Chapter Text
Crash.
Rek groaned as he ever-so-slowly slid down the wall he had run directly into in his haste to get to bed.
He heard giggling from the room across the hall, and he scowled.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Leo. You couldn't learn any better than I did.”
Leo went out of the doorway to the kitchen with a grin. Rek rolled his eyes good-naturedly, reaching up with his hand to grasp the one Leo offered down to him.
“Come on, lighten up, Rek, I have good news!”
Rek raised an eyebrow. “If you're about to tell me about the pros and cons different arrow types have again, you know I'll listen, you don't have to sugarcoat it.”
Leo’s grin seemed to get impossibly bigger. “Nope! We’ve got a lead on how to get your little friend out of his tough spot. Now come on, they're waiting for us in the-”
Leo cut off with a yelp as Rek grabbed his hand and took off out the door.
“Hey, wait! I didn't even tell you where we're going yet!”
“-and you could've gotten that little boy injured, and then how would that look? Honestly, this is why we only send you four – or, sorry, five, out as cleanup or PR. Do you understand what you've done wrong?”
Jaron kept his eyes glued to the floor. “Yes, my lady.” He murmured along with the four other members of his team, the Kids In The Corner, or KITC.
From the corner of his eye, he could see Branzy's jaw clench, and 4c and Cube looked more unhappy than usual. Cherri still looks as impassive as ever.
Jaron internally frowned. What business do any of them have being upset with their Lady? She was just doing what was best for them, for the world – it's wrong. It's wrong, it is. Lady is kind. She is caring. Everything she does makes them, makes him, better.
He should tell on them. Lady doesn't know them well enough (she never tried to) to see the clear disobedience and wrongness of their attitudes. He should tell her.
… but he won't. He doesn't really want to – he'll just count the punishment for his disobedience the next time he gets punished when he's convinced to sneak into the kitchen past curfew.
Again.
“Oh, let it snow, let it snow, let it snooooow.”
Jumper hummed along cheerfully as she refilled the showcase donuts, soft fairy lights shining above her head.
The bell above the door rang quietly, just as she popped back up above the counter. A genuine smile graced her face as she saw who walked in, the man giving her a grin back.
“Hey, Ash!” She chirped, untying the knotted apron behind her head.
“Hey, Jumper. Quick question, why the fuck are you playing Christmas music in September?”
She sent him a smirk. “My shift, my music, and I say it's that time of year.”
He stared in horror. “Wh- no, no, no, are you fucking crazy? It is not Christmas time, it's not even Halloween yet – no, just – get the fuck out, your shift is over, I'm firing you.”
She laughed, hanging up her pink apron next to Minute’s plain black and Pentar’s red, covered with stickers some regular probably gave him, grabbing for Ash’s weirdly pattern purple one.
“Here, catch. Oh, and you can't fire me, we own the bakery together.”
He caught it gracefully (he almost dropped it twice) and rolled his eyes.
“Whatever, go do whatever you do when you get off work.”
She knocked at him and hopped over the counter, careful not to knock anything off (Pentar).
She was almost out the door when Ash called out to her one last time.
“Hey, by the way, have you heard from Minute?”
The blaring of sirens got louder and louder.
“Timekeeper, freeze! In the name of the law and the HCC, you are under arrest for vigilantism and petty crimes! Come out with your –”
Timekeeper is pretty sure he keeps talking after that – cops and heroes never shut up – but he was already gone, a hand swiped across a grandfather clock inside some poor soul's house and world tilted and twisted around him.
He blinked, shaking his head. God, he'll never get used to that. He glances around, taking in the giant gears, springs, screws, and everything else that makes clocks tick.
“Where is it, where is it…” he mutters, forgetting for just a moment that anybody outside can, in fact, hear him talking. He takes a glance outside and deducted that, unless the stupid giant hand is blocking his pursuers, nobody is out there.
He rips his eyes away and focuses again on looking for just the right – oh, look, there's the door. He rushes over and ever-so-slowly (seriously, grandfather clocks are like so heavy) pushes it open, revealing a series of hallways filled with doors, little address signs hanging above them.
Any man will get lost within three seconds if they don't know what they're doing.
Fortunately for Timekeeper, he does!
He takes off at a fast run, taking turns as if he's got a built-in GPS. Left, right, left, left, right, left, keep going straight, right, left, left, double back because you're stupid, left, enter here and pick your poison, baby, which clock are you picking this time?
He picks the clock hanging right above the bakery door and peaks past the hand (they're so annoying) to check for customers.
All he sees is a brown-and-purple haired boy and a brown haired girl, the latter with her hand on the door and head turned towards the boy.
“ – heard from Minute?”
The girl blinks, tilting her head. “Nope, he hasn't texted me since last night, why?”
The boy shrugs. “No reason, really, he's just supposed to be here in five–”
Just then, Timekeeper pops right out of his clock, right between them.
They scream. He screams back.
The girl tackles him to the floor. A pocket watch falls onto the floor and cracks its glass.
Oh, for fucks sake –
4c slams the door behind him, storming past Squiddo and popping face first on the couch. He wants to punch something.
A spring flies up and cuts his face.
He's going to scream.
Distantly, through the fog of rage and tiredness (and something that feels like guilt) he registers Cube talking softly with Squiddo, most likely about how the day had gone.
Clearly, it had gone well.
4c felt a tap on his shoulder, sighing and rolling over. Cube was crouched down to his level, Squiddo standing behind him with a small, reassuring smile.
“Hey there, 4c,” Squiddo chirped, “You’re looking cheerful!”
“No, he's not, why are you lying right now, he looks depres-”
Cube was cut off by a pillow slamming into his face, falling backwards with a streak.
Squiddo and 4c burst into laughter, 4c already feeling worlds better than he had just moments ago.
As he locked eyes with a grinning Squiddo, he felt a guilt seeping in. He sighed.
“Sorry for bursting in, Squids. Just a long, long day.”
She grins brightly at him. “No problemo, man! If I had to deal with your lady or whatever you call her, I'd be in jail!”
They both laughed, and 4c sighed back down on the couch, relieved that everything was okay with them.
Just as they were winding down, Cube popped his head through the kitchen door (when had he even left???) and shouted that dinner was ready.
Squiddo popped up, reaching down for 4c to take her hand.
“Come on, let's go taste Cubes radioactive spaghetti.”
“Hey! I didn't even make spaghetti, you –”
Light reflects off objects, but never in the dark. What is there to reflect? Light does not exist in the shadows.
Somehow, Prince still manages to have light reflecting off his crown.
It is so fucking annoying.
Seriously, how is he doing that? Did he take a college elective on how to be the most obnoxious motherfucker in the room? And people say he’s got attitude issues, seriously, at least he knows the art of a good stealth mission.
Mapicc rolled his eyes to himself, grumbling silently as he dropped down behind Prince, landing in a crouch.
Prince whirled around and suddenly his world went pure white.
Mapicc had heard about Prince’s powers, from his teammates and enemies alike- they whispered tales of blinding lights and powerful whirls of pure sun, but no story could compare to seeing it for yourself.
For a second, he even thought he was dead.
As soon as it started, it was over, and Mapicc was left with his head spinning and an afterimage that could blind him all over again.
Prince opened his mouth to talk, but Mapicc held up a hand in the universal one fucking moment sign (an open palm that turns into a middle finger), blinking rapidly until he gets to the point where he can kind of see.
He shakes his head one more time, bringing his annoyed eyes up to glare at Prince, who shifted guiltily.
“Uhm, sorry, Hypnos, you scared me.”
Mapicc glared one more time. God, Prince’s outfit matched his stupid crown and stupid power, gold jewelry and fancy suit to match his obnoxious attitude. But whatever, he has negotiations to do, if he fucks it up Ro’ll never let him do anything alone ever again.
“It’s whatever, man,” he grumbled, “Not like I need my eyes to see or anything.”
Prince laughed nervously, fiddling with his fingers.
“Yeah, uhm, hah, uhm. So, anyways, uhm– sorry, scatterbrained, you know?”
Mapicc raised an eyebrow. This is the guy who went out of his way to contact the two of them to talk? Mapicc shouldn’t even be here, he doesn’t even want to be here, but Ro’s word is apparently law now, so now he has to listen to a dumbass stutter for at least the next ten minutes, in which he has a viable reason to say he doesn’t have time for this and run away.
He’s very much looking forward to running away.
“Dude, get to the point, I have shit to do.”
“Right! Right, sorry. So…bear with me, here, don’t– don’t freak out and start cursing at me, or– or something, okay? Okay, okay. So, you know how, like- the Hero Commission Company is…doing things now, right?”
Mapicc rolled his shoulders and shrugged. “Yeah, yeah. We’re all very much aware that they’re overlords who control your lot or whatever. Your point?”
Prince scrunched his face up and reached up to fiddle with a small silver charm necklace around his neck, the only silver piece he seemed to have on him, with some weird looking reptile and a sword charm hanging down.
“Uhm, not– not exactly? Well, yes exactly, they are…uhm, controlling, but not in just, like, where we live and who we’re with– not anymore. They’ve gotten…uhm, worse, I guess. Yeah, worse.”
“Dude, are you gonna tell me anything or are you just planning on repeating yourself a bunch of times?”
“I– I am, okay, I just– listen, okay? I know we’re not– we as in you and I, not, like, heroes and villains or whatever, I know we’re not exactly friends. I mean, we’re not enemies or anything, but– listen, I’m just gonna say it. I want to join your team.”
Mapicc choked on air. What. He wants to what?
“You– you’re kidding, right?”
Prince frowns, rolling his shoulders back and standing taller than Mapicc had seen him the entire time they’d been talking. He couldn’t see his face, but his eyes were visible. There was a fire inside them, a fire he hadn’t seen in anyone since– well, since he had looked himself in the mirror the day after his father died.
“I’m sick of it, I’m sick of them, and I want myself back. I don’t want to be Prince anymore, I just want to be me. Me in all my fucked up, distrusting, stuttering mess I call glory. I’m done being a lapdog, being punished for doing nothing wrong, for standing tall and perfect while the people who are supposed to hold me up shoot bullets at the back of my knees like they have a bow and I’m a target. I’m done, Hypnos, and even if you and Hecate don’t accept me, I’m not going to stop searching for somebody who will, for somebody willing to just help me try to stop the HCC.”
Prince was panting now, at the end of his little speech, staring at Mapicc like he was both his only hope and his killer.
Mapicc would like to say it’s a hard decision, but, well, he was always just that much more impulsive than Ro, so, it was actually pretty easy.
“...alright, fuck it, why not? Now, tell me everything."