A trio of Acolytes – one telekinetic, one speedster and one who could change the size of objects by touching them – boxed up what remained of their things while a contractor trusted by the Legion (who could excrete quick‑setting concrete foam) made sure the apartment roof wasn’t going to collapse. Matt was ninety percent sure they were the same group who had helped his family move last time.
“Thanks guys,” he said as they unloaded and re-scaled the last of the miniaturised boxes into Morningstar’s guest room. The youngest, a tan kid with tri-colour hair who couldn’t have been more than sixteen, flicked him a salute, and Matt resisted the impulsive urge to tip. A part of him wondered if these Acolytes resented being repeatedly used as movers, though none of the tireless three seemed irritated. More likely the young recruits were simply pleased to show off their skills in front of the big cheese. Not that Jane was in the mood to notice young up‑and‑comers at present. Not that she was in the mood to do anything besides veer between self-loathing and rage.
So long, brief flash of independence, Matt sighed. Twas rash to think we could ever be.
“You are never leaving my sight,” Jane ordered, storming back into the bedroom as soon as the movers were gone. She had yet to take off her uniform, though the tips of her cape were caked in what he hoped was dust and mud. “You are staying here, under round the clock guard, or you are under guard by me on mission.”
“At least I’ll see the world,” Matt said mildly, which was the wrong response, because it set aflame the oily rags of fury Jane had been stockpiling all afternoon.
“How could you be so stupid?!” she erupted, throwing up her hands, waves of golden light radiating from her shoulders, “Sending Giselle away?! What were you thinking?!”
“I was thinking it was twenty minutes and I wanted dumplings,” Matt replied, trying hard not to let frustration get the better of him, “I’m sorry. I genuinely didn’t think there would be an assault team waiting to literally beat down our door.”
Jane didn’t seem to be listening. Instead, she paced with increasing rapidity to the point where Matt was worried her empowered boots might burn holes in the floorboards. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve been back quicker. It’s all my fault.” Abruptly she stopped, gripping her head in her hands, borderline manic. “How did they know?” she demanded, and then louder, “How did they know?!”
Matt didn’t have an answer, so Jane resumed pacing.
“We were so careful,” she almost shouted, “So goddamn careful, I don’t understand, I don’t… urgh!” Again she threw up her hands, and had anybody stepped through the door at that moment Matt would have given even odds of Jane simply evaporating them right then and there merely as an outlet for stress.
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Jane spun around to face him. “I’m going back,” she growled. Her eyes kept skipping over where he stood and thin wisps of gold were rising from her ‘E’. “I’m going to go back, I’m going to wait for them, I’m going to stop them.”
“No,” said Matt, his voice suddenly rising, suddenly firm, “Absolutely not.”
“You can’t stop me.”
“No, but I can- We are not ti- playing Pokémon over this!”
“I want them alive,” Jane snarled, “The dead ones. I want to track them down, I want to be waiting, I want to see where they come from and go back through their miserable little jump scars and beat them all within an inch of their lives until they tell me how they knew.”
“And then what?” Matt snapped back, “What if they aren’t the end of it? What if there are no good answers?”
“I AM TRYING TO KEEP YOU ALIVE!” Jane roared and suddenly she was turning on him, lunging right up close in his face, causing Matt to recoil, his heart racing, head pressing back into the wooden wall as Lady Dawn’s golden fury bore down upon him.
“Don’t yell at me,” he murmured, retreating.
Jane’s palms splayed on the wall either side of him, trapping Matt in place. Her face moved so close he could see the individual sparks of light dancing across her irises, the thin spindles of saliva dripping from her teeth. “You are an idiot,” she hissed, “An ungrateful, petulant child who values… Chinese food! Over his own life!”
Abruptly she reeled back, leaving Matt standing there against the wall stock still while she stormed, raking her fingers through her hair. “Why can’t you just listen?” she moaned, “Just for once, why can’t you just follow the rules?”
“It was a mistake!”
“Everything you do is a mistake!” she shouted, throwing up her hands, “No matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, you just keep- ARGH!” She clutched her face with both hands, her palms aglow.
“Right,” replied Matt. His arms trembled, but his words were frozen stone. “My apologies. Screw me for getting lunch. Screw me wanting twenty minutes to myself without somebody watching. Sorry for not wanting to give you absolute control over EVERY ASPECT OF MY LIFE!”
Jane spun and marched towards him, thrusting her finger into his face, her features twisted in pure contempt. “You,” she whispered, the words low and dark and bloody, and for a single, wild moment Matt thought she might actually hit him, “Are the only thing I constantly have to worry about. Day in, day out. You don’t care if you live or die? Fine. But I do. And I am not going to let you die,” she snarled, her voice rising, “Even if it takes me every moment, of every day, for the rest, OF MY GODDAMN LIFE!”
Matt’s eyes narrowed, an inch from Jane’s. “I’m sorry I’m such a burden,” he sneered. Suddenly no longer afraid, he pushed her hand out of his face and shoved free, stomping towards the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jane demanded, her voice rising to a roar, “Get back here!”
“Or else what?” Matt snarled, spinning on his heel, “You going to physically restrain me?”
Jane’s nostrils flared. “I will if I have to!”
“You going to stop me walking around the Legion of Heroes? You going to stop me using the restroom? You going to stop me seeing my family?”
“I…” Jane’s voice suddenly faltered and her thin brows arched suddenly inwards, anger replaced by anxiety, “You can’t… without… it’s not safe!”
“I don’t care,” Matt spat, “Seems like that’s more your problem than mine.” And with that he turned, stepped into the hallway and slammed the door, leaving Jane standing in the centre of the guest room, shining and alone.