I Am The Night- Part Eight by: Enemyoffun Steven Brown has a rough time, wanting to be a girl and hiding it from his angry abusive father. But when Steven gets a chance to express his hidden side through a fantastic opportunity, things change, including himself.

-----

Author's Note: Here's Ch. 7, right on time. I have a question, seeing as Stephanie isn't currently anything right now, should I keep the pic I've been using or switch to a transition picture? I only ask because I have another pic but I've been debating about using it. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing, DC Comics for the characters and everyone else for embracing this slow tale so far. UPDATE: Since asking my question, a lot people told me I should change the pic so that's what I've done, this ch. and the one for the previous chapter will be changed to the new pic here.

-----

Chapter Seven:

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor with all that walking,” said Uncle Jim from his chair.

I didn’t respond. Instead I continued my pacing, waiting impatiently for Jen. After talking with her on the phone last night for two hours, she wanted to rush over here immediately. But I talked her out of it, it would have been pointless what with the Narrows unofficial curfew and all. So we decided that she’d show up here after school today. I’m not sure how her day was, but for me it was a total bummer, having to wait all day for her to show. After talking with Jen last night, Uncle Jim and I had a talk, too. We both decided that I should forego school for a few days---at least until I got some proper credentials to go with my new self. He made an appointment for me with some government woman---it was scheduled for later this week.

I wasn’t really sure how to respond to that. I’m not sure why it was such a big deal but the idea of some government person coming here in a few days made me kinda uneasy. I guess I was kinda nervous that she was going to take one look at me and say that I couldn’t be a girl. I know it sounds crazy but crazy things have been happening lately. There were heroes all over the world now, and villains to match. In San Francisco, the Green Arrow and Blue Beetle were stalking the streets, and here in Chicago there were so many heroes that I couldn’t even name them all even if I tried. There were countless others too---like Terra and Jade. I had to wonder if any of them had to pass government scrutiny, too.

The hissing of bus wheels drew me from my thoughts.

I rushed to the door and pulled it open. There was a large city bus in front of our house. When the door opened, Jen was the only one who got off. She looked like her usual self, dressed in an earthy outfit. I rushed out onto the large porch, barely containing my glee. I wanted her to see the new me more than anything. She was halfway down the walk when she stopped dead in her tracks, getting a good look at me. I was wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, both belonging to Babs. We were close to the same size. When our eyes locked, for a moment I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. It was the longest thirty seconds in my life I think. But it ended quickly when Jen rushed forward and threw her arms around me, crying of all things.
Her crying got me crying.

“Girls” said Uncle Jim from the doorway. “Why don’t you come inside and I’ll get you something to eat.”

Uncle Jim didn’t have to go into work until later. He said, though his job was important, there were others who could handle things until he got there. I think he wanted to be home with me---at least for today. I was the one who convinced him to cut it to half a day. I don’t think he was too happy but he conceded. He was still looking for my story, I think---trying to be the sly detective about it. But so far he’d been unsuccessful and I wasn’t ready to give. Partly because I was afraid he’d get angry with me and partly because I needed to think up a good lie so he wouldn’t get angry. But it’s really hard to lie to a cop, especially the Head one.

Jen and I went into the house. She looked around wide eyed at the size. Her grandparents’ place was big, especially considering where it was located. But this place was like the Manor compared to that. I gave her a quick tour, which ended in my room. We closed the door, making sure not to lock it. Not that we’d do anything stupid but Uncle Jim told me he didn’t like locked doors.

“Holy crap” said Jen, flopping down on my bed. “I hardly recognized you.”

I smiled. “I’m still me.”

“Give me a twirl,” she said excitedly.

I rolled my eyes and she laughed. I slowly turned in a circle, Jen sized me up. When I was done, she frowned. At first I thought I did something wrong. I put on a pouty face and she laughed.

“It’s not that” she said, still laughing.

“What is it?”

“You’re bigger than I am.”

I grabbed a pillow and threw it at her. Which of course made her grab a pillow and the two of us went at it. It was kinda fun and stupid but very carefree. We dueled for a while, finally ending in a draw. After that, we sat and talked. Jen was pretty bright so it didn’t her long to start asking the real serious questions. She wanted to know what happened. Last night I gave her a small rundown of events; she was angry with me at first. I don’t think she liked the fact that I lied to her. I didn’t like it either but I knew she’d talk me out of it if I told her. So now, when I told her everything---all the details---she glared at me. Then she scolded me. I deserved it. What I did the other night was beyond stupid. In the end, she made me promise never to do anything stupid like that again. I quickly did so.

After that, the conversation went to lighter things. She mainly wanted to talk about how to redecorate my room. Jen was a typical girl where it counted. I told her about maybe painting the walls a light shade of purple. I might have mentioned before I’m kinda obsessed with the color. According to her, the only good thing about the whole warehouse incident was that my ratty purple hoodie was burnt beyond recognition. I was still mourning its loss though. We talked girly things for hours after that then the conversation switched to school. I told her I would still be attending the same one but had to wait until I had a meeting with some government woman.

Jen left before it got dark, taking the bus back into the city. That was one thing I was going to miss about living here: Jen was no longer around the corner. After she was gone, I was alone in the house. Uncle Jim left for work and wouldn’t be back until later. Have you ever been in a big house all by yourself? Let me tell you right now it’s kinda creepy. I thought about calling Babs but remembered she had a night class. So I decided to take advantage of the park across the street. I went upstairs and rummaged through Babs’ closet, looking for something warm to wear. Though it was September and nice during the days, the nights were getting a bit chilly. You’ll never guess what I found: a black hoodie. It wasn’t purple but it was better than anything.

It was a zip up kind and when I put it on, it was at least two sizes too big but it was nice and warm. Babs was a product of that bygone age where kids liked bigger clothes. At least as far as hoodies went. After making sure I wrote Uncle Jim a note, I left the house. I half ran down the drive and then across the street. It was not quite six, so the sun was still up but just barely. Looking at the park in this dim light made me smile. I couldn’t remember the last time I was here. I also couldn’t remember the last time I could take a walk this late and not fear for my life. That was one thing I wasn’t going to miss about the city.

_______________________________________

I headed straight for the track. The local high school used this place for practice a lot. I was watching them earlier from my window. I think it was the whole football team, running laps. It must have sucked being run through your paces like that. It kinda made me a bit nostalgic though. I kinda missed gymnastics. It made me want to find the nearest Gym and sign up again. I could too, especially now that I was out of Dad’s hair. But to get back into it after so long; I’m not sure if I could do that. Besides everything was different now: I’d have to relearn the whole thing.

I sighed heavily and shivered in the wind, pulling the hood up over my head. I kept my head down as I walked, lost in my thoughts. I headed for the track and slowly walked around it. There was no one here at this time of the day, what with evening almost upon us. I had the thing to myself, which I kinda liked. It helped me get lost in my thoughts and boy did I have some things to think about. Yesterday I had been the most excited girl in the world---and I still was---but I was scared, too. It’s not every day that a guy turns into a girl. I love everything about it---I wouldn’t take it back for anything---but what did it all mean? There has been a lot of talk about Metas over the last few months, some good and bad. People are a little up in the air on the subject actually. There are those in certain communities who think we’re “devils” while others see us as “gifts from God.”

Me, I was always kinda indifferent about it. Was I jealous of Metas---of course? I mean who wouldn’t want to have cool superpowers. But at what cost? There were a lot of guys and girls out there who weren’t like me. I can clearly remember the interview they did with Myka Carter shortly after she saved the President. She had been happy as a guy. She did admit that she had a gambling problem before but that her life was pretty good. Then everything got uprooted by the “Change”. That’s what a lot of people are calling it---The Change. I guess that makes sense but couldn’t it have been something cooler like “The Metamorphosis”. I had to read that in English class last year---Ovid’s not Kafka’s. I don’t remember much of it other than I was really jealous of that prophet guy---the one that got turned into a girl for striking a pair of snakes while they were having sex. I can honestly admit I thought about looking for a pair myself just to see if it would work. Now that I’ve found my own snake---figuratively of course---I’m kinda scared that it might come with a hefty price.

I continued to think about my blessing or curse as I walked around the track. As I walked, the sun went down and darkness slowly crept in. With it came the cold. I thought about zipping up the hoodie but it wasn’t too bad. I shivered a bit and started back toward the house. I was about halfway there when something caught my eye. Actually someone. More than someone, it was a bunch of some ones. I noticed them a few minutes ago but I thought they were a bunch of kids about my age, fooling around in the park like guys did. They were laughing before and having a good time. Or that’s how it appeared.

I caught sight of them again as I was leaving the track. They were far enough away that I couldn’t really make out what they were doing but I could see that there were at least four or five them. They were surrounding one of the picnic tables, laughing and carrying on. I couldn’t make out any faces but that didn’t really matter because I didn’t know many of the guys in school anyway. In school? Were they even from my school? I know it wasn’t much of a stretch to think that, after all this town had its own school, too. But there was just something about these guys that seemed to breathe familiarity to me. I guess that’s why I found myself slowly making my way over, pretending of course to walk along the path that ran pretty close to them.

Familiarity came pretty quick, especially when one of the guys talked: “C’mon, it’s not going to hurt.”

The voice was awfully familiar. I pretended to stop and tie my shoe, not that they noticed anyway. I glanced at the group and recognized the speaker. I didn’t know his name but he was in my third period government class. So these were some of my classmates. I looked at some of the other faces but the speaker was the only one who was facing me. The others were tall though, wearing hoodies not all that different from my own. The only one who wasn’t was the guy they were surrounding. I couldn’t see his face but from the position he was in---lying on his back on the table---it was clear that he was much smaller than them. It was also pretty clear that he didn’t want to be there.

I cursed. Then I stood up, finishing my pretend activity. I looked about, wondering if there was anyone else here to take notice. But as far as I could tell, we were the only people in the park. I cursed again. A small part of me wanted to leave and not get involved. It was a very small part. It wasn’t in control though so it couldn’t stop me when I took a deep breath and left the path. It was a good thing too because as soon as I got closer, one of the taller boys’s moved and I saw their victim’s face: it was Arnold. I bit my lip and charged in, not a moment too soon.

“Just stick it in him already” said one of the other boys.

The boy closest to me was trying to jab a needle into Arnold’s arm while two others held him down.

Arnold squirmed and kicked. “I changed my mind guys…I don’t want….ahhh….you bastards.”

I got to them at about that time. I was closest to the one doing the injecting. I grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him away. I think I shocked him more than anything. The needle actually snapped in Arnold’s arm, the little freshman screamed. The Injector looked at me bleary eyed for a second. When I looked in his face, I did a double take. I’m not sure what he was on but whatever it was, it was bad. His pupils were huge, his veins bulging and his skin was really pale. There was a weird look in his eyes too, like a crazed lunatic. He held the empty needle in his hand and for a second he looked stunned. Then he reacted. He crushed the needle in his palm, shards of glass digging into his flesh. It was a bloody mess but it didn’t seem to faze him much.

I let go of his shoulder and took a step back. I locked eyes with Arnold but he couldn’t see me because of the hood. I wasn’t about to drop it though, not until these guys were gone.

“The kid said no,” I said, putting an edge to my voice, trying to sound menacing.

It didn’t really have the effect I was looking for. Especially when the other guys turned toward me. They were huge and I’m not just talking tall, I’m talking bulging muscles. One of them wasn’t wearing a jacket---just a tank top–it showed his bulging veins. It kinda creeped me out. I snapped around the circle, looking at all their faces though. They all had the same pale skin and blood shot eyes. It didn’t take a genius to know what was going on here: these guys were Thrill Seekers. When the police sent the memo to Leslie about Thrill, they added a description of what a Thrill Seeker might look like. I was staring at four of them now. I took another step back, having read the whole report. Thrill was all about the adrenaline rush and these guys looked like big Seekers.
What the hell did I just get myself into?

“You need to back the fuck up out of here right now,” said the one who crushed the needle, blood dripping from his hand.

I looked at the hand but if he knew he was bleeding he didn’t seem to react to it. I had to wonder if it was part of the drug reaction. I looked away from him quickly and back over to Arnold. He was sitting up on the table, holding his arm. The four Seekers had completely abandoned him as the target. Now they were all concentrated on me.

I played the only card I had. “You guys better get the hell out of here right now. The police commissioner lives right across the street, all I have to do is scream.”

The leader of the group seemed to pause but only for a second. Then he laughed. “Let him come, we’ll jack his ass up pretty good.”

Ok so much for the subtle approach. I bit my lip. It sucked that I hadn’t been a girl longer. If I had been, I would have had a purse and inside I would have been prepared. Jen had two very important things in her’s: a can of mace and a rape whistle. Not that she ever had to use them but her grandparents were the overprotective type. I kinda wished that Uncle Jim had at least bothered to give me one of those. I suppose he probably would have if I had been with him for more than a day. I suppose it’s my own fault in a way, coming out, thinking that I was safe just because I wasn’t in the Narrows anymore. I guess the moral of this story is that crime is everywhere and that you need to be prepared for that.

“You guys don’t want to start shit here, it’s beneath you.”

The leader smirked. “You should have thought of that before getting your ass involved.”

Shit. I opened my mouth to say something else but didn’t get a chance to speak. Instead, I squeaked as the leader lunged for me. I’m not really sure what happened. I know he was pretty close and the odds of me getting away from him weren’t all that great. So it kinda surprised the hell out of me when I easily slipped from his grasp, slithering away like a snake. I only had a moment to think about it because one of his friends came for me. The way these guys moved, they could have been on the football team. They were big but they were fast. The one that came at me hit me hard in the side, his head slamming into my ribcage.

The blow drove me to the ground. He dropped on top of me, pinning me in place. The strangest thing was the lack of pain. I should have been screaming and wailing from it. It should have hurt like hell but I didn’t feel a thing. I wonder if it meant what I thought it did. Not that I had time to ponder that possibility. The guy sitting on top of me grounded his knee into my back. I think he was expecting me to scream out in pain but when I didn’t he looked a little perplexed.

“What the fuck” he said, reaching down and grabbing my hood. He pulled it off my head and the look on his face was genuine. “Holy shit, it’s a chick.”

He shifted his weight, rising just a tad. It was enough for me to roll fully on my back. Then I did something a little crazy. I snapped my head forward as hard as I could, driving it right between the legs. Being a guy only a short twenty-four hours ago---more or less---I knew being hit in the joy spot wasn’t all ice cream and kitties. But being head butted there had to hurt like a bitch. The look of pain spread across the son of a bitch’s face. He fell off me, grabbing his crotch. Then he toppled on the ground, writhing in pain. I kicked him a few times, making sure to get him in the face at least once.

“You fucking bitch” snapped one of the other guys. “You’re dead.”

Two of the others rushed forward but their leader---Mr. Bloody Hand---stopped them by holding out his arms. He looked at me and smirked. “If it isn’t the ball breaker herself. Is this what you do, patrol the local parks looking for dweebs in trouble.”

I glared at him. It pissed me off that I didn’t have a name for his face.

“Stephanie?” said a voice from behind.

I snapped quickly over to Arnold. He was crawling off the table, still holding his arm. I smiled at him. “Hey Arnie, nice night for a stroll in the park, huh.”

Mr. Bloody Hand spoke again. “Hey Bitch, we not good enough for you.”

I turned my attention back to them. I shrugged. “You guys aren’t good enough for anyone.”

“Let me mash her face, Johnny,” said one of his eager friends, twitching with excitement.

I nodded toward him. “He doesn’t look so good. I think you guys need to lay off that shit.”

Bloody Hand smirked. Then he reached into his pocket, pulling out a second needle. I looked at it, at the yellowish green liquid inside. “You want a hit, baby,” he said with a big grin. “It will take you places you could never dream.”

“I’ll pass.”

He shrugged. Then he stuck the needle in his arm. It didn’t take him long to find a vein, after all they were practically bulging out of his skin. His body started to quiver as he injected himself with it. Then it was as if he was reacting to a massive orgasm. He gasped real loud, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. Not that I knew what that was like but I’ve seen it in movies. His two friends looked on in jealous envy, probably wishing they were having the fix he was having. I looked at the three of them then at Arnold. I knew we didn’t have much time so I grabbed his arm and ran, dragging him with me. At first, he stumbled along behind me---probably a bit confused---but he caught on pretty quick.

We ran as hard as fast as our feet could take us. I knew as long as we got across the street and into the house, we’d be fairly safe. If the three of them were stupid enough to try and break into the Commissioner’s house they needed to be arrested. We were going pretty fast but it didn’t take long for them to come pounding after us. I could hear them coming up fast, faster than they should have. We had a huge head start but they were gaining ground too quickly. It had to be that fucking drug. I don’t remember anything about it saying that it enhanced speed but the report was also preliminary at best.

They made up the distance too quickly. I could see the street but there was no way we’d make it. So I made a decision. “Arnold, run across the street and into that big brown house. Call the police; tell them you’re a friend of the Commish’s niece.”

Arnold didn’t ask any questions. He just kept running. I watched him go then turned on our pursuers. The closest one was one of the goons. I think it was one who wanted to “mash my face” earlier. He was charging like a bull, saliva flying out of his mouth. He was really too fast for me to react and yet somehow I did. I’m not really sure how to explain it. It was like the warehouse all over again. I felt lighter than air and when he lunged, I turned so effortlessly that it was as if I was reacting without even thinking about it. He was going too fast to stop so he stumbled and slammed into the ground, face first. It probably hurt like hell. I heard him groan then push himself up, a face full of grass and dirt no doubt. I didn’t wait to find out though. I took this momentary relapse to continue running. With him down and his friends still somewhere behind me, I ran for the street.

I got across it quickly enough. He was about to give chase but a car zoomed by. I was lucky because I got on the other side before it hit me. He glared angrily at me. I wanted to flip him off but I didn’t waste the gesture. Instead, I turned and ran up my driveway. When I got into the house---glad I forgot to lock the door---I found Arnold in the main room. He was on the phone, probably talking to dispatcher. He smiled at me and looked relieved as I walked into the room. I locked the door this time. Then I turned and looked out the window. The goon was gone. I guess he wasn’t as ballsy as he pretended to be. I wouldn’t have pursued us either.

I sighed in relief and walked over to the couch, flopping down on it. Arnold got off the phone a few minutes later, dropping down too. I looked at his arm, it didn’t look too bad. It was a little red and swollen where the needle jabbed him but other than that it didn’t look too bad.

“You want me to bandage that for you?”

He shook his head. “I’m good.”

I nodded. “Are the cops sending someone?”

He shrugged. “They have a car in the area.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes after that. Then I asked the question that was foremost in my thoughts. “What the hell were you doing with those guys?”

He sighed and told me his story. It wasn’t all that hard to piece together. They promised to help him fight off the bullies. Apparently, there was an incident today in school---one I wasn’t there to prevent. I guess I can’t be around all the time to protect the kid but it pissed me off. Arnold got roughed up pretty good and those guys helped him. Then they promised to help him some more. He was a little desperate and agreed. He gave them some money and they brought him to the park. He was hanging out with them---they acted like they wanted to be his friends. But that’s when they told him about the drug. The rest I knew.

“Guys like that are the lowest of the low,” I said angrily.

He nodded. “I was just so damn tired of all the bullying.”

“You have me, you know. As long as I’m around I won’t let those jackasses touch you.”

I’m not sure that was the right thing to say. I guess I couldn’t blame the kid. I was the bullied kid for the longest time. I knew exactly where the kid was coming from. So when he reacted to my words, I kinda felt his pain too.

“You’re a girl,” he snapped. “If you were me would you want a girl sticking up for you all the time?”

I shook my head.

He continued. “No offense, Stephanie, you’re cool and all but you’re only making things worse.”

That threw me a bit. “They’re fucking with you. How am I making things worse?”

“You’re not helping, that’s for sure.”

I frowned. “You want to be their punching bag all your life?”

He got angrier. “Better that than being known as the Sissy who has a girl fight all his battles for him.”

The gibe stung. It stung a little less though because it was true. I was so busy seeing myself in Arnold that I forgot he wasn’t like me. I would have loved it if someone had stuck up for me---protected me like I did for him. I wouldn’t have cared if it were a girl. But then again I saw myself as one so it wouldn’t have been too much of a problem for me. For Arnold though---it was bad. I forgot how rough guys could be to one another. It was no wonder he liked it so much better when those four stood up for him.

I opened my mouth to say something else but closed it just as quickly. I didn’t really know what to say. So the two of us sat in silence, Arnold with his back to me, sniffling. I let him cry. It was good to cry every now and then even for a guy. He cried for a while then more silence followed. The ringing of the doorbell interrupted our dead silence. I got up and answered. It was the police officer we called for. I invited him into the house---Arnold wiped his tears. He took our statements, first Arnold’s, then mine. He was here for about an hour, trying to get as much detail as he could. I told him everything I knew, including the names I heard used. I think he was impressed with how much I was able to take from the scene. I was a little impressed myself.

“Would you like a ride back into the city, son?” asked the cop of Arnold when it was over.

Arnold looked back at me, ice in his stare. “Yeah, I’m done here.”

Another sharp sting. That one I didn’t deserve. I was only trying to help and he threw it back at me. “I’ll see you in school?”

He shook his head. “Just leave me alone.”

Then he turned and followed the officer out of the house. I went to the door and watched the two of them go. I felt a pain in my chest, knowing that in the end I had hurt Arnold more than helped him. I wanted to cry but no tears came. Instead, I stood there and watched as he got into the patrol car and they drove off. I stood in the doorway for a while, staring off into the park. A small part of me wanted to run across the street and back into it looking for those bastards. I wanted to pound the snot out of them. But another part of me wanted to crawl into the corner and cry. After a few minutes of staring, I found myself at a midway decision.

I turned and went back into the house. I didn’t go into the corner though; instead, I went to the couch. I grabbed the remote and watched TV. I avoided the news though; I didn’t want to hear stories about successful heroes, heroes that people actually thanked. Heroes that people wanted to save them. Instead, I found myself on Cartoon Network. I watched for a few hours until Adult Swim came on. It was then that I heard the front door open. I shut off the TV, pulling my legs up onto the couch, hugging my knees.

It didn’t take Uncle Jim very long to walk into the room. At first, he didn’t say much. He set his briefcase in a chair then took off his coat, hanging it in the closet. When he was finished with that, he took the paper and went over to his chair. When he sat down he finally locked at me. When our eyes locked, he frowned.

He sighed. “You know when the police are called and my name is dropped, I generally take notice.”

I sighed. “So you heard about today?”

He nodded. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes; then let out another sigh. “I think you and I need to have that talk now.”

All I could do was nod.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF