🚀 go-pugleaf

     Whenever the road came to a close, he ended up back home.  For
David Miller, home wasn't the place he'd grown up at, now long
abandoned.  Home was a large mansion off in the country, with friends
who understood that he liked leaving them all behind to find new
places.  The best part was that they were always there for when he
became tired of the wandering, ready to welcome him back.
     He'd been gone a little over two months this time.  It wasn't his
longest trek by any means, but David needed the space away from
everyone, trying to deal with the turns life had shot the Sentries
lately.  He couldn't let himself cry or angst -- he had to control
himself and his powers.  David was a telepath, which he had come to
decide meant he had a greater responsibility to the people around him.
And control was a major part of that responsibility.
     So David accepted what life gave to him and his friends.  He had
no choice.  David just waited for things to be more or less stable,
then exited stage right to wash away any pain with the sights of town
after town and person after person.  As long as he could do that, he
could keep control.
     David quietly thanked the person who gave him the ride home, then
lifted his one suitcase out of the car.  Hitchhiking was a lot safer
when you could feel if a driver was radiating any sort of menace
towards you.  Besides, if you say you want to be dropped off at a
superguy base, it tends to keep would-be murders or thieves from
pulling anything.
     The path from the road to the garage was as bumpy and uneven as
ever.  Not that many things changed in a month, but David always had
that little hope that someone would decide to fill in the driveway
when he wasn't around to be conscripted into shoveling duty.  Oh well.
     From the driveway, David slipped around back and into the
unlocked back door.  "Guys, I'm home!"
     "So you are.  How was your trip, David?"  SARA's voice was tinged
with a bit of amusement.
     "Pretty good.  Nothing really new, but I enjoyed myself.  I'm
feeling a lot calmer, too."  David glanced around the empty kitchen.
"Nobody else home?"
     "Ben is in the living room trying to get up from under the
bookshelf that has fallen on him.  When you yelled, he jumped and
knocked it down."
     "Ooops."
     "He says he will be fine and free in a few minutes.  Also, Jamie
is in the library, Robyn and Tina are downstairs, and everyone else
went to the river."  SARA chuckled.  "For some reason I wasn't
invited."
     David rolled his eyes and went to the fridge, dropping his bags
on the floor for a moment.  "Gee, how shocking.  Anything new?"
     "You were told about Chris over the phone, and that is more or
less all.  It has been a slow time.  No new villains, no injuries..
rather pleasant, really."
     "It sounds like it.  It makes sense, too.  Everything waits for
me to leave before going right."  David grinned ruefully and pulled
out a soda.  "I'll just go up to my room and unpack, I think.  I
should get everything back in order before the guys get home.  Sound
good?"
     "It does.  And.. David?"
     David grabbed his bags again.  "Hm?"
     "It's good to have someone else back."
     "Good to be back, SARA."


                                 <*>

                               Remains
                                  #4
                               Recovery

                                 Van

                              Featuring:
                            Ben Washington
                           Chris Robertson
                            Christie Baker
                             David Miller
                           Jamie Robertson
                             Julie Baker
                              Kim Nelson
                            Robyn Simmons
                                 SARA
                           Steven Dennison
                             Tina Wright
                    and a few other people.  Aigh!

                                 <*>

Continuity Note:
     This takes place after Remains #3.  Neat how that works, isn't
it?  It also takes place early July.

                                 <*>


     "Dad!!"
     Hector Simmons was a large man, rather well built from years of
lifting boxes and moving shelves.  Thanks to that, he was only pushed
back a few steps by the speeding daughter attack, and not knocked to
the ground.
     The father and child just hugged for a moment, not trusting words
to do the job properly.  Finally Robyn backed off and grinned widely.
"How long're you gonna be here?"
     "Two days is it.  Your mother's keeping the store with the
O'Brian boy."  Hector paused to give Robyn a fatherly Such A Good Boy,
Why Don't You Come Home And Go Out With Him look.  Robyn, having
memories of Ed O'Brian as a stuffed shirt who thought he was Elvis's
gift to women and wouldn't spare her a glance even if she wanted one,
which she most emphatically *didn't*, really and truly would she lie,
didn't acknowledge the look.
     "That's great, Dad.  C'mon in.  Everybody's gone or downstairs in
the middle of something except SARA, but she'd like to meet you."
     Hector nodded and put an arm around his daughter, earning him a
small Would You Stop That, You're Embarrassing Me I'm Sixteen And Can
Walk Myself look.  Yes, this family had expressive faces.  He let go
and followed her through the garage, pausing only for the requisite
"Wow" while passing the S9000.  They went through the door into the
house, coming out on the far side of the kitchen.
     "Hello, Robyn.  This is your father?" came a quiet female voice
from an intercom next to the door.
     "Yup!  Dad, SARA.  SARA, Dad.  She's a computer, I mentioned
her."
     "Yes, you did..."  Hector shrugged a bit, though his shoulders
made a small shrug from him equal to a big one from lesser men.  "A
pleasure.  Robyn's claimed you as a good friend."
     "I try, sir.  Are you hungry from your trip?  I have no means to
prepare food myself, but we have some sandwiches left over from
lunch."
     "No thanks, I stopped off and ate just a bit ago."
     "Very well, sir.  Shall I withdraw my presence and leave you two
to talk?"
     Hector grinned widely down at his daughter.  "No, I think I'll
probably need someone to warn me when Robyn's exaggerating some."
     "Pbbbbbbbbt!"
     "You know something, SARA?"
     "Hm?"
     "You don't realize how much you miss your child giving you a
raspberry until she's gone."
     SARA chuckled quietly as Hector sat down slowly on the couch.
Robyn plopped down into a nearby recliner, fuming slightly.
     "Thinks I'd lie to him...  Geez."
     Two voices replied to Robyn in sync.  "Of course you wouldn't,
you'd just stretch the truth."  Hector paused and looked at the
nearest intercom, blinking in surprise.  Finally his smile returned
and Hector laughed quietly.
     "I take it she hasn't changed much, has she?"
     "It sounds like that's a good assumption."
     "Heh."  Hector scratched his chin thoughtfully.  "How's she doing
with schoolwork?  She'd only tell me over the phone that everything
was 'fine'."
     "And they keep on talking about me like I'm not even here, not
even bothering to acknowledge my existence even though they just met
two minutes ago and..."  Robyn continued to mutter from her couch
quietly in this vein.
     "The tutor we hired seems to think she's doing reasonably well,
although he claims she should be chained to the desk to make sure she
doesn't wander off when she should be studying.  She's catching up
with the work she missed while on the move fairly quickly, when she's
willing to try."
     "...wasting all my time trying to do all that work in a third the
time and I almost never have any time to do anything fun and it's been
a week since I've been able to go on patrol even though I'm doing
great with Ben's little gym classes but nobody takes me seriously..."
     "That sounds great, SARA.  I..  Well, I'll admit I'd be much
happier if she'd come home, but..."  Hector sighed.  "Looks like I
have to live with what I can get.  Way life seems to go, sometimes."
     "...and here he goes again with the guilt trip but I'm not gonna
listen, nope.  Boring, boring, boring town and everyone's so dull and
all hicks and why can't he move here if he wants me around, but no I'm
a kid so I can't have it my way..."
     Hector turned to look at his droning daughter with an amused
smile.  "She's good at that, isn't she?"
     "The best.  She's even managed to replace Michael's record of
sixty-five minutes, thirty-two seconds from the last time he tried to
fix the microwave."  SARA paused.  "She really has missed you, sir.
Your visit has been all she's thought about for the past week."
     "...'course I've missed him, s'not like I'm some kinda monster
and anyway why are you just babbling everything?  Next thing I know
you'll start quoting to him from my diary and then who knows..."
     "Yes, well.."  Hector shrugged.  "She never was good at showing
affection."
     "I am!"
     "Oh really?  I noticed you haven't given your old man a hug yet."
     "Yes I did; when we were outside!" Robyn said indignantly.
     "There weren't any witnesses.  Your word against mine."  Hector
smiled smugly.  "That means I get another hug."
     SARA chuckled.  "I think I see the family resemblance."
     "But she's cuter."  Hector grinned at his reddening daughter.
"You haven't changed a bit, Robyn.  Look exactly the same, sound the
same, turn the same shade of red.  Elvis, it's been a long time..."
     "I.. yeah, Dad."  Robyn's face settled on a sheepishly sad
expression as she stared at the floor.  She finally looked up and
spoke quietly.  "Um, SARA?  We're gonna go to my room, okay?  And I'd
like some privacy while we talk.  We'll be down for dinner, I guess."
     "Of course, Robyn.  Mr. Simmons, a pleasure.  The guest room is
waiting for you when you are ready."
     "Thank you, ma'am."  Hector Simmons rose quietly and walked over
to give his daughter a hand up.  SARA watched quietly through a camera
as Robyn shot a tiny, nervous grin her way before leading her father
upstairs.

                                 <*>

     This was it.  The moment of truth.  He would finally be able to
prove he belonged here, and wasn't just some leech hanging on to the
team.  Chris Robertson took a deep breath, then let it out waited.
     Over to the side, Ben had finally gotten the policeman in charge
of the situation to let Chris have a go at it.  Officer Rosan was more
or less willing to pass the buck on to someone else, but there was
still the matter of professional pride.  She couldn't just let two
superguys waltz in and take over, after all.  But the officer figured
she'd gotten in her requisite "We Can Handle This Perfectly Fine"
argument, and was now able to back off and let the heroes get
slaughtered instead of her people.
     "All done, Chris," called Ben.  He walked over to Chris and
continued in a lower voice.  "I'm letting you at this Raider person,
but I'll be here as backup.  This is your first time in a real
situation, so call on me if you need anything.  Got it?"
     "Sure.  Don't worry, I'll be fine."
     "Mmm.  Well, the person in there attempted to rob the store, then
stopped and decided to hold hostages when there wasn't enough in the
register.  The police aren't sure about powers, except for some sort
of explosive pellets.  Possibly unstable personality, but that's
nothing new."  Ben shrugged slightly.  "That's all we know.  Have fun,
and try not to get anybody hurt."
     "Come on, Ben...  Trust me."  Chris smiled happily underneath his
helmet.  Finally!
     "Uh-huh.  Well, go to it."
     Chris strode impressively towards the store's front entrance.
This was more because of the inherent impressiveness of large power
armor than anything Chris did.  As a matter of fact, the fact the
Vanguard armor's helmet hid Chris's face was all that saved him from
humiliation at later seeing his `heroic' (read: constipated)
expression on the news.
     "OKAY!!"  Chris pondered for a second, then turned down the voice
amplifier.  "Okay.  Here's the deal.  You come out and surrender and
everything's happy.  If you don't, we'll fight and you'll end up
hurt."
     In the background, Ben took out a notepad and put a `D' next to
Negotiation Skills.  There was no response from the convenience store.
     "All right, then," Chris muttered.  He spoke up again.  "How
about you just let the hostages out?"
     This time, he got a response.  "If I do that, you'll just come in
here and attack me!"
     "Well, yeah!  You're a villain, I'm a hero.  That's what we're
supposed to do, right?"
     There was silence for a few seconds as the villain inside
considered that.  "Oh.  Okay."
     Back over at the police line, Ben made a note on the pad.  "Good
at dealing with idiots.  Considering most of the people we run into,
that's a plus."
     We'll just fast-forward through the next five minutes.  The only
thing important that happened then was six hostages filing out of the
store while the police quietly rolled their eyes.  Chris stood by,
unmoving as he played a game of Solitaire on his viewscreen to pass
the time. Unfortunately, he ended up being a little distracted by the
game and didn't notice when the hostages were all out.
     "Hey, hero guy!"  The villain stepped to the doorway, wearing a
man with an unimpressive physique in a dark brown unadorned full
bodysuit.  The only part of the man that showed through the costume
were his eyes.  "We were about to fight, remember?"
     Chris blinked back to reality and moved into a fighting crouch as
he saved the game.  "Of course I remember.  I was.. just waiting for
you to come and fight me on my own ground!"
     "Wow, you're good," the man said with amazement.  "But that will
not save you, for now you face... the Raisinette Rebel!!"
     "The.. raisinette rebel."
     "No, with a little more flair.  Say it with me.  Raisinette
Rebel."
     "Raisinette Rebel."
     Ben quietly made a few more notes in the background, then set his
notepad to the side and watched.
     "Very good.  So, who're you?"
     "I'm.."  Chris paused.  He couldn't be Vanguard.  As far as most
everyone was concerned, he was just a mysterious new member of the
team.  He had to wear sunglasses when he went to the mall to invoke
the mask principle and keep from having to explain to people that he
really *wasn't* Jon, for crying out loud.  The armor he was wearing
had been repainted black after he began training to further cover his
identity, but even so... he couldn't say he was Vanguard without
making people curious.  Or maybe he could.  Chris was a bit too
panicked to think through it clearly.
     "You are...?"
     "Chris!"
     "Chris."
     "Yeah."
     "No, what's your hero identity?"
     "Chris."
     "That's your secret identity.  Or not secret, since you just
babbled it all over the place."
     "No it isn't.  My secret identity is _Chris Robertson_.  My
codename is Chris."  Luckily, a random burst of strange and mysterious
forces kept the reporters around from hearing Chris's full name and
wondering about the last name.
     "Um.. right.  Whatever.  Now.. Chris!  My first archenemy!  You
will pay for stopping all my plans that you haven't stopped yet but
will eventually!"
     "..."
     The Raisinette Rebel dropped his voice into a stage whisper.
"It's your line."
     Chris nodded slowly and brought up his hands in a numb and
unimpressive display.  His armor began channeling the energy from him
into the gauntlets, then let them out as a wave of force and light,
with a slightly reddish tint.  The Raisinette Rebel made a gesture in
front of him, and a shield of glowing raisinettes formed in front of
him to block the blast.
     "Ha!  The power of raisinettes shall protect me from your feeble
attack!"
     Chris brought his hands down and just looked at the Rebel for a
minute.  Finally he snorted and shook his head.  "Right.  Forget
this."
     The quiet humming coming from Chris's armor suddenly became much
more audible, and he threw all his power into the next blast.  RR's
shield was blown to pieces, and enough force remained to knock the man
behind to the ground.  Unfortunately, Chris forgot about that little
thing known as narrowing your blast.  The store's windows shattered
inward, and the brick walls cracked.
     "Um.. eep?"  The Raisinette Rebel stood back up shakily and
prepared one of his explosive raisinettes, then watched as one of
Chris's hands tracked him.  "Okay, I surrender already!"
     "Then drop the... raisinette and go with the police peacefully."
Chris considered the damaged wall.  Nah, too messed up to beat his
head into safely.  He watched the police take the Rebel away, then
walked back over to Ben.
     "How'd I do?"
     "Well, not that bad.  A little property damage, but if people
ever start complaining about that you can always mention Mighty Guy's
name and remind them how lucky they are that you're handling stuff.
Let's see.. you don't get to negotiate with anyone, and I'd prefer you
not do anything solo as a matter of public safety.  Besides that,
you're cleared."
     "Yes!" Chris crowed.
     <Why do I have a feeling of impending doom?> Ben thought.

[To be continued in Part Two!  Yaaaay!]