Archive of Our Own ^beta

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 It’s a late summer night in Municiberg, California; crickets are chirping loudly while fireflies briefly flicker with a soft glow. A blanket of darkness overshadows the city, casting itself over buildings, skyscrapers, and the suburban neighborhoods in the surrounding area. Dim city lights illuminate the streets with a dingy yellow; dull in comparison to the speckles of stars twinkling above. Citizens lay in their beds undisturbed, slumbering the night away with dreams and plans for the next day — well, most of them anyway. Elodie Cane is among the few townies still wide awake, lounging on her couch in her studio apartment. She’s skimming over the sprawled out books and papers littered around her living room floor, reviewing material detailing the “Golden Days” of Superheroes. Long forgotten stories of a long forgotten era.

 What was once believed to be a work of pure fiction became a reality when the public became aware of ‘Supers,’ A.K.A. Superheroes, in the early to mid 1940s. The Supers were a small subset of people who had been born with special abilities ranging from super strength, the power of flight, pyrokinesis — so on and so forth. Those who believed their abilities could be useful to society started out working in positions varying from nursing to scientific research before they eventually graduated to full blown heroism. Superheroism to be more specific. 

 The Supers could stop crime and apprehend criminals quickly and efficiently, frequently coordinating with law enforcement to put the perpetrators behind bars. Their penchant for heroics won over the public in only a matter of months; adoring fans would scream their names whenever they passed by, desperate for an autograph from their favorite Super. Children idolized them, claiming they were going to be just as heroic as they were when they grew up. Politicians vouched for them, fully in support of the cause and positive image the Supers promoted. It seemed the world had high hopes for the Supers, but unfortunately, those high hopes quickly fizzled out. 

 The Supers fell under scrutiny after a variety of incidents caused by crime fighting led to constant property damage and recklessly endangered citizens. Funding to provide support for the damages dwindled fast and the cities affected struggled to keep up with the costly destruction. Government officials were forced to step in and formulate the NSA, the National Supers Agency, in order to keep tabs on and regulate Superhero activity. This seemed to have no effect on the public’s opinion, however, and an incident involving a foiled suicide attempt and an accidental monorail bombing was all it took for the public to call for action against the Supers.

 A multitude of citizens sued the Supers for emotional and physical damages, upholding the belief that they would be better off if Supers weren’t around at all. Moreover, disgruntled citizens weren’t the only ones to question the Supers’ integrity; political officials wildly debated the necessity of Superheroes, wondering if keeping them around was causing more harm than good. Were they helping anyone? Or were they simply destroying the cities they claimed to protect?

 Heated discussions filled the court rooms for weeks, with officials unable to come to an agreement on what the appropriate consequences for the Supers should be. That’s when the government introduced the Super Relocation Act; the Act proposed to illegalize and effectively ban Supers from continuing hero-work or using their powers in public. The Act also necessitated that the Supers were to be discreetly relocated with new identities and live out the rest of their lives in anonymity. The Supers who agreed to the Act were granted amnesty from further prosecution, and by the mid to late 1950s, most, if not all, Supers had hung up their capes and taken off their masks, understanding that their glory days were long over. 

 It was less than a decade for the Supers to make a brief return, rejoining the crime fighting scene in the early 1960s. Iconic heroes from the Golden Days emerged back into the spotlight, joined by a set of new heroes by their side. The Supers revitalized the hope they had once left in their stead, but by the time the 1980s rolled around, the existence of superpowered individuals began to dwindle. With no one left to replace them, the remaining Supers continued their heroic duties until they were forced to retire, whether it be due to old age or losing the abilities that once made them more than capable of fighting crime. By unfortunate circumstance, the Supers became a story of the past — but not to Nicholas Cane, Elodie’s grandpa.

 Ever since Elodie was a little girl, her grandpa had always talked of men and women dressed in obnoxiously colored costumes and tights, swooping in to save the day. More specifically, he always made sure to mention a time that he, too, had been saved by a Super when he was just a boy. After that encounter, he said that it changed his perspective on Supers and the work they stood for. He believed Supers were the next step in progressing into the New Age; the next step to help make the world a better place. He saw them as a symbol of hope, and he carried that hope well into his life before he passed away a little over four years ago. 

 That’s the whole reason Elodie moved across the country in the first place — she wanted to come to her grandfather’s home state and home town to write the book she’s always dreamed of writing. She wants to write a book about Supers, and what better way to do that than by living in their old crime fighting playground? With her book, she hopes to bring the Supers back to the public’s eye and prove that the world needs them. The state of the world today is vastly different from the one the Supers had once protected; it’s rampant with crime and unexpected violence is seemingly at every turn, and it’s apparent the world needs saving now more than ever. At least, that’s how Elodie sees it. She not only wishes for the return of Supers, but she hopes the public will feel the same after she gets this book published.

 Unfortunately, there’s only so much information about the Supers of the past that spoke of them in a positive manner. It was hard for her to research anything that didn’t have a negative political or personal viewpoint, much less anything that explicitly described the heroic endeavors her grandpa always rambled on and on about. She managed to collect a few copies of old news clippings, screenshots of old, grainy television footage, and a small variety of books that specifically talk about ‘The Fall of Superheroes,’ but none of them mention the positivity they used to spread. How is she supposed to remind people of what once was without proof of what the Supers stood for, much less that they actually existed?

 A frustrated sigh falls from her lips, stumped by the stall in her progress. She glances over to the side table and taps her phone screen. It lights up to tell her it’s 11:53 PM, and she purses her lips. It’s getting late; she should probably put her research on pause for now so she can go to bed. Having a fresh perspective after a good night’s rest might help her, and the thought makes her reluctantly turn in. She grabs her phone off of the side table and gets up from the couch, careful not to scatter any paperwork and add to the mess she’s already generated. She tiptoes around the piles of papers and open books, and once she’s out of the mine field of research, she makes her way towards her bedroom. She pushes the door open before gently closing it behind her. 

 She walks over to her dresser and puts her phone on the top surface to dig around in the drawers. She pulls out something comfortable and nudges the drawer closed with her hip before changing her clothes. She retrieves her phone from the dresser and slides it into the pocket of her shorts, then slides underneath her warm blankets.

 Elodie relaxes into the mattress and makes herself comfy, but her mind is still running wild with thoughts of the Supers from the “Golden Days.” She wishes she knew more about them; it would really help her get a better perspective for her book. If only she could meet them in person and interview them herself — wouldn’t that be something? 

 The thoughts of the Supers drift into her dreams as her eyes grow heavy, and she falls into a deep sleep.

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 Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock!

 The incessant knocking pulls her out of her deep sleep, and a groan slips from her lips at the interruption. ‘Who is that?’ She thinks, rolling away from the direction of the knocking. ‘And what do they want first thing in the morning?’ She pulls the pillow from underneath her head to place it over her head, hoping to drown out the annoying intrusion. Maybe if she ignores them long enough they’ll go away. The knocks seem to stop for a brief moment before a chipper voice calls out from the other side of the door, “Housekeeping!”

 Elodie immediately furrows her brows and opens her eyes. Since when has anyone ever come to do any housekeeping at her apartment? She can barely afford her rent, much less pay anyone to clean the place. She throws the pillow off of her head, and as soon as her eyes make contact with the room around her she sits up in an instant. Her heart starts to pound as she realizes she’s not in her room anymore — she’s not even in her own apartment for Christ’s sake. She appears to be in what she can only assume is a hotel room. A completely unfamiliar hotel room. 

‘What the fuck? Where the hell am I? I wasn’t trafficked, was I? Oh, God — ’ She quickly glances down at her person, and she breathes a sigh of relief when she sees that she’s fully clothed and still wearing the same set from the night before. At least she’s safe in that regard, but it still doesn’t explain her being in a hotel room. How did she get here? What exactly is going on? She feels around for her glasses in the bed, finding them hiding under the blankets. Thankfully, they didn’t get bent out of shape while she was sleeping. She forgot she had been wearing them when she went to bed. Oops…

 Knock, knock, knock!

 “Housekeeping!” The voice calls again, and she clears her throat. “Uh, come back later, please!” She replies, sliding on her glasses. 

 “Okay! Be back later then!” The housekeeper says, and Elodie doesn’t hear anymore knocking after that. She relaxes against the pillows on the bed, taking in the decor of the room. The wallpaper is extremely outdated; it’s a bright orange detailed with white and red accents, and it gives off a kind of fifties or sixties vibe. The curtains and furniture aren’t too far off from giving the same vintage feel, and she can’t help but wonder what kind of place would still be decorated with such an outdated style. Is it some kind of attraction spot? Or is it —

 HONK!

 Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a car horn, loudly blaring at what she can only assume is another disgruntled driver. The sound draws her towards the windows, and she climbs out of the bed to take a peek at the outside world. When she gets a glimpse of the outside, she feels like the air has just been ripped right out of her lungs. The city has changed drastically; it’s as if the world has gone back in time and the buildings have reverted back to their original state. It looks as if the city had just been built yesterday, and the streets are the cleanest she’s ever seen them. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen a city or a town this clean in her whole life. Has she entered some kind of alternate dimension? Or has she gone back in time? No, no, that doesn’t make any sense. Time travel isn’t possible — at least not that she’s aware of. Even if it were, why would she of all people travel back in time? What does she have to do with the past?

 ‘Pull yourself together, Elodie.’ She mentally tells herself. ‘There’s no such thing as time travel. There has to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for how you’ve ended up here. Hopefully.’

 She searches around the room to find some shoes to wear, intent on getting out of here and searching the area. Her eyes land on a pair of slippers on the side of the bed, and she walks over to slide her feet into them. They’re not as good as a pair of tennis shoes, but they’ll have to do it for now. She slips them on and walks towards the door, keeping her hand on the handle before she remembers to search her person. She pauses to feel around in her pockets, and she pulls her phone out of her left pocket. She presses the power button, and she frowns when the screen remains blank. It’s dead.

 ‘Well, that’s just great.’ She grumbles in annoyance, sliding her phone back into her pocket. She glances around the room one last time, and the frown on her face only seems to grow when she doesn’t see a charging cord plugged in anywhere. ‘Shit. No charger.’ What is she supposed to do now? How is she supposed to call for help? Does she even know where the police station is in this town? She’s just going to have to find out on her own. She takes a deep breath and opens the door to step outside. She closes the door behind her and walks out to see that she’s on the second floor, and she heads towards a nearby set of stairs to reach ground level. Once she reaches the bottom, she takes a good look around the city.

 The city is bustling with activity; cars like the streets with traffic, and citizens crowd the sidewalks, in a hurry to get to their next destination. As she observes closer, she notices that the attire of the citizens crowding the walkways are just as dated as the wallpaper and furniture of the hotel room she was in. Has she really traveled back in time? Or has everyone started a new fashion trend that she doesn’t know of? She almost loses herself in thought before a blood curdling scream cuts through the air behind her.

 Elodie whips her head around towards the gut wrenching sound, and she looks up in surprise to see what looks like a giant robot emerging from behind a skyscraper. No, that can’t be right. Since when are there giant robots in California? Is this a normal occurrence? She wouldn’t know; she didn’t grow up here like her grandpa did. She drops her train of thought when she notices that the robot is coming closer, and when she peers up to the top of the mechanical nightmare, she can see someone remotely controlling the mecha. What is going on? What kind of madness has she gotten herself into? How did she end up in a hotel and a robot terrorized city in less than twenty four hours? She won’t know the answer standing around, that’s for sure, so she starts running in the same direction as the other panicked citizens. She can feel the ground rumble beneath her feet, and she staggers as she runs away. She doesn’t make it very far when she’s forced to stop in her tracks; halted by the grip of a robotic hand wrapping around her waist.

 Gasp.

 “AAAAAHHHHH!!!!!”

 A scream like something out of a horror movie emits from her throat as she’s yanked from the ground and pulled directly into the air. The asphalt beneath her feet stretches farther and farther away as a jolt of adrenaline surges through her veins. ‘Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God — ’ She panics, instinctively curling her fingers around the metal arm grasping her waist. She can feel her stomach rise and fall with the motion as she’s raised higher and higher into the air; eyes wide with utter terror when she finds herself overseeing the city. The people below her look like ants in comparison, and even with her glasses, Elodie can barely make them out running away in fear. Her own panic seems to amplify when maniacal laughter bellows out from the robot, and the sound bounces off of the nearby buildings and skyscrapers. It’s loud enough that Elodie reaches up to cover her ears, but she retracts her hands to grab hold of the metal arm again, afraid that if she lets go she’ll fall. As if the robotic hand letting her go wouldn’t end with the same result.

 “Bow down to the one and only Baron Von Ruthless!” The villain operating the machinery announces, and he follows up his introduction with more evil laughter. The movement of the robot combined with being so high in the air makes Elodie sick, and her stomach gurgles with nausea. She feels like she fell right into a comic book scenario — an evil villain terrorizes the city, kidnaps a few citizens, and a superhero swoops in to save the day. The only problem with that is she has yet to see said superhero put a stop to this madness, and she hopes that if there are any Supers around, they get here as soon as possible. She has a feeling she’s going to hurl.

 That’s when she catches a glimpse of something flash across the sky; icy crystals suddenly form to create a pathway of solid ice, and a man in a white and cyan patterned suit flies across the pathway to shoot sharp blasts of ice at the robot. The giant mecha staggers backwards upon impact, but it recovers quickly from the barrage of attacks. Baron Von Ruthless lets out an amused laugh, “Ha! Is that all you got? How insulting.” He spits, and the speaker crackles from the volume of his voice. “I expected more from you, Frozone!”

 “You expect too much!” The hero known as Frozone quips, firing a few more icy blasts in the robot’s direction. This only results in Baron maneuvering the machine’s arms to swing at the Super, and Elodie lets out another horrified scream as she flies from side to side.

 “AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”

 The moment Elodie’s scream hits Frozone’s ears, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He shoots a look in her direction and grits his teeth when he spots the young woman clutched between metal fingers. ‘Damnit.’ He curses to himself. Why hadn’t he noticed her before? Was she not already screaming when he got here? He isn’t sure, but now isn’t the time to play twenty questions with himself. He’s got to put a stop to Baron’s robotic rampage before anyone else gets hurt, including the woman trapped in the mechanical nightmare’s grasp, and he’s going to need help.

 As if on cue, a man dressed in a black and blue costume appears out of the blue to join the standoff. From what Elodie can see, the man is tall and bulky, and he’s currently running towards the robot at an unnatural speed. She’s almost positive she can hear his heavy footsteps thudding against the asphalt as he runs towards the commotion. The costume clad man calls out to Frozone from below as he closes in, “Frozone! What did I miss?” He laughs; a laugh so casual it’s as if he’d just walked in on a group of friends watching a ball game instead of a giant robot battle. 

 “You arrived just in time, Mr. Incredible!” Frozone yells down to him, “I need your help getting that citizen free!”

 Mr. Incredible whips his head in Elodie’s direction, and after a few moments of observation, he concludes that taking the robot down with sheer force would result in the captured woman getting hurt — or worse. Not only that, but they have to come up with a plan that won’t involve damaging the city more than Baron Von Ruthless already has. Mr. Incredible’s eyes fall down to the robot’s feet, and he quirks a brow at the rigid steps they take. He may or may not have an idea, but he’s going to need Frozone to play his part if it has any chance of working.

 “Hey, Fro!”

 “Yeah?!”

 “You feel like making some popsicles?!”

 It takes a moment for the icy hero to catch onto Mr. Incredible’s idea, and once he realizes what the Super is implying, a sly grin spreads across his face.

 “You know it!” He muses, then makes his way to the surface below. He follows through with the first part of what he assumes is Mr. Incredible’s plan by aiming at the robot’s feet and coating them with a layer of ice, adding layer after layer to freeze the giant mecha in place. This only enrages Baron Von Ruthless, and he retaliates by stomping at the ice generated at his creation’s feet. 

 “Your feeble attempts won’t stop me!” He guffaws, and he motions his open robotic hand to slam down on the pavement below. Mr. Incredible quickly catches it before it can make contact with the streets below, inadvertently saving the road’s inhabitants from suffering what would have been devastation. He tightens his grip and starts to pull on the mechanical arm to distract the mad scientist, intent on keeping his hold until his ice cold partner builds a mound of ice and snow big enough to engulf the mecha’s feet. Baron tries to fight off Mr. Incredible’s firm grasp, but as he fights to regain control of the arm he inevitably loses control of his mechanical legs. Every lever he tries to pull or button he tries to push leaves him frozen in place, and he lets out a shriek of anger. “How dare you! Do you not fear my fury?!” He snarls, “I will crush you like the puny Supers you are!”

 “Not today, you won’t!” Mr. Incredible remarks, but Baron lets out a sinister laugh when he remembers his hostage. “Well, if I can’t crush you, I’ll just have to crush this little lady!” He howls with laughter as he raises Elodie into the air, as if preparing to throw her, and her eyes grow wide as her heart falls into the pit of her stomach and straight out of her ass. 

 Fuck. She’s going to die, isn’t she?

 She immediately tries to break free from the robot’s grip, her desperation pulling at the tips of its metal fingers. Her pathetic attempts prove to be useless, and she takes a deep breath to scream as she’s thrown forward. She soars through the city at an immense speed; past the buildings and businesses towards her impending death. She can see the face of a building coming close and fast, and she closes her eyes when she realizes that this is really it. This is the day that she dies. She always assumed that she would die of old age like most people, but it seems she’s going to go out by becoming a human pancake. At least, that’s what she thought was going to happen until her body comes in contact with something solid — but it’s not the glass and concrete she was expecting. 

 She opens her eyes and readjusts her glasses to see a man holding her bridal style, looking down at her with a satisfied expression. He has a swoop of thick, golden blonde hair, paired with a set of green eyes that seem to glow the longer she stares at them. They’re hidden behind a mask meant to hide his true identity, but it fails to hide his sharp nose and square jaw, both qualities of (what she believes to be) an attractive man. Her attraction quickly moves away from him and to the city below, and she squeals as she grabs a hold of her savior’s neck.

 ‘Too high. Way too high.’ She thinks, shuddering at the idea of falling to her death. As if she didn’t just survive a near death experience moments ago.

 “Hey, it’s okay. I got you.” The blonde coos, but his words don’t bring her any comfort. She was just taken hostage by a giant robot and almost smashed to smithereens — and that’s the least of her problems. She still has to figure out how the hell she went back eighty years into the past, but right now she needs to focus on her controllables. Hopefully she can control getting the Super to put her down on the ground. “Will you just put me down, please?” She begs, and he quirks a brow at her demeanor. Usually women are quick to fawn over him and give thanks for saving them, but this woman is different. Does she not find him attractive? Is she not thankful he saved her?

 ‘No, that can’t be it.’ He denies the very idea, too vain to entertain the motion. ‘The poor dame must be in shock or something — yeah, that’s what it is.’ He tells himself before promptly following through with her request.

 As the Super lowers her to the ground, Elodie can hear girlish screams and screeches getting louder and louder beneath them. She looks down and realizes that’s because there’s a crowd of teenage girls and young women forming below them, calling out for the Super with sheer excitement.

 “Gamma Jack! Gamma Jack!”

 “You mean Handsome Jack!”

 “Oh, Handsome Jack, will you save me next?”

 “Gamma Jack! Will you sign this for me?”

 Their ecstatic screams make her glance back up at the hero named Gamma Jack, and he gives her a questioning look as if to ask her if she’s okay. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the chance to voice his concerns before the girl he just saved gets lost in the crowd of shrieking fans. Girls and women alike push her away to get close to him, itching to brush their fingers against his navy blue suit or his flowing yellow cape. He tries to locate Elodie in the crowd, but all the attractive and beautiful faces distract him. 

 “Ladies, ladies — there’s plenty of me to go around.” He chuckles, glancing from pretty face to pretty face to locate the one he just rescued. Where did she go? Doesn’t she at least want to thank him? Or is she not as grateful as he thought? He brushes it off to give the crowd his full attention, waving at them and flashing his winning smile. Several of the attendees in the swarm of fans squeal and faint from the simple gesture, while others giggle with flustered faces. 

 Elodie is flustered, too, but not in the way those other women are. She makes it out of the loud gathering to regain her composure, and she quickly feels around her person to make sure she isn’t hurt. She doesn’t feel like anything is broken or sprained, and it doesn’t look like she has any bruising. She’s lucky to be alive, much less unscathed, and she inhales and exhales to come down from the high of her adrenaline. Once she calms down, she realizes that the slippers she had put on before leaving the hotel are gone, and she’s back to her socks again. ‘Oh, awesome.’ She sighs. She reaches into her pocket to check on her phone, and she feels a wave of relief when she touches the familiar shape. Miraculously, it wasn’t damaged or lost in the encounter with that villain, but the battery is still dead. Even if she manages to find out how to charge it, she’s pretty certain she won’t be able to reach anybody. Cell phone towers don’t even exist yet, and she doesn’t have a clue who she would call even if she could.

 Her parents aren’t in the picture anymore after they died in a tragic drunk driving accident several years ago. She was only nineteen at the time, and without her grandpa’s support she doesn’t think she would’ve made it through the worst of her grief. Her grandpa’s passing, however, left her with no immediate family. Elodie’s grandmother died from cancer when she was a little girl, and her grandpa never remarried after that. Just like Elodie, her father was an only child, and her mother grew up in foster care with no known siblings or relatives. So as far as Elodie knows, she’s completely on her own with this one.

 As she lets out a sigh and puts her phone away, she’s approached by the other two Supers who helped take down the giant robot. The hero known as Frozone descends down a pathway of ice until he lands directly in front of her, and the Super Frozone identified as Mr. Incredible jogs up a few seconds later. Mr. Incredible’s size outshines in comparison to her own; he’s tall and muscular, and if she had to guess she would say his biceps are almost as big as her head. He could probably crush her if he wanted to, but considering he just went out of his way to save her she doesn’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon. Besides, now that she can see him up close, his towering figure isn’t as threatening as she originally perceived. He has golden blonde hair in a clean, slick back style, bright blue eyes that sparkle with a friendly gleam, and a charming smile that forms dimples at the corners of his mouth. She can only assume he’s just as handsome underneath the mask as that Gamma Jack guy, but she doesn’t pay him anymore mind when Frozone speaks up.

 “Are you okay, Miss?”

 Although Elodie can’t see Frozone’s face from under his visor, she can hear the worry in his town. His concern makes her awkwardly clear her throat, “Y-Yeah. I’m fine. Just shaken up is all.” She murmurs. “I’m thankful you got here when you did.” She says, making a point to mention her appreciation. They did save her life after all. Er, well, sort of.

 “Well, it’s no problem at all, ma’am.” Mr. Incredible states, giving her a small salute with his middle and index finger. “Do you need us to escort you to the station? I’m sure the police have some questions for you about the attack today.”

 Elodie has to stop herself from frowning after he says this; while she has no problem giving her witness account, what is she supposed to do once she’s escorted to the police station, questioned, and released? She has no money, no identification, no family, and nowhere to go. Anxiety trickles down her neck as she tries to weigh her options, and she swallows thickly as her body gets hot with worry. What is she supposed to do? She chews the inside of her lower lip as she tries to come up with an answer, but she has nothing. Nada. Zilch. Her eyes flick back up to the Super duo in front of her, and she suddenly remembers a piece of advice her grandpa had given her years before.

 “Whenever you’re in doubt, ask a Super for help. They’ll know what to do.” He would say.

 This tidbit of information never came to use her back in the present, but it seems it’s coming of use now. A slight smile pulls at her lips, now feeling better about the situation now that she has a plan. Sort of.

 “Actually,” She says, “I think I might need your help.”

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 “What exactly do you need our help with?”

 Elodie awkwardly fumbles with the hem of her shirt after Frozone asks her this; how does she put this? How is she going to explain to these Supers that she went back in time? How does she explain how it happened? Even she doesn’t know how it happened, but she has to take a chance if she has any means of getting back home. “Well, I know this is going to sound silly, but…” She doesn't want to come out and say it, too embarrassed by the idea of them laughing at her, but she’s going to have to tell them if she wants their help. “I’m from the future, and I — ”

 “Bahahhahaaha!!!” Mr. Incredible bursts into a fit of laughter before she can even finish her sentence, and she deflates with embarrassment, subconsciously gripping the hem of her shirt tighter. She knew someone was going to laugh at her, but she thought she could at least spit out an explanation before being cut off at the start. Her sheepish expression makes Frozone slap Mr. Incredible on the chest, and he gives him a serious look as if to tell him that now isn’t the time for laughs. Mr. Incredible immediately stops laughing and discreetly clears his throat to save face, “Uh, sorry. Please, continue.” 

 “It’s okay. I expected that.” She says, following it up with an awkward laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I’m not trying to sound crazy, but I’m telling the truth, I promise.”

 “How do we know that?” Frozone questions, and Elodie pauses for a moment. How is she supposed to prove that she’s from the future? Her phone is no good, so what else is there? She wonders if her family name might mean anything since her grandpa grew up in the area. It’s worth a shot. “My grandpa grew up around here, but I don’t know where he used to live. His name is Nicholas Cane, if that means anything.”

 The Super instantly recalls the name that the young woman mentions; that’s the son of Tim Cane — Head of Security at the NSA. Tim’s son usually comes by the Agency’s headquarters to say hello to the Supers, especially Mr. Incredible as he’s a huge fan of his. He can see the little boy in the young woman’s face, and it’s enough for him to somewhat believe her story. Frozone glances over at his partner, “That’s Tim’s boy.”

 Mr. Incredible raises his brows in surprise, “You’re related to Tim’s son?” He takes in her facial features before noticing the resemblance, and a grin spreads across his lips. “I can see Little Nicky and Tim in her.” He remarks, playfully nudging his friend's arm. 

 ‘‘Tim’s boy?’ ‘Little Nicky?’’ Elodie quirks a brow. ‘Since when was Grandpa so acquainted with Supers?’ She already knew he was enthusiastic about them, but he never mentioned personally knowing any of them. He never said anything about her great grandpa Tim being involved with Supers, either. The only thing he ever said about her great grandpa Tim was that he was a serious and hardworking man, and he worked hard to provide and set an example for his family. Unfortunately, his efforts often left him absent from home and from his family, her grandpa had said. “He could only love me in the way that he knew how, which meant I was never going to get his love in the way that I wanted.” He told her, “He was a tough man, but I loved and respected him, and he loved and respected me. He just didn’t know how to show it.” 

 She shakes off the memory and pulls herself back to the conversation. “You know my grandpa?”

 Mr. Incredible chuckles, “He’s not exactly a grandpa, but yes, we know him. Sweet kid. Do you want us to take you to him?”

 “I don’t think he’s gonna know who I am right now. He’s just a kid.” She replies, and he scratches the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed that he hadn’t considered that. “Right…I didn’t think of that.”

 “Do you have any idea how you might’ve traveled back in time? And how far back did you go?” Frozone presses. Her clothes definitely aren’t from this time, that’s for sure. Although he likes the look of it, he doesn’t recognize the design of her shirt. He isn’t sure he could even find something like that around here, much less anywhere else. Plus, her thick accent tells him she’s not from around here; if he had to guess, he would say she was from Texas or Tennessee, but that doesn’t mean much when they’re talking about time travel.

 Elodie doesn’t have a clue how it happened; one minute she’s going to bed in the future, and the next she’s waking up in the past. That’s about as plain and clear as she can put it. She shrugs. “I really don’t know. When I went to bed last night the year was twenty twenty-six, and then poof — I’m waking up in the past. I don’t even know what year it is, but I know I’m nowhere near my time.” She frowns. It’s true, she doesn’t have a single clue what year it is. It’s not like she had enough time to figure it out before she was briefly kidnapped and sent flying to her death, but with the little evidence she could go off of she could only assume it was around the 1950s or 1960s based on the decor and style of the hotel room she woke up in. When she was saved by the Supers, however, she changed her assumption to an earlier time period. Historically, Supers were banned and made illegal in 1947, so she thought it must be sometime before then. Frozone only solidifies her theory when he informs her of the actual year she’s traveled back to. 

 “It’s nineteen forty-six.” He tells her, “You traveled back eighty years! I can’t believe it.”

 “What’s it like in the future?” Mr. Incredible quizzes, “Do I ever get my own cartoon? Oh, that would be so cool.” 

 “Er…” She starts, but she stops herself before she answers anything else further. She isn’t sure if it’s a good idea to go into the details of the future considering she already feels uncomfortable telling them that she’s from the future in the first place. Who knows what might happen? She could inadvertently set a tragic event in motion or cause someone to use that information to change the future, and even if their intentions were good or bad, she can’t risk that. Some things happen for a reason, and she can’t let something like that slip. She only wants to find out how she traveled to the past and find out how to get back to her present. Luckily for her, Frozone cuts in to save her from having to quench Mr. Incredible’s curiosity. 

 “I think we should get in touch with Dicker.” He states, and Mr. Incredible gives him a look of skepticism. “You think he’ll believe her?”

 “Don’t you?” Frozone asks, “She doesn’t seem like she’s lying.” He says, talking about her as if she isn’t standing right there. 

 Mr. Incredible purses his lips, giving his friend’s suggestion some thought. He knows they’re not supposed to bring civilians back to headquarters under any circumstances, but this is a special situation that Dicker would be better off handling personally. Agent Richard “Rick” Dicker is a government agent of the NSA, overseeing the Superheroes that save civilians and fight crime in the surrounding cities. He’s incredibly blunt and tells it how it is, but Mr. Incredible likes that about him. He gets the point across and gets the job done, so he’s probably the best person to help with the young woman’s dilemma. 

 “I agree.” He nods, “I think we should hold off on letting the police question her for now, and we’ll see what Dicker says first.”

 “Alright.” Frozone motions for the watch on his wrist, “I’ll call him now.”

…

 It takes less than half an hour for police to arrive on scene, and a black sedan containing a small group of NSA Agents, including Agent Dicker, aren’t too far behind. Agent Dicker exits the vehicle with an emotionless expression, as if Supervillain and Superhero fights are an everyday occurrence. They usually are, in his eyes. He approaches Frozone, Mr. Incredible, and Elodie on the street curb. The Incredibile, a vehicle specifically designed and provided by the NSA for Mr. Incredible, is parked on the curb. The passenger side door is open, and Elodie is sitting in the seat, arms crossed as she leans against the frame of the car door. She perks up as a man in a dark gray suit walks up to them; when he gets close, she quickly observes his features. He has a large nose, tired and dull blue eyes, and short, dark hair with speckles of early grays. He looks to be around his mid to late forties, and his appearance makes her realize who this is. This must be the “Dicker” Mr. Incredible and Frozone mentioned. He gives off an intimidating demeanor, but she has to push away her intimidation to remind herself that this man is probably her best bet at getting back home.

 “I assume you’re the young lady who needs our help?” He looks directly at her, and she nods. “Yes, sir.” She stands up from her seat, “Though, I’m not entirely sure if you can.”

 “My associates here didn’t go into any detail, so maybe you can enlighten me.” He states, “What’s the problem?”

 “I, uh,” She starts, trying to find a better way to explain herself. She dreads the idea of repeating the same conversation from earlier, afraid he’ll laugh at her just as Mr. Incredible had. She knows he didn’t mean anything by it, but that doesn’t mean it was any less embarrassing. She clears her throat, “I’m, uh, from the future, sir.” She forces the words out again, internally cringing as she repeats them. “Somehow in the night I traveled to the past, and I don’t know how or why — all I know is that I need your help getting back home.”

 “And how do you think that?”

 “She says she’s related to Tim.” Mr. Incredible interjects, and Dicker furrows his brows at the interruption. He wasn’t asking him, but the statement caught his attention nonetheless. This young lady not only claims she’s from the future, but she also claims she’s related to the Head of Security at the NSA, Timothy Cane. She looks enough like him for her claim to hold some merit to it, but time travel? She must have some sense to realize how ridiculous her statement sounds. He decides to put the time travel topic on hold for now; that can be a conversation for another time. If he’s going by what Mr. Incredible said, his main concern is that she would mention Tim by name, much less approach a couple of the city’s most popular Supers for help. How is she related to Tim, and how did she know to ask for help from the two Supers? How did she know they were associated with Tim? It could just be a coincidence, but that’s not good enough. He needs direct answers, not theories or guesses.

 “Related to Tim, huh?” The older man repeats, “How so?”

 “He’s my great grandpa. Nicholas Cane is my grandpa.” Elodie answers, and Dicker nods. That makes sense; she looks like she favors Nicholas more than she favors Tim, but that doesn’t mean he automatically believes her. He’s going to need more information than that. Her thick accent doesn’t sound like she’s from the area — far from it, actually — and he wants to know how she could be tied to the Canes. If she’s telling the truth, that is. “What’s your name, young lady?”

 “Elodie Cane, sir.”

 “Do you have any identification on you?”

 “I don’t.” She frowns. “I woke up in a random hotel with no ID or any money. I was lucky enough just to have my glasses.” She says, a hint of sarcasm layered in her tone.

 “Hm.” Dicker hums in thought, thinking over all that she’s told him. Most people would laugh her off and send her away, or they’d have her admitted to an asylum. Fortunately for her, he’s not most people. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the pickle, haven’t you?”

 “I have.” She cracks a small smile, but it doesn’t last for long. “I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, so that’s why I asked for their help.” She gestures towards the two Supers, “After they finished with the robot, of course.”

 “How did you know to ask for their help?” Dicker inquires.

 “My grandpa always told me if I was ever in doubt to ask a Super for help.” She elaborates, “I just figured it made sense to.”

 “Smart advice.” Mr. Incredible comments, and Dicker clears his throat, as if to tell him to keep quiet. He doesn’t need the unnecessary commentary. “Miss Cane, would you mind accompanying me back to our headquarters so I can ask you some more questions?” He asks, “I’d like to know more about your situation before I look into finding out how to help you.”

 A wave of relief comes crashing over her, and she can feel her stomach flutter with a sense of hope. She’s right on track to getting back home, and she’ll answer whatever questions he has as long as he’ll help her. She gives him an eager nod, already ready to go. “Yes, sir.” She agrees, “Anything you need.”

 “Very well.” He says, then turns and motions for her to follow him. “Come with me.” He orders, and she quickly gives Frozone and Mr. Incredible a small wave goodbye. “Thank you, again.”

 “No problem. We’re just doing our job.” Frozone smiles, waving her goodbye as she walks off with Dicker.

 “See you around!” Mr. Incredible announces, and as the two depart, Dicker looks over at her. He first noticed that she was down to her socks when he walked up to the trio, and it bothers him that she’s been forced to walk around with no shoes since this morning. “I’ll get someone to get you some shoes. I’m sure it’s not comfortable walking about in your socks like that. What size do you wear?”

 “It’s not.” She lightly laughs. “I’m a size nine.” She responds, and there’s a smile that lingers on her lips still. “I really appreciate you for doing that, and for helping me.”

 Dicker blinks at her for a moment, then looks straight ahead again as they step towards the black sedan. The driver is already waiting for them, holding open the back passenger door. “No need to thank me, kid.” He says, “I haven’t helped you just yet.” 

 He gestures for her to have a seat, and she promptly gets into the car with Dicker climbing in behind her. The driver closes the back passenger side door, walks around to get in the driver’s side, and starts the car to pull away from the area. 

…

 As Elodie and Dicker pull away, a familiar navy blue and bright yellow come into view. Mr. Incredible greets the Super with a friendly disposition, “Gamma Jack!” He exclaims.

 “Mr. Incredible!” Gamma Jack matches his fellow Super’s enthusiasm as he greets him back. “Frozone!” He adds, and Frozone throws a hand up to give him their personal handshake. “Gamma J! Where have you been, my man? You missed all the action with Baron Von Ruthless.”

 “I was around.” The masked blonde grins, thinking back to the crowd of fans that gathered around him not that long ago. The group ultimately dispersed after the police required him to vacate the premises, which led him to seek out his costume-clad brethren. “Caught a flying dame a little while ago. Did you happen to lose one in the fight with Von Ruthless?” 

 “Yeah, we did, actually.” Mr. Incredible says. “She just left with Dicker before you showed up.”

 “She left with Dicker? What for?” Gamma Jack furrows his brows, wondering why a man so adamant about following rules was breaking the one he enforced the most. Why did he take a civilian with him? That could only mean he either plans on erasing her mind or there’s more to the young woman he saved. Come to think of it, there was something off about her, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it exactly was. It could have something to do with the fact that she was totally ungrateful for what he did. Yes, that’s it.

 “You’re not gonna believe this, but she said she was from the future.” Mr. Incredible giggles, and Gamma Jack has to stifle a laugh when he hears this. She said she was from the future? Ha! How laughable! At least, that’s what he thinks at first, but then he recalls the way she looked and acted towards him again. It was like she didn’t know him or who he is, and now that he gives it some thought, it makes sense that she wouldn’t know him if she’s from the future. If that wasn’t enough for him to consider the possibility, he did notice her strange taste in clothes. He thought it was some kind of fashion statement or self expression — young women are doing a lot more of that these days — but now it sort of makes sense. His rationality, on the other hand, pushes away the idea of time travel being real, and he grins in amusement before poking fun.

 “You’re kidding, right? Did she lose her marbles before or after I saved her?”

 “I don’t know. She didn’t seem like she was making it up.” Frozone purses his lips, “I think she’s telling the truth. I don’t know why, I just get that vibe from her.”

 “Seriously, Fro? You really believe that nonsense?” Gamma Jack makes a face, and Frozone shrugs. “Hey, rag on me all you want, man. I know what I’m talking about.”

 “Do you believe that schmuck, too?” The skeptical hero turns to Mr. Incredible, and the strong Super awkwardly sucks in air through his teeth. “I mean…when she said she was related to Tim, it was kind of hard not to believe her. She looks a lot like him.”

 “Tim?” Gamma Jack raises a brow, running through his mind of a mutual person they all know by the name of Tim, and he can only think of one. “As in Tim Cane? Head of Security Tim?”

 “That’s the one.” Frozone affirms, and the cape wearing Super has to let that sink in for a moment. He didn’t think to compare her to Tim when she was in his arms, but when he recalls her face, he can say that whoever Tim’s relative married certainly did him a favor. He never would have thought she’d be related to a man like him, and it begs for him to question how such a looker could be related to him.

 “So, how is she related to him? Is she his distant cousin or something? Long lost daughter?” 

 “She’s his great granddaughter, actually.” Mr. Incredible corrects  him, “She’s Little Nicky’s granddaughter.”

 “Little Nicky?” Gamma Jack has to think it over, trying to put a face to the same. Then, he remembers the kid that’s always running around the NSA headquarters whenever Supers are in the building. He’s always ready with new merch to sign and new questions to ask the moment a Super walks in the door — especially Mr. Incredible. If that one Superfan Buddy Pine wasn’t president of the Mr. Incredible fan club, he would say Nicky Cane would be Mr. Incredible’s biggest fan. “Tim’s son? That’s her grandpa?”

 “Well, not right now he isn’t, but that’s what she said.” Mr. Incredible confirms.

 Not only is it amusing that this young woman is related to Timothy “Tim” Cane — a complete hardass and a strict, law and policy-abiding man — but she’s the granddaughter of his only son. Tim and Nick couldn’t be more different from one another; Tim has never said it, but he makes it clear he’s not a huge fan of Supers. He gets along with them and does his job accordingly, but it’s like he would rather work with opposing countries than work with Supers. His son, however, loves Supers. Total fanatic. That makes Gamma Jack wonder what the young woman’s opinion on Supers is, because it wasn’t made very clear to him. Did she care that he saved her? Or does she harbor that same kind of underlying resentment that Tim has? Why does it bother him that she didn’t thank him? It’s not like she really had a chance to before they were suddenly overwhelmed by all his fans charging towards them. He’ll just have to meet up with her again when they’re alone so she can properly thank her savior.

 “Heh. Interesting.” He murmurs to himself.

 “Yeah…” Mr. Incredible mumbles, then looks down at his watch. “Ah, I gotta run.” He glances between the two of them as he takes a step towards his vehicle. “See you guys later?”

 “See you around.” Frozone waves him off, then does the same to Gamma Jack. “You, too, Jack.” He turns and flies off on a pathway of ice, leaving the radioactive Super all alone. “Yeah, see ya…”

 Once the Incredible pulls off and the ice crystals melt and disappear, he’s left to mull over what the others had told him. So, the young woman he saved this morning is not only from the future, but she’s related to the NSA’s Head of Security. That’s pretty hard to believe, but that’s all he seems to know about her. He isn’t sure why he wants to know more, but he does, and the first thing he’s going to do is check in with HQ so he can question Dicker about her whereabouts, wherever he might have taken her.

 A timer on his watch suddenly goes off, and when he checks the time his eyes widen. Damn. He’s going to have to put a reign check on HQ; he has a meeting to get to.

Chapter Text

⸻ ◦◝✶◜◦ ⸻

 Tick, tick, tick, tick…

 It’s quiet in the office she resides in, save for the clock on the wall ticking the seconds away. Wooden panels adorn the walls to give it an old fashioned, run down feel, and there’s a fan overhead that creaks with each spin. There are several filing cabinets sitting against the back wall; full drawers overflowing with documents and paperwork, peeking out from the lips of the drawers. Picture frames cover the wall across from her — filled with pictures of various Superheroes, newspaper clippings, thank you letters, as well as fan mail and drawings from children.

 Elodie is currently sitting in the guest chair directly across from the desk that’s centered in the middle of the room. The desk is just as cluttered and full of paperwork as the filing cabinets behind it, save for a few items like Agent Dicker’s name plate, a small desk lamp, and a couple of small picture frames, presumably of Dicker’s own family. She doesn’t get a chance to observe the room further before the door behind her creaks open and Dicker steps inside. There’s a man trailing in right behind him, and when she locks eyes with him she can feel her chest start to ache. There’s no doubt in her mind that this is her great grandpa Tim; she can tell because he’s practically a spitting image of what her grandpa looked like, only he’s not as old as her grandpa was. He looks to be in his early forties compared to her grandpa, who was ninety-three at the time of his death. Although he may not be as old as he was, the visual of her grandpa’s face is still there. 

 She forces her reminiscing aside for now as the door closes and Dicker plops down into his chair. He scoots up to the desk before giving her his full attention. “Miss Cane,” He addresses, “There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.” He says, gesturing towards the man standing next to him. “This is Tim Cane. He’s our Head of Security here at the NSA.”

 “Hi.” She shyly waves, awkwardly sinking into herself when he looks at her.

 Tim furrows his brows for a moment, studying the young woman’s face. At first glance she looks nothing like his son, but the longer he stares at her the more he can see his little boy’s face mixed in with her genetics — especially her eyes. It’s as if his son’s eyes have been copied and pasted onto another human being, and it unnerves him. Dicker had given him a rundown of the young woman’s story after she was brought back to headquarters, and he didn’t know what was going through the agent’s mind when he was explaining it to him. The time travel in and of itself was enough to make Tim question if Dicker had lost his mind, but to tell him the young lady is in fact one of his own relatives? A relative of his own son, mind you?

 He wanted to know how that was possible, but Dicker didn’t elaborate. He instead questioned if it was alright to perform a DNA test to corroborate the young woman’s story. Tim was reluctant at first, not willing to subject his son to that sort of nonsense, but he ultimately decided to volunteer his own DNA in place of his child’s. 

 Now that he sees the young woman with his own eyes, however, he isn’t sure if a DNA test is even required, but he still wants to know how she’s related to his son. He wants to know if Dicker had a reason not to tell him.

 “Hello, young lady.” He replies.

 Dicker brings Elodie’s attention back to him when he moves on, “As you may know, Miss Cane, none of us here at the NSA can just believe anyone who says they’ve come from the future. If that were the case, we wouldn’t be doing our jobs very well, would we?”

 “No, sir.” She shakes her head, understanding their need for official confirmation of her lineage. It’s not every day someone claims to be from the future — unless there’s something serious wrong with that individual. She knows there’s nothing wrong with her, but that doesn’t mean they do.

 “I’m glad you understand.” Dicker gives a straight smile, “Do you know what it is we do here at the NSA?”

 “Not really. My gr — ” She stops herself, unsure if she should talk about her grandpa in front of her great grandpa so openly. As far as he’s aware, she’s a complete stranger, and she doesn’t want to give him the wrong impression. She quickly corrects herself, “Sorry, uhm, one of my relatives said that you’re a government organization that works with Supers.”

 He listens to her answer, and he slowly nods. “I see…” He ponders for a few moments, then gets back to the task at hand. “Well, be that as it may, we would like you to undergo some tests for us to prove that your story is credible.”

 “Of course, I don’t mind.” 

 “Great.” Dicker glances over to Tim to look at his expression, and he can’t tell what the man is thinking. It’s not like he can usually tell any other time, but the way Tim is looking at Elodie signals to Dicker that something is bothering him. He brushes it off to continue, making a mental note to ask him about it later. “The first test we want to perform is a DNA test. Tim has graciously offered a sample for us already, so all we need now is a sample from you.” He explains, “I’m already aware that you won’t be a one hundred percent match to one another; but if the test falls under a certain percentage, we’ll be able to verify that you’re telling the truth.”

 “Yes, sir.” She agrees vehemently, “What else do you need from me?”

 “Well, we’re going to need to administer a dose of truth serum, run some diagnostics for any powers, and then — ”

 “Wait — ” Elodie cuts him off, and he glances up at her, raising his brows slightly. “Hm?”

 “Diagnostics for powers?” She has a puzzled look on her face. “I don’t have any powers.”

 “Do you know this for certain?” Dicker questions, and she slumps back into her chair at the inquiry.

 No, she doesn’t know for certain if she has powers or not, but she knows nobody in her family had any. Her mother might have had some on her side of the family, but there’s no way of knowing considering her mother was surrendered into foster care anonymously. She can’t imagine where she would’ve gotten any super abilities from, unless it was just a recessive gene on either side of her family. So, does that mean she has the power to time travel? No, that can’t be right. She would’ve figured that out by now — as far as she’s aware, Supers typically developed their powers during infancy, and she’s currently 26. What would her power even be? And how would it cause her to go back in time? She doesn’t know because she’s never had to think about having powers before. 

 “No…” She murmurs, now seeing his point. “I’ve just…never thought about it before now.”

 “How odd.” Dicker furrows his brows. He finds it strange that she says she’s never thought about having powers before now; most Supers who he’s interviewed have told him that they developed their powers as babies or toddlers, but never any time later. Aside from one exception, Psycwave, who discovered her abilities when she was in high school. It makes Elodie’s situation all the more peculiar, but he moves on to explain the rest of the required testing.

 “Once we do those tests, we’ll have to confiscate the clothes you’re wearing and any items you might have to see if there’s any residue on them that might have anything to do with your…travel.”

 Elodie is completely fine with giving away her clothes for examination, but then she thinks about her phone. It’s the only thing tying her back to her time, and she isn’t so sure she’s willing to give that away. It’s not like they can go through it — it’s dead — but that probably won’t mean much to them. She nods, “I’m okay with that, but I do have a small request.”

 “And what’s that?”

 She promptly pulls her phone out of her pocket to show them the device, “I have a phone.”

 Tim quirks a brow, speaking for the second time since he’s been in the room. “I’ve never seen a phone like that.”

 “It’s a smart phone. It was developed in the early two thousands, but I have a later model.” She explains, “I don’t have anything to charge its battery, so it’s dead right now. I wouldn’t be able to show you what’s on it even if I wanted to — not without a charger.” Her lips purse as she continues, “I’m just asking if I could still keep it on me. It’s all I really have connecting me back home.”

 Dicker listens to her request and thinks it over. He might be willing to compromise if she tells them what’s on the device. However, that entirely depends on her willingness to cooperate, which so far seems to be no problem. “Could you at least enlighten us as to what’s on it?”

 “It’s a lot, actually.” She sits up to start spilling information about her phone. “It’s like my own handheld computer. It has a touch screen, built-in cameras, a GPS, various communication tools that don’t just include phone calls, I can watch videos, play music, organize notes, browse for information, and a bunch more. It’s really useful in day to day situations.”

 “Hm…” Dicker strokes his chin in thought, “If we managed to find out how to charge the battery for you, would you mind if we performed a standard search?” 

 She frowns at the suggestion, “I’m not really sure, honestly. I have a lot of personal stuff on there, and I don’t want to risk any of it potentially getting damaged or deleted.”

 She isn’t lying; she has a variety of things on her phone that she doesn’t feel comfortable sharing. It also contains the last few memories she has of her grandpa and her parents, and she doesn’t want to risk the NSA accidentally deleting them or altering them in any way. They’ve never used a smart phone before, so they wouldn’t know how to navigate through it like she does.

 “Understandable.” He acknowledges, then straightens up to suggest another offer. “Would you be willing to consider the offer if you were present during the search?” He questions. “You can leave it in our custody for now while we figure out how to get it charged. Once we do, we’ll have you supervise, if that works for you.” 

 Elodie considers the compromise and reluctantly decides to give in. It’s not like they’ll find anything incriminating, but she can’t guarantee that they won’t find anything inappropriate or offensive — she did warn them.

 “I can agree to that.”

 “Good.” He remarks, then gestures over to Tim. “You can hand it over to Tim. He’s going to take it to one of our labs.” He explains, and Elodie passes the cellular device over to her great grandpa, who looks at it with confusion before turning to Dicker. “If you’ll excuse me.”

 Dicker waves him off, “By all means.”

 “It was nice meeting you.” Elodie blurts out, and Tim stares at her for a brief moment before dipping his head in acknowledgement. “You, too, young lady.” He murmurs, then disappears out the door. 

 “You don’t seem to be jumping for joy to see your great grandfather.” Dicker comments.

 When the two men entered the room, he began observing her behavior towards Tim, and it didn’t seem like she had any emotional feedback towards him. It might be that she was shocked to see him or didn’t have any bond with him growing up; he isn’t sure if it’s his place to ask.

 “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to have some family again, but it’s a lot to take in. He wasn’t around when I was growing up, but he looks a lot like how my grandpa used to. I’m not too expressive when I’m trying to work my feelings out in my head.” She rambles, but there’s one thing the older man can’t help but focus on. ‘I’m happy to have some family again,’ She said. What does she mean by that?

 “What do you mean by ‘have some family again,’ if you don’t mind me asking?” 

 Elodie frowns, and she gets quiet again. She doesn’t have anybody; no family, no friends, and no significant other, either. After her grandpa died, her boyfriend at the time couldn’t take her grief stricken state. She didn’t want to leave the house or go to work, and at some point she ended up losing her job. It made her even more depressed, and she got worse. He begged for her to get help for her depression, but all she ever did was wallow in her own misery. She just gave up, and so did he. She didn’t blame him for leaving — she would’ve left, too.

 Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one to leave. The small number of people she used to call friends dropped her one by one, until even her best friend gave up on her as well. She was afraid that one day she would find Elodie on the news, dead from self-inflicted wounds. None of the people she had left in her life could take it anymore, and for a while she wondered if she couldn’t take it anymore, either. Somehow, she managed to push through her grief. She started to live again, and soon she was able to revive that passion for her writing. That revitalized passion ultimately led her to move across the country to Municiberg, California; she wanted a fresh start and a new environment for her to write her book about Supers. She had been living there for only a few months before she ended up here.

 She loses track of her thoughts and quickly pulls herself back to their conversation, “No, I don’t mind. I say that because back in the future I don’t have any family left. My grandma passed away when I was eight, and my grandpa never remarried. He died four years ago, and my parents died two years before that. I don’t have any siblings, and neither did my parents. My mom grew up in foster care as an only child before she aged out of the system. Her records were sealed, so as far as I know I’m the last of the Canes.”

 Dicker can’t help but feel sympathy for the young woman; she has no family, and there’s no mention of any friends, which means she’s completely alone. It makes him all the more feel for her situation, and when he puts this information together with the statement she made earlier regarding her phone, he understands why she was so protective over it. It must contain the last pieces of memory she has of her loved ones. He makes a note on a loose slip of paper to treat the device with extra care, sliding it to the side once he’s finished jotting it down. “I see…” He gets quiet, “I’m sorry for your loss. Is it okay if I asked how you lost your parents?”

 A slight smile pulls at her lips, surprised but appreciative for the condolences. “Oh, well, thank you.” She looks down at the following question, averting her gaze from his own. “They died in a car accident. A drunk driver in a semi-truck veered into my parents lane and hit them head on.” She looks back up at him, “I don’t mean to sound so blazon about it, if that’s how it sounds.”

 “No, it’s fine.” He quickly spews out. “I’m sorry about all that. It must’ve been hard to lose them all in such a short time.” He frowns, then turns his attention towards his office door when a delicate knock taps against the wood. “Come in.”

 The door flies open and a middle aged woman pops into the room. She has frizzy gray hair piled on top of her head into a messy bun; there’s a pen and a pencil stuffed into the base of it and Elodie isn’t sure if it’s for the woman to use later or to hold the bun together. She’s wearing a bright yellow cardigan, paired with a set of green plaid pants and red slippers. She has a funky looking brooch on her right breast pocket, but Elodie can’t tell what it actually is. The older woman has a look of surprise on her face when she looks into the room and sees that Dicker has company. “Am I interrupting something?”

 “No, Shirley.” Dicker replies, “You’re actually just the woman I need.” He rises from his chair and gestures towards Elodie. “Miss Cane here is in need of a change of clothes. Would you be so kind as to find her something temporary to wear? We need to confiscate her clothes for examination.” 

 “Sure thing.” Shirley chirps, then passes over a pile of papers to Dicker’s desk. “By the way, here are the reports you asked for.”

 “Thank you.” He says, reaching for the paperwork once it's placed on his desk. Shirley then turns to Elodie, “What sizes do you wear, hon?”

 “My shirt size is large, and my pants size is usually an extra large, or a size fourteen to sixteen to be more specific.” She answers, and Shirley makes a face as she puts her hands on her hips. “You don’t look that big, sister. Even those clothes you’re wearing are baggy on you.”

 “I’m curvier than I look.” Elodie affirms, and the older woman relents. “Well, if you say so.” She shrugs, then moves towards the door. “I’ll be back shortly.”

 “Ah, Shirley, before you go — ” Dicker says, “The scientists should be getting ready for a DNA test for her to take shortly. Do you mind taking Miss Cane to one of our waiting areas in the meantime? I would escort her myself, but I actually have a few meetings to attend this afternoon.” 

 “Of course.” Shirley smiles, and she motions her head for Elodie to follow. “Come with me, hon. I’ll show you where you can wait for now.”

 “Okay.” Elodie gets up from her seat, then glances back at Dicker. “I guess I’ll see you later?”

 “Yes, ma’am. You can count on it.” He nods, and the young woman turns around, leaving the office to follow Shirley to the waiting area. 

 She can only hope that once she gets there she won’t have to wait long. She’s ready to get out of these pajama shorts and into some real pants.

Chapter Text

⸻ ◦◝✶◜◦ ⸻

 After Shirley dropped Elodie off to the waiting room, it didn’t take long for the scientists Dicker had mentioned to come and retrieve her for the DNA test. They took several swabs of the inside of her cheeks, a few hair samples, and a urine sample before they led her back to the waiting room once they were finished with her. Shirley eventually returned with a pile of clothes for her to change into, and sitting on top of the clothes were a hairbrush and a headband. Shirley said, “A girl always needs an accessory,” and told her the hair brush was just in case she wanted to make her hair look a little nicer. Elodie wasn’t sure if she should’ve taken it as helpful advice or a backhanded compliment, but she didn’t care enough to say anything about it before the older woman showed her to a nearby bathroom for her to change. That’s where she is now — looking at herself in the mirror to check out the temporary outfit Shirley had given her. She’s wearing a white floral patterned blouse with a pair of black high waisted dress pants, and luckily for her, the outfit happens to match the shoes Dicker had sent someone to retrieve for her. She quickly uses the hairbrush to stroke it through her hair a few times to remove any tangles or loose hairs, then puts the headband on and looks in the mirror.

 ‘Wow.’ She thinks to herself, ‘I can’t tell if I look like my grandma or if this is actually kind of cute.”

 She turns her body in different angles to check herself out before adjusting her classes and stepping out of the bathroom.

 Shirley is in the waiting room ready to take her clothes, and Elodie holds them out for her to take. Once they’re in her hands, Shirley sets off to the labs to drop off the garments for testing. “I’ll be back in just a bit, hon. I’m going to drop these off, then I’m going to get in touch with Dicker so we can give you something to do until he gets back.”

 “Yes, ma’am.” Elodie nods, and she finds her seat again in one of the waiting room chairs. The waiting room itself is pretty spacious; it has white vinyl flooring, bright LED lights overhead that make it feel like a sterilized hospital lobby, and baby blue painted walls. There are a few rows of waiting chairs lined up, partnered with either a side table or a rack of magazines for visiting parties to read. The entrance to the waiting area is to her left, while there are two sets of double doors; one located directly across from her and the other to her right. 

 It feels like a few minutes have passed before her wait is interrupted by what she assumes are more Supers stepping into the waiting room. Frozone, one of the Supers Elodie had spoken to earlier, is part of the small group of Supers. He glances over at her mid-conversation with another visor wearing Super, and he doesn’t recognize her at first, leading him to do a double take to confirm who he thought he just saw. “Is that — ?” He turns back to his conversation to put it on hold, “I don’t mean to interrupt you, but can you give me a second? I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute.”

 “Sure thing.”

 The rest of the Supers watch Frozone as he breaks away from the group, questioning among themselves as to who the young woman he’s approaching is and why she’s here. More importantly, how does Frozone know her? He’ll have to fill them in on the young woman’s identity later. They all leave through the double doors on the right — off to do whatever it is that they’re going to do. Elodie can only assume heroic duties, but she brushes it off to greet Frozone with a smile as he walks up to her.

 “Hey, Frozone.”

 Once he gets close and hears the sound of her voice, he recognizes her instantly. This is the same young woman from earlier who said she was from the future; she’s almost unrecognizable with her new outfit. What did she say her name was? Emily? Eloise? He can’t remember, and he’s embarrassed to admit that, even to himself. It was only a couple of hours ago that they met each other, and he’s already forgotten her name. “Hey, future girl.” He jokes, hoping to to tease her and also get her to repeat her name. 

 “It’s Elodie.” Her smile falters for a moment, but she shrugs off his forgetfulness when he says something else. “Right. I almost didn’t recognize you with your new fit.”

 She glances down at her clothes, and she suddenly feels sheepish. She knows these clothes are only temporary, but they make her feel more out of place than she did before when she was in her pajamas. Maybe she’ll have the chance to go shopping at some point, but she’s just gonna have to be stuck with what she has for now. “Ah, yeah. It’s just something temporary…I hope.” She laughs.

 “Oh, no, I think you look great. I do think it does make you look older, though.” Frozone comments.

 That didn’t exactly make her feel any better. She knew she looked like a grandma, and she’s embarrassed to know someone else notices it, too. However, she’s able to find the humor in it knowing she wasn’t the only one to think about the similarities. She giggles, “I know, I look like somebody’s grandma, right?” 

 Frozone lets out a hearty laugh, “I actually think you make it work.” He calms down from his fit of laughter before questioning why she’s in the waiting room in the first place. “So, what are you doing here?”

 “Well, Dicker arranged for me to take a DNA test to prove I’m related to Tim, which I already took. I don’t know how long it’ll be before I get any results back.” She explains, “They took my clothes for examination, and now I’m just waiting for them to run some power diagnostics.”

 “You have powers?” He raises his brows, “Is it time travel? It would make sense as to why you’re here.”

 “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about having powers before because I thought I didn’t have any.” She shrugs. “But I don’t think it’s time travel. I think it’s something else, but I don’t have a clue what it could be.”

 “Hm…” Frozone hums in thought, but only for a moment. He has to get a move on before his friends start their training session without him, and they will. “I’m not sure, either, then.” He says, “I have to go for now, but if you had to guess, think about something that’s happened a lot in your life — even if it just seems like a coincidence. That would be a good place to start.”

 She nods as she considers the suggestion, “Oh, well, thanks for the tip.” She smiles. “I’ll see you later, then.”

 “Catch you on the flipside.” He quips, then disappears through the same double doors the Supers had left through just a few minutes ago.

 Elodie sits back in her chair as she thinks over what Frozone had told her. ‘Think about something that’s happened a lot in your life — even if it just seems like a coincidence.’ Where does she start with that? What is something that’s happened a lot in her life? And how would it give her the ability to go back in time? She feels stumped trying to figure out her power; she wishes she had a way for someone to come out and say it instead of making her guess. She’s terrible at guessing things, so it’s not like looking back on her formative years is going to do much for her.

 A frustrated sigh falls from her lips, but she turns her attention towards the double doors across from her when a scientist emerges from them.

 “Miss Cane?” She asks, and Elodie stands up at the sound of her surname being called. “Yes, ma’am?”

 “We’re ready for your diagnostics now. You can follow me and we can get started.” 

 “Okay.”

 Elodie walks over to follow the scientist, and she leads her down several corridors before they reach the testing room. It looks more like an interrogation room than any kind of testing room she’s ever been in; there’s a metal table and a couple of chairs pulled up to it, and there’s medical equipment set up in the room to presumably perform the diagnostics they were talking about. There’s a large part of the wall on the right side that’s made with a mirror like material, and she wonders if it’s a two way mirror for her to be observed during her testing. The scientist gestures for her to have a seat, and Elodie finds herself in the chair facing the door.

 The female scientist closes the door behind her and starts taking Elodie’s vitals — she checks her blood pressure, her respiration, and temperature, then jots them down on her clipboard.

 Elodie looks at the name tag on the right breast pocket of the scientist’s lab coat, and she can make out the name ‘Betty.’ Betty follows up Elodie’s vital testing with putting an ancient looking headset onto her head. “This is just going to scan your brain activity so we can compare it to a Super’s brain activity, m’kay?”

 “Okay.” Elodie nods in understanding, sitting patiently while the scan is performed. She feels like some sort of test subject, but she knows this is necessary in order to determine if she really does have super powers. She still doesn’t have an idea as to what it is, which makes her all the more hopeful that the scientists here at the NSA will be able to tell her what her power is. The headset is taken off of her head when the scan is done, and Betty jots down her findings. “I’ll have someone come in for you in just a few minutes. Wait here, please.”

 “Yes, ma’am.” Elodie says, and Betty leaves the room. 

 Elodie puts her elbow on the table and rests her chin in her hand, losing herself in her thoughts while she waits for whoever Betty is going to send her way. How are they going to find out what her power is? Are they going to see how she reacts to specific objects or something? Is that how they figure that kind of thing out? She purses her lips, wondering how she’ll even prove she has powers. How does she make that happen when it’s never happened before? At least, not until last night. What was so different about last night that made her go back in time? All she remembers is she was researching the Supers from the old days before bed, and now she’s suddenly in the very ‘old days’ she was researching. What kind of power would lead to that?

 “Ugh!” She shifts around in her chair with frustration, antsy to get an answer. Her agitation is cut short when another NSA employee enters the room, with Betty coming in right behind him. His name tag reads ‘Ben,’ and he’s wearing a light gray suit, paired with a red tie to match. His dark brown hair is styled into a gelled up curl, and he has a friendly vibe about him. He takes a seat in the chair opposite to her and greets her with a smile.

 “Hello, Miss Cane. I’m Ben Smith, but you can call me Bennie if you’d like.” He introduces himself, a beaming smile to match his friendly demeanor. Elodie gives him a smile in return. “Hi, Bennie.”

 “I’m just going to go through some standard questions we here at the NSA typically ask our new Supers.” He says, “Is that okay with you?”

 “Sure.” She agrees. She doesn’t mind answering any questions, but it’s not like she really has a choice. It’s only necessary in order for the NSA to help her, and she’s ready to give them whatever they need from her.

 “Perfect.” He grins. “Let’s start with the obvious. Do you know what your powers are?”

 She shakes her head, “No. I didn’t think I had any.”

 “Do you have an idea as to what they might be?” He asks.

 “No.” She frowns. “I was hoping you’d be able to figure that out for me.”

 Bennie nods as Betty writes down Elodie’s response. “I see.” He moves onto the next question, “Tell me, what was your childhood like?”

 “Oh, uh — ” She stutters, taken aback by the intrusive question. “I think it was good. My parents were wonderful people and even better parents. They were my number one fans in everything I did.” She smiles weakly, and it fades when she elaborates further. “I did get bullied for a little while at school, though, but by the time I got into high school I was usually left alone. Other than that, my childhood was good, yeah.”

 “What were you bullied for, if you don’t mind me asking?”

 Elodie shifts in her seat; her body language telling her interviewer that the inquiry made her uncomfortable. “I got bullied for my weight, among other things. I was dealing with a hormone imbalance at the time, and weight gain was a part of it. My weight used to be a sore subject for me, but later on I realized that it was the things they said to and about me that hurt, not that I actually felt bad for being curvy.”

 “What did they say?” He tilts his head in curiosity, but she avoids answering the question. “I’d rather not say.”

 “Understandable.” Bennie nods, “I noticed you talk about your parents in the past tense.” He states, “Does that mean that they’re — ”

 “Yes, they’re dead.” She cuts him off. “They died after a drunk driver hit them head on.”

 “Oh, I’m so sorry.” He spits out, and he looks uncomfortable now, as if unnerved by the lack of emotion in her response. Why does she sound so emotionless when she says it? Did she actually care about her parents, or is she just used to telling people what happened to them? “That must have been hard for you.” He frowns.

 “It was. If it weren’t for my grandpa, I don’t think I would’ve made it through my grief.” She replies, leaning against the cold metal of her chair.

 “It sounds like you and your grandpa are close.” Bennie comments, and Elodie nods. “Yeah, he was my best friend. I could tell him just about anything or come to him with any problem, and he always had a logical answer.” She smiles. “It was nice to have someone give me a logical response instead of playing into my theatrics like my parents usually did. He made me feel challenged when he did that — like he always wanted me to think about things.”

 “Did he pass on, too?”

 Elodie fiddles with her fingers, trying to distract herself from the depressing change in conversation. “Yeah…”

 “Do you have any other family members? What about your grandma?” Bennie asks.

 “My grandma got sick and passed away when I was eight.” She responds, “I don’t have any siblings, or aunts, or uncles, or cousins. My mother was an orphan and never knew her parents.” 

 Bennie looks unsettled after she comes clean about her family ties. It seems as if misfortune follows this young woman wherever she goes, more specifically that her family members all seem to be deceased. Does that mean her powers have anything to do with causing death? He isn’t so sure he feels very comfortable being in the room with her now. Will she end up killing him by accident? Or is he just making paranoid assumptions? He has to set his discomfort aside to continue with the interview, “Okay. We can move onto something else.” He swallows nervously. “Tell me about your hobbies. What do you like to do for fun?”

 ‘Finally, a question that doesn’t make the whole room uncomfortable.’ She muses to herself. “I like to write. Fictional or nonfictional, though I prefer the former.”

 ‘Great. Something positive. Now I’m onto something.’ Bennie thinks. “What do you like to write?”

 “Whatever I have the drive for. Sci-fi thrillers, documentaries, articles, etcetera, etcetera.” She says, “I like to daydream a lot, so I found a way to make some use of it.” 

 Her answer makes him feel like he’s making some progress the moment she mentions daydreaming, and he decides to bring attention to it. “Has your daydreaming ever caused anything weird to happen?”

 His inquiry takes her aback for a moment; she’s never thought about it that way, and now that the idea has been put in her head, she has to call to question any time something might have happened due to her daydreaming. Her school bullies quickly come to mind when she thinks back to the time leading up to them leaving her alone. She originally thought they had grown bored of her and wanted to torment someone else instead, but then she remembers all the things she wished she had the courage to do — all the things she wanted to do to embarrass them so much that they’d never mess with her again. That is, until all the stuff she thought about happening to them actually happened. 

 Once girl woke up to find that her little brother had shaved her head while she was asleep, another one had an allergic reaction and broke out into an acne frenzy, the third got her car towed after she parked it in a teacher’s spot, and the final girl got suspended and lost her scholarship for hiring someone to hack the school system and alter her grades. Elodie wanted the first couple of girls to realize that their looks didn’t make them better than anyone else. She wanted the third girl to stop being so careless with her car after almost hitting her with it in the school parking lot, and she wanted the fourth girl to be exposed for cheating off of her and stealing her homework answers. The events that transpired against them make her suddenly realize what her power must be.

 She isn’t entirely certain, but she may or may not have an inkling that her power has something to do with manifestation. She must have the ability to manifest things into happening, which would finally explain why she went back in time last night. She must have manifested being able to meet the Supers from the old days after getting frustrated about the lack of information about them. She even remembers playfully joking to herself that it would be better if she met the Supers in person instead. It finally makes sense, but how does her power work exactly? Would she be able to manifest going back home? How is she supposed to do that when she doesn’t know how she did it in the first place? She was asleep for crying out loud.

 Bennie clears his throat, drawing her attention back to him. “Miss Cane?”

 “Oh, sorry.” She murmurs. “I was just thinking…”

 “About what?”

 “I think…” She slowly says, still unsure of her answer. “I think I might have an idea what my power is.” 

 “Oh? Well, what do you think it is?” He sits up, eager to get the answer out of her before he loses his mind wondering if he’s going to drop dead at any second.

 “I think I have the power to manifest.” She elaborates, “Like, if I think of something hard enough, it’ll really happen.”

 “Has that happened before?” He asks, now relieved that her power isn’t associated with death. At least, that’s what he thinks; there’s no way for him to really know as of right now.

 “Yeah.” She nods, but she doesn’t tell him about her school bullies. It might make her look like she’s used her powers to hurt people, when that wasn’t at all her intention. She instead thinks about the other times in her life where she manifested good fortune, and now that it occurs to her, she can recall a multitude of memories. It could be as simple as finding $10 on the street when she wished for a few dollars for dinner, or even having a stranger give her words of affirmation after wishing for a positive sign that things would get better for her. They seem like small coincidences to most people — and even she didn’t think much of those little moments before now — but it’s clear they’re more than that. They were moments of her using her powers, and she didn’t even know it.

 “I’ve thought about things happening before, and I usually thought they were just coincidences or something.” She says, “I don’t really know how to explain it.”

 “Can you give me an example?”

 “Uh, I don’t know.” She rubs the fabric of her dress pants between her thumb and index finger as she tries to think of an example. “I guess if I needed some money, I would find a five or a ten dollar bill on the street. If I’m having a bad day and I want something to cheer me up, a stranger will do something nice or say something that will make my day. Usually small things like that.”

 “Have you ever used your powers to hurt anyone?”

 Elodie scoffs, “Of course not. Not that I’m aware of, anyway. I’ve thought about people getting their karma, but nothing more serious than that. Maybe a pebble in their shoe or an inconvenience in their day.” She admits, and Bennie nods. “Do you think you could display your powers if you were given the opportunity to show us?”

 “I could try. I still don’t know how it works, if that’s what my power actually is.” She purses her lips, and Bennie rises from his seat. 

 “I think that’s all the questions I have for you now, Miss Cane.” He says, then holds a hand out for her to shake. “It was nice meeting you.”

 “You, too.” Elodie shakes his hand firmly, and he turns towards the door to leave, which prompts Betty to step over to the table. “You can follow me back to the waiting room for now, Miss Cane.”

 “Okay.” The young woman nods, and she follows the scientist back to the waiting room. Only, when Betty drops her off and leaves, the waiting room isn’t empty like the last time she was in here. There’s a Super sitting in one of the chairs — a familiar looking Super that’s dressed in a navy blue suit, a bright yellow cape, and a dark mask over his eyes. It’s the Super that saved her mid-fall in the debacle with Baron Von Ruthless.

 It’s Gamma Jack.