37. Chapter 37

AN: New chapter. Holidays happened, got busy with that stuff, and recovering from the stuff. I've also been trying to work on multiple projects at once, and that didn't turn out well. I'll probably stick to my usual thing where I just focus on one thing at a time from now on.

Oh. For the record, since there seems to be a little confusion on the matter, this is not the Amazon arc. This is sort of a prelude to that arc, its putting stuff in place and laying a foundation. The actual arc comes a little later. Internally, I refer to this one as the "Carol Arc".

Leo 23: Yeah, no two characters are exactly alike. An "archetype" is a literary term that broadly describes a type of character. Similarly in this setting, Archetypes are grouped the way they are because they have similar functions, but no two are exactly the same. There are different superheroes with different powers, there are different martial artists who practice different fighting styles, and so forth. Animals don't have archetypes. Or, at the very least, there haven't been any recorded instances of them having archetypes.

Lincoln would be hesitant to declare that he had "experience" with Superhero archetypes...but it wasn't exactly untrue. Lori ranked locally among that archetype's most foremost members (and he'd suspected she didn't fare much worse on a broader scale), and while she didn't make a habit of letting him tag along, largely for his own protection, they'd hung out together enough that even before taking his recent outing as her sidekick into account, he'd felt like he'd gotten a pretty solid sampling of what a day in that particular life was like. Save some people, vaporize some Soulless, punch Whitney in the face. Granted, he'd imagined that last bit was something that happened a lot less frequently to people who weren't Lori. There was also the additional modifier in play that he and Carol were technically on a "date", as well as the related complication that Carol was trying to remain incognito on their day out, but nevertheless, his previous experiences with superhuman blondes had conditioned him to expect a certain bare minimum amount of excitement he would have to deal with. So it came as a fairly large surprise when, nearly an hour after the older girl and he had departed the Loud house, they were still sitting in her car, only a scant few miles down the road.

The car was, in and of itself, another minor bit of blindsiding. While Lori could certainly afford a car, as far as Lincoln was aware, she'd never bothered to learn to drive. Which made total sense to him. After all, if you could fly, there didn't seem to be much point in traveling any other way. And after that flight she'd shared with him, with the wind rushing through his hair and the city splayed out beneath him in all its glory, Lincoln was absolutely certain he'd make the same decision.

It was definitely a nice car. The exterior wasn't especially exciting, but the interior was plush, and comfortable, easily on par with the accommodations he'd enjoyed in Leni's limousine, albeit, without the delightful snack bar to partake from. But as nice a vehicle as it was, it most certainly wasn't a hero's car. At least, not a car that was befitting of a hero. Even setting aside the fact that Carol herself could fly, just like Lori, it was so unassuming that Lincoln would have been less surprised to see his mom behind the wheel, rather than someone like Carol.

"Something on your mind?" The older girl asked, glancing Lincoln's way while still keeping one eye on the road. She needn't have bothered; the vehicle in front of them remained solidly in place, and solidly solid, more's the pity.

"Just wondering about..." Lincoln trailed off, trying to find a more delicate way to approach the subject.

"The car?" Carol supplied, her lips quirking upward in a wry smile.

"The car," Lincoln agreed, immediately abandoning the charade. "Just took me by surprise, a bit. Never pictured you owning a car."

"Believe it or not, when I go out I tend to attract attention," Carol gently patted the armrest situated between them. "Thanks to this old girl, I can get from Point A to Point B without worrying about people making a scene."

"What happens when you get out of the car?"

"People tend to make a scene," Carol replied, sheepishly. "I make a quick run to the store at night to grab some milk or something, and suddenly I'm signing babies and kissing autographs."

"That...doesn't sound right," Lincoln interjected.

"It's not," Carol's lips tightened ever so slightly. "Fans can be weird sometimes. And strangely enough, people even manage to recognize me when I leave my battle armor at home. It's really frustrating."

Lincoln shot a sidelong glance towards Carol. Specifically at the way how, even while at rest, her sleeves bulged noticeably around her well-toned arms.

"I guess it would be," Lincoln replied, neutrally, choosing not to press the issue. "I never hear about that kind of thing from Lori though. She just kind of flies off wherever she needs to, whenever she needs to. And I'm pretty sure she spends more time in her costume than out of it."

"Lori has a killer death glare, no pun intended. One look from her will stop most people in their tracks, it does wonders for getting people to mind their own business."

"Probably helps that she can shoot lasers from her eyes," Lincoln pointed out. "Not that she would."

"Not in a million years," Carol agreed. "But Lori can get away with that kind of stuff. She's a local, homegrown hero. I may have grown up here, but I'm also an Amazon, and what I do reflects on my people. And that means I need to play things a little more...cautiously than she does."

"That must be rough."

"It is what it is," Carol shrugged noncommittally, her face softening once more as she fully turned her attention to Lincoln. "Anyway, my point is that a car comes in handy, even for us heroes. Can you imagine how this would go down if I didn't have a car? I'd have to carry you around."

There was a beat of silence.

"Would that...be...weird?" Lincoln asked, hesitantly.

"You... wouldn't... mind?"Carol responded in kind, her puzzlement plain as day.

"I catch rides like that with Lori all the time," Lincoln explained, wondering why his cheeks were beginning to feel hot. "Well, time. All of...all of the one, time. I guess technically two. But I didn't have a problem with it."

"A-and you just, flew around like that?" Carol swallowed audibly, eyes darting around as she fidgeted slightly in her seat. "You don't mind... being c-carried around? In someone's arms?"

"Well...yeah," Lincoln answered, honestly. "There was turbulence and stuff, but I never feel safer than when I'm with Lori."

Once again, silence fell upon the car.

"Is that...wei—"

"It's not weird. Not at all."

"...Alright then."

BREAK

"Aw come on!" Carol shouted, flinging her arms up in frustration. Lincoln silently echoed her sentiment.

Eventually the pair had decided that traffic, being as dense as it was, rendered driving pointless. The expediency provided by a vehicle didn't do mean a whole lot when you spent most of that time sitting at a standstill, so Lincoln had suggested finding a place to park, and continuing on foot. At the time, it had seemed like a reasonable idea. Unfortunately, there was one complication Lincoln hadn't counted on. Foot traffic.

Lincoln was no stranger to crowds. When he was younger, and excitement was literally something that happened to other people, he was a regular attendee at a whole host of local conventions. Events with crowds whose density and temperament, were uncannily similar to those of the Husk horde he'd dealt with at the mall not too long ago. Somehow, this was more unsettling. The sidewalk was impassible, pedestrians jammed together as closely as they could manage without their atomic matter intermingling. It was a veritable wall of flesh. Had he been alone, there might have been some hope of Lincoln being able to feel out a path that his slender, smaller than average body could traverse, but with Carol's strapping, amazonian frame in tow, that was patently impossible.

"Seriously!" The older girl continued to grouse. "What's this even for? What could possibly convince this many people to put up with a crowd this size?"

"Lunaaaaa, I'm booooored!" Whined Sam Sharp, laying her head down on the folding table in front of her with an audible thump. "And my hand feels like its gonna fall off!"

"You're the one who wanted to do an autograph signing," Luna reminded her. A nervous young man stepped forward and thrust out a glossy photo of her smiling visage. Flashing him a reassuring smile of her own, Luna signed the photo with a little flourish, and then nodded, signaling that she was done. The youth gave her a greatful smile, and silently scurried away. Only then did Luna turn her attention back to her girlfriend.

"I wanted to do a casual livestream," she continued, gently prodding Sam with her pen. "At least that way we would have been able to hang out and relax somewhere. Maybe let the intern cut her teeth managing the chat, or something. But noooo, you wanted to do this!"

"Honestly, I didn't think we'd actually get to this point," Sam confessed, still not lifting her head from the table. Another fan stepped forward, this time presenting her tribute to Sam. Without looking, Sam's hand shot out and hastily scribbled a signature on the photo with surprising accuracy, before returning to its resting position. The new arrival looked at her prize, blinking with surprise. Then shrugged, presumably satisfied, and walked off.

"I figured we'd try to do the autograph signing, and then get sidetracked by something more exciting." The pile of blonde, cyan-streaked hair groaned.

"Pretty sure that kind of thing only happens when Lincoln's around."

"Which is why you should have brought him!" Sam waggled her finger in what was vaguely Luna's direction. "The friggin Lord of Terror brought an army! And you know how many things I got to snickety slice? Nothing! Zero things!"

"I know," Luna rolled her eyes. "I was with you. But we had a video to shoot, and it all worked out in the end."

"Not for me!"

"Yeah, well, them's the breaks. Now get up!" Luna smacked Sam with her pen, a sharp whap resounding as she did so. "We've got more autographs to sign."

"How many more?" Sam wailed, remaining unmoving, save for gingerly rubbing the spot Luna had attacked. Before she could respond, the doors to the room swung open, revealing a glimpse of the crowd outside.

"Uh..." Luna looked down at her fingers and did some quick calculations. "Infinity. I think."

"Something wrong?" Lincoln asked, looking up at Carol. For the last few minutes, the amazon had just been glancing around, trying to peer over the multitudes blocking their progress, and muttering under her breath. It was mildly disconcerting.

"I'm trying to figure out how we can get around this," she confessed at last, letting out a frustrated sigh. "But I'm having trouble getting my bearings."

"Well, you spend most of your time up there, right?" Lincoln asked, gesturing up towards the sky. "City must look pretty different from down here."

"That's about the size of it," Carol agreed. "It's way easier to get around when you can just go in straight lines. Which isn't exactly out of the question, but..."

"But you'd rather avoid drawing attention," Lincoln concluded. More attention, he mentally corrected himself. Carol really did cut an imposing figure here on the streets, the fact that she had any sort of vantage over the crowd was remarkable in and of itself. "Maybe I can help? I spend a lot of time on foot. Just need to know where we're going."

"I was planning on it being a surprise...but I thought we'd go to Gus'," Carol confessed, her tanned skin coloring further, ever so slightly. "Lori said its your favorite. Aaaand its been a while since I've had a chance to check in on the Dance Battle machine. Gotta protect my high score."

"Oh! I—" Lincoln's brain abruptly short-circuited as he tried to process the second part of that sentence. He found himself looking the amazon over, trying to picture her dancing in an arcade of all things. He managed to stop himself before he went too far, but not before a tiny, microdroplet of blood drooped down from his nose.

One thing at a time, he admonished himself, discretely wiping his nose clean, before turning back towards Carol.

"That sounds awesome!" He said, trying to sound upbeat. "Great choice, Carol!" To his surprise, she actually did seem to stand a little straighter after that.

"Alright," he continued, looking around. "Pretty sure I can get us there. Can you see the street signs by any chance?"

"Easy," Carol replied, glancing down the street. "Looks like we're on the corner of Plot Road, and Contrivance Boulevard."

"Then that means..." Lincoln frowned in concentration, trying to visualize the city in his head. "Gus' Games and Grub should be...that way!"

He punctuated his deduction with a dramatic flourish, and a jab of his finger in the indicated direction. It felt...proper, there was a brief moment of clarity where all felt right with the universe. He was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if he'd been wearing a coat it would have been flapping dramatically behind him, enhancing the effect even further.

Then the moment passed, the world around him snapped back into focus, and Lincoln realized he was pointing directly at a brick wall. An extremely solid-looking brick wall, shining with a sheen that only came about through loving care and adequate maintenance. On a hunch, Lincoln tilted his head upward, and upward, and upward still. The wall was attached to a rather tall building, easily three, maybe four stories, but eventually he found what he was looking for.

Bricks and Stuff, the attached sign proclaimed, Our Foundation Is Solid.

And with that, Lincoln allowed his arm to droop. Feeling...stymied, somehow. As he was processing this, Carol stepped around to his side, stroking her chin thoughtfully.

"You're saying it's that way?" She asked, pointing in the same direction he had. "You sure about that?"

"Very," Lincoln nodded, gesturing vaguely at the wall. "But that's going to be a bit of a problem. It's not like we could just, walk through that. Well, maybe you could, but..."

"That wouldn't be particularly heroic," Carol giggled, gently clapping him on the shoulder. She was good, the motion only sent a slight tremor through his body. When Lori tried to show affection like that back when she'd been younger, and greener, she'd usually ended up sending him crashing to the floor. It was a teachable experience, albeit one that may have taken a little too long to learn from.

"I was actually thinking about using that," Carol pointed a little further back towards the way they'd come. Lincoln followed her arm with his eyes, and saw she was indicating a small gap between this particular business, and the adjacent one. It might have been an alleyway, but...

"Pretty sure that doesn't go through," Said Lincoln. "I think at best we'd just find ourselves at a side door, or something. Not a big improvement."

"I think it'll be enough," Carol replied, gently nudging Lincoln forward. He complied, allowing himself to be prodded, and Carol quickly caught up to him, matching her long legs to his much smaller stride. "I think I've got an idea that'll work as a happy medium. But I'd like to duck out of this crowd first, if possible."

The world...hurtled. There wasn't any other word for it. He remembered Carol leading him into the alley, and as he'd predicted, finding their progress stymied by a large, iron wrought fence, one nearly twice the height of the older girl. Not exactly the sort of thing one could easily circumvent. At least, that's what he'd been thinking, at the time, barely aware of Carol leaning down beside him.

"Hold on tight," She whispered into his ear, as she snaked one arm around his waist and pulled him close. Lincoln found himself caught in a brief moment of indecision. His instructions were simply too vague. Hold on? To what? And for what purpose? But mostly, to what!? His answers were quickly answered as his surroundings, including the ground beneath his feet, simply vanished.

It was an eternity, which realistically couldn't have actually lasted all that long, but relativistically had to have literally been that long on some level. Somewhere, he was certain, there was still a Lincoln flying through the ether, screaming his head off. Here and now, however, he was back on his feet, which were firmly planted on the ground, almost in the exact same position he'd been exactly one eternity previously. The only difference that he could see, as he tilted his still vibrating head to the side, was that the ground he was now standing on was made up entirely of elaborate brickwork. And the ground he'd originally been standing on was waaaaaaaay down below. He quickly turned away, fearful that if he looked back, he might see himself still standing down there, blissfully unaware of what was to come.

"You okay, Linc?" Carol asked as she crouched down, bringing herself roughly to eye level. There was naked concern in her eyes. Lincoln tried to reply in the affirmative, as he always did when any girl, for whatever reason asked him that question, but he found it difficult to produce speech. He suspected his aching lungs may have had a hand in that.

"...Fine," He managed to wheeze, after a bit of internally struggling with his respiratory system. "What...?"

Carol tittered nervously as she raised one arm and began to absentmindedly scratch the back of her neck. "Well, I didn't want to fly, and I didn't want to damage private property without a really good reason. So I figured I might be able to just...jump. A little. Like, hop the fence. I do that kind of thing all the time on the job, you know, when it isn't practical to be flying around for whatever reason. But I've never had a passenger along when I've done that, so I tried to compensate for the extra weight, but without crashing us into the fence or anything and, well..."

Again, Lincoln peered over the side of the building as Carol trailed off. Apparently, the building was even higher than he'd thought. Those people on the ground, the crowd of which they'd been a part of only scant moments earlier, were teeny tiny from his current vantage.

"You...jump...good!" He grunted, finally clearing his throat with a loud, hacking cough. "I mean, wow. That's a bit more than a jump."

Carol winced. "Sorry, Linc. Hope I didn't hurt you."

"Peeshaw", Lincoln scoffed as he ran his hand down the side of his body. It started off fine, but right around the point where he hit his midsection, the part that had been clasped against Carol well chisled torso, he found a sharp, stabbing pain lancing through his body. Fortunately, he managed to get his bearings before his body could betray him, and he managed to give Carol a confident, albeit somewhat shakey, thumbs up.

"Totally fine," He said, through slightly gritted teeth. "Maybe just give me a minute...or three, before the next one."

"Only if you're sure," Carol's brow creased, worry lines flitting across her normally smooth skin. "This side of the building seems pretty clear. I bet I could just float us on down, and we could walk the rest of the way."

"We could," Lincoln conceded, as he gestured off in the distance. "But Gus' is way over there. It's going to be a bit of a walk. And we've already lost time trying to get even this far."

"True," Carol agreed, nodding hesitantly. "So what are you suggesting,"

"I'm wondering if you could make it from here, to that rooftop over there," Lincoln replied, pointing to another roof a few streets over. "And once we get there, we see what comes next."

He looked back at Carol, and she smiled. It was brilliant. Dazzling. Warm.

"I think I can," She said, rising to her full height. "But I think we need a better way of getting you there. Maybe something like...this?" There was a blur of movement, and the next thing Lincoln knew, he was off the ground once more, staring up at Carol. The entirety of his body was suspended by her strong arms, in a manner very similar to, but entirely distinct from the method commonly referred to as a "bridal carry".

"Um...y-yeah," He stammered, trying to fight off the rush of heat that suddenly flushed his face. "Yeah, I think this might work."