For the first time in a while, Zack felt good. It was an unconventional good; realistically he knew he’d done some bad things, but the whole evening was a blur. He’d fought a Senshi and hurt him, badly, but that wasn’t what was important. What was important was that, for the first time since he’d lost Evan, he felt okay.

He was able to rationalize that the end justified the means; who cared what happened to a Senshi? They deserved it, they were always winning. He hadn’t been able to pay one back for the Invasion yet, so that’s all this was. Basically.

It was the start of a long lie he was prepared to tell himself, if the grief ever sunk in.

Except, it didn’t. He didn’t care what happened to the Senshi and, once he’d made it back to his office all he could focus on was how good it felt to eat something. He’d had a few granola bars shoved into the drawer of his desk, and a water bottle. He helped himself to one of each and snuggled into the plush chair. He was sore and tired, but it was different than before.

He’d been exhausted, physically drained. Hell, he’d spent nearly two days on the floor in one form or another. That wasn’t refreshing.

He was tired, but in a way that made him know that tonight was going to be a good night’s sleep.

And, it was.

For the first time since he’d lost Evan, he didn’t have nightmares. He was able to relax, able to let himself drift off into restfulness.

When he awoke in the morning, he’d been refreshed. He didn’t think about the Senshi he’d left beaten and dying in some corner of the City he didn’t know if anyone would even think to look. All he could think about was how much better he felt.

Good enough to realize that coffee and breakfast sounded like heaven.

He had stayed powered up for days; he’d powered down once in his office after he’d first gotten in last night but powered up again shortly afterwards. This, though, felt like a snake shedding its skin and swapping in a new one.

In Destiny City, it was still early in the day. He’d made it to a café in time for brunch. A coffee and sandwich later and he found himself settling down in a nice booth in the corner. It was only then, when his feet were propped up on the other bench that he pulled out his phone.

He pressed a few buttons, but each was met with the same result. It took a few seconds for him to realize the phone was dead.

He hadn’t realized he’d been out for long enough for it to die but it didn’t matter much; he had a portable charger and withdrew it. He let his phone charge on the table while he leaned back and people watched for a minute. His attention was eventually focused on the television—some news channel. It was the same old boring thing and he didn’t pay attention to much other than the date.

Days had passed; he wasn’t worried, but he figured he needed to start figuring out a lie to tell his boss—and Cambria.

He was halfway through his sandwich and nearly finished with the coffee when the phone turned on.

He didn’t look at it—until it started vibrating violently on top of the table. He lifted it, perplexed and annoyed, and thinking there must be some glitch

Forty three missed texts. Nearly as many missed calls. A dozen and a half voicemails.

He went for the text messages first; a quick scan. A few from his friends, a few from his parents. Most from Cambria. He held his breath and scanned them first—nothing bad, at first. She was worried about him, Evan was back, where was he, Evan was back, what was going on, Evan was back.

Zack had a lump in his throat, a mixture of elation and strain. There wasn’t much information in the texts; he ignored the few from his parents. They’d left voice messages—probably telling him to call Cambria back or something. He ignored them and went straight to hers.

Evan was back, come home. Where are you, is everything okay. Miss you, I love you. I don’t know if you’re getting my messages, please contact me as soon as possible.

The same things as the text messages—short and to the point, only he could hear her voice and how worried she was and he felt guilty.

The second to last message was different than the ones before it. He couldn’t make out the words at first—or, maybe, he just needed that second listen to process.

Malcolm, his brother, in the hospital. Broken bones, attacked. His parents were on the way. She needed him.

She needed him.

Zack hadn’t even really had a family crisis, and he certainly wasn’t close enough to his brother for this to really resonate with him—but he was family, and the idea of someone hurting his family, or of making Cambria so upset, sent him into action. He was already climbing out of the booth as he played the message for a third time to get the hospital name. He left the booth with his coffee and sandwich in hand; he’d finished them both by the time he reached the front door.

The phone was still nestled in the crook of his neck as he listened again. He was out the door and on his way to the nearest alleyway to power up before he’d even made it to his parents’ messages.