Chapter Text
Ryan
The ticking of the wall clock seemed abnormally loud in Ryan’s ears.
This always happened when he got really tired; his already hyper-aware senses sharpened themselves even further to try and overcompensate. He sighed and rose to his feet to refill his bottle at the water cooler, glancing up at the clock and noting absently that it was after 3am. The dream summer internship he’d earned at UCLA Medical Center’s pediatric ICU wasn’t quite so dreamy every time he had to work the graveyard shift, but Ryan was still incredibly grateful for it.
He had realized during his teenage years that the metabolism accompanying his Super-human abilities meant that he couldn’t get drunk, no matter how much alcohol he consumed, and caffeinated energy drinks also unfortunately had zero effect on him. So Ryan just chugged down more ice cold water, sat at his desk, and continued to work on his data analysis project for a few more minutes. Thankfully, the soft chime of the reminder on his phone reminded him that he’d soon be able to shadow his mentor, Dr. Karen Choi, on her rounds while she checked in on her patients.
She was always exactly on time, so Ryan wasn’t surprised when he glanced up and the doctor was already turning the corner toward his desk. He hurriedly rose to his feet, smoothing out the wrinkles in his khakis and ensuring his dark blue uniform polo shirt was neatly tucked in.
“You know most of our patients will be asleep, right?” Dr. Choi joked good naturedly. She was always impeccably dressed though – pencil skirt, high heels, white doctor’s coat, salt-and-pepper hair pulled into a low bun – so Ryan felt like he needed to be equally presentable even in the wee hours of the morning. “Unless you’re trying to impress me, kiddo.”
“No, I just…” Ryan blushed. “Wanted to be professional.”
“I’m just teasing ya. I appreciate your dedication,” Dr. Choi said earnestly. “You’d be surprised how many interns I catch asleep at the reception desk for 3:30 rounds.”
Ryan grinned as they reached the door to the first patient’s room and Dr. Choi gently pushed it open. The little boy, aged eight, was indeed fast asleep. The poor kid had been in a car accident just earlier that day and had broken his arm in two places, as well as sustained some serious head injuries. Ryan typed in his credentials to unlock the computer beside the bed while Dr. Choi checked the boy’s vitals and then quietly read off a few metrics for him to record in the electronic medical record.
Suddenly, the echo of an explosion filled Ryan’s ears and he sucked in a sharp inhale, wondering if anyone else had heard it or if his senses were still working on overdrive. But a split second later, the computer monitor and dim overhead lights flickered and went out for a few seconds before blinking back on.
“Power outage,” Dr. Choi remarked, looking worried as she moved over to the window and pulled apart the vertical blinds to peer out. “The whole city block is out.”
“Generators kicked on though, right?” Ryan asked quietly.
“I don’t think they did,” the doctor replied. “Backup generators usually turn the overhead lights a dim blue color.” She pulled out her cell phone to make a call – presumably to the building’s facilities maintenance department – as Ryan moved over to the window and tried to subtly use his x-ray vision to investigate what had happened.
Dr. Choi actually knew about Ryan’s powers. Recently imposed government regulations required all Supes to disclose the exact nature of their abilities on employment applications, but Ryan’s mentor had promised she would keep that knowledge to herself as long as he committed to not using his powers while on the job – unless it was an emergency.
As his eyes swept over the surrounding area, Ryan exhaled softly at the realization that a nearby transformer had completely blown out, indeed leaving several city blocks without grid power. He turned to Dr. Choi just as she ended the phone call.
“We’re running on battery backup,” she murmured, quietly urging Ryan to follow her out of the patient’s room. “The hospital’s generators malfunctioned.”
“Jesus Christ,” Ryan whispered. “How long do we have?” He remembered the oxygen mask on the young boy’s face, the heartrate monitor steadily beeping next to his bed, and the countless other patients undoubtedly hooked up to life-saving medical devices in the building.
“An hour at most,” Dr. Choi replied. “The utility company is dispatching a crew to fix the transformer, and hospital maintenance is working on the generator repair. But can you…?” Her half-formed question hung in the air between them for a few moments.
“I- I think so,” Ryan murmured. “I’ll need my brother’s help, though.”
“Be careful,” Dr. Choi told him. “I’ll keep an eye on the kids. Go… do your thing,” she added with a tentative smile.
Ryan nodded and hurried toward the fire exit, already pulling up Nick’s contact in the favorites list on his phone. He felt terrible for waking his brother at such an ungodly hour, but this was literally a life or death situation. Thankfully, Nick picked up after just a couple of rings.
“Ry, what’s going on?” Nick asked. “Are you alright?” His voice was rough and the call had clearly woken him up.
“I’m okay,” Ryan hurriedly replied. “But the power went out at the hospital. I’m working graveyard this week, and… the generator didn’t kick on. Battery backup only lasts an hour, maybe less. Can we do something to fix it?” He felt almost breathless as he tried to explain the situation as quickly and with as few words as possible.
“Yeah, I think so,” Nick replied. Ryan could hear rustling as he got up out of bed. “We’ll need to take a look at the main breaker panel to figure out the best approach.”
“I’ll come get you. Meet me in the courtyard outside your dorm.”
Ryan didn’t wait for his brother’s reply before sprinting up the stairs to the roof of the hospital and jetting up into the pitch-black night sky toward the USC campus across town.