Tuesday Night, by Harper Kingsley – Chapter Eleven (1/2) [Kanon, superhero, Sunfire/Teen Steel, mm]

Title: Tuesday Night
Author: Harper Kingsley
Setting: Kanon-verse
Genre: superhero, mm

Because Chapter Eleven is 10,000 words, it has been split into two parts. Thank you.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Evan agreed to be Henry’s nanny and Tony felt some of his overprotective worry ease. If someone decided to come after Henry they would only have a few seconds to be surprised before they were vaporized by one of the world’s strongest pyrokinetics. Which meant Tony felt ready to go back to work, secure with the knowledge that Evan was keeping Henry safe.

It was still hard that first week, leaving Henry behind. He’d grown used to taking care of the little guy. Saying goodbye even for the day felt horrible. But at least he knew he could trust Evan. The man had nearly been his father-in-law after all.

Once he’d gone on his first patrol since Henry’s arrival, Tony could admit that he’d missed it. From the feel of the uniform against his skin to the thrill of facing down bad guys, he’d missed it all. The only thing he hadn’t missed was the paperwork–that he could have happily done without.

Being back on duty wasn’t without some stress. He was on call, but his schedule had been worked so he went home at night rather than being in the Demi Lair 24/7. There was still some tension over the whole slept with Solar/had a baby with Solar/ran Solar and Pulsar out of the group awkward drama. And then there were the two new members, WarSong and Saint Kloude. Adding new members to any group always changed the dynamics and he hadn’t had a chance to fully adapt to the changes when there was the first all hands on deck call.

“What’s happening?” Tony pulled on his body armor and his knuckle busters. Just because he was near impervious when powered up didn’t mean he went on duty in a tee shirt and a pair of jeans. He liked the added protection of armor and some offensive weaponry.

Seth had finished suiting up and was industriously loading both of their guns with lethal rounds. It wasn’t an optimistic sight for whatever they were facing.

“No clue, though it’s an All Call. We’re being assigned as backup for the League,” Seth said.

“Shit.” The last All Call had involved the 10-foot-tall Dogbryan rampaging through Midtown, which was bad enough, except he’d been working with the Dark Magician. Tony had spent two hours transformed into a chicken, which had resulted in a week of cock jokes once he’d been turned back.

Tony hurriedly finished dressing, then accepted his guns. He checked them before snapping them in their thigh holsters, but it was more by rote than anything else. He trusted Seth with his life.

“Here.” Seth held out the heavy-duty helm Tony usually eschewed. “Wouldn’t want to lose an eye.”

“Thanks.” The helm was actually a helmet that fit over Tony’s head and latched to the near-invisible clamps attached to his armored neck protector. Heavy and black with no visible eye slit, the inside padding conformed to the shape of his face and the plastisteel was one way transparent–he could look out, but no one could look in.

“I feel like a big dildo,” he said, fighting a shudder at the eerie reverberations. He hated the helm.

Seth laughed and put on his own white helm. He was also wearing full battle dress, the armor adding bulk to his shoulders and chest. “At least you’re not the only one all dressed up. I felt like a tool when I took on Parakeith.”

Tony winced. Seth had won the battle of course, but he’d also had to spend a month in the infirmary. He wondered if Seth still had pins in his left leg or if they’d all been removed. The armor had been the only thing that saved the leg–healers could repair most anything as long as they had something to work with. After that point there was only the cybernetics department at Lucifer Labs.

Tony checked himself over in the mirror, running through his mental checklist. “I’m ready,” he said.

Seth slapped him on the shoulder. He didn’t feel it through the armor. “Let’s go find out what’s threatening the Earth today. I’m kind of hoping for zombies.”

“Bite your tongue.” Tony held the locker room door open for him, then they walked down the hallways side-by-side.

An All Call meant massive amounts of danger and failure not being an option. Maybe Tony should have been scared, but mostly he was excited. With Seth at his side, geared up as Sunfire and looking ready to kick some ass, Tony thought there wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

They were the heroes of this story, and the heroes always won.

*
Four hours later, Tony wasn’t so confident. The briefing had taken most of the wind out of his sails and he was seriously wondering if any of them were going to make it. Not that he would ever think to back out.

He had a duty to perform even if it killed him. Countless lives were depending on him and the fifty other superheroes crammed aboard the three re-purposed and armor plated school buses. No one was allowed to fly, not if it gave the Zarplaxian Horde a chance to adapt to their defenses.

He stared out the bus window and was glad of Seth’s presence on the bench seat beside him. Tony’s expression was grim and he forced down his fear, his gauntlets clenching against his helm where it rested on his lap. He hated breathing in the thing and would put it back on when they were closer to the mark.

“You doing okay?”

Tony glanced at Seth. “Sure, why not? We’re only facing the real life equivalent of the Borg. Why would I be worried?”

“I promise that I’ll rescue you if you get assimilated,” Seth said.

“Thanks.” One corner of Tony’s mouth lifted. “Just don’t let me go all Locutus and we’ll be all right.”

“Nerd,” Seth said fondly. He’d taken his own helm off and was sipping from a juice box, his right leg jiggling. There was no other sign of nerves about him, and just seeing him let Tony pretend that everything was going to be all right. None of his people were going to die today.

He glanced over his shoulder at where Powergirl was giving a last pep talk to the rookies with Queen Midnight adding her own words of advice here and there. Saint Kloude looked like he was about to piss himself, but WarSong was grimly determined. Tony hoped they didn’t die.

He twitched when Seth leaned against him, resting his head on his shoulder. Tony thought about making a comment, then swallowed it back down. He wrapped his arm around Seth and pulled him closer.

Minutes passed and he could feel Seth start to sag then jerk himself awake.

“Take a nap. I’ll wake you when we’re there,” he said gruffly.

“What about you?” Seth asked.

“Please. You know I can’t sleep before a mission. I get too excited.” He brushed his gauntleted hand against Seth’s ear. “Go to sleep.”

“Okay.”

Tony took Seth’s helm and rested it on the floor between his feet. He stared out the window and listened to Seth breathe against his shoulder. It was a soothing sound, not quite a snore.

He was glad Evan had Henry. No matter what happened, Henry would be all right–Evan would kill anyone that got too close. So even if they lost today’s battle–which the precogs only gave them a 40% chance of winning–Evan would take Henry far away and join whatever resistance managed to form itself.

Needing the comfort, Tony hummed softly. A tuneless melody that eventually became an old lullaby his grandmother used to sing to him. He couldn’t remember her face, but he could still feel her love, and he wrapped it tight around himself as they rode into battle.

Not everyone was going to survive today. But he promised himself that he would keep Seth safe. It wasn’t going to be like the day Ashley died, alone and miserable, out of view of everyone as Tony let himself be distracted and forgot to watch her back.

I’ve got you, he thought. And it felt right to press a kiss against the top of Seth’s head, sealing the deal. I’ve got you.

---

There had been a time when Seth never would have thought he could sleep before a battle, but experience had trained him to rest when he could. It was better than brooding about what was going to happen. Plus he appreciated being well-rested before a fight.

Tony had kept his word and woken him before they’d entered Star City, which was eerily deserted.

“Where are all the people?” someone loudly wondered.

“They’re being turned into alien killing machines. Weren’t you listening during the briefing?” someone else replied to a round of nervous laughter.

Seth put his helm on and made sure it was thoroughly clamped down.

The Zarplaxians were able to control their victims through robotic spiders that injected nanobots in through the base of the skull. From the captured videos it had looked excruciating, the victims writhing and screaming, blood coming from their eyes, ears, noses, and mouths until they were thoroughly infested. Then they became drones to the Zarplaxian Hive Mind located half a galaxy away.

Their mission today was to keep the Zarplaxian scouts from gaining a foothold on Earth. The Teen Demis and other supergroups were to contain the situation in Star City while a second group was working on taking out the subspace ansible and destroying the connection to the Hive.

If things went well, the victims would be freed from Hive control and there would be time to clear the nanos from their bloodstreams. If things went bad, they’d be facing a city full of rampaging people under the control of a remorseless ubermind able to infect more drones while building what one precog had termed “a giant space toilet” that was able to bring in Warriors from the Zarplaxian homeworld. All the precogs agreed that letting even one Warrior Caste through would spell disaster for Earth. Evidently a Warrior was three hundred tons of world devastating power with the equivalent of a micro-singularity in its chest capable of swallowing cities whole.

The Zarplaxian Horde was not looking to add humanity to its empire. They were creating drones for the sole purpose of using them to build the giant machine through which they traveled. Then the Warriors would wipe away all animal life and the colonists would come through and take over their new home.

It seemed the Zarplaxians only used space travel to launch their drone ships–economy car-sized spheres loaded with nano spiders and the ansible components. For the Zarplaxians themselves, their species was so vast in size that humans were like ants. As their population grew, they needed more and more planets to contain them, and their Empire was expanding outward, swallowing countless worlds.

Seth drew in a deep breath as the bus rumbled to a stop in a grocery store parking lot. The other two buses in their group had already separated to their own target locations, and he knew there was another twelve buses loaded with superheroes out there, though he didn’t know where. Command hadn’t wanted anyone on the ground to know the full troop locations and plans because there was a real risk that any one of them could be infected. They were all considered expendable.

“All right, haul your asses off the bus and make way on foot to your target locations. Maintain radio silence and good luck,” Kid Nitro said, pulling the lever that opened the doors. He didn’t wait for a response, zipping down the steps and away in a blur that quickly disappeared. He had his own mission to perform, as did they.

Seth shuffled off the bus and met up with the other Teen Demis. Their group would stick together, though after the ansible went down they were supposed to separate into pairs–Seth had already claimed Tony as his partner.

Other groups had already gathered their gear and were trooping off. Seth saw Captain Ferocious from the Young Bloods starting his guys moving off at a trot, Pyremaker missing from their team. Like the psionics, the pyrokinetics were being kept in reserve. If the situation got bad, the order was for the pyros to torch everything in the city, including their own teammates.

Seth wasn’t too concerned for himself, but Queen Midnight was the only other flame resistant member of the Teen Demis. Everyone else would go up like a roman candle, and anyone trying to fly away would be shot down by air support.

Command was not risking any Zarplaxian drones escaping. They all knew what was at stake here. They all knew their own people would put them down for the greater good. It was sobering, but there was no room for failure.

“All right, guys, let’s get moving,” Powergirl said, her voice echoing eerily through her helm. “We’ve got about a million drones between us and our objective.”

It felt vaguely disrespectful to think of them as drones, but there needed to be some disassociation. Otherwise there was a real concern that one of them might hesitate at the wrong moment, caught up in the realization that they were killing people–mothers and fathers, young children with their whole lives spread out before them–and not saving the world.

It was unfortunate, but the citizens of Star City had already been written off by the CMPF and the World Council. What were the lives of a few million when compared to all of humanity? It sucked, but they were all marked expendable, and it was something that needed to be remembered when they confronted a bunch of “drones.”

Seth glanced at the rookies. It was impossible to read expressions with their helms on, but he figured they had to be scared. It sucked that their first All Call involved an apocalypse scenario, but that was the luck of the draw. He hoped they survived.

“Let’s go,” Powergirl said, not even bothering to try for a cheery pep talk. She sounded grimly determined and her shoulders were square as she set off across the parking lot.

They followed after her. They had twelve miles to go and they were making them on foot, their Command assigned packs bulging with gear.
Their mission was to reach the Alcott building and lay the charges for the experimental ELF bomb. The satellite dish on the roof was supposed to boost the signal somehow, though Seth hadn’t understood the specifics.

All he knew was they were laying the charges, and if things went well, all unshielded humans–drone or not–would be knocked unconscious for up to 26-hours. It would cause some kind of biological system reboot.

The whole thing felt really sci-fi to him, but considering they were fighting aliens he was willing to accept the idea as long as it worked. He just hoped the transmitters they’d been given really would shield them from the blast. It would suck to get knocked out by their own tech.

“Keep an eye out for flyers,” Powergirl warned.

Queen Midnight had her gauss rifle ready in her hands. “On it.”

From the briefing they knew Star City had nearly a hundred thousand metahumans of varying ability levels. After Behemoth’s rampage most of the active alphas had been wiped out, but things were still dangerous. Some flying kid strapped to a bomb could still ruin the plan.

Seth kept near Tony and tried not to think of the last time he’d walked these streets. Sure, it had happened on the other side of town, but he didn’t think he’d ever forget the screaming agony as his leg splintered in the grip of one meaty hand, his hip dislocating with a squelching-pop.

“God, I hate this city,” he muttered.

Tony bumped his shoulder, his helm still facing forward as he watched the road ahead. “We got this. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

It was dumb to feel so relieved, considering what they were headed into, but having Tony close soothed him. It was hard to be afraid when Tony was nearby.

He remained watchful and wary as they followed Powergirl’s lead. Tony watched the left while he had the right, and between the two of them they guarded the rear from attack. The newbies were kept toward the middle of the group where they could be somewhat protected.

There was something eerie about walking down the empty streets of a once bustling metropolis. It might have been more soothing to know the people were all dead, at least then there wouldn’t have to be so much wondering about where they were, what they were doing. Millions of people didn’t just disappear. Not when they were being controlled by an alien hive-mind.

“I’ve got movement in the high rise on our nine,” Tony said, voice low even with their secured coms. “Window on the fourteenth floor.”

“I see it,” Queen Midnight said. “There were reports of unaltered humans hiding out. Might be one of them.”

“We can’t risk it. WarSong, you’re up,” Powergirl said. “Take out the target with a minimum of fuss and meet us on the corner of that peach building. I’m marking it on your map. Follow the caret.”

“Yessir.” WarSong drifted to the edge of the group and into the shadow of the building. Their watcher wouldn’t be able to see her from that angle.

The Teen Demis moved on, Queen Midnight’s shadows a near invisible pressure against their body armor. She’d be able to block a few armor piercing rounds, enough that they’d have a chance to prepare for incoming.

“Did she call me sir?” Powergirl asked.

“Yessir,” Seth said and there was a brief chuckle in response. They were all wound tight, waiting for a mass of mind-controlled zombies to fall on them.

“I’m too old for this shit,” Powergirl said. “Stay frosty, people. Hive-mind means if that was a hostile then they already know we’re here.”

They made their way to the peach colored building, which turned out to be more orangeish when they got close. Seth kept an eye on his side, tensed to catch any motion.

He hoped it was an unaltered civilian that had been watching them. Then wondered what kind of monster he had to be that he was wishing WarSong was killing some poor regular shmoe. They just couldn’t risk their op being busted–all witnesses needed to be handled, quietly and surgically.

Seth pushed any guilt away and focused on the Now. He’d have time for guilt and self-recriminations later, when the world wasn’t invaded by a hostile alien force.

He kept alert, eyes scanning his section. Tony was a spot of warm presence on his left, a green-for-friendly blob on the map located in the corner of his helm’s HUD.

He pushed away everything but the mission and firmly gripped his gauss rifle, ready to fire at any sign of hostiles. He was ready.

---

Tony was sweating into his jock. Every time there was a hint of serious danger, his balls decided to sweat until he was a drippy mess between the legs. Moisture wicking underwear kept him from swimming in his own fear, but he could tell the material lining his cup had worn thin. It was a minor irritation, but he had to force himself not to be distracted.

Getting his team killed because he had sweaty balls would not go over well with Overwatch. Plus the guilt would probably send him right over the edge.

Tony kept his eyes sharp and ignored the discomfort in his pants. “She’s taking a while,” he said.

They’d been waiting near to fifteen slow crawling minutes. WarSong should have been in and out in less than ten. Even spread out under the overhang with parked cars to hopefully conceal them, they were dangerously exposed. The longer they spent in one place the more vulnerable they were to detection.

Tony shifted in his crouch, trying to give his crotch some room to breathe. The sweat was making him itch and he gritted his teeth at the sensation. It was like fire ants infesting his balls, little nips that were getting worse and worse. Sweat trickled down the side of his face.

“I feel uncomfortable saying this,” Seth sounded strained, “but I feel like there’s ants in my pants. My, uh, my balls feel like they’re getting, uh. It’s very uncomfortable.”

“You too?” Queen Midnight breathed. “Oh shit, I think we’ve been made.”

With her pronouncement, it suddenly felt as though someone had literally set Tony’s crotch on fire. With a propane torch.

His knees hit the pavement and he hunched over the agony in his groin. It was not just his balls anymore, but his dick and deep up into his pelvis. His nerves were screaming out and there was nothing he could do to stop the pain.

Tears flooded his eyes and he gritted his teeth hard enough to hear his molars grate together. He hunched over himself, his armor keeping him from clutching his tormented genitals.

“Fu-fuck,” he groaned.

Dimly he heard shouts and crashes, but it wasn’t until the pain cut out that he knew the world around him still existed. Strangely distorted with bright splashes of color and sound that echoed through his skull, but still there.

He was grabbed by the shoulders and pulled away in time to watch a mid-sized car cartwheel through the spot where he’d been kneeling. He blinked at the strangeness of everything and let himself be pulled along in a stumbling run, Seth’s hand gripping his hand hard enough that he could feel it through his gloves. It was an anchor keeping him from slipping away.

“Come on.”

Tony followed Seth, counting on him to lead him to safety. He was too out of it to trust himself.

It was a whirl of alleyways and long stretches of street, of using cars and buildings for cover as they fled as fast as they could on foot. Tony could feel his heart thudding in his chest and his panting breaths made his helm hot and moist inside. All he knew was that they were running from the enemy and he was glad the sharp pain had stopped. His dick and balls still ached, though it was a dull echo.

Finally Seth seemed to think they’d thrown off pursuit. He shoved Tony into a narrow alley between two brick buildings and pulled him down into an exterior stairwell.

Tony panted for breath, resting his head against Seth’s back. He tried to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. His brain felt scrambled and words were too hard to get out.

“I think we’re good.” Seth peered down the alley toward the street, his back a tense line. “We might be good.”

Tony shuddered and breathed and wanted to take his helm off except that probably wasn’t a good idea. At the moment he couldn’t have said why it would be bad, he was just trusting his training.

“Are you all right?” Seth turned around, his hands holding Tony’s shoulders. He sounded concerned, though it was impossible to read his expression through the blank smoothness of his helm. “Tony? Teen Steel, respond!”

It was the snap of command that had Tony stiffening. His mouth opened and moved, though it took several tries to get sensible words out. “I… I’m all right.”

Seth’s sigh of relief seemed weirdly close, intimate, through the coms. “Thank God, I don’t think I could handle any of this alone.”

“Where’s…” Tony cleared his throat. “Where’s the team?”

“I don’t know. We scattered in different directions. We have to figure they’ve all been compromised. We’re alone. Mission parameters have changed.”

Command had figured something like this could happen. Until the threat was taken out and the All Clear was sounded, they would be a two-man group and they weren’t to trust anyone, not even their own teammates.

“Shit,” Tony muttered. He was glad he wasn’t alone, but it was going to be tough completing the mission with just the two of them. Tough, but not impossible.

“We can do this,” Seth said.

“Yeah.” Tony tried to keep the doubt out of his voice, knowing they didn’t have any other choice. The Earth was at risk and duty didn’t stop just because the team had been split up and his balls hurt. “We can do this.”

Seth gripped his shoulders tight and leaned forward to clunk their helms together softly. “We can do this. We’ll stay here about half an hour and rest up, then we’ll fulfill our secondary objective. We got this.”

“Yeah.” Tony wanted to believe. “We got this.”

---

Whatever that attack had been, it had hit Tony hard. Enough to put the guy’s body into shock, at least that’s what Seth figured was going on.
In the scuffle, Seth had caught a glimpse of their attacker before the man’s face had exploded into vapor under the high-powered fire of his gauss rifle. It had been the minor supervillain known as Hotfoot. He had the ability to manipulate the nerves of his victims, bringing a burning sensation that could focus on a group of people with one target taking the brunt of his focus. It looked like Tony had been his main target.

Seth looked toward Tony and saw that he’d folded himself into the corner against the door. His knees were drawn up against his chest and his head was tilted sideways, the side of his helm pressed against the cement. He looked like he’d be uncomfortable, but Seth didn’t want to bother him when they were going to be moving out in a few minutes.

He wished that he could see Tony’s face, but they weren’t to remove their helms during the mission. Not when the enemy could take control of a host within a few seconds of tapping a spinal node. Safety had to come first, even if Seth was worried about Tony.

Hotfoot didn’t give his victims permanent nerve damage, but Seth had seen the Bingo Books. Hotfoot was a smalltime villain with an ability that could cause psychosomatic pain in the people he targeted. He’d only used his powers on a small scale, not wanting to end up on some cape’s hit list, but there had been notes in the file speculating that a concentrated enough dose of his metability could create a permanent disability in his targets.

It would be psychological in nature, but Tony could spend the rest of his life suffering from the symptoms of nerve damage, including recurring flareups of agonizing pain.

Seth’s chronometer vibrated on his wrist before he turned off the alarm. It was time to move out. They had a mission to complete.

He laid a hand on Tony’s shoulder, not squeezing and definitely not shaking. He didn’t need to trigger an aggressive response. “Tony, it’s Seth. Time to wake up.”

There was a discontented groan through the coms and Tony’s helm covered head shifted. “I’m awake.”

“Good. We’ve got work to do. What’s your status?”

Seth moved out of the way as Tony climbed to his knees, his arms and head rotating as he worked the kinks out. “I feel like I’ve been run over, but I’m ready.”

“All right. I’ll hold you to that.” Seth didn’t have a choice. This was an all-hands on deck op and he wasn’t looking to complete the mission alone. “We move out in five.”

“Yes, sir.” There wasn’t a trace of mockery in Tony’s voice. He’d put his game face on.

Seth pushed all the worry and affection away from his mind and pulled the mission to the forefront. There was no time for sentimentality or affection. They had a job to do, and in the end they were both expendable. Even if he loved Tony.

“Let’s get out of here. I’m marking the secondary target on the map and denoting it Primary Objective. If we get separated, you go after your backup target and you don’t hesitate. Understood?”

“Understood.”

Just as Seth didn’t know what Tony’s fallback target was, Tony didn’t know what Seth’s was. If they were lucky, neither one of them would have to activate their solo missions–the Suicide Plans. Because if Seth was forced to switch his powers to max and burn his way through the central mass of enemy territory, there wasn’t going to be anything left of him–win, lose, or fail.

Being able to burn hotter than the sun was an awesome power in theory. But there came a point when his own body couldn’t protect him from the damage anymore. He’d burn like a road flare–fierce, bright, and hot enough that there’d be nothing left inside, just a burnt out husk.

Given his choice, he’d rather stay as far away from Objective Three as possible. And he didn’t want to even think about what Tony’s solo mission would entail.

It doesn’t matter, he thought. We have our PO and we’re not going to let anything stop us. We will complete the mission.

He looked down the alley. “It’s clear. Let’s go.”

They’d wrapped their packs with dull black duct tape, which meant there wasn’t a single jangle as they moved out. Seth kept an eye toward Tony for a few steps, but the other man seemed all right. There was no stiffness in his stride at least and he didn’t voice a complaint.

Seth faced forward. The mission was the priority.

/CHAPTER (1/2)

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