Super?

I Stayed Up Again

A/N: I want to thank those of you who are sticking with me in this story, and especially to those of you who vote for my chapters! It'd also make my day if you could quick comment with your thoughts on my story. I'd love to know your opinions, good or bad. Obviously, it's my first on Wattpad, and the first novel I've written that's only 30% cringeworthy. (We don't talk about the other ones... :P)
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       Eventually I manage to fall back asleep. But I wake screaming, the sheets twisted around my feverish skin like they're trying to strangle me. Dave bursts into my room, face harried. Ollie is right on his heels.
       "What's the matter?" Dave demands. I can't answer, and I don't know why. There's sweat running down my forehead but I'm not hot. I'm in a tank top and shorts. My heart is pounding but there's no reason to be afraid.
       "Did you have a nightmare?" I hate the pity and concern in Ollie's voice. I hate the way they rush to save me. If they knew what I knew, if they knew what I had done, they wouldn't be wanting to save me. They would be wanting to destroy me, like every other single person in this city. Maybe I deserve the fate that life has chosen for me. Or, rather, that Reggie has chosen for me. It would be fitting to die at the hands of a hero, or even a villain. Or anyone, really.
       "Have some water," Dave picks up the old glass of water on top of nightstand, and holds it out to me. When I go to grab it, my hand is trembling. I awkwardly retract my arm, but Dave already sees it. He frowns. "Maya..."
       "I'm fine. Go away," I manage to rasp, wiping the perspiration from my forehead. There's this pit of hatred growing somewhere deep inside me, but it's not directed toward Dave or Ollie or anyone at all beside myself. I hate that a stupid nightmare can make me feel this way.
       "You're not fine, love. It's ok to be--"
       "Go away," I growl. I don't want them looking at me like that. Like I'm vulnerable. Like I'm someone's patient. I don't want to be so fricking helpless anymore. When they don't meet and keep staring at me with that love and that pity I can't take it anymore. I get up instead, brushing past them as I walk out of the bedroom and trudge my way down the stairs, not looking back. Bloodhound told me this morning he would send me information about Dominic over email, so I take a seat at the shared laptop on the breakfast counter and pull up my burner gmail. There's a new email in my inbox, but it's not from Bloodhound. I frown. The address is a jumble of letters and numbers, and I don't recognize it. I pull up the message.
How are you doing? I'm so sorry.
       And that's it. No signature, nothing. Weird. I hesitate before replying.
Who are you?
       I sit back on the stool, and hear footsteps quietly hit the floorboards behind me. I can see Dave's reflection in the laptop screen, so I don't bother turning around.
       "I'm sorry. I know you hate it when we do that, ok? We're just-"
       "Worried, I know. And I'm sorry. I was just kind of freaked out. I'm sick and tired of people treating me like I'm made out of glass," I tell him. I refresh the gmail and to my surprise there's a new reply from the mystery address. Dave sits besides me, trying not to look too curious but failing.
It's Sebastian. I know you probably don't want to talk to me but I need to tell you something.
       "Who's Sebastian?" Dave asks curiously when I inhale sharply. I turn to him, curling my fist under my cheek and mulling over what to say.
       "He works for Reggie. He had this little puppy crush on me. Tried to be my therapist. He's the one who left me after I was tortured," I tell Dave, peering at him sideways. "Kind of rough between us, I guess," I add casually. I turn back to the screen and type out a quick reply, ignoring Dave's snort of incredulousness.
What do you want?
       "Why would he contact you now?" he asks me curiously. I shrug helplessly and click the refresh button repeatedly. If he is contacting me, it must be pretty important.
He's alive. Can't say who. And I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I didn't know that Gia and Reggie would frame you.
       I sit there and stare at those words, which are basically confirming the suspicions I've had all along. Maybe I should be happy to put my mind at ease. But if anything, I only have more questions, mainly about Sebastian and where his loyalties lie. And whether they ever had Dominic in their possession after the car crash.
       "Called it!" Dave smiles. And he did. "Now you have to go and try to find him, right?" He peers at me hopefully as he asks this, like this is a reality show called Reform The Villain or something. Pretty crappy show if you ask me.
       "I didn't go to a pub for a drink last night, Dave." At his confused look, I give him a half-smile. "I've got someone helping us."
       "Not that creepy crow guy?" Dave makes a face. I shake my head and tap my mouse again, debating whether to reply to Sebastian or not.
       "His name is Bloodhound," I say. I face back towards the laptop. A new email has popped up. It's from an address called heyitsbloodhound followed by a string of numbers. Gee, I wonder who that could be from. I click it open.
       "Oh, great. He sounds so much better. Is he like, half wolf or something?" Dave asks sarcastically. "No, wait- don't tell me. I'm sure he'll show up in our yard soon enough."
Check it out :P Lincoln, Idaho. 6:51.
       Of course Bloodhound uses emoji faces. And he's included a link of some sort. I click on it and a loading bar appears at the bottom of the screen.
       "Hey, I'm sorry about that. Seriously. I never meant for all of this crap to affect you guys. I'll move out if it's necessary to keep you two safe," I tell him offhandedly, watching the progress bar. 55%. 72%. What is he sending me, anyway?
       "Maya!" Dave says, surprised. I keep watching the progress bar. It's finally at 100%. A video opens on the screen. It looks like a security feed of a grocery store. It's dated yesterday at 5:42 pm. "Maya, look at me," he orders. I pause the video and look back at him.
       "What?"
       "You know we're not going to kick you out, Maya. We've accepted that you... well... you're you, and that comes with its consequences. And we'll deal with that. Together," he tells me firmly. I nod, my finger itching to press the play button. He sighs and leans back to watch, clearly seeing he's not going to be able to get a response out of me.
       I resume the feed, doing as Bloodhound instructed and skipping forward to 6:51 pm. At first I don't see exactly what Bloodhound wants me to see. But then at 6:51:45, there's a flash of motion near the cash register. A small boy appears seemingly out of nowhere. He looks dirty, tired, and terrified. The cashier startles and says something to him. The boy has dark hair and looks Latino, from what I can tell of the crappy quality of the feed. Dominic. Dominic doesn't reply to the cashier, but starts grabbing things off the shelves. Protein bars. Bags of chips. The cashier shouts and starts to walk over to Dominic, but just as Dominic appears he flashes out of sight, his arms laden with food. The cashier stands there, befuddled. I am confused as well.
       "What the hell did I just watch?" Dave exclaims. I continue to watch, speechless, but nothing happens. The cashier just blinks rapidly and buries his hands in his hair. I pause the feed and stare in bewilderment at the screen.
       "Well, his mom is a superhero," I say finally. Then I start to laugh. "After the car crash, I woke up for a brief moment. I was only half-conscious but I noticed Dominic was missing from the backseat." Dave listens, frowning. "I didn't see any blood, nothing. I thought-" I laugh "-that maybe he had teleported. I passed out again and when I woke up in the syndicate, I thought maybe I had been hallucinating then. Maybe I wasn't crazy after all." I rewind the video to the same moment and watch again and again. "He must be a teleporter... and if my hunch is right, then he must have manifested his power right before the car crashed. Usually one's abilities appear in a moment of severe distress or fear- fun things like that." I lean back and inhale out slowly through my nose. "He's alive! Thank God," I murmur.
       "Smart kid. Even if he is a little thief. But then I suppose he doesn't have any money, so he probably has to steal," Dave muses, taking the fact that this little boy is a teleporter in stride. He glances at me sideways. "Are you... Are you crying?"
       "What? No," I protest, wiping under my eyes. "Allergies," I tell him. "I think... I think I'm going to go to Idaho." Dave blinks rapidly.
       "Um. What? We can't just up and drive to Idaho. That's like an I-don't-know-how-many-hours drive. I mean, I want to save this kid as much as you do. But maybe we should just forward this to the police. Anonymously, if you need to," he says.
       "The police? This police in this city are a joke. All they do is laze around and let superheroes do their jobs for them. And you don't have to come with me. I can go by myself," I insist fervently. He just shakes his head.
       "Maya... The kid's a teleporter. He's probably not even in Idaho anymore. I know that you're willing to do anything to find him but maybe we should... We should tell Dominic's mother he's alive," Dave advises me gently. I give him a deadly look.
       "And how do you suppose we do that?" I cross my arms over my chest. "We're not exactly BFFs, even without the whole she-thinks-I-killed-her-son thing. I can't just go up to her and be like #DominicLives and show her this feed. She would literally dismember me," I say to him, rolling my eyes.
       "But she can fly. And you can't," he points out. "She could easily get to Idaho." He stares at my computer screen, and then frowns. "How did that Bloodhound guy find that anyway? A grocery store in Podunk, Idaho? And you talked to him last night?"
       "His name isn't Bloodhound for nothing," I say to him with a wry smile on my face. Bloodhound certainly is a well-off mercenary. That's because he's good at what he does, even if he is a complete sell-out to anybody with enough money.
       "Yeah, but what can he do? What are his powers? Is he evil?" he inquires. I can't blame him for wondering- even I think Bloodhound is a bit sketchy, if not charming.
       "Nobody knows exactly what it is he can do. He dabbles in hacking and stuff like that, and he's got a genius intellect. But not enough to keep him from fooling around with villains," I say. "He's a mercenary- that's what you call an individual who sells their services to anyone who needs them. Good or bad." I pause. "I mean, you probably knew that already."
       "He sounds like a great guy," Dave deadpans. I nod absentmindedly and glance at the screen out of the corner of my eye. Much to my surprise, I have a new email from Sebastian's address. I open it up.
I wish I didn't have to do this.
       And that's all it says. Dave blinks once, his mouth opening and closing as we both state at that completely bizarre statement. Finally, he speaks.
       "Well, that's not ominous at all." We both look at the screen, dumbfounded. "You have a rather odd assortment of ex-lovers, Maya," he tells me wryly. I punch him lightly in the shoulder, trying to stave off the nerves creeping up in my stomach at Sebastian's words.
       "Sorry to disappoint, Dave, but I don't have any 'ex-lovers.' Just ex-disappointments," I laugh. My eyes find their way back to the screen. "He better not do something rash. Reggie probably wants him to, though. I wish Sebastian wasn't so spineless. It's a little weird when the guy who has a crush on you is simultaneously trying to kill you."
       "I'm glad to say that I've never had to experience that, my friend. But you are not most people," he says, and claps a hand over my shoulder. I roll my eyes at him melodramatically.
       "Thanks, Dave. I really needed that reassurance there. Hey, where's Ollie anyway? You two are like, inseparable. I thought you actually had that surgery where you could be attached at the hip--" I'm interrupted by my own laugh as Dave tries to jokingly shove me off of my stool.
       "I asked him to give you some space. I didn't want to crowd you after that little nightmare incident earlier," he tells me sheepishly. I look away, feeling the amusement slide off of my face.
       "Sorry again. I was being an asshole. That... that kind of messed me up. I'm not used to having nightmares. Just-" I stop, wondering why I'm suddenly so keen in divulging such personal information. I'm not usually so overt with most people. But Dave is not "most people," like he so artfully said of me.
       "Just what?" Dave prompts softly. Of course he can't let it slide. He seizes every opportunity for more information like a starving lion to a carcass.
       "I dunno. It's just I usually have more panic attacks than I do nightmares," I finish awkwardly. Ouch. That was cringeworthy. I'm expecting there to be a long, tension-filled silence where Dave stares at me with gooey pity in his eyes and I proceed to feel immensely uncomfortable, but he's surprisingly cool with it.
       "Well, if you ever need anything, even in the middle of the night-"
       "-you're here for me," I finish for him. "Yeah, yeah. I think I received that message after the six hundredth time." Dave just gives me a smile. And I return the favor.