By the next day, I marginally recovered from the shock of all I learned. My heart had settled around the news, perhaps a little downtrodden and coated in dust from the explosive upheaval of what I thought had been the reality of my life, but I could adapt to it, given time.
I hoped that I would get that time.
I still went to work like normal; I had nothing better to do, really. As with most of my ingenious schemes, the idea to use my all-access pass into the darkest corners of the Guildhall in order to uncover any dark secrets they may have been hiding worked better in theory than in practice.
I held some hope that perhaps they were foolish enough to leave documents alluding to gross negligence and misuse of power in the Archive for me to peruse at my leisure while I "organized".
Crossing my fingers, I pleaded for the karmic forces of the universe to let them be fools.
Windless, one of the sister Supers working up at reception, walked me down and gave a brief rehashing of my duties, as well as a quick check on my progress from yesterday, before leaving me to my solitude. Twice, Ren dropped by to check up on me, an event neither of us particularly looked forward to, but for better or for worse, he became my de facto handler over the recent days.
I didn't know who I pitied more, him or me.
It soon became apparent that in order to snoop I actually needed to do what they brought me there to do, which came as a devastating blow. Nevertheless, I persevered and set to work clearing a path through the mountains and valleys of paper, where one ill-directed sneeze could summon an avalanche to suffocate me.
Through a series of hops, skips, and well aimed leaps, I made it to one of the nearer filing cabinets and forced open a middle drawer, one I could easily rifle through. It took several increasingly insistent tugs, a war against the rust that sealed parts of the wheels in place.
Passing thoughts about the odds of getting tetanus stilled my hands temporarily, before I disregarded the notion, not because I thought my curse would allow for me to NOT get tetanus if even the smallest chance existed, but because my dad made it a point to keep me vaccinated against such things. On the off chance my immunity failed me, I imagined I stood a competitive chance of being able to sue the Guild for bad workplace safety. Maybe. I wasn't a lawyer. Was that even a thing? I hoped so. After all, I didn't want to get tetanus without getting a hefty tuition payment out of it.
"You might have more success organizing if you'd start with the paper on the outside and worked your way in."
I jumped, cursing against my suddenly spiked heart rate. "Who the hell—"
The papers in my hands scattered in every direction, the unmistakable sound of cascading sheets mimicking the sound of a dozen phone books being fanned at once, followed by a light creaking as a filing cabinet began tipping forward.
At that point, I wasn't even surprised.
Now that I knew all these incidents were the result of a "curse", as my dad put it, I couldn't even muster the energy to be afraid of the inevitable scrapes and broken bones that being crushed by metal would entail. I wasn't even all that taken aback when the decades old cabinet bounced off a barrier of invisible wind that tore through my hair. A firm pressure around my arm jerked me out of the way in the knick of time, right as the wind withdrew and allowed the metal cabinet to crash to the ground exactly where I'd been standing.
I could have wept at the catastrophe around us. "That will take ages to put back the way it was."
"That should be the least of your worries," Tempest remarked, surprising me by his proximity.
I repressed the instinct to leap away, in part because there was no way I could pull that off casually, as well as because there was no place for me to go. The fallen cabinet and mountains of paper crowded me in from the front and sides, with Tempest pressed up against my back.
Trying my best to appear at ease, I extricated myself from his hold and twisted to face him.
So close. I swallowed and stepped back the fraction of an inch my surroundings allowed, peering up at him.
"Why the long face?" he asked, and, taking the hint, he hastened to make space between us, too, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.
"I've been thinking this for awhile, but you look familiar. Like really familiar. Really, really."
His hand stilled, dropping to his side. Then his grin returned with near blinding force. "Is that wishful thinking, I hear?"
I mimicked his tone. "Is that deflection, I hear?"
Looking to the ceiling in a way that made me believe he was definitely rolling his eyes beneath that mask, he said, "Let's just get all this mess cleaned up before you get yourself into more danger."
Palm held flat out in front of him, almost, but not quite, touching the fallen cabinet, energy seemed to whirl through the air around us until I felt unseeable wind rush past me. Stray paper fluttered from their stacks, creating even more of a mess, and I leapt to intervene.
"Use your wind in here and I'll kill you," I warned.
The forming gust immediately ceased, and several untethered papers drifted back to the ground. "Message received."
"That means, unfortunately, that we have the unglamorous task of hefting this bad boy back into place by hand," I continued, kneeling down to take one bottom corner of the cabinet and indicating for Tempest to do the same with the other.
"I'm sure I could get Boulder down here to lift it for us," he said, referring to the Super with enhanced strength, usually brought in to help in the aftermath of great building collapses to dig people out of the rubble.
"Far be it from me to promote manual labor, but it'll be more effort climbing up and down the stairs just to find Boulder. Might as well just do it ourselves."
My true motives were not so noble. Of course I didn't want to lift the filing cabinet myself. Unfortunately, giving into my laziness also meant letting Ren know what a mess I'd made, and I sensed he'd have strong opinions.
I made a show of lifting from my end, glaring Tempest down all the while, until he eventually relented and came to help me out. The bottom of the cabinet made it about three marvelous inches off the ground before I came to the grim realization that maybe Tempest was more than just a pretty face with superpowers, because he was probably onto something when he implied our physical strength wasn't up to the task.
"How much do you think this weighs?" I gasped out between breaths.
A muscle in his neck strained as Tempest answered, "Like its packing bricks instead of paper."
"I- I think I'm going to let-"
Before I could finish the sentence, the rusted metal slipped out from my cramping fingers and I jumped away to prevent them from being squashed flat. Tempest reacted slower. Too slow. I flinched in anticipation of what was to come, only the howls of pain never rang out. When I reopened my eyes, a tall woman stood behind him, her hands pressed up on either side of his, and together they worked the cabinet into its original standing position like it was no sweat at all.
Show offs.
Then, I recognized her.
"You're Boulder," I said, awed. Speak of the Devil.
At my voice, she glanced over, smirking, and brushed her hands off on her bubble-gum pink, faux leather pants that tucked into her Guild gray boots. Her smirk came across less as a condescending mean girl, and more conspiratorial, accompanied by a wink.
"I was in the training room when I heard a loud crash, and I rushed over just in case someone needed saving. Although..." she gave Tempest a light-hearted pat on the head, the way an older sister might do, "I didn't suspect I'd get the honor of saving our rising star."
Tempest groaned, "I'll never hear the end of this."
"You're the one who suggested finding her in the first place," I pointed out.
"There's a big difference between asking for help and being rescued," he replied.
"I'll keep in mind that I'm supposed to be extra embarrassed the next time I need rescuing," I said flatly.
Tempest backtracked hastily. "I didn't mean it like that. You're normal! It's different for you!"
"Because I can't fly around, it's expected for me to have less dignity." I lifted a brow. "Is that it?"
"No. No! That's not what I said-"
Boulder's quiet amusement boiled over into full blown laughter. Grabbing Tempest by the collar she dragged him with her towards the door. Against her strength, he had no choice except to comply.
Chuckling, she asked him, "Do you need a shovel to help you keep digging this hole you're in?"
"Oh, shut it," he muttered back.
As they fell into their own conversation, I moved about tidying, setting everything back to how it was before. The only plus side of all the pre-existing mess turned out to be that it made it difficult to distinguish what part of the disorder was new.
Eventually, snippets of their conversation filtered through my unwilling mind. Despite my nosey intentions for being at the Guild, I had been doing my best not to eavesdrop, in case they intended for privacy, but given that they expended no effort keeping their voices down, I chose to believe they didn't mind my overhearing.
"So you're both going to the Gala, then?" I inquired, sorting the papers around me into separate piles depending on if they were surrounding damage claims, villain sightings, rescues, or regular expense reports.
"I am, but I'll be on call," Tempest sighed.
"The tragedy of being too good at your job," Boulder simpered, dripping false sympathy. "Luckily, I'm only really good with clean up, so I have the evening free to get as much donation money off the wealthy politicians and entrepreneurs in attendance as possible."
Sounded depressing.
"Sounds fun," I lied. "I'm going, too."
"You are?" they questioned in unison, their mutual surprise nearing the threshold of being insulting.
Tempest's expression soon cleared. "Ah. Leigh's handiwork, I presume?"
Weird that he'd know that, but I nodded, regardless.
"Why not you two go together?" Boulder said, her question coming across too innocent to ever really be authentic. "That way, you'll have round the clock security in case Shade makes an appearance to try and nab you again."
"I don't see a problem with it," Tempest said with an all-too-casual shrug.
He wouldn't.
"No way. Nuh uh. Not happening." And in case that left room for interpretation, I added, "Perhaps when hell freezes over I'll consider it, and then my final answer will still be no."
"First of all, harsh." Tempest shot me a look so despairing, so desolate, I could only compare it to a stray dog left out in the snow. "Are you afraid Shade will see you on the news when you arrive with me? If he does, at least you'll be close by, and besides, it'll be fun to arrive together!"
"Shade wants me alive." I said. "Your fans, on the other hand, after they see me next to their idol? They'll very much want me dead. In a ditch. Ripped limb from limb. Besides, I agreed to show up with Leigh, and I fear her more than you or Shade."
That was true enough. She'd reached a level of friendship where, if we ever went our separate ways, she knew far too much about my most awkward and embarrassing moments to be allowed to freely wander the earth. I'd be forced to hire a hitman, and I by no means had the cash for that sort of pricey venture, so that only left being stuck with her forever.
"I told you before. I don't have fans," Tempest said.
Even Boulder appeared incredulous at that remark. "What else do you call the hordes of screaming girls who stalk your rescues throughout the city? The million fan pages and fan accounts?"
"Your only defense is that they aren't called fans? You won't even pretend to disagree with my assumption that they'd murder me for being seen with you, so you obviously think them more than capable." More to myself, I supplied, "Actually, I worry some of the less hinged ones might think that me daring to get rescued twice was a step too far. They might think I'm doing it on purpose at this point. WHICH," I hurried to add for the record, "I. Am. NOT."
"I don't think anyone truly believes you're capable of convincing Shade to kidnap you," Boulder said.
I shivered at the thought of what the fans might do should they eventually become convinced otherwise. It would probably include a dark alley and a baseball bat. "For my sake, I hope you're right."
Seemingly annoyed by my low opinion of his devoted groupies, Tempest looked up to the ceiling in a May Zeus Smite Me Now kind of way and defended weakly, "They aren't that bad."