Fuck.

That was the first thing that came to [Y/N]'s mind as they saw the two men standing in front of the house that was going to be their new foster home. The third one since they got into the system, to be specific.

Just like the other two, this home was also experienced with fostering children. This made [Y/N] feel a bit more calm, since that meant they knew how to do parenting, and they were good foster parents according to the other children who lived with them before.

As the car pulled to the side of the street, Mrs. Davies gave them a reassuring smile.

"I promise you, Simon and John are really sweet people and excellent foster parents. You'll love them." She turned off the engine and tossed her dark brown hair over her shoulder. "Now, stay in the car for a minute, sweetheart; I need to quickly discuss something with them. Y'know, just last-minute stuff." She laughed loudly as she got out of the car, and [Y/N] smiled a little out of politeness.

They were used to the loud and energetic personality of Mrs. Davies. She was sweet and caring, and was so dedicated to her job, but after too much time spent with her, [Y/N] would get exhausted even though they were extremely grateful for what she'd done for them.

Mrs. Davies was now talking to the two men. One of them had light brown, blondish hair, but that wasn't the first thing that [Y/N] noticed.

Scars. 

There were many for only one person, and they weren't minor ones either. There was one in particular that caught [Y/N]'s eye: the one that crossed his mouth and reached up to his right cheek, under his eye. They were warned about what Simon looked like, but it was still shocking and it was hard not to stare, especially since they had no idea where he got them from. When they asked Mrs. Davies, she just laughed and said that she has no idea, and that it's none of her business anyway.

As [Y/N] looked at the other man, they couldn't help but smile to themselves as they saw his hair. They knew he had a mohawk, but it was funnier in real life, also surprisingly cool. John was smiling as he listened to Mrs. Davies, looking really happy and excited, unlike Simon, who just stood there without showing any emotions and just nodded from time to time. [Y/N] felt a bit uneasy at the thought that they had to live with a guy like Simon for a few months or even a year. He didn't look like the type to tolerate any kind of trouble, and it wasn't lucky, since [Y/N] was often referred to as the 'trouble-maker' or 'problem-kid'.

The three of them stopped talking, and Mrs. Davies came back to the car, opening the door.

"Alright, hun, come on, get your stuff!" She was still smiling, and [Y/N] quickly grabbed their backpack and a bag with all their stuff in it, then walked up to the two men.

"Hey [Y/N], nice meetin' ye! John MacTavish, but feel free tae call me Johnny." He stuck his hand out for a handshake, and [Y/N], just wanting to make a good first impression, shook it, smiling slightly at him. They then shook hands with Simon, who was much less talkative.

"Simon Riley, nice to meet you." He didn't even smile, but as [Y/N] looked into his eyes for a moment, they saw some warmth in them, which meant that they were welcome. It made them feel a bit more comfortable.

"Come on in, we'll show ye the house an' yer room." John— no, Johnny grinned at them as he made a gesture, inviting them inside. All four of them entered. 

The house was a typical townhouse that you can find all over London but it was nice. It had big windows, so it was really bright and lively. [Y/N] liked it.

"Liz, can I get ye a coffee?" Johnny turned to Mrs. Davies, who just chuckled and waved her hands in a shooing gesture.

"Well, thank you, darling, but I've already had three of them this day, and that's plenty," she joked and laughed.

"Can I get ye anything?" He turned to [Y/N], who was just awkwardly standing there with bags in their hands.

"No, thank you." They smiled politely. Simon probably noticed their state because he coughed a little, and when [Y/N] looked in his direction, he spoke.

"C'mon, I'll show you your room while Johnny discusses a few more things with Liz." [Y/N] just nodded and followed him upstairs without saying a word. The house was nice; it had a simple design and some photos and paintings on the walls, which made it feel cozy.

Simon opened a door in the landing and gestured so [Y/N] would enter. As they did, looking around in the room that was equipped with the necessary furniture only, he leaned on the door frame and spoke.

"It's really basic, but we figured that you would like to decorate it in your style. There are two bathrooms, one downstairs and one up here; our room is downstairs, and the two offices are up here as well. We don't have much rules, and what we do have are pretty obvious, like don't do drugs, don't break anything or anyone, and so on. Any questions?"

"No." [Y/N] said, shaking their head. "Thank you."

"Of course." He smiled a little — the first one ever since [Y/N] got there — and left. 

They just stood there, staring at the door for a moment before putting their belongings down and sitting on the bed. They stared at the wall, thinking about the two men. Johnny looked okay, but Simon sent chills down their spine. They had a strange déjà vu, but they couldn't place the feeling anywhere. 

Mrs. Davies left within an hour, after she made sure that everything went alright. [Y/N] said their goodbyes and was left alone with their two new foster parents.

They turned back and looked at the two men who looked back at them, just staring. 

"Alright, I'd like to hear some stuff about you guys, because I don't know anything other than your names." Johnny chuckled at that and Simon smiled.

"Okay, let's sit down in the livin' room, no?" The Scottish one suggested, and they all walked there and got a bit more comfortable. Johnny grinned and encouraged them with a nod.

"Ask away, kid."

[Y/N] hummed before asking their first question.

"What do you do for a living? If it's not a too personal question, of course."

"It's not." Johnny smiled. "We're both police officers, or some kind of thing like that."

"What do you mean 'some kind of thing like that?'"

"Ugh, it's complicated." The Scottish waved his hand and huffed. "I'd rather not get intae it."

[Y/N] nodded and smiled, but something felt a little off. If they were a small child, they'd have understood that answer, because that meant 'adult stuff'. But they were a sixteen-year-old teenager, who was capable of understanding much more than a small kid. They didn't push the subject though and just moved onto the next question.

"Simon said that your rules were just basic ones, but I want to hear them anyways because 'basic' is different for everyone."

"Of course, of course!" Johnny nodded and started explaining. "Obviously dinnae damage anything, dinnae sneak out, dinnae take drugs or alcohol."

"We heard that you're doing okay regarding your grades, so we'd appreciate it if you kept that up," Simon continued. "If you need help, you can turn to us. Johnny is especially good at physics and chemistry; he can explain anything." Johnny rolled his eyes at that, smiled, and continued.

"And know that if anythin' happens, ye can talk tae us."

[Y/N] nodded and smiled.

"Thank you. Just one last question." They stopped for a moment, gathering their thoughts. "Mrs. Davies said that my foster parent is Simon, and he has custody but Johnny doesn't. Why is that?"

"Because we're not married, nor in a relationship." Simon was the one who answered, and [Y/N] felt surprised. They were sure that the two were boyfriends, but looks like they were wrong. "We live together to split housing financies. We've been like this for years now, and since none of us has any problems with it, we're just stuck this way," he explained.

[Y/N] just nodded. Yet another lie. They saw the little gestures: hands brushing, quick glances, sweet smiles (even from Simon). It was obvious that the two were in a romantic relationship, but for some reason, they were hiding it, and [Y/N] wasn't interested enough to try and find out more. At least not right now.

They chatted for a little longer, and [Y/N] talked about themselves, their hobbies, what they do for fun, and so on. In return, they learned that Johnny liked to draw, and he was into explosives, and that Simon enjoyed reading and doing origami. 

"Oh, by the way, we both have night shifts tonight, so we'll have tae leave around 8 p.m." Johnny said during the conversation. "Dae ye feel comfortable alone in the house? Because if not, I'm sure we could find an alternative solution or—"

"It's fine," [Y/N] reassured them. "I don't mind it, really."

"Okay, but if there's anything, you can call us on the phone." Johnny smiled gently.

"But only call us if it's really important because we're not supposed to pick up," Simon added. [Y/N] found that a little bit weird, but then reminded themselves that people usually aren't supposed to use their phones during work hours, so they just brushed it off with that.

When they left, [Y/N] felt a bit relieved. They were overwhelmed with everything that happened in one day, but it was normal, and they knew that it wouldn't last long. Especially that, with the two being gone, it was easier to do what they did most of the nights: fly around in London.

What a plot twist, right? I bet you didn't see that one coming.

In a world where some had superpowers, of course people needed a license to use theirs, and even then, they were closely monitored by the government. Some people were bothered by this law; they were called 'the outlaws'. They were the ones who used their power illegally, sometimes not doing anything in particular just having fun. But some helped people, calling themselves vigilantes, which was actually incorrect, and other than them, no one bothered to call them that. They were also just outlaws.

The heroes, though, now they were something! Everyone loved them; they caught criminals and arrested outlaws with the help of their cool superpowers. They were modest, strong, and invincible, the cream of society.

[Y/N] hated them.

They thought that the heroes were arrogant and saw them abuse their position so many times that they couldn't even count it on their hands. [Y/N] was also part of the people who had some kind of superpower. They had wings.

They went out for flights every now and then, sometimes to make some graffiti, sometimes to play catch with the police, and sometimes only to do tricks in the air. Nowadays, though, they started to have more and more conflicts with the heroes. In the beginning, they seemed like unlucky moments, but as they became more frequent, [Y/N] realised that it wasn't a coincidence: the police probably reported them and the Hero Headquarters got involved.

[Y/N] scoffed as they thought about the situation. They were in an abandoned building on the outskirts of London, changing into more comfortable clothing. They had a black hoodie on and wore gloves to prevent their fingerprints from getting everywhere. They also put on a black facemask, then walked to the edge of the building and jumped out a window.

Their wings appeared as they were falling, and they flew up, flapping lazily. The wind brushed through the black feathers as the wings stretched out. [Y/N] felt adrenaline rush through their veins, and they drank the feeling of freedom like an alcoholic drinks cheap beer. It was a cloudy night, and no star was visible in the sky.

They did some quick turns and flips in the air, laughing. They felt truly upbeat, like they had absolutely no problems in their life.

That was until Soap appeared.

You see, heroes were kind of like hound dogs: they had to track down and catch people the police have failed to arrest. And [Y/N] was apparently one of those people.

As soon as they noticed the falcon-winged hero dashing towards them, they dove down to speed up and slalomed between buildings to leave him behind. They felt their heart beat in their throat as they flew through the air, and it didn't help that every time they looked back, they could see the hero get closer and closer. They did some maneuvers, but none of them helped. 

They only had a few feet between them, so there was only one option left.

After a right turn, [Y/N] started flapping their wings and quickly rose higher, until they reached the clouds. They couldn't see anything and could feel the cold air on their skin.

"Shit," they muttered as they looked around, but they didn't see the hero, which made them a bit more calm. As they were floating in the air, their wings stirring up the clouds, they started to feel more at ease, but at the same time, more and more cold.

As they decided to stay for one more minute, they suddenly heard something approaching and before they could react, Soap crashed into them with full force.

[Y/N] made a startled yell as they started falling, with Soap trying to make them stay put. They didn't know where was up and down since they were spinning and flapping like crazy.

"You're going to kill us!" They screamed, trying to get out of Soap's grasp, who had no intention of letting them go.

"Stop fighting, an' I won't!" He yelled back. Gosh, how much [Y/N] hated that Scottish accent.

They yelped and finally managed to deliver a good kick to his jaw, making him let go. It took them a moment to gain back balance, but then they continued flying. This time, they landed on the street and ran into one of the narrower alleys, making their wings dissapear. Soap wasn't able to follow them anymore.

When [Y/N] realised that they finally weren't followed, they stopped and looked around. They knew where they were, and they actually had a friend's office nearby, so they decided to pay them a visit.

When they got to an ominous-looking building, they knocked on the door. Two short knocks, one longer and another short. The door opened, and a man in a mask held a gun to their forehead. [Y/N] didn't even flinch.

"¿Contraseña?" he grunted, narrowing his eyes.

"Para prevenir el derramamiento de sangre," they said calmly. "Good to see you, Mateo."

"Good to see you too, Cuervo." It meant Raven, which was the name used by them when they were wearing the face mask, causing trouble. "Come on in." He stepped away from the door and let them inside the building. [Y/N] just nodded and walked past him.

"Is she here?" they asked, looking at the guard.

"Sí. In the basement, interrogating." He didn't even look at them; he just continued his duty.

"Gracias," they said and turned around, walking towards the said place. The guards in front of the basement door raised their guns for a moment, but when they saw who was there, they just lowered it.

"El Sin Nombre is busy," one of them spat, his voice cold.

"I thought El Sin Nombre told you guys that I can visit her, even when she's busy," [Y/N] said, looking at the guard, raising their eyebrows. The guard murmured something in Spanish before both of them stepped aside, letting them in. [Y/N] just smiled at them and walked down the stairs.

As they approached the end of the corridor, they could already catch pieces of a conversation that was going on.

"...please, I'll pay you back in a week!" A man's trembling voice could be heard.

"You already said that two times, gringo. I let it slide two times. Where the fuck is my money?" A woman answered, her voice steady and calm. [Y/N] shivered. They wouldn't want to be in the place of the man.

"I swear to God, I'll get you your money in a week! I just need a bit more time, I'm begging you." Silence, then the man's pleas. "No, no, no! Please don't kill me, I promise I'll pay you back. Please!" [Y/N] was standing in front of the door by now, hearing every word clearly.

"One week, gringo, then it's over for you." The woman spoke, and the man exhaled, clearly relieved. Then, a gun went off and screams of agony followed, before they became muffled, probably by a hand or a piece of cloth.

"One week," El Sin Nombre spat, and then the door opened, almost hitting [Y/N] on the head. She was a bit surprised to see the teenager there and quickly closed the door behind her. She wasn't fast enough though, since they glanced behind her and saw a man in his forties, sitting on a chair, his hand bleeding.

"Do you think he'll be able to get the money in one week?" [Y/N] asked, polite curiosity in their voice. 

"Probably not," Valeria hummed and put a hand on their shoulder, leading them away. "Dios mío, you're freezing. The fuck did you do?" She said, removing her hand.

"I flew into a cloud," they groaned.

"Of course you did. What happened this time?" Valeria smiled as they walked to an office-like room and sat down on the sofas.

"Met Soap." [Y/N] grimaced a little. "He was close to catching me, but I kicked him off."

"It's getting more risky for you to fly around," Valeria stated, scanning her visitor.

"I know. But why did I get the 141 members? I'm pretty sure there are other, far more dangerous outlaws than me," they grumbled, huffing to it.

"Actually, there aren't," the Latina hummed, took out a cigarette, and lit it. She put it to her lips, inhaled deeply, and kept it in for seconds before exhaling. /She offered one to [Y/N] who declined with a shake of their head./ /She offered one to [Y/N] who gratefully accepted it and used their own lighter./

"They usually arrest the outlaws within weeks or scare them enough to stop. You've been doing this for almost a year now, so of course the better ones get involved," she said as she put the cigarette to her lip again but didn't inhale the smoke; she just stared off into nothing, thinking. [Y/N] stayed quiet.

Their friendship started around the time [Y/N] started using their power illegally. They accidentally overheard an exchange between one of her men and a client. When they tried backing away, they got caught and dragged to this very building. Surprisingly, the mask was left on them until Valeria ripped it off and realised that she was dealing with a terrified kid. She showed mercy that night and had a talk with them, giving them advice and even a gun, teaching them how to use it. They've become friends since then, and Valeria has always been someone [Y/N] could rely on when it was needed.

"Look, kid, this can go two ways. The first one is that you stop now, and you won't ever be discovered." [Y/N] opened their mouth to say something, but Valeria continued. "Shush, let me finish."

"The second one is that you continue, and they send more or better dogs after you. Either way, they'll slowly gather enough information to identify you, and the best I could do is get you out of the UK." She looked at them with a meaningful look on her face.

"I'm not a quitter," they barked, looking away. Valeria let out a sigh.

"Then it's the second option."

"It's fine," they muttered. "At least I don't have a boring life."

Valeria stood up and walked to her desk, /ruffling [Y/N]'s hair/ /petting [Y/N]'s shoulder/ on her way. They stood up and stretched, yawning. 

"Why don't you tell me about your new foster home?" Valeria asked, changing the subject to a more pleasant one.

"They're fine. Two men who say that they're just friends living together, but I bet they're secretly gay." They had a smug look as they started talking. "One of them is called Simon; he's a bit cold and doesn't show many emotions but otherwise seems like a nice guy. Johnny's from Scotland, and he's like a bomb of sunshine. I think it'll be nice living there," she said, smiling. "Oh, and the best part is that they usually have night shifts, so I don't have to worry too much about sneaking out."

"Sounds nice." Valeria smiled at them. "So you think you'll be fine?"

"Yeah, I think so." They nodded confidently. "I mean, what could possibly go wrong?"

The next day, [Y/N] woke up at 8 a.m. and listened to the voices of the house. There was faint snoring coming from downstairs, but footsteps and the rustling sound of papers in one of the offices. After laying around for ten minutes, they walked to the office of Simon since the voices were coming from over there. They knocked lightly and waited.

"Come in." A raspy voice was heard, and [Y/N] entered the office.

"Mornin' Simon," they said as they stepped inside.

"Mornin'," he spoke. "How was your night?" 

"It was fine. I mostly slept." They shrugged. "How was work?" 

They were actually hoping that he would drop some kind of information about what he did for a living. Unfortunately, they were left with no info.

"Boring. Nothing interesting happened," he answered and then continued. "You hungry?"

"Yeah, a bit."

The morning was peaceful. They had breakfast together, and then everyone went on their separate ways to do their things. [Y/N] had one homework that was assigned for Monday, so they did it and then just spent the time organising their stuff in the room.

Around 10 a.m., Johnny came up to their room and stood in the doorway since the door was open.

"Hey, ye busy?" He asked, and [Y/N] turned around to look at him.

"No, not really. Why?"

"I thought that maybe we could go tae the mall an' buy some stuff for yer room." He cracked a smile, inviting them. They felt surprise wash over them, and they just couldn't do anything for a moment. The other two foster families never offered this to them, and [Y/N] thought that it just wasn't a normal thing to do.

"I'm— It's not necessary," they stammered out the words and then felt their face heat up from embarrassment. It wasn't usual for them to stutter.

"I think it is. It's as boring as Simon when ye want tae have a long conversation with someone," he joked, and both of them burst out laughing when they heard the man shout from the kitchen.

"Hey, I heard that!"

"And it's not an insult, it's boring on purpose, so ye can decorate it in yer own way," he continued, ignoring what Simon said. "So c'mon, I'll get the keys."

There was no point in resisting, so they got in the car, just the two of them since Simon stayed home to make lunch. The mall was surprisingly not too crowded, even though it was a Saturday. They started walking through different shops, and Johnny said it at least thirty times to get anything they wanted, because money doesn't matter. [Y/N] felt a bit uncomfortable because money did matter, at least for the past foster families. 

They put the essentials in the cart: a desk lamp, some folders, two pillows, and a stuffed toy, which [Y/N] was staring at, and Johnny insisted on buying it, even though they said that they didn't need it. As the man looked at the things they bought, he made a thinking expression and hummed.

"Ye can tell me that this is all ye need, but this is definitely not all ye want," he spoke, looking at them with a know-it-all look. When he noticed how [Y/N] didn't look at him, clearly feeling uncomfortable, his voice became softer.

"Hey, look at me." When they did so, he continued. "Dae you know how much your previous foster mom earned? If I'm correct, she was a single mom with two children of her own." They nodded to both of the statements.

"Now multiply that number by three, and that's around how much I earn. Multiply that by two, and boom! You're okay in math, so you should know that we can afford buying you everything you'd like to see in your room."

So they ended up buying more pillows, another stuffed toy, and other things that [Y/N] pointed at. In the end, they bought some clothes as well and got back to the house with four bags, full of things from the mall.

That night, the two men didn't have work, so they stayed home, and all of them were just hanging out in the living room. The TV was on, but none of them actually paid attention to it. Simon was reading, Johnny and [Y/N] were on their phones, scrolling mindlessly. 

Then, the movie that was on suddenly got interrupted by news appearing on the screen. All three of them looked up as the lady behind the desk started talking. There was a man's picture on the right side of the television, who looked extremely familiar to [Y/N].

"Vladimir Makarov was arrested for acts of terrorism, murder, and many other crimes; now he's on the run. The United Heroes of Britain warns everyone that Makarov is extremely dangerous. If you spot him, do not approach him and immediately call 999. The government asks everyone to be careful and..."

"Steamin' Jesus." Johnny murmured as he was watching the TV, eyes wide from surprise. Simon reached over to his phone, stood up, and dialed a number before walking out of the room. This was definitely not good.