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Swellview’s last Christmas tree burns into nothing in front of them. It fucking sucks, especially given all the effort he and Henry put into getting it — they had to fight off a dozen goons while driving a truck, goddamnit! — and Ray is on the verge of giving into his anger and kicking the stupid, tacky shed behind them.
Then his eyes meet Henry’s. The soot-streaked mask doesn’t hide the tears which have suddenly welled in his sidekick’s eyes, faint but still discernible in the orange light of the fire.
It gives Ray pause. For a second, he doesn’t see Kid Danger, hero of Swellview, sarcastic and witty and full of sangfroid. Instead, he sees the kid he picked up five years ago, who used to leap into his arms and cling to him with reckless abandon, who never exclaimed “Captain Man!” without a huge grin on his face and excitement bubbling in his voice. He sees the kicked-puppy look Henry used to get after a mission gone a little sour, an unspoken plea for comfort in his eyes.
He isn’t sure when that look faded away. He just knows it’s been years since Kid Danger sought that kind of reassurance from Captain Man; years since Henry would run to him for a hug.
Ray’s heart twists in his chest. The twist wrings out his anger and he’s left feeling strange; an echo of the old days creeping into the distance between him and Henry.
“Not our day,” he says lightly. He knows Henry will protest if he tries for a hug, so he slings his arm over Henry’s shoulder in a half-hug instead. It makes the burning of the tree a little less awful, and when he sneaks a glance at Henry, the unshed tears have disappeared.