"Rhinos?" Fury Forge asks, her brow furrowing in a mix of confusion and disbelief. "You've gotta be shitting me. What the hell would they want with zoo animals?"

We're gathered in Devonte's hospital room, a motley crew of heroes and vigilantes all crammed into the too-small space. The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting harsh shadows across everyone's faces as we try to make sense of the intel Devonte nearly died for.

Multiplex leans against the wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he surveys the room with a calculating gaze. I can practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out the Kingdom's angle. "It doesn't make any sense," he mutters, mostly to himself. "Why go through all the trouble of stealing endangered animals? What's the endgame?"

"Mrs. Xenograft," I say quietly, drawing everyone's attention to me. "She's got the power to splice animals together, remember? Create hybrids and chimeras. I bet you anything they're planning on using the rhinos as raw material for some kind of fucked up experiment."

Sundial's eyes widen in horror, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. "Oh my god. That's…that's monstrous. We can't let them get away with this!"

"And we won't," Multiplex says firmly, his jaw set in determination. "But we need to be smart about this. The Kingdom's not going to make a move like this without heavy security and contingency plans out the wazoo. Then, there's transport. I wouldn't be surprised if this was a real operation. We'll need all hands on deck if we want to stop them."

Devonte shifts in his hospital bed, wincing as the movement jostles his injured side. He's been unusually quiet throughout the whole discussion, his gaze distant and unfocused. I can't even imagine what must be going through his head right now - the pain, the trauma, the fear of losing his powers forever.

He clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention to him. "I want in," he says hoarsely, his voice still rough from disuse. "This is personal now. They shot me, they fucked up my ear… I'm not gonna sit on the sidelines while they play Dr. Moreau with innocent animals."

Fury Forge shakes her head, her expression softening with sympathy. "Kid, you're in no shape to be running around playing hero right now. You need to focus on healing up and getting your strength back."

"Fuck that," Devonte spits, his eyes flashing with anger. "I'm not some helpless child who needs to be coddled and protected. I knew the risks when I signed up for this life, same as all of you."

Multiplex pinches the bridge of his nose, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else but here. "Playback, I understand your frustration, but Fury Forge is right. You're benched until further notice. End of discussion."

Devonte opens his mouth to argue - that he's not under Multiplex's jurisdiction anymore, that he's not a Young Defender - but Akilah cuts him off with a sharp look. "Dev, please. Don't make this harder than it needs to be. We're all just trying to look out for you."

He deflates at that, slumping back against his pillows with a defeated sigh. "Fine. Whatever. But I'm not happy about it."

"Noted," Multiplex says dryly before turning his attention back to the rest of us. "Bianca, you know some of the zookeepers, right? I want you to reach out and rope them in. Zoo security, too. They deserve to know what's coming."

Fury Forge nods, already pulling out her phone to start making calls. "On it, boss."

"Moonshot, Compass and I will reach out. We're not the only street team in the city. If this is going to be a real siege, I imagine you big guys are going to need all the help you can get," Sundial says, brushing hair out of her face. "Even if some of them are unlicensed."

"I can't officially condone that," Multiplex says, letting the end of his sentence go unspoken. The unfinished but.

Multiplex's gaze lands on me, his expression hardening. "Sam, I know you and your little group are going to want to get involved in this, but I'm telling you right now - stay out of it. Leave this to the professionals."

I bristle at his tone, my hackles rising in defiance. "With all due respect, sir, we're just as much a part of this city's defense as you are. We have every right to-"

"No, you don't," he cuts me off, his voice brooking no argument. "You're children, Sam. Untrained, barely-licensed children who have done so much - too much - for this city, and who have no business getting mixed up in something this dangerous. No more. I'm putting a stop to it now."

I open my mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes stops me cold. There's a raw, haunted pain there, lurking just beneath the surface of his stern facade. I realize with a start that he's not just being a hardass - he genuinely cares about us, in his own gruff way. The thought of one of us getting hurt again is tearing him up inside.

"Okay," I say softly, swallowing my pride. "We'll stand down. But if you need us, we'll be ready."

He nods, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. "Good. Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

With that, the meeting starts to break up, everyone going their separate ways to start preparing for the coming battle. Sundial and Sandman slip out first, already murmuring to each other about patrol schedules and equipment needs.

Fury Forge lingers for a moment, her hand resting on Devonte's shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Hang in there, kid," she says gruffly, her voice thick with emotion. "We'll get you fixed up with the best implants money can buy, I promise. You'll be back out there kicking ass in no time."

Devonte musters up a weak smile, reaching up to squeeze her hand. "Thanks, FF. I appreciate it. And I'm sorry for snapping earlier. I'm just…frustrated, you know?"

"I know," she says softly, her eyes shining with understanding. "Believe me, I've been there. But trust me when I say that trying to push yourself too hard too fast will only make things worse in the long run. You've gotta give yourself time to heal, both physically and mentally."

He nods, swallowing hard as he looks away. When he speaks, his voice is overloud, as if he's not used to hearing it anymore. Like he's struggling to compensate - he's yelling, even as he's speaking. "Yeah. I'm starting to get that."

Fury Forge gives his shoulder one last comforting pat before heading for the door, pausing only to give me a pointed look. "Remember what Multiplex said, Sam. No heroics. Leave this one to us."

"Yes, ma'am," I lie, trying not to let my irritation show. She quirks a smile, like she knows exactly what I'm thinking, but doesn't call me on it as she slips out into the hallway.

And then it's just me, Akilah, and Devonte left in the too-quiet room, the beeping of his heart monitor the only sound breaking the heavy silence. I sink into the chair beside his bed, suddenly feeling bone-tired and about a hundred years old. It's been a hell of a night.

Akilah clears her throat, her gaze darting between the two of us like she's not sure who to comfort first. "I should go check on the others," she says after a moment, her voice strained. "Make sure everyone's holding up okay."

I nod, mustering up a tired smile. "Yeah, good idea. I'll stay here with Devonte for a bit, keep him company."

She hesitates, looking like she wants to argue, but thinks better of it. "Alright. I'll be back in the morning to relieve you. Try to get some rest in the meantime, yeah?"

"No promises," I joke weakly, earning a small huff of laughter in return. It's not much, but it's something. A reminder that even in the darkest of times, there's still room for a little light.

Akilah slips out with one last backwards glance, leaving Devonte and I alone in the oppressive quiet. He stares down at his hands, picking at the IV taped to the back of his wrist with a distant expression.

"You don't have to babysit me, you know," he says after a long moment, his voice almost too soft to hear. "I'm not going to do anything stupid like try to escape out the window."

I snort, shaking my head fondly. "I know that, dummy. I'm here because I want to be. Because you're my friend and I care about you."

He looks up at that, his eyes searching my face for any hint of pity or deception. Finding none, he relaxes slightly, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. "Yeah, well. Thanks. For being here. It means a lot."

"Anytime," I say softly, reaching out to take his hand in mine. His fingers are cold, the skin dry and papery from the hospital air. But they tighten around mine all the same, clinging to the offered comfort like a lifeline.

We sit like that for a long time, neither of us saying a word as the night ticks on around us. There's a strange sort of peace in the stillness, a sense of being suspended in time, just for a little while. No kingdoms or conspiracies or life-or-death battles looming on the horizon - just two friends, holding onto each other in the darkness.

Eventually, Devonte breaks the silence, his voice thoughtful. "You're not really going to stay out of it, are you?" It's not a question.

I sigh, running my free hand through my tangled, short curls. "What do you think?"

He nods, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah."

"Guess we have that in common," I shoot back, quirking a brow.

He laughs at that, the sound rusty from disuse but genuine all the same. "Fair enough," he says, and I can almost hear the understated, subtextual "promise me you'll be careful" that everyone LOVES telling me. But then it never comes out.

"I can't promise anything," I say, like he said it anyway.

"Good," he says, grinning.

"And I bet you're too stubborn to let something like a blown ear keep you out for long, right?" I ask, more for my own sake than for his.

His smile fades at that, a shadow passing over his face. "I don't know, Sam," he says quietly, his voice heavy with doubt. "Maybe. My left ear is gone if I can't get an implant. Everything's real stuffy in the right one. It's not looking great."

I frown, tightening my grip on his hand. "Hey, none of that. You're one of the strongest, bravest people I know, Devonte. A true hero, through and through. This setback doesn't change that."

"Doesn't it, though?" he asks, trying to put on a brave face, unable to hide a bitter texture to his voice. "What good is a hero who can't even hear his own theme music?"

My heart breaks for him in that moment, seeing the despair and self-loathing etched into every line of his face. I wish I had the words to make it all better, to erase the pain and uncertainty twisting like a knife in his gut. But I know from experience that platitudes and empty reassurances will only make it worse.

So instead, I scoot my chair closer to the bed and wrap my arms around him as best I can, mindful of his injuries. He stiffens for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden contact, but then melts into the embrace, his head coming to rest on my shoulder as he shudders out a shaky breath.

"You're more than your powers, Dev," I murmur into his hair, my own voice thick with emotion. "You're smart and funny and brave and kind. You're a brother to me, to all of us. And nothing, not even this, will ever change that."

He doesn't say anything, but I feel his arms tighten around me in silent gratitude. He doesn't cry, although I wish he would. We stay like that for a long time, just holding each other as the night ticks on, with the steady beep of the monitor in the background.

Eventually, his breathing evens out and his grip on me slackens as exhaustion pulls him under, the toll of the day's events finally catching up to him. I ease him back onto the pillows, careful not to jostle him too much, and tuck the thin hospital blanket around his shoulders.

He looks so young like this, his face slack and unguarded in sleep, the lines of pain and worry smoothed away. It hits me then, just how much he's been through, how much we've all been through, in such a short time. He's barely older than me.

I settle back into my chair, propping my feet up on the edge of the bed as I get as comfortable as I can in the cramped space. The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting strange shadows on the walls, but I barely notice, my gaze fixed on Devonte's sleeping face.

"I've got you," I whisper, more to myself than to him.