Young Writers Society

A/N: I've been calling each installment a "chapter" but in reality, very few of these divides will exist when I get to revision. This is mostly due to LMS restrictions and trying to keep the chunks approachable for the YWS format. This section is... a mess. I think that the first part before the break would be the end of the last chapter, and the second part would be the beginning of the next, but who. knows. Thanks for dealing with all these first draft issues, friends! I have no idea what I'm doing, but at least I'm still doing it.

Atlas made a choked sound in the back of his throat, his eyes flickering to the doorway, then back to Eli.

"You can't be here," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the humming of the medical machines. Eli crept over to his bedside and couldn't help the giddy grin that spread over his face.

"Obviously I can," he said, gesturing at himself, here. He leaned against the bedpost and fought to ignore the aching in his bones, in his skin. "I had to make sure you were alright."

Atlas rolled his eyes, hard. His bandaged hands pulled into fists on the bedsheet, but he remained as still as possible to avoid drawing the guards' attention.

"There are better ways to do that than breaking in, idiot. West will find out you've been here."

He glanced back to the door, where the shadows of the policemen stayed mercifully still. "They know everything. I'm screwed nine times over."

"I could break you out?" Eli suggested, then wanted to slap himself. He really wanted to break Atlas out of the hospital, mere days after he nearly died? That seemed like the opposite of helpful.

Atlas ignored him. "Get out, Eli. Leave while you can."

"I need to know what happened." Eli tried to keep the desperation from his voice. "I need to know who did that to you."

Atlas leveled a dark glare on him. "Who else, Eli? I tried to leave. I knew too much. The Program decided I needed to be taught a lesson."

Eli reeled, grabbing the side of the bed for balance. "What?"

Atlas watched him with a pitying look, as if he had known this moment was coming. His gaze was mismatched, one eye stained crimson. "Come on, Eli. You didn't really think that they'd just let you keep destroying property forever?"

"No, I--"

"They asked me to burn down an apartment complex, Eli." Atlas's voice dropped so low that Eli had to strain to hear. "I could never do that. I never signed up for that. So I told West, that I intended to quit. And then... Well. You know what happened then."

He took a shuddering breath. "I tried to tell you then. We can't leave. We know too much. We're a liabiltiy. And besides," He turned his gaze to the ceiling, blank-faced and deadened. "We're all addicted to the pills, anyway."

---

"Okay so, let me get this straight."

Seb leaned his chair back and fiddled with his necklace.

"You're part of this super secret villain organization, which sends you to do super secret villain things, and now you find out, oh my god! They've been keeping secrets from you, too." He raised an eyebrow. "Am I right?"

Eli sighd, the pill bottle clutched in his hand. "Yes."

"And this is surprising to you?"

"Yes," Eli said, resisting the urge to bash his head into a door.

"Okay. And you just found out that you have an addiction to those super secret, not-suspicious-at-all pills that Super Suspicious and Totally Evil guy West gave you. Every week. For the super secret villain organization."

Eli sniffed, then chucked the pill bottle at him. Seb dodged. The bottle clattered behind Seb's desk, the two white pills flashing in the sun.

"Yes. This isn't a joke, Seb."

Sebastian looked up. His face was dead serious. "I know. I'm just trying to assess the situation."

Eli slumped on the bed and fell onto his back, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"God. What am I going to do?"

Seb circled his bracelet around his wrist, over and over, biting his lip.

"I mean. You could try to quit the Program? Or at least, wean yourself off of the pills?"

Eli pulled a blanket up over his chest.

"All this happened to Atlas because he tried to leave. And if I try to lay low and go off the pills and stay in the Program, they'll know because, surprise, I'll suddenly be a superhuman without superpowers."

"Mm."

Eli rolled over and was pulling up the blanket when he heard the sound of Seb rocking his chair forward, landing the legs with a crack.

"Unless you don't need them."

"What?" Eli's voice was muffled under the blanket. His whole body hurt. The trip home had been brutal.

"I mean... hold on."

There was a clatter and a bang as Seb pulled out pencils and paper and his laptop.

"Just invisibility and teleportation, right? I mean, basically. Appearance-wise. That's doable."

Eli peeked out from the bed. "What are you talking about?"

Seb was hunched over his desk like a boney bird, scribbling. "It could work. I can ask my professor if he could provide me with some of the mechanics, and I'll need access to the lab, of course, but if all goes well--"

"Seb."

Sebastian didn't respond at first, dark hair falling over his eyes. "It'd have to be small enough to be portable and fairly unnoticeable. Maybe blend in with the suit? If we could get the invisibility aspect down first, you could fake it well enough, but to be fully convincing, we'd have to mimic the whole thing."

Eli tried to wrap his mind around where this conversation has gone. "You'd make me tech to fake it?"

Seb finally paused and glanced up, eyes shining. Eli only ever saw him look this vibrant, this alive, when he had a new project idea snag his attention.

"Dude, I'd be happy to. I get to help you, you break your addiction and keep your job. Everyone's happy, and the Program's never the wiser." He bent to the side, hand swiping under the desk. "We'll make you the best non-super supervillain there ever was."

He held up the bottle of pills.

"Stop taking these. I'll try to have it ready in a week, so keep up appearances best you can. Rift will be back up and running in no time."

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