A nineteenth birthday – how fucking spectacular. A birthday three days before Halloween? Even better... for anyone else, perhaps. If he ate another piece of candy to celebrate another shitty year of being alive, he was gonna puke. Cakes were rare in the Crawford household because cakes were expensive or took too much time to bake. That's why he jumped at the chance to spend his birthday with his dad, Walter.
It had been a simple phone call with only a few words spoken by each of them. "A surprise for your birthday, meet me there." His father had said. He really didn't like surprises, but his dad seemed excited. Who was he to say no? Especially since Walter had actually been stepping up more the past few months. Tate had to encourage that behavior, reward it even, because if he didn’t then his little siblings and mother would only wind up more disappointed by Walter. That was something he had learned young, that disappointment.
The location his dad had sent him to made his mind race. An old art gallery, one that Tate used to dream about having his own art displayed in as a kid. It was a "new project" of his dad's, so what did his mind do? Begin to run wild. Walter had been really interested in his son's art for the past few years, even encouraging him every time they spoke to keep it up. Tate could have gone to college on his portfolio alone as it was so impressive, but he wanted to stay close to his sick mother and baby sister. If his dad had invested into a new project, and that new project was the old art gallery, Tate of course wondered if his dad was going to surprise him by putting Tate's art up in it. Wishful thinking, the poor boy, but he’ll learn.
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The gallery still looked empty from the outside. The tall building was boarded up and partially covered in graffiti. While the graffiti could be a cool concept, it was sad to see the building succumbing to time. Despite how it looked, Tate had a suspicion that it wasn't as empty as it seemed. He knew that would be answered soon, as he got a text from his dad saying he was pulling up. He was presented with a sleek all black Bentley right after that, pulling up to the curb just like his father had said. The windows were all tinted and a man easily four times the size of Tate got out of the passenger seat, going for the back passenger door. He didn't quite grab it in time, as Walter threw it open and nearly tackled Tate in a hug before he even fully got out of the car.
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"There's my boy!" Walter ruffled Tate's hair up, realizing Tate was the same height as him now. "Wow, you really did grow a lot in the past year." He stood back and straightened up the suit jacket he had on, clearly seeing Tate's questioning look. "Oh, all rentals. Not mine.” He waved off his son’s suspicious looks. “Do you remember when I went back home to South Korea last year to speak with an investor? It turns out he's related to us on halmi's side. He loved my mother so much growing up as a kid himself he gave me the deal without any negotiations." Walter just continued to babble on, talking with his hands as Tate glanced over at the large and clearly armed guard that had stepped out of the car first.
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"How is halmeoni?" Tate interrupted his father, looking back at him with a small smile. Walter smiled back, his age showing around the outer corners of his eyes. He had turned forty earlier that year, but it still jarred Tate to see his parents' age stand out to him at times.
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"She's better. She healed from that fall she took. One day I'll take you and your sisters to Busan, and let you see where I grew up." It was an empty promise, Tate knew that already, but he still smiled and nodded his head. "But, to your surprise! Come on, we have to enter through the fire escape." Walter started walking ahead of Tate. Leading him to the odd fire escape entrance. The armed guard stood directly behind Tate, looking down at him with his hand out as a silent way of telling him to go ahead first. That made him uncomfortable. What the hell had his dad gotten into this time?
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It was never a secret that Walter Crawford wasn't the most upstanding citizen. He had a record — usually petty theft or assault. Shortly after Tana was born he spent two years behind bars for taking a joy ride in some CEO's car, with the CEO crammed into the trunk. Tate was fairly certain his dad had been a negotiator of sorts. Mediating between crime syndicates for whomever paid the higher price. He could talk his way out of almost anything; charm his way past even the most stoic people. A quality that Tate had not gotten from his father, as he didn’t like being around people but yet still tried to treat everyone with kindness. Walter was a people pleaser — a man that could never sit still and do the same thing for too long. He tried boxing, and was pretty good at it, but got caught cheating to win bigger. He was a car salesman for a while, yet again something he was good at, but the owner of the car lot frowned heavily upon Walter's "borrowing" of top dollar sports cars. He managed a strip club and the dancers loved him, but when the police found out he was running drugs and had become a pimp on the side... he did some more time.
It never failed, Walter said he was going to keep himself clean, no more dirty side business, and he wound up arrested with a charge worse than the last. It had been four years since his last arrest, however, and he seemed pretty serious about providing a better life for his family. All of the money he sent this time went straight into Penelope, his ex wife, and Emmalie, his youngest daughter. Medical bills were expensive, but he kept promising bigger and bigger things. His promises always fell through.
A big house, with enough rooms for every kid to have their own. They would finally be out of that rundown little two bedroom apartment. Tate wouldn't have to sleep on the floor or the couch ever again, unless he wanted to. A new vehicle for every kid, and it would be anything they wanted. No one would repossess them because they would be fully paid for. College funds for all five of his kids to go wherever they wanted, all expenses paid. Undergraduate and graduate, any degrees they could dream of. They could all be doctors, if they wanted.
Some might say that Walter was a bad father, a bad man, and in some cases Tate would agree. He could never keep his word, but his oldest kids had stopped expecting that from him years ago. At times, when he was at his most unstable, it seemed like Walter had delusions of grandeur. He often talked to his family like he had become the most important person in the world. He was on his way towards more success, towards being more important than he already was, and each time it ended with him smirking like the smug shit he was in a new mugshot.
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Tate feared, for all those reasons, this time was no different. Walter had gotten involved with some Jopok, this "Korean investor" he kept bragging about, and he was yet again the middle man. Tate wasn't stupid or even ignorant to his father's and his own culture, he knew how the hierarchy of South Korea's underworld worked. He knew his grandfather had fled America because he was a crooked politician. His grandmother had been traditional before she fell in love with Representative Michael Crawford, but despite how hard she tried to raise her son away from a life of crime he fell right into it. Followed right along into daddy's footsteps. The only difference was Walter had fled from South Korea to America.
The loud protesting of the rusted metal fire escape stairs under their weight seemed foreboding. They groaned and squeaked. Too much activity on them and there was a chance they'd collapse. Walter was still rattling on about this new job of his; how this was the real ticket he'd been searching for. He had been doing this for a few years, building it up by himself, and reaching out to powerful people all over the world. It did sound impressive, for what it was worth, but why the hell were they at the old art gallery? Tate still had no idea what any of this had to do with his birthday surprise.
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"Before we go in-" Walter started, abruptly stopping at the top of the fire escape and trapping Tate on the final few steps. "I want you to have an open mind about what I'm going to show you. I know it'll be shocking, especially what I'm going to ask of you, but I think it's past time for you to know about this." The older man looked down at his son from the stairs. His tone was so serious, yet so sincere.
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"Dad, whatever it is, I'm sure I'll love it." Tate let out a small sigh, but his words caused his father to beam down at him. He let Tate finish the climb and get off that needing-to-be-condemned fire escape stairway. The armed guard was directly on Tate's heels, which still made him feel uncomfortable.
And his statement was true, he loved every gift that Walter gave him. Despite the fact that his father may not be a very good man, and may not be a very good dad, he still did more than some. He stayed away from his family because he didn't want them going down with him, which was commendable on its own. Tate loved his dad, being the only son and the oldest caused Walter to dote over him. He never felt invisible or like a loser when he was with his dad. He so often was the outcast everywhere else. He’d been bullied so horribly in school that it was a wonder he had survived, but it was different with his dad. He could just be himself.
That's why as Walter opened a side door and told Tate to watch his step, he was impressed to see a large office. It had been the administration for the gallery, but it had new furniture in it. A large, sleek desk and a fancy leather rolling chair. They weren't the only additions, however. There was a safe that went from floor to ceiling off to the side and it had a very complicated looking computer panel on it. That wasn't the only high-tech thing in the room, as there was a security system as well. The monitors were turned off, but Tate imagined there were cameras in every corner and crevice of the building with that huge safe in the office.
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"For a few years now, I've not been telling you the entire truth. I have several buildings throughout the city, much like this one, that are very important to what I do. Each of these buildings have… managers, looking over them for me. People I trust." Walter let Tate ogle all the tech in the room before drawing his attention towards a large window. It was covered by some blinds, which Walter yanked up as Tate finally came to stand beside him.
The scene below them was a dimly lit room, the large open area that used to hold all the exhibits, filled with what had to be several hundred cases. They were large, long, and very rectangular. Most were all black, but a few had what appeared to be words stamped or sprayed across them. Tate was too far away to make out what it said. He looked over at his dad and gave him a puzzled look, he had no idea what the hell he was looking at.
"Every single one of those cases is filled with weapons." Walter grinned at his son. Clearly proud of what he’d just said.
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Tate swore, right then, time slowed. He felt like he’d just been gut punched. His air was ripped out of his lungs and he wanted to double over. His heart rate increased as panic tried to set in before he could calm himself down. The half smirk on his father's face said it all — he was telling the truth. Walter looked impressed with himself. Forehead creasing as he raised his eyebrows, with an excited glint in his eyes as Tate simply stared with his mouth agape.
Why had he brought Tate here? Why would he tell him this? To come clean? To say, hey, sorry two of your little sisters were nearly killed by the illegal weapons out on the streets... turns out I had a building full of them only a few blocks from where all of you live! That couldn't be it. Those guns were his. Everyone knew that Leviathan had started smuggling guns, but he hadn't shown his exo-suit wearing mug in weeks.
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"I want you to manage this warehouse for me, for my investor. This is your birthday surprise, I want to employ you. All the cash you make you can keep–"
As Walter continued to talk, Tate drowned him out. His eyes scanned over all the cases, all the guns that would eventually be out on the streets. In the hands of people that shouldn't have them. He could feel himself start to sweat. There were more armed guards down in the main room. Just walking around with their guns already out. Tate had one looming question, something that would eat at him unless he asked. It was already starting to gnaw, and caused him to interrupt his father.
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"Is your investor Leviathan?!"
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He could have sworn his voice echoed. He hadn't meant to shout. It clearly startled both Walter and the guard in the room with them. This question of his was serious. Walter had said the investor was related to them. For the last four years Tate had been secretly fighting Leviathan, a man who's identity remained unknown. He'd started out as a petty criminal and gradually gotten worse and worse. It was theft at first, then smuggling, and finally it had escalated into murder. Tate made his own secret identity to go up against this crazed, electric whip wielding psychopath: Spitfire. However, he hadn't been doing it on his own. For the last two years, his little sister Tana had joined forces with him. With only one suit, similar stature, and the same abilities bad guys were none the wiser. They assumed that Spitfire was one person, when in fact they were two. Clearly, this made everything even more personal.
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"Actually, I–" Walter began his confession, but it was quickly cut off. Another armed guard came through a door that led farther into the building.
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"We caught 'em!" The guard's voice was gruff and short of breath. He'd been running. "We're bringing 'em in, the boys over at the dock warehouse said your trap worked!"
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"Perfect, bring them up here! Hugh, please go help." Walter waved a dismissive hand at the large guard that had accompanied him in. He gave a short nod before leaving. "Tate, I wanted to bring you into this because you're someone I trust. You're my only son and I see a lot of myself in you, which is why I'm doing this. I want to leave something to you, I want to give you the legacy I'm creating." Walter quickly went over to the safe, using a hand and eye scan to unlock it. Tate would have been impressed, if he wasn't having an existential crisis.
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"Wh–.. what do you mean, "legacy"? Who did they catch, dad? What's going on?" Tate's mind was racing again, but all with bad scenarios. They only got worse as the safe started to open to reveal weapons and gear that all looked too familiar.
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"You asked if Leviathan was my investor, and that's not exactly it. You see, Leviathan is the boss here." Walter paused for a moment as he put a helmet-like mask over his head, turning around to reveal his face to his son. "I am Leviathan."
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The gut punch he felt before was nothing compared to the searing pain as his chest clenched. His feet felt glued to the floor. Tears started to swell in his eyes as he watched the exo-suit latch onto his father's back and spread across his body. Reinforcing all of his limbs and protecting his chest. The suit was a power source for his weapons, as well. What could only be described as a small reactor lit up in the center of Walter's chest, powering up fully as it began to glow a sickly green. The color matched the individual lenses in the mask over his eyes, only lamenting the words that Walter had said: he was Leviathan.
Tate felt helpless. He felt betrayed, he felt broken, and he felt... numb. It was the shock, the appalling truth finally given to him. In front of him stood the reason for him putting on his own mask. An elusive man with powers of his own. Someone who was poisoning the streets that Tate and his little siblings roamed. His ears grew hot as he got dizzy. The room started to spin even though he stood still. Walter was Leviathan, the man who promised he was going to take care of his family, was the very man making their daily lives more dangerous.
Still in a daze as he somehow remained standing upright. Tate was unaware of the several armed guards bringing in a masked girl he knew very well. The suit he often wore himself, the material had been invented by his former best friend's mentor and Tate had stolen it to make that very suit. It was more durable and survived the grief inflicted upon it by Tate's powers. She was fake struggling against the three large, armed guards until she noticed her brother was standing in the same room as Leviathan. The gasp from her was what brought Tate back to reality, his face twisting with distress as he watched his little sister be shoved into the fancy rolling chair. Spitfire had been captured only twice before, and both times they managed to get away. It seemed Tana's fighting spirit was replaced with confusion and shock, perhaps even worry that her brother had also been captured.
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"You've been a thorn that I've struggled to remove for so many years, you petulant child." Leviathan's distorted voice truly sounded nothing like Walter's. It was deeper and robotic. "Leave us and evacuate the building. I wish for the boy to witness this." He addressed the guards without looking at them, keeping his focus on his captured prize. Her wrists were handcuffed behind her back, which meant she was probably already trying to pick the lock discreetly. She could have easily broken free with her raw strength, but she’d allowed herself to be brought there to face off against Leviathan. She’d known it was a trap the entire time, but clearly hadn’t expected to see her brother there. "I've made some new adjustments to some of my gear, just for you." Leviathan let his tendril-like whip extend itself, cracking it as electricity danced from it. There was a loud buzz coming from it. Static popping through the air was a good indication that he had definitely made it stronger. "Let's see how you handle this now!"
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Tate didn't even think — instead he dashed. Putting himself between the potentially deadly weapon and his little sister. This action surprised Leviathan, but he had already committed. There was no taking back the whip as it slashed out towards his son, so he looked away. Too much of a coward to see what he was about to do.
Except the whip became taut, and only strained grunts were heard instead of screams. Leviathan pivoted his head back around to be face to face with his son. Tate had snatched the electrified weapon, letting it wrap around his forearm and gripping it so Leviathan couldn't yank it back. Electricity was coursing through him, causing his veins to become prominent in his arm taking the brunt of the energy. With his teeth gritted, he focused. The last thing he wanted to do was let himself become overloaded and explode, it wouldn't hurt him but it could kill his father.
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"Tate!" Tana shouted, flabbergasted that her brother had just revealed himself. She, too, could have easily taken that hit and been fine.
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Her shouting of his name caused a great distraction, as Leviathan took his eyes off his son to look at the masked person that he didn't know yet was his daughter. Walter was probably feeling the same hurt and betrayal that Tate had only moments before. Realization hitting him that his son was in cahoots with the very person who had been vying after him for years.
Tate's eyes started to glow bright blue as his body absorbed more electricity. He wasn't going to be able to keep it in much longer. Leviathan let just enough slack in his grip for Tate to yank the whip from him, throwing it to the side as he stood defensively in front of his sister. He was a sight to behold, with arc discharges shooting out from various spots across his skin. He stood hunched slightly, ready at any moment to pounce, and ready at any moment to let go.
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"You... you're Spitfire?" Leviathan's usually monotonous voice held clear emotions. Hesitation being one that stood out. "Tate–"
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"I'll give you one chance to fucking turn yourself in, dad. Consider it familial love. But if you take another swing at her I'll rip that goddamn power cell from your chest and crush it myself."
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It was a clear threat. A direct one. Spitfire had once almost succeeded at clawing the reactor out of Leviathan's exo-suit. The massive shockwave that came from it was the only thing that had let Leviathan get away. It took Tate nine whole days to recover from the strain trying to absorb that much energy at once put on his body. That tiny reactor was like a nuke. They leveled an entire block during that fight, and Tana had to dig people out of the rubble that got caught in the crossfire.
He didn't want another incident like that on his hands, which was why he was giving his father the choice. One that, as Tana now knew who exactly Leviathan was, his sister did not comply with. As soon as her handcuffs were off, she leapt forward and grabbed Tate. It was a move he'd once used on her, sapping the energy his body had absorbed for herself and throwing him backwards at the same time. She decked Leviathan right in the face, hard enough to send him crashing out the giant window and falling three floors down with her grappling to him. Tana always did have one hell of a temper. They slammed into the floor together and created a small crater from the impact.
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"You fucking TRAITOR! You worthless sack of shit! How could you?! How the fuck could you?!" Tana wailed on Leviathan. Punch after punch, she was unrelenting. Straddling him and keeping him down on the ground. He kept his arms up, barely stopping her from hitting him in the face. The helmet might have protected him, but with how angry and how hard Tana was hitting it was better to not take that chance. "You’ve been robbing and smuggling and killing?! The entire time that mom and Em have been on their deathbeds, asking for you?!"
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Tate barely made it down the stairs as Tana was starting to dent Leviathan's plating on his forearms. It probably wouldn't have taken much more before she broke through his block entirely, which was why Tate gripped the back of her suit and yanked her away. He fell backwards, trying to restrain her and calm her down. Leviathan was lying on the ground stunned from the hit and the fall. All three of them had now clearly revealed who they were.
Leviathan reached up, removing his own mask as he tried to catch his breath. He slowly sat up, staring at both Tate and Spitfire. Tana yanked her own mask off, face beet red with tears streaming. Her flaming red hair matched the red glow in her pupils as she glared at their father.
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"You're... both Spitfire." It wasn't a question, it was a definite statement. As if Walter needed to confirm it with himself aloud. "All these years... all these years." He started to chuckle, shaking his head as he attempted to stand. Tana had calmed down enough that she wasn't trying to wrestle with her brother, so he let her go. Walter held his side once he stood up completely. Tana had managed to injure him fairly well after all.
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"You need to turn yourself in." Tate was adamant. Despite how hurt he was — how betrayed he felt — his father could still right his wrongs. He could give everyone the justice they deserved, and for a moment Tate thought he would. The look Walter gave him was grief-stricken but promising. Tate learned a long time ago, Walter Crawford never kept his promises. Immediately there was a shift in his father's expression. Dour and fiendish replaced what had been there before. This wasn’t their father, not anymore. This wasn’t Walter, it was Leviathan.
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"I guess we'll meet again, kids. Back out on the battlefield." He moved his hand from his side and revealed a grenade, immediately dropping it and detonating it on his children. Both barely had enough time to turn their skin to concrete, shielding themselves from the blast but sending them both into the nearest wall.
Temporarily blinded and deafened, by the time neither were seeing spots any more Walter was already gone. None of it could be taken back. They knew their father was Leviathan, and he knew they were Spitfire. This was only the beginning for the two of our heroes, and next we see them; they'd both be ending a large chapter in their young lives.
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