug that was released into the air or something. I can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from, but he doesn’t have a lot of motor skills. I doubt the blow he took to the head has anything to do with it though, it’s just a gash-” he stopped mid-sentence as the phone finally unlocked, the text screen to Klaus still open from last night making him realize the severity of the situation.

Someone attacked Leo.  

A loud squeal came from the bathroom, followed by a large thud. Zapp dashed back in to see the kid haphazardly grasping the closed toilet for dear life as his legs were a tangled mess underneath him, his shins scraped and now slightly bleeding.

“The hell’s wrong with you?! Why’d you try getting up on your own you dimwit?!” He seethed, watching the other’s labored breathing slightly fogging up the ceramic toilet. His eyes looked even cloudier than before as his cheeks were dusted red. If he had normal eyes they’d probably be dilated as hell.

“What’s going on Zapp??” Steven’s frantic voice came from the phone, making him click his tongue.

“The turd sprout tried getting up on his own, what an idiot,” he said, his voice was laced with worry despite how much he tried to mask it. “I take it back, I’ll meet you half way. He apparently tried texting Klaus for help but wasn’t able to send it, so there’s got to be more we’re missing here.”

Leo weakly looked over to the talking man, everything spinning worse than before as the world went from blue and purple hues to dull grays blacks and whites. One moment the man was gone, then the next he was in his personal space putting clothes on him. He was talking to someone on the phone, though all his words were muffled beyond recognition as an obnoxious ringing drowned everything else out.

A hand pressed against his forehead, pushing his swaying body against the tub for support. Whoever this was seemed to at least care about his health. The cool touch to his boiling forehead made him sigh in relief, his eyes closing to savor the feeling. Unfortunately it didn’t last long, making him moan in protest. Opening his eyes he found the man gone again. Where’d he go? Why’d he leave?

Opening his eyes more, the world became blue and purple again, a golden aura coming towards him. The man kneeled in front of him and pressed a frozen dinner against his forehead, making him shudder.

Oh, that felt good.

“How are you not brain dead?!” He heard him gasp, making Leo open his eyes a little more. Strange, the ringing was slowly subsiding, his senses returning. He opened his mouth to respond when he saw something  - a black mass at the corner of his eye, making him turn slightly. The aura was somewhat far despite being close, meaning he must be seeing through the wall. It looked like this thing was crawling in from an open window, prompting him to whimper.

“-but I need my hands in case we’re attacked!”

Attacked? Did he not hear or see the black mass that was now lingering in the doorway of the bathroom blocking off their only exit?!

It crept closer and closer, making him realize that no, this man had no clue there was a creature behind him. But what could he do about it aside from hyperventilate?

“Leo-” a familiar voice pierced through the haze, making him take a deep breath. That voice - it belonged to someone dear to him. “You need to remain calm. We’re almost there.”

That voice- “Mr… Klaus…?” He somehow managed out, a few pieces of his life slowly coming back.

Libra, right. He came to Hellsalem’s Lot to locate Libra and find a way to restore his sister’s eyesight. Now he was part of that organization, helping the real heroes maintain at least some balance in the world by fighting off the dickheads who set their sights on world domination.

Speaking of dickheads, the gooey black creature behind Zapp stopped and rose a hand, the appendage forming into a sharp blade.

Words failed him, he couldn’t even muster up a whimper. His eyes sparked as he did the only thing he could think of; he hijacked Zapp’s eyes, letting him see his view.

It happened too fast for him to process in his current state, but within a blink of an eye the man was standing while the other creature was splattered all over the walls.

“What the hell was that thing?!” The man yelped as Leo was quickly picked up, much to his displeasure. He had to close his eyes to prevent himself from blacking out, but not before he caught a glimmer of more of those things clambering through the window.

“Shit - if you wanna live kid you gotta give me your eyes again!”  

Eyes? Why did the man want his eyes-

Oh, right.

He opened them to see a deformed globby hand reaching out for him, only a few inches away from his face-

Until it burst into black goo - a blood red sword shimmering in the light.

“That was too close,” the man scowled as he took off running out the door, holding tightly onto his small body. “I know it’s hard but you gotta keep lending me your eyes or we’re done for, got it?”

Leo couldn’t even say anything as they made a sharp turn, barely dodging one of those goo creatures as it slammed into a wall, bursting upon impact.

“Hold this-” the man demanded, barely giving the kid enough time to wrap his weak fingers around the cellular device.

“What the hell’s going on over there Zapp?!” A voice came from the phone, seeming annoyed and slightly panicked.  

“Something Otherworldly’s chasing us, I can only see it ‘cause Leo hijacked my vision,” Zapp quickly interrupted his boss, not knowing how much time they had before Leo fell unconscious. With the way the borrowed sight kept cutting in and out, they wouldn’t even make it down the street, let alone out the building. “You wanna die you scruffy nutsack?! Concentrate on lending me your fucking sight!”

Die? So these things were trying to kill them?

“How many are there?” Steven asked, shushing someone in the background.

Chancing a glance back, Zapp hissed. The one that collided with the wall was already slowly reforming. “I’m counting at least five, maybe six. They can apparently regenerate themselves.”

“Do you see any auras - colors surrounding them?”

Zapp opened his mouth-

An explosion rocked the building as a black sludgy hand slammed into the wall right in front of them. The sword quickly burst apart into strings that wrapped around- around thin air??

Zapp’s eyes widened in horror, but didn’t lose concentration as he slipped his lighter out with his free hand. “Seventh Hell!” The strings of blood burst into flames, a screeching wail shattering the windows in the building. Zapp wasted no time feeling the heat through his clothes as he jumped past the flames and out the hole the creature created in the building. “Come on wake up kid, we really need you right now!”

He punctured his palm with the device, using his blood to swing from building to building like Spiderman, much to his distaste. This whole situation sucked ass, and it was about to get even worse considering none of them could see the fuckers with Leo unconscious.

“Leo can you hear me?” Zapp asked almost frantically, hearing a large crash behind them. Glancing back he paled. Those creatures had enough strength to knock a stoplight over and into traffic, which meant they had the strength to bend and break metal. Then again one of them did make a gaping whole through a building, so he really shouldn’t be surprised. He was more worried about one of them getting close enough and hittingthem with that strength.

“Come on kid you have to wake up! What happened to that self-righteous spirit of yours? I’m gonna get killed because of your shitty luck - you can’t give up!” He shook the other violently as he continued to swing, ultimately knowing it wasn't Leo’s fault, not with that blistering fever. He was honestly shocked the kid wasn’t dead yet.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up on end.

There was no time to react. He didn’t even get to turn his head to watch thin air grab him, squeezing tightly.

Leo - he was holding him under his other arm, the angle and pressure from the grip probably literally suffocating him. He had to do something, and fast.

Risk levels flew out the window as he gripped the device that was still in his palm. “Blade Form One: Homuramaru!”

A loud screech shattered the windows of the nearby buildings as the grip disappeared, the two of them free falling. Zapp glanced up as he tried regaining his breath, seeing the black goo that had been holding them now visible as it fell with them. How could he fight something he could only see after it’s taken a hit?  

“Focus dickhead,” Chain’s voice snapped him into reality as she grabbed the back of Zapp’s shirt and yanked them with her, slowly gliding away and down towards a blood net Zed stood by.

“For your information I was . It’s not my fault these sons of bitches can’t be seen by normal eyes!” Zapp wailed, making Chain click her tongue.

“Just die-” A spray of red broke through their banter, along with a half seethe, half yelp from Zapp as the arm he held Leo in ignited with fierce pain. He barely felt the small body being yanked from his profusely bleeding arm as it felt like something was tearing the flesh right off the bone, making him let out a shrill scream.

Chain immediately looked over and felt her heart pumping in her ears. Leo was being pulled away from them by thin air as red sprayed like a geyser from Zapp’s arm. Both needed her help, but she could only help one.

“Blade Form Five, Piercing Dragon Spear!” Zed’s voice growled from below, a blood formed trident sailing past the werewolf and half conscious blood user, barely missing Leo and piercing something in midair. A small pterodactyl like screech made the buildings shake as black ooze dripped from the wound like blood. “Blade Form Two, Sky Slicing Strands!” The fish hybrid commanded the blood to transform into string, encasing the invisible enemy and squeezing tightly, forcing it to stop it’s retreat.

Chain let out a sigh of relief as she dove even faster, letting herself and Zapp land in the blood net. Normally she let whoever she saved fall themselves, but the idiot was really hurt, meaning she’d probably have to administer first aid.  

“Zapp’s injured,” she relayed the information as her eyes saw movement and looked up, seeing Steven approaching the invisible creature from a distance.

“Lanza del Cero Absoluto!” Large spears of ice launched into the air, the first one sailing past Leo. The second one hit, then the last. A loud pop made civilians scream and take cover as black goo rained upon the city, Leo becoming airborne. “Zed!” Steven cried, but there was no need. The fish hybrid was already running at top speeds.

“Wind Knitting!” A vortex of wind left him and spiraled all the way up, catching Leo and slowing his fall.

“Chain, take care of Zapp,” Klaus said as he walked up behind Steven, his blood device glowing. “Zed, take Leo back to the office, tell Anila to activate the defense systems once you’re in-” No one could follow as their leader moved, his blood spraying in the air and sailing up towards Leo, quickly forming into a lance. “Stechende Blitzattacke!” Another wall of goop showered onto the city below as the attack pierced the enemy that nearly had Leo pulled out of the vortex. Zed cursed under his breath as he released the winds, catching the unconscious brunette, being sure to support his neck so it didn’t snap.

Leo was flushed and sweating, his panting hoarse and raspy. He wasn’t doing too well.

“These things are after him and he’s the only one that can see them.” Klaus’s eyes narrowed, determination literally flaring off him. “We won’t let him fight an enemy only he can see alone - not again. We’ll do our best to cover you.”

“Understood,” Zed said into his ear piece as he took off running, keeping the shaking child close to his chest. “He’s not doing too well, he needs a doctor.”

“I’ll see if I can contact Dr Estevez. She should still be in the area,” Gilbert’s voice came from the ear piece. “Just focus on getting him to the office-”

His feet weren’t touching the ground, Gilbert’s voice cutting to a loud insistent ringing. The grip he had on Leonardo faltered for a moment, but it didn’t matter, not when they were literally flying through the air like they were the baseball to a batter who hit a home-run.

“Zed!” Steven yelled, cursing as the Libra members helplessly watched their coworkers tossed to the other side of the city to who knows where. Was the fish hybrid even still conscious? Did he still have Leo? This reminded them of when Leo was saving that government official and Deldro and Hummer accidentally hit him back to the start when they were so close to the finish line.

“He didn’t drop Leonardo,” Klaus reassured, though his anger even made the citizens turn away from him. “Gilbert, is Zed’s GPS still online?”

“Negative, it dropped off above Ghetto Heights.”

“Then that’s where we’ll start our search,” Klaus said. “Zed’s pretty capable, but we still need to find them and fast.”

----

The wind was whipping against his skin like sharp needles as his eyesight went in and out, making him curse. His back felt like it was on fire, not to mention his side. The pain there was so sharp he almost forgot to breath despite it being familiar.

One of his ribs undoubtedly broken, and it was digging into his skin. Whatever tried to grab them seemed to accidentally punch them, an attack that reminded him of Dog Hummer and Deldro’s Plain Punch Revised attack. At least it put some distance between them; hopefully Leo would wake up in time to lend him his sight before those creatures caught up to them.

Their speed started to slow as they started dropping out of the sky.

The ground was getting closer-

Shit- he let his blood flow. “Crimson Orb Weaver!” The blood zoomed past them and attached itself to two buildings, forming a net. Zed let out a breathless cry as they fell against it, his broken rib shifting and another breaking. The ropes snapped as they morphed back into normal blood while his world cut to black.