The Phenomena of Fireflies and Star... - Chapter 25: Chapter 25

Roof Deck
Falco City Police Department
11:21 AM
Ames had dressed appropriately for the visit: maroon double-breasted suit jacket with black plaid design, white undershirt, dark blue jeans with a comfortable fit, and calf-high, 14-eye leather boots. He was glad that there were no bullet casing stains on him. It really wasn't a necessity to look like the sharpest man in the room when it came to the Chief Inspector, but Ames had never failed to look respectful.
Max waited in the car. Ames had made sure to remind him that he couldn't appear in front of the police. In fact, they had switched places before entering the lot, with Ames taking the wheel before driving in through the gate to avoid triggering any confusion or curiosity from the stationed officers. To some degree, the law enforcement was, by reason of exposure and experience, more familiar with the ex-Alpha's appearance. These officers, especially Chief Inspector Gomez, could sniff Max out as the fallen superhero with a mere glance.
Honestly speaking, Ames felt nervous. He didn't know exactly why, but he did. He hadn't seen the Chief Inspector in months, and the man had last seen him as a broken person. He pushed the door open and walked out to the wide roof deck.
'There he is...,' Ames thought, pausing as he caught sight of the stately elderly man standing by the roof deck's half-wall, hands in his pockets. 'Where did we leave off again?'
'Here goes.'
Ames closed the door behind him and walked toward the Chief Inspector.
"I thought you've forgotten about me, Andrade," the Chief Inspector said, looking toward Ames welcomingly and offering his hand for a handshake. Ames took the man's hand and shook it firmly. "Last time I heard about you wasn't long ago. You were gathering data. But you haven't revisited. Well, not me, anyway."
"I figured you were busy, Chief Inspector," Ames replied, joining the man on the half-wall for a view of the city. The urban scenery was pleasant. Ames could see the commercial area to his left. Before him was a residential area, a subdivision, and it was pleasant to see the vibrant colors of the freshly painted roofs. "Last time I saw you, I wasn't exactly in a happy place."
The Chief Inspector looked at him, almost squinting, as if reading his mind.
"You have moved on, I see," the man blurted out.
Ames nodded solemnly.
"I've been moving on from a lot of things," Ames shared, looking the Chief Inspector in the eyes to ensure that the man would listen to his words intently. Ames wanted to let the Chief Inspector know that he was much stronger now. Despite everything. "It's just funny sometimes. You move on from one thing, and another one pops up."
"You think you'd win a battle and end the war with it," the Chief Inspector added.
"Yeah," Ames said, turning to face the man, keeping his arm on the half-wall's top surface. "The more you realize the wrong in that, the more painful it gets."
Ames knew that the Chief Inspector empathized with him. The man hadn't broken eye contact, still reading him with respectful curiosity but with enough insight to not need to pry harder. Ames was more than familiar with how Chief Inspector Gomez worked on people in his cases.
"Now, you have learned the battle is not the totality of the war?" the man asked.
"The hard way," Ames answered. "Many times."
"You asked to meet me on a relatively short notice, boy. Something tells me that you're facing something big."
"I can take care of it. I just don't know how I'll end up after."
"You've survived quite a lot, son," Chief Inspector Gomez said. "When you survive this one, you're just going to be you. Only stronger."
Ames then remembered something.
"I feel like no matter how far I go, I keep drifting back to how you first found me," he said. That actually tugged him inside. He didn't think he had ever worded his sentiments more accurately.
"And yet," the Chief Inspector said, pointing at him emphatically. "You've gone far."
"Where do you think I'm headed?" Ames inquired, hoping that someone he looked up to as a father could give him some wisdom. "No matter how far I go, I can't get out of the dark. It's been a long time. I keep winning just to lose to something bigger."
"No one ever really escapes, son," the Chief Inspector replied, a kind smile on his face. "You don't always win, no matter how prepared you think you are. The war never stops as long as you're alive. Some battles are just larger than the others."
Ames looked back out to the urban landscape. He had always dared to break out to a different level, and he had mostly succeeded. He believed that there had to be a way to change his destiny. His fate hadn't exactly been the kindest. There just had to be a way to turn the tracks to a different route. No matter how far left or right or up or down he moved them, they all led to the same direction.
"So, basically, you're telling me that it's pointless to fight?" Ames asked.
"You're normally more perceptive than this, but this is already a red flag on its own, so here goes...," Chief Inspector Gomez said, placing a firm but empathetic hand on Ames's shoulder. "Fight. Fight to overcome every new battle. But keep it in your heart that life is the war, and all the bullshit that the world throws at you, no matter how big, are just battles."
Ames looked back at the kind man's face.
"This, um, battle that you speak of," he began to explain. "It feels like a war, Chief Inspector. Why can't I look at it any other way?"
"I think you already know the answer," the Chief Inspector said. "You always do, but okay. You may have turned a long season of your journey into your whole life. That's why it feels like that."
Ames understood. Chief Inspector Gomez was right. Ames just couldn't decide fully where he stood in all of this. He had, however, already set the pieces in place. Whichever he chose to do, he had designed to lead to one place: the right thing. He just couldn't fight off the worry and the fear that he'd been keeping locked in a cage inside of him. He'd been putting them into submission with the anger that served as his energy source. That was a necessity, and so far, he'd been successful. He just needed some answers. He needed some guidance from somebody who had helped deliver him from where he used to be, somebody who had seen him change throughout the years.
Max would always have his own special way of knowing Ames.
Ames cherished that with all of his heart.
He just really needed to hear from someone who went way back, someone who could testify for him and smack him over the head, if the need ever arose. He would've contacted Tyler, but the guy's first instinct in everything was to be a protective older brother. Blessed be his heart, but Ames didn't need a different version of Max. Not at the moment.
What Ames needed was to hear from someone who believed in him more than feared for his safety, but also someone who had wisdom to share.
"I started this mission to redeem myself," Ames said, his eyes drifting back to the view of the subdivision. He hated how vulnerable that sounded, but he was a fool to think he could ever really conceal anything from the Chief Inspector. "That's how it started. The only way I knew to be better. For a while, it was the only way I knew. Until I just needed to accomplish the objective as it is. Development. Growth. Expansion. For others."
"You are good, son," Chief Inspector Gomez replied, leaning over the half-wall. "You can be a master of this and that, a doctor of this and that, and good will always be another arena. If you're so bad, Harvey wouldn't have thought to spend his life with you, and I wouldn't believe in you this much."
'Good,' Ames echoed in his mind. 'Good.'
That stuck out to him the most. He had always kept the good in mind, but he hadn't isolated it as a solid concept all on its own. This time around, he could definitely keep it in mind the way it might have always needed to be kept. Not just as an accessory. Not even as something inspired by self-serving intentions.
"Sorry I ruined your lunchtime, Chief Inspector," Ames remarked guiltily, looking toward the kind old man again. "And disturbed your career again and again."
"Nah," the man replied, looking back at Ames with an expression of faith in his eyes. It was a bit weird to Ames at first how the sharpest man in the police department would have this much faith in him, but that feeling quickly morphed into that of gratitude. Of promise, too. "You're one surname change away from being a son to me. Keep that in mind, Andrade."
"Yes, sir."
"Please. At this point, I'm more than qualified to be Tito Goms."
"Tito Goms," Ames repeated, chuckling at the sound of it. It didn't sound as stately as the man deserved.
But he wasn't about to protest. As funny as it sounded, it still sounded just about right.
"Atta-boy," Tito Goms said, patting Ames's shoulder twice. "Now, you get your shit together like you always do. All I've ever done is reiterate all the data you already have in that overworked brain of yours."
"I got plans in place," Ames replied, nodding at his Tito Goms reassuringly. "Contingencies, too. I have until tonight to make a choice."
"Sounds like a hero's journey skidding to the climax, son. You deal with this one, and there's going to be another battle. Maybe bigger, maybe smaller. But there will be."
"Gotta' make them count, Tito."
"Alright, kid," Tito Goms said, a close-lipped but confident smile on his face as he gave a short salute. "Give 'em hell."
Ames helped himself onto the driver's seat.
"How'd it go?" Max asked.
"Pretty good," Ames replied, closing the car door. "Just had a consultation."
"I kept the car running, by the way," Max informed him. "I didn't wanna' bake in here."
"That's good," Ames responded as he drove out of the parking lot.
"So, where to now?" Max inquired.
"Well," Ames could feel himself getting closer and closer to the right choice. He just needed to take his time with all the options at hand. He knew what he wanted out of this battle, but he didn't know yet the exact route he was going to take. Soon, he would. "We go home."
Andrade Residence
8:01 PM
Ames stared at the laptop screen, at The Mastermind's home page. He took in every detail and every small animation. He allowed its hypnotic red glow to wash over him. He'd always had quite a love for red. That color choice for the program had to be the most personal touch that Ames had contributed to it.
He looked back at all those nights that he would sneak in programming studies to his already busy schedule. It had started out rocky, but he'd always been dedicated to his vision, armed with the knowledge that it would help people. He also knew that it had kept him from thinking too selfishly. Having a mission for others made him feel good. It made him feel like he was being a good person, and he hadn't always been a very good person.
But he'd also since learned to look past his own satisfaction and his own quest for redemption. Those had since stepped aside. The Mastermind had molded in him a sense of purpose that now far exceeded self-interest. He had eventually decided to focus on making sure that his mission would be accomplished. For others.
The more sweat he had poured for the creation of The Mastermind, the more he had transitioned into focusing on bringing the best out of people who had been deprived of the opportunity to learn the way others learned. It was just that getting there had required him to go above and beyond.
Learning how to harness the Synapse had been a battle all on its own. The artificial intelligence couldn't be tamed by limiting it. It could only be channeled, and channeling it hadn't been easy.
Acquiring the Synapse from Eliza had been like being given an orphaned newborn. Ames had been preparing himself for years prior to the introduction of the artificial intelligence into his mission. It was as if he'd been rewarded with the chance of parenthood after years of persevering to be a good enough adult.
Looking at The Mastermind now, at the digital list of registered participants to the right of the home page, he felt a stab of sadness right into his chest. There was this sensation in his heart that gave the illusion of a splinter being stuck in the muscle. It was just bad.
"I made you so that you could help people," Ames muttered. "I won't let anybody or anything change and corrupt that. Ever."
As if being wafted up the stairs and into his bedroom, the sound of a guitar being strummed came to Ames's attention. It was unmistakably Sunset Glow. Ames stayed put for a while, wanting to listen in for a moment. He'd been thinking about what he really wanted to do with his situation ever since he'd gotten home. He could use a break.
"The morning comes
Another day with you
Like every day with you
Toward that sunset glow..."
There came Max's singing voice again: suave, smooth, buttery in texture, baritone. His vibrato was clean and refined, sounding as if it echoed when it actually didn't.
"We could be wrong
But I believed in you
And you know I still do
Our little sunset glow..."
Something about Max's voice was just enticing. It was almost as if his words carried the emotions that the song had been inspired by or sought to convey. If it turned out that Max's empathic or pathokinetic abilities had something to do with how well he hooked Ames to his singing, it wouldn't come as a surprise.
"You got me in
Down the spiral, we go
Falling in
And never letting go
Hold you close
Under the sunset glow
Our little sunset glow..."
With every word, Ames wanted more and more to leave his room and listen from the mezzanine just beyond the door.
When the instrumental came up again, he just couldn't help it anymore. Ames stood up from his seat and discreetly made his way out to the mezzanine. Max looked up at him, as if asking for permission to continue.
Ames gave Max a permissive nod, leaning on the railing with his elbows and allowing the music to come to him and wrap him in reminiscence.
"I right my wrongs
And write my songs for you
Share my scars with you
After the Sunset Glow..."
Ames could feel something inside of him because of the way Max never broke eye contact. It was as if the splintered sensation in his heart was dispersing, breaking apart to warm embers, turning that stab of sadness into a nostalgic embrace.
"And in the nights
The hardest nights with you
When I can't read through you
I'll be that Sunset Glow..."
'Wait,' Ames realized something halfway through the verse, making him blink in abandoned protest. 'Those aren't the lyrics.'
"You're still
The closest thing to home
This feeling
Is far too beautiful
I'm coming home
To fireflies and starlight
To fireflies and starlight..."
The warmth that had blossomed inside of Ames's chest made its way to his eyes, and it seeped out in streams eventually, unapologetically encouraged by Max's voice. Ames listened intently, wiping the tears off his cheeks with the back of his hand.
"The morning comes
Another day with you
Like every day with you..."
And then it was over.
Max looked down at the guitar on his lap as he did one last strum before looking back up at Ames with a kind smile. They were wordless to each other, but the silence felt right. It felt enough.
"Whew," Ames exhaled, smiling down at Max. The tears continued to stream down his face, and he licked the salty beads that wormed into his lips, wiping his mouth afterwards. "I didn't know you were a lyricist or something."
"How are you doing?" Max asked softly, setting aside the guitar.
"I'm getting closer to the answer," Ames replied.
"No," Max cleared his throat. "I mean, how are you feeling?"
"I'm...," Ames's voice cracked as he spoke, and he hated it. "I'm not okay."
Instinctively, he brought his hands up to his face, muffling his sobs as he unleashed the energies that had been plaguing him. He had a lot of questions that he couldn't pinpoint the answers for. He had answers that would've been incredibly viable, if only they wouldn't hurt so bad. He had a lot of things that he wanted to say, but he couldn't find the exact words. All he knew was that he had made the decision long ago to do something good, and he didn't want that vision to ever be corrupted. He would protect it as fiercely as he could, no matter how domineeringly the opposition would intimidate him into submission. Each time he had pulled the trigger back in the range, he had put up an image in mind as a replacement for the target board. In his mind, he'd been firing at Malign. One between the eyes every single time.
Malign used to be that domineering opposition, and he used to cloud Ames's mind with intrusive thoughts and corrupted memories.
Ames could see clearly through the telepath's terror now.
He had overcome that. He'd gotten stronger from that.
He had to get through this next battle, too, if he were to fight for the good he had set out to do.
When he lowered his hands, he found Max gracefully levitating toward him, stopping just in front of him. The railing was the only boundary between them.
"May I?" Max asked.
"Please," Ames replied through his sobs, not knowing exactly what Max was referring to, but trusting anyway.
The hug that enveloped him was as warm as it could ever be. It was homey, and it had never failed to be.
But it was the sudden feeling of Max's lips gently pressing against his forehead that took Ames out for a while. He gasped at the warmth and the comfort that it gave him.
He then felt that connection waver a bit.
"Please tell me if I'm making you uncomf--," Max was trying to say.
"No," Ames interrupted, keeping his forehead available. The kiss had felt so good and so reassuring that he didn't want to part from it just yet. "I need it."
Gladly, Max reestablished that connection. Ames used his own arms to pull Max close, holding him still almost hungrily. There was that hunger for reassurance again, a hunger for stability that only Max could satisfy. His embrace was addictive, and Ames kept it in place.
"I need you, Max," he said, steaming of breath that was being interrupted by his sobs.
"I'm here," Max replied, barely moving his lips. "And whatever your decision is, I will still be here."