Shaken Up (TAG)

[Bradley Alans]

A car, launched into the air, flipped and spun twice heading for Krackshot. He dove out of the way just in time, behind the cover of another destroyed vehicle as it smashed into the space he had just been standing. Krackshot didn't waste time being relieved he hadn't been crushed. With the grace and speed of someone who had been doing this for years, he popped over his cover and leveled his sniper rifle, firing a shot at the villain almost instantaneously. In that second, he processed what his target was doing as well.

The woman, clad in an skin-tight outfit of yellow and red, had her arm raised toward him. Given that she was calling herself "Tremor" and had previously used vibrations to launch a car toward him, that instant was all he needed to realize that he needed to move because his cover was soon going to move as well.

He ducked behind a mailbox as the car he had been behind created a lovely new piece of modern art on a nearby wall. He put his finger to his earpiece. "Alice. I'm going to need backup. Hopefully only for extraction, but better play it safe. Vibration powers. Intersection of Fourth and Bennett."

"Where are you, Krackshot?!? I didn't want it to be like this, but now you made it personal!"

Apparently, he had put away the rest of her crew in an earlier attempted heist. Given the way she was reacting, Bradley was pretty sure that part of the crew had included a lover of some sort. They hadn't had a lot of time to interrogate them yet.

He needed to switch gears though. She had a good eye, and was looking for him. Every time he fired off a round she had spotted it and vibrated it out of the air. He slung the sniper to his back and pulled a submachine gun. More close range, but a lot more rounds. With his powers, it should be near impossible to knock them all out of the air.

"I'm right here!" He spun around the mailbox and instantly began opening fire. He knew how this was ultimately going to go, and he braced himself for how much this was going to hurt, but hopefully the door behind him had something soft behind it.

Multiple tranquilizing rounds flew through the air, several having their momentum cancelled by the vibration blast Tremor had launched, but as Krackshot was hit himself by the vibration, he had a small grin as he saw half a dozen make it through and hit their target.

The blast knocked him off his feet and through the doors into the lobby of an office building. He smashed hard into a waiting room chair and had the wind knocked out of him for a moment. He struggled to get up, finally pulling himself to a standing position. Tremor was staggering in the street, shaking her head, trying to clear it from the heavy sedatives that the six rounds had pumped into her. "No. NO! I'm... I'm not... I'm not going to... go DOWN WITHOUT TAKING YOU WITH ME!"

Krackshot's eyes widened in shock as she raised both her arms, not toward him, but toward the building he was in. There were people in this building! She really didn't care what happened so long as she got him along with it. "NO! DON'T!"

But it was too late. The vibrations smashed into the building, and it began to crumble. Krackshot dove under a doorway, but a stray piece of ceiling still caught him in the head, and everything went dark.

When he woke up, everything was still pretty dark, but that was mainly because he was now trapped in a collapsed building. To make matters worse, he had a massive headache too. He checked his comms, but there was either no signal or it had been damaged in the collapse. He was going to have to wait for rescue to come find him, and the other people in the building.

"Hello?! This is Krackshot, of Aegis. If you're alright and can hear my voice, I want you to shout back and answer me!"

Caleb Voclain

[Caleb Voclain]

He recognized the sound of gunfire, of a fight, right away. He didn't have any weapons on him except for knife hidden by his jacket. He'd been sent to the office building on behalf of the Institute, not officially the Cabal, which was why he wasn't in costume. He was trying to remember what he was supposed to talk about - this was perhaps the most boring part of his job - as he sat in a waiting room when he hard the shouts first. Then the sound of gunshots. Now this wasn't anything odd for Astaria, though it still caused some panic. Caleb knew very well that being in the Cabal meant he wasn't necessarily one of the good guys. Still despite whatever reason he'd joined them, he was still his mother's son. He was up out of his chair fast, directing people toward the back exit. His mind was racing, trying to evaluate what was going on outside when he couldn't see it. He'd thought he'd heard someone shout Krackshot which meant Aegis was there. He knew how Bradley Alans' powers worked quite well but he had no idea who he was facing out there. Then the older hero was no longer out there. Crashing through the waiting room in a way that made Caleb wince because he could imagine quite well how much that had to hurt. His hand was reaching into his jacket before he knew what he was fully doing, fingers wrapping around the hilt of his knife. He could see the woman now. Her attention was fully on Bradley as far as he could tell. He prepared to throw his knife. The building shook and he cursed. She was trying to collapse the building. Shit - It looked like she was going to be successful. He darted to get to Bradley, knowing they needed to get out of the building. Unfortunately the building collapsed before either of them could. - - - - Caleb groaned as his eyes opened against the pounding in his head. At least now he could add "building collapse" onto the list of things he'd been through - not that he'd wanted to add that. He moved to push himself up, his face and clothes covered in dust and dirt - ugh - only to become very much aware of the weight on his left foot and then the pain. Experience told him his foot was most likely broken. There was rubble on his foot. It wasn't so bad that he thought he couldn't move it himself. The only issue was his foot. He couldn't lift it off himself without that pain. He started looking around, his training telling him to work with what he had. Another issue, however, was that he didn't know what he had. He couldn't see his knife - not that that would have helped. He tried to lift the rubble himself, grunted, then hissed through his teeth from the pain. It would have been easier if he could've stood up, but if he'd been able to stand up, he wouldn't have had rubble to worry about in the first place. "Over here!" he called out when he heard Bradley's voice. He'd waited a moment to see if anyone else called out. He didn't hear any other voice. He couldn't remember if everyone had gotten out in time. That meant either he was alone with the Aegis Pillar or they had company in the form of dead bodies.

... all my heroes have now become ghosts. sold their sorrows to the ones who paid the most ... quickshot Bradley Alans outfit 571 words Sorry not sorry I hurt ya son, Bradley. :3c

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[Bradley Alans]

A voice called out from behind him, in another room. He thought it sounded somewhat familiar, but didn't think much of it. His head throbbing, he ran towards the sound.

Shit!

It was him. Caleb. His son. He didn't know Caleb was going to be here. This was bad. He stayed away, distanced himself from Caleb on purpose to keep him safe. Now he was right here, trapped with him until rescue came.

Bradley hid his shocked eyes by wincing and passing it off as part of the headache he was still suffering from. He put a hand on his head, and it came away a little wet with blood, which had already started to coagulate and stop itself. It didn't seem serious, most superficial head wounds tended to bleed a lot.

He turned his focus to Caleb again, kneeling down to take stock of the situation.

"Seems like it's just you and me. Everything will be alright. My comms are down, but I called for backup before we got trapped, so help is on the way. Now then, let's get you out from under this mess."

Bradley looked around and soon found a sturdy looking pole or shaft that he could use as a lever. "What's your name, son?"

He winced internally as he said "son." Sure, it would hopefully come across as just a friendly nickname that an older man was giving to a younger one, but still, Bradley knew, and he didn't want Caleb to know.

"I'm going to lift this rubble off of you, and you're going to need to pull yourself out. Can you do that for me? After you're clear of that we'll assess your injuries to your leg. The rest of you seems fine."

Caleb Voclain

[Caleb Voclain]

His own head hurt but his eyesight was adjusting, the world wasn't a blur around him. He thought at worse he had a concussion maybe. He wasn't a doctor but figured he could deal with that. Stay awake long enough and he would be able to get medical attention either at a hospital or the Institute. Caleb looked up when Bradley arrived, eyes running over the older man to assess for any injuries. He caught the blood on his hand after he touched his head as well as the wince that had proceeded it. Being a field leader in the Cabal, he was trained to notice and assess these things, needing to make sure those he was leading were in top shape or at least able to continue the mission. That however made him think about the last time he'd encountered Bradley - technically the first time. Though Bradley didn't know that because Caleb had been in a mask as Quickshot and unlike the hero, his identity was kept a secret. Not that the Cabal allowed for much choice in the matter. He still wasn't sure how Perses managed Viper, whose identity was public record. This time, though, it was just the two of them as Bradley said - and he wasn't Quickshot. That meant for right now they weren't enemies. So while Bradley was genuinely naive to his allegiance, it allowed for Caleb to pretend to be as well. "Hopefully they send Herakles or Star Woman," he commented lightly, noting both those were known for their strength. "Or The Phantom - phasing would probably be helpful right now." He tried to make it sound more like casual commentary than the actual assessment it was. He didn't need Bradley to start wondering how he was so good at assessing and creating strategies. Caleb hesitated when asked for his name. Bradley had been a founder of Aegis and thus had to have known his mom - Hadn't she said she'd known Bradley? Back when he'd been a fan of the man's? If he remembered his mom, then that could give Caleb an excuse to use his powers. They were from her, he'd always assumed. And his powers were subtle enough that surely it wouldn't tip Bradley off that he was Quickshot, especially since he'd only ran into Quickshot once and probably didn't even know his codename still. "Caleb Voclain," he answered after a pause, "You probably know my mom." He watched Bradley closely though tried to keep his gaze casual, looking for his reaction to the mention of his mom. It wasn't for any specific reason or any suspicion. He'd simply never met one of her friends from Aegis, one of her former teammates. He nodded when instructed to pull himself out once the opportunity presented itself. Once he was out from the rubble, he winced, his foot throbbing. He shifted carefully into a better sitting position, bringing his foot closer to examine it. The pain seemed to be primarily focused on his foot and ankle. Any pain he felt in his leg, he realized was merely just a sensation running up his nerves from his foot. "Crap," he quietly cursed, fingers hovering over the laces of his boot before deciding he didn't want to take it off. He didn't want to see the discoloring he knew was there. He thought seeing it would only make his brain decide he needed to feel more of the pain. "I think it's broken." He spoke with confidence, certain in his assessment of it. He'd broken bones before - he didn't make a habit of it of thankfully - so he knew the feeling. He could already picture Perses' displeasure. He wasn't going to be able to go on missions or train until this healed. "I can walk if needed," he explained with a light shrug. Of course he didn't think he should walk on the foot. It would no doubt be excruciating and risk causing more damage. But if he needed to walk on it in order to survive, he knew he would. He could deal with the pain.

... all my heroes have now become ghosts. sold their sorrows to the ones who paid the most ... quickshot Bradley Alans outfit 680 words n/a

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[Bradley Alans]

Bradley focused on simply dealing with the situation. He hoped that would keep Caleb from realizing the deeper connection they both shared. He cleared an area of rubble for Caleb to sit in comfortably while he addressed whatever wounds he might have, primarily that broken foot.

It was impressive how well he knew his Aegis agents. He chose to be the good kind of impressed, and not the worried kind. He wished he could tell him who he was to him. Take him to headquarters and introduce him to everyone. "I'd like you to meet my son, Caleb. He's fantastic. I'm so proud of him."

If he did that though, there's no telling who would come after Caleb. Much less what Perses would do.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Voclain. It's possible I've met your mother. I've known a few Voclains."

Not a lie, technically. He'd met Madeline's family before, of course.

He noticed he didn't take off his boot.

"Nope. That's coming off. Your foot's going to swell, and the last thing that screwed up bone needs is unnatural pressure shoving it out of place."

Bradley began untying the laces with one hand, and pulled a small first-aid kid from his belt. It included one of those small medical drones that Tim had helped develop. Impulse had seemed particularly fond of them. Really though, they were best suited for sutures, and it didn't seem like either of them had cuts that were going to need stitches. It did have a length of gauze in it though, so he was going to make use of that.

"Once I get your foot out of there, I'm going to do a field set. It will hurt, but it should make things a bit more comfortable after I get it splinted up, and make you somewhat more mobile. And if we're down here for an extended length of time, should keep the bone from setting wrong. Having to have a bone rebroken and reset is not an experience I'd wish on anyone."

He found a couple of long, firm, thin pieces of... something. A plastic chair from the lobby? It didn't matter. It just needed to be functional right now.

Bradley avoided looking Caleb in the eye this entire time. He wasn't sure how he would react if he let himself lock eyes with his son.

Caleb Voclain

[Caleb Voclain]

He sat down in the area Bradley had cleared, wincing as his foot throbbed. He frowned at what he thought was a quick deflection of the mention of his mom but why such a deflection? He wasn't sure. Seriously how many Voclains had this man met? Had his mom never mentioned to her former colleagues that she had a son? The deflection just made him more stubborn, though. "Madeline Voclain," he stated, eyeing Bradley still. "You two kind of fought a war together, helped build Aegis together. Ring a bell?" His tone probably made it clear he fully expected it to ring a bell with the older man. "She would tell me stories of her time in Aegis. Mentioned the other founders all knew her identity, including you." His expression shifted to one that was the childish equivalent of seriously? when told his boot needed to come off. He huffed but made no protest aside from the occasional wince as Bradley started removing his shoe. "I wasn't using that foot much anyways," he joked with a light roll of his eye to let Bradley know he was being sarcastically, "Walking properly is overrated." He winced once the boot was fully off. His head swam at the sight of his clearly broken foot and he quickly shut his eyes tightly, mentally reminding himself that he'd had far worse injuries before. His eyes opened when Bradley started talking again. Caleb grimaced at the mere thought of his bone needing to be rebroken in order to be properly reset. "Been there, would like to avoid that again," he grumbled, loudly enough for it to be overheard, without thinking. An assassination assignment in Greece a couple years ago had, well, not gone to plan. He'd had to tell his mom the cast on his foot was from a motorcycle accident. She still hated that he still rode. He was starting to think Bradley was avoiding his eyes - only because it seemed far too often to be coincidental. Worry momentarily gripped him and paled his face. Did he know he was with the Cabal? He lightly bit down on his lower lip. No, he hadn't done anything to compromise his secret identity and if he had, he was certain avoiding eye contact wasn't what Bradley would've been doing. Slapping handcuffs onto his wrists sounded more accurate. "Mom didn't mention you were so shy," he settled for saying, eyes on the older man again. "Growing up, most of her stories were about you."

... all my heroes have now become ghosts. sold their sorrows to the ones who paid the most ... quickshot Bradley Alans outfit 417 words n/a

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[Bradley Alans]

Well. If there was one thing he'd passed on to his son, it was his stubbornness.

"Yeah, I knew her. She was a great woman. How is she?"

Maybe that was the play. Deflect to Madeline and keep the conversation off of him and their relationship. What the hell was Perses on about? This had to be some ploy. Some kind of test. He wouldn't have been surprised if Perses had sent Tremors intentionally to make this situation happen.

"This is definitely going to hurt. I'm going to set it as best I can right now, until we can get you to a hospital. On the count of three. One--"

He didn't even wait for two to shove the bone into as close as he could get it to the right position, and then began firmly tying the splint to the foot with gauze from his first aid kit.

"There. That should do you until the rescue crew gets in here." Bradley looked up and into Caleb's face. It wasn't intentional, but it also wasn't accidental. He hoped, he prayed, for both of their sakes, for Madeline's sake, that his eyes didn't betray what he was feeling at that moment. He'd grown so much since he'd last saw him. And even then, that was from a distance. Through a scope. The last time he'd seen his son this close, face to face...

It was that night when he'd ruined everything for them.

He desperately wanted to just wrap his arms around him. Just hold him close, tell him it was alright, that he was here now, that he was sorry for staying away for so long.

But he couldn't. Not if they all wanted to be alive.

He pulled the gauze tighter and looked away. "I'm flattered that she liked to tell stories about me. I don't know whether you'd learned much from them, though. More what not to do. Exposing your identity publicly at a young age like I did... It makes you appreciate privacy. Makes you shy. Sorry."

There was a lot more to that sorry than just apologizing for his supposed timidity in this exact situation. It was a "Sorry I couldn't be there." A "Sorry I ruined everything before you were even born." A "Sorry that I can't be there for you now."

That one word carried a lot of weight with it.

He finished tying off the splint. "There. Don't put any weight on it if you can help it. I'll see if I can't make you a crutch so you can move around a bit more on your own."

Really, it was an excuse to try and get some distance from Caleb's questions, before Bradley said something he would regret. The only problem was, there wasn't a lot of space they had to work with. The area they were trapped in was pretty isolated. "I'll find something for you."

Caleb Voclain

[Caleb Voclain]

Finally he admitted he'd known his mom - honestly what had been so hard about that? Perhaps they hadn't gotten along as well as her stories had led Caleb to believe. "She's fine, last I checked," he explained with a light shrug, "Wasn't the happiest about me going into security work - with all the, well..." He gestured to the rubble around them as he felt there wasn't a better example of the dangers the city possessed at the moment. "But I can handle myself fine." Fine was possibly an understatement. He had his powers, what he'd learned from the military, and then even more he'd learned from the Cabal, not to mention access to Cabal funds and resources. But he couldn't exactly say that to his mom or Bradley - for different reasons. His mom was, well, his mom. Bradley was a Pillar of Aegis. Saying "I'm one of the Cabal's top assassins, I can handle myself" wouldn't fly with either of them, he knew that. He grit his teeth, a sharp hiss escaping as the bone was shoved back into place as best as possible. Right. Hospital. He was going to have to figure out a way to avoid that without putting suspicion on himself. Perses would prefer he use the Cabal's infirmaries instead, he didn't doubt that. Hospitals left paper trails. His best bet was likely to just slip out after Bradley made sure he got there. It was doable. Annoying with his current injury, but doable. There was something about the way Bradley looked at him, Caleb moving his own eyes so he could finally catch Bradley's, even if just for a second. He wasn't sure if it was his powers or the fact that they were face to face, no masks, no missions, no secret identities (well on Caleb's part) between them right now. There was something almost... vulnerable in Bradley's eyes, he thought. But then the hero looked away. Of course he looked away. Caleb wasn't sure if shy was a more accurate descriptor than he'd thought or if things between the older man and his mom weren't as great as either led them to be believed. Admittedly Caleb felt offense at Bradley seeming to insinuate that there wasn't anything to learn from the stories about him. Logically he knew he shouldn't get offended - after all Bradley was more so insulting himself than Caleb - but this man had been his hero growing up. As much as he'd like to deny it because their allegiance made them enemies now, this man was still someone he admired and looked up to a lot. "I wouldn't sell yourself so short," he said, an air of frustration to him, ignoring the apology for being shy because he didn't think that was something the older man needed to apologize for. "Her stories helped a lot. Especially yours. Stories about real life superheroes can help a kid forget about shit like deadbeat dads." He looked away at the thought of his dad. It wasn't really a nice topic and he didn't plan on elaborating unless Bradley wanted to try being the one to ask questions now. There was of course a chance Bradley knew who his dad was or had a guess, depending on how close he'd been to his mom. He fell silent as Bradley started looking for a crutch, Caleb's own eyes wandering around the rubble, tapping into his microscopic vision to try to pinpoint any weakness he could find, any way they could start digging themselves out without risking a total collapse. He'd have to figure out a way to explain anything he found and how he found it but that was a problem for later not now.

... all my heroes have now become ghosts. sold their sorrows to the ones who paid the most ... quickshot Bradley Alans outfit 618 words n/a

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[Bradley Alans]

"--forget about shit like deadbeat dads."

Bradley intentionally tripped over a small piece of rubble to hide the fact that he literally winced at that statement. He'd done everything he could, realistically, to try and not be a deadbeat dad. Of course, Caleb didn't know that. Couldn't know that. All Caleb knew was his dad was never around and just sent along gifts. Bradley had hoped those gifts conveyed his feelings for his son accurately, but it was clear that it wasn't enough.

"Makes sense." he grunted out, still very much keeping his vision on scanning the rubble for a makeshift crutch as opposed to having to look at Caleb. "Security's still safer than going into law enforcement fully. This kind of thing will happen occasionally, but it's not your day-to-day life."

He didn't engage on the deadbeat dad part to keep his voice from cracking. His eyes fell on the shattered remnants of a wooden chair, and began pulling parts off of it and jury-rigging it into a functioning crutch. "This should work for you. You're still feeling okay otherwise? No breathing problems or pains in other places?"

Bradley's mind kept flashing back to that night, years ago, where he'd almost lost his son to a rare disease because of his recklessness. The night he got stuck in Perses' treacherous web.

"Just want to make sure you're feeling okay, besides the foot," he said, locking eyes with Caleb again as he handed him the crutch and offered him a hand to help him up. Bradley focused on trying desperately to keep the look in his eyes one of concern and care for the boy, and nothing further. If Caleb found out, who knew what Perses would do to him? Bradley couldn't risk his son like that.

Despite the situation they were in, that was the only thing on his mind.

Caleb Voclain

[Caleb Voclain]

His eyes snapped to Bradley when he heard him trip, instinctively moving to get up to offer help before his own injury had him wincing and staying put. He wondered if he should remind him to be careful but, well, he was a highly trained member of Aegis. He likely knew how to be careful slightly better than Caleb did. Bradley had more experience, yes, but the Cabal's training was extensive. The conversation was back on his own job. It was awkward being the one contributing the most to the conversation. And he didn't want Bradley to know everything about him. That could potentially pose a security risk to the Cabal. And he knew how the Cabal handled its members it saw as security risks. He'd personally handled multiple cases like that. He didn't want to risk being on the other end of that. He didn't respond, his microscopic vision catching something. His vision returned to normal. It was his knife. He looked at the back of Bradley's head. The older man was still looking for something he could make into a crutch. Caleb needed to move quickly. He reached, trying to move as quietly as possible, stretching his arm, grimacing with frustration as his fingers just barely brushed the end of the knife. He moved more, ignoring the pain in his foot, managing to grab the knife. He sheathed it back at his side, the harness placing the knife against his ribs. He moved so he'd be in the exact same spot Bradley had left him in quickly, grimacing quietly as his foot protested. He shifted his jacket so that it would hide the harness and thus the knife as best as it could. He startled, the smallest of flinches, anxiety still dying down, when Bradley spoke to him again suddenly. He tried to cover it up by focusing on the makeshift crutch. It was crude but he knew he would be able to make it work decently enough. It took him a moment to register what Bradley had asked him, blinking before clarity found its way into his eyes. "Oh uh - I'm fine, thank  you," he lied more awkwardly than he was trained to, his mind focusing on hoping his knife wouldn't be noticed. His head hurt, likely a concussion. He might have been bleeding like Bradley was but he hadn't checked. Priority for him was getting out of this situation. There was another rare moment where Bradley's eyes locked onto his. Anxiety wasn't something Caleb felt often but it twisted in his stomach now. For the most part, Bradley seemed to have been avoiding eye contact. Now it made him nervous. Had he noticed the knife? Did he secretly know Caleb was part of the Cabal and now he was going to reveal it-- Wait, no that last one wasn't likely. Aegis didn't know about the Cabal, he was certain of that. "I'll be fine," he tried to assure the older man, taking the crutch as it was handed to him. He struggled to push himself to his feet, grimacing slightly, before he managed to steady himself with the help of the crutch. "I'm ready to get out of here, though," he added, trying to put on a smirk, trying to not let his anxiety get to him. He didn't need it showing. He didn't need Bradley noticing. "This isn't exactly a tropical vacation after all."

... all my heroes have now become ghosts. sold their sorrows to the ones who paid the most ... quickshot Bradley Alans outfit 596 words N/A

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