Chapter 1: learn to forget it, and look ahead in the future again
Chapter Text
Crash.
Rek groaned as he ever-so-slowly slid down the wall he had run directly into in his haste to get to bed.
He heard giggling from the room across the hall, and he scowled.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Leo. You couldn't learn any better than I did.”
Leo went out of the doorway to the kitchen with a grin. Rek rolled his eyes good-naturedly, reaching up with his hand to grasp the one Leo offered down to him.
“Come on, lighten up, Rek, I have good news!”
Rek raised an eyebrow. “If you're about to tell me about the pros and cons different arrow types have again, you know I'll listen, you don't have to sugarcoat it.”
Leo’s grin seemed to get impossibly bigger. “Nope! We’ve got a lead on how to get your little friend out of his tough spot. Now come on, they're waiting for us in the-”
Leo cut off with a yelp as Rek grabbed his hand and took off out the door.
“Hey, wait! I didn't even tell you where we're going yet!”
“-and you could've gotten that little boy injured, and then how would that look? Honestly, this is why we only send you four – or, sorry, five, out as cleanup or PR. Do you understand what you've done wrong?”
Jaron kept his eyes glued to the floor. “Yes, my lady.” He murmured along with the four other members of his team, the Kids In The Corner, or KITC.
From the corner of his eye, he could see Branzy's jaw clench, and 4c and Cube looked more unhappy than usual. Mid still looks as impassive as ever.
Jaron internally frowned. What business do any of them have being upset with their Lady? She was just doing what was best for them, for the world – it's wrong. It's wrong, it is. Lady is kind. She is caring. Everything she does makes them, makes him, better.
He should tell on them. Lady doesn't know them well enough (she never tried to) to see the clear disobedience and wrongness of their attitudes. He should tell her.
… but he won't. He doesn't really want to – he'll just count the punishment for his disobedience the next time he gets punished when he's convinced to sneak into the kitchen past curfew.
Again.
“Oh, let it snow, let it snow, let it snooooow.”
Jumper hummed along cheerfully as she refilled the showcase donuts, soft fairy lights shining above her head.
The bell above the door rang quietly, just as she popped back up above the counter. A genuine smile graced her face as she saw who walked in, the man giving her a grin back.
“Hey, Ash!” She chirped, untying the knotted apron behind her head.
“Hey, Jumper. Quick question, why the fuck are you playing Christmas music in September?”
She sent him a smirk. “My shift, my music, and I say it's that time of year.”
He stared in horror. “Wh- no, no, no, are you fucking crazy? It is not Christmas time, it's not even Halloween yet – no, just – get the fuck out, your shift is over, I'm firing you.”
She laughed, hanging up her pink apron next to Minute’s plain black and Pentar’s red, covered with stickers some regular probably gave him, grabbing for Ash’s weirdly pattern purple one.
“Here, catch. Oh, and you can't fire me, we own the bakery together.”
He caught it gracefully (he almost dropped it twice) and rolled his eyes.
“Whatever, go do whatever you do when you get off work.”
She knocked at him and hopped over the counter, careful not to knock anything off (Pentar).
She was almost out the door when Ash called out to her one last time.
“Hey, by the way, have you heard from Minute?”
The blaring of sirens got louder and louder.
“Timekeeper, freeze! In the name of the law and the HCC, you are under arrest for vigilantism and petty crimes! Come out with your –”
Timekeeper is pretty sure he keeps talking after that – cops and heroes never shut up – but he was already gone, a hand swiped across a grandfather clock inside some poor soul's house and world tilted and twisted around him.
He blinked, shaking his head. God, he'll never get used to that. He glances around, taking in the giant gears, springs, screws, and everything else that makes clocks tick.
“Where is it, where is it…” he mutters, forgetting for just a moment that anybody outside can, in fact, hear him talking. He takes a glance outside and deducted that, unless the stupid giant hand is blocking his pursuers, nobody is out there.
He rips his eyes away and focuses again on looking for just the right – oh, look, there's the door. He rushes over and ever-so-slowly (seriously, grandfather clocks are like so heavy) pushes it open, revealing a series of hallways filled with doors, little address signs hanging above them.
Any man will get lost within three seconds if they don't know what they're doing.
Fortunately for Timekeeper, he does!
He takes off at a fast run, taking turns as if he's got a built-in GPS. Left, right, left, left, right, left, keep going straight, right, left, left, double back because you're stupid, left, enter here and pick your poison, baby, which clock are you picking this time?
He picks the clock hanging right above the bakery door and peaks past the hand (they're so annoying) to check for customers.
All he sees is a brown-and-purple haired boy and a brown haired girl, the latter with her hand on the door and head turned towards the boy.
“ – heard from Minute?”
The girl blinks, tilting her head. “Nope, he hasn't texted me since last night, why?”
The boy shrugs. “No reason, really, he's just supposed to be here in five–”
Just then, Timekeeper pops right out of his clock, right between them.
They scream. He screams back.
The girl tackles him to the floor. A pocket watch falls onto the floor and cracks its glass.
Oh, for fucks sake –
4c slams the door behind him, storming past Squiddo and popping face first on the couch. He wants to punch something.
A spring flies up and cuts his face.
He's going to scream.
Distantly, through the fog of rage and tiredness (and something that feels like guilt) he registers Cube talking softly with Squiddo, most likely about how the day had gone.
Clearly, it had gone well.
4c felt a tap on his shoulder, sighing and rolling over. Cube was crouched down to his level, Squiddo standing behind him with a small, reassuring smile.
“Hey there, 4c,” Squiddo chirped, “You’re looking cheerful!”
“No, he's not, why are you lying right now, he looks depres-”
Cube was cut off by a pillow slamming into his face, falling backwards with a streak.
Squiddo and 4c burst into laughter, 4c already feeling worlds better than he had just moments ago.
As he locked eyes with a grinning Squiddo, he felt a guilt seeping in. He sighed.
“Sorry for bursting in, Squids. Just a long, long day.”
She grins brightly at him. “No problemo, man! If I had to deal with your lady or whatever you call her, I'd be in jail!”
They both laughed, and 4c sighed back down on the couch, relieved that everything was okay with them.
Just as they were winding down, Cube popped his head through the kitchen door (when had he even left???) and shouted that dinner was ready.
Squiddo popped up, reaching down for 4c to take her hand.
“Come on, let's go taste Cubes radioactive spaghetti.”
“Hey! I didn't even make spaghetti, you –”
Light reflects off objects, but never in the dark. What is there to reflect? Light does not exist in the shadows.
Somehow, Prince still manages to have light reflecting off his crown.
It is so fucking annoying.
Seriously, how is he doing that? Did he take a college elective on how to be the most obnoxious motherfucker in the room? And people say he’s got attitude issues, seriously, at least he knows the art of a good stealth mission.
Mapicc rolled his eyes to himself, grumbling silently as he dropped down behind Prince, landing in a crouch.
Prince whirled around and suddenly his world went pure white.
Mapicc had heard about Prince’s powers, from his teammates and enemies alike- they whispered tales of blinding lights and powerful whirls of pure sun, but no story could compare to seeing it for yourself.
For a second, he even thought he was dead.
As soon as it started, it was over, and Mapicc was left with his head spinning and an afterimage that could blind him all over again.
Prince opened his mouth to talk, but Mapicc held up a hand in the universal one fucking moment sign (an open palm that turns into a middle finger), blinking rapidly until he gets to the point where he can kind of see.
He shakes his head one more time, bringing his annoyed eyes up to glare at Prince, who shifted guiltily.
“Uhm, sorry, Hypnos, you scared me.”
Mapicc glared one more time. God, Prince’s outfit matched his stupid crown and stupid power, gold jewelry and fancy suit to match his obnoxious attitude. But whatever, he has negotiations to do, if he fucks it up Ro’ll never let him do anything alone ever again.
“It’s whatever, man,” he grumbled, “Not like I need my eyes to see or anything.”
Prince laughed nervously, fiddling with his fingers.
“Yeah, uhm, hah, uhm. So, anyways, uhm– sorry, scatterbrained, you know?”
Mapicc raised an eyebrow. This is the guy who went out of his way to contact the two of them to talk? Mapicc shouldn’t even be here, he doesn’t even want to be here, but Ro’s word is apparently law now, so now he has to listen to a dumbass stutter for at least the next ten minutes, in which he has a viable reason to say he doesn’t have time for this and run away.
He’s very much looking forward to running away.
“Dude, get to the point, I have shit to do.”
“Right! Right, sorry. So…bear with me, here, don’t– don’t freak out and start cursing at me, or– or something, okay? Okay, okay. So, you know how, like- the Hero Commission Company is…doing things now, right?”
Mapicc rolled his shoulders and shrugged. “Yeah, yeah. We’re all very much aware that they’re overlords who control your lot or whatever. Your point?”
Prince scrunched his face up and reached up to fiddle with a small silver charm necklace around his neck, the only silver piece he seemed to have on him, with some weird looking reptile and a sword charm hanging down.
“Uhm, not– not exactly? Well, yes exactly, they are…uhm, controlling, but not in just, like, where we live and who we’re with– not anymore. They’ve gotten…uhm, worse, I guess. Yeah, worse.”
“Dude, are you gonna tell me anything or are you just planning on repeating yourself a bunch of times?”
“I– I am, okay, I just– listen, okay? I know we’re not– we as in you and I, not, like, heroes and villains or whatever, I know we’re not exactly friends. I mean, we’re not enemies or anything, but– listen, I’m just gonna say it. I want to join your team.”
Mapicc choked on air. What. He wants to what?
“You– you’re kidding, right?”
Prince frowns, rolling his shoulders back and standing taller than Mapicc had seen him the entire time they’d been talking. He couldn’t see his face, but his eyes were visible. There was a fire inside them, a fire he hadn’t seen in anyone since– well, since he had looked himself in the mirror the day after his father died.
“I’m sick of it, I’m sick of them, and I want myself back. I don’t want to be Prince anymore, I just want to be me. Me in all my fucked up, distrusting, stuttering mess I call glory. I’m done being a lapdog, being punished for doing nothing wrong, for standing tall and perfect while the people who are supposed to hold me up shoot bullets at the back of my knees like they have a bow and I’m a target. I’m done, Hypnos, and even if you and Hecate don’t accept me, I’m not going to stop searching for somebody who will, for somebody willing to just help me try to stop the HCC.”
Prince was panting now, at the end of his little speech, staring at Mapicc like he was both his only hope and his killer.
Mapicc would like to say it’s a hard decision, but, well, he was always just that much more impulsive than Ro, so, it was actually pretty easy.
“...alright, fuck it, why not? Now, tell me everything."
Chapter 2: how come I have to break to keep us workin'?
Notes:
i forgot to say last time updates will be unorganized or whatever the word is, if you know me you know that i mostly write on paper when i'm supposed to be locked in at school so building up motivation to translate it to computer issss a lot and THEN i have to edit and add details i was too lazy to add on paper and yadda yadda yadda i don't owe you shit so i'm not sticking to a schedule that'll stress me out okay thanks!!
enjoy the chapter!! i'm not....a HUGE fan...but that's okay! we're all learning.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Minute sighed as the bakery bell jingled loudly above his head, noise ringing in his ears. He had been telling Jumper and Ash for weeks to just get a new one, that their current one was way too loud, but they just kept brushing him off and telling him that it was just him.
Whatever, he’s right, he could probably just order one and put it up on his next solo shift.
Pentar, his annoying, no-good, impulsive little brother ran out of the back, a look of pure relief on his face.
“Dude, oh my god, thank god you’re here!”
“...what the heck did you do, dude?”
“Wh– why do you immediately assume I did something! For all you know it could be Jumper’s fault!”
Minute raised his eyebrow at his brother, watching him deflate and realize that, actually, the likelihood of it being Jumper’s fault, of all people, was low. Very low, considering the idiots Minute works with.
Pentar huffed, pouting dramatically.
“Well, whatever. I’m not even gonna tell you anymore, now you have to go figure out what’s wrong with the coffee machine all on your own.”
Minute blinked. “We sell coffee?”
“Dude, what?” Pentar asked incredulously, “Yes, we sell coffee– bro, you’ve worked here for three years, how do you not know we sell coffee?”
“Well– well nobody’s ever asked me to make them coffee!”
“Not a single customer has asked for a coffee in three years?”
“No!”
“Bro, what?”
“Because nobody goes into a bakery named Four Corners Foods for coffee, Pentar!”
“Well clearly they do, because I’ve had like five people ask a day!”
“Were you hallucinating all of them?”
“No, I wasn’t hallucinating, Minute! You literally can’t be serious–”
A pointed cough broke them out of their argument, both snapping their heads over to the door, where they had somehow missed the bell ringing when the customers– two boys, one with a pale purple hair color that would probably look ugly on anybody else, and one with brown hair with these sick-looking red highlights –walked in. Oops.
Instantly, Minute had a customer-service smile plastered on his face.
“Hello, welcome to Four Corners! Sorry about that, what can we get you today?” He asked, shoving Pentar– who was still wearing his apron –behind the counter, ignoring the crash that resulted from his tripping over his own feet.
A purple-haired one giggled, brown-hair smirking up at his friend before his eyes snapped up to meet Minute’s.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever bro,” he began, voice higher than Minute expected, “Can I just get one of those sugar cookies I keep hearing about?”
“Of course! One sugar cookie, coming right up– would you like anything else?”
Brown hair shook his head, which purple hair clearly took offense to, whipping his head around to glare at his companion.
“What if I did want something, huh? You don’t know!”
“Wh– dude, you hate sweets and bakery foods! Last time I brought you one home, you ranted about how I should know that and not waste money on things like that, Mapicc! I listened to you yell at me for, like, an hour!”
“That’s not the point! The point is that you didn’t even ask me!”
“Fine! Would you like anything?”
“As a matter of fact, I do!”
“Okay, what do you want, then?”
“...Uhm.”
“Dude!”
Minute was the one who had to cough pointedly this time– he figured if he didn’t stop them they could go on forever, and he was already getting a headache –getting a sheepish grin from purple hair and a scowl from the other one.
Which, rude, he had done it first.
“Uh, no, sorry man…”
Brown hair turned his glare to purple hair– wow he really needs their names, it’s getting annoying –and rolled his eyes before looking back at Minute.
“Sorry, my friend is an asshole. Just the cookie.”
“Awesome, awesome, that’ll be $4.56.”
“For a cookie?”
Pentar popped through the backdoor, cookie in hand. “Yes. For a cookie. Which you should be able to tell without asking, considering it’s the only thing you bought.”
Purple hair furrowed his eyebrows. “I can’t tell if you’re being a dick or not.”
“Ro, he’s obviously being a dick.”
“Shut the hell up, Mapicc, it’s not my fault I don’t automatically think the worst of people.”
Minute felt his eye twitch. Could they not buy a cookie without arguing? Like, they could’ve been out of his bakery five minutes ago at this point. Glancing over at Pentar, he could see that he wasn’t exactly alone in his thoughts.
“Could you please just pay, and like– take this outside, maybe?” Minute asked, internally begging that they would just leave already.
Mapicc threw a five dollar bill, snatched the cookie, and turned out the door with Ro in one fluid motion.
The door slammed behind them, the two not even bothering to close it quietly.
For a moment, the bakery was silent.
“...If I ever see them getting mugged on patrol I’m not helping them.”
“Oh my God, Pentar.”
Reality felt her bones rattle in her body as she landed hard on the ground, almost falling if it wasn’t for Matrix reaching out quickly to steady her, before taking off in a run.
Outrage’s voice crackled in her ear, screeching at Timekeeper for something or another– she didn’t know (or particularly care), so she minimized his voice quickly before she took off running behind Matrix.
She could hear the heavy footsteps of heroes pounding behind them, quickly digging through her mind for something to throw at them.
Of all nights to have a boring dream, it had to be the one before the most interesting of days she’s had in months.
She ripped her thoughts from her own head, reaching out towards their pursuers to pry in their nightmares. She had to find something, Matrix was too weak to glitch them both out, and neither of them have enough stamina to outrun anyone– though, they are faster, for the record.
She could faintly feel Matrix grabbing her arm to keep her running, separating her mind and body and diving deep into the brain of the nearest hero, floating through the poutine brainstem until she found what she was looking for.
She floated inside the amygdala, fear and nervousness churning all around her until she found the memory drive, tucked safely away where nobody would ever look for it.
Besides her, that is.
She ripped open the clasp, sorting through nightmare after nightmare until she spotted just the right one, gripping onto it tight and dragging it back to the real world with it in her hands, opening her eyes with a gasp. She glanced down at her hand, now swirling with pink glowing wisps, screams and pure terror leaking out.
She threw it back towards the heroes without a second thought, grinning at the screams that erupted. It was terribly frightening.
An ugly looking thing, really, with multiple limbs and chainsaws for teeth (which it had rows of, for the record), who– apparently –spits fire and roars louder than that damn bell in New York. Whoever's mind she got that from is either seriously fucked up in a weird way or seriously fucked up in a PTSD way (she didn’t particularly care either way).
Matrix let out a loud laugh ahead of her, still dragging her along– not that she needed it, seeing as time passed so much slower than it had for her –and she ripped her arm from his grasp with a playful grin, running ahead of him.
She heard him shout from behind her, though she couldn't quite catch what he was saying.
Suddenly, the world seemed to glitch in front of her, Matrix appearing out of the glitch. She could feel his smug grin from behind him, but all she could do was laugh freely.
Because what is freer than running from law enforcement after you throw a ten-foot tall nightmare monster at them?
“--and honestly, if Matrix doesn't ask out his lover-girl soon, I'm gonna do it for him, with how often she's over and how annoying they're getting and they’re so oblivious it's horrible. Like, how do you not see how you look at each other, he literally gets so giggly it’s disgusting, like actually disgusting, she told him once– I think you were there, actually –that she was going to kill his parents violently and he looked like he was going to kiss her, how do you look like you’re going to kiss somebody after they tell you they’re murdering your parents every night when they dream, like, huh?”
Timekeeper nodded along absent-mindedly with Outrage as he scanned the city, sitting on a rooftop and leaning on the heels of his palms.
Outrage sat just in front of him, slumped forwards as his legs dangled and his hands, both with heavy brass knuckles adorning them, gesturing wildly.
Timekeeper had a feeling that if his own black hair fell out from its braid, Outrage would get his hands all tied up, probably to the point of almost smacking him in the face before he noticed.
How unobservant he was was just a testament to how boring patrol is.
Seriously, in the last four hours, the most interesting thing to happen was Outrage almost falling off the roof.
Timekeeper would take a cat stuck in a tree, at this point.
Thump.
Outrage went silent as they both whipped their heads around, scanning the rooftops around them.
That was a footstep, one against metal.
Outrage stood carefully, drawing his red hood over his short brown hair (still holding the ridiculously bright pink heart clips Reality had put on him whilst trying not to giggle too loudly as he slept) and maximizing his voice in their comms.
Timekeeper followed behind him, one hand on a golden pocket watch (one of the many adorning his costume) and holding a handgun steadily.
Voices rose from the room below as they carefully peered down at the rickety old fire escape hanging off the roofside they climbed to get up. There was a soft yellow light shining through the top floor window that wasn't there before, illuminating the rusted metal.
The two vigilantes glanced at each other, Timekeeper once again wishing he could read his brother without words as well as Reality could.
Outrage shrugged and jumped down silently, quickly ducking below the window.
They both froze and held their breath, relaxing slightly when the muffled conversation continued without pause.
Outreach fumbled in his pockets before pulling out a tiny little recording device, tossing it up to Timekeepr, who didn't fumble with it.
When Outrage stopped trying not to laugh (for no reason, nothing funny even happened), he made a go on gesture towards Timekeeper.
He furrowed out his eyebrows and made a confused face (not that Outrage could see his face through the thin black cloth, decorated with pearls Reality had insisted she add covering it), getting the feeling that Outrage was rolling his eyes at him.
Outrage shrunk lower beneath the window, putting his hand over his mouth to muffle his voice.
"Get inside that clock and record if you need to, you dumb fuck.”
Timekeeper rolled his eyes back at him and dropped the pocket watch still in his hand to the floor, waving a hand over the glass and whisking his body and soul away.
Outrage was bored. Like, he could still hear the muffled conversation from where he had moved back up to the roof to guard timekeepers's little watch thing, but it's not like he could actually hear any words.
Not like he could while he was underneath the window.
He didn't even know what to think.
He's still unsure about who was talking (he thinks he heard Distortion, but he couldn't have, Distortion had died, Derapchu told him Distortion was dead, he–).
Outrage held back a surprise scream as Timekeeper all but leapt out of the little watch sitting on the rooftop floor, stumbling and breathing heavy.
Timekeeper swept down to pick it up with shaking hands, and Outrage could see his wide white eyes from behind his mask (which had slipped down somehow to show his eyes. How had he let it do that? Timekeeper never let that happen, what's going on what's going on what's-)
"…You okay, Keeper? You’re, like, shaking, bro.” He whispered, keeping his voice quiet.
"Pentar,” Timekeeper said, and wasn't that a shock? Never once in all three years they've patrolled together had Timekeeper ever called him his real name. Ever.
“Pentar,” he said again, “We need to go. Now. You need to hear this.”
And call Pentar anything, but when Minutetech tells you to go, no matter what you are, you go.
Notes:
how do we feeeeeel let's be honest
oh and you probably won't get a pb&j update for a few chapters! oh, the reader pain of a multi-pov fic, huh? don't worry, i'm not a horrible person, who says you won't get some context in the coming chapters? stay tuunnnned!!
also i have got some SERIOUSSS problems i can't stop watching couriway! and nerdi (love him so much) just announced a new speedrunner event thing! i'm too mcsr pilled!
as always, i love comments more than anything and they really give me motivation to actually write!!! please feel free to leave super long ones, as well, those are ALWAYS my favorites to see, ignore anybody who says long comments are annoying!!
okay i'll stop yapping now see you sooner than last time!!
that was a lie chapter title from bigger person by lauren spencer smith it's on my playlist 6 times maybe more go have a listen okay bye bye fr this time
Wind_Mills on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Sep 2025 04:46AM UTC
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Last Edited Fri 12 Sep 2025 07:15PM UTC
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