Fallen Heroes

Chapter Two

Seven hours, six boring high school classes, and one tardy slip later, I stumbled through my front door. I paused immediately, my boots halfway off my feet. Adrenaline was still pulsing through my veins from my morning escapade, making me feel like I was floating, but it didn't escape my notice that the kitchen was on fire.

For the third time that week.

I couldn't see the damage from the hall, but I could smell something burning. I was almost disappointed in myself that I was growing used to it. But there were a lot of things in Morriston that I'd been forced to grow accustomed to. Superheroes, criminal masterminds, house fires. Just to name a few.

A thin stream of smoke snaked around the doorframe separating the kitchen from the living room and the rest of the house. Due to far too many recent experiences, I knew that the smoke was always step number one of the four step process. Step number two, of course, was my brother letting out a string of curses that would make even the most violent supervillain flinch.

"Abby! It's happening again!" Connor's shouts were obscured by the crash of a pot in the sink and the urgent foaming of a fire extinguisher, but just like a movie that I'd seen a hundred times before, I knew exactly which colorful words his next lines would include.

Step number two certainly never disappointed.

Step number three arrived a bit later than scheduled, but I recognized it all the same. The smoke detector in the hall began its shrill, dependable chorus of beeps, signaling it was time to drop my bag and coat on the sofa and intervene.

"What did you burn this time?" I edged cautiously into the kitchen to see Connor battling the flames shooting through a crack in the open oven door. Goop from the fire extinguisher dripped onto the floor, pudding at his feet.

"Grilled cheese," he said. "Along with my dignity."

"You're supposed to leave the oven closed. Fire needs oxygen, so when you open the door the fire is able to grow and—"

"I didn't ask for a science less—oh, duck! It's an ambush! We're under attack!" Connor hit the floor, flailing as more large flames burst from the oven. He army crawled around the cabinets, extinguisher clutched in his hands like a rifle, and opened fire, quelling them immediately. Coughing in a massive cloud of smoke, I hurried to the window and pushed it up, the frigid winter air stinging my skin.

That was always step number four.

Connor wasn't the best cook even when he had his powers. Actually, I was being too generous. I once found a fingernail clipping in a batch of his fudge brownies. But it was naive of me to think that just because he'd lost his ability to fly, just because he was a civilian now, that he would be any more capable of doing "normal people things" than he was before.

"It's grilled cheese, Connor." I approached the oven, peering inside now that the fire was out. "Grilled. You need to put it on top of the stove, not in the oven."

"Yeah, I thought of that, but I really wanted to get the flavor just right so I decided maybe I should char it a little."

"I think you charred it more than a little. And is that—? Connor! You need to take the plastic wrap off the cheese before you heat it!"

"I did!" He looked over my shoulder. "I... oh. I didn't."

"You didn't," I said with a sigh. A tiny wisp of a flame started up again. I grabbed the extinguisher and put it out before taking the pan of soggy grilled cheese and soaking it in the sink. Connor watched silently, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose while trying not to look too guilty. The tips of his blond hair were singed off near his forehead.