WHO: Ashby & Joon WHAT: Ashby is the big hero to Joon’s damsel in distress WHEN: Sunday, November 9th; after a show, approximately 3AM WHERE: on the streets WARNINGS: descriptions of a mugging STATUS:complete
It wasn’t like Joon made a habit of staying out super late, being in the darkness of this hour was a little unnerving, but it was something that couldn’t be avoided because of his job. If he was honest, Joon preferred this time of night to the hustle and bustle of the busier hours. He still hadn’t mastered the art of keeping his powers fully under control at high stress, and being in large crowds was definitely a source of high stress. He hadn’t had an incident yet, aside from drunken strangers trying to get to friendly, so he was feeling pretty good after a particularly active show tonight.
The club manager had paid him, in full, in cash before he left the club and he’d tacked the large wad of bills in his backpack along with his headphones and his laptop. Joon preferred cheques for easier handling, but this club was the only club that paid in cash, so it wasn’t too bad. He was just glad that all the local clubs used the same mixing equipment, so he didn’t have to get used to a whole new set every time he played somewhere different. Once he was far away enough that he was sure no one would have followed him, he pulled the dust mask from his face and shoved it into the pocket of his jacket. It felt good to breathe fresh air after a night inside the club.
In fact, he was so preoccupied by the feeling of the cool night air on his skin that he didn’t hear someone run up behind him until it was too late. He felt something hard press against his side and he froze as someone leaned in close to his ear.
“Slowly take off your backpack and keep your hands where I can see them,” The low gravelly voice spoke quietly into his ear.
Joon tried to stay calm, but he could feel his pulse rising and the fear rolling off himself in small waves. The object against his side was shaking a little and Joon froze, afraid to move but also afraid that he would seem defiant if he didn’t. He wasn’t trying to be difficult, but it was clear that the other man was getting affected by his power.
“What are you doing, kid? Start moving!”
Painfully slowly, Joon breathed in through his nose and started to unloop his backpack from his right arm. Silently, he prayed for someone to help him. He didn’t care about the money or the other things in his backpack; he kept his laptop backed up and everything else could be replaced. He was just afraid that the other man would shoot out of fear. The fear that Joon was pushing into the other man, himself.
The man’s shout had drifted to the rooftops where Ashby had been patrolling. He turned his head toward the source, narrowing his eyes as he tried to listen for any followup. It sounded too hostile to be someone ushering their drunk friend off the street, and the clubs and bars should’ve cast away their last customers a while ago. Time for action. With a glance to check that, yes, someone was trying to mug a kid, Ashby leapt over the side and landed on the fire escape ladder with a resounding clatter that echoed through the alleyway.
He jumped again to the ground and rose from his crouched position to face the shaken pair. “Hey,” he drawled, lifting a gloved hand to pull the scarf down to his chin. “Put down the gun.”
His words weren’t heeded, because said gun was now pointed at him. Criminals. They never listened. The mugger took a step back, dragging his victim with him. “Don’t come any closer!” He pressed the gun back against Joon, now at his head. His voice shook, and he looked more terrified than the kid did. “O-or I’ll shoot him!”
Ashby raised his hands and took a step closer. “Well, that’s not going to stop me.” Another step. “So instead of shooting him, which would be pretty useless for everyone here—” And another step. “—you could try to shoot me, so you at least have a chance.”
As soon as the gun was aimed back at him, he took his chance and lurched forward, grabbing the barrel and crushing it within his grip. He yanked the gun from the mugger’s grip and used it to smack the guy across the head, then punched him again for good measure.
The hit sent both the mugger and the kid to the ground. Oops, so much for putting the civilian’s safety first. Ashby pocketed the crumpled weapon and kicked the guy, and after affirming that he was out cold, offered a hand to Joon. “You alright?”
Joon breathed an internal sigh of relief when someone else, a vigilante of sorts by the look of it, appeared on the scene. He hadn’t had a strong opinion about vigilantes before this point but the only thing running through his mind at the moment was, “Thank God”. This relief brought on more relief, as the fear took a backseat in his emotional roster. Relief was definitely a better feeling to give off than fear.
All thankfulness and relief left him when he realized what was happening. The gun, which had left him briefly, was now pressed to the back of his head and he froze completely. Even his heart seemed to skip a beat. He seemed to be hyper-aware of his surroundings and also completely lost at the same time. The words that the mugger and the vigilante were exchanging sounded like they were coming through a hollow tube.
Before Joon could process what happened next, the gun was no longer pointed at him (or anyone else for that matter) and he had been knocked on his ass. He squinted at the hand that was offered to him and looked around for the mugger. The mugger, an unwashed looking older man, was knocked out cold on the sidewalk next to him and he breathed an actual sigh of relief.
“Thanks,” He said genuinely, his voice rough from lingering fear, and took the hand, “Though I’m pretty sure he would have left if I’d just given him my backpack.”
He didn’t mean to seem unthankful, he just didn’t want any future trouble from the man. Especially since they were only about two blocks from his apartment now.
“This way you get to keep your backpack,” Ashby replied with a shrug, letting whatever hesitant gratitude roll off his back. Wonderlands, now this—he was used to it. He was careful to take the hand gently and pulled him back up to his feet, “so you’re welcome.”
While still gripping his hand, Ashby looked the civilian over. This kid looked fifteen, maybe sixteen tops. Like someone who would be found studying at home rather than wandering the streets and getting mugged at this time of night. Ashby let go and looked around to make sure there wasn’t anything else important that had been knocked to the floor, but it was just some littered trash. And the mugger.
“What’s your name?” he asked, sparing a glance before he took out his phone to text the rest of his group their coordinates. Someone would swing by to take care of the mugger sooner or later. Once the text sent he pocketed his phone again and reached for the backpack. “Where do you live? Come on, I’ll take you home.”
Joon blushed slightly at vigilante’s reply, and prayed that it was too dark to be noticed. His hand felt strangely hard when Joon gripped it, but he didn’t ask about it lest he stick his foot in his mouth again.
“I’m sorry,” He apologized automatically, “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. Really, I am very grateful. Thank you for saving me.”
He cringed at how that last part sounded, however true it might be. For good measure, he tried to let his gratefulness roll off of him, hoping that it would reach his mysterious saviour. He was very glad to be able to keep his backpack (and by extension his cash, his headphones and his laptop), and he was definitely very glad to be alive. But the gratefulness gave way to a slight feeling of anxiety as he noticed the other man giving him a once-over.
“Oh that’s….” Joon trailed off, not wanting to seem ungrateful again but also pretty sure that he could make the remaining two blocks back to his place safely, “Well, okay if you’re sure? I live just a couple of blocks from here. You can just call me Joon, if you like, what can I call you?”
Ashby slung the backpack over a shoulder and grinned, corners of his mouth pulled wide. “Easy,” he chided, though his smile made it clear that he was only joking now, “I wasn’t being passive aggressive before. You can cut back on the Ps and Qs.” The sudden amount of gratitude was causing the back of his neck to prickle, and he tugged his scarf a little tighter.
“Nice to save you, Joon,” he replied, nodding at the introduction. “Lead the way?” With a wave of his hand he gestured for Joon to start, and followed his lead back to wherever home was located. “Most people call me Jabberwock.” There was only a slight wince of offense. The Wonderlands hadn’t been that big, and most of them didn’t wear costumes so people could easily identify them.
He had stuck with black. It was simple, intimidating. “You can call me Ashby if that’s less weird. I’m not walking you back to steal from your house or anything either. I’m from the FCF, so you don’t have to worry about me,” he said wryly, pointing at where he assumed the tracker was embedded.
Joon’s blushed darkened as he was all but lectured by the vigilante for overdoing the gratitude. He really had to learn to find the balance between polite and too much. But he didn’t reply only looked down with a sheepish look on his face.
“Uh sure,” He looked up again when the man introduced himself as the Jabberwock and started walking towards his building at an easy pace. The slight wince was not overlooked, but Joon had no idea what it meant. New Waverly and all its quirks were still a little new to him, before he’d moved here he’d never dreamed of actually meeting a real life vigilante. He knew they existed, of course, he just thought that that was a little outside his personal realm of possibility.
“Ashby, is a little less weird than Jabberwock,” He admitted. Codenames were still a little beyond him, though he did wonder if maybe he shouldn’t know this man’s secret identity so soon after meeting him. His question was answered soon enough and his eyes widened a little, involuntarily.
“Damn, That sucks.” The breath that he let out was more than audible in the silence of the night, “I mean, I wasn’t worried that you were a stalker or anything but isn’t that kind of intrusive?” He gestured in the general direction of Ashby’s head. And though he was curious, he did not ask how he got it. His parents raised him better than that.
“What—the tracker?” Ashby paused as his eyes flickered to Joon’s hand and to where it was pointing. He couldn’t exactly see his own head though, so he shrugged and resumed walking. “It is what it is, and it was better than staying in prison.” Most of the time it was like life was normal, other times he couldn’t tell if he was imagining the beeping behind his eyes.
Probably a little to personal to share in an introductory conversation, so he went for a smile instead. “Still not going to rob you blind though, promise.” He wasn’t too concerned with sharing that he’d been jailed before. Joon didn’t seem well-versed with the heroism scene in New Waverly, which was probably normal for most of the public, but anyone could look up his codename and learn the gritty details. No use in trying to hide it.
“What were you doing out this late anyway?” Once they crossed the street Ashby slowed down and looked at the apartment complexes down the block. “And where exactly is your place? Anyone waiting for you at home?”
“Relax,” Joon actually chuckled as Ashby brought up robbery again, “I really didn’t think you were that kind of guy at all. But now that you’ve mentioned it ten times it’s making me a little suspicious.” He paused, shocked at his own joke before speaking again, “That was a joke by the way, I still don’t actually think you’d rob me. Lots of people go to prison for the wrong reason.”
He didn’t push the topic, but he wanted to let Ashby know that there was no judgement on his part. He might not have been in New Waverly for long, but he’d been in America long enough to know that not everyone who goes to jail was a bad person. Actually, that could be said for any part of the world, really. He wasn’t too concerned about it.
“I’m a DJ so I work really late at clubs, this is actually not an unusual time for me to be walking around. I just don’t usually get jumped, most people are asleep at this time. Even muggers,” Joon explained, it was surprisingly easy to talk to Ashby, although maybe it was just cause his brain was too exhausted to be anxious, “I live alone. My family lives overseas so it’s pretty much just me over here.”
Joon wasn’t lonely, per se, but when he said it aloud like that he really did miss being around his family and his best friend.
The joke caught him by enough surprise that a laugh stumbled from his mouth. “Thanks,” Ashby replied, eyes crinkling, “you’re not too bad either.”
He did an actual double take though when Joon revealed he had been working at a club. “You? A DJ?” His eyebrow arched, expression laden with amused skepticism. At least he looked the part of a former inmate in his get up. Giving Joon a once over only seemed to affirm his assumption that he was a student studying for an upcoming exam or something.
“Nah.” Ashby shook his head, smile slanting into more of a smirk, “you’re kidding,” There were stranger things out there, he supposed. Come to think of it, he followed a handful of DJs online that were much younger than he was—and he was only twenty-two.
“That must be lonely,” he sympathized. He could understand the feeling. The FCF weren’t bad to him, tracker and kill switch aside, but they were an entirely different team than the Wonderlands. He missed them. “It’s nice having the place to yourself though. So what do you do during the day after catching up on sleep? Or are you a vampire and never sleep?”
The corner of Joon’s lip twitched in slight frustration, but not enough for it to stick. He could not count the number of times he’d gotten that when people happened to get a glimpse of his full face. When he was at Harvard, he was frequently asked if he’d lost his high-school tour group. When he informed them otherwise, they almost always had that same look that Ashby had on his face right now.
Joon shook his head, “I’m serious. You should come to one of my shows.”
Ashby’s joke coaxed a laugh out of Joon and a smile lit up his face, “Actually during the day I just make… more music. I mix tracks for my blog and I review music from time to time. I should probably get a day job but…” he trailed off with a shrug, “I don’t really like being around a lot of people.”
It seemed a little soon to admit that he had a power he didn’t really know how to control, so he just kept silent about it.
He lifted his shoulders in another shrug. Ashby himself had never held down a regular nine-to-five job. There weren’t a lot of places around that were willing to hire superhumans, and even less that forgave his hands’ lack of finesse. “Hey, you’ve already got a night job, and some of us have to be the ones who work while the moon is out, for people who need music to party to or for people who need punching.”
As he talked they stopped in front of a building that he assumed was Joon’s apartment, so he held out Joon’s backpack for him to reclaim. The thing had felt next to weightless, and he mentally patted himself on the back for remembering to keep his grip on it.
“Besides,” he started again, smiling, “I think it’s cool you’re that into music. I’d go to one of your shows. Do you have a set schedule? Or should I wait until you’re getting cornered for your paycheck again?”
Joon’s eyes widened in surprise, “You get paid to do this?”
He really didn’t know much about the government programs, but he was aware that some members of the Stars & Stripes held jobs outside of the organization. He’d assumed that they didn’t treat their other programs quite as well. As they slowed to a stop in front of his building he paused awkwardly, not really knowing if he should thank the guy a third time or what exactly. Thankfully, he was saved as Ashby continued to speak.
“I actually don’t really have a schedule, it varies from week to week,” Joon smiled back, “But I could text you when I find out where I’m playing next? But don’t feel obligated to come if you’ve got to do your superhero thing.”
“Huh?” His brows lowered back down once he realized Joon was referring to the whole job statement. Ashby had mostly been using it as substitute for working in general, but now that he thought about it, “Yeah, now I do. Almost enough to get by, too, with how generous the government is.” He laughed under his breath at his own joke, and now that his hands were free he tucked them back into his pockets.
“Sure,” he answered, cocking his head to the side as he looked at Joon, lopsided grin plastered over his face, “you can have my number.” He waited until Joon was ready with his phone before he leaned over and rattled off his digits. After checking that it was right, he stepped back and gave a casual salute. “Text me when you find out, or whenever. And thanks for the walk, Joon, it was fun meeting you.”