San

San leaned against the wall, staring dully at the clouds floating by. A chill wind blew, easily penetrating his thin jacket. A slow smile curled his lips as he rubbed his arms. It felt good to be cold.

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small packet of Quell. It'd been formulated for his younger self and was starting to lose its potency as he grew older. This packet only had a couple of pills, formed from the last bit of powder he'd smuggled out during the Liberation.

He only wished that he'd thought of taking all the files on how to make it with him. Still, he'd only been ten at the time, and the adults hadn't quite known what to make of him, so they'd been keeping a close watch. It hadn't been so close that he hadn't been able to secrete a few hundred doses while they searched the labs. Of course, he'd also had decoys in the forms of Don and Dawnie with him as well.

San straightened up. The sun had finally broken through the clouds. He took a few steps back into the shadows of the building, his smile fading. Direct sunlight eroded the Quell's effects faster.

He turned and vanished back amongst the shadows. At that moment, his watch chimed softly, stilling his steps.

*****

"What do you mean they never released Ella?" San asked, fishing out another chip and popping it into his mouth. He ignored Edith's jealous look.

"How can you just pop them like that," Edith finally asked.

"San just can," Nelson answered. He paused in his movements, glanced at San and then shoved another pan of chips into the oven.

"It's not normal," Edith insisted.

"I'm not normal," San agreed, snagging another chip.

He worked for the chemist and in return, the chemist got both muscle and a test subject for some of his more riskier experiments. Currently, they were absorbed in the attempt to recreate San's Quell. The only problem was that it used a lot of ingredients that had only recently become available at a much higher price than they expected. For the more esoteric ones, they were experimenting to find local equivalents.

Of course, a clever chemist was never broke as Nelson was frequently fond of saying.

That was how the chips came about. Edith was addicted to them, but only San could eat them like potato chips. A thin, crunchy substance that could be discreetly stacked into a potato chip can, they were fast becoming the new 'Molly' on the streets.

"Wait, wait, slow down," San said, brushing crumbs off of his fingers. He raised an eyebrow at Edith who was wetting the ball of her finger and dotting up the crumbs. "Should she be doing that?" He asked Nelson, a hand over his phone.

"Doing what? Edith! Stop that! I don't have time to take you to the hospital again," Nelson scolded, hurriedly shoving the last pan into the giant oven.

San watched Nelson drag Edith to a nearby station and fish out his medical kit. She had a happy dazed look to her already. San shook his head; the chips merely made him a little bit cheerful, like looking at clouds or arguing with Aarti and Lucy.

"Look, I'll come to you." San stood up. He ignored the spat going on between Nelson and Edith over the syringe in Nelson's hand. "I'll be there in a few hours, after sunset."

"You sure?" Nelson said, finally winning the argument and plunging the syringe into Edith's leg to her protesting wails. "It's a full moon and reflected sunlight is still sunlight."

"It'll be fine," San said, putting away his phone. He snagged his jacket from the sofa as he walked past it.

He was one hundred percent sure that there shouldn't be a sofa in an industrial kitchen, but Nelson had pretty much bought out the owners after the chips started to become popular. San had a faint idea of money; he'd never had an issue acquiring it after the Liberation, and especially not after he ventured out on his own a few years ago.

As far as he was aware, there were probably six people in the world who kept track of his whereabouts and more than likely more that could find him if given the proper impetus. Five of those people he didn't care if they knew where he was or what he was doing; odds were that they were also doing things that could be considered beyond the pale by their current friends and family. The last one was the only one he was wary of, and that was because San knew that he couldn't defy him openly.

He sighed as he pushed open the door to the building and exited. Beyond the streetlights, people faded into the shadows as he appeared. San allowed himself a brief smile before sauntering down the sidewalk. They all knew San and knew that anything happening to Nelson would bring down his murderous wrath.

Everyone remembered that cocky guy who got twisted into an actual pretzel. The legend of that pretzel permeated the entire neighborhood and beyond. It was that that had led to his last conversation with Uncle Bruce. San hadn't liked the outcome of that conversation despite being able to secure a rare ingredient from it.

San pulled out his wallet and checked his false ID. It was new enough that getting a ticket to Central City wouldn't be a problem.