Chapter Text
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Milo opens his eyes.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
That is definitely something hitting his window. He slides out of bed, creeping over and opening the curtains. He looks out into the darkness, down into his yard. Two shadowy figures lurk, eyes trained on the window. Eyes trained on him.
He gives a thumbs up and creeps over to his closet. Hidden in a box is a purple suit, a purple helmet. He tucks them into his backpack and sneaks downstairs, carefully catching falling objects and avoiding creaky planks so he doesn’t wake anyone.
He isn’t used to hiding things from his family. He doesn’t think that he likes it, he hates the squirmy feeling in his stomach when he lies about something that he did, about where he was, about what he is doing. Cavendish and Dakota say that teenage rebellion is normal. He isn’t sure that this is entirely normal.
Diogee watches him go. He swears that his dog is judging him- which doesn’t seem entirely fair, really! Sure, he’s technically a criminal, but he’s helping people. Sure, he’s lying to his parents, but… well, he doesn’t have an excuse for that.
He opens the door, wincing as it squeaks. But it doesn’t break, and he is able to leave the house noticed only by the dog. And Diogee hasn’t yet alerted his parents to his activities.
Cavendish and Dakota are now waiting outside the yard, both dressed in costume. Purple suits, purple helmets. Milo glances around, hoping that his neighbours aren’t out for a late night stroll. That would be hard to explain. “Hey guys. What’s up?”
“We’ve got a mission.” Dakota says eagerly, the moon glinting in his eyes. He isn’t Dakota right now, not when he’s in costume, not when there’s a mission. Right now he’s Guard.
“Essentially, a villain is going to attempt to attack a building tomorrow morning. They are going to lay explosives tonight, and set them to go off tomorrow, and we are going to break in tonight and get them caught.” Cavendish- or, in his criminal alter ego, Stormcloud- is less eager, more professional. Milo knows well that his stern appearance hides a warm heart, a great deal of kindness.
He knows that both of these criminals are far kinder than anyone could ever imagine.
Milo didn’t hit it off well with Cavendish and Dakota, not at first. He, and his friends Melissa and Zack, got trapped in a museum that they were robbing. They were locked up by the thieves, and Milo assumed that they were cruel, dangerous. Criminals.
But when far more dangerous villains got involved, they teamed up. And Milo found that Cavendish and Dakota- back then, Vice-Principals with the Banzai Blasters- were really good people, despite being criminals.
And now he supposes that he is working for them.
So definitely not what he expected for his life, but there are worse part time jobs.
“I’m in.” He grins. Cavendish and Dakota refuse to text- ‘who knows who might see that!’- so they insist on appearing at his house at various unfriendly times of night to drag him on a mission. He doesn’t mind. Really, he enjoys it. “Do you need me to contact Me- Dealer and Lumberjack?”
Remembering to call his friends by their secret identities is really hard. But he tries hard to remember, because what if he forgot and they got caught? They could get arrested.
Sometimes he does worry a bit about the fact that, good guys or not, they are criminals. He has committed more crimes in the last few weeks than he ever did before, and it definitely feels weird. Funny. Does he feel guilty? He isn’t sure. He doesn’t think he’s doing a bad thing, but the secrets are piling up like rocks on his stomach. And he definitely doesn’t want to be arrested.
“Yes. But don’t text them! Use the burner.” Cavendish insists. Milo nods.
First he ducks behind a bush to change. He is just putting on a jumpsuit and helmet, but it feels like more than that- hiding his identity, hiding who he is, it makes him feel different. As Milo Murphy, people always notice him. They know who he is, they know what he is. They know that he is a Murphy, that his epithet is Jinx, that he is dangerous.
All Murphys have similar epithets. Disaster, Hazard, Danger. Jinx. Their epithets cause disasters, make things go wrong. Murphy’s Law, essentially.
But Jinx is a little more complicated than his dad and grandad and everyone else’s epithets. He can ‘jinx’ other people, essentially transferring Murphy’s Law to them for a short period of time. But he doesn’t like doing that.
He has done it three times, over the course of his life. He hopes to never do it again.
So Milo is used to being noticed. Used to being feared, or wondered about. Used to being the centre of attention, positive or negative.
As Danger-Zone, it’s different. No one knows who he is, no one knows about Murphy’s Law. And, as much as he loves his life, and his family heritage, that does feel nice.
He messages Melissa and Zack on the burner. mission. meet at park? - DZ
affirmative- D
at this time of night?? fine -LJ
———
They meet at the park, hidden in the shadows. Their faces are hidden behind helmets, their names hidden behind lies. “… and that’s the plan. Any questions?”
“I have a question.” Melissa raises her hand. “Why do we do this stuff so late at night?”
“Because we’re criminals. Criminals don’t operate in the afternoon.” Cavendish reminds her.
“Besides, what else are you doing?” Dakota jokes.
“School? Tomorrow morning?” Zack points out.
Cavendish and Dakota exchange a sheepish look. Apparently, they once again forgot that their young assistants are, in fact, school children. “Next time we will aim for Friday or Saturday.”
“Thank you.” Melissa says, arms crossed. Milo knows that behind her visor her eyes are glowing with excitement. Melissa loves the secrecy, the dramatics.
Zack is the most cautious about their new… career path? Volunteering? Internship? Milo isn’t sure what to call it. Zack is worried about being caught, or hurt, or both.
Milo notices glances as the trio run down the street together. Stares. Pointing. People pulling out their phones, even. That’s good, they are trying to draw attention.
Given that someone has already done the hard part, breaking into the building is as easy as opening the front door and walking inside. Being deliberately noisy, they rush for the huge ‘function room’.
Sure enough, they find their enemy there. A Banzai Blaster, a high ranking one. She scowls. “What are you, Bargain Blasters?” She laughs at her own joke.
“Funny.” Milo puts on a deep voice, a more threatening voice than his own.
“Like we’re not better than you in every way.” Melissa adds. The three of them move into fighting stances, making themselves look bigger, tougher.
Not that it helps much when they are half the height of their opponent. “Oh, give over. You three are just kids.” She scoffs. “What can you do in a fight, anyway?”
Melissa laughs. “You wanna make a Gamble?”
As she says it, she moves her arm as if throwing something. A glowing dice drops onto the ground in front of her, rolling and spinning around… until it lands on a four.
The woman is roughly thrown backwards. “Little-“ She swears loudly, pulling a Banzai Peashooter out of her belt. She aims it at Melissa and fires.
Zack reaches out to grab a nearby wooden chair. The wood morphs under his hand, twisting and shifting into the shape of a shield. He darts in front of Melissa with it, blocking the shot.
The woman growls lowly. “I am gonna kill you three!” She snaps.
“Bullets only do minor impact damage.” Milo reminds her.
“Why would you feel the need to just say that out loud?” Zack asks him. He shrugs.
“Shut up! Who cares?! I’ll kill you with my bare hands!” The woman launches at them. They barely avoid her, Zack’s wooden shield once again saving him.
They split up, surrounding her. Melissa rolls another dice- but this time she lands on a three, so nothing happens. The Banzai Blaster takes advantage of what she assumes it be a moment of weakness, lunging for Melissa with a murderous glint in her eyes.
Milo notices a screw popping loose, and points at the ground beneath her feet. Just as he lets out a dramatic exclamation, the floorboard flies up, knocking her off of her feet.
Milo can’t control his epithet, not like that. But hey, when fighting bad guys, sometimes it helps if they think that he can. And besides, what is a villain without the dramatics?
Zack seizes the opportunity, bending down to touch the ground. A floorboard twists and rises to trap her ankle, pressing down. She growls. “Let go of me! Let me go!”
“How about… no?” Zack says dryly, crossing his arms.
“Who the hell are you kids? Who do you think you are, messing with the Banzai Blasters?!” She roars, fighting to free herself with every ounce of her strength.
The trio stand together, every inch the cool, badass villains. “We are… um.”
Milo hesitates. “We are…”
“Well…”
“Thing is…”
The woman just stares, watching as their demeanours rapidly shift from confident to awkward and sheepish.
“We don’t exactly have a name yet.” Milo explains, scratching the back of his head. “We’ve only been doing this for a few weeks, we spent the whole first week deciding on uniform colours, and we haven’t had time for a proper brainstorming session for the name.”
“It’s a work in progress.” Melissa adds, scratching the back of her neck.
“We’re just getting started.” Zack agrees.
The woman’s eyes narrow. “Just Getting Started? Well then, Just Getting Started, you will regret this day! And soon you will be… finished!”
“That was kinda a lame threat.” Melissa says. “A bit weak.”
Zack nods. “And besides, we’re not called Just Getting Started, we’re-“
They hear sirens, and jump simultaneously. They run for their agreed on exit, a vent in the wall. By the time the police arrive, the only person in view is the Banzai Blaster, trapped on the ground next to her half finished explosive. “You will regret this!” She yells again, realising that the children ensured that she would be caught. “You will regret this, Just Getting Started!”
“Who are Just Getting Started?” The police ask her. Her response is garbled and furious, but they get the idea.
Just Getting Started are a problem.
———
Milo wakes up the next morning with itchy eyes, a sore head, and an aching body.
He slides out of bed, with a yawn to match the sound of the tree crashing through his window. He traipses into the kitchen, sitting down at the table. “Morning mom. Morning dad. Morning Sara. Morning Diogee.”
Diogee yaps, a yap that Milo is certain is disappointed. His dog is disappointed in him.
His family are none the wiser, of course. “Good morning, Milo.” His mom ruffles his hair. “You look exhausted.”
“I had a bad night’s sleep.” Milo lies, rubbing his eyes. He could put his head down and sleep right here in his cracked bowl of cereal.
“You’ve bene having a lot of those recently.” His dad remarks. “Maybe it’s something you’re eating?”
“Maybe.” Milo says, looking down at the milk leaking from his bowl to avoid looking at his dad. He feels guilty, so guilty for deceiving his parents. His parents love him, trust him. They really trust him. Because he has never given them a reason not to. Until now.
He doesn’t want to lie to them. He trusts them. But he can’t tell them he’s a criminal.
“Morning, lil’ brother.” Sara reaches to ruffle his hair. He tenses, but let’s it happen. She slides him a box with green berries in it. Stamina berries.
Sara also has an epithet- Berry. She can make berries that heal you, or give you stamina. Or just berries that taste really good.
Milo loves his big sister a lot. But after the incident when he was younger, when he discovered that he could ‘jinx’ people? He always feels guilty around Sara. He hates that he hurt her. He doesn’t want to hurt her again.
There is a distance between them now, tense and seemingly insurmountable, despite how much they love each other. Milo is so, so scared to hurt her. He feels so guilty for doing it before.
And Sara must be scared of him. She must be, right? How could she not be?
That’s the only explanation.
Milo manages to finish his cereal without passing out or revealing his secret alter-ego, which he considers an achievable. As he takes his bowl to the sink, he hears the news on the tv.
“… local business broken into by two rival criminal organisation, who appear to have fought over an explosive device. One group can be confirmed as the infamous Banzai Blasters, while the other is the purple clad criminals that have become regular staples of the news recently. The police suggest that these violet violence-doers may call themselves Just Getting Started. We will keep you updated on any new developments.”
Milo drops his bowl. Luckily, he doesn’t live in a family where that would ever be questioned, so he can quickly clean it up.
He’s on the news. And that isn’t exactly rare, Murphy’s Law has caused that before, but this is different. Very, very different.
“I’d love to be a hero.” Sara remarks absently, between mouthfuls of toast. “And fight bad guys like that.”
———
“You guys-“
‘-saw the-“
“-news today, right?”
The trio huddle at the bus stop, all equally exhausted. “What do we do?” Zaxk asks.
“Nothing. There’s nothing to tie us with ‘Just Getting Started’.” Melissa hisses. “Which stupid ass criminal name, by the way. Why can’t we be called something cool?”
“It wasn’t exactly on purpose.” Milo says. “We’ll come up with something later. Just, be calm about this now, ok? We’ll be fine.”
School is normal. They do their work, eat lunch, hang out. They are normal kids, completely normal kids. Just Milo, Melissa and Zack.
Aside from the fact that they can hardly keep themselves awake, they are normal. Aside from the occasional nighttime villainy, and the regular Murphy’s Law, their lives are normal.
———
Milo sits at his desk, doing homework. He hears a car pull up outside, and looks out of the window. His eyes widen.
The car in the driveway is a police car.
He gulps. He is as familiar with the police as every other emergency service- but things have changed recently. Now he is effectively a criminal.
He needs to calm down. There are a hundred reasons why the police might be at his door, and his criminal activities don’t even top the list. Murphy’s Law regularly sends the law enforcement to the Murphy house. He has no reason to worry.
The doorbell rings. Someone answers it. Milo can’t hear the words, can only hear muffled conversation.
But then he hears footsteps coming up the stairs, and a knock on his door. “Milo?” Even his mom sounds a little confused, which makes his stomach squirm. “The police want to talk to you.”
Milo follows her downstairs. The same police officer as before, Officer Percival King- or, Percy. She seems a little more serious than last time. He gulps. “Hello, Milo. Glad to see that you are holding up.”
“Hi, Officer!” Milo shakes her hand.
She doesn’t tell him to call her Percy this time. Is that a bad sign? “What do you need?” He asks politely.
“Just a quick word about a few incidents.” She says. “Can you come down to the station?”
“Sure.” He says cheerfully. He has no reason to be nervous. Everything’s ok. He needs to stay calm.
So he gets into the back of her squad car, and is driven to the station. His mom shoots him a questioning look, and he shrugs. “Probably Murphy’s Law.” He murmurs. She hasn’t handcuffed him, and she hasn’t technically arrested him, so that seems like a good sign. Everything’s ok.
He and his mom follow Percy into the police station. He has been here before, plenty of times, but he still feels nervous. Still feels inclined to cling to his mom.
As they walk towards an interview room, he hears a door open behind him. He turns around to see… Melissa’s dad? And then, behind him, Melissa.
They make eye contact, hundreds of words passing in scarcely a moment. This cannot be a good sign. If they want to question both of them, are they aware that they are working together? Do they know about Zack? About Cavendish and Dakota?
Milo thought that they were being discrete. But something has clearly gone wrong.
He is forced to look away from his best friend as he follows Percy into the interview room. She sits down opposite them. “Milo Murphy. I’m glad that you’re well.”
“You too!” Milo says cheerfully. “How’s, um, catching those bad guys from the museum?”
“That is exactly what I want to talk to you about.” Percy says. “We are working on catching them. However, it appears that they have been committing more crimes in Danville.”
“More? Oh no, that’s awful.” Milo says. His hands are sweating. “What about the amulet that they stole? Have you found it?”
“Actually, we do have good news on that front.” Percy smiles a little. “The amulet has been found. However, who found it, and where it is now, is classified- even I don’t know.”
“I’m glad it was found.” Milo smiles genuinely, even as he squirms. “Because it was scary.”
“It was incredibly scary.” Percy nods once, sharp. “But rest assured, it is in safe hands now. It will never be a threat to you, or anyone else, again.”
“That’s good.” Milo smiles.
“Unfortunately, not all news is so good, which is why I need to talk to you.” She continues. “As I said, those heinous Banzai Blasters- or, ex-Banzai Blasters- are still on the loose.”
“Ex-Banzai Blasters?” Milo forces himself to raise his eyebrows, to look surprised.
“Yes. While we do not know why, we do know that they have shed their yellow uniforms, for purple. We can only assume that they have left the Banzai Blasters, for unknown reasons. Perhaps a spat over pay. Perhaps a disagreement in leadership. Whatever it is, they are no longer with the Banzai Blasters.”
“Well that’s good, right?” Milo says. “They’re not working for a big organisation anymore.”
“I wish I could agree. But lone wolves are dangerous, child, extremely dangerous. They answer to no one, so they do whatever they want.” Percy shakes her head, a solemn frown pasted across her face like a rain cloud. “It is even more imperative that we catch them.”
“As I said, they have committed several more crimes. First, a bar fight at the Redwood Run. And then several thefts, fights, assaults, in the weeks since then. They have grown bold.” Percy flicks through a file on the desk in front of her. “Thankfully, no innocents have been hurt. Yet.”
“Pardon me, Officer.” Milo’s mom interjects. She puts her hand on Milo’s shoulder. “This is all very concerning, but what does it have to do with my son?”
Milo nods along with her. Percy sighs, straightening her papers. “Despite being part of a large criminal organisation, those men always worked alone. Until the incident at Redwood Run.”
Milo hopes that his gulp isn’t visible. “There, they were accompanied by a third person, whose identity is currently unknown, as they covered their face. All we know about them is that they are small, and they have some kind of powerful, disaster based Epithet.”
“A what?” Milo’s eyes widen, for real this time.
“We will come back to that. After that incident, they changed the colour of their uniforms to purple. And then, at every incident, they were accompanied by three small people, who always covered their faces.” Percy explains.
“You still aren’t explaining what this has to do with my son.” His mom is protective. Defensive. And endlessly trusting of him.
“Milo, what is your Epithet?” Percy asks.
Oh no. “Jinx.” He says simply. “It’s Jinx.”
“And what does your epithet do?”
“Causes disasters.” Milo doesn’t bother lying. Everyone knows what his Epithet is.
“The child who accompanies the criminals has an Epithet that causes disasters.” Percy says.
“Milo can’t make anything happen with his Epithet.” His mom interjects. She trusts him so much. She always trusts him. It makes him feel so bad, so bad for betraying her trust. “Not deliberately. It just happens.”
“We shall see.” Percy says. She is matter of fact, but it still feels like an ominous threat.
She pulls a photo out of her folder and passes it over to him.
Yeah, that’s him alright. Not that anyone aside from him could tell- his face is hidden. And even his stance, almost cocky, is very different from his normal self. “This isn’t me.” He says. “This kid looks nothing like me.”
“He is the exact same height as you.” Percy says. “And the same build.”
Milo winces. “Loads of kids my age are the same height and build as me.”
“And how many of them have the same epithet?”
“He doesn’t have the same epithet.” His mom interrupts again, shielding him instinctively with her arm. “This criminal can control their epithet, deliberately creating disasters. That’s not how Milo’s epithet works.”
“Explain exactly how your epithet works.” Percy instructs Milo.
He feels his mom squeeze his hand. Ok. He’s ok. “It’s mostly completely out of my control. Murphy’s Law just happens around me, and I can’t do anything except respond to it. I can ‘jinx’ people by touching them, and passing Murphy’s Law onto them, but nothing like this kid can do.”
For once, he isn’t lying. He really can’t control it.
But neither can Danger-Zone.
Who is him.
Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.
Percy frowns. “Demonstrate.”
“Huh?”
“Show me how your epithet works.”
As she says it, Milo’s chair collapses. He tumbles to the ground, banging his head. His ears ring, but he he used to that. “Like that.” He explains, wincing as he staggers to his feet. “Completely randomly.”
“And your ‘jinxing’?” Percy prompts.
Milo hesitates. “I don’t like using that.” He says. “It’s dangerous. The Murphy’s Law that affects the people I jinx is stronger than the Murphy’s Law that affects me. People get hurt much more easily.” He knows that he and his mom are both thinking about Sara.
But his mom still nods. “Milo, just use it on me.” She suggests. Ok, his mom’s worried, then. He sighs, taking a deep breath. He learned to control it. He can do this.
He places a hand on his mom’s shoulder, and concentrates. “Jinx.” He murmurs. Immediately, he feels the energy rush from his body. They both glow pink for a moment, and then stop. Milo feels his head spin as he sinks onto the table.
The light shatters, spraying glass everywhere. All of the chairs collapse, then the table. The roof above his mom begins to crack, and he pushes her out of the way moments before it collapses.
Percy watches the whole incident with a sort of neutrality- an acceptance of the situation, like it isn’t the strangest thing that she has seen in her life.
Murphy’s Law varies in strength, of course. But currently it is relentless, and utterly focused on his mom. He knows that if he lets it continue, it will just get worse until she is knocked out. “This is it.” He tells Percy. “Can I stop it now?”
“Yes, before you bring down the whole station.”
So Milo touches his mom, and focuses on relaxing. He feels the energy rush back into him, his stamina return, his arms and legs stop shaking. And Murphy’s Law returns to him- returns to normal.
Bereft of chairs, the three of them sit on the floor. “Thank you for talking to me, Milo.” Percy is smiling, her face brighter than before. “I’m glad that you aren’t involved. You’re a nice boy.” She stands up, shaking his hand. “Go on, go home. And stay out of trouble.”
“I’ll try!” Milo says cheerfully. “Good luck with your bad guys.”
His mom holds his hand as they leave. “Well, that was a mess.” She laughs. “Glad it’s all sorted out.”
His mom still trusts him, completely.
In the carpark, they run into Melissa. “You too?” His mom says.
“They accused me of being a criminal!” Melissa sounds outraged. She is a much better actor than Milo. “Just because I have a similar epithet to some criminal that’s been causing havoc, like luck based epithets aren’t a dime a dozen!”
“They accused me too.” Milo says. “Because my epithet causes disaster, and there’s this kid doing crimes who has a similar epithet. But that’s not even how my epithet works.”
“It’s ok, it’s all sorted now.” His mom reassures him. “Sometimes people think that Murphys do stuff deliberately, even though that’s not how it works. It’s ok.”
“Well, it’s a funny coincidence that both of them got taken in at the same time.” Melissa’s dad says. He sounds mad, not amused- definitely at the police for accusing Melissa.
Melissa snorts. “Imagine if Zack also got-“
She is distracted by someone saying her name, and turns around to see Zack standing with his dad. Zack looks shaken, and his dad had his arm over his shoulders. “You two?” Mr Underwood says, surprised.
The kids just make eye contact. They all know exactly why they were all questioned. Because the police were actually right.
Their parents laugh at the coincidence. They trust their kids.
———
Milo sits on a bench, helmet hiding his face. “We need to be more careful.” He says. “They questioned us.”
“What happened?” Dakota’s eyes widen.
“I overhead, what was it, ‘there’s no way those three could have pulled all of that off’.” Melissa quotes. “Too dangerous, too hotheaded, too cowardly. Too ‘childish and stupid’. They’ve completely written us off.”
“Well that’s good.” Dakota says. “We can’t have you three getting caught. Are you alright? That must have been scary.”
“We’re fine.” Milo says.
“But we need to be more careful from now on.” Zack says. “We can’t get caught. Mom and dad…”
“It will be alright.” Cavendish promises. “We won’t let you three get caught. Now, are you ready for the mission?”
Milo looks at his friends and grins. Despite his worries, he can’t deny that his secret life is fun.
He just hopes that he can keep his real life and his secret life separate.
“Oh, and by the way.” Melissa says. “We need a better villain name. How about the Chaos Council.”
Dakota frowns. “Council sounds too formal. We’re more like a crew.”
“We are not being called Crew.” Cavendish retorts.
“Cohort?” Milo suggests.
“No, I don’t like that… let’s just do away with Chaos.”
“Anarchy?” Zack says. “Like, Anarchy Agents?”
“Nope.”
“Guys, don’t we have a mission to be doing?”