[i][sub]The Runaways, Issue 1 : Chase I[right]Wholesale District - LA 02:06[/right][/sub][/i][hr]
Admittedly, Chase wasn't an expert on the whole superhero gig. But even his tenuous grasp on the subject told him being tied up and getting a stern talking-to about being sent back to your parents wasn't a stellar start to the career.

"Sure we should be letting him see this?"

"Nothing he hasn't already seen.  Knows more than we do I bet." The two minder’s Chase had dubbed jackass and idiot, seemed just about as tired of him as he was with them.  

"Should'a had him help unload then" Jackass grumbled as he began to roll a fourth cigarette. His name has been earned for punching Chase in the jaw. Idiot was idiot for letting him when he knew it was his employer's son his partner was hitting. Maybe that made him less stupid in the end.  

"This is taking too long" 

Chase nodded in silent agreement, fear has passed to boredom about an hour after they’d met up with a second group over an hour earlier, and he'd had a long day.  Of course, the end of the night meant going home to dear ol’ mom and pop, whom he doubted would be holding a banner welcome. Best case scenario, they’d play it cool again and send someone else to do the dirty deed. More likely his father would just kill him. The former plan hadn't worked last time, and if there was one thing the Stien's were good for it was learning.  Or so he'd been told, maybe that gene skipped every generation or something.  There wasn’t much for Chase to do other than rub his wrists raw against his restraints, and every so often he catch himself craning for a better look at the action happening on the opposite end of the alley. Sure, he'd seen what was in the crates already, but he'd been a little more preoccupied with getting the stuff [i]out[/i] so he could get [i]in[/i] before anyone found him. As well as that plan had worked out. 

Light broke through his thoughts self-pity before any noise.  Fire and light cutting straight through the two groups 20 feet away.  But distance didn't stop Chase from jumping to his feet in a panic - onto tied feet, which left him face flat on the pavement.  That was when the noises began to register.  Mostly shouting.

"Get the van!"

"They fuck us over?"

"Cops?!"

"It's those fucking [i]kids[/i]!"

"Guess it's two for one night, lucky us!" 

That last one was incredibly out of place. Young, and-happy? Chase twisted on the ground and with great effort managed to lift his head. His eyes still only level with the ground, it was hard to see much anything other than the fires, burning much closer than was comfortable. The other gang’s truck had started, had they even finished loading? So much for honor among thieves. Or criminals at least.  His minder’s came out of their own shock and appeared to remembered his existence.

"I got the kid, let’s get out of here."
 
A pair of boots blocked Chase’s view and a hard grip dragged him up by the collar. His pride and favourite shirt ruined in the same night. The hit to the head obviously left him dazed. No sooner was on he on his feet, then the grip was gone and he was falling again, backwards this time. The back of his head hit the pavement, and the world instantly began to blur, but he could have sworn there was a kid standing over him just before it went black.