Into the night pt. 2

"So, Sean, how've you been since our last session?"

"I've been doing alright, Reggie."

"Baggy eyes, eh? What were you doing last night?"

"I was, uh, working on a project for school."

"Quinn goes to the same school as you, remember? School don't start till tomorrow. What project are you talkin' about?"

"Right, right, yeah. I must've dreamt it."

"So, what were you doing last night? Have a cute date over?"

Sean laughs. "Markus is the most catholic person either of us know. The day I get anyone to 'stay over' is the day I move out."

"Yeah, I know. Just messin' with ya. What do you want to talk about during this session?"

"I don't know."

"Well, then let's just talk about your week."

An hour passes. Sean's therapy session is over. He's walking down the street. Kids doing skateboard tricks, shop owners displaying their goods. Mr. Cheng's bakery smells like a fresh loaf. Mrs. Letterman and her wife's café smells of their delicious custom blend. The Morenos' pizza place smells like authentic New York. Hell's Kitchen is alive as ever. Despite everything, all of the villains and superhuman insanity that happen every day, Sean loves his city.

He stops at Moreno's for a bite.

"Hey, Tobey."

"Hey, Sean. What'd you like?"

"You know what I'mma ask for."

"Yeah, yeah. Sausage and mushroom."

Sean takes a seat at one of the tables set up outside the building. A hero swings in and snatches Sean from his seat.

He screams. "What the hell?!"

"Hey, I'm Spinneret. You should know me, right? I can never tell who's popular these days."

"Wha- what'd I do? I'm just tryna have a slice!"

"Don't worry, you didn't do anything wrong–"

Sean starts perspiring at his palms. "Then why are you–"

"--Sean," Spinneret finishes as she lands on top of a building. "Here'll work."

"You're Archangel's student?"

"Yep, and here's the gift he wanted to give you," she says as she hands him two crimson leather-and-steel escrima sticks. "And he left a note, too," as she slips him a folded piece of paper.

"Can you drop me off at my apartment?" asks Sean. "It's just a few blocks from here."

Spinneret shrugs. "Sure. Where at?"

She drops him off on top of his apartment. They both land and roll crudely onto the roof and groan in pain.

"Sorry, I'm still not that great at landing with someone in my arms," she apologizes.

Sean enters his room through the fire escape once again. He leaves the note underneath his bed. "See you around, foxy!" Spinneret calls to him as she swings away. His hands run across the weathered leather. The metal makes a rumbling vibration so quiet only he can perceive it. They feel heavy. Powerful. Violent. He heads to his desk and opens a drawing notebook. They're filled with drawings of his fellow heroes. He flips to a page with a bookmark. A title is on top of said page reading "Suit Sketches." He pulls out a drawer and a sewing kit and begins stitching a mask as depicted in his drawing. Sean continues for what seems like hours but probably only took an hour-thirty. Unfortunately for Sean, that'll be the only progress he's going to make for the night, as he smells something burning.

Just a block away, Sean hears an explosion, the sound of screams, the smell of burning flesh. Arson attack. His mask is on in the matter of seconds, and the same is true for him leaving his room.

"The Zdarsky kids are in there!" someone cries out. Sean comes into the scene and flies through a flaming window. Closing his eyes, he searches only with his other senses. Listen for where their screams are emanating from. Where the smell of sweat is the strongest. Maybe even for blood if it happens to appear.

From the perspective of outside witnesses, there's no sound but the crackling of fire. Until the unmistakable sound of shattering glass pierces through the flicking flames. Sean jumps down to the ground from the third floor. His knees pop upon landing. He knows they've been sprained, but the adrenaline flowing in his veins stops the pain from registering. The two kids he was carrying in his arms stumble and begin running towards their parents. The bystanders surround Sean as his knees buckle beneath him. He fumbles as he tries to stand. They ask him questions he has no answers for, not for right now, at least. As he begins to walk away from the fire, he stops. Lifting his mask up just enough to reveal his mouth, he coughs up blood into his hand. He begins walking away again and into an alley. People recording with their phones murmur among themselves and to their cameras.

"This black, fox guy just saved these two kids' lives!"

"Heard Archangel is out of town, glad to know we're not here undefended!"

Unbeknownst to Sean, those videos would be posted to their socials. New heroes are always a hot topic, especially those with actual powers. If it had been a normal good samaritan, there'd be no cause for concern. Unfortunately for Sean, the top dog of the criminal underworld doesn't take new thorns in his side lightly. The media has given Sean the moniker "Blackfox," as Sean coughs blood into his bathroom sink.