They were chanting the cruel name from the lawn. Some of the signs in the crowd read along the lines of “We love Mr. Might!”, Benjamin Jones’ alias, while others read “Power to Pajama Boy!” and the rare few peeked shyly upwards with a respectful, “Thank you for another year of service, Chance!”
Tobias bit his lip and clenched his fist. The tears boiled away over his red-hot cheeks as he glared up at Benjamin with his sternest, biting look. Then, he merely shook his head, and was calm. After so many years of enduring the man, Tobias had learned to level.
“And to think,” he said, smiling slightly, “I almost thought that things could be better.”
He raised his mug and pitched what was left of the steaming tea over Benjamin’s broad chest, startling the man into releasing him with a shout of surprise. While the revered hero blew on himself and flailed to bat the heat from his person, Tobias scowled and trudged inside, forcefully readjusting his robe.
Poppy Tris slapped her knees and keeled over with laughter. Her long blonde hair fell over her face, bouncing with each hiccupping gasp for air.
Tobias kicked her foot and snatched her unbitten cinnamon roll on his way past.
“Tobias!” Poppy Tris called after him. She snickered and snorted and keeled over again. “Tobias, come on! They love you as Pajama Boy! They think you’re cute! Don’t be such a stick in the mud, dude.”
Tobias kept walking, dragging his hand down his face. Down the stairs, across the hall, around the bar and the kitchen counter, and straight to the coffee machine. He shoved his emptied tea mug in place and turned it on. His fingers gripped the counter as he waited, listening to the machine’s quiet grinding, and drummed his fingers impatiently. He angrily stuffed his mouth with cinnamon roll, filling his cheeks so fully he could barely chew.
Poppy and Benjamin’s clumsy footsteps cascaded down the stairs and he struggled to swallow.
“Toby!” Benjamin called. “All right, don’t be mad. Come on, I’ll make you another cup of tea, and—”
“I don’t even drink tea!” Tobias cried, throwing up his hands. “We’ve lived in the same house for ten years, Benjamin, and you still don’t know that I don’t drink tea.”
“Really?” Benjamin leaned on the opposite counter. “You seem like a tea man.”
“What does that even mean?” Tobias spat. He pulled his mug out from the machine and stepped back to the fridge. “I have had coffee every single morning since I was nineteen years old. With milk, except for on the days where I am particularly distressed, when I take my coffee,” he reached into the fridge, “with cream.”
He poured cream into his mug, replaced the pitcher in the refrigerator, and stalked off to the table to sit with his drink and the remains of his cinnamon roll and Poppy Tris. She started to speak, but he quieted her with a bark of “don’t” and started to drink. There was not enough coffee in the world to wash away his scowl that morning.
After another few minutes, Benjamin sat next to him with a cup of tea, as unlike Tobias, he was a tea drinker. Unlike Benjamin, Tobias knew that his teammate drank tea every morning, and even knew that he received a new package of assorted and lovingly arranged teas weekly from an “anonymous sender”. Tobias was intuitive enough to know that the anonymous sender was the same every week and had worked out where the packages came from years ago, despite Benjamin’s secrecy about it.
The conversation at the table that morning is not worth mentioning. That morning, whenever the others started something, Tobias stopped it, because he was simply finished with their teasing and their disrespect and their teenager-like antics.
When the clock neared the chime of nine o’clock, Tobias drained his mug and Poppy Tris blew out a stick of incense. Tobias buttoned his shirt the rest of the way and brushed his fingers through his hair.
“Comms will come early today,” he announced, straightening primly in his chair. His eyes flicked upwards as he focused on his visions. “There’s a rescue.”
Benjamin blinked and knocked back the rest of his tea in one big swallow, as he always did before communications were received. He dried his lips. “Someone important?”
“Everyone is important, Benjamin.” Tobias concentrated on the ceiling. The images before his eyes were clear now. So many images, so many chances and possibilities. “You and I are suitable for the mission, but we should accept the replacement for Poppy.”
“Toby, man, what’s wrong with me?” Poppy protested.
“Absolutely nothing, Poppy. It’s just that—”
The screen hanging over the conference table flickered on. It filled blue, with the proud emblem of Benediction’s Higher Defense Headquarters flickering white in its center. The three heroes gazed upon it intently. The national anthem played softly, as it did every morning when their shift was bound to begin.
The Director appeared on screen, dressed in her stiff and decorated uniform, sitting at her control desk.
“Good morning, Defiance.”
“Good morning,” returned the team, each saluting with two fingers.
“We received a Code 26 just moments ago, from Hephaestus Hellfire, owner of the central lagoon volcano. It is due for eruption, but it is volatile. We’ll need Chance to keep an eye on its state while your mission runs.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Tobias nodded dutifully.
“Mr. Might will need to remove rubble from the volcano lair’s entrance, which from our drone intel, we know has collapsed. The governess of East Benediction has been tied up for ransom somewhere within. Get her out safely or the ransom will come from your paychecks. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Vine Voodoo, your abilities will not be useful in this mission. Your plants will not stand a chance against magma and lava, and it will take a great deal of stamina to attempt to conjure any on such barren land. We have a replacement lined up for you.”
“Thank you, Director,” Benjamin said, too quickly, “but we will be fine. We’re an excellent team and Poppy is an excellent fighter with or without her plants.”
Tobias and Poppy both swiveled to stare at Benjamin.
“Respectfully, Captain,” Tobias began tightly, “I advise that we should take the replacement this time. Volcanoes are not the right place to practice impulsive decisions. Particularly not this volcano.”
Benjamin dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “We don’t need the replacement. Our team will suit up now and meet the plane in ten.” He raised his two fingers. “Thank you, Director.”
Tobias, hand shaking, lifted his two fingers, and Poppy lifted hers, and the screen blinked out. Tobias stared at the table. He clenched his fists and turned to face the team’s captain. “I told you before she even came on that we should take the replacement. What exactly were you thinking?”
“We can do it,” Benjamin said, too cocky. “We’ve won top team in Central Benediction for five years in a row. A little hot lava won’t change that.”
“Tobias can be a drag sometimes, but he’s right,” Poppy winced, leaning her elbows on the table. Tobias rolled his eyes sourly. “This is heavy. Not that we can’t do it, but, uhh—far out, man—it is gonna be gnarly. If there’s even a chance of me killing my plants like that, I won’t conjure any.”
“That’s fine. You’ll have our backs and keep an eye out for ole Hellfire, then, yeah?”
Poppy sighed and cupped her chin. “Right on.”
Tobias shook and shook his head. He pressed his palm to his forehead. “I have nothing but bad feelings about this.”
“You always get butterflies before flying.” Benjamin rose and pulled Tobias’s chair back so that the man fell forward. Tobias flailed and caught himself on the table. “Go on and get changed, bud. We’re going to have another great mission today. You’ll see!”
Tobias swallowed and started towards the stairs. He gripped the back of his neck to suppress the tingling of his nape and flatten the raised hairs. Under his breath, he murmured what hung heavy on his heart, “I don’t think so.”
And he was right.
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