Young Writers Society

A/N again, apologies for the weirdly cut-up chapter. I'll straighten out POV issues later, but for now, enjoy a long chapter that's pretty much two shorter ones squished together.

EMMA POV

Emma stared at the battered young man slumped over on her couch.

"Rift?" she asked, incredulous. "You're here?"

He gave her a weak smile, but he didn't answer at first. His face was pale, and he was hunched over slightly, gripping his side. He looked very small curled in like that, much shorter than most college guys she'd met. There was a woman sitting beside him, perched on the couch arm. Her expression was unreadable behind the black mask. Emma didn't know her.

Celeste watched Rift with a furrowed brow, arms crossed over her chest. "His name is Eli."

Eli lifted a few fingers in confirmation. He leaned into the cushions, eyelids fluttering.

"Um," he said, his voice small. "I think I need to sleep now. Been a long day, and all that..."

Celeste swept over to him immediately. Her face was drawn, closed off, but Emma saw the tension in her shoulders. She was worried about him.

"He was shot, earlier," Celeste explained as she crouched beside Eli. His eyes widened in surprise when she lifted his arm and examined his side. "Were you there?"

Emma nodded, the vivid memory of flame and steaming metal still fresh in her mind. "Yes."

Celeste came back towards the door and crouched before a cabinet, pulling out the medical kit. The two of them were very familiar with patching up after rougher days with various villains.

"So he got shot," Celeste's voice dropped, a hint of anger glinting at the edges. "And you didn't help him?"

Emma gave her roommate a sharp glance. "They bombed the factory. I had to help everyone get out first." She looked back at Rift, a stab of guilt lancing through her at the defeated, exhausted expression on his face. He looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open. "I didn't know that it was this bad."

"The police found him. He's trying to lay low with us."

Emma's eyes slid to the other woman on the couch, the stranger, who had fixed keen eyes on the pair by the door.

"And her?"

Celeste growled, swiftly rising to her feet with the medical kit in hand. "I don't know her. A vigilante from out of town. Sounds like she pushed Rift around a bit before they got here."

She jerked her chin in Eli's direction. "Come on. We need to fix him before he passes out on us."

Emma hesitated. She needed to help him. She was the pre-med student, after all, but there was a guilt that sank into her bones. Was it her fault that he was in such a rough way?

All the more reason to help him.

Emma brushed the guilt away and joined Celeste at the couch.

Her roommate tenderly lifted Eli's arm, then his shirt, exposing his injured side. A crimson starburst of blood showed through the tan bandage. Emma crouched down and started picking at the adhesive, and Eli went along with it without a word of protest.

"Did you patch this?" Celeste asked him. Eli just turned his head to the side, his eyes closed to slits.

"I did," the vigilante said. She was watching them like a bird of prey, swiveling her gaze from one to the other. "It isn't very deep, but he opened it again on our way here."

Celeste curled her lip. "Or it opened from your interrogation practices."

The woman smiled. "If I'm not mistaken, beating him up is your job, Zenith."

Celeste's eyes flashed. "I'm not Zenith right now. And I've never hurt him like this."

Emma waved their argument away. "Come on. We don't need this right now." She glanced at Celeste. "He needs water. And maybe some food."

Celeste gave a stiff nod and went to the kitchen. Emma could hear the water running and the fridge snapping closed.

She shifted the medical box closer to her and examined the wound. It was shallow and clean, without any fragments or shrapnel. Still, he'd need a few stitches. She had treated her own bumps and bruises enough times to know what was necessary. Celeste came back with a wet cloth, then went back to the kitchen.

Emma pressed the cloth against his skin. Eli flinched.

"Sorry," she whispered. She tried to ignore the other bruises and cuts that had bloomed on his chest and arms. There were some old scars, too, and she couldn't help but wonder if she or Celeste had contributed for the sake of appearances.

Why had she taken that damn job, again? It seemed terribly ironic, really. A doctor-in-training treating the very person she had harmed. What kind of terrible person was she?

She swallowed her guilt and pulled out her surgical needle and thread.

"Hey, Rift. Uh. Eli," Celeste's voice came from the kitchen. Eli lifted his head and looked blearily in her direction. Celeste held up the bright blue tea kettle.

"Do you like tea?"

Eli's expression cleared ever so slightly. "Yes."

"What kind?"

"I'm going to start the stitches," Emma interrupted softly. Eli nodded, his fists clenching. But when the needle went in, he turned back to Celeste, an uncanny shine in his eyes.

"What tea do you have?"

***

BATTERY / ANIYAH POV

Eli clutched a steaming cup of lavender earl gray to his chin, inhaling the sweet scent. His injured side was covered again. The fresh stitches, bandages and ointment surely felt cool and clean against the feverish skin Aniyah had felt on their walk over, and as he drank more, he seemed to perk up. Aniyah tried not to feel relieved by this.

The two Zeniths sat on the small coffee table across from him, faces pinched in concern. It was obvious that they were very good friends from how close they sat to each other, how easy they were in conversation, how they had silent discussions with their eyes. Aniyah wondered if this had happened before or after they'd become Zenith, if the Zenith persona had always been run by a duo from the start.

Eli hadn't moved from the old, comfy couch since he'd sat down, and his eyelids drooped with exhaustion. Aniyah didn't know why, but he acted like he actually felt safe here. She had to admit, she would never have expected such concern from those heroes, much less medical attention. It was as if they were his friends. In this cozy apartment, she could almost forget about the looming threats just outside, the bombs that went off only hours earlier, the kidnapping of Sebastian. Almost.

Silence hung heavy in the air.

"This 's good," Eli murmured, his voice rough. The condensation from the steam clung to his nose. "Thanks."

Emma gave him a soft smile, her dark braids hanging down like black ropes. "Feeling better?"

Eli forced a smile back. "All things considered? Yeah."

Celeste picked at her bantu knots. "We need a plan. There's no way that the Program won't come to us next."

Emma tilted her head. "Really? But they wouldn't know that he knows who we are. We may have some time."

Eli hunched his shoulders and stared into his tea. "I... I didn't mean to put you all in danger."

Aniyah watched them, puzzling together this situation. If what Rift/ Eli had told her was true, that he had been framed by the Program and set up for a situation that he had no way of winning, then this meant that the Program was the true antagonist. Rift was really a naive, poor college student and had been cruelly taken advantage of. A victim. If what he had told her was true, the Rift's crimes were shared by, or even fully the fault of, the Program.

Celeste waved his apology away. "This is a mess that we'd all have gotten involved with one way or another. I don't think the Program would have left us alone forever."

"Besides," Emma said. "What kind of heroes would we be if we didn't help you?"

Aniyah didn't want to believe that the villain was the victim. She preferred the strict moral black and whites. She wanted this situation to be as simple as arresting a singular man who could be held accountable. But in this world, true justice rarely came so easy. And if the Program was responsible for its villains, what did that say of its heroes? Were the Zeniths actually true of heart, or were they just as grey as Rift had proven to be?

And what about that list? Aniyah's name hadn't been on it, so perhaps the list only included man-made, or Program-created, supers. But how many of them had been framed like Eli? How many had been targeted like his friend Pyro?

Aniyah had known that there was something fishy about The Superhuman Project for a long while, but she'd thought that they'd been creating heroes only, not orchestrating the crimes, too. The fact that the villains might all be somewhat innocent, desperate young people made her stomach churn. And now, these young women were involved, too, simply because they had been nice enough to let an injured criminal and a stranger into their home.

She knew what she had to do, but she didn't like it.

"We need a safe house," she said. The others turned to her in surprise. "I have one we can go to."

"She speaks," Celeste commented dryly. Eli merely blinked.

"This house is safe enough for now," Emma protested after a brief hesitation. "They don't know that you're here."

"They know more than we think," Eli muttered. "They could be listening now."

They lapsed into silence again.

Celeste narrowed her eyes at Aliyah. "Besides, why would we trust you? We don't even know who you are."

Aniyah watched her steadily. "You know enough to know that you need me."

Celeste scoffed and pushed off the table, walking up to where Aniyah still sat on the arm of the couch, unflinching at Celeste's powerful glare.

"You're only here because you brought him." She pointed at Eli, who shrunk back like he'd been stung. "We only care about him. You could leave and fly back to Chicago and never come back for all I care."

Aniyah felt sorry for the girl, so hot-tempered and quick to attack. Her self-righteousness propelled her forward. "I patched him, didn't I? I brought him here, didn't I? I know too much to just wander harmlessly out of your lives, and I haven't betrayed you yet. I think you'd best listen to me."

"I think I'd best take a nap," Eli muttered, setting his mug down. "I don't want to run anymore."

Celeste's face crumpled with anger and indecision. She turned to Emma and spread her hands helplessly. Emma glanced up from her phone.

"I don't think we're completely safe here," Celeste growled. "I'm just saying that we don't know her. We can't trust her, but she's right. She knows too much now."

Emma considered this. "Do we have any other options?"

Celeste sighed. "My parents might take us."

"But do they check the news?" Emma gestured to her screen. "There are some stories popping up about the bombing, Rift's real name, Amber Alerts for his roommate." Emma glanced at Eli. "I'm sorry about him, by the way."

Eli didn't respond at first, his jaw tense. "There's nothing you could have done." He paused, then the blood ran out of his face. "Oh god."

Celeste snapped her gaze to him. "What?"

"My parents. My parents are going to see that... They'll see what I've..." He flopped his head back onto the cushions and closed his eyes. "Fuck."

Emma's eyes widened. "Celeste, if we help him, will the Program expose us, too?"

Celeste paced around the coffee table, running her hands over her knots. "I don't know. We're Zenith, and she's a pretty big name. Would they really off one of their big heroes so quickly? But the more that I think about it, I really don't think we should go to any of our family members. It could put them in danger." She stopped, her eyes boiling. "Which means that we might be forced to go with Ms. Mask, here."

"If the Program targets us," Emma corrected. "We don't know if they suspect us at all, yet."

"I think it's safe to assume that nowhere is safe," Celeste said. "They made that pretty obvious for Eli."

Eli sniffed. "And Atlas. And Seb. God," his voice cracked. "Do you think they're still alive?"

Celeste froze, but Emma leaned forward and put a hand on his knee. "We'll get you through this, Eli. And if we can, we'll find them."

Eli buried his face in his hands. "This is all because of me. I should never have stopped taking those stupid pills--"

Aniyah jerked her head towards him. "Pills?"

Emma nodded. "The power pills. It's how we maintain our specific abilities, since we aren't bios. But Eli, what do you--"

The window at the back of the room shattered, spraying out glass in a wave as a figure clad in black swung into the room. At the same time, the front door shuddered with a terrible force, cracking it down the center. A horrible crunching noise echoed from the bedrooms.

The four supers surged to their feet, assuming fighting positions. Aliyah saw the Zeniths nod, and suddenly the room was filled with the blinding, churning glare of plasma beams. Eli gave a choked gasp and darted behind the pair.

Aniyah vaguely remembered the power device that she'd stolen from him, now stuffed in her backpack. She'd left the kid defenseless.

People clad in black military gear flooded the room, guns raised. Before anyone could move further, Aliyah focused her attention on the car battery in her backpack. It was still almost fully charged, pressed against her back inside her small bag. Electricity coursed through her blood, causing her muscles to seize up and her vision to darken around the edges. She could see every electrical signature in the apartment, and some outside of it. She acted on instinct, targeting everyone except the three people beside her.

Her vision blacked out as she fired, the electricity exploding from her in miniature lightning bolts. There were cries of pain, the thump-thump-thump of bodies hitting the floor, and one gunshot. Aniyah heard the bullet hit the wall behind her. One of the girls screamed.

Silence.

When her vision returned, bleeding back in from the edges, Aniyah saw the others standing over her. She must have fallen in her efforts. Emma looked horrified, Celeste was bemused, and Eli seemed about ready to pass out.

"Are you okay?" Emma breathed.

There was a burnt taste in her mouth, and her muscles ached as if she'd channeled an entire lightning storm. The battery was empty.

"Yeah."

She rose shakily to her feet, surveying the damage. The assailants had crumpled to the ground in piles, but she wasn't certain if they were all unconscious or not, or if there were more on the way.

"Time's up," she said, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. She rolled her neck, wincing at the pain radiating through her veins. "Anyone got a car?"

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