The Law of Averages

Consciousness came slowly to Dan, resolving into a haze of blurry lights and distorted sound. His eyelids were heavy, his body sluggish; he struggled to maintain his tenuous grasp on reality. A grey and white smudge loomed large in his vision, somehow conveying a sense of smug condescension despite its lack of clear features.

Dan decided to name the smudge Marcus.

Something big and bright was shoved into Dan's face and he cringed away, feebly batting at it like a drunken cat. Someone clicked their tongue impatiently, and a wrinkled hand seized Dan's chin.

"Look towards the light, Daniel," a stern voice commanded.

"No!" Dan groaned weakly, squeezing his eyes shut. "Don't wanna go t'the light..."

The hand on Dan's chin moved over his face, and gnarled fingers forced an eye open. The light returned, brilliant and scalding.

"Satan!" Dan hissed, wriggling ineffectually.

"Drama queen," came the quick retort, as the light was withdrawn.

Dan's surroundings swirled back into view. Dan looked blearily around at Mercury's lab. Things were mostly how he remembered them. He was still prone, laying in Mercury's modified hospital bed and strapped into the Neuralyzer. Tables were still stacked against the walls, out of the way. The floor was still clean, unmarred by spilled chemicals. He could hear a generator humming happily away in some distant corner of the lab. Things were normal.

Every bit as normal as the simulation. It was so utterly surreal that, for a moment, Dan questioned whether the doctor had lied about the simulation being, well, a simulation. It was a ridiculous thought of course. The attack on Atlanta had been days ago. Even Marcus wouldn't be so insane as to build a time machine for the sole purpose of teaching Dan.

Though if he had the time machine just laying around...

No. No, down that path lies madness. Dan refused to think on it further. He focused instead on the two other occupants of the room.

Merrill pranced about on his chest. A confusing state of affairs, as Dan was certain he'd left her in his room. Nevertheless, he brushed his finger over the mouse's fluffy head, smiling slightly at the squeak he elicited.

Beyond the bed sat Marcus, old and withered as ever. The mad scientist was perched on a rotating stool, gracing Dan an annoyed glare while stowing away a small flashlight into his lab coat. Cradled beneath the old man's right arm, tucked up against his chest, was a miniature airhorn whose purpose Dan didn't dare to contemplate.

After absorbing all this, Dan asked the really important question.

"Did I win?"

"No," Marcus replied instantly.

Dan made a face. "It sure seemed like I won before I passed out."

"I don't know where to even begin criticizing that statement," Marcus admitted.

Dan sat up and gingerly removed the Neuralyzer from his head. He glanced over the delicate machine, frowning as he bounced it in his left hand.

"I remember something... exploding? And fire. Lots of fire," Dan mused. "Can't forget that bit if I tried. I've never been burnt before. I didn't realize it would hurt so much."

"You basically stuck your hand into a fledgling supernova," Mercury told him.

Dan nodded absently, then grinned. "Worked though. I so won."

"You acted like an impulsive imbecile and got yourself killed rather than do the intelligent thing and flee," Marcus corrected.

Dan shrugged. "Well I wasn't expecting the explosion, I'll admit that. I think the rest of the plan was solid, though. Why the heck did it explode?"

"Because that was what his power did," Marcus explained smugly. "It created explosions. The only reason it hadn't exploded yet was because the villain was trapped inside that cold field. You removed the fire from the field, and so it did what it wanted to do all along, which was violently blow up in your face."

"I don't see how I could have known that," Dan stated acerbically. Merrill came out in support of his outrage, perching on Dan's shoulder and squeaking at Marcus.

The doctor pasted an amused expression on his face. "You couldn't. That was the point. You can never know what upgrade another person might have, and in a dangerous situation that lack of knowledge could cost you everything. That's why we don't allow untrained individuals to run amok in dangerous areas."

"Well yeah, I get that," Dan acknowledged. "I got it, like, thirty seconds into the sim."

"And yet you still refused to fall back when faced with a situation that you were utterly unprepared for." Marcus raised a bushy eyebrow. "Regardless of whether you got it, the lesson clearly didn't stick."

"That's completely different!" Dan protested vehemently. He tried to straighten himself in the bed, but yelped when his right hand pressed onto a metal strut.

"The hell—?" he muttered, glancing at his hand which was a violent shade of red. A large rash ran from his elbow down to his fingertips. The skin along his forearm was swollen and peeling.

"A psychosomatic reaction," Mercury explained with the slightest hesitation. "Not unexpecteed, since you stuck your hand into a fledgling supernova!"

"Ow," Dan stated eloquently.

"Quite so," the old man agreed slowly. "I'm surprised it's not worse, considering your actions."

"I died, didn't I?" Dan commented absently, remembering the vivid flash of light. He rubbed a hand over Merrill's fur. "I feel like I should be more traumatized by that."

Marcus seemed to relax a fraction. "You shouldn't be. You're welcome for that, by the way. My elixir—"

"Your shroom juice?" Dan interrupted.

"My elixir allows for the simulation to feel real, but the Neuralyzer blunts most of the emotional effects upon waking up. You got that rash,"—The old man viciously prodded Dan's arm, making him wince—"while you were still unconscious, and as a result of your own actions."

"Huh." Dan examined his arm again. "Well that sucks."

"Yes." Marcus leaned forward, interlacing his fingers beneath his chin. "That you still have the gall to defend yourself after such stupidity is frustrating in the extreme."

Dan flashed a rude gesture at Marcus, nearly displacing the mouse on his shoulder.

The doctor sighed wearily. "Daniel, please. You've already admitted that training is both sensible and necessary. Why do you persist in defending yourself?"

"That was—"

"Different. Yes, you've said," Marcus said, his tone slipping back into frosty irritation.

Dan gingerly relaxed back onto the bed. Merrill scurried onto his chest and nestled herself underneath his chin. He rested his good hand behind his head while he contemplated his answer.

"I couldn't leave them," Dan finally explained. "Real or not, smart or not, simulation or not, I couldn't leave people behind. I couldn't just run away."

"That is the wrong mindset for staying alive in a dangerous area," Marcus commented harshly.

"But the right one for living," Dan countered. "At least for me."

"Don't try to get philosophical with me, Daniel, you'll only embarass yourself."

Dan grinned briefly. "Look Doc, I get what you're saying."

He held up a hand, silencing Marcus before the old man could interrupt. "Seriously, I do. But I've got this— this second chance at life, basically, and I wanna live it the right way. I'm just doin' what I gotta do to sleep at night, y'know? I don't think I could live with myself if I just ran away."

Marcus scowled, the many lines and wrinkles on his face deepening into cavernous trenches. "I can barely remember the time when I was so infuriatingly naive. Sacrifices will always be necessary. I thought I could teach you that, but it seems not. Reality will be a harsh mistress, Daniel."

Dan shrugged unrepentantly.

The doctor sighed. "If you insist on acting like an idiot every time you encounter a dangerous situation, you'll need to work on your tactical sense."

Dan chewed on his lip. "How often are you expecting me to run into something that dangerous? I mean, realistically speaking?"

"With your luck, every time you leave the station," Marcus muttered under his breath.

Dan's eye twitched.

"Your plan was flawed in several ways," Marcus continued unabated. "First, it put yourself in an unacceptable amount of danger. There is a difference between trying to save lives and intentionally martyring yourself."

Dan opened his mouth to protest, then paused.

"Fair," he admitted. He probably would not have been so quick to maim himself in the real world.

"Second," Marcus continued, "you did not attempt to determine the nature of your enemy's powers. You simply assumed he could manipulate fire and made plans based off that assumption."

"I don't think I've got the depth of knowledge needed to determine something like that," Dan remarked defensively.

"We'll be rectifying that," Marcus replied frostily. "Third. Your strategy of teleporting away the fire was... clever, given your limits, but idiotic overall."

Dan pursed his lips at the ceiling, but refrained from interrupting through sheer force of will.

"You teleported over a mile above the city. Tell me, Daniel, did my warning about using your power within the simulation occur to you at all?"

"Warning?" Dan scrambled through the halls of his memory bank, searching for whatever the doctor was in a tizzy about.

He paled rather dramatically when he found it.

"Yes," Marcus stated frostily, upon seeing the look of horror on Dan's face. "You are incredibly lucky that you didn't teleport yourself over the city out here in the real world. That would have ended quite poorly for you."

"In my defense," Dan stated shakily, "you told me not to leave the city. I think, technically, I was still in Atlanta airspace."

The doctor gazed at him with undisguised displeasure.

"Fine. It was stupid," Dan admitted, cringing beneath Mercury's gaze.

"Indeed. Another thing to work on."

Dan smiled weakly.

"Other than that," the doctor sighed, "you did well, as much as it pains me to say it. I didn't expect you to last long, physically or mentally. Not under those conditions, at least."

"I knew you were messing with the temperature!" Dan crowed triumphantly. He pumped his uninjured fist in the air.

"Yes, you proved quite persistent," Mercury complimented. "I suppose I should have seen it coming. Fools are always stubborn."

"Don't ruin the moment," Dan chided. "I think that's the first complement you've ever given me."

Marcus rested his chin on his fist. "You have a long way to go. The simulation was to show you why the training is necessary to begin with. I honestly expected it to scare you away. Seeing as I've utterly failed in that..."

Dan beamed.

Marcus huffed. "I suppose we'll move on to the next stage of your training."

The old man reached under the bed, withdrawing a book the size of small car. He thumped the massive tome down onto Dan's legs, almost shattering his kneecaps. Dan stared down at the title in a mix of awe and horror.

Marcus Mercury's Guide to Everything.

"When did you write this?" Dan managed to ask.

"A little over twenty years ago," Marcus answered. "It's somewhat out of date. I'll give you a list of corrections, eventually, but for now you can start working through it."

"You're giving me homework?" Dan clarified apprehensively. Merrill crawled onto the book, her form taking up perhaps a twentieth of the cover. Dan stoically avoided looking at it.

"Don't think of it as homework, think of it as..." Marcus waved his hand airily. "Think of it as life experience, just on paper. That's basically what it is, after all."

"Uh huh." Dan fell back onto the bed, staring forlornly at the ceiling.

"I'll give you some ointment for your arm once you complete the first chapter," Mercury offered magnanimously.

Dan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Don't scream, don't scream, don't scream.

"Anyway, I've got work to do. See me once you've finished the first chapter. Now, get out of my lab."

Dan screamed.