Definitely NOT Sick

He trudged up the steps to his apartment after another pointless day at work.  As he reached in his pocket for his keys, he felt an all-too-familiar tickle in his throat that had been bugging him all day.  He tried to clear his throat, but it didn't do much.  He tried again.  Worthless.  As he got to the door, he went for one final attempt.

It worked.  Just not like he wanted.

After he spent a solid two minutes fighting his way out of a coughing fit, he looked around, hoping no one had seen it.  He caught a glimpse of a woman across the parking lot ducking into her place, and hoped that she somehow hadn't noticed.  Working very hard to not think about why he cared whether or not she had seen his little episode, he unlocked the door and ran inside, quickly shutting it behind him.  He briefly leaned against the door, closing his eyes tightly, and letting out a sigh.

He walked in, hanging his coat on the coatrack and tossing his bag haphazardly on the couch before plopping himself down beside it and slumping over.  He shoved his face into a pillow and let out a stifled scream.

Bad choice.

After he got over the new coughing fit his scream had brought on, he caught his breath and rolled over so that he was laying on his back.

He wasn't sick.  He refused to be sick.

He quickly noted an odd stain on the ceiling he hadn't noticed before, then rolled over, pulling a blanket on top of himself.  He reached for the remote control, but quickly decided it was too far away and gave up.

And he closed his eyes.

He rematerialized atop the building just beneath Captain Superior and smiled up at him weakly, offering a mock salute.  The hero looked down on him with a puzzled expression that hinted at just a spark of understanding and began to descend.

The Captain extended a hand to his fellow nexter which was accepted after a moment's hesitation.

Superior's cape billowed as he spoke in a deep voice that felt louder than it sounded.  "What are you doing here, Haze?"  It wasn't an insult or a threat.  He genuinely wanted to know.  They hadn't seen each other in months . . . since Lexington.

"Waiting," Haze responded flatly.  He was never one to offer more information than necessary.

Captain Superior had been dealing with him long enough to know that it was pointless to press for more answers right away, so he took a moment to inspect the nexter, focusing particularly on the dark shirt hidden under Haze's trench coat.  A single thin yellow stripe from his shoulder to his hip said all that he needed to know anyway.  "You're back with the League."

Haze walked over to the edge of the building and crouched, looking down at the street below.  "Yep."

An alarm suddenly sounded from a building down the street and both nexters snapped to attention.  Captain Superior drew a large golden sword from somewhere in the billows of his cape while Haze willed a thin, curved sabre into existence.  Superior swooped down, grabbed a couple of men in masks and carried them to a police car waiting around the corner.  Haze smirked again.  The Captain always made it look so easy.

But, then again, heroes had the easy job.

Captain Superior landed next to Haze and smiled at him.  "I guess you waited for nothing."

"Not exactly."

The two flinched briefly at the sound of a gunshot and wheeled around to see a third masked man collapsing just outside the alarm-wielding building.  Captain Superior briefly looked shocked, then spotted her on a building down the street.  Sharpshot offered a brief salute before leaping off the building and gracefully turning in midair.

Superior turned to Haze who was already beginning to fade into vapor.  "We can't all be heroes.  Someone has to do those jobs beneath you," Haze said with just a hint of remorse.  He let the wind blow his vapor toward Sharpshot, increasing his density just enough to catch her, and the two flew off.

He managed to barely hear the good Captain mutter, "What did she do to you?" before a sudden coughing fit caused him to almost drop his partner.

So he opened his eyes.

He caught his breath and looked around the room.  It was a lot darker.  He hadn't meant to sleep that long, so he did the only logical thing to do.  He laid his head back down and snuggled into the covers again.

He definitely wasn't sick.