Scribbles and Drabbles

Notebook Drabbles 65 - Torch's House

"You're homeless?" Blackwood said, concerned

"Since when do you care?" Prism snorted, stepping back into the shadows. 

"Wait, Rayan," but it was too late. Prism was gone, likely halfway across the city in another dark alley. He closed his eyes and counted to ten. Prism didn't even know about the Spike situation, so he didn't have that excuse for not staying to banter. Mind you, being homeless was not a good sign. On the other hand, if Hero had waited, he would have laughed at the idea of coming home with Blackwood. He was going to need the big guns for this one. There was only one person to call with the big three away. 

[Torch's house for abandoned superpowers] Torch answered sarcastically. He grumbled, but he'd made a name for himself by picking up teen vigilantes and villains alike who needed help. Extending it to the heroes while their own mother bear was away was the natural extension of this.  

"I saw Prism; he's not looking too good."

[Is that stepdad of his beating him again?] Torch asked. Prism got too many bruises for someone who dipped out of fights, if someone swung a little too close to him. He wasn't a coward, but Prism wasn't a physical fighter. It didn't take long to figure out why.

Torch's reputation spread far enough that the hero's mother bear got in touch to discuss issues. Matron was keen to ensure that no one suffered because of things out of their control, regardless of where it had landed them in life. Blackwood respected that. Torch got money out of it. 

"Worse. I think he's kicked our dear Prism out," Blackwood drawled, trying to disguise his concern. 

[That's disappointing. We'll take it from here.]

---

It took a bit of time, but Torch found their homeless hero. Most of the homeless network owed him a favour, but Rayan didn't have connections yet. And he was Rayan on the streets, doing a reasonably decent job keeping his Prism persona away from his current situation. The general feel from the people who'd met him was 'sweet kid', 'not going to last long' and 'too pretty."

The fleshmongers loved a pretty one. Rayan wasn't defenceless, but his powers had limitations that wouldn't save him if someone jumped him at the wrong moment. A limitation that Leo and Mick planned to take advantage of to capture him.

Leo knew Rayan's personality. He'd brave the streets until they got their teeth into him and ripped him apart before being willing to come home with them. Leo was not going to leave an underage brat with powers beyond most people's comprehension alone, which left the old favourite: kidnapping. 

It had worked with Blackwood and Smokescreen. He'd lured the rest of his brood in over time and care, but winter hit hard. If he left it too late, Hero would get ill or worse. 

Step one, locate Hero. Step two, ensure he couldn't use his powers. Step three, bring him home. These simple steps were much easier than what he'd have to do next. Step one was complete, he and Mick found Rayan. 

Rayan slept hard in a box behind a dumpster, small enough to hide behind there without any obvious signs to the casual observer. Leo sometimes forgot how compact Rayan was. It made him seem a lot younger. Mick shared his look of displeasure and got the light set up, moving as quietly as possible. Rayan didn't stir, but the bags under his eyes were deep and dark. The poor guy was exhausted.

Leo crouched next to Rayan's feet and waited for Mick's signal. Once Rayan was safe, he was going to destroy the teen's stepdad. 

Mick signalled. They were good to go.

He shook Rayan's ankle. Rayan curled up before kicking out. Leo caught his ankle and held firm, refusing to let go, and he tried to get the stranger off him.