Forever and Always

22

She heard police sirens and jumped up. She couldn't see over the people, so she scaled the building to get a little higher and... oh god. They were here.

Someone screamed, and she scowled.

York took a drag of his cigarette, looking over the people dancing. He supposed he could clap along, but then it would mean he would have to put out his cigarette, and he didn't exactly want to do that.

The traffic was horrible, like normal, except now it was because there were people dancing in the street. There were cardboard cutouts on the road that people were dancing on, the flag hung high from a building above them. People had long since abandoned their cars to see it, and York pulled his mask off as some people passed him, waving as they did.

He pulled it back down again to take another drag, blowing it out before pulling it back up.

He started walking- hearing the shouts of joy as he passed. It was peaceful now, everything seemed to be fine. That was, at least, until he noticed one of the men wearing a white wristband. Secret police. He sighed, tipping off a man who was standing to the side and smoking, much like he had been, letting him handle it.

He started walking towards where they were starting the wall of Trump's lies, smiling as he walked by them. They were being smart about it- even color coding them!

He found it hilarious, but he didn't bother to laugh. He tangled through the cars and people, getting to a small empty area and taking another drag with his mask off before putting it back on.

He started running. His energy was picking up from the people, their excitement fueled him, and he stomped out his cigarette underneath his food and started picking his way through the crowd. It was so loud. He loved it.

His body embraced the feeling before he realized it wasn't excitement- it was fear in his chest, rooting deep and growing like thorns. God, that was a feeling he hated, and he felt a traitor's mark on his back- a few small scars over his back that said 'fake war'- feel like they were set on fire.

He reached up to scratch at the pain for a moment before slipping into an alleyway. People were screaming, and he needed to see why.

The latters up to the roof were never the hardest for him to climb- no matter how old and rusted, and he gazed over the lip of the roof, hearing a large air conditioner behind him.

The flashing red and blue told him what, and he faltered, before shaking his head and glaring.

Not now- they weren't going anything. He watched as they got up and started blockading one of the few exits, tilting his head, now what was the point of that?

It took a few seconds for him to remember that there was a curfew.

He slumped over the lip, looking at all the people, before smiling. They couldn't arrest all of them.

California pulled her jacket up over her shoulders as she was moving. It wasn't exactly her most grateful movement, trying to keep it up instead of by her elbows, and she glanced over to the riot police. They had grabbed a woman by her hair and were pulling her to where many more were waiting.

She didn't flinch when she heard the bullets being fired, just continued running. A tear gas canister broke near her feet and she jumped away from it just as it started seeming it's gas. She wished she had brought something more- she had been prepared for gas but not at the capacity it was.

Next to her- for only a moment- a man stood, and she watched a canister collide with his bare neck. He screamed bloody murder- the cans were very, very hot, falling to the ground. It was already too late for him. With how fast they were being pushed back he was going to be going in the back of a bus much too soon.

Some seemed to be rallying in an attempt to push back, but nobody was as prepared as they should have been. Right now the thing that needed to be done was not holding their ground- more of, getting the fuck away.

She tripped, before deciding that enough of her was covered anyway and transforming, running even faster.

She slipped away, breathing heavily before she went further into the alleyways. They seemed to be her safest bet at the moment, as her original escape plan was eighteen blocks away on the other side of the rally.

Only one, slow breath, came from her before she continued moving.

Alfred was in the forest. Around him, he created holograms of the things happening around his nation. His eyes were bloodshot red, tear stains dripping down his face even though he had never felt stronger. It seemed he was only getting weaker.

He'd been hearing voices, Ivan knew, hearing people whispering horrible things in his ears- the sounds of his government talking. Everything, from mind control, to starting to gas in those damn camps. Something about using Tiktok as a cover after war crimes got released? He didn't know most of it, just what Alfred was mumbling to himself in an attempt to remove the noise from his head.

Alfred seemed to be changing. Horrible changes. Sometimes he wouldn't even look at Ivan- not let him touch him, didn't even like when he looked at him. He was skittish as well- but the racist type of skittish, not the normal fear.

He didn't want to be around his darker siblings anymore- not around the darker or asians in his house, and he didn't even seem to see them if they weren't completely, 100% human.

He scoffed at anything he once would have embraced with open arms. That included people, things- even ideas. Ivan made a comment about the Communist Manifesto and Alfred offhandedly said he'd hang him by his feet and drain his stomach if he supported it.

He didn't want to lose him.

Conner was worse. He'd almost slit Cherokee's throat. He was locked in the basement for his behavior, but it was still shocking, since Conner and Cherokee were close friends- not to mention, siblings.

Noah was a twitchy thing. Couldn't stop crying. Nobody knew why.

He just wanted them to be okay. He knew Alfred was in there somewhere- that's why he was crying. He still had his emotions, just not his words.