Bittersweet: Happy Anniversary CoH

Brent casually walked down the street, a light jacket zipped clear to the top. Winter still hadn’t fully loosened his tight grasp on the season—for a moment Brent entertained the thought of going all the way to Lord and Lady Winter’s realm to have a word—but no… that would just bring down trouble. Besides, there were no more heroes to join him. He kicked a rock and scowled. It skipped across the pavement. Well—there were heroes—and villains—but they’d all been forced into hiding. What was the excuse used again? Something about perpetuating a cycle? Being too dangerous? Maybe it was that the amount of supers in one area was just /asking/ for the Rikti invasion? He couldn’t remember the specifics—he just remembered his eviction notice.

The thought of the shining city on a hill depressed him and Brent scanned the streets for something to distract him. He felt cold, pulling the jacket around him a little tighter. He wasn’t sure /when/ he started to care for Paragon—he just knew that at some point the City had become part of him. It was in his blood—as much as the Rogue Isles—and it /meant/ something to him. Some of his harder, darker villains allies—friends? Yes, friends, he could use that word—would tease him about it. Rogues and Vigilantes, despite remaining the same on the inside, had a distinctly different image in their community. The little shades of gray became significantly more noticeable when Paragon finally loosened up its laws to allow for them. True, there were some who complained—there always were—but overall, many felt the change was for the better.

Unable to hold back the memories, Brent found himself wishing he could stroll along Spanky’s boardwalk in Talos or the walks in Martial’s—or maybe even the beaches of Cimeroa. Cim was always a great place to meditate—until a rebel warrior clad in armor found you.—Dispatching of said rebel and sending him running like a coward back to his leader was always fun too. Brent smiled. Ah, Rommy. How many times had he gone back to kick that Nictus-infested derriere? He swore at one point it was almost a nightly ritual. A ball idly bounced past him and he stopped. The soft sound of rubber soles on pavement caught his attention—as did the low murmur of an approaching engine. Brent looked over his shoulder and saw a car speeding down the street.

“JIMMY NO!” The sound of a woman’s terrified scream filled his ears. Brent saw a blur and his hand shot out, almost unconsciously. It snapped shut around the back of a little boy’s coat, jerking the kid back. The car hit the ball; the resounding pop vibrating off the ear drums. Brent could feel his heart in his throat and looked down to see the boy—Jimmy—staring at the small pile of rubber that had been his ball. Brent idly wondered how many times he’d nearly been hit while traversing Paragon—or the Rogue Isles—or Praetoria. Guess it was a universal problem.

“You okay kid?” Brent sputtered, not yet loosening his grip on the child’s coat. The boy blinked and looked up at him, as if noticing him for the first time. Brent remembered his initial brush with death—that moment when you realized just how close you were to dying—everything else seemed to fade away and you were stuck in your thoughts. Slowly Jimmy nodded. Brent forced a smile and let go. “Good.—You need to be more careful. Some people don’t stop for anything.”

“Jimmy!” Two arms encircled the boy. Both the retired rogue and boy were startled, having completely forgotten about the woman. Her eyes were red and tears still ran down her cheeks. “OH Jimmy! Come inside /right now/.”

“It’s… okay mum…” The boy hugged her tightly back. “This guy saved me.”

“Thank you so much,” The woman looked up at Brent with an expression he had slowly come to accept. He could never fully describe it—he just knew the gratitude was genuinely felt and deep. Her voice still wobbled from the emotion. “How can we ever repay you?”

“Oh it’s… it’s fine…” Brent shifted uncomfortably.

“Surely, there must be something…” The mother insisted eagerly.

“Really, I’m just glad he’s okay,” Brent rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. There was a time he’d have demanded money or other goods—but now that all seemed… pointless. He found that sometimes the gratitude was enough—the knowledge that you /did/ something worthwhile. He shrugged, “I’d want the same done for my kid—if I had one.” Brent felt his innards twist and his smile wobbled. Kids… he’d met them. All of them—except one—but at that point there hadn’t been time to meet the boy he named after his best friend(s). Oh, to live in such an age—and place—where time blurred and you could mingle with the Past, Present, and Future! Stupid Menders… sure they had averted the Coming Storm—but why couldn’t they fix… Brent shook his head a little and hastily stepped aside, “Hey kid, next time… pay more attention okay? I can’t guarantee someone will be there to help.”

“Okay,” Jimmy smiled shyly. The little boy sighed, “I wish there was.—I heard of a City once—a City full of heroes… and villains too, but mainly heroes! And it was /awesome/!—I hoped that when I got bigger I could go there…. But they say it closed down.”

“It was…” Brent replied quietly, looking at his feet. The little boy blinked.

“You’ve been there?” He asked in wide-eyed wonder.

“Been there, kid, I /lived/ there,” Brent met the boy’s gaze and grinned.

“Wow….” Jimmy’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “I bet you were a /great/ hero.”

“I… tried to be great,” Brent picked his words carefully. At one time he’d have recoiled at the title being used in the same sentence as him. Now he just shrugged and treated it as a badge of honor. Part of the freedom that came with the rogue ‘territory’ was being able to slip between the sides at will—one day playing the daring hero and the next playing the charming villain.

“Jimmy, I’m sure this nice man has more important things to do,” the mother smiled and turned her child back toward the house, slowly starting to herd him inside. Brent wasn’t sure if it was the near accident or his association with Paragon was to blame. Not everyone liked it—or fully appreciated it. Brent gave a small salute and started to walk back down the road.

“Thanks again mister!” Jimmy waved. Brent nodded to him and turned back to his thoughts. Perhaps the streets of Paragon where dark—perhaps he couldn’t go back—now—maybe someday…. But—there were still things he could do. Somehow that made the exile a little easier.