Chapter Text
Caustic has been pacing up and down in his compound for hours. With every step, more and more of the papers lying on the floor got wrinkled. Some of them were becoming almost unreadable. His compound was a complete mess: some chairs and his desk have been thrown violently on the ground. Paintings ripped from the walls and there was a pile of scrap where his monitor would have been. Only his plants were be untouched. The large man trampled sluggishly to the kitchen, trying to keep his balance. He picked up one of the bottles standing on the counter, puts his head back and pours its contains in his open mouth. In his current state, the liquid only stings a little, as a hot stream flows down his throat. Some of the liquid missed the target and ran down his chin on his clothes. Alexander examined the now empty bottle in his hand. The glass was shiny and he could see his reflection. He seemed to have aged a lot. Red, deep sunken eyes framed by dark circles. The once green shimmer now almost grey. His hair messy and greasy.
He stared at his own image for a moment and then smashed the bottle against the wall opposite to him. Pieces of glass exploded everywhere and a wet spot appeared on the wall. Caustic turned around and with a single swop all remaining bottles went flying. The noise was deafening, but he didn’t care. All he could think of was his mother and Crypto. How she replaced him with some dog from the street. Alexander has monitored his parents after he faked his death. How they coped with their loss. His mother’s orphanage. Her way of coping with the death of her son. His father’s death. His way of coping with the death of his son. When it was too much for him and he had to distant himself. He didn’t need the distraction. That’s what he told himself. His research was much more important. He needed to perfect the formular before the time runs out. It was just for some a few months, maybe a couple of years, then his lie would become truth and everything would be set right. That was the plan, that’s what it was meant to be, what he wished to be. However, this moment never came. He is still here. Here in his kitchen, standing surrounded by no one but himself and his thoughts.
The thoughts in his head were getting louder and louder. The alcohol could only silence them this much and he was out of it. Alexander felt the frustration building up in him. He was a proud man. Proud for his ability to keep calm and be collected in even the most heated battles during the Games. But now he couldn’t finish a clear though. Back in his living room Alexander gave in to his primal instincts, lashing out and kicking a chair lying on the ground in front him. He instantly regretted it. He had kicked the chair with so much force, that it hit one of his plants shattering the pot, scattering the soil. Caustic kneeled before the plant and examined the damage he had done. The plant couldn’t be saved. Anger and frustration were building up again. It took his all might not to burn down this place entirely. He knew he needed to do something. Getting out of here. Somewhere where he could release his frustration. Too bad that there were no test subjects in his laboratory, on which he could blew his steam off, Alexander thought. Then, another thought strikes him in a moment of clarity – the firing range. He looked at the clock on the wall, that was surprisingly still hanging. It was 4 a.m. No one would be there at this moment – the perfect opportunity to let out this frustration on some helpless dummies. He grabbed his mask and staggered out of his compound.
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With a buzzing sound from his alarm clock, Fuse woke up. He punched the clock to silence and immediately turned on his stereo. Electric Light Opera welcomed the day with Mr. Blue Sky
Sun is shinin’ in the sky
There ain’t a cloud in the sky
Yeah, bloody hell of a day, said Walter as he stretched his sleep away on the balcony of his compound, all while brushing his teeth. It was still early in the morning but it was already pleasantly warm. All the other Legends were still sleeping probably, but this is how Fuse liked it. He made himself a cuppa and relaxed a bit on his balcony. The warm sun tingled him a little bit. He just allowed himself a couple of minutes of relaxations, because he had a lot planned today. To be able to keep up with all the ankle biters, he had to train regularly. So, every morning he went to the firing range and then hit the gym before breakfast. Today, he also wanted to go to the city, stocking up on supplies and check out some new music equipment. Full of anticipation, he put his mug into the sink, turned of his stereo and went out to the firing range.
As always, there was no one to greet him in the morning. He walked down the halls humming Mr. Blue Sky – now stuck in his head for probably the rest of the day. Walter reached the elevator and selected the lowest level – the firing range. With a low sir the doors closed and the elevator started descending. A bright and almost comically ding announced his destination and the doors opened. Fuse entered the dark corridor, that seemed almost pitch black in the contrast to the bright yellowish and blue outside. The sand will be burning by noon, Walter thought, good that I prefer to go practicing in the morning. Fuse had to raise his hand in front of his eyes, as he got dazzled by the sun, stepping out of the corridor to the firing range. Even before his eyes could adjust to the light, he could hear that he was not alone. Still blinking, Walter spotted Caustic sitting on a dummy, his fists repeatedly smashing into the puppet.
Blood hell, what’s up with the big guy, Walter thought. Taken by surprise, Walter was frozen in his tracks. Some of the targets were smashed into pieces, weapons were carelessly tossed around. There were various craters made by grenades. All in all, the firing range looked like there was an all-out war going on. The larger man didn’t seem to have noticed him yet. Walter could just turn around, go, pretend he never saw a thing. But he was also curious what made the big guy made all this. Walter stood where he has been for some time arguing with himself what he should do next, when this choice was taken from him, when the doctor suddenly stopped his smashing and stood up.