Two Idiots and a Cape: Ebony Blood

Chapter Four: Stress? I Hardly Know Her

Edward had left the hospital three days ago with nothing but a few bruises and a bump on the head, much to Micheal's relief. He still felt guilty about what happened, even though Ed had called him a moron for doing so. He couldn't help but think that he should have been able to stop the gang responsible sooner– when he'd first heard about the robberies. It didn't need to make sense; it was just how he felt. That said, he and Edward had been working to track the three strange people down, keeping in contact with Detective Amari, but their efforts bore no fruit. It was as though the masked gang had vanished into thin air, and Mike was left with a feeling of foreboding.

"So you haven't found anything? At all?" Carla asked, popping a grape into her mouth. Mike shook his head.

"Nope. Nothing. I don't get it! They've been causing so much trouble, and yet no one can seem to find them." Carla hummed. She'd arrived yesterday to check on Ed and shoot the bull with them both, and Mike was happy to be able to sit and speak with her because he was at a loss on what to do. 

"Well, the detective mentioned that they'd never attacked a hero, right? Maybe they got scared off after what happened with Ed. I mean, the guy literally set's things on fire for fun. Not that I'd be scared." Mike snorted.

"You wouldn't be scared because you know he's terrified of you." She smirked.

"Exactly." He considered what she said. It made sense and was plausible, but somehow he doubted it was that simple. Still, he shook his head and decided to turn their conversation to something lighter.

"How's the parlor been? Should you have left it so soon to come visit?" 

"It's been going well, and I'm not worried about it. I got Maggy holding down the fort, and she gives the best tattoos, second only to me. Besides, we're the only half-decent place to get a tat in a ten-mile radius. I think we'll be fine." Carla had opened up her tattoo parlor a little over eight months ago in her hometown neighborhood in the suburbs, and business had been booming. Mike was beyond happy for her. "Besides," She said suddenly, interrupting his train of thought. "You two boneheads are important to me. When you go and run yourself into the ground, and then Ed lands himself in the hospital, you actually expect me not to visit?" 

Mike smirked. "Heh, right. Silly me."

"Damn straight. When is Pam supposed to get here?" 

"Friday. She's bringing Squishy with her. Ed's over the moon." He chuckled. Carla gave him a look over the top of her mug, sipping on her water.

"I bet... He's been asking, hasn't he?" Mike fidgeted in his chair. Damn, he'd been hoping to avoid this.

"Uh, I mean– Yes. He has." Carla looked at him expectantly.

"And?"

"I'm not ready for kids, Carla. I mean, look at me! I can barely handle being a hero as it is. How am I supposed to be a hero and a dad? And I can't retire yet, either. Ed just keeps bringing it up..." 

"Well, have you told him any of this?" Mike gulped.

"Well–" 

Carla threw her hands up. "You haven't! Why am I not surprised. You fucking idiot; Talk to him! He's your husband; he'll understand if you're not ready." Mike sighed and nodded.

"I know. I know. I– I will, ok? I just need the right time. I don't want him to think I don't want any ever. I just need him to know that I don't want any... now." 

"Don't want any what?" Edward asked, locking the front door behind him. 

"Don't want any... Soup! I don't feel like soup. Today. For dinner. Tonight." Carla rolled her eyes, waving to Ed. Edward waved back, quirking a brow at his husband.

"Oookay~? Well, good thing I was planning on making lasagna tonight then." Mike nodded, lips pursed.

"Yup! Good thing, cause otherwise, you'd have made soup, and then I would have felt bad because I wouldn't have eaten any of it because I don't feel like any, so you'd have worked hard on it for nothing– Hey, did we lock the window in the bedroom? I'm going to go check, be right back." With that, Mike stood up and exited the kitchen, leaving a confused Edward and disgruntled Carla in his wake.

"What was that about?" Edward asked, eyes wide. Carla had half a mind to tell him but ultimately decided it wasn't her place. She shrugged. 

"Can't say. Maybe you should talk to him about it later, though. Alone." Edward frowned, brows furrowed, but didn't comment. Carla observed him as he moved around the kitchen, making coffee, noting the slight droop of his left eyelid and the thin lines under his eyes and on his forehead. 

"You good?" She asked. Edward turned to her, surprised.

"Huh? Yeah, course, why wouldn't I be?" 

"Well, you did just get out of the hospital–"

"For a little booboo." 

"And the love of your life up there ran himself ragged, not to mention the whole villain-to-hero transition. There's been a lot." Edward stared at her. Finally, his shoulders slumped, and he sat, sagging.

"Yeah... There has been. I dunno. I'm just tired and a little stressed, and I have a headache. Don't worry; the doc said that would be normal. And now these masked freaks are running around the city that no one can even find!" Carla watched him bury his face in his hands, reaching out to pat his elbow awkwardly. Man, Pam was way better at this stuff than her. 

"It'll be ok. They can't hide forever." Ed smiled gratefully.

"Yeah. Right."

On a dark street a few blocks away, a young girl sits quietly at a bus stop, legs kicking as she fiddled with a little pink purse shaped like the head of a cat. Her short black hair was pinned back on the right side, held in place with a butterfly clip. She hummed to herself quietly as she waited for the bus to arrive. She pulled out a newspaper clipping from the bag, using a tiny finger to trace over a picture of NightHawk and Antennes that had been taken as they announced Antennes was becoming a hero. They could; she knew they could! They were hero's, after all, and that was their job. They stopped bad people and scared away the monsters. She shivered as the bus pulled up, the doors opening wide. She hated monsters.