Consider it Fixed

The return of an ex-hero



"Fix-it Autobody." the monotone voice answered the ringing phone.

"John? Itís me, Colleen." The womanís voice on the other side of the line came through quiet and timid.

"Howíd you get this number?" Johnís voice barked, impassioned.

"Your business is in the yellow pages John. The name is not exactly a stretch you know." Colleen gained confidence with every word spoken, getting stronger as she continued. "I need your help."

"You know Iím retired Colleen. I have been for months now. You know that business with the trolls landed me, my team and the people we were attempting rescue in the hospital and nearly in body bags." As John Fix talked, Colleen could hear him lighting a cigar, a continuous habit with him.

"I know you stopped fighting a while ago, but I need help from someone I can trust." Colleen paused for a moment, sounding desperate, she added, "I need results." John took a deep drag off his cigar and blew the aromatic smoke forward. Of all his old contacts, Colleen was his closest. A man of few friends, he considered her one of them.

"What do you need?" Came the gruff reply.

"A reporter was kidnaped by the Tsoo..." She began, John cut her off.

"A reporter kidnaped? Thatís your emergency? There are literally thousands of heroes in this city and you want to pull me outta retirement for this? Donít waste my time." Fixit was just about to hang up the phone when he heard Colleen call out in desperation on the other end.

"Wait! Please just hear me out. This oneís personal, sheís my best friend."

"Iím listeniní." Came the reply.

"Sheís been missing for two days. I canít seem to get any of the heroes interested in the case. Three others have agreed to look out for signs of her, but they all admit to having more important cases right now. The hero circuit has changed in these last several months. Everyone is after arch-villains and alternate planes, they are no longer interested in helping the average joe. I need someone who cares... I need you."

"Tsoo huh?" John said more to himself than to his friend asking for help. He paused for a moment, then came the three words she had hoped to hear. "Consider it fixed." Then he hung up.

John Fix grabbed a black leather jacket off the back of his chair and looked over at his motorcycle. Shrugging, he said ,

"Aw screw it." and leapt into the air, his jump carrying him over a hundred yards and several stories high."

It wasnít long before he was in Steel Canyon, a known gathering place for the Tsoo. Even less time elapsed before he was able to shake down a few of the ninjas and get the location where they were holding a reporter.

John made his way to the abandoned warehouse and gained entrance with no difficulty. He even managed to get to the captive with nearly no resistance. Hoping to sneak in and sneak out, he quickly began to untie the captiveís bonds.

"Thank God youíre here Kreat...." The reporter stopped. "Youíre not Kreation." She said, obvious disappointment in her voice. She had met Kreation on the streets earlier that month, he rescued her purse from a gang member. She had been hoping he would hear about her current situation and come to her aid again. Instead, she found a rather unextraordinary man in blue-jeans, a white T-shirt, a black leather jacket with some kind of swirl emblazoned on the breast, a yellow bandanna on his head and worst of all, an unlit cigar hanging from his lip.

"Nameís Fixit. Colleen sent me. Can you walk?" Fixitís voice came soft and gruff.

"What kind of super hero are you anyway?" She asked, suspiciously. "You donít look super."

"Would you believe Iím retired?" Fixit looked at her with an intense stare, it made her uncomfortable. "Whatís your name? Or do I just call you reporter?" She just stared at him for a moment, then shook her head, coming back to the moment.

"Lindsay. My nameís Lindsay."

"Well Lindsay, if you can walk, Iíd think it best to get you out of here."

Wordlessly the two then stood up and, having been tied up on the floor for two days, Lindsay had to lean heavily on her rescuer. It did not take long for things to go awry for the two.

As they reached a corner, Fixit leaned over to spy ahead without endangering his burden. A ninja shuriken imbedded its self a scant inch from his face.

"Weíve been spotted, stay here." Quickly, but gently he set down Lindsay and turned to face his three opponents. The Tsoo quickly began to grow in numbers. Three became five, five became seven. Nearly all his opponents were armed, and at least one, could wield the ninja magic. Lindsay honestly believed that she would die in the halls of an abandoned warehouse.

"I hate ninjas."

Fixit did not back down, as she expected. Roaring a wild cry, he leapt into the midst of them. Punching, kicking and elbowing he was a flurry of movement among his foes. Swords cut him, arrows pierced him, still he fought. Suddenly his attention was drawn on something else. In the middle of the fight, he reached down and grabbed what look to be a cellular phone!

"Not a good time right now Medik!" He shouted while throwing a roundhouse kick at a ninja with claws. Hitting him in the side of the head, knocking him unconscious "yeah I KNOW my signal is active again!" He roared, "I turned it on in case you and Sniper were still running around!" He dodged as an arrow went whizzing by. "How about you lock on my signal and get over here and help rather than call me when Iím fighting for my life!" With that he hurled his phone at the ninja who had launched the offending arrow, hitting him square between the eyes.

Lindsay was getting her legs back, trying to find a way to help, when she heard his mutter,

"Not good."

Two more ninjas had arrived on the scene and Fixit was obviously growing tired. He was torn and bleeding from a hundred different wounds and still had three ninjas left to face. He quickly turned on the closest ninja, hitting him with a stunning blow. As he spun around, he threw his left leg into the air and cleanly knocked one foe to the floor, unconscious. His final foe thrusted with a katana, impaling Fixit through the abdomen. Fixit, keeping his feet, threw a flurry of kicks at his foe, finishing him off. Shortly after, he fell to his knees.

"Could sure use Medik right about now..." He said as he fell to his side.

Lindsay, knowing that one ninja was merely stunned, grabbed what was left of her dying hero and dragged him back down the hall. She found a small nook filled with crates and boxes and hid herself and the bleeding Fixit there.

"Great, all the heroes in town, and mine is bleeding to death. AGH!" She gasped as Fixit began to move and pulled the sword from his abdomen. "You shouldnít pull that out! Youíll only bleed more!" Lindsay was nearly hysteric.

"Itís uncomfortable." Fixit gasped. In his delirium, he continued. "When I was a kid, I was good at sports. Very good. I could run faster, throw farther and jump higher than anyone in my class. Turns out I had an unfair advantage, my muscles are ultra dense. They coil and spring with alarming strength and speed. I later turned to marshal arts as a way to harness this strength. As I developed my abilities, I learned that my body had other talents." As he spoke, Fixitís voice became stronger, less of a whisper. "Itís resilient to damage. It can carry me great distances in a single leap. And," he continued as he regained his feet, "it heals alarmingly fast." He looked around himself and saw Lindsay looking up at him in awe. Offering her his hand he said, "Come on, lets find a way to get you outtaí here."

Fixit quickly finished off the remaining ninja who had lost them in his dazed state. Pausing only long enough to place police transponders on the fallen Tsoo, they continued on. Knowing that the fight must have alerted the rest of the ninjas residing in the warehouse of their presence, Fixit picked up his charge and leapt to the top of several crates stacked nearly to the ceiling.

Using this vantage point to scout the area ahead of them, Fixit took them from one stack to another, allowing them to move around unnoticed. Lindsay began to believe that they might live after all.

In order to take the last corner toward the exit, the pair had to leave the safety of the crates. As they turned that final corner, they saw a muscle bound Tsoo with yellow tattoos all up and down his arms. For Lindsay, the world began to turn upside down immediately. She could think, but her body would not respond, much like watching in a dream. A quick glance at her rescuer told her that he was suffering similar effects.

Suddenly there was a loud roar, like thunder. Lindsay could see Fixit beating his chest primally as if he were a beast. The Tattooed ninja seemed to draw back and the effects of his power evaporated quickly as Fixitís brutal kick launched him through the doors into the street. The man began picking himself up when a large rubber slug hit him square in the chest, knocking the wind from him.

Fixit was upon him in the blink of an eye. His arms moved faster than the eye as he relentlessly pummeled his foe into unconsciousness.

"Thanks fer the help, Red Sniper." Fixit said to the man in fatigues and a targeting helmet that emerged from around the building. Lindsay emerged, hesitantly, from the dark warehouse and shielded her eyes from the piercing midday sun.

"Thank you Fixit, Iím glad it was you who came to help me out after all." After an awkward hug, the two split up. Lindsay headed home, which she insisted was not far and she would make it just fine.

As She left, she was passed by a blur of speed so fast, the wind nearly knocked her over. She turned to see a man in red and white stop in front of Fixit and the one he had called Red Sniper.

"Want to help me with some robots over in kings row?" The newcomer asked. Fixit looked at him, lit his cigar and smiled.

"Consider it fixed, Medik."
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