Midnight Confessions

[Gizmo]

A long chord appeared in Trevor's slender neck as he resisted mightily the urge to clamp a hand over Mark's mouth. The situation was rapidly spiraling away from any chance for damage control, and they obviously needed to act quickly if his teammate's assessment was right. Stepping forward, he placed both hands on Erin's shoulders. "Listen to me. This isn't what happened on your world; these things were dead and buried." He looked intently into her eves, unblinking. "If it's even a fraction the same, we need you here, protecting the weaker students and talking us through this over the comlinks. You're in charge. Can you do that?"

[Electra]

"I should be out there," Erin told Trevor, color returning to her face in a near-feverish flush across her cheekbones. "Zombies are zombies, and nobody knows how to fight them like I do. This school is the safest place in the city once it's locked down, and I know you can keep track of every conversation any superteam has on your equipment. This isn't the time to be thinking about school regulations, peoples' lives are at stake." Already she was looking towards the walls as though thinking of leaping out there now, out of uniform and unarmed, just to be doing something.

[Avenger Assembled]

Seriously torn, trying to process what he was learning about his friend, Mark said, "My house isn't the safest place, and my mom's alone." If Trevor thought Erin should be off the frontlines, well...they were friends, right? They should know that sort of thing about each other. "And Trevor's grandpa," Mark hazarded. "Up in the mansion. Maybe if you help get our families together, and keep them safe? Somebody's got to protect them, whether it's here, or at the Hunter place, or wherever." He blinked. "There's not a cemetery on our block, I don't think...but there is that river..."

[Electra]

That idea seemed to pull at Erin a lot more than Trevor's suggestion to defend the school. "Well, your grandfather's house has security, doesn't it?" she asked Trevor, sounding more unsure. "We could send Mark's mom over there, and they could lock down. Zombies aren't smart... at least most of them aren't..." She thought of Dead Head and hesitated again. What if there were more like him, only with the hostility and aggressiveness of the zombies she knew? How long had it been since security there had really had a severe test? "We should definitely get your mom somewhere safer," Erin told Mark. "A normal house isn't enough protection." She would decide the rest later.

[Gizmo]

Trevor shot Mark a grateful look as Erin weighed the best course of action. Confident as he was in his grandfather's ability to defend himself, even at his advanced age, after the incident with Death Head and the kidnappings, he knew he'd feel considerably better once the manor was secure; most of its systems had been installed decades ago. After his part in Rick Lucas' departure, he felt a certain obligation toward the isolated Martha as well. He was rattled enough by Erin's story to seriously doubt his own judgment, but both the rational and emotional sides of his reasoning wanted to keep her as far away from the thick of this particular chaos as possible.

[Avenger Assembled]

For his part, Mark was looking more and more alarmed, visions of his family home being overrun by zombies growing more and more in his mind. "She could get to the defenses in the Trophy Room, but not all of those work, and even the Omni-Gun, the gun that shoots everything and makes it explode!, only has a few dozen shots in it! Oh God!" He blinked. "Erin, quick, grab us on your back and take us to my house! And then we'll grab my mom and jump to the Hunter house! That way, everyone will stay safe!"

[Electra]

"All right... here." Moving over to a nearby picnic table, the sort with attached benches, Erin upended it and gestured the others to get on. It was a flat surface with places to hold on, a lot easier than trying to carry three people on her back. "Get on here and hang on, we'll do this the fast way." Erin's color still wasn't looking too good, but from the set expression on her face, she was going to ignore whatever turmoil she was feeling until the job was done. As soon as her comrades had seated and secured themselves, she lifted the table over her head with no apparent effort and leapt off campus , landing in three quick bounds on the lawn in front of Mark's house.

[Avenger Assembled]

"Mom?" There was no sign of movement outside the Lucas house, but there was no sign of movement _inside_ either. Mark made a beeline for the back door, his friends in tow, and found his mother standing in the kitchen in gardening clothes, a wide-eyed look on her face. He knew the feeling! "Mom, are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm all right," Martha reassured Mark, patting him with her garden-glove covered hand, the faint stains on it covered with a light coating of pale dust. "I'm glad you came, though. Is it true what the news says, that it's the dead come for the living?"

"It's true, Mom, but we'll fight them," said Mark without hesitation. "We've just got to get you some place safer than this. We want to take you to Trevor's grandfather's house, the first Midnight? It's very safe there, very well-protected."

"You're right," agreed Martha with a nod. "The weapons here aren't enough if more than one or two show up. And I've already done this week's scripting, so I don't have any other work to do." With that usual air of consciously maintaining domesticity that they were used to from Mark's mom, Martha methodically removed her gloves and left them hanging from the sink. "I'm ready now."

[Gizmo]

Trevor didn't bother walking too far from Erin and the platform once Martha appeared; visits to the Lucas residence always has a surreal undertone which made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, to say nothing of the minute wisps of midnight mist. "Should keep moving," he suggested softly with a polite nod to Mark's mother.

One prodigious leap fueled trip later, the group set down on the lawn of the Hunter Estate. Travis Hunter was already standing in the double doorway, black turtleneck and slacks hanging on a wizened form who's slight hunch couldn't entirely hide the powerful build he's once possessed. Plain cane supporting him in one hand, the other stroked his neatly trimmed goatee as he squinted out at the new arrivals from behind wire framed spectacles. "Get inside, then, you lot. Quickly."

Leading the others into the mansion's large foyer, Trevor turned to his grandfather. "This is Mark, Jimmy's grandson, and his mother, Martha." He indicated the Lucases with a brief gesture. "And this..."

"Erin." Travis interrupted, leveling a deadpan expression at the auburn haired girl. "Reputation proceeds you, young lady." He gave his protegee a sidelong glance that may have contained the slightest inkling of a smirk. "Does remind me of Donna."

[Electra]

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Hunter," Erin said, distractedly remembering the barest of manners. "Trevor has told me all good things about you. Do you have a lookout post on your roof anywhere? I'd like to go up and keep an eye on things. There's a lot of activity in the city, but I couldn't get a good look at any of it while I was moving. We'll make sure that nothing gets too close to your house," she promised him. "If you have a safe room, though, it wouldn't hurt to go there."

[Gizmo]

Travis' grunt was the hollow, brittle shell of a chuckle. "To the point. Good." Gesturing with his cane, the aged man of mystery led the group to a grandfather clock at the far end of the foyer. Opening the glass door that covered its face, he moved both the minute and second hands counterclockwise to point directly upward. With a click, the entire clock depressed into the floor slightly, and the section of the wall it was resting against slid away, revealing a dimly lit staircase. He was about to start downward when Trevor coughed lightly and cast a glance in Mark's direction, shrugging all but imperceptibly at his grandfather's cocked eyebrow. With a level look in the Lucas' direction, the elder Hunter intoned gravelly, "Welcome... to the Midnight Manor."

Down the passageway, they enter a cavernous chamber, smooth, machined rock creating a cool sense of durability. The clock guarded door hissed shut behind them, followed by a trio of metallic irises. On the far side of the Manor sat row after row of matte black vehicles, some partially disassembled or covered by tarps, with further, rougher passageways leading further on. Closer by, an entire wall of old, tube style screens displayed every angle of the estate up above and several parts of the city at large. Trevor quickly moved past the others to man the brass and steel control panels, directing the cameras back and forth in search of immediate threats.

[Avenger Assembled]

"Mom, mom, you don't have to dust down here," Trevor and Erin heard Mark say, the twinge in his voice showing how often he'd had this conversation recently. "You can just look around, and see how nice the Midnight Cave is! Look, there's the giant silver dollar the first Midnight stole before the Aryan Ape could use it to summon a million silver apes, each more Nazi than the last!" Mark watched his mother, worried, as she relaxed and nodded, listening as her son gave her a tour gleaned from the knowledge of the Midnight Cave he'd gleaned from reading many, many Golden Age comic books. It had all been surprisingly accurate, too, back before about 1950 when Midnight had done his first renovations. _It was a different time_, Travis had explained once to Trevor about the now-repaired security breach.

On the streets of Freedom City, the dead had risen and were voting Republican! Or at least getting into mischief, which some might say was the same. The security cameras revealed a city in chaos, but not quite in jeopardy, heroes and policemen and civilians rallying to fight the slow-moving, shambling hordes. But gradually, though, a closer look across the city revealed other monsters: there was a giant undead hurling cars, there one extended a long tongue, and there one particular horde ran fast as lightning! It took several minutes to pick out all the threats across the city on the old monitors, and they were not pleasant minutes either.

[Electra]

Erin stared at the images, her face set, expression blank. "We have to get out there," she said to the room at large, clenching her hands at her sides. "This is a safe enough place, and people are going to die out there if we don't do something." She turned to Trevor, then Travis. "I don't have my bat, and it's not the tool for this job anyway. I need something long and bladed." She had every confidence that the engineer and the scientist would have something that suit her purposes.

[Gizmo]

Turning from the monitors, Trevor turned to Erin, his stoic expression clouded as he walked further into the chamber to a row of utilitarian metal lockers, opening the first to reveal a spare Midnight costume, including belt and mask. The cut of the jacket was closer to Travis' trenchcoat than the shorter one the young man usually wore, but he donned it without hesitation. His back turned to the other, he pitched his voice softly enough that he knew only Erin's enhanced hearing would be able to pick it up. "Not letting you out there on your own. Question is, can you trust me to take care of myself, or are you going to be distracted? Could get us both killed." His words were blunt, but an unusual stick in his baritone revealed how much difficulty he was having getting them out.

[Electra]

Erin hesitated, obviously torn as she watched Trevor suiting up for a fight. She looked at the monitor, then back at him, arms still hugged tightly to her chest as though she feared she might fly apart if she didn't keep a physical hold on herself. The zombies were out there, and she could fight them, wanted to fight them very badly. But she'd fought so many zombies, and it hadn't done a damn bit of good. It had never kept the people she loved safe. She couldn't go out there with him and hope to fight effectively. "If I stay here," she asked him softly, "will you stay too?"

[Avenger Assembled]

While Erin and Trevor had their moment, Mark got his mother settled in one of the control chairs, sitting alongside Midnight I. With his mom calmed down, Mark was able to relax a little, and focus on the presence of one of the world's greatest heroes. Frankly, that made it a little difficult to talk, or even think, but he was willing to work through it as some of his recent practice sessions triggered something in his brain. I can see them, right? So I should be able to... "Mr...uh, Mr. Midnight?" he asked the elderly Travis, "can you get all these pointing to zombies? Sir?" he asked, pointing to the screens. Watching his grandson's interplay with interest, the old man nodded, his age forcing him to actually turn and watch the work before turning back.

While the emotional moment went on, Mark stared at the zombies on screen: a good-sized mob of decaying corpses shambling their way past the locked-down First National Bank on Main Street. He began muttering under his breath "You don't belong here you don't belong here you don't belong here go away go away go AWAY!" At his words, suddenly the lead zombie exploded in a shower of black bubbles, startling the whole horde into immobility for a moment. A second later, he blew up another one. "Boo-yah...I mean, uh..."

He shot a look over at Erin and Trevor, pulling himself out of zombie-killing mode for a moment, and said simply, "Hey. You guys are my best friends, and the best heroes I know. It's not my place to tell you what you should do, but I know you'll do the right thing. You're heroes. That's what we do." He looked back at the zombie screen and blew one up chasing a little kid. "I hate zombies!"

[Gizmo]

His back still turned to the others, Trevor froze at Erin's question, stricken expression hidden. All he wanted to do was answer 'yes', to assure her that he wasn't going anywhere so long as she needed him. But his city was under siege, Midnight's city, and every minute he hesitated, someone else might lose the person they needed standing beside them. Turning around with his mask still hanging from his belt, he moved tentatively to the auburn haired girl and wrapped her in a fierce hug before taking a half step back. "Erin, I... have to try." He lifted the featureless visage from his belt. "It's who I am. Have to go, but I will always come back. Too much to live for." The last was even quieter than his usual soft tone, as he brushed her cheek lightly with his free hand.

[Electra]

Erin didn't hug him back this time, keeping her arms folded across her chest as she turned her face to look at the monitors where Mark was picking off zombies as though it were a video game. She felt like she was going to be sick, which was quite a rare sensation for her, but there was work to do now. She could fall apart later, or do whatever it was she needed to do. "Then I need a weapon," she said again, her voice flat and strained. "I know you must have a few laying around here, and I'd rather not go out there barehanded. But you're not going alone."

[Avenger Assembled]

"I have a knife," said Martha suddenly. "Do you need a knife, Erin?" she asked. Reaching into her ample sleeve, she pulled out a shockingly sharp, wicked blade (at least by the standards of what you expected to find up Martha Lucas' sleeve) and showed it to her. Mark stared at his mother, shock overriding the confidence he'd felt after blasting the zombies.

"Mom...why do you have a knife?" Mark hadn't mentioned his constant worries about his mother's sanity to his friends much, but it was certainly on display now. No, no, surely she had perfectly innocent reasons for carrying that big monster around.

"Well you know, dear, your father's gardening shears give me such a pain in my wrists, and I can't very well go cutting off daisy heads and go back and work at my easel," she said with a little shrug. "This might not help you much, though, it's not long enough to penetrate well."

"I...I think it's probably best if we keep that here," said Mark, swallowing hard. "I mean, Erin's really strong, you don't want to risk her breaking the knife. Why don't I just make her something she can carry if Trevor doesn't have anything handy?" He was sure Trevor did from the look on his face, but he wanted to distract himself as much as his mom right now. Maybe Mr. Hunter will be able to get her to make some soup or something...or maybe have a nap...

"Oh, very well, make her something," said Martha, "but make sure it's a shovel, a weaponized one, like that one your father brought home from Shamballa Vale." She caught her son's look and said, "A heavy blade to destroy the brain, but with one end sharpened for cutting and hacking. It's what you need in these situations." As a slightly shell-shocked Mark did just that, producing a Shaolin shovel for Erin, Martha confided to Trevor and Erin, "I've been very concerned about intruders in our neighborhood, so I've been doing research."

[Gizmo]

You're scum, know that? Trevor growled inwardly to himself as he moved away from the group under the pretense of restocking the spare costume. Could have kept her out of danger. No frame of mind for combat. The angry mental growl differed from the usual sly voice of self doubt, he noted distractedly as he swapped a pouch a tear gas pellets out for incendiary bombs. At least you managed to make a fool of yourself with that hug. What did you think was going to happen? Ah, there it was.

"Why don't you have a seat, madame?" Travis suggested with an odd, quiet charm that worked better with his elderly features than it did on his grandson. "I'll make some tea." Rising with his cane, he walked slowly, pausing as he reached Mark to ask pointedly, "Does you mother have any allergies to medications, boy?"

[Electra]

Erin took the shovel and made a few testing practice feints, learning the weight and balance of it. She'd never used anything quite like it before, but she was pretty sure she could fight with it just fine. Anything that gave her extra reach was good. Mark's mother, on the other hand, did not seem to be good at all. She was making Erin distinctly nervous, as a matter of fact. But Travis seemed to have that under control. "Are you coming," she asked Mark, "or are you going to stay and work by remote?"

[Avenger Assembled]

"Uh, no sir," said Mark, shooting a look at Travis Hunter. "She takes Valium before bed," he confessed quietly to the old man, "sometimes...sometimes a lot, but the pharmacy was closed yesterday and I don't think she was able to make it there before we got here..." Martha was sitting quite contentedly by herself, having politely thanked Travis for the offer of tea, but she reached up to give Mark a big hug. "I love you, Mom," Mark murmured to his mother. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop this before it started, or keep you safe at home."

"It's all right, dear," said Martha seriously, looking up at her tall son. "Mark, I know that your work is very important to you, and to the world. You and your friends will save the day, and you'll save the city. Just like you'll save Mr. Hunter and I. Don't blame yourself for any of this." She took her son's hand and focused on him as if by sheer force of will. "You go with your friends," she said. "I'm in good hands here."

"Okay, Mom," said Mark, bending down to kiss his mother's cheek. "I love you." Passing Travis, he murmured softly, "Thank you for watching my mother, sir. You're still a hero to me." He went over and joined his friends, pulling his mask down over his face. "Okay, people," he said, flexing his fingers. "Our city's in peril. People are suffering. Let's go save the day."

[Gizmo]

Travis gave Mark a look of muted bemusement before nodding slightly in acknowledgment. "We'll stay near the monitors," he told Trevor calmly, as close as he'd ever get to wishing his protege luck and telling him to be safe. The sentiment wasn't lost on the young man who responded with a similarly taciturn nod as he pulled his featureless black mask over his face and replaced his fedora atop his head.

Forcing himself to focus, Midnight stepped in beside Edge. "Teleport," he suggested brusquely, drawing his escrima sticks and flexing his grip.

[Electra]

Erin stepped up on Mark's other side, forming a shallow triangle like the people on Star Trek before they beamed up. It was a sound tactical move, if they got dumped into the middle of a melee, they were already in a position to watch each others' backs. For just this moment, though, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, searching for the calm that had been drilled into her over the past two years. She wished now that she hadn't dipped so deeply into her own memories today, and brought the past so very close. That wasn't what she needed right now. But Trevor was right, the ghosts from her home dimension and the school's restrictions didn't matter right now, not when lives were at stake. Especially his life... Hefting her shovel, she opened her eyes and stared once more at the monitors. "Let's go."