Ronnie wiped the sweat from his forehead and huffed to himself. The bus had been stuck in traffic for almost 20 minutes now, and for some reason, it was sweltering. He pulled out his phone and tapped out a message.

this suuuuuucks! should have taken a town car

Taran's reply was immediate.

sorry babe you're a civilian tonight no AI driver for you!

Ronnie scowled, annoyed that Taran was always right. All this easy access to Syndicate technology was beginning to spoil him. He shot off another text.

you and maya be careful tonight ok?

always am <3

Taran and Maya were heading out on one of their weird magic missions. Since recognizing the hellfire guy on television, Taran had become obsessed with trying to hunt him down. Weirdly enough, the stranger appeared to have skipped town. While Martin McCallister had made several other public appearances, his goth bodyguard was nowhere to be found. Even still, the plan was to scope out a few sites with magical items to see if anyone showed up. Ronnie tried not to dwell on it and desperately hoped that nothing scary would happen. At least Taran wouldn't be alone this time.

Another ten minutes had passed, and the bus still hadn't moved, much to the irritation of the other passengers. A bead of sweat trailed down the back of Ronnie's neck. Grumbling, he opened the group chat on his phone labeled "Super Friends."

WTF is going on with this traffic? i've been stuck on grand all night!

Lydia was the first to reply.

Oof. Big accident about a mile ahead, looks like something with a cement truck?

working tonight? gross

yeah, and it's boring AF so far…so I will be your personal sat feed. It doesn't look like you'll be moving for a while. :(

thanks, Lyd. Imma die on this bus RIP me!!

Another message came in. In true Ari fashion, it was exclusively in emojis: the surfer, followed by a bunch of question marks.

The realization sparked, and Ronnie cursed himself for being such an idiot. He may have been stuck in traffic and miles from home, but that didn't mean he was out of transportation options.

OMG ur brilliant! PLZ DONT TELL TARAN!!

Ronnie leapt from his seat and waved at the bus driver to open the back door. A welcome rush of cooler air greeted Ronnie as he hopped onto the pavement. He followed the street, sympathizing with the frustrated drivers who leaned on their horns in the standstill. They wouldn't be going anywhere for quite a while. When the sidewalk opened into a narrow alleyway, Ronnie peeled away from the street.

It was quieter between buildings, as the traffic sounds were immediately muted, replaced by the heavy rhythmic hum of air conditioners and fan vents. Sunset was just beginning and sent thick swatches of light down the length of the alley. Ronnie continued farther down until he was well away from the street. He studied his surroundings but found one around.

Satisfied that the coast was clear, Ronnie reached out his arm and brought up a low, flat construct. His feet sank securely into place as he stepped onto it. He had practiced in the gym a few times since his first experiments with Taran, the motions and his balance improving with every session. This, however, would be the first time flying in the open air.

After a few experimental zig-zags at the end of the alley, he was ready. Lifting both arms to his sides, Ronnie started on a steady ascent to the rooftops ten stories above. Popping up over the buildings afforded him a great view of the neighborhood, and the open-air was once again full of busy city sounds. He looked around for a familiar landmark, surprised at how different everything looked from this vantage point. Taking a moment to find his bearings, Ronnie traced a route in the air with this finger. With a deep breath, he was off.

The buildings zipped below him, and it took every shred of Ronnie's willpower not to shout with joy. This was amazing! The wind tore through his hair, and green light trailed behind him as he sailed over the neighborhood. Flying out in the open was so much different than the controlled environment of the gym. He had to account for little changes in the breeze, one moment at his back, the next buffeting against the broad side of his forcefield, making his stomach lurch. By shifting the construct's position, he found he could work with the wind for an easy boost of speed.

Much to Ronnie's relief, the people below seemed to pay him little attention. For the citizens of Liberty City, heroes flying overhead was an everyday occurrence. Other than an occasional glance or wave, no one was terribly concerned, nor did they recognize that he was someone new. "Which is great for me," he thought to himself. "Considering I barely know what I'm doing!"

He rose higher into the air, the sounds of the city falling away as he climbed. The currents were more stable farther away from the streets, and Ronnie found that he didn't have to work as hard to stay balanced. He ascended as high as he dared before hovering in place, taking in the sights and bobbing along with the air currents. He braved a peek over the edge of his board. Traffic dotted below, the cars shifting about like insects. Downtown loomed off to his left and eclipsed the red-gold sunset. Ronnie was surprised at just how calming it was, considering a mental projection was the only thing between him and a 500 foot plummet back to the ground. Somehow, he was certain that nothing terrible could happen up here.

"This is amazing!" He shouted into the wind. The way his words rang through the open sky made him whoop with excitement. Feeling cocky, Ronnie shot off again, pulling a tight corkscrew loop with his arms open wide. The adrenaline rush as he saw nothing but open air below him was incredible. This was absolute freedom.

As the sun sank lower into the horizon, purple streaks began to stretch across the sky and brought with them a chill to the air. Ronnie rubbed his arms with a shiver and knew it was time to head home. The remaining journey was peaceful, and he descended towards a park only a street away from his house.

Ronnie sighed, feet dropping onto solid ground. "That was unbelievable!" He thought, "I never want to take the city bus again!" The rush of emotions subsided on the jaunt home, replaced with hunger and a twinge of light-headedness. Taran was right again. Flying took a lot out of you. "Dad better be ready for dinner," Ronnie said to himself.

The house was dark and quiet as Ronnie snuck through the front door. For a moment, he was unsure if anyone was home, but a snore from the living room made him smile. He found Greg fast asleep in his recliner, a pile of pillows and blankets surrounding him. Ronnie's smile faltered. His father only slept in his chair overnight when he was in a lot of pain, which usually meant he needed extra help around the house. Ronnie hadn't been there in days. Why hadn't his father said anything, told him what was going on?

"Dad," he nudged Greg gently on the shoulder. "I'm home,"

His eyes fluttered open, "Oh, hiya, Ronnie. Must have dozed off," He made an effort to get up, which clearly pained him. "Let me get started on

dinner,"

"Absolutely not! I'll take care of that. You try to relax, ok?"

Ronnie stood over the stove, stirring some pasta and fighting the clouds that threatened his mood. "How long has Dad been like this?" He kept thinking. "I haven't seen it this bad in ages," It was impossible to not blame himself. Hadn't Ronnie promised his father that he'd come home whenever he could? Had it really been that long? Ronnie thought back to his last visit and tried to justify his absence. That training had been running long, and he didn't want to make the trip home so late. The truth needled at the back of his mind. He had been rushing back to Taran's place every night, playing house and shirking his responsibilities.

Greg hobbled into the kitchen to set the table, and Ronnie watched him from the corner of his eye. His face failing to hide the grimace with every other step, his movements slower and more careful than usual.

"Have you been doing your exercises?" Ronnie asked. Physical therapy kept his dad loose, the pain a little more manageable. He knew the answer. Wasn't he the one that always had to badger before they got done?

Greg waved him away and continued with his work. Ronnie sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to get anything more out of him. They sat down for dinner and ate in uncomfortable silence—the quiet unnerved Ronnie. Mealtimes were anything but stoic at the Nolan house as he and his father never lacked things to talk about. But it seemed tonight they had nothing to say to each other.

"How's work?" Greg spoke up, finally breaking the stillness.

"It's… been good!" Ronnie replied, putting on a bright face that he hoped masked his nerves. "I, uh, passed a couple of exams the other day, which is something I had been working hard on." That wasn't a lie, he supposed. He indeed passed two training drills earlier that week. Ronnie would just neglect to mention they were projectile tests for his goddamned superpowers. "Learning more and more every day. I also went volunteering with some coworkers. That was nice."

"That all sounds great, kiddo," Greg smiled. "Seems like you're making friends just fine."

"I am. You'd really like them, I think," The sudden realization that Greg would probably never meet his friends made Ronnie inexplicably sad. After all, how would he ever explain Ari's appearance, or how Carmen just happened to be the girl who sang that song Greg always got stuck in his head? He'd never believe they were just IT interns spending time together. "Oh, and that nice young man in the suit from earlier this summer?" He thought to himself, "I think I might be in love with him, but I'd be obliterated down to an atomic level if his parents ever found out!"

Dinner continued, with Greg asking more questions and Ronnie providing answers that left out all the exciting bits. All the while, he screamed the truth in his head, desperately wishing that there was some way he could say what was really going on.

But the charade seemed to work. Greg brightened as the meal went on and even had the energy to make them both a sundae for dessert. Perhaps this had been just a quick pain flare-up. It certainly would make Ronnie feel less shitty to know that his father hadn't been miserable and alone for too long.

Ronnie cleaned up dinner, and he and his father played cards at the table until Greg let out a massive yawn. "I better get to bed. Didn't sleep very well last night, and I'm beat."

"I figured. Think tonight will be better?"

"I think so. If nothin' else, I'll sleep better knowing you're safe under this roof."

Ronnie smiled. This felt like their old dynamic. "You promise to call me if it gets any worse?"

"Don't you worry about me, kiddo. Just focus on your work." He shuffled off to bed. "I'm proud of you."

Ronnie stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. Despite a full day of training and an exhilarating flight, he couldn't seem to fall asleep. He rolled over to check his phone. There were no messages from Taran since he and Maya left for patrol. Standard procedure, as only Syndicate communicators were allowed on duty. He sighed, knowing that Lydia would keep him informed if anything exciting happened.

The group chat blinked with a series of unread messages.

Did you do it???

There's no way. T would be so mad & ronnie doesnt want to sleep on the couch :P

I dunno. The sats picked up some crazy air activity on the west side…

OMG OMG REALLY ?!!?!!

Ronnie tapped back a message: a series of surfers and every crazy face he could think of. He clicked the phone off before the replies could roll in.

His thoughts drifted back to his father, and the now-familiar sense of guilt came crawling in. So many lies. Deep down, Ronnie was sure that if Greg only knew what was really going on, he would forgive the busy schedule and missed dinners. He understood that kind of duty and would respect it. Everything that had happened this summer and the distance he kept could all be explained away. If his father could see what he was truly capable of, he'd be blown away and so proud.

If only he could see Ronnie fly.