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queen-of-writing-bad-things · 2 months ago

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Henry Danger The Movie Reader Insert | Chapter 9. What Is A Schwoz?

pairing: Ray Manchester/f!reader + Platonic!Henry Hart/f!reader

summary: Henry scrambles to work out a way to get him and (y/n) home. He has an idea, but Jasper, Piper, and even Missy have no idea what he's talking about. Tell them: what is a Schwoz?

rating: F - no warnings really. odd sprinkling of adult language and alcohol consumption. that's it.

word count: 3.8k

a/n: SCHWOZIEEEEEEE. i love him.

Thank you for reading! I (respectfully) yearn for likes, comments, and reblogs. Click for vibes

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As Jasper soared overhead, dipping, spinning, and zooming with his cape flapping in the multicoloured lights, Henry had no choice but to go wherever Piper and Frankini took him.

Missy and (y/n) followed closely behind, trying not to giggle at how the hero dragged his heels, hoping friction would work in his favour, but they were freakishly strong. With the drama queen on one arm and his sister on another, Henry chuckled awkwardly, not liking how they dragged him into a quieter but no less nauseating part of the club.

"Tables!" Frankini yelled, gesturing with his usual flare and grandeur. Like something out of the kid's worst nightmare, Shimmers employees appeared out of thin air, carrying whatever their boss commanded, and of course, Captain 'Stache had free reign of the skies.

"Look out!" Jasper said as he dodged anyone on the dancefloor, narrowly missing a man in a very glittery shirt.

It was beyond weird to see him like that – unafraid and unashamed to have all eyes on him. (y/n) barely recognised him, and not just because he was practically a passing blur in a seventies cowboy cosplay.

He was Jasper, sure, but he wasn't her Curly – was too brash and corny for that, so she and the kids had to remember. This wasn't reality. This wasn't home. Someone really needed to remind Henry of that.

"You know what? I'm, uh, I got a thing!" He said nervously, eyeing the door over his shoulder, not that Frankini heard.

"Tacos!" He shouted, and the waiters brought just what Piper had ordered—a tiered arrangement of crispy corn shells filled with the most delicious ingredients, hand-delivered by two girls on rollerblades.

Everyone gasped, mouths watering as the tacos rolled closer, with the girls realising it had been a hot minute since they last ate. Henry was equally ravenous, secretly wanting to lick his lips and groan at the sight became damn, they look goooood. Maybe some bits of the fanfic world weren't too bad, but he had to remain focused and escape this shimmery loony bin.

"Those look good, but I just—"

"And..." If only Frankini would let him get a word in. "A slow jam!"

The DJ flipped the record, and the upbeat disco number switched to a soft, slow-dancing number – the type that had all the couples rushing to the floor. Frankini loved it, throwing his hands in the air like he didn't care, leaving the young ones and their pink-wearing friend to their private booth, although the long, blond beanpole needed to lighten up.

"Little guy always feels better after he eats..." cooed Piper, tickling her brother under his chin, annoying him in a way that only a little sister could.

She knew him better than most and wasn't wrong, drawing a smile from (y/n/n) when they both recognised the signs that he was hangry. Prodding his cheeks and nose, squeezing his weedy yet muscular arm, the girl giggled, finding his foul mood amusing.

"Why are you talking to me like I'm a baby?" The boy asked indignantly, shirking her off with a sour frown. "I'm not a baby, okay? I'm a grown-up!"

"You like it when (y/n) calls you her baby," said Piper as she pouted at how he ruined her fun. She gave her brother that dry, all-knowing stare – the one that called bullshit – but Henry just scoffed, avoiding all eye contact, especially from the woman standing just out of his peripheral vision with her hands on her hips and a very unimpressed look.

"That's different..."

"Look, Hen, if you don't want me to call you my baby anymore, all you gotta do is say it," (y/n) told him, although the thought made her heart crack a little.

The kid turned to her in alarm, eyes wide and fearful at her impassive face. It wasn't cool or mature; it was embarrassing to know she'd always bake him cookies and wash his dirty laundry – let him crash at her house and cry into her shoulder if he needed it. He'd never go to his real mom for that. Doubted she'd even care now she had the house all to herself.

But (y/n/n)? To be no one to her? To be on the outside looking into her nest as the others preened under her Hell no. He was her baby. The first. The best. Even if he didn't want to say it.

"No!" He replied a little too quickly for it to be considered casual before he composed himself. "No, (y/n/n), don't do that. It's just..."

"It's just...?" The heroine raised an eyebrow, not liking his vibe. She couldn't quite describe it, but how he flipped on Piper and flopped to pander to her didn't sit right. Her tummy tingled – and not in a good way.

"I've got grown-up problems, and eating this taco isn't going to make me feel better!" It sounded like a diversion, eyeing the taco tower instead of meeting her questioning gaze.

"Oh, yeah?" (y/n) folded her arms as his childishness reminded her of when her actual baby started whining – not a good look for a grown-up, as he liked to call himself. She took a taco from the platter and placed it in his hand, unbothered when a few lettuce strings tumbled onto the floor.

"Well, how about you have one, take a chill pill at the same time, and then see how you feel?"

Henry blinked, still grouchy yet stunned upon hearing her sharp tone. He stared at the snack in his palm, hating to be a hypocrite and eat it, but the heroine was scary when she was stern. And he didn't want to know what she'd do if he disobeyed. "...I could do that."

"Good. And take that chip off your shoulder," she answered with a slight nod, satisfied when he nibbled at the crispy shell. "No one likes a whiner, Henry."

As Frankini placed a drink in her hand – and God, she needed it, Piper and Missy slid in beside the older woman, hiding their smirks since they didn't get the scolding. Henry was left to demolish the tacos, leaving nothing but crumbs and the icky, vegetabley bits as he ate silently.

The others chatted and laughed, entertained by the slow jam and the club owner's antics until the hero finally felt better. After fifteen minutes, with a full tummy and a chance to calm down, he looked up at them, sighing contently and wiping the sour cream from the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

Apparently, the girls knew him too well. "Oh, my God... I feel so much better."

"Make room for Captain 'Stache." However, a guy could change his mind.

Henry watched as Jasper, tired of his zoomies, floated down to their table. He, his stupid cape, and his even stupider moustache perched on the plush sofa, taking the space beside (y/n/n), so she had a boy on either side. The hero quickly relaxed into the soft, shiny leather and smirked at his friends at the table, spreading his arms across the back whilst his sidekick had never felt more uncomfortable.

God, he hated being the little guy again.

"Oh, my God... I feel so much worse."

"Be nice!" (y/n) told him sharply, throwing an elbow into the boy's ribs before his words could reach Captain 'Stache. Even if this weren't exactly her Curly, she'd hate to see him sad, but his mood soured more when Henry clocked the sweet smiles they exchanged.

He glanced at Missy, eyes cold and humourless despite how snarky his voice sounded. "Out of all your universes, that thing had to send us here?"

"What—what does he mean your universes?" Piper asked, frowning at the young girl before she could answer.

The air turned awkward quickly, leaving the trio staring at the R.A.D and wondering how to explain themselves. How could they tell them they weren't real?

"What's that doohickey on the table?" Jasper asked, as confused as Piper was when he saw the device behind Missy. He had no idea that his mullet-moustache combo was all a lie – a drawing on a scrap of paper or a line in a book – and she turned to her friends on the couch for help.

"You wanna tell him?" Henry smirked, leaving the floor open for the girl to confess what she'd done.

"Okay." It seemed Missy had no choice.

She quickly got up from her seat and stood beside the R.A.D, presenting it to Piper and Jasper as they watched curiously. "So... I kinda wrote these stories where Henry, (y/n), and I fight crime together..."

That was putting it mildly – the tip of the iceberg as they sat back and listened to the whole mess. So much had happened in so little time, and she recounted it all, leaving Henry pacing around, biting his lip to deal with the tension because it was insane to listen to – literally like something out of a movie.

The R.A.D, the portals, waking up in Newtown, meeting each other, encountering (y/n), fighting Coach Cregg and VamPiper, nearly getting pulverised, ending up in Shimmers... It felt like forever had passed since the kid was minding his own business in Dystopia.

"...And now, we're stuck in my fanfiction," she said, finishing the story to bewildered faces.

"I really wanna get back to Dystopia, and (y/n) needs to get home to Ray and the baby," added Henry, and the heroine nodded solemnly, heart aching and longing for home again.

Yet, as strange as it sounded, Piper and Captain 'Stache took it remarkably well, looking only mildly disturbed as they stared at the R.A.D – the thing that apparently caused all the trouble.

"So...we're just figments of—of this girl's imagination?" Asked Piper as she tried not to hyperventilate. She looked at her brother – or who she thought was her brother – with a sheen of terror in her eyes as if she was on the verge of tears, questioning everything she once took as true. "Am I the only one having an existential crisis right now?"

"No, you exist... Just not like this," replied (y/n), moving to the table and comforting the girl as best she could with a kind smile and gentle hand on her shoulder. Although, she wasn't sure if it helped at all. "The real world is...different."

"So, you're saying there's another reality where I don't have a moustache?" Jasper frowned, standing beside them with a hairy face of utter dread, not liking the sound of their world.

Henry couldn't stop the little laugh that escaped him, seeing the real Jasper under all that bravado. Of course, that was the bit that concerned him, not that his persona didn't exist at all.

"Anyway," he said, ignoring the strange question and looking at Missy instead, "while you were talking, I got an idea. We're in Swellview, right?"

"I mean...kind of."

"Indeed." Piper and Jasper nodded as they eyed him curiously.

"So, there's gotta be a Schwoz here," he said, and suddenly, (y/n) looked at him like he was the smartest kid in the world. Her eyes lit up in realisation, knowing what he was driving at as she pictured that fuzzy, little weirdo, the one she last saw leaving Swellview to live with his princess girlfriend.

"Yes! Schwoz can fix anything! So, all we gotta do is find Schwoz; he can fix the R.A.D, we can all get back to our realities, and Missy can write whatever stories she wants," the heroine answered excitedly as the girl glanced away disappointedly.

As much as she'd screwed up, Missy liked hanging out with her new friends—she could literally call Kid Danger and Miss Danger her besties at this point, but they wanted out. That was fine. That was great. She'd help them get home, no matter how crushing it felt...only they used a funny word.

"What is a Schwoz?" Piper asked. The word fell from her lips, leaving her mouth feeling full of cotton wool.

"He's a science genius who lives in the Man Cave," Henry replied like it was obvious, but he just received blank stares.

Jasper was especially bemused, quirking an eyebrow and flicking a luscious lock over his shoulder. "You mean, the 'Stache House?"

" now?" (y/n)'s eyebrows flew to her hairline as her jaw dropped. She could deal with the mullet. She could deal with the lip sweater. But Jasper? Living in her old house? That was weird, and her tummy twisted nervously. In that case...where did her doofus live?

"Whatever! Focus, (y/n/n)!" Henry just moved on. He didn't even want to know. "Point is, he can fix anything, okay? So...where is he?"

He looked at his friends, waiting for someone to say something. The Man Cave couldn't survive without Schwoz and his techno-wizardry, but Jasper and Piper glanced at each other over Missy's head, shrugging and looking utterly confused.

"I—I've never heard of a Schwoz," said the older girl as if the genius was some kind of exotic animal. Jasper shook his head, too, and Henry heaved a heavy sigh, losing his bright idea as quickly as he created it.

"Yeah, I never found out about anyone named Schwoz. Cute name and all, but I never put him into any of my stories," Missy told him, watching as her idol swiped a hand over his face and pinched his tired eyes. They couldn't catch a break.

"Okay, now I'm having an existential crisis."

"Frankini-tini?" Piper offered, pushing the glass towards her brother, who didn't care what was in it. He just needed that bright blue concoction and whatever liquor it contained. His lips wrapped around the squiggly straw, taking a long, large gulp until the drink burned his throat and warmed his belly when Missy looked up.

She stroked her chin thoughtfully, pondering with a wrinkled nose as the boy frowned darkly. "Okay, hang on, though. I didn't write about every single person at this party, but there's tons of people here, right?"

They couldn't argue with that, watching as the girl wandered away from the private lounge to the doorway. She looked across the dancefloor, seeing some people she recognised, but most of them were strangers—randomers. Very well-dressed randomers, but it made her think.

"Yeah."

"Well, I'll bet the R.A.D changes whatever I changed in my stories and then fills in the rest of the blanks with reality."

"Wait, so that means there's gotta be a Schwoz somewhere in this universe," (y/n) said, and a glimmer of hope awakened in her heart. There were a lot of possibilities, and she didn't dare believe it—didn't even want to find out, but if that were true...her husband was out there, too. Somewhere.

"Might be..."

That was all Henry needed to hear. Knowing what he had to do, he turned around, leaving his friends looking puzzled, and bellowed across the bustling club with the hope that a certain fuzzy weirdo was nearby.

"SCHWOZ!" He yelled, earning a few strange glances. It worked in their world, so he didn't see why this altered reality would be different, even though it could've been a little louder.

The hero stared at Jasper and the girls, silently begging for help since his mouth shockingly wasn't loud enough. As confused as they were, most not knowing who or what to expect, they joined in. "SCHWOZ!"

And Henry's hunch paid off. "...Yo!"

"Did you hear that?" (y/n) asked excitedly – a quiet reply, muffled by the whooping and boogieing in the club, but it was there.

"Yeah! It came from over there," answered Henry, who grabbed her wrist and pulled his giddy friend back into the fray.

They weaved through the crowd, bumping into disco cowgirls and shirtless waiters, but with so many partygoers, it was impossible to see their favourite genius. It didn't help that he was on the short side. "Schwoz!"

"Yo!"

"There it is again!" The heroine gasped, recognising the small man's voice anywhere, even if it sounded a little...off. They looked every which way, working out which direction the sound came from, when she pointed to a back room with a big private sign splashed across the door. "Through there!"

The pair marched over, ignoring whoever told them it was staff only, and they swiftly found themselves in a starkly different place. Frankini didn't bother to glitzify the kitchens – why would he? It was dark, sterile, and so grey that the boss was hardly ever caught in there. The waiters and workers dashed about, serving hot, freshly microwaved nibbles and overpriced burgers to the masses, but Henry didn't care.

He and (y/n) snuck past the head chef, smiling when they saw their old friend in the corner – as bald and bizarre as he always was. Even if he looked a little different, dressed in a filthy apron and rubber gloves, with a paisley bandana tied tightly around his noggin, it was still their Schwoz, working hard with suds up to his elbows.

"Schwoz!" The kid couldn't help himself, running up to the head dishwasher and nearly sending him and the plate in his hand flying.

Schwoz lurched and growled, looking rougher than usual as he saved himself from trouble and caught the soapy dish before it smashed. He glared up at whoever assaulted him, seeing no one important – just some scrawny kid and a walking blob of cotton candy.

"Woah, woah, woah, woah! Get off of me!" He hissed, his voice coming out all harsh and hard like he'd grown up on the streets of Manhattan and not Swellview. "How do you know my name?"

(y/n) smiled, having expected a little confusion, but God, it was good to see her old friend again. Even if they weren't friends at all. "'Cause in another universe, you're one of our best friends! Sweet cheese, I can't believe we found you!"

"All right—look, lady! Get off of me!" Schwoz said rudely, shoving (y/n) away when she only wanted to give him one of her snuggly hugs. The real Schwoz would never do that. "I don't know who you or your beanpole friend here are, but in this universe, I'm a plate-scraper, so...get outta here!"

"Listen, we need your help," said Henry, nervously glancing around for eavesdroppers or anything else that might go wrong.

His skin itched to get back home, hanging around the genius like a bad smell as he tried to get on with his work. It was nearly impossible with a kid breathing down his neck, leaving Schwoz checking both ways to ensure his boss didn't catch him idling on the job.

"If I keep talking to you two, I'm gonna get fired, and my probation officer's gonna throw me back in jail!"

"You went to jail?" (y/n) asked as she and Henry exchanged a baffled glance. They never saw the lil' fella as a jailbird type, too soft and friendly to survive the hostile environment, but this Schwoz could handle it.

In a world with Captain Man, a lot could go wrong. "Yeah. I stole a little plutonium. That stupid moustache guy and his sidekick caught me."

Awkward. Henry stared off to the side, clearing his throat and crossing his arms as if he wasn't with the moustache guy. Although his moustache was stupid. "Uh...oh, yeah. Those—those guys are turds."

"Definitely, what a pair of losers, right?" (y/n) chuckled dryly before edging closer to the little man, leaning down so only the three could hear her. "Look, what's a plate-scraper like you stealing plutonium for? You're better than that."

Schwoz snapped his beady eyes at her, glaring with such malice that the heroes flinched away when he brought his gritted sneer closer. "'Cause, sweet-cheeks, plate-scraper ain't all I can do in this world, a'ight?"

"Okay..." They gulped, backing up as the feisty genius backed them into a corner, stalking them like a lion did with its prey.

Schwoz didn't even realise he was doing it, practically snarling at them and their judgement, never knowing why he did what he did. Sometimes, he had no choice, winding up as hard as nails and morally ambiguous.

"Maybe I'm not so stupid like my teachers thought, okay? Maybe I can build a more fuel-efficient nuclear reactor in my cousin's basement than your fancy Ivy League scientists!"

Terrifying as his rant was, the woman didn't back down, taking a deep breath as she clung to the arm Henry slung in front of her. Neither of them thought the weirdo would attack them, but the kid pushed her behind him just to be safe.

(y/n) peeked over his shoulder, standing on her tippy toes as Schwoz panted raggedly, his face reddened by rage but also...sadness. This was the Schwoz who never found his place as a superhero's handyman – the one who never found his family.

"Even in one of Missy's fanfics, you're still one of the smartest people ever, Schwoz," she told him, and her smile melted his icy exterior, if only for a moment. "You taught me pretty much everything I know."

"...Your Schwozdang right, I am!" He replied, pointing sternly at them, although he didn't understand why anyone would be so nice to him. He didn't know the weird girl and her skinny, well-dressed friend – barely understood the mumbo-jumbo they talked about – but they seemed strangely familiar – like déjà vu.

A shout came from the club's main room, and the plate-scraper cursed himself for forgetting that Frankini had eyes and ears everywhere. "Uh, language!"

"Sorry, Frankini!" Wincing at the light scolding, the small man returned to his dishwashing station with Henry on his heels. Did the guy ever give up?

"Listen, um...we, uh..." stammered Henry, teetering on the edge of catching their coconut or spooking him forever. They just needed to intrigue him, and he only knew one way.

"We need you to take a look at a device.

The water gurgled down the drain, slowly disappearing with chunks of uneaten spaghetti and sauce as the genius froze, suddenly all ears. He didn't look at them—didn't want the strangers to know he was interested, but (y/n) knew the boy had hit the target. She saw how his little shoulders trembled with unbridled excitement, how her old friend's fingers squeezed as if they ached to hold something sciencey again.

"What kind of device?" They had him – hook, line and sinker.

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queen-of-writing-bad-things · 23 days ago

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Henry Danger The Movie Reader Insert | Chapter 12. Heart To Hart

pairing: Ray Manchester/f!reader + Platonic!Henry Hart/f!reader

summary: (y/n) sits down to talk with Henry, determined to find out what's going on with him. She's surprised and disappointed with what she hears.

rating: F + A - fluffy and angsty, adult language, jealousy, references to abusive/neglectful parents, henry gets a whack on the head for being dense, slight canon divergency

word count: 4.3k

a/n: i wrote this really quickly. henry needed someone to talk some sense into him, and (y/n) is the one for the job. also the jasper backstory is very self-indulgent cos i love that kid, but i think it's fairly canon to say his mom is shitty. they imply it on the show.

Thank you for reading! I (respectfully) yearn for likes, comments, and reblogs. Click for vibes

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There wasn't really anywhere to hide in Shimmers. People filled every corner; some danced, some drank, some puked, and others... Well, it was a good thing the shadows hid whatever they got up to.

(y/n) didn't know the place very well, but she knew the boy she searched for. Henry wasn't the type to run away completely, not one to abandon his friends and lose himself over a temper tantrum. Logic said he wouldn't have left the building, which narrowed things down.

The only problem was that the nightclub was big. Two floors at least. Besides the multiple dance floors, there were side rooms, VIP rooms, toilets, the backstage area, bars, a cloakroom, employee locker rooms, and more. Too many places for her to search quickly, but plenty for a young man to squirrel himself away.

Still, (y/n) knew how the kid thought. She knew what he liked and didn't like. And she liked to think she was a little more levelheaded than he was.

So, logic said he wouldn't go anywhere too icky, which ruled out the toilets. Nor would he go anywhere too busy, and that excluded the packed bars and the main floors since they were heaving with partygoers. As much as he liked to think of himself as a celebrity, Henry wasn't a VIP, either, so he wouldn't be there. And he couldn't get into the locker rooms without raising a few questions.

It left the standing thoughtfully in a busy walkway, thrumming her fingers against her mouth as she scanned her surroundings. Everything came up as a negative until she chanced upon a possibility. One that called to her from the beginning since it was quiet, , and not overstuffed with morons popping shots and doing God knows what else.

Into the kitchen, she went.

It's where she thought Henry had headed, and it made sense. She pushed open the door and slipped in, luckily not spotted by a waiter or grumpy chef, who might wonder what a dolled-up lady was doing in their domain. They'd all scarpered after the fight, ditching their stations and leaving the kitchen barren. Not a soul to be found.

Well, except maybe one.

"Hey..." Her voice was soft not to spook the boy she'd found, offering a small smile even though he didn't look at her.

Henry slumped against a workstation, cowering with his back against cold steel after removing the ridiculous wig that made his head itch. The navy tunic was gone, too, tossed to some unknown corner because he was sick of the sight of it, which left him in the frilly, white shirt. "Hey, (y/n/n)."

His voice sounded croaky, matching his swollen eyes and damp cheeks since he could let it all out with no one around. He'd heard her push open the door but made no move to run; Coach Cregg really did a number on him, stealing his strength and energy. At least she walked in, not Schwoz or Piper or a complete stranger.

He loved those two, but (y/n/n)... He could break in front of her, and she wouldn't laugh or sneer. She'd be tender, and Henry needed some of that right now.

(y/n) moved closer, circling the cookers and prep areas until she saw how low he hung his head, avoiding her concerned gaze in favour of staring at his lacy sleeves. She saw the wet, silvery streaks on his cheeks and frowned—felt her heart ache when he sniffed a little to try and be brave. It didn't work.

"Are you crying?" Dumb question, but she asked it before she could stop herself.

His tears were painfully obvious, evidence that the poor boy was hurting badly, but out of instinct, he brushed them away, acting like he was fine with all his snot and red eyes. "No..."

"Don't bullshit me, Henry," (y/n) told him with a sigh, and she sat down beside him, scooching over so they could both lean against the counter. "And don't you dare say it's liquid pride."

"Well...maybe a bit." A wobbly smile twitched on his lips, glancing at his sister sadly when she reached for his clammy hand – the one that kept bouncing against his knee. "Just all got a bit much, y'know?"

The heroine nodded, exhaling from her nose with a bitter laugh. As someone sitting on the floor of a nightclub kitchen, galaxies away from home, she knew the feeling. "Yeah, I know. We've seen some weird shit, but not like this. Never had reality change around me."

"Me neither," answered Henry, and he squeezed her hand. He saw the apprehension on her face; neither knew if they'd get home or if it was even possible. "How you up?"

"Surprisingly well. I miss my doofus, but I'll get back to him." But (y/n) was anything if not an optimist. Her smile grew, eyes crinkling as she pictured who waited for her back at that little house – strong arms and the little pitter-patter of tiny feet – and it helped. Wild horses couldn't drag her in the opposite direction. "I always do."

The boy could only wish he had that certainty, but he never considered himself like his old boss. Ray and (y/n) built a life together, and it almost made him jealous to know she had warmth and happiness to return to. His home had none of that—wasn't even sure if he had a home to go back to, and his anxiety grew.

"...Yeah."

"But I didn't follow you in here to talk about me." She pulled him from his melancholy, and Henry looked away, shoulders tensing as she turned to a conversation he'd been trying to outrun.

"No?" He tried to play it dumb.

"No. So, do you want to tell me what this is all about?" But it didn't work. "Or am I going to have to use brute force?"

He huffed and dropped her hand, pulled his knees closer to his chest and pursed his lips as if to keep the world out. If anything, it made him look like a little kid, sulking in a ball, worlds away from the tough guy he wanted to be. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"No, but you're gonna," she replied firmly, prodding his side as she adjusted her position, facing him cross-legged to scrutinise every movement. "Come on. Tell Ol' (y/n/n) what's wrong."

How could he get away from that?

Henry sighed, all the air leaving his lungs as he pulled his palm over his tired eyes. He really didn't want to talk about it, but he knew she'd not let up. (y/n) always pulled the truth from him eventually, and unless the ground swallowed him up, there was nowhere to go.

"...I had a fight with Jasper." The confession slipped from his lips in a little whisper, nearly making him cry all over again.

"Oh." Was all (y/n) could react with – a bad habit that Ray could attest was like a punch in the gut when expecting another answer. But she was surprised, expecting some baggage from Dystopia, but nothing as serious. "Like physically or...?"

"No, we didn't beat each up!" The boy quickly protested, staring at her in alarm for ever thinking that. Sure, they argued, but he'd never hurt Jasper. At least not with his fists. "We just...fell out."

She nodded thoughtfully, piecing together everything from the moment they reunited to the dark look on Henry's face when he first stepped into Shimmers. "That why you've been giving Captain 'Stache daggers ever since we met him?"

"Is it that obvious?" He asked quietly, thinking he had masked his resentment well whenever the moustached hero flew beneath the glitter ball or fanned out his cape to send the crowd swooning.

Apparently not, as (y/n) snorted, shaking her head since she didn't find it funny. Her sharp eyes seemed to look right through him, making Henry feel guiltier, fidgeting like he was on the naughty step.

"The guy's got a dumb cape, but at the end of the day, he's still Jasper. Your best friend."

"I don't think we're friends anymore," he mumbled, picking at the skin on his fingers so he didn't have to watch her eyebrows fly to her hairline.

"God, is it really that bad?" Asked the heroine, assuming they'd bickered as all friends do, but it wasn't like him to lie. He had no reason to, and the confession had her leaning forward, an ever-deepening frown on her face. "What happened?"

He shrugged, acting like it didn't eat at his insides as he remembered every word between them—how they left cuts on both sides. "I want to move out. Get my own place. Do my own thing in Dystopia. He didn't take it well."

"Didn't take it well, or did you not give him a choice?" She asked, sounding as disturbed and disdainful as Jasper had when he learned the news. "Sounds like you didn't."

It was the sort of thing he always asked about whenever he phoned home, looking for advice from those who knew best. Still, truthfully, Henry hadn't said a peep in weeks before he found himself in Newtown, not to his roommate or his found family—a real go-it-aloner for no reason.

"I—well..." he stammered, trying to think of an excuse or explanation when she bit back, but unlike with Jasper, all the lies dried up. She said not to bullshit her, and when she was this close – their knees touching – he couldn't. "I guess things got out of hand. I upset him."

"And this reality stuff all happened before you could apologise?"

"Apologise?" The word didn't sit right on his tongue, feeling clumsy and tasting sour. He looked at her with a scrunched-up nose and a furrowed brow, almost expecting the woman to crack a smile and say—ha-ha, got you! But she didn't.

(y/n) stared back incredulously, searching his expression to see if he was joking. But he wasn't. "Yeah, Henry. It's where you say sorry. It's what friends do."

"But I did nothing wrong," he argued, looking more concerned with that idea than he had when admitting about the fight. He grew more restless with every second, not liking how her face suddenly looked displeased—and it was directed at him. "Don't look at me like that."

"Oh, I'm looking," she said sharply before folding her arms. Even in a world where she didn't have her tummy tingle, she suspected something suspicious. "What exactly happened between you two? Exactly."

Another sigh left Henry's mouth, and he tilted his head to look at the bright white lights, extractor fans, and pipes on the ceiling. He didn't know where to start, which was probably why he avoided the whole thing, but (y/n) insisted – took his arm and hugged it to her body, so there was no chance of escape.

Once he started, there was no stopping. Everything from the fight tumbled out in a torrent of word vomit, but it wasn't exactly how Jasper would have told the tale. (y/n) couldn't help but hear all the I's and me's as the kid rambled.

"There was a fight between us and Blackout. We won, but all he could focus on was this advertising deal I got with BizWatch. I mean, it's not my fault they blurred his photo, and then, he got all pissy with me 'cause apparently, I come across as his boss, and—"

"And then you decided that was the moment to tell him you wanted out," She asked, not wanting to jump in, but she got the gist.

He nodded slightly, breathless but feeling like a stone had lifted from his chest. "Yeah."

"...I mean, it's bad, but you think that's it? Friendship over 'cause of that?" The woman asked after a moment, mulling it over since he'd said a lot.

She didn't look convinced, becoming a little softer after wrongly thinking the kid was panicking over a mere disagreement. Well, he had news for her.

"That's not everything."

She tensed again, braced for the worst as he winced. The stone returned, crushing him with anxiety because Henry knew she wouldn't like the next bit. He saw it in her hard gaze and how she chewed her lip. "Oh, goodie."

"Before we separated, he brought you up," he explained, looking more disgruntled as the story unfolded, particularly as he recalled Jasper's low blow.

"Me?" (y/n) visibly recoiled, pointing at herself like there could ever be two of her. It made the kid smile bitterly, wishing that were the case because then, they wouldn't have to fight. there'd be enough (y/n/n) for the both of them. "What's this got to do with me?"

"Everything!" Henry exclaimed, finally coaxed from his moody silence as they reached his sore point – the bit Jasper prodded to provoke him deliberately. He just knew it.

"He said you'd want nothing to do with me if I left him. What he doesn't realise is that he's holding me back!"

At some point, he'd begun shouting, his voice echoing off the metal surfacing and ringing in the heroine's ears as she stared at him in shock. The outburst left him silently seething, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his fists squeezed like he was ready to hit something. She hated to see him in such a state, with reddened cheeks and frustrated tears pricking at his waterline, but she heard him—loud and clear.

The anger and – dare she think it – hatred creeping into his tone made her tummy drop, alarmed to hear him speak so harshly about someone she loved and someone he'd known his whole life. It left her feeling disgusted and sad to see what happened when she wasn't around to steer her babies in the right direction.

"Henry..." (y/n) said quietly, leaning back with an eerily calm expression. "Brace yourself."

"What do you mean brace my—ow!" The boy frowned, mouthing her words, only to grimace when she sharply whacked the back of his head, shaking her head as she did.

All he could do was rub at the sore spot and pout, wondering what he'd done to deserve her harshest punishment. "What was that for?!"

"For being a moron," (y/n) replied, tutting through her teeth as she propped her cheek up against her fist. "I can't believe what I'm hearing."

He crumbled under her stern gaze, turning from a raging beast to docile with one glance – now a pup with blunt canines. He didn't want to upset her, so Henry felt like whimpering, dipping his head and mumbling to placate the temper he'd roused.

"Please, don't take his side."

That had the woman blinking – one, two, three times, wishing she'd misheard him, but no. He said that—accused her of picking one kid over another, and truly, after so many years of knowing one another, (y/n) hoped Henry knew her better than that.

He didn't; otherwise, he'd know that (y/n) Manchester always tried to be fair, especially when it concerned the many children once under her wing. It was her number one rule: no one ever took her love away; it just grew when it needed to.

"Take his side? Henry, I am not taking anyone's side," she told him sternly, spitting out the words, glaring furiously and leaving him slightly petrified. "But I see things differently to you."

"Yeah..." he answered quietly, scoffing and rolling his eyes as his insecurities crept in. Before he knew what he said, he spilt his guts, looking at the heroine with glassy eyes and quivering lips.

"You see Jasper as your favourite, even though I've known you the longest."

Silence. Crickets. Could've heard a pin drop in China as (y/n) sat back and huffed.

Even if she chewed him out, shouted at him, and said she never wanted to see him again, Henry wished she'd say something as the seconds dragged on. Anything. It was better than looking at whatever emotion was on her face.

He wouldn't quite describe it as upset, angry, or shocked. Livid felt right, with (y/n) frozen except for her steady breathing, and all Henry could do was sit in the discomfort that came from knowing he'd screwed up--let his jealousy get the best of him.

He didn't mean to, but he had. And it unleashed her fury.

"Is that what this is about? Are you for real?" She asked him at last, spitting out the words and folding her arms. "Let me tell you one thing. I don't have favourites. Yes, I try to take care of Jasper a little bit more than the rest of you, but do you know why that is?"

He glanced away and shook his head, at least having the decency to look ashamed, although he wasn't thrilled to hear her talk about him. "No."

"Because he has no one else. Just me, you, Charlotte, Piper, Schwoz, and Ray," (y/n) said, her tone deadly serious as she reached out to take his chin between her forefinger and thumb.

If they were doing this, she'd make him listen and see reason, pulling the kid's face away from his lap and towards hers, keeping it there. If he wanted to squabble about who got her attention the most, she'd treat him like a child because that's what he acted like.

The truth was far from his childish jealousy. Emotion flickered across her face as she spoke of an unmentionable open secret– the elephant in every room they'd ever been in because Jasper didn't like to talk about it. But still, everyone knew.

"You know just as well as I do that his parents never gave a damn about him."

"Yeah..." Henry nodded solemnly. He'd never liked talking about it, either. As long as Jasper went over to his house, stayed away from the toxicity of his own, and thrived in school, it was easy to ignore. Or at least it was that way for him.

"When we lived in the Man Cave, you got to go home to your mom and dad. They weren't perfect, but they loved you. Jasper, on the other hand..."

He closed his eyes at the reminder, wincing as he knew who she was talking about. There was only one person it could be. "His mom..."

"Didn't care where he was as long as she didn't have to lift a finger." (y/n) nodded, her lips set into a straight line as she nearly growled at the thought of that despicable woman.

Fortunately for Jasper's mom, they'd never met – the only reason why (y/n) hadn't put her in a hospital and herself in a jail cell.

The heroine was sure she would've slapped her every time Jasper came to her crying or asked for dinner because he'd had none. Too many times, he'd had to humiliate himself, politely asking if he could use their laundry room because his mother didn't wash clothes—but he promised not to cause trouble!

He never had to ask again; (y/n) made sure of that.

"I remember once I went up into Junk-N-Stuff. It must've been nearly midnight, and he kept saying he'd do one last chore before heading off. Really, he just didn't want to go home."

"So, what did you do?" Henry asked quietly, hanging onto every word of the story he'd never heard. He knew things were bad, but he never knew the extent.

"I let him stay, of course," she answered instantly, not doubting her reply like she didn't doubt her response all those years ago.

There was never any question for her that night; within half an hour, Jasper had his own room, a warm bed, and a promise. It was his for however long he needed it.

"Ray likes to pretend Jasper annoys him, but the minute he found out what was going on, he never sent him home again. He stayed with us—with people who love him."

"That's why he was always first to work?"

"He never left." (y/n) smiled. She always remembered how her doofus complained about the lack of hot water in the morning, how Jasper left crumbs everywhere, and how he always walked in at the wrong moment, but those were good days.

She dreaded to think what would've happened if they'd done the opposite. That was the bit Henry didn't understand – the side he never wanted to see because it made him uncomfortable.

"It's not about favouritism, Hen. Jasper always needed a little bit of extra love. God knows he didn't get it at home."

"Never thought about it that way," the young hero muttered as shame swelled within him, and the heroine sighed.

"Sounds like you haven't thought about anyone else at all," she said, knowing it had to be said, even if the sight of him sniffling made her feel rotten. But not nearly as rotten as he'd been. "I've raised a lot of kids. I know what you all need."

Henry looked at her curiously, having never thought his friends needed so much care and attention. If anything, he saw everyone as pretty low maintenance. Yet, when (y/n) began to explain, her eyes turning fond and gentle, he supposed he didn't get it. After all, he never had to care the way she did.

"Piper needs friends. People who actually see who she is under all her Piperness. Charlotte needs confidence. She doesn't want people to think she's a know-it-all, but being the smartest person in the room isn't something to be ashamed of."

"And the others?"

Happiness spread across the woman's pretty features, practically glowing at the reminder of the four heroes she and Ray left back in Swellview. "They're doing all right on their own at the moment. We check in every week."

"And me?" He couldn't help but ask. Everyone else had a mention, including the ones who came after his lot. Curiosity won out, and (y/n) gave him a bemused smile.

"You, Henry Hart?" She raised an eyebrow, seeing the anxiousness on his face—as if she'd ever say anything other than her adoration for him. "You're a brave, funny, kind, caring kid, but you're arrogant. It's always been your downfall."

The boy frowned at that, naturally rejecting any smear of his character, even if it came from someone who knew him best. "Can't I just have friend issues?"

She didn't look mad anymore, and at least that was something. A warm hand returned to his knee as she spoke, not unkindly but frankly. He needed to hear it.

"You're likeable, Henry. So many people care about you. So many people want to be like you, and it's been that way since you were thirteen. It's gone to your head."

"...I'm not that bad," the kid replied moodily, but in the end, he gave a defeated shrug. "I just don't want to be always known as Captain Man's sidekick. I want to be me."

"Doesn't mean you have to do it all by yourself," (y/n) told him, thinking she was beginning to sound old and wise, but it got through to him. Henry placed his hand over hers, dropping his head on her shoulder as she continued, soaking up every word like a sponge.

"It's all well and good pretending like you don't need anyone, but one day, you'll look around after cutting everyone out, and you'll realise there's no one left. The problem with being at the top is you're alone, and the only way to go is down."

He had no answer for that, letting out nothing more than a snuffle as he brushed another tear away, wishing he could stop snivelling like a baby. The last thing he ever wanted was to end up as some sad, lonely loser, always assuming people would stick by him no matter how many times he climbed over them.

(y/n) pulled him closer, holding him tight as she wrapped an arm around him, keenly aware of how her foot had gone to sleep, but she could ignore that.

"Jasper has always had your back, and now, he's come into his own," she whispered, stroking her fingertips through the boy's hair to soothe his little sobs. It always worked when he was younger, crying when a girlfriend dumped him or Mitch Bilsky said something too mean.

"You would be an idiot to let that friendship go. You'd regret it."

"Did you?" Henry asked quietly, feeling his sister tense momentarily since the pain was still a little near.

"Yeah. Every day after it happened," replied (y/n), swallowing thickly before smiling, water gathering on her eyelashes, too. It all worked out in the end, but what she wouldn't give to go back in time and do things differently...

"She's doing all right now, but we hardly spoke for fifteen years. I'd hate to see the same thing happen to you."

He nodded thoughtfully and released the lip he'd been chewing on. As much as it wounded his pride to admit it, he knew what he needed to do – before it was too late. "Then, I should say sorry..."

"Yep." At last, a bright smile crossed (y/n)'s face. She turned and planted a gentle kiss against his dirty blond hair, prouder by that one admission than any death-defying rescue he could have performed, and Henry relished it.

"And lose this dumb idea in your head that there's some competition going on. 'Cause there's not, okay? All my babies make me proud."

"Okay," he answered, nodding or nuzzling closer – the heroine couldn't tell. Still, she didn't mind, rubbing her cheek on his head as they sat on the dirty floor, hiding in a kitchen staffed by mercifully flaky cooks.

It was a peaceful moment, and Henry felt happier than he had done in weeks, finally okay with being in the world around them. It still wasn't great; neither wanted to linger, but (y/n) knew how to make it better. She always did. "And you know what?"

"What?"

"I love you, Henry," she whispered, holding him in one of her snuggly hugs as the brave, funny, kind, caring, painfully arrogant but trying-to-do-better young hero hid his grin in her shoulder.

His ears felt hot as he replied, grateful no one was around to see a twenty-three-year-old man hugging his older sister with a blissed-out expression. He'd never live it down, but he'd be damned if he didn't say it back.

"...I love you, too, (y/n/n)."

Yeah, he felt better now.

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