Flash Fire by T.J. Klune

STUNG

Aaron Bell stood on a windswept roof, the collar of his coat up around his neck to keep the rain away. The moon was hidden behind storm clouds, the lights of the city stretching out below him. He’d come here night after night since the attack on the prom, hoping against hope.

Foolish, he knew. He was chasing a ghost.

He sighed, hands brushing against a piece of paper in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked down, anger flooding through him. It’d come the day after Nick had received his costume. Remembering all the hate mail the Grays had received, he’d decided to open it himself, just to be sure. If it was nothing, he’d hand it over to Nick. Better to be safe than sorry.

He was glad he did.

He’d waited until Nick was out with his friends before tearing the envelope open. There was only one piece of paper inside, and on it were three words above a black scribble that had been scratched into the paper. At first, Aaron thought it was smoke—perhaps a threat from someone associated with Christina and Christian Lewis. But then he looked closer at the black scribble and saw that underneath, someone had drawn a familiar sigil.

A star symbol. But why had they covered it in—

No. Not smoke.

Shadow. The star was covered in shadow.

The three words?

SEE YOU SOON!

He crumpled the paper and shoved it back in his pocket. He’d had Officer Rookie test it, his man on the inside. Chris had been nervous but determined. It’d taken longer than Aaron had hoped, but Chris had put himself at great risk, pushing this through. If anyone knew he was loyal to Cap and Aaron, he’d be canned quicker than he could blink, so Aaron took what he could get. Especially since the Rook continued to feed them information about what was happening with the NCPD.

The results, while disappointing, hadn’t surprised Aaron. No trace evidence. No fingerprints. No DNA. Nothing.

But he knew who it was from: Owen Burke.

He looked out at the city once more, chiding himself for keeping this from his kid. They’d promised each other no more secrets, but what Nick didn’t know was that being a parent meant doing anything to keep their kid safe, no matter what. If he could find Owen before he tried something, they’d all be better off for it. Simon Burke claimed to not know the whereabouts of his son, but Aaron didn’t believe a damn word that came from his mouth. He didn’t talk to Burke. Not anymore. Not after all he’d done.

Officer Rookie was the only other person who knew about the letter. He’d promised to keep it to himself with the caveat that Aaron would eventually need to tell Nick and his friends. “We can’t keep this from him,” Rook said. “Owen is planning something.”

Good kid, Officer Rookie. Aaron didn’t know where he’d be without him. He hoped Chris would never get a reason to regret helping them.

He glanced down at his watch. Half past eight. He’d texted Nick a little while ago, letting him know he’d be home soon. Nick—always and forever Nick—had responded in all caps and exclamation points. He was halfway convinced Aaron had been seeing someone, going out on dates, especially since he was coming home late a couple of nights a week. Aaron had been stunned when Nick told him this. It had never even crossed his mind.

“It’s okay if you are,” Nick said. “I—I know that you have to move on sometime. I hope whoever it is, they make you happy.”

He’d assured Nick that wasn’t the case at all. He wasn’t seeing anyone. He’d managed to hold it together until Nick went upstairs before he broke, face in his hands as he rocked back and forth. Grief was never far away, even three years later.

Which was why he was here.

They were in the After. But they’d once been in the Before, and not the Before Nick knew. Before even him.

This was where he’d come, waiting for Jenny to finish her rounds at night, moving through the city, watching over it, doing what she could to help people. This was where she’d find him, laughing as she landed on the roof, always managing to startle him. She’d tear off her helmet and kiss him deeply, smelling of clean sweat, her face flushed, her hair billowing. Oh, how alive she was, how beautiful. She’d scared him. She’d scared him so much, but he’d never loved a woman like he’d loved her. Like he still loved her.

Which was why he was here.

He’d seen the Extraordinary known as TK standing with his son against Smoke and Ice. He’d seen the way TK had moved with Nick, like they were two sides of the same coin. They moved together like they’d done it for years. And when Nick told him that he didn’t know who TK was, only that he was a man, Aaron had believed him. Jenny was gone.

She’d died instantly in the bank, a gunshot to the face. Cap hadn’t let him see her after. She’d been identified by her fingerprints. Her body was cremated. They’d spread her ashes at the lighthouse.

So why was he here?

“Stupid,” he muttered to himself. “So stupid.” He turned to head home. Nick was waiting for him. Nick was still here, still alive. He needed his father at home, not standing on a roof chasing ghosts.

He stopped. A figure stood between him and the roof access door.

Dressed in all black, helmet on his head, opaque as ever. TK.

Aaron took a step back as TK cocked his head. Even though he couldn’t see TK’s eyes, he knew he was being watched. Studied.

“Who are you?” Aaron demanded roughly.

TK didn’t speak.

“Why did you help my son?”

Nothing.

“Where did you come from? Did you know my wife? I—” His chest hitched as his voice broke. “You helped Nicky. I saw it. You’re telekinetic. Like him. Like she was. How did you—”

“Aaron,” TK said, voice heavily modulated.

And just like that, Aaron knew.

He knew.

He sank to his knees there on the roof as TK bowed his head. TK’s hands went to his helmet, and he lifted it off slowly.

Not he.

She.

Oh my god,a voice whispered in his head, a meteoric rise of memory. I’m so sorry! I was trying to reach a book on the top shelf, and I slipped off the ladder. Are you hurt?

No. I’m … okay. Hi, I’m Aaron.

Aaron, huh? Hello, Aaron. I’m Jenny. And apparently still lying on top of you.

I don’t mind. Take your time.

Wow. Did you expect that line to work?

I don’t know. You’ll have to tell me thirty years from now when we’re celebrating our anniversary.

And she’d laughed.

As an air of unreality washed over him, Aaron gasped when she lifted her head, helmet clutched in her hands, eyes wide as she looked at him, a lock of her short blond hair falling over her forehead. “Hi, honey,” Jennifer Bell said quietly. “I’m home.”