{Little Rock, AR | State Capitol}

Batman often thought about the last thing Robin had said to his sister as they parted ways. “I’ll tell everyone how you’re saving the world.” That young woman, made tiny by the stitches and cast, was championing the battle for Earth. Chris had questioned it when Rayne had first came into the room, but then she scanned him over and clocked every movement he made with sharp eyes. That didn’t make a leader, necessarily. But the attitude and confidence fit.

Even the way Rayne gave orders had fit. She’d said, “Lucas.”

“General Callahan,” Lucas answered.

With her shoulders straight and her chin high, Rayne commanded, “Personally see to their progress every day for the next week and report back to me. We’ll go from there.”

Lucas stood at attention. “Sir.”

The Icarus had stayed with them an entire week as promised and helped set up the establishment within the building. Three months later everything ran as smoothly as Chris might expect. Aside from one tiny issue.

“You are not going on a chicken run. End of discussion,” Chris repeated.

“You’re not the boss of me, and it’s just half a day. Come on. I need out of this place for a little while,” Jack argued. His voice carried into the rotunda and echoed off the marble floors and columns.

Teenagers were impossible to deal with.

People walked by in a hurry to be elsewhere, familiar by now with this particular argument. Every two weeks, trucks came and went for rice, soy, and chicken runs. And every two weeks, Jack asked to go.

Not. Happening.

Chris took a deep breath and counted to ten. Calm. He tried for calm. “You can’t go because I can’t go, and yes, your sister made me your boss.”

Jack groaned.

Chris continued, “I know it’s getting frustrating that you can’t go out, but why not go on one of the local supply runs with us? We go out every day.”

Jack ground the words through his teeth, “Because you go on those runs.”

“Excuse me?” Chris asked. His heart rate kicked up by 50BPMs. “I didn’t hear that. Can you repeat it for me?”

He towered over Jack by about five inches, but—as a teenage boy—testosterone poisoning was a genuine thing. That sense of invincibility might get his ass kicked. Jack said, “I’m sick of you! I can’t go in a room without you being in it. I want some fucking space, man.”

Chris was definitely about to kick his ass. He rolled his shoulders back and popped his neck.

He’d started to lay the gravel in his voice when Jack dropped the aggression and muttered, “I miss them. All the time. I miss her, too.” He sat down on the marble steps Chris fought not to push him down. “You’re just a constant reminder of the danger we’re all in. That I’m in.”

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Chris spread his arms wide and even indicated the impressive dome structure above them. “I’m the reminder of that?! You’re living in a goddamn monument! Jeez, kid. Perspective must be hard to come by at your age.”

Jack offered by way of argument, “But I’m not a kid, and I can help! I did a brilliant job three weeks ago with that mission.”

“Yeah. That you didn’t tell me you were on, and it almost blew up in your face until I stepped in to help you,” Chris reminded him. Jack opened his mouth to argue further, and Chris cut him off with a finger in the kid’s face. “Look. I get it. I know you don’t think I do. And I know saying that doesn’t make you believe it, either. But I get it. You did an okay job on your first mission. It would have gone better if you’d consulted me, and I could’ve prepare you for it. Aside from that, unless I’m with you, you need to stay the fuck inside. Remember what happened to Caravan-2 last month?” Jack’s eyes grew wide. “We never found them. We may never find them. I’m getting a weird notion that something big is going down soon. You don’t want to hear this, and god knows I don’t want to tell you, but you are a huge liability to your sister.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Jack asked, his brows down hard, and his face growing red. “That’s why I want to go out and be useful—”

“Go out and get kidnapped and used as bait to trap her,” Chris finished the more logical chain of events. He ticked each one off on his fingers.

Jack groaned and nudged his head against the balustrade. “I feel so worthless.”

Chris sat in silence for a moment as he considered his next words. Granted, being the sibling of a revolutionary leader might be difficult. Especially on the edge of the world. But Jack played a more important role than he realized. Chris asked, “How’s the Story Circle?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jack shifted his eyes away to stare between the balustrade’s columns.

“Yeah, okay. If you don’t want to talk to me, then fine. But don’t lie to me.” Chris stood up and took a step up the stairs when Jack called him back.

“Fine… Fine… We can talk about it.”

Should Chris make Jack squirm? Or sit back down and listen?

Another couple and their kid walked by. The little boy shouted, “Thanks again, Batman.”

The mother added, “Thank you for the trampoline. The kids love it.”

Chris nodded and said, “They have to have something to burn the energy out of them.”

They kept walking, and it occurred to Chris he’d affected more actual good here in the last three months than in his entire military service. With no regulations and stupid politics, they’d made a community out of a shelter.

Part of that was because of Jack. He recommended they reach out to the chicken and rice farms. Now, they managed a steady stream of trading medical supplies and labor in exchange for food. Genius idea. So far, no one went without.

So on certain runs, Chris requested ridiculous things like trampolines and tanks. It just worked out that way.

He sat down beside Jack again and let his long legs sprawl out a few steps. “Out with it.”

Jack frowned. “I just want them to know. Rayne’s fighting for them, you know? It’s only right they learn her name and get to know her.”

“So stories about the epic chocolate milk, bubble-blowing competition really inspire faith in her leadership skills?” Chris tried for sarcasm, but he knew better. Jack was onto something more valuable than he could imagine.

The teenager’s hazel eyes stared right into Chris’s brown ones. “You know that’s not all it is. I share a story like that, and ten other people speak up with similar ones. I may not care for politics, and I can’t fucking read so I hate social studies, but humanizing her does wonders for them. I lay down a few stories about her average everyday normal tendencies, then I throw one in there about the Invasion Day Fight, and BAM! Recipe for… a spark. I’m giving them hope.” The cadence in his voice escalated to passion. His tone carried a weight to it. It was the beginnings of a charismatic leader. “Lucas sends that message once a week with a fresh story, and now everyone sits around waiting for it. They look forward to hearing about her. New people come to this shelter and learning about Rayne is second to food on the priority list. It has to be this way.”

“You think she’ll die.” Probably not the right thing to say, but Chris blurted it out, anyway.

Jack said, “If Rayne does, they’ll know she did it for them.”

It finally dawned on Chris. “And that’s the actual reason you want outside these walls.”

Jack looked away and wet his lips. “More people should know because…” He struggled to say the words.

“Because we don’t have much longer,” Chris finished. And Jack was right.