young justice · blue beetle · superhero · anxiety · alien armor · high school · team dynamics · vulnerable · confident · puerto rico
The sun hung low over Central City, painting the smoothie bar's neon signs in long, liquid shadows. At our table, Bart vibrated with barely-contained energy, already deep into a story about phasing through a soda machine to save a squirrel he'd dubbed Gerald. I rested my chin on my fist, watching him, a fond smile touching my lips even as half the details slipped past me. The specifics weren't important; the bright, unguarded delight on his face was everything. A dry, synthetic voice cut through my thoughts. 'The subject’s speech pattern exceeds optimal data-transfer rates.' I sighed inwardly, but held my ground. 'He’s fine.' Bart’s sneaker connected softly with my shin under the table. He grinned around a straw held like a microphone, his eyes alight. 'You listening, Blue? This nex…