(no subject)
Sorry about the delay on this one...the rest should come pretty regularly, now...
CHAPTER SIX
Chase’s head was pounding as he crossed the store. He almost put hs foot down on a copy of RUNAWAYS #18, stopped himself, and shifted his foot to miss the book. He shook his head, amazed at how out of it he must have been to almost step on one of the best comic books of the last 10 years. He took a breather half-way across the sales floor, leaning against the counter. The headache had reached is crescendo and was steadily falling away, it seemed. Chase forced himself to the door.
He exited into the cool November air. He pulled in a deep breath and let it out. Then another. The headache disappeared completely and he had to admit that he felt great. Better than he had in a long time. He looked up and down the street, deciding where to go.
He saw the Starbuck’s sign four blocks down and smiled. He had never really gotten to drink much of his coffee and it seemed that Lydia might have gone into work after all. He tucked his hands into his pockets and headed off.
Halfway there, the woman with the labradoodle passed by again. She stayed on the same side of the street this time, because Chase wasn’t mumbling to himself. She smiled as she passed, a tight-lipped yet friendly little number. Chase look her right in the eyes. Then he stopped in his tracks.
“Are you alright,” the dog-walker asked.
Chase was staring at her, moving his head as if he were trying to see through her face, as if he were looking for a crack through which to peer. “Huh, um…what, yeah, yeah, I’m alright. Sorry, you just…um…you look lik someone I used to know.” He backed up, not being able to find what he thought he saw.
He thought he had seen a lump right between her eyes. Even that wasn’t right - it had been right between and behind her eyes. He shook his head. The dog-walking woman crossed to the other side of the street almost immediately, not taking her eyes off of Chase as she moved. “Sorry,” he called after her again, waving, “you’ve got a cute dog.”
He started walking again, brow furrowed. He had seen the lump, he knew it. It had been there, plain as day, stuck to her…
He stopped again. He couldn’t finish the thought, even though he knew, deep down, that it was true. The lump had been stuck to her brain. He had seen her brain. Through her skull.
The Super-Serum had worked. He turned back toward the store and the dog-walking woman. Adam’s stupid Super-Serum had given him superpowers. He had seen through that woman’s skull. He had seen a tumor on that woman’s brain with his own eyes.
He did a little jump, pumping his fist in the air. He had super-powers. Honest to god abilities above the ken of mortal man. He was a meta-human. He was a power. He was a super-hero. He stood there, letting the realization wash over him. He could see things no one else could see, do things no one else could do. He had power. Great power. And, with great power comes…
He had seen a tumor on the woman’s brain. He broke into a run. A few feet back down the block he stopped. He couldn’t tell her that he had seen a tumor on her brain. He couldn’t walk up to her and tell her that his idiot co-worker at the comic book shop had managed to give him super-powers, and that, amongst that suite of powers was X-Ray Vision with which he had seen a tumor on her brain.
Superman could do that, but Chase couldn’t. Chase realized that, in the real world, Superman would be arrested almost immediately. He started to consider how modern law enforcement would contain Superman when he noticed the dog-walking woman rounding a corner, heading out of sight.
He started running. He knew he’d never sleep soundly again if he didn’t say something to help her. He was going to have to wing it, but he was determined to save her.
He slammed into her. She fell to the ground with a startled little cry. Her labradoodle yelped. The woman managed to sputter, “Why did you run into me?” Chase was as flummoxed as she was - he truly had no idea how he had covered three or so blocks in almost an instant.
“Um, sorry, I forgot to turn my…oven…off…” Chase could smell burning rubber. He looked down at his feet and could see thin, whispy smoke rising from the soles of his shoes. “Are you okay,” he asked, holding out his hand to help her up. She looked at his hand cautiously, then looked up into his eyes. Suddenly, Chase could see it again - a peanut-sized lump on the front of her brain. He smiled at her and said, “Let me help you up.”
She reluctantly took his hand. When she did, the X-Ray Vision shut off again, and Chase found himself staring into her eyes. He sheepishly looked away.
“You should watch where you’re going,” she said, dusting off her black pants. “You could hurt someone running around corners that fast.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” Chase watched her frantically as she set about tidying herself from her spill. She adjusted her shoelaces, her jacket zipper, and her headband. All the while, Chase was trying to figure out how to broach the subject. “Um…yeah…well,” he stammered.
She looked up at him. “Look, if you’re going to ask me out, just do it.” Her hard-edged looked broke into a sunny smile. “I just might give you my phone number.”
“Oh, no, no. That’s not…” Chase took two steps back, hands up, palms out. “I…well, you see…I…” He was losing his nerve. He couldn’t come up with anything that wouldn’t sound creepy, crazy, or both. As he raced through all the possibilities, he felt his mouth moving. “A friend of mine fell like that once. He had some serious internal damage. You should definitely get checked out.” He realized what he had said and, pleased, nodded.
The dog-walking woman took his nod as a sign of condescension. She hardened again. “Look, I have to get going,” she said curtly. She turned to walk away.
“You should really go to the doctor,” Chase pleaded. “You might have hurt your head, falling like that.”
“She turned back to him. “I fell on my butt, not my head,” she replied. “My head’s just fine.” She snapped her labradoodle’s leash like the reins of a horse and the dog strated off down the block. Chase was going to blow it.
“I think you have cancer,” he called out. “I can’t tell you why, but I think you might have a brain tumor.” The woman stopped and looked at him, incredulous. “If I were Superman, you’d be thanking me right about now,” he said, trying to break the tension.
The woman brought her right hand, the one not holding the leash, out of her pocket in a blinding flash. She pressed down on the button of the pepper spray cannister as she pointed it at Chase’s eyes. She let out an Amazonian cry as she did.
Chase threw his hands up in front of his face to no avail. The spray got into his eyes and nose. He fell onto his back with a cry. He balled his fists to rub at his eyes when the itching started.
It didn’t. He opened one eye. Then he opened the other. No burning. No itching. No brain-numbing pain. He took a deep breath through his nose. Nothing, just the slightly acrid Chicago air. He watched through strangely tearless eyes as the dog-walking woman sprinted down the street.
Chase’s shoulders slumped. His first act as a superhero had failed. Miserably. At least he knew he was impervious to pepper spray. He got to his feet and headed back toward the Starbuck’s.
He wondered what other super-powers he had. X-Ray Vision he knew. He obviously had Super-Speed or why else would his shoes have been smoking. He had some level of Invulnerability, at least to pepper spray. What else could he do? As he walked he looked around, checking that he was unobserved. When he was sure that he was, he dropped to one knee, driving his fist into the concrete.
When he lifted his unscathed hand out of thefive inch crater he had made, he added Super-Strength to the list. He popped to his feet, overcome with the idea that maybe, just maybe, he could fly. He had always dreamed of flying. He hated planes and was often heard to say, “If I could fly under my own power, I would do it all the time. Until then, I’ll stick to land-based modes of travel, thanks.”
He started thinking about how awesome flying would be. Just him, out in the air, thumbing his nose at gravity. He imagined the tingling he’d feel in his stomach as he swooped and dove, pinwheeled and soared.
He realized that he had no safe way of testing out his powers. The only way to test if he could fly was to throw himself out into the air.
He stopped outside and peered in through the shop’s large, logo covered window. Lydia was behind the counter, an apron covering her jeans and sweatshirt, the ball cap replaced by her Starbuck’s hat but still pulled down low. The line was only a few people long now. He stared at her for a second. He couldn’t have been imagining it, could he - she had definitely looked at him when she was talking about daydreaming about other guys. He wondered if maybe he shouldn’t go in, if perhaps he was reading too much into things because of April dumping him and Adam cajoling him. Then he remembered he had super-powers.
Chase stepped back from the window and shifted his focus from inside to his reflection. He smoothed his hair, adjusted his jacket, and opened the door.
The behemoth in the white suit slammed into him, covering both of them in hot coffee.
CHAPTER SIX
Chase’s head was pounding as he crossed the store. He almost put hs foot down on a copy of RUNAWAYS #18, stopped himself, and shifted his foot to miss the book. He shook his head, amazed at how out of it he must have been to almost step on one of the best comic books of the last 10 years. He took a breather half-way across the sales floor, leaning against the counter. The headache had reached is crescendo and was steadily falling away, it seemed. Chase forced himself to the door.
He exited into the cool November air. He pulled in a deep breath and let it out. Then another. The headache disappeared completely and he had to admit that he felt great. Better than he had in a long time. He looked up and down the street, deciding where to go.
He saw the Starbuck’s sign four blocks down and smiled. He had never really gotten to drink much of his coffee and it seemed that Lydia might have gone into work after all. He tucked his hands into his pockets and headed off.
Halfway there, the woman with the labradoodle passed by again. She stayed on the same side of the street this time, because Chase wasn’t mumbling to himself. She smiled as she passed, a tight-lipped yet friendly little number. Chase look her right in the eyes. Then he stopped in his tracks.
“Are you alright,” the dog-walker asked.
Chase was staring at her, moving his head as if he were trying to see through her face, as if he were looking for a crack through which to peer. “Huh, um…what, yeah, yeah, I’m alright. Sorry, you just…um…you look lik someone I used to know.” He backed up, not being able to find what he thought he saw.
He thought he had seen a lump right between her eyes. Even that wasn’t right - it had been right between and behind her eyes. He shook his head. The dog-walking woman crossed to the other side of the street almost immediately, not taking her eyes off of Chase as she moved. “Sorry,” he called after her again, waving, “you’ve got a cute dog.”
He started walking again, brow furrowed. He had seen the lump, he knew it. It had been there, plain as day, stuck to her…
He stopped again. He couldn’t finish the thought, even though he knew, deep down, that it was true. The lump had been stuck to her brain. He had seen her brain. Through her skull.
The Super-Serum had worked. He turned back toward the store and the dog-walking woman. Adam’s stupid Super-Serum had given him superpowers. He had seen through that woman’s skull. He had seen a tumor on that woman’s brain with his own eyes.
He did a little jump, pumping his fist in the air. He had super-powers. Honest to god abilities above the ken of mortal man. He was a meta-human. He was a power. He was a super-hero. He stood there, letting the realization wash over him. He could see things no one else could see, do things no one else could do. He had power. Great power. And, with great power comes…
He had seen a tumor on the woman’s brain. He broke into a run. A few feet back down the block he stopped. He couldn’t tell her that he had seen a tumor on her brain. He couldn’t walk up to her and tell her that his idiot co-worker at the comic book shop had managed to give him super-powers, and that, amongst that suite of powers was X-Ray Vision with which he had seen a tumor on her brain.
Superman could do that, but Chase couldn’t. Chase realized that, in the real world, Superman would be arrested almost immediately. He started to consider how modern law enforcement would contain Superman when he noticed the dog-walking woman rounding a corner, heading out of sight.
He started running. He knew he’d never sleep soundly again if he didn’t say something to help her. He was going to have to wing it, but he was determined to save her.
He slammed into her. She fell to the ground with a startled little cry. Her labradoodle yelped. The woman managed to sputter, “Why did you run into me?” Chase was as flummoxed as she was - he truly had no idea how he had covered three or so blocks in almost an instant.
“Um, sorry, I forgot to turn my…oven…off…” Chase could smell burning rubber. He looked down at his feet and could see thin, whispy smoke rising from the soles of his shoes. “Are you okay,” he asked, holding out his hand to help her up. She looked at his hand cautiously, then looked up into his eyes. Suddenly, Chase could see it again - a peanut-sized lump on the front of her brain. He smiled at her and said, “Let me help you up.”
She reluctantly took his hand. When she did, the X-Ray Vision shut off again, and Chase found himself staring into her eyes. He sheepishly looked away.
“You should watch where you’re going,” she said, dusting off her black pants. “You could hurt someone running around corners that fast.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” Chase watched her frantically as she set about tidying herself from her spill. She adjusted her shoelaces, her jacket zipper, and her headband. All the while, Chase was trying to figure out how to broach the subject. “Um…yeah…well,” he stammered.
She looked up at him. “Look, if you’re going to ask me out, just do it.” Her hard-edged looked broke into a sunny smile. “I just might give you my phone number.”
“Oh, no, no. That’s not…” Chase took two steps back, hands up, palms out. “I…well, you see…I…” He was losing his nerve. He couldn’t come up with anything that wouldn’t sound creepy, crazy, or both. As he raced through all the possibilities, he felt his mouth moving. “A friend of mine fell like that once. He had some serious internal damage. You should definitely get checked out.” He realized what he had said and, pleased, nodded.
The dog-walking woman took his nod as a sign of condescension. She hardened again. “Look, I have to get going,” she said curtly. She turned to walk away.
“You should really go to the doctor,” Chase pleaded. “You might have hurt your head, falling like that.”
“She turned back to him. “I fell on my butt, not my head,” she replied. “My head’s just fine.” She snapped her labradoodle’s leash like the reins of a horse and the dog strated off down the block. Chase was going to blow it.
“I think you have cancer,” he called out. “I can’t tell you why, but I think you might have a brain tumor.” The woman stopped and looked at him, incredulous. “If I were Superman, you’d be thanking me right about now,” he said, trying to break the tension.
The woman brought her right hand, the one not holding the leash, out of her pocket in a blinding flash. She pressed down on the button of the pepper spray cannister as she pointed it at Chase’s eyes. She let out an Amazonian cry as she did.
Chase threw his hands up in front of his face to no avail. The spray got into his eyes and nose. He fell onto his back with a cry. He balled his fists to rub at his eyes when the itching started.
It didn’t. He opened one eye. Then he opened the other. No burning. No itching. No brain-numbing pain. He took a deep breath through his nose. Nothing, just the slightly acrid Chicago air. He watched through strangely tearless eyes as the dog-walking woman sprinted down the street.
Chase’s shoulders slumped. His first act as a superhero had failed. Miserably. At least he knew he was impervious to pepper spray. He got to his feet and headed back toward the Starbuck’s.
He wondered what other super-powers he had. X-Ray Vision he knew. He obviously had Super-Speed or why else would his shoes have been smoking. He had some level of Invulnerability, at least to pepper spray. What else could he do? As he walked he looked around, checking that he was unobserved. When he was sure that he was, he dropped to one knee, driving his fist into the concrete.
When he lifted his unscathed hand out of thefive inch crater he had made, he added Super-Strength to the list. He popped to his feet, overcome with the idea that maybe, just maybe, he could fly. He had always dreamed of flying. He hated planes and was often heard to say, “If I could fly under my own power, I would do it all the time. Until then, I’ll stick to land-based modes of travel, thanks.”
He started thinking about how awesome flying would be. Just him, out in the air, thumbing his nose at gravity. He imagined the tingling he’d feel in his stomach as he swooped and dove, pinwheeled and soared.
He realized that he had no safe way of testing out his powers. The only way to test if he could fly was to throw himself out into the air.
He stopped outside and peered in through the shop’s large, logo covered window. Lydia was behind the counter, an apron covering her jeans and sweatshirt, the ball cap replaced by her Starbuck’s hat but still pulled down low. The line was only a few people long now. He stared at her for a second. He couldn’t have been imagining it, could he - she had definitely looked at him when she was talking about daydreaming about other guys. He wondered if maybe he shouldn’t go in, if perhaps he was reading too much into things because of April dumping him and Adam cajoling him. Then he remembered he had super-powers.
Chase stepped back from the window and shifted his focus from inside to his reflection. He smoothed his hair, adjusted his jacket, and opened the door.
The behemoth in the white suit slammed into him, covering both of them in hot coffee.