Adventures in Parodyverse: Snowed In Part 2


    Snow poured down over an already covered old cemetary in Gothametropolis, one that had been deserted since the icy storm poured in hours ago.  Mostly deserted, anyway.  A single soul in a black trenchcoat braved the cold and wet, because he had something he had to do.

    He lit a cigarette with fingerless gloves, and before the match went out, he uncorked a glass vial trapped in his palm.  He threw the liquid in the vial to the ground, and then flicked the match toward it.  He took two deep drags on his cigarette before the match landed.

    There was a muted ‘whoom’ under the snow somewhere, and a flickering of red.  A white mist rose from where the glow had occurred.  And then the snow began to move.

    A naked female emerged from beneath the deep snow, one with glowing white eyes, and no pupils.  The female shivered, and then coughed deeply as she stood.  She two two steps toward the man in the trenchcoat, and slapped the cigarette out of his mouth.

    He didn’t seem too disturbed by that.  He traded her the slap for a plastic bag of folded laundry tossed her direction.  She didn’t catch it, so it fell onto the snow.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Why did you summon me?”  she asked in a whispered voice.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Brought you some clothing, love,”  he said in a british accent.  “You’ll freeze without it.  You can change in there, no one will notice.”  He pointed at an above ground tomb.  

    The female with long black hair grabbed the bag angrily and stomped over to the tomb.  She moved the stone door by barely touching it, and entered.  

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I summoned you because I needed an angel, love,”  he said.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’m not an angel,”  she growled from inside the tomb.  Then she came out dressed in a body-hugging black bodysuit, and leather boots, and a heavy bright red coat with a hood.  

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Where did you find these clothes?”  she complained.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“The red riding hood look suits you, love.”  He lit another cigarette, and blew some of the smoke her direction.

      She grabbed him hard by the throat, lifting him off of his feet, so his cigarette fell into the snow.  “Con Johnstantine, I told you I’d kill you if you ever summoned me again.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Unless it was life or death,”  he choked.  “And it is.  For Sir Mumphrey.”

    She let him go abruptly, and dropped him to the snow.  Then she went from confident and angry to worried.  “Sir Mumphrey Wilton?  What’s wrong with him?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Nothing an angel can’t fix, love,”  he said.

    Angrily, she lunged at him again, and he suddenly took a step back.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“A Mollok.  Nothing a Mullok can’t fix,”  he corrected.  

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Would you just call me Shai?”  she asked.  “Sir Mumphrey does.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Okay, but it doesn’t quite have the same ring as angel,”  he said as he nearly lit another cigarette.  “Oh, one more thing, love.  I have to meet you there.  We can’t be seen together.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What?”  she asked, sounding really irritated now.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’ve been dating a demon,”  he said.  “She finds out I’ve even been talking to you--”

    Shai slapped him again.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I...wasn’t smoking,”  he protested.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Shut up,”  She warned him.  “Just...shut up.”

    With that, a pair of nearly transparent ethereal wings unfolded through Shai’s clothing to nearly twice her size, and her skin began glowing a matching blue.  She slowly drifted airborne, and then with a powerful flap of those wings, rocketed into the snowy sky.
    

---


    Lara Night appeared in a flash of light in the dimly lit hallways of the old Foundation building in Gothametropolis.  She knew its pathways well, having visited there a few times, but every time she visited memories flooded back of how many times she found herself lost in the labyrinth.

    The building itself was actually a collection of buildings, melded together over the decades, as ones next door, sharing walls, became vacant and were purchased by the Foundation’s board.  At one point in its history it was the primary shelter, charity, and chapel for the poor and struggling in the area.  Recent times, however, were hard on donations, and the building fell into ruin.

    Hatman was instrumental in finding money, and donated labor and materials, as well as motivating a few hardy and determined people to bring the building and its purpose back to life.  Now, it was maintained to be safe, and secure from the weather, but perpetually unfinished and under construction as resources trickled in.

    She stood in one of the completed sections, on the third floor, where Hatman kept a small apartment.  The floor and paint were new, but the lighting needed updating - it was sufficient, but bare flickering florescent fixtures that weren’t very bright.  The windows were ancient too, having been sealed, but still admitting a fair amount of icy cold from outside through their panes, causing the ancient steam heating system to struggle to keep up.

    In her soft suede strapped boots, jeans, and red sweater, she walked purposefully and silently to Hatman’s apartment door.  He did occasionally have a sense of humor, she noted - the plain steel door was marked only by a magnet of a cartoon red fedora.  Purchased, rather than custom made, he found it somewhere and thought it would be funny to stick on his door.

    Lara tapped on the door gently, and then waited.  She was worried, a little scared, of what he would say, since she hadn’t spoken to him since the incident at the prison.  But since her teenage years, she had always been able to set aside her fear and force herself to head straight into scary situations, and this one was minor by comparison to most.

    The door opened, and Lara’s heart leaped both from worry and happiness at seeing him.  She thought her expression must have betrayed some of those feelings, since Hatman’s first reaction to her was to take her hand, pull her into the apartment, and hug her tightly.  And he didn’t let go of her right away, he continued to hold her.  She closed her eyes, and kept them closed the whole time.

    She was also happy to see him because of the nightmares she had after the death of Doorman.  That she saw Hatman the day after, and she couldn’t control herself from feeling that same rage again, and killing him, too.  She saw him die by her own hand a half-dozen times.

    Lara was so happy to see that it was just a dream that she held her body tightly against his, just to feel the warmth and know that he was still alive.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh hell, I’m sorry,”  she finally babbled when she realized what she was doing, and that it wasn’t a dream.  She stepped back to put some space between them.  “I’m really embarrassed now.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“No, it’s ok,”  he said, smiling nervously.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You’re not angry with me for what I’ve done?”  she asked.

    He shook his head.  “No.  I went through all my feelings already when I heard about it from Yuki.  My first thought was to feel relief, and to feel happy.  And then I felt a little ashamed for feeling that about someone’s death.  So I guess I’m almost as guilty as you are.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh.”  Lara whispered quietly.  “I...kind of steeled myself for self defense.  I’m happy I don’t have to now.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“No.  You can go back to hugging me instead, if you want.”  He blurted that out without really thinking, and then his smile disappeared.  “I can’t believe I just said that.”

    This time, Lara smiled briefly.  “You actually liked it?”

    He nodded.  “Is that a surprise?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah, it is,”  Lara replied.  “I thought you’d be embarrassed and awkward.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You’re still a cute blonde,”  he said.  “Anyone would want a hug from you.”

    Lara looked a mixture of happy and embarrassed to hear that.  She smiled, but blushed a bit too.  “You never called me ‘cute’ before.  Thank you.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“No big deal,”  he shrugged.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“No, it is a big deal,”  she insisted.  “I...haven’t gotten much positive attention from guys lately.  Not for a long while.  You deserved that hug with us touching.  You can touch anything you like.”

    He laughed slightly, and smiled.  “Are you sure you want to go around saying something like that?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hmmm, no, I guess not.”  she laughed too, and looked more embarrassed.  “I trust your judgement, though.”

    She picked up her cell phone, which had been buzzing, and checked the text messages.  She got one from Yuki saying the police had been to the Lair Mansion, and that the Gothametropolis cops were probably on their way to where she was.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Uh-oh,”  she whispered.  She showed the phone to Hatman, too.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh,”  he responded.  “Mac will know to keep them busy, if they show up here.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Mac is here?”  she asked.

    He nodded.  “A lot of my volunteers called in sick, there’s a flu going around.  His mission had plenty of staff, so he came here to volunteer with a couple of his people.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“We should go into the bedroom in case the police come and walk around the building.  They can’t hear me through the door.”  Without waiting for an answer, Lara headed into the bedroom.

    Hatman followed her in, and shut the door.  He wasn’t the least bit wary of following her in there.  She has always been respectful of his beliefs and sensibilities.  He watched her jump onto the bed to sit cross-legged and play with her phone again.  “What are you doing?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I can’t hide forever.  I’m going to call Arnie Armbruster and see if he can help.”

    He approached her from behind, and started gently massaging her shoulders.  “Don’t be so tense, Lara.  Don’t worry, Yuki and Sir Mumphrey will figure it out.  Besides, Arnie is probably passed out drunk at this time of night.”

    Lara put down her cell phone, closed her eyes, tilted her head slightly, and sighed, enjoying the deep shoulder massage.  “This is nice,”  she whispered.  “You’re really good at this.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’ve been on a few dates,”  he casually explained.

    She smiled contently at that, and the massage.  “I’d happily live with you if I could have this every night.”

    He laughed, and continued rubbing her shoulders.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’m totally serious,”  she droned softly,  “I’d move in over this.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“If you lived with me, I might need more than that,”  he pointed out.

    She leaned over to look at him, and raised an eyebrow silently.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Like kids,”  he teased, since he knew she didn’t want any at this point in her life.  She mentioned that a few times.

    Lara rolled her eyes, and turned back around to enjoy her massage.  Her bliss was interrupted, though, by a loud knock at the apartment door.  She turned around again and looked wide-eyed at Hatman.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’ll go see who it is,”  he said.  He walked out of the room, and there was a tense silence for a few minutes while he was gone.

    When he returned, he came back with Mac Fleetwood.  Lara was at least relieved it was him, but also worried because he was supposed to be delaying the cops.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What happened to the police?”  she asked.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“They’re not here yet.”  he said.  “I need your help, quickly.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“My help?”  she asked.

    He grabbed her arm and urged her to follow.  “I have to explain on the way.”

    As Mac told the story, while Lara and Hatman hurried to follow, there was a woman in the shelter who was very pregnant.  And true to form, when there’s someone very pregnant, they usually wait for the worst snowstorm of the winter to deliver.

    So Mac moved the woman, her husband, and their daughter to one of the new apartments temporarily.  They had somewhere to live, but it was a slum, and the landlord wouldn’t fix the broken heat.  That’s why they came to the shelter.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“So why me?”  Lara asked.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Thought I’d give a woman a chance this time,”  Mac replied.  “Apparently men tend to faint delivering babies.”  He looked directly at Hatman.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I didn’t faint, I just got a little dizzy.  And it was hot in the room!”  he protested.  “You actually did faint.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“And I’m man enough to admit it!”  Mac admitted.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What if I faint?”  Lara asked.  “I’ve never even tried this before.  Why can’t I teleport her to the hospital?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“They don’t have money for a hospital.”

    That last response sobered Lara quickly.  She was back to that mood she learned back when she was a teenager - set every thought and fear aside and just go.

    Mac opened the door to an apartment that was one floor down and at the other end of the hall from Hatman’s.  He looked at Lara, and said, “Looks like you’re going to have to learn fast.”

    As soon as she entered, Mac handed her a smock that looked like a long blue plastic dress with sleeves.  He waited until she scrubbed her hands, and then he slipped latex gloves on her hand.  Then it was time for Lara to meet the family.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“This is Gwen,”  Mac introduced her to the daughter first.  “She’s six.  The man chewing off his fingernails in the kitchen is the husband, Tom.  The mom is named Deena.  Come here Gwen, stay in the kitchen with daddy.”

    The nine year old girl standing in the doorway, watching her mom struggle, sweat, and pant, lying on the floor of the living room, turned around, but didn’t really obey.

    Lara had an idea.  She stopped in front of the girl.  “Gwen, I’m going to help your mom, but I need your help.  Wash up really good in the kitchen, and get Mac to put some gloves on you.  Okay?”

    The girl nodded quickly, and ran over to the sink.

    Lara sat cross-legged on the floor just about where the mom’s legs were folded up and held close together.  She was breathing quickly, her heart racing, but she took some solace in the fact that Deena probably felt just about the same, only probably with a lot more pain and embarrassment.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I think I should check to see if the cops are here,”  Hatman said, in the kitchen.  But he never actually left, because he was transfixed by the scene.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Deena, I’ve never done this before, but you have.  So I need your help too,”  Lara said.  And more quietly, “I’ve seen this on TV though, so we’ll see how it goes.”

    Though Lara didn’t mean that as a joke, the mom laughed briefly, nervously, between panting.  She looked downward toward the blonde.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I think I know why you’re holding your legs together.  It’s coming out now, isn’t it?”  Lara asked.

    Deena nodded quickly between quick breaths.

    The blonde then noticed the little girl, Gwen, come running back in wearing gloves.  “Gwen, I need wet towels, lots of them.  And I need you to hold them for me.”

    The little girl ran back out of the room again.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Okay.”  Lara steeled herself, and gently pried open Deena’s legs.  She started to shake, herself, when she realized that the process was much further along than she thought.  She bit her tongue, figuring if she said what she was thinking out loud, she might worry the mom some more.  Besides, she felt like vomiting from the nervousness, and was afraid if she opened her mouth, she just might.  Instead she took a deep breath, and whispered ‘Okay’ again with the exhale.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I think you know what you need to do now,”  she said carefully, her eyes transfixed on Deena’s, giving her emotional support.  “I’m right here.  I’ll catch the baby, I’ll make sure it’s safe.”  She kept eye contact with the mom, as best as she could, periodically flicking her eyes downward quickly to check on the task at hand.

    Then Deena let out a long scream that Lara was sure would leave her deaf for hours, and shatter every window in the building.  The screaming seemed to last forever.  Lara kept blinking and trying to breathe, trying to mentally manage the noise and the mess and the fact that things were happening quickly, and there was no break for resting and gathering thoughts.
    
    And just like that, Lara was holding a tiny baby, and the smock was covered completely in slippery fluid.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Scissors...knife.  I need one.”  Lara quickly said, once she realized the baby needed to be freed from its cord.  “I’ve seen this on TV,”  she reassured herself as she used her fingers to clear the baby’s airway.  “I can get through this.”

    Just then, the baby screeched, and Deena started to laugh.  And Gwen appeared just in time with a brand-new pair of first aid scissors, and a stack of warm, damp towels.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Bless you, Gwen, you saved the day.”  Lara complimented her, though her voice was wavering to match her own shaking.

    The girl seemed very happy to be told that.

    And then there was a loud thump from the kitchen as the father collapsed to the floor.


----


    It was a short time later when Hatman returned to his apartment after chatting with Mac.  They were planning a strategy of what to tell the police if and when they arrived.  While he was away, Lara used the shower in Hatman’s apartment to clean herself up.

    He walked in and looked around, but the living room and kitchen areas were empty.  He continued walking through, where the bathroom was empty too, but was steamy like someone recently showered.

    Finally, he found Lara lying flat on the bed, with damp hair, like she had just showered, looking at the ceiling, with her shirt pulled partway up and both hands splayed out on her stomach.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What are you doing?”  he asked, as he slid onto the bed beside her carefully, as not to disturb her too much.

    She didn’t even flinch when he sat down.  Instead, she started a conversation like she had been waiting for him to show up.  “I could actually hold a life in here,”  she said.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You always could, I thought,”  he answered.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I mean...”  she shook her head, sure that he didn’t understand the context she was speaking of.  “...did you see the size of that baby?  I held it in my hands.  It looked small in my hands, I mean, but...it could fit in here.”

    Hatman didn’t say anything, because the first comment that came to mind was really crude.  He made a mental note to ask Dream to stop talking like that around him.  And then he thought to himself that he shouldn’t have thought about Dream, because in the context of Lara, it just annoyed him and made him feel jealous.

    Instead, he distracted himself by placing his left hand between Lara’s, on her stomach.

    Lara removed her right hand, reached up while he was touching her, and held it just ahead of his ear.  A spark jumped the gap noisily with a ‘pop’.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Ow...what was that for?”  he asked.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You were grounded to me, it’s safe,”  she said with a slight smile.  “Sorry, I guess I thought it would be funnier.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“It was okay.  Just surprised me.”  He rubbed his ear carefully.  “So what are you plans tonight?  I was thinking about turning in early, with all that snow out there is bound to make for a lot of work tomorrow.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I don’t know.”  She sat up, and her smile faded.  “I don’t think I can sleep with all those nightmares about the prison.  Maybe I should find something to do until I’m more tired.”

    Then she had a flash of memory, and thought out loud.  “Wow...last time I was this traumatized, I took a shower and Dream--”  She stopped herself when she remembered who she was talking to, and how he might react.

    As she predicted, her thinking out loud was like nails on a chalkboard to Hatman.  He winced, and turned to look at Lara.  He wasn’t aware of the irritation his eyes were expressing, but Lara saw it.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sorry,”  she whispered.  “I didn’t think you were still so jealous about that.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’s not jealousy,”  he protested.  “Why does he get to...?”  Then he thought about it and changed his mind.  “Okay, maybe it is, mostly, but it’s not the only thing.”

    She slid over closer to him, sitting up cross-legged, and placed her hand on his back.  “Why does it matter?  You and me have a lot of our own kind of fun together, and we’re happy.  Why does it matter, what Dream and me do to have fun and be happy?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Because people ask me about it,”  he pointed out.  “I’m right in the middle of it.  I’m used to making excuses for Dream, but you too?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“So laugh it off,”  she suggested.  “Don’t make excuses for me.  Tell people I’m kind of a wild girl, and let them ask me.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You are kind of a wild girl,”  he agreed, trying to keep a straight face.  But he couldn’t stay serious, and he laughed.

    Lara watched him smile, and then she decided how she was going to make him happy again.  She stretched her legs out, and pulled off her suede boots.  

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“How about if I sleep over tonight?”  she asked.  “You’ll know where I am and what I’m doing, and I’ll have some company so I won’t have nightmares.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You don’t have to do that.  Actually, it might be kind of awkward.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Why?”  she asked.  “We’ve fallen asleep watching TV together before.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Because I’m thinking about--”  He stopped himself, and quickly rephrased, sounding a little ashamed to say it.  “Never mind.  It’s not important.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Pfft.  I’m calling your bluff.”  Lara shrugged, and smiled slightly as she slipped under the covers.

    He gave up, figuring he wasn’t going to even try win that argument.  She was a wild girl, and he secretly liked it...it brought a little spice into his life.  But it also brought a little stress.  He secretly enjoyed giving in to her whim as he crawled into the covers, too.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Thanks for the company,”  she whispered to him as she drifted off.


TO BE CONTINUED?
    


-- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2013 by Jason Froikin, and may not be 
--    reprinted without permission.