kent

bruce banner

There is static in Carly’s mind. It is broken and disorienting and loud. It is not the innocent white noise crackling through a radio. Rather, it fogs her mind and seems to blur her vision. Because it’s not just the pop of static. There’s the screaming that wrenches her heart from its place and plunges knives into her stomach. Someone nearby is in need of saving.

But for now, the pain becomes her pain, and she nearly makes a death spiral from the sky. Her brain is so thick and fuzzy with the screams and static that she can barely stay aloft. By the time she reaches the building where she and Dynamo usually meet, the screams have made her dizzy enough that she staggers when her feet hit the floor.

That is when she notices Dynamo curled on the floor in the fetal position. Her gut drops further, as she realizes something is terribly wrong. Carly looks around, senses heightened, but she doesn’t spot any immediate danger. Scared and curious, she approaches the fallen hero.

An echo resounds as she makes her way across the tiled floor. She walks slowly and deliberately, the world still tilting under her, because of the screaming. And then suddenly she’s not as disoriented. The screaming in her head is gone, as if it has managed to rocket out of her brain and into the air. Because that’s where the screaming is now. The screaming is around her, not through the telepathic message Dynamo had sent her. Somehow, above his screams, he has heard her approach.

Carly is beyond startled and her heart rate kicks up, wondering what on earth has happened. She doesn’t notice any obvious abrasions or inflictions upon his skin. He screams again, his glass eyes shattered, a kaleidoscope of tears messing across his golden mask. His hands are clenched in fists so tightly that droplets of blood appear in his palms. And then his hands are on his head, pulling at the ends of his blonde hair.

“Dynamo?” The noise drops, turning guttural. Silence only ensues when he needs to come up for air. The start of each new sound makes Carly’s heart crumble. Then, Carly realizes that she is looking for pain in all the wrong places.

“Daniel. What happened?”  She says this as gently as possible. The moonlight catches on the oceans in his eyes. They leak onto his mask, and Daniel attempts to wipe his vision clean, but his fingers rub uncomfortably on the mask. He screams again, wrenching the mask from his face. He throws it hard at the wall. It hits with a smack, shattering and falling to the floor as he has.

He sits up suddenly, and pushes himself onto his knees. His hands are open now, and they slam onto the floor. Again and again, as if he wants to break through the floor and topple the entire skyscraper.

Carly grabs onto his right arm with both her hands, “Whoa. Okay.” She doesn’t tell him to calm down, because in his current mental state, calm doesn’t seem like a possibility.

Despite his superstrength, her touch slows him, only because he breaks further. His head falls onto her shoulder and his arms lay limp. Carly stays still, letting his tears dribble onto her t-shirt. The screaming has dissolved into heart wrenching sobs, and Carly pats his back, hoping that the contact will give him some reassurance.

She doesn’t make him talk, assuming that he will eventually. Minutes pass, his cries drenching her shirt. The emotion is magnified under the moon. Carly puts his arms around him, trying to hug the fragments back together. His crying doesn’t appear to let up, but Daniel doesn’t push her off either. Maybe because he doesn’t have the energy to, or maybe because it has helped some.

He shifts in her arms, and her grip loosens slightly. But she doesn’t want to end the hug until the tears have stopped, even if it lasts through the night and into tomorrow. Even if he cried until his deathbed, she wouldn’t want to let go.