|Fic -- No Good Deed
||[Dec. 28th, 2008|03:58 am]
Hail the Rogues!
Title: No Good Deed
Word Count: 1800
Characters: The Top/Golden Glider, Double Down; cameos by Chyre and Morillo.
Summary: Everyone's favourite middle-aged ex-Rogues try something different: heroism.
Warnings: Some violence.
Notes: Set in my Dillonsverse timeline. In case you are not particularly familiar with some of Roscoe's mental powers, here are a couple of examples.
On a quiet weekday afternoon, Lisa and Roscoe Dillon were tidying the house…before the kids came home from school and messed it up again. The television was on, tuned to a local channel for background noise, and they occasionally paid it idle attention as they worked.
“Hmm, there’s a breaking news story,” Lisa noted as a breathless reporter blurted information at the camera. She turned up the volume to listen.
“…sources say several Rogues are hiding out in the building, holding a small girl hostage. Police have the building surrounded and are waiting to see what happens next, as nobody has been able to contact the Flash…”
“That’s awful,” Lisa said sorrowfully, and put her arms around her husband. “Poor little girl. I wish there was something we could to do to help.”
Roscoe imagined to himself that the girl looked like Star when she was younger, and felt uncomfortable. It could be his daughter trapped with those maniacs, and that bothered him.
“Maybe we can help…” he said slowly. “I have superpowers. Who says the Flash has a monopoly on heroism?”
“You’re not serious?” Lisa asked, startled, and he nodded.
“I can do it alone if you don’t want to, hon,” he suggested, heading for the attic to retrieve his old uniform, but she hurried after him.
“No way! You’re not going to have all the fun,” she announced with determination, and ran past him to get there first.
Five minutes later they were putting on the finishing touches of their costumes. Roscoe’s fit more comfortably than Lisa’s, as his was made of stretch fabric and could accommodate his extra pounds more easily, though Lisa wasn’t very happy with her situation.
“Oh my God, I’ve gained so much weight!” she wailed as she fiddled with the overly-tight buttons around her bosom.
“No you haven’t,” he soothed. “You look fine.”
“It’s too tight!”
“We have a job to do, hon, let’s worry about that later.”
They were heading for the front door to leave the house when they suddenly encountered a surprised-looking Star and Nate returning home from school.
“Um, what the hell..?” Nate asked with confusion when he saw how they were dressed, and his mother gave a nervous little laugh.
“We’re, uh, going out to be superheroes. We’ll be back later,” she told them.
“A kid needs rescuing downtown,” Roscoe added brusquely, and walked past them.
“Way to go Mom and Dad!” Nate cheered, and Star gave Lisa a hug.
“Good luck, guys,” Star whispered in her mother’s ear. She felt proud of her parents for the first time since learning they’d once been criminals.
“Thanks honey,” Lisa replied gratefully, taking to the air on her skates. Roscoe began to spin, since he could move faster that way, and together they headed downtown.
At the site of the hostage-taking, the police were still surrounding the building and figuring out what to do next. They were extraordinarily dismayed to see two newcomers approaching, because the older officers recognized them almost immediately.
“Oh, great,” Fred Chyre groaned as he and the rest of the cops pointed their guns at the converging figures. “Just what we needed: more Rogues.”
“Hold it right there!” Jared Morillo shouted. “Don’t come any closer, or we’ll shoot!”
Lisa paused on her ice slide in mid-air, and Roscoe came to a halt in the road.
“We’re here to help!” Lisa declared, putting up her hands as a show of faith, but the officers didn’t lower their guns.
“Yeah, right. Here to help your buddies is more like it. I thought you two retired!” Chyre shouted back.
“We did, but we have children of our own. We want to help rescue the girl,” Roscoe explained calmly. “I don’t see the Flash around here, so you are out of your element.”
He took a step forward, and about ten guns were suddenly cocked. He took another step, and several cops fired at him. Lisa screamed in fear for her husband’s life, but he telekinetically deflected the bullets with ease.
“We’re wasting time,” Roscoe told them. “Will you let me past?”
Chyre lowered his gun. “We probably can’t stop him anyway,” he muttered, and the other cops slowly followed.
“Excellent,” Roscoe replied, all business, and Lisa swooped down to join him on the ground.
“What now, baby?” she asked as the cops watched them warily.
“I’m going inside to grab the kid. You stay out here, it’s too dangerous for you.”
“I’m not a china doll, Roscoe! I can handle myself like you can!”
“I have powers, and you don’t. Stay here.”
He suddenly spun away, startling all the cops and leaving behind his very angry wife.
“Hmph,” she muttered irritably, crossing her arms.
A green and yellow blur sped into the old building, moving up the stairs in seconds. It wasn’t difficult to figure out where the Rogues and their hostage were holed up, because he could hear men’s laughter and a child’s crying from one of the rooms. In an instant, he was in the doorway.
“Let the girl go,” he ordered, and the young Rogues stared at him.
“Who the hell are you?” one demanded, flinging a razor-sharp playing card at him, but his telekinetic shield easily blocked it.
“One of your predecessors, and certainly one of your betters,” Roscoe declared grumpily, quite unimpressed with this new generation of Rogues. “I warned you. Now spin.”
The villains and little girl suddenly grabbed their heads in pain from his vertigo-inducement attack, and many fell over, disoriented.
“I’m dizzy!” one of the stupider Rogues shouted, stating the obvious. “What’s he doing to us?”
Another pulled out some kind of ray gun and fired at him, but the shot went wild due to the young man’s difficulty maintaining balance. Roscoe laughed.
“If that’s the best you can do, no wonder crime is on the decline in this city.”
“Hey Grandpa -- how’s this?” a new voice called, and Roscoe suddenly clutched at his own head.
“What...?” he gasped, knees buckling under him. He was desperately struggling against an overwhelming urge to sleep, and though his mental powers gave him a degree of protection against such attacks, it was a losing battle. His own vertigo effect ceased and the others got to their feet, watching him stagger around until he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
“Good work, bro,” the young leader praised, and the Rogue who’d brought him down exchanged a high five with the others.
“Whadda we do with him?” one asked, and the others grinned.
“Cut him to bits,” Double Down laughed. “We’ll hang him out the window as a warning to the cops and the Flash.”
“I don’t think so!” Lisa announced, zipping into the room on her skates. She slashed Double Down’s chest as he screamed in pain, and quickly manoeuvred out of the way of the men who tried to grab her.
“Kill the bitch!” Double Down shrieked furiously, and she zoomed out the way she’d come, the men in hot pursuit. That left Roscoe lying alone on the floor, so the little girl -- now without anyone guarding her -- ran over to him.
“Wake up, mister!” she urged, shaking him desperately, and he moaned softly. “Mister, wake up!”
“Oh damn…” he groaned, slowly rubbing his eyes. Through a haze, he could hear the commotion of the Rogues chasing Lisa, but didn’t know what was happening.
“We have to get out of here `fore they come back!” the girl told him, and he struggled to his knees.
“Yes. Let’s go,” he said wearily. He heard Lisa scream as she was hit by the ray gun elsewhere in the building, and his eyes widened in horror. “Lisa…”
Arms and legs feeling rubbery and weak, he lifted the girl and held her to his chest. “Hold on, sweetie. Whatever you do, don’t let go.”
As soon as she put her arms around his neck, he began to spin. He wasn’t moving at even near top speed due to exhaustion, but she threw up all over him and he kept going. They spun down the stairs and past two Rogues, who were startled by the blur, and rushed outside to the police. There, he gave the dazed girl to the officers and headed back inside to find his wife.
Lisa was lying on the floor, straining to break free from the two men holding her down.
“You bitch…” Double Down fumed at her, still bleeding heavily. “I’m gonna take that out of your sweet little hide.”
She spat in his face and he slapped her, but then he was suddenly lifted into the air and slammed headfirst into the wall.
“Don’t you ever touch my wife again,” Roscoe growled, eyes glowing a bright green. Everyone in the vicinity, including Lisa, rose into the air and struggled to get down, but he held them fast with telekinesis. Double Down was repeatedly sent crashing into the wall, crying out in pain with each hit, but his wails were getting weaker. Roscoe then dropped him and focused on the other Rogues, viciously beating them against a wall or other solid object until they’d been severely injured. Only when they were all limp and silent did he let Lisa down and run to her side.
“Are you all right?” he asked anxiously, looking at the nasty burn on her leg. She smiled up at him, glad to see him, but a little frightened by what he’d done to the men.
“Yeah, it’ll heal. It hurts, but I’m okay. How about you, sexybutt?”
“I’m all right. Covered in kid-vomit, but fine…thanks to you. Obviously I was wrong about you going in -- you did great work,” he said tenderly as he picked her up and carried her outside.
“Glad you noticed,” she teased, rubbing his face affectionately as he put her down on the grass, and several paramedics ran over to examine her. Roscoe fell to his knees, exhausted, and a police officer draped a blanket over his shoulders; the other cops rushed into the building and took the young Rogues into custody. The little girl ran over and hugged him, and thinking of his daughter, he hugged her back.
“You two did a good job,” Chyre said with grudging appreciation, shaking both their hands, and they smiled at each other with proud satisfaction.
“So this is what it feels like to be a hero,” Roscoe noted as he pulled off his sweaty mask. He figured everyone knew who he was anyway. “Not bad, I guess.”
“And so sexy in that uniform,” Lisa winked as her leg was bandaged. “I think you’ll have to wear it to bed tonight.”
“Why would I wear..?” he asked, confused, and then it dawned on him. “Ah. Of course. Well, only if you wear yours too, hon...”