Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Henry Hart often dreamt of two things when he was younger. Two fantasies that kept him going in his early days with the power of hope. Hope was supposed to be the one thing that children are good at. They have to be taught how to talk, how to read, how to ride a bike. But hope? Hope was something only children had mastery over. That was the one area where children became the teachers, sharing with their parents and guardians a skill that had long since been lost. A casualty of the steadily growing responsibilities and rejections they had faced over their steadily increasing years. Henry was never good at hoping.

The first thing that kept a smaller, simpler Henry going was the fantasy of flying. The idea that, maybe someday, he’d greet the clouds, and they’d show him all their secrets. In his dreams, the clouds would gently grab his hand and guide him to somewhere amazing. Anywhere, really.

Henry had been told by his teachers that there was a whole wide world out there beyond Swellview. His classmates would talk about how much fun it would be to go somewhere cool like Egypt, where they could explore a mummy’s tomb. Or venture to China where they could race across its Great Wall. Henry thought that might be fun, but he wasn’t really that picky. As long as he could just breathe free without that weird tight feeling his chest did sometimes when his parents gave him that scary look, or his teacher handed him back his test paper with those eyes that made him chilly, then that sounded like the best vacation to him.

That dream never concerned anyone. Plenty of children thought flight would be a neat thing to have. And in a town with its own resident superhero, powers were an even more common topic of conversation among the younger population.

No, it was the second fantasy that was out of the norm. So out of the norm that, even as a child, Henry knew he could never share it with anyone. He knew it was something that nobody else talked about, so it must just be something that was wrong with him specifically. While all the other kids were curious and adventurous, always begging their parents to go somewhere new and exciting on the weekend, Henry only wished to be buried in blankets and stuffed animals where nothing could find him. No one would tell him what he needed to do or how he needed to do it (which never seemed to be the way Henry initially tried to do it). If no one could see him, then no one could see his flaws.

Now, at 17 years old, Henry Hart felt the clouds tickle his face as he flew a blimp steadily towards Swellview Mountain. His knuckles started to match the color of the clouds as he shakily guided the rapidly deteriorating vessel towards an early grave. Two wishes at once. Two fantasies Henry never stopped dreaming about as the days went by and his childhood left him behind. Some would say this is a perfect case of ' be careful what you wish for' but Henry didn't really regret it. Even if it was more morbid than his younger self envisioned, it was still at its core a way for his deepest desires to be realized. And he got to save Ray in the process. Henry could never truly regret that.

The only sound left in his ears was the wind rushing past as he took out his comm. It was useless now since his friends had evacuated the slowly detonating Man Cave. The only one left who might be able to use the secure line was Ray, and Henry had already said all he felt brave enough to say to the man. Henry let go of his comm, his last connection to hope, and let it tumble off the blimp.

Henry thought about looking back to see if he could still spot Ray, but that didn’t feel like the hero thing to do, and Henry would be damned if he wasn’t the hero for at least one moment in his life. So he faced straight ahead. That didn’t turn out to be a great choice either. Swellview Mountain was now dangerously close to the out-of-control blimp. Henry averted his gaze, scrunching his eyes closed and bracing for impact. He thought his life might flash before his closed lids, but there was only a brief flash of green before it was overtaken by black.

*************

Henry woke up to that same black. Ignoring the way it throbbed, Henry turned his head to take in his surroundings, but everywhere he looked it was just black. Henry choked down his rising anxiety as he used his hands to gather information instead. His brain was fuzzy, but his training demanded he stay as focused as he could and analyze whatever predicament he had found himself in. Most directions he was greeted by something cool and grainy with a slight dampness to it. Dirt. He could extend his arms out about halfway on either side before touching the walls. Oddly, he seemed to be in an almost perfectly spherical space. He continued feeling around until he slid his hand to whatever was above him. Expecting more dirt, Henry reeled his hand back when he felt something hard and sharp. More cautiously, Henry reached out again. The material was smooth save for some jagged edges, and oddly warmer than the dirt below and to his sides. Probably some kind of metal.

He continued feeling it out until he pushed a bit harder than he meant to. Dirt started falling slowly on Henry’s face, but he ignored it to focus on the bit of light that filtered in from a gap between his dirt and metal confines. Switching from a kneeled position to a crouch, Henry pushed against the metal again with the entirety of his leg and arm strength. The metal slowly came loose as Henry lifted it, feeling some dirt fall off the metal scrap as more dirt piled into the hole, burying his feet and ankles. The walls crumbled inward slightly. Henry’s strength started to fade, so he slid the metal off the side. It was stopped by something on the surface, but there was a big enough gap for Henry to slip through.

After a moment to catch his breath and once again push away the cotton that was infecting his brain, Henry pulled himself out of the hole out into the open air. He glanced down into the hole as he was leaving it. It didn’t look as circular anymore as it had felt in the dark. Henry decided to chalk that up to him having a false mental image of the space. He looked for the weird metal that was covering him. It was just some dented sheet of metal. It had definitely seen better days. Henry continued surveilling the new surroundings. There were a lot of burnt scraps of fabric littering a woodland area, speckled by more bits of sheet metal and some metal bars. Everything was either burnt or bent, and the entire area was covered in a layer of ash that wafted into the air to mix in with a thin cloud of smoke. Henry walked forward, stumbling over something half covered by what once might have been a white or gray fabric. Stopping, he picked it up. It looked like a crude spear.

The previous night - was it a night ago? It was light outside now - came rushing back to Henry. He crashed. He crashed a blimp. Henry patted himself down, just now checking for injuries. Other than some scrapes, soreness, and a light itch in his throat from the smoke, he was fine. The most annoying hindrance was the massive headache, but he had managed with worse.

Henry continued walking forward, eventually coming to some caution tape. It seemed like the whole area had been taped off. Now that he thought about it, Henry saw that there were no fires blazing anymore and some of the debris looked to be organized and cleared away. Just how long had it been?

Moving his hand up to his ear, Henry tried to activate his comm to get in touch with someone to check in. Right. He had dramatically dropped his high tech comm off a blimp. And he had left his phone home in a rush to go help Ray. No matter. He would use his watch. Henry quickly rolled up his tattered sleeve. No such luck. His watch had been broken in the crash. It seemed like a decent chunk of his costume had been ruined, actually.

His attire had been passed over by whatever luck had spared him, apparently. His mask had been ripped off by Drex. That he remembered. But the torn vest that now only had one strap, the ripped-up pants and the one missing shoe were new developments. Great. Henry couldn’t go walking around the woods with one shoe.

Glancing around first, Henry took out the gumball tube that had luckily not also gone MIA, chewed one, and blew a bubble. With a flash of light, Henry’s tattered rags Cinderella'd themselves into mildly respectable average middle class teenage boy rags. Thankfully, his civilian outfit had shoes since he had been dragged back into this superhero mess right after getting home.

Without any form of communication intact, Henry would just have to continue walking until he could find his way home or at least to a phone. Thinking about the possibly long journey ahead, it hit Henry just how out of sorts he was. His stomach growled violently, and his throat and mouth stung from how dry they were. Not to mention his entire body felt like he had slept 12 hours in a pretzel shape. This was not going to be fun.

*************

The first thing Henry came across after wandering the unfamiliar woods for a bit over an hour was not a road, or - like he had been salivating over for the last 15 minutes - a taco truck. It was a clearing that Henry recognized as a fairly popular local park near the bottom of Mount Swellview. A gathering looked to be taking place in the clearing. White chairs were lined up in rows, each looking toward a small stage surrounded by white flowers in flowerpots. The stage was currently barren save for something large being covered by a white cloth.

He probably should have just gone up to someone in the back row and asked to borrow their phone, but Henry felt odd interrupting whatever was going on. Everyone was dressed formally and there seemed to be a serious, maybe even sullen tone to the whole event. Henry stood there frozen by indecision, obscured from view in the tree line.

Soon, a man climbed the few steps of the stage to greet the crowd. Henry recognized him as the vice mayor of Swellview.

“Thank you all for gathering here today. It’s been a great turnout today, and I’m really proud of the community for coming together like this,” The vice mayor started off. “Normally, I don’t make an appearance at these sorts of things. I’m the vice mayor, not the funeral rites mayor, but today is a special case.”

Henry retreated further into the bushes, feeling awkward eavesdropping on a funeral, even if it was most likely a public one based on the large crowd attending.

“Now, we have a selection of speeches shortly, followed by light refreshments, but I wanted to start off today's proceeding strong. Many fine members of this city worked day and night since we received the tragic news almost three days ago and worked tirelessly to craft a remarkable tribute to the fallen. Today, ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to now present it, so without further ado . . .” The vice mayor moved a few steps back, grabbing the white cloth on the stage and pulling it off to reveal a golden statue of Kid Danger. Two Kid Dangers, in fact.

Henry almost choked. A million questions raced through his still pounding skull. Three days? Was that how long ago the fight with Drex had been? The fallen? Did they really think Kid Danger was dead? Honestly, why wasn’t he dead? How had he even survived a crash like that? Where was Ray? Was he doing okay?

Henry started to step out of the trees, finally ready to ask to borrow a phone so he could let people know he was alive, but the vice mayor’s commanding voice stopped him.

“Now, the city asked Captain Man to make an appearance today and maybe say a few words, but Captain Man unfortunately could not make it, saying he was far too busy dealing with something of greater importance, so instead we will contin-”

The vice mayor’s voice faded away from Henry’s area of focus. Ray wasn’t here? Wasn’t this supposed to be Henry’s - or Kid Danger’s - funeral? What could be more important than that?

‘Everything.’ His mind supplied.

The Man Cave had just been blown up, Drex needed a more secure prison, Henry had blabbed his secret identity to his parents who probably needed to be dealt with now. Ray probably was - rightfully so - way too busy to deal with something as low priority as this. Honestly, eating a hearty breakfast was probably more important than attending some stuffy funeral of the world’s worst sidekick.

Henry wiped away the water pooling in his eyes, scanning the crowd. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t spot his parents. They never attended anything Henry participated in. But he didn’t spot Piper, either. In fact, he didn’t see anyone he recognized other than a handful of villains in the front row that he had fought over the years, now currently handcuffed and being supervised by some armed guards. Henry scanned the crowd over and over, but the faces never changed. He didn’t see Schwoz, or Charlotte, or even Jasper. None of them had shown up . . .

‘And why would they?’ His inner thoughts chimed in once again. ‘They’re free of you now. Why attend some snoozefest when they could be living their lives unburdened?’ Tears came once again to replace the ones Henry had attempted to wipe away. It made sense. He hated it, but it made sense. They could breathe free now. Fly away to wherever they wanted.

Henry slowly walked away from the funeral with ragged breath unnoticed, thoughts of borrowing a phone long since abandoned. After all, ghosts didn’t interact with the living.

Chapter Text

Ray had never felt so powerless, and the Omega Weapon could not hold the blame for his uncharacteristic helplessness. As a weak and frail 8 year old with no superhuman ability, he had felt more control over his own life than he did in this current moment, and Ray couldn’t even control his own bedtime back then.

After he had become indestructible, Ray had been trained tirelessly to fight. To protect. He had worked day and night to fight hypothetical villains and respond to even the most unlikely of disasters. His paranoid father had drilled into him countless lessons that might be needed against a threat one day. Sometimes it just felt like Ray was fighting the air. Throughout the countless training simulations, Ray rarely won.

Now, decades later, Ray was once again fighting the air, and he was once again losing. No matter his struggle, the air filling his parachute only took him farther and farther away from where he needed to be. From his Kid.

For a moment, Ray wondered if the Omega Weapon had also sapped his ability to remember who he was working with. Why did he ever think for even a second that Henry was okay with someone else risking their life? As if Henry had ever been anything other than a stubborn, selfless idiot. As if renouncing the title of Kid Danger would magically give Henry any sort of preservation instinct. The kid hadn't even given up on being a hero for a full 24 hours yet, and he was back to being the same self-sacrificing person Ray had been working with for over 4 years..

Really, what other kind of 13-year-old took this kind of part-time job? No. Not part-time. This duty had never actually been of any sort of “part time” nature. Responsibility like this never waited for Henry to get a full 8 hours of sleep. The job never stopped just because it hit a certain number on the clock. It didn’t simply fade away if he was sick, or still needed to finish a book report. It never allowed him to just have fun, or nap, or study, or- Or graduate . . .

But Henry had quit. He could take some time off. He could graduate, and go wherever he wants in life. Do whatever he wants with his life. Ray just had to get to him. He just had to get him off that blimp somehow.

With renewed vigor, Ray fought against the winds pulling at him. The blimp only drifted farther and farther away. He tugged at the chords strapping him in. Ray thrashed in the air, stretching back at an awkward angle toward the parachute’s canopy, as if he could direct it right to the blimp if only he could touch it. The only thing that ever got closer to the panicking superhero was the ground.

Ray screamed into the cloudy night sky. He clawed at the air, never letting his sights leave the blimp. It was a small figure in the sky by now, with no clear way to even see Henry’s form atop the aircraft anymore. Ray reached an open hand out for it anyway. He grasped desperately for the child he tried to keep at arms’ length, wanting nothing more than to hold him tight and never let him go again.

For only the second time in his life, the man made a solemn vow. A vow to give Henry everything the kid deserved. To smother him in all the love and praise he’d been severely deprived of, if only Henry would give him the chance. Please, God just give him the chance.

The air vessel disappeared behind a violent burst of orange light atop Swellview Mountain. A deep, terrible sound echoed across the town like an isolated, unnatural thundercrack. The initial flash was soon replaced by a steady blaze starting from where Ray last saw the blimp and slowly fanning out among the sparse trees around the site. The light was prevalent, illuminating a previously indistinct mountain side. The flash was probably visible for miles, but Ray’s vision only grew darker watching the shining disaster. The fire slowly filled the sky with a column of smoke as a chill crept under Ray’s skin, permeating every previously densitized inch of skin.

Ray blindly felt around for the release mechanism on the parachute’s harness, eyes still locked on the fiery landmark. He found it right as his vision was obscured by the side of a building. Ray released himself, not caring about the fact he was still a few feet away from solid ground. Time was of the essence. His feet met the dingy, damp concrete of an alleyway. The parachute caught up with the superhero’s rushed landing and Ray pushed it away before it could trap him under its treacherous fabric.

Bracing against the brick wall for support, Ray pulled himself out of the alley, eyes immediately trying to relocate the fire. As soon as he saw it again, he ran.

This was fine. He could handle this. He’d been trained to respond to crashes. He’d dealt with plenty of them during his professional career. He could still help. He was the hero. He was trained to save. He had to save.

Swellview was a blur of lights and sounds as Ray sprinted towards his newest mission. Twin stars occasionally flew by upon their paved tracks, following the dotted lines meant to guide them on their journey through the darkness. Henry didn’t have any lines to keep him safe. The stars sometimes let loose an inhuman noise that would grow louder and then quieter as they passed. Ray paid them no mind. He had a job to do.

Eventually the stars stopped coming, and the trees greeted him instead. The trees were silent, but that was almost worse. Ray didn’t like the silence. It usually meant judgement. Disappointment. But Ray was used to that silence. He could ignore it, especially when there was an innocent to save.

Ray didn’t need to combat the silence for long as the earpiece he forgot he was wearing crackled to life. “Ray? Henhry?” Schwoz’s voice appeared.

“Schwoz? Where have you been?” Ray asked, a hint of accusation in his tone.

“A caveman fell on toop of me. I can’t reach de Man Cave anymoore. What happened? Did you two defeat Drex and securhe the bleemp?”

“Drex has been returned to prison. I’m running towards Henry and the blimp now.” Ray updated Schwoz the way he had been trained to report. Simple and factual.

“What do you mean heading to- Weren’t you booth on the bleemp? How are you goonna reahch an airboorne objehct from the ground?” Schwoz questioned, clearly not satisfied with the report.

“It’s not in the air. It’s on Swellview Mountain.” Ray swatted away a low hanging branch as he ran.

“Swellview Mountain?! That’s not a safe space to land! There’s too many trees und-” Schwoz’s voice cut off suddenly and for a moment Ray wondered if he forgot to charge the comms again.

“Ray?” Schwoz’s voice came back. “Ray? What’s that fihre oon the mountain? Where is Henhry?”

Ray coughed, finally close enough to his destination to be met with smoke every time he inhaled. “I think you know where he is. I’m going to get him now. I’ll save him. He’ll be okay.”

The crackle of fire greeted Ray’s ears as he made his way through some dense shrubbery and finally laid eyes on the blimp once more. The impact had made it almost unrecognizable.

“Ray . . . If he was oon the bleemp when it crashed into the mountain . . .”

“No!” Ray snapped. “I’ll save him. I’m at the blimp. I’ll find him.”

“Noobody could survi-” Ray tore out his comm, throwing it into one of the many piles of burning debris.

He scanned the crash site, looking for any obvious sign of a survivor. Preferably one that was unharmed and laughing at him for looking so worried over nothing. All he saw was fire and destruction. The metal frame was twisted and crushed into terrifying jagged shapes while the fabric and other more flammable bits of blimp were quickly scorched until they were ash. Ray tried not to think about how a human body would respond if this is what became of a skeleton made of steel.

“Henry?” Ray called out. There was no reply. He tried again, moving a little further into the wreckage. Still no answer. Ray moved around the site searching for his sidekick, occasionally calling out for the boy. Minutes passed as Ray’s words became more desperate and the silence that followed them grew more and more condemning.

After Ray had done a full sweep of the blimp, he began through the rubble. He grabbed the first piece of metal, immediately dropping it as its jagged edge sliced his hand and the heat from the metal semi-cauterized the new wound. Ray wiped the blood on his pant leg and grabbed another substantial piece of the wreckage and tossed it aside to look under it.

Ray dug through the disaster with reckless abandon as his attempts to locate Henry were looking more and more bleak. Ray’s indestructibility was gone but he tore through sharp and burning objects as if he had never been stronger. The small cuts and burns littered his hands and lower arms, but he disregarded any concerns for his own safety. Henry needed him more.

A sense of dread and despair clawed at Ray’s heart, making it pound almost painfully in his chest. His breath came out in short, gasping bursts that were occasionally followed by coughing fits as smoke infested his lungs. None of it mattered. Not until he could feel Henry’s heartbeat. Not until Ray could hear his breaths.

Ash had almost completely covered Ray’s face, save for a couple lines that started at the bottom of Ray’s eyes and fell downward past his cheeks until they disappeared off of his chin. His hands were a mix of black and red. His suit was torn in countless spots, concentrated mostly at the sleeves.

Time passed by in a blur while Ray diligently went about his rescue attempt. He continued to dig, randomly calling his kid’s name, even when the name started coming out raspy and choked.

Ray faltered. Stuck to a metal bar Ray had just picked up from an especially fiery pile of the crash was a scrap of red fabric. The blimp had been white. Ray picked off the fabric and hesitantly examined it closer. It was definitely from Henry’s pants. The superhero continued turning over the wreckage. There, wedged between two crumpled bits of the blimps frame was a small black mound of leather and rubber. It was charred and deformed, but it was definitely Henry’s shoe. Ray quickly grabbed it out of the fire, trying to save what little remained. The melted rubber slightly clung to his skin, but still Ray held on tight.

“Ray?!” A voice called. A spark of hope lit up in Ray before his mind caught up and stomped it back out. Henry didn’t have a weird accent.

Ray turned around, making eye contact with Schwoz. The short man stumbled around the crash, clearly weary of the fire that was almost completely surrounding them.

“It’s noot safe. Ray, the fire iz spreading throughout the mountain.” Schwoz stepped closer.

Ray shook his head. “No. I have to find henry!”

Schwoz gave a look that made Ray’s stomach churn. “I doon’t thinhk there’s goonna be much of anything to find. An explosion of that size . . .”

“He’s here!” Ray insisted. “He’s gotta be!!”

Schwoz looked down, noticing the shoe in Ray’s shaking hand for the first time. “Ray . . .”

“NO!” Ray turned around and continued digging through the horrific pile of flame once more.

Schwoz sighed and glanced back the way he had come. The mostly clear path was being closed in by more flames. Soon the entire area would be untraversable. Ray paid Schwoz and their surrounding no mind. He just kept clawing at the wreck, mumbling to himself.

“I found the shoe. The shoe will show me the way. I’ll save him. I’m the hero! I save people. I’ll save him and then it won’t be so silent, and I won’t have to fight the air alone. The shoe, see. The red and the shoe!”

Ray was never going to give up, Schwoz realized. While logic had never been Ray’s strong suit, it had completely abandoned him now. Schwoz didn’t want to face the truth either. He didn’t want to face much of anything at the moment. He didn’t want to face a burning wreck, or a manic superhero, or- or a charred, small corpse. But if he didn’t face it he was going to lose Ray. Not now. Not right after . . . Well, Schwoz would never be able to recover from losing them both.

Schwoz took as deep of a breath as the smoke would let him. He looked around searching for something specific. Upon finding it, Schwoz bent down, grabbing a metal bar that had been fairly secluded from any of the fires and therefore not too hot to handle.

“I’m sorry, Ray . . .” Schwoz apologized, and then he swung.

Ray had barely even started to turn before a flash of silver came into his peripheral view, and the world went dark.

Chapter Text

There were very few times in Ray’s life as scarring as the day that Drex had first broken out of jail. The trap that Drex had laid for Captain Man in the bakery they both used to love had left Ray with a box locked on his head and another one securing his hands.

The confinements had kept Ray in a sensory deprivation hellscape. He couldn’t see the world around him, only pure shadow. Every sound that managed to sneak its way past the constricting box on his head sounded muffled and distant to Ray and he struggled to make sense of any of it. Yet the worst part by far was the boxy shackles encasing his hands. He couldn’t feel, touch or hold anything or anyone.They left him completely useless and vulnerable without his fists to solve things with.

And because of the sheer worthlessness of Captain Man, his Kid had to go fight one of the most terrifying monsters of Ray’s past all alone.

The days following the fight with Drex atop that cursed blimp reminded Ray of that solitary nightmare a few years back. When he woke from a forced sleep, he had found his hands once again encased, only this time in layer upon layer of thick gauze. Schwoz had wrapped his hands after he had knocked Ray out and got him to safety. Ray had no clue where they were at first. It didn’t look like any room Ray knew of in the Man Cave. Schwoz shrugged and said he had a couple safehouses around Swellview in case something compromised the Man Cave. Still groggy, Ray asked why his hands needed bandaged in the first place. Schwoz shifted uncomfortably before explaining that Ray had suffered a number of gashes and burns digging through hot, twisted metal.

Ray looked down at his hands, thankful he couldn’t see them behind the bandages. He wasn’t scared of blood or anything. Whether people realized it or not, Ray had witnessed many gruesome injuries and even bodies in his time as a superhero. No, what he couldn’t stand to face was his own failure. He had failed. Him and his stupid vulnerability.

Ray asked Schwoz to leave through gritted teeth. Schwoz spoke to Ray, but he didn’t process any of it. Eventually, it seemed that Schwoz gave up and left Ray alone.

That’s how most of Ray’s interactions went for the next couple of days. One by one, Charlotte, Jasper, and even Piper called Ray. Each time, he only picked up on bits and pieces of whatever they were saying through the thoughts in his own head screaming at him.

Piper was the first to call. She seemed angry, but she never yelled at Ray like he expected her to. Her anger seemed to lack its usual intensity, though. Like she didn’t have the energy to yell anymore. Only simmer alone. Her fury picked up for a while, though. She ranted about people being fake or something and not really wanting to be around them while they talked about someone they didn’t even know. Ray caught something about her saying she was going to move into her college dorm early, but she would call him later into the semester once she had gathered herself together.

Charlotte was next, though her call was considerably shorter. She informed Ray that she was moving to Dystopia to get away from everything, and so she’d have to quit her job. Not that there was any Man Cave for her to show up at anymore. Her voice was very monotone, but Ray picked up a few muffled sniffles every now and then. Ray only grunted in acknowledgement at her resignation.

Finally, Jasper’s contact glowed across Ray’s phone the night after Drex and . . . and the blimp. He was somber, but a lot more put together than either of the girls had been. He asked how Ray was doing, but Ray didn’t know how to answer that, so he stayed silent just like he had been ever since the crash. Apparently, Jasper was going with Charlotte to Dystopia to fulfill some promise about looking after her, but he said something about only being a phone call away if Ray needed him, too. He also mentioned how he was sorry he wouldn’t be able to make it tomorrow since his flight with Charlotte was booked earlier in the day, but he hopes it goes well. Ray didn’t know anything was even planned tomorrow.

After the series of calls, all Ray wanted to do was hide under his bed covers and turn his phone off. Couldn’t people tell he didn’t want to face anyone right now? Apparently not, as Schwoz also deemed it important to try to coax Ray into a conversation. He showed up in Ray’s temporary room, asking if Ray was wanting to go to some city-planned funeral for Kid Danger.

Ray’s heart launched up into his throat. He couldn’t. He just- Ray looked down at his hands, still swallowed by about two inches of gauze. His mangled hands. His traitorous, useless hands. If he went, they’d know. They’d all know that he failed. They’d see his broken hands and they’d know he wasn’t good enough. That he wasn’t the hero they thought he was. That he didn’t deserve Swellview or- or Kid Danger.

Ray shook his head no, lying back down on his bed and facing away from Schwoz. He heard a sigh from the doorway, but Schwoz didn’t try to convince him. Only turning the light back off and closing the door. Finally, Ray was alone. He was undeniably, irreversibly all . . . alone.

*************

The next morning, Ray thought he’d be left undisturbed. Everybody still in his life had said their piece or given up trying. Ray didn’t know what time it was, only that it must be some time after 10am since Schwoz had already come to check on his bandages for the morning. He hadn’t even managed to drag himself out of bed for the day to close the irritable curtains Schwoz had opened because he ‘needed light to make sure Ray wasn’t bleeding out’ before his door was opened without so much as a knock.

In strolled Jake and Kris Hart. Schwoz stood behind them still lingering in the doorframe. He had probably shown them in and directed them to Ray’s room, the traitor. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead just closed the door, leaving the three adults alone.

Ray wanted to ignore them like he had ignored everyone else thus far. But he had to face them. Even if they probably weren’t the best parents, he had gotten their son killed. They deserved to have Ray’s attention if they went as far as to show up in his bedroom.

Unsurprisingly, Kris was the first one to speak. “Hello, Ray.”

Ray swallowed thickly, only nodding his head hesitantly in greeting. A seasoned hero, and he was afraid of a suburban living middle-aged mother.

“We wanted to talk to you about some important things. We need some answers, and being the superhero and all, you’re the one in charge,” Kris said.

Ray was surprised she hadn’t started screaming yet. He was supposed to be the hero. The responsible one. Yet she remained calm. In fact, she seemed the most unshaken out of everyone Ray had talked to so far. He envied her ability to come off as calm and collected while he hadn’t even said a word for two days.

“Jake and I have some questions about the funeral.” Ray’s throat closed up at that cursed word again. “At what point in the schedule are you going to reveal Henry’s identity? Should we wait until we’re called up on stage, or are you going to give us another sort of cue?” Kris continued.

“Can it be earlier in the program? I’ve been dying to tell my neighbor Phil that I was Kid Danger’s dad and I don’t know how much longer I can hold it in,” Jake finally chimed in, excitement clear in his voice.

For the first time since he left Swellview Mountain, Ray felt something other than empty. He felt full, even overflowing with rage. Dying? They were dying to tell people this secret they’ve kept for all of two days? A child was dead - their child - and they were already talking about him in the past tense like Henry was just a used car that was finally sent to the junkyard.

Ray got out of bed like it was the easiest thing he’s ever done. He slowly walked towards the two ‘parents’, leaving only about two feet between them. He clenched his jaw, thinking before he spoke.

“I’m not going to the funeral. But even if I were, I wouldn’t be telling the city who Kid Danger was. You’d do well to not tell anyone either. Ever.”

Jake bent his head to the side like a confused, idiotic dog. “Why not? How are people supposed to know where to send the condolence money?”

Ray clenched his jaw even tighter and a second later, there was blood on his bandages that was not his own. Jake looked at Ray in shock, a hand covering his nose as blood flowed out of it.

Kris stepped forward and grabbed Jake’s shoulder, guiding him back out the door, but Ray wasn’t done with them.

“What condolences could you possibly need? The city is paying for Kid Danger’s funeral. As for Henry Hart, will you even notice his absence? Almost five years, five years, he was out risking his life, and you never even paid enough attention to your own son to notice the bruises or broken bones! Do you morons even realize how dangerous it is to do what your son did? He faced things that would give you nightmares. If those people found out who his family was, they could come after you as some sick kind of revenge. They could go after Piper!” Ray spat more honest vitriol at them than he had even the cruelest of criminals. “If I ever catch you calling yourself Kid Danger’s parent - hell - even if you so much as call yourself Henry’s parents, I will hunt you down and I will give you a personal tour of the inside of a volcano.” Ray promised.

Ray’s stomach turned at the thought that by being Swellview’s protector, he had been protecting scum like this as well.

“Better yet,” Ray added. “Just don’t let me see you ever again, period. You’ve clearly got no ties here. Leave Swellview, and never return. If you’re not out of my town by the end of the week, I’ll make sure no one sees you ever again.”

Jake and Kris Hart scrambled toward the door, fear in their eyes. Ray watched them leave, glaring daggers the entire time. He followed them to the front door, grabbing the door to close behind them. Right before he did, he said one last thing.

“He deserved better than you. He deserved better than us all . . .” The door slammed shut.

Ray stared through the window as they got in their car and backed out of the driveway with more speed than was reasonably safe. It was only when he lost sight of the car down the road that he noticed the throbbing in his hand.

Shit, right. Not indestructible like his threats had suggested. Maybe it wasn’t just Jake’s blood on the bandages. The pain radiated throughout his entire hand, lingering in a way Ray wasn’t used to. Still, Ray didn’t regret it. He would destroy his hands a million times over if it meant protecting Henry. Ray had failed when it mattered most, but he would never let Henry down again. He would keep all that was left of Henry safe, even if it was only his memory. Even if Henry was gone.

Chapter Text

When Henry was about 7 years old, there was a festival that came to Swellview. He had begged to go to it for weeks after a classmate had bragged about already having tickets, and after countless deals of chores around the house and promising to leave Mommy and Daddy alone if they didn’t want to play - which was often - they finally said yes. It was his special day with his parents that he’d worked so hard for. Piper had been left at home with a sitter, so he had his parents all to himself.

The festival was bustling with activity. People filled the street lined with vendors selling all sorts of products from food, to jewelry, to toys. There was the occasional show as performers dazzled the audience with their unique skills in exchange for tips. Every step was a new sight, a new smell. Henry didn’t even dare blink in fear of missing something amazing.

Henry stopped when he spotted a man putting a flaming torch down his throat. The boy gasped audibly. Most of the audience applauded the man’s daring act, but the fire scared the 7-year-old. Henry reached back for his mother’s hand, meeting only air.

He turned around, looking for his mom. She wasn’t right behind him like he thought. He went on his tip-toes, scanning the crowd for either of his parents. Neither one of them was anywhere to be found. He called out for his mom and dad, fear creeping into his voice. No reply.

Henry walked down the street, thoughts of the fire man long forgotten. This was Henry’s fault. He had messed up. He was told not to wander off, and now he was all alone. He was supposed to be good. He had promised to be good. Mommy and Daddy were gonna be so mad.

A couple hours passed as Henry snaked through all the boots trying to trample him. He cried out for his parents, desperately trying to find them. The more time passed, the more angry his parents were probably gonna be and the more anxious Henry got. A lady heard him trying to locate his parents and asked if he was lost. She offered to help find his mom or dad, promising to keep him safe. Henry simply ran. He didn’t want to risk his parents wrath even more by getting someone’s help.

About 10 minutes after running from the nice lady, Henry spotted a familiar head of blonde hair at one of the jewelry stands. His mother picked up a sparkly bracelet with blue stones on it. Henry walked up to her, tentatively grabbing her hand.

“What do you think, can I sucker Daddy into buying it for me?” She asked Henry, holding the bracelet for him to inspect.

Henry swallowed thickly. “It’s pretty,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry. I should’ve stayed closer.” Henry tensed, hoping the apology would at least lessen her reaction.

“Huh? What are you on about? I swear, sometimes I don’t understand what goes on in that head of yours . . .” She shook her head and sighed before her eyes shifted to look behind Henry. “Jake! Honey, look at this, wouldn’t this be gorgeous with that dress I bought last week!”

“So this is where you two wandered off to,” Henry’s dad said, clearly avoiding talking about the bracelet.

The two adults continued their conversation, but Henry stopped paying attention to what was said. They hadn’t noticed. Part of Henry was relieved. If neither of his parents had realized he accidentally roamed away, they wouldn’t be mad at him for it. He wouldn’t have ruined their fun day by wasting it searching for him. Another part of Henry, the part he knew upset his parents, and that they repeatedly called ‘not very fun to deal with’ was still scared and craving comfort. He wanted to hug his mom and tell him all about his last two hours. He wanted to cry and tell them all about how lost and afraid he felt. He wanted to ask why he felt so lonely when he had never been in a crowd as big as this before. Instead, he just stayed quiet until they finally went home.

*************

17-year-old Henry still couldn’t answer his younger self’s question. He walked down some random street in Swellview, keeping his head down. There were quite a few people on the street for how late in the day it was. The icy sting of loneliness clawed at his chest as he walked past them all wordlessly. Henry hated it. He hated the way his stupid brain begged for one of them to notice him and offer to take him home, even as he actively avoided their eyes and made himself as small as possible as he walked along the street.

Eventually, Henry got tired of walking around aimlessly, afraid at every turn that he’d run into someone who recognized him. Or worse, recognized the late Kid Danger. Henry slipped into a random alleyway. He didn’t recognize it, which said a lot considering he had spent the last few years fighting criminals in all sorts of alleys. Henry sunk down against a brick wall, hiding by a large dumpster. It wasn’t any sort of decent shelter by any means, but at least he wasn’t visible from the street view. He could remain out of sight from everyone and everything.

And he did. For two days Henry called that miserable alley home. He didn’t eat. He barely slept, and when he did, it was constantly interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Henry would shoot up from his leaned back position, expecting someone to find his safe haven, only for them to throw something in the trash without even coming near his side of the dumpster. He only really moved from his hiding spot once to try drinking from a puddle a little further into the alleyway before coughing most of the water back up and deciding that was enough puddle water for a lifetime.

If Henry was being honest with himself, he was waiting to die. His head had been pounding since he had walked away from the crash site, and he kept getting light-headed and his thoughts would get hazy. Every time the fog crept into his brain, Henry thought he was a goner. But after two days, the marching band in his head wasn’t his only sign of impending death. That gulp of water hadn’t been nearly enough to satiate Henry’s thirst, and his throat was starting to throb with how dry it had gotten.

As Henry tried desperately to soothe his aching throat with the little bit of saliva he had left, he questioned what he was even doing here. Was he really going to stay in this alley forever? Was he really prepared to slowly rot in this alley all alone? Henry really didn’t know what he was supposed to do anymore.

Up on that blimp, staring death in the face, Henry had felt like - for once - he did what he was supposed to. He hadn’t been a perfect hero. He was terrified, selfishly wishing that he didn’t have to die. But regardless of his fear, he had come to terms with it. Swellview needed Captain Man, so it fell on Henry’s shoulders to do what needed to be done in the moment. He didn’t regret a thing when he had pulled Ray’s parachute cord. If Henry had to die for him to live, so be it.

But there was no one to save now. By some miracle - or maybe some sort of punishment - Henry hadn’t died in that crash. He didn’t know how, but he hadn’t died. And what does he do with his life? Crawl into some alley to die instead. His resolve had faded away slowly with every throb that rippled throughout Henry’s body. Was he supposed to live, or was he always meant to die?

The sharp sound of crinkling paper pulled Henry out of his internal crisis. A crumpled up ball of paper had been tossed carelessly into the alley. It wasn’t the only piece of trash around, but something in the back of Henry’s mind urged him to look at it. Maybe he just wanted something to occupy his mind while he withered away. Some light reading, if you will. Or maybe it would give him an answer.

Henry crawled away from his hiding spot, joints feeling like they had fused into the curled up position he had been sitting in. He inched towards the paper, glancing towards the opening to the alley to make sure nobody was paying any mind to him. No-one was on the street anymore. Henry’s paranoia placated for the time being, he picked up the wad of trash and slowly unfurled the paper to see what was on it. Eyes glancing across the printed words Henry’s heart stuttered when he met his own eyes. There, on the paper, was a picture of him. There were words both above and below the photo, reading:

MISSING
Henry Hart
Age: 17
Please contact number below if found

The paper had been hard to read through Henry’s shaking, but the phone numbers were definitely his parents. He had gotten lost throughout his childhood enough times to know both numbers by heart.

Henry stared at the photo. It was his stupid Junior yearbook photo. He had been fighting Dr. Minyak when his picture was scheduled to be taken, so he had to sprint about 20 city blocks to make it before the photographer left. As a result his hair was wildly out of place and he had still been gasping for breath when the photographer quickly snapped the picture before promptly saying he was done with photos for the day.

Henry tossed the missing poster back onto the ground, not liking the weird gnawing feeling in his stomach whenever he looked at his own photo. Still, the paper had burned its way into Henry’s brain. The word ‘MISSING’ blared in his mind.

Why was there even a missing poster of him in the first place? Didn’t everyone think he was dead? Why would anyone be looking for a ghost? Unless they didn’t think he was dead. Had his parents been searching for him this entire time?

Henry shot up, hand bracing against the brick wall to catch himself when once he realized he was not in any condition to be doing anything so quickly. Still, he put one foot in front of the other, finally leaving that god-forsaken alley. If people had been looking for him this entire time, he didn’t want to make them wait and worry for a single moment longer.

He didn’t realize it until after he had started walking down the street, but Henry had been camped out in the alley of an auto shop he recognized. An auto shop that was by his neighborhood. All this time, he had been only about a 5 minute walk from his house.

The 5 minute walk quickly devolved into a 20 minute crawl as Henry stumbled down the street. The haze that had plagued Henry’s mind for the past two days came back with a vengeance. It was hard to remind himself of which turns to take as his mind often wandered away from the real world.

All he could think about was how worried his parents were. He’d been gone for a few days now. It wasn’t the first time he had disappeared for an extended period of time without telling them first. Being a sidekick sometimes meant hours trapped somewhere without cell service. Yet, despite all the times Henry had to be away from home, his parents had never really called, let alone been worried enough to make missing posters for him. They would’ve had to take hours of time out of their insanely busy schedules for him. Henry had to get to them. He had to tell them he was okay. Well, that he was alive.

Henry almost missed the turn for his street, but snapped back to reality just in time. He made his way to his house, hating the way his parched throat ached as he passed his neighbor’s house with the sprinklers going. He had to get to his family and let them know they didn’t need to bother with the search anymore, and then he could have all the water he wanted from the kitchen faucet.

Henry stumbled for a moment, thinking he had stopped at the wrong house. On the lawn was a ‘for sale’ house sign. Henry looked back at the house, double checking it was. That was definitely his house. He shook the confusion off. It wasn’t the first time his parents had made life-altering decisions without telling him first. He’d ask them about it later after he was inside.

The stairs to the front porch proved to be Henry’s greatest obstacle yet. He almost tripped on two of the steps, and there were only three total. Somehow, he managed to avoid landing on his face. Henry paused, wondering if he should knock or just walk in. He glanced through the window to see if anyone was even in the living room currently. Nobody was there. In fact, nothing was there. All the furniture and decorations were gone. It was empty. His home was empty.

Henry looked back at the ‘for sale’ sign with a growing uneasiness. That’s when he noticed the phone numbers. They were listed as Jake and Kris Hart’s numbers, but they weren’t the ones he remembered. The phone numbers were new. Completely different from the one’s on the missing poster.

They had left. Henry’s parents had left without a word. They thought he was missing, and they had changed their number and moved without any way for him to find his way back to them. Henry had been lost so many times in his life, but he always found a way home. He always knew where to go eventually.

Henry cursed himself internally. Why did he think they would care? Why would they suddenly care now? They’d never been the ones in his life to guide him back home. He’d always had to come crawling back to them. He’d never been good enough to deserve their worry. Why did he think he’d suddenly proven himself now? Because he risked his life once? He’d screwed up way too many times for that one noble moment to outweigh everything else.

Two days Henry had been lost in his own head in that alley. Two days he had been unsure what he was supposed to do or where he was supposed to go. He sat there contemplating whether he was meant to have made it off that blimp. He had begged the universe for an answer. For any sort of sign or path. Now, staring at the barren home, Henry finally had his sign. He was meant to die.

Chapter Text

Grief was a foreign concept to Ray. The closest equivalent he could manage was the weird swirl of emotions in his chest when someone asked about his mother when he was younger. Ray could never answer the nosy questions posed by adults who were just as unknown to him as his own mother. He was only 2 when it became just his dad and him. Technically, Ray wasn’t even sure if she was actually dead. His father refused to talk about the woman, not even using her name in any of the brief moments she became the topic of conversation.

So, grief could not quite be used to describe that mystery. Maybe confusion, or anger, or, perhaps most notably, a sense of longing. But never truly grief. The two emotions did share something in common, though. A deep emptiness. A nagging in the back of Ray’s mind that something was missing. A feeling that the picture that was Ray Manchester’s life wasn’t quite complete. That absence had never passed, even as Ray grew into adulthood and spent the next few decades stopping robberies and disarming bombs as Swellview’s resident superhero. Countless years, and the longing had never gone away. God, Ray hoped grief was different.

He was already on the way to getting past the grief, hopefully. Ray had managed to break himself free of the self-inflicted prison he had called his bed these last few days, though it had been no easy feat, and Ray surprised even himself at accomplishing it. Astonishingly, Ray had even left the house. Despite Schwoz’s protests, Ray had decided to make his return as Captain Man. It was his job, after all. He had been reminded recently just how important of a job it was.

His hands still weren’t fully healed, but the bandages were now thin enough that Ray could at least hide them under the gloves of his uniform thanks to whatever weird healing cream Schwoz had been giving him. Ray had promised not to pick any unnecessary fights, considering a single punch could reopen countless wounds. What was more cause for concern; Ray’s indestructibility wasn’t quite back yet. But after much convincing and a few vague threats, Schwoz eventually relented and let Ray go out, even if the shorter man was wringing his hands restlessly as Ray got dressed and left.

It was a routine patrol. Or, well, it would have been if it weren’t for the odd silence blanketing the streets. Granted, it was barely even approaching the cover of night, but no one seemed to be attempting even a petty theft. In fact, even the cats seemed hesitant to get themselves stuck in trees. The city seemed almost . . . lifeless. There were fewer pedestrians out than usual, but even the ones Ray did spot only gave him a slow nod with an oddly sad smile before continuing down the sidewalk. Ray should’ve been offended that no one wanted to stop and give him all their attention, but he was weirdly grateful not to have to talk to them. He barely even felt like talking to Schwoz yet, and that was only if they didn’t talk about Hen- about anything too serious.

As he wandered the streets of the city he was supposed to protect, Ray began to wonder if this was just what Swellview was like when there wasn’t any danger for Captain Man to swoop in and thwart. He honestly couldn’t say he had gotten out much as either Ray or Captain Man and just taken a stroll around town. He had assumed there’d be more people and noise filling the streets. Maybe he just didn’t know his own city. Ray did have a tendency to ignore things he didn’t find interesting or important.

That was a bad tendency to have, and so Ray tried his hardest to start paying more attention. He took everything he could in as he walked. There was a young woman walking four dogs on the other side of the street. She looked unsure about handling the energetic creatures, like she hadn’t been prepared to deal with that much responsibility. The sidewalk was decently cracked and in need of repair. There were only a couple trees planted by the walkway, too small to provide any true shade. Pinned to a local noticeboard was a missing poster for Henry Hart.

Ray stopped mid stride. He stared at the poster, Henry’s unblinking eyes seeming to stare right back. It was the first time Ray had seen the boy’s face since he had felt that parachute steal him away high into the night sky. It was objectively a horrible picture, but Ray couldn’t help the small upturn of his lips at the sight of Henry’s crazy, wind-swept hair and slightly lopsided smile. The picture was probably at least a year old, considering the slightly higher concentration of baby fat still clinging to the kid’s cheeks. Not that Henry has completely outgrown the chubby cheeks. He’s still a kid. Was a kid, Ray reminded himself.

Ray ripped his eyes away from the photo, his previously fond smile dropping. He instead chose to look at the words surrounding the image. A familiar anger bubbled in Ray’s chest as he read. Particularly at the word ‘missing’. As if a friendly neighborhood search party would band together and bring his Kid back. As if Henry was just some angsty teen who’d ran away to some gang hangout or a back alley. As if he wasn’t truly gone . . .

Ray scowled at the poster. Why was it even here? Other than to piss off Ray. Everyone who loved Henry and would’ve noticed his absence knew what happened. Even his good for nothing parents now knew Henry’s identity and subsequently, what he had sacrificed. His parents . . . Ray’s jaw clenched. Of course it was them. They were probably covering their bases in case someone asked about the son they were supposed to take care of. Couldn’t risk their ‘perfect’ reputation, after all. Hell, they were probably hoping reporting him as missing made them seem even more pitiable come the supposed announcement of Kid Danger’s identity they had clearly been expecting.

His rage reached a boiling point, and before Ray could contain himself, he ripped the paper off the noticeboard. How dare they? How dare they pretend to care, as if they hadn’t constantly ignored Henry’s repeated prolonged absences or scattered bruises acquired during his hero work? How dare they play the part of the worried parents knowing their son was dead, and no missing poster could fix the terrible reality Ray now found himself in? The posters were a cruel form of deception, and Ray wouldn’t let it stand. They were cruel to Ray, forcing him to look upon his biggest failure when he least expected it. When he was just barely learning how to breathe again. They were cruel to the innocent, good-hearted civilians that would no doubt, worry about and try to find a kid who could not be found. And above all else, they were cruel to Henry. An impersonal photo printed as an empty, manipulative gesture and distributed throughout a city that would never, could never know what this boy had done for it. Ray crumbled up the offensive paper and flung it as far away from himself as he could, down into a dark alley where no one could ever see it again and make the mistake that Henry Hart’s parents ever cared for or deserved that sweet, innocent boy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray went back to his and Schwoz’s current safehouse in a worse mood than he had left it in, which was saying a lot considering he hadn’t been in anything close to a good mood since he’d watched those elevator doors close on Henry, the boy’s gumball tube clenched tightly in Ray’s trembling fist.

The disgruntled man grabbed his own gum and chewed one angrily as the door to the safehouse slammed shut, ignoring the way his stomach rolled at the feeling of the gum in his mouth in a way it hadn’t previously done before. Ray felt a little lighter as his superhero garb was engulfed in an odd light and then replaced by the casual clothes had been lounging in earlier. The costume change did have a downside as he no longer had gloves to cover the appalling bandages wrapped around every inch of his hands.

Clothes taken care of, Ray headed towards his bedroom to hide away again. He’d seen more than he’d need of the world today, and his bed called to him once more. Ray walked down the small hallway, longing to cocoon himself in the plain beige comforter he’d become all too familiar with in the past few days. He passed by the small, mostly unused kitchen on his way to his destination, unexpectedly stopping when Schwoz’s rushed voice became audible.

“I toold you, he’s really boosy right nohw. He’ll see you soon. I proomise.” Schwoz paused, as if listening to some unheard reply.

Ray inched closer to the kitchen door frame but remained out of sight. He was just curious, is all.

“I knohw how importeent it is. And he’ll hulp just as soon as some other things are taken cahre of, it’s just-” Schwoz cut off abruptly, before sighing. “He’s Captain Man, of course there are other things he has to take cahre of. Just hang oon a lihttle loonger. I’ll call you soon.”

Ray stepped into full view of the kitchen just as Schwoz hung up his phone. Ray crossed his arms, giving Schwoz an icy stare. The accusation hung in the air unsaid.

“Ray! I didn’t theenk you’d be bahck from patrol quite yet. Are you hungery? I was theenking of ordering Chinese.” Schwoz rambled.

“Who was that on the phone?” Ray asked.

“Hmm?” Schwoz blinked slowly back at the taller man.

“Who was that on the phone?” Ray asked again, a sharp edge entering his voice.

“Noobody. You dohn’t need to woorry about it yet.”

Ray gave a humorless laugh. “Considering they were asking for Captain Man - which is me, in case you forgot - I think I do.”

Schwoz swallowed thickly. “Ray, I really dohn’t theenk it’s good for you to knohw yet. They can wait. You need moore time.”

“Who’s they? Schwoz, if you don’t tell me what you’re hiding, I will find every illegal experiment you’ve ever conducted, and mail them in a nice little package to whatever government will lock you away for the longest amount of time.”

Schwoz just stared at Ray for a moment, as if analyzing something hazardous before deciding the best way to approach it. “You remeember those kids who heelped Hen-” Ray gave Schwoz a warning look. “Who heelped hold the Ohmegah weapoon so you could take down Drex?”

Ray simply nodded, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Weell . . . It seems there mahy have been some unfooreseen conseequences from their proxeemeety to the duhstabilized beams, and they mahy or mahy not have, poossibly, uneexpectuhdly, happooned to develop powhers.”

“Powers? Why would they be calling you about powers?”

Schwoz hesitated. “Becoose they want to fight crime, und they think they have the aboolity to doh so now.”

“Why haven’t you just told them no, Schwoz?” Ray’s heart stuttered as his words were steadier than ever. “Aren’t they like 10? That’s way too young to be fighting crime!”

“I theenk they’re lihke 13-”

“Still too young!” Ray said pointedly.

“Leesten, Ray. I wouldn’t be tehlling you this if I thooght there was any other option. I’ve barely been ahble to keep them from roonning off and fighting crime on their own for even a fhew days. They need guidance.”

Ray clenched his jaw. Guidance? As if he’d ever been responsible enough to truly guide anyone. He was only good for punching and posing.

“I know it's a loht to deal with soh soon,” Scwhoz continued. “Boot think about talking to them soon, ohkay? Even if joost to plahcate them for a lihttle longer.”

Ray had been intent on never talking to anyone but Schwoz ever again. Conversations were a minefield for sudden heartache lately. He definitely hadn’t been wanting to speak to any 13-year-olds that were in way over their heads, thinking they were invincible, and that crime fighting was all glamour and glory. Even after decades fighting crime, Ray hadn’t even understood the truth of this job until recently. It was a bloody responsibility that ended in nothing but broken hearts and scattered ashes.

Ray turned away from Schwoz, glancing out the window as he turned. His head froze, eyes lingering on a mountain with a black, treeless patch that plagued the otherwise picturesque landscape. Before long, saplings would grow in and begin to replace the trees that were lost, with or without the forest rangers help. Saplings that would know the dangers of fire and grow thicker bark to protect themselves. The soil that nurtures the new plants would be a mix of sustenance and soot, giving the tree all it needs to grow, but also a taste of that which can strike it down at a moment's notice.

“Fine,” Ray relented. “I’m not letting a bunch of kids anywhere near any actual villains, but I’ll do it. I’ll train them.”

Chapter Text

One of the most useful traits for a hero to possess is a lack of fear. That was one of Henry’s few redeeming qualities during his time as Kid Danger. Through every mission, every distress call, not much ever got to him. Faced with a room of poisonous snakes? Manageable. A burning building? No problem. Fighting four guys twice his size? Not even a tremble of the hand. Henry liked playing brave. He liked that everyone said Kid Danger didn’t seem afraid of anything. But if he was being honest with himself, he’d been afraid of something for as long as he could remember. Henry had always feared being alone.

It was an ironic sort of fear, considering his childhood was full of moments where there was no one else around to fill the silence. Loneliness was one of his earliest emotions. It was his only companion when he had no other. But at 13 years old, Henry got his deepest wish. Though it had seemed impossible before, the loneliness that clung to the tragic boy day in and day out began to recede until it was nothing more than a whisper that was easily drowned out. Henry took a part-time job and suddenly he was almost always surrounded with people to talk with. People to laugh with.

Every time the loneliness would creep in and Henry’s heart would start to race, Ray would appear with some goofy scheme or odd remark. He’d be by Henry’s side, even when Henry messed up. Sure, sometimes Ray would get mad and be petty for a while, but he’d always be back. He’d forgive Henry in a heartbeat when he got bored of acting out. Ray could be incredibly dramatic, but, weirdly, Henry respected even that quality of the superhero. Whenever Henry was angry or scared about something, it would quickly shift into shame, paranoid that he was overreacting and ruining other people’s day. That lurking shame started to fade once Henry realized Ray never called him dramatic, or childish or ‘too much.’ In fact, Ray would double down and be even more outraged than Henry. No matter how insignificant Henry’s dilemma, Ray would make it seem like the most important thing they could possibly be dealing with, and they’d deal with it together.

For the first time since he was 13, Henry had truly fallen into the deep end of his oldest fear. The loneliness cascaded over him, spinning him round and round until he couldn’t remember which way was up. A chill clung permanently to Henry that couldn’t be combatted with any jacket or cozy fire. Blood rushed in his ears - deafening as a tidal wave - to the erratic rhythm of his racing heart. His lungs spasmed every time he tried to let in air. Henry’s throat remained as agonizingly dry as it had been when he found that stupid poster in a dim alley, and yet he felt like he was drowning.

Henry was drowning, and there was no more lifeguard on duty to drag him to the surface and remind him to just breathe. No soothing hand rubbing the chill away from his spine. No strong arms wrapping him up close and pressing his head against a chest where inside lay a steady pulse that slowly settled Henry’s own panicking heart. There was no hero in sight.

Henry staggered aimlessly down the streets of the city he was meant to protect, knowing no one would be scanning those same streets searching for him. After all, he was dead. There should be no one left to rescue. Except he wasn’t dead. He was hungry, and tired and confused, but he wasn’t dead. He hurt too much to be dead.

Everything passed in a blur as Henry continued walking with no destination in mind. For all the years Henry had hated being glanced through instead of at , that’s exactly how he was treating the world around him now. He registered enough to not trip over a curb, but not enough to notice or care about the fading red paint that coated it, or the ‘no parking’ written across the curb in blocky white letters. People and objects were simply there to avoid, not interact with. He floated through the hazy city for hours until his heart followed the sure rhythm of his steps and his lungs took their fill of the clean air around him.

With his breathing under control, Henry noticed the burn that followed every time his parched throat was coated with air instead of water. Grabbing at his throat absently, Henry took his first actual look at his surroundings. He was on some sort of downtown street with some small shops. The street was empty, probably due to the sun in front of Henry starting to set below the horizon. The stores looked mostly closed, but there was a large grouping of trees and grass ahead of Henry on the other side of the street. A park. Feet finally going faster than the shambling Henry had been opting for previously, he went towards the park.

About ten feet into the park stood what Henry had been hoping for. He pressed down on a button hard and almost instantly fresh water came gushing out of the public water fountain. Henry bent down slightly, way more excited by the sight than he probably should be, and gulped down the running water greedily. It passed by his cracked lips and coated his aching throat with soothing, cool water. He stayed like that for a while drinking the glorious liquid, pausing only to catch his breath every now and then.

Mind clearer and stomach full of water, Henry eventually relented his onslaught on the fountain and sat down, back pressed against a nearby tree. He hadn’t realized how long he’d gone without water. He’d been zoning out too much recently, ignoring even basic needs. Thankfully he wasn’t that hurt, and his wounds had been starting to heal despite his lack of care or attention, but his body couldn’t just manifest things like food or water. Henry’s stomach grumbled at just the thought. Henry bit his lip softly. Water was available easily enough, but Henry had no idea where he was supposed to find something to eat.

What he wouldn’t give for an auto-snacker. That machine in the Man Cave had saved Henry from hunger on countless occasions. It could make anything. Nachos, hotdogs, Macaroni. Henry was so desperate for some chicken and mashed potatoes that he could practically smell it. But there was no food in front of him. There wasn’t any mystical machine to whip up whatever he wanted. There was no Man Cave because it had exploded the same night he was supposed to.

The one place Henry thought he could always run to if he was in trouble was gone. That hadn’t really sunk in until Henry was leaned against a tree, so hungry he was considering just eating its bark. His parents sold the house he grew up in, and the cave in which he had grown didn’t even exist anymore. His stomach dropped with the realization that he had absolutely nowhere to go and no place to call home.

Except, that wasn’t exactly true, because, as corny as it sounded, home had never felt like a place to Henry. Home hadn’t felt like anything, until Henry met Ray. People would talk about how home was safety and love, and Henry didn’t know what they meant until he was 13 and learning how to dodge on a cushioned mat in the Man Cave gym. Or when he was sitting cross-legged on a circular couch with his back leaning against Ray’s shoulder while watching Dog Judge.

He may have lost his usual places to sleep, but Henry hadn’t lost home. Ray was out there somewhere. And Ray had lost his place to rest, too. Maybe he was also wondering where to go. Maybe he knew what to do. Not for the first time, Henry cursed his lack of phone. He had no way to contact Ray, and no clue where he was. The Man Cave was the only place Ray really hung out if he wasn’t dealing with hero stuff. Perhaps Junk N’ Stuff was still standing. At least they’d have a roof over their heads while they figured everything out.

A new destination in mind, Henry stood up. He could almost hear the way his back creaked at the motion. Henry allowed himself a moment to stretch out his joints before glancing at a street sign to get his bearings and heading down the road towards a more familiar place.

Henry’s heart was gripped with anxiety as he walked. What if Ray wasn’t there? What if he was, but Henry scared him by showing up unannounced? What if Ray tripped at the sight of him and fell into one of the probably-not-legal sharp objects being sold in Junk N’ Stuff? Ray wasn’t indestructible right now, presumably, so he could get very hurt.

But another emotion clawed at Henry’s heart as well. Hope. Because what if Ray was waiting for him? What if Ray had everything figured out? Everything but where to find his Kid. It was that part of Henry’s heart that won out as he made his trek across town once again, and the feeling was vindicated as he rounded a corner and the store he’d worked at for the past few years was there, standing tall. The building looked unharmed from a street-view.

Henry walked to the front door and grabbed for the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. Henry wasn’t surprised. It was late and the store hours were definitely passed, if the store had even been open amongst any of the chaos of the last few days. Henry dug behind a bush for a fake rock hiding a key. It had been there as long as Henry had been a sidekick. Henry quickly learned the reason of which was because Ray was horrendous at remembering his keys. Key acquired, Henry unlocked the door and headed inside.

Junk N’ Stuff looked no more messy or unkempt than it usually did. The piles of oddities were unorganized and placed around half-hazardly, but didn't look unnaturally disturbed or toppled. The slightly grimy walls and floors seemed structurally sound. If a customer walked in, they would have no reason to suspect multiple detonations had gone off right below the store a mere few days ago.

With the building still upright both inside and out, the hope blooming in Henry’s chest grew. Junk N’ Stuff wouldn’t be plausible as a long-term residence or base, but it would definitely work short term by the looks of it, which meant Ray or even one of the others was probably around here somewhere.

Henry headed towards the back of the store where the elevator doors to the Man Cave could be found. He pressed the button indicating down. Unsurprisingly, the elevator made no indication that it was operational anymore. If the explosions were big enough to take out multiple Man Caves, then it definitely would’ve damaged the elevator, too.

Plan A an expected failure, Henry glanced around the back of the store instead. There was no indication that anyone had set up camp back here. No sleeping bags or packs of essentials. Maybe they had set up at the front of the store where it wasn’t as cramped. Henry didn’t remember seeing anything, but he wasn’t exactly looking for signs of life, just lack of structural damage. Henry turned around to head back to the main part of the store, but stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a bell indicating the front door had been opened.

“Coome aloong, keeds,” Schwoz’s distinct voice carried all the way to Henry’s relieved ears. So they hadn't left!

“What is this place?” another voice asked. It was a higher pitch, probably a younger girl. It didn't sound like Charlotte or Piper, which was Henry's first assumption when Schwoz called his companions ‘kids.’ Unsure about the unknown voice, Henry stayed out of sight behind the store wall.

“A coover stohre for Captain Man's base. Weell, it woos a coover. The base is nohw inoperahble, but we may steell be able to salvahge soome things froom it,” Schwoz replied.

Henry's heart instinctively dropped at the identity-endangering words. He had to assure himself that Schwoz wouldn't be that reckless with information.

“Whoaa, a secret base? That is so cool!” Another, even higher voice squeaked. This one sounded vaguely familiar, but Henry couldn't place it.

“Oh, yeah. It was awesome! There were these, like, blinking lights everywhere!” a 3rd slightly lower but still young voice chimed in. How many kids were there? Who were they?

“Wait, he’s already been in the secret base?!” Yet another child said. “I thought we all became Captain Man’s sidekicks at the same time. Why is he getting special treatment?”

Henry choked on the spit he had only recently started producing again. Sidekicks? Why would Ray need new- Oh. Because Henry was supposed to be dead. That made sense. But it hadn't even been a week . . .

No. Henry refused to believe it. Maybe the kids were mistaken. Plenty of kids had run around playgrounds pretending to be Captain Man’s newest sidekick. He'll, even Invisible Brad had tried to kill Henry once because he wanted the position, and who knows how old that guy was. It never meant Ray had chosen them or that he had abandoned Henry.

“Noobody is getting spehcial treatment, Bose had to be taken there for his oown safety aht the time. Ray theenks all of you have incruhdible potential.” Schwoz’s voice was placating.

“Then why isn’t he training us?” The first unknown voice asked Schwoz. Well, more like accused him. There was an angry hint to the voice. Then again, they had sounded vaguely angry ever since they entered the store.

“Captain Man is busy setting oop your training. Like I said, the last base is noo longer fuhnctional. He is very excited to train you, though! He said you guhys are poossibly the brahvest kids he's ever seen. He wants to train you, Captain Man has joost been vehry busy after . . . recent events.” Schwoz's voice trailed off before going back to his usual chipper state. “Noow, let me check if the elevator is ooperahtional.”

Before Henry could even think about what he was doing, he scrambled behind some boxes out of sight like a frightened bunny. He was confused, and hurt, and he didn't want to face Schwoz. He didn't want to face anyone.

Henry tried to deny it at first, but it was true. Ray had already moved on. He didn't even attend your funeral, the voice in the back of his mind reminded him. Henry had been left behind before he was even in the grave. Replaced with at least 4 new kids who were apparently already more promising than Henry had ever been. Henry wanted to be mad. He wanted to be pissed that Ray had discarded him, just like Henry's parents.

But he couldn't be. He couldn't even muster up annoyance. He couldn't blame Ray. Captain Man needed a sidekick. An adequate sidekick that could actually help him on missions. Besides, Henry had abandoned Ray first. He had quit, spitting vitriol and hypocrisy the entire way out the front door. It didn't matter if Henry had come crawling right back to save Ray. He left first.

He didn't deserve to come back now. And so, sat with his knees pressing against his chest as tightly as he could, Henry stayed in the shadows. Even as four children excitedly chattered and danced around Schwoz talking about cool new powers and plans to ‘kick criminal butt’, Henry remained hidden. He stayed there the entire time these four strangers helped dig through the store Henry had grown up in, praying they wouldn't check the boxes Henry was using as cover. Thankfully, Schwoz called it a day after a couple hours, telling the kids to get back home to their families. Two things Henry didn't have anymore. Schwoz left shortly after, locking the shop back up, and yet Henry stayed crouched in his hiding spot.

Everyone was wrong about Kid Danger. He wasn't fearless. He was a spineless coward. He wasn't strong, or capable. He messed up constantly and had to be repeatedly saved. He wasn't even a good person. He abandoned and yelled at one of the only people who he thought understood him, and all over a stupid little piece of paper that would say Henry took some pointless classes and understood them to satisfaction. The only thing it seemed Swellview had gotten right about him was that Kid Danger was dead, and he was never coming back.