The crowd pressed against the barricade. Their arms waving through the gaps like large inflatable tube men that sit at used car dealerships. Their fevered flapping as unpredictable as the wind.

The police, standing on the opposite side of the barricade, did their best to keep the waving mass back. Undermanned as they were, it was an uphill fight. One where they were forced to focus on limiting their losses instead of making gains.

The atmosphere was less crazed or angry, like it’d been the last time Liam moved through these streets. But there was still a buzz to it. A pulsing in the breeze signaling this wasn’t like every other day.

Liam watched from inside the car. The thumping of the city kept out by a pane of glass. The spartan interior added an extra layer of defense between him and those who wanted in.

It felt like a lifetime ago he’d called this city home. Dedicating himself to protecting the people within. Now everything was different. The people were strangers, their bond broken long before.

Someday Liam might wash the slate clean. To start over from scratch as if nothing had happened. Going back to the person he’d once been. Days he felt that calling were the worst. He couldn’t have that anymore and had to move past. Yet knowing something was never enough.

The only bright spot in his thoughts was the frequency at which they were coming. He’d almost grown past them, every week there were fewer, but as with most things in his life it was a work in progress. One day there would be none. And that was what Liam was striving for.

Liam’s head fell back to the headrest. With his helmet on, Liam didn’t even register the cushion behind him. The move more a reflection of what had once brought comfort than an attempt to actually find any.

Sensing him move, the driver glanced in the rear-view mirror, strategically aligned not to look at the cars behind them and instead at the passenger in the rear.

Liam watched as the man’s mouth twitched once, a comment begging to see the light of day. For some reason the man turned back to the street, keeping whatever he wanted to say wrapped away.

Without acknowledging what almost happened, Liam thanked his lucky stars. The last thing he wanted right now was to talk to someone who didn’t understand what waited for him at his destination. Or worse, hear horrid advice from the uninformed. Lucky for him, the DCP had done wonderful work in hiring this man. While he was tempted to break it, he still held onto some form of professionalism.

The car made another turn, pulling them deeper into the labyrinth of the city. Those outside took advantage of the deceleration to snap photos of the vehicles tinted windows. They knew who was inside, yet the glare of the flashes prevented them from seeing.

With the pressure from outside building to an extreme, Liam half expected the car to come to a stop as the people burst past the barricade. That was when things changed. As if they were leaving a mountain pass, heading into the valley below, the car broke free of the crowd. Driving down a ramp under the imposing building in front of them.

Being away from the crowd, even if they were only a stone’s throw away, was a relief Liam clung to like a lifeline. He’d known being a Hero was hard, but he’d never expected a day like today.

The car came to a stop, and the driver hurried out, forgetting to shut his own door as he raced to let his passenger out. Only for Liam’s door to already be open. Liam wasn’t ancient nobility, he could open his own door.

The driver’s hand faltered as he saw Liam exiting the vehicle. When it was clear Liam would make it on his own, the man dropped his hand to his side and he stepped back as Liam came out of the car’s confined space. Liam had never been big, but in his suit, cramped spaces like the car were a new inconvenience. Each one presented obstacles he’d never imagined before, that he now had to overcome.

“Thanks for the ride,” Liam said, nodding to his driver as he strode past.

The underground garage they were in was big, but near devoid of people. Only a couple guards stood by an elevator to one side while the rest of the space was filled with cars. Packed in like sardines. But no one else was down here.

“It was a pleasure, sir,” the driver said as he shifted his feet. His eyes darting anywhere but at Liam.

“Is there something else you need?” Liam asked, stopping to look back at the man. He was a Hero after all, he wouldn’t leave the man wanting to say something. His delay was for that and had nothing to do with what was waiting past the elevator, Liam lied to himself.

“I have a daughter and,” the driver started. Slowly working his way through the first few words. Taking a deep breath, the man started up again, this time flying through the rest. “You’re her favorite Hero. If she found out I drove you around today and didn’t get her anything, she would go crazy. Would you mind?”

As the man spoke, he pulled something from behind his back. Looking close, Liam found the man was carrying a white cloth. Folded in a way to prevent Liam from seeing what was on it.

“I’d love to. Do you have a pen?” Liam asked.

“Oh… yes, one second.”

The driver handed Liam the bundle as he rushed back around the car. With a second to himself, Liam opened up the bundle and found a small shirt, his image in the center. At least the driver wasn’t lying about the shirt not being for him. Liam had heard of scalpers claiming to want autographs for themselves only to sell them later that day.

The image on the shirt was of his new suit. Frank, as always, was quick to the draw and had already gotten the new stuff on the market, Liam noted. That or this was a knockoff. He’d have to ask the man what else had already made it to the masses. Though, looking at the image, Liam found himself nodding at the results. If this was the real thing, he liked the design. Liam cut a striking image on the shirt, if he said so himself.

The driver rushed back, his face red as if he’d just ran a marathon. Reaching out, the man offered Liam a pen.

Taking the instrument, Liam asked. “What’s her name?”

“Emily,” the man replied, breathlessly.

“Any special message you’d like?”

“Anything would be great.”

With what precision Liam could muster in the suit, he wrote out a small message to the man’s daughter. In his heyday, Liam could sign autographs with ease. His suit wasn’t a hindrance in the slightest. Today, he was struggling through the motions. Just making the writing legible was proving to be a problem. Autographs were a skill he hadn’t practiced in months, and the chicken scratches on the shirt in front of him were proof of that.

When he finished his damage, Liam handed the shirt back, ready to apologize to the man. Only for the driver to not notice the horrid writing and turn to Liam, water in his eyes.

“Thank you so much. She will love this! I’ll be the best dad in the neighborhood.”

Taken back, it took Liam a moment to respond.

“It… it was a pleasure. Glad I could help.”

People had always looked happy when he gave them an autograph, but seeing it in the flesh again, left him flat footed.

“Make them pay,” the man continued.

Liam could only nod to the comment. He was here for a reason. He had to remember that.

The driver turned and returned to the car. Leaving Liam standing there, thinking about how such a small thing from him could have such a large impact on others.

The car took off, driving back into the chaos outside. Only this time, it would be an observer, not the center of attention. Liam turned and walked towards the disaster that was in front of him.

Before he got there, there were a few hoops he had to get through. The first was the door, with two guards looming on either side of it. They had to know who he was, or at least the threat his armour could pose, yet they didn’t budge. Trained as they were, they stood their ground against the metal man.

Reaching them, Liam handed over his documentation. The DCP credentials were near unbreakable and after a quick scan to confirm he was who he claimed to be, the guards parted. Waving him into the sanctuary inside.

Walking through the door, Liam entered an elevator. The small metal car shifted as his suit’s weight strained the cables holding it aloft. Once it settled, Liam hit the ground floor button. A bing and a quick ride later and he was there. Leaving Liam wishing this was one of the slow elevators. Wasn’t this a government building, how did they have efficient equipment?

The doors opened and Liam was overwhelmed by flashing bulbs. His helmet tinted the screen to counter the glare. Even with his system working to near perfection, Liam was left blinking away afterimages for a moment. The assault of lights leaving him reeling. Taking a moment to collect himself, the hallway came into view. Large windows made the luxurious space feel open, while the columns at the far end of the hall brought a regality to the space.

The press was there in force, ranks deep in their accustomed formation, a jumbled mess. It left Liam wondering how they could all get clear shots with everyone nudging each other out of the way. Maybe that was the secret to it, only the best images would sell, so those at the front tried to stop those behind them from getting anything usable? It was flimsy, but it was the best he’d ever been able to come up with.

“Source! How does it feel to be back?” a voice in the back called.

“Why are you wearing your suit?” another asked.

“Why are you here with everything happening at sea?”

“Should people be worried that two rookie Heroes are working the cruise line case?”

Liam ignored it all, half of what they were asking wasn’t even about today. The rest were things that would come out later. Walking out of the elevator, Liam turned away from the battery of bright lights and continued inside. A second security checkpoint, his bastion of safety, lay ahead. The empty hallways beyond a promise only it could provide.

“Are you part of The Watch now?” a voice from behind him called out.

For a moment Liam was tempted to reply. His better judgement pulled him back at the last moment. If he answered one question, the rest would demand the same treatment. It was best to continue ignoring the calls hailing him.

“Why aren’t you part of the main team?” a new voice took up the call.

“How involved is The Watch in your cases?”

Liam picked up his pace, the few people in front of him parted as he worked his way forward, until he was there. A wide eyed guard looking up from his chair at the man in armour who’d emerged from the crowd.

“Identification?” the guard asked. Despite his initial falter, the man was back to the pinnacle of professionalism in seconds.

As he had down stairs, Liam handed over his DCP papers. The guard looked through them with the eye of an expert. All the while, the crowd behind Liam continued to clamor. Before the guard signaled him forward.

Liam pressed forward, passing through a metal detector, the devices blaring an angry alarm. In his haste to escape, Liam hadn’t even thought about the thing. Stopping, Liam turned towards the guard. Even with his raised eyebrow hidden by his helmet, the man got the message Liam was sending.

“You can continue on,” the man said with a wave of the hand before turning to those queuing up at the threshold Liam just crossed.

Nodding, Liam turned and continued. His destination was clear from the cluster of people standing outside a pair of large oak doors at the far end of the hallway.

The plain wood obscured what was inside. Heading towards them, the people waiting there parted. The commotion at the elevator had been enough to draw their attention well before the armoured Hero was on them.

One man, stationed next to the door, pulled it open as Liam neared. Thanking the man, Liam walked through into the large room beyond.

The room reminded Liam of a church, with a few noticeable differences. The benches lining the center aisle were the same, only there was no tuffet to kneel on.

The stand to the right, where the choir should be, was also there, only it held twelve people seated in their workday best, not the vestments of the church.

Yet it wasn’t until you reached the head of the room that the minor inconsistencies became something indisputable. Resting at the front of the room, where the altar should stand, was a desk. A high-backed chair sitting behind it. On the desk was a gavel, dented with pride from the years of service it’d endured. A small stand stood next to the larger desk.

Liam moved into the room, the people inside turning to look at him. Whispers spread like wildfire through those there. Turning to his left, Liam spotted an empty seat near the wall and marched to it. The murmurs of noise nothing more than a caress to his suit as he shut them out.

It was a long few minutes before the crowd’s attention was drawn away from him. Pulled to another man as he entered. This one from a side door, armed guards surrounding him. Four deputies entered first, each carrying a shotgun. The cold metal cylinders leaving none confused at what they could do. Following that group was a masked man in familiar attire. Liam recognized the suit as what was worn by someone who’d failed to become a Hero.

Failing out of the program within the last two years didn’t mean they were without a job. While they couldn’t be a Hero, the DCP didn’t waste talent and had other opportunities available for them. Guarding those who normal means couldn’t contain was one of their primary tasks. It wasn’t the most glamorous job, but it wasn’t without its own perks. The steady schedule and pay being top amongst those.

Behind the Super was a man in a suit, his hands chained together, the highlight of the procession. Despite the sheer power the group brought with it, it was the man who stole people’s attention. Even though he was unmasked, there was an aura of power radiating from the man.

Around the man’s neck was a thick collar. One, even sitting at a distance as he was, Liam wouldn’t underestimate. The device’s plain design made its cruel work something no one could ignore.

After that man those who trailed behind mirrored those in front save for there were three Supers with the four deputies. Easily enough to stop anything but a full scale attack on the building.

The prisoner moved to a table at the front and sat down. A deputy hurried up and secured the man in the suit to the table. Handcuffs interlocking with a metal rod. The man moved with a purpose, one that once his task was complete left him to race back to the side of the room.

Another man in an immaculate suit sat next to the man chained to the table. Leaning over, the two had a whispered conversation. After a quick back and forth, the former turned to look behind himself. His eyes scanned the room until they found Laim’s armour. It was only for a moment, but the look carried something deep that Liam could only hope to understand.

While the man in the suit was looking back at Liam, the men who’d brought him in spread around the room. Ready to respond to what was shaping up to be an exciting day.

The room grew louder at the activity. People around the space talking to anyone who’d listen. It left Liam’s arrival, though energetic, as something of an afterthought. And while that would’ve been a great thing, it was the reason for it that dampened Liam’s mood.

“All rise for the Honorable Judge Jacobs,” a man at the front of the room said, breaking Liam’s thoughts.

With nothing resembling an organized group, everyone in the room stood. Watching as a man in a black robe strode into the room. The crowd only sitting when the judge had made it to his own chair.

Liam felt his heartbeat quicken. He’d have to sit up there, next to the judge, later. Giving a story that he wanted to forget. Yet something he couldn’t as it was part of the job.

“Your honor, if I may, my client would like to address the court before today’s proceedings.”

“Does this have any bearing with the case?” the judge asked as he pursued through papers in front of him.

“Yes.”

“Should I have the jury leave? If this is some ploy to win over a juror, I’ll be disappointed in you,” the judge said as he looked up at the lawyer.

“It won’t. But I think it’s best if he says it,” the lawyer said.

Liam watched on, his heart rate quickened as the judge thought over the request. The proceedings had only just started, and yet things were already going differently than he’d expected.

“Fine, let’s hear it. But keep things short and on point. Don’t make me regret this,” the judge conceded after a moment.

“Thank you, your honor,” H-Bar began as he stood. His chained hands preventing him from rising fully. His eyes wandered around the room, finally settling on Liam.

Liam looked at his former teammate. His eyes telling a story he could never hope to write down. Liam braced himself for a speech. Something to rally the people to the man’s side. Or at least against Liam.

“I’d like to change my plea,” H-Bar said. A wave of sound spread forth like a shock wave at the declaration.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” the judge asked. Sitting up in his chair as H-Bar now had his full attention. “If you go through with this, you can’t take it back later.”

A man, a few rows in front of Liam leaned forward, nearly falling off his seat as he strained to hear a response. The rest of the room took in a collective breath as they waited.

“Yes. I want to switch my plea to guilty.”

The room broke out in commotion. The sound of the gavel and the cries for order racing through the air. H-Bar and Source, two Heroes from a year ago, let all of that wash away. For this one last moment, it was just them. And Liam saw a glimmer of what he’d once seen inside his former friend.