Grease was just running.

 

 

 

She didn't really have a plan or a destination. Running away, or running towards, it didn't matter. She couldn't get away from whatever it was that was haunting her. The regret virus might have targeted men, but if it had included women, it would have found the mother load inside her head. Spending time with Adam helped, but it only to focus. Now she could think, and thinking meant she couldn't sleep. There was only one way she knew to clear her head. 

 

She was so wrapped up in clearing her head, she hadn't noticed she picked up a shadow.

 

Eventually she came to a halt. It was somewhere along the New Jersey shore. She didn't know where it was except that it was bleak, dark, and abandoned. So much of this area still showed scars of a war thirty years past. She staggered to a halt and dropped to her knees, breathing heavy for the first time in years. As she knelt there she let out a single loud, "FUCK!" That echoed into the darkness, off in between the warehouses and out across the nearby water. She was far enough away from the city that she could actually see stars.

 

As she knelt there, feeling the crumbling asphalt beneath her hands, she finally realized that she wasn't alone. The human body has a good deal of electrical activity and she could tell when people were close by, especially this one.

 

This one had quite a bit of energy.

 

"You picked the wrong night." Grease said rather loudly as she slowly stood up, "I'll give you one chance to run." She didn't look around. She just stood there and waited to see what would happen. Honestly she really wanted a chance to cut loose and was hoping her shadow would try something.

 

"I am sorry, my dear, if you are having a bad evening, but I am afraid..."

 

Lord Od didn't so much as step out of the shadows, as appear in front of Grease, "I had to pick this night for a reason." He tipped his hat towards Grease, "Allow me-"

 

Grease can actually charge up quite a bit of electricity when she wants. When she moves she just accumulates it, like when you rub your feet on carpet and touch something metal. Usually the lightning trail is just a side effect of her running, but when she wants to, she can actually get quite a jolt going.

 

The blast of lightning was heard for miles.

 

"-to introduce-"

 

Another blast passed through the space the old man had been standing. No one had ever side stepped Grease's lightning before, much less twice.

 

"-myself. I am-"

 

This time she went all out. Nothing focused, just a ball of plasma centered on her. This version was exhausting, but it was impossible to side step as she literally did an impression of a van der graaf generator. Everything for fifty feet around Grease lit up, including the old man.

 

The only thing that happened was his beard and hair got rather frizzy.

 

The old man blinked a lot and made some humphing sounds, "Well that's quite rude!" He switched his hat to the same hand as his cane then ran his now free hand through his hair. The electricity gathered, crackling between his fingers. He then casually tossed the energy away, sending a bolt of lightning arcing out into the water. He looked quite annoyed, "That didn't work when the Ottoman Tank electrified his armor, I don't know why you'd think this sort of thing would work on me now."

 

Grease staggered back with a stunned expression. She held up her fists ready to fight, when she blinked, "Wait." She blinked again, "Ottoman tank?" She tilted her head to the side, "He died just before world war two."

 

The old man nodded and looked rather somber, "Yes. I should know. I attended his funeral. He was an honorable foe. You don't get men like him these days." He looked into the distance, off over the water, "History called him a villain, but I wouldn't label him such. We were just soldiers on opposite sides of a war." He shook his head, "I suppose his passing was for the best, if he had learned of what The Might Of Prussia had become, I think it would have broke Otto."

 

Grease's hands fell to her sides, "Wait... No. You..." She pointed at the old man before her, "You're dead."

 

Lord Od laughed ruefully, "Am I now? Well, tales of my passing appear to have been greatly exaggerated." He put his hat back on his head, then tipped it, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Charlton Hieronymus-Nial Od." He bowed at the waist.

 

"But you may know me as the Caffiend."

 

Grease expression changed several times as she struggled to sputter out complete sentences, "THE Caffiend? The one? The only? The original Superhero? The first speedster? The founder of the Periodic Platoon? THAT Caffiend?"

 

Lord Od nodded.

 

Grease started to scowl, "The same Caffiend who joined up with the Honey Badgers and supposedly got killed in a bombing in Atlanta?"

 

Lord Od took in a sharp breath, "Ah... yes. That. Well. That was a bit of a deal worked out between your government and mine. I agreed to fake my death and retire, they agreed to merely banish me from North America."

 

Grease flexed her hands as she felt her second wind returning, "Do you have any idea how much pain the Honey Badgers have caused me, PERSONALLY?"

 

Lord Od looked somewhat sad and cast his eyes downward, "Yes, indeed. I have done a great deal of research about you. I am afraid there was a reason for everything, but that's not why I'm here." He looked up and directly into her eyes, "The world is in danger and I need your help."

 

Grease burst out laughing directly into his face, "Seriously? THE WORLD?" She laughed again while shaking her head in disbelief, "What pray tell are you going to tell me that will convince me to listen to you and not take that cane from you and proceed to shove it up your ASS?"

 

Lord Od quirked an eyebrow, "Oh... don't take my word on it." He touched his ear and nodded once, "I've stalled long enough for the long range teleport to kick in."

 

Grease suddenly realized that she might be in over her head, especially since she ran out of range of Wanderer's mind link. She turned to run off, but every direction she went, Lord Od appeared in front of her, blocking her path.

 

"Now now..." He raised his cane and pointed it at four large cubes that looked like giant dice made out of purple energy. They appeared nearby in the abandoned lot behind Grease, "You absolutely will want to meet at least two of these fellows." He smiled mirthfully, "You have a lot in common, after all."

 

The first cube contained Robin Hood.

 

Or rather, someone dressed up like Robin Hood. He was dressed in the same green outfit, had auburn hair, a pointy goatee, a long bow slung over his shoulder, and a large assortment of arrows sticking out of a quiver. He looked around, spotted Lord Od, and started walking over, "Excellent! You found her!" He took off his cap, "Greetings and salutations! I am..." then made a sweeping bow, "The Battling Bowman!"

 

Grease swore she could see light glinting off his teeth.

 

The next to arrive was dressed in an outfit that was the same blue one-piece jumpsuit Grease was wearing, except he had a bright yellow cape, a utility belt with yellow guns on it, and a 'CC' in yellow in the middle of his chest. He looked pensive and unhappy to be here. He looked right at Grease and spoke clearly, "Just so you know, I was opposed to all of this. I thought we should have called you up and just explained things over the phone."

 

The next one to appear looked just like Grifter, if Grifter was a man. His whole body proportion was clearly masculine, so it was not the Grifter she knew, even if he had the same bow, gas mask, trench coat, and style. The third one nodded and gave Grease a two finger salute.

 

The final one to appear looked similar to the second, with the exception that his color scheme was blue and black and he had a pair of what appeared to be blue cybernetic legs. His upper body was covered with blue, form fitting body armor. Unlike the first who seemed almost cartoonish, this one looked like he had a weapon stashed everywhere you could put one. He also was wearing an odd pair of red and white goggles that looked like a Tylenol capsule.

 

That's when it sunk in.

 

Grease looked at the first man in blue, then over at the second. Her head kept moving from one to the other, "You..." Back and forth until she could accept what she was seeing from these near identical twins, "You... look like my father." She raised an eyebrow, "A much younger version but..."

 

The man who looked like he escaped from Sherwood forest turned to the first man in blue, "It's better this way, old chum." He gave the man next to him a whack in the shoulder with the back of his hand as he addressed Grease, "This is my partner, Captain Conscious!"

 

The man dressed in blue with the yellow cape waved, "Hi."

 

The male version of Grifter rubbed the side of his head, "Look we can play the comparison game later." He pointed to himself and the man with the Tylenol glasses, "Original Grifter and Captain Quaalude." He pointed in a circle indicating everyone, "With the exception of the Caffiend over there, we are all temporal versions of one another from different timelines." He stabbed a finger in quick succession, "Bee Bee and Me here are both versions of one another." He then repeated the gesture, "Cee Cee, Cee Que, and you match up as well. Any questions? No? Good. Now-"

 

The Battling Bowman chimed in, "HAH HAH HAH! Actually, I would be the ORIGINAL here!" He put his hands on his hips dramatically. In fact, it seemed like everything he did was dramatic.

 

The male version of Grifter glared at the Bowman, "You never called yourself Grifter."

 

The Bowman laughed, "My Timeline is the Prime Timeline!" He put his hand to the side of his mouth and leaned closer to Grease, "Me and CC are from Foreworld, after all!" He rolled his hand in the air and spoke with a dismissive tone, "Next was Nazi World." He made a sweeping gesture towards the new Grifter and his partner, "Backworld was third." Then he lowered his head towards Grease, "And last but not least, Reverse world." He looked up at her, gave her a wink and a smile, then waggled his eyebrows.

 

Captain Conscious smacked The Bowman in the back of the head, "Do Not Flirt With My Female Temporal Counterpart! That's just messed up!" He looked at Grease, "I am so sorry. He does this all the time. Don't take it personal."

 

Grifter growled, "I would like to point out you were VILLAINS in foreword until we came long and straightened you out."

 

Conscious nodded, "Indeed." He looked to Captain Quaalude, "For which I am very grateful."

 

Quaalude crossed his arms and glared back, "We only did it because you were making us look bad in comparison." A pause, "And you both STILL look very silly."

 

Grease had been silent up until this point, just trying to take this all in. The first two, the Bowman and Conscious, they both looked, for lack of a better word, brighter. Like their was some sort of fundamental part of them that was different. They had an air of optimism and hope that was carried by their very presence. They seemed heroic in a happy, cheerful way.

 

In comparison, male Grifter and Quaalude looked grim. Battle hardened might be a better term. Her Grifter always came across as tough, and calculating. This new Grifter has like that, but also had an air of charged lethality about him. Captain Quaalude looked like Captain Conscious, if Conscious had been dragged behind a truck though several layers of Hell. Quaalude was made of hard edges and violence. He had a layer of grime to him that his counterpart didn't. They both had utility belts, but they were like night and day in both form and function. Conscious' yellow belt seemed... softer.

 

Captain Quaalude's belt was black and blistering with weapons that appeared to be exactly what you might need to murder a small city. One person at a time or all at once? Whatever the situation demanded. He also had devices strapped to his wrists, to his shoulders, and just about anywhere you could put a concealed weapon. Where Conscious seemed reluctant to be here, Quaalude seemed unhappy existing anywhere. Conscious looked like a kind and helpful young man here to save the day. Quaalude looked like a coil of razor wire wound tightly around a grenade that just got tossed into your world war one trench.

 

Grease zoomed next to Conscious to look at him closer, "So. You're a male version of me?"

 

Conscious seemed a bit taken off guard and took a step back, "Why-"

 

He didn't have a chance to respond as she zoomed away to look at Quaalude, "And-" However, as she closed in on the other one, his cybernetic leg opened up and a gun launched itself into the air. In one smooth action, Quaalude caught the weapon and already had it in hand, pointed directly at her face as she came to a stop in front of him. It appeared to be some sort of pistol designed to shoot chemical filled cartridges.

 

Grease stopped short and smirked as she spoke, "You as well?" She tilted her head to the side to look around the gun in her face.

 

Quaalude showed no expression or reaction, "We need you. Don't make me sedate you."

 

Grease grinned widely, "If you do, will you take advantage of me?" Then waggled her eyebrows.

 

Captain Conscious coughed and looked shocked, "WHAT? No! Heavens No! We would never do such a-"

 

Quaalude cut him off, "SHE'S JOKING." He let out a long suffering sigh, "How do people even have children in that four-color world of yours?"

 

Grease looked confused, "Four-color? Like... comic books?"

 

Grifter reached over, put his hand on Quaalude's gun and pushed down. Quaalude looked sideways at his partner, then abruptly put his weapon away. He looked at Grease, "I liked comic books about westerns as a kid." Then jogged his head towards Captain Conscious, "His world reminds me of that." There was a pause before he added, "The morality. You know, good guys always wear white. That sort of thing."

 

Grifter chuckled, "I miss Captain Peyote."

 

Quaalude snapped his head around to look at Grifter, "You promised to never speak of that."

 

The Bowman sighed, "As fun as this might be. We do need to hurry. The more time we waste, the more energy we'll have to expend." He hooked a thumb at Grease, "And we still have yet to save the young lady's parents."

 

 

Grease scowled at the Bowman. All the playfulness in her voice vanished to be replaced with laser-focused hostility.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Explain."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"NOW."