infinitepryde

Requested by:

joiedecombat
Fandom: Legion of Super-Heroes (Dyrk Magz)
Spoilers: ... the Mordru fight doesn't really count, does it?
Lyric from: Embrace, "Exploding Machines"

The first time they died, he stepped up to help hold the line in their place; it was more acknowledgment and more joy and more belonging than he'd ever known, and even when it and everything else was torn away from him, he limped back and shed his dignity and his pride to take up a place behind them.

The second time they died, he found another line to hold; there was no joy in it, but it was a way to fling his anger into a new quest, to build something from the wreckage, to salvage something like honor.

The third time they died, there were no bodies at all, and he'd learned from the first two times. He couldn't believe in their deaths; he couldn't leave their name to be set down again with such finality.

It took about five minutes for him to realize he wasn't the only one -- and about five months for him to actually understand that nobody was going to demand to know what he was doing there.

Lydda and Brek stood with him first and fastest: not rejects anymore, not now. It was strange to think of them as founders. It was also true.

Particon hunted them down and downright demanded the chance to work with him again. That sent him into a sidewise spin that lasted days. The last time he'd fought beside Particon, Mordru had killed two of her teammates. Not to mention the "he didn't have any powers" part; that was from that fight, too. But Particon acted like it was a privilege to deal with him again. So did Lonna Leing. Atmos ... wasn't much of a loss. Dragonmage was more help than anyone expected. So were the handful of cadets that had made the grade, including the robotic one. The Workforce reject Catspaw had an unexpected talent for keeping an eye on the least trusted volunteer --

He drew the line at calling Mekt Ranzz a Legionnaire. He worked with them. That was all. And that was mainly because, once they were sure he'd found a way to break Takron-Galtos' control on his powers, they didn't dare take their eyes off him.

They weren't what the real Legion had been; he was certain of that. But nobody could be. In the mean time, they did their best, and he tried not to think of what Garth was going to say when he got back. Particularly about Dragonmage.

The Legion grew from the three of them -- a boy too uncertain of himself to speak up, a girl whose powers vanished if you shone a flashlight on her, and a Braalian with no magnetism -- to ten, and twelve, and twenty; till there were more of them than there had been in the first Legion; and they *still* hadn't reminded him he had no powers; and they *still* pulled him back into leadership every second or third election. All the same, it never really struck him as real until the day he mentioned wondering what Cosmic Boy would do in his place, and Particon jabbed two knuckles in his arm and asked "You think we'd settle for a cut-rate replacement?"

Dyrk never did come up with a good answer to that. He never stopped feeling a little uneasy about it, either; but it was good to have joy in his life again.