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Rain falls
Despite how happy Dan is to have Phil back, the earlier feelings of loss still linger. Phil is right there, but it's almost like he's not; too quiet, staring out windows as though trying to hide but making sure he can see everything. Three years ago Dan would have joked that Phil was finally turning into an actual cat, but now-Phil’s eyes flicker to and fro, too frantically. Too wary. His breathing huffs and shudders at times, one hand going down to lay on the nebula-scar under his shirt.Phil doesn't tell him but Dan, Dan knows that Phil ran into other trouble with Martyn. Not just Revenue, because Phil was a Turbulant through and through, so surely he still tried to help others. And with how injured he had been. . . -now it was just worrying. And it was. . . it was almost like Phil felt he didn't fit anymore. Like he was a stranger in an unwelcome environment, even as he fell into old rhythms and patterns. Dan thought about suggesting they move, but not yet; Phil was lost enough without worrying about a whole new environment - Dan would just have to wait until he had fallen into some semblance of comfort before even suggesting something like that. Phil’s been back for a month, and though he does bring out Susan to stretch, or briefly lets himself lounge in his Amazing Echo form, he hasn't suggested joining Dan in any fights yet. Dan understands his hesitance, though; Martyn even suggested he lay low for awhile before deciding to get back into it. Protecting one's secret identity and all. But Dan can't help the thought that seizes him during the second month, whispering, maybe he doesn't want to be a Turbulant anymore. Maybe he doesn't want to fight alongside you- Dan’s used to toxic thoughts at this point, but he can't find the will to fight these thoughts away.
It was your fault, wasn't it? He got hurt because you weren't quick enough. You didn't pay attention.
But he also came back because of you, right? Part of him whispers. The darker part doesn't answer. Just laughs. During the third month Dan doesn't notice that Phil is training again; going through stretches and motions to build himself back up again. False Fire becomes more reckless in fights - distracted - coming home agitated and worried.
It's not even the selfish worry that Phil doesn't want to be a Turbulant with him anymore - more so that he's blaming himself for Phil’s injury and absence, worry tumbling to fear and rolling into terror that Phil is going to get worse and he'll be gone permanently, and it's all Dan’s fault- And then, Phil has a panic attack. Dan’s worried thoughts are shoved aside as a gunshot echoes in the alley a block away from their apartment. Phil’s eyes grow wide and he crumples to the ground, glass of chocolate milk falling to the ground and shattering. For a moment Dan is torn between racing outside to give aid, or staying and helping his friend, but he's going to choose Phil first because dammit, his friend needs him. (Sirens follow immediately, and even though Dan knows that it's not abnormal for a Turbulant to sometimes leave things to the police, he admits to himself without hesitance that even if it was Yaverman strangling someone in an alley, Dan would still help his friend first.) “In, two three four, out, two three four five six seven. . .in two three four, out, two three four five six seven. . . C’mon, you can do it. in two three four. . .” He works Phil through it, coaxing him out of his panicked state. He notices when Phil’s eyes clear, and his posture slumps, melting into Dan’s side. He’s limp now, catching his breath between stunted breathing, whereas before he had been trembling, choking sobs.
“Sorry,” he croaks. “Don’t be,” Dan responds quickly. “Just. . .are you any better? You want me to make you some hot chocolate or something?” Phil huffs a small chuckle, gaze sweeping lethargically at the chocolate milk soaking their pants, and the glass shards clinging to the fabric. “Nah, I’m good. I’m-” He chokes off the next word, distressed. He looks away, and pressed against Dan’s side like he his, Dan can feel him struggling to breathe again. “I- how. . . how am I even going to be able to fight again - be a Turbulant again - if a damn gunshot is going to set me off like this?” His words are quiet, frustrated and mournful. Dan’s grip tightens on his friend’s arm; he’s elated, realizing that Phil does want to fight alongside him again, but also extremely worried, even more so, that Phil is going to get hurt - that, he won’t get any better, that he’ll struggle to breathe through wrenching sobs of fear again and again. . . But in a rare moment of optimism, born from selfless care, he says, “We’ll get through this. You’re still a Turbulant, Phil.” Phil gives him a look, clearly unsure. But he meets Dan eyes, and it clicks. Clarity, hope. He turns to grip Dan in a hug, suddenly. It won’t be perfect, it can’t be, nor will it be the same as it used to be.
But it’s not hopeless.“Thanks.”“What for?”“For still believing in me.” Another month later, and Amazing Echo returns.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Everything was a mess. That’s all Phil could think, as he and Martyn left the late Revenue headquarters, Dan draped over his shoulders. The minuscule wounds that Dan had - a clean, and a ragged cut on his arm, as well as a few punctures across his throat that were already scabbing over - had been bandaged as best as Phil could, with shreds made out of the bottom of his jumper. Luckily, Dan didn’t have severe blood loss like he had previously thought. But even though those were the only unhealed wounds, whatever else Dan had been subjected to had obviously traumatized him enough that he was unconscious. And they hadn’t even caught Yaverman, or any his people.
What an absolute mess.
“What’s your address again?” Martyn - no, Rebound; they were still wearing masks, after all - shouted above the pouring rain. Amazing gave him a look, repeating it. Rebound blew rainwater out of his face. “I can’t send us that far. Not all three of us, at least. We’ll have to take a cab.” Amazing’s mind was fuzzy, still processing all that had happened. When his brother’s statement registered, though, he gave an incredulous squawk. “What?” Despite the situation, Rebound laughed. “Not as our Turbulant selves. Daft cat. Besides, Fire’s mask is already dissappearing.” Amazing glanced over his shoulder, and sure enough, Fire’s ashy mask was dissolving in the heavy rain, running down his face almost like cheap eyeliner. He then glanced up, blinking against the onslaught. It really was too heavy, and cold to be walking through. And judging by the dark drear of the clouds, it was already really late in the day. “Cab it is, then.” “Yer mate git plastered t’day?” Phil gave the cabbie a withering look, while Martyn laughed (though Phil could tell how fake it was.) “Yeah; lad decided to smash it today - his girl said yes.” At this, Phil choked back a laugh; Dan? Get married? Phil could barely imagine him in an actual relationship, never mind getting hitched. Even as a cover story, it was almost too much. His smile soon disappeared as he remembered their situation. The ride back was tense, and quiet. Martyn kept the cabbie placated, until he dropped them off about two blocks from the apartment. You could never be too careful, after all. By time they finally made it up the stairs and into their apartment, Phil was ready to collapse. He slid Dan off his shoulders and onto the couch, mentally filing away that he would need to dry it later. His brother hurried into the kitchen and set a kettle on the stove. “So. . .” Martyn prompted as he came back into the living room. Phil had gotten towels; his hair was a mess from ruffling it. He tossed one to his brother, and wrapped one around Dan after removing his sweater and shirt. He would have done his jeans, too, at the very least, but he didn’t want to startle Dan when he woke up. Plus, his few injuries were on his upper half of his body, so it was more important to get that area dry and warm. Phil sighed. He hung his head low, and Martyn barely caught his mumbled, “I was so scared.” “You and me both. And I bet Dan was absolutely terrified.” Martyn put an arm around his brother’s shoulders in a half-hug. “But c’mon, look at the bright side mr.sunshine; Dan is alive, and nowhere near in the same condition that Die had been in. Not that he didn’t go through some horrible things too, of course, but he also has a chance to heal from all of this. Give it time.” Phil have a sigh, then looked at his brother with a grateful smile. “You’re right. Thanks Martyn.” The shriek of the kettle sounded, and Martyn winked, leaving to go get it. “That’s what big brothers are for.” He gave Phil a mug of chamomile when he came back, and Phil knew not to argue. Martyn also added, “I’ll probably stay for a week or two, just to make sure you guys are getting on fine.” “Are you sure?” Phil dispelled steam when he spoke, the mug having been brought up to his lips. He held it there, unsure. “I mean, if they need you back home- Dan and I can take care of ourselves-“ Martyn snorted. “Yeah, but now that Dan needs to recover, and you still have your Turbulant duties. . .look, they’ll be fine. I’ll phone them tonight, maybe even update the other Turbulants. I’ll be discreet,” he added quickly, at Phil’s panicked look, “but I’m not leaving you guys alone to deal with this. What happened to you had been traumatic enough, and I really wish I could have helped more.” “But Martyn, you took care of me for almost three years,” Phil insisted. “You were more than enough help. But. . .thank you. I - we - appreciate it.” They smiled at one another, but further conversation was dispelled as Dan groaned. Phil rushed over there, and Martyn left to give them some space. Phil saw as Dan sucked in a sharp breath, fluttering his eyes open, but relaxing as he saw their apartment. He flopped back with a groan. “Please tell me that it was all a shizzy dream.” Phil sat at the end of the couch carefully. “How you feeling?” “I’m-“ Dan inhaled sharply, then choked on a bitter laugh. “Honestly? Glad to be out of that hellhole. But also. . .” Phil waited patiently, fighting off the urge to fidget. He tapped his mug softly to dispel some of his worry. When Dan finally spoke again, his voice was tight, like he was trying not to cry. “I’m - I’m not okay, I guess. But, I’m also fine? I mean, they didn’t even do that much, just-“ “. . .It doesn’t matter if it wasn’t just the knives,” Phil muttered. “If - I know Yaverman plays mind games. If it’s anything that made you feel uncomfortable or scared, your feelings are valid. Hell knows I was terrified.” Part of him is hoping that Dan will just come out and tell him; but he knows - no, he respects - Dan enough to leave it up to him, whenever he’s ready. If he’s ever ready. There’s a quiet sigh, but Dan meets his gaze, and while it’s pained and worried, it’s also grateful. “. . .thanks.” “Of course. Now, how about a cuppa?” There’s an obvious trepedition whenever Dan is around knives. For understandable reasons, of course. Phil’s taken on the brunt of the cooking for the moment, since Rebound is covering their territory for a bit, and Dan is still emotionally recovering. And Phil isn’t a bad cook, per se, he’s just used to fighting Dan over what they’re going to cook for the night, and who gets to put in what spice; or when they bake, and they both end up spattering batter or flour on themselves, laughing all the while - But now Dan edges out of the kitchen whenever Phil opens the silverware drawer, his voice hitching slightly while talking. It’s. . .frustrating, really, to see his friend struggling. And to top it off, Dan doesn’t even shift into his False Fire form. And Phil knows how much of a relief it is to shift into one’s Turbulant form after not being in it for awhile. But Phil is willing to be patient. After all, Dan was willing to wait for him to be ready to talk about his own trauma - hell, he had to wait three years to even see him again. The least Phil can do is be patient. Phil does eventually catch Dan shifting one day, and he finds himself smiling, even if it’s for less than a minute. Eventually, Martyn does have to go home. Dan insists that he’s ready to return to his Turbulant duties, and, after a knowing look from Martyn, Phil agrees. After all, they’re a team first and foremost, so he won’t let Dan go at it alone. Luckily, most of their “fan base” have come under the assumption that they were vacationing (there’s other, less plausible and much stranger theories, of course). They seem delighted when some catch blurry photos of the two of them patrolling, False Fire’s brilliant wings illuminating him while Amazing Echo races next to him on Susan’s back. Their first few fights go pretty well; Phil is still staying cautious, watching Dan out of the corner of his eye, and while Dan isn’t as vocal, he seems to be holding up okay. Of course, there’s a whole other problem that arrives. It’s no surprise that Gaveon has gotten out of Jail - again. But to find that his abilities extend to sleet under the snow is an unpleasant experience, to say the least. It’s been snowing at a moderate pace the last three weeks, so there’s plenty of soft powder to cushion their fall. A loud whumph follows as Amazing Echo falls into his back into the street, the same sound repeated as False Fire lands on his stomach. Amazing shakes snow out of his mane of hair, growling, “Dammit, Gaveon.” “Hey, that’s my line.” Fire grumbles, getting up out of the snow and stretching his wings. It’s a good thing they’re not made of actual fire, or they would be steaming. As it is, they glow softly between the fluttering flakes. Cat-like eyes gaze up as Amazing states, “Incoming.” Gaveon lands, stumbling a little, and then righting himself. The frequent pain-in-the-rear then makes to run off, sirens in the distance. Realizing that the two Turbulants are there, though, he pauses. He quickly scrambles into a fighting stance. Fire rolls his eyes, standing next to Amazing. “Look, Gaveon. Let’s just skip this whole embarrassing ordeal; you can just get in the car when the cops get here, yeah?” “They’re serving pudding tonight,” Amazing adds. “Not helping,” Fire mutters to him, though Gaveon does seem to still at the mention. You have got to be kidding me, Fire’s expression screams to Amazing. Suddenly the vil- annoyance darts forward, whacking out with his bracer. Amazing leaps out of the way, all feline instinct, while Fire dodges to the side in irritance. Granted, this is Gaveon they’re fighting. Not like it was going to be easy anyways. Amazing tries to focus on summoning Susan, just barely catches her faint, greeting roar, when he hears a fearful screech. It’s not long and loud, like during horror movies or games, but it stills his heart instantly. Dan. Gaveon had somehow darted forward and grabbed a corner of Dan’s wing. He probably wasn’t even pulling it that hard, because he looked more startled at the reaction than anything - most people thought Fire didn’t have that physical of wings, and tried to grab his sleeveless jacket or one of his arms. Not that it mattered, because all Phil saw was old fear glazing his best friend’s eyes. In a matter of seconds he had tackled Gaveon to the ground and was snarling, long, inhuman canines centimeters from his face. Gaveon looked absolutely terrified. Phil managed to restrain himself, asking in a low voice, “You okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine.” The response was soft, low in tone but not tenor. So, not that okay then. When the police managed to get there, Amazing had to yank himself off. The police seemed to take note of his ticked off attitude because they didn’t try to get close; merely nodded their thanks and hoisted Gaveon away for the fourteenth time that year. The Amazing Fire duo walked home in the snow, silent. Dan didn’t look up from the ground once. “It’s okay, you know.” Dan glances up from his cocoa, pulled out of a memory. Chooses to not respond. Phil debates whether to go on. He wants to reassure Dan, but he doesn’t want to feel like a know-it-all preaching holier-than-thou or something. “Wheth-“ “I froze up.” It’s choked out. Depressed. A little frustrated. Phil actually does bite his tongue, waiting. Tries not to fidget with his cup of hot cocoa. They’re next to each other on the couch, opposite ends; Dan hunching forward and Phil with his legs pulled up. He considers moving closer, but doesn’t want to startle Dan. “I-“ he pauses, closing his eyes, and swallows. Sighs. “I . . .remembered. Something that- something that happened. With Revenue.” His eyes flicker up, and Phil wants to cry at the look in them. “They- he grabbed my wing. Fel- felt it. Pulled out a feather.” Phil winced. “It’s; I know it’s stupid,” he looks in the opposite direction, “it’s just a feather, didn’t even hurt that bad, but it’s just-“ “Not stupid.” Dan turns around, meeting Phil’s gaze. He’s determined, gripping his mug tightly. “It’s not stupid at all. Dan, I know how much you avoid letting anyone touch your wings. I see you tilt slightly out of the way in battle, and avoid brushing them against a lot of things. They’re probably sensitive, right? And besides,” he loosens his shoulders, fingers slack on the mug, “that was- that is- it’s a violation, yeah? Of your space and what you want. It wasn’t okay, and it’s not stupid that it affected you.” Dan seemed like he wanted to argue, “But I froze in a fight against Gaveon-“ “And I still shake when there’s a gunshot!” Phil is almost bristling, but quickly calms down, guilty. “Sorry, I don’t mean to yell. It’s just that - look, Revenue has been horrible to both of us in different ways. We’re both not fully okay - but that’s fine,” he quickly adds at Dan’s look. Dan huffs, but Phil can tell that he’s at least starting to see his point. He starts again, soft, catching Dan’s attention. “You helped me, right? When I thought I couldn’t be a Turbulant again? I’m still scared, Dan, terrified - but not of guns, or the memories. I’m scared for you, and my brother, and all the people we protect. That I’m not good enough for them. But you helped me, Dan, you. So please, listen to me when I say I want to help you. We can get through this together, like always, right?” He holds a hand outstretched because it feels right. Dan stares at it, then rolls his eyes fondly, and pulls Phil in for a hug. “You idiot,” his voice muffled by the shirt. Phil’s eyes water as he hears Dan’s nose get stuffy from crying. “You bloody idiot.” Phil hugs him back. “Yeah, and you’re stuck with me, so what now?” They let go, and Dan wipes at his face with a sleeve. Phil knows it’s not a cure-all, not perfect; but maybe Dan can let go of some of his burden, and Phil in turn shed his. “Now, you’re paying for pizza.” “What? Again?” He tries to sound indignant. But for now? A laugh, choked and snotty, but lighter than anything else he’s ever heard joins his. For now Phil let’s himself feel warm and content in this moment, letting go of his worry.