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The first punch thrown is at his throat. That’s how Felix knows they mean business. He blocks it with a hastily thrown arm and retaliates by slapping his hands down hard over his assailant’s ears. The resulting crack is echoed by a screech as the man’s eardrums burst, and he drops to the ground like a stone.
One down, two to go.
Too bad the second one has a knife.
Felix sees it long after he should have, too caught up in ensuring his feet don’t get tangled in the limbs of the man he just downed, so he doesn’t register the blade until it’s halfway into his shoulder and still going. His arm goes limp, dead weight on instinct as he lets out a choked cough. The second man buries the blade in to the hilt before letting go and taking a hesitant step back as if wondering what Felix will do. Felix, like most people who’ve just been stabbed, takes the opportunity for a few huge, gasping breaths, trying not to let the fog of shock overwhelm him just yet.
That’s when the third man kicks his knee in with a sickening crunch and he collapses into the pavement.
This is it, he thinks absently. I’m going to bleed out and die in this goddamn alley.
Not a great thought to be having at barely 8pm, but no one ever accused him of being an optimist. The two men still standing pull their friend off the ground, and he groans as he gets up. “Grab the knife,” he mumbles, just a bit too loud as he compensates for his damaged hearing. “Fingerprints.”
One of the others grunts, and then a boot is pushing into Felix’s chest, rolling him over onto his back. The goon who stabbed him frowns, not making eye contact, before he grabs the knife hilt and pulls.
“Ah- ack!” Felix yells out unintelligibly as the blade slides out of his shoulder. The friction of it pulls him off the ground for a second before he drops back down, shuddering. The man holds the knife in a delicate grip, like he’s disgusted by the blood on the blade. That was your choice, mate, Felix wants to remind him. I’d rather you’d kept it clean too.
Then the trio is gone, and he's left staring at the night sky.
God, he’s only been homeless for a fucking week. Surely his life expectancy should have been higher than this. The trio have taken what they’d been looking for - his bag, and in it all his money and his phone - but at least left what was in his pockets. He digs around with his good arm until he finds what he’s after.
It’s a lighter. Nothing fancy, just one of those plastic ones, neon green. He flicks it, trying to get the spark to catch, but it stays dead. “Come on.” He grits his teeth and tries again.
“Hey.”
Felix freezes. His eyes dart over to the end of the alley and the source of the noise, and when he sees it, he almost laughs.
“You couldn’t have gotten here like five minutes sooner?”
Like every major city on earth, this one has superheroes. Patrolling the streets, mingling with the people, standing up for justice. Felix has seen them hundreds of times on TV, saving innocent bystanders from the villain of the week.
“Never met one of you guys in person though,” he mumbles as the hero carries him out of the alleyway.
“What?”
“A hero. Never met a real one.”
The hero laughs. “I’d usually say something about how this is your lucky day, but I’ll save it for now, huh.”
Felix manages a chuckle at that. His knee aches, his shoulder burns, and his head is starting to swim.
The hero’s name, he knows, is Storm. He’s a bit shorter than Felix - most people are - but he’s sturdy, built like a fighter. He’s the darling of the evening news. “Got a family I should call?” he asks, and Felix rolls his eyes. “Okay, so hospital.” Storm kicks off the ground and suddenly they’re floating a foot in the air as he adjusts his hold on Felix, who hisses as his leg is jostled. “Don’t freak out,” he says as a word of warning, and then they’re a dozen metres above the nearest roof and Felix scrambles to figure out how anyone could expect him not to freak out right now. He fists his hand in Storm’s shirt as the air whistles around him.
Storm drops him off at a hospital two suburbs over that is clearly used to this, because they have a stretcher ready within a minute of his arrival. The hero drops Felix carefully onto it and backs away, and Felix has just enough consciousness left to mutter a weak thank you.
“No worries,” Storm says with a practiced grin. There’s blood on his clothes, and Felix grimaces, but the hero waves it off. “It’ll wash out.” And then he’s gone, back up above the rooftops and speeding away.
The nurses wheel Felix inside.
They release him the next day with four stitches in his shoulder and stern instructions not to move his arm until they dissolve. His arm’s in a fabric sling to keep it steady, which is just fine, since he doesn’t have anything to carry out anyway. There’s a support bandage wrapped tight around his knee - it turned out to be sprained, not broken, which was a small mercy - but no crutches with only one arm free.
Plus he gets the feeling they didn’t want to give him one in case he didn’t bring it back.
He steps out onto the street and turns his feet downhill, aiming for the botanical gardens. Walking’s a slower process than usual, but he eventually makes it and sprawls under a fig tree, staring at the harbour. He’s tired, and banged up, and just a little hungry, but at least he didn’t bleed out. Small mercies.
He thinks about the three guys from the alleyway. Thinks about how direct they’d been in finding him, how they’d already been wearing masks when they arrived. Thinks about how they’d gone straight for an attack that would have killed him rather than just taking his bag and running. Then he very pointedly doesn’t think about it.
He goes to sleep.
“You were out late last night,” Jake says by way of greeting. Sam grumbles an acknowledgement, still only half-awake, and grabs a slice of toast from the toaster before Andy has a chance to put it on his plate. He bites into it with his eyes closed and leans against the kitchen counter.
“That was my breakfast.” Andy says.
“Then eat it faster next time, nerd.”
Andy huffs a sigh and puts another two slices in the toaster.
“Saved some homeless kid. Took a while to get him to the hospital.”
“Like an actual child?”
“Nah, like a teenager. Probably our age. Got mugged near the rock candy place.”
“Oh, I love that place.”
Sam hums in agreement.
“Rock candy’s like 90% sugar,” Andy chimes in. “Not exactly part of a healthy diet.”
“This from the guy whose nai nai sends him takeaway every other night.” Jake shoots back.
Sam groans and rests his forehead on the table. “Three hours of sleep,” he mumbles.
“We’ve still got that government thing to go to today.” Andy reminds him. “I guess you can nap after that?”
That government thing. God damn it. Sam lifts his head half an inch off the table and lets it drop back down with a thump.
Felix wakes up and the sun is high in the sky. Close to lunchtime, he thinks. The shifting shadows of the fig tree have parted to let a beam of light fall directly onto his eye, and he raises his good hand to shield it. As he does, he sees two cops walking up the path towards him.
Time to move.
He pushes himself slowly to his feet, shaking the stiffness out of his joints, and starts making his own slow way back towards the city.
The bells at town hall ring. Midday. A tram ambles past him and he considers catching a ride, but this is the most likely place for him to find food or money, so he keeps himself moving through the arcades and galleries. A half-eaten muffin is left on a cafe table by a sharp-looking woman in a pantsuit, and he swipes it before the waitress can see.
Chocolate chip. Not bad.
He wanders along, muffin in hand, and keeps an eye on the gutter as he moves. Before he knows it, his pockets are two dollars heavier. Might be enough for dinner, if he plays his cards right. He can’t risk shoplifting right now, not until his leg is good enough to run on.
He follows the tramway, weaving slowly between the benches on the side of the footpath, and eventually finds himself at town hall. There’s a big crowd gathered out front, and he cranes his neck, trying to see what the commotion’s about. The media is packed in around the stairs, and at the top he spots a few official-looking people in suits and-
Huh. There’s Storm.
He’s standing in front of the cameras with his classic winning smile on his face, waving with one lazy hand. Next to him are two people Felix has never met but knows well - Harbour and Earthshock. The three of them form the primary hero team in Sydney, and cover the entire east in their patrols. Harbour is short and overdressed, wearing a well-tailored suit that looks horribly out of place next to Earthshock, who’s opted for a tshirt and jeans. The two of them look uncomfortable in front of the media, with Harbour giving an anxious smile and Earthshock just scowling at the cameras.
Slowly, the photo op passes, and the media start to traipse out, with one or two reporters staying behind for what look like prescheduled interviews. Felix is impressed by the restraint, but then again, looking at the glares Earthshock is giving anyone who steps too close, this perhaps isn’t surprising.
Somehow, Storm catches sight of Felix.
"Hey!" He calls, earning them both a few turned heads from the crowd still milling about. "It's you again!"
Felix freezes, unsure of how to respond. Storm breaks off from the interview - a couple of cameras follow him, shit - and walks over to clap Felix on the shoulder like they've been best friends since forever. Felix grits his teeth and resists the urge to shrug his hand away.
"They patch you up okay?" Storm asks, and he nods. "Yeah, Vinnie's is usually good with stab wounds. Bruises and broken bones I take to RPA, but their nurses aren't as neat with stitches, you know?"
Felix does not know. This is very far outside the realm of his usual scope of conversation.
"How many'd they give you?"
"Four." He says shortly. Somehow, that felt like a personal question.
"Hey, not too bad. I once took a guy in who needed twelve for one stab. Would have been five but he jerked his leg once the knife was in and-"
"Storm!" Earthshock cuts him off before he can get into the grisly details. "You know we get paid for these, yeah?"
Storm grins like he's just heard a joke. "Okay, okay." He shakes Felix's shoulder a little before letting go. "Take care of yourself, yeah?"
Felix nods blankly, and then the hero leaves, wandering back to the reporters.
...okay.
Weird.