Page 4

He needed to regroup and think.

“Got it.” Rowan nodded as if agreeing before turning his back to Milo, a deep frown on his face. “Pack it up, boys!”

“What the fuck, boss?” Jeff asked, rushing to his side. “Respectfully.”

“Let him cool down. Let him think he’s won. I’ll handle it and we’ll be back on track. For now…let him be.”

“Are you sure?”

Rowan nodded, trying to untangle his own thoughts. “Yup.”

He got back into the car and with a final glance at Milo smiling smugly at everyone around him, he started the engine and headed back to his office.

What the fuck was his life?

Notes:

Poor sweet summer dragon. We wish you luck on your coming journey

2

Notes:

Prepare yourself for the next Avengers Squad!!!! And be patient because it takes them a minute to assemble.

Milo

“That was magnificent, my boy,” Conrad said as he rushed—well, hobbled—to Milo, his walker rattling over the rough terrain. His gray hair was a circle around his ears with the top of his head completely bald, the tufts barely shifting with the momentum he was able to accelerate at. He had his hearing aid in his ear but was still yelling because the batteries had more than likely run out again.

“I did my best.” Milo smiled at Conrad when he tapped his shoulder.

“That will show them,” Ethel said, her lilac bathrobe swishing behind her like a cape as she approached and threw a knitted blanket over Milo’s shoulders. “Bit too short still…”

Milo watched as she busted out her needles and a gigantic skein of yarn, attaching it to the top of the blanket and adding bulk to it right there where it hung off of Milo’s frame. The needles swished and clicked in front of his face. “Ethel, I’d like to keep both my eyes.”

“Shut it, boy.”

“It’s also summer and really hot.”

She pointed a needle at him menacingly. “I’ll stab you with it.”

He clamped his mouth shut, letting her work him into a chained mannequin for her knitting project. It was usually best to just let her do what she wanted.

“Behave,” a third voice sounded and Glenn walked out, shaking his head at everyone. He was a distinguished older gentleman, dressed in a three-piece suit and holding a book under his arm. “We are in an upscale establishment and need to act accordingly.”

Milo looked down at his chains and then around the sad looking lawn.

Glenn was also pretty batshit crazy (not an official medical diagnosis, just an observation) and often lost track of where he was or who any of them were.

“There is nothing upscale about this.” Shelly arrived, glowing in the sunlight like a lava lamp. She was dressed in about five hundred sequined skirts, with scarves wrapped around her neck and her curly hair pinned on top of her head in a wild bun. Her earrings hung down to her chest and she had enough necklaces on to decorate a department store for Christmas.

She chucked something into the air and then bent down to look at it. Milo recognized her bone runes hiding around the hems of her skirts.

“We will need much more effort to be fruitful,” she said. “Dark forces are at play.”

“The dragon guy is an asshole, but I don’t think he’s a dark force.” Milo frowned at the sudden urge to clarify. “Definitely grounds for hatred, don’t get me wrong. Just…of the normal variety.”

“Whatever you say, son.” Clarence showed up with a cross in his hand and a rosary around his neck, holding a spray bottle of holy water above his head. “I don’t trust that man. Long hair. Scales. Snake eyes… Seems like the devil’s work to me.”