Black and Blue

by Nancy O'Toole Meservier

  “But it wasn’t like that before. When you stopped Calypso from stealing my powers. And before that, when you tried to break me out of the Grand Bailey. It’s almost becoming a pattern.”

  “A pattern?”

  “One that I don’t really understand.” She looked down, shaking her head. “I don’t always read these things…”

  I took a step up the stairs, pulling us closer. Dawn looked up, her eyes widening slightly.

  “I would say that I’m pretty easy to understand,” I said. “Dawn—”

  And then her phone vibrated in her hand. She jumped, almost dropping the device in the process.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Police scanner app.”

  She paused and tapped on the screen. Then froze.

  “Apparently, it’s a big day for crime in Bailey City,” she said with a forced laugh. “If you’d excuse me.”

  And with that, she turned away from me, walking up the few remaining stairs until she reached the open door at the top of the stairwell. Then she paused.

  “Alex?” She said, not turning around.

  “Ah…yes?”

  “I…thanks for texting me.”

  And with that, she shook her head and exited the building.

  “Well, shit,” I said.

  4

  Dawn

  “What a disaster!”

  I paused in the doorway to see Sunshine surveying a garment rack filled with sweaters and other cozy-looking clothing, mostly in a monochromatic color scheme. Sunshine was dressed to match, if not in style, then in color, with a black-and-white-checkered sweater and black pencil skirt. A flash of red could be found on her lips, her scarf, and the pumps on her feet.

  “I’m assuming you’re not talking about the clothes,” I said from the doorway.

  “God, no,” Sunshine said. “They’re absolutely gorgeous, and such good quality too.”

  “The coffee then?” I raised a coffee-laden cardboard tray in my right hand.

  “Ugh! Thank you.”

  I smiled and walked toward her. I placed the drinks from The Cupcake Café on a nearby table. The flat surface already hosted a duo of coffee carafes and several porcelain coffee mugs. I’m sure the beverage wasn’t as bad as Sunshine had made it out to be. She just had very…particular tastes when it came to her food and drink. And speaking of food…

  “Are those scones?” Sunshine pointed at the paper bag I had placed next to the coffee tray.

  “Of course,” I replied with a smile.

  “Dawn, you are my favorite person. Have I ever told you that?” She reached for the coffee.

  “Only when I come bearing refreshments. I don’t know how Renee or Genevieve take their coffee, but I can go back.”

  “Oh, knowing Renee she’ll pick something up from Starbucks on the way,” Sunshine said. “And Genevieve’s off caffeine. Somehow.”

  “I got a couple of extra scones just in case.”

  “Trust me, these aren’t people who appreciate carbs.” Sunshine opened the bag and picked out a pastry. “I’ll make sure they don’t go to waste.”

  She took a bite, and a smile spread across her face.

  “So…is this disaster really about subpar coffee?” I asked.

  It might seem strange that having successfully elevated my friend’s mood with baked goods, I would immediately try and drag it back down again, but when it came to Sunshine, a lot of things fell under the category of “disaster.” Not getting an A on a test. Having a disappointing first date. When her shoes didn’t complement her outfit in the right way. All that remained to be seen was the level of chaos Sunshine had stumbled into today.

  “It’s going to raaain,” she said in a wistful half-sigh.

  Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best thing for a photo shoot.

  Sunshine had been running a fashion blog since she was in high school, and in the past year or so, it had started to take off. She had told me once that her profile was high enough that she regularly received requests for endorsements and sponsorships. She even accepted a portion of them (“textbook money”), but it was rare that she managed to come across an endorsement that truly lined up with her values.

  Enter Genevieve Stallone, a local, sustainable designer who managed to check off many of Sunshine’s boxes and just happened to want to do a photo shoot. It’s true that her more streamlined collection didn’t fit Sunshine’s vintage-inspired style, but Sunshine could understand the difference between personal taste and true quality.

  And she was clearly super-stressed about the whole thing.

  “They didn’t say anything about rain on the weather today,” I replied, trying to be helpful.

  “Yeah, but have you seen those clouds?” Sunshine paused and turned to the large window that made up half of the wall. She looked out over a green, grassy area housing a single maple tree. The foliage had gone bright red for autumn. Half of the leaves had already fallen, leaving the top almost bare. Spots of crimson lay scattered across the ground.

  “Um…they don’t look that bad to me.” I peered out the window. “And didn’t you say that direct sunlight wasn’t the most ideal situation for photography?”

  “That’s true,” Sunshine said, pausing to take a bite of her scone. “Anyway, anything new with you? I feel like we haven’t had an actual conversation in a while.”

  I winced. Since Northwest Comics— which had been a pretty brief encounter—I had spent the past couple of days doing my best to catch up on homework while checking my phone every five minutes like a lovesick teenager.

  Which wasn’t that far from the truth.

  It has been pointed out to me that I’m not always the best at picking up on certain romance-focused social cues. It’s just…sometimes I get so caught up in obsessing over stupid things that I miss out on the obvious ones.

  Just look at Alex. Anyone could have picked up on what he meant by, “I would say that I’m pretty easy to understand.” And what had I done in response? Pretty much run out of the room. It had seemed so logical at the time. There was a robbery in progress. People’s lives could be in danger! Didn’t that take precedence over my stupid, messed up emotions?

  But in retrospect, all I could hear was Amity’s words, talking about how good I was at not dealing with my problems. How I would reach for any excuse to keep myself from facing the truth.

  Why was it that as Hikari, I could run into burning buildings, face down armed men, and jump across the top of skyscrapers, but as Dawn, I couldn’t even face up to my own feelings? Being in costume didn’t stop me from feeling fear or anxiety, but during my everyday life, those things controlled me.

  And now…I’m pretty sure I had ruined everything. Alex’s intentions may have been “pretty easy to understand” on Friday, but once he had time to mull over the potential consequences of turning Marty Tong over to the police, I bet he wouldn’t see me in such an attractive light. Ethical quandaries. It was one thing when you were reading about Iron Man Civil War-ing against Captain America, or Batman and Superman freaking out about Wonder Woman breaking Maxwell Lord’s neck, but in real life, they sucked.

  “Hello! Earth to Dawn!”

  I blinked to see Sunshine waving the scone in front of my face. I winced in response.

  “Sorry,” I said. “It’s just…I spoke to Alex on Friday.”

  Sunshine let out a gasp, her right hand fluttering to her chest in an almost comical way.

  “How have you not told me this? It’s been what? A whole forty-eight hours?”

  “Ah…pretty close?”

  My deadline was going to be up at noon, and it was almost ten. I had heard nothing from Alex since Colossus. Maybe I should have given him more time? Had I pushed him too far?

  “Okay,” she said. “But I thought that ship had sailed! You haven’t seen him since your impromptu gelato date on the pier.”

  “Yeah…I know.”

  “Did he grovel for not calling you? I would have made him grovel.”

  “I’m
just as capable of picking up the phone as he is.”

  “Well, yeah. Yay feminism and all that, but you’ve um…been busy.”

  And then it settled over us. That awkwardness that came up whenever we talked about my abduction. Make that abductions, since the benefit. Ugh, things had gotten too complicated. Sunshine’s normal torrent of enthusiasm was cut off as fast as turning off a light switch.

  Dammit.

  “Anyway, we kind of…ran into each other,” I said. “And he…I think he’s still into me.”

  “Duh! Why wouldn’t he be!”

  “I can think of a few reasons.” My gaze dropped down and to the left. “I might have messed it up.”

  Before Sunshine could reply, Renee Hua, Sunshine’s model for the day and our classmate at Bailey U, walked in the door in dark skinny jeans and a classic trench, a Starbucks cup in her hand.

  Part of the point of Sunshine’s blog was showing that people of any size could look great. It was a result, Sunshine said, of “being the first girl in my tiny-ass elementary school to get boobs.” As a result, the “models” that Sunshine picked out (usually classmates she roped in using the power of pure enthusiasm) tended to fall across a wide spectrum, from short and scrawny me, to Sunshine’s tall and muscular roommate, to several plus-sized women she had found through comments on the blog. Renee was the first person she had invited who actually looked like a model.

  I had known Renee Hua since grade school, and she had always been tall, leggy, and gorgeous, with long, silky black hair, perpetually clear skin, and impeccable taste. But, while most people would look at her and assume “mean girl,” she was incredibly sweet. I don’t think I had ever heard her say anything overly negative about anyone.

  “I feel kind of strange to go so traditional, given the point of my blog,” Sunshine had told me after Renee had agreed. “But I took one look at Genevieve’s line and immediately thought of Renee.”

  “Hi Sunshine,” Renee said in her soft-spoken way. “And Dawn. I didn’t know you’d be here. Will you be taking pictures too?”

  “Ah…more moral support,” I replied.

  “One time I had her hold a fan to simulate wind,” Sunshine piped up.

  “I dropped it.” I looked to the floor. “It was heavy.”

  “But the pictures turned out great!”

  “Thanks for inviting me,” Renee said, putting her coffee down on the table next to mine. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  As she spoke, she unbuttoned her trench coat and began the process of unwinding her long, skinny scarf.

  “That surprises me,” Sunshine said. “I mean…anyone can be an Instagram model these days, and—not to be rude—but given how you look…”

  “Me putting up a bunch of photos of myself for everyone to see results in a few too many comments from ah…men who see such pictures as an invitation. I figured your audience would be a little more welcoming.”

  “Oh, usually,” Sunshine said. “But there’s always the mute button.”

  “Are we waiting on Genevieve?” Renee asked.

  “Yeah,” Sunshine said, turning to the clock. “Kinda weird that she’s not here yet.”

  “Oh, traffic is awful. Is she coming from the east?”

  Sunshine blinked and turned to me.

  “You didn’t mention anything.”

  Well, I had taken the rooftop jumping method after crossing the river. So much faster than walking. Not to mention fun. There was just no replacing the sensation of the wind in your hair, the thrill as you looked down and realized that there was nothing but dozens of stories of air beneath you and the solid ground…

  “I must have just missed it,” I said, sprouting out one of my many pre-planned excuses for Actual-related activity. Fortunately, I had performed this one in front of the mirror enough times that it sounded mostly true.

  “What’s the traffic for anyway?” Sunshine asked.

  “Political something or other,” Renee said as she glanced through the clothing she would be wearing. “Oooh. I love the fit of this.”

  She pulled out a boxy pullover, and Sunshine mentioned something about the fabric, but my mind went in another direction.

  “Is it for Mayor Kent?” I asked.

  “Former Mayor Kent,” Sunshine corrected.

  “Yeah.” Renee paused, her fingers running across a soft-looking sweater. “My parents are there.”

  “Ugh. Boomers.” Sunshine rolled her eyes.

  Renee dropped her gaze to the fabric.

  “Are you thinking about voting for him?” I asked.

  “Well, I don’t know,” Renee replied. “I mean, I don’t really agree with a lot of his politics, but his thoughts on Actuals…”

  “Don’t tell me you’re in the anti-Hikari club as well,” Sunshine said.

  “Oh, no! I like her fine. I think she’s done a lot of good for everyone.”

  “Yeah, but Kent is anti-Actuals, period. Thinks they’re responsible for all of the problems in the city or whatever.” Sunshine paused. “Either that or he hates cats.”

  “Well, I was talking to my parents last night, and they saw this post on Facebook and, well, it really made me think. I don’t think Hikari’s at fault for anything, but it’s clear that the city needs protection against Empowered people who don’t have our best interests at heart. The problem is, going back, the first Actuals that came about weren’t in response to Empowered villains. It was the other way around. It wasn’t until Golden Strike and Silver Shot started putting on masks that people on the other side started doing the same. Their presence raised the threat level.”

  “So what…if we never had any heroes, then we wouldn’t have any villains?”

  “Well…that is what happened, right?”

  I chewed on my lip. It wasn’t an unfamiliar idea. After all, if there wasn’t a Batman to inspire him, would there ever be a Joker? And there was some evidence to support it—the more heroes you had, the more villains that resulted, after all.

  Only…it was more complicated than that. Golden Strike and Silver Shot weren’t the first Empowered people in existence, after all. Amity had told me so weeks ago, that a strange organization known as “the Forgers” had somehow been making Empowered people—in secret—for years. In fact, they even preselected people to make sure problems like Calypso wouldn’t happen in the first place.

  Of course, that didn’t change the fact that Calypso had happened in the first place. Was it all a matter of timing? Were Empowered villains bound to have emerged eventually? Maybe we were lucky that heroes had gotten out in front of the game.

  Sunshine retorted in her straightforward, borderlining-on-rude kind of way, bringing me out of my thoughts. Looks like I would need to jump in on this before things got uncomfortable/awkward. Model of kindness or not, people didn’t react well to having their politics criticized.

  But before I could think of something to say, the door opened and a petite, dark-haired woman stepped inside. She was dressed from head to toe in black. From the straightening of Sunshine’s shoulders, I assumed this was the designer.

  I sat back and took a sip of my hot chocolate. Hoping, if anything, the shoot would distract me enough to keep me from constantly checking my phone as the forty-eight-hour deadline drew closer.

  It didn’t.

  At 12:15, I stopped waiting for Alex and called Detective Bronson.

  “Bronson.” A clipped voice said on the other line.

  “Hello, detective,” I replied from my position atop Colossus Fitness, my cape flowing behind me in the autumn. Good thing I didn’t feel the cold while costumed up.

  I have a…complicated history with Detective Bronson. During our first meeting, I had hated her guts. The woman had burst into my life, expecting answers about the abduction that resulted in my powers, and the last thing I had wanted to do was give that to her. Then, she had re-emerged during the benefit, and I had learned the advantages of having a determined, authoritative personality on m
y side who was really good at shooting bad guys.

  Detective Bronson didn’t demand respect. No, she entered every room knowing she had control over the situation and just expected everyone else to fall in line. And the weird thing was, they usually did. The last time we had spoken, I had joked that she was my Commissioner Gordon, my inside person on the force. She had balked at the comparison—surprise, surprise, officers of the law weren’t the fondest of masked vigilantes outside of comic books either—but I still found it apt. I hadn’t taken advantage of that relationship in the weeks since the benefit. In truth, I hadn’t really had a reason.

  Until now.

  “It’s your favorite Actual!” I said into my phone, all bright and cheerful.

  Detective Bronson let out a sigh. “Already in costume, I take it?”

  “How did you know?”

  “You’re not nearly this chipper when you’re in Clark Kent mode.”

  “Good reference! Do you think I should get a pair of chunky glasses?”

  “No. Is there a reason you called?”

  I felt the smile fall off my face.

  “I know where Marty Tong is,” I said.

  “You have my attention.”

  The detective pulled up to the back of Colossus Fitness about ten minutes later. I jumped from the top of the building, landing in a “superhero landing” that would have done Deadpool proud. I straightened up, and the detective rolled her eyes.

  “How the hell do you not break your legs while doing that?”

  “Huh?” I asked.

  “I’ve seen you jumping from building to building. And I know how your healing works. It’s not instantaneous. You should be breaking bones every time you land like that.”

  “Huh,” I repeated. “I never really thought about it that way.”

  Amity had mentioned that she didn’t really understand how my powers worked. Was this what she had been talking about?

  “Anyway, you mentioned that you knew where the Tong kid was?”

  “Yeah,” I said with a frown. “But I need to warn you. He’s pretty upset. Still grieving over Calypso. And unlike the other drones, his memory about certain secret identities is pretty intact.”