Well, there are three crossovers of Hiccup and the gang doing the BF5's job, now it's time for the reverse. Be warned, I'm gonna introduce some OCs since there's like a million breeds of dragons. I own nothing but OCs. Dragons come later.

000

A young man rode across a secret road as the vast salt flats of Handler's Corners stretched out ahead of his black handlebars and he pulled the throttle, unleashing the full speed of the custom-built ATV into the afternoon sun. He had some fond memories of this place. Many of his childhood years had been spent driving through the flat, featureless desert, not breaking the law since driving out there didn't seem to have any. That was the only thing he regretted moving way for; the calm, the beauty, and the freedom to enjoy as much of it as possible.

He made a two finger salute to the black and white police car that had always sat somewhere in the middle of the flats, wondering to himself if it was still sheriff Johnson sitting behind the wheel. Probably. Things didn't tend to change a lot around here. The car was a marker that his fun was almost up, a marker confirmed by the huge plastic pizza that stuck out above Zeke's Diner. He was nearly out of track. Yanking the bars hard to the right, the engine gave out a cough, reminding him why he was taking this detour in the first place, and he made a mental note to stop off for some pizza, pie and a milkshake on his way home. That should be just in time for dinner anyway; he wasn't planning on staying long.

Finally it came into sight; the Spectra Motors Hangar; his destination. More commonly known as the Wheeler Garage, although the faded sign over the front of the impressively build building still read the former. The exterior was where he recalled the impressiveness ending, and unless a certain someone, who will not be named, had recently had a change of heart, it would still be that way. The ATV rolled him right up to the doors before finally fulfilling its promise and giving out, which he had been worried of it's doing since about ten miles before the salt flats.

It was slightly spooky how often it did that; getting him exactly where he wanted to go before ceasing to function; but he wasn't going to question it in a hurry. He'd had the thing for somewhere near ten years, although had only been able to ride it for the last five and none of the parts were the same anymore. That was the one reason why he was where he was: standing in front of the garage armed with a wrench and some nacho cheese potato chips.

He wasn't sure if he had been expecting a response to the loud announcement of his arrival. There was no reason why he wouldn't be home, but at the same time, he didn't think he actually wanted to see him. They hadn't spoken in over three years, since that day, the young man had moved to the city. He didn't know what to say to him. He didn't know if he would even recognize him. Heck, he didn't know if he even wanted to see him.

"Better get this over with," the ATV rider muttered.

When the banging on the door and his shouting of "Hey, Vert, open up!" produced no response, he strode over to the keypad lock with a smile on his face. He had the place to himself, for a while at least. It was amazing, really, how Vert hadn't even changed the code to the front door. It wouldn't surprise him if every one of the fifty people living in the area knew what it was, and so having it there in the first place was utterly pointless. But that was Vert, he supposed. He liked to keep things around for sentimental value.

The inside was precisely as he remembered it. Oil stains on the floor, an assortment of tools hanging on the walls with even more empty gaps where the ones lying around on workbenches should have been, dust coating everything. Something did strike him as slightly odd though. He tried to shrug off the feeling, but it kept on coming back to him as he pushed the now defunct ATV into his preferred corner of the workshop. As he took one last look around, it hit him. There were no pizza boxes, no soda cartons, none of those quirky little boxes Zeke served his specialty pie in. The dust on the floor; and everything else for that matter; was thick and no vehicle had driven through it in at least... a year… maybe two?

He frowned and, for the first time in so long, actually started to worry. Why would Vert abandon the garage? Not only had no vehicle not been through it in years, not a single footprint besides his own had been made in the slightly yellow covering, and the air, he noticed, was stale, like the door hadn't even been opened in that whole time. Briefly he thought that he had moved away, but if that had been the case, why would he leave all his tools? It just didn't make sense. But there was nothing he could do about it before the ATV was fixed. He would drive over to Zeke's later and ask a few questions there.

Four hours, seven packets of chips and many alterations later, he stood up to survey his handiwork. He'd done a good job, even though he knew only the basics of the vehicle's mechanics. His stomach informed him in a loud protest that the visit to Zeke's he'd been promising was long overdue, and he took his helmet off a work surface, sweeping the dust off from where it had been in contact. It, like everything else he was wearing and owned, was a rather dull black with indigo markings and short dark grey spikes. He had always liked dark colors, and had even tried at one stage to acquire parts to match. He soon realized it would be cheaper to just get the parts he needed and paint them whatever color he wanted. Placing the helmet onto his head, he swung up onto his iron horse and sped out of the garage.

The drive took only ten minutes on borderline speed limit, and he was surprisingly the only occupant of the parking lot. He remembered it always being the busiest around seven PM. The whole place was starting to feel like a ghost town. Fortunately, the inside of Zeke's was exactly the same as it had always been; bright, well-lit and cheerful with its green seats and low-hanging spotlights. The man himself, unchanged since the last time the lad was there, sat at the counter, eyes fixed on the TV behind him playing some old alien-hunter series that was probably only six months away from being in black and white. He remained unnoticed until reaching the counter, whereupon Grace, another completely unchanged face in this town, swung the backroom door open and floated in, mop in hand. Her face lit up as she saw him.

"Well look at what the cat dragged in!" Leaning the mop against the counter, Grace ran towards him and enveloped him in a hug, which he returned with one arm, attracting Zeke's attention at the same time.

"Well if it ain't little Axel," the proprietor beamed, "I haven't seen you around here in... well almost three years."

"Three years, six months, two weeks and four days. And yes, I've been counting."

"Come on, take a seat. What can I get you? The usual?"

"You still remember?" he gawked, sliding onto one of the bar stools in front of the only large booth table in the diner, his favorite seat.

"You ordered it once or twice a day, every day since you were old enough to get on that ATV of yours and drive down here," Zeke reminded him, turning away and setting about preparing his food.

Grace looked out the window and added, "And it looks like you gave that ATV a complete overhaul."

"Yeah, that's the reason I'm here, actually; the exhaust system clogged about ten miles out. I was supposed to just be in the city by now but I figured a day can't make much of a difference."

"Why don't you stick around?" Grace suggested, returning to her mopping, "It's still as uneventful around here as ever but there've been a couple of new faces over the years."

"That… might not be for the best. Speaking of faces, is Vert still around?"

"Yeah, 'course. Actually, it's about the time they all pile in and grab some 'za; give it a few more minutes and they'll all be here."

"They? Who's 'they?'"

"Vert and all new his friends. A year back five of them appear suddenly as Spectra's new test drivers, and then a little more recently two more showed up. They all hang at the Spectra hangar; they have a whole track out there and everything."

"That's funny. When I was over there the whole place looked deserted."

"Well I can't explain that one. The eight of them show their faces for an hour or so every day and then disappear back to the hangar. But they're cool. And I don't know how they built those cars they've got..." Grace trailed off, and Axel greeted his pizza with a roll of his eyes and shake of his head.

Typical of Vert to hang out with people into cars. If he stayed long enough, Axel would get into another fight with the older boy. He sighed to himself and took a bite, removing about half the pizza slice and swallowing with only three quick chews.

"So what else is new?" he asked.

"Well," Zeke interrupted Grace, "I have a feeling that Vert and all his friends are in league with aliens."

He said it with such conviction, such honesty, that Axel couldn't help himself. The splutter just slipped out; the eagerness in his eyes had been priceless.

"Laugh all you want young man, but I'm telling you, there's been some funny business going on around here since you left. Mark my words, stay here long enough and you'll see for yourself."

"Good thing I'm not staying then," Axel smirked.

000

It had been a slow day, Vert reflected as he slid the Saber into his space in Zeke's parking lot. Come to think of it, it had been a slow week. There had been no news on the Reds or Vandals, they'd gone through every training practice in the book, and everyone was getting bored and restless. Well, almost everyone; Tezz, who didn't seem capable of not exercising his enormous brainpower, was attempting to design a device that would connect to Sage's telepathic abilities and amplify them, making them better able to find her brother.

Or at least, that's what Vert thought he had said. He tended not to ask anymore, for fear of looking stupid. To be honest, though, he didn't actually know what the guy was saying half the time, so that technically wasn't far from the truth. The rest of the team, though, were a different story.

"I'm telling you, Stanford, one more obnoxious remark about your 'good' looks, and I will personally see to it that no one will ever think you attractive ever again," Agura threatened.

He had been boasting about it for the last three hours; an event that usually occurred after talking to or about his brother, Simon.

"She'll do it," Sherman warned.

"I'm only pointing out that my dear brother is sorely mistaken when he claims to be the better of the two of us," Sanford justified, "Besides, even if he was better than me in every way, then why am I the one going into battle zones and not him?"

"I'm sure Sage asks herself that all the time," Spinner stated.

AJ laughed in his wild, cackling way, and Stanford glared, "Just because you don't appreciate..."

Vert sighed and told them all to stop arguing. He climbed lazily out of the Saber's cockpit, looking absent-mindedly out over the salt flats in an attempt to clear his head. As much as he depended on and trusted his team, they really got on his nerves sometimes. He watched the Tangler and Buster pull up next to him, followed by the Reverb, Splitwire and Gearslammer. Finally, the Chopper skidded to a stop in the end bay, next to a super-stylized ATV with the word "SHADOWBLADE" written on the rear bumper in a hazy dark grey paint. He frowned at it. It was vaguely familiar...

"What?" Zoom appeared at his shoulder, following his gaze, "You look like you're trying to decipher one of Tezz's program codes."

"A feat that wouldn't be possible without a supercomputer and an enormous amount of data files," the brainiac said matter-of-factly, making Zoom roll his eyes.

"I know I've seen that ride from somewhere," Vert muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

"Wait, you serious? I've seen that ride too. That's the Shadowblade model the national park rangers used to track wildlife and criminals in the 80s," Agura leapt up and raced towards the ATV, "I saw it in some old nature films. Looks like someone wants them to make a comeback."

"Fascinating story, but can we go eat now?" Stanford almost yawned.

The sole female shot him a murderous glare, "Don't knock it. This ride's still top of the line, even if it's over thirty years old."

That's when it clicked. Vert realized that he did know who the ATV's owner was, and not from watching the park ranger films. That was Axel's, the one his dad had given him at the age of thirteen. He'd meant it as a sort of joke; there was no way the thing could've been drivable at the time; but Axel hadn't seen it that way. He'd tinkered, repaired and bartered for parts for five whole years until the engine functioned again and the framework actually stayed together when it was running, and he'd kept it that way ever since. Vert hadn't recognized it immediately because it had been three years since he'd last seen it, and it looked like it had done some serious work on it since. That meant...

Axel was back in town.

"Hey Vert, you coming?" Zoom called from the Diner's front door.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. 'Course," he shrugged himself off the Saber and jogged over to join the rest of the team, most of whom had already set themselves up at their usual table.

It's okay, he's not here, Vert lied to himself mentally, Axel had just parked in the Diner and gone off somewhere else.

That was unlikely; there wasn't anything else within a comfortable walking distance. But he could hope. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Ax, far from it, he just didn't want to have to explain everything, or rather the cover stories they'd thought up. He didn't like lying... especially ever since their mother of all fights.

No. There was no chance. He spotted the dark leather jacket as soon as he set foot through the door.

"Oh, and there he is," Grace announced; they'd been talking about him, great.

Slowly, Axel turned, and fixed Vert with a stare no more friendlily than his own.

"Axel," the BF5 leader said as a form of greeting.

"Vert," the younger boy responded just as coolly.

"What're you doing here?"

"Just passing through. I needed some supplies so I used the garage. Hope you don't mind."

This was getting better and better. He'd been in the garage, seen how empty it was. He might want explanations.

"Of course not," he sighed, dropping the hard face, "Look, Axel, we need to talk..."

"No, we don't," he slid off his stool and scooped up his pizza box, "Thanks, Zeke, I'll see you around, maybe."

With these farewells he made his way out of the diner and to his ride before speeding out down the flats. Reluctantly, Vert followed him out. If he could get to Axel, if they could just talk, they might make peace. As he swung the door shut behind him, he could heard a 'Well that was awkward,' from Spinner.

000

Axel jumped onto his ATV, turned it on, and left the Diner's parking lot, heading for the salt flats. About a mile or two later, the Shadowblade's com system started crackling. Axel tensed up a bit, someone was trying to hack it.

"Axel, stop driving right now," the hacker's voice spoke, "We need to talk. Like, yesterday."

Axel groaned and muttered, "Great, yet another delay."

Annoyed as he was, the young man hit the brakes and put the ATV in park; a long, stylized race car pulled up next to him. The cockpit glass retracted, revealing Vert as the driver.

000

Meanwhile, the rest of the Battle Force were on their way back to the Hub, though the core members couldn't shake what they just saw.

"Maybe it was an old teammate," Spinner suggested.

"I don't think so big bro," Sherman replied, "Did you see the way they were glaring at each other?"

"Yeah," Zoom commented, "They looked like two wolves staring each other down for a mouthful of meat."

"Well possibly he's an old competitor, a rival maybe. They do have a habit of holding grudges," Stanford figured.

"And you'd know all about that, would you?" Agura contended.

"Ha hah," was Stanford's usual sarcastic response.

"Vert doesn't have enemies, at least not on Earth, anyway. We'd all know about it if he did," Zoom deduced, "He would've told us."

"You sure? I mean, we don't know who this mystery guy is, so in theory he could be anyone," Agura responded, skeptical as always.

Tezz groaned inwardly, knowing that such a gesture would be received by the com system had it been uttered out loud. He hated occasions such as this, when the entire team was attempting to figure out something that was, really, very simple.

"He's Vert's brother," he finally announced, when he could not take their nitpicking any longer, "If you notice the similarities in the facial structure and the fact that Axel's eyes were the same shade of green as Vert and his father's eyes, a genetic anomaly that only occurs between direct blood relations, it's obvious. They're siblings."

"And you know what Vert's dad looks like, how?" Spinner asked, a "bit" confused.

"I was at his home once," was the man's reply, "It was the only picture of a family member there."

"He's right about the brother thing," AJ admitted, glad no one could see him scratch the back of his neck nervously, "And, eh-he, I met Axel a couple of times too. He moved away about three years back. Well… more like ran away. I haven't heard from or of him since."

"And you didn't tell us that from the beginning because...?!" Stanford demanded.

"Because, well, the whole Axel/Vert thing isn't like the Simon/you thing, Stanford. It's more like the Sage/Kyrtus thing," the Canadian explained, "They used to get into really nasty fights all the time. Last time I saw the two of them together, Vert had Ax in a headlock while Ax tried to bite him…"

Tezz silenced his com system completely, too lost in thought to even hear if his name was mentioned. Something was bothering him about this "Axel Wheeler" person. First of all, his Shadowblade, which Agura had said was supposed to be thirty plus years old, looked entirely brand new. Second, Axel had seen that the actual hanger hasn't been used much since Vert brought Sage to earth, and yet, he didn't seem to care. His knowledge about psychology was very limited, but Tezz knew enough of it to know that something, other than a sibling quarrel, was going on but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. He had to investigate, and when he had all the facts he could find, talk to his leader about it. For now, though, he would just have to tune out his friends to figure it out. This task, however, was easier said than done.

"...want to know is, why did he never mention it?" Stanford was saying as he and everyone else exited their vehicles and went to the Hub's inner rooms, "He has a sibling? I didn't even know he had any family at all."

"Stanford, people don't have to tell you everything, you know," Zoom stated.

"Careful Zoom, you might burst the little bubble he's been living in all his life," Agura jokingly warned.

Everyone laughed at the artillery expert. Well everyone except the artillery expert and the self-proclaimed "student of Sentient culture", who was still lost in thought.

000

Vert sighed, "Look, Ax, I don't wanna fight and I get that you're still mad at me, but you need to understand something."

"And what is that?" Axel sarcastically inquired, "What is your fabulous excuse for wanting to talk all of the sudden? I'd love to hear it."

"Well, uh, recently," Vert stammered, trying to think of how to explain things without spilling the multidimensional beans, "I met this woman, and no not as a date. Her name's Sage; she's… not from around here. She… came to me for help. At first, she needed to get these… things that a bunch of… crooks stole from her and her… family. That's where and how I met the rest of my crew. Now, her evil twin brother, and I mean that in every way, shape, and form, showed up and is trying to… well, I'll leave that to your imagination."

Axel squinted as he massaged his temples, "Okay, three questions. First, why didn't this lady go to the police instead?"

"She doesn't trust that they can help her," Vert replied, which was not far from the truth.

"Ok, second, you're telling me all this, why?"

"Because I don't want you and me to end up like Sage and her brother; I am not your enemy. We used to be friends, Ax, we used to do everything together. I know we don't always agree on a lot of stuff, but that doesn't mean we have to hate each other."

"Uh-huh. Last question: what's your excuse for what took you so long to say all this?"

"To be honest I don't really have one. I've been busy. That's all I can say."

"You've been busy," Axel mocked before ranting, "That's it? That's all you're going to leave me with? You don't call, you don't write, you practically abandoned me just the same as Dad did and that's all you can say?! Blast it Vert, you're really something! It's like you don't remember who your family is!"

"Of course I remember who my family is! That's why we need to talk!" Vert shouted, suddenly angrier than Axel had ever seen him, the sudden snap making him jump, "Ax, besides the fact that I didn't and still don't know where you live now, you have no idea what's been going on down here since you left. Things have... changed. I can't tell you why, or how, okay, and that's why I've never called or written. Because if I did, every word I'd say or write would be a lie because I can't tell you what's going on in my life. If I hurt you at all I'm sorry, but as I recall, you're the one that left; and you sure didn't call or write either."

"Well one of us had to move on, grow up, and leave this one horse town, and it obviously wasn't going to be you! I'm eighteen now, I don't want or need you to stick your nose into my life," he turned away from him, mainly to hide the fact he wasn't very proud of leaving, but also a keep himself form landing a punch square on his brother's jaw, "And I've been busy too, with an actual job, not speeding around the salt flats like an adrenaline junkie with a death wish!"

The brothers were silent for a long minute.

Finally, Axel sighed and broke the silence, "Look, I don't know what's gonna on with you and your little club and I really don't care. I'm late for something important and if I don't leave now… I'll never have another chance. So, see ya around racer boy."

With that, Axel climbed back onto his ride, turned it on, and drove away. Vert just stood there and watched, a sadden look on his face, fighting urges to cry.