"Wow, Sarah, did you see this?" Michael asked, putting the tablet onto the breakfast table and sliding it toward his pregnant wife. On the screen was the video everyone was losing their minds over.
The Homelander meltdown.
"Yes, Michael. You've only shown it to me about ten times already," Sarah sighed, not looking up from her own phone.
"I'm telling you, it's fucking amazing," Michael said, leaning in. "Being able to fly, shooting lasers out of your eyes... God, I wish I was a Supe. But more than that, I wish our little guy in there becomes a Supe. Someone as powerful as Homelander."
Sarah gave a small, tired smile putting her hand on her belly. "Maybe even more powerful."
"Let's keep it realistic," Michael muttered, his eyes drifting back to the screen. "What do you think happened?"
"Not again, Michael. Please."
"Just look at him," Michael continued, pointing at the grainy footage. "He was staring at the ocean like he was hunting something. You think he was lasering a Russian or a Chinese submarine? Has to be, right?"
"A submarine parking right off the city? Come on, Michael," she rolled her eyes. "Let's just wait for the Vought statement before you start World War III."
Michael checked his watch and stood up. "It's already starting. And whatever it was, he looked badass. Anyway, I'm running late. I gotta go, sweetie."
He grabbed his coat, leaned over to give her a quick kiss, and then pressed a lingerng one against her belly. "Be good for your mom, little supe."
He stepped out into the humid morning air. The street smelled like usual. He was power-walking toward the car, mentally rehearsing his excuse for being late to the site, when he saw the kid.
Just walking around. long golden uneven at his back as someone grabbed a part of it and ripped wearing wet rags that looked like they'd been fished out of the harbor, and looking completely pathetic.
Michael slowed down. I don't have time for this. Andrew's gonna kill me.
He looked at his watch, then back at the kid. I don't have time for this. Let it be somebody else's problem. He took another step toward his car, but then he thought of Sarah. He thought of his own son, still months away from the world, and his chest tightened.
"Hey, kid?" Michael said, stopping a few feet away. "You alright?"
The kid turned. "I'm good, mister. Just a bit lost. Do you know where I can find the police?"
"Oh my God, are you okay?" Michael moved closer. Now that the kid had turned, he could see a nasty bite mark on the boy's arm.
"Yeah," the kid said. "A dog bit me."
Fuck Andrew, Michael thought. "Come on, kid. Get in. Let's take you to the hospital. That dog could have rabies."
"Okay. Thank you, mister."
They both got into the car. As Michael started driving, the kid just sat there, staring into the bloody bite. If Michael's eyes weren't playing tricks on him, the wound seemed to be getting smaller.
"So, what's your name?"
"Aldrich."
"Aldrich. Unusual name," Michael said, trying to keep his eyes on the road. "So, Aldrich, where are your parents? What were you doing out there all alone?"
"Oh, I was just wondering how I can find out Supes' powers."
Michael chuckled. "Looking to pick a favorite hero? Well, that's easy. Just search it online. They have all their powers listed."
The kid turned to him, looking genuinely shocked. "They have their powers listed? All of them?"
"Well, yeah. Vought puts it all out there."
"I see."
Michael glanced over again, and this time he was sure. The wound on the kid's arm was fully closed. Not even a scar just blood.
"Interesting," Aldrich whispered. "No matter how hard I bite, it closes in ten seconds. That's why I couldn't get anyone to pick me up before."
Michael's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "What?"
"Oh, you humans and your 'what.' You're so slow." Aldrich looked at him, his blue eyes serene and calm. "Do you know that survival isn't just about being smart or strong? Sometimes, more importantly, it's about luck. And Lady Luck is a cruel and fickle mistress."
The car felt suddenly very small. Michael reached for the door handle, but his hand wouldn't move.
"Unfortunately for you," Aldrich said, his golden hair catching the morning light, "you have no brawn, no brain, and no luck today."