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Chapter V: Unbearable

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Caleb Hale was awake before his alarm clock. Every time he closed his eyes, a dozen blank, dead faces stared back at him, bloodied and accusing. Crystal Minotaurs hovered over each of them, their axes bloodied like glistening executioners. Sleep eluded him. Blinking was a brief moment of torment. He didn't even dare to shut off the lights for fear the spectres would haunt him.

There was no relief when his alarm finally did go off and his father immediately burst through the door.

"Rise and shine, son!" David exclaimed, a big grin on his face. "Time to take your measurements."

Caleb gave his father a blank stare, muzzle half open as if he wanted to say something. Some force was trying desperately to make him rise like tiny birds with their talons hooked into his flesh were flapping their wings in a futile effort to pull him from his sheets.

David Hale's grin wavered. "Okay. Well, let's just hit the run then! Fifteen minutes, Caleb!" He ducked back into the hallway and shut the door. Right on cue, thick metal began to seep all over Caleb's bedroom, sealing it off completely. The timer sprang to light, adding its red glow to the light of his desk lamp.

The seconds ticked by slowly and he just lay there, watching them fly by. He was ten minutes in when he realised that without oxygen, he would likely face those souls he had sent to death. Fear gripped his heart as he whimpered, "I don't want to die... sorry..."

He pulled himself from beneath his sheets and seized his desk lamp. His paws shook as the soft, ethereal blue light began seeping through the lamp slower than normal. Even when fully encased, it took an entire minute before its shape before to morph and twist. It coiled around his wrist, taking on a distinctly serpentine shape with a snake's head arched forward just past his knuckles. He squeezed his paw to test the weapon. A beam of bright, white light erupted from the eyes of the snake, heating the metal until it began to melt.

Knowing his father was waiting on the other side of that door with a training routine he did not have the energy for, he turned towards where his window would have been instead. He fired the laser snake at it and watched slowly as it burned a hole through metal and his window big enough for him to slip through. The scent of the morning air filtered through the gaps in the metal and he quickly pushed the slab, letting it drop to the grassy garden below.

He slipped through the break in his window and his father's metal barrier, gripping the stable drain pipe beside his window and sliding down its length. When his bare feet touched the grass, his claws digging into the soft, moist soil and the grass tickling the space between his toes, he realised he was barefoot. His entire body felt numb and even the cold air did nothing to make him feel anything but empty.

Even when the soup can bounced off his head and settled between his ears, he didn't take notice. Mary's shouts for his name went unanswered as Caleb strode out in front of his house, paws shoved into the pockets of his Weapons Master uniform. Only when he rounded the corner onto the driveway did something happen to knock him out of his trance somewhat. A shirt, pants and jacket were thrown in his direction and it took a moment for him to realise it was his pants that were blocking his vision.

He pulled it off, looking up at the source of the clothing.

"Get in and get changed," Lance said, stepping into the family van. "Come on. You don't want the neighbours to see Weapons Master coming out of our house, do you?"

He realised that would indeed be a bad thing and shuffled into the back of the van, as far away from Lance as possible. His brother drove slowly, giving the younger wolf time and room to change out of his uniform. Being treated like he was a hollow eggshell about to break was humiliating enough but with the torment and guilt that he felt deep within jabbing at the frame of the shell... It felt like he could just explode at any moment.

Every tear had dried up the previous night and soaked into his pillow. That did not feel right at all. He needed to cry. If he kept crying for the rest of his life, it would somehow make up for the terrible sin he had committed. The sadness was there but he couldn't squeeze a tear out. His throat felt dry, preventing even the softest sob.

Caught between the crushing emptiness and the terrible fragile state of his heart, he barely noticed when Lance dragged him out of the van and pushed him straight into Terry's Diner. He limply fell into an empty booth while the waitress rolled up on her rollerblades and handed them the breakfast menu. It was with some semblance of life that he noted it was six-thirty in the morning.

"Can I get you boys any drinks?"

Lance ordered them both some chocolate shakes with extra whipped cream. On top of that, he ordered four 'Big Breakfasts'. Caleb sat numbly as this all happened, his paws folded on his lap and staring blankly at the red and white chequered table.

"Look, Cale..." Lance began softly. "I can't imagine what you're going through. But we had training about this at the Tower." He wrung his big paws and reached across the table, unable to go further than to the edge of the table. "They told us that it will happen even to the best of us. Supers have big, grand battles all the time. Sometimes in densely populated areas. I don't care what the comic books, stories and movies say. No way in hell is it possible that in all that mayhem and chaos, not a single person gets out unscathed."

Caleb lifted his gaze. "But those deaths would be accidental..."

"That's just it," Lance said, suddenly talking animated. "I've done my research. In 2925, the superhero Gear, had to make the call to send an whole cruise liner filled with people into a battleship to prevent a nuclear disaster. In 2788, Sacrifice had to use his blood_and those of 1044 people to stop an asteroid the size of _Alaska from crashing into the planet!"

"Did any of those supers ever kill people intentionally for any other reason that isn't heroic?" Caleb murmured softly. "Did they kill because they wanted to and only realise the fathers they had taken from their sons, the brothers they had robbed off their siblings and the wives they had torn from their husbands were just that? People and not villains?"

Their milkshakes arrived and Lance angrily pushed them aside. "You're oddly poetic when you're depressed."

Caleb's ears folded back. Angry tears should have welled up at the corners of his eyes but all his fury had been burned out last night. "And why shouldn't I be depressed?" he snarled back. "I just killed dozens of people, Lance! They didn't do anything wrong and we could've cured them given enough time! I took away all chances of them going back to a normal life!"

People were starting to turn and stare but he didn't care. Why he had even bothered to disguise himself as Caleb Hale baffled him. When he looked at his warped reflection in the polished table, all he saw was Weapons Master the murderer.

"You've got to stop beating yourself up on this," Lance pleaded, his eyes filled with worry. "Cale, it's been three days...?"

"It has?" Caleb murmured softly. He fell back into his seat, clutching his chest. "Feels just like yesterday."

Their food arrived; a heaping collection of lightly sautéed mushrooms in creamy butter, a few fragrant pork sausages with crisp skins, hash browns cooked to a perfect golden colour, some fried tomatoes and a stack of three, large pancakes with a large scoop of sweetened butter on top.

"Eat up, Cale," Lance urged, gently. "You'll feel better."

The thought of food reminded him of the voracious hunger the bears must've felt while they transformed. He wondered if they were little more than beasts when he slaughtered them or if, in their dying moments, they were desperately trying to devour something just so that they could take that last grasp of sanity to plead for him to save them.

"I'm not hungry..."

Lance dropped his fork with a loud clatter. The older brother quickly picked up cell phone and put it to his ear. "Code Blue, guys. Code Blue. I repeat, he is not eating. Not even touching his drink." Lance growled. "Yes, I used a chocolate milkshake!" He let out a sharp bark. "Just get the fuck over here."

He set the phone down and waved for a waitress. "Excuse me, can we get his this to take away?"

There was suddenly a white wolf slipping in beside the waitress.

"No need for that dear," Rhiannon said, gently gripping Caleb's shoulder. "He doesn't need food for his stomach. His soul needs to be fed."

Lance gave her a wince. "You're not going to take him to some jazz club are you?"

"No," she answered. "Not now anyway." She hoisted a limp and cumbersome Caleb off the seat. "Come on, big guy. I'll take you to do the one thing I like to do when I'm depressed."

"No bondage!" Lance shouted.

The Hound of Destruction shot him a piercing stare as she carried Caleb out of the diner. "For the last time, I don't do that!" She turned away and growled something about getting Mary for spreading such a vile rumour.

What happened next was a blur for Caleb. He vaguely remembered getting into a car with his head resting against the window lightly, watching the colours of autumn fly by the glass barrier without truly seeing them. He wasn't sure if more days passed or not but it seemed like only a second had gone by when Rhiannon opened the door and he blinked up at her. She grabbed his shoulder and dragged him across the grassy fields of a children's park.

He found his rump seated on a park bench while children played happily across the playground, swinging on monkey bars, squealing around the merry-go-round and playing tag across the jungle gym. Seeing a group of kids running around with their arms stretched out in front of them making swooshing sounds reminded him of what he had been before... innocent, optimistic and blind to the brutality of the world around him.

"If so is this the part where you show me that there is still good in the world and now that I've lost my innocence, I should protect those that remain?" he muttered, eyes cast down. "Part of me says that it's stupid to keep people blind like that but the other just wants to go back to the way things were; to thinking that I could save everyone..."

Rhiannon was silently for a long while. When he glanced at her, her red eyes were wide in surprise.

"Erm... is it working?" she offered.

He let out a long, sigh, the last ounces of energy in his body fading away with his breath that condensed in front of his muzzle.

"Actually," Rhiannon said, clapping his knee lightly, "when I'm feeling down, what I like to do is inflict the same pain and suffering I feel on the world."

Caleb flicked an ear. He knew he should be shocked at that statement but he couldn't muster more than a faint, "Oh... That's nice."

"So," the Hound of Destruction continued, "since you've clearly lost your innocence, I was thinking we could steal the innocence of all the children here too. You know, if you're depressed you can at least be depressed with someone else, right? Come on, I'll show you." She gave him a big grin. "It's super fun!"

He watched with dull, unseeing eyes as Rhiannon skipped to the group of kids who were playing superhero in the park. She approached the kid wearing a paper mask and a cape made out of a beloved blanket.

"Hey kiddo! You know why most supers don't wear capes these days?"

The boy, a human, shook his head in wonder.

Rhiannon took out her phone. "Well, that's because capes get caught in places and sometimes, those places aren't very nice." She tapped a few times on her phone before showing it to the kid. The boy's rosy cheeks instantly went pale and his eyes went wide like saucers. All the other kids crowded around him and all their partially toothed jaws dropped open in horror. "See? This is the superhero Jetstream after his cape got caught in the engines of a starship! Toasty, right? Oh! And this is what happened to Leapfrog after his cape got caught on flagpole in DC! Don't you just love how he kicked and flailed while the life was slowly choked out of him? Oooh! And I just love how his tongue fell out once he suffocated!"

"MOMMY!"

The kids instantly scattered and scrambled away, tears in their eyes.

Rhiannon joyfully skipped over to a group of kids who were swinging from the monkey bars, revelling in the chaos she sewed around her. "Hi kids! Did you know that our planet's gravity actually compresses your spine over time? You can lose up to half an inch to two inches in your entire lifetime, making you shorter when you're old! So if you want to grow up big and strong, keep hanging on those monkey bars!"

She was dancing away to the kids playing in the sandpit before the children's parents hurried over to their traumatised kids hanging from the metal bars. When urged to get down, the kids refused to drop down.

The Hound of Destruction knelt down to the children who were building a sand castle. "Awww, that's cute. Did you know that when you die, your body will eventually be reduced to dust after it's been eaten by maggots, bugs and all sorts of other things that manage to worm their way into your coffins and eat your guts!" The children stared at her in wide-eyed horror. "That's right! After some time, you'll be dust!" She picked up a handful of sand. "Just like this!" She blew the sand in their faces, causing them both to scream in mental and physical pain.

Caleb couldn't help but stare at the Hound of Destruction making her way from one group of children to the other, wreaking terror and havoc upon the playground. Though he felt empty inside, he felt the shadow of the wolf he should have been caught between utter horror and mild amusement as Rhiannon systematically destroyed each and every one of those children's childhoods.

"Hey kids! Do you want to know where you really came from?"

A hand suddenly seized Caleb's shoulders and yanked him off the park bench.

"She is completely and utterly psychotic," Mary said, dragging him away from the screaming children and their equally enraged parents. "Come on, Cale. We're going to school."

"School?" he asked in an almost drunken slur.

"Yeah," came the gentle response as she lowered Caleb into the passenger seat of her car. "School. Maybe some familiar grounds will show you that nothing has changed. You're still Caleb Hale. You're still a hero."

Mary drove off just as the police came zooming in with their hover cars, sirens blaring. The familiar sight of West California High School only brought more painful memories of simpler times when all he worried about was making the football team or making it through class without making a total ass of himself. When he first developed his powers, things began to go downhill. The sheer responsibility put on his shoulders just continued to build and build until he made a critical mistake... a mistake that cost dozens of people their lives...

That train of thought led to another, making him wonder if all those Thralls that he had slain out of mercy could have been saved somehow. Maybe he could have allowed himself to be infected by one of the original five Gene Stealers to develop a cure and saved them...

"That's it!" Mary shouted, slamming on the brakes. Caleb jerked forward but barely felt it when his head banged against the dashboard. He kept his forehead there, not truly paying attention to the soft grey of the dashboard or the stars flashing before his eyes. Mary seized the back of his head, pulling him back into the seat by his hair.

"You listen to me, Caleb Hale!" she said fiercely, jabbing a finger against his chest. "You did not know! You couldn't have known! Based on the information you had, it was a logical conclusion! Hell, if you want to put the blame on anyone, blame Richard and his boys for not making it obvious! In the entire battle, they didn't once tell us to stop because they were trying to rehabilitate those people! They just shouted" - Mary began waving her hands in the air - "'It's Arsenal! Attack!'"

Caleb turned his head away from her, taking note that they were in the middle of the school's parking lot. He stole a glance at the clock on Mary's dashboard and noted that it was actually a little past noon. "That doesn't matter. We're meant to be better than them. We can't expect the bad guys to scream their intentions. We're not meant to make assumptions... And because of my mistake, people have lost their lives. No one gets a second chance."

The gently touch on his shoulder warned him of a change in tactic. "I spoke to Arcturus about this. There are instances when you can get a second chance. There's paradise as well. You don't know if they're stuck in eternal damnation or at peace. You don't even know if they blame you." She gently turned his head back towards her. "Would it make you feel better if you spoke to them?"

He pushed open the door and stepped out. "I don't know. Yes? No? Maybe?" He growled at himself softly and ruffled his own hair. "I don't know. It's not just that I took their lives, Mary. It's also that I shouldn't have made that mistake. I... I just shouldn't have..."

She got out of the car and gripped his wrist tightly. "Caleb, you can't expect to be perfect. You need to stop thinking that you have to be. Celebrities have their affairs, superheroes make mistakes that cost lives. Hell, you've seen Rhiannon in action. Even gods can be blind and in that blindness, clearly they made a terrible mistake by sending us the Hound of Destruction."

A strange sensation touched his lips and it took him a second to realise he was giving Mary the faintest of smiles. "You really don't like her, do you?"

"Not even in the slightest," she answered, relief in her eyes. "You get what I'm saying, Cale? Perfection, in itself, is a sin. I mean, every religion out there says you shouldn't try surpassing their deity and if you're perfect, you would just do that. Do you really want to add some divine pantheon to your list of enemies?"

Finding some strength to move himself, Caleb began a slow walk towards the school. "I dunno... Can't be worse than the vengeful souls of the dead, right?"

Mary let out a heavy sigh and shook her head in exasperation. "Well... it's progress. Come on, let's get you something to eat. You haven't eaten in two days."

"I haven't?" he asked softly, surprise creeping through his daze.

"No. Your parents were worried sick. They were considering shipping you to the Elemental Tower to get a professional super psychologist to look at you. We convinced them to give us one more shot before they did that."

He blinked a few time as Mary pushed open the big red doors into the cafeteria for him. "One more shot? You mean there were others?"

"You don't remember?"

"Honestly...? It feels like I've been asleep and right now, I'm fighting the urge to go back to bed..." He cast his gaze around the cafeteria. "Everything feels... dulled. I only see grey like I'm watching some pre-hologram movie. Every strand of fur on my body feels like the needles of accusation filled with deadly venom, tauntingly hovering over my skin, not quite piercing it but constantly reminding me that death is plastered to my very existence. I can't hear anything unless it's right next to me except for the slow, agonising thumps of my heartbeat, constantly repeating that I still live while there are people who have died."

Mary let go of his wrist and took a step back, her expression twisted in a look caught between surprise and confusion. "Lance was right. You _do_get awfully poetic when you're depressed." She guided him back to their usual table. "By the way, I was next in line to pick you up. Rhiannon just barged in unannounced."

Ben and Lars were already at the table, both of them looking up at him hopefully. When they saw his distant expression, their hope dwindled. He couldn't bear to bring them down, especially not Lars. He tried to crack a smile but it felt like he was trying to move fossilized muscles and it pained him as much as it did the others for seeing it. Mary had to seize his shoulders and push him down so that he would sit down.

"Everyone," she said, gesturing towards Caleb, "meet Emo Caleb."

"Emo...?" Caleb repeated.

"Yes," Mary replied, dusting herself absently as if this were just another day in school. "We've already met the Four Faces of Drunk Lars, Posh Ben and Ashton of the Fourth Wall as he decided to call himself. Now we have you, Emo Caleb." There was a salad in front of her and Caleb realised that there was a meal in front of him as well. Both meals looked cold. As Mary began plucking the green, leafy vegetables from her bowl, she said, "Or would you rather we call you 'Laureate Caleb'? No?"

He appreciated her attempt to pretend nothing had happened but his heart still weighed on him so heavily that he had to push his meal halfway across the table and set his chin on the freed space like a depressed puppy begging for food.

"Okay, we're making no progress," Ben said, reaching into a satchel bag he had strapped across his waist. "If luring you out with food and Christmas Carol-esque visitations doesn't work, there can only be one more solution." He shot Mary a sharp look. "Before professional help." Then he turned to Lars. "And before time travel."

Ben took out a large sheet of paper that looked suspiciously like a certificate of some sort. "Caleb, I have here a paper that officially states that the bearer of this owns the majority stock of the Apple Corporation."

Caleb's ears perked up and even Mary dropped her fork loudly.

Lars tried to snatch that paper from Ben but the werewolf yanked it away. He offered it face down to Caleb. "Cale, with this, you could be one of the most powerful wolves in the world. You could do whatever you wanted with this money. You could use it to improve Arsenal so this never happens again. You could open Outsider schools of your own to teach this very same lesson or you could even donate it to the families of those that died."

Ben's face was extremely serious. "So... what do you say?"

Caleb glanced down at the sheet... and frowned. "Why can I see the word 'murder' through the back of this thing?"

Ben pulled the document away. "Erm... No reason."

Rhiannon suddenly slipped in behind Ben and snatched the sheet from him. "Oh cool. You're offering Caleb one free murder?"

All eyes went to the Hound of Destruction who turned the very official looking document towards the group. Amidst the large slabs of text and legal mumbo-jumbo, the words 'murder' were in bold, highlighted and underlined. Not to mention that the title of the document read 'Contract of Murder'. It was already signed by Ben with only the one signature missing for Caleb's or whoever decided to take Ben up on the contract.

Caleb wasn't the only one that turned to Ben with eyebrows raised.

The werewolf gave them a sheepish grin and a shrug. "Does it help if this contract is in no way demonic in nature? No infernal interference, I promise."

He yelped as Lars gave him a punch.

"What's wrong with you!?" snapped the angered Doberman. "Caleb is trying to get over killing people! Why the hell are you trying to get him to kill more people!?"

"I thought he might be like us," Ben answered with another shrug. "First time I killed someone..." He shivered and a sinister grin crossed his features. "Oh boy... It felt so good. I love the moments when you hold the asshole's life in your paws. Looking into their eyes and watching their life drain away while they come to the crushing realisation that everything they are, that they will be and were means nothing in that moment of -"

WHAM!

Mary dusted her hands free. Her salad and its dressing was slowly falling from Ben's head. "Caleb, ignore him. Ben is psychotic and -"

"I'd like to take you up on your offer," Caleb said suddenly.

Everyone stared.

Ben had to tear the salad bowl from his head to stare. "Ha!" he exclaimed, flexing his bicep. "See!? I knew Caleb was a supervillain at heart! I tell you, Cale, this is the first step! Give it a month or so and you'll be one _hell_of a Pack member. Ooh! Wait until I tell my -"

"I'd like you to kill me."

A silence came to the table. While the rest of the cafeteria continued to be filled with chatter and everyday life permeated ever tile, chair and molecule of air with colour and energy, a black hole just seemed to appear at Caleb's table. Mary's loss of composure and her panicked, open-mouthed look to others revealed Caleb was in no way joking.

"Caleb..." began Rhiannon.

"You said it yourself," Caleb said sharply. "The future is masked from the gods and for some reason is all centralises around Arsenal and the Gene Stealers. If we take out one half of the equation, I'm sure you guys will be able to figure out the rest." His ears folded back as he lowered his gaze. "Hell, if I can go out in one last heroic move, it might partially make up for what I did..."

"No," came Ben's firm response. "I am not going to put a hit on your head. Don't you see what you've done?"

"Murder? Kill? Assassinate? Slaughter?"

Ben shook his head fiercely. "No. What you've done is bring two forces of good and evil together into one, unified cause. You took what I'd like to think is the most evil werewolf group in the world and the most anal superhero organisation together to work as one. You somehow got two exes who broke up under some pretty intense circumstances to stand together in the field of battle and even sit at the same table without ripping one another to shreds!" He gestured between himself and Lars.

He gave his friend a sour look. "I didn't do any of that. You and Lars stopped fighting because you realised the Gene Stealers were more important than your petty squabbles. The same thing with the Alliance and the Pack. I had no part in it."

Throwing his hands into the air, Ben said, "Fine. Then how about this?" He began jabbing the table with a finger. "It's because of you that hundreds of people infected by either the Gnoll or Minos strains were cured." He lifted a hand before Caleb could point out that was all accidental. "I don't care what you say, that was you. None of us are going to bottle up your organs and use them to make cures for the other strains either."

Ben shook his head. "And honestly, you're the most heroic person I know. You fought with all your might against the Gnoll strain. You came to our rescue when Gnoll was about to wipe the floor with us. With Minos, you purposefully injected yourself with the Original Serum so that your family wouldn't get infected. You even purposefully knocked yourself out to prevent the infection from spreading." The werewolf reached across the table and seized Caleb's wrist. "You've got to take the good with the bad. No one is perfect. In fact, I could say you could've used a little stain on your record. It makes you seem less like a character out of a comic book and actually a real person."

...

"Wow Ben," Lars said, stunned at the werewolf's words. "That was... really good."

"If you tell anyone about it, I will rip your throat out," Ben growled.

Then Caleb did something he hadn't expected to do. He let out a short laugh. Suddenly, the world didn't seem so shrouded anymore. He began to see colours again like there were tiny holes broken through the veil that hung over his eyes. The pinpricks constantly crawling across his flesh like the bony hands of the dead trying to drag him to Hell eased. His stomach no longer felt empty with guilt but just empty from hunger.

He saw the stunned expressions of his friends and he gave them a soft smile. "Thanks."

"He laughed!" Lars exclaimed. "Quick! Keep going! For the love of God, Ben, tell me how a little bad makes you a rounded person." He glanced a Caleb with a dazzling smile. "Just so you know, it was Ben's bad-boy streak that sort of turned me on."

"I think you're missing the point," Rhiannon said, seating herself down beside Ben. "Welcome back to the world of the living, Caleb Hale."

"Thanks," he responded softly. "But I think I still need a little time to myself. Heart is still feeling a little heavy..."

"I understand." She raised Ben's murder contract. "So, all talk of suicide is gone, yes?"

Caleb glanced down at his paws. "I don't really know... Logically, getting rid of Weapons Master might help... but... If there's anything I've learned about death from this... Death is final. No coming back." He lifted his gaze to meet Rhia's. "I don't want to be wrong about that again. With my life or anyone else's."

The Hound of Destruction smiled at him. "That's a good attitude to have." Then she turned to Ben. "So, can I have this?"

Everyone watched Ben as he gave her a puzzled look. "Who could _you_possibly want dead?"

"Isn't it obvious?" answered Rhia, glaring at Mary from the corner of her eyes, a sinister smirk on her muzzle.

"You bitch!" Mary exclaimed, leaping from her seat with a fork in her hand.

Rhiannon lifted her paw. "Now, now. You don't want Caleb to see us fighting, now do you? It might send him back into a spiralling depression."

The empath's jaw dropped open in horror. "Have you no shame? Using a recently traumatised wolf as a shield!?" Then her eyes sparked with an idea. "Caleb, I'll stop fighting with Rhiannon if it means you'll completely drop out of this depression."

"I don't think -" Caleb began.

"You heard the man!" Mary exclaimed.

WHAM!

Ben leapt back into Lars' arms as Mary's sucker punch connected. The icing on the cake was when Mary leapt over the table and crashed into Rhiannon, the two women fighting for the scrap of paper still in Rhiannon's grip. For Caleb, it was like someone had taken a hammer to the veil over his mood, spreading cracks across his greyed vision.

He laughed softly, surprising even himself with the sound. A ring came to his phone. It took him a few moments to realise that it was 'Waiting for you' playing. The sound was masked by Rhiannon and Mary's screaming so neither Ben nor Lars heard it. The two were busily trying to avoid the melee while the rest of the school was starting to gather around them.

Caleb removed himself from the scene, blending into the crowd with his phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"You answered!" Bren exclaimed with relief. "Listen, I'm not sure how Mary or Lance went with you but I think we've got a solution to your problem."

Thinking back at Ben's rejected suggestions, he asked, "Time travel?"

There was a pause on the other side. "No. Of course not. That'd be foolish."

"A frontal lobotomy?"

"Kind of... What would you say if I told you that I could erase your memories of the issue?"

He stopped, finding himself in the school hallways far from the cafeteria. Part of him was disappointed he was still losing focus. What surprised him the most was the urge to live. He wanted the pain to go away and he wanted to go back to the way things were. Impossible as it may have seemed, it was the fuel that urged him to fight back against the grey curtain that weighed on his shoulders. He had seen the light and wanted to bathe in it.

Groaning, he massaged his temple with one paw. "Lance was right. I do get poetic when I'm depressed..."

"Caleb?"

"Sorry. I was... talking to myself. What's this about erasing my memories?"

"Well, remember the FBI has memory alteration technology? Well, I've called in a few favours and the psychologist came back with his opinion."

"Psychologist?" Caleb repeated. "I thought were a step away from getting professional help? Was I interviewed?"

"Wouldn't have done any good. You were pretty comatose the entire time. All you did was draw rather... depressing imagery. We sent those to a friend of mine. She said that your psyche was far too young to be exposed to this kind of thing. She suggested we send you in for regular therapy."

He frowned slightly. Was he really that damaged? "What did you say?"

"I accused her of just wanting more money. She drop kicked me and before she crushed my windpipe, she told me we'd need to discuss my nonchalance about death as apparently, that's not mentally healthy either."

Caleb held his phone out at arm's length for a good thirty seconds before putting it to his ear again. "Um... so a psychologist killed you?"

"Her form of therapy is... very hands on." Bren paused for a moment. "So what do you say, Caleb? Do you want us to wipe those memories from your mind?"

The opportunity was there. He could see it, he could taste it. The warm rays of light filtering through the veil was taunting him, beckoning him to come through. Erasing those memories would shatter the shadow once and for all. With a simple 'yes', he could go back to the way things were. He was held back, however, by one thing.

"I like things simple, Bren," he responded. "This'd just be a lie on top of a terrible crime. I think it'd hurt twice as bad if and when I figured out in the end what really happened. So, thanks for the offer and sorry that you died for it but I think it's best if I don't."

For some reason, he felt that Bren was smiling on the other side of the phone. "Sure thing, Caleb. Hey, your dad wanted to see you. He's waiting outside the school for you."

"Alright, I'll -"

Bren hung up on him.

He shrugged and started heading towards the front of the school and where his father was waiting. Thinking about his dad, however, he realised that he didn't need more interference from his friends and family at the moment. More needed to be figured out without the influences of others. He doubled back and just as the lunch bell rang, Caleb Hale left through the eastern exit of the school, hailing a cab and telling the driver to take him to Threshold Boulevard.

One thing the Boulevard held for him were childhood memories; memories of better times, more innocent, simple times. After he paid the driver and stepped out onto the long stretch of asphalt and beach, the crushing realisation that he could never look at this place the same way again hit him, almost like a physical blow. Hunger and the agony of loss caused him to double over. Somehow, he managed to maintain his strength and stagger over to the low wall separating the beach from the road.

There, he sat on the edge of the pile of concrete and rocks, just watching the beach. Amongst the sunbakers, kids making sandcastles and super-macho men strutting down the beach, he saw himself in various walks of life.

There, he saw himself being taught how to swim by his mom and then coming out of the beach, complaining about the salt crystals in his fur. Over by the swim gear kiosk, he saw himself at the age of ten buying some trunks for himself and then his brothers sneaking up beside him only to pull down his pants. By the shore, he was building a sandcastle with Abby. A glance over his shoulder at the beach-side open gym, he saw himself, Lance and his father working out a similar facility close to home.

A sigh escaped him, a final farewell to those times.

To cap it all off, as the sun began to set, he saw himself gripping his mother's paw, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he eagerly waited for the fireworks that would light up the sky every Saturday. He laughed softly at the memory and the younger version of himself running up to the edge of the wall, too small to see above and eagerly trying to climb it. His dad would pick him up and put him on his shoulders, both of them smiling broadly as the sky was set afire with dazzling lights.

"Hey kiddo, you okay?"

Caleb jumped lightly at the sound of Gabe's voice. The big panda leaned against the wall to his right, regarding him with a gentle smile and a concerned look.

"Yeah," he croaked. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Gabe responded, pointing at his eyes. "Not often we see a big macho wolf like you cry around here."

Caleb reached for his cheeks and was surprised to find the touch of wetness there. He couldn't help but grin bashfully at that and wiped his fur with the back of his arm. "Right. Sorry. Just going through some stuff..."

"What kind of stuff?" Gabe set down a white paper bag next to him and prised it open. The aromatic smell of burritos, tacos and quesadillas wafted through the air and Caleb's stomach growled. Gabe held out a slice of a quesadillas mixed with spicy avocado sauce, succulent chicken breasts and the perfect blend of tomatoes and red onions to add that salty-sour blend that Caleb loved. He offered it to Caleb who eagerly took it and began munching on it.

Apparently not having eaten for two days, Caleb didn't know how hungry he was and nearly bit off his own finger as he devoured the slice. Gabe laughed softly and pushed the bag towards him while getting a taco for himself.

"I did something terrible," Caleb responded after he found some time between bites. "Something... really bad. Something I can't take back. Been really out of it for the past few days. My parents were even considering sending me to a shrink."

Gabe's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Professional help? Really? Must've messed you up pretty bad."

"It'd mess up anyone pretty bad."

"What did you do?"

Caleb gave Gabe a wry smile. "Sorry. I can't tell you. Just... It was bad. I can't take it back. Ever and it messed up other people's lives just as bad if not worse."

Gabe's eyes dropped for a moment before he closed them and let out a soft smile. "I won't pretend I know what high school kids are going through these days but I won't be so bad as to belittle what you're going through." He lifted the paw that wasn't holding the taco. "If it's bad for you, kiddo, then I trust it's bad." He took a bite and munched on crispy shell. Seeing the juices from the taco meat dribbling down Gabe's muzzle made Caleb reach into the bag and fish out his own taco.

"Your family and friends been helping you out?" Gabe asked.

"Apparently they have," Caleb responded. "But apparently, I've been practically comatose for the past two days that I really didn't respond to any of it. Wouldn't surprise me if someone injected me with a drug at one point."

Gabe gave him a concerned look. "You sure you're okay?"

"Doing better, yeah," he responded.

"What changed?"

Caleb told him the events of the day, bypassing any specifics or references like Arsenal or Rhiannon's unique way of coping with disaster. He merely told his boss that Rhia made him rethink of ever pissing her off. When he retold the story of the lunch room conversation, he really cracked a smile and couldn't help but mention the 'free murder' offer from Ben, passing it off as a joke. When he finished, he found Gabe smiling at him.

"What?" he asked.

"It sounds to me your friends really knew what they were doing."

He frowned at the panda. "What do you mean? It sounds like they were just taking turns trying to cheer me up."

"Take it from someone who's been there," Gabe answered, patting his shoulder, "what your friends and family did was genius." He finished off his taco, dusted his paws and then lifted a finger. After a swallow, he said, "What your father did was try to get you back into the routine of how things were before whatever happened to you. Sometimes, it's something as little as remembering the good times that reminds us that there really is light in the world. Your brother? He just laid down the reality on you. You probably didn't notice it then, but I bet when you look back at it right now, you'll realise what you said was pretty stupid. Give it a few days, and you'll be laughing at what you said. A month and you'll be sharing it as a story to everyone else as conversation starter at parties. A year or so, and you won't even recognise the person that you were."

Caleb did think back and when Lance's words about him being poetic when depressed came up, he couldn't help but agree and let out a soft laugh. "Well what about Rhia and her reminder that one should never forget the consequences of a woman scorned?"

Gabe shrugged just as the last inches of the sun dropped below the horizon and true night fell upon them. "Well, I honestly think that she was reminding you that you have every right to be angry with the world but taking it out on others really isn't the right thing to do. I mean, in your history with her, do you think she would be so cruel as 'inflict pain on those smaller than you'?"

Considering how she was the Hound of Destruction and the brief time that they had known each other, Caleb was fairly sure Rhia was more than capable and psychologically willing to lay waste to entire countries if she so much as got a paper cut. He truly feared when she would hit menopause or if anyone ever dumped her. Still, he decided to give Gabe what he wanted to hear as he did have a valid point.

"I suppose not."

"And the others really reinforced the fact that the world goes on," Gabe responded, shaking Caleb's shoulder lightly. "They made you laugh. Just like the old times but they made sure the subject was up-to-date. It would've been easy to remind you of happier times but I really think they reminded you even now, at your darkest, you can make it bright again."

A soft snort left him. "On one level, I'm not sure if they're capable of being so diabolical but at the same time, I totally buy that explanation." He smiled at Gabe. "So what comes next?"

The big, burly chef stood up straight. "Now... Now comes the hardest part. Now you learn to let go. Move on. But remember it all and just grow stronger for it. What helps me is to take a deep breath... hold it for ten seconds, put all my worries, all my fears and all my misery into that breath... and then let it out." As an example, Gabe took a deep breath, closing his eyes and lifting his paws up his broad, muscular chest. Ten seconds later, he let it out slowly. Caleb caught the faintest fleck of a tear from the corner of the panda's eyes.

"You've been through this too, huh?" he asked.

Gabe smiled at him. "Back then, I kept asking myself 'If I had been a better father, would Migs and Izzy have gotten in that car crash?' But I know I can't change the past. I can't live in regret. I can only use it to make myself strong, use it to push myself forward and hope for the best." He grinned at Caleb and clapped the young wolf's shoulder. "And my hope brought you to me, kiddo. You really saved my business and my boys."

For a second Gabe looked like he was going to hug Caleb... but then he lowered his arms. "Thank you."

"No," Caleb responded with a smile, a genuine bright smile. "Thank you for sharing. Thanks for helping me."

Gabe gave Caleb one light nudge and pushed the rest of the take away bag towards him. "Hey, glad to be of help. Here, the rest is yours. I'll see you at work tomorrow?"

"Count on it."

As the panda turned to leave Caleb watched him go and enter _Hero Taco_which was packed with customers. His heart felt like it had been lifted knowing that Gabe had taken the time to talk to him even with business calling. Lenny didn't look too pleased with that. Caleb decided to take that ten second breath before his short-fused co-worker caught up with him.

He turned to look back at the ocean and its calm waves.

Closing his eyes, he took a long, deep breath.

The guilt over killing those innocent people, the fear of doing it all over again by mistake, the insecurity of his future and the misery of letting all those around him down pooled into his cheeks, swirling about and desperately trying to claw their way back down his throat and to his heart. Part of him was tempted to let it because it felt right to feel bad about those that he had killed. That part he pushed into his muzzle as well.

Then... he let it out, pushing all of those negative thoughts out between his lips and letting it wash out into the breeze. He waited another ten seconds, unwilling to breathe in the paranoid belief that if he so much as took a breath, some of the dark emotions still in the air would seep back into his system.

Upon opening his eyes, he took in the soft dark blue of the night sky, the indigo sheen of the beach, the glistening lights of the stars against the ocean and the bright orange glow from the lamps across the street. The air was fresh, clean, crisp and it filled him with its cooling touch. If he could sprout wings at that moment, he knew he would've flown.

All those feelings that had weight him down were replaced with new sensations... Something old, something he had always felt and something new. His determination to stop the Gene Stealers seeped through his arms and legs, urging them to move. The need to protect those he loved, steeled his heart. And now... his eyes were opened to the fact that he was still learning, he was still growing and when he made mistakes, he could only learn from them to become even stronger.

He was reminded of a saying in his favourite fantasy series. "Own it. Let it go. Learn."

His phone abruptly rung and he fumbled through his jacket for it.

The number was his father's.

"Dad?" he asked, upon answered.

"Wolf Christ, Caleb! Where have you been!?"

"Erm..." He glanced around as if realising for the first time where he had been. "Threshold Boulevard. In front of Hero Taco. Why?"

Somewhere in the background he heard someone - he thought it was Mary - saying, "See? I told you he was there." There was a screech and a crash and he guessed Rhiannon was there too.

"Caleb, how fast can you get across town to MMNC Tower?"

"Um... I didn't take Ballistic with me so... I uh... Maybe half an hour? Maybe an hour depending on traffic?"

"Shit, Rhia, can you do anything?"

"Kind of occupied here!"

"Dad," Caleb demanded with rising urgency, "What's going on?"

"I just need you here right now_! We set up a live interview with Weapons Master for the seven o'clock episode of Zombie Oprah! I was hoping talking about the..._ thing in public would help you come to terms with it. And she apparently has the power to even bring back the dead but that's never been confirmed so... You know. Why the hell did I ever think this was a good idea!? Now I can't even leave because -"

Caleb was about to ask the same question when he checked his watch. It was six twenty-six! A familiar roar filled his ears and he spun towards the road. Ballistic road up, disguised as a normal motorcycle. The rider was big and originally not someone he recognised. When he pulled off his helmet, Caleb exclaimed, "Leon?"

His eldest brother grinned at him and threw him his helmet. "I have no_idea why anyone else didn't come here first." He jumped off Ballistic and hurriedly ushered Caleb to the bike. "Come on. You've got a little over half an hour to get to _Zombie Oprah."

"I didn't know you knew how to ride a motorcycle," Caleb said, leaping on the bike.

Leon shrugged. "Eh, ever since you got motorcycle lessons, I've secretly been jealous. Took me months to get enough money to get the lessons. Then I couldn't afford my own bike so I sort of snuck rides on Ballistic when you weren't looking."

Caleb rolled his eyes and jammed his helmet on. He pulled up the visor before saying, "We'll need to discuss that after this."

"Sure thing, little bro," Leon replied with a shrug. "Welcome back."

******

"And we're back."

As the crowd died down and the 'Applause' sign flicked off, Zombie Oprah beamed brightly at the audience, making sure to stare directly at the directed camera. "Now, our next guests are West California Island's newest and hottest sensation. They're relatively new but have saved countless from the Gene Stealers. Please welcome, Aaaaaaaaaarsenaaaaaaal!"

Another cheer went up from the crowd. The show director stepped aside and gestured for Blade Babe to make her way on stage. Mary, dressed in her Outsider uniform jogged in place, taking a few deep breaths before putting on her most dazzling smile and pulled out her twin blades. She stepped up onto stage to the roar of the crowd as she spun her blades for her amusement. Just for show, she tossed them up into the air before cartwheeling forward. For the briefest of moments, the crowd fell silent as she came right side up arms spread wide. Her swords slipped past her and straight into the scabbards by her hips perfectly.

The crowd ate it up as she took her place on the couch opposite to Zombie Oprah with the coffee table between them.

"Show off," grunted Madman.

Lars stepped forward at the prompting of the show director. Not to be outdone, Lars coated himself in an aura of bright, blue flames and stepped onto the stage. As he approached the couch, the aura shattered, exploding into a flock of bright, blue birds made completely out of flames. One landed on his paw as he moved towards their host. He leaned down to her, offering the fiery bird. Zombie Oprah gave it a light caress, stunning the crowd that it didn't burn.

"Supers," Ben growled. He was next and just strode onto the studio, taking up position behind Lars and Mary, arms folded. Though he got his fair amount of cheers as well, he didn't put up any insane displays for the enjoyment of the crowd.

"Don't feel pressured to do anything overly showy," David whispered into Caleb's ear.

Caleb swallowed loudly and wondered for the thirtieth time why he thought this was a good idea.

Madman strode onto the set, giving everyone an eyeful by flexing his enormous muscles. He got a very loud, very numerous wolf whistles as he did a showed off his mountainous back, veins popping all over his arms and legs. When seated next to the smaller Ben, it looked like a big brother standing next to a smaller sibling.

Bren adjusted his pressed black suit and took a deep breath. Seeing the FBI agent look somewhat nervous was a little comforting Caleb. But all those nerves vanished when Bren slipped on a pair of concealed, black sunglasses. Confidence exuded from him as he strode on stage and moved to their host. There, he bent down, gently picked up her hand and gave it a very delicate, very classy kiss. Without another word and with women in the crowd swooning, Bren took up position beside the couch.

"My turn," David said, clapping his son comfortingly on the shoulder. "Just be yourself, okay Caleb?"

In that moment, David Hale switched to Feral Steel as he marched onto the stage with countless fans cheering. He stepped off the stage and into the seated crowds where he found a group of Feral Steel fans. There he ushered them all of their seats and into a quick group picture. This again drove the crowd mad. Once a few pictures were taken, he shook a few more paws and hands before heading up to the couch, seating himself down with room for one more.

"You're up, Weapons Master," the show manager said.

Taking a deep breath, Caleb stepped out of the shadows of backstage and into the blaring light of the spotlights. He instinctively lifted his paw to block the light before he realised he didn't want to look like an inexperienced pup, not on national television. Turning the lifted paw quickly into a wave, he strode across the stage to the couch, just smiling and waving as the crowd cheered. There was a whole row of Weapons Master fans, mostly guys, and some of them cosplaying as one of his various forms.

Sitting down on that couch offered little respite as Zombie Oprah began calming the crowd down.

"For those of you who do not know," she began, "Arsenal is West California Island's own Outsider group that has helped stem the tide of the Gene Stealer outbreaks and recently, even participated in taking down an old nemesis of their mentor, Feral Steel."

Another cheer erupted from the crowd. There were a group of super-macho humans at the front row who pulled up their shirts to reveal that they had painted the letters of 'STEEL' on their ripped abdominals. Caleb was fairly sure his father blushed at the sight.

"But how much do we really know about this group?" she continued. "That's what we're here to find out!" She turned towards the tallest of the group, Madman. The cameras panned towards him and Caleb tried not to make his sigh of relief too obvious.

"Madman," Zombie Oprah began, "you were a former member of Gnoll's army, one of the first Gene Stealers to become public. But why did you make the switch from villain sidekick to hero?"

"The pay," Madman grunted with a big grin to the laughter of everyone in the audience. "But in all honesty? It's cuz being a villain and a sidekick to a villain is lonely. Sure you have a hell of a lot of fun and there's nothing like stirring up a little bit of trouble to get the blood pumping. But really, before I was this hunk of juicy muscle..." He flexed a bicep, causing men and women to swoon. "... I was a fat, miserable, lonely manager for a steel mill. No way in hell am I going to get someone in my arms and to cuddle with at night."

Madman fans all let out a soft 'awww' as the huge hyena revealed that beneath his muscles and trouble past was a soft, lonely guy that wanted someone to be there beside him. No doubt many people were already fantasising of them being 'the one' for the biggest member of Arsenal. He had delivered it in such a way that he didn't lose any bit of his bad boy image.

"Well I'm sure you'll find someone," Zombie Oprah said. "And here's something to all you victims of the recent Gene Stealer attacks: it isn't the end of the world. Don't lose hope."

Another cheer ran through the crowd as Oprah next turned to Lars.

"Speaking on conversions, Flare Blue, you lived a rather interesting triple_life. You were Flare Blue of _Arsenal, Firebrand of the Elemental Alliance and I assume your normal identity. What made you throw your lot with Arsenal?"

Lars let out a very controlled, very professional chuckle. "Well, I'll admit it mostly had to do with this guy's anti-Outsider comments." He hiked a thumb at Feral Steel who smiled and raised his paws, admitting to his comments. "I wanted to prove to the world that even Outsiders can be heroes. I mean, it doesn't matter how strong you are, what your powers are or where you come from..." He gave Madman a convincing fist bump over his shoulder. "If you want to do good, you're a hero. I mean, let's not forget that there are brave men and women out there who are do not have powers but show more courage and determination than any of us."

Zombie Oprah nodded sagely. "Feral Steel? What about you? Your switch from being an outspoken anti-Outsider activist to being the mentor of Arsenal?"

David let out a sheepish grin. "Well, I'll admit that I had my misgivings with the Outsiders. I really just wanted to make sure that they did not hurt themselves or others." He looked genuinely at their hostess. "I'll admit, I had prior experiences with an Outsider, someone who was dear to me and I lost. I will admit to being blinded by that one moment in my past but I realised that I could live in the past. The world is changing and like Flare Blue said, everyone deserves to be a hero. Everyone is a hero."

Caleb realised to his rising dread that everyone was effectively repeating the same thing. They were speaking in synch with one another, probably a story they practiced while he was out of it! They also had media training. What if he said something that derailed their story?

Before panic could set in, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath... and did just as Gabe instructed him. He let it out slowly, pushing out all his troubles with it.

Then he felt his dad clap him on the shoulder.

"My son taught me that."

The crowd suddenly fell silent. Somewhere back stage, he saw the stage manager drop his clipboard in shock.

"Wait a minute," Zombie Oprah said. She pointed a finger first at David then at Caleb. "Are you saying...?"

David pulled Caleb into a tight shoulder-to-shoulder hug, grinning at Oprah. Caleb mirrored the grin. "Yes. I am Weapons Master's father."

Their hostess slapped her armrests as the crowd exploded into a miniature media frenzy, questions flying everywhere. Like the master of media that he was, Feral Steel waited a good long minute before starting to calm down the crowd.

"Long story short," said David, "I lost someone dear to me who was also an Outsider. I suspected my son to be an Outsider as well and my fanatical obsession with keeping him safe blinded me to the plight of the other Outsiders out there." He turned directly towards the camera. "And for that, I apologise. Everyone deserves to be a hero." He then turned to Caleb. "And I'm sorry I didn't realise that sooner."

Caleb felt his chest tighten. He was grateful that his tear ducts were still mostly dry because he could've cried an ocean then. The best he could manage was to fling his arms around his dad's neck and hold him tightly.

That silenced the crowd.

Zombie Oprah let out saw content sigh, pressing her hands against her chest and mustering a few tears. "Oh... Don't you just love that? It brings a tear to my eyes."

Caleb was loathed to prise himself from his dad but quickly composed himself and coughed softly, offering a sheepish grin.

"When we come back," their hostess announced. "We'll talk to the rest of Arsenal."

They took a quick break for commercials without much time to prepare as the show manager came rushing in and immediately began talking to them. Asking if it was too much to ask to elaborate on the relationship between Caleb and David. Taking charge once more, David said that it was a little too private and he'd rather not divulge it. Zombie Oprah agreed so the progress of questions would go next to Ben - talking about a villain joining a hero group - then Mary, then Bren and finally to Caleb.

When the show returned to air, Ben was nonchalant about his involvement, remaining gruff and fierce. No threats were made but he did mention that being part of Arsenal was in the interest of keeping the Gene Stealers at bay. He finished off with a very dismissive, 'everyone can be a hero' line that the others had been murmured.

Mary's turn was a little more feminist, mentioning how she was the only public female member of Arsenal. There was mention of Rhiannon, not being the Hound of Destruction but just a brief mention of 'another' but Mary didn't go into it. She made a joke about being known as 'Blade Bitch' because most of the men she worked with were gay and she was likely the reason.

Bren was the most enigmatic.

When asked about his involvement with the Outsider Initiative, his response was, "Sorry, that's classified."

When asked about his role in Arsenal, he said, "To be the liaison between the United States government and Arsenal, provide field support, manage accounts and organise public events such as this."

The next question asked about who he was before being part of _Arsenal_and his answer was, "Sorry, that's classified."

Did he have any superpowers?

"Sorry, that's classified."

How did he keep coming back to life after visibly dying? This question was followed a montage of Bren's more comical deaths.

"Sorry, that's classified."

"Well, in that case, I believe we have come to the topic that's on everyone's minds." Zombie Oprah turned to Caleb. "Weapons Master, three days ago, you killed thirty people with your powers. You had mistaken them for Gene Stealer Thralls, people who have had their mental capacities completely overwritten by the Originals. In fact, they were just victims slowly recovering their minds." She immediately leaned back in her seat, holding up her perfectly manicured hands. "No one is accusing you of anything, mind you. We know it was an honest mistake and supers do it all the time. But what is going through your mind right now? How are you feeling?"

Feral Steel spoke up. "Oprah, the topic is still fresh for such a young and talented -"

Caleb gripped his dad's leg. "Actually, I'd like to answer this."

Arsenal frozeand stared at him anxiously. Leaning forward, Caleb regarded Zombie Oprah with a dazzling smile. "First of all, you look dazzling this evening, Oprah. A thousand years doesn't even looked like it touched you over forty."

Oprah turned to the crowd, fanning herself while the crowd let out another theatrical 'ooh'.

"And if I may be honest," Caleb said, before quickly turning to the camera man. "And don't you dare bleep this out." He turned back to Oprah. "I feel like fucking shit."

The entire studio fell silent.

"You said that other supers have killed before. I understand that. Other supers make mistakes. I've heard there are others that have made worse ones than me. But they aren't me. I can't just brush this under the rug and dismiss those people as another statistic. I can't imagine each and everyone one of those people as being just a number under 'Number of Innocent People Weapons Master has killed'. They had lives. They had families. They had futures, histories and stories that deserve to be continued." Just to fall in line with the rest of his team, he said, "They could've been heroes" with genuine regret hanging off every one of his words.

Caleb wrung his paws. "But I can't turn back the clock or take back what I did. I wish I could but I can't. I'm pretty sure meddling in the timeline was banned a long time ago."

"And the paperwork to even get a permit is monumental," Feral Steel laughed. "In fact there was -"

Whack!

"Dude, let him finish," Madman growled, pulling his paw back from where he had slapped the side of David's head.

"Thanks," Caleb said with a smile. "My point is, I can apologise until all life on Earth ends but that won't bring them back. All I can do is either hang up my suit and stop being Weapons Master -" Oprah leaned forward, her lips open in protest while the hundreds of Weapons Master fans in the crowd did the same "- or just keep fighting, learning from this mistake and growing stronger. And if this event has taught me anything, it's that I have the power to help people. There are going to be bumps in the road. There will be _enormous_roadblocks and maybe even dead ends. But if I were to stop now, then I would never be able to look myself in the mirror, watch another news report or even step outside without feeling like I could've done something to make the world a better place. I'll just have to carry this with me wherever I go and be the best hero I can be."

He held his paws up and leaned back into his seat. "That's all I have to say on the topic. Happy to take any questions though."

...

When only silence met him, his heart began to plummet. His heartbeat began pounding in his ears, a loud, deep,thumping that slowly began to grow louder and louder like his heart was about to burst from his chest...

... then he realised that wasn't his heart at all...

It was the strange sound of applause.

He looked across the set to Zombie Oprah slowly applauding. She stood up. The thunderous bangs of Madman's massive paws slamming into one another were the deep bass missed with the thousands of other claps emanating from the crowd. One by one, the front row from the audience rose, adding their cheers to their applause. Like watching a wave receding into the distance, the audience rose to their feet, each of them applauding. The applause sign wasn't even on. David shook his shoulder, gripping it tightly in a fatherly gesture with a broad grin on his muzzle. He got a little nudge from Lars beside him and a big smile from Mary with a little prideful nod to boot.

Oprah calmed the crowd and sat back down.

"In all my years, I have only seen very few supers with the level of modesty, humility and connection with the people that you have, Weapons Master. And you aren't even a super!" That got a laugh from everyone, Caleb included. "But now, let's turn to something a little more scandalous. What's this I hear about you coming out of the closet?"

Inspired and feeling positively pumped with energy, Caleb broke into a big grin and said, "Closet? What closet? There never was a closet. Just that no one ever asked what I preferred better, guys or girls. But there were clues. I mean, each of my alternate forms is always big, buff and some stereotype of a gay guy's fantasy right?" He began counting them off while his father rolled his eyes. "I mean my hyena form is basically the savage, untamed jungle king." On the screens, he saw a stock image of him in his hyena form in a very masculine pose - slamming his fists into the ground to summon bones form the ground. "And my bull form is the tough, gruff gladiator that you know is really a lover inside." Again, the images on the screens changed to show his bull form.

"That's true," Oprah laughed. "I guess we were all just waiting for some concrete proof."

Caleb's eyes glinted with mischief.

Mary let out loud groan.

"You want proof? How about this?"

Without warning, Caleb seized Lars shoulders and dragged the Doberman across his lap. The crowd was just about halfway through their gasp when Caleb planted his lips firmly on his best friend and sort-of-maybe-boyfriend's, going straight for the tongue and even going so far as to grip the back of Lars' head while stealing a grope.

Needless to say, the entire crowd went wild.

******

"He certainly bounced back quickly." Spider Queen racked her sharp nails across the screen as the topic of conversation went into any intimate relationships the members of Arsenal may have. "I had so hoped to meet him in the field of battle while he was weak, snivelling and tormented by those he had killed."

"That would have been bad," Dragon Knight said. "He would then divert all his anger and frustration towards us. From what I have seen and observed, we have yet to fully see the rage of Weapons Master."

"Afraid of the little pup?" came the sneering taunt.

"Deathly so. You realise that it was with his blood that cures for the other strains were made." Dragon Knight eyed his teammate from the corner of his eye. "How effective do you honestly think you would be if he developed a cure for your strain or obtained a similar form to your own?"

Spider Queen snorted loudly and ran her hands down her supple waist. "He could never capture my beauty and grace."

"Those won't matter in the end." Dragon Knight switched off the feed. "I heard you have been accepting offers from villains to grant them the power we have. You realise the serum is still unstable, right?"

She fanned herself. "Of course I do."

"Then why do you promise them something we cannot grant?"

"What I promise them is vengeance on the heroes that put them low," answered Spider Queen with a sinister grin. "I never promised them the perfection we all seek. If they are so narrow minded to want nothing beyond petty vengeance, then they can have it. Less competition in the end."

"You realise we still need supers, both villainous and heroic, in the end. We cannot have them eliminated or disabled like Zapper."

Spider Queen lifted an eyebrow at him. "I know. I just enjoy toying with their fragile emotions." She wiggled her fingers, her blade-like nails clashing against one another. "Whatever happened to Zapper by the way?"

A loud roar erupted from somewhere deep within the base. For a brief moment, the screens in front of the two Gene Stealers flickered.

"Shark Tamer used his unique powers to create a dummy. They still think that Zapper is being kept in Mu. I've since relocated him."

Spider Queen chuckled softly. "Keeping him to yourself? My, and here I thought the stoic and loyal Dragon Knight never gave into his carnal urges." She leaned forward, gently tracing the lines of his reptilian jaw. "You surprise me. What's it like riding that thick, pulsating cock?"

A shimmering blue disc suddenly appeared beside Dragon Knight's jaw and Spider Queen's arm up to the elbow vanished through it. The disc shrunk and winked out of existence, severing the arachnid Gene Stealer's limb from the elbow down. She didn't even flinch or show any signs of pain as she straightened, blood seeping out from the stump.

"Ouch," she stated blatantly.

"It was through your and Wendigo's questioning and taunting that Zapper was turned into the beast that he is now," Dragon Knight growled. "Chimera needed to demonstrate to you and that cannibalistic maniac that without him, you would just be another Outsider in a sea of faces that barely knows your name. He showed you that he has a plan, he has a future in sight and your constant signs of doubt and insubordination could very well jeopardize our efforts to bring them down."

Spider Queen locked her jaw and remained silent.

"Do I need to remind you what we're here for?" growled the dragon.

"Of course not," she answered.

"Then I suggest you fall in line." Dragon Knight spun on his heel just as another shimmering, blue portal appeared in front of him.

"You can't save him," Spider Queen announced suddenly. "You can't save _any_of them. They're too far gone. Little more than a Gen 1 only there is no cure. You can't rely on Weapons Master to come in and bring them back to sanity."

"And whose fault is that?" he snarled.

"You mistake me for someone who cares for the wretch."

Unwilling to rise to the bait, Dragon Knight stepped through the portal and into a lonely cavern without a single door or window. A single air vent allowed its sole occupant to breathe but there was little else in the room. Furniture lay scattered and shattered all over the floor, some burned to cinders from the electrical bolts that the room's occupant fired in his primal rage.

"Zachariah."

The enormous, massively muscular racoon spun, yellow eyes blazing both with power and anger. A thunderous roar escaped Zigzag Zapper's muzzle. He charged, carrying his massive twenty-foot size across the room, every step from his huge feet and massive thighs causing the room the quake.

Dragon Knight didn't even blink as Zapper suddenly halted in front of him, just outside the reach of those massive, muscular arms. The coon's massive thighs had junk into two portals on the ground, stuck there and unmoving. Froth gathered at the corners of the racoon's lips as he desperately tried to claw from the Knight. Bolts of lightning shot from his fingertips, more an uncontrollable reflex than a true mastery of electrical currents. Where the bolts drew close to Dragon Knight, blue portals opened up to intercept, carrying them harmlessly into some storm in the middle of the Atlantic.

"Do you know who I am?" Dragon Knight asked.

He just got another roar as a reply and more lightning bolts. Deciding on taking a different tactic, Dragon Knight said, "Do you know who Feral Steel is?"

For a second, the racoon's eyes widened then the blinding rage returned. Lightning gathered in the coon's muzzle, causing a bright, shining, golden light to erupt between his fangs. Zapper let out one more shout, unleashing a focused beam of pure energy at Dragon Knight.

"That's new," Dragon Knight said with a soft smile. Another portal appeared, taking the bolt harmlessly into space.

Just as Zapper closed his muzzle to make another attempt, Dragon Knight was suddenly upon him, one hand gently pressed against the coon's muscular chest and the other cupping the coon's cheeks.

"You deserve a reward."

What hatred and primal rage had been in the former supervillain's eyes vanished as Dragon Knight pressed their lips together. The monster of a cock the racoon sported began to fill with blood, his balls churning in excitement.

In the silence of the solitary room within the enormous caverns, the raging beast was calmed.

Though the dozens more kept in their own rooms awoke.

All of them raging fires waiting to be quenched.

******

After the show, Caleb was carrying a very large gift basket filled with an assortment of goodies from his host. He thought he saw some car keys in there as well but he wasn't sure. It was big enough that he had to carry in in both arms and couldn't see over the top. He set it down in front of the 'supers' exit' at the back of Mega Media News Corporation Tower which was a cloaked area of the tower made to look like part of the building for supers to use after any interviews.

Beside him were the rest of the team, comparing each of their personalised gift baskets.

He caught sight of Lars and headed towards the Doberman. His father's shape intercepted him.

"That was pretty ballsy, what you did up there, son," David said, a proud smile on his muzzle.

"Um... the thing about moving on and becoming stronger or the _other_thing?"

Before he got a response, David caught his son in a headlock and gave him a quick ruffle of his hair. "You're a natural, kiddo! What you said was precise, emotional, honest and to the point! Anyone who tries to spin that any other way will just be seen as nit-pickers and troublemakers! And that kiss! Whooo! You know how to work a crowd!"

Caleb prised himself from his father's grip, laughing softly. "I guess it comes from being the star receiver for a couple of months."

David's smile faded slightly. "On a more serious note, are you doing okay?"

Returning the smile, Caleb said, "No. I don't think I'll ever be the same, Dad. But that's not necessarily a bad thing." He shrugged his father's embrace away. "I learned today that I've always got my family and friends looking out for me and that when you do something wrong, the only _sensible_thing to do is to learn from it and grow stronger." Using Gabe's own words, he said, "I can't live in regret. I can only use it to make myself strong, use it to push myself forward and hope for the best ."

David grinned and patted his shoulder. "Glad to hear it, Caleb. Glad to hear it." He hiked a thumb over his shoulder. "I'll take your gift basket back home. See you back there, okay? But you may want to ride around a little. Your mother was watching and I've just been informed by a rather colourful text to distract you for an hour while she whips up a congratulatory dinner."

Expecting another Hale Family Feast, Caleb grinned and said, "Sure thing, Dad. I'll take my time."

As David Hale headed away, Caleb found himself staring at Mary.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," she greeted with a broad grin.

"Glad to be back," he answered. Remembering what Gabe said about how his friends had psychologically manipulated him, he realised only one person could have coordinated the effort, having known him so well. "Thanks by the way."

Her grin faltered and she lifted an eyebrow at him. "Um... Caleb... We didn't do any of those things that Gabe said we did."

He laughed softly and gave her should a light shove. "Come on. I'm good now. No need to keep lying to preserve my 'fragile sense of sanity'. I'm fine, really. I'm not going to break down."

"No," she said seriously. "We really didn't. We had a daily cycle of attempts to get you to snap out of it. From five to six every morning, it was your dad's turn. From six to about noon, it was Lance's turn. Then it would be mine from noon to about one and then Ben's after that. It would've been Lars' turn if Rhiannon hadn't interrupted."

"Today..."

"We were a little messed up because you actually responded," Mary responded. "That and Rhiannon decided to step in again." She spat the Hound of Destruction's name. "Seriously. We didn't make some intricate plot to guide your fragile psyche through a trip of spiritual enlightenment or anything. Lance has been laying down fact after fact of super mistakes on you each day. I've been trying to talk to you at your favourite places on my turns. I took you to the Hollywood Sign."

"What!? Really!?" Caleb exclaimed, eyes wide. "You know how much I love sitting on the big H! How did I miss that!?"

Mary shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know. You didn't even flinch after you fell off."

"I fell off?" Caleb scratched the back of his head. "That would explain the short-term memory loss." He eyes here suspiciously. "You really didn't take me to the Hollywood Sign, did you?"

"Nope."

"You're just messing with me since you confessed that you had no organisation whatsoever in your plans to cheer me up."

"Yup."

"You're just doing this because you know that every second away from Lars is agony after that smoking hot, live-on-air, toe-curling, heart-stopping kiss."

"Absolutely."

"You're a bitch."

"Biggest there is." She slipped behind him and slapped his back. "Go get him."

Caleb gave her a sarcastic smile and a roll of his eyes before head to where Lars was holding a bottle of lube and comparing it to the enormous one Madman had received. The massive hyena saw him and quickly excused himself. The moment that Lars turned to him, Caleb just shook his head in disbelief.

"What's wrong?" Lars asked, rubbing his own cheeks. "Is there something on my face?"

"No," Caleb answered with a soft smile. "I could point out that's exactly the problem considering how my lips aren't around yours but I think you used that line on a girl once and got bitch slapped."

Lars chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah... I was dumped there and then. You took me to a movie and we pretended to be straight the whole time."

"I was straight. You were in the closet. Lance corrupted me, remember?"

"Right, right."

The conversation quickly died though Caleb found it incredibly adorable how the canine who was on the field, confidently barking orders and slamming his body into others was now looking down at his feet, a blush so hard on his cheeks that it was actually visible against his dark fur.

"So, do you accept?" Caleb asked.

"Huh?" Lars asked, lifting his ears and head. "Accept what?"

"My date request. I practically asked you out with that stunt in football practice last week. A few minutes ago I just kissed you on live television. I still haven't heard a 'yes' or 'no'."

Lars blinked a couple of times, his lips opening and closing multiple times like a fish out of water. "Yes! Of course yes! Hell yes!" He ran a paw through his hair. "Shit... I don't know why I haven't answered sooner! I mean, with the play, football, college, Arsenal, rent, food and everything else... I just... I'm sorry man. I haven't even gotten a suit yet... Fuck, do I need to get a limo? Double-fuck! Do I have the money...?"

Worry lines began to cross Lars' brow as he held out his paws. "Okay, okay, don't worry Cale. I'll get us a limo. Hell, you know what?" He began pointing at Caleb, quickly panicking. "We're going to go to Seattle before the dance. Dinner at the Space Needle! Wait! We've got the game beforehand!"

Caleb made to interrupt but his best friend and date seemed to be in his own world.

"Fuck! Okay, after! Yeah, the game starts at five so it'll finish around eight. Dance will be at nine. We make a showing, party a little then head to the Space Needle. But what if we get caught up...? What if there's another attack!? Crap! Crap! Crap! Fuckity-fuck-fuck!"

Caleb finally moved, wrapping his arms around Lars' broad chest and gripping the dog's thick, muscular back. A chill ran down his spine knowing that he couldn't even link his paws together when Lars was pressed against him like that. He pulled the panicking Doberman to him, their lips colliding. Lars murmured a few more words in his muzzle before his eyes fluttered to a close and he moaned softly.

He broke the kiss, pressing his nose against Lars'. "You wanna spend the night at my place?"

Lars smiled softly. "Yeah... Yeah, I'd like that."