Chapter Text
Chargebolt stifles a yawn, staring blankly into nothing. There’s the sound of some heroes talking in the background, probably conversing about what’s been going on in Mycelius lately. It’s hard to focus on what they’re saying, his mind is still stuck on the day at the bakery. It was such a nice day, it felt like he could finally relax for once. He thinks of the smiling face that greeted him, her golden hair and blue eyes. He hopes she’s gotten some customers since he visited, he thinks she deserves it. Even if their first interaction was a bit... rough, to say the least.
He almost thinks of revisiting the bakery, but is harshly reminded, by himself, that he doesn’t have the time. He only had time to visit since he had a day off. But what will he do when work is over?
Well, he’ll head home. After that, he honestly doesn’t do much. When you’re a hero you’re always busy, so when you do have the time to relax, you take it. So he’ll probably sleep. Maybe look through a couple things, check if he needs to buy any groceries. Now, he doesn’t want to sound lazy, and he does have a schedule, but he somehow keeps failing at doing it right. Like… Like his body forces him to rest, instead of training… Sometimes.
Okay, maybe he is lazy, but not by a large amount!
It’s not like he doesn’t want to do the things he definitely should do, maybe if he didn’t have to do so much work he wouldn’t rest as much. Work as a hero is admittedly hard, but it’s worth it. The smiles of the civilians he helps and the laughter of them living care-free, it’s something that makes his heart swell with joy. Knowing that they’re safe in Mycelius. Well, as safe as they can be with the possible threat of roaming villains. He hopes for a day where the never-ending battle stops, it’s a motivator for him, but he knows there’ll always be someone to stop the peace.
His thought process is stopped, however, as his attention snaps back to the meeting room by the mention of his hero name.
“Chargebolt and Road Runner, our two very best heroes in this city, is a prime example of how a hero should be. Brave, daring, selfless and honest.” Stimmo announces, standing in the front of the meeting room.
His praise to the two makes some heroes scowl, others grumbling angrily. Then there’s some who don’t even react, looking like they’re barely present at the meeting. Chargebolt doesn’t take mind of this, just ignoring them as he feels slightly disappointed about how heroes are supposed to stand together, not compete with each other.
“Now, Chargebolt, what’s your opinion on the proposition?” Stimmo smiles, all eyes directing themselves onto Chargebolt.
He internally panics, hoping no one notices his darting eyes around the room for any clues on what they were talking about. Eventually he catches sight of the whiteboard behind the mayor with writing on it. “ Resolving crime in Mycelius.” it says, written with a bright red whiteboard marker.
Chargebolt takes a deep breath, hoping the pause wasn’t too long. “Recently, supervillain attacks have been more frequently reported. I suspect that this means they’re up to something, perhaps planning something big. I think we should pay more attention to the big crime, rather than vigilantes or small criminals. If the supervillains make a really big attack and we’re not prepared to defend the city, I’m afraid of what might come of Mycelius.” He concludes, letting out the thoughts that have been ringing around in his head for a couple of days.
Stimmo’s smile twitches for a second, going unnoticed by Chargebolt.
“Well, Chargebolt, while your idea might seem like it could be true, there’s a possibility it’s not and you’re just overreacting. Even if it were to be fact, we’re understaffed and simply not qualified for that kind of work.” Stimmo immediately puts down Chargebolt’s idea, something that makes Road Runner smile.
Chargebolt blinks, confused. What does the mayor mean that they’re understaffed and unqualified? There’s at least 10 good heroes in this very meeting room and even more out on patrol or somewhere else, why does everyone always ignore the bigger issues?
“Mayor, if I may speak my mind,” Road Runner speaks up, waiting for permission to continue until Stimmo nods, which he does. “Perhaps we should focus on vigilantes more. If Chargebolt is correct and the supervillains are planning something big we should stop, it’d be easier to do that if the vigilantes are gone and dealt with. Less crime, y’know.”
“Good idea, Road Runner! A plan that works for us all, and I’m sure we all agree, right?” Stimmo doesn’t wait for anyone to answer. “Thank you for the suggestion, Road Runner.” The mayor praises the hero.
Talk about favoritism , Chargebolt scoffs in his head as Road Runner flashes him this winning and proud look.
“Hey, while we’re on the subject of work, we should talk about how we deserve to be paid more.” A hero brings up, looking expectantly at the mayor.
“Oh, of course you’d want more money.” A heroine lashes out at the hero, glaring.
“What’s that supposed to mean?! You’re the one spending half your time gold-digging and the other posing!” The hero insults the heroine back.
The heroine squawks. “How dare-”
An argument quickly starts up, others joining in. Chargebolt quickly tunes it out, wanting to focus on something else, this is only one out of many other arguments here, after all.
-
Not long after, it’s the end of the meeting and everyone grabs their things to leave as soon as possible. Chargebolt feels his eyes narrow in anger, because as he watches the other heroes rush out of the room, he knows it’s not to hurry on patrol, but just because they can’t even be bothered to be in a meeting.
Chargebolt is the second last to leave, taking more time to gather up his things. As he heads out the room, with a glance back, he notices that Road Runner has stayed behind in the meeting room with Mayor Stimmo.
As the door closes behind him, he doesn’t walk away. No, in fact, he stays behind the door, listening in on the conversation that’s started up inside the meeting room. Maybe it’s a good thing the other heroes rushed away, now he won’t get caught.
“-the money. Hand it over.” A muffled, masculine voice sounds, presumably Road Runner’s. He sounds impatient.
There’s the harsh sound of dollars being shoved in the top two hero’s hands. “There, now get out.” Stimmo grumbles, audibly seething.
There’s the sound of footsteps coming closer towards the door Chargebolt is leaning against and he quickly rushes away, deciding now would be a good time to go on his morning patrol.
——————————
Chargebolt sighs, opening the gate to his front-garden. He’s slumping a bit, exhaustion from a couple chases at work today setting in. As he walks towards his house he rolls his shoulders back a bit, working out some stiff muscles.
He unlocks and opens the door, walking inside and turning some lights on. Chargebolt takes a deep breath, getting ready to relax after his long day at work. He gets out of his hero costume, taking on some comfy casual wear instead.
And so, he’s no longer the number one hero Chargebolt, he’s the civilian Jerry.
It didn’t take long to change and he decided to go around the house, look for things he could be missing or maybe be reminded to do something by an item lying around.
As he enters the living room, he’s stopped by a picture on the coffee table, his expression softening.
It’s a photo of him and his sisters, all smiling together. He misses them. Jerry looks away, suppressing the emotions that made their way onto his face. But duty calls, and they’re on the other side of the country, anyway.
He redirects his gaze, turning away from the picture and moving towards the kitchen instead.
His kitchen is pretty dusty. It’s not often he makes food, other than some bread with butter for breakfast. Time seems to pass him before he can grab even a whiff of it, leaving him with no time to make dinner. Instead, he buys take-away or just heats up some already made food.
As he’s about to make his way out of the kitchen, knowing he’s not missing food, his gaze catches the shine on metal. It’s the knives in the knife block. Seeing them reminds him of his cousin, Terry, who had gifted him the knives as a goodbye before Jerry moved to Mycelius. Jerry averts his gaze, again, not wanting to get into another emotional whirl about his family.
So he’s not missing food, or knives, but he knows he is missing something. He just can’t figure out what. Surely he’s not short of clothes? Didn’t he buy some recently?
Jerry walks back into the living room, avoiding the picture frame, and into his bedroom. If he knows himself correctly, he left the plastic bag by the end of his bed, so he could unpack it later.
Except, there is no plastic bag with newly bought groceries, and as he walks all around his house searching for it, there is still none. He racks his brain for a single hint of where he could’ve left it, but it only responds with the same pounding question.
Where’s his grocery bag?
-
Ocie sighs, looking at the glass doors of her bakery. A customer hadn't come in for a while and she was growing a bit bored. She stands by the sink at a counter in the bakery, water falling from the tap. She holds her breath, a debuff to her power, and plays a bit with the water, twirling it around in the air. Her mind wanders off, letting random thoughts tumble through her head.
Suddenly, she hears the bell ring for the first time in a while and Ocie looks up from the counter to see Jerry, an earlier customer, walk in. He seems like he’s in a rush and he keeps glancing around the store. Ocie takes a breath, letting the water fall back into the sink.
“What’s up? You seem rushed.” She tilts her head, gaining his attention. “Are you looking for something?” She asks, noticing the way his eyes dart around the building.
“Well, you see, I kinda forgot my bag here last time.. Have you seen it?” He explains, a little embarrassed.
At this, Ocie immediately lights up and tells him to stay put as she goes into the backroom where she put the lost bag.
“Here you go! One forgotten bag, coming right up!” She grins, setting the bag on the counter.
“Thank you so much! I was worried I was never getting it back.” He smiles, taking the bag back.
“Oh, it’s no problem!” Ocie says, waving off any concern.
An awkward silence fills out between them, both just staring into each others eyes for a second too long.
“Well uh, I’m gonna go-” Jerry is the first to break the silence, looking away and beginning to turn towards the doors.
“Wait.” Ocie says, about to reach out to grab his wrist, but then retracts. “Would you maybe want to stay a while?” She suggested, her voice soft and a little uncertain. She keeps her gaze down, not daring to see his expression.
Jerry smiles, he considers, a brief pause as Ocie waits with bated breath. “Okay, I’ll stay.” He decides, something fond in his tone.
Ocie tries to hide the way she brightens at the response, though she looks up to meet his gaze nonetheless.
“So, do you want anything?” She leans on the counter, glancing at the sweets around the bakery to hint at what she’s talking about.
“Oh! Uh,” Jerry pats on his pockets for a second. “I don’t have my wallet on me, sorry.” He says, almost guiltily.
“No need to apologize! It’s on the house.” Ocie assured, giving as kind a smile as ever.
Jerry raises his eyes in surprise for a moment, debating whether this was some trick to make him owe her or not. Then, relaxes. “Thank you, then. And I think I’ll take a slice of pumpkin pie, again.”
“Pumpkin pie must be your favourite, huh? I’ll go get a slice for you.” Ocie pushes herself off the counter, swiftly heading into the backroom and coming back out not long after, plate and pie in hand. “Same place as last time?”
“Yeah, that works.”
They sit down at the same table in the corner of the bakery, and Ocie watches as Jerry takes a piece of the slice of pie, immediately digging into it.
“That good, huh?” She chuckles and Jerry freezes for a second, a slight red dusting his cheeks. He quickly swallows down the pie in his mouth to respond.
“Oh, yeah. You make pumpkin pie really well.” He smiles. “I wish I had more time on my hands to come here. Anything to get more pumpkin pie.”
Ocie laughs, and Jerry makes a slight smirk, as if proud of himself. “I guess I should advertise my pumpkin pie more then, considering how much you like it.” She shrugs, leaning back in her chair and getting comfortable.
“Feel free to. Hey, speaking of business, have you got any new customers lately?” Jerry asks, eating another piece of the pie while Ocie answers.
And they continue chatting like that for a while, their conversation carrying effortlessly, and feeling more open and casual than last time.
Suddenly, Jerry’s phone rings again. Ocie watches him fish it out of his pocket and hold it to his ear, staying silent while he answers it.
“Okay, I’ll see you there.” He replies curtly, then hangs up the phone. “Thank you for the pie, Ocie, but I’m sorry as I have to go now.” He apologizes as he quickly gets up from the table and grabs his bag, actually remembering it this time.
“Oh, it’s fine! Have a nice-”
Jerry’s out the door before she finishes her sentence, rushing down the street.
“day..” Ocie mutters the last part, and her shoulders fall in slight sadness over the apparent dismissal. She sighs, and gets up from her seat, picking up Jerry’s dishes. Ocie walks to the counter with the sink and turns on the water tap, letting the water run. She leans on the counter with her chin resting on her hand and stares yet again at the glass doors of her bakery.
I wonder what’s so important about Jerry’s job that he always has to immediately leave whenever he gets a call.