The Law of Averages

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

There was a man pointing a gun at Miss Margaret. Dan didn't like that. He didn't like it one bit. That said, there wasn't much he could do about it. Physically, that is. He was frozen, completely and utterly still, one foot in the air as his brain short-circuited midway through processing the situation.

Who the hell robs a bank alone in broad daylight?

The would-be bank robber wore a large grey jacket, the hood pulled up over his face. His jeans were faded and ripped, from use rather than style. He brandished a pistol of a make that Dan didn't recognize. Despite being a Texan, he did not, in fact, possess an encyclopedic knowledge of guns. It was a semi-automatic, and would almost certainly kill anything or anyone it was pointed at. That was really all Dan needed to know.

Dan needed to call the police. There wasn't much he could do in this situation. He was an untrained civilian, and that was a man with a gun. Unfortunately, his cell phone did not survive its trip through dimensions, which meant he would have to find a land line in order to make a phone call. He could do that. He was capable of doing that.

His legs just refused to move.

He really did not like what he was seeing. It made him angry. Angry enough to literally bite down on his knuckles, lest he do something tremendously stupid. Dan considered himself a pretty level-headed guy, but there were lines you did not cross. Guns were not toys Mister Thief, you shouldn't point them at kind old ladies.

Dan felt like this was one of those character defining moments that he'd so often fantasized about. One of those times where he would look back, no matter what he did, and wonder what if?

What if he ran like a coward? What if he fled out the door, screaming for help? Who could blame him, a painfully normal civilian, when encountering such a situation. But could he face himself in the mirror if he acted so shamefully? Could he stand straight-backed and proud ever again? No, Dan could be a coward on his own time. He could cry and be scared when his pride was all that was at stake.

What if he did the intelligent thing, the clever thing, the right thing? What if he teleported away, found a phone, called the police? That was the proper course of action, the path that Dan knew he would eventually take. When he finished hemming and hawing over what might be, he would do what should be done. Dan was no fool, he knew what the right call was.

But he couldn't shake that errant thought: what if he was a hero? What if he fought? What if he teleported in and disarmed the thief, like some sort of superpowered Jackie Chan. What if he proved to himself that he was more now, that those silly dreams had a basis in fact, that a Dan with powers was somehow intrinsically better than a Dan without. He could see it. He could picture himself appearing there, right there, next to the thief—

The world twisted and shattered into fragments, spiraling outward into the space between dimensions. Dan heard reality scream as it broke, he felt space groan as it expanded, he tasted a thousand gibbering mouths lining the walls of non-existence and they echoed and echoed and echoed throughout his mind. Dan couldn't breathe or speak or see or hear, his senses fled, his body parts detached, spinning off into the gap between worlds. Something caught him, his will or his desperation or his power, some force pulled him along and he was hurled down a winding passage towards—

Dan appeared in front of the thief.

Now, Dan had always teleported with his eyes closed. It had simply seemed easier for him to focus that way. Even in the beginning, on that day in the doctor's office that seemed so long ago, he had blinked right as he had jumped. Some dim, barely functioning part of his mind now wondered if this hadn't been some sort of instinctual safety precaution.

The human mind can handle many things, especially with repetition. Unfortunately, new experiences had never been Dan's strong suit. Even after being tempered by his recent dimensional shenanigans, he was simply unprepared for a transition so jarring. He had seen that which man should probably never see.

And it was terrifying.

All of this happened in an instant, however. One second, Dan was standing in the hotel lobby while in the next, he was in front of the bank robber. While Dan's gut reaction to this horrifying state of affairs would have been to scream and run for cover, his gut's reaction was to violently rebel. Dan vomited all over the thief.

The man, understandably, recoiled. Both of his hands jerked over his face in a doomed attempt to ward off the stream of bodily fluids. The gun slipped through slick fingers and clattered to the floor. Dan finished his heaving motion, staggering forward at an almost 90° angle and the thief, cursing wildly, swung at Dan's keeled over form.

Dan had never been in a fight before. The closest he had come had been on the station, confronted by an tiny old man with a knife. He had, appropriately, panicked rather badly back then. Today was no different.

It was like someone else was in control of his body. Another person was behind the wheel, and they were drunk, tired, and driving with their feet. He lurched away from the fist, slipping on the suddenly slick floor. The blow clipped him still, tilting him into a clumsy spin. The next swing caught him in the stomach, blasting the air out of his lungs and sending Daniel to the floor. The thief knelt down and reached towards his fallen weapon, one hand wiping at his face. A loud crack echoed through the lobby, the thief's head hit the floor, then all was silent. Except for Dan's groaning, of course.

Someone shook his shoulder, and he weakly turned onto his back. Miss Margaret's concerned face stared down at him, saying something incomprehensible. a baseball bat clutched in one hand. Dan wanted to respond, but his brain was still drooling in the corner. His last coherent thought was that at least he hadn't brought Merrill.

________________

Dan's consciousness swam back to his body while it was sitting on the rear of an ambulance, wrapped in a towel, with a hot chocolate in hand. Having absolutely no idea how he had arrived here, Dan looked around for clues.

The ambulance was parked outside the Pearson. The street around him was mostly clear, but a crowd of rubbernecking civilians was visible in the distance. Yellow police tape wrapped around the entrance to the hotel lobby.

"How are you, Daniel?" a familiar voice spoke from right beside his ear.

Dan flinched despite himself. Miss Margaret was a damned ninja. How the woman managed to constantly sneak up on him was a mystery for the ages.

He smiled sheepishly. "I'm alright, I think. What happened?" His memory was fuzzy. Flashes of unreality mixed in with mortified embarassment, forming a formidable cocktail of NOPE that blocked the finer details of recent events.

Margaret shrugged. "Well, after I knocked out that thief, the police arrived. You were clearly in shock so they bundled you up and put you out here. I think the officers will want a statement once they are done reviewing the security tapes."

"You knocked out the thief?" Dan asked, bewildered. "Did I help?"

"You were very brave," Margaret replied with a consoling pat on his shoulder.

"That doesn't sound like me," Dan admitted.

"We all have within ourselves the capacity for greatness!" a deep voice boomed, and Dan jumped in place once again. A police officer towered over him, tall and broad enough to block the sun. His skin was well tanned, his hair was blonde, long, and well-groomed, and he sported a magnificent horseshoe mustache. For such a man to sneak up on him, Dan was forced to admit that his observational skills must be lacking.

"My apologies, I did not mean to startle you," the giant continued, clapping a meaty hand on Dan's shoulder.

Dan winced, though not in pain. The massive man had been rather gentle, despite the thunderous sound his clap had created. No, Dan was wincing at the situation. Marcus was going to kill him. This had been the opposite of staying out of trouble.

"It's no problem," he replied, feeling very small. Gentle or not, the man's wrist was thicker than Dan's thigh.

"I have reviewed the security tapes, fair lady, and they match your story perfectly," the officer rumbled, turning to face Miss Margaret. His voice was the lovechild of a bass guitar and an avalanche; pleasant to listen to, but the owner could probably flatten you.

Margaret remained unphased. She raised her head primly. "I have never lied to a lawman before, and I don't plan on starting today."

The man placed his hand over his chest. "Alas, if only more people were so civil-minded! I fear that I may be out of employment, should such a miracle occur!"

Margaret rolled her eyes while Dan tried helplessly to decipher what was happening.

The giant gave him a flinty look. "And you! Brave sir! I applaud your initiative, but I must insist that you contain yourself the next time you face such a situation. You came dangerously close to violating the Vigilante Act and even closer to being killed!"

"It was an accident!" Dan protested urgently. The Vigilante Act prohibited the use of powers in defense of others, unless the offending party used them first. A first time violation was only a small fine, but it would put Dan's name on a watch list. Neither he nor Marcus were certain that his identity could survive undue government scrutiny.

The act itself was seen by the public as well-meaning, but somewhat extreme. Officers were given a large amount of leeway in actually enforcing it, and multiple exceptions and loopholes existed within the law itself.

"Honestly, sir, I didn't mean to do anything," Dan continued, desperate to make his point. "I just—"

"You just moved on instinct, I understand," the officer agreed, loudly. "I, too, often find myself in such situations, where my selfless nature overrides my good sense! You are an excellent human being, Mr. Newman, but you must learn self-control. Leave these things to the professionals."

Dan gaped. That wasn't what happened at all! And how did this guy learn Dan's name?

"Still, we should not punish a man for his good intentions," the giant sap continued his soliloquy, "and so you shall be let off with but a warning. Should you seek further glory, young Daniel, find me at the precinct."

A business card appeared, held between two thick fingers. Dan took it, bemused. Officer Gregoir Pierre-Louis, it read, in neat black stencil. It seemed like Dan had lucked out. He glanced up at the officer's earnest face. The man seemed to be expecting something.

Fortunately, Dan was a black belt in bullshit.

He cleared his throat. "Ahem, yes, you are absolutely correct. I saw my friend in danger, and couldn't help but intercede. Being an untrained civilian, I was forced to use unconventional tactics, which put Miss Margaret in far more danger than she deserved."

"Indeed, forcing yourself to vomit was an interesting distraction method, but as you saw, it will not work on a hardened criminal," Officer Pierre-Louis agreed. "Your takedown technique also needs work. You disabled yourself far more effectively than your target."

"Right," Dan nodded, "I'll keep it in mind."

"I'll keep you in mind, Mr. Newman," Gregoir cried out. "It always bring joy to my heart when I meet another noble-minded fellow! I'll say it now, you should consider joining us civil servants! Why, if you don't come by the station at some point, I might just seek you out myself! It would be a shame to let such fire lie unkindled!"

Fuck, Dan thought succinctly. "That's quite alright, sir. I'm really rather busy. I'm a business owner, after all."

"Indeed!? At such a young age! Truly an inspiration!" Gregoir slapped Dan heartily on the back, sincerity shining out of every pore. It scalded Dan, this man's good intentions, like a sentient overly-affectionate bonfire.

"Yes, I'm very inspiring," Dan agreed quickly. "But I'm also very busy. I don't have much time to get into trouble. You won't see my name pop up again, I promise."

"That is the last thing I want to hear!" Gregoir shouted enthusiastically. "You must always strive to better yourself within the law! Leave no potential untapped! Fulfill all of your—"

"He understands you, officer," Margaret soothed the baying beast. "He's also very tired. Bravery wears a man out, as I'm sure you know."

"Quite right!" Gregoir switched targets immediately. "Dear lady, your wisdom knows no limits! I shall leave you to attend to the young man. Should you need me, you both have my card. I bid you adieu!" He swept into a deep bow, spun around, and loped off.

Dan watched him leave, feeling the ground vibrate with each step.

"You gave him my name?" he asked Margaret with tired resignation.

"I had to," she replied apologetically. "But I'm sure he won't actually come back here... right?"

Dan's face fell into his hands.

Margaret bit her lip anxiously. "Maybe you should stay away for the next few days. You know, just in case."

Dan could only agree.